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bettsfic · 5 years ago

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Hello! Can I have a piece of advice regarding descriptions when it comes to writing? I think my paragraphs seem bland and lack powerful descriptions that pull the readers in. I can’t seem to describe well a certain place or figure since I’m having a hard time in incorporating the five senses when writing.

i’m sorry to say, anon, this is the eternal problem. (unless you are a poet writing prose, and then description is probably the only thing that isn’t a problem.)

here are some tips that are not necessarily “here’s how you should do it” but “here’s some stuff you could try.”

save it for another draft/layer it in

i almost never put imagery into my first two drafts. description gets woven in over time. think of it the way an artist begins a painting. usually they sketch it out on canvas before they begin painting. then, the first layer of paint is bold shapes, and after layer upon layer, you begin to see the finer details.

if you force yourself to think about description AND conflict AND character AND dialogue AND pacing AND voice AND style all at once, you’re going to exhaust yourself. when writing, you can only do so much at once. having a whole draft where the goal is to spot places to add exposition is very helpful in minimizing the pressure early on.

consider both relevance and familiarity

the sad difference between consciousness and prose, as much as consciousness sometimes wants to be prose and vice versa, is that consciousness is not linear, and only a single translation from Environment to Brain needs to occur.

prose, however, must be linear. you can only read one letter of one sentence at a time. moreover, it’s translated twice: Environment to Brain, then Brain to Squiggly Black Lines On A Page. it is an astronomical effort to turn consciousness into prose, and we do it all the time. i’m doing it right now.

i have a whole 2-hour Brief Intro to Semiotics (and how it relates to prose) lecture that i’ll skip in order to reach the conclusion: when you are writing, description can be narrowed down into 1) relevance and 2) unfamiliarity.

by relevance i mean, what does the POV character notice and attend to? what is necessary to know in order to move the plot forward?

by unfamiliarity i mean, it’s a waste of word count to have your character go into the bathroom and point out that there is a toilet. when you write “bathroom” (or lavatory, loo, washroom, etc.) your reader, regardless of who or where they are, will know a toilet is in that room.

however, let’s say it’s the very first scene in your story. your character goes into the bathroom, hands shaking as they topple a bottle of pills into their palm. describing the bathroom goes a long way in setting the scene. is the place dirty? small? does it smell? stalls or no? is the lock broken?

if you describe an opulent bathroom complete with velvet couch, underpaid attendant, and sensor-based faucets, that tells me a lot about the potential circumstance of this character. rich maybe? at a party? a banquet?

if you describe a dingy small gas station bathroom with graffiti on the walls, that tells me the character is traveling, maybe. or desperate somehow. what would lead somebody to take drugs in a gas station bathroom? it’s unexpected. unfamiliar. it leads to the conflict.

describe things using movement and active verbs

a narrative always exists in space and time, and possesses some kind of movement. stories always start somewhere and end somewhere. so it stands to reason that your description should move with the action. and to make description move, you often need to employ effective verbs.

“there was a green chair” is a still-life. nothing is really happening. it’s just a fact. “she sat in the green chair” gives us the image of an action. a character is sitting in a chair which is green. is it important the chair is green? i hope so. maybe there is also a red chair, and these colors are symbolic of something or whatever.

also consider the stacking of adjectives: “there was a green, plastic, small, wobbly chair” could maybe be “the green plastic chair wobbled as she sat. it was too small for her, and the sides dug uncomfortably into her ample backside.” that’s terrible, but you get my point. hopefully. you See far more in the latter than the former, in part because the description is moving along with the story.

make stuff move, or make people move stuff. let verbs do your heavy lifting.

read poetry

a lot of poetry is just images stacked on top of one another. poets are masters of description. if you want to learn how to craft an image with words, read poetry until your eyes bleed. whenever you read a line or stanza and it conjures a specific picture in your brain that your brain would otherwise not have conjured, take a closer look and figure out how they did that. teach yourself how the strings are pulled.

you probably need less description than you think you do

ever since a mentor once looked me dead in the eye and said of my work, “it’s pretty but i don’t see anything,” i’ve been busting my ass to drench all my prose with beautiful and loving imagery. (in his defense, the assignment he had given me was, in fact, to write a story full of description. i did not, because it turns out i could not.)

i’ve had mixed results. mostly i end up with a bloated word count and a lot of ways to envision sunlight falling onto a bed through half-closed blinds. i’m not proud.

in my most recent project, however, i finally (FINALLY) made a main character who doesn’t notice jack shit. as an observant and perceptive person, i find this abhorrent, but she is not me. she is an angry teenage girl who doesn’t give a fuck about anything that is not an immediate threat or prize.

so after years desperately flooding my narration with description, i leaned the opposite direction. i’m good at voice and style. i prioritized voice and style. and here’s what happened:

nothing.

i say my story is set in the suburbs, you don’t then need a whole extra paragraph about uniform houses and checker-cut lawns. you already know what a suburb looks like. if i say 70s style kitchen, you don’t need me to tell you the oven is burnt orange. you either made that leap yourself, or it doesn’t matter enough to know. if i say my characters are having a conversation in a diner, you can already see the vinyl booths and shit on the walls and tacky laminated menu. if i say my characters have landed on Omicron Persei 8, i might need to roll up my sleeves and tell you what that place is like.

the thing is, even if i didn’t, you’d still think up something.

the only reason i would describe something is if it’s particularly special to my narrator, insofar that she would go against her god-given right to be a total dumbass in order to Notice Something. does that make the story more difficult to read? no, it just means the reader either makes their own image, or uses no image at all. because that’s what description does: it specifies. absent of specifics, the human mind supplies.

