#but by that same logic i’ve been working on bits and pieces on wips even if its by bits

[ohhcinnybuns]

This is how I want my readers to react when I drop like 4 different finished wips in one go 💀

[backslashdelta]

@mostgeckcellent thank you so much for the tag! This is such a fun tag game! I'm making a new post because this is long and so the post you tagged me in was fairly long as well lol

how many works do you have on AO3?

I have 42 works on AO3 across 2 pseuds! That being said, one of my pseuds is for podfics only (all but one of which are podfics of my own works); the number of works on my main account where I keep all of the written versions of my fics is 33.

what’s your total AO3 word count?

250 307 words :) and I am very proud of all most of them lol

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

Only one, and it's Glee. I may or may not branch out in the future, only time will tell ;)

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

It Was Only a Kiss (582 kudos). I think this absolutely deserves to be my top fic, in my opinion. It's my longest work, and it's the piece I worked on the longest, and poured the most of my love into. I'm very very proud of this one. Though, fair warning, it is an anti-Blaine Kurtbastian fic, so to my Klaine followers: you probably don't want to read it. But that's okay. Because lots of other people already have lmao

I Want the World to See You'll Be With Me (116 kudos). A sweet Kurtbastian one-shot I wrote as a Christmas present to @unhappyending last year. I'm surprised to see it so high, because I'm not really a fluff writer and this is unmistakably fluff, but... I guess the Kurtbastian fans love them some fluff!

Notes of an Old Mistake (96 kudos). It's Kurtbastian, it's angst, it's porn with plot! I feel like this fic is one of the most me things I've ever posted, which is interested since it was a gift to @pouralittlewater and very much based on what she wanted written. Guess we have similar tastes!

A Rush of Blood to the Head (76 kudos). The first pwp I ever posted, a Kurtbastian vampire!Sebastian halloween one-shot. Iconic of that to be this far up the list honestly.

The Hazards of Love 1 (68 kudos). This fic is what really got me in to writing. It's ~50k words, my second-longest fic to date, and it means a lot to me. There are some things in it that I'm iffy about, but also some scenes that I really, really love, and are very dear to my heart. When I started posting it, I didn't think anyway would read it because of the premise. Apparently I was wrong.

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes. I always respond to the first comment someone leaves on any of my fics, or any chapter of one of my fics, if it's a main comment. Sometimes people will reply to my reply, or reply to another commentor, and in those cases I don't always respond, but otherwise I do; if someone binged one of my multichaps and left a comment on every chapter, I will respond to every single one.

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

This is an easy tie between He Forgets Me, He Forgets Me Not and Never Ask For Anyone But You (a birthday gift for @unhappyending), both of which end with the death of one of the main characters; in the first, the final scene is a funeral where it's revealed that the character has died, and in the second, the actual scene where the death occurs is described (though it could be left up to interpretation whether the character actually does pass away).

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I do not, but I have an idea for one that I might eventually write...

have you ever received hate on a fic?

I received a hateful review on FFN once, but it was clearly spam. Other than that, the closest I've gotten to hate has been someone asking me to go a different direction with a fic after I had already made my intentions clear; if that's the worst I have to deal with, I am very happy. Especially since there are a lot of things I write about that some people may have a problem with lol

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Girl yes. I've already linked 3 explicit fics in this post lmao who am I if not a smut writer?

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven't! I'd love to translate my own fics into French though. I think that would be cool. My French is not good enough unfortunately, but maybe someday if I ever make an effort to improve it.

have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! Last Christmas @unhappyending and I (KC you're getting tagged A LOT in this post lol sorry) co-wrote the Kurtbastian 2020 Advent Calendar. We posted one chapter per day starting on December first and leading all the way up to Christmas Day (inclusive). It was a lot of work, but also a lot of fun! I also recorded the podfic :)

what’s your all time favourite ship?

Kurtbastian. I'm a huge multi-shipper, as we all know, but Kurtbastian is where my heart truly lies.

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

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow. This was originally a one-shot for @blangstydays, and then I decided to write another chapter, and now it's sitting there as a WIP on AO3 and I never think about it and will probably never finish it. Oops, sorry.

what are your writing strengths?

I think my biggest strengths are a) dialogue, and b) describing a character's internal thoughts/logic/whatever. These are kind of tied together; essentially, I just think I'm good at getting into the character's head and really being able to put into words what they would think and say in a way that feels authentic to them.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Right now my biggest weakness is having the motivation to write. But when I do have the motivation, my biggest weakness is probably transitioning between scenes, or scenes that don't feature much dialogue. I'm just... not the best at describing things, imo. I also don't think I'm great at scenes with a lot of people; I don't know what to do with all of them, and even if I do, I can have a hard time getting into the heads of that many different people for the same scene.

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

I think I've written maybe a few words in French, but only because I know a little bit of the language. I wouldn't write anything substantial in another language unless I had someone who knew that language and was willing to proof-read it for me. In general, I don't think I have an issue with it. I'd have to translate it if I was reading it in a fic. I don't know, it's not something I've given much thought to.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Glee. The first and only <3

what’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

The answer to this is easily It Was Only a Kiss. I have some other one-shots that have a special place in my heart, by IWOAK will forever and always be my baby, and I am so glad she gets the love she deserves in the form of hits/kudos/comments <3

Time to tag some of my writer friends! @unhappyending (figured I should tag you in this post one more time lol), @esperantoauthor, @20xbetterthanu, @awkwardcaterpillar, @useless-fanfictions, @blangstydays, and anyone else who wants to do this please feel free to do so and tag me, I'd love to read your answers!

[drev-the-procrastinator]

the mando fic for the wip title thing

As promised, I made this into its own post. @purplecarseat and @lastwordbeforetheend, here thanks for the asks, and hope you like this! 

Right, so the Mando fic!

This is the first Mando fic I came up with, not too long after the season 2 finale, and I've been kinda calling this like... the opposite of a fix-it fic? Like by coming up and possibly writing this I'm doing the opposite of manifesting, I'm manifesting for this to never happen in canon ever, you know :') This one's gonna be long too, I might put it under a read more. We'll see!

EDIT: This is definitely going under a read more, it's like 4k words or something. It's like, half notes, half almost-prose, so um. H. Hope you like it? Buckle up boys, this is a long one ajhdalsfhklaskfja

Right, so! Hm. Where to start. 

Let's try this. It's about 100 years after the season 2 finale. We follow Grogu, entering a bar or an inn or some other establishment. He's now maybe a teenager - I'm not sure how age works on his species - but he travels the galaxy alone, doing what? I'm not sure! He trained in the ways of the Jedi from when Luke picked him up to the destruction of the Jedi academy in the hands of Kylo Ren. He'd perhaps finished the necessary training by then, or was away by complete chance, but he survived, and spent the next few years running and hiding from the First Order. That threat is gone now, but he's still touring the galaxy. 

Maybe he's still looking for his dad, even though he knows, logically, that humans only live for a hundred years if they're lucky, and he was already older than his dad when they met, but... Or maybe he's looking for other Force-sensitive children? The Jedi way doesn't seem to be working since they've now failed spectacularly twice in a rather short tim, so maybe he's kind of doing his own thing. Maybe he's going to the children and teaching them to control their abilities and to live with them. He's trying to make sure no one else has to be separated from their parents and family, like he was. 

Anyway! He's been going around for quite some time now, and now when he walks into this establishment, he spots all kinds of patrons, including... Mandalorians. It's not that unusual - I don't know what happened to Mandalore, but there are more Mandalorians around now, he's witnessed their growth in his time travelling the galaxy, and he comes across them from time to time now.  He tries to talk with them whenever he can, which is usually when they're not hostile towards him, which isn't that rare! They are, however, rather guarded towards outsiders, which he knows he is, he did knowingly choose the path of the Jedi all those years ago after all.

Even so, he has learnt things about Mandalorian culture from those chats, and some Mando'a, too, but not much. Sometimes he's just had to sit near a group of Mandalorians to try to learn Mando'a by listening to them, when he's been desperate. He has learnt a lot though, different beliefs, dialects, clan names, clan signets - he's seen dozens of those, heard many stories behind them. These Mandalorians all have some part of their armor painted red - honoring a parent, he knows. Maybe Grogu doesn't see the signet well at first? He's too far away. The shape is a kind he doesn't remember seeing before, but it's somehow familiar. Maybe he creeps closer, gets a table near them, sits down to eat his food and to listen, brush up on his Mando'a, if they'll speak any, it's not always the case. 

Then. Suddenly. He hears it. A name he only vaguely remembers, but remembers anyway, despite hearing it only once or twice ages ago. A hundred years. Idk if it's just the Mandos in red beskar, or if they have someone else there too, but someone calls one of the Mandalorians by their surname. The sound of it cuts through the chatter of the establishment. Djarin. One of the Mandalorians was called Djarin.

"Tell them it's from Din Djarin-”

"-Carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it-"

It's like he's been hit by lightning, energy crawling all over his skin, like he's supercharged. Hope surges in him, but dies as quickly. It's been too long, and surely, if it were him, he would've recognized him? And it's been too long. Even so, he turns in his seat to look at the group. He's close enough now that he spots it. The sigil, on the right pauldron. The vaguely familiar shape. 

It's a mudhorn.

-Him, in his small pod, straining, lifting a giant horned creature, using the Force for the first time in years, after the Dark, Dad looking at him in wonder, the two shiny pieces of his armor covered in mud-

Grogu doesn't sense the familiar, safe presence he remembers, but it must be the same signet. It must. One of the Mandalorians turns their helmet just a bit but he can tell they're looking at him now, so he turns to his food and tries to merely look fascinated by the beskar, even if it is kind of rude, and not like. Like he's seen a ghost, which is probably pretty close to how he feels. 

He probably finishes his food - it would feel rude to eat when others can't - and makes his way to the table where the Mandalorians are. He speaks Mando'a to them to get their attention, ljust a greeting, and they're surprised he knows any, and the discussion starts from there. He tells them he's quite fascinated by the culture and has taken any chance he gets to talk with Mandalorians. Even if his Mando'a isn't very good. He says he hasn't seen their signet before, and they tell him it's a mudhorn. Clan Mudhorn.

They introduce themselves, just a little, they're still cautious, but give their first names at least? One of them, a younger boy, a teenager maybe, is called Din, though he's not the one referred to as Djarin. Grogu remarks it's not a very traditional Mandalorian name, to which they tell him it's probably not, as the boy is named after the founder of their clan, and he was a foundling himself. "Oh", is all Grogu can say, because he's sure now, these people are from his clan. Their clan. Their little clan of two.

He asks about the story behind the signet, and they tell him quite eagerly! It's grown and been both simplified and exaggerated, polished, but Grogu can recognize the battle he remembers. He's in it too. Saving their ancestor - saving Dad - and to his surprise, the story doesn't end there, but instead includes also the betrayal and the redemption, when he was exchanged for beskar and when he was rescued. He didn't guess Dad would've felt so guilty about giving him away; he'd rescued him, Grogu had already forgiven him then.

They're still a little cautious, but maybe they've heard form other mandos that the little green guy with the big ole ears that speaks Mando'a is a cool dude, so it doesn't take that much for Grogu to get some more stories out of them. Like how their clan started to grow, a.k.a. how Din found his second foundling,  and the third, and how he was the Mand'alor for a sec, and how he did not like it at all, and of other things he did, and then, eventually, Grogu gathers the courage to ask what happened to him.

But about the foundlings. How the clan began to grow. If you thought Din "Mandadlorian" Djarin could turn off his dad instinct once it was activated, you'd be sorely mistaken. Granted, it took some time, but once the wound of losing literally everything scabbed over a little and the pain of having to have given up his child eased somewhat, he did find more kids for himself to parent.

I think the first foundling would've been, hm, not quite as young a child? I think maybe she were a teenager, or even a young adult. She wasn't a foundling, per say, but Din probably took her under his wing anyway? Maybe she was a young Mandalorian from a similar covert as the one he'd been in, but she'd survived some attack on it, as the only one, and crossed paths with Din, who then first was just gonna teach her to, idk, do bounty hunting, help her join the Guild, but then she stuck around. She would've already had her own name, so she's of the line the younger Din Grogu met is a part of.

The second would've been a small child again, this would've been around the time of the First Order's existence? They would've come across a village destroyed by an attack by the order, and from the ruins Din would've discovered a young child. Not much older than Grogu was, really. He would've taken them in, and raised them. Eventually he did adopt them both, and this younger child would've been given the name Djarin, because they wouldn't have found their original name, other than the first name. And the first child would've gotten married and the spouse would've joined the clan, and they'd found more foundlings, as would Din, too, eventually, I'm sure, and not all of them were kids? But he probably adopted them anyway. With the Mandalorian adoption vow.

