#waiwad

[little-murmaider]

Me, has not published a MTL fic in a year, suffering from the worst writers block I’ve ever had, delusional: What if I wrote a Stay Alive sequel in a month.

[little-murmaider]

Someday I’m going to remember how to write and update WAIWAD and THEN you’ll see you’ll ALL see!!!!

[little-murmaider]

After substantial clawing and thrashing and temper tantrums I have made tangible progress on the next chapter of WAIWAD and I think I THINK it’ll be ready to post in the next couple days. But I am also a desperate little creature who craves validation here’s an excerpt:

In his haste to hit the road early, Pickles left his massive CD binder collecting dust on his bedside table. So he and Murderface were at the mercy of the radio. 

The first leg of their journey was soundtracked by staticky Christian rock, sorrowful country, and a deep dive into the migratory patterns of the Gray-cheeked Thrush that played on every single AM station on loop. But things improved as they closed in on Atlanta. The adult contemporary and pop stations weren’t ideal, but they were better than the alternative. (Specifically: The alternative station. If Pickles heard Bittersweet Symphony one more time he was going to drive into oncoming traffic.) The highway rolled out before them like the tongue of a cartoon cat. Dusk was descending, the car’s interior illuminated with pink and gold. “You’re listening to WCAW: THE CROW! WHERE ROCK SQUAWKS!” A screechy CAAAAAAW rattled the speakers. “Been getting a lot of requests for this one!” The DJ went on. “And since, as my producers keep reminding me, my sole purpose in life is to satisfy the ever-shifting whims of a cruel and fickle public, here’s Wide Open Spaces by the Dixie Chicks!” The DJ’s voice bled seamlessly into the song’s twangy intro. Murderface uncrossed his ankles, lifted them off the airbag, and lowered them into the well. Pickles steered with the heel of his palm, his free hand flicking at the switch for the power windows. Neither reached for the radio dial. “Pft,” scoffed Pickles. “Pft PFT,” scoffed Murderface. “🎶 Who doesn't know what I'm talking about?

Who's never left home, who's never struck out 🎶—” “They’ll jest put anythin’ on the radio these days.” “No accounting for taschte! You can change it if you want.” “🎶 To find a dream and a life of their own

A place in the clouds, a foundation of stone 🎶—” “It’s like no one knows whut real music is anymore!” “Yeah! Causche it’s not thisch crap!” “Y’gaht that right! Y’can go ahead an’ change it if ya want.” “🎶 Many precede and many will follow

A young girl's dreams no longer hollow 🎶—” “I hate thisch schong!” “Me too!” “Scho you can change it.” “Yeah y’can go ahead and change it!” “Oh I definitely don’t want to lischten to thisch, scho you can change it.” “Yeeah me neither! We should totally change it!” “Yeah!” “Yeeah!” “🎶 It takes the shape of a place out west

But what it holds for her, she hasn't yet guessed 🎶—” “...I love thisch schong.” “Oh thank Gahd.” “🎶 She needs 🎶—” Pickles cranked the volume to full blast. “🎶 WIIIIIIDE OPEN SPAAAAACES 🎶”

[little-murmaider]

🌹?

[A stranger in a pick-up truck pulls ups.] “Ya’ll need a jump?” “That’sch right kind of ya,” Murderface slammed the hood shut and tipped up an imaginary cowboy hat. “But I reckon the ol’ girl’sch got a buschted radiator hose.”  “What’s happening,” Pickles whispered.

“Any idea where we can rasschle up a replacement? Maybe a couple of gallonsch of coolant?” “My uncle runs the auto parts store in town.” He hooks his thumb toward the trunk bed. “Hop in, I’ll give ya’ll a ride.” “Why thank you, pardner, we’d appreciate that schomethin’ powerful.” [Pickles and Murderface get in the truck.] “What was that? Who wuz that character?” “Oh, heh heh, you mean my down-home perschona? That’sch juscht how I talk when I’m around other down-home folksch, like me.” “Didn’t you grow up in Jersey?” “Only until I wasch 9 and then I moved and I became down-home!”

for every “🌹” received in my inbox i’ll post one random sentence of a random WIP i’m currently writing

[little-murmaider]

🌹

“Gahd, I thought your hair couldn’t get any worse than thaht terrible mullet! What are ya, some kinda rastafahrian? You better naht have any of that wacky tahbaccy on ya, this is a family event.” 

for every “🌹” received in my inbox i’ll post one random sentence of a random WIP i’m currently writing

[little-murmaider]

Fic Meme THING - When all is Wed and Done - 4, 6 & 14, please!

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue? I’m very excited to get to my favorite dialogue bits but we’re like 5-8 chapters out. But from the first chapter: “Sorry, Pee Boy, I have to work. Dimitri said if I miss one more shift I will be.” Magnus tapped a finger to his lips contemplatively. “How did he put it? He said it so eloquently. Ah, yes, shit-canned.” Magnus trying and failing to get the rest of the band to find work was very fun to write.  6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics? Aside from being my first Big Pickleface fic and my first fic from Pickles’s perspective, my approach to this fic is different from either of my other multi-chapters. For Stay Alive and APA, I had specific story beats I built the narrative arc around, and then found the emotion of those beats as I wrote. With WAIWAD the emotional journey is also the main story arc. The wedding is a MacGuffin that catalyzes Pickles’s personal journey as well as his relationship with and understanding of Murderface. Basically, if all my multi-chapters are movies, Stay Alive is a horror-thriller, APA is a rom-com, and WAIWAD is an indie darling. 14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic? I’m not sure how to answer this! Maybe proper wedding etiquette? Both as a guest and as a host.

Fic Asks

[little-murmaider]

My other Sad Murderface HC is he doesn’t know what his mom looks like :( Every photo of her has been damaged in a way that distorts or otherwise completely covers her face. He once looked up her obituary on the microfilm reader at the local library. There was a printing error; a big ink blot covers everything except her mouth. She’s smiling. She has a gap between her front teeth.

[little-murmaider]

We should bring back Murderface May.

[little-murmaider]

🌹🌹🌹

“So yer just gonna abandon me in th’ middle of nowhere.” “I’m not abandoning you, I’m going to get a part to fix the car scho we can keep driving to your family wedding.” “Well how come I hafta stay behind? Why can’t I be th’one to go and get th’thing?” Murderface crossed his arms. “What doesch a radiator hosche look like?” Pickles sputtered indignantly, drawing a vague hourglass shape with his hands. “It’s, y’know, tube…”

for every “🌹” received in my inbox i’ll post one random sentence of a random WIP i’m currently writing

[little-murmaider]

Okay I’m gonna do it I’m gonna finish the first chapter (sigh.........) of my Abigaar Season Four AU for Abigail Day. Is it a bad idea to start a second multi-chapter when I have struggled to consistently update one? Yes. Unfortunately I’m gonna do it anyway.

[little-murmaider]

Is anyone interested in the season four canon-divergent Abigaar AU that came to me in a vision or should I just stuff that one back in the tank.

[little-murmaider]

Okay I’ve had just enough beers to say if you’ve ever had a positive thought or an idea about Abigaar I Would Like To See It.

[little-murmaider]

A sequel to Stay Alive

(What's a Fic You'd Like to See Me Write?)

Uhhhhhhhhh about that..................

[little-murmaider]

Pickles’s delivery of, “that’s because it’S A STOOL, MURDERFACE” lives in my head rent free.