#don't mind the eraser marks I had a different idea before changing

[joshplayssboi]

Fun little Oswald drawing I did last night

Hope y'all have an amazing day

[13eyond13]

hi, not too long ago, i read death note one-shot 2020. i really enjoyed it, but i have a question. What would have happened if Minoru never died. Do you think Minoru and Near will have met each other. I hope you have a headcanons about them.

Hi! Thanks for the ask, it was fun to think about the 2020 one-shot again. I hadn't revisited it since it first came out, so I reread it again just now to have it fresh in my mind.

So I don't really think Minoru and Near likely would've met even if Minoru never died, because Minoru asked Ryuk to erase his memories and also made it really hard to trace everything back to him with how he planned the selling of the notebook. He didn't WANT to be tracked down by anybody, nor to remember what he had done, and Near said himself that it would be basically impossible for them to find him now after the transaction had taken place. The only clue L's team really had to go on after the auction finished was that A-Kira was probably one of the many hundreds of thousands of people under 60 years old who had a bank account with Yotsuba.

HOWEVER! I also do like the idea of Minoru and Near meeting each other, especially because Near expressed interest in meeting him due to his obvious intelligence and due to coming up with that kind of a plan with the notebook. And think it might have been fun to see how they got along.

("read more" cut because it's a bit long)

I also liked Minoru as a character quite a bit. He came off pretty chill and patient and peaceful and non-egotistical, but still pretty scheming and clever as a character as well. I also liked how he found a way to try to use it to benefit himself and his own country (I guess - it's up for interpretation, but that much money going to Japan would be "greasing the wheels" of the economy, as they said?). And to me he also seemed to be trying to entertain and placate Ryuk while also getting the notebook away from him and not actually using it himself to kill anybody. After all, Minoru really had no choice in the matter initially when Ryuk selected him for his next notebook owner, so he didn't ask to be put in that position, and he had all the history of what had happened before when Kira had the notebook to draw on. And Near points out that now that the world knows about Kira's power and its whereabouts that it will be a lot harder for it to be used sneakily by anybody, and perhaps that was something that Minoru had been anticipating too (I assume he had thought of many things like this before he chose this plan, seeing as he for some reason spends 2 entire years coming up with it).

Near in this one-shot is a bit of a question mark to me characterization-wise. He doesn't act a ton like Near did in the manga in my eyes, and comes off a bit more cynical and listless and self-centered than I thought he actually was back in the manga. He seems a bit less idealistic and less caring about the others around him to me in this one-shot, too; and I thought that the part where he says that he wants to meet A-Kira because he's smart sounds a lot more like something the original L would say than something Near would say. Much of the stuff that made his personality refreshing and unique to me in comparison to L just wasn't really that present in this one-shot for me. And I'm just not sure if that's because Ohba is intentionally writing him to have been changed by the Kira case and differently characterized now to how he wrote him in the manga, or what? Perhaps he is trying to show Near slowly becoming more like L over the years as he spends more time doing L's job? Or maybe I just interpreted Near's personality in the manga differently to how Ohba was actually conceptualizing him and writing him in the first place.

Anyway, whenever I imagine Near and Minoru meeting and interacting I tend to picture Minoru having a bit of a calming effect on Near for some reason, as Near comes off a bit depressed and cranky and lonely to me in the later one-shots. They're so far apart in age in canon and when Near first learns about A-Kira that I don't ship it, but I can imagine them getting along well as friends if they met (and if someone came up with an AU where they are closer together in age and/or both first met as adults that'd be fine for me shipping-wise as well). Maybe Near would do well to have a friend like Minoru who came off smart and relatable to him in an interesting way, and who also immediately understood that something like having the power of Kira handed to him wasn't automatic good news and didn't want to use it to kill anybody. Minoru could maybe be Near’s chill voice of reason when he gets a little too cynical and stubborn about things and get him out of the house a bit more, introduce him to some of the things the kids are into these days and see what he thinks about them. I feel like Near would maybe do well to not be so caught up in his role as L anymore as well, as it doesn't really seem to be agreeing with him that much later in life. I can picture them doing something fun and low stakes and nerdy together like hanging out at a board game cafe. Or maybe it'd even be nice to see them working together on L stuff, and maybe Near would be a happier person with an actual pal to hang out with.

