#also you get a sneak peek at The Vanishing Day I guess lmao

[serendipitous-magic]

what's your writing process like? do you plot things out beforehand? or do you sort of write it as it comes? a mix of both?

Depends on what I'm writing!

In general I'm a planner. I can't write from a blank page, unless I'm just like... really really captivated by whatever I'm writing, which was what happened with the first chapters of both The Art of Living Your (Second) Life and The Partnership Plan.

a) In general, if it's a fanfiction I'm writing, I tend to build the plan as I write - meaning, oftentimes I'll be inspired to write the first chapter, and I'll write that with little idea what the rest of it will be. Or, even if I have an idea what the rest will be, it's more of a vague skeleton than a full plan. And then, as I continue to write, I think more about where the story is going and I continuously add to and refine my plan kind of alongside the actual writing. In this way, the plan grows at the same time that the actual chapters do - but because the chapters take significantly longer to write than planning does, the plan outpaces the "real" writing and I usually know the basic story arc from fairly early on. Then it's just a matter of fleshing it out, adding detail, writing down scenes I thought of, etc. And then when I get to that point in the actual writing, I have a framework in place already.

-_-_-

b) Sometimes for fanfic, I have a more complete plan upfront - although I use "complete" here to mean "from beginning to end," not "completely detailed." So, more like a full skeleton than a full body, if that makes sense. I did that with Roll for Strength. What usually happens is that my plan will look something like...

...

Chapter One

-Will suspects Mike has a girlfriend and is kind of put out about it but thinks he's over Mike so he tells himself he doesn't care

-Will walks in on Mike and his BF (name??) and has a crisis (they don't see Will, so Will knows about Mike but Mike doesn't know that Will knows)

-Will might get off to that later, guiltily? (Or move to chapter two)

Chapter Two

-Do Mike's POV to tell about how he ended up dating a guy, how he got very disillusioned with the world after canon events and got into a "fuck it, the rules don't matter and I hate them anyway" mentality, which eventually snowballed into him kind of realizing and accepting his sexuality earlier than usual fanon

-Also introduce BF (name??) in a scene

-Set time and place - season should set the mood if not already mentioned in Ch 1

-Maybe also do BF's POV briefly to introduce him?? Or leave that for later

...

Etc.

And that's the original skeleton plan. And then it gets expanded upon more and more and more as I continue to think about the story, sometimes even with full pages' worth of unbroken text blocks as I get inspired and start basically thought-vomiting an entire scene. So by the time I get around to actually writing it, it might look like the above, or it might be a few steps shy of an actual draft already, depending on how much I've thought about / worked on that part.

See #5 in this writing advice post to see what I mean about a "thought vomit" draft.

-_-_-

c) Here's the thing - the above was for fanfic, or for short stories, or stories that I'm just kind of having fun with.

For original stuff, I adhere much more tightly to the "rules," because the guidelines for original work (that you might try to publish in the actual publishing market) are much stricter - and for good reason! Fanfiction is a sandbox, and we're all invested in the characters and worlds and settings already. We're all reading and writing fanfic because we already love these characters and this world, and we just want to play in it.

It's a different situation with original novels that you hope to publish. The plot, pacing, tension, and story beats have to be much, much tighter and more polished. Because people reading original work have no prior reason to be invested in it or care what happens - that's work that you have to do. For fanfic, that work was done for you by the original thing. Not to mention, the publishing world is so absolutely choked with competition, and the emphasis lies so heavily on sales, that if your book isn't fucking top-tier compelling, no publisher or agent will take a second look at it. Which is kind of unfortunate, because there's value in slower, more relaxed, more reflective storytelling, too - it's just not what capitalism has decided to value, which is sad.

But anyway.

When writing an original thing, I basically need a full plan - beginning to end, covering all plot points. Not necessarily all the details, just all the plot points - I need a skeleton and I need connective tissue. The rest comes later. But to start, I need to know what happens, why, and how the characters get from event to event. I need to know the physical story events, the emotional beats, and how those things logically flow throughout the story.

Some people can write without this and it still turns into a compelling story, tight narrative, etc. I envy these people. I have all respect for these people. I cannot do this. If I write original work with no plan, and especially without at least like 50-75% of a plan, I end up with something slow, meandering, and kind of limp. No bueno.

So, I usually use a beat sheet.

What's a beat sheet?

It's a 15-beat plotting structure used by screenwriters. And, yeah, technically it's for movies / screenplays. But storytelling is storytelling. And it's highly flexible. (And my favorite professor ever taught it to me in college so you can pry it out of my cold dead hands.)

Google it. It's what I use to make sure my (original work) plots are tight, have momentum, have a satisfying character arc, etc.

Okay, okay, I'll paste the basic structure below just so you can see wtf I'm talking about:

-_-_-

-Act I:

1) The First Frame

-What is the first thing we see? This should be a snapshot of the main character’s problem, before the story begins

-Ex: the Star Destroyer in A New Hope

2) The World Around Us

-What is the main character’s world like at the beginning of the story?

-What is missing in the main character’s life?

3) State the Theme (sneak this into The World Around Us)

-What is the story secretly about? This should happen during The World Around Us

4) Inciting Incident (smol tentpole)

-What happens to put the hero on the road? This is where the hero’s life changes forever.

5) The Hero Questions

-1st introspective moment

-Can the hero really do this? Should the hero chicken out?

