#i apologise there was absolutely no structure here i just rambled

[ominoose]

I personally think you should write a whole paragraph on Basil. I'd read it.

You don't have to ask me twice.

First off lets start off with the themes of the short film Lightninface.

The first thing we hear is "Just one week ago, even the word everything meant something else entirely", it's a film about change and evolving. We then see Basil, with a crisp shirt, slicked back hair smiling into the mirror as if laughing at something, he's practicing. Then the smile fades and he swallows sadly. He's crafting an outward persona, first indication he's someone that cares about outside appearances and he literally says "I thought I knew who I was, but I knew nothing" aka this man had a secure identity he cared about but that changed!

Then he's hit by lightning! And what's his first set of reactions? Go to a hospital, call 911, do any sort of medical care? No! It's cry about how he has a facial scar which is gonna impact how people view him and now directly clashes with his current standard of living and go crazy. How is he gonna attend board meetings and dinners with the parents and go out with his girlfriend now?! He can't, so obviously the only choice is scream, wreck the apartment, have a tantrum, take tons of pills, quit work, break up with the gf and leave the country.

The director portrays the entire breakdown as silly. With the music, the childlike tantrum, the noises, the antics, it's goofy. He breaks up with his girlfriend of three years that he's obsessed with, acknowledging she's cheated on him with a good friend but completely brushes that aside and clarifies that's not why they're breaking up! Basil's someone who doesn't care she's cheating because he's not only obsessed with her, but with the appearance she brings. With her he's a guy with a long term girlfriend! A hot one! And then he "has to dump" her because of his scar.

So we've established he's quite narcissistic, shallow, cares deeply about his outward appearance and how others perceive him and his life. Moving on, the whole monkey thing can be summarized as evolving, the theme presented at the start.

Modern man loses it all because of his scar and breaks down, so whats the solution? De-evolve, go back to the basics, go back to ape. Become what you are not, tear yourself down to the most basic concept and then build yourself back up as something new. As... well he doesn't name himself, but he lets us do that for him, and we call him Lightningface.

Also I gotta mention the tidbit scene with the records. He's playing the classical music, and that's been the soundtrack thus far. It's classy, posh, elegant. Then he pulls out this metal record thats not been listened to before, it's still in plastic, and when he plays it he's hesitant. Then he's loving it, thrashing around, metal head moment. Something that's not fitting with his previous image but he's tried it and embraced it.

The second phone call with his ex where he goes "I'm kinda freaking out... I'm fine, nevermind." He's manic, he's unsure of himself, of what to do and he has nothing at all to guide him, Basil can't rely on outward trends or influences to base himself on and is forced to craft a new version of himself from within.

"You will no longer find refuge in what you once were, but what you will become."

Does this go well? No!

If I was to summarize or conclude his personality it would be narcissistic, needy, manic, fanatical, defensive and curious. He's a people person, he is quickly engaged by new ideas, he's excitable, he's erratic and giddy and most importantly imaginative. And regardless of how that credits scene played out, he is still alive in my heart.

[morrisseyhaterr]

thank you sm for this long answer! get ready for some rambling from me too :)

i've talked about it on this blog before, but my favourite smiths song is definitely nowhere fast. it's such a typical "smiths-like" song, sounding really upbeat and happy, yet when you listen to the lyrics a whole different picture presents itself. honestly, i can't even sit still when that song comes on, because it physically gives me energy. i feel like i'm walking/dancing through manchester while pondering life with this song. the criticism of the British monarchy, the questioning of life's meaning and life in general, the anger, the sadness, but also the underlying hope for a better future - all this would feel forced in a different context, yet here, it all comes so naturally. i can't even explain why this song means so much to me, but it just does. the rest of the songs aren't in any particular order, i'm just listing off some songs that i love, have some memories attached too, or wish people would pay more attention to:

last night i dreamt that somebody loved me - there's a reason why this song is among both marr's and morrissey's fave smiths songs. the actual song feels like just haven awoken from a dream that was too beautiful, trying to get back to it, while wishing your real life was different - it REALLY achieved its goal for me - while the sounds from the miner's strike in the beginning not only make a statement against thatcher and neoliberalism, but also contrast the dream-like sound with real-life problems. can't say i never shed a tear to this song.

two songs i think are terribly, TERRIBLY underrated, are wonderful woman and london. you rarely see anyone mentioning these, but i think they definitely deserve more praise. (if you're interested in songs that don't follow typical song structures, i wonder how you feel about london?)

i definitely understand your praise for the song i know it's over. it's honestly up there with last night i dreamt for me, incredibly somber and the metaphors used just fit with the sound so perfectly.

finally, i know it's basic, but i just have to put how soon is now on my list. DEFINITELY a guitar masterpiece - it was johnny's goal tomake this song instantly recognisable, and he 100% succeeded - but what really maked me attached to this song is the time i first discovered it. at the end of last year, i was just starting to get into the smiths, and my grandma was in quite a bad condition (she is much better now, don't worry). i distinctly remember being on the train to visit her, and this song coming on. its sound perfectly complimented my emotions, despite the lyrics having absolutely nothing to do with my situation when looked at objectively. it made me sad, but also gave me strength.

i definitely understand not being able to pick a top 3, honestly, my answer to your question was all over the place haha - i could keep going on and on about songs i adore, but those were the first to pop into my mind. and definitely don't apologise, i'm happy to see someone as passionate about the subject as i am!

do you have a top 5/top 3/just a top 1 smiths song? if yes, which one and why? :)

See this is actually hard bc my list of smiths songs that I adore is longer than the list of ones I don't. I'd say in terms of favourites, I have a few that will probably always be up there, and some that i decide to rotate being obsessed with. but top 3 in no particular order are:

I Know It's Over - I tend to be a person who will obsessively listen to tracks, but not for long, because I get tired of songs very quickly. for some reason, IKIO is the exception to that rule - each time I listen to it it feels like I'm hearing it for the first time again, and I think it's because of the absolute complexity and depth of emotion - it's not so much of a song as it is a musical journey, a raw expression of pure emotional anguish. it's also a remarkably hard song to sing/imitate, at least initially, because it really doesn't have that typical verse/chorus/verse/chorus/bridge/chorus structure, and Morrissey's vocal delivery is incredibly free-flowing, rubato and expressive - it feels like the kind of delivery you'd get from a live performance, as though we're directly getting the emotions he's feeling at that moment, instead of something carefully constructed, which we know it is. also just the visual imagery of the lyrics - the soil, the sea that takes, the knife that slits, the sad veiled bride - it's all so evocative!!

also i am physically incapable of hearing the lines "it's so easy to laugh it's so easy to hate, it takes strength to be gentle and kind" and not fall in love at least a little bit.

I Won't Share You - for IKIO I talked a lot about the lyrics and Morrissey's vocal performance, and whilst that's also part of why I love I Won't Share You, this one's honestly more to do with the music - the vocal line is gorgeous but I don't think Morrissey could have written it if he wasn't being pulled in that direction by Johnny's music. idk, it's the chords or something I think??? Anyway this is one of the most beautiful pieces of music I know, I did cry the first time I heard it, and I still do sometimes when it randomly decides to hit extra hard. Can you blame me??? I'm listening to the last song of the last smiths studio album and it ends with the lovely, gentle lament of "I'll see you somewhere, I'll see you sometime, darling..." It's a shame that Morrissey never does the last verse when he sings this song live, but I get it, it hurts too much. like same moz, it hurts for us too. and yeah, goes without saying but this is obviously a marrissey classic

Reel Around the Fountain - so this is the inverse, first track of first studio album lol. I first heard this track on an early autumn morning when the sun hadn't risen yet, and I put the smiths self titled cd into my car (it was one of the first cds I ever bought for myself). and I cannot. describe what a surreal feeling it is to hear those opening guitar chords hit after that drum beat as you're driving out in the complete darkness. (also!! those piano chords at the 4 min mark!!!!) it's an INCREDIBLE opener and such a beautiful representation of the smiths' music in general. It's also another one that tugs at my heartstrings - it's a pretty tune but there's also such a resigned feeling to the whole track. It's also the song that has the best demonstration of an aspect I like a lot in smiths songs, and that's the fact that a lot of the time it really feels like these songs have their own stories and characters? (even tho they’re not specifically narrative songs if you get me) the "you" in smiths songs is often not a generalised you (but rather a specific character that lives within the song), nor is the "i" always morrissey. I just always find myself wandering about the "you" and "i" of Reel Around the Fountain - i feel a great need to know them, which is silly

ok that was wayyyyy too much, sorry for the rambling lol. @morrisseyhaterr what are your own favourites?

