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warm home wip 💜
KAI I THINK I HAVE HAD A FUCKING BREAKTHROUGH!!!!!!!!!!
so my outline for Warm Home, following the Hero's Journey cause i wanted to try out my writing skills on that, has been empty as fuck because i couldn't figure out anything halfway through Act 2 and beyond. bUT I REALIZED THE PROBLEM IS: THE ENEMY!!!! the last thing i had written was that there were no enemies, bUT THAT'S NOT TRUE!!!!! AND I. FINALLY. FUCKING. WROTE :
Wen Jia stood at the edge of Biling Lake, deceptively calm waves lapping at their boots, and breathed in the refreshing mountain air. They absentmindedly wondered about the waterborne abyss that had been driven to Caiyi Town and if it would reach out to grab those on its shore, though at the moment it surely would be distracted by Lan Xichen’s ongoing effort to purge it.
“You asked to meet?”
Wen Jia tilted their head to where Meng Yao had appeared beside them. He was also facing the open water but mirrored their action to look back. Exchanging letters had revealed a different side of Meng Yao to Wen Jia, only making them more determined to see their hopes through.
“Yes,” Wen Jia smiled, “Have you heard how two entourages had visited Gusu? Nie and Wen?”
Meng Yao raised an eyebrow. “Does that have anything to do about your intent to help me get money, status, or knowledge?”
Wen Jia coughed awkwardly into their hand at the reminder of their first meeting and looked back over the lake. “Ah, it’s all an ongoing effort to improve everyone’s lives.”
“By your hand?”
“I am doing my best to keep my hand as only a little push,” Wen Jia said, pantomiming like how one may pat a horse to get it to move. “Many others are more clever and capable than me; if I get too involved, then the world isn’t…” isn’t the world I had loved when it was just fiction? Isn’t what I would expect it to be, therefore unable to affect it properly anymore? Isn’t what?
Wen Jia smile fell, melancholy pressing down on their shoulders. Meng Yao politely remained quiet while they silently pulled themself back together.
“I must confess, I am worried about what the world will be like once our enemy is gone.”
“Our enemy?” Meng Yao asked.
Wen Jia leaned in closer to whisper. “Sect Leader Wen and his supporters, like Sect Leader Jin.” His eyes widened; Wen Jia returned to their upright posture admiring the mountain lake view. “Well, one could argue our true antagonist is a never ending thirst for control, something I am working on myself. Hence the keeping out of it, you see. Don’t want the rules of the universe to target me, after all.”
Meng Yao fell silent, his breath as deceptively steady as the lake, his face a carefully crafted blank slate.
“If I give you the opportunity for you to find yourself another way, will you swear to remember who our enemy is?” Wen Jia asked.
Meng Yao finally spoke. “And by that, you mean not harm you or those you love?”
“The trouble with that is I love most everyone,” Wen Jia sighed, their smile returning. “But yes, something like that.”
“I want to be a part of what you are planning,” Meng Yao said.
“Sure, I can loop you in with Wen-jie.” Wen Jia waved their hand in feigned nonchalance. They recalled having mentioned Meng Yao to her before; hopefully she wouldn’t be too bothered bringing him in sooner than they hoped, especially since it’s possible Nie Mingjue may remember the impression of Meng Yao from the visions. “Do you swear?”
“I swear to remember our enemy and not bring purposeful harm to our allies.”
“Hm,” Wen Jia acknowledged, with full intent to twist that definition to include Meng Yao, and handed him a slip of paper. “Go to this inn tonight; there you can meet with Lan Sect Heir Lan Xichen. I trust you can figure out the rest to your preferences.”
Wen Jia winked and Meng Yao pushed them, with enough strength to move them but without any malice. The transmigrator couldn’t help but laugh and spun away with a twirl of their robes, disappearing back to the Cloud Recesses so they could finish the lectures off in relative peace.
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7
someone keeps walking across my keyboard-- Phoebe how do you keep finding these buttons how did that 7 get so big on my end.... she had put me in airplane mode too
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i was reminded by @the-wip-project post that i forgot an entire month again, but since i wrote today and surpassed 1400 words!!
...realizing we are counting our weeks differently since that post said "starting today", but still! i want to carry on the recent "more fired up than typical" to complete a WIP :>
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wildlife rehab au pleeease
I DIDNT REALIZE THERE WAS A GIF WHEN I SAW THE ASK IN MY NOTIFICATIONS ADKGAKJGHDAJG
aahhh i don't know which snippet to choose because i swore i shared earlier scenes, but i cant find them and i didn't queue to my writing side. smh. however, i did get to write a little bit more thanks to this WIP game yesterday and i needed to put in more thought-notes that @altruistic-meme helped me with, so lemme share that (brief context: Neil is a shapeshifting fox, originally just cause but now i have Plot Reasons mwahahaha)
“If you get the chance to talk with him, will you leave?”
