#the feedback as I work to improve

[tommyofspeed]

Drabble # 1 — post young avengers present #6

He doesn’t stop running until he’s miles away from the building on the Upper East Side. Away from the trouble he could get into for breaking into the temporary Avengers Tower. And away from Kate Bishop.

And it's only when he stops that he starts to actually think about what he did. And realize just how much of a jerk he’d been.

“Well, but you are a jerk, aren’t you, Tommy?” he muttered to himself, shaking his head angrily.

Yeah, most of the time, to most people. But he’d never gone so far as to abandon someone, to leave a friend behind in a moment of trouble. He thought he wasn’t like that. But… well, maybe he’d been wrong.

“Then again…” he tried to argue with himself, forcing a small smile that quickly faded. “We were only there because she wanted her bow back. If she hadn’t talked about it…”

He stopped, closing his eyes tightly before rubbing a hand over his face. That was a lousy excuse, and he knew it. From the start, this whole thing was his idea. Because he had second intentions, of course. He wanted to hook up with her, and the quickest way to do that was to please her, right? Also, committing a little crime didn't seem a bad idea at that point. It was exciting. 

So he’d convinced her and brought her there, thinking he was helping her, that she deserved her equipment back—that it was unfair it had been taken from her, and he could help her get it. But then… the Avengers showed up, and he kida panicked.

He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t planned on anything other than sneaking in and getting the gear without being noticed. He didn't plan that far ahead nor did he had a plan for if they get caught. Because that wasn't supposed to happen.

"She did said go—" He reminded himself, only to add. "but was she talking about going home or for you to get out of there?" He didn't know for sure, and he didn't stay to find out.

Because he just ran. Without thinking twice. Without doing something to get Kate out of there too. He just listen the aproaching avengers, and the word go and he just ran, without thinking much about her. He left her to her own devices in a split second.

They went in there together, but he left alone.

He escaped like a jerk. Like a coward. He was well aware of that now. But now was too late.

"Which is ironic, because you could have had all the time in the world to think about it, but you didn't."

But what else could he have done? He couldn’t risk getting caught and thrown back in juvie, even though this whole mess was his idea. And if anyone had to take the blame for this little silly heist, he figured Kate would get off easier than he would. Maybe that was her plan all along? Cover for him? Even after everything? The older Avengers actually liked her, right? They wouldn't go too hard on her.

“You’re a damn idiot,” he muttered to himself. “There was plenty you could’ve done, don’t lie to yourself. You could’ve taken her out of there with you. But you didn’t, because you’re a damn idiot who only thinks about yourself. What a joke of a hero.”

He leaned against the wall of the alley where he’d ended up, cursing himself.

In the past, this wouldn’t have bothered him at all. He wouldn't spend a second thinking about what had just happened. He’d gotten himself out—what else mattered? But now… things were different. He was feeling guilty. Because he knew he’d put Kate in trouble. And Kate… well, he really liked Kate. For real. Not only because she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She was just great in every way too. She was a teammate, his partner, and the funniest, most badass girl he’d ever met.

He knew he might have blown any chance he’d ever had with her because of this. But he hoped, deep down, he hadn’t ruined his chances of being her friend moving forward. Besides Billy, Kate was the only one who actually seemed to enjoy his presence in the Young Avengers, and they were a solid team together. He couldn't stand the idea of having broken her trust.

And this was a new kind of pain that he never felt before. He hated it.

He sighed, feeling defeated. "Ok Tommy, think about it." He told himself. "What can you do?"

Right now, he had three options: he could go back, but he knew that was a terrible idea. The Avengers would still be there, and it would only turn things into an even bigger mess, no matter how fast he was.

The second option was to wait a bit, then head over to Kate’s place and apologize. See if she was okay. But Tommy knew that was an even worse idea. She’d be probably furious with him, and rightfully so, and he’d probably get a punch in the face or an arrow to dodge (which he knew he deserved).

