#as if we are trying to write a novel about the thing and sometimes that conversation would span over a few days and we keep going

[daosies]

l(over)

when someone else flirts with you in front of them.

heizou, wanderer, neuvillette ♡ gn!reader

warnings: not proofread, neuvillette may be ooc, wanderer is a little crazy 😊

notes: i played heizous hangout quest and he got me 😭😭

frankly, heizou is amused.

"you're beautiful," some random stranger states, "do you happen to be free this weekend?"

you blink in confusion, glancing back and forth between the detective and the strange person. does he not see the way heizou's hand is linked with yours?

"well, someone clearly isn't a detective," heizou states, not bothering to lower the volume of his voice. when the person still doesn't quite understand what heizou means, he lifts your laced hands up to eye-level, emphasizing the fact that he's not letting go anytime soon.

"please don't interrupt," the stranger states, suddenly feigning ignorance to heizou's presence.

"oh!" heizou exclaims, unbothered. "sorry about that!" you can tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that shikanoin heizou is, in fact, not sorry. he's not sorry at all.

heizou brings the back of your hand up to his lips, staring directly at the stranger whilst doing so. still, the random man does not budge.

"what's up with this guy?" heizou mumbles, loud enough for just you to hear. you laugh, and heizou can't seem to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze belonging wholly to your existence.

when the stranger glares at him, heizou merely shrugs, a smirk fixed onto his face. the oblivious person then turns to you, a gentle smile on his face.

"might i have the honor of knowing your name? i am kenzaburou kadenokouji, and seeing you has blessed me with the inspiration to write my greatest upcoming novel: 'i was reincarnated as the raiden shogun's plane of euthymia, where i did nothing for 500 years before finally meeting the love of my life in the middle of the city?!'"

your mouth hangs agape, flabbergasted at this surreal experience.

heizou, however, is not fazed in the slightest. "is this based off of true events?"

"do not interrupt an artist's craft," kadenokouji replies, before extending a hand towards your free one.

so he knows i'm holding their hand, is all heizou thinks. without another thought, the detective pushes the writer's palm away, tugging you towards him.

"you're going to need to find inspiration from someone else! my intuition tells me that this isn't going to work out," heizou declares, his thumb coming to rub the back of your hand, as if he's trying to reassure you.

(you think that it's more for him, though. because although heizou is a self-assured, confident man, he is sometimes shrouded deeply in fear, swayed by the same emotions that make him so human, so lovely.)

(it also doesn't help that you adore novels. a majority of heizou's worries are attributed to how you devour those absurd reincarnation stories.)

"no, no... together," kadenokouji trails off, dismissing heizou with the flick of his hand. "together, we will defy fate! and with you, beautiful stranger, i will publish the greatest novel known to inazuma!"

"he's delusional," heizou mutters, but it sounds as if he's more impressed than incredulous.

"i have a boyfriend," you reply, still recovering from shock. "he's right next to me."

kadenokouji takes it the wrong way. "wow, you move pretty fast! although we just met, and i still don't know your name, i am completely fine with this sudden turn of events!"

"wow," heizou mutters to himself, almost amazed, "this guy's pretty good."

"he's like the opposite of you," you whisper, leaning closer towards heizou, "completely oblivious."

that gives heizou an idea.

"sorry pal, but they only like detectives," he declares.

"that's okay! i've been meaning to write a detective novel, you know, i am always switching things up!" kadenokouji exclaims, not taking the hint (but it's not even a hint, it's a full blown answer).

"oh, really? have you ever heard of shikanoin heizou?"

you and heizou exchange not-so-discreet glances (it's not like kadenokouji notices, anyway). heizou winks at you, as if urging you to stay quiet so he can get the spotlight in a novel that he's always been dreaming of.

"yes, yes! i love doushin shikanoin's work—in fact, i've been meaning to ask him for some information regarding his famous intuition! i plan on basing the main character of that novel off of him, really!"

"that sounds great! you know, doushin shikanoin believes that he needs the publicity, so your novel would be the perfect match!"

"is that really so? that's incredible! i must reach out to him immediately!" kadenokouji says, his attention belonging wholly to this newfound idea.

"i can relay the message to him," heizou replies, "what would you like to ask?"

"yes, thank you! please ask him if he's willing to meet me outside the tenryou commission for an hour or two for me to ask questions! and if he's willing to tell me about his intuition and how it works! my novel's main character will also have something akin to his intuition, but not exactly because i am always original and meaningful with my work—"

"alright, i will!" heizou declares proudly, "he'll hear of it by today!"

"thank you, kind sir! if i might be so bold to inquire, what is your name?" kadenokouji asks, suddenly becoming heizou's biggest fan whilst forgetting about your presence. how the tables have turned.

"shikanoin heizou," he states, the smile on his face never wavering. "my intuition tells me you're going to fall to the floor in utter shock!"

his intuition, as always, is correct. kadenokouji collapses to the floor as if he had just witnessed the most terrible thing, all the color draining from his face while his jaw hangs wide open.

"d-doushin shikanoin?!"

"that's me! also, could you include me in the novel's credits? you know, being a detective isn't always just about skill. in this day and age, we need publicity! we need a name for ourselves!"

kadenokouji faints.

"did you come from another world?" someone asks. "'cause you look otherworldly."

"that was ridiculous," wanderer mutters, "and redundant."

"is he bothering you, your highness?" the person queries, taking a step towards you. their hand reaches out for yours, as if they're trying to take you away, but wanderer is quick to intervene.

he blocks you with his figure, the vision on his chest beginning to glow vividly as a gust of wind rushes through the akademiya's library, sending papers and books flying. scholars panic as their research projects flutter all across the marble floor, and usually, that'd be enough to deter a sane man.

unfortunately for you, your admirer (the other one) is no sane man. you suppose that you attract a certain group of people.

"so you think you're a big shot 'cause you have a vision, huh?" the stranger asks, unimpressed.

"hah! you don't even know who you're talking to," wanderer replies, clenching his fists. he takes a step toward your admirer, the air around him becoming tense and unwelcoming as it begins to manifest into something grim, something violent.

you're not in the mood for a suspension right now.

"wanderer!" you exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. "let's go somewhere else. this guy's just weird."

"you go first. i have things to deal with," wanderer replies, irritated. but the way he looks at you doesn't quite match the tone in his voice, because when the wanderer's cornflower pupils fixate on you, they melt. you mold him into something quiet, something lovely, when you do so much as exist.

briefly, the wind brushes past your face, kissing you with its tender touch.

(all you have to do is exist, and that'll be more than enough for him.)

"he's not worth your time," you say, not releasing your hold on the puppet's wrist. even though wanderer could easily escape your grip, he chooses not to—instead, he basks in your touch, inching closer towards you, letting you hold the strings of his artificial limbs to move him as you please.

wanderer relinquishes himself to you. wholly. and he trusts you with his fate, with his severed strings.

"whatever."

his severed string manifests anew, wrapping around his pinky and yours, turning red—not red from blood, but rather, from love—and knotting.

you are bound to him.

and then he gives in.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

"surrendering already, huh?" the stranger asks, clearly not knowing his place. "i knew you were nothing but bark."

oh, you think, sighing, this guy's an idiot!

"does the akademiya accept anyone who applies?" wanderer asks, contemplating murder. still, he doesn't release himself from your hold.

"that's what i was thinking when i saw you. leave us alone!"

a category 5 hurricane begins to brew in the akademiya library at the word "us." scholars begin to evacuate the premises whilst the insane man stands amidst it all, still trying his best to court you despite getting blown away.

i tried my best, you tell yourself, glancing away.

you let go of wanderer's hand, and then you close your eyes.

"let me know when you're done," you mutter, voice drowned by the whistle of the winds and the screams of scholars whose projects are getting engulfed by the storm.

wanderer, of course, hears you. he can always hear you, picking out your voice from the cacophony, taking the sound and placing it deep within his empty chest, letting it resonate and replay there. instead of a heartbeat, wanderer has your voice echoing throughout his torso, fusing into his artificial ribs.

he is bound to you.

a breeze wisps past your nose. even with the whirling winds and the threat of suspension lingering around your figure, no harm ever comes your way.

you are in the eye of the hurricane.

the eye of the beholder. it melts.

neuvillette is flabbergasted.

back in fontaine, he had the luxury of comfort. everyone knew that the two of you were together, so he never had to deal with someone trying to court you, much less in front of him.

this is how he experiences culture shock. not by the customs of other nations, but rather, by the sheer audacity that some people have. especially when your hand is laced tightly with his.

"i think... i think..." the stranger trails off, his voice filled with an adoration that makes neuvillette's stomach churn. "... i'm getting lost in your eyes, beautiful."

the stranger reaches his hand out to give you a rose, a dashing grin on his face. you smile awkwardly.

"sorry, i'm taken."

"taken... by my good looks?" the stranger asks, putting a hand under his face to emphasize his features. neuvillette squeezes your hand.

"no, they are taken by me. we are partners," neuvillette explains, his tone remaining polite.

"partners in work?"

"yes, but—" neuvillette starts, but is quickly interrupted. you spare him an endearing glance, charmed by his honesty.

the tips of his pointed ears begin to blossom red. again, he squeezes your hand.

"no, we are married," you state blandly, and the stranger's gaze flickers over to your hands, searching for a ring. neuvillette doesn't like the look on the stranger's face; it's evident in the way the iudex narrows his eyes, the way he steps forward a little even though he'd usually try to avoid confrontation.

