#also sorry for all the commas i use a lot of them in my writing oops

[kestalsblog]

Basic Tips to Improve Your Writing

I used to read a lot of unprofessional writing online, and through that endeavor, I started mentally compiling different qualities that turned me off to people's work right away. I'm sharing some of my thoughts about ways to improve your writing so others don't click off your work right away!

-Change paragraphs when different characters are speaking.

-In that same thread, remember to make new paragraphs and not have one giant block of text. This isn't only discouraging for some readers, but actually physically impossible to read for those who are visually impaired.

-Learn grammar. Sorry, but there is no way around this one. For example, commas aren't just for aesthetic appeal or your personal choice, and it will turn some readers away if your writing is littered with grammatical errors. You can't break the rules for creative purposes if you don't even know them, and the difference is generally apparent.

-Remember the narration style you've chosen. For example, if you're writing in third person limited, you can't think outside the mind of your main character. Don't jump suddenly to the thoughts of other characters or an all-knowing, omniscient voice.

-Slow down. Each word matters, so try not to think of writing as "I must get from Point A to Point B," but "I must get from Point A to Point B beautifully."

-Avoid repeating the same word or phrase too much, especially within the same paragraph. There are exceptions in dialogue, of course. (It's sweet when writers acquire their own personalized phrasings that mark their voice, but I have turned away from works where the exact same line just kept coming up again and again).

-Don't forget about setting. You might be able to imagine where your characters are, but no one else can if you don't let them know.

-Use a consistent verb tense.

-Your characters are not you and generally shouldn't always be mouthpieces for you to share your own values and thoughts.

-Your characters should sound distinctly different from each other, including their talking styles.

-Don't bog the reader down with too much description, and make sure the description you do have is realistic. Think about it. In the morning, do you wake up, go to the mirror, and think to yourself, "I looked at my shaggy dark hair and emerald green eyes"? Nobody thinks that way about their own appearance, and it feels like a forced way to let the reader know what the main character looks like.

-Also, related, there's no need to start tossing out every character trait for each character if it's not relevant to the story.

-Last, show some passion and excitement for your own work. Make sure the language embodies that passion because if you don't even care about your writing, who will?

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR

Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.

“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.

His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.

He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.

Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?

As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.

“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?

Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.

“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”

Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.

Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.

“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.

My Dearest Lucifer

His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer

“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.

My Dearest, Lucifer

       It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.

“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).

“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.

“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?

Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.

Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.

How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.

But now...

Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.

Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.

“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.

Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.

He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.

[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.

Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.

Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.

“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.

A bit of a timeskip....

It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.

Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.

“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.

“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”

[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.

Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”

[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”

Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”

“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.

“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.

“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.

“That's it, you've crossed the line!”

“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”

You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.

Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.

After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.

I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.

Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.

[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.

Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.

Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.

I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.

I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.

Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?

For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.

Terrifying.

[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.

“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.

Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.

It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.

She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.

END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE

TAGLIST:

@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover

[when-life-gives-you-lemons-if]

Did you ever think about using AIs like GPT, Claude, Gemini (all free) to help you in writing your game? They could help you in writing a scene, for example.

What a nice way to say that I'm a mediocre writer, Anon. 😄

No worries, I know I am not great.

But I personally believe that I have come a long way since writing The Midnight Saga (That thing is filled with bad grammar and typos and that's why I've been discouraged to continue book 2 because I need to revamp book 1).

I believe that since then, my English has improved, and my writing has improved. It's to the point where I can read a text and spot the typos and bad grammar before even using my beta testers.

I also really love my writing style. It's silly and unsophisticated and it's me. Yes, I don't know where to place a comma or a period, but hey, I'm trying.

I'm not a fan of AI, and I won't learn if I use them. However, I do use a lot of synonyms and run my text through Grammarly to check for bad grammar and sentence structure.

PS: If that's not what at all you meant, sorry. I tend to take things out of context until it's explained to me clearly. 💕

[moonyswritinq]

howdy! i recently stumbled upon your account and saw that your requests were open. i have a small request for a newt x m!reader one-shot. feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like you're up for it 👍

maybe one where the reader has longer hair, and is a runner, as the weather's gotten warmer it's starting to become more of a chore when it comes to maintaining it so he asks newt to help him cut it? it can be as silly or goofy as you want, platonic or romantic is up to you.

i hope you're having a great day and enjoying the fall weather

-🦇

if the haircut fits — newt x male reader

❝ IF THE HAIRCUT FITS ❞

Thank you so much for the request, Bat. So sorry it took so long to finish, and I kind of ran away with this one, but I hope you enjoy!

SYNOPSIS ➢ As summer started to creep into the Glade, the sun’s rays had been hitting you much harder than usual; your hair, especially, have been more of a nuisance. Your solution? Get one of your closest friends to cut it for you. But losing the weight of your hair made you want to get rid of some weight off your chest, as well.

PAIRING ➢ newt x male reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ friends to lovers, kissing, touching, banter, light insults sexual innuendoes, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, mentions of eating, mentions of drinking, slight violence (a slap), mentions of body, no use of y/n

WORD COUNT ➢ 7.3 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ I like to keep any image of the reader’s body out of my writing, but in this he’s implied to be well built, but not explicitly mentioned. The hair may also be more of a non-black standard, since I’m not sure exactly how black hair behaves in this situation, but I tried to keep it as vague as possible. I’m sure there are also a lot of inaccuracies in this concerning the Glade, such as the weather and the sun and the lake, but for the sake of this fic it works like I say it does — I am the author and therefore, God.

The air had gotten warmer recently. You’d noticed it only a few days ago, when your breath hadn’t exhaled in a cloud of white smoke and your neck had started to sweat after a full day of running in the Maze. The weather didn’t exactly respond to how the seasons—that on some level your subconscious knew existed—worked, but it changed all the same. It had only gotten warmer, and quickly, too. With the sun bearing down on from overhead, the air was chokingly warm, your skin practically dripping with sweat and the ends of your hair clinging to your neck. It had grown long during the past few months and while it was a comfort in the colder weather, strands of it now hung uncomfortably in your eyes despite your best attempts to pull it back into a knot.

Minho walked just in front of you through the gates of the Maze and entered the green forestry of the Glade. The walls closed right behind you and in spite of the late hour of the day the sun still shone bright in the sky. He was just as eager to take cover from it under the cool shade of the Glade’s woods as to throw himself into the equally cool lake. You ran up beside him, patting him on the shoulder.

“This weather,” he grunted, wiping the palms of his hands on his trousers. They left tracks of sweat. “I swear it’s got something against us.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a sigh. You peeled your drenched shirt from your skin, pulling it over your head in an attempt to ease some of the warmth. It didn’t made much of a difference.

Minho threw you a sideway glance as you walked across the green fields. “Eager to show your body off?”

You threw your head back in a bark, sidestepping so you would walk backwards to face him. Your hands spread as your head tilted with conviction.

“You’d want to show off your body too if it looked like this,” you said. Minho couldn’t help but smile at your comment, shaking his head in exasperation. You turned around to walk beside him normally again. 

As the two of you made your way to the lake, you passed the gardens and its track-hoes, Newt being one among them. Despite the fact that he was second in command, he liked the calming repetitiveness of caring for vegetables and flowers. He’d told you one late night when you’d found him sitting by himself, staring up at the night sky, and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Now, his eyes met yours in an instant, as if he’d known exactly where you were. As if he’d been watching you for some while, and waiting for you to notice. Your stomach flipped at his unashamed staring, nervous under the gaze, as your mind drew a blank. Quickly, you rearranged your mouth into a smirk, to which he shook his head out of his stunned stupor and continued with his task, but you could tell his mind wasn’t present as his eyes kept jumping back and forth.

Minho saw your smug smile and hit you across the chest, hard enough to cause you to stumble. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Newt cover his mouth from something that looked like a chuckle and you glared back at Minho’s now-smug smile. He just tilted his head and kept walking to the cover of the trees.

“You can flirt with Newt later,” he said. “Let’s go wash off.”

“I wasn’t flirting with anyone! Let alone Newt.”

“Whatever, man.”

You grumbled something unintelligible, which he ignored, as you walked together to the lake on the other side of the Glade. It was a rather long walk, but the time in the trees’ shade cooled you down nicely. Reaching the lake, the water was darkening with the passing of the sun, seeming almost more ominous now than inviting. You found a few other Gladers there already, some of them laying by the bank with their shirts discarded and the rest of them submerged in the water. Minho wasted no time removing his shirt and running into the dark water. You discarded your earlier thoughts and quickly followed suit, pulling your hair from its knot and jumping into the lake with a splash that earned you an ugly glare from a Glader nearby. Minho shared the glare and slapped the water hard, sending it flying in your direction.

“Shankhead,” he muttered.

You only laughed and leant backwards, fully submerging your body under the dark water. Your muscles relaxed and let the water carry you out further in the lake, effectively cooling you down. This was exactly what you needed after a warm and exhausting day; your head under the water, your hair spread around you like the halo of some angel—if an angel could be trapped in a maze. The cold water felt like a blanket across your mind, quieting your thoughts down to a tenth of their usual volume. There were few things that could calm you like this.

The peace didn’t last long, though, as Minho’s hand suddenly closed over your arm and dragged you above surface.

“What?” you spit at him.

He cocked his head to the end of the lake and when you turned your head you saw Newt’s figure walking closer, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. You immediately tried to stand up, but forgot you were too far out, and instead of touching the sand you sunk deeper in the water with a splutter. Again, you broke the surface with a gasp and a flail of your arms, struggling to wipe your hair out of your eyes. Minho was unsurprisingly unhelpful, barking out his laugh at your unfortunate. You glared at him and swam to the bank where Newt stood waiting. It was only then that you noticed a lot of the other boys were gone or also on their way from the lake.

