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haleruby · 4 years

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Slipping Through Your Fingers (2)

Characters/Pairings: established Mal/Evie, eventual Mal/Evie/Reader (Quim), Reader & the Rotten Four (especially Reader & Carlos once we get in the flashback).

This part is Rotten Four interaction, you with Malvie, and then briefly you with Carlos.

Summary: Evie’s idea to design a dress for the newcomer is met with differing reactions from her friends. The actual consultation ends in a way no one could anticipate least of all Carlos...Poor pup.

Word Count: 4.2k

Notes: I am using a sideblog that is empty and not tagging bc this is only for your eyes, so no need to reblog/like, etc.

I promise it gets smoother once I can use ‘Shadow’ as the placeholder for you (instead of brunette, other girl, guest, etc.) alongside the pov sections of the Rotten Four in the flashback. The writing is still older so…Let me know if it’s too much like sandpaper, lol. I have other fics.

There are some things in this chapter that hint at what is to come in the flashback section. They may raise some questions too.

- - - - -

"You're so gonna regret this," Jay states it matter of factly. Another beaker is added to the steadily growing tower of glass so it is about as tall as the graduated cylinder Evie keeps adding to. Dark brown eyes that are almost black flick away from his handiwork to observe the counter top for more improvised building blocks. "Like, let's be honest, it sounds kinky." "Jay," Carlos admonishes. "Dude, what? It does sound weird." A test tube is moved out of reach from a tan hand, earning said hand ruffling bleached blond curls with black roots in retaliation for the interception. "Ugh, stop it," Carlos complains without any real bite. The test tube is handed to Evie, before Carlos turns his attention to his boyfriend. "We can't judge a situation we don't know anything about; it would not be fair. Evie said she seems sad." "I didn't say it wasn't bad," he corrects. A momentary seriousness displaces the ever-present, easy grin that was used to charm marks to make stealing easier and can serve as armor that hides his real feelings. "But how is she going to help? It sounds like they have a deal. Maybe the money, status, or protection makes it worth being his, so why mess it up?" Adding highly concentrated acid to the concoction she is brewing takes a steady hand to not over or under administer it. The boys' back and forth is starting to distract Evie. "He calls her pet-" "Kinky..." "-and treats her like property." The murmured comment is ignored, though a warning look is directed at the broad shouldered guy, who would cut an imposing figure to most, but now Jay raises his hands up in surrender. "I don't know why--I had to do something, it just didn't feel right..." "A lot of things aren't right." The firm statement cuts through the room as the fourth member of their group enters in through the double doors. Purple hair and mostly violet and green attire stands out against the white, gray, or stainless surfaces of the chemistry lab and compliments pale skin. Her stride is self-assured and commanding, even if she is the shortest of them, because knowing how to force others to fall in line due to her mere presence is something she honed on the Isle. Calculating green eyes cursorily assess the slight tension among them, before settling on Evie in question. "What did you get yourself into, E?" Mal asks with authority, though those close to her would be able to detect the concern there too. "M," she greets her with a smile to buy a bit of time. Talking this over with the more empathic Carlos was the plan, but Jay tagged along and now Mal is also present. Normally, she would not mind some alone time with their unspoken leader, who also happens to be her girlfriend, but not when she is scheming and plotting mode to fix something that has not even been explained yet. "I decided to make something for someone in exchange for information about Auradon royalty. I really just wanted to talk to the girl because-" How does she say this...? Evie keeps speaking, taking a quick breath. "I don't know how to explain it. This man--Sir Alistair is so creepy and I can't imagine having to listen to him all the time. His commands and whatever else he orders her to do. He interrupted my meeting with Ben, and then was about to leave but I didn't get to actually talk with the girl, so I offered to make something. He turned it into me making a dress for her instead, which is what I technically wanted..." Evie trails off, finishing the ramble. She is unsure if that explained enough or anything at all, still working through her own thoughts hampered her ability to convey them to others. "So, it's a pity dress?" Mal deduces. "No," Evie disagrees immediately.

