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iholli · 10 months

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I would absolutely love to hear about your faves 👀 Tell me everything you know 👀👀👀👀

AAAAAAVUYCDTIGCTUGCH YOU'RE A GEM THANK U FOR THIS 😭😭😭💚

this is super long bc I'm Completely Normal abt J'onn lmao whoops 😂

omfg where do I start. FIRST THINGS FIRST. HE. MY BELOVED. J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, my favorite favorite of all time. no really it's coming up on 8 years and I still love him sm 😭 my one braincell may wander off to new fixations but I always circle back around to him sooner or later.

I have like 4747058 images of him ofc but these are SO good bc they tell a lot about him ??? he's cute, he's silly, he's dramatic, he's sassy, he's the heart of the Justice League twenty times over despite DC refusing to give him any time to shine (I'm going to fight them with my bare hands for that).

I've never posted this but it's been in my drafts for ever so I'll throw it in here 😂 I have so many thoughts about him omg

ALSO I have a whole thing analyzing J'onn's moral compass & development through Justice League Animated, Unlimited, and some of the comics a while back so there's tHAT WHICH,,, was super good imo 👏

uuuuughghghghh I could talk about him forever 😭💚

When it comes to people Superman wouldn't want to fight, J'onn is top of that list, that's canon. He's OP as FUCK. He has most if not all Clark's powers, shapeshifting, intangibility, invisibility, phasing, telepathy, seriously his powers seem to never end ??? But he's terribly underutilized :") like I get it but come on DC,,,

J'onn is addicted to Oreos. no, really. in MM 98 issue 24 Blue Beetle and Booster Gold have this Super Funny Idea to hide all the Oreos from J'onn, and you gotta applaud the dedication to the prank bc they literally went out and bought ALL the Oreos from the ENTIRE vicinity of the JL Embassy building. J'onn proceeds to Hulk out and tear up half the city chasing them for it. It's revealed by Batman that Martians can get addicted to Oreos. At the end of the issue it turns out this is just a story J'onn is telling Diana but... he winks and asks if she's got any cookies, so it's up for debate if it's really just a story [I think there's some truth to it. bc it's very funny.]. And the Oreo thing comes up many times in many places including JLTAS 😂

He also likes sweet things in general !! he canonically drinks coffee with a TON of sugary shit to take off the bitter taste. I also made the hc that was the case for him just days before reading it in MM Identity and I'm very real for that 👏

J'onn is a cat person. One of his aliases is even an Italian street cat named Tommaso. And he has an orange cat named Double Stuff,,, of course 😂

however,,, he's totally a dragon nerd, he knows everything about dragons, he likes reptiles in general but dragons are his fav. He shapeshifts into draconic creatures all the time and he talks many times abt a specific species of moon nesting dragon called quonars. He also telepathically connected with an iguana once and it was a wholesome experience 🥺

J'onn lives in Colorado, in a suburb named Middleton, which is actually the name of a real ghost town! it's interesting that Denver is his preferred climate bc you can assume Mars was similar 👀

He is THE sass master. He goes toe to toe with Batman constantly. One of these days I'll just make a list of every sassy line he delivers in JLTAS but I think that would be a whole book by itself. There's a video of sassy moments from Batman: The Brave and the Bold that I watch 400 times a week. One of my favorite comic sass moments is when Batman expresses his annoyance at J'onn for leaving on the middle of an important meeting, which J'onn happily counters with a "you're so right, it would look bad on the League if someone just vanished at random all the time, huh Batman :)." he then also takes a crack at Bruce's lack of people skills. iconic.

He's also a silly little guy. The Batman 2007? J'onn OWNS the noir detective role, down to the cheesy old fashioned music. He also has like, a whole list of quotes he's just waiting to use when the time is right. He waited years to say "You're probably wondering why I've called you all here today." love him fr

J'onn is canonically kind of an adrenaline junkie. He loves driving, particularly an 87 Chevy Impala which he affectionately says "vibrates like a Chihuahua with a head cold." He once physically linked with an entire damaged spaceship to steer it out of danger and got carried away bc he was just having fun. He also said it was similar to the video games he plays with GL-- so he's canonically a gamer, too 😂👏

I 100% believe he's got anxiety or at LEAST separation anxiety [and that may be the case for the entire Martian race]. I already thought as much but then JLU issue 24 kinda confirmed it and it was devastating :") the League is taken over by Starro, J'onn is the only one who dodges the attack and he's left to fight his teammates which. is already awful for him. and it triggers flashbacks to a time on Mars when he was separated from his family in a nasty sandstorm. J'onn went pretty much feral with panic until he broke down and then forced himself to calm down enough to think of a plan. Meanwhile back with the League he's frantically trying not to panic again bc, while fire is a Martian's greatest weakness, "being alone is a Martian's greatest fear." I cried the whole time I read that issue and then I bought a copy LMAO. can DC stop putting him through the PTSD wringer for five seconds thanks

One short comic run J'onn spends the whole time being chased by the Martian god of fire, H'ronmeer, bc it turns out he was psychically keeping the souls of the entire Martian population tethered to the mortal realm. he's super powerful and HE'S GOING THROUGH IT. ALL THE TIME.

I don't have the context for either happenstance at this time, but J'onn has been both a Black and a White Lantern in comics. I have no idea what any of it means, either, I just know it's happened. I'll get there eventually. maybe. [I think he's dead for the Black Lantern thing so...probably...not...]

^^^ this is up there with the whole "J'onn was actually an advance agent for the invading Martian species but rather than let them use him as a weapon he essentially committed suicide after fighting the whole Justice League [beat them easily, it wasn't even a competition] and somehow this split his consciousness into like 4 different people" of comic runs that I really don't want to read [even though I own this one] :") help

I don't know what it is about forcefields but his brain just shuts off when he gets near one fr. Multiple times when there's a forcefield, EVEN IF HE KNOWS IT'S THERE, J'onn just yeets headfirst into it. He's just generally super impulsive tho ??? This guy is constantly jumping into action without a moment's thought. pls stop handing off the braincell to absolutely no one when there's danger, J'onn [he does not actually have the braincell at any given time. only Bruce has it. occasionally].

He totally enjoys starting shit. J'onn is Here for teammate drama. He once gave Batman absolutely what for and called him immature just bc J'onn was annoyed with his attitude. He sends people on League missions that will either bring out complete drama or make them find common ground. Though he says the contrary, J'onn is absolutely in the background of every team squabble with popcorn like Thor watching Tony and Cap argue. "You're all so petty. And tiny."

J'onn's name means "light to the light" and it's so poetic 😭😭 of COURSE he's the heart of the League. akdjfndckdnxkd

I'm going to stop there bc I could go on forever but I've held this ask hostage in my drafts long enough 😂😂 ENJOY THE RAMBLING THANK U FOR SENDING THIS ASK AAAA 💙

#possum screms at this #sorry it takes me 5-10 business days to answer asks i get too excited #enrinchment but i am a dog with an egg. bark and bounce around it with delight instead of interacting Normally #ratkingresponds #j'onn my beloved #here tumblr have a bunch of infodumping abt my beloved #martian manhunter #j'onn j'onzz #dc #long post #i know ive dropped a lot of this info on tumblr before but now its all in One Condensed Post #I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT HIM. brainrot real #some other favs include loki death the kid shadow the hedgehog donnie rottmnt luigi bowser & king boo #but J'onn is like. my Main Guy yk 😭😭#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK I CANNOT SAY IT ENOUGH 😭😭#nothing brings me seratonin like talking about he fr fr

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officialheroesofolympus · 2 years

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To those that followed me for fics (especially drukkari…. Like it’s been a year and I haven’t updated SESD’s last chapter) I am so so sorry for my zero updates💀💀 once the school year ends I’ll be finishing up and posting (hopefully) most fics that’ve been sitting in my drafts for years which primarily include:

Starry Eyes, Stardusted Smiles — MCU’s Drukkari: Chapter 6 (final chapter)

MCU’s Drukkari: The promised fluff piece of them just waking up in the morning together and Makkari showering a slightly insecure Druig in affection

MCU’s Drukkari: Fic addressing the years after Tenochtitlan, Makkari visiting Druig in the Amazon and their evolution from friends to something more

Top Gun Maverick’s Hangster: Getting locked in the cockpit of a faulty plane together

Top Gun Maverick’s Hangster: Exes!Hangster find out they still wear each other’s dog tags and reconcile

Hometown Cha Cha Cha’s Hye Jin/Du Sik: 5 times Hye Jin calls Du Sik by other names, 1 time she calls him by his name (Canon divergence because I started writing it before the show finished)

Kinnporsche’s Kinn/Porsche: 5 times Kinn goes absolutely nuts over Porsche’s outfits but can’t express it openly, 1 time he finally tells Porsche (Canon divergence, also because I started it before the show ended)

Outer Banks’ JJ/Kiara: 5 times JJ confessed to Kiara, 1 time she finally believed him (wrote this for a friend after s1 but haven’t watched s2 so…)

Tenet’s Neil/Protagonist: Coffeeshop owner!Neil and his encounters with his regular customer who seems to be brimming with secrets (literally only wrote 2 paras for this but it IS a fic idea I had mapped out an entire plot for)

After School Lessons for Unripe Apples’ Mi Ae/Cheol: Saw the artist’s drawings of Mi Ae in high school with long hair and wanted to write a fic of Cheol basically going to the countryside for a holiday after middle school ends, them keeping in touch via letters, him refusing to admit that he misses her before deciding to return to the city to attend high school there and reuniting with Mi Ae, only to discover her new look (you can tell this is my fav webtoon at the moment lmao)

Enola Holmes’ Enola/Tewkesbury: Modern AU of part time florist!Tewkesbury who attempts to avoid inheriting his family’s corporation because all he wants to do is work with flowers, and either a barista or tattoo artist!Enola who teaches him to be unafraid to chase his dreams (It’s been sitting in my drafts since I finished enola 1 whoops)

MCU’s Spideychelle: Set after the events of Spider-Man NWH. How Peter falls in love with MJ all over again and how she relearns to love him again

Nevertheless’ Sol/Ji Wan: AU of them as strangers, where Ji Wan volunteers to model for an art class that Sol’s in and the latter kinda, maybe falls in love with the cute model who’s incessantly nice to everyone

Twenty Five Twenty One’s Hee Do/Yi Jin: Fix it fic of how they reunite in their 20s and relearn about this more matured, older version of one another, subsequently falling in love all over again

If anyone has any preferences for a specific fic they do want to be actually uploaded please feel free to drop a request in my asks!! Would be grateful for the help cos I’m kinda overwhelmed with the number of drafts I have and have no clue which one to start on first or prioritise lmao

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lovequinn · 1 year

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what are your favorite autographed things you own?

this ask has been half-answered in my drafts since like september when we were talking about signed taylor cds and why i still think getting things signed can be sentimental kfjdhgdkf my bad!! whoops

i probably have a few favorites bc like i mentioned, a lot of times signed stuff for me is a tangible memory of a cool moment when i crossed paths in this big world with someone whose work impacted me so like. a shortlist of those i guess?:

the little note brittany snow asked if she could write in the journal i picked up from her SL event which still makes me smile when i think about that whole thing

my copy of saint x that adc signed one of the days i was on set for the adaptation, which she was very excited to tell me was the first time she got to autograph something saint x related (and also that i was reading it before she was lol). she signed something else for me too that she lightly teased me about at one point but that will stay between she and i and god

not really a crossed-paths moment but right around when i finally legally changed my name, i preordered one last stop and chose the signed copy from my local bookstore bc it was the same price, mentioned offhand in the "put your name so we can make sure the author spells it right" section that this was the first thing i was getting signed in my new name, and when i received it in the mail a couple of months later casey mcquiston had written "to jaime—i LOVE your name" in the front cover and that meant a lot

i have a copy of the og carmilla novella signed by nat and elise and that one is special to me not so much because of the item itself, but because it's from that weird popup store ubykotex did in nyc back in 2016 (my senior year of high school). i skipped my lacrosse game and took a bus into the city with my best friend that morning and it was one of the first times i was at an event where i was quite literally surrounded by other queer people. it felt very very homey to me and it was actually where i met a friend of mine who is no longer with us. so that whole day is something i cherish and the signed book is a reminder of that!

#q gets an a

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stopcannibalizingourown · 2 years

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Hi! Just found your blog and I really like it. Idk if youve been asked this already but whats your opinion on using agab terms vs tme/tma terms? I personally like agab terms when discussing how people have been socialized but Ive heard some transfeminine people have valid problems with them being overused. Wanted to know your opinion on it. Thanks and have a nice day!

let’s just pretend I didn’t forget about this in my drafts for months, whoops

The short answer: I dislike both tme/tma and agab language.

I don’t really feel like getting into it at this time, so I’d like to direct you to @nothorses whose pinned post has a few takedowns of the terminology, as well as this post. Basically it’s a shitty dichotomy that was either coined or popularized for exclusionary purposes by a group of Lesbian Separatist Radical Transfeminists (and I don’t know if you know this, but I have immense disdain for separatist politics and for radical feminism, and slapping a “trans” onto it doesn’t make it any better lmao).

Now, as for agab language, it has specific contexts where it can be useful, such as medical contexts--though even then not everyone with the same assigned sex is going to have the same medical needs, even when it comes to reproductive organs, and that’s before you factor in hormonal transitioning and such. agab is not a surefire predictor for literally anything after the actual assignment itself, and it being used as such inevitably excludes people whose experiences don’t match up with the typical narrative.

And outside of those contexts? Yeah no it’s just not helpful. Like, to use socialization as an example, there’s no such thing as a coherent “afab socialization” or “amab socialization.”

To use my own life as an example, though I grew up in a patriarchal society like (to my knowledge) everyone from the US, my parents’ chosen family and thereby my extended family is closer to matriarchal than anything, which very much informed my understanding of gender growing up--a lot of traits that are associated with masculinity, such as directness or even abrasiveness, were exhibited primarily by the women I grew up around and looked up to, with the men being for the most part more mellow and nurturing by personality.

Or, as another example: as a kid, I was very much a wild child (outside the classroom where I was excessively obedient because I trusted authority figures), always energetic and outgoing--but also extremely cheerful, openly emotional, and friendly to basically everyone. At the age of eight, trauma Happened, and overnight I became introverted, depressed, emotionally repressed, bookish, and closed off. In either case, however, I was almost always read as a girl (until I hit puberty anyway) in spite of identifying as a boy because the way I acted conflicted with people’s understanding of what boys are.

And that’s the thing--what we’re socialized into is the entire system of binary gender, not just a single specific gender. Both what we understand the two binary genders to be as a result of our surroundings and how much we internalize the expectations for the gender we’re assumed to be are huge parts in how that socialization impacts our behavior. Not only that, but the behavior you learn in childhood does not necessarily determine your behavior as an adult.

It will absolutely almost always affect it in unavoidable ways (it’s very unlikely I will ever not be impacted by my trauma), but just as I am neither the cocky, outgoing, unstoppable assumed-tomboy I was as a young child, nor the broody, depressed kid with a chronic inability to assert myself and my nose always buried in a book that I was during my later formative years, no one else is inherently defined by who they were taught and who they learned to be growing up.

This mostly turned into a tangent about socialization rather than about agab language in general, but I know some of my mutuals have written excellent posts about agab language as a whole, so feel free to drop those here lmao.

also P.S. I didn’t even get into how neurodivergence affects things but like. My autism absolutely informed my grasp of gender growing up and that’s common with many neurodivergences.

