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katranga · 7 years ago

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Part 1: The Miracle of Revision

Same disclaimer applies: Fic is for fun, and these tips are just suggestions!

Intro: Yes, you can write words!

Hello, I am back with more writing tips! This time I’m covering Motivation: AKA Can’t The Words Just Put Themselves On The Page? (As well as a detour into scene building, because that’s always helpful).

So! Stories need to be told. They aren’t going to appear out of nowhere, they need you to be seen and enjoyed by the masses!

So, just in time for NaNoWriMo, I figured I’d share my tips for actually writing the darn thing. I’ve never participated in NaNoWriMo, but I did write a 40k novella in a month once, and that’s aaaalmost the same lol. Anyway, for that I was kicking out about 2k a day, which is a LOT, and not what my usual word count per day just fyi. But that experience did convince me that I was fully capable of writing that much in a day—as long as I knew where I was going with the story, and just. didn’t. stop.

Don’t Stop Writing

That’s my main secret. Just don’t stop writing! Obviously you don’t have to write an epic in one sitting, but set a goal, and stick to it. Whether that be 100 words a day, or a 1,000. Don’t like going by word count? Set a timer. Write without stopping for 10 minutes. Or write one page a day. Anything is better than nothing!

Honestly, there are some days where all my “writing” is just—write a sentence, scroll through tumblr for 20 minutes, remember I’m supposed to be writing and get out a few more paragraphs, head back to tumblr to reward myself, rinse and repeat the whole day. On those days I’m shocked I ever get anything done.

But that’s the thing. Anything is better than nothing! 100 words a day is going to be a finished product eventually! Writing nothing will get you nothing.

It Doesn’t Have to Be Good

Now of course there’s the question: Cool, but how is setting a timer gonna help me?

Because you have to write. Take off your critique glasses and put on those author lenses! Don’t worry if it sounds good or not! First drafts are not about being good. It’s about starting.

Better writers than me have said editing it like sculpting, so the first draft is you getting together a huge hunk of clay that you can carve away and pick at later to make something beautiful. But you can’t carve air! And readers can’t read what you haven’t written. Try to keep that in mind.

So, so far we’ve got: set a goal, don’t worry about it being good.

Have a Map

To write without stopping for ten minutes, we need to know where we’re going, right?

Have a plan. That 40k novella was the most planned-out thing I’ve ever written. And sure, it changed a lot while I was writing, but I had a beginning, middle and end set out for the characters. I had settings, I had plot points, I had characters in mind (and for fics, a lot of these things are already there for you!)

Know where you’re going. Have a vague plan. Preferably more nailed down than ‘they fell in love’ because uhhh that’s almost every fic.

Some questions to think of beforehand:

How are they going to fall in love?

When are they going to realize it?

How will they react? (To their own realization and/or the other’s confession)

What are they going to do about it?

Why are they falling in love?

That’s a good one for motivation—I know we all think our OTP should be together, but why should your specific iteration of the characters fall in love? I like being convinced!! And it makes for a stronger story.

Of course you don’t have to have it written down (unless you want to!), but if there are a lot of little details, or fun dialogue exchanges you don’t wanna forget, you can definitely jot those down, and then write towards those moments.

To help plan out a fic, I recommend Max Kirin’s How to Plan a Novel video. Now, you may not need to plan out a fic, but if you’re having trouble with inspiration (which admittedly, I rarely do anymore—I’ve just got too many damn ideas) this could help, because it starts from the ground up. Honestly, I love anything by Max, so if you’re gonna spend your time not-writing, you may as well be watching their writing videos!

And if you don’t know exactly how the whole thing is going to end, that’s fine. At LEAST have an end goal in mind for the scene/chapter you’re writing. Every scene you write should have a point. It should move the story forward (or just be cute fluff, this is fic we’re talking about).

But if the fic is about them falling in love/realizing their feelings etc, each scene should getting them closer to that moment where they confess their true feelings (or come to whatever resolution the story has been heading toward).

This usually means the characters getting to know each other better, sharing their pasts and secrets, being vulnerable with each other etc.

And each scene should build on top of the last, so that the ending of the fic could never have happened without all that middle.

Under the cut we’re digging into a scene from Voltron, to look further into scene building.

Scene Building

We’re getting into the nitty-gritty of scene-building, because having a clear picture of how scenes work will hopefully prevent you from writing yourself into a hole of “what is happening here on this day, what am I even writing” (which has happened to me plenty of times).

The beats to hit in any scene are obviously beginning, middle, end, which can also can be treated as

Intro (why this is happening)

Build up (how the characters are reacting)

Climax (peak of the scene/decisions made)

Denouement (how characters react to the resolution, which can mix in with climax for short scenes)

Let’s go over the PINNACLE OF ROMANCE that is the scene from Voltron S3 where Lance stops by Keith’s room for support. I know anybody who’s seen it has already obsessed over it, and there have been a thousand posts about it already.

But let’s talk about why it’s such a well set-up scene.

Background: Lance is coming to Keith because he feels like a seventh wheel now that Shiro can fly the black lion again.

This is building on previous scenes—Lance has been feeling insecure for a while, but now that there are six paladins and only five lions, he’s really feeling worried, and he wants some comfort. Just like he offered to Keith, when Keith was freaking out about being the leader. Lance wouldn’t have come to Keith without these previous scenes to build on.

So, Lance explains his feelings, show his insecurities to Keith and asks for help.

