#idk if this snippet will make sense out of context but I’m enjoying writing this so much

[oakantony]

It wasn’t until she stepped into the chamber of judgment inside Oberon’s Keep that Cole realized she had been waiting for this for nearly her entire life.

”You’ll be killed. Beheaded. No, that’s the better outcome. The worst fate is imprisonment. They’ll imprison you. Torture you. Rip you apart, body and soul, for all of your miserably long life,” said Grandmother Marie. “Because the half-elven do live long. Very. You’ll be tortured, all those decades. Death is better than being caught.”

Inevitable. Cole had always thought it was inevitable.

And after Grandmother died, the feeling grew. Cole remembered how it settled, anew, inside her chest: if they weren’t killed for being half-elven, they would be killed for what they did to Marie.

It was Cole’s memory, not her power, that served her the sight of young Oli with a furious blush across his small, freckled face.

”How dare you?” said Grandmother Marie, looking down at the exposed knee Oli had struck with a fist. Her voice was a horrible screech as she screamed, “How dare you hit me?!”

”Let her go,” Oli whispered. “I mean it, Grandmother. Let her go.”

Grandmother looked between Oli’s clenched fist and the sopping wet and shivering Cole she held tight between her hands. “No. I have to do this. She’s sick. She’ll always be Cursed. And death is a better fate. Her death could serve us, Olivier. The nymphs will bless the farm.”

The bathtub sloshed as Grandmother slumped over its porcelain edge, dragging Cole back towards the murky, grayish water. This death wasn’t just for the nymphs. Even as children, Cole and Oli both understood: Cole had gotten her voice back, finally, after years of silence, and Grandmother Marie hated her. Hated her voice. Hated that she asked questions. Hated that she talked back.

“You’ll understand one day, Oli.”

”Oli,” Cole wheezed. She’d swallowed so much water already that her throat burned as she spoke, “It’s okay.” She was scared, yes. But she was tired, too. And dying here would be a better fate than living in the prisons built for half-elven—or elven—outlaws.

“No,” said Oli. “Put her down. Or I’ll kill you.”

Grandmother looked down at him, eyes flashing in pity. Oli was tall for his age, yes—ten winters then—but his strength was average at best. Grandmother Marie scoffed in disgust. “You’ll thank me for this,” she said. And then she plunged Cole back into the bath.

Cole’s hands were bound by a sash, shoulders burning from the angle she’d been twisted into. The water was cold and tasted foul—soap and dirt together, lancing through her nostrils, burning her eyes.

The river nymphs, Grandmother Marie believed, preferred sacrifices that died to the water.

Cole’s lungs burned. Her chest was on fire as she held her breath on instinct alone.

The water around her bloomed in color. It changed in taste. Salty. Thick. Like copper pence, almost.

The pressure against her head released and Cole pulled away from the tub with a great gasp of air. She blinked water from her eyes as she collapsed to the floor. As her senses returned, she heard a wet, methodic thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

She looked up to see her brother lifting the ax over his head. And bringing it down, as hard as he could muster, into a twitching, moaning form.

Cole distantly recognized the shawl. The tangled white hair. The shrill voice that begged, “Stop.”

Crack.

That one went into her skull.

Grandmother Marie’s voice slurred, “Stop,” before it fell into forever silence.

Still Oli raised the ax.

Crack.

Cole stood up, trembling, hands gone numb from the pressure of the ties against her wrist. “Oli,” she said, and then coughed. “You can stop now. She’s dead. Olivier?”

Crack. Oli didn’t look up from the bloody mass below. He stared, wide-eyed, with horrible focus. He wasn’t hitting her out of madness or anger, Cole realized, limping to his side.

He was cutting her apart.

”It’s not a water death,” he said, eventually, as pieces of their grandmother were scattered around them in small, easily haulable parts. “Will the nymphs take her anyway?”

Cole felt herself go dark, into a vision that held the answer. She came back to herself only a second later and said, “They will.”

[hunter-sylvester]

Hi! I’m the anon who wrote the ask about Hunter’s parental issues and about his attachment to Kevin. Thank you for answering my asks, I absolutely love the way you write and how you explain everything! You’re extremely talented!🫶

I honestly didn’t notice how in love Hunter was with Kevin until I watched the movie a second time. It’s crazy how you can literally see all feeling in Hunter’s eyes when he looks at Kevin. I also loved how you said that their relationship fits a BDSM bratting dynamic, because I totally see it.

[and as someone who has ADHD and deals with RSD on a regular, I completely understand him. It sucks.]

Hey 🤘 [prev ask for context] Yeah I obviously couldn’t be 100% sure they were from the same person but it definitely makes the most sense lol

Thank you so much! I’m really glad you enjoy my rambling thoughts about Hunter as a character <3

If you do like my writing, I’m tempted to sheepishly gesture over to my actual Metal Lords fics over on Ao3 if you haven’t checked them out, even tho it makes me feel like a bit of a dick to do so 😅 (They are mostly locked to registered users, blame AI data scraping. The only Metal Lords fic not locked rn is a tiny ficlet. An Ao3 account is free tho 👀)

In any case, I really appreciate that you pushed me to do a bit of analysis again. Because sometimes I tend to forget that all the stuff that lives in my head as “obvious” isn’t always stuff I’ve said out loud on here lmao

There’s a lot to pull from the film if you’re willing to be a bit mentally ill about it.

And you’re absolutely right about the way he looks at Kevin, I mean, it happened enough for me to make a whole ass gifset of it lmao

Look at him. The boy is smitten. Clueless, of course. But smitten.

Which I credit basically entirely to Adrian Greensmith, as it was a vision he had for the character. I really can’t imagine Hunter having been played by anyone else as he brought so much to the role. (Fun fact, if I remember correctly: Noah Urrea, who plays Clay, originally auditioned for Hunter. No harm but I'm very glad he didn't get that. He makes a good Clay and Hunter just needed to be played by Adrian.)

One of the key things Adrian brought to the role also being, probably accidentally, his anxiety.

"I spent a lot of Metal Lords feeling a bit anxious [...] and in hindsight I wonder if some of that was just a sign that Hunter was quite an anxious character [...] I mean his body's so tense all the time." - Adrian Greensmith.

I shortened that quite a bit so I'm including a slightly longer clip of the interview audio for more context. (I can upload a subtitled video clip if anyone wants that as well as link the video on yt but I'd have to do a bit of a search for that)

Aside: If I had to guess I'd say he's probably referring to Peter Sollett who directed Metal Lords when he mentions a 'Pete'.

And yeah the bratting thing was a little bit of a joke but mostly not a joke. Without going absolutely off the deep end, the mentality behind bratting is something I really see in Hunter.

Evie Lupine has a wonderful video about bratting and why people would be interested in it (and why some people hate it) but a short snippet that always spoke to me from that is the following:

"The motivations behind bratting are pretty varied. I think one of the main ones would be a sense of security and comfort. This is when the acting out is sort of a way to be reassured that even when you, break rules, even when you push at things, the partner that you're with is not going to abandon you." - Evie Lupine

Obviously, with Hunter's fear of abandonment, it's easy to see why this would appeal to him.

He also just...idk he has brat energy - sincerely, a brat.

And Kevin does just play out the counterpart to that. He doesn't always have Hunter under control but he tries to.

And he does mostly act as that safe person to brat against, which again amplifies the impact it has when Hunter starts to think he's actually losing Kevin, destroying that feeling of safety.

Aside: I obviously don't think that these characters, in universe, negotiated for a bratting dynamic. In universe it'd be something that just sort of organically developed within their friendship/relationship. But even more than that it's an archetype of a dynamic that we as the audience can easily read into their interactions if that makes sense.

Can you believe the shit they will accidentally put in movies? lmao

And yeah, I have ADHD as well. And RSD is something that affects me pretty fucking severely. I've only really become more aware of it in the past year or so as my partner has pointed it out more and more.

So it's definitely something that I then noticed more and more in Hunter too.

Obviously this is all just my take on the character, and other people might have totally different interpretations. That's the beauty of art, we all get to find what we need in it and read it in our own ways, influenced by our own life experiences.

Thank you again for asking, Anon 🤘 (if you want to use a nickname or smth to identify that you're the same Anon, let me know. If not, that's totally okay too, but I might not always know it's you)

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

ON FEYSAND’S PLOTLINE IN ACOSF

              !!!!MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE ACOSF!!!!

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Let’s be honest for a while, okay?

