#when adverbs are brought up?

[kahuna-burger]

Also :

And by contrast :

explain the difference between adverbs and adjectives in a way that makes sense i need help

Adjectives describe a thing or a quality. Blue, big, happy, lost. They tend to attach to nouns (or pronouns). The lost manuscript. The big blue box. I am happy.

Adverbs describe how something was done. Happily, dangerously, mostly, fast, fabulously. They tend to attach to verbs and change or modify the information the verb gives us. I danced happily. I walked fast. I am mostly funny. He waved his weapons dangerously. We were all fabulously drunk.

How's that?

[faux-fires]

Something Stranger and More Wonderful

Until the day Sokka died, he knew he'd remember the cool gaze of the leopard-caribou as she looked upon him in his bank of snow. It hadn't been a malicious look, just a calculating one. She needed a meal, and she cared no more whether or not he was afraid than he’d cared whether the seal his father brought back from the beach in spring had felt fear before it died. The stranger in the water had eyes like that now. Sokka finds himself shipwrecked, stranded with no way home. When an impossible predator shows up to take advantage of an easy meal, Sokka must use all his wits to keep him distracted… and survive long enough to get back home for his sister's wedding.

Chapter 1 of 8 | Alternate Universe: Mermaids | Meat Cute | Rating: M (eventually E) | Further warnings in AO3 tags

Super excited to reveal my team's project for @zukkabigbang2024!!! With multiple gorgeous pieces by by @chiptrillino and betareading performed by @ranilla-bean (who boldly went to war against my adverbs), and a special shout-out to @ash-and-starlight for cheerleading services - it really took a village for this one, I hope you enjoy!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Using Descriptors

A common pitfall of writing is the overuse of descriptors.

When adjectives and adverbs are used too liberally, it slows down the pace of the narrative.

Example

The young, male soldier nonchalantly stood with his back against the ornately carved wooden fence and angled his head upwards towards the sky, smoking and staring distractedly at the cotton-ball like white clouds that moved westward above the city. From her place at the window two stories above, Melanie vigilantly watched him as he slowly and repeatedly brought his cigarette calmly to his lips, expelling plumes of grey smoke with each measured exhalation. She wasn’t sure why, with so many thousands of private gardens in the city, this strange, unknown, soldier had chosen her garden—with its walls of knotty rhododendrons and the rows of rose bushes, only now coming into beautiful, red bloom, that her mother had planted the year before in an attempt to bring some color into their lives—to smoke in. Her uncertainty made her scared, and she began to feel a cold fear spread throughout her body, from her terrified heart, all the way to her extremities

Compare it to this version

The soldier stood with his back against the fence, smoking and staring distractedly at the clouds that moved westward above the city. From her place at the window, Melanie watched him as he repeatedly brought his cigarette to his lips, expelling plumes of smoke with each exhalation. She wasn’t sure why this soldier had chosen her garden—one of thousands in the city—to smoke in; and, if she was being honest with herself, she was scared.

The second version is easier to read.

The idea of the paragraph is simple, but when you add an abundance of adjectives and adverbs, the result is clumsy and harder to understand.

This is how descriptors slow down the pace of the narrative.

Writing Tip

The ideal paragraph lies somewhere between these two versions.

It’s not as streamlined as the second, but not as over described as the first.

Adjectives and adverbs serve an important function, but you should be skeptical of them.

When you see them in your own writing, ask yourself whether they’re necessary.

Another Example (Written by Jack Kerouac)

Anybody who’s been to Seattle and missed Alaskan Way, the old water front, has missed the point. Here the totem-pole stores, the waters of Puget Sound washing under old piers, the dark gloomy look of ancient warehouses and pier sheds, and the most antique locomotives in America switching boxcars up and down the water front, give a hint, under the pure cloud-mopped, sparking skies of the North-west, of great country to come.

There's an abundance of adjectives, but it seems to work.

This is partly because of the periodic sentence.

The sentence can be collapsed into “Here the totem-pole stores give a hint of great country to come.”

Every other clause is subordinate (or dependent), which naturally speeds up the pace at which it's read.

This is why, in this example, adjectives don’t slow down the pace too much.

Instead, they slow you down just enough to lend a contemplative sense to the vast scene unfolding before Kerouac.

As you see, adjectives and adverbs aren’t necessarily evil words that should be avoided at all costs.

They should, however, be used judiciously.

As you edit your writing, continue to ask yourself whether each sentence really needs its descriptors.

In Summary: Be skeptical of your descriptors, and the pace of your narrative will benefit.

Source ⚜ 100 Sensory Words Writing References: Worldbuilding ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character

[exorcqism]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ❛ THE BLOOD PAINTER — 画家 , CHOSO KAMO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ art; it brought you both together. it brought you to a fair. wc, 2.42K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. i’m so proud of myself cuz i’m actually trying to keep up with everything. like i got the headcanons done now i’m working on this and infinity (unfortunately it’s ending) then i have to attempt to write the desire disease. i kinda went on a hiatus wit that one..ANYWAY hope ya enjoy :D reblog to support meeee and lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part

␥ tags. artist!choso, college AU, possible nsfw, female anatomy, smoking, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3 PART TWO

the camera flashed as the boys stood closely together, displaying their best smiles. the device lowered as a medium sized polaroid slid out of the slot in the front. choso shook his wrist, trying to get the photo to develop quicker. a small smile appeared on his lips once it showed up.

yuji poked his head over his brother’s shoulder, trying to see the photo. “i like that one. you should use that for your project.” choso gave a smile and nodded, keeping his little brother’s suggestion in mind.

it was a nice november afternoon and the brothers were spending the weekend at a fair. children ran around the area, playing and eating sweets. choso thought this was the perfect place to capture some photos.

the four boys made their way around the park, choso happily watching his three brothers play games together and enjoy themselves. each time itadori beckoned choso to join, he’d politely decline but he was eventually pulled into the shenanigans of his brothers.

once choso got some time to himself, he’d walk around the park after advising his brothers to stay together and try not to get lost in the huge crowds of people. he’d also give them a meeting point when it was time to head home.

treading lightly, taking in the sights of everything and flashing his camera at anything he found interesting, he heard someone call his name. a female voice, in fact. you were waving at choso with a soft smile on your face.

you seemed to be spending the day at the fair with your friends. each of you had food and a couple of your friends had big, large plushies that they might’ve won from playing the games. it made choso wonder why you didn’t get one.

your shoes clack against the ground as you made your way to the apathetic looking male but you could’ve sword you saw him smile but it could’ve been your mind playing tricks. choso had on a green sweater underneath the brown jacket he wore over it. even under the green sweater, you saw the black shirt poking out of it. he wore khaki cargo pants and his usual black boots—the ones you’ve been seeing him wear almost all the time.

you noticed the grey beanie that sat neatly over his dark short lengthed hair and the tote bag that he carried over his shoulder with stickers on the fabric. his violet eyes pierced yours once you had some distance from him.

“hey, i didn’t expect you to be here,” you beamed at the male, seeming quite happy to see the guy. suddenly, there was a bright flash covering your eyes, making you blink rapidly.

“sorry but your smile was worth capturing.” choso said in his usual, low adverb voice. your cheeks flushed a deep red color at his comment. you didn’t know if he was flirting or being serious. he tucks his camera away, gently putting it down into the tote bag then looking up at you.

“i didn’t expect you to be here either.” choso peered behind you, noticing your friends congregated around the cotton candy stand, standing closely to each other as they waited for you to return. “i see you brought some friends.”

“more like they brought me.” you laugh. “but yeah, it was a chance i didn’t wanna miss. didn’t wanna wait all the way until the new year or christmas to get with everyone and go to a festival. what about you? i see you got your camera, so you must’ve thought this was a good time too.”

“i promised that i’d take them out this weekend and i thought it’d be a good time to take pictures so i can finish my project and you know—get it over with.” he answered.

“yeah, that’s what i figured.” you replied. glancing around you tried to see where his brothers may be but there wasn’t anyone that stood out. “where are they?”

“i let them explore the place on their own. i didn’t want them to feel like they had to follow me around the entire time. i just told them to make sure that they stay together. i really don’t feel like running around this place looking for anyone.”

you giggled. having to look for so many people at once sounded hard and with choso being the eldest of the four, he had to do it all on his own.

just when you were about to let choso know that he could continue with his task, you noticed your friends waving their hands at you, seemingly wanting you to stay with him. you hadn’t declared that you were about to walk away yet, so it was pretty good timing.

inhaling and exhaling through your nose, you prepared the question in your mind, praying you didn’t sound stupid when the words exited your lips.

“did you wanna…uh..like hang out for the rest of the day?”

choso’s cheeks flushed. the bandage that covered the bridge of his nose looked fluorescent because of the blood rushing to his face. his lips parted to speak but it was like your words restricted him from even saying what he wanted to say to you.

‘just say yes, damn it.’

choso shook his head ‘yes’ despite the voice in his head yelling at him to speak actual words and stop pretending to be mute. though, it couldn’t be helped. the poor boy was nervous and he never had these kinds of interactions with women. he was always too shy to speak unless they spoke to him first.

with that, the two of you stroll around the park, stopping at each of the games. he picked up that you were pretty playful like yuji was. always wanting to try something new even if you were scared.

that meant getting on a roller coaster that went at intense speeds and rose up at unfathomable heights. you were wondering how people enjoyed these without screaming and crying out of fear. but you kept optimistic.

“woah, you’re past the limited height mark.” you laughed as the two of you boarded the coaster, sitting next to each other. choso was significantly taller than you were. he was quite literally towering over you.

“uh…is that a good thing?” he asked, cheeks still a bit flushed, adding some kind of life to his pale skin. you smiled and nodded, laughing a little. the staff would strap the passengers, including the both of you, into the seats before yelling final warnings before starting.

before you knew it, the ride began and the wind smacked your face harder than anyone ever could. it was definitely an experience…an exciting one, at that.

when the ride ended, you were jumping up and down with excitement. “lets go on again. that was so fuckin fun.” you squealed. choso somehow already looked worn out and more tired than he usually did. he’d adjust his beanie as he grabbed his bag from the cubbies at the entrance.

“maybe later…” he huffed. you pouted.

“fine, we’ll go before we leave. but at least try to play the games. you could win some plushies for your brothers.” you suggested. choso raised an eyebrow. instead of letting him answer, you pulled him along.

arriving at a balloon popping game, your anxiety suddenly shot up. you hated the sound of balloons popping. you weren’t particularly scared of them but you hated the popping sound or the thought of someone popping it.

the male beside you quickly picked up on it and handed you his ipod. “would you like to listen to some music while i play?”

you could’ve easily said no and pulled out your own phone but you decided not to do that since choso was letting you use his things. after thanking him for offering his ipod to you, your plug in your headphones and searched for a song you liked. once you found a couple songs, you’d turn the music up so you didn’t have the dreadful popping sound.

soon enough, the game was over and choso was walking back to you, holding a snorlax plushie. two of them in fact. it’s tired and relaxed expression reminded you of choso.

“hm, is this for me?” you asked, seeing the plushie being held in front of you. choso nodded. you weren’t really expecting to get anything today unless one of your friends got it for you or you just got lucky and won the prize on your own.

your hands wrapped around the plushie and you smiled at it. in exchange for the plushie, you returned his ipod.

“thanks.” you say softly.

as the day begins to fade away, you and choso found yourselves on the ferris wheel, slowing going up to the top. it was a great view. choso flashed his camera at the scenery as the lights of the fair lit up the ground below them. the polaroid slowly pushed out of the slot of the camera. the male would take it and gently shake it to develop the image.

“how many pictures have you taken so far?” you asked, turning your attention away from the ground and towards choso.

“i’ve taken exactly thirty two pictures, these past couple days. they’re more than enough but i strive for extra success in my assignment and creativity.” he spoke. “yesterday, i bought an empty scrapbook so i can decorate it all myself.”

“you gonna put me in it?” you smirk. choso paused, thinking back to earlier when he had took a picture of you unexpectedly. he’d scratch his neck, looking hesitant on answering you. he nodded, quietly replying ‘yes’ to your question.

“i’ll be sure to include you.” he whispered. a sudden thought appeared in his mind. the thought made him dig down into his bag and pull out a pen. it was actually your pen.

“i…meant to give this back to you a month ago...it was during the orientation when school started.” choso said. “i just forgot to give it back and i…i-uh—didn’t know where to find you.”

you raised your eyebrows. you weren’t heavily worried about the pen, though you were a bit upset that you lost it on that particular day. it was definitely your favorite pen.

shaking your head you lowered choso’s hand as he attempted to give you the pen back. “no, it’s okay. you can keep it. i have a bunch of other pens and pencils i could use. it’s not a big deal.”

“really?” choso put his hand down into his lap once you lowered his hand. “i thought you’d be upset about it…or at least want it back. i mean—i’d want my stuff back if i lost it…uh—are you..are you sure you don’t want it back?”

“nope, it’s okay.” you assured. choso seemed a bit surprised. he was still uncertain but you insisted that he kept the tool, so he placed it back into his bag along with everything else he had packed inside. “lets just enjoy the night, okay?”

“yeah….sure. enjoy the night.”

when the time at the fair was surely ending, the two made their way to the entrance. there, yuji, eso, and kechizu were waiting for their big brother and your friends were waiting for you also, one of them dangling their keys to signal you that the car would come around to get you.

“head to the car.” choso softly commanded and the three boys would walk to the parking lot, leaving you and choso alone.

“well, i’ll see you back at school, hm?” the male says to you, adjusting the tote bag over his shoulders then pulling his sweater down.

“yeah, i’ll see you at school, monday.” you smiled. you were about to head to the car when you noticed your friends pulling up but you stopped yourself. “hey, lets exchange numbers. we can talk a little more and maybe hang out—uh…if it’s cool with you, i mean.”

choso nodded and gave you his phone. you typed your name and number into his phone before handing it back to him. “thank you…i mean—uh, i’ll call you…maybe—probably.” he stammered, making you laugh.