-Oftentimes the hero fails at something

-Ex: Luke gets his ass beat by the raiders

-Act II:

6) Crossing the Threshold / The Emotional Hurdle (big tentpole)

-The main character makes a choice

-Beginning of Act II

7) The B Story / The Love Story

-Introduced here

-Often but not always a love story

8) Promise of the Premise

-Fun and games in the world you promised

-Horror movie? Creeps here!

-Sci fi? Space battles!

-Animation? Shenanigans!

9) Midpoint (big tentpole)

-The hero finds out that what they want is not what they need

-Luke rescues the princess - turns out that’s not really what the story was about

10) Bad Guys Close In / Throwing Rocks

-Events conspire to tear the hero’s goal to shreds

-Wesley is mostly dead, Inego is drunk, Fezzick is part of the brute squad

-This is the other side of the fun and games coin where things are no longer fun

11) All is Lost

-Something super bad happens, and that goal is impossible

-If someone important is gonna die, it’s probably now

12) The Pit of Despair (smol tentpole)

-The hero mourns the death (if someone died) and wallows in his/her lowest point

13) Inspiration

-A fresh idea

-Act III:

14) Come and Get Some / Final Confrontation (big tentpole)

-The final confrontation - the final showdown

-A and B stories wrapping up at the same time

-The theme makes sense and the battle is engaged

15) Final Frame

-Opposite of the first frame

-The hero is changed

-_-_-

It's what I use. But hey, you don't have to. What works for me might not work for you.

I'll finish this off by pasting in a section of actual real-ass planning I have open in a document for one of my novels at this moment (it's giving me the evil eye, I swear) so you can see what I kind of mean by "thought vomiting." Also note that in my actual document, the bullet points are indented incrementally to be kind of "nestled" underneath the relevant points, if that makes sense, and that it's a whole eye-watering mess of different colors. But for Tumblr, it's this:

-_-_-

-You have to be rescued by the rest of the team, because you fell down that hole - and you are, eventually, after screaming yourself hoarse some more (plus it’s been like an hour or more now, so they have since noticed that you were missing)

-I could gloss over this, like end the chapter when you run away, and open the next one with “It takes another half hour of screaming your throat nearly bloody before the team finds you,” or something

-They berate you for chasing after ghosts - you say you didn’t find anyone down there, because you know for damn sure nobody’s gonna believe what you think you saw, and you don’t even think you believe it

-This leads to a trip to the local doctor (a clinic, probs, akin to UrgentCare), which you’re not happy with because that’s more people taking notice of you

-However, you’re also going through the change in mindset here - see below

-Note: I as the writer don’t have to worry about the paperwork or whatever that you’d normally have to fill out, getting hurt on the job, because you weren’t officially hired - however, it would be a good “humanity is okay” moment if the guy who hired you came in and helped you with the medical expenses because he felt bad - he’d also probably be a little nervous about you suing or something, but you assure him that you have zero interest in that

-I could include a funny line where the guy says he’ll pay for your doctor bill and you try to say no (being indebted to someone is bad news for you) but he insists, because he says he feels responsible, and you just kind of stare at him and then blurt, “Do you need me to kill anyone for you?” (Something you probably regret as soon as you say it, not because you expect him to accept but because you abruptly remember what happened two days ago.) (Would it be too much to also add like “You want me to murder anyone for you? You want a blowjob? I will do anything,” and he gets flustered and bats it off like “Nah, nah, nah, chill out. You’re crazy, man.” And insists that you don’t need to pay him back)

-Here’s a decision I have to make - does the guy pay for your doctor bills as well as paying for your work today (leaving you enough money to potentially split town, but you decide not to), or do you have to pay the $2,500+ in doctor bills with no insurance for the injury, which raises the stakes by depleting all your money?

-I think I like Option A best, because it gives Sam more agency as a character if they decide to stay despite having the option to leave, versus them just being stuck completely - plus I don’t know how else I’d be able to explain away you having money for the hotel

-The guy who hired you pays you for the work day here - and maybe, just maybe, that gives you barely enough to buy that used car (although, why would it? It couldn’t have been more than like $200 for 8 hours of work, maybe $300 if he was really really desperate - if it was a really cheap used car, that might give you barely enough to buy the car but literally nothing left over)

-Point being, maybe you have enough money to bolt now, if you chose to - and you have to make the choice not to

-The car you found might be a $1,500 Honda Civic (or Jeep or whatever) with a dead battery, and the guy selling it says it should run fine with a new battery, which you Google (apparently it would be somewhere in the range of $100-$200) - maybe you think of how nice the mechanic was for you and wonder if you could cut a bit of a deal with him, if you get this car - and if the guy pays for your trip to the doctor and pays you for the temp work, this could just tip you into the margin of being able to afford the car, if you haggle with the seller

-_-_-

Or another example, with more actual sentences:

-_-_-

-As you approach the trailer you start to register a smell that turns your stomach - something like a porta potty and something like the sharp tang of rusting metal. It makes you pause - maybe there really is someone in there, using the place to live whether there’s a sewage hookup or not - it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing you’ve heard of. But after standing for a bit, silent and listening, and then hiding behind a large tree to chuck a rock at the vehicle to no response, you continue forward. You’ll just have to be cautious. Your spirits lift when you see the door. It’s completely grown over. (Leafy vines lace over it, tangling in the handle, yellowing and unbroken. If someone is living in there, they’ve been using the window to come and go, and that doesn’t seem all too likely. Bolstered by a new swell of confidence, and picturing the unlikely riches you might find stashed away in a cabinet or a glove compartment, you cross the last few feet towards the shape.

