#It may be a figure of speech

[pinkinsect]

when i get my hands on a physical copy of egoist bible 2 do u want to see translations even though there's quite a few out already

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[ficoandleo]

'It makes sense if you think about it. After whatever happened last year.'

Leo stared blankly into the last frame of the youtube video on his screen, leaning his chair back to balance on two legs. The corner of the library he'd tucked himself into for research was quiet enough, with even the cats rarely poking their heads by to check on him. Technically he wasn't looking into anything restricted that he'd need to hide for, but he didn't want the noise to potentially be a distraction.

'The weird thing is that there clearly aren't many ghosts around here.'

He drops the chair back down and looks through the Clash memorials. It's a lot of people. Mostly human. He tabs back over to the recent memorials made for victims of the anomalous inpatient. For a while after that there were quite a few ghosts around the campus and the ruined hospital. Leo could sometimes hear the airy, echoey whispers of their voices when he passed by. One or two were strong enough to be seen. In the days following it got quieter and quieter until the only sounds were the living. He remembered seeing students from a few different houses going to the area now and then. Kusanagi, too.

One of those students was a friend of one of the Vagastrom students--he remembered him bringing them over, convinced something was haunting the area.

Ex-Clementia then.

Darkwick was just laying damn near any ghost on campus to rest without letting them stick around and resolve their business? Even if they aren't dangerous? Kind of scummy, but probably just a precautionary measure. Spirits were a little unpredictable.

'A video would be a bad idea then. Too much publicity.' He's only cruel for no reason when it's funny. There's not really any humor in double-shotting a guy who doesn't deserve it. 'But it'd still be interesting to know what's going on there. I'd just have to find a covert way to ask. . .they might be monitoring our messages too much for me to go through YouTube.'

In person would have to do. At some point. Just another thing on his eternal to-do list! Leo stretched and groaned, listening to the pop of muscle and crack of bone and every other reaction his body gave to the movement.

If Taro Kirisaki(Zenji Kotodama, rather, using his name would probably attract too much attention) was a ghost that meant ghouls' souls were probably still intact enough to leave spirits behind, even if they weren't very strong spirits. More importantly if his ghost was still hanging out after this long it meant whatever demon he'd made a pact with hadn't come for him. That or something kept demons from coming to Darkwick, which was unlikely considering how little was really known about demons. If pact-makers did, at some point, unconsciously(?) consume their demons after making their pacts then the demons' souls probably didn't integrate with their own. Either they were neutralized(erased? Laid to rest?) or they were housed within the body and released on death. And there were no records of unknown S-class anomalies or demons appearing after the death of Taro Kirisaki. He died at Darkwick General, there would have to be a report somewhere if something like that happened. That or it was kept majorly under wraps.

And of course no one wanted to talk about The Clash so asking would be difficult right now. He needed a better rapport with the third and second years to get them to talk. But even Romeo didn't want to talk about it too much, and Leo was one of the only people Romeo trusted right now!

Leo exhaled sharply through his nose.

Why is it that everything kind of interesting was always just out of reach? It was like being edged on entertainment and knowledge. That was only fun when there was a good payoff.

Maybe Zenji would prove to be a good payoff in the end. He probably wouldn't know anything--or he wouldn't tell him anything--but maybe he would at least be entertaining.

[wtl-archive]

Any time I'm forced to explain anything about the actual script of this AU I feel like the creator of Cruelty Squad when Pyro was interviewing him

[ithidunes]

im changing my mind on this panel but it still turned out good, so here.

new comic chapter on its way soonish..... 👀

[theyatosimp]

our eyes met but we passed each other by and in that moment I realised that in this world you are just a shooting star who will never know my name

and you made me nothing but an astrophile scouring the skies every single night hoping that our paths will cross again and again

[boyheros]

Thinking about mavericks faceless accent once again. Likely if there's a sound he can't say at the beginning of a word he would just drop it. Like "mill" or "bill" would both just become "ill". /m/ sounds at the ends of words would probably become /n/ or 'ng' sounds. /w/ would probably be replaced by like. vowel mimicry. because w already kinda sounds like a vowel. a little bit. "where/wear" would sound kinda like. ooeear. where the 'oo' sounds like the sound in 'spoon' aspirated /p/ would end up sound like an /h/ probably. like 'poly' (as in roly poly) would sound more like 'holy'. Because the /p/ in that word is pronounced with a puff of air. similar to an /h/

[thebubblesareevil]

Mistaken identity

We’ve all seen Danny getting mistaken for a bat. But what about a bat being mistaken for a Fenton.