[my-johnlockficrecs]

The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine (49k, M)

"It seems like after our conversation on your birthday we should really be better at this. That talk was more than we’ve ever had, but even still, we mostly talked around things rather than about them. There’s so much… so much I need to say, so much I’ve never said. And even now, just writing this out is so difficult. I feel like if I were to try to say this to your face I’d just end up having another wobbly, and while that has a certain amount of appeal, I’d rather not ruin all your nice shirts."

This is the fic that made me want to start a fic rec blog, so naturally, I don't have the first idea how to start this rec 😂 I'll do my best to do justice to the fic, a rather intimidating task if you ask me. If this rec is slightly less structured and more rambly than the others thus far, I do apologise — this fic just invokes a lot of feelings in me and it's difficult to categorise them well. I hope this rec is helpful nonetheless!

The Pieces That Fall to Earth, for me personally, is my go-to post season 4 fix-it fic. It is an incredibly comprehensive, touching, hot, and comforting read. It picks up after season 4 and basically fixes...everything. The boys go to therapy! And actually talk and communicate with each other! John's anger issues are taken seriously and addressed incredibly well and in such a compassionate manner. I absolutely love the dedication John has in this fic towards genuinely working on a lot of the repressed issues we see (subtextually, at the very least, and some more obvious ones) in the show. Likewise, Sherlock too gradually begins to open up and address his own mental health issues.

Told in an epistolary style (which is pulled off brilliantly, might I add) there are some truly lovely moments in this fic that I just have to mention, without giving too much away of course. An ongoing theme of this fic with regards to John, is him coming to terms with his sexuality, whatever it may be. The chapter where he finally figures it out and accepts — and rejoices in! — who he is, is truly moving. The way it's written, it feels like you're right there with him, feeling his exhileration and relief. My eyes genuinely misted over while I read that part.

The side friendships in this fic are also really lovely. We see a really nice Molly-John friendship, which I always love to see, because it makes so much sense! Molly helped out John so much with Rosie, it only makes sense that they become close to each other. Molly and Sherlock too share a beautiful friendship in this fic — even in canon, Molly's always been incredibly perceptive of Sherlock and she sees him startlingly clearly. So it is here as well. The understanding and affection she affords Sherlock is heart-warming. Canon really didn't treat Molly and Sherlock's dynamic very well, so it's lovely to see this story do it justice. Molly in general is treated like the queen she is 👑 Her sharper, more assertive side, comes out well in this fic, which I love to see. We also get Greg/Molly on the side, for anyone who ships them 😉.

Another friendship I live for in this fic is Sherlock and Lestrade's. There's a specific chapter where Sherlock goes out for drinks with Lestrade (a testament to all the growth Sherlock achieves in this story), and it's equal parts funny and touching. I think the author gets to the heart of their friendship really well, with Lestrade as a sort-of father figure who genuinely cares for Sherlock, and how Sherlock returns that regard in his own way. Lestrade also has a really fun rapport with John! Very much “mates who rib each other good-naturedly but can also manage emotional honesty occasionally.”

There are so many other things I love about this fic! Harry and John's relationship, for one. Yes Harry is in this fic, yes the siblings actually talk and bond, yes it's awesome. James Sholto makes an appearance and I love how he's integrated into the narrative. And Rosie!! Ugh, I love Sherlock's relationship with Rosie and how much he loves her and wants to be in her life. There are some incredibly adorable moments between the two of them 🥺 (the Nap Scene™️ lives in my head rent free). Mycroft also has a presence in this fic, because of course he does, except he actually behaves like a good older brother. Still protective but not overly so.

One last thing I wanted to mention separately, is the absolute genius and authenticity of Ella's (John and Sherlock's therapist) case notes. Since this is an epistolary style fic, it's told through texts, emails, letters, video transcripts and so on. The whole concept, and the way the author makes it work so incredibly well, is masterful. Ella's case notes though — every time I read the fic, I'm impressed anew by how professional they sound and how they tell us the progress of John and Sherlock's respective mental health issues so comprehensively. I can only imagine the effort that must have gone into that, and honestly, kudos to the author 👏🏼👏🏼

I’m going to wrap this rec up here, because while I could ramble on for ages, I’ve been anxiously scanning this for well over a week and it’s not about to get any less disorganised 😂 To sum up: brilliant fic, adeptly told in an epistolary fashion, very cathartic and moving; read it!

[lone-flower]

#FFXIVWrite2021 entry - prompt: “Debonair” ➤ 1640~ word count ➤ emet/wol established relationship, mid 5.0 spoilers/era

debonair /ˌdɛbəˈnɛː/ adjective • confident, stylish, and charming

        It was the nightless eve prior to the Mt. Gulg operation, all their efforts converging into an allyship spanning Norvrandt, and the completion of the oversized Talos. All that remained was the task of imbuing the automaton with magic — with life — upon daybreak, and the campaign would begin.

        In spite of the recent Sineater peril and subsequent overthrow of power within Eulmore, the pampered citizens oh so fond of their galas and get-togethers had all but demanded a fête be held in honour of their saviors and those who were lost, along with seeking to dispel tensions preceding tomorrow’s battle. All were invited, from the most opulent maiden to the most unscrupulous street urchin, with the slight ulterior motive of better integrating the new-found societal structure of Eulmore; no better way to relate to another than by brushing shoulders, after all. Food was promptly prepared (no meol in sight) and the festivities began in earnest as one and all flocked to the main hall.

        The plaza was positively abuzz once Abarbluom had made his way from the powder room, the more spirited attendants transforming the court into a large ballroom while others opted to remain seated and eat. An impromptu musical band had formed near the storefronts, its members composed of men and women in various tiers of dress, a heartfelt tune teased from their instruments. Children weaved between the crowds while playfully chasing each other, almost certainly looking to eat more than twice their fill with sweets alone.

        He looked over the crowds for a familiar face, linking eyes over bobbing heads and feathered hats with Thancred, who heartily waved back. Both Minfilia and the twins sat at his side, who rose a glass of water in his direction, rousing a smile to Abarbluom’s lips; he dared not envy Thancred’s evening charge as babysitter. He continued to scan about the hall and caught a glimpse of the Exarch himself, rushing out the corridor leading to the Beehive, cane in hand as he pulled his hood over his face in shame. Smoothing down his robes and composing himself, he strode into the main hall and took station beside Urianger, muttering something to him before he replied.

        “The chaste Exarch, at the Beehive?” Y’shtola’s voice. “What will the people say?”

        She had come to Abarbluom’s side without his knowing and gave him a friendly touch on the back, smiling up at him.

        “We mustn’t tease him,” he responded, laced with sarcasm. “The poor man just had the shock of his life.”

        “All in good spirits. An exposed thigh may temper the lad.”

        The two shared a chuckle as they observed the crowds, now sharing a silence. Music and laughter mingled into a single sound that reverberated about the chamber, bringing a tap to Abarbluom’s foot.

        “It’s blinding, you know,” Y’shtola spoke, almost to herself. “That Aether of yours.”

        Abarbluom swallowed. “I almost want to apologise, but I understand that would be quite foolish of me.”

        She turned to him, concern touching her face. “You will tell us when it’s too much, won’t you?”

        “You have my word.” Reassuringly, having absolutely no intention of doing so, betraying the thrumming, encroaching pain at his core. “Care to dance?” he dodged.

        She sighed, gesturing down. “I believe you already have a partner.”

        He was jostled by a small hand tugging at his petticoat then, only to be met with the large pleading eyes of a young Mystal girl of no more than ten Summers, sporting a gown covered in mismatched patches.

        “What a wonderful dress!” he remarked, kneeling to her height, confrontation with Y’shtola sufficiently avoided for now.

        The girl beamed, emboldened. “My mum made it for me, she did, the other kids laugh at me for it but... she said I could wear it today because she says the night time will come again soon!”

        She spoke in that excitable ramble-on way children were known to, performing a wobbly curtsey for Abarbluom who applauded in reply.

        “Well, we’ll show them then, won’t we?” He offered his hand and she took a finger in hers. To Y’shtola, “Duty calls.”

        The girl led him by hand amongst the twirling dancers, their faces a blur in motion. She was at most a third of his full height, but he tried his best to take her hands in his as she stood on his boots, her dress fluttering as they turned about. They fell into a very simple box waltz, the girl giggling and smiling all the while as he spun her round, pausing only to stick her tongue out at the boys who assumedly teased her.

