#i wrote a blurb but also added this to my notes to maybe write as a full fic if i can construct a plot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

incognit0slut · 10 months ago

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Pretty when you sleep

As newlyweds, Spencer couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Even when you were asleep.

warnings: (MINORS DNI!) fem reader, consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, very minimum plot yet very heavy smut. words: around 2k

a/n: In another episode of me getting inspired by a clip that I turned into a gif and wrote something out of it🥴 if you want to read my other attempts at writing a blurb based on gifs, find the hashtag #gifwriting on my page. Also, I can't believe this is my first fic of him as a husband.

YOU WERE TOO PRETTY TO RESIST. You just looked so goddamn tempting while laying on your stomach like that. It didn’t help when the strap of your nightgown fell from your shoulder, uncovering the swell of your breast.

You were so breathtakingly beautiful. So soft. So irresistible.

Spencer always made sure he had your consent every time he touched you. He grew to understand what you liked and didn't like when it came to sex, and sure, maybe thinking of brushing his fingers along your skin while you were unconscious wasn't the best idea. But he couldn't help it. You were just too inviting to resist, so he placed a hand on your hip.

You stirred at the sudden contact he initiated and unconsciously readjust into a more comfortable position, your toes curling before relaxing once more. When you finally stopped squirming around, he reached out again, letting his rough fingers travel up your exposed leg. He started at your knee before going further up between the apex of your plush thighs, where that sweet little cunt of yours was waiting for him.

You were still asleep, even as he started to carefully stroke you, dragging a single knuckle up and down against your thin panties and suppressed a groan as he felt the heat radiating from underneath the material. Your breathing pattern began to change as he continued with his teasing. By the time he circled your clit and added the slightest amount of pressure on it, you started to pant and push your ass higher into the air in response.

He smiled. You wanted this.

Of course, you did. The way your body reacted to his touch spoke for itself. You were already getting so wet that your panties were turning damp and sticky with arousal. He continued to massage your clit through the thin cotton, and he watched in awe as your breath hitched in your throat, almost as though you could feel his actions even when you were unconscious.

Spencer kept his eyes trained on your body as he moved to dip your panties down your legs, carefully lifting your body up just enough to slide them down your curves, allowing them to sit around one of your ankles. Then he carefully slipped off his own clothes, trying to keep as quiet as possible, before his palms splayed against your body to move you onto your back.

“So pretty," he mumbled under his breath as he took note of your loose nightgown and the way it had risen up, exposing more of your skin to his prying eyes. He moved over the mattress slowly, making sure you were still fast asleep, and slipped between your now parted legs.

God, how had he become so lucky? Having you reciprocate his feelings was already a surprise when he confessed, but it surpassed his expectations when you agreed to be his girlfriend. Ten months of pure bliss was what he felt throughout your relationship, and when he noticed some of your clutter in his apartment, he wanted to see it every time he came home.

And now, miraculously, you were his wife. The word carried a weight of joy and wonder that he couldn't quite fathom. Every morning waking up to your shared life, and every night falling asleep next to you, felt like a dream too good to be true.

Granted, you've shared intimate nights so much that he should've gotten used to your body by now. Yet, every touch felt as electrifying and exhilarating as the first time and he found himself still captivated by the warmth of your presence. Even now as he fisted his cock, giving himself a teasing tug as he ran his thumb against the tip, his eyes raking your exposed body.

The way your legs parted for him, showing off your wetness and how already swollen you were even when he was barely touching you. His gaze swept over your exposed breast that slipped out of your nightgown and he brushed a thumb against one of your stiff peaks, feeling the way you trembled beneath him.

The way you shuddered made him jerk his hips against yours erratically, pushing his cock against your mound. Your body reacted to his touch, even in slumber, as your hips arched off the bed. His breath hitched when he rutted his hips forward. The sight of his cock against your abdomen showed him just how deep he would be inside you.

He then eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen tip through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way your pussy spread for him, as though inviting him inside. Your arousal coated his swollen head as he focused his attention on your clit, pressing down on it with his cock as he listened to the increased pace of your breathing.

He moved his cock back up as he let the underside split your folds open, resting his girth between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. You were so fucking pretty it was unreal.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, holding onto the base of his cock as he started to drag the tip through your wetness again, grunting softly as it caught against your tight entrance. “Look at you swallowing me.”

Spencer exercised restraint as he gave soft, subtle thrusts into your aching cunt. His gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart as he continued pushing himself forward, feeling your body begin to resist his entrance as he tried to change the angle.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he whispered. His chest rumbled with a groan as he felt you clenching around his thickness, causing his eyes to snap up to your face in surprise, thinking that he’d wake you up. But you were still very much asleep. "I can't resist you."

He let out a sigh as he managed to thrust his hips further. He paused for a second to cherish the feeling of his cock being completely buried deep inside you, running his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel himself inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he throbbed at the sensation.

He held your hips and slowly dragged his thick cock from your cunt, leaving the tip to keep you stretched out before plunging back inside. The restraint he once had now long gone with the way your body hungrily sucked him. His pace increased as he leaned forward, hovering his body over yours with his hands splayed on either side of your head. He sucked in a breath at the way your body adjusted to him, clenching around his cock as he kept rutting his hips.

And then you suddenly stirred. You moved slightly, your chin tilting upward, and your lips parting to release a breath. Your eyes slowly flutter open from your slumber as you feel the warmth of his body, the subtle shift of his weight, and the aching sensation between your thighs.

"What..." Your voice cracked as you turned to see him, only to let out a low groan at him thrusting a bit harder against you.

"Shh, it's just me," he whispered. The haze of your sleep lifted, and your gaze met him at the same time he leaned down, pressing his lips onto yours.

He captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip as your hands pressed to his chest, feeling his flushed, hot body against your own. You let him devour you while his hips increased in speed, rolling against yours as whimpers began to spill from your lips. Your thighs instinctively tightened around him, curses spilling beneath a heavy breath as the bliss filled your body.

"Spence..." you whimpered. You were breathless, eyes screwed shut, legs now parting even further to give him better access. Throughout the time you were in a relationship with him, you never imagined being woken up like this, but you weren't complaining. Not when you could feel his cock stretching you so deliciously.

Spencer was often embarrassed when it came to dirty talk, but once he realized how much you relished those whispered, filthy words, it became a personal mission to keep you thoroughly satisfied. Knowing how much you loved hearing those filthy words became a secret thrill for him, which was why when he leaned closer to whisper in your ear, you became a whining mess.

“You're always so tight,” he began, his voice deep and raspy, right in your ear before he nipped at the lobe, sending a gasp spilling for your lips as you reached for him in an overwhelming burst of arousal. “Look at you taking me so well. It's like your pussy is made for me.”

A rush of burning heat filled your body, his words affecting you with heat spreading from between your thighs to reach even your toes and fingertips. He buried himself between your neck while thrusting inside of you with rising desperation, pushing himself further, his body rolling against yours.

“Faster,” you begged him in a breathless whimper, all before your teeth sank into your lip, brow wrinkling, moans filling in your chest. It only took him a second to comply. The thrusts of his hips created a loud smack as drove his cock deeper inside of you. You couldn’t help but cry out, overwhelmed by the pleasure, squeezing yourself so tight around him that he let out a grunt.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned in your ear, having the proximately to tell you the dirty, nasty things on his mind. His lips brushed over your neck as he increased his pace. “I love fucking you like this.”

“Please… don’t stop—” You gulped with a brief pause. “Feels so... so good.”

He shook his head against your shoulder.

"I'm not stopping," he continued to whisper in his gruff voice, earning goosebumps on your quivering body. “I love feeling you this close.” He pressed an open kiss on your skin. "I love making you desperate."

“Fuck,” you cried out, body weakening with his every word. The sounds of him pumping into your slick, wet arousal became louder the quicker he thrust into you. “I-I’m getting c-close."

You continued to warble out broken sentences, trying to form any coherent thoughts but all you felt was the searing pleasure that flowed through you. The lewd sounds continued to fill the room as your essence dribbled down your ass and onto the bed, staining the sheets. "I-I'm gonna—"

“Come for me,” he encouraged, lips pressing to your skin between words. “Go on, come on my cock.” The choice words sent a shiver down your spine as the heat bubbled between your thighs.

“I'm coming,” you cried out, voice straining and struggling to speak from him leaving you so breathless. Your body tensed as the pleasure swelled through your body and his final confession toppled you right over the edge.

“I love this so much,” he groaned between you gasping as the first wave of pleasure surged through you, “I love you.”

You finally let go, toes curling in ecstasy as you arched your back, legs growing further apart. Your head spins from the warmth filling every inch of you as he fucked you through your orgasm. You gasped his name, overwhelmed with the bliss he offered, the emotions that drove you at his words. You wanted to say them back, but you couldn't even think properly as the wave of pleasure washed over you.

He continued to thrust, eyes closed, brow creased, lips parted, huffing and groaning and holding you tighter until he reached his own peak. The moment a heavy exhale left his lips, his hips slowed and his cock twitched, signaling the pleasure filling him as he released inside of you. You moaned at the sensation before he eased himself and collapsed on the bed, bringing you along with him as you settled on top of his body.

The two of you lingered in the aftermath of passion for a few seconds too long—breathless, hot, sweaty, and tired. When you lifted your head to look at him, you noticed the softness in his eyes, your heart fluttering at the sight.

"Well, good morning to you, Dr. Reid," you teased.

He laughed, his hands absentmindedly stroking your back. There was a warmth in his gaze, filled with affection as you continued to stare at him. "Good morning, Mrs. Reid."

You couldn't help but smile at the endearment as you placed your head on his chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, you let his warmth envelop you, singking further into the arms of your husband.

a/n: If you have a specific clip you want me to be inspired by, come and drop me a message. But please be specific so I would know which scene you're talking about.

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redgoldsparks · 1 year ago

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I've never won National Novel Writing Month, but I am participating for my 7th time (not consecutively) this year. In the past I've always enjoyed receiving the Pep Talks from published authors, which are essentially like letters of encouragement to all of the writers trying to pour out the first draft of a novel in a month. A few of the ones I read, especially in my first year of doing NaNo, really stuck with me so I was very delighted to be asked to contribute one this year. You can read my Pep Talk here on the NaNo site but I will also post the full text below the cut. And to anyone doing NaNo this year-- good luck and keep writing!

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

I wanted to be a writer long before I knew I had anything to say.

I had a childhood immersed in stories. My parents took me to the local library every week, where I checked out stacks of fantasy novels. I would pick up any book with a dragon, elf, sword, castle, wizard, or spaceship on the cover and my heroes were the authors and illustrators of these magical worlds.

At some point I started to wonder about these writers. Who were they? What were their lives like? I began to pay more attention to author’s notes and was astonished to discover that many authors I loved mentioned each other in their acknowledgements. In The Ladies of Grace Adieu, Susanna Clarke thanked Neil Gaimen, Terri Windling, Ellen Datlow, and Charles Vess. In Stardust, Gaimen thanked Clarke in return, and also Diana Wynne Jones. Ursula K Le Guin and Robin Hobb wrote blurbs for Patrick Rothfuss’ Name of the Wind. In Finder, Emma Bull thanked Terri Windling, Steven Brust, and her husband, Will Shetterly. Tamora Pierce, George RR Martin, Peter S Beagle and Kelly Link all blurbed books by Ellen Kushner, who thanked more people than I have space to name.

Holy shit, I realized. All of these authors know each other! They’re friends! This was followed by a second thought: If I want to meet them, and especially if I want to be friends with them, maybe I should publish a fantasy novel myself.

That realization gave me a new goal, but no specific pointers on how to pursue it. I started out as many young authors do: I began writing long fantasy narratives with orphaned protagonists, extremely derivative of the fantasy I’d read as a teen. During multiple successive NaNoWriMos I chipped away at a YA novel about a boy and a dragon. I started drawing a webcomic about a thief who tried to rob a monastery only to be foiled by a witch with the same plan. These stories had characters, settings, and some plot but what they didn’t have was themes. They didn’t ask any questions about what it means to be human, and they didn’t touch on any of the big concerns I was wrestling with in my personal life: gender, sexuality, and identity.

It took the rather painful experience of a literary agent telling me my fantasy work was unpublishable before I set my early stories aside, stepped back, and changed the direction of my writing towards exploring the big, vulnerable themes I had been shying away from.

What I discovered is that instead of making writing harder, facing these themes head-on made writing easier. In my earlier work I had frequently hit writing blocks, places in my outlining process where I felt like I was wading through mud. When I didn’t know what I was trying to say on a meta level with my story it was often hard to decide what should happen next at the plot level. I would send my characters from location to location, but I’d be unsure of what they should do there, because I was unclear on how their actions added up to a larger picture. That feeling of being stuck and uncertain over what should come next fell away when I started focusing more clearly on expressing my bigger themes. Suddenly the path forward felt smooth. All it took to follow it was bravery and persistence.

I also achieved my initial goal in wanting to be a writer. I have now met and befriended many other authors, not the same set that I idolized as a teen, but different writers who are exploring many of the same themes and questions in their work as I do in mine. I have friends, colleagues, co-authors, and writing partners to thank in my acknowledgements– often more than I have space to name.

During this month, I know many of you are focused solely on pouring out the words. That is very important, but I recommend you take some time to think about the larger themes of your story as well. What message, hope, fear, question, or truth are you trying to communicate to the world through your writing? I promise that clearly articulating your themes will help you tell your story and find the friends and writers who will become your community.

Good luck, and know that I am writing alongside you, and rooting for you!

Maia Kobabe, Fall 2023

#maia kobabe #nanowrimo #nano 2023 #national novel writing month #writing

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cacodaemonia · 4 months ago

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You seem to know a lot about AO3, do you know how to engage more of your readers? I’ve been trying to get comments on my fics but all I get is kudos. I just want to know if people are enjoying my writing

Hi there! I definitely wouldn't say I'm an expert when it comes to AO3, but I find the fandom culture around AO3 to be really interesting, so I do talk about it a lot, haha. I've only been posting works there since 2019, though, and I'm sure folks who have been doing so for longer or have volunteered as tag wranglers or on the policy & abuse committee, for example, would know a lot more than I do. <3

But I'm really sorry to hear that you only get kudos and no comments on your fics! That really sucks. :( Like you said, you have no idea what those people actually think about what you made—just that they consumed it.

Honestly, I'm not sure I'm a good person to ask about getting readers to interact because I post both fanart and fanfics, which isn't super common, at least among people I know. I'm pretty sure that most of the folks who comment on my works followed me from Tumblr to AO3 back when I used to post art here. If I wanted to share nsfw images, I could only post cropped versions of them on Tumblr, so I would sometimes do that and link to the full image over on AO3. I suspect that's a big reason why I even have subscribers on AO3, haha. My writing certainly isn't better than that of plenty of people who also write for very niche ships and don't get as many kind comments as I do.

I also started out in my current fandom making art and writing about more popular characters until I quickly shifted focus when I found some that I like much more 😂 But I'm sure that quite a few people found my stuff because of those old works, and some of them probably stuck around.

Speaking of popular... This isn't something I do because I'm only motivated to make things that I like, but of course, there's always the 'write stuff for popular ships/characters' option. :/ Even now, when I happen to include fan favorites in my fics or art, all kinds of people come out of the woodwork to comment on them. And because I'm a contrary ass, that then makes me not want to create works featuring those ships or characters XD;;; But anyway, that is one option, haha.

A friend recently told me that they started asking little questions in the notes of each chapter of their fics, and that seemed to encourage readers to respond in the comments, so maybe that would be a good thing to try? I haven't tested it, so I can't say.

One thing I have tried that I think has made a difference is adding a blurb in the end notes of my works that I got from @longlivefeedback! They have a great template that you can customize and try out if you like (just make sure to read the bug fix part about curly/smart quotes versus straight quotes, since the curly quotes will kill your html).

One tried and true method to get more people commenting on your fics, of course, is to get to know people who also like the fandom/characters/ships you write about. Read some of their stuff or comment on their art or just chat about headcanons etc. And maybe they'll check out what you wrote.

(My caveat to this would be: do not do this with the sole purpose of getting someone to comment on your fics. I've had plenty of people do this to me, and it was so transparent that they had no interest in me as a person, but just wanted me to draw their OCs or scenes from their fic, or reblog their art, etc. Trying to manipulate someone like that just for your own gain is such gross behavior, and of course, I'm not saying you would do it, but it's common enough that I wanted to mention it 😓)

Okay, unsurprisingly, this got very long and rambling, haha. Sorry I couldn't be more helpful, but I hope you get more folks interested in your writing!

I'd be curious to know if other people have advice for @sonofhighrock! :)

#asks #ao3 #comments #commenting #ao3 comments #interaction #fandom #fandom etiquette #fandom is community not commodity #fan fiction #writing #long live feedback comment project #llf comment project #longlivefeedback #long post #because i'm a windbag

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jadelynlace · 3 years ago

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When You’re Unmatched Art / Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU Request [Ivar x F!Reader]

[you can find the reference for the tattoo Ivar did here. He thought he was being slick, but he most certainly was not. Ivar, your feelings are showing!]

catch up on the porno, I mean series, here.

requested by: @quantumlocked310 ♡

author’s note: thanks to this post, you’ll all be subjected to the written requests. brief mentions of smut under the cut, and love sick Ivar.

synopsis: Ivar finally figures out how to design your first tattoo.