When Danny took responsibility for Dan the first thing they did was get him a human form that wasn’t his corpse. Between vlad, clockwork, and his parents they managed to get him a new body that had him looking more alive than ever.

He was a bit tanner than expected, but they figured that came from Danny’s ghostly side.

When it came time for Danny to go to Gotham for school, he refused to leave Dan behind. Instead, using the funds he got from the ghost kings treasury and child support from Vlad, Danny got them a studio apartment close to campus.

His parents outfitted the apartment with all the latest security, of course.

Everything was going great, all expect for one thing…

People in amity park accepted Dan and adapted almost immediately, having gotten used to the many quirks of ghosts long ago. Gotham….was a bit less understanding.

Luckily for him, unlucky for the rest of Gotham, the police there were incredibly corrupt and easy to bribe anytime he had to bail Dan out or, in the case of that one Karen that decided to give Dan shit for painting his nails, bail himself out of any trouble they came across.

Danny did his best to spend plenty of time with Dan, even when he was exhausted, he refused to ignore his little brother.

So after going through hell during finals week, Danny decided to take Dan to the zoo. Danny did his best to keep an eye on Dan, he really did! He had only sat down for a moment, just to rest his eyes, next thing he knew though he could hear someone yelling about violent kids.

Danny immediately jumped to his brother’s aid.

“I’m sorry,” Danny started as he interrupted the screeching woman. “Is there a problem here?”

Dan tried to speak up but the woman wouldn’t let him.

“This brat pushed me out of the way while I was looking at the exhibit and then spewed profanities at me!” She howled.

Danny flinched at the offensive noise on his sensitive hearing.

“No offense mam, but somehow I highly doubt that. My brother may not have the best manners, but he sure as hell wouldn’t push someone for no reason.” He couldn’t comment about the language, Dan knew more curse words in more languages that this woman could speak thanks to ghost speech, and he used every one of them.

“You little brat! How dare-“

“Of course, if you feel that strongly about it, we could always ask to see the cameras.” Danny suggested with a smirk. “I for one would LOVE to see what they have to show us.”

The woman paled before turning away in a huff. “I don’t have time to deal with annoying brats like you.” She said before turning away.

Danny’s eye twitched, “Good, because I don’t have time to deal with an entitled bitch like you.” Danny replied, ignoring the woman’s offended screech.

“C’mon Dan, let’s go get a snack and go see the penguins.”

——

Damien was thoroughly confused by what was going on. This was not how he was expecting this day to go.

He had snuck out of the Manor earlier, desperate to get away from his families judging eyes. The night before, he had encountered a smuggling ring, and after seeing the state the animals were in, he didn’t hold back against the traffickers. It was only because of his training with father that they hadn’t died.

His father called it overkill, he called it Justice.

After what he saw the previous night he decided to spend the afternoon at the zoo and bask in the presence of the animals, knowing that they were all well cared for.

And then the annoying shrew decided to ruin his day. He was ready to verbally eviscerate her when a large man stepped in. One that decided to claim him as his brother.

The man grabbed him by the hand after chewing out the woman and walked him over to the penguin exhibit, only stopping to pick up snow cones.

“I could have handled her on my own.” Damian said, before taking a bite of his treat, “you didn’t need to lie.”

Damian took a good look at the man before him, he had basically collapsed onto the bench when they stopped, the bags under his eyes made drake look well rested.

“What are you talking about?” The man asked before releasing a massive yawn. “I didn’t lie. Believe it or not, you’ve improved a lot since you came home to us. Sure, I could see you pushing someone out of the way a few years ago, but now?”

The man grabbed him by the arm, tugging him into a hug. Damien was too stunned to push back as the man gave him the most comforting, caring hug he had ever had.

“We’re all so proud of you Dan, you’ve come a really long way.”

Damien suddenly felt a pit form in his stomach as realization struck.

He carefully extricated himself from the hug.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding, my name is not Dan.” Damian explained, pulling down the hood on his hoodie.

The man looked at him confused before rubbing his eyes. Taking a second look, his eyes went wide.

“Fuck.” He then proceeded to pull out his wallet. “Do I have enough to bribe a cop?”

Damian frowned, “why exactly would you be bribing the police?”

“Because I apparently just kidnapped a kid.” The man shrugged. “My names Danny by the way.” He said before sluggishly getting up from his seat. “Let’s go see if we can find your parents and my brother.”

“My father is not aware of my current location.”

Danny paused, giving Damian a long look before nodding, “We’ll if your gonna sneak out, at least you went someplace educational.”

Damian looked at him confused as the man stretched.

