#did this ask inspire me to write some actual paragraphs and not half-formed ideas
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lemonzestywrites · 11 months ago
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I am so curious about the Eddie feminization fic. Can you tell us more about it or is it a secret??
you know anon, for you, ill do more than just tell you about it
here's a massive little snippet of it 💕
(nsfw beneath the cut!!!)
====
“See that pretty thing in the mirror, baby?”
Eddie’s breath hitches. Buck thrumb runs idly along his pulse point, a sweet taunting sensation. Eddie wonders if he can feel the way his heart is pounding in his veins. Boiling excitement seizing his body, setting ablaze every nerve ending. 
He swallows, nodding obediently.
Buck hums behind him. The look on his face being one painted with pure satisfaction. 
Buck leans in, lips brushing over the shell of Eddie’s ear. The motion is so light yet sends such a delightful shiver down his spine. But then Buck smiles, a wolfish grin spreading wide across his features, that spells nothing but mischief and coy desire.
“She’s going to get fucked today.”
Buck punctuates his words with a slight squeeze of his hand.
Eddie can’t even help the whine that pours out of his throat.
Fuck.
Within the confines of the lingerie, he feels his cock throbbing, leaking delectably in the lace. He’s probably making a mess of it, though Eddie can’t find enough of a thought to care. 
Buck’s gaze never breaks from the mirror, his dark piercing blue eyes staying latched onto Buck. Like a predator watching its prey with wild, careful hunger. His other hand, the one trailing across Eddie’s stomach, drifts back down and behind him. 
Slim fingers slip past the elastic of the lingerie, following the curve of his ass before pausing right over the base of the plug. Eddie’s heart spikes in his chest. 
“Gonna slide my cock into that slick hole of hers…” Buck murmurs, as he slowly starts pumping the plug in and out in small thrusts, just barely grazing over Eddie’s prostate that aches to be touched so badly. “And fuck her full of my come. Have her all wet and shaking beneath me.”
Eddie can’t come from this. He knows he can’t. The stimulation is not at all near close enough to get him over the edge. But God, the borderline filth pouring from Buck’s lips genuinely makes him think for a moment he might.
He presses his throat further into Buck’s palm, rocking his hips back, so, so desperate for more.
“Do you think she’ll like that?” Buck continues, voice devilishly low as he angles Eddie’s head close to him.
Holy shit.
Eddie groans into the gag, anything to convey nothing but the utmost enthusiasm. Fuck, he wants it. He wants it so bad.
His head fucking spins from it, and he knows it’s not just from the hand around his throat.
He wants to be fucked. To be stretched out and ruined. He wants to be made a writhing mess in the sheets while Buck takes him apart. God, he’ll do fucking anything for it. He craves it like air. The desire to be at someone else’s mercy- at Buck’s mercy.
To not worry or think about anything that isn’t this moment. Right now, Eddie just wants to be filled, and fucked, and tied up, and praised.
He wants to be a good girl.
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anna-hawk · 11 months ago
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Writer's Block Solution
BJ Rose x implied f!Reader
Summary: You write fanfiction and BJ helps with your writer's block in a very unexpected way.
Rating: E 🔞 // WC: 3,2k
Tags and Warnings: PWP, friends to lovers, very slight Dom/sub undertones, sweet guy turns dominant, unprotected sex, minor angst
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A/N: So, I'm sick with the flu and that's when my brain gives me the weirdest ideas. I based this on a trend I saw a while ago on IG and just went with it. If you know the trend, you'll know what I mean while reading. If you don't, that's also fine, as it's a bit embarrassing anyway. In any case, it's silly and maybe BJ is a bit OOC, but who knows how he actually is in the bedroom, right? Right…
Read it on AO3
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Reading through your latest paragraph, you huffed angrily, before you selected the whole thing and hit the back button. You drummed your fingers over the space next to the touchpad on your laptop as you thought, before sighing and starting a new paragraph. Again. Ten minutes later, and you were repeating the same process you had over the entire last hour and a half. 
“What’s got you this upset?”
Blowing out a loud breath through your lips, you lifted your eyes to your friend, staring at his tall form over the lid of the laptop. BJ was leaning against the door frame, one foot crossed lazily over the other as he looked at you, a dishtowel in one hand. He looked so domestic in his sweatpants and sweatshirt, added to the soft smile and that stupid dishtowel. He was nothing like the man you were trying your hardest to write about in your story. However, people were waiting for the next part, the smutty part, and your brain refused to come up with anything worthwhile. Any positioning you thought of came out wrong, the way the man was talking and seducing his partner felt off. They were supposed to kiss in an intense way before anything more happened, but you couldn’t even get that on paper. On screen. Whatever. 
“Writer’s block,” you muttered unhappily, going as far as crossing your arms in front of you like a sulking kid. 
Which was ironic, considering that you’d spent the afternoon over at BJ’s looking after Trey while BJ was out training his team. Since you worked from home, you had come with your laptop, and you’d spent the afternoon playing games with Trey or working while he did his own thing. Twenty minutes after BJ had come back, Trey’s best friend had pulled up with his dad to pick him up for a sleepover. Which had led to BJ inviting you to stay over for dinner. While he’d been in the kitchen, you’d excused yourself and sat back down on the living room couch with your story, hit by a bout of inspiration. Which had been kicked out the proverbial window as soon as you’d started writing. 
“Anything I can help you with?” BJ asked kindly, throwing the dishtowel over his shoulder. 
You stared at him and shrugged. BJ knew what kind of stories you wrote, something that had amused him to no end the first time you’d told him after he’d found your open laptop on your kitchen counter, a very explicit scene staring back at him. 
“Dinner’s ready, otherwise, so,” he elongated the last word and clapped his thigh. 
“Yeah, I … I don’t know. I’m just so close to getting it right.” You held your index and thumb close together to indicate that you only needed a little push. 
BJ observed you for a moment and nodded. 
“What’s it about? Are we getting to the good part?” he laughed softly and lifted his eyebrows meaningfully a few times.
You pursed your lips despite his try at humor, and nodded aggressively, which had BJ snorting. 
“‘kay, and what’s happening?” 
“Well…” you began, only to trail off with some wild hand gestures. “I want the moment to like, really build, you know? Make it intense. And…” You looked at BJ again, and tilted your head to the side thoughtfully. “Actually, they’re…”
You slid the laptop off your thighs and put it onto the couch next to you before you got up and walked over to BJ. He watched you approach with a curious expression, his shoulder still against the door frame. 
“Maybe if I get the right perspective, I could write about it better?” you commented thoughtfully, as you stopped in front of him. 
“Okay?” He said slowly, waiting you out. 
“Right, so, um, basically, what’s happening is that the main character is about to leave the room, but the guy blocks the way. They’re both a bit angry at each other because — never mind why — they just are, and…” you moved closer to BJ, like you wanted to cage him in, with your hand going to the wood behind his head. “He does something like that?” You explained awkwardly, feeling ridiculous and not as sexy as how you had envisioned the moment. 
BJ blinked at you for a beat, before he licked his bottom lip consideringly and nodded. A second later, he swiftly moved forward, forcing you back until you were the one hitting the door frame on the other side. One of his hands moved over your head, while the other one went into the pocket of his sweats. He was looming over you. BJ Rose, this kind and sweet dad of a man, was looming over you, his expression intense, his face only a few inches away from yours, as was the rest of his body. 
“Like this?” he asked softly. And when had his voice turned so husky? 
“Um,” you got out, your eyes wide as you realized how absolutely stupid you had been for asking BJ to act out such a scene with you. 
Because while BJ was nothing like the man you were writing about, you didn’t need him to be for you to have developed a giant crush months ago. Since then, you had never let on how you felt about him, since BJ probably only saw you as a friend, no matter how much time you spent together.  
“Does he do anything else? Or what happens next?” 
You locked eyes with him, but were unable to know what he was thinking. One thing was sure, he wasn’t laughing it off and was actually taking your situation seriously. 
“Well, the — um — the main character tries to — um — pull away. But he stops the movement and — and — you know — goes like this?” You tentatively lifted your hand and cupped the back of his head, his skin warm and the short hair at the base of his head feeling soft under your fingers. “But — you know — stronger?” You withdrew your hand, but were still unable to look away from his eyes. 
“‘kay, so let’s try?” he suggested far too calmly.
You blinked. Blinked again a few times and… Oh. Really? Well… It would be stupid to stop now, right? This could actually help you write later. Right? Swallowing, you nodded and moved into action. You pushed against his chest with both hands, sending him backwards a couple of steps, visibly catching him by surprise as you hadn’t told him exactly how the character pulled away. BJ was only thrown for a moment because his eyes sharpened, and he was back on you a fraction of a second later. You actually gasped as your back met wood again. What followed was the feeling of BJ’s hands on you, one going to your hip, while the other one went to the back of your neck like you had explained to him. His grip was strong and secure, letting you know that you had nowhere else to go. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t realized that your hands had gone to grip onto the sides of his sweatshirt, your fingers clenched tight in the material, while your breaths came in short pants. Your next breath caught in your chest as the hand that BJ had over your nape, slid towards your jaw to tilt your head towards his, his lips now barely an inch away from yours. You were completely unable to move, not knowing what was acting and what was the truth. The way BJ was looking at you was so intense that you felt your stomach tighten in anticipation. He didn’t ask what came next, nor did you think that you would have been able to answer him if he had. As you briefly glanced at his lips, almost as if on reflex since they were so close, you saw BJ’s eyes fill with something that had you suddenly moving again. It only took your head leaning forward an inch to be able to press your lips to his. A moment later, BJ was pressing his whole body against yours as he kissed you back with an intensity and want that you hadn’t expected. Your arms went from his sides to around his neck, as his tongue slipped between your parted lips to slide against yours in a hot caress. The hand on your hip moved fully around your waist to pull you closer, while he pressed a knee between your legs. A high-pitched moan escaped you as he had you riding his thigh, while one of his hands vanished inside your pants to grab a fistful of your ass. Your mind was spinning at the way he was touching you, showing a more passionate side of him that surprised you but that you found you really enjoyed all the same. 
“That okay with you?” he then asked against your jaw, which had you bursting into a short and surprised laugh. 
There he was, the sweet and considerate guy that you had fallen for, still present underneath these more aggressive layers of need and lust. 
“Yes,” you breathed vehemently, before you moaned again as he kept you moving over his thigh and got a satisfied hum from him. 
“Wanna tell me what happens next in your story?”
You stared back at him, panting roughly just like he was, and licked your lips. 
“You tell me.” You decided then, knowing that whatever you’d had in mind until now, wouldn’t compete with what BJ might be thinking of. He had already surprised you quite a bit tonight. 
He gave you a thoughtful stare that only lasted for a second, before he smirked and had you facing the door frame an instant later. You caught yourself with your hands and gasped as BJ pulled and tugged at your clothes until you were standing fully naked in front of him, your bare back facing him. You didn’t have time to feel cold, since he pressed his front against your back, his erection pushing against you. His mouth landed on your shoulder and trailed all the way over to the other one, before it moved up your nape and finally down your spine. All the way down your spine. He pulled your hips back and started sucking and nipping at your ass as he ran a hand between your legs to reach for your entrance. He hummed against your skin at the wetness he found there and pushed two fingers inside you. Your hands tightened on the wood as you gasped and cried out, not having expected the move. With his fingers still inside you, BJ rose to his feet again to begin kissing along the side of your neck. As he withdrew his fingers from you and stroked over your sensitive flesh, his other hand moved to your front and found one of your nipples to gently pull at it. 
“BJ,” you breathed on a short gasp, your head thrown back. 
As if saying his name had triggered something in him, BJ grabbed you by the waist and turned you back to face him. He pushed you against the living room wall this time and cupped your face to kiss you deeply. You had barely taken a hold of his sweatshirt, when he fell to his knees before you and lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. Your mind didn’t have the time to process what was going on before BJ had his head between your legs and was taking you apart with his mouth and tongue. Your head thumped hard against the wall as it flew back from the intensity of the pleasure suddenly coursing through you. With a string of distorted expletives, you curled over him and sank your fingers into the longer hair at the top of his head. Between the whole surreal situation, his fingers on you just before and now his mouth, the leg still holding you up was already starting to tremble with an incoming orgasm. You repeated his name a few times on tiny breaths as your body was wrecked by tremors, but instead of sending you over the edge, BJ stopped altogether and stood again. You stared at him through heavy lidded eyes as you panted deeply, your eyes falling to his shiny lips.  
“Not like this,” he whispered roughly against your lips, only leaving a small kiss there before he had you moving again. 
Curling an arm around your waist, BJ pulled you further into the living room with a few short steps and made you sit on the edge of the sectional couch. BJ followed you down, one hand holding him up at the side of your head, while the other vanished between your bodies as he kissed you. Your legs wrapped around his hips on instinct, and a moment later, you felt his length pressing against your entrance. You moaned loudly into his mouth as your fingers gripped tightly onto his shoulders as he began to slip inside. As soon as he was fully settled, BJ pulled back and began thrusting his hips into yours again and again, never stopping as he drew short gasps and cries of pleasure out of you. 
After the shortest amount of time, your entire body began feeling overstimulated in all the best ways. You clung to him with everything you had as his powerful thrusts and his large body lying over yours had you finally reaching your climax. Your eyes shut tightly while your arms and legs squeezed BJ to you, which got a long grunt out of him as his hips kept moving sporadically. 
“Is this what you had in mind?” he rasped into your ear after your grip on him became less strong. 
“No,” you groaned, grabbing his hair as he frowned. “So much better.” You kissed him hard to show him just how much this meant to you.  
BJ smiled against your lips and slid you further up the couch so he could put a knee on it as he picked the pace up again. You kept kissing as he sunk into you over and over, until he had to break the kiss as he neared his own release, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the pleasure. You took the opportunity to watch him, how his brow furrowed, and his mouth parted on a long groan. Coming here today, you had been light years from thinking that you would be ending the day like this. 
You both breathed quietly for a minute, before BJ gently pulled away and stood at your side. Your heart sank as you realized that BJ was suddenly failing to make eye contact as he turned around to fix his clothes. You gingerly sat up, hoping to avoid making too much of a mess, and watched BJ heading towards the door leading to the hallway, where he retrieved your clothes and the dishtowel that had fallen to the floor at some point. 
“I’ll — uh — go check if everything’s still warm while you — um — yeah,” he said awkwardly, as he handed you the clothes before he went to check on dinner. 
Feeling like an idiot, you balled your clothes into your arms and quickly made it to the bathroom. You hurried through cleaning up and were back in the living room and in front of your laptop in a few minutes. The sounds of pans and cutlery came from the kitchen, and you glanced in its direction as you put your things away into the bag you’d brought with you earlier. You had a mind to simply bolt without saying anything, but what good would that be since you were neighbors? Never come out of your house again? Move away? With a fortifying intake of breath, you walked through the hallway and into the kitchen, where the island had been set for two. 
“Do you want me to leave?” You hadn’t meant to be that straightforward, but better rip the band-aid off quickly, right? 
BJ, who’d had his back to you, startled faintly and turned around. 
“No!” he said immediately, his eyes finally meeting yours again, before he sighed and started over at a lower volume. “No.”
“Listen, BJ, if you want us to pretend like this never happened, just say the word, okay? I didn’t mean to start anything when I asked for your help, but,” you stalled for a moment. “But you need to know that I didn’t just go with it because we were playing out a scene. I kissed you because… well… because it was you and… maybe…” you sighed and looked at your hands. “Anyway, you decide, okay?” 
You pulled the chair out from under the island and sat in front of your plate, waiting for BJ to do the same. 
“I don’t wanna pretend like nothing happened,” BJ started softly, remaining where he was. “I just thought I maybe went too far with everything.”
You lifted your eyes to him and saw him looking back with a troubled expression as he leaned against the stove. 
“Did I give you the impression that you did? Or that I wasn’t into everything you did a hundred percent?” you smiled faintly, between perplexed and amused by the difference between the BJ who’d known exactly what he wanted and how to push your buttons, and the BJ standing in front of you right now, back to his sweet self.
A small smile pulled at one corner of his mouth, which had you laughing in earnest. 
“Yeah, yeah, you go ahead and be smug.” You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “Now, what about dinner? I had someone make me work up an appetite here.” 
BJ barked out a laugh and did as asked before taking the seat across from you. 
A while later, as you finished eating, BJ stared at the laptop sticking out of the bag you’d placed on the chair next to you.
“So… you think you have enough… footage to write this scene?”
The fork that you were in the midst of putting down, stopped briefly in its course at the question before you finally placed it on the plate. 
“Well.” You sat back against the chair and put on an exaggerated thoughtful expression. “I think I’ve got enough for this one, yeah… But, you know… I have several other stories planned. With more intense looming going on and arguments to be settled with make-up sex and… other things like that. Who knows… maybe I might need your help again… After all, I strive to be as accurate as possible.” 
BJ watched you with a smile that kept growing as you talked, his tongue peeking from between his teeth as he held back his laugh. His eyebrows dipped for a second in a would be serious expression. 
“That so, huh?” He got up and walked around the island, putting a hand on the back of your chair as he leaned over you. Loomed over you. “The things you’d do for your writing.”
Your teasing smile broke into an actual full on bright smile at his behavior. “Only the best for my audience,” you shrugged, before BJ leaned all the way down for a long kiss. 
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Little mutal tags for @darlingshane @lucy-sky and @slavic-empress since this is a lesser known character and I know you guys appreciate him.
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mcfiddlestan · 3 years ago
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Fic Writer Questions
I'm bored and this was in a note on my phone from forever ago, so I must have been tagged at some point. Apologies to whoever tagged me. 🥴
1) How many works do you have on AO3?