✎

For this to be Ivar’s passion—his mortal life’s calling—he could not, for all of the seconds in the year, figure out how to design your tattoo. There had never, in his professional life, been a client that had given him complete and utter reign. No simple idea, no nudge in a specific direction, hint of any realm no where on the forefront. You told him to design you a tattoo to take up space on your thigh. And that was it. Even after he declined, saying there must be some idea you had, you shook your head and give him control. Total, and utter control. And it was almost too good to be true.

Ivar knew he was screwed, when an entire sketchbook’s worth of pages went torn, crumpled and tossed into the garbage can with failed ideas. Even Sigurd offered no help—not that he was the artistic hand Ivar needed, he was the needle pusher and piercer. Music selector and unruly greeter. Floki only offered his normal words of wisdom, a way of not answering the question but instead making Ivar look deep within himself. “Don’t think about it much, Ivar. Just let your heart and your mind run freely together.” Great. No help. Both of them were caged in a muddled pile of muck and mud and dead leaves and Ivar couldn’t pull them out.

Through every outing the band of brothers went on, you in tow more often than not, Ivar would be at the receiving end of your questions—how he was coming along with it. You had no deadline, you understood his craft took time, but you were far too excited to see. Then came the first hook up—Ivar driving you home because you were too many martinis in, you inviting him up but he declined because it “wasn’t a good idea, princess” and you told him you “weren’t his fucking princess” and he drove around the block twice before finally knocking on your door. Weight against the frame with his temple kissing it, apologizing playfully for his nickname and you invited him in. A game of truth or dare later, Ivar asked you how drunk you were when it was his turn. And you told him you were sober enough to make decisions, clear ones, and then he dared you to kiss him. You felt like a high schooler again. When it was your turn to ask him and he had picked truth, your one question was the end of the game:

“If I asked you to fuck me right now, would you?”

“In a god damn heart beat.”

He was more than screwed when you wouldn’t leave his mind, after you rocked his world and he used your name on his tongue to get himself off the next time his left hand was needed. And then he texted you, asking how your day was, that was it. And after a conversation, playful but real, he was over at your apartment with take out and beer and you two watched true crime and Ivar told you he had seen this one and tried to have you guess before the show told you. When you were right he said you were smart, when he silently figured out an equation in his head, how many liters to grams to degrees, or whatever the hell it was, you almost dropped your beer. He wrote it out for you to show you, a near different language across the page through algebra, and you told him he was smart. The tattoo idea clicked then. The minute Ivar realized he caught feelings, the tattoo idea became so visible he drew it in almost an hour.

There was never a nervousness with him when it came to the day of appointments, even with the most picky of his clientele, Ivar took it as it was gifted because he loved his craft too much to have these types of petty things take up hatred in his heart. But you walked through the shop, shortest of shorts on, a pair of flowing pants in your bag for the event that session went longer and nipped off into the chilling night time air, and both a coffee for yourself and a Red Bull for Ivar. He nearly wanted to throw the ink onto the floor because he was scared that once you saw the design, you’d laugh, you’d call him something pathetic and walk out, and it would be the last he’d see of you. Instead he handed you the artwork, and your eyes scanned the image for almost five minutes, mouth agape and holding it as if it were a map to the unknown, hiding gold and jewels and you asked him if you could keep the sketch. Even with it forever on your skin you nearly begged him for the original artwork, saying something about how you wanted to frame it. You’d never seen Ivar blush before, but you were sure he did when you said that.

The session wasn’t short—it was almost his full day’s work of hourly long needle dabs, buzzing and brotherly bickering between him and Sigurd. Intensive talks between you and him, explain to him the less than glamorous parts of your job, the funnier parts and the teenage humor of the men you worked with. Hvitserk’s track record for receiving the majority of patient vomit on every call and you watched Ivar laugh, smile more than you had known him too and you wondered if it was because of the machine in his gloved hand or if it was you.

Sigurd ducked out right before lunch, picking up with the three of you had ordered and your skin received the welcome break from the on-going buzz. You were quick to kiss Ivar once, lingering lips on his to thank him and he looked shocked for a moment, worrisome that his brother would see before he tossed the fear aside, shoving his tongue down your throat. When it was all said and done, dawned with the artwork on your flesh you couldn’t stop the smile. Neither could Ivar. He’d promised the sketch after he photocopied it for his portfolio and you went home with the sore leg but a full heart. He showed up late, just shy of midnight after cleaning up the day’s worth of work, buying a frame and bringing dinner for the two of you to eat. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of it, even in its red and swollen, tender state, you loved this tattoo, and Ivar took his time treating it for you. Even after his head spent time between your thighs, one hand plastered on the bare skin and the other holding yours. Even after you rode him, artwork in his line of sight and it made him finish quickly; watching the piece on your skin, your palms on his chest as he moved your hips for you. Your head tossed back as you moaned his name when you came, the heavenly sight and you were forever marked with his skill. The after care from the sex went beyond the closeness, holding you as the television played in the background; he spread the lotion over it, his entire hand nearly able to cup your thigh as he made sure to leave no line un-slathered.

“You know I’m going to want another one before this one even heals,” You said to him, craning your neck up to look at him.

“Yeah?” Ivar asked, his hand in your hair. “Where do you think you want your next one to go?”

“On my arm, so I can see it all the time,” You replied, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Who knows, maybe I’ll just cover myself like you do,” You giggled.

“You’re perfect already,” Ivar said through a yawn, his eyes closing, head drooping against yours. “You tell me where you want ‘em, and I’ll do it—but you’re perfect already,”

Ink Drinker Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @queen-sarang @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @walkxthexmoon @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @istorkyou @victoria-styles @quantumlocked310 @xbellaxcarolinax @mighty-ragnarssons @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @queen-of-upshur @nanahachikyuu @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @ivarhoegh @a5hl3y5ibley @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @youbloodymadgenius @love-all-things-writing @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon @tgrrose @synnersaint

*please message me to let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series/ones-shots/blurbs/etc. are also welcomed, as well as feedback.*

full masterlist can be found here.

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sundaemunt · 3 years ago

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Slowly, and then all at once

Miya Osamu and Akaashi Keiji meet by chance four years after graduating from High School. Some would call it coincidence, others might call it a fated encounter. Either way, what happens after is in their hands.

“I thought falling in love was like in the movies: hard and fast and in your face. But the truth is, it can be quiet.”

--An excerpt from a much later chapter

Chapter 4: 19 November 2018 - Tokyo Jimbocho: 1, 2, 3 Kappabashi-dori: 1, 2, 3, 4 Shinjuku Gyoen: 1, 2, 3 Tempura Daikokuya

Chapter 9: 30 December 2018 - Tokyo Keiji's gift to Koutarou and Osamu

This is my love letter to OsaAka. I started daydreaming/conceptualizing/outlining/writing this fic around December 2020~January 2021 (I cannot remember the exact date anymore, it's a blur). When I posted the first chapter in ao3 towards the end of June 2021, it was approximately 90k words and "finished". But after posting chapter 4, I realized it needed quite a bit of editing to make it a more enjoyable reading experience. As of late August 2021, it has surpassed 100k words prior to beta reading. This is the first fic I wrote for Haikyuu!!, and also the first fic that isn’t a drabble/blurb I’ve written since maybe 2014?

I will update this post with additional notes as the chapters are added. I will also update the graphic when we get around to wrangling the word count and chapter count since I do have to re-structure a few chapters.

I know it’s been a while since the last update but I promise I’m still working on this. Honestly, I cannot wait to share it in its entirety because I love this fic so much, but it does need a thorough beta reading especially after I re-arranged some chapters during editing. My beta readers have a lot of irl stuff on their plates right now so that’s another contributing factor. I’m still unsure if I want to get another beta reader who could do a faster job because beta reading is such a personal thing for me and I have friends who’ve been kind enough to lend their time and effort for this monster. But I promise, we are doing our best!

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years ago

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hello! just curious, how do you plot out your stories? (for example, what have you done to plan out the wings au? do you have it all in your head? do you plan it out on paper or in a doc specifically for it? do you just go with the flow? sorry if this is a lot of questions lol i'm just trying to convey my point-)

hello, synonym!! lovely to see you again! I'd love to share my process!

as I explain my personal methods (again, personal, just how I do things!), I'll use the wings au as an example because i know you've read it and it'll just be easier over all. but essentially, yes to all of the above, just with different parts of the story!

my progression is: chaotic doc, background (as needed), basic written plot, expansion on the plot, any other details needed, and then just write things! but don't worry, I'll provide more detail, i say as if i'm capable of being concise

(putting below a readmore for simplicity)

chaotic doc: so, the very first thing I do when i have a story is open up a doc, and write down everything i know about it in little bullet points and rambling sentences, just basic information with no organization. the organizing can come later, right now I just want to get as much of what's in my head onto the paper as possible.

I type out the basic premise of the story or the few things I know about how I want it to go, the things I know I want to remember later, things I'd need to think about to set it up, etc. for the wings au, this was details like everyone's wings (things to remember later), how they got those wings and a sentence or two about what the world was like now (things I needed to think about to set it up), a little blurb about where the story would start. this is less writing details about the story, and more noting down the details I want to figure out later in the expansion. i find it works best to type this out because i'm a much faster typer than I am at physical writing, which allows me to follow the flow of my thoughts a lot better and go back and change things.

background: background prepares me for the next step, but the amount of effort I put into this section depends on how complex my story is. it basically means write down (we've moved to pencil and paper now, but this could be digital too if you prefer) anything you need to know in order to set up the rest of your story. what do you need to know in order to tell the story you need to and to get you where you want to be? for the wings au, the background was that the world had been overrun with monsters and everyone was living underground now. the neverseen had been defeated, or so they thought, coming back later. all these things that essentially prepared me to get to the plot. it told me where the story was happening and the emotional/physical environment everything else would happen under. if you have a more worldbuilding heavy world, this step might be a little more complex, or if there's something very specific with the characters you need as context beforehand.

sometimes the readers will be aware of pieces of the background, and it's even necessary for them to know--for example, you all knowing the elven world is in the middle of a monster apocalypse and living underground; if you didn't know, the rest of the story wouldn't make any sense. but there may be things you write down that are just for you to know, personal notes. for example, I have notes written about how the monsters came to be, more specifically, that you all haven't been made aware of and may never be. planning this out is for you, so if there's something you want to remind yourself to keep in mind while writing, this could be a good place. but now that we know the world we're writing in, we can move on

basic plot: for me, I struggle to figure out where to take a story, and if I don't have the basic concept laid out before I start writing, I ended up with really weird stories that completely deviate from what i wanted (I say this from experience). so I break it down into the bare essentials. literally as basic as I can be. there are five crucial parts of a plot: exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution. just those five. for each of those, i write--writing, because it takes more time (allows me to think) and feels more organized to me, but you can do it differently--just the general idea I have for each section. just as few words as possible. detail comes later. for the wings au I literally wrote "they get wings" for rising action. having read the wings au, you know just how simplified that is.

one things that might help is consider how you would explain this idea to someone in one or two sentences. you just want to make sure you have a beginning, middle, end, and the transition between them. from there you've got the skeleton of your story, and everything else can fit itself into this idea.

expansion: now that you have the skeleton, it's time to fill in some of the more essential anatomy. this is where you add the specifics. for me, i write this physically in bullet points in a journal of some kind. I take the first section, and write down how the story is going to start. where am I going to begin this journey. for the wings au I wrote "beginning: sneaking into breeding facility to destroy monsters. problem: caught/monster breaks loose." if you remember this is essentially the events of the first chapter but in two sentences. I'm giving enough detail that I know what I'm going to write, but not so much it's going to be stifling to follow my exact notes when I actually get to writing. this will be different for different people, so you may want more or less detail than I provided, I'm just giving an example of how I did it.

I continue this for the rest of the plot, but that doesn't mean every single little detail that will ever happen is planned out. I'm not patient enough to be super thorough with every little thing, so I go long enough until I have a solid understanding of what I'm going to start with when I'm writing, or just until I'm bored and can't deal with planning anymore. for me, that meant I was more detailed when planning from the mission in the facility to them getting to the abandoned gnomish village, as those would be some of the first things I would be writing about. after that, I got more vague and just touched on some of the key part of each of those five sections. I take those two/three words and turn them into two/three bullet points. I also didn't want to be too specific with the later details, because I knew i'd be influenced by things as I wrote and would be inspired to fill that out.

any other details: this is kind of any afterthoughts you might have or details you need to keep i mind that aren't necessarily plot. you may have a lot of these, or you may have none. for me, this was where I wrote down what kinds of wings and other animalistic traits each of the characters had (yes, I wrote them down again). it's not strictly plot, but it does affect the rest of the story. this is also where I write anything I forgot to when going through the first time, and then i can draw a little arrow pointing towards where it fits in to the rest of the story or is relevant (which is part of why I like the writing aspect, but this is entirely achievable on a doc). another example from the au is me writing "domestic" to the side and pointing it back to my notes about the gnomish village, because while it wasn't essential to moving the plot forward, i wanted to touch on some aspects of domestic live with the ten of them while they were there.

just write things: now that you have all this planning done (good job, you!) you can get into the writing aspect. you've already decided your beginning and know where you want to go, so this is the part where you just starting putting words on the page. it can be pretty daunting to just look at a blank page, so if you'd like, start a paragraph in. skip the first paragraph and just start in the middle of something else--you can add back what's missing later. I personally note things that I want to come back to inside [brackets like this], and that can be words, sentences, entire paragraphs. i use the square ones specifically because I don't use them in my writing unlike (these parentheses), and then I can search the document for them all at once and see all the places I need to go back.

this is also where the "just in my head" and "make it up as I go" part comes into place. you have a pretty good idea of what you're doing, but you're going to have ideas as you write, so sometimes you just follow the flow of your brain and write things you could've never even planned for. and if you're interacting with others as you're going (like I'm talking about theories with you all while writing future chapters) then you may be inspired by them to add things to the story. originally, I wasn't going to even have any messages from Bronte or Oralie, but now because I saw what some of the people reading it were picking up on, I realized the potential there and added them in on a whim

and sometimes when you get stuck, the best way to get yourself out of that is to just add something random, which can spiral off and affect the rest of the story. I've said it before, but the dragons were not planned. I'd actually seen a piece of writing advice months ago that if you're stuck, change the weather. so I was stuck and made a sudden rainstorm, but then I needed an explanation as to how things got so wet so fast because I'd mentioned clear skies earlier. so in my attempt to explain it, dragons came to exist. writing is a process, so don't limit yourself to everything you've written. you'll be inspired along the way, so try to take it in stride.

one final note: as much as you plan, this is not going to be a definite map for how the story will go. maybe something makes sense as you're planning it out, but when you get to actually writing it makes no sense as all and you need to change things. that's fine! this kind of a plan is just to get you prepared and keep you afloat amongst this ocean of words trapped in your head that you want to transcribe. if something isn't working, change it! in my original written plan for the wings au they weren't going to run away for a few weeks, instead sneaking out for an hour or two at a time over those few weeks because they couldn't stand being underground anymore, until Linh was actually the first one to make contact with a creature and realize it didn't immediately want to kill her. but because she's not the narrator of this story, I couldn't write it the way i wanted, so I gave that to sophie in the tree.

this is just my approach to my more complicated stories! for some of the really quick ones, I just open a doc and start going. this kind of thinking keeps me organized so that I'm doing the idea the most justice. but just because it works for me doesn't mean it'll work for everyone. if it does work for you, great! but if there are parts you need to modify for yourself, you are more than encouraged to do so. personally, if I could only chose one part of this process to rely on, it would be the basic plot. that's the key to everything for me, but for others it might be something different.

I hope this helps with whatever it is you're writing!! I wish you luck and look forward to seeing whatever it is (should you chose to share it, no pressure)!! if you'd like more of my process on how I write it consistently and update on a schedule, I'd be more than happy to talk about that too!

#all of this took up about three pages in a 4.25 by 8.25 dotted journal #but I have very small handwriting so keep that in mind #also you might just be more/less detailed then i am!#this is just the framework I use #so use it if it helps!#this is also usually spread out over multiple days so I can think about the idea in between #and also because i don't want to do this much work all at once #I get distracted #but i did have a very specific approach when writing the wings au #so I'm very excited to get to talk about it!#i have written several other stories without planning and they always end up veering off into random things #like 'what happened. to the original plot. of the movie??' vibes #ah seli (an oc whose name I might change yet again)...I did you so dirty...#kotlc wings au #writing #writing advice #story planning #quil's queries #synonymroll648 #writing tips

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someobscurereference · 3 years ago

Note

I just read one of your old fics, Where We Began, and honestly I'm so in love with it? If you don't plan on writing more do you have any other abstract ideas about it? Like about how the Nohrians would try to calm them down or which of the trio decided to trust them first or just anything like that? I just really like it a lot and it's entirely fair if you don't have any other thoughts about it, it's an awesome concept but you wrote it years ago, I just thought I'd give it a shot

(referring to this fic) Firstly, I'm so glad you enjoy one of my older works! I write a lot of FE, but I enjoy my early stuff as much as my more recent stuff, so I'm glad you enjoy it too!

Secondly, I don't plan on adding more to the fic itself like as a sequel or anything, but I always welcome questions about any fic I write!

Re: The Nohrians calming the kids down

The Trio definitely get rounded up after Severa gets caught in the barn, lol. The only hope they had was running away, and Camilla caught Severa. Owain & Inigo aren't going to just leave her behind, and Niles is probably hot on their tail. So there goes that escape attempt. They'd probably get herded back to the castle pretty soon after, but that just means they're (very clumsily) trying to whisper escape plans to each other once get they stuck in a (windowless) room. So the kids are probably panicking less outwardly at that point but still Freaked. Even if this is post-war, it's a big, dark castle full with Bad Vibes. Why wouldn't they still think this is Plegia?

