#i swore i was going to stay away from writing advice tumblr this time around

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You can analyze your favourite writers' techniques. You all know that right?

When you read a book or fic or whatever and are blown away by how amazing the writing is you can just go, "huh, how is the writer doing this? what things are they doing to get this effect?"

And if you can't figure it out you are allowed to google it. Check out YouTube videos, blog posts, and the wealth of posts on Tumblr even. If the writer is famous enough there might even be full-length academic papers on Google Scholar or JSTOR, or even 100+ page published books dissecting their style (Tolkien, for example, if you like his style). If you still can't find the information, ask someone. Ask more experienced writers or writers who write in a similar style. Ask writing advice blogs/channels. Ask the writer/author themselves.

And if you still can't figure it out, you can keep trying things and reading similar stuff, observing until it clicks.

I just say this because, well, reading someone else's writing and feeling like yours is horrible in comparison is pretty much a universal writer experience. I see a lot a posts on Tumblr offering encouragement like, "it is okay if you writing isn't like theirs, you just have different strengths," and "actually your writing is better than you think it is, you've just been staring at it too long." And these are valid.

But also, just because you can't write like that now doesn't mean you can't learn. You don't have to resign yourself to a particular style just because it comes easier to you. It is completely okay to be happy with the style you have, but it is also okay to not be happy with it and wish you could write like your favourite writers instead.

Just... when you get that, "oh my gosh, I will never be as good as them," feeling, maybe try figuring out what it is they are doing that you like so much. Maybe being patient with yourself doesn't mean accepting that this is your best work. Maybe it means accepting that this isn't and that it will take time, knowledge, and practice to get there. But you will, you just have to keep trying.

[squarebracket-trickster]

Since we're talking about second drafts -

"When you get to your second draft do yourself a favour and rewrite it completely. Trust me. You'll hate me now but you'll be thanking me later. Rewrite it. Don't even look at your first draft. If it's important it will stick."

I really tried to follow this advice. It didn't work for me.

By the time I started my second draft (a year after finishing draft 1) I had forgotten so much about the story that if I didn't look at my first draft wouldn't be starting with a draft, I'd be back in the planning/outlining stage.

Staring at a blank document trying to come up with the right words all over again was unnecessary stress and a waste of time. I was happy enough with my first draft. Why fix what ain't broke?

My getting-words-on-the-page process is messy. I word vomit, I ramble, I overwrite. I don't add description unless it's important to the plot. I don't edit unless my writing would be completely incomprehensible to future me otherwise. I type as fast as I can. If I started over I'd have a second draft of the exact same shit quality as my first. Maybe the pacing would be a little better. Maybe there would be less inconsistency. But there's no guarantee of that. How much would I really have to show for all that effort?

Going into my second draft with specific goals for revision is what worked in the end. I wanted to: trim my word count by 32 000 words, fix the plot holes, fix macro pacing issues like scenes where nothing interesting happens, change the ending, and make sure things are properly foreshadowed.

That I could do. It broke it down, made it far less overwhelming than "rewrite everything" and it saved me time. I'm on my third draft now, more than two years after I started my first. My writing has grown a lot in that time but I still stand by my decision not to rewrite. The story didn't need it. I don't see any decisions I could have made different on a rewrite that would have made my story so much better than what I have now.

So find what works for you. If rewriting works all the power to you! But don't feel like you are limiting yourself by not doing it. Rewriting won't magically improve your writing. Any revision needs to be done with intention.

This is your permission to not rewrite. Especially if it's making you avoid touching your draft all together.

[squarebracket-trickster]

Okay, sometimes advice that is good for a first draft does not work for later drafts.

Like, these are all things people have directly told me when I was talking about problems I was having in my 2nd and 3rd drafts.

Don't edit as you go. The whole point of later drafts is to make edits to the first draft...

You're spending too much time on this one section. Leave it and come back later. I uhhh... I did leave it. I left it and wrote my whole novel multiple times without touching it. Now is later.

Take a break. The inspiration will come. Actually, I don't need inspiration. I have written this entire novel multiple times. I think I have enough inspiration by now. What I need to do is problem solve. That means actively thinking about it, isolating the problem, brainstorming, and trying things. If I waited for inspiration I could be waiting years.

If you are struggling with the POV try changing it. Great advice if you can't seem to finish your first draft. Not so great if you have finished your novel and are just stuck editing a couple of paragraphs. Troubleshooting those paragraphs may take a while but I promise it is less work than rewriting the entire novel in a different POV. Besides, different stories work best in different POVs.

It doesn't have to be perfect. Yeah, uhhh, again, ever heard of the editing stage? Like okay, there are such things as impossible standards, but identifying a problem and trying to fix it is like, a normal part of writing...

Don't ever delete your writing. How else am I supposed to make cuts and edits??? I promise, my first draft (where I deleted nothing) is an untouched file saved in three different places and when I make edits I copy and paste sections into a new document. It's not gone forever. But be realistic. Most of that word vomit is not going to make it into the final manuscript. Believe it or not you do have to kill a few darlings in order for a book to be its best self.

Just write the dialogue. So uhhh... all the dialogue is already written. That's what a first draft is for. Maybe good advice for rewrites but uhhh... there does come a point when you have to write the rest of it.

And yeah...

Sometimes the only way out is through. Sometimes problem solving requires beating life into a dead horse. Sometimes inspiration isn't enough. Sometimes its not just okay but necessary to admit something isn't perfect and that it needs fixing. Sometimes its okay to struggle and be frustrated and that doesn't mean you should take a break. Sometimes there isn't a quick hack, change one thing, that will fix the problem. Sometimes writing is hard and there is no way around it. Takes breaks when you are tired yes, but if you're stuck for too long, I'm sorry but at some point you're going to have to face the problem and get yourself unstuck. You can't keep waiting for the problem to fix itself. It's not going to be fun though.

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I know this is the absolute most random post to make this connection on but it also reminds of the common criticism of Avatar: the Last Airbender that Ozai was not an interesting villain.

You see, I saw a YouTube video essay once talking about how, no, Ozai actually is a pretty interesting villain if you change your perspective. Don't look at him through Aang's eyes, he barely has any screen time with Aang. But you know who does spend a lot of time with Ozai? Whose lives are completely shaped by the terror of surviving this man's manipulations? Azula, and, even more obviously, Zuko.

Of course, these are the two actually interesting villains that carry the antagonist department of the show. It would be a pretty boring conflict if it was just Zhao, Ozai, and some other random Fire Nation guys.

Ozai is a great villain when you look at him from Zuko's perspective, and from the perspective of the impact he has on Zuko and Azula.

So my point is, I think sometimes we look for the antagonist in the wrong places. Like, criticize Sauron and Ozai all you want but the fact is, the conflicts in both A:tLA and LotR work anyways. Which means there much be a compelling antagonist somewhere. Something is creating interesting conflict. And whether you are analyzing a piece of media for analysis' sake or whether you are trying to learn how conflict works so you can write your own stuff, being able to identify what is actually making the conflict compelling is kind of important.

Like, the thing you think is the obvious antagonist or conflict might actually be just a side effect.

Hello I’m here to talk about an opinion that isn’t so much unpopular because people don’t like it, but because it is splitting hairs and basically an argument based in semantics that sane people reasonably do not waste their time caring about it.

I am neither sane nor reasonable and therefore think about this a lot, and get ready to pull out a soapbox and type the Text Wall of China any time I hear people offhandedly contradict this opinion, and so I have come here today to die on this molehill, and write the over-long post of my dreams, because fuck it, it’s my blog.

Drumroll please:

Sauron is not The Lord of the Rings

The Lord of the Rings is the main antagonist though, so furthermore,

Sauron is not the main antagonist of The Lord of the Rings

I internally go insane every time someone says “Sauron, the eponymous Lord of the Rings” or “The antagonist never actually appears in Lord of the Rings” or uses Lord of the Rings as an penultimate example of having a flat ‘evil for evil’s sake’ villain. This is mostly in YouTube videos so I’m not calling out anyone here.

So who is the Lord of the Rings? Where do I get this shit? Why should anyone care?

I will tell you in far too much detail under this cut, because I told you I was gonna be extra about it and this is already long enough to inflict on my followers without their consent.

First and foremost, Frodo is not the Lord of the Rings either. Let’s get that out of the way. Gandalf explicitly tells us that in Many Meetings (the first chapter in Rivendell in Fellowship), when Pippin greets a newly awakened Frodo with quintessential Fool of a Took™️ swagger.

‘Hurray!’ cried Pippin, springing up. ‘Here is our noble cousin! Make way for Frodo, Lord of the Ring!’

‘Hush!’ Said Gandalf from the shadows at the back of the porch. ‘Evil things do not come into this valley; but all the same we should not name them. The Lord of the Ring is not Frodo, but the master of the Dark Tower of Mordor, whose power is again stretching out over the world! We are sitting in a fortress. Outside it is getting dark.’

So that’s my theory busted right off the bat! Gandalf straight up tells us the Lord of the Ring is Sauron (‘the master of the Dark Tower of Mordor’ which is Sauron).

But I already told you, this is a hair-splitting semantics-based theory! He said Sauron was the Lord of the Ring. Not the Lord of the RingS. Yes, this whole theory revolves around a single letter difference between the title of the series and Gandalf’s statement, WHAT OF IT?

But in all seriousness. Tolkien was a linguist. There was no way this choice was not deliberate, not on something so important to the narrative. And there is a very important difference between what he is referring to when he uses ‘The Ring” singular, and “The Rings” plural. The Ring that Frodo carried to Mordor has it’s singular nature highly emphasized by the language that surrounds it. THE definite article Ring, the ONE Ring. Just the One. Singular Singular Singular.

