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laynemorgan · 3 years

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I'm sure you've already provided it, but I'd be curious to hear your road to becoming a staffed writer. What first got you interested in it? Does it go back to school days?

Man it goes back far. I mean, I guess in some ways it doesn't. Since you asked more about what got me interested in where it goes back to, I'll give you the lest technical and more biographicl explanatin. My first goal was just to become a writer. I've been writing since I was a really little kid. I actually recently found journals from like the elementary and middle school days just filled with them. And it was never small scale, I'd always be planning out the whole fucking setting, how all the characters were connected, full universes. I made a fake fantasy. land in my backyard because my parents live on a lot of land. I called it Teleterania. I remember very little about it besides that that was the name hahah but I did do it!!! Everything I read only made me want to write. Everything I watched made me want to write.

Sometime around late middle school and early high school, I started watching more TV. I found soap operas and was OBSESSSED with their flare for drama. I found BTVS, Charmed, Smallville, Veronica Mars, OTH, etc. And all of those shows really got me actually looking at TV in a way I had never before. I got obsessed with their worlds and into their fandoms. I became the liek TV guy in my high school. There was even a group of girls I never got to really hang out with that would always call me over to their table to ask about what I knew about OTH stuff hahaha and 17 year old me thought that was awesome. Before my sister passed away, she and I took a road trip down to North Carolina to tour the One Tree Hill set. OTH was like the one thing that she and I agreed on. And it was so awesome. For me it was a first look at what the industry actually looked like, to see the sets and what went into it and all of that.

But I don't think my eyes really opened to actually WORKING in tv until college. I went to school for English Lit and Creative Writing in New Hampshire. My school had a great writing program and I was right at home there. i still credit my first writing professor who was only a grad student for really teaching me what I know about writing and editing and reading my own work for error and she passed me on to her favorite professor which was a hugely flattering moment for me. AND THEN -- I fell in love with PLL. And for me, that was really where shit started. I didn't realize it at the time and it wasn't even the show that did it it was what the show showed me. Through my tumblr at the time which had very little to do with fandom, I actually wound up running into Patrick Adams and Troian Bellisario. We all were always sharing each other's posts and at the time I was working for a journalist covering random TV out of a shitty free magazine in Boston doing work for peanuts. But I was going out to LA to meet up with a friend and we all decided to meet for lunch and they let me interview them for my magazine and stayed really rad people. They also helped boost my PLL photo recaps which I was doing at the time and those got the attention of the Director, Normal Buckley who asked me out to coffee and talked to me about my goals and what I was doing. He was the person who first really helped me understand that there's an approachability to the TV world that to me had always been this like magical hollywood bubble I didn't understand.

I went home THRILLED about LA, dropped out of college and set out to go to film school. From there, I hated film school because it was too technical adjacent, dropped out again, spent all the money I had on that move twice, and went home to boston broke and lost. I spent two years after that maybe more saving money, working in fandom, and waitressing while I went back to college online. That era wasn't super writing focused but it's where I found myself. I realized I was queer, I came out, I got into tumblr rpg, I met my fandom friends, I found tumblr fandom in a way I hadn't before. And then a couple years later I found tl100.

From there, the rest is kind of wonky. I had a big fan blog for the show and talked a lot about it on my twitter which lead me to many interactions with the writers who then invited me to dinner at comic con one year. I had a long talk with Shumway abut my goals and what I wanted to do with my life. I knew I wanted to be in TV somehow. I knew I wanted to be in writing somehow but I couldn't figure out how those two things aligned. I was doing a lot of journalism and critic stuff because that felt like the clsoest way to be both a fan and workin in the world I loved but it was really Kim and Shawna that opened my eyes to the ability to just .... be a TV writer. Film school had made me terrified of the wrtiing side but I think it was because film school was so much more about writing for film which I learned isn't my thing. But TV is a writers' medium, unlike film which is more fo a directors medium and suddenly I was like -- MIND BLOWN. It was everything I wanted in a career and married all of the things I loved. It was something that had previously felt like unattainable but they made it seem human and approachable.

They helped me get my first WPA job, I saved up 3 grand working and with the help of some friends and moved to LA to start that. And suddenly I was in a whirlwind of catching up on everything I felt like I had missed. I was reading scripts, learning what the process looked like, doing everything I coudl to figure out what being a TV writer looked like. After that job, I got another WPA job at Millar Gough on Into the Badlands and later Shannara.

THEN I got hired on Daybreak which I can fully credit with being a huge stepping stone for me and changing my life in a lot of ways. Aron was the best showrunner. He was educational and he taught us shit, he let us in the room, he let us write stuff, he let us pitch and try and fall on our faces and never judged us for it. My second season there he moved me up to writers assitant and patiently walked me through all the stuff I didn't know yet because he had faith in me and my voice and my ideas. He let me writ e afreelance episode that year and pitch it in the room and do all the things that real w riters get to do.

So after Daybreak season 2 got cancelled I was pretty ready to spend my next year or two just writing, finding an agent and moving forawrd. And then I got an email to go and work for Moira Walley Beckett. She was looking for an assistant with serious room experience to help develop something in a small room and stay on with her later. I took the job becuase she's MOIRA and I was stoked to learn from her and work for a woman for once. I ernded up very fortunate becuase a month later we were all surprised by the covid mess and I was fully employed that whole year while many people weren't which was a huge help. Moira was a STELLAR boss. I had thought I was ready and what she taught me was that ther's always so much more to learn. She walked me through the process of applying notes and taking notes and changing draft after draft of your story. SHe walked me through breaking a whole season of television. We had a great partnership for the year and I'm so grateful. And then that project didn't end up seeing hte light of day and we our separate ways as well.

Cut to a few months ago, I was still at home in Boston, post-covid, having been sick for most of january. My friend Rachel dared me to write a spec in a weekend for the Warner Bros fellowship deadline. So I did. It was a Legacies Spec. Given that we didn't have access to the WGA library because of the pandemic, Legacies was an easy and obvious choice. I had already seen it inside and out and didn't need as much access to learning a show from scratch. So I wrote what I loved, wrote a season 2 legacies spec that embraced my favorite things about legacies: the high school soap of one tree hill, Lizzie doing wild dialogue, buffy-esque monsters, and themes of grief and humanity.

AND THE REST you know.

Here we are. I'm still lost as fuck. I'm still running full speed through a world I don't always feel like I"m ready for. I'm still a perfectionist and an obsessive overworker. I still take notes I don't need to take and do work at 10pm and come in early and stare at the story boards. There's a whole journey in all of this about representation and coming to find myself and queer media and wanting to make more of it but that's one I don't feel like I can fully get into until I'm decades out of it and the world is truly made better. But I'm here. And it feels like the end of a journey and liek I'm standing at the edge of a brand new clif because I've only just started.

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okk--maaan · 4 years

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Bad Kitchen Dreams

Hi. This is very dumb. But I couldn’t help myself when @ellelaconi threw out a Pale Kitchen Nightmares AU. So here you go. Feel free to imagine him in a blonde Matt wig and chef’s coat with a British accent.

WC: ~1.7k (whoops)

CW: you’re a really bad chef, Pale degrading you because you’re such a bad chef, pussy eating, fingering, PIV, brief drug mention, OSHA violations

Pale has traveled all over the country doing this. Helping desperate restaurant owners resurrect their businesses from the ashes. But in his twenty years, he’s never seen a situation as dire as this. As dire as yours.

When he pulls up in his big black car, he can tell the restaurant isn’t open. “Who the fuck ain’t open at one o’clock in the afternoon? Fuckin’ bullshit,” he mutters to himself. And sure enough. When he tries the front door - locked. He bangs on the glass and yells, “Hey! Hello! Anybody in there?!” After like five fuckin’ minutes of this, you finally appear -- wearing a dirty disgusting chef’s coat, your hair haphazardly pinned up, shit on your face. You wipe your hands down your front, smearing something orange across the little bit of white left on your apron.

As soon as you turn the lock, Pale pushes his way through with his big body. Without the barrier of safety glass, he can really get a good look at you. Even with all the mess, you’re pretty fuckin’ hot. Stunning really. Makin’ his cock twitch in his dark jeans, with your soft fuckin’ eyes and lips and shit. But he can’t think about that right now. He’s got work to do. Clearly.

He sticks a fat hand out and greets, “Hey doll. The name’s Jimmy. But call me Pale. Everyone calls me Pale. Hate that fuckin’ name in fact. Jimmy. Only person call me that is my fuckin’ wife.” You’re flustered with how quickly he rambles, but you take his hand and introduce yourself. “Well let me ask you something. Why the hell ain’t you open? It’s the middle of fuckin’ lunch,” he wave his hands all over the place like this is the most atrocious thing. And honestly, in his opinion, it might be. “Uhh well no one’s in here,” you try to explain. He scoffs, “Yeah no shit. Kinda hard for people to get in with the door locked and all.” He did have a point there. You wring your sweaty palms together, trying to fight the utter embarrassment. “Thank you for agreeing to help me, Jimmy - uh Pale. Please tell me what I need to do to fix this.” He leans in real close, jabs a thumb behind him, “Why don’t you unlock the fuckin’ door first?” You chuckle nervously and walk past him. Pale can’t help but glance at your ass as you do, just can’t help himself. And damn. You look just as good from the back as you do from the front. And again, his dick agrees.

With the restaurant officially open, you give Pale a tour. But the condition of the dining room is so deplorable, he doesn’t want to go any further. “Nah doll. I ain’t going in that kitchen. I got half a mind to even let you cook for me,” he throws his hands up in protest. He pulls out the cleanest chair he can find and plops down. Dusting off the tiny table in front of him, he asks, “So what kinda food you serve here?” “I create Mexican Italian fusion dishes,” you respond quickly and proudly. But that pride is short lived, with the way he’s staring at you. “Huh. Fusion. Well I’ll be the judge of that,” he purses his lips as he opens a cloth napkin and sets it in his lap. You take that as your cue to bring out his first course.

“Here we have a baby squid, steamed with lemon and capers,” you say in your best chef’s voice. Steamed? Squid? Pale thinks - knows - what’s sitting in front of him won’t be good. But you’re too fuckin’ pretty for him to flat-out refuse. He wishes he did a bump before coming in this place. By the way he has to stab the fish with his fork, he instantly knows it’s not cooked. “Look, I ain’t eating this. This squid is so raw, I can hear it telling Spongebob to fuck off.” Hot tears prick at your eyes. And he can see it. “No. Come on now. Don’t start that shit. Just - just bring me the next course,” he dismisses you.

You set two overly stuffed enchiladas in front of Pale. They look better than the squid, but his hopes aren’t too high. When he finally musters up the courage to take a bite, he wants to spit it out right away. “These are the worst fuckin’ enchiladas I’ve ever had,” he throws down his fork. You go to remove the plate, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you to his eye level. “Look doll. I know I said I didn’t want to go into that fuckin’ kitchen, but you’re going to take me back there. Right now. Show me with the fuck you got going on.” The way his breath blows over your face and his eyes bore into you, you can’t refuse. “Oh-okay,” you stutter.

As you walk to the kitchen, Pale follows, and you can feel his gaze locked on you. And he is truly mesmerized by the way your hips swing. As soon as he crosses the threshold, he demands any and every other employee leave. “Go clean something. And don’t come back in her til’ I say so. Got it?” All life - including the cockroaches - scatters. Except for you. And him. He stalks over to you liek a wild animal. And you’re his prey. Your ass back up against the metal counter, where he cages you between his strong arms. “How’s this sweetheart. Your restaurant is disgusting, your food is even worse. This place ain’t gonna stay open another month. But you? You’re the best damn thing I’ve seen this side of the Hudson.” He steps in even closer, pressing his hot hot body to yours. “Pale, I-” your eyes drop between your bodies. You can feel the bulge in his pants, insistent on your stomach. Before you can choke out another word, his fingers are digging into your soft hips. In one swift instant motion, he lifts you to sit atop the cold counter and mashing his mouth to yours. Demanding. Hungry. You part your lips for him without protest, let his tongue slide against yours. Your fingers comb and twist into his slicked back hair. He moans and thrusts into you when your nails scratch at his scalp. A sudden burst of confidence implores your hands to move to work at undoing his jeans. But he swats you away, pinches your cheeks between his forefinger and thumb. “Nuh uh doll. You’re not ready for my big cock yet.” When you nod in agreement, he releases your face and finds your own waistband, yanking down your pants and panties at once. With those around your ankles, he spreads you open and admires your glistening cunt. “God. Are you always this wet for every Joe Blow that walks in this joint?” You can feel your face heat up at the comment, but Pale ain’t paying not attention. He’s too busy dropping to his knees and wedging himself between yours. And he wastes no time diving in. You gasp and hiccup at the sudden contact. He licks and sucks at your silky folds, drinking down everything you give him. Occasionally, his proud nose nudges your stiff clit, sending shockwaves down your spine. He grunts and pulls away with a wet pop, “Finally something edible. Finally some good fucking pussy.” Fuck he really wishes he had some coke or a cigarette or a drink, something. He’s already too worked up and he doesn’t want to wait anymore.

