#one tip that I found helpful was to start sentences and then change them to something else in the middle

[writer-logbook]

5 tips for proofreading & their pros and cons

Define your objectives for each chapter. In my case, some of my chapters are better written than others. My objectives for them will differ. Before starting my proofreading, I list my needs and areas of improvements, and I write them down somewhere so I have them in front of me rather than in my head alone.

Pros : allows you to know which points you need to focus on ; provides a guideline adapted to your needs.

Cons : risk of losing homogeneity and fluidity + flaws may be shifted to other chapters that didn't have them before due to a sudden imbalance.

Plan several proofreading sessions, each one of them addressing ONE NEED AT A TIME. (E.g., one for grammar, another for style, and a final one for coherence. ) And I insist on the "one need at a time" part. Even for those who can multitask (unlike me), I really don't recommend settling for a single proofreading session. It could interfere with your concentration and let you skip some flaws. And please, always give your chapter a final read after your edits to ensure that the elements make sense as a whole, and are not repeated every two paragraphs (I plead guilty, your honor)

Pros: allows you to focus precisely on each point, and give it dedicated attention.

Cons: you can quickly get confused and risk multiple re-readings + significant time investment.

I make my corrections on a separate file. Whatever you do, it's always better to have a backup and therefore to save your files (don't blindly trust autosave) to create archives. I think it's a two-ways process : 1) you open two files simultaneously, one with your V1 and one, blank, where you'll rewrite your chapter as you make changes. Eventually, this new doc will become your V2 ; 2) you copy the parts to proofread into a new document and edit directly in there.

Pros: allows you to rewrite as you wish without being discouraged by the following paragraphs - especially in case of the first way.

Cons: requires multiple files (maybe multiple screens to be at ease) and better organization.

Change the typography. I don't know about you, but after a while, I'm struck by semantic satiation (click on the link - it's Wikipedia -, it's very interesting) and nothing makes sense anymore. After the 52,846th proofreading, I might as well read in another language. I've found a relatively effective trick - not as effective as a complete break, but sometimes you need to move forward - which consists of changing the typography. I can't remember who gave me this advice though, but be sure they've been thanked more than enough in my mind. In any case, seeing words change their shape significantly helps my brain to stay focused and attentive. (Maybe it's just my mind playing tricks on me but I only see the results.)

Pros: it's simple to implement.

Cons: I don't know if this trick works for everyone or if I'm the only weirdo (you can tell me in the comment section).

Take notes. This is a very personal tip but I keep a proofreading logbook. Like, I record in a few sentences the first time an element is mentioned, how it's describes, and most importantly… I MENTION THE DATES. The story I'm currently writing is heavily governed by a chronological system, so I have an absolute need to keep the day count up to date.

Pros: helps avoid inconsistencies and oversights.

Cons: very tedious to maintain and creates (a lot) of extra work.

I've started my prooreading journey yesterday and I already want to die. If I find in the edits something that is worth making a post, be sure that I will. Or let me know if you're simply curious.

Gentle reminder : Best is the worst enemy of good so, at some point, you'll have to let it go and let your chapter live its life to its fullest. Don't be hard on yourself and be proud of your work - or know that I am.

[beenbaanbuun]

cub w/ choi san

this is not proof read but it will be!!!!

——————————————————————————

having thoughts about san with bear hybrid!reader, specifically on the first day of spring….

winter had been pretty lazy for the two of you. with a hibernating bear, there wasn’t much for him to worry about other than making sure you ate enough. you could keep yourself curled up in the little den you slumbered in in the corner of his room, all warm and cosy and safe in the knowledge that san would be there to take care of you. it’s safe to say that over those chilly winter months you were pampered—more than you perhaps should have been—but san was far too soft to care. if his little cub wanted something, then he’d be damned if you didn’t get it.

it was a few days before the beginning of march that he started to notice a change in you. you were actually asking for the things you wanted instead of just making sounds and expecting him to figure it out. your sentences were short, and you almost never lifted your head from beneath your blankets to say them, but it was more than he’d had for the past while. he’d even caught you stretching your limbs between bathroom breaks once or twice which almost made him drop whatever he was carrying every time he walked into the room to see you standing up, wobbly and bleary eyed.

you still let him feed you during those more lucid days. perhaps you might have been ‘awake’ enough to traipse yourself to the kitchen and grab a sweet treat from the fridge, but it was just so much easier to ask san to do it for you. he practically jumped at the chance, pressing a teeny kiss to your forehead with each request before shooting out of the room to complete it as soon as possible. it’s in his nature to be caring; you were simply using that to your advantage.

but perhaps san had gotten too used to your laziness as when the first day of spring finally rolled around, he found himself being rudely awoken by a weight falling atop his stomach. he groans, face screwing up in pain as all the air gets forced from his lungs. there’s a giggle that comes from the strange thing that’s wriggling over him like an overactive earth worm, and despite his frustration at his streak of lazy days being broken, he can’t help but crack a smile.

“it’s spring, i assume,” he murmurs, voice still gravelly with the remnants of last nights sleep. the worm wriggles it’s way up to his body until a head finds itself perched atop his chest. he cracks an eye open to look at you, “wriggly this morning, aren’t we?”

you make a point to squirm a little more, but your plans are soon foiled by an arm that wraps itself around your waist. “wouldn’t you be wriggly if you had the pent up energy of three whole months living inside of you?” you try to move but the grip only tightens. a displeased chuff crawls it’s way up your throat, but it does little more than make the man chuckle and tip his head back against the pillow once more.

“sleep a little more, my little pooh bear,” the nickname irritates you; that’s why he says it. san just adores hearing you grumble in complaint whilst being entirely too soft to act upon your non-verbal threats.

“i can’t sleep,” you reply, “so i’d appreciate it if you got up!”

“brat.”

“and who’s fault is that!” all your fight drains out of you when san still refuses to move. your shift your head to lay it flat against his chest, snorting out a sound of displeasure before puffing your cheeks up in a pout. san tells you you’re a good girl, but you don’t respond to him, simply too focussed on proving your displeasure. “you’re the one who pampered me all winter…”

and san supposed you’re right. he did spoil you a little more than he should so it’s no surprise that you’ve turned out to be such a little princess. he barely even blinks an eye when you command something of him, simply moving to comply to your demands straight away, and he hardly ever complains when you demand things; why would he when the you always seem so happy when he pampers you rotten? maybe his heart is too soft, or maybe you’ve just moulded it perfectly to fit right into your little mitts. san doesn’t doubt that you’re crafty enough to pull off some master manipulation scheme to make him your own personal butler, but somehow he can’t find it in him to care.

he sighs, “what do you even want to get up for? it’s cold outside and there aren’t even buds on the trees yet.”

san doesn’t even need to open the curtains to know that a thin layer of frost still carpets the grass outside; he can feel the chill infiltrating his bedroom, seeping through his skin and making his bones ache. a shiver runs through his body and to tugs you closer still.

“how do you know?” you argue.

“that it’s cold?” he replies incredulously, “because i can feel it, dummy.”

you roll your eyes, irritated at his answer.

“no,” someone’s grumpy, san thinks to himself. he’s sure he’ll have to work hard to make up for your bad mood later. whatever; he doesn’t have to pretend to be mad at it when he knows deep down that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you smiling. “how do you know there aren’t leaves on the trees yet? your curtains are closed and so are your eyes! how can you tell if you haven’t even looked.”

god, you’re a brat.

san pushes you off of him, gently rolling you to the side before twisting his own body to pin you to the mattress. again, your body moves like a worm as he settles atop you, but one soft kiss against your neck has you melting into him. soft little cub; you’re not the only one who knows how to get what you want.

“i can tell because there weren’t any yesterday,” his voice is hushed against your ear, his warm breath tickling your soft skin. you squeal and try and squirm free, but the way he’s holding you keeps you in place. there’s another kiss right below your earlobe and you go limp once more, “trees don’t go green over night, my sweet teddy. a little patience doesn’t go amiss, sometimes.”

and you can’t help but feel like he’s making a jab at you with that last comment. patience is never something you’ve had, but again, its san’s tendency to spoil you that’s to blame. you scoff, but don’t say a thing.

“now, cub,” san whispers, “take a little nap with me and we can enjoy spring a little later.”

[svt-rosalie]

hi!! i was just wondering if you could go more in depth about yoongi and rosie’s relationship? they are such a sweet sibling duo and i’d love to read more about them!

. . . ♡ YOOJI ! ? 🐡 TIMELINE ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ relationships! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

you're in the first sentence of this

non-stopping page, my brightest dream

rainbow, nct dream

2013-2014 / Where It All Started.

Rosalie had attended a BTS fansign in 2013, when she got some free time after training

She loved meeting all the boys but her favorite was Yoongi

He was confused when she confessed that statement towards, yet she explained that his attitude and rapping skills drew her in and she’s excited to see what they become

She hoped they would make it big and all their dreams would come true

Rosie also confessed that she was training too at Pledis and hoped one day he could see her on stage and cheer her on like she does him

Their interaction was short but memorable

Yoongi spoke about her to his company and asked if they could get in contact with hers to see if it would be allowed for her to visit back and forth for training purposes

Pledis was skeptical, not wanting a trainee of theirs to get into a scandal before they even made a debut, but as long as their meetings were supervised then it was fine

(As if a 13 year old girl is thinking of anything other then school and her training?? Shut the fuck up Pledis)

The big brother roll set in very quickly for Yoongi

The two would spend time together with Yoongi teaching her skills with writing music and helping her rap even though she knew she wanted to be a singer

Knowing how to rap wasn’t a bad skill, as Yoongi would say

Every single time they would work together Rosalie took in every word Yoongi said like he hung the moon in the sky

Again — Rosalie was a fan of Yoongi and all the other members of BTS. So, it was crazy for her to be in the same room as the boy, gaining tips and tricks from him even though he was still a rookie

She just knew though that he and his member would be something one day, and she’d be right their supporting them!

2015-2018 / Debut, and More

After months of training and putting her blood, sweat and tears into everything that she does

Rosalie finally debuts

She hadn’t told a single soul that her groups first music video would be out on May 26 that year

Not even Yoongi, it was suppose to be a surprise

And surprised he was

Yoongi didn’t find out until Seventeen had a stage on the same day as BTS at the same place ( author note, i know run by bts was released in april 2015 so i feel like their schedules might have overlap but im not sure, so we are going to pretend they did!)

BTS has been busy that year, changing their concept and figuring out what said group was going to be with their newest comeback ‘Run’ — so Yoongi didn’t really have the chance to ask Rosalie many questions other then

‘How are you doing?’ ‘Are you eating correctly?’ ‘Is anyone being mean to you?’ ect ect

So it definitely threw the older boy off when the (at the time) 5’6 girl comes running at him and yelling “I debuted! I debuted! Aren’t you happy?”

Yoongi was very excited for her even if he didn’t show it well

Rosie knew though

She knew that he was proud and little scared for her as well in his eyes.

Eyes tell.

Yoongi and Rosie cheered each other on silently and behind the scenes

The older boy would send her flowers and words of encouragement when she had a showcase she’s was nervous to perform for or when she needed some uplifting words

Rosalie would show him pictures of her pulling his photos cards and would subtly promote BTS whenever she could.

The kpop community found out of their friendship when Yoongi released his solo mixtape under the name Agust D and they had a collab named ‘So Far Away’

Fans were surprised but at the same time not really that surprised, if that makes sense?

Everyone saw the subtly of their friendship, a senior and junior.

But it was more of older brother and younger sister.

Yoongi even though he would encourage her and give her advice, he still teased her.

They took the world by storm again when posting a photo together on BTS twitter with the caption “annoying little sister.”

Since 2017 they’ve became known to the world as the nations favorite siblings

Even though they aren’t related!

2020-Present / A Lifetime Friendship

The continued to have a strong bond throughout the years

They released many collabs together such as the song Eight on Rosalie’s first solo album, People Pt.2 on Yoongi’s Second mixtape

The public loved and hold on to every interaction they have

Rosalie’s parents think of Yoongi as a son they dreamed for

Yes, they love their two daughters but having son wouldn’t be so bad

At least that’s what Rosie’s mother says every time the older boy visits

Rosalie calls Yoongi any chance she gets

You know how their are some girls that call their mom or dad when they are in the car or getting ready, that’s Rosalie with Yoongi

Constantly.

The amount of youtube complications made for Yoongi and Rosie’s friendship

Clips resurface every year such as . . .

A clip from one of Rosie’s vlog of her and Yoongi going strawberry picking and then Rosie forcing the boy to bake a strawberry cake from the fruit they picked that day

Or Yoongi being recorded supporting Rosie at her Solo debut showcase in Seoul

Clips of Rosalie’s collection go BTS album collection right next to her SEVENTEEN ones, she likes to show off the photo cards she collect

(She’s one of us guys)

The two have never argued, disagreements yes, but they never get angry with each other

Rosalie is so happy she has someone like Yoongi in her life and Yoongi feels the exact same.

Twin flames, the two will stick by each others side till the very end

author note — this sucks, i’m sorry

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @vlbi @iamawkwardandshy

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Slutmas Day 9

Subspace (Chris)

Request: None

Warnings: Sub Chris, kinda short, major mommy kink, use of a vibrator, cockwarming

“Your good boy right mommy? Always wanna be your good boy.”

3rd person pov

Lately Chris has been feeling very submissive in just about every aspect of his life, wanting to be a good boy and please everyone. Matt and Nick have noticed and keep making fun of him calling him a “little bitch” or “a baby” and it’s really starting to hurt his feelings. He doesn’t like them making fun of him over something he doesn’t understand and can’t control.

The boys hometown best friend and roommate Y/n finds it kinda cute, she’s constantly telling him he’s doing a good job and making him blush. She’s making him feel some type of way that he can’t describe but it turns him on. Chris would usually just jerk off when he’s horny, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to do it lately. He feels like he somehow needs permission from someone.