Now, a character in Keith’s position could do a few things:

Tease him for being vulnerable

Dismiss his concerns

Address his concerns and assure Lance he’s needed in the team

Now… Keith kind of does the second one, with a dash of the third.

(He does NOT do the first, which would’ve meant a serious downturn in their relationship development. Which isn’t always bad in a fic, there needs to be obstacles, right? Sometimes one character pisses another off, and apologies need to happen to strengthen the friendship back up.)

But that doesn’t happen here, thank god.

We get Keith Trying His Best.

This ties in to his characterization—Keith isn’t super great with words or emotions. He’s clearly surprised that Lance came to him (but pleased all the same). In dismissing Lance’s concerns, Keith is TRYING to ease them. He’s trying to help.

So the basic outline of this scene is:

Lance: Keith, I need help. (Math speech--more pilots than there are lions)

Keith: No, you don’t. (”Things will work themselves out.”)

Lance: Oh. Okay ): ): (”Okay. Thanks.”)

Keith sees that Lance is disappointed when he’s leaving, so he says the ICONIC line of “Hey Lance? Leave the math to Pidge.” Which roughly translates to:

Keith: You don’t need help :) :) :) <3

And then there’s the subtext of Keith wanting to tell Lance he’s an important part of the team, but he’s socially awkward so he doesn’t, blah blah blah, we all know that.

And a good scene usually has subtext, an underlying current of what the characters aren’t saying—especially if they’re bad with their feelings, or just holding them back (which is like every fic ever).

Now, we can debate over whether or not that convo influenced Keith into leaving to join the Blade, but in a fic, that would DEFINITELY be a cause and effect situation, because Keith would want to solve Lance’s problem.

Lance: There are too many paladins. You guys don’t need me :(

Keith: I’ll leave. Now there are five paladins again. All fixed! :)

Which is obvs not what Lance meant but HEY, stories have conflict.

So, to review:

Intro: Lance has a concern and wants Keith’s input

Build up: Math talk, Lance asks Keith for reassurance that he isn’t useless

Climax: Keith tells Lance to stop overthinking, things will work themselves out; Lance isn’t satisfied with that, which Keith notices

Denouement: leave the math to Pidge (Keith trying his BEST)

Aaaaanyway, the point of this tip is, if you know where your scene is going (AKA why you’re writing the scene and why it’s important to the fic at large) then everything will go a lot smoother for you!

Distractions--Get Rid of Them

The final tip is about distractions, and besides locking yourself in an empty room with a good playlist, I’ve got some helpful apps/sites that suck out any distraction. Obviously both free.

Fighter’s Block – Website, super cute. You decide how many words you wanna write, and you keep typing, or the dragon defeats you. A health bar goes down when you stop typing, and goes up when you keep typing, to keep those fingers on the keys. (Don’t worry, even if the health bar gets to 0, your writing will not disappear, and it’ll save it for a while, too.)

Focus Writer – Free downloadable app for your computer. Basically fills your whole screen with a blank page so you’ve got no distractions. Totally customizable, you can pick the font, upload a background pic, turn off spellcheck, set goals for the day that it’ll keep track of so you can set a streak. Saves your documents. Basically, if you don’t have MS word or any other writing program, you can totally use this for all your writing.

Both of these are really useful when you know what you want to write, but you just can’t focus. They help me, at least!

So, that’s all I’ve got! Again, this got way too long, but I hope it helps! If you’ve got any questions, shoot ‘em my way, and I’ll do my best to help out.

#writing advice #fic writing advice #writing tips #writing motivation #katranga's fic tips #again this is just general writing advice lmao #i think i'll do dialogue next bc that's my fave #and i'll get into stuff i see in fic a lot #katranga writes

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trendingnewsb · 7 years ago

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How President Trump Has Ruined Comedy

My name is Daniel O’Brien. I’ve had sex in over two different countries and engaged in some light, patriotic hand stuff in four. I used to write a weekly column for the comedy website Cracked Dot Com, and now I am its Creative Director of Video and Content Development, because ever since my boss left, there has been no one around to stop me from adding words to my title, which I do all the time and without warning.

On the day that I started writing this article, I count seven pieces of content on the front page of Cracked which are explicitly political, and two which directly mention President Trump in the title and feature him in the thumbnail. In 2017, under my leadership as the Creative Director of Video, Content Development, and Espionage, we launched two new shows to cover the current administration: the short-lived After The Trump and the still-living Some News. We have always (always) talked about politics on this site, but we did not have equivalent content during either the Obama or Bush administrations. That is definitely true. On that score, we have changed.

A lot of people say they appreciate the political coverage we’ve done, but a few have expressed that they’d rather we avoid politics, and have done so in tones ranging from politely respectful to … less so.

Twitter

Some people tweet or reach out to us to say “I miss when Cracked was just funny” or “I came here to get AWAY from politics” or “Bring back The Daily Nooner” or

“You should just stick to comedy.”

Here’s the thing: I completely agree with you.

I also wish I could just do stupid fucking jokes again. Honestly, I think I’m better at them than I am as a contributor to Some News or shrieking about voter fraud. As important as that topic is to me (very, please go to Let America Vote to learn how you can help), I’d much rather it be covered by someone smarter than me while I focus on what I’m better at (which would be, gun to my head, 1,500 words of dialog-driven nonsense starring a fictionalized version of myself who can’t spell and is also a war criminal).

And is that a surprise to you? Haven’t you followed me? Don’t you think I’d rather be talking about Spider-Man and my stupid, stupid dick? I would!

