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seeingteacupsindragons · 5 months

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Um hi!! Aspiring writer here I just wanted to ask if you had any tips on actually getting down what you want your story to be about and forming a general framework for the plot and events?

I have so so many ideas but they stay ideas because I have no clue how to go from there?

Thank you thank you if you do decide to answer and apologies if im bothering you or its a bad time but I think you’re writings very neat and conveys emotions and characters very well so i wanted your input!

Hi! Thank you for compliments, etc. I appreciate that a lot, and emotion and character are really what I think I’m best at.

Structure (framework) and plot are…well, not, but I’ve been working really hard at getting better at these things lately, so I’ll see if I can’t come up with something to give you a hand.

Generally, my writing starts with a story “seed.” This is basically a character and a concept. They look something like “modern fairy tale with an aro ace witch protagonist” (actual story I have written) or, like, “teenage boy finds himself magically bound to a wizard and forced to obey him” (other actual story).

Sometimes this seed is from a prompt or something floating around in my head as a good idea. Sometimes this seed is from the first couple random paragraphs of something I wrote just to write something—it’s hard to write a couple of solid paragraphs without A Character in A Situation.

So for that first story seed, the first couple paragraphs of “modern fairy tale with the aro ace witch” I started with “witch protagonist hanging out on a broom and contemplating a couple and wondering how he could play the role of a fairy tale witch about them.” Because…I don’t know, that was just the first stuff I typed, and it seemed fun to have a witch actually intentionally playing their role in fairy tales?

And then I just keep spinning the Scenario for a while, making stuff up as a I go along. Okay, he’s on a broom above the sky, what if he also has a familiar, what is the familiar saying, what kind of ideas is the protagonist having, how does he even know these people, etc., etc., etc.

And then once I have enough building blocks of just playing improve on a seed for a bit, I take a look at what’s there and what I can do with it. Switching stories here, basically, I have things like, “Oh, only the teenagers are doing anything to fight back against the magical disasters destroying their city…this sounds like a climate change metaphor.” Or, “Hmmm, I have this situation where the characters’ own passions are negatively affecting them…sounds like they have an unhealthy relationship with art/work/etc.” Sometimes this happens mid-first draft. Sometimes this happens after I have a full draft that was created entirely on playing “yes and” with a scenario.

Once I’ve identified these bits and pieces that seem like they’re threaded into the story in multiple places and what’s standing out to me as prominent in the story, it’s time to make sure everyone else sees them. Plot points that are distracting or don’t contribute to a thread get cut. New ones get added to say something else about the topic, or changed to really emphasize a point I want to make or to clarify what was happening, or to sew various story parts together.

In the book I’m writing at the moment, the first draft had this plot arc about a secret underground coven that like, worshiped the main character’s people. It got cut, because while I thought I was going to say a lot about putting people on pillars and how it’s unhealthy, I didn’t really have anywhere for that thread to go, it was kind of messy and weird, and a lot of stuff I wanted to do worked better when I shifted it to focus more on the main character learning to work with people who were resistant to him and bolstering another character and incorporating their opinions into the Discussion—and also I had some idea of where to go with the latter and not the former.

Let’s take a story seed is about the second daughter of a royal family becoming queen, because I haven’t written this story, dangit.

There’s not really any plot points in that seed. Maybe one way toward the end of the book!

So you need to add some more stuff to get it going. Let’s open with her hanging out with her best friend who’s the first son of an Earl.

Now we have a lot. We have plot points about whatever they’re talking about or doing while hanging out—what activities they like to do, or what’s going around them. And, I’ve got a ready-made juxtaposition in there for their succession stories and how they happen and the challenges they face and the story is now about, idk, coming into power or coming into responsibility, or growing up, or facing expectations and what you do about them. And I can use all of that stuff from the first sentence of the paragraph to emphasize those bits.

If they’re about coming into responsibility, you get to write plot points where the two discover all the things their ancestors have been managed silently and behind the scenes (how are they told this? Are they also managing things silently? Like what?). If it’s about what you’re going to do with power, you add in a plot line about them discovering how their parents failed (how do they discover it—is it something they mentioned doing or were seen doing?).

Each of those subplots (and if you’re writing about growing into responsibility, there’s a lot of different ways that manifest and each can have its own subplot branch) branches out into more and more ideas and things you can do to emphasize each point and say what you want to say about whatever the plot/theme is.

I don’t know where you are in your ideas you can’t write down—if you just have a seed, or you have a seed and one theme/point/thing you want to write about and don’t know how to actually branch that into plot points. I think you’re at the latter. So what I say here is: the plot points you pick/choose/write are the ones that seem like they’re going to give you something to say about it and contribute to what you want to say.

If you want to write about growing into power, maybe you don’t need that plot point about our princess sneaking out to hang out with the Enemy, but you do need a scene where she teaches her younger sisters. Hanging out with the Enemy might fit better in a story where she’s learning how to heal political rifts. If the story you’re writing is about both, cool! You can figure out a way to have one or two of those scene do double duty as both and then keep both scenes. Maybe you don’t need a scene where she learns how to handle a sword in favor of a ball where she’s introduced as the heir apparent.

And then there’s…well…how things get resolved says a lot about the topic, you know? If you have a character with an abusive mom, and at the end she forgives her mother, that Says Something Different than if she cuts dies with her mom. And what is says depends on a lot of details, of course, but it’s really important to keep in mind that how the story ends really is your final statement on the matter.

I…hope this helped? I think I answered your question anyway. This is about where I’m at with my writing and how I’m trying to make it work, anyway.

#writing #writing advice

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windowsandfeelings · 2 years

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18, 19, and 25 for the writer’s ask please!

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

She wakes up warm. Cozy.

He’s drifted to her side of the bed in the night, the way he does, and wrapped himself around her. She’s not so much the little spoon as silverware tucked into a fancy folded napkin. But it’s comfortable. She sinks into it, barely awake at all. She thinks she could stay here forever, drifting in and out of sleep. Until where she is, when she is, clicks into place in her consciousness.

“Elephant!” she pulls herself from Jess’s arms, nearly bolts out of the bed, across the room. “Elephant! Elephant!”

“Wh—Ro—what’s…what’s going on?” He’s not awake yet, not really. She watches as he rubs sleep from his eyes. His hair is sticking up all over, just the way it did back in high school when he styled it that way intentionally. But this isn’t high school.

This is Philadelphia. Maybe 2011? (Yes, the chair they bought at that second hand place in New Hope, the one they put in the corner and then piled with clothing for six months instead of ever actually reading in it, is nowhere to be seen. Definitely 2011.)

OK so this is the beginning of Met You at the Right Time chapter 5.

When I started writing the story I absolutely did not know that Rory and Jess had been together during the ~lost years~. The idea for the fic started when I was rewatching Nick & Nora/Sid & Nancy last fall and thought "what would have happened if Rory had bailed with Jess?" (Which @rorygilmoregf brilliantly explored recently!) I think that then turned into "what if Rory had a chance to do it over again?" and then the basic premise started to come together.

I don't remember exactly how I reached the idea that they'd been together between season 7 and AYITL, but when I did it it felt like a missing puzzle piece for the story (that and the realization that whatever Rory changed shouldn't have any sort of lasting affect on the story—once I knew that the central message was going to be "you can't change the past, you have to take the present and go from there" I unlocked so much about Rory's character/journey).

And then I had the image of Rory waking up in Jess's arms, realizing where she was, and yelling "elephant!" at him, and I was so so so so impatient to actually write it. It sat in the chapter 5 section of my google doc, all by itself, for a long time until I could really dig into it. I think that image was actually what prompted the idea of them having a time-travel code word (and the code word was going to be "eggplant" until the emoji thing came to me).

As far as how it changed...the only specific thing I remember is that the metaphor in the first paragraph was originally something about being chopsticks in a sleeve. I changed it to silverware because I thought it fit better with the little spoon/big spoon thing, and the specific image of being "enveloped" that I was trying to convey. Also, figuring out how to write it to accurately convey: a) what was happening, b) when it was, and c) that it wasn't something that had changed, just something we didn't already know about, was tricky. Hence the bit about the New Hope chair (and, a few paragraphs later, the Shins t-shirt).

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

I feel like I've been writing forever. I know I wrote my first poem when I was 7 (it was about love at first sight, and yes, I can still recite it), and I started writing stories around the same time, but I learned about fic when I was 13, and after that my writing was kind of compulsive and constant for a long time.

I got a creative writing minor in college (and picked my school because they had the largest undergrad writing prize in the country...which I did not win). After college, and especially when I got my first office job, I definitely slowed down a lot. I tried my hand at writing other things (criticism, mainly), but I wasn't really writing fiction (or poetry) anymore.

I started taking TV writing classes a few years ago, after I moved to LA (my not-so-secret heart's desire is to be a TV writer), and I was writing a lot up until Covid hit, but then I lost my motivation. I didn't really start writing anything again until I got the idea for MYatRT, and script writing is still on the back burner. It's not that I don't want to be a TV writer anymore, but my actual career has recently taken off in a new direction that I'm genuinely excited about (and not just for the big raise and fancy title that came with it), and I think as I've hit my mid-thirties some of my priorities for the next 5-10 years of my life have shifted. Trying to launch a completely new career (especially in such a hard-to-break-into field) just won't fit with the stuff that's more important to me right now.

BUT: I intend to keep writing in general. Fic, for sure. Maybe a novel, if I can find the right idea. Writing is never not going to be a part of my life.

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

Man, I am really struggling to answer this one (aside from my answer yesterday). I think a lot of what I know generally ends up in the story somewhere (or in multiple stories).

#writing ask meme #met you at the right time

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yuuana · 2 years

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Music Monday #214: ATEEZ - Paradigm release: November 2022 genre: Jpop cw: bright flashing throughout, potential seasickness warning

You know you've missed me and my Kpop nonsense. ;) November was too full of everything and then some, so sure, I have a backlog a mile high, but like I was going to wait on my boys.

This MV is pretty bad for anyone with photosensitivities, so if you just want to hear the song, here's a Spotify link or search on your preferred streaming platform. As a performance version, the video doesn't have the same level of lore clues as more story-driven MVs like Guerrilla or Turbulence, so if you can't watch it, it'll be fine. Theorytiny will be filling in gaps for awhile. ;) The thing with ATEEZ is when they say they're doing something new this next release, we know by now they mean it. Considering that first minute was in all the previews for the album, it wasn't really a surprise when Paradigm opens with that whistling. If Guerrilla was the mating of hard rock with EDM, Paradigm dropped the rock elements to play with blending EDM and lyrical pop elements. So if you're looking for dance-pop with post-apocalyptic pirate vibes, definitely consider adding this to your collection. As much as I'm actually an opponent of the whole "anything but even line distribution is unfair!" brigade and while Jongho definitely gets the most, the distribution feels a lot more even than some other title tracks (in the end, it isn't, but the only line distribution analysis I've seen so far counts seconds a little wonky, counting some "ad libs" but not others). If I didn't know odds were Edenary (of which Hongjoong and Mingi are both a part) initially wrote this no less than six months ago (and probably more like 8-10+), I'd be tempted to look at some of those lyrics and try to apply them to the ongoing BS with Vata/SMF. If this was written as a clapback, it was more likely in response to the previous BS between KQ/ATEEZ and Mnet. "Nobody can stop me"? "Even devils call me up, I don't cheat"? They know how often others have copied their homework. As for the video ... again, performance version means the focus is meant to be on the dance moves. Minimal sets and costumes designed to draw attention to the flares both help with this. The swooping camera moves, not so much, but then again also sort of yes? But the more I watch it, the more I'm wondering if any ATINY might be familiar with Japanese sign language? A lot of those hand/arm moves could just be flares to highlight the musical moment, but a few of them feel like they're intentionally saying something? But I barely know anything in ASL, so I'm not qualified to really go there. And now...the lore paragraph! As I said, this is a performance video, so the lore elements are fewer. Fewer but not none. Again, we're maybe peering at Z-teez, but which one (I still maintain that A and Z are clusters of parallel timelines)? Visually, this feels a lot like a part of the Deja Vu storyline, but there's so little here, it's hard to say, especially when the blue set also feels like a callback to the door we see opening in the Wonderland MV ... which is an A plot. A connection that's further supported by the art on the cover of the EP. A whole new world, a whole new paradigm. The A team walked through that door and after Wonderland came Answer, which could be anywhere (and any time), but shows A-teez (Pirateez) meeting Z-teez (aka Halateez) making their alliance as the end of Treasure era. Does this connection (Paradigm and Wonderland) mean we're back to rolling forward from "now" instead of still in flashbacks? Only time will tell. Of course that particular location has been used by a number of groups over the years, looking for that very same dystopian vibe, but my silly little fangirl brain can't help connecting it to the maze in EXO's Overdose. Because I have a sickness and the only cure is EXOTEEZ. XD The World Ep.Paradigm is out now on all streaming platforms and for physical sale wherever you buy Jpop releases. As an aside, given the year it's been, a part of my heart is grateful to see Mingi wearing the safety pin. Maybe I'm fooling myself, but with ATEEZ's history of vocal support for the LGBTQ+ community, I like to think that was a purposeful choice and not just a fashion statement. And it's Mingi, so it's probably both. Want to see Music Monday deep dives more often? Sponsor a song selection! For the low, low price of one (1) KoFi, I'll write up the song of your choice. ANY song of your choice. Yes, even that one that's been played to death. Yes, your obscure faves too. With sponsors, I can stop skipping weeks and falling further and further behind in the releases! Sponsor a current CB for the next open Music Monday slot or sponsor a throwback for a Thursday feature! But seriously, if you've been enjoying my selections and analyses, we (me and the foster kittens) would love a KoFi in thanks. DW | Twitter | Ko-fi | Patreon | Discord | Twitch