Edit: The other issue is, admittedly, the difficulty with replacement language—in spite of my disdain for it you'll occasionally see me using agab language myself. Idk things are complicated.

#ask tag #anon #gender linguistics tag #socialization #this post is a mess organizationally but I don't have it in me to do a round of edits #if i try it'll be another however many months before i post this thing #so what you see is what you get lol

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elvish-sky · 3 years

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How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

A.N: OK GUYS- i literally tied my hand to my sister’s to figure out some of the logistics of movement for this. She thinks I’m crazy now. But I loved this request! I’m currently catching up on requests and also dealing with some personal issues, and I haven’t been happy with anything I’ve written in a really long time, but I’m really happy with this! It would mean so much to me if you guys liked it too, I put so much work into this and I’m so proud of it!

also- a thousand thank you’s to @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth for giving me an idea for this fic. i appreciate you letting me use it so so much. thank you.

Requested by @raineeace on Tumblr: Your recent request you wrote was beyond cute! You’re an amazing writer, so catch me reading the rest of your LOTR content !! I also wanted to request something as well! Can you do a Faramir x Fem!Reader and Gandalf and/or Pippin try to get them together? I loved the how you wrote Aragorn as cupid, and I wanted to ask if you could make these two matchmakers as well? Lots of fluff please and I can’t wait to see what you come up with! :)

Word Count: 2,334

Pairing: Faramir x Reader

Summary: You and Faramir have been mooning over each other for months, but nothing has come of Pippin’s efforts to get you together. What happens when Pippin enlists the help of a certain wizard?

Warnings: Fluff, Humor

****

How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

Pippin leaned over the banister, watching you and Faramir walk together below. You smiled at something the man said, then nodding your head goodbye and walking away. The hobbit watched as Faramir stood there, watching you go, looking oddly lonely.

Pippin had been watching/trying to get you and Faramir together for a while now. He had first noticed the chemistry and romantic tension between you when everyone was gathered waiting for Frodo to heal, and decided to do something about it. Now, months later, nothing had happened. Pippin thought that at this point neither of you was ever going to confess your very obvious feelings for the other.

At least, not without some extra help.

“Come on, Gandalf, please?”

The wizard shook his head, “I cannot believe you are still going on about this.”

“They need the help,” Pippin told him, “Plus, getting them to admit their feelings to each other would help them, and ease your exasperation with the two of them for walking in circles around each other!”

The wizard shook his head. “I’m not going to help you with this!”

“It’s for the greater good! Can you really stand to see the two of them mooning over each other all the time?”

“That’s true. It’s getting ridiculous,” Gandalf sighed, “Fine. I’ll help. Where do we start?”

Back in your room, you lifted your head from your desk as a loud, hobbitish whoop rand through the air. You chalked it up to Pippin hitting another elf, probably Legolas, with an apple, and returned to your work. You hoped that it wasn’t Legolas that Pippin had hit, because the last time that happened Legolas had promptly eaten the apple, and Pippin had bemoaned the loss of his snack for weeks.

That night, you left your room, closing the door behind you and setting off down the hallway. You’d barely made it fifteen feet when another door opened right in front of you and Faramir came rushing out, crashing into you.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there, I feel terrible!”

“It’s okay!”

You shuffled your feet, nervous to be so close to the person you’d been in love with for months.

It was also weird how close your rooms were- Aragorn had given everyone from the Fellowship and friends special quarters after his coronation. You could understand why the hobbits’ rooms were so close together, but wondered why Aragorn had placed you and Faramir almost directly across from each other. Probably because the two of you worked together the closest on negotiations with the other kingdoms.

Eventually, Faramir broke the silence with an awkward laugh.

“So, late to dinner?”

You smiled, glad he’d spoken first.

“Yeah. I got so focused on drafting that new trade agreement with the Iron Hills that I didn’t realize how low the sun was.”

He nodded. “I completely understand, I’ve done that far too many times, working on something like that or staying outside the city for far too long.”

Laughing, you looped your arm through his. “We should get to dinner before Aragorn yells at us.”

You entered the hall together, pushing open the doors to see your friends all seated around the high table. Dinners with the group had started when everyone was waiting for Frodo to heal and wake up and had just continued on, everyone reluctant to give up the time spent together.

Letting go of Faramir’s arm, you took your usual seat between him and his brother.

“What prompted you two to arrive together?” Boromir winked at you as he whispered.

“Huh? Oh, we just bumped into each other in the hall.”

“Sure, sure,” he smirked as he spoke.

“Pass the potatoes, please, Boromir.” You were determined to change the subject, and, happily, it seemed to have worked.

What you didn’t notice was Gandalf staring intently at you and Faramir, muttering something under his breath as Pippin watched gleefully.

You yawned, pushing your empty plate away with a groan.

“I’m stuffed. And tired. I think I’ll head to my rooms.”

Everyone said goodbye, and you pushed back your chair and went to stand.

But you couldn’t.

There were handcuffs on, one on your wrist, and the other on Faramir’s. And they hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Who handcuffed us?” You were bewildered.

“Gandalf…” Faramir glared at the wizard.

Gandalf glanced behind himself, and, seeing no one, turned back around with an innocent expression.

“What could I have done to make this happen?” He gestured to your hands, still handcuffed together.

Faramir said, “I don’t know, but it had to have been you!”

“Ask yourself this, Faramir. What motivation could I have possibly had? I think one you probably just ran astray of something else?”

You sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay, then, how do we make it stop?”

“Only time will tell,” the wizard nodded sagely.

“What are we supposed to do until then?” You exclaimed.

“Just stay together? Do everything together?” Pippin looked all too pleased by this.

“Fine. C’mon Faramir.”

The man rose, and together you marched out of the hall, handcuffs clanking, never moving further than five inches apart.

Once in the hallway, you turned to Faramir, panicked.

“What do we do? We’re stuck five inches, or less, apart from each other for Eru knows how long, we both have important duties.”

“And there’s going to the bathroom, and sleeping, and eating..” he was just as freaked out as you.

You turned to each other.

“What are we going to do?!”

“Y/N, Faramir, chill.”

You tried to turn, but the clanking and tug on your wrist stopped you as you spun the wrong way, twisting yourself with Faramir.

“Ok, no wait,” he backed up, accidentally taking you with him.

“Here, go this way, move your hand left.”

“No, no, my left, my left.”

“Spin this way?”

“You go under, I go over?”

“Aha! Yes, that worked!” You high-fived each other clunkily, and turned, making sure to bring your arms over your heads so that your hands fell back again.

“Oh, Pippin! What were you saying?”

Pippin smiled at Faramir. “I can help.”

“Would you mind telling us how?”

“You just have to accept it!”

“WHAT?” You screamed in unison.

Back in the hall, Aragorn winced at the echo of the yell.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” He questioned the wizard.

“Of course not,” Gandalf replied, “but it was not mine. It was all Pippin, and if anything goes wrong that’s who we’ll blame.”

Legolas chuckled. “Alright then. We’ll leave it all on Pippin.”

Boromir raised a mug of ale. “TO-”

He was cut off by a resounding shush, and, chastened, began again.

“To Y/N and Faramir”

Everyone echoed the sentiment, quietly, and clinked their mugs.

Back in the hallway, you and Faramir were glaring at Pippin.

“You want us to just live like this?”

“Yes! You’ll be fine, maybe it’ll wear off soon, and maybe you’ll learn something.”

“Ughhhhhh,” you stormed away, dragging Faramir behind you.

Approaching your door, you were suddenly stopped when Faramir halted behind you.

“What?”

He shuffled his feet. “Whose room are we staying in?”

You considered. “Which one is bigger? We’ll need all the maneuvering space we can get.”

You walked together over to your doorway, poking your heads inside before moving back to his.

“Yours.”

“Mine?” He asked.

“Yeah. You have more space and a bigger bed. Let’s just go back to my room so that I can grab a few things if I’ll be staying with you indefinitely.”

“How are we going to do this?”

You stared at Faramir’s bed.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

You hadn’t thought this situation could get any more awkward, but there it was. The crown jewel of awkwardness, coming out to torment you. It had been bad enough attempting to change into your nightclothes, which you’d managed by turning your backs to each other to put them on, and only wearing one sleeve. But this was worse.

You decided to just go for it, and climbed into the bed, sliding under the sheets. Your movement pulled the handcuffs so that Faramir went with you, and you ended up on one side of the bed, him on the other, hands cuffed together in the center.

“This is not very comfortable,” Faramir observed.

That was true. You were lying flat on your back when you always slept on your side, and you were literally handcuffed to another person. Unable to stand the absurdity of it all, you broke out into laughter.

Faramir joined in, and you laughed together until you had tears in your eyes. His smile was so bright in the dimly lit room, and you could listen to his laugh for a thousand years without getting sick of it.

When the laughter subsided, you decided nothing could be more uncomfortable than the position your body was currently stuck in.

“Do you usually sleep on your side?”

Faramir nodded, looking a little confused.

“Ok. I’m going to try something, it’s going to be really awkward, but we might actually be able to sleep.”

“I trust you, Y/N. Whatever you’re going to do will be fine.”

You smiled at him, internally still freaking out that you were sharing a bed with Faramir. But there was no time to panic, your shoulder was killing you.

Taking a deep breath, you flipped so that the handcuffed arm was now underneath you, chain stretching up to where Faramir’s arm hovered.

“Would you be alright with putting your arm over my waist?” You wanted to make sure he was comfortable with all this.

Craning your neck, you saw a faint blush creeping up his face in the dusky light.

“Only if it’s ok with you,” he seemed nervous.

You were too, but you nodded and felt him slowly settle his arm around your waist.

Once it was there, his hand gently hanging near your stomach, you both relaxed, letting out sighs as the tension left your bodies simultaneously.

And then you giggled. Again, because this was just too ridiculous.

He laughed too. “You alright?”

You nodded, the movement of your head bumping into his chest as he sucked in a breath.

“I’m good.”

It took a while for each of you to fall asleep, brains spinning with thoughts of the person next to you. But eventually, you did.

It was the best you had slept in years.

The next day, the two of you began to figure out how to go around with your hands stuck together. You ate by spooning the food into each other’s mouths one at a time, which you were pretty sure Boromir was sketching to memorialize forever.

You blinked your eyes open the next day to sunlight streaming through the windows, and soft breathing behind you. Carefully, you turned around so that your hands now rested between your bodies.

Faramir’s face was glowing with the light of the morning sun, hair spread on the pillow. You’d never seen him so peaceful, and he looked gorgeous like some Vala come across the world to Gondor.

Unable to resist the impulse, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

You quickly moved back, only to notice that the weight on your hand was gone.

You looked down.

The handcuffs were gone.

“Faramir! Faramir!” You shook him awake.

“What, Y/N?” He asked groggily.

His morning voice was perfection itself, and you had to bring yourself back to reality.

“The handcuffs are gone. Look!”

He shot up at this, looking down at his now-free hand.

“Wow! We should probably go let Gandalf know.”

You nodded. “Meet you in the hall in ten minutes?”

He gave you a thumbs up, and the last thing you saw as you closed the door was Faramir marveling at his now-free wrist.

Later, in the room that Gandalf had claimed as his office right next to the large hall where you usually ate, you sat together.

The wizard inquired, “What exactly happened?”

“The handcuffs were gone when I woke up,” Faramir told him.

“That shouldn’t have just happened. They were supposed to disappear when a physical manifestation of your affection for each other happened.”

“You did this?” You were outraged.

“Yes, Y/N, I did.”

Sensing that you were about to interrupt in outrage again, he added on.

“It should have been a physical manifestation of affection that was not circumstantial because of the handcuffs.”

You sighed, knowing what it was.

Faramir turned to you. “Do you know what it could have been?”

You stared straight at the floor.

“I… kissed your cheek when I woke up this morning.”

He blinked at you, shocked. Gandalf discreetly slipped out the door.

“You just looked so handsome in the sunlight with your hair glowing and I couldn’t resist and I’m so sorry and I’ll leave Gondor right now and never come back and what you must think of me no-”

“Y/N.”

You stopped rambling, looking at Faramir. He leaned closer to you, and in the depths of his eyes, you saw nothing but love. He paused for a moment, head tilted as if asking for your permission.

You nodded your head.

Faramir moved closer, tilting your chin up so that his lips met yours, kissing you oh-so-gently. Then somehow you were standing, lips still touching his as he surged closer and kissed you harder, like all the passion and feeling in the world was just pouring out of him and into you.

Finally, you broke apart, smiles on both your faces.

“I think I love you.,” you said, then clapped a hand over your mouth.

Faramir smirked. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you too.”

You gazed at each other for a few moments, before you grabbed his hand.

“Now, let’s go kill a wizard.”

Opening the doors to the hallway, you saw said wizard suddenly disappear.

You corrected yourself.

“Let’s go kill that wizard once he returns from wherever he’s hidden himself.”

Faramir laughed. “Let’s kill Gandalf later. For now, would you like to go for a walk?”

You smiled at him, looping your arm through his and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Lead on, my love.”

Everything tag❤️: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny

Fic tag: @eru-vande @annkdarar @lust4crust @the-reformed-ringwraith @ethereal-earendil

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dragonheart-swtor · 4 years

Text

Sith Inquisitor Storyline: Drunk History Version

Y’all, and by y’all I mean one person (@sith-shenanigans thank you very much), asked for it, and I live to repeat this over and over for others’ amusement, so here it is. Have my summary of the pinball machine that is the Sith Inquisitor storyline, from memory, originally drafted a while back in DMs with a friend who’s never played SWTOR. Spoilers for the Sith Inquisitor storyline, obviously.

Without further ado: Let us begin.

- So your story begins as a recently sort-of-freed slave walking off a ship and onto Hell: The Planet. (The nonhuman Inquisitor immediately experiences 2483947 microaggressions.)

- You have to compete with a bunch of other people! Only one of you is not going to die and the overseer has already picked his favorite, seemingly purely because he happens to have red skin. They will both (the overseer and Teacher’s Pet) proceed to be as annoying as possible for the rest of the Korriban story.

- multiple people try to kill you, but you’re the protagonist, so fuck them

- “Teacher’s Pet, you go to the library and translate these texts. Protagonist, you go to this ancient tomb and figure out how to retrieve an artifact from a lock that no one has been able to open in ten thousand years.” “Libraries are boring anyway. Yawn.”

- You finally get to smackdown with Teacher’s Pet, which is satisfying as hell. Unfortunately the overseer gets pissy about it. Fortunately, the Sith you’ve been competing to be the apprentice of decided she liked you early on and has also been playing favorites, so you don’t die immediately.

- your master is great! much more into positive reinforcement than most Sith.

- at some point you semi-accidentally steal someone else's cult on Nar Shaddaa and now they worship you as a nigh-on god. whoops. you just kind of... leave and let them run their own business. you pay them visits later in the storyline.

- you also become part bug so you can go skinny dipping in radioactive waste. it’s fine, we promise.

- your master is trying to steal your body because turns out she's actually really old and kind of dying so she plans on kicking you out of your body, transplanting her own soul in your place, killing her old body, and assuming your identity after "you" "killed" "your master"! that's not great, better not let her do that.

- you successfully didn't let her do that! wait, now she's sharing a body with one of your companions, an ancient monster who you kind of forced into submission and who serves you rather unwillingly now. there is apparently nothing that can be done about this so sometimes your eight-foot-tall monster not-friend talks in a high, unnervingly smooth feminine voice and tries to convince you she's on your side now that she's forced by this new body to not harm you. this is also not great but what are you gonna do. he is also Not Pleased about this by the way, and really who can blame him.

