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#bc i used to do my rough draft in one sweep
cyancherub · 2 years
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editing has got to be the most miserable part of writing 
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iamanartichoke · 3 years
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work in progress wednesday
Because why not. 
This scene definitely has to go through a few revisions, bc it’s not quite expressing what I’m trying to express, but enjoy this rough draft for now. 
Thor sits back, as if Loki’s words were an invisible force that tangibly knocks him back. He feels a little like the wind has been kicked out of him. “I threw it away?” he repeats, incredulously. 
“Yes.” Loki had been holding his mug aloft, near his mouth, but now he sets it down hard on the table, so hard that some of the pale liquid sloshes over the sides. “You gave up the throne and left Asgard behind.” 
“I left Asgard to Odin,” Thor snaps. His neck feels hot again, this time from anger instead of embarrassment. “And I thought you dead. How was I to know you’d usurp the throne in Odin’s guise after faking your own death?” 
“I didn’t fake it,” Loki shoots back, too loudly. The only other people in the mess hall – a few healers, sitting several tables away - glance over, but Thor barely notices. 
Loki does, however; he looks from the healers down to his own hands and takes a breath. “I didn’t fake it,” Loki repeats, more quietly. “And that’s beside the point.” 
“What’s the point, then, Loki?” Thor rubs his temples.
“The point is, it’s never stopped being easy for you. To come and go as you please, to sweep in and save the day at the eleventh hour, losing nothing. You’ve no idea what I’ve been through – what I’ve lost – since your banishment. Nor do you care.” 
Thor opens his mouth to protest, but Loki holds up a hand, cutting him off.
“You don’t, else you’d have not decided that this … interim in our relationship simply doesn’t matter. You only want me to be your brother again because you have literally no one else left.” 
Just as quickly as it had surfaced, Thor’s anger fades again, replaced with a dull shock that he feels down to his bones. He stares at his – at Loki, mind racing for something to say that would refute Loki’s words. 
“That isn’t true,” he finally manages. It’s weak and falls flat, even to his own ears. 
Loki snorts. “Of course it is. You could at least do me the decency of admitting it.” 
A muscle works in Thor’s jaw as he rubs his hands over his face, fingers skimming the rough edge of his eyepatch. “Okay.” When he speaks again, his voice comes out so softly that he has to clear his throat and try again. “Okay. Perhaps you’re right. I don’t have anyone else left. But neither do you.” 
Loki’s face looks a shade paler than normal as he narrows his eyes back at Thor. “The difference is, I’m used to it.”
- From my kinda untitled, supposed to be one-shot, random side fic I’m focusing on while my other shit is on hiatus. 
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serendipitous-magic · 4 years
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Hey just wanted to do my weekly reminder of how amazing you are and how great your work is :) more TUM soon pls bc I keep re reading it to the point that I could prob recite the entire fic thus far
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I like honestly needed this this week. I’m in the last 4 weeks of my Bachelor’s degree and this month has been like
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(I dunno why I have a Muppets theme going lol.) 
But! I swear I am working on writing too (liiiiittle bits at a time). I will be updating TRS3 by next Tuesday (one week from now), and I’ve been chipping away at TUM. In fact, how about a sneak peek of TUM chapter 14, since this ask was so incredibly sweet?
Sneak peek below read more line (rough draft, subject to change, blah-dee-blah.)
-_-_-_-
Will, head down, picks through some band aids. “Do you still… wanna do this?” 
“Patch each other up?”
Will shakes his head minutely. “This. Us.” 
Mike freezes with one hand inside the first aid kit. The hard plastic shell gapes at an odd angle, like a jaw about to snap down on his wrist. Will won’t look at him. “What are you talking about?”
Flipping slowly through bandaids of different sizes. Flesh-toned scraps that whisper between his fingers. “Well, look, that kind of stuff…” He points through the wall - a hard, distinct gesture, like he’s pointing to the exact spot where his head hit the pavement downtown. There’s still a smear of grime streaked beside his ear. “What happened there isn’t going to go away. That’s not the last time that’s gonna happen to us.” His body flexes, like he was about to stand up and then changed his mind, lapsing into silence. Mike watches him from the corner of the bed. Watches those oblong scraps flip past Will’s thumb like shuffling cards. “It happens to people all the time. But…”
“I don’t like where this is going.” 
“I’m just saying, you like girls too -” 
“Hey.” 
“No, just listen, listen. You like girls too, you have a choice. You don’t have to go through all that -” 
“Will, shut up.” 
“Don’t tell me to shut up. I’m trying - hey, listen! I’m trying to - I dunno. I’m just saying, I would totally understand if…” He shifts tracks and points again, dead serious, as Mike glares. “That kind of stuff isn’t gonna stop. Okay? It’s the way it is.” 
“No. Fuck that.” 
“It’s the way the world is -” 
“Not forever.” He says it with a tight jaw. He’s trying to convince Will, but he’s also trying to convince himself. He grasps at the first piece of hope he can think of. “Things are better now than fifty years ago, aren’t they?” 
A head tilt, a flattening of lips. “Okay, fine, but in fifty years we’ll be almost seventy. I’m talking about - about next year, next week, not -” Will pinches the bridge of his nose and then makes a brusque gesture, as if flicking away the tangent. “The point, Michael, is that that’s gonna happen again.” The tears swell up thickly in his voice - like a delayed reaction to everything  that’s happened tonight. 
Mike takes a breath to say something, his lips clicking as they part, and then he just sweeps aside the mess between them and scoots a foot closer. “I guess I better ask Nancy where she buys her pepper spray, then.” 
Will laughs, shakes his head, and lets his forehead thump onto Mike’s shoulder. 
“We’ll just be careful,” Mike says, and Will nods against him. He puts an arm around Will - the very thing that got them in trouble - and murmurs, “We’re careful. It’ll be okay.”
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