#if its not real i'll add it to my pile of fic ideas

[ukrainian-groove-metal]

surely there's a fic out there a la Salvage or The Art of Burning but about Azula, right? Like, Azula is forcibly adopted and redeemed?

[hide-in-imagination]

Hey baee! I wanted to ask what your writing process is like, when writing Roads to cross. And also any updates? (Btw this is is by no means me trying to rush you!! I’m just curious lol)

W-writing "pro-cess"...?

Hahaha, hello, love! 🥰💕 Alright, I'll try to break down the process. This might get long. Spoiler alert: don't expect a lot of method here. I'm a panster writer, flying by the seat of my pants 😂

Okay, so, it all starts with daydreaming tbh. Or nightdreaming; usually when I'm falling asleep at 3am my brain gets especially creative for some reason 😂 I have a lot of dialogues written down in my phone's notes app that confirm that.

Usually, the first things that come to me are dialogues. I'll be daydreaming and a line of dialogue comes along and I go "Oh, that's good, I gotta write that down."

In the case of Roads, a lot of these loose dialogues/scenes piled up until I went "Okay, I gotta organize this sdkjfn". Which meant, okay, I have all these things I want to happen-- In which order should they happen? And since Roads it's a Canon Divergence fic, that meant I had to make these scenes fit between canonical plot points of season 3. To help myself with this (because I don't have a superbrain and my memory sucks) about 2 or 3 years ago, I don't remember, I rewatched some episodes of season 3 and wrote down in a Word document called "Timeline" everything that happened in each episode so I could remember later, separating them by day. So, if, for example, episode 35 started during the day, went through the night and ended in another morning, that would be Day 1 and the start of Day 2. I did this from episode 41 to episode 50. That document is 28 pages long😂

So, having all the pieces down, I had to organize them. It was kind of a game of Tetris hahah. Or probably more like this:

This should happen before this and this should happen after this, and some days should pass before this happens, BUT WAIT, THIS CAN'T HAPPEN BEFORE THIS HAPPENS BECAUSE IT WOULDN'T MAKE SENSE, AAAAAAAAAAH

It was at that moment that I decided to use my bedroom wall and post-its to organize my shit and make a somewhat functional timeline for the story😂 This is a step I like to call Decisions. You gotta make decisions about the story, when this scene you thought up will happen, in which chapter and in which moment it'll happen, or even if it'll happen at all! Like, what if it doesn't fit in any chapter? Should I force it? It is really necessary?

You gotta make decisions and you gotta commit. I hate this step. It takes so much time because I overthink everything.

But then, THEN, by some happenstance or meteor strike as Taylor my beloved would say, I manage to get the skeleton of a chapter. Which means, I've got about 5-7 loose dialogues or bits of scenes, in a specific order, and now I just gotta fill in the blanks... which usually means going from a 1k draft to a 7k finished chapter😂

For example, this is what "It is said that there's no such thing as coincidence" looked like before I actually started working on it.

If you compare it to the finished version, you can see what actually working on the chapter means: adding the narration, the dialogue tags, etc etc. And oftentimes, new ideas pop up in my brain while I'm writing it, so I add that too.

Since Roads it's a bunch of loose scenes that came to me randomly and in disorder, when I actually write the story down one event after another, this curious thing happens called natural progression of things ✨✨✨ Or, Event->Logical reaction to said event. Like, "Hey, this character broke his arm in the previous chapter, the others should... probably.. talk about that???"😂

So that's how new things get added to the chapter that I hadn't planned but just make sense, u know?

Now, this step of actually working on the chapter is... pretty slow skdnf. I especially HATE dialogue tags, I hate that I gotta add actions and thoughts and smells and sounds between what the characters say; sometimes I really don't know what to put there kjsd.

Oftentimes, ideas of what to write in a certain scene come to me while reading something else, like a fic or a book. Which doesn't mean I steal their narrations sdkjfn, it's just- the book will mention a certain word or feeling and I go "Oh, this is like in my fic! This is what X character is going through!" and I start daydreaming about it and the right words come and I run to my Word documents to write the magic down before it leaves me 😂💖

This doesn't only happen for the current chapter I'm working on, btw. Nonono, that would be too organized for my brain. Too normal. Too easy.

When I say my brain gets loose, random, disorganized ideas, I mean it. I'm currently working on chapter 27, and yet, I've written some bits for chapters 30, 31, or even 40. If I get an idea, I gotta write it down or I'll forget. Sometimes, I have a clearer view of what a future chapter will look like than what this current chapter is, but hey, that's life 😂

Now you get why I had to use my bedroom wall, right? I mean, when you have a timeline of about 20 future chapters and a hundred loose scenes to fit into those 20 chapters, things get overwhelming. I needed a visual way to fit the pieces into place or my brain was going to collapse.