52. Though, I used to have a few more. I deleted a few fics some years ago bc I hated that they were just sitting there unfinished. I was going through a particularly brutal bout of writer's block that affected both my fic writing and my RP writing.
2) What's your total AO3 word count?
720,782. And I was stressing about a 30-page thesis. 😂 (which ended up being over 15,000 words)
3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
I started writing fic in 2000 with *NSYNC, Christina Aguilera, and Backstreet Boys fics. I stopped writing a bit around 2004-2007 (because of a stupid boy) and picked it up again in 2012 after reading some awesome Cherik fics and wanting to write my own FrostIron College AU when I read one that was good, but kind of disturbing. I think I write for one fandom -- Marvel -- but, like different factions of it. FrostIron and WinterFrost mostly, with a dash of Stucky, ThunderFrost, DashingFrost, and WinterIron.
4) What are your Top 5 fics by kudos?
Black Light Special (WinterFrost) - 628 kudos
Can I Bum A Ride? (WinterFrost) - 425 kudos
Empire State of Mind (FrostIrom) - 420 kudos
Dark Side (FrostIron) - 398 kudos
A Worthy Collection (FrostIron) - 309 kudos
5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I really do make an effort to respond to every single comment, even the not-so-nice ones. I want people to know I've seen and read the comment they took the time to post, so even if I just thank them for reading and commenting, I respond.
6) What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
Considering it features two -- count 'em, two! -- major character deaths, it's definitely Empire State of Mind. Though, I'd argue Dark Side is a pretty close second.
7) What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?
Probably Ghosts That We Knew. It was the final fic in the trilogy that is the Picture Perfect Series. It follows Loki and Tony from when they meet in college and ends 30+ years later.
8) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?
No, not really. And I rarely, if ever, read them. There's no real reason behind it other than I've just never come upon one and thought "ooh I need to read that."
9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Yes. I got a lot of hateful messages after I completed Empire State of Mind. People were really angry at me for killing off two major characters. I mean, a lot of the messages were "omg I hate you but I loved this!" kind of vibe. But there were a few that cussed me out and called me names for writing it.
I had some chapters of a Fools Rush In FrostIron AU posted a while ago, in which Loki was a female, the only daughter in both the Odinson and Laufeyson families. Following the storyline of the Matthew Perry/Salma Hayek movie, Loki meets Tony Stark in a bar and gets pregnant from a one night stand. Anyway, I got a lot of messages telling me that Odin's misogyny and mistreatment of Loki was unrealistic -- even though I had literally modeled his behavior after the movie that inspired it. 🤷🏽
I have some prompts done for the 100 Ways to Say ILY writer's block challenge and for one of them, I borrowed the storyline from an episode of Will & Grace when Will's father dies of a heart attack after they have a bad argument where his father basically admits he wished Will wasn't gay so he could have had an easier life. In the epsiode, the fight starts because Will's parents gift his baby blanket to Grace, who is pregnant with her ex-husband's child. Will takes offense, they don't understand why bc he never mentioned wanting children, and a fight ensues. Similarly, in my fic, Frigga and Odin offer a pregnant Natasha (his BFF) Loki's blanket. Some readers did not like this and did not understand why I would write it. In another prompt, one that was literally how my last relationship ended, got some harsh critiques. Those ones hurt especially bc it was such a personal experience I wrote about.
And I actually got into a fight -- like a screaming match -- IRL with my best friend's boyfriend at the time. One of my bestie's friends asked about my fanfiction and I gave them the gist of one of my stories where Loki has a brief relationship with Sif that results in a child and later reconnects with Tony. Later on, Sif offers to be a surrogate for Tony and Loki and eventually births three more children for them. Bestie's boyfriend could not fathom why a woman would purposely get herself impregnated and then give the child away. I tried to explain that this was a thing that a lot of women did IRL -- and some don't even use their own eggs, but the eggs of a woman who cannot conceive; Sif used her own eggs so that all four children were half related (two by Loki, two by Tony). But he just did not believe me and told me I must not be a very good writer. Worst night of my life.
10) Do you write smut?
I was just telling @teadrinkingwolfgirl the other night how when I first started writing fic I did not write sex scenes. It was always inferred or glossed over. When I started writing again in 2012, for FrostIron, it was my first time writing more detailed sex. I cite Jackie Collins as my smut-writing mentor. I've written almost exclusively M/M smut.
11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of.
12) Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! Which is like the best thing ever! A couple of my older fics have been translated to Russian. I have one *NSYNC fic that was made into an audio fic. And someone recently messaged me on ff*net to ask to translate as many of my fics as they can to Spanish. :D
13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, not technically. I've gotten a lot of prompts and ideas from friends and mutuals, and I started reformatting my WinterFrost RP with my ex from 2014-2015 into novel form a while ago. That's tecnically the only thing I've written with someone else and published.
14) What's your all time favorite ship?
I have two that will always, ALWAYS, have my heart and attention. FrostIron (Tony Stark/Loki) and WinterFrost (Bucky Barnes/Loki). They are the two ships that I write the most, read the most, and seek out fanart for the most.
15) What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
Probably The Flame. It's a fic that starts out ThunderFrost (not related; Asgardian Prince Thor semi-rescues an imprisoned Jotun Prince Loki) but eventually ends up FrostIron. It's the only fic I've ever written that features Loki with both male and female biology. I have a few chapters done but I haven't worked on it in years.
16) What are your writing strengths?
I like to think I write realistic relationships. And I think my dialogue is also realistic and easy to grasp. And I put a lot of humor in between all the angst and hurt.
17) What are your writing weaknesses?
I think I get too detailed with background. I just reread my Picture Perfect series (which I do like once a year), and there are literal paragraphs of background that in Google Docs is like pages and pages. But I want to make sure people understand my characters! LOL
18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I'm a big fan of it. I featured a lot of Norwegian in the Picture Perfect series. And French. I think as long as it flows with the storytelling and it's not forced on the characters it can be really cool. It should be natural. I always leave a translation list at the end of the chapter or explain in-text what was said. Which I think most authors I've read do.
19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?
The Backstreet Boys. LOL. Don't judge. I started writing my own fics after discovering BSB fanfiction written by an author named Mistress Lynz. She wrote a lot of fics about bloodletting, but I really enjoyed the fics where the guys were hooking up with each other behind the scenes, LOL explains why I write mostly M/M now. 😂
20) What's your favorite fic you've written?
They're kind of like my babies so at different times different ones are my faves. But if I really had to pick one, I would say Stay With Me is my favorite. I got some of the most amazing comments on this story from people that found meaning and themes in the story that I didn't even realize I'd put in there. It was one of my first WinterFrost fics I'd posted and the response was more than I could have asked for.
And now I have to tag people! @teadrinkingwolfgirl @incredifishface @incubigirl @rabentochter @marvelswinterfrost and whoever else feels up to it.
xoxo
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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago
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Hi, I love your hcs. I have an idea for one that I really want to write but I’m a little shy. Can I ask...how did you start writing headcannons? Any tips for a newbie?
😳 Holy shizz... I'm honored you asked but I suddenly feel great responsibility... I'll try not to squander it! Here's what I can offer:
1. You don’t have to be super “out there”
As someone who’s also painfully shy, the first thing I’ll tell you is you never have to share more about yourself than you’re comfortable with. The beautiful thing about making content, be it HCs, fanfic, fanart, etc. is that you can make it whether you’re a super public person or not. A fun HC is a fun HC and if you make what you love, don’t worry, it can find an audience.
2. Write what you love/Think would be fun
Having an idea that you can visualize is really half the battle, so if you have already one in mind that's perfect! No matter what it is, as long as you enjoy it. I find the things I love writing the most are the ideas that make me smile and laugh when I’m just sitting around imagining them. I think it makes the process more fun when the author enjoys what they’re doing and that usually translates well into what they’re working on. Plus, it makes it easier to make content in general, which is always a good thing.
3. If you’re having trouble, find an inspiration or a model to start with.
I don’t know about other people, but I learn best from examples. When there’s something new that I want to try, I’ll look to see how other people do it and pinpoint what I think would work best for me. This is usually just a first step, if you put more investment in your writing then you can branch out and try new things: different ideas, formats, etc. 
If you haven’t already, I would recommend looking at other HC writers if you’re having trouble knowing where to start. Some creators whose work I really enjoy include the ever amazing @obae-me, @fellulahh, @seven-sigils, @whatissleepeven, @sondepoch, and @diavolosthots. If you’re looking for quality (and enjoyable) work to learn from, I’d point to them.
4. Find a format that works for you (this is the hardest part (for me anyway))
You’re probably not going to know what’s most comfortable when you first start out and that’s perfectly fine. Everyone writes their HCs a little differently. Some people do it in a listicle style, others in just one or two short paragraphs, and there’s different fusions of both… I think it depends on what you think flows the best. Little snippets of ideas may suit a list more while more well-formed scenarios may need longer sections... There’s no wrong answer here, it’s all up to you and your taste. (I’m STILL fiddling with mine all the time so that should tell you something... 😖)
5. Know your motivation 
This may take writing for a little bit to come up with but usually people have a reason to post what they do. From day one, mine was just to indulge in my weird little ideas and just share the love in the fandom I’m making content for and I’ve tried to hold true to that. Knowing why you’re writing can help give you confidence and motivation when life gets hard or the creativity fairy decides to take a vacation. Don’t threat if you don’t have any grandiose purpose for doing what you like either, because the very fact that you like it is more than enough reason in itself.
6. If you want to make a dedicated blog for this, then don't worry so much about chasing an audience 
When you first start out, it will feel a lot like spamming content into the void. An easy source of discouragement is when the things you make don’t quite get a lot of attention, but give it time. Persistence can build a surprisingly good following and ebb and flow in attention is natural. Getting too caught up in the numbers isn’t great for your mental health because it's just so hard to predict and ultimately not something you can really control. What you can affect is the work you do and if you love your content then that will go a long way towards keeping all of this fun in the long run.
Okay, that was a lot longer than I thought it’d be, I hope I didn’t overwhelm anybody... 😅 Turns out I had a lot more to say than when I actually started thinking about it. I hope this mini-TED talk helped you out in some way, can’t wait to see what you come up with!! 😁
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yume-fanfare · 4 years ago
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hi i am that anon from like 29th Dec (last dang year) who said i read ur tsuki no hime and loved it and that u understand Aizou. i have read more of ur stuff since then and now i NEED to ask you for writing advice, on both characterization and general writing tips since I didnt mention it before. Sorry about that! i just forgot i sent an ask and i do not get notifs at all (or does anon asks not get notifs?) Also, ART STUDENT! That's why the nice art and art leaning!! I feel smart for sensing it
oh yup, tumblr doesn't send notifs for anon asks! but i'm glad you did see the answer anyway
this post is hideously long, so answer under the cut!
so, on characterization: it is mostly a matter of what would they say, rather than what you want them to say. the joke about "the characters do what they want to" instead of what the writer wants is pretty much true if you want them to be in character lol (that's why sometimes a little bit of OoC isn't too bad)
checking the source material is the most important thing: look at prior similar interactions the characters have had and how they reacted
this is kind of hard with LIPxLIP, as there aren't that many translated texts about them but with honeyworks the most canon and reliable thing to use as reference are the mvs. the mvs are drawn in a way that can pretty much be understood even if you don't have the lyrics, and sometimes it's even better if you can't read them, to properly focus on the images better
look at their expressions closely: while aizou is always explosive in his anger, yuujirou often has a more indifferent expression. so, when they fight, aizou is probably the one to blow up first while yuujirou maintains his composure better. it's kind of the classic "this was only a brief passing panel but i am going to expand on it" www
but the thing about fanfiction is that it's always a bit of a character analysis in itself. you don't start writing having already a color-coded folder of possible situations and reactions a character would have for each setting. you just throw the characters in a scenario and then think from there onwards, and eventually you'll be able to have the folder of situations and what you think their reactions would be like. (though, this links back to the prior point, if the characters have gone through a similar situation in canon, use that as guide! plus, finding little references to canon when reading is always fun)
for general writing, i'm going to mostly talk about my own experiences and process! i'm in no way a professional though
the basic is reading a lot. not just books but also fanfic. in fact, since you're writing fanfic, i Encourage you to read fanfic. even if your story ends up novel length, the way of treating the story is different from that of an actual novel. for example, because you're working under the premise that everyone knows the characters already. the general style of fics is different as well.
in fact, the style is the main reason i'm saying this slfkslfkslkf
read a lot of stuff and find a style you like. think of it as sewing together pieces from here and there to make a frankenstein amalgamation: this person's metaphors, the comparisons from here, the descriptions from there
personally, i adore the "long one-shot with a long title formatted (like this)" fics that are mostly feelings and descriptions and as little dialogue as possible, and some that occasionally play with the "show don't tell" rule, and some months ago i read a book whose descriptions amazed me because you could feel what the character was focusing on the most, rather than being general descriptions of the situation (i actually have a lot of thoughts about descriptions but that's a post for another day). but also i really like dialogue and plot-driven stories, descriptions can get boring and before trying to break rules, you have to be really good at following them
but, let's go step by step: developing an idea
for this i'm going to mostly reference the multichap i finished a while ago as an example
i started with just a few vague concepts in mind: non-idol au with aizou who does some sport and likes music but is insecure about his singing and yuujirou who does some music related thing and encourages him to sing in a way that's somehow related to the hozier song to noisemaking (sing), because it's what inspired me to write in the first place
then, from then onwards i wrote down what would happen in the first chapter of the story bullet-point-list-style, including things like the roommates part or the clubs the boys were in (at first yuujirou was in the choir club lol the change was a last second decision that idk why i took) and then bits of dialogue here and there that would be The Turning Points. those first dialogues were for the fight at the end of ch 1, the apology-date in ch 3 and then some vaguely unused ones for the "yuujirou encourages aizou" part, as those were the first key moments i thought of
because, since it's enemies to friends to lovers, an important aspect was character development
not all fics have character development bc not all of them are long enough (if you're aiming for short and sweet then there's no need). but if they do, i recommend you write down how the character was at the beginning of the story and then how they were at the end and then fill in the middle later, think of what those key turning points that made the character change were (the more little things you add, the more gradual it'll be)
samishigariya illustrates this very nicely: the song starts and finishes with the same lines, but the ending ones feel more light-hearted. the beginning has pre-arisa ken and pre-getting-along-with-yuujirou aizou, when they were the lonely people the title mentioned, and the ending, when they're not lonely anymore. the in between can be seen in depth during the other songs: ken before arisa was a playboy who didn't take love seriously, but after meeting her he realized that games were not all there was to love; and aizou used to be quite cranky and high-key a loner, but then he "meets precious things and knows of love". i will not elaborate on that because this isn't an aiyuu post but Oh You Know
for the fic, aizou would go through that same process, more or less: someone who doesn't really form meaningful connections with people but who, in the end, would end up having quite a bunch of people who care about him as his relationship with yuujirou advances too
since the relationship was the main focus, i wrote a very simple outline for how it would develop throughout 5 hypothetical chapters that was just: 1. civil w each other but mostly bad > 2. bad > 3. half friends > 4. pining > 5. date
and then with that in mind and the bullet point list, the final basic outline ended up like this:
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there were scraped ideas and ideas that made it in later, but i believe having a simple outline, a bare skeleton to add things to, is important. stories need continuity, development requires a prior buildup
it's especially important in multichapter fics where you post as you write, you need to have a more or less clear idea of what's going to happen because you can't ignore scenes you've already posted
shorter stories don't need it as much, you can think as you go, but it's still helpful to know where you're going with things to avoid getting stuck
and, on getting stuck: don't be afraid of deleting things. if you can't figure out how to continue things, then delete the situation and start again. it might feel like you'd be wasting time but in the end, it is so much better than being stuck on the same scene for weeks
in fact, you don't have to write in order. jump to the next scene and you'll figure it out later. you Can write the scene you want to write and then build everything else around it
it's normal to write a scene and then realize it would make more sense later in the story, or that it would be better if you added another scene earlier, or sometimes you just find it easier to jump from one part of the story to another. rely on your outline to keep track of what you've written, what you have left to write and what's the best way to arrange your story. make your story understandable
which bring us to editing
there's a lot of much better posts on editing stories, but yeah ctrl+f is your best friend: don't repeat yourself too much. and be sure to vary sentence and paragraph length, as well as sentence structure, to give dynamism to the writing
now, i've mentioned before the show, don't tell rule, but i'm going to talk a bit more about it because it's quite important
once again there's a lot of posts that explain more in depth what it is, so i'm not going to expand too much on that, but, very basically, try to avoid things like "then some time passed and they became friends". explain it: what happened exactly? how did they become friends? if it's important, show it to us, instead of summarizing
since things like these make the story longer, it also gives room for more development and proper explanation for things that happen
for example, the fic was originally going to start with them already in the room, and the whole situation would have been explained in a single paragraph somewhere, but by actually adding the scene where they first arrive to the dorms and argue with the lady at the main desk, the story flows better and it let me actually describe their first meeting
and uuuhhh i think that's all? this took super long to write i hope i didn't forget any super basic stuff lol
i want to add that for enemies to lovers i greatly recommend this post bc it's super good but yeah i think that's basically it, if you have any more specific questions just shoot me an ask
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likeawildthing · 5 years ago
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in terms of design advice, any ideas for a broke college student apartment room? 💕💕
college is a weird time because you are kind of a grown up but also definitely not! and your interests and tastes will change so rapidly in the next few years. so honestly it’s a great time to experiment and be creative. this advice all depends on your particular space, but in any small space everything that can be double duty, should be double duty (night stand is also a tv tray/laptop tray, art is also bulletin board or jewelry holder), the more uses you can get out of something, the better! going vertical on the walls where you can get away with it is amazing. here are a few easy and cheap ways to upgrade and some basic design principles:
take this design quiz to find out your style (plug in a fake email) and then google or pinterest away. you’ll see repeat themes (for ex. major bohemian trend is macrame, which easily DIYable, or MCM is all about legs and clean profiles). maybe that would be fun post - to highlight different styles and trends. but here are some upgrades that translate to any design style for cheap:
PLANTS
don’t go to a nursery and drop a hundred dollars you don’t have. a plant or two or three you really love will change the vibe of the whole space, and give you something to take care of, which is ofc good for your mental health. tips for getting plants and planters on the cheap!
think of a relative or friend who already has houseplants and ask for free ones next time they’re splitting. i literally did my entire garden this way in my first place. 
look on like FB marketplace or whatever your swap site is because people are often selling plants or cuttings for a discount.
i have literally split the cost of a plant with a friend and then split it in half, like a baby before Solomon
pothos plants of any kind are easy to take care of and can split into smaller plants pretty regularly.
succulents are usually a few dollars at the store and everyone loves them! start with one simple succulent.
herbs! if you get herb garden seeds or plants you literally make what you eat!
if you have pets, make sure they are pet friendly.
i do not spend a lot of $$ on planters! i use terra cotta because 1. they’re cheap as hell and 2. cute! some of my favorite planters are terra cotta pots kristina painted for me! you can also thrift pots, which i would encourage, or reuse food containers by putting small holes in the bottom. 
create hanging plants by making yarn macrame holders! youtube is your friend on this! you can get a ceiling hook for like $3 if it’s a solid ceiling (drywall) and super easy to patch up when it’s time to leave.