Re: Gaining trust

This is harder because you have to convince a bunch of 12 year olds whose last memories are of the apocalypse and who have been taught anything that resembles Plegia is probably on the side of Grima that hey, you're in another universe, you don't remember coming here, you're actually adults, we didn't know your real names before a second ago and the aesthetic is Ominously Dark Here but we promise it's cool, we're tight. Like, even for a kid, that's not going to fly

Ultimately, this would come down to how much the Trio have revealed about themselves to their lords, I think. Because you need at least one (better if at least 2) of the lords to say, "Hey, your mom's name is _____ and you told me about this secret memory from the time you were _____ and ____ happened, which I never could have found out unless you told me yourself."

It would not require all the lords/retainers to do this because if Inigo or Owain were both like "Hm, that is true, the only way you'd know that is if I trusted you enough to tell you myself," that would sway Severa not to freak out entirely, I think. (And vice versa; if Severa & Owain both were convinced Leo/Niles & Camilla knew them, that would convince Inigo even if Xander didn't have anything to offer just then, etc.)

However, they're not all the same levels of trusting. Inigo would be the easiest to sway, Owain would be medium distrustful even if Leo/Niles offered good evidence bc Imagination Running Wild (although that also means he's the easiest to convince they hopped dimensions/time traveled too), and Severa would be hardest to convince about anything in general, even if she didn't have any other way of explaining how Camilla or Beruka knew X about her otherwise. Severa is jaded at age 12.

Inigo probably compliments Camilla & Elise even more so than in canon but he gets Visibly Flustered every time they talk back to him because Tween Vibes. (I elaborate a bit more on this down below).

I think Severa would actually butt heads with Camilla because Camilla is so doting and motherly (and a flyer!), and Severa at this age has a lot of Angst and Mommy issues that she has yet to work through. Also, it's up in the air how soon aver Cordelia's death this would be for her. So this would be a tough dynamic for both of them to adjust to, and Severa would probably avoid Camilla until/unless something changed.

I can't remember if this was an ask in regards to this fic or something else, but I remember a long, long time ago having the thought that a de-aged Odin/Owain would actually be more drawn to Xander and Camilla rather than Leo, simply because of the fact Xander has such a cool sword and Owain canonically admires Camilla's armor. Leo is a dark mage, which is also cool, but not quite as Immediately Cool to a 12 year old who Loves Swords and doesn't yet use magic. I think this would actually make Leo jealous and exacerbate his inferiority complex, lol. (*Niles voice: Green isn't a good color on you, milord*) But all it would take is Owain seeing Brynhilder and hearing about it for him to Flip Out over that too, so I think the problem would solve itself then, lol

As a side note, here is a short blurb I wrote years ago in a scenario where Leo is there when Odin de-ages instead of Niles. Also, here is another ask about young Inigo's behavior with the royals. In summary for that, I think he'd actually be a bit shyer than he is in Awakening (when he's late teen age, I hc) because at 12-ish he's reached the "always smile, no matter what" stage of his facade but not the 100% "fake it 'til you make it" approach, so he's still really nervous around anyone and everyone. (Espcially royalty. Especially Extremely Tall, Very Handsome/Beautiful Royalty. For reference, Lucina may not intimidate him at this age because they've known each other since forever and That's Different, but I think people like Chrom (assuming this isn't Chrom! Inigo) and Emmeryn (were she alive) would get him flustered still. But maybe not Lissa because she may be more Owain's Mom to him than princess just because of the way she acts (though he may avoid her out of fear of getting a frog in his shoe or something) (But he'd still be flustered if she complimented him bc Nervous!!) Anyway!! That's too long! Inigo at this age, even after he's calmed down and knows what's up, would be shyer than his canon self, I think. He's still growing up

EDIT: also an additional old ask found here about this fic. However, I mention the kids being 13/14 in that ask rather than like 11/12 like I mentioned here. I don’t have any concrete ages written for them in the fic, so just assume they’re whatever age that seems best (and their ages probably vary anyway). However, if they’re on the younger side I think the Trio are still absolutely Okay with fighting (even though they wish they don’t have to, they fear the Faceless too much to be comfortable when one comes close bc Risen Vibes), BUT the age difference between 11 & 14 does mean its even harder for them to fight than it might be as slightly older teens (although they still do probably have pretty good teamwork, despite not getting along) and without rescue there’s a good chance they’d still lose

#my text #asks #fe14 #queue #my fic #i hope that was helpful to you! feel free to ask again if you have any other questions #long post

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bearseokie · 4 years ago

Text

dear readers and writers

— a little advice i wish i would have heard before i started this blog and writing in general. sorry i’m that writer that makes post like these, i just want you to understand that things like this change everything. if this looks like a lot, just find the ones that pertain to you.

writers

➤ 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝

there are so many good works that come from you focusing on the genres you are most comfortable with, and only writing those is not a bad thing. it’s not a “you’re not growing as a writer” situation, it’s a comfort zone situation. just because smuts do well doesn’t mean you have to force yourself to write them. just because angsts come in bulk because you can never ignore the emotional bits of writing doesn’t mean that has to be the main focus of every work. just because fluffs are the most reblogged content doesn’t mean it’s the only genre people will enjoy from you. focus on what you love, others will follow!

➤ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥

if you don’t consistently open your inbox, do it at least once. close it when you feel overwhelmed or at any time you feel necessary. don’t believe that you have to write them all in a short period of time. be statistical about it: only open it for a short game or blurbs. use the requests to fill in blanks or practice writing in different ways. play with the word counts. change up the tone. delete a few, you’re not obligated to actually write them, this is your free time and your work. but sometimes doing requests can change how you write, maybe even give you a breakthrough you wouldn’t have had with writing things from your own mind. and have fun.

➤ 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

filling the warnings up with silly little comments or parts from the story is important, too. even if it’s a paragraph’s worth of potential warnings or triggers, never skip adding them. even if you think it’s something not worth mentioning, it will be to someone. add as many as necessary.

➤ 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟏𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞

word counts don’t determine how good of a writer you are. from brilliant blurbs with two paragraphs and one line of dialogue, drabbles with less than a thousand words, or full on double digits fics: what counts is that you enjoyed writing it. it made you excited. you paused just to mention to a friend how much you love writing it. you got chills piecing together that one line. that energy gets put through your work and into your reader, seriously.

➤ 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭?

everyone reads. anything. everything. you name it, one person’s read it. whether your confidence in your writing ability is low or not, the process will only benefit you. and you get to spend time writing about some of your favorite people/characters, it’s a win-win. it’s no competition, only a fun time that you get to create and share with the world. try it.

➤ 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

the more detail, the better the mental picture. if you read something and love visualizing every scene, hearing every line, then you should work for the same within your stories. close your eyes and put your scene into your surroundings, every little detail counts. and although i said word counts don’t mean anything, if your brain does focus on you having large word counts (it happens to every writer, big word counts make you feel cool for writing so much), then this is a sexy step to use because it heightens that number pretty quickly.

short sentences look weird, but are better than run-ons.

vocabulary is sexy and thesaurus dot com is your best friend. need a word but can only think of something similar, you’ll find it there. used the same word three times now and think you’re starting to look insane, you are, use your sources.

you don’t need a banner or aesthetics for everything you write. the writing does all of the work itself. don’t stress about the accessories.

burnt out on writing the same thing / can’t think of what else to put down? break time. take a tangent, write something else, cut it off there (maybe post it) and leave the rest for the future, the cliffhanger or abrupt ending will have everyone on the edge of their seats. you’re still doing well.

if you’re writing to gain a following or have extensive amounts of notes to brag about, you’re into writing fanfics for the wrong reasons. hoping for feedback is one thing, feasting for it as your only source of inspiration for writing is just hurting yourself and other writers in the long run. write for yourself and no one else.

writer’s block? hell if i know, i’ve had it since before i started writing.

readers

➤ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤

a little feedback goes a mile. a simple emoji as a reaction, keyboard smashes, even tagging topical things can make a fanfic writer smile.

but long paragraphs also go a long way. imagine watching a movie you love to bits, so much so that you go online and read reviews of it. that commentary can shift the way you look at the movie forever, and stick with you during other films. it’s the same with receiving and reading feedback on fanfics. I’m not saying go crazy critical with your feedback, do not do that unless the writer says they want criticism, but maybe writing why you love one particular line so much could change the way the writer feels about the entire work or make a reader begin to love the same line so much that they quote it or recommend it. it makes a difference!

➤ 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬?

tell the writer. this isn’t an “i wrote this and it mentions all of these other things, so you should have expected this” game. if it bothered you, it will probably bother someone else, and that needs to be told to the writer. i don’t know what to tell you if a writer writes back being degrading or negative about your concern for that warning, but i promise you that most writers will not argue with whether it should be a warning or not and will just add it. do not be scared to mention something that triggered you if it was not mentioned in the warnings. also, please remember writers are humans and cannot think of everything all the time. we might miss one or two warnings within the work when writing the description, so please tell us.

➤ “𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠.”

pain. straight pain. your reblog shares that post with your followers. you like it, why wouldn’t they? that reblog stays on your page, it’ll be seen. the tags you put in could help others find more works on your blog, essentially helping more works be found. maybe they’re old and haven’t seen the light of the recent tags in months, but your reblog could help more people still see it, and that makes a difference. we all have those lazy moments where we don’t want to do all of the steps, but even doing them sometimes helps.

➤ 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩��𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞?

readers can scroll through the list for their preferences, find new writers that amaze them, maybe they gain the courage to put together their own fic recs list. all of those recommended fics are still floating around and being shared, they don’t get lost in the tags or the writer’s masterlists. you find/make a recs list: congratulations, you’re contributing to helping fanfics thrive (as they deserve). also, who doesn’t love an entire list right in front of them so they don’t have to go on a scavenger hunt to find new things to read? answer: no one.

➤ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐞?

tags to organize, fics to go through/find/read, oh my. let me let you in on a little secret:

have you ever had that moment where you suddenly remember one line or scene from a fic you read months ago, and you have the vaguest details to go off of in order to search and find it? your fics recs blog would have you covered, just scroll through the feed or the tags and boom, it’s at your fingertips.

now imagine someone else looking for more fics to read stumbling upon your blog. might look a little strange and coded to them, but eventually they navigate and find a new fic they’ll be talking about for months. they reblog it, add their own feedback, their followers see it and join in, and that writer feels immensely appreciated all because you started a recs blog and just-so-happened to reblog their fic. tah dah.

➤ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐩?

well, so did i. i asked my followers on this blog and my recs blog to send in their favorite fics with some extra details and feedback thinking i wouldn’t get anything, but i got an entire list! guess what’s even better? that list went straight into the tags (thanks to tumblr working properly for once) and now anyone that searches up ‘kpop fic recs’ can find it at any time. same goes for your own. there’s no specific way of organizing a recs list, just make sure the links work and the writers are credited! it helps.

read more! it’s a vast world in your hands, enjoy the words that go along with it.

sorry for this technical rant/advice post, this has just been in me for a while and i wanted to talk about it. I might add more to this as things come up, but for now i hope this helps! <3

#bearseokie.txt #this is a lot but hey it's a silly dawn rant again #i hope this gets through to anyone having a hard time writing right now #and to the ghost readers bc we still know you're there bro #take care of yourself !#bearseokie navigation #writing.tips!

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residentlesbrarian · 4 years ago

Text

The Fourth Book I Read In the Dark: Of Expectations and Other Relatabilities

Of Gryphons and Other Monsters by Shannon McGee

Hey, guys, sooooo...this is aaaawwwkward. I wrote 95% of this review when I wrote the other Books I Read in the Dark series for the blog, but the ADHD hit me and COVID was still you know...a thing! So I am gonna post this review, finished of course, OH, but also pay extra close attention to the conclusion alright! Hmm...this is a bit like a time capsule...here are my concentrated thoughts from 6 months ago while I was slightly delirious on books and darkness. So go forth and uh yeah this one is...you can just feel the feral “I haven’t had access to proper internet so I’ve been curled in the corner like Gollum with my books” energy coming off it so...enjoy?

Okay, so yeah, I really didn’t have a reason to end my last review that way I just wanted to, so sue me for injecting a little excitement into a series of posts about me literally sitting in my house reading nonstop for 2 ½ days, my reviews my rules. Back to manufacturing my own excitement shall we!

It’s Day 2! I’ve just finished my last library book, whatever will I do! I could always reread The Neverending Story for the 1,273rd time, but I have a need. A need for GAY! I rack my brain, there has to be a solution. My town is without power, my local library won’t be open, but then it hits me. It’s so simple! It’s meant to be really! Like the universe knew this was coming and it made sure I was prepared! Like a prepper stockpiling mental SPAM for my stimulus needing ADHD riddled brain! I have an entire shelf of books that I haven’t read yet! Way back in Clexacon 2019 my best friend (Lookin at you @justalifelongphase) gave me way too much money from missed birthdays and Christmases all at once before the con started because the world has deemed it impossible for us to live geographically close to one another. Anyway, I went a little book-buying-crazy and have not had the time or opportunity to read any of them since then. Their time has finally come!

I figured after going full whimsy with The Lost Coast and sci-fi superhero with Dreadnought and Sovereign why not take a dip into more traditional fantasy, also this one was first in line on the shelf, yay for not having to actually make a decision! No more dawdling, let's get right into the review!

Unicorn Rating:

Blurb: Taryn always loves and hates gryphon season. She finds the lesser gryphons more cute than anything but the ever present fear that a greater gryphon might be just out of sight is terrifying, and this gryphon season proves to be the one that will change her and her families lives forever! Just let a girl herd her sheep in peace!

Disclaimer: I will try my best to not spoil anything from the book, but my book loving rambles may give more away than a traditional review. Here we go! Ramble time!

Review:

I genuinely enjoyed this book. It took me a bit longer to get through it than the others, but I think that was a combination of three things: A. I was starting to feel the fatigue of reading so much in such a short amount of time. B. Our local Wal Mart had power restored on Day 3 and our entire household went on a trip to buy non-perishable food stuffs and I was like a solitary confinement prisoner being let out into the yard for the first time in months when my phone picked up a wifi signal and it was a bit hard to get back into the swing of reading after talking to other humans, even virtually, that weren’t imaginary or in my head. C. Our power was finally restored on the afternoon of Day 3 so yet again I was inundated with the draw of technology and all of my friend-os I hadn’t talked to, but the book had drawn me in enough I did the most unmillienial thing and left my phone in a different room to charge while I finished this book before going back to the land of technology and interwebs. That should tell you something.

McGee was able to write this story in a way that pulls you in so you care about what happens to these characters and this little mountain town. You learn just enough about the world to understand where they fit within the overall weave of it, but you aren’t given a Tolkein-esc dissertation on the world lore. I felt the worries and the fears. I was concerned when the routines had to change. I mean she made me care about the freaking sheep! Sheep, people! One of the reasons I think this works so well is we are so firmly rooted in the head of our protagonist, Taryn. Imma use that lovely bridge I just built to skip right on over the plot section of the review to get to the characters first, don’t worry we’ll circle back round to the plot. I always do, but I just wanna talk about my newest set of brain babies.

Taryn is a character that, if the title of this post is anything to go by, I found very very relatable. Now I know relatability can be pretty subjective, some people can latch onto something with the all consuming, “It me!” While others just stare on dead eyed not understanding the appeal. I feel like Taryn could be that kind of protagonist. You are either going to really relate to her or you won’t understand where she is coming from at all. I obviously fall in the former category. I was the quintessential middle child, still am really, though my relationship with my parents has shifted now that I’m an adult. More mutual respect and friendship than parent to child. I always did my best to pick up the slack, if ever there was any, and just tried my best to be as little of a burden as possible to my parents. I see so much of that aspect of myself in Taryn and how she sees her place at the farm and even in the town, she has her place and her role, but those expectations are heavy. One of those expectations being that she will inevitably get married and help take over the farm from her parents and have kids to continue the line. The fact she finds the lesser gryphons that flock near the farm far cuter than any of the local boys that she will eventually have to choose from to fulfill that inevitable expectation is just...sad at best and down right tragic at worst. And her family doesn’t help matters either. They won’t let her forget that she will have to settle down with one of these local boys, a boy who would make a good husband and take good care of her and the farm. She knows that, logically, but she also wants to be in love, like her parents, and she just doesn’t feel like that for any of the boys in town. She doesn’t know how to make those two things line up. It’s a struggle between her head, the obligation of what she has to do, and her heart, what she really wants for her future, to be happy in doing what she has to do. Wow, I went off a little bit there, but this was my long winded way of saying I have never read a protagonist that really captured the utter confusion of being raised in a heteronormative environment without it being drenched in internalized homophobia and fear. Protagonists like this seem to always know something is off but just don’t have the words for it so they just hide it because they know it’s “different” and out of the norm, but Taryn is just livin’ her sheep herding life and ain’t got no time for these boy crazy fools. She knows her mom wants her to find a good boy to court her so she can marry someday but she’s still young. She’ll think about that tomorrow, and she just repeats that ad infinitum. The thought that maybe she doesn’t fancy any of the boys because well...girls...never even occurred to her. It's not how things are done in this small mountain town, not because of homophobia reasons, but just stubborn tradition reasons. We are even told there is a gay couple living in town who are staples in the overall dynamics in town, instrumental even, but the idea of having a lineage, being able to pass your land down is so ingrained no wonder poor Taryn was so in the dark about her own probable gayness till it slapped her in the face. As someone who was raised in a medium sized Oklahoma town...girl I feel you. I was 22 and in the middle of Appalacia, way up in the mountains for college when my gay awakening popped up and said “Hello!” Everything that never quite made sense in my life came into perfect clarity. Not quite what happened with Taryn, but the arrival of Aella surely helped, as pretty girls are want to do. Oh look a segue, good, cause I could talk about Taryn for literal hours and I’ve already gabbed about her too much for this review.