“Well then, let’s go find Dan and get something to eat before we get you home. I’m sure your father is worried sick.”

Danny then grabbed Damian by the hand and started to lead them back the way they came. The crowds parting at the sight of the large man.

“I do not need an escort, I am more than capable of returning home on my own.”

“That may be so,” the man started. “But I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep tonight if I didn’t make sure you got home safe. You wouldn’t want me to be deprived of sleep, would you?”

Damian considered the statement. The man was clearly on the brink of collapse. “Very well.” He nodded.

The approached the tiger exhibit to pure chaos as the animal handlers tried to retrieve a boy from the tiger cage. Danny sighed before Damian could try to sneak away and jump into action.

“And here I thought I wouldn’t have to bribe anyone today.” Before he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted “DAN FENTON! IF YOU DONT GET OUT HERE IN THE NEXT 2 MINUTES, ILL TELL JAZZ!!”

The zoo keepers nearly panicked as the boy immediately jumped up, completely ignoring the tigers and climbed out to join his brother.

[gibbearish]

does anyone know of a yknow. chill youtuber who's looking for a captioner

[maskedbyghost]

simon reciting his vows between your thighs. i had to write this, i'm not sorry guys. i mentioned it briefly here. enjoy! MDNI, SMUT

simon kneels between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips possessively. his eyes glimmer with mischief as he leans in, teasingly brushing his lips against your skin, igniting a fire within you.

“I kneel before you not just as your husband by arrangement, but as a man who can’t help but be mesmerized by everything you are,” he begins, his voice barely a whisper. his warm breath sends shivers racing along your body, heightening your desire as he places soft kisses along your inner thighs.

“I vow to cherish every moment we share, to honor the bond we’ve created, even if it started as part of a mission,” he continues, tracing his tongue over your skin, the sensation making your breath hitch in your throat. he glances up at you, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“I promise to be your shield, love, to guard you against any harm that might come your way, even if that means stepping into the line of fire—figuratively and literally,” he says, interrupting his speech with a teasing lick, his mouth just barely grazing your most sensitive spots.

“and I vow to always listen to your needs,” he adds, his tone playful. “even when you insist you want to sleep in separate rooms.” simon smirks, his lips brushing against your thighs as he leans in closer, teasing you with tantalizing kisses that leave you gasping for more.

“I’ll support your dreams, no matter how wild they may seem,” he murmurs, trailing soft kisses up your inner thigh. “whether it’s cooking that meal you love or taking on the world together, I’ll be right by your side.” his breath is hot against your skin, each word wrapped in a promise.

“and I vow to always make you laugh, to chase away your worries, and to be the man who brings a smile to your face at the end of every day,” he vows, his mouth moving closer, teasing you with his warmth as he licks a slow stripe down your thigh, drawing a soft gasp from your lips.

“and when the night falls, I’ll remind you that you’re not alone,” he whispers, his tongue flicking against your most sensitive spot, the sensation sending shockwaves through you. “I’ll hold you close because that’s where you belong—right here with me.”

his gaze locks onto yours, determination shining through. “you’re not just my wife by necessity; you’re my partner in every sense of the word. I may not have chosen this path willingly at first, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything now.”

with that, he leans in, his mouth capturing your most intimate parts, devouring you completely, his tongue working expertly to drive you wild with pleasure. every lick and kiss sends you spiraling deeper into ecstasy.

you lose yourself in the sensations, every teasing kiss and hungry lick pulling you closer to the edge, and as he continues to worship you, the world around you fades away. all that matters is simon, his devotion to you, and the bliss he brings.

--------------------------------------------

s(creaming)

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving

[stars-obsession-pit]

The Justice League was too late. The cult had successfully completed their summoning ritual, and a figure began to emerge from the crackling green rift in the air

A teenage boy in a black jumpsuit, holding a clipboard and a pen.

The figure barely seemed to pay attention and just launched into a rehearsed speech, tone bored. “Thank you for summoning the Ghost King. Due the influx of summonings, he is unavailable at the moment. I’m Phantom, and I’ll be serving as your intercessor for the time being. I am authorized to act on His Majesty’s behalf, but any larger scale actions may have a short wait time before they can go through—just a few decades at most.” His voice then picked up, tone casual. “So… whatcha looking for?”

Then he did a double take, the chaotic scene he’s appeared in finally seeming to register in his mind.

“…Err, which ones of y’all specifically performed the summoning? I need it for the file.”