        With a rousing flurry the song ended, and the two parted to bow before honouring the band with a round of applause with the others. It was in the moment or two of silence before the band resumed that Abarbluom had bid farewell to the girl, sending her off with a raise of his hand —

        crack

        — vision clouded with pain, pleasant music transformed into discordant tones, the Mystel confused and anxious, inner voice screaming to get away from the crowds before he, before he —

        Barely composing himself, Abarbluom gave her a gentle pat on the head before excusing himself to the fresh air of the balcony surrounding the plaza, scarcely aware of his own actions; he met with Y’shtola’s eyes wide across the hall, giving a weak smile.

        Rounding the corner which led to the outer terrace, he exploded into a violent coughing fit, haggard breaths racking at his chest. A passing group of Eulmorans looked and laughed, thinking him yet another overindulgent party-goer, leaving to give him privacy. Shining white spattered about the top of his hand as Abarbluom fought to compose himself, fought back against the light inside him.

        His vision clearing and breathlessness passing, he stared down at the slick of fluid as it glimmered, luminous even in the shade, as exhausted tears began to prick at his eyes. Shifting his weight to lean against the wall, he slowly drew a handkerchief from his inner pocket, listlessly cleaning his hands before taking it to his lips. The beams of light bared down on him harshly, assailed with its majesty inside and out.

        “Are you alright?” A chair grated across the floor.

        Abarbluom heard them approach, his vision bleary through tears, now desperate to recover and control himself in the presence of another. He combed fingers through his hair and wiped at his face before the stranger firmly took his wrist in a gloved hand.

        “I’m sorry, it’s nothing —”

        “Enough, quit it.” Commanding. “Calm down.”

        He righted his spectacles suitably to see, finding Emet-Selch looking up at him with a furrowed brow; not in anger, but in genuine sympathy. Abarbluom sighed, arching down to take him into an embrace as Emet kept his hands at the Roegadyn’s waist. They parted, Emet taking a hand to Abarbluom’s cheek as he leaned into the touch, giving a single soothing rub.

        “Come.”

        Much like the Mystal earlier, he was led by hand to where Emet had been, promptly being seated himself as Emet kneeled by his side, their fingers linked together. The shaded terrace had been prepared with a handful of tables, each with a pair of chairs. It was common to enjoy lunch or breakfast out here, with the evening air often chasing patrons inside. Abarbluom shakily took a glass of water at the table to his lips before slumping in a sigh.

        “I don’t think I can do it,” he choked, gazing out at the cliffed expanse of Kholusia and the radiant halo of Mt. Gulg. “Not again.”

        There was a twinkle in Emet’s eye then, scarcely noticeable as he rose to his feet. “It’s too much, is it not?” He took the seated Abarbluom in his arms, pressing his head to his chest. “They ask far too much.”

        “It has to be me,” Abarbluom mumured against the cloth of Emet’s sleeve, eyes fluttering closed. “I can’t fail them - my duty. I already owe so much.”

        Emet paused his gentle ministrations at the words, a pang echoing about his core as he inwardly cringed. “Has the coughing passed?” he detracted, no longer interested in chasing his avenue of interest - for now. It could wait.

        “I feel… a lot better.” Abarbluom replaced the glass on the table, giving him a tiny smile. “This isn’t the first time, I just - I will never get used to it.”

        “Not much longer,” Emet cooed with a peck to Abarbluom’s brow. “A true hero worth his salt must be strong.”

        “And you would know?”

        Emet pulled a soured expression. “Would you dance with me?”

        Abarbluom blinked at the query, the jubilant music from within the plaza finally audible to him once again. “I would like that a lot.”

        He left his seat and pulled Emet into an intimate embrace (a sharp intake of breath), the two slipping into a slow dance. With his palm snugly at the ancient’s slim waist - a single hand almost wrapping entirely around - he dipped his head low, meeting the crown of Emet’s head. They stepped in rhythm to the muffled notes, Emet’s robes unfurling, Abarbluom tenderly dipping him low.

        The song reached its crescendo, and they sealed it with a kiss.

        “How debonair of you,” Emet chided, flustered despite himself. “I’m not some Spring maiden to be swept off her feet.”

        “And I would’ve obliged you much sooner had you approached me,” Abarbluom countered, releasing Emet from his hold and watching him trail away. “Instead of gloomily sulking out here.”

        He turned back to give a sly smile. “You forget, dear hero, how else would I get to be with you alone?”

        Abarbluom would remain absent from the rest of the festivities, inviting all sorts of displeasure from the Scions following his reappearance the following morning, ready for duty.

[mrsmarymorstan]

favourite chapter in fb?

Chapter 123 without a doubt. 

I mean, I love Sorta Cinderella and the True Form and I have yet to read Kyoko’s backstory without bursting into tears... but 123 is just such a perfect CHAPTER in itself. It’s the culmination of everything that’s been building up between Yuki & Kyo since day one. It’s also just so wonderfully STRUCTURED. 

The parallels at the end of Yuki and Kyo’s internal monologue. The side step for humour in the middle of the fight. Yuki TRUE character as an Arsehole shining through oh so brightly! Kyo looking so G. Damn BROKEN about everything and how he doesn’t even fight back when Yuki throws him across the room.... 

It’s just so absolutely perfect and there’s a REASON I own 3 separate translations of it. (TokyoPop, YenPress and Carlsen) 

I actually wrote a very rambly post HERE about it in response to ANOTHER Anon who wanted to know why I loved a scene where Kyo was viciously attacked. 

I think the only chapter that springs to my mind immediately that mimics this one in terms of format is Chapter 100, which is the chapter with the Paper Flowers. It feels like you get a lot of moments squished into one chapter, but really it’s just a show of how far the 3 main couples have gotten in their realtionships. I adore the metaphor of the paper flowers being made and given. The Prince Yuki girls steal Yuki’s from him because they admire him so much, the Kyo Fan Girls steal his because they believe it will make him love them. And Shigure takes the flower Tohru is making and unfolds it himself to keep. 

So when Machi runs around the whole school actively seeking Yuki out, and then throws the flower in his face, we know that it’s because she recognises who he is, and is there to GIVE in the relationship rather than take. Sure she’s embarrassed and surely about it, but everyone else is treating him like he’s above everything and don’t want to include him because he’s just on another plane... and Machi throws things in his face by way of a Hello. 

Tohru is in a panic about the curse and what that means. We’re also told that at the start, the flowers are being made to mark graduation, meaning that Tohru has exactly one year left to break the curse if she wants to free Kyo. When she tries to broach the subject with him though, he snaps a little and tells her to drop the subject, causing her to withdraw even more. But Kyo apologises, and reaches out with a paper flower he crafted himself. Kyo is giving her his love, she’s not stealing it, or forcing it upon herself. Kyo reaches out and hands her the flower and she delicately accepts it. There’s silence as it happens, and it’s like an understanding between the pair of them as to what it all mans. Soon Kyo will leave. Kyo loves her. Neither can talk about this because they’re too afraid to confront those feelings just yet. 

Then you have Shigure visiting Akito and handing her the paper flower. It’s something that she doesn’t recognise because she was home schooled, and it’s something that harkens back to the memory most dear to Akito, Shigure presenting her with a flower and telling her that he cares about her “and that is the honest... and unshakable truth”.  It’s a nice little bit of foreshadowing, and Shigure’s “remember what” obviously sparks anger inside of her, but there’s still and intent towards love being offered in the same way Machi threw her flower at Yuki and Kyo gently offered his to Tohru. 

And of course, these are paper flowers. They need guarding and protecting to keep them safe, but they’ll also last a life time if you allow it. What better metaphor for love could you find? 

[studythemacrocosm]

Free Printable to do list!!!

Smash it to do list 💫

Hi guys!!! I decided that for my first original post I would try to make it special, (totally inspired by the awesome printables of @emmastudies!!) so I designed this cute a5 to do list (and it took WAY longer than I thought hahahaha but it was honestly so worth it)

i really love the sticky note to-do lists from Knock Knock Stationery, especially the ‘Get Your Shit Together’, ‘Productive AF’, ‘Today’s The Day’ and ‘Today’s Plan Of Attack’ options, but I always thought how helpful it would be if I combined what I liked about each of my favourite to do lists into one.