The last and best option was to go home and try to fix this mess tomorrow, that is, if Kate even wanted to talk to him after that. She probably wouldn't, and he couldn’t blame her for that. That was on him, and as much as he hated to admit, he knew fixing it would take time, It would be slow, but he’d have to try.

He was willing to do whatever it took to make it up to her.

[squoobest]

this pleasant étoile shows up at your door

[hipsternumbertwo]

Bit City Episode 1 BTS

[eleventhsister]

trying digital painting again after 6(?) years

[waywardsalt]

rough rough draft of chapter 1 of the bellum x linebeck fic

Though the storm had passed and the sun finally shown upon the sea again, Linebeck felt gloomy. He leaned against his ship’s rope railings and stared at the horizon. The night before, the pounding of the rain had put him at ease. Now, the bright afternoon had brought back that familiar anxiety. After some thinking, Linebeck pushed himself away from the railing and resolved to begin his morning chores.

                As the only person on his ship, it was up to Linebeck to take care of it- and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He knew his beloved steamship like the back of his hand, and he collected a bucket as he blinked the last of the sleep from his eyes. Firstly, he gathered seawater to dump into the engine’s storage tank. The ship was drifting at the moment, but once Linebeck would turn it on, the heat would build up in the engine and the water would boil and evaporate and build up steam to get the wheels moving.

Linebeck knelt at the lowest edge of the deck and dunked the bucket into the water for the ninth- tenth? - time. He’d have to do some extra engine maintenance before he got moving. He’d been traveling during the entire storm, likely pushing the engine to its limits. But after the water gathering, Linebeck checked the hull for barnacles and scratches, checked the railings for damaged rope, checked his food and water supplies, barely giving himself a moment of rest while he went through the familiar motions.

Since he began sailing, Linebeck’s life had been altogether monotonous and unpredictable. His ship was one he had designed himself, and knew better than anyone else how to take care of and operate it. He had no desire to take on a crew, and knew from experience that they’d only hold him back- trying to teach new people how to work his ship was incredibly tedious and often led to them making mistakes and doing more harm than good. The last bastard he’d temporarily hired and bothered to teach about his ship- Linebeck scowled and shook his head. Not even worth thinking about, now.

The storm had replenished his fresh water supply. It had been bad enough to obscure visibility across the sea, so Linebeck had done some fishing. If he cared for gods, he would have thanked one that he made it through without getting sick.

He didn’t need a crew. Linebeck hadn’t had a long-term crew member for what- seven years now? They just made him feel uneasy and he could never muster up the patience to put up with them.

Or maybe he kept finding the wrong people. That had certainly happened before. He was never particularly good with other people. Linebeck was almost certain that he’d made a good few new enemies just in the last month. His eyes scanned the horizon as he walked back out onto the deck. Linebeck tightened his grip on his mop’s handle. He was totally alone. And yet his skin prickled with unease.

“…No point worrying,” he mumbled to himself. He started mopping the deck, forcing himself to keep his eyes trained on the wood. His last chore of the morning was always the most soothing. He moved slowly and rhythmically, beginning at the prow and slowly making his way back to the cabin. His ship was small, though large enough to be comfortable for him. The deck sloped upwards a few feet from the cabin and plateaued, about a foot higher and better to accommodate the rooms and machinery beneath.

The air was warm and humid; Linebeck brushed his hair out of his face and behind his shoulders. He considered removing his coat, but he was nearly done mopping- no point in wasting the time. The heat was never a big issue for him. He was perfectly suited to the sea, and Linebeck felt more than confidant handling every aspect of this life on his own. No problems whatsoever. No good reason for the anxiety that refused to leave his mind.

Maybe there was a good reason, the same reason why he kept scanning the horizon.

Finished mopping the deck, Linebeck turned to admire it. The storm had cleaned it well enough, but now that the sky was clear he wasn’t just going to cut out part of his morning routine.

