name:
meaning of name:
nicknames/titles:
age:
gender:
location:
birthday:
strengths + example where it's shown:
weaknesses + example where it's shown:
how it affects others:
emotional depth
attachment style + how it manifests in the story:
physical fear:
emotional/abstract fear:
happy memory:
sad memory:
object of significance:
philosophical outlook/belief:
what characters are ignorant about themselves:
how confident are they:
goal:
long-term dreams:
what they're embarrassed/ashamed to tell others about:
regrets:
source of pride:
source of misery:
what they admire above all else:
do they believe in fate:
personality
mbti:
enneagram:
big five:
character archetype:
star sign:
who they pretend to be on the outside:
who they actually are/how they feel towards the mask:
mental health conditions:
how it manifests for them:
iq:
eq:
humour:
reputation:
habits
bad habits:
mannerisms when stressed:
mannerisms when content:
mannerisms when scared:
mannerisms normally:
verbal mannerisms/distinctive speaking style:
how do they move across a room:
what do they say and what remains unsaid:
how they express love:
hobbies:
appearance
defining features:
eye shape + colour:
hair texture + colour:
skin texture + tone:
vibe:
height:
build:
clothing:
any bodily disfigurement (scars, etc.):
overall attractiveness:
their opinion on their appearance:
appeals to:
relationships
who they trust most:
what they wish they could do for them:
what's holding them back:
who they hate most:
what they wish they could do to them:
what's holding them back:
relationship with the protagonist:
relationship with the antagonist:
siblings:
relationship with them:
parents/step-parents:
relationship with them:
previous broken relationships:
why did it break:
what others expect of them:
who believes in them:
their mentor character/who they look up to:
political/religious/other affiliations:
what makes them different from every other character:
non-human relationships + why:
romantic "type" + why:
relationship dynamics:
backstory/background
primary emotion towards their past:
primary feelings while in their past:
where did they grow up:
defining incidents:
earliest childhood memory:
saddest memory:
happiest memory:
major accomplishments:
their opinion on it:
notable people in their backstory:
effect on them today:
trauma:
what have they already lost:
financial circumstance:
progression
why are they important (eg. why're they the only one able to do something?):
what do they learn about themselves throughout the story:
what do they learn about the world:
how do they feel towards their newfound knowledge:
character arc (positive, negative, neutral):
how relationships change because of their actions:
what mistakes do they make:
what scene is their character highlighted:
do they get what they want:
why or why not:
what happens to them after the story ends:
I noticed that an amazing fic I read with over 60k words and over 900 kudos...didn't receive a single comment in 2022.
There were some comments in 2021, then a gap, then a few comments from this year. That is insane.
Ao3 is not built like Wattpad, it is not meant to be treated like the 'latest hits' page where you only read the new works, or where you only click on sort by number of kudos. It doesn't matter if the fic you like is not wip anymore - if you really like the story, comment. A simple heart will do. The author won't think you're annoying, in fact they'll probably be incredibly happy.
Fic authors don't deserve to have their work just disappear with no engament after few weeks pass. The fics don't deserve it either
>> Glitches in the Digital Afterlife finally has a permanent cover! The conceptual process and artistic development certainly took a small team of creative and supportive friends.
Cover art by Mei (@custardeggtarts)
Styling and title arrangements by Annika (@ahmo_h)
Last but not least, the temporary placeholder design by my partner, Han.
To those who have been reading my weekly chapters, leaving reactions and comments, thank you. We are headed into the final month before submissions close so there is certainly a lot of pressure to make sure I finish on-time with a final product I am proud of. Cheers to the remainder of the GIDAL light novel!
Visit my IG through this post // Read the light novel here!
I'm not sure why running away
Running away now
Feels right with you'
Cause God knows, we tried
Numbing the pain, hiding away now
So I'll play pretend with you (with you)
There was a certain feeling of ease that came from sitting in the dark with someone familiar. The sky had long retired into its usual swirl of dark purple and royal blue hues, illuminated by the half-moon and litter of stars. From where she sat on the damp bench, the sky seemed lighter in the area above the city. The busy downtown core could still be heard from where they sat at the park. It should not have been later than six in the evening, but the winter season played its oldest trick in the book.
