#might even post a little blurb that i found in the drafts !

[tetzoro]

good morning friendz + happy friday from me and the kitties ! they wanted me to tell you they’re very proud of you for making it through another week! i hope that today treats you kindly, remember to stay hydrated + unclench your jaws ! (๑´>᎑<)~* ෆ

[moneymasnn]

Who Had A Cookie?

Blurb: One where you're the f1 drivers manager, and when all the boys seem to have eaten a 'magic cookie' you're the one who needs to clean up all the mess.

Notes: I was inspired by the one greys anatomy episode lol but I thought this was a funny concept. This is also my first fic I’ve posted in 6 months!! I found it in my drafts and decided to post! Enjoy xx

Warnings: well mention of drugs, might be some swearing but other than that nothing lol Platonic!reader x f1 drivers and a little bit of reader x Charles leclerc

Who had the cookies?

You loved charity events, especially f1 charity events. You loved your job for giving you the opportunity to attend these events. A very easy night if you say so yourself, babysitting twenty grown men, what could go wrong? Especially when cameras and fancy investors are around they behave all on their own, leaving you to relax, and indulge in some free champagne.

“Y/n.” your name was mumbled behind you, startling you as your attention now shifted to your assistant.

You knew something was wrong by the way she was twiddling her fingers, her black nails contrast to her white dress as she brings her left index nail up to hold between her teeth.

“Jenny? Spit it out.” You stood up straight, urging your assistant.

She stands up straight as if she's trying to muster up some sort of courage, she looks around before she leans in closer to you, you can almost hear her shaky breaths.

“There were some cookies… and erm, well they were placed in the drivers dressing room, and I don’t know how they got there. I mean, I certainly didn’t sign them off so this is no way my fault and-“ she was talking a mile a minute you couldn't even understand her.

“Jenny!” You took her hands that were waving in the air and bought them back down to her chest.

“Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong?” you said sternly. 

“Don’t fire me… please.” You could see the tears brimming in her eyes, but the anticipation was killing you, you windened your eyes and stayed quiet so she could carry on.

“There were compromised cookies gifted to the driver's dressing room.”

“And?”

“And- and now the tin is empty, as in they've all gone. The cookies have been eaten y/n. Cannabis cookies.”

Your hands ran to your mouth as your eyes immediately darted around the room to look for anything out of the ordinary.

The room was spinning as you whipped your neck around in different directions.

George russel was the first to catch your attention.

He looked fine…he was leaning against a wall, chewing…

He was chewing on a cookie.

“Oh my god.” You started to push through the crowd of people in the hall.

“George! Drop that cookie!”

George’s eyes lit up when he saw you, one of his many managers. You could see the cookie crumbs falling from his mouth as he smiled, chocolate smudged around the corners of his lips.

“Y/n, you have to try these cookies!” He desperately said, holding up his half eaten cookie. But much to his dismay you slapped it out of his hand, letting it fall right to the floor. George’s lips downturned and your name fell in a groan from his lips as he looked at his cookie on the floor.

“Spit.” You held your hand out, as gross as it was.

“I will not!” He sassed you as you pointed your finger at him, eyebrows furring trying to be as intimidating to the six foot man as possible. George sent you one of his signature smirks as he swallowed the mouthful of cookie in one large gulp.

“George, those are not regular cookies-“

“Tell me about it! Send from the heavens.” he smiled, almost robotic, like the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Your own eyes widened as you realised one of your clients was stoned.

Completely and utterly stoned.

You were fucked.

You could feel Jenny breathe behind you, she let out a small giggle at George's actions causing you to turn and scowl at her.

“Grab him and take him to the dressing room, and don’t let him talk to anyone. lock him in there and then come back to help me gather anyone else who had had a cookie.”

She nodded as she grabbed George’s arm, telling him they were going on an adventure, George happily complying.

You sighed as you looked for anyone else.

You were at a very high class charity gala in Monaco. This night was about to be ruined and you were about to be fired for letting your drivers get out of control and well, high.

You decided making an announcement on the stage was your best bet, walking through the crowds of people you felt someone grab your arm.

“Y/n!” Lando Norris. 

He giggled as he said your name. Making him repeat himself.

“Y/nnnnnn.” He covered his mouth to stop the giggles. “Sorry, just, why does your name sound so weird?”

You had to try so hard to keep your face straight at the boy's child like giggles.

“Why are you laughing like that?” Carlos walked over, playing his arm over his wobbly ex teammate.

“Carlos!” you and lando both said in unison.

“Your hair is so soft, like fur.” Lando said as his hands made their way into Carlos's long brown locks. Carlos eyes widen as he looks at the boy then back at you, trying to pull Landos hands out of his hair.

“Carlos, did you have a cookie?” You eyed up the Spaniard.

“What cookie?” He frowned at you.

“Ugh, thank god! Landos had a erm.” You leaned into him so no one around would hear, “Some of the drivers have eaten cannabis laced cookies.”

Carlos’ head turned as he looked back at Lando, eyes widening.

“Take him back to the dressing room please, just lock him in there with George, and if you see anyone else take them with you.” 

Carlos just nodded, letting his mate lean on him as he dragged him to the back of the room.

You let out a sigh of relief, that was three out of a possible twenty.

Only seventeen more to find.

You walked up to the stage, grabbing the mic, tapping it slightly.

“Hello, everyone. I hope everyone is having a good night, erm, could all formula one drivers that have eaten a cookie this afternoon please meet back in the dressing room, important meeting. Thank you.” You smiled at the crowd, you could hear the whispers as you stopped off the stage. 

“Y/n?” 

Max. 

“I had a cookie, and I don't feel too good, like - like i'm not here, i've been over there.” He pointed to the corner of the room, “and I thought I was dreaming y/n. I dont know whats happening to me?” He looked panicked as he clutched onto your upper arm.

“You're okay max, you had some magic cookies.”

“Magic cookies?”

“Just come with me okay?”

He nodded his head vigorously as he followed you though the crows, clutched to your hand like a toddler. 

You noticed Daniel on the way, opting to grab him too.

“Danny!”

“Hello.” he had, in a very nonchalant tone, unlike his bubbly self. He was definitely stoned.

“Are you okay?”

“I feel great.” he smiled, but his eyes didn't quite catch up to him.

You grabbed his arm and dragged him along with max.

“Y/n? Where are we going?” Max asked anxiously.

“To sit down.”

You dragged them both into the room, when you got in there you could see George sat curled up on the window seal, lance was sat back against the wall staring at the floor. Seb was giggling at Mick who had all of a sudden become hyper aware of his body, saying he could feel his ‘skin’.

Pierre was touching his face in the mirror while Yuki was at the snack table. 

You let out a relieved sigh as Jenny had managed to capture some of the drivers, a few turning up after hearing your announcement. 

“Okay boys go play.” You pushed Daniel and Max into the room. 

“Dan, dan, danny, daniel.” Pierre called Daniel over to the mirror. “Why don't I look like me?” Pierre asked daniel. 

Pierre gasped and turned to a very relaxed Daniel, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Daniel, do you think I look weird?” Panicked. 

“Coolllll.” Daniel replied as he smiled straight though pierre.

“You're right, I'm too cool to care.” Pierre nodded and turned back to the mirror to straighten out his shirt.

“This room is full of some very… high men.” Seb looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Seb? Please tell me-”

“I didn't. Don't worry. I'm watching my weight.” he winked at you. “I'm happy to look after these guys while you get the others?”

You replied a quick thank you as you quickly shut the door, bolting back into the hall. Then you realised, opening the door back open and peering through, 

Where were Lando and carlos?

You rushed back out, looking down the bottom of the hallway, choosing to search the rest of the building, you came to the fire escape stairs where you found a curled up charles rocking back and forward. 

“Charlie?” you gently called out as you crouched down next to him, placing a hand on his knee.

“Y/n?” He quietly replied. 

“It's me, it's just me. How are you feeling?” you gently asked him.

“I- i don't know, i've never felt like this before.” He said raising his head, his eyes bloodshot and skin pale, he had a cookie.

You smiled at him as you brushed his fallen hair back from his forehead.

“You're going to be alright, come with me okay?”

You pulled him up to his feet where he looked down at you, sniffing before a little smile climbed his face.

“You're so pretty y/n.” You giggled at the boy as you took his hand and made your way down the steps to the drivers room.

“Like a princess.” he added, his hands waving in the air.

“Thank you, charlie.” you giggled.

“Charlie,” he smiled, “have i ever told you how much i love it when you call me that, charlie.” he smiled and repeated the nickname again, leaning his head on your shoulder as you both made your way down the stairs.

Charles lightly sighed as you pushed him into the drivers room, “Where are you going?” Charles whispered, pulling on your arm.

“I'll be back in five minutes okay, Seb will look after you.”

Charles nodded his head to look for seb, you both grimace when you saw mick with his head in the trash can, seb rubbing his back as pierre and yuki giggle at him in the corner. 

You walked back out the room when Jenny was running up to you, “Y/n! Huge problem, Carlos and Lando are on the stage!”

Ou barge past her and walk into the room to see Carlos with a mic in his hand, Lando leaning into him in fits of laughter.

“All I'm saying is, I race really fast cars, like that's super cool, right? There's only twenty of us that do that. So cool, im so cool, im a cool guy.'' Carlos giggled as he spoke about himself on stage.

“You could die? I could die? Imagine that! The world would be so sad, my smooth operator.” Lando giggled at the nickname and then started to sing. 

And before you knew it they were two verses deep into smooth operator, Carlos opting to show off his opera skills at one point. 

You jumped on the stage taking the mic out of Carlos' hands and putting your hand over it so you could whisper shout in his ear, “You said you didn't have any cookies!”

Carlos snickered as he looked at Lando who gasped and held his hand over his mouth.

“You lied to y/n?” Lando giggled. “Oh man you're in so much trouble.” Landos face dropped as he leaned into carlos’ face, “she looks mad, we should probably run.”

Carlos nodded along with the boy when you grabbed both of their arms, “Nope. No more running, you're coming with me.”

Carlos shook his head like a caught child and both men giggled as you pushed them off the stage, apologising to the crowd before handing the mic back to the dj. 

“Y/n!”

You sighed as your name was called for about the fifth time that night, this time though, it was serious.

Zac Brown made his way over to the three of you, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. Lando straightened his posture as Carlos crossed his arms and impersonated Zac, Lando caught onto this and all of a sudden the boys were in crying fits of laughter again. You winced as Landos cackle echoed through the hall, catching the attention of people around.

“What. The. Hell?”

“I can explain.” you winced at the man.

“What is going on here?” He eyed up his driver and ex driver, who he presumed had too much to drink.

“They're high. Someone laced some cookies and I'm so sorry, I have the situation under wraps, they won't be a problem anymore.”

But when Zac started to laugh along you realised maybe it wasn't just some of the drivers who had had some cookies.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” You grabbed Zac as well as Lando and Carlos and dragged them back to the dressing room.

“Y/n, Your back!” Charles made his way over to you, engulfing you into a hug.

“Y/ns back!” Max screamed as he fell off the sofa, plunging his way into your arms along with charles.

“Hey get off her, she's my manager!” Max shoved Charles hand that was loosely placed on your shoulder. 

“She's mine too!”

While the two men started to fight over your attention you scanned the drivers that were in the room. Jenny had managed to catch the majority and even some of the drivers that weren't high had opted to help.

Max shoved Charles in hopes he would let go of you, instead causing you to stumble back into the arms of someone else.

“Okay okay, we get it, she's pretty but you're suffocating her, and she won't be very pretty when she's dead on the floor.” a spanish accent can be heard behind you. 

Fernando unwrapped both men as they both started to profusely apologise about ‘nearly killing you.’

You rubbed your hand over your head after smiling at Fernando in a thank you as he sent Charles and Max to the food table.

“You look stressed.” he said with a smirk as you both watched the men in the room.

“I need a cookie.” you joked, your eyes on mick who was still throwing up.

“I could always make you some.” he shrugged.

You laughed at the man before your eyes widened in realisation, you turned to him, face like thunder, “You!”

He threw his hands up in the air, “In my defence i didn't mean for anyone to eat them. It was a total accident.”

Your mouth agape you turned to look at the Spaniard ready to scream every curse word you know. He sensed your anger, “it was an honest mistake y/n, trust me. You think I would have wasted all of them cookies on these people on purpose.”

Your eyes darted daggers and Fernando understood you were really mad, in an attempt to lighten the mood he pointed at Yuki and Pierre who were having the time of their lives giggling like two school girls in the corner.

“You have to admit, it is kinda funny,” he said.

A smile crept on your face as you giggled, it was kinda funny.

Yours and Fernandos giggling soon stopped when you saw Max and Checo arguing in the corner.

“I think Max is about to punch Checo for taking the last slice of pizza.” you said.

“Shit.”

[paunchsalazar]

hey so I really enjoyed your kyokao longfic and i was wondering what the writing process was like since im planning on writing a fanfic (first time).

did you plan anything with an outline? or did you wing it?

anyways thanks in advance (and btw im doing another reread of your fic, it's so narratively satisfying!!)

omg woah first!!! thank you so much!!! that is seriously the most touching thing to possibly hear T-T

This is going to be such a long-winded answer but I definitely did not wing it!!! apologies for the long post but I love to see behind the curtain and think about process so...

That fic was my first multi-chapter story and waaaay longer than anything else I’ve ever made… so I kinda had no idea where to start. I wanted to make a rough outline to see if it was even feasible - was there a beginning, middle, and end? Even a super hazy one? before jumping in and writing a whole long project… (I had no idea how long it would be, but knew it was definitely longer than a few thousand words.)

it started as a timeline - trying to keep track of all the canon events via bonus chapters and sketches, then working to fill in the gaps with headcanons. Even though Ouran is silly, by the end they’re operating within a normal timeline lol….

After filling out a lot of the timeline with headcanons then organizing them in chronological order.. started to see the plot/opportunities for change - in the characters, their relationships, the state of their lives - especially with school, moving, etc. all of the above

I tried to make myself a guide to keep organized lol (totally unnecessary, but helped me keep track of things!)

the timeline started as bullet points - if there are any settings or occasions that would justify an “episode” - major holidays, group trip, etc. At least with Ouran, I tried to play around with the settings - The host club has unlimited resources which is a rare luxury… but wanted to keep in the realm of what they might do + think about fancy rich people things they hadn’t yet covered “on screen”

From there, it went to sub-bullet points, then trying to nail down each beat I'd want to cover - through narration or dialogue

It's hard to pin it down but sometimes certain moments - a visual, an exchange of dialogue - play out really clearly in my head… so would occasionally find that moment and then reverse engineer what would lead to that, then follow the thread to where it would potentially go…

Usually went in chronological order or at least made a list of beats all the way through, but then would jump back and forth to fix little things or add in details I realized needed to move sooner/be foreshadowed…

Outline/timeline > beats > rough draft > going line by line to edit + then hopping around to fix things accordingly

I had a lot of different docs... just because they get so big

+ I like to put unfinished things in blue (or any color, I like blue because red feels more negative to me lol) and then change them to black when they feel "locked" or at least like they're functioning. It helps me keep track of how much is left to do + makes it easier to find spots that need attention!

+ also like to have a "cutting room" document for everything I cut/don't know where to put/is redundant in case I want to use it for later, or even just to try to see what I was going for!! I've found it to come in handy down the line

Here are some examples of the WIP bullet points/blurbs lol... I also like to make "off-screen" notes to myself just to keep in mind, I did have a friend beta-reading some parts, but kinda do this for myself anyway just to keep it in mind.

From there it was just writing and rewriting... I usually go through a scene from the beginning and read until something trips me up, try to either fix it or make note of what the intention was and then go on to the next beat. I went chapter by chapter, in order, and tried to get each locked before going on to the next one.