With everything done for the morning, Linebeck gathered up his mop and the bucket and moved to put them away. The bucket would be dumped out and left with other containers in the storage room, the mop left in the engine room… and then the engine would need to be started up. The nearest inhabited island was two days away (with good conditions), so while Linebeck had no need to get going right that moment, he felt safer with the engine running.

To get the engine started, Linebeck pulled a lever by the wheel up and waited a moment as he heard the hissing of steam start, and then stop. He knelt down in front of the storage tank. Enough water for the day, that was for sure. He withdrew his matchbox from a pocket in his coat and struck a match, humming idly to himself as he tossed it in the space below the water. It would only be a few minutes before the ship could get going; over the years, Linebeck had gone back and forth on the design of the engine, and managed to make it especially efficient with different materials and methods, and was quite proud of it. While the water heated up, he shut the tank door and sat back, resting a moment.

He’d gotten… some sleep last night. He’d dreamed briefly, and didn’t feel as terrible as he usually did. Some sleep. Better than no sleep at all. Linebeck laid down on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. He stared at the winding pipes at the tops of the walls and then shut his eyes. If he was lucky, he could perhaps find a few minutes to nap. Just a few minutes…

The ticking of the machinery around him slowly faded in as the engine properly started up. The sound melted into with the noise of the ocean outside, and Linebeck felt his anxieties ease. The familiarity of his daily routine eased his mind like nothing else.

The next island was north of his position… Linebeck let out a long breath. He’d have to at least position his ship facing north, and get started within the hour. He sat up and stretched. If he got started now, he could reach the island by late tomorrow. The engine was ready to go, and Linebeck smiled to himself as he fiddled with some of the smaller levers and switches, listening to the subtle changes in the ticking and clicking around him.

He paused when he heard up an unfamiliar noise. Linebeck stilled his hands, suddenly feeling cold.

Without thinking, Linebeck kicked the engine into proper operation and after a moment, the wheels on either side of the ship started turning and he quickly steered the ship in the opposite direction of that odd sound. He heard it again, from outside his ship- the unmistakable sound of cannon fire, and Linebeck was not brave enough to stop and check to see if it was aimed at him.

It was usually aimed at him, anyways.

Linebeck steered his ship away and locked the wheel in place; he felt his heart pounding in his chest as more muffled canon fire reached his ears. One sounded closer than the rest, and he managed to tear himself away from the wheel and run up to deck. Running away was nice, but he needed to know where to run away to.

It seemed like he was getting chased more and more. Linebeck figured he ought to start a list of the crews that had it out for him; that was something to do once he was safe. He stumbled out onto the deck and leaned over the rope railing, staring at the southern horizon. Sure enough, he could see a pirate ship in the distance heading his way, and the wind was in their favor.

Linebeck gripped the railings until the rope started to dig into his skin. The hell did he do to them? He recognized the decorated sails as the sails of the ship that’d been pursuing him before the storm. Their captain was one he’d cheated out of several hundred rupees in poker- or was that a different crew? No time to think it over while they got closer and closer. More cannon fire rang out, and Linebeck jumped back as the cannonball splashed into the water dangerously close to his ship.

Sailing in a straight line was a terrible idea. Better to leverage his steamship’s advantages and focus on disrupting their aim. Linebeck wildly looked around. No rocks or islands in sight. His best hope was to run for it and hope that either they’d run out of cannonballs or the wind would die down. He raced back inside.

He was just one man; why did all of these pirates decide that being slighted by him once marked him as the biggest threat to them on the entire Great Sea? Pirates were so petty. He flinched when he heard a muffled splash and felt the ship rock. Linebeck gripped the wheel tightly and started turning the ship west, his sweaty hands almost slipping off. He gritted his teeth as the cannon fire sounded closer and the ship rocked again.

The last time he’d been pursued like this, a cannonball had burnt his hull and cost him several days of sleep. Linebeck turned the ship far enough around to spy the pursuing pirates again; the moment he heard the cannon fire again, he spun the wheel to sail in the opposite direction. Turning was slow, but his ship never stopped moving. He’d had nightmares about one of the wheels being damage, and Linebeck felt weak in the knees just thinking about it.