-You find the body and recognize it as one of the two obnoxious vlogging dudes from the motel

-I’m kind of imagining the moment of discovery like the wardrobe moment in Narnia where, during your nice forest trek, there’s been some pleasant acoustic music playing (like All the Pretty Girls by Kaleo maybe) and then it just stops abruptly in the middle of a phrase, maybe echoing slightly, when you see the body, and all at once everything is sickly silent.

-Oh dude, maybe you continue thinking it’s a duffel bag (possibly feeling pretty upbeat, though cautious until you’re literally about to step over it, and then you happen to glance down and get a sickening, chest-slamming shock when an empty human face is staring up at you

-Note: there should be mushrooms growing in, on and around the RV, because mushrooms are Creepy

-You go to investigate the RV

-Maybe you recognized the body as one of the vloggers and you’re trying to see if his friend is around - or maybe, in a kind of sick daze, you short circuit and find yourself doing the only thing you can think to do: continuing along your trajectory, stumbling towards the RV and tearing the rusted-out door free from the lattice of brittle vines that held it in place (this is what alerts The Dude that someone has been here), like if you just get to your original goal that’ll fix everything - somehow, if you just keep moving forward on the track you set out on, that thing won’t be real anymore - at the very least you have to get inside, to put a door between you and the body, like you’re pulling the blankets over your head to shield yourself from the boogeyman. Just as long as you’re not out there with, with...

-_-_-

Anywho, I'll stop.

I apologize again for... (scrolls up for a million miles) all of that, but you asked me about my passion and now you pay the price, lmao.

[squishysvt]

the waves aren’t that bad (my feelings for you are stronger)

Member: Renjun (NCT)

Word Count: 3.7k+

A/N a good old summer au for the soul also i’m fairly sure part of this ended up being like my last jun (svt) au Please don’t @ me i already know lmao -Admin Ay

        Water sprayed on your face as you stood against the rails of the boardwalk. There were a group of children running back and forth behind you with half of their ice cream cones dripping all over their shirts. You liked to sneak away from your home and watch as the boats moved in and out of the harbor.

Living in a lake town was really quiet in the winter. Houses on the shore were empty, the residents floated through the streets boredly, and the occasional dedicated fisherman sat on the docks with their hook in the water. Summer, when the sun obnoxiously beat on everyone’s skin, was when the town was as busy as Times Square. Well, at least you liked to think it was. You had never been.

Very often you would be able to spot the people who were in town for a vacation. They were louder, younger, and brighter amongst the residents who grew tired of seeing the same things every day. In technicality, yes you were also a lifelong resident, but in your heart you were just like the fresh faced tourists that drifted through annually.

“Honey–”

You jolted in your spot at the sound of the voice behind you. Knowing exactly who it was, you winced as you turned around to face your mother.

“Jesus kid, how many times do I have to tell you about being so close to the lake? It isn’t safe!”

Your groaned as your mother yanked you away, her grip paralleled with that of a bear’s. Part of you wanted to whine about how overbearing you mom was being, but you also understood it.

Your dad had died in the water. His boat too small and too far from the shore on such a stormy night. So rather than complaining whenever you were denied permission to go play in the deep water with friends, you would listen and find something to do by yourself.

“Hey, Mom? Could you at least let me go?”

Steps faltering, she did as requested and rubbed her hands on her pants. Your mother cleared her throat before speaking again.

“Go stop by the corner store before coming home, alright? We need more juice and and eggs.”

You sighed and nodded, splitting from your mother. You decided to go ahead and run the errand as you had nothing else to do. A loose rock on the ground kept you entertained throughout your journey as you kicked it, not having to pay much attention to your direction. You knew the town like the back of your hand.

Getting to the shop did not take long, with it being located two blocks away from the boardwalk, just on the edge of the gated residents. It’s where all the rich people lived, or stayed rather, in their large lake houses during vacation. The area was beautiful from what you could decipher whenever you got curious enough to peek through the gates.

As you walked in you saw a boy looking quite exasperated as he dug in his pockets. The cashier, Donghyuck (you were familiar with him, he typically worked the day shift)(he might have also been in your class once? He tended to stay to himself), tapped his foot loudly against the floor.

Finally, the boy huffed and dropped his hands.

“Sorry, I’ll just take the milk then.”

You noticed the pack of gel pens that the boy also had placed on the counter. Donghyuck began to slide the pens away before you stepped in.

“How much are they?”

The boy jumped as you settled next to him. Donghyuck looked at you tiredly.

“10 bucks.”

The boy gasped, eyes wide as he looked at you.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to!”

You smiled, “Don’t worry about it. Its my good deed of the week.”

Donghyuck snorted at the conflicted look on the boy’s face.

“Just take it, man.”

You hummed as you slid a ten dollar bill from your pocket and handed it to Donghyuck.

“I’ll pay you back, I swear.” said the boy.

You rolled your eyes. Then, an idea made way into your head.

“How about you tell me your name and you can help me carry my groceries home?”

“Its Renjun,” the boy said, shy smile stuck on his face as he took his now paid for items and followed you to the produce section.

        You and Renjun fell into a comfortable rhythm as you talked. It wasn’t as if you were conversing about anything profound, just small talk. Unlike most small talk, filled with forced smiles and awkward pauses, it felt like you were catching up to an old friend. You learned that Renjun was only staying the summer with his aunt (she stayed in one of the fenced off lake houses) and that he liked to draw in his free time (hence the neat gel pens he were struggling to buy). Renjun learned that you lived with your mom in a condo above a flower shop (his eyes lit up at the fact).

Time flew, and before the both of you knew it, you were standing right in front of the said flower shop. Renjun began to turn around, but you couldn’t help that you wanted to stay with him longer.

