#my atwd fanfic

[batri-jopa]

Fanart of And Then We Danced / და ჩვენ ვიცეკვეთ (2019) dir. Levan Akin

...or more a "fantasy over"? Like, you know, when "what if..." (Irakli did not kick Merab out of his room) was followed by "and then...", like a possible continuation of my little fic or... Whatever - just enjoy it!😅

I don't really think humping in their jeans would let them feel any less awkward afterwards than their actual first time in the film but at least they'd be more comfortable on the bed

[morulezopelforever]

El Sopo & Friends - Dancing and Partying in Tbilisi

Here are some tidbits from my new ATWD fanfic, which is part of a series but which can be read as an individual story as well. It involves trick-or-treating at Halloween, a party at Sopo's restaurant (El Sopo, the only Tex-Mex eatery in the Caucasus) and some unexpected romantic enhancement for Merab, Mary and Irakli!

A Halloween charity run.

When they were back on the pavement Irakli, Merab and Ninutsa lit cigarettes and checked Sopo’s goodie bag. It was fairly full after dozens of visits at various houses. Most people had given dinner leftovers. ‘The boiled potatoes and the khinkali are all smushed,’ Sopo grumbled. ‘And they gave us gravy, too, without a Tupperware box…Yuck, those chocolates are fucked. It smells revolting.’

Aleko was the treasurer. He counted the pecuniary donations. ‘Five euros, seventeen lari and six hundred Austrian shillings.’ He frowned. ‘Oh damn, those are worthless. The currency was abolished over twenty years ago. But still, people give from the goodness of their hearts and we should all be grateful.’

Sopo flung the bag onto the pavement and trampled on it with her Mexican boots. ‘It’s nothing, bloody nothing!’ she growled. ‘Makes me wonder why I bothered to come along.’

Merab smiled at her. She had recently quit smoking and had been in a continuous state of PMS ever since, as David put it. But she smiled back at Merab. It’s because I’m looking so cute in my old corduroy coat and the tartan cap, he thought.

He had Doggie with him on a leash. She was wearing a pumpkin costume that looked absolutely adorable on her. It had earned her some dog treats from nice people earlier on. It was a pity that Sopo had devoured them. Now that Sopo no longer smoked she had the most outrageous food cravings.

****

Sopo is throwing a costume party dressed as Madame de Pompadour. Pity her friends aren't.

The environment and its first visitors where looking pleasant. David had shaved his upper lip and his chin clean, leaving only hair on his cheeks. He had donned a top hat, a black suit with a white collar and a cloak. Nino was dressed as a chimney sweeper with a cardboard ladder and a brush on a string attached to her jacket. She was a luck charm.

Mary was very Victorian. Her hair was parted and braided into buns over her ears. The plainness of her black dress suggested grateful servitude. Dear Mary. She had graduated with a master diploma from London Uni a few weeks ago, but she had come home for good and she did not like it. Her boyfriend Stanley was still in England. Sopo’s heart ached for her.

The ache turned into ire when Irakli entered the room from the kitchen. He had been working at his (her) pub next door and never bothered to change into fancy dress. In his wake was a yellow something – yes, something.

‘Why are you wearing an Ajax Amsterdam shirt?’ she snapped at him. ‘They plummeted in the Dutch National League last year. You’re supposed to look extravagant tonight, not embarrassing.’

Irakli shied away wordlessly, and then the yellow something stepped forward and kissed her exuberantly, nearly causing her to lose her wig. ‘Happy birthday, Sopo!’ he piped.

‘Merab, why the eff are you wearing a Pikachu suit?’ she fumed.

He shrugged. ‘Akh, the rental agency was all but cleaned out by the other guests. They only had this thing left, apart from Playboy bunny or dictator costumes.’

When Aleko walked in she lost it. He was wearing a chokha over a plain shirt and press-fold trousers, no fancy dress, just traditional Georgian garb. He must be getting senile.

‘Happy birthday!’ he said to her. ‘What a nice party this is…Oh hello Merab, hello Irakli!’

Her madness now took over. ‘Bow down and pay your respect to Madame de Sopodour!’ she shrieked at the three freaks. ‘Bow down and acknowledge my superior being!’

They obeyed and sank onto their knees before her. Merab instantly assumed the role of the poor citizen. ‘But milady, how could we? We can’t even afford bread! Akh, have mercy!’

‘If you can’t buy bread, have khachapuri,’ she snarled. ‘And begone, or else my faithful valet shall slay you!’

***

David is sorting out some clean washing.

David was sitting on a bench outside the kitchen porch of the restaurant with a large basket of washing beside him. When he heard the clicking of Irakli’s leather soles, he looked up with a bleary gaze. Irakli felt a pang of guilt, but he was going to make good for this morning’s success, so he clutched his gift bag and sat down on the bench. The basket was between them, creating a certain distance as had been custom ever since the pandemic, but he was still close enough to elicit a grumbled greeting from the other man.

‘Bro, you smell like a duty-free airport perfumery.’

Irakli sensed David’s unintentional hostility, fished a pack of Astras out of the bag and offered him a cigarette as a token of reconciliation.

They both lit up, blew out smoke and stared at the mess in the courtyard.