Y/n noticed her praising had an effect on Chris one day when she told him how good of a job he was doing cleaning his room. He was making his bed when she came in, “Ooo Chris you’re doing such a good job, it looks so good sweetheart” is what she told him. For some reason that sentence was enough to make him hard, he whimpered when she said it before coming over to give her a hug. Y/n could feel his hard-on against her thigh and he whimpered again as her thigh rubbed against his cock.

Chris had become increasingly clingy, always wanting to be near his brothers or Y/n. Almost like a shadow, following their every move. Once again, his two brothers found it irritating as they had no personal space. They’re constantly running into and stepping on him since he’s always in the way. Y/n found it cute that he’d follow her around, always helping her, wanting to please the younger girl. One day he slipped up as he was feeling extra submissive, thankfully Matt and Nick were not home because he’d be so embarrassed if they heard. His two brothers went to stay the night at a friends house but Chris didn’t want to go since he was now only super clingy towards Y/n.

“That’s a good boy, thank you for helping me” is the sentence that made him slip up, after he put something back onto a higher shelf for her. The words that slipped out of his mouth instantly made him feel embarrassed, “Your good boy right mommy? Always wanna be your good boy” is what had slipped out. He was about to apologize when Y/n said “Mhm you’re mommy’s good boy Chris” for some reason she was oddly turned on.

Y/n’s pov

I was loving how submissive Chris had been towards me this past month, he was being so cute and loved my praising. I swear I could’ve cum on the spot when he said “Your good boy right mommy? Always wanna be your good boy” after I had called him a good boy for helping me. His cheeks flushed a deep red shade and he was about to apologize when I put my hand on his chest and looked up at him “Mhm you’re mommy’s good boy Chris” I told him. A loud whine had fallen from his mouth when I said that as his mind went to a dirty place. He was already extremely horny from not jerking off so the next sentence just kind of tumbled out without him meaning to say it out loud.

Chris had grabbed my hand, looking at me with the most innocent face “C-Can I please jerk off mommy? I’ve been good, I haven’t touched myself in three weeks! N-Need to c-cum, please” he stated anxiously. His face was then covered in a deeper blush that spread to the tip of his ears and down his neck. “How about you let mommy make you feel good? I think my good boy deserves an award, don’t you?” I asked making his eyes go wide while I pushed his hair back a little. “Yes! Yes please, mommy! I wanna feel good!” he said excitedly.

We went down to my room and I went to go grab some lingerie to change into when Chris grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “No, please you already look so pretty, wanna see you” he quietly mumbled out, I cupped his face in both hands ��Yeah, you think so? So sweet baby, now can you strip for me and go sit on the bed like a good boy?” I asked, placing a kiss on his lips. He quickly complied sitting against the headboard, his cock already dripping precum onto his stomach.

I teasingly undressed in front of Chris making him whine, only leaving my panties on before going to my dresser. I opened one of the drawers to grab a small vibrator to use on Chris, “Have you ever used a vibrator before handsome?” I asked sweetly. He shook his head no, blush creeping up onto his cheek again as I sat down to the left of him. “Have you ever wanted to use one?” I questioned, loving the way his eye went wide and his mouth slightly parted. “Yes, wanna use one please” he admitted.

I pushed some of his hair back before placing a soft kiss to his neck, making him whine when I trailed my hand down his chest. I took him by surprise when I grabbed his hard cock and dug my thumb into the slit. “M-Mommy?” “Yes angel?” “Can I g-get a kiss?” I smiled at how cute he was before moving my other hand up to his face. I smiled as I pulled him in for a slow kiss, lightly biting his lip when I pulled away, “Are you gonna listen to me and be a good boy?” I asked him.

I removed my hand from his cock making him let out a loud whine, “Please! I promise I’ll be your good boy!” he said pathetically. I took the vibrator and brought it down to the base of his cock, “Put your hands behind your back and don’t cum, okay?” I told him, “Okay mommy” he complied. I turned on the vibrator to a medium-high setting causing Chris to let out a loud gasp, I started slowly moving it up and down the underside of his cock, tracing a very prominent vein. “Can you spit on your cock for me baby?” I asked, to which Chris did almost immediately.

“Good job sweetheart” I smiled at him as I wrapped my hand around his cock, jerking him off with the vibrator. Chris bucked his hips up a few times as he moaned and whimpered in pleasure. “Feels so good, thank you mommy” he whined out, “You’re welcome, are you close to cumming yet baby?” I asked as I sped up my movements. “Y-Yeah” he said back quietly, “If I suck you off, will you be a good boy and cum for me?” I teased, already knowing the answer. “Yes mommy, wanna cum for you” he moaned as I moved to be in between his legs.

I moved my hand away and turned off the vibrator, immediately going down to suck his cock. I started off by teasing the head a bit by giving it kitten licks before deep throating him. It only took a couple of minutes for Chris to loudly moan as he came in my mouth. I swallowed and looked at him, he was panting and had a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, making his hair stick to it. “Do you think you can get hard again so mommy can ride you?” I asked softly. Chris said “If you makeout with me I can” in a small voice.

I moved to straddle his lap, immediately pulling him in for a rough kiss. I started slightly grinding on him, slowly feeling his cock get hard again as I did so. “Ready mommy, wanna be inside you” he whined, I got off his lap just long enough to take my panties off and quickly returned to his lap. I started slowly grinding a bit, my wetness spreading across his cock. “M-Mommy, I made you that wet right? Cause I’m your good boy?” Chris inquired, “Yes baby, it was all you. You’re my good boy” I smiled at him.

“Ride me please?” he asked quietly, “Okay, are you ready?” I questioned as I lined up his tip with my entrance. Chris nodded and we both let out pornographic moans as I sank down in his cock. “You’re so big baby” I said, loving the way he stretched me out, I immediately started bouncing on his cock, making Chris whine. “Can I touch your boobs please mommy?” he asked politely after a couple of minutes. Since Chris had been good so far, I agreed and he started to fondle my breasts. He ducked his head down to suck on one of my nipple while he played with the other one, helping me get to my high faster.

“Mommy? I need to cum! Can I please cum?” Chris pleaded, letting out a loud whine at my response. “Not yet, I’m so close baby, just a little longer” I moaned back as I started bouncing faster. Chris was a whiny, whimpering mess as it was getting harder him to hold it. “Cum with my baby” I moaned as I started cumming around his cock, Chris not far behind. After a few more bounces, he was cumming inside of me with a loud moan. “Oh thank you mommy! Felt so good! I love you Y/n” his breath hitched at his last sentence, not meaning to say it out loud.

“I love you to Chris” I softly smiled back, exhausted from riding him. I was about to pull off when Chris stopped me, “Wait! Can you please cockwarm me while we take a nap?” he asked shyly, “Of course I can, you wanna lay down?” I replied. Chris just nodded, moving us onto our sides and laying down, burying his head in my neck. “Goodnight handsome” I said while playing with his hair, “Goodnight Y/n/n” he mumbled back. We both slowly drifted off to sleep, hoping Nick and Matt wouldn’t come check on us when they get home later.

All work is subject to copyright

©Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2023

Do not steal, use, or reupload my work

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[lifebeginsbyleaving]

The Cards We're Dealt

A.N. This is for sterek week. @sterekweek-2024 Prompts tarot cards and dealer's choice (the second one I definitely took too literally lol) Hope you enjoy! :) Oh and this is only part one, part two is hopefully out tomorrow.

Word count: 9,668

***

Whether you play fast and loose, bet it all, or are simply looking for an answer the cards always deal their own fate. 

Derek knows there's no such thing as luck. 

Stiles knows there's no use in trying to change fate. Derek has been a dealer for long enough to have learned the house always wins, but even try as he might to find some trick behind Stiles' tarot reading his warnings ring true and he can't see a single tell in his eyes. 

Stiles' fingers have always found the right card, but what if this tangle with fate is less about reading it and more about following it.

Sometimes you just have to play the hand you're dealt, even if you pull the death card for your future.

****

The table creaked and thudded as it ominously rocked back and forth, the candles flickered in the chilly gusts of wind, the table cloth rustled delicately as the various strings of beads harshly swung and jangled together. Stiles' eyes were rolling back into his head as his nails harshly dug into the plush velvet table. 

"She has a message for you." Stiles gasped out as if he was being choked, his voice strained. The veins on his neck bulged to the point of almost being able to see his heartbeat. 

The man had wide fearful eyes filled with tears and yet he sounded hopeful when he pleaded, "Yes, yes? What is it?!" He was crumpling the brochure that Stiles had given him at the beginning of the reading with trembling hands. 

"Sh-she says, she misses you. And she doesn't want- d-doesn't want you to... To worry. And she told me to tell you how much she loves you." Stiles gasped in a big breath at the end of his sentence and his eyes were starting to come back into focus as the tension slowly was leaving his nails. 

"Wait!  She didn't say anything else?" 

Stiles not only rolled his eyes back into his head with a jolt, but also rolled them sarcastically in his head. "She- oh no I think I'm going to lose her! Wait, no- She says add more spices. Double the amount of cumin and it'll taste like her recipe." Finally Stiles let all the tension over his entire body go and he collapsed forward on to the table. 

The man was freely weeping now. "Oh thank you! Oh thank you! You don't know what you've done for me!" The man reached over to vigorously shake Stiles' hand once he had perked up a bit. 

Stiles mopped some sweat from his brow. "Yes. It is so very draining, but my exhausting work must be done to help lost souls just like you." Stiles hated this part, why couldn't they just pay and leave. "It's not often I get such a strong connection." Stiles faked a loud yawn. "I get so tired after channeling a spirit as wonderful and filled with love such as your grandmother." 

The man came back to himself a bit before he replied, "Yes, of course. I should let you rest. You said one fifty?" 

Stiles nodded and added a tired slow blink as he yawned out, "Tips are always appreciated."

The man looked down at his Versace wallet and pulled out two crisp one hundred dollar bills. "Thank you so much The Magnificent Mieczyslaw." 

Stiles inwardly cringed as the man butchered the name. "Mitch is just fine." 

The man smiled and once again wrestled Stiles' hand into something more akin to someone fighting a snake to the death rather than a hand shake. "Thank you. The Magnificent Mitch. I just needed her to tell me she was okay." The man looked over his shoulder twice and each time Stiles waved vigorously while yawning. 

Finally Stiles let out a sigh after hearing the bell to his shop ring. He reached over to grab his tea from the side table to move it on to the one in front of him. As he took a sip he grimaced at the cold temperature. The man had blathered on endlessly about his ninety-four year old grandmother. Stiles decided to put his cards back in order then go make a fresh cup. He shuffled them mindlessly when two cards fell before him. He picked them up ready to shove them in the pack with the rest when he noticed they were both major arcana. 

The Lovers card was absolutely beautiful. It was drawn in a dreamlike summer haze of a scene. A calm peaceful forest with two sapling trees grew intertwined in front of a calm lake, and in the lake a lover gently held his beloved up letting her float looking at the clouds above. His bright red shirt and her electric blue eyes pulled focus from the other softer elements, but the two running wolf shaped clouds she was staring out could still be discerned if you stared long enough. 

Stiles' eyes barely widened, but the shock still pulled the tender smile from his face as he stared into the steely red gaze of The Devil card. It had gnarled twisted horns and its mouth was open in a scream of anger as the teeth and fangs jutted this way and that.  The card seemed to have a sense of motion from the way its saliva trailed midair all the way back to where its head was thrown back maw open wide. Its throat and jaw was tensed with such a strength Stiles' rubbed his own and he couldn't tell if it was subconsciously because he winced in sympathetic pain, or if he was trying to protect his own skin. The claws on this nightmare seemed more powerful than sharp, they didn't come to a cartoonish point. They did however, remind him of when he'd heard someone say that a sharp knife will cut through skin like butter, but a dull one will tear and gouge out the flesh ripping the sinew out of place instead of snipping. Streets were ablaze behind this behemoth and charred bodies laid all around. 

Stiles jolted out of the world of the card as he felt a sinking in his chest and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He regained himself and breathed in and out to center himself before calling out, "Would you like for me to pull you some cards? See what your fate has for you?" 

There was a silent pause. 

Stiles sighed and muttered under his breath, "Other than skulking around." He increased his volume so the stranger could hear, "And not using my front door, which is quite rude you know." Stiles heard the curtain that separated the waiting area from the back rustle open. 

"We did use the front door. And I wasn't skulking." 

Stiles flung his gaze back up carelessly to where the stranger was entering and his jaw promptly dropped the retort he had prepared rolling out of both his mind and mouth. Standing in front of him was the most gorgeous man Stiles had ever seen. He was sharply dressed in a double breasted black peacoat and tan slacks, but his shoes matched his coat's shiny black buttons. His beard was very well taken care of and short enough it had to be a bitch to maintain. His hair was neatly groomed into a close fade on the sides while the top was a bit longer. Stiles got the sense it was just on that borderline where it was long enough a couple strands would delicately flop down and the man's strong looking fingers would have to comb through it to get it back into place. Stiles wanted to volunteer to help next time it happened, or at the very least feel those fingers himself. His mind flailed for something to say as the man entered his tent. "Actually you can come in my back door." 

The stranger's face scrunched up into some unpleasant emotion that Stiles couldn't figure out as he was busy processing what had come out of his mouth. "Wow I'm glad you try and hit on your clients before they reveal how broken and vulnerable they are and don't just wait until after you take their money." 

"Oh. God. That was out loud. I said that out loud with my mouth hole." Stiles was mortified. 

Stiles was just about to cover his face in shame when a man he did recognize came in right behind the stranger. "Now boys, please at least let me introduce you both before you jump each other. Stiles, this is my nephew Derek. Derek, this charmer is Stiles." 

Peter was often in need of his services and at least a third of the reason he could even afford to get the shop. He didn't need to be offending one of his clients with the deepest pockets. Peter took his family's money and used it to open a casino and happened to hit it big. He also had the most fortunate habit of getting in the sort of trouble Stiles' skills knew how to solve.  "Peter, I told you if you ever need an appointment you can call. I hope you didn't wait long. I would've cleared the day for you." Stiles tried to recollect his composure and professionalism. 