She exhaled, “Odd, to say the least, that we’re right back where we started.”
The trees danced behind them under the force of the wind. He blinked, taking in her words before making a point to face her.
“Agree to disagree,” he countered, to which she chuckled. “I would have thought it started a bit further back. The night of the event.”
Her head tilted to the side as if she was admiring the slow rocking boats ahead of them. The tide was low as it usually is at night, but there was still enough happening beyond the seawall. He watched her, pensive about her possible thoughts. She was always stuck in her own head over every little thing, some he grew to hear, others still remained a mystery to be surfaced.
“Sure, but had it not been for this very walk to this bench, we may have never gone further than either of us had intended,” she shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the second wave of cold air. He moved in closer to her on the bench, their knees gently knocking into one another. A simple gesture to show a sense of affection.
They both leaned back against the wooden planks, his hand reached for hers, “You okay?”
She nodded, eyes closing for a moment longer than usual, “Of course, I was the one who brought it up anyways.”
Their intertwined fingers were brought up to his lips for a chaste kiss upon her cold knuckles. The contrast between his lips and her skin sent a small shock, temporarily numbing him.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he smiled as their hands returned to their spot above his knee.
The wind whistled once more and he watched the glitter of city orbs waver amongst the tall buildings of the city’s skyline. The ambience was peaceful. Something that only one could wish for before a departure. A fleeting moment not worthy of unnecessary disturbances remaining in quiet memories with little retellings.
Streetlights, dim glow
Keeping the time, keeping the time now
And this feels like home
'Cause we're both tired of feeling nothing
We're done wandering around with our feet on the ground, yeah
If I just keep close to you
“I’ll drive,” she smiled, capturing his attention as he paused at the car. He fished out the keys and handed them over to her, watching her climb into the driver’s side. She didn’t often get behind the wheel unless the roads were clear enough.
He opened the passenger side, the warm heat of the interior finally welcoming him away from the cold. He got situated as she plugged in her phone, searching for the perfect playlist for the long drive ahead of them.
She paused her scrolling to wipe at her nose, “We feeling like jamming out hard or are we looking for the soft vibes?”
He thought about it for a second, “You mean, murder-y car meets or late night drives?”
She spared her boyfriend a knowing look before pressing shuffle on her playlist. The first song started to play, and a heavy beat with the suspected bass started to build. He nodded, laughing along as the two of them bopped their heads. The gears shifted and she pulled out of the unpaid parking spot, leaving behind the lot to the surrounding trees.
The car made a right and continued down the path. He expected her to take the longer route, the park being her favourite night drive spot she frequented on sleepless nights. He watched the docked boats pass by as they wind down the path along the seawall. The skyline waved, saying a short-lived goodbye when she drove along the bend.
The port passed from view and then slowly the mountains from the North did as well. Under the grand bridge, connecting the downtown core to the northern properties. They soon left the park, completing a whole drive along the inlet and finding themselves back in the city only to leave that behind as well.
Over several bridges and passing under countless street lights, the interior of the car frequently lit up briefly only to return to its comforting, inky ambience. The songs fluctuated enough to keep the background singer occupied as she weaved down the streets, mapless but guided fully by her own memory like she had designed these intersections herself.
They made it past the border, bidding an unspoken goodbye to their familiar home. Their luggage and other travel bags rattled quietly as the ground beneath them rippled. The estimated drive was supposed to be a little closer to three hours but to be completely honest, he had no idea where they were or where their destination would be. The only thought that occupied his mind was the girl in the driver seat humming off-key to some song they would otherwise serenade each other with.
She was distracted, but for the right reason. He leaned against his hand, propped carefully against the ledge of the window while the other held her unoccupied hand. The patterned glow from the passing lights briefly outlined her silhouette to him, her eyes darting to spare him a quick glance before she smiled, “What?”
“Nothing,” he mused before watching the road ahead of them once again. They had pulled off of the highway, making way towards a shopping centre. “Where are we going?”
“Dinner at one of my favourite restaurants in the area,” she shrugged.
Shari’s Cafe and Pies.
The LED lights from the tall sign flooded the car, painting everything a sheer pinkish-red tint like an artificial blush that decorated the pair without the rose-tinted sunglasses.
