#cannot think of a more open market than writing fanfic

[heywriters]

Once again, you can be an English major. a seasoned journalist. an established author. a famed literary critic...and you will still scratch your head over the junk that makes it big. Public opinion has no worth. Just write what you want.

"But I don't want to share something that isn't perfect" why not? everyone else does.

[thatwouldbee-enough]

😅🎢🎶🛠⛔🌞❌💲🧐🎃🦅👀🤗💞🤲😬⌛ anyfandom!

Ahhhh thank you so much for this! Sorry it took a while there were so many to answer <3

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

Anything from the very very early days of my AO3 account lol. They weren't bad but there's definitely so many things when I go back and read them where I would write things a lot differently now

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Oh man. Interpreting wildest ride in two different ways here.

1 (craziest/most disturbing): Let Me Crawl Up Into Your Mind

2 (wild ride plot-wise): Fate and the Fall

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Yes!!! Some songs from recent writing playlists:

this is me trying by Taylor Swift

The Cause by Tommy Lefroy

Paul Revere by Noah Kahan

reckless driving by Lizzy McAlpine

Letter to an Old Poet by boygenius

Partners in Crime by FINNEAS

tolerate it by Taylor Swift

Colorado by Renee Rapp

You Could Start a Cult by Niall Horan w/Lizzy McAlpine

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

So many 😬

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Honestly either early in the morning right after I wake up or middle of the night lmao. Middle of the night has given me some of my best writing for real but at what cost

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

I don't like to say never on any tropes because I think with the right idea any trope can be done well. Some things that I tend to stay away from are heavy mental health fix it style stories because 1) I don't feel qualified enough to write that well and 2) I don't find them super interesting usually. Exploring darker storylines is always more fun for me, or mayyyybe the occasional fluffy romance lol

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

For fanfiction based on someone else's intellectual property, no, because there are legal issues there. For writing in general maybe, but I don't see a huge market for that

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Way too much time

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

Occasionally! Maybe Sleigh Bells Ring for a favorite. Most of the holiday pieces I've written have been very fluffy lol

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

It's a mix. Usually seat of my pants, but if I have a lot of details worked out in my brain already then I'll outline

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I have a TBOSAS piece that I'm working on where Coriolanus's punishment after cheating in the Games is to be sold as a sex worker (similar to how Finnick was in THG series) rather than being forced to enlist with the peacekeepers and he ends up with Strabo Plinth as a client.......

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I cannot recommend enough just... doing it. Everyone worries so much about it not being good enough, but just like every other skill, you'll never get better without practice and just doing the damn thing over and over again.

Also read a lot. Read fanfic and actual books. You pick up a lot of things as a writer when you're reading other people's work. Sometimes you'll see certain ways of writing dialogue or inner monologues that you love and want to incorporate into your own writing. Sometimes you'll see things that pull you out of the story or don't flow well, and you'll learn that it's something you don't want to include in your writing. All of it is useful.

And MOST importantly, please please please learn how to properly format your dialogue 😭 (this is just a pet peeve of mine, but SO MANY fics don't have proper dialogue formatting)

ex: "This is the correct way to format a spoken sentence," she said sternly. "When you write a spoken sentence followed by a dialogue tag, the dialogue tag is PART of the sentence, so you should end the 'spoken sentence' with a comma, and then add the dialogue tag (starting with a lower case letter if it's not a proper noun), and then the sentence ends."

"This is correct too!" she exclaimed.

"This is also correct," she explained, "because the dialogue sentence hasn't ended, it was just interrupted. When dialogue is interrupted, but the sentence hasn't ended, the dialogue tag is surrounded by commas, indicating a whole, ongoing sentence."

INCORRECT EXAMPLES:

"This is not the correct way to format a spoken sentence." She said, crying a little bit on the inside.

"Neither is this!" She exclaimed.

"And neither is this." she sighed, rubbing at her temples as intentionally writing dialogue incorrectly began to trigger a headache.

💞 Who's your comfort character?

For Hamilton/Amrev, it's probably Hamilton. Sorry, basic bitch answer.

For TBOSAS it's Sejanus <3

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

A snippet from the TBOSAS AU with Coriolanus and Strabo Plinth that I mentioned above 🙈

But fighting? Fleeing? He thought back to the arena. The way his heart had pounded as he smashed at Bobbin until he laid unmoving on the ground.  He refused to let that sort of response control him again. He was better than base instincts. Especially here. This wasn’t life or death. All he had to do was play things smart, and he would come out on top again eventually.  And then everyone who ever tried to make him feel small would pay. 

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

Literally any of the smut lmfao.

But specifically the Henry Laurens/Alexander Hamilton fucked up intern AU, Let Me Crawl Up Into Your Mind, and A Royal Affair are probably all up there for top contenders

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Highly dependent on a lot of different variables (what I'm writing/whether it requires research/what else is going on in my life/level of motivation and focus/etc). Anywhere from a couple of hours to a month lmao

[nias-nook]

Hey I stumbled on a few MF fics of yours some times, I didn't know you took requests!

May I ask what type of requests you take/don't take (apart of morally unacceptable ones, that is)? What are your thoughts on x readers? Do you do pairings/ships? If so, which ones? What tropes do you like writing the most and the least? How much do you follow and ignore of the official canon? Do you have any favorite characters or any that you are more close to? Which? And lastly, for the sake of taking that out of the way, how do you feel about NSFW?

I'm sorry if those are too many questions and you are completely free to not reply to any/all of them. I'm just curious to know more of the fanfic writers of the fandom (especially the ones who do asks, these deserve to be seen a lot)

Hello! Thanks so much for sending an ask in; I'll try and answer these as comprehensively as possible and hope the read more feature works because this is going to be long!

In terms of what I will write, I'm pretty flexible! Angst, fluff, romance, I like to keep my options open tonally!

I've never written x readers and I can't say I have a huge interest in doing so in the future. Respect to people who do, though! There's clearly a huge market for it and I do have a level of nostalgia for that kind of contnet.

When it comes to Metal Family, my taste in ships is incredibly milquetoast. I'm a huge Glam/Vicky and Glam/Ches enjoyer! I also like Dee/Lif in an 'aww, these kids are so lame, they deserve each other' way.

Oooh, tropes! Well, if my works are anything to go by, I'm a sucker for flashbacks (do they count as a trope? I'm gonna say yes). Mutual pining is super fun, and I generally love writing anything with a lot of banter. On the flip side, I'm not a big fan of slow burn or enemies to lovers. I don't tend to think in 'tropes', I guess! Everything can be pulled off amazingly or failed miserably, so I try not to judge a story based on what tropes may be present.

I adhere to canon pretty strictly where I can. I know a lot of people like to mold characters for their stories and put them in extreme scenarios, but I prefer to work with what's already established! Which is pretty tough with an ongoing show like MF, where anything I've written could be contradicted by a later episode at any given time. The official comic says the Freaks' original recording space was in Lordi's house and not Bob's like I mentioned in my fic, Gettin' The Band Together!, and it tears me up inside.

My favourite character is, to no one's surprise, Glam! I've written several fics about him already and I don't plan on stopping any time soon. I'd say he's my main favourite to write, but characters like Lydia and Ches really surprised me with how much I ended up loving writing them.

As for NSFW? I can't say I have any plans to dip my toe into that kind of thing at the moment; I CANNOT imagine being any good at writing it and frankly I don't have a whole lot of interest. I'll leave that kind of content to the pros.

Okay, this is probably WAY more thorough than you wanted, I kinda underestimated how much I was going to ramble. But I hope this is the kind of answer you were looking for! I actually had a LOT of fun answering these, I'd love more questions like these in the future!

[sweeethinny]

Golden Dress

inspired by @startanewdream fanfic - here -, which after reading me made me think about writing about Hinny in the future, and Ginny wearing a gold dress again.

for those who want to see what the dress looks like: here but golden ofc

in fact, this fanfic is for those who think that just because Ginny is a badass, she cannot like the "feminine" world, don't be so radical, people are complex and one thing does not cancel out the other

'Stupid dress,' Ginny mumbled, snorting irritably and giving up zipping the back of her dress, looking in the mirror at her husband who was lying on the bed, arms behind his head and feet crossed. 'Babe?' She said, sly, winking at him in the reflection, a lovely smile on her dark red lips.

'If it weren't for me, you would go to every party with your butt off,' Harry said, getting up from the bed and walking over to her, dressed in her beautiful gold satin dress, long and light, making her look magnificent. The thin straps looked too delicate and he thought that maybe the fabric could tear in one simple step, and that neckline that the fabric created in the front with the accumulation of fabric, would fall and show her beautiful breasts.

The zipper went down to the top of her white panties, her bare back seemed to call Harry again, and if he closed his eyes he could still feel the softness of the skin against his lips as he went down and down, memorizing, or trying, every freckle which disappeared tantalizingly down to her round ass.

'You look beautiful wearing gold,' Harry whispered against her skin, smelling Ginny's sweet and unique scent, the same that had always been in his Amortentia. He let his hands roam over her skin, inside her dress, calmly reaching for Ginny's hips and squeezing. His eyes never leaving hers in the mirror, she looked even more radiant, her cheeks flushed and made up, shining through that shiny powder she wore, her brown eyes made up and looking even more mesmerizing.

'And you are tempting in that suit, I promise you that we will enjoy it much later, but now,’ She pushed her ass against his groin, pushing him away. 'Close my dress or we'll be late, and George may not appear to be nervous, but I think he might be able to die if we're a minute late.' Ginny smiled. 'You are much more daring than when I asked you to close my dress years ago.'

'I learned from the best.' He shrugged, surrendering and closing the dress, noticing the lack of a bra, and needing to close his eyes for a few more seconds just to not rip off that dress and have sex with Ginny until the dawn day. 'Did you choose the gold dress just because of that? To remember the first wedding when you made me hard as an idiot, asking me to close your dress?’

'No, George and Angelina chose the color. My brothers are strangely obsessed with gold.' Ginny sat down again in the cushioned chair in front of her dressing table, opening the jewelry drawer and seeming to be looking for something. 'Do you think these earrings match?' She held up a delicate pearl that she had bought on their trip to Spain, turning her face gently and assessing the earring. Harry nodded, leaning against the side, feeling a little obsessed with her.

'You look beautiful with anything,' Harry sighed, as if he was tired of explaining the obvious to her. 'I remembered that night almost every night afterwards.'

'What night?' Ginny looked at him quickly, a clip pinned between her lips, adjusting the lock of hair that had gone out of place for her perfect hairstyle.

'Bill's wedding. I remembered you wearing that dress, the cleavage, everything, for many nights,' he admitted shamelessly, picking up her hair comb before she even asked. It was not the first time that Harry had watched Ginny get dressed, he didn't even care when they were late, almost every event that required a more elegant outfit, Harry was not excited to go. But standing there, seeing how she was concentrating while choosing the color of the shadows, or how she made her cheeks look adorably pink and shiny, made him want to go.

He had never said it out loud, and Harry was afraid he would look a little sexist, or Caveman, but he loved being the guy who was next to her when she was like this. Harry loved being the guy who was always next to her, when Ginny was wearing his clothes as pajamas, when she wore Harpies uniform, dressed in pants and sweaters, or expensive and elegant dresses.

Harry thought it was the most beautiful thing when Ginny sat on the chair at her dressing table to get ready. He thought it was almost as if she made a child’s dream come true, to have things that only belonged to her, to be able to choose what type of earring, necklace or ring she would wear that day, whether or not it matched the diamond on their wedding ring, if the lipstick didn't look out of place with the clothes. He had noticed how little by little Ginny had seemed to break the walls that seemed to prevent her from being that happy and excited girl because she had bought a dress or some beauty product.

He still remembered when they moved into their house, and Ginny's eyes sparkled with tears when she saw the dressing table there, as she had asked, with lights, a big mirror, a comfortable chair, drawers for everything she wanted buy or already had, and a good space to be able to decorate as she wish on the top.

Harry blamed the fact that Ginny was forced to mature quickly and create armor strong enough to survive after Tom, who prevented her from letting that more feminine side emerge.

After they got married and went to live on the same street as there was a cosmetics store, however, Harry noticed how Ginny looked into the store, her eyes big and shining. It was like a childish need, and Harry remembered how happy and complete he felt when he went to the market and bought everything he wanted to eat.

He understood how Ginny felt. It was as if it were going to fill the material void that was once created.

Harry never made jokes or even laughed at them when he saw them in the newspaper, saying that ‘’now that she was married, Ginny had decided to drop her tomboy pose and become a stylish housewife to satisfy Harry.’’ He thought it was disgusting.

‘You’re not going to stop being you, if you wear makeup, or wear expensive clothes, you know that, don’t you?’ He said, after seeing that she looked sad, sitting on the couch and looking at a fashion magazine. 'You look beautiful wearing green.' Harry smiled, looking at the green wool suit.

'But maybe the earrings you gave me will be better.' Ginny woke him from his reverie, her hair neat and the pearl earrings put in place again. 'What do you think?' She looked at him and then the mirror, they were delicate and small rings of braided gold. ‘Too golden?’

'I thought it was perfect.' Harry smiled like a fool in love.

'Excellent. Wake up James, okay? I'll be ready in a minute.’

'If we had been looking for peace, he would have woken up a long time ago.' He grunted, listening to Ginny laughing.

'Wait until night, he'll smell that his parents want to spend some time alone, and he'll crawl into our bed.' Ginny laughed, watching her husband laugh too, giving up and going to wake up their son who seemed to have the same timer as Ron, to know when a couple was kissing.

'And yet I can't love him any less.' Harry sighed, kissing the top of Ginny's head before walking away to leave the room.

'I feel like today is going to be different,' Ginny promised, holding Harry's hand and making him look at her. ‘And maybe we can do everything you wanted to do when you saw me in the gold dress for the first time?’

'I didn't know as much as I do today,' Harry pointed out, smiling at her. 'But it would be great. And at this wedding, I don’t even need to be in a Weasley’s body, which also helps a lot.’

She nodded. 'Thanks to Merlin, there are already many Weasley in the world.'

Harry laughed, leaving the room and walking over to James, who was still sleeping the same way he was when Harry put him to bed, hugging the bear Percy had given him, covered by his favorite blanket, looking like he didn't even care that there was a wedding about to happen, and wearing that mini suit that was the most adorable thing.

Smiling and watching his son sleep, Harry was happy, now he and Ginny knew how good it was when things were so simple.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Your writing is so amazing. I love how deeply you can write out these character's emotions and put so much feeling into the dialouge. 10/10. But, if you don't mind recommendations, I think establishing setting and character placement can be improved. Love your writing, keep it up!! :)

Hi friend! I appreciate your kind words. Unfortunately, I'm not sure I understand your criticisms. The difficult thing about feedback delivered this way is that it's sort of required to be vague, and as such, it is pretty unhelpful. Based on my understanding of it, I'll explain why I don't write the way I think you want me to.

I don't write settings for two primary reasons: (1) I simply do not like it and (2) I write Reader inserts.

As to the first point, I struggle with a mild form of Aphantasia (read more here), which means I cannot picture things in my head the way many other people can. I don't write settings because I don't see them, and it takes hours of extra work for me to do so. That being said, I do it in my original writing (using a lot of references, most of which can be found at @things-ill-never-write).

For this same reason, I skip entire paragraphs to pages of writing when I'm reading because I find it completely pointless, since I will not be able to picture it. Even when I tried as a kid, I became very frustrated that it didn't match what I imagined the background to be.

My fanfiction specifically is written because I want to read it (as opposed to my original work, which I write in part to be marketed). If I wrote the setting out, I would simply skip it when reading. So, in short, I don't write setting because it would add hours of extra work for me for literally zero benefit to myself 😅

Finally, this is just a style of writing. I don't write like Tolkien, and I have absolutely no desire to do so.

As to the second point, I don't write settings in many situations because I do not want to alienate Readers. It's a common thing in Reader inserts for authors to describe things in excess - which is not a good thing in my opinion. Too often you have to make design decisions that would break the immersion for people who like to self-insert. They would be forced to think things like "I wouldn't put that there/why is that there/that's not my style/that's not what my place looks like."

Same thing for larger settings, like universities, cafes, restaurants, parks, etc. I want people to be able to imagine wherever they are. Since that's incredibly challenging to do if I opt for describing things literally, I try to shift to metaphorical description or the emotional impact of the scenery on the characters.

So, again, it is very different in my fanfiction than it is in my original work. This was very long, but I wanted to explain that I'm not ignoring your input, and it would certainly be true for an OC/character ship/original work, but it is simply too hard to do for something that's intended to be low stress, self-indulgent fun.