[snow-143]

Water Coloured Tears | Jeon Jungkook

six- late night inspo (1.7k words)

'You're late.' I say without looking up at him.

'And you're as blunt as usual I can see.'

Finally, looking up at him, I squint my eyes before replying, 'Don't change the topic. Why are you late?'

'I had something to take care of.'

'Look, if you aren't going to take this project seriously just say that from the get go. At least that way I can prepare to pick up your slack, so I don't fail.' My voice is a little more accusatory than it could be.

'I'm only 15 minutes late. Chill.' He's finally sat down, across from me, levelling us out.

Managing to soften my voice, I return to my previous point, 'You are going to take this seriously, right?' 

'Yes, y/n, I'm taking this seriously. I really just had to deal with something.'

'Okay. Then lets get to work. I was thinking we could both brainstorm on our individual pieces today. I have a couple of ideas, and I'm sure you do to.' I can't help but smile thinking about the art we could make together. We used to always come up with the craziest ideas together, they may not have always come out as we imagined, but we always had fun.

'That sounds good. What do you have in mind?' He's smiling now too.

'Get your sketchbook out, and I'll tell you. That is if you remembered to bring it.' It was meant to come off as harsh, but it came out far to soft, as if I was joking with him like old times.

'Shit...'

'Jungkook, I swear to god if you tell me you've forgotten it again I will shove this eraser down your throat.'

It's silent for a minute before be bursts out laughing, retreating his beaten up book from his bag. 'Not funny.' And with that I fling the rubber off his head, hitting a perfect bullseye.

This does nothing to sober up his laughing, if anything it made it worse. He's now hunched over the bench making a massive scene out of it all. 'God. You're scary when you're angry, you know that?'

'I've been told once or twice.' I let out a little laugh at this.

When he finally straightens up it's my turn to laugh at the others expense. A massive red mark has formed right in the centre of his forehead. 'Damn I have an extraordinary shot, maybe I should've gone with sport. My talent is obviously being wasted here.'

'Very funny.' He rubs the red splotch on his head cursing, 'How bad is it?'

'What? Worried it'll put off the flock of women always surrounding you?'

'Oh, trust me, It'd take a lot more than this to deter them.' He's smirking now, and It's putting an end to my fit of laughter.

'Right, sorry. Forgot you were like some sort of Greek god here.' I scoff.

'You jealous? Because you sound jealous.' He's still smirking, god do I wish I could slap that smirk off of his face.

'Jungkook, I've seen you playing Barbies with your little sister. Trust me, I do not see in you whatever every other girl on this campus sees in you.'

As soon as I'm finished talking it's like his whole demeanour has changed. He's not smirking any more, so I guess I got my wish.

'So about the individual pieces, how exactly do you think we should go about it?' Is all he replies.

Ignoring the lump in my throat I open my sketchbook and show him what I've planned so far. They aren't very detailed, but they show the overall message I'm trying to put forward.

By the end of my little presentation he's smiling again, and I can't help but feeling a little shy. We've spent hours showing each other our art but after all this time I feel like I'm laying my soul out to him.

Art has always been the way I express myself, and I'm always worried that maybe I'm showing too much.

I've only done sketches for 3 pieces. Technically 4. One that I'm planning on making out of stained-glass, it'll be made up of multiple different parts that hang from the ceiling to make an overall image. The second one is a drawing of a man, that may or may not resemble Jungkook, comforting a little girl, who may or may not resemble me as a child- representing someone healing your inner child. Of course, I'll have to find a way to incorporate the photographs, but I'm sure I'll be able to make up some pretentious explanation.

And lastly there's a sketch of 2 sculptures, both resembling me and Jeon. I must say I enjoyed drawing him far too much, and I'm sure I'll enjoy sculpting his face even more. They count as 2 pieces as we will make them separately, but they also fit together. I've drawn them, so they have cloth covering their eyes that can be removed. I'm also planning on having LED lights in their eyes, so we can change the prospective of them. We can arrange them in many different ways; with them facing away with the fabric covering their eyes, them facing each other with different colour settings on the lights to represent emotions, etc.