I don’t want to cover Hillary Rodham Clinton substantively; I want to make jokes like “The ‘Rodham’ in her name is short for “‘Rodney Hampton.'” That’s as political as I’d like to be, but the realities of our world make it sort of impossible to stay out of politics, so I bought her friggin’ book instead. A few years ago, you could ask me about comics. Today I’m ready to host a boring conference on What Happened, Giant Of The Senate, The Devil’s Bargain, and whatever that piece of shit Ben Sasse called his piece-of-shit book. And I hate that about me.

You have to understand something. When we accidentally gave a flailing, possum-faced, rotting egg the most important job in the world, the people at Cracked didn’t say, “Aha! Finally an opportunity for us to pivot away from nonfiction comedic list articles and strange personality-driven columns to focus on our true love: a thoroughly researched topical news show about Nazis, Antifa, the works of Jean Paul Sartre, and the troubling ways those three things intercept in our increasingly terrifying world. Haw!” I don’t want to do that. None of us want to do that. We want to walk around the office pronouncing it “Jean Paul Star Trek” and then write videos about a man who got confused and had sex with a pumpkin at an adult pumpkin-carving party, which isn’t even a thing that exists.

You’ve no doubt seen a similar call to keep politics out of sports over the last few weeks. An historically unprecedented amount of football players and (lol) owners are kneeling or engaging in some other kind of protest to oppose either the president generally or the shooting of unarmed black men by police. (It’s not super clear at this point. It certainly began with the latter and seems to be getting hijacked by the former.) “I support the idea of the protest, but keep your politics out of sports,” is a sentiment you’ve no doubt seen.

They want us to stick to jokes, and I would LOVE to stick to jokes. I don’t know any professional football players personally, but I bet they’d also prefer to just play football. I bet they also long for a time when their Sundays were spent running and hitting and throwing and catching as hard as they can without the added stress of figuring out where they fit into a national, historical movement. It would be easier for them if there was no politics in football, because before there were politics in football, they didn’t have to think about kneeling or not, and they didn’t have to deal with the booing if they did. But now they have to consider it. As Jason pointed out months ago, even keeping politics out of sports (or pop culture or writing) is itself a political move.

(Also, we should, uh, probably cancel football. Goddammit I hate my growing awareness and responsibility!)

Politics is everywhere and everything is political. Which sucks for me, because I’m an idiot. I’m not some politics guy, I’m Deany O’Beanz, Cracked.com’s Creative Director of Upside-Down Sex Stuff. Believe me, when Wendy’s unveiled their new Bacon Mozzarella Burger last year, I wanted to write a parody song of the opening number to Hamilton, changing the lyrics from “Alexander Hamilton” to “Mozzarella Hamburger,” but our president told us all to boycott Hamilton, so now even mentioning it feels like a political statement.

…

The two dolla’, flavor-hauler with fresh garlic/

is a steal, darlin’, they are for real chargin’/

a measly two dollas. I am a food scholar.

Believe me, this shit is Delicious Incarnate.

I mean, you get it, that’s airtight, you love it, this shit would have been glorious.

I miss doing pointless jokes like that. I would rather be writing columns about dumb internet stuff and other weird things that used to occupy my brain. I miss doing jokes making fun of bad websites. I would still be making fun of bad websites if we had a better president. Like John Mayer’s haunted fucking nightmare self-indulgent dream wall. Look at this child’s sandbox of a website:

John Mayer

If you move the cursor around, John Mayer’s stupid eyes follow you all over town.

Nice website, dickface. Does the strap around your stupid head featuring vaguely Native American imagery represent your plan to appropriate another culture with your music? Your album’s called Search For Everything. Do you actually find anything, or is it mostly going to be a bunch of songs about fucking on a Sunday or whatever and realizing for the first time at 23 years old that the girls you have sex with will eventually turn into the mothers you won’t? You’ve got a bunch of dumb spinny art on your website. You, uh … suck. Hahahahaha.

That was just off the top of my head. If this were three years ago, I’d have squeezed, no joke, 6,000 words out of this website. But things being what they are, I only went to this website after John Mayer posted a surprisingly cogent argument for gun control in the wake of the tragic mass shooting in Las Vegas a few weeks ago.

Uproxx

Dammit! That’s where I’m at! Global Source of Ridicule and Professional Annoying Guy at a Party John Mayer only made his way to my radar because he was talking about sensible gun control.

All I want to do is talk to you all about The Property Brothers, a show I’m obsessed with. For those who don’t know, Property Brothers is a reality show allegedly about identical twin brothers, but in actuality they’re clones of the same cursed person and the only difference is that one of them does magic but the show doesn’t mention it, and I guess they flip, fix, build, or sell houses, depending on their mood. (I say “mood” instead of “moods” because, like their heart and dreams, they both share one mood at all times.) It’s the most compelling and unsettling TV I’ve ever seen. I’ve been working on an unauthorized novel about being the Property Brother who “got out” of the family, but I had to put it on hold because I need to remember to call my representatives about either the newest needlessly cruel healthcare bill or insidious attempts at gerrymandering or whatever the fuck haunted puppet Jefferson Fucking Beauregard Fucking Sessions the Fucking Third is up to when I can’t see him — which is often, because he’s only allowed to come out when innocent people are asleep.