Peter swanned in and plopped gracefully down in a chair like he always did, but this time he chose the one more off to the side instead of directly in front of Stiles before he replied, "Nonsense. Besides, I wanted Derek to see what you can do." 

The stranger, Derek, scoffed, "Right. It was so important for me to see that poor sucker get scammed worse than people taking their pictures with the characters on the strip." 

It was Stiles' turn to scoff. "I helped him." 

Derek raised an eyebrow, "By scamming him using his dead grandmother? That's pretty low if you ask me. If you'd ever lost anyone you'd know what it's like to want to give anything you have just to hear from them one last time." Derek turned towards Peter before speaking again, "This guy? You brought me to this hack for help?" 

Derek went to walk out of the tent but Stiles interrupted his gait with an irritated tone, "I did help him." 

Derek turned around and crossed his arms right in front of the opening. "How do you figure? By taking his money? Fooling him?" 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yes dumbass. Look, that man didn't need me to tell him about how he just needs to move on and not be so desperate. He needed to believe in magic for a moment, to hear from his grandmother. He certainly didn't need the money, but he did need to feel like she was safe and passed on okay. He needed that so he could feel okay. Believe, don't believe it doesn't matter. What matters is that he can sleep at night." 

Derek had softened his posture some, but his arms stayed resolutely crossed. "Can you? Knowing you lie and take their money?" 

This was the easiest question he answered all the time. "Yes. Because if I have the choice between lying to someone about someone who has passed or a decision they had to make to ease their pain a little, or telling them the ugly truth that only hurts I'm going to make them feel better. Besides, only the people that want to feel better come to me." 

Stiles looked at Peter's shit eating grin. Stiles squinted at Peter. There was something in the way Peter was looking at Derek that made Stiles feel like he was missing something. Stiles turned his eyes back to Derek and looked him up and down this time with what Scott and his clients called his 'other gaze', but it was really just him looking for clues. Derek tapped his finger against his bicep while he stared down Stiles' intent searching. 

Stiles finally felt like he grasped what Peter was smirking about. "And where do you work?" 

It was the first time Stiles felt like he caught Derek on the off foot. His eyes went steely and his jaw clenched, it made the muscle in his neck clench. Stiles wanted to lick it. Derek spat out, "I hardly see how that matters." 

Stiles grinned. "Oh what do we have here, hmmm?" Stiles tapped his own cheek, he enjoyed making Derek squirm immensely. "A partner or just a spoiled rich kid living off of family money would make you complicit enough, but no it's deeper than that. Not a bartender, you'd get hit on too much and murder someone." Derek narrowed his eyes, but Peter was gleaming with glee. "You don't seem like the behind the scenes number crunching type, and with a face like that it'd be a crime. No you're up close and dirty." Even with him standing across the room and Peter still there Stiles liked the effect he could barely tell he was having on Derek. "Oh no, please tell me-" Stiles didn't even try to stifle his laugh. "You're trying to lecture me about morals and taking advantage of people when they're down and you're a fucking dealer at your family's casino?" 

Derek's face turned sour and Stiles let out a belly laugh. Peter even chuckled slightly. Derek uncrossed his arms and kept his clenched fists by his sides as he stalked closer. He leaned over the table and felt the heat from the candle streaming up to his chin. "I don't use people's dead families to get a buck." 

Stiles sobered at that cutting remark. "No. You use their alive ones." Stiles interrupted Derek's attempt at a rebuttal, "Oh come on, how many 'just one more hand' men walk up to your table leaving behind little girls asking for ponies and wives just begging to not take the money that puts food on the table? How many elderly women are just looking for someone to talk to and something to do and instead gamble away their grandkids college or trusts? I won't pretend like either of us don't take money from vulnerable people, but can we both agree that they're willing to give it. And in a lot of cases they need to give it, even if it only helps temporarily." Stiles tilted his head and raised his eyebrows looking for some form of agreement from the other man. 

Derek merely squinted his eyes and leaned back upright. 

Stiles, ever the bigger person, would accept that. Also he literally couldn't afford to lose Peter as a client. "Now how can I be of service?" He pointedly looked away from Derek and to Peter. 

Peter shrugged and motioned back to Derek. "It's his problem, his story. As much as I love talking with you Stiles." Peter put a hand over his heart. 

That made Stiles smile and roll his eyes considering the first time Peter and him had talked it went much worse than this. Stiles had stabbed him. Stiles looked back at Derek.

A moment of silence later Stiles grabbed for his cards. "How about I give you a free reading to break the ice." 

Derek huffed and crossed his arms again. 

Stiles groaned out, "Oh come on tall, dark, and broody! If Peter brought you here it doesn't matter how much of a hack you think I am, I can help. Sit down and let me read you, then we can move on to giving you the help you so desperately need." 

Derek reluctantly flung the chair back and slammed down into it while making a gesture that Stiles chose to interpret as, 'Oh please help me! Take all the time you need. You're so gracious.' instead of it's more probable meaning of, 'Let's get this over with.'

Stiles began shuffling the cards and took a deep breath to focus and Derek rolled his eyes. 

Stiles huffed out, "Dude, come on. This isn't going to help anyone if you can't even get over the way I breathe." 

Derek started to unbutton his coat. "I just don't think someone holding the key to my future would say dude like a teenager playing Fortnite." 

Stiles got a lot of flack for not being an eighty year old Romani woman so he let it go while doing a couple regular and then reverse shuffles. He slid out the cards in front of Derek in one swift move. 

"I know that trick too." If Derek could look more unimpressed it would surely be record breaking. 

Stiles' head fell to the table and then he whipped it back up to glare at Peter. "God, why did you even bring him here he's such an asshole!" 

Stiles muttered mostly to himself, "That's not even my trick yet." When he turned back to Derek he looked a bit shocked at Stiles' outburst. Almost as if he'd never been called an asshole before, but Stiles knew without a shadow of a doubt that wasn't true. 

"Pick three." Stiles crossed his arms as Derek draped his coat over the back of his chair. 

"Do I have to think about it?" Derek still looked like he'd rather be stepping in dog poop right about now. 

"Nothing so strenuous. Wouldn't want to wrinkle those eyebrows anymore than they already are. Just choose. The cards will call to you." 

Another eyeroll and Derek snatched out three random cards. 

He was about to turn them over when Stiles interjected, "Oh wait, no don't turn them over. That's for me to do." 

Derek stared flatly before setting the card back down.  

"This is just your basic past, present, future spread to get you started." Stiles flipped over the first card. "I'm sure pop culture hasn't failed you so much that you don't know we start with your past." Stiles looked at the card and grimaced. There was a man pierced nine times with swords pinning him down to the ground and another blade jutting up through his heart. The sword blade side pointing to the sky through the body was the only one that had a curved shaft, much like a scimitar. Ten different swords at all angles each causing the anguished look on his face. The battlefield beneath him was more blood than grass, however from the top of the hill his body rested on past all the blazing bodies you could see a vibrant sunrise off in the distance. The man's long limp hand was still gripping the sword stabbed into his heart as if trying to undo the damage done. 

"So do I have to read my own tarot, or are you going to get to it sometime today?" Derek snarked. 

Stiles blew air through his nose at him and started to speak, "Ten of swords. This is a card that shows not just pain, but utter devastation. I'm sorry for all that you've gone through. I can only ima-" 

"You've met Peter before. The family fire was all over the newspapers, only one search away. If you want to use my dead family to trick me you're going to have to try harder." His tone was sharp and cold even as he tried for flippant and his eyes shot icicles directly at him. Derek twitched like he might leave based on Stiles' response. 

Stiles looked to Peter almost as if he was asking permission. Peter nodded. "Do it Stiles." 

Derek hated being looked at with pity, but at least for once he didn't think it was because of his dead family. Stiles almost looked like he was pitying him for what he was about to say. 

"Swords in general mean pain, loss, suffering. The ten in particular means hitting bottom, destruction, failure, feeling stabbed in the back. It can mean betrayal by those closest to you. In your past you were betrayed and it caused the worst day of your life. Your downfall came from your heart and the very one you trusted to safeguard all that was precious to you drove it to ruin instead." Stiles paused to look up at Derek. 

If his earlier demeanor had been chilly icicles now his gaze turned to thawed spring pools. He wasn't on guard anymore, but it was just as dangerous. The vast changing depth of the emotion showed in Derek's eyes made Stiles want to dive in till he drowned. He had never had a reading feel like this before. Something about Derek's eyes felt like he was being read right back, every tell every twitch being examined. Just as easily as the warmth had shown itself it was gone. 

Stiles continued, "But a lot of the swords cards portray loss and defeat. The ten of swords is more specific. It can mean new horizons, it can mean a fresh hope, and the end of a cycle. Ten specifically is the darkest hour before dawn has come. This card tells me you're ready to move on, never forget, but to move forward and truly honor those you've lost by living the way they would want you to." 

Derek had a sharp retort that he wanted to fling back at Stiles but it died on his tongue. No one knew about Kate, except Peter, and he wouldn't be calmly reading a magazine to the side if Stiles had just blurted out that he told him. Maybe a year ago or hell even a few months ago he would've bitten Stiles' head off and stormed out, but he'd been calmer since he moved back to Beacon Hills. The job and being close to Peter and Cora had helped. He knew Laura was just a phone call away and he'd always be grateful for his time with her in New York afterwards, but Beacon Hills was his home. He knew that deep down in his bones even if he didn't quite feel at home just yet. 

"Read the next card." Derek demanded.

Stiles was already flipping it over. There was a group of young saplings in a field. It looked as if a great storm had passed through, branches were strewn about the ground and even some of the trees uprooted.  "Your present. The page of wands, but it was drawn in reverse. This can represent strangers thrust into our lives. Often with the pages cards it has to do with some sort of mentorship or student, learning or growth in some capacity. Drawing it in reverse means something has gone wrong with this apprenticeship. Sometimes a reversed page means foolhardiness, recklessness, or even impulsivity. You're dealing with a situation that is causing you much strife and worry. The trees you've planted have been uprooted or thrashed in some way and you fear it is your fault. This card seeks to tell you it isn't your fault, but still your responsibility. You planted the seeds and tended to them, but you cannot control the storms that come, and even more difficult to accept, you cannot weather them for your pupils." Derek's face was an unreadable wall that made even Stiles question if he was way off. "Do you have anyone you're mentoring right now, or someone who has aligned with your path only to stray." 

Derek replied with no emotion. "You could say that." 

His indifference pissed Stiles off. He was really trying here and this dude couldn't care less. He was going to have to have a talk with Peter about bringing in hot men that were determined to look at him like the dirt under his shoe. Stiles trudged on, "Okay, final card. The moon. Huh, well that sucks." 

Derek leaned in and asked quickly, "What? Why does that suck?" 

A little part of him felt the victory in that, but he shoved it down knowing Derek would leave if Stiles showed that he thought he had won. 

"It sucks because it's an elusive card. It's hard to get an answer out of a moon card. The future is still fluctuating for you." Stiles picked up the card to study it closer. The most prominent thing in the card was of course the moon, but there was a smaller moon reflected in a river. The flow of the river bisected the card on one side there was a family camping next to a roaring campfire and on the other a solitary wolf with red eyes. There was a harsh breeze blowing through the woods on the side of the wolf, but a raven was gently gliding in the canopy above the joyful family. This card confused him, and that rarely happened when he did an actual reading. 

Stiles attempted to pull it all together. "There are a lot of female moon goddesses, this card can hint at women's health, and cycles. All in all this can be a very feminine card, maybe a mysterious or obscured from you woman is trying to warn you or lie to you. I don't know. This card also represents cycles, what we begin we are doomed to repeat, but also that good and evil, dark and light never truly go away they just have phases. There are dark sides to the moon, but also a brightness that we must remember isn't always the time to grasp for just yet." 

Derek's arms crossed once again. "A woman that is either trying to help me or lie to me? So you're just seeing a woman in my future, you don't know jack shit about what she's actually there to do?" 

Stiles huffed. "Look, it's difficult sometimes." He studied all three cards this time looking to unlock the final one. "It's a major arcana so it's important. Look, see? The ten of swords is an elemental card of air, but the battlefield was covered in fire. The page of wands is an elemental card of fire, but the trees were bashed by wind. That could hint towards the feedback loop of your past and present, your inability to let go. Then the moon card is water based, in this card there remains the elements of wind, moving the trees and fire in the campsite, but water takes up a majority of the space. Water is cleansing, healing, restorative. There is the destruction and pain of the fire present as well as the change and motion of wind, but for your future it's important to stay mailable and looking to where the river takes you, not where it's been. There's two sides to this card one holding elements of your past card and one holding present. This could imply that sooner rather than later you're going to have to make a choice between the two. The lone wolf poses a danger to the family and the family poses a danger to the lone wolf. One must triumph over the other, but the moon does not tell me which choice you make. It only tells me that you and you alone must choose." 

Derek soaked all of the confusing information in. "So I assume the family around the fire represents my past, and the lone wolf my present?" 

Stiles considered it before answering. "Not necessarily, it could mean the opposite. Remember your past card was air element like the wind above the lone wolf, and then your present was fire element. Also there's a raven in the corner above the family. Raven's represent many things across cultures. Absolute power in Nordic traditions due to their allegiance with Odin, they became a very prominent harbinger of death and murder in the victorian era, and in many cultures represent occult and the knowledge it holds." 

"So which is the bird in this case?" Derek asked. 

Stiles looked very somber for a moment before replying in a serious tone. "I've already given you the answer." Stiles dropped the mystic act and cocked a brow at him. "What part of your future is fucking elusive bro and I don't know didn't register with you." 

Derek's mouth gaped in shock. He banged the table and thrust out an open palm towards Stiles. "This is literally your job!" He looked towards Peter. "You're paying him to talk like this to you?!" 

