#writing advice not written by me

[prolibytherium]

Saying 'sex and food and gore are variations on the same concept so you can write them interchangeably' is so crazy because like you are fundamentally missing the point of theme, it's meaning Assigned to concepts that don't necessarily have intrinsic meaning beyond what they fundamentally describe.

Like you Can write sex like food effectively if it's serving a purpose (to communicate about the nature of the sex, the emotional stakes, the character's personality and their relationships, etc) and using eating as a metaphor effectively communicates this purpose- ie to evoke that the sex is an act of consumptive indulgence (maybe at the expense of the other? is it self-serving for one or both? do they treat it like mindless snacking? is it like binge eating?), or that it's an attempt to satiate a feeling of starvation (does it? are they still hungry?), etc. It Can work very effectively if you're using the food connection to convey additional layers of meaning that are not implicit in the act itself.

It does NOT work if you're operating on the basis of 'sex and gore and eating actually all the same thing as an act consumption and love and violence and sensation and cannibalism dog motif take me to church'. Like just first of all you are Wrong, these are meanings you've attached to (mostly) neutral human behavior. Having sex, eating food, and grievous bodily injuries are, shockingly, not the same thing (hence why juxtaposing/connecting the concepts to create new meaning is the way you make it work!) You can't even write variations on Sex Itself interchangeably, sex is not all the same, sometimes it's boring and routine, sometimes it's affectionate and emotional, sometimes it's self harming and ugly. Much less writing every act of human bodily sensation interchangeably. This will not make your writing better but instead lead you to crafting the most garbage sentences known to man. Tread carefully.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

How to Use Absurdist Humor

I will often excuse away the “worst” of Marinette’s behavior with a very dismissive, “It’s an obvious joke, so there’s no point taking this as a serious character beat. Let’s not waste our time here.”

While I stand by that statement, I can see why some people struggle with this approach. Miraculous has made the unfortunate choice to tie the humor to parts of the narrative that have actual meaning to the audience. This undercuts the power of the humor, making it hard for some people to separate the humor from the actual character beats, so let’s step back and look at a show that did this right to show what I mean.

That’s right, folks, it’s time for more gushing about Kim Possible!

For today’s case study, we'll start with episode 17 of season one: The Twin Factor. In this episode, Kim is stuck babysitting her little brothers while on a mission to stop her arch nemesis. You may be thinking that Kim's "flaw" in this episode is the fact that she brings two 10-year-olds on a dangerous mission.

You would be wrong.

This is the lead-in to Kim bringing the twins along:

Kim: Er, speaking of forgetting, I totally spaced on the baby-sitting. Mrs. Dr. Possible: Kimmy, you made a commitment. Kim: Two commitments, actually. I'm suppose to go on a mission today. Mr. Dr. Possible: You'll just have to take the boys. Kim: Mom, can you please tell Dad that's a bad idea? Mrs. Dr. Possible: Oh, Kimmy. I'm sure Jim and Tim would love to visit a secret lab with you.

This is how you do absurdist humor. Is this technically horrible parenting? Yes, but there is no way that anyone is taking this seriously. It’s just so over the top that anyone trying to criticize the Possible’s behavior comes across as completely missing the point.

The other important factor is that Kim’s parents are played as genuinely loving and supportive parents, just in a really absurd way. This is a very natural bit of loving family dialogue about a totally ridiculous version of a normal family conflict. None of these three characters show off flaws that we expect to see address here save for their complete lack of concern about Kim’s life-risking adventures.

If Kim’s parents were shown to be genuinely neglectful or if Kim’s adventures were played more seriously, then this humor wouldn’t work anywhere near as well as it does. It would still be an obvious joke, but it would stumble the landing if you knew that the episode would go on to see Jim and Tim die. (They don’t, btw. The absurdist humor carries on, I’m just giving an extreme example of a plot beat that would kill – or at least weaken – this humor.)

Another example of Kim Possible doing absurdist humor right comes from the next episode in season one: Animal Attraction. In this episode, Kim is up against Senior Senior Senior, an eccentric billionaire who pursues villainy as a hobby, leading to exchanges like this one between him and his son:

Jr.: Did we not leave Kim Possible on a conveyor belt to her doom? Sr.: Yes. A proper villain always leaves his foe when he's about to expire. Jr.: Why? Sr.: Well, it would be bad form just to lull about, waiting for it. Jr.: Why? Sr.: Tradition!

This episode has a lot of moments like this. Moments where Jr asks why they don't do the obvious, more easy/effective thing and his father blows him off because that's not how villains do things! It's totally illogical logic and it's great. I love it! Perfect example of absurdist villains and a great way to keep the show from getting too serious. The writers never wanted you to feel like Kim was in over her head.

If you look at these two examples and compare them to Miraculous, you'll notice a big difference. While Miraculous does occasionally pull off good absurdist humor, a lot of the absurdist humor is more questionable because it's tied to the show's central conflicts.

As an example, let's talk about Marinette's inability to confess to Adrien and all the nonsense tied to that. Her many failures and attempts to know him better are clearly jokes, but they have this serious edge because the show has not set up the love square as nothing more than a source of humor. This is our end game couple. The audience expects to see their romance developed. The longer the show goes on without doing that and the more absurd Marinette's attempts get, the less the comedy works.

Another good example is Lila's lies. There is a solid argument to be made that the writers are trying to be funny with Lila's extremely obvious lies, but it doesn't work because the lies are a source of serious conflict. Lila is working with the villain! She gets Marinette expelled! We want to see her outed! Every obvious lie she tells just grates on our nerves because this is not the time for jokes!

To be fair, you can use absurdist humor in more serious shows. Another of my personal favorites is The Good Place, which relies heavily on absurdist humor, but has a very serious and heartfelt overall plot. The humor works there because the show knew when to use the humor and when to be serious and also because The Good Place is not a formula show. It's a serialized show. One big story told in 20-minute chunks. This meant that the humor had more room to breath and could be more closely tied to serious conflicts. When every story has to stand alone and be finished in 20-minutes, that blending rarely ever works. You're trying to do too much.

Kim Possible's writers knew this, too. The two tie-in movies (Kim Possible: A Sitch in Time and So the Drama) are still comedies, but they both have far more serious tones because they had the time to do that. While the episodes run about 20 minutes, both movies run a little over and hour which meant they could be more serious than in a standard episode.

So why did I write all that up? Because I was watching Kim Possible and thinking about how much better the humor generally was and I suddenly realized how easy it would be to be confused by Miraculous' humor if you didn't have this kind of background. I've seen enough absurdist humor to identify it with ease and even I struggle with Miraculous at times. Like I'm still not sure if Lila's lies are supposed to be a joke or not.