“Smooth,” Newt commented when you reached him.

“Shut up.”

He nodded his head to the woods behind him. “Dinnertime’s soon. Reckoned I’d go get you.”

“I am honoured your lordship would bother thinking of little ol’ me,” you smiled. He only rolled his eyes.

Your steps brought you up further, the water splashing around your knees. Newt’s arms were crossed over his chest as he leant on one foot, waiting for you to reach him. You noticed that he adamantly kept his eyes fixated on a spot just above your head, refusing to glance at any part of your body that was currently on display. A part of you sparked with amusement. Minho stepped out just behind you and went over to retrieve your clothes, throwing your shirt and boots at you.

“Thanks,” you bit at him, just barely avoiding one hitting your head.

He flashed you with a smug smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, immediately causing wet spots to bloom wherever it touched his skin directly. “My pleasure,” he said and started walking back to the huts, through the now-dark forest.

The sun had settled quickly and long shadows now stretched before you as you turned to walk into the forest. Newt followed suit, staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Not going to put on your shirt?” he asked.

You turned your head to catch Newt’s gaze sweeping across your figure. It filled you with a strange satisfaction to see him checking you out. When he noticed that you’d caught him, he immediately looked away, his posture suddenly stiff. His cheeks were definitely redder than they had been before, although it was difficult to tell in the darkening light. Your lips tugged into something resembling a smile.

“Why? Does it bother you?”

Newt scoffed and met your gaze defiantly underneath his golden fringe. “No. I just don’t want your stupid arse to get sick.”

Your smile widened. “Oh, really? Do you happen to care for me, Newt?”

“I am not admitting that,” he said and rolled his eyes. His tone was suspiciously even, as if it took everything in him not to check you out again. “I’m only saying it’d be be more trouble than you’re worth to get you healthy again.”

His brown eyes met yours, obstructed with a few strands. You had the urge to reach out and pull them away, to see his eyes more clearly, but instead you sent him a simple smile and nudged him lightly with your elbow. “Okay, you have your priorities clear,” you said.

“Just go get ready, won’t you?” His glare was enough to send shivers down your spine and his hands started to turn your body in the direction of the huts, now already having reached the end of the woods. “See what I told you? You’re already getting cold!”

“Fine,” you drawled with your hands up in defence, looking at him over your shoulder. “I’ll see you at the bonfire.”

He lifted his hand in half a wave and swiftly turned away from you, walking to where the others had begun to gather by the fire. Sometimes you forgot he had hurt his leg—it had happened before you arrived in the Glade—but looking at him now his limp was evident in his step. You lingered a moment longer to watch his hair glow in the contrast from the fire, vaguely resembling the sun in an eclipse. You found the view almost poetic, entrancing you in its picturesque aestheticism. It reminded you of Icarus flying too close to the sun, you standing by, helpless to aid him in his downfall, inevitably and irrevocably fated to meet his doom. You weren’t sure where the thought or the name had come from, but ancient knowledge seemed to lord over you in a cloud of mystery.

“Go!” called Newt suddenly over his shoulder. He met your eye with a quirk of his brow and for a second his eyes seemed to draw you into the depths of his soul, but then you blinked and the feeling was gone.

“Going!” you jumped out of your daze to call back and quickly turned to make your way to the huts. How he had known you’d stayed put you didn’t know, but didn’t question further. You rushed to your cot to grab a change of clean clothes and a towel to dry off with, even though most of the water had already dried and cooled your skin with the night’s chill. Still, your hair hung heavy with water, wetting the new shirt you put on. You groaned as you tried to wipe it with the towel, but to no avail. The only downsides to having long hair was it took forever to dry. It would have to warm by the fire.

You changed into the warm pair of trousers and put on your boots. Still, your damp hair felt cold against your skin, which would have been nice if the temperature didn’t drop so suddenly as soon as the sun was gone. You hurried to the fire, the air enveloping you into its warm grasp, eyes already searching for the familiar blonde boy. A lot of the Gladers were milling about, eating the good food Frypan had cooked up or drinking some of the incredibly strong spirit you knew Newt fancied. Someone was laughing loudly nearby but you ignored it in favour of searching for the quiet spot you knew you would find him by. When your eyes settled on him, sitting on a log with a drink in his hand and a plate on his knee, your hand reflexively made its way to pull back your bangs from your eyes. Warmth settled in your stomach that was equally familiar.

“Don’t worry, you look good,” came Minho’s voice beside you. You shot him a glare and removed your fingers from your hair, still itching to pull it away. “Not that your ego needs the boost.”

“Not what I was concerned with,” you said. You swallowed. “But thanks.”

Minho grinned. Your lips lifted into an answering grin and Minho nudged you towards the fire. “Go get ‘em.”

You frowned at him, pretending not to understand what he meant, before shaking your head and walking towards where Newt was sitting. His gaze lifted as you approached and you felt your stomach flipping, not uncomfortably. 

“So, he can wear a shirt? Was starting to believe you weren’t capable of it,” said Newt, lowering his drink from his lips.

“Yeah,” you answered with a sheepish grin.

You sat down next to him on the log and reached over to nick a few pieces of his fruit. Newt immediately leant away, lifting the plate away from your reach.

“Woah--oi, hey! Don’t take my food! Get your bloody own from Frypan,” he grumbled, settling you with a glare. You recognised the glint in his eye though, the one that told you he wasn’t entirely serious. His eyes shone in the firelight, softening the longer you stayed quiet, and his lips even started to turn up. At the sight of it, yours did as well. He always knew how to bring out your mischievous side.

“Your food tastes much better.”

“It’s exactly the same.”

You shook your head. “No, by its mere proximity to you, the food is better.”

Newt rolled his eyes and placed his plate back on his knee, where your hand quickly snatched away the remainder of his fruit. He only sighed and took a long sip from his drink, pretending to ignore your staring at him. Finally, he lowered his glass and met your gaze with a sigh.

“What?” asked Newt, tone as flat as he could manage to make it in your presence.

Your lips tugged into a smile. “Nothing,” you said and glanced away.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Newt swiftly turn to you before you felt a nudge against your side, almost pushing you off balance. You cried out and reached towards him to stabilise yourself, sending him the harshest glare you could muster in spite of the laughter that was waiting in your throat. He met it with a glare of his own while ignoring your hands on his arm and shoulder, which suddenly felt too hot to the touch. Blood rushed to your cheeks.

“Nothing,” you repeated, avoiding his gaze. You were forced to let go of him with a clearing of your throat, conscious of your cold hands. You became too aware of your hair brushing your cheek, annoyingly tickling your skin. Before you could move, Newt’s hand had reached out to brush it away. Your breath hitched in your throat and you were unable to rip your eyes away from his.

“Sorry,” he said bashfully and withdrew it, curling it into an uncertain fist.

You smiled. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s getting too long,” you mumbled, your hands moving as if with a mind of their own to fiddle with the longer strands of your hair. 

“I could help you, you know?” spoke Newt, drawing your gaze to him. He seemed not to have noticed your flustered state or he chose to ignore it. You hoped it was the former.

You frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

His voice broke as he opened his mouth to speak, but he cleared his throat and nodded to your head.“I could help cut your hair.”

“Really?” you asked, surprise evident in your voice. You supposed cutting weeds while gardening got him familiar around shears. 

“I mean, yeah, sure,” said Newt. “Reckon I’d do a better job than anything you’d manage, anyway.”

Your head whipped to the side, mouth open in indignation. “That’s foul!”

His lips tugged into a grin and he lifted an eyebrow with the argument. “Am I wrong?” Your eyes swept over his own hair, which you assumed he’d cut himself, and pursed your lips in contemplation. It looked good. He looked good. Especially in that light, when the fire casted a golden aura that settled around his head like a halo. It effortlessly managed to draw your attention to every shift in his movement.

“No,” you finally grumbled, again tugging at a strand.

His hand reached out to tuck the stray strand of your hair away, and in doing so pushed away your own. The short moment of contact made your breath stutter and come out in a short burst. Newt met your gaze with a smile. It felt different than before, none of his usual amusement visible in his gaze. Instead, there now hung a heavy silence over the both of you, despite the loud chatter and laughter of those who had gathered by the fire. You were so close to him that you could count the lashes on his eyes. His gaze, which usually swirled with the pain and frustration that served as a reminder that Newt was capable of more than he let on, was now void of that. There was only curiosity and something softer that you couldn’t describe to be found. Newt must have felt your breath on his hand by now were it not for you holding it in anticipation. As if suddenly realising it, he blinked and leant away from you, his hand falling down at your side. Your breathing returned to normal as you tried to keep the warmth rushing to your cheeks at bay, trying in vain to ignore how close you two had just been. It was too dark for you to see if he was feeling the same way, or he was just too good at hiding it, but it didn’t keep you from scrutinising his face for any clues.

“Take a sick day tomorrow, meet me by the gardens,” he said after a few minutes of silently staring into the fire. His voice was level, as if he hadn’t been caressing your cheek only moments before.

You tried to match his nonchalance and arched an eyebrow. “Minho will murder me.”

Newt cocked his head. “Let that be on my head.”

“Fine,” you said and stood up with a groan, feeling the stretch of your muscles from the day’s run. Newt followed your movement, meeting your eye as you pointed an accusing finger at him. “On your head, be it.”