There would've had to be a realization from him, though, I think at first he took his time saying the vows because he hadn't said it to Grogu when he'd had the chance and he would've felt like it'd been a betrayal to say it to these kids but not his son, the one who taught him to love like a parent. But he would get, quite quickly, that him loving these kids doesn't take away of the love he has for Grogu, and that it's not right by them that he would reserve a place in his heart only for one child. He can and should love all of them, and he does realize this, and does adopt them, and loves them all like the bestest single space dad he is. Grogu is happy to hear that; he was such a good parent to him that he's glad that other kids have had the chance to have someone love and protect them the same way he was loved and kept safe. He does feel a pang of sadness as he does everytime he hears of the adoption vow, and feels a little as if he's been forgotten since they don't know his name in the stories, but he does know they only had a relatively short time together, so it's no wonder then, if compared to the many years the others have spent with Dad, he had been a little forgotten.

The way the founder died, though. Family is important to all Mandalorians, but seems to be even more so to Clan Mudhorn, Grogu observes. When he hears about the story of the clan signet, they tell him that's not the only story everyone in the clan knows by heart. There's also the story of how the founder died, and the first time he's not brave enough to ask and no one offers to tell him, but later he gathers his courage and does ask. And they tell him.

Grogu hears of the restless times of the rise of the First Order. The chaos. Bloodshed. Tyranny. The clan had been more or less in hiding on a planet, trying to lay low and stay out of trouble, but they'd been found and attacked. For the beskar, for some other reason? Were they on Mandalore? Was that attacked again, by the order? Maybe? Whatever the reason, it had been calm, too calm, like the calm before the storm, and then the attackers had come. The founder had died protecting his family, the Mandalorians tell Grogu, he'd bought them time to escape. 

He'd saved the oldest of the foundlings, his first daughter, really, who'd been the mother of the eldest of the Mandalorians Grogu met in the inn, an older woman going by the voice and what the Force was telling him. Her mother had been pregnant with her at the time of the attack, and her life was directly saved by the founder of their clan, Din Djarin. Grogu's Dad. 

It's like a thread, connecting Grogu and his dad and this woman, through the decades. Something concrete, tangible proof that he, Din, Dad, had lived and been alive and existed in this world. Sometimes Grogu thinks it might all have been a dream he dreamed up in between hiding from the Empire and hiding from the Order, because a year feels like such a short time for him, sometimes, and it has been so long. But no. This person is proof. His father had saved her. She is alive because he existed. Just as Grogu is.

The final thing the founder had done before going into battle, they tell Grogu, had been to hand an object to his eldest daughter, something that'd been the Child's, and to make sure he would get it. And she had promised. That's the reason this story has been passed on with the story of the signet, to keep the promise and deliver the object to the Child, should their paths someday cross. 

What happened to the Child, Grogu asks  - he doesn't know if they haven't passed on his name or if they just don't want to share it with an outsider - and the Mandalorians tell him the clan founder tried to keep the child safe, but he wasn't strong enough and failed, and even when he rescued the child, he knew he couldn't provide for him in the ways the child needed, so he was given to the Jedi to raise. This is what happened, Grogu knows, but his heart aches to hear Dad thought he wasn't good enough. Grogu would've gone back, he tried, after the temple was destroyed, he's been trying, but...

And he tells them that it's not so simple. That even if the founder failed, he still came back for the child and saved him, and let him choose his own path, and loved him so much and so purely that he was able to let him go, to let him follow the path he'd chosen. And that he was the greatest buir the child could have asked for, and that anytime the child was terrified, anytime they were scared, anytime they felt they were not brave enough to take another step, there was the beloved, familiar voice telling them to not be afraid, and always the child found the courage. And the child tried to come back, he really did, but the galaxy was so big and the child so small and he could not find his way back until it was too late.

And it seems like the older Mandalorians had guessed, by now, but Grogu takes out the mythosaur pendant he's had all these years, and tells them it's from Din Djarin. 

And they welcome him home. 

Later, when they take Grogu to the rest of the clan he is introduced to everyone. There are so many. Their clan of two has grown so big. There are more than one species, too. Many foundlings. Not all choose to follow the Way, and the ones who do not are let go, to find their own paths, and loved all the same. 

He asks what they did to his Dad's armor. Most of it went to the foundlings - of this clan and of others who might've needed it - but for two parts. The right pauldron, which is now passed on from clan leader to the next, with the original clan signet, and the helmet. They'd thought the helmet was destroyed, it was stolen by the people who'd attacked their clan way back then, but they'd recently heard rumours of a helmet of pure beskar found in some stashes of the First Order that had been unearthed somewhere. No one knows where it is, though, but they're planning on getting it back, someday, somehow. Grogu promises his help in that endeavour. 

The clan also finally fulfills the eldest daughter's promise. The object is delivered to the Child. Grogu sees it and kind of wants to cry. 

It's the ball. The knob. From the Razor Crest. He takes it and probably does cry a little. It has so many memories written into every tiny scratch and groove. He thanks them, but when they offer him a place to sleep he declines and goes to the inn or his ship. He is not Mandalorian, he chose the path of the Jedi, and that's it, he thinks, sadly. He doesn't think he can really be a part of this clan, this family, because he chose not to be, you know? He's pretty sure you have to be born or brought into the Mandalorian Creed, to be raised in it, or at least adopted. He hasn't been, or someone would've mentioned it if he had, and as if he'd ever call anyone else his buir. No way. So, this is it, he thinks, he knows what happened to Dad, he can move on now, he guesses. 

That night, before bed, he examines the ball again. It looks a little strange to him, not as he remembers. Didn't it have a hole in it where it got screwed onto the gear stick on the Crest? It did, it must have. Grogu remembers turning it with the Force, around and around until Dad noticed and gave it to him. It doesn't have it now. That's strange. It's like... it's been filled in with something.... He fiddles with it and he must press or nudge something, or maybe it was the Force he used, but something pops out. It's an old fashioned holo-stick? Like an usb stick, but like, space-y.

It takes him some time until he finds a player (or maybe we'll just have the ball play it, idk) and he plugs it in one night, alone on his ship (or that same night if we skip this ahdkshd). A hologram flickers to life. It works! There's a small moment of triumph before his breath freezes. That's Dad. In the hologram. The armor and the helmet and the voice. All of it. Just like in his memories, just blue and flickering and transparent as holos are. But it's Dad. 

Grogu doesn't know when it was recorded, and he doesn't particularly care. He just listens to Dad's familiar, soothing voice.

What he tells him, though. If Grogu is seeing this, that means he couldn't keep his promise. 

"I'll see you again. I promise."

Ni ceta, ner ad'ika, he says, he hopes he can destroy the stick when they meet again in person and he can tell this to the kid face to face, but it has been. Restless. Recently. So he thought he'd make this, just in case. 

He wants the kid to know he has said these words to himself a hundred times, in his mind, out loud, and they have been true in his heart since at least the moment he looked upon the face of the child he had risked it all for, faced stormtroopers and all of the guild, that one night on Nevarro, when he'd shielded him and gently stroked his tiny little head, content with that being the last thing he would ever get to see but full of guilt for not being able to give this child a better life. Since then, at the very least. But, even if he can't say them to the kid face to face, he swears he has said them and meant them every time. They will hold true until the end of time, even after he's gone and joined the manda, even after this recording is gone and no evidence remains. 

Here, he pauses and takes off the helmet, and Grogu looks upon the face of his father for the second time in his life. He has gotten older, of course, grey streaks in his dark hair and wrinkles on his face, but he is still the same man, the same safe presence, with the same gentle sadness, the same overwhelming love in his eyes as that day that ended up being their final together in this world. Grogu has to blink away the tears blurring his vision to drink in the image of the one who saved him, one who protected him, one who cared for him as the first person after the Dark, the first one who loved him. His father. His buir. Dad.

Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad, Grogu.

The hologram of his father smiles a little, almost like he can see Grogu's hand touch his face on the hologram, desperate to let him know he heard the words and has wished, known, to hear them for so long, and that he loves Dad, so, so much. Dad once again says he hopes he'll get to tell him in person, but that even if he won't, they'll be true all the same. He hopes Grogu has found his path and place in the world, and that whatever it may be, Jedi or Mandalorian or both or neither, he is, and will forever be, so proud of him. 

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. That's the last thing he says, before clearing his throat and a little awkwardly putting his helmet back on. It's so like Dad that Grogu almost smiles. When Dad leans forward to stop the recording, he stops for just a second with his head bowed. Grogu doesn't know if it was on purpose or just by coincidence, but it is the perfect spot for him to lean his head forward towards the hologram, and for a second, just a moment, he can almost feel the coolness of the beskar gently press against his own bare forehead, through the years and parsecs. Then the hologram flickers out, and he is left in the darkness. 

However, there's a warmth in his chest he hasn't felt in a long, long time. It will stay there, forever, long after the members of their clan have passed and joined his father in the manda, centuries, even after the recording will be unusable and he will have long forgotten his father's face and the sound of his voice, the knowledge that he was there and he existed and he loved him, loved Grogu, so thoroughly and deeply and so much, that will stay.

Tonight, though, they're both bright and clear in Grogu's mind, and the warmth in his chest blazes like a thousand suns, and even as he sleeps, and his tears dry on his cheeks, he smiles. 

And that's the fic. 

Hope you liked it! I've also got like, hm, a companion piece? It's like a shorter one shot, about what exactly happened to Din, like how he died? I've got that written in actual prose, not this half-ramble-half-fic format, but I didn't add it here becuse this is long enough already. If you'd like to see that, too, hit me an ask or a reply! I'd be glad to share that too! Hurted me to reread. 

Oh, and since I mentioned a song that inspired the space fic, this one's go two, too; Shelter by Porter Robinson & Madeon, and The Truth Is A Cave by The Oh Hellos, especially the bit that goes "I was blind to every sign you left for me to find", via the logic that like... after the stuff that went down at Jedi School, Din and Grogu kept looking for each other in the galaxy but kept just barely missing each other all that time, until his mortality caught up to Din, after which Grogu still kept looking. But, as he said, the galaxy is so big, and he is so small. There was also a third song for the part with the hologram, but I've forgotten what it was because I didn't write it down anywhere. :( It might have been Arctic by Sleeping At Last... I really don’t remember, and this annoys me a whole lot rn. Hm. >:/

In any case! If someone wants to see the part with Din, let me know, and I hope you enjoyed my ramble. Thanks for asking about it!

[rein-ette]

Thanks @needcake for tagging me for the WIP game! I’ll tag @oumaheroes and @amalysstuff — please share a bit of a WIP (my understanding is any bit you like) of yours (*´꒳`*)♡

For me, I’ve been working on some portfra—my guilty pleasure. This is a very complex relationship that doesn’t lend itself easily to fics, which is precisely why I love exploring it. I wanna make this into an ongoing collection which I’ve dubbed Adonis & Hyacinthus, in honour of, naturellement, my two boys’ legendary beauty. This short piece about them when they’re younger is part of it! I’m actually really proud of this WIP and cannot wait to finish it, but before that here’s a bit that made me fall in love with their relationship as I wrote it.

Gabriel glanced over at Francis covering their leftovers with plastic wrap at the counter, but Francis was looking elsewhere, seemingly lost in thought. Gabriel realized with a small frission of surprise that in this lighting, he could just barely see the pale web of scars around Francis’ right eye, usually imperceptible against his fair skin or well-concealed by makeup. He had long guessed that the scars were from the Second World War, but never felt it was his place to ask. Arthur probably knew, but he too almost never spoke of those years, something Gabriel often agonized over during those long nights when he lay awake, listening anxiously to Arthur toss and turn beside him and sometimes stumble out of bed to vomit in the bathroom. On those nights, Gabriel would hold him when he came back, stroking his hair and murmuring soft nothings until they both fell back asleep again. He wondered if Arthur and Francis did the same for each other when they slept together, wondered if they found more comfort in each other because of the understanding they shared.

Feeling his own mood dim, he forced himself away from those thoughts. As he placed another dish on the growing pile beside him and pulled a saucepan under the scalding water, he reflected on how Francis had become noticeably quieter after the war. There were moments in meetings, even parties, when Gabriel would catch Francis staring off into the middle distance, a nameless emotion in those ageless blue eyes. Of course, Gabriel had long known that Francis had at least one serious side to match each of his glowing smiles, though even this, Gabriel felt, he had figured out rather too late. The problem was that, even as a child, reading Francis was like trying to see through an Arctic glacier to the sea floor below. As Francis aged, the ice only got thicker and the ocean deeper. He remembered Arthur had once compared Francis’s personality to Daedalus’s Labyrinth — fathomless and ever-changing, with a will of its own that even it’s creator couldn’t quite control. It was this lack of control over his own mind, Arthur said, that drove Francis to pursue mastery over his expressions and body; the logic being that if he could not understand his own heart, at the very least no one else would be able to, either.