If you're new to absurdist humor or struggle to interpret less overt humor? Then I can see how you'd take Miraculous way more seriously than the writers intended because a lot of the absurdist humor simply isn't absurd enough. That doesn't change the fact that it's humor and I'm still going to treat it as such, but I can see why it goes right over some people's heads and leads to complaints like, "Marinette has his schedule for the next three years!!!" That was a joke, but I get why you're missing it.

[the---hermit]

My Study Method

I have quickly mentioned my study method in several posts through the years but I don't think I have ever written a proper post about it, so here it is.

I have to say that overall my study method is quite time consuming, but in years of experience it's what works best for the type of learner I am, the materials I have to study and the type of exams I have. I believe these three elements are the fundamental things you should figure out when creating your own study method. Let's go over these things quickly. Firstly I am an history student, tho not all my exams are history based (I have taken some language, philosophy, anthropology and litterature classes) so my method is proofed for most humanities. I am a learner with terrible memory, if you give me a list of things to learn by heart expect me to fail because my brain simply cannot do that. So I have to train myself to learn things when studying for an exam. As for the type of matherials I have to work with when studying for an exam, they are mostly full non fiction books, sometimes I have to work on articles as well, and depending on the class I have lectures to attend.

The fundamental element of my study method are the notes I write. That's why in my daily posts I am constatly mentioning them. The lectures I attend are turned into notes, the books and articles I have to read are turned into notes, everything you leave me with for too long will be turned into notes. The very act of writing is what truly helps me get into the topic, understand it, and memorize it. I might write an indepth post on how I write notes in the future, but for now what you must know is that the goal of my notes is to be the only material I actually study in the end. As I mentioned the very act of writing is itself a huge part of my study process. When I am listening to a lecture I try to write down notes as tidy as possible, and then try to fix them at home if needed. So there's not much to say there, as for the materials I have to read here's how I do it. When I get a book I have to study I usually read a chapter and underline all the important bits that I will be transferring to my notes as I am reading. When I am done with the chapter and have the topic still fresh in mind I write down by hand all my notes. The goal is to write everything I need to know, in a direct and easy way using my own words. By re-elaborating the original text I am making sure I am not blindly copying things, and actually understanding stuff. Once the entire book has gone through this process, the book goes back on the shelf and as I said I only work on my notes from then one.

Once I have all my notes ready a long time has probably passed, but in reading and writing I have already started to memorize things in general. I try to highlight my notes as I am writing, but in case I don't I go back once I am done writing, doing a quick reread and highlighting important stuff. I usually use two different colours: yellow for the important dates and another colour for the other informations. At this point there's two more steps left. Repeating and writing key words.

If writing notes can be counted as half of my studying, repeating outloud is the second half. Since I have oral exams I have to make sure I am comfortable with exaplaining things, showing I have understood things and I am not just midlessly reciting a list, and using the right terms. I am a very lucky person because my dad is both retired and quite interested in the topics that I study, which means that I get a lot of help from him in this phase of studying, because basically what I do is following him around the house for a few days exaplaining my notes to him. If you do not have someone to annoy with your study, talking to yourself works too but you have to speak outloud and honestly pretend you are giving a lecture. If you just go over your notes and read them it is not the same thing, it's way less effective. I usually do two rounds of repeating. The first one looks a lot more like reading and saying things outloud in my own words. By the second one I am usually much more comfortable with informations so I have my notes there only to guide me through topics making sure I don't miss anything. Having someone who actively listents to you is definitely a bonus because if they ask you questions they challenge you in the exact same way an oral exam does, and you make sure your exaplainations are as clear as possible.

The very last step is going through my notes one last time with the goal of writing a long list of key words. This is a tool I specifically use to review things quickly the day of the exam. Usually during my commute I reread the list of words in my head and I mentally make sure I remember about everything.

As mentioned this is a longer study method but it truly locks things in your brain, and paying that much attention to note writing also makes them a tool that lasts in time. If I am interested in the informations of any of the books I read during my degree I can pick the notebook in which I wrote those notes and find the information right away without even having to open the actual book. I usually dedicate a whole notebook to each book, in order to archive and find them easily. I will be writing a specific post on the way I write notes, maybe including a few pictures, but in the meantime I hope this was somewhat helpful.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Least favorite writing tropes: Multiple PoVs retelling the same event.

Like, seriously, do you really need to retell the same superhero fight five different times? Repeat the same conversation from both sides?

Just pick one Point of view per scene, and pick the point of view that would either be the most emotionally impactful, or tells the audience the most information. I can assure you, we don't need to know everyone's thoughts about the same event across three different chapters.

[bhaal-battle-beer-bard]

Astarion x Tav

📜🪶📜🪶💙🎻🫧🌹🌸🌹🫧🎻💙🪶📜🪶📜

request: for @aristenfromwarsaw

Fangtastic days of our lives

➹summary: a comforting day/evening in the life of Astarion and his love Aristen after post-game settling down, takes an unexpected turn as Astarion while enjoying his new found life and love, sees something of interest…

➹pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Tav (Aristen by @aristenfromwarsaw)

➹content/tags: fluff, comfort, romance, smuty flirting, fun, slice of life, little tiny bit of angst and guilt

➹word count: 5,036 ➹ao3

➹cameos: @evander-jane Devana Lysander @alpydk Ragnar @goromimii @pinkberrytea (by order)

➹a/n: another belated birthday present for @aristenfromwarsaw  Thank you very much for all the great photoshoots you always did for me, just like that. Such things really fill my heart with joy. I hope you like it. Thank you for trusting me with your Tav Aristen. I take writing other OCs really serious, because an OC is very personal thing and it is way harder to get them in character. I used the infos/backstory you gave me once about Aristen for the best I could.

📜🪶📜🪶💙🎻🫧🌹🌸🌹🫧🎻💙🪶📜🪶📜

Fangtastic days of our lives

Teak, mahogany, oakwood, dried tobacco with the hidden essence of vanilla. From somewhere the sweetness of honey and roasted nutmeg.

These were impressions of antique wood, boiling kettles, clanging beer mugs and laughing voices that filled the Elfsong tavern.

It was like a honey-colored, subterranean, starless sea.

A sea of ​​people, scents, voices and music.

A sea of ​​life that would envelop the coming evening when the sun would have completely disappeared, making way for the aurora again after the starry night.

Astarion was acutely aware of his surroundings. Perception meant survival.

But not today…not anymore.

He could simply explore and enjoy his surroundings while he waited for his beloved:

Aristen the storm sorceress and former daughter of Bhaal. She was able to walk in the sun and as a vampire spawn he had to wait until the sun had made the rays that were fatal to him disappear.

That didn't matter to Astarion. He was used to the night.

But he never wanted to go back to that cold, lonely life.

