howdy~

New city, new apartment, new job, new gender presentation.

Dee Smith leaves the menswear at home, starts her new job at Sandover Iron & Bridge in a skirt and wig, and finally, fucking finally gets called the right things. Things are going great for a few weeks and, even with the haunting loneliness of her apartment, she's the happiest she's ever been.

And then someone decides to go and pop their own kernel in an office microwave.

So I've done my first aid + CPR a few times. And every single time I try and bring up scenarios for fat folks

Specifically like 'what if someone is too large for me to wrap my arms around then to do the heimleich'

And its incredibly rare I get a decent answer.

How absolutely insane is it that me, as a fat person, is asking how to have MY life saved or to save ANOTHER life, is an impossible feat if someone is fat.

Most of the time they tell me to 'just try anyways uwu'

The heimleich is scientifically as effective as slapping someone VERY hard on the back. The only reason it's so well taught is the man that invented it did a lot of great PR for himself. It's also a bit easier for smaller framed people to get the necessary force in, because people are often extremely scared to hurt people, even in life threatening situations.

With larger bodied people, whether they be fat, tall, muscular, etc. If you cannot get your arms around them, literally just slap the shit out of their shoulders. You want hard, open palmed slaps right in the center of the shoulders or slightly below.

If they are too tall for you to reach that high, guide them to lean over the back of a chair, and then slap slap slap slap slap.

It's been proven to be just as effective through many studies. It just doesn't have a trademarked name and a dramatic effect in film.

If you have to do CPR on a larger bodied person, again, fat, body builder, tall and broad, whoever, the trick to finding where you want to put your hands if going to be to take your hand and shove it in their armpit. No seriously. Put your hand in their armpit, then drag it in a straight line towards yourself until you're in the center of the chest, then put your other hand beneath that one. This is where you push. Then you are going to move the arm closest to you out of the way so you can get closer to them, and get the leverage you need to press down for compressions. The more of your body weight that is over your hands, the better the compression will be. Act like you are trying desperately to pack the last of your clothes in a suitcase, and just slam down hard on their chest.

They will make *horrible* noises. You might even break ribs.

But a broken rib is better than being dead.

“A good oneshot is a single breath—sharp in, slow out.”

A oneshot isn’t just a short story. It’s a moment, a mood, a slice of intimacy that wouldn’t survive being stretched into a full-length fic. Here’s how to make it count.

Pick One Core Emotion

Build the whole thing around a single feeling. Obsession. Longing. Regret. Euphoria. Grief.

If a full-length fic is a symphony, your oneshot is a single piano note.

Ask: What should the reader feel when they finish?

Ex: “This oneshot is about the moment someone realizes they’ve already fallen in love.”

Limit the Timeline

Don’t span days. Or even hours, if you can help it. The strongest oneshots focus on a single scene or moment.

A kiss in a hallway.

A final goodbye at dawn.

A confession said too late.

Tight time = tight tension.

Start Late, End Early

Drop us into the scene already in motion—no lengthy set-up. And leave us just after the climax, not long after.

Don’t: “They met three years ago and…”

Do: “It’s raining the night he finally says it.”

Your oneshot should feel like eavesdropping on something private.

Structure Like This

ACT I: Setup (15–25%)

Who are we with? Where are we? What’s simmering under the surface?

ACT II: The Shift (50–70%)

Something changes. A kiss. A fight. A confession. A memory.

The mood deepens or flips—this is your emotional peak.

ACT III: The Fallout (15–25%)

How does it end? A single line. A final look. A choice not made.

Leave a lingering echo, not an epilogue.

Let Style Do the Heavy Lifting

A oneshot gives you space to lean into voice, imagery, and metaphor. Write like it’s the last thing you’ll ever write.

“He says her name like it’s a prayer, but the gods stopped listening hours ago.”

If your dialog feels flat, rewrite the scene pretending the characters cannot at any cost say exactly what they mean. No one says “I’m mad” but they can say it in 100 other ways.

Wrote a chapter but you dislike it? Rewrite it again from memory. That way you’re only remembering the main parts and can fill in extra details. My teacher who was a playwright literally writes every single script twice because of this.

Don’t overuse metaphors, or they lose their potency. Limit yourself.

The one person who must be protected at all costs is a small First Nation girl (temporarily implanted with the soul of a sadistic US veteran from the Korean War)