#sorry I know those other two excerpts are very popular on here but I couldn’t think of anything else when I read that line in Maurice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lululawrence · 5 years

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Annual Writing Self-Evaluation 2018

Hiiiiiii! So I was tagged by @sadaveniren, @hereforlou, and @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed who are SO VERY LOVELY! Thank you, darlings! I was wanting to do this anyway, and now I have double the excuse to do it. The two versions they had were slightly different, so I merged them. Hope no one minds. haha

Okay, so that said, as I’m sure most of you know I write more than I probably should, and because of that, this post got long very very very quickly. Ahem. So you’ll find the questions below the cut, thank you for even thinking of reading this!!

ALL FICS MUST HAVE POSTED ON AO3 IN 2018

1. Number of stories (including drabbles) posted to AO3: 25. oh! only 25! that’s great hahaha

2. Word count posted for the year: 313910. that’s 2k MORE than last year and my whole goal for this year was to write more quality rather than quantity fic. hmmmm. lollll

3. List of works published this year (in order of posting):

I warned you. I’m sorry in advance.

A Dream is a Soft Place to Land

We Made a Start

Tell Me That You've Got Me

I Don't Mean to Frustrate

How Much My Heart Depends

I Will Care For You

Hold Me Tight and Don't Let Go

Can We Talk for a Moment?

I Like Digging Holes

Back to How it Was

Not the Desperate Type

Just Enough (to Feel My Body Come Alive)

What Needs to be Done

I Knew From the First Time

Something Classic

The World Will Open Its Arms

How I Feel Inside

We've Come Too Far

I Just Wanna Give You Love

(That's Just) The Way I Am

This is a Rainbow War

Can I Have Your Attention, Please?

Great Minds (They Think Just the Same)

You're Here, Where You Should Be

Nowhere to Land (as of today! hurray!)

4. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction, BBC Radio 1

5. Pairings: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson/Nick Grimshaw

6. Story with the most:

Kudos: I Just Wanna Give You Love (757...holy shit when did that happen?)

Bookmarks: I Just Wanna Give You Love (283)

Comments: I Just Wanna Give You Love (8783)

That was kinda boring. I was expecting more diversity, tbh hahaha I also had no idea that was like by far my most popular fic this year? Who knew.

9. Work I’m most proud of (and why):

Back to How it Was. It is my fic baby. Well, my second born fic baby. I spent two years brainstorming and starting the fic and restarting it and reworking it before I finally wrote it from scratch for NaNoWriMo last year and posted it with Big Bang this year. I didn’t think I could win NaNo or that I had the guts to do Big Bang even though I’d always wanted to do it, and I finally did it for this baby, because I knew it was worth it and it so was. It’s my longest fic, what I feel is my best written fic, and the fic I THOUGHT was going to be by far my most popular one, but obvs famous/non famous soulmates won hahaha It even was enough to give me the motivation to actually write a sequel (Nowhere to Land) and just. I love this fic so so so much. Defo what I’m most proud of this year.

10. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

You know, my biggest focus this year was not so much writing less, but writing with more purpose. Making my writing more quality (I wrote over 40 fics last year and it felt like TOO MUCH even if I learned a lot), and I think that even though I still posted a LOT of fics this year and my word count was actually more than last year, I think it was better quality. I think my writing overall was better and because of that, I’m proud of all of my fics. It’s the first year I’ve really been able to say that, but I don’t think I could choose a least proud fic. I love all of them too much.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

Oh shit. Uhhhh...here! @sadaveniren reminded me I was damn proud of banter I wrote this year, and since I can’t share a Tomlinshaw snippet yet, enjoy this tidbit from I Like Digging Holes.

“Lads,” Liam called. “We’re back in five.”

Zayn turned back to the computer and finished what he was doing as Harry took his mic off mute.

“That was the new tune by our good friend, Niall Horan. Isn’t On the Loose a jam, Zayn?”

“It is. It is. But I think you’re just trying to distract me from what we were discussing during that song, Harry.”

Harry smirked and Zayn’s brows raised higher. His eyes were sparkling and Harry knew this next part was going to be fun. “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. Would you like to share with the listeners what we were discussing?”

“Yes, well, our very own Harry Styles was sitting here, proper chair dancing and singing along to Niall’s latest single, all while peeling an orange.”

“It is a delicious orange, in case you were wondering,” Harry said, making sure everyone could tell by the way he was speaking that he had a segment in his mouth as he spoke.

“You’re disgusting,” Zayn said. He couldn’t keep the corner of his mouth from raising a little, though, so Harry knew he was mostly joking. “I swear I’m going to take your phone and start posting how you eat to your precious Insta story myself. Anyway, would you like to tell everyone where exactly you came upon this orange?”

“Of course, Zaynie. I came upon this lovely orange in the lift.”

Zayn was hardly containing his laughter now, but he did his best to remain serious. Harry knew the comments on their video this morning would be amusing to say the least. They always loved it when Harry and Zayn bickered a bit.

“Harryyyyy,” Zayn drew out, finally succumbing to his giggles. “Who finds an orange in the lift and thinks, ‘Wow, that looks delicious. I think I’ll take it?’”

“Well, obviously I do,” Harry said, also giggling. “It’s not like it was just rolling around! It was in a box!”

“A box almost makes it worse,” Zayn said, getting more and more animated as their conversation continued. “Someone may be looking for their missing orange now!”

“I don’t think so,” Harry said. “Besides. If they’re smart they’re listening to our show now and have found where their orange has gone.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Harry hummed as he sent a cheeky wink Zayn’s way and continued eating his orange.

12. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

Oh gosh. There have been several that made me cry this year, they were so lovely. Some I save in my emails for when I have a bad day. I don’t know that I have any one single favorite, but I did have one the other day that told me they appreciated how I end my fics with them being resolved but still somewhat open ended therefore allowing the reader to choose the future of the characters. That meant a lot to me because there’s a lot of fics I write where the only comments are people begging for more (which is totally fine! I know I write short fics that often are just a snippet in time for those characters and leaves people wanting more hehe), but often the point of those fics is to leave so much in the air. I like the possibilities swirling and people wondering and coming up with their own ideas, and this particular commenter said they appreciated that. that meant the world to me! I was glad they liked that since it’s something I feel strong about but that often frustrates people hehe

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

oh gosh okay listen. writing this year was my safe haven and most of the fics flowed from me in a most magical way. i think it was because i was writing fics i wanted to write? if that makes sense? but there were three fics that were REALLY hard for me. i learned a lot from all three, but the hardest i think was my mirrors fic, Just Enough (to Feel My Body Come Alive). I had an incredibly specific vision and feel for this fic and I felt like I fell so so so short from what I was trying to do. Every word was a struggle because I wanted to be sure it was right, and in the end I just didn’t have the time to really wrangle with the words how I wanted to. I got the fic done by the deadline and I was proud of what I wrote, but I just. I really truly wrestled with those words. I hope the emotion present in the fic, the settings created, and the growth of the characters as well as the narrative style I presented in the mixed POVs were effective for the readers! I put a lot of myself into that fic emotionally.

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

I think the Grimmy in Can I Have Your Attention, Please? surprised me. I wanted him to be very very true to the Grimmy we get on the radio and his personality shown there, and I think I got it, but it came much easier than I really thought it would. He was so endearing to me and silly and honestly a bit of a disaster and every time I finished writing him, I would go and yell in one of my chats because I just was amazed and how alive he came to be on the page. I hope others felt that way if they read it too. I really loved writing him because of how much he surprised me every time I got to write him.

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

Well. If you’d asked me this a week ago I would have told you in confidence. I became incredibly confident in my ability to write a fairly decent fic on pretty much anything. I feel like I can twist pretty much any prompt (within a few minor constraints) and do it well. But then this past week happened and I’m not sure confidence is where I grew. hahahaha I still am incredibly unsure of myself and scared when I post things.

One way I do definitely think I grew though is I tried different writing styles and structures. Last year I explored with tropes a lot, and I still did that this year, but I found ways to kind of make them different from what I’d done before. I really liked that.

16. How do you hope to grow next year:

Well. Last year I wanted to write more in general. This year I wanted to write more quality fics. Next year I think I want to just focus more on writing when I’m inspired. I want to try to cut down on deadlines a bit and focus more on fics that I want to write when I want to write them. I got a taste for that a little bit this year and I have to say I’m kind of addicted and would like to see that trend continue. So maybe just...ease up on writing a little bit, allow myself to read more again, and write what inspires me.

17. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Oh gosh uhmmmmm. Well honestly Grimmy influenced me a lot this year. Grimmy and Greg and Scott and Chris all from Radio 1 found their ways into a lot of my fics this year as characters themselves or finding bits of themselves represented in our boys within the fics. Listening to them all more this year helped me really up my banter game so I was able to write awesome bits like the snippet I shared above I think. But I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the fic community here. I don’t even know that I can name everyone, but I was defo supported by some incredible people including @wait4ever, @londonfoginacup, @becomeawendybird, @briannamarguerite, @catfishau, @suddenclarityharry, and so so so many more. I’m so sorry I’m not naming all of you, because seriously without any of the people who have been so kind to me I just. Writing is hard and scary and the next question is gonna be where I show part of why it’s so hard and scary, but it’s because of the kindness I have found in this fandom that I feel like I can keep going.

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

*nervous laughter* yeah. I mean, there’s always parts of real life in fic, isn’t there? I find myself infusing bits of myself into my characters every time I write, but the fic that scared me the most and had me most worried it was total trash before posting it was actually Nowhere to Land. I couldn’t figure out why until today when I realized it was because so so so many of Harry’s worries and feelings about writing the article and his growth in the fic is very much everything I struggle with personally. I didn’t remember putting so much of myself into him, so I felt like posting him was like putting myself as a person out there for people to devour and either love or hate. Be kind or cruel about. And that’s fucking scary. So...yeah. Yeah real life always shows up, but Harry in that fic was kinda really me and that’s. A lot.

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

Keep going. You can do so much more than you think you can. Build a support crew. It doesn’t matter if they’re other writers or cheerleaders or betas or whatever, but build a community specifically for your fic. They’ll help keep you going when you’re feeling stuck and unsure and they’ll save you. Find your people. And always use a beta, no matter how scary that seems. They’ll save you. haha

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

Oh gosh yes. I mean, I’m posting my first hybrid fic and a hannah montana au and a sweet home alabama au and my very first futuristic fantasy epic adventure type au and all sorts of really fun things next year so i’m super crazy excited for the fic projects i’ve got going on just in the first several months of 2019. It’s gonna be an amazing year!

21. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

i love so many of you and i have no idea who has done this SO i’m just gonna go and tag some people, including those mentioned above!, and hope for the best! @greenfeelings, @mediawhorefics, @2tiedships2, @suddenclarityharry, @suspendrs, @shyshyserious, @marastarfar, @indiaalphawhiskey and any writer reading this who wants to do it!!!