"i could get you a ring," the stranger says, clearly not getting the hint, "and you wouldn't have to lie about being married."

"there is nothing we owe to you that requires us to prove our marriage. we are married, and that is all you need to know," neuvillette declares firmly, his tone becoming harsh.

"but words alone don't mean anything," the stranger replies with a shrug.

neuvillette furrows his brows, clearly stumped by the stranger's statement. he disagrees—words don't mean everything, but they are definitely worth something.

"just back off," you suddenly chime in, tugging neuvillette closer to you. he lets you string him along to your whims, allowing his figure to inch towards yours, finding its place by your side.

"i'm not interested in you. i already have a lover."

the stranger rolls his eyes.

"ugh. i didn't even like you anyway."

neuvillette frowns. "now that is completely incorrect. just moments prior, you were—"

"just shut up!" the stranger yells, not even bothering to listen to neuvillette's explanation.

clouds begin to form.

"let's go, neuvillette," you say, rubbing the back of the iudex's hand with your thumb. "don't worry too much about that guy."

he looks at you, and the sun emerges.

"you're right. thank you, [name]."

a ring dangles from the silver chain on your neck; it's a vibrant shade of blue.

it glows.

"and you wanted to try this land's water, right?"

he lets you string him along, a gentle smile on his face.

"yes," he vows, "i do."

his hand slots perfectly into yours, and the world is engulfed by a radiant glow.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin #heizou x reader #heizou x you #shikanoin heizou #genshin heizou #neuvillette x you #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer genshin

[tac-the-unseen]

What the Lost boys think about vampire related media

Fluff, x reader but just barely

•While making conversation with your four Vampire lovers you were suddenly plagued with a question.

“How do you guys feel about vampire related media?”

-That question was an immediate head turner. The cave goes dead quite before Dwayne speaks up, “Well…vampires are in hiding so…”

-This sparks a conversation about how media representation of vampires may not be accurate, but that's a good thing. “If a book or movie comes out and it is shockingly accurate to what being a vampire is really like, the creator isn't going to last long.” David explained

-That's because there's a set of rules vampires have to follow and one of those rules is to never publicly reveal your double life identity

-”If something like that comes out, that means a vampire has broken that rule OR somebody knows vampires very closely and is creating media they know shouldn't exist.”

-Turns out if a vampire breaks that rule it's basically open season to kill and destroy their creations.

•You turn the conversation and begin to ask how they, specifically, feel about certain vampire representation

•Bram Stoker's Dracula

-Dwayne is the first to buy in his opinion.

-Dwayne feels that while it is a cult classic and well written, The characters are exceedingly dumb.

-”Johnathan spends a ridiculous amount of time talking about other characters ‘Breasts’ and trying to figure out why his host climbs walls ‘like a lizard's.”

-David is the next one to speak up

-David thinks it's not really worth the read

-”Unless you're trying to brag to people there's no point in reading it.”

-”Also why was Mina talking to that old sailor so much?”

-Paul laughs as he remembers “how fucking crazy he wrote Dracula to be”

-”I'm pretty sure the real Dracula thinks it's a heinous crime against him”

-Paul hasn't read it but have heard enough about it to know even the more obscure references

-Marko comments on the graceful writing style and the beautiful descriptions

-”I've only read it because Dwayne thought I would like it"

-Marko also loves how oblivious Jonathan and most of the other characters are

-All of them think the movie adaptation is hilarious and love the shitty special effects

•Interview with a vampire

-Paul chimes in immediately

-”God it's so homo erotic it hurts…in a good way.”

-Paul thinks its a nice horror novel mixed with a weird cozy atmosphere

-Dwayne thinks it's another well written classic and He actually begins to rave about all the themes involved within Anne Rice’s work

-”It's a beautiful Gothic thriller with a deep, sadly comedic energy.”

-He even offers to read it too you sometime

-Marko chimes in quickly about “Claudia’s rebellious behavior and persona”

-”imagine watching your family choose somebody else over you. It's so deeply upsetting but to an understandable level.”

-”I would have hated to turn so young. I look like a teenager and other people can respect that to a certain point. But being five years old with the mind of an adult, No one would respect you.”

-Marko relates to Claudia on an internal level and loves unraveling her character. When you ask why he quickly responds "Some people call me a cherub... You think I enjoy that?"

-David says he doesn't have much to say other than it was a decent read (That's his version of a compliments)

•Twilight

-All of them agree that it's laughably horrendous

-Almost immediately at the same time they say “This is the skin of a killer Bella”

-This leads to banshee like laughter

David speaks up immediately

-”Why do you humans want us to sparkle so bad?”

-”I personally hate the idea of being a walking disco ball, but to each their own.”

-Marko chimes in quickly

-”Would you like it if we sparkled?” He asked while leans on you affectionately

-Marko thinks the only reason to read it is to have a nice laugh

-”Why did Edward have such a violent reaction of Bella standing by a fan? That makes no sense…like I have mates and I enjoy the smell of you guys but…I'm not nearly clawing off my face at your smell”

-”Yeah yeah, I get he's trying not to overreact but running out of class to get away is crazy.”

-Paul even adds that even thought it's very dumb even he can appreciate the message it's trying to said.

-”something something, coming over adversary, something something, love wins, something something..”

-”Also that Jacob imprinting on Bella's infant daughter is super fucking creepy.”

-when you asked Dwayne about his feels he scoffed and said It's insulting at best and borderline sexual harassment at worst.

-He refused to go into depth

•You thank them for humoring you and they tell you that it's no problem

-David kisses the side of your head in an uncharacteristically soft way “We don't ever mind answering your vampire related question.” He tells you

-Marko turns to you “But seriously do you want us to sparkle?”

-”I think I have some roll on body glitter somewhere..” Paul says while getting up to look for it

Thanks for reading <3

#the lost boys x reader #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #reader #the lost boys #vampire #fluff #books #lovers

[frownyalfred]

How do you do your writing? Start writing the story and figure out world building aspects after? Or deep dive into world building than write the story? Personally I write the story then take breaks to write down world building as it comes

Was curious, cause your abo au is very thought out with world building

I think it definitely comes easier with the a/b/o AU since there's a lot of pre-established options within the trope, so I'm usually just mixing and matching the ones I like most, or subverting the ones I don't.

My biggest goal when worldbuilding is to avoid the "this is the world I live in and here are the rules" monologue that sometimes pops up in published novels. I only want stuff to come up that's actually being discussed and thought about by the characters in the scene -- and unless it's being used as a device, they're not usually narrating the rules of the world they live in to themselves at any point. (Again, it depends on the book and if it's being used as a literary device)

So Bruce, in a given scene, wouldn't necessarily be thinking about the fact that omegas use scent blockers to conceal their scents, and wouldn't be thinking about how that works (such as application preference, etc) but he would, theoretically, be thinking about how the new scent blocker he just bought isn't working right, and that he might need to use more than normal. So we get some slightly more subtle worldbuilding within the vein of the scene.

People go back and forth on the "show don't tell" advice in writing, and I know it's contentious. But I'm a proponent of showing worldbuilding whenever possible, instead of outright telling. Whenever I find myself writing a thought/piece of dialogue that seems like it would benefit the reader more than the characters, I take a second to check if I'm telling instead of showing.

Sometimes that means not explaining something until it pops up in the story. An example of this would be in my Mandalorian/Star Wars batfamily AU, where we really don't learn a lot about the batkids' positions or the hierarchy of the Wayne compound until Clark has a chance to talk with various family members and learn.

I think there is definitely an instinct to overexplain off the bat, and it's not always wrong. But if our first scene with Bruce was spent with him thinking over the hierarchy of his own compound, that wouldn't make a lot of sense -- he already knows what it is. He's got other things to focus on in that scene.

If it's helpful, I also put together lists sometimes of worldbuilding ideas that don't necessarily make it into the work itself, but help add context while I'm writing. I did this a lot with Borderline, when I was trying to write the Court/LoA into the fic. A lot of those details didn't make it in for the reader to see, but they affected what I wrote.

That's just my take on it, and like I said, there's a lot of conflicting ideas about this. And exceptions, of course.