The Sorceress, along with the other companions, had freed him from slavery once and for all. But it was she alone who had given him back the vision of his eyes, of his entire senses. Astarion could sit in the tavern and just be, taking in the surroundings of life.

No more looking for victims. No more fear. Never again.

The Elfsong Tavern was full of life and he was part of it.

So after hundreds of years, Astarion could finally taste life again. See it. Hearing it with his pointy ears and feeling and smelling it warmly with the scent of pumpkin, butterscotch and spicy beer.

A quite pretty bard with white freckly tattoos on her face and braided crimson hair beneath her Tiefling horns played the lyre on the Elfsong stage. Astarion noticed dagger-shaped earrings on her pointed ears. The Avernus fire of her origins blazed in her blue eyes as she sang:

“Empty kisses, shallow words,

Fiery passion only hurts

When the sorrow takes an oblivion hint

Will you cure and begone with the wind…”

Astarion continued to look around while the sadly whispering voice reached his elf ears.

“I hope someone sings a song like that for me too. Such expressions of love really manage to make me weak,” sighed a tall black-haired woman, whose face bore at least as many tales of adventure as freckles.

"Me too. But I really hope that the ballad has a happy ending,” replied a long-haired beauty at her table. The human woman's wavy, light hair framed a gentle face with captivating blue eyes.

“Oh you heard that? Oh no! ", the adventuress, ashamed, put her hands on her head with her side-braided hair and covered cringing with embarrassment one of the green eyes. "I should stop talking loudly to myself."

The other woman laughed a little and her wavy hair swayed on the shoulders of the long, light dress with floral embroidery: “It’s all good. I won’t tell anyone else.”

She winked briefly.

“But tell me…” she took her hands away from her face with the little different eyes, “…you’re not from Baldur’s Gate either, right? You also speak with a different accent than me.”

"Correct. I come from the East..."

“What did she say? Sêlune guide me?”

Astarion was distracted by an almost desperate voice that sounded at least as concentrated and angry as it was beer-soaked.

He saw a barbarian sitting at the next table, holding his beer mug almost too tightly.

The raised dark blonde hair did not distract from the piercings and black war paint, which Lae'zel would certainly have approved of.

“Okay, can I memorize this Sêlune prayer or not?” he muttered to himself and downed the beer in one gulp.

Astarion had seen him before and that evening he had stared at Shadowheart the whole time. Was the barbarian building up – or drinking up - the courage to speak to Shadowheart next time?

The vampire was distracted from the barbarian when a pale woman walked past his table accompanied by a brown-haired man. He noticed them because they both had scars on their faces. But no, that wasn't it at all. Something else drew his attention to them...they smelled somehow, almost reeked of...swamp? No magic.

That same hidden scent of feymagic that came from the black haired adventuress with the freckles.

The woman's pale face was friendly, almost cheerful. She enjoyed the music and the sad ballad. Did she know the feelings and sad love that the Tiefling woman sang about?

Astarion was all the more struck by the face of the dark-clothed man with the scarred hands who accompanied her: he was rigid and joyless and his eyes had an almost malicious shimmer. He didn't seem to suit her. He walked rigidly like an aristocrat or a trained soldier, or was he rigid because of the blade - that was clearly visible to the Rogue - that he wore under his clothes?

The man's gaze fell on the bard's dagger earrings. But not only the brown-haired human looked at the earrings, but also a white-skinned, tall elf who walked behind him. Astarion didn't know what was more noticeable: his large deadly sword, the long white hair, the black tattoos on his face, or...or the earrings in the shape of a dagger that hung from his ears.

He nodded almost imperceptibly to the bard and she returned his nod briefly.

Frowning, Astarion averted his gaze and looked around the taproom.

Many of the guests listened attentively to the ballad. Couples in love held each other tightly and some wiped a tear from their face.

“���in the dark of the night I see your tears

Rubies glisten full of pain

Rage and misery

Don’t get lost in brandy, bergamot and rosemary”

The ballad finished gently and the bard stood up.

"Thanks! And now for the bard duet!”

With a wave of her hand, she invited her partner onto the stage.

Wild white hair adorned the scarred drow face. It looked like survival for Astarion.

She could be young and old at the same time, that's how it was always with the elves. Young pretty faces and centuries behind them. Sorrow, suffering, joy. Everything was possible.

The narrow waist with the subsequent curved hips and thighs with short pants was adorned with a weapon belt with a sword and a flute.

The skilled hand whirled out a shiny silver flute and the duo began to play:

„Two bards do the trick, because bards do it better

Drow or Tiefling, it doesn’t matter

Shiny white hair, or wagging tail

Their persuasion will never fail“

They quickly changed the melancholic mood and the silver flute had a captivating sound, as if it were a homage to a goddess.

“One plays the flute, the other smashes lutes

Buy us a drink and we’ll tell you who is who“

A Tiefling whose rosé colored hair matched her white pink frilly clothing cheered enthusiastically to the tavern song.

Astarion heard her applaud with a giggling laugh. Cute little laughs with a sweet smile upon her light face.

It was that kind of sweet laugh that told the vampire how innocent, unspoiled, kind and naive the person was.

Yes, the delicate Tiefling woman was a sweet, innocent thing, Astarion could tell that with just a sideways glance of his red eyes. The sweet and naive kind of girl that immediately fell for him. Who he easily ensnared and seduced for Cazador. Or was she one of the people he would have avoided because they were so naive...innocent, undeserving of it? He would probably have avoided her if possible because such a sweet, lovely person didn't deserve to fall victim to the vampires.

Astarion closed his eyes briefly and grimaced at the emerging memories that he immediately wanted to repress.

Thanks to his beloved Aristen, he no longer had to do this.

He was free.

Cazador dead.

All of Baldur's Gate saved, saved from the Empire of the Netherbrain and the Mind Flayers.

Yes, thanks to the blonde adventuress whose fate was forever intertwined with his and all her other companions, he had escaped his fate as a slave. Their courage and their determination, with the help of the other fighters, allowed him to defeat Cazador.

But not only that, the storm sorceress had also given him love and patience. And the confidence to be better than Cazador. He didn't need blood-soaked, soul-eating power to be safe, to be worth anything.

Astarion would never have to hurt innocent people against his will again.

All thanks to her.

And yet Aristen did not consider herself to be good, nor to be lovable.

She loathed herself for her actions as a born Bhaalspawn, which she only dimly remembered. No one could hate her more than she hates herself.

And perhaps it was even worse for her, imagining every day what atrocities she had committed in the name of the God of Murder instead of knowing for sure.

She didn't see herself as a lovable hero, a savior. Astarion wished so much that she could see herself through his eyes just once. Then she would finally forgive herself.

