#I am writing?

[phantom248]

Adventures of Zhuo Yichen in Gong family, part 2

(Continuation of this)

Gong Ziyu almost choked on air when he saw a white figure jumping up and down under the only fruit tree in Jue palace's courtyard. This addition was few years old, none of them able to understand why a man like Gong Shangjue who thought of such things as frivolity would plant a tree like that in his courtyard. The small figure continued their attempts at swiping the fruit from the tree, with varying success. Dressed in pale cream and white robes with cream colored fur cloak and a gleaming gold headband, the slim figure looked like a fairy that had deigned to bless the mere peasents like them with its presence.

Curious, Gong Ziyu sneaked closer, because how was it possible Gong Shangjue, who was a notorious stickler for rules, to allow anyone inside the palace? It couldn't even be a servent, with that gleaming gold headband that although looked thin, was expensive for any servent.

Upon closer look, Gong Ziyu really choked on air when he realized that the figure he called ethreal in his heart (ok who was he kidding? He really thought that brat was pretty for a moment) was Gong Yuanzhi.

Feeling mischievous, he snuck up to his brat of a cousin and called his name, delighting in the way the smaller figure let out a shriek and then outright cackling when Gong Yuanzhi ran behind the tree and hugged the trunk, peeking out from the side to look at him.

Gong Ziyu couldn't help but admit that the little brat really looked cute. Only in his heart though because if Yuanzhi could read his thoughts, he would have already taken his head off.

"And what are you doing here instead of the clinic?" He leaned forward, leering at him, having way too much fun.

Yuanzhi stammered out. "I was... I wanted that fruit..."

Gong Ziyu easily jumped up and snagged a plum one, waving it in the air mockingly. "Oh this? But I thought you could already reach the branches by now? Are you still a pip squeak?"

"You-!" Gong Yuanzhi indignantly shouted, his red cheeks puffing up, coming at him. Gong Ziyu jumped back, a smarmy grin appearing on his face. "Ah ah ah! I am older than you, call me gege!"

To his surprise, the brat deflated, looking down at his feet. "... gege."

Gong Ziyu's eyes widened at the low sound. He couldn't believe his ears! The brat who always insulted him and never let a chance to disrepect his entire family was calling him gege! And so adorably too! Maybe the brat was sick, his brain addled with some poison or something.

Perhaps it was the all that wine that he consumed, or maybe the idea that today he could mess with his normally thorny, poisonous hedgehog like cousin was too tempting to let go that he siddled closer. He teased him, enjoying the way his cheeks reddened from embarrassment. He swiped more fruit, finally sharing it with Yuanzhi, and regaling him with embellished tales of his adventures outside the residence that was too tempting to ignore for a child who had never seen the outside world, taking delight in the way Yuanzhi's eyes narrowed and widened like a kitten, letting out oohs and awwhs at the appropriate places.

As he was convincing his younger cousin to go with him outside without informing Gong Shangjue, both of them were caught unawares as a heavy black cloak landed on Yuanzhi's head, who let out an oomf, staggering under the weight of heavy fabric. Before he could even right the fabric, their assailants were on them.

"Didi," Gong Shangjue's voice freeze them both. "Did I not tell you to stay inside?"

Gong Yuanzhi immediately turned, facing his brother. "And I didn't! I stayed in the courtyard, he was the one to come here. I only wanted some fruits! And I met no one else, promise!"

Their older cousin raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at Gong Ziyu.

"But I thought he was family, not a stranger! Isn't it safe with him? He was talking about some pavilion outside and jiejies there-"

"Jin Fu." Gong Shangjue's voice was so cold that Gong Ziyu shuddered with fright. That's it. This was the end. The man was going to murder him for mentioning the brothel to his didi. Thank you everyone for all the support they gave to him, because today that would end as no one will be able to find his body.

The Jade Guard only nodded and darted forward, easily picking up their youngest cousin like a sack of potatoes who let out a squeak, protesting his treatment. Gong Ziyu only heard a single sentence from the jade guard in answer "And how will we answer your gege if something happened to you outside?"