ACOCF had potential to be SJM’s best book, if not for any other reason then because of the sheer idea of it. Coming-of-age, healing story of the most complex and polarizing character she has ever created set in the time of peace, away from the familiar setting (according to the later changed concept which still remains in the snippet at the end of ACOFAS), development of her arguably most feisty and angsty love story... It could be her absolute trumph. Even with the change to stick to Velaris instead of exploring the Illyrian culture of the Mountains and with the added conflict of the Mortal Queens and Koshei, it still could work quite well. 

It didn’t. For many, many reasons, but the most important one, in my opinion, being the feysand pregnancy plot. 

Nothing about this plotline made sense. Not a single thing. From start to finish, it was an absolute disaster from the character-writing POV, from the narration POV, from every single context of it. It broke the rules of real-life logic, it broke the rules of this fantasy world setting and it completely exposed that Rhysand, while not a bad guy, is a pretty terrible partner, even worse ruler and an absolutely terrible contender for the High King title. 

Let’s break this whole mess down (and expect this post to be mammoth-sized. it’s not my fault, though, write to SJM if you have any complains):

1) Feyre, 21, decides to get pregnant, even though less than a year earlier, she expresses the delight with not being forced to bear children to her new mate and told him herself she wants to wait a while and enjoy her life with him. Feyre decides she wants a baby though and Rhysand goes along with it, even though he is aware how young Feyre is and how hard her life has been up until this point. He wants a baby too much to have an honest discussion with Feyre about it, to stop and wonder what is the reason for her sudden change of heart, to reassure her that they have a lot of time ahead of them and don’t need to rush. No. She mades a sudden decision to have a baby after A YEAR OF MARRIAGE and not much more of being turned fae, JUST AFTER having her whole world put upside down, having received a completely new title and responsibilities, surviving the wat and being mated. Great. 

2) Feyre decides to get pregnant and Rhys goes along with it less than a year after the end of the bloody war. It is politically a delicate time, everyone is still not sure how the balance will shift, some countries don;t want to sign the peace treaty, etc. There are a lot of enemies and a lot of turmoil remaining. But sure. Let’s have a baby. Perfect time to add yet another target, another weakness that can be use by the Mortal Queens, Beron or whatever else with malicious intent towards the Night Court. 

2) Feyre gets pregnant after approximately a year of trying. I know healthy people of reproductive age for whom it takes ages more than this. Fae’s pregnancies are rare af and precious and happen once in a blue moon, but ofc SJM broke the world’s rules for her darling Feyre. And again, for Kallas and Vivianne who are also expecting the baby, even though it has been a maximum of 3 years since they’ve mated. 3 years is also not a particularly long time to try to have a baby for those who have issues with their reproductive systems like Fae women. Thank you, next. 

3) Rhys has unprotected sex with Feyre in her Illyrian form when she conceives, even though he knows full well having a winged baby would kill her. He does it anyway, for shits and giggles apparently. They probably have sex in the sky above Velaris, for all we know. 

4) The baby has wings. Now, the whole explanation with Illyrian wings being bony (bc they resemble bat wings) and Seraphin ones being more flexible (bc they resemble bird ones) is so insanely stupid that it takes around 3 seconds to wikipedia this shit and find out it’s exactly the opposite. But okay, the baby has wings and Feyre will die while giving birth, along with the baby. Madja forbids Feyre from turning into an Illyrian to carry the pregnancy because it MIGHT hurt the baby. Now, remember, Feyre conceived while in Illyrian form and then turned into High Fae. The baby survived it just fine. The baby MIGHT be hurt by Feyre turning .... but it will FOR SURE die if she stays High Fae and Feyre will too. Idk about you, but I would take the risk of MIGHT instead of FOR SURE. Especially when she is already in labour and dying. Cauldron or Nesta or idk who alters Feyre’s pelvis after the baby is cut out of her for no apparent reason but to allow feysand to make exactly the same mistakes later on. How convinient. And Nesta also alters her own pelvis bc god forbid she won’t be able give Cassian babies like the little useful mate she is now. She should’ve probably done it with Elain too, just in case she decides to fuck Az in the future, because fuck consequences and fuck the stakes in the story that make the readers actually CARE about characters bc they know the author may actually kill them and not save their life every fucking time.  

5) I don’t even want to comment on the fact Rhys hid the true danger of this pregnancy for Feyre and their family went along with it. It is absolutely disgusting. And Nesta telling her and that being condemned as the act of the ultimate cruelty which is a final straw to break her self-loathing back.... is abhorrent. It made my sick, actually, phisically sick. There is no justification for it. No at all. And the fact that they did not even consider abortion sends a message that I really don’t want to think too much about it. Feyre was 2 months along when they learned the baby is winged. 2 months. 8 weeks. It wasn’t a baby yet, let’s be honest. They could’ve at least discussed it. She - oh my god, I cannot believe SJM wrote it this way, I’m gonna be sick. 

6) For the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, they have no plan to really help her. Labour plan? Haven’t heard if it.  They have money and power and access to the healers of the whole land. And did not figure out how to stop her from bleeding out after a fucking C-section. THIS WORLD HAS MAGIC AND THEY COULDN’T STOP HER FROM BLEEDING OUT AFTER A FUCKING C-SECTION. Didn’t even ask Thesan, the High Lord of Healing, to be present. Cassian had guts hanging out of his stomach and survived. Az was fucking slashed apart in Hybern and survived. But yeah, Feyre was on a brink of death after a C-section. Great, Sarah. Keep it up. Let’s force the thought into young girls’ heads that labour is the most lethal thing ever, why not. 

7) Also, for the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, Rhys keeps quiet about this idiotic bargain. He, as far as we know, doesn’t make any plans for the moment when him and Feyre and possibly their baby are dead. If they died and baby survived.. who would take care of it? Does Rhys have a conversation with his family about it? NAH. Doesn’t write any sort of plan how to keep the Court going, doesn’t inform even the closest of his co-workers how they should proceed to act after he’s gone and his and Feyre’s power go to god-knows-who. Their deaths would mean a sure chaos for the weakend and fragile Prythian and the Night Court especially and yet nor Rhys nor Feyre make any sort of preparations for it. Rhys doesn’t tell his brothers or Mor or HIS SECOND IN COMMAND they will all soon have to somehow manage without him. He was about to just leave them to their own devices and told them in the last. possible. moment. 

And this man - this man is, according to Amren, the best candidate to handle the whole country? To unite it? This fool who makes idiotic bargains, who thinks first about his cock and his own selfish desires and considers his subjects and his responsibilities as a High Lord last and least important of all? Who has so much trust in his wife, in his High Lady, the mother of his son that he doesn’t tell her she will almost surely die on a birthing bed because it MAY UPSET HER? 

This plotline was the straw that broke my back. ACOTAR, at it’s heart has always been a ya fantasy with added ‘spice’ and I was willing to bend my critical-thinking skills in many cases and forget and forgive many smaller idiotic issues in this series. But this? It is not idiotic. It is massive and stupid to the point when it becomes insulting to the reader. It was a plot straight out of a bad fanfic, not something that should be in a published book written by someone who writes for a living. You could even argue that Twilight has handled this toxic trope better.  I have wasted my money on this book and thinking about it will always be painful for me. So yeah.

ACOSF could be great. Ended up quite pathetic. 

[butchniqabi]

You definitely know how to leave a reader thirsty for more lol I have some questions about The Sea, the seas, the open sea if you don’t mind? Also! Also! The covers for that story are absolutely fantastic! I had a hard time choosing which was my favorite. Both covers (if one were to read the synopsis) give a hint of what the device does to the two remaining crew members but the cover that says “the connection was unearthly.”…ominous, if I do say so myself and especially great foreshadowing that the characters seem to not make it on the other side as they once were. But I’m getting ahead of myself 😅😅😅 I’m acting like you’ve written and published your story already and I have read it in its entirety (not just the two snippets). The gethsemane covers are beautiful too and I wouldn’t be able to pick from those options either lol Anyway! Do you have face claims for Alishba and Luevenia? Also, they are both beautiful names 😊 Do they mean anything and what made you pick those names out? When your reader gets to the end of your story what do you hope you’ve made them feel? Or a point you where able to get across? Lastly, I saw that isolation is a theme so I curious if it’s an entity in this story or a very tangible feeling? Ofc, noooo pressure to answer any of these if that’ll spoil your story 😁 thank you for sharing your stories, however small and brief, with not only me but the world! - 🌊 anon

gotta break this up into chunks hehehe

1. its okay sometimes i talk about my work like ive finished it too qdgebendnd. the binary code cover originally looked like this:

and if the binary code converter i used is accurate (no guarantees) it should say "i love you i hate you i am you" over and over. and heh...the connection is unearthly and it is as beautiful as it is. kinda gross!