Gabriel scraped a dried bit of sauce from the saucepan and wondered if he and Francis had never quite gotten along because they were too similar — too afraid of being seen through by others, too afraid of themselves and what they were capable of, too afraid of being swallowed by the waves that lapped constantly at the shores of his mind.

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge.

[valaks]

Hey Valaks! I love your blog and your writing!

Please could you do 1, 10 and 18 for the writing asks?? 🌺

Thank you for the ask! I have added a cut to hopefully not be that person clogging up the feed XD

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

I have a few collabs outstanding like Gemini and a Kabir/Alex sequel to Reunion (It’s rated T at the most so still kid friendly) with Lupin and Devil Went Down to Georgia with Galimau. My utter love for both of my collab partners for pulling me through at a time when I’ve been really struggling. I have a WIPs List but I’ll confess to not having touched most of them in quite sometime (partly from life, partly because I’m not sure how interesting they’d be to anyone else other than me which influences my writing more than I would like to admit):

Good Intentions: Smithers never thought he’d be anyone’s moral compass, he was no angel to sit in anyone’s shoulder but trying to keep Alex Rider from following in the ruthless footsteps of his father or worse his former handler, Alan Blunt is as close to hell as he can imagine. (Wherein Alex becomes head of MI6 we watch his morality slip away form the eyes of an increasingly frustrated and heartbroken Smithers - it all culminates when Alex uses a child “just as an informant, simple information gathering” but hidden behind the charming smile of John Rider and the brutal coldness of Alan Blunt’s words is Alex Rider dying as he says them (Smithers just hopes there’s still a part of the boy he once knew in there to mourn)

Walk the Line: Alex thought he was done with SCORPIA. But they kept creeping back into his life in the most unexpected of ways. He thought he could at least count on it being on the other side until he gets teamed up with Walker, his former classmate and current CIA spy. Unfortunately he still hasn’t been able to figure out whose side Walker is really on - attempted deep cover op like his dad, repatriated rogue spy back on the “good” side, or SCORPIA double agent? He doesn’t know but at least he’s nice....in that obnoxious American way.

Temperamental: (Sequel to Sentimental which isn’t all that popular and you would need to read it for the sequel but basically amnesiac Yassen whose memories stop pre John’s betrayal set during the Stormbreaker mission and features him trying to come to grips with the use of chemical weapons against children and how to handle Alex once he snaps back to reality which is where this starts) Yassen had promised Alex Rider that he would be safe from the world of spying but fate had other ideas. In the days after Sarov’s failed plan, Yassen scrambles to find where MI6 have hidden his wayward charge without drawing Rothman’s attention. A request from one of their existing clients to look into suspicious activity at his son’s former school prompts Yassen to investigate under the guise of offering security. He should have known where there was trouble there would be Alex.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Lordy do I ever not have a good answer for this. Typically it involves an idea hitting me and then the determination: would this idea work better as a short to post on tumblr (because the set up would take away the tension or would require a multi chapter which is not really my strength), as a prompt to lob out into the ether for someone better and brighter to touch on, or a fic. Once fic is decided I determine whose perspective the fic would be the most interesting from either because it would create the most tension or their internal monologue/background knowledge would add the most to it. Then the summary is written and a title is chosen. If it’s something I’m really passionate about and I already have it in my head I tend to write it all in one go, if there’s more I need to chew on then it’s a series of dates with the Evil Writing App. The final determination is whether it’s good enough for Valaks or if it gets sent to an alt account.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Allegedly. I’ll try to go in order of posting -

Ruthless has a sequel where Alex just goes *quiet* once the initial dust as settled it’s unnerving to everyone because they’re not used to having to wonder just what Alex is thinking, at least not behind closed doors but what happened isn’t exactly something that can be recovered from easily, not when Alex isn’t sure who all’s in on it no matter what they’ve told him. Failure is the AU where I considered what would happen to Alex to make him want to torture.

Alibi was originally going to have Yassen show up in the end but I found it far more fascinating if MI6 was just testing Alex so out went Yassen and in went Ben. The sequel to it was torn apart and turned into Warm Reception because I wanted to trope flip SCORPIA comes to Brooklands and decided that it was more logical to have a small fight in Mrs. Bedfordshire’s lobby than anywhere else and I wanted to explore some side characters instead of Ben.

Providence’s sequel thoughts ended up inspiring Gentleman’s Agreement but I did write a small short for it “Yassen and Alex encounter each other on mission. Surprisingly they are working to mostly the same goal - Yassen needs to kill the millionaire who Alex needs to get information from. “I suppose I could answer some questions for you, Sasha. /In Russian/“ “Is now really the time for a language lesson?” he ground out in frustration but the man pointedly ignored him “/Fine but I don’t know some of the words/“ “/Then there is no better way to learn/“

I mentioned the Sentimental sequel but changing Sarov to come first and probable for almost a month before Yassen figures out he’s missing made the most sense. It was also a bit of fun at the Yassen would absolutely take Alex away from MI6....just to throw him in a school and throw away the key. Almost had him send him to Point Blanc but decided that wouldn’t quite fit all that well and wouldn’t be as interesting as if Alex had already gotten his feet back under him with MI6 and now sees that Yassen was right that MI6 would just use him until he’s dead but that doesn’t mean Alex wants to be anywhere near Yassen. Julia Rothman might have other ideas when she finds out what her newest second in command is hiding.

Gentleman’s Agreement.....there’s a lot of thoughts on Sequels and AUs, a lot of them have been written by better people, but that fic was written in 45 minutes so there wasn’t much time to recharacterize or change scenes. It did get Turncoat aka the Alex saves Yassen fic I wanted so badly.

Blood Brothers is a fic I really worked hard on considering how John would feel about his son being thrown into SCORPIA assuming Alex was of age. A rocky marriage was characterization that didn’t quite fit what I imagined would have happened but did fit the story so it stayed in. It was a fic that was supposed to get expanded on - the competition between Hunter and Yassen and Nile and Alex who is desperate to beat his Dad and his “apprentice”. I think two teenagers thrown against each other with a bit of a bone to pick, especially Yassen and Alex who can both hold a grudge even if one runs hot and the other runs cold, would have been compelling and a little fun but the premise and specifically John’s characterization doesn’t quite work out to me.

Found and Legends both have their plotting done but it’ll never see the light of day

Little Moments and Sweetest Thing were my guilty pleasure writing pieces for a while and I have about 1000 DMs of scenes for both of them that are lost to the sands of time and an embarrassing amount of self indulgence

Mates has a follow up ending for those who needed resolution in the comments of it. I’m not sure I did a good job of showing that Tom was in a semi abusive relationship since a lot of people seemed to blame him for him and Alex’s breakup. Most of my headcanons for how their relationship goes have them splitting much sooner just because of Tom’s own home life and either being unable to relate/talk to Alex and drifting away because his Mom throwing a plate at his head isn’t being hung over crocodiles but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt or because Alex is just too dangerous/jumpy to be thrown back into a school environment and lashes out even unintentionally especially not under the pressure of being seen as a failure. School is also a barometer of just how much he’s lost of himself and his childhood, bonus points for Alex being completely upfront with Tom about everything he’s done

In My Sights has an AU where this is all post Christmas at Gunpoint and Yassen is there because he knows Ian is already at Sayle’s factory and will have to be...handled. So two weeks of just getting Alex trained for the protection he might need, connecting him to resources, etc. Ian finding out that Yassen had been there was part of a draft at one point which was included Alex wondering about an all too sincere goodbye from Ian “who never hugged him” but I can’t find the snippet anymore ;__;

A Warm Reception was an alternate version. Originally I wanted it to be Alex watching his last chance at normality slip from his fingers and then the crushing realization that it was something that was his own doing, not even MI6 but Skoda who he had picked a fight with and the accompanying breakdown but then decided that Mrs. Bedfordshire was the right way to go upon writing the summary. Because everyone loves some Outsider POV

Adopted was supposed to be a one chapter throw away trope flip of K Unit adopts Alex. I kept it pretty consistent with Amitai and Lil Lupin’s K Units, tried to add in some more characterization just in how they treated some of the details. It has an alt ending/chapter where they find out Alex is Cub when they pull him from Three’s tender mercies almost by accident. I was persuaded into light humored fluff via guilt trip.

The Truth and Other Deadly Weapons has Ben acting exactly like he think he would in front of everyone but my AU was that this interaction happened in the field and absolutely shattered Ben’s trust in him partly because he had worked for the other side and partly because even if it ‘wasn’t as bad as it looks’ it showed a severe lack of judgment. It also featured several chapters of Alex running into the glass ceiling that is having “Member Malogosto Class of 2004” on your resume. Was going to feature Alex running into Walker as well and into problems within MI6 and the CIA but that was eventually cut and it was kept to one chapter.

Guardian....Guardian holds a very special place in my heart. I was given the prompt of a Monster Fic and I wrote what I knew but the interesting parts were all the ones that come after the story but might come across to a general audience as Hogwarts School of Prayers and Miracles. The plotting done post this was going to feature baby Angel Alex reuniting with his parents but...they were strangers to him and so he stayed with Yassen more and more, followed him, learned from him....it encompassed everything from the dynamics of broken families to reflections on theology and references from the Good Book....which is why it’ll never see the fandom but has a very special place in my heart.

In another, more perfect world Glocking Around the Christmas Tree is the Die hard fic this fandom deserves but as Lupin and I untangled the plot of the movie more and more we just couldn’t make it into anything that would be coherent on paper so it was changed and changed and is now a half finished sad abomination that sits on my works list only because Lupin would kill me if I took it down.

Hot Shot was supposed to feature my current favorite character that is not Nile Abara, John Crawley but I wimped out and changed it at the end because I swore I would write the Crawley fic that we all need. Hear me out: John Crawley knew and worked with John and Ian Rider, was respected by both of them, was recruited by SCORPIA within one year in the field, is the Chief of Staff of MI6, the man who “no one gets a knife in the back without him signing off” and is also the man who walks his dog to check on Alex. There’s a mentorship waiting to happen there, preferably in a nice work study program during college where Alex finally gets to see the repercussions of his missions and Crawley helps try and pull him back from the black mark that SCORPIA would have put on him.

My personal fluffy favorite is the spinoff of Devil Went Down to Georgia where Joe Byrne did pull Alex out post Skeleton Key and brought him home. There’s a pretty extended one about where Tom ends up after Mates. There’s also an actual sequel but ask me no questions and all.

Skipping a few collabs and Febuwhump fics but Burning Questions was just supposed to be Branded - a fic where upon being captured by Razim he is brought in and forcibly branded to differentiate the appearances of Alex and Julius (since Razim has decided to have him killed after shooting the Secretary of State). As a result of the pain levels spiking when Alex actually sees that the SCORPIA logo is branded onto his cheek Razim considers that emotional pain might be something to investigate. There’s a couple thousand words on it, one day I might polish it up.

First Impressions is supposed to be a mirror verse of Alex working for MI6 which includes Three as Blunt, Rothman as Jones and of course Sagitta as K Unit while he’s up against his father as Yassen and Yassen as Crawley. But it was cut down significantly even if the ideas are pretty fun to consider.

Sorry this was probably more than you bargained for but it was fun to get everything out there so thank you for asking

[hercleverboy]

CONGRATULATIONS MY LOVE, you deserve this so so much that i cannot even put it into words, although that will not stop me from trying. you are genuinely one of the most talented sweetest people i have ever met, you make me so happy just by messaging me and you’re so supportive and i’m so happy that you’re so successful. i am struggling to think of another person who deserves this more than you, you’re talented, and intelligent and so nice and beautiful and interesting and i’m so so so happy for you and i hope you know that i love you babe💋❤️

NOW SORRY FOR HOW SAPPY THAT WAS but for your celebration can i do🍉💌💓and📒(i’ll let you pick your fav fic of mine cause i would like to hear about dat one from your perspective)

kate’s 1.5k sleepover !! 🥂

holly!! you’re such a sweetheart, I love you very much💞

💓 I’ll give you a compliment!

holly I am about to detail all the ways I love you in your lil’ love letter, however I’ll take this opportunity to remind you what a fantastic writer you are! your ability to encompass spencer’s character always blows me away <3

🍉 I’ll choose one of my wip’s and post a little snippet!

this comes from my wip ‘comatose’, which I only started working on a day or two ago, enjoy!

He gulped, tried to slow the shaking of his hands as he entered the room, pushing the door closed behind him.

When his eyes landed on her, laying in the hospital bed, machines hooked up to her and numerous coloured wires spiralling from her arms, he had to take a moment. He felt his breath catch in his throat, his eyes begin to water at the mere sight of her. It was as though the world had stopped turning, if only for a moment, as he watched her chest move up and down ever so slightly. He felt frozen, unable to move forward. His brain raced with medical facts and statistical probabilities (none of which he liked the sound of.)