#music #music monday #kpop #jpop #ateez #jagu does a lore dive #and just confuses herself even more

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gothprentiss · 2 years

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Hello please give commentary on the boxing au cos it’s my favourite thanks

yes! so! this one is a bit of a wander down memory lane since i don’t have any of my drafting notes, as far as i can tell, but (at characteristically great length):

i know i definitely had wanted, for a while, to write some sort of boxing au. james ellroy is one of my favorite writers and the boxing rivalry part of the black dahlia is the part i remember the best— i thought it was really incredible characterization and also really dynamic writing. probably i started writing this fic around when i was thinking about a sotl fic too— probably the three driving impulses were a) working more intentionally with lit that was really formative for me, b) realizing i’d rather reread my fave books than rewatch criminal minds again (lol), c) i think martial arts are generally a hot look on women. but also i think of ellroy’s writing as very like, stylish and sparse in a way that’s perfect for crime writing, and i wanted to try that on. i don’t think i really did, in part because his prose stylings are remarkably first-person and i’m not that kind of writer, but it was fun to try.

as i’m reading it now, i find it kind of endearingly clumsy— i think there’s something definitely off about the focalization, and i’ve always found my prose style a bit ungainly. like in the first place it’s always trapped between two poles (academic writing, and underdeveloped creative writing), but here you add a third, which is ellroy, whose prose is zippy and fast and highly colloquial, and it’s just kind of frankensteiny. also this fic is too long. i remember reading it and being like it’s too long, but i wrote this whole damn boxing scene and felt obligated to sketch out multiple rounds, and now here we are. it’s also trapped very clearly between the sort of like, thing about writing jemily (for me, at least), which is that what you have to get around with jj is her life, and what you have to get around with emily is granting her the right level of interiority. it’s typically easier for me to write jj as a way of looking at emily and dealing with her own life— it makes more sense than the reverse, because a lot of that would then have to be conducted in dialogue, which i hate to write. so that’s another thing here— on one hand, very experimental for me, on the other hand, very much squarely in a comfort zone in order to enable that experimentation.

in a lot of fics i remember pretty precisely where i started, or the multiple, i don’t know, nodes that i wrote outward from, but it’s surprisingly hard to tell with this one. here are some bits i remember starting with, though:

i wasn’t going to screenshot all of this but there’s a lot of early retreading of the gold vs silver metaphor, a riff on ellroy’s fire and ice thing—which also would have worked but struck me as less naturally apt. i spent some time on it because i thought it was fun, and i love to stack and overdetermine metaphors— probably the last 2 sentences in the second paragraph above are my favorite part of the whole fic. there’s also the obvious element of contrast in jj and emily, who are fairly polarized on levels of class, have the sort of contrastive girl roles (brunette and blonde, the two poles of 00s tv white woman personalities, yk), are differently reserved and tempermental, and obviously distinct color palettes too. i said above that i thought the fire and ice rivalry was really good characterization on ellroy’s part, and that’s because it really allowed bucky to speak about himself both as he was perceived, as he saw himself, and how he aspired to be and be perceived; it also allowed him to size himself up against lee, and many of those same matters of perception relative to lee, albeit secondhand. so what i had going with jj was, on one hand, seeing emily, seeing emily through the eyes of others, and looking at herself in those same terms. the thing the rivalry of contrasts produces is this kind of categorical thought (if x is true of emily, it must have its analogue in jj), which has some validity, but also— as we get to the end of the paragraph— doesn’t have much momentum, and is largely an aesthetic judgment. one of the things i was kind of playing with here and throughout is how the terms of the rivalry fail them, but also guide them.

the above i remember writing quite early on, in the sort of like exploratory writing stage where i was setting up contrasts. this comes later in the fic, but i’d initially had it earlier (which makes sense, very much a fic about the various things hands can do), with jj sizing them up in action settings. i.e., there was going to be a bit where jj is like, ‘actually it’s kind of wild that prentiss is into boxing given that she’s very much characterized by stillness [this still makes it into the fic but not so explicitly],’ but i got impatient with that part.

okay so THIS i remember because the line “some far-flung desert of the mind, governed by bizarro logic and surreal slips of sound and light” was written to replace a line which is in a different fic of mine, which i’d borrowed and then decided it was totally out of place here. i don’t like the replacement, actually— it reads like a sort of terribly amateurish description of dali’s persistence of memory, but i’m not gonna fix it now lol. but i did have fun with the win under her belt / medal around her neck thing. i don’t think this has much payoff for readers (maybe?), but i did think it was fun to pivot between idioms/cliches in a way that’s like, halfway materially meaningful.

i’ve had to actually reread this fic to comment on it (cursed), so here are some things i remember really leaning on while writing:

i think jj’s juvenile insect collecting (was it just butterflies?) is kind of an early season deep cut, but this is a fic that’s really, like, relishing in how technical language and practices can be analogized to all sorts of settings, and have implications there. for example, the sort of post adrenaline rush slump / parallel to dom drop i was writing for jj— part of that is the fact that she’s still thinking of them as sparring, as rivals, and as engaging in (if minimal) violence. this sort of budding mutual attraction (she’s been looking at emily, hard, but not thinking about how that looking works) makes her amateurish, on one hand (in a variety of ways, from hitting too hard to feeling guilty about participating in recreational contact sports), and kind of traps her in boxing on the other. an embrace is like a clinch (literally sometimes called a hug, very on the nose), and is a way of limiting your opponent’s offensive capacity (they can’t punch freely, can’t set up combinations, can’t build momentum), and so on, and this colors how jj thinks. i think the same is true here— like again what I’m getting at is this sudden reversal for jj, where she feels a sinister edge to her interests. so this fic is just them hooking up in a locker room, but part of jj’s journey is making peace with herself again— or more specifically, finding that peace that’s already there, that she’s just lost for a bit.

that reversal was also what i was thinking about here, and comes full circle in the question of whether jj’s feeling turned on or riled up— words which mean, on one hand, very different things, but also are nevertheless fairly synonymous. so here, as above, it’s a question of like— what is jj even able to think here, and how is she getting past this moment where she’s only seeing things in negative terms. it’s more about care and mutuality than having sex with a woman being the ultimate panacea, but you know. that also fixes things.

also, as i said above, this is kind of a fic about perception, and there’s some of that strewn around as well:

just like— looking? seeing and re-seeing. it’s occurring to me now that this fic is extremely about Interpretation and Perception, which is very annoying english major behavior, but wcyd. i also do simply love to return to things. not foreshadowing but figuration, maybe, with full and gratuitous apologies to auerbach.

this is sort of way too long and simply noting themes. i guess the other thing was this:

which is like, again, full circle gold and silver, and again about jj’s own self-awareness and perception. i think if i were to write another scene to this fic it would be jj just being like, damn i have been doing a whole lot of looking and no seeing! but i also (iirc) was thinking here about what kinds of commonalities jj sees between herself and emily, particularly in this moment where she has ground to feel quite superior (winning the fight) but instead is feeling quite vulnerable, and at the mercy of a lot of new emotional stuff going on. an audience is on one hand just a figure of speech, but on the other hand it’s also the language of the spectated match still pervading jj’s thought process, and it’s something she’s rebutting, thinking past that setting to the one she’s actually in. it’s also something she can play with, as they’re makin VERY dumb jokes about gold and silver, as my spectacular flair for incredibly weird dialogue rears its tiny furry head.

so like, yeah? i think my concern throughout this was that jj was merely a way of looking, or a perspective, which was partly intended and partly unconscious and i think i’ve made my peace with that unconscious aspect, due to it being fairly critical to what this fic is. oh and the FBI female body inspector shirt gag, which is terrible but it makes me laugh.

#fic #lmao this is very long and probably quite boring too condolences to anyone who opens the readmore xoxo

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duckprintspress · 3 years

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How to Edit an Over-Length Story Down to a Specific Word Count

One of the most wonderful things about writing as a hobby is that you never have to worry about the length of your story. You can be as self-indulgent as you want, make your prose the royalist of purples, include every single side story and extra thought that strikes your fancy. It’s your story, with no limits, and you can proceed with it as you wish.

When transitioning from casual writing to a more professional writing milieu, this changes. If you want to publish, odds are, you’ll need to write to a word count. If a flash fiction serial says, “1,000 words or less,” your story can’t be 1,025 and still qualify. If a website says, “we accept novellas ranging from 20,000 to 40,000 words,” your story will need to fall into that window. Even when you consider novel-length works, stories are expected to be a certain word count to fit neatly into specific genres - romance is usually around 80,000 words, young adult usually 50,000 to 80,000, debut novels usually have to be 100,000 words or less regardless of genre, etc. If you self-publish or work with a small press, you may be able to get away with breaking these “rules,” but it’s still worthwhile to learn to read your own writing critically with length in mind and learn to recognize what you do and do not need to make your story work - and then, if length isn’t an issue in your publishing setting, you can always decide after figuring out what’s non-essential to just keep everything anyway.

If you’re writing for fun? You literally never have to worry about your word count (well, except for sometimes in specific challenges that have minimum and/or maximum word counts), and as such, this post is probably not for you.

But, if you’re used to writing in the “throw in everything and the kitchen sink” way that’s common in fandom fanfiction circles, and you’re trying to transition only to be suddenly confronted with the reality that you’ve written 6,000 words for a short story project with a maximum word count of 5,000...well, we at Duck Prints Press have been there, we are in fact there right now, as we finish our stories for our upcoming anthology Add Magic to Taste and many of us wrote first drafts that were well over the maximum word count.

So, based on our experiences, here are our suggestions on approaches to help your story shorter...without losing the story you wanted to tell!

Cut weasel words (we wrote a whole post to help you learn how to do that!) such as unnecessary adverbs and adjectives, the “was ~ing” sentence structure, redundant time words such as “a moment later,” and many others.

When reviewing dialog, keep an eye out for “uh,” “er,” “I mean,” “well,” and other casual extra words. A small amount of that kind of language usage can make dialog more realistic, but a little goes a long way, and often a fair number of words can be removed by cutting these words, without negatively impacting your story at all.

Active voice almost always uses fewer words than passive voice, so try to use active voice more (but don’t forget that passive voice is important for varying up your sentence structures and keeping your story interesting, so don’t only write in active voice!).

Look for places where you can replace phrases with single words that mean the same thing. You can often save a lot of words by switching out phrases like “come back” for “return” and seeking out other places where one word can do the work of many.

Cut sentences that add atmosphere but don't forward the plot or grow your characters. (Obviously, use your judgement. Don't cut ALL the flavor, but start by going - I’ve got two sentences that are mostly flavor text - which adds more? And then delete the other, or combine them into one shorter sentence.)

