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newcaptainofsquad9 · 4 months

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Some tips to help you improve your writing style:

1. Read widely: Reading a variety of genres and authors exposes you to different writing styles and helps you develop a broader vocabulary and an understanding of various sentence structures. For example, if you want to improve your descriptive writing, read books by authors known for their vivid imagery like J.R.R. Tolkien or Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

2. Write regularly: Like any skill, writing improves with practice. Set aside dedicated time for writing, whether it's a journal entry, a short story, or an essay. Consistency is key. By writing regularly, you'll become more comfortable expressing your ideas and develop your unique voice.

3. Be mindful of your audience: Tailor your writing style to suit your target audience. Consider their level of familiarity with the subject matter, their interests, and their expectations. For instance, if you're writing a scientific paper for experts in the field, use technical language and provide in-depth analysis. On the other hand, if you're writing a blog post for a general audience, use accessible language and relatable examples.

4. Use active voice and strong verbs: Active voice makes your writing more direct and engaging. It emphasizes the subject performing the action rather than the action itself. For example, instead of saying "The ball was thrown by John," use "John threw the ball." Strong verbs also add clarity and power to your writing. Compare "He walked slowly" with "He sauntered" or "He ambled."

5. Vary sentence structure: Experiment with different sentence lengths and structures to maintain reader interest. A mix of short, medium, and long sentences can create rhythm and flow. For example, a series of short, punchy sentences can build tension or convey urgency, while longer sentences can provide detailed explanations or set a contemplative tone.

6. Use precise and vivid language: Choose words that convey your meaning precisely and evoke vivid imagery. Instead of saying "The flower looked pretty," you could say "The delicate blossom bloomed in vibrant shades of crimson and gold." Specific and descriptive language brings your writing to life and engages the reader's senses.

7. Edit and revise: Good writing often requires multiple rounds of editing. After you finish a draft, take the time to review and revise your work. Look for clarity, coherence, and grammar errors. Consider whether each sentence contributes to the overall message and whether the organization of your ideas flows logically. Don't be afraid to make significant changes if they improve your writing.

8. Seek feedback: Share your work with trusted friends, colleagues, or writing groups. Constructive feedback can help you identify blind spots and areas for improvement. Consider their suggestions while maintaining your unique voice and style.

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newcaptainofsquad9 · 5 months

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Was This Vacation a Mistake?~Crazy Rich Asians (Astrid x black! fem! reader) ~Part 3

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Summary: After a traumatic night, you decide to stay with Astrid a few nights before you depart back to America. The situation left you angry and terrified, but Astrid proved to be an amazing hostess and a shoulder to cry on.

Word Count:

Warnings: Talk of racism and microaggressions.

Author’s Note: Here’s part 3 guys! As always tell me how this is going so far and what you like about it. Idk if this is good or not but I really want to finish this series soon. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy.

The cup of tea Astrid offered grew cold in my hands as I sat on her fine couch in the living room, my head against Rachel’s shoulder. Astrid strolled back into the room, returning from putting her son Cassain back to bed.

“Do you need anything else, Y/N?” Astrid said as she circled the couch and leaned against its back. “Blanket or something, you and Rachel look like you’re about done for the night.”

She wasn’t wrong, my eyes were heavy and Rachel was quiet for a while. Her phone dinged, awakening her from her semi sleepy state.

“Mmh, N-Nick! He’s outside!” she said, eyes and fingers sweeping her phone simultaneously.

I sat up to the best of my abilities and try not to blink too much with grogginess and stress already pulsing around my temple. Grading papers should have been the move from the beginning; I wasn’t welcome here from the start, people like me weren’t welcome from the start.

“Y/N,” Nick’s caring voice broke me from my thoughts thankfully. He stood in the center of Astrid’s living room with Rachel at his arm, his eyes sparkling in concern. “First of all, I’m so sorry this happened. Come here.”

Nick pulled me into his arms, nearly making me weep from the contact. His tall frame was soothing, yet I felt terrible because of all that’s happened; this happened because of me. If I stayed home, they wedding would have gone on, Rachel probably wouldn’t have to worry as much as she has to. I wouldn’t be the center in all this, so much pity. It isn’t pity, I should know that, it’s racism. Full blown racism in my face and I can’t fathom it for some reason. I don’t know why. Frustration pooled at me, tears and heat pricked my skin and eyelids.

“Y/N? Are you all right?” Nick asked. He pulled back to pat my elbows.

Rachel sunk to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Y/N?”

“I-I’m OK. I-I’m fine, I-I just need a night to, I don’t know, forget all of this,” you said as you leaned into Rachel. “I want to go home though, I’m sorry, guys.”