The problem was that the sarcastic vampire had never said that to her and perhaps never would. There would always be something gnawing inside him, at his battered heart, that would prevent him from casually revealing his innermost, deepest feelings. What if he did lose her to someone else one day?  If it would not be an arrow or observer to steal her from him? How could he then pretend that his vain heart had not been destroyed for all eternity?

Darkness crossed Astarion's face at all the thoughts and he shook his head with his white curls to drive them away.

Once again he let his gaze wander over the audience, while his pointy elven ears only casually listened to the singing of the bards. It was only thanks to his beloved Aristen that he was able to recognize the diversity of the guests gathered. To be recognized again.

It had once been a faceless mass. At some point, after all the years of slavery under Cazador, the people in the taverns had become nothing more than a uniform mush to him. Victims, cattle like sheep, to his master. Criminals who hurt him and whom he hurt in return and they became victims of the vampire lord.

Dark, blank faces.

Without eyes, without soul. Just like Astarion himself had felt.

But after Aristen came into his life - with the craziest tentacle adventure of his life - everything had gradually changed.

First he recognized her blue eyes, then her face. The smile of her lips plagued by guilt and bloody ghosts of the past. The same smile as his own.

Then he saw all the faces, the people, their stories and lives again.

He saw the colors. The differences and the similarities. He heard the voices, the laughter, the music. He noticed the scents and smells again. Astarion saw joy and life again.

A scent that stood out from the rest of the tavern's smells suddenly tickled Astarion's nose.

Orchid drifted discreetly from the front door.

A slightly tickling shiver ran over the tips of his elf ears, while Astarion was already peering towards the door with large, round eyes.

Like the true epiphany she was, a blonde woman made her way through the elven song. Her appearance truly stood out from the rest of the tavern's audience:

Her delicately pinned hair and a ladylike, sweeping blue dress made her truly look like a lady of name and rank.

Astarion smiled as he looked at Aristen's appearance.

She always made an effort to look chic and beautiful, no matter what the circumstances. Like a true lady who belonged in a ballroom and not a tavern.

A ballroom, not a bhaalroom.

But Aristen loved all facets of life and also sat in the meadow under a tree in the forest with her fancy dress on.

If Astarion had his way, then very soon she would be pressed into the grass beneath him with the dress rumpled.

He chuckled dirtyly to himself as he couldn't help but think of that thought. And before he even thought about the first visit to his grave together, he shook his head and pushed it all away from his white curls.

"Darling..." Astarion stood up after Aristen made her way to him, having spotted him with a smile beaming with joy, "...you give me all sorts of ideas as always."

“What do you mean?” the high elf asked in surprise and blinked in confusion because she couldn’t follow him.

“Nevermind little love,” Astarion grinned mischievously and briefly kissed her delicate hand in greeting. He gently stroked Aristen's hand again as he slowly lowered it.

“The sun has already set enough for you to go out, Astarion,” his lover informed him. She would pick him up when it was safe for him outside.

"I've already run errands from a few merchants," Aristen spoke as the two left the tavern.

"Nice. Then we can now buy the rest together. Have you got everything so far?” asked Astarion.

The blonde nodded as they stepped outside.

Astarion sucked the air outside the elfsong into his lungs. Had breathing changed since he became a vampire? After all, he was undead.

Astarion didn't know. He couldn't remember, it had been too long.

In addition, the past no longer counted - smiling, he glanced furtively at Aristen who was carrying the basket with the purchases - only the present and the future counted.

“Yes, I did the grocery shopping that wasn’t of interest to you,” the blonde laughed and winked knowingly. “There was wonderful blossom honey, I couldn't resist,” enthused the sorceress, rolling her eyes heavenly at the thought of it and licking her lips in anticipation of the taste of the honey.

“Then I can taste it from your lips and tongue,” Astarion whispered seductively.

"What?"

“Oh, nothing…” the pale elf just grinned again.

His pointed ears were suddenly tickled by the brush of her lips as she leaned in very close to him.

“I heard you very well, my dear,” she whispered to him, her blue eyes sparkling meaningfully at him after she leaned back and gave him a knowing smile.

The vampire laughed. It was a serious laugh. It went from its sonorous, seductive, dirty murmur to a deep rumble before dying out in a high-pitched spike.

“I saw such a beautiful pair of earrings in the window at the Glitter Gala,” sighed Aristen languidly after she continued the story.

“So why didn’t you buy it, darling?”

Aristen shook her head: “Because it’s not necessary. I prefer to save our money for important things. After all, magical artifacts are expensive and the most important thing is that we find something that makes you immune to the sun.”

Yes, that was the ambition and current mission of Aristen and Astarion: to find a way for the vampire spawn to walk in the sun again.

Their friends also kept their ears and eyes open.

Gale read every book that might contain useful information.

Shadowheart, as well as Lae'zel on her travels through the astral planes, always sent them messages when they heard about mysterious artifacts.

And Halsin and Jaheira also reached out to all their acquaintances from near and far.

"If you hadn't used so much of our gold to rebuild the city and help its people, then you could afford any jewelry you wanted," Astarion nudged her with his shoulder and winked knowingly. The slightly accusatory tone was just an act.

“You know I wanted to try to somehow make amends for my actions when I was under Bhaal's control. This will never work, I know that. I can't bring back the people I killed. But I can at least try to help those left behind. It's too little. It’s no consolation…but at least it’s something.”

There was sadness in the blonde's voice. The look in her blue eyes was sincere before they slid slightly to the ground.

Astarion didn't like that, so he decided to cover up the whole thing: "I don't know what you're doing with this penance and compensation anyway."

He casually folded his arms behind his head and sounded as indifferent as he could.

“But…” he grinned playfully at the blonde Sorceress, “we could visit The Counting House again with Minsc. Then we have enough money to play benefactors and buy jewelry and beautiful clothes.”

Aristen raised an eyebrow with an amused grin: "You want to volunteer to do something with Minsc, really?"

“Now that you mention it…argh…better not. You may find him amusing, but he's always bursting in to chatter about his hamster at the most inopportune times. The guard almost caught me picking the lock of the Tabernacle when he suddenly stood loudly behind me, screaming my name and his hug almost broke every bone in my body.”

“What did you want at the Stormshore Tabernacle outside of opening hours?” Aristen asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing!” Astarion quickly dismissed the topic. Too fast.

“What’s next on the list for today?”

“We really have to go to the Devil's Fee. It has finally opened since the devastating battle against the Netherbrain and the reprocessing. If there are special artifacts or information about them anywhere, it’s there!”

Astarion nodded eagerly and the two elves walked quickly through the streets of Baldur's Gate.

"Oh no! No no no!” Helsik shouted from afar as her eyes saw Aristen.

The Sorceress blinked in confusion at the violent reaction and she looked around to see if anyone else was behind her, as the shopkeeper thought she might be.

“Not you!”

