#do you know how many times i went to the thesaurus for a synonym of ‘anger’

[sodamors]

consequences

sekido attempts a leap to freedom.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. this fic is bad, don’t read it if you aren’t comfortable.

hantengu clones pet au. you can read the context/background here.

this might be part of a series of works, which covers sekido’s fight for an escape. literally just bad feels all around.

not beta read.

—

nowadays, the guards didn’t even bother closing his cage. they saw him too weak and frail, busted from all his rounds in the ring, groggy from continuous wisteria shots. and they weren’t wrong. sekido could barely move, so even if the gate was wide open, all he could do was stare.

useless. he’ll remember the times he spat at his counterparts. inefficient, lazy, weak. and now he was no better than them, no matter how much he bared his fangs.

but if there was one good thing left about him, it would be that he remembers. faces, voices, scents, everything. he knows exactly which guard comes over, who was lazy and didn’t lock the gate, who was strict and prodded him if he breathed too loudly. and he remembers them all — their stupid, pouty, human faces tore a bubbling rage through him. but the familiar fury was somewhat comforting. he prided himself for his resolve. besides, it was all he has left.

a sharp, ringing bell resounding through his dark cage meant only one thing. bettors were present, and they wanted to see him fight.

it was more of wanting to see him lose; lose miserably, in particular. having been tossed little to no food for months on end, sekido could barely move, much less get his bda to activate. he’d get pummelled, face first on the ground, whimpering pathetically as his opponent’s vile claws and fangs ravage his flesh. he could never fight back, or even get a hold of himself. old wounds would split open, and new ones make their stinging mark.

but no matter how much he was beat up, eyes glazed over, breathing erratic, he would always catch a glimpse of the bettors. chuckling in their stupid highchairs, his agony their entertainment. and his rage would erupt again — and so, keeping him barely alive.

the bell dings again, and sekido watches as a guard slides his cage door open. the guard trudges in, catch-pole in hand, hooking the thick loop around sekido’s neck. it digs into his skin, scraping foully against barely-healed bruises, as sekido is dragged out of his cage.

the ring is loud and chaotic. blinding lights beam at the blood-splattered ground, as rambunctious cheers emanate from every corner. bettors and spectators in the encircle the arena, drinks in hand, multicoloured masks concealing their faces.

if sekido could, he would hunt each and every one of them down. using their voice or scent or anything — he would rip, bite, tear them apart. infuriation twisted and boiled inside of him — all they have is a stupid plant, that just so happened to be a demon repellent. what were they so proud of? he growled at the flurrying crowd.

but sekido looks down wearily, eyes on his new opponent. a vaguely familiar pink. he frowns.

upper moon three.

sekido’s confusion rises, but soon subsides. humans had indeed taken over. not even the might of upper moon three could best them.

sekido tugs against the loop round his neck, not wanting to face akaza, not like this. where had honour gone? away for good, perhaps, as the guards yanked brutally at him, forcing out a deplorable whine from his lips.

akaza also frowns. “upper four.”

“no need to call us that,” sekido says.

“us?”

fuck. “i mean. me.” sekido clears his throat, and tries to shake away a twinge in his heart. “there’s no point in the kizuki, akaza. it’s all over.”

hearing himself, he realises his voice was hoarse, and throat was parched. clearing it had been useless.

“i know,” akaza says, some form of solemnity in his tone. “weak, cowardly humans, using their plant…”

sekido nods, but eyes the judge cautiously. any moment now, the fight would begin. settling bets took only a while, not forever.

“but i must fight you,” akaza says. gone was the honour and the excitement sekido respected akaza for. “i’m starving. they won’t feed me until i beat you.”

“i know,” sekido replied. “just… beat me up, but make it quick. they’re… they put me in for entertainment. only.”

“oh.”

“yeah. i think it’s starting.” sekido bares his teeth weakly, just for show. maybe he could get food if he excited the crowd enough.

akaza did not make it quick.

the bettors egged him on, waving pieces of irresistible meat in his face. honestly, sekido couldn’t blame him. hunger brought demons to their wildest selves, and upper moon three was no exception. sekido’s left arm had been beaten to a pulp, ripped at the elbow, the rest of the arm gone. bruises and bumps painted his body like the brush strokes of a crazed artist, blotches of red, black and blue, ebbing with his heartbeat. his muscles screamed with exhaustion, an acidic burn overwhelming his senses. it was no help that he was discarded into his cage with no food in tow.

the guard hadn’t locked the gate.

sekido wanted to growl. the pathetic human knowing he’s too weak to move was an insult itself. and again, his old friend — the flames, the burning rage in his chest — swallowed him whole. a rush of adrenaline kicked his senses to a height, a burst of hate-filled power roared in his muscles one last time.

sekido rips himself off the floor, ramming his body on the bars. and they swing right open— he catches himself before a heavy fall, and darts immediately for the stands. move move move move

bettors and dealers flock the area, suddenly erupting into screams when they see him. move move move. sekido trashes the tables, baring his teeth, snarling and snapping at whoever he could claw at. he catches a pudgy man and rips his back to pieces. he grabs ahold a tall lady and rips her to shreds. he cared no more, only listening to the raging, bursting blazes, blinding him with fury.

but all good things come to an end. his neck suddenly stings, and a different fire ripples through him. his body, despite exerting all he had, felt heavy, as though weighed down by hundreds of boulders.

and as he catches a glimpse of the accursed purple dart, sticking out of his neck like a thorn, he collapses to the ground, breathing ragged and vision black.

[hongthoven]

hii bun <33!

🍓, 🥤, 🔪, 🧩, 🏜️?

sorry if i went overboard lol

Hiii ♥ Thank you for asking, darling!

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

I was born a hopeless dreamer and as a child, no book, movie or tv show could ever cover all of my fantasies so I started writing my own little stories then — as for fanfiction, many years ago, I used to be Directioner and fell down the rabbit hole of fanfictions. Then came Kpop and I never left.

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

ʚɞ atarashi & paradise lost by @setsugekka are probably my two favorite hongjoong fics on tumblr — this author isn't on tumblr anymore but I re-read their works many, many times a month because some pieces are just mind-blowing and just tickle me in all the right ways. also highly recommend their ongoing woo x joong fic inertia on ao3 ♥ been hooked for months.

Fics that got me kicking my feet and screaming into a pillow : warning: all of those have smut content.

ʚɞ training wheels by @luvt0kki had me dying and craving for more ♥

ʚɞ plug & play by @bangtanintotheroom ♥

ʚɞ Ugh, As if - series by @ennysbookstore ♥

ʚɞ in vino veritas by @pirateprincessblog ♥ (wink wink)

And I would read anything my beloved, fellow crazy pyeongie @nateezfics ♥ and precious lover @ja3hwa ♥

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I have yet to search for some very weird topic, I think? but one thing I do all the time is to write hand in hand with an online dictionary and some kind of thesaurus/ synonyms ressource website - as non native english speaker - so there will be times when I'm looking for a thousand different ways to describe a thing and I just have to take a moment to process and tell myself "what the HELL are you doing?"

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

I'm not an extremely sensitive audience as long as it doesn't involve anything non-consensual. I'm not too keen on extremely tooth-rooting fluff because I'm easily cringed but honestly, I'm quite a versatile reader.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

any sort of feedback honestly, as desperate as it sounds — I feel like us writers are seriously lacking some interaction, whether it's a comment, reblog or a message in our inbox and while I'm conscious most people are here to consume and call it a day, I wish I had more interaction with the people who actually read my stories.

Then again, I know that writing short OS/smut doesn't necesseraly inspire people some long heartfelt feedback about how they enjoyed reader being railed by <idol> but it's always motivating and exciting to know people are truly enjoying your works and want to see more ♥ I'm really not constant in my writing and can spend months in writer's block hell but to know people are expecting something is utterly motivating and warms up my heart ♥

Annnnd I rambled for way too long! Thank you again for asking, this was so much fun ! ♥

[zalrb]

the summer i turned pretty 2x06 review -- no, i swear, tho, conrad was just sad...

Episode 6, the episode anons have wanted me to watch.

"I don't know I'm kind of happy here" after one day. THE MAGIC OF COUSINS.

"I know things are not great right now but it's always darkest before the dawn, right?" Why make him speak in cliches?

Cam Cameron WHY. ARE YOU HERE?

I like how Belly could've just said "We should throw a party" but because we're supposed to understand the closeness of these families through dialogue alone she has to say it in a roundabout way so she can talk about a memory of her mom and Susannah that Conrad and Jeremiah should already know if it's like they all grew up together 3 months out of the year.

This zen conversation with Steven and Conrad is legit like the first real conversation I've witnessed on this show.

This volleyball conversation is so forced.

"Your subconscious brain takes you there" You can just say subconscious, Jere. Who wrote this.

Oh look, ANOTHER taylor swift song. jesus christ.

I think I got a few requests to do a vid to this song and I remember just not getting over "is it chill that you're in my head?" because I thought it sounded like when you go to the thesaurus and look up synonyms for "cool".

They're both trickling their hands in the water, are their fingers going to touch and it's going to be ELECTRICITY?

Yes.

But this is her I FEEL THE ELECTRICITY face

You know, we can't even consistently stay here

at marginal almost kind of chemistry

"I'll come too!" Taylor's "Uh huh" is the only time I've marginally liked her.

You can't scoff at him calling her his muse with your cliched valedictorian speech, Steven.

LOOK AT MY FAKE I.D. k.

"Wooooooow, your I.D. didn't work Mr. Herbertson??" "Fuck off, at least I have one" oh my god, a moment between them that ACTUALLY sounded genuine. I am amazed. It will most likely die of loneliness.

And Jumper laughing then pointing at the sign is legitimately the only funny moment I've seen throughout this entire season.

BELLY WILL SAVE THE DAY. SHE WILL GET THE BOOZE. BECAUSE SHE IS BELLY. AND IT IS THE SUMMER SHE TURNED PRETTY.

She doesn't even sound sincere.

i am laughing so hard, this is the first time i've read rap on this show and it's because SHE'S SO GANGSTER SHE GOT THE BOOZE BECAUSE SHE'S BELLY.

Conrad asserting his dominance after Belly got Jeremiah a drink but not him one by drinking from Belly's straw is actually pretty funny though. It would be better if Belly wasn't so ... herself.

I love that Skye and Cam Cameron are the ship I care about the most (and I'm using the word 'care' SO loosely).

"The sacred emergency Amex??" It went back to being phony.

I can't deal with more Taylor and Steven.

And she'll put the boa around him because this show loves cliches.

And Jeremiah will see because this show loves cliches.

"Belly, you don't have to apologize for that" she kind of does though. She was kind of completely terrible.

Girl, you can shrug and shake your head all you want, it doesn't compensate for a lack of emotion in your face or voice.

And he's blinking trying to find his well of emotion and that shit is dry, my friend.

It's not like he was kissing Aubrey, it's not even like they were hugging, he had his head in her lap and you can say "teenager" all you want but this is ridiculous.

This is also the closest they've come to executing what they want with these two and it's still not done well but when he says "Aubrey was just the one who found me I wish it was you" I can at least say I believe that.

There we go.

So I'm guessing she's supposed to have this cosmic, soulful, reach into each other's soul connection with Conrad and a fun, chemistry-filled familiarity with Jeremiah. I've just seen both things done properly so this is just very big shrug.

I was going to say something about the 'how to kiss' conversation but then I was like, lol there are too many youths on my blog. So, moving on.

"I always hated when Mom made us take these pictures but it's like she knew we'd want them later" yes, Jeremiah, that's the purpose of a picture. He would annoy me less if they stopped giving him asinine lines.

"Looking at you mooning over Conrad" "That was a LONG time ago" how long ago was this break up, Belly?

she's saying the same thing twice. That's just called moving on. What it should be is "mourning your past and moving on in the present" or "remembering your past and moving on in the present" or "celebrating your past and moving on in the present" or "appreciating your past and moving on in the present". WHO. WROTE. THIS.

So Jere is Dean and Conrad is Jess, which anon essentially told me. Except Conrad is nowhere near as bad as Jess. He is just a boy who's been sad. LMAO.

she needs to be stopped.

"I don't want to talk about Conrad, he really hurt you" BY BEING SAD?