Newt nodded, sending a smirk your way. You stepped away from him and made your way to Frypan. As you grabbed a few sandwiches, Gally sneaked up by your side, swiping one of the sandwiches in your hand.

“Got tired of flirting, huh?” he chuckled.

You glared at him and bit into your sandwich. “Shut up.”

He smirked smugly. “It’s plain as day, Greeny.”

“You’re worse than Minho,” you grumbled. Your finger lifted to point in his direction. “And stop calling me that, I haven’t been Greeny for a year.”

His mocking laughter followed you as you walked away from the fire towards the huts, shaking your head. A few Gladers had followed your trail of thought, also deigning to go to bed early. You fell into your sleeping cot with your feet kicked up and a deep sigh escaping your lips. Your mind couldn’t keep from trailing back to the sight of Newt by the fire, his brown eyes shining along with his smug smirk. A groan fought through your throat as you rubbed your eyes in frustration.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Newt. On the contrary, you liked him a lot. He was kind and funny and witty and smart and always knew how to both make you laugh and trample on your nerves to get you furious with him. But you didn’t fancy him, no matter how much Minho and Gally liked to imply it. He just had a special way to worm his way into your thoughts and then burrow there. For days after an interaction, you would think of how he looked at you a certain way or how he would accidentally touch you while brushing past.

It drove you insane, how easily Newt could get inside your mind.

And how easily he could stir up the warmth inside your stomach and make it rush to your cheeks with only a simple gesture. You had found yourself trying to hide your cheeks when around him too often lately and you were sure he had noticed, but only given you the curtesy of not commenting on it.

“Fuck,” you groaned again and turned over in your cot, your hair prickling your skin with reminder of what tomorrow would bring.

It was difficult to distract your mind from Newt long enough to settle down. Eventually, you managed to fall into a restless sleep, filled with the muddled dreams of red sunlight bouncing off of bluish marble, almost creating the illusion of moving water. You saw the reflection of your form against the stone below you but before you had the chance to take it all in, a hand had clasped your own and another drawn you in by your waist. When you looked up, it was the face of none other than the person you had previously been trying to forget, although you could not fathom why at that moment. Newt. His warm smile calmed you down and you allowed him to lead you into the first steps of a waltz. How you had learnt it you didn’t question, but just followed his captivating eyes and trusted him to catch you if you fell. Those same eyes were gazing into yours, big and brown and with the same curiosity that had gazed on you earlier that day. Only now, you allowed yourself to get lost in the sight of them, to be entranced by their deep swirling darkness. Right when Newt had stretched his arm out and sent you into a light spin, and his hand was ready to welcome you back into his embrace, had his expression changed from one of bliss to one of chock and disgust. You halted, frowning at his actions, before following his line of sight and reaching a hand up to the top of your head. To your horror, all your hair had suddenly vanished. Panic rose through you, clawing blindly at your empty head, wanting to escape from this, from everything, from Newt’s hateful glance. You took a step and tried another but caught the only small imperfection in the marble that caused you to stumble, falling down, down, and down… waiting for the ground to hit you.

What came instead was a slap on your chin, harsh enough to force you awake.

“Ngh— fuck,” you croaked, blinking drowsily. Your vision cleared up as you squinted at your assailant, recognising the judging stare immediately. “Come on, man.”

The sun had barely come up again over the tall walls guarding the Glade when Minho had deigned to make you a visit. That time was usually when you would get ready for your run in the Maze. Apparently, Newt had not said anything to Minho which made you let out a deep groan. Minho was staring down at your messy form, his arms crossed over his chest with a harsh stare pinning you to your place. He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.

“Anyone tell you you’re an ugly sleeper?” he asked, a sickly sweet smile on his lips.

“No, I’m adorable,” you stated, trying to sit up as best as you could. “I’m taking a day off. I’m sick.” You punctuated your words with the best fake cough you could muster.

Minho looked unconvinced. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” you countered. When he raised an eyebrow you sighed in defeat. “Okay, I’m not sick. But I’m still taking a day off. If you want to argue, take it up with Newt. He’s got senior on you. And we both know you won’t miss me today.”

Minho’s breath released in a sharp burst as he contemplated your words. Finally, he let his arms fall to his side. “Fine,” he said, but raised a finger to point at you. “But you better have a damn good reason as to why you’re staying here today.”

You shot him a smile. “A damn good reason.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. “I will miss you, by the way,” he called over his shoulder. Then, he added, with a smug smirk, “Sweetheart.”

It was then your turn to roll your eyes as a bark of laughter forced itself out your throat. You rubbed your face from sleep, trying to get rid of your sluggishness. As you were already awake, you figured you could just as well get up to meet Newt a little earlier. It wouldn’t be long until the rest of the Gladers woke up, anyway.

Minho and the rest of the Runners were already by the Maze’s walls. You could see their figures in the distance as the gates started to open with a loud rumble, one that you could feel shaking the earth beneath your feet. You shook your head and stretched your limbs, feeling them pop and crack individually. Minho liked to be up and early with his runs, but you were glad to get a day off to rest. You turned to your things, changing into a clean pair of clothes and put your hair up, mostly out of autonomy. Last time you would do that for a while, you figured.

Newt’s cot was among one of the empty ones, so you assumed he would have already gone to Frypan’s station to get breakfast. You made your way over there, spotting his slumped figure immediately. He jumped when you dropped down beside him, nicking an apple from his plate.

“Could you maybe get your own food for once?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow. You smiled through your amusement, slowly chewing on the fruit. You swallowed with an exaggerated motion, sending him a sickly sweet smile.

“No,” you said. He rolled his eyes while taking a mouthful of his scrambled eggs, ignoring your presence in the process.

“Remind me again why I needed to take the whole day?” you asked. “Hopefully, Minho won’t feel as murder-y when he gets back later as how he felt this morning.”

You saw the corner of his lip lift into what you imagined to be a smile. Smug bastard.

“My art takes time,” he eventually answered, turning to you. “I want it to look good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I already look good.”

“And I want you to stay that way.” Newt shot a meaningful glance at the other Gladers, which had you wincing. Some of them could benefit from a more skilful haircut, you must admit.

“Fine.”

“Besides,” he said, “it’s easier when the sun is at its highest. Less chance for me to fuck it up then.”

Newt smiled at you, but his words indicated an underlying threat, one that had you smiling back in amusement. He really loved pushing your buttons. It didn’t help that you actually were concerned about your hair being fucked up—not that you would consider yourself a vain person, but you knew how much someone’s looks could be diminished because of a bad haircut. And your thoughts ran to the dream you’d had; was it a nightmare or a premonition?

You scratched your neck, conscious of the hair touching your skin. “You know what? I’m actually not so certain about this.”

Newt sighed and pinned his gaze on you. “I see you swatting your hair away all the time,” he said, exasperation shining through annoyance. “It’s clearly annoying you.”

His words made something in you flip. “Are you saying that you notice me all the time, then?” you asked with a smug smile, unable to keep your amusement at bay for long.

He ignored your question. “I’m not going to fuck it up, mate.” When you sent him a sceptical glare he sighed again, and asked, “What are you so afraid of? Don’t you trust my skills?”

Your lips tugged in earnest for a moment, before again settling into their smug familiarity. “I guess I’m just scared you’ll find me less attractive if I cut my hair.” You blinked through your eyelashes, meeting Newt’s incredulous gaze. “I mean, what if the whole reason you like me is because of my handsome hair?”

“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed, turning to look down at his plate.

“So you admit you do find me attractive?” you chuckled.

“Never said that.”

Your lips pressed into a line, wondering if you had crossed the line that time. It took a moment to decide before opening your mouth again. “Will you still help me?”

“Of course,” he smiled at you, winking playfully. The gesture made butterflies immediately appear in your stomach and you had to look away lest he see the smile gracing your lips. He stood up from his seat, leaving the rest of his breakfast untouched, and nudged your side. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Or would you rather we wait until I get tired and the light is bad for me to slip with my shears?”

He had a point, damn him. “Fine,” you admitted, following suit and going outside with him. The sun blinded the both of you, already high in the sky. It felt strange for it to be this bright out and not being in the maze running.

Newt started walking toward the garden so you followed point, close at his heel. He picked up a pair of dirty looking shears, turning to flash you a grin. You looked at them skeptically, which he must have noticed.

“Look, they’ll get the job done, alright?”

Your eyebrow cocked. “You sure? Looks like they haven’t worked since ten years ago.”

Newt laughed dryly and nudged past you, walking the way to the woods.

“Hey, where are you going?” you asked.

“The lake. Need to get your hair wet,” he called over his shoulder.

Hmm. Sounded reasonable. You ran to keep up with him and joined him by the lake you had been swimming in the day before. The water looked even more inviting now, with the sun glittering across its surface instead of the afternoon’s deep shadows. Newt, none too gently, shoved you in the direction of it, sitting himself down by the bank.

You flashed a smile to him. “That eager to see me shirtless again?”

He rolled his eyes and reached for the water to splash it up at you. You yelped and jumped out of reach, giving him a stare full of contempt. “Just dump your ‘ead in the water, you knob.”

“Since you asked so kindly.”

You lowered your body closer to the bank, only letting your head submerge under the water. It felt cold, but not uncomfortably so. You felt a tap against your shoulder, Newt, and sprang up into sitting position. Water dripped from your hair, drenching your shirt and face. When you turned to Newt, your smile was crooked.