"I? But…"

“Nothing but!” Helsik cut her off. “After last time, I already told you that it was too hot to be seen with you and that the store was off limits for now. After the fuss you caused with your little friend and the black-haired fuzzy head.”

Astarion grinned briefly. He knew exactly who the saleswoman was talking about. After all, they had learned of Bhaal's daughter's past and how she had been involved in the Grand Design.

“I have new business partners, so I don’t need loud attention, after all, hell operates quietly.”

“We don’t want to cause any problems, I swear!”

The vampire let his eyes wander over the lavish and devilishly mysterious display while Aristen soothed Helsik.

“We just want to buy an artifact or information. Nothing improper, nothing complicated, nothing dangerous. Just good old Mammon.”

“Child, you will never have as much gold as I want from you so that I can burn my fingers again because of you.”

"Are you sure? I'll pay any price...whether it's gold or otherwise. We're just looking for a way to break the vampire curse of being vulnerable to the sun. Please."

Helsik laughed briefly, compassionately, not maliciously: “Deary, at the Devil’s Fee we don’t break curses, it’s more about the other way. That should be clear to you from the name.”

“My Love…” Astarion slowly tore his eyes away from the display cases and stood next to Aristen again, “…let me talk to her. I think I can convince them better with less…emotional involvement based on old stories.”

“Are you sure?” Aristen asked, unconvinced.

“Of course, baby…” he was already pushed the Sorceress toward the exit, “…you go do the other errands in the meantime and leave this to me.”

Aristen left the devilish business and made her way to the large square of the lower city wall. She visited the arms dealers and her thoughts continued to dwell on the fact that if even devils couldn't find a way to free Astarion from his curse, who would?

She would never give up hope. Anyway, Helsik was probably right: if it was about help, then hell wouldn't be a good negotiating partner.

Maybe they should trust in nature, magic and clerics. The gods may not have heard Astarion then, but perhaps they could now request divine intervention?

The vampire could walk in the light of the Moon Maiden, perhaps Dame Aylin and Shadowheart could ask even more of Sêlune. Maybe she could expand her moonlight.

Perhaps…

“STOP IMMEDIATELY!”

Aristen was snapped out of her thoughts and the blacksmith who was stationed across from Sorcerous Sundries just handed her back Astarion's freshly sharpened dagger.

“COME BACK IMMEDIATELY!”

From the direction of the Devil's fee came rumbling, loud voices and, above all, lightning and sparks.

“Stop the criminal scum!” shouted a city guard. “Subject, let him stand still!”

“Where for?”

“That way!”

“Or rather there?”

“I thought I saw something in that direction…”

“Then I here, you there,” the steel armored guards rumbled.

The clatter of steel armor slowly faded from the blonde Sorceress's ears, but a perfume that differed from her own scent of orchid and rose reached her nose.

Aristen smelled cherries, musk, palmarosa, black pepper and…

“Does this belong to you, little mouse?”

…sulfur.

Raphael's slightly tanned complexion stood before her. His brown hair was done to perfection with meticulous work, as were his clothes. Large, sparkling brown eyes regarded her, both sublime and mischievous.

The devil in human disguise had the white-haired vampire in tow, holding him by the collar like a naughty schoolboy.

"Raphael..."

“So you still know my name. Ah…very good. Tell the wizard of yours that too. Hopefully he’s still looking for my crown?”

Aristen nodded: “We defeat the brain. The crown will then be at your disposal. That’s how it was settled.”

“Excuse me…” the vampire groused

The devil released Astarion, who grumbled and moved his shoulders.

“Stealing from a shop that has connections straight to hell, very very naughty.”

As was his style, Raphael moved his hands theatrically while his voice whispered mellifluously. The reprimand was more than just played as amusing.

“Anyway, you were there in vain. There is nothing to buy there that could solve the vampire's little “problem”. Otherwise they would all be walking around here freely in the sunlight. Or not?”

The devil made a sweeping gesture and looked around ostentatiously before laughing.

“I'll talk to Helsik and smooth things over, after all you don't sleep well in unmade beds like in clover. But tell your wizard that it is my crown. When he finds it, he has agreed to hand it over to me immediately. Not to Mystra and he certainly shouldn’t get the foolish idea of ​​using it himself.”

“He is not my wizard,” Aristen clarified briefly, “Gale belongs to no one but himself. Mystra also has nothing to command him.”

“Does he see it that way too? Or does he like to be walked on a leash? He always just does what others tell him. After all, his own decisions are the stupidest I've ever seen...and I've literally seen it all."

“You mean as stupid as wanting to rule the crown of Karsus?”

“Haha…careful, little mouse,” laughed Raphael. “Just make sure I get the crown as quickly as possible.”

“When Gale finds it, you get the crown. That was the deal. We stick to that. But you'll have to be patient. It wasn't intended that the crown and the stones would be lost again, but it was hard to prevent it when the Netherbrain fell into the sea during the fight."

“I'm surprised you're so relaxed about this. You can't put me on a leash as easily as you can put the vampire spawn on a leash. Or was it rather the other way around and you Astarion put the former Bhaalspawn on a docile short leash?”

Mischief sparkled in the brown eyes of the human-shaped Cambion. There was a subtle, biting, malicious provocation in his words, which he spoke with a sonorous purr, as always.

Astarion's face contorted a little and the vampire barely suppressed a roll of his ruby-colored eyes. For a moment he seemed like a disgruntled cat.

"I think I liked you better when you just rhymed all the time," Astarion replied sassy.

Raphael laughed briefly, unimpressed: “Whatever. Less dawdling and making long fingers, but more diving for the crown,” reprimanded the devil with a raised eyebrow.

The devil wrinkled his nose slightly at the vampire spawn before turning back to Aristen and giving her his full attention.

“By the way, greetings from your fiery friend Karlach and her rapier-wielding colleague Wyll Ravengard.”

“Why are you ordering greetings from Karlach and Wyll? Have you met them?”

“Well, those two made themselves quite a name all around Avernus,” Raphael smiled in his smug way, “furthermore, I greatly welcome their actions against Zariel’s forces.”

He made one of his swinging hand movements with his manicured fingers: “I would like to invite you all to my House of Hope to linger, relax and chat. So you can catch up. You know, the Crown of Karsus is the key that grants you access. And until that happens…fare thee well, little mouse. I hope I will see you soon, knocking on the door of my house.”

As was his style, Raphael bowed expansively and his scent of leather, cedar, lily, rose, oud, vanilla and sandalwood disappeared into a swirl of sparks and sulphur.

“He hasn’t forgotten his flair for great performances. I don't know whether I should admire it or whether he's starting to get on my nerves with it," Astarion sighed briefly before straightening his shoulders and straightening his doublet with a quick tug.

"Anyways..." the vampire turned to another topic, "...I think it would be a good idea if we get out of the immediate area while the city guards are wandering around here."