Should also note that this fic took me a long time!! And I wasn't working on it with a super set schedule. It was purely for fun, so I just worked on it when I felt like it (and as it grew, I found myself wanting to work on it more and more! so it was exciting more than a chore).

I talked to friends about it, even if just kinda laughing about headcanons or jokes, and had a few people read through the beats and a few scenes to see if it flowed/if the dialogue sounded in character!

+ I did a lot of revisiting the source material or even just watching a clip when I felt like I was losing their voices. Idk if it was that successful... but it helped to keep them in mind!!

Anyway... I can only speak for what works for me! and I think a lot of these habits are coming from my storyboarding workflow.

Writing is so personal and there is bound to be trial and error!! I hope that you have so much fun writing, whatever approach you take!!!!!

Also what thank you so much for reading my fic at all and for your kindness!! If you ever publish your fic, please send me a link!!! even if it is ages from now!!!!!

[blue-aconite]

Can we please have a little background info on let me drown? 💕

Vee, first I'd like to apologise for not answering this sooner. Second, I'm so excited you want to know more about Let Me Drown. I've been wracking my brain for this ask and I've decided to put it underneath a cut. There won't be any significant spoilers, but better safe than sorry!

You can find some background here. Find out more below the cut!

Like I've said before, I actually can't exactly remember how I came up with the idea for LMD. As I mentioned in the post linked above, there was another fic planned called "Mid-Air Collision", which had similar elements that I've adapted into LMD.

In the film, it's very obvious Rooster and Hangman share some kind of history. They don't like each other and there's some kind of slumbering conflict between the two of them. I found that fascinating and while I do love me a good Hangster fic, I knew I wanted to create something else this time around.

I think there was a dream involved where I saw parts of the fic. Call me crazy, I don't know and when I woke up, there was only a vague memory of what had happened. But I couldn't let it go.

I made this, which became my first visual for the fic and after creating this, I made two separate Pinterest boards. One for Bradley and one for Jake.

In MAC, Bob's little sister was named Sasha, which I used in my first draft. But the name never felt right, she didn't feel like a Sasha. So while I recycled parts of the character into LMD, I knew I needed to let her become her own person. There might have been a poll involved in choosing a name, or maybe I asked for opinions in the Discord server, but either way, Thea got stuck on my mind (I was most likely looking at baby name websites).

I wrote this in the Discord, saying to get ready for pain and angst:

Bradley slammed Jake against the wall, knuckles white as he tugged on the shorter man’s shirt. “Shut the fuck up!” He sneered, trying desperately to ignore the way Jake seemed to thrive on his anger. Hangman smirked as if their position didn’t bother him in the slightest. The rest of the squad tried to pry them apart, tried to get Bradley to let go but he held fast. Jake didn’t once try to break free, he just kept a hold on Bradley’s wrists. “Calm down Chicken.” The nickname, that Bradley hated, was the last straw as he pulled back only to raise his fist instead. If he couldn’t get Hangman to stop smirking, he’d punch his face instead. What he didn’t count on was Bob of all people stepping between them and blocking Bradley’s fist.

And another few blurbs, but it all started with the confrontation between Rooster and Hangman at the Hard Deck and Bob picking Jake's side over Bradley's (this event has not occurred in the timeline for the fic yet and what I've shared above has changed a lot).

Bradley's issues came into play quite early and I knew before I even started writing that he and Thea were doomed from the beginning. There was no way for either of them to make it out of the relationship unscathed and I always knew Bradley was going to break her heart.

There was a point where she never found about his infidelity directly from Rooster but rather Athena, but I owed it to both of them that Brad was the one coming clean about his actions. There was even a time where Thea was going to forgive him at first but as Bradley's toxic behaviour unraveled itself and became such an important part of his downfall, I knew Thea would never do that.

Same as I knew Bradley and Thea would never make it, I knew Jake and Thea were destined to be together. That was a no-brainer.

The balance between writing Bradley and Jake as love interests is what intrigued me the most, how different and at the same time, alike, they are. It's a swamp of navigation but I knew I needed to write it.

I could go on and on but I'll stop here. Thank you so much for this ask, it's been great fun answering it. You know my DM's are always open!

[pumpkinblossoms]

OK, in the spirit of positivity, here are my top reads of 2022!

A bit in the way of context: I am a librarian, I read a lot, and, for better or for worse, I live and breathe books/publishing buzz/ARCs/etc. The list below is purely based on my own fully biased opinions, though those biases have nothing to do with whether I had early access to a title, a connection to the publisher, etc. and everything to do with whether a book is sad, gory, or gay. And thanks @explosionshark for suggesting I write this up!

DEAD COLLECTIONS by Isaac Fellman: holy fuck was this book good. The whole “trans vampire falling in love and solving a quiet, sad mystery in the archive where he works” angle is catchy, but this is definitely not the fluffy or straightforward story some people are after. I really loved how vampirism is depicted as a life-ruining weakness rather than a cool and sexy superpower. I also really loved the multimedia aspect of including forum posts and TV scripts and listserv chains.

BABEL: AN ARCANE HISTORY by R.F. Kuang: I think some criticisms of this one, like that it’s slow and repetitive and a little didactic, are founded. However, I couldn’t care less. R.F. Kuang excels at unhurried school stories that slowly and brutally dismantle themselves over hundreds and hundreds of pages, and the formula she establishes in the excellent Poppy War trilogy is perfected here. This is what actual dark academia looks like–The Atlas Six could never.

KISS HER ONCE FOR ME by Alison Cochrun: I used to read a lot of contemporary romance, specifically f/f romance, but after being burned over and over and over and OVER by bad books I’m incredibly selective about what I read and recommend in this genre. I gave Alison Cochrun a ton of shit for her incredibly mediocre debut, The Charm Offensive, but I am totally willing to say that she’s improved, and this book–while still definitely goofy and even grating at times–was probably the best f/f romance out in 2022 from a major publisher other than Delilah Green (which I read in 2021 and therefore did not include in this list, but also whose sequel sucked so much it honestly made me like the first one less). Do me a favor and don’t even read the back copy because it doesn’t make any fucking sense and will turn you off the book.

THE PALLBEARERS CLUB by Paul Tremblay: hoooo boy. OK. So this one got dismal reviews from the Goodreads crowd, but I believe fully and genuinely in my heart that everybody is wrong about it and should feel bad about how wrong they are. The thing is, Paul’s books are slow and atmospheric (are you sensing a theme to what kind of books I tend to like best) and there are no easy answers or moments of triumph or anything you might be led to expect via publisher-created blurbs or taglines. And going into a book with one expectation and having that expectation remain unmet is one of the quickest and simplest ways to have a bad-faith negative reaction to said book, in my personal experience. Like, could this book have been scarier? Definitely. But I loved it regardless, and I loved that the physical format of the book–Art’s memoiry fiction draft, or fictiony memoir draft, depending on your perspective, plus his best friend Mercy’s commentary written in red in the margins–is the sort of embodied story that I love because it fucking sucks to read on a screen or an ereader. You’re tied to the format, either print or audio (which I hear was well done for this one, though I haven’t heard it myself), and that’s great to me.

THE THOUSAND EYES by A.K. Larkwood: In my opinion this duology is criminally, WOEFULLY underrated. Csorwe is a grumpy butch orc warrior and she spends most of her time getting herself and her terrible frenemies out of trouble and also falling in love with a powerful sorceress. This book is the second one and is gloriously angsty and everyone gets middle-aged and sad and yet they all still pine for one another across time and space. I cried. I’m not sorry. It’s GOOD.

AN ARCHIVE OF BRIGHTNESS by Kelsey Socha: ok, full disclosure, this is my wife’s book, but it came out in August and it’s a lovely group of interwoven weird little gay stories. I would’ve loved it even if I didn’t share a mortgage with the author, I promise. Like, people live in houses made of scorpion corpses. Come on.

Honorable mentions: I didn’t really feel like getting too much into YA here, but I really liked CONFESSIONS OF AN ALLEGED GOOD GIRL by Joya Goffney, which was a really honest and interesting exploration of purity culture and religion; HOW TO EXCAVATE A HEART by Jake Maia Arlow, an interfaith winter holiday f/f romance (what a year for holiday romances, sheesh); and HELL FOLLOWED WITH US by Andrew Joseph White, a really gross and sad book that also manages to be incredibly, gleefully YA even as the protagonist morphs into a horrifying monster.

I also didn’t want to mention anything that hasn’t been released yet, so HOW TO SELL A HAUNTED HOUSE by Grady Hendrix and SOME DESPERATE GLORY by Emily Tesh are both out, even though both were SO GOOD and you should be foaming at the mouth to get your hands on them next year. And lastly, I didn’t think The Locked Tomb series needed any extra hype and if you haven’t picked it up yet it’s not like I’m going to convince you, so I didn’t bother saying anything about NONA THE NINTH although it was really very good.

And finally: I’m currently reading WHEN THE ANGELS LEFT THE OLD COUNTRY by Sacha Lamb which absolutely fucking rips so far, very much Good Omens meets Spinning Silver, but I haven’t finished it yet so it didn’t seem fair to count. I recommend it based on the first half, though!

PHEW ok that’s it! Send me your recs please!!

[leefics]

brothers: extras | literature assignment

excerpt | the one where (y/n) needs help with her literature homework.

pairing | brothers!namjoon x reader

genre | fluff

warning/s | none

lee’s notes | to celebrate republishing the other chapters, here's a little extra i've had in my drafts for awhile! tbh i just got a bit excited when i found out how to make fake texts on imessage and so i decided to test it out :) feel free to lmk how you feel about me posting these little blurbs once and awhile!

go to | home / m. list / faq / character profile

during the facetime:

"hey." you say, waving to namjoon.

he waves back to you before turning towards his laptop to open the file you sent him. "hey yoo." he says, causing you to smile upon hearing the nickname.

as the file loads, he turns back towards you, letting out a chuckle at your rather disheveled state. "what time is it there?" he asks, resting his chin onto the palm of his hand.

you sigh and glance towards your alarm clock, crinkling your nose when you read what it says. "it's almost 12 am." you respond, wincing when you see namjoon's eyes widen.

"yah—why are you still up?" he says, looking at you in surprise.

you huff in defeat before looking downwards to fidget with the ball in your hands. "i've been catching up on assignments. for some reason, all our teachers thought it would be a good idea to schedule the deadlines at the same time." you respond, a small pout forming onto your face.

namjoon frowns in concern upon hearing this, well-aware of how much stress you're probably under. "i'm sorry to hear that." he responds, the sympathy evident in his tone.

you glance towards him when you hear his response, giving him a small thankful smile. "it's okay, i mean, i guess i'll just have to live with sleeping a bit later for the rest of week." you say, making namjoon sigh.

"just remember to prioritize your health, okay? i pulled a few all-nighters too when i was still in school but i want you to know that your well-being is more important than anything." he says, staring at you directly through the screen. "trust me, it's better to put your sleeping schedule first than to force yourself to finish the rest of the assignments while you aren't in your best state."

you nod at this, letting out another sigh. "thank you, joons. i needed that." you say, giving him a smile.

he simply smiles back and nods before responding, "of course, (y/n). and hey, if you ever need someone to talk to or just need help with an assignment, just send me a message, alright?"

you let out a laugh at this, staring at him. "even when it's 2am in korea?" you playfully ask, namjoon chuckling and rolling his eyes.

"i think you might be better off calling yoongi-hyung that late at night."

you simply smile and nod, scooting closer to the screen. "will do. but seriously—thank you for saying all of that and for agreeing to help me. i know it's not the easiest thing to say yes to, especially considering the fact that you're probably busy."

namjoon shakes his head at this, looking at you reassuringly. "we always have time for you, (y/n)-ah. no worries." he replies, giving you a thumbs up before clapping his hands. "now, speaking of helping you, shall we start reading?"

you chuckle and nod, grabbing your pen and a piece of paper. "take it away, professor kim."

after the facetime:

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Writeblr Reintro (Two!)

Hi! I'm Pax (he/him), and I've been on writeblr for two years now! This little reintro thing has become a bit of an annual tradition, so I figured I'd keep it going :D

The basics about me:

I'm an adult, queer, and neurodivergent

My favorite genres to both read and write are Fantasy (preferably High and/or Epic), SciFi, and Horror. The only genre I don't vibe with is romance (but I do like to hype up that of fellow writers!)

My current fixations include Stardew Valley, Minecraft, The NoSleep Podcast, and Not Another D&D Podcast

I have just recently gotten myself out of a reading slump! Now, I'm working my way through She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb to connect with my mom's favorite book <3

As for tumblr things:

I do digital art, and take commissions through Ko-Fi on occasion! Relevant information is linked in my pinned post. I've drawn plenty of people's OCs in the past, and I'd love to draw yours, too!

As for my writing:

WIPs! I have several of them!

My main WIP is called The Millennium Saga. It's a High Fantasy series planned to have between 4 and 7 installments; book one (Firebreathers) is finishing up with its first round of beta readers, and I'm about a third of the way through drafting book two (Echoseers)!

A socially anxious and PTSD-ridden revolutionary gets dragged into working with the very king they rebelled against--a.k.a. the Chosen One, who supposedly saved the world 1000 years ago and has since become Eternal, alongside his former lover and the woman who gave the two the idea in the first place. But supposedly is used with good reason, and with the help of their melodramatic and vain boyfriend, the son of a banished noble descended from one of those very Eternals, and their found family forged in friendship and fear, they might just save the world for real this time.

The rest of the blurbs will be behind the cut, since there's three of them and I don't want to absolutely wreck your dashes. But if you'd like to hear more about a Dark Fantasy crime syndicate, an Urban Fantasy road trip thriller, and a clusterfuck of a Space Opera, you should click through!

And, of course, tell me about your own WIPs! Introduce yourself! Make some funny references in the tags that I may or may not understand! I will enjoy all of the above :D

Whispers is a Tragic Dark Fantasy standalone novel set in the same world as TMS (called the Ehlverse!), but in a slightly different time and very different place.

Three unlucky lackeys are summoned north by the evil sorceress leader of a criminal ring that specializes in bastardizing the idea of a "life debt". And though escape is something one cannot do for long when running from the Shadow of Fowden, freedom is a tempting thing for those only recently bound. So when she offers it in exchange for their aid in terrorizing their culture's paragons of morality, they agree, even though they suspect she's lying. What other chance will they get? One of those paragons is still in mourning, though, almost twenty years after her childhood fell to ruin. She's not about to let this entity calling herself a Shadow ruin even more. And she's not about to hold her punches for the henchmen, because the hope of her people comes first. She'll swear it on her sister's grave.

Deity Complex is an Urban Fantasy Thriller standalone set in an alternate reality where everyone has a little touch of mundane magic.

A teenage car accident survivor desperately attempts to evade the government seeking to use them as a weapon of war by driving the loneliest, most winding backroads in America on repeat. At least doing this gives them some much-needed headspace... but that mostly ends up occupied with the struggle to not to become a cryptid sighting meme on social media. Because of course. What that headspace should be put towards, though, is coming to terms with the fact that they have an ancient deity of death, plague, and war hitching along for the ride in their brain. Like, the entity that created those very concepts. Wild, huh? But, you know, it's apparently not the rarest thing, this pocket of the brain called a Deity Complex. Which honestly? They're a bit pissed about not being told that. They had a whole breakdown about being weird, and for what? For a random girl they meet on the road to tell them she has a god of obsession in her head. That's what, apparently.

The Lost is a Space Opera that could either become a Webcomic or a novel of its own, set in a nebula lacking humans entirely (and yes, that means an all-original-alien cast. character design, my alleged passion, tries to destroy me yet again).

