#“you didn't answer to any of my letters” // “what letters?” trope MY BELOVED

[apricusapollo]

leia and din about luke

[fzzr]

Monogatari Read-Along Re-Watch — Karen Bee

Previously.

Novel

Ah, the Yandere Hitagi scene. This is the most involved cold open so far, and well done. Hitagi continues to be the character who most leans in to tropes. This is not a bad thing by any means, rather it's a lens NISIOISIN can hold up to her and highlight her personality in her deviations from the tropes. In the stereotypical yandere trope, the yandere isolates their beloved from others in order to make them fully dependent on the yandere physically and emotionally. Often this is framed as "protecting" the target from danger, usually in the form of competing love interests. Hitagi plays the scene as though she intends to do the same with Koyomi, but she takes the efforts to keep him dependent on her to such high levels that it is clear that she is teasing (in her usual extreme way) rather than brainwashing him into loving her. We will later find out that her actions are an impulse reaction to hearing Koyomi has encountered Kaiki, whom she considers the most dangerous person for him to interact with. In this sense, she is indeed doing this for his protection, closing the circle of the comparison to the yandere archetype by making it clear that her feelings come from her fear and love rather than some sort of twisted self interest.

Kaiki himself is an important recurring character, through you wouldn't know it from this arc. One of the big questions of Karen Bee (and Nise in general) is the value of a phony. Kaiki presents himself as a non-believer in oddities, even as he is aware of changes to the spirital situation in the area and distinguishes real from fake in a way that could only come from study. In this sense he is a phony phony, using real knowledge while denying its truth to himself and the world. Kaiki is shameless in his fakery, fully self-aware of his despicable actions and insincerity in all his interactions. He presents himself as completely remorseless about the harm caused by his schemes. Even this is a façade to some extent, as we get tiny hints of consideration for others in his checking to make sure Karen has enough money to go home when he robs her and his telling Hitagi that the man who tried to rape her is dead and thus not worth dwelling on as a target of some possible future revenge. There are layers of lies here too. Why would he know that, if he claims not to care about those he swindles? If he's making it up, why would he lie in order to help someone?

Karen, our nominal focus character, confuses me. She's brash and passionate, and even Koyomi has to acknowledge their similarity in acting selflessly. There's no question whether she has the big personality needed to stand among the other characters. The thing is, I still don't feel like I get her. What are her dreams, her fears, her aspirations, her doubts? She wants Justice with capital letters, and projects what that means onto the world. I also have more trouble understanding her relationships than I do any other character. I guess it's in character for her to have unsubtle points of view on people — Yes Justice good, No Justice bad until made into Yes Justice — but I definitely feel like I'm missing things. After the fight with Koyomi he tells her not to develop a crush on him, and she says "too late". That's a somewhat ambiguous answer right now, but I'll be coming back to that after the upcoming Toothbrush Scene.

Structurally, this arc is primarily a sequel to Nadeko Snake, following up on the major loose end of the source of the curses and reminding us that Nadeko didn't really resolve her hopeless crush on Koyomi in that arc. It also introduces Kaiki and the name "Gaen" (linking Suruga into the wider plot as result). Looking forward, yuri aficionado Suruga picks up on things to do with Hitagi and Tsubasa's relationship that will come up soon.

Anime

When I first watched Monogatari as it was airing, Karen Bee was my least favorite arc. As of my previous watch through (not having read the novels yet) it was third least favorite. (I already said what I don't like about Kizumonogatari, and I'll talk about Koyomimonogatari when I get there.) After this watch, that hasn't really changed. I think it just comes down to pacing. It gives each plot point the time it deserves, but the result is the longest arc in the television series in terms of screen minutes.

Still, saying something one of my least favorite Monogatari arcs is like saying one of my least favorite cookies. Like the rest of Monogatari, Karen Bee in the anime is especially held up by how the animation supports what's there. The conversations are generally visually engaging, and make great use of symbolic details to varying degrees of subtlety to communicate things unspoken.

The music is also great as always, with some new tracks added where appropriate. This was the first time I caught the Renai Circulation quote in Yuuwaku, which plays during the visit to Nadeko's house. There's yet another minor key Staple Stable variant during the conversation with Hitagi in episode 6, as well as a more direct reference in Hitagi's new OP. (OK from now on I'm going to stop pointing out when the show uses the theme-song-as-lietmotif trick to set the appropriate mood while calling upon the associations with the character unless it's an especially notable case.)

