***Nearly 3 weeks into the hiatus and I am missing Magnus and Alec desperately. Matthew Daddario voice: *When is it gonna end?” Siiigh. But well, what better way to spent the hiatus then reading some great Malec fanfics, right? Right. Because I have read a lot of amazing fics incl. discovering some great new authors. And now that autumn is coming…. the perfect time to read more.
Also, I am overwhelmed how many notes the last rec post got and how much you all enjoy(ed) it. So I hope this 5th edition will get a lot of love, too. Again, let me know if you liked this and if I should continue doing this. But now, have fun reading, pumpkins.***
Working for Magnus isn’t easy. Magnus is out of control and Alec has to yell more often than not to get him to listen to him. He hates everything formal because it means he has to watch his mouth. Most importantly, Magnus is an incorrigible flirt.
Which would be alright if Alec wasn’t utterly, irremediably, unfathomably in love with him.
Alec is fairly certain he is the luckiest man in America. On earth. Possibly in the entire universe.
He slowly started to convince himself of the now indisputable fact when Magnus and him started dating a year ago after the ceremony that crowned Magnus as King of the World (or Best Actor, but Alec isn’t always objective when it comes to his boyfriend). A lot happened in a year, and Alec knows eventually the wheel is bound to spin and his luck might dim and vanish but as of now, he still feels like the luckiest man on earth, and he is going to make the most of it for as long as it lasts.
Prince of Hell Magnus Bane, was tired of his life in Hell. Every day was the same; condemned souls being punished for their wrong doings, demons feasting on the worst humanity had to offer, two or three deals with a few greedy humans. It was dull, uneventful. Boring.
So Magnus packed his bags and moved to New York City. As the owner of the lavishing club Pandemonium at the heart of Manhattan, Magnus enjoyed a life without worries for five years, until the fateful night where a former client was murdered on the streets.
It was then that he met no-nonsense Homicide Detective Alec Lightwood, owner of incorruptible morals and the tightest ass Magnus has ever seen. Earth was fun, after all.
Confused, Magnus followed Rafael’s line of site to the opposite side of the train where a young man sat, pulling silly faces. However, the moment he realised Magnus was staring his face flushed and he stopped, averting his eyes as if he hadn’t just answered all of Magnus’ prayers. In more ways than one as well because not only had he calmed Raf down but he was gorgeous.
“And you, Mr Bane. Thank you for taking the time.”
The kinky, shameless smut that occurs right after the rest of the clan leaders leave. Magnus and Alec make excellent and creative use of Alec’s new office and its expansive mahogany desk… and its sturdy door.
A ‘no kissing, looking at suggestively or touching’ rule was applied when it came to Magnus and Alec at the downworlder meeting. Magnus respected that, respected his man, and tried his best as soon as he walked through the doors of the institute. But now, back in his loft, with the night fallen and Alec returning through the front door from a demon attack, looking battered and exhausted, Magnus couldn’t help but keep the game going.
They stay on the balcony for a while, listening to the sounds of New York at night. Alec noticed the glasses and the discarded pillows when he walked in, but he doesn’t want to break the comfortable silence they’ve fallen into. He looks over at Magnus, and by the angel, he looks beautiful, breathtaking. but the longer Alec watches him, the more he can see the makeup and hair and the clothes for what they really are.
Alec captures the defined line of Magnus’ jaw between eager yet clumsy fingers, tilting his face upwards as they gasp into each other’s mouths, exchanging fevered gusts of breath. Magnus seizes the swollen flesh of Alec’s bottom lip with gentle teeth, nipping gingerly, suckling with avid hunger and Alec’s groan resonates loud and clear throughout the room. By the angel, he wants this man desperately; his need has become a physical ache, pulsating through his nerve endings and coiling strictly around his burning muscles.
Unpacking sucked. And Magnus had only brought like half of his things. Okay, maybe two-thirds. But whatever, it didn’t matter. What did matter was that Magnus was sweating from carrying boxes, the cottage had no air conditioning, and he was super close to packing everything back up and driving back to New York in about three seconds.