#asks #anon #writing #writing things #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #myfic #theresurrectionist #a/b/o mention #a/b/o tw

[chobani-flip]

the disconnect between the storytelling of the show and of the fandom

lately, I've been thinking about storytelling and storytellers in the context of 911.

like, there's two sides to this storytelling business, right?

there's the small group writers and showcreators who have an idea for the characters and plots and have to come up with a way to share those ideas within the constraints of a network television series

and then there's us, a massive international community with a wide-range of life experiences, who watch their show and then go on to tell our own story about it.

and i wonder if we're always watching the story they're telling.

im not even necessarily talking about the buddie goggles right now.

what got me thinking about this was ana flores.

and the one scene the fandom likes to pretend sealed her fate (when in actuality, let's be quite candid, it was the fact that she was a beautiful woman who dared to date eddie instead of allowing him to remain a viable option for canonical/fanonical offscreen cannoodling with buck)

"there's a lot to be said for getting back on the horse, but there's also some value in learning that you don't like horses." eddie: "i'm sorry?" "sometimes, our limitations tell us when to stop. but sometimes, they can show us where to look next." (romantic, feelingsy song starts playing) "today, he falls off the skateboard. but tomorrow, he writes the great american novel."

see, the problem here is that this is CLEARLY meant to be viewed as wise and deep advice. as a moment of connection between ana and eddie... the way the scene is cut, the music that plays in the background, the intense eye-contact between the two characters, the way eddie reacts to her words... we're meant to enjoy the simmering tension and potential between them...

but... it's not great and deep advice, not really. it's been pointed out that it comes off as ableist. and ana is supposed to be a teacher at this excellent inclusive institution; she is meant to have experience with children of different abilities feeling frustrated and wanting to do the same things other children are doing... someone on here pointed out that if they were the teacher, they would seek to understand what need christopher was trying to fullfil by getting on the skateboard and help him achieve it by other means

but what ana comes up with is this awkward horse metaphor that doesn't really make sense for the situation, and a condescending: "awwww, well, im sure he's the next hemingway"

BUT SEE, THAT'S NOT THE STORY THE SHOW IS TELLING US. the show is ostensibly framing this scene as romantic and great and deep. and that is NOT ana's fault. the character of ana didn't travel to our reality, didn't block the scene, didn't cut it and add the soundtrack. that's on the showcreators.

but somehow, it's really difficult for us to see it that way when it comes to ana.

in a way that it's not when it comes to Hen, poor little Mara and the Doberman.

because we know Hen and Karen, and we like them.

so we awkwardly shuffle around, side-eyeing each other, quietly nudging each other and going: "bit of a fail that, huh? kinda a weird thing to do on the part of the show, huh? comparing a little Black girl to a dog...why did they do that???"

or there was an excellent post floating around about whether Buck and Eddie realize they can say no to sex, that their consent matters.

"what if i come home and she wants to haaaaaave..." "well, you'll get through it somehow," says buck with an amused grin on his face.

see, the problem isn't necessarily whether the characters know that their consent matters, but whether the showcreators do. because this is clearly meant to be viewed as a joke.

eddie is a macho guy, who tends to keep his cool in difficult situations, so it's funny when you see him freaking out over the fact that his girlfriend wants to have sex with him and he doesn't want to have sex with her because her former chosen-profession taps into his well of Messy Catholic Feelings.

isn't it? isn't that just fucking hilarious?

and the answer to that is: no. it's not funny to any part of the audience who's ever felt pressured (by a partner, by society, by their own expectations) to want or to have sex.

but does the show realize that?

i'm sorry but i don't think so. this is the show that framed dr.wells sexually assaulting buck during a therapy session as a joke to casually bring up and needle him over later, that felt the need to reassure us that chimney and maddie can and do have wild, passionate monkey sex (you remember, albert teasing chim, then the hotel with the revolving room, etc), that had karen ask hen what the point of a relationship was if the couple weren't having sex...

now, i genuinely don't think the showcreators mean to be hurtful, or harmful. i don't think they realise how all these things come off. because they're a fairly small group of people from Los Angeles, North America, and are working within the constraints of a network television show

(and the point of the Eddie and Buck scene was Buck coming out to Eddie, so maybe they felt Buck saying: "you know, you can tell her you don't want to have sex, right? that's allowed." would fraction the focus of it? idk)

but what happens is that there's this disconnect between the story they're telling us and the story we continue to tell among ourselves.

when it comes to the characters we like, we tend to ignore the unpleasant meanings and messages in relation to the character, or we retcon it in fanfic, or we Fix-it with some heart-to-hearts and apologies.

(for example, i haven't seen many fics that show athena being a Cop as not-a-great-thing. but are we really ok with her saying "i wasn't on their side, but i understood their side." when her son expresses some reasonable dissatisfaction with her reaction to a cop pointing a gun at him and michael? or are we just ignoring it because we love angela bassett?)

when it comes to characters we are predisposed to dislike, this disconnect makes us dislike them even more. which leads to the writing of bashing fics, and in some cases harassing the performers online jfc do not do that people that's never ok

(of course, some characters are hated justifiedly imao, like the buckley parents and chimney's father...)

maybe this is the frustration that makes for such a prolific and active fandom?

I don't know.

but I think it's something to keep in mind when watching the show. because that disconnect is always going to be there and I know that for my own personal mental health, it's easier and nicer to believe that a group of RL people might sometimes be just a bit ignorant at times and write in weird shit unintentionally, than that my favourite characters are massive assholes unpredictably and randomly

#911 abc #911 season 7 #911 on fox #911 on abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ana flores #911 meta

[alchemiclee]

sometimes I say words and sometimes people like/reblog those words (sometimes even adding a tag comment!!!!) and i'm always like "omg do these words make sense to you??? do you like the nonsense that came out of my brain????????" it's always super surprising and makes me do a little happy dance.

part of me wants to talk about that nonsense with them more, but the other part of me is bad at people and too afraid 🥲😅

#words #in which lee misses having long autistic rambling conversations with people about interests where we both send paragaraph upon paragraph #as if we are trying to write a novel about the thing and sometimes that conversation would span over a few days and we keep going #until we have thoroughly disussed the thing with as many ideas as we can come up with #its hard to find that kind of person. they have to have the same interest at exactly the same intensity and have a general same opnion on it #same as in they like it and think its good vs disliking and wanting to debare rather than discuss. i hate debate. and they must be creative #and good at continuing the conversation and going with thr flow in a way that we both fit each others conversation style and yeah #i had a few people like that in the past ans miss that. but theyre so hard to come by and you meet them by chance #its not something you can force. its like an accident. so “looking for someone” doesnt work. have to feel their vibe and energy and match #anyway reading people's star rail analysis and theories and thoughts and whatnot is fun #since im too bad at people to talk to ans get along with just anyone. reading posts takes out the pressure to socialize correctly #but its still lonely not sharing my thoughts. thats why when random person likes or reblogs my posts i feel seen/heard #its nice. especially if they add tags. it feels almost like we reciprocated and interacted or something #i was seen and heard and they also are seen and heard by me and im honoured they also said words!!!!!! even if just tags on a reblog #anyway someone reblogged a post i made and added their thoughts in the tags and ive been thinking about it all day 🫣🥲😭🥺

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

[tkingfisher]

So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?

How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?

Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3

*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.

But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.

Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.

Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.

Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)

There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.

In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)

Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.

This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?

Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)

For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.

You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.

(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)

Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.

At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.

(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)

So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.

Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.

(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)

#long #rambling #writing

[thebibliosphere]

"But you're so successful without it."

Content warning: This post contains mentions of suicidal ideation.

I got a message earlier tonight that I'm not going to post, but I did ask the person involved if I could talk about what we subsequently ended up talking about in DMs because I feel it's important.

Basically, it was along the lines of "My kid got diagnosed with ADHD and really wants to try meds. I know from reading your blog that correct treatment for ADHD can be really beneficial, but I just don't think she's severe enough to need them."

The message then went on to ask me, as someone who is unmedicated with ADHD, for some tricks and tips on how to be successful without medication because clearly, look how well I'm doing without them. I mean, look at my blog, look at my book(s)! Surely if I can do all that without ADHD meds, other people can too. Surely there's a trick. A skill. Something you can learn if you just try hard enough...

This is not the first time I have received a message like this. In fact, I probably get about 2-5 messages like this a week.

Usually from other people who also have ADHD/suspect ADHD but don't want medication because they don't think they need it/don't want to need it, and yet can't figure out why they're struggling so much, and ask me how do I do the thing(s) and cope so well and get so much done, etc., etc.

So I'm going to tell you what I told this person tonight in case it helps someone. Yes, I have ADHD. No, I am not medicated due to severe health complications, and yes, I get a lot done. From the outside, I am sure it looks incredibly productive and successful. But I'm going to let you in on what that success feels like.

It feels like dying.

It feels like my brain is on fire; every nerve in my body scraped raw; every part of me wired and exposed to the noise of the world. There is no quiet; there is no calm. And even when my brain does fall silent, it's another kind of death. The inside of my head is sludge, flowing uphill like treacle, weighing me down, pulling me under in the riptide of my inability to focus. I can see what needs to be done, I can see it so clearly, yet sometimes it's like I don't control my own body. Not enough dopamine. Not enough brain chemicals for the message I'm screaming in my head to make my limbs do the simplest of tasks. Like, feed myself. Take a shower. Answer that email. Text my friends back. Go to bed when I'm tired. Write a best-selling novel...

A novel that almost killed me and not because of my other ailments, but because of my unmedicated ADHD.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I was already operating at critical mass when I went into final rewrites/edits. Every coping mechanism I had fell apart. Like training wheels falling off a tricycle, leaving me to wobble unsteadily until the main wheels fell off, swiftly followed by the handlebars until all that was left was me peddling frantically trying to keep my balance and not getting anywhere. I didn't realize it then, but I was heading towards a complete mental collapse. And even when I dragged myself across the finish line with the above and beyond help provided by my friends and editors, I was so burned out I couldn't enjoy my success. Worse, my success made me suicidal.

It took me until very recently, almost two years later, to be able to read Phangs without feeling suicidal. My brain associated it with the trauma of experiencing complete ADHD burnout but having to complete a monumental task anyway.

I had to go into intensive therapy to recover. I am still in intensive therapy for it.

It took me even longer after that to be able to sit down and write without harming myself. I still struggle with it, and I tell you this in all honest sincerity in the hope it makes you realize what it costs me to be "successful" and unmedicated.

And this wasn't the first time I've had to deal with this, either.

I struggled all through high school, all through college, all through every career job I ever had, knowing there was something wrong, but not quite being able to put my finger on it because hey, I still got stuff done, so it couldn't be that bad, right? Surely everyone went through life feeling this way? Right?

