#talking bout em gets my brain juices flowing and helps me write them. like a lot of the padding of this scene i literally wrote just now

[mockiery]

what's a line (or just a piece of writing/paragraph) from your wips or finished works that you 1) really enjoyed writing, and/or 2) are really proud of?

ooooo yes ur giving me a free reign question here set, love that. ok hmmm

I find some of my favorite bits to write are character interactions, especially ones with complex feelings/motivations and/or conflicts on either side, EXTRA NICE if it's a very early interaction in the characters' relationship or a specific conflict. The dialogue and the insight into the POV character's thought process and emotions is my favorite shit in the world, extra spicy if I can pull off some cool metaphors and imagery in the process.

In "carving out", it's Jake and Layla's 4d chess of a conversation, and in "grounding touch", it's Marc and Steven in the plane's bathroom mirror, most especially the moments around the switch, the transition of POV and emotional transference and all.

Anyway. Here's a taste of Steven trying to reach out to a certain someone, taken from my Post-Cairo #3: Flat wip:

-

With a final deep breath, steadying his gaze into the mirror, he begins; "Listen, I … I don't know if you can hear me, I'm still not sure how all of this works for us, but --- I'm talking to you. Not Marc. You."

Steven feels the blurring on the edge of his mind, a familiar feeling he's only just begun to notice, let alone recognize for what it is. He's gotten better at being in tune with the ebbs and flows of their dissociation, and he thinks ... He thinks he has their "Number 3's" attention.

"I'd like to have a proper chat if possible, but at the very least I'd like you to listen, yeah? I'm new to this, but Marc's even more new to it. This part, I mean. The not-knowing. And he's not going to admit it, to himself even, but he's scared."

And you're not? He doesn't hear it so much as feel it, in his chest. Wordless, like before your mind finds the language to give the thought form.

"No… Well, a bit, sure, but that's nothing out of the ordinary." At Steven's response, whoever he felt on the edges must've pulled back, a shift inside he only notices after he's paused. He grips the sink and steadies his gaze into the eyes of his reflection. "But I'm not scared of you, if that's what you're getting at."

Steven stays open to his feelings. Their feelings. There's a sense of … irritation? Exasperation? Not quite full anger, he doesn't think, but he reaches further. He knows it isn't his, and it isn't Marc's. He knows Marc's by now. Marc's is building, uncontrollable pressure, thrashing against the seams until it bursts through. This? This, deep down within? This is … subdued. Steady. Pointed. Anger with purpose.

"If that's what you're worried about. You're not going to be able to scare me off, Marc tried that himself and it didn't work out, did it? No. So if that's your plan, you may as well toss it out here and now."

ask me about my wips

[khadij-al-kubra]

Thomas In Wonderland (Full Fanfic) Chapter 1

Characters: Thomas (fictional), Roman, Patton, Logan, Virgil, Remy, Emile, Joan, Talyn Deceit, Nate, the Dragon Witch (i mean jabberwalkie), Possibly fan adopted shorts characters

Pairings: None (although knowing me and my love of ships, this may change)

Words: 1368

Summary: Thomas seems to have lost his inspiration, his creative drive, and in short has a seriously BAD case of writers block. Perhaps an accidental trip down the rabbit hole into a land of nonsense and madness will help him find that flighty spark he’s been looking for.

Author’s Note: Greetings guys, gals, & non-binary pals! Looks like this is going to be my first multi-chapter fanfic of the new year. This chapter is more of a prologue than anything so it won’t be as long. If you know my writing though, than future chapters are pretty much guaranteed to be MUCH longer. And as always feel free to leave a comment in the messages or reply if you have any notes or constructive critiques. I’m always open to writing advice. Also, if you would like to be in the tag list for this fanfic, feel free to message or inbox me and I shall happily and gratefully add you to the list. I’m super excited about this, and I hope you all enjoy.

Prologue

Writers block. The bane of his existence and possible the only thing that Thomas hated even more than he hated bigoted jerk faces. ...Okay he hated the latter way more, but writers block was definitely up there on the list, right behind mucky Florida heat and cold pizza. His current bout of creative block however was making its way up that list.

“Come on brain...think of things. Come on brain, be so smart,” Thomas mumbled to himself, disappointed he couldn’t even come up with something more original than a borrowed line from that Lin-Manuel Miranda vine.

He certainly felt like the embodiment of it though.

He had been sitting at the table in his living room for the past two hours. His laptop was opened to a mockingly blank page, a lined yellow notepad next to it covered in scratched out bad ideas, crumpled papers were scattered around him, and his Steven Universe mug half emptied of coffee that was cold by now. To add insult to injury, it was an actually nice crisp yet sunshiny autumn day and Thomas could only sit inside as the beauty of it mocked him from the other side of his living room window. The jerk!

