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creation-help · 1 year

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Advice and tips on how to make your character feel more genuine/real

- Pettiness and shallowness. Obviously it can manifest in different ways, but IRL everyone has at least one or two little things that they're a bit surface level and "Just because!" about. Be it clothes, how they do certain rituals, what color m&ms they prefer ect ect. It can be little details or even major characteristics, and depending on which (and what) they are, it can be really telling about the character! Plus, it just adds a little extra depth and fun. Some examples including but not limited to: Being fussy over getting their clothes wet or dirty, only preferring some items because they look good, insisting on doing some action or tradition exactly a certain way, disliking an aspect of a thing or a person because they just don't like it, and so on. Obviously the big worldview points like morality and beliefs are very important, but when you've figured those out, take a moment to think about the smaller, everyday things your character feels about the world around them. No matter how good or wise a person is, they'll still always have some little thing that they can't give some profound noble answer to. Use this to your advantage to explore your character's shortcomings or flaws!

(In the same vein, Pet peeves is another detail that can flesh out a character!)

- How does your character perceive things? What do they notice about people first? How would they talk about, or describe another person to someone, if asked? How would they describe themself? And why? Just some things to consider. If your character maps out all the little details and deeply analyzes everything they see, it'll show in their interactions very differently than, for example, if they have the perception of a cabbage and are more oblivious than the love interest in a teen drama that the writers are stretching out for five seasons for no reason. Ykno.

- Additionally: what's their opinion of the people around them? Or if you've already mapped that out, what's their opinion of people they've never met before, or people who aren't in their immediate bubble, friends of friends, relatives of relatives, neighbours, or celebrities, mythical/historical figures and so on. Delve into hypotheticals sometimes, it can help you exercise your knowledge of the character. Even if none of these encounters or situations would happen in Canon.

- I'm sure you've already figured out what your character is most passionate about, ykno, whatever drives the story and impacts their relationships with other characters. But how about stuff they really don't care to think about? Just shrug? Not interesting? Doesn't pay attention to this? What is low on their priorities? It doesn't have to be negative (but can be!), it can just be "Meh", or something your character hasn't even noticed before, simply because it's not in their thoughtscape to think about.

- Does your character have any of those "What? I thought everyone did that/thought that/was like that!" - things? What do they take for granted, or weren't aware isn't a universal experience? Did they have a wildly different experience with something that most other characters hadn't even thought of? And yes I understand this is good for exploring trauma and other angsty things, but besides the obvious, think about maybe something that could be related to your character's species/living environment/abilities/opinions ect. This is great for exploring cultural differences, and anything that takes place in a fantasy setting. Very useful for villains and heroes alike! It's insightful. Everyone has small little perceptive differences or big and small thoughts that for some reason just haven't been properly challenged yet. Or brought up even. For whatever reason. Explore maybe what that reason could be, and figure out why it's been unchallenged for so long.

- Imperfections. Little divergences. It's fully possible to write a compelling and genuine feeling character using just archetypes, if you really explore them deeply. And whether you're doing that or not, think about the lines and molds you've set your character into, and let them spill out of them a little bit. Can be one huge aspect or one teensy detail, but make some diversion. Some crack in the picture. Doesn't have to be a flaw but can be! Just have some little aspects that set them apart and make the character themself. Get weird with it. Getting weird is one huge way you can truly make a character stand out and feel more unique and, oddly enough, genuine and real. Actual people have little oddities or things that don't line up with everything else about their person. And again it doesn't necessarily have to be anything big or shocking, in fact I'd argue it's even better if sometimes it's just a small, very ordinary, humanizing detail. Maybe unexpected, or maybe just something that doesn't factor into the surface image your character has. Think about characters similar to yours that you see often. What traits do they all share, or most usually have? Think about the kinds of people your character is inspired by. What are they often like? Make a diversion from that. Make multiple even? It can be the most random thing but think about it, even if you threw a dart at a wall of sticky notes, really chew out what this little thing says about your character. And focus on little cracks, imperfections, diversions and other odd details of your character. Over time they can grow bigger, or maybe not.

- Keep a clear picture of who your character is. Sounds obvious but I'll elaborate. Your character will obviously change and develop over the time you're working on them and whatever story events take place but I think it's very important to keep in mind who they fundamentally are. Basically I'm saying that try to keep them in character, yes even if you did drastic character development, you can still show that it's the same person in other ways even if one of their core traits was flipped. Be aware of what things will never change about your character no matter what they'd go through. Keep some consistency. Consistency matters alot in making a character seem genuine and, ykno, a good character. Even if that consistent trait is that they're inconsistent! The character can be that, yes, but as their creator, you should still keep sights of what's consistent for this character, you feel? If your character is a glunk of slime that slips out of it's container constantly and subsequently molds into whatever situation it gets put in, that's not really a character, that's.. Idk, plot device..? I know this may sound contradicting to my previous point but I fully think that, and this one can and should coexist.

You need to simultaneously be aware of the ways your character will differ from something and be fluid, and the ways your character will not bend, and cannot become. It's simply a matter of knowing their boundaries and restrictions, knowing which way they can lean and which way not. Obviously this'll be up to you as their creator, bc yeah you're allowed to drastically edit your character if you feel like it's for the better, but try to commit to that change then. Don't let the character slip from your hands, or let the story bend them into whatever shape it needs to make the plot go forward. Your character, and more importantly you, should be in control of that.

I emphasize the point of you controlling your character and not the other way around also. I've seen some character owners slip into "Well it's just what the character would do! I can't help it, it'd be out of character if they didn't do x!" even if the thing is completely awful, doesn't fit, or would ruin an aspect of the story. A smart writer will know how to work with your character's traits in a way that prevents them from running off the tracks and becoming their own little gremlin, while also complying with the story. Respect your character's.. Character, while also respecting yourself and the point of the story. This is even more crucial if it's a roleplay character, by the way..

I'm just saying, find ways to write the story in cooperation with your character. That means knowing what situations to avoid and which ones to steer for, in order to keep your character functioning with the plot and other characters. Sometimes you simply have to prevent some event from happening, or some characters from ever meeting, for the sole reason that it wouldn't make the story work the way it should. Or the way you want it to. You hold the pencil, be aware of what that means

#writing advice #Writing tips #character advice #writblr #Writing #character writing #Oc tips #Oc advice #character exploration #characterization help #writing help #writing tips #Help #important #story building

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bloodycyrano · 4 months

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I want to lore dump about my BG3 storyline and OCs so bad, but at the same time I don't want to release any information before it would come out in the future chapters of my fanfic, so to stave off the dark urge, here's.... 🥁🥁🥁

Team Tadpole doing sweet things for each other part 2!

Sometimes, when Astarion has trouble resting at night, Gale will stay up with him and play chess- They started with card games, but Astarion cheats like a fox. He still cheats at chess, but not as often.

Karlach probably notices when her comrades are in pain after battle, and will hug a sack of rocks until they heat up to make a sort of makeshift heating pad for sore muscles.- Bonus points, She'll borrow some scented oils from Halsin to add an element of aromatherapy.

Gale has 100% done talis card readings for Team tadpole when they deal with heavy emotional stuff, if only to help them find their path forward. Maybe he isn't the best at verbal comfort, but magic is one thing he knows he can use for at least some benefit.

I feel like Gale also notices when people aren't dealing well with things, and will purposefully annoy Durge so they have someone to pick on and hopefully feel a little better afterwards. They're definitely the sort of friends that pretend to hate each other, but are there when you need them. Durge definitely brings out his petty side, but its all in good fun. Usually.

While maybe they have a bit of a rocky relationship, I also believe Durge would indulge Gales special interests and let him ramble about things, because they know what it's like to have to shut up to make other people happy. I also feel like Gale would return the favor and deliberately ask about weird, macabre things so that Durge actually has an excuse to bring up topics that interest them.

Wyll has a knitting hobby. You probably wouldn't expect it, but he definitely does. And he's really really good at it, too. He uses every holiday as an excuse to gift people things like socks, scarves, mittens, etc. And I mean EVERY holiday. Earth day, valentines day, national owlbear day (Which is totally not something he made up as an excuse to give people their presents early), etc. The thing is, he notices when people complain about their socks getting worn from traveling, and gets random ideas for gifts at 3 AM, and then spends the rest of the night knitting. He has also been known to make cute little knitted outfits for the group pets in the winter, because he thought Scratch was getting cold.

Adding onto this, Lae'zel is the only person Wyll is willing to go to for a blunt and honest opinion on the gifts he makes before he gives them. Lae'zel doesn't take this lightly, either. While maybe she doesn't show it, she takes this very seriously and is somewhat honored that Wyll came to her instead of anyone else.

Shadowheart tends to replenish Wylls yarn reserve without telling him as well. She asks Lae’zel what colours he's run out of, and then sneak some extra spools into his pack. Wyll still doesn't know who's been doing it, but he's thankful nonetheless. And it's one thing the cleric and the gith can actually be somewhat peaceful about.

Durge doesn't take all of their kills lightly. When it comes to someone they actually respected, there's a ritual they perform afterward that they read about in Withers old temple. They'll grind bone and ash into ink and take time to write out the names of those they respected, and bury it with the bodies. As well as little offerings as well. It isn't a short process either.. Durge will spend the entire night locked in their caravan burning incense, praying their name to Jergal in hopes that the spirit will find rest, and doing little things in honor of the dead.- It isn't hard for team tadpole to figure out when Durge has taken the life of someone they held a genuine respect for, and will be careful not to disturb them, or leave bones or herbs/flowers on the steps of their caravan. Karlach and Astarion will occasionally come to check on them. While maybe it doesn't happen often, it does happen. Withers was particularly surprise to begin receiving prayers after all this time, but it strengthened a sort of bond between the two.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 durge #dark urge #gale dekarios #baldurs gate tav #lae'zel #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #karlach #scenarios #writing prompt #bg3 scenarios #bg3 withers #jergal

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cosmics-beings · 7 months

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okay so finally my unpopular opinions on the starscream es episode.i liked the starscream episode as you know, because it was nice and important for his abuse to be validated. and it was even more libearting to see a Steve Blum voiced starscream get his justice because of how poorly tfp starscream was abused and it was made into a joke and seen as something he 'deserved'.

but I've been wanting to also just share my critique on it for some time! it's a little critical, so just putting that out there if you don't like earthspark or starscream critique you should skip over this. I've spoken a lot of positive things about the episode so these are just my thoughts. so warning, heavy critique.

my main issues are fandom's treatment of hashtag, and people using the episode to perpetuate the 'perfect victim' mentality on starscream and forget that he's flawed and nuanced.

starting with hashtag, i really don't like how a lot of fans make hashtag "mother" starscream and act almost as if she's supposed to be his caretaker, when she is a minor, who is facing her own trauma. i think she was needed to validate starscream and to make him feel that his own abuse is real and that it isn't his fault for getting abused.

but i also think people took that and decided to a.) make hashtag his mother figure and b.) use it to excuse the way he treated and was borderline abusive to others (i.e him kicking his trine mates when they were on the ground, and since they were female character no one actually cared).

i think hashtag was needed as a completely neutral source to make starscream's own trauma's validated and to show the viewers that his abuse isn't funny, and that just because megatron is 'good' doesn't mean that it's excusable and that starscream has to like him. moreso, it's important to show that children can also call out and understand abuse. that was why hashtag needed to do it. it doesn't matter how much megatron was a part of her family and practically an uncle figure to her, he still abused someone and she still recognized that.