Conclusion

I wish I liked Karen Bee more. The themes aren't poorly communicated at all — if anything they're beaten through your head. There are lots of strong individual conversations and such, but damn does it somehow feel like it drags.

Really it comes down to I don't think I understand this arc fully — surely the length would be worth it if I did. What was Karen's actual problem? Did she solve it, and if so, how? Was this actually a Koyomi and Hitagi arc and I just missed it? Feel free to explain it to me, because I would really like to understand. For now I'll look back at Nisemonogatari as a whole after Tsukihi Phoenix and see if things are more clear.

[zv5x]

hiya!

hope this hasn’t been written or requested before- if so just disregard! would love a riddlerxreader in which the reader is stalked (finds cards in apartment, things are off or misplaced, that general gist) and is more intrigued and flattered than scared? i know it seems odd but it’s been floating in my brain

hope you have a lovely day/afternoon/night 💚

Yandere!Riddler • Willing!Reader (Romantic Scenero)

hii anon! hope you like this! 💕 (Did I use this gif before??? Maybe. I need more photos of my keychain Eddie ^^;) tw // willing reader , use of the yandere trope , stalking , violation of privacy , breaking and entering , toxic and delusional mindsets , z being hella bad at riddles so they just copied one off the internet

Entering your home, your ears immediately fixated on the repetitive sound of a ticking clock. You hummed to yourself, setting down your keys and work jacket as you allowed the familiar atmosphere to make itself known to your mind once more. Your home seemed to be untouched, as expected, and you tried to make note of any misplaced objects as you made your way to the couch. Scanning the room diligently, your close observation of your surroundings quickly allowed you to locate a bright pink envelope, the same kind which you have grown to expect and appreciate within the past few months.

A warm smile quickly formed itself on your face as you moved closer to it, and stopped when you were just about within reach of it. The letter was identical to the ones you received before, and with that, you knew you were home. The envelope was in perfect condition, and smelled of sweet flowers. A plain heart sticker made its home right in the middle, closing it off and keeping it safe from the possible risk of internal damage to the card it held. Eagerly, as if you were a child expecting birthday money from a relative, you tore open the card to reveal it's contents.

Inside, held a romanticly styled card one would expect to receive from a partner of sorts. A bright red rose decked the front side, and was echoed in it's beauty by the black lace behind it. In a sophisticated cursive font, the words "To my beloved..." stood as the only words visible on the front side. Your warm smile never faltering, you arched an eyebrow. It always made you wonder how somebody could love you so much to go to such extents. Breaking into your home to simply be around your own personal space as well as to leave you such elegant cards holding no sentences that didn't include riddles, it all couldn't help but catch your interest.

Opening it gently, you were met with the familiar question mark symbol drawn in the upper corner of the left side, a sight you expected to see. Your secret admirer always did make it a point to place their own signature upon their work. Written in what looked to be a felt tip pen, a riddle encompassed the middle of the right side.

"I can break, I can be clogged, I can be attacked, I can be given, I can be kept, I can be crushed, yet I can be whole at the same time. What am I?"

You were never good at riddles. Or, at least not as good as you would have hoped by now. However, after some thought was given, you were satisfied on an answer. A heart. More specifically and more likely, his heart. You sighed, almost dreamily, plopping yourself down on the couch with a loud thud as you held the card over your head, almost looking for a secret message of some kind. Bringing it back down to your level and holding it to your chest, you couldn't help but wonder about the identity of the sender. Their general appearance, the sound of their voice, all traits you were getting quite upset with knowing nothing regarding.

Unbeknownst to you, the sender was none other than the friendly stranger who you admit came around too many times for it to be a continuous coincidence. The nice man with the nice voice and the nice demenior, the man who would buy you drinks and snacks at the cafe and always request the same question mark symbol in his late art. The man who would always push his glasses up cutely whenever you said something that managed to fluster him, and the man who always seemed a little too upset when you smiled and waved to the male waiter who so rudely interrupted your conversation to ask if he could get the two of you anything.

He smiled, fondly. Looking through the cameras he had in your room, he couldn't help but wonder how long it would take you to figure out his identity. Just like you, he was getting playfully inpatient as well. He was getting sick of just watching you. He wanted to feel you, hold you, kiss you. Everything he saw normal couples do so effortlessly on his television.