Nick shook his head. “No, no. In fact, I booked you a ticket home the day after tomorrow. First class of course, my friends stay in style. It’s the least I can do for how uncouth and down right disgusting my family and our associates were. I can even book you the best hotel around here.”

The thought was nice, a little too nice but I had to declined.

“Sorry, Nick, I don’t think that’d be a great idea. Don’t want to seem out of place again.”

“Would a coastal house work? A short heli ride would get you there in--”

“Nick, I don’t think that’ll help,” Rachel said, cutting him off. “Traveling somewhere that isn’t home won’t help, yeah? Y/N?”

I nodded. Nick’s amazing, I love him but throwing money at everything isn’t going to bring me the comfort he thinks it will. It is endearing though.

“She can stay here for tonight, tomorrow as well,” Astrid said, speaking up from her position behind the couch, hand smoothing out the plushness of it. “Anything she needs, I’ll be willing to provide, no issue.”

My heart skipped a beat at the offer; Rachel’s trying not to grin from ear to ear, brought me closer by the shoulder to look at me with those brown eyes. They’re still glossy, all authentic for me I know but know she’s using them to her advantage I swear.

“Astrid sounds like great company, yeah?” she said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “She’ll look out for you, I promise.”

Nick embraced Astrid prior to turning back to Rachel and I. “Thank you, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

Astrid smiled, it reached her beauty mark, highlighting her face perfectly. How was I going to survive a night in her home? Two nights even. Rachel beamed back as if she heard my mental question, squeezing my shoulders.

“You got this, call us when you feel a little better. OK?”

I nodded. Rachel and Nick gave me quick hugs, doing the same with Astrid before they left, leaving me alone with her. Alone with Astrid Leong. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with all that’s happened.

“Y/N?” Astrid called.

Her voice soft, as it was before yet lower, tender. I didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want her pity. I just want to go home already.

“Y/N?” she called again. I glanced at her, she’s close now, right in front of me; the pity I harped on wasn’t there in her eyes though, hurt and worry, similar to how she seemed at Nick’s grandmother’s house.

“C-Can I hug you?” she asked, opening her arms a bit. Her mouth twitched in a tiny smile while she hesitated with her movements. “Hugs always put me at ease, I-I want to put you at ease.”

The word ease broke me, almost. Tears pricked at my eyes, Astrid found them as she inched closer. She didn’t hug me though, still gauging my reaction. I nodded and met her in a warm embrace; it eased me as she said: her arms wound around me perfectly, fit me well and the tears slipped. A sob broke through too. Why the fuck am I crying? I was supposed to forget about all of that shit.

“It’s all right, darling. Let it out, it’s OK,” Astrid whispered. She pulled back to wipe my tears. She nodded to her couch. “Want to sit?”

I nodded, pursed my lips to keep from tasting the salty tears.

Astrid led me by the hand toward the couch, left some space between us when we got there, still holding onto me. Her touch proved pleasant, more so than it has been before--I was at ease. Her hand wrapped around my own wasn’t a huge deal either. I’m not even sure how long I can last but its working so far.

“T-Thank you, i-it means a lot, letting me stay here,” I managed to say. Astrid’s thumb rubbed my knuckles a little prior to her pulling it away.

“It’s nothing you have to thank me for,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it at all?”

This is a safe space I realize, however I’m not completely sure about opening up about these racially charged encounters. Sure, she’s non-white but like Rachel, sometimes it’s difficult bringing these matters up and talking through them. Sometimes I just need to deal with it on my own, then again, I do need to talk it out--somewhat.

“I-I just expected to tag along with Rachel and for this to be a normal vacation,” I started. “But I got centered, I-I should have known. Anti-blackness is global. I should have thought about it more, researched. I’m a professor for God’s sake, I always tell my students this. Maybe this vacation was a mistake, maybe I should have just stayed home.”

Astrid’s hands flocked to mine again, her eyes glossy once more. “No matter how much research or preparedness you set yourself up for, no one deserves to be harassed or see something like that.”

I nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s the same. We both experience some fucked shit, I’m sure, you went to schools in England right? Most of those posh white folks, right?”

Astrid giggled at the description. “They were the living embodiment of posh. And you’re right. My experience is not the same but I can tell you about them. Take some of the weight off from today. Will that help?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Maybe I said it too quickly. It was her touches and how intense she looked to me: attentiveness deep in her brown eyes, paying all the mind to me, I had to glance to the spotless carpet below.