“call me,” you smiled before walking towards the car before speaking again. “i had a good time by the way. i really hope we can do this again soon.”

“yeah…me too.” choso chuckled.

when choso got into the driver’s seat of the car, yuji leaned over, removing his feet from the dashboard. he had a smirk on his face. a mischievous look that anyone could recognize.

“i saw you flirting over there…” he prompted.

“i…no i wasn’t.” choso stammered, feeling his face starting to heat up all over again. “i was just talking to her…nothing more.”

eso hummed, “it just depends on what was said.”

yuji flung his head from eso to choso again, his smirk growing wider as another idea formed in his mind. “well, what’d you say, big bro?”

“uh…is getting her phone number considered flirting?”

the entire car went silent for a moment.

“i think you just got a girlfriend.” yuji grinned.

upon arriving home, you made your way to your room with a smile on your face, reminiscing about the time you had at the fair. of course, you had a good time with your friends during the first half of your trip but the second half was even better, making the entire day more memorable.

you gently place the snorlax plushie choso won for you onto your bed, your smile growing just a bit wider. once you got settled and put on some pajamas, you grab your phone to do some late night scrolling before you fall asleep. that’s when you got a text.

‘hey it’s choso..the guy in your english class’

‘i just wanted to make sure i’m not texting a fake number’

you could hear his relaxed, deep voice echoing through your mind as you read the words on the screen, encased in a blue box. your thumbs swiftly punched the letters on your screen as you typed back.

‘no you aren’t texting a fake number it’s me lmao’

‘i wouldn’t purposely give you the wrong number, that’s kinda mean’

‘okay good just wanted to be sure. are you home? you got back safely with no incidents right?’

you smiled at the message. you knew choso well enough to know that he was a very caring person. it had only been a few weeks and you easily picked this up. the way he spoke of his family made this part of him stand out, shedding some light on the artistic man with that dull expression.

‘no incidents’

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

[paperclipninja]

Still We Know Each Other So Well - Chapter 7

Rating: Explicit

Story summary: A few months ago someone on Tumblr commented that they'd seen ponderings about what would happen if Aziraphale or Crowley's memory was wiped, but what if both their memories were wiped?

This is a story of that what if.

Chapter summary: Crowley has to face the consequences of walking out of Aziraphale's flat. This chapter is brought to you by the letter S (it's smut, the S is for smut)

Excerpt:

The slam of the door stopped Crowley in his tracks. His heart and thoughts were racing as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had been so sure Aziraphale felt the same way he did—the man had even said he wanted to see Crowley again—but when asked, there was that hesitation. Just like outside the pub. 

Perhaps it was an overreaction, storming out without giving him the chance to explain. If he was honest, Crowley would have to admit that it was because he already felt too much and the idea of Aziraphale not wanting him the same way made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. And the thought that he had misinterpreted whatever it was between them, that he’d been foolish enough to feel so certain about something—about someone—when they’d barely spent any time together, made his blood run cold in a crippling kind of dread. 

Hands trembling, Crowley looked down at the plant still in his grasp, then over his shoulder at Aziraphale’s flat. He pivoted slowly, carefully placing the gift on the worn brown carpet, just to the side of the entrance. Crowley exhaled heavily as he stood up, trying to expel the growing ache in his chest. It felt as though his heart was splitting in two. He knew it was ridiculous, this reaction after one night out and a couple of hours at the market, but he also knew that it was more than that. He couldn’t have said why, but the way Aziraphale seemed to read him, the way they fell so easily into step with one another; it was comforting and thrilling and he felt understood in a way that made little sense. But it was undeniable.

Continue reading on AO3

Thank you, as always, to the one and only glorious musk-fish, culler of adverbs and marvellous cheerleader/beta @harlotofupdog

And to the wonderful goblins at @goodomensafterdark

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

⋆˙⟡♡ Redamancy ⋆˙⟡♡ Pt2 - Re

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙

Jisung x Fem!Reader

Anon Request: I hope you enjoy, sunshine <3.

Warnings: Slight Cursing

Word Count: 4.9k

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Stemmed from the New Latin word "redamantia" which is derived from the Classic Latin word "redamō" which translates to "I requite love"; Redamancy is used as a term translated to "a love returned in full, loving the one that loves you". Or in the simplest form - the opposite of unrequited love.

Redamancy: a love returned in full, loving the one that loves you.

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙

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Re: prefix. re is typically attached to verbs or adverbs to indicate an action is being done "again" or done "back". ex; "re-tie" would mean "to tie again"; "re-ciprocate" would mean to do something "back" or in return.

♡ Re: prefix. stage two. the art of shared love ♡

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You slunk back into the black leather couch.

You had never been one to like horror movies all that much; but it was the majority vote to watch something scary and suspensful - majority meaning Jeongin begged to watch the newest Exorcist and his hyungs gave in.

You sat in between Minho and Felix. The latter had a Bible placed on the table next to him which made Jisung smile. Felix was such a scaredy cat.

And you could be one at times, which made Jisung worry a little. He knew rationally that you could decipher real froma fake, but in the moment you would be scared and it would awaken his urge to protect you from anything and everything.

When had he become so hopelessly romantic?

He sighed as Chan started the movie. He couldn't even focus on the scene in front of him as he tried to locate the exact moment, he saw you as a woman rather than friend. As a potential girl for him to dive into uncharted feelings with rather than a girl he could gossip with occasionally.

He had acknowledged by now he loved you. Even if it was not even two hours prior it felt like it was an eternity ago that he had acknowledged that conclusion.

Love seemed to have a way of warping the construct of time. He only accepted it moments before; yet now every memory he had with you was laced in the context of romance; furthering his belief that love was a powerful force, strong enough to create an amorous nostalgia that hadn't existed before now.

He made a mental note to share that with Chan as a potential song concept whenever the time came.

His eyes trailed to your face. You sat criss-crossed on the couch, one knee resting on the knees of both boys who were next to you.

Your eyes were wide with a fearful yet intrigued anticipation as the movie played on screen.

He watched the way your eyes narrowed slightly- a reflexive response whenever you felt a jump scare were to occur. As if you felt it would help you close your eyes quicker.

He watched your cheek twitch slightly, and he could imagine you gnawing on it. You had spent so much time around his members that you began to pick up on some of their mannerisms, and during an especially suspensful scene you brought your fingers towards your neck, feeling for your pulse as Felix did the same.

Jisung itched to reach out to you, to provide the slightest sense of comfort to you. Without even watching the TV he knew something had occurred on screen.

You jolted in fear and instinctively looked for comfort in the closest body to you.

You turned into Minho's chest in a subtle fashion, reaching out to squeeze his forearm.

The cat eyed boy looked at you and gave you a small smile as you looked back towards the screen. But Jisung couldn't tear his eyes away from your manicured nails digging slightly into the older boy. He wondered if Minho felt the same sensations he felt at the heat of your soft skin connecting with his.

Am I imagining things or are his eyes...softer?

Is he looking at her the way I look at her?

Han sighed as he leaned back into the couch he was occupying with Jeongin, Seungmin and Chris. The leader eyeing Jisung with slight concern.

"You good?" He whispered. Jisung nodded once and his eyes made their way back towards you. Your hand still resting on Minho's limb, causing crescent shaped indents in his warm ivory skin.

Another sigh escaped Jisung's mouth.

People did things subconciously didn't they? You were seeking comfort from Minho without giving it any thought. Did that mean comfort was something you associated with him? Did you think about Minho a lot? You did seem to have a soft spot for him. And it was well known to everyone that you had a special place in Minho's heart as well.

As the movie progressed Jisung couldn't focus. He analyzed every one of your movements, taking every shift, squeeze, breath and lean into consideration.

By the end of the movie you had gone up to go to the bathroom, and Jisung went into the kitchen to grab more snacks for a movie of Felix's choosing this time.

Minho followed Jisung in the kitchen to clean a bowl that had been used during the first movie.

Without a second thought Jisung spoke.

"Hyung, you like Y/N?" He turned to look at Minho who cocked his head.

Minho, feeling mischievous grinned. "Of course I like Y/N. She's amazing, isn't she?" Jisung wasn't in the state to be aware of Minho's teasing tone.

And it hit him where it hurt.

"Mm. She is amazing." He said plating some of Felix's treats on a platter. Minho opened his mouth to speak, to tell Jisung he was teasing but Jisung had already started heading to the living room.

He crossed paths with you on the way back and you latched on to his arm.

"Ji, I feel like I haven't seen you all night."

Jisung tensed slightly as you embraced his arm. And a smile crept its way up his face.

"Y/N, I was sitting on the couch across from you. Of course you've seen me. And I was at your house prior to this."

You pouted as he set the platter down. "Still, my feelings of lonliness are valid." You whined pouting, and wrapping your arms around him.

Jisung inhaled as he returned the embrace.

Has she always fit so perfectly in my arms? How had I never noticed?

He was more silent; less expressive than he usually was whenever you were in his embrace. Up until now there was always a soft moan, contented sigh, extreme yapping or some paralanguage that conveyed his emotion.

You looked up at him, and he seemed lost in thought as he looked at you-

A troubling thought; you could tell.

"Sunnie?" You prodded quietly.

It had been a while since you had used that nickname. You reserved it for more serious and intimate conversations and moments.

It made Jisung go to war in his mind.

The first time you had ever called him that he was confused; he thought anything related to sunshine or warmth should be directed at his birthday neighbor, but you had simply shaken your head.

"Felix is definitely sunshine. But...you're my sun."

He remembered how he had felt conflicted in the moment. You said it with no underlying connotative value; it was common for you to give profound and poetic to compliments to many people.

But it sounded so...loving. As if you were caressing him with your words.

Please Minho Hyung...don't love her. Don't love her the way I love her.

Please let me be selfish.

Finally he let out a breath. And you furrowed your brows.

"Jisung?"

He opened his mouth to speak, the tips of his squirrel like front teeth showing, causing a quick wave of some indescribable feeling of affection but he closed it as he looked up.

"We're about to start the movie, Changbin is hungry so I'm gonna go get something heartier to eat rather than snacks."

You and Jisung laughed in unison.

"He's always hungry~" Jisung felt content with knowing you guys were at that level in your relationship as if you could predict what each other was going to say and read each others minds.

"Ah, hyung buy something for me please." Jisung begged cutely.

Minho rolled his eyes while nodding. "Of course jagiya anything for you." He comments in an overly affectionate voice. He then turned to you. “Y/N do you want to come along with me?”

You were to preoccupied by Minho’s question and the underlying meaning that you didn’t realize the way Jisung tensed behind you.

He pulled you flush against his chest, as you cheerily answered.

“Yes! I have to tell you something!”

Jisung swallowed as you pulled away and Minho chuckled, his smile showing as he pulled you towards the door.

“Jisung text Y/N-ie your order, alright?” He called as he shut the door behind them.

He had stood there for a moment, and Chan made his way over.

"We're about to start, Minho said he would be back- hey, hey are you okay?"

Jisung didn't even realize he was crying until his leader had pointed it out.

"How can I...am I wrong...am I selfish?" Jisung sputtered. "Am I seflish because I want to have her to myself?"

Chris opened his mouth to say something but instead just pulled Jisung into his arms.

"Love is hard, huh." He murmured into the younger one's hair, letting him be consoled.

Jisung couldn't agree more with that statement.

From anyone's persepctive love was hard.

He loved you. He loved Minho. He loved both of you so much it would kill him not to see either of you happy.

And he realized just that, you guys were happy with each other. His hyung was opening up even more around you.

Maybe you were that person for Minho, to pull him out of a shell he loved staying in.

Maybe you were going to be the person who pulled him out of his comfort zone.

You guys would look cute, and Jisung had no doubt about Stays adoring you two.

How could they not adore someone like you? And if you were to pull that genuine laugh and smile out of him more often than Stays would love you even more. At least the true ones.

He couldn't come between. He just couldn't.

No matter what he felt he had to put you and Minho first.

He wasn't going to hurt either of you by ejecting himself into something that was bringing you both joy.

He wouldn't be able to live with those consequences.

He wouldn't make you love him back.

But maybe he could help you realize that you loved Minho back.

Because all he wanted was for you to be happy and loved.

And he was sure Minho would provide that perfectly.

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"And he said undoubtedly. Like the way he said it the look in his eyes. Gahhhhh, Minho I cannot. I physically cannot. I'm so in love it's so bad." You whined to the older male you walked beside. "Like how could I not fall in love with him." You pouted.

Minho nodded thoughtfully as you continued to rant about every single thing you loved about Jisung.

"And Minho I swear I saw burgundy under his sweater. Like that mean he took my sweater right? Why else would a guy take a girls sweater unless they're interested?" You stopped to take a breath. "And like in the car it was kind of awkward and it made me wonder if maybe he finally figure it out? Maybe he realized that I am so hopelessly in love with him that he decided to like step back or something?" You asked worridely.

Minho shook his head. "I highly doubt the Y/N-ie, I'm sure he is probably over-thinking something-"

"-My love for him?"

"I-...No I'm sure it wasn't that. From what I can tell Jisung is at least interested. And didn't he hug you?"

"Well, you hug me and you're not interested in me romantically."

"Well that's different." He huffed. "Mine is like a brotherly hug, because you're like my little sister- Jisung hugs you like a person would hug their significant other." He said in a matter of fact tone, as if he was more than sure that that was the meaning behind it.

By the time you got back to the dorm, the guys we're starting a different movie, since they hadn't really liked the one, they had originally put on.

Changbin and Jeongin immediately zoned in on the food and swooped in to take it from you.

You noticed Jisung had a seat next to him open on the couch and you went to sit next to him; excited that you would be able to this movie.

He tensed slightly when he saw you, and you threw your arms around him.

"Jisunggggg..." You sung, as you tucked your feet under yourself and snuggled into his side.

For the first time ever he instantly pulled away from you.

You looked at him, confused. He never refused a hug from you.