Spencer had never felt so helpless.

As if everything had suddenly locked into place, he felt himself moving toward her, his feet seemingly moving on their own accord and he felt himself struggling to catch up with the movements of his own body. All he knew was that he had to get to her, he had to feel her.

He grasped her hand in as tight of a hold as he could, whimpering at how cold her hands felt. His only comfort was that of the heart monitor by her bedside, beeping steadily. He sat down in the chair that was placed beside the bed, holding her hand in both of his and resting his head on her stomach, desperately trying to calm down his erratic breathing. He whispered to himself, reminded himself that she was alive, forced himself to count the beats of her heart as he heard them on the monitor, clutching onto her hand in such a vice-like grip that he was sure she would have winced if she was awake.

After a few moments, having calmed himself down as much as he could in that situation, he looked up at her, watched the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, finding comfort in the slight flush of her cheeks, clinging to any and every sign of life from her— because if Spencer didn’t focus on those then he’d have to admit how petrified he was that she looked so lifeless. Void of all warmth and solace that he usually found within the woman he loved.

Spencer had never felt so helpless.

📒send me a fic of yours and I’ll write a review

since you asked me to choose, I’ve gone for ‘Dancing With Our Hands Tied’ , because you know how much I love a good angst fic (which this certainly is!)

Right out of the gate, Holly hits us right in the heart with the ‘Spencer Reid hated funerals’. I mean, it just immediately sets the tone for this piece, puts this pit in our guts because as a reader we know that this is gonna hurt to read, in the best way possible. It’s that slightly sinking feeling you get with angst where you know it isn’t going to end well for Spencer, but yet it’s already captured you and pulled you in— there’s no way you’re going to stop now. I always find with Holly that she manages to do that so well in all of her pieces. I’m always immediately immersed into the world she creates, always hooked on every word.

And then we have “No matter how many philosophers described love in the most beautiful, enchanting way, Spencer didn’t want it anymore.” That’s such a beautiful sentence, and perfectly encapsulates the way that Spencer feels. He’s watching Hotch lose his wife, and he’s thinking ‘god please, don’t ever let me have to feel a pain like that.’ It’s very life like, so much so that it almost hurts. When you watch those you love, your friends, suffer through such unfathomable pain, and you watch how much it breaks them, you do find yourself hoping that it’ll never happen to you— that you’ll never have to suffer the same fate.

Which ultimately is why this piece is so well written, why it flows so easily and it’s because swearing off of love after watching his friend suffer as a consequence is such a Spencer thing to do. He’s managed to convince himself that in order to protect himself, save himself the hurt, the answer is simply to never fall in love. But of course, in a very Spencer-like fashion, he forgets that we never fall in love on purpose. Love is not so black and white, it is complex in its intricacies and is never so simple. He forgets that we often end up falling when we’re not even searching for love, and is that not just the perfect way for Spencer Reid to find the love of his life? When he really isn’t looking for them?

And then, as all tales of love go, he falls hard and fast for someone when he was least expecting to. (side note: the use of ‘a truly impossible task’ is so good here, mostly because again, holly manages to completely encompass the essence of Spencer’s character. Spencer has never thought he was good enough, a fact we all know. As far as he is concerned, everyone leaves eventually. no one is permanent, no one stays for as long as they say they will. an impossible task indeed.)

I love that his and the readers first date is so spontaneous, a little out of character for him but perfectly so: because it makes so much sense for him to get distracted by a person who manages to enamour him entirely, until suddenly they’ve been talking for hours and he’s thinking of how he nearly missed out on this, how he nearly swore off of love entirely. (the scene of Spencer freaking out over whether the previous night was in fact a date, and what kind of flowers would be appropriate for him to give her— again, so entirely Spencer and so so adorable.)

Spencer deciding that the only logical way to keep the reader safe is to keep them a secret for a while is so incredibly him, because we saw him do that in canon with Maeve. Albeit, she did have a stalker, but Spencer deciding to hide her from the team for so long was for more personal reasons too, because truly he wanted to keep her to himself for a little while longer (which he covered with the whole ‘I wanted to protect her’ thing). but how cute of him to bring the reader flowers too!!! we love the domesticity of it all (especially with him calling them ‘flower’) and then Spencer refuses to let them meet the team, for a lot longer than they thought this relationship was going to be kept a secret. and then he becomes paranoid, of course, because he’s pouring so much into this idea of keeping his partner safe, preventing them from ending up like Haley that he actually manages to jeopardise the entire relationship. (good one, Spence.)

and then the final heart wrenching moment, where all of Spencer’s paranoia and insecurities mount up and he looses the love of his life and his child. it’s ironic, really. that he was so afraid of losing them that he thought he would protect them, but it was those actions that lead to losing them anyway. I really like the theme of flowers throughout this piece, and the symbolism that accompanies them.

the final part being ‘daffodils and daisies. the flowers of new beginnings’ really leaves this fic on a high note; despite all the angsty goodness involved. i love open-ended fics, ones that leave the slightest bit of room for the reader to imagine that things went a different way— perhaps the reader and Spencer meet again someday, and he gets to be a father to his child, or perhaps the reader starts their new beginning and gets to live the life they’d always wanted to, even without Spencer by their side. I love an indefinite ending; because it leaves space for the audience to create their own ending it a way, we get to decide just how sad this can be, or whether it is in a fact a happy ending.

(I cannot recommend holly’s other works enough, I would highly suggest you make your way through her brilliant masterlist)

💌 I’ll handwrite you a lil’ personal love letter!

[water-writings]

WIP Day!

I was tagged by the lovely @nightwingshero Thank you!!

I tag @swiftly-heart @starsandstormyseas @oathofoaks @kidawida @morganwriteblr @witchofinterest @pen-in-hand and anyone else who wants to try this. I know some of you are artists, so feel free to share your wips with that rather than writing :)

I’ve been working more on Casali and a little bit on Marnie so I think I’ll post a bit of both haha!

Marnie

Marnie stared at herself in the mirror. M’Gann had offered her room up to her to try on her new uniform and the brunette was anxious. She wasn’t sure what to expect. She didn’t know what to do for design. That was never her strong suit, she wasn’t artistic, she was more analytical and logical. She liked reading a long book rather than drawing or crafting something. She never had the artistic touch. 

But looking behind her through the mirror, on the bed sat the folded bundle of clothing that was her new hero costume. It made her anxious. Heart racing to see what it looked like. To look like an official hero. 

Marnie could feel her fingers tingling from her powers, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. she thought. 

She took a deep breath in before slowly letting it out. Remembering Zatanna’s tricks to clearing her mind. 

Close your eyes. Think of the good. 

She’s among friends. They’re here to help. Her family. Kenny. Her parents. They support her. Wally is here. He’s always there to help. 

One final deep breath and she opened her eyes. The tingling subdued and her heart was slowing down a little. 

Reaching out she picked up the top piece of clothing on the neatly folded pile. The fabric unfurled as Marnie held it up by its shoulders, or what was there of the shoulders. It was a long sleeve top with holes where the shoulders should be. 

She furrowed her eyebrows. That was definitely something she’d have to get used to. She’s never had one of those cold shoulder tops Marissa from Book Club always raved about. 

Slipping off her top, she swapped it out for the uniform’s top. To get the change over with, Marnie quickly switched into the shorts, belt, and shoes. The fabric on her was practically skin tight , something she’d definitely have to get used to. The shorts at least weren’t as tight on her as the top, but didn’t make it where they would get in the way of missions. And the boots were somewhat loose, enough for her to feel like she wouldn’t twist an ankle. At least she hoped. The heels on the boots were questionable. They weren’t huge heels, but definitely not something she would imagine she’d be able to walk - let alone run - in while on a mission. To who knows where! The places Wally’s mentioned to her that he and the Team have gone to astounds her!

Swallowing hard, Marnie could feel the tingles starting in her hands again. 

Good thoughts. Good thoughts. 

As much as she’d like to travel around the world for free, she was not ready for any fighting. Or using her magic. God she was terrified of her magic. 

Good thoughts. 

Taking a deep breath, the young girl turned around to see herself in the mirror and she froze. Almost like seeing her in her prom dress, Marnie was frozen staring at herself in the mirror. Only this time there was no smiling, just her looking at her reflection that shared the same anxious look she had. But staring at herself more and more in the mirror, her expression softened into almost curiosity. 

Marnie stretched her arms out to her side, examining the top’s design. It was a navy blue top with long sleeves that turned into gloves that covered only her two middle fingers in a dusty blue shade leaving her thumb, index, and pinky fingers exposed. The neckline reached up her neck in a curved V sort of shape that didn’t make Marnie feel like she was suffocating. Moreso in an elegant way. From the neck down to her chest was the same light blue as her fingers that came to a point at her chest. Her shoulders were bare like she guessed when holding up the top. The shoulders, neck, openings in her gloved hands, and light blue areas of the top were lined with a grey outline that was close to being silver. There was a slight sheen to the color. The small silver hoops she was wearing matched really well with the lining she had to admit. 

Then there was the shorts. Like she observed before, were skin tight, but left a little bit of room to move in. They had pockets like the jean shorts she likes to wear. The shorts were the same navy as the top so when put together, and the top tucked in, they blended into each other to look like one cohesive piece. Then the belt helped split the top and shorts up, while still keeping the cohesive look. It was a thick black belt that had three pouches that sat on her left hip. She liked those. They’d definitely come in handy for holding her notebook

Moving her feet, she tested out the boots a bit. They were the same navy as the top and shorts with black on the heels and bottoms. The toes had the same silver as the top, shining a little in the room’s light.

Marnie glanced behind her at the bed. Sitting on the corner was the last piece of the uniform, folded neatly. Like the majority of the design, she didn’t know what this last piece could be. She already felt that the uniform was enough and gave a somewhat hero look. She reached out, heart racing a bit to see what else could be part of the uniform, and grabbed the bundle. It was smooth to the touch and was a royal blue. Grabbing what she believed to be the end, the fabric unfolded and a soft gasp left Marnie. 

Turning it around and around, trying her best to find the top, Marnie could see silver lining the hem at one end of the fabric. It had to be the end, because she felt something heavy and cold touch her hand as she turned the fabric again. Grabbing that cold piece she found it to be a metal clasp. Undoing it, she turned back to the mirror and placed it around her neck. 

Her thoughts were right, it was a cape! The part where the clasp was fell down to her chest in a square shape, with the same silver lining that she saw earlier. The lining matching the one on her top. The end with the silver lining was the bottom. It came to three points, two on each corner and one in the middle of the fabric. Reaching behind her head she found a hood. Pulled over her head, it covered a good bit of her hair, but leaving enough to poke out and the fabric came to a point over her forehead. 

Casali

Gribot practically giggled as he looked at Casali. The frill around his neck slowly rose, framing his head as he grinned at her. Yellow eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room. “You are a gorgeous specimen, Miss Casali.” He circled her, his hand reaching out and tracing a marking on the back of her arm. He grinned when he saw goosebumps rise on her skin, but it fell when he saw her face. His tail flicked in annoyance. 

Casali stood staring ahead at the wall, avoiding any eye contact with the alien. Her face, as when she met him, devoid of any emotion. But behind that neutral face her heart was pounding. She knew her uncle hated her and she thought he’d go to any length to get rid of her, but she didn’t think he’d act on it. 

She wished the Mandalorian had taken her away when he had learned the true purpose of him bringing her to Gribot. He seemed mad. She had even caught a glimpse of him flexing his hands into fists when the truth came out. 

“You’re a stubborn one aren’t you?” Gribot asked, standing in front of her.

[emeraldbabygirl]

Not that anyone fucking cares and not that I even want to be on this hellhole site but I finally found my stupid fucking masterlist. I’ll find a way to stick it in my bio if anyone is interested. I have to update it and hopefully that won’t fuck it up. I have a few more fics to add and some other the other random bits that I need to link that tumblr never lets me. I’m relieved that I finally found it, I think that was the last missing tumblr post I found. I’m always gonna keep it in my drafts and I’ll make sure to leave a link back to it in all my pieces in case this buffoonery happens again.

Unfortunately as far as actually continuing any works I already had started of making any more fics I think I’m done writing. I haven’t had the motivation, the energy or the patience to write anything in months. I’m really sorry to the people that are still into my blog and works and I know a lot of you wanted more of that Sehyoon smut and a second part to Field Mouse and I’m sorry to let you down. I’m still keeping my ideas and wips in my drafts and notes because I want to leave the chance that I might pick up writing again open but rn I’m definitely not writing anymore and I won’t be for a long time. I thank all the people that enjoyed my works and I appreciate the support especially since I’m not good at writing in general and smut has been an adventure. I have been told that my writing got better so I’m glad about that.