A fine eyebrow raises at the steel underlying that tone, not expecting it. Evie seems more worked up about this than she would expect given how the acid is now hurriedly being put away, rather than being measured with the usual engrossed focus given to her projects. It is worrying. "As tragic as that sounds, you are already an advisor to Ben about the Isle, so why help?" Mal wonders. "You are busy with that, classes, your designs. I don't want you pushing yourself..." "She knows about arrangements and alliances." This bit of information secures everyone's interest. They were brought together through an alliance, an admittedly unconventional one, but friendship is not a common word thrown around on the Isle, let alone a common concept. Sliding her safety glasses up and off of her head, Evie fixes her girlfriend with a meaningful look that silently requests that Mal listens rather than immediately dissuade out of concern. "When she first saw me she looked afraid-" A blue painted finger nail levels at Jay, who is about to make a wise crack from the set to his lips, "-not like how people looked at us on our first day or how some of the older royals still look at us. This was different. It was not a judgment thing, but almost as if she was ashamed and frightened at the same time, before she just went blank-" A quick snap of her fingers emphasizes this, "-like that. It was different, and I need to know why..." Mal observes Evie carefully, but nothing is said. "I can tell you why. Because you are the daughter of-" Carlos nudges Jay to stop his words, nodding at the look on Evie's face that is edging on somber. "Do you think she is from the Isle?" "You saw how big a deal us coming over was." A welcome event, news coverage, and even a navy carpet was rolled out in an odd mix of tentative hope held by a few and the sensational aspect of it held by the majority. They were a spectacle and a main event. "I don't think so. Or at least I think we would have known if we were not the first VKs coming to the mainland," Evie offers her reasoning on the suggestion. "He could have bought her?" Jay hurries to explain when the two look at him questionably. He didn't mean it like that. "Not that that's right, obviously. But I imagine creating the barrier and stuff took a lot of coin, favors, and magic. If he is a 'Sir' or whatever, he could have had some pull." "I doubt the barrier would be lowered for someone to go window shopping for kids," she comments with a bit of disgust, because the suggestion reminds her of something that still aches after all this time. Special exceptions can always be made. Mal uncrosses her arms, settling on a lab stool on Evie's side of the counter so she is close to her. "You know they would only do it in an extreme circumstance. Anyway, if you want to talk to her that is fine. I will be with you too." "Mal, I-" "We don't know what she is capable of Auradonian or not, so I don't want you alone," she interjects firmly. Reaching for the hand that grips the edge of the laminate countertop softens the interruption; this does come from a place or care, even if she is not always the best at expressing it. "This is not Lonnie or Jane. We don't know this person, E." "Mal is right," Jay agrees. "Maybe we should also be there?" "No," Mal denies him. Jay pouts. "More people could make her uncomfortable..." Evie appreciates Carlos' support, considering Jay tag teamed with Mal as usual on tactics, since the two tend to agree on a more proactive, aggressive approach than the more moderate, measured ones of their other halves. Her focus turns to her girlfriend. "Just promise me you will play nice tonight-" A squeeze is given to their joined hands to preempt any quip or retort, "-since she is very, very quiet. If I have any hope of learning more, I need that shell to open, not close further." "I will be as sweet as cotton candy," Mal assures with some sarcasm, though there is sincerity in her expression. "You won't even notice I'm there."