...right?

It wasn't until I got my ADHD diagnosis as an adult that I realized what was happening. Why I struggled so much. Why life was so hard. In many ways, it was like the sun coming up. An internal dawning of realization and acceptance, but also rage.

So much rage.

Rage at how much I'd had to struggle because no one noticed because I was quiet and undisruptive. Rage at a system that forced me to learn in ways that were not intuitive to my brain. To always being told, "doesn't apply herself" while it felt like I was clawing my brain apart trying to do what people wanted from me. To a work-life balance, that rewards all the things that make ADHD actively worse. Rage. So much rage it hurts. And to top it all off, I can't be medicated for it. I finally know what's different, I finally know why my world feels raw and turned inside out, and I can't take any of the medications that might help me.

Do you know how angry I wake up every day that there is a possible solution just within my grasp, but my health conditions prevent me from trying them? Do you know how much it hurts? How much I grieve for the person I could be if I was able to have help beyond therapy and coaching? How much happier I could be...

Not productive. Not successful. Happy.

So ask yourself, what do you want more? A child who has to go through all of this and resents you for prolonging their suffering? Who winds up hating themselves by internalizing the false concept that if they just try hard enough, they can do whatever they set their mind to.

Or do you want to help them?

Or if this is you, why are you afraid to help yourself?

Please, don't use me as an example to harm yourself or others. Yes, I am successful without medication. But the toll is high. Too high.

Rid yourself of the idea that you need to suffer more to be allowed help. You don't. They don't. No one does.

#adhd #adult adhd #actually adhd #chronic health tag #suicide mention #suicidal ideation #long post #mental health #I am not for you to bludgeon other people with #kindly desist

[breathlesswinds]

(Devlog) What We Learned Making A Trans Dating Game

Hello, Amelia here, the writer for Breathless Winds. It's been 250,000+ words, countless revisions, and three years since this game entered development, and I wanted to talk about what I've learned leading up to release.

The concept for Breathless Winds was actually sort of a joke between friends. I was talking with Doris about how there should be a dating game where you play as a trans woman and your dating options revolve around certain ‘tropes’ we’d both seen in trans fiction-- the totally accepting cishet guy who falls in love with the trans heroine before she even knows she’s a woman, the cool trans woman who the heroine doesn’t know if she wants to date or wants to be, and so on.

Doris wound up suggesting we make this game ourselves. We both like visual novels and want to tell LGBT stories. Still half-jokingly and half-seriously, we started fleshing out what the romance options would be and coming up with a setting-- and soon, we were fully committed to making this game real.

I was a fan of visual novels but had only ever written prose. I knew which visual novels I liked and which scenes stood out, but I didn’t know why they did or how to make my own. 

I read some great advice from visual novel developers, but a good amount of my knowledge came from just working on Breathless Winds. As our first project, this game has grown a lot with us and we’ve learned a lot while making it.

Learning How to Write Visual Novels

A bad habit I had to break out of was only using the ‘novel’ part of the game and not the ‘visual’ part. I would sometimes write “He smiled” or lines like that, and Doris informed me that we can convey this much more simply with a sprite change.

It sounds obvious in retrospect, but lines like that are often pretty invisible when you’re reading a non-visual novel. These lines change the sprite of the character inside your head (if that makes sense, haha). I realized that I’m so used to them being ‘invisible’ that I didn’t notice their absence in visual novels I liked, so I would accidentally include them while writing. 

I was also writing these routes in a word processor, so I didn’t have the visual portion to reference, myself. I wound up making a lot of ‘tone’ notes like, “Lantana should be smug here” so that the meaning would carry when revising and implementing these into Ren’py. 

So, while visual novels share a lot with prose, they’re an entirely different medium. On the subject of representing things visually, I’ve struggled trying to figure out how much can be visually represented and how much should be written. 

Every asset in the game has to be drawn by Doris, so if I want the characters to go to a new location for a scene, I have to keep in mind that’s another background that Doris has to draw. If I want a new character to show up, that’s another sprite she has to draw. I don’t want to overload her, but if I’m trying to avoid this entirely, characters sometimes wind up standing in one room talking for ages without anything significant changing on-screen.

I’ve learned that it’s recommended for something to almost always be changing on-screen, though, so sometimes I just have to ask Doris to make a new asset for a certain scene. I still try to stick to locations/characters that already exist more often than not.

Every single thing in a visual novel is deliberate. Another thing I’ve had to learn that I never even considered before is how to write each line so it fits in the text box. It sounds obvious, but when I’m playing a visual novel, I don’t usually think about how each line has to be carefully constructed so it doesn’t need to be split up into two or more text boxes. In my mind, if a visual novel is well-created, there’s not much that breaks a reader’s immersion.

Planning & Outlining

The previous section might sound really weird to some people, so let me elaborate.  I’m a lifelong ‘write by the seat of your pants’-er, so the biggest trial-and-error of creating Breathless Winds for me was planning out the game.

Initially, I created outlines for each of the four routes, and we agreed ahead of time on which CGs each route would have. That way, Doris could draw the necessary backgrounds and CGs while I was in the long process of drafting this game.  My original outlines weren’t great. I know a lot of people have different experiences with writing, but for me personally, a story is always shaping itself in my mind. When I started making the outlines for Breathless Winds, I knew the concepts we wanted to convey, but I didn’t know what each route (and the game as a whole) was really about yet. This might sound weird and unprofessional, but sometimes, I don’t know what a story is about until I finish the first draft.

So while I was writing, I would look at my outlines and I would think, “this doesn’t actually make sense, he wouldn’t say that” or “this plot point would work better if moved to this other section” or “there’s a plot hole here I didn’t notice”. The story wound up changing a lot in this way as I learned what it’s really ‘about’. 

And even after I finished the first draft, I’d get feedback from Doris and/or my editor and they would suggest fixes to problems that even I hadn’t noticed, and then I would revise the route some more, and later on I’d come back and need to redo part of the route to comply with something I wrote in a later route-- I haven’t really felt ‘finished’ with Breathless Winds at any point, and I think I’ll still feel this way after the game is released.

This means that sometimes, a background was created but would go unused because there was no space for the scene that would use it, or we’d need a new CG last-minute, or so on. 

When I’m figuring things out as I go while writing a non-VN, the only person that I can adversely affect is my own self… so I’m eternally grateful for all of Doris’s patience with me on this matter. I think Breathless Winds has come out a much better game for all the re-plotting and revision. 

I redid the outlines several times as I went. I think I’ve understood how to create outlines that personally work for me-- ‘living’ outlines that hit all the main points, but leave wiggle room for moments when a character does something unexpected, work the best for me.

Scope Creep

So, originally, each route was meant to be 40,000 words. “With four routes, that’s only 160,000 words!” I thought. “And some of my favorite visual novels are about that long, so I can write that much, too!” ← clueless

This is the most infamous mistake that new creators make, and I walked right into it. I should have known better since I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with past non-VN writing projects before, but I was starry-eyed and didn’t realize how much work it is to make a VN. Some of those favorite visual novels I referenced were made by much larger teams, writers whose full-time job was writing (I wrote all of these routes on the side while working at a day job). 

If I could have done it again, I would have asked Doris to start out with a really short VN. But, I don’t regret making Breathless Winds at all. It’s brought Doris and I a lot closer, for one. Every time I thought I wanted to give up on this, Doris would motivate me to continue. Without the two of us both and our strong friendship, Breathless Winds wouldn’t exist, and I think that’s beautiful. 

No matter what, we’re going to see it through to the end. (I hope people like it, though…)

Anyway, here I am talking about how much 40,000 words is. Each route now is about 60k to 70k words. The problem with having evolving outlines is that they can often evolve into double their original size.

We came up with the idea of the poachers really early in development, and then not addressing the poachers felt like a failing, but by that point it was too late to remove the poachers entirely… and so the game wound up a lot longer dealing with the poachers. 

I think that if we had an editor sooner on in the game’s development, then we might have had someone to tell us, “do you really need all of this in the game? Does this plot point really need to be there? Will you be able to write all of this in a reasonable amount of time?”, haha. But Doris and I were really excited about the possibilities of this game when we started creating it, and without anyone to reel us back in, we wound up coming up with more and more things we wanted to put in the game.

Did you know there was going to be an island full of talking rats who say things like “the big cheese” and stuff all the time in Breathless Winds? Yeah. 

The Core Design Philosophy of Breathless Winds

So, for anyone who’s read this far but doesn’t know yet-- the premise of Breathless Winds is that you play as a trans woman who doesn’t know she’s trans yet, and she finds love with one of four love interests as she discovers her gender identity. 

In real life, it can be a lot messier for a person to date when discovering their gender identity. To put it briefly and mildly, a trans person’s life and sense of personal identity can rapidly change during a gender crisis and the early stages of transition. 

However, we wanted to make this game a ‘wish-fulfillment’ type story-- a trans fantasy about acceptance, community, and love. During a gender crisis, it can be easy to feel as if one has lost touch with themselves and become isolated from others. A sincere wish shared by many trans people is to be accepted, loved, and even celebrated as their true gender, not just tolerated. 

Since many trans people don’t get love and acceptance in real life, especially with the ongoing transphobic moral panic, we wanted to create a game that would bring this feeling of trans joy and celebration to trans audiences. 

We also hope that cis players will still enjoy the story and characters, and maybe come away from the game with a new understanding about being transgender and other aspects of LGBT identity (although we never intended this game to be ‘educational’).