Or the one where heartbreak is a pain in the ass, Magnus is forced to spend the summer in a small cottage in the hopes of finding his passion for design again, and manages to piss off the cute neighbor after only being there for two days.
“The only real pain in life is between hanging on and letting go.”
Magnus is still asleep; Alec can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against his own back, and Alec takes the few minutes just to enjoy being wrapped up in Magnus’s arms. He looks down at their hands threaded together, resting against his stomach. He loves the contrast between them; tan and pale, long and lean, deep red nail polish and short, bitten nails. There’s something comforting there too. How different they can be, but how well they fit together. Alec has a moment of feeling like they were made to fit together. It might be stupid, it brings a blush to his cheeks, but a warm feeling settles in his stomach at the thought. He likes that.
“Do you -” Alec started, hissing his teeth in pain and looking up at Magnus. “Do you have any more of that free of charge warlock TLC?”
“What are you -?” Magnus asked, before the memory hit him full force and he tried not to laugh, because Alec was hurt, god damn it. But Alec was smiling up at him and his eyes were shining bright full of hope and love, so Magnus leaned down and kissed him.
Alec feels all his love for the man in his arms bubble up to the surface looking at him like this. Sleep rumpled and peaceful, his hair is a soft mess that Alec almost can’t wait to run his fingers through when Magnus wakes up, his lips so kissable and slightly open. There is nothing better in this world than being able to wake up to this he thinks idly.
Alec’s breath catches nearly every time he looks at Magnus, and it happens even during times they haven’t been on an official date. But tonight is different. Magnus isn’t his sedate and dignified self right now. He’s back to being flirty and relaxed, and he looks so good that Alec can’t stop thinking about touching him.
SO BRIGHT by @lemonoclefox [ G | 17.5k | complete ]
Alec has come out, but that doesn’t stop his parents from their continuous attempts to set him up with a nice shadowhunter girl. So, what better way to finally get them off his back, than to say he has a boyfriend? Problem solved. Except they now apparently want to meet this guy, who doesn’t exist. Thankfully, Magnus Bane – who encouraged Alec to come out in the first place, and whose silent crush on Alec is just as bad as Alec’s crush on him – is more than happy to help. Even if the night doesn’t end up going entirely as planned.
They stared at each other for a moment, each beat of Magnus’s heart seeming to thicken the air again, pulling them back to the charged space they had fallen into on all of their dates. They’d fallen into this feeling here in the loft, out in the world, so many places where everything suddenly just felt intense and present. They were in this charged space where their bodies were saying one thing, and one thing only.
Just a quick fic to fill in a Christmas need I have for my Blue Steel Series. Takes place between “Blue Extravagance” and the upcoming “Blue Righteousness.” Magnus and Alec “come” together for the first time since Alec’s injury and the boys wake up for Christmas morning.
After returning from medical leave, Detective Alexander Lightwood-Bane catches his roughest case up to date. When one of his properties, a club called Kebebasan is attacked by two gunmen, Magnus Lightwood-Bane calls the best cop he knows. During the course of the investigation, Alec discovers that this shooting isn’t an isolated incident, but the result of domestic terrorism; a group attacking what they consider to be amoral. Alec and his partner, Jace Herondale have to move quickly to stop this group before it causes wide-spread panic in the city and more loss of life.
“Are you really going to risk your life for a Shadowhunter?”
Those were some of the last words that Magnus Bane had said to Dot before he stepped through his portal to his lair, protecting only the warlocks. Abandoning the rest of the Shadow World to Valentine and his Circle.
Dot wasn’t sure how long she had been under Valentine’s control, but now as she stood on Magnus’ balcony, hours after Magnus and Clary had portalled away to the Institute, to save both Shadowhunters and Downworlders, she knew something had changed.
Alec stood up, keeping a careful distance and being sure to move slowly as he approached. “Magnus, I am so sorry. For everything you had to go through.”