"You don't need to hurt yourself to get my attention" that was almost hot but he lacks the conviction necessary for me to be like ... sir ... and they don't actually have the i-need-to-jump-your-bones tension they need to have

"Just don't fucking break her heart again." He was quiet at prom. I...

OK so I'm really on neither side here because I don't care but there is a bit of a difference between Conrad telling Jere to suck it up and let him be with Belly, which was insensitive, and Jeremiah about to make out with his brother's ex girlfriend in public.

"When things aren't perfect instead of trying to fix it, he decides to throw it away" but we literally never see him do that?? Like he leaves Brown to go to the house to stop the sale, he's like Liam or whoever, he got a judge to let him access the trust, let's do that. Jeremiah did you think of anything you could do to help save this house except bring flowers to Julia, which failed, or did you just go let's not give up every time reality hit? Because even the "let's get Syke on our side" plan was Belly's? Idk dude, you're talking a big game for a character who I've seen be effectively useless??

"When shit got tough, he couldn't handle it and he dropped you", he literally said he couldn't go to back to the prom and Belly was like LET'S BREAK UP THEN and then he tried to be like wait that's not what I mean and Belly refused to listen?

I ... WHAT?

See, this isn't a blowup. This is a very contained, very quiet fight and this is when it's supposed to be a dirty OH SHIT fight. We should get a version of this, GET IN HIS FACE JERE

rail up on him

be specific

don't be afraid to have a fight! Not to mention I can't believe this fight because like 98% of the things he's accusing Conrad of, I don't think Conrad actually did, that would make him too much an active character. He is literally just a guy who's been sad.

And I know they hinted that Jeremiah has to deal with stuff because he was putting together Susannah's receipts or whatever but this is when juxtaposition would work where we see him see her wither away, we see him give her ice chips, we see him take care of her and Conrad is with Belly or at school.

Belly, why are YOU drunk? omg, at least Marissa's drama was FUN.

"I'm not leaving you, Belly." "But you already did!" I mean DID HE? And he also explained WHAT happened with Aubrey?

Someone said Conrad is like a ticking time bomb but what happens when he explodes because I haven't seen it. I've just seen him be sad.

And ALSO THIS SHOULD HAVE THIS KIND OF ENERGY

Belly, you are actually a ridiculous person

If they really wanted me to believe that Conrad was slipping away little by little throughout their relationship then they can't just leave that up to prom and a voiceover. I needed to see him actively shut her out, I needed to see her actively try to talk to him and him refusing to let her in. I needed to see him be Jess. Otherwise, this is RIDICULOUS.

Oh good, you know what I needed now? Another Taylor Swift song.

And then Belly turns around and kisses/chooses Jeremiah after this? BRO. WHY DO EITHER OF YOU LIKE HER?

[subtletruamadumping]

A Pitch Black Room, A Velvet Ribbon, A Secret Box

______________________________________________________________

This was my first year doing NaNoWriMo. It started as a writing prompt (the title is literally just the prompt) and it's a collection of short stories from many different peoples' perspectives linked by various objects. I won this year but never looked back at it. In fact, I am kind of embarrassed by it but I try to remind myself I was literally a child. Instead of being broken up into chapters, it's broken into characters.

Written in November 2016

______________________________________________________________

Part 3, Louis

“What is so secret about this box, anyway, Grandpa?” Louis asked, looking at the old thing in his grandpa’s lap.

“Well, you see,” His grandpa began “I used to go out treasure hunting when I was younger.”

“Did you find this on one of your treasure hunts?” Louise gasped, looking at the box with new interest.

“Sure did.” The old man said, laughing a little at the wonder in Louis’ eyes “I was a much younger man back then, though.”

“Can you tell me the story of how you found it?” Louis asked.

“Well, your mother might not be happy with me if I keep you up much longer.”

“Oh, please, Grandpa?” Louis begged.

“Alright, alright, but this counts as your story for bedtime, too.”

“Yippee!” Louis cheered, settling down in front of his elder.

“Now, you have to remember this was a very long time ago.” The grandpa started “I’m not doing so much treasure hunting nowadays. I used to be well known for being able to break code and answer riddles. So, naturally, I was a very good treasure hunter.”

“Did you find a lot of treasures, Grandpa?”

“No, not too much. You see, I was more of a consultant. People would come to me if they couldn’t crack codes or things like that. However, I did find a few good hauls in my hunting days. This box came from my very last treasure hunt.”

“How did the hunt start?”

“Well, it started out like many other treasure hunts. It started out with a note.”

“A note?”

“Yes, a note. It was stuck in between two pages of a library book that no one ever checked out, anymore.”

“What book was it?”

“A thesaurus.”

“A what?”

“Exactly.”

“Grandpa, just tell me what it is.”

“It’s kind of like a dictionary, but only holds synonyms and antonyms of words.”

“Oh. Why not just use the internet?”

“And, now you see why it doesn’t get checked out anymore.”

 “Then, how’d you find it?”

“I didn’t. A librarian did.”

“And she gave it to you?”

“Yes-siree. She said she had no use for it because it was written in code and she couldn’t read it. Now, I went ahead and went ahead and deciphered it, just to see what it was.”

“What was it?”

“Well, it said that if I followed all the clues, I would be able to find a long-lost piece of very expensive artwork. The note was only signed with a J and an A.”

“Were they someone’s initials?”

“No, there were two separate people. Each letter was probably the first initial of their first name. J and A had hidden the treasure together.”

“What did you do with the note?”

“Well, the note gave directions to a tree out in the middle of a field. I searched high and low trying to find the treasure. You know what I found?”

“The secret box?”

“Nope. Another clue.”

“Aww, man.”

“This clue was in a code and a riddle. I scratched my head over it for days.”

“But, you figured it out.”

“Eventually. The next place I was lead was to an old school.”

“And the treasure was there?”

“No, but a map was.”

“So, you were close?”

“Yes, I was very close.”

“How did you actually find the treasure?”

“Well, first I couldn’t make heads nor tails of that map. I spent a long time just trying to figure out where it lead to. I was finally able to look at it next to another map and found that the place where the treasure would be found would be hard to get to. It was in the middle of the woods.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I took the map with me the next day, along with a shovel, and trekked out into the trees,”

“What does ‘trekked’ mean?”

“See, this is why you need a thesaurus.”

“What’s it mean?”

“It means hiked. Now, the spot was hard to find, but the map was clearly marked and I didn’t get lost.”

“And you found the treasure?”

“Well, I had to dig it up, first. It was deeper than I thought it was going to be, too. These two knew what they were doing. I dug and dug all day. I was about to give up, when my shovel scraped against the top of the box. See the scratches?”

“Woah. Cool.”

“I stayed out the rest of the night, carefully digging it up the rest. When I finally got it up out of the ground, I took the box home with me to inspect.”

“Was the treasure inside?”

“Sure was. And they were right, too. The art had been a very famous piece and had become even more famous when it went missing. An art collector paid a pretty penny to add it to his collection.”

“Then, why do you still have the secret box?”

“I like to keep a bit of my treasure every time. It reminds me of the adventure. I keep all the notes that lead me to the treasure inside it. Want to see?”

“Yes!”

“See the J and A at the bottom? Two different writing styles. Two different people.”

“Wow. Do you think they’re still alive?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I haven’t talked to them in a long, long time.”

“Wait, you’ve talked to J and A?”

“Oh, yes. After I found the treasure, I did a lot of research. It eventually lead me back to a man named Joshua Terrell.”

“J.”

“Exactly. Now, his best friend growing up was a girl named Avery Sul.”

“A.”

“Correct. So, now I was almost certain it was them who had been the ones who had buried the treasure. And you know what I found? I looked them up and they lived right down the street from me!”

“No way.”

“Yes. Granted, they had buried the treasure a long time ago. They had done it when they were kids and they were racing towards their 70s when I first talked to them.”

“Wait, how did you talk to them together?”

“Because he married her, of course. A perfect match, if you ask me.”

“Who marries their best friend?”

“Smart people, that’s who.”

“Is that all to the treasure story?”

“That’s all to my treasure story, but the Terrells informed me that they buried more than one secret box.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. Apparently, they liked it so much, they buried millions of dollars worth of artifacts around these parts. Mrs Terrell was an expert at creating ciphers and riddles, you know.”

“Grandpa, do you think I’ll be able to find one of the treasures?”

“Maybe, if you look hard enough. Now that you mention it, Mrs Terrell said that she had hidden a clue on this very box somewhere, leading to another treasure. I’ve never been able to find it, but maybe you will.”

“You really think so?”

“Why not? Here, the box is yours.”

“You mean it, Grandpa?”

“I’m much too old to do anymore treasure hunting of my own, but you’re just the right age.”

“Thank you so much, Grandpa!”

“Now, you should be going to bed. We’ll practice breaking codes in the morning.”

“I can’t wait!”

[official-weasley]

You sure do write amazing! Can you please give me some tips on how to write better?

Thanks!

Hi!

First of all, thank you, it means a lot! 🥰

Second of all thank you for the ask. This is my first one so I hope I am doing this properly.

Third of all READ. I would say everything but it's too broad. Read what you're writing. If you're writing fanfic read those. I have learned so much from reading other stories. Also, try and find your own style...if you think it sounds hard it is. I needed years. I was always writing in third person POV and I always felt like something was missing. I find something magical in the fact that you can read a story from first person POV, because you feel like you get to know them better and that you are friends and build a relationship with a character.

I read a few books (Divergent trilogy among them) with first-person POV and I was hooked. It's okay to love someone's writing or their style but while reading them think of WHY you love their style so much and try to implement those characteristics into your writing. Don't worry about sounding similar to someone else. You won't. Each writer's style is unique and at first, it might seem like copying but you will soon develop your own style which will be your own. Copying is learning but do give credit where needed. Also, don't be afraid to experiment with different styles. Nothing you write is wrong. If you keep saying to yourself that your writing can't be right because nobody else is doing it, meaning it isn't following the rules it means you created something entirely yours and I think that is BEAUTIFUL and smart not wrong.

Try to think about what is the most important thing you want to point out in your story. To me, I don't like to read long descriptions of how people and places look like. To me, it's redundant because I have a crazy imagination and I love to create all of that for the characters myself and I like the liberty that I think how a character I am reading about looks like. Think about what is important to you when you write. To me, it's relationships between characters and I tend to focus on that the most.

When it comes to vocabulary I can't be of much help. I suck at it. I am not a native English speaker and finding synonyms or describing a gesture or how a character's expression looks like I struggle every time and it takes the most of my time to do that. It helps to have websites that can help you find these. I have a dictionary for words that I want to translate from my native language. And I have Google always opened to search for word definitions and I saw someone post a website here on Tumblr which has honestly been a lifesaver: onelook.com/thesaurus

Also, one thing that I have noticed helps me a lot is that I write without stopping as much as possible so that the story stays on the original idea line as much as it possibly can. So if you sit down to write a chapter, just do it...no distractions. Don't write a paragraph and go on your phone and then return. Stick to it, it will be better trust me: learn from my mistakes. (Of course, if you have a heavy, emotion-filled chapter like someone dying and you cry while writing...then please do take a break. I needed a week to write Chapter 6 and 7 of Part 8 of the story I am posting now because I was a crying mess and I simply couldn't break my heart more than I did per day). Then I read it and change what I want quickly. Then I run it through Grammarly then I reread it a few more times. Within these times I mark the words or paragraphs which should have different words for what I am describing or where I feel something is missing. I come back to those parts and try searching for different words or instances that can relate to what I have written down.

I also triple-check that I don't have words that repeat. So if I had said said said a few times I will skip it and indicate who is speaking with a gesture they do while saying something. That helps me a lot because I like to repeat words I like a lot!

One thing that I learned is that it doesn't matter how you write as long as you enjoy it. If you write a chapter and you read through it and it makes you smile you have won no matter how it looks in the first draft. Learning to love everything you write is so important and until I had that I thought that my writing sucks and I will never get anywhere.

And yes, I will say it: JUST WRITE MORE. I know it's the biggest cliché but it's true. Also, be patient with yourself and give yourself credit. I always thought that I will never get any better and will always be stuck at the level of writing I have but if I read something I wrote like 7 years ago...even like a year ago, the difference is HUGE and it makes me proud and you should do that as well. Read that cringy story you wrote years ago because it gives a confidence boost when you compare it to your writing now and you see how much you progressed.