Making Characters that Celebrate Trans Identity

Although we went through several revisions, the core identities of each character stayed the same since the game was first ‘jokingly’ pitched. In another post, I discussed how each character is themed around a change in seasons. (I also wound up theming them around the four humors when I was initially concepting them-- I really wanted to avoid too much ‘overlap’ in the LI’s personalities, haha). 

Ultimately, characters are created to serve a role. The LIs in Breathless Winds were designed to be love interests, of course-- characters who would appeal to the hypothetical trans femme audience. As mentioned earlier, we modeled them after other trans fiction tropes because these types of characters have a certain tried-and-true appeal, but this left plenty of flexibility to put our own spin on it. 

A trans woman being loved as a woman by a cishet guy can feel like a high form of ‘passing’, ‘fitting in’ to the female gender role, and being validated by his orientation. He only likes women, and he likes you, so you’re undoubtedly a woman. As a cishet guy, he represents a sort of acceptance into a societal norm that trans women can desire to live to. (Lantana, as a cis lesbian, represents the sapphic counterpoint to this-- although there is of course a big gap between the ‘normalcy’ of a cishet man and a cis lesbian woman, and I don’t mean to say those two are equivalent.) 

But not all trans women want to live to that (cis) societal norm. Rue and Valerian, as a trans woman and a trans man respectively, are the t4t options. 

Rue’s route represents that trans/sapphic ‘envy’ (“do I want her or do I want to be her?”) as well as finding power in community aside from what society considers ‘normal’. We’ve always been pretty clear about what we wanted to do with Rue’s route.

We went back and forth a lot more on Valerian’s route. Initially, we were unsure if he should be trans. He and Rue are the two less-friendly love interests (at least initially), so I was afraid it would come across that t4t is a more hostile option, which is not true at all. But it also felt like a mistake to not have a trans man in the game-- but making Gallardia trans would have required a big overhaul of what we had in mind for him and his route. (Although, childhood friends t4t is a really good idea...)

Beyond that, Valerian takes a villainous role in any route that isn't his own. We were worried that it would be wrong to have a trans antagonist who represents unjust power. However, Breathless Winds is a queer game with other positive trans characters, and we've always approached Valerian as a hot anti-villain man that you can't help but like.

In the end, Valerian’s route is about breaking generational cycles and what it is that makes you a man, and I also managed to sneak in a scene where they dance at a ball in the royal palace, so in the end I think it all worked out great.

Wish Fulfillment and Catharsis

Doris and I both agreed that we wouldn’t depict on-screen transphobia in Breathless Winds. Poppy worries about not being accepted, but fear of acceptance can come with any change in identity. Rue was rejected by her family for being trans, but this doesn’t take place ‘on screen’ in the game. There exist certain metaphorical parallels for transness and transphobia, but every route has a happy ending. 

Following up on this-- it can be difficult to write about discovery of gender identity without writing about transphobia, considering how many trans people suffer from internalized transphobia during their period of repression.

Sometimes, repressed/closeted transgender people ‘hyper-perform’ their assigned gender as a form of denial. A trans woman might grow out a beard and join a gym, while a trans man might become very interested in makeup and feminine clothing. 

In Breathless Winds, Poppy often struggles with ‘strength’ and what it means to be a man. In several routes, she tries to prove her strength under the assumption that being stronger would make her happy. Afraid the world would reject her if she became who she really is, she preemptively rejects herself.

Not every trans person suffers from prolonged denial, internalized transphobia, or even gender dysphoria. I don’t think it’s impossible to tell a purely-positive story about trans joy. 

While Poppy never gets rejected for being trans, faces transphobia, gets called a slur, etc, she faces both internal and external (metaphorical) obstacles to realizing and accepting her identity. 

Gallardia represents a societal norm that Poppy can’t live up to herself as a man.

Lantana suffers from certain aspects of her identity as a woman, which makes Poppy feel guilt for wanting to be a girl.

Rue is isolated from town at the start of her route, a ‘punishment’ for breaking this societal norm.

Valerian has to hyper-conform to his masculine gender role at first in toxic ways before finding acceptance from within and from his loved ones.

These struggles are real to a lot of people, but instead of pretending they don’t exist, I hoped to tell a story about catharsis. Poppy is able to live up to her truth as a woman and finds love with Gallardia, Poppy and Lantana redefine what being a woman should and does mean to them, Rue and Poppy find community in others who don’t fit the norm, Poppy and Valerian stop seeking gender validation from a society that was never made to serve them. 

Although these powerful forces of oppression exist, loving yourself as a trans person- and loving those around you, protecting the natural world, and standing up for what you believe in- can save the day. That’s the kind of story we wanted to tell.

Wrap-up

There’s a lot more I could write, but this has already gotten really long (sorry!) so I’ll wrap it up here. 

Learning how to write a visual novel in terms of technical skill (how to depict events on-screen, how long each line should be) as well as in terms of writing skill (how to outline the game, how to plan visual assets) has been a massive undertaking for me. 

Writing Breathless Winds has been a big challenge but also deeply rewarding, and all of your support has made the experience even more wonderful. Thank you for reading and thank you for supporting the game!

#visual novel #otome #dating sim #amare #trans #lgbt #breathless winds

[slayingfiction]

Weak Words To Cut

Here are some weak words than you can often remove to strengthen your writing. I have made these changes as I edit my own novel, so I included examples from my writing to show you the difference.

When editing and cutting words, we are not talking about dialogue because everyone has a unique way of speaking, and it’s important to keep true to their voice.

Note: these are all general guidelines, and you don’t have to use all or any of them. Creative writing gives you a creative licence to choose how you write. Do what works best for you. Always.

Suddenly: technically speaking, everything happens suddenly, so use the word sparingly or it will lose its effect.

I don’t remember ever seeing a man in such little clothes before, and I suddenly despised the one piece left. I don’t remember ever seeing a man in such little clothes before, and I found myself despising the remaining piece.

Keep: When it disrupts your character’s life, and you want your reader to really take notice.

Cut: if removed and there is no change, then it’s not necessary

Then/Next: this is typically a filler word. All events happen in a sequential state, so it’s not always needed.

Then She was gone, her steps echoing through the halls.

Keep: You want to keep the word typically when something is changing in action, description, etc.

Cut: If removing the word does not change the meaning, then cut it. Typically if this word starts the sentence, it’s unnecessary.

Just: this is a filler word, and can almost always be removed.

I was just a game to him, nothing more.

Keep: if removing it makes your sentence confusing or changes the meaning, then keep it. Usually using the word words well as a limiter word. (Eg. it’s just me and my dogs tonight)

Cut: when it’s unnecessary and changes nothing.

Really/Very: these are weak qualifying/descriptive words, and you can absolutely find a better synonym

Your mother is really nice lovely.

Keep: typically these words are fine to keep when not used to enhance an adjective. (Eg. very next day, really think, very back of…)

Cut: if it’s being used to enhance a weak adjective, cut it and find a better word.

Is/Was: this is usually a passive voice, which isn’t usually the best for fiction novels, active voice is always preferred. Naturally this is a verb that you can’t cut from all places, so here are some tips.

Everyone was too busy focusing on their shopping to notice a human sliding between sales booths. Buyers and sellers occupied themselves with their shopping, too focused to notice a human sliding between sales booths.

Keep: when delivering information quickly its always best to just state the facts, so don’t worry about trying to find flowery words to describe everything.

Cut: If you can show what the person or object is doing instead of simply saying it, then change the sentence.

Started: every action has a start, so don’t write it unless you can tell me why it’s important now to know that’s it’s started.

The boy started to rant in his native tongue. The boy ranted in his native tongue.

Keep: if your scene is being interrupted or is still unfinished, then go ahead. This one is a little harder to see sometimes, so just see how you feel with it in vs removed.

Cut: it’s it’s unnecessary information, and nothing changes to the story or sentence when removed, axe it.

Seemed: again, this is more of a show don’t tell kind of thing

Time seemed to slow slowed as I held Vera tight against me.

Keep: if a character knows something intuitively

Cut: if you can show why the character is perceiving what’s happening

Definitely: this is typically just confirming facts that are already known to be true. Repetition is unnecessary without a purpose.

He definitely saw me, but I wasn’t mad about it. (This instance can for sure be removed, it’s unnecessary. However, I want this emphasis here, so I chose to keep it)

Keep: if it’s your character who is confirming facts as 100% accurate and ridding previous doubt

Cut: remove and nothing changes

Somewhat/Slightly: usually this is used when only trying to use a partial effect of a word, so the easiest fix is to change the word that it’s describing.

I looked away, slightly embarrassed.

Keep: if the words is truly the best way to describe what was happening in the sentence.

Cut: when you can use a better word to describe your action/emotion/whatever to be more accurate or it’s unnecessary.

Possibly/Likely/Probably/May/Might: much like some of the other weak words, these are just filler. Something either is or isn’t, and it’s best to describe here you can.

Probably Not with the way he was speaking to her.

Keep: if your character isn’t sure of something

Cut: if you can describe what’s happening, or it can be removed without changing the meaning

Somehow: this is usually an indicator of missing information

I thought I was an average girl in every way, and now I was somehow the first human to ever survive. (I don’t use somehow often. I am keeping it in this instance because none of the characters know how it happened yet.)

Keep: if your character is missing the information and doesn’t know how something became true or transpired

Cut: if you can explain how something came to be.