[nekonaps0]

TWST boys drunk around their girlfriend pt1

✦Characters: dorm leaders

✦part2 part3

Riddle Rosehearts

Drunk Riddle is hilariously dramatic and clingy. The moment the alcohol kicks in, all of his strict rules fly out the window. He’ll blush like a tomato and demand affection in the most formal but ridiculous ways:

“Dearest… my precious rose… I insist you allow me to hold your hand for exactly ten minutes—no, fifteen!”

Expect declarations of love shouted across the room and drunken scoldings of others for not treating their partners with as much devotion as he treats you.

Leona Kingscholar

Drunk Leona gets lazy-affectionate and jealous. He’ll pull you into his lap, bury his face in your neck, and refuse to let go.

“You smell good… don’t move. There where I wanna be.”

He mumbles sleepy praises and suddenly becomes very territorial, glaring at anyone who comes too close. He won’t admit it, but alcohol makes him more vulnerable. If you catch him in that state, you might hear soft confessions like:

“…Thought about you all damn week. You don’t leave my head… So annoying”

Azul Ashengrotto

Drunk Azul is embarrassingly flirty and self-deprecating. Alcohol melts his insecurities and leaves him rambling about how he doesn’t deserve you.

“I must’ve made a deal with fate to have you, my pearl of the sea…”

If you reassure him, he might cling to you, murmuring:

“I don’t get why you chose me… but I’m not letting you go. Ever.”

Also expect him to try and impress you by reciting business figures.

Kalim Al-Asim

Drunk Kalim is like a puppy on sugar. He’s all sunshine and dizzy, twirling you around, hugging everyone (especially you), and loudly telling the room how much he adores his girlfriend.

“Isn’t she the cutest thing you’ve EVER SEEN?! I’m so lucky!! Let’s get married! Right now! Jamil, you can officiate!!”

He’ll try to climb on a table to sing a love song to you, and Jamil will be suffering in the background, silently begging you to rein him in.

Vil Schoenheit

Drunk Vil is honest. His inhibitions drop, and so do the carefully maintained walls around his feelings. You’ll hear real, raw vulnerability, how tired he is of perfection, how afraid he is of losing you.

“You love me even when I’m not… beautiful, right?”

He’ll rest his head on your shoulder and let you take care of him for once. If you compliment him genuinely, he’ll tear up (and immediately scold himself for ruining his makeup).

Idia Shroud

Drunk Idia is chaotic. He suddenly wants to karaoke, take selfies with you. And he won’t shut up.

“BABE! did you know that you’re like, statistically, 1000% cuter than any anime waifu in existence? I ran the math. It’s SCIENCE!”

He’ll cling to you like a lifeline and keep rambling nonsense, but it’s adorable. If you kiss him, he might short circuit and pass out.

Malleus Draconia

Drunk Malleus is dangerously charming and deeply sentimental. His speech gets more poetic, and he becomes incredibly soft and gentle with you.

“You, my starlight… have illuminated centuries of solitude. Touch me… remind me that this warmth is not a dream.”

He’ll stare at you like you hung the moon, and may confess feelings he hasn’t yet voiced sober, like wanting a future together. You’re his tether to humanity in that moment. If you call him cute, expect a very confused but pleased Draconia:

“…Cute? But I’m a terrifying dragon… Am I not?”

..............................................................................................................................

thank you for reading <3

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff

Just a few suggestions. You shouldn’t have to compromise your writing style and voice with any of these, and some situations and scenes might demand some stiff or jerky writing to better convey emotion and immersion. I am not the first to come up with these, just circulating them again.

1. Vary sentence structure.

This is an example paragraph. You might see this generated from AI. I can’t help but read this in a robotic voice. It’s very flat and undynamic. No matter what the words are, it will be boring. It’s boring because you don’t think in stiff sentences. Comedians don’t tell jokes in stiff sentences. We don’t tell campfire stories in stiff sentences. These often lack flow between points, too.

So funnily enough, I had to sit through 87k words of a “romance” written just like this. It was stiff, janky, and very unpoetic. Which is fine, the author didn’t tell me it was erotica. It just felt like an old lady narrator, like Old Rose from Titanic telling the audience decades after the fact instead of living it right in the moment. It was in first person pov, too, which just made it worse. To be able to write something so explicit and yet so un-titillating was a talent. Like, beginner fanfic smut writers at least do it with enthusiasm.

2. Vary dialogue tag placement

You got three options, pre-, mid-, and post-tags.

Leader said, “this is a pre-dialogue tag.”

“This,” Lancer said, “is a mid-dialogue tag.”

“This is a post-dialogue tag,” Heart said.

Pre and Post have about the same effect but mid-tags do a lot of heavy lifting.