The elf touched Aristen's elbow to encourage her to leave.

“What did you want to take from the store anyway, in the first place?” Aristen wanted to know from Astarion, curious and skeptical.

“Well…” he started to press and scratched the back of his white curls, “…I saw something…”

"And what was so terribly interesting that you would risk to be arrested by the Flaming Fist?"

“Well...it reminded me of you...and...I thought you should have it. But Helsik is really a cutthroat bitch with exorbitant prices.”

Aristen smiled good-naturedly: “Oh Astarion…”

“However…here…”

The vampire held out a white silk scarf to the storm sorceress.

Aristen's eyes widened. You could see from the shimmer and the way the fabric fell that it wasn't just silk that was woven there. It was definitely the weave itself and more that was at work there. Depending on how it fell and how you moved it, a golden blue shimmered.

“The scarf reminded me of the one you told me about. You know, the scarf with your name on it that you were found wearing as a baby in the Bhaal Temple. It’s one of the few memories you have left.”

The vampire took out a borealis blue thread from his pocket and began to embroider “Aristen” into the scarf.

“I wanted you to have something that you could never lose, that could never be destroyed, that had your name on it. Because if something ever happened again that made you forget...that made you forget yourself, at least you would always have your name with you. Then you know that you are Aristen. Not the daughter of the murder god. Not the chosen one of Bhaal. No Bhaalspawn. Just you. You are Aristen.”

The vampire began to embroider an “&” sign into the scarf.

“And well…” Astarion began to shuffle uncomfortably again and focused entirely on his work so that he didn’t have to look his lover in the eyes, “…if you ever forget something again, then you’ll know that we belong together. I don't want you to ever forget me. And so you also always carry my name with you.”

The vampire finished his work and the white scarf now embroidered with new memories read: "Aristen & Astarion"

“There is nothing in the world that would ever make me forget you, Astarion,” the high elf spoke softly.

She closed the distance between the two of them and kissed Astarion. The elf slowly closed his eyes as their lips met. His cool, hers warm. He felt her breathing life into him as they kissed.

"Thank you so much," the blonde said after they pulled away from each other, "you can't imagine how much this means to me. I love you, Astarion."

Aristen held the silky, white and blue scarf in her hands, stroked the pale elf's blue embroidery and smiled. "I think this used to be the color of your eyes too."

She smiled softly, as soft as the silky fabric of the scarf felt on her soft hands. Hands too soft for the crimes they had probably committed earlier in the name of Bhaal. In a previous life.

Aristen raised her eyes, which were also blue, and caught Astarion by surprise. Speechless.

That rarely happened.

Very rarely did the vampire find himself without words.

“Ah, I…” he took a breath to say something, but he lacked a suitable response, so he could only hold his breath, taken aback.

The gentle look in his lover's eyes and her words had triggered something in Astarion that he still couldn't handle: affection, sincere love.

Towards him and in his own heart.

The white-haired vampire exhaled and smiled just as gently at his beloved Aristen.

He reached out his cool hand to her and placed it against her rosy cheek. The blonde nestled herself a little in the vampire's hand and her gaze lingered lovingly in Astarion's now ruby-colored eyes.

“You never stop surprising me,” his whispering voice sounded sincere and just as genuine was the smile he continued to give her.

It was a smile that acknowledged how happy he was, partly surprised, partly just realizing that he wasn't really surprised anymore. And perhaps that was what surprised Astarion the most.

It was a day like any other.

A day like any other.

One day in the rest of their life.

Their life together.

And it was beautiful.

And he would never want it any other way.

📜🪶📜🪶💙🎻🫧🌹🌸🌹🫧🎻💙🪶📜🪶📜

➹a/n: i just gave my own Tav Saulus a little cameo guest appearance  😉 in the style of AU I also inserted aristenfromwarsaws other OC Devana, like a little, what are all the other tavs doing when not being the main character

the great Tavs of my lovely mutuals also did a tiny cameo:

Nala Hartwick of @evander-jane

Thomas Rosewood and Nana of @alpydk

Lovely Vierith of @goromimii jamming with my Saulus, best bardic duo

Mavka of @pinkberrytea

I hope I did the slice of life good justice and you all could taste, feel, smell, hear the life through all the description of scents, etc.

[strangersteddierthings]

Plot Idea I'll never fully flush out or write but gotta get out of my head or it'll never let me know peace again. It's basically Steve sent from the future going all John Wick. if YOU want to take this plot and write it, or if it inspires you to write something, tag me in it. I'd love to read it.

A 26-year-old Steve Harrington gets sent back to the morning of November 6, 1983. IDK if it's like El using her powers to punch a hole in time or like, some other way but everyone still alive has given him something to use as proof of his time-travel and get their younger versions to believe him, because he's got a time limit. No idea how long, but once he's altered history enough that the timeline he left ceases to exist, so will he.

No one he cares about dies this time. It's the mantra playing on repeat in his head as he looks down at the notebook that took Nancy almost three full days of nonstop writing to fill. It's the entire timeline of events, gathered and recounted by everyone still alive, because this Steve has been fighting a losing battle since Spring Break of '86 because Henry won and Hawkins got torn apart and it's been a fight to survive ever since. He's going to stop that from happening.

No one dies this time.

Will doesn't get taken that night, because this Steve is already waiting for him at his house. From Will's perspective this is just some Guy but he's more scared of whatever chased him home then of the person on his doorstep. So, Steve tells him to hang tight and all but shoves him into the house before cutting himself somewhere on his arm and stepping onto the lawn yelling out 'come and get me, ugly'. Of course, the blood draws the demogorgon. And while 17-year-old Steve was no match for just one, this Steve has been fighting packs of them for years now.

He's armed to the teeth and takes it down with precision. He's not unharmed, just one is still fast and dangerous. Steve knows how to fight them now, though. He covers the dead demogorgon with a tarp he stole from his own garage earlier that day and sits on the front porch to wait for Joyce and Jonathan.

Will is both terrified and awed.

Somehow, someway, he gets the Byers to listen. Shows them the dead demogorgon and gives Joyce the notebook from his backpack.

"Read it, and if you aren't convinced, I have more proof of its contents."

And he leaves. The next morning, he has to find El before Benny does, which he succeeds at but just barely. El is skittish and afraid but Steve gets her to trust him. Maybe because her powers brought him back here, she feels a connection to him, a trust that's there instinctively?

He returns to the Byers' house, carrying El the whole way. He stays off the main roads because people are going to recognize him as Steve Harrington and the less people that see him, the better.

Joyce lets him in and immediately fusses over El. Gives her some of Wills clothes to wear.

