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Getting there.
Return to normalcy soon! Hopefully! Lots of people have graduated; congratulations to you! xoxo
Here's the last of what was tfr from A Week of Unmitigated Almost-Loathing.
The fic came about because I had a very particular kiss scene I wanted to write in my head, so the rest of the fic was basically structured around hitting that scene at the end. Naturally, by the time I hit that scene in the story, it didn't fit anymore and felt out of place.
Nevertheless, as tends to be the case when I start out with a very particular scene mapped out in my head, I try to kinda force-write my way into it anyway. Some of the time it works, some of the time I flat-out fail and wind up starting the scene from scratch. The latter happened here; no matter how I tried to make it happen I wound up faceplanting instead. Ultimately, in the case of Almost-Loathing, I ended up with something only vaguely like the scene I was so married to in my head, but it was a better fit for the story so I don't really count that as a loss.
Here, then, is my first attempt, which takes place just after Buttercup thwarts the would-be jewelry store thief.
--
They’d been walking around the park for five minutes when Bc looked up and suddenly noted, “You’re bleeding.”
Btc looked at her with mild interest. “Is that right? In that case, I’ll sue. You were the one whose foot wound up in my face, after all.”
“Shut up, it’s not even on the right side,” Bc grumbled, and peered closer. “It looks like you got cut by the glass.”
“Are you saying I should sue the jewelry store, then?”
“Do you ever stop joking for even a second?” Bc muttered, turning away. It wasn’t like a little cut was going to kill him, anyway.
“Hey, for the record, I was being serious.”
“Oh, just like you were being serious when I saw you pocket that diamond necklace back there after we tossed the crook in a cop car?”
“I’ll have you know I put that back.”
“Only because I saw you!”
“No, it’s because the necklace was scuffed and I have a magic pocket that, you know, removes scuffs. Because it’s magic.”
Bc crossed her arms and lowered her eyelids. “A magic pocket.”
“Really, see for yourself.”
This time Bc kicked him in the shins. “Stop being a pervert!”
“Ow!! I meant that as a figure of freaking speech!!! For once I wasn’t trying to be some sort of lech!” He hopped on one foot a few times before settling on a bench, rubbing at his leg.
“Well, great! You’ve done it so often now that you don’t even have to bother trying! It comes to you naturally!”
Btc didn’t respond, he only pouted and rubbed at his shin some more. “That hurt,” he said petulantly.
Bc scoffed. “You big baby.”
“Big bleeding baby, I remind you.”
“Oh, so now the blood is a big deal?”
“See, earlier I was just trying to be macho. I’ve a complex, you know. We boys are brought up to not show pain. It’s very psychological.”
Bc rolled her eyes and held up her hands. “That’s enough, thank you.” She crossed her arms and watched him gingerly pat at his jeans.
“I can’t believe you did that and your time’s not even up yet,” Btc remarked. “You should come over here and make sure you haven’t done any real harm.”
“I don’t need to be over there to tell you that,” Bc snarled.
“Hey, look, ten minutes and counting. And I’ve been going easy on you this whole time. Now get over here and look at my leg, Slave Monkey.”
“What?!”
“… I said Bc.”
She kept her glare on him as she walked up and rolled up his jeans leg, muttering to herself. “See. Not even a mark.”
“How would you know, you haven’t seen my legs before.”
“And I’d been hoping to keep it that way for the rest of my life.”
“You’re a very cheerful sort of person, Bc.” Btc commented dryly.
“What happened to all that agonizing pain you were experiencing five seconds ago?”
“Good question. Let’s ponder that while we walk.”
Ten minutes left and he wants to walk, she thought to herself, slightly befuddled, but it wasn’t like she felt inclined to argue. He jumped to his feet with a spring in his step. “I’ll bet it was my magic pocket,” he announced proudly.
Bc snorted. “Whatever you say.” She trailed behind him, eyes on his back. They squinted. “Btc, hold still.”
Btc stopped in his tracks. “What?”
“There’s blood on your shirt.” She pressed a hand to the area. “Right there.”
A moment passed before he said, “Really, I’m fine.”
She glared at the back of his head. Fine, if he wanted to be a typical male chauvinistic pig who thought he was too good to see about proper medical attention, fine. No skin off her back.
He whirled around and quirked his mouth at her. “But thanks for worrying, sweetums.”
She mimicked sticking her hand down her throat and gagging. “Barf.”
“Your barf’s invisible?”