The Rings (plural) refers to the rings of power which Celebrimbor wrought, with Sauron’s help, but Sauron is objectively not the Lord of those rings. Not the three Elven ones at least, which he never touched and only suspects the location of. Without his One Ring he has no power over the Three, and a big problem with him regaining his Ring is that he would gain power over those rings, the ringbearers, and the safe realms that had been wrought with them, basically crippling those with the power to resist him.

Him NOT having the Ring, and therefore NOT having lordship over all the rings, is a pretty major plot point. Like, it’s not a reach to say Sauron not having the Ring is what drives the entire story. And he is NOT the Lord of the Rings without it.

And he never gains it, so is the whole series named after Sauron’s aspirations, that the main characters are trying to prevent? I mean, from an angle yes. But also no.

Because while Pippin and Gandalf’s exchange is the closest we come in the text to seeing the title, let me show you the only place within the covers that “The Lord of the Rings” is presented, at least in my beat up third hand 70’s edition. It may not be formatted like this in other editions, but I still think it says something about how we are supposed to read the title:

[Image ID: Masking tape can clearly be seen holding together my poor abused copy of Fellowship, open to the title page. THE LORD OF THE RINGS is written across the top of the page in all caps, directly below it is the Ring Poem, as if The Lord of the Rings is a the title not only of the series but of the poem. /.End ID]

The One Ring is the Lord of the Rings, not Sauron, who is the Lord of the Ring.

“What?” Say imaginary naysayers in my head, “How can a Ring be a Lord? And why does this matter, if Sauron is the Lord of the Ring, doesn’t that make him the Lord of the Rings by proxy? Why are you wasting your and my time making an argument about this?”

I’m glad you asked imaginary naysayer, let me speak to your first point. How can a ring be a Lord? Well, like any good first time speechwriter, I’ve turned to Miriam Webster, and asked it to define a word we already know, in this case ‘lord.’

[Image ID: Screenshot of the Miriam Webster definition of ‘lord.’ The ones that are relevant are 1: One having power and authority over others. 1a: A ruler by hereditary right or preeminence to whom service and obedience are due. And 1f: One that has achieved mastery or that exercises leadership or great power in some area /.End ID]

In the poem, it is the Ring that is spoken of as ruling, not Sauron. Sauron is actually listed in the same position as all the others who receive rings, “The Dark Lord on his Dark Throne” occupying the same place in the sentence structure as the “the Elven-kings under the sky” and “the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone” and “Mortal Men doomed to die.” It is the One Ring, not Sauron, who rules them all, fulfilling our first definition “A ruler by hereditary right or preeminence.” In this case it would be by right of preeminence, or superiority. The One Ring outclasses the other rings and thus dominates them, binding them to obedience and service. Gandalf calls it “the Master-Ring” when it is first revealed for what it is in Bag-End with the words appearing from the flame.

The Ring has it’s own will too. It’s repeatedly stated to be in control of Gollum when Gandalf is first telling us about it. I’m literally so spoiled for quotes about this that I was paralyzed with indecisiveness over what to use but let’s keep it simple with this one. It’s from Gandalf explaining why Gollum didn’t have the Ring allowing Bilbo to come upon it in the chapter “Shadows of the Past” from Fellowship:

‘It was not Gollum, Frodo, but the Ring itself that decided things. The Ring left him.’

So if Sauron is the Lord of the Ring, and the Ring is the Lord of the Rings, isn’t he Lord of the Rings by proxy? Yes, when he has the Ring. But also being the ruler of a lord doesn’t make the title of that lord your title, if that makes sense. People don’t call Aragorn the Prince of Ithilien, that’s Faramir’s title, Aragorn is King of the Reunited Kingdoms, he rules Ithilien, sure, but by proxy. Ithilien reports to Faramir who reports to Aragorn (I should be calling him Elessar since I’m talking about him as king, but whatever). If Aragorn lost the ability to contact Faramir or Ithilian, he would still theoretically be king there but he would have no practical control, just like Sauron with the Rings of Power.

Why does this matter? It mostly doesn’t. It does not change anything practically in the story at all.

But it matters to me, because it might help change perspective on the antagonist of LotR. It’s the Ring. Sauron is a force in the world, one the Ring is closely allied with, and from whom many of the obstacles come, but the entity that our protagonist is really fighting on every page is the Ring.

If Gandalf were the main character, or Aragorn, or almost anyone else on Middle Earth, Sauron would be the Primary Antagonist. But they are not. Frodo is the Primary Protagonist, and his struggle is NOT against Sauron, it is against the Ring.

If destroying the Ring had not destroyed Sauron, would Frodo have kept fighting in this war? NO! He had his task, and once it was done he was done, even if the world ended afterwards. Everything is driven by the Ring. The threat to the Shire comes from the presence of the Ring, so Frodo takes the Ring to Rivendell. The danger of the Ring is not neutralized by it being brought to Rivendell, so he continues his journey to destroy it once and for all. He doesn’t fight Sauron, he fights the Ring. He fights with himself to keep going in spite of the despair it levels on him, the poisonous words it whispers in his ear, the physical toll it takes on his body. He fights Boromir and Sam (not to the extent he does in the movie, but still a bit) and Gollum over the Ring. He negotiates with Faramir over the Ring.

And the Ring is SUCH a more interesting and nuanced villain to struggle with than Sauron. Sauron is representative of a force in the world. He controls events but never appears, because he acts as the source of all evil, it’s representation on earth (at least now Melkor is in the Void), but it is far more interesting to watch the effect he has on others than deal directly with a character that is so obviously in the wrong in every way. Making Sauron a physical character in LotR is like making the Devil a present character in basically any piece of media that deals with evil.

Evil at its purest isn’t that interesting, because it contains no conflict. Leaving Sauron as an offscreen player leaves us to see characters that are not pure evil struggle with that conflict.

The fascinating thing about the Ring is that it has no power outside of what you give it. But given enough time even the best people, like Frodo, will end up losing themselves to it, as it whispers in your ear with your own voice.

I want to go ballistic when people point to LotR and say it has a one dimensional villain. EVERYONE’S OWN VIOLENCE, DESPAIR AND THIRST FOR POWER IS THE VILLAIN OF LORD OF THE RINGS! Brought to the fore by a small unassuming golden trinket which just happens to also be the titular Lord of the Rings.

Honestly “The Ring is the Villain of LotR change my mind” should be its own big long post with lots of quotes and shit, the fact that the Ring is The Lord of the Rings just being a small point in it.

But unless you are a specific type of interested in story structure and stuff none of this is at all meaningful and it really, really doesn’t matter, so I’m gonna go.

Thanks for coming with me on this dumb journey.

[sunsetpatterson]

Puppy Love

A/N: Here I am!! Back at it with the writing challenge fics. This one's for @whyistomholland, finally giving me a reason to write that Stark!Reader AU in my head!! That being said, this is a Holland!Peter fic.

Attempt number 2 at posting the whole fucking fic. Don't mess it up, Tumblr.

Summary: After asking permission, Peter makes a confession to the girl he loves.

Pairing: Peter Parker × Fem!Stark!Reader

"Peter, you're a good kid. I like you," Tony stood from his seat in his lab and stepped toward the younger boy, his eyes narrowed. He felt his protective-ness twitch in his chest. "But if you hurt my daughter, I will do something much worse than take your suit away. You got it?"

Peter gulped and nodded quickly. "Y-yes, sir. Of... of course, Mr. Stark." He wrung his hands together, nervous sweat making them slippery. "N-no hurting Y/N - not... not that I intend to, of course. I just-"

Tony huffed a sigh and flopped back into his spinny chair, flicking his hand toward the door. "Stop babbling. Tell her you love her."

"Yes, sir! Thank you!" The grin on his face was hard to miss as he spun on his heel and darted out of Tony's lab.

With the speed he was going at, let's just thank Valhalla he had shoes on - otherwise he would've smacked straight into the adjacent wall.

Peter skidded to a stop outside the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the doors to open. "FRIDAY? Where's Y/N?"

"Miss. Stark is currently studying in her room, Mr. Parker. Might I suggest you do the same?" The Irish twinge of the AI answered almost instantaneously.

The seventeen year old boy rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly, leaning against the wall of the elevator after stepping inside. "Yeah, later. Can you take me to her, please?"

FRIDAY never responded, but he knew she had listened the moment the button for the number of Y/N's floor lit up with a yellow-ish glow.

Peter felt his heart threaten to beat out of his chest, thudding violently against his rib cage. His hands shook and his thoughts began to run fifty miles a minute.

What if she didn't love him back?

What if she didn't even think of him like that?

What if he told her and she hated him forever?

Oh God, what if he ruined their friendship forever?? He loved Ned, but he couldn't spend the rest of his days building and rebuilding the Lego Death Star.

"Mr. Parker, I am detecting a panic attack. Might I suggest going to see Doctor Cho?"

Peter's head snapped up to the ceiling as he took in a shaky breath - only just realising that, yes, he was in fact having a panic attack.

But, nevertheless, he shook his head and wiped his hands on his jeans. "What? N-no, FRIDAY, I'm good." He mumbled and spent the rest of the ride chewing his lip nervously.

The doors opened to reveal Y/N's floor. Peter looked up like a deer caught in headlights, blinking for a few seconds before taking a hesitant step out of the elevator. Before he could even think of backing out, the doors closed and the elevator took off.

"Okay, come on, Peter. You can do this." He mumbled to himself as he all but tip toed to her room door. "Worst case scenario, she hates you forever and you die a lonely old man."

Peter's eyebrows knitted together not seconds after, and he found himself wanting to laugh at how pathetic he sounded. "Pull yourself together, Parker."

The moment he raised his hand, the door swung open. Y/N sat on her bed, her hair unruly and clad in one of her father's old band shirts, surrounded by books.

Peter found himself wanting to curse FRIDAY for not giving him more time to gather his courage.