So for example, what I thought was great about the ‘Get Your Shit Together’ pad was how it compartmentalised tasks into easy and more difficult ones, which was a good way of figuring out what tasks to get done first and which to do later. But the ‘Today’s Plan of Attack’ pad compartmentalised tasks in a different way: based on how important/critical they were: most critical; would be nice; not a chance. I thought that it would be helpful to use both methods of compartmentalisation, because figuring out what was both easy and most critical but also the least important and most difficult would allow me to easily decide which tasks to get done first, based on two criteria. 

The ‘Today’s The Day’ pad was always perfect for me because the separation of tasks into ‘Morning’, ‘Afternoon’, and ‘Evening’ gave me enough structure to keep me focused on tasks, whilst not being too strict and confined for me too follow. Personally, I’ve always found that simply writing a long to-do list for the entire day was way too flexible and quite overwhelming - there wasn’t enough structure and guide in order to motivate me to get everything done. But equally, planning every single hour of my day into sections proved to be way too stifling for me, because I feel like it was unrealistic for me to actually follow the to-do list perfectly. I found that using the ‘morning; afternoon; evening’ method was perfect in giving me the flexibility I wanted but also the structure to organise myself and get stuff done. Additionally, since I am very a much a morning person, using this method was also very helpful in making me plan my day so it could be the most effective - i.e. placing the more difficult tasks in the morning and keeping the easier, shorter tasks in the afternoon and evening worked perfectly for me and enabled me to be my most productive! 

As a result, I decided to incorporate all of these elements into one to-do lists (which was quite a task in itself lol) but I’m quite happy with how it turned out! I wanted to put my own personal spin on the ‘‘Today’s Plan of Attack’ pad from the Knock Kncon Stationery range, so I represented the urgency of a task with the letter ‘U’ and three red exclamation marks for an extremely important task; two organe exclamation marks for an important task; and one green exclamation mark for a less important task. However, I pretty much kept the ‘Easy Shit’ / ‘Tough Shit’ aspect the same (except removing the swear word, trying to keep this PG haha) and the ‘Morning; Afternoon; Evening’ aspect the same too. I was also inspired by Ruby Granger’s Pumpkin Productivity ‘Master To Do List’ with regards to the key, because I absolutely loved the idea of colour coding tasks based on their estimated length of time, as this is another way of compartmentalising tasks based on a set of criteria. (as you can tell I’m all about compartmentalising haha ;) ) I also like the inclusion of a key based on what type of task you’re doing, which can be written in a specific colour, because it encourages you to vary your day and not be stuck on what type of task for too long (i.e. studying) as it’s important to make time to exercise, socialise, and relax!

I tried to organise the printable to be easy to use - choose a different colour pen for each type of task (using the key to distinguish which colour corresponds to which task) and then write them with a particular colour. Also colour code the timings based on your colour preference for short/medium/long tasks, and colour in the adjoining column marked 'L' based on how long each task will be. Then just cross off the tasks as you go along!

I also wanted to colour the background of the three separate times of the day to make the to-do list look a bit more fun, and I chose from my 3 favourite colours! 

So there we have it, my first original post yayyy and a free printable!! I sincerely apologise for how much rambling there is in this post but I’m just so excited that after so many hours I’ve finally finished with the printable to post it here!!! thank you x

[sundaynightnovels]

11/11/11

so i’ve been tagged by @kidsarentallwrite​ for this one, and @a-ray-of-moonshine​ , so i’ll be answering both here! thank you so much for thinking of me! <3  What song makes your OC go absolutely, batshit feral? okay i really don’t know the answer to this one, but hmmmm let me think . i think that zhen’s the sort to sing songs loudly and obnoxiously just to be an annoying ass and lu’d join her, and then yu(f) would be really mega pissed because she’s right in the next room trying to do some work when these two tone-deaf idiots are screeching their lungs out in the kitchen so yes, zhen & lu’s singing would make yu(f) go absolutely feral. anything they sing.  i think the OTHER yu(m) would go absolutely feral when jun, being a lil piece of shit who likes to get on his nerves, sings songs about rain. because yknow, yu(m)’s name means rain. right now the song i’m thinking of is jay chou’s 听见下雨的声音 (which means, listen to the sound of rain falling) and jun would sing it whenever yu(m) tries to say something because of, yknow, the title. and then blatantly ignore whatever yu(m)’s trying to say. so yes, the two yu(s) lead very sad lives. please give them more love. (though i’d understand if you don’t, one is an Antisocial Edgelord and one is an Edgy Antisocial Lording Over Others . there’s a difference)  What would your OC go on an hours long rant about given the opportunity? for shou? anything. absolutely anything. off the top of my mind, the sun (i’ve mentioned this so many times, don’t even ask), names (names have meanings to him!! why is zhen called zhen and teng called teng? why is he called shou??? a lot of them don’t share in his sentiments but he has Very Strong Feelings about it) lu is about his sad existence as a little boy who is starving on the streets. he’d say it often in the kitchen, when zhen is preparing some food.  zhen would be about rising costs of living and capitalism and having to work when they’re dead and yu(f) being a loser who only wants to work and teng being a loser who can’t get any girls and about how life is meaningless and the only solace is sleep and jia would rant with her for the fun of it yu(f) would rant about zhen, yu(m) would rant about jun, teng would rant about love and loneliness and ren would run away. (yes that was a pun, if you got it please appreciate)  Do your OCs have tattoos? If not, would they ever get a tattoo? Why or why not? i think i’ve answered this somewhere before??? not very sure . but yea anyway shou thinks it’s blasphemous but he would also consider one, zhen can’t be bothered, lu is a little kid WHAT ARE YOU ASKING FROM HIM teng is deathly afraid of the pain and it’s plainly obvious, jun isn’t scared of the pain but can’t be bothered either but also might already have one, you never know, yu(f) thinks it’s a waste of money, yu(m)... i feel like he might have one, not sure why. jia probably has one, some nice gorgeous insta-worthy one on her collarbone or on her back.  ren probably has one but he keeps it hidden and no one knows about it.  You bump into your OC on the street unexpectedly. How do you react? oh no. which one? if i catch shou in a distracted mood, i probably can get away without him yammering in my ears.  if it’s zhen, i’ll probably get sued for something and she’ll try to extort something from me. probably the bubble tea in my hands, or the money in my wallet. probably.  for lu he’d extort food. even if it’s in my stomach. yu(f) would be the one who bumps into me and continues marching off because she is a busy woman and ain’t got time for this.  ren would probably apologise and yknow, be a normal, nice human being. yu(m) would just stare and maybe walk away, but he looks fierce so it probs looks like he’s glaring and i’ll be scared shitless. or be pissed, depends on my mood. teng would apologise a lot a lot and offer to get my things (even if i hadn’t dropped them) and be a sputtering mess because unfortunately i am Woman and he cannot deal jun would ignore probably. depending on his mood, might make some cryptic comment that’s slightly disturbing. or he’d be really charming . who knows? jia would also probably react like a normal human being. not the nicest, but normal anyway. Which vines best describe your OCs? i am a failure and i don’t really know vines If your WIP is ever adapted into another form of media, what form would you like? Film, television, comic, podcast? Any others? sitcom, probably. also considering the amount of talking they do, maybe podcast. definitely not film. there’s no plot here. maybe theatre, just for fun. What is your favourite part about writing? what are you talking about?? Is you got to have a conversation with your favourite author, what would you talk about? the only author i can think of now is rick riordan and i’d talk about how i appreciate that he’s just doing what he wants and making it fun for him and diversity and lame humour and stupid characters and all that crap Have any writing habits or quirks? don’t write enough to have some. HAHA just kidding i have many many run-on sentences but i need them for RHYTHM and BEAT and FEELING you know???? long sentences are my jam and they help create music structure in writing do NOT TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME also use oxford commas. sue me. What do you prefer: dialogue or action? stupid banter-ish dialogue. evocative atmospheric-ish contemplation and inner musings no one acts. Who is the first Writeblr you followed? Do you remember why you followed them? i really don’t know! sorry! --

1. Is there a trope you never get tired of? characters who share One brain cell. family.  long rambling stories that go nowhere really bad humour yes some of these are not tropes, i am aware.

2. Who is your least favorite character in your WIP? Why? gasps!!!  okay so let’s go down the list, i hate shou because he’s annoying as hell and he talks so much he himself gives 4k worth of dialogue in a single chapter, i hate zhen because she doesn’t do or admit to anything and trying to figure her out is like trying to get a worm to walk on two feet, i hate lu because he only talks about food and be a dirty lil kid, i hate ren because he is too nice and doesn’t think for himself, i hate teng because he gets easily bullied and he also talks too much for no damn reason, i hate jun because he keeps himself too deep and it’s impossible to get him to do anything serious, i hate yu(f) because she only works and literally there’s nothing to describe in her boring one bedroom can she get out of her room already, i hate yu(m) because i still don’t know him well enough after all these months, i hate jia because somehow i keep forgetting her in these tag games even though her presence is Big in the wip  yup there you go. they’re all my least favourite. 