- some darth on the dark council named Thanaton decides to get pissy with you for reasons I don't remember and now he's trying to kill you. what the fuck.

- he actually almost does kill you but your old master's other apprentices, who are now your apprentices, save you from the brink of death.

- (the apprentices, by the way, are very sweet and I love them. they’re murdered by thanaton almost immediately.)

- your solution to "I need more power, fast", for some godforsaken reason, is "I'm going to learn to walk the line between life and death and EAT GHOSTS" and I wish I were exaggerating this

- you go out and eat a bunch of ghosts of old Sith on various planets

- subpoint to this: on one of these planets, you accomplish this by coercing the ghost's descendant, a Jedi padawan named Ashara, to get the ghost to appear so you can eat him. You end up murdering her masters in the process because one way or another they find out about your plan. She is understandably horrified by this turn of events and, feeling she has no chance of returning to the Jedi, reluctantly joins your crew and either (Light Side Quizzy) learns to balance light and dark sides of the Force and becomes ultimately stronger for it, or (Dark Side Quizzy) lives in abject terror of you for the rest of the storyline. I love her dearly as well. fortunately she is not murdered by thanaton.

- congrats! you ate enough ghosts to have enough power to beat thanaton up!

- unfortunately, you have Ate Too Many Ghosts Disease now and need immediate medical attention.

- your mind kind of just Shatters and you may or may not have hallucinations for a while iirc. either way you need help or you're just gonna disintegrate slowly until the ghosts overwhelm you and take over. you go to Voss and participate in some wild Force ritual they've got to take care of that. it's a fun time

- your body is also having a bad time and that also needs fixing; I don't remember where you go for this (Belsavis, I think?) but you end up checking out a machine made by a long-dead alien civilization and the machine turns out to a) be sentient and b) be responsible for CREATING A GOOD PORTION OF THE GALAXY'S NEAR-HUMAN SPECIES, IF NOT ALL OF THEM, AND DISSEMINATING THEM TO THE GALAXY AS PART OF THE RAKATA'S EXPERIMENTS ON CREATING FORCE-SENSITIVE LIFEFORMS IN HOPES OF KEEPING THEIR OWN SPECIES FROM DYING OUT BECAUSE THEY WERE SUPER RACIST AND EVENTUALLY THAT RACISM KICKED THEM IN THE ASS IN THE FORM OF A MASS REVOLUTION THAT WIPED THEM OUT COMPLETELY BUT THE MACHINE IS STILL HERE

- all right I’m calm sorry I derailed for a moment

- I have a lot of thoughts about things

- anyway the machine bUILDS YOU A NEW FUCKING BODY and you're good to go now

- (by the way, depending what species you're playing, it's entirely possible you learn at this point that your entire species only exists because of this machine!)

- (anyway.)

- okay, mind fixed, body fixed, ghosts consumed, we're good to go! time to murder a dark councilor!

- "we do that"

- except you don't because you're on corellia and this dipshit challenges you to a kaggath without really ever explaining in detail what a kaggath is or what the rules (if any) are, we just know it seems to be the ancient and very formal Sith way of saying "meet me in the denny's parking lot at 3am if you want an ass-kicking", and then hE RUNS OFF TO DROMUND KAAS WHICH DEPENDING ON WHAT GALAXY MAP YOU BELIEVE IS UP TO FIVE DAYS' TRAVEL AWAY

- YOU'RE CANONICALLY JUST CHASING THIS LITTLE BITCH THROUGH SPACE FOR FIVE DAYS AFTER HE CHALLENGED YOU

- he then goes to the Dark Council to try to convince them to help him kill you and you literally have to just go to the Dark Council chambers too and kick in the door and go "HEARD YOU WERE TALKIN SHIT" in front of everyone

- (which to be fair is basically Sith philosophy in a nutshell)

- Ravage and Marr spend this entire council meeting just exchanging tired glances and going "no, fuck you, why can't you kill them, they're your problem. fight for our entertainment now. fuck you"

- (Darth Baras did this exact same shit earlier the same day, by the way, with the Sith Warrior. and by “earlier the same day” I mean “like fifteen minutes prior to this.”)

- you fight Thanaton. to no one's surprise, because you're the protagonist and because he's being a little bitch about it, you kick his ass and slaughter him in front of everyone

- half the Council stands up and you just kind of go "oh shit I'm gonna die"

- but no

- you're being promoted

- congration you done it you're a dark councilor now

- someone complains because wait, they're not even a darth, you can't be a dark councilor if you're not even a darth

- first person responds with "well fuck you then, we'll make them a darth. hey you. your name is Darth Nox (dark side)/Imperius (light side)/Occulus (neutral) now. take a seat"

- "but - what?"

- "take a fuckin seat, babe"

- "o- okay"

- "you run the entire Ancient Knowledge sector now, by the way, despite the fact that you may or may not be illiterate due to having been raised a slave, because that was what Thanaton ran and we only have the one job opening since the Warrior just killed Baras"

- (the Warrior, freshly coined the Emperor's Wrath officially, waves from their corner where they're cleaning Baras's blood off their boots)

- "I - okay, I guess"

and that’s the Sith Inquisitor storyline. That’s a wrap, folks, roll credits. if this gets enough notes and/or if literally anyone says they’d like to see it I may also post the Imperial Agent and/or do other class stories, I enjoy these way too much

#i should put this through a star wars scrolling text maker #do they have those? i can't imagine there's not one out there #swtor #sith inquisitor #drunk history swtor

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naktigonis · 3 years

Note

Do you enjoy creating sound effects? What is it like? What is your thought process while creating them for deepwoken?

i forgot i started writing an answer to this question and left it in drafts. whoops!

better late than never, i guess. sorry anon!

---

sound effects are a mixed bag for me personally. on the one hand, i'm a musician at heart, i've done music for about 7 years now, and i've only started dabbling in sound effects recently. on the other hand, when you get a sound effect just right, it's absolutely delicious; there's something about certain sound effects that just hits the spot.

to me, the process of making sound effects is a lot less 'i am making this based entirely on vibes and it rocks' as it is with music, and a lot more like 'i am making active, conscious decisions of sound design in order to make this collection of household items being hit in various ways sound like a fireball being cast using magic'. it takes a good bit of creativity and inventiveness, and i therefore find it to be a process that is more exhausting than regular music composition.

however, it's sometimes a lot more rewarding. i love making sound effects out of stuff that could be considered racket, or just noise - clanking dishes, spoons, pieces of wood, what have you. them's the good noises. like, i took absolute delight in making the sounds for ships in Deepwoken - most of them were made using recorded stuff from my flat, too! rattling shower curtain, creaky floors and doors, my broken shambling bedframe (that has since been fixed, worry not), flapping my clothes to make it sound like fabric being tugged on by the wind...

something something autism, something something stimming lmao

---

when i am tasked with designing any sound effect, i ask myself two questions - first, is this a real sound? and two, what other sounds would produce a similar sound to this one?

the first one is pretty straightforward - if it’s something that exists, you take a sample of the existing sound (either record it yourself or give freesound a visit - they usually have a lot of CC0 stuff) and see if it needs any enhancements - a real rock being hit with a real pickaxe may need some extra metal-on-metal noises to make it pop, etc. if it’s not real, move on to question two.

as for question two, you look at whatever visual references you have on repeat, and think of what sounds come to mind. this process is kinda like what Marshall McGee does in this video (as well as some others of his, actually - check out his channel, he’s got a lot of helpful tips on sound design!). you look for samples of those either in your own library, or on freesound, and then start messing around with them.

there was a fireball sound effect that i was tasked to make early on in Deepwoken’s production, and i really enjoyed making that. it contains the sounds of burning fire (obviously), a match being lit, a firework revving up just before launch, me exhaling air, and me running a stick across some thin metal bars. if i had just put in the sounds of fire and somehow manipulated them, it probably wouldn’t have sounded as cool. so it takes a bit of creative thinking to come up with sounds that literally do not exist - but once you get the gist of it, it’s easy to come up with little tricks like this on your own. B)

#ask box #anon ask #questions #sound design #naktigonis.txt #behind the scenes

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

Photo

REVELATIONS, REVELATIONS | UPDATE #1

Hello y’all! I refuse to believe it’s been 3 and a half months since I last made an update post for this novel because time is not real :) whoops! This has actually been sat in my drafts for like a month though

A rundown of things that happened:

We have a new title! I already went into the meta and possible interpretations (it’s ~ambiguous~), so if you want you can read about that HERE.

I did 3 weeks of Nano and wrote 15k words! On the site I recorded 15053 but I think it was more 15.5k? I’ve edited the original doc now so idk but I’m v happy with that!

After that I took a break and a lot of Life Things happened re a certain pandemic that is taking :) all my motivation :) so I didn’t return to drafting until January. I also really struggled to progress with the story and decided the best thing was to revisit what I already had and work on that

It’s not that the original chapters weren’t working, I was just trying to understand the story for the first time and also Nano was such a hazy blur and I’m 99% sure November didn’t happen. I probably won’t revisit a section this intensely again until I’ve finished the draft but at this stage it really helped because the more I worked on it, the more I understood where it had to go next - I know the structure (for now), the basics for the middle and how the story ends :) hehe :) and I don’t think I’d had those revelations (aha) without revisiting this first part. I got to fall in love with the story all over again and I’m very happy with where it’s going!

This intro is already getting so long so I’m just going to jump straight into it because this update is LONG. I’m talking about all the chapters today even though not all of them are new, but since I’ve learnt a lot about them and this is officially update #1 post-nano, it makes sense to talk about all of them! I’m also going to do a new taglist because I see this as a new set of updates also I am awful at keeping up with taglists so! I’m just tagging friends who have already expressed interest + mutuals who I’m like 99% sure want to stay on so! please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@kowlazovdi @isherwoodj @avi-burton-writing @pamsdrabbles @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @svpphicwrites @aetherwrites @radiomacbeth @bijouxs @writerlywonders @haldimilks @alicewestwater @piyawrites @coffeeandcalligraphy @shaelinwrites

usual content warnings for religious trauma and cult discussion, specific CWs will come before excerpts!

So I’m currently working with four parts, and I’ve extended the timeline from one year to four years. This suits the story much better BUT pretty much everything here was written before that decision and I do not have the energy to restructure all of it right now :) Each part is split into two sections, one for each POV. So four parts, 8 sections, Felix and Dorothy get four sections each. I let the structure grow with the story but this one is working very well!

Also I started setting my pages to light green and it was LIFE CHANGING. Much kinder on the eyes and just looks so nice?? Calming?? This post is your sign to set your page colour to light green like LOOK

So we have a prologue now!! The story made a lot more sense once I added this because originally the information we learn was just shoehorned into Chapter 1 in a flashback when really we needed to know this information going into it. That being said I struggled with this for a bit just because to justify a prologue I need that information to be conveyed in a way that is completely unique to the rest of the narrative so I didn’t want to just write this as a flashback. I ended up writing it in 2nd person and it came out in a way where it’s not clear which twins POV it is? Like it’s more of a fusion of both of them where neither of them have their own individual identity beyond “the twins” yet. I can’t tell if this is my funky POV peak or a clarity nightmare but I like it! I want it to only be ~500 words so we can take the risk.

In this they’re fourteen and they do a “blood pact” as a way to symbolically cut themselves from their family (aka: their father) whilst they’re still tethered to it. I really love it because not only is it exactly what these slightly unhinged-but-havent-tapped-into-it-yet, co-dependent-and-dont-realise-it kids would do but it immediately brings up the question of family and what family actually is. I’ve also realised a huge idea in this story is the idea of the tangible and for them, the concept of family and blood isn’t tangible so they struggle to recognise its significance (not that it. has any for them in the first place.) but their relationship, seeing each other bleed and pressing the cuts together is. The writing itself is kinda wonky because of the whole funky clarity nightmare POV but here’s a little taste of the ending:

cw: blood

You’ll slink back into your family room to clean and plaster each other’s hands and you’ll ask yourselves: which bloodstains came from who? Who bled the most and who stopped first? Who will come up with the story for the cuts on your palms and who will dispose the bloodied towel? Who is Dorothy without Felix and who is Felix without Dorothy?

Shiny new first chapter! Originally this was in Dorothy’s POV but now it’s switched to Felix and instead of just showing their reunion (which turns out is....very anticlimactic and not appropriate for an opening lol??) we actually explore Felix’s thoughts an actions after he decides to escape the cult, which was a very impulsive decision and spans about a day and a half. This one is definitely gonna take a few drafts to get right because it’s such a delicate but intense event to write and I’m content with the fact that it’s not There Yet but the prose is! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and it really helped me get back into the swing of loving this story. There’s something very delicate about it but also very troubling under the surface. The opening gave me a lot of trouble, but the first line hits!

The day Felix decides to leave the sun glows the same, and the pine trees breathe the same, and the chapel cross stabs the sky the same.

Ironically, a good chunk of the chapter happens outside the cult, as Felix decides to spend his final day taking Lola - a woman his age who is literally the only person he likes lmao - to one of the nearby towns. Whilst the main function of the chapter is to introduce the cult itself, it’s also to show how normalised leaving actually is - it’s just every time he’s left has been temporary, and every time he has left, he still feel separated from this “outside world”. They go to a candy store and a thrift store - where Felix lies about his mom (who he hasn’t seen in 20 years) being in hospital so he can use a phone :) Lola is a new character so I don’t have much to say on her, but all I can say is they are wlw and mlm solidarity but also she knows how to read him

“I don’t know why Dotty and I loved this place so much - we always got toothaches.”

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“These apple ones are nice, but I think the lime is my favourite. Do you think the apple or the lime is nicer?”

“I think you’re leaving, but I also think you’re scared, so you’re pretending that I’m going to leave with you and that’s why you wanted to go to town. You chose the candy shop because this is where you went the first time you left, but this time you’re not coming back. Does that scare you, Fel?”

And here is my favourite paragraph in the whole chapter because <3 what the fuck <3 and if pine trees are a key Felix symbol no they aren’t 👁️ yes they are

cw: falling out a window? pushing yourself out a window? description of bones breaking

The day Felix decides the leave, when the clouds bleed amber, he pushes the scratched mahogany dresser so it lines with the windowsill, lies on top and hangs his head out. It’s never comfortable, but it’s always peaceful: sometimes cars murmur on nearby backroads, sometimes a wind chime flutters, sometimes brush rabbits rustle in shrubbery and they all breathe the same oxygen as him. He closes his eyes, inhales the pine air, and plays God: pushes himself further out, an inch at a time, until his shoulders cross the line and he wonders what bones would break if he fell. Would he break both arms or one, both legs or one? Would he break his spine? Which vertebra would crack, and how many? Would he feel them all in one big strike, or all the individual bones burst like popping candy? Evening breeze whispers against his face and he could do it right now, leap out the window and if he didn’t break his legs or back he could run to the bushes, to the pine trees, to the road, the town over East or West, the county line.

If Felix hit the ground, would it be because of a freak fall, or because he pushed himself out?

