#you would not believe how hard this was and how many kiss variations I wrote

[givehimthemedicine]

gentle (elmax kiss ficlet)

El can use her powers to soothe Max's headaches. Max touches a sore spot with a joke about how easily El could kill her, and it's suddenly really important to El that Max thinks of her as gentle.

--

"Better?"

El watches Max look around the room, blinking, giving her time to get a feel of herself.

"Yeah."

She's pushed only gently, probably not enough to ease Max's headache all the way. She never tries to get it all at once. Instead she does a little bit, asks, does a little more, until it's gone.

"Numbers?"

"It was 6ish, and now it's like... 1."

"So, more."

"1's not bad," Max shrugs. "I can live with 1."

El rolls her eyes. This isn't about Max wanting her to save her powers for more important things. This isn't about her powers at all. Max would just rather stay in pain than ask for help.

She's funny like that. For El, Max will walk right up to anybody and demand anything. But for herself, she acts like she's not worth bothering anybody.

El loves Max. She wishes she would ask her for things, so she could see how happy she is to do them for her.

"I don't want you to hurt 1. I want you to hurt 0." She reaches out for her. "Come here."

For the first treatment, she had only put her hand on Max's head. This time, she pulls her closer, bringing their heads carefully together, her forehead coming to rest on Max's temple.

This has nothing to do with fixing her headache; she could do that from across the room, and she has many times without Max even knowing about it. But there is something about that El doesn't like. She prefers for Max to feel involved in it, to be close to her for it. It's nicer to pair it with touch and affection, especially when Max seems to feel undeserving.

El pushes again, even lighter than before, stopping as soon as she feels a hint of that hard-to-define little prickle in her head. It only takes a second, but she doesn't open her eyes right away, nor move to separate them.

"Better?" she asks, not removing her hand from Max's head, because she knows Max likes it. It's not to keep her there. It's to welcome her to stay.

Often, Max does stay leaning against her for a little while. Sometimes it's because she's tired. Sometimes because her eyes are wet and she wants to keep them hidden until they aren't anymore. Sometimes maybe just because it's nice. El likes it no matter what the reason is.

"Better. Thanks."

When they do part, Max's eyes find hers, and then drop lower on her face. She always checks.

"How come your nose doesn't always bleed?"

"I only pushed barely a little."

"Why? I mean, couldn't you just go real hard and then you'd only have to do it once?"

"Oh, no," El says, running her fingers protectively down Max's hair at the thought. "No. I would not do that."

"Why?" Max laughs. "Would it like, melt my brain or som-" Her smile goes away all at once. "Oh. Wait, would it?"

El does not want to say yes, so she doesn't.

It is the same action, really. Done with gentleness and precision, she can ease the parts that are hurting - well, sometimes, depending what is wrong. Done with force and disregard, she can crush and rupture and bring blood out. She does not like knowing that from experience.

Neither of them are bridging the gap in the conversation, and something goes flat inside El. She wishes their talk had not gone here, to either of them thinking about her hurting Max.

So many of the times Max has seen her use her powers, it has been for hurting. Big messy screaming brute force and smashing ripping killing. Max has never seemed afraid of her, and she knows better than to let herself worry that that has changed just now.

But still, she wants Max to know her better doing helping, healing things. Good things. Gentle things.

She thinks of threading needles at the lab. Of her frustration that it was easier to hurl someone across a room than to move a weightless little thing just so. Of Papa's face when she finally did it.

"I can thread a needle."

Max's brows flick upwards a little, and El realizes she has thought pretty far away from where their out-loud words left off.

"Cool."

"Do you want to see?"

Max shrugs. "I believe you."

Disappointment must show on El's face, because Max does a curious little frown.

"What's the matter? I'm not worried you're gonna accidentally kill me or something. I know you'd never hurt me..."

Just as El looks up hopefully, Max adds quietly with a little smirk, "again."

El knows Max meant it funny, but it's honestly the worst thing she could have said. That one extra word turns the sentence from one El would've kept as a warm memory to visit often, to one that leaves her shimmery-eyed and brittle with remorse.

"Hey, I'm just-" the smirk falls off Max's face. "C'mon, hey. I'm sorry. I'm just teasing. I wasn't hurt at all."

El has already apologized about the time with the skateboard. Max was never mad, in fact she laughed when El confessed, but she doesn't understand how much El hates that it happened.

She hates that she can never honestly say the words I would never hurt you because she already has. Literally the first thing she ever did to Max was hurt her, and she can never undo that.

"I wouldn't." El meant to be promising, but it comes out small and more like pleading. "I am good now. I am gentle. I can be."

"I know you are." A concerned frown creases Max's brow. "I- I'm sorry, it was a stupid joke. I shouldn't have said that. I know you're good, El. You always were. I wouldn't be your friend if you weren't."

That is a nice thing to say, but Max just does not know the bad things El has done, before, in the lab. She would rather keep it that way.

El wants to be known by everyone as good and nice and helping, but Max makes her think about wanting to be gentle more than anyone else. She can't figure out how to show her that, or why exactly she wants to.

She picks up Max's hand and turns it palm-up to show the underside of her forearm where the skin is soft, and she touches it. Her middle fingertip ghosts down Max's arm so lightly that it might tickle.

She doesn't know why she thought to show her with her hands instead of with her powers... when that's what she's talking about, isn't it?

Her finger gets to the center of Max's palm and stops.

Surely Max is going to laugh and ask what this is, and El doesn't know what this is, so she stops and awkwardly returns her hands to her lap.

Max stays looking at her palm for a moment as if El has left something there. Then looks at El without saying anything, without laughing or making a funny face. Her cheeks look a little bit pink. Maybe she feels embarrassed, although El can't think of a reason.

El wishes it was easier to tell what other people are thinking about.

"I know you're gentle," Max says. "It's..."

Rarely does El care so much about how a sentence ends. She waits.

Max's eyes drop lower on El's face again. Maybe checking her nose, but El doesn't know what would've made her think she'd used her powers just now.

And then suddenly Max turns away, inhaling deeply. "Anyway! Thanks for.." she taps her head.

El nods, and Max gets up and disappears into the other room.

She touches her nose to check if it's bleeding. It's not.

She had liked touching Max. That's a funny thing to think, because it's nothing new. She touches Max all the time. They're always sitting with their shoulders brushing, or doing each other's hair, or having sleepovers snug against each other.

But touching Max's skin, on purpose, had been pleasant in a way she can't seem to pinpoint.

And she loves Max's laugh, so she doesn't understand why she had been so glad Max hadn't laughed just now.

Footsteps make her look up.

Max plops down next to her again. Her mouth opens like she's going to say something, but nothing comes out, and she stays like that.

El waits.

"Look-" Max says abruptly, like she's interrupting, "I'm sorry I bummed you out. I wanna make sure you get that, like, me being okay with you tinkering around in my brain isn't 'cause I forgot you could squish me like a bug if you felt like it. It's 'cause I trust you. 'Cause like, you don't even squish bugs, that's what's funny. Well, not funny, it..."

El's eyes narrow, unsure, and Max falters.

"I'm not explaining this very..." she sighs, wetting her lips. "Look. I've seen what you can do when you have to. But I see what you do because you want to. And I know that's like..." she looks around the room with a small shrug, "the real you. Okay?"

El collects these words carefully, intrigued by the idea that there is such a thing as a real her, and that Max knows what it is. She wishes she would tell her. But that's a lot to think about right now.

"Oh," is all El says, but a hopeful smile tempts the corners of her mouth.

"And like," Max starts again, and El refocuses, thrilled that there's more. "You being crazy strong, makes it... like.. I mean, for you to be.. um. super gentle, it's like..."

El leans in, desperately invested in that last word being a good word. She watches Max's mouth to see what will come out. "Makes it.... what?"

"It's..." Max glances away. "...cool."

"Oh." Cool is good, but El feels like she had been hoping for something else. What, she has no idea.

Max stands up again like she's going to leave, but her feet don't move. El looks up at her and watches her stare at the floor for a few moments.

"Are you o-"

"I don't mean it's cool," Max sits back down. "I mean it's...." she nods decisively, as if she had finished the sentence and meant it very much.

El looks back intently, faintly mirroring the nod as it goes on. She's sorry that the sentence did not sound finished to her, because Max looks like she would really like her to just understand, and El would love to just understand.

"It's what?"

"It'ssss I like it." She nods that way again.

El smiles for her, but Max sighs like that wasn't the right response and she'll have to keep trying.

She picks up El's hand and pushes up the sleeve of her shirt, and El smiles because she knows what's coming as she watches Max place her fingertips near the crease of her elbow.

Instead of letting that hand just hang loose, El brings her fingertips up to Max's arm, so that as Max begins to trace slowly down her arm, El's fingers automatically mirror the same on hers.

It does sort of tickle, and it makes her wish their arms were much much much longer. That is a weird thought.

Max's fingertips trail down, maybe going slightly slower when they ghost over the tattoo that El doesn't usually like anybody to touch.

They arrive in El's palm and stay there, both of them looking down at their fingertips resting lightly on each others' palms. Knowing that's the end of it but not wanting it to be, El curls her fingers, lightly closing them around Max's.

She still doesn't know what this is supposed to mean, but she likes that Max thought something of it, too. Maybe Max knows what it means.

She would ask her, but Max has just leaned in very close, and it's not a problem except El is trying to figure out why, because Max has never done that before. Nobody ever puts their face this close to her face except for Mike when he was about to - oh.

Oh. She hadn't thought of that.

She looks at Max from too close to focus, but she doesn't want to pull away to see better. Max gives her a small smile. Waiting.

Waiting for what, El wonders. Mike never did this. Maybe it is that their noses are in the way. Maybe Max doesn't know you have to tilt.

El smiles a little and tilts a little, and that must have been it, because then Max kisses her. It's soft and kind of long, and it makes El's eyes close in a way that it's hard to get them open again after it's over.

Whatever had been nice about touching Max's arm, kissing her lips is that way, except, a lot more.

Gentle, she thinks. Max is gentle. This is a much better way to tell someone.

El has never had a kiss like that one, and is surprised at that, considering how many she's had. She's never thought to kiss gently. Not that she kisses hard, she just... never thought to do it any other way but the same way over and over.

They look at each other with smirky little smiles that flit between happy and uncertain.

El is going to kiss Max again. She's going to kiss her so sosososo gently, and then she'll know.

She cups Max's cheek and kisses her again, this time as softly as she can manage, so softly that if it was any more soft, they wouldn't really even be touching.

"Hmygoh," Max breathes against her lips, ending the kiss by making El laugh.

Max's cheeks are pink, and she looks at El with a kind of glazed-over tiny smile.

El nods that nod from earlier, but as a question.

Max's smile spreads a bit and she nods back.

That seemed like it worked, but El is going to try to tell her again anyway, just to be sure.

[sometimesraven]

20 Questions for AO3 Writers

I was tagged in this FOREVER ago by @the-frankenman-writes I'm sorry it took me so long to get to!

1. How many works do you have on A03?

89

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

84,067 (my fics are usually pretty short haha)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Quantum Leap (TV 2022) (18)

Dragon Age (Video Games) (17)

Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) (11)

Original Work (10)

Dead by Daylight (Video Game) (10)

The Witcher (TV) (6)

The Sandman (TV 2022) (5)

Doctor Who (5)

Elder Scrolls Online (2)

Critical Role (Web Series) (1)

Torchwood (1)

F.E.A.R. (Video Games) (1)

Mass Effect Trilogy (1)

The Champions (TV 1968) (1)

Baldur's Gate (Video Games) (1)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Cold and Dark (Detroit: Become Human)

Holy, Holy, Holy (Original)

Her Sweet Kiss (The Witcher)

Just A Scratch (The Witcher)

Less Than Stellar Judgement (The Witcher)

(,,, people really like my Geraltskier whump fics huh XD)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I respond to basically every comment I get, even if all I can usually manage is some variation of "sfkgjhsfkgj thank you!!" because I have no idea how to take praise but I want the commenter to know they mean the world to me

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angiest ending?

Ooooooooof uhhhhh probably the little Detroit: Become Human ficlet I did called I Will Go Down. TW for suicide XD But there are a lot of angsty fics on there so who knows lmao

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics end pretty bittersweet but I think Hope (Doctor Who) is one of my happiest endings <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, surprisingly! My fics don't usually have much reach tbf. The only time I got anything close to "hate" was an ableist saying my disabled Dragon Age Inquisition OC is unrealistic to the setting and would likely be "with their clan or dead".

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Sometimes! Usually it's abstract (a la Holy, Holy, Holy) or porn with feelings (a la A Tale of Yearning) but I've been known to indulge in a lil PWP on occasion

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Just one! I have an ongoing Torchwood x Quantum Leap crossover 'verse thanks to @chaos-of-the-endless 😂 I also wrote a Baldur's Gate x Dead by Daylight AU recently!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I'm aware

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't believe so (please tell me if you ever do!)

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

no but some of my fics were inspired by other people or based on RP I've done in the past

14. What is your all time favorite ship?

Oh don't even XD uhhhhh right now it's Jenn&Ian from Quantum Leap and Geralt/Yennefer/Jaskier from the Witcher but my shipping loves go so far back I could never name an all time favourite

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Family Reunion :( I've been trying to write it for,,,, basically as long as I've been writing but I can never finish it and then years pass and I hate it and think it's cringe and want to start it from scratch, rinse and repeat)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Taking an impulsive headcanon and running with it. I have so many ficlets just because I thought of a headcanon and NEEDED to put it to the page. I also enjoy angst and hurt/comfort, things that expand on already existing angst and make it WORSE :3

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

In fic writing it's definitely description. I tend to get carried away in dialogue and forget to Say Other Stuff but I think I have a good handle on it now. That and smut, I enjoy writing it but I have to be either In The Mood or shut off my brain so I don't cringe so hard I delete it all bc I struggle with explicit content and get embarassed when things I'm writing are at all Kinky bc I have a crippling fear of judgement

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language for a fic?

As a reader I enjoy it! As a writer, just be careful, stick to one or two words rather than full dialogue if you don't have the time or energy to deep-google that shit

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Doctor Who <3

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

this changes daily but at the moment I'm loving Something More and the rest of my Sandman fics revolving around the dream OC I made for it. I'm in love with them and I enjoy writing their dynamic with the Endless siblings too <3

Tagging: anyone who wants to do this <3

[freebooter4ever]

Hello I just finished the Pacific and I'm dying. So it's time for me to delve into the fandom and try and fulfil my poor sledgefu heart. Have any recommendations on who's blog to look at or tags? Other than yourself because I most certainly will spend a solid 5 hours going through your tags. I've already seen a lot of your art and I think it's beautiful, just an FYI.

Oh boy do I ever have recs! It was only about a year ago that I was new to the fandom myself and slowly going through @aboutthatmelancholystorm and @persipneiwrites tumblr sledgefu tags every night, reading all of it, and being totally sucked in! ^_^ (I especially suggest Persipnei’s 3:16 AU where Sledge and Snafu are rock stars!) As for art, I think the biggest collection I know of is the blog @marines-r-gay. Some of my favorite sledgefu artist blogs include @skelesocks (Ace Eugene will hold a special place in my heart forever!) @badgerms and my old favorite the-heebiejeebies who sadly disappeared and deleted their blog :( but you can still find their old art in my ‘sledgefu’ tag on my blog like here. There’s no really ‘exculsively’ sledgefu artists out there right now, but there is a LOT of amazing older stuff to be found mixed into people’s blogs! My own art/writing sledgefu masterlist can be found here.

More specific fanfic recs under the cut! I’m focusing on oldies, because I think it’s fairly easy to find the newer ones on AO3 that are still being updated ^_^

Not Quite Home by Seabright - A fix it fic that really fixes things. Post war set in New Orleans with Eugene showing up on Snafu’s doorstep. Snafu is cantankerous and very in character and he /claims/ he can’t ‘fix’ Sledge, but let’s face it that’s why they need to fix each other. Snafu has a lot of walls up and Eugene breaks all of them down in his steadfast way. This fic captures Snafu perfectly - even in little things like in the way he fidgets and moves. Also the last kiss is just...SO good.

Canon Compliant

Roadverse by Seabright - There are a few authors exclusively on AO3 that like...if you haven’t read their entire sledgefu collection yet, you gotta! Seabright is one of them. Roadverse is set after the war and Snafu takes Eugene on a roadtrip to Florida, there’s a lot of introspection, they fall in love, definitely a happy ending! The writing here is what really shines.

After The Happy Ending by Handdaddyhoosier - Another author it’s worth reading their entire sledgefu collection. This one is also set after the war and is more domestic. A lot of fluff, a lot of slice of life, a lot of Sledge and Snafu dealing with homophobia and overcoming it (!!). Through it all Snafu and Eugene remain sooooo much in love that they’re stronger together and...yeah...it’s good. 

Christmas Even Will Find Me by SOMETHINREAL - My favorite canon compliant Sledgefu Christmas fic! It’s just perfect! Everybody is all together again after the war for Christmas and Eugene and Snafu are playing their own little dance between each other in the corner...they’re adorable. Plus there’s a happy ending!

Maybe You’ll Think Of Me When You’re All Alone by SOMETHINREAL - A very very good fix it fic for after the war. They’re both broken but they’re together and falling in love all over again, yay! I live for first pining and emotional kiss scenes and this is one of the best!

These Foolish Things Remind Me of You by Spoondragon - Merriell is quirky and weird and collects things and his last line in the fic is gOLD. Basically them being cute, with a first kiss. I highly rec ALL of spoondragon’s sledgefu fics!