As the pirate ship slipped out of view, the waters around his ship were more violently disrupted, and Linebeck yelped as his ship was more violently rocked by the waves. There was no cannon fire, no sound of a cannonball hitting the waves- and the water was clearly churning too violently for it to have been a cannonball. He clung to the steering wheel for dear life, his knees nearly buckling underneath him, and the cacophonous sound of an especially large wave made him wince. The ship rocked again, but still no cannon fire. Instead, Linebeck picked up a new muffled noise.

…Splintering wood?

The wood of his own ship was fine, there was no motion asides from the violent waves rocking his ship, but the distant splintering continued, and with it, faraway screams. For the second time in barely five minutes, Linebeck’s curiosity prevailed over his fear. On shaky legs he stumbled up onto his deck- slick with water that had poured onboard, and nearly fell over the railings when he reached them.

The pursuing pirate ship was being torn apart by something. Something had pulled the main mast down and split it in half, tearing through the sails and ripping the vessel in half. Linebeck squinted, hardly seeing anything that could be causing it, then caught a glimpse of what looked like a thick black rope curled around the prow, tearing it clean off and dragging it into the sea. The way those ‘ropes’ moved; Linebeck slowly slid down into a crouch as he realized that a sea monster was what was attacking that ship.

One pirate jumped from where the prow had been, likely trying to escape and swim away, but a black tentacle shot out of the water and grabbed them midair and yanked them below the water. Linebeck felt frozen to the spot, more than grateful that he wasn’t the creature’s target, but he feared that if he took advantage of the chaos and sailed away, he would be attacked next.

The pursuing ship began to sink, and the sharp cracking of wood was piercing as it reached Linebeck’s ears. The hull was torn in two, more tentacles appearing to crush them into unsalvageable wreckages. The fear that shot through Linebeck urged him to straighten back up. He started to hurry back into the engine room, but stopped in his tracks as the tentacles withdrew back into the water.

The pirate ship’s remains slowly sank, survivors clinging to any floating pieces. Linebeck stared at the water around his ship. That… thing had stopped. That sea monster that he and those pirates had the misfortune to disturb.

That sea monster- Linebeck had researched every possible hostile creature that had been seen on the Great Sea, and that certainly had to have been one of them. He grabbed onto his railing again, feeling too sick to move his gaze from the sinking ship down to the waters just below him. He stood at the end of the railing, steady on the sloping deck despite the way his limbs shook and his heart hammered in his chest.

There was a sea monster in these waters. It had just wiped out an entire pirate crew in hardly a minute. From what Linebeck could recall, that pirate crew was rather prepared and experienced, and their ship certainly wasn’t some glorified piece of driftwood. This wasn’t just an overgrown gyorg or some other typical sea monster- he was at the mercy of the kind of sea monster that had stories passed around. The kinds that endured for decades or even centuries and were either worshipped or feared. He’d never seen a regular sea monster that had those kinds of tentacles and was that quick and deadly.

One of the stranded pirates was suddenly and violently pulled under water. Linebeck lowered himself back down to a crouch, staring at the now-empty patch of water. After a few moments, a faint red hue bloomed from deep under the surface.

I’m going to die.

The thought seemed to echo in Linebeck’s head. It wasn’t a thought he was unfamiliar with, but it was much, much more frantic now than ever. He was going to drown or be eaten. Even if he got out unscathed, his ship likely wouldn’t, and that sounded just as bad as if he got injured. Linebeck shakily stared down at the water mere feet from him. Every tiny wave and ripple in the water heightened his anxiety, and his mind raced. Another pirate was pulled under the water, eaten, and the waters were still for a moment. Then, there was a subtle ripple further away from the wreckage and closer to Linebeck’s ship.

How do I get out of this?