#mine #writing stuff #my fics #my fic rec #fic stuff #about me #this was wonderful #i am sorry in advance it is so long #if you made it to the end you'er a hero

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fibula-rasa · 6 years

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(Content Warning: anti-Latino bigotry in coded language)

Romantic Romero

by Elisabeth Badger

Excerpt from Modern Screen (August 1939)

Full article & transcription after the JUMP

ONE OF Hollywood’s most contradictory personalities is tall, dark, sinister-looking Cesar Romero. If you belong to the misguided group who take Cesar at his face value and think of him as a cross between a gangster and a parlor snake, prepare to readjust your opinions—for Cesar has the most misunderstood face in town.

Though he has never given a bad performance, Cesar hasn’t been allowed to get very far in the movies, chiefly because his physiognomy isn’t the dimpled, curvaceous type that is the mark of the glamor boy, and manna at the box-office. The planes of his face, the implications of his mysterious eyes and sometimes cruel mouth, have more significance and less sunshine than is seemly in a public idol, especially a movie hero.

But in private life, Cesar is one of the most sympathetic, amiable and universally well-liked men in pictures. You can’t find a girl or man of his acquaintance who doesn’t say, “What a sweet guy!”

In the field of romance, likewise, he’s far from what he seems. Confirmed column-readers get the impression that Cesar is a philanderer, an accomplished side-stepper of matrimony. Actually, he has more good, sound old-fashioned ideals about women and marriage than most of the dimpled delegation.

“Everyone has the idea that I go with a different girl every night,” he said reproachfully, “whereas very few of those items in the columns are true. One girl at a time is enough for me.”

Red-headed Ann Sheridan was the girl at the time. But Cesar didn’t specify how much time is allotted to each girl, so I can’t guarantee that the romance still thrives—what with Ann being elected Oomph Girl, and Cesar having to wear a beard for weeks and weeks for his role in “The Return of the Cisco Kid.” However, Ann’s case will serve to exemplify Cesar’s point of view about women.

“Why do we have to marry?” he demanded, when I asked about their intentions. “Isn’t it possible to be attracted to each other, fond of each other’s company, without being expected to end up in matrimony? I’m very fond of Ann, I love her company, and we have loads of laughs. But I don’t intend to marry her, and I know she wouldn’t want to marry me.

“I’m the last person in the world that Ann should marry. A girl like that, with a career that interests her more than anything else, should marry someone who can help her. A producer or a director. Certainly not an actor.

“Besides,” he continued, distributing his six-feet-two more comfortably on the divan, “I have a lot of ideal about what I want marriage to be. I’ll be very cautious about whom I marry because when I do, I expect it to last forever. No divorce for me! And I can tell you one thing—my wife will be a non-professional. It isn’t possible to have two careers in one marriage—not mine anyway.”

CESAR DISMISSED the idea that an actor’s leading women are a threat to marriage. Even though stars do with great regularity discard their mates in favor of the most recent leading lady, the surprising Mr. Romero has no fear of such pitfalls. He thinks it would be a poor husband who couldn’t withstand that temptation.

“What would worry me would be clash of temperament, ambition and working hours. That’s what I’ll never marry an actress. An actor’s wife has to efface herself, in a sense, and adapt herself to his way of life, and care more for his success than her own.”

I pointed out that if marriage is his ultimate object, he’s wasting a lot of valuable time these evenings, for Cesar seldom goes out with anyone but actresses.

He nodded assent. “But I don’t know anyone else,” he said simply. “I have been very much in love—once, in the East, before I came to Hollywood. She was a woman ten years older than I and she had two children, but I was completely in love with her. I never wanted to be apart from her. That, to me, is the real test of love.

“I’m afraid that has spoiled me for everything else. I’m sure if it hadn’t been for that experience. I would have thought many times since that I was in love. But because I know what it is really like, I’ve never been able to deceive myself. I’ve always known it wasn’t the real thing. That thought has probably cheated me out of a lot of fun.

“I’ve been infatuated, of course—crazy about various girls for the moment. But really being in love, to me, is being unhappy unless that person is with you every minute—the feeling that you want her with you, must have her with you, all the time. I’ve never felt that way about any other woman.”

Few men have been exposed to more high-powered blandishments. Cesar has been in Hollywood since the first “Thin Man” picture, which is quite a span of years. In that time his career has gone through various phases, but he has never really had a real break professionally. He’s become well-known principally through his extra-studio activities which included going to the most prominent parties, dancing with stars who could appreciate his professional smoothness, and beauing all the glamor girls to places well within the range of the candid camera’s eye.

It was rather a strange set-up—young man with a relatively small salary and a minimum of fame, finding himself always in the thick of the most successful and celebrated. But that role was a familiar one to Cesar. His adult life had always been that way.

ELDEST SON of a well-to-do Cuban family, he lived in comparative luxury for fourteen years in New York City, where he was born. Just as he reached an age when money begins to have some meaning, his father’s business crashed with the collapse of the sugar market. The Romeros took refuge on the New Jersey shore where they had always spent their summers, and devoted themselves to painful economy. When he wasn’t in school, Cesar worked in various lowly capacities at a big New Jersey department store.

But the social standing of the Romeros did not stop with their income, so Cesar found himself in the anomalous position of delivering packages at a lady’s door in the afternoon, and brushing shoulders with her at a fashionable dance in the evening.

He had quite a career in the department store—progressing from wrapper to stock boy to truck driver. One summer, he endured the rigors of a soldier’s life at the Plattsburg Military Training Camp because his father saw an advertisement in the paper: “Send your boy to Plattsburg and swap him for a man.” Cesar went under protest, and doesn’t think the swap quite came off. His family moved back to New York so he could have his last three years of schooling at the Collegiate School there.

“That period of my life seemed very glamorous and exciting,” he recalled. “The Collegiate boys used to take the Spence School girls out every afternoon that we could afford it. I had just enough money to walk to the girl’s house, take her in a taxi to the Ambassador tea dance, and get her back to her house in a taxi—and then walk home. It was not considered cricket (Continued on page 84)

ROMANTIC ROMERO

(Continued from page 29)

for a girl to order anything more expensive than cinnamon toast and tea, and if she did, she was never invited again.”

There must be honor among glamor girls in those matters, too, for though Cesar still takes out girls whose expensive whims are far beyond his income, figuratively speaking, they stick to the cinnamon toast and tea.

AFTER graduation, his father’s friends got him a job as a runner for a Wall Street bank. He lived alone in a little hall bedroom and continued his double life. At night he was the perfect dancing partner at innumerable debutante parties. While by day he tramped around Wall Street with a pouch full of valuables shackled to his wrist. This being handcuffed to a mail-bag, for practically nothing a week, was what got Cesar down. It was inevitable that a boy who could dance that well wasn’t going to see much of a future in Wall Street. He was ripe material for a girl friend who itched to go on the stage and urged him to become her dancing partner.

They worked, they rehearsed, and at last they were engaged for a spot in a musical show. Cesar gave up his job, and sent word to his family that he had gone on the stage. They were staggered. So was the audience. The act lasted exactly one night. But Cesar now had his foot in the door of a theatrical career, and wouldn’t remove it. He worked hard on new routines, changed partners several times, and finally, after a long heartbreaking siege of ups and downs, became a successful ballroom dancer. He was featured at all the smartest night spots, among them the famous old Montmartre—which is where producer Brock Pemberton saw him and gave him the lead in the road company of “Strictly Dishonorable.”

That tour was Romero’s start as a legitimate actor. Shows on Broadway followed, and then M-G-M’s screen test which brought him to Hollywood and a long series of villainous roles.

Cesar’s swarthy coloring, and particularly the bony structure of his face, give it a sinister cast, but when you look closely you see that his eyes are kind; his mouth, gentle. On the day I talked to him he looked positively spiritual, because he was wearing a beard. It was grown for his role as a dirty but benevolent Mexican in “Cisco Kid,” but seen without the serape and sombrero, it made him look as if he might perform miracles.

The tragedy is that no one will cast Cesar in the kind of role his sympathetic personality deserves. Even at Fox, where he is now under contract, more often than not he gets parts that don’t do his popularity any good. But the protests are mine, not his. Cesar doesn’t feel sorry for himself at all.

“I’m grateful to be earning enough to take care of my family,” he said, “so my father has no more worries. They are all out here now—my mother and father, two sisters and a brother. They don’t live with me. Oh, no!” He shook his head with a laugh. “I’ve lived alone too long to be able to live with my family again. But they have an apartment in the same building. I’m very happy to be able to take care of them and have them with me.

THE greatest disappointment I’ve had was not getting the part of Dr. Saffi in “The Rains Came.” I wanted it terribly and I think I could do it well,. But they won’t give me a chance. Tyrone Power’s going to do it. He isn’t the right type for the part, but I’m not a great star and I’m not box-office.

That’s the sort of thing that can happen to a man when his bone structure is against him.

#pride month #pride #classic film #classic movies #cesar romero #film stars #confirmed bachelor #gay hollywood #movie stars #modern screen #film magazine #vintage #1930s #thirties #film #film history

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syncogon · 6 years

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The End of an Era (QZGS Prequel Excerpt Translation)

Happy birthday to Wu Xuefeng (Nov 8), one of the most underrated characters in QZGS!

He was perhaps Ye Xiu’s closest friend during the early days of Glory, and he was crucial in helping Excellent Era win the championships in the first three seasons. Battle God One Autumn Leaf got all the fame for it, but he couldn’t have done it without the quiet assistance of Qi Breaker. (After Wu Xuefeng retired in season 3 and went overseas, EE never won a championship again. Coincidence? I think not!)

Fun fact, Sun Zheping was greatly inspired by him and his playstyle; if not for him, our beloved Berserker might not have considered going pro.

All in all, Wu Xuefeng was an upstanding, reasonable, and all-around Good Person worthy of admiration. People like him are truly hard to come by.

Sadly there’s like no art for him, so here’s a little snippet from the prequel (ch 9), featuring Ye Xiu, Wu Xuefeng, and Han Wenqing. (did this really fast so it’s a little sloppier than normal, sorry)

“Last year it was Blood and Blossoms, this year we have the Magician, the pro scene just keeps getting more and more talent!” Ye Qiu couldn’t help but exclaim as he looked at the list of the eight teams who would be competing in the Season 3 playoffs.

“But first place will still be Excellent Era,” he added. Even though he was captain of the team and thus biased, he stated this like an immutable truth.

“Tyranny’s fourth.” Next to Ye Qiu stood another player studying the final point values – Han Wenqing. He said these words coldly.

“That’s nothing to be proud of,” Ye Qiu said casually, earning quite an aggressive glare. He looked at the rankings again. “Oh, I see. We’re first, you’re fourth…” This meant that they were on the same side of the playoff bracket; only one of them would be able to advance to the finals.

Ye Qiu nodded and looked at Han Wenqing. “This time, you won’t even make it to finals.”

“We’ll see,” replied the other player.

“Even after so many defeats, you still have quite the spirit,” Ye Qiu said with a laugh.

“As long as you’re not scared.”

“You’re making me laugh, sir,” he added the respectful form of address mockingly.

“See you onstage,” was the only reply, Han Wenqing acting serious as always.

“See you onstage.”

The two of them shook hands and parted. Ye Qiu walked out of the building, made a turn, and strolled along the sidewalk by himself.

Since he never did any interviews or made any public appearances, even though he walked right out of the League building, no one knew that this random youth was in fact the Battle God who had won the championships of the first two seasons.