3. Let’s say I’m planning to visit the setting of your WIP for a weekend. What should I take with me? What are the most important things for me to know beforehand? Which of your characters should I ask to be my guide? uh. i’d just say Don’t.  don’t visit. it’s not a good thing, you can’t choose to visit anyway, you can’t take anything with you because yknow, well there’s this little chinese saying i kinda abide by for this wip and i’m lazy to type it out now but it was in my previous chinese mytho au drabble so yea  also. guide????? maybe the safest might be ren, but also not really. hm. if you want an enthusiastic little puppy, choose shou. but he might talk your ears off and annoy you so you know, pick your poison 4.Beginning, middle, or end—which is the hardest for you as a writer?

middle

5. Which is more inspiring for you: music or visual art?

music!

6. Do you have any other creative interests and hobbies besides writing?

lol i have no interests okay really. hm. i used to draw a little bit but i’ve stopped, used to play piano but i’ve stopped, used to play cello but i’ve stopped.  so yea, really, nothing much. 

7. How close is your WIP now to what you were expecting it to be when you just started?

i’ve finished the first draft since the start of the year, which is great and i totally didn’t expect it! .... am barely into the second draft though, so that’s a bummer. you see, this is why sometimes you shouldn’t get achievements. once that one milestone is reached you just lie down there at the rest stop and never get up. 

8. What are your plans for when you finish your WIP? Traditional publishing? Indie publishing? Putting it online for others to read for free?

traditional probs, because i don’t trust myself enough to do it on my own and i have little visual sensibilities so the cover would be hella ugly. also like, not even sure if traditional publishers would want my odd little plotless thing, but yknow, i like it. 

9. Your MC is here. On your doorstep. Planning to spend the day with you. Oh, and they know you’re the author responsible for everything that’s going on in the story right now. Are you expecting it to be a nice conversation, or do you maybe want to run and hide? :D

thank god i consider my MC to be shou instead of zhen. oh yea he’ll have lots of questions and he’ll poke at my brains a lot and he’d be hella noisy and also he’ll be sweating a lot because of his clothes and long hair, but still thank god it’s shou for the rest of them, i’d run and hide in the bottom of the ocean.

10. Name a song that could be your villain’s personal anthem.

eh. there’s no villain. if you consider the author to be the villain though hMMM i have favourite songs but no personal anthems, sorry

11. Is there anything you would never, ever write a story about, even if you were offered a large sum of money to do so?

eh. probs something like a law drama-ish thing. too many long words and complex jargon, not my kinda thing.

>> i’ll be tagging @coffehousecreations @bookenders @aslanwrites @rktho-writes @bahay-kubo @aloonycynic @arte-muse @elliswriting @mvcreates @inkpot-dreamer @dc-writes and here are my questions (which i think are pretty interesting heh feel free to do it and tag me even if i haven’t tagged you for it!) 1) your wip is now set in percy jackson’s world (if you don’t know, it’s just a bunch of monsters from greek mythologies chasing after young kids who have powers. we’re assuming your OCs are all demigods here, so they have powers and are being chased). who would be the one flailing and crying for help? who would be the one standing in front and thinking of a solution? who would be the first one eaten and who would be the one to survive till they reach camp?  2) after barely escaping percy jackson’s world, they’re now thrown into harry potter. the dementors are everywhere. what are the bad memories that these dementors draw from your OCs? how do they react to it? (don’t worry, they’re saved before being given the kiss. somehow.) 3) they���re now plopped into the good place. who is in the good place, and who is in the bad place? (for those who don’t watch the show, well. i think this naming speaks for itself) 4) ah, bummer. some misfiling of paperwork from the higher-ups, sorry. your OCs are once again alive and kicking, but then things happen again and well, they’re in marvel and the Snap has just happened (i.e., people have suddenly disappeared into dust after an event and no one knows what happened to them). assuming individual scenarios for your OCs where each of them are the only one left in the group, how would they react and what are their coping mechanisms? 5) and then the Blip happens and everyone is back, after five years! hurray! once again, assuming individual scenarios for your OCs where each of them are the only one left in the group, and then everyone suddenly returns like nothing’s happened, how would they then react to this change of scenario? how do they adapt? 6) all is well for a while, until The Fire Nation Attacked. who runs away and hides in isolation? who joins the colonising forces? who attempts a rebellion? who concedes defeat and lets the enemies in? 7) alright, now let’s give your OCs a break. they’re back in school and it’s high school musical! which typical high school cliques are each of them in and why? 8) now we’re in deadpool and it’s time to break the 4th wall and change the focus to: the author. what kind of jokes / things do you want to include in your wip but can’t seem to, maybe because of genre restrictions or age restrictions or it just, well, doesn’t fit? (ryan reynolds would say to include it all anyway, but yknow, that’s because he has money) 9) following the ryan reynolds thread, what is the one most indulgent thing you’ve done in your writing / would do in your writing?  10) who is your favourite friends member and why? (this is important okay? to those who haven’t watched friends... i can’t really give you much of an explanation for this one and more importantly -- why??) 11) this is the end! what is the stupidest thing you’ve done in your / with regards to your writing? it can literally be anything -- a stupid spelling mistake, gaping plot hole, printing it out for a friend to read and missing a page, you can really go crazy with your answer here. okay thanks for reading this massive chunk of text and good day everyone!

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @shipnotised!

Read on AO3

*****

My Telltale Heart

“Wow. You look like crap.”

Alec did indeed look like crap, and he knew that; 11am was too early to start a Saturday shift in general, let alone when he’d been up until 4am writing feverishly. He still gave Duncan an incredibly unimpressed glare, though.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t do my make-up on lunch break, but I was too busy trying not to throw myself out of the window,” he said, voice as flat as his patience was thin. He ignored Lindsay in the corner, proclaiming that a “mood”.

“Well if you need make-up tips, you can always ask Magnus,” he snickered.

“Stop being a dick to him,” Lindsay said from the depths of her locker.

“Who the fuck is Magnus?” Alec asked.

“One of the new temps lol,” Duncan answered, literally saying “lol” with his mouth and

annoying Alec even more – which he didn’t think possible. “Linds thinks he’s handsome.”

“He IS handsome.”

Duncan snorted. “And obviously gay. He wears makeup. Everyone knows him already Alec, I can’t believe you don’t.”

Alec had already shut his locker – a little too forcefully after Duncan’s comment – and had started making his way out of the room, but turned to address him anyway.

“Like Lindsay said, quit being a dick.” She nodded sagely in the background, validated. “He probably looks better in makeup than you do without. Besides, I never usually learn people’s names unless they’re obviously going to stay and be important to me. But maybe I’ll make an effort for this Magnus – what do you think, Dennis?” He smirked and shrugged lightly before leaving the room and getting back to work. He distinctly heard Lindsay’s laughter behind him.

It was a Saturday though, and he was entirely too busy to give this mysterious Magnus much thought in amongst mentally ranting at every asshole who thought it was okay to leave half empty coffee cups all over his shop. He ran the whole mens floor more often than not, which was fine, he could handle that. What wasn’t fine was the absolute clowns he had been saddled with that day. Surely, it wasn’t that hard to read a label and work out where, roughly, an item belonged? It was fortunate that all the tills were staffed so he wasn’t needed there. He fucking hated the tills.

Obviously, the two new kids with him that day just had to leave dead on time, leaving him to effectively close up the entire floor on his own. By the time 10pm rolled around, he was cursing under his breath. Was it so hard for people to put things back where they’d gotten them from?

“As wonderfully colourful as you’re painting the air, can I offer any assistance?” came a voice from behind him, making Alec realise that his muttering hadn’t been quite as under his breath as he’d thought. He turned, either to justify himself or apologise – he hadn’t quite decided – but the words caught in his throat once he’d saw the owner of the voice. It was quite a voice, and this man was quite the owner. He made the simple all black uniform requirement look haute couture, with a brocade waistcoat over the plain button up shirt, and rings that looked far nicer than anything on display in the jewellery counter on the floor below.

“I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,” said the beautiful man, offering a hand out to Alec. “I’m Magnus.”