Some other notes I’m fixing some bugs in my settings as well as changing the asks and submissions function, because it’s a common thing for people to take advantage of asks being sent on anon I’m disabling that. I was thinking about just completely preventing anyone from sending asks or submissions and then going as far and preventing comments and reblogs on some of my posts but I don’t want to be that person that doesn’t allow others to talk and express their opinions no matter how I take it and no matter what they say cause getting your feelings and views off your chest is very important and I don’t want to close off my blog from that but I will no longer be having an anon ask set up. This being said I do apologize to anyone that has used anon because they are shy and don’t want me and others to know who they are and I hope that doesn’t prevent you from still liking my content and enjoying my posts. Another thing is while searching for my masterlist I did have a fun time looking through a small amount of my blog content, old posts and gifs and asks and just fun stuff when my tumblr was booming and it’s fun to look back and see the variety of posts I had, so many gifs and pic of all kinds of idols. I know I’m into a lot of groups but this lil adventure really put it into perspective. I mean between me and my sister we stan, (well know of and listen to) over half the industry.

One last thing, I have posts scheduled til Monday so all the posts with the “she can’t come to the phone rn” tag is all being posted through queque because I’m not dealing with tumblr or anything on this site rn I’ve truly had it with some people and I’m finally taking a break for my mental and emotional health cause I’ve been through it this last week so I’m just not dealing with anyone. I’m just fucking exhausted and I’m sick of the same shit. Also tho, while we’re at it, I got a message that someone used to like my blog but now anymore because they were upset over a post I made and so I will say this once again cause it’s beyond. If you don’t like my posts, if you don’t like my blog, my content, me as a person all I ask is that you click that unfollow button and if you really think it’s necessary block me. It’s literally the dumbest thing to tell someone you don’t like them or their content like why are you wasting both our times? It’s just the logical response to unfollow and it’s so simple it’s just a click and you’re done. And this isn’t just for followers, if you are one of my mutuals and you don’t like me anymore, it’s the same thing. Be honest about it because for me, cause I’ve been through this twice already, it hurts me more when someone, especially if it’s one of my really close mutuals, there’s like 5 of you, and you just fake like me cause you don’t want to hurt my feelings instead of coming out and saying “hey we’re done here.” I’m clearly used to everything that is thrown at me and I don’t want you to feel like you have to like me anymore. If I do something that directly or indirectly upsets you, if there’s something I say that you don’t agree with and you feel like it’s enough to break the friendship we have you can either tell me what I did or have done or you can just be on your way. All the time I want all my mutuals and followers to like me and support me but hey, if it’s not working out it’s not working out and it doesn’t get any simpler than that. Like my last two mutuals, I am still thinking about you guys and always will and I will always cherish the memories and the fun times and all the talks and adventures we had. I’m not the type of person to get forget about someone I want to be able to look back and be grateful that y’all were here for a good time and not a long time lmao. I think that about does it for this post and this blog for a while.

[podracing-on-lothal]

WIP game: I'm curious about the Sign of the Sparrow! :-)

I had to go digging through my folders to find the “final” version of this WIP, because it’s been through so many drafts, and posted on several fan forums that I haven’t touched in over a decade, and it was hard to decide which chapter to post here because there’s so much from it that I loved writing! 

Here goes: 

"State your name, soldier," the first male who spoke said. Aeryrn was still shocked from her spill into the hole. She turned her gaze from the crossbow's end to the person holding it. The man was rather tall and muscular, built like a soldier. His short black hair looked like he had not washed it in a week. His brown eyes shone fiercely. When Aeryrn finally found her voice, she said, "My name is Aeryrn t'Laris, commander of the Warbird Keras." "A Warbird commander, eh?" The crossbow-man said. "What brings you here? Shouldn't you be fighting the Dominion with the rest of the quadrant?" "I've been relieved of duty," Aeryrn answered. She glanced at the other two figures standing behind the crossbowman. A male and a female. The both of them had their hair grown long and tied back in ponytails, their foreheads covered with a thin strip of cloth bearing a symbol of a bird.... ...just like the pendant she had picked up from the end-table by her bed! "Relieved of duty, my arse," the first male scoffed. "Every commander in the Empire is out fighting Breen and Jem'hadar fleets at our borders. How do we know you're not a spy from the Tal'Shiar?" "I just escaped from Colonel S'Harien's compound last night. I was helped by a man named Tovik." The man lowered his crossbow. "Tovik?" He asked. "Are you sure that was his name? Describe him." "He had dark brown hair and brown eyes," Aeryrn said. "He was of average height and build, and he....spoke in a strange language before going to bed." The man turned to his two comrades. The female nodded. She and the other male stepped forward and began to search Aeryrn. The female found the wooden bird pendant under Aeryrn's tunic. "Where did you get that?" She asked. "Oh, I found it on the bedside table at the inn this morning. I think Tovik left it there, because I don't remember seeing it there last night." The female exchanged a look with her two comrades. "You are to come with us," the first male said sharply. "Blindfold her." Aeryrn felt a piece of cloth cover her eyes. Somebody took her arm and walked her through the woods. The female told her when to duck her head or step carefully over rocks. Aeryrn had no idea where she was going. The blindfold was very disorienting; she hadn't the faintest idea which direction she was headed. At length they stopped at what felt like a clearing. There was a slight echo off the trees, which told her this was a particularly wide open clearing. "Saral," the first male said. "We found this soldier close to our camp. She carries our mark." Aeryrn heard footsteps approach her. In an instant, she felt the blindfold being lifted from her eyes. She blinked in the sunlight. She found she was indeed in a clearing, but only the ground was clear of shrubbery. They were surrounded by tall, almost evenly spaced trees positioned in an oddly-shaped circle. A group of tents sat in the middle of the clearing. A tall man was standing in front of her, holding the blindfold. "Thank you, M'Sek," the man said. Aeryrn had a good look at him; his dark hair was cropped short, his dark blue eyes had a piercing gaze, and his forehead was smooth. His expression was unreadable. A Vulcan. Aeryrn stared at him, a look of disbelief on her face. How did a Vulcan get here? "I see you are surprised to see a Vulcan in the midst of Romulans, soldier," he said. His voice was calm and unwavering. "What is your name?" "Aaah, Aeryrn t'Laris, sir," Aeryrn stammered. This had to be the strangest day of her life...just one shocking event after another. "That is her, father," a small voice said. Aeryrn looked past the Vulcan to see a small boy emerging from one of the tents. "She is the one who fought the Tal'Shiar officers yesterday." "Solan?" Aeryrn asked. The Vulcan Saral raised an eyebrow. "I see you have met my son already," he said. "He claims a woman named Aeryrn defended him from two Tal'Shiar officers. You. Is this true?" Aeryrn blushed a shade of bronzy-green. "Yes sir. I was arrested for it a few hours later. A man named Tovik helped me escape." Saral eyed the bird pendant around Aeryrn's neck. "He left you his pendant. The only logical explanation for why he was missing it when he returned." "Where is he?" Aeryrn asked. "He is currently indisposed," Saral answered. "He helped you escape from a Tal'Shiar prison. He knew the codes to deactivate the security systems within the compound. Does this strike you as odd?" Aeryrn suddenly remembered. He did know those codes. But how? "Yes, it does," she replied. "Why? How?" "Tovik knows those codes because he has been there before many times, both as a spy and as a prisoner. He worked as a spy first for the Federation, then for us after he escaped prison the first time. He spied for us after we found him." "For the Federation?!" Aeryrn asked. "How? How was he able to get past the authorities? The Neutral Zone? Who is he really?" "You will find out in due time," Saral answered. "But first you must prove you are not a spy for the Tal'Shiar yourself." "But I'm not!" The first male, M'Sek, answered her, "Sometimes, the Tal'Shiar plants spies into their prisons, so that if a prisoner escapes and decides to free the others, the spy can follow the escapee to wherever he or she goes." "But, I'm not a spy. I swear by the elements!" "Saral does not believe that," M'Sek answered. "And besides, how do we not know the officers' pursuit of Solan yesterday was a ploy for him to gain your trust so that you would someday turn around and turn him and his father in to the authorities? You are aware that the Tal'Shiar has set a bounty on Saral's head, are you not?" Aeryrn thought this over. "But I swear I'm no spy. What must I do to convince you?" "We will decide what to do with you this evening. Kaolea," Saral said, motioning to the female who had been in the capturing party. "Take Aeryrn to your tent. Give her food and water. And also, katauh du Bel Tovik." "Yes, sir." The Romulan woman named Kaolea motioned for Aeryrn to follow her to her tent. Aeryrn stooped as she entered. The tent was rather small, as if meant to house two people, but it was tall enough to stand up in. Kaolea took a canteen of water and handed it to Aeryrn. Aeryrn took it, thanking Kaolea and took a drink. "You must forgive Saral for his skepticism," Kaolea said. "He has had his share of the Tal'Shiar as well." "I can tell," Aeryrn said. The second male poked his head inside the tent. "Rinam," he said. "You can go get him now." "Tell him I'll be there in a moment, Aev," Kaolea said. The male nodded and disappeared. "That was my brother, Aev," she added. "Make yourself comfortable. I will be right back." She left the tent, leaving Aeryrn by herself. Aeryrn sat down on a thin mattress on the ground, which she assumed was Kaolea's bed. A few minutes later, Kaolea returned with a man. But Aeryrn did not immediately recognize him. His hair was light brown, his forehead was smooth, and, strangest of all, a series of tiny ridges crossed the bridge of his nose. An elaborate earring hung from two piercings on his right ear. "Aeryrn t'Laris, meet Bel Tovik, a friend of Saral's." Aeryrn recognized his soft brown eyes. Now she knew why they did not burn with the same fire as the rest of the Romulans. "So, my young Romulan friend," Tovik said, his smooth voice now fitting his appearance, "We meet again. The Prophets told me we would. If I may ask how you came upon us?" Aeryrn was a bit shaken. The man who helped her escape from S'Harien's compound was an alien, and a Federation spy at that! She told him about her capture by M'Sek, Kaolea and Aev. At length she removed the pendant from around her neck. "I believe this is yours," she said, handing it to him. "No no, keep it. I can always make a new one," Tovik said. "I believe you have something to tell me," Aeryrn said, giving Bel Tovik a piercing look. "Yes, I believe I do. But you must promise not to tell anyone outside of this camp what I am about to tell you, for your safety as well as mine." "I don't know anyone I would willingly tell about you," Aeryrn answered. Tovik promptly grabbed Aeryrn's ear. "What's that for?" Aeryrn asked when Tovik let go. "You have a very strong pagh, my child," Tovik said. "You must be very religious to have one so strong." "What is pagh?" "It is the spiritual force found in all sentient beings. You, my dear, must be very spiritual. Are you?" "Well, I did pray to the gods and elements to help guide my late parents and brother to Vorta Vor yesterday. I also asked them to guide me to carry out my vengeance against S'Harien for ordering their execution." Bel Tovik's expression hardened slightly. "Be careful what you wish for, Aeryrn. Vengeance has a way of rebounding on itself." "Which is why I asked the gods to guide me through it. But I have run into so much trouble since then." "Perhaps you should take a moment and ask yourself if vengeance is worth the lives of your parents and brother. The Prophets will reveal the answer in due time. Now, about myself…"

[sablegear0]

Been thinking about this ‘Bloodsistor’ WIP and part of the reason I’m having trouble/taking my time with it is that I’ve been shuffling around some of the character casting, and I want to be sure everyone is in the right place before I commit to writing chapters, that way I can avoid rewrites later on when I inevitably change my mind.

(Big rambly post under the cut, I’ll tag this as “#sables brain junk” so you can filter out further musing posts like this in the future)

The biggest "re-cast” I’ve been toying with lately is where to put Grant and Asher. In my original rough notes they’re Cainhurst nobles with a side-story of their own, who join the unlikely protag party on and off throughout the au’s story. I like that a lot, and I already have some art for one of them (which could likely be reused for the re-cast) but, I have to consider: what if they were Gehrman and Maria/the Doll, respectively?

I’ve puzzled over this for a bit and while yes, it does fit in a way, I think I’ve decided against it for a number of reasons. Mainly I’m posting this to record my logic as I work it out so I can refer back to it later.

Pros of the recast:

1) Asher gets to be Lady Maria, a consummate badass and fandom favourite. Unfortunately that in itself is kind of a limited boon.

2) This makes for a canon relationship (of sorts) for this pair across both pieces of media. 

3) It contextualizes Royce’s relationship with Grant better; Royce being a seasoned Hunter and having been to the Dream many times already, he’d be acquainted with the master of the Dream. This also makes the end encounter more emotional, which I do like.