When the shapeshifting eldritch gladiator known only as the Champion refuses to fight the teenage fairy who was unwillingly thrown into the arena to die on screen, the coliseum goes into an affronted uproar. During that meltdown, while the audience that feeds on bloodshed froths at the mouth, an attending assassin with malfunctioning psychic implants ruins the show further by ignoring her target in favor of breaking the child combatant out--and warily accepts help from the Champion themself to the same end. Upon their escape, though, they find that a domestic terrorist-turned-janitor has ended up as an accidental stowaway, and may or may not be an unwitting point of further surveillance by their captors. They find common ground, though, in this breach of privacy, trust, and autonomy, and team up to destroy the Space Hollywood™ trauma-porn industry, one oligarch's corpse at a time.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Here’s another thought based off this blurb I wrote. 

Reader Insert. 

CW: Smut adjacent. 

_________________

You’re just on the couch, feet propped up on the edge of the coffee table still scrolling through TikTok. Calum’s taken resident up in your lap, head resting on your thighs and his phone is preoccupying him too. That TikTok keeps coming back to your head, the sudden change from the soft voice over to Corpse’s voice. It looks some lurking, and lots of Googling on how to actually make a TikTok, but in the search you come up with a plan. It in some part requires Calum to trust you. 

“Babe?” you start, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I make a TikTok of you?”

He looks up, tearing his gaze from his phone. “What-what you are you thinking about?”

“Using the same sound off the same video I showed you. Just tickles, really,” you say. 

“God, I hate tickles. But sure, I guess.”

You kiss his nose, “Thanks, babe.” 

“Do I need to do anything?”

“Nah, just say comfy,” you encourage, kissing his forehead. 

He nods, turning his head just a little to kiss at your tummy. “I can do that.” As the countdown starts, you drag your fingers over his scalp. The song plays and your fingers move into his armpits and he giggles. His natural reaction is to squeeze his arms to his side. It ultimately keeps your hand trapped but you laugh just a little at his response. 

As the bass drops and Corpse’s voice filters through, you’re able to wriggle your hand free and slide it over his chest. He settles, peering up at you to see if you’re done. In this action, you’re able to slip your hand up to his throat and give it a small squeeze. The surprise isn’t missed as Calum gasps for just a second before a tiny tiny moan escapes him. His eyes flutter for just a moment. You’re positive the audio is done by now but you do lean down to press a kiss to his lips. 

Calum’s not one to usually submit, but it’s there. He does like to be taken care of sometimes and it tends to happen when things get stressful with work or when he’s got a lot on his plate. And it’s not that he can’t take care, it’s not like he can’t take care of things, but sometimes it’s have someone else do it. It’s nice to have someone else please him. 

And truth be told, the action should shock him. He should recoil given that you just tickled him, but there’s a gleam in your eyes when you leaned into him. You looked so proud to see him respond that way, to see him trust you, so he pull himself into a seating position and cups your cheek. “You didn’t tell me that was part of the bit.”

You’re acutely aware to save the draft, but your phone is the last of your worries. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

The distance between you two is short, and grows even shorter as you push up and Calum leans in. His nose brushes over yours. “Considered me surprised.” The pad of his thumb strokes your cheek before he drags his whole palm down and cups your throat in return. 

You push forward to seal his mouth in a kiss, peeling his hand away from your flesh. The kiss is short before you pull away. “I don’t think you get to call the shots right now, baby.” 

Calum can only let out a shaky exhale as you kiss over the side of his neck, “Okay.”

Calum’s head rests on your chest, the blanket draped on the back of the couch thrown over the both of you. His fingers trace over your sides slowly. Your fingers are scratching over his scalp. “Do you remember if we got Oreos last trip to the store?” you ask quietly. Your fingers move down to the muscle of his back, scratching just a little at the flesh.

“We did. But I can’t say any is left,” he laughs, sitting up. “Which might entirely be my fault, but that’s neither here nor there.” He redresses but drapes the blanket back over you, even goes as far as to tuck the ends around you. 

“I am not prisoner to the couch,” you tease.

“You must certainly are.” While Calum checks the kitchen for Oreos, you redress mostly but rewrap yourself in the blanket. 

“Huzzah, a full sleeve is left,” Calum declares from the kitchen and then rushes back into the living room. He plops down behind you, resting the package in your lap. You feed him the first one and the voice from the TV surround the two of you. The two of you enjoy the sleeve and then eventually move into the bedroom to wash up and retire under the sheets. 

The next morning when you check your phone, as you open the Twitter app your notifications are absolutely flooded. You check to see what happened. Normally, there’s a tweet about you here and there, but you turned off notifications just in general to be safe. But you still checked it periodically. As the tweet loads, you pull your brows down into confusion. Didn’t know they got it on like THAT!

When you scroll up in the chain, you spy the TikTok. You could’ve sworn you had only saved the draft not published it. But when you change to the TikTok app, you realize at the top of your profile is the video. “Holy shit.” You climb out of bed and scurry to find Calum. You’re already trying to get your fingers to stop shaking so you can delete the video. But at this point it is too late, you realize. “Babe?” you call out into the house. “Babe?!”

“Outside,” comes his reply and you spin around and hurry down to the open backyard doors. 

“Babe, I’m so sorry,” you rush out. 

Calum takes in the panic in your eyes and how your phone is wobbling in your hand. “Hey, hey, whatever it is, we’ll work through it, okay?” But all you can seem to do is just apologize. He nods, guiding you into his chest and rubs his hand up and down your back. “Ssh, take a deep breathe.”

“I-I thought the video was just a draft,” you say more but it gets slightly muffled as you press your face deeper into his skin. 

Calum can deduce the problem though. “But you published it by accident?” he asks. You nod. “And I can only assume it only took a matter of time before fans found it huh?” You give another nod. 

A sigh leaves his chest and you pull back, “I-I deleted it once I found out and it’s a throwaway account. It’s not even my face as the profile picture you know? I-I thought I was being safe.”

“Shit happens,” Calum returns, using his fingers to wipe away the tears. “It’s out there now. What else can we do?”

“I’m so sorry.” 

He kisses your forehead. “I accept your apology. Let’s get some waffles, want waffles?”

You’re not sure how Calum can be so calm about this. “You’re-you’re not mad. After everything?”

“You posting something by accident isn’t the same, okay? Besides, that video is the most harmless thing that’s come out. You know, none of us are saints, nor do we pretend to be saints.” He shrugs. “Besides, what a way to confirm a relationship, you know?”

The two of you had been dating for a while, two years and some change. You had popped up occasionally in an Instagram posts and you two got spotted here and there hanging out. But you were pretty good at keeping your face hidden or turned away from paps when you could spot them. One picture of your face had surfaced, really early on. But not much since then. 

Of course, the fans still speculated after all these years that you two were still together but neither you or Calum had done anything to confirm it. It didn’t bother you, you kinda liked the secrecy. It was easier to ignore the occasional tweet about your relationship but most fans had a feeling nothing would ever really be said. 

Until now. 

And sure, Calum is right on some front. You can’t really do anything about it now. The video is out and no doubt making its rounds. “I’m just going to delete the account, but yes to waffles.”

“If you want to, then I won’t stop you. But really I’m not mad.” 

You take a moment to look at him, study his gaze. It’s steady, he looks more concerned than anything else. “Sorry,” you say one last time. It’s clear that there’s not much else that he can say that will ease your fear. 

He presses another kiss to forehead, rubbing his hands over your arms. “Let’s go get dressed and eat waffles.”

You nod and it finally dawns on you that Calum had been out with Duke and you spy him laying your and Calum’s feet, completely content to stretch out the rest of the day. You kiss Calum’s cheek and then pick up Duke to nuzzle your nose into his fur. “Oh, buddy, bath time soon for you,” you laugh, but Duke just nuzzles into you. 

You settle onto the edge of the bed and Duke rests on your lap. You delete the TikTok account. There’s thousand of tweets it seems, so many comments and you can only imagine that Instagram is going to look the same so you take point not to look at it and to stop looking at Twitter as well. It’s not going to do anything good for you at this point. 

As you pull clothes from the dressers and closet, Calum returns to the bedroom. He walks pass you but takes a moment to squeeze your elbow three times. You turn to watch him disappear into the attached bathroom but smile just a little. Three squeezes, always a way to say I love you without necessarily saying it. You two use it most often when you and Calum go out into public, or at parties. Two squeezes means let’s go/there’s a problem. But three, and no more than three is your secret way to say I’m always there with you and for you. 

The car ride is quiet, but you hold Calum’s hand like always. It’s easy enough to slip into the breakfast diner. You pick at the corner of the napkin the utensils are wrapped in. The waiter is quick to get your orders. But you’ve stayed silent still. “Look, if waffles don’t fix this, I will go to extreme measures,” he teases after trying to gain your attention. 

You roll your eyes, but smile. “God, let’s not do that either.”

He laughs and takes your hand. “I mean, I would always go to the extreme measures for you.”

“Thanks.” The waitress comes back around to refill your water glasses and assure you your food will be coming out soon. “Wanna go to Lowe’s after this? Still gotta find materials for those shelves in your music room.”

He nods. “Yeah we can check them out. But if you stop me from buying my string of pearls, I will riot.”

“I want one just as much as you do, but we need a place for it first.”

“Nonsense. No plan. Just buy.”

Your food is brought out a couple of minutes later and the waffles do make you feel a little bit better, but right in the back of your head is the morbid curiosity to check what is happening on social media. You struggle against it continue to eat on. The sun’s a little brighter as you and Calum leave the diner. You keep your head down and walk a little behind him, but he reaches back, wiggling his fingers for you. 

“You sure?” you whisper. 

“What are paps going to get now that’s news?” There’s a devilish grin on his face and you give in, catching up and taking his hand. You’re pretty sure you can spot a pap or two but you don’t think too much about it as you stride side by side with Calum. 

In the Lowe’s you keep close to Calum, finding the right size planks that would be needed. He drags you over to the plants and allow yourself to be dragged over.  “You’re the one that got me hooked on this. This is your fault,” he teases. And you’ll admit it is kinda your fault. You wanted to bring in a few house plants, which Calum admitted to avoiding because he wasn’t home a lot. Though you weren’t sure how that logical applied to a dog, but never the less, your interest in house plants has rubbed off on Calum. 

You steer the pallet around with the planks you’re going to use for the shelves, long with the brackets and screws. You might’ve taken over a corner if the garage with some power tools and a small saw for some home projects you’ve wanted to take on. And so now, you tend to take up to some handy projects around the house and Calum’s always there to help hold whatever you need him to hold. 

“There are already three plants on this things, let’s slow down,” you tease. 

“Never,” he replies, placing another one down. “Kitchen window?” 

You nod. “Sounds good to me.”

When you two get home, you unload the planks into the garage and Calum finds his gardening gloves to move the plants into some pots. You watch him settled onto the steps that lead up from the garage into the house, gently pat some extra soil around the plant. “Want some help repotting?”

“It’s only two more,” he returns but does look up pushing his lips out for a kiss. You laugh and kiss him but check the soil on two he’s finished potting to see if they need water. “Can you add a little water to that first one for me?”

“Of course.” It’s not long before you add a little water to the plant and you settle in front of him, snapping a photo of the concentration on his face. It’s slightly obstructed by the baseball cap, but you angle it well enough.

“Cutie,” you whisper and pinch his cheeks. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he laughs. The last plant potted, he turns his attention back to you. “How’s it going? You okay now?”

You shrug. “Better, I guess. Still feel bad.”

“That’s valid. It’s okay if you still feel bad. But all in all, we’re okay. If you’re worried.” You nod, fingers rubbing over leaves gently. “Check my Instagram.” That’s all he says before turning around and head inside with one of the plants. 

You stay seated and pull up the platform. When you find Calum’s profile, you a new post. It’s a series, indicated by the white square icon in the top right corner. The first one is hardly a photo of you from years ago but the other two in it are more recent, the last actually a video of you struggling to get some of the planks from the display in Lowe’s. Calum’s voice floats through your speaker and the camera bounces a little as he moves in to help. “Let me help. You’re going to kill yourself trying to do all that by yourself,” he laughs. 

“In my will, I will leave you everything then,” you counter and hoist the plank up. 

The video is still rolling and captures you grinning as you pointing just off screen, “To plants for my good sir?”

He giggles. “To plants!” and the video ends. 

Here’s a very short collection of two years and 3 and a half months, reads the caption and that’s all. 

“Calum,” you call out, grabbing the string of pearls and head inside. He shuffles to a stop having been coming around the corner. “I love you. Your post is sweet. Now where do we locate the newest plant baby?”

“Kitchen window. Other will are going in the office.” You go to step past him but he squeezes your elbow-- three times. 

[darthkruge]

Poe Dameron x Reader ~ Take Mine

Summary || On your first mission as Commander of Blue Squadron, you take Poe’s X-wing. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go as planned. 

Warnings || Some injuries and a bit of blood? I didn’t go super in detail, though

Words || 2.2k

A/N || This is my first time writing for Poe and I’m so scared and I tried to be accurate and if it’s not I apologize but if I spent another minute staring at this draft I will scream. Special thanks to @poestardust and @buckysbeloved because y’all were both super fucking supportive and without that this might not have been posted! I am now officially adding Poe to the people I write for and while my requests for full fics are closed, I am more than willing to do little blurbs/hc’s or hear any and all of y’alls soft/angsty thoughts for that wonderful Flyboy. My status of requests gives more insight into all of this :)

gif credit

You groaned, shaking your head as you racked your brain for a way to get out of this. Your X-wing was supposed to be fixed a week ago, a solid few days before your mission was set to start. But, alas, Red Squadron had a bit of a rough mission coming off Hoth and needed repairs more rapidly than you, so your starfighter was put on the low priority list. 

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. You could be patient. Normally. But you had just been promoted to Commander of Blue Squadron and your first mission left in two standard hours. 

You walked through the door of your room, trying to find a solution but continuing to come up empty. 

“Sweetheart?” Your head perked up at Poe’s voice, the concern clear in his words. 

“What happened, why aren’t you with the rest of the Squadron getting ready?” 

“My starfighter isn’t ready.” You said, trying to make sense of the words as they came out.

Poe blinked. “Still?” 

“Yeah, the other repairs are taking longer than usual and it’s not ready and it won’t be ready and I have to lead my team on a supply drop and try to not get everyone killed and I don’t even have my kriffing X-wing!” Your voice shook, the lack of control making you anxious as you paced back and forth through your quarters. 

Poe’s hands found their way to your shoulders, steadying you. “Look at me, okay? Breathe for a second,” Poe gave you a slight smile as you nodded, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. “Yeah, just like that. It’s gonna be just fine, we’ll figure it out!” 

Now, the panic creeped back into your expression. “How?!” 

Poe thought for a second, mentally grasping at straws before his eyes widened in realization. “Take mine!”

“What?!”

“Take my X-wing! It’s all ready to go and Black Squadron isn’t set to go on our next mission for another two weeks! You’ll be back well before then, it’ll work out just fine!” 

“But- I can’t just take your X-wing, Poe!”

“Yes you can! Come on, I don’t really see what other options you have! Just take it, please? It’ll bring you good luck.” 

You sighed, realizing he was right. “Okay, okay, fine!”

Poe smiled, leaning in to peck you on the lips. “Now, go! You don’t want to be late, do you, Commander?” 

“Oh, no, definitely not, Commander! That would set a horrible example for my team!” You quipped back before leaning in once more. “I love you.” You whispered. 

“I love you too.” He smiled back. “Seriously!” He said with a laugh, “Go!” 

“Going!” You called over your shoulder as you ran to the hanger. 