It was weird thing to say, considering the gege in question was the one to catch them, but he was too worried about his life to care about the mystery. He was frozen like a dear, trapped under the dark gaze of his oldest cousin. Finally, Gong Shangjuebstepped closer, making him wilt even before he opened his mouth.

"I do not care what you get upto on your own, Gong Ziyu, but do not drag Gong Yuanzhi in your antics. Understood?"

"Crystal" he squeaked out, almost breaking out in a run when his older cousin waved his hand dismissively. He finally stopped at some distance, hands braced on his knees, panting. He threw a last look at the Jue residence, catching sight of a pouting Yuanzhi being handed fruit from his gege who was firmly shuffling him inside, not letting him even peek back. His gaze me the Gong Shanjue again, and this time, he bolted, vowing to not even stray close to the brat lest his brother dug out his entrails and hung him from them.

Why had Gong Shangjue forbidden their youngest cousin from meating others? Why was he behaving as if Gong Yuanzhi was a pure maiden though, hiding him from everyone's gaze?

Alas, he loved his entrails inside his body too much to investigate this mystery.

[roboticnebula]

Pros of re-reading your own fic

a good time;

Has exactly the tropes you like and the characterization you want to read;

Gratification: yes you did finish a thing and yes you did do good;

just a very fun time all around.

Cons of re-reading your own fic:

Is that another TYpO

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[helpful-writing-tips]

if you're trying to get into the head of your story's antagonist, try writing an "Am I the Asshole" reddit post from their perspective, explaining their problems and their plans for solving them. Let the voice and logic come through.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[solarsyrup]

for whatever reason tumblr has flagged this post from a deleted blog as explicit so I can't even reblog it anymore which is a shame because it's one of my absolute favorites

[mamaangiwine]

I don't think many people realize how much they've been turned into a bunch of casually cynical jerks.

Someone may come to their parents and say "I want to write a book" and their parents will say "it's really hard to get published".

Someone might confide in their sibling and say "I want to sell my art on "x" platform" and that sibling will say "do you know how many people you'd be competing with? Do you know how many shops are even on that platform?"

I know a kid who once told his best friend "I think I wanna start a dnd podcast" and the friend was like "do you know what the word "oversaturation" means?"

Personally, I don't know why any of that matters? And even if it did, perhaps your response should be "Do it! Do it and see where it goes!"

[kriz-smthn]

[lo-fag]

idk man. i just think itd be really cool if sign language classes were mandatory throughout primary school. yeah because it would make communication with deaf kids and autistic/nonverbal kids much easier. and those kids would be accessible to the others so they could make friends and have healthy relationships. yeah. and kids would eat that shit up man. like their own little secret language? they love that.

[ellenchain]

I am Jayce

[whatkindofnameisella]

can you believe that we have fanfiction. that we have websites dedicated to fanfiction. that there is a place that you can go and read tens, hundreds, thousands and thousands of pieces of writing that strangers have made. people who are not "writers". people who come home at the end of the day and have feelings and say, i am going to put that into words. i am going to share those words. short, long, sweet, sad, horny, funny, wonderful words. we are all just human and we all love to make and remake and share that with others. can you believe that.

[trekkiesagainstchastity]

It doesn't matter if that fic has been in your drafts for years and is now self-indulgent to the point of parody. If Steven Moffatt is allowed to do it professionally, you are allowed to do it for fun.

[anna-pineappel]

Writing really goes one of two ways:

1. Write 3k words in 30 minutes

2. Takes 3 hours to write 3 sentences

There is no in between

[maeamian]

If you saw me agreeing with being annoyed about wasted helium in a fictional context and were like "I bet she has some more helium based anger in her life" good news LAPD fucked up a raid on a medical facility they thought was a pot farm and flat out ruined thousands of gallons of the stuff.

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[nonebinary-leftbeef]

DEVASTATING the lyric you've been mishearing is better than the real one