“I guess I’ll just–”

“Uhm, do you want to come inside?”

Even to your own ears you sounded terribly desperate. Despite that, Renjun grinned.

“Sure, I mean,” he frowned, “is that okay? With your mom?”

You nodded, “Don’t worry about it.”

Your mother being fine with Renjun would be an understatement. She was quite charmed with how polite he was. She even had the gall to wink at you (very conspicuously, may you add) when you recounted the events that led to you becoming friends.

Your mother giggled at one of Renjun’s stories about his friends back at his home town. Then, she shot up at the sound of her phone alarm dinging.

“Ah, I have to pull my lasagna out the oven.” she scurried into the kitchen area.

Renjun leaned towards you, making eye contact. He mouthed the words “I love your mom,” causing you to snicker. Your mother placed the lasagna on the kitchen island and started decorating the countertop with other food items.

“Hey, sweetie, ask Renjun if he wants to stay for dinner!”

You rolled your eyes, as if Renjun couldn’t hear her.

Said boy glanced out the window and gasped. The sun was starting to set on the horizon. You caught on and placed a reassuring hand on Renjun’s shoulder.

“Actually, Mom, I don’t think he can. He was probably supposed to bring his milk home a long time ago.”

Renjun gasped again, “I totally forgot about the milk.”

Your mother laughed at that.

“That’s fine! I’d love to have you over another night, though.”

You looked at Renjun hopefully, and he smiled back at you.

“Of course, thank you for having me over!”

You stood up, making your way towards the door, “I’ll walk you out.”

You watched as Renjun gathered his things and shuffled your way. Once out of the building you both could hear your mother yelling from out the window.

“Come by whenever you want, young man!”

Your mother’s enthusiasm cracked him up, and the sound made you feel giddy. When he finally calmed down, Renjun cleared his throat and started rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. You tapped your foot, trying to think of something to say.

“If you don’t have anything to do, you can come over tomorrow and hang around the shop.” You said, ending more on a question.

“Definitely.” Renjun said.

You didn’t notice the tightness in your chest until it was gone. With that, Renjun waved and finally left. He vanished around a street corner, and the remnants of his shadow followed.

        The next day, you were awoken by the sound of your phone dinging. You groaned and grabbed for the device. The screen said that it was five past noon, which caused you to groan again. Getting your sleep schedule back in check will be a pain.

Still sleepy, it took you a second to find out what was the cause of the noise that woke you up. It was Renjun, causing your eyes to open a little wider. He had sent a string of nervous messages; they asked when he should come over and apologized if he had woken you up. You chuckled before a yawn overcame you. So he was an early riser? For some reason that didn’t surprise you.

Eventually, you managed to get dressed and come down stairs into the flower shop. You jump as the first thing you see is Renjun tripping through the door, your mother rearing behind him.

“Look who I found out and about!” She chirped.

You rolled your eyes, unable to help the goofy smile growing on your face. Renjun walked towards you hand held up, and you appropriately responded to the gesture by high-fiving him.

“Sorry I didn’t text back, I just woke up a few minutes ago.” You had the sense to look embarrassed

Renjun shook his head, jabbing a thumb towards your mother’s direction, “Its cool, your mom told me all about it.”

By now your mother had snuck into the store’s back room, most likely to continue putting together a few bouquet orders. The sounds of foliage could be heard and you knew that was precisely what she was doing.

You made your way behind the cashier counter, putting on a beige apron with the words “Le Jardin d’Eden” scrawled on the front in blue. Renjun was glancing around the store; he seemed especially entranced by the orchids in the far corner. You pulled a stool next to you behind the counter and patted it loud enough to get Renjun’s attention. He got the message and sat next to you.

“So, what were you up to so early in the morning?”

“I guess you consider 9am early in the morning,” Renjun chuckled, “I wasn’t doing much. Just planning a few pieces for my portfolio.”

You parroted the word “portfolio” in curiosity.

Renjun cleared his throat and looked at his hands. “Yeah, I’m trying out for an arts school.”

“That’s so cool,” you nudged Renjun, causing him to look back up to you, “You should totally show me what you have so far.”

He smiled and let out a breath, “Totally.”

Then, a customer walked into the store accompanied by the bells on the door jingling. You got up to help, and when you finished with him a new customer walked in, and another. It seemed like a busy day, which was a bummer. You wanted to spend all your attention on Renjun. Every time you glimpsed at him he was drawing a new flower in the sketchbook that he, from what you know, conjured out of nowhere. Sometimes you met eyes with him and his mouth twitched at the corners. Attempts at smiles while his mind was concentrated on his art. He looked like a painting himself, but you blushed at the thought and continued to work.

        You fell against the door after turning the “open” sign to say “closed,” officially ending the working day. Your mother started sweeping the floors and Renjun disappeared into the back room a while ago to do something for her. He said he felt bad for doing nothing while you and your mother worked. You began to pick up cleaning supplies yourself until your mother waved her hand.

“Ah, no. Go accompany your friend, I got this.”

You rolled your eyes at your mother’s antics but internally thanked her as you approached Renjun in the back room. He was trying, and failing, to wrap a bow around a basket. He whispered what you could only guess to be swears under his breath as the bow turned out crooked.

“Do you want me to help?” You grinned at the way Renjun’s arms fell like weights to his sides.

Renjun let out a groan before answering in a whine, “Yes, please.”

You moved in front of the basket and untied the ribbon. Renjun leaned towards you to get a better view of your hands. You tried your best to ignore the way his breath was warm as it hit you. While walking Renjun through the steps it was hard to will the shake out of your voice, but you managed.