Or I was going to cry.

Anyway, in summary.

Step 1: Daydreaming. This happens naturally; can be out of nowhere or from reading something else.

Step 2: Write the daydreaming.

Step 3: Decisions. Try to organize the loose ideas I've got in my phone or Word into a chapter structure that makes sense.

Step 4: Fill in the blanks. Once the chapter structure/skeleton is there, I gotta actually work on it.

Step 5: Proofreading. Once the chapter is done, I read it again to look for typos or just to overthink the whole thing again until I'm truly happy with how I narrated every single thing. I also use Grammarly to help me out caught errors.

And that's it! Another Roads chapter is done!

...I gotta translate it to Spanish to post on Wattpad though. (Kill me, I hate this, this is cringe, I'm such a terrible writer, English makes everything sound better, why did I think this was a good idea? Why do I always repeat this same word/sentence structure? Okay, whatever, I don't care anymore. No, wait, I do, this has to be good. Why though? Only 12-year-olds read me here. Okay, it's done, IT'S DONE, BYE, I DON'T WANNA WRITE THIS SHIT FOR ANOTHER MONTH, I HATE IT)

Rinse and repeat 😇

...Sorry for writing so much.

Now, updates! I have this page in my blog called "Progress status" in which I usually update how the chapters are going along: https://hide-in-imagination.tumblr.com/Progress-Status How I see it is: if a scene needs to be finished/ it's half-done-> That's 5% If there's a scene I need to write from zero-> That's 10% So, for chapter 27, I have 5 scenes half-done and one I gotta write from scratch, so that's 25% + 10%, 35% left to do. Meaning, chapter 27 it's currently 65% done.

This page can be found in my sidebar, btw. But if you use mobile I guess you can't see it.

Aaand, that's it! That was all your questions. I'm guessing I sated your curiosity with... way more information than you ever wanted to know🤣

Thank you for caring about my story❤️ See ya!

[izukillme-moved]

*cracks knuckles before typing* Here we go: Fic/Drabble anything that you are comfortable with. 1. First of all, Jelray (because Jelray): “It doesn't matter if we can't describe it–we both feel this way.” (taken from a Tumblr prompt) 2. Gratsu: “And that is why I come to you over everyone else. That is why you are my boyfriend.” I can and WILL give more since I am bubbling up with ideas and at the same time can't save myself by writing them since I'll probably ruin it.

Okay, so here it is! I’ll edit and post the Gratsu later because I really wanna post this aah!!

The first time Gray sees Jellal Fernandes, he knows he isdone for.

He meets Jellal through Lyon. Jellal works at the library Lyonfrequents every so often when he feels he’s thumbed through his book collectiontoo many to pick up one from it. When Gray’s local library closes down, as atired college student (read tired corpse), he is obligated to go to this‘amazing library’ that Lyon describes as having a really good selection ofnovels, research books, magazines and whatnot.

The instant Gray lays eyes upon Jellal, he knows exactlywhat that evil glint in Lyon’s eyes was.

Damn it all! hecurses the silver-haired devil that is his older sibling.

For once, for once,he thought his brother would be nice and kind and show him to a library wherethere are no stunningly hot boys to distract Gray, he thought he could ignorethe look on Lyon’s face, passing it off as his usual smug smirk, but no. Lyon’s not that nice, and Grayshould know that by now.

Jellal is tall, half an inch taller than even Gray himself. He’sgot natural blue hair – now Gray wouldbe sceptical, but one of his ex-boyfriends and current best friend has naturalbright pink hair, so yeah - and a strange red tattoo working its way down theright side of his face. Oh, and did Gray mention that Jellal has the mostbeautiful, kindest brown eyes that seem to hold the entire universe in them,constellations, asteroids and all? His smile is like the sun, and it lights up Gray’sworld every time Jellal so much as looks at him.

In short, this boy is perfect, and Gray does not knowwhether to kill or thank Lyon for this gift from the heavens.

He decides to hold off on both, preferring to maintain thathe is in no way interested in how pretty Jellal is, or how his brown eyessparkle just so when the light hits them.

–

“Ugh!” Gray grunts as he searches through the racks for a book;he knows he saw it here yesterday. itcan’t have gone, there aren’t many people who even know who Stephen Hawking or RichardFeynman or Michael Faraday are, let alone like their –

“Are you looking for TheDreams That Stuff Is Made Of?” a kind voice comes from behind him.

Gray turns around, almost losing his balance, and issurprised to see Jellal, a small blush on his cheeks, holding in his hands the verybook Gray has been wanting for so, so long.