‘I-rak-li…!’ a venomous, high-pitched voice sounded from the flat over Mr. Beerakli’s Pub. ‘Did I tell you that you could take my car this morning to drop off Aleko at the airport and to meet your idiotic business partners? I didn’t, did I?’

‘It’s O.K., Merab, I’m only having a smoke with your brother!’ Irakli roared back. ‘I’ll be up in a sec.’

Merab now leaned over the railing of the veranda on the first floor. He was dressed in faded house clothes and wearing an old rag on his head like a bandanna. In his right hand he held a mop as if it were a spear. He looked at Irakli and David and then at his Mercedes, snorted and went back inside.

‘Merab has continuously suffered from PMS ever since he quit smoking,’ David observed. ‘I never knew that men could be like this…’ He sighed. ‘Well, Sopo has kicked the habit as well, and she’s in no better state, but it’s different with women.’

Irakli nodded, too confused to speak. He had been with women, he knew how they were, but all this had turned into a parallel universe ever since he had been in love with Merab. Love was supposed to be a ride in the sky, a fun fair of joy and bliss, but in Tbilisi, or rather in this little realm that was completely owned and ruled by Sopo, it was overtaken by everyday life, and everyday life in modern Tbilisi meant that men not only suffered when their lovers were doing major cleaning, but were also expected to help with household chores.

[notasapleasure]

Fanfic ask meme: I am asking ALL the ones you haven't done yet! YES ALL

ohmygod ok, ok? thanks? Sorry? [fanfic ask meme]

Do you listen to music when you write? If yes, what kind?

My automatic response is yes, I need music ALWAYS or some kind of noise around me.* But I do write a lot on my notes app on my phone which often means I'm not really paying that much attention to the ambient noise. However I will always have some kind of playlist for characters/wips, and often that will involve a specific artist or album that fits the vibe and kind of becomes the default background noise - when I want music that Fits without being distracting the best thing is an album I've listened to to death already. For Only Ever Just One Night it was Jon Boden's Afterglow, which I hadn't listened to for ages, and right now it's a lot of early Elvis Costello and Springsteen. Usually I tend to...match what I want to listen to anyway to the fic and characters, but obviously with the Lymond band AU (@theartistknownaslymond) I worked on playlists first and then listened to them when I needed to capture the right feeling for the characters.

*The one noise I Cannot Work Through is the dog whining. He loves the sound of his own voice and has perfected the 'woe is me pay attention to me' whine that just. Cuts right through thought like the proverbial hot knife through butter.

2. Do you have a trusted beta reader?

For my epic And Then We Danced fic, @erinaceina very generously read and betaed EVERYTHING. For the.... crunchier parts of the band AU I know I can always send stuff to @stripedroseandsketchpads first before posting live. And Kay will even read most SW drafts when I'm mired in self-doubt and loathing! :') (clowned myself by writing one of her squicks into the current wip though, so it's just me and the endless possibilities rn)

But generally We Die Like Men. It's not that I don't want a beta reader for the other fics, it's just I've never bothered going to look for one. Usually I don't write things with enough plot to worry. I don't know how I got through my old Cassian/Jyn longfic on my own tbh, no cheerleader, no beta! Loyal readers were very ready to point out flimsy aspects of the plot :') so having learned from that I would definitely get a beta for a fic like that if I did another (well, the ATWD longfic proves that).

3. First person or third person?

Usually third person, but I've written at least one fic in first person - it seemed to fit 'Cornelius Hickey's' ego.

4. Past tense or present tense?

Usually past tense, but I can't explain why the Andor fic all wanted to be in present tense. That's just how it came to me. Probably something about wanting to not subconsciously be thinking of how it all ends :')

5. How long do your fics tend to be?

Longer than is decent or desirable, generally. I know this is a feature/bug of not really planning stuff and just writing on vibes, I'm mostly at peace with it.

6. Multi-chapter or one-shots?

The one-shots have an unfortunate habit of growing lore/sequels/prequels.

7. Rarepairs? Yea or nay?

Oh very much YEA. I have obviously written for big ships too (I stand by my Jyn/Cassian love), I don't go out of my way to pick the rarepairs, but god they're just so much more fun. Writing for them, reading them, fandoms for them - it's all so much better. The shared headcanons, the emphasis on a couple of really significant scenes, the extrapolation from crumbs...

8. In character or ooc?

....why would I write for a fandom/character only to write it ooc? The best crackfic and satire is good because it's still in character.

9. Tropes - answered elsewhere

10. Omegaverse?

....no. Not even a bit. I was never into spn, and my earliest fandom interactions were before it was invented. Werewolves? Sure. But just reading the words '[character] was in heat' brings me out in hives

11. OTP(s)?

That I've written/intend to write and stand by as OTPs: Reid/Deborah Goren (Ripper Street), Francis/Jerott (Lymond Chronicles), Marthe/Oonagh (Lymond band au nobody dies), Goodsir/Silna (The Terror), Merab/Irakli (And Then We Danced), Cassian/Jyn, Baze/Chirrut (Rogue One), Cassian/Brasso (Andor), Lee from Utopia/physical pain, his own or others' (Utopia)

That I haven't written for but (would) love to read: Trevor/Alucard(/Sypha) (Castlevania TV series), Captain/Havers (BBC Ghosts), Éowyn/Faramir (LotR), Assane/Benjamin (Lupin). Probably any combination of Wedge/Tycho/Hobbie/Janson (X-Wing series). Luke/Bodhi (Star Wars). That random IRA guy/Matthew MacFadyen's character in Spooks - yes fic exists, yes I've read it.

