#need to outline the fic and just bare bones write it!

[gothsuguru]

will be starting on the professor!geto request soon! :3

[20-th-centurygirl]

YESSS JUDE FICS PLEASE

mirror

jude bellingham x fem!reader

warnings: smut

summary: jude has a new mirror in his bedroom and he's determined to make the most of it

a/n: first jude fic 🤭 can ofc write more for him if u want me to so send in some ideas <3

masterlist

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

"mph, missed you." You whispered against judes mouth, your fingers running up and down his bare chest. He'd come back from a few days away and you were both almost immediately trying to jump eachothers bones. He'd practically dragged you upstairs, an idea that he'd had for a few weeks swirling around his head. "Missed you too baby, so much" his hands went to your jeans, unzipping them and pulling them off in one swift motion. He'd already practically ripped your shirt off downstairs with you doing the same to you. You were lay on your shared bed clad in only your underwear, jude just in boxers now as he tugged down his own joggers.

He caught your mouth in another kiss, you lifting your back up slightly so he could unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders. His mouth moved down your neck, biting lightly before soothing the spot with a featherlight kiss. His fingers toyed with the band of your underwear, dipping them in to gather up some of your wetness. "Always so wet for me aren't you baby?" He hummed, kissing your collarbone. You nodded in response, the desperate need for him clouding your senses. His fingers grazed your clit, circling it lightly before sliding in one of his fingers as your hand rubbed over his growing bulge, elicting a loud groan from jude. "Jude please. Need you." You whined as he slipped another finger inside you, lifting your hips up to meet his hand as your own began to rub the outline of his cock through his boxers. "I know darling, relax for me" he curled his fingers expertly inside you. Truthfully he was struggling himself, the way your hand seemed so small compared to every part of his body made him want to scream. He pulled off your underwear, carelessly throwing them across the room before he pulled down his own. A cocky grin took over his face, something which confused you. "Get on all fours and face the mirror baby". The blush that coated your cheeks was intense and you suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment. Jude picked up on your hesitance and his gaze softened "If you don't want to we can do something else." He sent you a reassuring smile that melted your heart "no it's okay, just new s'all". He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before you moved, Jude positioning himself on his knees behind you. He made eye contact with you in the mirror, a cocky grin plastered onto his lips. His teasing continued, tapping at your clit with his cock making you groan in frustration. "Jude stop teasing me." You rolled your eyes, cutting him a look through the mirror. "Aww poor baby" he laughed before lining himself up with your entrance and sliding in, both of you moaning out in unison.

You instinctively shut your eyes "keep them open babe" He pinched your side lightly before resting both his hands on your waist. Your mouth fell open, trying desperately to maintain eye contact with Jude through the mirror. "Fuck jude you feel so good" you moaned out loudly, nearly screaming when he brought a hand round to circle your clit. "I love you so much. Always feel so good around me. So. Fucking. Tight" Jude accentuated his words with hard thrusts, rubbing your clit faster as he felt himself get close. Your head fell forward, panting "jude I'm close. Don't stop" . He stopped rubbing, gripping your chin to look at him "look at me baby, I need you to look at me when you cum, need to see how good I’m making you feel". The sounds of skin slapping and his words sent you into overdrive. "Jude I can't." Sweat beaded at your forehead as you gripped onto the sheets, judes eyes staring into yours. "Come on baby, let go for me". Your eyes rolled back before squeezing shut, loud moans and judes name tumbling from your slips like a prayer. Your clenching around him triggered judes release, his grip on your hips tightening as his hips snapped towards you, moaning loudly.

He pulled out slowly as to not overstimulate you, lying on his back as you moved to rest your head on his chest. You both lay in a peaceful silence, jude stroking your back as he occasionally kissed his forehead. "You okay? Was that a bit much?" You shook your head "I'm fine, it was good" you said as you moved to lie on him fully. "Oh yeah?" He raised his eyebrow, smirking at you. "Yeah" "knew buying a bigger mirror was a good idea" "is that the only reason you bought it?" Jude laughed "no but its a bonus, think we should get one of them ones on a ceiling. And, good thing is the mirrors close enough for us to be on the top of the bed and still look in it." It was your turn to raise your eyebrows "you wanna test that?" You whispered whilst kissing Judes neck, smirking as you felt him grow hard underneath you. "Course I do baby" He smiled, sitting up and you knew exactly what he wanted.

[maxbruiser]

I love your work so much!! I was wondering if you had any tips and tricks to writing chapters? I'm trying to re-write a fic but I'm very new to writing fanfic (so many people reading, the pressure is really on!)

I’m not very good at giving tips, but I’ll give it a shot. Sorry if these are kind of simple, but these are just what I use.😅

1.)Make an outline of what all you want to accomplish in the chapter. Doesn’t need to be detailed or eloquent, the bare bones will do just fine.

Ex; character has birthday party, fiancé annuls wedding in front of guests, proposes to character’s sister, character goes home, character destroy’s sister’s things in fury.

Then go and write it!

2.)If you get stuck writing a certain scene, you can skip it for the time being. There’s nothing stopping you from coming back to it later. Keysmash your place and Keep on writing!

3.)Show don’t tell! allow the reader to experience the story through actions, words, subtext, thoughts, senses, and feelings of the characters. In other words, don’t state what happens, describe it!

Example sentence: She broke her mother’s vase.

Now, let’s use the same example, but using descriptive language:

The girl gasped, spinning around to see whatever fragile thing she had bumped off the desk, now scattered in smashed pieces all across the expanse of the living room floor. Her eyes widened in horror when she realized what the rubble was. Her late great grandmother’s heirloom reduced to nothing more than a dangerous mess of shattered glass and soggy flowers. Her mom was going to kill her when she found out!

4.)Raise questions(not plot holes). Make your readers want to know more about your characters. Ex: why is this character distrustful of this other character? Why does this character react strongly to this seemingly mundane subject? Why is this place/setting avoided like the plague?

5.)Keep these questions in mind: What’s going on? Where are the characters? What position are they in? What is the atmosphere of the setting? What do the characters think/feel?

6.) pacing. how fast the events in your story progress. Time can drag on, fly by, or simply stay with the protagonist in their day by day. And please don’t just write timeskip when you need to skip time.

7.) try not to infodump! Sprinkle facts and important information where it’s brought up naturally throughout the fic.

[solisaureus]

how do you write a fic and make it like

long?

ok actually i did give a brief workshop in a fandom server on this once. Here’s the sparknotes:

Stage 1: brainstorming

- decide the topic of your story. write down the idea that sparked your inspiration and start there. this is your core concept from which everything else arises. write down everything that you come up with when thinking about your story, even if you don’t end up incorporating it.

- if you don’t have ideas, most of my fic ideas arise when talking about my fav characters with friends who also love them.

- pin down a few essential aspects of your core concept. is it an AU or canon compliant? ship vs gen? is it going to focus on an overarching plot or a particular character’s personal journey? what ao3 rating do you expect it to be? what trope tags do you think you’ll add?

- make a pinterest board and a playlist for your fic concept. i’m serious this helps you solidify the tone, setting, and mood of your story and can provide more inspiration

Stage 2: outlining

- now that you know what your fic is gonna be about, it’s time to break down the story and make it a complete narrative. Your outline can be as detailed or as bare bones as you want. some writers don’t make an outline at all, but i cannot even begin to comprehend their power, and if you’ve never written a long work before i highly recommend starting with an outline.

- the two most important things to keep in mind during this stage are PACING and STRUCTURE. Characterization is secondary in this stage but still important. Now is the time to establish the setting and the major plot beats.

- decide the narrator, point of view, and tense during this stage

- if you’re stuck for ideas, here’s a cheat for pacing — come up with just 3 things: a goal, a time limit, and stakes. What does your protagonist want to accomplish, how long do they have to do it, and what are the consequences if they don’t achieve it in the time limit? Character A is in love with Character B and wants to be with them (goal), but Character B is moving away at the end of the summer (time limit). Character B risks rejection, and losing their friendship with Character A (stakes). Boom, you already have the skeleton of a story. Try to identify these elements in your favorite stories, it helps you practice this and can give you ideas for your own story. Frodo has to deliver the Ring to Mt. Doom (goal) before Sauron’s armies overwhelm Gondor (time limit) or else the world will fall into shadow (stakes). Obviously, this is just one plot formula among a wide variety and there’s no one right way to write a story, but it can get you started.

- Another way you can start is by detailing some exposition events, some rising actions, a climax, and resolution. If you already have a climactic scene in mind, you just need to figure out how your characters get there and what they do afterwards.

- once your outline is done, you should have a general feel for how long the project will be

Stage 3: drafting

- now it’s time to write the damn thing. sounds simple but it’s not

- practice getting into Da Writing Zone. when it’s time for me to get serious, I have a few video game soundtracks i’ll put on through my noise cancelling headphones, i’ll make myself some tea, and i’ll light a candle. i have basically conditioned myself to write when i hear the journey soundtrack or when i smell my pomegranate candle.

- Each scene that you write should serve a purpose in the overall narrative. I personally determine whether each scene contributes to at least one of the following: worldbuilding, progressing the plot, or characterization. a good scene will accomplish two or even all three.

- consider the voice, whether you’re writing from first or third person. are you telling the story with stern reverence, poetic wonder, snarky indifference? consistency in voice strengthens the story.

- keep suspense in mind, too. you dont want the protagonist to know everything right away — be intentional about what information they learn and when. what the protagonist knows and what the reader knows can differ, too — this is the source of dramatic irony. or you can keep the reader ignorant and have them discover plot elements at the same time as your protag. the intrigue!

- take your time. pace yourself. writing is hard and you don’t have a deadline when it comes to fanfiction. if you’re in a rut, something that i do is that i force myself to write 200 words — if i do that and i’m still not feeling it, i stop there and try again in a few days, but a lot of the time i just keep writing once i get past that hurdle of just starting.