Unfortunately there are a lot of cons, too:

1) While I can probably recycle Asher in Cainhurst gear for his Clocktower appearance, I can’t for the life of me figure out how to draw Asher in place of the Doll. I have no issue with crossdressing (more the power to you, tbh) but I just don’t think the outfit fits and I have no idea how to alter it.

2) Gehrman’s affections for Maria are pretty explicitly unrequited, and pretty unhealthy, even given a generous reading. Some people in the Transistor fandom already have an issue with the canon age gap, I don’t need to add Gehman’s weird obsession on top of that existing friction.

3) Doll Asher is going to be boring to write. I can feel it. He already runs the risk of being a non-entity in some of my existing pieces because, as far as his peers in the Camerata go, he’s pretty normal. Asher with even less conveyable personality would just be a chore to work into scenes; for whatever reason I don’t find the same mild humour as I do with the Doll as she is.

4) I’m not comfortable drawing a parallel between Gehrman and Grant in general. Gehrman is a creepy old dude who crushes on younger women. Grant is a distinguished politician with a bad temper. I can’t find a clean way to twist one or the other in a direction I like, and as 3 above, Asher doesn’t fit the role of the Doll as nicely even if I could fix one half of the recast. 

5) This puts a Transistor character in the place of one of the most significant Bloodborne-canon figures which, while not a con exactly, would be the only instance of this happening (none of the other Old Hunters are crossover cast, and only two actual bosses are)

6) I would have little motivation to write cool Cainhurst stuff, and would probably catch some flak from readers because of it. The area in Bloodborne is entirely optional and easy to skip, I’d like to include some content for it in my retelling. 

7) Asher is already a badass cast as a Cainhurst knight and I can write however many extra encounters I want to show that off, so I don’t really need to help him any more/limit him to one boss fight. Plus I came up with what I feel like is a cool unique ability for the two of them to have as legendarily powerful Vilebloods (hint: Asher’s cat figures into this somehow)

So there we go. I think I’m set on my original casting. If I ever get around to finishing the art for this au, I’ll probably draw some “alternate costumes” for these two but for now, they’re staying as I’ve originally conceived them. Tl;dr-Gehrman is simply too straight a man to be replaced by Grant, it wouldn’t do the latter justice.

[thesunnyshow]

Name: Alison O’Brien

Writing Blog URL(s): @httpangelicjimin

What fandom(s) do you write for?: BTS, although I wouldn’t mind writing for other groups. Often, I have other idols that make cameos in my stories.

Age: 21

Nationality: Portuguese + French

Languages: Portuguese + French + English + Spanish

Star Sign: Leo

MBTI: ENFJ

Favorite color: pastel blue

Favorite food: pizza no doubt 

Favorite movie: I’m gonna have to be a sucker and say monster’s inc. bc who doesn’t love Pixar

Favorite ice cream flavor: I’d say coffee, tho I love a good ol’ chocolate ice cream

Favorite animal: wolf, it’s my spirit animal 

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?: Coffee, for sure. Iced coffee or mocha

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): Ever since I was little I always wanted to be a singer but I guess I’m too shy for that ahah so I’d either say writing or advertising.

Go-to karaoke song: Break My Heart by Dua Lipa

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose?: The ability to change shape at will.

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose?: The Victorian Era sounds brilliant to me. I would be a sucker for the dresses. Although, I also would’ve loved to be able to live in the ’20s. Great Gatsby made me dream countless times of all the amazing parties, with jazz playing in the background. The fashion was impeccable, and of course, to be alive at the same time as F. Scott Fitzgerald. I could even run into him at one of those glamorous parties. 

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?: I don’t think I would. Life has taught me some valuable lessons along the way but I was happy. Even when surrounded by those who didn’t have the best intentions in mind. If I had known all that I know now, I wouldn’t have lived as freely and carelessly as I did. I cherish those memories, even if they weren’t the best for me.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken?: Alright so… that’s a weird one. And what makes it weirder is that people have made that same question with me; it was either one horse-sized me, or 100 me-sized horses. Huh… I do have some background with chickens chasing after me, so I’d go with the 100 chicken-sized horses.

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been?: I would 100% be the sucker that falls for the bad boy… ah… how I miss the high school bad boys.

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures?: I don’t. Although I have no problem getting lost in those amazing universes where such creatures exist. 

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know?: I absolutely love mango-flavored things but I cannot eat mango. Just the texture of the fruit…. Yuck. 

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why?: I write everything. So far, in the 2 years, I’ve been writing, I have experienced a little bit of everything. I think writing all those genres are important to complement the story. 

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc?: I never wrote anything that was mxm but I am ok with that. Besides, I have two stories out with an OC and the others are mostly with female readers, mostly because I write thinking about me with a member or one of my friends.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr?: I was already using Tumblr to read other people’s work. When the thought of starting my own writing blog came to mind, it seemed the most logical option to use. I have only recently learned about AO3 so… yeah, Tumblr seemed the most “at reach” app.

When did you post your first piece?: The first thing I wrote was called Wonder and was posted on a private blog. I started writing it a couple of days after Euphoria by Jungkook BTS came out.

What inspires you to write?: Everyday situations are always a good base for me. I like to write moments that I have gone through. Besides that, I find inspiration on movies and tv shows and some Pinterest albums. Sometimes it’s just a random thought that comes to mind ehe

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most?: I’d say college/high school aus. I did a collab with another writer from a college au and it was a lot of fun. Additionally, I have some wips I am meaning to work on and will soon be presented on my blog! 

What do you hope your readers take away from your work?: I think that I wanted them to feel okay. Life can get pretty hard and reading, for me, has always been like a getaway. So, whenever I write, I hope that I can distract my readers from whatever is happening in the real world. 

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively?: Whenever I’m struggling in life, it’s almost as if I lose my ability to write. I get really stressed, especially when I set deadlines. I try my hardest to push through. I believe that writing, even if it’s not to our liking, is better than doing nothing. I try to read more, to sleep better, and to seek inspiration. 

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful?: I don’t think I have a “most successful” work. I am pretty recent to Tumblr and am still growing bit by bit. As for my favorite, I’d probably say Dr. Love. It started out as a fun Valentine’s Day fanfic and I have some good stuff outlined.

Who is your favorite person to write about?: As I said, I love to find inspiration in my friends. Getting the feedback and how much they enjoyed reading what I wrote really is a heartwarming feeling. 

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose?: I don’t think they are so different. Because when writing fanfiction, you’re not obliged to go 100% with the idol’s personality you’re writing. You have the freedom to marvel around in the worlds you create and make them do whatever you feel like would work best. So sometimes, it can be just like creating a whole new character from scratch. 

What do you think makes a good story?: There’s a lot of things that are needed to make a good story. I mostly value the storyline. I don’t like it when things are rushed and prefer to read something others may find unnecessary but get more context. I love the small little details about characters that make me relate and emphasize with them. Also, a plot twist. I love to read stories that completely blow my mind and catch me off guard. Creativity is everything.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story?: Why not? I don’t have a problem with giving different names to my characters as long as the story stays the same.

What is your writing process like?: I prefer to write at night. But, as I said before, sometimes there’s just an urge to write and I have to grab my laptop, or even the pull out the notes on my phone and type out some words for the story I’m currently working on. I try to create a coherent storyline as well. Plus, I have an amazing beta reader that always helps me with the plot and hears my ideas and complements them. 

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand?: I love the typical “good girl falls for bad guy” trope. I don’t care if it’s cliché, I just love it. Although, I hate those where the girl is portraited as weak and as if she would ever be completely happy and fulfilled if the guy is by her side; as if she’s helpless without him. Girl power you know? Aha

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you?: It means A LOT. I think there’s no better feeling than receiving a piece of feedback, despite how small it might be. There’s always room for improvement and just the simple fact to know that someone took the time to read my work and found it interesting enough to send me their thoughts, I really cherish it.

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)?: I believe that my growth for the past months I’ve been on Tumblr could be due to how active I am. I always try to engage with the people I follow and even when I’m not posting my works, I try to be around. I have big dreams for my blog and hope to one day have a large audience to read my stories, but for now, I am happy with the ones by my side already.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged?: Yes. A lot of people think that fanfic writers are mostly horny/crazy teens that are obsessed with some famous wannabe that couldn’t even care less for their existence. I think that’s one of the biggest issues with how society sees us. But I consider those to be amongst older people (perhaps 40+yo). 

Do you think art can be a medium for change?: Of course. Art is one of the most personal ways of showing emotions, I believe. Being brave enough to show with the world your creations takes courage and I admire those who do it proudly. Art can be interpreted in so many ways; it overcomes all the barriers that there might be. 

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself?: The feeling can get to me sometimes but I immediately shut that down. There was a time when I was forcing myself to write things I didn’t appreciate or that didn’t follow my storyline just to make others happy and I had to give up on those projects quickly because it was driving me insane. I strongly believe that if we don’t write what we are passionate about, it will either come out sloppy or we will hate it. Writing what we like, even if some might consider it bad, is what we should do.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times?: I don’t think so. Although, I don’t receive as much feedback as I’d like to, so I’m not certain. 

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr?: Only my boyfriend does and he’s totally cool with it ehe

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers?: A big big thank you! I am so happy to have you here and I hope you can take some time to read over my works ehe I am always open to talk if anyone needs~ 

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there?: Just do it!!! I know there are so many great writers out there and you might feel like you would bring nothing to the game but that’s not true. You don’t need to be scared ok? It will be alright. Just give it a chance. There was a time where I was scared too and now I have made so many great friends and meet so many great people through my writing. You can make it too! 

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr?: No. 

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey?: Yess!! I have made so many friends thanks to Tumblr! I mostly have to thank the amazing people of @bangtan-headquarters for accepting me into their network and making me part of their discord server. I’m not going to be @/ing everyone but I know I have made friends whom I will forever keep in my heart uwu 

Pick a quote to end your interview with: “Life has no limitations, except the ones you make.” - Les Brown 

[anciientboosh]

WIP Wednesday

I've been battling away with a huge Boosh piece since about Nov 2019 (when I reentered the Boosh fandom after many many years away) and I’m now in the final editing process. All of booshlr has been so welcoming and sweet and supportive of content from the gifs I make to the small drabbles I’ve posted.. So I thought I'd perhaps show the little opening section of it? Might help me get over the initial fear of posting something so big in a (relatively) new fandom for the first time! Be gentle, I'm a delicate flower haha!

Show Me What I Can't See

It had been funny at first. 

Before the words really had a chance to sink in, it was so funny. 

Not just funny; side-splittingly hilarious. Vince had started with huffed giggling, hands clutching at his stomach in an effort to stave off the sound before he descended into full-blown cackles. Tears gathered in his eyes. He couldn’t breathe around his laughter. One of his hands reached for the nearest surface, an old chipped wooden table, and used it to hold himself upright. His chest was tight with the lack of oxygen but he couldn't stop. It wasn't laughing anymore, not really. Instead it was that soundless heaving people do; the kind where something is clearly so amusing you might actually die because of it. 

He looked desperately at Howard, as one does when sharing a joke with a friend. The expectation being that he would be in a similar state. That they'd both be left, barely able to stand for the humour of it all. Isn't it hilarious, Howard, what a genius joke. Instead, he found the man was regarding him with an expression of confusion and something else - something dangerously close to hurt. 

He stopped laughing at once. 

“Something funny, little man?” 

Vince stifles the response he wants to give by biting his lip so hard he tastes copper. There’s a deep impulse to scream Have you gone barking mad? Instead, he simply shakes his head because that appears to be the path of least resistance. “Nope. Nothing.” He insists, pushing himself upright again. On his feet, his legs are wobbling with the whiplash of it all. That could also be his nerves, though. "Nothing you said anyway. Just being daft." 

Howard gives a soldierly nod. “Well, consider yourself warned.” And that’s that. Palm pressed to the small of Vince's back, Howard urges him towards the door of the keeper’s hut. “Let’s go, I’m putting you on frogs.” 

For once Vince is grateful for his friend's ability to move on from a conversation. Frankly even his high tolerance for the bizarre would be tested having to decipher what just happened. Luckily his limbs move on autopilot, more than used to following Howard’s direction dumbly, and they head out into the zoo at large, business as usual. No time to dwell on the verbal rollercoaster they have just ridden together. 

He doesn’t ask why on earth Howard had felt the need to deliver such a warning on his first day working at the Zoo. “You have to promise me that you won’t fall in love with me.” Really. What the hell was he supposed to make of that, other than for it to be a joke?

Even then it was a bit of a weird joke. 

Well. That was just Howard all over, really. Weird. The man attempts logic and the end result is still utter nonsense. That’s partly why Vince likes him in the first place.  

Howard’s logic had led him to leave school at sixteen to pursue his ‘dream’ of becoming a zookeeper (alongside becoming a jazz musician, poet, actor, or a novelist… Howard had a lot of dreams). That very same brand of Moon reasoning was why three short years later, here he was, also sixteen and also abandoning school before his exams were finished. GCSE’s weren’t important, Howard had told him. 