“Great,” he said, moving to sit behind you, shears in his hands. “Now all you have to do is keep still. Think you can do that?”

“Anything for you, Newt.”

You sighed happily and leant back, letting the sun cast its warm rays over you. You didn’t notice the moment Newt hesitated after your words, before he started drawing his fingers through your hair. All you knew was that suddenly his touch was there and it felt heavenly. You knew he only did it to measure your hair to cut it, but every time his fingers brushed against your scalp shivers erupted across your spine. You almost had the mind to close your eyes and fall asleep right then and there, with Newt almost caressing you. You imagined those same fingers running down from your head, touching the skin over your neck, brushing past your abdomen and squeezing your thighs. Even the thought of it made your breath hitch and you kept still to keep him from noticing anything amiss. Slowly and carefully, he worked, cutting methodically. You cracked an eye open, trying to glance at him from the corner of it.

“How’s it going, Newt?” you asked.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled lightly, and said, “Don’t rush me.”

It was enough to make warmth travel to your cheeks and your abdomen, so you kept quiet after that and let him do his work in peace. His fingers danced closer to your skin then, trying to get to the nape of your neck and it took all your willpower not to shy away from him. Slowly, you relaxed into his hold again, numbed by the featherlight touches and breaths of air fanning over your skin when he sat too close.

And suddenly, it was all over. With one final brush of his hand, his fingers running through your hair thoroughly, he cleared his throat and moved away.

“All done,” said Newt, though it was almost a whisper.

You opened your eyes to the sight of him sitting on his folded knees and his fingers fidgeting with the shears, looking almost as if it took all his power to concentrate on his breathing. You smiled, raising an eyebrow, and ran your own hand through your hair. It felt lighter, and smooth, and you hadn’t realised how much of a relief it was to be gone with the length.

“How do I look?” you asked, meeting his eye.

“Good.”

“Better than before?”

Newt shrugged and stood up. “Good, like always.”

Your lips quirked into a mischievous smile. “You think I’m good looking?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffed, but you could definitely see a redness spreading across his cheeks. He tried to turn away but you were quicker, bounding closer to him and shaking away the cutaway strands in the same movement. It was fun teasing him.

“You’re the one who said it!” you exclaimed.

“Oi, stop being difficult,” he settled his glare on you.

“I’m not.”

He shot you a look, one that told you he was trying to stay annoyed but secretly enjoying your antics. “You are,” he said while turning in the way to the rest of the Glade, shears hanging loosely from his grip.

You ripped your gaze from his long fingers, the image of them making your mind return to how you had wanted him to touch you earlier, and instead ran to keep up with his steps. You could sense the smile hiding in the corner of his lip, almost like a sixth sense, determined to bring it out. So, eyebrows lifted in a suggestive expression, you saddled closer to his side and said, “But you like a challenge, right—so why are you complaining?”

The gaze Newt responded with could only be described as filled with disbelief, and something else—something mischievous. “So now you’re a challenge, hm?” he asked, his eyebrows disappearing behind the ruffles of his hair.

You frowned and tilted your head at him. “Hey! Are you calling me easy?”

“Well, if the haircut fits…” he trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence up to your active imagination.

“Now that’s just plain rude,” you muttered, lowering your gaze to the ground to avoid any missteps in the uncertain terrain of the Glade’s woods.

“I’m so very sorry, mate,” said Newt, without much conviction. You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic tone and noticed the flashing smile that was then all too visible on his face. “How can I make it up to you?”

“You can start by not calling me ‘mate’,” you retorted, not thinking through your words except to win this ‘argument’.

Newt glanced at you. “And what would you rather me call you?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze, while all too aware of what he was trying to get you to admit. But you were comfortable with the dance you and him were engaged in. It had been going on for so long that you had forgotten how to not do it with him. It was easier to keep dancing with him, to keep the illusion of a ballroom couple perfect rather than to quiet the orchestra and run from your Prince Charming. Newt seemed to sense where your thoughts had run to, as he tried to meet your gaze.

“You sure about that?” he asked sceptically.

“Er, yeah?”

Newt was way too good at reading you and would not believe any excuses you tried to make, however convincing they may be. You both despised and admired him for it. He stopped you in your tracks with a hand across your midriff; the feel of his fingers pressing against your skin, even through the shirt, made shivers travel down your spine. The hand quickly retreated as he tried searching your eyes.

“I—,” he started, voice unsteady. He cleared his throat to regain his composure as you waited for him, arms crossed, trying to keep up the charade any way you could. “I think you’d rather me call you ‘good looking’. Or ‘handsome’. Or ‘pretty’. Or what about ‘love’, hm?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth traveling up your neck to rush to your cheeks. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” he said, an eyebrow raised from the very obvious tremor in your voice.

“Are you teasing me, Newt?” you asked incredulously.

Newt flashed you a smug smile and shrugged, looking away bashfully. “Got to be my turn to do it sometime,” he said.

You were used to you teasing him and poking fun, but he always took it in stride and seldom flirted back—which was what this had somehow turned into. If you’d known you two would end up flirting because of him cutting your hair you never would have agreed to his help—or maybe you still would have. Either way, there was no escaping it now. Fuck it, you thought. A frustrated groan seethed through your pressed lips as you threw your hands up in exasperation.

“You know what? Fine,” you said, meeting Newt’s gaze defiantly. “Yes, I’d like to be called all of those things. And I would like to call you all of those things.” You paused to then search Newt’s gaze, but he just stared at you in stunned silence and made no attempt to answer, so you kept going, albeit slightly more hesitant. “I—I want to hold you, to touch you, embrace you in the way that simple friends shouldn’t do. I’d like to whisper into your ear at night how much you brighten my days and make this shucking life worth living. Most of all, I would like to call you mine.”

You paused again to inhale deeply, your breathing shallow after your rant. It had driven your emotions to the surface so well you might as well have been wearing your feelings on your sleeve, ready to hand out romantic professions for anyone bothering to glance your way.

You hadn’t noticed how warm your cheeks had suddenly gotten, and made to move away while muttering, “There—I’ve said it. Let’s just go.”

“Wait—no—” Newt shouted, throwing out his arm to grab your wrist.

He pulled you back into him, making you lose balance, and a moment later his lips had closed over yours. The surprised gasp that had escaped your lips was quieted by his kiss and you quickly melted into his embrace. Immediately, his fingers closed over your nape, taking hold of your now-short hair and drawing you even closer. You could feel him pressing himself closer in whatever way he could manage, one hand tugging at your hair and the other clawing at your waist. Each individual touch sent sparks of warmth and cold over your skin as your hands closed over his jaw and throat. Even your imagination couldn’t have predicted how he would feel, how his body would fit against yours and make you want to never breathe again if it meant you could stay with him, like this, forever.

Finally, you had to pull away to suck in a deep breath of air, Newt trailing after and barely letting you go. You couldn’t fight the chuckle that forced its way out nor the grin that spread over your lips. Neither could he, as you saw his blushing face break out in a beam and his eyes jumping all over your face. It made you painfully aware of yourself and you bowed your head to settle against the crook of his neck, bashful in spite of your close contact. His hands were still holding onto your waist and kept your body pressed against him.

“Don’t get shy now,” he chided, though his tone was light and his fingers were rubbing slow circles across your back.

Despite the warm sun that glared over the pair of you, his gesture made a shiver crawl up your spine and you pulled away to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “Really, you’re calling me shy?” He nodded to your question. “I’m shy when you’re here— Have you completely forgotten who’s always bold and teases and openly flirts with you?”

Newt scoffed, drawing his hands over the small of your back. “Well, maybe I stole your boldness when I kissed you.”

You almost couldn’t believe him. His cheeks were already flushed, but burned even brighter when your hand pressed against his neck to pull him in again, forcefully pressing your lips against his and claiming his tongue as yours. In doing so, you swallowed his surprised gasp with your kiss, but he didn’t manage to suppress the moan when you took his bottom lip between your teeth and bit lightly. It made you smile smugly, pulling away immediately to look upon his bright red face and dazed expression.

“Who’s shy now, hm?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping out of his hold.

Newt shot you an angry glance, but it was difficult to take him seriously when he was also blushing furiously. He decided to leave it at that and with not much dignity, pick up the shears he had dropped and started walking back towards the huts. Again, you had to run after him with laughter playing on your lips. You could tell he wasn’t really annoyed, but it was easy to slip back in the comfortable dance of your relationship.

You wouldn’t let him pretend like all of this had not happened, though. He looked at you in surprise when your hand sought out his own, fingers intertwining and closing over his. You smiled back, feeling a slight burning at the tip of your ears, but he leant in and placed a light kiss that made you wish for more again, which eased your nervousness.

“Guess we’re both a little shy, huh,” he remarked. You just shrugged, looking ahead to the opening of the forest, but the smile still apparent on your lips.

“And where the fuck have you two been?” cried Alby’s voice as soon as you stepped out of the trees.

Immediately, you felt as if you jumped out of your skin and let go of Newt’s hand, his cheeks burning as much as yours did. You scratched the back of your neck and glanced sheepishly at Newt, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes; neither of you could fight the smiles that broke out on both your faces.

“On your head be it, you said,” you smirked, slipping away from his indignant eyebrow raise.

You left Newt to deal with Alby alone with a playful wink, to which he only shook his head and hid his smile as he faced the approaching commander. You had half a mind to skip away with the happiness that were bubbling through you, but managed to contain yourself to walking away with a steady pace, though you couldn’t keep your thoughts from running back to the memory of Newt against you nor the smile that followed.