2. i generally dont have faceclaims anymore! idk what shifted but as i got more into writing the less hm...clear? the faces of my characters became? like i have vague ideas and i know what they Dont look like, but no concrete visual references. as for their names, they are very pretty hehe but i didnt choose them for any symbolic meaning, the names just suited the characters!

3. what do i want my reader to feel? hm. well for context this story was inspired a large part by this astronaut comic (tws for gore and body horror </3) and its not really the same, its not like their bodies are broken down or used for parts, stuff like that. but i want to leave people with a similar feeling when you read the last line of that comic. a strange pitiful longing with an undercurrent of unease (or even disgust?). if i say what i hoped readers took away from the story though id be spoiling it a teensy bit...but i ill just say sometimes you only realize your place in the world and with others after youve destroyed everything else.

4. isolation in this context is kind of like a character? perhaps? ive been treating the story as one with 4 protagonists: alishba and luevenia, obviously, but also the love-in-winter and "the space left behind" by their crewmates (aka isolation and loneliness). i suppose in a sense you could go so far as to say that isolation is the antagonist of the story, pushing them to desperation.

5. and finally, THANK YOU SOOO MUCH IM GLAD YOURE ENJOYING IT 😭 sending you a thousand kisses 😚

[sevensided]

how did you get into writing fic? i'd love to start but idk even where to begin! I loved adats so I was wondering do you have any advice?

Oh my goodness! I am so flattered you’ve asked me this. Yes, I can absolutely help. I’ll throw a bunch of rambling under the cut.

I started writing fic probably when I was... sixteen years old? A lot of my early works were oneshots. I couldn’t figure out how to do anything plot heavy for the life of me, so I just stuck to AUs or whatever I felt like. I wasn’t in any particular fandom -- I really wrote whatever I had ideas for. I remember I tried once to do a plot-heavy story and I received a review absolutely ripping it to shreds. Like, it was so cruel I cried lol. I ended up deleting the fic. Years later, I get what they were trying to say (basically, more substance, less style), but at the time it cut to the quick. Really, it was only when I was in my twenties that I started writing work that was longer and/or better.

The fandom that helped me actually write plot heavy work was a historical-based fandom. As I’m a historian, it was perfect. I got to use my research skills and knowledge to create works that, above all, aimed to feel authentic. I mainly read historical fiction, so I was familiar with how that genre worked. Miraculously, people loved my work. I think I wrote about ~200k in the period of a year? These were several short stories (20-40k) and a few oneshot filler fics. While I was part of this fandom I also helped organise a Big Bang which was a lot of hard work but was extremely rewarding. Along with that, I interacted mainly with other fic writers, so I spent a lot of time chatting to people about ideas and encouraging other writers, and it just created a lovely medley where no concept was impossible or any line of dialogue too difficult. We supported each other and it was truly like a little commune. I gradually stepped away from the fandom mainly because it was just a part of my life at a very specific time, and almost as soon as that time was over, my love for that story/ship faded, but I firmly believe I figured out a lot of how/what I do now purely through that experience.

Regarding ADATS

With ADATS, it stemmed entirely from wanting to “explain” three months in canon (at the end of season three). I was interested in the idea of season four setting up Will/Mike in canon, and I wanted to test the source material to see if I could draw from what already existed to create something authentic. I began with that simple idea: what happened from July to October in 1985? Then I thought about the major themes I wanted to hit -- family, friendship, coming of age, sexuality -- and I nested them around the bigger concept: how do I get Mike from being ostensibly straight to realising he is gay? That meant thinking of two steps: Mike discovering his attraction to guys; Mike discovering his attraction to Will. Those two concepts were separate “arcs” that needed addressing in different ways. Balance was key to weaving them together and making the reader feel like they knew what was coming (and that they felt smart for putting the pieces together) without just rushing through and going “now kiss!” That’s partly why ADATS needs a sequel, lol: because it’s not finished!

Writing process

The first thing I do when I start to get an idea is I write it down. Sounds obvious. But when you have a killer line of dialogue come to you in the shower and you think “I’ll remember that” -- reader, you will not remember it. You gotta get it down ASAP! I do that the whole way through, as generally I’ll be thinking of scenes I’m stuck on and then it’ll just come to me and I’ll quickly jot it down.

The next thing -- or what I do in the meantime -- is start structuring. I plan. I try to plan a lot. Sometimes it’s okay to write “and something happens here to get them here”, because you’ll figure it out later, but for the most part I’ve discovered that planning is like gold and you can’t get enough of it. I break my work up into generally 3-4 parts/sections, and I treat each section like a mini story. So each part needs a conflict and resolution, and it needs to flow into the next section. You need to have a feeling of things evolving and maturing. Once I’ve planned those little bits, I start thinking about the bigger plot arc and how I can drop in hints along the way. I’m probably not a subtle or skilled enough writer to yet pull off that sort of gasping twist you get in really excellent books, but I’m trying to get there. It’s hard, is what I’m trying to say, but that’s okay, because we’re all learning.

Then I generally do aesthetic stuff. Sounds stupid, probably. But nothing helps me get more into a mood than doing a Pinterest board or -- most of all -- making a Spotify mix. I start thinking about the vibe and the general atmosphere, and then I almost exclusively listen to that mix when I’m working. Sort of like muscle memory? Just to get the creative juices associated with that particular selection of songs.

Another thing I’ll do along with plot structure is character structure. This is a biggie. I mean, a story is nothing without characters. So I’ll just jot down a bunch of bullet points of characters and particular aspects that I want to highlight or remember. I hate continuity errors in fiction. Like, if someone says they work on Maple Street but later in the fic they’re working on Pine Street. I hate that. So I keep note of specific things that my main character might notice at repeated points in the story (colours, places, smells, names, sounds -- so they’re all consistent even as the narrative evolves). That’s another thing -- your characters’ motivations. Not everyone is going to be a huge player, but they all do serve a purpose. The most important character is obviously your main character. I personally think it’s important to let your M.C. be an arse at times. They’re going to be mean, they’re going to misinterpret things or fly off the handle... just let ‘em. Let them be wretched humans, and then bring them back and make them realise what they’ve done. Let them learn! I love consequences in fiction, lol.

At the same time, I’ll probably start writing. We’ve already written down some snippets of neat dialogue or descriptions, but now we should start the actual process. For me, I used to start at the beginning. Usually this was the most fleshed out anyway: I’ll have a clear idea of the beginning and the end, but nothing in the middle. These days, if I have a scene in mind that I can’t forget, I’ll just write it. It will possibly get scrapped or rewritten, but that’s okay, because at least you’ve got it down and now you can devote your brain power to something useful (like figuring out what the middle is supposed to be). I’ll have half a dozen of totally out of context scenes just littered in my Word document that I’ll add to as I go along. Eventually, though, you’re going to start writing properly, and that’s when you write your opening scene.

Opening scenes: super important. Every time I write a scene I think: what is the point of this? What do I want the reader to learn or takeaway? Sometimes you do have filler scenes, but they also serve a different purpose (perhaps to establish a group dynamic or to explore/describe a character’s surroundings). Mainly, though, every scene should push something forward in some way, whether it’s character development or a plot point. So, with an opening scene, I always think you have to establish: where you are; who you are; what they are doing; where they’ve come from (in a philosophical and practical sense); and where they’re going (ditto). That doesn’t have to happen in the first paragraph -- that would be silly. But if you sprinkle that information in over time it’ll gradually build up a picture of your character and that way the reader can get an idea of who they are. You basically need to give a snapshot of what your story is about. This also goes back to the character creator stuff: where they are at the start should be different to where they end up. How that happens is, of course, because of plot, and because you’ve structured everything to the nth degree, we’ve got a very clear progression of that character’s growth (/s easier said than done lol).

General advice

Write down everything: every idea, a bit of dialogue, a description, whatever. Write it down. Doesn’t have to be neat. Just has to be on paper. You can’t remember everything, so if you’re spending time trying to hold those things in your head, it’s taking up space for new ideas to come along.