12. Notps

I'm....really resistant to post-S1 Bix/Cassian and Bix/Brasso. Partly it feels like enforced heterosexuality. Partly I want her comfort and healing to come from community and her own working through it rather than a single magical external healer? Partly I want to know more about her and Timm still (Bix finding the most pathetic little man but genuinely seeming to care for him). Partly I'm petty.

I don't care for big unbalanced power dynamic ships or saviour/damnation type deals like R+ylo. Jyn/Krennic is such a huge NOPE. Reid/Cobden (this is mainly spite ok), Reid/Mimi. Crozier/Silna (lol book version what book version?). Ed/Calico Jack (it's my inner, petty Stede. Also I can't look at Will Arnett, I'm allergic).

It's canon, but Jerott/Marthe can still be a notp. The less I have to think about Anakin/Padmé the better, frankly.

13. Fluff or smut or both?

Oh smut, definitely. But smut that veers unpredictably from fluff to feels to fucked up and back to feels, ideally.

14. Answered elsewhere - I love angst!

15. How do you come up with fic ideas?

I'm pursued by a scene or character or concept until it gets written down, I guess. Sometimes spitballing ideas with people helps, or just gazing lovingly at the same gifsets time and again.

16. Are you a planner or do you just write by the seat of your pants?

Pantsing. Sometimes when I'm already in too deep I'll sullenly plot out a few bullet points, but by and large I just try to dissociate until words happen.

17. Do you title you chapters?

Oh hell no, titling the fic is hard enough

18. Overused words or phrases that just make your eyes twitch?

I probably don't read enough fic to have a list of these. I try not to be a Britpicker, but I like to read fic that's been properly researched, where the setting and language has been considered so obvious oversights around the setting can be off-putting.

19. What's something that you struggle with as a writer?

Oh, the big picture, passage of time type stuff connected with a solid plot and plan. I zoom right in on scenes and mannerisms and expend thousands of words on not very much happening, and then I read a fic that is so succinct and well conceived and covers several years in a character's life and leaves no wiggle room at all but is like. 3-5,000 words? And I just die a bit because how do you do that?? But I'm trying to be happy with what I write anyway - it's a different approach and it suits the way I'm able to find time for writing these days.

20. Any writing advice?

Leave your shame behind and just write what you want, how you want! Tag well and post it because you enjoyed creating it and maybe someone else will enjoy reading it! Also don't be afraid of restarting a draft from scratch, but don't delete anything you've written - keep those files. And probably just...go for a walk or a shower or whatever and have a think away from the draft for a bit, things will often be clearer with some distance.

[batri-jopa]

Another chapter of DAFT - my And Then We Danced fanfic has been born, wheee!

Oh my, what's not there? You can expect:

sweet talks

dirty talks

very stupid jokes

old soviet song

fanfictioning ones future

excessive marine symbolism

cuddling in Alec and Maurice style

pillow fight in Salman Toor art style

and even a bit of David appreciation (something for you @morulezopelforever ?)

Apparently, love language of Merab and Irakli is being idiotic together. And Irakli only comes in two modes: either good doggy or jackass😆

I just sooo love them laughing!❤❤❤ And hope you'd like it too

[batri-jopa]

Me reading some ATWD fanfic set in the room of Irakli’s Granny: *evil thoughts*

Also me: Oh, calm down, it’s just somebody’s else’s fantasy! Don’t treat that like some „who makes it better” competition, you’re not a writer!

Me again: *writing a fic anyway*

Okey, don't get me wrong: reading other fanfics I may grind my teeth numerous times thinking how „unbelievable” or „wrong” or „misunderstood” some things are - BUT I do know it still is the most valid fanfic! And I’d rather fight for your right to write whatever you please than say anything against it. Because the only rule of any fanfic or fanart is: „perfectly fine as long as it brings you pleasure”.

Above everything else I can’t blame people for the want to make their favorite characters talk about their feelings. I feel you there, I understand you and I also do wish all the people in the world learned to always speak freely and honestly about what they feel.

Only NOT Merab and Irakli and NOT in this point of the story!😆

As two typical young Georgians they never learned to speak about their feelings. They don’t even know the right words. And those very few words they do know all sound inadequate or offending for that indescribably beautiful thing that they are experiencing.

And so they are left there with the only language they do know and use: rules of courtesy, rules of rivalry and silly teasing each other. There's only few types of movement accepted for two men: either of a dance or a fight. And it's all covered with the sauce of deeply internalised fear: „what will people say?”

But it all makes my heart melt even more because they somehow manage to be together! Love will find a way. Avoiding words of hate and insults - they still find their own non-verbal way of communicating. No matter how much they've been taught to compete, the more they've been trained all their lives for male cockfighting, the more equally they treat each other when they're alone. The most equal lovers, to the point that even when they finally make love - they are sides!❤❤ And the more is left unspoken, unnamed and undefined between them - the more organic and beautiful it feels...