She gave him an incredulous look, and, out of what had to have been a moment of sheer insanity, burst out laughing. “You never stop! What the hell is the matter with you?! You order me around for a week to attend to your every need & whim, proving to me you are the King of Bastards, drag me out on my last night to go laser-tagging and awful movie watching and, and—”
“I’m assuming there’s a point to this; we are on a tight schedule, you know,” Btc interrupted.
Oh God, Bc, stop laughing, please stop, she thought to herself, and managed to force that down, but not the smile.
Btc gasped. “Holy crap—you’re actually smiling!”
Bc shook her head, which she realized was pretty pointless since that only made her smile wider. “It’s lack of sleep; this sort of thing happens right before midnight strikes—”
“—And you turn into a pumpkin,” Btc finished for her.
“Yes, exactly.” She was grinning like crazy now and knew she was never, ever going to forgive herself for this. Bc took a few steps back, holding her hand to her mouth. “Glass slippers and mice and all.”
“Technically you should get to keep the slippers,” Btc corrected, staying rooted at his stance on the sidewalk.
Bc wasn’t even bothering with paying attention anymore; she was too busy grappling with her inner self about voluntarily smiling when she was spending involuntary time with he whom she had always considered her worst enemy. She turned and took a few more steps away, shaking her head.
“What does that mean? Does that mean no slippers?” Btc called after her. He suddenly grinned. “Or does it mean something along the lines of ‘There is no way I’m going to admit to that conceited pervert that I may have actually had a good time tonight?’”
“Stop while you’re ahead!” she called back, but when she turned she was still smiling. “I’ll have you know that this week was probably the worst one of my entire life! I can’t believe you put me through all that. I hate you, though not as much as I used to, because this is actually all Bls’s fault, so I have to keep her in mind. I’ve never wanted to throttle you more, or hit you more, or just generally beat the living shit out of you more than I have for the past five days—”
“But—” Btc interrupted again.
“But—no buts! None at all! They don’t exist!” Bc was trying to force the smile back down and it just wasn’t working.
Btc’s voice escalated to a yell. “Oh, for crying out loud, just admit it already!” he exclaimed with a wide grin and gesturing wildly with his arms.
It snapped.
“Fine!!! I’ll admit it!!! I actually had a good time tonight!!! Happy now?!?!”
“Just good?”
“Don’t press your luck,” she retorted, pleading insanity in her mind. It explained every word that was coming out of her mouth right now, as well as the unnatural smile still spreading across her face.
“Hey, I’ve got license to. I’ve only got—” Btc craned his neck a bit, and could barely make out the Townsville clock tower’s illuminated face in the distance. “—Approximately one minute and thirty seconds left. I’ll milk it for all it’s worth.”
Bc glanced at the pager clipped on the waist of her jeans—the LCD screen had been cracked when she hit the ground earlier, but was still readable. One minute and thirty seconds indeed.
“You’re right,” she said, looking up at him. “And I’m probably going to regret this, but—” she threw her arms skyward “—what the hell. Any last requests?”
He raised his nonexistent eyebrows considerably. “You’re asking?”
“For a limited time only,” she laughed, and the tiny sane bit of her deep down inside cursed. “What’ll it be? No, let me guess: Coffee?”
The insanity must have been spreading, because she could’ve sworn she saw his smile soften just the slightest. He pursed his mouth and said, “Anything, huh?”
“Within reason,” she hastily added. “But you better make it quick! You’ve got—” she glanced down “—53 seconds to go!”
Btc touched his hand to his chin and made a show of thinking. “Hmm. Any last requests…”
Bc pointedly tapped her watch. “Clock is ticking here!”
“Well, I guess I’ve got one—”
“Make it quick, then!” Bc was past the point of thinking that she would regret this later.
“Alright,” Btc said resolutely, and looked directly at her from his spot almost ten feet away. “How about: Just stand perfectly still?”
Bc blinked and stared at him for one incredulous moment, then shrugged and said, “Whatever you say.”
He smiled. “You don’t have to remind me. I know.”
“Get off your high horse.”
Btc’s smile just widened, and he lifted himself from the ground and floated over to Bc until he was hovering a bit in front of her. Bc blinked, and the smile faded as the first chime for twelve o’ clock midnight went off in the distance.
Wordlessly, and without a break in movement—from the second he lifted his feet to the second he stopped in front of her—Btc closed his eyes and leaned in to press his mouth to hers.
Bc took a sharp breath, noting the distant chiming and the faint scratch of Btc’s lips.