Adverbs: this is a great category of words to use in writing, but if used too often, it can distract from the story. A good rule is finding an even balance between adverbs and active verbs.

I squeezed her cold hand tightly in mine and made a promise to save her. Clenching her cold hand between mine, I promised to save her.

Keep: if it improves your writing by making it more clear and efficient.

Cut: if it makes more sense to use active verbs to describe what’s going on.

Totally/Completely/Absolutely: all filler words

He grinned at me, his plate almost completely full while mine was near empty. He grinned at me, his plate still full while mine sat devoid of even a crumb.

Keep: if it’s important to the story to know with 100% certainty, and this word gives the most accurate description

Cut: whenever it’s not needed

Thing/It: missing information/ lack of description

I was just accepting all the things they said as truth. I was just accepting all their fantastic explanations as truth.

Keep: if your character doesn’t know what it is

Cut: whenever you can find an actually description or name the object

Have any more words you think should be added to the list? If something does not make sense or you have questions, let me know down below.

If you’ve found this helpful: comment, like, reblog & follow for more :)

Happy Writing!

#creative writing #fiction #wip #writing community #writing #writer #writers of tumblr #writing process #book edit #editing #writing advice #writing resources #writing reference #long post #writblr #writing tips

[2soulscollide]

tips to level up your writing skills

1. read, read, read

okay, I know, everyone keeps saying it... but it's true, and I truly believe the more you read, the better you write, because you come across different writing styles, different voices, new characters, and worlds. This applies to every writer, from amateur to professional.

2. practice makes perfect

another cliché, right.

but hear me out: I feel so much more confident about my writing skills when I write daily, rather than when I write a bit occasionally. you get lots of work done, see your book coming to life, and get better at it.

3. create an outline before you start writing

guysss, I know many people like to go with the flow, but I would recommend planning your novel before writing it, especially if it is one of your first projects.

when I started, I refused to plot my novel because I thought it was a waste of time, and I couldn't plan it all ahead. turns out that I could never finish my novels, because I started to get lost in the plot. as most of you may know, I LOVEEE to plot now!

4. use active voice instead of passive voice

passive voice is alright sometimes. I like to use it, too. but to create an immersive experience for the reader, you should go for the active voice since it creates more impact.

see something like this:

"the letter was written by Marcus who had tears in his eyes." VS "Marcus wrote the letter with tears in his eyes."

such a basic example (don't judge me!!)... but can you notice the difference? it seems so much more expressive.

5. avoid using overly complex language

repeat it after me: short. sentences. are. valid.

don't overcomplicate it! I know it's tempting to write huge sentences sometimes and make your book seem more complex and professional, but sometimes it just doesn't come out as expected, and we end up exhausting our readers.

6. don't just for yourself

this can be a polemic topic. it's quite common to see people saying you should write for yourself, but let's be honest here: if you're trying to get your book published, you should have your target public in mind while developing your book. knowing your audience to know what works and what doesn't work is extremely important. but hey, you must also enjoy what you're writing!

7. use dialogue!!!

I find dialogue so important, and I love it so much! ensure you develop a distinctive voice for your characters to make them seem real to the reader. also, if possible, read the dialogue out loud and imagine if it would work out in real life.

8. don't be afraid to use metaphors

metaphors will turn a "basic" work into something more sophisticated when applied in the right places. you might want to avoid overusing it because it can ruin the experience, but it's something up to you, and what feels better to you.

9. research your topic before writing

okay, this is pretty self-explanatory. if you're writing about a topic or a location you don't know much about, avoid making assumptions or clichés. instead, do some research, take notes, or even ask chatgpt questions to help you.

10. don't be afraid to experiment and try new things

I was a fanfiction writer for a long time and was so scared to try original fiction because it seemed so much different from what I was accustomed to doing. however, once I decided to try something new, I discovered I liked to do it more than fanfiction. you'll never know until you try it!

11. never give up on your writing, keep practicing and learning to improve your skills

it takes time to acquire new skills, so if you're new to writing, please don't give up! It's fun and a long path, and I promise you'll love it, even more, the more you write!

I hope this was helpful! <3 have a nice day

also, i just released a new freebie!!! it's a free workbook for writers with over 90 pages to guide you through the process of plotting a novel. you might be interested in checking it out!! :D click here

#wriblr #writeblr #writing inspiration #writing prompts #writing advice #writers #writing #writer tips #writerscommunity #writing help #writing resources #writing tips #writer problems #amateur writer #tips for writers #fiction novel #fiction tips #original fiction #original writing #author struggles #authors #author #writer #novelwriting #novelist #novosautores #escritores #novelista #fanfiction writer #writer's block

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

I Want to Do What Lovers Do With You.◦○˚♡.˚ₓ

Pairing | Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings | 18+ only, P in V sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, praise kink, brief mention of uncomfy virginity loss (not to Eddie), brief mention of underage drinking, drug use, Eddie calls himself dumb a couple times, there’s maths talk early on I promise it’s only short.

Request | Concept. Reader has never gone on a date or anything before, they're not naive, they just haven't been interested in anyone. Eddie and reader have been crushing on each other for a while and when eddie half-jokingly asks them out they say yes. Reader being easily overwhelmed by the newfound affection and eddie having to get them used to it.

Word Count | ~4,000

A/N | So here's the thing. In hindsight I realise maybe you wanted virgin reader, and I didn't do that. I also didn't even write a date. However, I think I got the ~spirit~ of the request. I will definitely write virgin reader in the future, but I didn't do it here, sorry if that's what you were looking for. Reader is new to intimacy though, if that helps.

"Zero point seven." Eddie’s head snaps up from the calculator, waiting hopefully for the approving nods he’s been earning from you more and more. 

"Mm-hmm,” you nod, pointing to the page of rough triangles you’d drawn out for him to practice. "Now remember, the cosine of the angle is equal to the adjacent, which we want, over the hypotenuse, which is twenty three, so..."

"I've gotta divide something now."

"Well, how about you write the equation down with what you have?"

"Shit," he sighs, leaning back in his chair. "That's just your nerdy way of telling me I gotta multiply."

You smile in spite of yourself, knowing that Eddie is the only person who has ever called you a nerd without any real malice. There's admiration, appreciation, in his tone somewhere, under the frustration.

"C'mon. Give it a try and then we can take a break, yeah?"

Eddie's face splits in a conspiratorial grin. “What sort of break are we talking here?"

"That depends on whether you answer correctly."

"Man. If only my real teachers knew how to motivate me like you. I'd probably have graduated early."

"Eddie. The cosine of the angle equals?"

"That’s just cruel. I’m trying to concentrate and you know your teacher voice gets me going."

You have to fight a nervous laugh, choosing instead to bite the inside of your lip and gesture to the paper with your head. Eddie sighs and brings his attention to the square lined notebook, twisting the pen round his fingers while he glances between the question and the calculator. You watch him pull his own plump lip between his teeth, hair falling over his shoulders when he leans down to stare at the numbers on the page the way he needs to do sometimes. He looks so sweetly determined your heart aches.

That's unique to him, too.

When you were twelve, you’d read teen romance novels and imagined yourself falling for someone the second you entered high school. Then you got there and boys were…exactly as they always had been. Sometimes friendly, sometimes cruel, but never very interesting. Your heart didn’t flutter, your knees didn’t shake. 

Even when you lost your virginity, fumbling in the dark, head fuzzy with an early taste of alcohol, and it had been an endeavour of pure mediocrity. You expected it to hurt, but you wanted that hurt to feel like passion. Instead, it was an uncomfortable burn that had you gritting your teeth and avoiding wet kisses until he was done. 

Luke Thompson would catch your eye in Physics years later, looking forlorn and longing. 

Then there had been senior prom, something you had dreamt of when you were a pre-teen waiting for epic romance. You thought you probably would go, if you were asked. But when a smooth talking basketball player had sidled up to your locker, talking all kinds of slush about how he’d always thought you would get along but had never had the guts to ask you out, you’d weighed an evening of dancing awkwardly and pulling a strapless chiffon dress up to your armpits every twenty seconds against sitting comfy in your pyjamas and renting a good movie from Family Video. 

You spent prom night gorging on microwave popcorn and falling asleep with Dune playing in the background.

You left for college, away from Hawkins and high school and boys whose parents knew your parents, and it allowed you one night stands without the pressure of seeing them in class every day after. Just the occasional awkward nod across a hallway, if you remembered them at all. Whatever they were, it was not love, or even affection. You were using them, and felt used in turn.

But now there’s Eddie.

When you were at school together, you moved in entirely different circles. Then you’d come back from your first year of college with fewer friends in Hawkins and a new interest in Mary Jane. You’d been standing in his trailer, fishing in your purse for a five dollar bill when he’d stopped you with, “hey, you’re kind of a nerd right?��

You blinked, raised an eyebrow. “There are seven hand painted Dungeons and Dragons miniatures to my right, Munson. You really wanna play this game?”

He grinned, a little surprised by the bite back. “Yeah, but a real nerd. You’re smart, I mean?”

“Not many people would admit to being stupid.”

“I do.” 

You think that’s probably where it started. The ache for him. Eddie Munson, who you’d always dismissed as another boy with more confidence than he had any right to, stood there in his room, a sad but accepting smile on his face, and told you he thought there was something wrong with his brain.