Neil looked up from where he had been collecting clover for the Canada (“Not Canadian!” Nicky had said) geese patients to find Andrew looking down at him, hands pocketed in his worn jeans. He didn't need to clarify who Andrew was talking about.
“Depends on what he says.” At Andrew's continued stare, Neil added on, “If I have to leave, then I'll go.”
He couldn't read the expression Andrew was making, but Neil's dormant fox senses were well aware of the tension the human was holding in his body.
“The baby opossums will be ready for release at the end of the week, and Kevin wants to film it for the center's blog,” Andrew said, voice steady despite the clenched muscles. “You can join that release.”
“Will you be there too?” Neil asked, absentmindedly brushing the dirt from his gloves. He had realized early on that the patients were more skittish about the food if he prepared them without gloves, so there was rarely a moment he went without.
“There are about five opossums and this is your first release.” Andrew gave him a look, this one Neil understood fine: And you're not going to be with Kevin unsupervised.
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the formatting isn't as clear on my mobile with it's accessibility settings, but i tried 👍
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Oo a snippet from fAMily?
i haven't opened this WIP in a hot second (not since two trauma processing agos) and i'm kinda emotional at how much i've written for it and just haven't stringed together :'> look at this, there's 11k words here
.....ya know what, i wanna do several related snippets. i don't know how much i will rewrite/use into the version where i use the same characters but put them back into the Star Wars universe where they were half-inspired from (the other half being Batman fanfics), and i don't know how much i may edit for the final version, but this stuff is even more personal than the texture poetry i posted so it may be a while to finish this one
[1]
Yet as even more time had gone by, one day their hand ceased to fit. Kid frowned, their fingertips brushing over the edges instead of how it always fit perfectly. They scrunched their fingers back, and their hand fit in the print again, but it was no longer perfect.
They sat back on their heels and looked out over the hexagons that had once seemed so large were now medium in size. Alarmed, Kid ran back inside directly to the kitchen table where their birth mother was organizing a lot of papers.
“Mom! Mom, the cement shrunk!!”
Mom looked up, annoyance flickering across her face before settling on amusement.
“Baby, you're the one who has grown,” she said.
Kid frowned as they thought it over. They clasped onto the side of the table opposite Mom and found they could see over it without having to crane their neck.
“Oh,” Kid said.
[2]
Then something even more horrific happened: their body began to change into that of an adult's.
People praised Kid on how their body was changing, but it only made Kid uncomfortable. It was a different discomfort than learning they were inherently evil. This was a violation that spiked from inside, a poison that poured out and sat like an uncomfortable layer on their skin. Kid didn't know what to do about that, but they tried to find their own words and went to their parents, who were relaxing on the couch together after their work.
“Mom, I'm confused.” Kid said. “I don't want to be a boy, but I'm not a girl either. What am I?”
“Everyone feels that way,” Mom said. Dad seemed uninterested in the conversation and started to idly press buttons at the living room screen. Kid frowned in frustration.
“Then what makes you a girl?”
“Because I am.”
Kid shook their head and left the room, glancing back to see how their parents made eye contact with each other. Kid couldn't understand the expression on their faces, one of furrowed brows and frowning lips, like concern but fearful and angry. So they stopped thinking about it.
[3]
“But how will you get out?” Kid asked. “Where will you go?”
“You know me,” Robin smiled. “I will find a way.”
Kid felt a pressure in their chest, a sinking feeling of their weight pinning them to the hard cushions below. “Can I come with you?” they asked, hopeful.
Robin reached out a hand —thankfully not the one already holding Kid's hand— and brushed the bangs from their regulation haircut away from their eyes. “I don't know.” Before Kid could turn away, Robin hurried on, “But if my plans works, I will come back for you.”
One day, Robin disappeared. The teachers never said anything about it, but the Warden's sermons on obedience increased in intensity for about a month afterwards.
Kid sat where they used to huddle together in the rooftop garden and waited a full year before accepting that Robin wasn't coming back for them.
[4 SEMI-RELATED AS AN APOLOGY]
“I can offer them a place to crash,” Frost volunteered with a slight raise of his hand. New-Winter and Finch spun around to stare at him in disbelief. “What? I can move some stuff out of the second room.”
“There's more to taking care of a teenager than giving them a place to sleep,” New-Winter pointed out.
“They can run around the park,” Frost added. Finch dropped their head in one hand and visibly sighed, their modulator silencing it.
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"triangle is the strongest shape" cause it's TRUE #triangleguyforlife
i fear i may be unable to enjoy many The Mandalorian fics while writing this because i am so entrenched in my own idea that the covert isn't fluent in Mando'a.