“Yes, oh my god,” he says in surprise, reaching out to takeit. “How did you-”

“Not many people like this book, it’s been checked out exactlythree times,” says Jellal, hand scratching his neck. He gives a small chuckle,and Gray knows that he would pay good money to just listen to that one sound forthe rest of his life. “I love physics, and I thought I would try it,”

Gray’s jaw drops. “Me too,” he says. “It’s so interesting!”

“You really think so?” Jellal’s pretty eyes widen, and hesmiles. “That’s awesome. We should talk sometime. I guess you know my namebecause it’s on my card,” here he laughs a little, and it sounds like the pealof bells in heaven, “but I never caught yours,”

“Gray,” Gray says, breathless. “I’m Gray Fullbuster.”

Jellal smiles in amazement. “no way. Ultear’s littlebrother?”

“You know Ul?” Gray questions in surprise.

“Yeah. She’s my best friend’s girlfriend,” grins Jellal.

“Wait, what?!” Gray leaps up. “You’re Erza Scarlet’s best friend? You’re that Jellal? The one she just won’t shut up about, the guy who tookcare of her till her real family located her? I should have known, Jellal isn’ta common name,”

“Yup,” Jellal says with a proud smile. “Erza’s mentioned youa couple of times to me. There was a lot of winking and suggestive smilinginvolved,” he says thoughtfully. “She has a tendency to act really weird attimes.”

Gray blushes to the tips of his ears and looks away. Heknows exactly what Erza means whenshe looks like that.

“Anyway, I should be getting back to work.” Jellal says witha little smile, handing the book out to Gray. “It was nice meeting you, GrayFullbuster!” And he runs off.

Gray stares after Jellal’s retreating back, the spot wherehis fingers brushed against Jellal’s burning oddly.

Damn it all, he curseshimself. Damn you, Jellal Fernandes.

–

It has been exactly three months, sixteen days, ten hoursand forty-five seconds since Gray met Jellal.

Not like he’s counting, of course. Certainly not.

Not like he wheedled out Jellal’s birthday (Jellal did thesame, he might add) and wrote it into his phone calendar – it’s the fourteenthof November – so he can wish the guy a happy birthday.

Not like he likes him.No, not at all.

Jellal now regularly makes it a point to say a hello to Grayand ask him how he’s doing every time he drops by.

(Which is becoming more and more frequent. Of course, Grayrefuses to admit that it’s for Jellal – he stubbornly maintains that it’s becausethe books at his own local library aren’t enough for him anymore, but even he struggles to believe that nowadays.)

Gray makes it a point to blush a little and stammer out, “Thanks.I’m doing okay, how about you?”

And then Jellal will inevitably launch into a story aboutErza’s friend Millianna and her cats – “terrible, nasty creatures,”, Jellal rants– a story Gray would have heard from Erza not an hour before, but he findshimself listening avidly, hanging off of every word that comes out of Jellal’s mouth.

“And then – and then the stupid thing nearly ripped apart asweater I’d been working on for almost a month,”Jellal yells exasperatedly, clutching fistfuls of his pretty blue hair. “I’m makingit for someone really special, see, and I can’t afford any more expensive yarn!”

“I didn’t know you knitted,” says Gray. He really didn’t –but it isn’t that surprising. Jellal is the kind of guy who seems like he likesknitting, and baking cookies, and all that sort of grandmotherly thing.

What is surprising is that Jellal is poor. His polite, cultureddemeanour and excellent grooming wouldn’t tell you that. But, well, it shouldn’tbe so surprising – Gray himself comes from a large business family, and is currentlystudying to be its next head, but you can’t tell by looking at the scruffy messhe is. Gray almost offers to buy Jellal some more yarn just in case, but biteshis tongue. It might come across as very rude.

“Not many people do,” Jellal says with a little smile. “Ifeel like I can tell you anything, though.”

Gray’s breath hitches.

“Y – yeah,” he says nervously. “Yeah, sure.”

–

It’s ten am on the fourteenth of November, and Gray standsoutside the library, chewing his lip, holding the little wrapped gift in hishand.

Should he be doing this?

Probably not.

Is it a thing that friends do for each other?

Are he and Jellal even friends?

Shut up, me.

Gray takes a breath in and pushes the doors open. It’s toolate now – he can’t turn back, and he won’t.

I’m going to do this.

He walks in and sees none other than Jellal, lifting a cupcaketo his mouth to take a bite. Gray can tell it’s strawberry on instinct, knowingwhat kind of cake Erza likes to give her friends on their birthdays. It has alittle number twenty on it, and Gray smiles a bit – that’s cute of her. He knowsshe baked it herself.