After what felt like forever, you finished tying the bow. Renjun’s brows furrowed, and for a second you thought you actually did worse than you thought until he spoke again.

“How did you manage to do that so easily?”

You laughed and shook your head.

“I said almost the same thing when my mom taught me. It just takes a couple of times until you get the feel for it.”

Renjun smiled, “I’m definitely gonna impress you with a cool bow next time I see you.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

There was a lull in the conversation, but neither of you minded. You looked over Renjun’s shoulder as he worked in his sketchbook. He had a page full of flowers that were on display in Jardin d’Eden. Everything looked perfect to you, but Renjun would grunt and fill in another part of a large hydrangea in the corner of the paper.

        That’s how you spent the next weeks. Renjun would come to the shop and distract you while you worked. At least not deliberately. You just couldn’t help your eyes from drifting to him and whatever he did. Most times he’d be drawing, but sometimes he’d also be engaged in conversation with a customer or your mom.

Finally, Renjun took you to meet his aunt. She was just as friendly as Renjun when she spoke, but was otherwise distant as she left you and Renjun to your own devices. You both would often spend time together on the balcony of her house looking over the lake when you weren’t working.

Sometimes Renjun’s friends would video call while you were with him. They were all very friendly (and loud) and would make sure to explain inside jokes to you. Especially if they were at the cost of Renjun’s embarrassment. Often you would find yourself crouched on the floor, holding your stomach from the laughter. Jeno and Jaemin, you had noticed, were the ones most often poking fun at him.

One day, Jeno popped on screen, interrupting the deep conversation you were having with Jaemin about snacks.

“Injunnie! Have you taken (Y/N) onto the boat yet?” Jeno’s eyes blinked into the camera, them being the only part of his body you could see.

Renjun coughed, face flushing as he shook his head.

“Uh, no. Not at all. Completely forgot auntie had it, actually.”

Another of Renjun’s friends, Chenle, shoved Jeno out of the way to be seen.

“What do you mean ‘forgot’? Didn’t you help your aunt repaint it the other day?”

You caught a glimpse of Jaemin behind Chenle, smirking as if he knew something. Renjun was too busy studying the lake to see you tilt your head in question. Then you remembered your mother.

“Its cool if he didn’t,” you shrugged, “My mom probably wouldn’t have let me anyway. She has a thing against the water.”

Renjun seemed to finally snap out of whatever he was thinking, as he whipped back towards you.

“You literally live in a lake town, why would she have anything against you being in a lake?”

You sighed and looked up to the sky. Stars shone, and you remembered one of many nights where you stayed out and tried to ignore your mother’s crying.

“You know how my dad was a fisherman? He died when I was little, drowned during a storm. My mom hasn’t let me swim in the lake or get on a boat since.”

Your father’s absence wasn’t something you felt often. You could barely remember him. More than anything, your disconnect to the incident was what bothered you the most. You swallowed down the weird feeling that you got from it and looked back down to Renjun. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could tell what he was thinking from the downturn of his lip and the hurt in his eyes.

“We’re sorry.” Jeno whispered, him along with Chenle and Jaemin mirroring the same look.

You smiled, “Don’t worry about it. If I’m honest, I’ve been wanting to rebel just a little and swim in the lake or something. I can’t remember the last time I did.”

“Then why don’t I take you?” Renjun blurted, then blushed. His eyes flickered to the side towards his phone screen before he looked back at you.

He took a deep breath and started again, “Why don’t I take you on my aunt’s boat?”

Jaemin leaned into the screen and somehow managed to whisper loudly as he spoke, “Sneak out when your mom’s asleep and can’t wonder where you are.”

The rest of the boys in the call grew mischievous smiles on their faces. You gulped.

“I mean, I’ve never–”  

“Of course you’ve never snuck out,” Chenle rolled his eyes and you held back the desire to frown, “There’s nothing to do there. You probably never wanted to.”

You finally did frown. You heard a smack from the phone and Chenle rocketed out of frame with a hiss.

Jeno looked at you apologetically, “Don’t take what Lele says seriously. We sneak out all the time to do stuff together, Renjun would too. You’re just a good kid.”

From there the conversation branched off. Renjun told you a story of how Jeno once actually stole candy from a baby. Everyone laughed, void for Jeno, who buried his face into Jaemin’s shoulder. Then your mother called, and it was time for you to leave.

Renjun walked you home. His hands fidgeted with the loops of his jeans the entire time. His nervous energy made you nervous. Before you knew it your home and the shop were in sight and you and Renjun hadn’t said a word to each other. That was, before Renjun cleared his throat, causing you to jump.

“You know, I wasn’t joking.”

You tilted your head, confused about what he was referring to.

“I mean, about taking you out on the boat. If–” he looked to the ground, “If you wanted.”

You tried to bite down the goofy grin you knew was trying to inch across your face. You lightly stepped on Renjun’s foot to make him look up at you.

“Honestly, I totally do.”

You didn’t realize Renjun’s hands were still moving until they stopped.

Renjun let out a breath, “Yeah?” his voice soft.

“Yeah,” you matched his softness, “I haven’t had my life-changing summer adventure yet.”

Renjun snorted as you turned to walk into the building. You’d deny the skip in your step as you made your way to your room.

        “Are you sure this is fine?” You couldn’t help from wringing your hands as you followed Renjun on the small path through the trees.

Renjun chuckled before turning around to you. It was hard to ignore how the lights of the fireflies twinkled in his eyes and the moonlight rested on his skin.