Magnus’ eyes never moved from the spot on the floor he was staring at. He shook his head slightly, eyebrows furrowed deeply. “That agony rune…” He paused, taking a moment to swallow. His face was drawn in so much pain that Alec had to look away for a moment. He immediately punished himself by digging his fingernails into his palm. It was selfish to worry about his pain. He had certainly inflicted more than enough on Magnus that he had to atone for. “Made me remember things that I spent…centuries trying to forget.”
After one black out too many, Ragnor and Catarina had enough of Magnus trying to drink himself to an early grave. It was time for an intervention and they had the perfect place in mind: The Institute, the best rehabilitation installation in the New York state.
Only Magnus wasn’t exactly asked for his opinion on the matter. And if there is something Magnus doesn’t like, is to be forced into something.
Maybe the Head of the Institute, Alec Lightwood, is enough of an argument to chance his mind?
“ My aunt also had a girlfriend. Supposedly this aunt swore to me in my cradle that I would turn out like her. Even as a child I preferred pants and a boy’s haircut. I didn’t want to wear dresses and skirts. When I first started working at AOK, I had to run errands and get files from the basement. There was always a group of women in the basement sitting, singing, and dancing with each other; I’ve always loved to dance. Sometimes they had a bottle and we drank a bit. It was there that I saw Hilde Berghausen, and I thought to myself “Gee, you could fall for that Hilde!” But I still didn’t really know why. Hilde was older than me; I was fifteen and she was twenty or twenty-one. Once she invited me home with her; I went with her—brought a pounding heart and a bouquet from our garden with me. Her parents were on vacation. We were talking and she asked me if I had a girlfriend. “Of course. Herta, my friend from school.” “There are two kinds of girlfriends.” “What do you mean, two kinds? I really love Herta!”
[…] I started going to the clubs and got to know everything around 1931, when I was fifteen. Back then, before Hitler came to power, we had a lot of clubs. For example, at the Andreas Festival Theater on Andreas Street there was a ball once a month. Through the Magic Flute, I joined a lesbian bowling club, “The Funny Nine”, which was led by Lieschen and her girlfriend Gertrud. We went bowling once a week, and once a month we rented a really big room in a dance hall on Landsberger Street. It was really nice, young and old together, fifty- to sixty-year-olds, the rest around twenty, and I was always the youngest. Later, after 1933, the proprietors–they were Nazi supporters–they stopped renting to us. Lieschen, who was in her sixties then, said “Let’s just forget this club.” And so we just forgot about it. I also went to the Monocle Bar…I still remember a lot of women who frequented that club. But they closed the Monocle Bar in 1933.
[…] When I went back home after the Labor Service, my mother found out, since all my girlfriends had written to me. I had stolen chocolate and cigarettes—we had everything in the restaurant—and I sent all my sweethearts little packages and they wrote, “My dear little Johnny-mouse, thanks so much for the wonderful package. I’m lying on my bed smoking a cigarette from you and I think of you always. Oh, I wish you were still here with me!” When my mother saw all the letters she thought “Oh my goodness, that isn’t normal; there’s something not right here.” Every day four or five letters arrived.
[…After the official ban on homosexual clubs,] outside it always said “Private Party.” You had to ring a bell and she only let in people she wanted. In 1941 there was also a very nice club on Hoch Street… but that one closed suddenly too. Even during the Nazi period there were always clubs you could go to, but they always disappeared again after a while. After 1938 there were more and more raids. If we went to one and it was closed, then we didn’t know what had happened. Before the war, Lotte Hahm had also opened a place, at Alexanderplatz in the teacher’s association building on the second floor. There used to be a dance café there. Lotte Hahm had rented it and organized ladies’ nights there. But that didn’t last very long either. […] I knew that Lotte Hahm served time in jail for seduction of a minor. That’s just nonsense; I’d never believe that about her. It was just a pretext. Then I heard that she was supposedly in a concentration camp. She really had disappeared from the face of the earth for years, so that must be true.