Peter chuckled. "No, right now I'm paying him to talk like this to you."

Derek pulled both of his hands towards his face to cover them with a harsh slap. The moon card had fluttered over onto it's backside with the frenetic movement. 

Stiles quirked his lips at the card and squinted his eyes. He flipped it back over gently.

It was like a completely different card. The moon still hung prominent, but instead of a bright blue river it was stained red. Equally the wolf's previously crimson eyes had turned blue and instead of the pensive look the wolf's maw was lifted in what looked like a baleful howl. The wind was still in the trees. The family was nowhere in sight around the campfire which had turned to just embers. A crossbow bolt held the raven against a great oak tree as its blood seeped down the trunk. The blood trail lead to the river. Stiles didn't know if it was just harder to see the silver against the shiny blue water that was there before, but he hadn't seen the sword at the river bed before. A long curved blade rested at the bottom of the blood stained water taking all of the focus the moon had held before. 

Derek put his palms on the table to push himself up. His chair made an awful noise as it was pushed back. "I'm done with this. You had me for a second, but you lost me." 

Peter started to protest, but before he could get anything out Stiles' hand whipped out and grabbed one of Derek's wrists where it was pulling away from the table. Stiles spoke hoarsely. "Derek. Look at the card." 

Derek's eyes moved in-between Stiles' eyes and where he gripped his wrist. When he saw that he wasn't taking his hand off he huffed and contemplated prying off his fingers. For such a scrawny dude he had quite the grip. Derek bit the bullet and just looked down. He frowned at the changed card. 

Stiles removed his hand to move his past and future cards closer together. He pointed out the heart sword and then the one at the bottom of the river, the same sword. "Derek she's back." 

That seemed to rattle Derek, because the surprise when he looked back up to Stiles was plainly written on his face. Stiles' eyes had glossed over with a milky white moving haze. "She's coming and she will kill them. I sent you the bird. Don't be a featherbrain." 

If surprise was on his face before, now Derek's face showed utter shock. "How did you know that?!" 

Stiles' eyes slowly went from milkshake back to whiskey and with one final blink he was back in control with the moment. "Your mother. She used to call you that sometimes because when you were five you got really angry and called her a feather brain instead of bird brain. It was one of her favorite memories of you." Stiles smiled softly. "She was beautiful." 

Derek looked distrustful even still. "How did you-"

"Do that? Know that? I didn't. When you're as sensitive as I am to divination magic something as simple as telling someone's fortune can bring to life spirits around them that haven't passed on full or are pulled back."

Derek's face showed sorrow. "My mother hasn't passed on fully?" 

There was that pity written all over Stiles' face again. "You think you're the only one that pays the price for the pain you can't let go of? Mercy isn't earned Derek, otherwise your mother would be at rest, it's given. I can tell from not only your past card, but in everything you present to the world your grief defines you. It limits you. It confines you. It is the only thing that holds you here. It is your only anchor in an unsure world, one that holds you back rather than holds you down. The cards tell you you are doomed to repeat the cycle of grief and despair if you cannot let it go." 

Derek looked gutted hearing he'd been the cause of his mother's wakeful sleep. 

"It's not painful." Stiles lied. 

Derek looked at him fully disbelieving. 

Stiles sighed knowing he shouldn't have tried to lie to a werewolf. "Not physically. But if she can sense how lost her son has been without her it can be harmful. I've given her a sort of temporary rest for now." Stiles left out the part about how Peter had been using Talia's spirit for various side projects so he was familiar with putting her on ice. He got the sense this made Derek uncomfortable and he didn't know what to do with the various revelations he'd had. "Now that we've got all of that pesky disbelief out of the way let's get to the meat and potatoes. Why are you here?" 

Derek once again slumped into the chair, but this time with much less irritation and more acceptance. "Two of my pack- err friends are missing." 

Stiles rolled his eyes at the half cocked cover up. "You can say pack I know you're a werewolf. Also dude you just saw my eyes go into twenty seven year old shitzu mode, I think we're passed the me not knowing about the supernatural point." 

"Do you have to be such a smartass? They're not pack." 

"If you want a monotone no nonsense fortune get chinese food or I think the bowling alley might still have a Zoltar machine." Stiles saw the barest hint of a smile after that one and he couldn't help the way his stomach jumped. Stiles continued while trying to repress his glee, "How long ago did they go missing? What do you want to know? Where they are? Who took them? Are they alive?" 

"Two weeks. We got into a fight so I thought they were just cooling off." Derek looked guilty. "I should've known." 

Stiles reached out where Derek had his hand on the table. "I don't even always know, and it's literally my job." 

Derek pulled his hand back. "Yes. To your earlier question. I want to know all of them." 

Stiles shook his head. "You get one." 

Derek waved his hand dismissively. "Money is no object. I need to find them. They're my responsibility." 

Stiles looked regretful. "Amazing I am, all powerful? Sadly no. You get one, not I'm giving you one." 

Derek nodded understanding and then fell silent. He looked to Peter after a moment who seemingly understood his nonverbal request. 

"I'd ask if they were alive. No need looking for a dead racehorse." 

Derek gave Peter a less than thrilled look. While Stiles scoffed and replied, "Peter! That's so rude. Stop pretending to be heartless otherwise one of these days we'll believe you." He turned to Derek. "One question. Take your time." 

The gentle noises of his shop filled the silence as Derek looked deep in thought. Stiles patiently waited. Derek finally spoke, "I want to know where. Where are they, how do I get to them?" 

Stiles shook his head. "Where they are might not necessarily be how you get to them. That's two questions." 

Derek's fists balled and he caught the barest hint of fangs in his snarl. "How is that two! How will I get to them if I don't know where they are?!"

Stiles spent most of his day to day with the supernatural. He was used to supernatural beings asking him for help, used to being around them in desperate times. Although he had magic, it was divination based. More often than he'd like he was at the mercy of raging upset people with the ability to kill him only equipped with answers they came for but still didn't want to hear. Stiles recognized the wild look in Derek's eyes. The desperation, despair, and rage were there, but also an overwhelming guilt. Normally that cocktail had his eyes flashing white hours before so he knew to call Scott to help, but this time he felt something strange. His magic didn't warn him against, it almost thrummed him towards. 

In these situations Stiles had lost count of the times visions had saved his life. However, this flash of his eyes thrust him backwards instead of forward. 

He was in his father's backyard, but not how it is, how it was. Stiles took a step, but stopped to look down. He was barefoot. The warm soft summer grass tickled and pillowed his feet. It was almost dreamlike even though Stiles knew that wasn't how this worked, this was real. He heard a sharp shriek and looked back up towards the yard. 

A little brown haired boy screamed in joy as he ran towards something. His mother. 

Her bright beautiful smile was stretched wide with pure joy. She held her arms wide open from where she was sat on the delicate fluffy grass. It brought tears to his eyes. She was so beautiful. This moment was beautiful, however he knew what happened next. Not because of his abilities, but because he had lived it. 

He heard a growl and even as he tried to turn he only saw a flash of grey. He couldn't see it now, he hadn't seen it the first time. 

Stiles had long since killed the urge to try and call out or change things in his visions, but tears did sting his eyes at the ruined memory. It always hurt to see how much she had loved him before. Once again Stiles' childlike shriek sliced the air, but this time pain filled. The dog had crossed the yard faster than his mother could get up. His jaws sank into Stiles' chubby kid like calf and a sharp stinging had both sets of Stiles' now tear filled eyes looking down at their respective legs. His leg had the marks, blood, and pain but the dog was only attached to his younger self. 

Hearing his mother scream for his father he looked to where she now had them separated and the dog bit at her ankles. Fat tears ran from Stiles' eyes before he buried his pain stricken face into his mother's neck. 

Stiles knew what happened next. His father came barreling out, the owner ran up, his mother yelled, and his father calmed everyone down. He didn't need to see anything else, frankly he didn't remember anything else other than going to the hospital and crying. 

Yet he lingered. 

He saw his father collect information from the man with his hand on Claudia's back. He tuned out of their conversation to look back at her. She wore a look he'd seen many times, but never on his mother. She was terrified. Not of the now calmed dog, or what had just happened. He searched her face, but only came up with fear. 

His mother had always been an avid animal lover, but after this moment she had changed. Something about it had scarred her. He was never allowed to get a dog, not even allowed to bring it up. Why had this moment scared her so much? 

Realization struck him like a ton of bricks as his body exploded in pain. He felt pulled and thrashed as he was assaulted from all angles by phantom fangs. He shouted in pain as the blood ran from the dozens of bite marks menacing his body. He looked at his brutalized limbs and then back up. 

Gone was the scene in front of him. Only pitch black and grass remained along with his mother empty handed. She was staring right at him. She looked at all the blood but this time there was no yell or movement towards him. She had a blank face, she only tilted her head. 

Stiles had figured out why she had been so scared. That moment was the first time she hasn't divined something bad before it had happened to him. It was the first time her magic failed her. 

Stiles looked back to his wounds then to his apathetic mother. 

"Someone has to care Stiles. Tread lightly you know not what the devil will bring to your door if you invite him in." 

Stiles pushed down the frustration at how vague his vision had been as he was thrust back to the current moment. Not a second had passed, Derek was still as irritated as he has been. "I need to know where they are!"

The memory he had just experienced softened him in a way he never was with clients, much less new ones that hated him. He gently placed a hand on Derek's fist. 

"You feel responsible. We can't claim others blame for a harm that if within our power we would've prevented. Blame is a terrible mistress. The longer you blame yourself the more she gets away with. It makes you rash and impulsive. Your friends are not just lost or gone, they are guarded against you. An unsteady hand cannot unlock even with the right key." 

Derek looked taken aback and yet a shutter of calm rattled through his physicality. He took a breath. "I changed my mind. How do I get to them?"

Stiles once again shuffled the deck, but this time arranged five cards with a measured grace. He put the first four in a square formation and then filled the middle with the last card. They looked like the dots on the five face of a die spread out in front of Derek. Stiles flipped the first card in the top left corner of the square from Derek's point of view. 

The magician. Stiles frowned at the card. His tarot deck was magic in more ways than one. Mostly they were just a focus for his divination magic, but they changed to suit the person and what he was divining for them. Sometimes the pictures even moved, or like it had before, changed images mid reading. This had never happened before though. Normally when he pulled the magician card for someone else it looked either like a legendary witch or like his mystic persona. This was an image of him in his kitchen looking down into a mug of tea. The scene was very intimate and domestic. There were swirls of his magic that cleaned his kitchen and he was just in his Batman PJ bottoms. His hair was sleep ruffled. There would be no mistake. 

"It's me?" Stiles sounded puzzled. 

"Well yeah I assume you painted the deck. A bit pretentious to paint yourself. What does it mean?" Derek asked impatiently. 

"It means me." Stiles pushed out even though he still sounded so unsure. "Not just magic or magic user, this card means me."

Peter piped up, "Well that makes sense. We came here, you're the first step on his journey. Yada yada." 

Stiles shook his head filled with unease. "No this means me. Like me, me. Something I do or tell you, not the reading. The reading speaks for itself, and this is saying my name." 

Stiles moved to flip the next card but Derek put his hand over his. "Whoa whoa, what does it mean though? Do the thing like you did with the others." 

Stiles shook both his head and Derek's hand off of his own. "No. I don't know yet." Stiles felt an unease fill his stomach yet he flipped the next card. 

There was a little boy triumphantly holding two identical sticks up in the air in this card. His proud toothy smile was crowned by bright blonde curls and a cozy knit scarf sat snug around his neck. Behind him laid a crossroads. One long winding path lead to a home and the other back to the woods. 

Derek grabbed at the card hurriedly before showing Peter. "Look familiar?" An edge of worry was in his tone. "This looks like my friend Issac. What does that mean?"

Stiles shrugged. "Two of wands definitely pertains to your question, it's a card of where do I go next. Sometimes the deck draws on what is familiar to you, but it could be a warning. Since we asked such a pointed question I would caution just disregarding it wholly. Maybe bring him with to find your friends." 

Derek looked apprehensive. "I haven't talked to Issac in years. He's in France now." 

Stiles continued, "Maybe it's nothing. The message in this card could be for you. You stand at a crossroad between home and familiar and returning to the woods, the more wild side. Either way this card often has to do with the sadness and loss of having to give something up to pursue a goal or vision. It has to do with dominion over people and the power to control things, but in the same vein an indecision and hesitation." 

Stiles fingers floated over the middle card and went right for the bottom left. They danced for a moment there. "The first two cards were about preparation. What you did do to find them. This, this is how you find them. Where your journey leads." Stiles flipped the card. 

The card was a frenetic animated mess of roots and weaving waving branches. Leaves were fluttering and scattering haphazardly. It was just an ordinary windy forest except for eight thick trunks intricately carved with runic symbols. 

"Eight of wands, haste makes waste, but delay is in poor taste. Timing is everything. This card shows that you need to hurry, but poor planning is the fool's folly. Once you find your confidence to strike there can be no delay, but a fight with mind, body and spirit in tune is necessary as well. This card also can mean being smitten with love due to early depictions of the eight wands looking like cupid's flying arrows. Somehow I doubt that's happening here." Stiles looked up to Derek's face and he was still looking at the cards deep in thought. 

"Oh I don't know, we've got wolf and witch how far stretched is a baby with aim in this moment. After all, unlikely places." Peter teased. 

Stiles flipped the last corner card. 

Similarly to the last card Stiles spotted the runes right away this time and noted they were divining runes on both cards. This time they were carved into branches stuck into the ground like a palisade. All eight of them had the runes, but so did the walking stick the man leaned on. The branches cut off the man from his warring past, and even though there was more carnage ahead of him this was usually a hopeful card. He was bandaged and bleeding, but there was a glint of determination burning in his eyes. Eyes that looked straight at Stiles. 

He had pulled the card in reverse. 