- beginnings are always hard. keep in mind that this is just your draft — whatever you write doesn’t have to be the final version. just start at a point that seems interesting to you.

- as a general rule of thumb, if you’re bored writing something, it’ll be boring to read, too. you may tell yourself that you HAVE to write this dry section about worldbuilding or write how the characters get from one place to another, but do you really? how much would it affect the story if you skipped that? can you approach it another way, or work it in in another scene?

stage 4: editing

- kill your darlings. if something you wrote is out of place or unnecessary for the story, but you like it anyway, get rid of it. save it in another document for outtakes, but don’t give into the idea that a section is valuable just because you spent time on it.

- having a second set of eyes on your draft is a game changer. if you can get a friend (ideally another writer) to beta read your draft and make comments, it can make a huge difference. i always like to thank my beta readers when i post a fic because i appreciate their input so much!

- now is a good time to decide whether you want to post chapters as you write them or write everything first and post it all at once (or on a posting schedule). there are benefits and drawbacks to both but you know yourself best!

- once you are happy with your draft, post it! :)

stage 5: stamina

- writing is hard, and writing a long fic is really hard. even if you’re super passionate about a project when you start it, you will probably lose steam at some point depending on how long it is. at times you will be discouraged and unmotivated. it helps to have a friend who has volunteered to be your designated hype man for this fic. i like to have at least one person who i KNOW is awaiting my next chapter.

- the fact that you don’t get paid for writing fic means you have to balance your writing time with your life and responsibilities. you might have to take a hiatus. coming back to the project after a while can be hard — this is where those pinterest boards and playlists you made back in stage 1 come in. they help get you back into the groove of the story when you’ve lost inspiration!

- when all else fails, try reading books or fanfiction. it counts as writing. words in > words out. bonus points if you journal/leave ao3 comments about things you noticed and enjoyed about it (or, if you didn’t like something, what about it left you dissatisfied. don’t write this in an ao3 comment though keep it to yourself), it genuinely helps you get better at writing. like it makes writing easier

- believe in yourself!!! believe in me who believes in you!!!!

[i-sveikata]

you write soooo much, i'm v curious as to what your process is to be so productive - do you write at a certain time, a certain amount of words per day, etc, etc?

omg lol yeah this bad boy is longgggg but funnily enough it wasnt actually intended to be when i started writing it- i had no idea id be looking at a word doc that 1496 pages and counting thats for sure lmao.

tbh its wayyyy less disciplined than that i just happened to have unlocked a particular dynamic thats creating a lot of brain worms for me so what is looking like insane productivity is just really hyperfixation on a dynamic that im very interested in exploring haha.

during the work week im normally cracking open the doc late at night for a couple hours before i go to bed. and then im writing on the weekends really whenever i have time.

i was previously doing writing days where i wrote kind of from dawn to dusk but i was getting so in the zone that i was forgetting to get up and eat and then not taking enough time to recharge for the work week which was wrecking me a bit. so i had to put in a few more boundaries just to avoid burning myself out.

i dont do word counts the same way i dont do deadlines because this is only as good as it remains fun and having homework every day generally isnt fun lmao. but my usual process is i'll write a bunch of bare bones kind of scenes across the bulk of the chapter and then if there are days where i dont have a lot of energy to be writing new scenes ill instead be editing those prewritten scenes and/or fleshing them out a little more. so sometimes scenes will be purely dialogue with no emotional or physical moments spaced out between them but ill come back and add those descriptions in later. or even like placeholds for things i'll have to research because i dont know the answer or ive forgotten a detail and need to go back and check it first.

tbh this fic has gotten so long now that its actively working against my memory (which is generally terrible lol) so i'm currently going back and rereading the fic to pick up any loose threads that i havent mentioned again or have left open to be mentioned again and forgot about- and then im making a note of that so i have it in the chap outline and wont miss it.

but yeah honestly the reason this all seems so productive is because the goal actually isnt to be!!!! its to tell a story on the importance of connection, the importance of redemption and growth and the exploration of love and power, violence and lust. im just here to follow both characters, help them fall in love and maybe kill a few imaginary people. as a treat :)

[commander-krios]

I can now reveal my Shenko Summer fic for @dandenbo. <3 I'm so happy you enjoyed it! Special shoutout to my beta, @comeoniwantacoolname for always helping me out!

Title: Reflections and Regrets Rating: Teen Pairing: MShepard/Kaidan Alenko Summary:

Five times Kaidan nearly confessed his feelings to Shepard and the one time he did.