One time I showed Jeff Sessions a missing child’s picture on the back of a milk carton, and he said, “That doesn’t look like much of anything to me.” His favorite TV show is “the weather,” and his least-favorite cartoons are the ones where two different kinds of animals are friends. He eats applesauce for every meal, and every night before prayers, he doesn’t have sex with a glass of warm milk — he just puts his dick in it, leaves it there for a while, and hums a little song about bugs to himself.

One time I met Jeff Sessions at a party and said, “Why are you so racist and awful?” and he took one of his teeth out and put it in my palm and said “Shh,” and then winked like “I’ll never tell,” but legit he is the most dangerous person in America right now. Anyway, that tooth sprouted legs and sprinted to Charlottesville and Sessions is gunning for Nazi MVP and I hate that most of my time is spent tracking Sessions when I used to just do jokes about movies.

This is going to feel like an abrupt transition, but I promise it’s related. The new It is the biggest movie in the world right now, shattering records constantly, and I would love to talk about it. But do you want to know what my over-thought, Daniel O’Brien, Obsessive Pop Culture Disorder-esque observations are?

1. This movie resonated with so many people because the concept of an overtly, undeniably evil force emerging in a hugely visible way after being hitherto concealed right beneath an allegedly safe town’s surface for so long is striking a chord with a lot of people who are just waking up to the fact that the systemic and institutionalized issues of real racism which we thought we conquered a hundred times are still here, still strong, and still evil. We thought Derry was safe, but no, the monster was waiting in the shadows for the right time to pop out. We had civil rights and elected a black president, so we thought everything was cool … until actual Nazis who lived next door suddenly stopped being too ashamed to admit they were Nazis the whole time.

2. Pennywise is such an effective monster for a lot of modern Americans who can relate to the idea of an evil clown who only exists because (and indeed, gets stronger when) we give it attention.

I used to talk about how Luke Skywalker was probably a virgin. Are you fucking kidding me? I’m incapable of not finding parallels to our current political situation. Show me an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants from 2001 today, and I guarantee you I’ll find a link between Steve Bannon and Plankton, and what’s weirder is that I will completely believe it because I see politics everywhere now.

I want to spend too much time over-analyzing the latest Spider-Man movie, because as Cracked’s Creative Director of Video with a Minor in Spider-Man and a Concentration in International Hot-Tubbing, people expect me to have an informed take on all things Spider-Man. Instead I’ve spent six months researching the fucking Mercer family, a clown car cabal of rich maniacs who can singlehandedly control the results of an election and make the Koch Brothers seem tame by comparison. Please get excited about my next book, I Used To Make Jokes Until I Realized The Corrupt And Insane Mercer Family Will Buy Our Next Four Presidential Elections, due sometime in 20-never, because I’ll be too sad to write it.

I can’t stay out of politics, because politics is everywhere. When the president yells about Saturday Night Live, the NFL, the NBA, the Emmy Awards, Facebook, and a dozen other things in the same 30-day period, my even mentioning those things means whatever I’m talking about is political in some way.

At Cracked, we come into work every day to brainstorm ideas for content, and consistently the most important thing that’s happening in the world at any given time has been related to our president. I mean, there was one day a few months ago when a five-star idiot was like, “I bravely love my fucking big fat wife so much, you guys should give me a medal,” and we all had some tremendous apolitical fun with that for about 24 hours, but otherwise it’s been the Trump show, all day, every day.

(God, I miss that golden idiot who thought grabbing a big ass should make him mayor.)

I can’t keep politics out of my work on Cracked because I can’t keep it out of my own private life. When I visit my family, we’ll catch up and talk about recent movies we’ve seen, and eventually the conversation will end up like, “Yeah, work’s going great, I’ve been golfing more, I went to the Aquarium of the Pacific for the first time, the New York Football Giants are fucking garbage, it’s a shame about Puerto Rico, and did you hear what outrageous thing the president said about [X]?” If you’re catching up with your family, how do you NOT mention the most recent thing our president did?

Or I’ll be on a first date with someone, exchanging totally normal basic, casual first date conversation stuff (“Do you think Big Boi should be considered an elite rapper?” or “When was the first time in your life you interacted with someone of a different race from you?”), and without fail, one person will bring up the latest antics of our president. These are the kinds of conversations I have on a date with a new person:

Person: So what do you do in your free time?

Daniel: I like to run, I hang out with my dog, I read a bunch. But I guess most of my time is spent staring at Axios, Twitter, and The Week to stay up to date on our increasingly warlike tensions with North Korea.

Person: We can’t listen to “Rocket Man” anymore!

Daniel: I KNOW, HE TOOK IT FROM US!

Or:

Daniel: So, you like your job?

Person: I do. I like the people I work with, the hours are good, it’s challenging, the benefits are decent.

Daniel: …

Person: Of course, all of our benefits may change if this new GOP healthcare bill gets rammed through.

Daniel: Without a proper CBO score.

Person: Right.

Daniel: Do we know where the votes stand now?

Person: Paul is definitely a ‘No,’ we’re still waiting on Murkowski and Collins because they haven’t officially declared yet.

Daniel: It’s still too close.

Person: Pack of bastards.

Daniel: Pack of halfwit bastards.

Daniel O’Brien, Cracked’s Creative Director of Video and Slam Dunk Czar.

I know I’m more informed today than I’ve ever been in my entire life, and that’s probably good, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m so fucking bummed about the amount of senators I know the names of. Seven years ago, if someone asked me to name ten senators, I’d say, “Like, government senators or the old baseball team the Senators? Either way, I don’t know, maybe two? At any rate, I’m not going to answer your question because the series finale of Lost is about to air and it’s gonna be perfect, babyyyyy, gonna answer all of Deany’s questions, babyyyyyy! ‘California Gurls’! Angry Birds! It’s still okay to like Louis C.K.! ‘Magic’ feat. Weezer! it is two thousand teeeeeeeeeeen!”