I've explained all of this while showing him the drawings. Him adding a little hum here and there, never interrupting me.

The sculpture is the only one of his that I've planned as I wanted it to be a joint project and for the rest I don't want to control his creativity.

'I know I've planned ahead a lot, and we still need to incorporate the pictures, but I'm sure we can think of a way to incorporate them. And for the others we can centre it more around the pictures. It's okay if you don't like the sculpture idea it's your project too, but I just thought-'

'This is amazing, y/n.' He cuts off my rambling. Closing the book I look away from his gaze.

'It's just a rough idea. You can put in any input you like.'

'Actually, I have a couple ideas myself.' Looking over at him, hinting at him to elaborate, I notice he's still smiling. It's gentle, admiring almost.

After a moment he breaks from my gaze, focusing on his sketchbook instead. 'There not as detailed as yours but... I just had a burst of inspiration last night and this morning.'

He's rubbing the back of his neck now, a nervous habit of his. I'm the one smiling now, he always did get inspired at random times. He'd go months without even picking up a pencil sometimes and then seemingly at random times he'd get 'inspiration' and then you'd never see him without his face buried in a sketchbook.

'Is that why you were late?' Glancing at me, he gives me a shy smile.

'Sort of.' He says before opening his book.

While he's flicking through his drawing, trying to find the most recent drawings in the unorganized mess I decide to try and get a look at his other drawings. It may be an intrusion, but I'm curious on how his style has changed over time.

'What was that?' I ask after he rushes to turn the page.

'Nothing. It was nothing.' That was definitely not nothing. There is a high chance I have lost my mind because I can't believe what I just saw.

It was a drawing of me. A drawing of a picture I posted on my Instagram over a month ago at least. Except the background was different.

In the actual photo I'm laying on my bed, but in his drawing I'm in a field of flowers. One that looks suspiciously like one next to his childhood home.

And surely that can't be right. It makes a lot more sense that I've finally lost it.

Deciding that I did infant hallucinate it, I focus on the drawing he's stopped on instead.

It's a beautiful drawing. If he hadn't told me that he only started on it last night I'd easily believe that he spent hours on it.

It's a drawing of a girl. Me. This I can accept as the whole project has to revolve around the other person. Except it's not just a regular drawing of me. I'm sat in a dark room with my legs crossed and my arms up in the air, looking more carefree than I truly have felt in months. My smile is bright, blinding.

But the thing that catches my focus the most are the angel wings I've got. They almost look like they're shining in contrast to the dark background. There's a bright light coming off of me lighting up the surrounding space.

'I um, I already have a photo to represent this one.' Looking up at him, we lock eyes.

I don't even know what to say. It's beautiful. I look beautiful. He truly is an amazing artist if he could show someone he clearly has some sort of disdain for in such a positive light.

Before I can even compose myself to ask any questions he's clearing his throat and looking away. Getting one last look at the drawing, I watch as he turns the page.

The next sketch is one where we are hugging. I'm basically a rainbow incarnate, full of colour. Whereas he looks like the storm clouds that hide the prism of colour away from sight. There's a bright light in both of our chests. But where we're connected in the embrace my colour is leaking into him. At first, I think it's a beautiful concept until I realise that where he's gaining colour I'm losing it. He's draining me of it. Leaving those parts of me a dark void whereas he's being filled with my light.

'I also have a picture for this one.' This time I don't look up at him. I don't think I can.

'These are insanely good Jungkook.' Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ask what we should do this Wednesday.

prev | m.list | next

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a/n: first saturday i haven’t been at work in like a year so i figured i’d write last night instead of sleeping :)

[yuvon-writes-letters]

Hey Yuvon, Jake.

I am sorry if this letter becomes shorter than the last one, I am on my way to work for..yeah probably the last time for now. At least till it is safe to go.