So, I don’t know, I finnaly got to write it down like there’s no other option🤷

But don’t worry, in the end I still leave them there in each other arms for you🫂 Can’t tell for sure if there i any real „tension” because I’m ace, but it feels kind of awkward so I guess it’s there... With „I wanted you so much I almost beat you” kind of energy from the „behind the kvevri” scene. And with the door closed and the bed right next to them.

Dinner is served, bon apetit!😋

Ps. When I mention "cockfighting" I refer to one of these pictures from my #bird version ATWD series and as to the kitten trying to look bigger - I meant this.

[batri-jopa]

Oh my, this was long and hard...

Writing of course.

But I managed to give you another chapter of my Daft fanfiction of And Then We Danced / და ჩვენ ვიცეკვეთ (2019) dir. Levan Akin

Containing some tribute to Maurice (if you know it - you'd probably recognize it) because it was my main inspiration.

Heading to a happy ending plausability - I had to put together some of the most emotionally draining scenes from the movie

And since I can't write short sentences to safe my life there's English so bad to make native speakers crunch their teeth probably

Oh, and there's a little bonus as well (too short to be named a chapter - ?) Containing some... sunlight. And non-explicit suggestivity.

[batri-jopa]

Act like a hard working, tough and reasonable young man:

Fall asleep on the ground waiting for your lover

Maurice (1987) dir. James Ivory / And Then We Danced (2019) dir. Levan Akin

[batri-jopa]

His demeanor irresistible

Another fanart of Inchoate by @notasapleasure (fanfic of And Then We Danced (2019) dir. Levan Akin)

[batri-jopa]

Don't forget this heart is taken

Merab and Irakli from And Then We Danced (2019 dir. Levan Akin) in alternative fic where they are still happy together❤

[batri-jopa]

The And Then We Danced fanfic inspired with Maurice - hm, what title should I give that would not sound stupid?🤔

There's only first chapter now. I'm still working on few more... 6 at least for now. But well, lets treat that as a preview

Action? Why, who needs action with sentences like these?

This simplicity for her was something certain, unchanging, reliably soothing her shattered nerves and providing a sense of security. So, in her cheerful lively mood, she had no idea how her words echoed in his head like a barely recognizable echo of unrelated words in an empty shell.

And I don't have beta tester

[batri-jopa]

Welcome to another one of #my ATWD issues

(that means: me overthinking the movie And Then We Danced/ და ჩვენ ვიცეკვეთ, 2019, dir. Levan Akin)

This one been provoked by my talk with @notasapleasure (and with my short ATWD fanfic)

For long time I tried to analyse the moment in the studio with Merab and Irakli practicing together for the first time. I could not stop thinking why did Merab reacted to somebody's kindness the way he did but even more - I could not quite understand Irakli's response: wouldn't it be natural after getting the harsh reply, that clearly mind-your-own-bussiness message for Irakli to feel hurt, offended or anything like that and not... smiling? Just as if he understood some kind of a joke that we've all missed...

So first of all I think Merabi learned throughout his life so far that every talk with another guy (especially when it's about dancing) was an opportunity to compete - to the point it sounds quite ridiculous sometimes... You can hear it in the studio (when he says "I dance since I can walk") as well as later in Irakli's room (speaking about audition in such a manner as if he really was so sure of his own victory over Irakli). At times like this I think Merab was forever a little boy, trained to always play tough and to prove his worth to his brother and older mates at any given occassion. Although he's trying so much it sometimes looks as if he was just a small, nimble kitten who flexed and strutted to look bigger - and all he can ever manage is to look cute...

Now I can imagine Irakli might have met boys much younger that him behaving in a very similar way - maybe among his friends, maybe some little cousin, maybe a little girl? It is possible that he even have a talk about it with someone already: like older cousins being parents and discussing their kids behaviour, or some friend describing how their much younger sibling is always trying to show they can do everything just as good as the big brother does, or maybe some older person speaking about how one of the adults was like this years ago...

I guess it's highly probable Irakli had a lot of meetings like this in his life for Georgians have big families and often gathering to eat and talk with younger relatives as well as with the older ones (we in Poland do that too, though not that often anymore, like my mom's family is much bigger than the average one and we meet in a wider company 2 or 3 times a year). It also kind of explains the way Irakli treats his Granny - I guess such care and patience toward repetitive and memory losing old ladies is not so common among guys in his age in western Europe. But Irakli is naturally used to cooperate and care for elder people as well as for younger ones.

And above it all - he also is just a person sensible enough to empathize with somebody's struggle and bear it all in mind. Maybe he even once helped some little boy / little girl to win over his/her older siblings? And felt the overhelming happines of that child's long awaited glory - making him feel joyful and satified on his behalf as if that victory was partially his own?

And what if Irakli himself were like that one day as the only child fighting for his place in the group of older boys when he was little?

And so with any exprerience like that and also being slightly older than Merab - Irakli immediately recognised that mechanism in Merabi's impolite reaction and that's why it made him feel so tenderly toward the guy instead of feeling hurt or offended. He saw the ambitious little boy who can't get to be appreciated but never gave up trying.