Remove superfluous dialog tags. If it’s clear who’s talking, especially if it’s a conversation between only two people, you can cut all the he saids, she saids.

Look for places where you've written repetitively - at the most basic level, “ ‘hahaha,’ he laughed,” is an example, but repetition is often more subtle, like instances where you give information in once sentence, and then rephrase part or all of that sentence in the next one - it’s better to poke at the two sentences until you think of an effective, and more concise, way to make them into only one sentence. This also goes for scenes - if you’ve got two scenes that tend towards accomplishing the same plot-related goal, consider combining them into one scene.

Have a reason for every sentence, and even every sentence clause (as in, every comma insertion, every part of the sentence, every em dashed inclusion, that kind of thing). Ask yourself - what function does this serve? Have I met that function somewhere else? If it serves no function, or if it’s duplicative, consider cutting it. Or, the answer may be “none,” and you may choose to save it anyway - because it adds flavor, or is very in character for your PoV person, or any of a number of reasons. But if you’re saving it, make sure you’ve done so intentionally. It's important to be aware of what you're trying to do with your words, or else how can you recognize what to cut, and what not to cut?

Likewise, have a reason for every scene. They should all move the story along - whatever the story is, it doesn’t have to be “the end of the world,” your story can be simple and straightforward and sequential...but if you’re working to a word count, your scenes should still forward the story toward that end point. If the scene doesn’t contribute...you may not need them, or you may be able to fold it in with another scene, as suggested in item 6.

Review the worldbuilding you’ve included, and consider what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. A bit of worldbuilding outside of the bare essentials makes a story feel fleshed out, but again, a little can go a long way. If you’ve got lots of “fun” worldbuilding bits that don’t actually forward your plot and aren’t relevant to your characters, cut them. You can always put them as extras in your blog later, but they’ll just make your story clunky if you have a lot of them.

Beware of info-dumps. Often finding a more natural way to integrate that information - showing instead of telling in bits throughout the story - can help reduce word count.

Alternatively - if you over-show, and never tell, this will vastly increase your word count, so consider if there are any places in your story where you can gloss over the details in favor of a shorter more “tell-y” description. You don’t need to go into a minute description of every smile and laugh - sometimes it’s fine to just say, “she was happy” or “she frowned” without going into a long description of their reaction that makes the reader infer that they were happy. (Anyone who unconditionally says “show, don’t tell,” is giving you bad writing advice. It’s much more important to learn to recognize when showing is more appropriate, and when telling is more appropriate, because no story will function as a cohesive whole if it’s all one or all the other.)

If you’ve got long paragraphs, they’re often prime places to look for entire sentences to cut. Read them critically and consider what’s actually helping your story instead of just adding word count chonk.

Try reading some or all of the dialog out loud; if it gets boring, repetitive, or unnecessary, end your scene wherever you start to lose interest, and cut the dialog that came after. If necessary, add a sentence or two of description at the end to make sure the transition is abrupt, but honestly, you often won’t even need to do so - scenes that end at the final punchy point in a discussion often work very well.

Create a specific goal for a scene or chapter. Maybe it’s revealing a specific piece of information, or having a character discover a specific thing, or having a specific unexpected event occur, but, whatever it is, make sure you can say, “this scene/chapter is supposed to accomplish this.” Once you know what you’re trying to do, check if the scene met that goal, make any necessary changes to ensure it does, and cut things that don’t help the scene meet that goal.

Building on the previous one, you can do the same thing, but for your entire story. Starting from the beginning, re-outline the story scene-by-scene and/or chapter-by-chapter, picking out what the main “beats” and most important themes are, and then re-read your draft and make sure you’re hitting those clearly. Consider cutting out the pieces of your story that don’t contribute to those, and definitely cut the pieces that distract from those key moments (unless, of course, the distraction is the point.)

Re-read a section you think could be cut and see if any sentences snag your attention. Poke at that bit until you figure out why - often, it’s because the sentence is unnecessary, poorly worded, unclear, or otherwise superfluous. You can often rewrite the sentence to be clearer, or cut the sentence completely without negatively impacting your work.

Be prepared to cut your darlings; even if you love a sentence or dialog exchange or paragraph, if you are working to a strict word count and it doesn't add anything, it may have to go, and that's okay...even though yes, it will hurt, always, no matter how experienced a writer you are. (Tip? Save your original draft, and/or make a new word doc where you safely tuck your darlings in for the future. Second tip? If you really, really love it...find a way to save it, but understand that to do so, you’ll have to cut something else. It’s often wise to pick one or two favorites and sacrifice the rest to save the best ones. We are not saying “always cut your darlings.” That is terrible writing advice. Don’t always cut your darlings. Writing, and reading your own writing, should bring you joy, even when you’re doing it professionally.)

If you’re having trouble recognizing what in your own work CAN be cut, try implementing the above strategies in different places - cut things, and then re-read, and see how it works, and if it works at all. Sometimes, you’ll realize...you didn’t need any of what you cut. Other times, you’ll realize...it no longer feels like the story you were trying to tell. Fiddle with it until you figure out what you need for it to still feel like your story, and practice that kind of cutting until you get better at recognizing what can and can’t go without having to do as much tweaking.

Lastly...along the lines of the previous...understand that sometimes, cutting your story down to a certain word count will just be impossible. Some stories simply can’t be made very short, and others simply can’t be told at length. If you’re really struggling, it’s important to consider that your story just...isn’t going to work at that word count. And that’s okay. Go back to the drawing board, and try again - you’ll also get better at learning what stories you can tell, in your style, using your own writing voice, at different word counts. It’s not something you’ll just know how to do - that kind of estimating is a skill, just like all other writing abilities.

As with all our writing advice - there’s no one way to tackle cutting stories for length, and also, which of these strategies is most appropriate will depend on what kind of story you’re writing, how much over-length it is, what your target market is, your characters, and your personal writing style. Try different ones, and see which work for you - the most important aspect is to learn to read your own writing critically enough that you are able to recognize what you can cut, and then from that standpoint, use your expertise to decide what you should cut, which is definitely not always the same thing. Lots of details can be cut - but a story with all of the flavor and individuality removed should never be your goal.

Contributions to this post were made by @unforth, @jhoomwrites, @alecjmarsh, @shealynn88, @foxymoley, @willablythe, and @owlishintergalactic, and their input has been used with their knowledge and explicit permission. Thanks, everyone, for helping us consider different ways to shorten stories!

#writing advice #duck prints press #original content

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melforbes · 3 years

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ask meme. what if. patching up. no I still haven’t seen source material

the way i completely forgot about this ask until i wrote like two paragraphs in this and was like oh shit lmao

the source material is getting an hbo series bb you're in luck also ignore anna whatever as tess yes i respect her as an actress yes she is talented in a bunch of things i have not seen but ms annie wersching is the only tess in my heart and also if i have to endure tess being reduced to a powerbitch stereotype i will start foaming at the mouth. but also i have no feelings about this whatsoever <3

WHAT IF: i will pick an important choice or event in my current project and write three sentences (or more?) about if it’d gone done differently

hmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMm

this is hard because i kind of had a stupid amount of confidence in the decisions i had them make in this and because i have ~a lot of experience~ in flying by the seat of my pants with writing lmaooooo a lot of the time with this ive had some degree of foresight when it comes to certain plot decisions. the only reason i have this in the first place is that with other things ive had kind of sort of plot revelations and then been like "well if i'd set that up three chapters ago it would have a huge impact i think but instead i guess it's just going in this one for a smaller impact" so i think i learned my lesson haha. also because this pairing nowadays has a small and sparse tag i really intentionally put in stuff to make it interesting (maybe the wrong word) to reread. like not Interesting interesting but i wanted there to be certain details that are more relevant on a reread than on an initial read because whenever i read stuff in small tags i tend to read it Multiple Times lmaoooooo and it's like if anyone like me is out there I Will Feed You. I Will Give You Food. you see i have this problem in which im like i dont want to act like i put thought into this because That's Embarrassing and i also dont want to seem like i take this too seriously because That's Embarrassing and also i dont want to act uppity or pompous or something But At The Same Time i do put a lot of thought into certain things and i feel like mentioning that and i dont really want to judge myself for that. it's complicated but also super uncomplicated. where was i going with this

OH right. so most of the plot decisions were made super concretely. like pre breakup arc in the nightmares chapters (which came out so much worse than i intended alkdjksjad;glksjg) when tess and joel talk about ellie Knowing (also legit it is such a trip to me that you dont know the context of that. a trip in a good way) she says we every time and he only ever says i even when she points out that this would affect both of them, and at one point i think he says that tess doesnt understand baseless violence which is 100% untrue, and then there's a bunch of window imagery i put in starting there because im a freak. so like For Once In My Life a lot of this was as planned as it could be. on occasion there's been Plot Revelations that get wedged in (the radio interlude chapter, which was a bit of an inelegant seam between prewritten things that didnt mesh well) but for the most part ive got tits out into every decision. like tess and ellie disagreeing about joel's choice was very planned though i imagine that kind of conversation could be executed many different ways i had my one way and stuck to it. so either way

where was i going with this. did i have a point.

OKAY. let's see. i think one of the big ~emotional beats~ so to speak was the ambush chapter and i think that's the favorite because that's usually where people comment if i remember correctly and initially i wasnt going to go with that tone At All haha. years ago i wrote everyday domestic scenes of mulder and scully from x files and had it all on this blog and it was plotless but largely in the same overarching universe (i say as if it was legit ever That Deep) and after writing this as a oneshot and being like you know? Kind of feel like doing that again. i figured i would just follow the same largely plotless path of legit just domesticity and leave it at that. and i think the first like five chapters are tonally different from the rest because i'd never really intended for it to have plot or really any depth whatsoever. in the end like. How do i say this in a way that wont be interpreted as uppity or something asldkjgalsdgjk like. when i did those mulder scully scenes i was very much a beginner and i think i didnt realize just how inherent that beginner-ness was to the concept itself. which isnt a bad thing! like people had fun with those so far as i remember. bizarrely enough i think people might still read those which. cringe. but you kno!!! but with a few years of distance from that kind of concept i think it was hard for me to Not try something else. especially with this universe in which it's just dense with storytelling opportunity. and also i felt as if the first few chapters were just like super super lighthearted and i wanted some angst factor. which is why in the end the angst factor plot itself is flimsy as fuck. like i did not care WHY they got attacked i just wanted that sweet sweet hurt/comfort cup of tea u feel. and after that i didnt really go for the plot too much But i did edge toward it a lot more. like i mean ultimately this is a romance like it was not intended to be plot heavy ever But it's more plot heavy than it couldve been. had i actually written it as i'd intended from the start i think it wouldve gotten old really fast. like nothing but lighthearted domesticity doesnt make sense in this context. for the first few chapters it doesnt necessarily kill the whole thing imo because like. that's the first few chapters. but after then if there was never any ~deeper thoughts~ i think it wouldve gotten reductive super fast.

hmmm what else. Because i am deciding to talk too much on the internet now.

oh in theory the whole breakup arc couldve been omitted and now in retrospect im like it's hilarious that like the next chapter after they got married i immediately peppered in hints that they would break up lkajsdglaksjgdlkj like wow. That lasted a long time. but like i mean i think with them it fits that they would do something like get married before they even said that they loved each other. like i can see them doing a massive workaround instead of doing a small and simple but vulnerable thing. makes sense 2 me. and like they definitely couldve stuck together in the end but 1 theres interesting storytelling in how maybe joel was too stubborn or maybe they grew apart in certain ways or blah blah blah and 2 I JUST LOVE A GOOD BREAKUP AND THEN RETURNING TO EACH OTHER ARC OKAAAAAAAAAY. legit. favorite trope. if i ever experienced that in real life i would claw my eyes out but in fiction it makes me FERALLLL. and also like i mean i lov these two for their dumb quirks but also like it would be a lil wrong to say there wouldnt be consequences for like. Not communicating haha. also again like the world this game is put in is so full of storytelling opportunities and im like Must Take Them All. like joel is stubborn as hell and shuts down when he's overwhelmed and there is growth in the first game (and in the second too but thats not really shown as much and is more left for the player to fill in the gaps i think) but also i think it would be super easy to regress in that sense and i had fun with putting him in those situations. and it's also super fun to have an additional person for the joel and ellie plots to bounce off of. like joel and ellie are two very stubborn people and having an extra person there to be like You Blithering Idiots has been a good time. im getting sidetracked. like it was fun to answer the question of how these two in a marriage neither of them can fully substantiate would communicate in hard times and the answer i personally found was that they both would end up breaking things. which was fun to write!!!!!!!!! but in theory couldve been prevented. maybe i just cant imagine this a different way haha. like Joel And Tess Learn Healthy Communication Skills Over Time. am i mean for saying that doesnt sound probable aldskjgalskdjgslkgj