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 5+1, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Major Character Injury

~~~~

-1-

Smoke.

Kaidan could still smell the smoke on his clothing, mixed with salt water and conductive fluid. He'd intended to change after a long hot shower, but the debrief had taken the rest of his energy, and he hadn’t moved since. Sitting in the silent comm room, he hunched over, hands hanging between his knees, eyes staring at nothing in particular. 

The edges of his vision blurred and he closed his eyes, images of the battlefield as clear as the Virmire skies had been barely a few hours ago. The shake in Ashley’s voice as her pleas echoed in his ears: ‘get Alenko, Skipper. That bomb needs to go off.’

Shepard’s insistence that he could get both of them to safety, that it was important that they all survived this, that he wasn’t going to leave a man behind.

Shepard’s turmoil as realization set in, and the impossible choice he made at the very last moment…

Ashley .

She’d paid the ultimate price so the rest of them could escape, so that the bomb could take out the cloning facility. So that Saren’s krogan army was reduced to nothing but ash and bones, a smoking pile of ruins and dust amid the salty seas.

Sure, Kaidan was grateful to be alive, but not like this, not at the expense of someone else. Especially not Ashley Williams.

A sigh escaped, loud in the silent room. Kaidan stretched his legs out in front of him, willing the stiff muscles to relax. The haunted look in Shepard’s eyes before the debrief was burned into his memory. 

Maybe Shepard regretted his decision. Kaidan certainly did.

The smallest groan left his lips as he stood, his calves still protesting the movement. There was too much to do before they docked at the Citadel. He needed to clean his armor, and himself. He had a report to write about the situation on Virmire. He had a marine detachment to talk to, Mako repairs to oversee, and somewhere in there, he should probably eat, but as he turned towards the exit, he paused.

The sight of Shepard standing in the open doorway was unexpected. The lights of the CIC illuminated him from behind, leaving his face in shadow, his body outlined in white. He was a silent spectre, eyes shrouded in darkness, a ghost haunting his own ship.

A chill ran down Kaidan’s spine, his mind once again wondering if this is what other people saw whenever they came across the Butcher of Torfan.

“I was just leaving.” Kaidan managed, running a hand through his curls, wincing when his fingers caught on the strands. 

“I-” Shepard hesitated, stepping into the dim room, eyes downcast. The glow from the overhead lights only put more shadows along his face, creases that weren’t there yesterday now visible along his brow. “No, you’re fine. I- need to check in with the Council. Let them know the mission is done.”

They’d almost failed… Would the Council even care that they’d lost a human to Saren’s madness? Was one life worth the information they’d gained? One life for total destruction of Wrex’s hope for the krogan. One life for an entire squad of STG soldiers. One life that meant nothing to the people who lived in the relative safety of the Citadel.

What was one life to them?

“I’ll give you some privacy.” 

Kaidan tried his best to stamp down the grief in his heart. He knew Shepard had to be feeling it even worse. It was his call in the end. Shepard would be the one to deal with the consequences, good or bad. Kaidan followed the orders he’d been given. 

He knew that the haunted look in Shepard’s blue eyes was reflected in his as well. 

Kaidan found himself standing in front of his Commander a few heartbeats later, his hand on Shepard’s shoulder, squeezing gently in what he hoped translated as comfort, as support. 

The other man glanced at him, eyes wide in uncertainty. 

“Commander-”

His grip tightened slightly, Shepard’s jaw tensing as he tried to pick his words with care.

Kaidan resisted the urge to pull Shepard into an embrace, to comfort away the pain, the fear, the regret that so clearly tortured him. He wanted to smooth the lines in his forehead, to wipe away the tears, to take the weight of a galaxy off of his shoulders. There weren't many things he could do in this situation, except be there to help when he inevitably took the fall. He wanted to catch Shepard when the galaxy tried to break him.

But he couldn’t .

Shepard was his commander, yes, but he was also his friend. And his feelings had nothing to do with the man himself. He wouldn’t further complicate what was between them.

“I know you don’t hear this often, but you did the right thing on Virmire, even if it doesn’t feel like it. That cloning facility needed to be destroyed.” 

Shepard’s strained smile was full of the sadness he’d never put words to. “Do you really believe that? After everything we’ve lost?”

Kaidan did, even if he regretted what happened, because the galaxy was worth preserving. There were people that needed protecting and they at least had a fighting chance to stop Saren now. But none of that mattered when Shepard met his gaze, the pain in his eyes stabbing Kaidan in the gut.

“I’ll be in the mess when you’re done, Shepard. I’m sure there’s something stronger than coffee lying around.” 

Even if no amount of alcohol could fix their problems, they could at least send Ashley off properly.

“You’re a good friend, Alenko. I’m glad you’re here.”

Neither of them said the obvious: Kaidan was there because someone else wasn’t .

Someone who probably deserved it more.

-2-

The hum of the drive core was comforting, the ripples of its mass effect fields washing over him and the blue glow a safety he craved in his most vulnerable moment. With a sigh, Kaidan relaxed against the farthest wall from the core, sliding to the floor, settling comfortably in the corner so anyone coming and going wouldn’t trip over him. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he closed his eyes. The dark energy tickled at the edge of his senses and his own biotics responded in kind, an intimate dance between them.

The silence in engineering was welcome, especially after the insanity on the Citadel. The Council had immediately dismissed Shepard’s claims about Reapers, placing the entirety of the blame on Saren and the Geth. Then the Alliance decided the best use of Shepard and his crew was to put them on lockdown. Captain Anderson, of all people, helped them steal the Normandy from the docking bay…

And now, they were on their way to Ilos to face Saren head on before he could get the conduit, whatever that was.

Kaidan wished it was all over with because he felt like he could sleep for the next few years. Or centuries.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when boots scuffed against the floor.

He managed to open his eyes slightly as Shepard sat beside him, their shoulders brushing, a kind smile on his face when he glanced over at Kaidan. “Hiding?”

“Is it that obvious?” He responded, a laugh escaping despite the pounding in his head, and he forced his eyes closed again. The migraines usually gave a little more warning than this so he’d been a bit surprised at the intensity of it. With a pained groan, he leaned his head back against the bulkhead, pressing a finger into his temple. “I’ll be alright in a little bit. The silence down here helps.”

Kaidan didn’t have to see Shepard’s face to feel him tense. “Kaidan-”

Patting Shepard’s hand affectionately, he tried to ignore the way his heart jumped at the sound of his given name on Shepard’s tongue. “I’ll be fine, Shepard. I promise.”

The commander muttered something under his breath, something that probably wasn’t very nice, but he couldn’t make out the words. Silence descended between them: companionable, comforting, and altogether more satisfying than it’d been before.

The humming of the drive core was still a pleasant white noise in the background and the cold metal of the wall behind him soothed his sweaty skin, keeping the nausea at bay. He opened his eyes a crack, unable to stop from staring at the man next to him.

Shepard was bathed in blue-white light, shadows dancing playfully across his face. He appeared strong, severe and yet, Kaidan felt nothing but peace and safety in his presence. His azure eyes nearly glowed in the dark, his skin an ocean of blues and whites, dotted with the tiniest smattering of freckles and scars.

He’d admired Shepard from afar for the last six months: watching him defend those that couldn’t defend themselves, feeling pride at how Shepard attempted diplomacy and understanding before resorting to violence, being witness to how every loss etched itself into his commander’s very soul.

It wasn’t long before Shepard caught him watching. With a quirk of his lips, he leaned his own head back to meet Kaidan’s eyes. “See something you like, LT?”

He was tempted to respond with an affirmative, to admit that he dreamed of Shepard at night alone in his bunk, that he wanted to press kisses along that strong jaw, or to brush his hands down Shepard’s back as he pulled him closer…

Clearing his throat, Kaidan glanced at the room’s light source, closing his eyes as the brightness made his migraine pulse angrily. Moaning, he leaned forward, his head dropping into his hands.

Shepard’s hand gripped him by the shoulder, keeping him from falling forward. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. “ Hey . What can I do?”

Kaidan’s hands shook as he pulled them from his face. He kept his eyes closed, trying to make sense of what was happening around him over the throbbing in his skull. “The lights. Too much.”

“Why aren’t you in the medbay?” 

“Liara. Ilos Prep. Didn’t want to interrupt.”

Shepard grunted before he shifted away, taking his warmth as he stood. Then he leaned down to put Kaidan’s arm around his shoulders, pulling him to his feet. It took a few seconds for Kaidan’s brain to catch up with the movement. He wobbled momentarily until Shepard steadied him… his free arm wrapping around Kaidan’s waist and securing him tightly against his own body.

“What’re you-”

“Shh.” Shepard moved forward, keeping Kaidan’s weight supported with each step. “I’m getting you out of here and somewhere better to sleep this off. I need you on Ilos.”

Kaidan wished Shepard needed him in other ways, and he would probably scold himself for such thoughts later, but it didn’t make the desire any less real.

“Where-” The question wouldn’t come out so he stopped speaking, his brain feeling like it was going to melt out of his ears.

“My cabin. It’s cold, dark, and far away from everyone.” Shepard lifted a finger when Kaidan made to argue as best as he could. “Do this as a favor to me.”

If Kaidan was feeling like himself at all, he would’ve protested, telling Shepard that he knew better than to believe that taking the Captain’s quarters wasn’t a breach of whatever fragile friendship they had left, and he wasn’t ready for what that meant. Not when the galaxy was falling down around them.

But his brain wouldn’t respond, no amount of prodding did anything except make his migraine worse, so he allowed Shepard to herd him in silence, ignoring the raised eyebrows and confused looks the crew sent them when they passed.

Shepard’s cabin was cool, the air circulator keeping it at a low yet comfortable temperature. The lights were already dimmed and Kaidan’s eyes (and head) were thankful for the reprieve. He collapsed on the soft blankets, burying his face in the scent of Alliance-issued soap. It wasn’t anything special, but it smelled like Shepard. 

Shepard pulled Kaidan’s boots off and dumped them to the side for later, not bothering to line them up like a good soldier would. Then he helped to get Kaidan in a comfortable position, head on a pillow, blankets piled on top of him in a cocoon. Once he was situated satisfactorily, Shepard sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

“Did you need anything else?”

Kaidan swore that Shepard’s touch brushed against his forehead, twirling a curl around his finger before it disappeared altogether.

“‘M good, thanks.”

Kaidan was nearly asleep when Shepard moved, leaving him on the bed alone. His eyes shut as he spied Shepard in the chair across the room, a sentinel watching over him while he slept.

-3-

Mayday! Mayday, this is the SSV Normandy!

The words echoed in his ears as Kaidan pushed his way through the chaos, dodging terrified crewmen and dangling cables, sparks exploding in dangerous arcs. The ship shuddered beneath his feet, nearly knocking him to the ground. He grabbed on to the closest object, the mess hall table, and thanked his lucky stars that the thing was bolted to the floor. Or what remained of it.