I'm assuming that the second criticism (character placement) is also tied into that ^, but it could also mean that I explain their placement in relation to each other too much (which is what I feel about my own work). It could mean I don't do it often enough? I should do it a different way? I really don't know 😅 I'm only familiar with it from a directing standpoint, which is very hard to translate into written work without excessive description.

In the future, it's probably easier and more helpful to simply offer criticism when in an open dialogue with the writer. I am very open to feedback generally (I have several beta readers for this purpose), but to many fanfic writers, unsolicited criticism is considered rude (more here), since we are generally writing for fun, and spending very little time and effort on it compared to other, original work. Which, makes sense. It is being provided for free.

Not to mention it's confusing and sort of stressful when we can't understand what's being criticized. It's also difficult for some people to accept suggestions because there is no frame of reference for whether we would like your style of writing/preferred reading.

We each enjoy different things, and I think that finding a writer that perfectly hits all of them would be a rare and stunning thing, indeed.

We're all different, and isn't that just wonderful 🥰

[earendilslight]

Soooo, I've been simping Thresh since 2014 and now I finally can be open about my love for him because of the cinematic, and since I'm about to apply for the C1 Cambridge certification and I'm in desperate need to practice my writing, it's a perfect time to write fanfics with Thresh 💖

It's just a very little text, maybe, if it gets enough love I'll turn it into an actual fanfiction. But in the mean time, enjoy!

Also, if you happen to notice any mistake let me know!

------—------------------------------------------

He came out of the shadows, where the dim light could reveal his features. It was a tall man, with long dark hair, dressed all in black, from the elegantly fixed necktie to the long-leathered trench coat that covered him down to the knees, a common attire used by the upper classes in Noxus. His face was slim, almost as the shape of the tip of a spear, with sharp cheekbones and a mouth that looked incredibly flexible as he smiled pettily at me. But it was not his smile that shocked me, no, it was his eyes. Eyes that shone like green, supernatural flames, like something evil lingered behind his mortal appearance.

The gaze of the monster in my nightmares. It was the same eyes that had terrified me for as long as I could remember, and now they were there, in the form of a devilman who smiled at me with cruel intentions. I suppressed a gasp, with trembling fingers, grasping at my robe while taking a step back.

I was petrified. How was I supposed to know this was the creature I pretended to make a deal with? I wonder If I would've been so bold to come here if I had known.

"Having second thoughts, miss?" he asked. His voice was deep, dark. The whisper of a phantom "You are indeed right to be frightened. Your soul would be in constant agony, roaming forever inside the lantern. Your friend made a choice, a very foolish one, I must say, and now he must pay the price of his own naive decisions. There is no point in wasting your life as a prisoner nor I'd like to carry a soul like yours."

"A soul like mine?" I said, trying to sound confident, but I could barely utter any words without stuttering.

"Do you wish to spend eternity in the lantern?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"No!" I replied almost immediately, without hesitation. The man looked pleased, even though there was barely a change in his expression.

"Then leave this place at once." He turned around,walking back to the inside of the house.

I realized how much of a mistake I'd made almost too late. I had been so scared that I was about to bail my plan and abandon Charles to his fate. I would never see him again, it didn't matter what choice I made. The only difference would be that, if I could convince that man to take me instead of him, Charles could be free and we could actually find a way to release myself and every other soul trapped in there. He, from outside, while I researched closely to the monster. And even so, I was shaking. Until that point, I hadn't considered the whole implications of being at the services of this devil, and the possibility of dying or, in the worst case scenario, spending the entire eternity in agony, was terrifying. But, hadn't Charles made sacrifices for me too? He was the only family I had left. The thought of my little brother suffering forever was unbearable, wasn't I supposed to be the one to protect him?

I couldn't abandon him like this...

"Wait!" I cried, so hard that it echoed across the entire yard and inside the manor. The man stopped at the door, turning slowly, first his head, then his whole body, now barely a silhouette in the dim light, staring at me without moving a muscle. I had my hand extended towards him, like trying to reach for his own, and I realized he was observing my gesture.

"Maybe... I could be of use outside the lantern..." I muttered, not even sure of what I was saying. He chuckled, almost amused with my comment. It was a muffled sound, not even a laugh.

"How come?" He asked with curiosity. Now I had his attention. It might have been a ridiculous thought, but I was starting to believe it could work.

"You're new to Noxus, sire" I said, straightening my back with an almost futile intention to appear confident. "People here talk a lot. In fact, most of them are already wondering who this mysterious visitor is. Where did he come from? What does he want? Noxus it's not a place who treats kindly it’s visitors, especially those who appear out of thin air and might be dangerous"

"Oh, I assure you, miss, I do not fret a bunch of drunken peasants who might try to trespass. Believe me, they are right to consider me a treat".

"I also consider you someone with a plan" I replied rapidly, getting to keep his eyes on me, and now, he seemed kind of... surprised "You don't strike me as a man who just wanders around this city in search for souls to torture. I believe you are here for a reason..."

He turned completely around, with an annoyed expression in his sharp face. As if I were a ridiculous fly trying to explain to a deadly spider how to seam its web.

"Your reasons are unknown to me" I continued "but I do know that once the people of Noxus begin to suspect you, Gods forbid, those who roam in the shadows, you would be the target of much more dangerous creatures than just drunken peasants."

It was true, actually. Unfortunately, Noxus was a city where you could disappear while walking back home just for people to find your dead body around the market the next morning and no one would bat an eye for you. Not to mention the multiple cults that made human sacrifices to the forgotten deities, besides robbers, assassins, rapists, the spirits that still roamed the streets late at night. Not to mention people had seen members of the Black Rose being more active than before. If this man was careless enough, some of them would notice, sooner or later, that there wasn’t something right with him.

"And what does this have anything to do with the liberation of your dearest brother from the lantern? And with you not taking his place inside of it?"

"I can be of good use outside the lantern, like I said"

Oh, dear God, what was I doing?

"If you let him go, I will be at your service, sire. You can keep me alive, not... dead and I can do anything that implies going outside the manor. People would suspect much less if they see actual movement in the mansion. It's not weird for a lord to have people at his services, even if it's just one harmless housekeeper..."

He seemed… intrigued by my proposal. I could tell he was analyzing every word that came out of my mouth, trying to find a deeper meaning or maybe ulterior motives behind my desires. Keen eyes watching my every move and reaction, almost as piercing through the flesh, into the darkest parts of my soul.

"Imagine I agree to your proposition” he speculated “What makes you think I would just let you go outside as you please?" he started walking towards me. There was this dreadful air around him that made my skin crawl. Like my heart was sinking down my throat and my blood froze little by little in my veins, with every step he took down in my direction.

The glowing, flame-like eyes coming closer, slowly, like the inevitable march of time and death, until the man stood there, five meters away from me, and I could smell the scent of his clothing, carried by the wind. Incense and the sea. Not the dry wood and dust of the hills of Noxus, but a fragrance I almost had forgotten, the one I smelled when I was a child, in a ship...

"I'm pretty sure you have ways to keep me bound to this place" I said, without escaping his glaring and hiding under my robe my shaking hands, while he studied me like a specimen he was about to dissect. "I do not doubt you could trap my brother again, and me, if I betray you. Or to even kill me, if it comes that way"

Maybe he was amused by my daring, maybe he was surprised at how much of a imbecile I was. Either way, he didn't utter a sound. The wind started to blow, much more cold than before, a voice that sang between the trees and the grass, moving the branches of the cypresses and the oaks as if they were to start dancing with the breeze, dragging with it heavy, grey-colored clouds announcing the impending storm.

“Do you wish so much to become a prisoner?” the man asked once more. The surrounding darkness of the clouds made his eyes brighter, like wildfire in the middle of the sea, blurred by the mist of the bay. “To never set a food without being watched? To know the true depths of the despair that brings with it the lack of freedom?”

I smiled, softly. Even when his face showed no change, I could tell he was, at least, studious to my reactions. I believe he was expecting me to be frightened by this, or to a certain degree intensely disturbed. For better or worse, life hadn’t treated me kindly. Since I was ten years old I had been at the service of people who considered me little more than trash and a burden, the next master worse than the last. Ironical, isn’t it? Seemed life had prepared me to serve a monster.

“Sire, I have served my whole life as a prisoner. From one Master to another, I’ve been tied to Bilgewaters my entire life” I admitted, looking directly into his cold gaze and when thunder started to strike, his eyes weren’t dulled by their light. “I do not fret to serve one more time, even if it’s forever…”

There was something that changed in his air. I cannot point out what it was, but his semblance was different, as if the winds of the storm had finally made him feel cold, even though I doubt something like him would be able to feel coldness. His previous smile had disappeared, and his mouth was now a grimace, a straight line, which made the jailer look much more severe than he already was.

“What is your name, miss?” the man asked, with a muttered, calm voice, with both hands behind his back.

“Senara Raion, sire” I responded, trembling not only because that man made me feel paralyzed, but because a very thin but chilling rain had started to fall above us.

He stared at me, thoughtful, almost as if he were expecting a reaction on my behalf.

“Miss Senara, tell me…” Suddenly, he extended his hand towards me, with no alteration to his face. “Do we have a deal?”

I looked at his face, the diabolic eyes, his gloved hand. There was no turning back…

“We do, sire.”

Had I known the future consequences of my choice… I would’ve never set foot on that hill...

-------—-----------------------------------------

Hope you liked it!

[nikibogwater]

Bogwater’s Guide to Writing Platonic Relationships

Have a seat, dears, pour yourself a mug of cocoa, and let’s talk about writing for a bit. Specifically, writing emotionally intense, compelling relationships that are completely devoid of any romantic tension.

“Niki, those don’t exist! The only relationships that are truly intense and compelling are the romantic ones! Everybody knows that!”

*gently bonks you on the head with my magic scepter* NO. This is a common misconception that is perpetuated by media and especially fandom culture. And it stems from this bizarre idea that emotional intimacy must always equate with romantic intimacy. I have no idea where this idea got its start, but if you ask literally anybody who has experienced real, genuine friendship in their life, they will tell you it’s absolute nonsense. Just because you’re not doing the kissy-kiss with someone, that doesn’t mean you’re not emotionally intimate with them.

“But I don’t want any emotional intimacy without the kissy-kiss! It’s boring!” 

Yeah, so, there’s a reason platonic relationships in modern media often feel less interesting than romantic ones, and it’s precisely because of what I said above. Media producers and many fic authors are skittish about showing platonic love with the same level of depth and emotional intensity as romantic, so it often ends up being somewhat watered down and simplified, to the point that it becomes a less interesting relationship. The only thing this does is perpetuate the idea that any and all emotional intimacy immediately implies romantic attraction (it does not) while also devaluing the very real importance of genuine friendship/familial bonds. 

“Okay, but what if I just like romance better?”

That’s your personal preference, and that’s okay! Everybody has their favorite genres and tropes that resonate with them more than others. My personal favorite is Family, Found or otherwise (with a healthy dose of Hurt/Comfort on the side), but I can totally understand if romance speaks to you more. HOWEVER. This does not excuse writers and other content producers from low-key asserting that romantic relationships are objectively “better” than platonic ones. Hard fact of life: Nobody needs to experience romance, and even those who do experience it do so in different ways. But everybody does need to have emotional connections with other people through the bonds of friendship and family. Believe it or not, romantic love is not a universal experience. Platonic though? Everybody knows that one, and everybody needs it to be happy. To devalue it as a whole is to impose a toxic mindset that forces people to experience relationships in a very narrow and restrictive way.

Okay--*steps off my soap box and kicks it to the side*--now that we’ve established that friendship is important and should be given the same value that society gives to romance, let’s talk about a few ways to write intense and compelling platonic relationships!

Emotional Intimacy:

I’ve talked about this a lot already, but just in case some of you are confused, emotional intimacy is just when two people have a very deep familiarity and understanding of each other. They understand how the other’s mind works, and feel comfortable opening up to each other about their own stuff. Obviously, this is very important for any relationship, platonic or romantic, but writers will often limit such familiarity between characters to the romantic relationships. The first step to writing an interesting friendship is to not do that. Show that your platonic soulmates understand each other and are vulnerable with each other. Here are some easy ways to do that:

Character A knows all of Character B’s personal preferences--likes and dislikes, including small things like food, flowers, music, etc. 

A can finish B’s sentences for them. 

A is willing to talk about their feelings when B asks if they’re okay.

A and B trust each other and know the other always has their back

A and B will occasionally reference events in their shared history and even have inside jokes

A will seek B out for comfort when they are upset.

A and B almost never miscommunicate--they know what the other means when they say something, and will immediately notice if the other is acting strange.

A and B can communicate with each other silently, via subtle looks, eye movements, or gestures.

Selflessness:

To quote a grossly over-marketed Disney franchise, “Love is putting someone else’s needs before yours.” This is the simplest and also most accurate definition of love I’ve come across, and it is universal to all kinds of relationships. So in order to make your platonic relationship compelling, you need to show that the characters are willing to make sacrifices for each other--even big ones. Make sure this is a mutual exchange between both characters, because otherwise you risk making the relationship look a bit toxic. Here are a few of my favorite examples of selflessness between friends/family:

Character A willingly puts themselves in harm’s way in order to protect Character B.

A is always ready to drop what they’re doing and come to B’s assistance. 

A and B regularly do small favors for each other without being asked. 

A is always mindful of B’s needs and makes sure they’re taken care of.

A and B always do their best not to hurt each other, either physically or emotionally. 

A is openly very worried whenever B is in danger and stops at nothing to help them.

Affection:

This is the part where most writers balk when writing platonic relationships. “They can’t touch each other!!! That’s sexy and weird!!!” No, it’s not. This idea that any and all signs of affection are exclusive to romantic relationships is toxic, and we need to wipe it from existence. Obviously there are different levels of physical intimacy, and some absolutely are exclusive to romantic relationships. Here’s a list of No-Gos if you want to keep a relationship completely platonic:

Kissing on the lips/mouth/neck.

Gazing deeply and silently into each other’s eyes for long periods of time for no other reason than to simply Gaze.

Doing the Do or otherwise touching each other in an explicitly sexual way (I feel like this one should be pretty obvious. Also wth guys, that stuff is grooooosssssssss 🤢)

Honestly those are the only ones that I can think of that are always exclusively romantic. Everything else requires pre-established context in order to be taken as such. So here’s a list of affectionate gestures that are totally safe for established platonic relationships!

Little forehead/cheek kisses.

Hugs--yes, even prolonged ones. Sometimes friends/family just want to hold each other for a while, and not in a sexy way. 

Holding hands.

Leaning on each other.

Playing with each other’s hair or gently petting it in order to offer comfort.

Sleeping next to each other when circumstances require it (and neither of them makes any fuss over it)

Saying “I love you.” STOP MAKING THIS AN EXCLUSIVELY ROMANTIC THING, PLEASE, FOR THE SAKE OF ALL THAT IS PURE IN THIS WORLD!

Touching foreheads (my personal favorite of the lot!)

Maintaining prolonged eye-contact during moments of sincerity and communication, especially if Character A is trying to tell B something important.

Sweet little smiles, or other such soft looks of fondness

And many other gestures that I don’t have time to go over in this list.

Tip the First: When writing platonic affection, be sure to bear in mind your characters’ personalities and physical differences. For example, if Character A is significantly bigger and heavier than Character B, they probably wouldn’t be tackle-hugging B, because that would risk seriously injuring B. Different personalities also have different levels of comfort when it comes to physical affection. If you’re writing fanfic, it helps to revisit the source material and observe how the two characters interact with each other. And remember: just because two characters aren’t physically affectionate with each other, it does NOT mean they don’t have a deep and meaningful friendship. Also bear in mind that many people have different dynamics with different friends simply due to the way their personalities fit together. Not all of my friendships look the same, and it’s not because of insincerity on my part--I just have different interactions with different people.

Tip the Second: If you want the gestures of affection to really pack a punch, use them sparingly. Save your long, warm embraces for when the two characters finally reunite after a long separation. Have Character A take B’s hand only when they can sense that B is frightened and in need of reassurance. A “First Platonic Hug” scene can be just as sweet and feelsy as a “First Kiss” scene if you do it right! Also, don’t be afraid to talk at length about how a gesture of affection makes a character feel. Describe the warm fuzzies that bubble up in their chest when their friend/family member gives them a hug, wax poetic about how grateful they are to have said friend/family member in their life. Taking time to explore and dwell on a certain feeling should never be strictly reserved for the ones associated with romance. 