END NOTE ➢ I do have an idea for a part two should anyone be interested in it. Hope you enjoyed this!

[the-actual-ocean]

Hello! Ever wonder who does the ocean? That's us! While, technically, we aren't in direct contact with the people who are actually in charge of the ocean, we have assumed the role of keeping it interesting!

Blog, ask, and mod info below the cut!

We are not accepting applications for new mods. This is a personal group blog, and we feel more comfortable with people who have physically thrown one another into blood pits before. sorry.

// We are all minors! Thought I'd add this before the read more.

Feel free to send us asks about what to throw/edit into the ocean! You can simply send us an image or name in the ask box with signatures to specify what format you want the post to be in! they're right below this! and next to those signatures? examples!! of the posts!!

-[Chuck] "An image of a rock, please -[Chuck]." This will have the provided image or description being hastily edited to appear as though they are being thrown into the ocean, or perhaps off a dock!

-[Swim] "adam sandler -[Swim]." This will have the provided image or description being edited into the ocean, and maybe even included a school of said image or description. maybe.

look at him. so majestic in his natural habitat.

-[Amalgamation] "Dany Devito bigfin squid -[Amalgamation]" This will have the chosen subject be horribly amalgamated onto a sea creature or oceanic feature! they will be in extreme pain!

And, uh, just to let you know: there's like a 40% that any news networks suggested in the asks will instead be fed to sea slugs. Sorry.

Mod Info:

Hello! I'm the creator of the blog, and you can refer to me as Juno. You can discern my posts from the other mods through my boring, regular writing, and I'll probably be the only one not to swear. I go by he/him, and I will always take the chance to brag about how I got to make that one part of space, or how I have the most squids to my name. I'll also be able to be recognised with my tag, being #{J}.

hello i am the purple one. i called dibs on purple whilst we were coming up with the idea of this blog, so you will be able to recognise me by my colour and tag: #〔L〕. my name is Liv (i am the only one here who has not changed their name because i couldnt find anything that suited me) and i go by she/her, and ill probably mention penguins a lot. i know they dont live in the ocean, but they come here often so theyre like a family friend. i also like manatees, so they might get a few mentions from me, idk yet. im also probably recognisable through my lack of punctuation apart from commas and full stops, so do whatever you want with that information. i also actually spawned in the ocean, so despite my lack of qualification, im allowed to be here as its sort of a form of compensation for the mistake.

Hello. I'm salt, which for legal reasons is not my name but I'm not expanding on that. I'm not sure what happened. I got here by . I go by they/them. It'll probably b quite easy to distinguish me from the others as I use punctuation incorrectly or not at all nd shorten word that don't typically need to be shortened. Another way will probably be my dramatic response to references I understand. When I post, I'll use red and my tag will be #S♣. I also really like sharks. I love sharks. I'm not responsible for them, but I will take credit for them.

[red-riding-wood]

I’m so sorry about what happened to you and so many others. Disgusting misogynistic behavior. You all deserve so much better ):.

Also sending this bc I do believe he has made two new accounts. Drcranessweetestdoe and monsterfromthewoods. I have no proof these are him ,but it just strikes an absurd resemblance to his writing and he seemed to interact with both of them a few weeks ago. The first one hasn’t blogged in weeks either. Just seems strange. Once again though, I could be wrong. Just something for everyone to stay weary about. Stay safe ❤️

Thank you for the well wishes, anon! I really do appreciate you reaching out. <3

From my conversations with @drcranessweetestdoe, she does not behave like Kill (nor does her writing style compare to his), and I am pretty positive he is incapable (or at least very bad) at taking on different personalities since I believe I witnessed his attempt with the second account you mentioned. Aurora is very sweet, and she used to be a fan of Kill's writing and mine. I don't want people to be suspecting her of foul play because I do believe she is genuine. Kill has a pattern of reblogging fics as a way of seeing what victims he can latch onto and I see that as a coincidence with his reblog of Monster's.

As for @monsterfromthewoods... I was hesitant to make a callout, mainly because no one has actual solid proof that he is Kill. But, there is too much evidence for me to ignore, and I wanted to give my honest opinion and observations. Monster, if you are not this person, feel free to reach out and vouch for yourself, and if I am wrong, I am deeply sorry.

Fuck that. As I was typing this message up, I decided to check my DMs and noticed that my friend had said that he gave her the same name that, as of this morning, was revealed to me as his actual name along with his real picture and Facebook profile. That really sealed the deal for me. Here is the rest of my evidence to prove that this is "Kill":

Monster followed my friend around the same time that she blocked Kill.

Monster followed me the same day that I sent Kill a confrontational message, calling him out for his lies and pleading with him one last time for medical treatment and answers.

From the posts on Monster's account, and the one comment I know he made on my friend's post, his personality exactly fits Kill's. This is why I said I do not think he is capable or likely to be able to craft a believable persona.

Monster made a post about suicide, and a pro-Palestine post, the former of which Kill discussed with me a lot and the latter my friend pointed out as suspicious since Kill was also very strongly pro-Palestine. Seeing as Monster doesn't have that many posts yet on his blog, this isn't irrefutable evidence but it is very coincidental.

Lastly, I actually did my best to analyse and compare Kill and Monster's writing, since I had recalled a few things that stuck out to me when I read Kill's writing. Him and Monster share many similarities with their writing habits/consistencies. They are as follows (the examples listed are from 18+ content so please do not view if you are a minor):

Use periods and exclamation marks -- but never commas -- as punctuation to end dialogue tags.

Starter dialogue tag always facing outward. Like: ”So... Tight”

Tend to each use a snapshot style of writing, favouring incomplete sentences with frequent use of periods. Examples: K: "His mind, usually so sharp. Focused and organized like the most expensive machines. A killing machine, that worked in perpetual motion, living off killing, adrenaline used like a drug." M: "Your dear, understanding doctor. Doctor Jonathan Crane, who laughed out loud suddenly a couple moments ago. The dark colour covering his exotic looking eyes as he revealed his real nature to you."

Similarly, they both tend to avoid using possessive pronouns and determiners. Examples: K: "_ Pale, little pussy peaked from between her thighs." M: "The scars covering _ man's pale skin," _ = absence of "her, that, the," etc.

Often use adverbs after verbs in a way that feels out of place.

Capitalise after ellipses, always.

"Y/n" always has a lowercase "n".

Sometimes use three ellipses, often use only two.

Use "pants" but never "trousers".

Yeah, so, I may have spent way too much time on this. And I think most of this is redundant, now, especially after the name revelation, but still, I put work into it and didn't want it to go to complete waste lmao. I also had no idea until I was tagged today that apparently there are programs that do this sort of thing for you. Oops.

[stormbreaker101]

Making a Digital Visual Timeline (in Python)

I have been on the hunt for a digital timeline I could easily use to store pivotal dates on and see the distance between them, as well as keep track of which events are in which story. And ultimately, I couldn't find a single website that satisfied me, so I made my own program. And swag bitches don't gatekeep, so I'm sharing how I made my timeline, in case anyone is running into the same struggles.

All you need to get started is any sort of program where you can write in Python (I use Thonny but anything that runs Python 3.10 works), and then import the Matplotlib library. If you use Thonny, this video tutorial is super short and straightforward. If you use something else, no doubt there are other video tutorials on how to import libraries on your given platform.

Then, copy in this code, making sure not to miss any indents or capitalization. I wanted to copy-paste the code directly into the text, but Tumblr doesn't register indents, so you have to copy from an image, sorry.

If you run this code as is, you should get this scatterplot.

Under the cut is further explanation of the parts you can and should change in order to make the timeline your own.

The Dates in the square brackets [] on lines 9 and 14 are formatted as Year/Month/Day. So if I wanted to make a point on September 2, 2009, I'd write it as [2009, 9, 2]. Each date must be enclosed in its own square bracket and separated by a comma.

The captions on lines 10 and 15 can be whatever you want, just keep them in quotations, and keep each quote separated by a comma. I like writing the date on the caption as well just for ease of reading.

Importantly, the number of Dates in any group's DateList line has to be equal to the number of Captions in the Captions line, but there can be a different number of Dates and Captions between groups. (So like, Ex1's DateList and Captions both have 4 items, but Ex2's DateList and Captions both have 3 instead.)

The YVals on lines 11 and 16 can be any number (though keeping the numbers relatively low, like from -5 to 5, is better). These just determine how high or low the dots appear on the timeline, if you want to keep different plots visually separate.

There is a LOT of freedom of choice for colors (lines 12 and 17) in Matplotlib. I recommend using the CSS colors, because you just have to write the name in quotations.

You can make more than 2 groups, and you can change the names of the groups. But if you do, you have to also adjust this part of the code below:

Whatever you name your Ex1 and Ex2 lists, put them into here. Additionally, you have to keep the lists consistent. If for example, dateListList was [Ex1_DateList, Ex2_DateList] and CaptionsList was [Ex2_Captions, Ex1_Captions], the code will either encounter an error or graph the wrong captions to the wrong dates.

Lastly, you can edit what parts of the graph appears using these 2 lines to control the X-axis and Y-axis of the plots respectively. You have to keep both pairs of parentheses for each line.

These numbers are relatively small because I chose small numbers as the example Dates. When I use this code for myself, I often switch between a view of (1950, 2050) to see roughly everything in the modern era, or (400, 2400) if I want to see some of the older historical events I've included as well.

These are just the parameters you HAVE to adjust to actually control your own timeline. You can ABSOLUTELY do more if you want to (just make sure to save backups :P). And if you have any questions, feel free to ask!