ART
function + form. something organic that you can change out inspiration or art, like a cork or inspiration board (look on like a varage sale or in a thrift store for this).  you can get four12x12 cork boards from target for $7 and create something like this from two of them, which is in and of itself a piece of art (and you can take it down w/out damaging walls)
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other cheap things i have done for art:
calendar or magazine pages in thrifted frames  (my favorite cheap tricks is to get matte black or white craft paint for $1.25 from wm or target and paint a bunch of odd frames to unify them)
a picture ledge like this from ikea is your best friend because you can interchange the art to be whatever you want!
embroidery hoop fabric bulletin boards
seriously, posters are cool. get a cheap poster online and hang it with washi tape. it’s not precious. if you want something more grown up, try to thrift a frame for it for cheap. if you don’t like the color of the frame, paint it! if you can’t hang something heavy like this on the wall, use command velcro strips OR set it on top of a dresser or bookcase and lean it against the wall.
i love tassels and buntings. just google either of those and you’ll get thousands of cheap ideas. in my last bedroom i just had a bunting i cut and made over my bed and it acted like a bedframe and i loved it.
just free prints from the internet hung up with little clips like this ($2 from target) or bulky push pins – those holes are so easy to patch!
when my kids were little until two weeks ago i had an entire wall covered with their artwork. i’m saying maybe go to the thrift store, get some ugly canvases with your friends, and have a painting party. everyone brings a $4 thing of acrylic paint and a brush and have a party. good memories + new art for everyone. swap at the end!
pictures! actually print out those pictures and tape them to the wall with washi tape. you can also do something like this with push pins for as big or small as you want to make it (i have this in my living room
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here’s a proper primer on the 7 elements of design, but you can skip that and go here if you want!
BALANCE
white space and focal points. in the same way that you need to break up one massive wall of text into digestible paragraphs, you also need to break up the focus in your room. a FOCAL POINT is a statement area in your room (i.e. the window, over your bed, your desk) that your eye is drawn to, and where you want your eye to be drawn to. ideally rooms should have ONE focal point (that’s like the adverb room for writing) but in a dorm apartment, that isn’t practical because it HAS to be multifunction. the important takeaway is that white space on your walls is okay, and important. it gives you a soft space to land, visually, which is important in making you feel more relaxed and even productive.
groupings – grouping like with like makes great sense organizationally AND design wise. a collection of postcards will look amazing on the wall together rather than spread around the room. 
LAYERS
adding layers can make a space feel luxurious – curtains, rugs, extra throw pillows or an extra blanket on your bed or chair. plants are great for this, but fabrics and baskets can add another layer. these can be pricey so i would a. raid your mom’s house if that’s an option and ask if she needs ‘x’ rug or curtains anymore. you can also thrift curtains for cheapppp or even look for clearance fabric – once you wash the curtains they really are safe to use. clearance frabric can be hemmed without being sewn and hung with curtain rings if you need to. and $5 tension rods can work as a curtain rod inside a window frame if needed. i could do a whole post on this but a cheap rug next to your bed and something soft on a window can do wonders!  dude i have also bought cheap cotton weave cloth from walmart and used rit dye to make turqoise curtains and i loved for years. see also: RIT DYE
so decorative pillows are expensive as HELL but regular, cheap pillows are like $4. i get cheap fabric or thrift fabric and sew my own, which you could do by hand, really, and use the pillow stuffing to make it. ikea also sells great cheap pillow covers! 
COLOR
gosh there are no hard and fast rule here but here is a great primer series on color theory for design that you can translate to your room
simplifying a color palette will feel more calming to you, and so will using cool colors like blues and greens. but again, no hard and fast rules. repeat a color or element (shape, pattern) throughout a room 3x (ex. i have a blue rug and that same blueish tone is in a chair and also on a bookshelf. they don’t have to be the same blue, just color family, and it makes it all seem more intentional)
HOW TO DO IT CHEAPLY
buy secondhand. there are entire thrift makeover and upcycle youtube channels that are amazing! same for diy blogs. 
reuse and repurpose what you have. i turned a dvd player box into a toy oven for my kids and they used it as a play kitchen for four years. my bookshelf that stores our games in my living room was $12 from salvation army - i just painted it and added casters for $15. my dresser was a thrift from the REstore, a habitat for humanity store. my end tables are actually butcher block pieces that were in my dad’s factory for forty years. i love bringing old things back to a different life. and you don’t always need a ton of tools to do it.
barter and trade. i traded a one of my kid’s dressers for the hutch that holds our toiletries outside of our upstairs bathrooms. 
sell and repurchase something that works for you. i sold my old bookshelves on fb marketplace and bought another that actually works better. this isn’t applicable to everyone!
make muffins for someone in exchange for their sewing skills or knowledge. i’m teaching my friend to sew right now! libraries often have classes and such to learn new skills.
OK so i have rambled enough. i could ramble more. i hope this gets you started and if you have more specific or follow up questions, on this or organization side of things, let me know! remember these are all just guidelines and the most important thing is having a space you love, that makes you feel comfortable and that you’re proud of and happy in. comparing yourself to others isn’t always the best and you can make it a space you love no matter where you are. 
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anxiouslyfred · 5 years ago
Text
Love After Exile - Rejection
Summary: Virgil loved Remus and Deceit long before they fell out. Now he’s dating Logan after beginning to recognise similar feelings. Roman works on matchmaking and finally talks to Remus about it all, and Dukeceit try to make their move for Logan and Virgil
Authors Note: Yeah it’s been forever since I updated, but the main thing I want to add is there’s almost a chapter worth of writing I’ve cut out of this where Virgil and Patton bake together. It didn’t really fit the story given how little a role Pat has in the story so I just summarised it.
Formatting: There’s a shifting POV, anytime you see Bold starts of a paragraph then there’s been a perspective shift.
Pairings: Analogical from the start, eventual Analoceitmus 
Warnings for this part: suggestive talk, some sex references (Remus being Remus) 
/\/\/\/\/\ Part One /\/\/\/\ Part Two /\/\/\/\/\ Part Three /\/\/\/\/\/\Part Four
Virgil knew change like it was a scent in the air. He could sense it was coming closer and closer currently, but nothing had been said that suggested what it was. Instead of speaking up about it,he worried; worried over if it was change in Thomas or change for himself, worried about how his family would react to the changes, simply worried about change disrupting his relationship with Logan or his tentative friendship now growing with Remus and Deceit once more. Above all of that he worried that Patton would fight whatever changes were happening.
He'd felt the echoes of concern coming from Morality when the other sides first heard Remus talking about His people. Everyone knew of Patton's distaste for the Deceitful side, even though they'd proven that he could tell the truth easily and often did. Virgil just didn't want that friendship to break down once more, not with how closely the emotional aspects of their roles had proven to be.
After the discussion of polyamory, a few days had passed with no appearance from either of the hidden sides, not that that meant they wouldn't pop in whenever it took their whims. Virgil decided to use the time to catch up with Patton, leaving Logan engrossed in rereading something that Roman had to have written given the cover.
After their afternoon baking and chatting Virgil knew that Patton would have a lot more thinking and introspection to do. He had hope some of the hostility to the others would reduce. It might not be enough to avoid another questioning of roles if something actually ended up happening with Deceit and Remus, but it was a start.
Thomas had been in a bit of a creative block this week, or at least that was Roman's excuse if any questioned why he was heading into the hidden commons to visit his brother. Of course Deceit would see in an instant that was a lie, and Remus would probably know fairly easily, but Patton and Logan would accept the excuse.
He actually wanted to find out where Remus was in regards to Virgil's feelings now. It had become clear that the pair were more focused on understanding Virgil since the day Roman learnt about his feelings, but their intentions were harder to discern. That's what brought him to knocking on Remus's door and decidedly trying not to think about the scratches and stains over it.
“Princey! What brings you to the forbidden side? Looking for a proper fight tonight?” Remus cheered as he opened the door, ushering Roman through while grabbing his morning star.
“Or perhaps some inspiration from unexpected places.” Roman rolled his eyes, easily batting the weapon back down.
The scoff that received was entirely expected. “Yeah, the other one has a cockring on it, much more fun to play with than whatever you're trying to pull.”
“You're just as polyamorous as I am but where is your attraction falling currently?” Roman easily switched subjects as soon as the door was shut, ignoring his brothers comments, and squaring his shoulders.
Remus froze at the abrupt subject change. He really had been expecting it to involve fighting as Roman's visits usually did, either him having an injury or just wanting to fight someone he didn't control for a while.
“Trust me, feeding into the urge to matchmake just ends up in arguments and losing friends, Ro. Don't try it with me.” He warned, suddenly serious in a way the others often forgot he could do.
“How do you think Mr I-Don't-Have-Feelings and Trust-No-Comfort got together? Thomas having accepted his attraction makes the attempts to matchmake a lot easier I would believe.” Just the subject would of course touch on the one thing the brothers avoided talking about, but Remus hadn't expected the role of looking after Thomas's attractions to change as much as the words he heard implied it had.
He shook the thoughts off with a wriggle. “Still misses out all the juicy stuff. Ya need me for the fun times.”
“I have my own methods for the fun times and definitely don't need you for them. I do however need you to answer my question. Who are you attracted to, trash panda?” Roman crossed his arms at the attempt to divert the conversation. Remus could see the urge to fight already growing behind his eyes, the chaos and lack of order frustrating the accepted creativity almost as much as the opposite made him antsy.
“You know you can't just trap me with them Roro. That's not how we work, and much as I like seeing people tied up, all that would make me do is cause a spectacle. Blood can be a wonderful paint you know.” He was trying to suggest things that would cause Roman to reveal whatever his intentions were without acknowledging who either was talking about. At least until there was a way to ask who Roman had in mind. “Just who are you suggesting I like anyway, Brother Dearest?”
Well, there goes subtlety, Remus always was bad at it, but at least Roman was now spluttering, somewhere between admitting who and vehemently denying he had anyone in mind.  “NOBODY! Well, of course there's somebody or I wouldn't have decided on asking you instead of picking someone that doesn't constantly attack me, but Nobody.”
Deceit had seen Roman come in, heard the beginning of their chat and felt the lies resonating in him. He knew whatever the brothers were talking about had to seem important, at least to the prince, just as much as that Remus would want a way to recognise the truth.
Neither had decided on a good way to approach Virgil or Logan even now they knew most of the sides were polyamorous, and perhaps the romantic side could help with that. The shutting of Remus's door indicated a wish for privacy though, rather than an open invitation.
All the dark sides respected those signs, at least amongst themselves. Deceit still decided to use his role to help his partner, leaning against the wall of Remus's room, drawing lines with his nails as lies shuddered down his spine from things said within. Quietly enough that only people who knew this method would hear the sound as anything meaningful, but clearly an indication, he carried on doing the sign for ten minutes before any feeling of lies coming from within ceased.
Roman only glanced at him for a moment as he left, about half an hour since any lie had been told although Deceit was still curled up on a cushion he'd summoned to sit on while leaning there. He just smirked at the curious glance, waving the light side goodbye or rather in an obvious hint that he should leave more rapidly.
He still waited for a moment before joining Remus in the room, hearing a few snickers breaking out. “Dee-dee. He wants to matchmake for us.” Remus was crowing, rolling on his bed that had definitely been made by the prince given the sheets were now being methodically messed up once more.
“With who? Does he suppose us to be novices in the fields of love because he controls Thomas's romantic desires?” Dee sighed, letting the arms reaching for him become an embrace.
“Logan and Virgil of course.”
Logan had assumed that Roman would try matchmaking soon after he realised that Virgil loved Deceit and Remus. He had assumed that if the pair figured that out themselves they would soon be approaching Virgil. He had assumed a lot of things about love and romance incorrectly, especially regarding the other sides reactions to it.
Three weeks had passed since the start of all the chatter and still there was no change to the relationships of Thomas's mind-space except perhaps, Remus and Deceit properly getting together. Logan was content with that. It meant he could continue the comforting relationship with Virgil for longer and hopefully predict when it would be brought to an end by the pair Virgil loved.
He couldn't see that Remus claiming him as one of His People would particularly alter what would occur. So when Roman came asking for some grounding for an idea he was struggling with bringing into a possibility for a video of course Logan would agree, following him into the imagination. Virgil getting invited along too just made it all the more likely they would succeed in assisting.
Remus and Deceit already being present in the idea room was mildly concerning. Too much creativity could inhibit an ideas effectiveness and Deceit would be more likely to comfort them over issues than suggest real solutions.
“What idea needs both sides of creativity to form it?” Logan had to ask, immediately honing his gaze on Roman as he shifted uncomfortably.
He noted the glance and nod shared between Remus and Roman, as well as the dismissive wave Remus gave. “One that's actually mine but we don't want Patton to veto from the start. He's going to go fight the dragon witch or something while we talk it through.” Remus explained then, pulling about 20 loose sheets of paper from somewhere.
“You hate when I give input so why don't I just go with Roman?” Virgil's hesitance stopped the exit Roman was clearly trying not to make obvious now, but Logan understood. He'd heard about how Remus used to work through ideas when they got together.
The reaction wasn't expected. When talking about what they wanted to say and how Roman had suggested asking Virgil and Logan to join their relationship Deceit forgot to consider how they'd previously acted together.
A glance showed that both Creativities were lost over how to react in such a way that Virgil might stay and Logic was simply considering something so Deceit reacted instead. “Remus is ever reluctant to listen to amendments to his ideas, but we're working on it. I had hoped you'd be able to aid me in the attempts. If you're too scared of his madness though, by all means, go with Roman.”
There were a lot of things you simply shouldn't say to anxiety if you class him as an ally or friend, that sometimes made him easy to manipulate. Thankfully bringing up fear always did make him determined to face whatever he was wary about and the steel rearing in Virgil's gaze confirmed it had worked again.
“Show us the stupid idea and lets get this over with then!” Virgil growled out, already reaching to take the papers from Remus.
Letting one of the pair see what they'd actually written was not part of the plan but as Deceit watched Remus happily handed them over. “I do love it when you get all controlling Thunderclap, just makes me all tingly and excited.” Suppressing the sigh that came from Remus giving into his impulses was difficult now.
Deceit had double checked to make sure at least 2 of the pages were actually about an idea they might feasibly want Thomas to see that Remus had thought up but the majority were actually about their emotions, and reactions leading them to want this relationship. Now he would have to delay Virgil getting to those pages until Roman actually was out of the area.
“While that's all well and good, Dear, perhaps you'd like to tell Virgil and Logan about your idea? An actual battle to defend our ideas definitely needs some work to make it feasible.” He began, bringing their focus back from whatever thoughts Logan and Virgil were trying not to react to.
“Just because of editing. I don't see why we can't do it. It's not like any of us are actually going to get hurt. Thomas just acts all our roles out and he's already done me attacking Roman so why not an extra step further.” Remus was interested in the reactions he was getting now.
Virgil had looked taken aback at the innuendo and just what he'd suggested before Deceit brought their cover idea up. Logan had tilted his head, analysing something although whether that was the words or looking for any intent behind them wasn't for Remus to figure out. Deceit was the one in charge of that bit between them.
“Come on guys, there could be bloodshed, and Logan can finally get out all that pent up anger in a way other than throwing things at people. We can all be screaming and have warnings not to watch with headphones in.” He could ramble for ages about the fight idea, even the things they could use it to settle arguments about which was basically everything, and glancing to the edge of their gathering Roman had already disappeared.
Now he was just rambling, occasionally letting Logan interject with a thought over what opposition their team might have to trying to do a video like it and the technical difficulties they could face, eyes actually honed into the pages in Virgil's hand. The first page had already been passed over to Logan to look at and as soon as that second page was moved Remus was going to change the conversation on a 180degree turn. Perhaps he could literally do that with his head?