She nodded towards the door as she locked their car, “Our hotel for the night is just a short drive closer to the city, but I thought you would appreciate some true American cuisine.”
He hummed in amusement, “Sounds like a healthy start to this road trip.”
The bell above their heads chimed, alerting the staff of new arrival. A stout lady made her way over with a half-smile, “Just you two, lovebirds?”
They nodded, following her lead to a booth along the wide windows. Pies were displayed behind the bar, with more pies in a rotating display that sat on the counter. He watched a couple of guys inhale their meals just a little way across the cozy diner.
He scoured the menu, tempted to ask his girlfriend for a recommendation but she beat him to it with a chortle, “Get whatever you’re in the mood for, but I recommend the blueberry pie for dessert.”
He caught her wink before making a face, “You’re just biased.”
She rolled her eyes, “Biased only because it is the best type of pie to exist, second to chicken pot pie of course.”
'Cause some nights I can't explain
The way I feel, the way I'm wired
You make things seem so clear
So we can leave the lights out
And you're sick of questioning
The wait that comes with every hour
But in the night with you it's clear
With their long road trip ahead of them, nights past Seattle and Portland, the ten-hour drive to San Francisco was the longest drive they have had by far. Taking turns with every pitstop for roadside restrooms and scenic views, the drive had been an adventure in itself. They even stopped a little outside of Seattle for him to say hi to an old friend from school.
“Colorado plate up ahead,” she pointed out, index finger towards the white SUV a little ways ahead. “We’re still missing eighteen from this bingo—Have you even been keeping track?”
He feigned shock at her accusation, turning his head to check over his shoulder briefly before switching lanes, “I got two alright?”
She groaned in her seat, finger reaching for another potato chip from the centre console. He chuckled, opening his mouth waiting for her to feed him one to which she obliged. They missed the last pitstop due to the traffic in the lot, deciding to save for the next location instead.
“There’s a stop in about 10 miles,” she nudged, alerting him of the sign that they had brushed past. He nodded, reaching for his iced tea.
“Good,” he swallowed. “I really gotta go.”
“Because you keep drinking all our hydration supplies!”
“Am not,” he bickered, sticking his tongue out teasingly before focusing back on the highway. “Where are we going after San Fran? L.A.?”
Out of his peripheral, she shook her head, “No, we’re gonna stop at Yosemite National Park before L.A. I thought you would enjoy some stretches and light exercises after all the driving.”
He muttered a small, thank god, as he put his bottle down. The remainder of the drive was rather uneventful, just music and the final stop before she took over the drive. Once they got to San Francisco, they located their friend’s Air B&B to unload their stuff before dinner.
Fisherman’s Wharf looked amazing under the winter night sky. The pier was littered with Christmas lights, festive ornaments dangled from the lamp posts. People were bundled up in their winter jackets and windbreakers. Everyone on the pier had smiles on their faces, shoulders brushing against friends or hands held in pockets with their loved ones. Children squealed and ran, parents chasing after them, warning them to slow down.
With a tiny tug, he pulled his girlfriend off to the side, a quieter extension of the pier was occupied by a few couples. The sky was dark and the lights of the wharf reflected in the murky ripples of the ocean. The atmosphere grew cold as a gust of wind brushed their cheeks. He watched her expectantly as she looked across the waters, eyes squinting at what she probably assumed was Alcatraz. His burning gaze caught her attention, she frowned.
“What are you looking at?”
He grinned sheepishly, “You…”
The girl scrunched her nose at both the cold and his cheesy comment, leaving nothing else in her wake as her eyes returned to the waters. His hand reached for hers, folded over the ledge of the pier. The warmth was comforting against her frozen ones, her own fingers lacing with his.
From the stills of ambience, there was a man playing his saxophone by the shops back where they had come from. The water lapped at the rocks and the log rolls shifted below them. People continued to chatter idly. Neither of them tried to talk, soaking in the moment by merely pressing their shoulders together. It was a nice change in scenery from their own port city.
“I can hear your thoughts,” she mumbled from beside him. He hummed in response, briefly tearing his gaze from the Golden Gate bridge in its faintest illumination behind foggy apparitions.