- - - -

Most would probably hardly notice she is there... There should be the sounds of two sets of steps mounting the stairs to climb up to the level that holds the girl's dorm rooms, but only one distinctive clack is heard against the hardwood. Using her peripheral vision fails as does glancing to the side. The brunette remains just behind her almost in a blind spot, though Evie does not feel threatened. Slowing her steps was mirrored too. Jay would admire these skills that would speak to thievery or going about undetected on the Isle, but it seems like the goal is to go unnoticed--to take up as little space as possible--to disappear into the background, if not needed. It makes Evie feel sad... "-the grand fireplace can be used to roast marshmallows too, so it's great for s’mores," she continues speaking, though there has been no response aside from the initial stilted nod of greeting. Evie continues the abridged tour of the dormitory hall to fill in the quiet, but also to acknowledge her presence by addressing her without expecting anything in return. The long game will need to be played. "And here is my room, where all the design magic happens," she says it with a touch of drama. A golden key is pulled out and inserted into the lock after a single warning knock is given. Entering first occurs, she knows that waiting to let the brunette do so will lead to an impasse with them standing in the hallway all night. Evie spots Mal on her bed, sketchbook in hand, and phone off to the side. That is a relatively nonthreatening position. "This is my roommate." A hand gestures to the purple haired girl, who gives a lazy wave too intent on whatever she is shading to look up in a proper greeting. There is a difference between being rude and being inviting, but at least Mal tried... The brunette lingers on the threshold as if realizing once she crosses it the point of exit will be sealed completely. "Please come in and we can get started," Evie patiently requests. That gets her moving again, so the door can be shut, though the motion is short lived. (Y/E/C) eyes are trained on Mal so intently that the gaze can only be described as utterly piercing; there is nothing subdued or subtle about it. Her movements always seem rigid, but now it is like she is locking herself in place or holding herself back. Her arms are pulled behind her with one hand securing the wrist of the other just below the small of her back in a form of an at-ease military position that lacks any ease. Lips remain set in that horizontal line that does not convey much of anything, but something that may be confusion causes a slight crinkle to form between her brows. If only she was a little closer, Evie could attempt to parse out her expression better. Evie realizes she is staring at the brunette staring at Mal, but makes no effort to stop it. This is the opposite of their first interaction; it's like she is transfixed, rather than trying to retreat inwards. "Didn't your parents teach you about staring?" The quip is delivered without Mal even glancing up, but when she does everything shifts.

It would be similar to violent magnetic repulsion as soon as green eyes deviate from the sketchbook, (Y/E/C) instantaneously flick away to study the floor. Evie can see the tension she would like to think she somewhat alleviated snap back as the brunette's neck bows ever so slightly, trying to fully correct the previous direction of her gaze. The grip on her wrist also tightens up to what must be painful; it is like a full body, silent chastisement. Reaching out to prevent her from further retracting inwards crosses Evie's mind, but they are not that close... "Don't mind her personality. That is just Mal," she jokes to try and salvage the situation. Evie steps forward, past their two beds, and the small kitchenette and into her makeshift sewing area, hoping the brunette will trail behind her as usual and be away from Mal's scrutiny. "We will be over here anyways." A chair is pulled out, before she hovers, planning to assume her usual comfy seat at the drawing desk once the other is occupied. "You minded it enough to date me..." Mal snarks, though there is the start of a pout to her lips. "So, not the time..." Evie admonishes; this is not one of their friends or classmates, but more of a client, who she also wants to learn more about. Bantering with her girlfriend can occur later on. Unless maybe Mal is trying to ease things...? Somehow the brunette looks more uncomfortable now as she passes the bed without a spare glance at Mal, sitting in the chair, but not allowing her back to rest against the cushion. She sits ramrod straight like she is ready to stand up and leave as soon as possible. There was the slightest frown that is now gone with that neutrality back in full force. Making eye contact is near impossible for Evie to achieve when the pin cushion is being observed like it holds the secrets to the universe. Is she homophobic or just dislikes the topic...? "I thought your girlfriend would always be an important part of your time?" Mal presses. Now, Mal is just being difficult on purpose, likely because the discomfort from their guest was also picked up on. "M," she warns. "What?" The question is asked with affected innocence. Closing the sketchbook with a snap, Mal throws her legs over the bed, almost rising to join them, but remains on the edge of the mattress at the disapproval from Evie. The way she was looked at earlier bothers her. The intensity felt familiar; it was like she was back on the Isle: young, on edge, and simpering with the need to prove herself to her mother, but that there was something bigger and greater watching over her until she could get that far. The intensity didn't make her feel small, but seen too deeply. Mal failed to grasp why that was since the other girl folded rather than entertain a proper stare off. Her magic roils under her skin as if her veins funnel viscous magma throughout her system, not lifeblood; this feeling usually signals the need for her eyes to switch to a verdant emerald. She does not feel threatened, just that something is wrong, which makes her want to push to figure out why. "I bet she agrees with what I said. How about this: if you agree, don't say anything at all and if you don't agree, say something?" Mal goads, trying to force a reaction besides the stiff quiet. ... No reply is given. "See?" The triumph of being right seems bitter, because she did not want to be right, Mal wanted answers. Evie is moving past annoyance to disappointment in how her girlfriend is behaving, but it goes beyond what she suspected the reason was for the comments. She can feel a faint charge to the air that translates into a unique warmth skating across her skin that most would not notice; however, she knows it is a sign that Mal's magic is becoming more active from their time together, but why is that? A questioning look of concern goes ignored. Green eyes are now assessing the brunette just as searchingly, though the view is only of her profile since the pin cushion is still the sole object of focus. What is going on?