BUT at the same time, i don't like the idea that the fandom props his emotional trauma and responsibility on HER. in a lot of fics, aus, etc, hashtag is usually made to be starscream's caretaker without any sort of care for her or her trauma. and i think people forget hashtag is a child, shit some people ship them (ew) because they like to make her the one to care for him. Hashtag is a child, and is completely innocent and he own trauma should be validated and honestly, discussed as much as starscream's. People don't really see her or let her exist outside of Starscream. Her trauma is at large, ignored by the fandom and if people care about it, it's only to validate what starscream went through, and never to have him actually caring about her. that's why i like to write fics where HE helps her, because she is still a child and he is an adult.

ths isn't talking about fan content where starscream is literally hashtag's father figure, which i enjoy. i like when content portrays hashtag being a kid, and starscream being a parental figure to her, but that tends to be a small majority of hashtag and starscream content.

and this brings me to the perfect victim mentality that is harmful in fandom spaces but i see it's impacting starscream.

the perfect victim mentality is this idea that in order for an abuse victim's abuse to be validated, they have to be perfect and innocent. they can do no wrong and even their own actions need to be pacified or excused because if they are one bit of flawed or problematic, then that ruins their victim status.

this is why tfp wasn't seen as a victim, because he was evil, he was abusive, he was dangerous, and the writers made a choice to perpetrate the thought that all abuse victims MUST be perfect and if they aren't, then they deserve their abuse.

this is what's happening to es starscream, but the opposite way.

starscream isn't responsible at all for the abuse megatron put him through, and no amount of think pieces are going to change that. but hashtag telling starscream that his abuse isn't his fault, isn't an excuse for how he's treated and abused others. he was a fascist, a war criminal, committed multiple genocides, and in various continuities abused others both before and after he met megatron.

again he was even physically kicking his trine mates and that implies that it's a common occurrence and it's happened before. hashtag also pretty much confirmed it. i know BCS skywarp and nova are women you guys don't really care about them, but the way starscream was treating them wasn't okay.

he is still an abuse victim, but that doesn't excuse his treatment of others.

A lot of people tend to use megatron's treatment of starscream to excuse Starscream's abusive action toward others. Meaning there is this idea that because Megatron abused Starscream, then we can't really hold him (starscream) accountable for his actions toward others, and that is false. Yes, Megatron abused starscream but that doesn't give him a slap on the wrist or an excuse for things he did! And if you are trying to excuse Starscream's actions because of how megatron treated him, then you are also saying that we can't hold megatron accountable for how he treated starscream.

because megatron abuses starscream in response to his own trauma and abuse. and even if he does, he still needs to be called out for it. JUST as starscream should be held accountable for his actions.

Starscream still is a villain, he still did terrible awful things that i hope earthspark addresses. He still caused genocide, because he could, he still killed, because he wanted to! again, it was implied that he was abusive to his crew, if hashtag didn't call him out, he would've been abusive to her because he was going to use her as a hostage. earlier i saw someone trying to explain and excuse that starscream wasn't a problematic person because 'the other seekers are following him' but they had no choice. and then this person really tried to act as if him being 'toxic' to them isn't problematic and that's the issue. you can't cherry pick what is and what isn't abusive because it's a character you like, even if that character is a victim.

the perfect victim mentality skews people's perspective on abuse and makes it seem like you have to be innocent to be an abuse victim. and it scares me because a lot of people have tricked themselves into believing that starscream is a good person who doesn't need redemption and hasn't done anything wrong. and I'm terrified because when he actually starts to act like Starscream, fandom is either gonna turn on him or try to excuse his villainous actions.

So that said, those are my main two critiques with the starscream earthspark episode.

hashtag isn't starscream's mother but it seems the majority of the fandom went with it. and ties her worth and her importance to him.

and likewise, starscream is an abusive victim but he isn't perfect, and that's okay. abuse victims don't have to be perfect to have their abuse taken seriously and i don't think that's realized enough in fandom spaces.

#starscream #hashtag malto #transformers #transformers earthspark #tf earthspark

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ryo-apologist · 2 months

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Racer! Link

Racer! Link x Reader

CW: Smut, Minors DNI, I will block your ass, author knows nothing about racing and it shows

AN: Yes, this is about that Link. The one with the elf ears, says "Hyah!". Yeah I'm a Linked Universe Nerd. Sucks to be y'all. Keep ya guessing on which fandom has my balls this week.

~Darling XOXO

☾ So, I hesitated writing this for a number of reasons, but I decided I don't care. Hozier has a new song, April has me face down in the mattress with how hard it's fucked me and I just want to write about a Link near and and dear to my heart.

☾ Mario Kart Link.

☾ He's just a silly lil goober who's always having a good time. Especially when I play as him because what is second place? He'll never know.

☾ I know, canonically, both are Skyward Sword! Link and Breath of the Wild! Link. I do not care.

☾ Because come with me, sinner, as we explore a whole new world. A world where Mario Kart isn't a silly lil game. It's an empire.

☾ Like Fast and the Furious (I think, idk I never watched any of them). OR like sk8 the infinity at S. I do know that one.

☾ There are real things at stake here. It's intense, and it's heavy.

☾ Here, give me a break while I do some worldbuilding here. Mystery blocks are still a thing, they work by magic idk, except getting hit by one of those things is devastating. It's why the newcomers don't last long.

☾ All the main screen players (Mario, Luigi, Bowser, Inkling boy, etc.) are high level racers. They are A-listed and the ones you look out for if you see them in the lineup.

☾ Including Link himself. He drives a motorcycle he named Epona, which he built himself from scratch.

☾ I spent a lot of time (three minutes) trying to figure out a clever nickname for him, and then I saw some of the names other people gave their Linksona's and, while there's nothing wrong with them, I quickly realized I was overthinking things.

☾ It's mostly a stage name, his name is Link and outside of the raceway, he goes by it.

☾ But, for shits and giggles, and point of discerning him from the others, I don't care. Call him ratchet, greaser, racer, cypher, tank, axel, sparks. I'm giving you all the freedom! Me? Personally? I'm going to call him:

☾ Neo- a combining form meaning “new,” “recent,” “revived,” “modified,”

☾ Great I gave you some background, let's get into the fun parts.

☾ Neo, where do we begin with you.

☾ Have y'all read A Court of Mist and Fury? You know Rhysand?

☾ He's Cassian coded.

☾ LMAO You thought.

☾ He's a fun, kind-of guy but when shit gets real, he can shift from zero to a hundred like that.

☾ He'll be laughing with a newbie, patting them on the shoulder, but the second that visor comes down, he's unrecognizable. He's an A-lister for a reason.

☾ He's infamous for taking shortcuts that are insanely dangerous. He's almost always bandaged somewhere, but not his pretty boy, play bunny face.

☾ So Cassian and Lightning McQueen.

☾ He's totally the kind to shoot a wink and a flirty wave, spend the night and then be gone by morning. Or have them escorted out by his Zelda in the morning, Tony Stark style

☾ He's a slut.

☾ Can you tell I like my men slutty?

☾ And he's such a....character in bed.

☾ He's a selfish lover, but make no mistake about it. His partner gets their end. That's right. I said lover. He's fucked bowser.

☾ I'm kidding

☾ No I'm not.

☾ He doesn't care who's in his bed. Man, woman, the funky others who say FUCK YOU to the gender spectrum /pos

☾ He'll bottom, top, switch it up mid-way through. He just like me fr.

☾But he's not lazy. Selfish, yes, but lazy? No. He's the best rider both on and off Epona, yk yk.

☾ And he has such a pretty cock too. A pretty flushed pink, circumcised with such a lovely vein running up the bottom of it. And while pretty, sorry his balls aren't much to write home about.

☾ They are dangerously sensitive though. Suck on them and run your thumb along the head of his dick and he'll whimper.

☾ SPEAKING OF-

☾ He whimpers so nicely. God, when he's in the middle of bouncing up and down on you (artificial or organic both are good), and his own hands are running up his chest, plucking at his own pebbled nipples and playing with the piercings as his head is thrown back in pure bliss-

☾ He's probably sponsored by Monster Energy

☾ Has a sugar daddy FOR SURE. God wish I was HIM.

#darling writes #legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #loz x reader #Linked universe x reader #lu x reader #linked universe #link x reader #mario kart link x reader #loz link x reader #legend of zelda link #if this has been done before...#my bad #im sorry

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writingquestionsanswered · 4 days

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I have a small question where I would like to hear your opinion on. My MC died in her original world and was reborn into a new one. So she died at 27 and started back again at 2 years old from the body she took over. She is mentally at the original age. So my hiccup is that the story take place when she is 25 in the new world and I'm having a bit of a hard time figuring out how to have her carry herself. Theoretically, she is mentally in her 50's but 25 physically. How should I go on to write her personality? I don't want to say I want her to "act old", but what are some things that might be different between a 25 year old and a 50 year old and how could I best make her more mature? Should I make her more immature in the beginning (pre-death) So that change could be put in place?

Character is Mentally Older Due to Reincarnation

Here's the problem... there are two things needed in order for someone to mature: physical development and emotional development through experience. If your character died at 27, not only is that about the time that brains stop physically developing anyway, she also does not go through any further emotional development through experience.

Even if she is "mentally 27" when she is transported to the body of the two-year old, and even if we say her mental age somehow overrides the physical capabilities of a two-year-old brain, the kinds of experiences she's having over the 23 years in her second body aren't the kinds of experiences that are going to add significantly to her emotional experience. These are all things she has already experienced and learned in her first life. As a 2 to 25-year-old, she's not gaining a lot of experience in things like career, marriage, parenting, layoffs, career changes, divorce, single parenting, dating after divorce, caring for aging parents, etc. Instead, she's experiencing some of the things (again) that are natural for 2 to 25-year-olds to experience, like going to school, making friends, trying to get good grades, social drama, first kiss, first love, learning to drive, first job, graduation, going to college, first-time independence, getting to vote, serious relationships and serious break-ups, perhaps even getting married and having a kid or two, though not getting very far into that.

So, my point is, your character has to live the life of a 25 to 50-year-old in order to gain the experience and maturity of a 25 to 50-year-old brain.

BUT... having said that, I am speaking to you as a person who has lived the life of a 25 to 50-year-old, and I don't feel mentally different from who I was when I was 25. Maybe a little, but not significantly. I have certainly experienced a lot of things during those 25 years, but I still like a lot of the same things, still do a lot of the same things, still think and feel a lot of the same things. I still wear clothes (sweaters, jackets, and coats, mostly) I wore when I was 25. I still watch a lot of the same TV shows and movies, and like a lot of the same music. But also... I'm sitting over here singing to songs that are popular on the radio, watching TV shows that are popular with the 15 to 30 crowd, and comfortably conversing with family members who are in their teens and 20s.