"I'm gonna go help Minho Hyung with the food." He said shooting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen.

Hyunjin raised a brow as you sat there like a gaping fish.

"Did you two lovebirds get into a fight?" He asked popping a chip in his mouth.

You shushed him as you got up to follow Jisung, but instead Felix intercepted you in the hallway.

"Y/N I need to show you something- come with me!" He said pulling you into his room as you looked over your shoulder to see Minho and Han talking.

Your lips downturned in a pout, wanting to go ask Jisung what was wrong; had you done something to upset him?

Jisung was nowhere to be found at the start of the next movie, and you ended up sitting by Minho although you had preferred to be by the quokka boy.

He ended up coming into the living room a little later and sat himself in between Hyunjin and Changbin.

You kept trying to look at him, but his eyes didn't even meet yours.

A week or two had passed before you were at the studio with the guys and a couple of other groups for a company party after the boys chart topped again.

The studio had been transformed into a festive space, with twinkling lights and decorations celebrating Stray Kids' big win. The atmosphere is electric with excitement as everyone gathered around, multiple groups mingling and chatting and laughing.

You’d been trying to catch Jisung’s attention all night, but he seemed to be deliberately keeping his distance. And it made your heart droop.

The celebratory dinner was in full swing, and the members of Stray Kids, smiles bright and spirits high as they were congratulated.

You lingered in the corner closest to the guys, as you had been a previous staff member through the company, but after forming a friendship that JYPE had considered a "conflict of interest" was moved to help work with trainees. After a while switching jobs. But you were constantly around now after the boys pulled a few strings.

It helped others liked you as well, those same friends you had made keeping you company while you silently wondered why Jisung was slowly pulling himself away.

"Y/N-ie aren't you special being so close with the guys!" One of the TWICE girls squealed.

The studio, usually a place of hard work and intense practice, felt warm and celebratory tonight. And you knew that had to be relief, to change the environment of something that had a somewhat burdening connotation.

You tried to join in the festivities, but your eyes keep drifting towards Jisung. He stood a little bit away from the group, engaging in polite conversation but never quite letting himself get pulled into the fun. And always making sure to be around his members.

But away from you.

It was frustrating and confusing. You missed him even though he was right there.

You found yourself nursing drink after drink, not realizing the purpose of your drinking was based on the hope of the alcohol's ability to dull the ache in your chest. As the night wore on, you became increasingly tipsy, your laughter louder and your movements less coordinated. The girls you were around didn't notice the change in your behavior, as they were also moving towards a state of total inebriation.

Jisung was in the middle of an animated story, drawing laughter from everyone.

Just like he always does...

You forced yourself to smile, though your mind was elsewhere as you sipped on something you had grabbed randomly, not sober enough to even identify the flavors.

One of the boys from another group had gotten past the point of formalities and was yelling in his sunbae's ear.

"WHERE'S YOUR GIRLFRIEND?" He yelled, spilling his drink slightly on his shoes, his mouth opening in an "O". He looked up and spotted you. "LOOOK THERE-" He said pointing at you. "Takeeee her on a DATE." He said, his cheeks red from yelling.

Minho looked bewildered, and slightly disrespected, but turned to you and noticed you staring down at your drink.

She's drunk. He thought. He looked over to find Jisung, wondering if he'd be up to take you into an empty practice room to rest.

“You should take Y/N to that new café she loves. It’s got her favorite pastries,” Jisung suggests suddenly.

Minho blinked, caught off guard by the younger male's comment. Jisung’s eyes flicker towards Minho, a hint of sadness flashing in them before he quickly looked away again plastering a smile on his face.

Minho laughed uncomfortably, looking at him. “Really?” He scratched his head as Jisung sipped on his drink thoughtfully.

"She's single, you're single. She's beautiful, you guys could work."

Across the room you looked at Minho and Jisung talking and wobbled your way over.

Minho was confused at this point. "Jisung what are you-"

"What are you guys talking about?" You blurted out, wanting Jisung to look at you; just give you the smallest acknowledgement of your presence.

"Date ideas for you and Minho!" The drunk guy blurted out. You turned your head.

"Who are you?" You asked curiously.

Minho sighed. "Y/N you're drunk." He turned to Jisung. "Jisu-"

"So you like the cafe down the street?" The guy asks. "Minho is gonna take you there for a date. He said so."

Minho acknowledged in refusal. "Hey, no I didn't!"

"And Jisung was giving ideas, right?"

You looked at Han, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Han, seemingly oblivious to the tension, continues enthusiastically. His face turned downwards. “There’s that park you love to go to. It’s really peaceful there. You should take her, Minho.” He said turning to his hyung once more.

You glanced at Jisung, hoping he’ll say something, anything, to take back those words. But instead he just sips his drink, his gaze again averted.

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, the threads of your love for him starting to fringe in fear.

The night continued with you feeling more and more isolated, despite being surrounded by friends. You had made yourself exit the conversation when Jeongin pulled you to come try something.

Jisung's avoidance cut deeper than you’d like to admit, so instead you busied yourself with other things.

The alcohol in your system only amplified your emotions, and you found yourself getting more and more tightly wound at everything Jisung did; or didn't do.

You tried to push the feelings down, but they bubbled to the surface, making you feel even more miserable. You stumbled slightly as you got up from the ground you and Tzuyu were occupying, deciding to get some air.

You stepped outside, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin, bringing a moment of clarity. You leaned against the wall, tears welling up in your eyes.

Why was Jisung acting this way? What did you do wrong?

Were you in the wrong for loving him?

Was he avoiding you to break your heart gently?

It wasn't working, in fact this seemed almost worse than an outright rejection.

Back inside, Chan noticed your absence and nudged Jisung. “Where did Y/N go? She was looking pretty upset.”

Minho overheard and frowned.

Jisung couldn't hide the fact that he had been keeping tags on you.

"She went outside a couple of minutes ago to get fresh air."

"Has she come back?" Chan asked worridely.

Jisung looked at his watch. "...No."

“I’ll go check on her.” Chan said patting Jisung's shoulder once and setting his bottle of water down.

Minho walked over towards Jisung. "Ya, what's your problem?"

Jisung's eyes widened, "Di-Did I do something wrong Hyung?" His boba eyes widened. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing to me pabo. Apologize to Y/N."

Jisung frowned slightly. "What?"

"I said apologize to Y/N. Its not fair that you-"

Chan rushed back in. He was urgent yet calm. "Jisung, call Y/N, yeah?"

Minho's brow furrowed as Chan waited calmly for Jisung to call you.

Seungmin pulled a buzzing phone out of his pocket and made his way over. "Y/N-ie's phone is ringing."

Chan's eyes widened slightly. "Jisung, how long ago did Y/N step outside."

The wide eyed boy felt his nerves start to fray. "What?"

"How long?" He asked softly, motioning Felix over.

"Like...like 10...10...like 10 minutes?" He mumbled, "Why...is she....where did she? Channie hyung is she...?"

Chan squeezed Jisung's shoulder. "She's okay, I'm sure she just wandered off."

His voice is calm...too calm.

"Wandered? Hyung what do you mean wandered? What do you mean? What do you mean? Hyung what do you mean?" Jisung's nerves were static with energy, and his fingers stretching in and out in a frantic rhythm. He grabbed his hyung's jacket sleeve.

"She couldn't have gotten far by foot, she's plastered." Felix commented.

Jisung squeezed Chan's sleeve. "That doesn't matter what if someone kidnapped her." He cried, making his way towards the door.

The night breeze hit him harshly. He clutched his jacket to his body.

Felix was right you couldn't have gone far...

A he prepared to run in search of you, you popped up in front of him, coming to wards him from the side of the building.

He let out a breath of relief and made his way over to you.

"Y/N are you hurt?" He grabbed your face and looked at it.

"No, I just had to throw up."

"Oh."

He slowly pulled his hands away and wiped them on his pants.

You looked at him for a couple of seconds and then your eyes moved behind to Minho and Chan who were making their way near.

"You found her, good." Chan said. "I brought water," He handed you a bottle of water but when you struggled to open the cap your lip started to tremble, and you felt your emotions hit their highest peak of the night.

"Han Jisung you...you..." You cried out. "You...you utter...you utter..."

Jisung's eyes widened.

"You utter JERK!" Your wails caught the attention of people passing by in cars.

Chan couldn't help but laugh, as did a chuckle escape Minho.

"Y/N..."

"You're a jerk Han Jisung! And Minho you're a lying bitch!" You cried pointing your painted finger at your friend. "Channie is the only nice one!" You rushed into his arms and rubbed your snot on his jacket, as he patted your head softly.

"Why am I a bitch and you're only a jerk." Minho grumbles looking at his younger friend.

Jisung shrugged hesistantly.

"Channieeeeeeee, tell Jisung he's a jerk!" Your whines made Chris's chest vibrate with laughter. "And that he's dumb and mean!"

"Y/N, I'm sure you can find stronger vocabulary to aim at him." Minho's voice held a teasing lilt to it.

"N-No, because he's sensitive, I can't hurt his feelings."

Han messed with his sleeve.

There it is...that tone again...

"You can hurt his feelings, he can take it."

"I don't wanna." You pouted into Chan's chest, all of your tears suddenly dry.

Jisung's adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"You said he liked me back but he doesn't. He's trying to set me up with you, you liar."

It took a second to process.

Back...as in...reciprocating?

Chris let out a noise of surprise. "So...that's why things have been so tense between you two." He mused as he pet your hair.

"Yeah because Sunnie wanted to ignore me," Jisung was weirdly in love with the way your face was stained with tears, and your eyes glossed over in sadness.

It made him all the more want to be the one to paint the dusty pink onto your cheeks, and add stars into those wide eyes.

He stepped forward instinctively.

Minho raised his eyebrows at Chan, who lessened hi grip on you, although you decided to hold on to him a bit longer.

"I don't feel good-"

You hurled once more, and Chan just barely missed getting vomit on his shoes. Although that didn't matter to him, his first priority was to make sure you were safe and healthy.

"You get it all out, sweetheart?" Your sleeve became damp as you wiped your mouth, your lipstick now completely gone.

"I'm sleepy..." You murmured.

"Then let's get you home, okay?"

You nodded, your eyes half lidded, and you reached your hands out for Chan to carry you. "Home."

Jisung stood behind as Chan lifted you up with a small grunt as you clung to him like a koala. Your eyes met Jisung's over his shoulder and you reached your hand out.

His heartstrings pulled, and he felt drawn to you, your fingers intertwining as he followed you and Chan to your apartment.

"Do you really not like me."

She sounds so sad...

"That's not it at all Y/N."

"Then why...Minho is a bully, he always messes up my hair. I can't kiss him! Its like kissing my mom's child!" You shot Chan an evil glare when his body shook with laughter.

"So you see Minho as a brother, not a lover?" Chan prodded, discreetly trying to clear the doubts and worries he knew were swarming in Jisung's head. And trying to get you to more outwardly confess your feelings; since he knew you and Jisung would go together very well.

He had known it when you guys had first met.

"Uh...I don't claim Minho as my brother sometimes 'cause he's a bully but sometimes he is my brother but we don't have the same mom, just so you know he's just...because we're friends but I don't want to kiss him he's my brother, but he also is a bully, but like a nice bully like how an older brother would bully you."

Your voice was even, as you explained your thoughts as if you explaining quantum mechanics.

You played with the boy you love's hand. Your intrested piqued at a silver ring on his index finger.

"But Jiji is my best friend and I want to kiss him sometimes so..."

You continue playing with his hand, and the chubby cheeked boy couldn't help but giggle.

"You want to kiss me sometimes?"

"No. Not sometimes...all the time. I lied."

Chan let out another laugh as he stepped up to your building complex.

"Jisung, open the door will you?" Jisung opened the door and pressed the elevator buttons, and entered your code. The two boys stepped into the apartment and Chan gently rested you on the couch, grabbing the bathroom trash can to set aside you if case you needed it.

"I'm assuming you're going to stay here tonight?" Chan asked quietly as he tucked a throw blanket over you.

"Yeah..."

"Hmm." He set your unfinished bottle of water next to you, your breaths even as you had already fallen asleep. "Get her some Advil, and make sure she stays on her side. I can bring you a change of clothes, unless you have some here already?" The smirk was audible in the Aussie's voice.

"I'll steal one of her hoodies, and I think I have a pair of shorts somewhere."

Chan raised an eyebrow.

"Hyung! It's not like that!" Jisung whined.

"I know it's not." He looked at his first child. "But someday it might be. I know you tend to overlook things, or be oblivious, but Ji...talk to her. Drunk actions are sober thoughts. It's not fair for you to ignore her because you're trying to ignore your feelings. From the sound and looks of it it's been bothering her that you won't pay her the decency to at least get a look into what you're struggling with, especially since it pertains to her."

There was a silence in the air, a tense silence.

"Hyung..."

The small clock you had in your living room ticked fast; just like Han's heart.

"I'm scared."

Chris nodded. "It's scary."

"I'm scared to ruin things. To take that step into changing what we are. Right now...what I feel is already so strong, and I can't find the right words to tell her that. And the more I love her, the more I find those words leaving my mind. What if I can't properly tell her? What if I mess things up so badly? I already make stupid mistakes now and she doesn't even know I love her. Imagine what a mess I'm going to be when she knows that I can't even look at her without my stomach turning into knots. Its like I'm dependent on her Chan...I don't think I'd be able to breathe if she left, or if I..."

He watched as you snored softly on the couch, your hair falling into your face.

I love her so much it hurts.

Does she feel that hurt too?

You moved in your sleep slightly, you lips parting.

I love her.

I love her. I love her. I love her.

And it hurts.

But I'm selfish, so please let her hurt back too.

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♡𝙍𝙚: 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙭. 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚.♡

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

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@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

[athina-blaine]

had a lot going on with my latest dunmesh fic and wanted to share some of my thoughts here! ♥️✨️

So in Dungeon Meshi, dwarf names are based on gems, metals, and minerals, so Namari = lead, Daya = diamond, and then Cobre = copper! yay world building!!