I am a bit nervous, but I can go through it. Everything is done, my clothes, tickets, motel (for the moment, I have the feeling that staying in one place wouldn't be good. Dangerous.). Only the afternoon has to come...And that means I have to somehow get home without anxiety when I see a guy in mask near the street I live in. But that's fine. I have Jake and Max this time. It won't repeat itself.

As for the deciphering, I would say I'd love to try and help...But if you can't do it then I don't exactly know if I could either.

Yes, I imagine Yuvons behaviour could be because of Jessicas last letter. I really can empathise her actions if it is because of that. I'd love to do that, too, but then everyone who gets a look at my flat thinks I'd be kidnapped. Yah, no thanks.

You're right, I didn't think of that yet.

[A mini paper is taped above that, as if the sentence was just added later] (It seems Jake already did! But didn't get the chance to test it yet.)

No problem about the word association :) Even though I needed to stop, I got a bit dizzy again. Maybe I really need to live a bit healthier in the moment. Cannot say I ate and slept enough in the TSB timeline.

Yeah, I know you understand Yu. If it gets to bad, tell me, yeah? Then we can write a bit 'alone'. Like...Detective Inc. talk, okay? [A small girl giving a hug to another girl is scribbled, but far less detailed and sketchier than normal]

You never mentioned those two words? Are you completely sure, Yuvon?

(Jakes, if anyone except for my counterparts would kindly stop reading here as long as I write in purple)

Yuvon, are you really okay? What do you mean with 'You have no plan'. I am worried about you.

Dang, I don't have much more time. But Jake wanted to adress you again real quick :)

Lis🐾🔥

[Again the screenshot of Jakes message is glued to the back of the letter]

The 'part of who you are since birth' is something I completely understand. Social anxiety made my life much more difficult, but without it I wouldn't be where and who I am today. It is always interesting to figure out things in which we are similar to each other.

I am not overly concerned either, thanks to you I got some advantages. Also that we, thanks to 'Goldie' and the TSB timeline, know that the Man without a Face is possibly a hacker, too.

I am honestly not completely sure what to think of the word association. You also noticed how Liskas writing changed, right? And that she suddenly stopped.

How did you get the idea to give her this word association? And what did you intend on figuring out?

As for your last part...I don't think we should be that surprised about defying the laws of physics anymore. It becomes far too normal.

~ Jake

(There are eraser marks in the margins again.)

Lis,

You'll make it, I know you will. Just one day, and you can get out of there. Stay safe, stay alert, and stick to crowds where possible, and you'll be just fine.

Yeah, I took a glance at the cipher over Jake's shoulder and I've got nothing. It's just scribbles to me. I might get something on a closer look, but I sort of doubt it.

That letter thing would be cool to test sometime, but like Jake said earlier. Priorities.

Make sure you're drinking enough, okay? Especially if you end up going someplace sunny. But I'm sure the dizziness isn't going to be anything too important for the moment. We can address it later, when you're safer.

Thank you, Lis. I might take you up on that offer to talk later. But I can't now. And I never said those two words. Nor do I have a plan. Gur ragvgvrf znl or noyr gb ernq zvaqf, naq gurl qrsvavgryl pna ernq gurfr yrggref.

—Yu

(The handwriting changes to Jake's.) Hello, Lis.

As Yuvon said, exercise caution when returning to your workplace, but if all goes as expected and as planned you should have no issues. Once you are done, if you bring your phone on your vacation, do not answer calls from numbers you do not know, and especially do not answer the kidnapper's calls and messages.

Thank you for the offer of help :) However, I will manage alone eventually. It will simply take time. A lot of time.

At least I know the cause of her behavior now. I am somewhat at a loss for what to do about it, though. I will do my best to lighten her mood, but given that I am a living reminder of the issue, that may prove difficult.

I second Yuvon's suggestion of hydration. Dehydration has been proven to have several negative effects on the body.

That is all for now, Lis. I will speak to you later.

Jake,

As Yuvon was the one to come up with the idea, I will let her explain her thought process behind the word association.