ALSO, one thing that helped me a lot and I wish I was doing this sooner (as I just started with the story I am posting now): when you're reading ANYTHING and you find a word or a phrase that intrigues you and you think you could use it at any time in your stories WRITE IT DOWN. If you don't know the meaning write the meaning next to it too. If you have examples where you could use it (your ideas) write that next to it. It has saved me so many times with the story I finished a few weeks ago (and will post it after the ongoing one is finished) because sometimes I see a character doing a gesture or making a certain face in my head and I struggle to describe what I see in my head and having phrases that I read elsewhere written down is so helpful because more you read and you get different ideas how to describe the same thing it's so nice when you find just the right one!

One of the last tips as this is getting too long (I don't know how to describe something in a short sentence): when you get an idea for a story don't just sit down and start writing the first chapter because (and I am talking from my own experience) sooner or later you will get lost, you will get the information wrong and it's just harder for you. What I tend to do is write down all the names of the main characters and write at least 3 things that stand out for them and you might use more than once in your story. For example, if a character gets a gift from someone; write it down WHEN AND WHAT AND FROM WHO. Because if you mention that gift again 20 chapters later you will get frustrated because you won't find that little detail that suddenly became so important and if you have notes and you can find it at once it makes things easier. I also write down chapter summaries. I know it might be hard to know exactly how many chapters you will have (it usually changes for me anyway: for example, the story I will post soon went from the original 10 to 20 chapters because the chapters were just too long and I needed to separate them) or to know at once how the story ends but it makes things 10 times easier and once you start writing chapters down the story just starts to flow and appear in front of you and knowing what you will write about next makes you more focused on the chapter at hand and everything seems more connected and you don't have gaps in your story and inconsistencies. At least for me, it's really easy because I like to push myself to write a chapter per day and I just take my notebook and check what I have to write for that day and then it's suddenly easier because I can just focus on writing the chapter instead of thinking of what to do next.

Of course, all that I just wrote is just an opinion. You should write as you see fit! Don't let anyone tell you that you CAN'T do this or that. It's YOUR writing. YOUR story. You can do whatever you want and write it in the way YOU want. Don't write by the rule book. Write in a way that will make you happy. I have to admit I needed a long time to learn that as I always wanted to follow the rules but I was unhappy and I didn't like what I wrote and I put that on myself thinking my writing is bad when it was just the fact that the style and the rules around it weren't my cup of tea.

Also if you have someone who can read through what you've written and you trust them; give them your story or chapters before you publish them because every story through someone else's eyes is better already. Also, don't be afraid of feedback and criticism. I have never learned more from anything else than criticism. And always take it as positive; a way to better your story and writing. But also know that you don't always have to apply everything someone tells you to do. If you are content with how it is, leave it. Perhaps remember the critique and maybe you'll be able to apply it to a different story. That's how you grow.

Push yourself to write as much as you can. Even if it's a paragraph per day it's something. And most importantly write what you like not what everyone else is doing. If you want to write 30 fics about the same character then do so as long as it brings you joy and makes you happy because no matter how cheesy it sounds it does show in your writing. ❤

I hope I answered your question at least to some degree. I am sorry it's so long I don't know how to write short stuff 🙈

If you have any other questions I would be happy to answer them 🥰

[fandom-collective-writers]

Reader x Jihyun Kim {MysMes} - Letters to Heal a Broken Heart

Title: Letters to Heal a Broken Heart Fandom: Mystic Messenger Character: Jihyun Kim Genre: bittersweet? romance Warnings: spoilers for his good ending!  Intended Gender Audience: Neutral Audience  Word Count: 2040 words POV: second person Other comments: no smut but im proud of this! please note that everything with the push back is a letter! i think its pretty clear, but i wanted to make sure it’s understood <3 Written by: @mythiica​ Req: 

Dear –

I’ll admit, it feels a bit strange writing a letter for you, but my therapist recommended it. He told me to explain my emotions with words, saying it would help me become more confident. 

See, the reasoning behind it, at least from what I remember, is that there is no pressure to think quickly. Writing allows a flow, a sense of movement between the words before you pick which one you wish to use. Talking is different because it follows a completely contrasting rhythm. To keep a conversation going, you have to speak rather quickly so the person stays engaged in the topic. 

It’s all really interesting, and my therapist has given me a book over the fundamentals of other practices like this. I read half of it on the plane to Japan. 

To clarify, I’m writing this from my hotel room in Tokyo. I landed a few hours ago and the jet lag has yet to hit me, so I decided to take advantage of this time to write. 

I think you’d like it here – the sakura are in full bloom and I have three days dedicated to photographing the sea of pinks as they ripple in the wind. Until now, I’ve only seen pictures of the famous parks, and I never thought that I would be able to witness them in person. 

I didn’t think I’d

I never conside

Ah, I should mention, I’m not allowed to erase or cross out sentences I start. Another confidence booster? It’s a bit sillier, but it’s meant to force me to say what is on my mind, rather than letting it fester. I’ll try again: 

During my years under Mint Eye, my vision was narrowed, and I had only one duty. However, I am learning to broaden my horizons and expand my mind to encompass everything. The urge to explore bubbles in my chest, waiting for the moment to come out. There are so many chances to do anything, and I’ve got all the time to do all of it. 

I’ve also realized that I went over my word limit. I have to stick to 300 words or under. Confidence booster #3! Express yourself with less words. Take a guess of how many times I’ve opened the thesaurus, looking for better synonyms for words? At least seven times in the past five minutes. It’s crazy! 

For now, I’ll sign this off and try better next time. 

                                                 よりご多幸を祈って

                                                           Jihyun Kim

PS, I’m practicing my Japanese! That says best wishes… I think. 

नमस्कार

Hello and greetings from India! I took a long nap on the plane, and forgot to write. Although I’m only passing through, I ate some delicious food (that I should really try to replicate for you). India is absolutely beautiful – from the sunrises to the bustling markets to the colorful fabrics hung at every corner. I’ll inhale the air and smell six things at once, albeit, not all of them are the best, but I embrace it nonetheless. 

More about what I’ve been doing: funnily enough, my phone died on the bus ride, but I made a new friend named Sunmi, and she was kind enough to lend me her charging cable. Instead of ending the interaction there, we spoke for a few hours at least. I learned she was traveling with her friends on a photography excursion. She gave me all the information, and I’d like to look into it when I have wifi again. 

You wouldn’t believe what they’ve seen! Last year they went to Antarctica through South America. She got to pet a penguin! Apparently the company also takes people to Greenland and New Zealand – some places I’ve been dreaming of visiting since I was a young boy. 

I’ll use my last 100 words to mention that… I’ve gotten a bit homesick. I miss the RFA – well, the people from the RFA minus… 

Don’t tell Jumin about the company though, he’ll insist on flying me around with his private jet. I want to experience for myself. Saeyoung is somehow messaging me when I don’t have service? I don’t… understand. Anyways, I also saw Zen landed a huge international role (someone had a magazine on the plane). Otherwise, I hope Jaehee and Yoosung are well. And Elizabeth the 3rd of course. Send them my wishes. 

I didn’t forget about you though! The keychain you gave me reminds me of home every day. It might have lost an eye, but I found a button and stitched it on. And I also wanted to ask you–

Ah, I’m over again. 

Next time. 

                                                           Jihyun Kim

Iyi günler! I am in Turkey now and actually writing this on a boat. The sun is setting over the horizon, making the sky change colors with every passing minute. It’s breathtaking, but I wish you were here with me. The other passengers and I take turns standing at the front of the boat, and I sometimes linger, trying to take pictures. 

Good news! My vision is getting better. I’ve been taking some Greek herbal remedies, and the seem to be helping. Either that, or they have a wonderful placebo effect. Has that ever happened to you? To think something is working, but you’re just imagining things? 

I apologize, maybe that stirred bad memories for you. 

Back to Turkey: I stepped out of my comfort zone and spent a night camping. Honestly? I was terrified of doing so, but now I want to do it every night. It is the perfect temperature for hiking, even though I am a bit sunburned. 

So many people have been commenting on my hair. Good things mostly, and I started styling it with a bit of gel to keep it out of my eyes. It feels good to look people directly rather than through a curtain. 

What are you up to? Hosting anymore parties? I imagine that you are keeping busy, as always of course. My therapist said it would be best to wait messaging you until I return home. I nearly called you a week ago, but I didn’t want to break my vow. It’s like lying to myself, and I know better than that now. 

Still, it doesn’t stop me from dreaming. 

                                                           Sending love, 

                                                                     J

I’m genuinely angry, but writing to you always calms me. Someone stole my bag – I luckily didn’t have much in it, but your keychain… can you make me a new one please? Now that I don’t have it, it’s almost like I’ve lost a part of you. It hurts a lot, but then I wonder if I am being silly. It’s just a keychain. 

Otherwise, France is nice. I didn’t want to go to Paris, so instead I traveled through the countryside to visit a few wineries. 

Yes, I did… drink a bit, but I wasn’t impaired when my bag was stolen! 

You would laugh at me if I told you what happened, so I will save the story for another time. Before coming to France, I went through Germany and visited some of the most beautiful castles I’ve ever seen. They all looked like they could be straight from a fantasy movie set, and I was convinced one – Neuschwanstein Castle – actually was. 

I’ve barely written anything despite so much happening. 

I got a haircut (finally), because it was becoming a hassle to tie it back at night. 

One evening, I fed some stray cats and they followed me home. 

And a drunk (?) tried to play cards with me. But he didn’t have cards. He was dealing an imaginary deck. 

Other stories will have to wait until I see you again, and I feel better now. It’s okay to be upset, but it won’t hinder my trip any more. 

                                                           Je t'aime, 

                                                                     Jihyun

Alaska doesn’t have a night. 

That’s not exactly true, but it’s basically true. The hotel has special curtains that block the light, and it is only dark for a few hours. 

It has been many miles since I last wrote, but I was caught up in visiting show after event after party after exhibit through America. Their art has given me a new perspective on point of view and emotions, so I hope that the ten camera chips I’ve filled with photographs will be able to convey the same sense of awe. 

I’ve also been mistaken for an idol? Like – multiple times. Interesting to say the least, maybe I’ll say yes to the next person that asks. What should my stage name be? I’ll spare you the embarrassment and not share my ideas. They are all very silly and no one would believe me if I told them my name was Cam Ra. Do you get it? It’s bad, I know. 

I’ll be returning home soon, unless I get distracted or impulsive and go down to California and Hawaii before coming back. I want to – it doesn’t feel right to return just yet. But that doesn’t mean anything about you! 

Really, I think about you and everyone else each day. 

Have you met new people? We’ll exchange so many stories… 

                                                           See you soon, 

                                                                     J K 

You pace around, waiting for the last guest on the list to appear. The party started an hour ago, but he still has not arrived. Then again, it has been three months since anyone heard a whisper from V, and you start to lose hope. Swallowing hard, you remind yourself that V is having a wonderful time exploring the world and finding himself. 

          Taking a handful of your dress, you turn and head through the doors to the main room. Jumin tries to pull Saeyoung away from Longcat, Yoosung explains his most recent surgeries to a group of nurses from his work place, and Jaehee receives many compliments for her majestic cake. 

         Everyone is happy and has moved on. 

         You hope V has too. 

         Maybe all the wishing and praying finally paid off, because you hear his familiar voice calling out behind you. It’s a long shot, but you turn around nonetheless, thinking it is a different guest. 

         Instead, you see Jihyun, wearing the most dazzling smile you’ve ever seen, running towards you. He’s carrying a folder filled with papers, but that doesn’t stop him from embracing you. He smells rugged, like his voyage has transformed him, but you rather like it. 

         “Jihyun!” You melt against his hug. “You’re.. Here… you’re here!” 

         Your squealing draws everyone’s attention, but he focuses on you and only you. “Of course I’m here. I missed you more than I can verbalize.” 

         His stance is open, welcoming, and confident, much different from two years ago. He is a different person now, brave and proud. Jihyun offers you the folder. It is strange to gift something in the middle of a party, but you accept it anyways, happy he has returned. 