A week and two days later, that conversation was the only thing on your mind. You were desperately steering your- no, Poe’s- X-wing away from the fleet of First Order ships flying straight for your Squadron. Somehow, they’d learned of your plans for the supply drop and decided to swing by. How thoughtful of them. 

“Okay, everyone. Just hang tight, shoot if you’ve got a clear shot but no one’s trying to be a hero, alright? First priority is getting home safe.” You said through the open channel.

 You smiled as you heard your team voice their approval, ending their messages with a “Commander” here and there. Right now, all you were doing was hoping you were deserving enough of that title to get everyone back in one piece. 

Looking to make sure everyone was in line, you felt your heart drop as you counted the starfighters. Everyone was there, minus one. Where was Snap? Craning your neck, you swore as you saw him caught on the right side, boxed in by two First Order TIE fighters. 

You quickly opened a private communication channel. “Tallie?”

“Yes, Commander L/N?”

“Make sure everyone stays ahead of the TIE fighters, okay? Keep moving forward.”

“Y/N what are you talking about?”

You sighed, consciously working to keep your voice even and calm. “Snap’s stuck and I’m not leaving him. I’ll be fine, just a little bit behind you. Just… get them home.” 

“But-”

“Please.” 

You felt guilty for being short with her, but you had to do it. If you didn’t, she’d know how kriffing terrified you were. 

After waiting a moment, she sighed. “Okay. Be safe, Commander.”

“Same to you.” You replied, shutting off the channel. You forced the tears back in your eyes and refused to let your thoughts dwell any more on your Squadron or that beautiful, dark haired pilot you knew was waiting for you. 

You turned Poe’s X-wing and sent a prayer to the Maker as you made a bee-line for one of the two TIE fighters and fired, shooting one directly. You laughed, almost giddy at how spot-on the hit was. 

“Commander?” Snap’s voice filtered through the communication system. 

“Hang on, I’ve almost got it.” You bit your lip in concentration as you aimed for the second fighter. But right as you pressed fire, so did they. Your eyes widened as you quickly swerved. Luckily, the blast didn’t hit the front of the starfighter, or else you’d be good as dead right now. Unluckily, you gasped in horror as your ship began plummeting, realizing they had hit your engine. 

You turned your head back, praying that this wasn’t in vain. You let out a breath, realizing Snap was now free and the other TIE was demolished, thanks to your aim. If you’re going to go down, at least you brought two First Order fighters with you. 

As your X-wing came closer and closer to the ground, you screwed your eyes shut. Against your will, you remembered that at least your last conversation with him had been a good one. Your heart broke, realizing he’d probably find a way to blame himself for this, forever. That you’d never get married, never have the chance to settle down after the war ends. That you’d never again feel his lips against yours, never again experience the warmth of his arms or the comfort of his embrace. How could life work like this, how could it simply-

Your thoughts were cut off as your starfighter crashed to the ground, leaving you in darkness. 

-------

“What do you mean, their starfighter went down?!”

Leia sighed, subtly but firmly gesturing for everyone else to clear the briefing room. “Blue Squadron’s supply run didn’t go as planned. There were first order TIE fighters waiting for them. I’m not sure of the specifics, just that Commander L/N’s X-wing’s communication systems went out. Snap said Y/N went down saving him and when he rushed back to their crashed X-wing, they were breathing, but unconscious and bleeding.” 

Her eyes softened as she saw Poe’s heartbroken expression. “I’m sorry, Poe. I know you must be feeling helpless right now. But there is no reason to assume the worst, at least not yet.”

Poe swallowed hard, the tears making his throat heavy. “I’m-” His voice broke, the pain evident. “I’m gonna go wait at the hangar bay. They’ll make it home.” 

Leia just nodded, not having the heart to tell him to try to prepare himself for the worst. 

-------

When you woke up, you were in Snap’s X-wing, leaning against the wall in the small space. You groaned when you moved your hand to your head. Yup, you were definitely bleeding. 

“Where are we?” You croaked out. 

Snap’s head shot over to you. “Oh thank the Maker, you’re awake! We’re almost back at the base. Just sit still, okay?”

You nodded, already feeling a bit groggy.

“Y/N?!” 

You gave an annoyed hum in response.

“Come on, Y/N, don’t fall asleep. Hold on a little longer.” 

You nodded, fighting against every instinct you had to stay conscious. 

“Kriff, okay. Talk to me, okay?”

“About what?” Your mouth felt like sandpaper and your head was heavy. Even as you leaned it against the wall, you felt dizzy, like you’d tip over at any second. 

“Dameron. Tell me about Dameron, okay?”

Your lips unconsciously curled into a soft smile. And then your eyes shot open as you tried to physically shake the dizziness from your body. “The X-wing!”

“What?!”

“My, no, his X-wing! Poe’s, his- he’s gonna be so upset, kriff!” 

“What are you going on about?”

“Poe, he let me use his X-wing and it kriffing crashed and-” You trailed off, running a hand through your hair and wincing as the movement aggravated your injured head. 

“Y/N, calm down, okay? He’ll be fine, he’s not gonna care.”

You nodded, eyes filling with guilty tears as Snap finally pulled up to the Resistance Base. Home. As the X-wing opened, Snap helped haul you up as Poe sprinted over to you. 

“Y/N!” He called, hands coming to hold either side of your face. He quickly put one of your arms around his shoulders as his wound around your waist, holding your weight against him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so-” You hiccupped, tears leaking from your eyes. 

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright. Let’s just get you back to our room, yeah?” 

You shook your head, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. He looked into your eyes and his concern compounded, no idea why you were so distraught. 

“I crashed your X-wing.” You said, head hung in shame. 

Poe was now just as confused as he was concerned. “I… I know, sweetheart. But you’re safe now, I’ve got you. Just a little more walking and then I can clean you up.” 

“No! I, you don’t understand! Poe, it’s not just scratched up, it’s ruined. We had to leave it, it’s gone and it’s my fault and I’m so, so sorry.”

He just shook his head, still shocked that you thought he was upset about that. “Y/N, I know. But I’m not worried about that, I’m worried about you. Now would you please let me get you back to our room?” 

You nodded but he didn’t miss how the guilt refused to leave your gaze. When you finally got inside, he led you over to the bed and got you to sit down. 

“I’m fine, seriously.” 

Poe quirked his eyebrow. “You’re bleeding from the head.” 

He walked quickly into the refresher, coming back with the medkit you’ve used on him millions of times before. As he worked on disinfecting the cut on your head, you bunched your fingers in the bedsheets, distracting yourself from the pain of the gash. Noticing, he muttered a quick apology, taking a break to stroke his thumb across your cheekbone. Finally, he finished stitching the cut and gently placed a bandage over the area, smoothing out the edges. 

When he looked up, he saw you lost in your own mind. “Come on, baby, talk to me.” 

“You just… you loved that ship and you trusted me with it and you’d had it for so long and I can’t believe I wrecked it.” 

Poe sighed, wishing there was something he could do to convince you that everything was alright. 

“Sweetheart, it’s a kriffing X-wing. Why are you so worked up about it?” His voice was soft and free of judgment. 

“I just feel like I let you down.” 

“Hey,” He said, taking your hands in his. “You did nothing of the sort. I promise, I’m not upset, okay? I’m just glad you made it home to me.” 

You looked up at him. “I’ll always come home to you.” 

You scooted over and gestured to the bed, a silent invitation. Poe smiled at you and took a second to take off his boots and jacket before climbing in beside you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, careful not to hit your head while doing so. You leaned into him, your face resting comfortably in the crook of his neck as you breathed in his scent. He pulled back for a second, just to grab the covers and move them so they were all around you and up to your chin, just as you liked. 

Under the blankets, you moved your hand so it was resting on his heart. You liked doing so, feeling the steady beating of it after a long mission. Poe was used to it by now and simply placed one of his hands atop yours, his thumb rubbing up and down. 

“And you know it’s not your fault, right?” He said, breaking the silence 

“Poe, I was literally the one that crashed it.” You reasoned, lifting your head up to look at him. 

“They shot you down as you took out two TIE fighters! No one could have gotten out of that.” 

“But you had so many memories attached to that X-wing-”

“-And we’ll make new ones.” He finished. 

You sighed and nodded, a slow smile creeping onto your face that let Poe know that you at least somewhat believed his words. Inwardly, he cheered, quite proud of himself for getting through to you. Outwardly, he just tucked you further into his embrace and relished in the feeling of you safe, home, and in his arms.

----

tagging people on my permanent taglist + peoples who wanted a tag/might be interested? if i wrongly guessed you’d be interested please feel free to ignore sfklsj!!

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth @sodaoverstars @artiza-n @poestardust @beskar-tano @starwarsflowers @sunsetkenobi @90steaology @marvelinsanity @dracowars @collywobbl @dameronology​ @marvel-ousnesss​

also: i added poe to my taglist and if you would like to be added to those tags, the link to join my taglist is in my pinned! if you’ve already joined my taglist, you can just fill it out again in full or just check poe’s name and either way i’ll know because the last question on the form lets me know if you’re new to the taglist or simply editing your previous answer :)

also i sent this fic to the queue because i have never been more scared to post something

[nanowrimo]

A Step-by-Step Guide to Self-Publishing a Middle Grade Adventure Book

It can be so exciting to share your story with the world! While everyone’s writing journey is different and there’s no right way to seek publication, here’s a guide from middle grade author RJ Vantalos detailing the steps they took to get their novel published:

Back in November 2018, my writing partner (my fiance’s 11-year-old daughter!) and I wanted to craft a middle-grade fiction book during NaNoWriMo. We decided to write about a family that has magical powers that they use to save a romp of Sea Otters in Monterey Bay. 

That NaNoWriMo journey created the first draft of the book we just self-published called The Magical Mystical Mirror under our pen name RJ Vantalos. Why a pen name?

As artists, we want to focus on our art and write some great stories together. RJ Vantalos gives us the space to collaborate as co-authors in this adventure series under a single banner, without blurring the lines with other aspects of our respective lives. Besides, RJ Vantalos is just an awesome pen name and was begging to be put to use.

We wanted to share how we did it so that if you might have a book you want to self-publish, you’ll at least have one experience to guide you.

Know Your Genre and What Readers Expect

At the time, we wanted to write a middle-grade story that had some roots in our lives. Since we take trips to Monterey Bay often (at least before COVID), we decided to make that the setting of our story.

Since one of us is a middle-schooler who loves both Scooby-Doo and Nancy Drew, it was decided that she would guide what a middle-grade reader might want to read about. This was invaluable and allowed us to fill in a lot of the story as we took our trips to Monterey Bay Aquarium, Mission Carmel, and Cannery Row.

We also knew that we wanted to have some magic, mystery, and a “crime” to solve. That led us down the path of Fantasy/Adventure that’s a cross between Scooby-Doo and Harry Potter.

What this also did was make us realize that we needed to have illustrations for the book. The middle-grade chapter books we are fond of, such as Boxcar Children, Nancy Drew, to name a few, all had illustrations. 

So the first step in our process (after we finished our Draft 0 during NaNoWriMo in 2019) was to find an illustrator. You can skip that if you don’t need them. 

Step 1: Find an Illustrator

We needed to have illustrations for the cover and beginning of each chapter. That was an essential part of what a middle-grade chapter book must provide for the reader. We worked with a local San Francisco artist named Julia Geller who writes books as well.

We had to make sure that our draft was not going to change too much since the illustrations will be based on what’s in each chapter. That’s why we needed to make sure it all made sense. This brings us to step 2.

Step 2: Have Friends and Family Read It

Thankfully, we have a wide variety of friends and family in our target reader group, so they served as our “beta readers.” This is an essential part of creating a story that works for your readers. As we had them read the close to final drafts, we got a lot of great advice on how to refine the story. This refining process is a good way to know when you’re ready to hire an editor.

Step 3: Hire an Editor

Hiring an editor is a great way to ensure that your final book makes sense and does not have typos. Since we already had the structure of the book nailed down, we only needed to hire a line editor as opposed to a structural editor.

For what, we used Kerrie McLoughlin, who not only is a great copy editor but also has kids in our age demographic. Win and double win! 

Step 3b: Rounds of Editing

Editing a book is such an art and it’s also something that feels like it’s never done. After we got the edits from Kerrie, we went through them to make sure they worked from our perspective. Even after that, we got others to look at it just to make sure.

If you don’t have someone awesome like Kerrie, there is a marketplace for editors on Reedsy.

Step 4: Create a Cover

Julia also did the cover illustrations for the book but not the cover. For that, we used 100covers. At first, you might be tempted to try and do a cover or use an automatic cover generator from one of the self-publishing tools (more on that later). We’d recommend against that. 

One thing we found is that automatically generated covers tend to be a little off and that makes the paperback look a little weird. For eBooks, that’s not as true. We’d say experiment with it and see how it looks. The beauty of self-publishing is that you control the process and can iterate over and over again. Which we did.

One upside with having 100covers do your cover is that we got a lot of marketing images to use as well since we picked that package.

Step 5: Format the Inside of the Book

Since we have images in our book, we hired Formatted Books to do both the paperback and the eBook. This worked out extremely well. At first, we tried to use the Reedsy formatting tool to create the print version. This did an okay job.

The problem was with the images and how we wanted them to look. We wanted the images to be above the first page of the chapter. The Reedsy tool did this but not on all of the chapters.

If you have a book that is not image-heavy (or no images at all), then you could save a bit of money on formatting. Again, play around with it and see how it turns out.

Step 6: Setup the Book on Blurb

We used Blurb.com as our “publisher” for the print version. It’s an easy site to use and also allows independent bookstores to order books as well. This was an important part of our promotion plan. We LOVE independent book stores and want all our friends and family to be able to buy them there.

Of course, with Blurb, they can also buy it on Amazon and Barnes and Noble if they so choose.

NaNoWriMo Young Writers Program participants also get a special Blurb discount by using the code YWP30

Step 6b: Setup the eBook on Kobo

Blurb.com does offer eBook distribution but you have to create an eBook from your print book pdf. This did not work out for us.

The formatting of The Magical Mystical Mirror turned out awful when we ran it through Blurb’s converter. It also gave us an error that we could not use the font that was in the print version. That was the main reason the formatting went wrong. When the tool tried to swap the fonts, everything went sideways. That’s why we went with Kobo.

Kobo.com allowed us to upload the eBook we got as part of the package from Formatted Books. This worked out awesome.

Kobo is easy to use and is a great way to sell the eBook (and audio if we had one) all over the world. We first heard of Kobo from Joanna Penn, whose podcast and books on self-publishing we relied on for help and guidance. She’s even done NaNoWriMo several times!

Step 7: Review Print & eBook

We did several rounds of galley copies of the print book to double and triple-check it. A galley copy is what publishers call the first book(s) “off the press” that is used for final checks.

We did find a couple of typos and mistakes in the galley copies that we had to feedback to Formatted Books. It’s hard to find every typo or misspelled word when looking at an electronic copy. We’d highly recommend getting a couple of galley copies to look at before officially hitting publish.

Step 8: Hit Publish!

On both Blurb and Kobo, you can keep your book in “draft” while you’re reviewing all the versions. You’ll also have to set pricing for all of your versions and if you’re selling to bookstores, the discounted price. Both tools have good guidance on this and we would recommend looks at “comps” in your genre. “Comps” are books that are similar to yours.

Congratulations! You just self-published your book. Have a party to celebrate while you think about how to promote your book.

The Promotion Plan

We love independent books stores and a big concern of ours was whether or not they could carry our book. Thankfully, if you use Blurb, they can.

Our promotion plan is centered around local independent bookstores and creating demand for the book via friends and family. Of course, writing a blog post on NaNoWriMo does not hurt either!

