🎶｡･+lex +･｡🎶

Aw this is so cute.

I tell this story to everyone because it’s just so cinematic in my brain but when I was first writing Cadence I put all of my plot points on sticky notes and hung them up in my closet so they could easily be rearranged. Every time I wrote a part that was on a sticky note I got to take the note down like some pseudo-Christmas calendar.

Anyway so fast forward several months, we’re still in the throes of post-COVID, and I’ve been locked up in my room since lock-down — I was in university then and had recently moved back in with my parents — writing all the time — yes, my parents were concerned. They know about the fic now and my dad even found it online recently. It was mortifying. Thanks Goodreads — and my dad comes in while I’m writing on my bed. I’ve got the biggest closet in the house and he says he’s got to put something on the top shelf. I’m a moody gal in my early twenties with a record player and a crippling yaoi addiction so I ignore him in favour of writing whatever love confession Remus is giving Sirius in his inner monologue before I remember.

The sticky notes.

It’s crazy. I have written things like “insert funny one liner about dead mothers” and “look up how many miles from ? To ??” The bloody boner chapter is in there. My handwriting’s terrible because I wrote them in a hurry thanks to the divine inspiration that was bestowed upon me by whatever righteous force handles The Gays.

It was too late. My dad opened the closet doors and whoosh the little scraps of paper came fluttering down like feathers during duck season. (I like this line. I may use it in something in the future.)

For those who are wondering, yes I’m sure I handled it well. Like any good writer I leapt out of bed and scooped my magnum opus up off the floor along with a handful of cat hair. There may have been some hissing involved — not from the cat — but that was really the least of my father’s worries.

“mm it’s so sexy how she can’t get out of bed!”

Your partner laying on a table while you examine them. Looking over their skin and checking for cuts, abrasions, and the like, while they stay as still and breathe as little as possible. Testing for rigor mortis by bending not only a couple joints, but all of them. Starting by moving their jaw, then twisting their head before moving on to their shoulders, elbows, knees, and ankles.

Then you get to cut them open. You'd take a small blade, sharp enough to cut cleanly, and drag it from above the right pectoral to the center and down. Then, reflecting the cut onto the other side of the chest to leave the final incision resembling a 'Y'. You would have to keep the cut shallow to avoid hurting your partner too badly— and since this is hopefully an experience you would repeat in the future.

Then moving onto their head, you would make the thinnest possible incision near their hairline, all the way across their forehead. You wouldn't be able to cut them fully open, but I would compensate by licking up the blood that drips put.

There are two ways to proceed from there. You could stitch up the wounds, or you could use butterfly bandages. If the cuts are shallow enough, you could leave them unattended to.