Aella, you smooth motherfucker. Like I wish I could possess a quarter of the smoothness that you do. Like I’m lucky to string sentences together around a pretty girl, but here you are just strutting about being the smoothest of smooth. Honestly, I just...I can’t with you Aella. On a serious note though Aella is a character that served as showing Taryn a glimpse at the world beyond her small mountain town, as much as she had no desire to leave, unlike her brother. Nope, sit down, we’ll get to you, Michael! Oh, we’ll get to you. She’s traveled and has stories from all over and she is fairly open about the fact that she only likes girls, but she doesn’t have land, responsibilities, and a family line to continue. She just gets to live her life the way she choses. And y’all know I am a sap for the hard dark characters that are totally softies underneath that rough exterior. I think Aella was a great foil to Taryn and great at showing her what she could have if she was willing to leave, to stretch what she was allowed to wish for, but of course the biggest issue with her wishing for anything was...Michael.

Michael was such an interesting character. I loved him. I hated him. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to punch him. Again as with the town and the people of the town I was so deep seated in Taryn’s head and feelings that her conflicted feelings about Michael and how he was acting became my feelings on the matter. Not enough to not separate a tad and see what was coming or at least try to predict it as I always do when reading, but emotionally I was right with Taryn the whole way. The one thing that really pushed Michael from just a character I was conflicted about to one I really wanna give a swift kick in the nads to, is that he knew. He knew all about Taryn’s absolute lack of romantic inclinations toward any of the boys in town and her doubts that she would ever find someone to love and marry to take over the farm. He was the only person she confided these fears in and he still selfishly followed his own pursuits with little regard to her or her worries. You sir, are a terrible brother and overall a shit human, so sit your ass down and shut your mouth.

The plot for this book was so embroiled with the characters and their journeys that I can’t talk on it much but the twists at the end and the final climax was very satisfying for me and left me excited to dig into the next book. Also something of note that I didn’t talk about in the character section cause I felt it was dragging on a touch, I really only talked in depth on our three biggest players but there is a very colorful cast of side characters ranging from Taryn’s nervous pony to the boy-who-cried-gryphon neighbor no one can stand to the troupe of hunters led by Aella’s mother to Taryn’s best friend Nia, all of whom play important parts in building that sense of caring about the people of this town and the town itself, which in turn made me deeply care about the outcome of the plot at the heart of the story. And the sheep! The god damn sheep!

One thing I do want to say before my final thoughts is that whoever designed the cover of this book in a genius because as I dug into the story I found myself constantly closing it to spout off about theories of what I thought was happening on the cover and what it all meant, I was kind of reader fatigue delirious for most of those theories but some of them I was right! I might have reenacted the Captain Holt “Vindication” gif IRL just because it felt too good not to. I just love when a “cool” cover turns out to be so much more than that once you’re “in the know”. So yeah, now y’all know to pay attention for that.

My final thoughts on this book are pretty positive. I can tell the author is building us toward so much more, hence the name of the series, Taryn’s Journey, and it feels like it. This is only the beginning and I honestly can’t wait to take the next steps with her.

Queer Wrap-up:

Hey it’s me from the future...present...whatever...so, this is when I stopped writing the review six months ago and there is a reason for that. I, kind of, agonized over what to rate this book on the scale. Multiple times having to call my brother and go back and forth just to then repeat the same arguments with myself as soon as I got off the phone. Now why was this such a hard terrible no good awful back and forth well...SPOILER WARNING...seriously anything past this point will be spoiling some character beats for the majority of the book...okay? We understand one another. DANGER ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE...or you know scroll on.

So, Taryn is never confirmed to be queer in the text of this book. Now you would have to be wearing the tightest hetero goggles in known history not to see the heavy HEAVY subtext saying THIS BITCH GAY! It’s basically a full grown elephant painted sparkly rainbow trying to hide behind a dead shrub aka not hiding at all. I so desperately wanted to give this book four of those darling unicorns but in this rare case I just don’t think I can justify it. We have a protagonist that is still figuring herself out, which is amazing that we get to see that and go on the journey with her. Some of the things Taryn does and thinks are queer coded as hell, especially if it involves Aella who is explicitly gay on the page, but Taryn herself never express whether she herself is queer. Which, fair, other really important and traumatizing things were going on and I love that about her as a character, she didn’t meet Aella and suddenly that was all she could think about. Aella, of course, is representation who I’m counting because even though she shows obvious interest (you smooth motherfucker) in Taryn she is so much more than just a love interest and her character isn’t just boiled down to her sexuality. Now in this wrap up I’m also including the doctor and his husband in the town. They are very minor characters but they give us interesting insights into the town and the people. They are accepted and treated well in town even if some do almost, pity isn’t the right word, but they seem sad that they won’t be able to have any kind of legacy or lineage. As I said in the review it’s not homophobia it’s being stuck in your ways and it’s an interesting take.

Links:

Shannon McGee Website

The Storygraph

Okay so this one is a bit of a mess. Pieces of it were written 6 months apart and most of it was written while I was kind of delirious but hey at least I can say it’s honest. I still stand by everything my past self wrote and I still really enjoy thinking and talking about this book and am excited for whenever I get around to reading the sequel to continue on Tayrn’s journey with her. This is a book I probably would never have known even existed without ClexaCon and trolling through artist alley for literally every table that had books on them. I guess, moral of the day is maybe you won’t just find great books on library shelves but on unassuming convention tables too and it never hurts to look. Trust me, I’m a lesbrarian.

Oh bet you thought this post was over. I did the sign off and everything but oh no no! I have some info and such to impart. I am WELL AWARE these reviews have been fairly inconsistent to down right sporadic. Well, this is just a little info dump letting you guys know I am gonna be putting up one more review after this one that I wrote ages ago and I mean AGES (think years, as in multiple) and just never got around to posting and then the old blog is probably gonna be going through a PLANNED dormancy while some pretty big stuff is coming down the pike. You may notice visual changes and other stuff before anything else is announced but just keep an eye out. To quote the Fates from Hercules, “It’s gonna be big!”

Okay now for the actual sign off, I got shit to do! No one look behind the curtain, it’s a surprise!

#Of Gryphons and Other Monsters #Shannon McGee #resident lesbrarian #3 unicorns #questioning girl #lesbian #heavy wlw romantic subtext #ya novel #ya fantasy #go to your local library #but wear a mask #and wash your hands #and stay 6 feet apart #be safe out there guys gals and nonbinary pals

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zwiezraczek · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! It’s been a while, but I’d like to request a continuation for my request before. I loved the way you wrote about them bonding over parkour. So maybe this time y/n gets hurt on a job and starts doubting his abilities and Four comforts him.

Right Now [Blurb] [y/n=he/him]

Part 1: Happily

Note: I spent waaay to much time on this, I’m sorry as I messaged you! And it’s always a pleasure to write he/him y/n it changes a bit and it’s comforiting and I like it, I won’t lie about it! Thank you for your request!

You couldn't help but remember the words he said to you during that night, as you were laying in your bed, facing the ceiling of this cheap motel One found for you all until you could be back in the desert. “I just thing we have something,” resonating in your head as your dizzy mind tried to take off the smile on your face. It was useless, because you could still feel the brush of his hand against yours as he walked you to your hotel room, and waited until you entered your room. You thought it was surreal, all of this. You didn't know if it all was meant to be, how everything would unravel, but for the moment all you knew was that his smile was on your mind, along with his eyes glistening in the pale moonlight. Everything was new to you.

It all began softly, with his hand brushing against yours when the squad meet in the dinning room of the motel, while One explained how much you had accomplished last night an how much he hated to be left alone in his room while everyone was having a blast downtown – including you, hermits, he precised – and almost pulled out a presentation on what he should be involved in this kind of group project. A presentation, no one properly listened to. And you particularly, looking at Four who smiled every time he caught you looking at him. At the beginning, you thought that all of this was a fever dream, probably only your fever dream, and that all that had happened on the night before was forgettable. But it wasn't, as the butterflies' wings tickled your stomach when he gently put his hand on your shoulder while entering the room. To be quite honest, you couldn't find sleep after you woke up early, and you could count on Five's company while being awake, both of you having a small discussion around a cup of coffee.

And it was all about the small attentions he gave you, these small friendly gestures that meant a lot to you at that very moment. His head on your shoulder when he was falling asleep at the back of the car – and you knew that he used to sleep often on Seven's shoulder – and clinging a little more onto your arm while asleep in this uncomfortable position, and his hair tickling the tip of your nose everytime you turned around to look at Seven sitting on the opposite side while he spoke to you. It was all about the moment you locked eyes during a mission and you understood where he wanted to go, it was the times he caught you and told that he would never let you go, it was when after a mission he offered you a cup of coffee and you gladly accepted, and it was, one time, the soft kiss on the cheek. An attention you didn't know you needed until it happened. A delight for your mind and soul, something new – the feel of being loved by one.

The reality caught you pretty quickly. Sadly.

Unhappily for the squad, a mission was waiting for you around the corner. It jumped out of nowhere, not from the rooftops but from a strange place as One stormed into the place you were hiding during the past few weeks before you could make your way towards the desert – a long way home.

“We must go,” he sharply said as he began to gather all the important papers he had in some of the drawers. Everybody looked at him, not knowing what to do, except for Two who immediately began to pack her things.

“Grab all your important belongings and all that can lead them to us,” she added while packing before throwing a bag into Three's hands. “Now.”

They all nodded, and you were just left behind. Of course you knew that living like this meant being in a constant fear, in constant moving – an you liked it – but experiencing a police chase so close was scarier than intended. Your hands were shaking much more than when you were on a mission, grabbing your bag and trying to sort out everything that you would need or not. Four threw something at you, you caught it quickly and put it into your backpack, before turning around. It was the moment of splitting – just like the Scooby gang, One once commented.

“By all means, we'll meet under the great bridge of the town in one hour, right enough to let the police wander all around town in order to chase us, all panic-stricken. We're waiting five minutes before we leave,” One precised and the sirens began to hurl outside. “Have faith, it won't be the first time we're going to split. Especially you Eight, boy, it won't be the first time for sure.”

It was just scarier than you imagined, jumping from roof to roof, all by yourself, knowing well that the police was looking for you, and Four. You were more afraid of losing him than being caught yourself. And that was probably what made you so inattentive. You heard sirens again, you weren't far enough of the place where you were all hiding. Shit. You turned around, and began to run to lose them. But they were way quicker than you, and you had to lay it low. You had only thirty minutes to join the squad, otherwise you were fucked, and on your own. Especially right now. And in the rush, you tripped over a bar, and felt your ankle cracking like pop corn in a microwave. It didn't hurt, the adrenaline rushing through your veins didn't allow you to fear it more than you feared the police, and from the ground you rose, running more and more, taking different paths and dark alleys until you saw the bridge. But also the police, right in front of you, looking for you. And they saw you, you knew it. You were so close, yet so far from your final destination, but you had to made it. You knew that the squad wouldn't let you down, you hoped so, Four shouldn't let you down. So you ran, trying to outsmart the police, and you knew that the squad was all there because the car began to race in front of your eyes, rolling towards the place where you could jump off safely before you all disappeared into a tunnel. It was the moment to run for your life, and their life. You hated yourself for bringing them this much attention – but at least you weren't late. Your ankle began to hurt again, but the pain slowly became unbearable. You prayed for Five to find a solution to this.

All you remembered from the moment you entered the car were shouting and One's voice as he cursed all over the place, as if it would make the situation better. As you entered the car, hissing in pain, Four immediately made some room for Five to go next to you, with all her medical supplies. But from her look, it wasn't as bad as it felt. You felt Four's hand grabbing yours from the back of the car; you couldn't see his face, but from his grip you knew he was worried. And it was all you remembered, the harsh words, the pain, and the sleep that Five put you in.

And then, the harsh fall.

It was going on forever inside your head: you had messed up. The whole mission was a failure because of you. You had to run away, to hide, an with your hurt ankle nothing was feeling good. You didn't feel like you belonged there anymore, and it was all that you were able to think about while sitting on the bed in the crappy hotel room you shared with Five for the moment. One's words were resonating in your head, and you only wanted to sleep, it was the only way to forget about all of this. Five often asked if you needed something, if you wanted something, but it made you feel more like a burden than anything, but it was nice from her. A knock on the door made you jump with surprise, still hugging your pillow. It was probably Five. You said to come in, and it wasn't her that opened the door. It was Four. Four whom you refused to see in the past few days while your ankle was still unwell. Four that apparently insisted on seeing you according to Five, but you refused. And now, he was standing right in front of you, looking at you with his puppy green eyes as you were miserably sitting there.

“How are you feeling,” he asked you and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Like shit,” you bluntly replied avoiding his eyes. “How would you feel if the mission was almost fucked up because of you?”

“It wasn't,” he calmly replied trying to reach out towards your hand, but you hid it under the blanket. “It wasn't your fault, okay?”

“It was, and I'm injured now and I can't do shit and I'm fucking useless,” your voice was shaking. You couldn't bring yourself to tell all of these things to Five, and especially not to One, but you knew that somehow Four was the right person to let all of this go.

“You're not useless, we've already had that talk Eight, and you know how important you are to the...”

“I don't care,” you blurted and he immediately stopped talking. Your eyes were watery as you already regretted yelling like this. “I'm sorry I... I shouldn't I just... I'm exhausted I can't do this anymore.”

And without any doubt, Four went up next to you, and then proceeded to hold you in his arms as you snuggled your head into his neck. Tears were already running on your cheeks, and his soft whispers were calming you down. It felt like home again, it felt safe for a minute. It felt as if nothing else mattered at that point, nothing else than you and him. His gentleness made your heart bounce harder and harder inside your chest, and your tears were slowly replaced by an overwhelming feeling of love. He kissed your forehead then. Gently and softly.

“Thank you for bearing with me even when I'm... Basically the worst,” you managed to say, your voice still weak.

“I'll bear with you forever Eight, no matter what. And never doubt in yourself, because I see how talented you are and how much you want to do the right thing. We don't care about what others think, you saved their asses a countless number of times, they can save your ass once. And they'll have to, otherwise they'll lose us both.”

You looked right into his eyes. It was like seeing a countless number of stars shining inside of them, a beautiful galaxy of emotions staring at you, with passion, with love, with everything. It probably was the best moment for your lips to meet, as he slowly lowered his head and his lips reached yours. It was a soft first kiss. It wasn't anything passionate, but it felt like an infinite number of blankets covering your body and keeping you warm, as if butterflies surrounded you and sheltered you with their wings. It felt like love, and you weren't ready to give up on it.

“Don't ever doubt yourself,” he whispered against your lips.

“I won't,” you softly replied.

#ben hardy #four/billy #four x reader #6 underground #male y/n #mlm relationship

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livlepretre · 4 years ago

Note

can you explain your drafting process & how you planned fairytale ending? that fic is huge

absolutely!

usually, some spark of an idea or a scene will be the first thing that inspires me to write a fic-- in FE’s case, I woke up the morning after The Reckoning aired and immediately wondered, but what if Klaus had actually kidnapped Elena?

So, with that initial spark in mind, I’ll usually go ahead and write that first bit that initially jumps out at me-- just to get the ball rolling, and to take advantage of that first bright burst of creative energy. In FE’s case, that’s pretty much the first chapter. This is when I’m just focused on setting the mood of things, setting the atmosphere, throwing in little snippets of conversation-- whatever first jumps out at me about an idea, and whatever excites me the most. (In SWBS the first scene I wrote was actually the scene in chapter 9 or 10 when the nurse asks her if she could be pregnant and she’s like, no waayyyyy.)

Eventually there comes a point where I run out of steam, usually somewhere between 500 and a few thousand words in, and that’s when I turn to outlining.

I’m one of those people who really can’t write at all without an outline. Like, yes, I can meander for a few thousand words, but I just can’t go forward unless I have an idea of where I’m going. Sometimes that changes-- it’s certainly changed in FE plenty of times-- because the story will go in unexpected directions, but having an idea of where the story is heading is key.

I’ve discussed my outlining in strenuous detail here, with actual screenshots of my outlines, but basically, I have three levels of outlining:

1) The overall outline-- this is just a bullet pointed list of the general arc of the fic-- my original idea for FE was pretty simple-- it was literally just a bullet pointed list of where I wanted the relationships to go, and didn’t even really include any of the big plot or action points. That all came later-- which makes sense, because the main thing that motivated me to write and excited me was exploring the relationships.

Here’s a screenshot of the original outline from like 2011 (I cropped out the last few bullet points because believe it or not they’re still relevant for where I want the fic to go) -- obviously some of the plot points never happened, and it’s just an incredibly loose outline

2) The next step is to divide the fic into general arcs or parts-- and to figure out what items from the general outline go in which part, and to start fleshing them out. This is when I start thinking about things like: who are the antagonists? what are the big action sequences? what are the big events that will actually shift things? the really exciting scenes that I daydream about while doing the dishes or in the shower or whatever?