OH LMAO THE MARRIAGE PART. that was also a big decision i guess. i wouldnt make it go differently alksdjglasdjg like. i definitely couldve written the context around that many different ways bc again this whole is full of opportunity But a frankly premature wedding just feels right to me. especially with like going from being stuck on survival to being safe for the first time in decades. and then having that sense of safety get boring and wondering why there was that super fast wedding in the first place. cant really imagine it going differently

there is later unposted stuff that could def have gone many different ways and that i tried to make go different ways but that would not be right to talk about akldsjaslkgdjsg so.

this got too long sorry <3

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serialreblogger · 4 years

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some of your post/reblogs were so relatable to me that more and more I think I may have ADHD (I'm like, at least 70% sure of this and the 30% is me searching for a psychiatrist/therapist that I can trust/afford, anyway) so, since your how to essay post Im talking myself to ask if you have some study tips or tips to focus, anything to help, really. I'm in college and I can't focus to read 2 paragraphs which makes me anxious and makes me procrastinate because I can't study and I HAVE to study so I avoid everything but then I think NOW I have even less time to study and I got stuck in this circle. And because I can't read anything I also cant bullshit my way writing papers that I have to so I don't do this too, so I'm just spiraling more and more with this which also doesn't help with the depression. And I'm so, so SORRY to dump my problems on you (this isn't my intention here) but if you have some tips or don't mind talking about what you do to study I really appreciate it with all my heart.

oh friend, i’m so sorry to hear you’re goin through that, it’s EXTREMELY relatable tho. everything you just wrote basically sums up my entire first year of university (just add in a couple dozen spiralling panic attacks on the basement floor and you’ll be me), and while i wish i had advice i could promise would solve the issue, i don’t... know? that i would recommend doing exactly what i did? because while i made it through university with ridiculously good grades, i also exacerbated a pre-existing anxiety disorder to the point where i literally could not bear being alive for a while there.

but for whatever it’s worth, and bearing in mind that you need to prioritize your own well-being WAY above whatever grades you get on a stupid piece of paper, here’s some tips on how to get through course readings, based on what i’ve learned through blood, tears, trial and error:

don’t read the full two paragraphs, to start. ADHD makes reading academic articles hell, but (and i genuinely don’t know if this is possible for anyone else, the chemical cocktail of debilitating anxiety that was my brain at the time made me do things i otherwise couldn’t and definitely shouldn’t) i did manage to finagle a way to make it work for me.

See, the thing about academic papers is that they’re very nicely organized. every paragraph is dedicated to making an individual point, which is introduced at the beginning and summarized, more or less, towards the end. this means you can get a very handy-dandy trick, because here’s the thing about ADHD brains: we’re VERY GOOD at making connections.

so here’s the trick: you don’t actually have to read the paragraphs. Not the full ones, anyway.

Let’s break it down:

First, what is the overall reading meant to address? What’s the title of the book or article? Is there a heading or subtitle to provide you with extra information?

Second, what is the thesis statement in your paragraph? Yes, every essay has a thesis statement, but every paragraph also has a specific point to make, which is stated in a sort of mini-thesis, typically right at the beginning.

Once you know this thesis statement, the rest of the paragraph is just fleshing out and providing evidence for that statement. You can keep reading if you need more information to understand what the author’s getting at, but once you’ve got that thesis statement, the rest is just there to get in your way.

For neurotypicals, I think, it’s maybe necessary to read this stuff all the way through? I don’t know. What I do know is that, for ADHDers, we tend to be very, very good at making extrapolations from very minimal information, based on all the surrounding context.

You don’t need to do the full readings. You just need to read the first sentence, process what it’s saying, and skip over the rest.

(if the first sentence of the paragraph is nonsense to you, don’t panic. often the first sentence or even the whole introductory paragraph is intentionally confusing, so if there’s something you don’t understand, disregard it and move on to the second sentence, or the next paragraph.

this happens often, because a lot of academic writing is just a power play on the part of the writer. “Look How Smart I Am Compared To You, You Have To Work So Hard To Figure Out What I’m Saying,” etc. Don’t buy it, tho--the true measure of intelligence isn’t how thoroughly you can confuse someone else, it’s how effectively you can share the knowledge you have. Intelligence is useless if you can’t share it.

Do whatever you can to make it through essential readings, but don’t be intimidated by them. If you can’t understand them, it’s not because you aren’t “smart enough,” it’s because they’re badly written.)

Final notes: this process is meant to walk you through reading papers, but it also lowkey applies to a lot of insurmountable tasks in academia.

You look at a 5-page paper, look at your attention span, and immediately despair because yeah, that’s impossible. The solution is not to expand your attention span, because that’s also impossible. So, instead, don’t look at the 5 pages.

Look at an impossible task, and break it down into its smallest pieces.

Don’t look at the 5 pages, don’t even look at the first two paragraphs. Make a plan for how reading a single paragraph might be possible for you (in this case, break the paragraph down into its own components, and skim over most of them in favour of reading only the most necessary portions). Then focus on finding those one or two sentences you need in the very first paragraph. That’s doable.

You do that, and then you move onto the next.

It’s extremely difficult, especially for ADHDers, to limit your mental vision to the most immediate task and stop looking at the big picture, but it’s also necessary. If you can find a way to make the smallest tasks possible for you, you can break the big, impossible ones down until they’re made of tiny chores. You can do tiny chores. You can read one sentence, take five minutes to process it, but you can read it. That’s all you need to be able to do.

Read one sentence. Skip the rest. Move on to the next paragraph. Repeat.

That’s the real secret, the one that got me through university. It’s impossible to complete a biology lab, it’s impossible to read this entire interminable textbook, so don’t think about the impossible tasks. Think about the single step directly in front of you, focus entirely on that, and eventually, the impossible tasks will be done.

(The other thing I recommend is not taking a full courseload. Please, please, please make sure that in addition to getting your schoolwork done, you also have enough time left over for you to truly relax, and not feel guilty for doing so. If you’re getting intrusive thoughts halfway through an essay, but instead of terrible things you’re thinking about your latest favourite TV show and feel like your brain is thirsty to watch it? You’re working too hard. Take it from someone who ignored their own mental needs until it wrecked them past the point of continuing--burnout is not fun, and you deserve to protect yourself from it. Take it slow. Your wants are just as important as your needs, and both are way more important than your schoolwork.)

#again i genuinely don't know if this will work for you #adhd brains are above all nigh-impossible to wrangle #so if you can't get this method to work for you that's OKAY. you're already doing your best #if possible do get a doctor/psychiatrist you trust to provide a diagnosis bc that will open some avenues for learning assistance #and again. i really. cannot stress enough how little i recommend a full courseload with adhd #stuff takes more time for you! that's just how it works!#if you can get medication and/or extra accommodations from your school i don't doubt that would be 10x as helpful as anything i can provide #but for whatever it's worth #here's how i survived #linden writes an essay #adhd #academia #ask linden

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Sometimes Labels Fail (Bonus Features)

Want to know what I’m blathering on about? Click below!

AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Title in my Word Document: The Correct Label is Baby. He’s Baby. (Yes, I label my WIP’s with memes when at all possible. No, I am not taking constructive criticism)

Technical Writing Facts:

This fic appears in three different places in my documents. First it started in my Ideas word document, then it transferred over to a file called TSSS superhero (which has now become where I store things in this universe until they become their own stories or one-shots. Currently I have 13,746 unpublished words in this folder… most of it is piecemeal, but I digress.). Then I decided to rewrite parts of it and put it in the word document mentioned above.

I wrote most of the story during finals week. The last chapter was written while I proctored my student’s exams. Logan’s crack about being asked questions about his class by students at coffee shops was me venting over something that had happened recently. Please, do not come up to me with your laptop open in a public place. I just wanted a cup of tea.

Patton did not originally have a large role in this fic. Then I wrote the first paragraph and thought it was funny to have Logan being absolutely serious as he listed out the way he segmented his life and just input random not as serous things, and Patton convincing him to put jam in cookies came up and then the binder part came in and suddenly it wasn’t a joke and they’d been married for decades.

In part 2, Logan comforts Patton by hugging him, rubbing his back, and laying his cheek on top of his head. In part 3, you see Patton comforting Virgil in the exact same way. This is intentional as Logan observed this behavior from Patton over the years and emulates it.

I wrote the whole story before giving Logan and Virgil superhero names. Instead I just wrote (Logan) and (Virgil) every time so I could “control f” their names with parenthesis when I decided on something.

I couldn’t stop calling Virgil Shadow Crawler and I don’t know why. I kept having to go back and find and replace in my word document for it.

I immediately regretted calling Logan Bluebird. It was fine for his chapter and then I couldn’t stop laughing every time Virgil seriously called him that in his head.

Character Facts:

All of the sides + Emile and Remy exist and are sympathetic in this AU.

Logan:

Logan has a doctorate degree in math and physics. He double majored in both and went straight for a PhD in math after his undergrad. He picked the physics one up later. He also went and got a bachelor’s degree in biology. (No this wasn’t so he could understand Patton’s research papers better. That would be an irrational reason to get a college degree.)

Logan became a superhero out of academic spite because of course he did.

When Logan first became a hero, it was shortly after a scandal that happened where a major superhero’s identity was exposed, and it turned out it was the spouse of an important political figure. It was a very public and messy divorce. Logan swore to himself he’d never get into a relationship with someone who didn’t already know he was a superhero, citing it was a bad foundation for relationships. The catch 22 was that he refused to tell anyone his secret identity. Patton ended up figuring it out on his own. Logan had not accounted for this.

In fact, Logan at the end of this story, had never told anyone his secret identity. At the end of this story only three people knew: Patton, Virgil, and Remy. No one ever told Remy and they never discussed it with him. He just kinda figured it out and didn’t say anything. Logan knows he figured it out and also hasn’t said anything. Remy is a bit salty about this and likes to send subtle jabs at Logan about it. Both Patton and Logan know he knows. He’s known almost as long as Patton. It’s almost an inside joke between them at this point.

Virgil:

Virgil doesn’t know anything about his birth-parents other than his birth mother died in childbirth.

Virgil once stole something that was not money or food and it was completely accidental. He broke into a museum just to look as a 14th birthday present for himself. He got caught by a guard and panicked. For some reason, his panicked brain told him since he was a villain, he had to make it look like there was a villainous reason for him to be there… so he stole a statue. Yeah, he doesn’t understand it either. Yes, he ended up getting it back to them. What was he supposed to do with a statue?

Virgil plays the clarinet and is actually pretty good. He wasn’t able to get into any of the bands you have to audition for (he’s just in the general non-audition band at school) and was never able to really practice. Plus, his clarinet is one of those meh loaners from the school.

Virgil ends up majoring in biology with a minor in chemistry and attends the same college Logan teaches at.

I haven’t quite decided what Virgil’s going to do for his career when he grows up, but I’m leaning toward something in the medical field, though not a surgeon like Patton. Maybe a pediatrician.

Patton:

Patton was the one originally with the name Sanders. Logan took his name when they married.

Patton’s family life wasn’t… great in his youth. He had some unhealthy perceptions of relationships and his place in relationships he had to work through.

The café Virgil and Logan went to in the last chapter is where Patton and Logan first met! Patton almost poured an entire cup of coffee on him because he was exhausted after a shift at the hospital. He didn’t even notice that Logan used his powers to prevent an accident. Logan wasn’t sure if he was acting like he didn’t noticed and was plotting something. He decided to keep an eye on him. (Spoiler alert: he did keep a very good eye on him.