But all that flew out of the window when she looked up at him, dimples indenting her cheeks as the biggest grin grew on her lips. "Pete, hi! You gonna stand out there all day?"

"Uh, yeah. I was thinking about it." Peter wanted to slap himself.

Y/N laughed and shook her head affectionately, her eyes going back to her book. "Well until you come in, FRIDAY's keeping my door open." Her voice was soft and riddled with sleep, and it occurred to Peter that she hadn't been awake long.

Her dark hair was messy, her eyes tired and her face completely void of makeup - which he knew she didn't need.

But God, she never looked more beautiful in his eyes.

Peter wrung his hands together and quietly walked into her room. His feet padded along her carpeted floor before he sat on the end of her bed. "There's, uh... there's actually something I wanted to ask you."

Her eyes snapped up from her books and she found the pace of her heart slowly increasing in speed. "Ask away."

"I need some advice... girl advice. I-I mean, you're a girl so I though it'd be best to come to you instead of Ned." He laughed nervously.

Y/N felt her smile falter at his words and she swallowed thickly. "Right, yeah. I guess Ned probably doesn't know much about girls." She joked lightly, but her eyes didn't reflect the emotion she tried to fake for his sake.

"There's, um... there's this girl at school," Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. "I've known her for a really long time, a-and it's recently occurred to me that I may be in love with her."

Her eyes went wide, her mind immediately going to Liz Allan. It made sense, really. Liz was the prettiest and most popular girl in school.

"O-oh. You're- you're in love with her?" Peter only nodded in response. "And I'm guessing you want me to help you find a way to tell her." It wasn't a question, but Peter nodded anyway. "Just tell her."

Peter looked at Y/N, his eyes as wide as saucers as he registered her words. "I-I'm sorry? I thought you said just tell her."

Y/N rolled her eyes and gave him a soft, but sad, smile. "Pete, you're an amazing person. Don't laugh at me, it's true!" She scolded as he rolled his eyes with a scoff. "You're amazing, sweet, kind and the most selfless person I know. She'd be an idiot not to be in love with you. Why make a big deal out of it when you can just... tell her?"

As he sat there, he mulled over her words. Deep down, he knew she was right.

Making a big deal out of it wasn't important, but the message he was trying to convey was. Peter knew Y/N didn't really need a grand gesture when he could just tell her how he felt about her.

Tony would be disappointed, not being able to help. But if she was happy, who was he to argue?

Peter suddenly grinned, taking her by surprise as he wrapped his arms around her before standing up. "Thanks! You're the best, Y/N!" Without another word, he walked out of her room, leaving her alone.

Y/N sighed and bit her lip, tears pricking her eyes. At that moment, she swore she never disliked Liz more - but she couldn't protest if it meant Peter was happy. That's all that mattered to her.

The door closed after Peter left, and he stood in the same spot where he started. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt a little light headed as he tried to find the words to say.

It was approximately five minutes after he left, that he knocked on her door. He had only five seconds to calm his nerves before the door swung open, revealing Y/N's shocked face.

"P-peter? Did you, uh... did you leave something behind?" Her voice was quiet, but her he heard her perfectly.

Peter chewed on his lip, his dark eyes sweeping over her face as if he tried to commit every part of her to his memory. God, he loved everything about her. He'd be crazy if he didn't.

"Y-yeah, I did." He stepped closer to her, her wide eyes looking up at him before they dropped to his lips.

Y/N drew in a sharp breath, too afraid to let it go as her hand lingered on her door handle. "I-I could go get it for you..."

"Or you could stay and let me kiss you." Peter murmured, too in the moment to ask himself where in hell that sudden surge of confidence came from. "I really want to kiss you."

Peter lifted a hand, brushing his knuckles over the smooth skin of her cheek. He felt her skin heat up under his touch before he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

It was the most cliché move in the book, but he remembered she somehow loved all the cliché stuff.

Lost in the intensity of his eyes, Y/N had to force herself to remember how to breathe, otherwise she knew she'd faint from a lack of oxygen. "O-okay."

Peter didn't know he was leaning in until his nose brushed hers, and by then he knew it was too late to stop. "I love you, Y/N." He murmured and closed his eyes before kissing her.

The kiss wasn't short and sweet like he was aiming for. Hell, he wasn't even expecting to kiss her when he knocked on her door. The kiss was long, breathtaking, and full of emotion he now knew wasn't unrequited.

Y/N was putting just as much effort into the kiss, her sweaty hands gripping the front of his shirt as she pulled him closer to her. It was like all of a sudden she didn't need air to breathe, because she had him.

He didn't want Liz, he wanted her. Nothing but love blossomed in her chest at that moment. Y/N was in bliss, and she didn't want it to stop.

Unfortunately, they were human. To live, they required oxygen.

Their chests rose and fell in sync, eyes remaining shut as their foreheads pressed together. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the front of his shirt, and his hands rested on her hips.

"If it wasn't clear, I love you too." She breathed out.

Peter huffed a laugh, his eyes screwed shut as he snaked his arms around her waist, holding her tight as she laid her head on his chest. "You made it painfully obvious." He mumbled and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

For the next few minutes, they stayed like that - until their moment was interrupted by FRIDAY, at the command of none other than Anthony Edward Stark.

"Miss. Stark, your father has requested that I remind you that while he is happy for your recent change in relationship status, you still have to study for your chemistry exam."

Y/N groaned and buried her face in his chest, though she was unable to hide her smile when she felt his laughter.

"Mr. Parker, Mr. Stark says that he is happy for you to stay and study with Miss. Stark, and he is formally inviting you to dinner with the Avengers."

Peter tightened his grip on her, pulling her impossibly closer as they stood in her door way.

"That's my dad for you, always looking to ruin people's moment." Y/N teased, knowing fully well that Tony could hear her.

"Mr. Stark has more to say, but I refuse to play messenger."

Y/N giggled before peeling herself from Peter's chest. His arms slipped from her waist and his hand fell perfectly into one of hers, fingers intertwining as she led him back into her room.

"So, what do you say, Mr. Parker? You wanna study with me and eat dinner with the Avengers?" Peter grinned at the teasing glint in her eyes and kicked her bedroom door shut behind him.

"Might as well."

[always-bleh]