I would say my original idea for FE’s parts were:

I. The manor stuff with Klaus/Rebekah/Stefan vs. Elena getting very lonely

II. Elena has her affair with Tyler

III. The Miscarriage

IV. The part we’re on now, which I actually refer to in my mind as the Chicago arc, even though we’re not in Chicago hahaha -- but, Elena/Rebekah vs. Klaus/Stefan

V. The ending

As I was writing certain things came up--

Daggergate occurred to me during the hiatus between chapters 6 & 7 (Tyler was originally slated to die in chapter 41 but I found out he died on the show and I decided I couldn’t kill him, and then I had the idea that if Elena could save him, that could be a major victory for her, and I realized I could sort of invert that scene when Klaus kills Zoe and instead have Elena run and be the one to slay him), which led to the Exile arc, and inserting the miscarriage into that arc. I think the idea that Rebekah would be the one to break Elena out of her exile came to me pretty early on into thinking about that?? Unclear though because it took me like two more years of writing to get that far.

I impulsively added in the first Nola arc literally at the point when I was publishing it, because I wanted to write about Nola and because Klaus and Elena had become unexpectedly close in the fic (in my original idea I don’t think they ever hook up or kiss and Elena certainly doesn’t fall in love with him-- I’m so glad we got this FE and not my original idea). Oh! And also I wanted to do the gold dagger but at some point I realized that the only feasible way to get a hold of it would be to actually go to Nola so off we went.

2nd Nola arc was based on a comment asking me about the bloodstone, which made me realize that 1) I really did want to go back to Nola to tie those things up, especially with Marcel and Davina 2) the bloodstone would be a great diversion from that gold dagger, and 3) it had occurred to me at some point that Mikael would be undaggered if this is a 3x05 divergence and I wanted an opportunity to introduce him as a Big Bad for the last part of the fic

So, the arc outline developed into:

I. The first manor arc, ending with Elena breaking things off with Stefan (and therefore moving on)

II. The first Nola arc, ending with Elena creating the bloodstone and attempting to recurse Klaus

III. The second manor arc, with her affair with Tyler, discovery of Klaus compelling her, rising out of her depression through art, ending with Klaus inevitably calling her back to Nola

IV. The second Nola arc, with bloodstone 2.0, plus the Abattoir battle with Mikael and Team Mystic Falls, plus Daggergate (I’m sorry I’m probably never going to top this...)

V. The Exile-- the miscarriage, the years in solitude, and the slow rise from the depths-- ending first with Rebekah coming for her, and secondly with Mikael and burning the mansion down and daggering him

VI. What I think of as the Chicago arc, but could easily be the Coven arc or the Family Four arc or whatever... this whole weird false detente we’re in

VII. The Rest of the Story

This is also the point in outlining, when I’m developing the next arc, where I like to write a list of all of the characters, and write a little blurb about what their motives are. It’s really helpful for me to come up with what’s going to happen if I have a really clear idea of what everyone’s goals are-- so, for example, in the 2nd Nola arc, it was something like:

Klaus wants to free the loup garous from the curse and turn them, and he wants Elena (and maybe to recruit Davina to him)

Marcel wants to reobtain the bloodstone with Elena’s help, and use it to finish the spell to rebind Klaus’s werewolf side and ultimately kick him out of New Orleans

Stefan wants to protect Elena from the scheming, and potentially run away with her if necessary to get her free of it all

etc.

This is especially helpful because it can point out where the conflict-- and therefore the interest-- is going to come from in the story. If I notice too many people are in agreement on their goals, I think about who might actually disagree with the others, and what their reasons are for doing that. This is a big help, and whenever I feel stuck writing, it’s usually because I haven’t clarified to myself well enough what everyone’s goals are. (You can imagine that this is a huge mess right now with all of my notes on what Elijah wants and Klaus wants and Rebekah wants and etc and etc heading into FE 59!)

3) Finally, after the arcs are sort of outlined, THAT’S when I draft the actual chapters, chapter by chapter-- I literally go through and write “Chapter 59″ and then put a bunch of bullet points under it with what I want to happen in the chapter, as well as all the other chapters in the arc-- all the while, knowing things will get added or shifted or deleted, as things occur to me or as things move away from the direction I expected. I often assign a color to each chapter outline so I don’t get confused.

The advantage of writing a story like FE is that it’s serially published-- I can think about things and brainstorm as I’m going, and if I’m daydreaming sufficiently far ahead, I can feather things in early-- like, all the stuff about the dagger was planted like in chapters 22-24, or the stuff about Elena having a history of missing her periods was because I knew she would miscarry without having realized she was pregnant.

Also, I reread the story once or twice a year and take notes every time I do it. A lot of times there will be totally random lines that I just wrote for atmosphere or whatever that can be construed as foreshadowing if I add something in later-- I honestly can’t remember at this point whether or not I had already decided to have Elena burn down the manor when I wrote the scene during the 2nd manor arc when Tyler warns Elena about catching the house on fire-- maybe I had, but I definitely latched onto that later when I made that decision to go ahead and do it (or it’s possible that that line actually gave me the idea?). I’m a very slow reader so this is usually a fairly painful process for me, as I’m always impatient to actually write, but since the project has taken me so long, I feel this is a really important aspect-- just, becoming intimately familiar with what I’ve said, and what the exact emotional arcs are, taking notes on who knows what, and looking through the old writing with fresh eyes/my mind focused on where I’m going now to see if I unintentionally said something that could build on what I want to write about going forward.

I guess my last note is that if you can, it’s good to let your stories marinate. Like, yes, work on them when you get that ZOOM rushing creative energy and excitement that lights a fire under you... but if you don’t have it right away... that’s okay. Daydream about your work. Flesh the story out in your mind.

I ran out of steam on FE like three hours into working on it back in 2011, and I somehow knew myself well enough to know that I didn’t have the attention span or the ability to juggle 2 wips at once. So, naïve college student that I was, I decided I would finish After the Fire, But Before the Flood and then focus on FE. I ended up having a lot of RL stuff for years and years taking the bulk of my attention, and it took me years to write and publish the last couple of chapters of ATFBBTF, and then I only ended up publishing FE because a fandom friend kept asking about it, and that finally encouraged me enough to dust off my notes and work on it again in March 2016. But the thing is, during all that time I wasn’t working on it, I was daydreaming about it. I was building this whole story and thinking about all of the wild arcs I wanted to include and letting it flourish in my thoughts... so it was ready to go when I had the time and the chance to work on it again.

And it’s grown a ton since then, and become a much richer and fuller story than I ever thought I could possibly write, and a lot of that is just realizing that stories take time. I’ve been lucky to work on this serially and be able to continuously build on what I have and try to always think about how I can incorporate the happy accidents of the early writing into current writing decisions. And also lucky that I’m relatively slow to update, so ideas often occur to me years before I’m able to get to them so I can start hinting at them relatively early. But, a lot of that really is just happy accidents and taking my time. So, one of my main pieces of advice is to take advantage of the fact that fic inherently gives you an indefinite window of time to build the story.

I hope this has been helpful to anyone interested in writing a long fic. I’ve had no idea what I was doing most of the time, but it’s been a great deal of fun.

#anonymous #fairytale ending #on writing

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heraldofzaun · 3 years ago

Text

Hi. We’re doing this again. I’ve already spoken a little bit (well, a great bit) about how old lore Viktor wasn’t a stereotypical evil villain, but I keep seeing this interesting trend crop up - especially in the comments of analyses on Viktor’s character - and so I’m going to write about it. That trend is the fact that people seem completely and utterly convinced that only old Viktor “augmented without consent” or “didn’t respect free will” or similar mad-scientist-adjacent claims. This isn't true. The inverse is true, actually.

What follows is the entirety of Viktor’s old lore (I’m using the first - the second variant is the one that snips out his going to the Institute of War, I’m not trying to pull a trick on you or anything), his lines upon release (which are still technically canonical, even if many people believe them to be outdated - whether that is due to Riot still believing that they’re accurate to his character or, more likely, Riot not caring to replace them, I don’t know), and the accompanying blurb to his release comic. I am also including Jayce’s second lore, the one which Riot wrote after Viktor fans pointed out that Jayce’s original lore was contradictory to Viktor’s character. (Which is mentioned in the post I linked above. TL;DR: Viktor fans made such a fuss that Jayce’s lore got changed to paint Viktor as less of a villain, which again points to the fact that old Viktor wasn’t necessarily perceived as villainous by his fans. Of course, fan perceptions can be wrong - but canon was changed, so...)

This screenshot is missing his pick/ban quotes (“Join the Glorious Evolution.”/”Inferior constructs.” - ban quotes were added after his release, so they recycled one of his attack lines) and the quotes for Chaos Storm (“Obliterate!”/”Consume!”/”True power!”/”Behold!”). This is because it didn’t fit on my computer screen nicely.

This was written alongside Viktor’s teaser comic. (I personally really like the teaser comic, even though I’m concerned about Viktor cutting a hole in his laboratory wall.) It is, technically, non-canon material as it was posted on the now-defunct forums rather than anywhere on the client, but as we’ve seen a recent trend of Rioters Word-of-God’ing facts about canon, I may as well include it. There may be more Word-of-God confirmations on those forums as well, but the backup site that they’re currently hosted on doesn’t allow for searches as the original site didn’t either. You can find this on the “Development” tab of Viktor’s wiki page, if you’re curious.

Is there anything in here, besides “Submit to my designs.” and a few other of his voice lines, which should be taken with the context that they were a) written in 2011 and are thus not the highest examples of character-focused writing and b) written under the context of these being things he is saying to opponents on a battlefield, that says “Viktor augments people who are unwilling”? I don’t see it. He isn’t an angel, sure, because he wrecks Jayce’s lab after the man doesn’t want to work with him, but… He’s mostly alright, at least when it comes to the claims I’m investigating. (Also, note that his acolytes are not specified as being under his control or anything like that - they very well may just be people he’s helped, who don’t want a strange man smashing up the lab they were helped in.)

An interesting side-note: Jayce’s first lore does seem to imply that Viktor murdered people, as he “staged a deadly raid on Jayce’s laboratory”. This is concerning. There’s still somewhat of that implication in the second lore, considering the whole “incinerating the lab’s meager security force” line, but I’ve never seen anyone in fandom over the years use that as evidence for Viktor being a murderer, which is interesting. There’s actual textual evidence you can point to to say that Viktor’s a morally awful dude, and yet no one pointed to it when it was canon...I’ve never seen it cited in any character analyses for Viktor, nor have I ever seen anyone make the point that it’s people that Viktor’s incinerating. Food for thought, I guess. Anyways, my personal take is this: it’s security systems, not people. It doesn’t quite make sense, in-universe, for Viktor to murder a bunch of redshirt security guards but only blast Jayce aside - and leave him with no lasting injuries, obviously. Out-of-universe, you can say that it’s because Jayce is a champion, but still… It really doesn’t fit. Of course, I’m an old lore Viktor fan and this is entirely me trying to justify that he’s not a bad guy, so you can definitely take my words as biased. As we’ll see later, even if you take this as proof that old Viktor’s a killer, it doesn’t mean new Viktor is morally spotless.

Also, if you speak a language other than English and want to kill time, feel free to write in with what Jayce’s old lore says he did if you can find a translation of it. (If you go to the League wiki you can find other language versions of it, and from there you can poke around on Jayce’s page to see if it even has his older lore at all.) The Polish version apparently doesn’t imply people, but the Russian version uses “guards”... or so I think, my knowledge of Russian is pretty small so it was me and Wiktionary against the world. I think that League lore translations, especially from 2011, aren’t exactly the best material for textual evidence, but it’s an interesting curiosity. (I’m genuinely fascinated on how this was never a point of argument, and also to the fact that it was made much more ambiguous in Jayce’s post-outcry lore… but not removed.)

Anyways. Of course, you can take his lines and general character to a logical endpoint and say that it is implied that he doesn’t care much about whether or not people consent to the Glorious Evolution, but at that point you’re arguing interpretation and need to say as such. The cases I’ve seen in which people say that old lore Viktor was lopping people’s limbs off without consent or what-have-you just say that, without citing any textual evidence or saying that it is possibly implied by his character and lines. It’s pretty hard to take those claims seriously when there’s much more textual evidence that current-canon Viktor doesn’t seem too keen on respecting autonomy. Let’s begin with his own lore, which is written to favor his perspective.

Please keep in mind that this Viktor got his start selling automative technology to businesses in Zaun. The Zaun that is full of corrupt chem-barons. But let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he only sold to good businesses. (Also, fascinating that a common complaint about old Viktor is that his status as a pioneer of his field is that he’s “unrealistically accomplished”, and that other people would have figured out the same technology - just as it seems to be the case in current lore, with the Church of the Glorious Evolved existing pre-Viktor (except that it probably didn’t at the time of this lore’s release, as there’s a paragraph later on in his lore that talks about a “quasi-religious cult” that is unnamed but… Who else would it be?) and augmentations being common on the NPCs on the Universe page. Yet someone who’s 19 having their inventions be commonly used in Zaun long enough for the term eventually to be used in reference to the next stage of their life is perfectly acceptable. Anyways…)

What we see from this is clear: even if there is a “good” reason to control the divers, there is no mention of them consenting to the procedure. Considering the previous quotation, Viktor seems to deal more with the bosses than the workers and doesn’t seem to consider the potential job-removing impacts of his work (how many people lost jobs due to being rendered obsolete?), which doesn’t bode well for him caring much about what the workers think. But of course, this aside about dealing with bosses is all interpretation, so you can ignore it if you’d like. There still is, however, actual, textual evidence that new Viktor does not care about consent if he believes his idea is what’s best for you.

Ignoring the writer misusing the term “psychotics” - par for the course in fiction unfortunately - here’s Viktor kidnapping people “for their own good”. Nothing is said in his lore if he’s contracted to do this, or if he’s just Zaun’s version of a Good Samaritan out and about chloroforming people. While I’m not saying that the moral choice is to not intervene, he is drugging people here and performing brain surgery on them. Please note the “in a manner of speaking”. What does that mean? Is it in reference to them having permanent brain damage? Or is it in reference to him being all well-and-ready to transfer their bodies into robots that presumably weren’t designed for them? (Speaking of, if Viktor can transfer the consciousnesses - or at least brains - of people… why is he still in a fleshy mortal body? Yes, it would require a VU to update him to be fully robotic, but none of his written media seems to imply that he’s on his way. His color story has him integrating technology directly into his arm, for example. Why aren’t you getting into the robot, Viktor?)

Anyways, two options here: either the automatons had enough of their former programming to react to Viktor giving a kill command, or the consciousnesses of the people Viktor is “saving” are in these robots and are under his sway enough to commit murder. Either is bad (and negates any moral superiority over old Viktor’s maybe-implied-canonical-murder), but the second is horrifying. And, obviously, non-consensual. (Because the damage is reversing, I don’t believe there’s room for a justification of the second option in which these people are still violent and dangerous.)

Anyways, last bit. It’s pretty bad when your ethics are panned in Zaun, the nation host to rampart corruption and also people like Singed. Let’s now move on to his color story, which is what a lot of fans point to as evidence for new Viktor having a heart or a moral compass.

Yay! Moral win: your cyborg isn’t cutting off the head of a child without his consent. (Also, again, is this proof that Viktor can put brains or consciousnesses in robot bodies? Admittedly, he might be joking since this Viktor is a little softer than he is in his biography.)

Moral… win… your cyborg is augmenting a child… Anyways, joking aside, this is unethical. How’s Naph supposed to consent to something like this? I know that we can’t expect fictional characters in a fantasy setting to abide by modern ethical standards, but I think we can critique them from an out-of-universe context. This is bad. Viktor gives very little context, could very well be lying (he isn’t, hopefully), and sends the kid off with his version of a pat on the back and tells him to come back if he wants more. (The “Oh yes” is also… creepy.) A kid’s decision-making abilities aren’t developed to the extent that they can be reasonably expected to understand or consent to a procedure that removes a pretty crucial emotion. If Naph comes back and wants his fear gone permanently, will Viktor oblige?

Also, fear is something that is very important to survival and judgment calls. Without fear, a kid in Zaun might take dangerous risks that could end up with them dead. I can’t really see how people interpret this as a morally sound decision - Viktor’s pretty much giving mood-altering drugs to a child and telling him to come back if he wants another hit. Just because he got Naph’s okay doesn’t mean that he got informed consent.

Let’s now turn to the black sheep of Viktor content: his Legends of Runeterra lines. There’s two of interest.

Armed Gearhead’s card art is of a man whose only augmentation is his arm, which he says he broke in another line. (I suppose he didn’t want to wait for it to heal?)

Viktor is talking about messing with his head, here, because Armed Gearhead is… too emotive, I’d guess. He is “not yet complete”. A statement which Armed Gearhead seems rather apprehensive about, if you listen to his response.

I know that LoR Viktor is one of the more “comically villainous” depictions of Viktor we’ve seen, so if new Viktor fans would like to ignore his lines I have no issue with that. But these lines certainly seem to imply that what Viktor sees as Armed Gearhead’s end state isn’t necessarily what he sees as his, and should be considered if people want to take them as canonical.

Not necessarily needed, but here’s Jayce’s present lore. One of them is definitely lying - Jayce’s lore says that he doesn’t strike until after Viktor gives the kill order, and Viktor’s says that he gave the kill order in response to Jayce smashing up the lab. Either way, Viktor is ordering automatons (that, in this version, are outright stated to be housing the brains of the people Viktor is trying to keep alive) to kill Jayce. Not a good look.