#writing advice #description #imagery #Anonymous

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adambstingus · 6 years ago

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‘Essentially, the monarchy is corrupt’ – will republicanism survive Harry and Meghan?

The campaign group Republic is committed to bringing down the House of Windsor, despite a wedding that may deepen the publics emotional bond with the royals. Is it right to argue that this soap opera is less popular than people think?

On a scorchingly hot Saturday lunchtime in Leeds, the varied strands of the British left have gathered outside the city’s art gallery for their annual May Day parade. They are all here: the Labour party, the Communist party, the Socialist party, a smattering of trade unions, the Alliance for Workers’ Liberty and a handful of vegans chalking slogans on the paving stones. Meanwhile, under a green gazebo adorned with the tagline “End the Reign”, activists from a radical organisation that resists any left/right stereotyping are setting up their stall and hoping for a decent couple of hours’ business.

On a trestle table, they have arranged a handful of laminated blowups of newspaper articles, mostly from the Guardian, about Prince Harry being interviewed by police about the killing of rare birds, the Queen’s £82m income and the “black spider letters” – named after Prince Charles’s eccentric handwriting – that revealed the future king’s efforts to influence some of the policies of the last Labour government. The basic point all this bumf is intended to illustrate is presented in a four-page A5 leaflet. “Monarchy must go,” it says, explaining why having a hereditary head of state “goes against every democratic principle”, as well as claiming that looking after the royals costs the public purse £334m a year.

The Yorkshire branch of Republic – the pressure group dedicated to “campaigning for a democratic alternative to the monarchy” – has been in existence since 2012. Its prime movers reckon they have a database of “a few hundred” supporters across the region, but the group’s once-a-month campaigning work tends to be carried out by a handful of committed activists. Today, there are four: Shaun Iggleden, 52; Nigel Catling, 59; Ian Cox, 64; and 41-year-old Mark Baxter.

Nigel Catling from Republic campaigning at the May Day rally in Leeds. Photograph: Christopher Thomond for the Guardian

The fact that they are all older white men perhaps illustrates the parts of the population their campaigning has yet to reach, but they are far from being the cranks and anoraks some people would have you believe. Their arguments against the monarchy are calm, lucid and eloquent; they all have a clear sense of how difficult this enduring, often bizarre, institution is to campaign against and how long it may take even to start to dislodge it.

The arduous nature of anti-monarchy activism is quickly proved by the 10 minutes I spend talking to Tracy, Helen and Nigel, who play in the brass band that is about to lead the May Day crowd on a five-minute lap of the surrounding area. Do they, I wonder, know what Republic is all about?

“Disestablishing the monarchy,” says Nigel, without missing a beat. “I think that was a better argument before Donald Trump got elected. That puts me off.”

“I’d keep it like it is,” says Tracy, who plays the tenor horn. “I like it. I think it’s brill: all the parades and the pomp and ceremony. And I think the Queen’s amazing.” She will be watching Prince Harry marry Meghan Markle next week. “It’s going to be great.”

What do they think about how much the monarchy costs?

“They bring so much money in,” she says. “And everything costs a lot. The government costs a lot.”

Do they worry at all about the prospect of King Charles III?

“I really think it should be William next,” says Helen, who plays the cornet. “But you don’t get to change those things.”

Tracy adds: “I don’t think Charles will be able to do what he wants, though. They get told what to do, don’t they?”

‘Will I be watching the wedding? Will I buggery’: Simon Till offers his thoughts on the royal family. Photograph: Christopher Thomond for the Guardian

Over the next two hours, passersby highlight most shades of opinion. Simon Till, a 61-year-old punk rocker whose leather jacket features the logo of those infamous seditionaries the Sex Pistols, takes a leaflet and gets straight to the point: “I’m not a monarchist. I’m not for the rich. Will I be watching the wedding? Will I buggery.”

A handful of twentysomethings cross the square, look askance at the Republic stall and greet my questions about the monarchy with a baffled surprise that soon tilts into claims that we’d be better off keeping the royals, if only for the amount of tourist money they bring in. This is a point that, needless to say, Republic fiercely contests – to quote from their campaign material: “Research shows that tourists come here for our world-class museums, beautiful scenery, fantastic shopping and captivating history – not because they might catch a glimpse of Prince Andrew.”