And when in doubt:

Observe the professionals. Here are some fantastic platonic relationships from various pieces of media that I take tons of inspiration from:

Frodo and Sam from Lord of the Rings (especially in the books)

Jim and Toby from Dreamworks’ Tales of Arcadia series

Din and Cara from Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Lilo and Nani from Disney’s Lilo and Stitch

So in conclusion:

Listen, I get it. Romance is exciting and cute and sexy and very important in its own right, and society likes to beat us over the head with it these days. But I cannot impress on you enough just how vital platonic relationships are to living a good and fulfilling life. I am who I am today because of the family and friends who have helped me grow. Please don’t disregard it, whether in your writing or in your own life. Cherish friendship. Acknowledge the depth of your platonic feelings for someone. And writers, please don’t be afraid to express those feelings in your work. If we let friendship and family die, I can assure you, any potential for healthy romantic relationships will quickly follow suit. 

[lightwormlol]

ACOFAS REVIEW -INC SPOILERS

4.5 stars.

Okay, so! This was the first book I was able to finish in 2021. I've kinda been in a reading slump, and struggling to get past the 30-50% of books. I think its because I took essentially 3 months off my normal (daily) reading schedule and have been prioritising other things (health, fitness, job applications etc) - I think it's a testament to how addicted I was to this that I finished and consumed this at the rate I did! I recently went back and added some things to my ACOWAR review. To briefly summarise, I feel that, at the time I read it, it kind of gave me what I needed, but it definitely isn't getting a re read - my love for feysand has definitely lessened over time, but honestly i'm not that mad at sarah for this, as I find that whenever I've passed the sexual tension part of relationships in books, I tend to get bored of the domestic bliss. Like, leave that shit for an epilogue and keep it at that? As someone generally averse to relationships, but there is definitely a grace period for how long I can actively be smitten with a couple... before it becomes sickly. Taking all this into account, I honestly was nervous for this book, its release date totally took me by surprise, and I read it on a whim. As a Nessian shipper (I mean we didn't really have a choice after acomaf but to delve into the world of fanfic to keep us going) - this book gave me most of what I wanted and needed from them! I think,(some) kudos to SJM, for not disappointing in their relationship. This was definitely a character > plot driven story. In terms of the plot, I wasn't really invested until around the 38% mark? I'm not sure if I was adjusting to the writing style (lots of dramatic. sentences. that. are. so. abrupt. Nesta Archeron. Death etc) - or if it was bc I hadn't read an SJM book since the novella, which I basically skimmed. I was obviously reading for Nessian, but I didn't really feel intrigued by the wider plot (death gods, the human queens? Given I had lost my previous obsession with the world/ have outgrown 'fandom' culture, that made me actively update my knowledge, I couldn't remember a lot!) I think its clear that SJM excels character driven stories, but I think her worldbuilding and execution is significantly better in the throne of glass franchise. Now, I did say this was a character driven story. This is mostly regarding Nesta, Cassian and Azriel. I loved pretty much any interaction they had! I love a good training montage. Ngl though, I think, unless you possess an ardent love for Nessian, you're not going to be particularly wowed by this, if you've read heir of fire, or even acomaf. I obviously am never going to be able to be objective, because I've loved nessian so much from 2017-now, but I loved the dynamic those two (and three - friendship wise between nes/cass/az). One of the highlights of ACOWAR for me was the snippets of Az, showing tenderness, and opening up to the newer members of the inner circle (and i'm excluding any hint of an Elriel ship because FUCK THAT LOL) For me, the tip with SJM books is: once you outgrow them/the particular mode of narrative style, is to not anticipate anything other than a character driven story, albeit one riddled with smut. I personally am a romance heavy reader, so I'm honestly deconditioned to it at this point, (like, when I see reviewers scandalised I'm like... wow, the amount of trash I have consumed in the last five years loool.) While I disagree with the fact SJM marketed this series as y/a (or maybe it wasn't her per se, but the key booksellers definitely did this for her) - I think its clear enough now she's descended into the adult/borderline erotica genre.(very mild imo). I personally like to adopt a policy of skimming sex scenes when I find the dialogue cringy (most the time it is lets be honest any talking is v second hand embarrassment). Cassian and Nesta were definitely better than Rhys and Feyre post chapter 55 though! I was so glad there weren't a million moments of Cass/Nesta betraying their arousal with their scents, in front of everyone (like feysand, the voyeuristic pda pricks they are). I found the slowburn ish nature of their relationship great, and I actually think if you're a virgo/emotionally stunted reader, you will be happy with their relationship dynamic. It contrasts with the daemati sexual snark of acomaf, but it felt right, and authentic. This book was a journey of personal growth, for Nesta. It is clear SJM loves books about strong women, and maybe thats what makes me love this book so much. I think, out of all the archeron sisters, I love Nesta the most. This is for my Rose Calloway fans, my misunderstood, somewhat cold/left out girls, who are less receptive to being vulnerable. If you're a slowburn fan, it's not Mariana Zapata levels of slowburn, imo it's the perfect combo. Addictive enough that I don't want to put it down, but not so fast moving that I couldn't believe it. I loved the sex without emotion relationship they had!! This is honestly never done in mainstream n/a fantasy, unless its a caricature of a 'slut' that normally rivals the main character, lmao. Even if their inner conflict was p transparent, this gave me everything I needed! I know this is vapid lol but I also love the physical dynamic between the two, they just look so good together, the amount of fanart I'm going to reacquaint myself with after this review!! I adored seeing Nesta grow, (even if towards the end I kind of resented her sudden acceptance into the inner circle, i get SJM loves her and just wanted a fluffy ending, but, as a Nesta like character, it's awkward and stilted on her end to adjust to the inner circle like this - i mean, hugging rhys, really??)

I think, if I had to compare this to any other SJM book, I would say Chaols book (though I obviously preferred this). That being said, I felt less attached to new characters in this book than I was in even Chaols book (and even then ngl I remember nothing?) Obviously I loved what it represented, as a trio of traumatised women. I just, didn't love this the way I loved other inner circle members! I get that they gave Nesta exactly what they needed, a family that doesn't hold the history of her sisters, who she doesn't have to worry about holding preconceived notions of disappointment. I loved this for her! Even then.. I just wasn't attached to either of them. I found their interactions cute - but boring. Towards the end, when their stories/pasts are revealed, I couldn't help but cringe slightly, I can't put my finger on why, but I just didn't buy it. Maybe it's the brit in me but I couldn't be moved by this slightly forced bonding moment.. which was so anticlimactic. My 'aww how cute' tolerance is defo deserved for characters whose tropes I love. Maybe they just didn't fit into this list. Maybe I'm just being a cow here?

Now, let's speak about the real star of the show.... A FUCKING MAGICAL HOUSE FRIEND??? YESSSSSSS. IF YOU ARE AN ILONA ANDREWS INNKEEPERS CHRONICLES FAN, U WILL LOVE! How was the animation of this somehow more touching than all of nesta's other friendships combined? Exactly what I ordered, thank you. This trope somehow touches more than any material bonding!! The cute witch x house dynamic (also maybe howls moving castle vibes?) I loved the trying to reach the target of 10,000 steps (a little Celaena HOF). I think this, heir of fire and acomaf are my favourite SJM books for this reason. Gripes: I definitely had some personal gripes with how other members of the inner circle treated Nesta (rhys i'm looking at you. Disappointed doesn't even cover it.) I inherently take offence to any elain scene, as i'm so over bland characters whose existence is reduced to wanting to fucking plant flowers?? like?? really? To go from moriel to that is such a downgrade, even if I fell out of love with Mor due to the way she snubbed Nesta (you're a 500 year old being and you can't see someone is clearly traumatised?). I adore Az so much, but if it aint polyamorous, I cannot see any pairing with Elain making me happy. (wouldn’t mind gwyn though) I think the whole mating bond that I do not want is a good dynamic, but I really hate that everyone has to be mates in this world. I don't think we were that surprised, but it would've been nice if the somehow, idk, developed a strong bond over time, without it being preordained? Like, even if they do not all actively stay with their mate, given how disproportionate mates are among the general population, what's the likelihood 6 members of the inner circle (including lucien) have mates?

My advice? Read this book if you love nessian and the acotar world in general, but don't expect the world building to be consistent with greater fantasy series'. This style of story is obviously what to expect. She writes what she likes, and if her fantasy is this - then who are we, as readers, to expect otherwise?

Final rating: 4.5 (no, i'm not objective, but objectivity does not exist if you are a real, human being, lol)

Original Characters: 5/5 (nessian/az/house wise) 1/5 (feysand - really over how they essentially take over the very end of the book - ugh, I wanted nesta's arc to be wholly separate from them) Writing style: 3.5 Cringe Scale: Low, with the exception of some dialogue. New Characters: 2 Plot: I went into it with a 2 and came out with a 4. Not in terms of complexity, but in terms of how addictive and enjoyable this reading experience was! (less)

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Hi! I've been thinking a lot recently about opening commissions for fanfics and was wondering if you had any advice. I also have a couple questions if you don't mind answering? Like what do you do when there's a commission you cannot write for the life of you and do you request payment before writing them? Sorry if this is inconvenient, I just can't think of anyone else atm who does commissions and needed some advice <3

No worries baby I never mind giving advice!

The most important thing about commissions is to make a list of things you absolutely know you cannot write. I have a list of things I won't write on my commissions page.

Now if you think you can write it and take payment, and then you can't, I suggest offering a refund. Sometimes we aren't sure what our limitations are until we start.

I do request payment first, and that's because so much goes into planning, writing and editing a fic that if I finish it and then they end up not wanting it, I'm out a lot of time and effort.

Some various tips I've learned:

- Lots of people won't give feedback after the commission is sent. Don't be discouraged, people get busy and forget to comment even if they loved it!

- Take your time. A commission that's well plotted and well thought out is worth waiting for and 99.9 % of people understand that.

- Market yourself with a goal in mind. You can tell people that goal or not but let's just say you'd like to make $50. People are more likely to get you to that goal by buying the last commission on a list than if you don't have a goal.

- This is a mistake I've made a lot...don't overwork yourself. Sell commissions in spurts, get a few of them then close commissions to work on them or you'll be drowning in no time.

Good luck, honey! I hope it goes well!

[serendipitous-magic]

what's your writing process like? do you plot things out beforehand? or do you sort of write it as it comes? a mix of both?

Depends on what I'm writing!

In general I'm a planner. I can't write from a blank page, unless I'm just like... really really captivated by whatever I'm writing, which was what happened with the first chapters of both The Art of Living Your (Second) Life and The Partnership Plan.

a) In general, if it's a fanfiction I'm writing, I tend to build the plan as I write - meaning, oftentimes I'll be inspired to write the first chapter, and I'll write that with little idea what the rest of it will be. Or, even if I have an idea what the rest will be, it's more of a vague skeleton than a full plan. And then, as I continue to write, I think more about where the story is going and I continuously add to and refine my plan kind of alongside the actual writing. In this way, the plan grows at the same time that the actual chapters do - but because the chapters take significantly longer to write than planning does, the plan outpaces the "real" writing and I usually know the basic story arc from fairly early on. Then it's just a matter of fleshing it out, adding detail, writing down scenes I thought of, etc. And then when I get to that point in the actual writing, I have a framework in place already.

-_-_-

b) Sometimes for fanfic, I have a more complete plan upfront - although I use "complete" here to mean "from beginning to end," not "completely detailed." So, more like a full skeleton than a full body, if that makes sense. I did that with Roll for Strength. What usually happens is that my plan will look something like...

...

Chapter One

-Will suspects Mike has a girlfriend and is kind of put out about it but thinks he's over Mike so he tells himself he doesn't care

-Will walks in on Mike and his BF (name??) and has a crisis (they don't see Will, so Will knows about Mike but Mike doesn't know that Will knows)

-Will might get off to that later, guiltily? (Or move to chapter two)

Chapter Two

-Do Mike's POV to tell about how he ended up dating a guy, how he got very disillusioned with the world after canon events and got into a "fuck it, the rules don't matter and I hate them anyway" mentality, which eventually snowballed into him kind of realizing and accepting his sexuality earlier than usual fanon

-Also introduce BF (name??) in a scene

-Set time and place - season should set the mood if not already mentioned in Ch 1

-Maybe also do BF's POV briefly to introduce him?? Or leave that for later

...

Etc.

And that's the original skeleton plan. And then it gets expanded upon more and more and more as I continue to think about the story, sometimes even with full pages' worth of unbroken text blocks as I get inspired and start basically thought-vomiting an entire scene. So by the time I get around to actually writing it, it might look like the above, or it might be a few steps shy of an actual draft already, depending on how much I've thought about / worked on that part.

See #5 in this writing advice post to see what I mean about a "thought vomit" draft.

-_-_-

c) Here's the thing - the above was for fanfic, or for short stories, or stories that I'm just kind of having fun with.

For original stuff, I adhere much more tightly to the "rules," because the guidelines for original work (that you might try to publish in the actual publishing market) are much stricter - and for good reason! Fanfiction is a sandbox, and we're all invested in the characters and worlds and settings already. We're all reading and writing fanfic because we already love these characters and this world, and we just want to play in it.

It's a different situation with original novels that you hope to publish. The plot, pacing, tension, and story beats have to be much, much tighter and more polished. Because people reading original work have no prior reason to be invested in it or care what happens - that's work that you have to do. For fanfic, that work was done for you by the original thing. Not to mention, the publishing world is so absolutely choked with competition, and the emphasis lies so heavily on sales, that if your book isn't fucking top-tier compelling, no publisher or agent will take a second look at it. Which is kind of unfortunate, because there's value in slower, more relaxed, more reflective storytelling, too - it's just not what capitalism has decided to value, which is sad.

But anyway.

When writing an original thing, I basically need a full plan - beginning to end, covering all plot points. Not necessarily all the details, just all the plot points - I need a skeleton and I need connective tissue. The rest comes later. But to start, I need to know what happens, why, and how the characters get from event to event. I need to know the physical story events, the emotional beats, and how those things logically flow throughout the story.

Some people can write without this and it still turns into a compelling story, tight narrative, etc. I envy these people. I have all respect for these people. I cannot do this. If I write original work with no plan, and especially without at least like 50-75% of a plan, I end up with something slow, meandering, and kind of limp. No bueno.

So, I usually use a beat sheet.

What's a beat sheet?

It's a 15-beat plotting structure used by screenwriters. And, yeah, technically it's for movies / screenplays. But storytelling is storytelling. And it's highly flexible. (And my favorite professor ever taught it to me in college so you can pry it out of my cold dead hands.)

Google it. It's what I use to make sure my (original work) plots are tight, have momentum, have a satisfying character arc, etc.

Okay, okay, I'll paste the basic structure below just so you can see wtf I'm talking about:

-_-_-

-Act I:

1) The First Frame

-What is the first thing we see? This should be a snapshot of the main character’s problem, before the story begins

-Ex: the Star Destroyer in A New Hope

2) The World Around Us

-What is the main character’s world like at the beginning of the story?

-What is missing in the main character’s life?

3) State the Theme (sneak this into The World Around Us)

-What is the story secretly about? This should happen during The World Around Us

4) Inciting Incident (smol tentpole)

-What happens to put the hero on the road? This is where the hero’s life changes forever.

5) The Hero Questions

-1st introspective moment

-Can the hero really do this? Should the hero chicken out?

-Oftentimes the hero fails at something

-Ex: Luke gets his ass beat by the raiders

-Act II:

6) Crossing the Threshold / The Emotional Hurdle (big tentpole)

-The main character makes a choice

-Beginning of Act II

7) The B Story / The Love Story

-Introduced here

-Often but not always a love story

8) Promise of the Premise

-Fun and games in the world you promised

-Horror movie? Creeps here!

-Sci fi? Space battles!

-Animation? Shenanigans!

9) Midpoint (big tentpole)

-The hero finds out that what they want is not what they need

-Luke rescues the princess - turns out that’s not really what the story was about

10) Bad Guys Close In / Throwing Rocks

-Events conspire to tear the hero’s goal to shreds

-Wesley is mostly dead, Inego is drunk, Fezzick is part of the brute squad

-This is the other side of the fun and games coin where things are no longer fun

11) All is Lost

-Something super bad happens, and that goal is impossible

-If someone important is gonna die, it’s probably now

12) The Pit of Despair (smol tentpole)

-The hero mourns the death (if someone died) and wallows in his/her lowest point

13) Inspiration

-A fresh idea

-Act III:

14) Come and Get Some / Final Confrontation (big tentpole)

-The final confrontation - the final showdown

-A and B stories wrapping up at the same time

-The theme makes sense and the battle is engaged

15) Final Frame

-Opposite of the first frame

-The hero is changed

-_-_-

It's what I use. But hey, you don't have to. What works for me might not work for you.