She's read the notebook cover to cover and has questions. Steve has answers and digs into his backpack to find the item the Joyce from his timeline gave him for proof. Maybe the proof is the same for everyone - individually recorded cassette tapes of their own voices telling them impossible things. Other proof consists of a photo album, pictures of everyone, the destruction of Hawkins, and of the ramshackle home they'd built in the remains of the apocalypse.

Then something something, details pending, everyone gets filled in on the danger that's coming. Maybe the kids get left out this time, get to just be kids or maybe they don't.

Steve meets his younger self and that's just a whole Deal but eventually he gets his younger self to listen. He tells him that being a jackass isn't worth it, and that he's not going to have a reason to change who he is in this timeline, because the events that lead to him being a better person don't happen. He's not going to have his whole life uprooted, so if he wants to be a better, nicer person, he's going to have to pick that life for himself.

Steve doesn't know if his younger self will listen, but he hopes.

Steve hunts down Brenner and shoots him point blank in cold blood. No regrets. Then he shoots the corpse a couple more times. He doesn't get to hurt El ever again. It's only after that that Steve feels the shift, knows that he's going to cease existing by the end of the day, and there's one thing left he needs to do.

He gets Hopper to let him post up with him in his police car at Forest Hills Trailer Park so he can try and catch a glimpse of Eddie Munson, alive and well.

Hopper asks who Eddie is to him.

"Nothing. We never got a chance. Will never get a chance," Steve answers. "Your Steve Harrington won't ever have a reason to even look his way. He died, back in '86. He didn't need to. He shouldn't have."

"You spy on all the other people who died?" Hopper asks. It's not judgmental, just curious.

"No," Steve says, then decides to be honest because he's going to be gone soon anyway, "I barely knew Eddie, but I wanted to love him anyway. Fell in love with his memory, from stories told to me by the kids and Wayne. We were nothing to each other when he was alive, but he could have been everything if we'd gotten a chance."

They don't talk after that. Steve gets to see Eddie arrive home, jump from his van full of life and vibrance and if Hopper notices his silent cry, he politely ignores it.

They drive out to the quarry after. Steve doesn't know what it's going to mean for him to stop existing and he didn't really want a witness to it, but Hopper insisted someone should be or else they'll all just wonder about it.

They stand looking out across the water. Hopper sees something from the corner of his eye and turns to look at Steve but he's not there anymore.

There's nothing left of the Steve Harrington from the future but his actions and a photocopy of the notebook that Nancy made because she wanted to study it, but Joyce didn't want to let it out of her sight. The cassettes, photo's, and original notebook all just disappear before everyone's eyes.

The fight's not over. Henry is still alive, but they're more prepared for him this time around. They know what to expect.

Hopefully that'll be enough this time around.

[jcollinswrites]

If you thought I was joking before about the mandarins... 😆

[mercurial-thrills]

7 Writing Tips From An Amateur Writer

Let’s get to the point: I’m an amateur writer. I am unqualified to give professional advice on the art of storytelling, grammar, or syntax. My only published work is a letter to the editor from the newspaper. Writing advice comes better from proofreaders, editors, published authors, and English majors.

On the other hand, my experience as an amateur is filled with wisdom. I learned to write as I wrote unintended novellas and short stories, watching YouTube videos from other published authors, and editing my manuscripts with the tips I found online. By learning how to write, I learned other writing-related skills to improve my craft.

In this blog post, I have 7 writing tips for amateurs, by an amateur writer. Most of them came from my own experimentation and thought processes, others are adapted from non-writing related ideas on the Internet.

Focus on your own path. This is one of the most important writing tips, because people often get caught up in what others do, to the point where they forget about their own craft. The phenomenon of “comparisonitis” can leave us feeling drained after spending time comparing ourselves to other writers.

When you read a novel, keep in mind it has been edited to be neat and organized. When you see another amateur with a high word count on their NaNoWriMo novel, keep in mind you have different circumstances than them. Create your own goals and stick with them, making sure they are tailored to your own needs!

Write with quality in mind. Before I decided I wanted to write as a hobby, my “chapter books” ranged from 10 to 20 pages. When writing became my biggest passion in life, my first draft of Secrets came out as 60 pages. For reference, a page in Microsoft Word or Google Docs is usually 400 words long with the default font.

These stories helped me form an understanding of outlining, plotting, and character creation. Without these stories, I would not know how to develop my characters throughout the story and move the plot.

This is why I do not recommend for beginners to try NaNoWriMo when they recognize their passion. The focus on the 50,000 word count creates a heightened importance of words while putting plot development, setting, and characters on the back burner. However, that’s a topic for November.

Writing will not always be enjoyable. Writing is one of my favourite hobbies. Writing in my diary helps relax me after a stressful day. I vent my emotions and frustrations through my characters, reflecting my personality onto them. I care about my craft deeply, more so when the words flow smoothly. However, the words will not always be smooth.

Sometimes, it will frustrate you to fill a plot hole. Editing can be mind numbingly boring. Writing can sometimes leave you with anxiety, wondering if it is something you truly want to pursue. Writing will not always come easily. If you love writing, it is worth keeping around when it gets difficult.

Do not edit while writing a chapter. When it comes to writing, it is better to write out everything instead of pressing “backspace” every time you believe something sounds weird. Finish writing the chapter, or any chunk of writing, then go back and review it. As long as you are writing with an erasable object, you can always go back and change what your past self has written.

Back in my elementary school days, I overheard two fellow writers speaking about this issue, discussing how they always went to edit after writing a chapter. Remember: you do not need to edit a chapter after you have written it. Many authors on Authortube will recommend waiting a week to two months, or after the whole draft has been written. Personally, I choose not to edit after the draft is finally finished, and my waiting time depends on the piece of work.

Join a community of writers. This can be done through clubs at schools, social media, or online chat rooms. You can either be interacting often, or lurking. This will keep your brain in the mindset of “writing” and remind you of your craft. It can help you learn more about the craft of writing through simple conversations. This can help you make connections to other authors as well as potential beta readers.

When you are in a community, remember to be civil. Keep an open mind and give constructive criticism when wanted. If you make a mistake, apologize and move on from it.

Balance reading and writing. If you have looked online for writing advice, you know people recommend reading as a way to get better at writing. I agree with this, because it can help a young writer come up with ideas and understand how to write.

Before I started to write, I read voraciously. The reason I know so many dialogue tags is because of the Abby Hayes series by Anne Mazer. When I started writing more often, many of my ideas for Secrets came from the book Masterminds by Gordon Korman. If you read, you may start absorbing ideas from other authors and colliding them together to create your own, unique masterpiece.

And finally, enter a writing contest once you have developed your skills. As of January, I have never entered a writing contest. In fact, I never thought my writing would be worthy of a writing contest. After spending 5 years improving my craft, I am confident in my writing for it to be judged.