To Make Much of Time by Hueligan - FIX THE TRAIN SCENE. I will read almost any variation of that train scene where Snafu makes it right, and this one does! AND THEN RUINS IT. So fair warning, you will fall in love with this fic but then it will break your heart. Kinda like Snafu. But it’s ok cause then you can go read one of the OTHER many fix it fics and mend it again.

Tilled Earth by Killerqueenie - Okay, this is one of my absolute FAVORITES. Snafu finds Eugene playing farmer boy in a small town outside of Mobile ten years after the war and Snafu signs himself on as a ranch hand. This one ACTUALLY fixes the train scene. Eugene is prickly and untrusting and Snafu has to earn his right to waltz back into his life. And oh gosh the love each other so so much!

The Magic Helmet by jspringsteen - Cute adorable and totally in character, canon compliant and not actually sledgefu except for some delightful hints that they are into each other more than they let on. It’s just such a great moment for Snafu’s character that I’ve reread this on multiple occasions.

All You Got by ssstrychnine - Another fix it fic (I know, I love these). This follows canon so well it’s seamless and only adds subtle touches of love between Gene and Snafu - so very believable as a part of the actual show. This author has four fics on AO3 for sledgefu and I suggest reading them all!

The Jazz Lights of New Orleans by Gracefully - Yet ANOTHER fix it fic! Give me them all!!! 

AU

Like It’s Only You And Me by SJTrinity - Snafu is an artist in this so of course I’m going to biased, but this is one of my absolute favorite college AU’s. All our favorite characters are there, including Bill, Burgie, Andy, and Eddie (and even Pops! as a fatherly figure to Snafu though he’s only referenced). Snafu is as chaotic as ever. The romance is hot! There are parts where I almost bust a gut laughing. Also anytime Eugene gets all haughty and bossy with his little furrowed brow over Snafu that’s like A+ for me.

Learning Curve by Seabright - ok THIS fic defines ultimate pining over Gene for me. I have never related to Snafu more. There’s a description of Eugene swimming in a pool that just..yeah...I have feelings. Anyway, it’s a college AU that is tragically UNFINISHED and will rip your heart out, BUT the same author also has a whole bunch of more canon related fic where the two of them do get together, so that eases the sting a little. 

F.M.L by @badgerms - I maybe have a thing for swimmers, but I love this swimming college AU especially because it’s in Gene’s POV but done so well that it feels real. This fic also delves into mental illness and mental self flagellation (there are some moments that hit REAL hard if you’ve ever had eating disorders). But on top of all that, I feel like lollki really captured what is so magnetic about Snafu, and by having Gene put him on this impossible pedestal it kinda reflects what a lot of us in the fandom do with his character. Snafu makes his existence look effortless and thoughtless, Gene is incredibly jealous of how Snafu just lives, their competition is ENTHRALLING.

The Kind Of Stuff That Only Prince Would Sing About  by @stolperzunge A coffee shop AU that has Sledge and Snafu just slowly and sweetly falling in love. This one is from Snaf’s pov and since I identify with him more you know I’m gonna love it lol! There are some GREAT funny lines, Snafu has personality in spades. Eugene is a grandad hipster type who also writes erotica....I dunno it’s all amazing go read it.

There Will Be Better Days by SydneyCarton - High school AU. As someone who had a fairly shitty high school experience and many bad holidays, this is...cathartic. Gene is definitely more the caretaker here, he saves Snafu in a way that’s just as strong as when he picked him up on the battlefield. But it’s all emotional, and Snafu is this scared prickly kid. And Gene is the honor roll kid who has to play the role of best friend secretly in love with the one person who matters most to them. This author never wrote anything else for Sledgefu and I wish they had!

Okay, that’s a whole bunch! There’s even more in my aO3 bookmarks! This list is just me going through my bookmarks and selecting the ones that I especially remembered and is by no means exhaustive of all my favorites in this fandom. Joining the Pacific train late means there’s a whole lot to choose from and explore...but it also means the list of active blogs is short and not a lot of new content gets posted every day :( I think the Sledgefu community is still going pretty strong, though! Welcome!

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

You must be he I was seeking

Summary: Roman and Logan have been best friends as long as they can remember, but will it stay that way?

or

Roman and Logan are huge idiots.

Pairings: Logince, backround (but still a lot of) moxiety and dukeceit.

Warnings: mentions of bullying, friends fighting, there is quite a lot of angst but  with happy ending :)

word count: 5690

a/n: Hello everyone, it’s been quite a while since I posted any fic, I am quite proud of this one so I hope yall enjoy it. I originally wrote this for @sanderssantas fic exange for the lovely @therealmoshar! (go check them out!!). I have always wanted to write enemies to lovers and a soulmate au so I absolutely loved writing this. 

The title comes from “To A Stranger” by Walt Withman. 

you can also find it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804592

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

Roman was practically bouncing in his seat at lunch, or more than usual anyway. It seemed today he was surpassing even his sibling in hyperactivity. His mom smiled softly at him.

“You’re going to Logan’s later?” She said knowingly.

Upon hearing his best friends name Roman’s face lit up.

“Yeah I’m gonna, “ he said between haphazard bites of his sandwich “Imma pick him up from his house, after lunch!”

Remus rolled their eyes next to him.

“It’s tragic to be the only one with manners here,” they said.

It is to be noted that they said this while practically covering the entire table and themselves in peanut butter and jelly.

Roman playfully shoved them after he finished his food.

“Shut up, Ree,” he said.

To which Remus responded by sticking their tongue out, before going back to their food. Then Roman looked at his mom with his best pleading puppy dog eyes.

Carmen laughed at her children fondly, shaking her head.

“Fine,” she said “You are excused, Roman.”

The moment she said it, he bolted from the table to put on his shoes.

“Be back at seven!” she shouted at him.

He ran back into the room, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and raid rushed:

“Will do, thank you, bye!”

“Love you!” she called out in the general direction of the hallway.

She heard a very loud “Me too!” and a slam of the door.

She couldn’t help but laugh. He reminded her so much of when she had been young and met her soulmate; she and Isa couldn’t get enough of each other either. Absentmindedly she touched her arm where a garden of flowers is tattooed on her skin and she smiled.

Then she turned back to the table.

“Remus! Do not feed peanut butter to the cat!”

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

Roman knocked excitedly at Logan’s door.

They were going to go to their secret clearing in the neighborhood park. Well “secret”, technically anyone could come there, but there were never any people there.

It was a small clearing with a bench and overgrown plants all around. Roman insisted that the place had to be magical, Logan on the other hand said it was simply forgotten due to poor municipal planning.

Whoever was right didn’t really matter in the end, it was their favorite place to be.

Logan’s dad opened the door, he always looked very similar to Logan, with his dark skin and black curly hair, although Logan’s was shorter. The biggest noticeable difference was his tattoo on his neck that consisted of various little birds, the very same that his mother had.

Anyway, Logan’s dad smiled at him and said:

“Logan’s upstairs, you know the way.”

“Thanks Mr. Sanders!” Roman said, and ran up the stairs.

He practically stormed into Logan’s room.

Logan looked up from Foundation and Empire, annoyed, until he realised who had just charged into his room.

“Roman!” he said, a little too enthusiastically considering they had seen each other yesterday.

“Yeah, now come on Lo! We gotta go to the park!” he said grabbing his friend’s hand and pulling him downstairs.

Logan shook his head at his impatient friend, but did not stop him.

“You do know we still have about six hours of playtime, right?”

“Yeah yeah but the dragon witch is not going to defeat herself!”

Logan could not really argue with that.

He quickly put on his shoes and could only say a quick goodbye to his dad before Roman grabbed his hand and took off towards the park.

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

They played happily for hours, occasionally Logan would point out inconsistencies in Roman’s stories which he always answered with a variation of:

“It’s magic, Specs!” or “we are playing pretend, calculator watch”.

Roman liked nicknames.

And Logan would give in and follow Roman’s nonsensical plot. Logan always liked Roman’s stories a lot, secretly.

They played until the sun started setting, then tired out and content they sat on their bench, surely late for curfew and not bothered by it whatsoever.

Logan rested his head on Roman’s lap, to be able to properly point at the stars and show them all to Roman.

And although Roman couldn’t really remember all that he was told he always listened carefully, slowly threading his fingers through his friend’s hair, smiling at Logan’s beaming face.

It was time to go home and a comfortable silence fell over them.

Roman sighed content and said.

“We will always be together, won’t we Lo?”

Logan sat up and looked at his friend.

“Always is a very long time, Ro.”

“You think we won’t?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Roman laughed

“It's almost as if you like me, nerd.”

Logan tried to give him an annoyed look, which ended up looking more along the lines of “desperately fond”.

“For the record,” Logan said. “We will be together forever.”

Barely above a whisper but with the conviction one could only have when speaking an absolute truth.

It was strong wording, but such are the things you say when you have yet to turn nine and the world seems simple.

And they believed it, with all of their hearts, they really did.

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

Then middle school rolled around, and everything went wrong. And as far as Roman is concerned, it was all Logan’s fault.

A few months after they started middle school Logan already seemed to change so much. He was quiet and reserved, which is something he had always been, but never around Roman. He was also always seemingly busy.

Roman didn’t know about how kids made fun of Logan in class, how slowly but surely Logan began to believe his only redeemable quality was his grades.

It’s not like Logan told him.

What made it harder is that they weren’t in the same class anymore, so they only saw each other after school.

More and more often Logan would be studying, or taking extra classes, which he didn’t even need in Roman’s opinion.

Roman got increasingly sadder, and quietly wondered what happened to his best friend.

As far as Logan was concerned it was all Roman’s fault, because he had replaced him.

One day Logan arrived at Roman’s house, unannounced, sure, but they did that all the time.

Or they had done that once.

Remus opened the door and seemed genuinely surprised to see him.

“Logan…” they said, pitifully?

“Hello, is Roman home?”

“Yes, but,” they hesitated “he has a friend over.”

Logan’s brain short circuited, a friend? Of course Roman could have other friends, many people at school liked him. He was allowed to have other people over that weren’t him.

It still didn’t sit right with him.

He walked up the familiar staircase to Roman’s door, which was easy to find because it said “Roman” in cursive red and gold and covered in stickers.

He heard Roman’s loud laughter mixed with someone else's.

He opened the door to find Patton Jones in Logan’s usual spot, next to Roman on his bed laughing at a joke only the two of them understand.

The two on the bed stopped abruptly when they saw Logan at the door.

“Logan!” Roman said excitedly, because they hadn’t seen each other in more than a week.

“It’s good that you are here,” he continued.”Now you can meet Patton!”

Patton smiled in a way that seemed to light up his freckled clad face, he seemed lovely with his sunny smile and golden curls, Logan felt something akin to anger bubbling in his chest, he immediately did not like Patton.

“You must be Logan,” Patton said happily “Roman talks about you a lot.”

Logan completely missed Roman blushing, and instead realised that the feeling bubbling up in his chest was something as stupid as jealousy.

“I can come by another time.”  he said.

“No, no its going to be fun!”

The rest of the evening was awkward. Roman and Patton had jokes and stories Logan didn’t know. Logan couldn’t shake the horrible feeling in his stomach.

Logan left before dinner in a hurry.

Roman was extremely confused, why couldn’t Logan even be just nice to Patton.

Patton was sweet and if Logan didn’t appreciate that, Patton was Roman’s friend.

“I am sorry Pat, I have no idea what’s up with him.”

“I think he might just be jealous, Ro.” Patton said softly.

But Logan was not an idiot, there was no reason to be jealous, Roman was sure Logan knew that. But of course he didn’t tell him that.

“No, I think he is just being a jerk.”

Patton shook his head sadly, he didn’t like it when people were hurting.

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

Roman and Logan saw each other less and less through middle school.

They didn’t talk about the things that bothered them or anything really, and soon painful silence fell over them when they hung out.

Things didn’t completely get ruined until about a week before summer vacation.

“My parents agreed for you to come along with our vacation.” Logan said, pretending very hard that everything was fine.

They had always gone on vacation together, he saw no reason for it to be different this year.

Roman shifted uncomfortably.

“Still the week of the 11th?”

Logan eyed him dubiously.

“Yes? It’s always been that week?”

Roman looked at the ground guiltily.

Logan stared at him baffled.

“You forgot?!” Logan said, way too loud, his fists clenched, his body tensed up.

“I am so so sorry Logan! I am going camping with Pat that week but maybe-”

Logan saw red.

Of course he thought what did I expect?

“Fine! Go hang out with Patton then!” he yelled, trying very hard not to cry.

Roman threw up his hands.

“I don’t know why you hate Patton so much!”

“I don’t! I just-”

“You do.”

Logan clenched his jaw so hard he wondered whether he could break his teeth like that.

Roman looked at him with a challenge.

“This is preposterous Roman, we are not toddlers anymore.”

“So you admit you dislike Patton.”

Logan slowly breathed in and out.

“I do not.”

Roman shook his head.

“Oh yeah? You merely hate when I hang out with him? God forbid I want to have a friend that doesn’t ditch me because he is a such a fucking nerd!”

Roman regretted the words the moment they left his mouth and saw Logan flinch.

Logan looked back at him as if he had just been slapped.

Kids at school said those things, but Roman, Roman wouldn’t.

Yet he had.

Logan felt tears prickle in his eyes.

“Logan...“ Roman said softly.

“I hate you!” Logan shouted, before storming off.

Roman did not run towards him, nor did he try to reason with him.

He just shouted “Fine!”

And ran back home choking back tears.

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

3 years later.

Pretty much everyone at Gainesville High School knew Roman Reyes and Logan Sanders.

Roman Reyes was known as a semi-popular theatre kid, that many people knew either because he constantly got the lead role in the school’s play or because he was signed up to at least 10 different extracurricular clubs and activities. Most people liked him well enough, although he usually sat at lunch only with Patton Jones and occasionally his twin.

Whom was another reason he was known across the school, people tend to remember you if your sibling blew up the lab, on multiple occasions.

Logan Sanders was a genius, who had won more science contests than anyone else at the school ever. Everyone also liked him well enough, or at least they said so ever since he started hanging out with Deceit - who did have a real name, supposedly, but made up a new one every time someone asked him - and Virgil Decker. Who were both rather punk/emo and would not hesitate to fuck you up if you messed with their friends. They had a very interesting brand of psychological warfare they had used on Chad Carson when he had spray painted Logan’s locker in freshman year, no one had dared to mess with him since.

Anyway, they had many things in common, Logan and Roman.

They both had a tendency of arguing with teachers, they both had interesting brands of extra, they both liked to wear skirts occasionally.

And mostly everyone knew them because they knew that letting those two in a room together was about as catastrophic as letting an atomic bomb go off.

Some of their arguments and fights were famous.

Like the time they argued for two periods about the correct interpretation of a single line in Hamlet , derailing poor Ms. Chase’s math class.

Or the time Roman joined the debate team loudly announcing to anyone who would listen that he was doing it to kick Logan’s butt. In retribution Logan had auditioned for the role Roman wanted in the school play. They now shared the role, much to the demise of the whole theatre cast and crew and director Thomas Sanders.

Or the time they were doing their standard comparing grades and bickering shenanigans which escalated in Roman pouring water over Logan, which in turn got Roman covered in an unholy mix of coffee and red bull.

Everyone tried to separate them as much as possible, but it seemed somehow those two always ended up stuck together.

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

Patton sighed as Roman shouted yet another stupid nickname at Logan, who was sitting all the way across the cafeteria. Logan shouted back a “burn” that sounded suspiciously like a rap verse.

Patton gave a sympathetic smile and wave at Virgil who seemed to be faking slamming his head onto the table in frustration.

Virgil saw him and blushed timidly and waved back, which in turn made Patton blush.

He looked down at his arm looking at his forming soulmark. He had made friendship bracelets is whole life, he was in fact looping one now. A green one, Remus had bitten through their old one. Now he had the simple design of one on his right wrist, a blue one with a little purple heart in the middle. He really, really hoped Virgil had the same tattoo.

Roman didn’t notice his very obvious crush and instead started ranting about Logan, again.

Patton tuned him off as much as he could.

“You two are like Harry and Draco.” Patton cut him off, hoping Harry Potter might make him stop.

Roman scoffed.

“I hope you mean that he is Draco.”

“You have been talking about him for the past ten minutes!” Patton countered.

“First of all clearly I am a Gryffindor, second of all he is just so-”

“Infuriating!” Logan said to Dee and Virgil who were totally paying attention and hadn’t heard this all before.

“Oh,” Dee said, rolling his eyes “you hadn’t mentioned it.”

“I haven’t? Well in that case-”

They were saved by an impromptu lecture on everything infuriating Roman had ever said and done by Remus, who slammed their lunch on the table. They proceeded to crawl on Dee’s lap casually.  Virgil muttered “get a room” which earned him a middle finger from Remus.

“Can’t you shut up about my brother for one second Lolo,” they said “there are more subjects, you know.”

Logan did not give in.

“Doesn’t your brother regard you as a traitor?”

“For sitting with my soulmate?” Remus rolled their eyes “You are so dramatic, nerdy wolverine, besides Roman may be a pain in the ass, but he is also a romantic.”

Logan wrinkled his nose looking at Deceit and Remus’s intertwined arms. In full display was a currently simple, but surely one day extremely extra green and yellow serpent tattoo that coiled around both of their arms, making it hard to make out where each of them ended or started.