I'll finish this off by pasting in a section of actual real-ass planning I have open in a document for one of my novels at this moment (it's giving me the evil eye, I swear) so you can see what I kind of mean by "thought vomiting." Also note that in my actual document, the bullet points are indented incrementally to be kind of "nestled" underneath the relevant points, if that makes sense, and that it's a whole eye-watering mess of different colors. But for Tumblr, it's this:

-_-_-

-You have to be rescued by the rest of the team, because you fell down that hole - and you are, eventually, after screaming yourself hoarse some more (plus it’s been like an hour or more now, so they have since noticed that you were missing)

-I could gloss over this, like end the chapter when you run away, and open the next one with “It takes another half hour of screaming your throat nearly bloody before the team finds you,” or something

-They berate you for chasing after ghosts - you say you didn’t find anyone down there, because you know for damn sure nobody’s gonna believe what you think you saw, and you don’t even think you believe it

-This leads to a trip to the local doctor (a clinic, probs, akin to UrgentCare), which you’re not happy with because that’s more people taking notice of you

-However, you’re also going through the change in mindset here - see below

-Note: I as the writer don’t have to worry about the paperwork or whatever that you’d normally have to fill out, getting hurt on the job, because you weren’t officially hired - however, it would be a good “humanity is okay” moment if the guy who hired you came in and helped you with the medical expenses because he felt bad - he’d also probably be a little nervous about you suing or something, but you assure him that you have zero interest in that

-I could include a funny line where the guy says he’ll pay for your doctor bill and you try to say no (being indebted to someone is bad news for you) but he insists, because he says he feels responsible, and you just kind of stare at him and then blurt, “Do you need me to kill anyone for you?” (Something you probably regret as soon as you say it, not because you expect him to accept but because you abruptly remember what happened two days ago.) (Would it be too much to also add like “You want me to murder anyone for you? You want a blowjob? I will do anything,” and he gets flustered and bats it off like “Nah, nah, nah, chill out. You’re crazy, man.” And insists that you don’t need to pay him back)

-Here’s a decision I have to make - does the guy pay for your doctor bills as well as paying for your work today (leaving you enough money to potentially split town, but you decide not to), or do you have to pay the $2,500+ in doctor bills with no insurance for the injury, which raises the stakes by depleting all your money?

-I think I like Option A best, because it gives Sam more agency as a character if they decide to stay despite having the option to leave, versus them just being stuck completely - plus I don’t know how else I’d be able to explain away you having money for the hotel

-The guy who hired you pays you for the work day here - and maybe, just maybe, that gives you barely enough to buy that used car (although, why would it? It couldn’t have been more than like $200 for 8 hours of work, maybe $300 if he was really really desperate - if it was a really cheap used car, that might give you barely enough to buy the car but literally nothing left over)

-Point being, maybe you have enough money to bolt now, if you chose to - and you have to make the choice not to

-The car you found might be a $1,500 Honda Civic (or Jeep or whatever) with a dead battery, and the guy selling it says it should run fine with a new battery, which you Google (apparently it would be somewhere in the range of $100-$200) - maybe you think of how nice the mechanic was for you and wonder if you could cut a bit of a deal with him, if you get this car - and if the guy pays for your trip to the doctor and pays you for the temp work, this could just tip you into the margin of being able to afford the car, if you haggle with the seller

-_-_-

Or another example, with more actual sentences:

-_-_-

-As you approach the trailer you start to register a smell that turns your stomach - something like a porta potty and something like the sharp tang of rusting metal. It makes you pause - maybe there really is someone in there, using the place to live whether there’s a sewage hookup or not - it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing you’ve heard of. But after standing for a bit, silent and listening, and then hiding behind a large tree to chuck a rock at the vehicle to no response, you continue forward. You’ll just have to be cautious. Your spirits lift when you see the door. It’s completely grown over. (Leafy vines lace over it, tangling in the handle, yellowing and unbroken. If someone is living in there, they’ve been using the window to come and go, and that doesn’t seem all too likely. Bolstered by a new swell of confidence, and picturing the unlikely riches you might find stashed away in a cabinet or a glove compartment, you cross the last few feet towards the shape.

-You find the body and recognize it as one of the two obnoxious vlogging dudes from the motel

-I’m kind of imagining the moment of discovery like the wardrobe moment in Narnia where, during your nice forest trek, there’s been some pleasant acoustic music playing (like All the Pretty Girls by Kaleo maybe) and then it just stops abruptly in the middle of a phrase, maybe echoing slightly, when you see the body, and all at once everything is sickly silent.

-Oh dude, maybe you continue thinking it’s a duffel bag (possibly feeling pretty upbeat, though cautious until you’re literally about to step over it, and then you happen to glance down and get a sickening, chest-slamming shock when an empty human face is staring up at you

-Note: there should be mushrooms growing in, on and around the RV, because mushrooms are Creepy

-You go to investigate the RV

-Maybe you recognized the body as one of the vloggers and you’re trying to see if his friend is around - or maybe, in a kind of sick daze, you short circuit and find yourself doing the only thing you can think to do: continuing along your trajectory, stumbling towards the RV and tearing the rusted-out door free from the lattice of brittle vines that held it in place (this is what alerts The Dude that someone has been here), like if you just get to your original goal that’ll fix everything - somehow, if you just keep moving forward on the track you set out on, that thing won’t be real anymore - at the very least you have to get inside, to put a door between you and the body, like you’re pulling the blankets over your head to shield yourself from the boogeyman. Just as long as you’re not out there with, with...

-_-_-

Anywho, I'll stop.

I apologize again for... (scrolls up for a million miles) all of that, but you asked me about my passion and now you pay the price, lmao.

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Labor of Love Chapter 4: A Critical Role Fanfic

Let me just say this, this pandemic has really been messing with my productivity. But in weird ways, like, some days I got through 1000 words, the next day I would barely write three sentences. Crazy times. This chapter...we got romantic progression. Which is exciting because that means next chapter will be dedicated to panicking. I love panicking. 

As always, thank you everyone for the mountain of support I have received on this fic. Really, reading the comments and the reblog tags and everything is what kept me going. 

Enjoy!

Read on Tumblr (CH 1, CH2, and CH 3)

Read on AO3

Preview:

Elves didn’t need to sleep as other species did, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t. Essek actively avoided sleep, mostly because he didn’t enjoy dreaming. He didn’t know how people did it every night, go under and then have your brain spew out images and sequences that didn’t make any rational sense. Essek liked everything organized, separated out, and delineated neatly with understandable criteria. Having a strange dream where he was being crushed under some warm weight definitely was not any of those things, and Essek didn’t appreciate it one bit... 

...and then Essek tried to take a breath and he realized he wasn’t dreaming rather immediately. He woke up with a panicked start. Frumpkin, Caleb’s cat who took up residence in the bakery, was laying on his chest and had a paw on Essek’s mouth. He was batting at him like he had expected Essek to be dead, and when Essek awoke the cat blinked at him with wide luminous yellow eyes. He was an adorable mongrel, fluffy and orange...and large. He was at least ten pounds if not heavier and had taken residence on his body like he was the couch Essek was laying on. 

“As cute as you are...I cannot allow you to kill me,” Essek informed the cat. “I’m sorry if I took your spot though.”

“Mrrp?” Frumpkin asked cutely, tufted ears flicking to the front. 

“I know, I’m confused too,” Essek said as he managed to sit up. The cat offered no resistance and slid into his lap, only meowed plaintively at Essek’s movement and the loss of his comfy spot. Maybe it was because the cat looked so sad, or maybe he really was just losing his edge, but when he stood up he scooped the cat in his arms. He gave the cat a quick bounce, like he had seen mothers do for babies. For a moment, again, Essek swore his eyes flashed blue but it was probably the light. The cat cocked his head at Essek like he didn’t understand what he was doing...and to be fair Essek didn’t either. Essek carefully settled the cat down, earning a final meow before the cat trotted off.

The house itself was quiet and dark, the clock on the kitchen wall read 3:00 AM. He must have fallen asleep on the couch...how utterly embarrassing. Essek had to decide what he could do then...would he sneak out without a word or should he leave a note of some kind. He didn’t want the Mighty Nein to think him unappreciative...but he also wanted nothing more than to go home, bury his head in his own sheets, and let the heat in his cheeks fade until he was his usual cold, icy shell of a person. 

A note would do, Essek thought. He would leave them a note, thanking them for their hospitality but saying how he had needed to get home-

His plans were immediately dashed by Caleb appearing in the kitchen. He was dressed in his uniform, the plan shirt and jeans. But his hair was bed-mussed, and he looked half-asleep on his feet. 

“You should still be sleeping,” Caleb noted with a frown. “It’s much too early for you to be up.” 

“Drow,” Essek said, pointing at himself. “I only need four hours to trance...about the same or less sleep when that happens. And you are certainly one to talk, you are a human. Aren’t humans supposed to sleep eight hours?” 

“Baker’s hours,” Caleb explained, rubbing at his face before literally running into the wall. “Sheisse! I gotta be at the bakery for four...didn’t get to sleep until twelve...” 

“Please, before you hurt yourself,” Essek motioning towards the stool by the kitchen island. “I’ll make some coffee for you.” 

Caleb blinked owlishly at Essek, as if now just truly registering his existence for the first time. To be fair, this did all feel like a dream. 

“You don’t have to-”

“I am not good at much in the kitchen, but I do pride myself on making a decent cup of coffee,” Essek promised him. “It at least keeps me alive and functional. Now, if you don’t mind?” 

Caleb sat down, following Essek’s request. There was an ancient looking percolator on the backburner of the stove, which Essek was grateful for. It wasn’t the Marquesian Press that Essek had in his own apartment, but Essek was certain it would brew a decent cup. Instant cup coffee machines were a new invention, and certainly were useful. But the coffee itself was just never as good as when you took the time. 

Essek filled the percolator with water and set the water to boil. He measured out a solid four tablespoons of ground coffee he found nestled between a sugar bowl and a honey jar, packing it down, placing the lid on the filter before putting it into the boiling water and covered it with the cap itself. As he let that boil and steep away he caught a glimpse at Caleb, who had mostly melted into the island, head in his arms. Frumpkin was curled next to him, tail swishing lazily. It was the tail running against Caleb’s bare arms that made Essek notice the scars there. They were old...pale against his fair freckled skin and red hair, marking up both forearms. 

Not your business, Essek told himself firmly, taking the bread on the counter and slicing it for toast and popping it in the toaster. Essek spied some apples, in a bowl and set to cutting them up as he waited. He didn’t know what Caleb even ate in the morning...he just hoped that toast, coffee, and an apple would be enough. As he chopped, Essek felt like he was doing some pale imitation of a housewife from an Empire sitcom. Essek didn’t make breakfast...he didn’t even cook. When he was on his own he made smoothies or rice. He bought breakfast at Caleb’s bakery in the morning when he didn’t. Essek didn’t understand this strange urge to do this, but felt if he didn’t he would be crippled by his own conscience. 

The coffee was done, and the toast popped up around the same time. And Essek settled it all in front of Caleb, who was definitely asleep from the way his breaths drew in and out calmly and deeply. Essek looked at Caleb for a long moment, taking in this quiet stolen moment of intimacy. Essek wanted to let him keep sleeping, but as Essek knew so well, Caleb’s job was important to him...and it was important to Essek. 

Gently...Essek settled his hands on Caleb’s forearm and hand. Essek could nearly feel the warmth emanating from him where he was sitting, pressed recently out from his sheets, and cringed at the thought of his cold hands pulling him from that. Caleb made a noise, a soft...vulnerable release of breath and Essek felt like his heart was being wringed dry...dragged out from whatever dark musty cobweb covered corner that Essek hid it in because Essek had never wanted to kiss someone so badly before in his life. 

“Caleb,” Essek murmured, forcing his voice to be calm and even. 

“Hm?” Caleb asked drowsily, attempting to drag his arms closer to his head...a strangely boyish and charming attempt to hide from waking up. 

“How do you take your coffee?” Essek asked him quickly removing his hands (even though he could have lingered in that moment forever), and this drew Caleb up...eyes fluttering open and squinting blearily. “And what would you like on your toast?” 

“A little milk or cream...whatever we have in the fridge,” Caleb said, rubbing his face and running his fingers through his hair as Essek opened the fridge. When he turned back, his curls were even less tamed then before. “And...just butter, there’s marmalade in the fridge too.” 

“There,” Essek said, pouring in a dash of milk into the coffee and setting the butter dish and bright orange fruit preserves on the table next to it besides the cut up apple. “Eat and wake up.” 

“You didn’t have to do this,” Caleb said, reaching for the mug as Essek poured his own cup. 

“No, I didn’t. But what can I say, I’m a kind and caring person,” Essek said with a sarcastic smile, taking a sip from his own mug. The coffee was smooth and had a nice body to it. “But please...this is just the bare minimum.” 

“It’s good,” Caleb said, his voice dipping and his accent drawing out the vowels. He took a second drink before giving Essek a look with humor glinting in his blue eyes. “You wouldn’t be in the market for a job as a barista, would you?”

“Oh please,” Essek said with a roll of his eyes. 

“I’m not kidding! You are obviously very talented.” 

“That’s my secret. I’m good at everything,” Essek said, raising his mug to hide his smile, basking at the compliment.  

“Oh? Really?”

“And I’m terribly competitive. Give me your recipe book and teach me to bake and I’ll put you out of business in three months.”  

“That I don’t doubt. I certainly wouldn’t want you as a business competitor,” Caleb chuckled. 

“Thankfully for everyone, I am not in business,” Essek said, sitting across from Caleb. “And I also can’t bake so the Xhorhaus Bakery is safe for now.” 

“We will all sleep well tonight with that knowledge,” Caleb said, slathering his toast with butter and marmalade and taking a bite. “Why don’t you have some?” 

“I’m fine,” Essek said, taking another sip of his coffee. “I won’t be hungry for a few hours yet if at all...I find it difficult to eat in the morning generally. I’m content where I am.”

 “Keeping me company?” Caleb asked with a quirk of his lips. 

“If you don’t mind it,” Essek said. 

“No, I enjoy your company.” 

“You are a rare breed,” Essek noted. 

“Clearly they are lacking taste,” Caleb hummed. 

“Perhaps,” Essek said with a smile. 

“It’s too early for you guys to be flirting,” Beau said as she burst into the kitchen. Essek felt his face heat up. “Sweet, is that coffee?” 

“I believe it’s time for me to go regardless,” Essek said, moving by Beauregard to settle his mug in the sink, shoving everything down where he couldn’t feel anything because he needed to focus and escape this situation as quickly as possible. Her words were echoing in his head, thrumming like his desperate heartbeat. “Enjoy the coffee.” 

“Essek,” Caleb said, sounding hopeful. “This was fun...we...we should do this again sometime.”  

“Ah, yes-I mean, sometime, yes,” Essek said, cringing as he grabbed his coat and hastily yanked on his shoes. 

He was out the door at a solid half-run, shoving his hands in his coat pocket, dragging out his keys and jabbing them into the ignition. He was halfway down the street, holding back a scream as he did so. Do it again sometime, Caleb wanted to do it again sometime. How? Why? It didn’t make any sense. But Essek couldn’t control the desperate beating of his heart and the heat in his face and the way his stomach was full of a fluttering sensation he couldn’t name. 

Flirting. She was right, he had been flirting! Flirting with Caleb. As if that was supposed to help him or this or make anything better? Essek couldn’t think that way, but that was the problem he hadn’t been thinking. What on Exandria had he been doing? Making him breakfast and falling asleep in his damn house with not a care in the world and…! He stopped at a red light and watched a couple cross, pushing their kid in a baby carriage. Then, it smacked Essek in the face like a fireball. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

...he was in love, wasn’t he? This wasn’t just some vague interest or errant attraction. He was in love, Essek was in love with Caleb. 

Someone honked at him and he realized he'd been sitting at a green light. Thankfully moments later he turned into the parking for his own building. He settled his forehead against the steering wheel, letting the waves of emotion wash over him. Essek wanted to scream. What was he supposed to do? What did people do when they were in love? How did people handle it? How was Essek supposed to deal with this situation? 

“Alright, Theylss. It’s time to think. What do you want?” Essek demanded of himself, staring at his own reflection as he pulled down the mirror. Essek looked exhausted and vaguely unhinged to his own eyes. “Screw the rest of them, what do you want?” 

What does he want? He supposed that was the million platinum question. Did he want this to be a light flirtation? Something hot and heavy and fast? Or did he want something to build his life on? Caleb wanted to do it again sometime...wanted to spend time with him and banter over coffee. And Essek found that he wanted that more than anything he could imagine, wanted it so bad he could almost taste it like coffee and sweets and something warm that he could dwell in forever. 