[…] Margot and [her girlfriend Hildegard, aka] Peter, both lived with Lissy, a woman like us who still lived at home and had already hidden one Jew, also one of us. Margot was in hiding there and Peter lived there officially. […] All of a sudden [the Gestapo] came from Gesundbrunnen Station. I said to Margot, “Don’t even bother going home; come with me.” She stayed with me at least three to six months. I had a one-room apartment. We only went outside in the dark at night; she had to get some fresh air. I had really nice neighbors who didn’t support Hitler at all. Our landlady was Jewish; the landlord wasn’t, but because they were married—a so-called privileged mixed marriage—he had been able to save her. The Jewish woman was really great; she tolerated our having girlfriends, that is, this homosexuality. She was the only one who knew I had hidden Margot. The neighbors didn’t know; I never would have said anything. Back then children even denounced their own parents. […] One evening we were at Vineta Square again and a woman from the house saw her. Margot hadn’t noticed that she was being watched. The Russians were already in Berlin, but there was still a lot of shooting. The next day the Gestapo came again—to me this time. If they had gotten her then, they would have shot her. Of course, they would have shot me too. But Margot wasn’t there; she was upstairs at Hanni’s—also one of us… When they came to check on me, I simply said “I don’t know any Margot” and they were finished with me. It was May, right before the war ended. ”
“I’m sorry. This isn’t a problem I can make disappear, and you know that… But I may be able to shift it.
It’s better this way. I’ll be fine.
This may hurt. And if I can’t tell you again… I’m sorry I ever did this to you.”
pearl curled up in garnet’s lap, quietly holding her palms to her lips, making sure to switch hands every now and then so ruby and sapphire get equal amounts of love
amethyst giving garnet a high five and a quick smooch after a successful mission (and then jumping up to smooch her lips too, for good measure)
mystery girl kissing pearl’s gem as just an automatic nice-to-see-you forehead thing and both are very surprised and pleased by the reaction it gets
peridot lying on lapis’s back while they watch tv together, with her lips near the gem but without enough courage to actually kiss it (and lapis can’t see her, but she can easily tell how bad peridot is blushing)
greg blowing raspberries on steven’s stomach when he’s little and finding that his gem is extra ticklish
the height difference making it more natural for pearl to kiss amethyst’s forehead and amethyst pearl’s chest, but sometimes they lie down in a pile of pillows in amethyst’s room and curve around each other in a way that makes it work
amethyst kissing peridot’s gem very often (sometimes in greeting, sometimes to surprise her, sometimes to make her laugh, sometimes just because she just loves her so much) and peridot having the same squealy stunned reaction every time
pearl getting lots of casual pecks from garnet just because her gem’s so easily accessible
steven’s shirt riding up a little while he and connie are cuddling on the couch, she lightly kisses his gem on a whim and he suddenly starts giggling so hard they both end up on the floor
amethyst sneaking up behind lapis to kiss her gem and then running away cackling before lapis can retaliate
peridot finally mustering up the nerve to get lapis too after amethyst’s example
lapis chasing them down, followed by some very menacing-looking waves, and managing to get them each in a water hand; both peridot and amethyst legitimately fearing for their lives before she pulls them down and attacks them with rapid-fire kisses (first on their gems, then all over their faces)
pearl kissing steven’s gem once when he’s a baby, just to see what would happen, just to see if maybe…no, he just laughs a little bit, she frowns, and she decides to never do that again.
(she does do it again, when he’s older, he jumps into her arms under the guise of a game of steven tag and then plants a little smooch on her gem and she can’t help but lift him up and return the gesture. he laughs a lot this time, and she smiles.)
So I have several followers who are working on applying to jobs right now, and by far the most common concern is “what even is a cover letter??” Now, while this post is funny and accurate, it’s not super helpful if you’re looking for specifics. So I figured I should show you mine. Now, without further ado, allow me to provide to you:
~*~ The Cover Letter of Destiny ~*~
[Name] [Address Line 1] [Address Line 2, etc] [Phone] [email]
[Right Justified - Date] (This is just standard business letter stuff)
To Whom it May Concern, [Or Mr/Ms. Hiring Person’s name, if you can find it.]