(The handwriting changes to Yuvon's.) Lis said something a bit weird in the last letter. She was talking about how Goldie had likely helped things settle in the TSB timeline and mused that Goldie probably did all they could. Then Lis' writing grew neater (hope Jake showed you the word association thing so you know what I'm talking about) and she wrote "Like they always did..." before mentioning being dizzy, and seemingly forgetting she wrote that entirely.

I've known for a while that Lis had some memories relating to Goldie she couldn't access for one reason or another, but I hadn't seen the block waver until then. I theorized that I might be able to bypass the block at least partially if I approached it indirectly, and it seems I was right to an extent. It's only too bad I can't do anything with scents, scents are heavily tied to memories.

I didn't have anything particular in mind to uncover at the time, but I figured that if Lis let slip characteristics of Goldie or snatches of memories, those could be useful later. I hadn't expected to nearly get a name, though— see how the first letter is capitalized? Definitely a name. I think I have an idea what the name is, but I don't want to say or write it until we want Goldie's attention. It's probably Latin, though, and you might want to check the root of the alchemical symbol for gold on the periodic table.

I think the words we can safely associate with Goldie, however, are: best friend, past, safety, familiarity. Silver is another possibility, but that may just be an association with gold.

...I wonder when Goldie's going to send me the pissed-off letter yelling at me for meddling in the secrecy of their identity XD

Because I have such a good track record for respecting privacy and secret identities.

(The writing changes to Jake's.) I am back.

The similarities and differences are quite fascinating, yes. If only we could conduct some sort of study where we could learn how Jakes differ and how they remain the same from universe to universe. But that would require that they trust we are who we say we are, and that their Detectives actually open the letters we've been sending. So it seems unlikely that will ever happen.

Yes. The news about the kidnapper being a hacker is still troubling to me, even all this time later. He must be quite skilled, for the likes of us to only realize from his own mockery that he is one. We will need to remain on guard. I will also need to begin monitoring the situation in Duskwood again. If the kidnapper has been freed from the stasis, I will need to work rather hard to keep that group safe, especially now that I do not have all my equipment. And very limited Internet access.

I really should not be shocked at this point, especially given the experiences Yuvon has recounted to me and the fact that I have not needed to eat nor drink since coming to this place. I suppose that was simply the first time I directly saw the lack of logic, other than in Yuvon sending the letters.

I have little more to say. Goodbye for now,

Jake

(The letter tucks itself in the paper clip with the others.)

[trails-of-the-past]

TotP - Chapter 1 pt 1

The time of myths and magic changed, even if the 'mons still inhere the force the allfather Arceus gave them not everyone made use of them as they once did. Some used the force for one's own end, some used them to help others, so they could all live a happy life.

As the time of legends passed and even the legendaries were nothing more than a myth, the minor species who colonized the whole world, started to grow into a new society. Villages grew into cities and the monarchy vanished. They lived with rules who should protect the weakest of them so everyone of them would be equal. But even the best intention isn't enough if the mind of some 'mons is corrupted by their own ideals. But that's life. And even if some could buy anything they desire, they were also poor because they lost their heart.

The world changed at some points but not everything could be erased forever. So the way they would live their life would depend on the experience they went through. And there will be some stories who are worth hearing about, because even if they might have an equal fate, the way they went through wasn't the same.

The wind who rustled through the leaf canopy, the sun who shone right into his eyes. That was the only thing he could remember. There wasn't anything before this moment. Where was he? Where did he come from? Who was he? There were only questions but no answer in a forest, in the middle of nowhere, with a headache and without memory.

It was like the first time he stood on his own, the first time he tried to walk and the first time he tumbled, but it was strange how familiar this feeling was. But even if it was familiar it couldn't bring back the memories he might have lost. Without memories what should he do? Was there something he could do? Was there someone who searched for him? Where could they be? Where should he search for them or should he start to search after all? Would he remember them if he saw them? He wasn't sure about it but one thing formed in his mind. If he waited, he couldn't survive. To survive was an instinct deep inside of him and with time they would grow stronger.