I originally had Kabru say "several generations" here, but as the families in question are dwarves, it really wouldn't have even been a full generation when the issue in question had been officially resolved, hence, only a generation

Also, Sadena is one of the named dwarven cities that most closely borders the region where the majority of gnomes live on the Eastern Continent. yay more world building!!!

Dragon Age fans might recognize this as being loosely based on that one side quest in Origins, where two dwarven families were deceptively given the same deed for the same property. Hopefully it was just an honest mistake here!

I'm sure Senshi is crying somewhere as Laios cuts into the bread before giving it enough time to cool 😭 Generally, you should give bread about 30 min-1 hour to give it time to finish baking internally; this leads to a much flakier, crisp result. But it's sooo hard to resist fresh, warm bread, and Laios has a Kabru to feed!!

(no anecdotes i just really liked this line ♥️✨️)

So I really challenged myself to make my voice for Laios sound distinct from my voice for Kabru, and I ended up breaking a lot of personal writing rules in the meantime, haha. With Laios, I stuck to more casual, informal language, used more adverbs, italics, and ellipses, made less of a point to mitigate repeated words, and applied a generous, generous spread of exclamation points. "?!" my most loathed ...

Originally, I had Laios using succubus saliva, however I have a plan for another fic involving succubi and didn't want to double dip 💖 I also just loved writing Laios getting to demonstrate his intelligence and continuing to use his knowledge of monsters to help people 🥺♥️

(i imagine kabru's internal reaction here looking like something close to those crazy reaction edits in those indian soap operas haha)

So this was a really sweet moment to write for Laios, but I just can't help but laugh at the image of Kabru being surprised one night with Laios having brought all his friends from all four corners of the world to sit Kabru down in the hot seat all night for what essentially amounts to an intervention about his poor diet. Only ever the best of intentions, that Laios!!

me writing laios from kabru's pov: the glow of the sun hugging the curve of his jaw, counting out each delicate, individual eyelash, the twist of his lips as his amber eyes danced with delight-

me writing kabru from laios' pov: p ... pretty 🥺♥️

[scentedpepper]

Oranges

EDDIE MUNSON X MALE READER

Summary: This HAS to be Eddie's year.

Content Warnings: (Spolier) Character Death

Other Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Fuck ya'll for making it cringe to like eddie

On other, more important notes, some background info and sincere warnings for ya:

This scene takes place s4 era. Reader graduated last year (s3) currently 18 going on 19. Felt like this was important to note given that our dear little failure here is a grown ass man and it'd be a tad bit strange to pair the little fucker with a highschool student.

Reader works as an intern at the school, hence, Eddie Munson.

Could possibly turn into a series (I have big dreams and not enough energy)

For those of you who have NOT seen s3, you will get spoiled by the end of this little thang so yk proceed with caution or wtv

Ummmmm

Oh right so, I know it says x Reader but this scene was in fact written with the intentions of putting an OC into the series. So for now, you're Joey.

That's it 🫶

_________________________________________

"No- No! See? This is- 'and it is'. Use an adverb to explain the connection and create... emotion. "

Eddie sinks in his own posture and slides a hand over his face, knocking his fringe sideways and out of the way. They have been at this for a while, and he's had enough. "You're not connecting the dots like I'm connecting the dots. "

"Those are literally dots. " Joey gestured towards the piece of paper that sat between them, littered with penmarks, of Eddie's choosing. He couldn't quite decphier why the man was lazily scratching the paper with color in certain areas. He peered closer at the margin on the left, words written across the blank surface that seemed made up. "How are you gonna connect something that wasn't written... this is an argumentative essay, Eddie. You're not allowed to just make up facts. " He wants to jab those pens underneath his eyelids. "What're all these marks for?"

"Alright, say, say this little orange, " Joey watches Eddie move his pen towards the tiny round doodle with squinted eyes, "what if it was in an orange?"

He's going to fail this.

Joey stares at the man unimpressed. "I've been sitting here trying to teach you how to write an arugmentative analysis on an article for the last hour, and you're drawing oranges on your paper?"

"With faces!" Eddie counters, pointing his orange pen– Joey's orange pen in the opposites face.

Joey snatches the pen from his hand abruptly and drops it, clattering down and across the wooden floor.

The pair of them have only gotten so far in this session of teaching. 'This session' being 1.5 hours, and Eddie had yet to pick up on the technique Joey had used to teach himself the tricks and secrets to these things years ago. Though, maybe he was giving him too much credit. The way the doe eyed mans head tilts to the side when he goes to the page and scans the lines for his answer seemed too much to bear.

They're in his trailer, surrounded by textbooks on the table that once belonged to Joey. This place, now that their studying system wasn't some figment of Joey's imagination brought to life, was a lot messier than he'd have liked it. But Munson came first.

Eddie wasn't dumb. Far from it, really. But in this moment he was. Maybe not, if you don't count the fact he wasn't listening. For the last hour. Or two. Joey definitely couldn't count because that sounded too depressing and he really did need to rethink his strategy.

"Sometimes doing homework is like sticking a fork in an electric socket. "

Nancy's words, not his, but either way he believes that now as well.

Joey stared at the older man's frame as he lay with his back against the rug on the carpet, eyes closed, another pen, teal, or at least the closests thing to it, hanging out of his mouth and some paper resting next to the upper half of his body.

"Eddie. "

"Yes, kind sir?" He quickly gets up, the second he hears his voice. He rests his arms on top of the surface of the round coffee table. "I'm totally paying attention, go on. "

Joey manages a breath before he rips the pen from Eddie's mouth and places it aside. Eddie gaped like a fish for a few moments too long and then took his pen back.

"You can't draw oranges in an analysis essay, please pay attention. "

Joey can feel his hair stand on end when he turns back to the English work.

"Yeah but hear me out, everyone is an orange. "

Joey's eyes flee back up to the man. "Eddie–" He protests.

"Just..." The man's mouth opens and a hint of an apology graces his soft facial structure but is soon replaced by his stubborn stance, his leg jolts slightly with his arms as he pushes his palms forward to the table. "C'mon. I'm smart, right?"

"...Yes?"

Eddie smiles triumphantly. His hair, resting in beautiful knots beside his ears. "Think about it. " He puts a finger up to his temple, tapping it twice. "People are oranges, and each orange is unique. Alike, but totally different. Maybe the ones with the nugget are rotten, or they taste more bitter or whatever. But someone likes 'em–"

"For their orange flavour?"

"Orange flavour. " Eddie grins at him. Joey has his suspicions about that grin.

"Sure, Ed. " He picks up his pencil and twists it around. "Now sit down. " He deadpans, eyes scanning the book passage in front of him.

Nonetheless, Eddie prevales. "You're my favorite orange. "

Joey gives him a look, his features remaining blank but there's a strange– almost longing tension to his jaw.

"You know why?" He drags out the last word while simultaneously circling the others nose with the orange pen he'd reterived without notice before giving the tip of the mans nose a prompt 'boop!'. "Because. "

A pause. Longer than Joey would have liked.

"..What?"

His eyes trace down his face.

"You're bigger. "

"Bigger?" He stares down the man incredulously. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means–!" Eddie's eyes turn back into his and he smiles coyly, "that you give me bigger... biggaaa— heart boners. Every time we are alone. Y'know? Just us. " He pauses to watch the anger burning in the others eyes, "You... bein' all tall and broad and... strong. "

The end of his sentence is like a purr but it lacked the proper 'o' sound to make the word seductive. –The ridiculous flexing didn't do much to help him either.

"Heart boners?" Joey cracks a smile, unable to keep his face muscles strewn tight. "Jesus. Shut up. "

"We could play house. I wouldn't mind being a house wife. " Eddie tucks his hair behind his ear, sitting pretty. His eyes reflect a perverse joy.

In turn, Joey rolls his eyes, teeth peaking out from beneath his lips. "Analysis first –then you can cook and clean for me all you want. "

Not a minute later does Eddie get on his knees before lunging forward, throwing his arm around his shoulder and ruffling the brunettes hair. Joey struggles, laughter spilling out in unsteady puffs of air. "Hey, what the hell is your problem?!"

Eddie let's him loose after a few more moments of struggle and the sight Joey offers makes him beam. "It's nice to see you smile. " He admits. "You've been all, edgy, lately. "

Once again, it's always so very easy to lose this man's train of thought with simple distractions such as putting his hair up in a high bun and pushing stray strands behind his ears.

"Used to be all kind smiles and doe eyes. "

Somethings got to give.

"Ever since the mall fi–"

"Didn't realize you paid so much attention to me, Eddie. " He interrupts.

"Well, you just make it so hard not to. " Eddie grins widely at him, his eyes practically twinkling.

Eddie tries not to get too sore over things. Least of all with Joey. Especially since he's got a knack for tip toeing his way out of things himself. Today isn't the day for that, apparently. Because Eddie isn't having it. Which is annoying.

"Look, " he tries again, "I'm not saying you have to –ya know? Say anything. You've just been different...than before. "

That much he knows, Eddie's always noticed things. Because that's who he is and all the time he spent to by himself over the course of his many highschool years has taught him to be an observer, and it just so happened that he had the knowledge to tell when and how things were off.

But there was always something about the way the brunette carried himself, stiff on his feet and jittery like a trapped mouse, no one gave it much thought.

Not even Eddie really.

"You didn't even know me before, Eddie. " Joey's looking at the man with tired eyes, he wonders where his reasoning is coming from. Had they talked more? And how did he manage to create this image of him into a person he had no inkling of a memory towards?

"Hey, I beg to differ. " Eddie counters, "I've known you for like..." He counts on his fingers, recalling he was supposed to garduate two years before Joey. "Six years!"

Joey scoffs. "And out of all those years, we've only had a real conversation in these past few months. "

Eddie goes a little quiet after that.

"So you can wipe that memory of... whatever you have in your head. " His chest swells with an unwelcome pain and he holds his breath.

The man doesn't waver. "Thats not how this works. " His brows furrow, etching serious lines into his forehead. "I've seen you. You've changed since then. "

"No I haven't. " Joey's gaze flickers towards the man, eyes stern but deep within them stir the turbulent anger Eddie had become quite familiar with his whole life.

"You have. " Eddie continues. "Your laughs not as loud, " He gestures vaguely towards the brunettes chest. "You seem more sad than, -than you usually are? Is what I mean..."

Eddie draws his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down nervously.

"Eddie, just drop it. " He's turning in his place, pulling one foot beneath him on the floor as his butt brushes the fabric beneath his thighs.

Eddie goes silent but for only a few minutes because without much reluctance he's lifting the forgotten orange pen from the wooden floorboard again and twirling it between his fingers.

"...Joey. " He says softly after a few long moments. "This town's shitty. "

And if he'd said this to the man about a year ago, he wouldn't have agreed. But now, he feels like he's being stabbed in the chest at the mere sight of it.

Eddie, himself, makes him forget sometimes. The bad and all it's misery.

He's not all that happy about that.

Not as much as he should be. Would've been.

"You know, I'm here. " Eddie leans in a bit, in hopes his friends words along with his guts may spill right out from him, "As much as you are for me with these–" He lifts one from the table before promptly letting it fall from his fingertips. "shitty textbooks. "

Joey swallows roughly, the lump in his throat straining but after a few seconds, he can't help it.

He lets out a long sigh, containing himself all in one breath. "I knew someone..." He starts slow and doesn't seem keen on finishing.

"In the mall fire?"

A huff this time. "Yes– the mall fire. " It felt funny to adress it as such. A false statement.

He feels tense all over, skin rubbing against the denim pants he wore like sandpaper against dry wood.

"My friend–" He pauses to scoff. "If you could even call the asshole that. " And of course, he's still trying to conceal it, the fact that those months apart had been the worst months of his life.

Billy. Fucking, Hargrove. Who would've thought he'd end up on his mind so often?

"He– passed. " The words come out heavy, sitting cold on his tongue and tasting bitter when the admission leaves him. "In the fire. "

Bullshit. Fucking fire. Really?

...

[spanishskulduggery]

Hello:

This is a nuance question. What are the minor differences between tan, tanto, cuán, and lo (adjetivo)poder ser a (sustantivo) when modifying "to an extent" something is?

There's a pattern to these words that can help

Typically the question words have a QU or C sound; and the descriptors here have the T

The question words can sometimes be used as other parts of speech, but the questions or implied unknowns will have accent marks

This will make more sense below

-

First, tal and cual - used to describe nouns, or sometimes become nouns themselves:

tal = such, such as / "one such" [noun] tales = such, such as / "some such" [plural noun]

cuál = which? / which one cuáles = which (ones)? / which ones? [plural]

(el/la) cual = the one (in particular), the one that/which, one such cual = as [in poetry; synonymous with como, very unusual]

If you're seeing tal and cual you're seeing nouns for the most part; tal is "such" or "like that" and cuál is more common with the accent mark or in a relative clause

De tal manera... = In that way... / In such a way... De tal palo, tal astilla. = "Chip off the old block" / "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree" [lit. "from such a (wooden) stick, such a splinter"] Escribe sobre la vida tal y cómo es. = "He/She writes about life exactly how it is." [tal y cómo is literally "such and how" but often means "exactly so/as"] Tal leyenda no me interesa. = A legend like that doesn't interest me. / Such a legend doesn't interest me.

There's also an expression Fulanito/a de Tal which is very idiomatic but it's a made up placeholder name like "Mr/Mrs Whoever from Wherever"... fulano/a is basically "someone you don't know their actual name", and de Tal is "from Such" so it comes out as "What's-their-name from Wherever"

...You see this in contexts where someone knows nothing about the person, or they mean so little to them that they can't be bothered to learn their name

You will also see this expression:

(son) tal para cual = "they were made for each other" / "a match made in heaven"

You say this about people who are very much alike

...