Structure, plan, structure, plan. Sometimes it’s boring and I hate it. Other times, when I’ve not written in a few days and I open the Word doc and think wtf is this supposed to be, I am very grateful for Past Me for leaving such detailed notes. Seriously, it helps so much. Oneshots don’t really need planning, in my experience. You just get those out there. But multi-chaptered stories really do, even ones that “just” focus on a relationship.

Whatever you want to write, commit to it. Space goblins invade Hawkins? Do it. Eleven and Max find themselves in a cult akin to Midsommar (2019) and must escape? Yes. Just... whatever you want to do, remember that you’re writing it for you. Write what most interests you, what makes you when you reread it go AHHHHH I LOVE THIS!! Because that makes it a thousand times easier to actually get on with the writing when you enjoy what you’re doing.

Write a lot. Every day, if you can, or at least at designated times. Occasionally I have a very specific headspace/vibe I have to be in, but sometimes it just hits me and I’ll say to my partner “I need to write now” and just disappear, lol. The more you write the more you write. It’s so, so, so true. Cannot emphasise this enough. When I wrote that ~200k in twelve months? It was because I literally wrote every. day. Or near enough. Remember that some days you’ll write 200 words, and other days you’ll write 20k (this happened to me with ADATS -- part of the reason I finished it so quickly was because I had sprints of writing 10k+ at a time that only happened because I was in the rhythm of it). Write, write, write. Who cares if it’s crap! No one will see it until you are ready. In the meantime, just write!

Probably last of all (although I could go on and on) is connect with other writers. If you’re struggling to start, sometimes just talking about it can help a huge amount. I hope it goes without saying that you can message me whenever you want, anon or not, and I will talk to you. We can talk about ideas or I can beta stuff, whatever you want! Find like-minded people and talk to them about what you want to do. Another thing this helps is in advertising your work when you do publish. I see a lot of first time fic writers get super down because they publish their magnum opus on AO3 but no one comments. Honestly, it’s because no one knows you’ve published! You don’t have to be tooting your own horn every which way, but just actively talking about your work and even collaborating with other content creators with get you hyped and other people too (and the input and encouragement other fandom members give is just... out of this world. Anon messages helped me finish ADATS when I was really worried I wouldn’t [that’s the truth]. Seriously, support is everything). When you have people excited about your work, you get excited. It’s really as simple as that.

I could go on but this is already horrendously long. I hope even a bit of this helps! If you want to chat or have any more questions, just hit me up any time.

[twothumbsandnostakeincanon]

Have I talked on here about my fake exes bachelorette au?? I feel like maybe I haven’t. It’s something I obsess about like, once every six months so I’ll probably never write it, but let me talk about it for a minute.

Peter and Stiles are both contestants, competing for Lydia/Kira/idk Deaton maybe or whoever, and they immediately start off at level 10 snark. There is no off switch. They’re enjoying themselves immensely, and most of the cast and crew can see that their barbs aren’t actually hurtful, just a little abrasive.

But if you take away the context of their comments, like any good reality show does, their interactions instantly become much more Spicy.™

Sometime after a week or so of shooting, a producer gets them alone and suggests that they pretend to be exes.

Peter and Stiles are 100% up for the game.

Anyway here have a few snippets that are never going to grow into anything else:

“I didn’t come here to make friends, I came to win.”

“Really? What a bummer. ‘Cause, you know, the real treasure was the friends we made along the way, so that’s why I came. Plus the food. The catering is amazing, have you tried- where are you going?” 

A camera followed Hale as he walked away from Stiles, rolling his eyes. Stiles stayed where he was, smirking. His eyes were immediately drawn to the very well tailored retreating ass. After all, this was reality TV, ergo everyone here was unrealistically beautiful. It would be an insult to the genre for Stiles not to properly appreciate it. 

__________

“Where are my pants???”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Normally I would assume they’re on your legs, but apparently that’s not the case.”

Stiles wiped his still-dripping hair out of his eyes, just in time to see Peter’s eyes travel down toward the towel wrapped around his waist. It was tempting to make a remark, but there was a slightly more pressing issue. 

“My pants, Peter. Where are they. I left them my room when I went to the sauna and now every single pair is gone,” Stiles said with a scowl.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” Peter drawled. “I was doing laundry and I didn’t have quite enough for a load. I saw your full basket, and decided you wouldn’t mind if I did some laundry for you.”

Stiles stared, trying to decide whether or not he was mad. Sure, he had no pants, but on the other hand, he also had no laundry… he sighed. 

“Whatever. You had to pick through my dirty laundry and I’m getting clean clothes out of it, so whatever.”

And with that he let the towel drop and walked away to the private yard. Some sunbathing sounded nice. 

While a little disgruntled that Stilinski hadn’t been more irritated, Peter couldn’t bring himself to think of his endeavor as a failure. Certainly not when he was watching those magnificent glutes flex on their way out the door.

__________

It was one of the very few times the cameras were turned off and no sound was being recorded. Stiles, Peter and the producer, Braeden, stood in a dim spare room, filled with various props and filming equipment. 

“You want us to what?” Peter said with disbelief. 

Stiles grinned with delight. 

“Pretend we’re exes!! Oh this is gonna be great, I’m totally in.”

“What??” said Peter again. 

“The little feud you two have going is great for ratings, but we were thinking that if you made it a little more… personal, then this season is really going to catch fire,” Braeden explained. “You don’t need to say anything explicitly untrue, just… insinuate heavily.”

“Oh no, if I’m going to do this, I’m going All-The-Way,” Stiles said with emphasis. “ ‘He left me barefoot and pregnant in the snow’ all-the-way.”

Peter snorted. 

“But dear, who got the dog in the divorce?” he asked sarcastically.

“Oh honey, we never needed a divorce, you left me at the altar,” replied Stiles, turning big, mournful eyes on Peter. 

Peter shook his head, and said, “I guess this is what I signed up for. What the hell, I’ll do it.”

“We’re gonna get so many endorsement deals out this!” Stiles said gleefully.

“Endorsement deals for what? Tinder?” Peter asked, a dubious eyebrow raised.

“Tinder, Grindr; if we angle it right I bet we could make a deal with a law firm that does D-list celebrity divorces.”

“What lofty goals you have,” Peter said dryly. 

“It’s why you fell in love with me, sweetheart,” Stiles replied, gooey eyed and saccharine sweet. “That and my gorgeous ass.”

Peter looked down speculatively. 

“I could overlook a lot for an ass like that,” he mused. 

“Oh, this is going to be so good,” Braeden whispered. 

__________

“Damn it!” Stiles cursed. Why did the challenge have to be asparagus?? Who even likes asparagus? Besides Peter, apparently, because he’d eaten the whole goddamn casserole in seven minutes and 13 seconds. 

As Stiles bent over with his hands on his knees, willing the casserole to stay down, Peter passed by and clapped a hand on his shoulder. 

“Better luck next time Stilinski,” Peter purred. 

Stiles’ eyes narrowed as he silently fumed. 

Two hours later, in front of the confessional cam, Stiles worked up an eyeful of unshed tears. 

“It makes sense that Peter would win today’s challenge… he’s always loved asparagus. I remember once, back when we were…” he let out a choked little noise. “…When we used to know each other, I once made him dinner. Asparagus and salmon… he never came home. He ‘worked late’ that night,” Stiles was sure to use air quotes for full effect, “like so many other nights. I ended up eating the leftovers myself.” Stiles gave a dramatic sniff and pasted a pathetic smile on his face. “I haven’t cared much for asparagus since then.”

_________

“… cared much for asparagus since then.” 

Shit, this was good. Bad for him obviously, thought Peter, but it was a good attack and it was really good TV. Braeden had been right. It was time to bring his A-game. 

_________

As the 9 remaining contestants rode the limo to the next destination, Peter leaned against the window and sighed dramatically, making sure his face was in full view of the car camera.

“Just look at that view! Stiles, look! Doesn’t it remind you of that trip we took to the Caribbean?” Peter said, with a fond look on his face. 

Stiles hummed noncommittally, unsure of where this was going, but knowing it probably wasn’t good for him. 

“The weather was gorgeous for that whole trip… it’s too bad I had to spend most of it inside that tiny hospital room.” Peter reached over and patted Stiles on the leg. “I’m just glad you didn’t let it get in the way of your fun while we were there. You still went scuba diving, and hiking, remember? And didn’t that nice dance instructor take you out for a practical demonstration? You hardly wasted any time in that chair next to my bed!” Peter chuckled. “I just hope you’ve gotten better at identifying what’s egg salad, and what’s crab salad. Don’t want to have to use my epi pen again!” 