A woman here with the Labour party tells me that the royals “represent that massive gap between the rich and the poor”, whereas Sam, a history of architecture student, says that the monarchy “embodies the constitution”, and “Britain has never had a Hitler because the Queen wouldn’t allow it”.

Back at the Republic stall, even as the sun beats down and a sudden gust of wind threatens to blow the gazebo over a wall, the people in charge maintain a calm, steely demeanour. “I don’t know whether this is a good example, but with the suffragettes – how long did it take for women to get the vote?” asks Catling, a civil servant. “That took decades. There were women who started it who didn’t see the end of it. We’ve got to start from somewhere, and that’s what we’re trying to do – plant seeds in people’s minds.”

Do they worry that the arrival of Markle has made campaigning even more trying? They must know the arguments: that a person of colour joining the House of Windsor is supposedly a sign of modernisation, consigning to memory the facets of the institution that have been among the most problematic (such as, say, Prince Philip’s racist “quips” or his son’s recent comment that someone with brown skin didn’t look like they were from Manchester).

“Whether Harry marries Meghan Markle or not, it doesn’t alter the political nature of how the country is run,” says Iggleden, who works as a lorry driver. “That’s ultimately what we’re campaigning against. These are side issues. I’m not bothered who Harry does or doesn’t marry. It doesn’t concern me.”

Ian Cox campaigning in Leeds. Photograph: Christopher Thomond for the Guardian

It may not, but such window dressing is surely a big part of how the monarchy endures, via its emotional bond with people. In that sense, the cold realities Republic talks about – the cost, secrecy and hidden power – may not count for much at all.

“That’s something we have discussed,” he says. “How do you argue against emotion with logic? You often hear emotional responses: ‘I love the Queen.’ And you can’t argue with that. You say: ‘Yeah, but it’s undemocratic.’ And you’ll get: ‘Yeah, but I like the Queen.’”

For the past quarter-century or so, opinion polls have tended to put support for the monarchy at more than 70%, while just under one in five of us have seemed to favour a republic. The royal wobble after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales seemed temporarily to affect support for the institution, there was a big hiccup at the time of Prince Charles’s marriage to Camilla Parker Bowles – and the PR problems the next king will face are highlighted by an August 2017 poll suggesting that, if given the choice between Charles becoming king or the role passing straight to his eldest son, only 22% would favour the former, whereas William would be backed by 51%. Republicans, of course, point out that such questions only serve to highlight the monarchy’s absurdity – Charles will become king no matter what anyone thinks.

Support for the monarchy is noticeably lower among younger people: in 2016, it was reported that 84% of those over the age of 55 wanted to keep it, compared with 66% of 18-34s. The royal soap opera, though, may not be quite as popular as some people think: when Harry’s engagement was announced, 52% of respondents to a poll by YouGov said they were “indifferent”. But, overall, the royals seem to have precious little to worry about: at the last count, Ipsos Mori reckoned that 76% of people in the UK want the monarchy to continue, against only 17% who would like to see the back of it.

What is perhaps remarkable is the disappearance of republicanism from the culture. In past decades, anti-royalism was embodied by the aforementioned Sex Pistols and their Jubilee-year masterpiece God Save the Queen and the Smiths’ 1986 album The Queen Is Dead, supported by the quotes Morrissey used to utter before he became what the modern vernacular calls “problematic”. (“I despise royalty. I always have done. It’s fairy-story nonsense.”) It’s perhaps an arbitrary point of comparison, but where pop-cultural attitudes had arrived 25 years later was probably symbolised by the occasion in 2013 when Prince Harry was invited backstage by those down-home scions of the establishment Mumford and Sons. According to the Daily Mail: “He absolutely bear-hugged Marcus [Mumford] and apologised for missing their set. Marcus told him not to worry and to help himself to the beer.”

Such are the raging seas of absurdity in which Republic tries to stay afloat. For the moment, the Yorkshire branch remains its only active regional offshoot and the vast majority of its work is done from its office – or, rather, three-person workstation – near King’s Cross station, in London. Thanks to an annual income of about £140,000 – which comes from a membership base of 4,000 people, topped up with a few occasional donations of between £5,000 and £15,000, Republic has two full-time staff: its 27-year-old campaigns officer, Michael Moore, and Graham Smith, 44. The latter has been Republic’s chief executive and strategic brain since 2005, when he returned from seven years working as an IT specialist in Australia. Smith says he experienced “this huge sort of reverse culture shock” related to how much the monarchy was covered in the media and was reminded of the fact that “I’ve felt strongly about all this for as long as I can remember”.

I talk to Smith in a branch of Costa Coffee near his office, where he explains how he changed Republic from being a tiny organisation that had been set up in 1983 to something with a decent membership and a sense of purpose. “We spent quite a bit of time looking at a longer-term strategy,” he says. “We tried to imagine, as an exercise, all the MPs filing through the division lobbies and giving us a referendum on getting rid of the monarchy. We tried to imagine what kind of country would witness that happen.”