Now as for cual you get into questioning words; an unknown noun but specific

If tal is "such", cuál with the accent mark is qué + tal meaning "what such"... aka "which one"

¿Cuál es? = Which one is it? ¿Cuáles son? = Which one are they?

Seeing cual without the accent mark is most commonly used in what they call relative clauses - it's a clause within a sentence that gives more specific information "related" to what noun you just brought up:

Esa torre es la Torre Eiffel, la cual es el edificio más conocido de Francia. = That tower is the Eiffel Tower, which is the most well-known building in France. El amor, el cual es un tema muy importante para muchísimos autores y poetas, sigue siendo expresado y discutido en el arte de todas formas. = Love, which is a very important theme for MANY authors and poets, continues to be expressed and discussed/debated in art of all kinds.

Relative clause just means you decide to add a comma and talk about a specific noun (which could be a person, place, or thing) almost in an aside

You can also do relative clauses with el que and la que they're just more informal than el/la cual ...it's like saying "the one that" vs "the one which"

....

Also I should say cual can also be used as como in some poetry. It's really uncommon today but every so often in poetry you'll see it.

Like rojos labios cual carmín is the way they translated "lips that shame the red red rose" but it literally means "(VERY) red lips like carmine/vermillion" - it reads like very flowery writing, usually reserved for older things or fairy tales or something that feels antiquated

-

Next we move on to tan/cuán and tanto and cuánto/a and again there's a pattern

tan/cuán work with adjectives and adverbs as "so much" and "how much"

And tanto/a and cuánto/a work with nouns as "so many" and "how much/many?"

...

But actually first let me say you will NEVER have to use cuán for "how much + adjective/adverb"; it is considered very archaic and only appears in lyrics and poetry. The only time I've ever seen it was in the translation for Pocahontas in Colors of the Wind:

¿Cuán alto el árbol crecerá? = "How high does the sycamore grow?" [lit. "how high will the tree grow?"]

But from that you can say it's "how much" in terms of "to what extent" - if you're using adjectives you use them agreeing with the gender/plurality

More to the point though, what you actually use depends on region and thankfully it's pretty evenly between Spain and Latin America, and reasonably understandable what you're saying/hearing regardless so no one's really confused it's just a difference in region:

Latin America will use qué tan (which is a deconstructed cuán), and Spain prefers cómo de which is more like "to what extent"

¿Qué tan alto es el árbol? = How tall is the tree? ¿Qué tan alta es la montaña? = How high is the mountain? ¿Cómo de alto es el árbol? = How tall is the tree? ¿Cómo de alta es la montaña? = How high is the mountain? ¿Qué tan lejos? = How far (away)? [adv] ¿Cómo de lejos? = How far (away)? [adv]

And again adverbs won't need to agree; ¿qué tan rápido/a? is "how fast" for example as an adjective, but ¿qué tan rápido? by itself could be "how quickly?"; same with cómo de - only difference is that's for Spain

And cuánto is used for amounts, "how much/many?"

¿Cuánto cuesta? = How much does it cost? ¿Cuánta comida hay? = How much food is there? ¿Cuántos hombres? = How many men? ¿Cuántas mujeres? = How many women? No sabes cuánto te quiero. = You don't know how much I love you. [cuánto here as a noun is like "the (unknown) amount"]

PS en cuanto + subjunctive is "as soon as + subjunctive"; don't worry about it for right now, but every so often you see a cuanto with no accent mark

...

So on to tan and tanto/a, same general distinction

tan is "so/quite/very" used with adjectives and adverbs, and tanto/a is often done with nouns and countable things

Eres tan listo. = You're so smart. Eres tan lista. = You're so smart. Son tan listos. = They're so smart. Son tan listas. = They're so smart. Hay tanta ropa. = There's so much clothing. / There's so many clothes. Hay tanto peligro. = There's so much danger. Tenemos tantos problemas. = We have so many problems. Tenemos tantas personas. = We have so many people.

It's really the same difference between mucho/a and muy

With comparisons, you use tan or tanto with como. The important thing here is that these are expressions of equality or equivalence, rather than "more/better" or "less/worse" that you'd see with más/mejor and menos/peor.

Es tan listo como ella. = He's as smart as she is. Es tan lista como él. = She's as smart as he is. Son tan listos como ellas. = They're as smart as they [f+f] are. Son tan listas como ellos. = They're as smart as they are. Sus libros no son tan famosos como sus poemas. = Their books aren't as famous as their poems. Sus películas no son tan famosas como sus obras de teatro. = Their movies aren't as famous as their theatrical works.

tanto como is more used as "(someone) as well as (someone else)" or "(something) as much as (something else)"... usually in the context of something pertaining to or affecting something/someone, or just overall "involvement"

Tanto yo como mis colegas... = Myself as well as my colleagues... Tanto tú como tus amigos... = (Both) You as well as your friends...

And you use it to compare equal amounts of things with others:

Tienen tanto dinero como yo. = They have as much money as I do. Tienen tanta influencia como nosotros. = They have as much influence as we do. Tengo tantos amigos como amigas. = I have as many (male) friends as (female) friends. Tengo tantas amigas como amigos. = I have as many (female) friends as (male) friends.

You can also see tanto as an amount like "as much" or "so much" just a plain noun, or an adverb like saying no tanto "not so much" or "not really"

And then there's mientras tanto which is "meanwhile" [lit. "while as/so much"]

-

And I'm not entirely sure what you mean by lo in context with comparisons so I'd probably need more context

I'm used to seeing things like lo más antes posible "as soon as possible" or "the soonest possible", or lo más imporante "the most important thing"

Also lo máximo/mínimo que as like "the most/least that (+ something else)"

[domini-porter]

“today’s words brought to you, as always, by the notes app”

As always?? AS ALWAYS?? I don’t know why I can’t get over this. This is the second time I’ve seen you mention the Notes app and I continue to be mystified. Like I write on my phone sometimes, but only by necessity and always in Google docs. But the Notes app?? Does it have secret functionality I’m not aware of? Can you make comments or notations? Can you backtrack several sentences with an undo command? Is there an intermediary stage where you edit on a computer or does it go straight from the notes app to “Add Chapter”? This must be what Salieri felt like (minus the murderous part).

Anyway.

Uh.

Keep up the good work. In the Notes app. Where you do all your writing.

NOTES APP GANG

I’ve written almost exclusively in the Notes app since there was a Notes app to write in! Something about having to sit at a computer changes writing from Fun to Work. I think it’s my academic history plus the misery of the random desk jobs I’ve had? But with good ol’ Notey I can sit on my back porch drinking iced americanos for hours while I daydream about my OTP. Bliss!

And nope, no extra functionality (if anything, I wish it had both a little more and a little less, like, I’d love to be able to add words to the dictionary, and why is there a table function in a text app? and why does my thumb hit it all the time?). I’m a pretty undisciplined writer in that I just brain-dump a chapter in one go, usually without outlining or anything; one of my favorite things about writing big stories is typing an unexpected sentence that means there’s suddenly a B-plot or twist I wasn’t anticipating. It’s not necessarily wise, or good writing practice, but it’s sure exhilarating! (I do think constantly about the story, though, and do a lot of mental composition, so often it’s more like transcription than creation when I sit down to write.)

The only sort of outline or broad story note I keep is a list of all the character names, since there are so many, and I either need to avoid repetition or remember what minor characters might continually reappear (all the rich families, for example).

In general I have maybe a line of dialogue or a mental image I build stuff around, and a loose idea of how I want the plot to move forward. I usually don’t know specifics until I’m reading the thing I just wrote, which lets me know what happens next. Very wild magic-esque, which is again fun to do, but also pretty risky, because what if I decide something in Chaper 4 that I have to remember in Chapter 18? Or someone says something in Chapter 9 that recontextualizes something from Chapter 5? What about the overall pacing? I don’t even have a sense of how long they’ll be (other than “long”). Fortunately, I re-read things to a neurotic degree, and have the great good luck of living with a person who loves to talk endlessly about the process with me, which keeps it all fresh.

Which is also where the Notes app comes back in! There’s a strong appeal about it being so immediate—the words are constrained on a smaller screen, and I type them one-thumbèdly, which is way slower than with all the fingers, so it’s easier for me to stay locked into one scene or beat. And all the previous stuff is just a back-tap away, when I need to reference it! I also read fic exclusively on my phone, so seeing it the same format while I’m writing forces my brain into that context more easily.

I do use a computer to post new stuff! I’ll copy the chapter into Word (I am an Old), but just to see the word count, and to save it in a master document. I do chapter posting on a computer too, because of the stupid paragraph-break formatting in the AO3 text editor. I mostly edit as I write, though when the whole story is done I’ve taken to going back and editing it like one would a traditional manuscript (indents instead of line breaks, being mean to myself about my love of adverbs, etc)(this also means I have the stories in novel form, if anyone wants to have a copy).

Basically, I’m a lawless brain-dumper who does no due diligence! I have a lot of admiration for writers who have discipline; I constitutionally do not. For example, I love reading about your process! It’s so different from mine, but it gets results, and it’s fascinating to see how other writers approach their work!

[oswaldthatendswald]

for the fic writer ask thing:

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

How do you choose which POV to write from?

Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

Oh, these are great questions actually. Possibly too good. This is going to be so long, I'm sorry, they're just really interesting!

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?

Yeah, absolutely. The words and expressions I use most tend to change over time, and I try to cut out repetition in editing, but at the moment I'm finding myself writing "even as", "just", and "ever" way too often. I'm also in perpetual battle with my overuse of "seems". I also use a lot of em dashes and adverbs-- but I'm a staunch defender of adverbs actually.

I think I have a pretty consistent set of themes I work with, tbh. Family, both chosen and biological, is the big one. Guilt, justice, and atonement (or punishment, whether deserved or otherwise). Trauma, obviously (it's kind of built into One Piece).

It's not so much an issue anymore, but back when I was writing "Somewhere to be Safe", I think I complained a lot to my partner about how many of the scenes were emotional conversations happening while eating or preparing a meal. It's like every second chapter. Her response was something like "if you do it often enough, it becomes a metaphor". I've moved away from that setting now, but you can definitely see it pop up elsewhere in my fics. It's a really useful setting for conversations, because it allows for movement through the scene, moments of characterization, and light humour, all within a setting that is familiar enough to the reader that it becomes invisible if you do it right-- everyone has to eat, after all.

I'll put the rest under the cut!

How do you choose which POV to write from?

I'll be honest, I was going to just say "the vibes" and then I started actually thinking about it. And then I realized this was going to take so long to explain and I'm real sorry. It is partly the vibes, I'll admit, but I'll come back to that, because the main thing that affects the POV is what information I want to provide to or conceal from the reader. Spoilers ahead for chapters two and three of Cry Havoc, because I need an example to explain this.

Chapter two of Cry Havoc has a section from Nami's POV, which I attributed to my desire to describe the characters' outfits, and mostly Cora's redesign-- which is true. It also does a good job of reminding the reader how the characters look from an outside perspective. But the main purpose of that scene was actually to describe Cora's coat, which was going to become a... not quite motif, but significant object. I prefer to introduce things before they become important, if I can, so I brought it up as soon as I could. Might there have been a less clunky way to do so? Absolutely, but a) I'm not an expert writer by any means and b) I really did want to cover Cora's new outfit. It was a two birds with one stone sort of thing. Besides, I ended up coming back to Cora's outfit in a later chapter (not yet published), so that ended up being important information too!

Concealing information is a lot easier to do smoothly and to explain. Chapter three is entirely from Law's perspective in order for the audience to be taken off guard by Cora's decision just as much as he is. This was supposed to be a shocking and slightly distressing turn of events, but putting it from Cora's perspective would have let the audience know much too soon that he was going to do something stupid. In this instance, Law and the reader know the same amount, so (if I did my job right) they're both caught off guard by the turn of events. I've also used POVs of characters who know less than the reader to build dramatic irony (Bepo and Shachi, to different extents, in chapter one of Cry Havoc). Going back to providing information, I'll use the internal monologue of a character who knows more than the audience (usually Cora) to give information, often about worldbuilding or backstory elements that I've invented for the fic.

But there is definitely an element of "vibes" (here meaning tone and mood) at play as well. For example, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin usually have about the same amount of information, so if I want to use one of them as the POV, the determining factor is the emotional state or reactions I want the perspective to present to the audience. Penguin is the oldest, the most leveleheaded, and the most anxious, so he can present a tenser or more serious atmosphere, but he's also the most responsible, so I've used him as a more neutral POV (such as in the first chapter of No Other Life). Shachi is more hotheaded but also more inclined to humour; while he might push a tense atmosphere past Penguin's nervous mood and into outright conflict, he's also a good option for more lighthearted scenes (this does not often occur in my fics). Bepo is... okay, I actually have a lot of trouble writing Bepo's POV. I've only written from his perspective once. This was a bad example.

As a note to clarify: I don't usually think about this very much. A lot of this is pretty intuitive for me, and not stuff I actively have to consider. For me, there is usually a "correct" POV for a scene or section, and when I have writers block a common problem is that I've picked the "wrong" perspective. A major part of my planning is which POVs go where-- which is pretty crucial for Cry Havoc, given how many new POVs I'm playing with.

Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

I have two pretty distinct modes of writing. The first is for some of my oneshots (sub ~1500 words). These are usually produced by a bolt of inspiration and a single concept-- a specific image, an event in my life, an object, what have you. Usually, I sit down and write these in one sitting when they occur to me (which takes an hour or two), but sometimes I'll have to sit with the concept for a while before I write it. I do about two rounds of editing on these before posting.

The other mode, for most of my writing, is a process of months. I have an idea for a story, and then I spend as much time as I need to refining it. (I'll often do a lot of this work without ever writing anything down, because I have a bad habit of giving up on fics that I plot out by hand.) Most of these are chaptered fics, but I do this for oneshots too, especially if I need to fit them into the series. Giving myself time to work on the story without writing anything down lets me change my mind about how things go, work through different possibilities, and find elements from canon to build off of. (You have no idea how many different possibilities I went through for Cry Havoc before finally settling on a plot I felt was both satisfying and believable. Hell, I probably don't have any idea anymore-- I've been working on it since February, I've forgotten more story than I've written.)

