#which just seems boring to revise and edit

[vaya-writes]

The Wyvern's Bride - Part 3.2

When Adalyn gets sacrificed to the local wyvern, she’s a little annoyed and a lot terrified. Upon meeting the wyvern, she discovers that he’s not particularly interested in eating people, and mostly wants to be left alone. In a plot to save himself from the responsibilities his family keep pushing on him, Slate names Adalyn as his human Envoy, and tasks her with finding him a wife.

2000 words. Cis female human x Cis male wyvern (slow burn, arranged marriage, eventual smut). firefly-graphics did the divider.

Masterlist - Previous

Adalyn wakes early. She’s used to getting up at sunrise to start baking, and up in the Spires with the balcony door propped open, she has an unimpeded view of the lightening sky.  

Slate had woken earlier still and is nowhere to be found. There’s evidence of his stirring here and there. A blanket in a pile by the chaise. Crumbs at the table. A covered plate of cold toast waiting for Adalyn. She bites into it, relishing the jam Slate had procured.  

She’s tempted to go back to bed. To sleep in until the sun finishes rising. To loaf about and relax, perhaps with a book. But she’s not yet game to go through Slate’s collection, and the threat of boredom chafes at her skin.  

Instead, she dresses for the day, gathers up some of her cleaning supplies, and makes for the kitchen. She’s not sure what state she’ll find it in but is looking forward to using the area herself.  

Light streams into the windows as she makes her way down the Tower until finally, she enters the passage that leads to the kitchen. Its dark, but thankfully short, and when she finds the dining room, the skylight illuminates the area enough to see her to the kitchen. 

Adalyn swears under her breath as she locates the flint and steel and lights the nearest brazier. Perhaps lighting is another thing she’ll have to talk to Slate about. 

When the kitchen is lit, Adalyn leans against the counter and surveys the place. Her legs are wobbly from the trek – it had been nice to stretch them, and she can move without discomfort now, but the hike will still take some getting used to. 

The Matron’s staff had tidied the kitchen. Dishes had been washed and put away, and any remaining food had been sealed and put in the larder (dried fruits are all that remain). Still, there are crusts and crumbs scattered about, and the fire pit is overflowing with ash.  

Adalyn sinks into cleaning. She marvels over the plumbing as she wipes and washes the counters. She puts on a pot of tea when she works, settling into the familiar routine. She even rummages through the larder for ingredients, and once the counters are clean, starts baking some bread and biscuits. She’d brought her starter yeast from home, and Slate’s kitchen is stocked with everything else she needs.  

By midmorning she’s surveying the fruits of her labours with satisfaction. There’s a platter of sweets to snack on, jam sandwiches which she eats on the spot, and a tea set which she resolves to take upstairs. She sets aside a handful of other things to take to the Tower, so that she won’t have to descend to the kitchen each morning for supplies.  

Throughout the morning Adalyn had noted a distant rumble. It had been almost comforting. In the stillness beneath the mountains, with Adalyn’s busywork being the only sounds, it soothes her to hear something else. 

When she finishes her work and takes a moment to breathe, she listens to the sounds with curiosity, then recognition. The occasional boom and slight tremors beneath her feet could be indicative of a cave in but had been too consistent. It’s more likely Slate, at work somewhere within the Spires. 

She glances at her food, then around the kitchen. There’s honestly not much else for her to do, and with the rest of the day stretching out before her, she decides to explore. 

She sets off in the direction of the byway, following the distant sounds of earth rending, retracing her steps through the dining hall and a winding passage before she emerges into the enormous cavern. At the size of it she blanches. Awe inspiring as it is, the walls are still unremarkable, and she worries that she might lose her way. She’s looking around for landmarks, anything to help mark one passage from another, when she notices the pile of stones beside her.  

Their purpose immediately becomes clear. Adalyn notes the number of stones and their arrangement – unique. Each door marker is different from the next. She resumes her exploration, walking alongside the stream and taking in the sights. Plant life creeps down from the ceiling, spilling over the edge of the cave opening, high above. The area is almost lush. 

She doesn’t have to walk the entire cavern, thankfully. The sounds are coming from just across the main-way, and she eyes one passage speculatively. The gouge marks around the edge of the doorway are fresh; debris and dust litter the ground and a set of footprints, visible even to her, track through it all. She spies a bundle of white and stoops to examine it. A shirt, discarded in a heap. 

She’d go in after Slate if it weren’t for the darkness. At its thickness, she balks. Even if the wyvern were through the passage, she has no way of knowing about any hazards.  

“Slate?” She calls. 

The noise ceases. For a moment she hears nothing. Then there’s the crunch of footsteps. 

“Adalyn. Are you alright?” 

The air swirls with dust. Adalyn waves the particulates away from her face and coughs. “I brought you lunch, though it might be early.” 

Slate emerges from the darkness, pausing at the threshold of the shadows. “It’s never too early to see you, dearest.” 

Adalyn squints at his outline, using the expression to cover her embarrassment. “Do I get to see you?” 

He straightens, and steps out of the corridor. Contrite, he runs a hand through his hair, smearing a white streak through it. “Sorry. Difference in eyesight, I guess.” 

He’s shirtless, in his demi form. There’s a layer of filth and grit covering him, almost creating patterns against his grey skin and dappled scales. 

She eyes the swarths of them: thick and dark on the backs of his arms and shoulders, lightening colour at his sides, and thinning into skin over his chest. There’s a fresh scar above his left pectoral, and Adalyn recognises it as the place where Slate had removed a scale. 

She drags her eyes away from his chest and forces a polite smile. “Did you want to wash up first, or...” 

Slate gestures towards the cavern. “Let’s go over there. You can sit in the light, and I can take a dip in the stream.” 

Adalyn takes a seat at the bank before unwrapping their food. She sets the remaining sandwiches aside for Slate while she picks at a biscuit. She watches with bemusement as Slate kicks off his shoes and socks before stepping straight into the stream. She catches sight of his back – tessellated scales the colour of coal – and the amusement slips her mind. 

“What are you working on today?” 

His arms are wreathed in shadow, fingers tipped with long claws. Adalyn watches, riveted, as he dispells the claws into puffs of smoke and begins rubbing water up his arms and chest. His skin from the forearms down is still shadowy, and cloudy water streams off him in rivulets. 

“I’m carving the passage from the main-way to where your quarters will be.” 

“By hand?” 

“The first time, yes.” 

He climbs the bank to sit beside her, and she wordlessly hands him a sandwich. He smiles his thanks. “What about you?” 

Adalyn sighs. “I don’t know. To be honest, without a bakery to run, I fear I might get quite bored.” 

“What did you used to do with your free time?” 

She leans back, watching a cloud pass. “Cook. Clean. Garden. Sometimes spin and sew.” 

“Do you like doing those things?” 

“Yes, sometimes. They help me feel in control.” 

Slate considers while he finishes his food. Then rests his hand in his chin. “We could find you a project. I always have several to keep me busy.” 

She grins. Slate seems the type to keep multiple pots on the burner. “You got a list, or something?” 

He straightens and counts on his fingers. “Finish the blueprints for your quarters, carve out the passages and main spaces, contract a smith for fittings, designate a permanent space for my workshops, build said workshops, prototype different elevators,” he pauses, and a blush touches his cheeks at Adalyn’s expression. “To start.” 

She enjoys his enthusiasm. Even if she finds it hard to relate. “I thought you’d finish the Tower first.” 

He brushes some crumbs away and reaches for a sweet. “I don’t want to crowd you longer than necessary. Your space is my top priority.” 

Some of her mirth fades, and she tries to keep a neutral expression. Part of her fixates on those words, searching them for further meaning. Perhaps he is being genuine.  

Tentatively, she replies. “I don’t feel crowded.” 

She misses the way he looks at her, somewhat sharply. Fearing he had misstepped. “You don’t? I- well, I know how humans value their privacy.” 

She purses her lips. Part of her very badly wants to protest the distance he’s literally building between them. But she doesn’t want to push, and risk seeming clingy.  

She lets the topic drop. “So what project do you suggest I take up?” 

He thinks. “You like cleaning.” 

A nod. 

He looks almost pained as his picks his next words. “I suppose I don’t mind if you go through my things. Organise them, I mean.” 

She’s torn again. She wants to react with brevity. Tease him for his tastes. ‘What if you don’t like my system.’  

Instead, she approaches the situation with growing anxiety and caution. She wonders if having her in his space, touching all his things, will drive him to push her away faster. She’s practically a stranger. And he’d been so frustrated with his family meddling.  

“If you’re sure. I know it could be a bother.” 

He shakes his head. His fingers creep towards hers. “It’s not. You’d have to try really hard to bother me. Just wait until tonight. Some of the magical artifacts can be aggressive, and I’d better point them out.” 

She eyes his hand, next to hers, and some of the tightness in her chest lessons. Anxiety temporarily assuaged, she manages a smile. She stands and readies to leave, allowing herself some humour. “Okay dearest.” 

--- 

When Slate joins Adalyn for dinner he is both late and sodden. He lands on the balcony and lingers there, sheepishly wringing his clothes out. 

“There is a bath here.” 

“I don’t want to track dust through my room,” he says before going to fetch a towel.  

Adalyn had rekindled the fire herself and lit the braziers, and dinner is set out when he joins her at the table, once more in his human form. She wonders if there’s a particular reason he chooses the form so frequently. 

“Sorry I’m late. My timepiece is broken.” He bites into a pastry and lets out an appreciative groan.   Adalyn hadn’t found any substantial supplies in the larder and had managed to make some fruit pies with the jam preserves. He swallows and smiles at her. “How are you finding the keep?” 

She shrugs. Adopts a teasing tone. “There’s room for improvement, I suppose.” 

“Oh?” 

“I don’t want to seem like I’m complaining.” 

“Please. Complain to me.” 

“Perhaps you could build an exit or two? I’m getting plenty of fresh air from the balcony, but it’d be nice to go for a walk on the surface.” 

“That’s a quick fix. Though I’d be careful walking around the karst. There’s a lot of places you could fall.” 

“We’re also down to bread and cheese. Some supplies wouldn’t go astray.” 