"Can we reschedule, please, Evie?" The tone of voice used is soft and gentle, it is only meant for the one across from her to hear. A folded piece of paper is slid across the surface of the desk, coming to a stop just before the blue haired girl, who still seems to be processing she is being spoken to. "My measurements have not changed, nor the typical expectations he has for a dress," she explains efficiently. "You don't have any preferences or ideas...?" Evie asks reflexively, surprised she is being addressed. "At all?" "No." A wry, sad smile gives the barest of curves to those lips for a second, and Evie feels something within her fracture just a bit. That was a stupid question. Scrambling to recover—to adapt—to say something that will get her to stay longer yields nothing, except a hand covers the one that rests on the paper. She does not know what to do or how to help just that she needs to. The skin beneath her palm is cold, bordering on an unnatural chill that is not off-putting, but definitely unique, just like how Mal's hands tend to hold a warmth to them. Fingers flatten themselves as if trying to become one with the surface of the desk; however, the brunette does not pull away, though she did tense up. "Fairest of them all or the sweetest?" The question is posed rhetorically with underlying sincerity. "But don't trouble yourself with this." She is actually talking, full sentences and clauses talking, to her after she has rambled and prattled on about the architecture, her classes, and favored design styles on the walk from the visitor's center to the dorm halls. This is what she wanted, though the message is not what she anticipated at all. Was she so transparent about wanting to help? "Why not?" Evie almost whispers back the question. . . . (Y/E/C) eyes actually seem to be taking her in this time, probing in a gentle yet intense way. This is unlike people admiring or judging her beauty, instead it is much deeper as if something lost now has the possibility of being found. It feels as if she is being assessed to decide if more can be said--if she deserves trust--if it is safe. That dark emotion lurks again, but it is overshadowed by conflict that soon eclipses everything else, leading to the brunette sliding her gaze to the side. Feeling the fingers slip out from under her own causes a feeling of loss that gnaws after the perceived sense of progress. Evie very nearly tightens her grip to prevent it; however, choice is already a luxury, so she will not take her's now. "Goodnight, Evie." An end point. The goodbye was not delivered curtly or dismissively; there was a finality that seems to pin Evie to her chair as the other girl rises to leave. Mal looks between the two, feeling just as stricken about her leaving even though making sense of the low tones of the conversation was difficult. What the fuck? The emotions confuse her immensely. Arms cross tightly around herself in a firm hold as if trying to provide some structure to her thoughts that do not need to be burdened with these sudden, inexplicable feelings. "What is your name?" There is no reply, not even a glance, as her bed is passed, not that she really expected either after the jeer she made at the silence.