When I'm actually ready to start writing, I have sort of a tiered process of planning. There's the loose spread of the overarching plot, then I try to break down maybe the next four or five chapters in what events I think they will cover (I am never, ever right about this and there will always be more chapters than I think). Then I plot out the next two or three chapters in scene-by-scene detail: this scene conveys this information/these events and is told from this perspective and then transitions into this scene, rinse and repeat. I don't write out of order; it just doesn't make sense for me. Sometimes I'll have an idea for a scene that occurs later in the story and I'll write it out, but I do so knowing that it will have to be adapted when I eventually get there, because the story is always in flux.

The reason I plan so carefully is partly foreshadowing: with a serialized story, I can't go back and add information, so I can only work up to a future plot beat if I know it's going to happen. The other piece of it is that I find if I don't know what the point of a scene is and where it's going, I get writer's block. That sounds really obvious when I'm writing out, but I used to be really resistant to plotting things out and I felt I wrote better when I could just go with the flow, but I never finished stories and I realized eventually it was because I didn't actually know what I was writing about. I need to know what I'm doing with a scene to be able to write it-- which scales upward, because scenes become chapters, and chapters become stories. If I don't know what I'm doing with one piece (ha), I probably don't know what I'm doing with the whole. It's like fractals, y'know?

Okay that was so much. Thank you very much for the questions-- obviously I had a lot of fun answering them!!!

[coquelicoq]

this post is brought to you by: la lettre A

i finished all 58 pages of the letter A in this french dictionary! and it only took me 18 days!!

knowing myself and how i work, if i want to actually keep this up long enough to finish the entire dictionary, i should celebrate this milestone with a look back at what i have learned and accomplished. (not that i actually need an excuse to ramble about words, but i'm not gonna turn one down lol.)

keep reading to learn exciting things such as: which french nouns for abstract concepts can be masculine OR feminine! which french playing card is idiomatically considered to have bad fashion sense! which prefixes are actually TWO prefixes meaning totally different things, the little fuckers! and more!!

first, some stats

percentage of dictionary taken up by A words: 7.6% (58/763)

percentage of dictionary read so far: 8.4% (counting the preface and abbreviations)

rate and duration: 3 pages/day for 18 days (approximately 1-2 hours per day)

total entries: 2304. note: this is not the same as the number of words defined (an entry will often contain derivations of the main word, such as adjectives and adverbs formed from a noun) or number of definitions (an entry will often define multiple senses of the same word)

rows added to my vocabulary spreadsheet: 214. these are not all of the words i didn't know, just the ones i want to prioritize learning. baby steps.

times i learned a word from the dictionary and then later that day encountered the same word in the wild: probably like ten times!

times i learned a word from the dictionary and then later that day encountered the same word in the wild and still knew what it meant: maybe four times lol

fun facts about A words!

you may have noticed that there are a lot of pages in the A section (relative to the mean, which would be about 29 pages/letter). this is primarily because some very productive prefixes start with this letter!

prefixes of note

a- (toward, to). eventually i managed to internalize that if there's a word i don't recognize that starts with an a, if i chop off the a (+ the following letter, if it's a doubled consonant) it will often leave me with another word i do recognize, and the a- word indicates some kind of movement toward the state or action indicated by the shorter word. the entry for a- (the second entry in the entire dictionary) told me this explicitly, but it didn't really sink in until like...yesterday lol. you'd think i would know better, from 1) taking latin (this prefix is from the latin word ad, meaning to), 2) having a form of this prefix in english as well, 3) knowing how prefixes work, etc., etc. but alas. i stay humble 😔

a(n)- (not, no, without). very fun when you have a letter which at the beginning of words can mean either "not [root]" or "becoming [root]". big shoutout to greek and latin for that.

it's interesting that this dico didn't have an entry for the ab- prefix (also from latin, the opposite of a-). ab rights!! (one of my favorite latin verbs is abesse, meaning "to be away". present participle: absens, absentis. look familiar???)

anté/anti- (before), from the latin ante, vs. anti- (against), from the greek anti. greek vs. latin strikes again!!!

apo- (away from, off). obviously english also has this prefix because french forced their lexicon upon us, but i hadn't actually put together before now that it was a prefix because i've never studied greek. so now i am doing the next best thing, learning about english by reading about greek in a dictionary about french.

archéo- (ancient) vs. archi- (chief, ruler). mostly notable because i used to be very distressed by the fact that the ch sound is pronounced differently in these two environments. but now i know (it's a k sound in archéo and an sh sound in archi)!

auto- (self) vs. auto- (related to road vehicles). i just love that the second one came from the first via back formation (from automobile), aka the popular girl of the morphological processes.

i wouldn't really call them prefixes, but avant (before), après (after), and arrière (behind, back) also all begin with A, and they are stuck in front of other words to make new hyphenated words, thus padding out the A section further.

page hogs

(entries taking up 1/6 of a page or more)

à

affaire

air

aller

appel

appuyer

art

attendre

avant

avoir

like you guys don't get enough attention already !

🤯 momence

accourir takes être as auxiliary in the compound tenses! are you seeing this shit!!! dr. & mrs. vandertramp is a LIE!!

guess what the verb alphabétiser means. did you guess "to alphabetize"? WRONG! it means to teach someone to read and write!!

in other "learning things about english by reading a french dictionary out loud" news: did u know that reMUNeration is a word? not just reNUMeration (which is also an accepted spelling), but reMUNeration. the m and then the n! what! how have i never noticed this in the past 34 years of my existence! some people may say it's strange to read the dictionary, but i think this proves i need to read MORE dictionaries actually. life is beautiful. consciousness is a miracle!!

the noun l'après-midi (afternoon) can be feminine or masculine! how do you pick? idk! gender anarchy! this just in: every afternoon is genderfluid hours selon les francophones!!

okay, here's a headscratcher. l'auriculaire (noun) means "pinky finger", but auriculaire (adjective) refers to the ear/hearing. the only explanation i can find for this is on french wikipedia, which is very [citation needed] and seems apocryphal at best. (and if that wasn't enough totally unrelated body parts for one word to be about for you, auriculaire can also refer to the chambers of the heart 😇)

mes bien-aimés

favorite words to pronounce

antipathie [ɑ̃tipati]

antiquité [ɑ̃tikite]

antithétique [ɑ̃titetik]

architecture [aʀʃitɛktyʀ]

association [asɔsjasjɔ̃]

au-delà [od(ə)la], especially with the article (l'au-delà [lod(ə)la])

authenticité [otɑ̃tisite]

autochtone [otoktɔn]

tous azimuts [tuzazimyt]

please listen to my one true love (voice reading french words on wordreference dot com) pronounce "association". crops watered etc.

least favorite words to pronounce are any that start with aéro-. consecutive vowel sounds and an r sound? sans façon, je m'abstiens 👍

FAVE WORDS PERIOD

une accolade: an embrace/a hug, or one of these guys: { }. is that not the cutest shit.

une agrafe: a staple. i've become very attached to this word for some reason. (haha, attached, get it)

un aimant: a magnet. i am SURE i knew this at some point but fortuitously i forgot all about it, allowing me to see it with fresh eyes and be delighted all over again. (aimant is the present participle of the verb aimer, meaning to love. therefore magnet = one who is loving 😫💘)

tu ne manques pas d'air ! : you've got some nerve! ooh, i just know this is going to come in handy.

[nom] par alliance: [noun]-in-law. i like this because une alliance is a wedding ring (and also, more directly, an alliance. but that's boring!).

une amphibologie: sentence or phrase that's grammatically ambiguous. obviously i'm all over this. cela va de soi.

ahaner: to puff and pant. i love this one because it's onomatopoeic (the h is silent, so you make two "ah" sounds in a row, like you're breathing out twice)!

french has a word meaning "person who goes on vacation in august" (it's aoûtien(ne), from août, meaning august). how fucking rad is that?

i love et alors ? (big deal), et après ? (so?, so what?), and j'en ai vu d'autres (I've seen worse). also à d'autres ! (yeah, right! or likely story! or (for the brits out there) pull the other one! or (this is not in any dictionaries but i am extrapolating) nice try but i wasn't born yesterday!)

avoir une araignée au plafond: to be a little cuckoo, to have bats in the belfry. literal translation: to have a spider on the ceiling. just reminds me of that classic tumblr post about nicolas ii the last czar of russia hanging from the ceiling fan. i know that post is about bad vision, but the vibes are there and that's what matters.

archi- is a prefix in words like architecture, but it can also be added to adjectives as a slangy intensifier meaning very, extremely, super.

mentir comme un arracheur des dents: lie through one's teeth, though the literal translation would be more like "lie like a tooth-puller". is this because dentists are always like "this will barely hurt at all"? (omg i just looked it up and found a source (reputability: unknown) that says exactly that)

arrondir [qqch]: round [sth] up/down. aw look, it's got "rond" right in there. and i like that you can use the same construction regardless of whether you're rounding up or down, because it's not actually necessary to specify.

habillé(e)/ficelé(e)/fichu(e) comme l'as de pique: dressed like a scarecrow, looking like something the cat dragged in. literal translation: dressed like the ace of spades. is the ace of spades known for looking bedraggled in french card decks?? dying to know.

un ascenseur is an elevator, but it can also mean scroll bar. that makes so much sense! they do look like little elevators!

accrocher means a lot of things but primarily to hang, hook, snag, grip, etc. (it's related to crochet, hook.) one of its figurative senses is to get along, click, hit it off. les atomes crochus is chemistry (between people)...literally "hooked atoms". avoir des atomes crochus avec [qqn] means to have a lot in common with [sb].

autant pour moi: my bad, silly me. apparently was originally "au temps pour moi". au the temps, they are a-changin...

l'auto-stop: hitchhiking! as far as i can tell, stop came from english, but it happened centuries ago, and this dictionary isn't marking it as an anglicism. i mostly think it's funny that french definitely couldn't adopt the word "hitchhike" (french has, like, two of those sounds in its phoneme inventory lol) but they still ended up with something that came from english but which their lexicographers are not acknowledging as having come from english. (canadians say faire du pouce which is also great)

faire avec: make do, get by. i love a preposition that doesn't take a complement! feels illicit. like we're being naughty. even though it's actually so accepted as to be included in an abridged dictionary for a language that has literal laws about which words not to use. i know, okay? just let me have this!

next up: 34 pages of la lettre B 👀👀

[ladyhindsight]

For a climactic point, it sure is boring. This chapter also holds a lot of quoting previous writing. Fun.

Clary is back at the helm. Jace had stunned her and she “comes back to consciousness in the marble lobby of a strange building, under the shadow of an unlit chandelier.” The chandelier has been described now by Simon and Clary. Jace brings Clary to the terrace and Clary finally sees Sebastian.

In the previous chapter, Simon also called it Snow White-esque scene. Glad to see the same descriptions circulating between the characters.

→ Second seaweed mention.

This kind of naivete and blind trust in a situation where Jace obviously is not himself will only get you hurt.

Oh, right. The poison. The poison for Kuzco, the poison chosen especially to kill Kuzco, Kuzco's poison. That poison?

→ How many times can you repeat the same information

Lilith then, once again, explains the plot, and Clary is shocked to find that their actions have consequences.

Again with the remembering. Also, loving this second moment of self-consciousness but as it amounts to nothing, it means nothing. Self-loathing and pity mean nothing.

→ There has never been given a reason why exactly it was kept secret. It’s not like Jace’s family ever crossed their minds. It’s not like Clary wanted to hide the selfish thing she did when she only asked for Jace. There is nothing, just plain agreement. Also, Jace is just as much complicit in the secret-keeping as Clary is.

Lilith, again, for the third time, explains the plot. Good lord, I hope they all are finally on the same page.

The first sentence is useless because you can first show the flash of realization and then confirm it with dialogue.

→ The demon woman’s voice had dropped to a low chant, and Clary saw her father standing inside a pentagram...

We return to the Investigation Team who have arrived to the mysterious building with an unlit chandelier. 

Yes, shut up, Jordan. I will maim you. 

The reaction this is going for → Aww, despite all this time hating Jordan, Maia still held onto a toe ring he bought her! She still has feelings for him despite everything, and now that she knows the truth, they can get back together!

Yuck.

They search every floor, and in one they find something horrible, but the writing cuts away back to the roof garden to keep the suspense up.

→ Pointless adverb when we can see Jace being obedient to Lilith’s orders.

LILITH EXPLAINS THE PLOT FOR THE FOURTH TIME.

Enough for demon thoughts to afflict him but not enough that Jace and Alec’s parabatai bond should ever be brought up or taken into consideration.

Why is this so hard concept for them to grasp? Why does this need to be explained gazillion times?

Whenever Simon and Clary’s history is brought up in attempt to call feelings from their long friendship, Simon’s character always goes to their early childhood, how he wanted to protect Clary, how tiny Clary is. Clary is always a this innocent little girl with braids who thinks about princes and castles. These memories are rather appearance-centered and pretty general. There is nothing really personal about these moments when Simon or Clary think of each other.

I liked when in the TV show, Clary says to Simon: “You’re still the same, Simon. You’re the same Simon I’ve known my whole life. The same guy who loves sci-fi and can recite every line from... from every Nicholas Cage movie. The same Simon who carried me over the Brooklyn Bridge when I lost my shoe, okay?” 

Because these are more specific details that focus on Simon as a person, and how Clary knows Simon, not just how Simon looks like.

One consistent point about Simon’s character is his sense of responsibility over Clary. Clary supposedly has it too, over Simon, but she is written so engulfed by Jace that it has never given similar chances to manifest.

How can the lid vanish while it peels back? It can’t. →The lid peeled back like the lid of a tin of sardines. As the top layer...