I’m delighted to submit an application for the [Job you’re applying to] position at [Company/Institution/etc]. After reading the job description I’m certain
I would bring a solid combination of [Skill 1], analytical thinking [or whatever Skill 2 is], and communication skills [This is always my Skill 3] to this position. I’m particularly attracted to this position
because I believe it will utilize the skills I have gained through my industry [or research or whatever] experience, and allow me to apply those skills in new areas.
In my role with [Company] as a [Most Relevant Position Here], I managed a
project [to do some stuff - flesh out your most important/relevant job responsibilities here]. I
specifically focused on [a thing that is the most explicitly relevant to the job posting. In fact, I creatively copy/pasted some of the job posting into this sentence, that’s how relevant it is.]. I was also responsible for [A couple of things that maybe were mentioned in the job posting, or at least show increased responsibility over time]. This gave me the
opportunity to collaborate with a variety of different team members [to achieve a goal]. Through
these and other job duties, I have gained excellent listening skills and the
ability to carry out self-directed tasks in the context of a larger team. [i’m not joking. use this phrasing it’s so great just copy it idgaf]
In my current role as a [Current Title] with [Company], I have continued to build strong skills in project management [or whatever] as well as clear oral and written communication. [Maybe this sentence describes the types of communication (or whatever skill) you do.][This sentence describes briefly the less-relevant work you do]. [This sentence ties in your less-relevant job to the job you are seeking]. These experiences have prepared me well to
succeed in a role as [Name of Position you’re applying to].
Thank you for taking the time to review my materials and
consider my application. I am excited at the prospect of applying my skills to
a [Name or category of position] with [Company], and I feel that the knowledge and
skills I have gained through my experience will be a great benefit to the team.
Please do not hesitate to contact me with questions as I would welcome a chance
to discuss this opportunity more. [After all, they want to hire you after reading this]
[First Name Last Name]
I hope you find this helpful in your job search! Just remember to focus on skills you learned rather than specific experiences or titles you’ve had. Don’t be afraid of inflating it too far, either. There are real useful skills underlying every job task if you look hard & get creative with your phrasing.
Feel free to send me an ask if you want any specific advice on how to spin your education/work history into the job you want, or if you want a proofreader or cheerleader or whatever. Job hunting is a bad game designed by and for a certain type of person. It’s dehumanizing and horrible even at the best of times, so I’m more than happy to help anyone find a way to beat the system. <3 <3
Imagine, just for a moment, that when they take the portkey, instead of an Avada Kedavra, it’s a Stupefy that hits him. Or that the AK misses him by an inch, hits a grave instead, knocks him out for a second.
Imagine that everybody forgets about the Hufflepuff boy out cold on the floor, because they are so intent on resurrecting Voldemort. Peter forgets as he ties Harry to that statue. Voldemort forgets as he is dumped into a cauldron full of flesh and bone and blood. And every death eater that comes sooner or later, well, no one tells them about the boy either - there are more pressing concerns.
However, Harry doesn’t forget. Because Harry has been in that sort of situation since he was eleven. He’s used to looking out for others, by now. Hermione and the Troll, Ron on the chess game, Ginny in the Chamber, Sirius and Hagrid and even Buckbeak- Harry always looks out for everyone, and never forgets about anyone, even if they are not really his friends.
So while he stares in horror, while he’s powerless and sees his greatest foe come back to life, a tiny part of his mind is screaming at him to check on Cedric, to get them out of here. Both. Alive.
Now let’s say that the ceremony, and the Death Eater meeting after the resurrection takes time. Lots of it. Let’s say that Voldemort, being the drama queen he obviously is, takes his time, and enjoys every single second of attention he gets from his followers and that Potter brat.
Let’s say he takes enough time for Cedric to come back to consciousness.
He awakes, lying in the grass and dirt, surrounded by bits of stone, his head aching and confused. The cup is laying about, not too far from him, and he could take it to go back but- he’s a Hufflepuff. He’s loyal. He doesn’t forget either, and that’s why, even if he’s confused about why or how he’s here, he doesn’t take the cup and goes searching for Harry.
Now, the tournament is a vicious thing, isn’t it ? Who’s to say to poor confused Cedric that this is not one more, secret, task ?