After walking a bit farther and turning into a small side road, his steps slowed and he lit a cigarette.

Suddenly, he heard a cough from behind him, and then, as though the first one weren’t loud enough, two more coughs in quick succession. Ye Qiu turned around, cigarette still in hand, and saw Wu Xuefeng walk out of an inconspicuous side door.

“Is this really necessary? It’s not like there’s anyone here,” said Ye Qiu, amused.

“Well, as long as you don’t mind,” replied Wu Xuefeng.

Although this was only Season 3, the growth and development of the Glory Professional Alliance had surpassed all expectations. In the popular Gaming Weekly magazine, probably around eighty percent of the articles were reports on the Glory Alliance.

As Glory became more and more popular, the best professional players became stars that people would chase after. Wu Xuefeng was on a championship team, and would be recognized even walking down the street – there was no way he could exit the main door of the League building without being disturbed.

“If I’d known it’d be like this, I would’ve done the same as you,” Wu Xuefeng sighed, annoyed at how he had to sneak out of the building like a thief.

“Well, you’ll be leaving all this behind soon enough,” said Ye Qiu.

Wu Xuefeng fell silent, knowing to what Ye Qiu was referring. In silence, they continued walking along.

“Nothing gold can stay,” said Wu Xuefeng finally.

“When Heaven went AFK he said the same thing.” *

“Old brother, this is called retirement, okay? Be professional.”

“It’s all the same.” Ye Qiu took a drag on his cigarette. Three years in the Glory game, three years in the professional alliance – through it all, Wu Xuefeng was Ye Qiu’s most reliable friend. The Battle Mage One Autumn Leaf stood in the spotlight, while the name of the Qi Master, Qi Breaker, didn’t resound through the Glory sphere in the same way. But Ye Qiu himself was very clear on just how important this friend and teammate was to him and Excellent Era.

But now, it was just as Wu Xuefeng said. Nothing gold can stay. Wu Xuefeng had chosen to end his Glory career here. At the end of the season, he would announce his retirement and say farewell to the world in which he’d spent six years of his life.

“Do you have any plans?” asked Ye Qiu.

“I’ll probably go abroad,” was the reply.

“Oh.” Ye Qiu nodded. He could only ask; with no experience on thinking about the future, he had no advice to offer.

“This is the last time. Three straight championships would be a good parting gift,” Wu Xuefeng said.

“It should be,” Ye Qiu replied with a smile.

“I saw the final rankings – Hundred Blossoms second, Tiny Herb third, Tyranny fourth.

“Yeah, I saw. And I even met Han Wenqing, too.”

“Really? What did he say?” asked Wu Xuefeng, curious.

“What else could he say? ‘See you onstage.’” Ye Qiu attempted to imitate Han Wenqing’s gruff way of speaking, without much success.

The imitation earned a laugh regardless. “Figures, he hasn’t figured out a new catchphrase.”

“Yeah, every year it’s the playoffs, every year he’s the opponent, every year he says ‘see you onstage,’” Ye Qiu said emphatically. He paused, then added, “But still, if we really were able to continue like this for ten more years, that wouldn’t be too bad at all.”

Wu Xuefeng smiled ruefully. Ten years? To do this for ten years, it would be a good way to spend a decade. But a decade like that just wasn’t for him. For him, all that remained were the three rounds of the playoffs.

… “The new players that have popped up these two years, they’re really so much more skilled than the players of our early era,” Wu Xuefeng said. “Last year we had the duo from Hundred Blossoms, this year we have Tiny Herb’s Wang Jiexi. Who knows how many talents will appear next year?”

“You want to stay and find out?” Ye Qiu said.

“Forget it,” Wu Xuefeng laughed. “I don’t want to let those brats get experience points from defeating me. Let the curtain close on me gracefully.”

“You will.” Ye Qiu said simply, and took another drag from his cigarette. The two walked on, side by side for just a while longer.

quick notes:

* I honestly have no idea what he’s referring to here...

... they talk for a tiny bit about 301 Degrees and Yang Cong here but I dropped it b/c I’m in a hurry rn lol

WXF isn’t literally saying “nothing gold can stay” but I’m pretty sure he’s quoting something, so I picked a famous quote that meant basically the same thing.

#quan zhi gao shou #qzgs #the king's avatar #tka #全职高手 #mine #translation #im doing this really quickly right now against my better judgment #so it's not super great quality but #yeah

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sutare-chan · 4 years

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Ao Jumonji’s Roman, pt.1

Ah! I see, you can hear me, thank you~ Well then, here goes the synopsis along with some commentary on my part.

1. Asa to Yoru It's a rather short excerpt that begins with the words "You wake up under a sky, torn apart into two". Yes, it's "you"-prospective. That's the line that lured me into the text once I opened it, actually. Anyway, you wake up under a torn sky, in which one part is the morning, while the other part is the night full of stars. You walk, and walk, and walk, but nothing ever changes, except that you get hell tired. You're all alone and at some point you're starting to wonder if you've got a body at all. Apparently you do (otherwise how would it have been possible to walk?). But when you try to check it, you only see a cloud of black dust (you're not sure if it's fine like that). Finally you're exhausted and sit down, when suddenly there appears a man with something round and transparent on his eye, a stick and a hat (GEE, I WONDER who that might be!), who has two girls with him. The man introduces himself as M (wtf?..), but when you go all wtf is wrong with this name, he gives you a free choice: Marcel, Martin, Matias, Michael, Michel or even Christophe. Anyway, he asks you weird questions making you wonder what are YOU. Finally he gives you the dolls, and then you suddenly realize you're not you, but me. I mean, from there on the prospective slowly starts to change, and it's not the 2nd person anymore, but the 1st. (I'll be calling the character Hiver from now on). Oh, and yes, Hiver gets the normal human-like shape as the dolls touch him. You know, from the album jacket we all know. M makes a weird Jimang-prophecy and disappears, while Hiver is still all wtf is going on. He slowly realizes he's neither dead nor born, he's super afraid and tries to run away, but it doesn't really help. Quoting: "I'm not alive, hence I cannot die. How weird it is that I, the one never to have been born, would need something. I suppose that's funny even. I would've laughed if that wasn't about myself <...> So what is it that I need, that I'm looking for? Something I miss painfully? What am I missing so that I ended up here and probably got locked? What is it? Is this the inevitability? Or maybe the circumstances? Or maybe reasons? I guess it's all and none of those. Those are but shatters. Neither reasons, nor circumstances, nor the inevitability are quite the thing I'm looking for. Even all of them combined aren't enough. I want to open the gates and get out of here. But I need the key for that. "Roman". The key. That is the key to the gates. "If there's a roman that leads to my birth, I want to find it"." So, being scared of becoming black dust again, he still smiles and sends Hortense and Violette away to find him a roman. And stays alone between morning and night... (end of chapter 1, which was actually no more than a few pages. what follows is...) A piece of Noël nr.1 So, it all begins with a children's playing yard. There are numerous places to play on that one, but most of them are occupied by other children. The least popular on the playground are... ah... these things (sorry for the inconvenience once again, tumblr won’t post the image =\)