This remains the vision that most of Republic’s work is built around. As a way of steadily advancing its cause, Smith and his colleagues regularly make Freedom of Information requests, commission research, and publicise overlooked information about how the monarchy works – such as the fact that Prince Charles’s private organisation, the Duchy of Cornwall, is exempt from corporation and capital gains tax, or that the 18 royals officially classed as “working” each cost the taxpayer an average of £19m a year.

“We don’t say that the fact that the monarchy is expensive is a reason to get rid of it,” Smith cautions. “It’s not. The fact that it’s expensive is a symptom of the fact that it’s unaccountable and secretive. It’s really a way of pointing to the institution and saying: ‘Essentially, the monarchy is corrupt.’ I don’t think it’s going too far to say that. If corruption is the abuse of public office for personal gain, that is what the monarchy does. And it’s routine; it’s built into the system.”

Republic would like an elected head of state similar to the one who serves the Republic of Ireland – where the role is largely ceremonial and apolitical, but the president can speak up at times of national crisis or uncertainty.

“One example would be the two weeks after the Brexit referendum, when we were essentially devoid of political leadership,” says Smith. “We had just taken this huge, very scary decision and there were all these reports about racist attacks … it felt like a very febrile atmosphere and there was no one to rise above all that, calm nerves and show any leadership. It was a classic example of an occasion when a head of state might say: ‘This is something we’re going through and we’ll sort it out – we’re going to be OK.’”

He says he takes heart from the fact that a republican is now leader of the Labour party, and from the other anti-monarchy organisations across Europe that will be coming to London on the day of the royal wedding for this year’s convention of the Alliance of European Republican Movements (Sweden, apparently, has the strongest; in Spain, “the polling is good, but the movement is splintered”). The end of the monarchy, he says, “could happen in my lifetime – it depends how long my lifetime is”.

His main source of optimism is the prospect of King Charles III. “I think there’s a very real risk of a constitutional crisis. It’s not difficult to imagine that, after he becomes king, the government could change a policy and the new policy could be in line with what we know Charles thinks. The question will then be asked: ‘Have you done that because you think it’s the right policy or because Charles has been pressing you to change that?’”

But what if the prospect of William taking over works as a convenient distraction?

“Charles could easily be king for 20 years. That’s quite a long time to wait. By that time, William will be well into his 50s, if not his 60s. And I think all this stuff about how popular some of them are … I think it’s overblown. I don’t think people care that much. William has lost that youthful Diana look, and he’s a fairly dull, uninspiring individual. There’s time for the gloss to wear off. You can find headlines from the 1970s that say: ‘Prince Charles is the young prince who’s going to save the monarchy.’ All this stuff gets said over and over again.”

Back in Leeds, as Republic’s activist quartet start to pack up the green gazebo, they explain their immediate plans. On the day of the royal wedding, they will be in Parliament Street in York. “I think we’re providing a public service, in some respects,” says Nigel Catling. “There are a lot of people out there who are probably Republicans, but who don’t know. We’ll be there, saying: ‘If you don’t agree with an unelected head of state, you’ll be able to talk to people on the same wavelength.’ It’s a bit of therapy, really.”

A few minutes later, a young man with a pierced nose appears at the stall and gets into a polite argument with Iggleden. “We’ve had them for ever, haven’t we? It’s tradition,” he says. “I really like the royal family.”

Iggleden mentions the question of the monarchy’s cost. “I’m not bothered,” comes the reply. “I’d be happy to give more money to support it. It’s a good thing.”

It turns out that, with his dad and two cousins, 17-year-old Thomas has train tickets to Windsor booked for 19 May. “I’m going to see the procession. I just want to see them. Harry and Meghan. In the flesh.”

The exchange lasts barely a minute, but it is enough to prove beyond doubt that between monarchists and republicans lies a philosophical chasm that makes the leave/remain divide look like a mere tiff. Iggleden exhales and gets back to packing up, but there is one more thing. “I’ll take a leaflet,” says Thomas. “Just to read, you know?”

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/essentially-the-monarchy-is-corrupt-will-republicanism-survive-harry-and-meghan/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/184212461937

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askmicrowaveayem · 8 years ago

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MAYEM: The Sinner In Me Pt. 1

[Previous]

[Archive] [Cast]

“Yeah I think that would be good. He might not do well moved anyway. It’s big enough for the few that’ll show up.” He said, then went back to thinking. A slightly pained look came across his face.

“It would be nice to invite the Twitchy I knew. He would have loved it.”

…

“Maybe I’ll take his world a slice of cake or something.”

Kid hesitated.

Nodded.

He hadn’t liked the Twitchy they’d met so far, but… he knew Goop had made a friend in one of them.

“...Real cake, though,” he said. “...maybe some for the kids, too. You don’t have to go for that, though.”

Goop nodded. “... I think I would like to go. Just to see them. Know how they’re doing.”

He took a breath he didn’t need and looked at Kid. “Anyone else?”