They were ridiculous. And so was his mark, it was not visible but it was a simple and way too cartoonish bunch of stars under his left shoulder blade.

Soulmates where stupid, in Logan’s opinion.

“It’s not like any of you like Roman, I am in my right to find him aggravating and-” he saw all of his friends looking at him incredulously. “What?”

He distinctly heard Dee mutter: “Lord grant me patience, because if you grant me strength someone will get murdered.”

“Well, I mean Princey isn’t my best friend but,” Virgil shrugged “ I like him well enough, plus his antics in debate club are always entertaining.”

Logan looked at Virgil disbelieving, then at Dee who smirked a bit.

“He certainly is dramatic and annoying, I’ll give you that but then again,” he gestured vaguely at his company on the table “a lot of people are.”

Vrigil rolled his eyes, Remus simply nodded in agreement.

Logan scoffed.

Since when does Deceit hang out with Roman anyway, well aside from play rehearsal and the fact that he is his soulmates brother and- , Logan thought, realised he was being stupid and shook his head.

“I have seen you hit Roman with a morning star, Remus, you can not tell me you enjoy his company.”

“It was play rehearsal!” Remus defended “and we are siblings, it’s different.”

“I can’t fathom any of you enjoy his company he-”

“Well don’t be like that, you two used to be best friends.” Remus said nonchalantly.

Virgil stared at Logan baffled, Dee burst into laughter.

“I am not joking!” Remus said amused.

Dee shook his head.

“I know, darling, but it's not like we have had to endure daily rants on how dreadful Roman is, and it turns out they were fucking best friends!”

Virgil just kept staring at Logan quizzically.

“Yes, Roman and I were,” he hesitated not sure how to phrase it “..close, but we were children, it was quite some time ago.”

“What happened?”

Logan looked briefly across the cafeteria to Roman’s table, where Patton was tying a friendship bracelet to Roman’s wrist.

“He found new friends.”

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

Logan hadn’t quite realised how much he missed Roman, but now that he had been lying wide awake for quite some time, memories of both of them unable to get out of his head, he supposes it’s a lot more than he initially thought.

He really does like his current friends, but somehow Roman had been different, they had been so very close and Logan had believed they would be together forever.

There was still a picture somewhere buried under books on his desk he couldn’t bring himself to throw away.

It was a nice spring day, they had their arms around each other, they were both smiling so wide it seemed impossible, they were probably around ten years old, childhood innocence still in their eyes. And Roman was looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

Where had that look gone? What had happened?

Logan’s chest ached with nostalgia,and although he had previously never ever considered sneaking out, on this night with a full moon and thousands of stars he quietly slips into his coat and shoes.

He opens the front door silently and he walks calmly to the clearing in the park.

Their park.

He gets there and goes to sit on the bench.

Their bench.

He looks up at the sky, he looks at the stars that he once considered theirs.

A deep melancholy settles into his chest threatening to blow him into pieces.

Tears prickle in his eyes for times long gone.

He is snapped out of his thoughts by a soft, surprised, achingly familiar voice.

“Logan?” his best friend, his rival, a stranger says.

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

Patton had never been mad at Roman before. Sure Roman could be a bit much, Patton had been frustrated, annoyed, aggravated, perhaps a tad angry.

But today it seemed he had finally crossed a line with him. Roman was, as usual, ranting about Logan.

Patton had sighed heavily.

“Now you are just being mean, Roman, I know you miss him but-”

And ok, Roman may have exploded a little, stating that he was better off without Logan in about ten different ways.

Patton had huffed and said in a tone Roman had never heard from him before: “Fine, see you tomorrow.” and he walked away.

And now in the middle of the night Roman couldn’t shake Patton's words out of his head. Mostly because he had been right.

He did miss Logan.

He looked at the little stars, just under his shoulder blade in the mirror. They always reminded him of Logan, and his ceiling full of glow in the dark stars. Too bad Logan hated his guts.

He put his shirt back on and looked through the window, out to the full moon and the stars.

He made his way downstairs careful not to wake up his moms’. Downstairs he bumped into Remus who snickered at him.

“Sneaking out little brother, I always figured you were too much of a goody-two-shoes for that.”

Roman eyed his sibling dubiously, they were wearing a neon green skirt with suspenders over a black crop-top, knee length boots, and those weird long fingerless gloves.

Roman wondered how they could possibly be related.

“First of all, what are you wearing? Second you are also sneaking out and third we are twins! And i was born first!”

Remus laughed and grabbed a rat out of their skirt pocket.

“Can you believe how easy it is to rile him up, Woody?” they said to the rat. “Isn't he ridiculous?”

“You are sneaking out with your rats?”

Remus carefully stuffed the rat back in their pocket and said: “Dee is having a party!”

As if this was an explanation for the rats. Also Roman knew very well Deceits ���parties” consisted of either vandalising public property with anarchist messages or some other sort of public disturbance.

Roman shook his head and walked towards the door.

“Don’t get arrested, I won’t bail you out this time.” he called over his shoulder.

“I make no promises.” they said before disappearing through the kitchen window, for some reason.

Outside he wondered whether Logan joined them in their mischief these days.

Logan seemed like a rational individual, but slap a decent hypothesis to any shenanigans and he will call it an “experiment” and go along gleefully.

Or he used to anyway.

He walked towards the park remembering all the trouble they had gotten into, chuckling sadly at his memories.

He made it to the clearing as if last time had been yesterday, and not years ago.

There to his surprise was Logan Sanders, looking up to the sky and...crying?

“Logan?” he asked, unsure of whether or not he was dreaming.

Logan looked at him, a little bit shocked, but mostly he looked tired.

They stood still for a moment staring at each other tension everywhere.

Finally it was broken by a small, exhausted voice.

“I am tired of fighting, Roman.”

He looked so sad, so small, Roman wanted nothing more than to gather him in his arms.

He didn’t, instead he sat next to him.

“I think I am too.”

Silence fell over them again.

“Then pray tell,” Logan said. “What are we doing?”

Roman looked down at his hands.

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “You promised you know.” Roman said bitterly. “Forever.”

Logan looked back at him, anger clearly bubbling right back into his stomach.

“Maybe we would’ve if you hadn’t replaced me!” he spat with venom in his voice.

Roman’s eyes widened in surprise he turned to Logan baffled.

“What?” Roman asked.

“Well it was clear you favored Patton, which I suppose should be fine, but-”

“Hold up! Time out!” Roman said shaking his hands. “You were jealous? You thought I liked Patton better?”

Now Logan looked equally baffled.

“I- yes?” he said.

Roman burst out laughing. Logan really didn’t get the joke.

“What?” he demanded.

“I thought you didn’t like me anymore! I mean we never hung out anymore and you seemed so distant.” he gripped Logan’s hands firmly into his own. “I love Patton don’t get me wrong, but I started hanging it with him because I was so lonely,” he looked into Logan’s eyes “without you.”

“You were?” Logan said his voice so small.

Thus Roman realised he was an idiot, a petty, stubborn, stupid moron .

“Yeah, I was.” he sighed sadly. “I am sorry, for what I said then and well for everything.”

Logan shook his head.

“It was so long ago.”

“I should never have said that.”

Logan smiled just a little bit.

“I apologize too, for everything.”

Roman smiled back.

“Man, I thought you were being a jerk to Patton for no reason.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to laugh, a little bitterly and with bitten back tears.

“Patton seemed so perfect, and with everything people were saying at school,” he looked away from Roman. “I did not think there was a way I could compete with him.”

Roman did hug him then, clutching to the back of his shirt, pressing Logan close and said:

“No one could ever compete with you, Specs.”

Logan’s heart soared, he hugged back and clung to Roman like a life raft, he let out a shaky laugh, a breath of relief and said very quietly but full of conviction:

“No one could ever compete with you either.”

They stayed in the park way too long, remembering old times, making plans for times ahead. Perhaps it should’ve been awkward, but somehow it wasn’t, they fit like two pieces of a puzzle, just like they always had.

They had years to catch up on, but soon they realised that their lives were still intertwined, their friendship group was pretty much the same and they shared extracurricular activities. They had never really been separated at all.

They did still bicker, but they didn’t fight and their words lacked bite or venom.

So they ended up pressed against each other, looking up at the stars. Logan’s head rested on Roman’s shoulder.

“Look it’s Cassiopeia.” Roman said, pointing at the constellation.

Logan couldn't quite bring himself to be embarrassed about the way he giggled.

“I thought I was supposed to be the astronomy guy.” he said.

Roman smiled into his hair.

“I did listen, you know, when you talked about the stars.”

Logan looked up at the stars and held Roman closer, he remembered, now how it had been so easy to promise him forever.

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

The next day at Gainesville high school everyone was fairly sure the apocalypse had just started, because Roman Reyes and Logan Sanders had eaten lunch together, with all of their friends, who all seemed delighted and not at all bothered by it. And not just that they had, supposedly also sat together in all classes they could.

“You are kidding me, babe.” said Remy Katz taking a sip from his starbucks iced coffee.

“I swear I am not!” said a very baffled Emile Picani, “I saw them at lunch!”

“You sure they weren’t try to poison each others food? Secretly murdering each other through pure passive aggressiveness?”

Emile recalled how he had seen them, their smiles blinding, looking at each other as if they hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

“Yes, I am sure,” he said smiling “They seemed happy.”

-----------

Logan and Roman’s friends had varied reactions to finding their years long rivalry had ended with a good conversation and some hugs.

Patton was so utterly delighted he hadn’t been able to be mad at anyone, especially after Logan’s very sincere apology, the gist of which was “I was a jealous thirteen year old, and I am sorry.”

Patton had hugged Logan very tightly and handed him a blue bracelet with a little star in the middle.

Logan smiled surprised.

“How did you know I liked astrology?”

Patton smirked and said: “Roman talked about you, a lot.”

Roman turned cherry red and sputtered some nonsensical words.

And of course all his friends were kind enough to laugh at his expense, really loudly.

After that Virgil offered his reaction which had been something akin of “Fucking finally.”

To which Patton said: “Language, babe.”

And Roman got his revenge by laughing very loudly at Virgil's very red face.

Which was not much of a revenge at all because Patton felt so very sorry that they were laughing at his poor boyfriend and so kissed him quite sweetly.

To which Remus shouted: “get a room!” which they shouted while sitting on Dee’s lap with their legs coiled around each other.

Dee had then shook his head, looked Roman up and down and said: “I suppose we can add another moron to our group.” A statement that no one argued.

Everyone ate happily together, bickering loudly and laughing a tad too loud.

Patton and Virgil tentatively held hands under the table; their bracelet tattoos giving an illusion of hands bound together, content and forever.

Deceit and Remus ate, as always, half on each others laps, their arms twisted together to show the serpent seemingly pressing them together.

As for Roman and Logan? Well I hope it is established by now that they are clueless morons.

Yes, they were friends again, and everyone pretty much assumed they had figured out they were soulmates as well.

But

It took them a week more.

It all happened over lunch at Roman’s house, Roman was eating, or well he was shoving food in his mouth as rushed as possible.

His moms shared a knowing look.

“Are you going to Logan’s later?” Carmen aksed.

Roman’s face lit up and made something of a sound of agreement.

“After lunch!”

Everyone at the table couldn’t help but smile at his besotted face, even Remus.

“Well I am glad I don't have to hear your rants about not having a soulmate anymore, they were getting exhausting.” They said brightly.

Roman practically dropped his fork in shock, eyes wide he turned to his sibling.

“What?” Roman said, trying to process the sentence.

“Wait, you seriously hadn’t figured it out yet?” Remus said dumbfounded.

And when Roman, still shocked, shook his head, Remus burst into laughter joined by their moms’ not so subtle chuckling.

Roman on the other hand was freaking out.

“Oh my Gods! Logan is my soulmate?! Oh my- I- What?!” Roman sputtered.

Which just made Remus laugh harder.

“How do you know?” Roman continued “When did you see Logan shirtless? Wait! Do I want to know?”

Remus waved their hand dismissively.

“I got sulfuric acid on his shirt, doesn’t matter, long story, but like...you really didn’t know?!”

Roman felt like his world had been shaken upside down.

He had to-

“GO! I have to go!”

Carmen, who was still laughing said: “you are excused, Roman.”

As soon as she said that Roman bolted out of the door, nearly forgetting his shoes.

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

Roman knocked on Logan’s door excitedly. Logan’s dad opened the door and smiled down at him.

“It’s good to see you again Roman!”

Roman nodded politely, still practically vibrating from emotion.

Logan’s dad seemed to notice, laughed and said:

“Logan’s upstairs, you know the way.”

“Thanks Mr. Sanders.” Roman said as he dashed up the stairs.

Upstairs he actually barged into Logan’s room.

Logan looked up from his book and did not even try to hide his glee as he said:

“Roman! You are early.”

He also did not hide his surprise and subsequent rush of warmth to his face when Roman blurted out: “Take off your shirt!”

“I- wh- what?” he stammered.

Roman laughed, still bouncing.

“Ok, ok,” he said. “I could’ve frased that one better, wait let me just-”

Then Roman started taking his shirt off, oh Goodness Gracious-

“Roman what in the world are you-”

Then Roman turned around.

And Logan’s heart either stopped or started beating so fast he couldn’t properly feel it anymore. Because there, covering Roman’s right shoulder blade was a perfectly glitterly, stupidly cartoonish little galaxy.

“We are soulmates.” he stated.

And then again, and again and again getting steadily more excited as he went.

Roman looked on at his shiny face and wondered if it was possible to die of fondness and cuteness overload.

“Yeah, L.” Roman said, giggly and breathless. “We are.”

Logan came closer, laughing now, joy clear on his face.

“Oh,” he said shaking his head. “We are such idiots.”

“Oh yeah we are.”

Logan came to his senses only for a second to realise that Roman was still shirtless.

He coughed pointedly, Roman smirked.

“I don’t know, pocket protector, don’t like what you see?”

Logan swatted him lightly and gave him a fake scandalised look

“Put a shirt on, Roman.”

Roman pouted but obliged and put on his shirt, making a whole show of turning around and putting on his shirt as slowly as possible.

He turned around.

“So-” he started and never finished, because Logan grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him.

Roman made a sound at the back of his throat between “delighted” and “please God more”. And he kissed back, practically making them both fall on Logan’s bed.

Their kiss, they both agreed, had to be magical, they were soaring flying and pulling each other closer and closer, practically melting against each other. They giggled and laughed and whispered sweet nothings that meant the world and nothing at all.

They ended up pulling apart only for the insufferable need for air.

They sat up on Logan’s bed,panting, pressed against each other, looking up at Logan’s glow in the dark stars in pleasant silence.

Roman gently brushed the hair out of his soulmates face and said softly:

“We will always be together, won’t we love?”

Logan smiled and leaned into his touch.

“Always is a long time, beloved.”

Roman tenderly brushed his cheek.

“You think we won’t be?”

Logan closed his eyes, smiling contendly.

“That’s not what I said.”

God, I love him so much. They both thought.

“Gosh, it’s almost as if you like me, nerd.”

They both giggled.

Then Logan pulled Roman even closer and whispered into Roman’s ear, very faintly, but with the conviction one could only have when speaking an absolute truth.

“I know we will be together forever.”

And they believed it, with all of their hearts, they did.

[ambitionsource]

S2 Rewatch - Maggie’s Take [ 207 ]

oh honey we’ve got a big storm coming...

Favorite scene

We’re getting to the point now in the season where all these questions become a million times harder to answer. All the scenes have an oomph to them. All the characters are at their richest. All the performances go off. So forgive me for cheating and giving multiple answers from here on out most likely. So in 207, three answers jump to mind. 1) The sequence where Farkle is having his true meltdown, before “Santa Fe.” From a writing standpoint, I remember I was really proud with how that scene turned out. It was a fun challenge, trying to capture that anxiety and panic and loss of reality. A fun fact that you may or may not know is that nearly all of the lines of dialogue said by the hallucinated characters are repetitions or variations on dialogue that has actually already been said in the show, meant to highlight how Farkle’s brain has taken these (usually offhand) comments and held onto them obsessively and in some cases even warped them into something more antagonistic than they were. Then there was the pattern of tying the sentiments together into one overarching monologue of sorts, repeating that thematic word over and over, “enough.” It was just so fun to write, and I’m really happy with how it came together. 2) The Dylan, Lucas, and Asher argument in the booth. Ooh, buddy. This was a true turning point, both for the narrative and for Asher and Dylan as characters. To me, that is the scene where they rise from supporting characters to mains, and in some ways it’s a long time coming. I love how it highlights the imperfections at play between that trio, and the way that Lucas and Asher know exactly how to get at one another, but nothing gets me more than Dylan’s “HEY” and stepping in between them. How Dylan snapping seems to be what pulls Lucas out of his anger, and how Dylan’s anger only lasts seconds before it shifts into like shock / concern... ugh I love him. I love them! Definitely a standout scene, even back when I first wrote it, but even more so now that Dylan and Asher have such larger roles in the third season. 3) The unintentional coming out scene between Riley and Charlie. The whole thing is just rich with tension, like I love the moment where Charlie is like you can’t tell anyone you can’t -- and she just interrupts him and it goes dead silent until she’s emphatically like I would never tell anyone... like chills, bro. Chills. And the relief that comes from Riley finally understanding why he’s been acting the way he has... so good. The follow up to this choice is the Zay and Charlie scene at the end where the freedom of someone knowing seems to allow him the strength to kiss Zay in their studio... I love them. I love it all. Whew. 