But what if I ruin it? There came the part of Essek that he just couldn’t ignore. You’ll get hasty, you’ll make a mistake, and then the way you are won’t be a choice anymore...it’ll be your fault. It’s not safe. But...could he live with himself if he didn’t try? 

“Nothing I do is safe,” Essek told himself sternly, snapping up his mirror and exiting the car. 

---------

So now that Essek had realized that he was in love with Caleb and wanted something to happen with that love, what was he to do with that information was on his mind? Well, he knew what the next logical step was. Most people that desired a romantic relationship with someone else asked that other person on a date. 

“A date,” Essek muttered, splashing his own face with water and then getting to work on his cleanser.  

What would Caleb want? Essek didn’t really know enough about him to know. He wanted to learn so badly though, so the date itself should be conducive to learning. Essek, also, found most of the trendy dates they covered in the publication to be outright cringe worthy. As if the stress of trying to escape from an escape room would be good to test out a spark? Dinner perhaps? Everyone ate dinner. He could ask Caleb out for dinner. If he got the feeling it was going well...then maybe it could be a date. If not, he could just commit to enjoying Caleb’s presence and friendship and pine like a lovesick fool. 

“Don’t rush into things,” Essek warned his reflection, smoothing on moisturizer and looking at himself critically. As usual his skin looked unmarked and unblemished...but...he could always go for a facial. His hair too could be done to be the tiniest fraction neater. It might be worth going to the bath house...but no, he was overthinking it...like always. He just needed to do it, find the right moment and ask Caleb out. 

Essek went to the bakery that morning as usual, though nothing else about the situation felt like normal. The line was full of the usual customers, the regulars that Essek could almost consider them acquaintances at this point even if they had never spoken a word to each other. The orc secretary from the building across from Essek’s, the drow woman who was always bouncing a baby or pushing a carriage, the dwarf running over for his coworkers from the auto shop two doors down.

Essek got to the front of the line, and saw Caleb there. He looked tired, but smiled as soon as he saw Essek. There was flour splashed against the front of his apron, and the dusting of something pink on his cheek, and Essek swore he had never seen a man so beautiful before in his whole damn life. Who knew that knowing someone and loving them could make them more beautiful? It all had to be brain chemistry, it couldn’t be really true, but it felt true.  

“Guten Morgen,” Caleb said. “The usual?” 

“Ah, yes, and what do you have for breakfast today?” Essek asked, his voice normal to his own ears (thankfully). 

“Jester was in the mood for some doughnuts, so I’ll be happy to put together a dozen for you,” Caleb said with a little smile. Jester. She was dancing behind the counter on the other side, chatting with usuals. She spotted him and waved, and Essek waved back numbly. She was beautiful, that was just plain to see. Essek wasn’t attracted to women like that but he knew it to be true. Caleb had smiled about Jester...what if? No. Essek scolded himself. It didn’t hurt to ask. 

“Yes, I’ll do that,” Essek said, not really thinking about the logistics of twelve doughnuts. Someone would have to eat them...he couldn’t horde them to himself, after all. (Even though each individual doughnut was probably delicious enough to warrant such behavior.) 

“I believe you’ll especially enjoy the black moss one,” Caleb said motioning to that specific doughnut in the case, punching in his order. 

“Receipt today please,” Essek said, the thought suddenly springing into his head… a plan sprouting quickly.  Caleb printed out the receipt for him and turned to gather up his doughnuts. As he did so, Essek scrawled his number with his name on the back and slipped it into the tip container before Caleb turned back with his box. 

"Have a good day," Caleb said with a smile. 

"Yes, you too," Essek said, stomach twisted in his anxiety as he rushed out the door. 

Ball was in his court now. Caleb could text Essek, or he wouldn’t. And then if Caleb did decide to text Essek, Essek would ask Caleb out to dinner. Really, it was a perfect solution to the problem he was facing (which was, of course, the issue of the fear of being known). 

Essek arrived at work carrying both the drinks and the box of doughnuts. He handed Quana’s and Leylas’ regular orders to their secretary and then settled down at his desk as he waited for the first meeting of the day that would begin in approximately fifteen minutes. Leylas was meeting with some TV producer and a creative director to hash out exactly what she did and did not want aired on TV. He eyed the box of doughnuts, before flipping the lid just to satisfy his curiosity. 

Each doughnut was frosted with different decorations. There were two plain glazed, two chocolate glazed, and one plain and one cinnamon sugar it looked like. The rest were filled doughnuts, dusted with confectioners sugar or frosted with flowers or fruits decorating the sides. He picked up a doughnut, unable to resist it. It was quite beautiful, golden brown with a white frosting a single beautifully piped flower. Essek took a bite, if only to sate his grumbling stomach and wasn’t disappointed. It melted in his mouth. Black moss was a recent phenomenon, and the taste was much like a high quality green tea, subtly sweet and with deep earthy notes. But of course...the frosting was vanilla and almond and just the hint of lemon...sweet and deliciously sour and pairing perfectly with the filling.

Lemon again...that fool, Essek thought feeling oddly emotional because Caleb knew what his favorite flavor was. Not that he had ever had a favorite flavor before, but he didn't think anyone had ever cared enough about him to learn. 

Essek looked at the top of the doughnut and realized that though there hadn’t been something written before, there was something written now. It’ll be a sweet day! The handwriting was feminine and looping and had hearts in place of periods, most likely Jester’s doing. Essek smiled at the doughnut in his hand. It was a very cute, and as always inventive use for the spell Illusory Script. He wondered how they had worked out that trigger. It was almost a shame to eat it, though, he finished the whole doughnut quickly. When you were eating something that disappeared like that, it almost felt like you were eating air. It was too good to feel bad about, though he made sure to close the box and push it as far away from his hands as he could. He definitely didn’t want to push his luck on a second doughnut. 

Essek was in the middle of these thoughts when his phone vibrated, startling him out of his own brain. Essek nearly slammed his phone down onto the desk, screen down so he didn’t have to look at the message at first and then felt stupid for doing so. What if it was just a business text? What if it was his boss? He couldn’t just flinch and dither around all day like he was some lovestruck bachelor waiting by the door for word of an accepted engagement offer. He had a job to do, he couldn’t forget that. After all, his job was one of the one things that he was actually good at. 

He turned his phone over, and saw it was definitely not his boss. It was an unknown number...and under it a message for him. 

Hello this is Caleb. Is this Essek?  

Oh Luxon, it was happening. He had really texted him. What did people normally do in situations like this? How long should he wait before texting back? It had already been two minutes since he had received the text, that should be an appropriate amount of time. After all, for work, under five minutes tended to be the sweet spot for communication. But what should he say? That was a whole other can of wyrms. 

Hello, yes, this is Essek. Essek sent as he mushed ahead without a second thought, and then was immediately washed with a sense of existential dread so strong he wanted to bash his head into the desk. He reread his own response, wishing that he had majored in the dunamantic study of reversing time. He was being so formal and stilted. How was he supposed to bring up the idea of a date naturally in this state? Obviously someone was punishing him for his avarice and naturally impossible good looks. Really this was what he deserved. Maybe he shouldn’t have bad talked the Luxon so much as an angsty teenager. 

His phone buzzed in his hand, making him nearly drop it. He scrambled to right it in his fingers and read what Caleb had written. 

I’m glad, I had totally forgotten to ask you for your number the other day, was Caleb’s response. And then the second message came through before Essek could truly emotionally process what was going on, I meant what I said, I would like to spend more time with you if you would like?

“Oh fuck it,” Essek muttered to himself, throwing caution to the wind. 

I was wondering if you would be interested in dinner? Essek sent, feeling his heart pounding in his ears as he did so. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, of agonizing over a single message because what if Essek had read this all wrong? What if Caleb didn’t feel the things that Essek did during those stolen moments during the day? 

His phone pinged, and Essek scrambled to open it up. 

Yes, I am. 

Just that was enough to relieve the pressure he had found on his lungs, allowing him to draw in a deep breath. Caleb was interested. He was interested in dinner. Then to his surprise another text came through immediately after. 

Tonight? 

Tonight? Essek thought, mind reeling. He didn't have anything going on tonight. He could do it tonight. Could he get a table anywhere decent though was the question. He pulled up a certain restaurant and looked at the number. He may need to name drop. But, he could probably get it done...after all he was Essek Theylss. Getting things done how he wanted them was what he did for a career. He quickly managed to secure a table, and within five minutes he was typing back to Caleb.

Tonight it is. I’ll send you the address.  

I’ll see you then. 

Essek settled down his phone, attempting to control his urge to smile as he spun in his chair. Tonight, a date with Caleb tonight. Even if Caleb hadn’t read it as such, he could make this work to his favor regardless. Something to look forward to...that was another thing that Caleb had given him that had broken the monotony of Essek’s routine. It took so little to make him happy recently...another new development that was all Caleb’s fault. Just this...the promise of seeing Caleb again was enough. 

“Essek, meeting’s starting,” Quana said as she walked by his desk. Essek stood up, pocketing his phone as he did so and grabbing his tablet. 

“Thank you,” Essek told her as he walked beside her. 

“Did something good happen?” Quana asked suspiciously. 

“Perhaps,” Essek answered, his smile rehearsed...and yet, feeling more genuine than it ever had before. 

------

Essek looked at himself in the mirror again. As always, he looked attractive. The trip after work to the barber had been worth the trouble he thought as he inspected the neat lines and cut of his hair. He still didn’t know if Caleb was attracted to men...or drow. He had heard that some people were particular about species, though he had never understood attraction to begin with so he certainly wasn’t an expert. But...he hadn’t pulled away when Essek had touched his arm...so that was a good sign that maybe he was in luck. Regardless, Essek found it hard to believe that many could resist his good looks. It happened of course, but, his pretty face could only serve as a boon tonight. 

 He had dressed in a charcoal grey suit, and was finishing tying his tie as his phone rang. Thinking it might be Caleb he excitedly picked it up, only to feel his face twist. Ugh. This was the last thing he wanted right now. Looking seriously at the caller ID on his phone, and knowing that if he didn’t answer he would be in a whole world of trouble, he sighed as he answered the call and opened his closet. He scanned the rack he kept of his shoes, looking for something formal but comfortable. 

“Yes mother?” Essek asked her, voice clipped and short even to his own ears. 

“Is that any way to greet your mother?” Dierta asked with a sigh, though she didn’t sound too annoyed with Essek. She had to be used to his attitude at this point in their relationship after all. 

“I’m just a little busy at the moment,” Essek said, picking out a pair of black shoes and setting them down on the floor. “What did you need?” 

“Essek, we’re going to have a dinner tonight with Den VeSunn, and we’ll-”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not available tonight,” Essek said with a sigh, managing to get his first shoe on by shoving it on his foot, but he almost lost his balance. He settled down on the couch, hoping to not repeat that performance. He found the second shoe was much easier to pull on sitting. 

“You aren’t available?” Dierta asked incredulously. “What? Is Leylas having a party or something? I certainly wasn’t invited to one.” 

“No, Mother, I have plans tonight so I will be unavailable,” Essek repeated as he walked over to his dresser and picked out some earrings that capped the end of his ear and dangled attractively without being too ostentatious. He put his mother on speaker so he could use both hands and not stab himself. He doubted that Caleb would find bleeding or bruised ears attractive. 

“You have plans?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Essek asked sarcastically, and considering the noise his mother gave him on the other side of the line apparently it was. 

“What could be more important than this?” Dierta demanded incredulously, sounding more annoyed than anything. 

“If you must know, I have a date tonight,” Essek said with a snap at his phone, finally losing his well worn sense of patience. “Does that satisfy your need to know?” 

There was silence on the other side of the line. It was long enough that he stopped what he was doing and confirmed that his mother hadn’t hung up on him. For a dark moment Essek was sure he had given his mother a heart attack and would now only be known as that poor son of a bitch who had killed his mother by having a social life. He realized then that he didn’t think he had ever told his mother about any of his dates before...not that he had gone on more than a handful, and he certainly hadn’t gone on any within the past five years. Oh Gods...what have a I done? Essek thought hopelessly. Why did I feel the need to tell her?  

“Really?” Dierta asked, sounding shocked and delighted and stopping Essek from texting his brother to go check on her. Essek could feel a headache coming on. “What’s her den? Her name? Her profession-” 

“Goodbye mother,” Essek said forcefully before hanging up the phone. 

Essek shook his head and fixed his tie, looking in the mirror one last time before grabbing his keys. The drive itself felt like the longest ten minutes of his life, but thankfully he wasn’t inundated with calls from his mother or the den demanding answers. When he got to the restaurant he was about five minutes early, just as he had planned. He confirmed with the host about his seat, and he was brought over to a table in a more private section of the restaurant. 

“Would you like to start with a drink, sir?” a waiter asked him. 

“Just water to start, I’ll wait for my companion before ordering anything,” Essek told him, and as the waiter smiled and went to do as Essek asked. He took a moment to put his phone on silent and tuck it away in his jacket pocket. He didn’t even want to think about seeing any of his mother’s texts or emails from work. For once, Essek was truly on his own time. 

It was a moment later that Caleb appeared, looking winded. He was dressed in a white cable knit sweater and tan slacks, his hair was half pulled back in a bun with red curls lapping at his neck. When he saw Essek he smiled, looking relieved. 

“I’m sorry, I got a bit caught up with the bakery,” Caleb said breathlessly. “Guten abend, Essek.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Essek said, motioning to the other seat in front of him. Caleb took it. “Thank you for joining me tonight.” 

“Please don’t thank me,” Caleb said with a warm...hopeful smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this since you asked me.”

“I...same,” Essek said, unable to come up with anything else to say really. What could he say? I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience but I’m in love with you and if you don’t love me back I’ll respect that but pine after you for the rest of my life like some sort of tragic widower waiting for her long lost husband who had been taken by the sea? Granted, that was all true, but it sounded pathetic when he laid it out like that. 

“I’ve never been here before,” Caleb said as he looked around. “I don’t think I’ve eaten traditional Xhorhassian food before either.”

“You haven’t?” Essek asked, surprised. 

“I have to admit...it’s a bit intimidating,” Caleb chuckled. “I grew up with a selection of eating potatoes, bread, and maybe a turnip or an apple for some variety.” 

“There’s a lot of fermenting...vegetables especially. Use of mushrooms, and of course, whatever animals that are natural to the region. Also, of course, rice. Tell me, how are you with spice?” 

“I’m fairly alright with spice,” Caleb said. 

“I have a few favorites here and I’d be happy to point them out to you, but, when the waiter comes back we can order drinks first. No need to rush,” Essek said, spying the waiter returning with water. “Order anything you’d like.” 

“This has to be one of the most expensive restaurants in the city,” Caleb said, sounding incredulous as he looked at the menu and did a double take. 

“And I’m paying for it,” Essek told him, crossing his legs. “Whatever you want, I’m completely serious.” 

“You shouldn’t-”

“Don’t argue with me, just enjoy this.” 

“Alright then...there’s a saying about a gift and a horse but I don’t remember how it goes. Ach, I don’t know enough about Xhorhassian liquor to make an educated decision,” Caleb said, mouth quirking in a teasing smile. “And I don’t know what would go best with any food.” 

“Well, for once I believe I have an idea. My personal favorite appetizer here is the Turtle Bone Soup, though, the spicy fried spider legs are quite good too. I’ve heard that...for your reference, turtles taste a bit like beef and spiders are like crab.” 

“Turtle?” Caleb asked with a surprised laugh. “I haven’t had a turtle before in that way...I’ll have to give it a try.” 

And so Essek ordered the two bowls of soup and a platter of the fried spider legs to share. As they waited they began to talk, first about the Mighty Nein itself. Essek couldn’t help but indulge his curiosity about what pit fighting must have been like. The answer was terrifying but very profitable. Caleb also recounted his first meeting with the other members of his friend group, laughing about how Jester had nearly broken all the windows in the bar with her demonstration of her magic. 

“So she is a cleric?” Essek asked, taking a spoonful of his soup. The food itself was delicious, the meaty savory broth a perfect pairing with the spicey sauce and sweet meat of the spider legs and the cold root vegetable slaw that they served on the side. It was strange...he had eaten this exact order before...but he could have sworn it hadn’t tasted as delicious. He wondered if there was a new chef. “I was wondering, though, I hadn’t recognized the symbol on her bracelet.”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned the Traveler to you yet,” Caleb noted. “She’s quite...taken with him, would be the best way to put it.” 

“My mother is the same way,” Essek commented with a sip of his wine. “She had always been a religious woman, so I’m used to spontaneous religious lectures.” 