Winning isn’t everything in life, but preparing to win is important. If you decide to start publishing your novels, entering a writing contest will encourage you to edit and proofread your submission, making sure it is as perfect as possible.

A quick search for “creative writing contests” can bring quick results. If you are Canadian, CBC is an invaluable resource for writing contests. Wattpad has writing contests as well. These will be linked at the end of the article.

These 7 tips are unrelated to setting, character development, and plotting. Still, they are an important part of the writing journey. They all came from what helped me learn to write, and what I believe will benefit other amateur writers.

Does anyone else have any other advice to share? Let me, and others, know in the comments below. All advice and friendly debate is appreciated!

CBC Literary Prizes A Guide To Writing Prizes For Young Canadians | CBC Books Writing Contests On Wattpad

Wattpad Contests | Ambassadors

[sabraeal]

Hey! I’m a reader who really loves one of your works! Man of Progress but that isn’t relevant, what is is I want to make you feel good with your readership and make you (and others) rare pair writing much more rewarding! Please advise on your favorite types of comments and other things we as nonreaders can do to make the writer/reader relationship more reciprocal!

Thank you for asking! Honestly, most comments are completely okay so long as they are not like a one line, "when is this going to update" or like "is this abandoned." I think the dream is people who really get into their comments and give you quotes and essays and all that, but most of us are just happy to know people are enjoying it.

Other things you can do is reblog (or retweet, share, etc)! Each social media platform has their own way of feeding their algorithm, so reblogging is a big deal on tumblr and likes & retweets are equally important on twitter, etc. It's helpful in getting our fics in front of more people who would be interested in them, and it's not something people do often anymore, since fics often don't fit the aesthetic of blogs, or people get very in their own head about showing what fics they like. I always like to scream in the tags of my reblogs because it's fun, but that's also entirely optional.

[autumn-elwood]

Oh, Grunkle Stan of Gravity Falls fame, please give me a bit of your lying con man swag so I can actually write a cover letter from the perspective of my worksona

[illarian-rambling]

I'm bored and in heavy procrastination mode rn, so ima try something new!

Do you remember those old newspaper advice columns? People would write in with questions, usually about relationships, and receive advice? I thought it'd be pretty neat to try that with one of my own characters answering questions from your characters! And so, here's your chance to...

💕Ask Elsind!💫

Worried you might be misjudging your vampire boyfriend's level of commitment? Magic powers getting in the way of making out? Cursed to remain as a hideous bird monster until your true love gives up on you? Ask Elsind! Questions don't have to be romantic in nature, but that is this changeling's specialty. Pop a question into my inbox addressed to them (or any of my other characters, if you'd like their opinion), and I'll give the answer they would come up with.

(All I ask is nothing overly nsfw. Flex those euphemism muscles if you must. I believe in you!)

But yeah! Does your character have a problem? Elsind has (maybe) a solution! Stop on by and see what their advice is :)

(And, of course, have a bitchin day)

@amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks

@bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast

@the-angriest-author @mk-writes-stuff @frostedlemonwriter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @watermeezer

@leahnardo-da-veggie @mr-orion @televisionjester @ray-writes-n-shit @evilgabe29

@trippingpossum @tragedycoded @halfbakedspuds @ominous-feychild @cain-e-brookman

@wyked-ao3 @thecomfywriter

[fortjester]

[seoafin]

hello from one writer to another how do you handle engagement levels on fics? I've been following you for so long and I don't think I've ever seen you mention anything about likes/reblogs...how do you do it unbothered queen

hiiiii i've been avoiding asks like these because i get them every couple of months because i honestly don't have an answer that might help

truthfully from one writer to another i literally do not care that much i guess. even when i was on more often low engagement never really bothered me because there were people willing to read my fics and comment and im so so so lucky and forever grateful for that. i don't even like tagging my fics in the main tags. when i first started this blog i didn't realize you could use specialized tags to organize your blog so now i mainly tag for organizational purposes more than to put it out there.

not to say i don't understand ppl who put are understandably discouraged by low engagement, but i've been seeing...quite a lot of discourse surrounding what readers owe writers and if you've been here long enough you'll know i've always been staunchly on the side of readers don't owe you anything. yes reviews are kind and super encouraging!!!! but harassing and or strongarming people into reviewing your fics is kinda embarrassing. fics flop! it happens! but also at the same time you don't owe people your writing either.

[zestyzigzagoon]

I've made this same exact post before but something has prompted it again✌️. I am such an agreeable person until it comes to writing advice posts. For whatever reason, they instill within me the kind of argumentative contrarianism that you'd see in an ancient Greek fable that warns people against being a pedantic shrew, lest Athena strike them down into a literal etruscan shrew. But it's me, I'm the pedantic soon-to-be-etruscan shrew, and the best fic writing advice I've ever seen is to do whatever makes you happy and to ignore all advice that does not serve you well.

Because, like, look. Are there conventions of writing that might make your writing more widely palatable? Sure, but that's not everyone's goal, and nothing annoys me more than 'beginner advice' that effectively just teaches new writers to mindlessly conform and to deviate from their own unique style. There is nuance to be had with discussions of fanworks versus published fiction, where palatability is a financial concern, but writing advice should not put itself forth as being the best for both of those things at once.

(Also- nitpicking the precise wording of certain advice- the only definitive is that there are no true definitives, and someone's doing to break your rule and do it well. They will ignore your 'always' and do your 'never' and make it work.)

[the-casbah-way]

the best writing advice i can give you is to ignore all of those people who insist there are a bunch of rules you need to follow in order to be a Good Writer, or are so painfully terrified of doing anything that has been done before or could be deemed cliched that they end up shoving themselves into a tiny box they’ve invented that completely restricts them creatively and stunts any kind of genuine growth they might get to experience as a writer. i ignore the rules of grammar fucking constantly if i think it serves the tone of my narrative better, because i think a sentence that’s ‘too long’ and doesn’t have enough punctuation is a GOOD thing if you want to illustrate a frantic or stressed person’s mindset. i WILL write the most stereotypical cheesy ending to a story because sometimes it just makes the most sense to do that because of the themes and conflicts im working with and im not going to force myself NOT to do it just because it’s ‘predictable’ or someone else did it before me (guess what everything has been done already and doing something that has literally never been done before is not actually what originality is). stop scaring yourself away from exploring and finding your own unique writing style just because someone is telling you you need to obsess over and memorise a load of non existent rules that people often just throw around to make themselves sound intelligent (it’s not working. you are dumb)

[sunnyxjarrus]

I haven’t decided who I want as my other two perspectives or at least one more (I am thinks main character 2’s brother and best friend or maybe his sister even [I can’t pass the bechdel test if I don’t have a female perspective] or maybe just a side character that I haven’t even thought of yet, I don’t know[HELP ME!] But it’s okay)