         Jihyun’s heart races as he explains. “I wrote you letters every time I went somewhere new. These are just a few of them, really I have so many. But each shows something I’ve learned.” He takes a breath and laces his fingers with yours. “This is sudden, and I’m sure you will need time to think about it, but I’m trying something new: asking without being afraid. Over the past two years, I’ve… longed for you. Art has shown me the power of friendship, joy, perseverance, and most importantly, dedication. I want to dedicate my art to you, if you’ll stand by my side.” 

         You can’t find the words to express yourself because you are so awestruck. He truly has changed, but he has embraced himself and his life. Tears start to roll down your cheeks from the overwhelming surge of emotions. Jihyun brushes them away and presses his forehead to yours. 

         “I still have much to learn, but I want to do it all with you.” 

         “I’d like that a lot, Jihyun,” you whisper, captivated by his intense gaze. 

         “And I can finally say this without fear–” 

         You tip your head up, and Jihyun kisses you the next moment. His lips are chapped and the warmth radiating from his skin envelops you. He doesn’t need words to communicate it, because you understand perfectly what he is trying to say. 

[confused-beany]

okay not me being super late for the writing asks, but-

1. what made you start writing, 19. where do you get your inspiration from, 31. what's your ideal writing environment and 35. what's the worst writing advice you have ever heard?

You can't be late if you're the only one to the party Michy. Thank you for the ask!

1. Technically, my mother. I was so blissfully ignorant before she brought me into the hell known as Education kicking and screaming and taught me alphabets.

....

Kidding.

I think it really started when I got my laptop and the only thing I could do in there was type. I loved reading but I loved imagining other kinds of stories from the same plotline with completely new characters (which I later learned were called fanfics) and day dreaming new worlds. So, I started writing them out and it went from there.

19. I don't really know. Everywhere and nowhere I guess. Most of the time the ideas just pop randomly when I'm supposed to be doing something - anything- else. I don't really control it.

But with fanfics I look at the cannon content and try to think how I might've done things differently and that's how different scenarios or OCs come out

31. I don't have one. Sometimes the urge hits and I will write over anything I can get my hands on.

35. I like to think all writing advice is good advice because if it's wrong you still learn something from it.

But I think "Don't use the same word. Find thesaurus or synonyms". Because there are only so many words I can find or use without it sounding awkward or completely misplaced. This advice widened my vocabulary a lot but the awkward phase of using 'eyes', 'orbs', 'globe', 'gaze' to describe a character (which is also something I don't enjoy doing) is not something I miss.

[kyndaris]

A Single Step and Then Another

Writing is no small feat. Ever since I was bitten by the writing bug, I’ve struggled with keeping projects afloat and maintaining interest in blog management. Before Tumblr, I tried to start a blog twice on Blogspot (now known as Blogger). Much of that came from my desire to track my days. Like keeping a diary or journal. But interesting things were far and few between. The days of my youth largely blurred together and I could hardly find the time to sit down and jot down my thoughts on school or university.

During primary school, when computers were still churlish machines that chugged along at a snail’s pace, I tried my first attempts at writing fanfiction. I didn’t know what it was called at the time, but my curiosity led me to tease out what happened after the Happily Ever After’s that were promised in certain Disney films such as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. As ever, I proved an astute business woman, selling my perfectly printed books that were stapled on one side on the market for $2 a pop.

Alas, the only person that bought my works of genius was my mother.

High school was when I rediscovered my hobby. I was already an avid reader. Writing, while a more difficult challenge, once more sunk its claws into me. As always, I wrote to entertain - imagining daring mercenaries in a fantasy world or anthropomorphic animals clinging to a dying kingdom. Most were inspired by the stories I read and the video games I played. Many of the characters were named after my friends or were poor caricatures. 

There were times, however, when I was writing that I wondered if perhaps I was stealing too many tropes from such classics as Eragon and the Fire Emblem franchise. As such, I often hewed and hawed over many of my works. By the end of high school, I deleted the one major story that I had sitting on my FictionPress. Mostly because I had no proper idea of where I wanted the narrative to go. And I was just filling it up with utter nonsense.

Yet the idea of a mercenary and a hidden princess persisted. I tried to use it again in my next writing project. Still, the land of Thlandaris never quite reached my lofty expectations. Changing everyday animals into weird fantasy creatures with fantastical names also didn’t help.

And so my writing stalled once again.

It was not until I began working, however, that I found my way back again to the world of writing. Though I hadn’t opened up a blank Word page in a while (at least for anything other than a university assignment or a job application), ideas aplenty danced and tossed around in my head. That, of course, was when I decided to restart my attempts at keeping a blog. Yes, I knew it would never really transpire into something majorly popular (though the hope remained that one of my many articles would become viral and a newspaper would decide to feature it), but I thought it would assist with my attempts at writing.

The going, however, was slow when I began work on Divided We Fall. The story itself went through three drafts. With the last one being the most complete. And while I would have sorely liked to have edited it, it had taken a good four years to arrive at what I had been hoping for. Even during those gruelling years of crafting the characters of Feryden, Elisander, Kiralt and Lathin (who were based on many of my earlier characters), I was also tempted by starting up a new project. Like many before me, it was easy to simply toss away an idea that was taking too long and do something different.

Despite that, I decided to keep a record of my many ideas for future stories. After all, if I could just finish one, then surely I had accomplished something.

Back to Divided We Fall, I went. And gosh darn it, I finished it in 2018. Along the way, of course, I had written several short stories. And, I had also managed to be consistent with my blog updates. Yes, many were just impressions and reviews of the games I played - but churning out one a week was also nothing to scoff at.

But I still had ideas aplenty filling my head. While I was quite taken with the idea of writing a reinterpretation of Snow White, my dear friend Hayatedragoon convinced me to stick with my first idea. The one that I hoped would be published as a short series of books. The Adventures of Lacet and Idana.

Throughout the writing of my stories, there were many times when I wanted to give up or delete everything that I had written. As with most creative types with a hint of perfectionism, I was my own worst critic. No-one would like my characters, I said! My dialogue is atrocious! The singular starting sentence was not enough to capture the attention of readers!

With time, however, I managed to silence those thoughts (mostly). There are times, still, when I have wondered if it has all been worth the blood and sweat. It isn’t as if I have publishers and agents beating down my door. Nor do I have a thousand followers on FictionPress leaving me with positive reviews of the things I have written.

I will be honest, a part of me yearns for the praise. And my genius to be recognised. But to do so, however, would go against the very reason why I began writing. The reason why I wanted to write was to weave my own tales. To explore the stories of characters that do not usually get the spotlight. While Lacet and Idana follow many tropes that are stereotypical to the fantasy genre, I like to think I’ve subverted a few expectations. Lacet is no wise wizard. Nor is he young (and incredibly hot) upstart mage. He is middle-aged. His hair is balding and he has a bit of a stomach. 

Of course, as more chapters of Wild Child are uploaded to my FictionPress, I cannot help but worry if my writing will fall into the trap that so many others have done. Will I have ruined the characters by putting too much of myself into them? Will they all become Mary Sues by the end of it all? Will I overcompensate and so they all become terribly unlikeable? 

In other news, I finished editing Monsters Beneath My Bed a couple of months ago as well. Yet I’ve delayed uploading it until I’ve the entirety of Wild Child is up. And before I could even think to rest on my laurels, I began another short story (which is still in progress at time of writing up the blog post) and committed myself to another novel length story. This time, however, the genre is a departure from my usual stomping grounds. Forget fantasy. Let’s try and commit to a modern adventure/ thriller! 

Already I am regretting my decision. Nothing seems factually accurate and I fear that my attempt might just be deleted given another month or two. 

But I will persist. The key to forging ahead, at least for myself, is to worry not about how perfect the quality of the writing is. That is what the editing process is about. Of course, even after editing, slip-ups can still occur. But by carving out the crude gem can one polish it. Such is the process of writing. And if you think I’m talking out of my arse, well, the first few seconds of Neil Gaiman’s ad for his masterclass in writing also provided the perfect analogy of driving with one headlamp and hoping the editing will make people THINK you knew where the plot was going from the very start.

Getting caught up in the nitty gritty of the perfect prologue (for almost two years) did not allow me to craft the entirety of the story. Nor did it allow me much exploration of the characters and other important facets of the world. 

So, for those that are thinking of trying to write their own masterpiece, all I can say is start it as soon as the idea comes. And never waver. Sure, it might not be as good as you hoped, but all of that can be fixed later on. Also, never be afraid to look up synonyms on Google (or a thesaurus). 

But what I found helpful as well was to learn by reading widely. I mean, authors were published for a reason, right? Let them inspire you on your own writing journey. And question what you can make better.

[allthegodstars]

The Queen Of Nothing

He will be destruction of the crown and the ruination of the throne

Oooh someone's feeling salty

Power is much easier to acquire than it is to hold onto. Jude learned this lesson when she released her control over the wicked king, Cardan, in exchange for immeasurable power. 

Aren't you just exaggerating Cardan's wickedness now

I mean we all read the bonus content, we know my darling switch of a Fae King hasn't earned the repetitive ‘he wicked he the wickedest he the wickedest wicked wicky wocky of the world's wickedest wicked’ reputation yet.

‘Immeasurable’ is kind of a stretch but you do you.

Now as the exiled mortal Queen of Faerie, Jude is powerless and left reeling from Cardan's betrayal.

Honestly with the amount of times Jude's mortality has been brought up I expect her to die in this one. Or just become immortal. Fire breathing bitch queens live forever yesssss 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

She bides her time determined to reclaim everything he took from her. Opportunity arrives in the form of her deceptive twin sister, Taryn, whose mortal life is in peril.

Oooh Jude's going to reclaim Cardan's heart, body and soul. Cause that's what he took from her 😏

And the motherfucking throne.

I really wish Taryn killed Locke for real reals. I would totally forgive her for everything if she destroyed that dipshit troublemaker. But then again I want him to suffer. So.

How come all the mortals here are in a constant state of imma die now

Jude must risk venturing back into the treacherous Faerie Court, and confront her lingering feelings for Cardan, if she wishes to save her sister.

Oh the whole court's treacherous now? I mean sure the Ghost did us dirty and Cardan went all ‘begone murderess of my heart, torment of my soul, I exile thy booty my sweet wifey look soo many loopholes come back to meeeeeee’ and gah I love him

Taryn is literally the worst twin ever but she's not really part of the court and Madoc is... meh we know what he is.

‘Lingering’? Amazon, let me direct you to a thesaurus because that's definitely no synonym for world ending, soul wrenching, all consuming, eternal and undeniable.

But Elfhame is not as she left it.

Oh of course not, Your Mortal Majesty, of course not.

War is brewing.

Hmm that's nice but can I have a side of angsty hate-to-love-we-wed-for-politics-but-not-really sexy times with a nice, zangy dollop of HEA please and thank you

As Jude slips deep within enemy lines she becomes ensnared in the conflict's bloody politics. 

Did she...sneak into Madoc's warcamp? Double agent Jude Greenbriar?

‘My-hubby-who-is-you-know-NOT-my-hubby kicked me out so can I join evil minds with you adoptive father to take down our common, um, enemy? You know you love me and I know you need me so whatcha say wanna go burn down the world’

Divide and conquer? Destroy from the inside? Snek your way to power and eternity? Make Cardan beg and then go for some couple counselling and then reign together forever and ever and ever and produce some cute sassy dramatic little heirs. That last part can be like a hundred years later no problem. Is that the plan, Queen?

Cause if it is...

10000 POINTS TO SLYTHERIN!!!

And, when a dormant yet powerful curse is unleashed, panic spreads throughout the land, forcing her to choose between her ambition and her humanity... 

Gods damn it what is this curse anyway I'm tired of theorizing for literally everything from TSC to Endgame to TFOTA. Just gimme it all right the fuck now.

From the #1 New York Times bestselling author Holly Black, comes the highly anticipated and jaw-dropping finale to The Folk of the Air trilogy. 

[marshmallow-phd]

Synonyms for Furious

Request:  @crossandchange Hey love! I'd like to request a canon scenario where reader, kyungsoo's s/o, is worried about his super busy work schedule and it causes some strain on their relationship. You can even make kyungsoo collapse (please do 😈😈). But uhhh fluffy ending please because my heart can't take sad endings! Congrats on finishing up the wanderers and white out!