They both feel frozen for a moment. The door closing shut near soundlessly aside from the faintest of clicks snaps them out of it. "What was that?" "Yeah, what was-" A hand lashes out to the side to punctuate the question, "-that?" Evie stands abruptly. Her warm brown eyes that border on a golden hue seem darker with anger like a honeycomb that should be harvested, though there is a lack of sweetness. There is no excuse for what happened. "I asked you to be nice, because this is important to me, and instead you antagonize her? Knowing that her situation is probably horrible?" "I was trying. She started it...?" The words sound weak to her own ears, forcing her to stifle a sigh. "Evie, I didn't mean for it to escalate, but I just felt—I don't know-" Teeth sink into her bottom lip for a second, though self-editing around her girlfriend is rare compared to engaging in it around everyone else to keep her not to be trifled with reputation intact. "...Things? And reacted, ok?" Mal offers a hand tentatively, trying to show some contrition now that her magic has somewhat calmed.

Evie pauses, but relents and takes the offered hand. "I'm sorry..." - - - - -

"I'm so, so sorry!" A string of apologies leave him profusely. Playing keep away indoors and outdoors is something Fairy Godmother specifically told them not to. Jay took one of the sprockets he needs for something he is working on and challenged him to a game. He was barreling down a hallway barely in pursuit of the swift thief, but instead of taking the corner he slammed directly into someone. He usually has to use hints left by Jay or the sound of his laughs to find him anyway. He definitely lost the little chance he had at winning... Carlos is actually on top of the person as in half laying on them, since they caught him partially. This is awkward... He bowled them right over. He is lithe compared to Jay and shorter, but the momentum from sprinting through the long halls probably packed a wallop. Hurriedly sliding off of the--Wait, the person is a girl. Carlos creates more distance between them, before he actually looks more closely at the figure in black, who is sitting up slowly after having landed harshly on the marble floors. Dark brown hair is styled differently in a way that gives a better view of her face; it's sharper now and more defined. While his own frame was wiry from the shortage of food on the Isle, he knows that losing some baby fat in the face is common in teen years and happened to him too. She is still just as beautiful as he remembers. Her skin is a little paler than he recalls; maybe she does not go outside as much? There is faint purple blooming under her eyes that alludes to tiredness more so than eye shadow, but it would not be that noticeable from a distance. It's those eyes that seals it. Just like the ocean, there was always something anchoring in those depths when he looked into them. He knows Mal and Evie were closer to her, but he feels like he could stare into her eyes for ages because she always took care to look at him a certain way. He needed that care after some of the incidents that befell him on the Isle. It made him feel whole, not broken. Not a something, but someone who was worth having around. She rarely showed herself in this form, except when he needed her most. The uncanny ability to know when that was to offer comfort in the form of a soft gaze and innocent, gentle touches (a hug, a hand hold, steadying his hands with her own) soothed him when he was younger. He blinks, bringing his knuckles to his head to tap it. No, this is real, not a dream.

Now, it is like the sea is in flux during a violent storm. There is nothing grounding in the turbulent, almost tortured (Y/E/C) depths that are so unlike what he remembers, but at the same time are oddly nostalgic. She appears utterly conflicted, unsure what to do or where to look. What happened? It is as if seeing her is a grave offense, like Carlos wounded her from his mere presence. His stomach turns with a sickly feeling due to how he is being regarded, since his knee jerk reaction would be to give a hug and never let go again. They already lost her once. Shame suffuses her; it is an emotion he knows all too well from growing up with Cruella. Her gaze averts to floor; shoulders slump under a weight he can't comprehend; legs are drawn so her knees are just under her chin as if taking up less space will fix things. Arms wrap around her legs tightly to ward off attempts at prying; and finally her face is hidden in a last ditch, irrational effort to make it all go away. He feels his breath leave him at the sight, knowing this position is one he adopted frequently on the Isle.