“This is definitely not your battle scenario.” Damnit Remus, getting lost in weird thoughts meant you missed the page being handed to Logan. Virgil was now staring, almost fearfully at the page which focused on Logan's many gorgeous attributes.
“But isn't it so much more interesting, Vi-vi? Just imagine what the four of us could be together! How much pleasure could be brought to you by three sets of hands instead of just one?” Sex always worked to get people to date you, even Logan had mentioned in in the valentines episode so that must be how you normally get a boyfriend.
Judging by Deceit's amused cough and Logan's raised eyebrows it might not be.
This was finally happening and Logan was shocked that he was being included in the proposition.
“Can I have some clarity? Are you asking for both of us to join your relationship or just suggesting Virgil dates the two of you in one relationship and myself separately to that?” He had to speak up, unclear over how he was included in the situation.
His inclusion could all be there for the open and healthy communication they'd discussed in regards to polyamorous relationships.
“We want to date both of you. All of us together.” Deceit confirmed, inclining his head. “How could we not with your intellect and Virgil's sharp wit. You both have us entranced although I wouldn't mind Virgil being a little less silent over his feelings now.”
That was when Virgil started a reaction Logan would never have predicted. Given all the emotions he'd been told about regarding the pair it was easy to believe Anxiety's function wasn't affecting him as much now as it had before he left.
Except the pages were being scrunched up and thrown on the floor even as Remus began speaking again. “Yes! Yes, logie, teacher, Mr Sir, Please, pretty please, ice cream covered pork chops please will you and Virgil date us?” The words lost no energy as everyone registered the reaction but Logan could see everyone's growing confusion and focus centring on Virgil.
Virgil glared at the question that had been asked and everything written on the pages he'd been holding. He took in the confused blinks from everyone including Logan. “I've already been through the pain of screwing up too much for you before. Why the hell should I open myself up to it all over again?”
He was vehement about protecting himself now. Logan had confirmed and reaffirmed that he'd always wait for Virgil to be ready to talk even before they got together. Deceit and Remus had done the opposite the day they tried to force him to speak and he couldn't take that again.
Of course he loved them, so fiercely and strongly that it was a battle to just reject them but not again, he couldn't go through that pain a second time.
Virgil saw Remus about to speak, and Deceit clearly thinking over what he could say to rectify the situation and couldn't take that either. He turned and walked out of the castle, past the boundary Roman usually made it difficult to sink out from behind and back to where he could curl up under all his blankets in his room, or maybe Patton's or Roman's someone he could get away with not wanting to talk about emotions immediately after going through them.
Silence fell as Virgil left, and not even a stray thought was in Remus's mind. His Person had just rejected possibly everything.
/\/\/\ Part 6 /\/\/\ Part Seven /\/\/\ Part Eight /\/\/\ Part Nine /\/\/\/\
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archaeopter-ace · 4 years ago
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Fic Writer Tag Gam
Tagged by @eurazba​ and @im-the-king-of-the-ocean​, thanks!
Fandoms: (I’m going to name all the ones that were ever Major Fandoms to me, past and present. As in, have I sought out at least one 40k+ fanfic for it? Usually these sorts of tag games will ask for my top ten or something, and I never get to lay them all out. Or at least as many as I can remember. Bolded my current interests)
Danny Phantom, Detective Conan, Doctor Who, Smallville, BBC Merlin, Bleach, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Lois & Clark: the New Adventures of Superman, Buffy the Vampire Slayer*, Good Omens, White Collar, The Dresden Files, Stargate SG-1, Rurouni Kenshin, Spider-Man, MCU, Marvel 616, Loki: Agent of Asgard, Supernatural, Young Justice, Blue Exorcist, Star Wars, Avatar the Last Airbender, Rise of the Guardians, The Flash, Welcome to Night Vale, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, Gravity Falls, Lucifer, Detroit: Become Human, Sherlock, Tales of Arcadia
* Once upon a time I read a lot of Buffy crossovers, and then moved on to straight Buffy fics, without ever having seen any of the show. I did eventually see some episodes, but the vast bulk of my knowledge comes purely from fanfic
Where you post: Sometimes here on tumblr, though I don’t think I have it all unified under one tag, since my-writing is also used for meta talking about my writing...
AO3 is the best place to find the most up-to-date versions of my stuff. It’s a pain to correct typos on ffnet so I generally don’t, though there’s a couple of older fics there that I haven’t crossposted because they are incomplete.
Most popular multi-chapter fic: Internal Affairs with 7593 hits. It is the most-bookmarked Barry Allen & David Singh fic on AO3, whoot! It’s niche, but it’s a good niche
Favorite story you’ve written so far: Hard to say between Autoeponym and Metamorphosis. They’re both part of the same AU, and I’m just really excited about it :D
Fic you were nervous to post: Relative Truth. It was the first work I ever posted that was meant to be taken seriously (as opposed to cracky 100 word crossover drabbles), and it was my first plotty, multichaptered fic. Who knows, some day I might even finish it! ;P It’s only been eight years...
How you choose your titles: If the show has a particular pattern of naming, I try to match that if I can. So since White Collar has double-meaning titles, I went with Relative Truth, playing on the fact that truths are revealed about Neal’s family tree. 
Otherwise, I gravitate towards one-word titles (perhaps a result of the fact that I first started really paying attention to episode titles with Smallville). I further have a fondness for somewhat obscure and/or sciency terms, so Keraunopathy, Inertia, Philae, Autoeponym, Metamorphosis - but in the case of chapter titles in a one-shot collection, it might just be the topic or central thing that inspired it (Ice Cream, Chickenpox, Awake, Slumber, Cockroaches). 
More rarely, I’ll use a longer phrase or pull from an idiom - Cisco Answers the Phone, Henry Allen Has Never Been Rick-Rolled, The Girl in the Mirror, Where There’s a Will.
Do you outline: Yes, to varying degrees. Sometimes I treat it like writing an essay and just lay out my ‘topic sentences’ in order, so I know what happens in each paragraph, and then I have a place to ‘file’ whatever bits of writing I do. Sometimes for something more plotty I’ll have it organized more like a typical outline with different levels, although what usually ends up happening is I’ll start and stop several different outline attempts, and then stitch together what bits I can into a Frankenstein outline that may or may not actually be followed.
Right now, for Don’t Listen to Kafka, I’m attempting my most ambitious, color-coded storyboard to date
Complete: Inertia, my Flash one-shot collection, has finally been marked complete since the odds are quite low that I’ll ever return to that fandom, but the whims of my attentions have surprised me before, so who’s to say. Internal Affairs, the Singh spin-off of that one, has likewise been marked completed. The Haunting of Harrison Wells was successfully written on a deadline, for an event.
More recently, The Girl in the Mirror, Autoeponym, Metamorphosis, Mohs Scale, and I Was a Teenage Troll are call complete, though all but the first are part of in-progress series, so...
In progress: The aforementioned Relative Truth, though at some point I should probably just admit it’s a dead!fic. It’s just really hard to let go completely. 
As-yet-untitled next work in Don’t Listen to Kafka. While Claire might know about trolls, there’s still a gaping baby-brother-shaped hole in her knowledge. Somebody should do something about that...
The bit-after-the-next-bit-which-might-be-its-own-bit-or-might-be-a-separate-fic: Jim’s transformation continues! Barbara knows krav maga! Plans are made! Haemerythrin, the oxygen-binding pigment of marine worms, becomes a relevant analogy!
Some more one-shots in I Was A Teenage Troll AU, because I have a lot of backstory that I haven’t used yet. 
Coming soon/not yet started:
As long was we understand ‘soon’ to be highly subjective and subject to change:
A Gravity Falls x Trollhunters crossover. Man, I love reading crossovers but I haven’t written that many...
The Garage. Told from a Changeling’s POV, who was able to keep working as a mechanic at his garage even after he lost his human form when the Familiars were rescued (because he’d already been outed as a troll years before). The story begins when Jim shows up at the garage with a message for Craig Dunlin.
Hey Brother. What I call the Vermont Half-Brother AU. Written entirely in epistolary form, because I’ve never used a groupchatting app in my life and I don’t think I could write a chatfic between two people convincingly. On the other hand, it’s hard to justify writing letters back and forth when both of them have cell phones...
Do you accept prompts: I like the idea of prompts but I know for a fact that I would not be able to fill them. I’m not a very prolific writer at the best of times, imagining I could fill a prompt in any sort of timely manner is sheer fantasy.
Upcoming story you are most excited to write: Don’t Listen to Kafka. My outline is almost solid enough that I feel like I have enough of a framework to start working on details, and I love working on details.
I tag:
 @rockymountainvixen​ @luvtheheaven​ @kalajorn​
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motherhenna · 5 years ago
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Writers Rants: Backstory
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How to Smoothly Integrate a Character’s Past into the Narrative
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If you are even remotely interested in the process of writing, then you’ve probably heard this phrase at least a hundred times over: show, don’t tell.  Such a vague sentiment, but hell if it doesn’t pack a punch. In fact, it’s probably one of the only “rules” of storytelling that ought to be followed as closely as possible and as often as possible—at least in my opinion. But what, exactly, does it mean? In layman’s terms, show don’t tell is a simple recommendation: that authors should actively illustrate a concept rather than passively explain it. Why? Simple. One leaves the reader more room for interpretation and draws them deeper into the action at hand, and the other just…well, tells them what to see and what to feel in the same way a set of DIY instructions describe how to make a quirky set of kitchen lights out of mason jars. While yes, you got a straightforward idea of what to expect, did you actually have fun reading it?
These basic concepts are important to understand if you consider yourself a writer of any kind, as they function as the foundation for a) improving your prose, b) strengthening your characters, and c) forming a flowing narrative that will catch and keep readers’ attention.  And naturally, this also applies to the art of exposition.
Most people with even a cursory knowledge of telling a story know that characters should never be blank slates. If you have any desire to portray even a facsimile of real life, you have to put at least some effort into fleshing out the main characters. And when I say ‘flesh out’, I mean do more than just describing what they look like, a laundry list of personality traits, and what they’re wearing. I’m not going to go into this process deeply, as that’s a matter for another think-piece entirely, but it’s a starting point for the more convoluted parts to come. What I’m building up to is that your characters need a backstory, especially if they’re the one(s) through whom we, as readers, experience the story, i.e., the point of view (POV) character. This applies to both first- and third-person limited narratives, unless you’re going for a more anonymous / incidental narrator, like Mr. Lockwood in Wuthering Heights.
Now, these backstories don’t have to be a strict, detailed, chronological transcription of every year in that character’s life (though doing so certainly doesn’t hurt!) Rather, you should write it much like you would describe your own life if you had to plot it out on a timeline. At first, just stick with the most essential elements: where and when in history they were born, whether they have siblings or present family, and a simple list of significant events from various periods in their life. What specific things have most influenced who they are as a person, for good or ill? Next, it’s time to look at the family, since nothing impacts an individual more than how they were raised and how they were treated during their formative years. Were their parents present during their childhood? What was their parents’ relationship like before and after your character’s birth? Are they natives of the country in which the story is set, or did they immigrate—and if they immigrated, why did they do so? All of these and more are, to me at least, vital to developing a well-rounded and realistic character. I’ve even gone so far as to type out entire timelines for each character as well as their parents. Personalities, quirks, trauma—these are all just as hereditary as one’s genes, though this doesn’t mean that this inheritance has to be through blood. Nature vs. Nurture: they’re both equally important in the formation of an individual.
…So, what to do when you’ve finished all that? Do you dutifully transcribe it into the first chapter of your story? Absolutely not. Copy it into a separate document window and keep it there. A large chunk of this is for your benefit: most likely, less than half of it will make it into the written canon of the novel, and for good reason. All of that detailed history isn’t for the reader, it’s for you to use as a framework. Some of the most powerful elements to realistic characters are the unseen, the implied: all the hidden little things that lie just under the surface, but are never fully visible to the naked eye.
What a lot of inexperienced writers may not realize is that everything doesn’t always have to be stated unequivocally through dialogue or info-dumps. How often, in real life, do acquaintances explain upfront that this specific behavior they often exhibit is a result of how they were abandoned by their father and raised by an emotionally distant mother? Most people don’t psychoanalyze everything, nor do we ourselves do it to others—at least not often! Plus, it’s boring. Getting to know characters over the course of a story should be comparable to meeting a new friend. You find out the surface things at first, but pick up bits and pieces along the way that hint at what lies deeper inside. Little by little, you learn about their family, their hopes, dreams, fears…not always directly, and sometimes even in spite of their desire to keep up a front of normalcy.
With all this said, I think it’s become clear where I stand on backstory: it should be subtle, woven gradually into the narrative rather than stated by the character themselves or described by an omniscient narrator. Not only does this make the process of reading about it flow better and progress more naturally, it’s also far more interactive. Instead of being told why a character acts the way they do, the reader can catalogue said character’s actions, motivations, dialogue, and the way they interact with their surroundings, gradually putting the puzzle pieces together for themselves. In a sense, it’s almost a reward for those who read with a careful, inquisitive eye, and can be just as satisfying as solving a mystery before the detective does in a murder mystery.
I’ve used—and will continue to use—a lot of metaphors in this section because it’s the most thorough way I can to explain this process and why it’s so important. That being said, I approach backstory in the same way I might organize a scavenger hunt. It’s not about a treasure map, but rather an ongoing set of little discoveries without which the ultimate prize can never be found. But in keeping with this analogy, why would anyone want to take part in this if a) they’re just given the prize’s location outright, or b) don’t really care about the prize anyway?
When you’re straight-up told about character’s backstory within the first few chapters, there’s no groundwork for investment. Why should I care about this character’s history if I don’t even know them yet? Investment is a gradual process, and ought to be an interactive process too. One of the best strategies of implying backstory without stating it directly is illustrating how a character reacts to specific triggers. Yes, you can tell the reader in the character’s introductory paragraph that he was almost killed in a house fire as a child, which still haunts him to this day—but how else can you impart this information more effectively and poignantly? For some examples, he might…
Be too frightened to turn on the stove.
Avoid any type of matches or aerosol at all costs.
Get anxious when filling up his car at gas stations.
Constantly check and re-check the smoke detectors throughout his apartment
Panic when he smells her neighbor’s lit fireplace.
Why would we need to explain to readers what made him this way when we have all the evidence we need to figure it out for ourselves? Of course, there’s nothing wrong with, later on down the line, this character actively opening up about this trauma to a friend or therapist, as this is only natural and also supplies us with details we would have never known otherwise. This just shouldn’t be the first way we find it out.
Another efficient and interesting approach to gradual backstory incorporation is through dialogue. The way a character responds to nosy questions, criticisms, or simple observations tell a lot about the kind of people they are and how they’re coping (or not coping) with potentially painful parts of their personal histories / insecurities. For example, Character A can ask Character B, “Why don’t you want to go out tonight?” In truth, B is trying to back out of these plans because she can’t fit into a dress she was supposed to wear for the party, and is trying desperately not fall back into the pit dug by the various eating disorders she has suffered from since adolescence. She is afraid her friends will want to take group pictures, or remark on what’s she’s eating or not eating, or notice the extra pudge in her stomach. She remembers how her mother would chide her for eating second helpings when she was young, or all the times her ex called her fat. But B is not going to be capable of explaining all of this to her partner. So how does she respond?
1.     “I just…feel tired all of a sudden…but don’t let me keep you from going.  I don’t want to spoil your night.” Implication: saving face—she doesn’t want to reveal her real insecurities, so she uses a physical illness as a cover story.
2.      “What’s it to you? If this stupid party so important to you, then you can just go without me!”  Implication: defensiveness—she is uncomfortable being vulnerable, and lashes out instead.
Now obviously these are just two examples of a plethora of different responses a person might have to a question like this. But what matters is that each answer should give the reader some sort of information as to why said character reacts the way they do. And these reactions don’t have to have traumatic roots, either! Perhaps, because Character C’s older sister always encouraged them to stick up for and respect themselves, C is able to take that positive reinforcement and pay it forward, inspired to protect others who may not know how to protect themselves.  Positive change ripples and spreads just as much as negativity, and should never be discounted just because a character has gone through their fair share of tragedy, too.
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In short, there is nothing simple or easy about creative writing—there is so much nuance involved in every aspect, though that shouldn’t discourage newcomers from experimenting and taking everything step by step. There are no absolutes in writing, and every rule can be challenged, so take what I say with a grain of salt. But still, I cannot emphasize enough the importance of backstory when developing strong characters, nor how much more natural a narrative will feel when these things are integrated with subtlety and grace. Your characters should never be objects, concepts, or a means to an end: if you want to make them seem real to your readers, then they must first seem real to you.
...And real people all have their own stories: to find them, all you have to do is watch and listen.    
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thosequeenboys · 5 years ago
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Slippery When Wet (Roger Taylor x Brian May)
Summary: Approaching the end of their American tour, Roger and Brian find some welcome – and rare -- intimate time alone. Roger urges Brian to demonstrate his Instagram shower safety tips.
A/N: This story was inspired by Brian’s August Instagram post about shower safety.   Though focused on current Maylor, there is a flashback to their earlier years. It is being published for the “Maylor Week 2019 Making Love” prompt.  Bolded text is referenced at the end.
Warnings:  SMUT (18+ only). Shower sex, anyone? 
Roger and Brian mingle with staff and visitors backstage after the show, feeling the end of the tour nearing, with only two more shows to go on their American tour.   They nurse increasingly warm drinks, as they tell jokes and express gratitude. Suddenly, they their eyes lock in a knowing glance acknowledging to each other their eagerness to leave.  The high from the show had started to fade, and suddenly, they are done.  They no longer have the need to down countless drinks, make witty conversation and stay up all night.