A/N: This one was really fun! I hop you like it!

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader

**

Infuriated. Pissed. Enraged. Indignant. Livid.

You needed a thesaurus to describe the level of angry that you were at the moment as you stormed through the doors of the hospital.

In retrospect, you’d always counted yourself lucky. Dating an idol was not an easy feat. Their schedules were crazy, sometimes they were gone for months at a time due to concert tours, and there were nights where they had to cancel dates due to practice running over. But you and Kyungsoo made it work. He was always more responsible when it came to balancing his health and work. He always made time for you so you never felt ignored or forgotten.

Lately, however, things had gone esque.

For some strange reason, Kyungsoo decided that he should take on a drama while preparing for the group comeback. On top of that, it was an action drama. Kyungsoo had been working hard to get in shape enough to handle the stunts that the role demanded. Add that to the long hours that were spent between the studio and the set and you hardly saw him, which just added to your worry. You were okay with him not being to come over as often as he had in the past as you always tried to be understanding, but the reason for his current absence made you uneasy. In the few times he’d called you, he always sounded exhausted. The last time he’d called, he’d fallen asleep only five minutes into the conversation.  

And now he’d actually collapsed during practice. Jongin had called you to let you know that they were rushing Kyungsoo to the hospital. You immediate dropped what you were doing and got here as fast as you could.

This kind of behavior is something you’d expect from Junmyeon, Jongin or maybe even Sehun; not knowing when to quit or give their body a break. Your boyfriend didn’t do this to himself.

A majority of the boys had other schedules they were forced to attend so only Jongin was waiting out in the hallway for you when you finally found the right wing.

“What the hell happened?” you demanded as soon as you came to a stop in front of him.

Instead of answering you immediately, Jongin stood up from his seat and pulled you into a hug whispering, “It’s alright. He’ll be okay.”

As much as you loved the dancer’s hugs, right now at this moment it was not what you wanted. Without being too forceful about it so you didn’t hurt his feelings, you pushed him away.

“What. Happened.”

Sighing, Jongin brushed his fingers through his hair. “We were running through the dance routine for the millionth time. I could tell Kyungsoo was getting tired, but he insisted on continuing. He wanted to get as much practice in before he had to leave for the set. Right before his part, he ran over to a trash can and threw up before passing out. The doctors think it’s a mix of dehydration and exhaustion.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to punch some sense into your boyfriend. Unfortunately, you were in a hospital littered with cameras.

A nurse came out of one of the private rooms and walked up to you and Jongin.

“He’s ready for visitors now,” she informed you before continuing on down the hall, eyes scanning the clipboard in her hands.

Jongin nudged you. “Go on. I’ll come back and see him later.”

Nodding, you patted him on the shoulder before heading for the room.

“Don’t tell him I was the one who called you!” Jongin called out before disappearing around the corner. You rolled your eyes before entering the private room.

Kyungsoo was wide awake, messing with a loose string on the hospital blanket that was draped over his legs. He was sitting up thanks to the bed being lifted to a high angle, with an IV in his arm and a few different wires taped to his chest. When he saw you, he let out a deep breath. “You didn’t have to come all the way here.”

If he was expecting you to fawn over him or cry or start nursing him back to health, he was in for a big surprise.

“You’re right,” you snapped. “I shouldn’t have to come all the way down to the hospital because my boyfriend didn’t know when to stop and take a break.” Grabbing the chair, you put it a good distance from the bed before sitting down. Any closer and you’d be tempted to grab one of those pillows and smack some sense into him. “What is going on with you lately?”

Not answering your question, Kyungsoo held out his hand to you. “(y/n), come here.”

“No.” You fortified yourself down into the chair, crossing your arms. “Tell me where your sense and concern for your own well being went. You always listened to your body when it told you that it needed a break. But now? Kyungsoo, you’ve never collapse like this before!”

He flinched when your voice rose to shouting level. “It’s just part of being an idol.”

You scoffed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’ve done just fine for the past several years without it coming to this.”

When he stayed quiet, you gave up.

“Fine.” You stood up from the chair, looking him in the eye. “You don’t want to tell me what’s going on, fine. When you’re ready to talk, come find me. Until then, good luck with your comeback.” Spinning on the balls of your feet, you headed for the door.”

“No, wait!”

The bed squeaked behind you when you didn’t stop. Unable to fight the need to turn around, you glanced over your shoulder to find Kyungsoo trying to get out of the bed.

“Oh, my god, Kyungsoo!” You ran to him and forced him back into the bed. As upset with him as you were, you couldn’t let him hurt himself further. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He huffed, the simple action of trying to get out of bed having taken most of the energy he’d stored up. “You said to come get you when I was ready to talk.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat down on the bed. “Okay. Talk.”

The corner of Kyungsoo’s mouth twitched as he struggled to find the words. The anger inside was starting to die down. You just wanted the answer now. And you hated being mad at his stupid face, anyway. You weren’t good at holding anything resembling a grudge against him.

“I’ve just been watching how hard everyone else was working and it felt like I was being lazy,” he admitted.

Your jaw dropped. “Kyungsoo, how could you ever feel lazy? Last year, you were in two movies on top of a world tour as well as going on variety shows and photo shoots. You are by far not the laziest one of the group. None of you are lazy. You all work hard in your own ways.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “Except for Chanyeol, who plays video games all day.”

It couldn’t be helped. You punch him in the shoulder, but there was absolutely no power behind it. “Chanyeol does more than play video games all day.”

There is was. The beautiful heart shaped smile that made your heart flutter every time, no matter how many times you’d seen it.

Careful not to tangle you up in the IV tube, Kyungsoo pulled you in close to his chest, kissing the top of your head. “I promise, once the comeback and drama are over, I’ll take a nice long break.”

That made you feel immensely better. You knew when Kyungsoo promised something, he kept his word. Adjusting your position, you scooted in closer to his side as you both leaned back into the bed.

“Do you think we could finally take that vacation we’ve been planning forever?” you suggested.

Intertwining your fingers with his, he nodded. “Absolutely. Let’s go someplace quiet. And with no cellphone reception.”

“That sounds perfect,” you whispered. Looking up at him, you warned, “If you ever pass out again, I’m killing you myself.”

That just made him laugh harder. “And they call me satan.”

[possibility221]

21 Questions

Rules: Answer 21 questions and then tag 21 people who you want to know better.

Tagged by @hale-of-stiles-heart

Thank you for tagging me!

Nickname: None

Zodiac: Gemini

Height: 5′0″

Last Movie I Saw: Green Book. Viggo Mortensen and Mahershala Ali were excellent. I was moved.

Last Thing I Googled: Thesaurus, to look for synonyms of dowdy; also, in the personalized newsfeed, there was an article about Michelle Yeoh set to star in a Star Trek: Discovery spin-off.

Favorite Musician(s): Elton John, Itzhak Perlman

Song Stuck In My Head: I Don’t Know How to Love Him (Yvonne Elliman or Helen Reddy).

Other Blogs: None.

Do I Get Asks: Not very often.

Following: 11 (sorry, I can barely get through the daily dashboard with these few)

Followers: 1416 (thank you!)

Amount of Sleep: 5 to 7 hours/night 

Lucky Number: 6 (from a numerology quiz I took many years ago)

What I’m Wearing: Gray sweatpants and cream color top covered with black, scroll-y, botanical design

Dream Job: Biological illustrator.

Dream Trip: So many: Viking River Cruise in Europe or China, also want to revisit Japan (haven’t been there in many years).

Favorite Food: So many: curries (Indian or Japanese), dim sum, chile relleno, pork belly, crème brulee

Play An Instruments? No

Languages: English, some basic Japanese

Favorite Songs: Photograph (Ringo Starr), Your Song (Elton John), Don’t Stop Me Now (Queen), Moondance (Van Morrison), Show and Tell (Al Wilson), I’ll Be Around (Spinners)

Random Fact: Seattle-ization: steep rise in the cost of living (after I left there, the index went from 115 to the  highest,154, with 100 being average for US cities).

Describe Yourself In Aesthetic Terms: Not sure what this means but I’ll try: Surrounded by walls of books, I lounge on the cushions of the rattan chair in the sun room; looking out through large windows I see an egret gracefully landing, the reverie broken by the honking of an agitated Sandhill crane; I reach for my paintbrush.

  I don’t know 21 people to tag either so I’ll tag a few @queensofmystery, @amindamazed, @nairobiwonders, @theromanticrationalist, @fisforfreakyme, @memadcow,  @katasstrophee, and anyone else who would like to do this (but please don’t feel obligated; this one takes some time)

[themagiciansreccenter]

Author Spotlight: @highkingfen

Every week we are going to be interviewing a writer from The Magicians fandom. If you would like to be interviewed or you want to nominate a writer, get in touch via our ask box.

First things first, tell us a little about yourself.

I am Cath, I’m 27 years old, I speak French and I live in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. I met my husband on Tumblr, I love cosplaying and doing edits in photoshop. My main blog is @booksandanxieties and, my other side blogs are @themagiciansweirdface and @fillorymedia. I also co-own @neitherlandslibrary.

How long have you been writing for?

Since I am 12, there’s some french harry potter fic written by me in the dark web of ff.net.

What inspired you to start writing for The Magicians?

I missed writing! And there was not a lot of fics when I join (Still remember there were only 15 pages on ao3)

Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write? What it is about them that makes them your favourite?

Arielle and Fen, which is odd I am aware ahha! I adore writing about them because first, we don’t get to see them a lot and I love to explore what they could be and their story and I love writing about what it is to live in Filory and all of its lore, they are both great protagonists to do so.

Do you have a preference for a particular season/point in time to write about?

Lately, I have been fixed on 3x05 (life in the day) because I wrote an entire fic named The Golden Tile that is about the first five years of Eliot and Quentin in Fillory’s past. I love rewriting whole season with canon divergences. What if’s are fun to write especially in this fandom, the timelines make it easy to do it!

Are you working on anything right now? Care to give us an idea about it?

As some may know, I am currently writing an Unofficial The Magicians dnd book! ( @unofficialmagiciansdnd ) It is about 65% done. I have still some of the mechanics to write and a lot of lists to create (Such as a list of spells or a list of magical creatures)

I also write on the side Book 2 of The Golden Tile named Under Pressure. I finished the first fic with a surprise plot twist that was canon divergent, with the second book I explore the consequence; what if Eliot and Quentin found the golden tile 5 years into their quest and comes back on Earth 5 years older with Arielle and Rupert.

How long is your “to do list”?

Not so long, I try to focus on what I write and I tend not to think of other things. But I do have a Twin!Au with Fen and Q that I want to write and Book 2 of my Fenfic where we see her point of view during season 2 and 3.

What is your favourite fic that you’ve written for The Magicians? Why?

That’s cruel to ask. I have two that I am rather proud but if I have to choose, I’d say The Girl from the World in The Wall (that I nicknamed my fenfic) which is the story of Fen before Eliot. We follow her from her 2 years old until she married the High King, learning his name on the altar.

I had started to write it after season 2, totally in love with Fen and mad that we didn’t know anything about her and mad at how the gang treated her. So I wondered what it was to be raised knowing you might marry a king. The word might is important since they didn’t know if Eliot would ever come. I wanted to explore how did she join the FU Fighter and why, despite her beliefs, she accepts her forced marriage. There was a lot to explore there so I started to untangle everything and ended up having to create lore for Fillory because we do not know much of what it is to be a farmer, knifemakers, peasant, in this land. I fell deeply in love with the lore and discovered in Fen a strong woman that decided to choose love and kindness, not out of naivety, but because it is the right thing to do.

When Season 3 aired, I’d finished writing the fic (it was a NaNoWriMo goal) and I was more than happy to discover that what I’d written actually fit what they wrote about her. I ADORE that we got to know her more and don’t get me started on her being an acting king.

P.s: Some of the lore in the Fenfic ended up leaking in The Golden Tile; I love tying my fics in one large universe.

Many writers have a fic that they are passionate about that doesn’t get the reception from the fandom that they hoped for. Do you have a fic you would like more people to read and appreciate?

My fenfic, hands down. I wish they would read The Girl from the world in the wall to see where most of the lore and my love of Fillory comes from. Fen is underestimated in the fandom (Though less since season 3) and deserve more recognition.