Slate nods. “I go hunting every few days, but it’s slipped my mind, with all the changes. I’d planned to visit the valley tomorrow; we could stock up then?” 

“What are your plans in the valley?” 

He smiles, coy. “Oh, you know. Post some letters. Check in with some craftsmen. Pick up a gift for my wife.” 

“You’re too sweet.” 

“Right?” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll forgive your tardiness then.” 

“Was that all you wanted? A door and some food?” 

Adalyn narrows her eyes. “I could make a list if it pleases you.” 

“I love lists.”

---

Next

[nothingenoughao3]

Herbert West Was Dead To Begin With (or, why Danbert was always doomed by the original narrative, pt. 1)

Thanks to this post by @gabelish, my brain went in about twenty directions. I have to talk about this or I'm going to end up chewing on my walls, and that's bad for my teeth.

Reading the script of BRIDE, it's... messy. Disorganized. You can tell they pounded this thing out in a month and didn't really have time to revise or edit. What's interesting is seeing the vague shape of a theme despite the rush-job--to get cheeky, it's a bunch of disparate parts that don't quite move in sync. A Bride of an idea that almost, but never quite does, manifest. Especially considering one or two lines that were cut which, it turns out, were integral to understanding that theme.

Let's go over it all, shall we?

Francesca's immediate appeal to Dan feels like a weird choice on the part of the filmmakers. It's asking us to care about a brand-new character without giving us much reason to do so, other than "she's a woman and she's available to the protagonist". This is a big ask in Part 2 of a franchise which, as we witnessed with the collapse of Part 3, relies entirely on the chemistry between the two already-established lead actors. The most boring parts of BRIDE are when Francesca's investigating the Sefton Ward, because neither of the dudes we're here to see are onscreen for a long time, and…

And, well, we'll have to have a big talk about Inherent Value and misogyny/queerphobia/transphobia in Re-Animator, but that'll be for Part 2.

So what's the deal with Francesca? Why is she even here? Is she just there to drive a wedge between Herbert and Dan?

Well, yes. But in addition to being an object kicked between the two leads as needed, she is also an object for the writers' thematic purposes. This purpose is revealed in what Dan says in the infamous scene where they have sex: "So soft... so warm..."

It's the warmth Dan craves, because that is associated with Life.

Francesca is Life. She's associated with food, the real substance of Life--which Herbert rejects. The script even specifies that Dan and Herbert's kitchen should look like it was never used... as though there's no life in it. Fran brings Life to it by preparing food in it. She's also associated with Angel, the dog, who generally senses--not Evil, per se, but the Dead. Angel reacts positively to Fran and to Dan. And Angel tries to attack every reanimate she meets--as well as Herbert.

Dan values and believes in Life. He is seduced by Herbert's quest because he wants to believe that reanimated beings are Alive. But let's be real, he doesn't believe reanimates are Alive. He agrees with Dr. Hill's assertion that reagent "gives the dead the appearance of life". He asserts that Halsey is dead post-reanimation, because, obviously, he doesn't see Halsey as Alive. Later, he perceives the Bride as being a collection of dead human body parts until She's reanimated. At that point, all the stress seems to convince him that she is Alive... until Herbert emphasizes that the Bride is his creation, a being glued together with reagent.

Who, therefore, cannot have Life.

Dan rejects the Bride because he wants Life, someone who is Alive. She's not. This is also why part of his rejection involves him declaring that Meg is dead. The thing that kept Dan on board with the Bride Project was imagining that he was bringing Meg back to Life. Stating that Meg is dead is acknowledging that reagent cannot create Life, so far as Dan's concerned.

Meg's heart is, to me, another symbol. Dan wants it to represent Life, but as the final shot emphasizes, it represents Death. It only had the appearance of Life so long as Dan believed in its validity as a source of Life. Notice that he says "You're not Meg!" in response to the Bride offering him Meg's heart, because it isn't the heart he wanted, only what it stood for. Once he stops clapping his hands and believing, the heart stops beating... and is left in the embalming room, with all the other Dead Things.

They cut several lines where Dan repeatedly referred to Gloria as "Meg". This gives Dan's desires specificity. Dan spends all of BRIDE wanting Meg to Live. That is his central trauma, the source of all his fuckery: he misses Meg and he wants her back. He almost fools himself into thinking she's alive again, then accepts that she's not.

The next best person to escape with, then, would be someone who is Alive.

This is what Francesca gives him.

In the script, Dan resuscitates Francesca successfully once they escape the tomb. He joyfully declares "You're alive!". THAT is what Dan wanted. Life. Someone soft and warm.

To Herbert, though, reanimated life IS Life. He perceives no magical or spiritual dimension to Life the way Dan's implied to (and the narrator of the original stories did). His inability to convince Dan to see things his way is a big part of his downfall in BRIDE, but it also points to a really brutal tragedy underlying the whole plot:

If we take the Integral Cut as canon, and it likely is, then Herbert isn't Alive by Dan's standards, and hasn't been this entire time.

He shoots up reagent. This is in stark contrast, by the way, with the original stories, where Lovecraft emphasized that reagent did nothing whatsoever to living tissue. This is--symbolically, again, I'm not making diagetic claims here--a not-so-subtle declaration that Herbert is Dead. Corpses and body parts get the reagent because they are not a part of Life. And since Herbert gets the reagent, well...

Anything that comes from Herbert cannot be Life. It can only be "the appearance of life". This is why the food Herbert makes looks fake and wrong and is described as "awkwardly made" in the script, unlike Francesca's perfect sauce... Food is Life. Herbert is Dead.

The script of BRIDE suggests that Herbert repeating Dan's "So soft, so warm" line is manipulation, but it sure doesn't come across that way--it comes across as abject begging for Dan to see some kind of value in the Bride Project, and thereby, in him. When the Bride tries to win Dan back over by repeating "You made me!", Herbert, sounding furious, snaps "I made you!". He thematically links himself with Her because she's the big project that will make Dan love only him the Work. He reinforces the theme that he is Dead, or Death.

The way that Herbert gigafucks himself is when he senses that Dan's about to reject the Bride (Death) in favor of Francesca (Life), and Herbert... accidentally confirms this dichotomy with "Forget it, Dan, she's just dead tissue!" That is exactly what Dan didn't want. Herbert objectifies the Bride--but not into just any object. She is turned into a disposable object, a thing they can throw away in a medical biohazard bin. Because she's Dead.

He's trying one last Hail Mary to win Dan back, but their fundamental disagreement on the very nature of Life and Death means Herbert can't even understand how to do it.

Relatedly, Herbert is heavily associated with Dead Places. He is introduced to Dan in the sonofabitchin' morgue and spends almost half his scenes in same. His personal room in Dan's house is Spartan, because Living people need luxury and personal items, and Herbert's... not. He spends most of the rest of his time in the basement--underground, like a grave, get it, hahaha. In BRIDE, we never see his bedroom. Instead, he spends most of his time in the basement/embalming room/secret laboratory which is also underground, and which is interconnected with a tomb in the graveyard. A tomb Herbert willingly tunnels into and accesses regularly, which is totally normal Living behavior and not that of a ghoul...

... and, in the end, he is dragged off into that tomb, and he does not escape. Because he belongs there.

He is Dead (which is why, by applying queer theory, we all think that he's queer and/or trans, about which more in Part 2). Herbert's hard and cold, not soft and warm. He has only the appearance of Life. Everything he creates is Dead.

In the script, when Francesca and Dan meet in Peru, they talk about the cruelty of war, and she says the following: "When the state makes people's lives unnatural, it creates monsters." This is called back when she finds out that Herbert's built Hand Dog out of Angel. She calls Dan a "freak", and accuses him of acting like he's saving people when he's "creating monsters". Because he is behaving like Herbert, he's a freak. A monster. Someone who thinks he's creating Life when he's actually reveling in Death.

Hell, the script describes the reanimate rejects that kill Herbert as "the fruit of his scientific womb", deliberately mocking Herbert's notions that he's creating Life, and also causing me physical pain as a trans dude.

The more I've gone over this theme (in the service of my long-ass fix-it fic), the more it feels like Dan and Herbert were always doomed by the original narrative thanks to this specific, fundamental difference between them. The only way they'd be able to get along long-term again after BRIDE is if one of them changed fundamentally as a person, and not only would neither of them do that, it'd make their dynamic less interesting and engaging to watch. (I mean, shit, I've had to introduce Lovecraftian Great Old Ones to help those two buttheads understand they have a common enemy.)

But yeah. Sorry to say it. Herbert's Dead. That's what made it so easy for Dan to abandon him. Herbert could cut out his own heart and replace it with Meg's. It would not have made any difference. There is nothing, nothing at all, he could have done, not once Dan realized that reagent cannot give Real Life--that it can't bring Meg back to him.

It was always going to end this way. With Herbert lost among the Dead. With Dan fleeing for Life and normalcy.

But that's what fandom's for, fixing all of that... right?

[novlr]

Story Edit Like A Pro!

If you begin a story edit with these questions to evaluate your characters, plot, and setting, you’ll be amazed at how this will help you improve your story!

Evaluating Characters

We’re going to look at characters first. 

The cast of characters is the list of characters in your story. These characters act and react. They create emotion. They show motivation. Without any of this, you don’t have a story. That’s a tall order for your characters. So how do you make sure you’re getting the most out of them?

Who appears in each scene?

Having a list of your characters per scene gives a specific method for evaluating how you’re using the characters and shows you when you need to revise a scene.

It’s time to revise a scene if:

There are too many characters in a scene. Is every character required to achieve the purpose of the scene?

An introduced character lacks detail or has too much detail.

There are names that are too similar and might confuse the reader.

What are their goals?

A character goal is what a character wants. She should want it so badly that your readers feel her need in their guts. And failing to achieve the goal will be devastating.

What gets in the way of their goals?

Characters will drive the tension in your story, and tension is what keeps a reader reading. Putting obstacles in the way of achieving the goal will raise the tension.

Evaluating Plot

Plot is what happens in the story. It’s what your story is about. Here are three questions to help you evaluate each scene and how they relate to the plot.