Now it may sound ridiculous to some of you but maybe that's exactly what set Irakli's attention at Merab in the first place: it kind of switched on his protectivness and the wish to help that little boy prove his worth. And I do not mean any feeling "older and superior" - I mean the empathetic feeling "I am like you, I feel you and I sincerely want you to feel better"

I think even the first tender smile Irakli gives to Merab (barely knowing anything about him yet, mind you!) might be revealing that Merab reminded him of someone. Someone he already knew and who's memory automatically evoked a warm feeling in his heart. Only from now on every next smile like that will be because of Merab and for Merab only.

[So to all of you alloromantic and allosexual ppl that scene was probably just an obvious "love at first sight" with no need for further digging. But I am AroAce so I am here to search for the obvious and find the unexpected🤷]

Now let's get back to Merab:

He is a younger brother and yes it matters as his personality trait.

I am a younger sibling myself though I'm sure the rivarly between brother and sister is nothing compared to two brothers. For Merab it's the neverending proving that he's not any worse than Davit. Especially as he constantly have to hear the opposite:

So there's that one particular day when in the morning he gets replaced in a dance duo (because apparently after a year of practicing he was not as good as guy who just arrived to the town),

then in the afternoon he has to listen to his own dad telling him that no matter if he practice dancing all days long he'll still be worse than his lazy brother (could have avoided hearing that if not trying to sacrifice himself for the family visiting Ioseb to get some money for electric bill...)

and if that still did not make him feel like a shit: after he finally returns home in the evening - who becomes the hero of the day? Why of course, the drunkard carefree Davit!

It was not until Irakli that Merabi meet anyone to whom he would not need to constantly prove his worth. Yes, there was Mari - but no matter all the sympathy and understanding she has for Merab - as a young Georgian boy he'd also been taught to always prove masculinity to her simply because she was a girl...

So Irakli is the first person Merabi do not need to prove anything. The first person looking at him like there was nobody else in the world worth his attention more. And once Irakli can't hide his drunken style adoration - Merab is so visibly confused for suddently getting all of that attention he was never used to get! In the studio he reacted automatically as always when he was competed. But then by the door of his own bathroom it clearly was not the case and now he has no idea of how to proceed under these new "non competetive" circumstances...

I mean Merab looks as if he'd gladly hide behind a cow if only he had one on his own 😆

(Sorry, I had to finally compare Merabi with Hava from Fiddler on The Roof, I just could not stop myself any longer)

[morulezopelforever]

And Then We Danced

I have seen many films in my life, but this gem by Levan Akin (2019) stands out. It depicts the struggles of a young Georgian dancer to come to terms with his deeper feelings in a society that dismisses homosexuality as something sinful.

The main characters, Merab (Levan Gelbakhiani) and Irakli (Bachi Valishvili) are played by two handsome, young Georgians who deserve all the credit for doing an outstanding job. 

ATWD shows a mesmerizing blend of tradition (Georgian dance, everyday life in Tbilisi, family matters) and individualism (as Merab auditions for the Main Ensemble, he shows a unique routine that defines him as someone who has risen above the mainstream). 

The ending is both sad and reviving. Merab and his secret love Irakli will not end up a couple, but Merab has come to terms with the feelings he has kept hidden for so long. 

Feeling saddened at the lack of a happy ending for Merab and Irakli I was inspired to write fanfics, which can be found on Archive of Our Own. My stories show Merab and Irakli as two men in love who get into all kinds of funny, crazy and absurdist situations. The events described are either comical, sweet or both. 

It is not my intention to mock Akin’s masterpiece by re-creating the characters as comical figures. My stories should be read as a form of credit from a Dutch ATWD fan to a screen tale that was long overdue given the sufferings of LGBTQ people in Georgia. 

Below you will find a link to a recent series of mine....enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3240997

[batri-jopa]

WIP ASK MEME

Thank you @notasapleasure for tagging me!

Who should I tag now? Maybe @zorilleerrant and @figuringthengsout ... And whoever else wants to join! It's two month old tag game so every writer probably have been tagged already😅

Now I don't believe anyone would be really interested in my WIPs (though you're all invited to surprise me!) I just hope that maybe writing about my unfinished writings would feel like actually doing something about it? And listing your problems could be the first step to solve them so...

Let's do this:

AND THEN WE DANCED:

"DAFT"* - fix-it-fic: I decided that Irakli definitely MUST see Merab sleeping in front of his granny's block. The rest of the movie plot I try to leave as untouched as I could so it is still far from easy happy ending. But at least I gave them time to think and chance to work on it. And whenever they feel relaxed they start to behave silly for that's the part of their relationship dynamics that I adore❤️ *Note: fic was inspired with Maurice by E.M. Forster where "a happy ending was imperative". I even made few scenes or characters' thoughts as homage to either scenes from a Maurice book or from its movie adaptation. But I doubt ATWD fans know Maurice and even less that Maurice fans care for ATWD. That is I'm not sure if there more than two persons like this, including me😅

WIP with working title: "DEFY THE WORLD"* - could be treated as sequel of DAFT (I decided to put here all the ideas that did't fit to main narration of "Daft". It's a bit like "Mary Poppins in the park" for that matter). All in all - Merab and Irakli are still together in Georgia somehow! I try to give very little details about place and time as possible (I was never good in world building, analysing interactions is what I prefer - so I trust your brains to fill up the gaps💪). I simply just enjoy writing short scenes and some cute aspects of their relationship in my free time. Some are quite good I think. And some are NSFW. *my first idea of working title was "Cud, miód i orzeszki" - it is Polish untranslable phrase indicating a very pleasant situation, and I love it because "orzeszki" means nuts (very important ingredient in georgian cuisine!) but also because you can't say the word "orzeszki" without ending up with broad sweet silly smile on your face - and that's exactly the mood that I wish for our boys!❤️