“I promise its fine,” he held his hand out to you, “to make you feel better.”

You had only known this boy for a few weeks, but all rationale initially flew through the window when you decided to sneak out in the middle of the night for the first time. So, you nodded and grabbed his hand as he lead you towards the dock. It didn’t take much time before you reached it. The water was placid and the only things that seemed to disturb its surface were the water striders gliding across and the occasional fish.

There alongside the dock, a sailboat bobbed in the water.

“This is your aunt’s?” you said.

Renjun only nodded at you before looking back at the boat. You stared at it as well. It was pretty, painted in a coral color with blue cursive letters on its side. You squinted to try and read what they said. Renjun kicked at a nearby rock and tugged on his hair.

“The Moomin,” he coughed, “My aunt, uh, she had me name it when I was little.”

You couldn’t help the teasing smile on your face, “That’s precious.”

“Please shut up before I push you into this water.”

Renjun continued grumbling under his breath, and the chokes resulting from holding back your laughter almost caused you to fall in all by yourself.

Renjun climbed into the boat first. You followed, easing your way on with Renjun’s help. The boat rocked from the movement of you both sitting down. You tensed, and both your hands shot out to stabilize yourself. Renjun sat right across from you. He touched his ankle to yours, and you eased. Your mouth still twitched in displeasure, for some reason he felt too far away.

The boat eventually stopped rocking, but your stomach still felt tingly. Renjun eyed you worriedly as you tugged at your hair. You couldn’t get your eyes to stop jumping from one thing to the other.

Renjun stood slowly and moved to sit next to you. Your breath hitched as the boat rocked again.

You shot Renjun an anxious glance, “Aren’t we supposed to be on opposite sides? Isn’t it dangerous?”

Renjun smiled, and suddenly it wasn’t so hard to breath.

“Its fine,” he took your hand in his, “Are you okay?”

You sighed and squeezed Renjun’s hand. He squeezed back.

“I’m going to be. I think.”

Renjun doesn’t speak after that. You look up at the sky and see the full moon shining bright. All the noises you hear are crickets and Renjun’s breathing beside you.

The warmth from Renjun’s hand spreads up your arms. Your stomach still feels tingly, but its different, and the thought that you could stay on the boat forever crosses your mind.

“Renjun?”

“Yeah?”

The words don’t make it out of your mouth but Renjun seemed to already know what you wanted to say, his lips pressed against yours.

Your eyes were shut, but you could still see Renjun in your head. Radiant, soft, like you were kissing the moon. You dreaded the sun rising again.

[ernnst]

i can hear the bells ernst has anxiety about talking to hanschen, but he also has an encouraging group of friends (who don't mind their own business) 

a follow-up to @hanschhen‘s fic here! this can also be found here! and yes this is a shameless repost since tumblr decided not to put this in the tags last time!

In five days, it will have been exactly one month since Ernst last spoke to Hanschen.

More specifically, it will have been exactly one month since Hanschen had kissed Ernst while he was over studying at Hanschen’s house, exactly one month since Ernst had confessed his love for Hanschen by shouting in his face like a madman, and exactly one month since Ernst had gathered his things in a flustered state and gone home suddenly, unsure of what to make of the events of the evening.

Ernst went to school the day after and told all his friends, avoiding Hanschen’s gaze from across the cafeteria and for the first time in his life feeling grateful that they didn’t share any classes together, because… well, he didn’t really know. He should have been happy that his friend that he’d had a crush on for the past two years reciprocated his feelings—and he was happy—but now that they had actually started something, Ernst didn’t know what to do about it.

He felt flustered and embarrassed whenever he saw Hanschen in the hall at school, he felt hot when he saw him at church, and when he thought about him—his soft words, his soft lips, and his hand on his waist sneaking lower every second—Ernst was sure he would faint. He was terrified of screwing it all up before they even got anywhere, and therefore the solution was to… avoid Hanschen at all costs for the rest of time? Awesome!

It wasn’t even as though Hanschen hadn’t tried to speak to him; Ernst was just practically structuring his whole day around avoiding the confrontation. After around the second week since they’d kissed (thirteen days after, to be exact), Hanschen stopped trying to get his attention at school, and the most interaction that they’d had with one another was extremely fleeting eye contact as their parents spoke to one another after Sunday morning service.

At this point, he was certain that he had utterly destroyed his chances with Hanschen in a romantic sense as well as completely forfeited their friendship due to his own incomprehensible anxiety surrounding what everything between them meant, and now that the school year was over and he no longer had the excuse of going to Hanschen’s house to study, they were certainly never going to speak again. Great!

“Ernst, are you good?”

Ernst looked up from where he had been staring blankly ahead for who knows how many minutes to see Melchior, who was cleaning up the snacks from their D&D session that had just ended a half hour ago. He looked like he knew the answer and the reason, but he was always surprisingly delicate about these things.

“Oh—yes, I’m fine, thank you. It’s just—”

“Hanschen?”

Okay, he wasn’t that delicate—but he’d also been trying to convince Ernst to just talk to him for the past month, so Ernst guessed that he was probably long past the point of beating around the bush, if he had ever been the type of person to do such a thing to begin with. In any case, Ernst nodded affirmatively, then looked over to the couch where Georg and Otto had been trying to wrestle the TV remote away from Moritz to see that all three of them had stopped to look at him when Melchior mentioned Hanschen.

“Are you gonna talk to him?” Otto asked.

“I—”

“No excuses.” Melchior shook a bag of pretzels at him threateningly before he rolled it closed. “You both like each other, dude; what are you so worried will happen?”