A quick glance confirmed what he already knew: the ship was barely holding together. Fires had broken out across the deck, the emergency fire system soaked the floors, adding even more danger to the crew's haste to escape. Gripping his helmet tightly, Kaidan forced it over his head, coughing against the thick black smoke as he waited for the seals to engage.

A hiss sounded as oxygen filled his helmet and he took a deep breath, attempting to orient himself in the chaos.

Taking a step away from the table, he noted a partially burned body to the right. The familiar buzzcut of Talitha Draven made his heart jump into his throat, grief burning in his chest as he continued on, needing to find Shepard. He tried to convince himself it was to get orders, but he was truly worried. Comms were spotty and he hadn’t heard from Shepard since the attack began.

Another few bodies caught his attention as he made his way to where the distress beacon waited to be launched, each new face making his heart heavier. He knew each and every one of these people and now… now they were gone and for what? Hunting geth that weren’t a threat anymore? Doing the Council’s dirty work while there were other things to prepare for?

Like the Reapers?

And the end of galactic civilization?

The Council was blind and sometimes, as much as he hated himself for it, he wondered if Shepard had made the right choice in saving them. Only time would truly tell if they would help end the Reaper threat or only made everyone else’s choices more difficult.

The familiar sight of John’s N7 armor filled his vision, stopping the dark turn of his thoughts immediately.

“Shepard.”

“Get everyone to the escape pods!” Shepard ordered, hitting the distress beacon with as much force as he could muster. The console sparked briefly but thankfully, didn’t break. 

“Joker won’t leave the cockpit.” He shouted, hoping that Shepard heard over the blaring klaxons. He couldn’t see John’s expression with the helmet on but his blue eyes would haunt him. “I’m not leaving either.”

I’m not leaving you .

Shepard shook his head, almost as if he could hear Kaidan’s thoughts. “Kaidan-”

Gripping Shepard’s helmet, Kaidan pressed the front of his visor against it, an intimate gesture that neither were expecting. Kaidan’s heart pounded hard against his ribs, Shepard’s sudden proximity a desire he’d craved for months, but not like this.

Never like this.

Shepard closed what little distance was between them, hand on Kaidan’s neck, securing him solidly against him. The alarms screamed, fires burned only feet away, but the solid feel of John in his arms almost broke him. He’d wanted this for too long, but now, they didn’t have time. 

“Don’t make me go.”

Shepard sucked in a sharp breath and for a second, Kaidan could’ve sworn he shook. “You have to, Kaidan.” He pushed him away, not roughly but enough to put distance between them. “I’ll get Joker. The others are counting on you. Please .”

Kaidan closed his eyes, filling his lungs slowly with oxygen, trying to force his feet to move, to fulfill his orders. When he finally looked at Shepard once more, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He had a job to do and god dammit he would do it. 

I love you.

It was on his tongue and nearly slipped out, but his feelings were inconsequential as their ship burned around them, the dead staring at them with empty eyes. Talitha couldn’t be saved, but there were others that could.

Swallowing the fear that this would be the last time he saw John Shepard, Kaidan nodded. “Aye aye.”

When he turned his back on the man who had become his world in a few short months, running for the escape pods, there was a dark whisper at the back of his mind that told him it was a mistake. One he would regret for the rest of his life.

-4-

His fingers hovered over the datapad, the words not coming the way he’d intended.

It’d been a shock to see Shepard alive on Horizon, even with Anderson’s warning: There are rumors that Shepard is alive, Commander. Be ready for anything.

But the warnings, the hearsay, the hints about Shepard’s survival over Alchera had prepared him little for what he saw that day: the familiar ocean blue of John’s eyes, the all encompassing relief on the man’s face when Kaidan approached unharmed, the gentle brush of his hand against Kaidan’s shoulder before they embraced. His heart had soared with happiness to see the man he’d followed to hell and back standing in front of him, flesh and blood and very much alive . 

But the moment passed quickly, only to be replaced by more questions than answers.

How was he alive? Was it true that he was with Cerberus now? What had really happened over Alchera? And why was he here now ?

What was Cerberus’ interest in the colony abductions?

Were they involved? Was Shepard involved?

It didn’t matter what the answers were, not when they could be lies. How was he supposed to believe anything a dead man said?

While his head spun with questions, Kaidan’s gaze had taken in the changes in the man he’d once pledged his service to. Shepard’s skin was cracked in places and crimson cybernetics held his flesh together, red lines glowing bright like a beacon over his cheeks and jaw. But there was a darkness in his gaze that Kaidan had seen only a few times before and it scared him.

John Shepard wasn’t the same person who’d died over Alchera.

Now that he could look back on the interaction with fresh eyes, Kaidan admitted he was unnecessarily harsh in his reaction after. There was little he regretted in life, and the things he did regret he could count on one hand. His anger at Shepard on Horizon was one of them. If his former commander really didn’t have a choice from the beginning, then he should apologize. 

The blinking cursor mocked him. Twenty minutes since opening the messaging app and he had yet to write a single word. 

With a sigh, he ran a hand down his face. There was nothing he could say to make up for the years Shepard had lost and more than just John’s life had been destroyed over Alchera. His career, his scars, his friendships… The work he’d done as a Spectre swept under the rug by the Council and Alliance both, many now believing Shepard to be a raving lunatic. 

And this situation with Cerberus…

Another sigh slipped out.

Kaidan wished he could pour his heart out, to let Shepard know how deep the pain of losing him had been. To the crew, to him . The last images burned into his brain played on repeat in front of his mind’s eye: the Normandy’s destruction, and Shepard’s lifeless body drifting over the planet in the cold vacuum of space. No one had been willing to retrieve the man that had saved them from the Geth and Saren, of the hero who had haunted visions of things passed and things yet to come. On that day, Kaidan Alenko’s heart tore in two.

His fingers typed the message before he realized what he’d done.

The words stared back at him, his subconscious willing to destroy everything he’d built over the last two years, all for a man who was supposed to be dead.

John,

These past two years have been more than difficult for me. Seeing you on Horizon brought back old feelings I thought I’d put to rest, but it seems that forgetting you is impossible. I can’t join Cerberus, I won’t, and it has nothing to do with you. Because if I’m being honest, I was tempted to throw it all away to be with you on the Normandy again.

But the Normandy is gone. 

I’m not the same person anymore. I sense you aren’t, as well.

The love I have for you isn’t enough for me to give up on everything I believe.

Kaidan swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. Even if he wasn’t sending a personal message that both the Alliance and Cerberus officials wouldn���t be reading, he couldn’t admit his feelings in that way. They both deserved better than that, even if they’d never get it.

Each day a life with John Shepard seemed further out of reach.

Especially with Shepard in enemy hands.

He read the message once more before hitting ‘delete.’

-5-

The shuttle landed at the pad a few feet away, dust blowing up into Kaidan’s face as he waited. Lifting his hand to shield himself from the worst of the air, he watched as the door slid open, revealing Admiral David Anderson. He wore his dress blues, medals shining in the bright sunlight. Grey was starting to show in his close cropped dark hair, but he still flaunted that dazzling smile that made him appear years younger.

“Major.” Anderson greeted, reaching out to shake his offered hand. “It’s good to see you. Here to escort us to the inquest?”

“Yes, sir.” He replied, eyes involuntarily straying to where Shepard was stepping from the shuttle. He looked better than Kaidan had seen him in years. This Shepard wasn’t the ghost he’d met on Horizon anymore, half-mended flesh barely held together with cybernetics. His scars had healed, concealing the eerie glow of the implants underneath it, and he’d even put some muscle back on his once thin, almost frail frame.. If Kaidan ignored their purpose for being here in Vancouver, he could almost pretend they were back on the SR-1.

“Major, huh?” Shepard smiled, raising an eyebrow expectantly, almost as if he was waiting for Kaidan to detail the mission that got him the promotion. Like he hoped Kaidan would treat it like old times.

But it wasn’t.

“It’s recent.” He said instead, nodding as Anderson excused himself briefly. Kaidan’s hands were clenched at his sides as he tried to reign in the sudden longing in his heart. He missed those smiles more than he wanted to admit. “I, uh, would rather not talk about it right now.”

“That’s fair. It’s not like I’ve done anything recently to give you reason to trust me.” If Shepard’s words brought him any hurt at all, his voice didn’t betray it. When Kaidan glanced at him again, Shepard was watching Lieutenant James Vega as he stood at parade rest beside Anderson, trying his best not to fall asleep at the conversation the Admiral was having with the lawyers assigned to him.

Kaidan stared at him in silence, memorizing the new scars above his brow, the freckles that dusted his nose, the smooth skin on his cheeks and jaw. John’s hair had grown considerably since Horizon, nearly brushing his shoulders, dusty brown locks that looked as soft as satin.

Kaidan resisted the urge to reach and brush his fingers through it.

This man had done awful things, was on trial for many of those crimes, but stood resolute, fearless. He always had. It was one of the things that Kaidan always admired about him. Shepard was the Butcher of Torfan, but he was also human… he made mistakes like everyone else. What made him different, even special , was that he wasn’t afraid of owning up to them. 

Is that what this was? A misunderstanding? A mistake?

Somehow, Kaidan didn’t think so.

“Did you do it?” He asked, voice quiet and yet, Shepard heard him as clearly as if they were standing in an empty room. 

Shepard’s jaw tensed and he glanced away briefly, blue eyes fixed on something far away that Kaidan couldn’t see. Lieutenant Vega had noticed the movement and looked at them with curiosity. It felt like forever before John shook his head, unfocused gaze landing back on Kaidan.

His fears must’ve shown on his expression because John’s eyes darkened. “Don’t look at me like that, Kaidan. Not you, of all people.”

“I’m sorry, Shepard.” And he was sorry. This wasn’t at all how he wanted to see his former friend again. Not after Horizon. The circumstances never seemed to favor them. “But you have to know what it looks like.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The Butcher of Torfan getting more revenge against batarians?” He laughed, but there was no amusement in it. “Yeah, I get how it looks.”

“Not to mention, you were flying Cerberus colors.” 

Shepard flinched, the reminder an obvious low blow. “I was under Hackett’s orders.”

“Not officially and that’s all they care about.” Kaidan sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “What happened out there, Shepard?”

“You’ve seen the report, what do you think?” 

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” Kaidan replied, opening his eyes to see the flash of pain on Shepard’s face before he hid it behind his usual stoic mask.

“It does to me.” 

The words were so quiet that Kaidan almost missed them.

“If you’re right about the Reapers, then you didn’t have a choice.” Kaidan said after a moment of silence, hating how strained his voice sounded at the admission. It’s not that he didn’t believe Shepard. He did and that was part of the problem. Because he knew exactly what happened when someone has no other option in a fight that was bigger than themselves.

“It doesn’t make it easier to bear though.”