Kid hesitated.

“...maybe little you…?”

He blinked, surprised.

“Little me?” Goop asked, unsure which ‘little him’ Kid was referring to.

Kid shifted again slightly.

“...the one from the library. He’s staying with Toriel. ...it might’ve been years, at this point, I guess…”

“Oh! .. Oh. Right, that one.”

He had to think about it for a moment, but then smiled. “Yeah, sure. If you want to.”

Kid relaxed a little more. Smiled a bit. “Thanks. ...anyone else for you?”

He thought about it, but eventually shook his head. “No one directly coming to mind, no.”

Kid nodded. “Okay.”

He looked down again.

...sighed a little.

“...you really okay with this?”

“With the wedding?” Goop asked, “Why wouldn’t I be?” He laughed a little.

“I just…” he took another breath in through his ‘nasal cavity’ and breathed out again. “...I know you haven’t been very happy with me, lately…”

Goop’s expression fell and he stared at Kid, thinking.

“... Kid. I don’t hate you for yelling at me, if that’s what you think. You have every right to be upset at me for what I did.”

“But I shouldn’t have scared you!” Kid said, the words finally bursting out of him. “That’s the last thing I wanted to do!”

“How would you have known I would have gotten scared?” Goop asked, inadvertently admitting that it had scared him, that he was probably still scared.

“You’re my friend,” Kid said, voice rising somewhat. “I shouldn’t have scared you at all! Obviously I did something that meant you felt like you couldn’t trust me enough for that!”

He looked away from him then, his shoulders slumping a little. “Of course you did. I trust you more than anyone else.”

More than his kids when it came to secrets, in a way. Not because he didn’t trust them, but… he didn’t want to hurt them.

“I’ve done things to scare you too. I know I have.”

The time in hellworld.

Torturing and maiming the other monsters without a care.

“But it’s never lasted like this before…” Kid said, voice faltered a little, getting strained. “And I was never scared you’d turn on me.”

Goop stared at his lap.

“... Maybe I’m just a big baby?” He looked at Kid, trying to give a self-deprecating smile.

“Goop…” Kid’s face fell completely, staring back at him. “...it’s still scaring you. Isn’t it.”

His smile fell and he looked away again.

“... I’m scared you’ll realize how bad I really am, and how hard I am to get along with. Just like everyone else.”

Neither of them had friends outside of each other. They were considered difficult or strange or antisocial.

And they were.

“I’m scared I’ll do something and you’ll disagree with so much that you’ll just… go back to your kids. Or your void.”

Scared that he would be alone again.

How bad he really….?

Kid’s face hardened again.

“...I can’t judge. Okay?” he said. “I can’t judge, and you’re not as bad as you think, obviously, since you can still regret things and you have a line, and Goop, I don’t want to be alone, either.”

He opened his mouth to argue that Kid still had his boys, but… he knew that neither of them could stand stagnation. That their worlds weren’t really theirs anymore. So he shoved that thought away.

“Why can’t you judge, Kid?” Goop asked, looking at him.

“Because I’m a terrible person, too, and I just hide it!” he said. “Constantly! Or when you see it, you tell me it’s not my fault, or it was my situation, or something like that. Why doesn’t that apply to you, too, then?”

“Because you were never terrible to your kids!” Goop said, his voice finally rising slightly.

“You don’t know shit about me and my kids!”

Kid flinched from himself.

He grew quieter.

“...just because I didn’t experiment didn’t mean I was good. And… and you changed for them, Goop… I don’t fucking understand how you can’t see what that means.”

Goop flinched too.

Grew quiet again.

“... Changing for them didn’t add up to much when I ended up possessing Sans. I changed for them and then turned around and did the worst thing yet.”

“But he forgave you,” Kid said, voice soft again. He had trouble looking Goop in the ‘eye’. “...and like you said, the situation was desperate… and you regret it… is regretting hurting someone really something a bad person would do…?”

…

Goop looked at the floor of the machine, but didn’t make a comment to Kid’s words. He didn’t know how to argue against it.

“... Kid,” He began, “... after telling you what I did… what do you think about me?” He asked, looking at his double. “Really.”

Kid looked up at him, ending up staring somewhere around Goop’s hands.

He took a moment to think. Trying to get things right this time. Trying to not say it the wrong way. Trying to figure out, really, what he meant.

Goop deserved honesty from him.

That was all he’d asked.

“...I think you’ve been through a lot. And… I was worried, when you told me about what happened,” he said finally. “I was worried about you and Sans’ relationship. Because I know how much it means to you. And how much you care about not hurting him. And now I just feel awful because instead of doing anything good, I just shouted at you in panic and ended up making us both stressed, when you were already upset because I’d lied to you before, and…”

He sighed again. Rubbed his face.

“...I don’t think you’re a bad person. I just feel like shit for making you think you might be.”

He listened to his friend, staying quiet until he was sure Kid was finished.

“... It’s okay. Getting mad about it just shows you care.”