So Cedric goes looking, wand in hand, ready to fight, because he’s a Hogwart champion - and really, a Graveyard ? That’s creepy. And because he’s on his guard, and he’s moving around silently, no one notices him creeping behind one of the graves. No one notices the Hufflepuff boy, his horrified expression, and his frantic gaze as he slowly understands that no, that wasn’t a task, and that wasn’t a dream either.
Maybe not even Harry, or maybe he does, but that’s not the important thing.
The important thing is that being in Hufflepuff doesn’t make you stupid at all. The important thing is that Cedric is a champion, and smart, and a quick thinker and a hard worker.
The important thing is that Cedric thinks fast, and casts an ‘Accio’ on the cup as he runs towards Harry while he duels Voldemort.
He breaks through the crowd of amazed and struck Death Eaters, catches Harry’s arm with one hand, and with Seeker reflexes, catches the cup with the other.
Cedric lives, and both Harry and him go back to Hogwarts, terrified, bloody, and flinching away from the sudden noise coming from the public. They both live, and thus no one notices that something is amiss immediately, no one sees their wild glances around - as if someone was still out to kill them. The public cheers, and sings the victory of both Hogwart’s champions, and they are suddenly hugged by their families - the Diggorys and Weasleys.
No one notices, and that’s why when the noise dies down, and someone casts a sonorus on them to ask them how they feel about that victory, everyone hears them say, in a still disbelieving and trembling voice.
Obviously, everyone is confused, but they start talking, a bit over each other really, but they are in shock - and they say he’s back, Voldemort’s back, and he took my blood, and we were in a graveyard, and I was knocked out, missed most of the ritual, but it was him, yeah, and there were Death Eaters, in a circle, torturing Harry, horrible, had to get away, he’s back, he’s back.
And that’s when the people notice their faces, the blood, Harry twitching fingers - cruciatus - and their wands still clenched in their fingers, as if ready to attack anyone on sight.
This time, though, Harry doesn’t get ushered away by fake-Moody - because Cedric still has a hand gripping his arm, and wont let go for the world. He tells Dumbledore, and their families, though, when the Headmaster asks them to talk “More calmly and clearly, please, young men” at the Infirmary. Barty Crouch Jr is still apprehended, and the real Moody discovered, and it puts their incredible tale in a new, horrific and real, light.
Imagine if Cedric Diggory lived.
Two witnesses of His return. One is Harry Potter, Hero and Saviour of the Wizarding world. The second is beloved Hufflepuff Prefect Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts Champion. Even if people didn’t believe the first, they would believe the second, and vice versa.
Obviously, the ministry doesn’t take it well, but Amos Diggory and the Weasleys, and Dumbledore make a move together. Susan Bones helps her fellow Hufflepuff by contacting her aunt. Together, they get memory evidence - and they even agree on submitting to truth serum.
Because if Harry alone couldn’t do it - or had no idea he could - Cedric is there, and his father works at the Ministry, and he’s a seventh year. He knows more, and he has people ready to help him - and if he asks them, to help Harry Potter.
Sure, the ministry would try to get all this under the rug, but they couldn’t. Because Weasleys, and Diggorys, and Dumbledore, and Bones, and even Longbottom and soon every name that has a contact in Hogwarts - except some of the Death Eaters - are pushing for the truth to get out, and with a bit of blackmail, Rita helps - and this time, the Daily Prophet can’t repress all of them.
Imagine if Cedric Diggory lived, and how the war would have turned.
Ok, so I’ve been thinking about a flight attendant!Akaashi and National Team Player!Bokuto au where they meet on a flight back to Tokyo. Bokuto falls in love at first sight, while volleyball fan Akaashi is like holy shit stay calm and professional oh god this is #4 BOKUTO KOUTAROU.
But they get talking a little when Bo gets super restless and can’t sleep and wanders around the plane, and Akaashi slips up and remarks “you’re very energetic, Bokuto-san” and Bo is like “…did i tell you my name?” and Akaashi is like fuck so much for being professional and admits he watches all their games when Bokuto gets super excited and asks if he’s into volleyball..