We have to laugh because I’m pretty sure I said in my Nano update that this chapter was the strongest so far besides one scene but when I looked back that scene <3 took up 80% of the fucking chapter <3 So I just said fuck it I’ll rewrite the whole thing for fun!!!! And I love it!!! It’s so jarring compared to Chapter One and that’s the point!! Everything is so over saturated and originally that was just to convey the absolute shock Felix gets from the Major Impulsive Life Decision He Just Made, but now I think it’s intentional on his part and it goes back to the idea of the tangible: whilst he didn’t grow up totally isolated this is still a new life for him, and he has nothing to latch onto, so he looks to his surroundings and hyper-focuses and latches onto it because it’s something that’s now tangible and accessible to him so he sees it in this very bright, romanticised way (the romanticisation of San Francisco is very amusing to me but it’s also very relevant). But even with that he still distances himself from this environment still - the same way he did whilst living in the cult. He has no idea how he wants to exist in this world and he doesn’t even know how to exist yet.

And so it became clockwork: eyes burst open at two, three, four in morning, doesn’t bother trying to fall back to sleep. Lurk into the kitchen, make a coffee or water or whiskey. Sit under the fritzing lightbulb with no shade, think about everything and nothing and everything and nothing. Or go for a smoke, inhale the vapours until it hurts his chest, breathe in the cool air until it hurts his teeth, wander around the block until it hurts his feet. Sneak back into a room that doesn’t belong to him in an apartment that doesn’t belong to him in a city that doesn’t belong to him. Count the bumps in the popcorn ceiling until footsteps sneak down the hall – Dorothy leaving a room that doesn’t belong to her. Join his sister back at the kitchen, she complains that they need to replace the lightbulb. Over pulpy orange juice and scrambled eggs on toast, she retells her dream and lists the possible meanings and he lists his plans for that day on how to immerse in the outside world, familiarise himself with the city until it belongs to him. Travel by trolley for the first time, eat seafood at the waterfront for the first time. Bump into a cherry-headed conure parrot by chance. Climb Twin Peaks and gaze at the new view of home. Trace the outline of translucent mountains in the air and pretend you’ll ever hike them; trace the outline of high rises in the air and pretend you know the people in them. He asks Dorothy when he’ll stop feeling like a tourist – she has no answer for him.

(context: Dorothy’s roommate, Jolie, is out of town at this point, so Dorothy tells Felix to take her room whilst she takes Jolie’s and they’ll sort it out later. Dorothy has no problem sleeping in Jolie’s bed because her and Jolie are Very Good Friends)

I also realised that, in the nicest way possible to November me, that this chapter was so damn boring because it’s very dialogue heavy but in every dialogue moment they are literally just 🧍 doing nothing. So I wrote a scene as a half-joke of Just Met Like Three Hours Ago Beau and Felix going to the arcade and it saved this chapter. It is SO fun but it also comes straight after this very emotionally intense moment and it’s really interesting to see that reach its zenith and then just. fizzle out but linger in the background? I love this scene but I also can’t take it too seriously because they play Frogger and @aetherwrites joked that the game’s a metaphor for Felix leaving the cult and I love her and hate her because she is so right I can picture the LIT1000 seminar where that analysis would be made unironically and it’d be ME who makes it and I am so close to just running with that for real. Also these two aren’t love at first sight but the chemistry is so loud like did you two meet today or have you been married for eight years and own five dogs together what’s the truth? Anyway here’s Felix murdering Beau on sight

“You know, you could’ve warned me that you’d be that good,” Beau says.

“It’s not that difficult, you could’ve warned me that you’d be that bad.”

Beau leans across to shuffle through cassette tapes in the glove compartment. “I’m not, you just got lucky. I let you win.”

“But it’s not even competitive. You just died seven times in a row.”

I’m a little unsure of the pacing for this chapter now because its effectiveness lies in the fact it takes place a week after the previous, and my job with this section post-draft is to stretch it out longer since it only spans three weeks. I’m hoping I can make it work where there’s little time between Chapter 1 & 2 but still cover more time in chapters 3-5 because I think that’d be jarring in the best way? Like the absolute intensity of that initial week quickly dissolving and suddenly he’s been living this life for months he didn’t notice go by. Again <3 a problem for post draft me <3

I don’t have much to say about this one because in Nano I didn’t even finish it, and now I have but it’s still <3 giving me trouble <3 - however I’ve realised this is probably the most important chapter at this stage of the novel because it’s the first full chapter with just the twins, trying to have a bonding moment and catch up but only learning that they a) love each other b) can’t stand each other whilst not realising just yet that they are c) extremely co-dependent. I like to call this novel multiple plot threads in a trench coat and that’s definitely it, the twins have their own individual plot threads separate to one another, but if there’s a central plot (and there kinda is?? its a surprise :) ) at its essence is them realising how fucked up their relationship is, but wanting to rectify that and trying to understand the difference between a tangled and toxic relationship.

This chapter introduces that each character has a key symbol that’s attached to the world somehow and Felix has chapters like these in his arc where he tries to navigate the state of their relationship (so there’s one later on titled “Ocean (Beau)”) and his associations with them. We have to laugh here because I was really like “oh Dorothy is sapphic so I’ll make her obsessed with the moon” but then it became a major symbol in the story <3 Dorothy IS obsessed with the moon, and Felix is frustrated because he can’t see it the way she does and he feels like part of him is missing because of that, when it’s just a different perspective but nooo these two need to have unhealthy co-dependency and then get mad when they’re unhealthily co-dependent on each other :/ Anyway I’d just like to talk about how Felix’s need to be like his sister in this chapter is demonstrated through a symbol that’s attached way more to her than it is to him even though in the prose he describes the moon as this fragile, breakable thing which is the complete opposite as how Dorothy would and lets talk about the blade mirroring the prologue!!!!

He closed an eye and pointed the blade at the moon. If he could, it’d be so easy: surgeons precision, swift wrist flick, carved and plucked from the sky. Laid out on his palm like tissue paper, half translucent and as breakable as skin - a birthday present for Dorothy, if he doesn’t tear it. He’ll try not to, but it’d be so easy.

In further development of the Moon Imagery, I’ve started using a lot of Star Imagery with Felix and a lot of general space imagery in both of their POVs and I’m delighted to say I have no idea what the meta means with that but I like it!! It fits the story very well and they’re probably mirroring each other or something!

This little chapter taught me that I need to be flexible with form <3 this was originally meant to be the final scene of the last chapter, and I was so hyped because it was one of the first scenes I conceptualised, but then it ~sucked~. However I didn’t realise until recently that it sucked because I was writing it in a traditional storytelling form - which most of this book benefits from, but this moment certainly does! not! I’m really glad because I think this book is the perfect playground for experimental form - although here it’s relatively simple though, most of the setup for this happens at the end of the previous chapter and then this is just all the information condensed as much as possible. This chapter is focused on memories so it really works for it to be cut off from the previous which is in the fictive present, and Felix’s perception of memories right now are ~a little jarring~

The final scene of Moon (Dotty) depicts Felix and Dorothy breaking into a park at 4am, promptly having an argument that results in Dorothy leaving, and Felix sat next to a fountain picking pennies out of it and trying to associate a memory with the year on the back - this chapter is those memories and this introduces the fluid relationship characters have with their past. For Felix, he’s seeing the last 20+ years from a bird eyes view in a very sporadic way and it’s starting to sink in that those 20+ years actually Happened. Some of the memories are very distanced, others are as intense as flashbacks, and some are a mixture of the two. This one is very interesting to me because he completely separates himself from the memory halfway through Fel do you wanna talk about this (unfortunately I cannot drop the name because of plot <3)

cw: light/implied homophobia

IN GOD WE TRUST / 1978

The first time Felix held a boys hand was in 1978 in the back pew at morning service. It was the first time [redacted]’s father preached and they got stuck in the back because they arrived late, because they laid in the grass together, wearing each other’s identical pecan coloured blazers as sunrise peeled back the night, and they slunk into the back of service like ghosts everyone could see and maybe they knew why they were late. [Redacted]’s father had a razor voice and he made sure every word sliced into his son and his son interlocked fingers with the boy next to him. His son didn’t look at the boy he held hands with the same way he’ll pretend his blazer is his and not the boys and the same way he didn’t look at the boy the first time they kissed behind the chapel building and the same way he didn’t look at the boy during Bible study for the week after.

Whilst I’d say in Chapter 2 the chemistry between Beau and Felix is as clear as day this is the first instance where Felix’s queerness is explicitly introduced and I’m taking this chance to say this book gets more queer every fucking week. Like I think in the last updates I was like ohhh sexuality doesn’t play much into Felix’s arc and know it’s like 99% of his damn arc and we LOVE it. But at this point he doesn’t realise like when I tell you guys this man is so repressed

I am literally only putting this here because I talk about all the other chapters and it’s weird to me to leave one out. Also because the graphic and title is pretty. Not gonna lie I love making these posts and that is 10% to ramble about meta 90% making pretty graphics that is literally just cropping photos on Unsplash and putting Garamond text over them <3

Anyway this was originally Lessons in Holy and when I revisited that chapter I realised it was so fucking messy and I tried to fix it but it didn’t really work and I’ve been scared to touch it since. However the meta is top notch so here we are - it mirrors Chapter One, Everything Holy, which explores Felix’s decision to leave the cult and with that, leave God. Everything Holy / In San Francisco explores his relationship (or lack thereof) with God and how much Felix’s life has changed since he left - and how “holy” it is. It definitely goes back to the idea of the tangible because the holiness preached to him growing up was not something tangible to him, whereas with this he looks at real life experiences, so he tries to find holiness in that. It also ties with Cyan City and the romanticisation of San Francisco as something tangible and something he can find holiness in, which a) he needs to learn that things don’t have to be “holy” to be valuable and b) it would be a shame if :) he centred everything good about his life around SF and then :) something bad were to happen whilst living in SF :) the way he and Dorothy both do this

My plan for this is basically: Condense The Shit Out Of It. The hardest part about this chapter is it is very thematic and you know as a lit major (derogatory) I love that but with more theme centric chapters the line between subtle and Too Much can be verrryyy thin, but I think focusing on character exploration over theme will fix that pretty easily. I’d also like to separate the Isaias introduction into its own chapter because it’s such an important moment and November me just? Latched it on at the end? And that plus Felix’s crisis in the same chapter is just too much. This chapter is gonna get changed A Lot but for now here’s Felix’s very chill and relaxed ending to his POV section :)

cw: drowning, drug mention

Felix didn’t speak to God for three weeks and everything unholy became holy: the coffee scorching his throat, the kaleidoscopic t-shirts and high waisted jeans, the punk rock they play at the record store – loud and electric. It’s unholy, but he sleeps through the night now, he folds coloured card into butterflies at breakfast and scribbles biro eyes over the newspaper's sudoku on his lunch break. He earns money and he spends a pinch of it on himself: on new wave records and playing cards and earrings he can’t wear yet. Sometimes he buys marijuana it’s not a sin because marijuana means he only smokes tobacco twice a day now – one at breakfast, one before bed. He bar hops with Beau on Saturdays and hikes with Dorothy on Sundays and he tells strangers he studies American Literature and he smiles with his eyes more and nobody notices that somebody’s holding his head underwater. And he doesn’t know whose hand it is, but it knows how to grip tight. And he doesn’t know how to swim, but he knows how to swallow water. And he doesn’t know if this is the punishment or the sin because the water stings his eyes but he chooses to keep them open, and the water will tangle in his lungs but he chooses to keep his mouth open. And hellfire can’t touch him under here, so he’ll keep swallowing water and it’ll burn him in a different way, and he’ll like how it scorches his throat.

(Once again context I didn’t share because I don’t like the writing that talks about it: Felix has a deep fear of drowning from past trauma, but he’s also very obsessive about it and often imagines himself drowning.)

(also the way these excerpts are just showing off my love for repetition my Intro to Creative Writing Tutor that called repetition lazy is seething rn!!!!)

Overall though, I’m v happy with how this section came out now that I actually know what the story is! As I’ve finished drafting it, I have noticed where the missing plot beats are and this is what I expected because I Do Not have a lot of experience with novels (I’ve never passed 15k on a novel before so we’re in new territory now) and generally struggle to see beats before I finish a draft. I’m thinking there’s at least one chapter missing and maybe a shorter one, like MSATBOTF, but I won’t be touching this section again until I finish the draft. Most of all I learnt a lot about the story’s form and I’m excited to play with that and be a bit more flexible!

I’m currently drafting Indigo, the first chapter in Dorothy’s POV, and I was going to talk more about it but this post is too long and the next update will be <3 all about her <3. But the chapter introduces her and Jolie’s tumultuous relationship and here’s a lil peak!

Me, a sapphic, capable of writing happy sapphic relationships:

Me instead:

cw: light/implied homophobia

If she didn’t display the ticket on the bedside table - like she had something to prove - she could have easily been in Dallas, in New York, London, Cannes, Moscow, Tokyo, Cairo, Sydney. But wherever she went, Dorothy and Jolie have had four airport reunions before today - four times they’ve had to soften themselves, disguise themselves. Old high school friend flying in to be her maid of honour, college roommates who don’t see each other as a day past eighteen, pen pals reuniting for the first time since the seventies, business trip colleagues in casualwear. The fifth time, there’s nothing to hide, and as they walk to the car, Dorothy has to wonder: if they were seen by nobody, would Jolie have hugged her with both arms? Would she have kissed her? Would Dorothy kiss back?

I’m midway through this chapter, so I’ll keep the rest of it for the next update! That I promise won’t be in three months!

If you read through all of this then I am in love with you <3

#i'd say im sorry this is so long but it was so fun to write so i'm not!#also pls be proud i cut 2k words from this bc i RAMBLED #atlastracking #writeblr #writing update #revelations revelations

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doc-pickles · 4 years

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the jolex college AU that literally no one asked for

Soooo I did a thing. I’ve actually had 90% of this in my drafts for awhile and I just decided to finish it today. (nina you said you didn’t have any fics in your drafts. WELL I’M STUPID SO THERE’S THAT) I’m not planning on expanding this past a one shot but it’s a fun little AU that my mind kicked up one night while watching 14x15 and drinking too much sangria. It’s not polished up or beta read but I figured something is better than nothing :)

also TW// jo swears like a freaking sailor in this fic

“A fucking fire alarm? Really?!”

Jo Wilson was not one to be inconvenienced, especially not while she was in the damn shower. She let a groan out as the water above her shut off, probably an incentive to get her out of the building in case it really was on fire.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Jo muttered to herself, reaching for her towel. After wrapping it around herself, she realized that she hadn’t brought her clothes with her. “Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Fuming with anger, Jo began to walk down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor and out the front door of Earl Hall. Various cat calls and whoops met Jo’s ears, but she was too angry with whoever the hell set off the fire alarm to acknowledge them.

“Wilson! You trying to give us a show here,” Jo turned at her name, staring down Andrew DeLuca as he attempted to get under her skin… or under her towel. “I wouldn’t say no to a free peep show.”

“Oh shove off DeLuca, you’ll fuck anything with a pulse,” Jo retorted, earning a howl of laughter from DeLuca’s friends. “I’ll show off the goods to anyone who can tell me who set off the fucking fire alarm while I was showering though.”

“That would be me.”

Jo whipped around, one hand coming to hold the bottom of her towel in place as she came face to face with the person who had effectively ruined her day.

She hadn’t met the man before, but Jo was instantly mesmerized. He wore a dark blue shirt and plaid boxer shorts, hair ruffled at odd angles and the beginnings of a scruffy beard appearing on his sharp jawline. The man was handsome and by God did Jo just want to fuck him right there and then.

Kill him. Kill him right there and then.

Jesus Christ Jo, pull your head out of your vagina.