Rant

Gonna rant a bit where the people in my life can’t see what I write. So me and my friend had always had a wierd awkward on and off relationship. We try and we’re seeing each other and I want to be serious where everyone knows and she doesn’t. It goes on and I’m in love with it I’ve loved this woman for years so this is something I always want. Well she’s always talking to another guy at the same time while doing things with me. She never does the number one thing I want when this happens. Talk to me. No I always have to find things out in the worst possible ways catching the act. I told her this always happens can we try actually talking to me instead of lying? She says no. So the last time this happened I tried to honestly get along and be okay and be her best friend still. Well the guy at the time decided no... I don’t like him(me). We still tried to be our best friend selves. That didn’t go well. I was blown off constantly before she had started seeing this guy me and her had talked about moving out together and dating of course. Well I didn’t work out but she took our plan threw away what we had talked about having a family and future. Turned around didn’t bother to tell me she was moving in with him instead and gave him everything I had ever wanted. I still tried to be friends but at some point enough is enough. The guy clearly didn’t want me around it was hurting her and hurting me too. So I asked for me and her to meet privately. That didn’t happen no no of course not. We had to rub salt in the wounds and she brought him. I said screw it I brought my best friend Bro with me. For one purpose to help keep my temper in check and not to start swinging. He said he didn’t like me how I talk with her and how I was trying to be with her from messages he had read. These messages were months upon months old. He said she had talked to me and she looks and says yeah I told you. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She told me NOTHING! She left me to figure it all out on my own in the worst ways imaginable. My Bro knew all this and just looked at me I was able to keep it calm and cool thankfully. I told her okay you said your part. I had given her a necklace I wanted back. Native American enchanted with blessings necklace and the debt she owed me for helping her out when her husband left her with an apartment she cant afford and car payments. I see no problem with me wanting those back and the deal was made and we split. I’d contact only concerning the debt and I got the necklace back the next day. Well... Mr. right in everyway she could see... left her... We hadn’t spoken in almost a year. She reached out to me 3am at night. He hadn’t left her quite yet but the process was beginning. So my best friend who I did very much still love and was still my best friend came to me. Crying at 3am about the guy she left me for and wanting someone to listen to her. As a best friend of course I would be there... but at the same time it is a cruel punishment I gave her advice and eventually started laughing. She dropped me off back home and left smiling and feeling better. Me... I had finally started being happy and it all came crashing back down all the pain everything. I broke into so many pieces again. I left wanting my friend to be nothing but happy and for my own good so I could be happy. Me and my bro were going to move out into an apartment. I was broken I just wanted the money she owed me and started contacting her more frequently. I wanted nothing more to connect us together no reasons to contact. I just needed that debt paid and gone so I could move on. We got in a fight of course money always leads to fights. Me and my bro moved out we were in our apartment. I wanted to put our fight on pause and asked her to come out and see the apartment. She wouldn’t even come to the door to come out with me. My best friend who could come crying at anytime to me wouldn’t do the same and come out for me to talk and just have fun as friends. Month or so went by I hated it. I made a letter and dropped it off at her parents. Funny part her mom let me in and we started talking she knew we were rocky and she knew it was breaking me. As I’m getting ready to leave she says she should be home soon... I thought she was living with her boyfriend Mr. Right still. And she walked through the door and saw me. We went outside and talked calmly. I gave her the letter and my bye pretty much I didn’t care about our debt anymore. I wanted to be happy which I was... I had moved out with my bro and his fiance. This was my first place and I was getting my life together talking to other women again just... happy. She started texting me again. I swore I would always be there for her anytime. I still hold true to that but I wasn’t going to fall back and start wanting her agai and if she wanted to be back in my life she was going to be the one making that effort not me. She did and we were back to best friends while her and the boyfriend worked through things. He didn’t know I was back in her life... least i don’t think he did. I remember she was going through something and said hope she was having a good day. I get a text back saying. “Thanks I will let her know.” I just let it slide. I saw it as bait into a fight and I left it. But I know for damn sure he read everything about how me and her wre talking. Not flirting but seeing how much we missed each other. Looking back that probably played a huge part in the break up. Life went on no problem popped up surprisingly. She hit me up one day wanted something big to do. I remember her wanting to go somewhere in Nevada I suggested that. And we went early morning. Went around did our thing had a blast. Even gave her the blessed necklace back since we went on a ghost tour. We’re very spiritual and believe in that kind of stuff and the necklace serves as a form of protection. On the way back home... she tells me it’s her one year anniversary with her boyfriend... She was excited to do something with him but I guess he told her he was sick and she gave up on doing something with him. She told me I wasn’t a second choice or anything like that she just wanted her best friend and something to do to forget. We had been drinking before we came home and sobered up. Something about the ghost tour left her feeling something horrible. I had native american stuff at home to bless and protect us. I offered her to stay the night. Which she did and we shared a bed. Of course my feelings had come back from the hiatus. And I asked... do you want to have sex? She said yeah we could have sex. So many thoughts in my mind running... A dream scenario guy who was left can have sex with the woman he loves and hurt the guy she had left him for. Hell could even hurt the woman who had left him too. I turned it down. There is always a right and wrong way to get what you want. I actually do feel bad about this still and asking her that. But she didn’t have to say yes... she could have left... like I believe a loyal girlfriend who’s in love would... Shortly after this those two broke up. She hated living at home and I had offered my apartment. She was already constantly coming and staying the night for days and sometimes a whole week at a time. She moved in and we shared my room... of course something started! We were happy and the cycle began again. I got unhappy she was talking to a guy told me just a friend. I warned her something would happen. My bro and his fiance got married and moved me and her moved back with my mom. Seperate rooms and we had stopped our thing. Which brings us to the now. That guy I warned her she would start something with... that warning was eight months ago. She had thought long and hard about moving in with me and my mom. Before she moved in she asked if she could have guys who she was doing things with over I told her no I wouldn’t be okay. At that time eight months ago she agreed to the deal not to. Apparently that deal meant nothing. In fact she asked me again. I’ve met the new guy don’t care about him and naturally hate him. One because I knew this was coming. Two I had warned her about this guy months ago and was essencially called paranoid and crazy I don’t feel so fucking crazy considering guess what he’s a thing now with her. Three she went behind my back and asked my mom instead and it was a secret apparently he was already coming over while I’m gone without my knowledge. Which leads us to the now... I am not fucking happy... every single deal ever made broken... time and time and time again all for the fucking same gawd damn mother fucking reason! Because of a guy. The difference now I get the home edition of misery. She tells me I’ll just tell you when he comes and you don’t have to be here. My own fucking home has become my fucking hell hole I don’t even want to live here anymore. I can’t even come home now at times because he’s over. I can’t come to my own fucking home. This is going to be fun I’m at odds with literally my mom for keeping the secret and her. I told her to go take the guy to go be cleansed. Native American thing the necklace I gave her yes it is good juju whatever you want to call it. But if the giver is disrespected in anyway like that it turns for the very worse and causes harm instead. I can’t talk to our best friends because guess what they’re her friends too. Can’t talk to my family she’s around them. Can’t talk to her she doesn’t want to hear anything from me. So I rant here. Where no one I know can hear me but I can still have the satisfaction that I have spoken and everything is off my chest. Well she’s leaving tonight after this fight that just happened today to go on a vacation back to Nevada. Going to be gone five days... lets see what happens. I’ll add this for anyone reading this vacation was planned long before this fight today so it’s not like she left for vacation because of our fight. Thank you for existing tumblr so that I can fucking rant in peace without anyone getting butt hurt. Not her, my family, her family or our friends! 

[thethingwewrite]

War Game (part 2)

Summary: Things are moving forward with Dean knowing who you are. How exactly will everything go after that night?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3992

Warning: Angst, anxiety, thought of ending the pain.

Square Filled: Free Space (social pressure/need to be the way someone want you to be)(not sure if it’s good)

A/N: Hey guys, here is part 2 of War Game. It will be part of the SPNANGSBINGO; the third part too, I am not sure for the other part though. I will let you know in time and need. I hope you guys would enjoy this, let me know how you feel about that by giving me feedback. Thanks to @mrswhozeewhatsis and @aingealcethlenn for betaing this fic. For some reason the gif tumblr doesnt want to work so i had to found the gif on google.

Tag:  @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, @dr-dean, @helvonasche, @wevegotworktodo, @thorne93, @aprofoundbondwithdean, @faith-in-dean, @roxy-davenport,  @fangirl1802, @percywinchester27,  @bloodysideofhell, @girl-next-door-writes, @kittenofdoomage, @supernatural-jackles, @mysupernaturalfics, @izawrites,  @jelly-beans-and-gstrings , @ariannnawinchester, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @jensen-jarpad, @secretlyfurrydragon, @bloodysideofhell,  @wonderfulworldofwinchester

SPN TAG SHEET :  @thinkwritexpress-official , @itsemmyb , @ezauraemmaline, @charliesbackbitches, @deandoesthingstome, @deerlululucy, @walkingencyclopediaoffandom , @gryffindorable713 ,  @manawhaat, @growleytria, @thegleegeneration, @samtomydeanwinchester , @supermoonpanda , @sis-tafics , @amaranthinecastiel @becs-bunker , @meganwinchester1999 , @samanddeanwinchester67 , @ferferelli, @iridianuniverse , @the-morning-star-falls , @ackleslaugh , @fangirling-instead-of-working , @hellbentcrowley @eyes-of-a-disney-princess , @kayteonline ,  @spnsimpleman,  @mamaimpala @for-the-love-of-dean , @winchesterfiesta ,  @salvachester, @sleep-silent-angel,  @gadreelsforbiddenfruit , @trenchcoats-and-bees , @curliesallovertheplace, @jencharlan ,  @skybinx-blog,

Masterpost fic

SPNANSGTBINGO Masterpost

Back to the present day

(Y/N) POV

Your heartbeat raced against your ribcage while many thoughts rushed through your mind. You made an effort to remain calm, tried not to show him you were scared. “Sam… Sam, he isn’t dead. Dan took him to have leverage on you,” you said.

Dean glared at you. “Where is he?!“ he barked, pressing his gun against your temple.

You swallowed hard. “Or what? You’ll kill me! Do you really believe you would be able to save him alone?”

“Sam is my brother. Nothing will stop me from saving him,“ he simply answered.

You scoffed. “Dan is a dangerous man. If you are a threat to him, he will be the only one taking care of you and your brother.”

An evil grin appeared on Dean’s lips. “Sister, you don’t know me,” he asserted, unlocking the safety. “So I’ll give you three seconds to talk.” He nudged the gun pressed against your head. "1…2…”

Three weeks ago: Morning after sex

You’d been up for a little while, now, busy making breakfast while wearing Dean’s shirt with a black bra and matching underwear. The music and cooking had your full attention, so you didn’t hear him walk in the room until he coughed. You turned to see him standing against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His expression told you that he was battling with himself at the sight of you.

He sighed. “Mind giving me my shirt back?”

“A little. What else would I wear?” you chuckled.

Dean shrugged. “I am sure you will figure something out.”

You grinned and turned off the stove. “Really? What’s the rush, Hunter, afraid of a little witch?” you teased, grabbing the pan, then putting the eggs and bacon on two plates.

Dean barely glanced at the plate before raising an eyebrow at the nickname you gave him. “Well, little witch, I have a job to do.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Hunters, always in a never-ending job,” you said, grabbing the plates. “Well, as you can see I made breakfast, but I guess if you have to…” your voice trailed off.

Dean narrowed his eyes, unsure if he was supposed to trust you. “You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

You scoffed. “Really? Who do you think I am? A Gypsy?”

Dean pushed his plate toward you. “How about you eat my plate first?” he suggested.

“Boy you really have trust issues,” you said, somewhat amused by his behavior. It didn’t bother you and you knew why. You didn’t trust him either, so you thought of something as you took a bite of the food. “See no…” You started to cough falling down holding your throat.

Dean widened his eyes and rapidly came towards you. “Hey (Y/N)! Hold on I got you!” He looked panicked as he started to look for a hex bag all over the kitchen.

“De… Dean,” you called him, almost like a whisper, and extended your hand to him.

Dean stopped in his tracks, glanced back at you before quickly coming toward you. He kneeled next to you and held your hand, “I’m here sweetheart. I need to find it,” he said, concern written all over his face. He tried to move, but you gripped his hand.

“Ple… Please stay,” you said with difficulties.

Dean sighed, but nodded, not liking that he had to watch you die without helping.

“K… Kiss me.”

Dean rubbed his face and leaned down to kiss your lips gently. His lips touched yours and you pulled him into a deep and rough kiss. Dean frowned and pulled away, glaring at you while you stood up chuckling.

“You should have seen your face!” You laughed, imitating his panicked reaction, which only made you laugh more.

Dean stood up and took his shirt off of you. “You are a bitch. You shouldn’t take this lightly.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I am a witch,“ you pointed out, crossing your arms. “No one is that stupid to go after me.”

“You should stop being one,” he said putting his shirt on. “It’s a warning,” he said firmly.

“Or What? What are you going to do about it?” you asked, stepping closer to him. However immediately stepping back because of the glare he sent you. If his eyes could kill a witch, you would be dead by now. This didn’t make you feel comfortable, somehow. You didn’t expect that coming from him.