“If it isn't rude to ask...what deity does your family worship?”

“The Luxon,” Essek said, “though I’m not religious...don’t tell my mother that though.” 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Is the rest of your family religious then?”

“It’s hard to say,” Essek sighed, swirling the wine in his glass. “My mother has had a few relationships in her life, she is long lived. I’m not particularly close to my half siblings as a result of them being...oh, about a hundred years older than me. My brother...well, I wouldn’t say he’s too religious but he’s more religious than me.” 

“You have a big family?”

“Technically. We are drow, blessed with long natural lives and large dens. It leads to relatively complex family trees and strange family get-togethers,” Essek explained. “What about you?” 

“I...ah…” Caleb said, a shadow quickly falling across Caleb’s features. Phantom pain twisted there, like Essek was rubbing salt into open wounds. “I lost my parents a while ago. The Mighty Nein is my family now.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Essek said, feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet. Unsure of how best to comfort him, Essek squirmed in his seat for a moment trying to think of a response. But Caleb did it for him, as he reached out and settled his fingers over Essek’s hand. Essek stared incredulously at Caleb for a moment, but didn’t move his hand. He couldn’t believe that Caleb was touching him, in a way that could only be read as romantic. He couldn’t believe this was happening. 

“It was a long time ago,” Caleb said, though he looked as haunted as a man who had just suffered the loss the day before. Essek wondered what it must be like to love someone else in such a way. He wondered if that was what he was feeling now for Caleb. Just feeling it for Caleb was overwhelming...he couldn’t imagine having felt like this so many times before in his life and then losing those he had come to adore. How did one bear it?  Just the thought was enough to twist his stomach...to make him want to make ridiculous promises to Caleb like the hero in a romantic drama. But Essek couldn’t do that...he was just Essek. All he could do was this.  

“Tell me about something else then, Caleb, how did you come about spellcasting?” Essek asked, ruefully extricating his hand from Caleb’s as the waiter came back to fill up their glasses of water. 

“Well, at first it wasn’t a hobby,” Caleb said. “Well, as a child I managed a few things with an old spell book my mother bartered from a passing merchant. But I did my compulsory years in the military, as do all men in the Empire. It was there that it was determined rather quickly that I had no talent as a soldier...but I could make a decent mage.” 

“I see,” Essek said. “In Xhorhassian schools you are given introductory courses to most known and legal methods of magic but most don’t stick with it nowadays. Wizardry is a relatively niche subject to pursue.” 

“But you did, didn’t you?” 

“I did, I was top in my class at the Marble Tomes Conservatory,” Essek said with a proud smile. “I...I have to admit...it’s been a long time since I’ve thought so frequently about magic. But I find myself thinking of it often when I’m with you...it makes me happy.” 

“Magic is what you love, ja? Have you ever just thought...fuck it? I’ll go back into it?” Caleb’s tone was light with humor. 

“The thought has crossed my mind before,” Essek admitted. “But I’m good at my job...I find it hard to justify leaving it to chase a dream.” 

“Forget your job for a moment,” Caleb said pointing at Essek with his spoon. “Imagine that money isn’t an issue. What is it that you are most interested in right now?” 

Right now? He thought about it. He was most interested in taking Caleb’s face in his hands and kissing him honestly, but Essek didn’t think that was the answer that Caleb was looking for. But if he was thinking of a socially acceptable answer to the question? 

“I’ve been thinking about the marzipan,” Essek admitted. 

“...the marzipan? I don’t follow.” 

“On the cake...for my bosses,” Essek said before sucking in a suddenly self-conscious breath. “Never mind, it’s foolish.” 

“Nein,  I want to hear it,” Caleb promised. 

“Well… you know how it was discussed that you were going to be using sculpted marzipan to shape into birds...and then utilize animate object?” Essek asked and Caleb nodded, following his thought. “I was thinking about using the spell adjust density to compliment it...give the appearance that the birds fly and then return to the cake.” 

“I’ve never heard of that spell,” Caleb said, sounding utterly enthralled. His food was forgotten in front of him as he leaned in closer to Essek, wide blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Is that from the school of dumaturgy?” 

“Yes, it’s a second level graviturgist spell.” 

“How fascinating,” Caleb said. “Tell me, how exactly does this spell work?” 

Thankfully this carried the conversation away from Essek and his career to magic, which Essek was far more comfortable discussing. Caleb was excited about the idea, but also seemed genuinely interested in the mechanics and the minutiae of such a low level spell. It was one of the first spells a graviturgist learned in school, and yet Caleb seemed content to discuss how the spell could work in congruity with a spell like flight to both lengthen and strengthen the effect. Essek wished, strangely, that he had brought his spellbook. Not that it would have been appropriate on any other first date, but now he felt foolish for not thinking of it. His wrist pocket nowadays was home to things like his car keys and his portable phone charger...not his spellbook.  

By the time dinner completed, they had managed to work through a few possible ideas on how Caleb could incorporate those spells into an already spell-heavy cake. Essek snapped the check out from Caleb grasp as the waiter set it down, sliding in his credit card before Caleb could even look at the bill. 

“Now that was conniving,” Caleb said. 

“I told you, I am happy to take care of it,” Essek said as the waiter returned and Essek signed the check. 

“Then let me treat you to something,” Caleb said. “Veth’s husband Yeza owns the Apothecary. Have you ever heard of it?” 

“No,” Essek admitted, frowning. 

“It is an old fashioned apothecary in the day, but a nice cocktail bar at night. It’s only a few blocks from here...let me get you a drink, only if you would like of course.” 

Caleb didn’t want this night to end either, Essek realized, hoping his excitement wasn’t plain to see on his face. He was, hopefully...as always...the picture of calm cool and collected. But beyond excited...it relieved Essek. Now it was so much easier to believe that perhaps...maybe...just maybe Caleb felt the same way that Essek did. 

“I cannot abide by the idea that there is a bar that I am not acquainted with in this city so I’ll take you up on your offer,” Essek said as he put on his jacket and looped his scarf. When he finished he looked to see Caleb opening the door for him, allowing Essek to duck out first. Essek looked at Caleb, noting his scarf was in complete disarray and motioned for Caleb to come closer. Essek reached up and relooped the strands until Caleb looked presentable. “There. Now you won’t freeze to death.” 

“I’m a little heartier than you might think,” Caleb laughed, cheeks and nose reddening in the cold. It made the dusting of freckles across his nose and his cheek more vivid, as did the shadow of his beard. He wondered what it was like to kiss a man with a beard. Essek had never done that before...

“Perhaps, but I’ve always been paranoid,” Essek admitted, trying to shake his mind from his desires for two minutes.  

Caleb walked them down three blocks exactly and turned them left once. Essek found that the night air...though cold, was thankfully grounding in these strange dreamlike times. It was nearly impossible to argue that this whole date...it had to be considered a date at this point... so far was just a figment of his imagination when the winter air was biting at his ears and making his earring jingle. They arrived at the Apothecary, as it was advertised on the street. 

The bar itself was pleasantly full, the building was a lot of warm exposed wood and lantern and candle lighting, with herbs hanging to dry and jars filled with various liquids in shelves on the walls. Couples and groups were seated at small circular tables and at the counter-bar. When they walked in, the halfling behind the bar perked up. Essek wasn't familiar with many halflings as they were still a new sight in Rosohna. The halfling man was balanced on a rolling stool. He wasn't traditionally handsome, but there was something immediately comforting about his appearance. He had an open friendly face, accompanied with a riot of untamed brown curls and sideburns, and round glasses that were precariously perched on his face. He grinned as Caleb walked up to the bad, and looked at Essek knowingly in a way that made his skin tingle. He wasn't sure what that meant but it wasn't a good sign. 

"Good evening, Yeza. I don't think you've met Essek. Essek, this is Yeza Bernatto, Veth's husband," Caleb introduced. 

"A pleasure," Essek said with a prim nod, before seeing the halfling's stocky hand pop out from behind the bar. 

"So this is the mysterious Essek! It's wonderful to meet you, my wife's spoke about you many times! Thank you for coming to the Apothecary," Yeza greeted, and Essek took the offered hand as gracefully as he could and quickly dropped it. "Veth will be back out in a minute, but in the meantime Caleb do you want your usual?" 

“Flight of Trost, ja,” Caleb said, his accent delicious on the word trost. Now that was something Essek wanted to drink down greedily. 

“Trost?” Essek repeated as Yeza slid the drink menu to him. 

“The word means comfort in Zemnian, but it’s a kind of beer,” Caleb said and Essek watched the halfling pour the four smaller glasses of beer and arrange them on the tray. “From a region famous in the Empire for it. Do you drink beer?”

“Not really,” Essek admitted, trying to refocus away from Caleb’s voice and back to reality. Beer in Xhorhas was a newer fad, and considering their abysmal track record of growing wheat, anything he had drank from Xhorhas had tasted watered down and stale. He had beers from the Empire before, at the luxurious parties put on by nouveau riche dens, but found it far less pleasant than other spirits. “I prefer wines and liquors.”   

“How about a Health Potion?” Yeza offered, having obviously been listening in to the conversation. 

“A health potion?” Essek asked incredulously. 

“I’m very clever with titles,” Veth said, appearing from the back carrying snacks for the couple on the other side of the bar. She settled her hands on her hips and presented herself like a queen in her own castle. “It’s mulled wine, perfect for this weather. We keep it on simmer in the back.” 

“Sure, I’ll have that then,” Essek said for lack of any other idea and because Veth was Caleb’s friend and Essek wanted them to like him for some reason he hadn’t quite figured out yet. He watched as Veth disappeared and then reappeared once more with a glass mug that she settled in front of him and then garnished with a cinnamon stick and a twist of orange rind. Mulled wine had to be a Empire thing...he hadn’t ever heard of heating wine. In fact, in Xhorhas they traditionally served wine at frigid temperatures and over ice. The liquid was a deep burgundy, and he prepared himself as he took a sip with all of the enthusiasm of a child taking a spoonful of cough syrup or an actual health potion. 

Instead, the drink was delicious. There were the fruity notes of apple cider and the brightness of oranges, the deep flavor of a red wine Essek had yet made the acquaintance of as well as the softer feel of perhaps a merlot and the caramel finish of a port, and had the kick of cinnamon and cloves and cardamom. It immediately transported him somewhere with a roaring fire and a fur rug and a good book tucked next to him by his favorite armchair. 

“What type of wine is this?” Essek asked. 

“It’s from Kamordah, not one the more expensive vineyards...those can cost you an arm and a leg. But even the affordable booze from there is delicious,” Veth said. 

“Veth’s the expert,” Caleb noted. 

“Oh come off it,” Veth said with a dismissive wave before leaning against the counter, her long braids sweeping against the wood. “Or, you can continue to compliment me, I don’t mind.” 

“We all know you are fabulous, my little friend,” Caleb said with a fond look in his eyes. “I knew it from the first time I met you.” 

“Out of everyone in that holding cell, I can assure you, I was the best pick.” 

“Holding cell?” Essek repeated, only because he thought he must have heard her wrong. But instead, Veth planted herself proudly in his view as if she could make herself three feet taller by just her confidence. 

“We met in jail,” Veth said cheerily for someone who had been to jail, and Caleb hung his head in exaggerated despair. Then, immediately she looked suspiciously at him. “You aren’t going to report me right?”

“I don’t care about that sort of thing,” Essek said.  

“Don’t tell him about my sordid past!” Caleb bemoaned. 

“What were you in jail for?” Essek asked, faking suspicion.  

“Public intoxication,” Veth said. 

“Loitering,” Caleb admitted. 

“Loitering?” Essek repeated. 

“Sleeping while poor,” Caleb corrected. “I was roughing it most nights back then, ja?” 

“We both were. But regardless, I’ll leave you two to it,” Veth said with a long knowing look at Caleb, which had Caleb blushing and hiding his face in his beer. Yeza had already drifted off to welcome more regulars to the bar. 

“I didn’t know I was out with a criminal tonight,” Essek said with a sidelong glance at Caleb.

“Don’t look so damned pleased with yourself,” Caleb grumbled. 

“Oh, I’m not smiling about your crimes...which are, I promise, nothing worse than I did in University. But, I’m more pleased at the thought of what my mother would say if she knew I was spending my evening with someone with an actual record of law breaking. I derive great pleasure from her pearl clutching,” Essek admitted with a grin that felt too sharp to be his usual placeholder. 

“Oh? What sort of crimes did a young Essek Theylss get up to in university?” Caleb asked curiously, finishing his first glass. 

“I made sure that everyone had what they needed at any given time,” Essek said with a smirk and a sip of his drink. “I have always been very good at cultivating relationships that benefit me. That’s what breaking the law while rich allows you to do.” 

“...if you weren’t being so hilarious I might be offended,” Caleb said with a laugh that resonated from his belly and filled Essek with warmth, like the simmering mulled wine in his cup. He felt pleasantly buzzed, like he was drunk from just a few sips. But it was Caleb’s presence that was so addicting...so effecting. He couldn’t even remember a time where he had smiled the way he was smiling now...when he hadn’t been with Caleb or the Mighty Nein. He didn’t think anyone had ever called him hilarious. He was sure that if his coworkers or his family heard Caleb say that they would have had Caleb checked in for psychiatric help, and the Essek before wouldn’t have blamed them. But Essek was slowly becoming acquainted with the person he could be around Caleb and perhaps it was the person Essek actually was but not buried under the mounds of baggage he carried from place to place like it was the gravity pulling him straight to the center of the earth. And the more Essek was becoming acquainted with Caleb and acquainted with himself the more Essek didn’t ever want to go back.    

“Perhaps you should be,” Essek dared because apparently Essek was daring now, another recent development that surprised him. Caleb’s eyes had a little heat in them as Essek caught his gaze, and Essek was thrilled because they were flirting and it was going well and it didn’t make Essek feel like he wanted to find the closest window to jump out of. Essek settled his hand on Caleb’s where it was resting on his chair. Caleb didn’t move it, instead he took another sip of his drink and intertwined his fingers with Essek’s. Essek blushed into his cup with his words stuck in his throat, but felt that this could certainly be enough. 

And so Essek soaked up the next hour or so of Caleb’s company. They talked about a wide berth of topics, from philosophy to mathematics to even theoretical spellcrafting. That was the gift of Caleb, he was always able to meet him where his mind was going and find something interesting to say. He was quite unlike anyone else that Essek had ever known. What a gift it was to be able to just be with someone who understood you. It was something that Essek was learning to cherish. But at some point he noticed Caleb’s eyes drooping, and took note of the time. 

“I should be heading home now,” Essek said, and before Essek could attempt to pay for this as well Veth waved at Caleb. 

“It’s on Caleb’s tab,” Veth said, and Essek gave Caleb a look which he met with feigned cluelessness.  

“Let me walk you back to your car,” Caleb said as he stood. 

“There’s no need for that, you are going in the opposite direction,” Essek pointed out to him as they left the bar and stood on the street. Snowflakes drifted into streetlights, casting pale light that made Caleb’s eyes a vivid dark shade. “Thank you...for tonight. I had a wonderful time.” 

“I would be happy to do it again any time,” Caleb promised him, standing close to him now...far more close then Essek could ever have imagined him being. “Your company is truly a great pleasure...there are very few people that I can talk to the way I do with you. I...I hope you feel the same way.” 

“I do,” Essek is what he said. I love you, is what he meant. 

For a moment that Essek swore was suspended in the air, they shared something heavier than a breath...a kiss that was almost softer than a kiss. It set his heart fluttering so he couldn’t have imagined it...the sensation of Caleb’s scruff and the warmth of his hand was too vivid for him to have made it up. It was inquisitive and gentle and all Essek’s and he wouldn’t ever trade it for anything. 

I love you, Essek’s heart said as it finally found its rhythm between Caleb’s kisses. I love you.

[sormikbigbang]

Masterpost

We’ve come to the end of the SorMik Big Bang 2019! Before we move on to the master post for 2019, we would like to express our sincerest thanks to all of you. It has been a wild ride and us mods couldn’t thank our participants enough for being such lovely people to work with. There’ll also be a feedback form the participants can fill in! The link will be distributed through email and shared in our discord server. We would like to know how you think about us and how you would like us to improve through our feedback form!

If you missed your chance this year, don’t worry, we’ll be back again in 2020! Do stay tuned for some exciting information on where this event will be going next year!

Without further ado, here’s the master post for all entries of SorMik Big Bang 2019!

Masterpost

(Announcement: Not all artists/writers have posted their works yet, so this masterpost will be updated gradually as they post until everyone has posted.)