“So you’re the asshole that set off the alarm,” Jo asked, eyebrow raising as if daring him to refute her words. “Well hi, I’m Jo and I’m fucking pissed at you.”

“I’m Alex and I really enjoy your talent for slipping the word ‘fuck’ into almost every sentence that comes out of your mouth,” Jo stared back at Alex, unamused by his joke. “Listen I’m sorry, I was trying to study for chem and my hot plate burned a hole through my notebook. You should be back in soon if it’s any consolation.”

As if by fate, the fire alarm stopped ringing and someone shouted that it was safe to go back in. Students began to file in but Jo and Alex kept their staring match going. She couldn’t tell if it was the mounting sexual tension between them or just plain old hostility, but Jo couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man in front of her.

“You’re on my fucking shit list Alex,” Jo stated firmly before walking away. “You better watch it!”

“Hey! You didn’t hold up your end of things,” Alex called out, causing Jo to turn back around and lift an eyebrow in question. “You said that you would ‘show off the goods’ to anyone who told you why the fire alarm went off. Well that was me.”

Jo paused momentarily, thoughts racing a million miles a minute before she moved closer to Alex and opened her towel up. Eyes wide, Alex immediately diverted his gaze away from Jo, not anticipating that she would actually flash him. With a satisfied smirk, Jo tucked her towel back into place and walked back towards the dorm hall.

“Have a good fucking night Alex!”

“If I never end up at another frat party it’ll be too soon,” Jo complained, swatting a hand away from her ass as she followed her roommate towards the kitchen. “Why’d you have to drag me out here, Hannah? You know Brandon trolls these parties looking for unsuspecting girls to trick into dating him so he can cheat on them a month in.”

Hannah looked at Jo with a bored expression, as if to say she was tired of hearing this story over and over again.

“We get it, you hate Brandon Thomas and everything he stands for,” Hannah rolled her eyes and handed a red solo cup to Jo. “But you realize that this is the Kappa house and Brandon is in Chi Omega. They’re sworn enemies, you’ll never see him here unless the planets align and someone’s sacrificed a virgin to the moon god.”

Jo rolled her eyes, lips coming to the cup and taking a large swallow of the jungle juice inside. She didn’t really know anyone at these parties, but there was always free alcohol and she had a pocket knife stashed in her bra in case she got into trouble.

“Jo, promise me you won’t kill me but Brandon is here,” Jo’s head whipped around to look at Hannah, eyes wide as she stared her roommate down. “He’s by the front door, just turn around and walk towards the backyard and you’ll never see each other.”

Jo eyed the back door, only 50 feet from where she was standing. She could definitely make it there without being noticed. Weaving through the crowd, Jo was positive she would get out without accident.

“Jo! Is that you?”

Brandon’s voice sounded over the crowd, making Jo cringe as she realized she had been caught. She looked around in a panic, almost yelling as a pair of arms slid around her waist.

“Just play along, I hate that douche bag too,” Jo looked up in shock, realizing that the person that had grabbed her was the guy who had set off the fire alarm last week. “Nice to fucking see you, Jo.”

“Oh you’re a piece of- MMM,” Jo was cut off by Alex’s lips pressing into hers. Jungle juice and adrenaline coursing through her veins, Jo presses back against him. Alex holds her against him for a minute more, one hand trailing to grab her ass while the other pulls her closer into his embrace. Her free hand unconsciously comes up to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck and Jo swears she can feel him moan under the pounding sounds of bass music that surround them. Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, he pulls away with a crooked grin.

“Sorry, that prick Thomas was walking by, had to give him a show. You’re welcome.”

Alex walks away from Jo then, leaving her standing in the middle of a frat house party completely confused.

“Jo! I’m walking out the door but your alarm has been going off for 20 minutes!” Hannah slammed the door to the dorm room, abruptly waking Jo up. She looked to her bedside clock, groaning loudly as she realized that she had 15 minutes to get across campus to her 9:30 AM class.

“Well fuck,” Jo bemoaned as she rolled out of bed, grabbing whatever clothes were around her and throwing them on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t miss O Chem again. Fuck!”

Rushing out the door, Jo let her worn out sneakers pound across the pavement towards her Organic Chemistry class. It was only week two of spring semester and she couldn’t risk missing class for a second time.

Skidding into the lecture hall, Jo raced past a few students and slid into the back row of her class only five minutes late. She let out a loud breath, pulling her notebook out of her backpack as she tried to tune into the professor.

“You know you might be able to learn more if you show up on time,” Jo’s head snapped up as she looked to her left, realizing that the seat she had chosen was right next to Alex. “Funny seeing you here.”

“You have a lot of nerve trying to talk to me again after what you did at that house party,” Jo kept her eyes locked on her notebook, refusing to even glance at Alex as she started writing notes. “Even if you did save my ass, who goes around kissing strangers?”

“We’re not strangers. I know that your name is Jo and we live in the same hall and you smuggle cereal out of the dining hall when you think no one is looking,” Alex shrugged, eyes trained on the lecturer at the front of the hall. “And you’ve shown me your rack, I feel like that counts for something too.”

Side eyeing the man next to her, Jo watched Alex listening intently to their professor. He had a serious expression painted on his face, one that made him look years older than he was. Today he wore a forest green sweatshirt that bore the university’s wrestling team logo. Jo thought back to the first time she met Alex, remembering the way his shoulders and arms were built up more than anything else on his lean body. His dark hair and eyes that had instantly caught Jo’s eye seemed harsher under the fluorescent lighting of the classroom. This version of Alex that she was staring at today seemed so different than the Alex who accidentally set his chemistry book on fire and kissed her at a party to help her avoid her cheating ex. This Alex… well he seemed cold and unapproachable.

“Okay that only proves that you’ve been stalking me,” Jo rolled her eyes. “What do you want? Are you expecting me to sleep with you? Or help you with your homework? Because that’s a no on all of the above.”

“Nah figured you needed a friend,” Alex shrugged, pencil tapping against the edge of his textbook. “You seem like the lonely type.”

“I am not lonely,” Jo’s voice comes out louder than intended. Her next words are softer as she glares at Alex, their teacher and lesson long forgotten. “I’m just selective about who I spend my time with.”

She does try to concentrate on her work then, but Jo can feel Alex’s eyes boring into the side of her head. He frustrates her, angers her in a way that nobody has before and she can’t decide if she wants to punch him in the face or kiss him until she can’t breathe.

Wait what?

Jo shook her head, trying to clear out the image of a shirtless and sweaty Alex out of her mind. She was not going to start fantasizing about the handsome muscular man who’s lips felt like velvet against hers and who’s hand on her ass made her feel like-

“You’re drooling.”

Her hand flew up to her cheek, wiping at the small pool of liquid as her cheeks flamed red. She chanced looking over to Alex, who wore a shit eating grin that was slightly crooked. Damn it, keep it in your panties Jo!

“I was thinking about… dinner tonight,” Jo nodded, keeping her gaze forward. “Probably going to get… take out, something fast and easy.”

“Fast and easy, huh?,” Jo could swear that Alex’s voice took on a husky quality to it as he lowered his volume. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine as she futilely tried to calm the rising sensations in her body. ”That’s my favorite. For dinner I mean, I love it fast… and easy…”

Whipping her head around, Jo locked her eyes with Alex’s. The intensity of their stares almost scared her, but more than that Jo was desperate. She wanted this complete stranger (and total asshole) in the worst ways possible, her mind conjuring up images that would send her straight to Hell if she dared to say them out loud.

“I have no idea what the professor is talking about,” Jo admitted, eyes watching Alex’s lips as her tongue darted out wet her own. “But I really wanna get out of here.”

“If I fail this class because of you, you’re never gonna hear the end of it,” Alex was hastily shoving his books into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as Jo rose and made a beeline for the door.

The pair ignored the stares they got from their classmates as they raced out the door, jetting into the empty hallway in a fit of giggles. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Jo found herself in Alex’s embrace. He pinned her against the wall, lips hungrily devouring hers as her hands fisted his hair roughly.

“Come on lover boy,” Jo smirked, hand tangling in Alex’s own as she broke apart from him and dragged him down the hall. “My roommate has classes for the rest of the day so my dorm is empty.”

#alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson #jolex #jo x alex #jolex fic #greys anatomy #greys fanfic #greys #jolex fanfic #nina writes

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cadaceus · 3 years

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C1E08

Hello, all! I found this post in my drafts that must have been from literal months ago--the ending is very abrupt, so I’m assuming that I never posted these because I may not have finished the episode entirely? Shame on me! But I thought I’d post them anyways especially now that I’m thinking of continuing on with my Campaign 1 journey! Without further ado, here are my spoilery liveblog comments for Campaign 1, Episode 8 of Critical Role!

- Wait I have forgotten everything that happened, so I actually need the little early episode recap this time whoops

- OH YEAH THE VAX LAVA DILEMMA LMAO DFGSDJKL

- Tiberius: *is silent because he’s stone* Scanlan: “By the way, this is the best conversation we’ve ever had with Tiberius” I am not saying anything. I will keep my mouth shut. But y’all already know what I’m thinking stdrtfskdjk

- Somebody please stop giving bags of holding to Travis’s characters because apparently Vox Machina lost theirs as well sdfghjkl

- Matt’s imitation of Grog at like 20:50 is so cute, the whole cast was adorable back then (I say, even though I am still ten years younger than they were)

- Tiberius telling Kima to put a good word in with Allura................ harold,......

- Hearing the Council of Tal’Dorei get mentioned without seven voices immediately asking who exactly is on it is such a whiplash from Campaign 2

- “You had better be worth it” Keyleth not pulling punches when it comes to Lady Kima today, damn

- Scanlan: “Pike I’ll cuddle with you for warmth, if you want?” Pike: “No, thank you” Vax: “Scanlan, I am very cold :)” Scanlan: “No, thank you”

- Wait why does Pike’s symbol of Sarenrae have a crack in it?? What did she do?? 😭

- “I will wait for that. And I love women.” SAM LMAO

- Okay, Vax gets a begrudging “what’s hotter than rogues? nothing” for that Natural 20 grapple (begruding in that i am betraying the wizards nation, lol!)

- Teeth in this guy’s throat?? *shudders*

- Matt: “It’s entire trachea is covered with teeth” / Sam: “It has a maw?” HELP knowing how often Matt uses the phrase “toothy maw” now this interaction truly feels like the beginning of an era

- The image of Trinket just bursting out of Vex’ahlia’s chest after his Polymorph drops is so funny bye shfghdsjk

- WAIT NO TRINKET

#the ending of this liveblog is such a disaster because i CANNOT remember what happened to trinket. is he okay????#vox machina liveblog #cr1 liveblog #i forget which tag i use #critical role #vox machina

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agwitow · 3 years

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Hey there's two parts to this. My first question is How do you handle writer’s block? Writing can be an emotionally draining and stressful pursuit. Any tips for aspiring writers? Bonus Question How do you deal with emotional impact of a book (on yourself) as you are writing the story?

Hi Nonny, thanks for asking!

Okay, so... I have thoughts about this, and that might make this answer a bit, uh, longer... than you were expecting. Sorry in advance if you were wanting something quick.

Right, so. Writer’s Block. The boogeyman of writers everywhere. We hear people complain about it all the time, there are tons of guides to beating it (I’m even writing an entire book about getting yourself unstuck when it strikes), and everyone will likely give you a different answer as to why it happens and how to beat it.

To my way of thinking, this is because there are several different types of writer’s block. Too Many Ideas, or Not Enough Ideas, or Mental/Physical Exhaustion, or Written Into a Corner, or Bogged Down By Details, or Missed A Step

1. Too Many Ideas

While this might not sound like it’s all that bad of a thing (how can a creative type have too many ideas?), it can actually be really frustrating to deal with. Sometimes it means you keep getting ideas for new projects, and sometimes it means you keep getting new ideas to squeeze into your current project, and then sometimes it means you keep thinking up different ways to tell the current story.

Ugh. Well. Silver lining, your creative juices are certainly flowing. But that doesn’t help you get any writing done.

So if you’ve got this type of writer’s block, the best way I’ve found to deal with it is to have a notebook or word doc (or something along those lines) to jot down all the ideas as the come to you. You can even have a separate document for the ideas that pertain specifically to your current project. But the trick here is that as soon as you write the idea down, you push it aside and ignore it.

This can be hard to do at first. New ideas are soooo shiny that you can’t help but want to play with them. So it can help if you set aside a bit of time every week to go over all the ideas you’ve jotted down. Just make sure it’s a time that’s distinct from your writing time. Once you’ve gotten into the habit of this, then the flurry of ideas will no longer hinder your writing.

Alternatively, you can try channeling all that extra creativity into another art form. Especially something big and messy ;)

2. Not Enough Ideas

When people talk about experiencing writer’s block, they’re usually thinking it’s because you don’t know what to do next in your story (i.e., that you don’t have enough ideas), but this is actually pretty rare. Usually you’ve hit that block because of one of the other items on this list.

But, when it is because the well has run dry (so to speak), then it’s like trying to start a car with a dead battery. And just like that, you need to grab some jumper cables and give it a boost.

Do some yoga, go for a walk, listen to music, watch the clouds drift by, go stargazing, get your heart pumping, read poems that make you cry.

Basically, you need to shake things up. Drag yourself out of the rut you’ve found yourself in by doing things non-writing related. Not only is that good for your general health, it’ll recharge your creativity.

3. Mental/Physical Exhaustion

This type of writer’s block has probably become the most common over the last year or so. It is dang hard to be creative when you are mentally and/or physically drained. This can come about because of stress, lack of sleep (literal exhaustion), pain, injury, illness, or lack of self-care.

The most important thing with this type of writer’s block is to remember that it’s okay to take a break. Your mental and physical health is more important than completing a writing goal.

Give yourself the space to rest, and your creativity will return.

4. Written Into a Corner

Let me tell you, I’ve fallen into this one a lot. It sucks, and it can take awhile to figure out why it’s such a struggle to write. It usually happens when you are determined to have a specific event or sequence of events play out in your story, but your subconscious is recognizing that the scene/event/storyline doesn’t fit.

If you can’t seem to figure out how to connect your current scene to where you need to go next, then it’s very possible that you should remove the current scene entirely, or completely rewrite/change it.

You might think this only applies to pantsers (people who write without having an outline first), but it happens to plotters just as frequently. It’s not about a lack of planning, it’s about not realizing that the way you’re forcing the story doesn’t match with some other part of it. Maybe because of extra world building, or research, or character development, or lines of dialogue three chapters back, but whatever the reason, it’s made the current scene not-quite-fit.

This is okay. It’s not a failure of planning or creativity or you as a writer. It just happens sometimes.

Go back a scene or two and rethink how to get to the next plot point. Can you rework the troublesome scene? Do you need to remove it? Replace it with something else entirely? Whatever the solution, it’s okay. Your story will be better for it.

5. Bogged Down By Details

Along the same line as the previous one, this kind of writer’s block often leaves you unsure of how to progress to the next scene. The difference here is that this time it’s because you let the narrative point of the scene become lost in the minutiae. Maybe it’s a big info-dump, or maybe you let the characters get sidetracked by sightseeing, or maybe some random supporting character has been elevated to having a three-page monologue.

Whatever the cause, you’ve tried to cram too much information into the scene and now it feels weird to connect it to the next one.

Read over the scene and identify what information absolutely needs to be there for the story to progress. Is there any information that doesn’t need to be there, but is good set-up for something later? Keep those bits. Everything else you need to cut.