Goop took a breath. “My relationship with Sans isn’t the best. I didn’t bring it up again like you asked me to last time we took a break. I was too scared to. I’m still scared.”

…

“Maybe I’ll feel better when I finally get the courage to talk to him about it. If he’ll let me.”

Kid nodded slowly. Kept looking down.

“...I’m sorry if you feel like I pressured you into having to do it.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s…” Goop took a breath. “It’s something I’ve been doing since I got out of the void, honestly. Off and on. Just not the way you suggested.”

“Sans has just never wanted to talk about it.”

Kid lowered his head again. “...I’m sorry. If… if there’s some way I can help..?”

“You’ve already helped as much as I think you can.” Goop said, smiling at Kid again. Even if they had argued after he had told him about it, Kid had given him a lot of good advice about talking it over with Sans.

He breathed a sigh, feeling a little better than before.

Kid let out a slow breath too, relaxing down a little.

“...okay.”

He tried to smile again, faintly, even though he looked very tired as he did. He was feeling a bit better, too.

“...You know I won’t just disappear. Right?”

Had Kid asked that before, Goop wouldn’t have been able to answer.

Now he… he felt a little more confident that he could.

“... The thought still scares me, but… yeah.” He said, smiling a little still. “Yeah. I know.”

Kid looked up at him a little more. Met his eyes a little easier. Faint smile back.

“Yeah. And if I do look like I’m vanishing, I’m… probably just going somewhere I think is safe, okay? To just.. Recover a little while. I’m not going anywhere anything soon, though, okay? I’ve got a handle on it.”

Goop nodded a little. “Yeah.”

…

“If you can, can you just… say you’ve ‘gotta go’ or something before you do that?” He laughed nervously. “It’s… scary to watch you fade from existence and not know where the fuck you’re going.”

He understood Kid not wanting to tell him where he was going, but… fuck. That shit was scary to watch all the same. As long as he knew Kid was thinking when he did it, everything would be better.

Kid blinked a little, nodding quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll… yeah. Sorry.”

He wasn’t sure what state he’d be in when he did it again--if he did it again--but he’d try to give Goop a lot more warning, first.

“Thanks.”

After a while he took a deep breath again.

“... Is there anything else you’ve been wanting to ask me?”

Kid looked down again, frowning slightly, thinking hard.

“...I know we already said we’d just have the cake laminated, but what sort of flavor are we telling the Papses we want?”

Goop smirked. “What’s less likely to burn or undercook?”

Kid considered that for a long while, finger on his chin. “Chocolate burns easily. Vanilla probably won’t make it worse if it’s undercooked? Not that either of us will be able to tell the difference.”

“Well I certainly won’t.” He laughed, “But what about you? Does something burnt or undercooked taste less horrible?”

“I mean, I haven’t had that much experience,” Kid admitted. “I tasted food a couple times and then I cut my losses and run.”

Huh. Maybe next, Alphys could make a sensory dampener.

Goop stared at Kid for a minute before looking very, very sorry and reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m already feeling secondary pain for when you have to taste their cake.”

“It’s okay,” Kid said sagely, “I’ll do that soul-sharing thing with you again and let you experience the pain with me.”

His expression changed to dread.

“Please don’t.”

Kid grinned at him.

Grinned.

Grinned wider.

“Only because it’s our wedding.”

He’d consider it a present.

Goop whispered ‘thank you’ almost so quietly it could barely be heard.

Kid snorted.

“You’re welcome. Dear.”

He smiled, the motion a lot less forced and more genuine now.

“... You wanna take a nap?”

Kid smiled back, relaxed and small. “Yeah. You?”

He hesitated, but only for a moment.

Didn’t lie like he might have what was now long ago.

“Yeah. I could use some rest. You first though.”

Kid was a little more relaxed about accepting first sleep, since he did sleep quicker than Goop did.

So he nodded, melting himself down and taking some time to rest.

..it’d been a busy day.

Goop sat beside his friend, keeping watch as the other slept just as he always did. The Gaster of this world did knock on the door again to make sure everything was alright after some time had passed, especially after hearing noises pick up a little and then go silent.

He assured her that everything was fine and they were just taking the time to rest.

She left them then, her and her employees calling it a day and Gaster taking her two little ones back home with her.

After several hour’s rest, Kid got up and swapped places with Goop, watching over his friend as Goop tried to sleep, playing a few games on the tablet to keep himself entertained.

...this world was one of the more standard onces that he’d gotten used to on the trip with Sans and Papyrus. Just, without two seriously upset young skeletons mourning their parent.

He was starting to really appreciate these sort of calm, peaceful worlds, now that the stress of their fight was finally loosened in his chest.

Goop collapsed beside his friend, taking the moment to completely lose his form and not sleep the whole time, but just let himself and relax.

He wasn’t sure how much he liked these worlds.

There wasn’t much to do.

He didn’t like just… sitting around. Thinking.

He considered bringing some projects with him next time.