What is your writing process like? Do you have any traditions or superstitions that you like to stick to when you’re writing?

I listen to podcasts all the time so when I write, I need silence. Music distracts me. I always need the thesaurus synonym because I tend to use the same word over and over or know what a word means but finding it imprecise. Which makes writing without internet hard, but now that I know its a must, I try as much as I can, to write where wifi is. Also, I can’t write if someone is in the room. Even if they are doing their own stuff. I don’t know why. Even when I was writing essays for classes it was like that.

Do you write while the seasons are airing or do you prefer to wait for hiatus? How does the ongoing development of the canon influence and inspire your writing process?

I had nothing really going during season 3 and then episode 5 happen and I kinda exploded. Knowing it was a self-contained story (the life having already been lived by Q and Eliot) I started to write while it was airing. It is at the end of it that I decided that the ending of The Golden Tile could be interesting if it was canon divergent; I’m excited to see what Arielle and Rupert bring into the group and if it will lead toward the same choice. Only time will tell!

Otherwise, I usually write One Shot during airing season time, that way I don’t have to overthink things if what I write is not canon compliant anymore.

What has been the most challenging fic for you to write?

My Fenfic. Maybe that’s why it is the one I am the proudest of. To have to create a whole character and yet stick to the canon was exciting. As well as reading as much as I can about Fillory. There was not a lot about it online at the time, so it had been meticulous research (I had the map of FIllory open most of the time I was writing just to be sure of the place I was saying were compliant. ) Before I never did much research before writing a fic, now it is one of my favorite parts

Are there any themes or tropes that you particularly like to explore in your writing?

Canon divergence, as you can see! I love to see the butterfly effect and how one thing can change the whole story. My first longfic Shake it off was about Eliot forcing back Quentin on his med. And that changed a lot of things! Yay for timelines that can make us say its canon!

Are there any writers that inspire your work? Fanfiction or otherwise?

J.K Rowling will always be important for my writing because her universe made me want to write. I read a lot of YA so I can say the author influence my writing because, through reading, I discover what I like and what I don’t which makes me better in the end.

Fanfic-wise, I discovered a lot of great author in this fandom and I hate naming people because if I don’t name someone they might be sad or get discouraged, and I don’t want that. I adore that we got so many writers and that the subjects are so different. It’s not only one trope on one ship over and over. Sometimes I read a summary and I laughed cause I wonder how the author came up with the idea! It made me want to be better and write more elaborate and less easy trope fics.

What are you currently reading? Fanfiction or otherwise?

Depression had kicked my ass with reading. I went from reading 92 books last year to 4 this year. So yeah, I don’t read as much, but I try to get back in, now that I am feeling better.

I just finished reading There there be Gerblins, a graphic novel of the first arch of The Adventure Zone podcast. It’s really good and funny. In fact, this podcast is part of the inspiration of me writing the DND book.

The Dnd book writing means that I carry everywhere the 5th edition of Dungeon and Dragon with me. It is not a copycat of it, but there are mechanics that are the same or, sometimes, they help me just figure out how to structure the book itself. I love the weird look I get when I go to Starbuck with it.

I just bought a new book by J.K Rowling name Very Good lives and I am excited to read it when I’m going in my next trip; a plane without wifi is a good excuse to read.

Fanfic wise; I usually binge. I wait a month or two and then read everything I haven’t read. But one fic I read the moment there is a new chapter is The Mess We Made by Rays. I looooovelove love it. A must read

What is the most valuable piece of writing advice you’ve ever been given?

Write first, edit after. Otherwise, you’ll edit the same paragraph the rest of your life.

that or

If 50 shades of gray can be published, you can do it.

they are my two mottoes.

Cringe time:

Are there any words or phrases you worry about overusing in your work?

oh, I have a ton of them. I can’t think of one example but sometimes I get stuck on a word on a paragraph and I am using it for like ever. Hense the wonder of thesaurus synonym website.

What was the first fanfic that you wrote? Do you still have access to it?

A harry potter one, I probably can find it. I don’t want to. LOL

Rapid Fire Round:

Self-edit or Beta? Self-edit, trying the Beta for Under Pressure!

Comments or Kudos/Reblogs or Likes? COMMENTS FOR SURE I LIVE FOR THOSE. how many time did one comment make me continue to write! But honestly, anytime someone acknowledges they read my thing, I am happy and blown away. I forget sometimes, that people want to read my stuff.

Smut, Fluff or Angst? All of the above? Honestly? Depend on the mood!

Quick & Dirty or Slow Burn? Depend on the mood too! Usually slow burn but sometimes a good Quick & Dirty is always good

Favourite season? 3

Favourite episode? Six Stories about Magic

Favourite book(The Magicians books)? The first one

Three favourite words? Bunny, kindness, writing

Want to be interviewed for our author spotlight? Get in touch here.

[tancong]

A Piece of Me (Chapter 7)

The final chapter of the series~ I hope you all enjoyed!

Recommended song for reading~

The months following seemed to slowly become less and less productive for Angela as it went on. Sure she went on missions and made progress on her papers and research. She even managed to not blow something up in her lab since that incident, though that never stopped Genji from assisting her in his combat gear.

However, if she thought about it hard enough, the rate that she worked at definitely slowed down. Actually, perhaps she was working more productively. Despite feeling as if she has been just chatting with Genji half of the time she’s in her lab, she was putting out results and achieving successful or at least conclusive experiments at a consistent rate that was similar to her usual pace.

It did not feel like they talked about her work. She was worried that she would bore him to death with her constant talk about it. What used to be a mental thinking process and explanation became a vocal routine as she explained her steps and analysis to the man standing nearby.

The new routine could definitely be a large part of why she thought faster and could figure things out so well. He was even able to give useful inputs from time to time, much to her surprise, as if he had worked with some of these things before.

Even so, it only happened during half of the time she spent in the lab. As for the other half, she felt as if she just spent it talking to him about completely irrelevant things. Sometimes she would stop during these chats with a new idea to try or jot down on her tablet to look into later. Most of them, however, were not like that.

It was everything from his past and experiences to hers. She did not know when he began to open himself and his life to her. She noticed that his stories never strayed near the time when they would have worked together. Even if it did, the focus was never on him nor her. It was always about the team.

While curious, it helped her understand him more. She shared things about her life as well, to which he simply smiled and sat gazing at her affectionately as he listened attentively without ever interrupting. Very rarely, he would ask a specific general question about her story which would remind her of something interesting she neglected to tell. It took her a while but eventually, she figured out that just perhaps, this was not the first time she had told him these stories.

When she asked about it, Genji admitted that it was true. When asked about why he never stopped her, it only took six words to stop her from being able to speak.

“Because I love hearing you tell them.”

She vaguely recalled him explain sheepishly that he meant he enjoyed hearing her talk so passionately about herself. Something about the way she sat on the table, her eyes gazing far away and fondly at her past. Maybe something about her various amusing expressions while she sipped her coffee. Her voice too. He used a thesaurus’ worth of synonyms for “lovely” about it.

At the end of the day, those six words were what stayed in her mind. The more she thought about it, the more she felt the same way toward him. He was just a wonderful storyteller. He could pull her along so easily with his story, unable to stop herself from eagerly prodding him with questions and insistence for more details. He even teased her to get that reaction out of her sometimes, pausing and pretending to think. She just knew he was.

In addition to these chats, she had been getting more rest and food for herself than she had before. It was ironic for her own patient to take care of her but somehow, it just felt so fitting for him to do that to her.

One morning, she awoke with her heart racing and cheeks hot. In her dreams, Genji’s story about him and a young woman back in his youth at a festival in Japan was not just about an unnamed woman. It was with her, dressed in a kimono that she knew she still owned.

It was not hard to arrange a day off to return to her home, or at least the mess of a house that she considered her home. After some rummaging, her eyes widened as she found it. That beautiful white kimono decorated with cherry blossom design she saw herself wearing in her dream.

That was the same moment that Angela realized that she had fallen in love. What else could explain her shyness around the cyborg? The excitement she felt to see herself by him in her dream. The warm feeling of being near him, listening to his voice, and having him fuss over her health and life.

Angela clutched the kimono to her chest, her eyes staring at the mirror on the wardrobe door. She wondered how she looked in it. He told her that it had been over a decade since that day. She wondered how he had really reacted the first time he saw her. She wondered what he would think now.

The kimono was neatly packed and taken with her on the ride back. She did not know what to do now. Her heart was no longer but she felt as giddy as a high school girl. She had plenty of crushes and moments in her past, or well maybe she was exaggerating. She convinced herself that she had the experience and confidence she needed.

After two weeks of consideration and hyping herself up, Angela eventually surrendered herself to her fate and came to Lena for advice. The young lady listened attentively as ever whenever a serious topic came up but there was a quirky smile on her face the whole time.

“What are you so worried about love? Just be yourself and ask however you feel most comfortable.”

Angela let out an exasperated sigh and frowned at her. “That’s the problem I’m here for! All I’ve been comfortable about with him has been involving lab work! I can’t even talk to him normally.”

Lena covered her mouth as she giggled, trying to deny that she was laughing at Angela and apologize at the same time, resulting in her failing to do both rather miserably. It took almost a minute before she finally recovered enough to speak.

“I-I see. Well, anyway, just try your best! I’ll be rooting for you. It can’t be that hard. You already did it once.”

At Angela’s puzzled and inquisitive expression, Lena covered her mouth and glanced away before sheepishly smiling and softly asking, “Was I not supposed to say that?”

This left Angela to rush over to Genji’s dorm deep in thought and confusion as Lena quickly excused herself to a squad meeting. Knocking on his door and calling his name proved to be of no avail, leaving her frustrated as she quickly realized that he was probably also in the squad meeting.

Just to be safe, she placed her finger on the dorm’s finger pad, which served as a multipurpose tool for the occupant to unlock the door with their fingerprint and a door alarm indicating the identity of the visitor should they not wish to knock.

Much to her surprise, the door slid open. Angela had to double check the name on the nameplate above the door before cautiously stepping inside. There was a chance that he had opened it for her after all but that proved to be wrong. A sigh came from her lips, though Angela was not one to waste an opportunity. With her newfound knowledge of her feelings and need to know more about how to approach her new predicament, she took the moment to analyze his neat dorm.

While most were what she would expect from a Japanese cyborg ninja including the comfortable-looking kotatsu, there was a single item that caught her eyes as she turned to leave his privacy intact. It was perhaps the most private thing in the room, and by the Gods, Angela was going to pick it up and open it.

The journal was neatly bound and had a beautiful traditional design on the cover with a smooth almost authentically wooden texture. The pages were normal lined pages much to her disappointment but their content was exactly everything she hoped for.

There were so many things that she did not know about his thoughts. They were things that she wished he would have told her about. Many of his entries were normal enough, recording his day and the such as if a reminder to tell the story to someone else.

Knowing time was short, she flipped to the most recent entries. It was only then that her jaw dropped as she read the words on the page over and over again. Then she turned back a page. Then another. Then one last one before she gently closed the journal and placed it back on the table where she had picked it up from.

Angela quickly left the room with hurried steps as fast as her thoughts raced. When she finally made it back to her room, she collapsed face first onto her bed, lying still for a few moments before letting out a muffled cry into her bed sheets.

She had wanted to know his feelings toward her of course. He had wanted to know what he had thought of her and whether he would reciprocate her feelings. She found all that and so much more.

Ever since the first day of her new life, she had been haunted by the memories of how the light had died out of his eyes. She had figured that she was someone important to him of course but she would never have thought …

Looking back, the hints were all there. The way he collapsed into her after that foolish mission. The way he gazed at her. How every day spent with her seemed to make him regain some of that softness and light in his eyes.

“Stupid stupid stupid! How could I have … Argh!” Angela turned on the bed, hugging her pillow tightly to her chest. “It’s your fault too Genji. Why did you …”

As if he had heard her, there was a familiar knock on her door. The same way that a certain cyborg always knocked on the door of her lab. She sat up with a start and fixed her bed, brushing her hand over her hair but knowing that it was probably futile. With a deep breath, she told the door AI verbally to allow him in.

Genji came in, taking a glance around the room before settling his eyes upon her. He gave her a small smile that didn’t quite match the concern in his eyes.