“Adam, we’re going to head out, mate.” Roger says.
Oh, sure, I’ll see you tomorrow,”  Adam says as he hugs Roger and then Brian. The men yell a thank you and give a wave, receiving a round of applause as they leave.  The adulation still feels good even after all these years.
“Want to come in for a nightcap.” Brian asks once they settle into their waiting car.
“So long as it’s a cold one-absolutely!” Roger says, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his brow of the oppressive American humidity.  They enter Brian’s suite and Brian goes to the frig.  “Beer?”  
“Sure,” Roger says, throwing his green velvet blazer on the club chair.  They both sit heavily on the couch, and each lean into the soft pillows positioned against the arm rests at the opposite ends of the couch.
Brian looks up at Roger.  It has been months since they sat together  -  alone. Sarina was on the tour for a bit and left a week before for London; Anita is starring in a show on the West End.
“It feels good to sit and relax.”  Brian says. “With you,” he adds with a warm smile.
“Yeah, we haven’t been together--er, hung out in a while.” Roger corrects himself quickly in his raspy voice as he sips his beer.  He lets himself bask in the special solace of being alone with Brian May: the warmth, comfort, familiarity.  Then, of course, there is the backdrop of desire.
It has been awhile, hasn’t it?”  Brian says, glancing at Roger as he sinks back into the couch. Suddenly, Brian takes his phone from his jacket pocket.  “Oh, my, look at this.  My Instagram post from earlier today has over 10,000 likes-in just a few hours!!”
“Ooh, impressive!” Roger’s voice rises, feigning excitement.  “And what topic is Dr. May expounding on today-the cosmos? hedgeho…?”
Brian cuts him off.  “No actually, it was a post about shower safety in hotels.  There have been many instances of people getting injured slipping in hotel showers. Laying down a towel is the perfect solution.”  He interrupts himself.  “Listen to this!  Brian-Mayday wrote “I’m so glad you posted this, Brian!  I travel for work and will follow your wise advice-and avoid injury. Smile emoji.”  
“Keeping everyone safe, while entertaining and educating the world.  That’s our Brian.”  Roger states, while thinking to himself, shower safety, WTF?.  
Roger eyes Brian whose head is bent over as he scrolls through his phone reading comments, some aloud, clearly tickled.   He takes in Brian’s grey locks cascading down his shoulders and his open shirt, revealing his smooth, still-firm chest.  Roger blinks and a sly smirk spreads on his face as an image pops into his view -- it was another time, another Brian: dark curls also drape into his open shirt. He was folded into himself on the couch, hunched over a paper he was writing due at week’s end, grasping a pencil.  They were positioned as they were this evening-leaning into the opposite arm rests of the couch, their legs tangled in the middle of the cushions.  
“This isn’t right!” Brian said, agitatedly pulling his legs up under him and resting his notebook on them. He stared at it.  
“Read it aloud,” Roger urged and Brian read the essay slowly.
“I think you need to switch up the sentences in the first two paragraphs to better support your thesis sentence.” Roger suggested. “Here-let me see.” Brian passed him the notebook and Roger and Brian talked through the paragraphs, batting around ideas, as they leaned toward each other to look at the notebook.
“Ah, I think this will work.” Brian said nodding, his mouth forming a slight smile, relieved by the clarity.
“Yup.  Just needed some reorganizing.  Your supporting evidence is solid.” Roger said confidently handing the notebook back to Brian, who took it. Leaning back into his end of the couch, he scribbled some notes based on their discussion.
“I have a question for you,” Roger asked pensively from the other end of the couch, cocking his head.  Brian looked up and leaned forward, his brow furrowed, eager to hear the question to further spark his thinking on his paper.  
“What do I have to do to get laid around here?” Roger asked, trying and failing to hide a grin.
Brian raised an eyebrow and his mouth curled into an O, expressing surprise. “Here I was thinking you were going to come up with a brilliant idea about my paper….”
“Did that.  Now I’m ready to put other parts of myself to use.  I have a head for science AND a bod for sin.” (1) Roger said in a husky voice, turning on the charm, flashing his lovely smile, his baby blues sparkling underneath long, batting eyelashes.
“Do you, now?” Brian asked, grinning at Roger, turned on by his boldness. “Well, in answer to your question--That depends if you’re a good boy…” Brian purred, trying to be flirtatious.  
“I’ve been very good…I just helped you…”  Roger said softly.
“That you did,” Brian said.  Suddenly overcome with lust, he threw the notebook and pencil on the floor and launched his body forward, crawling on all fours across the couch. He settled between Roger’s legs that were opened to receive him.  
Looking into Roger’s beautiful eyes, he ran his fingers through his soft hair. He started to kiss Roger’s lips hungrily.  Roger returned the kisses firmly, staring deeply into Brian’s eyes, signaling he was ready for more.  Brian’s tongue licked Roger’s lips and he parted them, allowing Brian’s tongue to probe him. Roger gasped as his tongue explored Brian.  After a few moments, Brian pulled away and started his descent, kissing and sucking down Roger’s neck, unbuttoning his shirt as he moved down his bare, smooth chest.  He stopped to take off the shirt and then ran his hand up and down Roger’s chest sternum to belly button.  He bent and sucked a nipple and licked his calloused fingers, gently tugging at the other.  “Oh, God,” Roger said, thrusting up, as Brian continued to focus on his chest, his long graceful fingers grazing over his fair torso.  
“You’re so sensitive.  I could stay here just at your chest, watching you writhe and listening to you moan under me. You’re so beautiful.” Brian uttered. After generating more moans from Roger and feeling his heartbeat quicken, Brian kissed down his taut abs, speaking in between each kiss.  “Roger. Taylor. I love you.  Your talent.  Your passion for music.  Your cheekiness. Your smarts. Your warmth. Your caring. Your bod!”  He giggled.  “Did I mention your intelligence? You are the real deal….”
“I bet you say that to all the boys,” (2) Roger said with a laugh, deflecting Brian’s serious sentiments.
Brian pulled off his chest and looked at Roger intensely, concerned.  “No, Roger. I don’t.  You’re the only one I love.  And, I want to show you how much I love you.”
Brian sat up slightly and unbuttoned and unzipped Roger’s pants and slid his fingers under the waistband, caressing his hipbones, ever so gently.  
Roger panted. “I…I love you too, but God, bloody take them off…”
****
“Ohmygoodness!”  Brian’s giddy enthusiasm brings Roger back to the present as the image of their youthful student life and lovemaking vanishes.  
“These comments are incredible!  People really appreciate my message and photos! Look at this shot,” Brian turns his phone and shows Roger a photo of his bare leg stepping into the shower placing his foot on the towel.  
“Oh, I must respond to this to this comment.”  
“Seriously?? You’re going to respond to comments all night?”  Roger is SO over freaking Instagram and is clearly losing his patience.  They finally have time together, and…
“So, I have a question, Brian…” Roger says earnestly.
“Hmmmm?” Brian asks half listening, clearly distracted as he types a comment. 
“What do I have to do to get laid around here?”  Roger’s eyes bored into him as he smirks.
Brian looks up.  “You want to…??”  They each have an agreement with their wives-and always had.  They have an occasional thing.  It goes way back and is the reflection of their emotional, intellectual, musical and physical connection-and their history.   It doesn’t detract from the strong love they have for their wives. It is a different connection and bond. Their wives accept the arrangement.   It’s been almost a year since they had been together.
“Actually, BrianMayForReal,” Roger snickers, using Brian’s Instagram name, “I was thinking I’d like you to show me your shower safety tips.  First-hand, so to speak.  Up close and personal.”
“Is that what you’re thinking?” Brian’s mouth opens slightly, as Roger climbs on all fours toward Brian and eases the phone from Brian’s hand, reaching over him to place it on the end table.  “Christ, I gotta take some clothes off,” Roger pants, sitting up to urgently unbutton and throw off his shirt and then lifting his hips to dislodge his pants.  
In just his underwear, Roger lays on top of Brian glad that he successfully turned Brian’s attention away from Instagram.  They lock eyes and then lips.  Roger starts kissing Brian hungrily as he pins Brian’s arms by his side.  Brian’s eyes fly open as he tries to move his arms.  
“Easy, my good boy,” Roger coos.  “I got you.”  He starts to unbutton Brian’s shirt as his mouth trails behind making its way down his smooth chest, aching to heat things up.  
“Roger, wait. Come up here.” Brian says suddenly, sitting up, shifting Roger and releasing his hands from the blonde’s grasp in the process.  He finishes the buttons on his shirt and tosses it.  Roger looks at him, confused by the directive to halt.  But he eases himself up over Brian’s long, now bare, torso to align his face with Brian’s.  
“Let me hold you,” Brian says.  He embraces Roger, hugging him into his chest, and stroking his back.  Roger lets his weight sink into Brian, resting his head in the crook of Brian’s neck, sheltered by the taller man’s flowing hair. Though their bodies have changed over the years, the way they piece together so easily has not. Between them lay over 50 years of friendship, music, brotherhood. Fifty years of love beat in their two hearts, now beating in unison.
“Roger,” says Brian, very present.  “Let’s appreciate this moment together - and what we’re about to do.  And why.”
Roger laughs. “You don’t think this is a wham, bam, thank you, Ma’am situation-do you? Like I’m gonna sneak out in the middle of the night and not call you again?  Brian, I get your having an emotional moment, but I need to get off, and given that it takes some time these days…”
Brian chuckles. “I know,  I want to also. It’s just...during the show, the memories started flooding in…..and you’re the constant in them.  We’re the constant.”
‘Yes, that is true.” Roger says, considering Brian’s sentiments.
Brian continues, “Through most of my life-good, bad-all of it. I could – I can - count on you…” I love you. And, I want to make love to you….” Brian says, his eyes tearing a bit.  
“I love you too. AND, I‘m glad you can tear yourself away from Instagram to focus on me…and us.” Roger smiles.  “So, how about we get those pants off?”
And with that, Roger eases Brian out of his pants and positions himself over him, thrusting into him.  They move together, feeling each other getting hard, delighted that even after all these years they still turn each other on so easily, so quickly.  
Roger looks at him, panting heavily.  “So…how about those shower tips.”
“Ah yes,” Brian said.
They help each other up and, holding hands, walk to the large bathroom with a walk – in shower that easily accommodates two.  
“Here, let me demonstrate.”  Brian says, assuming a professorial tone and grabbing a bunch of rolled hand towels from the generous supply neatly organized in a wicker basket on the floor.   “See, you lay them out – around the drain-not over it-before you step in.  And, let me put one near the wall, since no doubt that’s where you’ll be spending some time.”  He winks, as he positions the towel.  He grabs two large towels and spreads them on the towel warmer next to the shower and turns it on.  Then, he removes his boxers and steps onto a towel, reaching his arm out to Roger who grasps it and enters the shower, stepping on a towel opposite him.  Brian turns on the water which warms instantly and he embraces Roger. They kiss passionately, lathering each other up with musk shower gel and smoothing it over each other’s bodies. Brian starts to caress Roger’s cock and the drummer moans. “God I love hearing you …” Brian says as Roger grasps the guitarist’s firm arms to steady himself as he starts to rock in time to Brian’s movements on his member.
“Turn around, let me help you.” Brian helps Roger spin around and step on the towel closest to the wall and then grabs the bath oil from the shelf.  He prepares Roger, who steps his legs wider. When he’s ready, Brian enters him slowly, running his hand up Roger’s back, as Roger moans, bending toward the wall.
“Oh, babe, that’s good…” Roger says.
Brian wraps his other hand around Roger’s cock, and they both moan softly, continuing their movements. The warm water flows over them, as they move together reflecting their love, which changed and grew through the years - a love that celebrated their triumphs; cushioned their disappointments and frustrations; contained and sheltered them when their lives unraveled in unexpected ways.
‘M close,” Roger grunts, finally, and Brian picks up his pace.  Roger climaxes, Brian follows.  They continue to move together and finally Brian separates.  Roger turns around, his back against the shower wall and Brian plants gentle kisses on his face and his neck.  
“That was great.  Amazing, actually.” Roger says. Brian winks at him and turns to shut off the water.  
“Yes, it was. As usual. Stay there.”  Brian gives him a kiss on the mouth and steps on a towel close to the door to grab the warmed towels.  He gives one to Roger and starts to dry himself off.  
They exit the shower and grab the plush white robes hanging on the hooks.  
“So, what do you think of my shower safety tips?”  Brian asks intensely as they tie their robes and walk toward the bedroom.  
“Very effective!”  Roger compliments.  “Glad you won’t be posting that demo on your Instagram account though.”  
They both burst into laughter as they climb into bed, wrapping their limbs around each other and embrace.  
 @iamnotbrianmay​ @warriorteam1924​ @hey-holtzy​
Notes
1.      This is based on a quote was spoken by Tess McGill, a smart secretary, played by Melanie Griffith to an executive, Jack Trainer, played by Harrison Ford, in the 1988 film Working Girl, a movie about working your way up in the corporate world. I substituted ‘head for business’ to ‘head for science’ to reflect our science-y Roger.
2.      This line is from the song “You took the Words Right out of my Mouth (Hot Summer Night)” by Meat Loaf.
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starlling-writes · 5 years ago
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Turn Around
- Neutral Human x Neutral Monster (not really romantic, but some suggestions of it) - Dark-ish fantasy - 3,700 words - Teen [PG-13] - Contains: swearing; mild instances of violence; mild suggestive themes; ambiguous ending – potential suicidal interpretation; trypophobia mention (when you read the line, “Tonight we were watching a random monster B-movie,” skip to the next paragraph to avoid the description) - Inspired by this prompt [pictured below] from @write-it-motherfuckers​ - Writing Masterlist
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My first memory of the rule was when I was a toddler and my parents were teaching me how to turn around. If I turned to the side, I just had to keep my focus straight ahead. If I turned more than ninety degrees, then I had to close my eyes, turn, and only when I was facing the direction I needed to go could I open my eyes again.
Back then it didn’t seem an odd thing to specifically teach a child. I was an infant—incapable of the cognition to ask such questions. But they taught me that I couldn’t carelessly turn around. They taught me it was rude and wrong to just glance over my shoulder.
Just before my fifth birthday, my parents were dead strict about one rule: I must never look behind me. It’s a matter of life and death, they’d lecture but never explained any more than that. I could still look in mirrors and use cameras and such. It was only direct observation behind myself that I couldn’t do.
They tested me, calling to me from behind on the days leading up to my birthday. But by then their teachings were so ingrained in me. It instantly became clear how serious I needed to treat this after I turned five. It also radically changed the kind of childhood I led.
My next day back at kindergarten was a disaster. Half the other kids started screaming, crying when I entered the classroom. No one would come close to me. The teacher did her best to calm them but it’s hard to sooth children when you yourself are so obviously unnerved and weary.
My parents started homeschooling me then.
It wasn’t all bad. For first grade, they set up a special stream of the classroom for me. It was almost like I was there. I could see everyone; they could see me on a screen. And no one screamed. They asked if I was a robot—I was just a face on screen and a voice over speakers—but they weren’t afraid of me. For classes like gym and art, special teachers came to our home.
It was lonely, never having anyone to play with now. But I favored the solitude to their cries.
To my parents’ chagrins, I became numb to everyone’s reactions rather quickly. It was only ever an issue around younger kids anyways. Most older children and adults could control themselves and keep their reactions to looks and quick excuses to leave.
As a teenager, I got cocky about whatever it was that everyone saw behind me. I pushed the boundaries of everything. I stayed out late and walked home alone. I snuck into concerts I was too young for. Every situation that I should have feared being in, I sought out. No one ever messed with me; and that gave me a small invincibility complex.
When I was seventeen, I finally had my first experience in love. I was at some horror punk show and this guy kept looking over at me all night and smiling. It was weird, but it was a nice change from the looks of fright and aversion. When the bands were switching out he approached me and started flirting with me. I was so taken aback that someone was showing interest in me that I didn’t give any thought about if I was actually attracted to him—I wasn’t in a position to be picky. We talked and danced all night. After the event closed, we loitered in the parking lot. He even kissed me.
It was the best night of my life. But then he asked me something that was… just wrong.
“So uh, did you sell your soul to that thing or something?”
“What?”
“That freaky thing behind you,” he gestured around me. “Have you ever killed someone with it?”
It became quickly clear that he wasn’t interested in me at all. I thought I had noticed his gaze drifting behind me throughout the night; but I had written it off as him enjoying the event. The questions became more invasive as I fumbled around noncommittal answers.
Then he got aggressive. Being even less accustomed to physical contact with people, I flipped out. I screamed and shut my eyes and flailed. I fell on the ground and scurried until I felt grass. I got up and looked back at where the asshole and I had been talking. He was lying prone on the ground. Silent. Unmoving. Half of me wanted to see what happened to him. The other half wanted to run home and forget I ever met him.
The latter side won.
Back home, I crept into the bathroom. I stripped to my underwear and braced my hands on either side of the sink, doing my best to calm down. It was stupid to think someone had genuine interest in me. I glared at my reflection. Like always, I saw nothing behind me. “The fucking hell are you?” I mumbled aloud.
If you want to know so badly, look and see.
I jumped back and almost, almost, looked over my shoulder at the sudden new voice. It could speak? It was sentient? My heart was thundering like a herd of wild mustangs. All this time I could talk to it. Why had my parents never mentioned that? It took me a minute to find my ability to speak. “What… what’s your name?”
It chuckled impishly, the sound moving from my right side to my left. So many years, and now you ask?
“I didn’t know I could talk to you,” I defended. “You’ve been with me most my life; you should know I haven’t been told anything about you even when I asked.”
It simply hummed affirmatively.