Viktor’s new lore gives significant textual evidence that he doesn’t care for whether others willingly consent to his ideas, so long as he believes that his ideas are for the greater good. This is in contrast to the vagueness of his original lore, meaning that any individual who speaks about how current Viktor is someone who cares for consent in contrast to the “unethical mad scientist”ness of old Viktor is unfortunately mistaken. I have to imagine that general fandom interpretation, combined with the fact that his bio and color story are very tonally different, have made it so people believe that this version of Viktor is much more ethical than he canonically is.

Interpreting Viktor as sympathetic and actually morally grey is fine, of course! Riot wrote his narrative very poorly when he was updated, which is why I’m still finding bones to pick with it in comparison to his original and more open-to-interpretation lore. The issue is stating that this is canonically the case, which it isn’t, and/or stating that the current iteration of Viktor has the moral high ground over his previous incarnation, which he doesn’t. I think that much more interesting character conversations can happen if people acknowledge that Viktor as he’s currently written is roundly unethical - how can that be improved upon for a more complex character, does that mean that Jayce’s behavior was right, etc. For all my dislike of new Viktor, I’d be genuinely curious to read a take that actively acknowledges his pre-college work in automation and how that affects his standing in Piltover and Zaun. (Is he well-known in industry? What do workers think about him? And so on…) And, well, on a personal note: I think that acknowledging current Viktor’s moral failings would be nice, because it would mean that people would stop using old Viktor as a strawman.

Anyways, I suppose that’s the post. Thank you for reading!

#headcanons | beneath the mask #//back at it.

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horansqueen · 5 years ago

Text

You & Me : chapter 16

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.4k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: youre gonna love me. then youre gonna hate me. or at least that what i think :X WARNING: DRUG ABUSE +SMUT

also, if you like this story you may want to read the few blurbs i wrote about it. ill probably write more but here are the few already written

Niall & Liv (fetus) - FLUFF

Louis & Liv - FLUFF

Niall & Liv - SMUT & FLUFF

Liv & Heidi - ANGST

if you read, THANK YOU!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : you guys wanted fluff and smut and i think i got it right lol SPOILERS”

Chapter 16 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

The words Heidi had thrown at me were resonating in my head over and over again, hitting my brain like a hammer as a headache was forming itself. I looked around the room at all my friends smoking, still unsure if I should actually do it. Sometimes it was fun and other times, it ended up ruining my nights and with the feelings invading my insides at that moment, I was still in a dilemma. My eyes met Niall's and I realized he was looking at me and him too was a dilemma for me. I was not as tipsy as I was at the club and I could see him clearly. He was sitting on an other couch and I was not sure why he didn't sit next to me but I pushed that thought away and pressed my lips together.

I wanted him so bad that just the thought of his hands on me made me hold my breath and made my whole body tense. I knew it could seem like a common feeling. I was not the first person to feel lust for someone and clearly not the last one, but was it normal to lust someone so intensely even if you already knew what he felt like? Even if you already knew what he tasted like? What he smelled like? Was it normal to need someone so bad even if you had him before, and not just once, but a hundred of times? I could understand the need for new things, the craving for something you want to experiment... but wanting someone you've had multiple times before was a new thing, at least for me.

The fact that he wanted me too was a bit ridiculous though. I had enough self-confidence to accept it but now that Heidi had thrown at me some rude shit, my trust was starting to falter. She was not wrong, though. Dylan and Niall were both out of my league, but a body was just that, a body, right? It's not all that mattered and I tried to remind myself that even if Heidi was considered 'beautiful' by society's standards didn't mean she had the personality that went with in. In fact, in that domain, she was not even a two and apparently, I was not the only one who thought that.

I got off the couch and walked slowly to the bathroom, trying not to draw attention to me, and I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. I was chubby now, I knew, and my teeth were crooked. Was something wrong with my forehead? I turned my face on the side and grimaced before passing my hand in my hair. I used to be average but now, Heidi was right, I was just below that, and it was hurtful to realize. I closed my eyes tight and groaned low until I heard a noise and felt my heart jump in my chest. I turned around and noticed Niall, leaning against the door frame, staring at me.

"You're not focusing on Heidi's shitty rant, are you?"

I sent him a small smile and glanced down despite myself, realizing I had answered his question without even talking. The thought in itself was pathetic and I couldn't believe that once again, I was in the bathroom and that Niall had randomly joined me. Should we bring chairs for next time? A couch, perhaps?

"I'm okay, Niall."

"You remember who you're talking to?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "I'm your best friend. I know you by heart. You're not okay, I know you're not. Talk to me."

I didn't know if it was the alcohol still doing something to me or just the tone of his voice reaching something inside me but I shut my eyes tight and let out a sob I was desperately trying to keep inside. I brought my hand to my mouth and in half a second, Niall was close to me, wrapping one of his arms around me and pulling me closer. He smelled amazing and I let my cheek brush on the soft fabric of his shirt, moving my arms around his chest and holding him tight against me.

"She said that because she knows how self-conscious you can be. Don't let her win, okay?" he whispered, rocking us slightly before kissing the top of my head. "Olivia, look at me."

I pulled away slightly and looked up at him through my eyelashes. He grabbed my chin with his thumb and forefinger and moved it up to stare in my eyes.

"You are beautiful. You are the most beautiful girl in the world." he added, making my lips part. "I'm not the only one who thinks that. And you should think that, too."

Slowly. he turned me around and made me face the mirror. It brought a memory to my brain and I felt like I was back then, before we started dating, when he had brought me in front of the mirror at his place and had told me I was beautiful. Unfortunately, a few hours after that, he was having sex with Heidi in a bar. Could I really trust him? I looked up in his eyes from his reflection and he stared back, letting his hands slide down very slowly on my upper arms. I could trust him, right? Why would he lie about that?

"You're gorgeous." his voice was so low the only reason I heard him was because he had bent down and his lips were brushing on my ear. They moved down, reaching my neck as he brushed them on my skin, making a quiver cross my body. "I fucking love you."

I didn't expect his last words and for some reason, they're the ones that made all the throbbings of my body meet between my legs. I let out a low groan and felt his fingers slide gently to my waist, moving my shirt slightly up as his hands slipped under it.

"Fuck..." I whispered without thinking, feeling goosebumps appear where his fingertips brushed, surprising me as they also left a burning trail on my skin on their way. "Niall..."

"Yes petal?"

He was testing my self-control and if I had been as tipsy as I was at the club, I would let him run his hands all over me but I felt his teeth nibble on my neck and my eyes fluttered. I turned around before his hands reached my bra and sent him a small smile shaking my head.

"We can't..."

"Please, we totally can."

He grabbed my waist and pulled me up on the counter as I jumped a bit to help him and he moved between my legs. It was amazing how that fucking counter was exactly the right height for him to push his crotch between my legs and when I felt his bulge press on my inner thighs, I twitched and moaned.

"You're gonna wet your pants." I let out as he smirked.

"Are you already wet?" he chuckled, bending a bit to bring his mouth close to mine.

"Maybe." I whispered with a bigger smile. " And I don't have any panties, remember?"

"Fuck!" he let out a bit louder before crashing his mouth against mine.

"You guys having fun?"

I chuckled against Niall's lips when I recognized Louis' voice but kept my eyes closed as I pulled away.

"Go away, Lou." I just said with a smile.

"I was just checking on you two but you clearly don't need my help." he chuckled again and I could imagine the smirk he had on his lips.

"We don't! Bye!" Niall quickly let out, reaching for the door and swinging it closed.

I held my breath, a bit scared that Louis would be mad but I heard him laugh on the other side of the door and relaxed again as Niall brought his hands up, cupping my face, his fingers spread on my cheeks, jaw and neck.

"I feel like I would need to just skip the foreplay and fuck you until I cum inside you and only then I could really make love to you or fuck you properly." he admitted, pressing himself more against me. "You make me so fucking horny I don't think I'd last."

He still held my face for a while as we kissed before his hands let go of my cheeks to reach my naked thighs. I felt his fingers slip under my skirt and my lips parted at the thought of what he was doing. He sucked on my bottom lip and then started nibbling on it, making me feel suddenly dizzy. His hands moved up on my thighs, pushing my skirt up more and I started panting as my head tilted back.

"Oh my god."

It took me all my strength to reach for his hands and take them away from me as I moved myself back too. He tried to move with me to keep kissing me but I shook my head and he opened his eyes, staring at me.

"We can't. Fuck, you know we can't."

He stared at me a few seconds and finally nodded and stepped back. It made me realize how empty I felt when he was not close to me and I shivered, suddenly a bit cold. He reached for his pocket and took a joint out before handing it to me. My body was still throbbing with lust but I tried to stop thinking about it and frowned, reaching for it and taking it from his hand.

"Did you steal that from Louis?" I asked, a small smile playing on my lips.

"Gave it to me. Told me it could ease things between us or some shit like that." he laughed, pushing his hands in his pockets.

I knew he was trying to stay away from me the same way I was trying to stay away from him, at least physically. It was not easy and I knew it never would be. If we didn't end up together, which was clearly a possibility, being around each other was going to be an everyday challenge. Maybe we should fuck, if only to make all this sexual tension go away. Perhaps we'd be able to see clearer after... or maybe not.

"But you don't really smoke anymore, do you?"

He shrugged. "Rarely. I prefer alcohol."

"Me too."

I reached for my bra and took a lighter out, making Niall's face light up at the same time as I was lighting up my joint.

"What?"

"You keep a lighter in your bra?" he laughed and shook his head and I felt my heart skip a beat. I loved hearing him laugh. There was nothing I loved more.

"Not my fault this skirt doesn't have pockets!" I explained with a smile. "I don't really smoke either, but it was planned tonight so that's why I brought a lighter with me."

I inhaled and let the smoke invade my lungs before moving my face up to blow it away from him. He took a step closer and raised his eyebrows at me, making me frown.

"Do it." he just said, making me smile more.

"Wait, you want me to shotgun you? Wouldn't you rather get a beer from the fridge instead?"

"Fucking shotgun me, Olivia." he repeated seriously, surprising me before I just nodded.

He got closer and I inhaled from the joint again, making some sort of tunnel with my hands around our mouths and noses. It felt like I was telling him a secret and I exhaled as he breathed in deeply. I stared in his eyes the whole time and when I took my hands back, he cleared his throat.

"You know you have to stay here all night, right?" I just let out after a few minutes as he moved closer to do it an other time but this time, he pressed his open lips against mine as I pushed the smoke in his mouth.

I suspected he just wanted to be closer to me and I didn't mention it because I really enjoyed it, too. He moved away as he held his breath again to keep the smoke in and I tilted my head, not even ashamed that I was gazing.

"Why? It's not like I was driving. I can take a cab."

I raised my nose up in a grimace, making him laugh again. He was getting high and so was I and although I knew we should get back in the living room with everyone else, I just wanted to stay in this small room with him. I knew it was harder to resist if we were just the two of us but I didn't care at that point.

"I'm staying don't worry!" he exclaimed with an other chuckle. "Do you want to know what I've been obsessing about for the past 20 minutes?"

"Mm, please say it has to do with me."

I felt my heart jump at how bold my statement was and he laughed again, this time throwing his head back. His eyes were sparkling and I wanted nothing more than to cuddle him.

"It does." he admitted with a grin. "I've been thinking about your smell." I frowned and he kept going. "Your hair, it smells like a mix of vanilla and honey. I don't know if it's your shampoo, or your perfume, but it's always obsessed me. Since we came back from that tour. No one smells like you. And also..." he glanced at my thighs and looked back in my eyes. "You took your panties off and you're horny. I miss the smell of your wet pussy."

I choked on the smoke I was breathing and started coughing, making him laugh again.

"Shit, are you okay?" he kept laughing. "I'm so sorry!"

"Fucking hell, Horan!" I coughed again, hitting his chest lightly with my free hand. "Why did you say that?"

"Because it's true." he let out, sending me a small smile and raising his eyebrows. "I just want to get on my knees and eat you out."

"That's... not going to happen." I admitted with a smile, making him nod.

"Not tonight, I know."

The fact that he was so sure it would happen at some point made something stir in my stomach but at the same time, I couldn't tell him he was wrong. I was clearly not as sure as he was but thinking that I'd never feel his tongue between my legs again was a concept I couldn't grasp.

"Do you really think I'm pretty."

I had talked in a low and vulnerable voice without really realizing it and Niall's smile fell immediately. He took a step closer and bent down again to look in my eyes without touching me, as if doing that could stop me from focusing on what he was about to tell me.

"You're beautiful. And sexy, too." he let out firmly. "Your self-confidence that you took so long to build can falter because you're human and it's not easy, I get it. But me? My speech won't change. Ever. I'm always going to be there to remind you that you're gorgeous when your confidence isn't as high as it should be. I swear on my life."

I felt myself tear up again and sniffed, my gaze never leaving his. Suddenly, I wondered how the hell I lived over a year without this wonderful man in my life. My heart was threatening to jump out of my rib cage and I pressed my lips together as I felt tears slide down my cheeks. I let them, too concentrated on the way his lips moved and the way his soft voice reached my ears like a fucking melody. It only took him a few seconds to wipe them from my face again and send me a fond smile.

"You're the strongest person I know." he admitted, making me smile but sniff again. "Are you tired?"

I nodded and he helped me get off the counter before grabbing my hand and opening the door slightly and slowly, making sure no one would hear. I held my breath in as if they could actually hear me breathe and followed him in the hall as he walked up to my room. I closed the door behind us very slowly and locked it before pushing the air out of my lungs with a chuckle. I knew it was bad but I just wanted to spend time with Niall and no one else. We had spent so long separated and I wanted to make up for lost time.

Without a word, we both lied down on the bed, facing each other. We were so close that I could only see his face and it's all that mattered. I felt my eyes flutter from time to time but tried to resist slumber. I wanted to look at him all night. He didn't say anything. He just brought his hand to my face, pushing a lock of hair away from my eye before brushing his fingertips on my cheek and jaw. It felt incredible and I squirmed a bit to get closer to him as he wrapped his arm around me.

I didn't know when I fell asleep but when I woke up, we were both laying sideways on the bed, over the covers and cuddling. I never sleep without blankets since I'm always cold but this time, I was surprisingly not and I smiled when I realized it was because Niall's body kept me warm. My eyes opened slowly and my lips curled even more when I saw him. He was sleeping peacefully and I licked my lips before brushing my nose slowly and gently against his. He groaned a bit before squeezing me tighter against him and open his eyes.

"I need a shower, wanna come with?" I smiled at his proposition and shook my head, making him shrug. "Was worth a try."

He sat up and I turned on my back, looking at him again before he glanced at me.

"Can I borrow some of Louis' clothes again?"

"Yea, I'll see if there's some clean ones in the laundry room." I replied as I stretched and laughed. "There's no way I'm walking in his room."

Niall got up and I couldn't take my eyes off of him as he took his pants and shirt off.

"You're staring again, aren't you?" he asked, his back facing me.

"Mm, maybe." I confessed as he started laughing again.

It took me longer than I thought to find clean sweatpants and shirt and when I reached the bathroom, I noticed the door was ajar. I pushed on it slightly, feeling a bit like a creep but finally leaning on the frame to listen to him. He was singing a song I didn't know and when he reached a higher note, it made something jump in my chest.

"Feels like every time I turn a corner, you're standing right there, over my shoulder, you're everywhere, I swear it's hard to think, it's hard to breathe when you're in the air, I try to run, but you're everywhere I go! When I think I'm all alone, and my heart's under control! Why is loving you not fair? You're everywheeeere!"

I chuckled but he didn't hear me and it made me realize how much I loved him. I already knew, of course I did, and I had for a long time, but nothing had prepared me for the feelings I had inside of me at that exact moment. Hearing him sing also made me think about that album he had written about me and about how many times I had streamed it since he told me. It was a bit pathetic. I left the clothes on the counter next to the sink and left to get changed into clean clothes too and make coffee. Everyone was still asleep and I was drinking from my favorite mug when Niall appeared. I could get used to seeing him every morning.

"I have something to do today." he just pointed out, opening the cabinet to grab a mug too and fill it with coffee. "I have to talk to Heidi."

My lips parted and I had to swallow the lump in my throat.

"About... what?"

He stopped everything and frowned at me. "About us, what else? It's time I break things with her. This is getting ridiculous and I just-"

"No." I cut him, making him frown even more. "Don't."

He put his cup away and moved closer to me, shaking his head. I couldn't tell if he was mad or confused but when he stood in front of me, I felt myself tear up.

"Niall I'm.. I'm getting married." I just pointed out, not really sure of what I was really going to do anymore.

"What? You're not serious." he let out as I remained motionless, just staring at him. "Are you telling me that everything that happened in the past few weeks don't count?"

No, of course that's not what I meant. It counted. In fact, it counted so much that I couldn't see straight anymore. I didn't have any rational thoughts anymore and my heart was swollen with love for a man who had broken my heart, a man I was not even sure I could trust. What told me that he wouldn't leave again after a few months, when the passion would be gone?

"That's not what I said just... wait before telling her." I repeated. "Please."

His eyes moved on me and I could see how hurt he was and if I wanted to be honest, saying those words probably hurt me as much as it hurt him to hear them.

"Fine." he let out rudely. "I know where the door is."