It was stunning after he traveled through the forest, as he arrived in the first city he ever saw. So many 'mons at one place, so many noises and smells, who were all new for him. But even if it was stunning, deep inside he felt something new, it was something strange that came from his stomach, but he couldn't tell what this might be. The 'mon, old and young, looked at him and the feeling inside him was only made worse. The life in the forest has left its mark on him. The shirt he wore was worn out and bruises were all over his body. He was different and it was written all over those faces. But even if all those eyes lay on him he moved on and looked for someone who had a different look on his face, but there wasn't any one. In every face was the same look, they avoided him, but there was also something else. Something he couldn't identify.

As he got hungry he did the only thing he knew. They had the same berries he knew from the forest and so he took the one he knew to fill his stomach. The 'mon behind the booth raised his voice, but he couldn't understand the meaning behind them. The shop owner only became angrier, at least he wasn't aware that the boy in front of him couldn't understand his words. It was a fast movement and the boy hit the ground. His cheek ached and as he looked up he could see the shop owner right in front of him, his hands turned into fists. The boy jumped on his legs before he snarled at the older 'mon, like he learned from nature. Another punch, but he could dodge it, jumped back at the shop owner who countersunk his teeth in his opponents arm. He yelled, but the boy didn't stop it now. A loud click sound through the streets, followed by a painful yell, when the shop owner's arm yielded amongst the boy's teeth. An uproar went through the 'mons around them. The boy wasn't sure what happened, they yelled at him, they threw things at him and he didn't know the reason behind this, at least he only defended himself. The only thing he was aware of was that he had to run.

He escaped the city, full of strange things and 'mon who didn't want him around. The first time he met others and he wasn't sure if he wanted to meet others over again. They're strange, they're loud and they'll look at him so strange. So he would avoid the citys! With this decision the instincts he followed to survive solidify, at least it was the only thing he trusted.

Everytime he met another 'mon their reaction were the same, they would look at him and they would chase him away if he would defend himself against them. And so he learned from the experiences he made. He lived on his own like this, but there was one thing he had to learn. Not everyone is the same.

Rain fell in sheets and the little body quivered. He was soaked to the skin, he felt heat and cold at the same time. His vision became blurred and he started to breath heavily. He had no clue what was wrong with him or how he could help himself, his instincts couldn't help him now, this was something new, and so was the sound he could hear, it was a dull sound in his ears and a shadow appeared right in front of him. The boy tried to snarl and make a move, but he couldn't, before his vision blacked out.

Warmth. That was the first thing he could feel again when he awoke. It wasn't like the heat inside his body, it was more comforting. As he opened his eyes he couldn't see the leaves of the trees or a cloudy sky, something blocked his view that looked like wood. The boy arose himself before his ears winced as he could hear this sound again. He looked around only to face another 'mon, an elder Zoroark who looked at him, but it wasn't the same look as the others. He snarled and bare his teeth as he jumped on his feet. But the Zoroark wasn't afraid or yelled at him, it only smiled and said something he couldn't understand. But she noticed it, she could see that he couldn't understand her words. She raised one of her paws and held it near him, his snarl grew louder and he tried to reach a safe spot, but on this soft thing was no safe spot, there was only wood in his back who blocked his way. But the Zoroark didn't hit him. She only held her paw in front of him as if she waited for him to do the first move. With her other paw she touched her chest only to speak again, it was always the same until he could understand what this word meant, that she meant herself with it. 'Evangeline' It was the first word he learned.

This was the routine of many days, even weeks, but even if he lived most of the time alone and in the wild the boy started to learn and he was a smart one. He learned to speak, to read and to write within a short time, but most of all he learned to trust. Evangeline was patient with him and wouldn't rush anything. She taught him everything she knew, after he could understand her words and wouldn't snarl at her, everything that would be necessary to live a good and healthy life, to treat wounds, his own and, so she hoped, the one of others. For some years it was only the boy and the elder who lived on the little farm, only sometimes someone would visit them, and they grew fond of each other, he even got his name from her. They became a real family.

But all good things come to an end.