Patton saved the life of the current mayor. She had been the chief of police about a decade before this story. She was majorly injured in the line of duty to the point where basically she was a lost cause. Patton, though, saw her two elementary aged sons and went absolutely not. With the permission of her wife, he took her in for multiple surgeries (many experimental) and by pure force of will stitched her back together. She woke up half a year later. Will she ever walk again? No. Did she get to adamantly insist on carrying boxes on her lap while riding a wheelchair to help her sons move into their college dorm this past fall? Yes.

Because of the above, Patton gets invited to many high-profile events. Patton does not like going to these things alone. Which isn’t a problem until Bluebird is on the guest list.

Remy:

Remy has been working with Patton for basically forever. He’d been working for less than a year before he got swept up for an emergency surgery because he was the closest one around and it was a very high-profile case that needed to be dealt with right that second. That’s when he first met Patton and due to certain events, everyone in that room ended up with a certain tie to each other. He’s basically been Patton’s nurse ever since even when they just worked together in the ER. Everyone knew Remy was Patton’s nurse even though he wasn’t officially. When Patton stopped being an ER surgeon and became more of a specialist, Remy followed him right out the door and now works with him and two other doctors.

Roman:

Roman didn’t appear in this story, but he was mentioned and he’s around. He started going out in a prince costume when he was 17. (He is 3 years older than Virgil). He gets away with it mostly because everyone “knows” Roman’s too dramatic and likes to boast. The boy couldn’t keep a secret like that to save his life. So, what if that guy has superstrength like him? Look he’s sitting right there. Wait that’s Remus? …Nah, still couldn’t be him.

Remus:

Remus is Roman’s twin and has the same powers as him. He is not active during this story, but he will end up as a “villain.” He actually ends up working with a government agency to basically go undercover as a supervillain and helps bring down villains. He’s really good at it. His mothers know, but honestly, they kind of expected something like this. They’re just glad their other son is just a normal actor who has no interest in risking his life…

Deceit:

Deceit was actually mentioned (though not by name) in the first chapter. He is a vigilante and has been since before Logan was on the scene. Logan hates him. He probably would have gotten over being shot that one time, but then he made the mistake of needing medical care and kidnapping a doctor… He didn’t harm Patton at all, and Logan found him in like two hours, but none of that mattered. Logan was super, super pissed. The funny thing is, Deceit was not and still is not aware of Patton’s personal connection to Bluebird. He isn’t quite sure why Bluebird treats him with more disdain than he does most villains, but just figures he’s an asshole.

Emile:

Emile is a pretty well-known psychiatrist. He offered his services free of charge for people affected by the school shooting. He even extended the invitation to Bluebird, letting him wear the mask the whole time. Logan took him up on it because honestly, it was a traumatic situation and he figured he should deal with it now rather than later. Emile is currently dating Remy. He was not 100% sure why the superhero Bluebird seemed to be giving him dating advice at a party, but it worked out. (No, Remy is not aware Logan set him up.)

Feel free to keep sending asks about this story going forward. I love them and I have a lot more about this universe in my head that I didn’t put here either unintentionally or intentionally.

Click here for asks already answered in chronological order.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #remy sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #tw school shooting #tw medical #tw surgery #sometimes labels fail #bonus features #labeled universe #deceit sanders #emile piccani

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continuations · 3 years

Text

This Is Not A Drill

Anyone following Continuations knows that I have been writing for quite some time that Trump represents an attack on the institutions of democracy. Here is the opening paragraph of a post I wrote about why I was voting for Hillary Clinton (despite disliking her as a candidate):

The 2016 Presidential race is not a typical election between two candidates based on the merits of their positions on key issues. Instead, it is a stark choice between Hillary Clinton, whose positions you may disagree with, but who is firmly grounded in the democratic and scientific tradition that has made America great, and Donald Trump, a candidate born from reality television who is an autocratic demagogue willfully ignoring science and intentionally trashing any rational discourse.

There was plenty of opportunity to see this ahead of time and then to watch it play out over the last four years, culminating in the demonstration yesterday that ultimately spilled over into a breaching of Congress.

Now there will be those who will say it was all a farce, that as the great Karl Marx quote that goes “History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce.” The implication being that this was all a bunch of bumbling fools who can be safely ignored.

I think that doing so would be a grave mistake and would be ignoring both history and the signs that are already clearly visible today. Events like this are never just about the event itself. Instead, it is important to recognize that (a) the people actually there are the visible tip of the iceberg (with the far greater group of supporters and sympathizers submerged) and (b) the myth making that will follow.

German history unfortunately provides not one but two relevant historical precedents that are worth understanding better. I have already tweeted about one of them, the so called Dolchstoßlegende (or stab-in-the-back myth). People seem to be wondering why Trump clung to the fiction that he had won this election and were overly focused on the threat of overturning the current outcome. The real threat is the myth being built that will fuel Trumpism and any would-be successor movement for years to come.

The second precedent worth knowing about is the Munich Putsch, also known as the Beer Hall Putsch of 1923. Obviously a great many differences but one important lesson. The existing powers didn’t take it seriously enough. Yes, they threw a couple of organizers into prison, but they didn’t at all disable the underlying movement that was building. Instead they provided an opportunity for that movement to grow much stronger.

We should not make the same mistake now. Not only do we need to strengthen the institutions of democracy but we also need to firmly counter those who would happily overthrow it, if given a chance. This, however, can only be accomplished if it has broad political support, meaning the GOP needs to be part of it. Otherwise it will be seen as a partisan effort and further undermine democracy.

#politics #trump #democracy

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padfootagain · 5 years

Text

A Not So Restful Summer At The Beach (I)

Part 1: A Strange Feeling

Here we go with a new series, this time for our favourite couple the Ineffable Husbands! I hope you like this idea of mine :) It's my first series for them, so please, tell me what you think about it cause I feel very nervous!!!!

There are two timelines in this chapter that I've separated with these ***, while a paragraph break is signalled with these ----

Be prepared for both angst and fluff in this.

Gif not mine

Word Count: 4147

"Where's Crowley?"

It's a mere whisper. Voice hoarse drenched with tears. Red and swollen eyes. He can't believe in the possibility and yet his body is already reacting to it as if it were all true. It can't be, though. It just can't be. The mere thought is unimaginable. The mere thought has his heart and soul both shattering in thousands of tiny fragments full of pain. The mere thought has his world crumbling. The mere thought has him losing faith in everything.

In his hand the gun shakes. His finger loosely rests on the trigger. He points it at the angel before him.

The ridicule of the situation hits him harder than a punch. Or well, not exactly ridicule but… the absurdity of it, at least. He's an angel menacing another angel with a firearm. The world has gone utterly wrong.

But then Crowley is not here. Crowley might never come back. Crowley is… might be…

Of course the world has gone all wrong. His world, at the very least.

"Where. Is. Crowley?"

He repeats the words one last time. His jaw is clenched and he can't how fast his heart beats. He decides then that it's the angel's last chance. If there is no other way to learn the truth, he will do it. Pull on the trigger.

The shakiness in his voice is still strong but he can't control it. He can't control anything. As the tears form in his eyes again, the world turns all blur, until the angel before him almost disappears in the cloudy sky and the grey sea.

"Aziraphale," she tries to reason him, but she already knows she can't change his mind. If he has taken the decision to discorporate her, he will. "Listen to me. We can still arrange everything."

"Arrange everything?!" Aziraphale replies with a voice so full of emotions: anger, astonishment, betrayal, pain… "There was nothing to arrange! We were just minding our own business, why couldn't you leave us alone?"

"Aziraphale, don't do anything stupid."

"Where is Crowley? What have you done to him? Have you… Have you…"

His lips tremble, and he can't muster the words. He can't let them pass his lips, form on his tongue, they taste too much of pain, their meaning is too terrible. He changes them for something still cruel, but that he could at least have a power upon. Words that give him hope, even if only a fool's one. When he finally speaks again his voice is a little more high-pitched than usual.

"Have you hurt him?"

But he's met with only silence for a long while. And when Bénédicte speaks again, it's not to give him the answer he is looking for. He can see the perspiration on her forehead. He can see that she is frightened, but somehow, he knows she's not scared enough to speak.

"We both know you're not going to pull that trigger. You're still an angel. You're still on our side. And Crowley is not. He's a demon, Aziraphale. He's not on your side, but I am. Now, give me the gun."

She extends her hand towards him, and he stares at it for a moment: black fingers that seem to be pointing at the gun, a little shaky, a little too perfectly shaped to be human.

But he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't make a gesture to give it to her.

Instead, he looks up at her again. He can't give her the gun. The only other option is to use it.

In more than 6000 years, Aziraphale has never hurt a living creature. Never intentionally, at least. But then… then he asks himself a very important and yet simple question.

What would he not to do for Crowley?

And as he imagines Crowley's body dissolving in Holy Water, as he hears his shout echoing through his heart and soul, as he imagines the look of pure terror in his beautiful eyes, the answer comes as obvious. It's a very pure truth that will not falter, no matter the circumstances, no matter what is required of him.

He can't imagine anything he wouldn't do to stop Crowley from being hurt. Not a single thing. Aziraphale would do anything necessary to save Crowley.

The safety on the gun makes a little 'click' noise, and on the trigger, his finger is heavier and heavier. And Bénédicte sees the movement and can only wait for Aziraphale's decision.

He moves the gun across her abdomen, from her heart to her stomach and to her shoulder and to her arm…

He has never in his life used a firearm and would have never imagined he would. But then, he reckons that he had always imagined that Crowley would be there to get him out of trouble if need be. But not today.

Today feels unreal. Today looks like a day where pigs could fly and the world could be ending, and Crowley could be gone forever. Today is for unrealistic things. He guesses that shooting at another angel fits perfectly in this theme.

Aziraphale's tears are more powerful again and his hand shakes a little bit more, but the decision is taken and there is no going back.

And on the trigger, Aziraphale's finger gently presses more and more until the shot is fired.

**************************************************

A few days before

"Sit down, Angel. Stop pacing and just… sit down. You’re making me nervous."

"What if… you’ve felt there was a change too!"

"There was a tiny tremor. That’s all it is."

"We should be with Adam… what if they try to hurt the poor boy?"

"He’ll be fine! Why would they try to hurt him? He was the antichrist, but now he’s just a normal kid. Or well, almost normal… normal enough… He’s not a threat to anyone."

"Still… I would feel much better if I was sure he’s okay," Aziraphale argued, finally sitting down again instead of pacing through the aisle of the train, and several people stopped looking at him with an eyeroll that meant 'this man must be crazy or something'.

"Aziraphale, we've made sure he would be safe. We have. He’s with his family, in his house that we have secured against both demonic and angelic attacks. Nothing’s gonna happen to him. And we need a break. We deserve one after 6000 years of loyal service and a full year of treason."

"Oh… no need to use this disgusting word, Crowley."

Aziraphale took the mobile phone Adam and his friends had insisted he’d buy. If the angel had never been much interested in technology, he was glad to admit that this particular device was very useful. Crowley had been surprised at how fast Aziraphale had mastered all its functionalities… or at least, for the most part.

By the window of the train, the green English landscapes were passing by in a blur. The soft movement of the train shook them both from time and were starting to lull Crowley to sleep, his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier.

"We could have come here with the Bentley," Crowley complained out of the blue.

"The point was to be discreet. Your car might be highly stylish, it lacks the discreet element of this trip," Aziraphale replied, his eyes still fixed on his phone.

But there was a frown on his angelic features, and he was soon moving the phone around him, first placing it towards the window, then the aisle, then above his head and finally extending his arm towards Crowley.

"Oh… no…" he said with an adorable disappointed pout. "No signal…"

"Who did you want to call anyway, Angel? Oh no… not Adam again, let the kid breathe! He lived without us for 11 years, he can live two weeks more on his own!"

"It’s not that, Crowley. I’m worried about this… ripple we’re both feeling. We should warn him about it. Tell him to be extra-careful…"

The angel’s face suddenly illuminated from within as a bright idea passed through his mind.

"I can send him a mail instead of calling him. That will be much more efficient. And I love sending mails…"

"Text. Through a phone, you send a text," Crowley corrected him with a half amused, half annoyed tone by which Aziraphale was not fooled at all, and a mischievous smile formed on his lips.