Stiles sucked in a breath and tried to think. 

"Just say it." Derek cut in. 

"Yet another wand card. Wands are cards of action, fire, and decision. It's an urging card. You must do, experience, embody. You've also pulled a lot of cards related to journeys and hard decisions. This one though is usually a very positive card. In reverse it means triumph comes at a great cost if you insist on doing it before you're ready or alone. No warrior alone wins a war and no pain is lessened by feeling it in solitude. This card warns of losing this fight. Of losing what could be precious to you. Of the future you could lose." 

"These aren't helping me figure out where they are." 

Stiles shook his head. "You chose how to get to them." 

Derek huffed in annoyance. "Show me the last one."

Stiles flipped the last card. 

A clearing in the woods created space for the only thing of note in the card. A woman in a cloak with kind whiskey eyes and chestnut hair sat on the ground with an outstretched hand resting on a wolf skull. Small bluebell flowers grew from the eye sockets. 

Once again the overly personal nature of his card's portrayal caused him to pause. Stiles found his words, "This is the death card. Do not judge it. It doesn't represent death itself, it represents the transition to a new phase of life. It's a hard road with one final battle before... Something. I feel a culmination. An answer to the question you've spent a lifetime seeking. How do I get there is your question, but the cards wish to tell you a different answer. The cards say this road leads to pain and loss, but there are two sides of it. Two paths to take. Do you dwell and go back to the pain or do you forge ahead and choose a new beginning? Your choices and actions matter. You alone can choose the future or the past, but your choices have consequences for you and those around you." 

"How is this the way I get to them?" Derek asked.

Stiles sighed. "Unfortunately the cards are not call and answer. They're more ask and the mystical random dude you came to will maybe slightly point you the right way in the dark." 

Derek's annoyance spiked as his patience waned. 

"Hey look dude I gave you the way it's up to you to find it. That's what I got for you take it or leave it man." Stiles set the deck to the side but left the spread. 

Derek stared at all of the cards intensely. "What if I don't figure out what they mean?" 

Peter piped up, "You already know what they mean." 

Stiles pointed a finger over to Peter. "Ding ding. Bingo. Someone's been paying attention on his visits. You win a prize tall, dark, and creepy uncle."

"Is it more time with you, because I already pay your rate for what I want. Well, what I can get from this shop." Peter winked at him. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Your prize is don't get coffee tomorrow morning." 

Peter squinted his eyes. "Noted." 

Stiles turned back to Derek. "Follow your gut. Listen to the cards. Oh also for the love of Weiner dogs, have a plan. But definitely act! Don't wait too long. Oh and unless you..." Stiles trailed off after he realized he wasn't helping. 

Derek stabbed a finger into the cards. "These mean fuck all!" 

"Focus. This isn't where they are. You didn't ask that. This is how you'll get there, the journey. Look at the cards, really look. Not for what you see, but what they could be telling you. We have multiple senses, but our most powerful is our inner sense. What pulls you, what draws your eye." 

"The woods. They seem familiar." 

Stiles nodded. "Good. Familiar how? Have you been there before? Do they feel like home?"

Derek tilted his head. "Like I've been there before." He tapped on the card with the curly haired boy. "Okay say Issac has something to do with this, why is he a kid though?" 

"Did you meet him as a young boy?" Stiles asked. 

Derek shook his head. "I met him about five years ago when he was sixteen. His dad was... Not the best. He needed a safe place and I could help him." 

Stiles studied him as he spoke. "That's not the only reason. I can tell you're a good person, but I can also tell there was something about this boy. Just now you looked sad for him, but not in a sympathetic way. You looked genuinely empathetic. I won't ask what or who, but I just ask that you consider this with an open mind. Maybe he represents something childlike in you. A time you had been lead astray from your path, taken advantage of. A time you needed protection." Stiles could tell from the steely jaw and hard eyes he had made a correct assessment. "Don't linger on those moments, but unfortunately I think something about that situation will point you in the right direction."

Derek gave a curt nod and cleared his throat. "Can I take a picture of these?"

"Of course." 

Peter and Derek both stood up. "We've taken enough of your magnificent time." Peter mocked a bow. 

"Always a pleasure Mr. Hale." Stiles bowed his head back. 

"Um, thanks." Derek stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. "Oh, how do I pay you?" 

"Your second born and a year's subscription to divination doodads magazine." Stiles said.

"Funny." Derek said with a deadpan tone. 

"I know I am, it's my best quality. Dude you just pay me like anyone else credit, debit, cash, I even take Paypal." 

"Debit is fine." Derek took out his wallet as Stiles stepped behind the counter. He punched a few things and Derek swiped his card. Before putting it back he hesitated before speaking,  "You really don't feel bad about this? Charging people to help them?" 

Stiles shrugged. "I gotta eat. Do you feel bad asking poor suckers betting their mortgage payment, black or red?" 

"Yes." Derek confessed. 

"Then of the two of us the one out of balance with their life isn't me. Would you like your receipt?" 

A laugh shocked him as it made it's way out. Derek agreed. "Maybe you're right. No thanks."

"I hope you find them." Stiles said earnestly. 

"Don't you already know?" Derek asked walking to the door. 

"Not how it works. But I do have a feeling you will." Derek seemed the determined type to Stiles. 

"Do I have to pay extra for feelings?" Derek's hand rested on the doorknob, but he waited for Stiles' reply. 

"Nah, I'll give those to you on the house." Stiles smirked at him. 

Derek heard the bell chime and wondered if Stiles had enchanted it. Things long dormant in him fluttered to the surface as he left. 

He would find his friends. Maybe afterwards he could come back to the shop to thank Stiles for his help. Maybe. 

***

Stiles juggled some of the grocery bags to the other hand to knock. It was a long day, a taxing one with the Hale's visit. He was glad it was over. It had been strange having such a personal vision in the middle of a reading. It had thrown off the rest of his day till he decided to close up early and hit the grocery store. Seeing his mom's face filled with such joy had been like a balm on a wound long closed. It didn't heal anything, but it helped the scar stretch. He missed her so much he wished he could revisit that moment when he wanted to, but it was a vision not a mercy. 

The door finally opened and the dagger struck his heart like it always did. A woman with warm whiskey eyes and chestnut hair opened the door surprised. "Stiles, what are you doing here?" 

Stiles took a deep breath in for when his throat inevitability caught. "Hey Ms. Gajos." 

She smiled. "I told you, you can call me Claudia." 

Stiles forced a smile and pushed on. "I really can't, you know that." 

She took some of the bags from him. "Ever the respectful young man. The sheriff sure raised you right. And I told you you don't have to keep bringing me groceries. You and your father have been like mother hens since I fell doing the gutters. It wasn't even that bad and it was months ago." Claudia gestured wildly as she spoke. 

Stiles turned away from her and placed them on the counter. "My mother did a really good job too." Stiles' eyes went glossy but he willed down his emotions. 

He turned back after a moment and she looked lost in thought. "Right of course I'm sure." She looked around confused. "Were we having dinner? You brought over stuff for meatloaf? Are we having meatloaf?" 

Stiles pulled himself together. "No Ms. Gajos. I should go. I'm sorry." Stiles felt the familiar spiral of pain, indulgence, and then finally guilt. 

She looked so upset. "No no, you can stay. I just can't remember. I can't remember something?" She looked at him with lost pleading eyes. "Are we supposed to eat together? Just let me remember what I-what I... Stiles I'm forgetting." 

Stiles started to panic. He grabbed her glasses. "Here. Calm down Ms. Gajos. You're just forgetting your glasses." He held them out hoping he hadn't sent his mom into a spiral. 

Her face got wiped of concern and panic and she smiled. "You're such a sweet boy. You better head home. How silly of me and I'm not even sixty yet. Forgetting my glasses what an old lady thing. I thought I'd be all old and wrinkly and covered in baby powder by that time you know." She snorted. 

"No you're not old. Everybody forgets little things every now and again." He reasoned. 

She turned and cupped his cheek and smiled. "It's good I have a little mischief maker like you around to help me remember." 

"Yeah." His voice croaked. "Bye." He turned and walked to the door without looking back. 

"Drive safe. That jeep is a death trap!" 

Stiles only waved behind. 

He made it to the jeep and threw it into reverse as the tears fell. Seeing her was always hard, but today he'd pushed too much. He wished he could stop visiting, it only upset her. But how do you greive someone who's still there? Neither of them could let her go. The town and doctors thought it was just a bad case of amnesia, but his dad and him both knew. They knew this was a curse. A nasty one, one that Stiles had been trying to figure out for over a decade. 

The curse had made her forget, but the real curse was that they remembered. Knowing didn't make it easier, in fact he so often wished he was the one that forgot. But that wouldn't piece their family together. 

He couldn't help that right now. He could pour over tomes like he did every night, but right now his mind pulled to Derek. That was a unique reading. He didn't feel as in control as he normally did. He wasn't guiding Derek though the cards, the cards guided both of them. Thinking about the strange gruff man brought a smile to his face. He had liked him a lot more than he expected. Derek was as unique as his tarot cards were. Something about him was magnetic and repelling in equal measures. Although he was pretty sure he was rude on purpose. 

Tomorrow was a new day. He could worry about curses and cute boys when he wasn't so exhausted. 

[blakbonnet]

*DRUM ROLL* This AOTW is the podfic edition of our beloved weekend celebration of great artists in this fandom, and our featured artist this week is none other than @lindie-kninjaknitter ✨ If you're a lover of podfics, you've definitely heard at least one of Lindie's 265 fics either on your commute or because their voice is just so calming. Lindie also agreed to answer some questions for me:

Let's start with the technical: what are the programs you use to create your lovely podfics?

I use GarageBand to record with a ShureMV7 microphone, and I use Audacity for processing and post on SoundCloud.

How did you get into podficcing? Is this the first fandom you've tried it for?

I got into podfic making I knew what a podfic was. The story “No One Would Riot For Less” by sacrificethemtothesquid was a retelling of season one from Ed’s POV. I couldn’t put it down. So I recorded into the Voice Memos on my phone so I could take it with me on walks. When I found out that this was something that people do, I asked the author for permission to post and they said yes, and with the encouragement of some generous kind pirates in the comments I recorded more.

What made you fall in love with narrating stories?

This is the only fandom I’ve recorded although after I did a few stories, I auditioned for some books on audible and have recorded two stories there. It was not as rewarding or enjoyable as recording fanfiction. I love that the audio out there helps people in the ways it does. Folks tell me they listen while they do boring tasks or enjoyable art or their commute. I feel like I get to sit in the corner of a room in so many peoples lives, reading these awesome stories and it makes me very happy.

Any tips for beginners who wants to give podficcing a shot?

Tips for beginners! There are some good resources on AO3, the sapphires project, tree change project… These were designed to try to support new podfic makers as well as get those stories to audio. But I think the most important thing is find a story you want to live in! Something you really, really love, and then record it on your phone or whatever you have. I didn’t have a microphone until I started Hell or High Water.

Sound quality wise the two big things you need to do are to get your voice through a recording device and onto your DAW (digital work station – mine is GarageBand) While at the same time, eliminating other noises as much as possible. Echo is not your friend so a bathroom is your worst option… a place with soft walls blankets carpet on the floor in a quiet corner works great. Or a closet.

What is your favourite podfic that you've narrated?

My favorite podfic is which ever one I’m working on right now! There are some I am particularly proud of the vocal performance. Throat G.O.A.T. stands out… Constellationism, Baddy Zaddy have such sense of place! Captive of the Pirate King was the first one in which I really felt part of a community. I’ve made… 260 so far… each one was my favorite as I worked on it!

What are your personal challenges when it comes to narrating podfics?

I always want to do more than I can reasonably actually record. In choosing one it means I’m unchoosing several others.

I have dyslexia… sometimes I cannot get into the flow of reading which is frustrating.

There are some topics and materials I find difficult to narrate. Often that discomfort is offset by many other things that I love about a story and so I will narrate them anyway.

When I am approaching difficult material, I do a lot of journaling. I take breaks. I record sentences in pieces, then stitch it together and I am pretty sure you can’t tell in the finished recording.

We have a wonderful community of narrators who are there to listen and help each other with things like this.

Why OFMD? 🥹

Why OFMD? I think the underlying story of figuring yourself out later in life really appeals to me. I see myself in many of the characters, Ed, Stede, Jim, Izzy, Lucius… This story and the crew have really helped me understand myself better… feel less broken? (Chapter 25 baby!!!) feel less of an outsider? To recognize that parts of myself that I’ve had to tone down my whole life are worthy of being loud about.

Please head on over to @ofmdlovelyletters to leave your love for Lindie 💕

[monkayemporor]

Can you write headcanons of femhiori femkurona femyukimiya (and femkiyora if you write for them if not then just the first 3) with a mele reader asking to do 69 with them.🙇‍♀️💕

69 with Bastard Munchen ladies~ Featuring: Hiori, Kurona, Yukimiya

NOTES: This is DISGUSTINGLY late, but I have to take care of a baby and I had like 5 diff drafts for this. Sadly, I would’ve done kiyora, but I need the bbg to say atleast one sentence. 

MINORS DNI PLEASE

HIORI:

-She first found out about 69 through a hentai game. 

-And with Hiori being into mutual masturbation, she immediately wanted to try it with her dear boyfriend, you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”, you asked for the nth time as your girlfriend had you lying flat on your back.

“Of course I am. It’ll be fun, I promise!”, she assured you.

-But even after hyping yourselves up, the two of you just froze when Hiori finally got in position.

“Soo, do I like, eat you out or something right now?”

“...”

-Don’t worry, you guys eventually got the hang of it, and it quickly became the go-to. 

-Her favorite part is tracing the veins on your cock while you prefer teasing her rim with your tongue.

“Pretty.”, Hiori sighed softly as her nimble fingers trailed up the veins of your cock. Her words were tuned out from you as your tongue lazily licked a strip between her legs. 