A boy (or should I say THE boy?) is sitting on one of those. At some point he tried to go to the slides, but the boys that are playing there won't let him into their circle. After some time the boy starts to sing because he's so sad, and two of the boys come closer - just to drive him away from that spring-thing too D= The only place left for the boy is under the lonely tree (at that point he thinks - “Who was that cruel person who cut down all the trees except this one? Had I been the tree, I’d rather be felled with the others”). He sits there and keeps singing. Sounds are flowing into his ears and get transformed in his head. He sings along with the world, so to say. At evening, when all the children are gone already, he suddenly hears sharp and scary steps. That's his granny. He runs towards her, while she turns around and walks away without even waiting for him. [oh boy, I'm missing so many details...] One more point: feeling that his granny is somewhat irritated, Noël apologizes, but she doesn't like that. So the chapter ends as follows. A car with blinding lights rides by, and the grand-mother has to pull Noël so that he doesn't get hit. "As soon as the car rushed by, granny let his hand off and muttered something about being tired. He would want to apologize now. But that would only make her feel more irritated, wouldn't it?.." 2. Hiiro no Fuusha It all starts with a rather peaceful morning. A boy (his name is Gilles [like the French name]) wakes up in a small barn where he lives together with the house's animals. Basically, he's not quite at home in this house. His parents are dead, and the family that lives in this house, are his very distant relatives. So, he's basically a small (13 years old) male Cinderella (or so he thinks), but he's in love with the daughter from this house, a girl of his age with the name Clarice. It seems like this is mutual, although Gilles is afraid to even think about it. He's an orphan after all, his future is just so unclear. The daughter isn't the only child in the family. She also has an elder brother, Maxim, and a younger brother, Hector. There's a tension between Maxim and Gilles, because Maxim would sometimes come to Gilles's place at evening and say nasty things (and even kicks him one day). Gilles doesn't understand why, but oh well. He's oh so hated by everyone (except Clarice, who's like a saint to him). So, one day they were harvesting wheat, and Clarice actually more or less confessed to him: "Listen" "Hm?" "Gilles?" "What is it, Clarice?" "I like you so very much. Let's get married?" "Eh?" "Let's get married some day? Are you against it?" "No, I'm not!" "And it will be so much fun every day!" But Gilles thinks that's impossible and they can never marry because he's a poor orphan. He thinks that Clarice is being naive (although she strongly hints that she understands everything very well). Yet he's happy that at least he could dream a bit about it. [by this point you might start to wonder just how will it come to that Gilles will leave her behind]. Anyway, in the evening he feels completely down and is sure that his hopes are never to come true and even wanders away from home. He's walking around and then suddenly realizes he's in the forest. There he sees a (domestic) pig that was also wandering around instead of going home. He wants to help/force it out of the forest, when suddenly Maxim appears and warns Gilles that pigs are dangerous and can harm people. We suddenly get to know that Maxim's actually very much like a tsundere ='D I mean, they used to be like brothers, but then as they became older, it got impossible to always have Gilles around (you may imagine how bothersome children may get sometimes, even if you love them), so their relationship started to crumble. Gilles thought Maxim hated him, when in fact Maxim was trying to set things right again, but since Gilles was an angsting kid, it wasn't all that easy. But finally they have a proper talk in the forest and are heading home, Gilles full of hopes, when suddenly they see a glimpse of fire... Yup, that very day knights attack the village. The family tries to escape to the church as they believe it's safe there, but it's actually not. A red-haired knight-commander is already there with his knights. In the upcoming turmoil pretty much all of the family get slaughtered, except Gilles and Clarice that managed to sneak away. Clarice is shocked and almost paralized, while Gilles thinks about how to save their asses. It all feels so horrible that he for a moment he gets sure that he must be in hell, but then he realizes that since Clarice is here, this cannot be hell, no matter what. So, he saw that the knights had come from the forest to the west from the village and thinks that there should be none left there. He leads Clarice there, and when they're tired, they hide themselves in a bush. They seem to have forgotten what had happened, so they actually talk about how they care for each other and almost kiss. Unfortunately, there are also other villagers hiding in the forest, and the knights eventually come back there, too. After hearing screams, the two remember that everything's very very bad and try to keep silence. Then they hear a weak voice. Maxim's voice, actually. Gilles was about to get away from the bush, but then the person who seemingly had the voice resembling Maxim's (that’s Gilles trying to reject reality) got murdered. Frightened, Gilles thinks that they need to get out of there asap and as far as possible, too. But unfortunately right after they start to flee... Clarice's hand gets grabbed. Gilles struggles to snatch her away, but the soldier that caught her punches the poor boy in the stomach and he falls. He also happened to stand on the edge of a hollow, so he stumbles down, down there, watching at how Clarice "flies up" from him. He fell very badly and was in so much pain he couldn't move a muscle (or so it feels), but he was conscious nevertheless. So he heard the soldier and his fellows rape Clarice up there. Gilles was hoping someone would finally climb down and kill him already, but unfortunately right when one of the soldiers was satisfied and was about to follow the boy he had seen, Clarice finally raises her voice, she laughs and yells that all of them are cursed and will burn in hell. The soldiers, distracted and annoyed by that, kill her and forget about Gilles. He was still lying at the bottom of the hollow, waiting for death to come, when it gets bright again, and a new morning came to the world where Clarice was gone. Where he let Clarice die. Where he killed Clarice. After that we get a time-skip. Outskirts of a town. A really stinky tavern. There appears a young man in a dirty cloak. He sits at a table next to a drunk man, presumably an ex-soldier. The two speak. The ex-soldier sees that despites his looks the young man seems to have quite some money. Quoting: "So what the heck are you doing here?" "I just came to drink some water" "Bullshit" <...> "I've known a person of the same name as yours" "Wha?" "Maxim" "Why the heck you know my name?" "I just guessed" "Ya think I'm gonna believe this?" "Who knows <...> I need to talk to you, Maxim." Gilles promises to pay if Maxim talks to him outside of the tavern. They go. Maxim feels a bit nervous because this Gilles (yes, that's him, and he's a bit insane as one can feel through the dialogue) walks way too smoothly and silently, like a cat. Quoting again: "So, what'd you wanna ask? <...> It's cold, I don't wanna talk for too long" "That's right, winter is coming... My first winter back then was very cold too, huh..." "Back then?" "That's none of your business, Maxim. Never mind. Tell about yourself". They talk a bit, and soon enough Gilles confirmed that this Maxim was one of the soldiers that had attacked the village under the command of Damien Laurant. Gilles hadn't known that name, and he bursts into laughter and was about to go his way. But Maxim reminded him that Gilles had promised to pay, and so (quoting again) ""Ah, that's right" Gilles turned around and somewhat shrank. The next instant he was attacking, and not just like that! What swiftness! Gilles drew his sword so much faster than he did! The blade pierced through Maxim's belly and sticked out from his back. <...> He twisted his wrists, turning the sword, and then again, and again. "Finally I've learned it. Damien Laurant. So that was his name. Maxim, you see, I found one more person before you, but I accidentally missed the time to ask the name. <...> I just didn't have enough patience, that wasn't on purpose, I swear. Listen, Maxim. There's one more thing I want to know, since I have the chance. How many people have you killed <...>? In that forest? Was there a girl among them? Please do tell. Answer me. Maxim, what's wrong? Maxim?.. Ah, Maxim. Have you died? What a pity. I wanted to ask so much more <...> I haven't had enough patience. It's all your fault, Maxim. I've known a person of the same name. He was... like a friend to me or even a brother. But I killed him. I left him to die. So terrible. I do deserve to go to hell. No doubt"." So, Gilles says he cannot die just yet until he's killed Damien Laurant. And he goes off, laughing. A piece of Noël nr.2 Noël is sitting in the room and playing on a melodica. He sees a shinig sunray through the hazed window, but he cannot express its colour by words. So instead he's trying to find the right expression through melody. His granny's also there and she says that he should shut up and leave, because she doesn't feel well with him around. Granny's been caughing hard and a lot lately, and she also came to neglect her looks. She doesn't dye her hair anymore, her tights have holes etc. Noël obeys and stops playing and goes to the exit. The room is overfilled with all kinds of garbage, so there isn't much place to step, thus it takes a lot of time. Before leaving, he actually told her to stop smoking, but to no avail =P He sits outside the apartment, in the staircase, and starts to play his melodica again, but the neighbour woman comes and tells him that her small babies are sleeping and Noël's disturbing them. So he leaves again and wanders around. No one is asking the boy with a melodica if something's wrong. As the evening draws near, he watches some windows where light turns on, feels very bad and runs off to the riverside. There he tried to play his melodica again, but some stranger that looked closely at him scared Noël and he hid himself under a bridge. Cars are riding above his head, wheels and tires screaming and echoing. Noël has a vision of a scary giant monster, which cannot be put in words - but can be expressed through melody. Scared, he plays the tune, he has the feeling his head is about to pop, but he goes on. The monster grabs cars and throws them around, and finally it finds Noël and bites his head, and grinds it with its teeth. Noël was gone. But not the melody. The monster was there... 3. Miezaru Ude So, this time the main hero's name is Serge. Serge Laurant. He's a young knight. He had a hard time gaining this position, but finally he succeeded and now he's at war. He has a servant, Beau (that reads roughly as "Bo" by French rules). Serge is around 19 years old. Beau is a bit older than him, but he's very smart and knows a lot. It's evening, the army is getting to rest. There are lots of mercenaries around, that are behaving much like beasts, so Serge is being sad that the times of noble chivalry are gone. We also learn that this is the army of general Alvarez. So, the night has come, when suddenly Beau wakes Serge and tells that there seems to be an enemy attack. Serge is all wtf, how can it be, that's so unlike what knights are supposed to act. Still, they have to accept the fact, that yup, apparently they're being attacked. Because of reasons Serge cannot get to his horse, but he desperately needs to go to the battle to prove himself a true knight and a good warrior. He grabs his sword and runs after the enemy, who seems to be not numerous at all. Apparently, the enemy's plan was to use the moment to kill as many mercenaries as possible, cause some chaos and then disappear. Unfortunately, pretty much right after Serge gets into the forest, he stumbles upon a knight with red hair and a cross-like scar on his cheek and gets half of his arm cut off. [but it wasn't said directly in the text] Oops! The next scene is discribed in a way that one could think it's a dream. So, Serge seems to live in Rouen now, he catches wild dogs and kills them to make a living. He doesn't particularly like his job, and he's almost constantly covered with dog blood and remains, so other citizens try to avoid him. He lives in a very narrow house with his wife, Natalie, who always meets him, and kisses him, and washes his clothes and makes him food (despite actually being a noble lady). Serge sees a dream that starts with him waking up after that life in Rouen and believing that it had been but a dream. In his nightmare he has both arms, but then the red-haired knight appears out of nowhere and cuts one of them off. Serge is trying his best to defend himself, and then he wakes up in his house in Rouen, because he ended up falling from the bed. He also discovers that Natalie lies on the floor, too, because of some reason. Apparently, he hit her in his sleep... Serge loves his wife a lot and he remembers that she comes from a good family. He wants to gain more money so that he could afford at least some luxury for her. He tries to work as a chimneysweep, but, unfortunately, he fails, as it's a tricky task for a man with only one arm. Irritated, he goes to a tavern and gets drunk. Then he gets into a fight with some drunkard. Then he forgets himself and wakes up with his head on some woman's heap. The woman's name is Bernadette and apparently she's a whore. Serge can't remember getting to her room, he's startled and disgusted, so he goes home right after. Natalie was waiting for him there. Soon as he returned, he got sober, and his right arm started to ache again. Some time after that Serge is on his dog-killing duty again. He is actually obliged to get the dog corpses to a certain house to get them burnt. This time he gets triggered by the smell of burning flesh, and remembers his arm being cauterized. It aches madly, as if put in boiling oil, and to make the pain disappear he gets drunk again. The same man as before (the one he had a fight with) insulted Serge by calling him a coward knight, and they fight again. Serge can't remember what happened after that, but he ended up falling asleep somewhere in the street, and then Bernadette finds him and gets to her room, removes his clothes, and kisses his wound... That triggers him again, but it seems that she actually provoked him on purpose so that he would hit her (apparently she’s somewhat masochistic). After that he runs back home again. Serge is tortured by questions: why, why is all this shit happening? Well, it's quite obvious, why. Because that red-haired knight cut off his arm. Speaking of which, that was more or less the only thing the red-haired knight managed to accomplish by his sudden attack. The next morning Alvarez rearranged the troops, and they were able to fight again. Except for Serge. This is about time we learn a bit about Natalie and Serge's relationship. Apparently Serge is the second son in a knight family. His father had a friend, a nobleman, and (apparently) merchant. That friend was much more rich than Serge's father, but they were close, and that’s why that friend would often visit the family. One day he brought along his daughter, who behaved like a noble queen. That pissed off Serge's elder brother, so he yelled at her, but Serge defended her. That time she was very thankful and called Serge her knight. That instant it was all decided. Serge now HAD to become a knight (as non-profitable as it seemed) to fulfill that... that kind of a promise that was made between the two by those words. They fell in love with each other. Serge doubted that his father's friend would be happy to know his daughter wanted to marry such a poor (although noble) man, but Natalie would neglect every other marriage proposal. After a lot of hardships Serge managed to become a knight after all, and all that was left was that he had to accomplish some feat. All of what I've just written was told in the text in the form of yet another nightmare, and yes, at this point the red-haired guy appears and cuts off the arm. Once again, Serge hits Natalie in his sleep. Serge is disgusted of himself, but Natalie tries to say that everything will get fine, they just need to overcome the hard times. She calls him her knight again, but this time it results in his rage and he actually strangles her until she's unconscious (that's what I call "triggered"!) His alcohol problem gets worse and worse. When he feels resolved to overcome this illness, he loses his job. Desperate to get drunk, he comes to the tavern, but gets kicked out, as he has no money. Bernadette finds him again and invites him to her house so that she could give him some wine. He hates Bernadette, but the wine... Anyway, he spends almost the whole night there. When he realized what he had done, he decides once and for all, that once he comes home, he will end this. If Natalie is waiting for him despite him being so late, he WILL start his life anew. If not, he will kill himself one way or another. When he does come home, he sees Natalie sobbing by her bed, but she's not alone - there's also Beau. Beau became a successful merchant after he quit the army, and APPARENTLY he was helping Serge's family all along (Serge having no idea about that). Serge finally realizes and starts being jealous. Fortunately, Natalie slaps this shit out of him. But when he wakes up in the morning, Natalie is gone. He thinks that must be another nightmare. It’s just that because of some reason he cannot wake up from it. He comes to understand that he did have something to lose, and it was his beloved wife, but now she's gone. He doesn't blame her, but he can't understand, why now of all times. Still believing it's all one big nightmare, he gets kicked out from his house and comes to Bernadette, where she gives him so much wine he cannot move for days, "as if wine was circulating in his veins instead of blood". He can't tell reality apart from the dream anymore. Lying in the bed, he sees the red-haired guy occasionally coming to the room. Finally Beau finds him in that state and grabs away. (here we also get to know a bit of Beau's story. he's a bastard of Laurant family, he's smarter and taller than Serge, but he hasn't inherited the famous Laurant blond hair, so he has to be Serge's servant; Serge has a complex because of that, even though he tries not to think of it) After having a talk with Beau Serge finds out that Beau knows the identity of that red-haired guy. And so Serge makes Beau tell him this story So, Damien Laurant was a self-proclaimed knight, not really different from a robber, and even more fierce than one. He was infamous for slaughtering whole villages instead of negotiating. Later he got kicked out from the army because of some reasons and had to become a real robber. Trying to maintain his fame, he hired way too many mercenaries, and the group ended up splitting and ceasing to exist. Right now Damien is told to have become a merchant who sells those "weird goods of the East" in Frankfurt. Without a further ado, Serge gets a horse from Beau (note that I haven’t used the word “asks” =‘D). rides to Frankfurt and searches for the man. He finds him in a tavern full of weird people. There he sees that Damien only has one arm and one eye, very much like Serge himself. Still Serge is resolved to have his revenge, when suddenly a young man in a dirt cloak appears, slaughters Damien and runs off, laughing like a child. "The young man seemed to have all his body-parts safe and sound. What had Damien Laurant taken from him? Serge would probably never know. But that man was missing something terribly important. He must have had a very good reason for the revenge. If Serge had heard his circumstances even just a bit, he would probably understand them. He didn't have the right to judge that young man. But what would that man with that laughter on the edge of craziness do from now on? And what if it would have been Serge, the one to carry out the revenge? What would he have done?" And, well, of course the boy resembling Damien was there, too. All in all, Serge realized that he still had a life and that he was obliged to live it. But that's not the end of the chapter. So, the last part is about Gilles again. He's walking through a city, when suddenly the Man in the Mask (yes, THE Man in THE Mask) catches up with him and gives some money for the service that Gilles had accomplished. Gilles's not sure, for which, as all his life has become a chain of murders. He can't even remember whom he's killing and why. He wants to kill everybody, but realizes that's no good. So, after receiving some gold he feels really uneasy, because that gold is heavy and he doesn't need it anyway. He drowns it into a river and then stumbles upon a beggar. The beggar's really persistent, and when Gilles reaches for a coin, that guy suddenly stabs him with a knife, takes a hammer and smashes Gilles's collarbones, elbows and knees, and jaws (ouch). Then he drags Gilles to a stall, where he tells Damien's (his father's) full story, which I'm too lazy to write down. One important thing is that Damien was on drugs when Gilles came to kill him, as he was ruining his life with that stuff. Otherwise there’d be no chance for Gilles to finish off the boy’s glorious dada. And Pierre (the boy's name, French for “a stone” or “a jewel”) was planning the revenge ever since, and realized he wants Gilles to live as long as possible in unbearable pain. "And you cannot escape from me. Ever".