“Something going horribly, horribly wrong? Eternal shame and embarrassment?” Moritz answered for him and used the distraction of the conversation to wiggle free from Georg and Otto’s grips. He stumbled away from the couch as he did, then folded one arm across his chest once he got his footing.

Ernst pointed to Moritz and nodded. He gets it! “See! Moritz knows—”

“But, for the record,” Moritz continued, waving the remote around on each syllable for emphasis, “I don’t think anything will go horribly wrong. I just, uh, know how he feels.”

Georg opened his mouth to offer his opinion, but Ernst timidly held up a hand to stop him as if to say please, give me one second. “It’s too late for me to talk to him, anyways. I waited because I didn’t know what to do, and now it’s been a month and I haven’t said more than five words to him since then, so there’s no way that he doesn’t hate me by now.” He sighed dramatically, covering his face with both hands.

When he peeked through his fingers, he saw Melchior roll his eyes. “Come on, Ernst. You’re forgetting that I’ve actually talked to Hanschen since then. I can’t have one conversation with that dude without him asking about you.”

Really? Ernst didn’t want to show it too much, but that did make him feel a little better. “But...what would I even say to him? And how?”

“Hanschen, I’m in love with you, do you want to make out?” Otto suggested, and Georg and Melchior nodded in endorsement. Moritz cringed, but he didn’t offer any better ideas.

“Ernst, you’re missing a major opportunity here,” Georg cut in finally, making an insistent gesture with his hands as if the next thing he was going to say should be obvious to everyone in the room. When no one finished his thought for him, he rolled his eyes and elaborated, “You’re the only one of us here other than Melchior that actually has a shot at getting laid. I will never forgive you if you don’t follow through with this.”

Ernst cringed and gave him a dubious look. “I don’t think that’s really appropriate…” he mumbled, but blushed at the idea anyway. It wasn’t like he had never considered that; in fact, the past month was an absolute nightmare for Ernst’s active imagination and delicate sensibilities. He wanted to run his fingers through Hanschen’s hair again, taste his lips again—get it together, Ernst! All your friends are here, dummy. You can’t think about Hanschen’s tongue right now, thank you!

“I think...that you should go talk to him right now.” Moritz said suddenly, causing Ernst to jump when he realized that Moritz had sat down beside him on the floor while he was busy thinking about Hanschen.

“Right now?” Ernst reached forward to the coffee table to pick up his phone and check the time. He looked back over to Moritz with raised eyebrows. “It’s nine o’clock!”

Melchior fell back onto the couch in between Georg and Otto, shrugging. “So? I agree with Moritz; his house is only a few doors down—it’d only take you, like, five minutes to talk to him.”

Ernst groaned, wanting to argue but honestly having nothing to say, and knowing that the situation had reached the point that no one was going to drop the subject until he gave in.

“Melchior, are you sure he won’t be mad at me? Positive?”

“One thousand percent. If you don’t go over there right now, I’m going to text him and tell him to come over here.”

Now that idea terrified him more than anything. Ernst loved his friends, but the last thing he wanted was for all of them to be witnesses to whatever confrontation occurred between himself and Hanschen.

“Okay, fine!” He stood up suddenly, driven less by confidence and more by the sight of Melchior slowly drawing his phone from his pocket.

He smoothed out his sweater and took a deep breath. Moritz looked up with him with as much of a reassuring smile as he could manage, while Georg and Otto watched him with raised eyebrows, seemingly surprised that all it took to convince him was a low-stakes threat from Melchior.

Melchior walked over to Ernst and put his hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes with a dead serious expression that made Ernst feel a little intimidated. “It’ll be fine, Ernst.”

He spun him around and walked him up the basement stairs with his hands still on his shoulders, while the other boys followed and shouted out words of encouragement in typical loud teenage boy fashion; most of which were completely inappropriate—but their enthusiasm did make Ernst smile, for what it was worth.

When they reached the front door, Melchior let go of one of Ernst’s shoulders to swing it open, then gave him a little push onto the porch. “I better not see you in the group chat again tonight unless it’s to say everything worked out and you’re spending the night at Hanschen’s house. See ya!”

Ernst turned around just in time to see Melchior give him a thumbs up as he pushed the door closed. He heard the sound of the deadbolt locking on the inside. Oh, so he’s serious.

Despite now being locked out of Melchior’s house and having nowhere else to go except Hanschen’s—which was just at the end of the cul-de-sac—Ernst stood on the porch for a minute or two just looking around as if he would find a way to vanish and go somewhere else if he just thought about it hard enough. After he finally came to terms with the situation he was in, he stepped off the porch. It was a small amount of progress, and he was dragging his feet with each step away from Melchior’s house, but it was progress nonetheless.

His phone buzzed twice as he reached the sidewalk in front of the house, and he pulled it from his pocket.

Melchior!: i’m calling your mom and telling her you’re spending the night at my house so she doesn’t have to come pick you up LMAO godspeed. you are the beast you worship

Moritz!!!: good luck :-)

Ernst turned back to look at the house, and jumped at the sight of all of his friends watching him from the living room window. Moritz, Otto, and Georg were each giving a thumbs up, and Melchior winked at him as he pointed to his phone which was held up to his ear. Ernst responded with a timid little wave, before looking away and walking at an excruciatingly slow pace toward Hanschen’s house.

His excruciatingly slow pace quickly evolved into a power walk, however, as Ernst suddenly came to realize that it was 9 PM and very dark outside. With the fear of being murdered quickening his step, his plan to think about what to say on the way to Hanschen’s door didn’t quite work out, because he ended up on his front porch about thirty seconds before he had originally intended to.