So he doesn’t.

Pale stands back to his full, towering height and makes quick work of his belt. He uses one hand to free himself, while he coats two fingers on the other in your slick. “Are you ready to take my big cock sweetheart?” he asks before shoving his thick digits deep into you. You inhale sharply and groan at the intrusion. “Yes Pale. Please.” He shakes his head, his dick now in his hand, where he strokes it slowly. “Nah doll. I want to hear you say it.” It takes every last brain cell not focused on the sensation of his burning hand pumping into you to find the words. “Yes - ah fuck - yes. Please fuck me. I’m ready to take your big cock.” Before you even finish your sentence, he’s lining up and thrusting into you. Hard. Deep. Your head falls back and knocks the steel service pass at the same time his cock head knocks your cervix. “Fuck. Fuck me. I like the way you beg sweetheart.” As he sets his brutal pace, the only sounds you can return are moans and whimpers and gasps. Your sounds of pleasure mix with his grunts and groans and curses and the delicious sound of bare skin smacking on bare skin. The symphony you create together bounces off pots pans plaster walls. “Fuckin’. This tight little pussy is gonna make me bust. Mmnh - fuck. Play with yourself doll. Make yourself cum. Make yourself fuckin’ cum on my cock.” You think you nod your head, but you’re not really sure. Either way, you brace your weight on one hand and use the other to draw perfect tight circles into your needy clit. The extra stimulation, added to Pales’ filthy words and steady driving driving into you, pushes you right over the edge. “Unnhh Pale. I- I’m gonna cu- I’m gonna-” “Yeah. That’s right. Cum on my cock. Cum on my cock in your dirty kitchen. Add to the mess. I’m gonna fuckin’ add to the mess. I’m gonna cum all over you. Fuck it’s disgusting in here,” he babbles and rants. You don’t even care that he’s continuing to insult your restaurant, even when he’s balls deep in you. You don’t even care because you can feel your cunt tightening around him and that ball of fire tightening around your insides. He fucks into one, two, three times more and everything explodes. You lurch forward, eyes pinched tight, cum with a shout. He follows right behind, pulling out of your still convulsing cunt, fucking his fist fast. Shooting sticky thick streams of cum onto one of your thighs, your exposed belly, and the counter. As he groans through the end of his climax, he smacks your undefiled thigh and grunts, “Shut it down doll.”

And you do.

You never enter another kitchen. Never cook another meal.

And never hear from Jimmy - Pale - again.

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

Tagging a couple other pals who expressed interest for some reason lol @direnightshade @poetic-solo @blackredrose27 @find-me-with-orion

#pale x you #pale x reader #pale/you #pale/reader #pale burn this #burn this broadway #adam driver #adam driver character #my writing #im so sorry

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allamericansbitch · 4 years

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well since y’all asked

everything will be below the cut so people can just ignore this lol

the wild thing is like... everything everyone was saying from both sides makes sense. the good and the bad. i’ll start off with a pro and cons and then do a short track by track

pros:

i agree with what people are saying about how well this style suits her voice, it perfect. it’s smooth and calming but also doesnt stick her in a box and will allow her to kinda move with it and change things up as she sings, which i know she loves to do.

the production is exactly her too. it’s r&b beats with classic strings... liek that’s completely ariana grande. it’s so interesting and it weirdly works well?

i feel like you can tell she was just in her element making these songs. i feel like she tapped into something that can be so endless for her and new ideas will be constant.

idk if it’s just me adjusting to hearing her sing but her pronunciation is getting a lot better

every song has at least one good and attractive part to it... there are no songs that i am so completely confused as to why it’s on the album.

it’s for sure my favorite era for her in terms of style

also her best album cover (but sweeter is close second)

cons:

okay... there is a pattern with this album. every song had a really solid start. so many times i was in love with the verses and the melodies she was singing but... my god are the choruses weak. it’s just one line... repeated... like 4 times... then we move on... and i was sitting here like ‘oh that’s what we were building up to?’ and it happened with every song. so i completely agree about it kind of falling flat most of the time.

it’s so repetitive. besides the choruses mostly all being weak, the themes are all the same. like the 14 songs on the album are all about two things: her being horny or her being in love. that’s it. why did we need 14 songs to tell us two things.

another point: why were there 14 songs? so many filler tracks that just add nothing to the album for me. she could’ve honestly made a solid 10 track album and it would’ve been a good clean piece of work.

the lyrics... oh my god the lyrics. the one thing i saw people saying, both fans of the album and not, was that the lyrics were really bad... liek they had to prepare people. and my god. there were some points that straight up sounded like 14 year old stan accounts arguing on twitter... ‘you sound dumb... shut up’ SHE USED THAT LYRIC AS A HOOK... she thought it was so good it deserved to be the hook like? and also there’s a lyric that just straight up says ‘read a fucking book’ lol. the good or tolerable lyrics are basically ones she already used before on other songs? like how many time's has this woman sung about fucking while watching movies...

she needs to stop putting out albums so frequently. a lot of the complaints i see people having is just that it doesnt feel finished or polished enough to be an album. like she should have waiting a few months and refined things. it feels like a stepping stone rather than a destination. she doesnt have a clear vision, narrative or purpose driving the album at all.

track by track

shut up: this was the first taste of bad lyrics like this is the song about being dumb and i fully was like omfg this is the whole song isnt it. i dig the production though.. this might have the best production of the whole album for me.

34+35: i felt like i was listening to a horny 13 year old boy during the chorus lol. it just felt really immature at some points... like the giggling every time she alluded to 69 wasnt necessary. also the end where she says ‘mean i wanna 69 with ya’..... sweetie you didnt have to tell us we know we can add. i did like the melody of the pre-chorus. the ‘i’ve been drinkin coffee, i’ve been eatin healthy’ is really catchy and good

motive: god i had such high hopes for this. it first started and i loved the production and the prechorus worked really well... but again that chorus weakness really fucked it. and doja’s part doesnt really fit the song for me? it feels out of place and like she should’ve been put on a more upbeat song

just like magic: first song i actually liked and added to my library! i finally heard a good chorus that didnt feel like it completely slowed down the momentum of the song and helped move it along. and the lyrics are cute. i think for me she needs to improve on the difference between a cute lyric and a cringy lyric... like cute: ‘middle finger to my thumb and then I snap it’ and cringy: the rest of the album. also one thing there’s a lyric about her listening to music she wrote and like girl you had 34 writers on this album... what are you listening to two words? every time she brags about writing it’s kinda embarrassing like.... at no point am i impressed

off the table: this production would have been so good.... if it actually did anything else or went anywhere. it stayed the same the entire time.... for 4 minutes. also stop letting men on women’s music because it seriously never works. her vocals are really pretty though.

six thirty: i really like her vocal delivery in this... like kinda dropping off at the end and just starting to talk? it’s interesting. also the chorus really had potential because it actually got bigger and more layered and interesting but again with the one lyric ‘are you down’ repeated like 3 times then the chorus is just over it’s like... oh okay

safety net: again amazing verse delivery and melody... IF SHE TOOK IT ANYWHERE it would have been great. and again with the male features... not necessary. the bridge is cool with them both singing but other than that it feel flat for me.

my hair: that smooth electric guitar intro is everything. and this sound of this song is so good.... but.... am i the only person who kinda feels weird about ariana, a white girl, being like ‘you can run your hands through me hair... dont be scared’ like?? why would they be scared... your hair is straight lol. it just toys with the whole idea of ‘don’t touch a black women’s hair’ for me. idk it could totally be a me overanalyzing thing. but god is she sang about anything else this would be my favorite song. second song i added to my library.

nasty: if i had to pick one song that was my exact expectations for this album before listening to it it would be this one. the electronic hip-hop beat with the harmonies and vocals, all paired together for a song about her being horny (again), like yeah this all fits. it feels lost in some places though. like some points i feel like i have no idea what part for the song we’re on or what’s happening and we’re just treading water. and another weak chorus with 1 lyric repeated over and over again. (also random side not that intro of her talking reminded me of when she gave that billboard interview and people were mad at her bc she starting talking with an accent even though shes white... like thats what i thought of i was like ma’am you are a rich white theater kid form florida you do not speak like that)

west side: the production in the beginning is so cool? where is sounds like a tape rewinding kinda? love that. but other than that like... no point to this song being included on the album... it’s 2 minutes and it falls flat pretty early on.

love language: this was the one i saw most people agreeing was the best one/most hyped. i expected to be a ballad but it’s one of the more upbeat ones and honestly thank god. a chorus that actually has structure and goes somewhere? wild. good and creative lyrics? WILD. anyway the production is great and reintroduces that kinda 70s vibe from motive but in a refreshing way. really good tie in. third song added to the library.

positions: i honestly didn’t even listen to this when it came out so i really had no idea what to expect. again the strings and orchestral pairs so well together... one of my favorite instrumentals on the whole album. i 100% see why this was the lead single and i agree with it completely. the most catchy chorus and it moves the song forward WHAT A CONCEPT. also very good placement on the tracklist because it was really refreshing. at this point it kinda started to drag on a little but this picked it right up. it also kinda threw me completely off balance because i was so familiar with the pattern of good verse weak chorus good verse weak chorus, but this is the opposite? weak verses but amazing chorus. forth song added to library. also i am genuinely curious why it’s the album title? it doesnt really fit the theme of the album but then again one of my complaints is that it doesnt really have a theme to begin with so...

obvious: the imagery i got when the music came in was like a dark 80′s lounge with dark wood furniture and i loved it lol. the same thing with positions, a surprising and refreshing combo of weak verse but good chorus which was nice. i can see it easily getting me stuck in my head, especially that hook. fifth song added to my library.

pov: this is the other song off the album i heard everyone generally loved. i would say this has the best theme and story of the entire album. it has an interesting concept that isnt overly used and the whole song is pretty good decent verse and decent chorus. i love the end where she gets powerful and has more grit in her voice and we get more emotion out of her... wish she didnt wait until the last 30 seconds of the whole album to finally deliver with that but sure. sixth song to be added to the library.

overall i was pretty surprised at how much i enjoyed it? i really expected not to the way everyone was talking about it. i think it is a good album with just some clear flaws, that could have been easily fixed if she didnt rush the album out so quickly. better lyrics and better judgement/deliberation of which songs deserve to be on the album and it would have been so solid. i would give it an overall rating of 6/10.

here’s my current ranking:

#text #send me asks about yalls opinons too!!

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luci-cunt · 4 years

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hi im super sorry to bother you! but i was wondering if you had any writing tips? im like really bad at writing, like fleshing out ideas and then building on them? and i see your writing and im always amazed because everything is so put together!! also there's no pressure to answer this if you dont want to! 😊

asjfd;lsakdj why are all nonnies so worried about annoying me?? I love you guys??? especially when you say shit like thsi??? my brain is leaking out my ears aldskjf;lasdkj <3333

also: jasl;dkfjasd oh my god you think my writing is put together?? aslkdfj;asldkjf <333 ajsd;fasjdlfkjaljdf

This got a little away from me so here’s a TL;DR:

Hoard your writing

Realize it probably doesn’t look as bad as you think it does

GET INTO YOUR WORLD!

Characters make worlds

You’re your own carpenter and other peoples writing strategies probably won’t 100% work for you

Writing’s kinda like acting well: get in your characters heads! (and I mean ALL of your characters--even your villains. ESPECIALLY your villains)

My writing process is a mess don’t follow it XD

WRITE

I think one of my favorite pieces of advice is the fact that creators are ruined by all the answers XD. Like, idk if that makes sense but basically: as the author/ artist/ creator you see everything that goes into making your work work which means you can’t really ever know what the polished piece looks like.

I mean, if you want visuals being a creator is only seeing the back of your cross stitch, while your readers/ consumers only see the front final image.

(this wonderful Elizabeth Cady Stanton found here is a great example but Tumblr is being stupid and won’t let me post it in the actual answer XD)

To us, it’ll always look a bit unfinished or wonky, because we know just about all the details!!

The point I’m trying to go for is that: as the creator you can’t really know whether or not your work makes sense or is “put together” it’s why I love getting feedback so much--I’m an addict. For one: it’s hugely encouraging to get compliments and reactions (+ a nice boost to the ego ;) XD) but, at least for me, I’m always terrified nothing in my stories makes sense!

Having aid that, fleshing out details/ building on them is still important and I think it’s one of the most important things about writing. I’m assuming you’re meaning just general ideas, in which case--write it down. al;ksdjfajk I know that seems obvious but at least for me I write everything down OBSESSIVELY, and I delete NOTHING. I have a whole doc where I copy paste sections that I want to remove just so I have all of it, becuase you never know when it might make sense later or come back to you!