Favorite performance

It’s getting hard... it’s getting tough to choose... like “Santa Fe” is up there because of the raw emotion of it and what it represents for Farkle and his arc. “Loser” is great too, mainly in concept, as we have Dasher acting as Lucas’s subconscious mind essentially and all of the cool choices in the production of the number. But I think I will have to go with “Waving Through A Window,” as that is such a standout performance in my opinion. It delivers emotionally, it has a cool flow and concept, there’s snow... whenever it comes on AMBITION shuffle I’m like oh yeah. Now we’re talking. And I love the visual of Isadora being stuck on the acting block / courtyard table, always inches from falling off the ledge but managing to avoid disaster. It’s just a really cool visual in my head. So that’s the top for me I think.

Favorite character (within context of the episode)

I literally can’t choose. I don’t know what to say. I think I’ll say maybe Charlie and Zay? Both in their storyline together as well as individuals. They’ve both got great solos (“Consideration” and “Exhale”), Charlie has his devolution emotionally and Zay finally (righteously) snaps at Angela. They find refuge, in Riley and Harper and of course each other. There are standout moments throughout the episode for their relationship -- holding hands at the top in the studio, Charlie hugging Zay in the hallway to comfort him and telling him it’s okay, the fraught moment of Charlie snapping at Zay about being at his locker which feels like a tiny unintentional step back, Charlie’s frazzled kiss on the cheek in public, the ending scene with another handhold and the softest kiss... ugh I love them. They were at a peak this episode, which makes sense considering what’s about to come...

Favorite line(s)

“You know what, you’ve got a lot to think about. Let me just get out of your hair. Best of luck with this next phase in your life, sir. Save a little social security for the rest of us provided climate change doesn’t kill us first!” --Lucas James Friar, to Eric

“I mean, but what am I going to do instead? Follow in the footsteps of my mom? I won’t survive veterinary school, Mister E. And you can only cure lung cancer once!” --Darby Winters

“Might be nice to help combat the impending danger of climate change and issues with renewable resources by studying environmental sciences or maybe aeronautical space engineering in pursuit of space materials that could be used as new energy sources. Ooh, or a rodeo clown!” --Dave Williams

“Actually, I’m near-sighted. But I wear contacts.” --Dylan Orlando, in response to Eric asking if his future plan is “short-sighted”

“I looked into “space cowboy,” but as it turns out you need a degree in aerospace engineering as well as a license to boy cows, and that seems like a lot of work. So then I thought, well, if I don’t have the capacity to work, what else is there in this capitalistic hell we call society? Sure, I could probably enter myself in human cage fights and scrap to death for spare change, but I think that would hurt after a while and to be honest, I think I’d feel a bit like a piece of meat if I took up that mantle. Who would I be fighting to impress? The bourgeoisie? Hard pass. But after some deep, probing soul-searching, I finally hit the one. Trophy husband. Now, I know what you’re thinking. To accomplish such a grand ambition, I’d have to get someone to like me. And that’s a pretty hefty task, believe me I know, but I’ve devised a work around. This is, as Dave would say, galaxy-brained thinking, Mister E. I’m going to put an ad on Craigslist.” --Lucas James Friar

“It’s easy to say you believe in someone. Showing up for them is a different story.” --Zay Babineaux

“We’re friends, Lucas. We care about you. Asher wasn’t lying about that. And when you decide you want to do something about this, we’ll be there. When you need us... we’re going to be there for you. No matter what.” --Dylan Orlando

“I don’t know if this will make you feel better or worse, but the truth is it all comes down to endurance. How long you can take it, how long you can stick it out until it ends up being your shot. The true test of who lives the dream is who hangs on… and who gives up.” --Harper Burgess

An underrated moment

There are so many it would be so hard for me to pick one if I thought about it too hard, so I’m gonna go with my gut. My favorite mini moment in the episode is during the end montage, when Dylan climbs in the window to comfort Asher. There’s a lot of small details I like about it that occur just within like 30 seconds -- Asher’s routine with crushing up his anxieties (a thing elaborated on in Cruel Summer), how commonplace it is for Dylan to climb in the window, and how he jumps into comfort mode and they both fall into that without any words at all. I just love it. And I can picture the way Dylan kisses his cheek and then his shoulder and then rests his head against him so perfectly... I adore them. They are angels.

First impression vs your reread impression

Obviously, even when I wrote this last year it felt major. Because it is. This is the turning point episode, literally and narratively. It’s smack in the middle, and from here I knew everything was going to be bigger and more, especially since we pulled the (metaphorical) trigger with Farkle. We knew that was a narrative risk, but we felt strongly about it, and we took every method we thought possible to set it up well, be cautious about it to y’all (with trigger warnings and hotlines, etc.), and then follow through on it in a way that balanced realism with care and attention. I think we managed to pull it off, but it was a great relief that you all reacted so well to it (in terms of the narrative, not like joyously LMAO) and trusted us to carry it forward. That kind of trust in a writer means a lot, and that’s what I’ll always remember when I think about this episode. Thankfully, we all survived it, and now here we are on the cusp of S3. Insane. And now onto 208... the storm is here...

[cruzrogue]

Perfect Party

#Fictober19 @fictober-event

————————————————————————

for fanfiction:

Prompt number: 15   “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Fandom (AU if applicable): #arrow fanfiction #olicity

Rating:PG13

Warnings/Tags: AngstyFluff

Summary: Continuation from prompt 14 College kids: Oliver and Megan (Felicity) become a couple and this is when he finds out her real first name as he tells his kids the story. 

Notes:(This became a monster… there was supposed be no angsty conversation but it happened anyway. I wrote to make another fluff piece but… Ah! Anyways here it is…)

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

Perfect Party on A03

  Cracking open another book to read. Oliver just gazes at where his tutor is sitting reading her own book. She’s plopped down using a sofa as a backrest as her slender legs are over an interior designer’s weird conversational piece. Her heavy long kneed boots are off to the side. She’s reading her least favorite subject of U.S. history as he is taking side notes as he’s reading his textbook of macro-economics. They are both bored out of their minds but they’re under a timer. These minutes belong to these textbooks and they have been both honoring this kind of system of studying.

Oliver won’t argue that since he first took in seriously studying with the help of the Goth girl he met in South Boston by a sidewalk in the late evening hour his grades have steadily improved. To this day she still adheres that she saved him from that lame party. He’ll never know if it was truly lame but he deeply doesn’t care. It’s the party that brought them together thus to him he has no qualms of ever knowing.

The little ding in the background goes off and he lets out a content sigh. He can’t help but watch Megan stretch out like a cat and he inwardly groans because they’re not at that stage of their relationship. She looks so damn sexy all the time and he’s learned that cold showers don’t always work because she’s now always on his mind.

“I’m hungry!”

He’s learned that she has a very vast appetite. As long as tree nuts are not on the menu she can have it all. “What are you hungry for?”

She shrugs but says anyways, “You pick, I chose last time.”

“Greasy or no?”

“Does it matter? You have full control of the pick. Even that rabbit food you’ve successfully added to my diet.”

“Okay, okay! So, I feel like a cheeseburger and some fries.”

He can see the moment that her excitement for meat comes to the forefront as she does this cute gesture of raising her hand in a fist bump.  

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

He just chuckles and it has her cozying up to him as her lips finds his. Mmm… this part of their relationship is gotta be the best. Every kiss they share is full of sizzling potential and they’ve never crossed any lines. For now, they are taking everything slow. She has this thing about slow burn and her explaining it to him was a doozy. Her words cycle around his mind as she’s making herself comfortable on his lap as the phrase refers to stories featuring characters who gradually and naturally fall in love or lust before beginning a romantic or sexual relationship. He won’t suggest to her again that their already in some sort of romantic relationship because it led to her thinking things through the first time and it landed him cursing himself as he lost out on more intimate moments. Yep, he shot his foot off with that mistake he learned not to do it again.

He holds her closer to him enjoying that her chest bumps against his and he knows she can feel how excited he is but she just doesn’t mention it ever. This is girl is becoming a staple in his world and the thought of him now graduating next year while she’ll still be working for her double major has made its presence in his psyche. She just too incredible and they’ve been together for over two semesters now.

The fact that he doesn’t even notice other females has been brought to his attention several times by his male buddies. Using his studies as an excuse he’s keeping more to himself and interacting on a down low with any college partying frat boys. Being honest with himself has been hard. It’s one of the things that has made his growth possible. It would put a lot of stress on his relationship with Megan if she were the sole reason for the changes. Because she doesn’t want to be his savior but he knows her well enough that she believes more in equality. Sharing burdens and stuff. Things he has learned about her through conversations over long noir films, studying moments, and these wonderful make out sessions.

Her perfect weight on his lap not only does things to him but feeling her beside him all the emotions he has deep inside have a way of coming out slowly and after all these long weeks together he wants to tell her that he’s in love with her. He thought about being cheesy a few times but she’d be so disappointed if he went that route. Not on the declaration of love but using time tested romcom samples that are overboard. He finds she has big tastes on technology but doesn’t fancy jewelry given by really anyone.

He landed up giving her signed poster of music groups she loves or that one actress she adores from her favorite show they watch. Buying her a convention ticket to see these people she can recite story lines was like he got down on one knee and proposed. It was amazing how excited she was.

One thing they’re both of aware of is their different social-economics and he is careful to not overwhelm her with family’s status. It would spook her away. It took a bit from him when she found he comes from a wealthy family not to lose her back then. Just lucky they share a close connection.

“Megan, you are such a nerd.”

“I am not apologizing for liking meat.”

He chuckles. “I meant the fist bump. That is such a geeky thing to do.”

She shrugs her shoulder she’s done a lot of other nerdy things she won’t apologize even if he’s just teasing. She shrugs her shoulders she’s done a lot of other nerdy things she won’t apologize even if he’s just teasing. “But you like the thought of me liking meat?” For the first time in their relationship she grinds against him and his eyes become so wide as he is flabbergasted at her forwardness.

“I… I”

“Is Mr. sexy pants mute?”

He nods still wondering what his temptress is doing. Her fingers softly messaging his scalp through the light cropped hair she seems to like. Gosh he’s even sporting scruff that has her kissing his neck since she told him to cut off the beard deep in December after he grew out his facial hair for no shave November. Keeping it trim to this day many months later. Anything that he notices or she out right tells him how much she likes or hates something has him keep to a beauty regimen. Not that he hasn’t had some little says in her own little routines. Like a certain fragrance he admiringly associates with her.

“We are on a break; I’m going to eat a juicy burger and what isn’t there to love?”

“Megan? That isn’t the reason I’m surprised.”

“Hmm… I need to confess something to you and I need you not to get upset.”

Just as quickly as he is aroused, he becomes paranoid that something is going to break this perfection that they have going on.

“As much as I love how you say Megan…”

“Baby I love your name.”

“It’s actually my middle name.” The frozen look on his face has her worried that he may think she’s lied about many other important things. “There is nothing else I’ve kept from you, I just liked using Megan and the way you’d say Meg or Maggie or any other variations just was so perfect but…”

He isn’t totally convinced. He doesn’t understand how she kept something as monumental from him. Everywhere they went he introduced her as Megan his girlfriend. She has yet to meet his parents but the name Megan has fallen from hips a million times conversing with family and friends.

“I mean in reality Megan is still my name.”

He pushes her off slightly and she moves so he can get up. “No!” He just walks to a window in his apartment. They always hang out here because she lives in a dorm. “To think some of your friends having to go along with this farce when they call you by your real name.”

“Oliver? That isn’t the case. I introduce myself to a lot of people as Megan.”

“Really? And how many of these people think about you? Truly care about you? Even dream of you? Simply as what your middle name is?”

She makes a joke of it, “My mother calls me by my whole name either when she’s really happy or annoyed with me.”

“That is supposed to make me feel better?” He is now really agitated. “You don’t get to make this into a joke. Here I am opening myself to you and I don’t even know your name.” He looks away from her. Not allowing her sorrow to change how angry he is becoming.

She knows she in deep trouble he is right and she played the whole name thing lightly not seeing it through his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I would have continued calling you Megan if you have this horrendous name you didn’t want to share at first. Though whatever it is I would love it. Just because it’s a part of you.”

“Wow! I guess I’m a stupid fool I never put much stock into it but I should have and I am really sorry.”

He finally slowly turns to look at his girlfriend and it strikes him he doesn’t even know her name. She can see the realization in his face as he just stares at her blankly.

“It’s Felicity, Felicity Megan Smoak.”

If she thought the frozen look on his face before was concerning whatever is going through her mind is really a shocker.  

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

When Oliver pauses it has his kids on edge. He’s telling the story in a cleaner version of how he learned his wife’s first name. It seems telling his kids this as they wait for their mother to come home may have not been the wisest idea.

“Dad what happened?”

“Yes daddy, did you break up?”

The youngest being so innocent and not truly understanding relationships asks if they ever made up.

Oliver checks his phone and a text by Felicity telling him she’s running late. She finishing up from another conference meeting so he continues on with the story. She’ll be home soon.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

“Felicity… Fe-li-ci-ty.” He just says her name one more time, “Felicity! I don’t get it. It’s actually a very beautiful name.”

“It’s a cheesy name. It means happiness, I’m a Goth girl.”

Oliver sighs he really doesn’t get it. She has been making him happy all these months. The name is perfect. Now that he knows the truth. As much as she’s been Megan from now on, he’ll always think of her has Felicity. What is the most important matter to him is how long he will get to know Felicity? It seems that maybe he had more emotional attachment to her than she has had of him. Maybe her tutoring him and having him mastering his academia is a thrill for her. She’s one of a kind who is he to really know what goes through that mind of hers? Only that he’d be devastated because along the way he gave her his heart even if he hasn’t said so its implied.

“I know your mad, I guess I really screwed up and I’m sorry.”

“It makes me wonder if I’m just an experiment. A fixer upper that you…”

Felicity looks horrified as she cuts him off, “Oh no. No! You’ve been nothing but the perfect dream. I’m always worried I’d wake up and you’d be over me. Falling in love with you was so easy.” She catches what she just said and her hand goes to her mouth. He is about to break up with her and she’s telling him she loves him. She can be such a fool.

“I couldn’t be over you even if I wanted to.” He doesn’t mention the whole falling in love that could just be faux pas said in haste.

Felicity aches now knowing that he doesn’t even think her declaration of falling for him is seen real to him. That stings. “I should go.”

“That is probably for the best.” Yet neither move. The air is thick with unsaid words as their emotions are crumbling with angst.

Felicity is a smart girl she knows if she walks out there won’t be a them any longer. The them that has been crafted over time. She sucks in a breath; she created this mess and she needs to fix it. “I can’t apologize enough for how my careless way of thinking of things in simplest of facts.” She won’t go without at least telling him how much she loves him. “It being a name.” She sighs as she glances at him and watching that he is listening gives her some hope. “I didn’t take to account the emotional side of all this.” Taking a small pause, “You mean the world to me. Oliver, I love you so much…” She tearing up. “That love is from all of me. Felicity Megan Smoak the daughter of Donna and also a father named Noah who I haven’t seen since I was seven.”

Talking about her parents is like pulling teeth. He knows it hard for her so this acknowledgement means something. She really is trying to amend the situation. It really is just a name. It’s not like he doesn’t know how clinical she can be in her thinking process.

“Noah is a fool of a man letting go of such a bright amazing girl.” He moves up to her just like when they met.

“Maybe I just wasn’t…”

“Shh.” He’s looking down to her, “His failure isn’t your own.” He wipes a few stray tears she has let go. “You mean the world to me too.”

“I do?”

“I love you.” He cups her face and finally kisses the one who has his heart.

Still having his hands on her face, she inquires, “Does that mean you forgive me?”

With a sigh his eyes searching hers, “Of course I’d forgive you. We’ll always see some things differently and there will always be fights that are bound to happen.”

“I don’t like fighting.”

He leans in to kiss her as he tells her the same thing.

She’s a little forward in rubbing her hands just under his shirt. “I heard making up is supposed to be…”

He stops her. They haven’t crossed that line yet and he’ll be damn if their first time is happening this way. “I love you Meg…” He closes his eyes this is going to take some getting used to. “Felicity Smoak but I’m still processing this whole name thing and when we take the next step it won’t be after an argument.”

She nods in agreement.

“So, what about some burgers?”

Felicity stops him from leaving her space as she now holds him to her as she raises on her tiptoes to kiss him.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

As the door in the back where it leads to the mudroom opens and Oliver takes a pause as his kids are listening to a very clean version of when he found out Megan was indeed Felicity’s middle name. He looks to the newest addition sitting in the high chair just happily gnawing on a teeth ring. Oblivious to his siblings’ excitement until he hears his mother’s voice and all of a sudden his son a babbling genius. A pang of jealousy hit Oliver as his little munchkin doesn’t show him that kind of welcome.

“Mom’s home.”

Felicity welcomes her two youngest with open arms and gives them kisses than she hugs her eldest as she slowly walks into her husband’s embrace. It doesn’t take long for their youngest to disapprove and want his mother’s sole attention.

“Sorry, hi there handsome.” She’s kissing the baby as the other kids settle back down. She looks at the expecting faces and makes sure to look at her husband as she asks, “Did I miss something?”

“I was just telling them about when I learned Felicity was your first name.” She gives him a weary look. “Don’t worry it was the PG version.”

“Did mommy come off as a clown?” She regrets saying those words as her kids start to asking about clowns. She just meant if she came off sounding awful but now she’s denying any clowns were a part of the story their father told them. Oliver is just off to the side observing his wife having to explain herself ah yes those memories fill his mind as he has his lips puckered up. She sure can dig a hole for herself. As he recalls the true lustful events of that study session.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

“So, what about some burgers?”