Dean shook his head and started to walk out of the kitchen, but stopped at the door. He turned to face you, “Did you know Keith Scott?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I did. Why?” You leaned against the counter.

Dean rubbed his face. “Any chance you know who is behind his death?” Dean asked.

You shook your head. “No I don’t. But I have a little advice for you. Stop looking into Keith’s death. Nothing good will come of it. Especially not for you.”

Dean frowned. “Sorry sweetheart. Can’t do that given what I am,” he said. “I hope, for your own good, that you are not involved.” With a sad smile, he grabbed his things and walked out of the apartment.

You pressed your lips together. Once you were sure Dean was gone, you grabbed your phone and dialed Dan’s number. You had to wait a few seconds before he answered the call.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) Morris!” said a rough and upset voice.

You froze, cold sweats forming on your back. You knew you somewhat screwed up in a way, but you didn’t know what you had done this time. “Huh Dan, you sound upset,” you said, suddenly nervous.

“What gave it away?” he said. You swore you could hear his eyes roll, “Do you know the definition of discretion (Y/N)?”

The sweat slid down your back. You knew Dan’s approach too well; he was trying to punish you, to make you realize your mistake in the worst way possible. You were just glad you weren’t in front of him because his humiliations were painful to live through. “Ehm. Yeah, I do.”

“Do you? Then why did Nathan come to me last night? Blaming me for sending you?!”

“Sir… De… the hunter was at your garage. I…I was just doing my job.”

Dan scoffed. “This sounds like you did more than your job. Come to the office. There are few things we need to fix,” he said before hanging up the phone.

You were left there hearing the end call signal on the phone. You put the phone down on the counter, but it turned out that your hands were still shaking. All you wanted now was for your anxiety to go away. You were worried about losing your job and anxious for your life. You sat down at the counter taking a deep breath to try to regain yourself again, but it was not that easy. It was a long process of telling yourself that you could do this, that it wasn’t your fault, and you were good at this.

2 Hours later

Nathan POV

(picture found in google)

Nathan walked toward the main entrance of his house, and he greeted his mother. He had called her the previous night and asked her to come in that morning to talk about (Y/N).

“Listen, Nate. (Y/N) is under his grip. She is the only one of us who doesn’t see his bad influence at the moment,” Deb said, sitting down at the kitchen table.

Nathan shook his head. “Mom, I think she knows and enjoys it.”

Deb frowned. “I doubt she is enjoying it, Nathan,” she said. “Now, I am not trying to find excuses for her behavior. It’s just, she wants to impress him. Like you did before.“

“Impress him!? God, Mom, she is not a child anymore. This honestly looks more like she has Stockholm syndrome,” he exclaimed with an exasperated sigh.

Deb sipped on the coffee her son had given her. “Well, I figured it was time for a little intervention,” she informed him.

Nathan tilted his head, but before he had time to say something, the doorbell rang. He immediately frowned. “Oh, Mom. What did you do?” he asked, walking towards the main entrance.

He was just glad Hailey, his wife, was with her best friends Peyton and Brooke, at that moment. He didn’t want her around (Y/N), and both didn’t actually get along. This a good thing, well for Hailey; for him this improvised intervention sounded more like a pain in his neck.

“Hello, cousin,” (Y/N) said, walking into the house pushing past him.

Nathan massaged his temple as he followed her, barely listening to anything she was saying. He crossed his arms as he watched (Y/N) and his mother interact with each other. (Y/N) seemed really different, he could tell she was never faking with her, or at least that’s what she wanted to show. With his father, it was something different, it seemed like she was walking on eggshells and afraid to do wrong. A little like he used to be, always wanting to please Dan, to act like him, and he did become, at some point, someone he wasn’t. He was just glad Hailey was in his life.

“Not that I mind seeing you, but you mind telling me why I am here. I got a job to do,” (Y/N) said, bringing back Nathan to the current situation.

Nathan and Deb looked at each other, then Nathan nodded to his mother to talk first. “(Y/N) sweety, there is something important we need to discuss,” she said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Important? So you didn’t just want to see me?” she said. Nathan swore she sounded hurt by that.  He wasn’t sure. It had been too long since they were last close and he believed anything she said.

Deb appeared to catch that, maybe better than him because she came closer to her. “It’s not about a job, it’s really about you. About what you do for Dan,“ she said softly.

(Y/N) sneered. “Right. Don’t tell me your son convinced you that my job was clearly bothering him,” she said, glaring at Nathan.

Nathan glared back at her, not impressed at all. “Keep believing that what you are doing is because you actually love it,” he said.

“What’s the matter, Nate? You jealous?” she said in a mocking tone. “Can’t handle the fact that your daddy doesn’t care about you anymore?”

“You think he gives a shit about you? That if anything happens to you, he would make the world a living hell just to get revenge?!” he spat.

“Kids. This is not what we are actually here for,” Deb stepped in between the two who were almost chest to chest.

“I’m sorry Aunt Deb, but your son has only been a jerk to me since I came back,” (Y/N) deplored and started to walk out of the kitchen.

Nathan stopped his mom from going after her. “Don’t, Mom. This is what I thought. She is in denial,” he postulated.

Deb frowned. “Maybe. We need to figure out a way to make her realize that. I’ll talk to Dan later.” She sighed, mostly because of the main door slamming shut.

Dean POV

When Dean came back to the motel that morning, he told Sam about (Y/N), about what she was and what she told him. Feeling more like it was a threat than advice, they both decided they would check out her apartment later. Sam suggested that they should go to the city hall to talk to Dan Scott, Keith’s brother, first.

At the city hall, the hardest part was Dan’s secretary. This chick was a pain in the ass for Dean. Apparently not affected by his flirting or Sammy’s puppy dog eyes, she only cared about her job. She gave nothing away and didn’t even want to let Dan Scott know about their current situation, claiming she simply did her job. Thankfully for them, Dan decided to walk out of his office with papers for her to copy and asked if his assistant already arrived or not.

Dean took the liberty to introduce himself to Dan. When their hand shook, Dean had a bad feeling about Dan. Something about him made him cringe and want nothing but to stay away from the arrogant dick. Yeah, Dan Scott was a dick, and the way he talked to them made Dean believe that he was hiding something.

A few minutes into the interview, the office door opened, letting in (Y/N), who quickly left when she saw Dean and his brother. Dean frowned at the sight of her. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted her because this Dan guy wasn’t telling the truth. That’s what his gut was telling him. They had been looking for a clue about Keith’s strange death, barely finding anything. His friends and family never wanted to talk to them. Dean was sure one of them was behind this, so he turned his attention back to Dan.

“Like I was saying, Agent. My brother’s death is terrible, and it hurt me a lot, but he never had any enemies, unlike me,” Dan said.

Sam nodded. “Do you think maybe someone tried to scare you off by doing this?”

Dan pretended to think for a few seconds. “Could be anyone in this town.”

Dean rubbed his face. “Right. Makes sense,” he said under his breath.

Dan frowned. “Well, you could still ask my assistant. She will be pleased to assist you with your investigation,” he offered, but didn’t let them answer as he took his phone to call you. “(Y/N), Come in please.”

The door opened again to let in (Y/N), but she stood at the door like she was worried to come closer. Only then did Dean fully pay attention to her outfit. It was obviously different from the previous night. There was no indication in her outfit she was an assistant, but it seemed professional enough and showed a different side of her. She actually looked vulnerable and innocent, and he never would have expected that. He was lost in his thoughts the sound of her voice brought him back to earth.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” she asked, sounding confident and clearly avoiding eye contact with Dean.

Dan nodded. "Yes. I want you to assist these agents in their investigation, take them anywhere they need to and give them any information they need,” he ordered her.

She nodded. “Alright. Gentlemen, will you follow me please,” she said to the boys. Dean frowned, then looked back at Sam, who seemed more willing to follow (Y/N). Dean stood up and reluctantly followed them out.

For the rest of the day, the situation was a bit tense between Dean and (Y/N). They were avoiding any talk and anything that could show they’d had a thing the previous night. The only issue that Dean had was the fact that she was openly flirting with Sam like she wanted Dean to have some reaction. She even got Sam to agree to a date that night! Sam seemed to be open to her advances and Dean felt his blood boiling. It wasn’t that he was jealous about the situation, it was more about the fact that he knew what she was and didn’t want her to hurt his brother.

He needed to talk to his brother alone as quickly as possible, except they hardly had the chance to be alone for more than a minute. On the other hand, he had one chance to be alone with her. When Sam went to talk to the school janitor because he thought he had a lead on something, Dean asked her to show him around the school. She didn’t appear to think it was a bad idea, and he followed her. After a few minutes of walking and being sure they were out of Sam’s earshot. Dean turned to her.

“You need to stay away from Sam,” he advised.

An enigmatic grin formed on her lips, and automatically Dean knew he would regret warning her away from Sam. “Oh? Why is that?” she teased.

Dean pressed his lips together. “You know why.”

“I know? Hmm,” she said, thinking about it, or she pretended to think. “Well, you know I can’t do that. Given what I am.”

Dean glared at her. “Leave Sam alone!” he said, slightly raising his voice, “or I will bury you.”

She laughed. “But your brother likes me. He wants me. I can tell,” she said, stepping forward and reducing the space between them.

Dean swallowed hard as she used the same technique as the previous night. She grabbed the two sides of his jacket and his eyes darkened with lust.

“He’s my brother, (Y/N),” he growled and pushed her against one of the lockers. “Stay away from him,” he said, looking into her eyes.

For a second, he swore he saw fear in her eyes, but he couldn’t be sure. A sound distracted him, so he stepped back from her and grabbed his gun. Dean sighed when he saw Sam coming, who raised an eyebrow, not understanding what was happening.