The regret was nearly palpable in John’s words.

“No, it doesn’t.”

Silence fell between them again, heavier with a truth only a few people knew. Even if they thwarted the Reapers, even if they stopped the whole harvesting of organic civilizations, the loss would still be catastrophic. Winning wouldn’t feel like a victory at all.

“Kaidan, before I leave, there’s something I need to tell you. Just in case…” Shepard trailed off, but the meaning was obvious.

Just in case we don’t see each other again.

Kaidan’s heart broke at the look in his friend’s eyes. They’d once been close, telling each other things that they couldn’t tell anyone else, being there at each other’s six, knowing the other’s tells and expressions, but this gulf between them had only grown since Alchera, since Horizon. Kaidan didn’t want it to grow anymore. Not when the things he felt were still so real. “Shepard-”

“Commander.” Vega appeared at John’s shoulder, a hulking mass of muscle that would’ve been easy to spot any other day, but now surprised them with his sudden presence. “We have to meet with the Admirals now.”

John closed his eyes with annoyance, taking a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke. As always, there was never time. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Sir, Admiral Anderson-”

Shepard stiffened, but before he could snap out a reply, Kaidan cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of both men beside him. With a small smile, he tried his best not to look put out by the inquest, by the politics, and he was sure he failed by the slant of John’s eyes. 

“You should probably go, Shepard.”

He caught the hurt that John tried to hide behind his tense smile. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll see you around, Kaidan.”

As Shepard turned his back on him, Kaidan couldn’t help feeling the deja vu in the worst way.

-6-

“Is that what they did to you?”

Blue eyes flashed coldly and for a moment, Kaidan had a terrible thought that maybe Shepard was a threat much like the mangled creature lying on the ground a few feet away. Was Shepard another husk waiting to be unleashed by the Illusive Man? Could Kaidan trust him? And could he trust himself to do what was necessary if Shepard was a threat?

“How could you compare me to him ?” Shepard snapped, the bite of his voice familiar and foreign all at once. Like so much in their lives now.

He glanced away and realized too late, he probably shouldn’t have. If Shepard was a Cerberus weapon, he needed to watch his back. Unfortunately, the man who usually did that was the one he needed protection from . “Shepard, I don’t know what you are… or who. Not since Cerberus.”

A slight headache appeared as his brain forced the memory away, refusing to acknowledge the fear and doubt he’d held. Because it was his distrust of Shepard that had put them both in danger. 

“Is the person I followed to hell and back- the person I…” He managed to stop before he let the word slip: love. He was in love with John Shepard, but this was not the time for a confession. “Are you still in there somewhere?”

“They didn’t change me, Kaidan. But words won’t convince you, will they?”

No, words hadn’t convinced him. But Shepard’s actions, on the other hand, had spoken volumes. They always had, back when they were a lot younger and a lot less jaded about the future, when they were merely friends who hadn’t yet grieved for thousands of soldiers who’d died with a single choice. 

But they were both different now. Changed in drastic ways as the Reaper war dragged on. Because that was how war went, wasn’t it? It tore at every shred of your heart and your sanity until you’re left with nothing but the memories of people you once loved. Memories of who yourself had been at one time or another.

It took longer than he expected to open his eyes. Brain damage, skull fracture, some other things that seemed horrifying and probably should’ve killed him. Instead, he was lying in a hospital bed on the Citadel, receiving the best care that was possible in the middle of a galactic war, all because his closest ally was a Spectre. 

The overhead lights normally would’ve blinded him upon opening his eyes, but he was surprised to find them shut off, nothing by the artificial daylight of the Presidium streaming in through large open windows. Kaidan blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from his vision. A few minutes passed with nothing but the sound of his heart in his ears as his headache began to slowly subside. A C-Sec shuttle flew past the window, descending to the closest shuttle pad. Different species of birds flew through the air before settling on the branches of a small tree. A well dressed couple was walking the Presidium hand in hand, admiring the flowers that had been recently tended.

The Citadel was almost serene in its unrushed pace. He felt like an interloper in the peace, a soldier that lived and breathed war. He shouldn’t be here, he should be on the front lines. Or, if the morose part of his mind was right, even dead by this point. But he wasn’t . And he knew why.

John Shepard.

Shepard always put himself in harm’s way to make sure his people came home, and when they didn’t, he took it personally, even if it wasn’t his fault. Because most of the time, it wasn’t. 

Kaidan glanced to his right where he knew he’d find the man in question, sitting bedside on a clearly uncomfortable chair, hunched over the hospital bed with his head resting on folded arms. He was sleeping, breathing deeply with the quietest of noises leaving his mouth. With his gaze mapping Shepard’s face, Kaidan noted the dark circles under his eyes, the weariness that seemed to haunt his pale skin even when sleeping. Some of his skin was showing wear, the cybernetics glowing crimson between small cracks in his cheeks.

Whatever had happened since the incident on Mars was wearing on Shepard’s health and Kaidan felt a pang of regret. Some of it was his fault, the words he’d spoken to Shepard on Mars were harsh and for that, Kaidan should apologize. If he couldn’t rely on the people he loved and trusted, he couldn’t rely on anyone.

Before he could stop himself, Kaidan reached out, running his fingers through those thick brunette locks like he’d been craving for years. Soft to the touch, it slid through his fingers with little resistance, landing on the white sheets with nary a sound. He twirled a stray lock of hair around his index finger, smiling when Shepard stirred at the touch.

Opening his eyes, Shepard blinked as if he was unsure of where he was. Once he got his bearings, he lifted his head and glanced around, stretching to ward off the embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable position. 

“Hey, Shepard.” Kaidan said, unable to keep from smirking, noting the flushed cheeks and nervous movement of Shepard’s hand over his face.

“Kaidan. It’s, uh, good to see you awake. How are you feeling?” His eyes dropped to where the blanket had slid down, exposing Kaidan’s chest. 

He might’ve felt embarrassed if he didn’t enjoy the look in Shepard’s blue gaze, eyes roaming the expanse of skin and curly chest hair appreciatively. “Better. You didn’t have to wait here for me to wake up. I would’ve sent you a message.”

“Are you sure that’s true?” He glanced up, a worried frown pulling at his mouth. “You weren’t happy with me on Mars.”

Kaidan looked away this time, his hands seeming more interesting than the man beside him. “I was… wrong about you. I’m sorry.”

“Kaidan-”

“I need to get this out, John. Please .” When Shepard fell silent, Kaidan took a deep breath, closing his eyes and releasing it through his nose. It was comforting to feel Shepard next to him, to know that he’d watched over him whenever he was on the Citadel, for however long Kaidan had been sedated. “We were both wrong about a lot over the years, but… this is all on me. I didn’t trust you when I should have.”

“I haven’t made myself very trustworthy.”

Kaidan snapped his eyes open, a glare directed at the man he couldn’t deny any longer. With everything he’d been through: the Alliance using his dark past to their advantage, the Council using him as a tool to further their power, the prothean beacon’s visions nearly tearing him apart, the threat of the Reapers and Geth… and then to top it all off, his death and Cerberus resurrection. The months of being forced to work with his enemies while his allies said terrible things about him, Kaidan included. Bahak and finally being proven right about the Reapers while everything the galaxy had built was being destroyed.

Kaidan didn’t know how Shepard was holding himself together.

“That’s ridiculous.”

The smallest grin appeared on Shepard’s face. “Hey-”

Kaidan wanted to reach out and shake some sense into Shepard, but he was partially to blame for that. He made Shepard doubt himself and he never wanted to see that again.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Shepard, and you’re being too hard on yourself. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you after Horizon. Or Bahak. Or the millions of other times I should’ve been.” He paused, tongue going numb as he pushed his final thought into words. “You’ve always been strong for everyone else. Let me be strong for you.”

His smile widened. “From a hospital bed?”

Kaidan nudged Shepard's shoulder with his hand. “Ok, jackass, very funny.”

Shepard caught his hand before he could pull away, gently holding it against his chest, eyes sparkling with laughter. Kaidan missed seeing him so lighthearted, so at peace. If he could bring a little hope in the face of so much darkness, he’d accept that responsibility wholeheartedly. Entwining their fingers together, Kaidan gave a little squeeze.

“I’m here, John. I wasn’t before and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But-” He held up his free hand when it looked like Shepard would interrupt. He relaxed, watching Kaidan with wonder. “I’m not going anywhere. If you’ll have me, of course.”

Shepard was quiet, holding Kaidan’s hand as if letting go would be the end of the galaxy. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Kaidan smirked, leaning closer and brushing his free hand through John’s hair before hooking a finger beneath his chin. Tilting his face so their eyes met, Kaidan let his hand drop to the bed. “What do you want? You’ve given everything for the Alliance, for this war. What is the one thing that Commander John Shepard wants?”

There was no hesitation in his next words. “ You .”

John moved faster than Kaidan expected, pulling him closer so their lips met sooner, their desire crashing like waves, relentless. Years and even death hadn’t quelled his feelings for the man in front of him, and it seemed the same could be said of Shepard.

“I love you.” Kaidan whispered against his mouth, enjoying the feel of John pressed against him. The muscles in his neck twinged slightly, but he ignored it in favor of kissing Shepard again, letting every feeling of love and hope and adoration he felt echo in his touches.

There was still a war to fight, and Kaidan likely had to wait to be officially discharged, but for now, they had each other and he wasn’t going to let what they had go without a fight. He’d wasted enough time. 

John broke the kiss, gasping slightly for air, and Kaidan laughed, the sound breathless and happy for the first time in so long. He sent Kaidan a bemused look, but chuckled quietly. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ll have you know…” Kaidan trailed off, his head so full of the reality that he’d just kissed Shepard that this fight didn’t seem to matter as much as it might’ve once upon a time. With his fingers tangled in Shepard’s hair, he brushed his lips against his jaw. “Actually, that’s fair. Considering how long it took to get here -”

“I love you.” Shepard interrupted, trailing a finger along his cheek, cupping Kaidan’s face in his hand a moment later. “I have for a long time, Kaidan. If I’d known-”

Kaidan leaned forward, their foreheads touching in the silence that followed. Regret. It was something both of them had, about so many things, but he wasn’t going to regret this . Because even if one of them had confessed at any time in their past, it wouldn’t have been right.

This was the moment they’d waited for.

“As much as I want to say it would, I can’t pretend that it would’ve made a difference. Changing anything about our past could’ve changed the future and not for the good. I love you, John Shepard, and I’m going to fight for us. No matter what happens.”

John nodded, but said nothing. There was nothing that could be said. They might not have everything, but they had each other.

It was enough.