The president wants us to boycott the NFL, the Golden State Warriors, most news, Facebook, SNL, the Emmys, uh … Puerto Rico, I guess. I can’t keep politics out of Cracked because I can’t keep it out of anything, and I don’t know how anyone does. If I showed up in a town and the mayor was like, “Oh, we don’t talk about politics here, we don’t even pay attention to it,” I’d think “Wow, you’re going to miss some pretty intense shit. One time at work I went to the bathroom for a full 20 minutes, and when I got back to my desk, Reince Priebus had resigned and Scaramucci’s wife had filed for divorce and Eric Trump’s pubes turned see-thru and we probably loosely declared war on someone.”

And again, I also wish I could go back to doing dumb jokes. And I’m not weaving in political stuff because I feel some journalistic obligation; I’m doing it because I don’t think it’s possible to talk about anything without the framework of politics. Or I guess I can talk about football through the framework of how we should stop watching it because of CTE? Would that be better? Like, it’s a bummer that Colin Kaepernick doesn’t have a job while some barely sentient mannequin gets paid millions to throw for the Bears, but maybe it’s ultimately a good thing, because it lowers the chance that Kap will get the hot new murder brain damage that’s sweeping the sports nation? Is that … better?

Daniel O’Brien is Cracked’s Strongest Intern and the author of How to Fight Presidents and the children’s book adaptation, Your Presidential Fantasy Dream Team, both of which you can buy wherever you want. He also wasn’t lying about that Property Brothers book. He will be releasing it for free one chapter at a time and you can get it if you subscribe to his newsletter right here.

If you loved this article and want more content like this, support our site with a visit to our Contribution Page. Please and thank you.

For more, check out 8 Less Known Trump Stories That’d Derail Any Other Campaign and How Half Of America Lost Its F**king Mind.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel to see what other kinds of trouble Trump’s brain-worms have gotten up to in A Brief History Of Donald Trump’s Many, Many, Many Lawsuits, and watch other videos you won’t see on the site!

Also follow us on Facebook. You won’t regret it.

Want to know how to go mano-a-mano with a president? Daniel O’Brien can help with How to Fight Presidents: Defending Yourself Against the Badasses Who Ran This Country.

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turnabouttoothbrush · 8 years ago

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Metal Gear High, Chapter One

My older brother submitted a fic with the comment, “Thanks, AO3. Metal Gear high school AU bashing EVA”

Excuse me but what

Why would you bash EVA, she’s AMAZING

Anyway, out-of-character sporking for both chapters because there are only two (it’s apparently abandoned) and it’s quicker & easier to do. Plus I need to work on that thing for that NPO lmao.

...speaking of out-of-character, GUESS WHAT THIS IS TAGGED AS

It’s like a neon warning sign that says “Please spork me!!”

And speaking of tags, EVA’s name is misspelled as “Eve” in them.

What am I getting myself into here.

Summary: AU Metal Gear Series. Adam is the new kid in school where his Mother, Joy, has gotten a job as the new counselor. OOC abounds and established and future male/male relationships.

Also I fuckin’ hate high school AUs.

High school fucking SUCKS, it was the literal four worst years of my life - granted it was because of things largely unrelated to school itself but it sure as shit didn’t help. High school is, for anyone except those at the very top of the social ladder, a terrible experience that you pretty must just endure so you can get your diploma and never look back.

I do not understand why it is romanticized so much.

The first day of school and Adam was exactly on time. He was always on time, perhaps a few minutes early, but he was never late. It was a new high school, a new way of life, new strange subcultures and interconnected rivalries, and incestuous power plays by those who thought high school popularity was the ultimate power high.

Lol those are the people who are gonna be asking me what kind of fries I want while I roll past their window in my BMW

...wait, “incestuous power plays”?

It was a pit of despair, anxiety, hormones, pheromones, testosterone, sexual frustration, peer pressure and awkward stages for people forced into small, tightly packed rooms for almost eight hours a day.

I think we can basically guarantee, though, that we’re not going to be seeing much of the classes.

You know, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure most high school AUs don’t have that kind of thing in them because they’re written by middle schoolers who don’t know yet that high school is a horrible, horrible place. Which is why they write high school AUs!

Although referring to high school as “a pit of despair” does make me think the author’s served their time...

Adam wouldn’t walk in those double glass doors with the large carved snake hissing down and threatening those who approached as some wide-eyed innocent fresh from middle school.

I had to re-read this sentence three times before I realized that the snake statue is over the door or something, as opposed to Ocelot (man, fuck using their ‘real’ names, get that weak shit outta here boy) carrying it in with him for some reason.

Intimidation factor?

“Apparently it’s the school’s mascot for their sports team the Metal Snakes.” Joy said, sipping her coffee.

Adam grunted in response.

They were sitting in her classic white ford mustang, both of them preparing themselves.

“Although the snake might represent a threat to the opposing team’s masculinity. A penis with fangs, or, don’t fuck with me.” Joy said.

A penis with-

F U C K I N G H E L L

Also, I guess the fact that that really doesn’t sound like something the Boss would say kind of goes without saying.

“I see you’re just as excited as I am.”