As Soft as Feathers by Kagaminekupcake | Art by Melly Mel (still yet to be posted) & KimmySnacks

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:  Two kingdoms lay near one another, and with the queens sharing a friendship, they thought it only natural to continue the friendly relations through their successors. Prince Sorey and Prince Mikleo grew up, therefore, spending their summers together and sharing memories over the pages of dusty novels. However, upon Sorey’s near coronation, Selene informs Mikleo that she plans to betroth him to a princess of another land. Mikleo argues heatedly with her before storming out of the castle, but he was never seen afterwards. All Sorey could find in the rain was his circlet- a prized possession he knew Mikleo would never leave behind. Maybe the swan he discovers in the forest in the following days can give him a clue as to where Mikleo has gone…

Fanfic still yet to be posted by Dola625 | Art by  mallowkey 

Ranting:  General Audiences

Summary:  Luvdisc love fortune has set its sight upon a pair of childhood friends who need just an extra push with tons of water, a sunset and of course Mikleo and newly smitten Luvdisc.

La Fragilité Des Grues en Papier by Naminette | Art by Kinsdura

Ranting: Mature

Summary:  Was it possible that his mother's tales were true?  A sacred mountain where the Kamis' sanctuary lay. Away from the human world they lived in. Wings adorn their back, divine beings that were one with nature. This is were Mikleo place was, where he would be safe and happy. Until years after a plague broke into the village in the valley and a young human had no choice left but to seek the gods' help without knowing how it would change Mikleo's world.

Everything you left behind by Strikedawn | Art by Retto

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: After his uncle's death, Mikleo is forced to run away from his office for the weekend and tend to Camlann, Michael's old manor and his own childhood home. The house has seen better times-- Mikleo definitely won't be able to sell it like this.

(Does he even want to?)

But his uncle's metaphorical ghost isn't the only thing within those walls. There is Lailah and Zaveid, who have made of Camlann their house as much as Michael did. There is Sorey, with his lovely smile, his pure intentions, and his love for the decrepit house. They are everywhere in the house, making it theirs, making Mikleo feel... things. Mikleo definitely won't be able to sell the house like this.

(But then again--does he even want to?)

Demons, Mysteries, and Feathery Celestialness by Sage | Art by Oliver Niko & Vonderer

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:  Sorey is a cop. When his current case turns out to involve elements both demonic and angelic, he suddenly finds himself both in over his head and with a new partner. Neither he nor the angel Mikleo are particularly happy to be saddled with each other. Can they work through their differences to solve the case?

Moon Phases by Melly Mel | Art by Raine 

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: "The Sun has long fallen in love with the Moon and has done everything in his reach to conquer its heart, but the timid and stubborn Moon has always rejected it, afraid of these feelings. Time will teach that one cannot simply ignore such a strong and true love for so much time."

A story that tells how Sorey, the sun prince, falls ill for love after so many years trying to conquer the love of Mikleo, the moon prince, who’s not willing to believe him and misunderstand everything.

Fountain of Youth, the Elixir of Eternal Life by MegumitheGreat | Art by ZYO

Ranting: Explicit

Summary: At Lailah's request, Sorey and Mikleo take a break from their adventure and go through Pendago Shrinechurch's library. Coming across a legend titled "Shelanoir's Forest", they find themselves trapped within its pages and living the roles of the characters inside.

Resonance and Resistance by Eachainn | Art by Illium

Ranting: Mature

Summary: After eight years apart, Mikleo is more than ready to pick of the threads of the hopes and dreams that they had left drop when Sorey had left for Pendrago. But things are rarely that easy, especially when the Shepherds are involved. After all, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a Shepherd in possession of a good resonance must be in want of a seraph.

A Sormik Regency Era AU

Chasing Dreams by RoyalDelirium | Art by Mewnia

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: And this is where their tale begins, they did not really know what would await them out there, but they had dreams to chase and questions to answer. As long as they were together nothing could escape their grasp.

The Best Tour by  Spectrum-sanctuary | Art by ArdentKnight & Unko (still yet to be posted)

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: In the archaic city of Ladylake where there are more canals than brick pathways, boats called gondolas are the major mode of transportation and location of work. The most renowned of these occupations are those who guide tourists around the romantic and historic marvels of the city while rowing the gondolas, the gondoliers.

Seventeen-year-old Mikleo is among them, renowned for not only being young but also graceful and skilled with the oar. When he meets the newly-arrived student Sorey in the city, his usual life among the waves and ruins transforms into a tale of adventure and excitement... and perhaps even love.

The Gang Crashes a Party While in Drag by Pengiesama | Art by Nami & Minstrels

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: Sorey and the crew investigate reports of a black market trafficking ring, and zero in on a particularly nasty noble at the center of it all. Luckily, said noble is opening his chateau to host a masquerade – the perfect opportunity to get close. Unluckily, the Shepherd’s fame has spread wide, and Sorey needs a disguise to make sure he’s incognito.

This is achieved by the obvious solution, and that's to disguise him in a dress and pass him off as Rose's sister. What could possibly go wrong?

Sir Sorey and the River Dragon by Treya-barton | Art by Kishi

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: Sir Sorey is a curious, gentle knight from the kingdom of Ladylake ruled by a fair and beautiful Queen. One day she is approached by a village with news that they are being plagued by a dragon that is blocking their access to a river they use for trade. Sir Sorey is sent on a quest to investigate this dragon in order to resolve the villager's dilemma.

The Benefits of Being Impulsive by  FortunesRevolver | Art by Aimi

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: It had all started out of sheer spite -- Sorey’s own bizarre desperate need to prove to his grandfather that he wasn’t that impulsive. Really, if he really wanted impulsive, Sorey could be impulsive. Or, maybe, somewhere deep down, he’d just wanted to talk to the really, really pretty boy sitting by the pool with stunningly white hair who just happened to be holding a copy of his favorite book series ever.

Art by MegumitheGreat (Their writer wasn’t able to get to finish due to personal reasons, but still asked MegumitheGreat to post their art anyway because it’s so cool!) 

Trust, Betrayal and Beyond by Sabi | Art by Mikleohno

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: A long time ago, the country was separated into two factions: the Lotus faction and the Lily faction. Both factions had opposing ideals, which resulted in a war that lasted for decades. The war finally ended when the Lotus faction killed the Lily faction’s leader, thus bringing peace back to the land. Our story takes place a century later, focusing on Mikleo, the prince of the kingdom, who is doing everything he can to repair this country, as well as his new servant, Sorey, whose background is shrouded in mystery.

Eyes on the Horizon by Oliver Niko | Art by Siciel

Ranting: Mature

Summary: Mikleo is a nobleman kept captive for the magic he possesses. Sorey is a pirate, his crew determined to grant freedom to those with said magical capabilities.

The two are brought together not by this alone, but also by their similarities; the goal to do whatever it takes to protect Rolance's people from its corrupt emperor, and find the truth behind their missing mothers along the way.

The Color of Twilight by Luneath | Art by Succu (still yet to be posted)

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: “Ever since that day, Sorey has been looking for something. Desperately, yearningly, painfully. It's like chasing after a dream that’s hiding underneath his eyelids, almost there but not really. Just within reach, but could never be grasped fully. It’s like running after a figure — a blurred one, tinted blue, who owns half of his soul; his heart and his life. But he can’t remember. He knows, but never for sure. He just feels his heartstrings being tugged, but never to where or by whom. The more he tries to make sense of everything, the more he realizes it would hurt more to never find whatever’s — whoever’s gone. The only thing that gives him hope is the writing on his palm, tattooed in elusive curves that makes him feel warm and safe and nostalgic and a little like breaking. What’s written there, the meaning and the purpose — he doesn’t understand it at first. Not until some time. But even then, he swears he’s going to find whatever it is. And when he does, he’s never letting it go ever again."

[A Kimi no Na Wa (Your Name) AU featuring time travel, fluffy angst, switching bodies and switching lives, plus true loves and true names.]

Fanfic still yet to be posted by Miranda | Art by Okke (still yet to be posted) & Narain Yuna

Ranting: Explicit

Summary:  Clergyman!Sorey x Non-Believer!

Mikleo The heavy wooden doors opened and closed with an echo throughout the chapel, all but empty save for the decorative lanterns with the names of the twelve apostles lining the pillars leading up to the alter, the hand-carved plaques in the right-wing hallway depicting the Stations of the Cross of the same number donated by the generous family, and the overwhelming but whole-fully welcomed presence of Him which he felt. 

Sorey loved getting to do this-- well, he loved pretty much every aspect of his stay here as part of his training, but this was probably one of his top favorites: waking up to the early morning sun and say his morning prayers, picking some berries from his little garden as part of his breakfast before freshening up, and coming down to the church before Gramps arrived to start the day. He wasn't sure what made him want to say another morning prayer in the chapel when there was no need whatsoever. Perhaps it was simply just seminary habits or wanting the chapel to feel less... big? Lonely?

Or dusty? 

He chuckled at the thought and shaking his head, and joyfully continued to walk towards the alter. Thinking back to his childhood, it use to be a dark green stone like the rest of the flooring. In it's place now was a white marble with gray veins scattering sparingly here and there. Gramps wasn't sure who thought it was a good idea, and Sorey didn't really pay it much attention.

As he approached the alter and began to kneel, pulling out his mini prayer booklet from his pocket, the front double doors opened and closed yet again. Hm, strange, Sorey thought for a moment. Normally Gramps doesn't come in this early since traffic from... 

When he turned around to greet the wise old man who practically raised him from birth, Sorey was taken aback to see a young man with long dyed hair, faded black skinny jeans, and a somewhat revealing white and blue sweater with a v-neck that fell to show the side of his collar bone. Wait, was it dirty...?

It could've been the way he seemed to hold himself together-- just barely and could hardly seem like he wasn't shaking. It could've been the way his eyes, a deep blue from this distance, almost pleaded for mercy and safety. It could've just as easily been the way the light hit his unblemished face, his aquamarine tresses... 

Sorey knew, deep down, that he would never forget this moment. Someone or something must have whispered something to his heart or to his soul that day, to never let this memory go.

Fanfic still yet to be posted by Mogseltof | Art by Lynxlantern & Ammerynth (still yet to be posted)

Ranting: Mature

Summary: Since he was young, Sorey’s been friends with the curious, withdrawn sailor everyone in his seaside town avoids. Now he’s an adult, struggling to find material for his research, but his withdrawn friend has recently been made captain of his ship, and Sorey is offered the opportunity he’s been looking for -- the chance to get out of his town and see the places he’s actually researching. But Sorey has another reason to want to be out on the sea; they say there are mermaids in the waves, and Sorey has to know if his memories ring true, or if he imagined the boy in the river so many years ago. However, the voices of the dead sing loudly from the deep, and the captain is hiding something that may get them all in trouble.

We hope you enjoy the masterpieces made by our talented participants! See you again next year!

[alleiradayne]

While I 100% agree that's its frustrating and a little sad to see fics where toxic behavior is rewarded, because to me it suggests the author isn't necessarily aware the behavior is toxic, it seems extreme to tell people they can't or shouldn't write it? I also 100% agree with the article you linked with depiction vs endorsement and how is frustrating to see media only portray one type of "strong" woman. But I hold fanfic and mass media to different standards. (Not to say fanfic isn't a valid art form and can't be as good/meaningful as published works.) But what people write in their free time for their own reasons and what a company chooses to market and sell are different things. As long as people are tagging toxic/abusive relationships, they shouldn't have to worry about whether they have "properly" punished or rewarded a character. Saying otherwise is just fandom policing. I have sympathy for anyone who has real life experience with toxic/abusive relationships and finds that sort of content triggering or disturbing and that's why it should be tagged. I'm sorry if I am coming off rude, I was just a little taken aback when I saw that post. I thought I had seen other posts on your blog against fandom policing.

I get what you’re saying and that’s why I included caveats to my statements. People are absolutely allowed to show the very real toxic behaviors that they’ve been exposed to or subjected to in their lives. It’s cathartic, it’s a coping mechanism, and it’s almost obligatory of us to depict the atrocities that people commit because the representation of the victims and survivors of those atrocities is incredibly important. Except it has to be a representation that speaks truth to those victims/survivors. For some folx, yeah that truth is nobody helped them and nobody called out their abuser. But that then needs to be reflected in the narrative so no one conflates the depiction with romanticizing the behavior. Now I totally understand that people are frequently unaware of what they’re writing. I would argue that the only way they’re going to learn that their writing has a problematic message is for them to receive well structured, actionable feedback (read: not abusive and useless criticism). This is not always easy to provide nor is it easy to accept. Most people aren’t open to feedback because the feedback they’ve experienced has been largely unhelpful or was rude/mean. I’m definitely NOT condoning sending unsolicited feedback to people, don’t ever do that, that’s rude.

I think I hold fanfiction to a higher standard than I do mass media because it doesn't have to live up to corporate standards for the appropriate amounts of Drama ™ and Shock ™ and Plot Twists ™ that most folks pay to see. This conversation on how to appropriately handle dark content, specifically toxic behaviors, is complicated and definitely worth discussing. I would never attempt to police someone’s writing by telling them they absolutely cannot write about trauma or toxic behavior or abuse because they’re doing it wrong. That is incredibly unhelpful. But I cannot stress it more that creators really should be careful to ensure that their writing doesn’t romanticize problematic topics.

In reality, there’s nothing I can actually do about it. I’d never personally message someone directly and say “Your writing is problematic and you need to fix it” because that’s rude af. But if someone reached out to me and said, “My writing is being called problematic but I don’t understand. What’s going on?” I’d love to help.

This is a hard topic to discuss because it does start to feel like people are being told what they can and cannot write. But I promise you I would never attempt to do that. I don’t think you came off as rude at all. I am all about not policing fandom but I am about holding people accountable for contributing to problematic shit (even if they’re not aware of it). But again, I’m not going to do that in an unsolicited fashion because for fanfic and fandom, most of us aren’t getting paid and this is stuff we create in our free time. So the only place I’ll ever talk about it is on my blog (or with someone’s permission to reblog their content, like how I did with @peridottea91‘s original post) or if a creator asked for my feedback or feedback in general.

I could talk about this topic all day but wizard needs food.

[antis-delete-your-blogs-pls-thx]

I posted my previous reply to the wrong blog, and then found I was blocked on this one, so uh. Shit. Here’s the reply.

“however, because huge swaths of fandom (ugh) fail to actually underpin their opinions with any concrete understanding of… anything, really, but especially the mechanisms that drive systemic oppression, you get people mobilizing the ideals of “freedom” and the language of “social justice” in order to completely erase the fact that, yeah, there absolutely are huge piles of fics that in an ideal world should be burned to the ground.”

Mmmm, no. You don’t get to say that and then act like you’ve got a solid foundation to your points. I mean, not that I’m going to be particularly keen on thinking an argument is in good faith when you can’t even say fandom without air quotes. Yes, it’s called fandom. I’m sorry? I thought cringe culture was dead.

You should never, never advocate for the burning of fiction. I’m sure you’re joking, or at the very least I hope you are, but an ideal world does not burn books. Unless you’re comfortable living in an ideal world that shares methodology with fascist dictatorships, because book burning -- metaphorical or otherwise -- is the first step in running one. Or haven’t you been noticing the influx of Chinese users to AO3? It’s the only place that’s not burning them in their country.

There is no unchecked swath of illegal fanfic on AO3. The OTW has its very own legal team. Of fully licensed, not black market, professionally educated lawyers. Under U.S. jurisdiction (AO3 is subject to this jurisdiction), everything within the guidelines and terms of use on the site is absolutely, 100% legal. That doesn’t mean people will never post illegal content there, but people post illegal content on Facebook, and Tumblr, and Twitter, and every internet hive of scum and villainy available. Even the most vile, disgusting, sickening fanfiction published is 100% legal. Because we all have the legal right to write whatever fictional scenario we please. And I’m sure I’ll get called Enlightened Centrist for bringing up the freeze peach, but in a purely legal context, this is all protected under the very first amendment to the U.S. constitution.

If we move to talk about terms of purely social responsibility, that’s a different and more nuanced conversation. But let the legal conversation be made very clear. Fanfiction is not illegal. If Lolita is on your library shelves, Karen’s Kuroshitsuji shota fic on an internet archive somewhere that doesn’t market itself as an accessible location for toddlers to the eldery is hardly a breach of legality. Or morality, in fact. Which brings us to...