Yup. Sorry.

If you really like the information or dialogue or what-have-you, save it and see if you can work it in to other parts of the story in small bits. A little extra world building here and there can really make a story feel alive. It’s when there is too much in one spot that it becomes a problem.

6. Missed A Step

This one is almost the opposite of the last two points. Instead of having too much, or conflicting information, you’re missing something. For me, this is usually a rewrite/edit writer’s block phenomenon, but I’m sure there are lots of writers who experience it during their first draft too.

Basically, in your hurry to get from point A to C, you forgot all about B. Whoops!

If you’re writing (or editing) and the scene feels disconnected or like you’re having to do a lot of flashback-style inserts to get the reader up to speed, then you probably need to add something to a previous scene, or add a new scene altogether.

Usually this one (at least for me) doesn’t feel as much of a ‘block’ as the other types, but more like I can’t move forward until something is resolved. That something being the missing info/scene.

So yup... there are different types of Writer’s Block, and how you deal with it depends on what type it is. You might find that you experience one type more than the others, or that you experience a different type that I didn’t describe (in which case, please share). However you are facing off against writer’s block, just remember that it isn’t the end of the world. It’s just a sign that something needs to change.

As far as tips for aspiring writers go, I’ve answered a couple of different asks about that sort of thing before, so (to keep this from being monstrously long) check those out.

For your bonus question... I just let myself cry when I need to, or bounce around after the scene is written, and/or do some light sparring with my partner to work out the anger/stress afterwards.

Emotionally charged scenes are rough, but so rewarding. Keep on writing ‘em :)

Thanks again for asking!

xoxo

#writing #writeblr #ask me anything #Anonymous #writer's block #writing advice

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screamhole · 3 years

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MY DATE WITH DEATH: A TRUE MEMORY & STORY

Did I ever tell you about my date with Death? Well, it’s a pretty horrible day where I’m at, so what better way to kill it than by spinning up one of my famous stories? And let me tell you, this one spins like a Beyblade in Hell on acid!

Folks, let me tell you about the time I died, and all the fun I had along the way.

It all started in the bathroom, as so many classics do. I was brushing my teeth in the shower, as I am wont to do (note to reader: this means ‘as I want to do’; it looks dumb written out, but it’s actually smart as hell). Shower-brushing is a small time-saving trick of mine, which I never fail to apply on the daily. This day was no exception. I was all over those holy molars of mine when suddenly, I lost my footing on a bar of soap that I stand on (another of my time-saving manoeuvres) and I came tumbling down onto the slip mat. Slip is right, I thought, and would have made a note of that zinger had the toothbrush not become stuck in my windpipe. Choking, as I recall, I scrambled out of the tub and, knowing the house was empty because my wife Angie was at work, I rushed over to the neighbours’ apartment. Maybe they had air at their place, I thought. Sadly, I wasn’t quick enough; I was inches from their door when my body just couldn’t go anymore, and I collapsed on the landing floor. Luckily, I wasn’t naked; I had paused on the way to put on several pairs of pants.

So that was it. Dead. Me. Me = Dead. Except it wasn’t how I expected. I mean, I wasn’t seeing all-nothing, or even all-black. In fact, I got up and saw myself, lying there, all-dead-and-all-soapy. “Ghost!”, I said. And I was right. I was a ghost. A ghost who got to hang around and see it all, as it unfolded over the next few hours: the neighbours finding me, the two police officers standing over my stiff, sud-ridden corpse. “What do you think, Sarge?” said the young one. “Another shower-sex hallway suicide?” “Don’t be stupid, kid” said the sergeant. “This guy’s wearing pants. I think we can chalk it up to a classic toothbrush-in-the-neck life hack gone wrong.” “Good think I put on all those pants” I quipped, realising immediately that it was pointless because they couldn’t hear me. They couldn’t hear me! Damn, that was the deal, wasn’t it? You have to get all of the talking out of the way while you’re livin’. But there was so much I still needed to say about dyin’! This chin could be wagging forever, let me tell you. That’s some deal, huh? The one thing we all want to know about and here I am in the middle of it, with lips too stiff and dead to flap about it. How’s that for ass blastwards? So there I was, with a hell of a story to tell. And I knew there was only one person I’d be able to tell it to.

Whoopi Goldberg.

My grandma was dead. Is dead. She was dead, and now she is dead... again. Am I making sense here? She told me about the first time she died, back in the 90s. She was sucking on a Werther’s Original when it went down the wrong way and got stuck in her toaster and burned her house down. Lying on that hospital bed, she was legally dead for a good 27 minutes before they realised and resuscitated her (I think they were too busy watching some dumb Patrick Swayze movie on the communal television to notice). Thinking back, we all felt like she had gone crazy while she was dead, but now it seems there might have been some true-speak in all that wack-talk of hers. “If you ever die,” she once said to me as a kid, “If you die and you have to say something to a loved one, go to Whoopi Goldberg. I saw it. She helped me tell your grandfather he had soup on his good pants in the hospital, it was driving me crazy and was probably what set me off dying in the first place. I know it will work, son. If you need her, she’ll be there for you”. With those words in my ear, I packed a bag and headed out in search of Whoopi.

I made it to the airport, and was having trouble scanning my passport with no corporeal form, when out of nowhere the whole room grew dim. People froze in motion, and there was an icy chill which took over the whole space. And then, a small light, like from the end of a tunnel, grew from behind the baggage claim. A screeching whistle came with it, before a train of bones roared past my face. The brakes braked, and as the bones ground to a halt out stepped a cloaked figure from the carriage.

“Hello” he said. “You’re dead”.

“I’m dead?” I asked.

“You’re dead” he said. “And I’m Death.”

“You’re dead too?” I asked.

“That’s right, I am Death” he said.

“Me too” I said.

“I doubt it, kid” he said. “Anyway, sorry I’m late. There was some protest at Limbo station. All the staff walked out right after this demon... you know what? Not important. What is important is that you kicked your bucket. So hop on in, pup, next stop is your new forever home: Hell. OH. OH! That is, unless you want to play chess?”

I turned away from the stranger. “Sorry, I don’t play that game… not anymore, that is.” I was kind of hoping that he would dig into my deep dark past relationship with the game of kings.

“Suit yourself, friend” said Death. “Half the pieces are missing anyway. The one chess set on this hell train, you think these devil freaks are gonna put it back neatly? Fat chance. Anyhoodle, let’s get moving, up you come”.

“I’m really going to Hell?”

“Yeah” said Death. “Frickin’ Hell City, USA. And unless you wanna effin’ play chess, kid, I don’t wanna hear any more fuckin’ back talk. Hop the eff on”.

I couldn’t believe it. I had to escape; to re-live, and tell the tale of what death is like, and also what Death is like (note: make clear very handsome in second draft). A plan formed in my head, just like the plan to do a checkmate on the other guy forms in the head of a grand master chess player. “Oh, but Death,” I said “I really do want to play, but like you said we can’t play on that old set. It has no bishops”. “That’s how we like it in Hell,” said Death, “it’s really more of a drinking game. Anyway, I take your point, kid; this chess board sucks. But where do you suggest we find a decent travel chess set at this hour, in this realm of existence? You got one in your great coat?”

“No” I said. “But I think I have an idea. Let’s make a stop in… New York (maybe?)”

Luckily, my plan worked out. I had managed to guess Whoopi Goldberg’s exact location: a Starbucks on 6th Avenue (note: check real place). I had also tricked Death into taking us there on the promise there’d be chess, and also he wanted a coffee. The train of bones crunched through the coffee shop window, shattering the glass and grinding the tables beneath it. Thankfully, this all played out in the dead dimension so it was totally fine. No one noticed. No one, that is, except Whoopi.

“What the hell?!” she cried, jumping back from her table.

“Whoopi,” I said climbing down, from the bone train, “you’ve got to help me. I’m dead and I know for an absolute fact you can send messages to the living.”

“Oh I get it,” said Whoopi, “you think just because I played a medium in that movie that I can really talk to dead people?”

“Listen Whoopi, I’ve never even seen Sister Act, so please don’t assume I would be so irrational and quick to judge people like that. Instead of accusing me of stuff, how about you accept that you’re talking to a real ghost right now, and so therefore I am right.”

“Oh my God” said Whoopi. “I guess I can speak to ghosts. I guess all my years on The View have made me capable of speaking to anyone”.

“Yeah: you, Jimmy Kimmel, Graham Norton… all supremely cursed folks. Talk-show hosting is a real double-edged sword. Back to me, though. Whoopi: can you call my wife and tell her I loved her? Oh, and also I won’t be able to make it to our Saturday UNO game for obvious reasons. Oh, oh, and that the obvious reasons are that I’m going to Hell on the bone train with Death. Sorry, so much has happened today, I forget to bring people up to speed.”

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice” said Whoopi. She closed her script for Sister Act 3 and opened up Skype, making a call to the account details I gave her. The little jingle played before a familiar voice answered.

“Angie?” said Whoopi. “This is Whoopi Goldberg”

“And?” said my wife.

“Angie, I’m calling on behalf of your departed husband.”

“Oh my god,” Angie said. “What has he done now?”

“He’s dead, actually,” explained Whoopi, “choked on a toothbrush before you got home. The police must have taken him away but stopped for lunch, so they’ve not gotten a chance to let you know about it. He wants you to know that he loves you, Angie. You were the best thing in his life. Doesn’t sound like tough competition for a man who loved toothbrushes and chess, but all the same, he wanted you to know.”

“Cool, good to know” said Angie. “Hey, one second: does this mean that he’s talking with you right now?”

“Yeah,” said Whoopi “his spirit is here. Right now he’s looking at his hair in the window, even though he’s literally invisible.”

“Well, if he’s really there,” said Angie, “I’ll ask him something only he would know and that will prove ghosts are real. What’s my favourite colour?” “Shit…” I said. “Uh, I dunno, green maybe”.

“Uh, I dunno, green maybe” said Whoopi.

“Wow, that’s spooky”, said Angie. “It’s actually purple, but that idiot always thinks it’s green. He even painted the house green for our anniversary. What a dunce. Ok, cool, tell him no worries. If he can make it home tonight for UNO, great, but I’ll not be holding my breath.”

“Don’t worry, my wife,” I said. I have a plan”

“Don’t worry, his wife, he has a plan,” said Whoopi.

“I’ll definitely not wait up then. Thanks Whoopi. We loved you in Sister Act by the way” said Angie, and hung up.

“Ah, guess I have seen it,” I told Whoopi. “Well, thanks for your help. I guess there’s only one option left: I’m gonna have to kidnap and murder Death”.

“Why don’t you just beat him at chess and win your life back, like in that movie?” asked Whoopi.

“For the last time, Whoopi, I don’t remember Sister Act at all!” I said. “More to the point, I don’t play chess. Not after… that night.” I was kind of really hoping someone was gonna ask about the deep dark past thing. It’s not often I get to tell these stories.

“Suit yourself, kid” said Whoopi. “I guess you’re going to Hell, then”.

The bone train door slammed open.

“Ok kid,” said Death, “it’s been 50 minutes now. Do they have my mocha frapp or what? Are we gonna play chess now, or what? Honestly? I kind of feel like you’re using me for some kind of plot thing that’s going on for too long, and I just want to play some games to take my mind off the fact that my job sucks forever. You + Me = Hell, RIGHT NOW.”

Think fast, I thought, at a normal thought-speed. Suddenly, it hit me.

“Alright, Death. Time to play, for my very soul.”

“Sweet,” said Death.

“But not at chess.”

“Ah, Jeez!” Death groaned.

“No, I could never play chess again. It’s actually a really cool and dark story that I haven’t had a chance to tell, but maybe I could tell it if…” “Yeah, yeah, what’s the game, kid?” said Death, doing the wrap-up-the-story hand gesture with his bone-fingers.

I pulled a pack of cards from my great coat pocket (as in, the coat pocket is really great, it’s just a regular modern fashionable coat).

“UNO?!” cried Death. “Kid, you really are going to Hell.”

“Not if I can help it,” I said. “I was taught by the best: my wife. She made me the player I am today. And she takes no prisoners. So yes, Death. I’d wager my life on the back of her teaching”.

Death pulled up a table, and leaned his scythe against the coat rack.

“Whatever, dude. Just deal ‘em out.”

I played Death best of three. Best of three is right, I thought. More like the best three games of my life, let me tell you. They had to be, given what was at stake. We tied one-to-one. Death learned the game so fast, and he was soon a worthy competitor. It was down to the knuckle, which was unfair given his were so much more visible. We were down to two cards each, and it was his turn. I had to pull it out, but these last two cards were the worst I could have had. He slammed down a green 3.

“This is it, kid. This next card’s a ticket to Satan’s ass. STANDARD CLASS.”

I flipped a yellow 3.

“UNO,” I declared, “and guess what, Death? You were so busy sassing me, you forgot to say UNO yourself, so you have to PICK UP.”

Death shuddered realising his mistake.

“What?! No!” he cried. “Ah, fuck this game! Why couldn’t we have played Demon Party Drunk Chess anyway. Oh my god, these cards suuuuuck!”

The last card was one of those wild cards you can write on. “I’m done, Death. And my custom rule is that you have to give me my soul and my life back.”

“The game’s over kid. Also, I don’t think that’s a real rule you can make anyway. But a bet is a bet.” He waved his hand, doing cool Death magic or something. “Now get back to living before I do something I regret”.

I felt my spirit form fading as I regained my life inside my body. It looked kind of like that scene with Marty McFly in Back To The Future where he’s almost erased from existence.

“Wow,” I said. “This is just like that movie”.

“Yep.” said Death, walking away sulkily. “Just like Sister Act.”

“Thanks for everything” I said. “So long.”

“You know, it is a shame. I would have liked to play with you again. But I don’t have friends much anymore. Things have been a little tough since the whole… incident.”

“Suit yourself, kid" I said, vanishing into the air.

“Oh well I guess I could stop by now that you mention it, ok thanks, see you and your wife tonight at 8??”

Damn, I thought. My body had left that realm, but his words followed me. I guess it wouldn’t be the worst date I had in my life! I thought (man I gotta write these zingers down). “See you then, Death” I whispered, my voice going all ethereal. “See you then.”

I woke up in the ground, soil trickling onto a cheap coffin the cops had stuffed me in. Weeping, some folks were throwing handfulls of dirt into the hole where I was lying. I didn’t recognise them, I think they just wanted a day out at the graves. I bust through the lid of that thing like it was cardboard, and climbed out. “Come on guys” I said, pushing off the coffin lid. “You gotta throw more dirt on than that, I haven’t got all day. If you give me a shovel I’ll get it done much faster.” And I did. And when I was done filling my own grave, I walked home, knocked on my door, and was met by my beautiful Angie. “Boy, did I miss you” I said, shaking her hand in a friendly manner.

“You have soap in your hair” she said.

“I know. And soil in my shoes babe, it’s a weird combination. But there’s also love in my heart. And if you’ll have me, I am ready for UNO. Speaking of which, I may have invited a friend along…”

So there you have it. That’s how me and my wife Angie got ourselves a weekly dinner date with Death, of underworld fame. And you know what? It’s a lot of fun having him round. It can be hard to make friends as a couple, and he’s a good guy. Even though I sometimes worry a little too much about our fate beyond this lifetime, every time I hear that screechin’ bone-train a-comin’, I smile knowing it will all be ok. In fact, I think I hear it coming now…

…ok never mind, it was just my wife screamin’ at me again.