SOME JUST STAY UNSEEN (aka NIGHT NATION) explaination: that's my vampire story initially inspired with anime series Black Blood Brothers - especially with its minor character Kelly Wong and her people. The moment she told Mimiko sth like: "You don't need to worry, I just had a snack" in the most casual way and gave her that grin - she stole my heart and possesed my mind. Ever since then I've been wondering and analysing, and theorising, and inevitably world-building: were do young, poor, not-noble vampires like her hunt? Were do they live? How do they survive? How do they support each other as a community? My story takes place in "alternative universe central Europe", does not include any of BBB characters and also I changed some rules of vampirism - so I actually don't treat it as fanfic anymore.

Presence (1990s) - story of Robbie, the teenager who was just recently changed into vampire and is struggling to learn the rules of that weird new world, with help of his vampire older brother, Jerr.

Past life of other vampires around (gradually revealed in the main narration but Robbie often stays unaware of those): young widow Jen, jewish girl Arue (turned during WWII by The Oldest), her sister Pam (who Arue turned in 1950s), Apter (The Oldest vampire in this part of the area, changed in medieval times [the name is fucking stupid but initially I named him Sayo which turned out to be a female name]). Jerr's past remains unknown for longest

Human perspective of Alex, a teenage girl who became Robbie's friend

I was writing this story for so many years already (it's spinning in my brain since... 2009? Or longer?) that I feel like I grew up with it. I witnessed my brain gradually turning from empathysing with young Rob - to finally choosing POV of his older brother, Jerr. There's almost no romantic interactions, because I honestly never felt any need for them (I discovered that I am aromantic just 2 years ago - and now I'm fascinated to see how obviously aromantic all my vampire-OCs always were without me even knowing). The story is fucking long (about 500 pages in Word document) and needs huge edition (many important scenes I was describing 4 or even 5 times, always with a bit different details). And the whole thing is written in Polish - if I ever plan to share it I'd need to translate to English with Google Translator or sth.

Should I also list things that I most probably won't even write down? You may notice an obvious pattern of my interest through this... Have some drawings for entertainment:

STORIES NEVER TOLD

OBSESSION OF BLUE - story of winged people. Main character, Nomin, grows up in the country with other winged people only (I had a lot of fun with their world building) but then once is send on another continent to the country of wingless people and stucks there. So he tries to survive among them, hiding his wings and learning different language and culture. His greatest friend back home is a talking cat, Meton, he once got for his birthday. Very sarcastic one. Actually the most interesting character I suppose. Though I like all the moments Nomin behaves so weird in the eyes of the wingless.

KOSA - a winged girl from the same universe as Nomin only she was raised among wingless people in some postapocaliptic fantasy environment. Not knowing anyone like her she is trying hard to be a "normal" girl as is expected from her, though she has passion for long travels and climbing trees. Once she notices her wings start to turn black and she is terrified that she'd turn into a demon (could not know it is a normal sign of a adolescence). So she hides her wings and supress everything her heart desire and still feels like a failure. But when one day her father-figure gets imprisoned, she decides to safe him and that's when she starts to learn how to live and act on her own. That's the girl with sword

CAT RIDER - a young girl (Millie) takes care of an injured tiny guy (Drannen) who fell from the sky. Overcoming the initial prejudice the guy starts to like his young giant caretaker but one day have to return home (he leaves few jewels as gift for her and takes a kitten with him). Another part of the story is few years later: the girl who were turned into a liliput by a bad witch. She meets her old friend who is now a cat rider (she has no idea that he is also a prince). I had a lot of fun with world-building. Nuff said Drannen's compannions call her "the girl who is afraid of her meal" after seeing her reaction to earthworm on her plate

WEIRD TWO FOOTED CREATURE (aka Feet Fetishist) - young centaur meets a human girl on his walk, takes her home and treats as a fascinating exotic pet. Then he gradually learns that she is a person. And that's when their problem appears because centaurs' society is very conservative. (here's Ain and Ida)

WHEELS - very stupid story of boy meets a girl. Or rather get caught? Boy is on wheelchair and girl is... umm, weird? (well, not neurotypical, that's for sure). Anyway the story contains drinking for courage, memory loss, condensed silliness and stupid sexual puns/NSFW. And how was all this inspired with Wheels by Billy Vaughn I can not quite explain (there's also Sail along silvry moon I love it!) I actually always wanted to share this story (anonymously because of how stupid it is) though I never had the courage (what if it's only funny for me? Or if someone would feel offended? I'd burn from shame). On the other hand I guess there's no better place for it than tumblr🤔 But be aware that my most favorite relationship dynamics is "being idiotic together".