--
The dialogue in this scene also kinda wanders around and doesn't go anywhere... the end result is much snappier and pops much better.
Here's the last of what was tfr from A Week of Unmitigated Almost-Loathing.
The fic came about because I had a very particular kiss scene I wanted to write in my head, so the rest of the fic was basically structured around hitting that scene at the end. Naturally, by the time I hit that scene in the story, it didn't fit anymore and felt out of place.
Nevertheless, as tends to be the case when I start out with a very particular scene mapped out in my head, I try to kinda force-write my way into it anyway. Some of the time it works, some of the time I flat-out fail and wind up starting the scene from scratch. The latter happened here; no matter how I tried to make it happen I wound up faceplanting instead. Ultimately, in the case of Almost-Loathing, I ended up with something only vaguely like the scene I was so married to in my head, but it was a better fit for the story so I don't really count that as a loss.
Here, then, is my first attempt, which takes place just after Buttercup thwarts the would-be jewelry store thief.
--
They’d been walking around the park for five minutes when Bc looked up and suddenly noted, “You’re bleeding.”
Btc looked at her with mild interest. “Is that right? In that case, I’ll sue. You were the one whose foot wound up in my face, after all.”
“Shut up, it’s not even on the right side,” Bc grumbled, and peered closer. “It looks like you got cut by the glass.”
“Are you saying I should sue the jewelry store, then?”
“Do you ever stop joking for even a second?” Bc muttered, turning away. It wasn’t like a little cut was going to kill him, anyway.
“Hey, for the record, I was being serious.”
“Oh, just like you were being serious when I saw you pocket that diamond necklace back there after we tossed the crook in a cop car?”
“I’ll have you know I put that back.”
“Only because I saw you!”
“No, it’s because the necklace was scuffed and I have a magic pocket that, you know, removes scuffs. Because it’s magic.”
Bc crossed her arms and lowered her eyelids. “A magic pocket.”
“Really, see for yourself.”
This time Bc kicked him in the shins. “Stop being a pervert!”
“Ow!! I meant that as a figure of freaking speech!!! For once I wasn’t trying to be some sort of lech!” He hopped on one foot a few times before settling on a bench, rubbing at his leg.
“Well, great! You’ve done it so often now that you don’t even have to bother trying! It comes to you naturally!”
Btc didn’t respond, he only pouted and rubbed at his shin some more. “That hurt,” he said petulantly.
Bc scoffed. “You big baby.”
“Big bleeding baby, I remind you.”
“Oh, so now the blood is a big deal?”
“See, earlier I was just trying to be macho. I’ve a complex, you know. We boys are brought up to not show pain. It’s very psychological.”
Bc rolled her eyes and held up her hands. “That’s enough, thank you.” She crossed her arms and watched him gingerly pat at his jeans.
“I can’t believe you did that and your time’s not even up yet,” Btc remarked. “You should come over here and make sure you haven’t done any real harm.”
“I don’t need to be over there to tell you that,” Bc snarled.
“Hey, look, ten minutes and counting. And I’ve been going easy on you this whole time. Now get over here and look at my leg, Slave Monkey.”
“What?!”
“… I said Bc.”
She kept her glare on him as she walked up and rolled up his jeans leg, muttering to herself. “See. Not even a mark.”
“How would you know, you haven’t seen my legs before.”
“And I’d been hoping to keep it that way for the rest of my life.”
“You’re a very cheerful sort of person, Bc.” Btc commented dryly.
“What happened to all that agonizing pain you were experiencing five seconds ago?”
“Good question. Let’s ponder that while we walk.”
Ten minutes left and he wants to walk, she thought to herself, slightly befuddled, but it wasn’t like she felt inclined to argue. He jumped to his feet with a spring in his step. “I’ll bet it was my magic pocket,” he announced proudly.
Bc snorted. “Whatever you say.” She trailed behind him, eyes on his back. They squinted. “Btc, hold still.”
Btc stopped in his tracks. “What?”
“There’s blood on your shirt.” She pressed a hand to the area. “Right there.”
A moment passed before he said, “Really, I’m fine.”
She glared at the back of his head. Fine, if he wanted to be a typical male chauvinistic pig who thought he was too good to see about proper medical attention, fine. No skin off her back.
He whirled around and quirked his mouth at her. “But thanks for worrying, sweetums.”
She mimicked sticking her hand down her throat and gagging. “Barf.”
“Your barf’s invisible?”