I guess what I’m trying to say is--HOARD YOUR WRITING!!! Even the stuff that’s cringy and stupid and kind of makes you wanna throw up because oh my god did I really write liek that??? One of the first things I ever wrote was basically a rewrite of this one youtube minecraft series I liked, I think I was like 12 and it was cheesy and all over the place and just utter garbage nonsense. Everytime I look at it I cringe because oh GOD, but I kept that shit! BUT! One of the side characters was a stroke of accidental genius and I’ve been trying to replicate it since! XD

K I got a little away from myself but also: building and fleshing out ideas is...... a unique process. It’s not like physically building something, because at least with that there’s specific ways to go about doing it, but it’s more like.... idk taking pieces from other people until you get the strategy you want.

I’m a dumbass with ADHD so my strategy is the Jack Karouac. He was a classic american author known for his book “On the Road” which he famously wrote all in one 3-week sitting. He used a roll of ticker paper so he didn’t have to change it on his type writer and just wrote.

When I get an idea I sit down and just write everything out, my strategy is usually to frame it like I’m writing a letter to someone--YES snarky commentary included! XD--it just helps flow things.

So say I have an idea for a story, first I write an into something kinda stupid like “Ok I just came up with this like four seconds ago and now I need to write it out” and then I start with the most vivid details and go from there. Usually that means characters, I’ll describe them only as they pop up in my head (sometimes this means everything from name down to the way they tie their shoelaces and sometimes it’s just ‘best friend of mc’), then I work my way out from there, asking questions and writing the plot out.

Questions are worldbuilding things like “is this world like earth? is it in this time period? if it isn’t what time period? why that time period? this persons job is x, why? when did boy-next-door move in? why is there that scar on her face?” and usually while this is happening I’ll come up with little dialogue snippets that I just dump into a “Snippets” pile XD. Again--those are sometimes full pages of scenes I’m thinking of, or just dialogue bits I want to use or just more character quirks.

Once I’ve done that I drop it all and leave. Go for a run or a walk or make some food or whatever and DO NOT touch it or even THINK about it for at least a day. Then, come back and read over what you’ve got and fidget with it until you’ve got something at least resembling a story XD.

K wow this got long but lastly: Characters make worlds! If you’ve got kinda iffy world building or a plot you’re not very happy with, as long as the characters are enjoyable and real people will like it. Idk if you’ve read the All For the Game series but the world building is GARBAGE. lakjdsf;klj that’s not an exaggeration: a kids dad is a mob boss who works for the Japanese Yakuza who also run a fictional sport called Exy and regularly torture/ brainwash people. That’s just wild right there--BUT people adore it because the Characters are interesting and real.

Another example is the Green Creek series: I love those books to death but I stg Klune just recycles the same plot/ character drama every book and I STILL go back and reread them because the CHARACTERS!! And a LOT of people love those books despite the fact that they’re all basically the same.

Characters. Make. the. Story.

Idk, maybe I put too much weight on characters and I don’t know what I’m talking about, but--at least for me--I put the MOST effort into making my characters real and something people will be interested by and hopefully connect with, and I think it works out ok XD

Sorry this is rambly and long, I like talking. :) I hope this helped!!! Maybe?? ajs;dflajk

#luci doesn't shut up #wow this really got away from me sorry lkasjdf;laskdj #I hope this helps???#you're wonderful!! keep writing you're amazing!!#writing advice #also please don't follow my exact ritual because holy fuck you will nto get enough sleep

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kaiju-z · 5 years

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Seon Adventures - Episode 8, “6, they traveled”

aka. “Amelia’s Coochie Quest”

When we last left off, the party had left Menum, gained new equipment (weapons and armor) and met up with Samson at the fortress. From there, they set off on a journey that would take them to Heraia, with their closest stop being 5 days of travel to Tereresk

During the initial journey, on the 1st day, Luck shared with the party that there would be a fighting tournament in Crystalgate, during the Spring Welcoming Festival. He would also mention that “accidents” have been known to happen.

Samson, the druid of the Forestheart Bretheren, becomes the inadvertant camp maker during their quest and Mournimar does some stargazing, keeping mental note of the sky above, while Belli shows off her artistic skill to Amelia.

Their journey through the swamps has been troublesome, but they had managed. With Amelia’s impressive perception, of the passive variety, she notices something interesting on the 4th day of journey.

Between the trees, she sees a golden shape. She points it out to the rest of the party and a chas begins, which leads the lot of them to a tree, where the shape, which they quickly realize is a GOLDEN STAG, makes it’s stop. Amelia and Mournimar, as well as Samson quickly realize what this means. As Dyunficus, the deity of Hunting, Trade, Craftsmanship and Agriculture has often been portrayed by the masses as a Golden Stag.

A follower of Dyunificus, Samson drops to his knees and bows, while the stag keeps his attention, for the most part, on Mournimar. He snorts, bows his head and then walks towards the tree, mentioned earlier.

“Entering the tree”, it dissipates. The party quickly investigate said tree and learn, through Belli’s Identify that it, much liek the stag, were divine. Mournimar finds 20 pieces of gold and five gems: Amethyst, Carnelian, Garnet, Onyx and Topaz

He shares his findings with the core party, giving each of them equal pieces of gold, while also sharing the gems.

- Luck gets the Amethyst.

- Belli gets the Onyx. And puts it on her necklace????

- Mournimar keeps the Carmelian.

- Amelia gets the Topaz.

- So Burk gets the Garnet.

After this, they continue on their way and eventually reach Tereresk. A more trodden, small town than anything big like Bavorum, Victrum and Rorum. It’s more of a stopping place than anything else.

While Samson keeps to the carriage, with Kevin and Killer, the rest go inside a tavern the chaos siblings find by Belli carrying Mournimar on her shoulders for extra vision.

Inside said tavern, Mournimar approaches a scarred man and tries to ask him a few questions, but doesn’t really get anything out of him. He, however, recognizes Belli. And tries to ignore her, which upsets the half-orc, who ends up sitting on the table, trying to get an answer from the man’s recognition.

It soon becoems evident to Belli that this is actually the changeling Kit, from Menum and the two agree to have a conversation at midnight.

While the shenanigans with those three occur, Amelia, Burk and Luck go to the old lady bartender, who just poors herself and Amelia some good liquor, noting the handful that the party can be to Amelia.

The nicest rum.

Luck makes the old lady’s week by giving her a gold piece for whiskey, Luck asks Burk some questions regarding his quest for revenge.

Burk’s clan was called “Cragreaver” and they hailed from the western part of Ermia, the country they were currently in, since they crossed the Aetorumia border. Burk bluntly asks Luck why he’s poking around, asking about his dead family.

Luck, in turn, answers that he too understands the need for revenge. And that even if Burk didn’t make them promise to help him with his revenge, Luck would've still helped.

From there Luck buys Burk a drink and gives off a sincere smile, for the first time since the party began their travel together. Then fucks off to get some fresh air.

At midnight, Belli and Kit meet up back at the bar, while the others are sleeping. The two bond over Ficus, Belli’s brother and friend o Kit’s, discussing the party in a positive light and the journey ahead. (Also Kit is scared of octupi???)

Two two girls are the same age,with Belli being 16 and Kit being 17.

Kit seems to have some history with the Forestheart Bretheren, as she recognized Samson, when they arrived in town. Belli offers her a place in their party,but Kit refuses, as she really doesn’t want to travel with a lawman, of sorts. (The Forestheart Bretheren are basically magic sheriffs)

Besides, Kit works alone and hasn’t worked with anyone since Ficus.

“Yeah, but he’s a dick, I promise I can be much nicer.” - Belli, a legend.

Belli gives her bow (the ribbon variety, not the weapon) to Kit as a keepsake, tying it all pretty on her wrist and she makes Kit Blush. “This is my excuse to hold your hand.” - Belli, a fucking legend.

They part ways on good terms with Belli blowng a kiss to the changeling, leaving her a mumbling awkward blushy mess. And it’s glorious.

At around 4am, Mournimar wakes up in cold sweat having the realization that Luck talked to him in infernal, days prior after they took out the cult. He shares this information with Belli and the following day-

We get the comedy act of Mournimar trying to wake Belli up. Failing, then screaming and getting suplexed for it by the half-orc girl, much to the annoyance of Burk, who kicks down their door and proceeds t oslap them both upside the head. This party is wild.

Belli writes down “0 days since our last nonsence”

While Mournimar gets everyone food, Luck goes to get Samson to join them for breakfast, quite surprised to find him having not taken the carriage to the local barn. It would seem that Samson is very awkward about barns (maybe because that’s where he slept off downing centaur moonshine?!)

Once they eat and buy supplies from the locals, they continue on their journey, with Mournimar and Belli joining forces to teach Luck all new kinds of CUSS WORDS! In other languages! Infernal, Undercommon, Orcish, Elvish and even Abyssal!

The chaos siblings successfully corrupt the angel boy.

On the first night, Mournimar continues teaching Luck all kinds of new things, with the fighter enthusiastically taking notes, mindblown by these new findings. All the while Belli sets the mood with illusionary butterflies and Amelia hearing a voice in her head, which worries the rest. Everyone thinks they broke her.

This prods Mournimar and Belli to get Luck in on helping them with gathering food and flowers for Amelia. Make up for all the stress they put her through, right? Luck eventually agrees and the two form a pact on this matter.

Before the morning comes for them to perform said pact’s requirements, Mournimar soon gets greeted with by a Direwolf, during his turn on watch.

He speaks with the big wolf and bonds with him, learning his name is Morgan.

“Those, who find me in the forest call me Morgan.”

Luck is introduced to Morgan, as he was on the watch before Mournimar and had only barely gotten to sleep, when all this was transpiring.

Once morning comes, Belli joins the “Morgan Appreciation Squad” as she feeds him two bacon balls and basically becomes his best friend. (Morgan is a bit of a Brutus, you see).

It doesn’t take them long during their hunting trip to find and take out a deer with the expert skill of Mournimar’s archery and Morgan’s. Well. Teef. Belli picks flowers for Amelia, while the boys bond over archery. Luck had seen his master, Therodin, use the bow before, but he himself never quite mastered that. He was more of a close range fighter. A bad one. But a fighter non-theless.

Belli plans to make a flower jacket for Amelia, though sadly it would take too long to make it. So instead she makes an amazing flower crown for her (NAT 20!!!) As well as a leigh of greatness.

They return to the rest of the party and introduce Morgan.

Then Burk starts wrestling Morgan, much to Mournimar and Belli’s dismay and Amelia’s annoyance. Only Luck and Samson keep quiet and watch, while Burk has this struggle for dominance and eventually succeeds. Burk whispers in the wolf’s ear “I’m the Alpha here.” And lets Morgan go.

Burk’s logic was simple. As the only person in the party, who has experience with Dire Wolves, his clan having used them in the past, he wanted to settle the record straight with Morgan.

As things quiet down, calm down even, Belli presents Amelia with the flower crown, from which Amelia loses all color in her face and walks off. Crying. Luck goes after Amelia, while Belli runs into the forest, followed by Mournimar.

Each duo have a heart to heart and eventually come back to the party’s camp, Luck having learned some things about Amelia’s past. Burk is bitter, Samson is confused.

From this point, the party continues their travel. Amelia can tell Belli’s still upset and, wearing the flower crown, sit beside her, having a good conversation about what happened earlier. Amelia makes it clear that Belli did nothing wrong and she had to step away, because, as she puts it:

They’re all just really messed up.

To which Samson takes offense, coachmanning the carriage with Burk.

“Look me in the eyes and listen. You didn’t do anything wrong. They’re lovely and I love them. Thank you very much.”

Belli insights Amelia. She knows she means it. Belli relaxes a little and nods.Then she apologizes for her behavior. The girls hug each other.

Luck hugs his daggers. He can’t stay mad at them. (yeah, with all the bad rolls Luck’s been having the past couple of sessions, he has been having an existential crisis of the ironic nature of it all. But he can’t stay mad at his new daggers!)

Once they reach the next small town, everyone but Luck and Amelia go to the tavern, much to the tavern owner’s dismay, since Mournimar brings Morgan with him.

In the carriage, Amelia asks Luck to help her with her hair, having taken note of how well Luck’s been keeping up with his own style. Luck agrees.

(And at this point I made my brother and mother angry at me, because shenanigans happened. Because I rolled bad on doing Amelia’s hair. And I started using all my Lucky rolls.

Once I re-rolled.

Twice I re-rolled.

THRICE I RE-ROLLED! I spent all my damn Luck for the day so that I don’t accidentally scalp Cloudmom!

With the last re-roll I succeeded on doing her hair right and had me a loud scream. At like. 1:30am??? Woke my mom up, freaked my bro out.)

Eventually the lot of them go to bed and take off the next day. It doesn’t take them long from this point to reach the township of Heraeia. The first major stop of the session! For the first time since Menum, they reach a town with more than 12 buildings. The thing that stands out the most from a distance is the large temple. Heraeia almost seems close to bustling, you know?

The party splits in four.

Mournimar and Belli go to the local temple, a major building that stands out from a distance.

Burk and Luck go to the shady part of town for a fight club experience, asking around about their quarries.

Amelia goes to a tavern, “The Tipsy Goose inn”, where she had agreed to meet with Nelatha, the bard, and Samson chills out with the horses.

Mournimar talks with a tiefling cleric with leaf charm jewelry on her horns, while Belli gets watched over by a half-elf priest.