Aaand this is about it for today, as I got a bit tired editing the stuff. However, I’ll continue soon, so stay tuned =) Please feel free to ask any questions. Upon rereading the synopsis I realized how, um, poor my narrative tools sometimes are x) See you!

#sound horizon #ao jumonji #roman #vanishing starlight #hetare-sutare

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yaboylevi · 7 years

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what's your favorite thing about ereri? (i like to ask a bunch of ereris this, see what they think ^^)

Hello! Sorry for the late reply, I was a bit busy with real life stuff AND I couldn’t really find an appropriate answer to this question. It’s been so long since I’ve started liking those two that it’s really difficult for me to find a thing I really like, mainly because my love for them is basically a big mess of feelings and emotions and memories of the nice moments I spent enjoying this ship. But I guess I mulled over it enough and you deserve an answer, so here I am.

I guess I equally like three things about Eren&Levi in canon, and I feel like they are pretty much connected so I’m gonna put them all three here.

The trust: Levi trusts his comrades, this is a fact. He doesn’t have trust issues, but his relationship with Eren didn’t exactly started in the best way. They weren’t comrades. Eren was possibly a monster against humanity, so Levi (and every other person that didn’t know Eren personally) didn’t immediately trust him, he thought about Eren’s titan power and saw something mysterious, possibly damaging to humankind and inexplicable, so we can say it was something fearsome. But as soon as Levi saw what there really was in Eren’s eyes, and so in Eren’s mind, he put his trust in him. When he conceded that Eren wasn’t a threat to humanity, Eren’s “monster” stirred hope in Levi, because it gave all of them a tangible chance to gain real freedom, finally. And from then on, Levi chose to put all of his faith on him and support his decisions, and so his individuality as a human, by giving him free will. He judged Eren’s character and found it trustworthy. Similarly, Eren had expectations towards Levi. On the contrary though, Eren’s were pretty high as Levi was Humanity’s Strongest and he had used to admire him a lot during his childhood and early teenage years. But when he met Levi, he soon understood that Levi wasn’t that perfect knight he always thought he were. But! He wasn’t disappointed either. Here’s an excerpt from Eren and Levi’s visual novel:

-the Wings of Freedom [on Levi’s back, when he saved Eren for the first time]. I love that after having had a glimpse of Levi’s true personality, Eren still thinks of him as the man that represents freedom. Maybe even more so. Now that he truly knows Levi, he consciously chooses to follow him, even if he’s brash, awkward, sometimes violent and a pretty strange man. He trusts Levi’s judgment, and wants to please his as much as Levi’s squad wanted, but now he’s not “blinded” by hero worship, he really looks up to Levi as a soldier and a person. Throughout the manga, this trust kept evolving, to the point that they soon became comrades. Eren’s not a tool to Levi. And Levi is not the unreachable and perfect hero of Eren’s childhood anymore. They finally know each other and, most importantly, they understand and fully accept the other. And here comes my second point.

The care. Levi undoubtedly cares for Eren, there are uncountable panels in the manga that shows his caring side towards his comrades, but particularly towards Eren. He worries about Eren’s physical and mental state, to the point he’s one of the few characters that always notices when there’s something wrong with him. Even though he’s known Eren for a very short period of time. This just shows that Levi is used to care for others, because, well, against popular opinion, he is not heartless nor does he care only about a selected few. His heart is big. So it’s not a surprise that he starts caring about Eren. Does Eren care about Levi, too? Well. “Captain Levi” is shown to be on his mind during critical situations, so it’s safe to assume he does.

The same happens to Levi, though. “Is Eren alright?” seems to be always on Levi’s mind when he knows Eren is stressed out or in a dangerous situation.

Moreover, he’s always observing Eren, and it’s not because he doesn’t trust him not to turn suddenly into a titan (the most recent evidence is that smartpass au story where he says that he’s making Eren sleep in the dungeon just for appearances, but there are other examples in the manga too, since those early Levi’s Squad days). I believe in the beginning he kept looking at Eren so intensely because he wanted to make sure his gut instinct to trust Eren wasn’t deceiving him and so he focussed on Eren to accurately judge his character+true intentions. Then he started to care. Since after the Female Titan arc, he’s been watching Eren to make sure he’s alright, maybe even before that…

The line is blurred, he doesn’t know exactly when he started caring (and neither do I) but he does.

And finally, the potential between them. I’m obviously basing all of my musings just on those three months they spent together (so 80ish chapters?), because I still don’t know how their relationship has changed since Shiganshina (and no, the ocean scene doesn’t really count because the characters barely interacted there). But, Eren and Levi understand each others pretty well. Their relationship kept evolving and subtly changing, they became more and more comfortable around one another. Levi cares for Eren and Eren adores and admires Levi in a genuinely unbiased way, now. They had their big fight during serumbowl, but their connection had not succumbed to that violence, it was stronger than that, in my opinion. They didn’t have a fall out, didn’t reach a breaking point. Levi still cared about Eren enough to ask Hange to give him a break and to free him from his punishment. Eren still cares about what Levi taught him and still respects him enough to feel guilty about his rash actions. If the happenings of serumbowl really had dealt a permanent damage to their relationship, I doubt Levi would have spared Eren and Mikasa from prison AND ruffled their hair, and certainly they wouldn’t have gone to the ocean together.

So, my point is, with all of this being said, I love that they potentially would be a good, caring couple, if they didn’t leave in such a violent world (but because of this, we can appreciate the soft moments between them even more!). I love all the more or less subtle hints (not the right words, more like “nudges”) given in interviews, like Levi thinking that Eren’s the best at cleaning (which is really important to him); that Levi doesn’t like women but “tall people”; that Eren can grow following in Levi’s steps; that Levi and Eren are the symbols of the Wings of Freedom; Humanity’s Last Hope and Humanity’s Strongest. They’re united in the responsibilities that are burdening them and I like to think that together they could be stronger (in every way, because Levi always seems to strengthen Eren’s resolve, much like Levi would be even more stronger fighting alongside Eren, a thing I hope to see in future chapters), one the immovable pillar for the other, both the hope for their objectives and dreams to become true.

#I'm so sorry this spiraled out of control while I was writing it #hope it's not too boring #ereri #I feel like I've exhausted myself on the argument but every time I start writing about them new endearing things come to my mind and yeah #this is what happens ugh sorry #snk #mine #ereri meta #shingeki asks

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athina39 · 7 years

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home is where the heart is [ch9, excerpt]

i got a request to write out what i’ve got so far for ch9 for home is where the heart is, so here goes!

i only have the part below written out so far... (also, can you believe that fic is nearly at 30k already wtf why is it so longgg)

October brings an even harsher bite to the air, so Chuuya’s glad for the respite from the coldest autumn in recent history when he ducks inside the coffee shop two blocks away from his apartment.

There’s a picnic of sorts a few hours from now – members from both the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency attending in a show of camaraderie – and he’s not entirely sure how he got volunteered to help make the food, and more importantly, how he only got informed just an hour before.

(“No need to make anything fancy, I’ll gladly eat your sandwiches!”, Dazai had said as soon as he had dressed him in a warm bundle of coats.

“You’ll eat anything,” Chuuya had replied then, too sleepy for even the easiest perfunctory objection to being manhandled out of his own apartment so they could complete some last-minute grocery shopping for picnic-friendly food.)

And now Dazai’s somewhere out there, trailing after him, lugging the bags of groceries around with his stupidly skinny arms because it’s his fault he forgot to tell Chuuya that he’s signed them up for food duty.

Serves him right.

“Oh, you’re – Chuuya-san, right?” The cashier smiles sunnily at him, too cheerful for the cold Saturday morning. He looks down at his clothes – nope, no nametags on his person – then pats at his head – nope, no post-its on his face. She reads his panic about her knowing him by name and laughs cheerily. “No, I’m sorry, that was too forward of me. It’s just that – when your partner orders coffee for you, he always talks about you, you know? And he’s shown us your pictures too. He’s very proud of you.”

“Uh.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says very sincerely. “Did you want to try our newest blend? We’ve received some great beans from Indonesia yesterday.”

He has a feeling that she – and the entire staff – knows about his favorite blends already, but she’s trying to be polite and not admit that she knows that bastard’s order by heart already.

Still – it’s not her fault that Dazai’s mouth is the exact opposite of unflappable. “Right. That sounds great. And do you still have some of your Guatemalan beans?”