Perhaps it would be in his best interest to make the riddles a slight bit more specific.

[faetarou]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝟑𝐚𝐦

pairing. miya atsumu x f!reader

warnings // disclaimers. swearing, uh, making out

wc. 1.1k

notes. i desire fluff and i haven't written atsumu in ages and i gotta practice writing shorter things so have me and my beloved cliche tropes

Y/L/N Y/N WOULD'VE LIKED TO have said that she wasn't awake at 2:37 am, but she was, and she greatly spited herself for it. Not that her current state of insomnia was exactly her fault. It was just one of those nights where one was inexplicably played by the real world, unable to close their eyes, stuck awake, out of a dream.

Before she could spiral further into those thoughts, a knock at her door almost shocked Y/N out of her skin. She slipped out of bed (she hadn't been asleep anyway, what was the point in pretending to be?), only taking a moment to adjust her oversized shirt-slash-pyjamas before swinging open the door.

"Why am I not surprised?" were the first words out of her mouth, as she closed her eyes and sighed.

Her boyfriend was still there when she opened them again, leaning against her doorframe with folded arms and an insufferable smirk that she hated herself for finding attractive. "And here I thought you'd be glad to see me, babe."

"Miya Atsumu," Y/N sighed. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"2:38 am," he answered without missing a beat. "Trust me, this is gonna be fun."

For some reason, she couldn't stop either her smile or her curiosity from spreading. "And what, pray tell, is 'this' gonna be, babe?"

"I'm glad you asked," he grinned, grabbing her hand and hauling her from her room, giving her only enough time to shut the door behind her.

Technically, it wasn't her room - she was staying at the Miya residence for a few days whilst her own home was being renovated, and thus 'her' room was actually their spare bedroom, but since she'd been dating Atsumu for over a year, it was as good as hers.

Y/N realised in a second where he was taking her - the kitchen - though it didn't exactly explain what they were doing. Their bare feet slapped just slightly on the tiles as they came to the actual kitchen area, Atsumu giggling quietly under his breath.

"Okay, Tsum, what are we doing?" Attempting to be serious and imposing, Y/N propped her hands on her hips, though she just succeeded in making herself start to giggle as well.

"Look what I found a couple minutes ago," her boyfriend responded instead, showing her his phone, clasped in the hand that wasn't holding hers.

She squinted at the screen, "... ghost cupcakes? Oh, fuck no, don't tell me you want to-"

"Yep!" he grinned widely, dropping her hand to scroll through the procedure. "We have everything, so it should be fun and easy."

Y/N inhaled deeply. "Atsumu. Tsum. Tsumie. I love you, but this is ridiculous. It isn't even 3 yet!"

"It will be by the time we're done," he winked, making her groan loudly. "Come on, Y/N, please? For me?"

When she met Atsumu's golden eyes again, she had to let out a long sigh, knowing she could never say no to her beloved boyfriend. And that was the worst part. "Well ... it is technically Halloween, isn't it?"

He laughed in victory, knowing how to spot acceptance when he saw it. "Yes, it is. You in?"

"I guess so," she grumbled, pretending that she wasn't smiling and just a little excited by this clandestine baking endeavour. "Okay, read out the ingredients, lets get everything ready first."

They got out all the components quickly enough, though Y/N was already having second thoughts when she realised they needed an electric mixer for the icing. The thought of Atsumu's mother, the lovingly dubbed 'Mama Miya', waking up and cracking the shits at them for using an electric kitchen appliance at 3 in the morning wasn't exactly on her list of top ten Halloween events.

"Okay," she whispered. "Grab me the butter, dry ingredients first."

Working together, they managed to follow the recipe to the letter (mostly thanks to the power of Y/N's 'absolutely not' glare when Atsumu began to eye the flour like it was a registered weapon), with the occasional sweet cheek-kisses between steps.

Even after months, they still hadn't lost their endearing love towards each other, despite the many people who's insisted that a high school relationship wouldn't last.

"Look at us go, babe," Atsumu grinned proudly as they slid their tray of cupcakes into the oven. "That only took, like, twenty minutes."

Y/N did experience a flicker a pride, though she only showed it through a small curve of her lips (even though he could see straight through that). "Yeah. All that's left is ... the icing."