“Are you alright? I checked the lab and someone told me that they saw you rushing through the dorm hallways so I thought I would check on you …”

There he goes again, worrying about her when she should have been doing so for him. Well, she couldn’t blame him. In his position, she would have probably done the same thing. However, how could she not have ever thought about why he did it all?

Angela simply patted the spot on the bed at her side, prompting Genji to walk over and sit by her, his concerned expression undiminishing as he did so wordlessly.

They sat there together for a moment, Angela looking at her lap where her hands laid, twiddling her fingers in thought as Genji simply gazed at her patiently. She let out a soft sigh and looked up at the eyes of the concerned man beside her.

“I’m lost Genji. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’ve been lost and never realized it.”

Genji thought for a moment before opening his lips. However, he closed them again, his expression thoughtful during the silence. When he finally spoke, he accompanied the soothing low tone of his voice with a comforting smile to match his eyes.

“Follow your heart. I know it may sound strange to a doctor, but times come when your logic and rationality can no longer pull you through, that’s what will get you to where you really want to be.”

Angela looked at him, letting out a soft chuckle. “What are you, my philosophy professor?”

Her face sobered up soon enough as her gaze went down to her hands once more. She could do so many things with her hands. Every thought and idea she could form in her mind could be done with her hands. Yet right then, there was no solution she could translate into a language her body or words could ever convey.

“And what if that ends up … blowing something up as a result?”

Genji chuckled and patted her head. “And since when has an explosion stopped you from trying again?”

Angela met his eyes, expressing her genuine fear for the first time. Fear that this time, she would make something go so wrong that she could never hope to repair the damage. It was an expression that Genji had never seen before and one that she would have never thought she would express in her life.

“And what if I can’t fix it?”

Genji smiled at her brightly. “Then I’ll be there to help you do so.”

Angela blinked at him, her lips open to say something about how he was wrong. How could he possibly fix a mistake she made with him? After all this time, could he really still love her the same way that she now loved him? Who was he in love with? Was it her or her past self?

However, all her fears and worries were washed away as she allowed herself to be wrapped in the warmth in his eyes. They were so compassionate and filled with love. And she knew. She knew that they were directed at her and only her.

He wasn’t looking at an image of her that she had lost. He did not fight or help her with work because of an old love. He did it for her, Angela Ziegler, because he saw something in her that she may have forgotten but never changed.

No that wasn’t quite right. He fell in love with who she was. Nothing ever changed since that day she lost all her memory of him. And just like him, she fell in love with who he was. Because even if she had forgotten everything about him, she had all the time in the world to relearn it now.

Angela gently dropped her head onto his lap, making him freeze in surprise before settling in a comfortable position for the both of them. His hand followed her, finding its way back to her head as he stroked her hair lovingly.

“What if the explosion hurts you?”

“Well as long as you’re not hurt, that’s all I care about. Besides, you’ve healed me so many times before, there’s nothing for me to fear.”

Angela let out a sigh of disbelief followed by a soft laugh as she turned her head to gaze up at him from her lap pillow.

“I hate you. You know exactly what we’re talking about don’t you?”

Genji feigned shock at the accusation, ceasing his petting to covering his mouth as if he had gasped. “I’m hurt. I thought we had something together. Wait sorry, what were we talking about?” A sly smile was badly concealed as he finished.

Angela laughed cheerfully, covering her lips as she rolled over once more to hide her face from his sight. Honestly, he was the worst. But she supposed that perhaps this was why she fell in love with him to begin with.

Her laughter died down as she looked down at the ground before turning to frown up at him.

“I can’t believe you never told me that we had been a couple before the event.”

Genji froze for a moment before returning her frown with one of his own. “I can’t believe you broke into my dorm to read my personal journal.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that the door opened when I tried the doorbell and there was a journal conveniently nearby.”

“Oh right, you’re still registered … Wait, hold on that’s not the important part here. That doesn’t mean you can just waltz in and peek at my journal. What if I did that to you hrm?”

“Well, for one, I don’t keep my journal out in plain sight.”

“Well I, for one, did not expect a nosy doctor to find her way into my dorm. More importantly, you never said you don’t have one.”

“... I don’t.”

“Show me it.”

“I-I don’t have one.”

A frown from the cyborg accompanied by a soft cheek pinch made her yelp, though not enough to remove her head from his lap.

“Fine fine, I’ll show it to you later. It’s mostly just ideas for my research anyway.”

“Mostly.”

“Shut up.”

And so he did. Genji closed his eyes, a smile on his lips as he continued to stroke her hair gently. A soft song came from his throat in a gentle hum, lulling Angela to sleep.

Before she did, she mumbled something which caused Genji to stop.

“I said, thank you for everything Genji. I really do mean it …”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry too, for forgetting everything.”

A soft kiss found its way to her forehead, making her turn to open her eyes sleepily at the softly smiling man holding her so close.

“Well, we’ll just have to create all those memories again, won’t we? And many many more. I have all the time in the world if you would have it.”

Angela smiled and buried her face against his abs to hide it, curling up comfortably.

“I’ll confess properly tomorrow. You better make time for that, if nothing else.”

Genji chuckled and nodded even though she couldn’t see it. “Of course.”

* * * * * * * *

The rest of the day went by after Angela woke up alone in her bed, wrapped in her blanket. Little work was done with her mind racing and so many things for her to prepare. The next morning came without any bother, though strangely enough, she saw many people on her way to meet Genji. Many of the Overwatch members greeted her and acted normally, as they should have.

Yet there were a few too many of them. And she could have sworn that she saw some even exchanging money in the hallways after they left her side.

“Genji, were they betting on when we would get back together?”

“Most likely.”

“Did you participate?”

“Of course not. I knew I had to save my money for planning our dates. Sushi restaurants are expensive you know.”

“Wait, you planned a date for today? I wasn't informed of this.”

“Consider yourself informed, Miss Ziegler.”

“And we’re heading to a sushi restaurant.”

“No, we’re actually flying to Japan for the festival.”

“So … We are going to a sushi restaurant.”

“Well yes but I’m also serious about the festival part.”

Angela’s eyes lit up as she clapped her hands together and began to run back to her room. She motioned for him to wait there despite his incredulous expression and shock at losing his chance to tease her about not having any outfits to wear and to offer her the new dress he bought just for her.

However, it would definitely all be worth it when she comes back with her white kimono and a dazzlingly confident smile that he knew and love. As expected of the doctor, she’ll never cease to amaze him.

Before then though, Angela paused in her steps as she turned around and ran back to him, leaving him even more confused than before. She then gave him a bright sweet smile, her eyes soft and shining with love as she spoke warmly. Words that were sealed with a kiss on his lips before she ran back to her dorm.

“I love you, Genji.”

Chapter 1: Alive Chapter 1.5: Journal Entry 1 Chapter 2: Lost Chapter 2.5: Journal Entry 2 Chapter 3: Square One Chapter 3.5: Journal Entry 3 Chapter 4: The Vengeful Blade Chapter 4.5: Journal Entry 4 Chapter 5: Experiments, Experience, and Emotions Chapter 6: Morning’s Due

[theconservativebrief]

I would like to dedicate this piece to the hero who untied Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos’s $40 million dollar yacht from its mooring two weeks ago. I’d love it if someone could also untie her 22,000 square foot nautical-themed summer mansion, located in Holland, Michigan, as well, even though it might take a few more years of climate change before it can float away into the depths.

My mission for the past three years as the creator of the architectural humor blog McMansion Hell has been to unpack what makes mansions like DeVos’s so terrible, from both an architecture and social standpoint. It’s bad enough that we have a president who oversaw a massive redistribution of wealth toward the already wealthy through tax breaks. What’s worse is that obscenely wealthy people like him waste all their money building pseudo-castles and other eclectic tragedies all while wagging their finger at the rest of us telling us to eat cake.

Trump official and fellow rich person Betsy DeVos just rolled back Obama administration loan forgiveness rules for students defrauded by for-profit colleges. It’s unsurprising that she doesn’t want to forgive the student loan debts of those defrauded by for-profit colleges considering that she got her net worth of more than $1 billion from her husband’s company, multi-level marketing giant, Amway, is often described as a cult. Meanwhile, her brother Erik Prince owns the Blackwater firm which essentially sells mercenaries. As we can see, we are not dealing with nice people.

As someone who personally owes tens of thousands of dollars in student loan debt, getting paid to make fun of DeVos’s tacky seaside decor is one of few ways to both feed myself and make myself feel better.

Kate Wagner/Advance Media/Barcroft Images

Betsy’s house is, in general a mess. The home attempts to play on the historical American school of architecture known as the shingle style. This style, often seen by historians as a combination of the emerging Arts and Crafts movement and 19th-century eclecticism is known for its extensive use of shingles as a building material and its multi-massed (massing is a fancy word for a buildings’ three-dimensional forms) architectural complexity. Betsy likely went with this style because it is very popular in New England and in coastal enclaves of the rich and famous in general.

Kate Wagner / Advance Media / Barcroft Images

Even though Betsy is riffing on the shingle style, there is a difference between architectural complexity and a mess, just as there is a difference between a masterful use of vocabulary and replacing every word in a sentence with the longest synonym you can find in the thesaurus.

Betsy’s house looks like a compound of multiple unfinished parts, and nothing about its hulking facade really gels. This is partially because it has no fewer than 13 different window styles — yes, I counted them — and because each of the wings of the house try (perhaps intentionally) to be very visually different from one another.

Kate Wagner/Pricey Pads

For example, why is there a massive turret tacked on as if they couldn’t quite commit to a separate lighthouse? The house’s roofline somehow includes three separate roof types (clipped gable, dutch gable, and hipped)? Why are some columns stone and others wood? Why do none of the doors seem to be the front door? (Is there even a front door?) It’s a classic case of too many cooks in the kitchen, and none of those cooks are good at their job.

I don’t know how much this house cost, but according to the topical website PriceyPads.com, the house has three bedrooms and 10 bathrooms, three kitchens, eight dishwashers, 13 porches, and an elevator. Something about that ratio of bedrooms to dishwashers seems off to me, but what would I, a mere wretch, too dumb and poor to avoid being exploited by the predatory cost of higher education, know?

Kate Wagner/Pricey Pads

While the repairs are underway on one of her 10 boats, maybe poor Betsy can spare some of her precious time (otherwise spent being the villain of a Charles Dickens novel) reading essays like M.H. Miller’s in The Baffler, which describes in detail the toll student loan debt repayment takes on working families. Or she could take a gander at a recent Time article about how an entire generation of people have negative wealth.

Kate Wagner/Pricey Pads

In America, the rich get richer, and the poor have to beg the federal government to forgive the debts they owe to predatory for-profit colleges run by the rich who keep on getting richer. What do the rich do with all their money? Build horrific monstrosities with eight dishwashers and dismantle the public school system.

Architecture is never a vacuum. This house sucks, but like all buildings, it is a reflection of both the people and the broader culture that make building it both possible and desirable. Those, too, irrefutably suck.

Kate Wagner is the creator of the viral blog McMansion Hell and a freelance design writer. Kate is $42,000 in student loan debt for her MA in architectural acoustics from Johns Hopkins University.

First Person is Vox’s home for compelling, provocative narrative essays. Do you have a story to share? Read our submission guidelines, and pitch us at firstperson@vox.com.

Original Source -> Betsy DeVos’s summer mansion, explained by the blogger behind McMansion Hell

via The Conservative Brief

[rtirman-blog]

34   Sophomore  Completed

A student’s life, as is true for life in general, is mostly filled with unmemorable moments. As mentioned previously, there is a relationship between the importance and vividness of experience and the recalling of experience. I suppose there is much more to tell which might evoke a different

 Right after I moved into St. Ed’s, my brother Al visited me. He was interested in what and how I was doing. Other than me getting into trouble, I actually was moving along pretty well.  I could even see the light of day regarding my physics grade.  So, as long as I worked hard in Physics, I was on my way to a very uncomplicated and successful semester.  Al lit up when I told him about my class, “Music of the Twentieth Century” with Father Hager.  That made me happy.  Al’s opinion meant a lot to me.  