So, a part of it, too, is that once you get past a certain age (mid-20s, really, when the brain stops developing), there's not always this catastrophic difference between who a person is at 25 and who they are at 50 or 70. I mean, there can be... there are definitely those adults who turn into weird adulty robots who feel like they can only drink wine, eat salmon, play golf, and throw wine and cheese parties, but not everyone is like that. Most people aren't. You'll get into your fifties and laugh that you thought you'd be so significantly different from 25-year-old you. :)

Another issue to consider is this: if your character is a 27-year-old trapped in a 2-year-old's body, does that make her like Stewie Griffin, except that's the way she actually sounds to everyone around her. Do you have a two-year-old sitting in the baby seat in the shopping cart at Target, looking at her "new" mother and literally saying out loud, "Oh, Diane... please tell me you're not thinking about buying that. You know how gluten wrecks your stomach. Put it back and get the gluten free one, would you?" Or, do you have a 27-year-old woman who has to pretend to be a two-year-old, and has to sit there making baby talk and saying things like, "Ma-ma... can get cookie? Pwweeeease?" It's really awkward, to be honest, and I can't imagine how mentally taxing, frustrating, and demeaning it would be for your character.

So... what to do? There are two options that I can see, but keep an eye on the reblogs in case anyone else has a suggestion:

1 - Compartmentalize her adult consciousness from her two-year-old consciousness until she's maybe ten or twelve. So, almost like she's a prisoner inside the body of a child, but she doesn't know what it's thinking and can't control what it says or does. Like they're two independent beings and she's just along for the ride, silently commentating and even trying to get through to the kid to little or no avail. Maybe sometimes, if she mentally screams loud enough, she pops into the child's consciousness as a subconscious thought. Then, for whatever reason, as the child ages, her voice gets through more and more, and she gains control of what the child says and does little by little, until finally she has fully become the child when it's maybe 12 or 15 or whatever age you think makes sense. So, that might look something like this:

Childhood: I'm dressed in my--rather, Bella's--favorite Bluey shirt and a pair of shorts. The birthday party is at an indoor play area called Bounce, and I can almost feel Bella's excitement as she drops her gift off at the table and runs to join the other kids on a giant trampoline. They didn't really have places like this when I was a kid--the first time, I mean. My next door neighbors--the Andersons--they had a trampoline in their backyard, the kind with the net cage around it, but my parents wouldn't let me jump on it except during neighborhood parties when there were lots of parents watching. At least I... Bella... will sleep well tonight.

Teens: "Hey, Bella!" Maxine said as I joined her at the lockers. "Are you going to Brant's party tomorrow night?" Ugh, Brant's party. I had forgotten about that. What an absolute turd. He reminds me too much of this guy Jared I dated briefly in college, in my first life. I'm obviously not going to tell Maxine that. "Nah," I say at last. "I don't like that guy enough to go to his party." "Why don't you like him? I think he's cool!" "Oh, he just reminds me of someone I used to know. Wanna head to lunch?"

2 - Give the adult consciousness a bit of amnesia and have her start to remember things over time. In this sense, there would still be some compartmentalization early on as far as being a separate consciousness from the child's, but in this sense she would be less like an adult imprisoned in a child's body, along for the ride and commenting from the peanut gallery, and more like a faint awareness that is more distant, but becomes more aware and close as time goes on. That might look something like this:

Child: Bella is wears her favorite Bluey shirt to the birthday party. She is such a happy, friendly child. The other kids welcome her with smiles and open arms as she joins them on the trampoline. I wonder if I went to parties like this in my first life?

Teen: Bella's friend--my friend--Maxine greets me as I join her by the lockers. "Are you going to Brant's party tonight?" My stomach sours at the thought of that guy, though I don't know why. Perhaps I knew someone like him in my past life. The name Jared suddenly pops into my head, and I briefly wonder what this guy did to past life me that I carried dislike for him into my second life. Not wanting to get into all that, I make an excuse about having to help my mom wallpaper the guest room. "See you on Sunday, though, so we can study for the test?" "Yeah, see you then," Maxine says, closing her locker. She smiles, but I can tell she's a little salty. She knows social gatherings exhaust me, though. Sometimes I wish I could tell her why--that I've been through all of this before, not even that long ago. But she wouldn't understand.

So, in either case, you're not really worrying too much about the nuances of maturity, but rather a general "adult" perspective as it relates to this child whose body it's inhabiting.

Anyway, I hope that helps! Edited to add: see a related question here.

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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leggerefiore · 1 year

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Headcanons for (Pokémon) Cyrus, Grimsley, Grusha, and Larry with shy s/o?

anon did u figure out my interest in pretty men and know I like grusha lmao

also first time writing for him so it might suck😔

characters: Cyrus, Grimsley, Larry, Grusha

---

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ Honestly bad at handling it. He already struggles with emotions as is, and is not sure how to deal with your obvious discomfort in a lot of social situations. Cyrus would probably accidentally make your shyness worse. He can talk about things with his odd charisma that somehow got him an entire bowl-cut cult, but he isn't sure how to handle your more reserved behaviour. The leader unexpectedly gets scolded by Mars and Jupiter about needing to be more aware.

☄️ He doesn't like to go out to places with many people, excluding the Galactic HQ. Places like Sinnoh's ancient ruin sights aren't exactly attracting a large crowds. So, in a way, he tries with that. Of course, in situations where you get taken to places with many people, he may forget your discomfort and meekness. You will have to ask for your own ketchup in restaurants. He will apologise if it obviously upset you, but this is aiding in his belief that emotions are useless by seeing you like this.

☄️ If your shyness leads to initiating of affections in your relationship with him, he will never initiate. Well, there are a few exceptions when he does (a long tiring day at “work”, when he feels vulnerable, when an odd loneliness eats at him), but he does not see the point in it unless you start it. His usual scowl certainly does not help with bravely getting a hug from him. Don't be afraid, however, at worst he will just stand there with strong indifference. (He does enjoy it.)

☄️ Overall, probably not the best with a shy partner, but he does try. Somewhat. Numerous discussions are probably required, but he does understand the urge to be more reserved around people. He just isn't a very emotional, comforting type who is aware of how to handle people. He does care; he is just bad at showing it.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ He actually might laugh at your more reserved nature. The elite four member is known to be a bit of a tease and somewhat cruel. He does, however, try to help you with it. People are hard at times, he gets it. While has the amazing ability to really understand body language due to his love of gambling, not everyone does. He can read your tense shoulders and obvious curling into yourself with ease. This is when the teasing comes alongside his aide.

♡ His favourite places to go are bustling and social heavy, so he wonders how to take you out to places you can both enjoy. He does not want to keep forcing you into uncomfortable situations in which you may not enjoy yourself, after all. Grimsley settles on things like cat cafés and city walks as a good in-between. There are other people around for him to observe and degrees of separation involved to keep you from having to force yourself out in the open too much. Unlike Cyrus, he may or may not order for you, too, if you are struggling too much. It's a coin-flip. Literally.

◇ If you are more reserved in your relationship, he views you like a shy Purrloin. He quite literally says as much. Even if you struggle to initiate affection, he can easily slither his arms around you for a hug and tease you about how obvious it was that you wanted to cuddle. Much like a cat, he gets you to a point where you can easily come to him for affection. He's smug about how he helped get you over it, though. Be warned.

♧ Grimsley is a bit mean, but he does mean to help you. He wants you to come out of your shell more but respects how difficult that can be for you. If ever does anything that is genuinely too much and upsets you, he instantly shifts from his smug persona into a softer, more apologetic one. He cares a lot, actually. You may find your shyness eased quite a bit by the gambler.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 He is uncertain. His overworked brain ponders how to handle your more reserved nature. His job(s) requires him to deal with countless people. Even extremely difficult people. He shudders at the thought of his boss. The ordinary everyman understands why one would want to be more reserved completely. Larry decides to mostly help you in whichever way seems best for the situation you are in.

🍙 While his favourite date locations are the restaurants are Medali, he can forfeit it easily for evenings in. He has seen your obvious reservation in social situations and doesn't want you to be forced out into a lot and run out your social battery. Though, should you both end out at a restaurant together, he does help a lot. Larry can talk for you if needed, or just be silent support. He gets it. If you want to come out of your shell more, he encourages you in a subtle way.

🍙 If you are reserved in your relationship, he finds himself at an impasse. He struggles to be overly affectionate himself. It will be an extremely awkward thing if you both want to cuddle, but neither wants to initiate it. Larry will force himself to get over it and start it, eventually. Tired man does really hope you can get to a point where you initiate it on your own, though. If you do, you get a rare Larry smile and contented sigh from the man.

🍙 He is the best at giving subtle comfort and picking up on things easily, but not so much at helping your shyness. He understands being reserved, too. You can be an awkward pair. Together. A perfect match.

🏔Grusha🏂

❄️ He might take it the wrong way, honestly. Grusha is always in a bit of a mood. When he realises you are actually struggling, he has a moment of feeling like a dick and being annoyed. Your meeker nature is something he can't wrap his head around. Well, he gets it. Grusha likes you, though, so he bravely swallows back his feelings and tries to figure out how to best work with you on this. He recalls how people treated him after his accident. Yeah, he gets it a bit. (He is going back and forth on his feelings, like many things.)

❄️ Lucky for you, he doesn't really like overly busy places for dates. He mostly prefers walks alone with you on the mountains. Grusha likes it just being you two, since it gives him time to get away from his position as gym leader. If you both do end up at a place with people, he does turn full “they asked for no pickles” for you. Grusha will handle conversations if you don't want to. His icy demeanour does hold a certain softer side under it. He doesn't like seeing you uncomfortable, especially at the hands of another. He does try to encourage you to better stand up for yourself, though.

❄️ If you are shy about affections in your relationship, he debates how to go about this. See, he thinks initiating cuddling is a bit uncool. He finds roundabout ways to get you to initiate, but if that fails, he does eventually give in and starts off affection. In a way, he does help you get over your shyness about cuddling and kissing, since he manages to get over his obvious struggles about starting it himself. Not to mention, he's a great cuddler.

❄️ Overall, he struggles with your shyness but does try to help you since he doesn't like you being upset and uncomfortable. Grusha does try to help you better come out of your shell, though. He just isn't the best with words or helping. The snowboarder cares about you a lot, but he just is terribly awkward in his own way.