Happy timelineing!

[stealingpotatoes]

HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW AHSOKA EPISODE IM SCREAMING

I HAVE and this is honestly the first week i've been actually invested in watching the next ep omg!!! they're doing interesting stuff!!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

THERE'S SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT OMG. first of all i have to say the late great ray stevenson/ baylan is absolutely the highlight of the show acting & character wise, there's so much depth he's putting into the character somehow like every line he says i'm shoving sabine and ahsoka aside like this is my new fave sorry lesbians. biggest cuntserve of the show

HOWEVER COMMA THE REASON I'M SO INVESTED IS BC IT'S SUCH A GREAT WRITING CHOICE TO HAVE SABINE GIVE INTO HER ATTACHMENTS AND JOIN THE THRAWN STANS TO GET EZRA BACK. YES!!! SHE WOULD!!! she isn't ready to let go of her attachments!!! she won't do as ahsoka says!! fuckin anakincore of her!!! willing to raze the galaxy for the last few parts of her family!! LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT TO SEE WHERE THIS GOES

Also I think the direction was a lot better? I'm shit at clocking how good fight scene direction is but there were a lot of scenes that just felt so much stronger than the prev eps? like when sabine puts the ball in baylan's hand they made you FEEL the weight of that moment with the pacing and camera and the sound design.

ACTUALLY THO THE FIGHT SCENES WERE A LOT BETTER THIS EP partly bc there was just. More to them? i liked how ahsoka dealt w marrok in 2 seconds basically indiana jones shooting the sword guy style bc that made the baylan/ahsoka fight SO MUCH MORE IMPACTFUL bc she's seriously trying and she's flipping and doing all this crazy stuff that makes you go shittttt these guys are super great jedi -- AND ALL WHILE trying to get the map so it wasnt just a "we're fighting bc we're fighting/ to not die" there was a very feasible objective on-hand to make the already great fight even better

and of course i have to talk abt That. i was poggin beyond belief when hayden showed up like LETS GOOOOOOO. and its super cool!!!!! but i do hope they do smthn interesting with this tho (I HAVE FAITH IN THIS SHOW AFTER THIS WEEK SO I'M HOPEFUL) and actually explore ahsoka and the super fuckedup complicated relationship she has w anakin/vader instead of going "ah its so nice to see you again!! im gonna ignore you murdered children and all our friends and tried to kill me etc etc bc people want to see us as friends!" like no i dont want that!! this should be her opportunity to work w the trauma they keep hinting at but not rlly exploring (ie w her taking on forceless sabine as a padawan or how she keeps acting like all that happened was she walked away from anakin and he didnt fall. it could be good writing for trauma) and have ahsoka like... accept the past accept what her master became and MAKE ME INVESTED IN THIS ITERATION OF THE CHARACTER. BC THERE HAS BEEN LIKE NO CHARACTER MOMENTS AND IT'S NOT HELPED BY THE ACTING/ WRITING!!

also did ezra yoinking her outta the world between worlds give her nine lives is she just gonna be able to walk out after dying again

[melancholysway]

Okay okay I know your ask is closed but this idea has been eating away at my for a week now

Alright so imagine the reader is a feline mutant, could be a house cat or a big cat mutant whatever you imagine, and they’re cuddling with their turtle and they start kneading, making bread, their paws into said turtle while they sleep. How would the boys react to that? Cause it just seems so cute, especially if the reader gets embarrassed by it.

preferably 2007 or Rise, cause I’ve also seen you mention your desire for 07 requests

I’ve read a bunch of your posts and I’m sure you can do my request wonderfully, now you make sure you take care of yourself and if this is too much for you right now I can wait ❤️💖

I JUST SAW THIS & I THINK THIS WAS THE BREAK I NEEDED BC HUH

Yes YES YES

If your request hasn’t been fulfilled yet, IM SORRY BRO IM TRYING FR FR😭I think I jumped at this bc it’s just a short shot & I literally have to mentally prepare myself to write a long shot

Also me using the same 4 gifs of the guys bc there’s barely any TMNT 2007 gifs 😫😫

TMNT 2007 Headcanons: Baking Biscuits (Cat Mutant!Reader)



Leonardo

This turtle loves every second of it

Tries to catch you all the time kneading, he’s infatuated with how normal cat habits fall onto you

How turtles have things like chitters(?) & mating season, he likes to see you have cat qualities

You knead the ends of his mask a lot

Cats sleep a lot, so I think you’d fall in between sleeping for a full 8 hours all the time no matter what

And once you wake up, Leo’s gone(in the event you stay the night or share a bed,) but he always leaves an extra blue mask for you to knead while he’s training or meditating

Like how turtles enjoy their shell to be scratched, you’ll definitely both have a set time where you just love on each other like that, where you just cuddle and scratch while he rubs your back

That’s so cute omfg wait I might’ve just did sum

Raphael

Won’t ever tell you, but he feels it while sleeping

So much so that he’ll have a dream of you kneading on or around him

We all know he’s a cat lover

Guys that love cats >>>

But anyway, he’s already fond over you and protective

Also I hc that he feeds the stray cats around the city & the best part is watching them make biscuits in an alley

So to see you do it is the cutest

Raph is a known heavy sleeper, so he doesn’t awaken that easily

HOWEVER (comma)

He would not mind it at all if he woke up to you trying to knead on his shell before he rolled over

Also if he does wake up, he’ll lay on his stomach for easy access to his shell for you

Also doesn’t tell you if he’s awake, he’ll wait a few just to hear you purr while baking those biscuits

Donatello

Donnie doesn’t sleep

However (comma) he wouldn’t mind it if you kneaded next to him while he was working on something

My cat usually kneads right next to me and buries their head on some part of my body, so if you do so, Donnie seriously doesn’t mind

In fact, he loves it! Just feeling you next to him is all he needs

Actually, since Donnie doesn’t sleep, I feel like he would take a cat nap (no pun intended) via bread kneading

He thinks of it as a nice massage. Although kneading is usually on a blanket or something, Donnie’s shoulders are free real estate for kneading

Michelangelo

He notices right away

He’s not a heavy sleeper idc RAPH is 😭NOT Mikey

He immediately does the lil head pat

Also likes to joke around about it

“Guys please stop ordering biscuits Y/n’s been baking for hours please they haven’t seen their family in weeks”

That line. All. The. Time.

Is definitely the most physical out of the four brothers

Meaning he’ll absentmindedly pet you or rub your back knowing you enjoy it as if you’re a non-mutant cat

If you get a little embarrassed (especially if done around his brothers or April/Casey,) Mikey would just switch and do it in private

But tbh he just wants to show off his cute s/o to everyone

Gifts you a (very fluffy) orange blanket of his exclusively for kneading and baking those nice loaves of bread

Since being a mutant feline, your nails will naturally be sharper than average, so he always (attempts to at least) stitch the blanket back up for you?

//

Taglist:

@bee-1n-space @ducky-died-inside

Masterlist

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

Sorry for being dumb, I'm literally terrible when it comes to social intelligence, so could you explain what is painful so I can avoid asking it?

Anon, you are very kind for reaching out, but I need you to understand that you are absolutely not the person I was targeting with that throw-away tag.

This? This is not for you.

You wanna know why?

Because you have one of these:

and also one of these

What I am referring you is not literally a painful topic.

I am referring to sentence soup the likes of which is incomprehensible by anyone except the person who wrote it.

I am referring to run-on sentences so long they stretch into a new topic of conversation without a single comma or a period in sight before being guillotined by a character limit

And look. This is not a callout. I understand that this isn't English class - this is tumblr. I don't care if you use the right 'your' vs 'you're'. It's casual. I don't care if you capitalize stuff. Y'all'd've been perfectly fine if you just kept it short and sweet as long as I understand it.

But therein lies the problem.

As long as I understand it.

Writing messages on the internet has a goal.

That goal is to communicate an idea to another person. To establish a peer-to-peer connection. To make yourself heard.

And although I respect you guys sticking it to the man and refusing to capitalize, and using casual speech and inventing fun new words like 'yeet'

You need to realize

that if you yeet your basic ass punctuation

you will also yeet

my ability to understand you

If the message I receive looks like this

hey just wanted to ask if you i thought maybe could u draw me pony big one could be playing together with a different one could you do it please i rly like your art would be paid or no its ok if no want to show u my stuff as well have a lot of art u could maybe like anyway the pony is blue if u still want

Then halfway through this mess I had to stop, start over, and re-read everything while muttering swear-words to myself.

Because this is not a message

This is just you shoving 3-5 sentences into a blender and throwing them at my head and giving ME the task of untangling it.

USE. PERIODS. BETWEEN SENTENCES. PLEASE.

If your teachers did not explain to you how to do this - I apologize. But periods are a pretty ubiquitous part most languages. This is not an EFL or ESL issue. This a big ole' F grade on the Theory of Mind Test.

I cannot read YOUR mind. We are not connected through an ethernet cable. You need to make an effort to make your ideas CLEAR. That means breaking up your separate sentences and using a question mark once in a blue moon.

THAT is what I mean when I say some of y'alls messages pain me.

I still love you all. I just need you to come in after class, because we need to do some one-on-one tutoring.

[mirjam-writes]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @suavissimapenna <3 Sorry it took so long!

How many works do you have on ao3?

7 for Sherlock and 23 Good Omens that are completely mine. 6 collaborative fics I have either partly written, or just made art for. So, 36.

What's your total ao3 word count?

380,863

What fandoms do you write for?