All the same he let himself relax and feel the tension melt away a little more, feeling a bit better. He tried not to think of the things they had come from, the fight they had… their ultimate task.

The scanner ticking down.

…

This world’s Gaster would come again, knock on the door and make sure everything was okay, perhaps ask a few questions about the machine and get nowhere.

A shame, really, she thought.

But she understood, in a way, why they would withhold information.

Kid really was very sorry about not telling her more, but… aside from being tired, there really was very little he thought for certain they could say, at this point. He did mention, briefly, that they suspected soul physics were somewhat different between worlds, but hadn’t been able to prove it and it was still an unsuccessful venture--but he tried to make it a warning, again. An explanation.

...they’d interrupted her world and piqued her curiosity and he was sorry for it, and considered inviting her to the wedding, simply to make up for it, and also to bother Goop.

...it was strange, how quickly he remembered how to poke fun at Goop, now that he wasn’t terrified of it anymore.

It would be good to go home.

When the scanner ticked down and the next world was revealed they said their goodbyes to this world’s Gaster and started to head forward.

Goop paused at the controls.

“... I think I should head home and try to talk to Sans.”

It would be better to do it before he could overthink it again. Before he could put it off.

Kid hesitated too.

But he did nod.

“Yeah. Okay. If you're feeling up to it, definitely.”

Putting it off would only make them worry longer, right?

Goop took a heavy breath and then jumped back to his son’s homeworld. When he moved for the door of the machine and opened it up to look out, everything was just as it had been when they left.

He hesitated again, looking back at Kid.

“... I don’t really want to jump into it, so I might just… hang out for awhile before I see an opportunity. If you want we can drop you off with your kids during all this.”

“...if you don't want me there while you do it, I can be with my kids,” Kid said, “I'll be there if you want me, though.”

He put a hand on Goop’s shoulder.

“I-” Goop began, then looked at the hand on his shoulder.

“... Yeah. It’d be nice to have you around.”

He hesitated again before looking down at him. “Ready?”

Kid nodded, face serious.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

Goop reached and took Kid’s arm, just for some extra security while teleporting them to his kid’s house. Once there he reached into his chest and pulled out the keys to unlock it and poked his head inside.

“Boys…?”

The pair of skeletons looked up from the couch, both grinning.

“DAD! YOU’RE BACK SOON!” Papyrus said, standing up to give his father a hug. Sans followed suit, although at a much slower pace.

Kid took a few steps back, smiling faintly and watching the reunion.

He didn’t say anything, just letting the family have their moment.

They more than deserved it.

Goop hugged his kids and asked how they had been.

Everything had been fine, of course.

Papyrus then smiled at Kid and reached in to hug him too. “IT’S GOOD TO SEE YOU TOO. HOW HAS EVERYTHING BEEN?”

Kid was family too, after all.

Kid blinked a little, but readily accepted the hug, giving Papyrus a gentle squeeze. “Ah--things have been pretty good, honestly. Mostly a lot of sitting.”

They got in trouble when they sat still, but it was more reassuring to say that.

“We met someone taller than your dad, too.”

Sans didn’t go in for the hug, but he did smile warmly at Kid all the same. Things weren’t as tense between them as they had once been, and he did appreciate everything that the other did for their dad.

Papyrus blinked and Kid, then looked at Goop. He stood a few inches taller than his father.

“... IS THAT A FEAT? I’M TALLER THAN DAD.”

“This was the first Gaster that’s been taller than me.” Goop explained.

“OH!” Papyrus looked back at Kid, “HOW TALL WAS HE?”

Kid managed a smile back. He was still guilty for what he’d done, putting Sans and Papyrus in harm’s way, and always a little nervous Sans would go back and remember that, but--

Well. Maybe that’s what Goop had been feeling all this time.

...he smiled a little more gently, trying to just… make himself believe a little bit more, and trust Sans, that it wouldn’t be like that again.

Then, he turned back to Papyrus.

“You know how tall Asgore is?” he asked, waiting for Papyrus to give confirmation. “At least three times as tall as that.”

The kid’s eyes widened.

“WOWIE!”

“damn. what was he like?”

Kid had to think about that.

“Uh… Intimidating. And kinda creepy. But nice enough.”

Papyrus made a curious sound while Sans turned and looked up at Goop. “creepier than you?”

“No.” Goop smiled, reaching and grabbing the hood of his son’s hoodie and yanking it over his eyes. “I still win the creepy trophy.”

Kid snorted, but didn’t argue.

He kinda made a face like he disagreed though.

Goop was a dope, not creepy.

(he had happily blocked their first fight’s outcome from his mind.)

Papyrus just looked at Kid like he agreed. Despite having seen his father be creepy once on accident, he didn’t believe he was the creepiest at all. So while Sans was shoving Goop’s arm away and pushing his hood back, he just smiled.

“I’LL MAKE YOU SOME COFFEE. HOW LONG DO YOU THINK YOU’LL BE STAYING?”