It feels wrong to see his former silent protector like this now. "...Shadow?"

#for quim who is awesome and nice!#there is a reason why mal acted the way she does that goes beyond magic #i don't think there is a soulbond in this fic (there is in one of my others) but these /feelings/ and that /connection/ is there but out of-#-reach....not like de-ja-vu just yet but the sense that there is something more??? idk.#it will make (hopefully) more sense with more words/plot. lol.

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camsthisky · 8 years

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Writing Self-Evaluation for 2016

Writing Self-Evaluation for 2016 for @camsthisky (and my sideblog @lanceaboo)

Tagged by @seitosokusha about a month ago and I’ve been putting it off bc I know looking into last year will be a serious wake up call (I’ve written a total of 6 things since the new year and it should honestly be more)

1. Lists of works published this year:

Ricompensa [KHR]

In a moment like this [KHR]

War Torn (chs 15-23) [KHR]

An Older Brother’s Duty [One Piece]

It Takes a Blink [One Piece]

And on and on we go [One Piece]

Headphones [Voltron]

Run With Your Heart [Voltron]

Stop Telling Me Everything is Simple [Voltron]

The Point is to Understand [Voltron]

All That Matters [Voltron]

One Word Story Game [Voltron]

It’s Getting Darker But I’ll Carry On [Voltron]

Everything is Fine (Even When It’s Not) [TMNT]

Thanks For Trying [TMNT]

The Control Freak, the Narcissist, and the Liar [TMNT]

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Probably The Control Freak, the Narcissist, and the Liar. Last year (and going into this year) was a real challenge, and I feel like the Control Freak AU was reflective of how I was feeling. I also (successfully) tried out writing in present tense, and I absolutely love the way this story flows.

It’s Getting Darker But I’ll Carry On is a close second, though. I love the way the dynamics work between Lance and Keith in IGBICO, even though I’ve all but stopped writing for Voltron at this point (which sucks, but the fandom in general is killing my writing spirit).

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Thanks for Trying or An Older Brother’s Duty are both stories that I really wish I worked harder on. The fact is, I was writing both under pressure, and neither turned out the way I had envisioned. Both are stories I’m probably going to redo within the next few years. Not now, but it’s on my to do list.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

Here are two.

From The Control Freak, the Narcissist, and the Liar

The sobbing tapers off, and when Donnie looks down, Mikey’s gone still. He’s holding his breath, and Donnie’s not really sure what to make of it. As far as Donnie knows, this isn’t normal, and Donnie knows a lot.

“Mikey?” Donnie tries. “You with me?”

A shuddering nod is all Donnie gets in response, but it’s more than he was really expecting, especially with the glassy look Mikey’s got in his eyes.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No.” Mikey’s voice is raspy, and the sound of it makes Donnie wince with sympathy. He was probably going to be feeling that for a little while.

“Okay. That’s okay,” Donnie tells him. He holds Mikey a bit tighter. “You, uh, you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. Just- Just know that I’m here and not going anywhere.”

Mikey mutters something along the lines of “thank god” and turns his face into Donnie’s plastron. They stay like that for a long time, on the floor of Donnie’s lab, with a broken toaster sitting on his lab table waiting to be fixed.

The toaster can wait. Mikey can’t.

It’s Getting Darker But I’ll Carry On

The thing about guns were that they were loud; Lance had lucked out with his bayard. It wasn't nearly as loud as an actual sniper rifle would be, but it still made a noise that had Mullet Man wincing from where he was sitting next to him on the branch. Lance was glad they'd had time to come out here, otherwise they'd probably be hopelessly surrounded by now.

But now they could (probably) relax. Lance had blown off the zombie’s head, and that usually did the job of stopping the things from moving, so he let out his breath in a relieved huff.

“Alright, Mullet Man,” Lance laughed, shoulders actually relaxing now that the zombie couldn't get them. He turned to his companion. “Let's go find that brother of yours.”