Of course, she did…
He chuckled and removed his hand from hers, draping his arm over her shoulders to pull her closer. He was unable to formulate his thoughts and feelings into cohesive sentences, opting to let her feel for them instead. He was content, and that was enough to leave him satisfied with the moment.
So we can leave the lights out
Yeah, we can leave the lights out
Originally posted to my secondary blog in July 2021. Now rewritten and published as part of my Relocated Writes Series.
First Time by Seven Lions, SLANDER, Dabin & Dylan Matthew
To my beloved partner and the memories of our first event together.
Listen on Soundcloud / Spotify
In the darkness
All I see is you
You
When I'm lost
You lead me home
It's true
Oh
The peaceful room was filled with shallow breathing matched by the infrequent movements under the thin blanket that draped over their bodies. Visions were obscured by the darkness with only little slits of light coming through the thick blinds. Her eyes wandered over where he lay on his side facing her, eyes also narrowly trying to make out her figure. It was hard, but they could just barely see the vague outlines of one another. Her hands lifted away from the spot on his arm, blindly searching for the side of his face instead.
A warm hand meets hers halfway, gently maneuvering hers to his lips before placing them right where she was hoping to find purchase. Her head inches closer to him, following his shallow breathing, and he would do the same, mirroring her small movements until their foreheads touched. She slowly looked up, lips hovering centimetres away from him as the two of them stared at each other through the darkness.
He makes the first and final move, bringing himself closer to her until their lips touch. Slow and languid, he took her upper lip between his. Lost in a bubble of time, their kiss repeated until they pulled away. Inviting and full of adoration, all it breathed was comfort.
Minutes became hours, time was easily forgotten as they filled the gap with pillow-talk from odd rambles to little stories of their separate pasts. In between the hushed conversations that didn’t go beyond the bedroom, were those small kisses that led to lip bites and huffs of joyous disbelief.
This was their moment, after weeks riddled with confusion and awkward hesitancy, this was their opportunity to make up for that lost time, yet it didn’t feel like enough.
So don't stop now
I'm falling for you, I can't lie
I wanted you to stay
'Cause it's hard to run away
It's hard to run away
They saw the sun pass, the sky getting darker yet again as if they never left the early morning kisses and cuddles that they shared less than twelve hours ago. Fingers danced along her shoulder, as she matched his movements, nails gently scratching against the fabric of his t-shirt.
“We should get up soon,” she gave a tired smile.
“What time do you have to head home?”
She took a look at the time on her phone, “Before dinner?”
He nodded, eyes returning to the ceiling briefly before he returned his gaze back to her, “Recovery day.”
She chuckles, “Lazy day is what it is.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” his face contorts ever so slightly as he lets out a little exhale.
He nudges her closer with his arm, her head coming up to the crook of his neck. The familiar scent that always gave her a sense of serenity, was almost overwhelming. She thrived off the soft heartbeat riddled with the scent of her new home. She felt safe.
Almost.
Another hour passes, an hour later than she originally planned to leave. Behind schedule, one might say, but it was hardly a schedule when neither of them even bothered to get up to brush their teeth and grab some sort of breakfast.
“I’ll get up if you get up.”
The infamous lines almost always resulted in neither party moving even the smallest muscle in their tired bodies. Yet here she was, on his lap, hands in a weird web intertwined in his hair and settled at the side of his neck.
“Looks like you’re trapped,” a small chuckle erupted as his legs lock her in place.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers between kisses, arms encircling her hips to keep her steady and safe.
It took way too much effort to leave their comfort spot. Might have just been easier to stay…
I, I knew that you were worth it
I don't know if I deserve this
You, have given me a purpose
You, yeah you were always worth it
She wasn’t supposed to be there, they both knew that. What worked out to be a blatant white lie to her mother, meant an entire weekend spent with one another but it was worth the fib and the extra work done to cover her tracks and to ensure a tight alibi if anything were to come up.
Although she looked at him with nothing less than pure adoration, a part of her still had questions. His eyes held something similar, but he was finding it harder and harder to repress his feelings of eagerness and absolute disbelief.
“It’s funny how it all worked out… but I’m glad it did.”
She smiled back in agreement. There was no arguing with that. This was their moment, after weeks riddled with confusion and awkward hesitancy, this entire weekend was a huge advancement in their newfound relationship and neither of them could deny it. This was their time to make up for what could have been earlier on, but neither of them were upset that it took this long to achieve.