Well, this is it.

The lights were still on inside, so he couldn’t pretend that it was simply too late and walk back to Melchior’s house and proclaim that he tried to no avail—not that he was any good at lying, and not that Melchior would accept that as an answer, anyways. He raised a trembling fist and knocked on the door softly, so quiet that he himself could barely even hear it. He stood in silence for a few seconds while doing deep breathing exercises, then knocked again with a little more effort.

That time, he heard someone approach the door from the inside, and his heart was pounding in his chest. Please, Mr. or Mrs. Rilow! Take pity on me and answer the door so I can embarrass myself in front of your son by telling him I love him again!

But it was neither of them who answered the door. Of course not. It was Hanschen. Ernst was suddenly worried that he might pass out. Or I can just embarrass myself right away for convenience, I guess!

Ernst stared at him for several seconds and then looked down to his feet, sure that he couldn’t bring himself to talk if he was looking directly at Hanschen. When he finally did speak, his voice was meek, hardly above a whisper. “I thought—I didn’t think of what to say. I thought that one of your parents was going to answer the door and that would give me time to think of what to tell you, but I didn’t have anything prepared to tell them for why I came here so late, because it’s summer now and we don’t have to study so—”

“Ernst.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked up again to see Hanschen and that little amused smile of his.

“I’m sorry, Hanschen, I—”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Hanschen began to reach forward, then hesitated slightly. Eventually, he reached out and took one of Ernst’s hands in his. Without thinking, Ernst squeezed it. “I should be the one to apologize; I thought that I had scared you off.”

“You did!” Ernst cringed at his own words, then shook his head quickly, squeezing Hanschen’s hand a little tighter and taking a half step closer to him. “I mean—you didn’t, but I got scared. I love you, Hanschen, and I have for a long time—I didn’t want to mess everything up. It was just so unexpected and I needed time to think, and then I waited so long that I thought you hated me and I—”

“—love you.”

“What?” Did I hear that right? Ernst’s eyes widened, and he suddenly felt weak in the knees. Hanschen tugged his hand, pulling Ernst against him.

“I love you, Ernst. I didn’t say it before.”

Ernst leaned back slightly to look at him properly. He slipped his hand from Hanschen’s, then moved both of his hands up to either side of Hanschen’s jaw. He stood up a little taller on his toes and kissed him—one that only lasted a second, but a kiss nonetheless. As he withdrew, Hanschen leaned in, prolonging the kiss for just a moment more.

They both stared at one another for several seconds. Ernst thought that at any moment he would wake up at home from another frustrating dream, and it would be four days until it had been a month since the last time he spoke to Hanschen—but no matter how long he stared, the situation didn’t become any less real.

Before Ernst could say anything just to fill the silence, Hanschen put one hand on his waist and drew him in for a more proper kiss, his other hand coming to a stop on the back of Ernst’s neck. Ernst was once again in a position of being extremely aware of his own hands, which were currently pressed flat against Hanschen’s chest—and a thought suddenly occurred to him. A thought other than Oh my God, oh my God, there’s his tongue again, that is.

As casually as he could manage, he moved his left hand up and behind Hanschen’s head, where he ran his fingers through his hair. Hanschen’s grip on Ernst’s waist tightened by a fraction, apparently encouraging him to continue. Ernst, who was usually very prone to backing down from challenges with very little prompting but who was also determined to make up for having left in a flustered rush the last time this happened, felt emboldened by Hanschen’s enthusiasm. He grasped Hanschen’s hair, and gave it an experimental tug.

Hanschen groaned softly. Ernst blushed all the way back to his ears. So he likes—

At that same moment, Mrs. Rilow’s voice called out from inside the house, and Ernst jumped back so quickly that he surely would have fallen off the porch and concussed himself if Hanschen had not placed his hand firmly against his lower back to stop him. “Hansi, who is that at the door?”

Ernst’s face was burning hot. Did she hear…? No, she couldn’t have… could she? ...Wait, did she say Hansi?

Hanschen grinned at him and rolled his eyes as if he could read his mind and knew that he was, as always, overthinking the situation. “It’s Ernst Robel, Mama,” he called back, as casually as if he hadn’t just moaned into Ernst’s mouth fifteen seconds prior.

“Oh, Ernst! Hello, honey—come in! How are you?”

“Hello, Mrs. Rilow. I’m—” he shot a glance to Hanschen as he walked in the door, “I’m really good, actually.”

Hanschen winked at him and laid a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him toward the direction of the stairs, presumably to prevent Ernst from politely staying downstairs and talking to his parents all night.

“Well, that’s good! Goodnight, you two.” Mrs. Rilow responded from the living room.

“Oh—um, goodnight Mrs. Rilow! Thank you for letting me stay!” He called as he climbed the stairs. A second passed, and Ernst looked back over his shoulder at Hanschen with an amused grin, whispering under his breath, “Hansi?”

Hanschen rolled his eyes but smiled anyways, giving Ernst’s shoulder a light shove. Ernst just laughed. For once, he didn’t feel quite so worried about what the future held for him.

A little later, while Hanschen was downstairs to get a drink, Ernst suddenly remembered what Melchior had said about the group chat and fumbled to pull his phone from his pocket.

the power of god and anime [Ernst]: hey guys!! everything worked out :) pope 2: now with pubes [Melchior]: we know lmaoooooo you can see hanschen’s porch from my window the power of god and anime: 😨