“I mean, I never understand anything when I’m in class,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “And then whenever I think, maybe, I’m starting to get it, we move on to something else and I’m left sitting there like, hey, you’re not gonna go over that another couple times?” Eddie gave a defeated shrug. “I’m gonna fail again this year, I just know it.”

“Well, you don’t actually know that,” you’d tried, feeling guilty when he’d rolled his eyes at the meaningless platitude. “Okay, what, you want me to tutor you or something?”

“Yeah? I mean nobody smart enough at school would risk being seen with me. Wouldn’t be a problem for you though, right? You’re a college girl now, above that kind of stuff.”

“And the benefit to me would be?”

“Free bud? Or whatever else you’re into,” he shrugged, dimples appearing soon after as he leaned into your space, your heart beating in your ears. “I’ve heard you academic types struggle to stay away from the good stuff.”

So while your new friends from college are spending their long Summer in Key Largo, or camping in Joshua Tree, you are at home in Hawkins, driving most days to Eddie’s trailer to get him where he should be in Math, English, Science and Geography. 

You are giving him more help than he’s paying you for, but it didn’t take you long to think of him as worth it.

Big brown eyes you have to get up close to appreciate, pretty pink lips always smiling when you’re around. He’s self deprecating but he blushes when you compliment and encourage him. Eddie calls you smart with adorable reverence and listens to your opinions. He’s funny and he’s talented and you want to hold his face in your hands and squish. 

It’s like every embarrassing girly teenage crush you never had has been focused all on this one boy and fuck, you weren’t expecting it when you drove up to his trailer for the first time with a calculator in hand, but it’s barely been a month and you want him like you've never wanted anybody. 

You didn’t mind touching people who knew better what they were doing than poor Luke from Physics, didn’t mind clashing teeth and your face pressed into sheets. You didn’t mind that they’d leave in the morning, or you would. You never wished them back. You never imagined holding their hand the way you think about holding Eddie's hand. Warm, big, soft in the palms and rough at the ends of his fingers, chunky rings you want to bring to your face and stare at.  

You think so many things about Eddie you never expected, wonder endlessly about what you wish to know. 

What is his favourite food? Could make it for him as he wants it? Does he like horror movies, or is that an assumption? Even if he doesn't, would he watch one with you anyway, let you cuddle into his side on his Uncle’s couch, jumping and laughing together? Would he want to drive you places, play the gentleman? Would he want to meet your parents? Get a house in the city? Adopt a dog or a cat? Go on dates and be sweet with each other well into your sixties?

What does Eddie picture when he thinks about his future? Are you there?

You wonder if he knows. No matter what he says, Eddie is not dumb, not even close. Surely he has to see that you’re giving more than you’re getting back. 

“Sixteen point one.”

You flinch a little to be pulled from your thoughts, face warm while you check his work. Scratchy, messy handwriting, calculations done correctly. You smack your hands on your knees. “Break time.”

“Hell yeah,” Eddie grins, fingers waggling in the air as he stands to search for his metal lunchbox.

“You left it in the kitchen.”

Eddie pauses to give you a warm, thankful smile, hand coming to lay flat on the left side of his chest. “You always keep me right, sweet thing.”

You have a love-hate relationship with the flirting. It makes your palms sweat like nothing else, your stomach do something it has only ever done at the first jolt forward on a roller coaster, your heart pound in excitement even as it aches with worry. It's exhausting. 

Eddie reappears at his door, hair flying out behind him as he glides over to you, settled on his bed. He settles in next to you, his long arm warm and in line with yours from shoulder to elbow. While he rolls a spliff on his side table, you pick at a new hole on the knees of your blue jeans. You scowl, thinking about how you’ll never locate a pair as good as these in Hawkins, thinking about driving to a city for the day, thinking about abandoning this place altogether, heading back to your college town where good stores sell quality jeans and whatever else you could want. Away from here, away from Eddie, who is beginning to torture you with his smiles.

And his touch.

Eddie grabs your hand from your knee to pass you the newly lit joint, leaving your skin aching to remember the feeling of his calloused fingers. You know his eyes are on your face when you take a drag, and you wonder helplessly if you look cute, or hot, or sexy in your college sweater and jeans, lips wrapped around rolled paper. 

It's a new feeling, and you can't say you're enjoying it. Since spending all this time with Eddie, you’ve come to understand why other people had so much trouble getting their heads down at school. If you thought like this back then, endlessly pondering the prospect of being liked, desired, loved, you would never have got anything done. 

“Hey,” Eddie says when he takes the joint back. “I have a question.”

“No, I don’t expect you to get back to trigonometry when we’re done.”

You hear the rushed breath from his nose, a little amused sound. “No question there. You lose all authority when you’re high.”

“Do not. I could make you study.”

“Nah,” he answers, eyes crinkling at the sides pleasantly, just like everything he does. “You get pretty docile. You’d let me do anything I wanted.”

His fingers brush yours at the next pass, a heated tingle running up your back and across your neck. Your mouth feels a little dry, and you lick your lips like it’ll help, thinking about all the implications of that sentence. “Not anything.”

Eddie has the good sense to blush then, but he quickly shakes his head and powers through. “What I was going to ask was, how come a girl like you is spending her Summer with me?”

You raise an eyebrow, settling back into his pillows to get comfy as your head begins to fuzz, trying to ignore the pleasant hit of his smell emanating from the squished fabric. “Were you smoking this before I got here? You asked me to tutor you.”

“Yeah, and God knows I need all the help you’re giving me,” he says, eyes wide and earnest. “I mean, seriously, I feel like I have a real chance of crawling my way out next year. But what I- what I meant was, and tell me if I’m crossing a line here, sweetheart, how come you’re here, with me, and not road tripping with some college boys or whatever all your friends are doing right now?”

Your face gets hotter. “Does it matter?”

“Does it- yeah. Yes. It matters.”

A prickle of recognition crawls up your spine, stemming from his tone, the way he’s looking at you, how he’s sitting; tense against your side. In the past, you would have felt pure dread, mind working overtime to prepare the required explanation for a boy who was really looking for you to change your mind. Instead, there’s nerves, all along your body, but there is excitement, too. Butterflies zipping about in your stomach. 

“Why?” You ask, passing the joint back, letting yourself freely enjoy the brief touch of his skin, now that you realise that’s allowed. “Why does it matter?”

Eddie blinks at you, his bottom lip shaking. “Well, if I’m being honest,” he starts, pausing to turn away from you and take a long drag like he needs a moment to think it through. Then he eyes you from the side, thumb flicking ash into a metal tray. “I guess the answer might save me from making a fool of myself? If you say that this is all an elaborate prank or I have a rich distant relative paying you to spend time with me or, I don’t know, that helping out super seniors will be good on your resume, then, then I’d accept it. And even this particularly dumb super senior would know not to ask a really, really dumb question.”

“You’re not dumb, Eddie.” You nudge his body with yours, head cottony, loose lipped. “I really, really wish you’d stop saying that.”

Eddie’s gaze moves to your face where you are leaning back on his pillows, watches the subtle turn of your head, rubbing your cheek against the cotton, the feel of it uniquely pleasant after a couple hits. 

“I’ll do whatever you tell me to if you go out with me.”

It sounds like he wasn't even entirely aware he was speaking until he's done. Eddie's eyes widen, his face flushing pink.

“Is that you asking me?”

“Depends on whether you answer correctly” 

Eddie smiles at the repetition, like he’s playing coy, like this is fun, but he is too expressive by half. His big eyes are searching, waiting, with a hint of resignation, to learn that he is fooling himself. 

Eddie always came across as cocky to you, at school. Just like the jocks he hated, he was an overconfident boy. Even now you can picture him stepping up on cafeteria tables and declaring himself a rebel with about a million different causes. But here, alone with you in his room, Eddie makes himself vulnerable.

Your cautious heart calls out to his. Don’t worry, me too.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself not to look away. “I’d say yes, Eddie.”

You receive a classically Eddie slow blink, followed by a grin that screams every ounce of his joy and relief. His head tilts forward. “Shit. You’re serious?”

"If you are."

"Jesus- yes, I'm serious." Eddie nods emphatically, eyes wide like he’s worried you’ll take it back if he doesn’t establish how much he meant it. “We could get dinner? Or I’ll take you to the nice cinema in the next town? Or- or the lake, or I could show you the bar my friends and I play in-”

You gaze at him, butterflies erupting at the sight of his pleased smile, the way his hair moves with every excited tilt and nod of his head. This is new, and exciting, and scary.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ♡ ୧.˚ₓ  

You stay in Hawkins until the end of Summer, until you have to go back to college and Eddie needs work for his final, final year at high school. 

He sends you off with a worn Metallica t-shirt to wrap around a pillow and cuddle into, a buzzy, crackling recording on tape of his voice over guitar, the black ring from his right hand that would be a promise made too early if it was from anyone else. 

You leave him with all the pens he chewed the tops of, hand written practice sheets for every class he’s taking, old notes on differentiation, centripetal force, the River Nile, searched for and retrieved from the back of closets in your parents house. You hope Eddie knows that this is you trying.

Across the months you spend in his arms with weather cooling and trees turning, followed by stolen weekends, every break from classes lasting longer than three days, you learn so many things about Eddie. 

He eats boxed mac and cheese by the pot. When you boil up some pasta on your own, he shovels it down the same way, surprised when the rich homemade sauce leads to you rubbing his tummy all night and trying not to laugh while he groans out that every spoonful was worth the pain.