It was almost enough.
Oh, feels like we're falling for the first time
Oh, this is exactly what it feels like
When I can't go to sleep unless you're lying next to me
Oh, feels like we're falling for the first time
They were in separate beds for the first time in two nights, and it felt foreign almost. The messy sheets didn’t feel the same, there was no warm body to roll and tuck in closer to, there was no forehead to lean against and there were no warm lips to press little kisses onto. Her duvet felt heavier, and his left remained cold. Had it always been this empty in their beds?
She brought herself closer to her body pillow, and he draped his arm over his eyes with a sigh. The lack of sleep finally caught up to them, but it was hard to push the feeling of hallow and needing aside. Neither of them had felt this odd sense of missing something for a long time, it was almost indescribable.
One day apart, and I miss you’s were being sent wherever they could get their message across. It was almost cliche how it didn’t take a lot for either of them to feel the way they did. Two evenings spent dancing among sweaty bodies, bodies swaying to the harsh music in a packed stadium as they sang their hearts out to songs they could recall, and early mornings spent lazing around and making out.
That’s all it took for them to feel the tug. The yearning for a comforting, warm embrace and litter of kisses again on the inviting grey linen.
When I can't go to sleep unless you're lying next to me
Feels like we're falling for the first time
He slowly peers down at the girl curled up in his arms, a soft smile tugging at his lips. Here he was, head shaking in disbelief at the sheer luck that has put him in such a spot. One he wasn’t aware he missed so much until she came around. His hand rubs the point of her shoulder a little faster than usual before he exhaled the pressure he had built up in his lungs from holding his bated breath. He leaned down to press his lips firmly to the top of her head.
Her bleary eyes peeked at him through tired slits, a baby-like grin appearing.
“What’s up, handsome?”
“Nothing,” he smiles, as he gives her a tiny squeeze though she remains skeptical.
“Nothing,” he reassured her a second time, urging her to return to her little slumber.
Originally posted to my secondary blog in July 2021. Now rewritten and published as part of my Relocated Writes Series.
One That Got Away by Jason Ross, Dabin and Dylan Matthew
Listen on Soundcloud / Spotify
I know I talk about it too much
But it's the only thing to do
Tell me do you still crave my touch,
Or do you long for something new?
“Hey, sorry I couldn’t answer the phone. Leave your message after the beep, otherwise ring again if it’s urgent!”
The dull tone after her voicemail left him unsure and empty, remunerating on words he had worked up to say but they seemed to evade his mind. His finger traced the rim of the traveller mug in his cup holder, coffee long gone but the flavour still left his mouth feeling bitter and dry. He gulped, realizing his voicemail was taking too long so with a slight cough, he composed himself yet again.
“Hey, uh, it’s me. I hope you’re doing well… it’s been a while and I know this might sound crazy, but I still miss you. If you’re free sometime, we should—we should go out for lunch. Yeah… let me know.”
His finger was quick to slide over the red button, ending the voicemail before he could embarrass himself any further. A huge sigh left his parted lips. Forehead propped against his steering wheel, an exasperated string of curses pieced together haphazardly as he felt his sinus tense up. Tears were welling at the brim of his eyes yet again.
The sound of an engine starting up, snapped him out of his state of anguish. Out of habit, he turned his cheek away from being possibly spotted as the owner pulled out of their parking spot next to his own car. It was something that she hated; how he would turn away to conceal his emotions as if that would fix anything.
Once the car had passed, his head fell back, colliding with the headrest, eliciting yet another strangled sound of desperate yearning. He wanted nothing more than to be able to go home to her, to his source of comfort. The feather-like touches and childish gleams, only the sound of hushed whispers sharing the smallest of thoughts.
That just wasn’t reality.
'Cause I've been in a daze
I can't look away, oh, from you
And I can see you've changed
I wonder if I've changed you too
Her beauty, her grace. She moved with the utmost precision—poised and swift yet oh-so fluid. He knew she was dedicated, evident in the hours out of her week spent in the prestigious studio. Her feet were always sore and her muscles were tense, but not once did she ever complain. It was her muse, there was nothing she would want to complain about. Her smile was still bright, even brighter with the lights centred on her as she performed, hair following her moving frame in a flurry as she spun again, and again, and again.