Linebeck’s terror forced him to his feet, and he raced into his ship’s cabin. That monster was more than capable of catching up with that pirate ship, and Linebeck stumbled on his way down the stairs as his ship rocked slightly.

This monster was capable of killing and catching him with ease, and it tore apart that pirate ship with ease, and it was eating the survivors, and Linebeck was up next if he didn’t think fast. His feet brought him into his ship’s cramped kitchen, and he stood still in the doorway for a moment. His fear and quick-thinking seemed to crash into each other, and his mind went blank as he stared around. Linebeck switched his attention from his utensils to the fish he’d recently caught and had yet to clean to the cupboards. Why the hell had he run here?

The sea monster killed all of the pirates. It was probably chasing after him now. It tore apart the ship, and… ate the pirates. Ate the pirates. Linebeck stared at his recently-caught fish. There were a pair of smaller amberjacks he’d picked up during the storm, a seabass he had a few different plans for, and then a large loovar he’d been planning to sell. He suddenly felt itchy looking at that loovar. He was going to sell it. It was a large, pristine loovar, with sleek, undamaged scales and was over five feet long and took up the entire counter that fit in the narrow kitchen. It was valuable and would net him a good sum of rupees at the next island he docked at.

Linebeck’s ship rocked again, violently enough to knock him off balance. The terror finally mixed with his quick thinking and he grabbed and yanked the loovar off the counter, stumbling a moment under its weight. He slung it over his shoulder and hauled it up the stairs, his shoulder aching before he was even in the engine room. Goddesses, his coat was going to reek if he made it out of this alive.

He paused to grab his mop and tuck it into the crook of his elbow and stumbled a bit, stubbornly keeping the fish from touching the floor. The ship rocked under his feet again, and Linebeck shuddered and hurried out onto the deck. The water around his ship’s hull ripped every few moments, and Linebeck didn’t hesitate in letting the loovar drop onto the wood. He kicked it off the deck, and it fell unceremoniously into the water and floated barely a few inches from the hull- too close.

With the mop he prodded at it and sent it floating slowly away from his ship. And so, Linebeck huddled at the edge of his deck, leaning against his mop for support. For just a moment, the waters were still. The loovar bobbed on the water’s surface and the sunlight glinted off its scales. Linebeck exhaled slowly. For all he knew, the monster could have already left. He could probably grab the loovar if he was careful.

Linebeck started to reach back out with the mop, but drew it back as the water around the loovar suddenly started to ripple. The rippling grew more furious, and the water began to bubble and small waves started rushing out from around the fish- a dark shape was just barely visible deep in the water. The shape rushed to the surface, and Linebeck only got the quickest glimpse before falling backwards onto the deck as the largest waves yet set his ship violently rocking.

It was huge, easily half the size of his ship, and a stunning yellow. For the split second he saw it, Linebeck couldn’t discern any detail, but he didn’t miss the mouth full of sharp teeth that engulfed the loovar. Linebeck had fallen onto his back and didn’t dare move as the sea calmed down, the blurry image of the beast burnt into his mind. He stared up at the sky and realized that the fear in his chest had eased. Had he appeased the creature? The rocking of his ship slowly stopped, and he felt he was in no hurry to get up.

There was a slight splashing, and Linebeck jolted upright. He stared off the edge of the deck, at where the loovar had been floating. It stared back at him. The sunlight glinted off its yellow body, greenish in some spots, and golden in others. Under the water, the rest of it was just a murky shadow. In its mouth, encircled by those teeth, was an eye that stared back at him, the tiny pupil within a burning yellow and orange, surrounded by deep black. A monstrous eye, and one that Linebeck could’ve sworn he’d seen somewhere. Something about the thing’s unblinking gaze made a sense of visceral horror return to Linebeck, and before he could think it through, he scrambled to his feet.

The creature didn’t move in the water, but its eye followed his movements. Despite the hammering of his heart, Linebeck couldn’t tear his gaze away from that eye. His limbs felt locked in place, and his breathing came in in ragged gasps and he realized just how bad his situation had gotten. There was no way that loovar was enough to save him. He’d seen the way the creature had torn apart that pirate ship. He’d seen the way it had grabbed and killed those pirates. There was nothing keeping it from killing him next.