Evangeline became ill. It was suddenly and unsigned, but with every passing day her power started to die down. The boy tried his best to use what she taught him but no potion or balm could help her. „Why? Why won't it work? It should be alright by now, I did everything right.“ He was desperate but the Zoroark only smiled and touched gently his head. „Don't worry my little child, it will be alright even if you can't see it right now, but someday you will understand. So please don't forget what I told you, my beloved little child.“ At this time he didn't know what she meant, she told him so much and he remembered almost everything, but what was the thing he should remember? Even if he wasn't sure the boy nodded before he leaned forward to her. It was the last embrace they could share.

After Evangeline passed away he was alone again and again he saw the sickening nature of the most 'mons. They lived for money and their own profit. He was expelled from the farm he called home because someone wanted to take it down only to raise a building they could use to heighten their profit. Everything his grandmother built up her whole life, everything he got to know and love vanished within seconds and he couldn't do anything against it, because he was filled with grief and too weak to do anything against it. He lost everything because of such 'mons and he would never forgive them.He grew older and started to ignore the eyes who followed him, he visited cities and only talked to others if he had to restock. But with time one idea formed in his mind, something he had to do, he wanted to make up for lost time, this was something he had to fulfill. But with this idea on his mind and as time passed he lost track of his grandmother's last words and so he forgot the words she meant, while his heart grew colder.

[paintedrecs]

You're such a good author!! What are you thinking when you're writing? And what's your editing process? If you don't mind me asking!!

Ah, thank you!! I’m very often thinking “wow I am not a good author” while I’m writing, so it’s always nice to hear positive responses once the finished work is out there. :)

This ended up (unsurprisingly) long, so be aware there’s gonna be a Read More.

My editing process is very, very nitpicky. To begin with, I edit a LOT as I write, so those two questions share some answers. 

I considered posting a photo of a page I handwrote this week, but I don’t want to subject you to that. Suffice it to say that if I’m writing in pen, there’s a lot of scribbling and paragraphs that branch off into the margins and spiral around the edges of the page as I rework sentences and expand sections. Before I switched to writing almost exclusively on my computer, I used to use a mechanical pencil to make all that a little less messy. Still, though. Eraser shavings. Everywhere.

It seems like most of fandom swears by writing sprints, and I can’t do it. I either write in long, tireless stretches where I forget to move for hours, or I spend an hour writing a sentence, frowning thoughtfully at it, tweaking a few words, tilting my head to the side, changing it back, muttering, “No I don’t like that,” and shifting the structure until it fits with the rest of the story.

I spend a lot of time reading my own writing out loud, which is part of why I’m not usually that productive when I try to write in public. (Although once I’m in the zone, I’ll write on my phone as I walk to the grocery store, take the bus to work, etc. I probably still mutter to myself.) At this point, my poor neighbor has probably heard the entirety of all my fics in scattered bursts. I’ll read a single paragraph to myself six times in a row to make sure the pacing sounds right and the dialogue feels natural.

I’m a start-to-finish writer: if I write scenes out of order, they won’t work in the final version. With tide pulls, I wrote all this emotional, ultra angsty dialogue that I was expecting to stick into one of their final scenes, but by the time I got there, it didn’t fit. I initially tried to squeeze stuff around it to keep those lines intact, but it’s never a good idea to force your characters into something that they don’t naturally want to do over the course of the story. It rings false, and I think readers can generally tell.

That’s not to say that I don’t plan ahead or map out certain arcs or important scenes. I just don’t write them in their full form until I’ve reached that point. PDIW was much, much too long to plunge through without an outline; if I hadn’t marked down and organized all the emotional points I wanted to hit, I would’ve lost control over the scope of it. (Which is ridiculous to say when it’s over 200k, but it had the most detailed outline I’ve ever made for one of my stories.) 

Still, though, pieces moved around a lot. I’d push a scene into a later chapter when it turned out that Derek and Stiles needed to talk to each other more before getting to that exchange. Or a conversation that was meant to be between Derek and Laura ended up being between him and Cora instead, catching both of us by surprise. Laura was always Derek’s best friend and confidante, but he turned out to have a lot more in common with his younger sister than he’d ever realized. Of course I had to let that play out. 