"Well, whatever you say. Anyway, I could send him a text. To tell him to be careful."

"Well, do it then."

"But I can’t! I don’t any signal."

Aziraphale gave Crowley these baby eyes that the demon -although he would never admit it out loud- adored, and to which he could never resist…

The demon heaved a sigh, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Alright. There you go. Send your text and then no more miracles."

Crowley sat a little straighter on his seat, and snapped his fingers. A mere second was needed for all the little bars on Aziraphale’s phone to appear.

"Oh! Thank you," he smiled to his friend, his eyes oozing tenderness.

Which made Crowley smile and his heart beat a little faster than usual. He didn’t reply, and merely gave his angel a soft look.

Aziraphale kept his promise and wrote his text for the boy.

Dear Adam,

Crowley and I have had a rather unsettling and strange feeling these past few days. We are not sure yet if this comes from either of our sides, but we would recommend you to be particularly careful.

See you soon,

Aziraphale.

"You don’t need to sign these, you know?" Crowley reminded the angel just as he finished tapping his name.

"Yes, but I like doing it that way," Aziraphale replied. "It feels more personal, warmer, somehow…"

Crowley tried to roll his eyes, but instead gave Aziraphale one of these you-are-too-adorable-how-can-you-even-be-real looks, making the angel blush ever so slightly.

"But we are supposed to start by ‘Dear Adam’ or… 'Dear Crowley’… right?" Aziraphale asked with a questioning look painted all over his face.

"I suppose so," Crowley shrugged.

"Adam never starts his texts that way… he just straight up blurts out a 'hi’. It feels very impersonal."

"He’s a twelve-year-old kid and the former antichrist, I’m not sure we can so much rely on him to understand human behaviour."

"You’re right… do you think he’s reaching… adolescence already?" The angel carefully asked.

"Nah… this thing is later on, isn’t it?"

"I have never quite managed to define a precise age…"

"He’s not reaching that yet. Don’t worry, angel."

"I hope not. We’re barely finding back a rhythm since… all of it… I am not ready to face a second Armageddon."

Crowley chuckled in response, but the saddened expression on his friend’s face did not escape his watch. There was no need to acknowledge the pain, nor talk about the memories though. Armageddon and the trials that had followed had left a weight on both their shoulders, but even more so on Aziraphale. His trust on his side had been shattered into pieces, if he wasn’t fallen, he was out of Heaven all the same. He could never go back, even of his wings would keep their white shades. He might stay an angel, and maybe more so than most of those in heaven, but he would never again go home.

He never talked about it, at least not with words and sentences and not even with tears, but with distant stares set upon nothing, with longer silences than he used to let slip, through the melancholia that now coloured his features when he lost himself in his thought. For the rest, he was still the kind, selfless and with just a hint of a bastard, as Aziraphale had always been. But Crowley knew him enough to spot the signs. And moreover, he knew enough of the pain of being chased from home that his friend was going through now. He had been chased out of heaven, and now also from hell. Although, Crowley had to admit that his exile from hell came more as a relief than anything else. He wasn’t upset at all at the idea of remaining on Earth forever, as long as he had the right company…

Aziraphale’s phone vibrated and rang a merry little tune as Adam’s answer was received, and all traces of sadness disappeared from Aziraphale’s features as he read the text, a shy glint of excitement passing through his eyes.

"He says he’s fine, and he will be extra-careful. He says Anathema came to visit yesterday, how lovely! And he wishes us some good holidays at the beach."

He let out a content sigh.

"It will be lovely, indeed, I am sure of it."

"We could have gone to a better spot though…"

"Brighton is considered like a very famous place for the summer," Aziraphale argued.

"I was thinking more about Hawaii, Ibiza, Italy, the reefs of Australia…"

"But I’ve never been to Brighton…"

Aziraphale’s voice was almost a whisper, his tone apologetic. Crowley gave him a reassuring smile.

"I know, Angel. It’s alright, I guess. Next time, I’ll pick up the destination though."

They exchanged a smile that could only be described as tender, before simultaneously setting their gaze on the countryside passing by so fast.

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

Brighton in the summer was full of life, sun and ice creams. Aziraphale loved it. He was sitting on the beach, playing with a handful of little pebbles and eating a strawberry ice cream, watching the children play in the water and on the beach, a happy smile on his face. Wearing a pair of beige shorts, white shirt and a straw hat, Aziraphale was a fair contrast with Crowley’s form splayed on the beach as he drank in the sun, only wearing his sunglasses and swimsuit. A few meters away, a baby started to cry. A couple passed before the two friends, hand in hand, laughing.

Crowley quickly miracled the baby to stop crying, acting as discreetly as he could to avoid Aziraphale noticing.

"I must admit that this idea of yours was absolutely brilliant, Crowley," Aziraphale nodded in appreciation, giving the demon lying by his side a tender smile. "We did need some vacations."

"I knew you would like it," the demon replied without trying to hide his smile.

"I could get used to living like this. No missions from heaven, no soul to save, no destiny to balance… just… being there and looking at the world and living our lives."

The look Crowley gave him was both soft and a little sad. Longing. He moved his fingers a little closer to the angel’s hand, but didn’t reach for it. Instead, he played absentmindedly with a few pebbles too.

"Yeah… I could get used to that too."

"Wait! We must try sun cream!" Aziraphale wiggled a little with excitement as the idea passed through his mind and Crowley couldn’t help but to be both amused and fond of the angel’s excitement.

Aziraphale took out of his bag a bottle of sunscreen and started to apply it on his arms, finding it very funny.

"That was an invention from heaven, right?" Crowley asked, discreetly glancing at Aziraphale while he applied way more cream than needed on his right arm.

Crowley had not spoken of ‘their sides’ since the trials (or the lack of it). Instead, he used 'Heaven' and 'Hell' now. It had been a while since it didn't really make sense to him to do so anyway, but after the trials, the separation between him and both hell and heaven was thorough. The long process was completed the second Gabriel had told the person he loved most in this universe to 'just die already.'

Shut your stupid mouth and just die already.

The words still echoed through his bones every time he thought about that day, and every time the desire to strangle the archangel with his bare hands came rising through him.

He focused on Aziraphale again, who was now putting some cream on his face, white traces remaining on his nose making the demon smile the most tender smile. How could anyone who claimed to be good and serve the will of god want to hurt someone like Aziraphale? It made no sense… But then, Crowley reckoned that his vision of his best friend was rather biased.

Aziraphale though was still talking in terms of 'my side' and 'your side'. He acted like it was just a habit he couldn't get rid of, but the roots went deeper than this explanation. It was a way to connect to something he had lost. And even if he did not regret the choices he had made, if he had come to accept that heaven was not what he had thought it was all his life, if he was more often than not happy to live on Earth, he was still an angel, and Heaven, no matter how blank and cold and impersonal this place felt, was still his home. He knew he didn't belong there anymore, and yet he still yearned for the comforting faith that he was doing everything he did to reach something good, that he was doing the right thing, that every step he took and every decision he made would one day lead to a world that was a little brighter, because he had been there. Questioning heaven had meant questioning what he had done all these years too, and looking back, there were times when he had accepted orders given to him and carried them out without fighting back, and he regretted it. He regretted not having saved the people he could have helped simply because it was part of God's plan.

In contradiction with those regrets, he still believed in Her plan. He believed it would lead to something beautiful and happy and imperfect in the perfect sense of the word. His faith in God was still there, but his faith in Heaven and its system had been destroyed with the world almost dying.

"Of course. Your side pierced holes in the ozone… We had to come up with something."

"I'm not even surprised that the only thing they would think of in retaliation in the ozone breaking up there was 'let's cover the humans with some white sticky cream'."

"You should try it, it's fun!"

"It's not fun. And I'm not trying it."

"Oh, Crowley, please…"

"No way."

Aziraphale gave up, closing the bottle and reached for his bag, but Crowley heaved a desperate (and quite dramatic) sigh before the angel could reach the blue bag, and took the bottle from him.

"This is ridiculous."

He did put some sunscreen on anyway, and had to admit that it was rather… fun… He covered his torso and arms and legs and face, before handing the angel the bottle again.

"Here, are you happy now?"

"You have to put some everywhere."

"I have."

"Not on your back."

Crowley could see that he had not realized the implications of what he was saying, so slowly, with a careful tone, Crowley replied.

"I can't miracle it, Angel. That would not be very discreet on a beach, and I can't reach my back."

Aziraphale's stare was more intense for a moment, he struggled to swallow, his Adam's apple trembling, before he nodded, blush creeping up on his cheeks covered with white sunscreen.

"Of course," he mumbled.

He took the bottle, his eyes still fixed on Crowley's, and for a second, the demon thought that Aziraphale would say something. Say something about… sunscreen on his back… something he could barely turn into full thoughts without blushing and having his heart exploding. And for a moment, the thought lingered in Aziraphale for real as he guessed the strange shape of his friend's eyes beyond the dark sunglasses. Strange… he had never liked this adjective to describe Crowley's eyes. Beautiful had always been something closer to what he really wanted to express.

But he didn't speak. Instead, he put the bottle back in his bag this time.

Crowley lied back down on the pebbles and broke the uncomfortable silence with a joke.

"Anyway, I'm lying on my back here for the rest of the day, so it doesn't matter."

"For the whole day?"

"Why not? It feels good. Relaxing. You should try too. Lie down, Angel."

Aziraphale complied, lying on his back on his towel by Crowley's, and he had to admit that the feeling of the salty wind blowing on his face and hair mingling with the warmth of the sun kissing his cheeks and the happy sounds of the beach embracing him all made a lovely feeling grow in his heart. The place was so full of love and happiness, and he could feel it all.

"It does feel good."

Crowley hummed in agreement, but soon frowned.

There was something off. A strange feeling, something… something was amiss. Something was wrong. What was it? He wasn't sure. But there was something wrong with the world in Brighton right now. Something dark moved the city.

It was just a distant feeling, most like a distant shout through a loud crowd that one can guess and yet not truly hear. He couldn't pinpoint where it came from or what it was, but he knew it was there all the same.

He sat up in a jolt, trying to feel, to smell, to see, to identify by any mean necessary what was happening. But the beach around him was still the same. Still full of sun, and life and ice creams…

The feeling faded a little, just as Aziraphale was looking up at the demon, worried.

"Crowley? Is there something wrong, dear?"

"Did you… did you feel that?"

"I didn't feel anything out of the ordinary. Not more than this past week."

Crowley slowly nodded, the feeling disappearing, and he lied back down.

"Oh, it must be nothing, then. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

They both turned back their attention towards the sun, closing their eyes and letting its warmth run through their bodies. But it seemed that sometimes, the sun was warmer, and sometimes colder, it was a strange change in its heat, as if a cloud passed before the star and blocked its light.

However, there were no clouds in the sky that afternoon above Brighton.

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

Even Crowley would have easily admitted that the view from the restaurant was nice. The sun blazing its last rays of burning light upon the blue of the sea, painting the world in gold and red and purple in a strange spiral mirrored by the sea. The seagulls cried now and then, the salty wind blew through the town and dishevelled a little the demon's and his angel's hair as they ate dinner. Or well, Aziraphale ate, but Crowley had since long finished his oysters. Not that he minded sitting there in the lovely evening while Aziraphale ate. It was always pleasant to share a dinner with the angel.

"These oysters are delicious," Aziraphale said for at least the fifth time. "Are you sure you don't want one more?"

"No, thank you Angel, I'm fine. You can eat the rest."

"I'm glad you chose the hotel, it's a lovely place."

"We've only been there for like… five minutes," Crowley frowned. "We dropped our bags and went to the beach."

"It seemed very nice nonetheless. And I understand now that you had to miracle our free rooms."

"My treat."

The angel paused for a few seconds.

"It was thoughtful of you to book two rooms next to each other."

"Well… it would have been pretty stupid to book them at opposite sides of the building," Crowley carefully answered.

"Of course."

It was more than time to change the subject, at least so reckoned Aziraphale, and he took a moment to find a new subject to discuss.