“Mmh~”

Despite the sexual mood in the air, your girlfriend couldn’t help but break into light giggles as she gently prodded your shaft, clearly hard. “Didn’t know you were this eager~ Don’t worry, I won’t waste time~”

Just as you were about to retract your tongue, Hiori suddenly took the tip in her mouth, smearing her lips in pre-cum, erecting a visible groan from you. Just as quickly, you grip her thighs and bury your tongue deep in her wet folds.

“Ngh- Fuck…”, she whimpered, her mouth taking more of you as her back slightly arched. Hiori finally reached her limit halfway down your cock and her head started to slowly bob up and down.

You threw your head back onto the pillow, “God, Hiori- Ah~” 

Hiori let go of your cock with a POP and turned her head to look out at you.

“Surely you’re not done already?”

KURONA:

-One word: Teeth. Have you seen her teeth? You can’t change my mind that she doesn’t graze it with her teeth. 

-Which is why she uses her hands during 69. And it’s not even her favorite position. But you love it, so who is she to say no?

-While Kurona might struggle to pump your dick with her hand, you’re having the time of your life holding her sides and messily eating her out. Making the poor girl’s job even harder. 

-In her opinion, she’d rather bite you during sex, but not having her favorite body parts of you exposed to her just makes her sad. :(

-Still, your sharkie girlfriend is pretty good with her hands! 

“Ngh- No more…”, Kurona whimpered as you had her on all fours, elbows propped on either side of your legs. 

You ignored her and instead tightened your grip on the plush of her thighs, keeping her up while you messily ate her out.

At this point, the woman had given up trying to give a handjob and was merely trying to keep herself from squirting all over your face. 

“C’mon baby~”, you teased, giving her ass a slight pinch, “Don’t be shy~” In response, Kurona muffled her whine and shoved her face into a pillow.

More whimpers followed as you mercilessly teased the shorter woman. God, you were so mean! But there was nothing Kurona could do about it…

Suddenly, Kurona found her core tightening, and her little whimpers turned into moans, “Ngh, I-”

As she squirted all over your face, the player gave up and collapsed on your body. And just as Kurona thought it was over, she felt your hands tighten on her body, “We’re not done yet, dear.”

YUKIMIYA:

 -A SWEETHEART 

-Yukimiya doesn’t have anything for our against the position.

-But whenever she’s tired from practice but still in the mood, expect to use it.

-Adores the sight of your cum on her chest after a titjob but hates it when it gets on her glasses, she can’t see you now!

-But she also likes to the way you finger her, going blank when you suddenly pull her off from her knees during a titjob, just to lay on her and jerk her off.

“Come on Kenyu, surely you’re not tired?”

Yukimiya quickly shook her head, her knees bruising from being on the floor for so long as she gave you a titjob.

Your eyebrow perked up and you gently but suddenly brought Yukimiya up to the bed and had her straddle your waist, “How cruel of me, to have you work like that. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you now~”

“It’s fine, I can just-”, she was cut off as you suddenly flipped her onto the bed and crawled on top of her, “Here, let me help.”

As you gave slow and careful licks, delving your tongue into her puffy folds, Yukimiya bit her own tongue but gave up and started to moan shamelessly.

“Hmph- [Name], please-”, she gasped and you couldn’t tell if she was asking for you to stop or give more. But by the way her hands gripped your flesh and how her cunt seemed to be drooling even more, you simply went on

With a smirk, you snuck two fingers into her ass as your tongue greedily slurped up her fluids, “Mhh, how about no?”

NOTES: Working on other requests rn so don’t worry!

[tortoisebore]

any tips for new writers?

(btw i am literally in love with hey, sharpshooter it had me up all night reading it <3)

**disclaimer that i am by no means a person that has any actual real education/experience in writing or character work or world building & i can only give you what has worked for me & the things i’ve kept in mind while writing my little gay fanfiction 💞👯‍♀️

my main big picture tips are not backed up in research, they’re just what’s worked for me:

1. make a deeply detailed outline. spending a lot of time writing a very long, detailed outline at the beginning helped me a lot when i felt stuck in the back half of the fic. the outline changed a lot from when i started it, and i added little notes and ideas for scenes or dialogues or character traits along the way, but all of my big idea generation happened there and it helped me a lot with pacing the plot and building the characters and their relationship gradually. also** it was not some sort of technically perfect, structured outline—this is what it looked like:

fr just get all of your ideas down on a page in whatever way works for you. this is the place to word-dump to your heart’s content!!

2. make the first draft bad. fr just get it in the page. if you’re not feeling it or don’t have any specific word choices in your head when you’re writing the first draft, don’t worry about the dialogue being realistic or having perfect flowery metaphors or beautiful descriptive world building. literally just get it on the page in whatever way you can.

3. connect the dots between the type of writing you like to read and what you like to write. i loveee books with flowery prose and metaphors and natural dialogue, and i found that i really enjoyed writing those things, so they were the goals i focused on while i was doing all my editing/second draft writing. on the flip side, if you like to read extensive world-building but find yourself struggling to find motivation/inspiration to write it, don’t. try to write how you want to write, but put more emphasis on writing how you like to write.

4. don’t force it. this has been crucial to me bc i work a 9-5 in the art/design industry and i only have so much creative energy to go around, so i have to ration it carefully. if you try to force yourself to write when you’re really not feeling it, or when you’re out of motivation and frustrated and tired, it will 100% show in your writing.

5. don’t think about posting your work. for 99% of us, this is a hobby. posting your work is not a hobby, creating it is!! rn we exist in a world where people view creativity and art solely as content to be consumed, and i encourage you to place more emphasis on actually enjoying and finding peace and meaning in the journey of making something rather than the idea of other people consuming it. what it does for you and how it makes you feel is far more important than what it does for the people pressuring you for an update you’re not ready to give them.

and then here are a couple technical/grammatical tips that i learned way back in like 6th grade english or picked up on by reading a million books over the years & still think of constantly:

1. vary your sentence structure!! i am sometimes bad at this and i don’t really pay attention to it in my first drafts, but when i go back and edit i make sure to vary my sentences by length, compound vs. simple, breaking up with semicolons or hyphens, etc. a story that’s written with strong, varied sentence types will read much more naturally and flow better than one that doesn’t

2. be intentional about starting your sentences with different words. again, when i’m writing my first drafts i don’t pay much attention to things like this, but when i’m editing i’m really anal about making sure that my sentences don’t all start with “he” or “[insert name here]” or “it” or whatever. sometimes you can’t work around it, but my goal is to never have two consecutive sentences start with the same word, and i really really try to make sure that two consecutive paragraphs don’t start with the same word

3. say your dialogue out loud. i had the hardest time trying to make my dialogue feel natural at the start but honest to god saying it out loud with all the cadence and emphases you’re writing it with can really help you find ways to make it feel like actual people talking. also, don’t be afraid to use ellipses and hyphens and break up a string of dialogue with an action, like a character sighing or biting the inside of their cheek or moving their hands. people don’t talk in perfectly-structured sentences. we run-on and don’t use punctuation and we restart or hesitate in the middle of a sentence—include that!!

[sinimake]

Some writing tips i use that makes writing less hard

Hope some people might find it helpful idk. Read below.

I always start with dialogues. Arguably, it is the easiest part that advances the plot the most. I write down dialogues with the barest of tags just to indicate who's saying what.

Now, add the tones, movement, and expression into the dialogues tags. Characters gotta deliver the lines somehow and you fill the space between the conversation.

When conversation is happening, internalization must occur. If you're writing from A's pov, and A and B are having a conversation, A gotta listen then reflect on B's words. You don't need to do this after every sentence but it is one of ways you set the pacing of the story. For example, B tells a shocking news to A, A take a moment to absorb the info and think. The internal thought can be from a line to paragraphs and the lenght of it sets the pacing.

Furthermore on the pacing, i personally like to equate the amount of time reader spends on reading to amount of how much they need to linger on the scene. Imagine in a fight scene, you keep the sentences short, to the point, and not complicated to deliver the fast speed of combat. When you lengthen the scene and sentences, you are putting them in a slow motion in midst. So control the pacing with your words.

Now, let's tackle settings and expositions. You can apply the tactics i use in my dialogues, but one golden rule i keep is that i write things readers can't experience first hand. If your characters are playing uno, you don't need to explain the rules in detail. What you need to do is be in the head of your primary character. Don't say winter was cold and snow was falling. You describe how character is feeling the cold on their back, snow is featherlight on their cheeks, etc.

Since we are talking about character pov, let me mention head hopping. Head hopping is where the general pov of chapter changes/hops characters in the midst of the writing. Example: we are reading from A's perspective, and then suddenly, we get a passage on B's inner thoughts, which A should not be aware of. Personally, i find head hopping distasteful. Some people can do it artfully and purposedly, like Stephen King. But if you don't have experience in that style, avoid head hopping like a plague. If the pov is in A, you only show outward emotions and actions of B.

Now you have general direction of the writing, let's add ✨️Character flare✨️. I like to think this is where you, as a writer, really shine and obtain your style. Your character is the essential core of the story, so when you write, the narrative must have their flavor. Percy Jackson series is widely liked because it is so fun to read from his perspective, his humor, and his outlook. If your character is a cop walking down a street, you show the world through their eyes. Are they double-checking dark corners? Or eyeing suspicious looking people? If your character has weird sense of humor, they will probably describe things in obscure details. Go wild with it. If your character is gen z, you can write in their cringy slangs (/j)

Now we have the skeletal of writing done. Till now, don't bother with editing. Only write even if the sentences sound shit. When you're done with base draft, you go back with a critical eye. If you're stuck on a scene, immediately skip. You can come back later with a fresh head space. Perfection is something you should worry about only in the final stage of editing.

Strange tip, but put your font to Comic Sans if you can, you will thank me later. I know it looks so jarring and ugly, but something about it makes the brain go lose on the creativity cork. I was skeptical first too, but it worked on me, and now i have 73k words in 3 months under my belt. *shrug*

And voilà, the very simplified breakdown of writing. Hope you found it somewhat helpful and happy writing everybody 😊 💪✍️

[urmultideadfandomperson]

Hey!! I hope you're having a wonderful day! I just saw that your requests are open and I wanted to request something myself.

How would the ARTW main sorcerers react to summoner being a renowned novel author?

MC is Renowned Novel Author

Character/s: Summoner (MC), Arcturus, Spica, Pollux, Alpheratz, Sirius, Vega

Genre/s: Fluff, Cracks

Warning/s: None

Summary: The Guides discover that Summoner is a famous author back in Mid Eartheim!

Requested by: Anonymous

Note: Hello, anon! Thank you so much for this ask! I sincerely apologize for the long release of this request. The loss of motivation and busy schedules have always been a hassle nowadays! Hopefully this will make it up for the lost time. May you enjoy you read!

Arcturus

Arcky found out when he saw you carrying a typewriter.

He was curious what it was, especially since he is unaware of such an item that belonged in Mid Eartheim.

When you told him about it, he gasps in surprise, eyes sparkling in delight.

He immediately turned into one of your fans, asking questions and getting updates. You were just awesome! The Summoner was a famous author!

If you want, you can let him read your novels. Arcturus' reaction will be overjoyed, honored to be able to read your novels.

This sorcerer will definitely dig down deeper in order to get more information and concepts that were scrapped.

If you like to put plot twists, Arcky would least expect it. You might hear him gasp loudly or see his face change to shock.

If you have a character who is bubbly and a people-pleaser, he will frown in pity and empathy, relating to the character a lot.

If you like tragedy, Arcturus always sobs to it. After reading, he will go through the five stages of grief for the deceased character. You actually broke him with a novel.

But if you write novels with spicy scenes... he cannot handle them very well. Arcturus' face turns red and he cannot bring himself to speak at all.

Overall, he loves you and your novels. He is so lucky to be yours.

"Summoner! I have an idea for your novel! Can I tell you about it?"

Spica

The sorcerer may or may not know what a typewriter is.

Spica deducted that it was used for writing purposes, but he cannot point a finger for what specifically.

So when he discovered you were a novel author, he is both surprised and impressed.

He is a bookworm, himself. He is certain you have done a great job in writing the novels (especially since you're famous back in Mid Eartheim).

Spica is highly honored to be able to read your novels for free! Because, wow. The Summoner is a novelist!

As much as he enjoys the read, there are times where he will suddenly turn into a book critic.

Not that he will insult the book and disgust the characters and writing. Spica will be giving constructive criticism, also giving some tips on how to improve the writing.

Spica will binge read your books if they are an entire series. You cannot stop him.

If you write angst and tragedy, the sorcerer will just silently mourn. He will not cry, he will not scream. He will just be quiet.

If you write spicy scenes, Spica will be a bit flustered. He has read other scenes like this before (ayo?? 🤨📸), so he can handle it. He is one of the professionals he reads smut with a straight face.

And when writer's block attacks you again, Spica will do his best to help you get motivation. But if you need some rest, then he will also help you relax.

"Your writing style is very unique, Summoner. I'll be looking forward for more of your novels,"

Pollux

He found the typewriter. He started to use the typewriter.

Pollux was basically playing around with it, typing on every single letter while making the weirdest sentences ever.

So when you told him that you use to typewriter for work purposes, he got curious. And when you told him that you were a renowned author...

... he immediately stopped.

NO WAY! You use this thing to make books?!

Pollux now treats the typewriter as a sacred item. As if he is going to play around with something to important.

And to avoid breaking it because his bad luck is awful.

Anyway, he will definitely books that has some action and cool fighting scenes. If you do write action novels, this sorcerer is BLESSED.

Being the tsundere he is, Pollux will not admit that he is in love with romance scenes. He says he dislikes romance, and yet he is often found blushing and giggling about it.

If you like to add plot twists in your stories, he will overreact and begin to screech. Then he will rant to you about the entire twist, still in disbelief.

As for the spicy scenes... he fails at keeping calm, always opening and closing the book with a red face. He even almost threw your book at the intense intimacy the characters shared.

