🎶 If your wip had an opening/theme song, what would it be? (Bonus points: What would the animatic look like? ;P)
ohohohoho~ well i answered OPENING theme here, but if like wringing blood from a stone had CLOSING credits, i think the song that played over them would haaaaave to be dutton ranch freestyle by david morris >;)c
and because this is a cringefest of my own making, those end credits would absolutely be...certain members of the family making their way through north kill proper after closing camp for the season 🥰
❓Share a snippet you’re not sure will make it to the final draft!
😏 so. here's the thing. chances are good SOME ITERATION of this is making it into the fic, and soon, but the pov and how i'm handling it will likely be very, very different, sooooooooo..........
The ones in Uncle Jack’s room were different. Their holes were outlined in thicker coats of paint, some black and some brown, and even walking too close to them made his stomach cramp up like he was about to be sick.
Caleb had peeked into a few of them once. Three, in fact. Only three. Only that one time.
The first one had filled his mind with the awful, terrifying thought of Uncle Bobby getting shot. In the head. He’d dropped it like the thing had burnt him, but of course he knew Uncle Bobby had been shot in the head before, back when he was fighting in Iraq. It was scary, yeah, no one would say it wasn’t, just…it had already happened. It lived in the past, where things couldn’t hurt you.
To test that, he’d grabbed the second. That one made his palms sweaty and had his mouth sloshing with spit, almost as if he was going to upchuck his lunch all over the hardwood. Again, he’d had a weird dream-sense of something that had absolutely already happened—Uncle Jack getting his throat torn open by some kind of monster. That was bad too, bad enough to get his knees shaking, but he’d seen the scar around his neck and had listened to the story about the Makkapitew nearly slicing his head off a million times before. It hadn’t killed him, was the thing. It hadn’t killed him, and neither had that bullet killed Uncle Bobby.
Which was the only reason he’d kept going. It hadn’t made sense to him at the time: Why would Uncle Jack hide those totems if all they did was show you things that had happened in the past? Why was that scarier than what the others did? How did he think it was safer to leave the other ones lying around, the red ones, the yellow ones, the white ones, when those made him think about doing things, hurting people, breaking stuff? Why was it only the totems with the black and brown outlines he thought he had to keep under lock and key? He couldn’t make the math work in his head.
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God, Toby didn’t miss this. He wants to go home where it’s safe, where things had finally calmed down, where they’d been living normal, happy lives. He’s never felt so small in his life, staring out into the endless abyss of space in an experimental ship with one of his best friends’ lives in danger. He doesn’t even know where home is.
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Joby 20. Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference. ? (Or in this case compensating for the height difference?)
“Ha! Now who is the taller one!” Toby cheered.
Jim looked up at him and smiled. Toby was no less than three stairs above him, and was finally taller. He snorted and crossed his arms.
“You finally did it Tobes! Though it would be a little hard to kiss you from there.” Jim said with a laugh.
“How do you think I feel all the time. Trying to kiss you while you are 800 feet taller than I am. And I won’t accept any excuses. Pucker up and get over here!”
Toby leaned forward, his eyes closed. Jim leaned towards him as well, and was about to kiss him, when Toby suddenly tottered on his step, before falling off it. Jim dove and caught him before he gave himself a concussion on the concrete steps.
Jim looked down at Toby in his arms. Toby’s eyes were open wide and there was a firey blush in his cheeks. Jim leaned down and kissed him softly. Toby’s hands raised of their own accord to run through Jim’s mane, one hand finding his horn and holding it tight. Jim purred against Toby’s lips as he sank in happiness.
When he pulled away, he swore there were stars in Toby’s eyes. Jim set him back on the ground and steadied him while he got his footing again.
“Ok, maybe the height difference isn’t that bad.”
“ha ha!” Jim gave a powerful laugh that he knew showed off even more of his tusks, much to Toby’s joy. “Maybe we can get you a ladder next time.”
“Yeah. Or Claire could use her magic to hover me in the air!”
“Oh I’m sure that’s exactly what she would love. Not just third wheel, but step stool as well!”
“Or, or I could hover down with my hammer and kiss you then!”
Jim laughed and smiled as he and his boyfriend traded different ways to kiss.