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phoxphyre · 4 years

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10 Writing Questions Tag Game

Thank you @sbazzing and @vkelleyart for the tag! I’m loving reading everyone else’s answers.

1. What’s your favorite genre to write?

Historical fantasy--I get really hooked on the research. I fell in love with history in school and then majored in Classics in college and have just...never emerged. I thought that might be different for fanfiction, but given that I’m now knee-deep in a regency AU...um, I guess not.

For fanfiction, mostly AUs so far. I love canon desperately, but I think I’m too new to fanfiction to have developed the knack for finding “gaps” to fill with fic. Maybe it will come?

2. Do you pull inspiration from real life, or do you pull things from other books/fan fiction you’ve read?

All of the above? The emotions are definitely drawn directly from my own experience, and my characters tend to have a lot of bits and pieces of myself and other people I know in real life. It’s hard for me to write something that feels “true” without putting myself into it. But the situations are all fantasy!

I saw a great interview with Lin-Manuel Miranda (one of my personal heroes) where he said that he has a lot of browser tabs open in his brain all the time. That rang true to me. I can only hope that I’m mashing all of those influences into something that feels new. In fanfiction in particular I’m still learning the norms around how much it’s okay to borrow from/be inspired by other people’s fics.

3. Do you tend to write one-shots, short stories, or longer things?

Hahahahaha. *snort* I’m constitutionally unable to write short things. I was that person in school who had to cut literally pages from my papers, and then shrink the font size and narrow the margins. Even my short stories turn into novellas. My novellas turn into epics. My epics turn into...well, see answer 8 below.

4) Do you prefer to write description or dialogue?

Dialogue! Internal monologue, too. Descriptions are harder for me and I end up having to go back and fill them in after the fact.

One thing I love about writing for CO (versus my novel, which is based in a fantasy version of ancient Asia Minor) is that I get to write modern dialogue. Lord, how I have missed snappy dialogue.

But then of course I have to go write a regency AU. Apparently I live to suffer.

5) Favorite fic/book of all time?

Oh wow, it’s a long list. I reread a lot and there are a whole pile of books that are old friends at this point. Off the top of my head?

Carry On and Wayward Son, obviously!

The Prydain Chronicles

The Blue Sword (and a lot of other Robin McKinley books)

Possession

Kushiel’s Dart

Tigana

Clockwork Angel

The Aubrey and Maturin books

The King Must Die

Daughter of Smoke and Bone

In Other Lands

I could go on...and on...

For fanfic: I’m new to the CO fandom and I’m still working my way through...well, pretty much everything! It’s a joy to read all of this for the first time.

It’s way too hard to pick one favorite, but I have a special place in my heart for @vkelleyart‘s Light a Match Inside Your Heart, which is the first fic I ever read and pretty much the direct reason I’m here now.

6) Favorite Trope?

Slow burn? Does that count? I have a soft spot for “romantic leads trapped in a conveniently private cave in the middle of a dangerous adventure.” Also time travel...I have grave doubts about being to pull it off myself, but it’s my favorite thing in the world when other people do it well. Looking at you, @sharkmartini.

7) Are you the kind of person to work on more than one wip?

Three months ago I would have said I’m a strict one-project-at-a-time person, but fandom is already totally ruining that master plan! I have 2 Snowbaz WIPs plus my (sadly neglected) novel, and another fic poking around the edges of my brain. Two months ago I was worried that I would never have fic ideas. Whoops.

I usually only actively write one thing at a time, though, partially because I don’t have time to do more, partially because I like to immerse myself in one story at a time, and partially because if I jump around too much I never finish anything (ask me how I know!). I usually only read one book at a time, too.

8) How long have you been writing?

I’ve wanted to be a novelist for almost as long as I can remember. I wrote novels all through middle and high school, including an epic work called “Battle Maiden,” which I still have and which included the immortal line, “Why didst thou not tell me it was thy first time?”

I’ve been working on my current novel off and on for almost 20 years (work, parenting and the rest of real life keeps getting in the way, but I love the story and characters). I’m on my third discrete draft and have high hopes for this one. I’ve been in the same writer’s group for years (which, fun fact, now includes two published novelists) and I’ve done something like 10 NaNoWriMos, mostly drafts of my novel but some other stuff for fun. Oh, and I write poetry in fits and bursts, but I almost never show it to anyone.

I don’t think fanfiction existed when I was in school (the Web wasn’t a Thing until I was in college), but I wish it had. I’m pretty sure I would have gone deep.

9) Do you tend to write more in the morning, afternoon, or evening?

Morning! I like to get up at 5am before anyone else is up and write over way too many cups of coffee. But with two young kids I’m trying to learn to snatch writing time where i can.

10) Do you prefer to post and update your wip chapter by chapter or wait until it’s 100% complete before sharing it?

In theory, there are a lot of advantages to writing the whole thing first. In practice, I need the validation of posting as I go. I have my eternal novel for writing long internally consistent things that no one ever sees! I had a bad experience in a writing class in college and went for almost 20 years without showing anything to anyone, so I’m trying to unlearn that. Fandom is a way for me to practice sharing with other writers and artists. I’m so happy to have found you all!

I’m so late to this that I feel like everyone has been tagged already. Trying to think of whose I haven’t seen yet. @sharkmartini? @krisrix? @warriorbeeofthesea? @knitbelove?

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jennifersylvesters · 5 years

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birthday wishes

pairing: spider-man x fem!reader (?) word count: ~4.2k warnings: none A/N: this has literally been sitting in my drafts for about a year or so? i decided when i made this blog / wrote this fic that i would release it on august 10th. fun fact: mcu peter parker and i share a birthday which inspired this. hope you enjoy reading!

There wasn’t much you wanted for your birthday except one thing. One simple thing really. No material gifts compared to what you hoped for most. Keep the fancy gadgets and nice clothes. All you wanted was to meet Spider-Man.

Except birthday wishes like these weren’t really simple, were they? Despite how simplistic it sounded, this was a huge deal. It was on par with asking Iron Man to fix your internet connection. Well, perhaps not so grand but quite unrealistic. No one could package up a hero and present them at a person’s door.

So perhaps your birthday wish was more complicated than it sounded. Still you didn’t want to give up complete hope. Not when you knew someone who actually knew Spider-Man. Not when you knew Peter Parker might help make your birthday dream come true.

You and Peter got along fairly well. Being lab partners helped you realize how nice he was. Though he was clearly the smartest kid in class, he never made you feel inferior about your abilities. The two of you were Facebook friends but that didn’t mean much. It was only a simple click to accept an online friendship; it was an entirely different thing to casually ask for a huge favor especially when it came to Spider-Man.

Despite Peter’s friendly nature, he clammed up when conversation turned to superheroes. He never engaged in Flash’s goading that there was no way he had met Spider-Man. Even in amicable conversations about favorite Avengers, he just shrugged and kept quiet. Everything about his Stark internship was kept private, and you wanted to respect his boundaries.

The connection between Peter and Spider-Man never would’ve crossed your mind if it hadn’t been for your friend, Tyler. He was the schemer who insisted you ask Peter about the hero. “C’mon! I’m sure Peter would help us! It’d be so cool to see Spider-Man at your party! Can you imagine? No one else could pull that off!”

You avoided asking your classmate - both out of shame and embarrassment - and the excuse of summer break helped immensely. You chalked it up to needing to speak with Peter in person for this sort of thing and that he’d be too busy with his own summer plans. That was until you ran into him and Ned at your favorite coffee shop.

Immersed in your book, you glanced up hearing a familiar voice call out your name. You looked up from your table, spotting Ned and Peter at the cream and sugar counter. Ned waved enthusiastically while Peter politely smiled.

A nudge in your shoulder prompted you to turn towards your friend. While you came to the cafe to work, Tyler was there to goof off under the pretense of “moral support”. “Perfect timing. Ask him” Tyler encouraged. Shaking your head, you ignored your friend’s suggestion. Instead you just smiled and waved at the two boys. “If you won’t do it, then I will.” The smile vanished as Tyler stood up and headed towards the pair. You followed him, begging for him to let it go knowing he would do what you wouldn’t.

“Hey! What’s up, guys?” Tyler greeted the duo, doing an intricate handshake with both of them. You stood slightly behind, marveling at how these boys could complex handshakes yet couldn’t remember basic math.

“Hey, Tyler. Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” Ned grinned before taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, Y/N is here trying to finish the summer reading while I’m enjoying this nice day and my Instagram feed.” You rolled your eyes as he nudged you with a laugh. “Personally, I think she needs to have more fun and excitement, don’t you?” The boys shrugged casually, unaware of Tyler’s plan. Your friend clapped his hand on your back, and you dreaded the next words to come out of his mouth.

“So...Peter. Y/N has something they want to ask you” Tyler began mischievously. You smacked his arm, but his plan was already in motion. You glanced at Peter who wore a confused yet curious expression. “In case you didn’t know, Y/N’s birthday party is coming up. You guys got the Facebook invite, right?” The boys nodded in unison. “Not sure if you know, but there’s only one thing she wants for her party. And she’s been wanting it for a while.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again. While you knew Tyler could be dramatic, he was taking this to the next level.

“There’s only one person she really wants to see for her birthday. And she thinks they’re totally cool and amazing...And it’s Spider-Man!” At Tyler’s words, Peter froze up as his mouth dropped open in surprise. “You know him, right?”

Despite his open mouth, nothing came out from Peter. Ned nervously glanced at his best friend before turning to you, back to Peter, and then to Tyler who seemed unfazed by Peter’s shock. Ned shook Peter gently, which seemed to break him out of his thoughts.

“I, uh...I guess I know him?” Peter managed to finally stammer out. Ned began looking around, avoiding eye contact with you and Tyler.

“Right! And we were hoping you could make Y/N’s birthday by having him swing in.”

You elbowed Tyler at this. He made it sound like you wanted Spider-Man to just stop by briefly for an appearance and then leave once photos were taken. That wasn’t the birthday wish you had in mind. But you knew it was difficult enough to even get in contact with the hero that you kept quiet at your friend’s plan.

“I, er...I don’t know? I don’t see him that often, you know? You know how it is...Spider-Man. He’s...Busy...A busy guy...Man. Guy man.” Peter looked uncomfortable with the whole situation, his hands fidgeting as he bounced slightly. Either Tyler was blind or he really wanted Spider-Man at your party.

“And that’s why Y/N was hoping you’d help her out. Dude, you gotta admit it’d be dope seeing him there!”

Peter nervously glanced at you. During this whole ordeal you kept quiet letting Tyler lead the conversation. His look seemed to ask your opinion, wanting you to say something.

“I mean, I know it’s probably crazy” you admitted slowly, feeling the blush spread on your face. “But that would be really awesome if you could do it, Peter.” Everything about this scenario was a long shot. You braced yourself for the rejection. Instead Peter’s answer surprised you.

“I’ll ask him.” Ned’s eyes widened, almost dropping his cup.

“Really?” You and Tyler asked at the same time. Peter nodded tensely. Tyler whooped while a smile spread on your face.

“I mean, he might say no. But I can ask him” Peter added, but neither of you cared. It was one step closer to Spider-Man that you wouldn’t have accomplished without his help.

“We’ll take that. You’re awesome, man!” Tyler beamed as the two of them exchanged in another handshake. The tension hadn’t lifted from Peter’s expression, but he managed to force a smile.

With your excitement at an all time high, you couldn’t help but throw your arms around Peter. Though initially startled, he hugged you back.

“Thanks! I mean it. You have no idea what this means to me. You’d be my hero” you gushed before pulling away.

“In more ways than one” Ned whispered so that only Peter could hear. His face turned red from the comment, but you and Tyler were too busy freaking out to notice.

Within mere days everyone began asking if Spider-Man really was showing up to your party. No surprise Tyler’s big mouth was to blame. It was difficult to respond since you genuinely didn’t know. The last thing you wanted to do was get anyone’s hopes up, especially your own. You hadn’t gotten any confirmation about Spider-Man, and you were beginning to wonder if you ever would.

There hadn’t been any updates from Peter that you wondered if he only said he would ask to get Tyler off his back. You knew how persistent your friend could be that it wouldn’t be surprising if Peter lied to him. Yet that attitude didn’t seem like Peter.

Drumming your fingers on your favorite sofa chair, you wondered if you should message Peter. You didn’t want to bother him, but everyone had been pestering you for a definite answer. Turned out you didn’t need to message him as he walked into the cafe.

While you were nervous about his response, you decided to bite the bullet. Once he grabbed his drink from the bar, you rushed over. “Hey there” you greeted him from behind. Peter, clearly unaware of your presence, yelped and spilled his iced coffee.

You winced at his reaction. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

He placed the cup down, grabbing napkins. “It’s fine.” You grabbed a couple napkins as well, offering them his way. The boy shot you a grateful smile.

“So how are things? I mean, besides this spill.” You chuckled nervously as you watched him dab the coffee on his shirt. Maybe you shouldn’t have approached him until he finished capping his coffee. “I can get you another cup if you want” you offered but he shook his head.

“Really, it’s totally fine” he insisted. Tossing the used napkins in the garbage, he surveyed the mess. It wasn’t too bad with his dark shirt, but it was definitely still damp. Peter let out a sigh, before dabbing napkins on his shirt once more.

As you watched him, guilt washed over you. Not just for the coffee spill but for putting Peter in a weird position. The two of you weren’t close so he wasn’t obligated to help you out. Yet you and Tyler used Peter’s kind nature to your advantage. Something about that felt, well, selfish. You didn’t want to use him this way, not even if that meant meeting Spider-Man.

“I’m sorry about me and Tyler” you burst out. “He, well, we shouldn’t have done that.” Peter glanced up from his shirt at your apology. He looked like he wanted to say something, but you continued.

“I mean, he knows it’s the only thing I want for my birthday this year. And I just wanna meet Spider-Man so bad. He shouldn’t have involved you though. I know you don’t really like talking about that stuff. I think we were just getting desperate about the whole thing, y’know? We shouldn’t have done that. I’m really sorry again!” When you finished, you took a deep breath. It hadn’t been your intention to apologize, but the words rushed out.

“Y/N, it’s fine. Really.” You opened your mouth to apologize again, but stopped when he waved his hand. “I mean it. You don’t have to apologize.”

Peter glanced away, staring down at his shirt before looking at the counter. He looked so lost in thought, fighting certain ideas in his head. You weren’t sure what to make of the situation.

“Peter, are you-”

“He’ll be there” he cut you off as he finally looked up.

“Huh?”

“Spider-Man. He’ll be at your party. Sorry, I...I should’ve told you sooner.”

“Really?!” It was hard for you to contain your surprise and excitement.

“Yeah. I, uh, talked to Spider-man, and he said he’d definitely swing by.” You squealed happily before jumping up and down. Spider-Man was going to be at your party. You were finally going to meet him. Your birthday wish was coming true.

You stopped jumping upon feeling people’s stares before gently holding Peter’s forearm.

“Thanks. I mean it. And, hey, you’re coming too, right?” you asked. As excited as you were for Spider-Man, you wanted Peter to be there as well.

Peter scratched the back of his neck. “I dunno. My Aunt May kinda has this...Well, it’s this thing. Don’t know if I can miss it.

“Oh.” You heard the disappointment in your voice. “Well, you should definitely stop by if you can. I think it’ll be a lot of fun!” Pulling Peter into a hug, you rested your head on him. “Peter, thank you so much!” You felt his breath in your hair as he told you not to mention it. You knew that you wouldn’t forget this favor ever.