Joy sighed. “Adam, I know the past few months have been hard…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

youtube

Joy eyed him carefully then nodded. “Alright. Now, do you want to go in first and I’ll follow? Or should I go in first and then you?”

Adam shifted in his seat, glaring at the threatening snake.

“If you go in first, it should distract enough attention for me to get to my locker and homeroom.” He said.

Are there high schools out there that actually, like, have homerooms? Mine didn’t. Had ‘em in middle school, and there was this homeroom-esque sort of thing in the middle of the day until they changed it, but...

“Practical.” Joy said. “Alright, I’ll see you after class? Do you want me to drive you home or do you want to walk home?”

“I’ll walk.” Adam sighed.

Joy eyed him critically.

Can you believe there’s no YouTube compilation of every time the Boss looks at Ocelot like he’s disappointed her? Because that’s basically every time she looks at him in MGS3.

“As you wish.” She said. She grabbed her purse and her book satchel which contained her laptop and important documents. Before she slid out of her car, she squeezed Adam’s arm.

Adam watched as she walked towards the wide double glass doors, balancing her belongings and her coffee while some of the early students watched her with interest and when she entered the school, they started whispering amongst each other.

Side note: Can you imagine the Boss as a school counselor? It’d be a hell of a thing, wouldn’t it?

What's it going to be? Loyalty to your chosen college, or loyalty to me? Your chosen college, or your old counselor? The career goal, or your beliefs? Your duty to your school, or your personal feelings? You don't know the truth yet. But sooner or later you'll have to choose.

Adam took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and stepped out of the car. He shouldered his backpack, pulled on his red scarf and locked the door, heading towards the schools double doors.

The group of whispering students paused when he passed them. He opened the glass doors and entered just as the girls of the group started to whisper about him.

Hey author does the word “cliché” mean anything to you

I want the twist to be that no one’s even talking about him, because truly no one gives a fuck about ~the new kid~ except for the people who just highkey wanna make more friends. But I think we all know that, even if this fic had been completed, there wouldn’t have been a twist at all.

He made a bee line for the office, where he saw his mother chatting with the receptionist.

Joy glanced at him and nodded, leaving the office without a single word and the receptionist, a perky woman in her late thirties smiled, pushing him a printout sheet.

“Your home room is in the music room, leave the office and take the first right and it’s the fifth floor on your left.

wait what

how tall is this building

Your locker combo is here,” she pointed to a three double digit code. “And your schedule is at the bottom. School ID day is in a week, but until then you can download your schedule off the schools website using your mom’s password and ID. And if you’re late for a class, don’t worry. The teachers have been notified and you’re given a week to figure everything out.”

How far is this into the schoolyear, anyway? With a different character I would have guessed the end of the first semester/beginning of the second semester, since a mention of a scarf would indicate the winter months, but this is Ocelot we’re talking about...

“Thanks,” Adam mumbled, trailing his fingers across the sheet.

“I hope you enjoy Patriots High.” She called as Adam left the office.

...

THAT’S FUCKING AWFUL

He was examining his class list, mentally ticking off the classes. Three different types of advanced maths, geography, the mandatory second language course, and science. He wrinkled his nose. He knew what this was. These courses would leave him drowning in homework and focused to the point of ignoring the world around him. It would keep him occupied and busy and leave no time for getting distracted or…

Backstabbing people?

Also who the hell takes three different math classes in one year

His heart sank and he felt that grip around his neck tighten.

Adam loosened his scarf, swallowing roughly.

He couldn’t do that here, not now.

...?

youtube

Yes?

Not with the rising crowd of murmuring and voices and the increasing noises of more students arriving on the morning buses.

He followed the instructions, turning at the first right and approaching the music room door when a loud crash of drums came from the other side. He opened the door just in time to see a nerdy, skinny looking teen around Adam’s age with shaggy hair and glasses struggling to stand amongst a collapsed drum set.

Adam checked the room; there was nobody in the room except for the nerdy kid. There was a circle of chairs in the middle of the room facing one another.

Um... why...??

Just then, the kid collapsed again with a yelp, this time behind a collapsed set of music stands and Adam sighed, entering the room. He flung his backpack into one of the corners and went to the nerdy kid, helping him to stand.

“You okay?” Adam asked.

The nerdy kid was brushing his hoodie, frowning as he pecked at a piece of fabric from the middle of the ironed on image of an anime girl with big pigtails riding a giant two legged tank.

Well I guess Ocelot doesn’t have to be worried about being judged now, not when this walking bully bait exists

Also if y’all were expecting me to ask who the living blue fuck would wear a hoodie like that to school, just lemme remind you that I ran an animé club when I was in high school. I’ve seen some shit.

He glanced up at Adam, his eyes widening before he pushed up his glasses.

“You-you’re talking to me?” The nerd asked.

“Yeah,” Adam said slowly, starting to scowl.

“O-oh! You must be new! My name is Hal. Hal Emmerich, but my friends call me Otacon. Well, at least my online friends call me Otacon.” Hal said, tilting his head.

I take it this fic is going to HARDCORE miss the opportunity to actually explore the implications of the Boss also being, in a kinda sorta really weird way, Otacon’s mom. There isn’t much to say about it wrt to canon, due to the extremely limited (potential, off-screen) interaction between Ocelot and Otacon, so the one upside to a silly “EVERYONE IS THE SAME AGE” AU is that it actually does give you the chance to do that. But of course the author is going to just piss that away because it’ll distract from the hot yaois and the EVA-bashing.