He referred back to their recipe. "Oh, easy - it's just sugar and butter and a bit of vanilla essence. The black parts we use letter icing for, which we've got in the pantry."

She nodded in understanding, retrieving the final ingredients ... and the dread electric mixer. Swallowing a sudden nervousness in her throat, she weighed out the sugar, butter, and vanilla essence into a bowl, wincing in hesitation before thinking fuck it and thrusting the mixer into the bowl.

Y/N barely stopped herself from screeching and waking up Osamu and Mama Miya as she miscalculated and beat the icing mixture at entirely the wrong angle.

Though she managed to wrangle it into a fluffy icing, she accidentally ended up splattering both in the white mess, it going all over her face and the shocked-into-silence Atsumu's blond hair. Trying her hardest not to giggle, she choked out an apology, but halted when her boyfriend turned to her with an unreadable look in his eyes.

"You've got icing, right there."

With warning, Atsumu grabbed Y/N's face in his hands, pulling her forwards to slam his mouth on hers. She almost collapsed, saved by one of his muscular arms wrapping around her back, his tongue swiping over her lips, in her mouth, collecting all the icing he could reach, and then drawing back with a smug smirk, leaving her to flush and stutter.

"Jerk," she finally managed to get out, when her heart had slowed from its supersonic pace.

"Yeah, your jerk, your problem," he grinned, scrunching his nose in his cute way. "Now, let's ice those cupcakes, hmm?"

taglist. @kenmaslov3r , @jojowantstocry , @gyuuss , @imarriedachef​ , @koukisses​ , @liv-laugh-die​ , @priestt , @tifhen​ , @peppermint-fruit​ , @hortensiyas , @crouchjranddekuswife , @tsukkisukkii , @sugusshi , @encrypta , @fxckingshame . send an ask/DM/use the form to join it !!

࿐ 𝐟𝐚𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 !!

[musicallisto]

without fail tag

THE “WITHOUT FAIL” TAG — List five things that you, WITHOUT FAIL, weave into or explore in your stories, whether it be specific themes or tropes, character archetypes, allusions to other literary works, what have you! It really can be anything that you consistently include in your narratives for whatever reason. Then invite others to share theirs by tagging them!

I was tagged by @deadlymodern - thank you so much for tagging me, this tag is amazing and I loved reading your answers! I can tell you have a very thorough approach to your writing & themes, it’s so cool!

(tagging people at the bottom of the post if you want to skip)

1. flowers, skies & words

grouping them together since they're all related to a wider, general literary device: symbols and allegories in my stories. Without fail, I’ll always use flower symbolism to evoke certain themes, places, characters... withered petals for death, blossoms for youth, you name it, it’s probably been in one of my stories. just consider my main WIP’s title, The Grave of Roses (Le Tombeau des Roses). It’s a little basic, and has been used time and time before in literature, but I still love it.

Other elements that often make it into my stories as symbols are planes (because I love aviation obviously, but also as a symbol of breaking free, independence, of man’s domination on mortality, what with having tamed the skies, but also his frail condition and how everything hangs on a thread). Also, the sky is pretty.

And lastly, words, stories, novels always have their place in my stories, and more often than not one of my characters is a writer, or someone who uses words and stories as some kind of comfort, outlet, or a driving force.

At its [the tombstone] foot, below the name, red roses piled up, enough of them to cover ten graves. A single vermilion bud, a wind-swept poppy, clashed with the rest of the bouquet, and Samuel knew that it was William's children who had placed it there. Only they knew that he didn't even like roses anymore, and that he would come to lay poppies on his father's memorial every time he returned to London...

The tomb was both smaller and prettier than Samuel imagined, less opulent than England would have wanted to give its precious child. The morning sun, like a caress, illuminated the epitaph, a Latin verse that Samuel had known in the past. “Bury me southward,” he heard William say so clearly that he almost turned around, "so that I can look at England and France in the same breath." His name, however, was drenched in full light, facing east, and inexplicably this saddened Samuel.

“And there it is... it's pretty, don't you think? I don't know if he would have liked it... You probably know it better than I do...”

“And why do you care about that, huh? You don't even believe in God.” “He's a writer. He believes in symbols.” “He believes in vanity, alright.”