Good Omens! I used to write for Sherlock too, but that's now in the past.

Top five fics by kudos:

Truth Or Dare (E, 6.5K words), my first proper smut ever! Post s1 gettig together story.

Angel Of Justice (T, 9.5K), my first ever Good Omens fanfic. Post S1 from Michael POV, A/C as a background couple.

!False (It's funny because it's true) (E, 5.4k), an office romance human AU set in software company.

A Stable Relationship (E, 9.9k), horse rider AU with trans Aziraphale. Friends with benefits becoming a romantic relationship.

Girls Just Wanna Have Sun (G, 1.7k), outsider pov scene about Robin's day at the beach, where she meets two weird gentlemen who have never been to a beach before.

Do you respond to comments?

YES I DO! Slowly, possibly, but yes I do, and I read and reread them!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhh... angsty ending? What is that? Technically Be Still My Soul: The Rift, but does that count if it's a middle part of a trilogy? That's definitely my angstiest fic of all time BUT I tried to write the happiest ending possible to it. But also, yeah, people died in the war (just not A or C), so maybe I'll count that story.

Edit: WAIT NO! To Love Somebody, a story from Shadwell pov about how he fell in love both Aziraphale and Crowley, and how that changed him. That's sort of angsty and the ending is bittersweet!

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmmmmmm. I have so many. I can't compare. Maybe Watching You (Watching Me), it's the porniest porn i have ever written, and it has...uh... several happy endings :D

Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far!

Do you write smut?

Yessss. I'm in my porn writer era at the moment :D

Craziest crossover:

I did some super weird anime crossovers as a teen (I hope those are long lost) but haven't dabbled on that since apart from very vague blink-and-you-miss-it references.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

One of my Sherlock fics was translated into french in 2018!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Only for one round robin event, which produced four stories! Not sure if that really counts as collaborating since we weren't allowed to talk about it when we did it, we just got the fic, read it, and added 600 words and gave it to the next one! It was super fun though.

All time favorite ship?

Aziraphale and Crowley. No competition there.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't usually start posting unless I'm 100% confident I'll finish the story, so I don't have public wips.

I had one pretty cool Sherlock post-apocalypse story idea, which I'd love to talk about if someone is interested, but writing it? Hmm probably not. But it's not really a wip, if I have only like two bullets in a doc?

What are your writing strengths?

I think I write pretty good bickerflirting and humour even in dark situations. And, uh... historical research.

What are your writing weaknesses?

LONG ASS SENTENCES. I need to cut them down. Chop chop chop. Also, I over-use commas and em-dashes.

Also, not being a native english speaker, but I think I've got a lot more fluent during the past years, so maybe that's not my biggest weakness anymore.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I have done it myself, in a situation when my pov character wasn't supposed to understand what was being discussed, but I did only a couple of lines.

My languages (apart from english) are finnish, very rough swedish, and teeny tiny bit of german, but many fics I've read that have used another language in dialogue, use French or Spanish (which are popular languages for English speakers to learn in school!), and with those I'm woefully lost!

But honestly, i don't need to understand every fic under the sun! You do you, I bet there are people who can understand whichever languages you'd like to mix in your story, and that will be amazing for them!

First fandom you wrote in?

The Book Series That Must Not Be Named. I projected so much of my teenage angst into wizard school drama.

Favorite fic you've written?

You monster! Making me choose. Uh.

Okay, fair. It's easy. Be Still My Soul, hands down. @be-still-my-soul-fanfic

No pressure tagging: @hkblack, @ambrasue, @tawnyontumblr , @ack-emma and @zehwulf and anyone else who wants to answer!

[jihyocentric]

it’s honestly really funny to see the writing style progression of the anons here, recently i’ve noticed we’re all using a ton of commas but appropriately, using parathesis, and using minimal emojis

i think we’ve read so many of your drabbles lumi that we’re starting to write like you 😅, like writer like reader huh

SOMETIMES IT'S LIKE I'M ANSWERING MYSELF. it's funny... i keep wondering if you'll think i'm sending myself asks (not even sure if that's possible) but the writing style is just SO similar 😭 love it though! i also looove the anons who write in uppercase and use a lot of emojis because they give me more mature vibes (i'm sorry lowercase truthers like me. we have a lot to learn from them!)

fun fact: the commas are really hard to figure out how to use when i'm trying to 'think in english', because portuguese predominantly uses a TON of them. i think they're very pretty and even when it's optional i still use them, but i've seen so many english texts (mostly academic) without them or with the bare minimum! i might be messing up the syntax of english but idc using punctuation the way i learned it in portuguese makes my brain work better! especially when i use spaces before and after the em dash 🤓

[lordisitmine]

about the author

I saw this going around and decided to do it even though literally no one asked lmao

1 . How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I've been writing short stories and developing characters since I was about eight years old, but when I was twelve or thirteen I was really into the Teen Titans animated series, and I wrote a story about an OC I had made (meant to be a self-insert) and Robin being in love. I had NO IDEA it was a thing other people did or that it was called fanfiction but looking back that's definitely what it was.

And then two or so years later, I was introduced to fanfiction through a friend and Tumblr and all of that. And you can bet as soon as I realised this was a thing I could do with any number of characters, and that I had a knack for it, I was INSTANTLY on it like white on rice.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

As far as my posted fics on AO3, eleven fandoms. But it's probably more like fifteen? Sixteen? There are stories I've taken down and ones I wrote for friends back in the day for fandoms I was never even in.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

If you count the infamous self-insertxRobin story (that I have since lost the file for, which is devastating), about sixteen years. If you don't count that, then about thirteen years. I'm almost thirty years old so... that's about half of my lifetime now.... *wheezes*

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I read WAY more than I write because writing takes effort and reading does not! Also, reading fanfiction is a great way for me to get in the head-space to write, so it's actually part of my process, in a roundabout way.

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

Just one? Oh boy. Honestly, just proper sentence structure: e.g. "Using commas instead of periods at the end of quotations ->, <-" they said. And using fewer em dashes and italics, (thought not that many fewer oop). And shortening my sentences, not allowing them to go on and on forever. I feel that a lot of writing just comes naturally to me, and I do it so much that any improvement in voice and tone has just happened gradually, so it's hard to pin down. But I've improved in those ways too for sure, just by virtue of doing the thing repeatedly for many years.

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I cannot even think of one that is remotely weird. I'm sorry to say I don't write a lot of truly weird things- I write alternate canon/canon divergence fics, so I'm never in the wild AU territory. Stuff like undergarments in the Victorian era and how long certain wounds take to heal are about as weird as it gets for me. I did look up the shelf life of jarred pickles for a fic, once. But again, that isn't really weird at all by any stretch of the imagination.

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love all my comments equally. I really do especially like it when people tell me their favourite specific scenes or lines, and kind of do commentary on what they were thinking/feeling while reading, as wel as guess/predict what's going to happen next. But again, even if a comment is simply "<3" or "AAAA", it brightens my day immensely. You should always send a comment if you can, authors need them to live.

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Again, literally nothing I write about is really that fringe to begin with, so it's hard to answer this question. I guess if you want to count the intricacies of Faustian bargains as I head-canon them to work, and like, made-up occult rituals and blood magic, then sure, that's probably the most fringe thing I write about, I guess.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Anything that doesn't ultimately have a happy ending! Major character death! I cannot even conceive of how I would force myself to write those things!! I am a softy of the Highest Order who needs happy endings in my things! I do not enjoy tragedy, I do not fuck with main character death/permanent break-ups! If it happens in canon I will literally be the first one writing a fix-it. I've done it before, and I will do it again!

10. What is the easiest type?

Case-fic. Give me a character solving a mystery any day. I love committing fictional murder and then sending the blorbos off to find the fictional bad guys. It's the easiest thing in the world for me to come up with a conspiracy and a plot to take over the world and then have the protags come in and fuck shit up for the villains. I love it to death. It's my bread and butter.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

I write anywhere and everywhere. At home (at my desk, on the couch, in bed), at the library, in the waiting room at the doctor's office. I use Microsoft word on my PC, my laptop, and my phone. I stopped using Google docs because of data scraping for AI and the fact they're beginning to censor explicit content, which is insane, it's people's private docs, fuck off! honestly, Microsoft probably isn't any better but it's what I'm used to so I'm kind of stuck with it, at least for the time being.

I do a lot of writing by hand! Like, a LOT. I always have, since I started writing as a kid when I didn't have access to my own private computer (the 2000s were a different time). I love it very dearly and have a whole bin of notebooks under my bed full of drafts and things. I get complemented on my penmanship a lot, and that's why, lmao.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I've been in fandom a long time, and I was never into A/B/O. No judgment, I just didn't get the appeal. But that changed about six or seven months ago, and now I think I'd like to try my hand at writing it, having read a bunch of it now and have a better idea of how it works/what the rules and tropes are. I'm kind of obsessed with it, honestly.

13. What made you choose your username?

Way back in the distant, dark time of 2013, when I sat down to make an ff.net (remember fanfiction.net?) account, I was deep in my Supernatural phase. And reader, I was what we used to call a Sam Girl. And at the time, one of my favourite songs that reminded me of Sam Winchester was Lord Is It Mine by the band Supertramp. The rest is history.

I tag any writer who sees this and wants to do it!

[sleeplessv0id]

Hi Zero!! I have three questions for you from my sleep deprived brain before I'm now finally going to bed:

Do you ever feel like you shouldn't make a piece of art/write something, because it's "too cliche" or "not artistic enough"?