“Oliver? I am hungry!” She doesn’t wait for him to truly understand as she already hopping onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist as her lips find that particular spot that has him growl and that’s the purr of his she needs. He catches on quick as he has to keep them from falling as his girl is doing things to him. He unfailingly finds the perfect spot a few steps away to allow her to continue doing this most erogenous thing to his body as she certainly rubs herself on him.

He’s losing the ability to think because just a moment ago he was against this scenario and now his body pretty much told his mind to shut up.  He sinking down deeper onto the sofa she used as a backrest earlier.

There is lips and teeth and the occasion tongue and oh those moans that have both of them panting as they seem to be so lost in each other. Succulent skin that deserves the devotion as hands seem to roam and sweet nips upon each other’s skin only raises the stakes to needing more. Sweet words spilled as some gasps of warm sweet air spurs stimuli onto their hair follicles making for the most enticing shivers.

Felicity has been ready for this for a while, the thought of Oliver’s palms caressing her without barriers of any kind. Even pondering wet dreams of the friction she mostly thirsts for that only he can quench.

At first she teased him. Their relationship wasn’t formed the bonds they have now wasn’t there and it was easy to promise things like promiscuity. Fortunately for them It didn’t work like that because they found that it wasn’t just an attraction that kept them coming to each other’s orbit. They truly sought one another just to discourse what was actually happening in their lives. Until they couldn’t fathom not having the intertwined lives they were leading. Good and bad shared, memories of past conversations, voices becoming lullabies at night and waking thoughts of the other person in mundane tasks. They were falling in love.

It took a stomach rumble which neither could tell if it was theirs but they pulled away laughing. They were good. Though they pulled away from the other knowing that it really wasn’t the right time to go further. There is no hurry.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

“Come to find out your mommy was very hungry.” Oliver chuckles as his wife actually accidentally demonstrates his point. She is hungry.

The kids try to follow their parents story but there are so many vague points they have no idea what actually happened. They just know that their dad found out what their mom’s name was and that was the end. There was kissing. More kissing. As they watch their dad pull their mom into another hug they know another kiss will happen.

[curiosity-killed]

soulmates and soft spots

I wrote this on the way to the Galapagos but apparently never posted it, so! here’s a rando soulmate AU of my own writing brought to you by @ax100 ​‘s original idea <3

Wordcount: 1455

Soulmates, so far as they exist, are a weakness.

By the time he can speak, Callebero has heard variations on that same statement so many times he could fill libraries with their record. The only imperator princep to have had a soulmate cured that failing by using their bond to kill their soulmate and take over their lands. There’s an epic about it in the Ballad, but the soulmate’s name only appears three times while descriptions of the prince’s ruthlessness fill most the hundred-and-twenty stanzas.

“Why?” he asks his mamán.

“It’s never good to rely too much on one person, my starling,” she says absently, “soulmate or not. But soulmates do make you especially vulnerable.”

He frowns, not wholly satisfied with that answer. But when Mamán ruffles his hair and kisses the crown of his head, it’s hard to doubt her. As she pulls him up into her lap, an echo of happiness sweeps through him, and he lets it go.

---

��I love you’ isn’t often said in their household. When one of Sirion’s parents wants to tell the other, they simply reach out to touch fingertips to the back of the other’s palm and elicit a small, private smile. With Sirion, they always sign it or kiss his forehead or pick him up and swing him about till he beams with silent laughter. Theirs is a quiet house in all.

‘Mamán, how come people don’t want soulmates?’ he asks after a particularly rough day of classes.

They’d been reading about a battle from history, the Victory of Damantia against their soulmate. He’d been one of the only students not to applaud at the end. Then, as he’d walked home, he’d been hit by a wave of grief so hard it stole his breath and brought tears to his eyes. It had subsided but returned in waves, gradually growing numb. Even now, the feeling is a cold weight in his chest.

Mamán sighs and bites her lip as she looks to Malán. They rest their hand on her shoulder but say nothing.

‘Soulmates are hard to understand,’ she finally answers, ‘and people often don’t like what they don’t understand.’

Sirion frowns, a new worry gnawing at him. When he lifts his hands again, it’s with more hesitation, unsure he wants the answer.

‘What if my soulmate doesn’t want me?’ he asks.

“Oh, love,” his malán says, crouching to pull him into their arms.

It doesn’t make the worry go away, but it helps. He wills the warmth from their arms towards the aching hollow he can still feel under his ribs.

---

“What if I meet them?”

He’s staring at his wrists as he says it, at the fresh black bands curving over the skin there. A scar peeks out from under one, a pink crescent from where he broke his arm nearly ten years before.

“I don’t think Alir would want you asking my opinion on soulmates,” Fran says, brusque. “She made her views quite clear on all that.”

Callebero doesn’t bother refuting her. He’s never been sure of his place between his mamán and her older sister. He isn’t sure that now, after so long, it would do anything to tell Fran how Alir had always asked after her, always treasured what little tidbits Callebero had been able to give her as a child. He pulls his legs up to his chest.

Fran sighs and turns around.

“If you meet them, then you meet them,” she says. “You owe them nothing – you most of all. You’re the imperator princep. You could have them executed if you so desired, and there would be no one to question it.”

Her arms are crossed, expression flat, and Callebero can only briefly meet her eyes before he has to look away. She’d faced the same dilemma before him – worse, really. She’d been years from having the force of the throne behind her and had already met her soulmate. Even then, she hadn’t wavered or doubted like he now does. Courage, it seems, isn’t an inherited trait.

“I should go,” Callebero says, dropping off the bed. “The guard will be waiting.”

There’s a new lieutenant – Sirion or something – to be introduced.

---

He sees the prince go down entirely by chance. As he checks his right flank, a quick glance, he sees the prince falter and then buckle.

NO. He’s not sure, at the time, where it originates, that rush of anger and fear. Maybe it’s that he can feel his soulmate’s exhaustion and pain on top of his own and together it’s all too much. Maybe it’s just duty. Maybe he already knows.

He doesn’t remember the path to the prince, only grabbing hold and pulling him up to his side. His sleeve’s torn through where blood runs from a messy gash, and Sirion’s fingers dig in there.

The world stills.

I’m going to die.

The words are sluggish, dazed, but Sirion still hears them as clearly as if they’d formed in his own mind. He doesn’t freeze, can’t afford to, but the shock is enough for their enemy to land a glancing blow.

I’m going to die, the prince thinks again. Here, of all places.

Pulling himself together, Sirion forces himself to move with his precious burden half-limp at his side. What little energy he can spare is focused into a single, adamant thought.

No you’re not.

Their retreat is a blur, as is losing Callebero to the medics. He’s left feeling less whole, somehow, than he was moments before.

It’s nearly a month till he sees the prince again. Jemma summons him, unexpectedly unreadable, and leaves him at the door to the prince’s private study. He can’t decide what’s more unsettling: the solitude or her sympathetic look as she left.

It doesn’t help that Callebero has apparently been studiously attempting to shake their bond; Sirion will get moments of emotion only to have them abruptly shunted off into affected apathy. It’s enough to have him nearly nauseous. If he could, if he hadn’t suddenly been thrust into Timarin’s role, he thinks he’d take the day off and go visit his parents. As it stands, that isn’t an option.

“Good morning,” the prince greets, brusque, when he finally enters. “I believe congratulations are in order.”

Sirion bows and straightens fully before he replies.

‘Thank you, Your Eminence,’ he signs. ‘I can only hope to honor her memory well.’

Callebero nods but doesn’t immediately reply, and for a moment, Sirion almost thinks that’s all this is – a passing of the torch. But this close, Callebero can’t hide his emotions, and the tangled fear-hope-dread that worms secondhand through Sirion’s chest is enough to tell him it’s a foolish hope.

“I don’t have a soulmate,” Callebero says suddenly.

Sirion blinks and stares back, caught wordless by the declaration.

“The imperator princep can’t have a soulmate,” Callebero continues. “It’s a liability. A weakness.”

He wears the high-collared layers of court, cinched up to his neck and down to his wrists. Even his hands were covered by fine leather gloves, but Sirion doesn’t need to touch him to feel the pain radiating through him. Pain – and fear. Frowning, he takes half a step forward and lifts his hands to sign.

‘You are the imperator princep,’ he begins, ‘and my loyalty to you is sworn. I would sooner die than forfeit it. But you are also my soulmate – and that doesn’t have to be a weakness.’

Callebero gives a little shudder and looks away. His expression is tightly controlled, but Sirion can feel the turmoil underneath like a second set of lungs.

‘I won’t demand anything of you,’ he continues, ‘but I’m always going to be here – this will always be here. All you have to do is accept it.’

The turmoil tightens to a bowstring thrum under his skin. Abruptly, Callebero looks down and tugs off one of his gloves by the fingers. Surprise stills Sirion’s breath, leaves him gawking at Callebero as he crosses the room in a few long strides. His expression is grim, but Sirion still doesn’t hesitate to give his hand when Callebero extends his own.

As before, there’s a jolt when their skin touches, the undeniable sensation of a missing piece slotting into place at last. Callebero meets his gaze.

A braver person would, he says, clear as a bell. But I am not a brave person, and there is too much risk.

He starts to pull away, done with the conversation, but Sirion holds firm and wills him to meet his eyes. When he does, that fear is still clear, but underneath it, there’s a tremulous hope. That soft flutter is what keeps Sirion from letting go.

Then let me be brave for you.

[eledritch]

10 Tips for Writing (Good) Smut

so. let’s do this.

About a year ago, I had to read a book for my school’s summer reading assignment called How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas Foster. It’s not a bad book, pretty decent actually, but there was this one chapter about sex scenes in literature. And one of the first sentences was along the lines of “writing sex is boring.”

and I did a double-take. Bc in my experience, that is absolutely not the case, and if you do find yourself bored while writing smut, then you’re not doing it right. See, Thomas’s main argument was that there’s only so many ways you can write sex scenes, because there’s only so many sex acts you can choose from. (My boy Thomas is clearly a vanilla dude, but let’s not hold that against him.) 

But one of the most important things to keep in mind while writing smut is that it’s not necessarily just about the act itself. So while Thomas is right that there are limits as to how many ways ppl can have sex, he failed to realize that writing sex is about a LOT more than that. And I’m gonna prove it to you.

Just to get it out of the way, I’ve been writing smut for about 6 years now. I’m 18 now, so yeah, been doin’ this since I was 12. Which is a little weird, thinking back on it, but honestly I think it’s healthy for adolescents/young teens to explore their sexualities and learn about sex in a safe, controlled setting like writing fanfiction has been for me. 

It was a better sex ed than anything else I got in Arizona, that’s for sure. And for the record, I’m a virgin and I don’t believe you need to have sex to be good at writing it. Conversely, you could have sex a hundred times and still not be good at writing it. The important thing is that you EDUCATE yourself and do your research so you know what the heck you’re writing about.

When I first started writing smutty fics in middle school, they were pretty bad. Not the worst, but not good either. Don’t let the seemingly simple nature of writing sex fool you - it can be really hard (ha, ha). Even if you’re a good writer, you might try to write a sex scene and find yourself slogging through it because you, like my boy Thomas, are focusing only on the act itself. that’s a mistake. don’t do that. 

Which brings me to this list of 10 things you SHOULD do:

1. You gotta get in the right mood. By this I don’t mean you need to be horny to write smut, you absolutely don’t, in fact you probably shouldn’t bc you're likely to get distracted. What I mean is that if you wanna write vanilla, sweet, slow love makin’, then you should be in a good or at least halfway decent mood. Get comfy. Make yourself a warm drink. 

Don’t try to write sweet sex if you’re angry or upset or sick or in pain - it’s either gonna turn into not sweet sex, or it’s gonna take you a long-ass time. Case in point, I tried to write a tender blowjob scene shortly after getting my wisdom teeth removed and just couldn’t do it, because ow, can you even imagine.

But you can use those negative moods/emotions to your advantage, too. If you're having a bad day, it’s actually a great catharsis to take those feelings out in your writing. You can apologize to your characters later - or maybe you’ll work out all your pent-up rage halfway through a brutal scene and turn it into something a little less intense, that works just as well!

2. Do your research. Research is important before you dive into any piece of writing, but it’s a necessary step for writing smut. If you’re a virgin or have no experience with the kind of sex you’re writing about, you’re gonna have to do some Googling. You don’t need to look up porn, porn honestly grosses me out and isn’t my favorite thing to draw from, but you do need to know the complete ins-and-outs (ha...) of whatever act you’re writing about. 

A good way to do research is to read other fanfics, popular fanfics by seasoned authors who have gained a large following/a lot of attention by writing the right stuff. You can also check out posts by people who actually gave tips to fanfic writers, there are several by gay guys which are helpful if you’re not a gay guy and you’re writing a sex scene about gay guys. They’re the authority, listen to them over the fanfic authors.

If you’re delving into something like BDSM in your writing, do your research on that, too. Don’t misrepresent people and practices just because you didn’t bother to learn about them. If you’re not willing to learn about them, you’re not going to be able to write about them. 

Oh, and lastly, but not leastly, LUBE. if your characters are having anal sex especially, they need to use lube, my dude. the human body made that rule, not me.

3. Write empathetically. It’s unavoidable - when you’re writing smut, you have to learn how to put yourself into the shoes of the POV character. This can be kinda challenging if, for instance, you don’t have a dick and having a dick is very important for the POV character to make that scene work. But that’s what your imagination is for - use it. 

Think about how this character would experience this situation not just in terms of the obvious sensations they’re feeling, whether pain or pleasure, but also in terms of their thoughts, their emotions, their memories, etc. A lot of good characterization can happen during sex scenes, and it makes me sad that all too often writers don’t take advantage of that. 

4. Don’t be afraid of using repetitive words. Sex is a repetitive act, get that through your head before you write it. One of the most irritating things I come across while reading smut is the author’s need to use endless synonyms for ‘cock.’ Stop. Please stop. Cock is fine. You can use ‘dick’ too if you really wanna add some variation. But anymore than that, and it’s just downright distracting. Don’t use member, penis (just...not a sexy word, at all), organ (NOT SEXY), etc - use length, prick, and erection sparingly if at all, and boner is more of a funny word than a sexy word, so keep that in mind. I’ve also seen ‘manhood’ used and i mean....i guess??? but why would you use that when you can accomplish the same thing in 4 much better letters? C O C K. just do it.

alternately, when referring to parts of a cock, just stick to the basics. shaft, head/tip/crown, balls. that’s it. maybe talk about veins if you’re gettin real detailed. you don’t need to wax poetic about it, or about the actions within the sex itself. you’ll find yourself reusing a lot of verbs and that’s ok! the usuals may include (but are not limited to) - thrust, buck, shove, press, slide, glide, ride, fuck, bounce, drive (into), arch, kiss, suck, bite, stroke, smack, slap, rock, embrace, squeeze, tremble, shudder, moan, groan, whine, whimper, hiss, shout, scream, gasp, curse, beg, sob, grunt, sigh.

5. Understand connotations vs denotations of words. This is an important tip not just for smut writing but for any writing. Words that may be ‘synonyms’ in terms of definition may not actually be synonymous. This can be an issue if English isn’t your first language - even if it is, it still trips people up. ‘Shudder’ and ‘tremble’ are both defined as someone’s body shaking, but they have different meanings! Shudder is more violent/intense, more of a full-body kinda deal and often more negative in connotation (i.e. ‘shudder of fear’). Tremble is more subtle, and more of a localized thing (i.e. his hands trembled) and connotates nervousness or apprehension more than outright fear - or it can be used to convey a more subdued/internalized fear. There are situations in which they can be interchangeable, and situations in which they really aren’t.

Understanding exactly what words mean will help you know when to use them and make your writing more fluid, comprehensible, and realistic for the reader. 

6. Avoid using cliche/overused phrases. For the love of god, don’t use the phrase ‘their tongues battled for dominance.’ I’M BEGGING YOU. listen, i’m guilty as charged, i’m sure i wrote it at some point in my earlier days, but don’t make the same mistake! not only does the phrase have some troubling implications about the perception of m/m relationships (in which the phrase is almost exclusively found) as little more than a fight for dominance, it’s just...that’s not how kissing works? 

Your tongues don’t battle, that’s not a good description for it. Why would you use a cliche phrase like that when you can talk about teeth clashing, tongues pressing, mouths sliding/slipping, biting at lips, hair pulling, nails scratching, hands grasping, pulses racing, and everything else that goes into kissing? Using phrases that many have used before you is a lazy way out and it dulls your imagery and the reader’s immersion into the story. 

7. Think for yourself while writing and be original! It’s the only way you’re going to find your unique voice, or writing style, which often shines through in smut-writing and sets yours apart from the rest. Writing mediocre smut is easy, but if you’re reading this, you don’t want to go that route. While it’s helpful to draw from other smut writers when you’re getting started, you need to be able to draw from your own mind above all. 

Yeah, it’s true that your fifth grade teacher probably didn’t mean ‘brainstorm new and exciting sex positions and scenarios’ when she said ‘be creative.’ But you’re not in fifth grade anymore (or at least, you better not be), and that’s what I mean when I’m telling you to be creative right now. 

Developing your voice/originality happens through a variety of ways, including plain old practice, trial and error, and understanding the technicalities of writing. What I mean by that is remembering all the stuff your English teacher taught you about - imagery, figurative speech, idioms, irony, dialogue, diction, syntax, figurative devices, metaphors, simile, etc. Speaking of which...