“Hey,” Gray greets.

“Gray?” Jellal sets his cake down. “Hi! How are you doingtoday?”

Gray shoves the gift at him and attempts to smile. “Happybirthday.”

Jellal gasps. “You remembered?”

Gray shifts in place. “Well, yeah? Is that a question?”

“No, but-” he pulls the wrapper open, long fingers carefulnot to tear it. It’s cute how he is so meticulous about it.

Friends can be thought of as cute. They can, Gray insists to himself.

He is brought out of his thoughts as Jellal gasps, eyes flyingwide open. He stares disbelievingly at the brand-new (second-generation, butGray feared buying the new fourth-generation one would be going overboard) iPodTouch in his palm.

“Gray – I can’t accept this-” he begins, pushing it backtowards him. “It must have cost you a fortune, how even-”

Gray cuts him off with a slight blush. “It’s not a problem. Youmentioned you like Linkin Park. It has all their albums except The Hunting Partybecause you don’t like that one. What are friends for, stupid? Just accept thegift.”

Jellal looks in awe at the iPod. “Thank you, Gray, but-” Heputs it back in Gray’s hands.

“Jellal, take it. It’s really not a problem. Trust me.” Graysays firmly, closing Jellal’s fingers around the touchscreen device. “Theearphones are in the case, too,” he adds, pointing at the neat little pile ofwrapper on the desk. “Try it out – I hear the sound quality is amazing.”

Jellal stares at him unsurely. “Gray-”

Gray grabs the box with a roll of his eyes, pulls out theearphones, plugs them into the iPod and shoves one into Jellal’s ear.

“Pick a song,” he whispers, putting the other one into hisown ear.

Jellal hesitates, but turns the iPod on, shuffling throughthe song list. He stops and smiles at one name, then presses the ‘start’ button.

Gray’s eyes widen as the first bars of his favourite songbegin to play in his ears.

“Castle of Glass,” he realises.

“’Cause I’m only a crackin this castle of glass,” Jellal sings along. He has the voice of an angelas well.

They spend some time listening to all Jellal’s favouritesongs – which happen to be Gray’s as well. Iridescentis a particular hit with the both of them.

“So let it go, let it go,” hums Jellal.

(If he’s being completely honest, Gray is more listening to Jellalsing along in bliss than anything.)

And they stay like that for a long while, until Gray realiseshe has to meet Lucy for their English project. They’re assigned partners, andshe’ll kill him if he’s late.

“Jellal, I have to go. I’m meeting a friend for a project, I’mreally sorry!” he says with a bow of apology.

Jellal’s eyes widen. “Don’t you dare apologise, you’ve givenme the best gift you could,” he says vehemently. “I – I can’t thank you enough.”

Gray smiles a little awkwardly and runs out of the librarywith a “You’re welcome!”.

Jellal Fernandes has himso screwed.

–

Fast forward to the twenty-fifth of December, Christmas.

And also, Gray’s nineteenth birthday.

Gray grins as his cousin Juvia whirls him around one last timebefore going off to dance with her girlfriends, Levy and Mirajane. “See you!”he calls after her, and she turns back to shoot him a smirk.

“Waiting on someone?” Erza asks, sidling up next to him witha suggestive smile. “Someone by the name of Jellal Fernandes?”

“No,” Gray says. “And that wasn’t subtle at all, Erza.”

“Mm, I know.” Erza grins. “But dense idiots like the two ofyou don’t get subtlety, so…”

“I invited him, but he said he might be a bit busy.” Graysays hastily. “Said not to wait on him. So that’s exactly what I’m not doing.”

“Would be a shame,” says a familiar voice from behind him.

Gray turns in shock to see Jellal, holding a lumpy wrappedpresent in his arms. The wrapping has flying reindeer and a little Santa on it –it must be old Christmas paper, but it’s the effort that counts, and Gray can’tstop a small smile from painting itself onto his face. He’s excited, he realises, something he hasn’tbeen all night – happy, yes, for his closest family is here, but not excited.

“You came,” Gray breathes. Erza has slipped off to god knowswhere, but Gray is glad she isn’t here, to be honest.

Jellal laughs. “Took me a while. Nice place you got here. I seenow why the iPod wasn’t a problem.”

And the way he says it, so light-hearted and friendly unlikea lot of others, warms Gray’s heart.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

Jellal looks a little ashamed of himself, handing the giftto Gray. “It’s not cool, like anything you’re probably used to,” he says uncomfortably.“But, well, this is the most I could do. Sorry.”