He would’ve loved nothing more than to go for a walk outside or visit his friends, but sadly Thomas had a new script to write. Normally he and Joan were pretty good about keeping on top of schedules and they’d even gotten the last two scripted videos out in pretty good amounts of time. Which hopefully made up for that six month dry spell they both swore never to speak of again. However, Joan reminded him that a new scripted video was due soon and Thomas for the life of him just COULD NOT seem to come up with any new or exciting story ideas! It was like his creativity was wandering around a blank page desert and the oasis of is imagination had dried up.

“Say, that could make for a neat Sanders Sides video,” Thomas mused to himself perking up...only to deflate back down after realizing they didn’t have the budget for that kind of a green screen effect. “Besides, the sides never debate outside of my living room and moving them to a location outside of my house wouldn’t make any sense.”

Thomas groaned and plonked his forehead onto the wooden coffee table. Making videos and writing scripts used to be so much fun. Until it started being his job more than a passion. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was signing up for. He wanted this, and he knew he was luckier than most that he got to get paid for creating art and doing what he loved. Not that he and his team did it for the money. Except lately creating felt more like a chore. Not something eh wanted to do but like something he had to do. Like dusting, which was his least favorite chore. Creating felt like a chore! But he couldn’t let Joan or Camden or his wonderful famders down. So he needed to come up with something good...Thomas just wish he could feel that rush of wondrous joy and colorful excitement about his work again. He missed coming up with ideas that were so out there yet he felt a surge of pride every time they worked. Lately all his ideas felt, well, like looking at a faded rainbow. Which was sad as both and artist and a gay man...But deadlines were deadlines and he had to create something to post for the next video.

“That is if i could come up with something period!” Thomas sighed. “Maybe i need a break. Just five to ten minutes of something fun to get the ol’ juices flowing again. Something exciting...”

He looked at the very cold coffee with a pouted lip. Or maybe I just need a boost from my favorite caffeinated drug, he thought. With that decided Thomas picked up the mug and got up to go to the kitchen. Before he even reached the entryway however, a flash of purple in the corner of his eye stopped him. It was from outside. Curious, Thomas went over to the window to peer outside, hoping to see what that thing was. Maybe it was a pretty hummingbird or something, he mused, on its way flying south for the winter. He squinted as he saw the bushes across his yard tremble and this time he caught the flash of purple as it popped our from the foliage.

Only it wasn’t a hummingbird. It was a rabbit: A black rabbit wearing a velvet purple waistcoat. Thomas did a double take. he rubbed at his tired eyes to be sure he wasn’t just seeing things after staring at a blank screen for so long. Nope. It was really there. And if that weren’t jaw drop worth enough, now the black rabbit was taking out a silver pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket.

“Well that’s not something you see every day.”

Too curious to pass seeing this delightful oddity up close, Thomas quickly set down his mug, pulled his jacket over his favorite faded circle shirt and slipped his sneakers on. He was out the door and across faster than you could say Jeemanetty. When he was a few feet away from the rabbit, who was paying more attention to his pocket watch, Thomas slowed down to a tip toe so as not to scare the rabbit off. As he got closer Thomas saw that there was an elegant storm cloud design engraved on the back of the watch. What a cute little fella, Thomas thought to himself. But where did he come from? How did he get a fancy watch and threads like that? Should I call animal control though? As he was debating this, something even weirder happened.

“Ah geeze,” said the Black Rabbit. “I am so late! He’s gonna have my ears and whiskers for this, along with the rest of my head.”

Thomas literally felt his jaw drop and his eyes bug out near cartoon level.

“You can TALK!?” Thomas shouted.

The Black Rabbit jumped at this voice. The silver watch shook in his trembling hands, the poor thing. He hadn’t meant to frighten the little guy. It’s just a talking black rabbit wasn’t something you saw every day, not even in the Bermuda Triangle of America that is Florida.

“It’s okay little guy,” Thomas said, hands held out carefully. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I just wanna talk.”

The Black Rabbit anxiously looked from Thomas to his watch and then back again.

“No time to talk,” he said. “I’mlateI’mLATEI’MLATE!!!”

And then quick as a lightning strike the Black Rabbit dashed into the thicket of shrubbery and trees. Without thinking about it Thomas ran after him.

“Wait, I’m sorry! Come back! Maybe I can help you,” Thomas called out to the purple clad creature ahead of him.

He chased the Rabbit through brambles and bushes, across lawns and through low hanging leaves. If Thomas had taken a moment to think he would’ve realized that there was no way he could possibly catch up to a wild animal, least of all one with a waistcoat and pocket watch, which was surely proof that he was smarter than the average bunny even without the talking. He also would’ve noticed that the hole that the Black Rabbit had ducked into was much larger than a normal rabbit hole and was probably dangerous if someone were to get too close. Most of all, had Thomas slowed down for a moment to think, he would’ve realized that when he left the house in a hurry, he had forgotten to tie the laces of his sneakers that he’d slipped on.

But Thomas did none of those things. As a result, what he did do was trip on his laces just after seeing the Black Rabbit go down the whole. And because he was so close when he tripped on his laces, even if he wanted to, Thomas could not stop to think now.

All he could do was scream loudly as he fell headlong down the rabbit hole into the unknown.

Next =>

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