She gave him an incredulous look, and, out of what had to have been a moment of sheer insanity, burst out laughing. “You never stop! What the hell is the matter with you?! You order me around for a week to attend to your every need & whim, proving to me you are the King of Bastards, drag me out on my last night to go laser-tagging and awful movie watching and, and—”
“I’m assuming there’s a point to this; we are on a tight schedule, you know,” Btc interrupted.
Oh God, Bc, stop laughing, please stop, she thought to herself, and managed to force that down, but not the smile.
Btc gasped. “Holy crap—you’re actually smiling!”
Bc shook her head, which she realized was pretty pointless since that only made her smile wider. “It’s lack of sleep; this sort of thing happens right before midnight strikes—”
“—And you turn into a pumpkin,” Btc finished for her.
“Yes, exactly.” She was grinning like crazy now and knew she was never, ever going to forgive herself for this. Bc took a few steps back, holding her hand to her mouth. “Glass slippers and mice and all.”
“Technically you should get to keep the slippers,” Btc corrected, staying rooted at his stance on the sidewalk.
Bc wasn’t even bothering with paying attention anymore; she was too busy grappling with her inner self about voluntarily smiling when she was spending involuntary time with he whom she had always considered her worst enemy. She turned and took a few more steps away, shaking her head.
“What does that mean? Does that mean no slippers?” Btc called after her. He suddenly grinned. “Or does it mean something along the lines of ‘There is no way I’m going to admit to that conceited pervert that I may have actually had a good time tonight?’”
“Stop while you’re ahead!” she called back, but when she turned she was still smiling. “I’ll have you know that this week was probably the worst one of my entire life! I can’t believe you put me through all that. I hate you, though not as much as I used to, because this is actually all Bls’s fault, so I have to keep her in mind. I’ve never wanted to throttle you more, or hit you more, or just generally beat the living shit out of you more than I have for the past five days—”
“But—” Btc interrupted again.
“But—no buts! None at all! They don’t exist!” Bc was trying to force the smile back down and it just wasn’t working.
Btc’s voice escalated to a yell. “Oh, for crying out loud, just admit it already!” he exclaimed with a wide grin and gesturing wildly with his arms.
It snapped.
“Fine!!! I’ll admit it!!! I actually had a good time tonight!!! Happy now?!?!”
“Just good?”
“Don’t press your luck,” she retorted, pleading insanity in her mind. It explained every word that was coming out of her mouth right now, as well as the unnatural smile still spreading across her face.
“Hey, I’ve got license to. I’ve only got—” Btc craned his neck a bit, and could barely make out the Townsville clock tower’s illuminated face in the distance. “—Approximately one minute and thirty seconds left. I’ll milk it for all it’s worth.”
Bc glanced at the pager clipped on the waist of her jeans—the LCD screen had been cracked when she hit the ground earlier, but was still readable. One minute and thirty seconds indeed.
“You’re right,” she said, looking up at him. “And I’m probably going to regret this, but—” she threw her arms skyward “—what the hell. Any last requests?”
He raised his nonexistent eyebrows considerably. “You’re asking?”
“For a limited time only,” she laughed, and the tiny sane bit of her deep down inside cursed. “What’ll it be? No, let me guess: Coffee?”
The insanity must have been spreading, because she could’ve sworn she saw his smile soften just the slightest. He pursed his mouth and said, “Anything, huh?”
“Within reason,” she hastily added. “But you better make it quick! You’ve got—” she glanced down “—53 seconds to go!”
Btc touched his hand to his chin and made a show of thinking. “Hmm. Any last requests…”
Bc pointedly tapped her watch. “Clock is ticking here!”
“Well, I guess I’ve got one—”
“Make it quick, then!” Bc was past the point of thinking that she would regret this later.
“Alright,” Btc said resolutely, and looked directly at her from his spot almost ten feet away. “How about: Just stand perfectly still?”
Bc blinked and stared at him for one incredulous moment, then shrugged and said, “Whatever you say.”
He smiled. “You don’t have to remind me. I know.”
“Get off your high horse.”
Btc’s smile just widened, and he lifted himself from the ground and floated over to Bc until he was hovering a bit in front of her. Bc blinked, and the smile faded as the first chime for twelve o’ clock midnight went off in the distance.
Wordlessly, and without a break in movement—from the second he lifted his feet to the second he stopped in front of her—Btc closed his eyes and leaned in to press his mouth to hers.
Bc took a sharp breath, noting the distant chiming and the faint scratch of Btc’s lips.
--
The dialogue in this scene also kinda wanders around and doesn't go anywhere... the end result is much snappier and pops much better.