Mournimar discusses his life with the tiefling cleric. His tragic past involving the cult of Potencia, his blood rages, the Death Cult, as well as meeting the Golden Stag and the jewels. She is floored by Mournimar’s story about Savon giving him the bow after beating the Death Cult.Mournimar asks if this is a positive sign from Dyunificus. She answers that the gods are known to usually interfere when something’s happening on a macro scale.

Mournimar has regrets. He wishes, some days, that he wasn’t born a tiefling. But the cleric assures him that there is no shame in being born one, like them. “ It isn’t who we are, but how we react to who we are. “

While this happens, Belli talks about her religious experience with the half-elf, who’s. Well. Tired af, man. He needs a vacation, travel the world. Belli helps him more than he helps her in this instance and it’s amazing.

She encourages the half-elf cleric to go for a walk and live his best life.

While this happens, the melee weapons boys go to the purple sector, the shady part of town, having been pointed to a particular bar. The two find a tavern, a bar called “The Leaking Spoon”. As they approach two men come flying out the window, mid-brawl. Said men laugh it off, hug it out and go back inside the tavern.

Luck and Burk promptly go in and scan the area for their targets. Who aren’t here. It’s very mid-western saloon after a bar fight. People randomly beating each other up. 12 heads snap in Luck’s direction as he says “Quite the Lively place.

Burk shouts at the lot staring at them: “ WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!”

“ A fucking dick, obviously!” he gets in turn.

Then things return to the usual with people laughing, drinking and fighting. Burk gets a fist swung at him and gets into combat with one guy, while Luck tries to get to a high ground. Only to drop off the table, for being too heavy with the plate armor.

Getting laughed at, Luck runs for one of the five guys he notices and dropkicks him off his chair.

The fight proceeds in ridicilous fashion, with Luck breaking in his new armor, but doing a miserable job at fighting, having not been used to this kind of stuff.

Burk, however, is doing amazing.

Until one racist calls him Luck’s “pet”. Which causes Burk to snap and beat the ever loving shit out of the man, leaving him for dead, before exiting the bar. “You’re my bitch now.”

Luck, having nothing available to help the man, follows after Burk. and Luck tries to think of a gameplan. As they walk they find the man shambling away and he begs for his life. Luck pays him off with his two remaining platinum pieces. “Nothing happened. We go our own ways. Fix yourself up, get your wife something and don’t be racist towards goblins.”

WHILE THIS IS HAPPENING!

Amelia visits Nel, who is performing in the tavern, flautisting the shit out of the scene. After her performance and money collecting, Nel opens her eyes and sees Amelia. They hug it out. Nel expected the others to be with her, but Amelia assures her taht eventually they’ll all find their way to the tavern, with Mournimar and Belli soon joining them.

Until that happens, though,the girls get drinks from Tommin, the Halfling, who is able to read the room.

The girls discuss their time apart and the job that Nel acquired for Belli. Though she would prefer to wait for Belli, until giving further details.

Amelia mentions that they took out the death cult recently and Nel is impressed.

“They may be a pain in my ass sometimes, but they all are wonderful people.”

The chaos siblings enter, discussing their temple adventure. Nel and Belli proceed to talk about the job, which will take place during the Winter Solstice festivities. And introduces herself to Belli properly.

Belli knows Nel’s name, since Amelia talks about her a lot.

“Oh, does she?”

Mournimar is having a shit eating grin over this. Fun times.

Maybe we’ll have loads to talk about after we’ve met.” Nel is grinning the same way, basically.

Everyone admires Amelia for her strength or booty. “Sometimes both.” - Nelatha.

As the session draws to a close, Amelia and Nel go to drink, catch up further and do the do.

And this ending, as decreeded by Mournimar and Belli’s players, gives birth to the episode subtitle of “Amelia’s coochie quest”.

END OF SESSION!

Previous Episode / Next Episode

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dailyjeons · 6 years

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BTS account 13/10/18

didn’t do merch cause i did that in london, didnt go for studio cause that was probably not feasible with how our lines were going (at least i was too scared to do it).. sucks cause i didnt get allowed into the london booth while in the amsterdam booth everyone was queue-ing up anyways and getting in lol

bolding the subjects so you can skip parts that dont interest you

pre concert stuff So I was going to the concert with a person(Julie) I met through tumblr, she responded to my message asking if people wanted to queue up in GA with me cause I was alone. She was with a group of people and they basically adopted me so that was nice!! Julie was super kind, constantly looking out for me, for my anxiety too and just I really loved being with her, time really flew!! We prioritized looking out for eachother over seeing the boys so I was really happy bout that! We basically queued up at 7AM in the 'unofficial line' that later on became the official one! Campers were sent out, I believe, but they probably came back early still! We still had a fairly decent spot I suppose? The camping out itself wasn't too stressful but I had a lot of anxiety bout being in the pit in a crowd of people, not havin bathroom breaks and being on 2 hours of sleep gjkfg Julie tried to reassure me through all of that. there were some fans giving out some stuff in the line!! like arts and stuff and i got this from a jimin fansite, i think she was japanese?

it was so funny basically she did rock paper scissors with fans to determine if they’d win.. i lost but she gave it to me anyways?? LOL she didnt give it to anyone else that lost LOL

gettin into pit Eventually we got in and fortunately my tickets worked!! We like rushed into the left side but the view was not bad, ok, then we tried for the right side and we got similar views? But I think overall it was just a little better! We were around the sixth/fifth row in the pit but we moved up a bit to the fifth/fourth during the concert. I had a fairly good view on the stage, and could see the boys clearly!! I still used my iphone to film cause of the amazing quality zoom it has and i have so much gooood footage ahhhh my hands are super shaky though so thats annoying but oh well, its something! they like handed out water very often thank god so i could cool off and drink durin the concert!! we had to stand for like 3 hours inside so i was getting really nervous but once the concert started it was fine!!

concert Anyways the concert itself was mindblowing? They're actually sosososo good live it's actually insane how they sing live through their choreo or while bouncing around. Tear is still my favorite performance but the crowd went a little too wild around then so i didnt enjoy it as much :( They also did the medley I prefered (w Baepsae) which made so happy cause i got to experience both medleys now jdskfhfsdf.. i do feel like the performances were better for the London date, but the interactions and the boys happiness were on a much higher level in Amsterdam, especially with jungkook flying around trying to dance!! That said I felt like the crowd fell a little bit flat.. When the Jimin/Namjoon VCR was playing everyone was screaming initially for both but after a hot minute they like only screamed for Jimin?? The silence was actually deafening so Julie and I decided to help with Namjoon's screams then, and it was so disappointing we were legitimately the only 2 people screaming for him in such a venue lol. Crowd did however go wild at Kim Seokjin's performance, and IT'S WHAT HE DESERVES. Overall I think Seokjin and Jimin had the best reactions in Amsterdam, and London both.

impressions on boys As for the boys. Gonna be honest with y'all I was so busy filming Jungkook solo all day that I didn't really notice others?? fdjkghdf since i already had thel ondon date i figured today was jungkook's day now i had sights on him proper.. Some notes, Yoongi, Jimin and Namjoon spoke some Dutch and it was super cute!! Yoongi did it first fjgdkhfdg

Yoongi: Super smol but big hands, and fluffy cheeks (he bloats really easily lolol) his see saw performance was REALLY good today too, i feel like reaction to seesaw is the best, everyone's always singing the whole song w it while most of the crowd struggled with their title tracks in both london and amsterdam LOLLL yoongi must be so proud over it.. also he's the first to speak in dutch to us but it was like really suddenly right before they were performing so nobody really noticed fjghkdfg and u know when he makes a dad joke and he smiles flustered, but nobody reacts to his jokes.. he did that thing LOLLL

Namjoon; very long and slender, his legs are legit 70% of his body and he went offffff today like when he's into shit like tear i cry cuz oh my god merCY kjdfhgdhjkfg Namjoon seemed to really love Amsterdam tbh he kept talking bout stuff to do while the others had fairly standard stuff to say, with a lot of repeat from the london concert too (which is fine vconsidering its hard for themt o speak in eng too)

Hoseok: He looks a lot sharper irl?? im not sure if i said differently last time, but now i saw him up close he's definitely much more handsome, cameras dont do him justice.. also he always has the most gentle smile on his face and it calmed me down a lot jkfgh

Taehyung: tbh im not sure if i missed him but i didnt really see him on my side a lot? i think like a few times i tried to film but couldnt really get it..?? julie did tho.. he's kind of.. small? but not small like yoongi but small like i'd confuse him for a high school kid.. BUT his face?? is really smth else his face is SO small but his features are sooooooo big and sharp.. god himself shaped this boy

Jin: ok yeah this man is 10000% more handsome irl liek i was filmin jk and lost focus and then jin appeared and i almost dropped my phone cause what the fuck?? hes GORGEOUS.. he didnt do the forehead/glasses look today though, unfortuantely cause jesus christ that was something else. he was bein a crackhead to jk again today rofll

jimin: he's legit a fairy irl lol it doesnt make sense.. like.. he's... really pretty....... super super super pretty, guys like legitimiately glowing.. he was super playful today and he seemed really happy to perform on his birthday which is super pure considering.. who likes working on their birthday? he like moved his dressshirt/blouse off shoulder a bit during the fake love portion of the set and oh ym god h..e..........HE... his collar... i want 2 kiss it.......platonically.

as for jimin's birthday.. omg he's so cute? they were at the extended stage when his birthday message came up (a message in dutch) and he like instantly rushed back to the main stage to show off his birthday message and he proceeded to talk in dutch about how it's his birthday, and how army are his gift?? it was suuuper cute!! imagine Jimin practicing his dutch just for this moment fdgkjhdf

jungkookie!!

Anyways onto ma boy!! Jungkook is absolutely unreal pretty. He didn't look as bloated/pained today so i guess i saw The Jungkook today and he's so.. sharp looking??? like his jawline and cheekbones are insane and like the dimple?? ughhhhh he looked a lil smaller now i was upclose but his thighs were still gods gift.. also he did forehead kookie instead of coconut kookie, i remain blessed.. he always hears my prayers..

throughout the show he was honestly super cute, he kept dancing in his chair to the choreo, spinning in circles while doing it, hopping around the stage slowly to wave and look at every fan.. he even looked towards me at some point but i legitimately dodged and turned away cause like I FELT SO GReaYS ANd i'd rather not have him see me like that lmaooo anyways it's so super cute how despite his injury he still tries to give it his all at all times, and now he could walk around he's instantly back at trying to make interactions with all fans?? a precious baby honestly!!

his ending ment was really-really sweet as well and it always amazes me how eloquent he can get when he gets to share us his real feelings.. i really am glad he's not too disappointed in himself anymore and has reached a point where he's just working on getting better instead<3!!

other than that, just like in london.. jungkook's vocals are insane. i don't care that he's not top tier vocalist in terms of technique but he got smth completely else and thats' how comffortably he can move around in his range and remain stable and it's just.. so amazing to hear him hit certain notes with almost.. ease? voice never cracks even after 23948234 songs it's so sickkkk

anyways this was definitely one of the best nights in my life.. despite allt hes tress and anxiety.. i’m sosoosos glad i went through all of this for that.. i had the greatest company and ended up having the greatest experience<3

#ania shut up!#bts in amsterdam 2018 #if i got typo''s etc its not proofread #just honest thoughts!!#there they go super long

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gymwrites · 7 years

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Second Thoughts: A Fan Sequel to First Times

Links to: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 (Part I), Chapter 5 (Part II), Chapter 6 (Part I), Chapter 6 (Part II), Chapter 6 (Part III), Chapter 7, Chapter 8 (Part I), Chapter 8 (Part II)

Chapter 5: Impossible (Part II)

Sissone to side aerial. Swing down into the Korbut, avoid death by faceplant. Immediately celebrate survival with an end-of-beam yas queen pose. Switch ring, followed by sheep jump. Dance like everyone owes you their undivided allegiance. Then illusion turn, because you’re a boss about to stun everyone with a flawless split leap and aerial. And if that won’t do it, straight L turn, switch split, single spin and Y turn in quick succession, because why the hell not.

The triple twist at the end lands with a satisfying thump on the mat.

“Nice work, Eythora!” Sanne Wever raises her hand as she walks past her teammate towards the other end of the beam.

Breathing hard, Eythora returns Sanne’s high five, pleased the last training before team finals tomorrow was going so smoothly for them. Mingling with other gymnasts had revealed they were one of the most relaxed groups competing. This, despite it being Netherland’s first shot at Olympic team glory in over four decades. Every single media interviewer had brought that piece of trivia up, holding it over their heads like the sword of Damocles. At times, Eythora had to stop herself from grabbing the camera and yelling into it, “We know, we know!” But the media frenzy hadn’t daunted them in the least. They were having the time of their lives in Rio, doing the best they could. Eythora was proud of her girls for that.

She strolls over to where the rest of her teammates and Giulia Steingruber are chatting and giggling on the floor area facing the beam. Without a team and effectively in Rio on her own, the bubbly Swiss gymnast had become a welcome attachment to their little entourage. She trained with them whenever she could, and joined them at mealtimes armed with an endless supply of hilariously inappropriate jokes and gymnastics circuit gossip.