“School is over man. You are not supposed to come that way.” Dean shook his head and put his gun away.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Are there other places we could see?” he asked (Y/N), ignoring his brother. (Y/N) nodded before leading him out of the building.

In the afternoon

As Sam and Dean came back in their room, Dean was quieter than usual; he didn’t even make a joke which started to worry Sam. He looked at Dean as he got ready for his date with (Y/N).

“You ok, Dean?” he asked.

Dean looked up from his computer. “Yeah, I am fine,” he said. “I just don’t think you should go.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Why not?“ he asked.

Dean rubbed his face. “She is the witch I slept with last night.” he confessed.

Sam frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I know I should have, but I talked to her and tried to make her stay away from you. I guess it wasn’t enough,” he said. “Also, we needed her in a way.”

Sam stopped his actions. “If she is a witch, she’s probably behind Keith’s death, too,”

Dean sighed. “I thought about it. I am pretty sure she wants to mess with us, the same way she did with me this morning,”

“You mean like she wants us to argue with each other?” Sam suggested.

“Pretty much,” he said, before pinching his nose. “I think maybe you should go. I have a plan.”

(Y/N) POV

You glanced at the three different dresses in front of you, not sure which one you would choose. Sam was supposed to take you to a nice restaurant. You tilted your head and pressed your lips, having Sam in your mind and the kind of guy he was. He was nothing like his brother was. Where Dean was all cocky, Sam was wise. Where Dean was all sassy, Sam was down to earth. And where Dean was sarcastic, Sam was oblivious. It was a different contrast that clearly made you doubt he would appreciate or enjoy the way you dressed, but would care more about your mind. Which was what happened the whole time you talked to him earlier. Sam seemed to be the brain of the two hunters, although you suspected Dean just let Sam be smarter, for some reason.

This is why you naturally chose the pink mini, off-the-shoulder straps and flattering vertical seams to its textured fabric and swingy cut. You put on a simple necklace and some light makeup, lighter than you usually did when you went out. You looked at yourself in the mirror smirking. You were going to have fun tonight, planned on having it, and it would be another kink of yours: bang two brothers at different times. Both were so hot and sexy, how could anyone resist them?

You smirked wider when you heard a knock at the door. You went to open the door but swallowed hard when instead of Sam, Dan was there. You froze and stared with widened eyes not expecting to see him. It took you a considerable amount of willpower to move aside.

“Oh hey, Dan,” you finally managed to say.

Dan walked in and shook his head. “Not the one you expected to see,” he said with a tight-lipped smile.

You played with your hair, something you always did when you were alone with him. You knew this didn’t mean a pleasant visit from him. “I…I actually have a date with Sam Winchester,” you confessed.

Dan’s eyes glanced at your dress, and raised an eyebrow. “So you need to have the other brother too? One wasn’t enough?” he said, sounding slightly judgemental.

You swallowed and looked down. “I…I always need more,” you said, your confidence slowly leaving you.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know you do,” he said. “I am not here to talk about your sex life, just what you know about those hunters.”

You crossed your arms. “Not much. I had the time to make some calls, and by the sound of it, those boys are the best out there.”

Dan stepped closer to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, applying a little pressure on it. “Now, (Y/N), Let’s not make them trap you. We don’t want to start a war around here,” he said. “Make sure you don’t make another mistake like yesterday with Nathan.”

You could only nod. With his other hand, he gently lifted your chin to make you look into his eyes. He seemed to enjoy seeing the fear in your eyes, and a little grin formed on his lips. “By the way, I heard about your little show this morning at Nathan’s. I will suggest that until those hunters leave town, you don’t meet with any members of my family anymore,” he said, stepping back from you, but his hand was still on your shoulder.

You stood there having difficulties swallowing. He didn’t acknowledge you as his family. Why did it still hit you hard like this? Why did you still believe it? It wasn’t the first time he said it, nor would it be the last time, but it still hurt. No words were able to come out. At least, nothing that would help you in this situation. “I don’t want to send you away or to punish you in public, but I will if anything happens to them. Understood?” he said, pressing harder on your shoulder this time.

This sent an electrical charge through your brain, and you stepped back from him and nodded. “Understood. But you should probably leave. Sam will be here any minute, now.” Your voice was low and still not confident.

Dan sent you a dark glare. “Don’t disappoint me, (Y/N),” he threatened before disappearing.

You closed your eyes and released the tension Dan always created in you. Your legs were too heavy to carry you anymore, and you were barely able to reach the couch one step away. A tear fell down your cheek while you curled into a ball. Dan was the worst with you. He was putting so much pressure on you, and he was the reason why everyone hated you. You acted like him with everyone else just to get his approval, have him to tell you that you were part of his family. Whenever he spoke to you like that, it was like someone has stabbed you, each time you felt like you wanted to end it, to make the pain disappear.

The doorbell brought you back to reality, reminding you that you had a date and a mission to accomplish.

Next 

[astridthevalkyrie]

Axe to the Heart: Chapter 10

Astrid Hofferson/Steve Harrington. “Maybe I hate a lot of things here in Hawkins but I suppose you’re not one of them.”

Chapter 9

The general consensus was to keep posting here, and that’s what I was leaning towards anyway, so here you go! Let the oneshots begin!

Basketball Practice

Astrid shut her locker door and faced Steve, who had his hair extra poofy today, and was crossing his arms with a heartwarming grin on his face.

“What do you want?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Ouch.”

She rolled her eyes and then fluttered her eyelashes. “Steve, you look so fantastic today in that sharp outfit, my heart is racing with the thought of how you’d look with it off -”

“Jesus,” he said with a horrified expression. “I wanted you to notice the extra effort, not do…whatever the hell that was.”

She leaned forward with a small smile, and said sweetly but firmly, “What…do…you…want?”

Lately, he’d been coming to her in the morning everyday, and very often it was to tell her about his night, or to tell her about an awesome new movie, or to sing a few lyrics from a song and ask what she thought.

Maybe it should have annoyed her. But he made her laugh. It wasn’t very easy to be annoyed when you were fighting back tears of mirth (okay, tears were once in a while, it was mostly just light giggles).

“I just wanted to ask if you…uh…” He took her hand and squeezed it gently, a gesture he’d been doing often lately. “If you wanted to -”

Oh, gods. Was he going to ask her out? She wasn’t ready just yet. It had been only two weeks since their conversation in her bedroom, and she wasn’t ready at all -

“ - come to basketball practice?”

Oh.

Feeling bad even before saying it, Astrid pushed her hair behind her ear and said, “I go to the station right after school. Hopper’s been taking me out with him when people call in, I don’t want him to think I’m not dedicated, y’know?”

Steve’s face fell, but only briefly. “Oh, that’s no big deal,” he shrugged in his usually way. “If you’re ready to go, let’s get to class.”

“Steve -”

“Don’t worry about it.” He took one of her books from her hands and skimmed through it, probably to avoid her gaze. “It was stupid, we just hadn’t hung out in a few days cause of homework and all that, and I mean, it’s not like we’d be hanging out while I’m playing, anyway. Seriously, Ast, that internship is important to you, it’s not something you can cancel.” He held her free hand and tugged her forward lightly before she could say anything. “And I wouldn’t want you to.”

“Alright,” she murmured, walking next to him, already thinking about how to get off a little earlier today. She’d missed hanging out with him too.

“Chief,” Astrid began, not quite sure how she was going to convince him.

Hopper made a sound to show he was listening, although he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“Um…” She bit her lip, leaning back. Basketball practice was probably already over, because she hadn’t had the courage to ask her mentor lest he think she cared about boys more than her payless job (maybe they were the same level of importance). “There’s…you know Steve?”

This time he glanced at her with a strange look, raising a brow. “Yeah. I know Steve. What about him?”

“He has…well, he asked me…”

“Kid, if you’re asking me for romantic advice, then you should ask someone else.” Hopper snorted, and Astrid shook her head vehemently even though he couldn’t see her.

“No! No, it’s just…heaskedmetocometobasketballpractice,” she blurted out really quickly. When the chief didn’t say anything right away, she went on hurriedly. “And it’s - it’s dumb, I don’t have to go, but he really wanted me to, and it’s probably too late now, but he looked so fuc - darn disappointed, and I feel bad when he feels bad but I have to come here and stay here-”

“This is not what I’m mentoring you in,” Hopper said firmly, but she could hear a light tone of amusement in his voice. “You sound less like you’re trying to convince me, and more like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

Okay, he might have been the police chief of Hawkins, but he had no right to call her out like that. Screw authority.

“I’m convinced! I just…” She crossed her arms and huffed. “Can I go or not?”

He was already turning down the road of the high school as he answered. “Unless you’re particularly concerned with how the Johnsons think their house is haunted, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll drop you off. Just do me one favor.”

“What?” She raised a brow, twiddling her thumbs.

He parked in front of the school and faced her with a dry expression. “Next time you wanna go to someone’s basketball practice, just go. It’ll do me good not to have you nagging about every little call that comes in. You’ll still have your job the next day.”

Astrid opened her mouth in disbelief, shaking her head. “Nagging? This is a serious -”

“God, kid, go watch your boy play basketball and leave me alone!”

The gym was empty - except for Steve, who was sitting on the bleachers with a towel and staring off into empty space.

So she was late for practice. And she didn’t like the pang of guilt that hit her. It was such a small thing, basketball practice. But it was for her friend/a little more than a friend.

“Hey, Harrington.”

He looked up, his face morphing into one of confusion. “Ast? You got off early today?”

“Yeah,” she answered simply, not wanting to delve into her talk with Hopper. She stood in front of him, openly admiring how he looked when he was sweaty (he didn’t seem to mind). “I didn’t think it ended this early. Are you tired?” She grinned at him.

“Not that much. Why?”