I even made few illustrations inventing my new drawing style just for these guys: (the girl here is drunk AF and I love her)

WOLFALIKES - Faith, Love and Hope are three brothers in fantastic world of wolf-alike creatures. Faith is strong (often called Truth for how much knowledge he have and how honest he is), Love is tender and wise and Hope is easy forgiving joy bringer. There's quite sad part because Love and Hope get killed by Hate, Despair and Lie... but they can't be gone just like that, could they? In the other part of the story there's interesting relationship between Faith and Temptation. More about three brothers on my deviantart

NO-WOLF'S TAIL - few stories within a story. All containing wolf-alikes along with demons, spirits, death and trauma. One angry wolf-character with dissociative fugue (after a traumatic quest with his compannion freezing to death and himself halucinating and almost freezing too) becomes a wandering demon-fighting spiritualist (but after another trauma he comes back to his old personality and remembers nothing of what he achieved). Other curious and adventurous young wolf is given the magical power to turn into a human to protect some very important girl - but once a girl gets aware of who he is it becomes complicated (while he's fine with eventually sacrifying his life for her but she's definitely not alright with it). And then there's also a grumpy outcast wolf living in an old castle with bunch of dogs (who despise and avoid him) and his only friend becomes a mouse. Both are disrespected by dogs's society and only have each other. Wolf gets somebody who cares about him despite being scared and the mouse (naive and good heart, easily abused by dogs) gets protection and self-esteem from the wolf.

SARIANS - talking cats on a quest to find a promised land. What's more to say about it? I was a teen and needed an excuse to draw bows and arrows, cats, dragons, foxes and goats... More about sarian cats on my deviantart

[batri-jopa]

მიყვარხარ *

My fanart of INCHOATE (written by @notasapleasure / sshysmm) - a fanfiction inspired with the movie AND THEN WE DANCED / და ჩვენ ვიცეკვეთ (2019) dir. Levan Akin.

__

* "მიყვარხარ" (miq'varkhar) means "I love you"

[notasapleasure]

Sunday six (hundred words...)

No Face - for Anne! 😊

A snippet from the chapter I’ve been working on this week, inspired by a certain instagram story, cheered on by the wonderful Anne - thank you so much for all your words of encouragement and for sending inspiration my way...

There may even be new chapters uploaded this week! Thank you for your patience <3

Irakli shifted, turning sideways to lean his cheek on Merab's belly, but then made a sound of discomfort and pushed himself up from the bed.

Merab craned his neck to see what was wrong, and Irakli laughed as he took the sharpie from his pocket.

"Ohh, you're a thief..." Merab said, leaning on his elbows with a smirk.

Irakli raised his brows. "What's that?"

Swiftly, he lunged, the pen directed at Merab's face - the lid was still on, but Merab fought back - Irakli's hand around his wrist was as exciting as his mouth on his stomach had been - they wrestled until Irakli had Merab pinned in a position he couldn't be bothered to fight against. His wrists were held to the bed, Irakli sat above him, and he leaned down to kiss Merab slow and deep.

Merab made a sound of encouragement in the kiss, willing Irakli to continue.

He did, for a time, and then he sat up - his tidy red shirt was ruffled, half pulled up in the fight, the collar askew. His hair was a mess from the attentions of Merab's hands, and he laughed silently, like a mad genius, as he ripped the lid off the pen.

Merab lay still and watched, biting his lip and wondering what was about to be done to him.

Irakli surveyed his body and smiled to himself. He lowered the pen to the No Face tattoo that peeked above Merab's waist band, and Merab giggled at the cold, ticklish feeling of the ink on his skin. He pushed himself up to watch, and Irakli put his free hand in the centre of Merab's chest and pushed back against him.

Merab tightened the muscles in his stomach to resist, and he saw Irakli take note with a thirsty swallow. He laughed as Irakli pushed again, and only flopped back against the bed when he was told: "No peeking!"

"Master at work..." Merab sighed happily up at the ceiling.

All the strange rules Irakli made for himself, all the tiptoeing around was more than worth it when he was like this. It made Merab's heart full, he felt like he would overflow with the feeling inside him, the sense of Irakli's love, his admiration for him.

Merab tried to lie still but he laughed again at the feeling of the pen. "What are you doing?"

"Shh, don't move, you'll ruin my masterpiece..."

It just made Merab laugh more, and then Irakli laughed too and swore, trying to swipe away some accidental stroke of the pen with his fingers.

He started to laugh uncontrollably and sat back on Merab's thighs, so Merab took it as an indication that he was finished and sat up. The tattoo had been given a pair of stumpy stick man arms, and in one hand was a crudely drawn bunch of flowers. The short spiky strokes sticking up from its head had smudged, and Irakli, still laughing, gave in to the impulse to add glasses and a moustache to it.

"It's you!" Merab laughed as well. "A self-portrait."

"It was going to be..." Irakli said. "The hair looks more like Vakhtang now..."

"Akh, I don't want Vakhtang on my body!" Merab complained.

He licked his fingers, preparing to try and scrub the ink off, but Irakli batted his hand aside again and re-drew the lines of the hair, blushing as he changed the shape of the glasses to heart eyes, and scribbled 'I love you, you prick' next to it.

He met Merab's eyes, his smile still cheeky and boyish - Merab felt himself melt at the sight of those dimples - and leaned over to kiss him, one hand on his jaw, and murmured, "What he said," against Merab's lips.