#cyrus x reader #grimsley x reader #larry x reader #grusha x reader #pokemon x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon larry x reader #cyrus/reader #grimsley/reader #larry/reader #grusha/reader

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kitkatopinions · 2 months

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@kitestarry Thought I'd answer this comment in its own post. :)

Ghira and Kali are very much so stereotypical "Mom and Dad" characters imo, where Kali is kind of nosy and she's comforting and she's given that "no she can hit people with pans too" thing that people give Supermoms since like 2000 so they can say they're strong women without having to do any work, and Ghira is like overprotective and tells Blake she isn't wearing enough clothes and hates Sun because he's a boy who's interested in his daughter. And I don't like the stereotypical "Mom and Dad" characterization in any setting really, but since they're only featured in two seasons and are honestly not even sort of the focus of Blake's 4-5 arc (which is much more about her, Sun, and Ilia,) they're very paper thin characters I feel like. So there isn't much else to them. But on top of that, the RWBY writers do this thing where they'll make the teenage characters do dangerous stuff but do not care to write the "caring" parental figures in their life to actually do anything about it. Like, with Willow you can at least be like "well she's an alcoholic who had an abusive husband" which doesn't mean that her complete lack of presence until V7 and her lack of action in protecting her children is fine, but it makes more sense. And when then sixteen year old Ruby left home to go after Cinder and supposedly like a year later Tai still is completely not around, we could at least say "well, he knows she's with Qrow and he might not have known how serious everything was" which isn't a good excuse, but it's at least something. But, I believe Blake ran away from home five years before the start of the show, which means she was like twelve! And she ran away to be part of a group Ghira thought was dangerous and morally wrong (which is why he left in the first place.) Like, we don't know if Blake had a good place to stay for that whole time, if she ever went hungry, and the show fully tells us she was in a bad and unsafe relationship for part of it. And where were her parents? And then the Fall of Beacon happens after Blake is on TV during the Vytal Festival, and the whole thing just makes them feel like very uncaring bad parents. There's also Ghira's whole peaceful protest 'be nice to your oppressors and they might like you' 'we need to stop faunus violence' thing. Like many Faunus characters, Ghira's a mouthpiece for the severely badly handled fantasy racism plot. It's bad on Blake, but since she has a lot more character and role outside of that, it's easy enough to just clip it out for her for me. But because Ghira has been such a small role, it's a lot harder to dismiss for him. Like if you removed that sort of thing from Ghira's character, all that you'd have left is 'over-protective dad who doesn't care about finding his twelve year old runaway but will comment on her belly shirt when she comes home."

But also, I don't write for them to be honest. Writing for characters oftentimes makes me like them more because it helps me dive into the character concept more than the oftentimes lackluster execution. There are a lot of characters I didn't like that much, but then when I write for them, I find myself really enjoying them. But my sister and I first started writing for RWBY after volume six with a fanfiction that was an AU branch off starting at the end of V5. And the only fanfictions I've written either are branches off of that branch off or are Team STRQ era fics. So... Ghira and Kali aren't really part of things in my fics ever.

So yeah, it's a combination of them being thin stereotypical parents with very little interest to them, their apparent lack of care when their twelve year old ran away, and just never writing for them so they don't get the same treatment of me fleshing them out myself that other characters who are just as thin in canon might get that make me like them more.

#rwde

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lol-jackles · 11 months

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I understand producers wanting a no risk lead and Jared earned that credibility and reputation. I don’t disagree with everything you said about Jared.

But I’m still surprised that Jensen didn’t earn the same reputation being co-lead and surprised he has not been given the opportunity to lead or co- lead again on another show. He seemed to have built a strong reputation with directors and producers and execs in the industry so shouldn’t he be on that same short list? I just don’t get what jensen is missing that jared or max theriot, Tom Ellis or Justin Hartley seems to have. What is that “x” factor?

The work he did on Smallville, Spn, Big Sky and The Boys, why didn’t that earn him points to have studio execs ensure he stays employed and part of a show?

Even in an industry that 97% are unemployed, Jensen seems to be a standout actor that gets constantly overlooked. Why?

Jensen was going to be a lead in Greg Bertlanti's unnamed project, but then Zaslav happened. But you ask a very good question on why the networks' bean counters don't have him on a Short List.

First, my wild guess is while Jensen's scene stealing talent improves the episode he's in, it's not the same as having screen presence to create a story, which is a must for lead actors to carry a show. For example, Jared's two-minute screentime in "The End" was not scene stealing, he became Lucifer for the sake of the story and left a memorable impact on the viewers' impression.

Think of every time spin-offs were created to capitalize on the scene stealers’ popularity, only for the scene stealers “special-ness” to evaporate into the ether when they have to carry the show by themselves. Rebel Wilson had her own tv show called Super Fun Night. but it failed because fans expected to see the whacky side kick persona, but instead got a Rebel Wilson playing a normal woman who is sometimes socially awkward.

Second, Jensen has a bit of a branding problem. If an actor doesn't understand what their brand is, then how do you expect casting directors to see it as well?

Actors make the mistake of trying to please every customer by changing who they are and not understanding that getting hired starts with choosing a brand for themselves and sticking to it. Say you own an Italian restaurant and I come in and say, “Oh, gosh! You know what? I want Mexican food.” And then you say, Okay, we’re cooking Mexican food now.” This is what a lot of actors do.

I used to joke that Jensen was like an active from the show The Dollhouse. Actives are neutral human husks until they're downloaded a personality to carry out a specific mission. You don't know what the true nature of an active unless you're willing to watch several episodes to look for clue crumbs to their innate personalities.

I tell young aspiring actors on how to discover their brand by pretending to write a profile for an online dating site. People usually don't write descriptive sentences but use adjectives: funny, athletic, intense, quirky, great smile, etc. To help them along, ask their trusted friends and family members to make a list of 5 qualities that pop into their heads. Then use the impression that appear over and over again because now you know that is you, your essence.

Too many times actors wait for an agent or manager to show up and tell them who they are. Or they ask me, “what do you think I am?". Actors have to decide for themselves and figure out their acting “singularity” -- that exclusive combination of attitudes and behaviors that make them an original even when they're typecasted. Some people describe Jensen as a version of Dean-lite, but that doesn't make Jensen an original then.

Third, Jensen is not a natural born-leader. Most of us aren't, but like acting, you can constantly work on the craft. Leaders are supposed to protect their team, but Jensen was still soft-bashing Jessica Alba twenty years later. I don't care if Jessicca was a bitch, a real man is not supposed to betray a woman’s confidence. He can still talk about the difficulties of working with Jessica while respecting the position she was in and up against. In contrast, Jared immediately defended his female co-stars when it was popular to dunk of them: the Olsen twins, Paris Hilton, and Snookie.

#jensen ackles

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angelsanarchy · 8 months

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Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 12

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator

Oystein kept his distance for a day or two just to let Y/n cool off but by the time he made his way to the restaurant and saw her blank face staring at him coldly, he knew this was going to be harder to smooth over.

"Hey, I tried to call you the other day...I wanted to apologize." Y/n cleaned the table and walked away not even acknowledging him.

"Y/n please just talk to me for a second." Y/n walked through the kitchen door, letting it stop Oystein from speaking by adding separation between them.

"You aren't being fair in the slightest. I was a dick and I will admit that. I am sorry for saying what I said in front of everybody but I thought you understood." Oystein spoke through the door. It flew open, almost slamming into his face as she carried an arm full of napkins to refill the napkin holders.

"If you aren't going to eat, it's called loitering and you can be arrested." She mumbled not even bothering to look at him. Oystein watched her finish the napkins and followed her back to the supply closet before following her inside and standing in front of the door, blocking her exit.

"Please stop. Just...let me explain." Oystein put his hands out and she kept her eyes low, crossing her arms protectively over her body.

"I'm sorry I was an asshole. You didn't deserve that and I got carried away in front of the others." Oystein apologized again, something he never really did twice, even when he knew he was in the wrong for something.

"I didn't know Pelle was going to do that during the show. He's done it before but I figured maybe we had a few more shows before he opened himself back up again." Y/n finally looked at him sadly.

"Do you even hear yourself? Do you hear how absolutely fucked that sounds?" She asked pitifully.

"I don't know how to fix this Y/n. I can't control what he does, he's grown. All we can do is make sure he doesn't bleed out after the damn show." Oystein defended and Y/n kept her eyes trained on him with such a sadness, it made Oystein truly remorseful.

"This is not who I thought you were." She shook her head trying to grab the door handle but he stopped her.

"Wait, what do you mean?" Oystein asked confused.

"I mean that I didn't think you were this person. This blase about death or one of your friends offing himself just to get a crowd reaction." Y/n said finding her strength. Oystein let his head fall slightly.

"I told you, I can't control-"

"You're the leader of the band right? Mayhem is your band? You're the great Euronymous? Then tell me why you can't stop a member of YOUR band from trying to kill himself on stage? Why can't you find him some real help so he doesn't end up hanging from one of the trees in your front yard or with his blood all over the floor of the bathroom?" Tears stung Y/n's eyes and she hated that whenever she got this upset and angry, she couldn't control her eyes welling with tears.

"I thought you were this multifaceted guy Oystein, the guy who was a good son and brother by day, writing music about death and destruction only to preform it for his people at night, leaving all the blood and brutality in the notes that you played. I thought you cared about the people making art with you." She felt so stupid saying all of this out loud.

"I do care!" Oystein defended.

"You don't! You don't care because if you gave two shits about Pelle, you would have already taken him to hosptial for an evaluation." Y/n knew it was a cop out but he couldn't have it both ways. He can't claim to be the one in charge and have no say in what takes place at their shows. He can't say he cares about his friends and let them continuously harm themselves for an income.

"Tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this because I hate that you're upset. I didn't even get to ask you what you thought about the music and that's what I wanted you to be there for." Oystein shook his head and Y/n could see the disappointment in his face.

"The music was amazing. You play with your heart." She put her hand on his chest and he took a deep breath.

"I think I could have listened to you play for hours but I won't be going to anymore shows. I just...I can't handle everything that comes with Euronymous." Now he felt like he had been gut punched.

"You were right and you warned me about reading you wrong. You are exactly who you said you were. Euronymous is not someone I want to be around." She stood firm in her words and Oystein clenched his jaw unsure of what to say. She finally gripped the door knob and pulled the door open, pushing past Oystein and leaving him in the closet alone.

Y/n knew it was a bad idea to get involved with Oystein. He convinced her things would be different but she had to experience that night to know it wouldn't be. All she could do was be happy that she didn't get more involved with him and that one of them would figure out a way to get Pelle some help.

She retrieve Oystein from the closet, eventually he stormed out of the supplies closet and out the front door of the restaurant, startling the current patrons and leaving Hammeed looking at Y/n for answers.

#R!Euronymous #Flim: Lords of Chaos #R!Euronymous x Y/n #Alkaline #Alkaline Series #One Shot Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #12/35

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keydekyie · 7 months

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕣

~Frequently asked questions~

Wondering what the hell that human-faced bear monster was that you saw on your dash? Can't figure out whether it's supposed to be scary or cute? Confused deeply?

Well do I have the solution for you: All your questions answered, and more!

First of all: what am I looking at?

uh... well, the creatures are called Kanai. They're basically a sphinx, a creature with a human face, but instead of the body of a lion, it's a bear! It's not that weird! (right?) Oh, and they're also the size of a house. Don't worry about it, it's fine. It's fine.

What is this setting?

The story is set in my headworld, which is a sort of an alternate-reality Earth, and specifically in a country called Kellabor. Here's a big worldbuilding dump if you're curious, but there's no need to read it all before diving into the books. You'll discover everything important along the way.