Research All Your Local Bookstores

We used bookweb.org to find our local books stores. This only works for U.S. based bookstores. They have a great search feature that gives you a URL for the search results. This URL is what we’re going to email to all our friends and family along with instructions on what to tell them.

We know this is a bit “old school” but it’s important to us that we try and promote our local independent bookstores to help our local economy. We’re not sure how successful it will be yet but it’s worth a try.

Thanks for Reading This Far

If you made it this far, thanks for reading our journey to self-publishing The Magical Mystical Mirror. It was a lot of work but also a lot of fun. There is something magical about seeing and feeling a book you worked on. For us, it’s a matter of pride and a job well done that we had an idea and it’s now a reality.

If you’d like to read The Magical Mystical Mirror, why not try and pick it up at your local independent bookstore. The ISBN number is 978-1034384199. Tell them RJ sent you! If you’d like the eBook version, then try Kobo.

RJ Vantalos is the pen name of the collaboration between an entrepreneur and his fiance's middle-schooler daughter who one day said "why don't you write books for kids?" So we did! RJ wants all young writers, their friends, and their adults to create more together. It's through creation that we can all learn more about each other and thrive. RJ lives in San Francisco, CA.

[purkinje-effect]

Asking for Trouble

Cait gets a terrible first impression of Melancholy, my Sole.

This blurb has sat in my drafts for a few years now, and I decided to polish it up and finish the thought. Not sure if the encounter will be canon to Anatomy, but it’s here nonetheless. (For those curious to timeline placement, we’ll say this is roughly after the Park Street Station stuff in Fourth Instar, and sometime after his falling out with Mac.)

TWs: Heavy angst, injury and death, drug use and alcohol, explicit description of drug side effects, and violence-baiting.

Cross-posted on AO3 here if you’d rather. Likes, comments, kudos, etc. are all greatly, greatly appreciated.

_____________________________________

Someone at the Dugout Inn had mentioned this place. ‘Choly had come here with a vague recollection that the Combat Zone had once paraded skin. It only served to live up to its name now without any innuendo. Observing a little violence could be cathartic, too, and damn, if he couldn’t use some catharsis after his myriad missteps in Goodneighbor. All his life a spectator, vicarious in every regard.

He belonged here far before Goodneighbor or Diamond City, regardless of looking the part. Who could say a quavering, grey little man wearing a white three piece suit over head-to-toe leather orthotic braces didn’t fit right in among these earthly, physical misfits? He certainly couldn’t see any hackneyed political messes or territory wars erupting here: only people blowing off steam any way they could find it.

He couldn’t entirely say he minded that Angel’s compulsive cleaning habits almost always nettled the Hister Handy into picking up after social locations like this burlesque theater which now showcased cage fights. The possibility any of these raiders might hack it almost avoided him altogether, since he seemed like the only one with a Pip-Boy with which to do so. Such a worry would stick with him long-term after what he’d seen the Rust Devils do to Lowell.

His mind sang praises that Angel had allowed him to resume adding alkaloids to his meal replacement beverage, the Melancholia. Hubeine gave him negligible trouble compared to other options.

The fight unfolding before him was the billed spectacle for the night: for one hour, plus implicit encores, Cait would take down any body foolish enough to step foot into the cage to fistfight her unarmed. He swirled at some bourbon in a shot glass, from his bar seat to one side of the stage. His cataract eyes raised as he watched her continue through the athletic redhead’s performance. Somehow she managed restraint just shy of lethal blows, despite her precision and brute force. Any composure belied the depth of her murderous and bottomless rage. Glassy and lugubrious, he followed her bared teeth and retracted lips, her unblinking eyes, her adrenaline-wired and overworked musculature, her leaden instinctual footwork.

Despite having knocked out seven opponents in twenty minutes already, she wore more of their blood than they did.

In every mannerism, he recognized his enlisted in her. He stopped sipping at his liquor and threw the glass back, only to refill it.

Cait danced with the eighth opponent for about a minute before things escalated. The burly, hairy man pulled a switchblade on her, and managed to gouge her in the arm. In the physical sense, it didn’t faze her. In the mental sense, it had shattered the sanctity of her performance. She roared at him and lunged to sink her teeth into his face.

The crowd exploded. Her ghoul manager stepped in and attempted to stop the match-up, but he knew better than to get between her and the fool. She refused first aid, intent to fuck the guy up. The man kept his distance from her, knife still drawn, clutching at his gushing cheek. she voiced her displeasure to her manager, and he seemed to walk away and leave her again to her opponent... Only to bring her a baseball bat. A bloodied grin ripped across her face as she choked up on it like a familiar friend.

‘Choly smiled quaintly, head askew. The ghoul knew that the crowd demanded results--and more importantly, he knew that the crowd needed to see the consequences of forsaking what little honor they agreed upon in this dive.

She slugged him in the head. As he fell over, she proceeded to beat the shit out of him. The resultant din deafened much how ‘Choly might imagine Fenway Park during the World Series. Not that baseball had been his druthers. God, he wished that had been him on the receiving end. Between her hair, her leather corset, and the carnage, red was so very much her color. Head to toe, she was rage incarnate.

No one wanted to challenge her after that, especially not if they had to step around the bloody mess she’d splattered across the stage.

Time blurred a bit in ‘Choly’s shot glass. The next he looked up, he realized the champion sat beside him to drown herself in a fifth of vodka straight from the bottle. He straightened as coolly as he could, shifting to watch her. He adjusted his half-moon glasses, but could otherwise not obfuscate his alarm. He couldn’t leave alone the familiarity of the untethered ferocity with which she carried herself.

“Forgive me if this is forward of me, but I will get you any chems you want, if you will swear off cyclomorphine. The Psycho.”

“Bull shit,” came a potent Irish twang. She slammed down the bottle. Beneath the indignity in her glower, a tinge of fear felt more like the pressure of desperation. “You suggestin’ I couldn’t possibly fight as well as I do, weren’t I doped up? Your stupid mug hasn’t been here before. I’d remember. Who the hell do you think you are, to go around insultin’ the talent?”

His heart begged hot for her to retaliate. His gloved fingers tapped gingerly at the barely varnished countertop.

“I mean it. Name it. Med-X. Calmex. Anything but Psycho. I’ll even get dirty and brew you the most potent Jet you’ve ever had, if what you really need is escapism and not a low. CM isn’t a chem. It’s a death sentence. And... even if that’s the desired end result, that’s just about as gruesome and painful as it gets.”

She swiveled on the bar stool, resting both hands squarely on her spread knees. Her dead gaze bored through him.

“The fuck do you care so much about this wild theory of yours? You go around cold readin’ everybody’s vices tryin’ to hock your snake oil? Some salesman you are. You’ve got the Charisma of a Mirelurk egg that’s been in the sun.”

He raised his hands in defense, and then said what he meant sooner than meaning what he said.

“I’m not trying to sell you anything. I keep trying to offer solutions to the people I’ve hurt with my life choices, fix the damage rather than enterprise on it. Please let me get you chasing a different devil. Anything but that.”

“You’ve never met me in your life, and I don’t know your name or face from a Molerat in the floorboards. Don’t you try and bullshit me into believing you’re capable of fixing what ails me--and don’t you dare try to take credit for anyone that’s wronged me.”

“I’m the reason Psycho exists in the quantities it does in the Commonwealth. So yes, your pain IS my fault, at least part--”

His jaw seared. ‘Choly found himself sprawled in the floor. He felt around for his glasses, and as they returned to his face, he smiled up at her imploringly from where she stood over him. She cracked her knuckles sourly.

“I don’t have time for this nonsense. Tryin’ t’say I’m the one’s got a chem problem. What color is the sky for you? Forget you.”

Her hard exterior began to show signs of crumblign, in a series of stifled tics, most noticeably a corner of her mouth and the same ear. He could only begin to speculate to what exactly it was she’d taken exception, but he had to keep her attention, hold her contempt. Charm had never come naturally to him, so instead he had to sound the part of insisting at all costs that he was right.

“--Fine, you don’t want to quit. That’s a choice, too. I’ll make however much Psycho you want. You want to go out like that, I can help you with that. But I want you to know just exactly what that death looks like. Abscessed injection sites. Your gums and cuticles bleed. Your tear ducts bleed. It weakens all your capillaries, the tiniest blood vessels in your body. Internal bleeding. Organ deterioration. The numbness doesn’t turn off the pain--it only makes it so you don’t care. Is the anger easier than the hurt? If that’s how you want to go out, I’m not in any position to question it. But you might as well have an expert supplying you with it.”

Rather than help him up, she bore a heel down on his right hand. With an anxious chuckle, he winced, but welcomed being pinned in place. She glared down at him, seething. She didn’t want to hear another word from him, but she had to. Something about him surely sounded more deranged than intoxicated, and it threatened to haunt her.

“Do you know why cyclomorphine exists?” he continued, breath stuttering all the while. “Do you know what it is? Of course not. It was a prewar chemical--I can’t even comfortably endear it a chem--that the military developed so its soldiers no longer felt injury or fatigue. They endeavored to engineer soldiers who wouldn’t quit when hurt, even fatally. And it was only one of a dozen projects of its kind, to exploit the different aspects of human limits. Nothing human came from refining Psycho. It destroys something fundamental to a sense of humanity. The perfect formula didn’t concern itself with whether the patient came back in one piece, or alive at all. The Deenwood Project wasn’t poetic, wasn’t artistic, didn’t make a single beautiful thing. The fact that CM fell into paramilitary use after my tenure ended with the Army... and the fact it now as a result flows freely throughout the country as holdovers from... from the police attempting to keep the peace through intense and consistent violence... The fact is, I’m one of the chemists responsible for cyclomorphine’s end product. Responsible for it being one of the devices of America’s victory at Anchorage... So yes, yes I am. Responsible for what ails you. You’re civilian collateral of the United States Army.”

Her posture shifted slowly from anger to bitterness. She ground her heel into his palm. He pretended the token of her grief got through the reinforced officer’s glove.

“It’s not my place to question the source of your pain, and it’s not my place to insist that I be the one to take it away. I simply know that no matter how great the pain you’re in... Psycho dissolves parts of you, every time you use it to numb you. It begins physically, then advances to spiritually. It robs you of who you are.”

“That’s just the thing. I can’t handle bein’ me. This is the only part I’m fit to play. Besides, Tommy only cares if his juggernaut brings in the caps. I’m beholden to a contract. And the way I see it, you’re tryin’ to come between a man and his money, pokin’ around where your nose doesn’t belong! You’re lucky we’re out here and not in the cage, creep. Either I’m paid to beat your arse, or you’re askin’ to get blackballed.”

He sighed dreamily up at her, almost regretting that she let up on his hand. She drew her fists when his hand went to the lining pocket of his vest, but he chuckled producing a sack of caps.

“I thought you’d never ask. I admire one who rests their agency in someone else’s hands--or pockets, as it were. Surely, this is to the tune of you doing the honors. Add a black eye to the busted jaw. Tack on whatever you like. Ladies’ choice.”

She snatched the sack from him, frowning incredulously.

“What kind of sick flirting game is this? You tryin’ to buy me into bed? I know I’m easy on the eyes, but this isn’t a brothel these days, in case your damaged brain can’t tell the difference.”

He knew he wouldn’t be getting back the sack, but at least he’d tricked her into accepting some fleck of reparations from him.

“How many caps would it take to break your contract? To get you out of here?”

A broken sarcastic laugh crackled out of her. He’d long since surpassed overstepping, having moved on to stepping on toes.

“You’re insane if you think I’d ever want to leave the Combat Zone, especially not on the arm of the likes of you. I’ve got everything I could want here--except right now, not a place without you. You’re the one who needs to lay off the chems. Get your stupid brain-damaged arse out of here before I ask Tommy what I can do with you.”

He whistled for Angel, then retrieved his cane to stand.

“I suppose if you won’t let me help you, obliging you is the least I can do.”

With his Handy by his side, the two left without further question.

On his walk back to Hotel Rexford, he accepted that he’d probably never know the answer, but still he wondered if he had the same or opposite trouble as Cait: Were the two chasing a perpetual numbness, or were they chasing the futility of trying to feel anything again, at any cost?

[amwritesitall]

The Sarahs as Songs from Folklore and Evermore

Masterlist

Link in the names are the Spotify playlists I have for each character. These playlists are a never ending work in progress. Some posts can be found on a few of them on the Masterlist link above.

The reasoning for these songs vary. Some are like I’m pitching you a thesis for an essay and others are just little blurbs. Also, I apologize for any grammatical errors! A lot of this was worked on after midnight, so there might be a few errors I missed.

Billie Dean Howard

“cowboy like me”

I've got some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me Never wanted love Just a fancy car Now I'm waiting by the phone Like I'm sitting in an airport bar You had some tricks up your sleeve Takes one to know one

You're a cowboy like me Perched in the dark Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear Like it could be love I could be the way forward Only if they pay for it

You gotta love Billie Dean. This song gives me Billie vibes in the way that the narrator never was really looking for love, they just kind of stumbled upon it. Billie Dean was never really looking since she was focused on her show and her career in general, wanting fame and fortune. Settling down for love wasn’t in the cards, but then she finds the perfect person and the person she ends up falling for is someone similar to her, never wanting to settle down. 

Long story short, two lady killers meet and fall for each other.

“august”

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

A lot of folklore gives me teen au vibes for a lot of these characters. This one makes me think of teen summer romance au with lady killer Billie Dean. For teen Billie, I just picture her having a whirlwind summer romance that doesn’t last long, but it leaves such an impact on her and the other person even after they’ve returned to someone else at the end of the summer.

Lana Winters

“betty”

Yeah, I showed up at your party Will you have me? Will you love me? Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings? I'm only 17, I don't know anything But I know I miss you

I know this song isn’t gay, but I want it to be, so here we are. Pretty much my only reasoning for this one is teen au vibes.

“cardigan”

Sequin smile, black lipstick Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing

But I knew you Dancin' in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight, I I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, I

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

Secret relationship with Lana and her giving her lover all the love she deserves. Lana Winters is such a loving person and from her trouble with her family and others in her life, she knows what it’s like to feel like “an old cardigan sweater under someone’s bed” and she doesn’t want her lover to ever feel like that.

Another thing about this is in the first three lines. Lana is a young woman working in a mainly male dominated field. All the men (most of them older as well) look down on her because she is a young woman assuming, as the lyrics suggests, that she knows nothing. I might be crazy, but I feel like these first few lines some up some of the Lana we know and see throughout season two and her multiple appearances in other seasons as well.

“dorothea”

Hey Dorothea Do you ever stop and think about me? When we were younger Down in the park Honey, making a lark of the misery You got shiny friends since you left town A tiny screen's the only place I see you now And I got nothing but well wishes for ya

Dear reader, I propose to you this, the narrator talking about our Lana Winters. Specifically, I’m referring to Lana towards the end of season two where she has gotten fame from her book and her newfound fame goes to her head a little bit. The spin is that along with this she’s got a lover back home that wishes her well, but misses her, yearns for her if you will. So, we’re going to pretend there’s an AU where Lana’s got a lover back home and watches this all occur.

Cordelia Goode

“my tears ricochet”

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears

CORDELIA HAS BEEN DONE DIRTY BY QUITE A FEW PEOPLE IN HER LIFE. Sis has been done dirty by Fiona, Hank, and problem a few other people we don’t even know about. 

This song makes me think of a few different things with Cordelia. The Fiona aspect is 1) Fiona’s anger with Cordelia for being the Supreme instead of being happy and proud of her daughter and 2) Fiona’s overall poor treatment of Cordelia.