What is the purpose of each scene?

There must always be a reason any given scene exists in your story. That’s what we mean by its purpose. A scene without a purpose will distract the reader from the main story. It may even bore the reader.

Is there an entry hook opening each scene?

Whatever you read at the beginning of the scene that keeps you reading is the scene entry hook. Every scene must have one by the end of the first three paragraphs or so.

Is there an exit hook at the end of each scene?

Whatever you read at the end of the scene that keeps you turning the page to the next scene is the exit hook. Every scene must have an exit hook. This includes a secret revealed, a cliffhanger, a clue, or a story twist.

Evaluating Settings

Finally, while you perform a story edit, examine your settings. Settings are key to keeping your reader engaged, so don’t ignore them. 

Is the location you chose the best place for emotional impact?

Each scene must take place somewhere, and each location has the potential to ramp up emotion. Often a writer doesn’t think hard enough about where a scene takes place and doesn’t end up using locations effectively. Does the location elicit emotion in the reader or the characters? If not, choose a different location.

Are there objects relevant to the plot or characterization in each scene?

Watch a film without props or a backdrop, and you’d probably get confused or bored. You’d just be watching actors on an empty stage, which would make it hard to believe the reality they’re trying to portray.

Readers are much more engaged in a story if they can imagine the setting that stirs their emotions. 

Are some of the 5 senses used in every scene?

Sensory details keep the “stage” and characters interesting. Without them, both the setting and the characters will seem flat.  Using the POV character’s senses to describe the action will bring your reader closer to the character. So ensure the senses used show characterization or move the plot forward.

[thebiscuiteternal]

Okay, sending the picture doesn't work, sorry about that, so:

Anything for the Au where Meng Yao gets snatched up by a wen solider, works his way up and is one day 'rewarded' by wen Ruohan who has Nie huaisang sent to his room?

Ah, yeah, nonnies can't send images. Submitted images require a name attached too, but with that I can at least edit you to be anon in the actual post. Totally understandable if you'd rather not, however, no push.

(note: I originally had an opening conversation between Meng Yao and Wen Ruohan for this, but my WRH "voice" felt... slightly off. Not up to my standard. I didn't want to extend your wait while I fought with it, so I might try revising it another time.)

---------------

By the time he opened the door to his room, he had gone through over two dozen possibilities for what this 'mystery present' could possibly be-

-and what he found was not any of them.

He put a hand over his mouth to keep any sound of surprised dismay from escaping, lest someone be listening in where he couldn't see them, then stepped into his room, closed the door, and immediately pressed a silencing talisman to the seam before approaching his bed.

Where there was a boy tied to one of the posts.

Almost immediately, his mind began instinctively taking an inventory of information. Which was good. As long as it was occupied doing that, it wasn't panicking.

First off, the clothing that bore all of the hallmarks of the Nie sect- captive, an important one, clearly, yet sent here instead of the Fire Palace.

The overall ragged state of his hair- clearly pulled more than once in a struggle- and the painful looking bruise that spread down from his left temple over his cheekbone- a favorite knockout tactic for attempted escapees.

Gingerly, he lifted the boy's chin, and estimated that they weren't that distant in age, maybe two or three years at the most.

As he continued his examination, his unexpected... guest made a faint little disoriented moan, eyes fluttering open just enough for him to see they were a vivid pale green before they closed again and the boy once again went slack in his bindings.

Meng Yao took a very slow, deep breath and let it out.

Then did so again.

The number of Nie family members who were in or close enough to the central bloodline to inherit that eye color could be counted without running out of fingers, which, put together with the other things he'd made note of, meant he'd been handed none other than the brother and heir to the sect leader currently leading the war against his own.

He had heard quite a bit about the Brothers Nie since he'd first come under the direct command of the Undying Sun. Wen Ruohan's opinions and feelings about them wandered the entire gamut from 'upstarts to be crushed under heel like bugs' to 'wayward children who merely needed to be taken well in hand," depending entirely on his mood at the moment he happened to be -frequently- thinking about them.

One of his very few requests of his sect leader was that he be allowed to keep his job and his home entirely separated, so given that... that Nie Huaisang had been sent here, it seemed that Wen Ruohan's opinion was currently in the 'wayward child' category.

Which didn't exactly make things easier for him, since, again, it could change at any time. For all he knew, this was anything from a genuine gift to some kind of test.

He sighed and rubbed his head.

Alright.

Alright.

He would simply -as if anything about the situation he'd been handed was simple- focus on 'for now,' to prevent giving himself a headache.

For now, this was intended as a gift.

One to be taken care of, akin to a surprise puppy.

He could do that.

Maneuvering into a position that would make it easier to catch Nie Huaisang once he was no longer bound, he pulled a knife from his sleeve and went to work on the ropes. When the last came free, Nie Huaisang slumped forward into his arms.

Huh.

He was a lot lighter than expected.

Filing that away in his mind in case he needed it for later, Meng Yao managed to get him laid out on the bed with very little difficulty.

He was not, however, a fool, so before he resumed examining for other injuries, he tied both of Nie Huaisang's hands back to the bed post.

By the time he was done, he'd found a handful of other bruises -though none as serious as the blow to the head- and some minor scrapes, as well as a qi-slowing sedative that would need to be burned out of Nie Huaisang's system.

And then it would just be a matter of figuring out what to do once he woke up.

[bettsfic]

wip update!

i'd planned to post chapter 3 and 4 of Free Ride before the new year but last week my brain dug its amygdala in the sand and refused to do anything productive. but i picked it up again today and i'm about halfway through revising chapter 3. chapter 4 is still a mess.

in lieu of Making Words Happen, i started playing baldur's gate 3, which is as amazing as everyone says it is, and astarion is as blorbo-shaped meow meow as he seems. i didn't get any writing done last week, but i did do a lot of random world-building for a vampire story involving soulmates.

i'm not even through with act i btw so i'm avoiding spoilers at all costs.

my goal was to finish revisions on Skinless by the 30th, one year to the day i first opened the document. but that didn't happen. that said, i think the major developmental edits are mostly done and i just have some gaps to fill/threads to tie together. best case scenario is to get it out on submission by memorial day. mid case scenario, end of summer. worst case scenario, i chicken out entirely and get back to work on Rabbit's Blood, which is so palatable i fear it's boring.

i've spent the past couple months working on a major life overhaul, so i'll be rolling out a lot of new things/changes over the course of the year. very excited and daunted.

also i'm hoping to have a newsletter out this week!

[inthewindandinthewater]

A Plain of Stars (Chapter 3)

A/n: Finally I wrote another chapter. I know I said I'd write it like a month ago but I had a lot going on with my family and school, plus every time I tried to write I just couldn't put the words down. I also wrote a full chapter that had a huge plot hole, like something so stupid you'd think I haven't been in this fandom for years now. But, I did write the into to chapter 4 by accident so that one should be alone quicker now that I'm done with school for the semester. I hope y'all like this one, it's a little short. Feedback is always appreciated.

(I always end up rereading these and making little edits, all my stories are always getting a little bit more readable :0)

Warnings: Light cursing, arranged marriages, reader is kinda mean

Summary: Agnes Goyle is quickly working her way into your circle.

Chapter 4

⋆⋆⋆☆✦☆☆✭☆☆✦☆☆✭☆☆✦☆⋆⋆⋆

Chapter 3

Poor Agnes. 

Poor boring, tactless Agnes; who had no shot with the boy of her dreams. 

You and Agnes Goyle had become friends last semester, not good friends but friends came few and far between so you would have to grin and bear her. The two of you had been assigned partners for a potions assignment and she had quickly latched. She asked you to take her places, walk the castle with her, and had intruded on your meals with the twins. 

It was about two days in that she began to shift, she’d always been outgoing and friendly, not particularly funny but to her credit she didn’t try to be. But whenever Evan was concerned she seemed to second guess herself, cutting off her sentences or looking anywhere but him when she would speak. Evan, who could be called a moron but never oblivious, immediately took notice of this. 

“What’s up with your shadow?” He’d said one day on the way back to the dorms after dinner. Agnes and Pandora had decided to study that even, Dora had either taken a liking to or a pity for the girl. “Agnes?” You say, shrugging “no clue.” You knew. Of course you knew, but her crush wasn’t for your entertainment and you didn’t fancy playing matchmaker. “Hm” Evan looked annoyed but didn’t dwell on it. 

She was always walking a step behind the rest, cutting herself short when one of you spoke over her, tugging at her clothes, staring off into space. Nothing like she had been when it was just the two of you, then she couldn;t seem to shut up. She filled the empty silence with random facts and stories about her day. You found the chatter a little comforting, Agnes talked and you listened, there was no pressure on you to drive the conversation. It was like having a companion with whom you could be completely mindless, you liked that about her. And if you were busy, or had another place to be, she never minded. 

Even now as she walked slightly behind you, Regulus, Pandora, and Evan she wasn’t the same bubbly girl you’d come to know in the first months of your friendship, it was really starting to grate on your nerves. If she was going to be around she could at least be herself, it was far more enjoyable than the simmering shyness that clouded her now. You tug Regulus closer to you and away from Evan, effectively putting a space between him and the blonde. Agnes, thankfully getting the cue, gives you a surprised but grateful look and steps into the space. “Goyle! Didn’t even know you were there, when did you get so quiet?” Evan chirps, in his all too easy way. “Oh, I just-” she fades away, you give her a stern look. “I just didn’t want to interrupt, plus you couldn’t hear me back there.” An amused huff escapes Regulus as he watches the events play out, he gives you a bit of side eye. To which you shrug. “Next time just shove Reggie over, it’s not like he speaks anyway.” 

Later, when it was just you and Regulus in the library he broached the topic. “So, your shadow has a crush.” He raises an eyebrow at you, “I guess, I really hate what it’s turned her into.” You say, not averting your attention away from the essay you're revising. “So your solution is to play cupid?” That makes you look up at him, the way he’s leaned over the table with his chin in his hand. “No” You exasperate, “my solution is to make her more comfortable so she’ll stop acting like a kicked puppy.” He leans back then, a sardonic expression painted across his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, “is that right?” You roll your eyes and go back to your essay, “what happens when she gets the wrong impression? Evan is used to two kinds of girls. You and Dora, who may as well be sexless, and objects of affection. Personally, I don;t think Agnes Goyle falls into that second category.” 