Sitting down next to Giulia, Eythora catches the tail of an energetic retelling of a story that sounds like it took place at the afterparty in Glasgow Worlds last year.

“… nicest girl ever. Can you imagine? I had a huge split up the back of my dress, freaking out in the lady’s room. She walks in, and immediately offers to help.”

“Who’s this?” Eythora asks curiously. She settles into a split position and curves forward in a deep stretch.

Giulia turns to her with a grin. “Simone Biles. She’s as nice as everyone says she is. Her coach too! She was the one that helped pin my dress back together. I don’t know how else I could’ve walked out of there. Actually, the whole American team is pretty awesome once you get to know them.”

A smile plays on Eythora’s lips as she recalls her encounter with their team captain. “They are.”

“Oh, you've met them already?” Giulia turns to Eythora, twirling the end of her blonde ponytail around one finger. “They’re hard to catch. I hear their national coordinator is very strict about who they speak to during competitions. ”

Eythora shifts to sit in a cross-legged position and casually props her chin on one hand. “I talked to Aly Raisman yesterday.”

Sharp sounds of surprise emanate from everyone in the group, and Eythora laughs at the expressions on their faces. “What? I had to find someone to hang out with after you all abandoned me last night,” she says, shrugging.

“What did you guys talk about? Was she by herself?” Even Céline, usually the quietest one of the group, can’t help but dig more.

“Yes, her team wasn't there for some reason. We talked a bit about everything. Mostly about gymnastics. She was lovely. Not that I was expecting anything else.” The girl is perfectly mesmerizing in a strangely dorky, attractive kind of way, and I find myself wondering when I’ll get to see her next almost every five minutes.

An idea strikes her. “Giulia, how well do you know Aliya Mustafina? You’ve met her lots of times at other meets.”

“You mean what do I know other than that she has a terrifying look that will turn you into stone if you stare too hard?”

Eythora swats at Giulia’s arm. “She can’t be that bad. Mustafina seems nice.”

“She can be nice if she wants to. For a Russian.” The side-eye Eythora gives Giulia for that unflattering stereotype is responded to with a shrug of her shoulders. “What? You know what I mean. There’s always this wall with Mustafina. Also, I’ve heard things.”

“You always ‘hear things’.”

Grinning, Giulia acknowledges the truth in Eythora’s skeptical statement with a knowing tilt of her head. “Okay, so most gossip on the gymnastics circuit ends up being crazy stories made up by drunk or jealous, or both, people. But it’s different with Mustafina. I’ve seen and heard enough to know she can be quite… a someone.” It’s unclear whether she means that as a good or a bad thing.

“Well she has to be, if she’s the captain of Team Russia. I’ve never spoken to her properly, but she seems really great. And really, really talented.” At least, the Russian had never given Eythora a reason to think bad of her.

“Come to think of it, I have heard some pretty wild rumors,” Giulia says.

Eythora raises an eyebrow. “Rumors?”

“From back at the London Olympics. About Mustafina and - ” Looking carefully around, as if the surrounding space might be bugged, Giulia whispers in a low voice, “Raisman.” She immediately clams up and concentrates on adjusting her wrist strap.

Eythora thinks back to how Aly’s face had seized up in a pained expression at the mention of Aliya Mustafina’s name. Maybe there was something more to it than she had thought. “You can’t put that out there and not keep going,” she objects. “What happened?”

Giulia looks over at her teasingly. “I thought you weren’t the type to chase rumors?”

“Come on,” Eythora puts on a pleading tone, even though knows she won’t have to push too hard. It’s in the girl’s DNA to spill.

Sure enough, unable to resist disclosing one of the more explosive stories she’s picked up over the years in the perpetually dramatic world of elite gymnastics, Giulia bends towards Eythora and drops the volume of her voice so only their group can hear. “I’ve heard that Mustafina and Raisman were together. You know, together together. People saw them around the athlete’s village, in locker rooms, being, let’s say, close.”

Eythora sucks in her breath. This wasn’t exactly what she had expected. Nor wanted to hear.

“Who’s being close?” Sanne cuts in, having just finished her beam routine. Dropping to the floor the journal she uses to meticulously record all her skills and connections, she sits down on the other side of Giulia. She looks around weirdly at the tight-knit circle of girls. “And why do all of you look like you’ve swallowed a live fish?”

As the other girls excitedly fill Sanne in on the juicy details of the conversation, Eythora frowns. “They’re just rumors, no? Gymnasts make friends with other gymnasts at meets all the time. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“Sure. It’s always just rumors.” Giulia’s sly, pointed look says she thinks this particular rumor was most likely no rumor at all, but cold hard fact.

Gloomily, Eythora conjures up the image of the striking captains walking by in perfect sync, like they were headed for a world only the two of them could enter. Aly had denied there was anything between them, and yet… A bit too anxiously, she asks, “Are they still together?”

The Swiss girl shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

Eythora perks up, but catches herself just in time so that it’s not so obvious. “How do you know? What happened?”

Holding both her palms up in a shrug, Giulia puts on her best unsolved mystery voice. “No one really knows. But I saw them both at 2013 Worlds and I’ve spoken to a few of the Russian girls since. They are definitely not friendly with each other anymore.”

A wave of relief washes over Eythora, and her heart oddly feels a little less constricted. “That’s... well, a shame. I guess.”

Lieke, the other Wever sister who has been listening in with mild interest this whole time, immediately looks up to catch Eythora's eye. Eythora tries to steel her face into a more neutral state, keenly aware of Lieke's annoyingly uncanny ability to see whenever she's about to throw her whole heart and soul into something.

“Eythora? What are you thinking?” Lieke probes warily.

“Just thinking.”

“I know that face. And what’s with all the questions about - “ In a flash of realization, Lieke’s eyes widen. “You're interested. In her.”

Eythora’s first instinct is to deny it straight away. But what would be the point? Suddenly, she realizes she needs an outlet for the weird, giddy feeling she's not been able to shake off since yesterday evening.

"Oh, Eythora..." Lieke begins, but Eythora cuts her off with a helpless shrug.

“Who wouldn't be? And you know I’ve always had a thing for brunettes."

She watches the others' mouths slowly fall open, except Lieke's, who purses her lips and shakes her head.

“You’ve spoken to her what, once? How is that even possible?” Lieke voices disbelievingly.

“Not to mention,” chimes in Sanne, “the last brunette you liked was a six-foot tall violinist called Daniel. And look how that turned out.” Her unhelpful contribution earns an evil eye from Eythora, and she chuckles. Unlike her twin, Sanne seems to be finding the whole thing quite entertaining.

Lieke is undeterred. “You know what I mean. Be careful, Eythora. You don’t want to go starting any drama here, especially at the Olympics. And,” Lieke directs a look at the rest of the team to back her up, “especially not with the Russians.”

“I’m not interested in starting any drama,” Eythora explains patiently. “I just want to get to know her better. And I want her to get to know me. Besides, you heard Giulia. Whatever happened between them happened years ago.”

Giulia raises her hands, as if washing them clean of any responsibility over the trouble her gossip might have stirred up.

Drumming her fingers on the mat, Lieke remains unconvinced. Always looking out for her teammates, Eythora knows she just doesn’t want her getting into anything that might end up backfiring. “And let’s say for argument’s sake - you get to ‘know’ Raisman better - what about afterwards? Will you two keep getting to ‘know’ each other with an entire ocean between you?”

“That’s thinking a little bit too far ahead, isn’t it?”

Lieke gives Eythora a worried glance. “It’s my job to think too far ahead. Also,” she trails off, slightly chagrined but completes the sentence anyway, “you have a bit of a reputation.”

“Reputation?” When Lieke doesn't immediately elaborate, Eythora looks around questioningly at the rest of her friends, some who cast their gaze away to hide knowing smiles.

She glances back at Lieke, who pauses before saying, “You tend to get interested in people, and then they get interested in you, and then you… well, you lose interest.”

Oh. Eythora sighs. Lieke may have a point. Still - “This is different.”

“But - “

“Don’t worry. Our team and the competition comes first, always,” Eythora interrupts with a reassuring certainty. “But Mustafina or no Mustafina, I know someone worth taking a risk for when I see them.” Eythora pauses to reminisce the tiniest of details. The way Aly’s lashes lowered over eyes of uncompromising decency, the sweetness in her voice. Her pulse picks up immediately, something that almost never happens outside of competitions, and especially not because of a girl she barely knows. “I can’t quite put my finger on why, yet. But she is that someone.”

Eythora grins at her stunned teammates like she’s just solved one of the secrets of the universe. “You know how I know this is different? I think she’s the first someone.”

-----

The second thought Aly Raisman has when she sees Eythora off in the distance is laced with confusion.

It was the day. Team freaking finals day.

The sun beats down, casting a brilliant golden shadow over everything in sight. As usual, Aly is making her way around the leafy Village walkways, soaking in the peacefulness of another crispy, Rio morning. It would give her something to hold onto for later, when she led Team USA to what would hopefully be their second consecutive team gold. She was going to need all the superhuman calm she could store inside of her.

Aly also secretly hoped to run into Aliya again. Not that she knew what to do if that actually happened. Deep down, she still refused to believe their last encounter had been… the end. She knew it would haunt her for the rest of her life, if the last image of Aliya seared into her mind was the one of her resolutely walking away.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, Aly listlessly follows the curve of the footpath without really caring where it leads. It isn’t until she hears what sounds like a group of giant komodo dragons hissing at each other that she stops in her tracks to look up.

She’s unknowingly reached the centerpiece of the athlete’s village. A row of ridiculously pruned trees encircle an even more elaborate display of fountains that are noisily and unsuccessfully trying to sputter out water. Something must be wrong with the system. Her attention, however, is quickly drawn to the radiant flash of orange on the well-kept lawn next to the fountains, just a few short meters ahead.

The girl doesn’t appear to be bothered by the waterworks’ graceless sounds. Motionless, she stands with one leg fully stretched out in front of the other, her body low to the ground. Both her arms are raised above her head, the flats of her palms joined together, eyes closed, like she’s meditating in a basic yoga position.

Aly’s first thought was to spin around and head in the opposite direction. But for some reason she stops, back half-turned. Part of her wants to go up and say good luck for team finals, but maybe she doesn’t want to be disturbed. Then again, it might be rude if she just walked away without saying anything.

Indecision. The bane of her existence.

Just as Aly decides to side with her first instinct, a voice clear as crystal calls out to her. “Aly! Wait up.”

She hears the light patter of someone jogging in her direction, and turns back around. As Eythora nears, Aly can’t help but grin at the girl's massive red-cheeked smile.

“Hey,” she says, sticking her hands into her jacket pockets, hoping this time round she can manage to not sound like a blathering idiot.

“Hæ,” Eythora says, her dimples showing.

“Hi…?” Aly repeats the sound she heard. It sounded like a hi, but with a coloration that made it sound archaic, like something courtiers used to say to each other in a medieval court.

“That’s hi in Icelandic.”

“You speak Icelandic too?” Aly is impressed and feels a slight hint of shame, having spoken only one language all her life.

“My family is originally from there, so I speak it at home. It’s no big deal.” Coy, spirited eyes lingering on Aly, Eythora quickly changes subject. “Well, this is bumping into each other again very soon. I’m happy.” Her expression makes it seem as though all her birthdays have come at once.

Aly returns her smile, lost as to why the girl is so pleased to see her, but it sparks a little warmth in her all the same. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Probably the same reason as you,” Eythora replies.

It’s still early enough that Aly can count on one hand how many other athletes are carrying out their daily morning stretches on the sprawling lawns in front of the apartment blocks in the distance. “I take walks around here most mornings. It helps clear my head and gets me ready.”

“You are nervous, for today?”

She really does have a knack for getting straight to the point, Aly thinks. Carefully, she redirects the question. “Why, are you?”

Eythora openly smiles at the guarded response. “Yes. Very nervous,” she says honestly.

“Actually, me too. A little,” Aly admits with a small grin. Pointing towards the foam mat (bright orange, of course) spread out on the grass, she asks, “And you? Is this what you do to get ready before a big competition?”

The girl nods. “I do special stretches that help control my nerves. They help me get into character for the artistic elements of my routines too.”

“How does that work?”

Eythora’s eyes brighten. “Why don’t I show you? Come.” She says it in a way that isn’t demanding at all, but causes Aly’s feet to automatically follow her back to the little oasis of calm she’s set up around her mat. As they walk together, the fountains finally find their groove, spraying the air with rivulets of water that criss-cross each other perfectly in the center of the oval pond.

“I was thinking about what you said the other night, about dancing. I wanted to tell you that I wasn’t completely comfortable with it either, at first,” Eythora says as she bends down to brush off blades of grass scattered over her mat.

Aly finds that hard to believe. “But you move so well.”

Looking up, Eythora’s sunny laugh skips through the air. “Thanks. It wasn’t always like that, though. I had a lot of spare time to practice. When my back started hurting, all I could do was walk around in an ugly brace, watching all the other girls train.”