My heart was telling me to stop him but everything else was telling me to let him go. I felt myself tear up when the front door closed roughly and I swallowed again. I had no idea of what I was supposed to do, all I knew was that I had to do it quick.

----

"Fuck I missed you!"

Dylan hadn't even stopped at his place when he landed, he just took a cab to my place and walked in without knocking. Seeing his face for the first time in weeks made me smile and he opened his arms as I threw myself in them, feeling suddenly guilty as he engulfed me in a tight hug.

"I begged them for a few days off, they gave me two." he said when he pulled away, bringing his lips against mine and kissing me hard a few times. "Please, come with me."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I was not expecting that proposition and frankly, I was not sure I was interested. Especially after everything that had happened while he was gone. Still, I thought maybe, if I left with him, it could take Niall out of my mind. It was not likely but maybe it was worth trying?

"I can't, you know I have work here." I explained, bringing my arms around his neck and tilting my head.

"You can write even on the other side of the planet, you know."

My lips curled in a fond smile as he sent me an amused look.

"I'll think about it."

He nodded and chuckled, throwing his bag away and making me step back as his smile turned into a smirk. I knew where he was bringing me and somehow, I felt guilty again.

"So, how much did you miss me?"

My smile faltered a bit but I quickly brought it back on my face. Playing a double life was not something I actually enjoyed and when we reached my room, I waited until he closed the door behind us to bring my hand to his cheeks.

"We need to talk."

He frowned and shook his head quickly. "Mmhm, no." he protested with worry in his voice. "It's about Niall, isn't it?"

I felt so nervous I started being nauseous but I quickly nodded as he sighed and closed his eyes, letting go of me and turning around, his back facing me. He brought his hands to his head and waited a few more seconds before turning back to me. I wanted to cry but I felt like I didn't have the right to.

"I don't want to know."

His answer surprised me and I frowned. "No, Dylan, it's important, I need to tell you something." I argued, taking a step closer as he scoffed.

"No! I don't want to know, Olivia!" he repeated louder this time. "I don't want to know if you kissed him! I don't want to know if you fucked him! I'll just assume you did! But we're getting married, so whatever you need to sort out with him, do it, and then, meet me at the altar. Then, it's you and me, okay? Just us."

I was so shocked I actually forgot how to move and talk. He just stared at me and sighed again, rubbing his eyes.

"After that night at his place I just.. You know, I didn't realize just how intense and important that story with him had been. Maybe I didn't want to know." he explained, his tone more gentle. "But I love you, and I want this to work, so... September is not so far."

"Dyl, you can't, for a second, think that this makes any sense."

"I've been thinking non-stop about this. Whenever I had a few minutes of free time, I would think about it. I tried to think of what would hurt me the most, you know? Losing you for a while, or losing you forever."

I teared up again and my face twisted in pain as I brought my hand on my mouth.

"I don't deserve you." I just let out before sobbing.

"Clearly, you don't." he let out, half joking as I noticed he was crying too.

I laughed sadly too and he pulled me closer, taking me so tightly in his arms that I could barely breathe.

"Do you still love me, Olivia?"

I shut my eyes tight and buried my face in his shirt. I was in love with Niall. He was my soulmate, the love of my life... but that didn't alter the feelings I had for Dylan.

"Yes. I still love you."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall hoan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #my fanfics #yam #theres prob many mistakes im super tired #well fingers crossed for ppl to like this chapter

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elfenbensord · 5 years ago

Text

star crossed lovers

written: 26.1.20-8.2.20

word count: 6.5 k (ish)

note: wrote this for @writingsoftheloser’s 1.5 writing challenge! check her lovely blog out!

attention reader! your nickname is now puck, after one of the characters in shakespeare’s ‘a midsummer dream’. welcome to your new life, puck.

prompt: lavender - devotion, virtue

characters: adult!remus lupin x adult!reader

masterlist / blurb masterlist / requests n asks

---

1984

“What about this one?” Remus waved the fresh copy of Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ in front of his friend’s nose.

“Please, no. I can’t stand that one...”, her eyes rolled in a dramatic gesture.

“Really? Didn’t you do this one at drama school?”

“Exactly.” She slapped the book away, making a face. “Doing a show kind of ruins it for forever.”

Remus took the opportunity to raise an eyebrow, “How unfortunate for you. I, however, find it to be a charming play.”

“Sure. But I was a pretty good Puck.”

“You were marvelous.”

He was trying to stay focused on organizing the shelf in front of him, but his slightly over tired brain was much more interested in continuing her jests. She was sat on top of the counter, helping him very little. “Well, you wouldn’t know. Since you didn’t come to see me.”

“Well, then I’m sure you were marvelous.” A few more books stacked against each other, filling up the empty space of the soon-to-be book shop.

“Damn right I was.”

He sighed, finding his focus defeated by her. “I’m still waiting for the day when you’ll discover humility.”

Her sudden laugh filled the empty shelves, “You’ll have to still waiting.”

“It’s called ‘keep waiting’. Or ‘continue waiting’.”

“Maybe it is. Not my fault your language is malfunctioning.”

He sometimes forgot that she isn’t from here. She seems like such a natural part of his life, he could never imagine living without her snarky comments and home-made words.

“Wouldn’t be my fault either. Do I look Anglo-Saxon to you?”

“Dunno”, she prodded a finger into his chest, not entirely gently. “But you’re supposed to be a librarian.”

He moved her hand away, “Correction: I’m a bookkeeper now.”

She grabbed the nearest book out of one of the boxes on the soon-to-be counter, slapping him not-too-gently on the head with it.

“Careful!” his sudden protest took her by surprise, just in time for him to grab the copy from her hands. “That is a first edition of Jane Ëyre, it isn’t for slapping people in the head with!”

Her hands flew up in a defensive manner, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

Remus inspected the old copy of Jane Ëyre, anxious to find any scratch or dent in its textile bound cover.

“Stop making eyes with that dust. It makes you look, like, half a century older.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her comment. Setting down the book on top of one of the boxes, he said, “You think I’ll still look this good at 74?”

“Not some chance.” “Not a chance.”

“Gotcha!”

Another involuntary laugh on his behalf. “Come on, we need to empty these boxes by lunch time.”

“You have a schedule for everything, Lupin.”

“One of us needs to, Puck.”

She frowned at her old nickname, it only brought memories of long nights of studying lines written far too many centuries ago and caffeine-overdoses. “... Now you’re just being rude.”

“How about ‘we complete each other’?”

“That’s quite an interesting take.”

“So I’m interesting now?”

Opening one of the boxes containing yet another batch of books in need of a good dusting, he could hear her mumbling, “You’re a pain, that’s what you are.”

“If you finish those books by one o’clock, we can visit that Indian place on the corner. My treat.”

Her eyes lit up, “Why didn’t you say so before?”

He could only smile.

---

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Lavender Books and Records!”

A familiar laugh reached his ears. “You can calm down with your fake charm, it’s only me.”

He pretended to be offended, “Who said my charm is fake? I reckon I’m quite charming on most days…”

“Yeah, it’s definitely fake.” She made sure to dramatically sigh and sit down on one of the book stacks by the counter.

“That’s not for sitting o-”, Remus tried to protest, but it was too late. He was rewarded only by a glare. In reply, he turned his charm up another 100 percent. “I hope your day was as lovely as you are?”

She picked up a book from one of the piles near her, pretending to be interested in its contents. “It was quite alright. But I’m very interested in what you think you’re getting with this sweet talk?”

“Dinner. It’s your turn to cook tonight.” He didn’t bother to look up at her, he already knew too well how she’d react. Lightly frowned eyebrows, slightly parted mouth, a playful look in her eyes.

“And what makes you think that?”

He glanced at her, finding her reaction to be exactly what he’d guessed. Bingo.

“My carefully planned out dinner schedule does.”

“Oh, really.”

“Also, I’ve made dinner the last three days.”

She closed the book in her hands. “That’s a lie.”

“No, it isn’t”, he replied calmly, returning to the order of books in front of him.

“We went to the Italian restaurant two nights ago.”

“Which I paid for.”

“... Damn it, you’re right.”

The bell above the wooden door dinged loudly, announcing the introduction of a new customer.

Putting down her book, the renowned Puck looked up to smile at the fresh blood. “Good afternoon, and welcome to Lavender Books and Records!”

Remus could only smile at her antics, before looking up at the customer. “How may we help you?”

---

“You really should cook more often.” He couldn’t help but tease her.

The kitchen was still a mess, a small price to pay for over-cooked pasta with slightly burnt tomato sauce.

“Shut up.”

They found their way to their three-people sofa, like they always seemed to do once it got later. It was much too small for three, even two. They usually solved it by half-sitting, half-lying, arms and legs randomly strew across.

“I’m thinking about hiring someone.”

“For sexual favours? Darling, you only needed to ask.”

“Didn’t know you’re a legitimized stripper.”

“What do you think all that extra rehearsal time after school was for?”

Her comment earned a loud sigh from Remus, before he moved on to what he actually had set out to say. “I meant someone to help around the shop.”

“Then why’re you asking me about it?”

“Dunno. You’re my best friend, I suppose I just wanted your opinion on the matter.”

“Hmm. I think you should hire someone really sexy, so you could extend your target age to a few years younger than 50.”

“Or perhaps a few years older? Depending on how blonde she is, of course.”

“... Or he.”

“Fair point.”

They could go on for forever. Bickering, embroidering each other’s jokes. It’d been like that for too long, they didn’t know what to do with themselves. Or what to do with each other. They fell asleep together that night, on the sofa for two.

---

The worn-out copy of Orwell’s ‘Animal Farm’ witnessed about the many nights Remus had sacrificed for Mr. Orwell’s well-known fable. Several parts of the text were underlined, commented on, or simply washed out by the emotions he’d experience the first, second, and tenth time he’d read the book.

“I’m all done, you ready to go?” The voice of his friend made him reluctantly put down the paperback.

“Just a few more pages? I’m almost done with the chapte-”

“What’s with you and that damn book?”

He didn’t want to respond, finding her voice too harsh.

Her eyes were frowned, lost of their usual spark. “I tried to read it once, and it’s all just talking pigs and horses and “all animals are equal”... “, she stuttered for a while, falling in and out of her own language. In loss of what to say, she burst out: “How it can mean anything else than just animals fucking around?”

He knew her like this sometimes. After all these years, he knew her well. But he was rarely on the receiving end of her frustration, her endless exhaustion. But he still felt he didn’t know her well enough to know what to do, or what she wanted him to say.

“How did it go?”, he stalked her her around the corner of the theatre, speeding up to keep up with her fast steps. “Your audition, how was it?”

Her eyes are not what they usually are. Shine slightly dulled, movements lazy and strained.

“How was it?”

“Shut up.” A demand, a need, rather than a request. She doesn’t care for manners; she rarely ever did.

“... Are you alright?”

Breathed out through gritted teeth, “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Trying to grab her hand, he tried to slow her fast pace. “Hey, hey. What’s up?”

Her tears were audible through her strained voice. “Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s happened!”

“... Can we just go home, please?”

He finally found into her eyes, and could easily read her mind. “You didn’t get the part, do you?”

Anger pushed her eyebrows downwards, tears forcing their way out. Her figure collapsed against the concrete wall of the building near the pavement, face crumpling into a caricature of her own particular beauty. Curses flew out of her mouth, melting into a shameful spot on the dirty concrete. Choppy, angry, breaths, mixed with sniffling and desperate noises. “I fucked up. Again.”

Then she fell against him. Shocked by the added weight upon him, he struggled to keep himself upright. They stumbled against each other for a moment, both fighting not to fall, before they finally found each other in a tight embrace.

Remus found himself longing to make her pain cease. He wanted to turn back to that audition hall, find the people in charge and strangle them with his bare hands. Her arms tight around him made him realise he would gladly sacrifice every first edition he owned to see her happy again. Forget first editions - every book he owned. Burn them all, for a simple lift of the corners of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Puck”, his hands desperate to dry her tears away. “I’m so sorry.”

Her hands found his, grasping them to have something to hold on to. Her curses were out, her body empty of anger for the moment. Their breathing was starting to sync into slow, almost forced, breaths.

In, out. In out.

He slowly brought her hands up to place a kiss on them. Something deep in his heart started to sprout slowly, dearly, readying for new life to begin.

“Thank you”, muffled by the fabric of his coat. She stayed in his arms longer, just to feel the weight of his care on her. To smell his kindness. She had always felt drawn to him, bound by loyalty which could never be denied him. Like a lover. Or a dog.

She pulled away from him to stand upright by herself. Once her breathing had evened out , she found the strength to ask, “Are you a dog person or a cat person?”

An easy laugh forced its way out of his mouth “What?”

“Cats or dogs?”

“Why do you need to know?”

The glimmer in her eyes was beginning to catch fire again. “Just answer me?”

He took a moment to think, so he could stay honest to her with his every word. After a minute or so, “Dogs. Definitely dogs.”

Her smile finally appeared, and the world could begin again.

---

The theatre called her back a week later.

She got the part.

---

1980

“Hey, anyone in there?” were the first words she said to him.

Remus almost fell off the small stool he used to restock the taller shelves of the Tempest Library. The stack of heavy scripts in his arms didn’t make balancing any easier, and he found himself looking like a fool for a second. She also thought he looked quite stupid, but wouldn’t only tell him so until a few hours later.

She reached out a hand to help him steady himself. And suddenly, the two had gone from strangers to quite unlikely acquaintances. He coughed once, twice. “Thank you.”

He’d never met someone so bold with introductions. No fumbling, no insecure glances. Sure eyes and a secure handshake, and suddenly they were friends.

“Sorry, were you looking for something?”

She seemed to size him up, inspecting the dust from the archived books on his arms, trying to find out what she thought of him already. Remus’ face changed to a redder shade at the thought of his disheveled hair, and the too cheery “Hello! My name is…” sign pinned onto the front of his jumper. Seemingly unaware of his knowledge of what she was doing, she took her time to get a good look of him. It ended with a small nod of her head, and brilliant eyes meeting his. “Have you got anything by Shakespeare?”

Remus felt more comfortable stepping into the role of librarian - it felt safer than realizing that this meeting would change his life. “Of course, you’ll find the Bard in our drama section.”

“... And that is?

“In isle G.” He tried to smile, but she still didn’t seem content with his answer.

“Do I have to get it myself, or is it really true that you can just conjure it up with your librarian-granted magic?”

His laugh was unexpected, even to himself. “It isn’t true, I’m afraid. But I’ll gladly show you isle G.”

The walk there seemed longer than the 30 metres it actually was. “Was it any particular text you were looking for?”

She eagerly looked around the different isles containing shelves of books about most subject on each and every letter in the alphabet. “Wow”, her hand went to remove some bothering hairs from her eyes. “You really have a lot of books here.”

“Well, it is a library.”

“Whatever. D’you know have many there are in here?.”

“It’s over 2000, at least. And that’s excluding the archive.”

“How d’you know?”

“I’ve counted them. Or tried to.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. Several quick breaths, a few snorting sounds. That’s what her laugh sounded like in the beginning. At some point, after a few weeks or even months, it would become a sound to lift him up on hopeless days.

They finally reached their destination: isle G, the drama section. S for Shakespeare. “What were you looking for?”

“... Something about summer and dreaming. I can’t remember what my professor said-”

She turned quiet once she saw the book in front of her. Remus held up ‘A Midsummer Night's Dream’, looking at her with expectant eyes. “Could this be it?”

“‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’... That does sound familiar.”

He was surprised that she had nothing more to say. Though he’d only been aware of her existence for no more than what could be five minutes, he found himself thinking he’d known her much longer.

“What kind of title is that, though?”

He had to stop himself from smiling. There it was. Bingo.

He cleared his throat, trying to get back to reality. “Is there any particular reason as to why you’re seeking this particular book?”

“I’m doing an audition, and my professor said I need a bit of background info first.”

“Cool. Who’re you gonna play?”

“Dunno. Haven’t read it yet, have I?”

He noticed how she moved. A curious thing, perhaps, for a newly-found friend to notice. But it was hard not to notice. She almost moved like a cartoon character. Moving her body around in an exaggerated manner, like she was being observed by a larger audience. Like she was performing her own life to a crowd. And it became obvious that the spotlight belonged to her, and only her.

He cleared his throat again, “So I’m guessing you’re here to borrow it?”

“Well, it’d be a bit hard to do my homework otherwise.”

“You’ll need a library card to do that, but I’m happy to help you apply for one.”

“How can you know that I don’t already have one?

Because it seems like you’ve never set your foot in a library before.

“I just… I listened to what you said, and… Sorry, do you have a library card?”

“No, I don’t. Could you help me get one?”

Remus was relieved to find the conversation somewhere familiar once again. “Of course, I’ll just need your name and your phone number.”

“This sounds a lot like something a stalker would say, but I’ll take the risk since I really want to get a good role.”

He didn’t know whether or not he was in a position to laugh at what she’d just said. Was it a joke on him? A joke on her? A joke to herself only?

“Please laugh”, that hint of joy in her eyes again, “otherwise I’ll just feel stupid.”

“Wouldn’t want that to happen.”

“No one’s ever died from a little stupid.”

“I believe it’s called ‘stupidity’.”

“I believe I just proved my own point.”

“Well, to be fair, lots of people have died from their own stupidity on lots of occasions.”

A broad arm gesture, “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point then?”

“Do you still want my phone number?”

“Well, I’ll need it for the library card.”

“Okay. D’you have a pen and some paper, or will I have to use the book?”

He handed her a pencil and a piece of paper from his back pocket, happy to finally get some use of them. “Please don’t use the book. I think people here have been fired for less than scribbling.”