And with that, they pulled up to their destination and Peter hopped out of the limo. 

Stiles’ mouth hung open for a moment before snapping shut. A few of the other contestants were staring at him, waiting for his reaction. Stiles shrugged. 

"We didn’t have a prenup.”

__________

“Shit!” Peter barely had time to catch himself with his hands before his leg gave way, sending him sprawling into the dirt. 

Their bachelorette waited at the end of the footrace, and while he’d been in the lead, Peter certainly wouldn’t be getting there first anymore. He eyed the hole he’d stepped in with vindictive anger, trying to ignore the throb in his ankle. 

He was just attempting to move it when Stiles shot past him, before almost comically windmilling to a stop. He turned around and jogged back.

“Peter? What the fuck are you doing on the ground?”

“Trying to get a date with the dirt,” he bit out through grit teeth, hissing when his ankle vehemently protested movement. 

“Stop it moron,” Stiles chided. “Look at it, it’s already swelling. Here-” Stiles swept his jacket off and balled it up, gently lifting Peter’s ankle to elevate it. Another contestant came around the corner and zoomed past them without a second glance. 

They both watched him go. 

“You just lost,” Peter remarked. 

“So did you,” Stiles pointed out, and then shrugged. “Whatever. Maybe this will win me brownie points.” He smiled a little crookedly. “Let me go get one of the production paramedics, and then we can get you an x-ray.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, firmly ignoring the soft little place inside of him that surfaced more and more when Stiles was around. 

“Stop being dramatic, it’s not broken.” 

Stiles looked at the ankle skeptically. 

“I dunno dude. Ankles aren’t usually that shade of purple. Or that puffy. You have like, the world’s largest singular cankle right now.”

“-Cankle?!”

“I’m your ex, you can trust me to call it like I see it.”

“Cankle!! I’m divorcing you.”

“We’re already divorced.”

“Fine, then I’m going to remarry you so that I can divorce you again,” Peter insisted. 

Stiles’ crooked smile grew. 

“I don’t think that’s the theme of the show, Peter.” 

They were still sniping when the paramedics arrived a few minutes later, bachelorette in tow, who had plenty of kisses for both the injured hero and the rescuer.

Anyway obviously this ends when they get caught making out because they forgot to take off their mics. 

[childotkw]

This has been bothering for a while and idk who to ask but you, since you've been open about your real identity/original works - I've been toying with the idea of writing fanfiction, and it's been nagging at me horribly that the tomarry/harrymort fandom is a super controversial pairing, I guess I'm paranoid but I wanted advice on how you deal with the alignment of your fanfic/published works? I want to try publishing too and, the idea it could be connected to my fanfic interests scares me T_T

Hmm, I completely relate to this, darling.

Firstly, thanks for asking. This is a very intricate topic, but I will try to explain my views on it as best I can.

So. Writing controversial pairings is always going to be a minefield. In fandoms it is relatively safe to say what you ship and not face any backlash – depending on which circles you frequent and how determined you are to keep your fandom experience away from those select few that start shit. Finding likeminded people in the bubble of fanfiction is pretty easy too.

But in the big wild world, surrounded by people who haven’t spent years of their lives entrenched in fanfiction and fandom-culture – it’s scary. There isn’t that undercurrent of tolerance, as many people do find out when they admit to ships they enjoy or a character they like, and are ridiculed by the masses for it.

This disconnection is terrifying. And let me tell you, I struggle with it daily.

The knowledge that once I publish a book, any separation between my original work and the fanfictions I write will be gone is difficult to combat against. The notion that absolute strangers that don’t have the fandom and fanfiction context might look at some of the things I have written, and start judging me, is crippling some days. It makes me not want to write at all.

And I feel like this is a pervasive notion in my generation, and the generation before me. This fear of being seen. For all the surge of Instagram and Youtuber fame – people are inherently afraid of being known. That’s why we use filters, that’s why we fall into new crazes, that’s why platforms that allow us to present certain facets of our personalities are so dominating. We love the anonymity of being known only in certain degrees.

I’m certainly not as nice as I show myself to be online when I talk to you guys. Sometimes people send me asks that absolutely infuriate or irritate me, but I always try and respond at least politely because what if people realise that I can be mean? The fear never goes away, and it influences a great deal of how I present myself. I’m not lying, I’m just not telling the truth either.

Getting back on topic – this idea of people finding out what I’ve written, and the type of pairings I enjoy, makes me uncomfortable. For so long, I refused to even tell some of the people closest to me what I was writing or who the pairings were. There is this sense of shame that clings to fanfiction, almost.

Publishing a novel would put us out there in front of the world in a way we aren’t necessarily with fanfiction. It’s putting ourselves into the spotlight, and essentially opening ourselves up to take more hits than we could potentially handle. After all, there’s no way to know what people are thinking or feeling or saying about you – and that loss of control is incredibly daunting.

Now, I realise I have just made this sound super bleak, and I apologise for that. But I’ll swing this, I promise.

For me, personally, taking the step and actually putting myself out there on my tumblr – with my full name, with my photo, sharing the snippets of my original work – was so incredibly difficult. The fear I spoke about earlier was overwhelming, and even though I knew that my followers were all wonderful and supportive people, I was still terrified of backlash.

I only took that step because of my sister.

She was the one who told me, point-blank, that if I wasn’t prepared to be known and seen as Jordan Christison, then the chances of me achieving my dream of publishing a novel might not happen. She told me that I was my own worst enemy in this scenario, and that while yes the world is a scary place, and the chances of being torn down would always be there, if my passion and love and dreams were worth anything to me, then I would need to overcome this.

So, my biggest piece of advice really boils down to what my sister told me. You need to decide if pursuing your dreams and goals are worth opening yourself up to the potential of ridicule from strangers.

One of the best quotes I have for dealing with this fear is:

“If you’re not in the arena getting your arse kicked, I’m not interested in your feedback.” – Brené Brown

And that’s the approach I take to my writing. While I appreciate all the comments I receive, and the overwhelming support from my readers, there are very few people that, in my eyes, can make me question my own skills and abilities. Do I accept constructive criticism? Yes. Do I accept baseless hate from people who don’t seem to understand how difficult writing is? Not really.

If, by publishing a novel, I get hate for enjoying the pairings I do and writing the fanfiction I have, I will persevere. I am not ashamed of what I have done, because every single word I write has helped me build my skills and improve on my techniques and made me a better writer. If, in the future, a reader or fan of my original work stumbles across my fanfictions and tries to make me feel embarrassed or guilty for it, I will laugh because those stories they might think are disgusting and wrong are the entire reason they got to read my original novel in the first place.

I’m not sure if this really answered your question, or gave you the advice you needed, but this is how I deal with the knowledge that people are inevitably going to connect me with my fanfictions. I hope this helps in some way, darling 💜💜

[reggierightsactivism]

B,F,Z For the fanfic ask game

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Not really 😅I don’t like drawing on my own life experiences too much wrt writing, I’m neurotically private that way. At most sometimes I’ll go more into detail if I do have experience in something, but I won’t usually center a whole story around that thing. 

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“It sounds complicated,” Archie agrees. “Look, Reg, I know you enough not to make too big a deal about this, but hey, I’m happy for you. It can be hard to figure these things out on your own.”

Reggie laughs a little, tempted to make a joke about how, yeah, he’s not the one who has a dad who would say he’ll still love him just as much if he want to play music and football, but he stops himself just in time. It’d make for a better joke if Archie’s dad wasn’t dead, obviously.

“Yeah,” is what he goes with instead, which is lame but harmless. And true. Not that Reggie’s had to find the way through his sexuality crisis entirely on his own, but if he’d had to, he’d probably still be all way back at square one.

“It’s not even that I’m all that worried about what people at school would think,” he adds, which is also true in a way he hadn’t really realized until saying it just now. “Like, it’s senior year anyway, right, and if I was already in college then I’d probably just go for it. But--”

He falls quiet, working his jaw to one side in thought.

“I get it, dude. And I’m sorry,” Archie says, touching him on the shoulder. “It sucks that you always have to worry so much about how your parents will react to things like this.”

“It’s fine,” Reggie says, though it isn’t, really. The Mantle family isn’t dysfunctional in the ways most of Riverdale’s most broken families tend to be-- his parents aren’t mobsters or siblings or serial killers, nothing like that, although he might argue that when they’re mad they can be just as scary.