Gray rolls his eyes and takes the gift. “It’s fine – it’sreally nice of you to even get me a gift, Jellal,” he says.

Gray holds the lumpy package tentatively. It is soft and pillow-like,and he can almost guess what’s inside. He takes his time to unwrap it,unwinding each piece of cheap Sellotape slowly and carefully.

Once he is done, a beautiful cream sweater spills into hisarms. Gray kneels and puts the wrapper on the floor, holding up the lovelyknitted article of clothing. It has an exquisitely detailed snowflake, in varyingshades of blue – is that silk – in thecentre, and two simple bands of the same blue silk near the wrists andneckline. It’s knitted even better than most of the luxury brands you’d see instores, and Gray clutches the fabric to his chest. It must be custom-made – it’s absolutely beautiful, and Gray wants toput it on immediately.

“This must have cost you so much-” he says in shock. “It’sgot to be custom-made, you wouldn’t see anything so amazing in a store-”

Jellal shakes his head with a smile. “I knit, remember?”

Gray’s jaw drops, and he recalls a certain conversationbetween himself and Jellal.

“And then – and then the stupid thing nearly ripped apart asweater I’d been working on for almost a month,”he’d ranted, and then explained why it was so important.

“I’m making it for someone really special, see,”

That special someone…

Was him.

Gray shakes his head.

“You went to all that trouble, spent money on real, actualsilk – for me?!” he says in utterdisbelief.

Jellal rubs his head. “It wasn’t that much trouble,” he answers.“Really, Gray, it’s not much at all,”

“Shut up,” Graysays, staring at the masterpiece in his hands. “I’m wearing this right now.”

And to prove his point, he shucks off the suit jacket he’sbeen wearing all night and slips into the cosy comfort of the sweater instead. Itfeels even more amazing than it looks, and Gray lets out a sigh of pleasure.

Jellal stares at him, and Gray cannot fathom why until –

“God, I can’t take this anymore,” he breathes, and suddenlyhis hands are on Gray’s hips, pulling him closer, and then he smashes his mouthinto Gray’s.

Gray makes an ‘Mmph!’noise at first, startled by the sudden kiss, but soon melts into it, kissingback with equal vigour. Jellal’s hands trace Gray’s hips, coming up to rest inhis hair, and Gray’s hands draw patterns on his back, pulling him closer,closer, closer till there is no room between them anymore.

The kiss is soft and sweet and loving and fiery andpassionate all at the same time. Gray’s insides are on fire, and his heart isburning with something he cannot place.Sure, he’s been kissed, has kissed others before, but not like this. Never likethis.

“Shit,” he gasps when they finally break apart for air.

Jellal’s cheeks are red. His eyes are wide. His tattoo isalmost invisible with how much he’s blushing.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have done that. I crossed a line. Ihave to go. I better go.” he gabbles and runs off.

“Jellal – wait!” Gray shouts, trying to chase after him,hand outstretched. But Jellal has melted into the huge crowds, and Gray cannot spothim anymore.

He sinks onto the floor, clutching fistfuls of his newsweater.

–

The next day, Gray marches into the library to see Jellal lookingsadly into a book – the same physics book, TheDreams That Stuff Is Made Of.

He walks straight up to the older boy and grabs his collar.

Jellal looks up in surprise. “Gray-” he begins.

“No,” Gray half-shouts. “I’m not letting you run away. It doesn’tmatter if you can’t describe it – we both feel this way. I’ve liked you fromthe minute I saw you. Your cuteness and your personality didn’t help matters.”

“I – what?” Jellal looks absolutely furious. “There is noway someone like you deserves someone like me. I’m not good enough. I bet youhated that kiss.”

“I don’t know how it felt – it was too short for me to tell.”Gray says. “Kiss me again and I’ll tell you exactly what I think.”

And he doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling Jellal’s body towardshis. Melding their lips.

The kiss is eternity itself to Gray, and when they finally resurfaceto breathe, he says in a daze, “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

“What-”

“Go out with me, Jellal.” Gray’s daze is gone now. He leanshis elbows on the desk and stares into Jellal’s eyes. “Go out with me.”

“Okay.” Jellal mutters.

–

“And that is the story of how Gray and Jellal ended up gettingmarried like the idiots they are,” Erza announces proudly, lifting her glass. “Tothe grooms!”

They all drink, and the newlyweds share a shy glance.

Jellal places his palm over Gray’s.

He smiles, and Gray smiles back.

Meeting you was thebest thing that ever happened to me.

--

Hope you liked it!! I will be editing and adding the Gratsu soon enough, hopefully that doesn’t turn into a 3k thing like this did xD@tardisthroughthefandoms, you’d asked me to @you, so I did haha