You huff and throw you quill back into its inkwell, “I don’t know Regulus, maybe I wasn’t thinking about it. Maybe he will like her or maybe she’ll have to realise that she doesn’t have a chance and get over it. Either way it will be a learning experience for one of us.” You snatch you quill back up and go back to writing, Regulus for once allows a smile to curl over his features as he watches you. 

Okay, so maybe it was cruel and self motivated. But, you didn’t have time to worry about it, and for all other people knew you were just trying to make her feel included in the little ‘in-crowd’ the four of you were forming. 

The buzz around Regulus’ reappearance had spread quickly throughout the school and even more had the news about who he was hanging around. Now that you had all grown up a bit people were starting to take sides. War was inevitable, most families had either pledged their children to the darklord or outright denounced his ideology. The four of you sat at the centre of it, not in the sense that you were the main problem in this war, but more that you each straddle a fence. Before Sirius had left it was so clear that all of you, or at least Regulus and the twins would take the dark mark, but now doubt had set in, especially as you all neared your seventh year. Chatter was ceaseless and endlessly annoying, you knew it mattered, you knew the moment any of you made a decision you would polarise either way. You just hoped you wouldn’t be polarised against one another. 

Unlike the others your parents hadn’t made a decision. Obviously they leaned one way, and by doing so and being of the relatively new families to join the sacred 28 you managed to skate by. But the pressure was increasing and you all knew it. “I’m scared” Dora had said to you one night, “I’m scared for all of us.” Her expression was uncharacteristically grave. The lofty demeanour she was known for was slipping out her day by day, the weight of decision squeezing it out her. It seemed even the brightest of you were losing your colour. You shifted closer to her on the couch, putting your arms out as she fell into them in time. You’d never been a touchy person, but Dora knew comfort one way. You’d stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings, ‘it’s going to be okay’s,  and ‘we’ll be alright’s. All manner of things you didn’t really believe. 

Your little in-crowd was becoming more and more tight knit every day, but not in the way that made it seem like you’d always be this way. Not like Sirius and his friends, who seemed to suck new people into their friend group like a vacuum as time went on, they seemed like they’d be a family forever, it made you sick to your stomach. You opted not to think too much about it. No, your tightness felt like a rubberband fit to snap, that one day it would break and you’d all be scattered out the edges of the world. Now, Agnes was slipping her way under that band, none of you felt the security to warn her. Too worried that acknowledging it would be just the thing to break it. 

Regardless, you were becoming more fond of them each day. Even for all of Evan’s chatter, and Regulus’ lack of chatter, and for Pandora's odd remarks, or for Agnes’ little observations; you still wouldn’t trade them for any of your classmates. There was something about the way you fit together, it made the snugness of the rubberband feel more like comfort than an inconvenience. You’d never had friends like this, before you’d had Sirius. But this was almost better, when one of them annoyed you there was always someone else to go to, and for the most part you were all together. Either at meals or in classes you were a unit, the consistency was so nice that the thought of them slipping away made your chest ache a little. 

Christmas decorations had finally been draped across the castle, the yuletide in the air lightened everyone's mood. “Don’t you think hanging mistletoe around a castle full of children is a bit odd?” Agnes remarked as she cut into her pie. “Now that you mention it, yeah.” Regulus spoke, looking across the table at Agnes, who always looked a little ajar when Regulus spoke to her. “True! What are they playing at?” Evan chimed in, looking more over to Regulus than to Agnes, who’d broached the question in the first place. “Maybe it’s just one of those archaic traditions, they probably don’t even think about putting it up anymore. It’s just like the garland of the bobbles.” Pandora directed her musings at the sky, serverying the floating wreaths above her head. “Except it’s not” Evan furrows his eyebrows at her and eventually rolls his eyes when he is given no response from his sister. “I mean, she has a point. I don’t think anyone’s holding a wand to the first years heads and making them kiss for our amusement.” You say, your tone lovingly chagrin. “I should hope not” Regulus says, looking over to you where you sat next to him. 

This had become commonplace, it didn’t matter where you were, you sat down and he sat next to you. It was kind of adorable, like a standoffish housecat that insisted on following you around but never sitting directly with you. “I don’t know, anything above my head in a doorway makes me uneasy after what happened to Severus.” Agnes shivered, remembering the concoction of red paint and god knows what that was soaked Severus Snape as he entered the potions room last week. None of you had been there, being in the year below Severus and not sharing any classes, but everyone had either seen or heard about his march of rage through the corridor back to his dorm. “Those four need to be jailed, if not only for annoying the piss out of everyone who has to deal with Snape.” Evan looked genuinely exhausted, he’d been assigned Severus as a tutor for potions and had to deal with his attitude biweekly. “Maybe, try studying on your own and passing your own classes and you could avoid him.” Regulus shot Evan a look that was returned back twice fold. “Maybe Slughorn should do his job instead of networking with his students” Reglus only nodded at that. 

“He does what?” Agnes said incredulously, Pandora piped up in turn, sensing something that needed explanation. “He likes to form connections with the wealthiest and most intelligent students in each house, he invites students with promise to be a part of an exclusive club so they think fondly of him when they’re more successful.” She says, her gaze falling from the sky and onto Agnes. “Oh” she says, the same look of simmering shyness falling over her once again. Evan spoke next, “his standards are almost inexplicable, don’t worry about not being invited” He elbows her in the ribs gently before leaning down to fake whisper “I’m not in it either.” This turns Agnes into a puddle of blush and giggles in her seat. “His definition of promise is obviously skewed considering both my brother and I made it,” Regulus remarks, pushing food around his plate. The table is silent for a second, all of you surprised at the mention of Sirius. “He has no standards, his methods are about as clear as divination.” You say, effectively smashing the silence and diffusing tension. 

The conversation picks up once more as Agnes tells her latest story about divination, to which Evan can’t help but make commentary. It’s in these moments of distraction that Regulus finds his excuse to scoot ever so slightly closer to you on the bench, and for once.. You notice. 

[inkofamethyst]

July 19, 2024

Restarted the bioinformatics course and ughhhhhhhhhh. The command line is hard. Vim sucks. (read: I am largely unfamiliar with both the command line and vim.) Tbh I might just skip the homeworks because I don't think I'm able to find answer keys for them, meaning I can't check my work. So it goes with a free, youtube-based "class". I might just stick with the theory lessons for now and work with my postdoc in August on application. What I really want is to get a new laptop. Apparently black friday is the best for deals, but I'll see if I can manage to get one before school starts.

Otherwise making decent progress in lab. Doing a lot of histology (sectioning, staining, microscopy) which is going well enough.

I don't think I want to continue with academia after getting my phd. For many reasons. One main one is my mental health. I decided not to pursue theatre professionally because I knew that the requirement to always be a superlative would drain me and because of the lack of job security. Both of these are prominent components of an academic's professional lifestyle. While I know my PI manages a relatively healthy work-life balance and even seems to have a vibrant home life, I fear he may be the exception.

This is fun. Doing my phd at one of the world's top institutions is fulfilling! I am receiving scientific training at a high level. I am interfacing with some of the smartest people I've ever met all the time. I get to dedicate years toward the study of a passion project. I'm even building my financial literacy and managing to put money away. So I don't think it will be a waste.

And it's not like I could never return to academia. A previous mentor of mine has managed it. I could even teach on the side if I got the itch. But the publish-or-perish, soft money insecurity is not for me, I don't think. Weathering attacks on academic freedom and the tenure process is not for me. I think I want something more boring. I think I want a job that is just a job. Maybe even something that actually helps people.

I think my parents are now kind of hoping I'd go all the way, though. I know they'll support me regardless, but every time I've expressed doubts, my mom has told me to stay on the ride for as long as it will have me. Which I agree with to some extent. But I think setting goals and revising them is an important part of life. And it seems I may be revising the ones I set when I applied.

Noticeably cooler as of yesterday. I was so cool last night I was even able to turn off my box fan for the night. Thankful for that.

I'm also thankful for the luck involved in getting into the only program I applied to with more straightforward industrial applications.

[edit: for clarification, i most certainly am not interested in consulting. however. while i reserve the right to look for consulting jobs in the future to get that bag should i deem it necessary, i also believe that others have the right to ridicule me for that decision.]

[spaceagebachelorstan]

i am very bored rn, so

ride the cyclone youtube au

they all have semi-popular yt channels in this au. i dont know what counts as popular so take that as anywhere from 1-20k each. whatever you see it as will work

mischa

had to start with the king of kaching himself. Obviously he posts frequently to badegg, most of his time on his yt chamnels goes to his music, but he'd start badegg_games as a little side thing and react to horror games he really likes, which gets peoples attention. he puts links to the original badegg in his descriptions which leads to more people finding his music. how much more? you decide. he also collabs pretty frequently with ricky, and brings other choir members on sometimes. his backgroud is just his room, maybe with some extra lighting. he edits his own videos and they are exactly how you'd expect them to be.

ricky

he absolutely has a gaming channel. he might stream as well. he's played every single fnaf fangame, including all the dating sims. hes also played onlycans. that one got age-restricted. any niche game he finds he makes a video on it. he uses text to speech in his videos, most of the time in post production so he doesn't have to type as he plays, and adds big subtitles. he also has a complete timeline of zolarian history. mischa and him collab pretty frequently, often playing multiplayer horror games together. he spends a lot of time on his video borders, and his channel logo is very fun and colourful. his cats show up very frequently in his videos, and when its something he doesn't think will jumpscare him, they're often sat on his lap as he plays. rpgs and sci-fi are some of the main types of games he plays, but theres a big variety. his channel name is linked to cats, zolar, or both.