→ Writes a paragraph about how the lid vanishes and peels back → Feels the need to tell you the coffin is now open because some dumbasses might not be able to keep up.

→ Simon had hungered to drink Maureen’s blood, craved the feeling of his teeth sinking into her skin...

Simon bites into Sebastian’s neck, and we switch back to the Investigation Team. They have discovered several dead devil babies and are feelings pretty sick about it.

As he should.

Alec is of the Clave. This is barely brought up that he is also of the Conclave.

It’s irrelevant to be so vague about some piece of cloth on which one rubs their snot. → Jordan had given her a handkerchief.

Let Jordan be a handkerchief guy.

We know Sebastian was fast and strong. You can also deliver the main point without saying or ruminating over complementary things at all. ↓

“Why would anyone want more of him?” Alec’s voice was full of naked hatred.

“I guess they’re trying to breed a race of super-warriors,” Isabelle said.

HOW UNPREPARED WERE THEY?? Isabelle saw the place was dark as fuck, her pendant pulsed with demonic presence, yet she did not give herself runes to prepare for a possible battle??

The Tracksuit Person stalks the Investigation Team and Isabelle catches her. It is truly exciting. The Tracksuit Person then explains the plot from the cult’s point of view.

The highlighted part is irrelevant and veers too much from the moment. It’s irrelevant when Isabelle is going to deliver this information to the readers anyway, so one might suppose she knows a lot about the demon cults.

Alec comes to look for Isabelle who has separated from the others while giving chase.

This is just confusing the way the conversation is formatted. Because Isabelle is disgusted, it seems like what turn out to be Alec’s words are hers. The pattern repeats itself in the next paragraph, but here we are right to assume they are her words.

→ “She can’t hurt him, Izzy,” said Alec in a reasonable voice. “I know you’re worried, but he’s got...”

Alec and Isabelle are interrupted by an elevator ping. The rest of the Tracksuit Gang attack them.

[elendiliel]

Far From Home

Like most or all of my Transformers fics, and more than usual, this story and some of the worldbuilding in it were inspired (to put it mildly) by @justawannabearchaeologist's "TFP Wheeljack in TFA" series. I highly recommend it, if it still exists. (Tumblr is claiming that the blog doesn't; is this so, or have I been blocked?)

For a bit of context, Glitch is my Animated OC, a newly qualified field-tech who joined Team Detroit as Ratchet's apprentice shortly after the events of "Endgame". This fic is set in Season 3 of Prime, in the time-skip between "Plus One" and "Thirst", and is the beginning of a series that will eventually tackle the events of the rest of the show. Or, at least, that's the plan.

---

“This is definitely not Detroit.”

Not unless the rougher-than-usual space-bridge crossing Glitch had just endured had completely scrambled her sensors, and a quick self-diagnostic soon disproved that hypothesis. The barren, rocky landscape around her was real, then, and certainly not where she had expected to end up.

She was on Earth, at least – probably. Right sun; right gravitational field strength; almost the right atmosphere. The levels of carbon dioxide and other pollutants were a shade higher than expected, but not a match for any other planet in her database. She couldn’t seem to connect to the Internet or any other comm network, but out in the middle of nowhere that wasn’t too strange. The only hint of civilisation was the faint sound of some sort of mining operation, just the other side of a rock formation. She headed towards it, hoping to discover exactly where she was.

Unfortunately, the people she found knew what she was, the moment they laid optics on her, and she knew roughly what they were. Strange-looking Cybertronians, perhaps a dozen of them, all with identical purple frames, red optics and the Deceptibrand embossed on their chestplates. And all heavily armed and clearly under orders to shoot Autobots on sight.

Not good. Glitch made it to the shelter of an outcropping of rock just in time, for once thankful for her small stature, but it wouldn’t last. She was outnumbered and outgunned, unable to call for reinforcements, and couldn’t outrun a blaster bolt; she’d have to fight her way out. Her magnets and EMP generator slid into place almost without her thinking about it. They weren’t supposed to be combat mods, but she didn’t have much choice.

The nanoklik her cover crumbled under the enemy’s fire, she brought her magnets into play, forming a makeshift shield as she aimed her EMP generator at the nearest Decepticon. It should have knocked him out painlessly, but for some reason the adverb didn’t apply in that case. The ‘Con collapsed all right, but his scream of agony as the EMP hit him tore at her spark, and her shield nearly faltered as she recoiled from the ‘bot she had accidentally hurt. But there was no time to apologise. As her EMP generator slid back into her arm, a brief, practised magnetic pulse brought her shield mod – which usually covered her left rear hubcap – up to her arm, freeing her magnets for more offensive uses.

Keep moving. Keep them guessing and off-balance. Use every advantage you have – your size, your speed, your mods, your alt-mode, the terrain. Glitch drew on every piece of advice any of her teachers had given her as she fought to stay alive and whole against oversized ‘Cons doing their best to take her offline. At least they seemed to be even less prepared for her… unique… combat style than most of her previous opponents, and while their blasters were powerful, it was quite easy for her to redirect them away from her, and sometimes towards other mechs. She was starting to think she might get away without a scratch when one Decepticon called for reinforcements, and less than a cycle later a strange green portal opened in the air behind her attackers. Even stranger were the reinforcements themselves, ‘bots with insect alt-modes – stag beetles? Jackhammers? Not techno-organic, as far as Glitch could tell; they were pure circuitry, and loud. So noisy, in fact, that as she quelled the desire to cover her audials and braced herself for a fresh assault, she didn’t hear her reinforcements arriving.

***

As Optimus Prime stepped through the groundbridge, Ultra Magnus hard on his rear tyres, one of the last things he expected to see was a lone Autobot just about holding their own against a pack of Vehicons soon to be joined by Insecticons. Especially such a strange Autobot – a bronze-plated, two-wheeled femme even smaller than Arcee, with dark blue eyes and a simpler construction than any Cybertronian Optimus – or, according to the Matrix, any previous Prime – had ever known. Instead of blasters or blades, she was using what appeared to be a pair of miniature polarity gauntlets built into her arms to manipulate parts of her opponents’ frames, and a shield to block any incoming fire she could not dodge or deflect. She also made good use of her fists and feet, and of her Earth vehicle mode – how had she already acquired one? – but had been badly outnumbered even before the Insecticons arrived. He and Ultra Magnus were only just in time. The two senior Autobots barely needed to exchange a glance before charging into the fray, weapons already blazing. Wherever the tiny ‘bot had come from, she needed their help.

They really were just in time. Even as Optimus drew level with the femme, something seemed to short out in her right-hand magnet, clearly not for the first time. With a sigh and a murmur of, “Not again,” she retracted the useless device and transformed her hand into a laser scalpel, before darting forward to strike at the leg of an approaching Vehicon, severing an Energon line. For some reason, the sight of the spilled fuel caused her to shrink back, a look of horror and apology on her face – which did nothing to protect her from the mech she had just angered. Fortunately for her, Optimus’ cannon served that purpose by dispatching the Decepticon.

The Prime barely heard the young ‘bot thanking him over the war-cry of the Insecticons. He and Ultra Magnus took aim at the approaching swarm, but the femme only watched the fliers with a calculating expression, her peculiar eyes flickering, for a few seconds. Without warning, she shifted into her alt-mode – an old-fashioned motorcycle – and drove straight towards, then up, the next-nearest Vehicon, before transforming and jumping from his shoulder to the back of an Insecticon. Her laser scalpel made short work of the beetle-‘bot’s wings; as he began to fall, she was already in the air, ready to repeat her tactics on the rest of the Insecticons and one or two Vehicon fliers that had joined them. The falling and grounded Decepticons were much easier targets for Optimus and Ultra Magnus; within minutes, the three Autobots were the only ones left standing.

“Good work, soldier,” Ultra Magnus commented, “but some warning would have been appreciated.”

“There wasn’t time,” the newcomer shot back. Her voice was quiet and gentle, soft and silvery, but Optimus could hear steel in it as well. “And I’m no soldier.”

“What is your name, Autobot?” Optimus hastened to head off an argument he did not need to be a Prime to predict.

“Glitch. This may be a silly question, but just where are we?” The fembot also seemed keen to avoid certain conversations, at least for the time being, and clearly had not recognised Optimus or Ultra Magnus.

“In the state of Nevada, in the United States of America, on the planet Earth, if any of that holds meaning for you.”

It did. “Right planet, right country, wrong state – that’s fixable. What year is it?” Optimus saw Ultra Magnus’ optic-brows rise, but kept his own face neutral. Even he had long since lost track of the Cybertronian calendar, but the human one might well mean something to Glitch. “2013, common era.”

“About a century too early, but I can work with that. Sorry, I should have asked before – who are you?”

“I am Optimus Prime. This is Ultra Magnus.” Glitch’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me! I’m not just in the wrong state and the wrong century – I’m in the wrong flipping reality!”

“What makes you say that?” Ultra Magnus enquired, half-distracted by the Predacon thighbone the Vehicons must have just uncovered when Glitch interrupted them.

“I know the Optimus Prime in my reality, and I know of the Ultra Magnus. There’s a resemblance, but you two aren’t they, if that makes any sense. Something must have gone wrong with the space-bridge.” That did make a strange kind of sense to Optimus, given her odd design – even her Autobrand looked more like a decal than his embossed badge – and way of transforming, her choice of weapons and her reaction to spilling Energon. But he was still more than a little alarmed when his eyes fell on a sparking wound to her hip joint. Sparking, not bleeding.

She followed the direction of his gaze, but seemed more annoyed than worried. “Blast. One of the stormtroopers must have clipped me. I didn’t even notice it. Shouldn’t take more than fifty nanokliks to fix.” Her eyes returned to his face briefly, but did not appear to read it correctly. “It’s fine. I’m a field-tech. I can handle my own repairs.” She suited her actions to her words, using the same tools she had previously deployed as weapons with a far more delicate touch.

“That was not-,” Optimus decided not to explain. Ratchet could do so more effectively, back at Hangar E. Ultra Magnus had already called for a groundbridge; it opened beside Optimus, and he followed the others into it just as another one brought yet more Decepticons to investigate the battleground.

***

Glitch supposed that day could get weirder, but it was hard to see how. She had already ended up in a different universe, with Decepticons that bled instead of sparking, Autobots taller than Bulkhead, insect-‘Cons and space-bridges – and “ground bridges” – that could open anywhere, not just at other nexi. At least some things remained constant. Such as the look on the face of the red-and-white mech with a sparkbeat pattern on each arm standing at what she assumed were the groundbridge controls when she arrived in what appeared to be a repurposed aircraft hangar. That had to be the other Ratchet.

“Another new Autobot?” Glitch knew her own Ratchet well enough to be able to tell that that one wasn’t as annoyed as he seemed. “I hope this one is less trouble than Smokescreen.”

“I heard that!” called a blue, yellow and white ‘bot working at a terminal halfway down the room.

���Good!” probably-Ratchet shot back, before turning back to his likely commander.

“This is Glitch,” Optimus Prime informed the hangar’s other occupants – Ratchet, Smokescreen, four other ‘bots including a probable Bulkhead, a maybe-Bumblebee and a possible Wheeljack and five humans, one adult of each gender, a boy and a girl around Sari’s apparent age and a younger boy. “She claims to be from another reality, and I believe her.”

Any response Ratchet might have made was forestalled by the human girl, who clearly wasn’t going to let anybot – or any other human – get a word in edgewise. “Awesome! Nice to meet you, Glitch. I’m Miko. Are you really from another universe? How’d you get here? Are you sticking around? Do you have a vehicle mode yet? How many blasters are you packing? How’d you get that scar on your chest?”

“Miko, that’s enough!” the green mech who looked a lot like Bulkhead said, but Glitch didn’t really mind. She was hopeless at starting conversations, anyway. “Konichiwa, Miko-san.” Miko was clearly Japanese by blood, and judging by her accent probably by birth as well, but her English was flawless and Glitch didn’t want to shut the others out, so she switched back to their common language as she knelt down and did her best to meet the girl’s opt- eyes. “To answer your questions in order, yes, as far as I can tell, space-bridge malfunction, if you’ll have me, yes, a motorcycle, none, and a Decepticon ambush.”

“Impressive,” Smokescreen remarked. “Not many of us can keep up with Miko in rapid-fire mode.”

“I’ve had practice,” Glitch told him. “Compared to an intel-bot I know back home, that was slow.”

“Now that’s a frightening concept.” The only ‘bot Glitch couldn’t match to anybot she knew, a blue two-wheeler with pink accents who also happened to be the only other femme in the room, had come forward, taking over from the other Prime and Magnus, who seemed preoccupied with the bone the latter had brought back. “I’m Arcee, by the way. The big green guy is Bulkhead, the black and yellow ‘bot is Bumblebee, that’s Wheeljack over there, the grumpy doctor is Ratchet, and the other humans are Agent Fowler, June, Jack and Raf.” Each person waved as they were introduced. “And I’d say you’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Seriously, though – no blasters?”

“Where I come from, only Decepticons have them. We rely on other powers and mods. Besides, I’m a field-tech – a medibot,” Glitch added when Arcee looked blank. “I’m supposed to save lives, not take them.”

“Doesn’t stop the Doctor of Doom over there,” Arcee said, indicating Ratchet with what Glitch hoped was a just-kidding expression.

“I heard that.” Ratchet didn’t seem to be too offended by the nickname. “Well, we could certainly do with another medic around here, but if you’re staying I’d like to get a few scans of your biology, in case it’s different from ours.”

Glitch already knew it was – that ‘Con had been bleeding, not sparking – so let Ratchet lead her to the area he had evidently staked out as a med-bay, and held still while he ran his tests, though she was itching to know what that reality’s Cybertronians were like.

“Fascinating.” Ratchet’s optics lit up as he studied the scan results, in a way her Ratchet’s seldom, if ever, did, as Glitch sat up and perched herself on the side of the repair table. “You have relatively little Energon actually flowing through your lines, and much more electrical current. And motor oil, for some strange reason.”