“What happened?”

“It was a few years ago. No one knew what was wrong. Not even the doctors could tell me. I just knew it felt like…” Pausing, trying to describe the kind of pain it was, Eythora makes a circle with her index finger and thumb, as if holding a tiny pin, and makes repeated jabbing movements in the air. “Like this, all the time.”

“Wow,” Aly says quietly, imagining it for herself. “That must have been awful. And frustrating.”

Eythora stands, straightens the creases in her track pants and gives Aly a sideways grin. “It was difficult. And I was a baby about it for awhile. But it ended up working out really well. My coach used the time to teach me weird stretches and techniques to help me hold and express myself better on floor and beam. It can start out feeling a little stupid, but it works. Here, you start like this.”

She resumes the position Aly saw her in before, exhaling while she slides her right leg incrementally forward, sinking towards the ground. Then, as she very slowly inhales, her arms spread out, rising upwards and over her head, before her fingertips meet in a perfect arch at the top. Aly notices her back straightening, and a different kind of weighted aura settles into Eythora’s shoulders.

“When you breathe out, you’re meant to empty yourself of well, yourself,” she explains. “But when you breathe in, you fill yourself with the character you’re meant to be. Me, for example, I’m a fearless warrior princess about to lead her troops into battle.” Opening one eye briefly to peek at the look on Aly’s face, Eythora laughs with what sounds like a rare hint of self-consciousness. “I warned you, it’s a bit strange.”

Aly considers it for a moment, and then shrugs with a smile. "I guess I could imagine myself to be someone who doesn't have two left feet." She’s grateful the girl trusts her enough to reveal what essentially is a trade secret.

Studying Eythora's position carefully, she starts to mirror her movements. It doesn’t seem too hard. Aly has no trouble getting to the first stance - she’s used to stretching out like this - but as soon as she lifts both arms up and starts to fill her lungs with air, her center of gravity suddenly shifts.

For a split second, Aly feels like she’s about to topple in a heap to the ground.

Quick as lightning, Eythora’s hands reach out to steady her. Too embarrassed to thank her for her cat-like reflexes, Aly blushes when she notices that Eythora is standing close. Very close.

“The hard part is controlling the breathing,” Eythora advises, her voice wafting a hair’s width from Aly’s ear. “It has to come for your diaphragm, right here.” She points to Aly’s lower stomach. “Do you mind if I…?” She leaves her sentence unfinished and glances down, where her hands are politely seeking permission to fix up a few things.

Oh.

“Oh, right. Sure,” Aly tries to say as casually as possible.

She instinctively tenses up as Eythora’s fingers deftly press down on either side of hips to shift them into a slightly different position.

Detecting the American’s nervousness, Eythora gives a light laugh. “Relax,” she instructs gently. She steps back to assess the placement of Aly’s feet, her mouth working into a concentrated frown as she swiftly adjusts an out-of-place shoulder, reaches around to place her palm against the small of Aly’s back to ease it into a straighter posture.

With parts of her mind panicking and falling all over themselves trying to figure out how to handle this unexpected amount of physical contact, Aly isn’t sure if she’s capable of relaxing in any sense of the word. So instead she focuses on breathing out, to empty herself of herself.

Breathes in.

I am captain of the best Olympics gymnastics team in the world. Totally not confused by the situation I find myself in right now.

-----

The second thought Aliya Mustafina has when she spots another girl wrapped around Aly Raisman is that bright orange is the ugliest color she has ever beheld in her life. Anyone caught wearing it should be sent straight to the seventh circle of hell.

It’s a significant step down from her initial desire to strangle whoever is sporting that ghastly excuse of a jacket. Whoever it is that thinks they have a right to put their hands all over her like that.

It was, however, beyond the power of her good senses to stop her feet from angrily walking over at full speed to confront Raisman and that girl who would soon be sorry she ever woke up this morning.

As she gets closer to the pair, a nasty possessiveness rear up inside of her. On some level, Aliya knows it’s unfair. She had, after all, told Raisman they could never again be anything more than rival competitors. She had chosen to walk away, because she wasn’t prepared to risk being driven to the edge of madness when the time inevitably came to lose Aly again. But to see her with someone else, doing… well, what the hell were they doing?

“Aliya? Didn't expect to see you here. It's so nice to finally meet you!"

Consumed by a blinding storm of emotions, it takes Aliya a moment to register that she’s already standing hands on hips, scowling, in front of Raisman - who’s still stuck in a ridiculous position - and that girl, whom she now recognizes to be Eythora Thorsdottir.

Under different circumstances, Aliya would have introduced herself with a polite smile. She would have told the Dutch gymnast how she admired her style of artistic gymnastics. It was rare to see someone with such an intuitive sense of performance on the floor. She might have even good-naturedly whipped out the few limited Dutch words she knows. Aliya had heard only good things about Thorsdottir, had no reason to think ill of her.

Until now.

Now, she wouldn’t give a damn if Thorsdottir turned out to be the Mother Theresa of artistic gymnastics. The fact that she was pulling some amateurish stunt involving way more touching of Raisman than was necessary - that is, any touching at all - gives her enough reason to hate her with every single atom in her body.

But all the smouldering rage Aliya is throwing her way doesn’t seem to affect the girl. Eythora is still watching her expectantly, hands still on Aly's waist. Aliya feels the muscles in her jaw tighten. As she returns Thorsdottir’s now amused gaze with the force of a harsh Siberian winter, she realizes the Dutch gymnast is making it very clear that whatever is going on, she's not one to be daunted.

A contrast to Aly, whose shocked eyes are instead fixed on Aliya like she’s seeing a ghost.

“Aliya? What are you doing here?”

From her full stretch, Aly had immediately whipped around to see who Eythora was speaking to. She had even managed to do it without falling flat on her face, although not without a huge effort.

“I ask same. For you.” Scorning Eythora, Aliya directs her frosty non-answer towards Aly.

Eythora smoothly brushes off the slight and sticks out her hand. “Hey Aliya. I’m Eythora,” she says amicably, as if they were really were just two people who'd met through a mutual friend, and not two world-known gymnasts who definitely knew who the other was. She puts on a smile that pretends as if nothing explosive is lurking just beneath the surface between the three of them. But the way her keen eyes flick back and forth, calculating the complex equation of unspoken feelings, tells Aliya she knows more than she’s letting on.

The Russian eyes the hand distastefully, like it’s a personal insult. She wants to make it abundantly clear that she isn’t here to make friends, much less give a newly sworn enemy any satisfaction of being treated civilly. On the other hand, her better nature is urging her to do the bare minimum that civility requires and just shake the damn hand - but she can’t. Not when the image of Thorsdottir all over Aly is still replaying over and over in her mind.

A dragged out moment sucks all the pleasantness out of the morning air, before Aly finally springs into action.

“Eythora, I’m so sorry. I’ll be back in just a second.“ Aly shoots the Dutch gymnast a deeply apologetic look. The girl calmly assures her that it’s fine, and that she’ll wait for her right there on the lawn, causing Aliya to scowl even more.

Aly grabs Aliya’s arm and drags her away, out of earshot. “Why are you being so rude? That's not you. What is your problem?” Aly hisses between her teeth, as soon as she’s sure Eythora can’t hear them.

My problem?

Wrenching her arm free, Aliya fiercely points to herself - “Nyet. Problem not here,” - before stabbing a finger furiously against Aly’s shoulder, making her yelp in surprise. “Problem here.”

“Excuse me?” Aly shuts her eyes momentarily, massaging her temples with her fingertips.

“What you are doing with this girl?” It's not a question.

“I’m not doing anything! I just happened to walk past, and Eythora was nice enough to teach me some exercises to help. Anyway,” Aly shakes her head vigorously mid-sentence, “why do I have to explain myself to you?”

“I not want explanation,” Aliya retorts disdainfully. “Only asking you not to be with other girl on my…” struggling for awhile to really figure out what it is she wants to say, Aliya waves her hand towards the footpath, “road.”

“Your road?”

Aliya coolly crosses her arms, glaring. “Da.”

“Honestly, it’s like you Russians think you own everything.”

Without skipping a beat, Aliya shoots back dryly, “At least Russians know what we own. Not like Americans, always thinking they own what belong someone else.”

“Oh okay. So we're going there,” Aly snaps. She isn't one to lose her temper easily, but Aliya can nevertheless see her struggling to contain it. “We have enough to fight about without debating global politics in coded language.”

“Raisman, you think this is fight?” Aliya arches a condescending eyebrow.

Aly throws her hands up, clearly frustrated. “What do you want from me, Aliya? Didn’t you want me to stay as far away from you as possible? Why are you even talking to me?” Her voice notches up several volumes higher.

“I not ask you to stay away. Not from me. Never.” Didn’t this thick-headed American see that Thorsdottir was trying to take advantage of her? Didn’t she know her own reluctance to throw herself into a time machine, back to the heartache of London, wasn’t signal for ‘go, find a random girl’s arms and run into them’?

Surprise lights up on Aly’s face at the resentment in Aliya’s tone. “Let’s see. You told me that I’m nothing. Then you told me that we should just be normal competitors. Then we kissed. But when I told you that I love you, you told me to ‘take care of myself’, and practically ran away from me,” Aly rapidly ticks off each thing one by one on her fingers. “How else am I supposed to interpret that?”

“Yes. I say all these things. But I never say stay away. And never think you find someone so quick.” Even Aliya knows she’s starting to sound just a little unreasonable, but so what? She has a right to be upset after what she just saw.

“So you expect me to hang around, but not get too close to you, and stay away from everyone else. God, you are really something!”

Aliya frowns defensively. “Something what?”

“No, nothing comes after the ‘something’. It’s just an expression. To say that you’re really… impossible. That’s it. You’re impossible.”

Before Aliya can respond with more vitriol of her own, Aly abruptly cuts her off, her eyes widening. “Wait. I know what this is.”

Annoyed at being derailed by an English technicality, Aliya puffs out her lips and glares in the direction of where Eythora is standing with her back towards them. “Da, what is this, Raisman? I want know too.”

“You’re jealous.”

“Jea - lous?” Aliya rolls the word off her tongue, then narrows her eyes and shrugs indifferently, the way she always does when she doesn’t recognize a word. Or when she does recognize it, but chooses to pretend like she doesn’t.

“Jealous. I can’t believe it. You, jealous.” Aly repeats the word, probably more times than is necessary. It grates on Aliya’s nerves. “It means you hate seeing me with other people.” She shakes her head. “But I don’t get it. You have someone, Aliya. Your boyfriend, in Moscow. What is it to you who I hang out with, who I end up with, who I kiss? It shouldn’t matter to you.”

“She kiss you?” Aliya is immediately beside herself, those few words being the only part of Aly’s rant that had jumped out at her and felt like someone had thrown a bucket of loose razor blades right at her.

“No!” Aly yells, before suddenly remembering that they’re not exactly in a private setting appropriate for this kind of heated exchange. She lowers her voice, though clearly still incensed. “Of course she didn’t. Are you crazy? My point is, you have a boyfriend.”

Aliya freezes. She had completely forgotten about the phantom boyfriend she was supposedly seeing back home. It pours cold water over her rage, over the overwhelming relief she had felt upon hearing Aly say the idea of kissing Thorsdottir would be crazy. “Aly - ” she begins, but Aly doesn't let her get another word in.

“How do you think that makes me feel, knowing you actually have someone back home, waiting for you? There isn’t even anything happening here,” Aly gestures wildly back at Eythora, “but you think you have a right to be rude to my friend and tell me what I can and can’t do, who I can and can’t spend my time with? What is wrong with you?”

Her words ricochet like an explosion, all thoughts of avoiding a fight now out the window. The fact that Aly is being so unusually articulate underscores just how mad she is.

Aliya inhales, an uncomfortable pall spreading over her. “Aly, boyfriend is not in Moscow,” she says, distressed.

“What?” Aly covers her mouth in horror. “Oh my god. Are you saying he’s here? In Rio? You brought your boyfriend to Rio, and all this time I’ve been…” She looks positively sick.

Not foreseeing this as the way the truth would come out, Aliya shuffles her feet miserably. To rip the bandaid off as quickly as possible, she lets it out in a single rushed breath, “No, you not understand. Boyfriend not in Moscow. Not anywhere. There is no boyfriend.”

“What?” Aly repeats. She stares at Aliya, dumbfounded.

The Russian’s raven eyes turn ashen, feeling guilty for not coming forward with this sooner. She doesn’t know why she didn’t. Was it a petty desire to get back at Aly for abandoning her all those years ago? A buried, disconcerting aspiration to drag Aly through the same kind of pain Aliya herself had gone through? Whatever it was, it should have been beneath her to keep this ruse going for as long as it had, no matter what Aly had done in the past.

“No boyfriend,” Aly says numbly. “But Maria… she said - ”

“She lie. She is,” Aliya sighs, "only try to protect me."

The American’s transformation as the truth sinks in plays out like a tragic film before Aliya’s eyes. She sees the confusion turn into horror, then utter relief, which slowly but surely darkens into outrage.