“I think he would have liked it anyway,” he nodded in agreement, his eyes glued to the lonely poppy. (Translation)

2. parental roughnesses

this was bound to come, because I feel like we were all pretty fucked up at some point in our lives from our upbringing. I didn’t go for straight up “parental issues” because I don’t deal with like, abusive or absent parents or anything, just complicated relationships between parents and their children, but who still love each other. Oftentimes it has to do with one of the children idealizing the heck out of their parent and slowly realizing that they make mistakes and are not a hero at all, and/or unmeetable expectations and parental pressure. but it’s not like I’m projecting or anything lol

“You never knew Father, William,” Grace stopped him immediately [...]. “Don't you dare pretend you know what it's like.”

“Growing up without a father is not necessarily better than losing him in childhood! Everyone here has suffered from his disappearance, Grace. You have no idea how much I miss him, despite never meeting him. But that's all in the past now. And there's no reason for there to be another war.”

“Of course there is!” she retorted ferociously, despite the tears spilling from her eyes. “Of course there is, and they're going to send you there like Father, and you'll want to play hero like Father, and then you'll get shot down like a dog! Where's it going to be this time, huh? Above Luxembourg, just like him, or maybe somewhere in your beloved France?” (Translation)

3. patriotism

One way or another, all my stories always deal with patriotism, nationalism, pride in one’s country and more broadly speaking one’s relationship to it. It questions what it means to belong to a country, to share one culture, one language; does it justify acting in the benefit of one’s country, and where do you draw the line before you intentionnally harm others’; what even is a country, a nationality, and it what sense do you belong to one, and what do you owe it, if you even owe it anything? Is it wrong or right to feel love and attachment to your place of origin? And what does it mean to fight for your country, for its values, for its people? & other things of the like. It probably stems from my own experience as a binational person; growing up, I was always asked stuff like “but who do you root for in a football game” “but are you like really French or not?” “if Spain and France got into a war what would you do?”, and this all lead me to question “am I more French or am I more Spanish - which one am I, and which one would others perceive me to be - do I need to pick a side? And how can I express my affection to these places that raised me both differently, without undermining the other - or others? can I still be proud of my heritage given the horrors my countries have committed in the past?”. I still haven’t found a definitive answer, so my writing is just me throwing trails out to the world and hoping I’ll figure it out someday. that’s why my stories often have a war setting; firstly I just love historical fiction, and secondly it’s the perfect backdrop for all these questions to unfold.

William laughed at the idea - he, a true Frenchman! It was a very silly thought. He may have loved what he had seen of Charlotte's country, but England was not to be ashamed of any other land, for it was the only one he would love until his last breath. (Translation.)

4. just a hint of supernatural

I love me a good ghost story, and I’m a fan of everything spooky, but what’s subtly spooky, and not the gory, in-your-face horror. This particular theme may have increased since I saw The Haunting of Hill House which completely OBLITERATED ME with how it uses the house and its ghosts to tell a story of family and trauma and memories... but I’ve loved ghost stories forever. Another piece that truly resonated with me was One Hundred Years of Solitude (Cien años de soledad) by Gabriel García Márquez. It was my first dive into the world of magical realism and I didn’t make it out of there the same person I was when I entered. This one is not necessarily included in every piece without fail, because some are just too anchored in reality, but if it’s not a straight-up spirit or an otherworldly creature, I’ll always find a way to include an aspect of superstition, a myth, a legend, a tale from faraway that is neither proved nor disproved throughout the story. It truly adds to the atmosphere of the world, even in a very realistic and gritty setting, I believe.

I hear murmurs of legends among the soldiers. [...] One of those stories caught my attention, I must admit... It is not very special, nothing more than a children's tale, but I thought it was beautiful enough to please your Romantic soul. Some pilots speak of a cemetery, somewhere in the countryside north of London, which has something mystical about it, lost in the flowers that sway as far as the eye can see, in the calm rhythm of the wind, wrapped in the heady scent of eternal spring, and where the bravest warriors would go to rest forever, tired of their exploits and the continual explosions. No one knows exactly where it is or what to do to be buried there, but this beautiful image simply floats like a dream in the minds of many and, I confess, in mine as well since I first heard about it.

It is said that there only flowers dare to disturb the heroes in their sleep... This fragment of silence is called the Grave of the Roses.

So if I were to leave you, if you were to hear that I am gone...

With a bit of luck, that is where you will find me.