Aziraphale breathed in the sea air, salty, a touch of the scent of seaweeds, warm sun and he could already guess the faint scent of the stars that were yet to appear in the sky for the night. But then he caught the perfume of something else. Something both foreign and familiar, and he couldn't really explain what it was, at least at the beginning.

He vaguely heard Crowley speaking, but didn't pay any attention to him. Instead, he kept on breathing in and out the air, focusing on this strange fragrance. It smelled both warm and empty, quite… pure in a way, but a little bit in a… an antiseptic way. Too clean. Too empty. Warm but cold as well.

And finally, he realized what it was. It was the smell of…

Crowley merely looked at him with raised eyebrows as Aziraphale jumped to his feet.

"Crowley… I think there's a problem."

"A problem? What is it?"

"I… I'm quite sure that I've smelled something… something that… felt like… Heaven."

**********************

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zxddy-panther · 5 years

Text

Real Love

College AU

T’challa x Black Reader

A/N: Hey guys I’m back with another story ayyye. Lol um i’m not sure if i wrote this one too well. I’ve been working on it for dayyyyys guys. I hope it’s decent. Also sorry about the spacing between paragraphs. Tumblr was saying that i reached my limit so i had to squeeze.

You pace back and forth in your college dorm nervously awaiting your best friend's presence. You needed to talk to him desperately about a topic that has been torturing you mind for a few months now. His advise was very much needed in this situation. The doorbell sounded, signaling his arrival. You ran up to the door and opened the door to your bestie of 6 years holding vanilla ice cream and some other sweet treats.

You sighed in relief, "Ugh Udaku. What would I do without you."

"Nothing. You would be practically hopeless" You laughed pushing him softly

The two of you headed to your bedroom and T'challa could already see your uneasiness. You walked with your eyes pointed towards the floor, fiddling with your fingers as you did so.

Finally reaching your room T'challa spoke on his observation. "Y/N are you alright."

You turned towards him and spoke. "Yeah I just really needed your advise on something. Um so you know Jalen right?"

T'challa rolled his eyes in disgust. He wasn't too fond of your boyfriend but never told you that because he would never intentionally hurt you like that. He just made sure that he wasn't in the same vicinity as that idiot.

"Yes. What about him?" he said in an annoyed tone

You paused for a second, trying to figure out how to say it.

"Well a few months ago he um...... actually cheated on me and-"

"He WHAT!" Tchalla exclaimed

"Yeah but" you fiddled with your thumbs some more. "He's been calling me and asking me to take him back, saying that he's really changed and all of that. I mean, should I?"

Tchalla's heart was beating 10 times faster than normal. His anger and hatred for Jalen just become more a lot stronger. He just doesn't understand why you would want him back.

"Y/N, are you hearing yourself? You know he doesn't love you."

"Ok Ok T'challa you can stop now." You murmured but he just kept going.

" Y/N, you don't deserve to be treated the way he treats you! That is not love! You need to be shown what real love-"

"T'challa! Stop." All was silent and tears began to well in your eyes. You moved across the room and turned your back towards him. "Can we not talk about this? I don't want to talk about it with you anymore."

"Ok then lets not talk." Fast footsteps was all that could be heard until you felt him slip his hands around your waist. The feeling sent a shock of electricity through your body, a foreign feeling to be exact. This was something you've never felt with Jalen and you wondered why. Once T'challa made you face him he looked at your lips enticingly and leaned into you slowly.

"Aye aye. What are yo-" . T'challa placed his hand at the back of your neck and pulled you into a passionate kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut. His soft lips massaged yours in a very slow and gracious manner. Your body was being set ablaze by his touch. Any section of his smooth skin that touched your own helped to spark a sensation that was unexplainable. He ran his hands down your body and hugged your body close to himself, like if he didn't hold on tightly to this moment it'll disappear. The sudden movement caused you to release a small moan against his lips. Tchalla pulled away from you slowly and sighed in relief.

"Tchalla. Wha-what was that." You would have never imagined that you'd someday be kissing your best friend. T'challa stood in front of you, staring at the floor.

"Y/N.." He paused and took a deep breath. I love you a-and I'm sorry for doing that. I just couldn't help myself. I've felt this way for a long time now but I just couldn't bring myself to tell you. Everyday it became a battle within myself to confess my feelings towards you. I'm also very sorry about what I said before. I shouldn't have spoken that way to you or about Jalen."

He bent down to retrieve his book bag from the corner of your room. With a sadden spirit, he began treading towards the door. "I'll just let myself out." T'challa reached for the door knob and headed out, but not before he could get one last glimpse of your face for the last time. "Good bye Y/n.." he whispered as he shut the door.

Your heart dropped from your chest and started beating in your fingertips. You blinked several times to make sure that you were not dreaming. Emotions were running wild and thoughts were jumping off the walls. Who do you love?

5 months ago

"Jalen why the fuck is my cousin blowing your phone up with nudes and text messgaes! What the hell!" You stormed into the living room where your lazy ass boyfriend laid playing on his second phone. Jalen quickly looked up at the sound of your heavy footsteps.

"Y/N what the hell are you talking about."

"My cousinnnn is sending nudes to your phone! You dumbass. Would like to explain to me how she got your number and why-" The phone chimed alerting a new message. "Oh here's and heres a new text. Lets read it. 'I want to feel you inside me again.' AGAIN?! You fucked my cousin Jalen?!" You shoved the phone in his face.

Jalen stood up and suddenly snatched from your grasp.

"Yo what the fuck did I tell you about being on my phone bruh! Should've taken your finger print off a long time ago." Jalen growled. Your blood was boiling and the rage began to build.

"Are you kidding me right now. You fucking cheated on me with my cousin of all people and you're worried about my finger print? So you're CHEATING cheating?!" Jalen looked up at you a scoffed, a smirk spreading across his long face.

"That's it! Im done." you screamed. "After all the years we've spend together! You go and do this to me?" Tears began to sting at your eyes. You ran to your room and began to pack up your things. There was no way in hell that you were staying here another second with this idiot. The muffed sound of Jalen's footsteps followed after you.

His voice come out in a deep growl, "Where the hell do you think you're going." You stood up and turned to face him.

"I'm getting the fuck away from here. You went lower than low Jalen. Do you really expect for me to sit up under this roof with you and act as if everything is ok? Hell no! There is no way I'm going to stay and let you treat me like this. I'm leaving."

He let out a dark and sinister laugh. "No you're not"

You scoffed, "Oh yeah? And who's gonna stop me." He stared you down as his eyes began to turn dark and before you knew it you were being lifted from the ground. Jalen had a strong grip around your torso and was persistent on keeping you in the room. "Let me go!" You kicked your legs rapidly and tried to pry his arms from your body. Your back hit the hard mattress in a matter of seconds. Jalen held your arms about your head tightly, leaving you unable to move your wrists.

"Mmm you're not going anywhere baby 'cuz you mine." He bent his head down and started licking at your neck, sucking the skin harshly. His hands ran up your shirt and felt cold against your warm flesh. He squeezed your breast and began sucking your sweet spot. The same gestures that were usually done during intimacy between the two of you used to be so pure, so full of love but now all you can feel is utter disgust and anger.

"Jalen move. I don't want to hurt you." You wiggled your body under his in an attempt to slide away. He pressed his body against your right leg to get you to stop moving. He picked his head back up to face your tearstained face.

"I'm never letting you go." He pressed his lips to yours in an unwanted kiss, forcefully sticking his tongue into your mouth and invading your space. With a swiftness you used your right knee to severely hurt his groin. Jalen let out a load groan and fell onto the floor, finally releasing you from his vice grip. You jumped up fast, grabbed your bag and headed for the door. Grabbing your keys from the counter you removed his dorm key from your keychain and removed your dorm key from his own key chain.

"Never fucking contact me again!" you screamed and slammed the door.

7 months ago

"Give it back Y/N. Im serious." Tchalla yelled as he chased you down the hallway of his dorm room. You ran into his living room giggling and sat yourself on his plush carpet. You held his mini journal high above your head, teasing him.

"You're not serious look at that big smile on your face" You laughed. He looked down at you and smiled.

"Just hand it over."

"Come get it." You continued to tease. Tchalla leaped on top of you, causing you to fall onto your back with laughter in your voice. Finally grabbing the book Tchalla hovered himself above you.

"Ha. Got i-" he didn't realize the vulnerable position the two of you were in until the games ended. Looking up at him made your heart begin to beat faster. There was tension in the air and you both could definitely feel it.

You couldn't deny your feelings for Tchalla had been developing during the years of friendship the two of you shared. He was always there for you and cared so much about you. He would never go a day without calling or texting you to see if you were alright, even if there was nothing wrong. His big heart was starting to make you fall for him.

He quickly removed his body from yours, allowing you to sit up as well. You stared at the back of his head for sometime before you spoke.

"Tchalla?'

"Y/N I-I'm sorry about that."

You found his shyness adorable as you began to smile.

"Its ok silly." You stood up and walked in front of him with your hand held out. Slowly lifting his head he looked back up at you. "Lets go eat. I'm starving." He took your hand and laughed.

Present

"What the hell am I doing." You asked yourself. "I have a man who actually loves me and I let him walk out the door." Your legs moved before you could even make them. You swung your front door open and looked down the hallway. T'challa was there, walking slowly with his head down until you called out to him.

"T'challa wait!" He turned and stopped in his tracks as he watched you run to him. When you reached him you jumped into his arms, causing him to stumble back as he, surprisingly, caught you.

"It was you. Its you...Its always been you." you said as you hugged him tightly.

"Y/N what are you talking about." Releasing him from your hug you looked deeply into his eyes. "I love you too T'challa"

His eyes lit up and his smile grew wide. Hearing those words from you brought life to his heart again. He brought his hands to the sides of your face, his warm touch bringing you comfort in the moment.

"May I." T'challa asked while still staring into you. "Yes you may" You giggled as he leaned forward to kiss you once more. The kiss got more heated causing T'challa to back you up onto the hallway walls. His hands went down to your backside, rubbing and sqeezing it softly. You broke the kiss in laughter and rested your forehead against his.

Breathlessly he said "Say it again"

"I really love you T'challa Udaku"

A/N: If you like it repost it. And please message me if you want to be part of my taglist☺️

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy @wakandaking12-blog @wakanda-4evr @sisterwifeudaku @tchalla-and-mbaku @wakandankings @wakandamama @melaninmarvel

#black panther #black panther imagine #zxddy imagine #chadwick boseman #tchalla

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michaelkeenan · 6 years

Text

tl;dr: this latest academic journal hoax is over-hyped and the reporting on it is terrible A trio of academics submitted 20 ridiculous papers to various feminist/gender/related-studies journals in an effort to show the journals to be ridiculous. 7 papers were accepted. The coverage has been gloating and the Twitter response has been gleeful. But the more I look into it, the less there is to it. This is troubling, because smart people like Paul Graham and Patrick Collison have retweeted about it. WSJ article

The Chronicle of Higher Education article

Google Drive link with all the papers and the review comments

Here's the trio's essay on it. At times, I think they're deliberately vague about which ridiculous papers were accepted and which weren't. Here's a paragraph of theirs:

We used other methods too, like, “I wonder if that ‘progressive stack’ in the news could be written into a paper that says white males in college shouldn’t be allowed to speak in class (or have their emails answered by the instructor), and, for good measure, be asked to sit in the floor in chains so they can ‘experience reparations.’” That was our “Progressive Stack” paper. The answer seems to be yes, and feminist philosophy titan Hypatia has been surprisingly warm to it. Another tough one for us was, “I wonder if they’d publish a feminist rewrite of a chapter from Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf.” The answer to that question also turns out to be “yes,” given that the feminist social work journal Affilia has just accepted it.

The parallel structure of the paragraph, with 'The answer to that question also turns out to be "yes"' elides the very different fates of the two papers. Hypatia didn't publish the Progressive Stack paper, and in fact they rejected it three times. But phrasing it this way, you can describe it in the same paragraph as an accepted paper, and many people won't remember the difference. (Here's a Harvard lecturer's thread, with 10,000 Twitter Likes, describing the Progressive Stack paper as accepted.)