Is said Kuroshitsuji shota fic written by Karen McBasic perpetuating pedophile apologist rhetoric? Not more than Steven Universe is perpetuating facist apologist rhetoric. Not more than Stephen King is personally responsible for any murder or rape inspired by his works. Or more than JD Salinger is a serial murder apologist for having written Catcher in the Rye, a book which inspired multiple murders (despite not even depicting murder, which really does prove that anything can inspire anything else in a sick enough mind). And I’m not saying every single work depicting underage sex was written by purely innocent-intentioned, pedophile-hating saints, because of course creeps and actual pedophiles have sat down and written stories with the intention of normalising it for themselves. But people with dangerous impulses have been rationalising their feelings since the dawn of dangerous impulses. And people. So coming after fanfiction, which yes, punch me if you will (despite me being a queer survivor of an abusive relationship, hardly the creepy straight white middle-aged woman-demon fandom elder of nightmares), is a primarily queer space, is hardly going to stop the abuse and exploitation of children. And it’s hardly going to stop the abuse and exploitation of children in fandom, either. Because fandom exists beyond AO3. And fandom exists beyond Tumblr. And fandom has existed since fictional stories have been spread in human culture, which is approximately since humans began to communicate. And fandom is just one tool in a toolbox that consists of everything that exists in tangible reality for abusers to use in manipulating and hurting their victims. All it’s going to do is promote censorship in one of the only open, previously-welcoming spaces for queer people and other marginalised groups -- including the survivors who are trying to work through their trauma using fiction. Especially including the CSA and other abuse (hi!!! I’m right fucking here!!!) survivors who do not want you punching people on their behalf, because they use this very medium as a way of healing.

You should certainly say fiction has an impact on reality, because it does. And you should absolutely say writing harmful tropes in fiction is not a move primed to stop the reinforcement and validation of societal biases, because it isn’t. But you cannot start holding people accountable for the actions of abusers unless they are, in fact, that very abuser themselves. You can argue for the basic human decency of being aware of the content you produce and its impact, but I’m afraid making that argument in fandom spaces is rather like telling an English teacher to be aware of grammar mistakes. We know. Why do you think we have meta? Or content tags? Because your local library doesn’t have trigger warnings, extensive tagging or blacklisting systems, or multiple warning pages you must manually disable telling you what work has adult content. It has a separate section for each genre, that any impressionable child (a demographic which is encouraged to come to libraries everywhere!!!!) is free to wander through and grab whatever copy of Flowers in the Attic happens to be in sight. Content warnings are optional in libraries. Content warnings are not optional on AO3.

[cassandraclare]

Malecparty, Red Scrolls, and women writing for money.

havisha1212 said: Hi, I just want to say that i've been seeing a lot of discourse online. [There are those] trying to boycott RSOM because apparently they know that your intentions with the book are to get money, even though you were offered more money to write Clace. I just want to say that you have thousands, if not in the millions of people who understand that you write what you want to write. WE LOVE YOU and we appreciate you.

I appreciate the love, truly. Of course I’m also distressed to hear about a boycott of The Eldest Curses, since it will be a book with a main interracial gay couple and a secondary interracial lesbian love story. A vendetta specifically targeting a book like that won’t be seen by the outside world of publishing as an act of support for something else. It would be seen as exactly what they expect — a lackluster interest in books about LGBT+ characters.

I guess there are a few things to talk about here: one is the realistic situation of LGBT+ kids’ publishing and one is about women’s writing. In terms of the first, it’s very strange to suggest I wrote these books for money when I did, as you say, take a pay cut to write them. I was paid a third of what I was paid for the Dark Artifices to write them though they are the same number of books. I was paid less than what I was paid for my adult Sword Catcher series which features a world and characters no one has any familiarity with at all — a completely unknown brand. Many of my international publishers still won’t publish TEC. One bought it and has as of now cancelled the deal, though they have bought different books from me since. There are a thousand things I could have written or done that would have made me more money. That’s the stark reality of the “cash cow” the boycotters are discussing. 

Someone in Hollywood once described Alec’s being gay to me as “a strike against the character’s likeability.” So far in publishing I have experienced publishing TEC as “a strike against its marketability.” As you all know, it was pushed back: that was because my publisher wanted Queen of Air and Darkness to come out first and set a record of strong sales — while they support the books completely, they want to be as pro-active as possible about getting diverse books front of as many people as possible.

I’m in a lucky position; I’m a bestselling author and if these books don’t sell at all, my career can take the hit. That’s partly why I’m writing them now, when I finally can: I think it’s important to make sure books like this are placed front and center in bookstores as expected bestsellers, but if these books blow up on me, I’ll survive it. Other writers who are writing books with LGBT+ content wouldn’t be so lucky, and the message of boycotting a “big” book with a gay main couple isn’t “We don’t like this author” (because my other books are doing just fine) — it’s “We don’t like this subject matter.” (It is also a strange punishment for Wes Chu, my cowriter, often forgotten in these debates — a man of color writing about another man of color.)

I am of course not saying anyone who doesn’t want to read these books should buy them. We should consume the entertainment we think should entertain us; that’s what it’s for. But the idea of punishing female writers for their moral failings is an old and unfortunate one. It’s always been acceptable for men to write for money, or for attention; “she wanted attention” is one of the worst things you can say about a woman, but an inoffensive thing to say about a man. Similarly I’ve often been told online that I don’t deserve to be paid for what I write, or that my creative work should be taken away from me and given to men. It has always been expected since the Victorian era that writing about complex people and complex stories is a man’s job, and women should write simple moralistic tales in which the good are rewarded and the bad are punished. When a good character in a man’s book does something wrong, he is congratulated for his complexity; I get told at great length how morally terrible I am personally, since female writers are not generally assumed to have the emotional distance from their characters that with men, is a given.

The roots of taking away women’s ability to profit from their work goes back centuries into the idea that it’s evil for women to own intellectual property at all. One of my favorite writers, Colette, died in poverty because her husband owned the copyright to her bestselling books. There is a deep discomfort with the idea of a woman being paid what she’s worth at all. Writers are entertainers and they don’t work for free any more than singers or actors or TV showrunners. I am the sole breadwinner of my family and I support my parents and others with the income I derive from working on the intellectual property I create. A man would be congratulated on his success. I am called a money-grubbing bitch. A man would be credited for his work. I get people spitting at me that Red Scrolls is “fanfic”, as if these were not characters I created myself, so intense is the need to shame women for the act of creation and the desire to take it away from them.

One of the reasons we self-published Ghosts of the Shadow Market was because I wanted to write a novella about a genderqueer lesbian and I wanted it to get the same attention as the other stories in small invisible ways sometimes readers don’t even notice — the same time spent on the cover, the same hiring of a great audio reader, the same time being edited, the same advertising. When EET came out we all sat around wringing our hands and hoping it would at least sell half as much as the others: it sold just as well, and we were thrilled. We can hang onto those numbers. We can prove important points in future to the publishing world about the viability of non-binary LGBT+ characters. Sales do matter. The Red Scrolls of Magic is a book, and sales expectations are higher for books than short stories, so I know I will be in the same state of fear and hope when it comes out.

But the fact Every Exquisite Thing did well means something else, too: I believed there was an audience for it, and every person who bought it proved me right. The outpouring of love during the contest for an early Red Scrolls of Magic copy was amazing, and I scrolled through the #malec and #malecparty tags (thank you so much you guys! Winners will be notified!) with tears in my eyes, overwhelmed by readers’ stories of coming out and having their eyes opened to new ideas, and most of all by their love. Before I ever had attention or money, I had the joy of creation. One of the most amazing feelings when writing is to make up people, and to have real people invest in your inventions. I created Magnus and Alec, building them into characters I could love block by block, and yesterday I got to see other people love them too. I have been awed by and grateful for the support of every reader who has embraced the diverse world I have tried to create, and the increasing diversity I try for as I keep on writing and am allowed to have more freedom in what I write than when I first began and was turned down by publishers because I wouldn’t remove Alec from my books. I am hoping to help change attitudes and create, along with many writers and readers who believe that diverse media makes a difference, a world in which a book with a main LGBTQ pairing will be judged purely on its literary merits. We’re not there yet! I wish we were. But the increasing call for and support for diverse literature makes me hope we are getting there. I trust in my readers. I have to believe that anybody calling for a boycott of The Red Scrolls of Magic is in a small hateful minority who has lost sight of how their actions would be perceived by the world, and the effect their actions would have on the world. I have to believe that there are far more people who are open to loving and supporting diverse stories.

Money and attention are great. But in the end, I write because I do believe words have the power to change people, and change the world. Ultimately, I have to do what I think is the right thing, and trust that other people will too. My readers haven’t let me down yet.  

[I decided to remove the part about the television show from the original ask. Unfortunately the asker has been forced to delete their tumblr because of responses to this post, and so I cannot ask them for clarification. I hope they are all right.

This answer is in response to this ask and others like it — it was not the only one — about people having decided to boycott Red Scrolls because they believed it was “an attempt to make money”. Their alliances aren’t important and I’m getting the sense this may have been an attempt to drag me into a fight I’m not interested in having and which I have deliberately avoided knowing or saying anything about since the show was cancelled. I’m interested in talking about keeping diverse lit front and center, and I’m interested in talking about how female creators are treated, online and off. I am irritated — and partially with myself — for having been dragged into internecine warfare between fans of different things. It’s not my place to opine on those things or on the fighting itself. I also removed the word “stan” from the original ask as I think it’s an insult. Fans are fans, whatever they like.]

[mingyoozi]

Vernon: Covetous

Summary: I didn’t actually intend for this to be fanfic I was just trying to do some prompt writing that focused on sense exposition and it turned into this hot mess 

The air was filled with the damp smell of dawn. The sun was rising in the horizon and there was a layer of fog lingering so low that it almost touched the ground. It was the middle of October, closer to winter than it was to summer, and the early morning silence was eerie. Your window was covered in a thick film of condensation, built up over a long night of not being able to sleep. It was cracked open, enough that your room wasn’t suffocatingly hot but you were still protected from the bite of the early morning atmosphere.

Your mind had been busy all night, plagued by deep brown irises flecked with gold and the smell of something masculine yet subtle. The silence was unwavering.

“Can’t sleep?”

You hadn’t even heard your door open or shut again. You froze, not wanting to give yourself up.

“Don’t just sit there and pretend,” He said. “These walls are thin. I’ve been listening to you toss and turn all night.”

He took a seat on the corner of your bed and placed a hand delicately at the nape of your neck. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Hansol had been your roommate for three years, but you’d been friends for longer. You’d seen him pine after girls, have his heart crushed, and then patched back up again. If someone had told you years ago that you’d fall in love with him, you would’ve laughed in their face. However, at the stroke of dawn, it was an idea that was so real it haunted you.

“A lot,” You said.

“And nothing all at once?” He finished. He pushed at your legs. “Scooch.”

You made room for him and he nestled himself up against you, under your blankets. He’d showered before he went to bed, and the scent of his body wash still lingered. Or maybe it was yours. You’d shared the same space for so long that it had become hard to tell where he ended and you began.

“Hansol,” You started, turning to face him. Looking at him so close up was something that you seldom did, and the vision of his skin glistening in the warm early morning lighting made your breath catch in your throat. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we’d never met each other?”

He sighed to himself, but the corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. “I think I’d just be sad. You make me a better person. And I wouldn’t have met Chae.” He says.

You gulped down the lump in your throat. “How’s Chaeyoung doing? I haven’t heard from her in a while.” You say. His smile grows wider.

“She’s great. I think she misses you.” He said, his voice brimming with affection. You could tell how much she meant to him.

You moved closer, resting your head on his chest. He let you, lacing a hand through your hair and pressing his fingers to your scalp. It had been one of the only ways to get you to fall asleep on sleepless nights for as long as you can remember. And it always had to be Hansol.

“I know you think that she abandoned you for me or the other way around, but I promise she still thinks you’re her knight in shining armour or whatever.” He said.

You snorted. “She’s my best friend. She’s my knight in shining armour, too.” You said. You could feel your bones starting to weigh down into your bed.

Hansol pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you started to feel yourself drifting into a sleep-like lull. “Thank you for letting me be her prince.” He said.

It’s the last thing you remember when you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and an empty heart.

-

“I’m so glad I caught you.” Chaeyoung says. She settles down onto the couch next to you.

Hansol had texted you while you were out getting coffee, telling you that Chaeyoung came around and you now required a third beverage in your order.

Chaeyoung lifts a cup from the tray and brings it to her lips. As soon as she takes a sip, she wrinkles her nose. “Nope. That’s definitely yours.” She says, passing it over to you.

You giggle. “I’m sorry that my taste in coffee offends you.”

“I can see why you and Hansol get along.” She says, as if she’s known him for longer than she’s known you.

“Yes, Chae. Our mutual love for black americanos is what’s kept us friends since we were kids.” You say.

She doesn’t sense the sarcasm in your voice and she giggles instead. She grabs the right cup of coffee this time, a sweetened cappuccino that you would probably be drinking if you weren’t so sleep deprived. You sit in silence for a minute before she speaks again, but it’s a comfortable silence that you’ve grown used to with her. Sometimes, you’ll sit in the same room for hours without speaking, but her company alone has always been comforting.

“You’re okay, though? Your meds— Hansol told me you haven’t been sleeping well. Is there something on your mind?” She asks, gnawing at her lips.

You sigh. “When have I ever slept well? I’m fine, Chaeyoung.” You say.

She nods and you return to your silence until you hear the creak of the shower turning off. Hansol steps out of the bathroom in his towel, grabs his coffee and presses a kiss to Chaeyoung’s forehead, and then retreats to his own room.

“I’m gonna go…” She trails off. You nod your head in acknowledgement; you know what she means. “Text me, yeah? I know I haven’t been around much lately, but I’m always here for you whenever you’re ready to talk.”

You nod again, staring down at the lip of your coffee cup so she doesn’t see the way that your eyes glaze over with tears. You can feel it building in your throat, and you try so hard to choke it down even after she’s gone. But when Hansol’s door clicks shut, your resolve shatters.

-

The transition into winter brings the smell of spices and pine trees. You and Hansol set up your little Christmas tree on a slow weekend, just the two of you and two mugs of hot chocolate. Christmas music is playing in the background constantly, and the glow of the Christmas tree greets you when you walk into your apartment on the darker afternoons.

“Your gift has been ordered.” Hansol mumbles one morning with a piece of toast half hanging out of his mouth. He’s clearly still half asleep and his hair is a mess.

You giggle. “Were you awake when you ordered it?” You tease. He swallows his toast and grins at you.

“I cannot confirm nor deny.” He says.

You trudge over to him and glue yourself to his back in a lump. He holds a piece of toast over his shoulder for you to take a bite out of and you chomp on it lazily while he massages the arm that you’ve slung around his waist.

“Chaeyoung and I are going to the Christmas market later. You coming?” He asks. He’s inhaled his toast in a matter of minutes, and he tries to maneuver his way to the sink with his empty plate while still keeping you blanketed over his body.

You freeze, trying to pull yourself away from him but he keeps his iron grip on your arms. “I have exams to study for.” You say. It’s a lie, all your exams ended last week and Hansol knows.

He sighs. “Will you please just tell me what’s going on with you? I’m getting really tired of guessing and I’m running out of ideas.” He says.

“Hansol, I—“ You start, but he cuts you off. He sounds angry, and you can’t really blame him.

“Do you like Chaeyoung? I’m sorry that I asked her out, but it’s almost been a year and you said you were okay with it when we started dating.” He says.

You feel your face start to get hot. You pull away from him, bringing your arms up against your chest like he’s burnt you. “What? Hansol, what are you talking about?”

“You always freeze up when I talk about her and you never hang out with us anymore. If you like her just tell me and I’ll break it off.” He yells.

Your stomach drops and his words start to ring in your ears. “Does she really mean that little to you?” You say, your words dripped with disgust.

“Of course not,” He says. “I love her, but you’re more important to me than anyone else. When will you see that?”

Fat tears start to roll down your face, catching on your chin and dripping off onto your crossed arms. “I’m in love with you, Hansol. I’ve been in love with you for, like, two years and it’s tearing me apart inside. Why do you think my anxiety meds and the sleeping pills don’t do anything? You take up so much of my mind and I can’t do anything about it.” You sob. You wipe your face onto your sleeve, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck you, Y/N.” He says, his voice wavering, and that’s when you realize that he’s crying with you. “I can’t believe you never told me.”

You sniffle. “I didn’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

“No, I’m—“ He hesitates, “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry. I’m sorry I couldn’t see it.”

You nod, wiping away the last of your tears. Your face feels puffy and your chest hurts from sobbing so hard. “What now?” You ask.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, but I can’t just break up with Chaeyoung and move on in a day.” He says.

“So?” You ask. It makes you feel like a bitch, but you’ve gone this long wallowing in your own despair and you want answers.

“We wait it out.”