"Summoner, summoner! I can't believe you added another plot twist in the part! I need to tell you about it!"

Alpheratz

He was just napping somewhere nearby where you were working. Because of the noise the typewriter creates, his nap was disturbed.

Alpheratz questions you with a grumble why it creates noise, and you tell him that the typewriter is just like that.

And when you finally revealed that you were a well-known author in Mid Eartheim, his eyes shot up and the urge to sleep was gone.

Believe it or not, Alpheratz is actually a bookworm. Not many is aware of this fact, but whenever a book really gets his attention, he will read it.

He likes to ask questions about the book and its concept. Hearing about the unique structure of the novel will get him hyped up to read it more.

Sometimes, he likes to read your novels as bedtime stories. He goes to a certain chapter that is calm like a memory, reads it, and goes to sleep in peace.

If you are letting Spica borrow a certain book and Alpheratz is craving to read it, he will sneak in and snatch the book when Spica is not looking. In the end of the day, Spica will be confused where the novel is while the latter reads it happily.

If you write romance, he would not mind at all. He does not hate romance, though he doesn't really like them either. Alpheratz is neutral with romance.

If you like to write spicy scenes, he is the second sorcerer who can read the novel with a straight face. But when the night arrives... use your imagination~ 😜

The sorcerer enjoys giving ideas like Arcky, though he is calmer. Instead of going to detail, he simply explains the whole picture. He wants you to use his idea to make another novel.

In conclusion, he is in love with your novels. He is blessed by the stars to be able to read your treasures in Mid Eartheim.

"Summoner~... I had a dream in my nap and it was nice. Maybe turn it into a new novel? Don't worry, I won't push.",

Sirius

You already caught his attention not by the typewriter, but by your vocabulary whenever you speak.

Deliberately? Pulchritudinous? Equivocate? Fathom? My, Summoner, those words are very complex.

Sirius somehow knew that you were an author. Maybe because of your use of words? Or perhaps you bring that typewriter everywhere? Could it be that you were a famous novelist in Mid Eartheim? You will never know; it's Sirius, after all.

That does not mean he is not impressed, though. The sorcerer really is surprised! He just does it so casually, you thought he is being nonchalant.

Whenever he reads your book, he gives constructive criticism but... they sound like teasing instead of actual advice.

Sirius is not much of a bookworm. For him, reading is more people who enjoys indoor activities. He does praise your works, though.

But if you write a fantasy novel and it has a map on the page? Oh boy, you might have gotten his interest in that book.

Sirius is neutral in romance. He does not hate it, yet he does not like it either. However, he will dislike it when it includes self-sacrificing because of, well, what happened to Polaris.

And when you write spicy scenes, this man is SHAMELESS!

He will not hesitate to read the book around you, even doing facial expressions and adding sound effects as he reads. As you listen (in embarrassment), Sirius will laugh.

But if you play your cards right when you tease him, you might find yourself seeing Sirius with a flustered expression.

"Summoner, what is this character saying? Their speech to the antagonist is quite bland and monotone, don't you think? Let me show you how it's done,"

Vega

He already knew it was a typewriter when he saw it. However, similar to Spica (if he knows what a typewriter is), Vega cannot point out where it is used for.

Vega is mildly envious at your vocabulary. He speaks very formally, but your way of speaking sounds like you belonged in royalty.

When you finally revealed that you were a famous author back in Mid Eartheim, Vega was so shocked and so proud of you.

It was a vague memory. But in the back of his head, he can remember how you once always dreamed of writing books and let the people read it.

And now that you achieved that dream, Vega is more than happy for more. In fact, he will fully support your career.

The sorcerer always compliments your novels. No matter how old it is, no matter how inexperienced, no matter how bad, he is still proud and impressed in your works. At least you can write something!

If you choose to write a novel about your friendship, Vega will be both happy and uncertain. He is joyous because it is an honor to be written in your novel. But also hesitant, as it brings back bad memories as well.

Either way, Vega is the type of person who will love romance. As a matter of fact, Vega craves romance. The intimacy, the kisses, the beginning of a relationship... it is so beautiful for him, especially if it is with you.

If you enjoy writing angst, Vega actually cries. He tries not to let the tears spill. But when a certain sentence or event happens in the book, he breaks down.

And if you like to write spicy scenes, Vega will use a straight face at first before it eventually turns into a blushing mess. He cannot even look at you in the eyes!

"Why not use these ideas for your new novel, Summoner? Everyone will enjoy it, I am certain. Perhaps I can help?"

[chronicallyonlinewriter]

11 and 18 please!

11.) a WIP you’d like to finish someday? Lmao, all of them. But if I can successfully pull off Silver Springs, I'll be ecstatic. 18.) if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic. I already answered this, but I'll give you another snip - I have 80+ pages worth of deleted scenes and little snippets I never used for GYOW or ALaYF. It's a big part of why I started Everywhere; a lot of what I kept will wind up finding its way into that series, instead. This one is long, so I'll put it under a cut. (Not edited.)

He’d made a lot of assumptions about what he thought his life would be like, at this age. And so far, he’d been proven wrong about almost all of them. 

For a little while he just watched her sleep. Slowly, the world outside of the window changed. The sky lightened, pale gray giving way to a muted pink that shimmered against the bedroom walls, then exploding in a fiery red as the birdsong swelled to its morning crescendo. And still she slept on, eyes twitching beneath their lids, mouth parted slightly. 

He had trouble keeping his hands to himself; found excuses to touch her, sweeping an errant strand of hair away from her cheek and tucking it behind her ear, smoothing the edge of the sheet as it lay rumpled at her shoulder. He knew he had to leave her alone in their bed eventually, but he put it off until he couldn’t anymore; waited until he heard his brother’s bedroom door open, and the telltale sign of the floor groaning beneath his weight as he made his way to the stairs.

Only then did Joel slip out of bed, quietly, slowly, so as not to wake her. He closed the bathroom door with as gentle a <i>click</i> as he could, took the quickest shower he could manage, brushed his teeth with the same ruthless efficiency, and crept around their bedroom aglow in the morning sun with as much stealth as he could muster – but it didn’t matter; she caught him before he could slip his boots on, making a small, breathless sound as he sat on the edge of the bed and tugged them toward him by their laces. He turned to see a groggy pair of hazel eyes blinking back at him, and then reached to place a hand on her bare shoulder when she yawned, and tried to sit up.

“Keep sleepin’,” he told her, his voice soft. “S’early.”

“You don’t have patrol today,” was her mumbled response, though she dropped her head back onto his pillow. 

“I don’t,” he admitted, “but I told Tommy I’d help out at the schoolhouse today. Tryin’ to get that new addition done ‘fore classes start up again.”

“Oh.” Her skin was alight in hues of red and pink, her hair glittering like liquid cold in unruly curls. Again he reached out, brushing it away from her cheek. She closed her eyes when he did, leaning into his touch, her smooth skin so warm against his calloused palm. “Sorry – wouldn’t have kept you up if I knew –”

And to this he couldn’t help himself; he chuckled, leaning down to press his lips firmly against hers, hand lingering on her cheek. “Darlin’,” he told her, nuzzling his nose against hers, “Don’t know what I did to deserve any of it – but you can keep me up with that anytime you like.” 

Just for a moment, he let himself forget the yet-to-be-met demands of the day; he lay next to her fully-clothed, noses touching, just watching her shake off the remnants of sleep – because he couldn’t quite shake away his own nerves, his own memories of how their evening had started. There was a nervous ache that lived under his skin, a question just on the tip of his tongue that he diluted, a quiet “You alright?” meeting her ears instead.

“I’m fine.” And as though to prove it, she grasped his hand, pulling it up to her lips, her kiss a soft caress to his knuckles. “Really,” she insisted, and he realized that he was probably doing a terrible job at hiding his concern, “I’m okay. I just…” And there it was – she faltered, just for a bit, her smile fading. He knew when he came home that afternoon there would be a candle lit on their fireplace mantle, one of her sister’s photos placed next to it; knew that she was going to spend all day mourning that far more of her sister’s birthdays had passed since she died than she’d ever had while alive. “It wasn’t – a distraction,” she said finally. “It wasn’t. I just…I wanted you. That’s all.”

He felt as though he would never understand it, this pull she had toward him; why this vibrant, beautiful woman had settled for him but didn’t see it as settling at all. Didn’t understand how she could ever think that she was the lucky one, this lovely creature lit up in hues of red and gold and smiling at him with eyelashes glittering. She shifted under the sheet, rolled her shoulder as though to rid it of a kink, and he watched as the fabric slid away from her freckled skin; her shoulder, free from covering, exposed to the light. He drifted his fingers over the expanse of her scar, the puckered and pearly ring of teeth marks that were so close to her tiny and faded flower tattoo that just the very tip of its stem was sliced clean through – and as he kissed this, too, as she sighed in contentment.

“Okay,” he told her, because he would do this for her; take her word for it, because she deserved at least that much. “Try to sleep – for me. Alright?”

“Okay.” But he waited for her eyes to close again before he reluctantly slid away from her, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and slowly pulling on his boots, then leaving her alone asleep in the sunshine with his laces still untied. 

His head swam, his joints ached, but the smell of coffee greeted him as he tiredly took the stairs. He was grateful for the sight of his brother standing in the kitchen, twisting the cap closed atop a second metal thermos, and when Joel was close enough he grabbed it and tossed it to him – with far more force than was necessary, though Joel still managed to catch it.

“The hell you got a bug up your ass about?” he demanded, setting the thermos on the kitchen table with a loud thunk. Tommy just rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night,” he said, words laden with acid. “Lotta that goin’ around, I guess.” And for a moment Joel just stood there, exhausted and confused, his patience stretching and wearing thin like a brittle rubber band – and it clicked into place, his brother cocking an eyebrow at him. “I swear – s’like bein’ in Boston all over again, livin’ with two horny teen –” "Okay,” Joel cut him off, his face flushing hot. “Christ, Tommy.”

[ms-demeanor]

Any tips or hacks on how to go about writing the introduction and the conclusion of an academic text? I have finished the body of the text but introductions and conclusions always stump me. The deadline isn't until october but I worry I will piss away the entire summer agonising over how to do this last damn thing.

The simplest advice is "tell 'em what you're gonna tell 'em, tell 'em, tell 'em what you told 'em."

I like to start from an extremely straightforward position on writing introductions and conclusions. I'm writing a paper now about the US healthcare system and my placeholder introduction paragraph is "The US Healthcare system is bad for X, Y, and Z reasons and should be changed." My placeholder conclusion is "Now that I have illustrated that the US Healthcare system is bad in X, Y, and Z, ways, I hope we have all learned something and take A, B, and C steps to change it."

Basically I write out the most basic thing I want to say in each paragraph and then embellish it. Sometimes this will actually lead to restructuring the paper a bit as I organize paragraphs to make sure that X, Y, and Z are in the proper order.

I have more trouble with conclusions than I do with almost any part of a project, but one of the things that has helped me with more academic-y texts is recognizing that if you've done your job properly the reader should know why you're making the argument you're making so you don't have to have a rabble-rousing, inspiring conclusion, you can functionally just say "Hope that clears things up! Here are the implications I want you to leave this paper with and my policy suggestions for the future."

Intros are a little easier for me because I just see them as scene setting. Treat it almost like an abstract, if that helps. "This paper is about this subject, here is my opinion on this subject, here is a brief summary of the evidence that supports my opinion on this subject. Here are some considerations to keep in mind, and here is why I think you should agree with my opinion."

Depending on the norms for the subject your intro can also include a brief history of the scholarship around that subject, biographical matter about a person under discussion, or a short explication of theory. I personally love multi-paragraph intros that spend a while getting me up to speed, but I also read literary criticism recreationally so I may be a bit biased. I would definitely say to find some field-specific papers that you liked and found useful to read and see how they constructed their introductions and conclusions and take some cues on structure from them. You can even go sentence-by-sentence and break down what each sentence is saying in the conclusion of a paper you liked ("As you can see from the previous paragraphs on SUBJECT, there is ample evidence of THESIS. We have responded to counter-arguments by addressing ISSUE and OTHER ISSUE. Our findings support THESIS, and you should agree for REASONS.")

Actually you know what that's my advice to everyone having trouble with intros and conclusions: find some intros and conclusions that you like and turn them into mad libs because that's basically what they are. That's a really good way to practice seeing what parts of your paper are unique (to fit into the blanks) and to figure out the structure of an academic intro or conclusion (the frustrating bit that is difficult to write).

[wetcatspellcaster]

I hope this isn't too personal. If it is, I apologize and you can obviously ignore it! But you've mentioned how there was a period where you were going through some stuff and stopped writing. I had the same thing happen, and things are better (yay for both of us getting through Stuff), but my writing still hasn't come back, and it's been years. I know you said BG3 itself helped bring it back, but did you do anything to help force yourself back into writing mode? Just wondering if you had any tips or anything. Thanks!

hey anon, I'm really sorry to hear that you're struggling to write. I'm going to do my best to answer but I've found writers block to be a highly personal thing so I'm not sure what I did works for everyone!

I've had two periods of writing block - one was years long due to having a high pressure university degree and then general life stuff after (18-26) the other was due to depression and something in a fandom upsetting me to the point where I didn't want to interact anymore.

So the first piece of advice I have is, work out what the root cause of the issue is, and address it! Which sucks! It's basically therapy! It feels very silly to even be advising it. But for my first writers block I realised I was putting too much pressure on myself - I wanted everything I wrote to be Meaningful and Perfect - so I devised the silliest and most entertaining writing project I could ever imagine for myself and got rid of expectation, and this broke through the block entirely. I began thinking of writing as a hobby I do for fun rather than a vocation or future profession, etc. I came to this drug late, so people who've been writing fic for longer probably won't find that novel - but I did! For the second issue, I took a break and then I readjusted how I interact with fandom. I probably seem quite antisocial at times to others, but I've just changed my boundaries to make it so I'm comfortable and so I keep writing. I realised that I didn't like the grounds on which I'd been operating on ao3 so I changed them - the block shifted again.