ocean

she is freesciencelessons, but for every single subject. she is the only reason anyone is passing anything. she started it as either some extra credit project or as a way to revise, but people started following her and she actually quite liked making the videos, so she kept going. she doesn't bring other people onto her channel very often. her videos range from ten minutes to half an hour, depending on the subject, and shes very thorough. if its on any type of standardized test, ocean has made a video on it. she makes props for her videos and asks penny or ricky to animate things for her sometimes. her channel name is something simple like rosenbergrevision or something.

constance

did anyone watch quake n bakes? because that is what she'd do. shed post themed tutorials on how to bake different things. if it was a choir member's birthday, shed make them a themed treat and give it to them in the recording (if they were ok w it). her most popular tutorial/recipe were these 3D minecraft mob marshmallows she made for ricky, but her personal favourite are these little rose-shaped meringue cookies. sometimes she posts sewing videos as well, or little arts and crafts videos. she also promotes the cafe or makes cafe vlogs, but not often. her set up is pretty aesthetic and neat, but nothing extremely fancy. her intro is. short but sweet and she. has a little logo. her channel name is smthn like blackwoodbakes or connie'skitchen.

noel

he started making videos about poetry and film history and french cinema just to talk about them really. it was a passion project, he wasn't really too bothered about how many people saw it. he put work into it because he liked it, and he's haply with the followers he has. his videos are really long, and he goes super in depth. and then, he loses a bet to someone in the choir, and makes one of those "i watched _____ so you didn't have to" videos about some rlly bad movie that everybody takes the piss out of (think after or something). im picturing him with like a wine glass in hand making quips about whatever scene is on. it gets so many more views than his other videos. he's absolutely livid. but he makes more bcs people genuinely seemed to like the video. his dramatics and insults were quite interesting to watch, and soon its a pretty regular thing (if regular means once every four months). he still mostly makes his videos on things he likes, though. also, he managed to rope ocean into watching some horrible basic film with him and people like their dynamic, oddly enough. on halloween he reacts to horror movies with mischa. his channel name is something serious and probably ties into france somehow.

penny

shes a faceless youtuber and she has a pretty wide variety of videos. she used to be a stan acct for johnny moon before legoland, and she had to post a video on why what she did was wrong as community service. that one got a lot of views. she has a lot of art tips and speedpaints, as well as a lot of vlogs and a draw my life. she has a lot of videos about different types of music as well. her username has something to do with jane doe, she thought abt it because shes faceless and doesnt show her identity online and thought it was a fun idea. her set up is pretty basic, but its nice, and ezra's voice features in a lot of videos. the other choir members don't normally appear on her channel, but she, ricky and constance did an art challenge once.

[mikasa-last-hope]

If you collect all the reasons why you like rivamika?

Thank you for your question, Anon 😉

I hope there won't be too many spelling mistakes!

[MANGA SPOILER]

.

.

Make me like Levi.

Perhaps an original reason but a Rivamika scene made me like Levi. Yeah… when I started AOT, I didn't do shipping and I didn't like Levi. For me, he was just another badass character, cold, who did not express any emotion. Typical shonen character, seen and reviewed. How boring.

Then, I bought AOT volumes in colossal edition and I reread the manga. (side note : The colossal edition is super cool because the panels are obviously bigger and the paper is smoother and whiter, I find this edition more qualitative so I recommend!) So, I reach the chapter 30, the first real interaction between Levi and Mikasa and I see this panels in a very big format :

I can't really explain it well, but something clicked in me when I finally saw some real expressions on Levi's face. From that moment I got interested in him and started to like him, then discover that contrary to what I thought at the beginning Levi was a character with an interesting psyche and background. (Although I think it's a pity that Isayama didn't exploit it further… But it' s also the manga format that wants that, it's more limited than a novel.) He's a gray character who can be capable of committing heroic acts as well as terrible and even vicious things. He's a character that is very interesting to analyze and to write about. In the end, he became my favorite.

Levi's discreet interest in Mikasa.

I like how Mikasa managed to pique Levi's interest. I always found that sometimes she was ignored or put aside by her own friends so I really appreciate the fact that someone paid attention to her and is concerned about her.

Then, there are his stares on Mikasa and speechless!Levi :

Levi wants to give meaning to all the sacrifices that have been made. Without it, all the people he lost will have died for nothing. It's personal but at the same time it gives him a selfless side, which closes him off a bit in a rather heroic character despite his flaws and his darkness. So it gives me the impression that we are dealing with "Captain Levi" most of the time, a closed person who is only interested in what might serve his noble cause. But his interest in Mikasa, although it's a bit professional, also seems rather personal, an interest he has as just Levi, as a person.

And, with Mikasa, Levi seems to be more reserved and hesitant, which deepens his character and makes him more approachable than an always charismatic and confident "Captain Levi".

The evolution of Mikasa : from hostility to trust and care.

Mikasa with Levi goes from this :

to this :

Mikasa doesn't like Levi at first, at least not since the court. But as time goes by, there is a real evolution of her opinion about him. Even though she still holds a small grudge against him, I still feel that she realizes that he isn't as bad and evil as she thought. She saw the "bad" sides of Levi first but ends up seeing his good sides later. She learns to respect him, follow his orders and trust him.

There is a real positive development that has been done (although in my opinion it has not been sufficiently exploited) and which shows that Mikasa is capable of questioning herself and revising her opinion.

Their interactions with each other.

Their interactions are really nice to see and read. They're both my favorite characters and I ship them together so of course I love the scenes they have together and I probably have a biased view because of that but… I still feel that there is a kind of special atmosphere between them. I can't put words to it, but it's like there's something deep and latent. It's more obvious in the manga, but there's almost always a game of looks between them :

⬆ Here, I really like the focus that tightens on Mikasa's eyes.

⬆ The way Mikasa turns her eyes on Levi… the way there is once again a tight focus on her eyes gives it a more intensity/meaning to them. And Levi seems to turn his away as if he's uncomfortable with it whereas he's usually the first to stare at people…

⬆ This page is simply amazing. No text, just looks. I don't know what Isayama wanted to show here, but I feel like Levi see Mikasa's distress and is surprised and confused? I would really like to know what Levi is thinking at that moment. Because right before the frame on Levi's eyes, there is Mikasa's face from his perspective. So I think I'm being reasonable in saying that it's more Mikasa's expression and tears than the fact that she draws her sword that surprises him. I think it might be because he is surprised that Mikasa cared about someone else than Eren to the point of drawing her blade?

⬇ And it's during one of their interactions that we learn a little more about each other :

So I find that this mix adds a certain personal dimension and intimacy to their interactions.

Their dynamic.

He is Humanity's Strongest Soldier. She is the Woman Who Worth Hundred Soldiers. So if they team up, we have the right to have high expectations. And they don't disappoint. They have a confidence in each other's abilities that allows them to fight on their own without having to worry about the other, but ready to intervene for the other if necessary. Even though it wasn't shown much, they can really ally themselves and synchronize like in the uprising arc and especially at the very end, against Eren. Alone, they are strong. Together, they look unstoppable.

I liked when Mikasa was kind of Levi's right-hand soldier. I think it suits her, I would have liked to see her more in this role. It would have allowed her to learn the importance of responsibility, to put forward other of her qualities than her fighting skills. Mikasa is smart, works well and I think she knows how to anticipate the needs of others. And not being afraid of Levi, she could have told him when he was too harsh but at the same time "defend" him to her comrades because she is the one more able to understand and accept the drastic orders that Levi can give. A conciliatory role to improve understanding and cohesion between Levi and his squad. We saw all of this in the uprising arc, admittedly rather superficially, but I really enjoyed it.

I also find that Levi and Mikasa have a bit of a "Mentor and Protégée" dynamic. I always thought that Levi was trying to pass on/teach something to Mikasa. In the forest of giant trees, he tells her to not lose sight of their objective, unless satisfying her own desires overrides that. Later, he tells her to control her emotions for not mess up again. In the Uprising Arc (manga), he orders her to kill the enemies when she can, it may be an order but it’s mostly a survival advice, I think. In Season 3 part 1, he tells her that humans will also be their enemies and asks her to pass on the message to her comrades, he warns her and her friends by saying this. He asks her to calm down a few times and explains quickly why rushing is not the right thing to do.

But beyond the dynamics of "Superior and subordinate" and "Mentor and Protégée" which are professional. Levi and Mikasa also have in my eyes a certain dynamic on a more personal level : Levi see Mikasa for what she is not more not less. Although he is aware of her abilities, he doesn't mystify or belittle her. Besides, Mikasa seems more natural and herself with Levi than with the others. She has no filter, she isn't afraid to say and do what she really thinks. I find that she has a freedom with him that she doesn't have with anyone else.

As for Levi, he is still himself, Mikasa or not. However I find that he picks up in his rough way of talking when she is around surely because she tends to react. He takes his time more when he speaks to her as if he is uncertain and hesitant when usually he is very direct. To be honest, I don't know if it's because there's something about Mikasa that really makes him unsure or if it's because he knows that she's reluctant towards him and if he doesn't tone down his harshness the message won't get through as well as with the others.

There has always been an honesty between them that makes their dynamic natural, balanced and doesn't feel forced. We go from a somewhat reluctant association (on Mikasa's side) to a functional team. Obviously, it's not always perfect, but it only makes their dynamic more realistic. They don't always agree, but they talk about it, argue, try to make the other see their point of view. They are honest with each other, not afraid to tell the truth to each other and this is a good thing for me.

Rivamika is also a ship that is eligible for the romantic dynamic of "the man who looks at the girl from afar, not letting his feelings get in the way of her happiness and the girl who is in denial and not wanting to acknowledge her feelings for X reasons (bad love history, blind love for someone else)". For example, I have in mind this scene from "No string attached" for the dynamic I'm talking about (starting at 50 seconds for what I want to explain) :

It's not for the dialogue or for the characters' personality that I give this scene as an example, although "I don't need you to take care of me. I take care of myself. That's what I do." fits pretty well for a line from Mikasa to Levi (and I will pay good money to see and hear Levi tell Mikasa that she fights like a hamster!) However, it's more about the idea of the confident guy and the girl in denial… The way the girl's first instinct is to lash out at the guy and, him, just stays chill, ironic, cynical... Familiar, isn't it?

They could be beneficial to each other.