“Alec,” he offered as freely as his smile. He fumbled with the multipack of socks he was still holding before taking Magnus’s hand, holding it perhaps a little longer than strictly necessary. It didn’t seem like Magnus minded.

“We should- are you sure? It’s late,” Alec stumbled out eventually.

“I’m positive. If it’s late for me, then it’s late for you too, Alec.”

“Thank you,” he conceded. “It’s just the rest of this-“ he gestured vaguely to the area around him – “to do.”

There was truthfully only about another half hours work in it for him, but with Magnus assisting him in comfortable silence, they were done in under fifteen. Alec took a moment to slyly check whether he’d have to stay a little longer just to make sure the sections he hadn’t done himself were acceptable – Magnus was new, and Alec had high standards – but it was with relief that Alec noted Magnus clearly knew what he was doing.

“Do you have to get someone to check before we leave?” Magnus asked.

“Normally, yeah, but they trust me to get it right. Thank you, Magnus, I really appreciate it,” Alec said, with a sincerity his colleagues rarely got to hear.

“Well, you definitely don’t look a damsel, but I can’t resist aiding someone in distress,” Magnus said succinctly, with a twinkle in his eye that intrigued Alec. He didn’t make friends that easily, but there was something about Magnus that he really couldn’t quantify. He felt like they could be very good friends, and he found that, unlike himself, he wasn’t averse to trying.

“I’m this way,” Alec indicated, once they’d signed out and left the store. The early November air was biting at this time of night, his ears an unfortunate victim.

“Ah, I’m the opposite. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“No, I got lucky and get Sundays off. Monday?”

Magnus grimaced. “I’m a student, I can only work weekends unfortunately. I guess I’ll see you next week then, Alexander.”

The use of his full name startled him, though not as much as the realisation that he didn’t mind it when it came from Magnus. “Yeah, Um, how did you-“

“Lucky guess,” Magnus smiled. “Do you mind it?”

“I think I’ll let you call me that,” Alec smiled back. “Good night, Magnus.”

“Good night, Alexander.”

And so it was that they spent every Saturday lunch break together. Alec was always scheduled for the long shift, and while Magnus’s shifts only ever started as soon as Alec’s breaks would finish, he was always around an hour early. Alec asked him about it, and Magnus shrugged.

“My lunch options are more varied around here,” he said.

Alec asked Magnus a lot of things, and answered just as many. He took Magnus to Taki’s, a little nearby diner that did amazing spanakopita and other Greek pastries. Thalia, the old lady running the place, had long taken a shine to Alec and insisted on giving him free treats – he accepted, purely on the basis that he’d sneak a good tip in when she wasn’t looking. She knew, and he knew she knew, but they didn’t speak about it. What was important was that she took a great liking to Magnus too, especially when he spoke to her in broken Greek.

“You speak Greek?” he asked, on their first visit there.

“Only a little,” Magnus conceded. “I speak a few other languages somewhat fluently, and figured since I’m good at them, I may as well learn them.”

It turned out that Magnus knew Spanish, French, and Italian (“once you’ve got one romance language down you’ve basically got the others”), a little Greek, a little Dutch, and was fluent in Indonesian. Alec found out that Magnus was actually from Indonesia, though moved as a young teen to America to live with his father. He eventually moved to New York when he refused to join the “family business” – whatever that was, Magnus never specified – and was a grad student studying particle physics now.

Alec, in turn, told Magnus about his family, about sharing an apartment with his siblings and he and Jace working so Izzy could focus on med school. He told Magnus about his mother and Max, trying to help how they could even though they were left with very little after Robert left them. He even told Magnus about Robert, about him being that cold kind of homophobic that tolerated him, but did not accept him.

They spent one memorable Saturday at the very start of December discussing books. Alec didn’t usually allow himself to get carried away in conversation, sweeping hand gestures punctuating his words, but he was talking about something he loved and – well. He trusted Magnus enough to be himself with him, to live a little more freely – similar, but even more so, to how he was with Izzy and Jace.

“I just- stories are such an inherently human art, you know? The best stories echo through time in their original forms simply because humans don’t change all that much, despite era or culture. That’s the goal,” he rambled. Magnus frowned a little, head tilting, and Alec thought that it might have been the cutest thing he’d ever seen a person do – and Max was a cute child.

“Do you write, Alexander?” he asked. Alec froze.

“I-“ he licked his lips, and leaned in. Magnus did the same, and Alec lowered his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but… yeah. I do. Not even Jace and Izzy know. I don’t know why I don’t tell them, it’s not like I’ll ever get published, but…”

“It’s nice to have something for yourself,” Magnus finished.

“Yeah,” Alec smiled. “You read my mind. Maybe one day, I’ll put it out there, but for now,” he simply shrugged.

“If you ever decide to put your writing out there, I’ll be first in line. Knowing you, I have no doubt it’ll be incredible.”

The sheer belief that Magnus had in him, the trust after only four weeks, broke something down in Alec that he had no idea he’d even built. Suddenly, he wanted Magnus to know him like no one else – or maybe, it wasn’t sudden at all.

He leant down, rummaging around in the small bag he brought with him and pulling out his tattered cheap notebook, flicking it to the most recent page. He carried it with him to work, favoured green pen tucked into the spiral binding, in case inspiration struck him while commuting or on break (he would always leave the store on lunch, even Before Magnus – and wasn’t it something, that Alec was separating his life into Before Magnus and After Magnus?). Alec mostly wrote fiction, short stories, poured out his frustrations and lived his wildest dreams in them, and yet, on that morning’s train, he’d found himself hit with a three-quarter formed idea and rushed to scribble it down.

It was a sonnet, structured like Shakespeare’s ones, and its underlying tone was… hopeful. New beginnings, new bonds, change that was welcome. He consciously made another change now, in sliding the notebook over to Magnus.

“This came to me on the train this morning, so uh – I don’t know if it’s any good. But I trust you to be honest with me if it sucks,” he laughed nervously, hands starting to rub themselves nervously without a conscious thought.

Magnus was silent as he read, and though he read quickly, it seemed to Alec like a whole hour passed, rather than a minute. He watched Magnus read, watched his eyes widen, until Magnus looked up at him with a look on his face of… awe?

“Alexander,” he said, voice hushed. “This is incredible.”

“You… think so?” he replied, blush beginning to rise. Magnus nodded.

“You have a real skill for words, darling. None of the languages I speak could be as beautiful as your own.”

Alec smiled, a soft shy thing, as he gently took the notebook back from Magnus and closed it. He felt impossibly light, a burden he hadn’t realised was weighing on him as much as it had relieved.

“We have to go back now, but – it’d be nice to talk about writing with someone. Can I text it to you, sometime?”

“Absolutely,” grinned Magnus, exchanging numbers with Alec as they walked back to work.

Alec realised, two Sundays after he’d first gotten Magnus’s number, that he had no idea if Magnus was coming to that night’s work Christmas party. He certainly had never made his intentions of going clear, and now Magnus was already at work, so he couldn’t just ask.

Parties weren’t often Alec’s thing, but he did enjoy them now and then, and it wasn’t as if he hated his colleagues or anything. He just felt… out of place. To be perfectly honest, he felt that way most of the time, except around his family, while writing, or with Magnus.

Perhaps it should scare him, that Magnus felt a little like belonging. It didn’t.

He dressed reasonably appropriately for the night, tan wool overcoat and beanie part of his outfit, not just accessories, and charcoal shirt with the top few buttons undone despite the cold. He’d been something of a boring dresser once, before he’d come out, all large sweaters and baggy jeans – but now, while fashion still didn’t speak to him as such, he knew what he liked and how to dress and wore sharp, clean, well-fitting clothes. It wasn’t even a conscious decision, really, but the internet always said you dressed better after coming out and he supposed that had happened to him as well.

He wasn’t out out, but he wasn’t hiding anything either. It was no one’s prerogative to know everything about him unless he wanted them to.

Ten to eight, Alec found himself sat with a bunch of his colleagues waiting for those who had just finished work to join them. Magnus wasn’t already there, and he hoped that he would be showing up with the others, else Alec would probably just head home after the meal and text Magnus all night instead.

That was what they usually did, anyway.

He needn’t have considered alternate plans, though – as Magnus strolled in with the latecomers looking like an untouchable god.

He’d shaved, for a start, and put dark pink highlights in his hair – he’d not had them yesterday at lunch – and he wore a stunning crushed red velvet blazer. Red was certainly Magnus’s colour, Alec thought. He didn’t think about the fact that he noticed how tight Magnus’s pants were, or the fact that Alec couldn’t take his eyes off his friend.