Then, without any sound but the sounds of the water, the creature sank down into the ocean and out of sight.

Linebeck immediately hurried back into his cabin, just barely remembering to snatch up his mop.

He wasted no time in getting his ship up and running again, and set a course for the island before even thinking of relaxing. Linebeck anxiously surveyed the sea as he steered the ship away, but spotted nothing out of the ordinary.

…Maybe the loovar had satisfied that… thing. Linebeck tried not to think much about it. But his nerves were still shot by the encounter, and he stiffly steered until the sun began to set.

He didn’t anchor the ship until stars glittered in the sky. Linebeck moved gingerly around his ship, half expecting that monster to return. But the evening was quiet, and Linebeck eventually felt relaxed enough after doing his rounds. He collected every book he had that mentioned sea monsters and went out on deck to read and rest.

Linebeck rested against the prow. He set the books in his lap and started flipping through each one, quickly skipping through what turned out to be a catalogue of common seafaring enemies, and finding a short collection of short stories based on powerful creatures around the world. As the sun dipped further below the horizon, Linebeck finally reached a much more informative book- one that had been gathering dust at the edge of the shelf- and flipped through more slowly, inspecting each illustration. Dragons, sentient plants, fish creatures, and Linebeck slowed down upon reaching the chapter reserved for deities. It didn’t take long for him to turn a page and find a familiar illustration.

It was little more than a collection of sketches, but that eye was unmistakable. Linebeck leaned over the book with a small spark of triumph in his heart. He was right- it was one he’d heard of before, a creature named ‘Bellum’. Apparently a powerful, demonic sea monster.

Linebeck felt a faint shiver down his spine and he sat up and stared off across the sea. He shut the book and gathered up the rest. Back in the cabin, he locked the door out, and hesitated with his hand on the knob. That nearby island was his destination, a small island with a small town that he’d been for. He needed supplies, needed to restock on food and parts and whatever else eluded him at the moment.

He double-checked the lock and silently headed down into the storage room. Linebeck left the volume with the information on Bellum on the table, and put the rest back on the bookshelf behind the thin bar that kept them from falling out.

Bellum.

Linebeck turned and stared at the book on the table. In the dim light of the few lit lanterns in the room, the book seemed almost ominous with its dark cover and elaborate spine. Where had he picked this one up? Was it one from home, or something he’d bought on a whim a while ago? Either way, it was worth reading through and taking notes on- even if the information he wanted seemed to only take up two pages.

Linebeck idly rubbed his hands together. The only indication of his lingering anxiety was the thin layer of sweat on his palms. Most sea monsters were known through shared stories and rumored sightings. Once he got all he could from the book, he could start asking around at islands. With any luck, though, he wouldn’t have to see that thing again.

[crehador]

i had a lot to criticize about the english tl of reverse 1999, so i would be remiss not to say it has gotten a lot and i mean A LOT better in recent updates

don't know if the main story has been cleaned up, but the improvements in the new events/side stories give me hope

it's still not perfect, and in fact seems to contain slightly more typos than before (which is more or less excusable imo, just not the most professional/polished look)

but it is genuinely getting GOOD

they're really nailing the "dog who is a philosophy major" voice for pickles, it suits him so well and is a joy to read

their word choice in the narration is delightful to me too, like the use of "extorted" here conjures up such a hilarious mental image (poor pickles lol)

another example of funny af narration, and also shoutout to *special thinking noise* my beloved. that is just the perfect way to describe it lmao

of course even in these lines there are errors. "package of the can" -> "packaging of the can" "gives off great smell" -> "gives off a great smell" "why would traveling excites charlton" -> "why would traveling excite charlton"

i do hope we continue to see improvements, because yeah the tl is still very much imperfect and not terribly professional-looking, but credit where credit is due! they've already come a long way

[russellius]

.