So there are books?

Yes! I've published two books in the series, and I'm working on the third. I have a masterpost explaining them with content warnings here.

Okay but what is the story, really? What happens?

It's a very PG slow-burn fantasy romance adventure story with a dash of horror.

Oh, so there's romance?

Yep! It's been planned that way since the first words I put down. If you get through the first two books and are wondering where the hell the romance happens, just remember: it's a slow burn. A sloooow burn. We'll get there.

How many books are there going to be?

So far, I'm planning on four. Originally, I had three planned, but the second one was getting too long and I had to split it in half. That's why book II: The Crossing ends on a cliffhanger. Don't worry, it's not going to take four books to get to the cute parts.

Is there going to be a happy ending?

Yes! Yes, I promise there will be a happy ending. Might not, uh... seem very likely, at times, but yes.

What's the inspiration behind this story?

If you want a long somewhat-spoilery answer, you can read this, but the tl;dr non-spoilery version is:

I wanted to write a story about a monster and a human where the monster is the one facing the ethical dilemma, and they come to be friends and care about each other. And go on adventures. And love each other.

Wait, so... are the giant bear monsters the good guys?

Um... yes and no. There really aren't clear good guys or bad guys in this story. I'm going to have to ask you to have a bit of an open mind, here.

Okay, but I swear I saw a gif of one of these monsters eating someone. Was that from this?

Yeah, that gif is from a side-project set in the same world. It's a little more explicit than anything that happens on screen in TMatB, but let's just say it's not... uncharacteristic. That's the dash of horror I mentioned.

Listen... it's the dash of horror that makes the cute stuff that much cuter. The horror is the flavor. Trust me on this one.

Wait so if the bear monsters eat people, how are they not obviously the bad guys?

It's complicated! You'll find nothing is black and white here in Kellabor. The country has a long, mysterious, complex history, and so do each of my characters.

Okay but... what happens, though? Who's this girl I keep seeing in these drawings? Why does it sometimes seem like they are enemies and sometimes not?

The protagonists start out in conflict in book I due to ✨circumstances✨. They have a lot of issues to work out. Depending on where they are in the story, drawings of them might show them being more antagonistic or more sweet. It'll all make sense with context.

I'm still confused...

Ask box is always open! ♥️

#tmatb #faq #writing #books #the moth and the bear

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withlovelunette · 1 year

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How to create “complex” characters

– Introduction

I wanted to make a post about creating complex and multifaceted characters, since character creation is something I'm very passionate about from both a craft and storytelling perspective. Specifically, I remember I had this tendency to apply flaws as an afterthought to my characters in hopes of making them balanced and seem more complex, and this could often make the characters feel a bit artificial to me. I'm obviously not any sort of authority figure on the subject, but I do have one tip that really simplified the process of making characters more intricate, and I wanted to share it! This is probably more helpful for people who might still be at the very beginning of their writing journey, but hopefully others can get something out of this as well! It's a bit lengthy, but I hope it's somewhat enjoyable to read ^^; Enjoy!

For a bit of background, back in the early internet days, there was this trend of judging various OCs on youtube, deviant art, etc. where people would essentially evaluate your character and determine whether or not a character was well written. During this time, the term "Mary Sue" would get thrown around a lot (which is a whole can of worms I won't be touching on here). For simplicity though, Mary Sue generally means a character who's "perfect" (again, heavy oversimplification here). To counter this, people began creating these lists of character traits where they'd list off a character's good and bad traits, and people who didn't have equal amounts in each category would often be scrutinised for it.

And I see this advice all the time. If you want complex characters, people will usually tell you to just throw on a bunch of flaws, but I think this can be a bit misleading, because most traits exist on a spectrum, and aren't a perfect dichotomy of good and bad.

Thinking of character traits as neutral

My biggest advice is honestly to just think of all character traits as neutral. Because what really is a character flaw? A flaw is a very ambiguous and subjective term after all. What might be considered a flaw in one character could be considered another character's greatest attribute, and vice versa. Functionally, a character flaw should be a trait that creates conflict within the context of the story. Any trait a person has could be good or bad, it just depends on how it shows up in practice and how it's applied in daily life. It might be tempting to think that certain traits are inherently good or bad, but again, flaws aren't really about good or bad. They're about conflict and tension, and just about any trait can work to a character's detriment or in their favour.

I'm going to list off two examples of hypothetical characters below; one who most would consider to have a lot of "good" character traits, and one that would be considered to have "bad" character traits. Then I'll show you how you can easily flip those traits to create nuance. (And again, I really don't think good or bad are relevant terms here, but it's just to exemplify what I mean more easily!)

The "Good" Character

This character is empathetic, creative and incredibly supportive of others. They always do the right thing, and are a very responsible individual. They're approachable and friendly, funny, and generally enjoyable to be around.

The "Bad" Character

This character is cunning, manipulative, and don't care if their words hurt other people's feelings. They're largely apathetic and unreceptive, don't care about rules, and don't go out of their way to get to know people.

Their flaws & how it can affect the story

For the "good" character, you can look at what the downsides of empathy can be; very reactive emotionally, perhaps even a bit emotionally impulsive. Maybe they have a difficult time recognising their own needs, especially since supportive is also a trait listed above. Maybe they even use this empathy to figure out other people's needs and use it to their own benefit. Someone who's creative can often have a difficult time committing to their passions and ideas because there's always something new. Maybe they feel out of place or easily stifled by rules, but because they always want to do the right thing, they're hesitant in outright breaking rules and social norms. If they use their empathy and approachability to manipulate, perhaps this is their way of subtly regaining a sense of control because they're too afraid to explicitly go after what they want in life. Maybe they care a lot about how they're perceived, etc. Or maybe they really are a compassionate and kind person, but they're often a doormat to others because they don't know how to set boundaries or even how to recognise what they want. Maybe they don't trust their own judgment because they're so used to doing the right thing "just because it's the right thing to do", and don't actually reflect on their actions beyond that. There's a lot you can do with these traits!

For the "bad" character, which might seem a bit more tricky at first, the easiest way to figure out what the nuance of "bad" traits can be is to break down the why. Maybe this character became cunning because they've had to think long term a lot. They're good at waging the odds, they're good at reading the room, they're good at putting things together and seeing how the dominos will fall. Maybe they're even the person responsible for setting up the dominos, because they don't trust anyone else to make sure that there's a desirable outcome. If they're manipulative then it likely means that they're good at reading people, and they must know how to appeal to other people to some degree, otherwise they wouldn't really be able to manipulate anyone. They're likely used to having to look out for themselves, and they might even be good at spotting their own kind and knowing just when to avoid them. They don't care much for rules so they might not be as harsh in judging others, maybe they even have an easier time getting along with people who dare to defy social norms. Maybe they're even supportive of other people breaking the rules, because why the hell not?

Creating nuance

If you look at the two characters above, you'll quickly realise that they could hypothetical be the same character, because... They are. The "good" character is the "bad" character when they were younger. The "bad" character is the "good" character's future. An empathetic character can easily turn that empathy and their social skills into cunning manipulation. A character who previously felt stifled by the rules might choose to defy them. A character who got sick of caring how others perceive and judge them might choose to stop caring about what others think, and might even go out of their way to seem off-putting and un-approachable, because they refuse to ever allow themselves to care about others and be treated like a doormat again.

Or you can treat them as two separate characters that function as foils to one another. They both overlap in a lot of traits despite it not seeming so at first glance. My point is, I find that if you treat all traits as neutral, you don't really have to manually "add" flaws. Most traits have both upsides and downsides, and which side of those traits create conflict in the story is often what determines whether something is a flaw or not.

– Outro

Sorry for the lengthy and possibly rambly post, I just thought it might be advice worth sharing as it's something that really helped me flesh out my own characters more when I was still very new! Plus, as mentioned before, character creation and analysis is one of my favourite aspects of storytelling, and I'm also very passionate about psychology and philosophy and such. And again, this is all in good fun and 100% not a rule on how to write characters! There's exceptions to everything and everyone's process is different, and while this advice might be helpful to some, it might not be helpful whatsoever to others, and that's completely fine!

I'd love to make more posts on topics like this in the future if people enjoy it, or if anyone has any specific requests on anything! :,)

#writeblr #writing advice #writing tips #writing craft #original post

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possibilistfanfiction · 1 year

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conservationist au already!? you write so fast dang (what are your secrets) (also it's okay if you want to keep them secret) (mostly i am excite for frog)

here she is! frog au! lol [ao3]

to see us blossom (while the green spreads like wings)

only our feet have been here, that i'm aware of. it's wild and remote and beautiful as can be. i just want to be quiet and love it. let it sink in. i'll be leaving the planet, sometime. and i'll miss it.

— dr. bruce means

'dr. silva,' diego bursts into your office, his hair fluffed and messy, 'i found someone for the expedition!'

'did you... run here?'

'yeah, from the lab.' he gulps a breath. 'i got excited.'

it's fucking awesome that diego, your favorite grad student, is coming on this expedition, but it's becoming a huge pain in the ass to plan — you try your hardest not to feel guilty about why, but it is mostly because of you — and is starting to feel more and more impossible by the day. you don't want to get your hopes up: you don't have that much funding, and it's starting to seem a little bit impossible logistically, even with dr. superion's help. but you'll humor him: 'so who are we taking with us?'

he waits a breath, practically bursting at the seams. 'beatrice zhang.'

'the photographer?'

'she's an experienced climber! you follow her on instagram, right?'

you have gratuitously followed beatrice zhang on instagram for the last four years — for her photography, because it is some of the most beautiful and thoughtful you've ever seen, regardless of the subject matter, but also for the occasional photo of herself, surfing or climbing or behind the camera, particularly delightful if it features her arms in a tank — but diego doesn't need to know that part. 'yes, her work is wonderful for lots of conservationist efforts.' diplomatic, you think, mentally patting yourself on the back.

'and she's hot.'

'i didn't say that.'

diego rolls his eyes.

'anyway, how would we even get her to come with us?'

diego grins. 'i emailed her.'

'what?'

he takes out his phone and shows you her instagram, which, indeed, does have an ‘email’ button, which, obviously, you've never paid attention to before. 'she hasn't responded yet, or her team or whatever, i guess, but i only sent it ten minutes ago. and it went to a legit address and hasn't bounced back, so, i just figured, why not?'

even though, last year, you had had a successful time in guyana, finding and recording a few new species, there are a lot of why not's, really: your GA probably shouldn’t be making these choices without consulting you first, but you don’t really care about that so much as your mobility is more limited than ever lately. the weather probably won't hold so who the fuck knows if it'll even be possible to reach to spot at all. and, plus, it's for a frog. one tiny frog, that may or may not exist — (you're sure it does) — in the middle of a jungle on the top of a tepui that's never been climbed. it's... a little crazy, when you think through it now, way crazier than it had seemed when you wrote the grant for funding last year. most people, even world renowned war-turned-wildlife photographers with insane biceps — especially them, probably — aren't interested in a project like this.