[pastself]

17, 25 and 29 for the writer asks game!

29/ how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

Sometimes, super easy. Want for Nothing, Everything is Legal in Jersey and Bare just... arrived with their names! Other times, it is literally the last thing I decide. Called on the Devil & Groupie Love were so fucking hard to name.

25/ besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

I'm first and foremost a reader! In a previous online life, I managed to turn that hobby into a side hustle as a reviewer. (And subsequently learned that monetizing my hobbies was v v bad for me lol.)

17/ talk about your writing and editing process

*cracks knuckles* (mild spoilers for Want for Nothing below, as well as way more detail than asked for :)

This year, I finally diagnosed my writing style: I'm 95% a "methodological pantser". (Highly recommend this youtube series on writer types, icymi. Tell me what kind of plotter you are, ursa!)

In practice, this means I intermix writing and editing, and really struggle to know if something will work unless I actually write it. (For the record, after learning this about myself, I did *try* techniques for other writer types in order to test the diagnosis. It was ±okay but I clearly have a preference.)

When I start a story from scratch, I usually only have one situation/vibe in mind. I write outwards from that and see where it goes. Sometimes, this means I have to loop back and imagine background that got me to that moment. But other times, it is just a case of constantly building forwards. (And course correcting when I lead myself in the wrong direction.)

E.g. I started Want for Nothing writing the prologue and the first Peter/Steve and Pepper/Peter scenes -- and then worked backwards to get them to that moment. I repeated that back and forth a million times to establish the first 50%. Harry cheating, for instance, was only something I worked out once I wrote the Gwen intro -- and I only wrote that because I had just written a scene where Gwen called Tony a creep and where did she come from?

The struggle with writing this way is that I can get myself to a problem with no solution. For example, I knew the Ned/MJ/Tony games night would be the catalyst for breaking Peter out of his "hide from the world" stasis. But then what? I literally had to write out like 5 versions of that scene to find out.

Sometimes that "then what?" material can be reused in other contexts (as I recently did with a good 3k of scenes I just wrote for Bare), but it's often thrown away. Life would be much easier if I could "feel" what works via outline, but bon.

Where the "methodological" part of my pantsing comes in is in my endings and establishing plot beats. I write my outlines *after* I've written ±50% of a fic, to get an overview of where things stand, where things are missing, what needs to go. Once I realise "oh that scene is the midpoint", I can usually sketch out the ending without needing to write a million drafts of it. (That said, the last 25% is often when my brain stops having ideas :)

In terms of final edits: while I am a fast "write the bones" type, adding on the details takes me forever. I usually rework a section ~10 times, sometimes even tweaking plot points. My last step is to listen to the text read aloud ~2 times (using disability functionality) for final read through and to spot typos. 

thanks for indulging me with the asks! <33

[keysimash]

fuck it. Cringe ass Magolor post from yours truly.

I've wanted to write a proper fic where the tables are turned and instead of Reader petting kitty Magolor, magolor pets and gives physical affection to the reader, but burnout and writers block and embarrassment have mostly stopped me but iys cute and its fluffy and whatever I'm throwing this into the wind, outline and.general thoughts I've had

Cringe incoming

Magolor is always happy to recieve pets from a trusted human with their giant warm hands with long, dextrous fingers that can scritch and pet in ways his own hands cant,

The first time he reciprocates would probably be around 4 - 5 sessions, citing that he "doesn't accept it for free" and that its polite to reciprocate and he wants to look at and examine your weird humanness more closely

OR

if he gets Jealous of His Human coming into his vicinity smelling like Other Fucking Carnivores. Originally in my deleted/reuploaded mag/reader fic this was gonna be a whole thing where the reader was friends with a bunch of Scarfies, and he got PISSED and basically marked the reader by getting super cuddly all of a sudden, the reader doesn't know because humans cant smell like that, and they try to hang out with their Scarfy friends who are like. Staying at least six feet away like "Ummmm. Did you get a boyfriend??? You've got DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH scent all over you lol"

I mean. I've been around mag/reader fics since I was like what, twelve? That sounds right, I dunno I can hardly attach a numerical age to kid memories ANYWAY I've SEEN. how many ppl write him as super possessive and jealous ESP fuckers who are horny for the crowned version you are all sinners none of you are free from sin. This cat is not well adjusted. Anyway

He'd start with your hands, taking them in his gloves, then he'd take his gloves off himself. His hands are smaller under his gloves but still pretty big compared to his own body. Still, though, I think they'd be about the size of a human hand, if Magolor himself is about the size of a backpack, since in official art it seems like his hands are half the size of his body?

I picture them soft and brown, scarred, with squishy pink paw pads on the soft parts of the palm and the last pads on his finger tips. He flexes them, and dark claws come out, relaxes, they retreat: repeat this a few times before he places his gloves neatly somewhere nearby, putting them there without looking or turning, hes already seen the room: hes looking at You, big yellow eyes, glowing a bit. White pupils all wide, taking you all in, making his eyes look lighter.

When he actually starts touching it would be more curious that affectionate, hed definitely be bending fingers and gently moving your elbows, not painful, just Examining, his skeleton is so different after all, and he has no limbs to speak of. he presses deep with his hands until he feels the bones underneath, puts his hands in different spots, on your shoulder, asks you to move and feels the bones move with. Takes a claw and runs it under your fingernail, just barely pressing in, not enough to hurt, just enough tto scrape out any dirt, remarks on how dull your claws are.

The readers own reaction would definitely affect his a lot. He really needs input from others to figure out how to compose himself, a calm and composed yet pleased reaction would fluster him more than anything as he would start to get embarrassed himself doing something so focused on another and yet, he would want praise very badly.

Teasing him would get teasing back:

He would call you silly names making fun of your human features if you teased him lol like "foot-haver" or "magicless loser" etc (he would immediately stop if you seemed actually upset)

but it wouldnt take much to make him into mess ;)

Any flusteredness or embarrassed behavior he will latch onto and tease relentlessly in order to feed his own ego and false confidence, somethin like:

"Hah! You should see your face" "does it feel that good? I havent even done anything yet"

If he gets called out on making petting seem .. less innocent he will accuse you of being the one with a dirty mind lol

The two possibilities here are either his human partner gets more flustered, which might go something like:

he starts purring at the reaction to his own touch, starts running one claw lightly along your arm. Presses up close, close with his head under your chin, purring purring purring, you can feel it and hes like a little furnace. Because he floats he can press his whole weight against a human with little effort, he presses and nuzzles then his hands find the back of your shirt and knead. His face he rubs along your shoulders and neck

OR the tables get turned on the cat egg:

Pointing out his purring, saying something like "you seem excited to do this, dont you? :)" Or commenting on how cute or lovely he is and keeping on doing it, hitting that reward center in his brain so starved for attention -- hed probably make a cute little sound at that -- or if a human touched him and started petting him while he was trying to give affection, that reciprocation would make him pull his scarf down and lick one long stripe up your arm.

I was thinking about Halcandran tongues: carnivores, yes, so barbed like a cats to lick the meat off bones, but: they're not exactly flexible like a cat, they can move but not as freely, they're not exactly egg shaped but still. So grooming would become, either something one did with ones own hands or, a communal activity, social bonding.

He would feel scratchy, his face soft: a lot flatter than a normal cat, he still has a bit of a muzzle but not much. The whiskers tickle, he pauses at the crook of your elbow, looks up at you, licks a few more times, pulls away a bit.

"You taste salty..."

If allowed to continue he certainly will, kneading and laving over the crook of your neck, nibbling curiously at collarbones before nosing into the dips they make under your skin, etc etc. He will examine the shell of your ear with a paw, purring close to it, will lick through your hair if it's short, it would be like fur to him; long hair he would comb through with fingers, hovering around you to nuzzle the back of your neck, purring all the while.

Eventually, he might get to your hands, and he would, well. I should stop before I make a post tha would get me banned from.tumblr, lol.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Misattribution of Arousal Theory

me?? writing a fic based on something i learned in class????? never

jk its a tradition at this point. welcome to the circus

Pairing: geraskier

CW: dislocated ankles, inaccurate medical procedure/info (idk if this is how it works but i liked the vibes), Jaskier needing a rescue, the meet cute of my dreams, if i missed something hmu

_____________________________

The pop of Jaskier’s ankle dislocating almost echoed through his body. He knew that wasn’t how sound worked, and bones weren’t that kind of hollow, but the immediate signals of “oh fuck” that shot through his body seemed to amplify the sound in a way that made his stomach churn. 

He laid there on the forest floor for what felt like hours, metaphorically kicking himself for focusing more on where his phone was pointing than where his feet were going. At least that deeply ingrained need to be near his phone kept him from flinging it too far away from him as he fell. The rescue team the firefighters said they’d send in their place would be there soon at the very least. Not that he was thrilled for anyone to see him in that condition or prepared to look another adult in the eye and tell them how he’d done this to himself. 

Just as he was starting to think no one would ever show and he would have to drag himself back to his car and drive himself to the hospital on the busted ankle, he heard a distant rumbling shout. Propping himself up on his elbows, he could just barely see a bright reflective jacket through the underbrush surrounding the trail. The voice shouted again, this time close enough for Jaskier to understand his name.

Relief flooded his body and he let loose an unhinged cackle before summoning everything he had to yell, “Over here!”

Jaskier could only see the vague outline of a man through the massive ferns and maple saplings, so he wasn’t at all prepared for the Adonis that emerged from around the bend, looking down on him like a gift from a god with a sick sense of humor. He was probably Jaskier’s height, definitely wider and more muscular, something very obvious from how his black under-armor shirt clung to his pecks and biceps. The reflective jacket tied around his waist only emphasized how this man was superhero-shaped and momentarily distracted Jaskier from the most gorgeous stark white curly hair he’d ever seen. 

It was only after staring at the man’s ruggedly gorgeous face for a few seconds too long that Jaskier realized his mouth was hanging open and he had been slowly inhaling for about ten whole seconds. 

The man graciously pretended not to notice as he picked his way down the slightly washed-out and rocky path and introduced himself, “You’d better not go into shock now that someone’s here. I still need cooperation. I’m Geralt, by the way.”