“You knew?” Aly hisses. “Why didn’t you say anything? Do you know how much it hurt to think you had… well that you… especially when I’ve never…” The girl chokes up, her hand coming up to wipe away a tear that’s escaped out the corner of her eye.

She really does care... Something twists in Aliya's heart. She never meant to hurt Aly like this.

“I don’t know what to think anymore," Aly continues in a strangled voice. "Am I still nothing to you, Aliya? Just some girl you’re competing against at the Olympics? If that’s all I am, why did you even come over? Why are you still here?” Her words rush out like an enraged waterfall.

When Aliya remains quiet as a tomb, Aly challenges in a tight voice, “Are you going to say anything?”

It’s not that Aliya has nothing to say. It’s that the sheer amount she wants to say has completely overwhelmed her. Seda’s piercing comments in the locker room the other day have taken on a whole new clarity. Even if falling for Aly had come at the cost of years of confusion and pain, it had all been worth it. Being Aliya Mustafina, she was always going to have said the word ‘ice’ to Aly Raisman, no matter how many chances she was given to relive that moment. Everything beautiful and tragic that happened from that point on was meant to happen. Getting hurt was just part of it.

Aliya can't muster the courage to give herself to Aly in quite the same way as before - the scars of the past are too deep, the fears of the future too real. But the stubborn connection between them would never allow her to completely cut Aly from her life. It clearly doesn’t tolerate the possibility of Aly being with anyone else, either.

Of course, she can’t say any of this out loud. It sounds selfish in her head, simply because it is. This in-between world, where she wants to keep Aly at arm’s length while not allowing her to stray too far, would only condemn them both to a torturous kind of half-existence, neither of them able to move forward with their lives.

A heavy tiredness submerges Aliya from head to toe. She sees Aly’s face soften, then crease into a mournful frown, her expression reflecting Aliya's fatigue right back to her.

“Aly, I’m sorry," Aliya begins cautiously. "For not tell you this sooner. I want… I wish for things to be like what it is, before,” she whispers. She starts reaching out a hand, but then snaps it back to her side. “Before it hurt like this, always. But you, me, we have too much past. History that is too much, too heavy.”

There aren't words to properly express in words the remorse bubbling up to the surface inside Aliya. But then she’s never really needed them, not with Aly. She knows it shows in the way her eyes cloud over into iridescent pools of anguish, how her shoulders slump as if gravity is pulling on them a thousand times stronger than usual.

Finally, she hears Aly reply quietly, “No, I understand. I get it.” The girl lets out a defeated sigh. “It’s not like I’m blameless in all of this either."

The futility of their situation rises like a poisonous mist, choking Aliya and bringing small, despairing tears to her eyes. But before they can roll down her cheeks, a sudden shadow of hope projects onto Aly’s face, catching Aliya by surprise.

“How about we start over? Wipe the slate clean,” Aly offers carefully, scanning for Aliya’s reaction.

“Start... over?” Aliya echoes uncertainly.

Acting on either a stroke of total craziness or total genius, Aly suddenly holds her hand out, as if she’s greeting Aliya for the very first time. “Hi. I’m Aly Raisman.”

Aliya stares at her like she’s lost it. The emotional strain of everything must have finally broken her.

“Aly. I do not think - ”

“You’re Aliya Mustafina. I recognize your face. It’s the one that rarely smiles and looks like it wants to snap people in half.”

The iciness sets into Aliya’s features before she realizes she’s just proving the girl’s point. “I do not snap people in half,” Aliya says stiffly, trying to rearrange her face into a softer expression.

A chuckle. “Well, I know a girl who would disagree. She has a thing for jokes. Knock-knock jokes, to be exact.”

Aliya stares at her, remembering the girl's long string of ill-fated attempts at getting her to appreciate her particularly lame brand of humor.

“She would say it’s very hard to make you smile,” Aly continues.

A small grin twitches at the corners of Aliya’s lips. “This girl… she is American?”

“Yeah. I think you might even know her.”

The intimate memory of those words swirl around them for a moment, one of many gossamer threads tying them to days gone by. A sadness stirs inside Aliya, but she pushes it aside.

“Many years, and she still not know American joke is terrible. It is not my wrong they are not making me smile.”

At that, Aly lets out a laugh that comes from deep within her. It’s a laugh Aliya has missed. A lot. Time ebbs and flows so easily around Aly - there’s rarely anything the girl says or does that doesn’t make Aliya feel that life is lighter and better. It’s why the barely perceptible smile on Aliya's face grows bigger, something that doesn't escape Aly's attention.

“You know, judging by that smile, maybe American jokes aren’t as terrible as you think,” Aly suggests teasingly.

“Maybe not jokes make me smile. Maybe it is the American.”

They exchange grins. An extended, but not uncomfortable silence follows. If Aliya hadn’t known better, it’s almost like they’re flirting with each other all over again.

“Aliya,” Aly finally speaks, her bright eyes growing serious. “Do you think we could maybe just be friends? People who aren’t crazy in love with each other, or aren’t crazy angry at each other all the time. Just friends.”

Aliya hesitates. There was a bag of mixed feelings around being ‘just friends’ with Aly Raisman. For one, she didn’t even know if it was possible, let alone how it would work. But for now, it sounded like a feasible solution to their impasse. She knows she needs Aly in her life somewhere, even if it isn’t going to be the same as before.

Aliya finally gives a tiny nod. “Friends.”

Aly releases a breath. “Okay. Friends.” She repeats it, like a strange concept to try and wrap her head around. As they stand wordlessly facing each other, Aliya looks towards the winding footpath, realizing she’s been gone for too long, but unwilling to leave Aly just yet.

“You have to go?” Aly asks, seeming to sense Aliya’s thoughts. She glances back towards where Eythora is still waiting. A crease appears in her forehead, making visible her uncertainty about what to do next. “Did you want to join us? Eythora and I were about to head back to the cafeteria.”

A hint of spite zips through Aliya’s mind at the mention of Thorsdottir’s name, but she firmly reigns it in. If she was going to get used to being friends with Raisman, she was going to have to get used to not being so possessive over her being around other girls, too.

“No, I am already late. I must go. Please tell Eythora sorry - ” Aliya struggles to articulate exactly what it is she wants to apologize for. “It is all mistake. When it is better time, I will say sorry myself.”

“Okay. Well. I guess I’ll see you around.”

Aliya wonders if she's just imagining the reluctance with which Aly said that. She makes as if to turn around, but then promptly remembers something. “One more thing, Raisman.”

Aly's soulful eyes latch onto her. “Yeah?”

“Good luck. For today. I know you will be strong for your team.”

When Aly breaks into one of her beautiful smiles that fills the entire space around her with a glow, Aliya is reminded of what the eighth wonder of the world is.

“Thank you. And good luck to you, too.”

Aliya wishes the girl would stop smiling now; she’s forgotten how incredibly distracting it can be. “No, it is okay,” she hurries to reply.

Aly gives her a puzzled look. “No?”

“Russia never need luck.”

The American laughs. “Well, we don’t need it either - I just said it to be polite.”

“Even you win, you will win because of Russia.”

“Why, because you and your girls are planning to hand us the team gold? That’s sweet of you, but we can take it from you just fine ourselves.”

Smiling, Aliya puffs out her chest. “No. Because floor music.”

Aly stops short, confused. “Floor music?”

“Da. Your floor music. Yablochko, from Glière’s Krasnyi Mak. And Kalinka. You think I not see you steal our songs? If you win, you will owe Russia for this.”

Aliya's face stretches into a triumphant smile when Aly freezes, clearly struggling to think of an acceptable comeback. “You might have a point,” the girl eventually concedes. Then, in a softer murmur, “I didn’t think you knew.”

There’s a drumming that starts beating against Aliya's ribcage. Of course I knew. But she doesn’t give an audible reply, only holds Aly’s gaze for as long as she’s able to without feeling like she might drown in them, which doesn’t end up being very long at all.

No longer having any valid reason to stretch out their time together further, Aliya smiles one last time, excuses herself and turns to make her way towards the footpath. She notes with hidden pleasure the barely contained disappointment in Aly’s own goodbye.

As the Rio sun ascends higher above the calm ocean in the distance, Aliya squares her shoulders, her steady strides taking her closer to where teammates should be rousing themselves out of fitful, pre-team final sleep right about now. Despite the pressure of the upcoming day, Aliya feels light; a long-lost sense of rightness with the world has worked through and loosened every muscle in her body. Knowing she and Aly Raisman have found some semblance of peace with each other is surprisingly liberating.

Maybe this new alignment of things, where Aly Raisman is still part of her world, if only as a friend, might actually work.

Friend.

Aliya sounds the word out in Russian.

What a strange concept to wrap her head around.

#raistafina #fanfic #second thoughts #first times

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yenneferw · 7 years

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You thirsty bitch jfc: In the Flesh, Supernatural, Hannibal, Black Sails

In the Flesh:

my all-time ultimate fave character: Simon Monroe have you ever seen him in a sweater he is beautiful

a character I didn’t used to like but now do: Jem was really shitty in the beginning but she got a lot better really quickly

a character I used to like but now don’t: the show’s not long enough for me to hate anyone lmaooooo

a character I’m indifferent about: idk some of those side characters they focused on for a hot second. I could see what they were going for but I just wanted my boys and Amy

a character who deserved better: Amy :-(

a ship I’ve never been able to get into: I think I liked all of the ships they gave us fortunately

a ship I’ve never been able to get over: Obvs Simon and Kieren and Kieren and Rick. Iconic. When will your faves EVER

a cute, low-key ship: Philip and Amy were cute low-key

my favourite storyline/moment: I really liked Kieren’s acceptance of his zombiehood and all and also I relaly like that Simon exists

a storyline that never should have been written: Mmm Amy died and that’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me

my first thoughts on the show: Ooh cool zombies

my thoughts now: I’m so in love with Simon and Kieren and Amy and I would die for them and this is the best show in the world and it’s the worst thing ever that it was canceled and I’m almost certainly dead bc of this show

Supernatural:

my all-time ultimate fave character: Dean or Cas for sure it kinda fluctuates

a character I didn’t used to like but now do: I didn’t used to like Meg bc she was a bitch in the beginning but then she was fucking awesome

a character I used to like but now don’t: I liked Ruby and then she turned into a bitch so I didn’t liek her in the end

a character I’m indifferent about: Idk I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head

a character who deserved better: Charlie. Charlie Charlie Charlie Charlie. If you don’t think her death was bullshit then I don’t know if you were watching the sae show that I was

a ship I’ve never been able to get into: That Charlie/Dorothy thing? Was that a big thing? I can’t remember. But I do support Charlie being alive with a girlfriend

a ship I’ve never been able to get over: Destiel lmaoooooooo

a cute, low-key ship: Mm I think I remember thinking Dean/Benny was cute

an unpopular ship but I still enjoyed it: what ships are unpopular? I feel so disconnected from the fandom anymore. Probably megstiel

a ship that was totally wrong and never should have happened: Sam and that Amelia girl. Who was she. Why was her only purpose manpain. I’m so tired

my favourite storyline/moment: Demon Dean was tragically short-lived and I wish spn would just keep turning him into a demon like we do lmao but also when Cas comes onscreen? Iconic

a storyline that never should have been written: All the damn dropped plotlines I used to know a bunch but I can’t remember them now. Also does homophobia, misogyny, and racism count. Bc lmao,,,,,,,

my first thoughts on the show: Unfortunately I was a superwholock bitch so idk what my first thoughts were but they were probably embarrassing

my thoughts now: the horse is dead. does its corpse really need beaten anymore. But also I’m still gonna watch it bc they own my ass. Could’ve been so much cooler if you remove a) homophobia b) racism c) misogyny d) manpain and added instead More Castiel

Hannibal:

my all-time ultimate fave character: Will Graham I’m so

a character I didn’t used to like but now do: Idk did I dislike anyone? I mean I never liked Freddie but who did. I probably didn’t like Abel Gideon or whatever at first but he was a really cool serial killer and probably my favorite one of them on the show so

a character I used to like but now don’t: I started like Jack less toward the end. Everyone was going bad. It was a wild time. Like if you like falling from grace plots then Hannibal Is For You bc that’s literally every single goddamned character except pure gay Brian and Zeller in the background

a character I’m indifferent about: Idk I was pretty attached to everyone. Maybe Bedelia actually. I didn’t really have any thoughts on her

a character who deserved better: Beverly I kinda wish they hadn’t killed her off actually

a ship I’ve never been able to get into: I think ppl ship Hannibal and Bedelia which nah

a ship I’ve never been able to get over: Hannigram how iconic

a cute, low-key ship: Alana/Margot also super fucking iconic I wish they had more

a ship that was totally wrong and never should have happened: Hannibal and Alana but I think that’s obvious considering he was high key manipulating her

my favourite storyline/moment: The first part of s3 as a whole was really good but I also like the innocence of s1 but also the subtle fall from grace in s2. I just really love this show okay it was a very good show

a storyline that never should have been written: I don’t know if there was one it was a really well-written and good show imo.