“It’s easier to find on Earth than Energon. I take it you have more circulating Energon and less current?” That explained not only the bleeding Decepticon, but Prime’s reaction to her injury.

“That’s correct. Your Energon is also significantly different from ours, and at a guess much less volatile. I don’t suppose you brought any with you?” There were layers to that question, and Glitch couldn’t see them all.

“A couple of cubes, in my repair kit. Enough for two weeks if I’m careful; by then, if I haven’t figured out how to synthesise it I’ll have to try yours or make do with oil.”

“You could synthesise your Energon?” Again, there were more layers there than the younger medibot could read, so she only answered the top one.

“Possibly. I’ve worked with it before, developing a hyper-stabilised form for use as field rations, but nobot’s really studied the area to my knowledge. The farms produce enough for the whole planet and off-world teams like mine, just about. In fact, I was supposed to be escorting a batch to Detroit from Cybertron when I ended up here. The Energon made it through, but I didn’t.”

Ratchet had been about to ask about Energon farms, Glitch thought, but that question was overtaken by another. “Your Cybertron’s alive?”

“It’s populated, if that’s what you mean – a planet-sized mess, but we muddle along.” Too late, she realised what that question implied about Ratchet’s Cybertron, and her servo flew to her speech synthesiser. “Oh, stars…”

“You weren’t to know. The war between Autobots and Decepticons poisoned our planet’s core, turned it dark, aeons ago. I take it that didn’t happen in your reality.”

She shook her head. “The Great War ended two million stellar-cycles ago, before I came online, with an Autobot victory. And the Allspark War was over so quickly, I don’t think most of Cybertron really knew it was happening. Just that a Decepticon double agent had attacked Ultra Magnus and the ‘Cons were getting restless in exile, until Optimus and his team turned up with a captured Megatron in tow and the Allspark Matrix. Much to our esteemed acting Magnus’ displeasure, I’ve no doubt.”

“I take it “Magnus” means something different to you. Here, it’s just part of Ultra Magnus’ name.” That wasn’t really a surprise, given the way that Ultra Magnus seemed to defer to that Optimus Prime – as did everybot, Glitch thought.

“The Magnus is the commander of the Elite Guard and one of the leaders of Cybertron. The leader, in practice. Technically, it’s still Ultra, but while he’s on spark support thanks to Shockwave, his second-in-command Sentinel Prime has taken over. Insists on being called Sentinel Magnus, and far more trappings of office than any previous Magnus.”

“I take it you don’t like him much.”

“I most certainly don’t. He was Bumblebee’s, Bulkhead’s and my drill sergeant back in boot camp, and a pretty terrible one. Rank and responsibility have not improved him.”

“Medics have to go through boot camp on your Cybertron? I’m beginning to see why you called it a mess.”

“Anybot who wants to be more than a refinery worker or similar does, whether they aim to join the Elite Guard, be a field-tech like me, become a space-bridge technician like my Bulkhead,” that raised Ratchet’s optic-brows, “or do anything else. And yes, that’s one of the worst parts of the system.”

“Why do you call yourself a field-tech, rather than a medic or a doctor?” Ratchet seemed to be choosing a safe subject that wouldn’t cause him to go off on a rant. Probably.

“Two reasons. One, that’s all I can call myself, because that’s what I’m qualified to be. Two, it’s all I want to be. Field-techs serve with off-world teams in peacetime, and on the front lines in wartime. The bravest of us all.” Glitch grinned up at Ratchet. “Including your alternate self. He’s a hero of the Great War, not that he’d call himself that, and still on duty as Team Detroit’s senior medibot. And my mentor, which is literally a dream come true.” Her optics fell to the yellow and black band of paint around her right wrist. “Stars, and he doesn’t know where I am. Nor do any of my team.” She’d been too busy adjusting to think about the ‘bots and half-‘bots she’d left behind.

“We’ll get you back,” Arcee said beside her, making her fellow fembot jump. “Sooner or later, if they don’t manage it first. In the meantime, would it help if you told me about them?”

***

“It might be easier to show you,” Glitch replied, already powering up a basic datapad set into her right arm. Arcee could tell that the tiny two-wheeler was suddenly, badly homesick, but hopefully for her team and their base, not her Cybertron. She had caught the tail-end of the medics’ conversation, and did not like what she had heard. Glitch’s Cybertron sounded a lot like the little Arcee knew of hers before the war into which she had been protoformed. A world nobody, not even the ‘Cons, ever wanted to bring back in its entirety.

The picture that flashed up on Glitch’s datapad, though, was familiar in a very good way. It was a group image of eight ‘bots and two humans, all smiling broadly and toasting the camera with mugs of something. At least, Arcee thought there were eight ‘bots and two humans, but on closer inspection she saw that one of the humans – the girl around Jack and Miko’s age – had Cybertronian optics instead of eyes, and one of the ‘bots – the tallest of the three femmes – seemed to have parts of a giant spider integrated into her design, causing Arcee to suppress a shiver. It isn’t her. It can’t be.

She focused on the other ‘bots. Glitch was instantly recognisable, still the smallest full Cybertronian there, but not by as much as she was in Arcee’s universe. (Scrap, she was a full metre and a half shorter than ‘Cee herself.) Some of the others could be identified by their colour schemes, identical to those of their counterparts. “Bulkhead, Bumblebee – is he your partner?” In more ways than one, or would be in the future, Arcee was sure; the two young ‘bots were holding hands in the image, and Glitch wore her Bumblebee’s colours around her wrist. She decided to leave the issue for another day. “Optimus, Ratchet – who’s that?”

“The other you, believe it or not.” Arcee didn’t at first. “She’s… pink.”

“And a Great War veteran who favours laser swords, and apparently is very good with them. They were meant to be laser pointers, as she’s a teacher now, but Ratchet got carried away.” Arcee noted the body languages of her counterpart and Ratchet’s, and chose not to go there. “Is that Smokescreen?” The next mech’s colour scheme looked rather like the rookie’s original one.

Glitch shook her head. “Jazz. Cyber-ninja, defector from the Elite Guard, generally good news – if you’re not fighting him. And that’s Elita.” She indicated the half-spider.

“Elita-One?” Ratchet was looking over Glitch’s shoulder – not that that was hard for him.

“Not any more. Long story, and not mine to tell, but it’s connected to her being a techno-organic – and to Optimus commanding a maintenance crew instead of the Elite Guard.”

“Seriously?” Ratchet and Arcee asked together.

“Seriously. That’s what my Cybertron is like. If you don’t stay in your lane, if you’re not a good little cog in the machine, you’re nothing. Hopefully that’ll change, now that a team of washouts have done what the Elite Guard couldn’t and actually captured Megatron.” Arcee and Ratchet both flinched at her description of her society, and Arcee at least caught herself wondering how the rest of the team had ended up as “washouts”.

“Who are the humans?” she enquired, suddenly desperate to change the subject.

“Sari and Isaac Sumdac. Sari’s not exactly human; she’s a techno-organic, created when a Cybertronian protoform scanned Isaac’s DNA. We’re still working out how that happened. But she’s someone you want in your corner, with or without the Allspark Key she used to have, or the upgrades it gave her after she found out what she was. Threw a couple of Constructicons out of the base all by herself, pre-upgrades.” Arcee liked the sound of the kid already, but made a mental note to keep her away from Miko at all costs.

She half-expected Ratchet to ask for more details about Sari’s biology, but the medic was looking at the image of the other Optimus. “He looks… young. You all do – except the other me, of course.” Arcee had only seen that expression on the old ‘bot’s face when he was talking about the time before the war, and especially about Orion Pax, before he was Optimus Prime.

“He is, and we are. Ratchet, Jazz and Arcee are the only ones who remember the Great War. Relatively speaking, my Prime isn’t that much older than I am, but he’s still one of the best commanders for whom I could have hoped.” Some things don’t change, Arcee thought. Even for that miniature medibot so very far from home – who was welcome to some of Arcee’s, for as long as she needed it.

[elshells]

Happy STS, my friend! What is an unexpected thing that your readers have brought to your attention about your stories or characters? (It could be an aspect of your writing, a minor character they got obsessed with, a moment that made them gasp/cry/scream/etc., anything!)

Nopal! Happy STS, I hope your week has been treating you well!! 💕

I actually have an answer for all three of the examples you gave above, and they all come from EMBR of the Earth. :)

1) When I first started writing EMBR, I joined a book club on Wattpad to get constructive criticism on my first few chapters. This was about three years ago, when I was still very new to online writing communities. I got a very polite (and very eye-opening!) comment from another writer about how they counted over thirty adverbs in my first chapter alone! It absolutely blew my mind, because I had no idea I was using that many. And I value that comment so much, because it was the first time I really started to look at my writing through an editor's lens. So while I'm still prone to using adverbs, I'm much more conscious about it and don't tend to use that many!

A quote from this same writer that I still live by to this day: "Adverbs are like rabbits; you start out with two and before you know it there are a colony of them in your chapter." XD

2) There's one character—‌Dr. Clay, if anyone has read it—‌that got a much stronger, but overwhelmingly positive reaction than I had expected. As the head scientist aboard the satellite, he acts as a sort of mentor figure to the main character, Tana, showing intelligence and a sense of humor. However, at some point people shipping Dr. Clay and Tana together as a romantic pairing, which was a problem because he was old enough to be her father XD. I think this happened because I never specified his age, and the characters' early interactions were friendly, and so people took that to mean that they were flirting. I cleared this up in an edit and established more quickly that he was an older man, while she was in her 20s. Definitely not love interests, although the playful father/daughter dynamic stayed more or less the same!

3) Lastly, one moment that stood out to me the most was the first time a character explicitly died on-page. I was especially nervous about the reception I would get, because it was the first time I had ever killed off a character (which is kinda nuts to think about now, haha). The character in question hadn't (to my knowledge at the time) elicited any strong reactions from my readers, either positive or negative, but she was the first person in the book to die and her murder was brutal and somewhat unexpected. I received a lot of shocked comments, but also praise for how I handled the scene, which is what I was expecting and hoping for. But one reader in particular left a comment on the exact line where she dies, something along the lines of, "YES! TAKE THAT!" I remember cackling out loud because the comment seemed so out-of-pocket, though upon a reread of previous chapters and that reader's comments, I understand why they said that. Still a VERY strong reaction that I wasn't expecting. XD

So I guess the moral of the story is, happy accidents arise in writing all the time, especially when you're first starting out!

[katherynefromphilly]

You will likely find many better sources of information on all these things than my little reply here. But I’ll do my best, @tansyuduri. :)

Let’s start with an before and after example:

BEFORE: She had just started eating her lunch when there was a knocking at her front door. ‘Who could that be?’ she thought. She had told her neighbor to leave her alone about the stupid neighborhood watch. She wondered if the woman would ever let it drop. The knock sounded again, so she put her silverware down and stood up, then walked across the livingroom to the front door. When she opened it, she saw her neighbor standing there holding a clipboard.

AFTER: She had just started eating lunch when someone knocked at her front door. Who could that be? She’d told her neighbor to leave her alone about the stupid neighborhood watch. Would that woman never let it drop? The knock repeated, louder, driving her from her lunch and to the front door. When she yanked it open, she gripped the doorknob so hard her knuckles hurt. It was her neighbor. And she’d brought her clipboard.

So okay. I did a few things there. But I’ll call out the ones specifically mentioned above.

Stage direction

If you are describing a character moving around in your story, and it has no point, then that’s stage direction. In screenwriting this is called “shoe leather”, because you’re basically telling the actor to walk around the stage.

The sentence “she put her silverware down and stood up, then walked across the livingroom to the front door” is all stage direction that serves no purpose. It doesn’t convey mood, develop character, further plot, affect pacing, or add tension. She didn’t “march across the room” or “throw down her silverware” suggesting she was angry. It was boring, really. I got rid of it entirely, saying “driving her from her lunch and to the front door”.

In your writing, look for words like walked, sat, moved, got up, sat down, crossed the room etc. Search online for: “list of stage direction words” to see them all.

Filter words

Filter words are a block between what the character is feeling and the reader’s experience of it. They filter out the intensity of the experience. “She wondered if the woman would ever let it drop?” is less intense than “would the woman ever let it drop?” You don’t need to say she wondered about it. Just make her wonder it. You don’t need to say that “when she opened it, she saw her neighbor”, when you can say “It was her neighbor. And she’d brought her clipboard”. You’re seeing it with her.

In your writing look for words like thought, saw, felt, heard, seemed, knew. Again, I’d search on “list of filter words” to see them all.

Passives

Passives are something that should be called passive sentences. (Which is a passive sentence.)

There are whole books about the passive tense. It’s a nuanced subject. But basically — If you aren’t saying WHO or WHAT is doing a thing, and instead only saying that THE THING IS/WAS/SHOULD BE DONE, you’re using the passive voice. News outlets love passives when they don’t want to point fingers. “200 people were killed” is a lot less damning than “Mr. Evil Villain killed 200 people.” The passive voice can weaken the impact of your story. It can add distance to what you’re saying. “There was a knocking at the door” is needlessly passive, when I could have written “someone knocked at the door”. The word ‘someone’ is still an actor of some sort, though we don’t (yet) know who they are.

Words like be/are/was/were and there is/there was are often signs of passive voice.

One Last Bit Of Useful Advice

DON’T WORRY ABOUT ANY OF THIS STUFF IN YOUR FIRST DRAFT

DON’T WORRY ABOUT ANY OF THIS STUFF IN YOUR SECOND DRAFT EITHER

Looking for filter words, passive, stage direction, repetition, weak verbs and adverbs, etc. is, like, in the LAST round of editing. It’s the icing on the cake. Don’t do it when you’re still telling yourself the story, or figuring out which pages you want to delete.

Anyway.

Hope that helped.

So... I found this and now it keeps coming to mind. You hear about "life-changing writing advice" all the time and usually its really not—but honestly this is it man.

I'm going to try it.