After a quick signature in barely readable hand-writing, he handed her two notes.

“This one”, she gave him the first note, “is for the damn library card.”

“And this one’s”, she gave him the second note, “is for you.”

She grabbed the book and placed it in her backpack, getting ready to head of to her next adventure. Before she left him, “You can call me about Shakespeare or something tonight.”

---

The connection sparked, “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t think you’d call.” It almost sounded like an accusation, coming from her in a slightly harsh tone. It was hard to tell when her face wasn’t available.

“How come?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you think I’d call.”

“Didn’t seem like the type.”

“The type to call?”

“The type to do anything exciting.”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

“Sorry if I’m a bit rude right now”, she shuffled the phone from one ear to the other. “It’s the way I am.”

“Well, that sounds…”

“Alarming?”

“Honest.”

“Wow.”

“Did I manage to surprise you again?”

“Yes. Yes, you did.”

Their breathing almost synced, before she said, “You’re pretty cool.”

And he felt she really meant it. He’d soon come to realize she meant everything she said. Most times, at least. And he’d come to love it.

“So are you.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

The connection ended. Remus sat still for a moment, not really knowing what he thought. Had he been expecting something else? And then her words came back to his mind, “See you tomorrow.”

There would be a tomorrow including her. And perhaps a day after that. And perhaps even the days after that. And slowly, he started to see how his life could change. And he thought it was pretty cool.

---

He waited for her the next day.

And the next.

And soon he had to send her a late notice for the book she’d unofficially borrowed.

---

The light outside the library became dull, heading towards complete darkness. Remus looked longingly towards the tall windows, wishing he could be on his way home. He had a few chapters left of ‘The Great Gatsby’, and he could barely wait until he could finish it later that evening.

A not too familiar voice cut through the thick silence: “If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck… ”

She could not continue after that. He restrained himself from a loud sigh, finding it impolite to do so. He then wondered if she’d find it impolite, or if she really cared about politeness at all.

“Good evening, honest Puck.” He looked up from the book report on the library counter before him.

Her eyes betrayed her wish to stay cold and collected, “I’m sorry.”

The book was in her hands, along with a piece of paper. She looked at him with hopeful eyes as she handed him the script back.

He handled the book, searching to find any new imperfections. His eyes met hers. “This is a week late.”

“... I’m sorry about that too.”

“I should charge you for that. It’s my job, after all.”

“I don’t think you will.”

He hated how she knew him already. “No. I won’t.”

In a desperate attempt to continue the conversation in some other direction, “I take it you got the part as Puck?”

“Understudy.”

“Does this mean I’ll have to murder someone?”

She laughed, “Thanks, but I like to kill my own enemies.”

“Perhaps a minor accident? Nothing too serious, just serious enough…”

She laughed again. “I hope you’ll come see it, even if I’m not in it. I can get you tickets if you’d like.”

Her offer wasn’t very tempting to him. “Sure.”

She gently rolled on the balls of her feet, not able to keep still for more than a second. “When d’you get off tonight?”

This offer was more to his liking. “Late.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Will you?”

“I will.”

“I don’t believe you”, he started looking at the report again, hoping he looked cold and collected. She thought he did. “But I’m eager to have you surprise me.”

She wrinkled her nose, finding his sentence too perplexing to care. “I’ll call you.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m occupied elsewhere.”

“And where might that be?”

“In the works of F. Scotts Fitzgerald.”

“Who’s that? Your uncle?”

“No”, he was confused by her confusion. “He’s an author.”

“Well I haven’t heard of him.”

“It seems like you haven’t heard of a lot of things.”

It was meant as a thought, but it slipped out of his mouth before he could restrain himself. Her reaction to the insult-like statement was even curiouser.

Laughter. It lit up the dim room, and made the sun want to crawl back onto the sky. “Good talking to you, Remus. I’ll call you.”

---

A few beeps before connection.

“Hello.”

“I’m surprised.”

“Gotcha. Now you’re never ever getting rid of me.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

‘The Great Gatsby’ was put aside for the rest of the night, and he was forced to reschedule his entire life for her phone calls to fit.

It doesn’t sound so bad at all…

---

1984

“D’you wanna go to this weird art exhibition?” She leaned over his reading, stealing away the light from the kitchen table. This was the tenth time he tried to finish ‘The Great Gatsby’ with no apparent success.

He was forced to meet her eyes, “Come again?”

“Not right now, I’m still a bit sore.” She was laughing halfway through her own joke.

It earned her an eye roll from him. “You know what I meant. And you should also know that your mind disgusts me.”

“Thank you. Wanna go now?”

“I’m sorry, but my evening is unfortunately occupied elsewhere.”

Another sentence she didn’t care for, “... Meaning?”

He returned to his book, wanting to seem suave or something like it. “I’ve got a date.”

“Like a… ”, she needed a few moments to comprehend, her arms and eyebrows everywhere, “a real date? A human date?”

“... I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Sorry, but I didn’t know that rat-haired librarians were in such demand.”

He looked up to see her smile. “Actually, you’d be surprised.”

“What? Are you saying that you’ve turned down dates?”

A nod of his head, he could feel his confidence growing. “A few.”

She moved closer to him, “What’re you hiding, Lupin?”

He laughed, “Nothing, Puck.”

Crossing her arms, “Where are all these girlfriends then? Or boyfriends?”

“I just-”, he found himself in search of the words he wanted to say, something which rarely occurred to him. “I just didn’t feel like it.”

“Didn’t feel like it? That’s sounds like absolute bullsh-”

His hand quickly reached to cover her mouth, “Mind your words, please.”

She hit his hand away, revealing a smile. “Sure, Mr. Anglo-Saxon.”

“Hmm. I do love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“Hmm. I really wonder what your date will think of that.”

After a moment, her curiosity won. Bright, curious eyes,“Who is it?”

“You don’t know her-”, he tried again to seem collected. He’d never really mastered the effect, even with all the practice he put it.

“Maybe I do. You don’t know about all my social circles.”

He had to smile, “Dear, we make out the majority of each other’s social circles.”

“Fair point. But who is she?”

“If you must know… Her name is Alice.”

She was practically hanging off of him now, “And how did you meet?”

His cheeks flushed at her closeness. It wasn’t anything new, she’d been too close and too fast from the very beginning. But it never failed to make him change shade to a much redder one. “She’s been helping around the shop for a while now.”

“... I didn’t think you were that desperate.” She slid away from him.

He already missed her arms around him. “Now you’re really being rude.”

“Hmm.” She didn’t regret it. Something about the fact that her best friend would spend an evening without her bothered her. It made her words harsh and unguarded, which she almost always regretted afterwards. Especially if it was Remus. Which is was in this case, and many other.

“Guess I’ll go to the exhibition alone, then.”

He found the clock on the wall, realising how late the hour was. As he stood up and moved to reach for his winter coat, he suddenly found himself afraid of looking too nonchalant. “You do that. Tell me how it was once I get back tonight.”

“Not planning to spend the night with Heather? Or how about the rest of your life... ”

“Hannah. Her name is Hannah.” He closed the last buttons, then wrapped a scarf around his freckled neck. “And I might consider it, seeing as your acting is nothing more than unpleasant.”

“Fine. You do that. Not like I care.”

Please, stay here with me instead.

“It seems like you do.”

“I don’t.”

I already miss you.

“Okay. Goodnight.”

She didn’t say goodnight back.

Remus stayed the night with Hannah, discussing ‘The Great Gatsby’. Hannah never realised he hadn’t finished the book. He almost wished she did. Wished she’d called him out on it, so he could answer with a clever comeback.

He wished he’d stayed at home.

---

She was eating breakfast when he tried to open the door as quietly as possible. “You’re up already? Isn’t this your day off”, he tried to act normal, but he couldn’t remember how. Chugging off his coat, he asked, “How was the art show?”

She tried to find some way of conveying how sorry she was. Sorry for the bitter words, sorry for her uncaring way of the night before. No words fit the purpose, and she found herself staring at her friend instead.

“Are you quite alright?”

Somewhere within, she felt a twinge of something. Like a small thorn, pricking away at her insides. Putting down her bowl of cereal, she eliminated the few metres between them. His cheeks were still rosy from the cold outside, and she noticed how his eyes were just a little bit clearer.

She didn’t shy away from his glance as she said it, “I’m sorry.”

Remus could never stay mad at her for longer than ten minutes. If she’d been particularly impossible, that time could stretch into twenty. He’d realized this far too early in their time of knowing each other.

“I know.”

Her arms slid around him, and she was relieved to find him open for her. “I’m sorry. But I probably meant it.”

His limbs turned soft, his shoulders relaxing. He hadn’t realized he was so tense without her. “I know.”

“How was your date?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“How was the art show?”

“I didn’t go.”

“Why not?”

“Things aren’t as fun without you.”

He found his comebacks to fit right into her sentences. “Good for me.”

“Good for you.”

They were content to hold each other in silence for a few seconds.

“Wanna eat breakfast together out?” she suggested.

His eyebrows drew closer together, a smile already appearing on his face. “You just had breakfast. And I had breakfast at Hannah’s.”

“Yeah. But we haven’t had breakfast together yet.”

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

Their lives - and their life - was quickly mended again over blueberry muffins and tea.

---

Another evening, a few days later. Puck paced back and forth in the living room. Their living room. Thought moving too quickly in her head for her to understand any of them. Her shoulders relaxed, pace slowed, as she heard keys jammed into the lock of the door. Remus entered, bright eyes and rosy cheeks. His arms were occupied by stack of books and a paper bag full of the night’s dinner.

“They didn’t have those muffins you asked for, but I think I managed to find something like it-”, he was mid conversation when he noticed her angry complexion, her worried pace.

“What’s going on here?”

She started to walk faster again, words falling out of her mouth at a too fast speed. “So, I was talking to Lily-”

“Really? How’s James? And have they decided on a name for the baby yet?”

“Didn’t say. I think they’re going for something like Henry? I can’t remember… Where was I?”

He moved inside the flat, putting the books and bags down on the kitchen table. “... You were talking to Lily?”

“Right! But what she said was that she could never see us two dating…”

He looked up, confused and worried by her. “Sorry, I’m not really following. What did she say?”

“She said we could never date.” It fired out of her, an explosion of syllables.

“And why is that so bad?”

Her face fell into sadness. It was one of the few times he’d seen her genuinely sad, and he found it hurt his heart. He moved towards her, wondering if a hug would be the right thing to do. She stopped to look at him, before she continued, “... Doesn’t matter. But isn’t that a weird thing to say? I mean, we get along fine!”

He chickened out of a hug, and settled for gentle touching her arm instead, moving them both to sit down on the sofa in the living room. “We get along marvelously, darling. You’re my absolute best friend.”

Her face was already lighting up, thoughts settling once again. What was she ever worried about? “And you’re my best friend in the whole wide world.”

The smirk on his face implied a lot of things.

She took one look at him, restoring back to herself again. “Get that stupid smile off your stupid face.” Closing her eyes, she let a smile consume her own face again. “Or else I’ll have to give you a black eye, or something.”

Threats never worked on him, she was well aware of that. His head fell onto her shoulder. “You seem very upset about this. Any particular reason as to why?”

She quickly turned explosive again. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date tonight?”

“... No?”

“Hmm. So Miss Perfect decided to spare you this night?”

He moved away from her, standing up and crossing the room to find the open kitchen. Their open kitchen. “You know, sometimes you’re not very nice at all.”

“And?”

“Exactly.”

He couldn’t bare her taking more of his energy. “I think I’ll take a walk.”

“Would you like company?”

“No. I’d rather be alone.”

Ouch.

“There’s food in the bag.”

“Okay.”

She shouted a half-hearted “Bye” as she saw him go, missing him already. The mix of feelings inside of her made her forehead wrinkle and her eyebrows stoop down.

He never did things on whims, but the feelings which resided in him overwhelmed him. They did that when she was around. “I’m thinking about moving out.”

If he’d seen her eyes, he would’ve seen the deepest of fears.

Her hair covered her eyes. “What?”

“Yeah. See you.”

We get along just fine.

---

REMUS

Remus stared at the ceiling above him. Her words seemed to get to him tonight more than he thought they would. He was often confused by her. But this time felt different. This time, he wished he’d understood her. What had she been talking about? Lily and them not being a good couple? And why had she been so upset by it?

Perhaps…

A thought, an old hope, was lit up once again. Old dreams of holding hands, sharing food, sharing life, started to replay in his head. Parallel in his mind, was what he deemed reality. The times when she wouldn’t listen, when her sharp words hurt. Her selfishness.

We get along just fine.

He wondered, was it really true? Or was it something he’d tried to convince himself of these past years?

A thought passed his mind. A thought he often found himself playing with. Why not just leave?

Leave her and her sharp tongue. Her childish ways. Her selfish priorities. Leave her and her honesty. Her lovely laugh. Her whimsical world.

He could never leave her.

The old flame inside his chest was lit again, and it became harder to put out, to bury, after each time. The glow shuddered, only to burn even brighter. Would she come running after him? He wasn’t sure. He could only hope. He’d read too many novels in his life to know what was truly realistic. To know what life is really like. He wondered, did he want to know? All he wanted, all he knew, was her.

Leave her?

He woke up - he could never do that. He wouldn’t know where to start. Sure, she was infuriating at best. But wasn’t he as well? Weren’t they a match like the ones in Shakespeare’s plays? Spare the deaths and woes, he only wanted her company. So they could have their happy ending. Happily ever after. Or for a short time, at least. Until one of them pissed the other off. And then they’d apologise, and the cycle would repeat. They’d live like hell, and love even more. It would be wonderful. They wouldn’t always get along, but it wouldn’t matter.

A pair of star-cross'd lovers can begin their life.

---

PUCK

She’d felt the need to breath. The air inside the flat didn’t seem like enough. The air outside, in the small park around the corner, wasn’t enough either.

We get along just fine.

He was the best person she’d ever met. He was kind. And smart. He was good-hearted and honest and so all things wonderful. And whenever she saw him, all she felt about him became so much, and she didn’t know where to go. So she’d explode every now and then. She’d thought he could stand it. Sometimes, she even thought he liked it. But it seemed it wasn’t so. Perhaps it never was.

Perhaps...

---

They found each other a few hours later.

She’d never seen him so sure. He was having tea, reading something by Shakespeare, at the kitchen table.

“Hi.”

Was he always this good-looking?

“Greetings to thee.” He just wanted to smile at her. But he didn’t find it the right time.

Surely, it must be a trick of the light, she thought. Or just her tired eyes seeing something else. Light brown hair, slightly ruffled in the way only he could do it. The most perfect face shape - and Godrick, that jawline. Long, freckled nose. Eyes she wished only she knew. Was this really her friend? Or had someone taken her dear Remus’ place when she was sleeping?

She felt a sudden need to say something nice. Something friendly, like “I love you”. Quick, “How… are you?”

“How am I?”

“Yes. How are you?”

“I’ve known you for… four years”, he looked up at her with his kind eyes, a smile finally taking form. “And I don’t think you’ve ever asked me that.”

She gave him a look.

“Well then. I’m quite anxious on this Saturday morning.”

“About?”

“Something very important.”

“Hmm. I hope it’ll turn out alright for you.”

“So do I.”

His eyes were so honest. It struck her like a spotlight. She loved the way he looked at her. He was all the audience she needed.

“We should...”

Make out?

“...talk.”

Her eyes didn’t betray her mind for once, “Ok. You could… ”

Kiss you?

“... meet me after rehearsal?”

He masked his disappointment flawlessly. “Sure. When d’you get off?”

“At nine, hopefully.” She found her script and slid it into a backpack. She shrugged on her ragged jeans jacket, adding a scarf for warmth and comfort. The early spring outside wasn’t too kind to freezing souls.

“Fine. I’ll meet you then.”

“See you!”

---

ROMEO

She speaks:

O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head

As is a winged messenger of heaven

Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.

JULIET

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name;

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

---

They met outside in the park outside the theatre.

She: “You know, I’m in love with you.”

He found no words. Of all the books he’d read, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He could, however, think of some things to do.

Take hold of her hand. Find her closer. Let their lips meet.

“I love you.”

“That’s right”, her face scrunched into a grimace, it seemed like she was trying to change her insides. “Damnit!”

He still couldn’t understand all of her. But he could try. He could ask.“What?”

Her arms flew out into a gesture, before she looked at him through frustrated eyes. “I promised myself I’d be nicer to you. Now that we’re in love an all.”

He had to smile at her. “Please don’t be.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

That earned him a kiss. And another. And another.

She let go of him, laughing, “Now I can really see what Lily meant with us not being an ideal couple…”

Their faces were close, they could hear each others quietest whispers. He sighed, “Hmm. Screw ideal.”

“How about we screw each other?”

He laughed, “I’m not entirely opposed to that idea.”

He finally felt he’d succeeded with suave. Cool and collected. At the same time, burning and all over the place.

She tugged at his hand, leaned in and whispered like she was telling a secret, “Wanna go eat at the Indian place?”

“Perhaps we could make a small stop first?”

“Where to?”

“I was thinking home.”

His eyes told her exactly what he meant. Her face turned rosy at his thoughts.

She leaned in, and he expected a sweet word, or something like it. Her nose almost touched his ear as she said, “Race you to it!”

She was already running at full speed when he straightened up.

“The loser has to pay for dinner!”

Their laughs echoed through the streets. And their life as star-cross'd lovers took its first breaths.

---

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