Magnus seemed to be looking for something, and Alec began to stand to greet him, which led Magnus to look his way. He smiled at the sight of Alec, and Alec smiled back, heart leaping, as Magnus made his way over.

“Got you a drink,” Alec said, indicating the two on the table in front of him.

“After that day, I certainly need one. Thank you, Alexander,” said Magnus, resting his hand on Alec’s shoulder as he leant to pick up the drink. “Dark and Stormy?” Alec shrugged.

“It sounded nice, so I thought I’d try it.”

“Good choice, darling. Shall we go be seated?”

They managed to sit next to each other throughout the whole meal, and while Magnus entertained those in the vicinity – like a king holding court, Alec thought, all his subjects enthralled and enamoured – most of their attention was on them alone.

The food was decent, surprisingly good for the place they were in, and the free drinks meant the empty glasses began accumulating steadily. The air buzzed with merriment, and even Alec was laughing freely.

“Hey, everyone’s heading down to Pandemonium now,” Magnus whispered into Alec’s ear.

“Mmm? Are you going with?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to stop by a store, get some cheap wine, and come back to mine.”

Alec grinned. He wanted nothing more.

Magnus’s place was huge. A penthouse full of oddities and books and incredible art, for a grad student? Even Tipsy Alec was confused by it all, and Tipsy Alec was so much more of a dumbass than Sober Alec. As Magnus closed the door behind them, coming forward to take the bag from Alec’s hands, he noticed the expression on Alec’s face and seemed to read his mind.

“This place is the one gift I accepted from my father. I had… a sizeable trust fund, all legally in my name, nothing he could do about it, and I used it to buy this place after I’d left. I didn’t want to touch his money, but he never wanted me to come here, so - it seemed like a perfectly good ‘fuck you’.”

“It’s a pretty good fuck you, as fuck yous go. You know, I’m surprised you don’t like parties,” Alec said.

Magnus waved his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, I love parties. I’d just much rather hang out with you.”

And fuck, if that weren’t something right there.

Magnus and Alec found themselves sharing just one bottle of wine, far too busy talking to drink, simply enjoying each other’s company when not talking, enough that alcohol simply wasn’t necessary. As a fire crackled in the grate in front of the seating area, Magnus showed Alec his books, told wild travel stories for each trinket, regaled Alec with stories that while they could be those he told when winning friends and captivating hearts, Alec just knew that these were for him and him alone. Magnus had just told a story from his youth where he pretended to be his own father to get out of detention, and that it had somehow worked despite it being a face-to-face conversation, and Alec couldn’t stop giggling, which seemed to set Magnus off laughing too.

“Gods, I was such a little brat when I was with him. Still would be, probably, had I not met Cat and Ragnor and left.”

“Was it hard to leave? With your dad doing… whatever it is he does.”

Magnus’s eyes narrowed quizzically, but warmly. “My father owns a pharmaceutical company that jacks up the prices of literally everything. What did you think he might do, Alexander?”

“Honestly, thought he might be a mob boss, but that’d probably be better,” Alec said. “I see why you want to distance yourself from him.”

“Mmm. You’re one of three people who know about him, here.”

“I’m- Cat, Ragnor, and… me?” Magnus nodded at Alec’s incredulous tone.

“I trust you,” he said, warm brown eyes unwavering from Alec’s own.

“Thank you. For what it’s worth, and this may be selfish, but I’m kinda glad it led you here.”

“Yeah?” asked Magnus, twisting his body round so that he was sat cross legged on the couch, back resting against the arm and facing Alec, who was sprawled out so that his torso lay on the couch, head on the arm rest, and longs legs bent resting on the floor. “Be selfish for a second for me. Why?”

“If you hadn’t realised what a jerk he was, you wouldn’t be in New York. And if you hadn’t cut yourself off… you wouldn’t have needed a job to support you. And I wouldn’t have met you. I’m sorry, if that’s rude, but… I’m really glad I met you,” Alec steamrollered, knowing that if he didn’t get it out now he might never do it again out of stubbornness.

“I’m really glad I met you too, Alexander. Makes being yelled at for not returning things from last year worth it.” Magnus laughed softly then, and so did Alec, a shared experience joining them. Magnus heaved a sigh then, and Alec furrowed his brow.

“Alexander… how drunk would you say you are? I’m completely sober, unfortunately.”

Alec took a second to ponder it, but he needn’t have – they’d been sat there for a few hours, and were only halfway through their shared bottle of wine. The only thing he was intoxicated by was Magnus’s presence, the warmth radiating from him that had little to do with actual temperature and everything to do with the comfort and serenity that Magnus brought him.

“If it makes you feel better about it, I’m completely sober too,” Alec said. “But that’s okay. Being here at 2am is way more fun than any club could be.”

“Good, I’m glad you – that’s good. Alexander, tell me if this is too forward, but…” Magnus trailed off, eyes closed and breathing deeply, as if to steady himself.

“But what?”

Magnus shook his head, and swallowed, before he leant down and forward and pressed his lips to Alec’s.

It was relatively chaste, all things considered, but Alec felt his world turn on its head. Magnus tasted of wine, and chocolate, and home, and Alec closed his eyes and let himself feel. His lips were soft, and as Alec chased them, it hit him that he was halfway to falling in love with the man, and he hadn’t even noticed that that was what it was.

They separated, yet Magnus didn’t go far; Alec opened his eyes to see Magnus still hovering a few inches over him, his own eyes gazing into Alec’s own. Alec’s lips quirked into a smile.

“That was-“

“Yeah,” Magnus breathed out, and returned Alec’s soft, shy smile with one of his own, to which Alec, surprising himself with his boldness, rose up and kissed again.

The difference this time, as they sat up together, was that they could barely stop smiling to really kiss, but neither cared. Their laughter mingled between them in the firelit room, Alec’s admission that he’d never been kissed before at 24 simply encouraging Magnus to kiss him more, barely noticing when the embers started to settle, tangled up in each other on the couch with this new thing between them, that had somehow always been present.

“Stay the night, Alexander? It’s late, we don’t have to do anything, just… stay?”

“Magnus, there’s- there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

No one commented on the spring in Alec’s step the next morning, and he was grateful; he didn’t exactly want to tell them he’d been woken up with a kiss from a man who made his heart sing, after falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. That was his alone to rejoice in.

The next two weeks were much the same as their last five; a whirlwind of texts and soft smiles when their eyes met at work, among the many “no, we’re all sold out of those now” to people who left their Christmas shopping until a week before the date and were surprised everything had gone – like it didn’t happen every year. The only difference was that now they held hands over the table at Taki’s as they spoke, Thalia beaming at them whenever they stole kisses while sharing pastries. They didn’t notice that, though.

They spoke more about dating, than before; previously, Alec had always carried a small burden of shame that he’d never been in a relationship, but Magnus, with all his experience in good and bad relationships, never treated it as a set back in any way. He had a knack for making Alec feel comfortable in his own skin.

“I’m covering a shift tomorrow, by the way,” Alec said, after a few minutes of silent contemplation. Magnus quirked an eyebrow.

“My last day,” he said. “Can’t say I’m sad, but the place did bring me you, so…”

Alec snorted. “Run while you still can. I’ll just miss seeing you at lunch every Saturday.”

“Well, I still have Saturdays free. I see no reason why I can’t still meet you every so often – it might do me good to get out of the house and work on my paper.”

“Yeah?” Alec grinned, indescribably happy. Neither of them had defined what was between them yet, and that was okay; it was like they were still the best of friends, with the added bonus of kissing, and yet Alec was still surprised that Magnus, beautiful, kind, intelligent Magnus, wanted to spend time with him, read his writing and told him it was masterful, urged Alec to be a better version of himself simply by being there.

“Yeah,” Magnus grinned back. “Also we should go back.” He laughed at Alec’s groan.

“Ah ah ah!” they heard Thalia shout as they left the café. Alec turned, curious; it’s not as if they’d forgotten to pay – had they left anything? “Look above, just for you two loves,” she yelled happily.

Magnus chuckled. “Mistletoe, Alexander. Shall we?”

Alec laughed, and leant in, and made a note to ring Thalia later and leave his number, so she could send him the photo she very obviously took.

Sunday was like every Sunday, but times ten; he’d agreed to cover someone in the ladies department for a change of pace, and was kinda wishing he hadn’t. He had, at least, made plans with Magnus to get dinner and spend the night, which powered him through the chaotic day.