Astrid turned around and picked up the basketball, dribbling it as she walked backwards. “Then bring it, Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes lit up and he smirked as he stood up. “I sincerely hope you’re delusional and don’t think you can beat me at a game I play professionally -”

“ - you’re in a high school team -”

“ - try playing with Billy Hargrove and see if anything fazes you after that.”

There was that smile she had been thinking about since this morning. Even as he swore when she made a false move to throw him off and then shot a ball through the hoop, his grin stayed on his face.

After a tie (both got six balls in), they were panting, and laughing at the same time. They both sat down on the bleachers, their backs leaning against each other. Steve leaned his head back so she could see his face clearly. “Alright. I am ten times more attracted to you.”

Astrid laughed, flicking his cheek gently, inwardly acknowledging how her heart fluttered at the joke. “Meh, for me it’s only about five times more. Maybe when I see you in an actual match…sweaty and panting and hopefully winning…”

He guffawed and poked her side. “Jesus Christ, you get dirty fast, Hofferson. What’s next, you’re gonna make out with me in the locker rooms?”

“I am shocked that you think I would stop at making out.”

Steve laughed again, tilting his head to press a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks for coming. And for the…extra practice.”

“You mean the butt whooping? You’re welcome.” She shifted and then laid her head down on his lap. “Don’t worry about it. Hopper doesn’t even want me there!”

“I mean…” Steve leaned down with a smirk. “I’m not surprised.”

Oh, seeing him happy was a delight, but maybe sometimes she had to wipe that cockiness off his face.

“I think you looked horrid at school this morning.”

“We both know you were dreaming about me all day.”

“At least I was just dreaming. You were probably writing Mrs. Astrid Harrington all over your notes.”

“Ast!”

Please, do send in as may prompts as you want, I want ideas! Just remember, whatever the prompt will be, I won’t write it with them as boyfriend and girlfriend, and the other thing is that there’s no guarantee I’ll write it (if I try to write something that doesn’t inspire me it’ll be crap) so that’s why I don’t care if you send in a billion, especially since there’s a small amount of readers. Fanfiction.net people leave it in the reviews, Tumblr people in the reblogs or send me an ask. Thanks!

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are we sure about the In Medias Res one though?

The Wikipedia page literally describes it in the first line as "opens in the midst of the plot." Oxford dictionary also describes it as "in the middle of the narrative."

The way I always understood it, In Medias Res describes a type of story opening that begins after the inciting incident has already happened (i.e. Hamlet beginning after his father's murder, Claudius usurping the throne and marrying his mother), as opposed to the more common type of story beginning where we meet the main characters before they make the decision that kicks off the plot (before Frodo leaves the Shire, before Luke leaves Tatooine, before Katniss volunteers etc.).

Stories that use in medias res have the advantage of creating mystery, suspense, or tension by throwing the reader into a scene with no prior background knowledge that might "ruin the fun" so to speak. They can also be used to skip straight to the action if the inciting incident itself was not something the main character had a lot of agency or was very interesting during (à la Hamlet and Oedipus Rex).

Such stories generally fill the reader in on what happened by using flashbacks, characters referencing past events in dialogue (or soliloquies), or even by telling the story out of chronological order, putting the inciting incident and beginning scenes later in the story (the classic *record scratch; freeze frame* "I bet you are wondering how I got here" trope is a perfect example of this.)

I always chuckle when I see writing advice saying to start the story "in medias res" because you keep using that word, it doesn't mean what you think it means.

OP is not wrong about the whole "you don't have to start the story in the middle, but the world does need to feel lived in." It's just that, "make the world feel lived in" is not the same thing as in medias res, and any writing advice to start a story in medias res is using the term incorrectly in start with.

sorry, semantics *shrugs*

I've noticed that people take writing advice way too literally and then get really mad about it, so here's a quick guide of what the typical "bad' writing advice is actually trying to tell you.

[Note: you don't have to take literally any piece of advice. It's just there for your consideration. If you hate it, leave it and do things the way you want. But the reason all of this advice is regurgitated so often is because it has helped a lot of people, so it's okay if it's not for you, but it may still be life changing for someone else.]

Write Every Day

"Write every day" is NOT supposed to be a prescriptivist, unbreakable rule that dictates anyone who doesn't write literally every day isn't a real writer. It's supposed to be a shorthand way of saying "establish a writing routine. Get used to writing at certain times or in certain places or in certain patterns, both so that you can trick yourself into writing even when you don't feel like it by recreating certain conditions, but also because if you only write "when you're in the mood", you may never get around to finishing a project and you likely won't be able to meet publishing deadlines if you decide to pursue publication."

The point of this advice is basically just to get used to seeing writing as part of your daily routine, something that you do regularly. But if you decide you can't write on Tuesdays or weekdays or any day when you have certain other activities, that's literally fine. Just try to make it a habit if you can.

2. Show Don't Tell

"Show don't tell" DOES NOT AND HAS NEVER meant "never state anything plainly and explicitly in the text". Again, "show don't tell" is a shorthand, and its intended message is "things tend to feel a lot more satisfying when your reader is able to come to that conclusion on their own rather than having the information given to them and being told they just have to accept it." It's about giving your reader the pieces to put the puzzle of your book together on their own rather than handing them a finished puzzle and saying "there. take it."

So if you have a character who's very short-tempered, it's typically more satisfying that you "show" them losing their cool a few times so that the reader can draw the conclusion on their own that this character is short-tempered rather than just saying "He was short-tempered". Oftentimes, readers don't want to take what you tell them at face value, so if you just state these sorts of details, readers will push back against that information. People are significantly more likely to believe literally any information they are able to draw conclusions on without being told what to believe, so that's where this advice comes in.

3. In Medias Res

This one is so often misunderstood. "In medias res" or "start in the middle", DOES NOT MEAN to literally start halfway through your plot. It also DOES NOT MEAN that you should start in the middle of an action packed scene. It just means that when you start your story, it should feel like the world and the characters already existed before we started following them. It shouldn't feel like everything was on pause and the world and characters only started acting the moment the story begins.

This is why starting with a character waking up or something similar can feel jarring and slow. We want to feel instantly compelled by your character, and the most efficient way to do that is [typically] to have them already doing something, but that something can be anything from taking a shower to commuting to school to chopping off a dragon head. We just want to feel like the story is already moving by the time we enter.

4. Shitty First Drafts

The idea that you should let your first draft suck and not revise it as you go is a tip presented to combat the struggle a lot of people have with not being able to finish a draft. If you find you've been working on the same first draft for five years and barely gotten anywhere, you might want to try this advice. The point is to just focus on getting to the ending because finishing a draft can give you renewed energy to work on the book and also makes it easier to get feedback from readers and friends.

That said, if your story is flowing fine even as you go back and make edits, then don't worry about this. This is advice specifically designed to target a problem. Likewise, this doesn't mean that you can't clean up typoes when you see them or even make minor edits if you want to. It just means not to let yourself get completely bogged down by making changes that you never move forward.

A "shitty first draft" also doesn't mean that your story has to be completely illegible. It just means that you shouldn't let perfectionism stop you yet. I see a lot of people say "well, I can't keep going until this first part makes sense", and that's totally reasonable! Again, the point of this advice is just to get you out of that rut that keeps you from making progress, but if you spend a couple weeks editing and then move on or you find the book is still making forward strides while you edit, then you're fine. You don't need this.

5. Adverbs

The idea that you "shouldn't use adverbs" DOES NOT MEAN that any time you use an adverb, you're ruining your story. It just means that you shouldn't *rely* on adverbs to carry your story, namely in places where stronger verbs or nouns would do a lot more heavy lifting.

For instance, you can write "she spoke quietly", but generally speaking, that "quietly" there is a lot weaker than just subbing out this clause for "she whispered". You probably have the word "spoke" all over your draft, so subbing out one instance of it here for a stronger verb in place of the same verb + an adverb makes for stronger prose. This doesn't mean that you'll never want to use the phrase "spoke quietly" over the word "whispered". For instance, if I write, "When she finally spoke, she spoke quietly, like that was all the volume her weakened lungs could muster." In this case, I'm using "spoke quietly" specifically *because* it echoes the previous spoke earlier in the sentence, and it evokes a certain level of emotion to have that repetition there. I also used it because she's not actually "whispering", but trying to speak at full volume only to come off sounding quiet.

So when people tell you to cut adverbs, they're saying this because people often use adverbs as a crutch to avoid having to seek out stronger verbs. If you're using your adverbs intentionally, having considered stronger verbs but ultimately deciding that this adverb is what does the job properly, then there's nothing wrong with using them. This is just a trick to help you spot one common weakness in prose that a lot of authors don't even realize they have.

6. Write What You Know

This is potentially the single worst-underestood piece of writing advice. "Write what you know" DOES NOT MEAN to write only what you know or that you have to put all of your life's knowledge on the page. It just means that drawing from your own experiences and already there knowledge will help you craft a better story.

So, for instance, being an eye doctor doesn't mean you have to write a story about an eye doctor. It doesn't even mean you need to write a story that directly deals with any eye knowledge. It just means that there are likely things you've experience as an eye doctor that can help inspire or inform your story. Maybe you remember a patient who always wore the same yellow shoes, and so you include a character who does exactly that. Maybe you spent a lot of hours dealing with insurance so you decide to write about insurance agents. Maybe your practice was located next to a grocery store so you decide to write a zombie apocalypse story that takes place in a location inspired by that shopping center.

The point is that, as people, our lived experiences allow us to relate to other people and craft more believable worlds. So don't limit yourself to your lived or experience or feel obligated to only write the things you've done, but when you find yourself wondering what to write about next or how to give a character more depth or how to describe this random location, pull things from your life and let what you already know bring a certain level of unique you-ness to your writing.