When they’re not mad, though (at him or in general, at least with his dad the difference is often immaterial), it’s so different.

When he was a kid and got sent home early for fighting on the playground, and his dad commended him for not letting himself get pushed around, then showed Reggie old Kung-Fu movies so he’d learn about badass Asian heroes the likes of which were never featured in the Twilight Drive-In’s lineups; whenever he’s had a good day on the dealership shadowing his dad and they’d go get Pop’s after, maybe even share a couple beers back home as they watch whatever game was on that night; whenever he was MVP during a football game; whenever he charmed his mother’s book club or garden party friends so much everyone would be in a boisterous, charitable mood for the entire weekend.

Being a local football star isn’t only good for his reputation, it helps his father sell cars, it helps his mother raise money and her status within the community. By all appearances, and even sometimes in those brief moments of peace when his parents are actually proud of him, the Mantles make a perfect team.

As much as Reggie hates his parents, he loves them, too. The prospect of never seeing them again after he leaves for college doesn’t set him to ease as much as it probably should.

“Maybe it’ll be easier when we’re not living together,” he goes on, not certain if he’s convinced by the notion but vaguely hopeful anyway. Hey, mom and dad. I think I might be bisexual. I’ve kinda-sorta been seeing this guy from the football team. Anyway, bye! See you at Thanksgiving!

Yeah, totally. Solid plan.

-- excerpt from Like A Tough Guy Would

LONG but I just really enjoyed writing this scene 1) to have a moment where someone comforts/helps Reggie with a problem rather than the typical other way around, and of course it made most sense for that to be Archie, which 2) also allowed me to write an Archie/Reggie scene, which I have somehow still not done a whole lot of yet!!, 3) some slightly less straightforward introspection about Reggie’s parents, which is definitely an undercurrent throughout this fic, and 4) I just find a lot of the lines in this segment funny. 

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate?

I don’t necessarily mind reading it depending on the context of a story, but it really depends. I’ve been fine even with canon deaths of my favorites if done well -- though in fic this is a little trickier because idk, narratively justifying death in a fic (just as sometimes in canon) often will boil down to just utilizing that character as a plot device for whatever ship/character the fic is for, vs a greater canon narrative -- but if it’s horror or, again, contexually holds up, then I’ll be more open to it (reading or writing).

Send me fanfic asks 💖

[fanartfunart]

A Little Daydream

*puts this here and runs away* OK writing. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. (also, links to some pieces of the art is embedded in here because, yeah, some of it I’ve drawn small snippets of. Here’s context. HEH.) YEET. 

Summary: Daydream AU- Local Unicorn, Patton, was strolling through the wilderness when he hears some disturbances in the pattern of life. Roman is quite distressed at encountering some magical beings.

Ships: N/A, Platonic Logicality? I guess?? (idk, open to interpretation I would say.)

Warnings: Roman hit’s his head and falls on the ground....think that’s it. Tell me if I should tag anything!

Words: 2495 (ish. I edited a little since I last checked...)

~

Patton was having a fairly normal day. Just wandering around, enjoying the day. Fall had settled into the kingdom, and the near laziness of summer was starting to wear off for most. A fresh breeze pulled the smell of the last rain through the kingdom. The sun warmed his back with a golden glow. The wash of the river filling his ears. Even some of the animals of the forested grove took time to greet him out of their busy days.

Patton trotted along the riverbed, greeting the busy creatures and occasionally helping them collect their winter needs. He didn’t particularly need to do anything in preparation for winter, his plans would stay the same as they were last year and the years before.

His ears flicked up and toward a loud ruckus of movement. He let out a huff of a breath, frowning. A human or two, most likely, were running through the forest and causing a mass exodus of wildlife. Patton shook his head and weaved further into the treeline as his precaution and continued along. He kept careful attention to his footing as he moved.

“Stop!” came a shout. Patton whipped his head towards the voice. The snap of branches and twigs underfoot seeming to echo through the nearby clearing.

“Roman!” the voice shouted, “Stop!”

A shout rang out as a slide of rocks tumbled down into the river waters. Patton watched the human in a blur of white attire crash into the water, apparently not stopping fast enough before he hit the riverbed, and disappear under the waves. He was moving before he could think and dived into the water.

Shapeshifting, at this point, was normal for him. He was vaguely aware his form had changed, that, instead of hooves, a pair of webbed paws pushed through the water. It was normal, nearly instinct at this point.

He let the momentum of the water pull him toward the individual in white and collected him with his mouth before his form was changing again and he stood, belly deep in water. He tilted his head up, holding the human by its coat, and tried, as careful as he could manage, to get out of the rushing water without slipping.

The climb back up was awkward and made him heavily aware of his hooves and ankles, bending in awkward directions from the rocks. He pushed himself up and carefully set the human down before shaking himself off.

He huffed out a breath and glanced down at the creature that was wet and tired looking, and… He pushed it gently with a hoof. Asleep. He could distantly hear the sounds of the other human and it did not sound happy. Patton frowned at his new human and picked it up, throwing the creature somewhat haphazardly onto his back. He trotted along and hopped when the human woke up that it wouldn’t be too distressed.

Roman groaned, a jostle of movement plaguing his senses.

“Wha-” Roman’s eyes finally let him take in the sight of a horse’s forelegs, while his ears began to register a voice chattering away.

“I haven’t met many humans, however, so maybe you’ll be the nice kind! I wonder if we could be friends! Oh, you might want to go back home though. I don’t think I’d do too well in the settlements you have. Perhaps I could visit.”

Roman sat up and stared at the horn protruding clearly from the animal’s head.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Patton announced brightly, turning his head to look at him.

Roman screamed. Patton abruptly jolted, and Roman was on the ground before he could register he’d been bucked off. Patton froze and turned around, facing Roman with sympathy in his wide eyes.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry! Are you okay? You just startled me, that’s all. I hope I didn’t hurt you!”

Roman took in frantic breaths as he watched the unicorn (A real-life unicorn!) lean down to look at him. Talking to him! “You- what- How?”

Patton smiled, which was an odd expression on a horse (unicorn)’s face, but somehow seemed reassuring. “I assumed you were running away from the other human-person and you fell into the water and I think you hit your head, which should have healed ok by now, and I decided to take you with me until you woke up!”

“You’re talking. A unicorn- is talking to me.”

Patton laughed and the unicorn’s large form shifted into a human one, “Is this better?”

Roman’s eyes only widened, “You can shapeshift?” he screeched, scrambling backward.

Patton smiled brightly and nodded, glancing down at himself, inspecting the fabric of his shirt. He glanced at Roman, “Yep! It’s kinda fun!”

Roman shook his head and let himself fall onto his back, covering his eyes with one arm, “Am I dead?”

“No?” Patton said, leaning over him, “I’m fairly sure you’re alive.”

Roman let out a heavy breath and blinked a few times. He nodded, head bobbing faster as he began to sit up, “Okay, okay,” he swept his hands out as he let out another breath, “Alright, I got this. I’m cool. Cool as butter.”

Patton tilted his head, brow furrowed, “Feeling okay?”

Roman nodded and stood up, feet wavering under him. He held out his hands as if pleading for the ground to allow him to stay standing. Roman glanced up at the face of the- “Oh my gods you look kinda like me.”

“Oh do I?” Patton patted his face and frowned, “I don’t usually think too much about it- Should I-”

 “Don’t change it-” Roman yelled, voice squeaking. He held out a shaky hand, “Just-” he let out a breath, “I’ll adjust easier to- this- than to seeing you do that again.”

Patton gave a gentle smile and shrugged, “Alrighty.”

Roman then began to inspect the area around him. Eyes flickering over the terrain, brows furrowed in concentration.

“I’m Patton. By the way.”

“A pleasure to meet you Patton,” he said distractedly, kneeling down to touch a plant.

Patton leaned down next to him, “What’s your name? Can’t keep calling ya’ ‘human’.”

Roman turned, eyeing him, “You understand how strange that sounds, correct?”

“Well, I don’t have anything else to call you!” Patton said, pouting as he put his hands on his hips.

Roman sighed, “You may address me as-” he paused, eyes focusing on the ground. He stood and dusted off his pants. He glanced at Patton, “Ah. Roman. Yes, that will suffice.”

“Oh, right, that was what the other hu- I mean person,” Patton corrected himself slowly, “-was calling you.”

Roman forced a smile of sorts and nodded, “Yes. That’s my name.” Roman let out a laugh and inspected a leaf with far too much interest.