8. Everybody loves a big, dramatic sex metaphor once in a while. This is tricky, because you really shouldn’t overdo this - if you do, you risk making your smut the most pretentious, unreadable piece ever. Metaphors tend to do that when you use them without discretion. But when you choose and use them carefully, you can turn a sex scene into something more meaningful, both for the character and the story as a whole. 

If you’re just writing a quickie in a club bathroom, don’t bother with this (unless that quickie was life-changing and birthed the spark of TRUE LOVE between your characters, which is entirely possible, no judgment, I’m happy for them). But if you’re writing about your character losing their virginity, having sex with someone who means a lot to them, having sex with someone who just returned from a long absence/is leaving them for a long time, etc...you may wanna make things a little ~deep~ for a second. 

I’m not gonna tell you exactly how to write your sex metaphors because you’ll know when and how to use them if the occasion presents itself and if you have your voice figured out. Talk about bodies being more than bodies, lips being like brands of fire, whispers being sacred vows, orgasms being fuckin’ nirvana, idk, orgasms are tricky because sometimes people will write ‘his orgasm RIPPED through him’ and you’re like ??? is he okay? that sounded painful...

You can see how metaphors can quickly make a story exhausting/confusing/unenjoyable if you use them too much. But once in a while? Man, go for it. 

9. Humor is key. This is perhaps one of the most important tips I have for you, because personally it’s improved my smut writing the most, as well as made the whole activity a lot more fun. Smut is supposed to be an enjoyable thing to read. But no matter how arousing/hot/absolutely obscene you make it, some readers are going to get bored. I said earlier that sex is a repetitive act, it just is. Your goal is to make it sexy AND entertaining. You want to keep the reader engaged. 

And humor is the best way, I’ve found, to do that. A lot of fanfiction sex is guilty of being too perfect. Try to steer clear of that. As tempting as it can be to make a sex scene where everything works without a hitch and everyone is serious, fully consumed with love/arousal, etc, there is something genuinely delightful about writing the awkward, funny parts of sex, too. They don’t have a place in every scene, but in many, especially first times/trying new things, they’re great. Not only does adding humor make your characters seem more human and likable, it makes the bond between them seem more real and makes the reader more attached to them.

And isn’t that the point? Your readers aren’t gonna to want to read about flat characters they can’t relate to or straight-up dislike, no matter how hot the sex is. 

10. Don’t forget the little things. This final point goes back to what Thomas got wrong in his book. Sex should NOT be boring to write. Don’t write on the surface about what’s happening, adjust the lens through which you, the character/s, and the reader view it. Write about the sex itself but also write about the little things (not your character’s dick, don’t be mean) - the freckles on their lover’s shoulder, the fading bruises on their neck, the way their lover’s hair feels against their skin, all the not-obvious sensations that add realism and a spark to the scene that sets it apart. 

This goes for non-tactile things as well - maybe your character has ADD or is just distracted easily, and goes off on tangents of thought (or speech) during sex. Maybe they’re really fascinated with a certain aspect of their partner/s, like their eyes or mouth or hands or the sounds they make. Maybe they notice small details about the setting - the smell of the sheets is comforting, the crack on the ceiling reminds them of their bedroom back home, the weird deer head on the wall looks like it’s staring at them, the possibilities are literally endless. It’s up to you how you want to use them, but please - use them. 

So in summary, no, Thomas, writing sex - and reading it, for that matter - shouldn’t be boring. It’s an excellent way to further characterization, improve your writing, find your voice, and make your story overall a better one.

[blueincandescence]

An Excerpt from “Variations on the Word Sleep”

In before midnight! Here’s an excerpt from Chapter 6 of Variations on the Word Sleep, because I couldn’t finish (ha) on time. 1,600 words of unbeta’d Veld smut under the cut. Starts in medias res.

wondertrevweek day 5: porn without plot

Diana has made it through the buttons on his shirt, now she’s working on the ones for his longjohns. She murmurs, “Your people wear too many layers.”

Steve is still chuckling when Diana reaches the skin she has been in search of. Her lips find the slash on his shoulder first. To imagine she may have remembered that scar from the pools, thought about tasting it — Steve draws a shuddering breath.

Diana pulls back, and he takes the opportunity to assess. His shirt has joined the pile on the floor, and his longjohns are folded over his belt. He follows her eyes down to the muscles bunching over his stomach. Expression thoughtful, Diana reaches out to trace him there and under the curve of his pectorals. The light strokes of her fingertips make him flex hard, less out of vanity and more to keep from shivering. “I have only seen a form like yours in sketches of the great statues.”

The grin he can’t tamp down. “Are you saying I’m a work of art?”

Finding more scars to trace, she replies, “You have too many imperfections to be art. You are a warrior.”

What could he possibly say to such a compliment? So Steve kisses her. And Diana presses herself to him, the leather of her skirt flattening against the front of his trousers. He roves her armor, feeling for latches and hooks. His arms fall away when she shows him up again, her nimble fingers unhooking his belt.

A nervous huff of laughter issues from somewhere deep in his fluttering stomach. Needing a moment to remind himself he is a man in his thirties and not a schoolboy, Steve backs away to take care of his boots. Diana does the same for herself. He busies himself collecting their things and moving them to the closet. He hangs her coat and then his jacket, and something about they way they look together reminds him, in the grand scheme of things, how short a time one night is.

“Steve.”

He turns to find Diana barefooted, the incredible length of her legs on display. The muscles of her thighs ripple as she pads over to him. He helps her divest him of his trousers. Her lips part at the absurd tent in his longjohns, the head of his cock straining against thin cotton. Diana glances up at his face, then down again. Steve takes over for her, unbuttoning the last few buttons and stripping down.

He straightens, his cock bare and bobbing. Steve has seen the kinds of depictions of the male form Diana mentioned. And he knows the difference an erection makes to his own dimensions. He tries not to preen, he does. Fails miserably, of course.

Diana’s eyebrow lifts in challenge. Her fingers go to the catches Steve found earlier and, in the time it takes him to draw a breath to hold, she’s opened the armor from the back to reveal a set of undergarments made of thin leather dyed the same regal blue as her skirt. After setting her armor to the side, she runs her thumbs underneath the band wound around her chest. “Strophium,” she instructs, and removes it. Unbound, her pert breasts sway with her deep breathing. In the low light of the room, her nipples are a prominent, dusky rose. Her thumbs hook into the sides of the bottoms — “Tunica,” she says — and slides them down her hips and to the floor. Tossing her hair, Diana draws herself to her full height, and, Jesus in heaven, Steve has to lock his knees to keep from falling at her feet.

Only her bracers remain. Diana holds one arm out toward him in a gesture that is too fluid not to be ritual. Swallowing his questions, he slides his hand from her forearm to cradle her elbow. She turns the catches up to him. Bowing his head, he kisses the inside of her elbow before opening the bracer and kissing down the length of her pale forearm. For more of the soft, shuddery sounds she makes, he gives the same attention to her other forearm. When he has laid a final kiss onto her wrist, he places her braces on top of the chest that holds the rest of her armor.

They are fully naked now, man and Amazon. Roughly the same height. She is all subtle curves and hard planes. For all that she is a warrior, her skin gleams golden perfection in the firelight.

Nothing between them now, yet they resume their first, chaste touches. Steve’s hands come up to cup her cheeks. Diana holds him at his nape. Their kiss is an oddly tremorous sort of thing. The first time the hard line of her hip brushes the side of his cock, Steve sucks in a gasp that Diana takes advantage of with her tongue. Her fingers find the ridges of his stomach again, skimming toward a thatch of tawny pubic hair. She explores instead the deep lines at his hips, each bold touch just missing his cock.

“You can — ” Steve clears his throat. “Uh, you can tou — touch it if...If you want.” He is grateful for the lighting, which must hide the deepest hues of his flush.

There is sincerity in her eyes when Diana replies, “Thank you.” Her fingertips continue to tease as they travel up the lines of his hips to the high curve of his ass. She steps around him. “Oh, Steve,” she murmurs, and he realizes she hasn’t seen his back before. Blunt nails find the edges of old wounds. Then her fingers curl into the corded muscles over his shoulder blades. She drops kisses there, the tip of her nose drawing a line down his spine, and nips at the contours above each of his ass cheeks. The shudder that elicits ends any hope he’s had of maintaining a regular breathing pattern. Diana steps behind him, every inch of her smooth body flush against him. Her nipples drag along his back as she leans around. Mouth gone dry, Steve waits it out until Diana’s own curiosity demands to be satisfied. A warm palm closes around his shaft at the base. Steve snaps his teeth shut over a groan that reverberates in his ribs.

She strokes his cock in a loose hold. Lips to his ear, Diana asks, “This is how men pleasure themselves?”

Throat too tight for words, Steve lifts Diana’s wrist to lick her palm before returning it to his shaft. He curls his hand around hers to adjust her grip. A few strokes with her, then she takes over.

His brain is so lit up, he can hardly remember that their roles should be reversed. He is the one with experience in the opposite sex. He is the one with an unfair conclusion to disprove. But Diana is a quick study. Finding the slick of his precum advantageous, she adds a twisting motion of her own invention. The connections Steve has with parts of his body other than his cock weaken. He finds himself leaning on Diana, whose strength is more than enough to hold him up. With her free hand, she pulls his head to rest on her shoulder. Perhaps gathering evidence for volume thirteen, Diana matches the pace of her strokes to his expressions.

Overwhelming need builds, and Steve knows he won’t last much longer like this. He wants her too much, has from the moment she smiled down on him. Ego almost panicked, he starts, “Diana, I — ” He doesn’t tell her to stop. Even through the fog of embarrassment and pleasure, his strategist's mind recognizes that he is better off playing the long game. Swallowing his pride, he grits out, “Diana, I have to come. I have to.” His balls constrict.

Diana releases him.

The choked, ragged noise that tears from his throat alarms Diana enough that she compels him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Steve?” Her hand is on his face, and her low voice is shot through with concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that would hurt you.”

“No, no.” Steve puffs out a breath, reaching up to grip her forearm. “’M fine. But why — ”

“Well…” If he weren’t aching, he’d be gratified to see Diana abashed for once. “I didn’t think you wanted so soon to sleep.”

“What?”

Diana gains dignity as she straightens. The undersides of her breasts are at eye level. As much as Steve would like answers, he can’t resist thumbing the curve. “According to Clio,” Diana begins, and he leans forward to mouth the pale flesh there, to let her know exactly what he thinks of Clio. As he sucks, he rolls the nipple of the opposite breast. “Oh.”

The extra blood rushing to his cock is not helping. Still, Steve has the wherewithal to prompt, “According to Clio?”

“Ah, Clio — ” Diana leans forward to grant him better access. “Clio wrote that a man can only reach completion once during intercourse, and, after orgasm, he will instantly fall into a deep sleep.” Her heavy sigh ruffles his hair. “It is a biological imperative for your sex.”

Steve laughs, though in his mind he is cursing the men who drove Clio to take such a revenge. He tilts his face toward Diana. “It isn’t. It isn’t, Diana, I promise you.” She looks down on him, carding a cautious hand through his hair. “Where’s your lasso?” he demands, only half-joking. “Clio has it all wrong, I promise you. I just need — ” His pride draws the line at begging.

Radiating benevolence, Diana pronounces, “I believe you, Steve Trevor.” With pressure on the roots of his hair, she tips him onto the bed.

[eztria]

tagged by @llttledipper, aaahh thank you! ;0;

okay it’s kinda long, so i’m putting it under read more

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people

1. drink: soda 2. phone call: pls no 3. text message: yes, unless i’m feeling too bad 4. song you listen to: raleigh ritchie - the last romance 5. time you cried: yesterday

HAVE YOU: 6. dated someone twice: no, can’t see that happening to me 7. kissed someone and regretted it: no 8. been cheated on: yeah 9. lost someone special: kinda 10. been depressed: still am 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: nope, and i don’t plan to

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12-14: violet, red, turquoise

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. made new friends: yeah, not close ones, but still 16. fallen out of love: i guess you could call it like that 17. laughed until you cried: yeah 18. found out someone was talking about you: yeah, but i deserved it, i guess 19. met someone who changed you: not yet 20. found out who your friends are: i mean, i know who the close ones are 21. kissed someone on your Facebook list: facebook list??

GENERAL: 22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: pretty much everyone 23. do you have any pets: i have a dog 24. do you want to change your name: i’d like to one day 25. what did you do for your last birthday: worked on the project for my art classes, stressed over what my family wants to do. sighs. 26. what time do you wake up: around 10 am 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: reading fanfiction 28. name something you can’t wait for: getting out of here 29. when was the last time you saw your mom: last saturday 30. what is one thing you wish you could change in your life: ahh there are too many things i’d like to change... but i guess, i’d get rid of my social anxiety, or at least i’d want to get braver 31. what are you listening to right now: the song i wrote about, cars outside 32. have you ever talked to a person named Tom: polish equivalent would be ‘Tomek’ so yeah, i talked to some Tomeks 33. something that is getting on your nerves: my younger sister and not closing the door behind yourself 34. most visited website: tumblr dot com

LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME 35. mole/s: i have a few on my back 36. mark/s: i have a brithmark near my armpit 37. childhood dream: i was that one kid who would never really decide what i want to do and constantly change my dream job, but i guess, the one i was holding onto the longest was being an archaeologist 38. hair color: light brown 39. long or short hair: short 40. do you have a crush on someone: no, thank god 41. what do you like about yourself: i like to think of myself as loyal and the fact that whenever i make a promise i’ll try to do everything to fulfill it 42. piercings: only one hole per ear, bc my family would freak out if i had more 43. blood type: i don’t know, kinda wanna take a test for that 44. nickname: (ad) astra, ez, although irl ppl call me different variations of my name and i’m kinda glad for that 45. relationship status: single 46. zodiac: gemini 47. pronouns: they/them, but ppl call me she/her and i guess i don’t mind 48. favorite tv show: atm it’s steven universe, adventure time and rick & morty 49. tattoos: i want some when i’ll be old enough to get them, but i know i won’t be able to just go and get them alone 50. right or left hand: right 51. surgery: nope, or at least not that i remember 52. hair dyed in different color: nope, but i wanna dye my hair violet 53. sport: i used to play table tennis and swim a lot, but  i don’t do it anymore 55. vacation: i don’t have any plans, but my dream vacation would be just simply visiting my friends overseas or just kinda exploring nature 56. pair of trainers: i dunno, as long as it’s comfortable i’ll wear it

MORE GENERAL: 57. eating: tortillas 58. drinking: water atm 59. i’m about to: contibute to my discord server and draw Zenyatta with hair 61. waiting for: my older sister 62. want: to draw more and get used to digital 63. get married: probably not, since i’m not able to form such a strong connection to anyone 64. career: i still don’t know

WHICH IS BETTER 65. hugs or kisses: hugs 66. lips or eyes: eyes 67. shorter or taller: shorter 68. older or younger: does it matter? 70. nice arms or nice stomach: idk, if i had to choose maybe arms?? 71. sensitive or loud: sensitive 72. hook up or relationship: relationship, i guess 73. troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. kissed a stranger: no, why would i 75. drank hard liquor: no and i don’t plan to 76. lost glasses/contact lenses: when i was younger i had to wear glasses and i’d lose them basically every day 77. turned someone down: not intentionally 78. sex on the first date: N O 79. broken someone’s heart: i gues... 80. had your heart broken: by ppl who were supposed to be my friends 81. been arrested: not yet 82. cried when someone died: yeah 83. fallen for a friend: unfortunately.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. yourself: haha, no 85. miracles: not anymore 86. love at first sight: only the platonic kind 87. santa claus: not anymore 88. kiss on the first date: idk, i’ve never kissed anyone

OTHER: 90. current best friend(s’) name(s): Alice and Ellie 91. eye color: dark brown 92. favorite movie: ughhh i don’t know

NOW, TAG 20 PEOPLE: oh boy, okay @megasillyellie, @leo-otakuna, @a-merryday, @robot-naps, @theory-box, @zombiichris

[crotchexplorer666]

ALL

Ri beat yew to it, Gnart. x’”D

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?My brother. He messed something up on one of my game accounts and kept crying even though I kept telling him I wasn’t angry.

2. Are you outgoing or shy?Both? This is a hard question..

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?Uh, all of my friends?? No matter how long it takes...

4. Are you easy to get along with?If I like you. I’m really good at avoiding people.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?Probably. They better tell me that I did some wacky things while I was drunk, or I will be very ashamed of myself.

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?No single personality type. People who don’t think they’re smarter than me are nice. ;D

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?No.

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?Chuck Norris. When there’s a meteor shower, Chuck Norris grabs a bar of soap.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?A little, but it depends on who’s bringing up the conversation. 

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?Does insulting myself with deep remarks count..? Otherwise, @rubbishbin--trash. c”x

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?“My Gatorade bottle is empty... RIP x666”@the-devils-assisstant

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?- “Take Me Home Tonight” by Eddie Money- “Magic Man” by Heart- “Hells Bells” by AC/DC- “Renegade” by Styx- “Come on Eileen” by (I think) Dexy’s Midnight Runners- +1000 more13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?No, but people really like to??

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?Oh, yes. What else would I do?

15. What good thing happened this summer?Summer camp, and I drew a little-

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?My dad? I don’t care..?

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?Eh, I don’t mind hearing other people’s opinions.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?Carlos? Nah.