Maybe that's why I shipped them together in the first place. I really think they could have been beneficial to each other.

Levi has suffered a lot. I feel sorry for him when I started to like him so I wished he had someone to really care for him. And Mikasa takes care of others, sometimes in a rough way but she also knows how to show an incredible sweetness. And it's some of that sweetness that I want for Levi.

There is also the fact that I think Levi feels apart and I believe that Mikasa can really understand him because they share certain personality traits, have certain events in their past that are similar. Levi could find an understanding and compassion from Mikasa that he cannot find from anyone else.

Mikasa seems a bit lonely too. Not like Levi seem to be, I have the impression that she's sometimes put aside by the others without them doing it intentionally and she tend to self-effacing too. But Levi, when she speaks, he listens and don't interrupt her... I think that he could give her the right attention and respect she needs to be more confident. (Yes, for me Mikasa lacks confidence in herself, that's the reason why she believes so easily Eren when he says he hates her, it's not a lack of trust in Eren but in herself.)

And as they remain two individuals, with two different personalities despite some common points, they sometimes have disagreements as we have already seen in the manga. But this is not necessarily a bad thing. It allow them to question themselves and to evolve individually in a positive way.

Rivamika is bold.

Rivamika or any other ship than Eremika would have been more audacious, "artistically" speaking. Main characters who love each other romantically? Super original, we never saw that… I've always hoped Isayama would go beyond the standard in this matter (He did it a bit by killing Eren before he could be with Mikasa, I admit.). I was hoping he wouldn't make a romance between Eren and Mikasa, because I wanted something different and original, to show other kind of love than the romantic one. To show that people can be very important without it being romantic, it would have been more and really interesting... too bad.

But at the same time and to be honest, I like AOT as it is, I accept Eremika and understand what it brings to the story. I didn't read the manga for the romance but for the universe, the suspense, the survival story, the characters…etc. But I also see Isayama's work as an incredible support for the imagination, a nice base, good characters with which we can invent, build or deepen the relationships between them.

I am aware that Rivamika is also controversial. This is also why I say Rivamika is bold. It's a ship that has negative labels so it should be handled with caution. But there is nothing that is really an obstacle, if you think about it a little, nothing that can't be swept away with logic, facts and an open mind, but above all a distance to have when it comes to fictional characters in a fictional story, in a world that is not ours and in a time apparently prior to ours. (I won't debate it here because it's not the subject and I will only make an already long post heavier. If you are interested in my opinion, ask and I will try to make a post dedicated to this subject.)

Rivamika is the ship that inspires me the most to read or write about the development of a relationship. There is a real potential to exploit, a story to tell with twists and stakes.

They look good together.

Yes, I know it's a superficial reason, but I can't help but find that there's a certain flow that comes off of them when I see them together. It's a matter of taste.

Here are some examples to illustrate what I mean :

Manga :

Anime :

Official Art :

Fanart :

Fanart by PNR Phit chan

[zmwrites]

Happy STS!

What does your first draft look like? What kind of revisions do you do for a second, third etc? Do you drafts change a lot or a little between each?

Hi Kate!

In a perfect world, I would write a decently clean first draft, fix world and character mistakes in the second draft, fix pacing issues in a third draft, and then do line edits in the fourth and final draft.

However reality is not so kind.

Admittedly, I've only had three projects progress past the first draft stage: Indigo Wars book 1, Snapshots, and PerDeA. Remnants has a very clean first draft but I haven't started editing it because I am afraid of messing it up.

To note, I don't think I'm very good at second drafts and beyond. I know I'm not very good at editing. It's boring and repetitive and you have to read the same thing over and over again. It is the worst part of the writing process (for me)! Once I tell the story, I want it to be magically ready to be seen by the world.

But editing is unfortunately necessary. It's looked different for each project that's made it that far.

For PerDeA, my editing process was very basic as it was a short story. I just made things clearer and shorter. The first draft and the final draft were very similar.

Snapshots was, again, a very simple editing process. I didn't edit it much beyond basic comprehension. It was a very clean first draft and was only ever intended for Wattpad, so I wasn't very fussed about quality. I also had to change the names because it started out as an alternate universe project for Indigo Wars (which I will not elaborate on hahaha).

On the other hand, Indigo Wars has been a fucking nightmare. The first draft was a mess and didn't have an actual plot. The second draft was a complete overhaul with several HUGE changes to character dynamics and plot. It also introduced an entirely new second POV. Draft three solved several major problems including the repetition of plot points and some characterization problems. Draft four added more context to the second POV and fixed a few more character problems. Now I'm on draft five and I'm trying to make it shorter while not sacrificing any of the character/world building I've added in the past drafts.

For Indigo Wars book 1, it seems like with every new draft I fix one thing but create two new problems. Even now as I'm trying to get it short enough to query, there are things I'm not happy with. One of the main characters doesn't have enough of a personality AND I hate his name. Another main character, I think she comes off as immature and annoying to the point I'm not sure anyone will like her. But I've been working on it so long that I'm not sure if my perceptions are true or if I'm just sick of reading the same thing over and over and over again.

Sorry this has become so ramble-y! I am still searching for a method of editing that works for me. I hope that it'll become easier as I get more experience going beyond the first draft.

[oddcryptidwrites]

Knight of Dawn: Chapter 7 [Not Your Typical Fairytale]

TW: toxic/borderline abusive parent (Adele)

Pacing the narrow office, Piers recited their speech again and again, rewording it every time. They’d already rewritten it three times on paper and typed it up twice. The wording was slightly off, and after Grady and Adele got up their ass about not giving one at their Coronation, Piers wanted this one to be perfect. 

The books on the walls distracted them from their thoughts. They ran their fingers down the spines as they paced back and forth. Pausing, Piers randomly pulled an older looking book from a series, peeing at the faded gold lettering of the title.

Beauty and the Beast.

Very funny. It slid perfectly back into place as they continued browsing the rest of the series, all fairytales they knew by heart. Adele used to read them to Wesley, to Lake, to Piers every night when they were younger. She’d always start with them, the youngest, sitting on the floor beside their bed and reading until they fell asleep. She’d slip out of the room, and head to Lake’s room

After Wesley and Lake had died, she’d sit by their bed, reading until she fell asleep as well.

Their hip bumped against the desk chair, and Piers apathetically looked at the pile of proposals. Adele had left them there for them, waiting to be edited, proofread, and proposed to the Council, who’d just send it back to the start. They had to get the Council to approve at least a few. They had to establish their footing, had to establish the people could trust them to do something for the people.

The big rolling chair creaked as they plopped down, spinning in a circle and staring at the ceiling. Avoidance was their favorite tactic. If they ignored it long enough, everything would go away, right? 

A noise sounded just outside the study.

Piers jerked upright, spinning around in the chair to face the door. Nothing. It was just their imagination-

The knob jiggled from the outside, then someone knocked on the door once, then a pause, then twice again in quick succession.

Mom.

They hopped up from their chair, heading to the door and unlocking it. Adele hugged them as soon as they got the door open.

She still dolled herself up, with her perfect blonde ringlets and one of her old dresses, but her face seemed even more tired and worn than it had just the afternoon prior, which they hadn’t thought was possible.

“Marcie said you needed to stay in your room, in bed.” Piers chastised her and she dismissed them, with a wave of her hand.

“Please. Just because she told me I needed to be there doesn’t mean I’m actually going to stay there. I get bored. Besides, as I’ve told you before, I’m gonna wear my old dresses if I can fit into them again. Estrogen made me gain so much weight and it’s strange being able to fit into these again.”

Piers let her inside, and locked the door behind her. She used the wall to stabilize herself, dragging her fingers down the spines of the books like they had. As they sat down in their chair, she came up behind them, leaning heavily on the desk.

“Jilly-bean, I may not be the most physically sound, but I can still think. Is there anything I can help you with?” Adele nodded towards the stack of proposals, as they pulled one off the top, busying themself with it because they were tired of going over what they were going to say.

“I’m good, mom.” They brushed her off, and she sighed.

“I started most of these. I can help revise what you’ve added.” She tapped the proposal they were working on with a perfectly manicured red nail. Her gray eyes scanned the paper, then she silently pointed to a sentence. They read over it, realizing it was phrased wrong, and scribbled it out with a huff. It was relieving that she was still mentally sharp, but also annoying as hell.

“I can do this myself.”

“You need my help, apparently.” She pointed to another error.

“You’re not Queen anymore. This is my job. Step back, and don’t read over my shoulder.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you do your job.” Finally, Adele backed up. Taking a seat in a plush chair in a recessed portion of the wall, she hummed to herself, running her fingers over the red velvet of the seat. Piers knew she wasn’t trying to bother them on purpose, but they were trying to separate themself from her reign, and her hovering over their shoulder was not the way to do that.

“Did you write up what you're going to say-”

“Yes. It’s on my lens and saved and ready.”

“Good. Are you excited to meet everyone? There’s a lot of notable people here, probably more than you’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah. There’s a lot of people.”  Piers ignored her, beginning to rewrite what she’d pointed out. They now wanted to finish this before Grady came to get them.

“Rene is coming, no? I didn’t check if he was or not before I lost access to my files. My lens got logged out and I haven’t bothered to log it back in. He hasn’t been here in years.” Adele asked, and Piers paused.

“President Dubois? Did you know him?”

“Vaguely. Marcie’s little brother is his secretary. I think I’m going back to bed.” She was hiding something.

Her face contorted into a grimace, as she shakily stood, leaning on the arm of her chair. Piers leapt to their feet, rushing to make sure she didn’t fall. 

“Is that all?” They pushed further, and she snapped at them.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Mom, it’s imp-”

Without warning, Adele grabbed their ear, pinching it between her sharp nails, dragging them down to look her in the eyes. Steely gray met venomous green. The scent of her sickly sweet perfume overwhelmed them, and they choked a little.

“What did I say?”

Piers remained silent, causing her to pinch harder. Neither of them wanted to give.

“Tell me!” She demanded.