“I’ve heard it before that too,” Patton muttered, tapping his chin in thought, squinting over at Roman.

Roman stiffened. “Where are we?” he complained loudly, twirling to look at Patton.

“Uh-” Patton glanced around, “A forest?”

“You brought us here!”

Patton made an uneasy laugh of a sound, “I- get lost easy.”

Roman trudged along the path, kicking dirt and twigs as he walked. He cringed at the sound of Patton mirroring him and giggling.

“Why?” Roman shouted, turning to face him, “May I ask! Are you following me?”

Patton looked up, “Do you prefer walking alone?” He tilted his head like a puppy at the question.

Roman raised a finger, opening his mouth with an indignant sound. He let out a huff and turned back around. Patton smiled and jogged over so he was next to Roman.

“Where are you going? Home? Where do you live?”

Roman folded his arms around himself, fingers running over the raised patches on his shoulders, “Nowhere.”

“You can’t go nowhere, and surely you don’t live ‘nowhere.’ Even I live somewhere.”

“And where is that?” Roman said, turning slightly to look at Patton.

“Home is wherever I am!” Patton announced cheerfully, “Today, this forest shall be my home.”

“What about your family?” Roman said quickly, brows furrowed, “Friends?”

Patton blinked, “I make friends easily. Everyone can be a friend if you treat them like one!”

Roman glanced back down at the path, “Not everyone,” he mumbled. Patton tilted his head, concern written on his face. He took in a breath to speak before deciding against it.

Roman looked up at the sky and flickered into a smile, “Alright, I think we better get some food and shelter before the night falls.”

Patton smiled brightly, “I’m great at finding food!”

“Alright,” Roman announced, “Then I’ll collect things for a fire and some shelter.” Roman turned to find Patton replaced by a very excited unicorn, and he yelped.

“Warn me next time!” Roman complained.

Patton gave a sympathetic smile, the horn on his head glowing brightly. He bent his head down and glanced up, “Ooh, perfect!” he announced and with a flick of his tail, began to trot through the forest.

“Just remember to come back here!” Roman yelled after him.

“Okay!” Patton yelled back.

Roman rolled his eyes. “He better not bring back grass.”

He let out a heavy sigh and glanced around, “Alright. How the hell do I make a fire?”

 Roman had collected himself an assortment of wood, moss, leaves and various other items to set up a shelter for himself and his new friend. He frowned at his collection. It was not enough to cover a horse. Roman let out a frustrated huff and let it all drop. He brushed down his jacket, the white of the fabric turned green and brown in several areas.

A buzz of sound. Like the wingbeat of a rather large insect. Roman frowned, eyes darting over the region. For a moment, he was certain he was siking himself out. In the corner of his eyes, a blur of motion. Roman froze, eyes watching for whatever it was.

He heard it again and shifted quickly to find himself face to face with a fairy. The winged being looked rather offended by Roman blocking his intended path.

“Don’t turn me into a frog! Please!” Roman cried quickly. If there was one thing he knew about fairies and fae it was that they were not to be trifled with.

The fairy's stoic and annoyed expression turned into one of confoundment.

“Turn you-” Roman’s eyes widened as the fairy lifted his arms, wings a flurry of motion as he hovered in front of him. Roman took an instinctive step back.

“How!” he shouted, “Do you understand the scientific impossibility of such an act? It’s essentially shapeshifting! It makes no sense!”

Roman furrowed his brow, tilting his head, the fairy continued, now pacing in the air, “I can comprehend the idea that shapeshifters themselves have some genetic flexibility wired into their DNA to the point that they can manipulate their genetic sequence to become that of another being.”

The fairy paused and turned to look back at Roman, practically livid, “But you are a human and I am a faerie. It would make no sense!” By then the fairy’s voice began to sound like high-pitched bells, either too high or too small for Roman to properly make out.

“‘M back!” Patton announced, with a mouth full of... something in a basket. (Where did he get a basket?) Roman looked past the fairy towards Patton. Patton dropped his basket and gasped. The fairy had turned, and the unicorn and fairy met each other halfway. Patton crouched down so that he was at eye level with the creature, a smile breaking across his face.

“Logan!” Patton announced happily, his tail swishing with excitement, more like a dog than a horse in Roman’s mind. Unicorns were beginning to confuse him.

The fairy's voice was still unregistrable to Roman’s ears, but he could tell he was talking...maybe yelling actually. Roman frowned, the fairy was probably talking bad about him, wasn’t he? Patton looked at him with intent and interest before announcing, “Ooh! Ooh! I can do that too!”

Roman at first thought that Patton had entirely disappeared. Until he noticed the second small being flying in an excited manner. Roman leaned down only for Patton to grow in size, a sheepish smile on his face, “I think I surprised him a bit.” Roman glanced down, finding a small fairy lying limp in Patton’s palm.

“Did you kill him?” Roman announced loudly, pulling on his hair.

Roman watched Patton and Logan chat, voices too quiet or high or something for Roman to hear. He let out a loud sigh before muttering, “Excuse me. What is happening?” Roman asked, frowning down at the pair.

Roman gulped when the motions from the two blue-winged creatures paused and he could feel the color drain from his face as the fairy- Logan- was now much taller than him.

Logan tilted his head and looked Roman over, “Patton,” he said, voice sounding cold, yet casual, eyes still fixed on Roman. Roman glanced towards the unicorn (who was once again a unicorn, thankfully). Patton had a small smile on his face as he stood beside them, eyes looking between them. “Care to properly introduce me to your human?”

Roman made a series of noises and Patton smiled brightly, “Oh! Yeah! This is Roman, Roman, this is Logan. Oh hey, your names rhyme!”

A chill ran down Roman’s spine as Logan continued to stare down at him. The fairy’s lips turned up into a small smile. “Yes, it is quite amusing that our names rhyme. I quite like rhymes, don’t you Roman?”

He furrowed his brows, hoping his confusion didn’t show on his face.

“You are aware of what a rhyme is, yes?”

“Of course!” Roman announced, “I was just-” Roman swallowed down the rise in his voice’s pitch and let out a calming breath, “I- was just- put off guard. Is all. I didn’t know that Patton was friends with a-”

Logan quirked a brow and Roman wanted to fold in on himself.

“Logannnn,” Patton said chided playfully, “You’re scaring himmmm.”

“I am not,” Logan said, a matter of factly.

“Are too,” Patton said, pushing his lower lip into a heavily exaggerated pout. He stopped a hoof, punctuating his point.

Logan groaned loudly and readjusted his glasses. “My apologies, Roman, it appears I have frightened you in some manner and it was not my intention. I will not curse or harm you in any way, as I am sure Patton will ensure.” Logan turned towards Patton, “Does that suffice?” Patton nodded and Logan let out a huff of a sigh, shrinking and sitting on a twig Roman had collected.

“How do you know each other?” Roman gawked, looking between them with wide eyes.

Patton paused a moment before blinking and smiling, “Oh, we were kids. He helped me with some magical-ness and we just- pow- took off as friends!”

Logan furrowed his brow, giving the unicorn a small frown before he glanced back towards Roman.

Roman was looking up, the branches of the trees rustling as the cool winds fluttered through them. The moon rising overhead. “Uh... do you know how to build a fire?” Roman muttered, “I am,” he bit his lip, “mostly clueless as to the process.”

Patton shook his head.

Logan regarded Roman quietly before he stood up, balancing on his twig, “I am aware of the practical application of fire-building.” Logan jumped off the twig and grew to a larger size, “Would you appreciate my assistance?”

Roman looked the fairy over, “For what purpose to you?”

“The pleasure of teaching an individual such as yourself, practical skills?”

Roman glanced toward Patton. He sighed heavily and leaned back, “Finnee.”

Daydream AU taglist:

@importantrunawaystudentstuff @phantomofthesanderssides @nightmarejasmine @bunny222 @sealover89 @taleofacomet @syleon-lover-crazyfangirl1415 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @anonymous-gay-rainbow164 @thefallendog @khadij-al-kubra @pandagirl0730 @princeanxious @punch-you-with-friendship @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @pendulumtess @patton-in-name @ab-artist

I....I don’t know if I should tag my gen. art tag?? it’s not art?? but...they might also want to see this?? Fudge it. I’m doing it. If you don’t wanna be tagged in writing just lemme know.

@famders-positivity-blog @teacupfulofstarshine @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @punsterterry @i-will-physically-fight-you @youreacherry-blossom

Also, since I’m being brave: @broadwaytheanimatedseries

Since you asked about how they meet Roman. Virgil’s next. Don’t worry.