Jaskier’s mouth immediately snapped shut, and he shoved himself into a seated position, wincing when his leg shifted with the movement, “No shock, still very much in pain.”

Geralt flashed him a disarming grin as he crouched down next to where he sat on the muddy ground, “Yeah? Good. Neither of us wants to wait for a stretcher. How are you with pain tolerance?”

Swallowing hard and attempting not to let the fear show on his face, Jaskier spoke as he watched Geralt slowly and gently unlaced the high-top boots he was wearing, “Uhm… depends on what it is? I got my elbow ditch tattooed, if that gives you a hint?” His voice creeping up at least an octave as Geralt removed his boot had him absolutely mortified.

Handing him the boot Geralt shifted to sit on the trail closer to Jaskier’s foot, “And how’d you deal with that? What made it easier?”

“Talking,” Jaskier blurted, starting to feel his adrenaline pick up as his eyes focused on his foot pointing in the very wrong direction for the first time since he fell. He hadn’t needed to see it to know something was severely wrong, but he didn’t know just how wrong until he registered his kneecap pointing skyward and his toes pointing toward Geralt, “I- uh. I think I just babled like stream- stream of consciousness- poor artists probably thought I was a lunatic. I got a little yelly too- Like now. Help- helped me breathe, though. And the whole vocal folds connecting to fascia and all that.”

Geralt nodded and smoothed his hand over his hair to push his flyaways out of his face, “What are you thinking about, then?”

After a moment of panicked realization he was in for yet more pain, Jaskier answered a little too honestly, “Misattribution of Arousal Theory.”

To his absolute horror, Geralt paused and raised an eyebrow before asking him what that was. 

“Its this idea- oh shit OW.” Jaskier let slip a bit of outrage on the ‘ow’, partially at himself and partially because he couldn’t believe this beautiful man had to meet him like this. 

“Its the idea…” Geralt prompted, waving Jaskier along as he picked up his heel. 

Searing pain shot up his leg, but Jaskier bared his teeth and pushed through it anyway, if only because the pretty man wanted to hear him talk, “The idea that people can mistake heightened levels of endorphins, aka arousal, for stronger EMOTIONS AND ATTRACTION- FUCK!!”

Almost before he’d screamed about it, his ankle was back in place and the pain dissipated. It was still definitely there, but he could unclench his ass and take a deep, if shaky, breath. 

“Stronger attraction, huh?” Geralt asked, sitting so he could rest his arm on his knee and giving Jaskier a smirk halfway between teasing and seductive. 

“I- I mean it works both ways,” Jaskier panted, leaning back hard on his hands and glancing back and forth between Geralt and his foot now pointing the correct direction, “Can increase disgust and rage too…”

Nodding with an expression that told Jaskier he wasn’t hiding his embarrassment nearly well enough, Geralt rifled through the pack Jaskier had failed to notice when he’d arrived and produced a water bottle, “Whatever you say, college boy.” 

Scoffing before he drained half the crinkly plastic bottle, Jaskier leaned into the joke, “I’m an expert, I promise.”

Geralt laughed as he stood up and Jaskier couldn’t help but be a little captivated when the afternoon sunlight gave him a golden halo. Offering his hand, Geralt seemed to be unable to keep the chuckle out of his voice, “When you write this into a paper, can I get a cool nickname? Maybe The Hero or Knight? Or does my name even need changing?”

Taking his hand and letting Geralt help haul him to his feet, Jaskier squeaked, “Oh, I'm far too embarrassed to write this into a paper. Your identity’s safe with me,” right before attempting to put weight on his ankle and collapsing into Geralt’s arms. Jaskier cursed his adrenaline for making his good leg weak as Geralt wrapped his arms around his torso, keeping him far closer than he needed to while supporting his weight. 

“I think I need to carry you out of here,” Geralt’s lowered, nearly whispered words held far more than professionalism would allow.

Jaskier made the mistake of looking up into his eyes and completely losing his breath. Misattribution errors or not, he didn’t really care; this man was gorgeous and cradling him oh so gently and looking at him with what he could only call a pleading bid for actual interest. 

“I think so, too,” Jaskier whispered. 

The piggy back ride to the trailhead wasn’t exactly glamorous, but Geralt made sure to make up for it later when he carried Jaskier back down the aisle at their wedding.

[maingh0st]

A question did you plot your Taryn X ghost fic aka outline it or just wrote it and let the story come to you?

I'm a methodological pantser (thanks ellen brock for helping me realize my writing process is not crazy ✨) so I started with a very loose idea of: (1) where I wanted the characters to start, (2) where I wanted them to end, and (3) big developments that needed to happen along the way. all the little details came together in the process of writing, revising, re-outlining, restructuring, then rewriting. that might sound wild haha but it's just how my brain works—so yes I had a plan, but my outline was very bare bones to begin with & became more fleshed out as I wrote!

[fanfiction-artist-prototype]

1,26 and 29 for the ask game!!! (You are a fantastic writer dearest mutual mine and I especially am looking forward to your answer on 29!)

Hi marie mutual mine!!!

Ooh I'm looking forward to answering these (did you like the extra angst in your ask box or did my app screw up and not send it to you?)

So, this is a fun one! I started writing when I was... uh... 7 or something i think? I'd play with all these cool dress up games and free flash character creators that had emo/scene music in them and write characters for them.

Then when I was about 10, I decided I wanted to be a writer and started writing more of my own stories and discovered fanfiction and basically realised that if I wanted a fanfic I really REALLY liked that had EVERYTHING I wanted I was gonna have to write it myself and so I've been writing fanfiction since I was 11!

--

Oh DEFINETLY! I've started a new WIP today (bringing that how many wips do you have ask you sent the other day up to a resounding nine!)

So basically, no spoilers but, I'm working on a fic where due to canonical dead parents and time travel someone gets confused for their own Father and the whole fic is basically just this one character trying to be like 'no guys, *I'm* the guy you think is my dad!!

And the specific scene I can't wait to write is when one of the characters first assumes the other is their own kid because they see how they talk and such during a fight and kind of go "Only X's kid would yap like that."

--

Woo okay so hm.

I'd say, the best advice I can give is that even if you're sitting there saying 'But I don't know *HOW* to write this specific scene!' just bullet point it.

Like you know you want SOMETHING to happen right? So break it down and then go from there. I'll make an example now! Say that we want a scene wherein a character starts a bar fight, but we have NO idea HOW to write it? We'd do this: -Bar fight happens (A starts the fight by punching B in the face) (They're fighting because B said something mean about C) (REMEMBER!!! B and C used to date and B is being a dick about it!!) (Maybe dialogue??? "wow big guy? you sure you're man enough for this?" <- maybe not?? is it cliche??) (A wins the fight but has a bloodied lip) See how in doing this we have a start and end of the scene and an explanation for how we've started the fight and hell we even know now that at least two punches need to be thrown and that more than likely there's going to be SOME kind of dialogue in there. From this point we can start turning our bullet points into concrete sentences.

So,

(A starts the fight by punching B in the face) (They're fighting because B said something mean about C)

becomes: "What, C leave you too? Told you they were just a catty little-" A wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the siren call of B's face to their fist, but they weren't listening all that well. All they knew, truly, was that the way B's nose audibly crunched under their fist when the two met was something he'd listen to on repeat.

And see I'm not someone who regularly outlines their works beyond the bare bones, but this can work for areas of you work where you need to skip and move onto the next section of the work or even when you don't know how to start something at all! Just having a list of random ideas to work from/compare to can make all the difference sometimes!

--

Ask Game

[aria-i-adagio]

WIP Ask Meme

Bold of you to think I'm organized enough to have a WIP folder @hoochieblues.

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I'm adapting these to brief descriptions. If there are any ongoing files in my GDrive I'll include the title/first line, but those are temp then everything moves to Scrivener.

Tagging: @atypicalacademic @motherofqups @niffty24, @ankoku-jin and @hollyand-writes

Here's what we have going on right now:

(In addition to the super fun work of writing my own bloody geometry textbook because the major publishers can't be bothered to do it decently/even vaguely in line with the current academic standards.)

Thrift Shop Vikings continues. It is cringe, it is dark, it is... hopefully actually decent. It has also grown from, "eh, think I can make the Nanowrimo draft into a decent short novel" to "yeah... this is going to be three genre length novels." I want to say I'm 80% of the way to beta-reader ready draft of Act 1, but I'm scared of jinxing myself. (That said, if anyone is interested in not quite Game of Thrones level dark fantasy, with yours truly treating crack [omegaverse] seriously, HMU. This is... not for everyone, and much darker than the fic I've written.)

Once Sindre had recovered enough to not feel that he needed to sleep until the end of days and the final battle, he began waking with the sun. Misery barely described... There's an idiom: as useless as nipples on a man

Where the Elfroot Grows is not dead. It is just percolating. In fact, recently Jeanne has been very loud about being the POV character for the arrival back at Skyhold. Also, the fish out of water appeal of forcing Rhys though Halamshiral is just too damn much. Also, I feel entirely empowered to make up my own canon now.

Jeanne became one of Rhys's primary minders Scene: Getting Hawke moving Rhys wakes to a kiss pressed to the back of his neck Adrian's arm remains extended R&D Ocean

On that note, I'm not really filing the serial numbers off WTEG per se, because I think I've backed far enough up to basic fantasy tropes. Or maybe I'm filing the serial numbers off, IDK and IDC. Either way, I'm at the world-building, occasional scene writing, creating lore, boning up on history and anarchist theory stage of taking the elements I particularly like and running with them, while paying more attention to consistent characterization and general coherence in terms of theory and theology. Currently has more of a steampunk vibe, as I can't quite pull off the level of 'sweeping social change more than mage rebellion' with a thoroughly medieval world-build. I would get into my Xnity, but to the left, meanderings here, but it would turn into a thesis. Anyway, both this and Thrift Shop Vikings are engaged with the idea that anyone who believes god is on their side is as dangerous as hell, just in very different directions.

And @hollyand-writes I really do have enough of an outline for Gatsby meets Kirkwall to get somewhere with it. Just maybe not until the school year is over. Every time I drive past the road named for the local moonshiners I'm reminded/start thinking on it.

[lespetitesmortsde]

For the asks thing: 4, 7, 8, 13, 15, 16, 20, 22?

A couple of these I've already answered, so I'll link the previous answers - that's on me because I was slow responding to these asks!

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

Oh god, actual WIPs? Well, posted I have... six for Imodna and one for supercorp. If we include docs that have chapters partially written? Then it goes up to I think 11 for imodna and four for supercorp.

TECHNICALLY. However, I am lowkey working on new chapters for Eyes on Me and Let the Pieces Fall into Place which make it eight posted WIPs for imodna, or 13 total WIPs for imodna.

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

Answered here!

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

Imodna first:

All the posted WIPs: When the Stars Go Out, Dolcissimo, Set the World on Fire, Before the Body Decays, All I Want for Winter's Crest, and Let's Get Out of This Town.

Then there's Eyes on Me and Let the Pieces Fall into Place which are unofficial WIPs. Technically, they're oneshots and complete, but their docs have new content under new chapters so. We'll see.

Finally, the secret ones I'm working on:

Supercorp-wise:

Slow It Down (the only one posted so far), Shatter Me (just needs another round of editing), En Garde (sidenote I love fencing and I hope to find a different title), Three, Working Title I (I'll just say: tattoos), and Working Title II (angst. much angst).

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

Depends on the fic and depends on the chapter. When I first start a fic, sometimes I need an outline doc right away and I'll work on that until I've exhausted the initial idea and spark, just try to use that fire while I can. Sometimes the fic gets away from me and then I need to make an outline doc later instead of a handful of notes at the end of the fic doc.

In terms of sitting down to write a chapter, sometimes I have a series of bullet points of things to hit in the chapter, but more often than not, there's a line or two of notes at the end of the doc to remind me what I want to include/where I'm going and that's enough.

Lots of research happens as I go, though, which I think some people do in advance and thus might constitute planning, but I prefer to do in the moment.

15. How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?

Answered here!

16. At what point in the process do you come up with titles?

Oh boy. Okay. The rarest point of all is at the beginning, but once in a blue moon it happens. In general, I prefer to come up with them at the end - harder for a multi-chapter situation where I try to find something that embodies the overall vibe. When the Stars Go Out is such a long title, but it fit the vibe of what I want the fic to be, and I stumbled into it trying to think romantic and philosophical thoughts when I'd finished the first chapter. Dolcissimo on the other hand has been titled since the outlining stage where I got deep into a glossary of music notation terms and promptly titled the fic, each chapter, and the sequel and its chapters.

20. What’s a favorite title for a fic you’ve written?

If/Then for sure because it kind of fell into my lap after some trial and error and it fits SO WELL. In my humble opinion, of course.

22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

In general, yes. Some fics I have a specific vision and others there might be a particular scene or an emotion I want the reader to come away with. Do I know every detail about the ending? Absolutely not. I haven't seen in-depth a ton of others' processes, but I think I write from a fairly bare bones outline. The act of writing - the typing and the finding the words as I go - really impacts and shapes what comes out. Like. Something happens during the times where my fingers clicky clack against the keyboard and I can't really explain it, but I have, often, a vague goal and my keystrokes get me there. Sometimes far later or after many more words than anticipated.

Are you curious about something? You can ask me stuff, too! Here's the list of questions, but my ask box is always open!

[themarydragon]

How um

How illegal is it for me to ask about multiple fics for that ask game. Just out of curiosity.

Because I would love to know about some of the fics I haven’t heard about, like Bloomic Toasty (WHAT is that), and I would love to hear your thoughts about The Chakwas Fic (supreme group trauma edition).

But I am also 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 about any mention of the totk fics. Respectfully.

You can answer this privately if you want, I’m genuinely not wanting to be a pest here

Completely legal. Any fine I might charge you, you have prepaid in kindness.

"Blooming Panic" is a great little visual novel somebody on here turned me onto, with "Bloomic" being the self-referential shorthand they use in-game. It was great for a mental break last winter when I was sorta in the shit and I think it's free on itch.io That and Andromeda Six (not yet finished) and Our Life were a nice break from darker/harder games and were exactly the diversion I needed. A+ do recommend. That said, there's four routes for Bloomic, and each route has "good" and "bad" endings (as per usual) and the 'bad' ending for Toaster (not their real name) Would Not Stop rolling around in my head. It haunted me. So "Bloomic Toasty" is my taking The Bad Ending and fixing it. Because I can't stand sad endings. Life is sad enough, I want my escapism to be different. I don't have the power to give myself or my loved ones happy endings (all jokes aside) but By God I can do it in fic.

THE CHAKWAS FIC is 65% complete. I have the bare bones ready, I know the ending, I have a (very) rough outline and right now I'm writing When Everything Gets Bad. So it's slow. Part I is complete, and is ME1 time. Part 2 is finished and ALMOST all posted - I'm posting a chapter a week, on Wednesdays - and is ME2 time. Part 2 ends in a place that got me yelled at by everyone I've disclosed the ending to so I'm looking forward to getting hate mail in a couple weeks. Part 3 is my WIP, it's ME3 time and is what I am writing right now. I will NOT be posting it right when I finish part 2 because I need to get it DONE and be sure I'm hitting the right points/plots and I'm not leaving threads dangling. Part 4 is outtakes, more or less, and I have no idea how much will eventually end up there. It is Chakwas' POV. I adore Karin Chakwas, and writing from her perspective allows me to completely gloss over most of the missions and deal instead with the implications of them, and dig into some secondary/background characters that otherwise don't get much time to shine. Writing from Chakwas' POV also - and most importantly - gave me an opportunity to fix the gaping plot hole that is Jeffrey "Joker" Moreau, as well as the utter character assassination that is committed upon him in ME3. TL:DR we already know, NOW, the genes responsible for Vrolik's and there is gene therapy in the ME universe (canonically, as early as ME1) so what the hell, Bioware. Anyways. The WIP I'm currently on - Through Hell - focuses on how more or less everyone (outside the ship) betrays Shepard, in one way or the other. Every major government - canonically - knows the Reapers are real, and yet literally no one will help Shepard deal with it, for a variety of infuriating reasons, and she's smart enough to see how fucked up it all is. By focusing the fic on the Normandy crew (via Chakwas) I can get into the meat of that and have a good reason to skip most of the gameplay.

TOTK I just did a blurb on the Zelda POV for another ask, so I'll expound a little on the Link POV. The title is Restless Waters, from a quote by Sanober Khan: "Do not turn me into restless waters if you cannot promise to be my stream.”

The runner-up for title quote is from Bertolt Brecht, "The headlong stream is termed violent but the riverbed hemming it in is termed violent by no one.”

Thinking about canon Link... he's terrifying. The totk Link commits korok atrocities, intentional or not, as strapping them to ROCKETS is EXPECTED. The murder machines you are encouraged to make are horror shows. But what struck me is (serious spoilers here) the doppleganger fight once you have the four sages. Sidon and Riju know that's not Zelda, but the younger two - Tulin and Yunobo - definitely think that's their Princess. So them showing up to help at that fight is just tooooooo good for me to pass up. The song I'm using to stay in the mindset to write that passage is Halsey's "Control"

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" I can't help this awful energy Goddamn right, you should be scared of me Who is in control?

[pluckyredhead]

hiiiii got tumblr just for this bc I couldn't read all the character profiles without an account. How do you usually outline your works? I can't seem to find a balance between zero plan (which means fizzling out and losing track of where the story goes) and so much plan that all the scenes feel stilted. How detailed do you normally make a story before you actually write it?

It depends on the story! For my original work I outline thoroughly, but with fic I often won't bother, especially if it's short. ("Short" to me is under 20k, because I'm ridiculous.) What is more likely to happen is that I'll get stuck, and then I'll sit down and outline what has happened already and what I know still needs to happen, and that helps me see where the fault lines are.

My outlines are extremely linear. Like for The Lost Titans, the outline for the first couple of chapters would have looked something like this:

titans red dream with the whole team fighting the HIVE

jason wakes up at roy's, is weirded out by the dreams, pines

teamup with bruce and tim, goes poorly

arrowfam celebrates jason's birthday, hint that connor is having the same dreams

titans red dream - jason's birthday

patrol with roy and connor, rose shows up

back to roy's house, eddie shows up

So you can see it's really bare bones. It's really just about moving the characters around the "stage" and making sure I'm putting the dreams in at the right places and leaving clues throughout.

But I also tend to carry a lot of detail in my head, so like, I knew Tim would wish Jason a happy birthday but it's not a plot point so I didn't need to write it down. I don't need to write down Rose's emotional response to Eddie's return because I know what it is. That sort of thing.

But that's me! Some people need a ton of detail before they start. For other people even this would be too much because it would leave them bored by the actual writing. Some people prefer more of a summary to a list of bullet points like this. I recommend trying a few different methods, because every writer is different and there's no "correct" way to outline. The more you experiment, the more you'll find what works for you.

Good luck!

[atiyasnake]

After MANY MONTHS and my brain hooked on dp x dc stuff, I finally freaking managed to work on my bnha wip chapter draft for ch.11 of Coffee on a roof.

Technically, I already had a first draft, but very bare bones, in my opinion, and in need of major rewriting and editing. Usually, the first draft is pretty fleshed out, but ch.11 was giving me some trouble.

But today, by the Grace of Beatrice, I actually wrote what would essentially be half of the final version of ch.11 that I would post on Ao3. I'm sure there needs to be edits cause of misspellings and some other edits but essentially, it's halfway done.

Funnily enough, the 2nd half is much more fleshed out in the first draft, so there's not much needing to be done other than building onto that and, of course it's actually good enough and fits it with the rest of what I have written.

I'm hoping to meet a word count of at least 3,000, and from the looks of it, I think I'll meet it. It would be nice to be able to post a longer chapter after almost 6 months since the last update (December of 2022). Poor readers, I got a few comments about if I had abandoned the story. XD Sorry, my lovelies, I'm just slow.

Seriously, the dp x dc got its claws in me and did not let go.

I have a lot planned and outlined for Coffee on a roof. Kind need to reorganize that whole mess that's not really messy but feels messy. Either way, I'm invested in completing the story so no abandonedment is happening. Tho can't promise it won't take a long time. Still can't believe I finished TIAB so quickly, tho a lot of that was just free writing it in the sense that things weren't really planned at the beginning.

Things are a bit more complex with COAR and I'm really wanting go make sure it comes out good seeing as it's the 2nd major part of the main story. Gotta make sure it connects and all that jazz with the details and so on.

Kinda stressful tbh with the attention TIAB got, but I try to ignore that, less I want to feel the crushing weight of being perceived and judged...no biggie (I am small and sensitive)

Anyways, just feeling happy bout the progress that was made today. Feels nice.

Also, I just gotta remind myself that writing fics isn't my job or obligation. It's something I do for fun and enjoy. Gotta make sure I keep it that way :p

*FYI Beatrice is a character in one of my other bnha wips that has yet to be published and probably will be a big project if I ever get to rlly work on it. It's a whole chaotic quirked 'doesnt die' Izuku style fic (gotta love having multiple cakes). And to specify, Beatrice is a possum...no I will not expand on that.