They finally relented, “You don’t want to talk about it…”

Finally, her grip released, and they jerked away, backing up to the desk. Sitting in their chair, they rubbed their ear, turning their back to her and trying not to get upset. She came up behind them, spinning their chair just a little bit, and leaving a kiss on their right cheek, the unscarred one.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to lose my temper.”

She waited for them to respond, realized they wouldn’t talk, and left without another word. The door clicked shut behind her.

Piers was left recoiling, resting their head in their palms and taking deep breaths to clear their nose of the smell of her apple perfume. It left them sick to their stomach. Adele had something to hide about President Dubois, and they really didn’t want to try and weasel it out of her again. The only move they had left was to talk to the President himself.

Someone knocked on the door again, three short raps, evenly spaced.

“I’m coming…” They closed everything for the day, setting the proposal back in the stack, before grabbing their half-mask off the desk along with a small folder of backup information, in case their lens decided to die. Grady stood just outside the door. She took one look at them, and her expression changed to worry.

“What’s up?”

Piers sighed, pulling the gold and navy mask on, and fluffing their hair to hide the string, “Mom’s…acting weird again. She came by. Is everyone else here?”

“Yeah…hold on you have lipstick on your cheek” Grady reached up, rubbing a spot on their cheek with her thumb. Rolling their eyes, they swatted her hand away. She reached up, as if to fix their hair yet again, but didn’t. “Are you gonna be okay, Piers? I’m here for you, and I’ll be in the room with you.”

“I’m gonna force myself to be.”

The duo headed down to the Great Forrest room, where they found Piers was the last person needed to start the meeting. Everyone else sat around the table, laughing, eating refreshments from the kitchen, and catching up, waiting on them. Awkwardly, and with everyone’s eyes now on them, Piers walked around to the head of the table. They took the last seat between Councilors Johnson and Miles. The massive rolling chair, similar to the one in the study, sunk down as they sat. Councilor Miles glared at them, hiding it behind a pleasant smile.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Your Majesty.”

Piers brushed off the obvious venom in her voice. It would be better for their mental health to avoid talking to her as much as possible. She’d just make their life difficult, just to make it difficult. Clearing their throat, Piers stood, knocking into the table as they sat the slim folder down.

“Welcome. As is customary with the rise of a new political leader in this era, I’ve called this Conference of leaders from within Georgia and the Southeast in order to share my future plans and goals for this nation, and to begin formal diplomatic talks. I’ll go over what I perceive to be the most pertinent issues first, but I am open to questions. Afterwards, I’ll leave the table open to anyone else who’d like to speak or ask about issues I haven’t touched on.”

Subtly, Piers pulled up their list and chart, beginning to speak in vague enough terms so they wouldn’t offend everyone. Every so often, someone would interrupt them with a question, most often the Councilors of the Zones. They’d use the information they’d gathered from their research to appease whichever Councilor as best as they could. No one could genuinely hate them this early on in their reign, or they were doomed. After finishing their plans for revitalizing the Crashing District in ATLZoS, Piers pulled at their shirt collar and readjusted their jacket. They paused for a moment, grabbing their cup of water off the table and finishing the glass. Surely it’d been four or five hours since they began…

It had been two.

Setting their glass down, they stuttered a little, “I’m sure y’all are all ready to take a quick break. We’ll reconvene in ten minutes.”

The silent tension in the room broke, as various leaders got up to get more refreshments from the tables around the edges of the room, talking amongst themselves. Piers took a seat and twisted in their chair, popping their spine, then popped their knuckles as well. They looked to Grady, who sat in a chair against the wall, talking to a man with bright ginger hair and a blonde woman. She seemed busy.

“You’ve done your research, your Majesty.”

Piers spun around.

There stood President Dubois, smiling. They stumbled to their feet, almost running into him as they stood.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. President.”

“Likewise, Monarch Hall. You’re well read on everyone’s political stances, and the way you angled your answers was impressive. You know so much about everyone.”

The two shook hands and Piers made a quick note of everything about his appearance, from his face to his hair to the clothing he wore. For some reason, the strangest thing about him was the fact his gloves were black like theirs, with white stitching. Other than that, he looked the exact same as all the stuff they’d seen about him. Stern, but kind face, dark wavy hair, slate gray suit, white shirt, black shoes, green tie. He was well put together as a leader should be, and held himself with confidence. Nothing stood out about him, but because of that, something seemed off. Almost as if he was trying too hard to seem normal, like he had something to hide. The two began to talk, but whenever Piers poked a little further than just diplomatic, he managed to brush it off. He never answered more than asked. President Dubois had a defensive shell for sure, and Piers was determined to shatter it then and there. Something wasn’t right about this man.

“Piers, Rene, are you ready to continue?” 

It was Captain Johnson who tapped their shoulder, having come in to talk with his brother. Piers glanced at the time.

“Shit, yeah, it’s been fifteen minutes.” As they spoke, President Dubois gave the Johnson brothers a nod, and began to step away, but they raised their voice just a little bit, “Mr. President?”

When he turned back to look at them, they caught a glimpse of a familiar yet unplaceable expression, before he masked again. “Yes?”

“Can we meet after dinner? I’d like to talk with you about the political sphere of the southeast, and I’d appreciate having you as a potential ally. You seem very knowledgeable and I would like your guidance.”

His smile grew a little wider, “Certainly, Jillian.”

Piers froze as he returned to his seat, quickly falling into a heated conversation with one of South Carolina’s representatives. The familiarity with which he said their name, it bothered them. The way he called them Jillian. Adele called them Jillian, and that was it. The rest of the Palace always called them Piers, since before they could remember. They were forced to shake it off for the time being, reconvening the meeting. The room fell back into its previous quiet, tense state, all eyes on them.

NYTF WIP Intro

Tag List (reply or dm to be added or removed; I pulled from the old tag list + the call post): @author-a-holmes, @soul-write @flowerprose @ceph-the-ghost-writer @theglitchywriterboi @when-wax-wings-melt @thechaoticflowergarden @lyralit @penspiration-writing @samatedeansbroccoli @charlesjosephwrites @italiangothicwriteblr @thetruearchmagos @pineapple-lover-boy @unilightwrites @sanguine-arena @bardic-tales @joshuaorrizonte @blind-the-winds @circa-specturgia @hymnonlips @aloeverawrites @the-stray-storyteller @writeblrsupport @starlit-skys @kyuponstories @guessillcallitart @magic-is-something-we-create @talesofsorrowandofruin @writingonmymind @imslowlydisintegrating @worldsfromhoney

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Happy STS! I'm curious about Shattered Dreams, since I still don't know too much about it and you say it's your first major piece of writing! How would you say it differs from Hidden Depths, and how is it similar? Is there anything you learned in the course of writing and posting Hidden Depths that's informing the other WIP as you now revise/edit/continue writing? Anything you're enjoying more, or enjoying less? Anything else interesting you can tell us?

Happy STS! Thank you for the ask, Claire!

Oooh, what a fun question! First off, I'm not sure if you've seen my WIP intro, but if not, there it is :)

Okay, this is long, so under the cut it goes lol

Differences and Similarities

So Hidden Depths is set in the same world of Shattered Dreams, approximately 5-ish years prior to the events in the novel. I use the same third person, character-centric style of writing, I've centered my story around two characters, which seems to be a sweet spot for me, and it's still essentially a love story at its core. They are both captivity stories that deal heavily with trauma and recovery from trauma.

Shattered Dreams differs in that I had the time and space for a lot more worldbuilding and complex plotting than I did in Hidden Depths. Now, did I do it well? Meh, going through on this editing pass, I'm noticing more info-dumping than I'd like, so I'm cleaning that up.

Hidden Depths I didn't have that kind of time for. Maybe if I'd started writing more than 3 days before the start of the event, but uh. I didn't. So I started in media res, which I actually ended up liking quite a bit, and I learned a new writing technique!

It also differs in that with Shattered Dreams, I was trying to write the kind of love story I wished I was capable of and where physical affection was important and sought after (I literally made physical touch a basic need for an entire species-they can't go too long without or they'll go crazy lol).

Whereas with Hidden Depths, I wrote the kind of love story more true to my recently discovered aroace-self. It's still an idealization, of course, with an over exaggeration of certain characteristics, but it's been really nice and somewhat cathartic to write.

Learning

Ahh, the learning. Well, the more you write, the better you get, right? So there was that. I could tell writing Hidden Depths that I'd improved beyond what I'd written in Shattered Dreams, which was a really cool thing for me. It made me feel really proud. (and kinda embarrassed when I reread Shattered Dreams bc I'd sent it out for beta 😅)

I definitely learned a lot more about whump writing, and you can bet that I'm using that in my edits to flesh out scenes that were rather vague (or create new ones all together!) bc I was either afraid of the response or just didn't have the depth of knowledge to really do it justice.

I learned that just because I can write explicit sexy time scenes doesn't mean I have to :D especially if they already made me uncomfy to start. Basically I toned them down, because I didn't hold anything back the first go around lol. Maybe they can be bonus scenes so all my hard work doesn't go to waste XD

Just by being here on tumblr, I've learned a lot more about queer and disabled representation, which is not something that I had a lot of exposure to before. I am definitely going to implementing some of that knowledge in Shattered Dreams if I can!