“As you know, or maybe you don’t, I’m not sure how much Nick has shared about me, I attended Harvard during university,” Astrid explained. She ceased holding my hands, calming my heart for a bit. “At this time, I was eighteen, away from home with enough money to make my posh peers turn their heads. Unfortunately, my money wasn’t the only thing they noticed.”

Astrid grimaced and I didn’t want her to delve back into anything like that. It’s different yes, but it can still hurt people. Rachel’s told me plenty.

“Astrid, you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much,” I said. My hand moved on instinct, holding her hand myself. “I-I get it.”

“Darling, it’s fine,” she said. “It’s not the most pleasant story to look back on but it happened. First semester, I was the only Asian girl in my class. There was an Asian boy, but he flocked with the white boys and a grade above me so there wasn’t too much we’d mutually have in common besides our ethnicity. I was Astrid the princess, according to Nick and I wished my white peers saw me as just some spoiled girl. Instead I was Astrid the girl who could grant you a happy ending; Astrid the girl who had to sit up front because her eyes were too slanted. There was worse things but, Y/N, you shouldn’t have to limit yourself because of what history has done. What these systems and institutions have done. Don’t let that stop you.”

She’s right. Astrid’s absolutely right. The dam broke again at this obvious realization and I’m crying again, trembling and all.

Astrid just pulled me toward her, embracing me yet again. I feel so stupid.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed against her shoulder. “I-I don’t mean to do this. I hate feeling like this.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s OK.”

We stayed like that for a while: Astrid wrapping her arms around my back, my head against her chest, heartbeat nearly lulling me to sleep. Tiny footsteps neared however, along with a few creaks of the floor and staircase.

“Mommy?”

Astrid tore herself away to face the child standing in a purple satin sleep shirt and matching pants. His hair askew, face clearly scrunched up from sleep. Cassian. Astrid’s son. I pulled myself further from Astrid, wishing I could sink into the couch altogether.

“And what are you doing up, sweetie?” Astrid said, grin plastered on her face, not feeling awkward about her son seeing his mother hug a woman he doesn’t know. “You should be in bed.”

Cassian rubbed his eyes with the back of a fist, attention on me while Astrid lifted him up to her lap, showing the boy off to me.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Astrid’s eyes shined, love filling them to the brim as she stared at her son, then to me. I still wanted to disappear; Astrid’s got my heart flipping again and skin set to a scorch. Maybe Rachel had a point, definitely not telling her about all the details of tonight.

“This is Y/N, Nick and mommy’s friend and our guest for a few nights,” she cooed, kissing Cassian on the forehead. “How about we go settle in bed and give her some space, hmm?”

I waved at the boy awkwardly. He seemed delicate in Astrid’s arms, fluttering his eyes, squishing and yawning as she stood engulfing the boy in tender love.

“C-Can you read me a story too?” Cassain whined.

“Of course we can, my love,” Astrid said. She was halfway up the stairs; I couldn’t stop looking at her. She turned back toward me, voice dropping a bit.“I’ll bring you some blankets to get comfortable, darling.”

Astrid’s gone before I can react, off to her motherly duties like the day we met. I’ve talked with her, seen her heart, been catered by her heart and I’m still skeptical about the entire thing. A mother, divorcee and a rich person. Rich rich. Loaded and her actions, her demeanor already triggers me, in a great yet intense way. Is she just being nice? Or is Rachel right? Should I talk to Nick about this? Should I not take this venture? Leave it alone before something drastic occurs again, her family is still old money, old traditions, old systems. Maybe I shouldn’t be looking at a potential straight woman like this?

The thoughts continued to linger while I sunk deeper into the couch.

Astrid returned after a while, a set of fancy comforters and covers hulking her arms. “I wish I would have prepared the guest room better but the couch is just as comfortable. Make yourself at home, stretch as much as you’d like, all right?”

I nodded, laid across the couch and reached up for the covers. Astrid pouted and shook her head.

“No, no. Let me, I am your hostess after all,” she said as she fluffed up the covers. “I need everyone under my roof safe, sound and more importantly, tucked in.”

My face and heart raced among-est each other each time Astrid placed a layer on me, tucked a cover against my arm and back, patted in place. She’s so close, there’s no way she’s just being nice.

“Y/N? Are you all right? This didn’t make you uncomfortable, did it?”

I shook my head fervently. “No, this is so much more than I can ask for Thank you.”

Astrid’s eyes softened. “Not a problem, darling. I hope your dreams are sweet and more pleasant than today.”

Those words tingled me to my bones, warmed me more than the massive quilt bulking me and allowed sleep to overtake me.

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