'well, the least that will happen is she doesn't respond,' you figure; you don't believe in any religion and life had dealt you quite the shitty hand for a long time, so if there's any balancing it out, maybe this will be a strike in the good column for you. so, 'yeah, you're right. why not?'

it's two days later when your phone vibrates about seven times; you roll over in... some girl's bed? okay, solid night, then, and when you look over at her, she's beautiful and fast asleep. you remember your fifth shot of tequila and vaguely how great riding her dick had been; you find your phone graciously plugged into a charger on the nightstand on your side of the bed, and when you go to the bathroom you see condoms in the small trash can — so, all in all, a success. your back is sore but not terrible and you groan when you see it's only six am, but there's texts from diego and you have a policy not to ignore those, no matter how stupid they occasionally can be.

these are unequivocally not stupid, though, because they start with dr. silva! and then ava!!!!! ava! and devolve into some emojis and then omg oh my god and finally check your email, which is really the only helpful part of that — but they're not stupid because when you do check your email, you see a forwarded message from diego first. it's a cordial reply to the email he had sent to beatrice zhang, from her, it seems, asking politely to be put in touch with the lead biologist on the expedition if possible. which, you remember with the tiniest bit of a happy jolt, is you. you open the newest email, which is, in fact, connecting you and beatrice. she’s already responded, and it’s kind of wild because, from the three short sentences asking if you could set up a video chat to talk more about the expedition or, if she happened to be close to where you were in the world, even meet near your office or lab for coffee, she sounds, well, at least interested. you don't think someone like her — someone who has photographed war, and famine, and wildfires, and, miraculously last year, a snow leopard and her cub — would even respond to something she didn't care at all about.

holy shit, you text diego. you need a cup of coffee, or, like, maybe three cups of coffee, and a breakfast sandwich before you can respond to that email, so you decide to get a move on. plus, it feels unhinged to respond to it from your phone, so you need to go home anyway. you should also maybe definitely shower, you think, as you look at yourself in the mirror: your makeup is a little smudged and your hair is an unrepentant mess. still hot though, you think when you quietly find your clothes and put your bra on, a deep teal that makes your boobs look awesome. thankfully, you were just in high-waisted, loose jeans and a cropped sweater last night, so after you wash your face and get dressed, it's not really giving walk of shame — walk of pride, thank you very much.

you google maps where you are and, thankfully, it's a nice enough morning and a short enough distance that you can walk to your favorite cafe and then to your apartment without having to call an uber. you grab your cane from where you'd left it propped up by the wall near the bed, and then, because you're definitely not an asshole, gently shake your, well, one night stand's shoulder. her eyes are green, and you do remember that much.

'i gotta go do some work, sorry.'

she nods. 'right. doctor.'

well, maybe you're a little bit of an asshole, but it's not your fault that people think you're a very important neurosurgeon or something. you are very important in cataloguing biodiversity, so you just roll with it. 'thanks for a great time.'

she nods with a soft smile, and it's nice to kiss her, gently, goodbye.

'wait, you're meeting with her? here?'

'yes,' you say, mostly annoyed at camila's vaguely unhinged energy. 'she's close by train, so it's better to meet in person.'

'oh my god,' camila says. she's one of your best friends and probably the smartest, most tech-savvy person you know. when you figured out how helpful it would be to have someone operate drones for you on this expedition, you hadn't even bothered to ask anyone else.

'don't you know her?'

'well, sure,' camila confirms. 'i did some drone work for her a few months ago in the bahamas when she was photographing sharks. but, like, she's amazing, ava.'

'well, hopefully she'll say yes.'

'you'll have to charm her.'

'i'm very good at charming hot women.'

camila rolls her eyes.

'i'm also very good at charming people to go find frogs with me.'

she waits for a beat and then relents. 'well, i suppose that's true.'

'come on,' you say, 'help me make a slide deck. i feel like she'd think that's sexy or something.'

'you're ridiculous.'

'it'll work, i'm telling you.'

beatrice zhang in soft wool pants and closed-toed birkenstocks and a crewneck sweater sitting ramrod straight at the decent cafe just off campus near your office is, quite honestly, not a sight you'd ever expected to see, but it is kind of a miracle. or, at least that's what it had felt like, when she had emailed that she was, actually, a few hours away by train and wouldn't mind a day trip to meet in person. you're glad that you wore your best professor outfit today, flared navy slacks that make your ass look divine, and a crisp white button up that you tucked in tight and rolled up at the sleeves, a camel peacoat and expensive loafers that dr. salvius had gotten you when you passed your dissertation two years ago. you usually wear... well, not this — you reserve this for conferences and presentations — but, if looking professional helps beatrice sign onto this project, so be it.

and, well, maybe it's not strictly professional to undo another button as you had walked to the cafe, and, like, you don't actually know if beatrice is gay or not, but you spot her and smile and wave and her eyes get big for a moment, and you’re afraid you’ve got it all wrong: you’re small and young and pretty and, sometimes, people think that disqualifies you from being smart. but then her eyes rake over you and linger, for just a moment, on your chest, so you're probably right. if this helps too, so be it.

you wave and she stands very formally; she clearly recognizes you, which makes you feel a small thrill of satisfaction. 'hey, glad you found it okay.'

'i've had much more difficult locations to navigate before, although the freshman can be a bit scary.'

it's deadpan, so it takes you a split second, but then you laugh and offer your hand. 'i'm dr. silva.' you want to roll your eyes at your title, which you normally feel quite proud of, all of a sudden. 'ava, any pronouns.'

'dr. silva,' she says anyway, and shakes your hand firmly. 'it's a pleasure. i'm beatrice, she/her.'

only after do you sit, a little sprawled, and prop your cane up on the table, does she sit too, and then looks down at the menu. 'do you recommend anything? i haven't had lunch yet.'

'well, if you're like, uh... —' falling prey to diet culture, you think, but you don't know beatrice at all, so — 'wanting a vegetable forward option, their salads and quinoa bowls are okay.'

she wrinkles her nose. you hide a smile in the collar of your coat.

'but their kimchi fried chicken sandwich is my favorite.'

'and the slaw?'

'well, i'm a fries girl.'

she smiles over the top of her menu, just slightly.

'but my friend likes the slaw, and i trust her.'

she nods and sets her menu down, her wrists resting on the edge of the table, her hands clasped. a practical smart watch, no wedding band. her full attention is on you and it makes you feel a little breathless.

you're saved from saying something incredibly dumb — you're very, very smart, and you're actually very good at flirting, but beatrice zhang is hot as hell and a certified badass and you also really want her to be, like, your colleague — when your server comes to your table. you both order, and you get the fried chicken sandwich too, even though you already ate lunch an hour ago — diego's always happy to eat your leftovers out of the fridge in the lab anyway.

you're not saved from saying something marginally dumb, though, because beatrice kindly thanks your server and hands over her menu and then looks at you again, fully focused.

'i like your hair,’ you say, instead of, well, anything else. you want to groan and slam your head down into the table, or something, because beatrice's brows knit together and she brings one hand to run through her floppy middle part, short in the back and on the sides, pushing it out of her eyes.

'oh,' she says, softly and definitely confused. 'thank you.'

you're sure you're blushing. 'sorry, i just, like, the last time you posted — you had long hair.'

it's mortifying, the moment you say it, because you can mentally calculate the last time beatrice posted a picture of herself on her instagram, and it was definitely over a year ago.

she also seems to realize this, because her confusion turns to a smug little smile that could probably eat you alive. you'd definitely let it.

'i read about the last species of frog you discovered, when the article came out.'

that was also over a year ago, and you laugh, tension releasing from your shoulders. 'so that’s how you knew what i looked like.’

‘sure.’

to be fair, the article did include a picture of you, muddy and sweaty and overjoyed, holding a tiny frog in the palm of your hand, but, ‘did you google me?’

‘i only take on projects, at this point, that i find interesting.’

‘so you think i’m interesting.’

she raises a brow, a scar that also wasn’t there over a year ago running an inch above it and then straight through, cleanly healed but not faded yet, stopping right on the top of her cheek — thankfully your brain didn't comment on that, even though it's kind of hot too. ‘i think that fact that you've already identified six new species of frog two years into an assistant professorship is interesting.’

'so that's a yes.' you grin. ‘want me to tell you about the project, then?'

she thanks your server when he brings her water and your lemonade of the day, and a coffee, and then leans forward in her seat. ‘yes,' she says. 'i do.’

you tell her about it as coherently as you can: you're sure there's a brand new species of frog — maybe more than one, if you're lucky — on the top of a land mass deep in the forest in guyana. you've secured enough funding to make it happen; bare bones, but still. you have diego and yasmine, your grad students, and michael, another assistant professor in your apartment who's helped you on expeditions before, mostly by carrying a bunch of shit. you've gotten camila — who beatrice is also very excited to work with again — to sign on to do tech work for you. dr. superion and dr. salvius are helping from here.

'so, anyway, i need you to climb the tepui.'

beatrice sits back when you're done, flicks through a few slides on your laptop that you'd handed to her with pictures of the jungle, the cliff face, the budget outlines and logistics and equipment you anticipate you'll need.

'do you know a lot about climbing?'

it's kind — to not assume that you don't; to not expect you to either. you shake your head no.

'i'm an alpinist, for the most part,' she says, 'which means that i climb, well —' she pauses.

'no need to be modest for me.'

she offers a small smile. 'i've climbed eight of the ten tallest mountains in the world.'

hot, you think, but you take a deep breath instead and say, 'that's impressive.' nailed it.

'yes, well.' she blushes. 'thank you. but this kind of climbing is traditional climbing — big wall climbing.'

'oh.' you frown. 'so, you can't do it?'

'i can,' she says, 'and i'd like to. i think i know enough of biology to be marginally helpful, and i can certainly photograph the expedition.'

your heart soars, warming your whole body, and you take a bite of your lukewarm sandwich to hide your smile.

'but i'll need a team. i'm confident that i'll be able to get up the wall, but i'm not experienced enough at this kind of climbing to lead on all of these passes.'

'we might not have the funds to pay much, if you bring on more people.'

she shakes her head. 'i have access to plenty of discretionary funds, so that shouldn't be a problem.'

'that's hot.' well, you tried.

she laughs, thank god. 'i just wanted to make sure that you and your team are okay with me bringing other people on.'

'as long as they aren't, like, shitty, you know. racist, homophobic, ableist. all that stuff.'

she nods, very seriously. 'i can assure you that, while one of my climbing partners is inclined to be an asshole, it's always done with respect toward important identities. she's more annoying than anything. and my other partner is the best person i know.'

'well, other than me, now.'

you can tell beatrice is torn between smiling and rolling her eyes; she does a bit of both. 'and, as far as logistics go, i could easily provide a helicopter to get us in as far as possible. less of a hike.'

it's impossible that beatrice didn't see your cane. 'i have adaptive equipment for myself. i can do the hike.'

but her brows knit together. 'yes, i assumed so: you're leading the expedition. i just meant, for my team at least, the fewer miles we have to bring photography and climbing gear in a jungle, the better. it's heavy, and then we have to do a major climb.'

'oh.' you bite your bottom lip. 'that makes sense. sorry, people suck sometimes.'