“What will happen if I look at you?” I wasn’t expecting to get an answer but I had to ask.
Turn and find out.
As I figured. Now that my shock subsided, I turned on the faucet. “Why are you following me?” I splashed water on my face as I waited for its answer, but I didn’t receive one. I patted my face dry then went to my room. “Am I cursed?”
—“Did my parents make a deal with a demon or something?”
—“Do you hate having to follow me?”
—“How old are you?
Each question I came up with was met with silence. It was a jerk move considering the thing gave my crap not even five minutes ago for never talking to it before. I grabbed a pillow off my bed and chucked it behind me. It let out a single snort. I sighed in defeat and curled up on the window seat, staring out at the view I’d grown to hate over the years.
“Are you lonely too?”
Just when I thought I’d still get only silence, it responded. At times.
It was a bit weird, but I was happy to hear its answer. Then an urge came over me. It had been so long since I had a connection with someone—I was not counting tonight with that creep. Maybe, just maybe, we could at least be friendlier. “What would you like me to call you?”
Why are you persistent to learn about me?
“Why not?” I shrugged. “We’re stuck together. You’ve had no choice in learning things about me. And I doubt you get an opportunity to chat with other… whatever you are.”
It—they? I didn’t know how to address it/them—was silent again. What did it say that even the monster that followed me didn’t want to be my friend? I shut my eyes and started playing music in my mind.
Zastrozuth.
 From that night on, Zastrozuth and I grew closer. They weren’t the most talkative, but neither was I. Now their presence held a level of comfort. And when I moved away from home, I didn’t feel lonely.
Zas was great at helping me hang things straight. They also helped me when I was too indecisive to make a choice on dinner, or on my outfit. While we only had little moments like this, they were the deepest connections I had ever had. I cherished them.
Perhaps a bit too much, as the years went on.
It was a rainy, autumn evening. I was home watching movies with Zas. Tonight we were watching a random monster B-movie. The FX makeup was pretty on point, which made me cringe and gag a bit when a trypophobic’s nightmare showed up oozing slime out of its many holes. I didn’t have that phobia but this thing—yeesh! Anyone would be creeped out by it.
While imagining what touching that monster would feel like, my thoughts ended up drifting to Zas. What did they feel like? Were they furry, or scaly, or slimy? I wasn’t even sure if they had a physical form. Presumably, they were a phantom following behind me; but that doesn’t mean they were always like that.
“Can I touch you?” I absently asked before I could stop myself. The moment the words left my lips I cringed and clarified, “Like, if I reached behind me right now—would I feel you?”
No.
“Oh.” I should have guessed. But like with all the questions I had about Zas, I had to ask—my curiosity about them was unrelenting.
Then they asked, Do you want to touch me?
Heat rose to my cheeks. The way they said it just sent my mind straying towards red lights. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I defended.
Like what?
Nope. I was not playing that game. They might not be able to control the way their voice made the words sound, but they’d been in this world long enough to understand the implications of their wording. Maybe it was my lack of human interaction that made it feel… intimate. Regardless, the idea joined the many curiosities I had about Zas.
This was not how movie night was supposed to go!
“Never mind,” I said, no longer wanting to be in this conversation. “It was just a random question that came to mind.” I shouldn’t have asked. I adjusted and snuggled deeper into the couch cushion. This movie was failing to grab my attention anymore.
I can ask.
“Huh?”
While you sleep. I can ask if there is a way.
“Oh. Um… Sure, I guess. You don’t have to, but it’s up to you,” I floundered. So many more questions flooded my mind. But I kept them all to myself. As much as I wanted to learn more, I would never know much about Zastrozuth. It was for the best. Probably.
When I woke up the next morning, I already wanted it to be over. “Morning, Zas,” I yawned.
You did not rest well.
“Nope.” My straying thoughts had kept me awake for hours. Then I had unnerving dreams that I couldn’t remember the details of now but left a haunting impression. It didn’t help when I remembered what we had talked about last night. I stretched then curled back up on my side, tugging my blanket up to my chin. I didn’t expect to feel this anxious. “Any news?”
It could be done. But it would require manifesting on your plane.
“And what would that mean exactly?”
I’m unaware if I’ll be able to demanifest afterwards. If I can’t, you’d see me in mirrors and cameras.
“Would… would that trigger the thing? If I saw you that way—would that still count?”
I am unaware.
“I see.” So either things could stay how they are, or I could give up mirrors and selfies so I could touch them. Then I realized something else. “Would it be difficult for you to follow me if you manifested?”
There was a pause before they answered.
It would be an adjustment.
“So yes,” I sighed. I sat up and scratched my head, frustrated by this decision. I kicked off my blanket and started to get ready for the day.
This would be a major decision.
Zas didn’t bring it up again, but it weighed heavy on my mind the rest of the morning. I tried to push it from my thoughts but it would creep back up. “What do you think?” I suddenly asked them.
Think of what?
“About the manifesting thing. Is it even something you’d want?”
They took their time thinking it over then finally exhaled in a frustrated, overthinking manner. I am not sure.
“Well if it’s something that you don’t want, I’m not going to ask it of you. If you ever decided that you’d like to, then we can talk about it more then. Sound good?”
Their gentle breath on my neck made me shiver. It wasn’t often they were close enough for me to feel their presence. You’re an odd human.
“You’re only noticing this now?” I snickered. Their answering growl made me laugh more.
A few years later, I found a cheap, little house in the middle of nowhere to rent. It was ironic that I sought such solitude now when I had despised it as a kid. But this solitude was different. This house was mine. In this space, I had no worries. Unlike with my previous apartments, I didn’t have neighbors—no one around to side-eye me. This solitude was freedom.
On a gorgeous, sunny day, I decided to venture down to the lake that was a short bike ride away. A couple of the locals had houses along its perimeter but they were spaced out enough that I didn’t feel worried about anyone seeing and bothering Zas and me. The water was still on the nippy side but I swam anyway—or rather, awkwardly doggy-paddled since I never had lessons.
Swimming didn’t last long. Between my lack of athleticism and the chilly waters, I soon retreated to my towel on the shore. “Hey, Zas?” I asked while sunning myself.
Yes?
“Do you ever think about that one question I had asked?”
Be specific or I will eat you.
I snorted, unfazed by their dark humor. “About touching,” I said. The creepy feel of seaweed brushing my legs when I was swimming brought my train of thought back to that question. I wiggled my toes in the sand while I waited for their answer.
A time or two.
“And your thoughts?” I cautiously asked.
This wasn’t the first time I had thought about it since the night I asked. I wouldn’t admit it, but it was partially why I moved here; why I didn’t have stainless steel appliances; why the bathroom mirror was the only one in the house. It was all in case Zas manifested and reflections of them now triggered the spell between us.
Do… you still desire it?
I was not ready for that, so I deflected. “That’s not an answer.”
They gruffly sighed. The longer they didn’t answer, the more I wished I hadn’t brought it up. Then…
Say the word.
A shiver pulsed through me. Was this really happening? This precipice we now danced on made my heart thunder in my ears. I took a deep breath to try to calm it. “Do it.”
The gentle breeze that had been dancing around us swelled into a dizzying gust. For a moment, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I shut my eyes and waited.
The wind stilled. I could feel Zas’s shadow over me, blocking the sun from my back. Their breath ruffled my hair. I reached my hand slightly behind me, my fingers splayed.
They took my hand.
It was foolish how giddy it made me feel. Then again, I was touched starved for nearly all my life. Whatever this was probably wouldn’t be healthy under normal circumstances. But my life, and our relationship, was far from it.
“How does it feel?”
Strange. But… not in a bad way.
That night, I slept curled in their large arms.
Exactly eight days later, the first incident occurred. Zas and I were walking to get the mail. I didn’t notice anything, but when they told me to stop, I did.
Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you.
Again, I obeyed without question. My anxiety rocketed as I strained to hear something, anything, that could give me a clue to what was going on. Nothing. There was nothing for so long. “Zas?” I whispered.
No answer.
Panic began settling in. Did they leave me? What was happening? What if something happened to them? My chest tightened as endless questions rushed through my mind. I feared the worse. It was tempting to open my eyes, but I kept them such as Zas ordered. I had to have faith in them. I had to…
Heavy panting rumbled behind me, making me jump. For all my desire to hear anything again, I wasn’t thrilled with getting my wish now. Something thick squelched on the ground—drool? Blood? Something more unsettling? I trembled with each vicious breath I heard.
You may look now.
The breath I was holding shuddered out of me. “What happened? You sound hurt.”
It was a moment before they answered, as if they needed to muster the strength to talk. Some creatures… reavers, appeared. I have dealt with them.
“You’ve never mentioned them before.”
They’ve never been around before.
“Why now?—oh…” The moment I asked, the obvious answer popped in my head. Zas was corporeal. I cleared my throat. “So this is one of the consequences, huh?”
There might be another reason. However, that seems the likeliest case.
“And let me guess—there’s no way to stop them from coming?”
No.
“Fuckin’ great,” I muttered, then continued on with the original reason we were out here. I hated the thought of Zas needing to fight off creatures for me. It trudged up all the guilt I’ve felt about asking them to manifest. What else was going to happen now?
In the coming days and nights, more creatures were drawn to us. Zas took care of them all. Horrors plagued my dreams and I’d scream myself awake. Zas held and calmed me until I could sleep again. I started jumping at little sounds. Silence was equally unnerving. Zas did what they could to settle my nerves, but the bit of peace never lasted.
After a few months of this, I had had enough. Then I came up with a plan.
I called up my parents. It had been a bit since we last caught up. I told them all about the house and how I loved being out here. I left out Zas becoming physical, and the other creatures now drawn to us. They would only worried.
“So um—I called because I need you guys to come watch my house for a bit. Can you do that?”
“I have to request off,” mom slowly started, notably concerned. “But sure. We can do that honey.”
“Thanks. Just let me know when you can make it and I can get everything ready.”
Mom dragged the conversation out long enough that, after I hung up, I groaned and face-planted onto the couch.
If talking to your parents is so exhausting, why invite them here?
“Like I said on the phone—I need them to watch the house.”
And why is that?
“You’ll see,” I chirped. It was a surprise. One that even I wasn’t sure how would play out.
 I waited outside on the day my parents were to arrive. The late-summer sun blazed overhead, though the winds of a coming storm blew softly through the trees. Hopefully my parents would get here before it hit.
I drummed my fingers on the hood of my car. It had been years since my parents last saw me—saw Zas. How would they react now? Hopefully, they wouldn’t notice they’re physical. That was why I waited by my car, so Zas could already be inside, prepared to go.
When they arrived, Mom talked a bunch while Dad remained mostly silent. He kept glancing at Zas—could he tell? Mom, on the other hand, seemed to avoid looking at Zas and me all together. At least neither of them tried to fake that things were better than they were.
To everyone’s relief, I didn’t draw the moment out. I said my goodbyes, got in my car and drove off towards town.
But, I never made it to town.
Halfway down to the main road, I pulled over next to a field. Without a word to Zas, I got out and walked into the tall grass. Closing my eyes, I turned my face up to the sky and spun around in a couple circles. I soaked in the moment. “I’m ready,” I murmured.
For?
I opened my eyes and gazed at the pure blue sky striated by thin, wispy clouds. I couldn’t have asked for a more poetically beautiful day. I reached back until my hand found theirs, our fingers naturally entwining. “To look.”
There was a long pause. Are you sure?
“Yes.” I explained all my thoughts from over the past few months; about the letter I left my parents telling them about my decision. That was the real reason I asked them to come. Since I didn’t know what was going to happen, I left my keys there and the details for my personal accounts just in case. It had been a challenge to arrange everything without tipping Zas off to my plan. I didn’t think they would try to dissuade me, per se. But this… this wasn’t something I had wanted any input on.
“So since I’m going to look at you, can you tell me what’s going to happen?”
They chuckled. No.
I shrugged. “Worth a shot.” I took a long, steadying breath. “If this is my last moment, I just wanna say that I’ve enjoyed our time together.”
Me too, little one.
I felt their touch brush my arm. The butterflies I had settled. The things I feared all my life no longer worried me. After everything we had been through, I trusted them.
I turned around and looked at Zastrozuth.
— — —
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coffeeandcalligraphy · 6 years ago
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Lots of writing! | Writing Update #1
Hey People of Earth!
I have many a things to update. mwahaha
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The first of which is this bad boy!
FISHBOWL was a one shot-ish thing I worked on in mid August because I didn't want to write the scene I had to write, but also didn't want to write outside of my universe. Soooo, of *course* your girl wrote herself some more fanfiction because? I mean? Why not!
It’s not unheard of on this blog that I ship (and then, subsequently cannoned) my boyz Lonan and Harrison. I’d written the first chunk of this story on mobile, just in a note, because I’d gotten an idea for some dialogue. (I had the whole story written besides the beginning and end.) The struggle was figuring out how to start the story. I toyed with a couple ideas, writing a million different first sentences. Frustrated that I wasn’t feeling any of ‘em, I shelved the project for the night and went to bed.
The next day, I came back to FISHBOWL, and I looked over the random first sentences I’d jotted down. One caught my eye, and so aha, I found my sentence. (I struggle with writing openings, so once the first sentence is nailed down, I usually am able to get a good flow rather quickly). I wrote the entire thing in one sitting, and while it’s disjointed and weird, I had a lot of fun.
EXCERPTS:
The story itself is basically plot-less since it was only meant to entertain myself, but I think I wrote some cool stuff, and explored a setting (Lonan’s room) with a lot more diligence than I have before.
This excerpt’s first line inspired me to write the rest of this story (lol my only motivation). It’s not even a favourite line, it just helped me wrap my head around the language a bit/gave me the idea to have a fishbowl-lens look on the story. 
The bottle is crystal edged. Half drained. A kaleidoscope through his eye.
He passes it over with ease. Harrison can��t tell if he’s done it because he’s drunk, or because he doesn’t want questions. 
“My mom likes this shit,” Harrison says, fingering the bottle, like he’s holding a memory and not jade-tinted glass. Careful, so he won’t shatter it. It’s almost like he’s a child again.
I also lluuuurve this next paragraph, just because loppy IS SUCH A NICE WORD. loppyloppyloppy. I just like the personality of the objects in Lonan’s bedroom (because he’s got none). Like his poor depressed lonely fishbowl, poor slothy aloe, poor upset betta.
Harrison watches the fishbowl on the nightstand. He should change the water. It’s aglae’d and forgotten, almost, like the loppy potted aloe on his desk. The blue betta hardly slashes through the water. Ris reaches over and unscrews the pot of pet store bloodworms, sprinkles in a pinch of the pellets. The fish cuts around its browning bamboo stake, and vacuums two into its mouth. Its fins wiggle like ink drops.
This is the last paragraph of FISHBOWL, and I mean, I like her tho?
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The betta fish glugs through the water in a flowery whoosh. Bottom feeds the last of the bloodworms. The takeout containers are empty, and rolled onto their backs. Stained rusted orange with dried chili. The aloe plant is still curved instead of straight. Harrison makes a note to water it in the morning. The digital clock bleeds 6:22 in neon cherry light. When it bounces off Lonan’s eyes, they look purple. 
So that’s it for FISHBOWL! I had a lot of fun writing this lol. Maybe too much. I must be stopped.
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CHICKEN NOODLE is chapter 14 of REWIRED, and to be frank, it was a bit of a pain to write. I’d churned it out after writing a really intense scene previously, and couldn’t really feel into the flow of the words as easily as I’d done before. The first scene took a chunk of time to write, because I wasn’t sure where I was taking it. After finally nailing a concept, I did complete it, and I’m rather happy with how that section of the chapter turned out. 
However, lol, scene two is a mess?? In my opinion at least, I did read this chapter to @sarahkelsiwrites​ last night, and she rather enjoyed it! Because it was SUCHHH a mess, and I had no motivation to write it, I, toward the beginning of the month, adapted the scene to screen. 
Stripping back the scene really allowed me to figure out how I wanted it to end (which was exciting!). Obviously, it isn’t a very good screenplay, but it was exciting to have a different take on the scene/focus on a new form to learn instead of self deprecating!
The following excerpt is from the beginning-ish of the chapter and sets up the concept:
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Maybe this is how it feels. To be a child, or a fetus, or a cell, or a human, stuck in the womb of a mother. Sloshing in amniotic fluid. Doing little fetal summer saults. Eating what she eats. Drinking what she drinks. That last serving of apple crumble. The remnant touches of cognac stuck to her lips. A dog and a bone, a human and its lung, a plant and its gardener, a mother and her child. Can’t live without her, even when you want to. Bitter dependency. 
my favourite parts of this are ‘fetal summersaults’ and ‘human and its lung’ like ooooh. I’m like not 100 on it but I don’t mind it!
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PEACH is chapter 15 of REWIRED, and oh boy is she a CHAPTER. I drafted this one as well as 16 over three days (they’re both super short), and I’m shook??
Chapter 14 ends with Reeve saying some *very* horrible things about another character (Emily), and her relationship with our boy Harrison. Because of this, she’s finally decided to check out Emily for herself, and see if she’s really as horrible as Reeve (who’s assumed her to be a Lolita figure), has anticipated. 
Here’s an excerpt:
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Emily and I sit on her pull out. My mother would haphazardly call it tacky—blue gingham, red quilt—but I almost like it. With its coffee stains, and holes that vomit polyester. Second-hand charm. Maybe Harrison toted it off some suburb’s curb for her.
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So this is the final chapter I’ll be updating you guys on (because it’s the most recent one that I’ve written lol). 