He never quite understood how she was able to execute all those perfect pirouettes without getting dizzy, even going as far as to call her the human spinning top. She hated that nickname but she would smile regardless, growing fond of his teasing.
From his spot on the balcony, he could tell she had changed. She had grown out her hair for once, a nice length that reached past her collarbones, something she was never able to do before due to her impulsivity to cut her locks before they reached the desired length.
Applauses erupted through the theatre. He blinked once, then twice, realizing her performance was over. She tiptoed to the front of the stage, presenting the crowd with her final bow. Her eyes glistened as she waved and quietly thanked the audience. He applauded as she walked off stage, afraid she would be able to pick him out from the audience had he done so earlier.
I've had too many lonely days
Starin' at my phone, wishin' all this pain away
I wonder if you notice, babe
You're the only one that could make me feel this way
The night breeze caught his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake but he ignored the ticklish sensation, too absorbed with the bottle of warm beer in his left hand, phone in the other. He was thumbing through an old album, series of photos, goofy selfies of their usual antics and candid portraits of her from their outings. She was always insecure about how she looked, worried over what others thought of her—it was the self-deprecating dancer in her—but there was nothing to not admire about her in his eyes, so he captured all her best moments hoping to show her the collection one day.
His finger ghosted over a video, he wanted to skip it but a huge part of him couldn’t bear to do so; curiosity too enticing to refuse.
The screen door behind him creaked open, the stray voice of his best friend caused him to jump, phone and beer almost slipping out of his grasp, “Hey bro, we’re packing up leftovers, you want a share?”
He sighed, managing to compose himself before spilling either onto the old, wooden porch, “Uh yeah, I’ll be in to help clean up in a minute.”
His friend hesitantly lingered, eyes peering cautiously over his shoulder to see what he had been so absorbed with. At the small glance of a familiar video they had seen one too many times, his friend simply retreated back into the house, the front door closing quietly behind him.
The video loaded and his own chuckle echoed in his ear, “What are you doing babe?”
“Stop~” she whined trying to hide her face from the camera view. “I’m breaking in the pointe shoes.”
He watched as she continued to absolutely demolish her brand new ballet slippers, stretching and bending them to ruin the material.
“Why on earth would you do that, you just got them!”
She pauses with her heel about ready to cave in her shoes from the outer arch as she peers up at the camera following her every move, “I will absolutely not be able to dance in them unless they are broken in so I can fit them. I have to do this, it’s etiquette, it’s routine.”
“How, avant-garde,” he murmurs loud enough to catch on. She emitted laughter, causing a flutter of warmth down his spine.
He missed this...
'Cause I've been in a daze
I can't look away, oh, from you
And I can see you've changed
I wonder if I've changed you too
Eyes locked and followed the shape of her lips, lightly dusted a hibiscus red from her chapstick, “It’s been amazing, the new company takes such great care of us. We have performances lined up practically every month. It’s exhausting but also so much fun.”
He smiled at her usual enthusiasm for her professional career in performative arts, “I’m sure it is. Out there chasing the high of performing. You are resting whenever you can, right?”
“Of course, I started sleeping earlier and drinking less coffee,” she chuckles, a teaspoon stirring at her tea latte on the table. “We did this showcase last month…”
Her voice trailed as he fell into thought. Was he to tell her he still attended? He still kept tabs on her performances as if they were still together. He had promised her he would be at every show and every production no matter how small the role because he knew how much effort she poured into ballet. A part of him was never able to neglect that promise despite their break-up.
“It was one of my best ones so far, I wish you were there to see it. Quinceton was there, you would have been able to meet him, we all went for a huge group dinner after!”
The smile on his lips tightened a bit, faltering at the mention of her new boyfriend but he was quick to shake his head, “Sorry, you know how work gets sometimes, but send me the details for your next show, I’ll be there for sure.”
Yeah, I'm selfish
But I can't let you leave
Yeah, baby, if it's up to me
You will never be the one that got away
Originally posted to my secondary blog in November 2020. Now rewritten and published as part of my Relocated Writes Series.