“I’m Adam. I’m, ah, I’m new here.”

“Well, Adam, let me just warn you: you don’t want to be caught talking to me. I’m the school pariah so,

I will ask what kind of tiny-ass backwards school this must be to have a weeb be a friendless pariah - the pariah, too, like there’s only one. At my high school, all the outcasts and social fuckups were actually their own social stratum - granted, way at the bottom, but nonetheless they had their circle. (I should know, they all knew me and mostly deferred to me as well, haha. I... have been referred to as “Nerd Voldemort” before, after a comment about the animé club being my ‘inner circle’...)

Then again, I went to the largest high school in the state, and the 65th largest public high school in the country. So...

if you don’t want your popularity to die a slow and painful death, you’d best keep away.” Hal laughed, rubbing the back of his head.

Adam scowled.

“I don’t give a fuck what people think.”

Hal paused then smiled wearily.

“You will if the Snakes take an interest in you.” Hal said.

Adam rolled his eyes and left Hal, grabbing his backpack and took one of the chairs.

Snakes. Great, gangs.

Do they have gangs at small high schools? They sure do at big ones, but again - a large high school would develop a social structure that even a dude with an animé hoodie could easily find his place in.

Adam pulled out his phone, flicking through to see if there were any new messages.

“Um…”

Adam glanced up. Hal was standing next to him, looking nervous.

“Spit it out.” Adam sighed.

“Can I sit next to you?” Hal asked.

A simple request.

Adam nodded.

I scrolled back up to check and make sure that Ocelot/Otacon wasn’t a listed pairing for this. It isn’t.

I’m kind of disappointed.

I just think they’d have an interesting dynamic together, really I’d 100% take something non-shippy, but either way the only fics I’ve read that had any significant interaction between the two were fucking Choke and another fic that was also really really really friggin stupid and did the exact same thing with them.

Hal grinned, practically beaming as he took the seat. “Thanks. Hey, um, if there’s anything you want to know about the school, or any of the students, or teachers, or the clicks and gangs, I’m your person.”

Adam bit his inner cheek.

‘Be patient. Don’t explode. Some of them are just innocent, Adam. You know that.’ Joy’s voice resonated in his head.

I really hope this is/was leading up to a school shooting subplot.

“Thanks.” Adam said.

Hal smiled and leaned back in his own chair and pulled out his phone from his hoodie’s pocket. It too was covered in a picture of an anime character.

“Ummm…”

“What?”

“Could I add your number?” Hal asked, his voice small.

Adam thought about it for a few moments then shrugged. If Hal got to be too annoying or he got fed up he could just block him. He told Adam his number and as soon as he did that, Adam immediately got a text from Otacon.

Adam wrinkled his nose and he didn’t bother to respond.

You could almost say he was being... catty

They sat in silence as the minutes passed until the door opened and several people poured into the room and Adam’s phone started vibrating like crazy.

‘Look out!’

Adam blinked at his phone, confused, and opened his mouth to ask what Hal meant when two hands gripped his shoulders from behind.

“You must be the new guy.”

Adam clenched his jaw, and looked up.

Smiling down at him was a blond male wearing aviator glasses and military fatigues.

Who the living blue fuck would wear military fatigues to school?

“Fresh meat,” He purred and Adam felt his lips curling in disgust.

“Back off, Kaz.” A gravelled voice next to him and Kaz let go of Adam’s shoulders, instead ruffling Hal’s hair until Hal sputtered, waving at his hands.

Adam turned to the voice and a man, no, a teenager met Adam’s. He was starting to sport a serious beard and his hair was messy. Adam could barely grow peach fuzz and here was someone just a month short of an Amish beard. His clothes were rumpled too, like he had slept in them, he smelled faintly of cigar smoke, and he had a torn bandanna wrapped around his forehead, keeping his hair out of his eyes.

But his eyes, he had two brilliant blue eyes.

GEE I WONDER

WHAT

THE MAIN PAIRING FOR THIS FIC COULD POSSIBLY BE HMM I DUNNO

Then again, if Ocelot didn’t get the doki-dokis immediately upon seeing Snake, I would say that’d be out-of-character.

“John.” He rumbled again.

“Adam.”

John nodded, his eyes taking in Adam’s scarf. He looked like he was about to say something when a blur of giggling blonde landed on his lap.

“John you left me behind this morning!” The giggling blonde said, cupping his jaw and leaning close.

“Sorry, Eve.”

EVA. It’s EVA. E-V-A, with an “a”. Get it right. It’s not like “Eva” isn’t an actual name, anyway.

You really shouldn’t be writing fanfic if you spell a three-letter name wrong - let alone if the character in question is KIND OF FREAKIN’ IMPORTANT TO THE SOURCE MATERIAL.

John rumbled, his eyes sparkling as Eve smiled coltishly. She was wearing skinny jeans and a sweater maybe one size too small. John wrapped his arms around her waist, holding onto her as she bounced on his thigh.

“Get a room,” Another gravelled voice, softer, and Adam glanced past the giggling blond to see what had to be John’s twin brother. Wild hair, blue eyes, and in desperate need of a shave. His clothes were a bit less rumpled like he had put some effort into his appearance before giving up. He had a similar bandana except his wasn’t shredded at the ends.

“Aww, baby brother needs to get laid.”

>making Solid BB’s brother

Kaz laughed, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Fuck off Kaz!” John’s twin snapped.

“Dave, be good.” John scolded.

“Yeah, Dave.” Eve mocked.