'i imagine so.' she looks at you very sincerely. 'i'm sorry.'

you wave her off. 'thanks. it is what it is, though.'

beatrice doesn't try to argue, although you can tell that maybe she wants to. 'anyway, whatever you think will help your team, and whatever will help mine, that falls outside of your grant funds, i can cover.'

'that's — are you sure?'

she nods. 'quite.'

'where did you get these discretionary funds?' you can't help asking.

'a bad man,' she says, leaning forward and whispering dramatically. it makes you laugh.

'ooh, did you kill him? warlord?'

'alas, no. my father, and he's already dead.'

'ah.' you snap your fingers. 'well, if another opportunity comes up, you just let me know. i have tons of lethal neurotoxins in my lab. i'm always down to... you know — murder —' you whisper — 'a billionaire. long haul ethics, you know?'

she nods very solemnly, fighting a smile. 'i'll keep that under advisement.'

you fight the urge to ask her for a drink, and you definitely stare at her mouth a little too long, but then you get it together and offer your hand. 'well, partners?'

she shakes it, hers strong and rough with callouses. the thought sends a little shiver up your spine, but you valiantly ignore it. 'partners.'

beatrice invites you, after a few days of emailing back and forth to create an updated budget and logistics plan, to meet at a climbing gym. it's to meet her other two team members first. before you all get together with your main crew for dinner afterward. she'd given you their names, headshots, and very formal bios, which you had kind of loved: lilith, who, according to beatrice's bio, will be the lead climber. when you google her, you find out that she's, like, a world champion big wall climber, so that bodes well. and then mary, another photographer and world class marksman — I know this isn't particularly relevant, beatrice had included as a footnote, but it is quite impressive — and avid climber too.

you're hopeful about it all, and you're hopeful that tonight maybe she just wants to see you alone, and to have you watch her climb. there's, like, a two percent chance you'll physically be able to climb, really, but that's fine. she'd texted you about it, far less formal than her perfectly punctuated emails, so that's a good sign. and she'd posted a recent picture someone took of her — a candid, petting the trunk of an elephant peacefully — on her instagram too. maybe that was scheduled — beatrice seems like the kind of person who would schedule instagram posts — but a girl can hope, you know? you liked it one hour and fourteen minutes after she posted, from the lab's social media account and not your personal one, so you figure you've handled this all perfectly. you're great, beatrice is a colleague, and you've got this.

you're stressed about what to wear to a climbing gym and then to get dinner afterward, although there's probably a locker room or something, but it's fine. you're hot in anything. (or nothing. not that the night is going to go there.) you settle on tight leggings you wear to the gym and a sports bra, a cropped jacket on over. it's, like, cute and femme, but also practical. you brush on some mascara and put part of your hair into a little bun so it won't fall into your eyes, and you pack a spare change of clothes in a canvas tote — slacks and a nice bra and a t-shirt that hugs your body perfectly along with a pair of platform converse and an army-green overshirt — in case everyone else changes before going to dinner.

you grab your cane and head out the door.

if you fall to your death, it's definitely not going to be because of your back or legs. it's going to be because beatrice is in loose pants that seem comfortable for climbing and a tight racerback tank, and when you walk in, she's hanging by one arm on a short wall, just chilling out there, before she seems to decide what she wants to do. she brings her legs up to find footholds and then she's almost upside down, holding onto the wall with both hands calmly and moving so fluidly — a leg stretching out, her chalked fingers grasping onto a tiny hold. there's a delicate tattoo along her right forearm, all linework, and there are scars all over her left shoulder, running down to her elbow from what you can see: some are jagged and some are clean, neat, like surgical incisions. they don't seem to be limiting her progress at all, because she moves over the outhanging ledge easily and then to the top before just letting go and calmly rolling to her feet after she lands without a sound.

the — very hot — woman, lilith, you know from the headshot, sitting on the floor next to the wall, legs outstretched, leaning back on her palms set flat on the ground behind, and looking impossibly graceful while doing it, groans.

'getting stuck that long on a soft V8? come on, beatrice.'

beatrice, to her credit, just shrugs.

'shoulder?' the other woman asks.

'it's fine,' beatrice says. 'just getting back into the groove of your tiny walls.'

'oh, ha ha.'

'8091 meters will really change your perspective. you should try it sometime.'

'no thanks, i'll stick to my world records, thank you very much.'

they seem like they might physically fight, but then they both start laughing. weird, but you fuck with it.

beatrice turns, her hands on her hips, and, like, whew, god fucking bless, and then waves with a smile when she sees you. she walks over. 'hello ava.'

'hey,' you say, suddenly feeling a little awkward: you have not a single idea what you're doing. 'that was pretty impressive.'

'it was not,' the lilith says.

beatrice heads toward her anyway, and you follow. 'you can ignore her most of the time,' she says. 'dr. silva, this is lilith. lilith, dr. silva.'

'just ava.' you look at beatrice with a raised brow. 'please.'

lilith lazily salutes. 'ava, then. our illustrious leader, i hear. beatrice is making me lead a 1000 foot first ascent for a frog?'

'i'm not making you do anything,' beatrice says, and lilith grumbles like a teenager. it's funny, and you decide that you like her then and there, even if she scares you a little. she scares you a little more when she gracefully gets to her feet. she's tall and imposing, with a sharp face and long hair braided back, more wiry than beatrice's bigger muscles, but — you're sure — just as strong.

she offers her hand, which you shake. 'in my defense,' you say, 'it is a very cool frog. we can even name it after you, if you want.'

this seems to amuse her, because there's a hint of a smile on her face. 'i do like first ascents anyway.'

'see,' you say, 'that's the spirit.'

'ava,' beatrice says, 'no pressure, but i thought you might find it fun to try climbing. only if you'd like.'

'i'm, uh —' you gesture a little clumsily with your cane, the tips of your ears turning red. 'not sure that i can?'

'mary is an adaptive climbing instructor,' beatrice says, gesturing over to the taller wall with ropes connected through pulleys at the top, where a strong Black woman with perfectly neat braids and a dark outfit on is sorting through a few harnesses on the ground. 'but if you'd rather not climb, lilith and i are just finishing up. we can show you a few things we've been practicing in anticipation for the route, and then change and go to dinner.'

beatrice doesn't say either choice with any more or less merit, or worth, or importance: they're choices, and they're yours, and they won't affect how much she trusts you or believes in the expedition. lilith is checking her phone, uninterested at this point, and you decide, as you always have, to try.

'yeah, sure. i have no idea what adaptive climbing is, though.'

beatrice smiles and lilith stays on her phone, texting. 'that's fine. i have no idea about ninety percent of what you study.'

'i find that hard to believe. you're a wildlife photographer.'

she hums, softly touching your elbow and then walking toward mary. 'conservationist photography, sure. but i'm not a biologist.'

you make a note that beatrice doesn't really like wildlife photographer as a job title, although she was polite enough to not outright tell you so. 'well, i'm not a climber, so, quid pro quo?'

'ah, but you will be after tonight,' mary says, standing with a smile and offering her hand. 'dr. silva, right?'

'just ava,' you tell her, endeared by the fact that beatrice had probably been very formally saying dr. silva to her team this entire time. you shake mary's hand as firmly as you can and feel immediately a little more relaxed with the confident, easy way she holds her shoulders, her kind smile, her bright eyes.

'beatrice and i go way back,' she says. 'this project of yours sounds amazing. i was excited when she asked if i wanted in.'

'of course i'd ask,' beatrice says, bumping mary in the shoulder, who rolls her eyes fondly.

'well, beatrice said you were promised an adaptive climbing lesson.'

'if you're still in,' beatrice says, 'mary can show you the ropes.' she laughs at herself. 'literally.'

mary groans, but you're delighted. 'well, don't leave me hanging.'

'no. not another bad pun aficionado. please.'

beatrice grins and you sling an arm over her slightly sweaty and delightfully strong shoulders. she stiffens a little, and mary looks to her for a moment, and you're worried you've overstepped, and fast. but then beatrice relaxes.

you step back and gesture between the two of you happily. 'is this our thing now?'

'if trading terrible puns is wrong, then i don't want to be right.'

mary groans. 'not sure why i agreed to this trip after all.'

'we can name a frog after you, if you want,' you offer.

mary perks up. 'really?'

'yeah,' you say, 'sure. i've already named one after myself and given five others the dumbest, gayest names i could think of.'

'i'm back in, then.'

you laugh. 'well, let's rock and try not to roll.'

mary sighs, but beatrice's muffled laugh into your shoulder is way worth it.

Hi Ava, I'll be in town today to get some equipment squared away. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to have dinner if you're free. No shop talk, unless you want

you read and reread the text. you'd gone over shitty — expected, but still shitty — test results from an mri at your neurologist's earlier today, and, even though your team seemed to gel the other night, and all of your logistics are much less daunting now that beatrice has covered some of them financially, you had planned to stay home in your favorite boxers and most comfortable hoodie and wallow with a mediocre bottle of wine and good pizza and great reality tv.

but — hey, that sounds sweet. any places in mind?

beatrice texts back almost immediately. I don't know the area too well. You can pick, if you'd like

like, you're colleagues. you're about to be in one of the most remote parts of the world together in five days, with just a handful of other people, for weeks, maybe longer. you're the leader of the expedition but beatrice is, in important ways, a leader too. she's smart and beautiful and handsome and focused. if it's a date, incredible; if it's not, you still want to know her, you still want to spend time in her gentle warmth.

any food allergies/hatred?

she responds, No, I'm pretty adventurous

still, no clarity, but you set a place and time — one of your favorite tapas restaurants with a great little bar and, if it gets late enough, a good dance floor — and then set about getting ready. you eat a banana and take ibuprofen, which hopefully will help you be able to dance without much pain, and then get as pretty as you deem not desperate for a normal dinner with a colleague to be. which, it's you, so you're still very, very pretty, including one of your very best cleavage tanks. you finish your eyeliner perfectly and blow yourself a little kiss in the mirror. for good luck, or whatever. it's science.

'i got tired of it,' beatrice says. 'war photography is...' she pauses, and shakes her head, like she doesn't quite know what to tell you. you're totally sure she's not telling the truth, not really, but you know not to push, to spook her away. 'i could leave,' she settles on. 'as much as i hate the west, as much as i hate american and european, especially british, foreign policy, and its destruction of the world — i got to take pictures, and leave. at first, i thought it was something important i could do, to record the truth. political inherently, anti-imperialist, without being in politics. but, i was in occupied palestine, and, then, after —' she clears her throat, brings her fingers up to ghost over the scar through her brow — 'after. i couldn't do it. they're wars because of my history — our collective history — but they weren't my wars. they aren’t my wars. i can’t photograph them, at least right now. because i got to leave.'

you're horrified that she might start to cry — which isn't horrifying, not at all, you cry all the time, but you're supposed to be having a nice meal with your colleague and you had asked what you thought was an innocuous question about how she got into her more recent conservationist work, but clearly, not innocuous. you're starting to think, with a kind of clarity you very rarely have about anyone, that nothing about beatrice herself is innocuous. even her collarless button down and loose pants cuffed at the ankles — and the way all of her clothes, ever practical, drape with a tailored casualness on her small, strong frame — her easy hair that’s always actually perfectly trimmed and styled, the pattern of callouses on her hands: everything about her is intentioned. she means what she says. she means what she does. she means who she is.