“Dazai-san always reserves an order for those, it’s fairly popular.” The café is cozy chic, but the expensive prices and exotic blends make them appealing to a certain set of clientele only. It’s not a wildly popular store with a noisy bustling crowd – and he’s usually thankful of such an environment, but he’s almost hoping for a commotion to distract him from this conversation. “He mentioned about you favoring it over all our other beans.”

“It’s great. Delicious.”

“We’re glad to hear that. Here you go, Chuuya-san.” She hands him his order, along with another paper bag of something he definitely didn’t order. “There’s some bagels there for you too – you like the one with cream cheese, right? And some of the scones Dazai-san always orders.”

It’s just because of the months of repeat orders.

It’s just because Dazai probably charmed the hell out of everyone here.

It’s just because of that, because there’s no other reason for her to smile knowingly at him, almost forgiving that he forgot buying their usual breakfast.

He ducks his head and leaves her with a \10,000 tip, because she seems like a nice, hardworking girl who deserves it from being inflicted with Dazai’s blubbering. And because he won’t have a chance to give her another tip ever, because he’s going to die of embarrassment. After he guts that bastard, that is.

And because he’s got amazing luck (‘great misfortune’, proclaimed during his New Year’s shrine visit) – the moment he escapes from the too-warm café, he nearly bowls against Dazai. For a moment, he’s annoyed at himself for having incredible balance, because the only way this morning could be salvaged is if he poured piping hot coffee right into the jerk’s face.

Dazai waves at the café, the clear windows ensuring that his greeting isn’t missed by the staff inside. “I see you met Yuri-chan. Did you have a nice chat? She’s probably the only other person aside from you who actually likes hats.”

“We didn’t manage to discuss that, I was too busy being horrified.”

“Eh? Did something happen?” Somehow, Dazai managed to negotiate the nearly-overflowing groceries into manageable bags. There’s a strain on his shoulders as he carries them, but it’s nearly unnoticeable. He can almost pretend that his arms aren’t too scrawny.

“You happened, damn it.” Chuuya walks briskly ahead, but Dazai’s longer legs make it easier for him to catch up.

“Ah, then it’s a good development.”

“It isn’t. I can’t show my face there ever again.”

“I’d make sure to show them more recent photos of you so they won’t be deprived of their Chuuya experience.”

“Urgh. Please don’t. What do you even tell them about me?”

“A shorty who’s definitely not a morning person,” Dazai says with a laugh, easily dodging the kick that Chuuya attempts to connect against his shin. “Hair sticking up in all directions and with a stupid morning breath, too.”

“There’s no such thing as a stupid morning breath, what the hell.”

“I get to experience it first-hand so I get to have a say on it.”

“Stop experiencing it then, asshole.” Chuuya huffs and decides to pity the idiot’s arms. Plus, there are eggs there and he’s not about to make the trip back to the grocery store because Dazai wasted them. “Give me one of the bags.”

“Just one? Take them all, Chuuya, they’re heavy.”

“It’s your punishment for not telling me about this ahead of time.”

“You went drinking with Yosano-san the past three nights, I didn’t get the chance!”

“You couldn’t have left me a note?!” Chuuya glares at the other’s shrug. “Or sent me a message?!”

“I was planning to doodle it on your face…”

“Don’t leave me a note ever, urgh.”

“Come on, I was going to use a washable marker.”

“Somehow I don’t trust that,” Chuuya remarks dryly, but helps keep the door open as they arrive at his apartment. Again, he’d rather slam the door on the bastard’s face, but groceries.

“I’m so hurt, Chuuya.” Dazai makes a mock-hurt expression that looks so fake Chuuya rolls his eyes in derision. “And so proud of you, you’re right, I’d have used a permanent marker. And probably doodled unflattering designs too.”

“I’m starting to think you’d rather not reach the picnic alive, Dazai Osamu.”

“Ooh, dark and serious.” Dazai makes a show of fanning himself after he sets the groceries down on the kitchen counter. “How would you try to take me down then, Nakahara Chuuya?”

“I’d bash your head in on my kitchen sink.”

“Eh, I prepared some trout there last night. It feels a bit unsanitary.”

“I’m going to kill you, not ask for your preferred murder scenario.” Chuuya frowns at the other’s complaint though. “Also, clean my sink up properly, damn it.”

“Maybe you can push me off the window? I bet the air feels nice flying down.”

“And what, give you a free skyboarding pass?” Chuuya adjusts his gloves then rolls his sleeves up. Dazai’s adjusting the room thermostat, fiddling with his own apron tie. “Also, my window’s bulletproof.”

“I’m sure you can find a way.”

“You’d drag me down with you, no thanks.”

“Don’t you think it’s a nice way to go? I’d make sure to hold on to you real tight.”

“I’d rather you don’t, you jerk.” The annoying thing is that it’s something that they’ve both tried before – Chuuya bashing Dazai’s head against his previous four-by-four tatami mat room’s wobbly sink; Dazai getting kicked out of a window and him subsequently dragging Chuuya with him on the way down, before shoving him to the ground first, Corruption activating in the nick of time. “Why are we even talking about this?”

“You were going to stop me from showing up on the picnic.”

“Urgh. We only have a few hours – start molding the meatballs, will you?” He’s already preparing to boil water for the pasta. Some pasta, some grilled fingerfood, some sandwiches. Maybe a few pitchers of detox water, because subsisting on soda is gross. “Would your colleagues prefer wine or beer?”

“You’ve dated most of them, you should know by now, right?”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have counted on you providing an actual answer. You got the meatballs?”

“Uh-huh. I’ll make them small enough so your tiny hands can hold them properly.”

“My hands aren’t tiny, fucker.” Chuuya pokes Dazai’s neck with one uncooked spaghetti strand. “Watch the pasta, I’ll set up the travel cooler for the drinks.”

“Pack your Glenfiddich for me?”

“I’m—I’m not going to bring a 40-year old Scotch for you! On a—on a picnic!”

Dazai hums, unimpressed. “You’re fine with letting your colleagues have your Boerl & Kroff Brut.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have quit the Port Mafia then, huh?”

—Ah, shit.

He shouldn’t have. He really shouldn’t have.

“I’ll even trade you – I bought you the bottle of Egon Muller-Scharzhof Scharzhofberger Riesling Trockenbeerenauslese you requested, after all.”

—so Dazai’s ignoring his slip. Fine, he can work with that.

“I didn’t see any unfamiliar charges on my card. How did you manage to hide it from me?”

“I used my own, duh.”

“If you have a card – why don’t you ever use it then?!”

“Silly Chuuya, are you deaf? I said I used it already.”

“Why don’t you use it to buy the rest of your shit?!”

“Mm, it’s fun to see your reaction!” Dazai’s hands are a bit red from the mix of ground meat, tomatoes and some other spices. “Plus, you use them anyway, right?”

“Because you bought them using my money already!”

“Chuuya, your pasta – did you not want to cook them al dente?”

“Fuck—!” Chuuya hastily stores the bottles of wine inside the cooler, because proper temperatures and all are important in shaping how the wine will taste once opened. “Also, if that’s the case, then how much was the suit from last week? I’ll pay you back.”

“I forgot already.”

“It’s Alexander Amosu – it’s at least $90,000!”

“I threw away the receipts~~~♫”

“Urgh.”

“It’s a gift, midget. Don’t be rude about it.”

“URGH.”

#athina writes fic #home is where the heart is #soukoku #WIP chapter

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themonkeycabal · 7 years

Note

If you haven't already could you write something about Tony reading some of the letters Howard sent? Thnx.

Hi! Sorry my reply is late here. But, I don’t think I’ll be writing a specific story with the letters, but the letters will come up, and we’ll probably see excerpts. So, yes, eventually, my plan is there will be such a thing as you are requesting. Just, not quite yet, for reasons. ;)

It might be something like this:

The Garage was empty.

Well, the main floor of the garage was empty, anyway. Except for two cars, three motorcycles, a desk, three chairs, a pair of short, wooden filing cabinets, and a long row of metal shelves. There was a large tool kit for working on the cars, and one of the metal shelves had been repurposed to hold parts.

So, okay, it wasn’t exactly, perfectly empty. But, with the decades of crates moved out, the space felt a little cavernous.

Darcy sat at the desk, her feet up on the cracked leather blotter, kicking her toes together in an absent rhythm.

There was something heavier in the Garage, though, despite its apparent emptiness. And she didn’t mean the super-secret base beneath.

The below-ground base was sort of rectangular, stretching out back away from the street side, to under a grassy lot behind the building. Operations, the elevators and stairs of the main entrance, along with a handful of side offices were the front third. Labs and workshops occupied the middle third, and the far end were a few bunkrooms and the stairs to yet another, lower level. The main engineering works of the base were down there — water, sanitation, air, plus storage, and an emergency exit out to tunnel to a hidden, fake water pipe in an alley four blocks away.

It wasn’t a facility meant for a big crew. Maybe it could house 12 to 15 people all together for a few weeks. If they really, really liked each other.

She and Tony spent a number of daddy/daughter date nights upgrading, tearing out and replacing environmental systems, rewiring for a proper network, pulling fiber, and in general, making the secret base operational. For what, who knew.

While Darcy questioned the degree of her own paranoia at having a double secret hidey-hole, it was also really cool. Like a private treehouse. She and Rico always planned to have one, but neither of them had yards with trees big enough. It was a crushing realization to their 10-year old selves. Now … all this.

She’d have to actually remember to tell Rico, though.

Nobody knew the Garage existed except Tony, Bucky, Steve, and Peggy. And only Tony knew where it was. He liked that part.

So, he didn’t need to know she invited Bucky by today. But, her invitation had a purpose and she wasn’t sure how he’d take it. Not that it was bad, necessarily. Maybe.

It might not have been a big, elaborate structure, like the Playground, but there was still plenty to explore. When going through some of the side rooms, Darcy came across one full of furniture. Just desks, chairs, and some bunks, really. But off to one side was a footlocker and a large canvas bag. Atop the footlocker sat a folded piece of paper with her name on it; Darcy recognized Howard’s handwriting immediately.

April 29, 1970

My darling D,

I had the strangest conversation with Peggy a few weeks ago.

Maria was out at some art luncheon, the nanny was off sick, and I got stuck with Tony. I hope he grows out of it, but if you didn’t know, your father is a screamer. Peg was trying to distract him with a truck, and out of the blue, she asked if I knew what happened to Bucky Barnes’s things. If we’d given them to his sister, or what.

Well, I recall trying to pass them on to Miss Barnes years ago. She took a few things, small keepsakes — one of his watches, his brass compass, his flag, a medal or two, I think — but his old uniforms and such, that hurt too much, she said and she didn’t have the space to treat them right. She asked me to keep it all with Steve’s things, thinking maybe some day we’d put it all together in a display.

I told Peggy that and she insisted I pull Sgt. Barnes’s locker and duffle and set them aside for you; that you’d appreciate it. She wouldn’t say why, but she was pretty damned pushy about it; you know how she gets. I suppose maybe you two talked about him all those years ago. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to know him; he was a good fellow and a hell of a shot. I was working on a rifle for him when we lost him. Damned shame.

I hope you appreciate these, and just so you know, I’m breaking up the collection here. But since the collection’s all going to you anyway, I guess you can get this where it belongs.

Make sure people remember, sweetheart. I’ve done my best to keep their memories alive, and now I’m trusting them to you. Don’t let them be forgotten.