Often, it's not the writing that you're struggling with, necessarily, it's something else in the mix that's preventing you from doing it. See if you can find out what that is!

The second part of your question is 'how do you force writing back'... I don't think you can, honestly. Placing pressure on yourself, I've found, always backfires. But my advice for getting started writing again after a break is as follows:

Make a really fun project, as silly or cringe or self-indulgent as possible. Something you are genuinely excited about putting down on paper. Something that feeds you specifically. from a favourite maladaptive daydream, to a silly one shot, to a laundry list of all your favourite fictional things.

If you feel like you literally can't write sentences, bullet point something instead. This means that you won't feel guilt about losing the idea you've had, but also i've found that whenever I return to bullet points, it's easier to start writing bc it's not a blank page. Whatever your notes are, I promise they will be useful. If you write them in a low energy time and come back to them at a higher energy time, even better, bc past-you has literally set up a little springboard for you once you have the bandwidth to jump!

Reduce pressure. This one is very personal so it'll seem vague. Reducing pressure could be not publishing anything until it's finished. Reducing pressure could be publishing or sharing with friends immediately, so you get support and motivation to help you keep going and don't feel like you're working alone. Reducing pressure could be to pick the easiest project you have first, so you do something that maybe feels simplistic at the time, but it helps you build confidence for facing more ambitious projects later.

I don't know if any of that is helpful, but I've honestly found that for me, keeping writing as fun as possible has been what allows me to keep doing it. Any time I feel anxiety or stress creeping in, I try to remind myself of that by any means necessary.

[autumnslance]

Hello Autumn! I love your stories! You’ve inspired me to make my OC WoL to write about. The thing is I don’t know where to start? Any tips or advice you could give that could help me get started? Thank you so much!

whoop, meant to post this one earlier and got distracted! But hey; maintenance day.

I found prompt lists are a good place to start; there's all sorts of character ones out there, some for WoL and some generic ones. Even if your answers changes as you write the character, they're handy for noodling out some ideas to get started thinking about who they are and why.

Otherwise, take a look at MSQ itself. Maybe play through it, first time or in New Game+ and take some notes; how does the character feel about this, and why? Not you the player; what about your rough idea of the character's background and personality would make them react to X event or Y person? How? Why? Some will be influenced by your own knowledge of the meta and plot, but there's a lot we can glean by seeing the story as the character experiences those events.

And then we can write about it later.

We all put a bit of ourselves into our characters, we can't really help that; they are reflections of our thoughts and experiences, even when quite different from us. A "successful" OC, In My Opinion, is one that you start to realize would do or say things you never initially intended, but it's the right course of action for them.

I've spoken on this before, that trusting our own character creation, how we determine some things about the character at the outset, even subconsciously, can and will have an impact. And sometimes we just have to trust ourselves and see where that unexpected thread leads.

*stares down thousands of words, hundreds of screenshots, and a handful of art commissions, over 5 years for a ship she never meant to write to begin with*

And it's not set in stone! You might change something, find some things work better later after all, retcon a few things, follow a random thread only to find it doesn't work out...and that's OK. Don't be afraid to experiment. This is all for fun!

Also don't try to determine every detail at the beginning; it's a way to box yourself in, or an excuse to not get started in the first place. I knew on chargen that Aeryn's bio dad was a Coerthan farmer who died in a lead-up attack to Ferndale; I didn't know anything else, not even his name, for years, until a random idea from a random prompts got me. I sat on it for a while, and then eventually followed the thread into the Avengret storyline. We also didn't have Thavnair until EW, so I left a lot of things about Aeryn's family vague and purposefully off to the side of the "mainland Thavnair culture" to give myself some breathing room, and it's worked out decently.

The game's always updating, changing, and evolving; give yourself the same space the game writers do themselves, and determine if new info makes you want to retcon something or work your own lore in alongside updates; flexibility is key, and characters can be wrong, misinformed, lying, or altered by events and people they meet.

Anyway; these are a few things I work with. I think some of the earliest things in my blog you'll find for any of my characters are some short prompt responses before I started writing and posting stories involving them (and some of those answers have changed over time as I grew more certain of who they were--or they changed!). I have notes from ShB and EW MSQ--some just sentence fragments, some short scene or dialogue ideas--to get how Aeryn reacted to MSQ events and interacting with people. Most of them never end up in stories, but they're important as they let me noodle out how to write about those events.

Hope this helps! And here's to seeing your WoL join the fray. 😘

[thatdesklamp]

Hi! I looked at your writing advice page and I think it was really good advice and has helped me a lot, but I was also wondering if you have advice on how to write dialogue?

Because I don't want it to sound boring and cheesy, but I also don't want my characters to be spewing pure Shakespeare lol.

When I read your works, I think you do really well and make things balanced and interesting, with even 3 word sentences :)

Do you have advice?

yo yes I kind of do.

I struggled with writing dialogue most out of anything when I started writing--I'd have to force myself to write it, instead of writing paragraphs upon paragraphs of internal monologues--and so developed a 'Beginner's Method' that ended up working for me:

Talk to yourself as the characters and then write down what you end up saying

For me, this involved pacing around my room and muttering to myself like I was slightly deranged, and then pouncing on my laptop every few minutes to speedtype anything good I came up with. It works best when there's an exchange between only two characters, and you have a general idea of where the scene should go.

Now, this may be the theatre kid in me, but 'acting out' what the characters should say helped me figure out their characterisation better, as well as their vocal mannerisms and inflections to try to make each person 'sound' unique, as well as figuring out how the conversation should flow naturally. It's easy for things to sound forced when you're sitting down and staring at a laptop, so actually getting up and moving actually helped a lot.

Only write out what the characters say, nothing else

At the beginning, I only ever wrote the dialogue. It was just lines and lines that looked like this: I don't think you're right about this made-up conflict we're going to be talking about / maybe i'm not / what do you mean / i mean maybe i agree with you, i'm not right about this made-up conflict / yes you're not

This helps so much with figuring out the flow of the dialogue: you don't get bogged-down in making the writing flowery, or figuring out a really clever way to 'show' that a character is sad without 'telling' they're sad... firstly, just figure out what they're saying.

Add in the flowery bits afterwards

Adding in the 'Person A said' / 'She stared at him' / 'His voice wavered, like [blah blah blah words input here]' after you've written out dialogue helped me loads in the beginning. It then helps you structurally: you can look at your work 'zoomed-out', and make sure you're not clogging your writing with too much description, or too little description, or too much blank space, or too little, or... etc. Nowadays I don't need to really do it like this, as I've got enough practice in that I can figure out the 'flow' as I go (haha) but there are still loads of times when I have a fab idea for how I want a scene to go, and so I just whizz out the dialogue as quick as I can, with only a few markers to help me figure out what I want the characters to be doing. Let me have a look in my notes app to try to see if I've got any IW examples.

[EDIT: HUZZAH!!! I FOUND ONE!!! Here’s literally proof of me doing this for a scene in Chapter 19 of ‘Intrinsic Warmth’:

Which was then expanded (by a biiiig degree!!) into this:

In the first one, I didn’t care about formatting, grammar, anything like that. I’m just concerned about getting the words onto the page, as I know I’ll be able to go over it later.

Other general tips:

Nothing is ever solved in one line

The reader's eyes skip over two lines of dialogue (Person A speaks / Person B responds) so, so quickly. I always noticed that it was like two lines were pretty much redundant until I padded them out with just... more lines. For something to seem significant to the reader, or for there to be a purpose for you to include it, I go with a general rule of four lines minimum.

This is because nobody's mind ever really changes in one or line of dialogue. People don't work like this:

Person A: I'll give you £5 for that dress.

Person B: No way. Minimum price, £10.

(Person A is now convinced and will pay £10)

There needs to be some more back-and-forth, for 90% of people. It's very rare that you'll ever find someone so naturally persuasive that they can change someone's mind in one line, or that someone is so easily convinced that their mind can be changed in one line. Most of the time, it'll look something more like this:

Person A: I'll give you £5 for that dress.

Person B: No way. Minimum price, £10.

Person A: I don't know... I've only got £10 in my purse, and that's for everything today.

Person B: Don't worry, Person A. You know I wouldn't cheat you out of your money!

(Person A is now convinced and will pay £10)

However, each line should still add something new. It could be that Person B tries a new method of convincing Person A, or that Person B tries again, saying essentially the same thing but in a different way. That 'different' way should convey something: are they more irritated, more casual, more angry?

Essentially, don't be afraid of writing more dialogue than less. This doesn't mean you should write random stuff, or dialogue that doesn't serve a purpose, but people talk a lot more than you think. Let them talk.

Use single lines of dialogue, it's okay

As in, the bits in italics:

"Hello," Person A said.

"Hello!"

"Heyyyy. What's up?"

Your reader can keep up with who's saying what, especially once you work on developing each character's 'voice'. I used to get so bogged down by making sure every line of dialogue had the character's name attached to it, but in truth you can write these 'single lines' much more than you think. It helps speed the writing up, and it stops your reader from getting that bored, imo.

I don't know what I'm doing to be so fr

Here's the truth: I don't think dialogue is one of my strengths, at the moment. I've spoken a lot about all of your characters finding their 'voice', so you could basically look only at the character's dialogue and you could know which character it is solely from the words that they're saying. It's important for character development, with dialogue being such an important tool to characterise your characters!

But I honestly don't think I'm the best at that. It's something that I'm consciously working on, and I think writing things other than IW will help me stretch those muscles, but it's honestly not something I've got cracked yet. Which is fine--I'm developing as an author! Everyone is, constantly--and I guess a way to say that I'm not tip-top at this, but as long as you're willing to put yourself out there (as in: start writing, start putting words on paper, that's all) then you're going to improve. And that's great! Ha-haaaa

[bridgyrose]

RWBY Newspaper, but it's inside Weiss' Ice Queendom dream world. Weiss wants to keep Ruby and Blake close to her, and thus has captured them.

Ruby stared at the door in front of her as she tried to open it, starting to get frustrated that it wouldnt open. All that preparation to get into Weiss’s dream, delicate planning to make sure she could get the information she needed to figure out how to save her, and here she was, stuck in a mockup of the dorm room, unable to fulfill her quest all because of a door. She instinctively reached for her scythe, pausing when she didnt feel it. “Great, just great…” 

She sat down on the bottom bunk closest to her and leaned back, staring up at the top bed as she tried to figure out a way out. Sure, she could use a coin to call Shion for advice, but she didnt want to waste any coins like she did the first time around. Then, it hit her: the door she created by the tracks should still be there. She quickly pulled out her scroll, relieved that there was still service and called both Blake and Yang hoping they’d pick up. 

Blake was the first to answer, a sigh of relief coming out of her. “Ruby! Where are you?” 

“I”m stuck somewhere that looks like our dorm. What about you and Yang?” 

“I havent seen Yang and I’m not exactly sure where I am. It looks like a bedroom, though the door’s locked.” 

“Same here.” Ruby sighed and sat up as she looked around the dorm room once more. “Any idea where Yang ended up?” 

“Not a clue,” Blake answered back. “Though something tells me our dream counterparts may have ended up in a bit more trouble since the last time you were here.” 

“But what could I… we-” Ruby paused for a moment as she heard footsteps outside the door and the key inserted into the lock. She continued in a whisper, speaking quickly. “I have to go!” 

“Wait Ruby-” 

Ruby hung up the call and put her scroll away as the door opened. She put up a quick smile as she watched the nightmare Weiss walk in, slowly standing up. “Weiss.” 

“Ruby,” the nightmare Weiss said as she shut the door behind her. “I see you werent harmed.” 

“Thankfully, but I”m still not sure-” Ruby stopped in the middle of her sentence as she felt Weiss kiss her, freezing as she tried to process what was happening. She finally pulled away and looked Weiss over. “What… what was that?” 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” The nightmare Weiss pulled her arm closer to her chest and looked down. “This felt like the only way I could keep you safe from Father. If he ever found out I fell for a commoner, I’m sure he’d make sure I’d never see you again.” 

Ruby smiled a bit, then looked away. “I… I think I understand. But if we can find Blake, then we can change things.” 

“I… cant let you go after Blake.” 

Ruby hesitated as she watched the shy smile change to a distraught look, the nightmare Weiss’s hand gripping her arm tighter. “What do you mean? We can find her and get you out of here-” 

“And then you’ll both leave me.” 

“We would never leave you.” 

“I’ve heard that one before. First it was that you’d never leave me, but the moment I had to start taking control of Atlas for myself, you left. You all left. And then Blake… I cant let her or you go. At least, not yet.” 

Ruby took a deep breath and stepped forward to the nightmare Weiss, putting a hand on her arm. “Weiss, where is Blake? You… you love her too, right? Like you love me? You can tell me where she is and we can help free you-” 

“Or you’ll betray me!” The nightmare Weiss pushed Ruby away and brought her rapier to her chest, pressing the tip against her. “If I let her go, she’ll join with the White Fang! She’ll bring them in to destroy everything I’m trying to protect!” 

“And you know that’s not true!” Ruby gripped the nightmare Weiss’s wrist with both hands, wincing as she felt the point of the rapier pressing harder into her. “I can bring her here, show you that you can trust her and me. We wont leave you.” 

The nightmare Weiss frowned and pulled away. “If Father finds out you’re still here, then he’ll make sure that I dont see you anymore. And I refuse to risk losing either of you to him.” 

Ruby could only stand in place as she watched the door close and lock on her once more. She sighed and dug in her jacket for a coin and flipped it into the air to create a door back to the railway and outside the city. “I’ll find Blake and Yang on my own, and then we’ll rescue you.” She opened the door she created and stepped through, feeling her own heart ache as she left Weiss in the nightmare Atlas. “And once we rescue you, I think its time we had a long talk. Just me, you, and Blake.”