You could also interpret this as Cordelia’s awful relationship with good ol toxic Hank. Cordelia didn’t deserve the awful treatment from Hank and Fiona. Cordelia is trying to deal with all of this and she loved these people, but they treated her so poorly and in the end it’s going to come back and bite them in the end.

“tolerate it”

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid Use my best colors for your portrait Lay the table with the fancy shit And watch you tolerate it If it's all in my head, tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it

Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life Drawing hearts in the byline Always taking up too much space or time You assume I'm fine

This song HURTS me. You can interpret this song a few different ways, but the way I interpret it for Cordelia is to look at it as a mother/daughter relationship between her and Fiona.

As a child, Cordelia always wanted to impress her mother. Her mother was the Supreme after all, so she had a lot to live up to (makes me think of “Now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”). She’s giving it her all like the lyrics “Use my best colors for your portrait / Lay the table with the fancy shit.” The first line from the excerpt above also points to Cordelia still seeking this approval even now that she’s an adult. She does all of this for her mother, but in return her mother just merely tolerates it. It never seems like enough to impress her even though Cordelia is a successful and overall incredible woman. She always feels like she’s not enough, merely getting in the way (”Always taking up too much space or time”).

“ivy”

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed He's in the room Your opal eyes are all I wish to see He wants what's only yours

AU AU AU AU AU

Picture it: a historical au with a forbidden love between Lady Cordelia Goode and a normal working class gal, however, Cordelia has been promised to marry another, say Hank. Secret relationship ensues.

I have so many thoughts on this au

Bette and Dot Tattler

“seven”

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

This song just captures the innocence that I think fits Bette and Dot really well. It’s hard to find songs to fit these two, but I really think this one has their vibes.

“willow”

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in As if you were a mythical thing Like you were a trophy or a champion ring And there was one prize I'd cheat to win The more that you say The less I know Wherever you stray I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man

Like “seven,” this song captures the innocent, sweet vibes that these two have. This one adds to the hopeless romantic aspect that both Bette and Dot have as well.

Sally McKenna

“hoax”

This has broken me down My twisted knife My sleepless night My win-less fight This has frozen my ground

Stood on the cliffside Screaming, "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue But you No other sadness in the world would do 

Sally is a sad bitch. Poor girl has been heart broken and I elaborate on this next part more later. With her love, Sally doesn’t want to move on from that person since she believed they were the love of her life, however, now they’ve betrayed her and are gone and she’s alone once again.

“right where you left me”

Everybody moved on, I I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

Right where you left me You left me no Oh, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever You left me

AHHHH THIS IS A SALLY SONG! I’ve had this post in my drafts since evermore came out and I was worried I wouldn’t have much for Sally, but then this bonus track came out and I couldn’t not think of Sally when I listened to it.

This is another one of those songs that you can interpret literally or figuratively. In Sally’s case you could definitely interpret this as her being trapped as a literal ghost in the Cortez after her lover leaves her but you can also look at it in terms of Sally’s personality. In love, Sally seems like the person to hold onto someone long after they are gone and moved on. She loves hard, so it is extremely hard for her to move on. I think that if she found the person she believed was the right person and they ended up leaving her, she wouldn’t move on from them at all. She’d be holding on, waiting for them to come back even if they never do.

Audrey Tindall

“the 1″

But we were something, don't you think so? Roaring 20s, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true It would've been you In my defense, I have none For never leaving well enough alone But it would've been fun If you would've been the one

Audrey looking back on a love from another time. Basically I want all of the AUs. I wish I had more to say, but vibes.

“mirrorball”

And they called off the circus Burned the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

This song makes me think of Audrey having to be different versions of herself for everyone through her career path and being a celebrity because she wants so desperately for people to love her and everything she does. She loves the spotlight with “I’m still on that trapeze / I’m still trying everything / To keep you looking at me,” and she’s such a people pleaser that she’ll do anything to get people to continue to like her even if sometimes there’s nothing you can do (”And they called off the circus / Burned the disco down”). I come to this conclusion through Audrey’s insecurities about her age that we see in the second half of season six with her relationship with Rory. 

“champagne problems”

Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems

Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems

I’m not gonna lie, I don’t have a huge interpretation for this one. This kinda just makes me think of angsty au with Audrey.

“’tis the damn season”

So we could call it even You could call me babe for the weekend 'Tis the damn season, write this down I'm stayin' at my parents' house And the road not taken looks real good now And it always leads to you in my hometown

Out of everyone, Audrey is the person I picture going back to the ex for the holidays. She wants get cuffed for the holiday season even if it’s only for a little while.

“invisible string”

Green was the color of the grass Where I used to read at Centennial Park I used to think I would meet somebody there...

Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Audrey is definitely the type of person to believe in fate. To her everything happens for a reason and one day she’s going to find her soulmate. Overall, big Audrey Tindall vibes.

Ally Mayfair-Richards

“mad woman”

Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy What about that? And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry

And there's nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around And there's nothing like a mad woman

You cannot tell me that Ally did not ghost write this like damn this song screams Ally. This song is literally all about how society has a habit of gaslighting women and that’s exactly what happened to Ally for most of season seven. The entire season focused on Kai’s cult working to convince Ally that she’s going insane and when people wouldn’t believe the very real terror’s she was suffering from, it pushed her closer and closer to madness until she nearly breaks from it all.

“no body, no crime” feat. HAIM

Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen And I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me ("She was with me dude") Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

They think she did it but they just can't prove it They think she did it but they just can't prove it She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it No, no body, no crime I wasn't letting up until the day he died

We love a homicidal queen. Ally isn’t in SCUM for nothing. Also I’m pretty sure this is my favorite song from evermore because I’m in love with the vibes.

“marjorie”

Never be so polite, you forget your power Never wield such power, you forget to be polite

This bit of the song just makes me think of how Ally holds herself at the end of the season. It’s a simple, but still expresses the perfect message.

“closure”

It's been a long time And seeing the shape of your name Still spells out pain It wasn't right The way it all went down Looks like you know that now

Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better

ALLY DOESN’T NEED YOUR APOLOGY! SHE’S A BAD BITCH

Wilhemina Venable

“exile” feat. Bon Iver

All this time We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out  You never gave a warning sign 

All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around  'Cause you never gave a warning sign

For these lyrics I’m picturing Mina’s lover saying/thinking them. Mina isn’t used to love, so when she finally falls for someone and they reciprocate those feelings she gets scared. She shuts them out without any warning sign because she’s not sure how to handle all these intense feelings for this person.

“illicit affairs”

Make sure nobody sees you leave Hood over your head Keep your eyes down Tell your friends you're out for a run You'll be flushed when you return Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop What started in beautiful rooms Ends with meetings in parking lots

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings And longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

The connotation of these lyrics is everything in my interpretation of it with Wilhemina. The story line is similar to the song “ivy,” but the connotation of the affairs taking place is completely different. “ivy” is all about a forbidden but loving relationship, while “illicit affairs” has a more negative connotation to where the affair is tearing the person apart. This song makes me think of a secret relationship with Wilhemina where her lover wants something more than just a secret affair, but Wilhemina isn’t willing to open herself up enough for that. This affair turns into something that isn’t working well for the lover, but they want Wilhemina so much that they put up with whatever they can get.

Mildred Ratched

“happiness”

Honey, when I'm above the trees I see it for what it is But now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness You haven't met the new me yet And I think she'll give you that

I don’t have much in the interpretation department for this one, but this song does make me think of Mildred’s personality. This song has the vulnerability and a bit of bitterness that I feel like Mildred would have in a situation like this. I’m not exactly sure how to describe it but this makes me think of her outlook on love and heartbreak.

“evermore” feat. Bon Iver

I rewind the tape but all it does is pause On the very moment all was lost Sending signals To be double crossed

And I was catching my breath Barefoot in the wildest winter Catching my death And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar That this pain would be for Evermore

This girl has been “double crossed.” My woman Mildred has been done dirty. This makes me think of angsty Mildred getting betrayed by someone who she trusted in love. And I don’t it’s sad and I thought of some sad vibes with bb millie.

“epiphany”

With you, I serve With you, I fall down, down Watch you breathe in Watch you breathing out, out

Something med school did not cover Someone's daughter, someone's mother Holds your hand through plastic now "Doc, I think she's crashing out" And some things you just can't speak about

Nurse Mildred Ratched. That is all folks.

“gold rush”

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you

At dinner parties I call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town We wandered 'round had never Seen a love as pure as it And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause you know it could never be

Call me crazy BUT this song makes me think of Mildred. She’s the type of person that isn’t really comfortable with love. She doesn’t like to be vulnerable and this pushes her to be uncomfortable with little things like someone making her blush. Love is new to her.

She is also envious of the effect this person has on her and, in turn, the effect that person has on everyone else because they are so stunning. When they do get together it is the type of love that poetry is written about. Witty banter and fiery gazes but also the gentle caress of a hand while walking along the shore. 

This love is perfect in every way, but of course there must also be a level of angst to nearly all stories and the angst with this one is the fact that the time period Mildred is around in does not allow her to love her lover openly and freely. Overtime this might cause a strain on the relationship with the line “And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea / ‘Cause you know it could never be.” Her and her lover both know that society would condemn them for who they are.

Harriet Hayes

“peace”

'Cause there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Harriet is a big celebrity. She has paparazzi hounding her all the time and once she’s in a relationship they start hounding that person too. It’s a lot for a person and a relationship. Harriet can change that aspect of their relationship (”But the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me”), but she can provide her lover with as much love she can give. She will always try her best for the person she truly, truly loves her. There may be some bumps along the way (like the next song) but she will do her best and hopefully that’s enough for her lover because she can’t ever completely give them peace.

“this is me trying”

I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway

I just wanted you to know That this is me trying I just wanted you to know That this is me trying

They told me all of my cages were mental So I got wasted like all my potential And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad

The last line gives me hella Harriet vibes because I feel like when she’s angry she’s kind of blinded by it. She’s the type of person that says some really hurtful things that she doesn’t mean when she’s angry. 

Looking deeper, I get Harriet vibes from the beginning in the sense that Harriet is just trying to do the best that she can in a relationship, but it’s just not really working out. She has her career the “shiniest wheel,” however, now that’s slowing down and she’s lost on what to do with her relationships. She wants everything to work out like how she did so well so quick with her career, but everything isn’t working out like that.

[tlbodine]

How to Love Revision

A lot of you lovely folks are doing Nanowrimo right now. 

Which means that, in a few weeks, you will have a steaming pile of pages. A rough draft. A word-baby, if you will. And you might, at some point, want to turn that messy jumble into a real book, perhaps something to send to a publisher or publish yourself or just share with people. 

I see a lot of writing advice about finishing first drafts -- and a whole lot of it is in the vein of “Just write it! Fix it in post! Finished is better than perfect!” which is great advice for pushing through, but does tend to leave future-you -- the editor you-- with problems. 

Lucky for you, I happen to love editing (really! it’s my favorite part!) so I am here to give you some advice on how to turn those pages into a proper story without ripping all of your hair out or screaming into the void (but if you need to scream, it’s OK, I won’t judge you.) 

First Off: Credit Where It’s Due 

My current revision process draws heavily from Holly Lisle’s One-Pass Revision technique: https://hollylisle.com/one-pass-manuscript-revision-from-first-draft-to-last-in-one-cycle/

Her writing guides are golden, and I heartily recommend reading them all, starting with that one up there. 

I don’t do one-pass revisions, but her ethos really helped me. Before I found her advice, I would get caught in the endless revise/rewrite cycle. I was going through 9+ drafts of every story and it kept morphing into something new and sprouting new problems, hydra-style, every time I tried to redo it. So nothing was ever finished, nothing was ever satisfying, and I hated it. 

So I found a better way! And it freed me! I’ve written six books since then, four of them published (one Wattpad-exclusive) and I learned to look forward to the second draft. 

So how does this magic work? Let me show you! 

Step One: Put the Damn Thing Away 

Editing requires intellectual and emotional distance. So finish your story, and set it aside for a while. Stop thinking about it. Actively put it out of your mind. Work on something else for a while. Read a book. Catch up on all the TV you missed. Whatever. The point is -- you don’t want to come back to revise your story until you can look at it with fresh eyes. 

How long this will take depends on you, of course. It’s a very personal thing. It could be weeks. It could be months. For me, a good guideline is to wait until I can no longer quote whole passages from memory. 

Now then. Let’s do some triage. 

Before you can start editing, you need to know your goals. If you’re a planner, this might be easy because you have an outline you can compare against. If you’re a discovery writer like me, well, this is the time to figure out what exactly it is that you discovered. Grab a notebook (or a notepad file, if you’re a digital native) and follow this process: 

Write a one-sentence elevator pitch that roughly encapsulates the concept of the story. It doesn’t have to be pretty -- you’re not showing this to anyone but yourself -- but it does have to be honest. My one-sentence pitch for River of Souls was “Self-aware zombies struggle for equal rights, but the medication they rely on to retain their humanity doesn’t work as advertised.” My pitch for The Hound was “Lesbian thrift shop owners invite the devil into their home after buying a cursed taxidermied dog.” 

Write down your theme(s). In the draft, themes might take the form of questions. In this draft, you’ll want some answers. What do you want the reader to feel when they’re done? What is the message you’re trying to tell? When I wrote Nezumi’s Children, I knew it was a story about religion -- “What should we put our faith into?” In the end, I decided the answer was, “We should put our faith in each other.” That dictated the ending. (I also wanted to be careful not to inadvertently support abandoning your pets -- so I couldn’t let the rats be happily feral at the end. A happy ending for them meant being owned and cared for). 

Write a 250-word synopsis of the story. Again, it doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to introduce the characters, the world, and the general shape of the story arc -- the inciting incident, the escalating stakes, and how the character changed at the end. 

You may find that you struggle with this part, and that is totally find (and honestly to be expected). You may discover, for example, that your character doesn’t actually change, or that there isn’t a core conflict. That’s okay! That’s what you’re here to fix! I have absolutely, definitely written a book and then discovered 80,000 words later that it didn’t have a plot. It’s OK though, because you’ll fix that problem in the next step. 

If you do indeed have a plot and escalating stakes and characters who go through developmental arcs, you’re ahead of the game. Now you’ve got the skeleton of an elevator pitch and the makings of a query letter (or a jacket blurb). 

Next: Map Out Everything 

When I was in elementary school, I had to start writing my first essays. I was supposed to make an outline, then write the paper to follow the outline. I wasn’t very good at doing it that way, so instead I would write the paper, then hastily draw up the outline to match what I said. Oops. Nothing has changed, honestly. 

With your trusty notebook (or blank text document), compile the following: 

Write out a list of scenes. Just a couple words describing the events of what happens. Now - are all of those scenes necessary? Are any redundant? Do you need to add foreshadowing or establish something earlier in the story to make sense of it? Are the scenes in the wrong order? Does every scene do some work to advance the plot, deepen the character, flesh out the world? Does the ending resonate with the theme? Re-write the scene list in the correct order, with scenes added or removed as necessary to tell the proper story. Now your scene list is a handy dandy roadmap/outline for your revision! 

List out all of the characters in the story. Write down their role in the story. Does every major character have a goal? Do motivations make sense? Does each one change in some way during the story? Are all of your walk-on roles necessary? Are there characters who don’t really do much, and could you combine them?

Fixing plot holes on your scene list is a lot easier than fixing them in the manuscript itself. Keep tweaking your scenes until the story feels like it works. Make sure there’s a logical flow between events -- cause and effect, escalating stakes. Consult structure guides like the Hero’s Journey or the Three-Act Structure if you need some help with your plot. 