Before they could escape however, Jia, the store manager, gathered everyone around the doors. Alec groaned inwardly. He’d forgotten that she did this every year, giving them all a speech about how high the quality of seasonal staff was, and how it being the 23rd it was most of their last days anyway, and blah blah blah. Alec mostly tuned it out in favour of his favourite activity – looking at Magnus.

“Gonna miss your lunch date, Lightwood?” Duncan called out once Jia had apparently finished, laughing, though nobody laughed with him. Alec smiled, knowing exactly what he had to, and wanted to, do. He lifted his arm to embrace Magnus shoulders as he moved to his side, not needing words to know what Alec planned, arm snaking around Alec’s waist and hand settling comfortably on his hip.

“Well, now we’re no longer co-workers – I guess Magnus’ll just have to settle for being my boyfriend instead, huh?” Alec raised an eyebrow, daring Duncan to say anything. By the look of his reddening face, he had nothing, suitably ashamed by the smiles on every other associates faces – even Jia cracked a smile, and Alec thought he heard Simon whooping as Magnus pulled his face in for a quick, yet tender, kiss.

“We’ll just have to go on more actual dates, I suppose… boyfriend,” Magnus said to him as they left, Magnus for the last time as a staff member.

They’d agreed not to get each other gifts, Alec thought; and had ended up giving each other the best gift they could possibly have gotten. Alec had a boyfriend for Christmas for the first time ever, and as he held him close, Alec resolved that he’d never let him go.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Oops, this is longer than I intended...

The tree branches snarled and gnashed as a sharp breeze cut through the night. The wind gutted cashes of leaves in varying states of decay, tossing them up into dust devils. It was as if the wind triumphed in its ability to trespass where it wasn’t wanted. A stretch of bare, clawing branches outlined a road like a gaping rib cage. Between them, a beast stalked the road. It dragged a lifeless body with short, violent tugs, leaving a stark trail of blood gleaming in the moonlight like a single, corrugated artery. It walked like a man, moved like a predator. Silver streaks of moonlight flashed through the leaves, revealing that the beast was dressed like a vagrant, covered in tattered brown, grey and black rags. A ragged hood hid wisps of white hair that obscured a set of menacing red eyes. The moonlight cast a long, ominous shadow that stretched off into the distance, making the creature’s form appear bigger than it was. The beast moved with purpose, walking to a massive, ornate, pillared structure barred by massive gates. With a touch, the gates swung open, and the doorway allowed him entrance. The sadistic grin that peeked out from the beast’s hood was complemented by a gruel glint in his eyes. The traveller bared a set of perfect, pointed, ivory teeth, hinting at insanity. – Chapter 1; In which Death awaits, and a plot is hatched. Did the above introduction catch your interest? I sincerely hope so. I also hope that, from there, your eyes continue on, trifling through this post, absorbing the information I offer and nurturing a growing interest that will lead you to my door. Writing is not just a pass-time. It’s an adventure, an extravagant and deeply fulfilling world created for our very own enjoyment - this is the reason I am now here in search of partners. Optimistically thinking, I have not scared too many of you away with my mutterings and lavish vocabulary - I apologise, I’m a Law Student, we speak as such to confuse you! Moving matters on, online I go by Nefarious, or Nefi (or, if you are feeling particularly confident, any variation of such). As previously noted, I am a student, and a part-time worker, thus while I definitely have time to spare, it may not be as much as some people on these forums. If you’re looking for multiple posts a day, I’m likely not your girl.  18+, I’m both comfortable and confident with mature themes (ranging from smut to touchy subjects of abuse and psychological difficulties). Post-wise, they’re mostly going to be on the longer side, but you can always expect a minimum of 3 decently sized paragraphs - length generally tends to sit on two main factors; time, and inspiration. If I’m short for time, the post is going to be shorter, as I’d much prefer to send off a smaller but interesting post than leave my partner waiting and bored. On the other hand, some days inspiration is hard to find, or perhaps we reach a slow point in the RP and there’s not much to say - thereby, once again, post lengths will differ. As previously commented upon, I have a fairly busy schedule, and thus posting times vary. A general rule to live by when in contact with me would be - the longer the posts I’m able to produce, the less I’ll be able to send them. I will always attempt to reply at least once a day - and will more likely be able to produce up to 2 a day - but I will always let you know if I am going to be unavailable. Sometimes in a roleplay, however, moments for rapid-fire posts - such as in scenes of long dialogue between the two primary characters, or more intimate/fast-paced scenes - will occur, and in those situations, you can expect shorter but quicker responses to support the situation. Have I rambled enough? If I’ve missed any important details, which I no doubt have, feel free to merely ask. I like to think I’m a happy and open person, so don’t worry about overstepping that ‘invisible’ boundary (if it ever did come to that, I would let you know kindly, no grudges held). Now, the information you’ve all been waiting for! What I’m interested in: Unfortunately, I’m going to be that annoying person that says ‘I’m open to pretty much anything’. It is true, however. There are certain things that do not interest me at all, as few as they are, while there also things that I crave more than others. When you contact me, I’m going to be much more friendly and interested if you come with an idea in mind, either a fully/partly formed plotline, a specific pairing or a general fandom, and are equally happy to discuss the aspects with me. While I’m more than happy to develop a plot-line almost single handedly, we need a starting point - something you should have considered before contacting me, preferably. Absolutely not (These are subjects that offer me no interest, and thus are non-negotiable).

-> Slice of Life; this subject, on its own, is boring. Why would I want to write about day-to-day, normal lives that I experience on my own? The answer - I don’t. When slice of life occurs in the middle of a roleplay, i.e. the home life of the detective’s we’re playing, or the family problems that occur as a result of our characters actions, so on and so forth, that’s fine. It’s an addition. But if you ask for a roommate, college life style roleplay (common example), I’m going to turn you down non-too-harshly.

-> Smut-Centric; I’m not here to write porn, it’s as simple as that. Smut with the development of the story, of the relationships is more than acceptable, even preferable as it adds a new dynamic. Smut on its own, however, known as Porn-Without-Plot, is not something I will be participating in.

-> Jane/John-Doe; A character becomes a character when you are introduced to their experiences, their good side and their bad. If you’re writing a character that has done no wrong, the interaction are going to become very bland, very quickly. A troubled character is an interesting character, in my mind. (Also note that overpowered characters are not part of this section - as long as a discussion is made, and preparations are introduced to keep things interesting, OP characters are not out of the question, but make sure to ask if this is what you’re interested in).

Original Plotlines (If there is something you’re interested in that’s not listed here, ask. I’m not going to list every possible scenario). Each “ * ” present amount to the level of interest displayed towards each suggestion.

-> Fantasy ** -> Sci-Fi ** -> Medieval -> Modern -> Dystopia / Utopia * -> Apocalyptic -> Steam / Cyberpunk ** -> Supernatural *** -> Mythological *** -> M/M **** -> M/F *** -> F/F **** -> Horror ** -> Blackmail / Torture / Psychological Horror *** -> Mental Illness / Abuse *** -> Darkerside / Side effects of Powers *****

Fandom Plotlines (Again, if you do not see your fandom here, let me know. Even if I’m not familiar, often I will make the effort so we can explore the idea). I am more interested in OC/OC pairings here, but am both open to OC/Canon and Canon/Canon in certain situations - ask. Movies/TV; -> MCU *** -> Avengers ** -> X-Men *** -> DCU *** -> Legion **** -> American Horror Story ** -> Harry Potter ***** -> Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them **** -> IT *** -> Sherlock ** -> Doctor Who *** -> Supernatural ** -> Heroes *** -> Lost Girl *** -> Criminal Minds ***

Books; -> Dark Hunter *** -> Vampire Academy ** -> Red Queen Series ***

Games; -> Persona 5 ***** -> Dragon Age ***** -> Borderlands ** -> Bioshock ** -> Assassins Creed Odyssey ** -> Vampyr **

Disclaimer: As you can see, I am very much craving Harry Potter, Dragon Age or Persona 5 based Roleplays. If any of these interest you, you will be given my full interest!

Since I’ve likely taken up a good chunk of your time, I’m going to end it here and leave you my contact details. I prefer to roleplay over Email, Google Docs or Discord (in that order). A combination of them is also great (considering Discord is the easiest form of contact while Email/Google Docs have no word limits).

Email: NefariousWriter@gmail.com

Discord: Nefarious#1494

When you message me, please introduce yourself! A single “hi” is not going to fill me with much confidence, nor is “I want to RP with you”.