LOLITA, LOLITA, takes place in short succession after PEACH, and deals with a familiar theme--romanticizing/glorifying a female figure (sorta similarly to Lolita, which contributed to--of course--the title). This chapter is sort of the tail end of the ‘whimsical’ adventure Reeve has had entering Emily’s world, and has a lotttt of French inspiration.
Emily, as a character, does study the French language/culture a bit, and Reeve really clings to this particular detail. I think in a lot of ways, she does this because this is a detail she previously ridiculed (in the line: The kind of girl who learns French in her spare time and smokes essential oils, from chapter 10). 
Here’s the first one (I think it’s kind of clunky honestly but I like the idea so when I revisit, hopefully with some editing I can clean it up):
We split a brownie over a glass of Pinot Noir. She says it’s a French thing, and I imagine the bottle emptying on the veranda of a politician’s off coast villa. My lipstick stains the rim of the glass in a ruby porthole. It tastes like fruity hand sanitizer to me.
I also really like the next one, particularly the end. Like with before, I think it’s kinda clunky but I ain’t all that mad:
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She’s pulled her hair into a bun. The gold ridge of a bobby pin peaks out from behind a twist. Hiding between the white of her scalp. My nails have dried, now, and she’s gifted me her peach lip gloss, which I wear gracefully on my lips like it isn’t second-hand, but a lavish salve made in Europe. Tested on the eyelids of a fetid rabbit. Warm and licked at on the mouth of a rich young woman. An off brand perfume clings to her throat. The plastic breath of amber and ylang-ylang. I’ve tried to mimic her up-do, but my hair falls, even when I pump it with hairspray. Je suis amoureuse. I should tell her. I am in love.
^^ the perfume in question in my head is like a bootleg version of Chanel No. 5, hence some of the perfume’s classic notes!
The second half of this update deals with Reeve *attempting* to talk to her brother (@Lonan @Lonan). They’ve now migrated to his room, which she notes, is vastly different to Emily’s.
The first excerpt is a line I find kind of funny because a) food b) relatable c) lol Lonan’s ideas for gifts tho d) SAME e) grapefruits ?? f) it’s kind of adorable
He’s brought me half a grapefruit and a spoon. A surrender, or a lost attempt at a gift. The flesh wet, and pink.
like tbhhh grapefruits as presents sounds litttt
The next is actually sort of stolen from FISHBOWL, ha. FISHBOWL takes place in Lonan’s room, so I *very much* stole all the description from there and shoved it into this chapter. oops lol.
His room feels smaller, somehow. I think he’s moved the bed. Or it might be the new coat of paint. The addition of small things, like houseplants, candles, miniature replicas of American landmarks. A wilted aloe plant. A fish bowl. The blue betta inking the water in bored compliance. I think to ask him if he’s made the space more claustrophobic on purpose, but don’t at the last second. Lonan’s never been one to collect clutter. 
And lastly! Not my favourite but eh:
I say, “I like what you’ve done with the place,” even though I don’t. “What kind of plant is that? This one?” I get up from my spot on the floor next to him. Touch at the pot next to the watering can. Finger the waxy leaves. Anthurium, peace lily, ficus? Probably a ficus. “I think Mom would like these. You should take a picture to show her later.”
I like the tone of this scene a lot because it’s so dissociative. Almost underwater. It’s kind of a very thin version of my usual style, but I think it works for what I was going for for sure (I hope lol). 
So that’s about it for this update! I know it was a lil different, but I hope you guys enjoyed regardless! As always, thanks for reading! :)
--Rachel
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theunsentletterstoyou · 7 years ago
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Dear Muse:
Hi S.
I feel I owe you an explanation, as best I can, of me unintentionally being a total creep on your birthday, though feelings are always tricky to put in writing and this won’t be adequate. Hopefully this will reassure you that I never meant to make you uncomfortable in the slightest – really the very last thing I ever wanted. I feel awful and I’m (still, a month on!) really sorry. I know you said not to worry about it at all and you're probably long over it yourself, but I can’t help it! This might not help. It might make things worse. I’m a terrible judge of these things, as you can probably tell. But here goes.
I don’t fancy you. While I doubt you believe that, it should hopefully go without saying. I mean – eleven and a half year age gap?! But just to be totally clear.
But I sort of approach that feeling from two directions, which collide very uncomfortably and add up to something that from anyone else's point of view probably looks romantic.
First – ever since you were three and impressed me so much with how incredibly mature you were for your age (I'm really surprised you remembered that conversation, last month, so many years on – how on earth do you so clearly remember so long ago and being so young?), I've had the hugest squish on you – to borrow a term from Tumblr. Like a crush, only platonic. A very intense feeling of friendship and desire to be your BFF, basically. I've always really liked you. (Not "like liked", but regular liked, but then again LIKED bold italic underline and larger size, you could say). Not love, but way stronger than regular friendship; I have no idea why. I always regretted that we weren't closer friends than we were. And even after we lost touch for so long I still remembered you very fondly and wanted to be friends again. I'm just rubbish at not letting life get in the way, and suddenly months became years became almost a decade. Turns out seeing you again ended up in almost instinctively releasing all that "HELLO FRIEND :D!" in a great rush before thinking how strong that's coming on from your viewpoint. Oooooops.
Second – you are beautiful. Really unexpectedly pretty.
I don’t mean sexy. I couldn’t find you sexy if I tried. I mean (1) eleven and a half year gap, so UGH, and (2) old close friends, and (3) I first knew you when you were a little baby and vaguely remember changing your nappy once, which would rather kill that thought even if it arose. There's this thing called the Westermarck effect – where someone who has grown up with someone else or known that person as a child can never find them sexy, scientifically it prevents inbreeding – which is very much in effect here. You’re not dating material in my eyes, just not attractive like that, and never will be.
But having said that, looking so to speak with the eye of an artist rather than a lover, the way one might look at a pretty flower or a sunset or a cute kitten or something (horribly objectifying, sorry, but there isn't a better way to put it), or the way I can tell certain celebrities are handsome – David Beckham, say, or Bradley Cooper – without any romantic interest, in the general sense of the word, you are extraordinarily beautiful.
Except it’s stronger than that. The same general feeling as finding a random celebrity generally good-looking or admiring a nice landscape or painting, only up to eleven. For an even better comparison: Seeing you is like walking around on a rainy day, when everything's grey and dull, and then suddenly the rain lets up a bit and the sun shines a bit, and a really bright rainbow appears. And I can’t help but stop and stare at it, with this “wow!” sense of wonder and awe, and think of how beautiful it is. And it’s not something I could ever have any sort of relationship with or even touch – and I have no desire to, even the thought of that makes no sense at all. But the striking sudden and unexpected beauty of it sticks in the mind long after the rainbow itself vanishes, and leaves me with a lasting sense of joy. I think most people I know would react to a rainbow the same way. You’re like that. I did write a song very, very long ago (when you were 3-4) calling you “Rainbow Child” – you might have heard it back in May – it’s still so true.
But there's no real sense of love attached, except insofar as I love everyone in your family (the totally non-romantic way, just a very strong friendship almost like extended family). It's definitely not attraction in the usual sense and I have absolutely no interest in anything more than friendship ever – “oh good”, I hear you say – it’s just “this girl! She's so... well she doesn't seem to be anything in particular. But wow, look!”
You just have one of those faces – this is something I've experienced with a couple of other people – that seems to stand out from far away even in a crowd, as if you were highlighted, to the point that I ask myself “there was a crowd too?” It's literally attractive, compelling like a magnet, my eyes almost can't help but be drawn to you when you're in the same place as me, and my thoughts do the same when you're not. It’s sort of like, if you’re looking at a big painting and most of it is black and white but there’s a red circle somewhere – your eyes just immediately and consistently want to go to the red circle. And you might walk away from the painting and think about that red circle again later in the day because it’s just so visually appealing to you compared to everything around it.
Another comparison I could make was brought on by something Sinead and I were chatting about before you turned up when I popped in last month: at one point she showed me your DVD collection and we got to discussing films, and she mentioned how a clip from one film got inexplicably stuck in her mind for ages afterwards, like a sort of “visual earworm” I think was her phrase. You know the thing: it's like having a favourite song that's so nice you want to listen to it over and over on a loop as long as you can, and maybe that song's a bit catchy and gets stuck in your head, and you find yourself humming it, even when you're not listening to it. And again, you couldn't date music – but you could certainly call some tunes beautiful. I get a visual version of that with your face. Like a Vine loop, maybe. Speaking of which, your actual Vine is insanely addictive!
It reminds me of something I once read in someone's autobiography:
“One of the most vivid experiences I have ever had was sitting quietly for at least an hour before a picture by the Dutch painter Vermeer, and absorbing its sheer beauty… The room was crowded with people, but I was oblivious of them, as I was equally oblivious of the passage of time. As a result of this act of concentration the vision of this particular masterpiece is indelibly stamped on my mind which has forever been enriched by it. I know that my ordinary acts of seeing and observation have been sharpened by that experience. There was drawn from me an acknowledgement of the greatness of the artist and his painting and I caught, with awe, the light of his inspiration and creativeness. It awoke in me a desire to follow in his footsteps and create something beautiful.”
In general, the way I feel about you is the feeling one gets when looking at a beautiful painting. But more specifically, like that man with that particular painting, your face is imprinted on my memory. It's sort of formed the background to most of my other thoughts since late April. Look up Shakespeare's Sonnet 113 and you get a pretty good description (admittedly in olde language) of how I feel. Normally when I see something pretty I just think “wow pretty” for a moment and move on. I’m not sure why you stick so much! I suppose it was the combination of you being quite pretty and that being completely unexpected – at another point we were looking at the family photos on your wall and Sinead showed me an old Vine clip of hers featuring a few of them which pretty much perfectly sums everything up from my point of view – you might know it, the one where she's comparing old photos to your present-day family with increasing surprise. "Then. Now. / Then - now. / Then, now! / THEN! NOW! What's happening to the world?!" She remarked, and I wasn’t going to actually say it but agreed, that your whole face has really changed. Even between then and now too and that wasn't even too long ago! And until April, I hadn’t seen you for so long, since you were seven going on eight: still don't really have any idea how I've managed to keep in touch with your whole family but keep missing hearing from you directly for over a decade. I've always been bad at keeping up with people but that was absurd. I missed you hugely, by the way. So since then I’ve felt exactly like her in that clip, only stronger (“THEN!! / NOW!!” :O :O :O).
You probably got the idea a few comparisons ago, but I just wanted to be totally clear. Getting technical for a bit (because that's how I roll...), I find you incredibly aesthetically attractive. This is a thing that's distinct from, but usually linked to and the beginning of, attraction in the conventional sexual or romantic sense – yes, those are two distinct things. If you know, just skip the rest of this paragraph! There's sexual attraction (“I'd like to get in your pants/hugs/kisses/touching up and ultimately make babies”) which is absolutely not there AT ALL. There's romantic attraction (“I'd like to date you/buy you flowers/"long walks on the beach" etc etc and ultimately marry you”) which is also definitely not there at all. And then there's what this actually is. Aesthetic attraction, in this case disconnected from any other sort. Which is “I wouldn't like any sort of relationship with you beyond simple friendship and could do fine even without that, and have zero interest in any sort of physical contact, but WHOA, your face, I want to look at it SO MUCH, no more than look, but really look and look for as long as possible and just never stop – in an ideal world I'd like to spend time around you just watching you, from a nice respectful distance, and just... drink you in, because you're so incredibly good-looking”.
On top of this (possibly a sort of by-product, but I don't know), as I once told your sister, and you might already know and have seen some of it – every time I've ever seen you, going back years, I've come out shortly afterwards (within a week or two) with some sort of art. Sometimes music, sometimes poems (you've seen a few), sometimes a short story or two, pictures once (not of you – I can't draw people!) And it's quite good art, or so most people who've seen it reckon. Which is remarkable because otherwise I'm not artistic in the slightest. I'd be happy to show you any of it, just ask. You just... really inspire me creatively, for some reason, and that bit has actually been around practically since you were born. If I had to sum you up in a word it would be muse.
I think my point is made. I brought you a present out of simple appreciation and wanting to just… thank you for just being you, super pretty and inspiring you – no actual desire for any relationship of any sort attached. I’m leaving everything right here. It was hard to tone things right. I was going to send you a birthday card, at least, anyway. I’d do the same for Sinead just out of general friendship. I didn't sign it with my name out of the worry you'd react just the way you did. Wasn't expecting for you to answer the door right as I stuck it through your letter box though – so much for anonymity.
I know what you're thinking: if he doesn’t fancy me, then why the "someone special" and why sign the card "admirer"? Simply because anything more (in both cases) was too strong, but anything less not enough. It was hard to find a word for how I feel – for a particularly close-feeling and beautiful friend but it never quite crossing into love –and I picked and phrased the card very, very carefully. Probably not carefully enough, but I tried. (Thank goodness “someone special” is a card category, it does the job quite well.) Even “admirer” is a bit strong, but having linguistic-geek leanings, I settled on admirer for etymological (language origin) reasons: it comes from Latin ad-mirare – literally, to look at, with affection and respect. For some reason it all seemed like a good idea at the time!
That was going to be the last deliberate direct contact I ever had with you after you said you weren't comfortable with it. But I just wanted to clear things up as well as possible, so that hopefully you aren’t uncomfortable any more. I know this is the third(?) time I’ve said “you won’t hear from me again” (random encounters aside), but this time I mean it, unless you care to reply.
I hope you know now I meant well, and would never not mean well. And I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable even now. That's the very last thing I'd ever want; the thought of you creeped out feels like physical harm to me.
I hope you enjoyed the Isle of Wight! Always a pleasure to host you :) 
With friendship
T
“Memories” – or “Thoughts on a Visual Earworm” early June 2016 
I cannot forget you! Although I last saw you in April, And now it is June, in my mind I can still see your face. Both waking and sleeping, your memory fills every moment, And summer's long days seem pale shadows of Summer's sweet grace. In all idle moments, my mind jumps to thoughts and to visions Of memories of you, both old and more recent to see, And trees, houses, people – my eye ‘shapes them all to your feature’, As Shakespeare once wrote! Tell me, when will I ever be free? Will it take till the summer fades out into red-golden autumn For Summer to fade from my memory into the past? Or will even in winter each day seem as bright as the summer And might memory-glimpses of you to the New Year last?
And why am I thinking of you? I’d not seen you in ages, Since you were a child, barely thought of you most of that time, Then I saw you again for the briefest few hours – but for weeks since You’ve written yourself into poem after verse after rhyme! You’re almost a stranger to me, and so very much younger, And we barely spoke – so why should I be thinking of you, When many more people have been in my life for much longer, And meant so much more to me: family, friends, lovers true? Why over them all does your likeness seem laid every moment? Why do you inspire every word, line and note of my art? Why though we might not meet in person again for ten more years, Do I find you in each passing moment engraved on my heart?
I wish I could tell what I’m feeling for you, but can’t place it – Romantic it’s not, for the thought makes me sick to my core, Yet a joy and a wonder at thinking of you overwhelms me And a lively creativeness turning to art more and more. It links to a realisation that you are attractive: In strictest of senses – my mind turning always to you, But not in a way that says ‘her I would like for a lover’ (Thank goodness, you cry) – more ‘I’d like to spend time watching you, Then drawing and painting and singing and writing about you’: Like poetry given girl’s form, or a portrait made living, Or a song in a body, that’s how you seem to me, sweet Summer; ‘Aesthetic attraction’, that could be the term for the feeling.
You stand out in a crowd, as if highlighted under a spotlight, As if life were an image in sepia, black, white and grey, But a single bright colourful part of it grabs the attention, And remains in the memory long after looking away. Or as if, on a dull rainy day, there shines out a bright rainbow, An iris of colour so vivid that cuts through the rain And illumines the world with a halo of red, orange, yellow, Green, indigo, violet bright – and then fades out again, Yet while it is there one can’t help but to stare at its beauty, It fills all the heart with a wonder, a joy and an awe, And its image enlivens the mind with its bright shining colours, So that all of the rest of the day the world seems dull no more. 
I don’t love you: you can’t love a painting, you can’t love a rainbow, Or a flower, or a sunset, but ‘beautiful’, yes, you could say, And could want to stop, stare at them, dazzled with wondrous amazement, And drink in the transcendent beauty of such things all day. And that's what you’re like, Summer, ‘Rainbow Child’ (so I once called you In a song that I took from a novel): if I had the choice And if rainbows and sunsets and beautiful you didn't vanish, I’d spend hours just watching your face, listening to your sweet voice. When we’re in the same room, your face draws my eye like a strong magnet, When we’re not, I still find that my thoughts to you keep on returning, Like a visual kind of an earworm, stuck in my memory On a loop, red-brown hair and bright eyes in my mind always burning. 
Whenever I see you, I find myself turning creative, And trying to capture your beauty in colour and line, But I cannot paint, cannot draw, so it turns into music And poems and prose, to describe your sweet face so divine. (Or rather to try to describe it – my words cannot capture How you move, how you talk, how you laugh, how you smile, how you look: Ten poems would not be enough, and I'm getting the feeling One couldn't sum you up in words even in a whole book!) A ‘muse’ I would call you – a girl who inspires an artist: Indeed I’m no artist except after I have seen you, But then how it flows out, the music and poems and colours, Attempting to echo the memory of beauty so true! 
I felt it when you were young too – but now stronger than ever, And far longer-lasting – a month it’s been, yet still you're here In my mind, in my eye, and on all things imprinting your likeness, A sight that with each passing moment seems ever more dear; So lovely, like art made incarnate, infusing my memory With big brown eyes, dark waves of hair, and a face from a dream, Well named, as reflecting the beauty of beautiful summer – The sun, sky, leaves, flowers in bloom; like that season you seem, Full of light, full of laughter and joy, so vivacious and vibrant, Even when summer passes, still Summer will live in you yet: Though autumn and winter tear leaves from trees, bring cold and darkness, Remembering you will bring sunshine: and I can’t forget.