19. Do you like bubble baths?I’ve only had one bubble bath in my life. With Claire. x”D 

20. Do you like your neighbors?They are so nice, and then I feel bad for not visiting them more often. One time, I had to borrow someone’s phone, so I went over to Anne’s house (she’s probably in her 40s because the neighbors around here aren’t usually young). Before she let me borrow her phone, she let me inside to eat cookies with her and started asking how I was doing and being so nice.

21. What are your bad habits?Biting my lip, hating on myself whenever no one else is around to distract me, forgetting to eat..? x”D

22. Where would you like to travel?To any of my internet friends. .v.

23. Do you have trust issues?No, but that isn’t all that great.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?There is no “daily” routine ^^’, but I like going to jazz band practice on Wednesday nights.

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? M y n o s e.

26. What do you do when you wake up?Check my phone-

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?Lighter. I was always jealous of people with very pale skin because then their hair could be dyed any color without having to worry about it clashing with their skin color. ;o; 

28. Who are you most comfortable around?Myself.

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?I have no ex’s-

30. Do you ever want to get married?Yes. ;v;

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail?Yeah. xx I’m too wimpy to cut it short.

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?No, thanks-

33. Spell your name with your chin.jdennkcvdfdOMG THAT ALMOST WORKED

34. Do you play sports? What sports?Cross country in ze fall, softball, and I wanted to do track but softball was in the same season. xx

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?No TV, pls. I’ll make my own cartoons if I have to..

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?Duh.

37. What do you say during awkward silences?Do you like cats?

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?Uh-- I’m very flexible-- Though I would love it if someone (even just a friend) wrote me a poem. ;w; I write poems for my teachers and friends.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?I go all around the place??

40. What do you want to do after high school?yo mama Go to UCLA

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?Mhmm, even murderers. (A reasonable second chance with the adequate amount of security cameras making sure they don’t repeat their wrongdoings.)

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?There’s chaos inside my mind.

43. Do you smile at strangers?Yeah, doesn’t everyone?? .o. Just me?? Okay..

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?Neither.. c”x I like staying on dry land..

45. What makes is the reason you get out of bed in the morning?@natisuttertrash

46. What are you paranoid about?Everything-

47. Have you ever been high?Nah.

48. Have you ever been drunk?Nuh-uh, but I intend to one day. (weird goals)

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?I don’t think so.

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?Gray. (PE clothes..)

51. Ever wished you were someone else?Hell, yes. 

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?M y n o s e

53. Favourite makeup brand?None?

54. Favourite store?Nope..

55. Favourite blog?I can’t choose a favorite, guys. ;o;

56. Favourite colour?Red. Any variation of red. Pink, maroon, etc. Black and white look great with red, too. ;v; Red, black, and white. y e s

57. Favourite food?All things with rice.

58. Last thing you ate?Pretzels..

59. First thing you ate this morning?P-pretzels..

60. Ever won a competition? For what?A chugging competition with soda. x”D

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?Noooooo

62. Been arrested? For what?Nooooooooooooooooo

63. Ever been in love?...Yes

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?Uh, I doubt kissing someone on the cheek in a game of “family” when I was 7 counts.

65. Are you hungry right now?Nah, I had an ass-load of pretzels. Many donkey bags full. 

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?They are all equal. ^^

67. Facebook or Twitter?I don’t use either. xx (I have accounts, I just don’t use ‘em.)

68. Twitter or Tumblr?Tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now?Nah.

70. Names of your best friends?Is it bad that I have ten-- I do have to admit, I have my favorites. (But I won’t say..)

71. Craving something? What?Pretzels.

72. What colour are your towels?All the colors. Literally. There’s even burgundy, mint, etc. in the mix. It’s kinda ugly.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?Sometimes one, sometimes six.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?I sleep with my kitty. ;v;

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?More stuffed animals than pretzels.

75. Favourite animal?Cats--

76. What colour is your underwear?Of course I just happened to be wearing my ONLY pair of hot pink panties right now.

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?Vanilla.

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?Mint chip, FTW.

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?What if I’m not wearing a shirt..? (It’s blue)

80. What colour pants?Black with ninja turtles.

81. Favourite tv show?S p o n g e b o b will always be my #1.

82. Favourite movie?Either Blended, Mean Girls, or this other one I can’t remember atm.

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?The original is always boss. Both slay me, tho.

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?Mean Girls

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?KAREN SMITH ;O;

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?Nemo’s mom.

87. First person you talked to today?My dad.

88. Last person you talked to today?@the-devils-assisstant

89. Name a person you hate?I’d rather not say. c”x

90. Name a person you love?@natisuttertrash

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?Me.

92. In a fight with someone?No? I don’t think so?

93. How many sweatpants do you have?I don’t know. x”D

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?At least four.

95. Last movie you watched?The Cobbler.

96. Favourite actress?Marilyn Monroe.

97. Favourite actor?ADAM SANDLER-- YOU DONT NEED TO ASK ME TWICE

98. Do you tan a lot?Not intentionally ;^;

99. Have any pets?My precious kitty, Benjamin. .D.

100. How are you feeling?Do I have to answer every question on this??

101. Do you type fast?If you asked one of my friends, they’d say something along the lines of: “Hell, yes.”

102. Do you regret anything from your past?Ye; I lie about that a lot, though.

103. Can you spell well?Y E S

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?Oh, yeah. Sydney was the best. ;n;

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?Yes, actually. 

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?Probably. xx

107. Have you ever been on a horse?Oh, yeah. My first time on a horse was TACKLESS on an ARABIAN on a RAINY DAY. (Luckily Liesie’s the horse wrangler.)

108. What should you be doing?I don’t know.

109. Is something irritating you right now?Yes. You never asked what.

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?Yeah. >~

111. Do you have trust issues?Refer to #23, I think.

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?I don’t remember.

113. What was your childhood nickname?J-J

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?Well, I was born in Tokyo, moved to the US, and moved three times within the state while visiting my grandparents in China every summer (until they passed away).

115. Do you play the Wii?I don’t have one of those thingies. x”D

116. Are you listening to music right now?Yes... PSYCHIC, I TELL YOU.

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?Yes but I ran out of it ;o;

118. Do you like Chinese food?I am Chinese.

119. Favourite book?Any Percy Jackson book. ;D Is it bad that I still ship Reyco after Riordan crushed some of our hearts in a subtle way by having Reyna brother-zone Nico and then having Nico and Will get together?? 

120. Are you afraid of the dark?Not when I’m with someone else.

121. Are you mean?I don’t know. Am I?

122. Is cheating ever okay?Depends.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?Nah. x”D

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?Y e s

125. Do you believe in true love?What’s your definition of true love?

126. Are you currently bored?No, because I have this 150-question thingy to take care of--

127. What makes you happy?Music.

128. Would you change your name?YES. I would literally change my name from Jenn to June. 

129. What your zodiac sign?Gemini.

130. Do you like subway?Subway or subways? Subway is okay. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a subway.

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?Lock myself in a room and think everything through.

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?Wasn’t this already asked??

133. Favourite lyrics right now?The lyrics of “Come Together” by Beatles. (I prefer the Aerosmith cover, tho)

134. Can you count to one million?Nope.

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?I tell a lot of dumb lies to make it obvious that I’m lying. That’s just how I fail at being funny. ;w;

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?Closed.

137. How tall are you?5′3

138. Curly or Straight hair?My hair never decides. Everytime I take a shower I never know if it will drive straight, wavy, or curly. xx Plus it’s hard to brush.

139. Brunette or Blonde?Brunette. MY HAIR IS DARK BROWN; N O T B L A C K.

140. Summer or Winter?Winter days, Summer nights (I prefer Summer nights).

141. Night or Day?Night. ;u;

142. Favourite month?December. 

143. Are you a vegetarian?No, but sometimes it seems like it. x”D

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?A l l o f t h e m.

145. Tea or Coffee?

146. Was today a good day?Meh.

147. Mars or Snickers?Snickers.

148. What’s your favourite quote?Ahhh, too little time left over to decide.

149. Do you believe in ghosts?This question is too hard. c”x

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?“The children’s pants had large wooden boxes in them.”

[tasnimkwritersdiary]

GENRE FICTION COMMENTARY

"A short story is a different thing altogether – a short story is like a quick kiss in the dark from a stranger." (King 1985)

In class, we learned that short stories don't need to be super dramatic. They can be about something slight, and that revelation somehow changes things. You can describe it as seeing a story from the corner of your eye, rather than a full picture. 

The four genres we are currently studying within this module are Crime, Horror, Fantasy, Science Fiction, and some sub-genres that fall in between.  

Fantasy is a part of speculative fiction, and elements of fantasy can even be found in early texts such as The Epics of Gilgamesh (Gilgamesh 2100 BC). Common conventions of the fantasy genre include the use of magic and supernaturalism. Fantasy often relies on the reader to suspend their disbelief, and put aside what they know to be ‘real' in order to fully submit to the world of the story.  

Favourites such as Lord of the Rings (Tolkien 1954) are often associated with fantasy, however, contemporary fantasy also includes dystopian literature, which is hugely popular right now. For example, The Hunger Games (Collins 2012) and The Maze Runner series (Dashner 2013) are popular YA fantasy which have achieved commercial success.

There are also many sub-genres of science fiction, such as punk (steampunk, cyberpunk etc.), Hard vs. soft sci-fi, post-apocalyptic fiction, which were outlined in Jim Clark's lecture. Whilst world building can be very technical within this genre, it is important not to use too much jargon or unnecessary information about your world, as it can take away from the readers belief (Novum), e.g. time travel.

Isaac Asimov, the writer of I, Robot, believes that ‘Science fiction can be defined as that branch of literature which deals with the reaction of human beings to changes in science and technology.' (Asimov 1981).

We are learning about horror right now, however, I have written horror before. Some elements of horror stories are a dark mood and atmosphere, exploring the darker side of humanity, unexpected incidents, violence and gore, etc. In addition to this, Gothic horror is often very sensual.

It is important to consider that genres are constantly evolving, and elements of the genres mentioned are constantly in flux. What is popular right now may not be popular in a few years, or on the hand, it could have a cult status like Dracula (Stoker 1897).

The trouble with genre is that it can be restrictive or formulaic for writers whose ideas may not fit neatly within the confines of a certain genre, in which case writers can consider their work as literary fiction. When showing our writing to publishers, it may be off-putting for them if our work isn't easily marketable. 

On the other hand, fitting within a genre can also be useful when categorising a book in a bookshop or online. It is easier for target audiences to find our books if they fit into a genre, but they can equally get lost amongst of other books within that genre.

In her book ‘Writing short stories', Ailsa Cox writes that ‘The short story is a protean form, encompassing infinite variations, and just like the novel, shading into other genres' (Cox 2016).

My short story is about a twenty-five year old man named Saeed, who is being held captive in a small, bare house in an unidentified location. This first-person narrative voice follows the reader through his daily routine of eating, sleeping, writing etc. His compulsive habits frame him as a strange character, but I want the reader to feel sympathetic of him. He describes his parents as mute but menacing, claiming that he would be instantly killed if he ever tried to escape.

My story falls within the crime genre and is a psychological thriller. Writer David Lyons, who recently held a workshop with us regarding psychological thrillers and their current popularity, gave us an insight into some common features of this particular sub-genre. Crime fiction often deals with mystery, suspense, tension etc. Psychological thrillers deal with all of these things too, however, they often focus on the mental state/mind frame of the narrator more so.

I am currently writing the second draft of my short story. Taking into consideration the elements of a short story, I am now working on further developing my characters, theme, setting, conflict, plot, and P.O.V. All of these elements are important in my eyes, but because I'm using an unreliable narrator as the protagonist of my short story, P.O.V. is the most challenging element. I am trying to keep my character believable and relatable, without making him predictable or dull. His strangeness is what causes intrigue, and will hopefully keep the reader wanting to know more about him and his situation.

The conflict begins as an external one, with man vs. man (his parents who he believes are holding him captive), but ends up being an internal conflict all along (man vs. self).

The unreliable female narrator is massively popular right now, with novels such as Gone Girl (Flynn 2013) and Girl on the Train (Hawkins 2015) having major success and even becoming award-winning films. However, Stephen King is arguably the king of psychological thrillers when it comes to literature.

In light of the times up movement, author Stephanie Merritt wrote an article on how the ‘cult' of the unreliable narrator must be stopped. She writes that ‘writing a woman who is off-kilter… might inadvertently reinforce a stereotype of neurotic women, slaves to their biology' (Merritt 2018). Whilst I don't believe that the problem is that severe, I do see a pattern in the unreliable female narrator, and understand how it can feed into the stereotype of the crazy, untrustworthy woman.

With women's experiences with sexual predators being in the limelight right now, is it clever to portray women and their testimonies as untrustworthy? I believe in considering real-life situations in my writing, which is why I decided to use a male unreliable narrator. Rather than having ‘Girl in captive' which sounds more like the titles that are already on the market, I am naming my short story ‘Man in Captive'. 

This was more common in the 90's/00's with books/films such as Fight Club (Palahniuk 1997), and The Talented Mr Ripley (Highsmith 1999), both of which were highly popular. The character of Tyler Durden in Fight Club has some similarities with my character, in the sense that they can both be seen as cynical characters facing the unfamiliar, and the fact that they are both unreliable but this isn't revealed until the end.

The relevance of my short story within this current political and social climate is that it does not add to the masses of books written from an unreliable woman's point of view. In addition to this, it also normalises the idea that men also suffer from mental health problems, and that not all of these illnesses manifest in the same way.

When comparing the novels mentioned about with my short story, they have some similarities. For example, this quote from Fight Club, "Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head." (Palahniuk 1997) carries the same sentiment as one of my narrator's lines ‘We're all one bad day away from driving off a cliff'. Pessimistic narrative voices are also common in many psychological thrillers, but not all.

I've also taken the idea of captivity, where in many films and books, girls and women are held captive rather than men. The idea that it is an adult man rather than a child, is again, uncommon. 

In regards to structure and plot, I did a lot of reading and research around short stories and how they differ to structuring or plotting a novel, but this quote by author Isobelle Carmody sums up what most texts explained. 

‘Short stories do not say this happened and this happened and this happened. They are a microcosm and a magnification rather than a linear progression’ (Carmody and McNab 2013).

As evident earlier on in my writer's diary, my initial ideas were too complicated. They had too many characters and too much action. The subtlety and unique nuances that make a short story a genre in its own right, rather than a condensed novel, were being lost beneath huge plot lines and complicated structures.

In order to capture a moment in time, I start my story eight months into the captivity of Saeed. I have two current versions of my story, one written as a diary. I'm not sure which one I will submit yet. 

I also have currently written two endings to my story. In the first ending, there's a frantic knock on the door, and behind the door are his parents, who embrace him. Behind them are the police. He's been missing for eight months and his parents tracked him down through his Amazon account deliveries, where he ordered food and other necessities in bulk before his captivity. It turns out that he had been holding himself captive. He says he doesn't recognise these people posing as his parents, but they show him pictures. He doesn't trust them and lashes out. The short story ends with him in a psychiatric ward. He doesn't understand why this woman who calls herself his mother is crying.

The second ending is more subtle, where he hears a cat meowing outside of his front door. Knowing that his parents would be angry if he touches the door handle, he hesitates. But then he remembers back to his childhood when he used to have a black cat, so he opens the door and steps out. The cat is in the front driveway. He takes his first step out of the house, picks up the cat, and goes back inside. He opens the curtains, opens all of the doors, and it is revealed that there are no parents holding him captive. The story ends there.

I favour the second ending more, however, I am still receiving feedback from my tutors and my writing group.  I agree that ‘A short story must have a single mood and every sentence must build towards it' (Poe 1846), and the second ending aligns with the strange mood of my short story more, rather than the first ones dramatic ending.

I also considered Freytag's pyramid (Freytag 2004). For example, in the second ending, the exposition is setting the scene of a day in the life in captivity for Saeed. The inciting incident and rising action are very subtle, along with the climax, where he hears the cat and opens the door. The falling action is the internal battle between whether he should leave or not. The resolution is open-ended, as we don't know what happens after he opens the door. In a way, the resolution is his decision to open the door.

Looking back, I probably should have decided on whether to write diary extracts or not or which ending to go with, before writing them both. However, writing two versions of my short story, as well as alternative endings has allowed me to experiment more with short story writing, and gain a better appreciation to find just the right balance of everything when writing a short story.

In the current world where twitter fiction, fifty-word stories, even six-word stories are popular, I believe that it is a great time to write a short story. It is something that people can read in a few hours on their day off, or on a very long lunch break. 

I could self-publish my short story on Amazon, or use my social media accounts to share my story with people who are already familiar with my writing. There are publications such as Ambit Magazine and Dark Lane which I could submit my work to, however, many places that take submissions often ask for specific genres or word counts, so I will have to make sure that I fit the criteria. For example, Dark Lane specifies well-written, literary ‘weird' tales, and they dislike blood and gore (Dark Lane 2018).

I will consult with my writer's group and lecturers to figure out which would be the best route for me, however, I am still looking into magazines that take short story submissions. I could even ask to publish the opening of my story in the CovWords magazine, and then post the rest on my blog so people can read it for free. As a novice writer, this may be a good way to receive feedback on my writing from readers before submitting to publications.