You waited for Spider-Man to show up. In fact, everyone who came showed up excited to see the masked superhero. No one cared about the cake or music when he’d be swinging in soon.

After an hour, you had a sinking feeling that something was amiss. Someone turned on the news to see if Spider-Man was busy saving the city. Nothing. Someone commented he might be in space. But it didn’t make sense for him to be there when he said he’d be in New York. When he’d be at your birthday party.

Two hours later, it was clear Spider-Man was a no show. Your heart sank knowing he wouldn’t be coming. You had been so excited, so ready. You wore your favorite outfit, thinking it might even impress him. But now there was no one to impress.

While no one said it to your face, you overheard some party goers grumbling about the false promise of Spider-Man. You weren’t sure which stung more: their comments or the truth that Spider-Man wasn’t there.

You tried to have a good time despite everything. No one brought up Spider-Man to you, afraid that you might cry at the mention. No one wants to see the birthday girl sobbing on her special day.

Eventually people left when it got late. They wished you a happy birthday, telling you they had fun. Whether or not that was the truth, you had absolutely no clue. But you knew they hadn’t been as miserable as you. Tyler was the last to leave, hugging you tightly and insisting your birthday party had been amazing.

As you stood in your backyard, you sighed at all the food left on the table. People ate most of it but a couple slices of cake and an array of cupcakes remained. You began slowly cleaning, wondering where Spider-Man could’ve been that day.

“Hey there.” You screamed, frightened by the surprise voice. Turning around, you gasped. There he was. Spider-Man, shifting awkwardly between poses, stood on the other side of the yard. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” Clutching your chest, you tried to relax your heart rate after being almost scared to death.

“Y-You’re Spider-Man” you stammered out, taking in the sight of the super hero.

He cleared his throat before nodding. “Yup. That’s me. Spider-Man.” His voice was considerably deeper than before as if he was trying to conceal himself.

“You’re really here.” Even as he stood in front of you, it was hard to believe that the masked hero was really in your backyard.

“I am.” He nodded again. “I just...Wanted to apologize for not showing up sooner.” Spider-Man was standing in front of you apologizing. That definitely didn’t happen every day.

“It’s...It’s fine.”

“If it makes you feel better, I, uh, wasn’t hanging out with Peter either. I was just...busy.” You wondered what he was busy with before realizing it wasn’t your business. Even if he wasn’t on television, it didn’t mean he wasn’t doing other superhero tasks.

“Ah, yeah. Saving the world. You know - the usual.”

He laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile. You managed to make Spider-Man laugh. How many people could say that? “Yeah, the usual.” He paused, before scratching the top of his head. “I figured I should at least stop by and say happy birthday since it’s a pretty special day.”

“It’s midnight” you mumbled. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but you wanted to get it off your chest.

He turned his head to the side, almost as to stare at you quizzically. “It’s midnight” you repeated, voice slightly louder. “It’s just...It’s not my birthday anymore. It’s the day after.” You felt like a spoiled child, whining to someone who saved people. He wasn’t some entertainer who could show up whenever. Still, the emotions of how rotten you felt during your party bubbled to the surface.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Y/N." He reached out before pulling back, seeming nervous to touch you. That you might lash out. That you might yank away from his grasp. That you might fall apart.

"Don’t...Don’t worry about it" you attempted to brush off your slight bitterness and sadness towards the situation. At this point, there was nothing you or the superhero could do. Not like either of you could turn back time like Doctor Strange.

“But I made a promise. I should’ve kept it.” All you could do was shrug.

This wasn’t how you envisioned meeting Spider-Man. In fact, you assumed you’d be shrieking about his presence. Yet you felt strangely calm around him, like you could say what you wanted. Maybe that’s why you pointed out it was no longer your birthday.

“This looks like it was amazing though” he insisted as he gestured to the backyard. It did look great. You spent the day getting everything into place, hoping to impress the superhero. Twinkling lights were strung around neatly with balloons tied up. As he pointed out how great the details were, you blushed.

“I mean, look at this. Cupcakes and a cake? That’s-Well that’s really impressive!” Unable to stop yourself, you laughed at his comment. He took one of the cupcakes, peering at the decoration placed on top. "Happy birthday Y/N...And Peter?" he read off slowly.

"Oh. Yeah. It was Peter's birthday, too. Did he not tell you?" You assumed if Peter was close enough to Spider-Man, his heroic friend would know that detail.

"I mean, I knew. But I didn't know that you knew...His birthday. I didn't know that you knew about that" he stammered out.

"Yeah. Found out freshman year. Plus it’s on his Facebook profile. I figured after his party, he might drop by mine with you" you shrugged, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible.

“I-He never said he was having a party.”

“Huh?” you asked, face scrunching up in confusion by his comment.

“Well, Peter said he didn’t tell you he was having a party. He figured...You might feel bad if you knew.”

“Not sure why he’d feel bad. It’s his birthday too. Or, well, was. If he’s celebrating his own way, who am I to stop that?”

"Oh." Spider-Man stood still before falling into a nearby seat. “Huh.”

“Are you okay?” He seemed a bit off by your admission. Was it something you said? Was it something you did? Or maybe he was just parched from crime fighting?

“No...Yes! I mean, yeah. I’m fine!” He waved his hand, assuring you he was alright.

A silence fell over the backyard as the two of you nervously stared at the ground.

“I just wanted you to know...” you started, trying to figure out how to phrase your words properly. This was why you wanted to meet him so badly, why you wanted him for your birthday. You wanted to express yourself properly.

“Yeah?” You looked up to see Spider-Man looking at you. Even with the mask, you could feel his gaze on your face.

“Um, I just wanted to thank you. I know you probably don’t remember, but you saved my dog a couple months back. And before then, you helped out one of my neighbors. You’re just...You’re this amazing person and I just think you’re awesome for everything you do. It just...It really means a lot.” You let out a breath, your face heating up.

He didn’t say anything, just gazed back down. You copied his action, hoping he would break the stillness hanging in the air.

“Ah, well, it was nothing. Just doin’ my job” he finally concluded.

“Well, it wasn’t just nothing to me.” You weren’t sure how he could just disregard how amazing he was. Putting his life on the line to help others wasn’t easy yet he did it every day. It was comforting to know someone was looking out for the community. Looking out for you.

You weren’t sure if it was the rush of the emotions or just plain rashness, but you walked over to where he sat. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you leaned over and kissed his cheek. As you pulled away, you realized how insane this was. You had just kissed Spider-Man. Your eyes widened and you stepped back.

He placed his hand where you kissed his masked face.

“Just a way of showing my thanks” you explained, your face heating up. Oh. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

“Oh. Okay.” He seemed dumbfounded, like he was still trying to process what just occurred. “That’s a...That’s nice. Or, well, that was nice. Nice thing.” The corners of your mouth tugged up as he began babbling about the kiss.

“I should go. It’s getting pretty late so...” He stood up and stumbled back before rubbing the back of his head and chuckling. The sound made you smile and giggle. He gave you a thumbs up, which made you giggle harder.

He wished you a good night and one final happy birthday before swinging away from your backyard. The smile on your face lingered as you buried your face in your hands The moment hadn’t been what you expected, but it was everything to you.

As summer winded to an end, you couldn’t help but repeat the moment in your mind. You scrutinized about every detail. Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed out it was midnight. You should’ve offered him cupcakes to take home. Was he alright with you kissing him even if it was on the cheek? Or did he think you were some huge weirdo who couldn’t even thank a person normally? But he seemed to have liked it? Maybe even enjoyed it?

These constant thoughts bombarded your mind. In fact you had been at your favorite cafe shop for an hour and still hadn’t progressed with your book reports.

A gentle tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking up, you saw Peter standing next to you gently rocking on the balls of his feet. You smiled at your classmate who clutched his drink tighter.

“Hey, Peter. What’s up?”

“Hey, Y/N. Uh, nothing much. Nothing much.” Despite his attempt to act casual, his words rushed together and could barely make eye contact with you.

“So...” you started, hoping he would say something.

“So...” he mirrored you, still avoiding your gaze.

“Well, happy belated birthday.” You studied him carefully, how his ears turned pink before he nodded rapidly.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. You too.”

“Thanks.” Usually conversation with Peter was fairly easygoing yet this one was like pulling teeth.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your party” he finally spoke, an apologetic look on his face when he made eye contact.

“Hey, it’s no biggie.” You waved off his apology. Since it was his birthday too, he had no obligation to attend your party. You didn’t hold it against him, not when he helped deliver one of the best gifts of all time.

“I mean, I should’ve shown up” he insisted. “I heard it was nice.”

“Well, if a couple complaints about Spider-Man not showing up is nice, then I guess it was.” Seeing panic in his face, you quickly continued. “But he showed up in the end. It was after the party, but I’m just glad he came at all.” Thoughts of Spider-Man flooded back that you couldn’t help but blush.

“Yeah...He said you were really cool” Tom casually mentioned despite his face reddening.

“Really?” You perked up at this news before realizing how excited you sounded. Was that too desperate?

“Yeah, he said...He said you were really awesome. And he apologized for showing up late.” You glanced down, smiling to yourself. You were glad to know that you left a good impression with him.

“It was the best gift I received.” Thinking about how you kissed Spider-Man’s cheek, you wondered what it would be like to kiss the man behind the mask. How the hero might kiss you.

“If that was the only time I’ll get to ever talk to Spider-Man” - you paused, letting your words sink in before continuing- “then I don’t care about his timing. I’m just happy that he showed up.”

“You’ll see him around again.” Peter sounded confident in his words. You smiled sadly knowing that it was true. But you wanted to see him the same way you saw him that night. You wanted that personal moment, not just a brief stint shared with other New Yorkers.

“Probably not as close as before though. And I’d hate it if we only met again because I was being robbed or something” you laughed.

“I mean, you never know. He’s always around the neighborhood. Probably, uh, closer than you think.” There was something in Peter’s tone, encouragement not to give up hope. And you wanted nothing more than to take it.

“Maybe you’re right.” You and Peter shared a smile before he cleared his throat and looked away. It escaped your notice that his cheeks were tinged pink.

“Well, uh, just wanted to say hi. And happy belated birthday. That too, yeah” Peter fumbled out as he raised his iced coffee up and then took a sip. You wished him a happy belated birthday again and he grinned widely.

“See you at Midtown Tech next week.” He bobbed his head repeatedly before giving you a wave and heading out. As you began working on your revisions, you had no idea how right Peter was about Spider-Man’s presence.

tags list: @sleepybesson, @sophiatomlinson23, @supernatural-girl97, @tomhaz

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piffyocs · 4 years

Text

Completely slipped my mind earlier and mobile isn’t letting me edit, so new post about biases and default attitudes Legs brings with her when interacting with characters she’s met the Tartarusverse alternates of. Things of course can and will change based on interactions and circumstances! This is just where she’s going to start out.

Celestia: Legs is trying her best to not let her experience with Daybreaker sour her interactions with Celestia. In practice, Celestia’s presence is a low-key trigger, but Legs will attempt to tough it out until courtesy allows her to excuse herself.

Luna: Legs has a complicated but mutually respectful relationship with her world’s version of Luna, and that respect tends to carry over.

Cadence: Due to political baggage re: Daybreaker’s assassination, Legs has only ever interacted with her world’s Cadence by correspondence. It’s just not safe for Legs to go to anywhere in the Empire or for Empress Cadence to leave it. Even so, much of their correspondence is of a collaborative nature, and, without the unacceptable risk to them both looming over her head, she finds Cadence the most approachable princess.

Twilight: Hoo boy. So, Twilight’s Tartarusverse alternate, Midnight, was the main villain of Tartarus 2. I need to make an edited version of Legs’s reference art to reflect the scars Legs has from Midnight’s army’s attempt on her life. Due to Tartarusverse!Midnight’s extremely genocidal-towards-nonponies actions, Twilight’s School of Friendship freaks Legs the buck out. I know that MLP canon has given Equestria some kind of cultural monopoly on navigating prosocial behavior, diegetically justifying Friendship Evangelism and a multispecies School Six, but A) that’s Unfortunate Implications Town. B) The reason that’s Unfortunate Implications Town is rooted in the fact that having kids from foreign cultures you find lacking leave their families to live at a school so that they’ll learn and take on the deemed-superior-by-you values of your culture is uh... well you see we have a historical precedent for that.

I (Piffy, the writer) am not gonna pretend that canon’s diegetic justifications for the Friendship School don’t twist my stomach all the way over on my side of the fourth wall. On her side of the wall, Legs is gonna call a spade a spade here: The Friendship School, as presented in canon, is an indoctrination center. Her brood will not attend and she’s offended by the invitation. She does not trust Twilight Sparkle.

Daybreaker or Midnight Sparkle: Legs does not want to start plotting anyone’s death. Either one of these two is enough to make her seriously consider the option.

Nightmare Moon: Legs is Very. Careful. When it comes to Nightmare Moon. The version she knew was very powerful and consumed by revenge.

Rest of the Mane Six: Legs never actually met their counterparts, although she recognizes Rainbow Dash’s name. Tartarusverse Rainbow Dash led a sizable chunk of Midnight Sparkle’s invasion force during the war.

School Six, CMC, Spike, and other students: She doesn’t know these kids. She’s not going to get confrontational with any of them, but also isn’t going to lie about her feelings if they ask. She might have a few stories to tell about different kinds of creatures and cultures she’s encountered and how they learned to coexist.

Starlight Glimmer and Sunburst: Legs will be, first of all, surprised. These two’s Tartarite counterparts have passed on from old age, but were highly-respected academics in life.

Sunset Shimmer: Tartarite!Shimmer came to a tragic end, and Legs is concerned on principle for this one’s mental health. Sorry Sunny, but if Legs has any say in it, no summoning demonic forces you have greatly overestimated your ability to control for you.

Starswirl: Also younger and more alive than she expected him to be! She’s glad to see that he isn’t as plagued by paranoia as his counterpart.

Thorax: Legs only ever met her world’s Thorax once. It was enough to confirm that Chrysalis’s regular seething through Legs’s childhood about how awful he is was largely exaggerated. They parted on respectful terms, but haven’t stayed in touch. Tartarusverse!Thorax and Legs carry comparably heavy burdens of trauma, guilt, and shame, and the fact they were stuck on opposite sides of a war was too hard on both of them. Legs is relieved that MLPverse!Thorax has been spared that, and will probably grow pretty protective of him.

Pharynx: Legs has never met her world’s Pharynx, but is aware of him and respects that he didn’t want to meet her. She treads carefully around his counterpart out of being unsure what his boundaries are and not wanting to overstep, not out of distrust.

Tempest Shadow: Legs is keenly aware that she is speaking to an alternate of somepony she loves, and she‘s going try to hide how awkward she feels about this. After all, how could she explain that without revealing that she’s from an alternate universe?

Sombra: Tartarusverse!Sombra spent his thousand years getting his shit together, goes by the title Archmage, and--while still terrifying and literally a demon lord now--he’s a reclusive antihero. He’s also sorta-kinda her brother-in-law if you use “in-law” very loosely, so Legs is going to find any straight-up villain Sombra very jarring. Simultaneously, she’ll probably find a Sombra who’s a pure mage build slightly underwhelming on first impression. The one she knows quadruple-wields broadswords (one with his mouth, three with telekinesis), and the three hovering swords are venomous.

EDIT: Meant to save this as a draft. Whoops. I’ll reblog it when it’s done.)

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