They help break up long paragraphs of dialogue that are jank to look at

They give you pauses for ~dramatic effect~

They prompt you to provide some other action, introspection, or scene descriptor with the tag. *don't forget that if you're continuing the sentence as if the tag wasn't there, not to capitalize the first word after the tag. Capitalize if the tag breaks up two complete sentences, not if it interrupts a single sentence.

It also looks better along the lefthand margin when you don’t start every paragraph with either the same character name, the same pronouns, or the same “ as it reads more natural and organic.

3. When the scene demands, get dynamic

General rule of thumb is that action scenes demand quick exchanges, short paragraphs, and very lean descriptors. Action scenes are where you put your juicy verbs to use and cut as many adverbs as you can. But regardless of if you’re in first person, second person, or third person limited, you can let the mood of the narrator bleed out into their narration.

Like, in horror, you can use a lot of onomatopoeia.

Drip Drip Drip

Or let the narration become jerky and unfocused and less strict in punctuation and maybe even a couple run-on sentences as your character struggles to think or catch their breath and is getting very overwhelmed.

You can toss out some grammar rules, too and get more poetic.

Warm breath tickles the back of her neck. It rattles, a quiet, soggy, rasp. She shivers. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. Sweat beads at her temple. Her heart thunders in her chest. Ba-bump-ba-bump-ba-bump-ba- It moves on, leaving a void of cold behind. She uncurls her fists, fingers achy and palms stinging from her nails. It’s gone.

4. Remember to balance dialogue, monologue, introspection, action, and descriptors.

The amount of times I have been faced with giant blocks of dialogue with zero tags, zero emotions, just speech on a page like they’re notecards to be read on a stage is higher than I expected. Don’t forget that though you may know exactly how your dialogue sounds in your head, your readers don’t. They need dialogue tags to pick up on things like tone, specifically for sarcasm and sincerity, whether a character is joking or hurt or happy.

If you’ve written a block of text (usually exposition or backstory stuff) that’s longer than 50 words, figure out a way to trim it. No matter what, break it up into multiple sections and fill in those breaks with important narrative that reflects the narrator’s feelings on what they’re saying and whoever they’re speaking to’s reaction to the words being said. Otherwise it’s meaningless.

—

Hope this helps anyone struggling! Now get writing.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

[angeloftrumpets]

ended up going down the fucking rabbit hole YET AGAIN and ended up finding this cool video that is a lightshow synced to the nativity ep!! AND THE LIGHTS ARE SYNCED WITH THE CHARACTER TALKING AND THEY HAVE ONE FOR TOON!!!

[writer-logbook]

How I improved my writing style... without actually writing.

Intro : It's just a clickbait title to talk about theory and side techniques - before actually practicing, of course.

LINGUISTIC ISN'T GRAMMAR - AND IT'S BETTER TO KNOW ABOUT BOTH. It's useful for writing impactful dialogue and giving your characters depth. Your characters' language should (ideally) take into account: their social position (rich or poor), the locality (local expressions?) and sometimes their age (different cultural references). And this is best transcribed with linguistic knowledge. In short: linguistics is descriptive, grammar is prescriptive.

The areas of linguistic analysis are syntax (rules governing the structure of sentences),  semantics (meaning),  morphology (structure of words), phonetics (speech sounds and equivalent gestures in sign languages), phonology (the abstract sound system of a particular language, and analogous systems of sign languages), and pragmatics (how the context of use contributes to meaning). (Linguistics, Wikipedia)

Literary theory isn't as boring as it sounds. Learn more about internal criteria of the text (figure of speech, style, aesthetic...) and external criteria of the text (the author's persona and responsability, the role of the reader and what is left to interpretation...). I refer you to the French Wikipedia page, which you can translate directly via your browser in case you need more information. (Make sure you translate the page not switch language, because the content isn't the same).

Listening to Youtube Video about the analysis of film sequences and/or scenario. Remember when I told you to read historical fiction to learn how to describe a castle properly ? Same vibe.

Novel adaptations of movies. = when the movie exists before the book, and not the other way around. e.g : The Shape of Water ; Pan's Labyrinth. In line with tip n°3, it allows us to see how emotions, scenes and descriptions have been translated into writing - and thus to better visualize concepts that may have been abstract.

Read books about authors' writing experiences. e.g : Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. Everyone's different, but they can provide some insightful tips not only on the act of writing itself, but on the environment conducive to writing, planning… Comparing completely different authors' experience could also be fun (this video of King and Martin is actually one of my fav)

Ah and many thanks for your ❤ and reblogs on my latest post ! UwU