All my love,HS

As ever, when she found one of these messages from Howard, she had to take a few minutes to breathe through it. She really did miss him.

Then she growled a little, because, he loved to issue his orders. It was sweet at first, but then every subsequent letter had some sort of little command or directive in it, and now she kind of wanted to throw things at him. But, of course, he was dead, so she couldn’t, and he’d probably known that, and basically, even after death, he was kind of a jerk.

Do this, do that, family legacy, blah blah blah. “I love you Howard, but shut up.”

Once she got past that little emotional whirlwind, she lugged the trunk and the bag out of the room and up to the ground floor. Then she called Bucky and gave him directions to the garage. And now she was waiting and staring at the trunk.

She was very tempted to open it all up. What would she find? Dirty laundry? Hopefully not — 70 years of stank? Gross, pass. Girlie mags? That would be hilarious, and she would give him so much crap. Would there be books? The trunk was heavy enough. Old letters from a sweetheart or two? He was popular with the ladies, back in the day, everybody knew that. Did they send him little notes with lipstick kisses and a spritz of perfume?

What would Bucky Barnes carry off to war with him? And what would he keep once there?

#my fic #darcy lewis #tony stark #howard stark #bucky barnes #thededleadragoria #fic bit

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writinggeisha · 5 years

Link

Chapter 3: Reader Question : Description

Hey guys, (just a heads up, for a quick summary of tips you can just skip to the end of the chapter!)

In chapter three of 'oh my gods I can't believe you're actually reading something I once wrote when seriously sleep deprived' we are going to discuss how you can make descriptions work for you. I got this nifty question right here from a guest named Celeste :

First off im kind of making a 'crack' ship of two of my OCs. My problems are like when should I stop describing them? I tend to go on and on about it. Ive already decided to leave out some characters and have a bit of a storyline. Its just I need to know when to stop.

Also, terribly sorry Celeste but seeing as how you were on guest I couldn't really reach you other than posting a new chapter in this guide. I really do hope that you'll see this eventually.

Okay, so I can hear you thinking : weren't you like, the person who told us that excessive descriptions are bad? Well yeah, I was but I was mostly talking about wardrobe (and I'm also an idiot who does very little physical description in her own work but hush). Doesn't mean you can't make it work for you. If you are a bit of description nut it can be hard to kick the habit. Instead of going cold turkey you can use the stuff you are describing to show how your characters function, something which works great when working with Original Characters. I'm going to be level with you all, usually I describe my characters as little as possible. I mean, I drop clues every once in a while but I'm all about the action and plot. This doesn't mean I can't help you however.

The first thing what you do is know what your character looks like, something which Celeste has already done. Then you decide which elements are important and how you will introduce them. Note that the how is very important here because some tropes have been done so often they get boring. The trope you'll really want to avoid when describing characters is your character describing themselves. You know what I mean, they'll be looking in the mirror and start listing of traits.

Stop.

The problem with this is that it will practically always push you in two categories of characters. The vain or the I'm actually pretty but I don't see it myself.

The problem with a vain character is fairly simple. As people we generally don't tend to like others who are too self-absorbed. If a person looks in a mirror and all they see is how perfect the arch of their lips is and how their cheekbones catch the light so beautifully, we'll roll our eyes and be like 'sure babe'. On the other side of the spectrum is the character that is actually quite pretty but they themselves don't notice it. You would think this is a personality upgrade, and in some ways it is. But seriously? This trope again? Not to mention this is also the kind of person who deflects every compliment aimed at them. This reeks of false modesty, and there is no shame in admitting someone is at least decent to look at. You'll want to aim for a middle ground, and truth be told, it's very hard to hit the sweet spot. I suggest staying away from mirrors on the whole. (not you as a person of course. I mean, I check the mirror as well to see if my hair is in place or if I managed to spill sauce over my clothes. That's what they are for. That and checking my eyebrow game. But I digress.)

Avoid the information dump. That is where you get aaaaaaall of the information about a character in one paragraph. It's age and height and weight and color preferences and food preferences and what sort of people they like, but also their clothing preference and... do you get tired from imagining having to say all of that the first time you meet someone? I probably mentioned this before but try spreading information out in the story by mixing it in with your narrative. And instead of giving exact heights, give their height relevant to other characters (though it doesn't hurt to know the exact measurements yourself, your audience just doesn't need to know).

Honestly speaking, Celeste, we never stop giving information about our characters. The point is to do it subtly. There is also a difference between describing them and characterisation (something which quite often gets confused).

When you say you can't stop describing your characters, I imagine you're talking about the clothes and their physical appearance. Which raises the question, how peculiar looking are they? Let's take a look at one of the more popular books of our time, good ol' Harry Potter (belonging to JK Rowling). This is how Harry is first described in the books.

"Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape, " [book 1, chapter 2]

If you think that is sparse, try on Ron for size. "He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose." [book 1, chapter 6] (they're not even mentioning that he's a redhead!)

And to finish up, here's Hermione.

She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth. [book 1, chapter 6]

These are the primary descriptions, something for your audience to hold on to while they are waiting for more information. During the story we get to know more about them but this is the first introduction. During a first introduction you want to give the audience what an average person would see when someone passes by on the street. When someone walks by we'll usually notice these things : color of clothing or lack of color and any distinct facial characteristics like beards or tattoos or whatever. After that, on closer inspection comes eyebrows and the like, maybe shoes. And only after that comes the really detailed stuff, like a weird ring or an odd button on their coat. Their conversation partner might only notice those things while they're having a cup of coffee two hours later. Which is good, because those details also signify new things about the other character. That punk rock fan might be wearing a Hello Kitty wrist watch, but you only see it from a certain angle. The serious looking secretary actually has multiple ear piercings, but the way she wears her hair makes it so you can only see it when it's in an updo.

What you do want to do is making sure you're giving the information at an appropriate time. When two people are discussing politics it doesn't make much sense for the conversation partner to suddenly compliment someone on their shoes (thanks, they're new!), but they will notice when someone else is wearing a pride badge or something like that (omg I just said something insulting and now I probably pissed them off). When two teens are talking they're most likely to notice things that signify common interests (I totally love that band and you're wearing their t-shirt?).

When your characters have known each other for a longer time, they'll notice other things about each other. A character can comment on a difference in looks or the lack of difference (this is the first time I've ever seen you wear an orange shirt! Why are you wearing cargo pants in this weather? You're wearing that Puka shirt again?) . When they're observing the other character they might think stuff like 'I wish my hair was so curly! or If there's one guy who manages to make unwashed shirts look cool it's him'.

You know what a really cool trick is? Characterisation through description.

By now you know your characters. I mean, like really know them. A is pretty uptight and prissy while B never gets enough sleep but does know how to cook really well. Just like how you can tell a lot about people by how they dress (or at least you think you can) you can do the same for characters. The uptight character might have a preference for fancy sweaters and there's hardly ever a crinkle in them, which shows others that she takes good care of them. Character B is often seen with a mug of coffee and food stains on his pants because he always forgets to put on an apron. The secretary has fiery red nails, which could be an indicator of her personality. The girl who wears her hair in a messy bun might either be a real fashionista (have you ever tried it? I fail every time T.T) or she's always in a hurry because she's a chronic oversleeper, meaning she doesn't have the time for anything fancy. The boy with the bag full of books obviously likes reading while the bandaids on his fingers indicate he's a bit of a klutz. The jock who's an ace at basketball is never seen without a lollipop, indicating quite the sweet tooth. Her girlfriend on the other hand is usually seen with remnants of flour in her hair because she bakes cookies every day.

What I'm trying to say is, you can keep adding description to your characters. But don't dump all the info on your readers in one go, and don't mention things that wouldn't make sense in the context. If you feel like taking it to the next level you can add details to hint at character traits that aren't mentioned straight out.

Quick cheat sheet :

Information dumps = big no no Character describing themselves should be avoided if possible Character description and details vary by conversation partners and situation. Different people notice different things Use details to hint at character traits (bandaids could mean klutzy, but also just good at sports or they often defend friends from bullies)

If there's any other questions you may have, or if you'd like a reference excerpt, just ask ^^ I'm happy if this helps even one person.

Also, remember that this is just my own way of doing things. Some of it may not work for you, and that's okay. Writers all grow in different ways and at different paces. Only you can write like you were meant to do.

#advice #tools #links

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thesassybooskter · 6 years

Text

COULDN'T ASK FOR MORE by Kianna Alexander: Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway

AVAILABLE OCTOBER 2ND 2018 / SOURCEBOOKS CASABLANCA

Fake engagements are a dangerous business.

Bryan James’s job is on thin ice unless he can secure a contract with a popular design house. He knows his best friend’s sister can help—but her terms are more than he bargained for.

Alexis Devers’s debut fashion line is a hit. But when Alexis’s publicist tells buyers that it landed her a wealthy, gorgeous fiancé, Alexis needs to come up with one—fast. Bryan’s offer to strike a deal is perfectly timed. She’s more than willing—on one condition…

It’s the perfect plan…until feelings start getting in the way. Suddenly, the dangers of mixing business and pleasure become much more real than either of them expected.

Buy Online: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks

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Excerpt

Taking a moment to compose himself, he followed her down the hall. He always gave himself something of a silent pep talk before a presentation, but that tradition was quickly quashed as his eyes landed on her shapely backside moving a few feet in front of him. There wasn’t much else he could do but take in her magnificent “rear view.”

He inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent. She smelled of citrus and flowers, clean and enticing. The confines of the hallway seemed to magnify the fragrance. The scent was familiar and comforting, like the refreshing scent that hung in the air after a spring rain. He smiled at the thought. He hadn’t spent much time with her yet. But being in her presence seemed to refresh him as well.

They entered her office, where the pastel theme continued. Instead of modern art, though, framed sketches were displayed on the walls of the space.

She gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat.”

He did as she walked around to the other side of the desk to claim her own seat. Still admiring the sketches, he asked, “Did you do all of those?”

She nodded. “I did. Sydney, my partner, has some sketches up in her office as well.”

“They’re very impressive. You’re a talented designer.” Bryan’s eyes swept over the sketches once more before returning to her face. “You look skeptical.”

“You did come here to make a pitch, so…” She paused, gave a little shrug of her delicate shoulders. “Let’s just say I’m a little jaded.”

“Trust me. I wouldn’t have complimented you if I didn’t mean it.” He held her gaze a few beats, hoping his expression would communicate his seriousness. If they were in a different setting, he’d be complimenting more than just her skills as a designer.

A ghost of a smile lit her beautiful face. “Thank you.”

He slung the briefcase onto his lap, opening it. “I know you’ve got other things to do, so do you mind if I go ahead with my presentation?”

She shook her head. “I don’t mind. Go right ahead.”

He cleared his throat, loosened the Windsor knot in his tie. “Let me start by telling you that Royal Textiles is the largest, most efficient clothing textile manufacturer in the southeastern United States. What sets us apart from our competitors is our dedication to excellence.”

She nodded. “How so?”