Which was fine, in Vince’s opinion. All the great frontmen worked with animals and school certainly wasn’t helping him on his journey to stardom. All the other students had looked at him as if he were insane when he’d announced the news. They weren’t wrong, but it was a brilliant kind of insanity that only he and Howard were capable of appreciating.  

On the upside, he’d be earning his own money and hanging out with his best mate all day. Plus his foster parents were quite pleased with him for demonstrating his independence, or something to that effect. He hadn’t listened much past the initial gushing praise. 

And on the downside, apparently Howard thinks it puts him at risk of suddenly falling for his best friend? 

Weird. 

Though, it wasn’t completely off brand for Howard; making outrageous claims that is. He’d throw around statements with enough sincerity that Vince just couldn’t find it in himself to doubt their truthfulness. After all, Howard was the smart one in this duo - no one was disputing that. His peppering of ‘facts’ into their everyday conversation had oft shaped how a young Vince viewed the world. Whether they were correct or not did not factor into it.  

It means he isn’t entirely sure if he’s supposed to take this warning seriously or if it was just another one of those wacky things that Howard said (and believed) but the rest of the population found odd. 

“You have to promise me that you won’t fall in love with me.” 

Promise easily kept. 

Howard was so far from his type. The opposite end of the spectrum to his type. 

Which brings him back to his initial conclusion; it was just a bit of a shit joke from his socially dense friend. His best friend. 

More than anything, Vince expected it was probably a way to lighten the mood a little. An attempt at easing the gentle trembling that’s wracking Vince’s thin frame. While he wouldn’t openly admit being nervous, Howard has more than likely noticed and was trying to help. That’s all it was. 

No way is he ever gonna fall in love with that tall northern jazz freak.

[tracle0]

Hi it’s been a hot second since I did a wip4 ramble so I guess it’s time for a wip4 ramble

I want to make a pre-ramble (or start of the ramble) note that I have been thinking about this damn. This damn wip in all my spare hours. Oh you need to write a CV? Nuh-uh, think about wip4. Wanna have a bath? wip4. Wanna go to sleep? wip4. 

Despite all this thinking, I still have no title. Soz.

I do, however, have a bad analogy for you! Concerning powers ‘nd stuff

See fun fact about me, I’m not exactly fantastic at world building. I think of a specific idea, I build up a world around that idea so it works and then try and answer as many questions as I can think of about it, but it’s still like.... like... 

Like this! Big voids around what has been built up!!! Push too hard, you fall out of the world. Weeeeeeeee

However I do like building up logic behind powers, because I’ve mostly kept the world the same, I just need to know exactly what I’m talking about in regards to the things I have added. 

So! Bad analogy time! Regarding the limits of abilities, which I think I kinda talked about here and if not there then the other possible posts are linked there, idk enjoy exploring. 

Spoiler alert: the limits of abilities? Varies, and there are lots of sinks.

You know the question ‘how long is a piece of string?’ how the answer is ‘depends on how long you cut it’? Same deal applies with the whole ‘how far can abilities go?’ - it really, really depends. 

Assume abilities and their limits function like this here sink, apples not included. Some sinks are bigger than others, that’s just the luck of the draw. In this case, we’re looking at overflowing the sink in regards to using up abilities.

Turn the tap on - that’s you using your ability! Clever noodle! But if you don’t turn it off, then your sink overflows! You noodle!!!

Luckily for us, and for sinks, we have these overflowing holes to stop you from flooding the house!

For us, these are mostly painless - you’re losing water, but you’ll survive, just turn the tap off. For people in wip4 who overflow? It hurts. That’s when the universe starts to take back from you. If you go too far, and the overflow hole no longer works, you start to flood the house - or you just get entirely dissolved. 

That’s how abiliites work here, lads. Unlimited supply, but your dumbass body can only store so much at once. The plug stays in until you go to sleep, then it drains the water/power buildup from the day and starts anew. 

Some days are different to others, as well - you tend to keep the same sink/limit, but some days, it’s windy and the water ripples and splashes around so you need to be careful about how close to the overflow hole you go. 

Now that’s pretty handy, so let’s prod this anlogy a bit and hope we don’t fall into the void - in wip4, a pretty key thing that happens is Abby trying to push things past their limits and taking abilities from one body, puttingit in another and seeing how that works. 

In this case, the plug is open and the tap is out of your control.

(There are so many pictures of taps and sinks and I am very happy about this).

Once your ability has been yoinked, the unlimited limit of water you once had? Very limited now. Limited to what your body can hold in a day before touching the overflow hole. 

Now the other person who has your ability (it’s Percival, Percival is the only guy who does this I’m just gonna name drop him okay) has control over the tap. Every time they turn it on, the finite store of water you have is used up, and a little, little bit of you is taken away. 

There goes a nail. 

A finger joint. 

A hand. 

Once the limit is used up, you’re gone. If you’re lucky, this will happen after you’ve died, because fuck me sideways, it is painful. 

There’s also the final little loophole/thing I need to address of what happens in the even that you’ve been disintergrated and then put back together, which again, I will name drop, only happens to Keaton. 

In his case, he overused his own ability, so I’ll talk about that specifically, then maybe come up with analogies to add to the end of this for other disintergration possibilities. 

There’s a dramatic overflowing sink, seems to be also spilling from the kettle, fair fair. 

So, he overflowed, got taken apart, then put back together. Sink emptied, start a new day. Except, in this analogy, the overflow hole? No longer exists. It’s been plugged up, so in theory, it’s easier to overflow and hurt himself wtihout any warning. 

Except, in this anaogy, overflowing doesn’t matter as much. The room is already flodded, and you’ve gotten used to it. You’re no longer taken apart for overflowing the sink, the real danger comes with flooding the other rooms. But hey, every morning, any extra water you added to the flood is gone, with only the little bit you had when you first flooded the room being there. 

It’s not impossible to flood the other rooms. If you had your tap on all day, you would probably have issues. But it’s a lot harder than it once was. 

Nice job, kid! Your prize for dying and then not dying is more use of your ability. Enjoy!

I really hope that made sense because in my head it makes perfect sense but that might just be my dumbass brain. 

In other wip4 news, I’m trying to think of what kind of dumb puns and jokes and stereotypes are assosiated with different abilities. Silvertongues aren’t trusted, that’s one I have down definitely. Also some kind of joke about empaths and therapy. 

Have a good day and thanks for reading this far I think

[hunnybadgerv]

Writer Ask Meme 3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? 10. Pick an author (or writing friend) to co-write a book with 12. Which story (or: stories) of yours do you like best? why? 17. What things (scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing? 29. Is writing more of a hobby or do you write with the intention of getting published? 36. Post a snippet 49. Favorite fictional world?

Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing: 30 Questions for Authors

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing?  Getting started. Once I’m writing, I can usually find the zone. But it’s getting started that is always the hardest for me. Like this morning, I didn’t know where to even start. So, I opted to edit, since it is something I wanted to accomplish this week. And I know that in the revision process I also tend to refine my prose, i.e., write, so my editing and writing work today coincided. 

I have, however, written every day this month and I’m hoping to continue that trend. But regardless of the time of day, getting started tends to be my biggest obstacle overall. 

10. Pick an author (or writing friend) to co-write a book with. Must it only be one? Gosh. 

There are so many great writers I know, more than I could ever even try to consider for this.  

I’ve always admired @theoriginalladya for the uniqueness of her ideas and character development are second to none; I equally love and hate when she and I talk about her characters because I get super excited about them because of how amazing they are. Then I quickly become obsessed, which may or may not be the only “bad” thing. @painterofhorizons has angst super powers; even in a snippet of text she can rip your soul clean from your body. Her writing is so evocative and emotionally striking. Then there is @chyrstis, whose ability to seamlessly weave humor into her fics sparks more than envy. She manages to put characters into such believable, yet laughable situations that it only serves to endear them to readers. 

I’m not sure I could ever co-write a piece, but I would count myself lucky to write with any of the writers I regularly associate with, especially one of these three. Apologies to all the amazing writers I know who I did not mention by name, but I already didn’t follow the question in the first place by mentioning three rather than a single one. 

12. Which story (or: stories) of yours do you like best? why?  Oh gosh. This is so cruel. One story! Really? That’s all. Honestly, First Watch of the Night (Guardians in the Darkness Series) is one of my favorite. I think that might be in part because of nostalgia--it is Nyx Shepard’s WIP. I actually have it planned all the way through ME3, though I’ve currently stalled in the revision process in the ME1 timeline. I’m not sure why either. 

I find myself wondering if the reason I have not finished it is because once I know what happens, maybe I won’t have the drive to finish writing it. Maybe I can’t get past the block because I’m worried that finishing their story will vacate those muses from my mind, which I kind of don’t want. I really have grown quite attached to Nyx, Kaidan, and her crew. 

Honestly, I think that might be the struggle I end up in with all my longer fics. Short fics in collection are so much easier because the story never has to end. A long fic follows a certain line and has a definite conclusion, which I think worries me.

17. What things (scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing?  Umm, If you were to look at characters like Tayen Quick, Nyx and Feign Shepard, Furia, Remy McGinnis, Mari Ryder, Cyna Mahariel, and Laerke, you’d see a common thread connecting them. I tend enjoy writing strong female characters, especially those that are flawed or broken in some way. Honestly, Nyx and Furia, also to some extent Leah Rook, all share imposter syndrome to one degree or another--so does Mari. I always tend to have one or two characters that share a flaw. I have Mari, Laerke, and Furia who have all lost their entire families. Characters that come from big families. But I tend to write female protagonists more so than males. 

29. Is writing more of a hobby or do you write with the intention of getting published?  I published a short story in college. And I really would like to be published some day. Right now, I am mostly writing for me. I’ve got original fiction ideas, but I don’t work on them currently. I focus on my fandom work in order to practice and hone the skills and plans I have for future pieces.

I want to write something in the mix of fantasy/sci-fi. But I also have a strong sense of realism. I still hold tight to Mark Twain’s statement that the difference between real life and fiction is that fiction has to make sense. Things have to stem logically from one another in a story, and I always try to ground my writing in experience--sights, smells, sounds, textures that my readers can be familiar with--in order to add some sense of connection. I try to make my characters flawed in ways that feel accurate to them. 

A part of me screams in the back of my head that I am a writer. I can be an author, but a part of me worries that perhaps it may not happen. I keep writing. And I keep trying new things. I’ll always be a storyteller. I will keep writing and falling in love with fictional beings and places that I cannot resist exploring.

36. Post a snippet  This is from First Watch of the Night. I really love the characters and depth I managed to capture in this piece. Honestly, it’s one of the pieces of my own writing that intimidates me ... a lot. I don’t write the same way anymore. I feel like my writing lacks the same emotional depth right now. And I’m not sure why. It might have to do with how disconnected from other humans I have been in the last decade.

The scene here is Nyx Shepard and her father from Chapter 18:

The two Shepards watched one another for a long moment, before Taranis returned his attention to one of the soft cherries. The commander sighed, sipping her tea quietly while the captain waited. It was his usual tactic. He knew there was more and he could always wait her out. Nyx would talk to him in her own time, even if it had to be in carefully crafted abstractions. His daughter knew the drill. Taranis' methods were nothing new to her. He would take long pauses, allowing her to consider all the things she was not telling him. Then he would ask careful questions in case it was actually related to her current or a classified assignment--since need to know could interfere with her desire to disclose and his fatherly curiosity.

Whatever it was, Nyx held onto it much longer than usual, which told him she really did not want to bring it up. Despite this, Taranis knew she would relent because she kept glancing over at him with a look that suggested she was merely trying to find the way to bring it up. Nyx always came first for him; he redirected his career to give her the life she had, a life where there was always one parent there to hold her tight when things weren't just so. He knew it was not perfect, but he did everything he could to be there for her.

Nyx sighed as she set the tea cup on the table between them. "Fine," she breathed heavily.

It took another few moments for her to look up at him. Then she scooted a little closer, lowering her voice in discretion. Watching her carefully Taranis could not quite be sure what she was going to say, but she bit her lip and winced a little when she finally asked a question he never expected to hear.

"What did you do when you met Mom?"

Everything froze for a second or two as he stared at her. The little blush on her cheeks threw her father for a loop, but made him smile. "Well, damn."

The commander shook her head at him, trying to discourage him from thinking too hard about what she had just asked.

"Answer the question, please."

Captain Taranis Shepard rubbed his hand through the short stubble on the back of his head as he stared at his daughter in stunned silence. "I avoided her. Tried to just keep my distance. I even put in for a transfer," he admitted with a wry smile. "It got denied because I did not put in what command thought was a valid reason. Then, on leave, I talked to your Grandpa Shepard about it."