Mullet Man raised an eyebrow. “Mullet Man?” he asked, face scrunching up in incredulity. “Seriously?”

Lance shrugged, an easy grin pulling at his lips. “Hey, I had to call you something.”

“Then call me Keith,” the guy said. “Not Mullet Man. Who are you?”

“The name’s Lance,” he said, holding out a hand, one that Keith took. “Zombie Slayer extraordinaire.”

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

Asghjhsj I always die whenever I get a comment from @maychorian, who I really look up to a s a writer, on any of my Voltron fics.

On War Torn, I’ve gotten a bunch of reviews that go something like “I just read through it ALL and I haven’t slept for like 48 hours bc I wanted to finish this so bad” and they always make my day (But even though I’m not one to talk, you guys should get more sleep). But my fav from War Torn has to be by KellyKatt19, who is just so sweet and amazing.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

I can’t remember how much I’ve shared on tumblr before, but some of my mutuals may remember the time I had to go to the emergency room, then bounce around from doctor to doctor when they couldn’t figure out how exactly to treat me, get surgery, and then spend a week and half at home recovering from an infection almost exactly a year ago (February of 2016). I was…not very cheerful, and all I did from two weeks was cry, and feel pretty sorry for myself. I could barely muster the energy to get out of bed. I looked and felt like death warmed over, and through the entire time, and for about two weeks after that, I didn’t touch a notebook, and I couldn’t bring myself to type anything. It was a disturbing feeling. No ideas were coming to my head, I was constantly frustrated with everything, I couldn’t update anything. It was a hard time. I managed to get myself out of my funk though.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

There were two things that I never thought I would do. One, write angst (and wow, I created an entire four chapters full of it so far, and it’s still going strong), and two, write Leonardo (from TMNT) in a bad light. But I did both of them in the same story.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

The one thing that I learned this year was that not everything I write is going to perfect. Also, after experimenting more with my writing style, I found one that I really, really like, so that’s a plus.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Hopefully I can develop my writing style a bit more. I’m also hoping to get a bit better at dialogue. I suck at normal people interactions, so that’s always been a weak point for me.

10. Who was your positive influence as a writer (could be another writer or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Oh boy. Okay, well I’ve met a lot of amazing people last year. A few mutuals - @seitosokusha, @stepichu, @mithril-lace (we’ve actually been mutuals for longer than a year, I think), @lancemcgayn, @lancemcclains. I’m really lucky that I had all these wonderful people to support me, especially in my writing. Hay and Mei were awesome when it came to my insecurities about posting, and Mithril, Seito, and Steph were always there when I needed a pick me up or some advice.

The other positive influence I’ve had as a writer is probably @taizi, Without Problem Child and all the TMNT and One Piece stories, I’d definitely be a different person than I am today. All of taizi’s stories (especially PC) have made me look at the world in a different light, and I can’t express my thankfulness enough that I follow taizi, even if we don’t know each other.

Also - @omggummybear. Thank you for everything.

11. Anything from real life show up in your writing this year:

I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder last October, so I probably projected at some point.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Writing is always, always developing. Even for experienced writers. Just because you don’t think that you’re improving, doesn’t mean you aren’t. Don’t get frustrated with yourself if you can’t see your improvement. It’ll show, you’ve just got to give it time (that was a lesson I learned the hard way).

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Oh geez. I hope I can finish War Torn this year. I’ve had the ending planned for two years and I’m finally getting close. Maybe by chapter 30. Maybe.

I have some batfam ideas I want to get started on.

Other than that, I have a One Piece modern AU and an alive!Ace story that are both in the works. I don’t want to publish what I have yet since I already have so many WIPs. Hopefully sometime soon, though.

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read: @mithril-lace, @omggummybear, @dickie-gayson (You know, only if you want to).

Man. This was more introspection than I needed. This was also really long. Thanks for reading :)

#things i was tagged in #tagged memes #writing self-evaluation #camryn rambles

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