Prior to my class with Father Hager, one type of music I of which I had never heard was a tone poem. When Father Hager carefully lowered the needle onto the record grooves of Richard Strauss’s “The Merry Pranks of Til Eulenspiegel”, I was enthralled!  What an expressive piece of music!  Did my father, or brother, know about Strauss? If so, why had I not heard it until that day.  

 Perhaps I have said this before, but when I was a kid, I favored Pepsi Cola over Coca Cola, Duz over Rinso, Swan over Life Boy, the Red Sox over the Yankees, etc., etc., etc., and finally, Beethoven over any composer living, dead, or yet to be born. Yes, I was biased by my father- and by my brother, Al.  Since Daddy liked Beethoven, I liked Beethoven because I loved my father, and because Al liked Beethoven, I liked Beethoven to avoid being labeled a horse’s ass. As you can see, those are two distinctly different, yet effective, ways to influence my preferences. Whereas Al, with all good intentions, would employ demeaning or brutal tactics to help me see the truth, Daddy would always revel in my own truths.  Actually. I seldom disagreed with Al. I looked up to him, and I recognized how smart he was and how much he cared about me.  But I had never heard of Richard Strauss.  This is a very telling point concerning me. My exploration of music, the arts in general, was quite passive. If Daddy or Al liked something, so did I.   It took me a long time before I felt confident enough to recommend to either of these mentors a good book or a piece of music. Daddy died in his mid-fifties.  I have questioned many times since then whether I could meet him on his intellectual plane.

 It was much later in my life that Al gave me a gift of confidence not many big brothers offer their siblings.  After a week-long visit, Al drove me to the airport for my flight home.  While driving, we got into a discussion about different kinds of jobs and whether jobs were sex-typed or whatever.  Al then told me that some jobs, such as airline stewardesses and secretaries are jobs that are for females.  He added, tjhat females are made genetically to do those things better than men.

 I thought to myself that was the dumbest thing I had ever heard coming out of his mouth. I said to him, “I don’t know how you can say that because our society socializes people to do work like that.

 I must have touched a hot button!  Al, in his Brooklynese, went to his go-to, and effective, I’ll-shut- you-down retort. He belted out, “You’re a goddamn horse’s ass!”

 For the next few minutes it got very quiet in the car.  I then said, “Hey, Al.”

“What?”, he said.

“You know, you may be right and I may be wrong, or you may be wrong and I may be right.  But there is one thing I know for sure.”

 What’s that? He asked.

 I waited a second, and then I said, “I ain’t no goddamn horse’s ass!

 He started to laugh. We laughed together. Then out of his mouth came this: “you know, you’re going to get on that plane, and I’m going to go back to my office. At work, I’ll be in a discussion with some of the other professors, secretaries, and staff and that topic will come up.  The next thing I know is that I’ll be giving your opinion as my own…I know I will.”

You do that?, I asked.

“I do that all the time. Every time you are here, I learn something else that I use as mine.”

 Up to that moment, taking ideas from my brother was a one-way street.  Up to that time, I lived my life thinking I didn’t have an original thought or opinion.  I loved Ted Williams, the Red Sox, the Celtics, Beethoven, Freud, and even, Elbows Anderson because my big brother was a fan to all.  The Marx Brothers, Army football, Humphrey Bogart, and a host of others could be added to the list.  

I tell you those things to provide the background to the choices I made in “Music of the Twentieth Century.  Father Hager required each student to write either one long critique on a piece of music in the Twentieth Century or two shorter papers. Since hearing Strauss’s tone poems, I was considering doing two short papers on Strauss’s works.  One paper on “Don Jaun”, and the other on “Der Rosenkavalier”, “Til Eulenspiegel”, or “Romeo and Juliet”.  Before I made a definite choice, my brother, Al came to visit me. He was really enthusiastic about what I was learning in Music of the Twentieth Century. It didn’t take him very long before he talked me into doing my first short paper on Sergei Prokofiev”s  “Alexander Nevsky”.  I would then be able to do my second paper on a Strauss work.  The most important part of this is I was to experience my brother’s method for writing a paper, and it was the first  time we wrote one together.

 One of Al’s most useful tools for writing is Roget’s Thesaurus- a dictionary of synonyms and antonyms. I learned to not be repetitive with a word, rather, use a synonym. This was a helpful thing to learn. Not only did I employ such an effective technique in my critique of “Alexander Nevsky”, but I continued to apply this approach in future manuscripts.  However, in Al’s enthusiasm, he injected throughout this paper his strong opinions and attitudes, which I did not have the background education to really understand. For example, in the midst of the paper, he abased Tchaikovsky in his comparison to Prokofiev.  If Father Hager would have questioned me on that, my dishonesty would have been exposed. Today, Al has a much different opinion of Tchaikovsky.  Anyway, I ended up getting an A on that paper. Although I do like Prokofiev’s music, I can’t remember anything about “Alexander Nevsky”.  

 Next, I had the bright idea to do a long paper, rather than a second short one.  I decided to write on Debussy’s opera “Pelieas et Melisande”. This time I did not have my brother’s assistance, so I looked to my father for help.  Daddy was the supreme authority on classical music.  As I listened to the opera, I wrote down every melody and sound I heard, what instruments were making those melodies and sounds, and finally, my notions of what things meant.  I sent everything I wrote to Daddy, and asked him to help me organize my paper.  A couple of weeks later, I received a completed, 3000 word, essay on Prokofiev’s “Palieas et Melisande”  Along with the paper, Daddy wrote me a short letter- “Richie, Don’t ever do this to me, again! “

 Before turning the paper in, I went through it, changing several expensive words to nickel and dime words.  I also made sure I understood everything that was in that paper.   Some of the writing seemed familiar, but ironically, I didn’t recognize my many contributions to its final form.

 Spring Break showed up between those two papers.  I was looking forward to going home and being with Sally.  She was to turn 16 sometime in early April, and I was to take her to Madison Square Garden to see the circus.  Two foreboding moments on that trip back home.   The seats I could afford at the Garden were insufficient to please Sally.  We were so high up that we were at that same height as the trapeze artists.  This was an unforgettable mistake, which lingered throughout our relationship.  The seats that would have made her happy probably would have cost 15 to 20 dollars more per seat, and I didn’t have the money.  She never said a word about it that night. I discovered later, my gift was considered “not good enough”.

The second foreboding moment was clearer in its message.  I simply remember her at a party flirting with a few guys I didn’t really know well.  They all were enjoying themselves while I watched in fear.  Nothing happened, except I discovered how jealous I could be. I was totally relieved when we left…I didn’t say a word to her.

Our time together was somewhat limited because her school was not on their Easter break.  So, we saw each other just about every school night for a few hours.  When I left for school, she did not travel to the city with us.    

 Back at school I went to work on “Pelieas et Melisande,” and to ask my father to help me. The most difficult moment “Music of the Twentieth Century” was at the end of the course I would have to take a final which required me to write without a Thesaurus, without a The-Al, and without The Daddy.  My writing would ex[pose me!   I was required to write several short answer questions identifying composers and their  music. Then came the essay on Jacques Ibert’s ”Divertissement”.  I wrote about what I saw in my head while listening…two New York City bums with bolo hats, hankies sticking out of their left shoulder pockets, tulips in their hands, and doing the minuet.  I got an A on the exam, and an A in the course.  

[themusicenthusiast]

Wednesday, November 30th, 2016 – Beach Weather Gets the Crowd Going by Delivering an Ideal Concert Experience in Dallas

The Cambridge Room at Dallas’ House of Blues was hopping early on this night. A good gathering of people were cheering Northern National as I walked in, the local indie/rock outfit having won over some new fans during their set; everyone’s excitement soon turning to anticipation as they awaited Beach Weather. Against the Current may have been the main act of the night, Beach Weather being one of the acts supporting them on their U.S. leg of the In Our Bones World Tour, though each band had their own distinct grouping of fans out this night and that was neat to see. By 7:45 the trio was set to go, making their return to Dallas after about six months; Nick Santino quickly asking, “What’s up, Dallas? How you doing this evening?” before they launched into their 32-minute long set with “Bad Seed”. It was a fairly even spread of old and new songs (the new coming from the nearly month-old Chit Chat EP), their fans thoroughly enjoying hearing something they were quite familiar with right out of the gates; most everyone in attendance feeling the striking groove as they proceeded to dance a bit. That was merely the warm-up, the segue into “Chit Chat” being fluid and near seamless as they kicked things up several notches. The track’s often intense vibe oozed a chipper quality, which in turn cultivated a carefree atmosphere as everyone rocked out with the catchy love song; Austin Scates being all smiles as he hammered out the robust beats.

“It’s good to be back,” Santino remarked after they had finished that one, the singer and guitarist bringing up their last show here, in the downstairs room when they were supporting PVRIS back in May. Coincidentally, CRUISR was also on that bill and were next up on this night, the guys of Beach Weather adding how nice it was to be spending some more time with them. A quick suggestion of buying their new EP (“or you can steal it online, that's cool too,” Santino joked) set up the airy indie rock piece that is “Home Movies”. The music bed is reflective of its sweet nature in regards to the story; Reeve Powers swaying to and fro as he gracefully picked the strings of his bass. “This kid talks all day long, then he gets up here and doesn't know what to say,” Santino commented, joking with the bass player who had been tight-lipped thus far. But with that, he did break his silence, regaling everyone with a quick joke. “What does a thesaurus have for breakfast?” he asked, most of the few dozen onlookers chiming in with a collective, “What?” “Synonym rolls!” he said grinning, soon stating his grandmother had showed him that joke on Facebook, a joke that earned some hearty laughs. They took it back to last year’s What a Drag EP, “Rebel Sun” being a fiery number that evoked an equally intense reaction from the spectators. Everyone felt invigorated by it, and upon seeing the musicians begin clapping their hands to the beat, most of the audience joined in, the excitement soaring as Beach Weather captured that demeanor that makes concerts so special, a feeling of togetherness flowing throughout the room. Things got somewhat personal when Santino noted their next song was one he had written about “weird anxiety”, taking a moment to dissect the differences between true anxiety and some lesser forms. His example was how so many people are afraid to talk with others and get to know them, essentially stressing the difference between not enjoying the standard protocol because you’re not good at it or don’t feel comfortable doing from being petrified by such behaviors. “Real anxiety sucks,” he finished. The at times soupy sounding “Sex, Drugs, Etc.” was the song he was referring to, though it wasn’t without some vim on this night. In fact, it was one of the best songs of their set. Scates cut loose as he furiously hammered away on the drums, while Santino let loose some screechy notes at times as he sang, only fueling the emotion that went in to it. “Goddess” possessed a certain shimmer, and upon finishing it, it was time to end their performance, Santino quipping that they simply pretended to know how to party and make music. And in between that, like the downtime that separated the songs, they weren’t sure what they should do. I don’t think anyone bought that, especially after the way they had handled themselves this night. They had saved their best for last – “Swoon” -- at least judging by the audiences’ reaction that was how it was. Some cheers erupted once they recognized that number that has trace influences of R&B as well as some electronic elements, with a serious rock flare mixed in. It offered a stellar end to what had been fun and lively set that further got the crowd ready for what was to come. Beach Weather is setting themselves up to potentially be one of the next big things in music sometime down the road, and in the now, they are a band you need to be familiar with. They’ve already made great strides since that last major tour, tightening up their stage show and working to become even more likable. Indeed, they were hard to resist, the way the trio finessed the audience not just with their music but also their banter presenting a certain amount of charm that is a bit of a rarity these days. While they’ve honed their craft by being a touring act that has logged a ton of hours on stage, they still retain that local band charm, genuinely appreciation everyone who came out to see them as well as those who gave them their time and watched and listened. That makes them easy to relate to and further ensures their fanbase is a passionate one seeing as that establishes a pure connection. On top of that, Beach Weather’s music is somewhat unique. It’s an intriguing blend of styles, catchy pop elements woven into tracks that boast a definite rock vibe, a serious swagger and groove frequently mixed in. It may not be new, though the way these guys present it, it does sound fresh, and that’s an ability that shouldn’t go unappreciated. They surely still have some more work to put in in regards to proving their mettle, though these guys seem to have what it takes to survive and continue to build upon this thing they’ve created, already being off to a solid start. For a list of all of their upcoming tour dates, go HERE; and be sure to check out their albums in iTUNES or GOOGLE PLAY.