Do you prefer to write really long sentences with lots of commas, or short sentences whenever possible (may depend upon genre)?

And do you have a neutral moment in your life that you think back to often?

(For example, I was at my friend's house once and I was talking about how I was always trying to make my assignments fun for me to write, and she asked me "Does everything have to be fun?", and for whatever reason, I think about that a lot.)

I like your blog, and I hope you have an amazing day :))

hello nemusnail! thank you for the ask, and welcome to my blog. It's fun interacting with others on here.

as for your questions!!

-

1. I have, and still do struggle with the following.

but think of it this way, you're reading fanfiction, and think of your favorite trope. slow burn? that's too vague. what if you wanted a college AU where your favorite ship first meet in the library. one a part-time librarian at work. when the other approaches them and asks where to locate a certain textbook. holding out their hand, they had the book code penned in ink on their palm. and it turns out the librarian was holding the book the other was in search of.

only to dig everywhere to find nothing of the like.

so, in truth, whether it be writing or other artistic mediums, there is no way to be, 'too cliche' or the like. because at the end of the day, you're creating for you. not for the public eye.

(unless you go about sharing your work).

I journal, and for years, and I mean years, I never wrote to the full extent of what I was feeling because what if someone read my journal? would they think I'm interesting enough?

so, at the end of the day, create for yourself. art is a reflection of the soul.

-

2. I tend to write really long sentences with lots of commas. but short can also hold a great deal of weight. I often use shorter sentences when I'm writing, say, a character pleading for their life.

truly does depend on the genre and what's happening in the scene.

-

3. I'm unsure if I am interpreting what you mean by 'neutral moment' wrongly. I'm thinking of it like, when someone says something to you that makes everything, even time, seemingly stop. not for others, but it stopped for you.

but this is what I thought of.

my past isn't the best. a lot of shit went down and still goes down to this day. but there was this one moment in particular.

on my page, you'd see I vent about various things. I had recently gotten out of a foster home, I had exposed the s@ all 3 of my cousins put me through and how manipulative my aunt is, my attempt to escape my house. all it is is reminders, and I can't heal if I'm constantly surrounded by reminders.

but that's not the moment. I was spending my first weekend back home up at my grandma mother's with my guy friend, who she took in as a foster cause he had nowhere and he turned 18 in just months.

I don't remember exactly how it all was cause I genuinely was losing it. but my grandma said something while talking to me, something about me having made up 'all those lies'.

fast forward through a breakdown, my grandma came into the living room, I was crying; obviously. and my guy friend was going off on her. she eventually turned her attention back to me and told me to look her in the eyes and say it was all true. she said something about how then she'll believe me.

I still can't believe I fell for that. 💀

I did as she said. she looked into my eyes and said she didn't believe me. there's more to it, but that was the moment I thought of. my love for her died that night, and I still vividly remember how this cool calm washed over me. It felt like I disconnected.

sorry if the last one is a little dark.. I easily misinterpret things, and this is the closest to what i thought a neutral moment.

[rayless-reblogs]

For the author ask game, 5 and/or 11?

5: How do you know when a story is "done"?

Hm, that's a good one... I've often started projects without a strict outline, but I don't think I've ever gone into a long project not knowing how it ends. But that's not quite what the question is.

Even if you know exactly how things are ending, there's still the question of "When have I written enough?" And I definitely have trouble with endings! Like I said last week or so, I want a story to have closure, but I never want it to feel too pat. Having an ending too wrapped up and perfect feels very artificial to me, and I enjoy some elements of ambivalence and ambiguity even as things close -- this issue wasn't resolved ideally, this thing could still happen, A was solved but B was a byproduct of it. The fanfic-writer in me likes the idea of fairly open endings, because that gives the reader room to speculate and put their own interpretation on events.

I think for me, the ending comes when I feel like the mood is right. Obviously I need to clear up everything the story requires to be cleared up, but after that I want to make sure the tone feels right, then I can hopefully land on a memorable closing line and make my exit.

With Eola, the most recent book, I struggled with its ending for literal years. I wasn't sure what was bothering me about it except that in some vague way, I didn't know if it was enough. Without outside help, it can be hard for an author to figure out if a feeling like this is a real problem, or is it the usual creative angst of your work not living up to the unattainable ideal you saw in your head? Unfortunately, there's no measuring cup you can pour your story into to make sure all the measurements are right.

I remember talking about it to a friend whose writing sense I really trust, and they reminded me about climaxes and how somewhere, whatever's happening, the protagonist needs a moment of choice and agency. Looking back over Eola's climax, I realized I hadn't done that, meaning that not only was my protagonist's arc weaker, the climax didn't offer much catharsis, so overall there wasn't a very strong sense of the story even ending. So I went back to the climax and beefed it up.

When it came to Eola's epilogue, I'd rewritten it many times. I'd added and subtracted details, but never entirely changed the ending itself, and I'd always felt discontented with it. But because I went back a step and improved the climax, it improved the ending too. Which made me feel better about setting it down and saying, "Okay, this is done."

So the best I can say is -- it's done when it feels done? That's not useful, I know. Someone needs to invent that measuring cup. The mathematical side of writing the ending is making sure you've covered all the narrative beats you want to. But the non-mathematical, emotional side is ending when it feels right.

11: What punctuation do you love too much?

This is embarrassingly easy. The long hyphen, the em dash. I don't know why it started, or exactly when, but I do remember one of my high school teachers remarking to me, "I liked hyphens a lot at your age too." Well, I'm sorry, Mrs M, but I'm not that age anymore and I'm still drowning in hyphens. I'm making a conscious choice not to use any at this exact moment, but they fly in like darts most of the time.

I think part of it is that the em dash feels more expressive than a comma. If I write, "The Boxer heard a sound behind him, the evil pitterpat of Asher's cat," that works fine dramatically. The comma provides an adequate dramatic pause as you read. But ninety-nine times out of a hundred, I'm going to write, "The Boxer heard a sound behind him -- the evil pitterpat of Asher's cat." For me, it simultaneously pauses the reader for that dramatic beat and rushes them along, adding tension and energy.

And that's fine as far as it goes. But it goes too far. I will also throw that em dash into dialogue, and character descriptions, and onto the ends of paragraphs, and if I'm feeling really saucy, onto the front of paragraphs.

Reading my stuff over, I start to feel ridiculous. There's always a stage where I go through and try to kill as many em dashes as I can stand, making them boring little commas (ugh) or breaking lines into shorter sentences/fragments. Anything to stop there from being an Overdramatic Em Dash in literally every paragraph.

Maybe I haven't actually answered the question. Maybe I don't love the em dash. Maybe it's my greatest enemy.

Thanks for the asks!

Meme here.

[mightys12]

How me write good?

Well, if you’re asking for writing advice, I might not be the best person to ask but I’ll do all I can!

The most important thing to improving at writing is just practicing a bunch. You don’t have to be good, you just have to try. This is gonna sound like a little strange advice, but one of your best bets is to find a larger fandom. I started out in the BNHA fandom, and because there were so many molds to fit into and so many people reading, posting and commenting it had a lot of benefits. Notably, if your primary catalyst to keep writing is comments/kudos, a big fandom helps to keep that up while you learn to write for fun (gradual process, some people never really do and that’s also fine). But just writing over and over and over again will make you improve. If you don’t want to put out low quality work on your main, take the time to make an alt and pump out lots and lots of content.

While you’re making that lots of content, try to go basic in terms of improving your writing. Look up short videos on the Oxford comma, read your writing aloud and figure out where you’re missing commas, toy around with your writing to figure out where periods should replace commas, watch videos on dashes, or take a look at how semicolons are used. These short videos aren’t about a sharp guide on how to write. Writing is something with a lot of style and unique ways to convey your voice with writing. Depending on the media you consume, that will alter how you write as well. Use these not to force yourself to write in a certain way, but to become familiar with the tools in your toolbox. Learn punctuation so you have a useful wrench to piece together what you want to convey.

Another useful thing is to step back and read your own story from a readers perspective. What are they missing that they need to know? What might’ve been a little unclear? What misconceptions could arise? Scatter the answers to the questions throughout your text - avoid large lore drops and characters monologuing where you can.

Something notable is character interactions. If you have two characters interacting, you have to remember to keep their “voice” in mind when piecing together their respective bits of dialogue. Are these characters strong-willed? They’ll look for a disagreement with each other, then, most likely. Is one more meek compared to the other? He might be a bit of a pushover. Their “voices” are influenced by their circumstances, too. Even meek characters gain stronger voices when surrounded by people they know care for them. Strong-willed characters may back off in situations where they feel uncomfortable, or they might press forward being inconsiderate. Remember, if you struggle with these “voices” the “OOC (XYZ)” is your best friend : p

Find someone who enjoys your work. This is a later step. Once you’ve gotten the basics down, written enough to improve your general abilities and understand your toolbox well enough a great step to take is find a beta reader. Someone interested in what you want to write. I lucked out with an amazing beta reader in the form of @bluginkgo who I cannot appreciate enough (sorry for the tag!). They helped me make leaps and bounds in my writing, and once you have an established enough ability to write, a beta reader is a great next step to elevate your writing in the short and long term.

Finally, read. You pick up tricks steadily whether it be from reading good fanfiction or reading high quality literature. You learn to watch out for issues you find a little gross on the eyes. Things like repetitive word use, not enough action included in dialogue (even something as simple as making a character scratch the bridge of their nose), or the plot becoming unclear all become easier to identify as a writer by seeing others mistakes and successes from the lens of a reader.