That’s his mom

Dave’s jaw clenched and he opened his mouth when his phone chimed in his pocket. He pulled it out, turning his back to the others as he started to slowly text back.

The bell rang.

Adam looked around the room.

Still no teacher.

Dave was slowly texting, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. Kaz was straightening his military fatigues (honestly who wears shit like that to school anyway?),

Hey, whose job is it to ask those kinds of questions here?!

Eve was nuzzling into John’s neck, giggling softly, and John had his head tipped back, smiling. And Hal?

Adam glanced over at Hal. His foot was twitching and he was chewing on his bottom lip. He looked concerned, his thumbs dancing across this phones screen.

Golly I wonder who he could be texting

It’s not like Solicon is tagged as one of the ships or anything

Adam frowned as he took in the music room.

Where the hell was the teacher?

The door to the room slowly creaked open and an old, old, incredibly old man slowly entered. He was hunched over, bald, and looked like he was sleeping.

“Morning Students,” The old man mumbled as he crept towards the chair facing their group.

“Good morning Mr. Ender.”

...

....

It’s a couple years too late for a Minecraft joke, isn’t it...?

Hal chirped, tucking his phone into his hoodie pocket.

Kaz straightened his back, watching the old man critically. Dave pocketed his phone, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, propping his chin on his hand. John gently eased Eve away from his face, shushing her even as she rubbed her nose against his.

“Morning Hal.” Mr. Ender said, standing at the chair and slowly easing himself into it. He sighed when he finally sat down. He examined the small group and then turned his focus on Adam.

“You must be the new student, Adamska?”

“Adamska?” Eve asked. “What kind of name is Adamska?” She mocked.

“Russian, if I’m not wrong?” Mr. Ender asked.

Adam nodded.

“Do. You. Speak. English?” Eve asked loudly.

Kaz chuckled.

On the plus side, I’m always down for Kaz being a dick to Ocelot. (I ship it...)

Adam clenched his hands, ignoring her.

“Now, now, Eve. Be nice.” Mr. Ender chided. “If it hasn’t already been said, let me welcome you to Patriot’s High. Even though we’re a small high school,

EVIDENCE THAT I AM PSYCHIC CONTINUES TO PILE UP

Or the author actually wrote a ‘small school’ atmosphere semi-competently. At the very least, I was able to identify it as not working the way a large high school would.

we hope you feel at home here. I want you to think of this group as a safe group, a group of friends and family so if you have any difficulties you can turn to your fellow students if you need help. Now, why don’t you start off by telling us a little about yourself?”

“Like what?” Adam cleared his throat.

“Oh I don’t know, where were you going to school before you came here?” Mr. Ender said.

Suddenly everybody was staring at Adam.

He could feel that prickling sensation on the back of his neck and he tugged on his red scarf.

Please tell me he’s, like, a werecat or something and that’s what all these lines are about. Please? It’d make this more interesting.

“New York. It was a high school for the gifted.” Adam explained quietly.

“Well that explains everything.” Kaz said, shaking his head sadly. “We’ve got another gifted student.”

“It was Arsenal Academy,

just fuck me up

thank you very much.” Adam snapped.

“You went to Arsenal Academy!” Hal gasped. “That is the top technical school in the country! You have to be amazing to get in there! Why did you leave?”

Adam sat back in his chair and squared his jaw.

He didn’t catch John’s side glance as Mr. Ender coughed then cleared his throat.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”

Hopefully more than me.

He said as the bell rang overhead. “Now if you have any questions, just let me know and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

“Thanks,” Adam said as Dave, John, Eve and Kaz all rose and let the room. He grabbed his backpack and got up as students started filling the room,

Come to think of it, why is the End a music teacher, anyway? What kind of thought went into this? Generously assuming that any did...

Hal trailing behind him.

“Hey…”

“What?” Adam asked.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Hal asked.

Adam paused and then he dug out his course schedule. He literally had no idea where he was supposed to go. Hal peered over his shoulder and made a happy sound in his throat.

“We’re in the same math classes!”

Adam sighed.

“Lead the way.” He motioned to the increasing tide of students.

That’s basically the end of the first chapter. As far as a first chapter goes, it was alright. Introduced our setting and our main players. Really, some more should have happened, but considering it was short, I’ll let it slide.

Main problem is the fact that it’s a fuckin’ #Slow Build #Male/Male #Male Slash #All the fucking drama high school AU, with, so far as we can tell at this point, no actual interesting plot (or at least subplot!) to carry it.

Shit’s boring, guys. Why do people write these?

To Be Continued...

#sporking #airey #fanfiction #mgs

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trendingnewsb · 7 years ago

Text

How President Trump Has Ruined Comedy

Twitter

Some people tweet or reach out to us to say “I miss when Cracked was just funny” or “I came here to get AWAY from politics” or “Bring back The Daily Nooner” or

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…

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a measly two dollas. I am a food scholar.

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If you move the cursor around, John Mayer’s stupid eyes follow you all over town.

Uproxx

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2. Pennywise is such an effective monster for a lot of modern Americans who can relate to the idea of an evil clown who only exists because (and indeed, gets stronger when) we give it attention.

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Daniel O’Brien, Cracked’s Creative Director of Video and Slam Dunk Czar.

If you loved this article and want more content like this, support our site with a visit to our Contribution Page. Please and thank you.

For more, check out 8 Less Known Trump Stories That’d Derail Any Other Campaign and How Half Of America Lost Its F**king Mind.

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