The coverage has been even worse. Here's a Quillette piece on it, with a part that a Facebook friend quoted:

[Hypatia] invited resubmission of a paper arguing that “privileged students shouldn’t be allowed to speak in class at all and should just listen and learn in silence,” and that they would benefit from “experiential reparations” that include “sitting on the floor, wearing chains, or intentionally being spoken over.” The reviewers complained that this hoax paper took an overly compassionate stance toward the “privileged” students who would be subjected to this humiliation, and recommended that they be subjected to harsher treatment.

This isn't just wrong; if anything, the reviewers opposed the shaming technique. Here are the full review comments for all three rejections of the paper. I don't see any concern for an overly compassionate stance, or any recommendation of harsher treatment. When a reviewer does mention it, their concern is that it might be ineffective, and they're uncomfortable with it. Here’s a quote from the second rejection:

What are experiential reparations? Say more about this. Also, some of your suggestions strike me as "shaming." I’ve never had much success with shaming pedagogies, they seem to foment more resistance by members of dominant groups.

And from the same reviewer in the third rejection:

Find a place for the experiential reparations. This still makes me feel uncomfortable, because it’s shame-y and I’m not sure that student can see it otherwise.

After reading the reviewer comments, I'm very sympathetic to the reviewers, and I update toward thinking that their field is not a made-up illegible jargon-fest. They say things like:

"There are dozens of claims that are asserted and never argued for."

"The author promises to explore key terms and explain why they are applicable to the classroom. They introduce: epistemic violence, epistemic oppression, epistemic violence, testimonial smothering, privilege-evasive epistemic pushback, epistemic exploitation, testimonial injustice, hermeneutical injustice, willful ignorance, virtuous listening, and strategic ignorance. This is too much ground to cover!!"

"The scholarship is not as sound as it could be; that is, the basic structure of the argument is plausible and interesting, but the submission has far too many issues that get in the way of a clear and sound presentation of the author’s argument."

"I think these are basically good insights, they need to be argued for more clearly and not just asserted as true. They are interesting claims, say more, say how, say why, and don't just assert...Explain."

These aren’t possible comments from a field full of fashionable nonsense that doesn’t mean anything. I'm sad to contemplate the reviewers trying to help someone fix the mistakes in their paper, while the authors' intention is to slip through as many mistakes as possible. As the editor wrote in an encouraging cover letter:

At the same time ref #1 is encouraging about your revisions. You'll note that ref #1 says, for example, that it's your earlier improvements that have generated some of the new problems that need attention!

See also this Twitter thread by one of the reviewers for the Masturbation is Rape paper (which was rejected). It's sad - he rejected the paper, but wrote some encouraging things, and the hoaxers quoted the positive parts in their essay.

I haven't looked at all the papers in detail; this isn’t a thorough investigation of all of it. Maybe I happened across the least-bad papers and the most-misleading coverage first. I think the "fat bodybuilding" paper is just as bad as it sounds: "fat bodybuilding" would be unhealthy, unpopular, and no sport has ever been started by someone proposing it in a paper to an obscure journal.

But other accepted papers, I think, use a trick: invent some fake data of interest to the journal, and include a discussion section with some silly digressions. The journal accepts the paper because the core is the interesting data, and then the hoax coverage says that the paper is about the silly digressions. For example, the core of the dog park paper is a fake observational study showing that humans, especially males, are faster to stop male-on-male dog sexual encounters than male-on-female sexual encounters. I think that's fine; it is actually indicative of heteronormativity or homophobia or whatever. The paper also has an angle about canine rape culture, and that is indeed silly, but the paper is not best described, as The Chronicle of Higher Education did, as being "about canine rape culture in dog parks in Portland".

There are things to learn from this whole thing. I have a lower opinion of fat studies than I did before. But I have a higher opinion of the various fields that correctly objected to ideology-pleasing buzzword-filled digressions, and I wish the coverage noted that in equal measure. I get the impression you have to fake some interesting data to get much Sokal-style fashionable nonsense through, and even then, they'll catch most of it.

(Maybe I’m minimizing the ridiculousness of what did get past the reviewers. I think a younger, more idealistic version of me would have been more shocked by it, like the commenters at Hacker News who think that peer review should be able to detect fabricated data. My mild reaction is partly due to not expecting Idealized Science-level rigor of these fields to start with.)

And no-one should be saying anything about the rejected papers, except for praising the journals for rejecting them. If you ask someone out, and they say they're flattered but they only like you as a friend, don't gloat that they said that they like you. It's a rejection.

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stupidpianist · 6 years

Text

14 november 2018

It’s 16:48 right now and I’m in the music library. Idea for the Mastodon account to track ‘daily movements’ with more accurate timestamping is working well, really simplifies the process and I’m able to get a lot more precision/small details I would’ve neglected to include through that, but I’m feeling like doing today’s liveblog in a more paragraph-oriented format, sans timestamps?? ‘Throwing the timestamps out the window’ today, just feel like writing ‘off the dome’ in a less structured way, though still linear, hope that’s okay with y’all, if not, please feel free to skip today’s liveblog, please, please, come right this way, right this way, right on out of this paragraph and into whatever other thing you’re reading, pay no attention to little old me.

Woke at a semi-reliable time after ‘sleeping aggressively,’ I feel, really ‘hard’ sleep again. Woke with really heavy eyelids, which is unusual for me, usually if I’m tired I’ll just fall right back asleep, or if I know I need to wake up, I’ll feel groggy, but not tired, just ‘out of it.’ NOT TODAY, THOUGH!!! Today I was just all, whoa, it’s actually a struggle to keep my eyes open. Still somehow scrounged up the energy to make my way to the bathroom to brush, made some oatmeal, took a G Fuel ‘to the face,’ stared at my computer in catatonia until I had my meeting with one of my professors who’s helping me with recommendation letters. Oh, I also showered, yeah, that’s important, yes. Morning was spent in a state of complete stupor, entire head felt heavy and ‘anvil-like,’ I think, felt really cloudy.

Was the first actually cold day of the season, I think!! Which was exciting, I’ve been waiting for winter for a long time, if I can say something like that. Feels good to ‘don’ the ‘big puffy white jacket’ for another year. I’ve had that thing for, like, what, five, six years now at least?? Always said that once it finally wears out completely I’m going to get it repaired rather than buy a new one, that thing is staying with me ‘til the bitter end.’ Considered getting Five Hour Energy en route to campus but decided against it, and just walked while listening to Kero Kero Bonito while trying to regain some kind of cognitive ability before the meeting.

I guess as a way of ‘self-therapy’ for my unacceptably groggy state I decided on Knausgaard over Foucault to read while sitting outside the professor’s office, which is my favourite office. I wrote about it in a prose poem thing a while back, let me find it, wait:

‘My professor, Maggie, pinches at papers on her desk, and I notice a stunning array of mugs and thermoses that line this massive wooden table against her back wall. There’s one student in her class who sits in front of me and uses a MacBook Pro with a pink, soft-finish case. Without fail, at some point in every lecture, she’ll open a tab in Chrome, and start playing gigantic, full-screen, thirty-by-sixteen games of Minesweeper with such speed, efficiency, accuracy, that I’m more than blown away. On some days she managed a poker game simultaneously, and still continued to take detailed notes.

As I stand in Maggie’s office, Maggie glances up at me and says a few more things, and I thank her, then turn and leave. The floor is linoleum, and my boots make ridiculous, annoying, squeaky squelches.’

Could do with some severe editing, I feel… No longer feel ‘happy’ that I wrote this in much capacity, except for concept. Wait, let me just do a quick rewrite:

‘I’m noticing this stunning array of mugs and thermoses that line the massive wooden table against my professor Maggie’s back wall. There’s one student in the class who sits in front of me and uses a MacBook Pro with a pink, soft-finish case. Without fail, at some point during the lecture, she’ll open a new tab in Chrome, and start playing gigantic, full-screen, thirty-by-sixteen games of Minesweeper. Sometimes she managed a poker game simultaneously.

I’m standing in front of Maggie’s desk. Maggie glances up at me and says a few more things, and I thank her, then turn, and leave. The floor is linoleum. My boots make ridiculous, annoying, squelching sounds.’

Hm. Still ‘not happy with this,’ but it feels marginally better? I’ll come back to it, don’t want to ‘abandon’ this topic ‘quite yet,’ feel like ‘there’s something there,’ just haven’t really ‘teased it out’ at all.

So yeah, yeah, I met with Maggie, which took a few minutes. She informed me of the next Miltonmas, her annual celebration of Milton’s birthday, and also informs me that he’s turning 410 years old this year. Feel ‘tremendous levels of excitement,’ might ask A if she wants to go? Seems unlikely that she’ll want to for a myriad of reasons but I’m not gonna miss it unless I’m, like, severely ill.

Jesus as I’m writing this I still feel so so so out of it, probably had one too many beers last night for sure. Need to be up really early tomorrow for a work shift, so I can’t be going to bed late tonight, which is sort of, like, a blessing, so even if I wanted to stay up for whatever reason now I can’t.

After the meeting with Maggie, which went well, as they always do, Corrina OH YEAH WAIT, it’s definitely spelled Corrina unless she intentionally misspelled it on her laptop, I SAW HER NAME on her MACBOOK when we played DUNGEON WORLD LAST NIGHT yeah okay so now we know her REAL NAME AAAAAND we know how to SPELL IT yes so CORRINA was all like, ‘who wants poutine’ on the group chat with Michael, Corrina, Jasleen, Astoria, I, and I was all like, ‘yeah i want poutine’ and she was all like ‘okay meet me at the Starbucks in Eaton Centre and I went all ‘yeah okay.’ So my dumb butt walks to Eaton Centre only instead I go into Place Montreal Trust and I wait by the Starbucks, and Corrina goes all, ‘where are you’ and I go all ‘wait holy crap I’m such an idiot hold on I’m in the wrong building’ so I cross the street and Corrina finds me and we get this gigantic plate of poutine.

Sorry to report: did not taste very good. No no, probably, maybe, like, a light four out of ten? Disappointed. Second bad poutine in a row, need to pay Belle Province ‘a little visit’ to remedy the situation, need some good poutine in my stomach before I risk more bad poutine. So we finish the poutine and then decide to get caffeinated, something I really, really needed given my mental state of just complete BLAUGH, so we head to Starbucks and I completely overspend on a peppermint mocha. God those holiday drinks really GET ME, I love them SO MUCH, everything about the holiday season I ADORE. Tinsel, the music, the atmosphere, the ostensible snow, the wreaths, yeah yeah ALL OF IT, gimme, just-- gimme.

Then knew I needed to practice, even in my semi-conscious-but-more-verging-on-unconscious state, so I say bye to Corrina, who heads back to work, and I take the trek to McLennan, where I check out a copy of Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du mal. There’s an amazing website which features a myriad of English translations of each poem, so I’ll be able to cross-reference all of them whilst trying to keep up with the original French. Feel excited to be ‘getting in on this’ finally, haven’t actively read poetry in a really long time, now that I think about it…

Side note: the computer that I used, or, rather, the section of McLennan in which the computer I used was in smelled like poop. Not even like body odour or anything, like, straight up feces. Was really bad, that’s when I decided I’d just use the computer to see where the Baudelaire book was, and then ‘get the heck out’ and not update the liveblog, would save that for the ‘safety’ of the music library, which I mostly prefer to McLennan anyways.

Is now 17:16. Blasting Igorr through headphones, really don’t want to go practice but know it’ll be good, or, at least, like, mildly fun. Maybe I’ll throw some Schubert under the fingers, or something?? I don’t know, I don’t have many days until I need to record prescreenings, but I’m feeling confident, maybe I’ll take a ‘rest day’ and focus on pieces I don’t need to prepare?? Keep the pieces that I need to record’ fresh’ and not just repeated to hell?

OH OH I know what I’m gonna do. Gonna print out some Thalberg to read. Never get tired of Thalberg. Thalberg, my love. Oh-so-neglected. Hahahahah I’m just spouting nonsense right now, need to leave the computer before my brain further devolves. OKAY onto the PRACTICE ROOMS see you later for the first inaugural ‘Soundtrack of the Day’

20:40: Watching livestream of Megan Boyle reading entirety of Liveblog over ~52 hours without stopping; will not be updating this liveblog any more tonight, please also tune in to the stream, link in Megan’s Twitter

#liveblog #blog #writing

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