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helenpowers · 7 years ago
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25 Questions Tag
Tagged by @hklunethewriter Thank you!
1. Is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason? God, there are a lot.
I have a pirate story that is based around the story of King Midas that I’ve been putting off, mainly because I have other projects that I’m more interested in writing.
Then there is my fantasy Rapunzel retelling that still needs to be edited/revised, which of course is putting it on the back burner. I have to completely rework the magic system and work on my world building, which I’m a little too scared to dive into. 
I have a Lesbian Figure Skater story with elements of sleeping beauty that I started outlining last year, but I got super inspired to write Tattoos and Tiramisu so it got put on the back burner as well...
Not to mention the ideas that are still just... barely even ideas.
2. What work of yours, if any, are you embarrassed about existing? All of the fanfic I’ve ever written. Not because of the fact that it’s fanfic, but because it was from when I thought I was actually a really good writer, but in reality I was very mediocre at best.
3. What order do you write in? Front of book to back? Chronological? Favorite scenes first? Something else? I write in chronological order, front to back. I find that if I try to write out of order, I can’t keep the feelings straight in my head, and I have a harder time linking the events together.
4. Favorite character you’ve written? I have two that come immediately to mind. From Scarlett, I absolutely adore Derek. He’s such a sweetie and deserves better than what he gets. In Tattoos and Tiramisu, I love James like no other. My precious baby.
5. Character you were most surprised to end up writing? Scarlett, probably. I had never intended to write that novel, but something happened and it just flowed. Scarlett herself surprised me as well.
6. Something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now I just really need to work on my world building. It’s definitely my weakness as an author.
7. When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write? I love to tell people that I write, however when they ask me to explain my stories... that is when I clam up a bit. I’m always nervous that they are going to judge me based on my ideas.
8. Favorite genre to write Contemporary, usually. I love writing characters and their personal stories. Plus, seeing as world building is not my strength, contemporary allows me to not worry about it too much. 
9. What, if anything, do you do for inspiration? Inspiration comes to me a lot through music and other forms of media. I just do the things I love to do and inspiration comes to me through that. 
10. Write in silence or with background music? Alone or with others? Always with music. I have playlists for every project I work on, and I’ll listen to that playlist specifically while I am working on that project.
11. What aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing? I have gotten significantly better at dialogue since I started writing. I still have trouble with it in the first draft, but usually I know how to make it better now, which is something I definitely didn’t understand back then.
12. Your weaknesses as an author? Worldbuilding. Like I’ve mentioned before. Being descriptive with my characters and settings, as well. I tend to write as if my characters are blank and they are standing in a blank space. That’s why my first drafts are always so bare.
13. Your strengths as an author? I think I’m pretty strong when it comes to character interactions. I’m also fairly good at making characters that people enjoy reading about, thank god.
14. Do you make playlists for your work? ALWAYS. Like I said, every project has it’s own playlist. I keep them on spotify and just listen to them on repeat while I’m writing. 
15. Why did you start writing? Honestly, I don’t know. I started writing stories when I was like... five or six years old. I loved reading and I think I just wanted to make more stories for myself and others to enjoy. 
16. Are there any characters who haunt you? Of my own? None that come immediately to mind. 
17. If you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be? Don’t stress about your first draft. That’s what revisions are for. And yes, by the way, you do have to revise AND edit.
18. Were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? What were they? I will always be amazed my The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. It’s one of my favorite books of all time. Also anything by Rainbow Rowell. I aspire to write characters as well as she does.
19. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.? I use scrivener most of the time, and I keep separate docs for each of those things, then have the main manuscript that I work through while it’s broken into chapters and scenes.
20. Do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts? In NaNoWriMo, then it’s usually longer sit downs. However, through the rest of the year it’s more like little spurts. An hour here or there, whenever I can fit it in.
21. What do you think when you read over your older work? I usually have a really hard time reading it because all I can think about is how it can be improved, but usually they aren’t projects that I want to work on anymore, so just thinking about how to fix them isn’t doing me any good.
22. Are there subjects that make you uncomfortable to write? Nah. I was raised in a family that wasn’t scared to talk about anything, and that kind of wore off on me. 
23. Any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing? Nothing that comes to mind.
24. Have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?  In the first draft of Scarlett, she used guitar string to behead her victims, so I became very well versed in murder cases that used similar methods.
25. Copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of. I posted one of my favorite segments of Tattoos and Tiramisu recently, so I’m trying to go through some of it to find another section that I’m particularly proud of... 
This will do, I guess.
“No, not really. I knew it was you a bit further back, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked lonely. Sad.”
         “Well, now you can see that I am neither of those things, so you can go.”
         “I don’t know. You still look pretty lonely to me.” He looks around, like he’s half expecting there to be someone else just out of his line of sight, but there is no one.
         I look behind him and I can see his crew watching us. They seem confused, unsure as to why their leader would be conversing with me of all people. Some of them shrug and continue back into the school, not willing to stay in the cold weather for longer than it takes for them to ruin their lungs. Others, however, continue to watch with frowns.
         With a huff James takes off his jacket and puts it on the ground, sitting cross legged on top of it. He keeps his back to the path, like he knows that the others are still there, watching.
         “You know, you don’t need to sit with me out in the cold.”
         “I know.”
         “Your friends look like they’re waiting for you.”
         “I can catch up with them later.”
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hrrytomlinson · 7 years ago
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ANNUAL WRITING SELF-EVALUATION
*All answers should be about works published in 2017.
The wonderful @haloeverlasting tagged me <3
1. List of works published this year: (aka all my fics minus my first) 
When You Look Like That Pour Your Heart Out How Far We’ve Come The World Still Turns Damn the Dark, Damn the Light
2. Work you are most proud of (and why):
I don’t think it comes to a surprise, but The World Still Turns is hands down my favorite. I think it is the best thing I have ever written and will ever write. I’m so so so beyond proud of it. I’m passionate about the concept, the language I used, the description, the feelings, the IMPACT it has. It’s so profound to me in so many ways
3. Work you are least proud of (and why):
A lot of answers I’ve been reading to this question in particular have been vague or partial or half assed. I’m straight up gonna say I’m least proud of How Far We’ve Come and Damn the Dark, Damn the Light. It is what it is. These fics were written for exchanges, under pressure, under prompt. I love them no less than my other fics, but I am able to recognize that they’re not something I love with my whole entire being. I’m happy I wrote the stories I wrote, but authors are their own worst critic and I know they aren’t my best. 
4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:
Harry remembers sitting on the tiny roof off the side of his bedroom after he and Louis climbed out the window around midnight one random summer night. They sat in silence and looked at the stars, pointing out the constellations they knew by heart.
“How many nights do you think it would take to count the stars, Lou?” Harry had asked, voice quiet and shaky.
Louis had hummed, actually thinking about his answer. “Infinity,” he said, voice just as soft, eyes still glued to the heavens above as Harry stared at his best friend’s profile.
[The World Still Turns] or basically anything from this fic is a fave of mine. The dinner table scene in particular !!!!!!!! but spoilers
5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:
LMAO fucking Nicole @ireallysawanangel wrote a GIANT paragraph of a comment on The World Still Turns (this whole evaluation is really only gonna be about TWST probably rip) and reading it was an experience like nothing before. Honestly I love that TWST touched people (not just nicole!) enough to leave long comments. Feedback in any form means the world to me. I don’t care about kudos (I never look at that number) but I really care about comments, it means a lot to me! x
6. A time when writing was really, really hard:
Damn the Dark, Damn the Light was really hard because I was struggling with school at that time, the plot was hard to nail down, and I felt uninspired through and through, so much I had to force myself to write it just to fulfill a deadline. Writing isn’t always hard for me (PYHO and TWST were so easy) but I just struggled so much that time.
7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:
UM the actual lap dance scene from Pour Your Heart Out where Louis dances to Land of Lola from Kinky Boots for Harry. I JUST came back from seeing Kinky Boots on Broadway and was obsessed and just needed to fulfill that desire ASAP. Also Harry’s character in The World Still Turns because he feels very similar to myself.
8. How did you grow as a writer this year:
Oh fuck. Don’t go read my first two fics. They’re probably trash compared to my golden child (The World Still Turns). I grew so, so, so much between Pour Your Heart Out and The World Still Turns. My writing got so much better and I feel more confident. But also that is with a GIANT thanks for my most perfect beta @haloeverlasting. I don’t think my writing would be as spectacular as it is if it wasn’t for her magic touch. I swear, Brit makes me so so much better. TWST would not be what it is if it wasn’t for her.
9. How do you hope to grow next year:
I just want to write my dream fic. I want to perfect it. I want to write the idea in my head the way it is. I want it to be better than I dreamed it to be. If you know me well, you know the EXACT fic I’m talking about. I’m so scared to write it because I’m afraid I’ll fuck up the perfect picture I have in my head. But I have my A+ cheerleader Delaney @emperorstyles to remind me that no one knows my idea better than myself and that it will turn out great in the end. 
10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):
Oh jesus. Number one has to be my two BEST FRIENDS Lex @avocadolouie and Jackson @wubwubnparmaham. I love these two crazies with my entire heart. Their writing has influenced my writing, their friendship and support has influenced my writing. They continue to inspire me no matter what and they’re always there for me. They were my first true fandom friends and honestly I could cry thinking about how much I love them. 
Next is @haloeverlasting the best beta to ever walk the planet. Thank you for responding to my SOS text post I made during the summer about needing a beta. I was so scared to share my work with you but you’ve only made me shine since then :’) 
And my first writing group chat I’ve ever been a part of. You guys are honestly the best pals a gal could EVER ask for.. especially Delaney @emperorstyles, I feel such a closeness to you and honestly you’re one of the bestest friends I’ve ever made, idk what it is about you but i ALWAYS want to talk to you. And Marie @mediawhorefics who I legit fangirled over before i was magically put into a gc with her, her fics are written for my soul and her friendship and love and support honestly shocks me every day because she is a queen in my mind (i REALLY love her fics you guys.. like it’s a big deal) and, again, i feel such a closeness to her and i can’t believe she became one of my best friends this year. 
11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:
LOL YES I'm the biggest self-indulgent writer. I wrote Hamilton, Kinky Boots, my favorite French songs, my own job experience, and other shit, including a sexuality crisis, into Pour Your Heart Out. I wrote my own biased Star Trek captain preferences into The World Still Turns. The list goes on and on. 
12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:
Write what you want to write! Who cares if you don’t think anyone will like it. If you like it, that’s good enough to open a doc and start! 
13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:
That fic. You know the one, with makeup and heels and corsets. You know. Also on the to do list is a fic for the Flicker album challenge thing. Idk what my brain will do with that but I’m putting it off like usual. LMAO. ALSO OH I ALMOST FORGOT! The girl crush au. That keeps getting pushed back. But that will be written and published because honestly it’s the best thing ever and I have so much I want to write for it.
14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read.
Only three writers? No thanks. I’ll tag some of my ultimate faves! Sorry if you’ve done this xx @emperorstyles @avocadolouie @mediawhorefics @tommostummie @twoghostsacoustic @aceniall
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a-cai-jpg · 5 years ago
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let’s go on a rly badly made rollercoaster (hopefully you’ll make it back home)
So throughout the day, as I took breaks between my angry typing in response to some videos I had to watch for work, I thought about what I wanted to write about today. 
I wanted to write about something I wanted to write about if that makes sense. For so much of the past few years, I've written things that other people wanted me to write about, in a mannerism other people preferred. Something vaguely academic and smart-sounding, with a clear beginning, middle, and end. Here is my thesis, here is how I'm going to prove that I'm right and you're wrong, and here is me making a half-hearted effort to consider your obviously incorrect opinion before reasserting the fact that I am right.
(i kid, i believe that intelligence is the ability to consider multiple realities. i grapple too often with the notion of absolute truth, breathless and terrified of falling into a great, black mindhole. of course i don't actually believe i am Right.)
But honestly, I like writing that meanders, that starts somewhere, and then goes somewhere far, and then ends up right next to where it first began. Why measure displacement when you can measure distance?
(I say all of this, but the most common criticism I have of anyone's writing is "your purpose is unclear and you barely made an effort to achieve it. highly recommend re-thinking your thesis.")
And I had things I wanted to talk about. Like, what watching television means for me and why it's so difficult to commit to a show. Or, what about why I hate it when people ask me, "How are you?" as a conversation-starter after months of not-talking. Or, maybe the very firm stance I hold that Les Miserables is a far superior musical to the Phantom of the Opera (again, I respect your opinion and probably think you're wrong if you think otherwise but hey, what is absolute truth amirite?).
And all of those things will perhaps one day make its way onto this webpage, a data cache amidst billions, trillions, I don't actually know how the Internet works, and I find it so fascinating that I am writing these words into existence and releasing it into the universe and one day it will make its way into someone's mind lifetimes later and--
I do this thing a lot, where I feel something very strongly, for no apparent reason. And then, I pull out the notes app on my phone, and I write.
And I've written about this notes-app-writing-thing that I do...on the notes app. And a lot of it is quite nice, and a lot of it will never be read by anyone else but future me. And I expect, a lot of it will make its way onto this very same webpage because everything I'm writing is everything I've written before.
I used to have this idea, definitely inspired by a movie but I can't quite remember the title, about how your dreams are always constructed of people, things, and places you've seen before. Then a friend was like, "Ok, then how does anyone get a new idea?" And then I was like, "Yo, fight the movie, don't fight me." (No, actually, I was like, "But reality and dreams are different" and then the conversation just spiraled.)
But this idea that everything in your dream is everything you've seen before makes me wonder if everything that will be created has already been created. After all, how does time work for a supreme being or Supreme Being (capital S, hello)? Like, is the universe's space and time laid out flat like a globe if you cut the seams or like--
(I think I'm going off track.)
(What I meant to say is--)
So, instead of writing about things that I have half-formed thoughts about, I'm going to write about something that I have definitely talked about but never written and/or thought about writing about okay here we go--
We used to talk about which one we liked more: the sunrise or the sunset. We had all ubiquitously said something like, "I know most people pick ____, but I think I like the ____ more."
And see, time has passed in a way that's rubbed sand over the words you said, and I can't quite remember which one was which. 
We talked about many things, mountains and gallons of words spent between us, spiraling from our lips like they were on the urgent journey to create something greater. Someone might have thought that these words would make their way into a future for us, a novel written so that we only have to live through the pages, but did you know that the words you speak write only your past?
And I think I lied when I said this is something I talked about but have never written about, because I choke on the words when I try to describe you and my head becomes fuzzy and I can't quite remember, but when I write about you, you become clear, melting into letters that flow from my chest to my fingers.
Look, this is the unfortunate truth. You have become simultaneously more and less than you. In my reality, you are who you have been in the past, when I still knew you, and that "you" has been embedded in my writing. You have become a theme, a string of motifs, a character sometimes, or even entire stories. 
And in your reality, you are becoming someone that I will never get to know.
(I am not talking about a person, I am talking about a collection of abstract ideals.)
Recently, I watched a Korean drama about characters in a comic book. It got me thinking about what happens to the stories we write, the stories we brew in our minds. When I was in middle school, I used to write stories in my head all the freaking time. I remember I couldn't finish the story, I was terrified of finishing the story, because what happens to the characters after the story ends?
(I came to terms with my existential crisis at the ripe young age of 7 years old, so why were the aftereffects catching up to me in fucking 7th grade?)
Cue character development--I'm still dealing with the fear of not living with my head in the clouds, but hey, at least I know how to end stories now.
(Not in the technical sense, in the literal sense. I once ended a story by adding another paragraph, and then another epilogue, and then another paragraph, until I finally closed the Word document and submitted it. Thus, effectively ending it.)
But I still wonder, what does happen to a story once you let it go? I've created countless worlds, drafted enough conversations to make my mouth go dry, seen the lives and deaths of enough people to be some sort of supreme being (lowercase s) in my own sense, but where does it all go?
I really try not to, but sometimes I entertain the idea that somehow, it goes on without me. A half-formed world with a crumbling sky and a cliff that falls into absolute oblivion, but there, underneath the sprawling tree, the heroine is.
She is.
And maybe then, we are.
We are, in the future that we had planned but isn't quite the one we're currently living. We are sitting at that lake I told you about, drinking cider and eating onigiri and watching the sunset. We are driving up the mountain, but really, you are the one driving because you were the one who got your driver's license first, and the rest of us are sprawled in the backseat screaming at your headrest as you nearly kill us by scraping our rental car against a railing. We are planning your wedding, looking your partner up and down, ignoring you when you say, "No really, they're my soulmate, I love them, god, Annette, can you believe it? Soulmates are real" and we are--
Man, we are all those things, but we never thought further beyond that, huh?
So maybe, we are ends.
And so maybe, all those stories ended too, when I closed the chapter in my head and put the metaphorical pen down and took a deep breath and lived my life, this real one where things hurt and things make me cry and laugh and love. But then, hey, maybe, we really did write the future. Because we are and will continue to be everything we had planned, 11 years old and sitting at my Windows XP. Until we are not. 
But even if we are not, you still are. And I still am.
Daily song rec:
Saturn by Sleeping at Last
This song fucking gets me man. Sometimes I feel something deeply sad well inside me when I hear the lyrics. But also, is this not the most beautiful melody ever written?
(The Korean drama is “Extraordinarily You.”)
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