And shortly before the plane is landing Akaashi subtly approaches Bokuto like “I know this is super indiscreet of me and I apologise but couldIhaveyourautograph” and Bo makes a face. Akaashi feels guilty, people probably approach Bokuto all the time and why does he even want an autograph, he’s not 15 anymore, but then Bo says “…aw man, I was hoping you came to give me your number.” and Akaashi is like ghhghh what “…you want my number…?” and he knows he’s not supposed to but also this is Bokuto Koutarou who has really nice build and is strangely charming so Akaashi slips him his number as he’s exiting the plane.
Akaashi wonders what the hell just happened, does Bokuto think he’s some kind of groupie or is this how he usually meets people.
okay so !! in you gotta die sometime, whizzer is replacing this nebulous concept of death – something that a man his age hasn’t had to worry about, nevertheless a man of his disposition – with Death, a fellow man, a lover, something that makes sense and that comforts him. whizzer, by all accounts, was never supposed to die in his twenties/thirties; he was a healthy, athletic young man who took care of his body, and so why would he ever have to worry about the sudden disappearance of his health?
and now, all within a matter of months, he has this IV in his arm and his mind is foggy and his ribs are sharp against his loose hospital gown. his friend, a member of this makeshift family they’ve finally created has to tell him that he’s dying, has to tell his lover that he’s on the edge of that very same bridge.
- Person A falling asleep watching a movie with Person B so B carries A to their bed. Bonus: Person A wakes up in B’s arms but pretends to still be asleep so they can be carried to bed.
- Person A and B going grocery shopping together and Person A ends up holding B up to grab something off the top shelf.
- Person A and B going to a shelter/pet store and looking carefully at each of the animals trying to decide which one to get. Bonus: They keep pointing out which dog/cat looks like the other person most.
- Person A trying to pay bills while Person B watches them. Person B gets fed up with A looking miserable and frustrated so they drag them away and watch TV together.
- Person A sleeps in late and wakes up to Person B cooking breakfast in the morning. A walks into the kitchen and just wraps their arms around B while they continue to cook.
- Person B has to get dressed up for a nice event. B is struggling with their tie/dress/suit and can’t get it right. Person A is surprisingly good at fixing it and Person B asks them how they did it.
- Person A leaving Person B little notes all over their house/apartment that say stuff like “Reminder: I love you.” and “Hey, you’re the best!” Person B then responds by leaving sticky notes for Person A around. Bonus: The notes that B leaves say stuff like “Of course I’m the best.” and “I love me too.”
- Person A and B buy their first house together. When they finally start to move in Person B is in shock and just wanders around the house marveling at what they’ve just done.
- Person A makes lunch for both them and Person B. B doesn’t like crusts on their sandwiches so A (even though they don’t really like the crust) eats it for them.
NaNo Prep: How Understanding Conflict Will Make Your Plot Explode
November is almost upon us, and in the build up to NaNo, we’ve asked for guest contributors to share their advice on how to craft great stories that will engage writer and reader alike. Today, author Cari Noga tells us why “GMC” should be in everyone’s vocabulary, and how it’ll help drive your plot.
heard something like that before, and filed it away with other
writing advice. Take it out, shake it off, and prop it up it next to
your coffee mug. Besides caffeine, you won’t find a better buddy on
your NaNo odyssey.
definition. Conflict is the obstacle(s) between a character and his
or her desire. It varies with novel genre: the enemy agent out to
kill the hero; Mom’s new job that forces the middle-school kid to
move and change schools; the character’s yearning to spurn
expectations and do what she really wants. Conflict is fundamental to
advancing plot, setting it back, twisting and turning it, as the
characters wrestle with their particular nemeses. It’s also crucial
to reader engagement.
In the best stories, we become invested in a
character overcoming their conflict. We root for them to get what
they want, worry when they seem to succumb, and, above all, keep
turning pages to see which way it goes. Steven James, one of my
favorite writing coaches and a bestselling thriller author himself,
puts it this way: You don’t have a story until something goes