REFERENCES

Anthology Submissions (2018) available from <http://darklane.webs.com/anthologysubmissions.htm> [2 March 2018]

Asimov, I. and Zimmerman, R. (1981) Asimov On Science Fiction. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday

Carmody, I. and McNab, N. (2013) The Wilful Eye. Crows Nest: Allen & Unwin Children’s

Collins, S. (2012) The Hunger Games. New York: Large Print Press

Cox, A. (2016) Writing Short Stories. 2nd edn. Abingdon: Routledge

Dashner, J. (2013) The Maze Runner Files. London: Random House Children’s Books

Freytag, G. (2004) Technique Of The Drama: An Exposition Of Dramatic Composition And Art. 2nd edn. Sacramento: University Press of the Pacific

Flynn, G. (2013) Gone Girl. London: Phoenix

Hawkins, P. (2015) The Girl On The Train. London: Doubleday

Highsmith, P. (1999) The Talented Mr. Ripley. London: Hutchinson

King, S. (1985) Skeleton Crew ; Different Seasons. London: Little, Brown

Merritt, S. (2018) The Cult Of The Unreliable Female Narrator Must Be Stopped | Stephanie Merritt [online] available from <https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2018/feb/19/cult-women-unreliable-narrators-literature-film-feminism> [2 March 2018]

Palahniuk, C. (1997) Fight Club. London: Vintage Books

Poe, E. (1846) The Philosophy Of Composition [online] available from <https://www.eapoe.org/works/essays/philcomp.htm> [2 March 2018]

Sandars, N. (2000) The Epic Of Gilgamesh. London: Penguin Books

Stoker, B. (2014) Dracula. New York: Penguin Books

Tolkien, J. R. R. (1954) The Lord Of The Rings. London: HarperCollins

[donnygroves30-blog]

Why Are Dead Leaves behind Important?

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[cruzrogue]

Looking Back

cruzrogue

Summary:

Oliver recalls the past of how he lost his mom while reading his journal. He misses his mom but he finds himself content at where he is in his life.

Notes:

I just wanted to write a small reflection of things past. I've been thinking of how Moira Queen would be so proud of her baby boy. She died so early in the series, so many good people have been taken from Oliver, anyways this is just me thinking of his mom.

Hope

‘He’s crying even when there are no tears left to give. Somewhere he got so numb yet that the pain still resonates but his heart is beyond broken. He would love to disappear and leave the agony behind but unfortunately, he knows this grief will follow him to any corner of the world. This is not the first time he has seen someone he loves die before his very own eyes and as he tries as hard as he might not to shut them, he blinks and relives his mother’s sacrifice. His mother is dead.’

Looking at the passage Oliver takes a deep breath. He wrote this as a form of therapy after everything he has been through putting down in words the pain it carries an infinity to the ordeal. Those moments of feeling helpless and the anger of letting it happen he misses his mom so very much. The first woman that made him feel safe and loved gone and he can’t tell her things he never got to say.

No matter what anyone thought of Moira Queen she was an astonishing woman. She carried sins on her shoulders and made dreadful choices but she didn’t have someone like his wife to help steer from such blunders as his own father dumped a cross that held his mother to sorrowfully sink down an abyss. If his mother wasn’t so strong after her time in prison, she would have just retreated into the manor walls and never be persuaded into civil service. He is his mother’s son for he too wanted to be more for the citizens of a city he came home to somehow serve.

He comes from two people who have done so many wrongs and as merely feasible as many tendencies to do what is right. His lineage is lined with such characters, people with that kind of wealth don’t gain power and affluence without some array of turning the other cheek.

His musings coming to an end as he hears footsteps leading to where he is. Turning to look at the woman who is as much the pillar of the community as he is. With her gusto she leads the way to bring businesses back to Star City.

After coming clean and having nothing to hide his speeches come across as assurances. People have really been rallying and showing a confidence in him that he only ever felt with Felicity. His words of leadership and her ability to show a knack of ingenuity they’re regarded to be the ‘it’ couple. So different from how people saw them years ago when he was acting like a spoiled boy trying to run a company that he eventually lost with the secretary on his arm even when they told countless people about their friendship.

Now here she is with her own designs and a happy ground breaking in just few days’ time at a new site where another building will stand to commemorate a successful product launch. He really did marry a genius but more importantly he married a woman that has a glorious heart for her spirit has always given him courage and together their bravery is what has brought them this far.

“Is everything okay? You seem miles away.”

He doesn’t get up from his spot but invites her into his space. His words not entirely sad but subdued, “I miss my mom.” His hand lands on hers as he always finds himself mindlessly rubbing his thumb against her wedding band. Contently just observing her husband as her hand is just over the small bump. “Talking about baby names just brought me into this room.” He nods towards the opened journal.

Felicity doesn’t say a word just brings her other hand to clasp over their hands.

Oliver continues, “I really do like Miah or any variation of that name.” now rubbing her side arm as she shifts on his lap with her head tilted to him. She said that name is a keeper with a small variety of spellings and he shrugged it off then but after coming into this room he finds that his wife might have found the one true fit.

“I may have not known your mom for very long.” She looks at the journal as she sighs, “All I know is she loved you and after losing those she loved I can see her strength from such an ordeal.”

“If she had a chance, she would have loved you.”

Felicity gets up slowly and walks to the opened journal and looks to her husband's written words. “I know. She would have made sure I was the one.”

“I believe my mom knew.” He is up and now standing behind her.

She says back teasing at how ridiculous they were. “I think everyone knew but us.”

“Maybe they all knew but, in those times, we were building a lasting bond. A friendship, partnership, and what we have today.”

She moves to face him and he’s looking down at her and she can see the love there. She has seen so many whirlwinds through his eyes but when his blue orbs are directed at her she knows he probably sees the same in her own. They’ve weathered many storms and will continue to weather many more. As long as they are together, they can endure such ills.

She gives him a smile remembering why she came here. “It’s time for bed.”

“Hmm, is it really?” he looks at her nod but he isn’t going to move until he at least has a kiss. He seems he can never get enough of such a contact. Now with a child on the way he feels more nostalgic of things past. He missed out with so many little things with William so he has been writing things from his childhood of what he remembers of good moments with his own parents that he would love to reenact that doesn’t get ‘I’m to old for that dad’ auto response.

“Yes, I have a hard time sleeping without my heater.” She says as her words take him back to her as his mind already has wondered off. He can freely do that and be vulnerable because with her he feels safe. “Not that is the only reason because well there are many good qualities about you. I can…”

“Felicity.”

She just looks at her husband and sees that she doesn’t need to explain. He knows and before she says another word, he twirls her around and clasps his fingers with her own and begins to lead them to their room. Just like her he has a hard time sleeping without her in his arms. Instead of late-night speeches he intends to show her how well they drift off to sleep within each other’s embrace.

[nbareadathon-blog]

1973 Winner: The Siege of Krishnapur

This was the second book in J.G. Farrell’s Empire Trilogy and this was also the book he won the Booker Prize for while he was alive. It is my favorite of the books I have read thus far. It tells the story of a Victorian outpost that gets besieged during the Sepoy Mutiny. Once more, it’s interesting reading books about a crumbling empire during this time in American history where I feel like all the ideals I grew up with are completely gone. Apparently right now Americans are the most pessimistic we have been in the modern era, and with good reason. All of the hubris of these characters in this book are like literal slaps across the face. “You think your culture is superior, we are going to literally watch you slowly perish.” The Sepoy Mutiny was caused when British people suggested using animal lard from both cows and pigs to grease their guns. This angered both the Muslim and Hindu population- this is what I have heard and I’m sure it’s much more complex and due to all kinds of the toxicity of colonialism. Farrell never really described what happened and like in Troubles-the arrogant English are completely taken aback. What makes the book even more interesting were the Victorian values which were horrific.

Sidebar-I am a white woman but I have known people of Indian descent since I was 5. My father’s best friend from grad school was from India and I spent time in my childhood between my childhood best friend and Ragu with Indian people. I grew up in a community with a large Indian population as well. Needless to say, I have been fascinated with Indian culture since I was little. I remember watching “The Jungle Book” and my Dad being like “that’s where Ragu is from.” I had so many questions. He told us about all the poisonous snakes in India and then in class we saw Rikki Tikki Tavi and it proved to me that snakes were evil #stillafraid. I wore bindis in middle school and I did own a sari that I wore to a family function with my best friend. In 2017, I am aware of how problematic Rudyard Kipling and the Secret Garden were. I’m trying to be aware of cultural appropriation. If you want your mind blown, watch The Story of India which is amazing. I learned about the amazing scientific discoveries and beautiful art that they never get credit for in Western society. I learned about how the Hindi language and English are from the same original language. As a Western woman who knew actual Indian people but only learned about them in school through Victorian English people, we learned so many things wrong. Also, after my father passed his friend Ragu wrote us the sweetest most thoughtful letter. I posted a picture of my son and Ragu said “100% again” which is something my Dad used to say when everyone was together. I am so lucky to know him.

Anyway, this book...it’s not a fun read although it has some really funny parts. The things that stuck out to me were hubris and callousness of the besieged, the insistence on possessions (in the beginnings of mass production), the treatment of women, and the issues of science. There is a character who is a fallen woman who wanted to kill herself after losing her “honor.” Apparently, she may have simply let a man kiss her. She was totally shunned by the other women and had to stay in her own space. Such was the idea of womanly “purity” back then. It was really gross and their meanness to her was a way that a lot of the women kept the rigid hierarchy going during the siege. But let’s get gory and talk science. I am absolutely fascinated by how science evolves and they talked about evolution. As someone who grew up with it, I didn’t understand how people could fight it so hard. Growing up in Southern Ohio, it was still controversial (sigh) but the Padre used the perfection of animals as proof of God. It also worked in justifying the hierarchy of things. I also loved how Fleury was a mopey poet and how that was going out of style. If you truly believed in a static world it would be so jarring to think of things evolving. It would put your whole worldview out of whack. The other absolutely fascinating (for me at least) was the fighting between the doctors McNab and Dunstaple. Basically Dunstable believed that cholera was spread through the air and not water. His examples were disproven evidence but he kept on shouting these old school ideas about cholera as evidence based. McNab was like “there are these things called germs and hygiene. People do not get sick because of a character flaw it’s because oftentimes poor people can’t afford better water.” People were totally confused and their huge fight-in which Dunstaple drinks “clear rice water” from a cholera patient to prove his point is absolutely fascinating. Basically, in medicine (and in other things) if there are variations in outcomes things can be changed for a better outcome. Is it difficult? Yes. Is it worth studying? Yes. I’m thinking specifically about CLABSI and how pediatrics changed the game in studying it.  I mean this is when people were discovering washing hands as preventative care. McNab makes his point using controls and variations and Dunstaple screams at him that he is liar and that he is morbid for writing down his observations and creating statistics. Once more, it was a huge cultural shift. Who do you trust and what is evidence? This logic applied to everything and you can see how it discredited colonialism. Because science involved accepting the reality anything could be possible and that the hierarchy of things was not set in stone.

I really enjoyed this book and it has stayed with me for a long time. I really suggest reading it because there are a million things to study about it. Excellent work by J.G. Farrell. He did all kinds of research on this including reading journals from people who were descendants of people who lived during the siege of Muttra. It was incredibly well researched and the setting was particularly vivid. The Collector was based on a real person who was based in Muttra. At the end of the book the Collector is asked about culture and he says something along the lines of “culture is a cosmetic for the rich.” Fascinating ideas that stick with your for a long time.

[shadowlineswriting]

Meyer

If you’ve never heard of Twilight, that may be a sign that you’re living under a rock. In case you haven’t, though, I will give you some very quick background:

Vampire literature actually hasn’t been around that long. It’s not one thousand years old, like some mythologies, and it’s not several thousand years old, like fairies. Though vampire stories have gone through their own variations, for the most part, they followed the same rules. They burn up in the sun. You can kill them by staking them through the heart with wood. You can ward them off with holy water and garlic. They drink human blood to survive. They’re dead, so they have no heartbeat and they’re hideous. Etc., etc. Since early vampire legends developed from porphyria (much the same way werewolf legends came from humans infected with rabies), it makes sense that vampires would have the classic symptoms of the disease, even in canon.

This is the pattern vampire literature followed for just over 250 years...until Stephenie Meyer wrote the Twilight quartet. They are: Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn, with a novella titled The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner going in between Eclipse and Breaking Dawn, and Midnight Sun being partially released a few years ago, which is Twilight as told from the perspective of another character. The books are immensely popular, as are the 5 Twilight movies made. In fact, Twilight will forever belong on the same list as Harry Potter and The Hunger Games. We’re living in the age of young adult fiction, y’all.

Anyway. The story tells of a human girl named Bella Swan who moves to Forks, Washington, to live with her dad. She’s resigned herself to a boring life--Forks has a population of less than 3500 people and her dad is kind of a workaholic. But when she starts school, she meets Edward Cullen, and then suddenly life isn’t boring at all.

Edward isn’t like the other boys. For one thing, he’s unearthly beautiful. His eyes are gold and his skin is white. Not white, like, Cacuasian--white white. He always smells good and he has perfect teeth and he gets 100% scores on every single thing he does. Every girl in the school’s had a crush on him at some point, but Edward is reclusive. He doesn’t make friends. He doesn’t partake in school activities or sports. He’s a vampire, of course.

What’s strange is that he falls for Bella, who learns more about Edward’s world and what it would mean to be a part of it. I don’t want to give anything away, but that’s the gist of the story.

I have copious things to say about this book series, so buckle up.

1. I’d just like to mention that I was one of the first people in the general public to read Twilight. I’m sure everyone claims that, but here’s how it happened for me. The year it came out, my sister Laura and I were doing a reading program at our library. There were different categories that we were supposed to fill with x number of books. I went to the librarian working in the teen section to ask for some help on paranormal romance (remember, that wasn’t a huge thing yet). She thought for a moment and then pulled Twilight out of a box under her desk. “Try this one,” she said. “We just got it in, and I haven’t even put it on the shelves yet.” I took it home and started reading it that night while I was babysitting my next-door neighbor’s daughter, Emily. Emily went to bed early (totally her choice) and Glen and Cindy weren’t due back for a while, so I settled in to read. I had it halfway done by the time they got home. Glen read the back and laughed. “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” he said, “but leave it to you to read it!”

2. I tell you this because it’s important to understand that when I first read Twilight, it was just a book. It wasn’t the mega-story it is now, where pretty much anyone from age 10-75 can tell you all about it. It was just a book written by a first-time author, and one of the reasons I loved it was because it was so unique--to me, it was special. For months afterward I tried to talk to people about it but no one had ever heard of it. So it was an incredible story that seemed almost secret, somehow, which just made it all the more delicious.

3. Here are some of the pros for Twilight. First of all, Stephenie Meyer is an incredible author. A lot of people claim she’s angsty, and I don’t disagree, but the thing is, at least she makes you feel. I’ve read the series probably a dozen times by now but I still find myself emotionally connecting to characters each time, even though I know what to expect before I so much as crack the cover. She sucks you in immediately and never lets you go even after you turn the final page. That’s quite a gift. There are a lot of good authors out there, but few that I would describe as naturals, or authors who could write to change the world. Meyer is certainly one of them. So I have to give her huge respect for that. Another thing I love about Twilight is that the book could have easily fallen into the same routine the rest of the world follows when it comes to relationships--you know, plenty of fish in the sea, casual sex is fine, healthy even, and you shouldn’t let someone else take care of you because that’s weak. Don’t let yourself get attached. All that garbage. Meyer does not cross lines with this series. Each of the dedicated relationships in this book series is monogamous, which is quite an impressive feat already. More than that, though, Edward and Bella share a few steamy kisses, but nothing more. Edward flat-out refuses to have sex with Bella until they are married. Now, I admit that the fourth book gets, um, adult. But they’re married by then. It’s very rare to see a popular story for teenagers that promotes abstinence and dedication, so Meyer deserves huge applause for pulling that off.

4. Here are a few cons. For one thing, Edward and Bella’s relationship is seriously messed up. In fact, when I was in grad school I wrote a paper proving that their relationship meets all 15 points set by the National Abuse Hotline to define an abusive relationship. And I still believe that it does. This is tempered by the fact that they truly do care for each other, which is great, but it’s taken to an unhealthy level. Another con is that the book is very dramatic, but that has a lot more to do with Meyer’s intended audience than the story itself, I think. Now that I’ve read them so many times, I freely admit that I speed read the angsty portions. After one or two paragraphs of “You are my whole world” “You are my whole world” “I can’t live without you” “I can’t live without you!” “I’ll love you for the rest of my existence” “I’ll love you for the rest of my existence!” that I really just get bored. Lots of love...moving on. There are a few minor points I struggle with as well, but I blame Meyer’s editor more for these. For example, they make a huge deal about how Bella is adult beyond her years because she has to take care of her parents and be the responsible one in the family, but then she skips meals frequently and when she does eat she eats like garbage. If she’s not responsible enough to take care of herself, then I find it hard to believe she could take care of her parents. They also make a big deal about how Charlie, her father, hates being called Charlie and she always calls him Dad. Well, it doesn’t take long before she slips back into calling him Charlie...yet Charlie never says one word about it. If it bothered him that much, wouldn’t he speak up?

Ultimately, I am keeping Twilight. They aren’t the kind of books I want to read often, but I always enjoy them when I read them, and as an author I enjoy studying the way Meyer conveys emotion and depth in relationships. It’s fascinating. I’m not sure you should let your kid read these...but if it comes down to this or one of the other 500 teenage paranormal romances out there, I sincerely believe this one is “safest.” They stay!

P.S. They did a great job with the movies, too. Many of the actors are not who I envisioned when reading the books, but all things considered, they kept to the books very well.