Nyx smiled and laughed. "And what did the old devil dog have to say about that?"

Her voice held a note of disbelief that her father was not surprised to hear. Taranis' father was a stickler for rules, regulations, expectations. He was strict and set high expectations. The captain could tell by the way his daughter eyed the dregs in her tea cup that she was as completely unprepared for what her father was about to say as Taranis had been when he heard it.

"He told me it was not a weakness to want someone to be part of your life."

Nyx's eyes darted to his. She was easily as shocked as he had been. Moving the tea cup, Taranis laid her hand out in his and covered it with the other.

"I told him all the things, I'm pretty sure you're telling yourself right now. All the excuses about regs, concerns, and bad experiences and stories you've heard," Taranis said quietly as he stroked the back of her hand lightly.

She leaned toward him. Her voice was tight with emotion. "And?"

Holding her hand tightly, her father smiled at her softly. "He told me that there are some things that outweigh the regs."

They were both quiet for a moment as Nyx let herself fall back in the chair. Her mind was clearly racing. Kirk Shepard had always stern, at best; he still was totally by the book in everything except when he met his wife. That was the only rule Taranis could think of his father ever even bending, let alone breaking out right. Nyx had been very close with both her grandfathers; she respected them as men and as marines. For her they were role models, people she that influenced her greatly.

"I'm going to tell you something you probably don't know. My parents met in the service, too. We Shepards seem to fall for our brethren," he said playfully. Nyx did not look relieved in the slightest. "He almost lost her on a mission. Even in love, your grandfather was still the same man. He couldn't justify risking the primary objective. The mission at all costs, you know?"

Taranis knew she understood it. Hell, he knew she lived that decree just as solidly as his father.

"She made it out alive, barely. Your grandfather, sentimental bastard, proposed to her when she woke up from surgery. Grandma Amelie was just as stoic as he was. Told him she would consider it, but only if he promised to do always put the mission first, even if she was in his command. She believed him when he said he would. Even lived up to it. Had to put her at risk once more in the field before they got married."

"And he told you this when you asked him about Mom?"

"Yep," Taranis said, nodding as he studied his daughter's reaction. "I was rather hoping I wouldn't have to tell it to you, but I guess it was too much to hope you'd break the trend of falling for servicemen."

She shrugged and looked at their hands for a long moment. "Seemed to be going well for a while," Nyx said quietly.

"Just tell me it's not the Zingel kid."

Her laugh made him smile, and brightened her eyes. "No, it's not Caz."

Taranis leaned back in his chair, fidgeting with his uniform for a moment. "So, tell me something about this fella."

The way she tilted her head at him suggested that the question might have been her maximum.

"At least tell me his name so I can start checking up and get a little peace."

"Da."

"Fine." Taranis let his hands fall on the arms of his chair. "Don't relieve your old father of the undue stress he is now placed under worrying about what kind of man his plucking his daughter's heart strings."

"Seriously?" she replied with a doubtful look.

They both knew she did not see herself as the type of woman who was plucked, but Taranis had a long and vivid memory and he could still recall the girl with the romantic sensibilities.

"What? I remember the shelves of Austen, Gaskell, and the Brontes. Then there were the sonnets your grandmother always sent you. And if I recall you were planning on marrying Captain Wentworth." He tilted his head at her slightly. "Perhaps I should have seen this coming after all."

They both laughed. Then Nyx sprang forward and hugged her father around the neck. "I've missed you, Da."

"I love you, Nyxy-girl."

Her lips were warm on his cheek. "Love you, too," she repeated before she stood. "I should probably go."

"We should do this again," her father offered, as he stood and proffered his arm. "Soon."

His daughter smiled and looked away for a moment. "Sure. As soon as I can."

Once they exited the little shop, they stopped and he touched her cheek before he bent and kissed her forehead again. He did not like her chosen phrase. Taranis knew she meant it, but he also knew the schedule she had kept for the past several years and there was little hope of relief given the most recent change.

"I'd prefer sooner," he noted.

It always killed him to say what he said next, the phrase was tradition, but always made his heart ache because he knew there was always a chance that he could lose his girl in the line of duty. He had been in her boots and hung them up for her. She had taken them up with fervor and so much more skill and determination than Taranis ever possessed.

"Good hunting, Commander," he said, a waver in his voice, as he saluted her sharply.

Nyx returned it as smartly as she would to an admiral. "Thank you Captain."

Taranis watched the girl with her mother's hair and his eyes weave through the crowds in the wards. He remembered meeting a boy once, at her basic graduation. Keith or Kyle or something that started with a K. He managed to stick around until a few months after her graduation from Exeter. Somehow the kid had stuck it out through three mission deployments before the relationship ended without so much as a whimper. The captain could not remember his name or much else about him. Even after a few years together, his daughter never hinted at the question she just asked. It elated and scared the hell out of him.

49. Favorite fictional world?  I really enjoy writing ME and in SWTOR. They are amazing worlds full of science, magic, adventure, and drama. Though I’m also drawn to fantasy for the same reasons. But I think futuristic worlds and space are some of my favorites.

[kaylewiswrites]

It’s Not Working: Setting Troubleshooting

Setting: the when and where, the background of your entire story, the only thing stopping all your action from taking place in an empty void (unless, you know, that is your setting). When you think about it like that, the importance of setting cannot be overstated. If you’re setting isn’t working in your WIP, let’s troubleshoot. 

Do you know your setting?

Ok, this is the big one. When you think about your setting, do you know every inch of it? Every knickknack on the shelf, every can in the doomsday shelter, every errant root ready to trip someone? If your answer is no, congratulations! That’s pretty normal. Not everyone imagines every little part, but a good measurement I use is: know more than the audience does. This stops you from over explaining your setting, but allows you to pick and choose the most telling details to show your audience. Remember, this is your world, own it! If you’ve been getting feedback telling you that readers don’t feel like they’re in this world or can’t picture it, that means you need to go back to the drawing board and make sure you can picture it. Have friends, critique partners, or random people on tumblr ask you questions on your setting to force you to come up with answers. Sketch out aerial views of certain places that come up a lot on graph paper-yes, even if you can’t draw. And if you need more help filling in the blanks, just keep reading. 

Why is that your setting? 

If your characters are regular teenagers, a contemporary high school makes sense as a setting. If your characters are not-so-regular teenagers going hunting for cryptids? You might need some more spooky night time scenes in the woods. Your setting not only needs to make sense with your plot, it should interact with it. There should be a reason each of your scenes take place in that exact location. If you’re having trouble explaining why something is happening there, take a look at what makes sense with the logic of the plot and would best convey the message you’re trying to say. 

When do you introduce it? 

For some, the scene is set literally in the first sentence. For others, it makes more sense to hold it back a bit. I talk about the pros and cons of these choices in First Page Troubleshooting. Regardless of what you choose, here’s the basics: the longer you keep your audience in the dark about the when and where of your setting, the longer they spend either unable to picture anything or picturing something wildly different than what you intended. Make sure you’re not burying establishing, grounding points for the audience in too much dialogue, action, or anything else that won’t mean as much to them because they’re too hung up on figuring out the basics. 

How is your setting described? 

One of the biggest problems writers have with their settings is that 1. they’re boring to write because 2. they come off as dry and 3. they’re convinced that all readers are going to stop reading the entire story when they hit a paragraph of description. While this is a rut that some writers (i.e. me) get stuck in, the good news is there’s options! Instead of saying “The sky was blue. The grass was green. The apple tree sat on the hill” you can instead:

Describe the setting in a short, unobtrusive way that audience will barely notice reading: “The green grass led up a hill to a low apple tree, the only place to find shade under the bright blue sky.”

Use the narrators voice (either first or third person) to make the description interesting or amusing: “Unfortunately, to Talia’s dismay, the sky was a perfect, uninterrupted blue, making the dew on the too-green grass light up like diamonds, leaving no excuse to meeting her step-mother for a picnic under the apple tree on the hill.” 

Integrate the setting with the action: “She climbed to the top of the hill, squinting into the blue sky of an early morning on the lush emerald fields, looking for any signs of her falcon.” 

Reread books you like and that are in your genre, paying close attention to the different ways authors set the scenes, and play around to find something you like best. 

What’s the tone? 

Ok, this one’s going to come with a major caveat, because playing with tones and the tropes that support them is hilarious and wonderful and I’ll never get tired of it. If you’re intentionally using tone as a way to subvert tropes, kindly ignore this and continue on with your lives, you’re doing great. 

For everyone else, your setting can be an amazing way to support your tone. Think of that age old line: “It was a dark and stormy night.” Immediately we know something spooky is going on. It’s hard to be scared in a cheery suburban backyard (hard, but possible: see above), but in a forest, surrounded by grabbing branches, diving bats, and nearly invisible spiderwebs every step of your path? Or a long abandoned house with creaking floorboards, dusty windows, and a silence so heavy you can hear your heart beat echoing off the sagging ceilings? Make sure, first, that your setting isn’t fighting the tone you’re going for, and then let it do some of your work for you. 

Too much setting?

I’m going to admit to you something I used to do all the time. At the beginning of every set change, I’d have a big long paragraph explaining the exact dimensions of every room, and what piece of furniture went against every wall, and where the door was in relation to this wall and so on and so forth and it was Not Great. It’s really easy to as writers to want to make sure our readers see exactly what we see, but here’s an important lesson I learned the hard way: readers don’t need to see the same thing as the writers. Give them just enough to form their own image out of things that are plot relevant, inform the character, or set the tone. 

I hope this helped with some of your setting needs. If you guys have any questions about setting, or have suggestions for more It’s Not Working topics, my ask box is always open. You can also explore the It’s Not Working tag to see what I’ve already covered! 

[illthdar]

Eleveneven

tagged by @silver-wields-a-pen, lover of all the best hot messes.

 Give us the elevator pitch for your wip!

For the first book in the Illthdar series: Guardians of Las

Imagine a world where every fairytale and fantasy book you read was real. Sounds pretty amazing, right? Sure, until you realise you can’t leave, and the natives look hungry, and the salad on your plate talks and it’s raining actual fire.

Meet a rag-tag group of people, thrown together by need and by fate. For some, they work to restore the balance to the world they call home; the rest just want to get the hell off of it before land that logic and reason forgot kills them. 

Do you have any favorite antagonistic characters?

It has to be Magnilla. She’s just so amazingly extra - she is every bit that RPG/D&D character that everyone feels an irresistible urge to leap across the table and do real harm to the creator.  

What do your characters do on a night off/night out?

Depending on the mood, the teams might spend the evening in the barracks, have a meal in the repurposed brewery or take a trip from the Order of Mana to the Alewifery tavern for drinks.

Does your mc have any irrational fears or phobias?

They all have their issues to work through. In terms of phobias, Seth has the most due to being traumatised when he ended up in Illthdar as a kid; Magnilla suffers arachnophobia; and Tundra has issues with pools of blood. 

Are there any books/authors you drew inspiration from for this story?

I’ve drawn inspiration from a lot of fantasy classics as well as a few that a more obscure. Pop culture in movies and games also served as sources - though these are more in the form of easter eggs and trope-mocking. Some of the cast are OCs created by others who graciously granted permission for my use, I would be remiss if I undervalued the inspiration they provided.

Who was the first character you made for this wip and how did they come to you?

The first characters made were the first team: Abaddon, Magnilla, Nyima, Scyanatha, Vyxen and Zercey - the majority of them were those aforementioned OCs not originally mine. For the character Zercey, the lore behind her was recycled from an original fairy race I minted for a roleplay I had going with one of my oldest friends.

Do you usually have a title in mind when you start the story or does it comes to you later?

I start with book title placeholder - something that reminds me of the direction or key piece I want to convey to the reader. So far, my first place holder for my WIP hasn’t been used as an official title yet and isn’t relevant until book 4. Winning.

For you, what’s the hardest part of writing?

Currently, it’s getting all the planets to align so that there is a block of time where I can work on it. I’m accepting that isn’t likely going to happen until my youngest is 6 months or older.

What’s the best part of writing?

Getting those scenes that run on repeat in my head out onto a page. It’s an all-consuming thing for me; there’s a story that needs to be told desperately and it’s very hard to shut my brain off at night without putting time towards it.

How would your characters feel about you if they met you in person?

LOL They would straight up murder my ass with no apologies. No one stuck in that book likes how they’re living.

What helps you recharge your writing batteries when you’re running low?

Besides the obvious (see: sleep), listening to music or drawing helps. If I’m feeling stuck, I try writing the scene from a different POV, or I try pivoting to a different scene completely and work on that for a bit to clear the air some. 

Questions: same as above

Tagging: @bigmoodword, @radley-writes, @raevenlywrites, @dangerouslyspicynacho, @elizabethsyson, @floralandrogyny