[dreamlogic]

2024 year of charlie gets a fucking break (hopefully. maybe. tbd.)

[boba-beom]

recently I’ve been writing but I feel like it’s not hitting the same as before :< idk what it is but I used to think my writing wasn’t as good in the past, but I prefer my writing then compared to now. or maybe I’m just discouraged idk

[markie-boo-in-your-area]

(Could you explain what swap AU is? I want to ask questions, but I don't really understand the AU from the few posts I've found).

So basically:

Mark Owens, instead of being a pessimistic christian like in canon, is a delusional (as in; he doesn't want to acknowledge his past misfortunes.), optimistic, and twisted guy who is pretty.. neutral, about God's existence. Like, he doesn't really care if God exists or not. You get what I mean? Anyway, during The Good Samaritan (TGS) he had a crisis where he was forcing himself to not revert back to when he was still a faithful slave to God's dubious commands (because he isn't sure if the Bible wasn't truly twisted to bigoted beliefs). Then comes along Michael the Archangel whom prevents Mark from taking his own life in place of Cian. Which made matters even worse. To put it simply; Mark realises the potential powers he has thanks to God giving him Gabriel's blessing, so he abuses it in anyway he can (be it felonies or potentially fatal experiments that he inflicts to himself because God won't allow him to die until Lucifer is defeated).

For the entirety of TGS, Michael replaces Cian's role as Mark's guardian. Why? Well Mark is far worse in this AU than in canon. Probably worse than his OG counterpart. Swap Mark is very violent and harsh when he gets in a angry state. So yeah...

[rivvii]

oh boy oh boy

[rawliverandgoronspice]

what if I think really really hard and beam my grades and feedback into my students' brains from a distance......

[stirdrawsandreblaws]

realizing that apparently my playing hundreds if not thousands of video games over the course of my life makes me an outlier...

[russellshaws]

If you don't mind me asking, do you find it any difficulties writing smut scenes? Do you have any tips for other writers on the subject?

i don't mind you asking at all! i don't really have difficulty writing smut scenes anymore - i'm sure i used to because in the same way love scenes are choreographed on tv, smut scenes are technical to write. obviously they have to be...you know. enjoyable to the reader. but at the end of the day there are certain beats you have to hit, and that keeps it kinda technical in nature.

as for tips or advice, just...practice. you don't get good at smut writing without practicing smut writing. also, don't just copy other people's style - everyone does something a little different with smut whether that's based on experience, what you like, what you've read, etc...and that's good! smut should be varied.

you didn't ask for this but i will say my one big pet peeve with smut writing is when it lasts like, 3 sentences. like you're building up to the smut and then it's literally less than a paragraph's worth of writing. i feel like a lot of writers would benefit from letting themselves sit in discomfort for a few minutes and really try to stretch their muscles when it comes to smut writing. challenge yourself to write more and just try, because that's how you learn.

ALSO, find a friend you trust an ask them to read your work. ask for actual, critical feedback. ask about specific details or things you're not sure are working. just opening yourself up to that and knowing it's eventually going to help you improve is always good.

[legendfinder]

Ok bit of a hot take but I don't think gettin nothin but praise from friends is a very healthy thing, at least for me. Puts me in the mindset that I must always strive to do good to get the respect of my peers. Could be cool for ppl to slip in a little critique with their remarks, as a treat. Shows that they still love me even when I'm flawed, and also shows that they're taking me / my work seriously enough to give feedback, if that makes sense.

[dancedance-resolution]

creative writing class. the assignment was persona poems. so i wrote mine from the perspective of a girl who got knocked up by a priest and then murdered him. and all of my peer reviews are like “you are so brave for sharing this” “i hope the process of writing this helped you process your trauma” “stay strong girl”………bestie yeah i have some religious trauma who fucking doesn’t but This Is A Persona Poem ! i did not, in fact, just confess to murder in the community college class discussion board!