BUT on the topic of triangles, i think Mandalore would benefit having 3 Rulers focused on different aspects of their society instead of one Mand'alor: one for civics, one for war, and one for spirituality. this could easily worsen things tbh but also, consider that they haven't been well united under one ruler anyways and a council of clan leaders can only do so much (tho they should be there too).
a shiny introductory snippet of what i am calling the Polar Opposites of Din's Covert, and also my OC Veshok Itera (preferes Mandalorian "kaysh" pronoun in Basic) who is their Paz:
“A traditional armorer is vouching for them, and every Mandalorian helping with the rebuilding effort will be receiving armor from the Great Forge,” buir explained in Mando’a. The aliit always spoke in that tongue, a challenge when kaysh was younger but Veshok by now was familiar enough to have no problems comprehending, yet still kaysh couldn’t understand.
“We are armored by our courage,” Veshok quoted Itera’s recently dead alor. Kaysh buir had stepped up for the role when everyone else had hesitated, a decision Veshok was now dreading. “We don’t need their armor, especially from ones who have lost their way.”
“Eat your insult!” Buir slammed their hands on the table, the uncharacteristic outburst jolting Veshok from kaysh fury. “These Mandalorians have honored armor much as we have honored language. They need us, and the history we have written, as much as we need them.”
Veshok couldn’t speak. Buir sighed and stepped back.
“Mandalorians are stronger together. We need to rebuild so that the next time an enemy appears, we won’t lose our family again.”
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wildlife rehab au <3
thank you for giving me the opportunity to open my WIP cause i had completely forgot that i had resolved the last thing i was angst-ing about writing and even have notes on future scenes... the fuck... well i do still have a note of "wrap this scene up" BUT i think i can just end the road trip here:
Andrew tapped the steering wheel twice before giving a shrug with one shoulder. “A good Samaritan decided he could take care of a wild animal himself. By the time he gave up and came to us, the squirrel was half-dead and severely dehydrated.” He tilted his head to give Neil a quick look. “Whatever Matt told you, I didn’t cut him.” His eyes returned to the road. “I knifed his car.”
Neil snorted, then quickly covered his mouth to hide whatever smile may be on his face.
unless others have ideas on how to "wrap this scene up" but i think i'm gonna write this opossum release idea...
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hyped
of course i have made a Twi'lek OC for this WIP and i am now tryna see if folks have already put a Mandalorian helmet with lekku in mind in MandoCreator, and i just--

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looks like my last word count update was halfway through February. last few weeks, it's been hard having thoughts but unable to translate them into words. i've been trying though and that's been pretty swell :>
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i saw this on reddit and knew who i had to send it to
akjdhgkjdahg okay but like, it may have taken me 3 tries to defeat the Darth Vader boss battle but Rick the Door Technician has ruined me forever. in fact, i've even written him in as the best friend in the kink story that originally began with intent to be all OC but there are just so many Star Wars free real estate:
Benji sipped xyr latte very slowly, but the ridiculously large mug couldn't hide xem from the judging stare of xyr dear friend. Xe carefully lowered the drink and raised xyr eyebrows.
“You look like you're about ready to chase me down with a big stick,” Benji quipped.
“Only if you were my greatest enemy,” Rick promised in a grave tone before hopping back to accusatory. “But don't distract me with the suggestion that I'd be the coolest boss battle ever—”
“You'd die in one hit,” Benji drawled.
“Rude— not the point!” Rick waved his hand to erase the conversation. “Point is, you didn't even ask that DILF for his comm?!”
“Technically not a dad—”
“Technically I don't care,” Rick briefly mimicked Benji's pitch. “You said he's hot, he's got kids, that's practically a DILF in spirit. And,” he tapped the table at every word, “you didn't get his comm!”
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i love that i got two comments specifically on the repeated sentiment "Mission objective: move forward"
ain’t that just the way it goes huh. @little-kai372
THIS IS SO PERFECT. how did u summarise the whole journey of the fic so well in one sentence. I will be adding this to my own vocabulary immediately. @phereshift
eheh (๑˃ᴗ˂) i love this story, lemme link again + the art that inspired it

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"Oh let me just write a brief intro, maybe an outline for worldbuilding on the kink fic," Milo said in week 6.
"I probably won't write a lot but I should at least put down the like, 50 words coming to me as a later prompt for this sex scene," Milo said in week 7.
Weeks 6 and 7:
#DOES IT EVER GET EASIER FOR SMUT WRITERS?? IT CATERED EXACTLY TO MY TASTES AND THAT MADE IT BOTH EASY AND DIFFICULT TO WRITE#word count progress
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when i say the Kaleidoscope chapter pretty rough is everything i want from clone fics. well!! not an exaggeration alxhakdjs
...could have more hurt but it's... pretty rough for them as is, tbh
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hmmmmm i like having word count goals, cause it scratches my brain... but i also don't like the feeling that i need to reach em...
how about this (ft. the gray "rest" replacement too i forgot about)
akdhgkjdahg....actually, i might do this for real...
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“We’re going to die for them. I should at least get to look at something pretty while I’m still here.”

i know i wrote that, but it fucks me up... well, Chapter 3 (where this is said) of my winged!clones story is up
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