[shadowsong26fic]

Coming Attractions!

Hey, guess who’s on time for once! First Monday of the month, means another Coming Attractions post hurray!

Also, not fic, but my meta blog is up and running! Stuff is not super in order, as I just sort of grabbed things as I found them when I was copying stuff over from here and my personal tumblr, but every post is tagged with when it was originally posted. A lot of it is SW-related, since that’s where my head’s been for a while now, but some of it is other fandoms or my original stuff.

Anyway, moving on to fic updates!

Precipice:

As per usual, I’m not quite where I wanted to be, but I feel like I’m starting to gather some momentum now--the next chapter should be out probably tomorrow or the next day. After this arc, like I think I’ve mentioned before, I’m probably going to break off into a second fic, for reasons of length/convenience/a longer timeskip than usual/there’s a bit of a shift in pacing and tone starting with Arc Eight.

More or less: Arc 8’s working title is Escalation; and will line up with Rogue One and at least part of ANH. I have things more or less plotted out through Arc 14 (working title Endgame, though I may feel compelled to change that because MCU) which will line up with ROTJ and cover Palpatine’s final defeat. From there, I do actually have plans for further arcs/storylines relating to the aftermath of the war/rebuilding, in part to make this a Trilogy, in part because Arc 14 will leave a fair number of loose ends to tie off, and in part because I Want To, but my plans there are a lot vaguer. This is at least partly because I don’t have as many Events I can use as signposts while I’m constructing my plot, but also because I’m starting to waffle a bit on one key plot point that’s currently supposed to happen towards the end of Arc 14, which will have a major impact on events moving forward if I change it…so IDK.

Aaaaanyway. I’m hoping to get at least three chapters out in July, but we’ll see. It at least partly depends on how long the chapter after this week’s takes me. Which, on a related note, there’ll probably be at least one bonus fic (depending on how many different versions of said chapter I go through and how far I get on each one, which will probably make sense in context once said chapter is up), so keep an eye out for that.

Also, I keep getting/giving Hints about Dr. Naar’s backstory, so maybe something with him? IDK, we’ll see what happens.

Fun stuff in the pipeline, anyway!

Other SW fic:

I put up a companion to The Devoted earlier this month. There’ll probably be more eventually, but I’m not sure exactly what or when…

Also, more Valdemar AU! Specifically, Obi-Wan being Chosen. I do enjoy this AU and I should write more of the actual, y’know, Story, as opposed to these backstory bits…well, maybe I’ll get some more out this month, we shall see.

I swear I really do intend to get back to one of my AU outlines at some point, lol. The likeliest candidates at this point are continuing Ventress, or the Mask of Zorro/California Gold Rush Fusion No One One Person Asked For, or finally getting back to Let’s Go Steal a Crossover.

our faces like a mirror continues to be slow-going…I’m no longer sure that I’ll actually get any of it done/posted before the new TCW episodes come out and possibly joss large chunks of it. I have also decided that I don’t particularly care—if I do get jossed, unless the new content really appeals to me, I’m going to keep going with things the way I have them planned out and just make a note that I’m excluding things. Anyway, this project might get deferred and be my SWBB project for next year, but we shall see.

Still poking at Distaff and Auxiliaries and Phoenix!verse, I swear…haven’t made much/any progress this past month, but there will be more at some point. I genuinely plan for that, anyway. Also tentatively working on a Greek-mythology inspired piece that hat might be a Halloween fic for this year, if I can get it to work the way I want it to.

Non-SW Projects:

I didn’t get any origfic done in June, but hoping July will be better. Maybe the giant Kesshare character study saturation, if I can actually get that done, or some Lux content, or actually getting more of Untitled Intrigues Story polished and posted…or going back to one of my other projects that I haven’t posted anywhere, IDK. Something.

I’d like to say I might get back into actively writing BSG again this month, because a couple of my old AUs have been bouncing around in my brain lately, but I’m not sure I’ll actually follow through, lol. Looking at this list, I already have quite a bit up there…but who knows.

(Mainly Serenissima, which I’ve crossposted here a few times even though it’s been a couple years since there was any new content; I’ve also been considering rewriting For Sorrow Sung, because it’s super messy and I could do better now, whether I stuck with that particular premise or one of the other ones I built around Atia’s existence in an otherwise canon-aligned timeline (…look, I make AUs of my AUs, it’s a Thing even when I don’t have OCs involved); and also The Other Battlestar, which I had a few things written here and there but never really posted…anyway, to close out this month’s update, here’s a teaser snippet from that last AU (that I wrote like 5+ years ago and came across recently which maaaaay be why it’s waking up; this is unedited from where I found it) because Why Not:

She was reassembling her gun after cleaning it, calm and efficient. Baltar watched her hands, smooth, elegant; beautiful, even. Just like him, to find beauty even here.

She picked up the clip and looked up at him at last.

“You are here, Doctor,” she said, “because your expertise and experience are vital to our efforts. But there is a limit to what I can tolerate, even from you. Do I make myself clear?”

He felt Six’s arms twine around his neck, a hair’s breadth from snapping it, felt her breathing in his ear, but he couldn’t take his attention of Cain’s hands as she slid the clip back into place.

“Crystal.”

[whifferdills]

7, 17, 27, 37

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

fun fact about me, i completely forget what i’ve written as soon as i hit ‘publish’, and besides i fixate more on the...cumulative effect i guess? rather than on individual bits, so let’s just go with the one i usually bring up when i want to be all ‘no i don’t just write Jokes and Weird Sex Shit i am a serious writer’:

from “313″,

He remembers the rifle in his hands. Hiding in the shadows of the Panopticon, assembling the rifle, taking aim. The weight of it, crosshairs aligning, the slightest pressure on the trigger. The wrong man falling, half a universe away. He stands on the roof of the County Records building and watches Oswald in the window. (More numbers: the C2766 Mannlicher-Carcano rifle, 6.5 X-4s scope, control number VC836, paid for with U.S. postal money order No. 2,202,130,462 in the sum of $21.45 ($19.95 for the gun, $1.50 for shipping), and delivered to A. Hidell, P.O. Box 2915, Dallas Texas, on March 20, 1963. Hidden in a garage in Irving, Texas, wrapped in a green and brown blanket. History echoing around the facts it's reduced to. The smallest details.) 

which i enjoy for how flat it is, if that makes any sense. it’s absolutely intended as an emotional beat but it’s less of a direct tug on the heartstrings than i tend to default to, and i think it works in context. plus the requisite nods to canon, which i high-five myself for whenever i make em.

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

generally i start with a Bit, and then work from that. a line of dialogue or an image or w/e. for shorter stuff it’s mostly A to B from there, anything longer i do definitely write out of order with [placeholders] for all the stuff i dunno how to do yet.

27. How do you feel about collaborations? 

never done one. not against the idea? but i’m very persnickety about sentence structure so it might get a little heated. i miss when fic remixes were a thing, that’d be fun to do.

37. Talk about your current wips. 

firstly i’ve got the hugely unmanageable interactive fiction that idk what to do with, that’s a thing. every time i look at it it’s something new. right now it’s feeling like it ought to go on the back burner until 12 turns into 13 and then it can be my Big Damn 12 Fic.

secondly i’ve got this Brax As Lord Burner thing on hold because i realized i didn’t quite have a handle on him, but it’s 2k words in and really i should do something with it:

Susan, leaving everything behind, and she doesn't know that the man she's following must necessarily leave her. You can't take home with you when you go. Susan picking up the hem of her robes. Susan laughing like this is the most wonderful adventure. He's got a staser in his pocket and he's wondering what would happen if he actually went through with this. He won't, of course; he can't. This is his brother and grandniece, this is blood kin, Lungbarrow sitting silent and ancient in their hearts.

thirdly i have this Billvedole thing idk what it is

"Right, so." So. "So I might be, what'd you say, young and bright and - " Beautiful, he'd said. "And so on, but I'm also broke and alone and here, with you, in your box, with your very strange friend - he's strange, you're strange, I'm strange, and we've all chosen to be here, together, so whether or not you want to talk about your specific strangeness, just. Remember I have no stones to throw." She smiled widely, mostly genuinely, and went to go pat him on the shoulder before reconsidering at the last second. Instead, she gave him a thumbs-up.

and then a bunch of stuff i don’t need to talk about do not look me in the eyes how dare you shame me in my own house