'i started studying frogs with my mom,' you offer. it's true, and you mean who you are too.

she takes a sip of her water and nods in what you can tell is a quiet relief.

'my family is from manaus. my mom wasn't a scientist or anything, she was a bank teller, but when i was little, we'd go out often. she loved the rainforest, so, you know, i loved the rainforest.'

beatrice smiles gently. 'that sounds beautiful.'

you stare down at a croqueta and tear a small piece of it off, let the old ache fill your chest. 'she died, when i was seven.'

'oh,' beatrice says, 'i —'

'— it was a long time ago,' you say.

'sometimes that doesn't make it hurt any less.'

it's permission, to feel how you need to. most people accept when you tell them that and move on in relief, unwilling or unable to give you the space. but beatrice sits steadily. 'i broke my back, during the car accident we were in; we were visiting spain and, well. i had to relearn to walk. it took a really long time, and the orphanage i grew up in wasn't big on good physical therapy or really any care, so i taught myself what i could outside of school, got into university, got good medical care for the first time, like, ever. and i started studying biology. i went back to the rainforest as soon as i could, as a research assistant, and guyana was ... it's mind-blowing, bea.'

she weighs it all in contemplative silence for a moment, trying to decide what you need; what relief she can give. ‘i can't wait to see. i've always wanted to go.'

it is relief, what you feel, to be so immediately seen and understood. 'well, it's not just anyone i'd want to bring to the rainforest. my mom's favorites were always frogs, so —' you shrug, suddenly a little at a loss.

'so here we are, about to go find another.'

you pop the croqueta into your mouth, feel the dull pain in your chest dissipate when you realize you're close enough to beatrice's face to see her freckles. 'i have spinal stenosis, from the accident. it's progressing pretty fast, even with the best medical team, tech, surgeries, all that.'

she nods, like she understands what you mean without making you have to say it. it's a gift, bigger than she probably knows.

'i really want to find that fucking frog.'

'well,' she says, and lifts her glass, 'to finding our frog.'

'you know, it's bad luck to toast with water.'

she frowns. 'i don't usually drink.'

'you're very... controlled.'

she waits a beat and then grins. 'okay, one beer.'

'fuck yeah!'

'one, ava.'

'mhm. whatever you say, bea.'

'i have to take the train back,' beatrice argues — or, at least, tries to argue, because her eyes drift down to your boobs when you take your sweater off. success.

'you can just stay at my place. i have a mediocre ikea couch.'

'i can't let you sleep on your own couch.'

you laugh. 'oh, you definitely get the couch. i need all the good mattress support i can get before i sleep in a tent for a month.'

she smiles, gently and a little sad, but then the moment passes, a kind of grace. 'fine.'

'really?'

the set of her shoulders is looser but still sure, still so, so certain. 'yes.'

'hell yeah!' she laughs. 'shots?'

beatrice pulls a face but you order lemon drops anyway, mostly because vodka seems neutral and they're a good shot for people who don't drink often, sweet and tangy and fun. beatrice sniffs hers first — bold move, big mistake most of the time — but then nods in approval.

'to our frog,' you say, and she clinks her glass with yours. you touch it to the bartop and she follows suit, and then take it as smoothly as you can. it's an easy drink, so you don't have any problems, and she swallows without too much of a grimace. 'okay?'

'it's not bad,' she says, and your whole body hums, probably because of the two margaritas you had with dinner and this shot now, but also because there are freckles stretching across her cheeks and gold flecks in her brown eyes and if you let yourself look closely a tiny split on her lip, probably from the dry, cool air recently.

you shake yourself out of... whatever that was, and you order two more shots; she takes hers without hesitation this time, laughing when you spill a little down your cheek. she reaches a hand and wipes with her strong hand, tender, over the corner of your mouth, down to your jaw, and then clears her throat, takes her hand back quickly, although you want to ask for her to stay. but instead, 'come on, bea,' you say, 'let's dance!'

she only groans in a show of protest for posterity, you're sure, because she's very strong and you're very small and when you tug on her wrists she follows you easily.

you love to dance; you have always loved to dance: what little you remember of your mom is full of green, the rainforest and the wall of your living room. she would push back all the furniture to the edges, just the two of you in a small apartment, where you slept in the same bed and ate fruit from the trees outside. she would put on britney spears and jump around with you; she would put on stevie nicks and hold you in her arms, swaying around. she was full of light, from what you remember, always ready to read to you, in portugese and in english; to help you with your math and your handwriting. she cut your food for you and bought you new shoes when yours wore through the soles. she had been a good mom in the way good moms are: happy to hold your hand, to rub her nose against yours, to let you eat the batter off the spoon. you don't remember much, not before the accident, but it had been easy, and beautiful — the mist and orchids and green, all around.

beatrice is a little stiff until you start jumping around, fully out of time with the music, just to make her laugh. and she does, a smile lighting up her whole face. her body is graceful like this too, like it's always somehow known exactly how to move. you wonder, fleetingly between songs, what she was like as a child, if she was as sure and smart and kind as she is now. someone crowds into her space from behind and then you're not thinking of anything other than the tickle of her hair against your cheek as she presses into you, the lilt of her laugh into your ear, the hard muscles of her shoulders and the soft, small swell of her hips when you bring your palms to rest there. you're drunk and she's beautiful, and you've kissed lots of beautiful people when you've been drunk. but she closes her eyes and sways to the beat and it's like the rest of the world falls away. it's like there's only you and beatrice and the cloud forest, above anything else that has harmed and will harm again. there's her gold skin and scars and tattoos hidden under her shirt, the healed slices down your spine, the air between your bodies: sweaty, sticky with spilled drinks, thumping bass, everyone else in this bar. there's only the two of you, and it's a little like you've been punched in the gut: you're falling in love with her. it's easy, right now, to put a name to it all, when you can look at her jaw without reproach.

she opens her eyes and looks at you, a smile on her face, and leans in your direction. it's easy, to bring your hand to touch where you had been staring, to say, 'bea,' as she laughs into your neck, says, 'this is so fun, thank you.' it's hard to not kiss her, but she's ... extraordinary, and you don't want your first kiss to be in the middle of a mid-at-best dance floor after a few shots. you want it to be somewhere beautiful. somewhere you already know; somewhere you're certain she'll love.

'let's go home,' you say, because you had done another round somewhere between songs and she's slightly unsteady on her feet. she nods into your neck and you take her hand.

you walk back to your apartment with her, one arm looped through hers — 'very gallant,' you'd said when she'd offered, and even in the dim light from the moon and streetlamps you had seen her blush — and your other hand using your cane. she had found it for you, tucked behind where you had been sitting at the bar; she hadn't asked anything about why you didn't use it when you were dancing, or why you need it now. you know so many good people and you organize a lot with some of your other friends who work with the disability center at the university, but there is some kind of a revelation about being seen so wholly.

but maybe you're also just a little drunk, because she sways a bit as you walk and her accent is lilting, tender, her hair messy in her eyes. it's probably as soft as it looks; you had lost your hair tie somewhere between shots two and three and you tuck yours behind your ear. you have so many questions you want to ask her but you hold them in because she looks up at the moon and the stars and it's enough, to be here with her. to know her laugh, now, and the way she has hurt too.

it's enough to just walk.

it hadn't actually taken too much convincing — after you unlocked the door and gave her some choices in pajamas, soft sleep shorts and a big cotton crew her eventual choices, and gotten her a glass of water and a few cheddar crackers — to get her to agree to sleep in your bed with you. perhaps it had been because your couch is ... an unknown number of years old — 'listen, bea, phd students make, like, no money, and it was twenty bucks on craigslist three years go' — or maybe, maybe, it's because she just wants to.

you settle in first, listen to her brush her teeth with a spare toothbrush you'd given her, and wash her face with your facewash — that she had frowned at, accidentally rude but pretty funny and, like, fair, you got it from the drug store on the corner and you're sure she has a whole understated fancy little routine when she's not out in the field — and then wash her hands after going to the bathroom. you love sex, so you sleep with people often. you've had a boyfriend before, that you cared about deeply, so there's some parts of intimacy that are familiar to you, of course. but this, beatrice carefully climbing into bed next to you, with her freckles and her eyelashes and the pink of her lips, is different: you're not going to kiss her, not right now. you're not going to reach out and put your palm on her jaw like you want to, or feel the warm skin of her ribs, the goosebumps that would inevitably rise there if you raked your nails across the ridges. you're not going to because, you know, somewhere elemental in you, that you want to know her, and love her, for a long time. you want to take her to the rainforest.

'where's your favorite place in the world?' you ask instead, whisper it into the dark, the soft outline of her face.

she's turned toward you, her hands tucked carefully under her chin; it makes her look younger. 'tibet. the himalayas.'

'makes sense. you and your big mountains.'

'what's the last mountain you... summited?'

'annapurna. it's the tenth tallest in the world.' she pauses, considering. 'are we playing twenty questions?'

her eyelids are drooping. 'i don't think you're going to be awake for twenty questions.'

she laughs softly. 'i want to ask you one, though.'

'hmm. sure. two to four questions, then.'

'do you... uh, well, okay. do you like women?'

it's so awkward, so out of place for someone so sure, that you have to fight the urge to burst out in laughter. but it's also soft, and nervous, her eyes wide. it makes you feel sixteen again, full of possibility. 'yeah, bea. i'm bi. i love women.'

she nods, tucks her hands even tighter under her chin, lets a big relieved breath out. 'cool.'

'yeah?'

'mhm. i'm a lesbian, if you didn't know.'

you want to say you're the gayest looking person i've ever met but you refrain. for the romance of it all. 'good to know.'

she tries hard to wink and fails miserably. you let yourself, just once, just for a moment, reach out and run your hand through her hair. she leans into your touch, relaxes under it, before you fold yourself back onto your side of the bed. 'you have one more question.'

'so do you.'

'okay. hmm. favorite ice cream flavor?'

she laughs. 'that's what you want to know.'

you nod. 'it's very important information.'

'okay.' she thinks hard about it, genuinely. 'mint chocolate chip?'

'that's so boring, jeez.'

'oh, i'm sorry. simple combinations of dynamic tastes is probably too sophisticated for you to understand.'

'okay, ratatouille.'

she tries, a valiant effort, to not crack a smile, but she eventually does. 'okay, my turn. favorite color?'

you let your eyes fall closed and imagine it all, the sharp thorns and the torrential rain and the chirp of the neon blue frog you'd found last time. you think about taking her there. 'green, of course,' you tell her, a promise, a future in the clouds. 'green.'

#conservationist au #conservationist au 🐸#ft butch bea but we gotta have different tags lol but she's here #just ch1 but ch2 is the expedition!#avatrice #avatrice fic #wn #wn fic #frog au #i guess bc y’all love that lol

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