[notasapleasure]

Sunday six

I’m writing ATWD fic. I’m trying very hard not to clutter the tags, because it doesn’t seem to be a very fic-y fandom. But if anyone’s interested - come and talk to me, I don’t bite! Here are six snippets from what is, at present, a 25,000 word draft, with pretensions to being 100k slowburn angst through to domestic fluff.

Vano chuckled, but it blended with a cough of frustration. "Don't be smart with me. She thinks you're a troublemaker, but I know better." Irakli listened to his father struggle through the sentences with caution, a studied look of blankness on his face, belied only by the restlessness of his eyes as he tried to meet his father's stare. "You waited on that wreck until all the other boys had dived in. You wouldn't be the one to jump first and get in trouble for it." The wreck of the tanker Özlem had been a popular place to swim on the coast. As a kid, Irakli enjoyed mucking about on the hot, rusty hull as much as the other local boys, but his father had never let him forget the way he had held back on that first exploration. He shrugged now at Vano's words, but did not argue. His father drew in deep breaths behind the respirator, never letting his scrutiny drop from Irakli's face. "So, I don't think you caused any trouble, son. I think you scared yourself." - She tried to think when she had last seen her son unfurl his shoulders, when a smile had really lit his eyes up for longer than a moment. He did all the things he used to do: he danced and he handed out pamphlets and maps to late-season tourists, he helped her in the kitchen without needing to be asked, and he took such care of his father. He went out, and stayed out too late, he drank and smoked and took Zinaida on dates. But Elizabeth felt like she had received an automaton back from Tbilisi: like the man in the sculpture on the seafront, Irakli moved as though on rails, following the paths he had always taken, but never quite connecting with those about him. He looked up warily at her question. "What?" "About this girl in Tbilisi, does Zinaida know?" He started to say "what girl in Tbilisi" and then snapped his jaw shut and took a sip of water. - The reality of this estrangement took him by surprise though, and made his eyes sting. The messages in his phone were not an invitation to stay in touch anymore, but a reminder of why Irakli had had to leave. He could carry them around in his pocket, guilty about never having answered them, until his phone broke or he replaced it and then...there would be nothing left. He might find out if Merab had made it into the main ensemble, but if Merab hadn't been chosen, then that would be it. All he would ever know about Merab was contained in the memories he already had. Irakli wondered if the strength of the feeling that threatened to overwhelm him was a displaced response to the dying man in the next room. The possibility didn't make him miss Merab any less. He stared at his phone screen and sniffed the build-up of emotion away, swiping at the moisture under his eyes. He lay back on the couch to finish his cigarette, his phone on his chest and his free hand inside his pocket. Every damned song on the radio was about love. - You didn't fall in love with people after mucking around on a weekend at a summerhouse. You didn't fall in love with a guy all of a sudden, when you'd never looked twice at anyone other than women before. He was just figuring out what it meant for him still, and it was taking time - what with his parents to worry about and the added complication of the engagement and this new job for Nikoloz and Giorgi. Besides, Irakli told himself stubbornly, it was just something that hadn't been allowed to run its natural course. It could never have lasted with Merab anyway, even if he'd stayed - what if one of them joined the Main Ensemble? What if neither of them did? They'd have nowhere to go together, they'd never keep it hidden from the other dancers. Merab wasn't subtle enough for that, Irakli thought, with an unexpected pang of fondness. - It was a relief to do something as thoughtless, as normal, as completely defensible and harmless as drinking in an old haunt and swaying to pop songs he shamelessly delighted in. Touch was easy when there was a beat and everyone was drunk - Irakli did not mind whether he bumped against the men or the women dancing close by. Then he caught himself enjoying the shape of one guy's limbs in particular: the physicality of his toned arms was illuminated beneath stark light and shadow, the stranger's tattoos followed the contours of muscle and sinew. Irakli's admiring gaze lingered until he felt a familiar clench of desire which made him bite the inside of his mouth and look down at his drink. Caught off-guard by the strength of the feeling, he downed his beer and gestured to his friends that he was going to the bar. He leaned against an empty part of the counter and felt lightheaded from the alcohol and the heat. Irakli ran his fingers over his face and hair, leant forwards and tried to still his whirling thoughts. They evaded him, circling like the lights above him. The air was insubstantial, a heady mix of sweat and smoke and the sour, dehydrating tang of dry ice. Weirdly, the only thought he could grasp hold of - as he tasted the layers of fermented sugar in his mouth and blinked at the weightlessness of his limbs - was that he had somehow betrayed Merab by looking at another guy like that. - There was no reason to let go of Merab now, and Irakli did not want to. They stretched out, tangled in each other's limbs. Merab's restlessness had finally settled into contentment, his energy concentrated in the deep, easy breaths Irakli could feel in exhalations against his neck, in the slight movement of Merab's ribcage. Irakli nuzzled his jaw against the cloud of Merab's disturbed hair, smelling his shampoo and his sweat, lulling himself as well as Merab by smoothing his touch along the skin of Merab's back. He thought Merab might have slipped quietly to sleep, and he was contenting himself with the fact that his bedroom light would just have to stay on, because he would not disturb Merab in order to reach the switch, when Merab raised his head. He looked at Irakli with sleepy earnestness and kissed him - almost experimentally, as if he had not been doing so all night. "I thought I'd never see you again," he said, and Irakli recognised the tone so well.