Here’s a part that’s really important so it’s going in all caps: THE SCENE LIST IS FINAL. Make all the adjustments you need to the plot while you do the scene list, but do not -- DO NOT -- deviate from the story once you move on to the next step. You don’t stop modifying your scene list until you’re happy with the story, and once you’re happy, THAT is the story you’re writing. Get new ideas for things that can happen? Great, save ‘em for the next book. 

Now Roll Your Sleeves Up And Get Dirty 

Some people like to print their manuscript off and do edits in pen, but I don’t have reliable printer access most of the time and hate wasting paper. So instead, I pull up the rough draft and adjust it so it takes up one half of my monitor. Then I pull up a fresh, empty file and put that on the other half of the screen. 

Now, using my scene list as a guide, I pull up the rough draft and rewrite it, scene by scene. Yes, that means re-typing every word. You’ll find that when you do this, you’ll fix a lot of language mistakes without even realizing it. I’m an under-writer, so my drafts usually double in length during this process because I spend more time lingering on sensory details, adding scenes, teasing out character dynamics, etc. etc. etc. Just let yourself go, get immersed into the scene. If you forget what you were doing, just refer back to your outline and original draft to get back on track. 

I find this process works best if you can do it quickly. Try not to let the story get cold. Ideally, work on this every single day, or even set aside a long weekend to just hammer it all out. 

Finally: Make a Second Pass 

Now that you’ve got a second draft under your belt, it’s time to celebrate! Set the book aside. If you have beta readers or an editor, now is the time to send this to them. Hang out for a bit. Figure out who you’re querying, if you’re doing that. Find a kick-ass cover, if you’re self-publishing. Build yourself a Lego mansion. Whatever. Just sit on your draft for a little bit. 

Now that a couple weeks have passed, it’s time to make a final pass. Gather all of the feedback you’ve gotten from beta readers and editors and decide what advice you should take and what you can ignore. Here’s a guideline: If someone says something and you think, “oh, yeah! that’s exactly it!” then you take the suggestion. If they say something and you think “uh, well, no, that’s not really the story I was trying to write....” or something similar, you can ignore the feedback. Good feedback will always feel true in the “duh, why didn’t I think of that” way. 

Open up your new draft and, starting at page one, just read the damn thing. Make adjustments to the writing as necessary: 

Correct any misspellings and typos you come across. 

Eliminate weak words and phrases and replace them with stronger ones. 

Add some variation to sentence structure if you notice that it’s become repetitive. 

Eliminate redundancy. Fix your metaphors. Fix your symbolism. Keep your poetic language on-theme. In The Hound, I replaced a ton of random metaphors with dog imagery. It’s subtle, but it lends thematic cohesion. 

Some people use things like Grammarly or Hemmingway App to help with this. I’ve never used them, so I can’t speak to their effectiveness. But if you find that they help, awesome! Use them! 

Here’s a really important point: This step can ONLY come AFTER the rewriting stage. There is no point at all in tweaking sentences and fixing up the language in a story that has no plot. Fix your structural issues FIRST, and be sure they are AIR TIGHT, before you start dicking around with the words. Ok? Ok. (Someone go back in time 15 years and tell this to young me please) 

And now...you are done! 

Spend some time tweaking your elevator pitch and query letter at this point, if necessary. But no matter what, you do not go back into this document and change ANYTHING unless an editor tells you to. The book is DONE. Maybe give it a final proofread before you self-publish it (but honestly, you’re better off hiring someone to do it at that point, you’re going to be too zorched to notice the typos you missed) but otherwise don’t touch it. Don’t think about it. Write the next book. 

And that’s it! That’s my mostly painless revision process! 

Obviously every person is different, your mileage may vary, etc. But I hope this serves as a helpful jumping off point. I am more than happy to answer any questions or provide clarification on things -- just drop me a line :) 

[tj-is-tired-blog]

"Dammit" (RDR2 X Reader Fluff Headcanon/Blurb/Thing?)

Hey there um I accidentally posted an unfinished ask instead of saving it as a draft because I'm a fool and I can't find it anymore but I remember almost exactly what it was so yeehaw

@crimsonredemption asked: "Hey hey hey hey can you do 'fell asleep on my shoulder' and 'carrying you to bed' with arthur or javier from rdr2 with a gender neutral reader?" (Or something along those lines)

Answer: Hell yeah bröther let's do both

-------------

Arthur:

What started off as a simple fishing trip turned into so much more. You started at around three in the afternoon. About one or two hours after you set up a fishing spot, you found what seemed to be a stray dog. The dog looked malnourished and weak, but he still had a light in his eyes looking like he was filled with hope. He kind of reminded you of Arthur.

"Hey Arthur I found a dog!" You shouted with glee. You were petting the dog with your eyes lit up with joy. Arthur chuckled at how child-like you can be.

"We have a dog at camp (Y/N). We don't need anymore smelly animals than we already have." Arthur put his pole down and walked over to you. You were treating the dog like he was your son. The cowboy, now sitting next to you, was having fun watching you try to care for the dog.

"C'mon look at him! He looks like you but as a dog! Dog Arthur... Darthur!" The dog barked at you when you said the dumb name.

"Awe is that your name? Darthur, you're such a good bo a h." You said trying to imitate Arthur's soft spot for dogs. He was just laughing at how stupid the whole situation is.

"(Y/N) let's getchu' home." You looked at him with a pouty face and tried to fake cry.

"But the d o g." He shook his head and smiled.

"You're tired, c'mon. Get yer stuff." You frowned complied, stomping over to where you left your pole and bag o' fish. The dog followed you and you smiled widely

"I've been chosen!" You shrieked to the world. You looked over at Arthur only to see him loading his stuff on his horse, trying to hold in a laugh. He shook his head and broke. The cowboy, who rarely shows emotion of joy, was laughing a hard laugh. You smiled at this. Someone made tough man Arthur™ laugh and it was because of a dumb lil' doggy.

"Lessgo'." He said between laughs. You picked up the dog, disregarding Arthur saying they don't need anymore pets, and mounted your horse.

"Put the dog back-"

"But Arthurrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..." Arthur just smiled and rolled his eyes. The whole trip back you two were just cracking jokes and making sarcastic remarks. You checked on the dog every now and then, as it was slightly uncomfortable to ride on a small saddle with a larte-ish dog. When you did get to the camp it was about six o'clock at night and everyone was eating their dinner. You hitched your horses and you went to get a bowl of stew for the dog, and for your dinner.

"Now what in the hell is that." Micah, not really asking but demanding™, said, pointing to the dog.

"That is my new dog, and if you get anywhere near him I'll cut your eye out." You smiled sweetly, and continued to try and cool down the stew on the way to Arthur's tent. While waiting at his tent you were 'reading' a book you stole from Dutch. You were really doodling on all of the pages until it was unreadable. Then a certain yeehaw-man that you've spent your whole day with walked over.

"Why are you in my tent?" He looked genuinely confused.

"I can't leave evidence." You simply stated. Arthur huffed and looked at the page you were doodling on.

"Wait... Isn't that Dutch's favorite book?"

"Who knows at this point, you can't read it. Even the title isn't visible." You said snickering. Not once did you look up through the whole conversation. You just continued 'reading'. Big baby boy Arthur sat on the cot and you just kind of cuddled next to him. It felt natural.

"Where's your dog, (Y/N)?" You shot up and looked to where Micah was. Your sweet doggo wasn't there, so that's good. After a fierce whistle there was a bark, and both Cain and the stray walked over. You started making baby noises and pet the dogs. After your cute little dog fit, you closed the book with the pencil in it, and hid them in the wagon next to Arthur's tent.

"Why do you put it by me?" He whisper yelled.

"I can't be the one who gets caught. I'm the favorite." You added sarcasm to the last bit and flopped next to Arthur.

"You might be the strangest person I've ever met." He mumbled.

"Yeah, I know." You yawned out.

The next hour was just you two telling stories about your childhood. It was mildly emotional because you two just wished you could go back. Everything was less chaotic back then. You laid your head on Arthur's shoulder while telling about the past and slowly dozed off. Arthur was rambling and venting so he didn't notice you were asleep for a good while. When he eventually did figure it out, he just kind of stared in awe. He's never seen you so peaceful. You only had three emotions. Angry, sarcastic, and dog. Nothing more, nothing less.

He sighed and tried to pick you up. He struggled a little because not only was he tired and sore, he was trying to be gentle. It doesn't happen often because Arthur, being the big beautiful idiotic brute he is, thinks he's only good for destruction. But as we all know, that's a fat lie. Arthur carefully carried you back to your tent and got a few smart remarks from some of the gang members that were still up. He shot them glares and they shut up quickly.

When Arthur got to your tent he was trying to figure up how to set you down. He eventually figured it out after like six minutes. Arthur looked at you and you shivered a little bit. He looked around for extra blankets.

"Dammit..." Arthur laid down and cuddled you. You smiled in your sleep. He was like a big teddy bear.

You woke up with a start in the morning and you had no idea where you were.

"What the..." You looked around mildly panicking and found a note. You recognized the neat handwriting.

"I brought you here don't worry. You didn't get... Y'know." You looked over at Arthur chopping logs. He grinned quickly before getting back to his work.

--

Javier:

"Hey, Earth to (Y/N)!" You jumped and looked to your left. It was none other than Javier Escuella. He stifled a laugh due to your sudden reaction. You have a tendancy to daydream on guard duty, and now that it was getting later in the evening, you were dozing off every now and then.

"Huh? What? Who?" You yelled out aiming your rifle wherever you could. Javier sure did get a kick out of that. You just grumbled and sat down near a tree.

"Come on amigo, switch off with someone and get dinner. You haven't eaten all day." Javier stated, carving a piece of wood.

"Go trade with uh... Bill or Sean! Those two don't need sleep." You chuckled.

"Nah, I'm okay. Thanks for being concerned, I guess." You looked up at Javier, who yawned and slightly cut his finger with the knife.

"Gah! Mierda!" You shot up from whatever daze you were in, and immediately rushed over to Javier. He was probably being over-dramatic, as it was only a papercut, but you were still concerned.

"Hey wow, are you okay?" You gently held his hand and poured some water from your flask onto it.

"No, it really hurts..." He wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling the truth. It stung a little, but that was the only pain he felt from the small cut.

"Do you need a bandage I-" Javier cut you off.

"You can make it feel better with a kiss~" Javier purred out. You just groaned and threw his hand to the side. Always with the flirting. To be fair you should've expected it. He's almost never irresponsible when carving, or just handling a knife in general. Keyword: Almost.

"You're so stupid." You rolled your eyes jokingly and grabbed your stuff, walking back to your tent.

"Ah mi amor! Come back I miss you!" He laughed. You just scoffed and set your stuff back in your tent. Then you walked over to the campfire. Sitting at the campfire made you doze off again. However, you jolted awake at any sudden noise, trying to make it look like you weren't sleeping. Everyone noticed.

"How come you never go to bed (Y/N)? You always end up sleeping somewhere else." Charles asked carefully.

"Uh... I dunno. Paranoia maybe?" You shrugged and looked toward Charles' direction.

"It's because they always want to cuddle with the Mexican!" Bill mocked. You stood up and stomped over to him. He shrunk back in his seat and you grabbed his collar.

"Say something like that again, and I'll shoot you." You let go and walked to your horse. Little did you know, Javier was watching in the distance. He grimaced at Bill and went to go tell him off. You, however, went to go by the river and camp out for the night. Javier know this, as it was the spot you go to when you get mad.

"Stupid Bill, dumb camp, idiot people..." you mumbled on and on, leading your horse around the river. You grumbled and sat down on a rock.

"(Y/N)..." You whipped your head around and saw Javier. He had a soft, concerned smile on his face.

"Hey." You grumbled, hugging your knees. Javier dismounted his horse and walked over.

"I know you don't want to talk about it..." Javier said softly.

"It's fine. What's up with your eye." Javier beamed and put an arm around your shoulder.

"I knocked out the fucker." You just giggled and laid your head on his shoulder.

"Of course you did." You trailed off, cuddling into Javier's arm. You two sat in a peaceful silence until there was soft snoring from you. Javier looked down and smiled, admiring your features.

"Mi amor..." he mumbled. Javier cuddled you and eventually dozed off himself. You both had a rough night.

In the morning you woke up next to Javier in his tent. He was passed out cold, and snored loudly. You smiled and gave him a kiss on his forehead. Ever so slightly, you could see a grin on his face.

"Damn he's cute..."

-------------

UghHHHHH THIS TOOK FOREVER I'M SO SORRY! It's also a little longer and repetitive than I wanted it to be, but it was kinda fun writing it

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello Aurette and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for letting us get to know you a little better.

I'm deeply honoured to be asked.

A true titan in the world of SS/HG fic, many of our readers will have broken their hearts over your story The Tattered Man.

Okay, let’s jump right in.

What's the story behind your pen name?

Honestly, it was a whim. Long before I thought of writing, I needed a login name to read fanfic. It was a play on Auror. I had no idea it was an actual name.

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Hands down, Snape. I know that might sound strange, but he was the one that clicked. My niece introduced me to the books. Being in my 30s at the time, I already had kids of my own, so I didn't identify as one of the students. I loved Harry from the start but he had this uncanny ability to keep being wrong about nearly everything. The character who best expressed adult annoyance with that was Snape. And I do love a good jerk. Snape was a jerk.

Do you have a favourite genre to read? 

I'm a sucker for fantasy and science fiction. I hated reading as a child. All there was available when I was a kid was Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys and it was insipid. I glommed on to mythology early but once I'd read all the books in my library on the subject, I gave up reading at all. That was about 4th grade. Children's books in the 70s were total garbage and YA books only had one author: Judy Bloom.

Ironically, my first job was working in a bookstore. It was a college bookstore, so it was all textbooks. I wasn't even a student, so I had no interest in any of them. One semester. A Lit prof assigned Fahrenheit 451. The cover art caught my eye and I read the blurb. Then started reading the book. I finished it in about 5hrs. It blew my mind. I had no idea writing like that existed. And the book was about someone discovering the value of books. It was intellectual Inception waaaaay before that was a thing.

After that, it was like a switch flipped in my head. I sucked up books air. I was never without a book or two. Or three...

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

Obviously Fahrenheit 451. I'm going to go ahead and say Les Miserables as well. I was in my 30s when I finally read it and sobbed like a baby at the ending. The care and tenderness Hugo showed when portraying these disposable lives were so unique for that age. Sadly, even today. A lot of our culture is wrapped around the belief that only the wealthy have value and beauty is a pathway to wealth. The poor and ugly are a constant plague to be shunned or dealt with, not humans with crushed dreams that deserve to be valued in their own right. Look at how often fanfic recreatesSnape as handsome or Hermione as gorgeous. Those are always the least interesting stories. (hops off soapbox)

At what age did you start writing?

Whatever age I was when I wrote Safe House. Probably 40ish? That terrible little fanfic is literally the first thing I ever wrote beyond shopping lists and emails. It's an ugly child, but my first, so I love its pointy head. I intentionally leave it up so new writers can see my learning curve. No one starts out good. Read my stories in reverse chronological order and you'll see they get a little worse each time. That's how much I grew as I learned the craft.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Reading tons of it. I was at a total loss after the book Deathly Hallows came out and it was all over. Reading it had become an event in my house. My husband and I would snatch the book out of each other's hands "You've had it long enough. My turn." And then there were no more...

I couldn't even tell you how I found fanfic, but it kept me sane. I keyed in on SS/HG because at the time there was a noticeable difference in the talent level in that ship. I must have read SS/HG fanfic for a solid 2 yrs before I took a leap and wrote my own. I was inspired by the amazing stories, but also by the crappy ones.  "Heck, I could do better" became its own form of allowance. So I had a small 'what if' and just went for it. Of course, it was crap, everyone's first is. But taking the leap and writing it was a huge thing for me to have done.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

I'm a sucker for a story where characters overcome emotional adversity, both external and internal. If you squint. You'll see that theme repeated throughout my fics.