There are a few sentences I desperately wanted to get into the final version, but they’re clumped at the bottom of my notes doc, along with all the other unused or deleted material. Sometimes you think a phrase sounds really, really pretty, but if your character doesn’t want to say it, that’s all there is to it. 

I don’t have a beta for my shorter fics, because by the time I’m done writing, I’ve probably spent more time editing than actually putting new words down on the page. (Unless they’re tumblr fics or notfics, in which case please forgive the fact that they’re wobbly; they’re just me having fun!) That doesn’t make the final product perfect by any means, but I don’t have a regular beta set up to read over my fics for me, and I don’t like bugging people unless it’s necessary.

For my longest fics, I tried to rope in at least 2-3 betas. It seems like most people in fandom just share their fic’s Google Drive link, sometimes while it’s still a WIP, and have their betas all work in the same doc. It may be annoying that I don’t do that…but I want to get separate, unbiased responses. If multiple people tell me to fix the same thing, it definitely needs more work. With that said, I’ve found that there actually doesn’t tend to be all that much overlap, because betas have different styles in much the same way that writers do.

The fandom dream (or any writer’s dream) is to have a set, longterm writer-beta relationship, because it really does involve a lot of trust and communication. One of my PDIW betas was the wonderful @bleep0bleep​ , who prodded tirelessly at all my pronouns and long paragraphs but also took the time to learn my style and where I most need/want help. (She also laughed at me when I had conversations with myself in the comments while figuring out how to fix passages that she’d told me weren’t working.) She and other betas found gaps that you simply can’t see for yourself after spending that long immersed in your own story. I ended up writing a few extra scenes and expanding some other areas, and the final version is absolutely better as a result.

If this was going to be a published work, I would’ve ideally set it aside for several months so I could come back to it with fresh eyes. My posting schedule for PDIW was already months behind what I’d originally planned, and I was super eager to share it, so I rushed right into the next stage. I also very much wanted to start posting on April 1, since that was Stiles’s birthday in the fic.

So I finished writing the final chapter, gave myself about a day to celebrate, then went right back to the first chapter and started editing. My betas got those pretty-much-completed chapters, and I took their edits and suggestions and transferred them back into my central doc. Then I started drafting the fic on AO3, editing each chapter one final time as I was posting. 

It was…tiring. I wrote the fic in about 7 months and edited the entire thing twice…almost three times?…in a little over a month. I’m going to give myself more leeway if I ever do that again. Thank goodness for my speed-reading betas, though.

I don’t know if any of that was the kind of information you were interested in hearing. Welcome to my writing world, I guess? It’s a little messy, but it has pretty intricate organization if you know what to look for.

As for what I’m thinking as I’m writing…that’s a complicated answer. Is it weird to say that I’m kind of not thinking anything? Writing is a craft, but it’s also a strangely instinctive part of myself that I tap into when it’s going well. I absolutely cannot write if I’m busy thinking about where a scene should go or whether anyone’s going to like reading it or if I even remember how to string words together. That’s the kind of thing that makes me slam right up against writer’s block. Or, if I do manage to get words down, they’re clunky and I’m never really satisfied with them.

When I sit down to write, I do my best to clear my mind out. I tap into my characters. If I’m writing from Derek’s POV, I’m seeing him - all his gestures, mannerisms, the actions he’s taking in a scene - but it’s more important to me that I’m feeling what he’s feeling. The same goes for Stiles, or anyone else whose eyes I’m trying to see through. I guess I’m an emotional writer? I want to feel things as I’m writing, and if I did it right, my readers should feel things, too. It doesn’t always work, but when it does, it’s incredibly rewarding.

Reading has always been an escape for me. When I’m wrapped up in a book, I lose touch with the world around me and slide into the pages, living alongside the characters. Writing’s the same way. It’s an indescribable, addictive feeling. 

When I finished PDIW, it almost felt like I’d lost a part of myself, because I was letting go of something I’d been living with and dreaming about and spending so much time getting to know.

I’m glad I got to share it, though. It’s a wrenching, terrifying process, but you all made it worthwhile. The final step of a story is its readers. Thank you for being amazing ones, and for letting me share my words with you.