Interesting stuff

Ummm. This has gotten pretty long already lol. Let's see... Alaia and Serin, the two main protagonists, were never meant to be together; he was just a side character I made bc captivity with one character is boring as hell. Well, that went to shit, he ended up as a POV character, and now has an entire character arc I have to write lol. The way these things happen, huh lol.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

"Dear Charles,

A man named Inkstead* took some pictures of me for Harper’s Bazaar a while ago (I never found out quite why) and one of me holding my secretary in my lap came out very well indeed. When I get the dozen I have ordered I’ll send you one. The secretary, I should perhaps add, is a black Persian cat, 14 years old, and I call her that because she has been around me ever since I began to write, usually sitting on the paper I wanted to use or the copy I wanted to revise, sometimes leaning up against the typewriter and sometimes just quietly gazing out of the window from a corner of the desk, as much as if to say, “The stuff you are doing is a waste of my time, bud.” Her name is Taki (it was originally Take, but we got tired of explaining that this was a Japanese word meaning bamboo and should be pronounced in two syllables), and she has a memory like no elephant ever tried to have. She is usually politely remote, but once in a while will get an argumentative spell and talk back for ten minutes at a time. I wish I knew what she is trying to say then, but I suspect it all adds up to a very sarcastic version of “You can do better.” I’ve been a cat lover all my life (I have nothing against dogs except that they need such a lot of entertaining) and have never quite been able to understand them. Taki is a completely poised animal and always knows who likes cats, never goes near anybody that doesn’t, always walks straight up to anyone, however lately arrived and completely unknown to her, who really does. She doesn’t spend a great deal of time with them, however, just takes a moderate amount of petting and strolls off. She has another curious trick (which may or may not be rare) of never killing anything. She has brought into the house at various times such things as a dove, a blue parakeet, and a large butterfly. The butterfly and the parakeet were entirely unharmed and carried on just as though nothing had happened. The dove gave her a little trouble, apparently not wanting to be carried around, and had a small spot of blood on its breast. But we took it to a bird man and it was all right very soon. Just a bit humiliated. Mice bore her, but she catches them if they insist and then I have to kill them. She has a sort of tired interest in gophers, and will watch a gopher hole with some attention, but gophers bite and after all who the hell wants a gopher anyway? So she just pretends she might catch one, if she felt like it.

She goes with us wherever we go journeying, remembers all the places she has been to before and is usually quite at home anywhere. One or two places have got her – I don’t know why. She just wouldn’t settle down in them. After a while we know enough to take the hint. Chances are there was an axe murderer there once and we’re much better off somewhere else. The guy might come back. Sometimes she looks at me with a rather peculiar expression (she is the only cat I know who will look you straight straight** in the eye) and I have a suspicion that she is keeping a diary, because the expression seems to be saying: “Brother, you think you’re pretty good most of the time, don’t you? I wonder how you’d feel if I decided to publish some of the stuff I’ve been putting down at odd moments.” At certain times she has a trick of holding one paw up loosely and looking at it in a speculative manner. My wife thinks she is suggesting we get her a wrist watch; she doesn’t need it for any practical reason – she can tell the time better than I can – but after all you gotta have some jewelry.

I don’t know why I’m writing all this. It must be I couldn't think of anything else, or – this is where it gets creepy – am I really writing it at all? Could it be that – no, it must be me. Say it’s me. I’m scared.

- Ray

*Actually John Engstead."

- Selected Letters of Raymond Chandler edited by Frank MacShane, pg. 49-51

**I don’t know if the repetition was intentional on Chandler’s part, an error in the letter, or an error in the book, so I left it as is.

[suzyq31]

how do you write so fast? Do you have a schedule and any tips on how to set a writing schedule?

My speed with posting is deceiving as I usually have a lot written before I post. At least with my story Maybe Tomorrow (which I completed first) and Found which I'm currently writing Chapter 17.

A few things that help me write fast are sprints or timers. Where I don't worry about how good it is, I just get words down. Doing this I've sometimes managed to get down anywhere from 1k-5k (although always be kind to your wrists and take breaks!) in a sitting.

For me a lot of magic is in the editing/revising which I do a lot of, which can slow me down, or be more time consuming, but it's how I seem to operate.

I don't have a set writing schedule. At one point I was writing every day but that was getting too consuming for me so I've stepped back so that I can also focus on other hobbies.

Although I do try to make time a few days a week to sprint and will often jot down some stuff on my lunch break. I also edit from my phone when I'm bored or have some spare time. I will say having ADHD makes my drive come and go a lot. I often get hyperfixated on a story and write a TON, then it slows down and I have to do the hard work of finishing it up once the dopamine wears off. It's also why I usually have a couple projects on the go at a time.

I wish I had more concrete advice! Just remember there's no right or wrong way to do it. But you also won't write if you don't at least get yourself to sit and open the document. I'll link the Pomedoro timer here.

Also check out @theplottery they have tons of great advice!

[elphabaoftheopera]

Tagged by @raven-curls​ and @vinkunwildflowerqueen​ thank you!

This inspired me to finally re-shelve the books strewn all about my place (and dust my bookshelf). So thank you for that.

From last place to first:

#10. Time Travel Short Stories foreword by David Wittenberg: “It may surprise readers to know that the sorts of spectacular time travel plots one typically encounters in contemporary science fiction, full of multiplied time lines, paradoxes, revisions of history and butterfly effects, are a late innovation of the genre.”

Pretty dry writing even for a foreword, and I was not surprised by the fact. Next!

#9. The Norton Shakespeare Anthology: (from the preface) “Since Shakespeare’s principal medium, the drama, was thoroughly collaborative, it seems appropriate that this edition of his works is itself the result of a sustained collaboration.”

There were like four collaborators for this anthology. I get what they’re going for here, but kind of boring. Bring on the Shakespeare!

#8. Star Wars I, Jedi by Michael A. Stackpole: “None of us liked waiting in ambush, primarily because we couldn’t be wholly certain we weren’t the ones being set up for a hot-vape.”

What is a hot-vape? When I googled it I just got “vape hot” which warned people that they were vaping too much if their vape was hot. Is it a Star Wars thing? Deducted points for confusion.

#7. Midnight Sun by Stephanie Meyer: “This was the time of day when I most wished I were able to sleep.” (I had to add the next few lines just to appreciate the brooding: “(cont.) High school Or was purgatory the right word?”)

I laughed when I pulled this one out. I borrowed it from my mother-in-law like over a year ago but couldn’t make it through the first chapter. I would give it higher points for the next two lines but judging just by the first line doesn’t make it a standout.

#6. The First Five Novels The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum: (from the intro) “In 1900, a moderately successful writer for children by the name of L. Frank Baum set out to write a new type of “wonder tale” in which (in his words) “the stereotyped genie, dwarf and fairy are eliminated, together with all the horrible and bloodcurdling incident devised by their authors to point a fearsome moral to each tale.”

L. Frank Baum is obviously a fave, it was cool to learn a more about him in this long ass sentence. I laughed at the irony of “moderately successful writer”. Still, it’s a foreword and forewords are bland.

#5. Play Directing In The School (A drama director’s survival guide) by David Grote: “Play directing can be an art, but like all real art, it is built on a solid foundation of craft.”

I haven’t read this book yet and I’m not a drama teacher but I do direct plays. It’s a sentiment I agree with. No more, no less. Still a foreword! I promise I do have novels too...

#4. 1912 Facts About Titanic by Lee W. Merideth: “On April 11, 1912, many of the more than 2,200 people aboard RMS Titanic watched the green hills of Ireland slowly disappear from view as the magnificent liner steamed west into a beautiful Atlantic sunset—and into history.”

Actually kind of pretty imagery for a non-fiction foreword. A topic that interests me. I feel like if this were an introductory paragraph/sentence in an essay the teacher would write “nice work!” off on the margin. 

#3. The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss: “It was night again.”

Simple. Concise. Informative. It was night again. I’m simply gripped! I have no idea what this book is about but this made me laugh out loud.

#2. Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic by Alison Bechdel: “Like many fathers, mine could occasionally be prevailed on for a spot of “airplane.”

Masterful, and I mean that unironically. Obviously Alison Bechdel is a fantastic writer, but this is a really great first sentence. It puts you right into the narrative and is creatively expositional. Makes me actually want to finally read the graphic novel in full. Obviously makes me think about the musical too which is a plus!

#1. Junie B. Jones Is Not a Crook by Barbara Park: “My name is Junie. B. Jones. The B stands for Beatric. Except I don’t like Beatrice. I just like B and that’s all.”

I didn’t even need to crack the cover to know what the first sentence would be. Yes, I cheated a little to get the full bit but even so I’d rank it first. This intro is iconic and just delights me every time I read or recite it. This sentence was literally the first sentence of a chapter book I ever read on my own (though I was reading Sneaky Peeky Spying), and for that Junie B. Jones will always “B” #1 in my heart.

I'm tagging @the-shark-is-a-mammal​, @character-shoes-and-misery, @amidalleia, @cultishsocialgathering, @lavalierre, @starspangledpumpkin, @itsniaeveryone, and @misosuper and anyone else who wants to participate!

[absolutesilly]

I love tgcf! But my biggest problem with it was that she introduced too many side characters (great potential btw but less developed overall because of how big the crew is) and not all of her arcs are interesting :/ ive seen a little snippets of peoples thoughts on the revised, but frankly it doesnt seem that interesting either.

this is a critique i’ve heard from a few different people, and i think it’s a valid one. i looooooooove tgcf and really enjoyed reading it, but i do think it suffers a bit from having too many ideas and too many characters. which is funny, because i clearly love the side characters! i think they’re all great and very interesting—mxtx’s character writing is probably my favorite thing she does! but there’s just so many of them, and some of their stories/relevance gets a bit muddled along the way. i think that perhaps some characters should have been cut or even gotten novels of their own!

as for arcs—there weren’t any arcs in tgcf that bored me, but there were definitely times when it felt more like a series of vignettes all set in the same universe, rather than a cohesive narrative.

funny enough, it was only when i started reading scum villain that i started to feel a bit more critical of tgcf’s writing! mostly just bc scum villain is SOOOOO tight and snappy, it’s amazing. no wasted space! everything felt necessary, and in particular, side characters felt exactly as fleshed out as they needed to be. i can’t speak on mdzs as i have not finished it yet—i watched and adored the untamed but i have heard their plots/characterization diverge quite a bit. i’m interested to see how i feel about the pacing and characters in that one, once i finish it!

in short: i love tgcf and think it is excellent—but i also think it needed some more editing! and that’s okay. many things do!

as for the revision: i can’t really speak on it fully, as i have not (and cannot) read it yet! there’s a lot of fuss that’s been stirred up on the hellscape that is twitter over secondhand accounts of what’s been changed, so i’ve been trying not to contribute to that craziness! from the small translated snippets i’ve seen, there have been some edits that i really liked! and also some that i didn’t! and quite a few that i’m totally ambivalent on. i’d really like to read the revised version in its entirety—if and when it gets translated—so i can give a fully informed opinion on it.