“We don’t make rugs and curtains and tents. Our sole focus is on apparel manufacturing, and we put our absolute best into it. We have only the most state-of-the-art equipment and the most highly trained technicians working on our factory floor.” He handed over the materials he’d brought, two brochures and a full color booklet, for her to peruse. “You should also know that we’ve been honored for quality by both the American Council of Textile Production and the International Apparel Society.”

“I’m impressed.” She looked through the material, addressing him as her eyes scanned the glossy paper. Her expression was difficult to read. “Okay. So tell me about the most recent apparel line your company has acquired a production contract for.”

He straightened in his seat, holding eye contact with her. “We recently started manufacturing J. Cole’s denim line. The first pairs of jeans rolled off the line in the past two weeks.”

Her lips curved, and she appeared impressed. “Sounds good. There isn’t any denim in the Krystal Kouture One line.”

“I know. I’ve seen the designs.”

One perfectly shaped brow lifted. “And how is that? My partner only sent out promotional items to the retailers.”

“I have connections in retail. A friend of a friend let me take a look at your materials.” He leaned back, tenting his fingers. They’d reached the juncture of his pitch where he needed to appear casual but still show that he was serious about closing the deal. “Like I said, I think you have a lot of talent. As a textiles guy, I’m also mindful of how regional weather patterns can affect buyer expectations, especially in women’s wear. You have a good variety of pieces, and they’re sized right as well. I can see the appeal of your line for women all over the country.”

Closing the booklet, she set it aside. Lacing her graceful fingers, she placed her hands on the top of her desk. “I see you’ve done your homework. And I’m impressed with everything you’ve shown me.” She gestured to the stack of paper he’d given her.

A smile crossed his lips, and he clapped his hands together. Reaching into the open briefcase, he started to extract a preliminary agreement. “Wonderful. To get started, all I’ll need is for you to fill this out.”

She blinked a few times. “I’m sorry, I think you misunderstood me. I’m impressed, and everything looks good. But I have to take this up with my partner. I’m not going to make a decision, especially not one as major as this, without speaking to Sydney first.”

He tucked the agreement back inside, snapped the briefcase shut. “I understand completely.” Inside, he could feel the disappointment welling up inside him. He’d expected to win Alexis over with his brilliant presentation and return to the office with a signed agreement. Now, he’d have to go back empty-handed. While that wasn’t the outcome he’d hoped for, he did respect Alexis’s regard for her business partner. They were obviously a tightly knit unit, and he could see that reflected in Alexis’s manner and her words.

“We’ll get back to you with our decision by Monday at the latest.” She let her gaze travel over his upper body, then back to his eyes. “Is that acceptable?”

“That’s fine.” This time, his brow hitched. Was she just checking me out?

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About Kianna Alexander

Like any good Southern belle, Kianna Alexander wears many hats: loving wife, doting mama, advice-dispensing sister, and gabbing girlfriend. She's a voracious reader, history nerd and craft fanatic. Kianna lives in North Carolina with her husband, two kids, and a collection of well-loved vintage 80's Barbie dolls.

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COULDN’T ASK FOR MORE by Kianna Alexander: Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway was originally published on The Sassy Bookster

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A Touch of Love (The Grays of Los Angeles) by Sheryl Lister: http://amzn.to/2xM4eQV

Lexia Daniels can’t deny that her café’s most loyal customer is as tempting as any of the delicious treats she bakes. Burned by a bitter divorce, she tries to keep her desire in check around Khalil Gray, but the gorgeous ex-model is intent on seduction. Then a devastating accident reveals the complicated man behind the perfectly sculpted body… A man she can’t seem to resist.

At first, Khalil sees Lexia as a sexy challenge. But after an explosion shatters his world, she becomes the only person he can’t seem to push away. And every sign around him is telling him he needs her close. Khalil is happy to explore their erotic chemistry as long as it means resisting real emotion. But playing by his old rules could cost him the love he never thought he’d find…

Excerpt: A Touch of Love by Sheryl Lister

Chapter 1

“What the hell do you mean they were charged twice?” Khalil Gray stopped in his tracks. He met the disapproving glare of a grandmotherly woman and offered up a tight smile. Lowering his voice, he repeated the question.

“I have no idea,” Felicia McBride answered. The twenty-six year-old college student worked as the assistant manager at his fitness center, Maximum Burn. “There’ve been four calls since you left with members saying their accounts were debited twice this month. They’ve already been corrected, but I have no idea why it happened in the first place.”

He ran an agitated hand down his face. “Thanks, Felicia. I’ll check it out when I get back.”

He ended the call, still trying to figure out what was going on. He had owned the gym for five years and never had a problem before. Khalil continued through the lobby toward the elevators and jabbed the button with more force than necessary. He toyed with stopping in Oasis Café for his favorite low-fat apple cinnamon coffee cake, but because of traffic and construction across from the Wilshire District office building, he was already fifteen minutes late for the Wednesday morning staff meeting at his family’s home safety company. The elevator doors opened and he stepped back to allow the stream of people exit before boarding and riding the car up to the sixth floor.

Khalil greeted the receptionist and walked briskly down the hallway to the large conference room. He slid into a vacant seat and turned his attention to what his older brother, Brandon was saying. Brandon had taken over as CEO of the company nine months ago. Their father, Nolan Gray, had started the company upon his discharge from the Army after being disheartened by the difficulty in getting services and accommodations for the disabled. He’d decided to do something about it by designing them himself.

Their father’s best friend, Thaddeus Whitcomb—who had lost the lower part of his leg while serving—joined the company as a minor partner and vice president. The two men had a long-standing agreement that there would always be a Gray at the helm as CEO and a Whitcomb as vice president. Currently, only Brandon and their older sister, Siobhan, worked for the company. He listened as each department gave updates. After the last person finished, Brandon directed his attention to Khalil. “Khalil, you’re still going to be meeting with production about your equipment, right?” Khalil nodded.

“Next week. The second gym is scheduled to open in June and I don’t want any delays.” They had broken ground a year ago on the now three-level center and the building would be completed in four weeks, barring any problems. He wanted all the equipment to be ready for installation.

“So, roughly three months until opening day. Let me know if you run into any difficulties. Is there anything else?” Khalil glanced at the wall clock. It was almost eleven. Any hope he had of getting that coffee cake dissipated. When no one spoke, he pushed the chair from the table and started to stand.

“I have one quick thing.” He dropped back into his seat and groaned inwardly. He loved his sister-in-law, but couldn’t she table her comments until the next meeting? Brandon had met Faith Alexander when he’d come to her rescue after a car accident. Unbeknownst to either of them, Faith was the long lost daughter of Thaddeus Whitcomb, and rightful heir to the VP position. Uncle Thad, as they affectionately called him, had been looking for his daughter for twenty-eight years after his wife divorced him.

Khalil smiled inwardly remembering all the fireworks that followed when Brandon found out the woman he had rescued and begun dating was actually going to be his second-in-command. Brandon hadn’t been too happy since he’d grown up thinking he would head the company alone—a fact that Brandon had reiterated several times. Things had worked out between Brandon and Faith and they had married six weeks ago. Khalil tuned back into Faith discussing the new intern program. It gave him an idea about doing something similar at the gym. A few minutes later, the meeting ended.

“Hey, Khalil. I want to talk to you before you leave.” He shot a glare at Brandon. Another five minutes passed before his brother made it over to where Khalil stood impatiently waiting.

“Why are you frowning at me like that?” Brandon asked.

“Because it’s after eleven and my coffee cake is probably gone by now.” He strode out of the conference room, leaving Brandon to follow. “If you want to talk, we need to do in on the way downstairs.” Brandon chuckled.

“Weren’t you grumbling about that three weeks ago when you were here?” He pushed the down button on the elevator. Khalil only attended the weekly staff meeting when he had something on the agenda.

“Yeah, and you’d better hope it’s not all gone again. Dad’s staff meetings never ran this long. You’re taking this CEO thing way too far.”

“Well, we have two new products in the design phase and have to finalize plans for our interns who’ll be starting soon, so there’s a lot to discuss.”

When the elevator arrived, they joined four other occupants and rode down to the first floor without speaking. As soon as the doors opened, Khalil hurried across the lobby to Oasis Café. The only things left in the display case in the spot where the coffee cake usually sat were the tipped over sign and crumbs. Behind him, Brandon laughed softly. “Guess you’ll have to get here early next time.” Before he could tell his brother where to go, a tall, pretty woman approached.

“Good morning. Table for two?” She reached for menus.

“No, thank you.” Khalil pointed to the glass case. “Do you have any more of the low fat apple cinnamon coffee cake?”

“Sorry. We sold the last piece about an hour ago.” She chuckled. “It’s our most popular item and it goes fast. We still have some other pastries you can choose from.” He frowned. He didn’t want any of those sugar-laden sweets. After spending over a decade in the modeling and fitness business, he was very selective about what went into his body. The only allowances he made were family dinners. His mother could throw down in the kitchen and he looked forward to the monthly get-togethers. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” She smiled. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Yes, I’ll take…” Khalil trailed off when a woman wearing an apron came from the back and placed a plate on the counter. A wide headband held her thick, wavy natural hair back, and she had flawless skin, wide dark brown eyes and lush lips, all set in an exquisite mocha face. “I saw you this morning and knew you’d be in. You’re later than usual,” she said. The deep, throaty sound of her voice caught him off guard and sent a jolt to his midsection. Khalil sent a scathing look over his shoulder at Brandon then smiled, reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.

“This is the best thing that has happened to me lately and I just may have to ask for your hand in marriage lovely lady.”

Her brow lifted and she gave him a sassy smile. “Sorry, but I only accept marriage proposals from men whose name I know.”

His grin widened. “Is that right?” Was she flirting with him? She tried to pull her hand back, but he didn’t let go. “Then let me introduce myself. Khalil Gray. And you are?” Staring at him, she said softly, “Lexia. Lexia Daniels.”

“So, Lexia Daniels, exactly how long do we need to know each other before you say yes to my proposal?” Lexia shook her head and gently, but firmly withdrew her hand. “I need to get back to work.” She placed a cup on the counter, along with a Decaf Vanilla Chai tea bag—his favorite.

“Enjoy your coffee cake and tea.” She turned and headed back the way she’d come.

“This should improve your mood some,” Brandon said.

“Mmm hmm.” Khalil had been here several times since the café reopened under new management almost two years ago and couldn’t recall ever seeing her. His gaze followed the sweet curve of her hips until she disappeared. The other woman smiled knowingly and rang up his purchases.

( Continued… )

Purchase A Touch of Love (The Grays of Los Angeles) by Sheryl Lister http://sheryllister.com/a-touch-of-love-the-grays-of-los-angeles-book-4/

About the Author SHERYL LISTER has enjoyed reading and writing for as long as she can remember. When she’s not reading, writing or playing chauffeur, Sheryl can be found on a date with her husband or in the kitchen creating appetizers and bite-sized desserts. She holds a B.S. in Occupational Therapy and post-professional M.S. in Occupational Therapy from San Jose State University. She resides in California and is a wife, mother of three and works as a pediatric occupational therapist.

A Touch Of Love by Sheryl Lister A Touch of Love (The Grays of Los Angeles) by Sheryl Lister: Lexia Daniels can’t deny that her café’s most loyal customer is as tempting as any of the delicious treats she bakes.

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