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

None. Nothing else ever grabbed me as a sandbox I wanted to play in before or after HP.

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

Gosh, I don't think I would change a thing about JK Rowling's work. Things I would change would only be me forcing her story to fit my preferred ideal. However, if you think about it, her world, the good and the bad,  challenged all of us to churn out 100,000+ what ifs. Some out of anger. Heh.

As for fav piece of fanon, probably that Malfoy jr was Snape's godson. He's totally not, but whoever started that created a great layering of the dynamic between them that you can share in so many tones.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?  

I was a stay-at-home mom when I was writing most of my fanfics, so I wrote in a chaotic and very noisy environment. I didn't listen to music when I wrote, but music was often the inspiration. When I would get stuck in writing, I would leave it and go listen to music that was emotionally similar to where I wanted the story to be while I thrashed out plot points. Colossus by Afro Celt Sound System is amazing for plotting a prelude to a battle.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

Gosh, there are so many. Sadly, many of the authors who first inspired me are gone and pulled their fics off the web, like my fanfic bestie Dressagegrrrl. I would have to call out Pet Project by Caeria as the one I found most inspiring.  Anything by ApolloniaV is pretty high up there in my book. There are dozens I'm forgetting. There was one called Resurrection Man about Snape accidentally creating a hilarious Zombie apocalypse. Best. Fic. Ever. It disappeared from the web when the author moved on. An incredible loss.

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

Total pantser. The obvious effect is to drive the story right off a cliff and be unable to salvage it. It's why I vowed to never start posting until I had a rough draft ending. Too many dead stories waiting for an ending that never came. But an outline for me is a killer in disguise. I lose interest in telling the tale because I already did in the outline. The fun part is over. Sitting at a keyboard typing your fingers off, while muttering, "What the hell are these people doing? Who's writing this stuff?!" is an amazing experience.

What is your writing genre of choice?

In fanfic, I ran with every genre there was. Mostly I wanted to see if there was one I couldn't tackle.  Most of my o-fic is a hard-to-define mishmash of fantasy and sci-fi. I want to write romance, but it always turns into something complicated and angsty that no longer fits the box.

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

The Tattered Man.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote?

It came off exactly as I'd planned in my head. A rare occurrence for me.

What did you learn from writing it?

I could make people cry with my words. Up to that point, I'd made readers laugh and yell and blush, but to get a reader to the point of actually weeping? That's not easy. JK Rowling did it with ease. It was a challenge.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

It's very personal. My father had just died.  He'd had cancer, and it might have got him in the end, but what actually killed him was being sent home with a feeding tube and the wrong instructions. None of the homecare nurses realized the mistake until his kidneys shut down. It was devastating. When I next took up writing, I was still hurting so I tried to make others feel what I felt at a death that didn't have to be. It was crazy easy to write. I wrote it all in one day. Based on the reviews, I achieved my goal. It helped me work through my loss. Pretty sure I gave a few readers PTSD. My bad.

What books or authors have influenced you?

My all-time favourite book is Iain M. Banks' Use of Weapons. Definitely a classic among the eighteen people in the United States that read it. The man was a shockingly gifted author and I was devastated when he passed away. His ability to just drop you into the action from the first page and not bother to explain what's going on is sadistic genius.

How do you think that shows in your writing?

It led to my belief that a writer is always better when they assume their readers are smart. Grab their interest and just run. They'll catch on and even pass you with their theories of what's going to happen next. I've no patience with stories that spell out everything in minute detail. They're tedious and insulting. Less really is more. On the other hand, writing over your reader's head is just as annoying. Intentionally using obscure SAT words in your story just makes you a pretentious twat. Unless your character is a pretentious twat and it's part of the dialogue.  In that case, twat away. *gigglesnort*

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

My family all knew. They were tremendously supportive. Especially Mr. Aurette, my personal Snape. Outside of my family, I was less forthcoming. Mostly because it was so crazy hard to explain. I think it's a lot less weird now, but back then? It was far more stigmatized.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"?

That's a hard one. For someone who'd never tried to write a story before, it was an amazing journey to realise what I could do. That changed me forever. Having the instant feedback of reviews was intrinsic to that experience. The downside is you can get sucked into writing for reviewers, and they will tell you clearly what they want and expect.  That can stifle. I knew no one wanted The Tattered Man to end the way it did. I was pretty terrified of the reaction. But it's what I wanted. It was the entire point. I wrote that ending for myself, but I cowered after posting.

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

I absolutely loved interacting with my readers. I made some real-life friends and some really great fic buddies all over the world. I watched them become friends in reviews too. It was a really great experience. Spam-posting a fic would often take on a festival atmosphere. Unfortunately, when my review count started to really take off, I couldn't cope with the sheer numbers the same way. There weren't enough hours on the day to reply to everyone. Trying to personalize my response to a review grew overwhelming. I actually grew quite depressed over it. Connecting on a more removed, professional level seemed cold. I connected the most on Livejournal when that was a thing. But I had to back off. "Aurette" became far more witty and wonderful than I was in real life. Everyone wanted a piece of her. I couldn't keep up with the bitch. Lol.  I faded away from most interactions on social media out of self-preservation. Even tiny fame can make you whacko.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

There's a few that come to mind.

1-If you want to be a better writer, kill every adverb you come across.

2-Read your words out loud to yourself. If you run out of breath, your reader will run out of patience at that exact point.

3-Dressagegrrrl was the one that finally made me see how playing POV ping pong within a scene was something that marked my writing as an amateur.

4-Stop trying to be clever. Be clever, if you are clever, but don't try. It comes off hamfisted every time. Readers hate that.

5-Never, ever, ever post something you wrote that day. You've left half of it in your head and you can't tell. It's awful.

6-If you're not even a little embarrassed by something you wrote 6 months ago, you're no longer growing as a writer.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

That's a bit of a sticking point. Stress is a muse-killer. Anything you can do to rid yourself of stress will help. Writer's block is usually the result of something going on elsewhere in your life. Fix that and the creativity will come back.

That said, my life has turned into constant stress with the result being I no longer write at all.

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Everything has. 'Write what you know' is true for fantasy too. Whether it's heartbreak, or a drunken hookup that turned into love (Hello, Mr. Aurette) or a moment when you were a child and ignored or teased, or maybe the bully, all of it makes it's way into the emotional truth of a scene or character, no matter how outlandish the setting.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

I have a Dropbox full of stories I've run into the wall or had to leave half finished, both fanfic and o-fic. No teasers, because at this point I don't think they will ever see the light of day. Never say never, but the light of hope is dim.

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Anyone can write and everyone has something to say. Be open to the process. Part of that process involves having a stranger tell you that your shiny new love is really shit. Being defensive only prolongs your shittiness. Embrace criticism. Sometimes,  the process of justifying something can actually buttress your choice, so you double down with better results. Other times, you'll see your idea wasn't working after all. Be ruthless in your editing, but don't delete. That scene you cut because it caused everything to go off the rails could be a different story trying to get out. Take that leap, you fail at everything you don't try, so why not try something you really want?

Thanks so much for giving us your time.

It's been my pleasure.  Thank you for the opportunity.  *waves to my readers*

[dxmedstudent]

Dx’s Dating Tips #3 -The Profile

This post is about profiles as a whole - the bits and bobs that may not necessarily be in your blurb. Funnily enough, I started these posts months and months ago when I was still actively on those sites. Guess it took me a long time to hit my drafts and publish them, but I think it’s still useful.

 Fill in the most useful fields, but don’t wory about listing every minute detail. Some dating sites really seem to go into incredible detail, because data is currency for them. But think carefully about how much information you are putting into your profile, and whether it’s going to look overwhelming and cluttering and hard to read. For example, you can put your hobbies, but stick to things that are most important to you, rather than something you tried, once. But this also means you really should spend some time making your profile actually complete and worthy of being read.

And yes, this also means try not to overstate how much you do things. If someone decided to date you because they thought you liked rock climbing as much as they do, they’ll probably be pretty bummed when they discover you tried it once, took a selfie, then hated it and would never want to try again. Being genuine about what you enjoy is key to finding people with similar interests or people who will respect you for yours. 

It also means don’t understate things you do, either. If you smoke and drink, own it. Both those things might be dealbreakers for a lot of people, but you need someone who is compatible to you. For example, lots of people who like to go out drinking want partners who will share that experience with them, whereas people who don’t enjoy that particular pursuit might not want to spend all their dates being dragged round a club with their new SO and their friends whilst they all get plastered. Personally, I’m happy that the guy I’m seeing also doesn’t drink much, and doesn’t smoke; both would be dealbreakers for me, and equally, I wouldn’t want to feel like the ‘stick in the mud’ partner who doesn’t have fun. So I looked for someone with a similar definition of ‘fun’ to me.  I heard of couples where one partner pretended not to smoke for the longest time because they knew their SO didn’t want to date a smoker, and I just found that to be such a sad deceit. Give prospective partners an honest chance to see if you are for them. I was quite open early on about my shifts, and my current sightly nomadic lifestyle in medicine; I talk quite a bit about work when dating, it turns out! Really, I want anyone who dates me to know what they are getting into; I don’t want them to feel tricked. Anyhow, despite all my talking about death and medicine, and having less than ideal timetables it seems I can’t put everyone off, and I’m truly honoured to have met someone for whom those parts of my life are part of the deal.

Be honest about your attributes, including things like your body type and height. Yes, it’s  silly if someone will only date men over 6ft or women under 80kg, but nevertheless, you’ll want to look for people who will love you for who you are, rather than resent people for wanting something else. It’s pointless to argue with people about what they have decided are their preferences. So many men obscure their height on dating sites because they fear women won’t date a short man, and really tall guys say that women only really want a man who’s somewhere between 5ft 9 and 6ft 2 or so - above or below that, apparently people get put off. But if a woman’s that judgemental they’ll just probably get dumped after the first date, so ultimately lying is still pointless. I personally didn’t care about height at all; some people I met didn’t list their height at all and it didn’t faze me (yep, they were short, no, that’s not the reason there wasn’t a second date). But I think people being honest about their height, particularly if they are pretty short, or pretty tall, is a pretty brave, confident thing to do. You deserve someone who accepts and loves you for whoever you are.

This also includes things like whether you’ve been married or have kids by a previous relationship. Again, if someone isn’t prepared to deal with that, then they aren’t right for you. These are the kinds of things that work best if gotten out of the way early on, because the later you leave revealing big things like this, the more people will feel like important things are being concealed from them. This also means being honest early on (I’d say during messages or around the first or second date) if you’ve just recently come out of a breakup; be prepared that other people might want to take it slow because they aren’t sure if you still have a lot of issues from your last relationship, or they might want to wait until you have taken some time to think and heal after your breakup. For example, one guy mentioned his ex turning up uninvited to events during messaging. He effectively invited me to join his gaming group on a date, having told me that his ex still plays with his gaming group. Now, if I’m dating someone yes, I’d love to meet their friends after a while, but intitially you just want to get to know a person by themselves. I don’t want high romance, but I don’t really want to turn into ‘one of the boys’ after the second date, either.  And no, I don’t want to meet their very recent ex at these get togethers, nor do I want to replace her in his gaming group that soon; it all came across as likely to cause drama and hurt to everyone. I thought he would make a genuinely good friend, if I had the time to pick up new friends but I couldn’t see it leading to anything more. He agreed that he still had things to process, and I really hope that he has taken that time, and found that space and that he meets someone lovely.  A few guys confided in me that they’d only recently got into dating after long breaks from dating or after a breakup and I don’t think it makes you less dateable, as long as you can make it clear that you are now ready to date and are serious about it, and have gotten to the point where it won’t massively hamper your current dating. Alternatively, if all you want to do is dip your feet in, and you don’t want anything serious then it’s good to be honest about that too; because there are lots of people who are happy with that.

If you’re in an open relationship, be honest. And no, it’s not an open relationship unless your current partner is aware and OK with you seeing other people, and all prospective new interests are also aware of the situation. Keeping anyone in equation in the dark is wrong. Yes, that might eliminate a lot of people, since a lot of people aren’t into that, but lying is not cool, and implicating people in things that would make them uncomfortable is also wrong. Be warned that if you have no photo, or have really blurry obscured photos, everyone is going to assume that you’re either cheating or on the run from the police. I came across one profile where the only picture was the dude in a literal balaclava. I don’t know how he thought he’d attract a woman with a photo that reveals none of his face, but who knows, maybe he got lucky.

 Don’t lie about things like whether you want to get married, have kids etc. This is where acting in good faith comes in; tell people the truth, not what you think they want to hear. You need to find people who will want the same things as you, and people can’t do that if nobody is honest. Now, this is the real world, and a lot of people can’t necessarily fit their feelings into a neat ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer to those questions. If you aren’t sure, it’s OK to be honest about that; many people just want to see where things go, and that’s perfectly fine. Some people like the idea of these things, but really want to focus on meeting someone right first. Others are pretty sure that they want to be married in like, 2 years, tops, with a kid on the way. Personally, people who are super-keen to marry or have kids soon kind of scare me a little, even though I want those things, because I very much want to take things at whatever pace things come, so I struggled to know exactly how to put that across in my profile. Lying also makes things more difficult for everyone. Some people want casual relationships, but struggle to find others who are open about it. Meanwhile, lots of people who really just want casual setups (and mainly, well, sex) absolutely pretend that they are interested in much more, because they think people won’t give them a chance if they don’t go through the performance of pretending to eventually want a relationship. The thing to remember about people who lie is that it’s easy to promise the world if you have no intention of delivering. So it’s worth bearing in mind that if someone is talking about marriage and kids on like date 3, they might be very, very keen, or they might just be counting on the fact that’s what you want to hear. I wish I could tell you it was easy to tell the two apart. Having seen enough people get hurt by people who claimed to want one thing, but clearly wanted another, I have a hard time trusting what people write in these particular boxes until you really get to know a person.

I don’t think stating how much you earn is important, in fact, I wouldn’t. If you earn a lot of money, the last thing you want is someone who’s sought you out just because they thought you were rich. And yet, a lot of guys post pics next to shiny cars, mention how much their brand new house cost, and write about their summer homes and salary. Some of them even write explicitly that they aren’t into uh... people who are trying to take advantage of that. But that’s no use if your profile just reads like one long advert about how wealthy you are. I don’t know why people who are wealthy often feel they have to make it obvious, but it’s really not necessary. If you want someone to love you for who you are, not your money, then don’t hide behind your wealth, or use it as bait to attract people.  If you emphasise only what you bring financially, you will attract people who value you only for that. The easiest way to avoid that is just to be discreet.  I didn’t mention what I do or what I earn explicitly in my profile at all; only that I work in healthcare. I love and respect my nurses and physios; any man who’d date a doctor but not a nurse isn’t someone I want in my life.I’d never lie about what I do, but I didn’t think there was anything to be gained by boasting about it. I want someone to date me and find it cool that I happen to be a doctor, rather than someone to be dating me because they think doctors are smart, or rich or the kind of girl their parents want etc.

If you’re really stuck, I’d say that it’s a good idea to take a look at the profiles of people of your gender, to see what other people do, and work out which cliches to avoid. Looking at other profles  of any gender can be a great way to see the difference between an interesting profile and a dull one. You’ll find that the more you look at profiles and date, the more you’ll build an idea of what you like (and want) and what you really don’t.  I started out fairly neutral and doing my best to be forgiving, but  found that I gained strong opinions on what makes a good profile after perusing so many of them.