And the MOST important advice I can give you is to stop looking at writing advice as some holy, unbreakable rules passed down by the gods that you cannot ever deviate from. And if a piece of advice sounds totally bonkers, do some research on it. There's a good chance that whoever's passing it to you has no idea what they're talking about. But even if every other writer swears by a certain piece of advice, you absolutely do not need to take it. Try it on if you want, and throw it away if you don't, but stop making yourselves miserable by letting random internet people dictate your life. Most people giving advice on the internet aren't where you want to be anyway, so don't expect them to be able to guide you somewhere they've never been.

Everything's made up, and nothing matters. Write what you want.

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Ever since I've started paying attention to how published authors use punctuation, I have stopped caring about sentence fragments, or overusing commas, semicolons, and em-dashes.

You gotta let your sentences flow naturally. Sometimes that means not using three em-dashes in a paragraph because it is distracting. Sometimes that means using three semicolons in a single sentence (*cough* Frank Herbert).

Maybe the rule is, don't use fancy punctuation/fragments if following grammar rules and conventions will do, but sometimes your sentence just sounds better with six commas, an em-dash, and no verbs.

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Descriptive writing hacks, anyone?

Hey writing humans? Can you all do me a huge favour?

Reblog this with your best DESCRIPTIVE WRITING tips, opinions, resources, and examples.

Please don't put anything related to character creation or plot development (unless its also about descriptive writing ofc). There are soooo many good resources for those. I want to give some love to descriptive writing because I think as writers we forget about this part sometimes.

I'll go first. Here's what I've got so far:

For resources, some of my favourites are Shaelin Writes and Reedsy on Youtube (she also has a blog), Hello Future Me on YouTube, and Hey Writers and Writing Questions Answered here on Tumblr.

As for tips, here we go:

General tips for description:

Give everything a face / the bigger the concept the smaller you write / focus on the little details

A description should serve multiple functions (mood, tone, atmosphere, foreshadowing, symbolism, characterization, theme, worldbuilding, hinting at backstory, advancing the plot etc.) / word choice matters; two words can mean the same thing but evoke different feelings or subtext

Weave description into action, dialogue, dialogue tags, and characters' thoughts

Describe only what the POV character knows, describe what they think of it (the later also applies to omniscient narrators)

Use the five senses

Be specific / Use precise language where it matters; you can still be vague about unimportant details like eye colour (unless eye colour is actually important to your story of course)

If a scene isn't working change the weather / use atmosphere to create contrast or call attention to the setting and the events of the scene.

Describe facial expressions, body language, how a character walks or carries themselves, important accessories they wear

Create a sense of place / describe where things are in relation to the characters (objects in the room, named roads or mountains, other characters, the ocean if they are by the sea, the direction of the wind, etc.)

Show time passing (shadows, position of the sun, wind changing, colour of the sky, bells ringing etc.)

General tips for stronger prose (not just description):

Use sentence length intentionally. Long sentences are slower to read, short sentences are quick; conversely, long sentences build tension, short sentences release it. Long sentences invoke a more formal, archaic tone while shorter sentences seem modern.

Use -ing verbs sparingly

Avoid vague words like some, really, and thing

Use "to be" verbs ("was" and "is") sparingly

Cut weasel words like basically, seems, sort of, like, and suddenly

Don't state the obvious. For example, the red apple, he held the apple in his hand, the tree stood at the end of the driveway beside the road, she stood up.

Cut filter words like saw, knew, realized, felt

Use active voice / Follow the "By Zombies" Rule

Hope this helps someone, and thanks guys!!

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Happy STS! (We'll just pretend this is Saturday :P ) How do you develop your characters? What's your favourite way to develop them (character development questions, drabbles, some other way)?

Thanks for the STS friend!

My answer is below the cut because I am addicted to making lists.

When I create a character, at the bare minimum before I can start writing, I like to know:

(for plot reasons)

what they want more than anything in the world (that can be made relevant to the story)

what they are willing to do to get what they want, and what they are not willing to do (if anything)

what/who they care about and/or what their moral beliefs are

why they don't already have the thing they want

what happens if they never get it

is the thing they want actually what they want or is it just what they think they want? What might make them realize this?

do any of their moral beliefs contradict?

what (plot relevant) things are they good at? what do they suck at?

do I want this character to have a happy ending?

basic things like gender, religion, sexuality, social class, how much money they have, education, ethnicity.

their role in the story: hero, villain, anti-hero, villain-protagonist, hero-antagonist, friend of the hero, mentor, etc.

I can generally get through a whole draft or two of a story knowing nothing else beforehand. If other things become relevant I can just make them up on the spot.

By later drafts though, I also need to know:

speech patterns and common phrases

clothing, hair, physical appearance

weapons they carry or can use (if relevant)

how they walk and sit, where they like to stand in a room, other body language where relevant

(particularly what these things^^ could tell the reader about the character) also:

how other characters react to them (intimidated, friendly, distrustful, reverence, annoyance etc.)

how I want the audience to perceive them (sweet, kind, disturbing, intimidating, attractive, powerful, suspicious etc.) and, therefore, what types of words and details to use when describing them.

are they good at lying (if relevant), what are their tells?

are they well-mannered, street-smart, tactful, confrontational, good at hiding their emotions, easily angered, impulsive, shy, confident, aware of others or their surroundings? Basically, how do they handle social situations and conflict?

I find most character questionnaires to be unhelpful because they tend to ask a bunch of questions that just aren't important in the kinds of stories I write. I don't know most of my characters' favourite colours, exact heights, or how many siblings they have. If it actually comes up in the story I'll just make something up on the spot. Also, questionnaires seldom ask some things that I find rather important like, "what lies do they believe?" Though I guess I just made my own questionnaire haha.

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I reread whichever draft I'm currently on. If I start skimming my readers probably will too.

real question. how do other writers manage story pacing. is it intuitive or do you have a system

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BRO I GOT NEWS:

https://www.instagram.com/p/CwQd6Hug5nM/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

YOU GOT A SETHWRITES POST BUD.

YOOOOOOOOOO thanks for telling me!!! I have hit a tumblr milestone (having a post stolen and reposted to another social media). Very exciting!!

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happy Storyteller Saturday, Kate!

can you share something you learned while writing an unfinished WIP (even better if it's a WIP you now don't plan on finishing)? it can be about technique, your own beliefs about writing/storytelling, a fact you learned from research, or anything else!

Happy STS, Saran!

I suppose I learned that 100% of the time the reason why I shelve a WIP (or have to start over) is because I have no idea what I want the central tension (the conflict) of the story to be between.

Maybe I have an antagonist. Maybe I don't. Maybe that antagonist has a goal. Maybe it conflicts with what the protagonist wants.

But that still doesn't explain why the protagonist can't just win. Why can't they just march up to the antagonist, challenge them to a duel or whatever, and bam! end of story?

And going, oh they aren't skilled enough to win yet still doesn't make for a very interesting story. That would just be 60k words of training montage.

No. What I was missing was internal conflict.

Will the protagonist's primary goal come into conflict with something they value or believe in? Does the protagonist have two conflicting goals and are they trying desperately to have it both ways? Is the protagonist's goal built on a lie and at what point will they be forced to reckon with that? Does the protagonist have some fatal flaw getting in the way of their goal? etc.

So the long and short is the failed projects taught me that story doesn't come from two forces fighting. A story (to oversimplify) is the question, "which difficult choice should I make?" and the process of coming to an answer.

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I think it depends on how "rough" your manuscript is.

Like, I cut the first draft of WIPVII from 112 572 to 77 049 words but the first draft was very, very rough. These are the things that worked for me but that might not work if your draft is more polished than mine was.

Structural:

Combine scenes. Ex: In scene A the characters learn important plot information and in scene B the characters have a fight and part ways for a bit. Could these things happen at the same time?

Do I really need this scene? Or can I scrap it for parts?

Does this need to be a scene? Can it be a half-scene or a summary? Sometimes exposition is better.

Start every scene as late as possible. End every scene as early as possible.

If the story feels too slow, like the plot/pacing is dragging, that is a pretty good indication that there is some scene or section that doesn't need to be there (or is in the wrong place).

Cut any scenes that are just characters getting from one place to another or describing time passing. Unless a really long time has passed (like months or years) you don't even need to mention that time has passed. Your readers will figure it out from context.

Line edits:

Don't say something in three sentences that you can find a more impactful way to say in one. [or three paragraphs in my case ouch]

You don't need to describe every single facial expression or bit of body language. You also don't need to describe every time a character changes location in a room etc.

You need way less dialogue tags than you think. Seriously.

Dialogue should not read like a normal conversation. Characters don't need to exchange pleasantries, repeat themselves, go on long tangents, or have lengthy back-and-forth banter. Cut it down to just the good stuff.

Trust your audience. You don't need to overexplain every thought/decision the character makes.

Less is more when it comes to dialogue, action tags, and internal monologue. The less words you use the more punch they pack.

The real nitpicky hacks:

Is that redundant word/statement really adding anything? Things like "she stood [up]" but also "they parked the car in the driveway [in front of the house]" and "the apple [was bright red]".

Remove the "was/is" from the sentence and see if you like it more. Ex. "She was walking to the park when she saw..." versus "Walking to the park, she saw..."

Do you need a lengthy description there or might something basic flow better/pack more punch? Ex: "he threw his head back with laughter" versus "he laughed".

Active voice generally uses less words than passive so watch that.

I don't have any specific filler words to cut but my rule is generally, make sure every words adds something to the sentence. Try taking it out of the sentence and seeing if it sounds richer.

Also, check out ShaelinWrites on YouTube. She has a bunch of videos about strengthening prose. I learned a lot of these tips from those. She also gives a very extensive list of filler words in one video.

That's all I got for now. Hope something in here might be useful to you<33

friends: what are your favourite ways to shorten a manuscript? crutch words to demolish, sentence structures to remove, scenes to cut…. all suggestions are welcome!