my first thoughts on the show: I found this show when Sherlock was kind of dying off bc of the fucking shitshow that was s4 and someone said it was basically better Sherlock and I was like alright I’ll go for it

my thoughts now: Lord. Heck. I love this show so much I should really rewatch it because I feel like I’m losing some of my love for it

Black Sails:

my all-time ultimate fave character: James Flint. A gay icon. When will your fave ever. I’m sobbing right now okay I love James Flint more than I love most things he is literally the best thing to ever happen to anything ever and I would die for him. Honorable mention: Max. I cry when she breathes she’s so perfect

a character I didn’t used to like but now do: Charles Vane. This show is really good at humanizing characters. I still have a lot of problems with Vane but I like where he was going in the end and I appreciate that he martyred himself. Also Teach for similar reasons, and also because his interactions with Jack did a good job of humanizing him I think. Plus his execution? Best martyrdom ever

a character I used to like but now don’t: Eleanor. I sort of liked her again for a hot second but I just didn’t like her after a while. She was going down a path I couldn’t get behind

a character I’m indifferent about: Go big or go home I’m indifferent about no one

a character who deserved better: Everyone they’re all so perfect I’m crying. Idk maybe Miranda tho like I completely agree with why she had to die for the story but I definitely had a Moment when she died and then I cried a lot about it

a ship I’ve never been able to get into: Go big or go home motherfuckers. I guess maybe Eleanor/Rogers tho I don’t know that I ever felt anything for them. Until s4 I wasn’t convinced on silverflint bc I knew the ending tho but then ep1 of s4 and I was sold, on board, and ready to die for them

a ship I’ve never been able to get over: flinthamilton when will your faves EVER also maxanne CHRIST I love them with my entire heart and soul and I cry constantly. Also silverflint at this point I’m in love with all of them I’m sobbing right now

a cute, low-key ship: John and Madi are cute. And I’ve always liked the background relationship between Featherstone and Idelle idk

an unpopular ship but I still enjoyed it: I feel like ppl don’t really ship Gates and James but I def did

a ship that was totally wrong and never should have happened: I don’t think that it shouldn’t ahve happened because it was integral to their storylines and their characters, but Eleanor/Charles Vane. I didn’t like them but just because they weren’t right for each other at all. But their relationship did largely influence how they interacted with the storyline and each other and stuff so it was important.

my favourite storyline/moment: When James or Max or Anne walk on screen? Iconic. But no I liked when James was slipping after Miranda and did all the shit like blowing up the town. It was just very exciting and I was really attached to Miranda so I was backing him completely. But I also really just like s2 in general.

a storyline that never should have been written: I don’t think anything shouldn’t have been written. It’s such a good show that I can’t think of anything that I really didnt like as a whole. I’m sad James and John are splitting apart I guess but I completely understand why it has to happen and I know Thomas is at the end so it’s okay

my first thoughts on the show: I saw two men kissing with the tag black sails and was desperate for representation so I made us watch it

my thoughts now: Oh my god there is literally no tv show better than this show. NOthing will ever be good enough for me because of this show. I want to explode every time I think of it I have so much love in my heart for it

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micaramel · 7 years

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Innocently Damaged

In his captivating series, Understanding Human – Iceland, Philadelphia-based fine art photographer Kory Zuccarelli explores the essence of what it means to be human. Using atmospheric Iceland’s lush landscape as his backdrop, Zuccarelli tells visual stories inspired by his own personal experiences and the obstacles he has faced.

Each enchanting photograph features a model—sometimes, Zuccarelli himself—elegantly posing in wild nature. Characterized by a rocky coastline, mossy terrain, and everlasting twilight, the series’ scenery conveys a moodiness that aptly complements the serious and somber expressions of its subjects. Though each photographic is aesthetically enchanting, the existence of their back stories culminates in a more powerful and poignant study of the human condition.

We had the opportunity to to speak with Kory about his stunning series. Below, he shares a bit about the inspiration, intent, and process behind both the beautiful project and his practice in general.

A Simpler Life

What first prompted you to pursue photography?

When I was in high school, I was battling cancer and there wasn’t much that I could do. I was restricted from most public places because I had little to no immune system to fight off any of the most basic of colds. I was being homeschooled while living in a new town, so I sort of was living in this bubble, with few interactions outside of the people that surrounded me, consisting of my family and doctors. I had a lot of time on my hands, but the majority of this time was spent feeling the side effects of my medical treatment.

Photography was something that helped me get out of bed and exercise by walking in the backyard and along the trails we have in the back of the property. I didn’t know what exactly I was doing yet, but I knew I wanted to learn, so I would take pictures of everything I could in my short reach. I loved showing my photos to the doctors at the hospital and to anyone who was visiting the house. The recognition and praise really helped me in a low point of my life and having a passion that drew excitement for me was a powerful element to incorporate into my limited routine. Once I was able to return to high school, I looked to do anything photo related by working on photography projects in my art classes (our school didn’t have the resources for a photography class or club), working as the photographer for our school newspaper, and taking night classes for early college credit at a nearby community college.

Untamed Delusions of A Broken Heart

How would you describe your style, and what inspires it?

My style of photography is focused on storytelling, whether it’s derived from personal experiences or experiences I see the characters in my work reacting to in the painterly, colorful, and sometimes dark and surreal worlds I put them inside of. Before I wanted to be a photographer, I thought I was going to pursue a writing career. I loved creative writing assignments in school and would be consistently filling my notebook with scenes in my head, short stories, sketches, or poems as a way to express myself. After studying the medium and understanding more about the art of photography, I realized I could intertwine my passions for creative writing into the work I was creating.

Let Loss Reveal What Was Lost

Where did the idea for your series, Understanding Human – Iceland, originate?

For a few years, I’ve been shooting a series of fine art portraits called Understanding Human, and this body of work shot in Iceland is an extension of that. The idea around this series revolves around the aspects of what some like to call the human condition; yearning, hardships, seeking guidance, and self-reflection are some of the characteristics I portray in my work for this ongoing series. I believe Understanding Human started as a way for me to view the world beyond of my personal norm in a visual medium and as an opportunity to think outside of the box when it came to executing some of the concepts and ideas I wanted to express in my photographs.

Why did you choose Iceland as a setting for your work?

The idea to take this series abroad to Iceland started as a suggestion by a close group of friends of mine, we call ourselves “Le Fromagi’s” (meaning “The Cheesies”), and live all over the United States and Europe. We had all met on a photography retreat in France, hosted by Brooke Shaden. We all had great chemistry and instantly bonded. After our initial trip, we all knew we wanted to come together again for an epic photo adventure. One by one, we started teasing each other with beautiful locations from all around the world on where we might go next, and we all kept getting drawn in by the beauty and diversity of Iceland. So, on the anniversary of our France retreat, all 18 of us came together again and traveled across the countryside in four RVs like a little family. It was simply amazing.

A Crack in Reality

What are some of the stories being told throughout this series?

In Iceland, I came prepared with ideas I wanted to explore in my notebook, but the landscapes also provided bundles of inspiration for new stories that I wanted to tell.

We were on the shores of the Jökulsárlón Glacial Lagoon, where giant blue and white boulders of ice decorated the black sand beach for miles. Positioned between the crashing waves and the shoreline was an iceberg that caught my eye. I stared at it as the sky grew darker and pellets of ice and rain fell on me. To my right, some of my friends were walking over from shooting one of their concepts, and I noticed my friend Lieke dressed in one of the gowns we brought along with us, buried beneath the layers of coats and sweaters she was wearing. From that moment, this story of a long-lost love grew in my mind.

The heart of a young woman growing colder as she waits for her one true love to return home, making each passing moment harder for her to keep warm, enduring the elements as the water around her turns into a throne of ice for her to embrace and sit upon. After telling Lieke about the concept, she agreed to pose on the iceberg, but we had to move fast. Not only was the tide coming in, but the temperature was dropping and the sun had almost completely crawled beneath the horizon. Half an hour later, it was dark and the iceberg had been picked up by the tide and brought back out to sea. This was one of those instances where traveling has influenced inspiration that struck me as I explored a new part of the world I was unfamiliar with, helping me produce one of my favorite photographs.

There She Waits on Her Throne of Ice

Preparing for the trip, I remember sketching out the main idea for another photograph I was looking forward to shooting, Fracturing Conformity. This photograph was shot with the help of Jen Brook (the central model) and Marisa White (the hooded figures), at a point where we all had pulled over to do some shooting on our way to the Eldhraun lava fields. In this concept, I wanted to highlight how diversity is an important thing to have in a society and that we don’t need to be lead by a single point of view our entire lives; that there should be room in this world to grow and evolve.

Similar to this narrative, I shot The Mask is A Lie. This was a self-portrait inspired by a declaration I had written a year prior to myself, about being more honest with myself, stop worrying about the opinions of other people so much and so often, and to remove a facade I had built around myself for others to see.

Fracturing Conformity

The Mask is the Lie

What role does nature play in this project?

Iceland had been on my bucket list of places to visit for a long time and to have the opportunity to travel there with an amazing group of friends was just icing on the cake. As we explored the country, we would regularly glance at each other and ask if what we were seeing was real. The Icelandic environment is scattered with lava fields, waterfalls, glaciers, and volcanoes; features not commonly found here in the northeast of the United States.

As we drove through the windy countryside, passing by isolated farms and small villages, the nature of the country inspired my friends and myself to create and have fun. The relaxed schedule we had made for ourselves let us take in a deep breath and appreciate the beauty of the landscape surrounding us and the culture of Iceland. This allowed us to really soak in the environment and not stress out about what we were shooting or how much we were creating. Feeling the spongey moss beneath my feet and breathing in the fresh air while thick bulbous clouds rolled overhead helped me to connect with where we were and had a great influence on the work I produced on this trip.

Your photographs have a dreamy, almost surreal feel to them. Did you feel that Iceland’s landscape aptly facilitated this aesthetic?

Without a doubt. When I’m creating new images for Understanding Human, I aim to capture the natural beauty of the environment that the characters are interacting with. It’s a part of the story, and Iceland fit symbiotically with my aesthetic, providing some of the most beautiful and otherworldly landscapes I’ve ever seen. There’s an abundance of visual pleasures all over the country and I wish I could visit more often. I traveled there near the end of the spring and with the advantage of shooting almost any time of day I wanted. During that time of year, that part of the world only has about 3 dark-hours each day, which I found out also exaggerated the sunsets to last almost double their normal durations compared to back home.

The Prayer of Peace

Did you find shooting in such a rugged environment challenging?

Not particularly! It was a lot of fun and I felt like I was in my element. Most of my work is shot outdoors, so it’s more of my preferred environment to work in. We had planned our trip during the warmer season to be more accessible for us to travel around and navigate, though we missed the right time of year to see the northern lights and explore the ice caves. In our RVs, there were some steep hills we crossed and sharp, mountainside turns we had to make, so I do have admiration for my friends who drove. We hiked to waterfalls with photo props and equipment and climbed cliffs to eat birthday cake during the extended twilight hours. And I almost got rammed by a mother sheep while exploring a hillside!

If there was anything to worry about, though, it would be the surprise squalls that would frequently pass by, so having protection for our gear was really our main concern. We also learned that in frigid temperatures, camera/phone battery life is significantly reduced.

You cite your love of adventure as an artistic muse. How has travel influenced your work?

It’s always a good idea to come prepared with ideas while traveling, but I never want to let those ideas limit myself from what the environment can sometimes offer up to help tell and express the mood for a story I have in mind. When I’m not shooting personal work, I also work as a traveling photographer, shooting virtual tours for businesses that are integrated into the Google Maps app, through my company, LCP360. This job has allowed me to travel all over the country and I love visiting new areas of my own backyard.

Pause

We can’t wait to see more of your beautiful photographs in the future. Do you have any upcoming projects? Are you planning to travel anywhere soon?

Thank you. I’ve had a lot of time to plan new ideas and do some creative writing. Soon after my trip to Iceland, I was in a bad accident, involving a driver that was texting and driving. The driver ran me over while I was walking over a crosswalk during a short break I was taking from editing photographs from this trip, which resulted in severe injuries to my leg, ankle, and back that I’ve spent months now healing and rehabilitating from. This sidetrack has put me on hold more recently, but I’m finally getting back into a place where I can return to more normalcy in my creative process.

The Fromagi’s came together again and we traveled to Sedona, Arizona, where I shot a few new images for Understanding Human. I’ve taken a small step back from releasing new work, but I’m looking forward to working on and sharing new series and individual images later this year. In the meantime, I’ve been working to have a store on my website prepared to start selling limited edition and special edition prints from the Understanding Human series. There are currently no solid travel plans for me yet, but there is some chatter of an Ohio trip amongst other creative friends I know and some talk about a Portugal trip, too.

Shot of the group in Iceland

Kory Zuccarelli: Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Behance

My Modern Met granted permission to use photos by Kory Zuccarelli.

The post Interview: Cancer Survivor Travels to Idyllic Iceland to Explore the Human Condition appeared first on My Modern Met.

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