“Uhh…” Goop glanced at Kid, “Probably only a day. Just a small pitstop.”

Kid looked a little hesitant, but nodded. “Yeah, probably.”

It might change, though.

He followed the three inside all the same, taking a breath.

He hoped it didn’t take that long. Goop didn’t want to spend weeks here stressing out about it. But this… wasn’t something you could force.

So they stepped inside and Papyrus made his way to the kitchen to make his dad some coffee, the rest of them settling on the couch to mindlessly watch TV for awhile. The conversation was light, mostly about what his boys had been up to, but occasionally about the worlds they had been to.

The recent ones had been nice enough to talk about. The talk show Gaster, the emperor, the mom Gaster. The boys liked hearing about it.

Then Papyrus went off to start dinner for himself and Sans, leaving the three of them alone in the living room. As much as he didn’t mind Kid being there, he knew Sans would. So during a lull in the conversation Goop shot Kid a look.

Kid got up after the look, giving Goop an encouraging smile and shuffled after Papyrus, into the kitchen.

He’d keep Pap away if necessary.

Papyrus smiled at Kid, oblivious to the talk going on in the other room. “SO HAVE YOU TRIED EATING ANYTHING NEW LATELY?”

Maybe Kid would eventually find something he could stand!

Once they were alone Goop waited a few moments before glancing at Sans, his voice quiet.

“... Sans, can we talk about--”

Before he even finished Sans sighed, “dad. if it’s what i think it is, there’s really nothing to talk about. i’ve already told you it’s fine.”

Kid shook his head, smiling a little. “No, uh, I’ve been playing it pretty safe in other worlds, just in case. I don’t really like the feeling, still. How’s cooking been going, though?”

“GOOD!” Papyrus grinned, “ALTHOUGH SANS ISN’T A VERY GOOD TASTE TESTER. HE’LL EAT ANYTHING I MAKE AND SAY IT’S GREAT. I MEAN, IT IS, BUT THAT’S BESIDES THE POINT.”

Goop’s mouth opened and he suddenly drew a blank. The advice Kid had given him just… vanished.

He didn’t know what to say. Sans still didn’t want to talk about it, or felt there was nothing to talk about. So, like every time before, he just nodded.

“... Alright.” Goop said, trying not to sound as crushed as he felt.

…

“I’m gonna go get more coffee.” He grabbed for his cup and stood to enter the kitchen.

“Making anything new--?” Kid cut himself off, turning to look as soon as Goop entered the room.

He fell silent. Looked for Goop’s eyes.

Papyrus didn’t seem to notice Kid cut himself off. “YES! I TRIED MY HAND AT HOMEMADE SOUP. IT TURNED OUT QUITE NICE, I THINK.”

Goop looked at Kid and did a small shake of his head before getting himself more coffee.

Not looking at Papyrus, Kid said, “You know? You should tell Goop about your soup in great detail. I’ll be back very soon to hear about it too, but just give me a moment.”

He ducked back into the living room, approaching Sans silently.

“OKAY.” Papyrus said, smiling at his father before erupting into detail about just how he had made it.

In the living room Sans glanced at Kid from around his soda.

Kid had experienced Sans upset with him before. Truly upset with him. Nothing was more real than the scorn Sans sent someone after they put his brother at risk.

Kid had experienced that. It hadn’t been pleasant. But he could bear it.

Goop couldn’t bear this, though.

“Sans,” he said, “please talk to Goop.”

Sans looked mildly surprised, the can lowering from his teeth. It only took him a second to put two and two together.

“... so he told ya.” He took a deep, deep breath. He shouldn’t have been too surprised. Kid and his dad were very close. Engaged, even.

… He put that humorous little tidbit into the back of his mind again. It looked like it was time to be serious. He didn’t like it when he had to be serious.

“i’ve told ‘im before there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Even if what happened really doesn’t upset you at all, it still upsets him,” Kid said, expression cool, trying to keep himself reigned in. “It’s his worst nightmare to ever hurt you again. And you’re the only one he can talk to about it.”

Sans frowned and was silent for a painfully long time, making Kid stand there in silence beside him as he mulled it over.

“... of course it still upsets me. i still have nightmares about it.” He looked at Kid, “telling him that is just going to upset him more.”

“It’s not going to get any better if you leave things as they are, though,” He said, face softening, looking a little more sympathetic again. “...it’s not getting any better for you either, is it?”

Sans shook his head slowly and reached up to rub at the scar over his eye. “No.”

He was silent again for a minute or two.

“... i just don’t want to make things worse.”

“...” Kid sighed slowly. “...my mother used to tell me that I’d never get better if the people who were trying to take care of me didn’t know what was wrong.”

Sans looked up at him, holding his gaze until finally looking away.

After closing his eyes and taking a breath he set his soda down and stood up to walk into the kitchen.

“hey dad? can we talk out back for a little?”

#mayem #RP log #undertale #goop #kid #momster #sans #papyrus #the sinner in me

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