5. love

this one is broader and less obvious than you might think. Of course, I’ll always, always implement an element of romance to my story (and more often than not it’s angsty with star-crossed lovers or insurmountable obstacles or forbidden romances and whatnot), but there’s more to it. I don’t think I have ever written a story that is entirely grim and bleak, simply because I do not believe the world is built like that. I’ve said time and time again that love is my favorite thing in the world, and I believe it is the force that drives us all forward and connects us all together; love is, to me, the truest power of humanity, and its inherent purpose. And love covers all subjects and all types of relationships, but my absolute favorite ways to explore and show love in my stories is through long-lasting, rock-solid friendships (because friendships are often overlooked both in fiction and real life), and just a grandiose love letter to humanity as a whole. I’m an optimist, and many people who have suffered more than I have would deem me naive for thinking this - and I cannot blame them -, but as Anne Frank put it more bravely than I ever could, “despite everything, I still think humans are good at heart”. My stories are always born out of love and made for love. For the love of humanity and kindness and literature and love of myself, too, because sometimes I just like rereading the words and thinking, “wow, I’ve made it this far. look at me go.” In a word, yes, I would say that is what it boils down to; my work, but also what I hope my entire life and being will be. An ode to love.

“He admired you and truly loved you, you know. You were a good leader, I'm sure, and a good friend, above all.”

He thought she was going to put her hand on his shoulder, and prepared to bend to avoid it, but instead she came to rest on the polished marble of the tomb, which was already beginning to erode at the corners. The soft light bathed her hand, and Samuel's on the other corner, still resting above William's surname, the only thing he had been proud of from beginning to end.

“And I loved him too. I loved them all. If you only knew...”

well, I got carried away, as I always do when talking about my writing, but it made me miss it so much. I haven’t worked on any of my projects since literally October and I’m feeling the void rn. anyway, thank you again for enabling me to ramble about what I love most, Thais! and I’m tagging @softeninglooks, @lxncelot, @myriadimagines​, @swanimagines & @randomfandomimagine + plus any writer who wants to talk about their marvelous work <3

[unheavenlycreatures]

8. Favorite trope to write. 10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about. 14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book? 29. Who do you write for? 54. Any writing advice you want to share?

hey so fun fact babe this has been sitting in my inbox for probably a millenia and whenever i see it i keep saying im gonna sit down and answer but guess what!!! guess what!!!!!!! I am very forgetful SO

8. honestly my least favorite thing to write is background/introduction, so i love established relationship bc if i have to spend any amount of time writing abt the two nerds getting together before i get to the sweet fluffy tooth rot i will Perish--i am incapable of writing slow burn I'm so impatient

10. I'd cowrite a cookbook with you my love! we could spend a lot of time in our little test kitchen and making the Best of Food to share w the world

14. All of the original stories I write are science fiction/urban fantasy, SPECIFICALLY for the purpose of avoiding research. The most research I've ever put into an actual original story is for a manuscript I wrote at 15, which was a story that took the form of a series of letters from a man with amnesia and the session notes from his therapist.

The story went that this guy ends up in the hospital with amnesia after he was found unconscious an embankment. He finds that he has a fiancee, but that she went missing around the time of his accident. Over the course of the story, he is trying to figure out what happened to her and who she was. Spoiler alert: They were recreational storm chasers. The two of them were hit by separate pieces of debris during a storm, and after he regains his memory, he leads authorities to her body.

I had never been to a therapist before, I had no realistic idea of what a storm chaser was or how hard one would need to be hit by debris in order to die, I didn't know anything about amnesia, and eventually i got so bored having to do research that I gave up.

29. Honestly, I mostly write for myself--I am highkey terrified of other people critiquing my writing (a funny trait to have as an english major), so most of it never sees the light of day

54. ye i have a couple bits of advice

1. There is really no good reason you HAVE to write in order--if you really, really don't want to write something, skip it and write the bits you WANT to write. The annoying bits will often fill themselves in after the fact.

2. Sometimes............. big words........................... are worse. Do you need to use words people have to look up? If you do, that's fine, but if you're just doing it for the purpose of adding some ~flair~, you're probably better off leaving it out. It's more important that the reader understands what they're reading than that the work is belletristic--or rather, that it looks pretty on the page.

and tbf this is just how i write re the latter i am v v no nonsense i think if i would not say the word in my everyday vocabulary it is Not on the page

im sorry for taking literal months to answer these my beloved i adore you