He likes all kinds of horror movies; psychological and slasher and comedy. Getting you under his arm while they play in his living room and covering your eyes without your permission during the scary parts becomes a particular joy for him. 

“Eddie, get off!” 

“No can do, sweet thing. Gotta protect you from potential nightmare material. That’s my job now.”

He loves driving you everywhere, loves the sight of you in his van, sorting through the tapes in his glove compartment.

“Mega…Death?” 

“The world’s foremost thrash metal band. Great choice.” 

He wants to meet your parents, but he’s scared of what they’ll think of him. Dog or cat, he doesn’t mind as long as it’s not a horrible little yappy thing. He wants to get out of this town forever, live in a city, or really anywhere but here, where he could afford a nice-ish place. 

When he pictures his future, you are there. 

“Course, I would stay in Hawkins if you wanted to move back here.”

You’re trying, all of the time. You want him more than anything, because this is different, this is special, but that’s also what makes it so difficult. You are used to pleasured touches followed by closing doors, and it has left you disarmed to the open way that Eddie loves you, the only way he knows how.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs to your cheek, the roll of his hips a steady, torturous rhythm, drawing long whines from the back of your throat. Eddie’s big hand covers your forehead, pushing sweaty stray hairs away, rubbing your eyebrow with his thumb. The other is tucked under your back, helping you to arch sweetly so the head of his cock can find the spot at the back of your pussy that claims you, makes you desperate for him, with each heavy thrust. His brown eyes are sympathetic to your whimpers, proud of you for taking everything he has to give, even when it feels like your heart will beat out of your chest. “It’s always just a little too much for my sweet girl, mm? Still not used to being touched right.” He sighs, gives you a little pout with shining eyes. “I left you waiting too long for me, didn’t I?”

“Eddie,” you cry, fingers digging into his back, arms and legs wrapped tight around him as if he might leave if you let him loose. It’s perfect like this, his body weighing down on yours. You are too warm, your lungs protesting the lack of space to expand, but you can feel Eddie’s skin against every part of you. Any time you want, you can reach up to tuck some of his hair back off his sweaty neck. You do, earning yourself a perfect Eddie smile and a kiss from soft lips. The taste of his mouth, familiar to you now, makes your body clench around him, arms and legs around his torso, your weeping cunt around his cock. Nothing is like this, nothing is so perfectly overwhelmingly right.

“Oh, I felt that,” he smiles, breath spreading across your face at his chuckle. “Remember the first time you let me inside you? Wanted to be bent over and fucked, like you’re used to, mm?” Your toes curl in embarrassment, wanting to hide your face from him but there’s nowhere to go with his gentle hand holding you in place. You are left with your watering eyes, his pretty face blurring until you just about manage to blink the tears away. “It’s better like this, isn’t it?” He presses kisses down your nose, across your cheek to the corner of your mouth, sighing happily. “It’s better when we make love?”

You seize up, crying out, your back arching further as if you could get any closer to him. Eddie fucks you through the desperate clenching of your cunt, each hit to the spongy nerves of your spot building your pleasure past what should have been its peak. Your hand drifts up his back, grasping his neck from behind, fingers flexing and pulling at his pale skin enough that there will be dark bruises there tomorrow. 

At the heavy sob that falls from your mouth, Eddie lets you up, wrapping a hand around the back of your head to help you bury your face in his neck. 

Eddie hums as you come down, hips moving in tight circles like he’s just trying to get deeper while you weep into his skin. Your lungs feel increasingly restrained, little gasping breaths between wails, still confined between Eddie’s body and the mattress. “C’mon,” he says, leaning down to kiss your temple, rubbing below your ear with his thumb. “Let me see you. Need your pretty eyes to make me come.”

You feel him twitch inside you when he settles you back into his pillows, blinking up at him, finally letting the tears fall. The first time Eddie made you cry like this, overwhelmed at the intensity of feeling for him and all he does to you, you were afraid he would slow down, that it would ruin it for him. 

He’d licked the tears off your cheek and grunted through gritted teeth that nothing had ever made him so hot.

Eddie stares at you intensely now, mouth relaxed and open, letting out excited groans as his hips stutter, almost ready to fill you up. He could cum without your voice, like the others before him, but he is the first who deserves it.

“You treat me so well, Eddie,” you breathe, taking a shaky gasp at the sudden increase in the pace of his thrusts. 

Eddie nods desperately, his bottom lip shaking. “‘M trying.”

“I know,” you nod in turn, grasping his face with your hands, whispering so he knows it is all only for him. “I’m so lucky, Eddie. You’re so good, so good. Better than anything when you make love to me.”

His lips find yours to kiss you, but you end up breathing in his final moan instead, feeling him fill you up right with pooling warmth. Your legs squeeze his back, your pussy gifting you another little peak, a grateful flutter for taking Eddie’s cum deep inside you. 

Eddie drops entirely then, face pressed to the base of your neck. You groan a little, but allow yourself to caress his face, sweep his hair away from his sweaty forehead, hold it away from his heated neck. He presses a final wet kiss to your collar and rolls off you, finally allowing your protesting lungs the space to breathe properly. 

It doesn’t last long. Without ceremony, your whole body is pulled towards him, leaving your face tight to his chest. It steals the fresh air of the room, replacing it with the humidity your bodies create this close together. 

But it’s good. It’s better, because it smells like Eddie, feels like Eddie, and everything is better with him.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #my stuff

[theprettynosferatu]

CW: Orientation play/conversion. Remember that your sexuality is valid, and conversion is NOT a thing beyond fantasy. Also, fuck "conversion therapy"

“All I’m saying is…”

“Look, you’re speaking out of your ass”, Ava said, barely containing her frustration.

“How am I speaking out of my ass? It has been done and thoroughly…”, he tried to reply.

“Yes, yes, Pavlov, blah blah blah. But you’re talking about something else entirely, not conditioning reactions”

“Not Pavlov, Skinner! Actions can be conditioned too. Look around you! Mobile games, casinos, even the goddamn army uses conditioning to…”

“Can we agree that there’s a difference between conditioning obedience in a controlled setting and whatever the fuck it is you’re suggesting? You’re not talking about tapping on impulse to buy funbucks in a game! You are talking…”

“It’s only a difference of degree, not of kind. With the right combination of techniques…”

“No, there’s a core there that you can’t just… overwrite. Some things can’t be changed. Like… like how you can’t hypnotize someone into doing something they would never do”

“You know that’s bullshit, right? The whole hypnosis thing. You absolutely can make someone do whatever the fuck you want. It’s just a matter of how you approach it. Like, you would never harm a person, okay? But if I change what your idea of ‘person’ is, say, by making it more narrow you would absolutely harm someone I made you see as a not-person. Or maybe you can be made to believe you’re helping them, not harming them”

“That’s some creepy cult shit, dude. And anyway you can’t write a paper on this because a) there’s no evidence and b) doing the research to get evidence would be absolutely immoral. So I say look for another topic and for the love of God don’t go around spewing that bullshit if you want to ever get laid. Oh, speaking of! Linda will be arriving shortly and we have a date night, so please, please try to be a normal roommate and not freak her out. For me, okay?”

“When have I ever freaked her out? Linda loves me! And who knows, maybe she has an opinion on our little debate”

“Dude, she’s an Art student. I doubt she’ll be interested in our weird Psych dissertations”

“Perfect! Fresh eyes!”

“See, that’s the kind of weird shit I-”

The buzzer cut through the air, and a moment later Linda was inside the apartment, all smiles as usual. He took a moment to watch them as they embraced. 

They were almost comical in their contrast. Linda was tall, taller than he was, willowy and slender, her limbs graceful and shapely, her hair a long, flowing river of playful copper that almost seemed to dance on its own volition– with her green sundress she appeared to him as some sort of elven princess ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel and stuck into a mortal world in which she didn’t really fit. Ava, on the other hand, was probably the shortest adult he had ever seen. He might be tempted to call her petite, but that had a connotation of a lithe frame, almost like a tastefully proportioned doll. Ava was the complete opposite of that. Sometimes he felt Ava was an experiment aimed at testing how much of a person’s weight could be tits and ass, held up by strong, thick thighs. He felt quite guilty about such thoughts, and he understood why she wore nothing but oversized t-shirts and hoodies. It was logical: an early, spectacular growth spurt, heightened by her small size, had made her the target of relentless bullying by jealous classmates and awkward come-ons by hormonal teen males. It enraged him, he realized. Ava was beautiful and the cruelty of idiots had made her feel pain about it instead of pride. He made a point to never stare at her, even if he sometimes failed. It made their relationship as roommates a tad hard, he had to admit. 

 

Not that he had a shadow of a shot, of course. Ava had no interest in men.

Unless, of course, he was right in his theory. And he had good reason to think he was.

“So, Linda: Ava and I were having a bit of a debate…”

“Don’t start, dude”, said Ava.

“Oh, a debate! Do tell!” chirped Linda.

“Do you think we can be completely conditioned and changed, or is there some part of us that cannot be modified, no matter what?”

“Huh. Hard one. Like… a soul? I don’t know I buy it. I feel there isn’t really a self, you know? Like… Buddhism. The self is an illusion and all that”

“Come on, you can’t be serious! You can’t change who someone fundamentally is, and it’s sick to even consider it!”, said Ava.

“Well… what if I could prove to you it can be done?”, he stated, barely able to hold back. He know what he was going to do. He had been reluctant, but now it felt like a certainty.

“You can’t, so stop being an ass”, said Ava.

Fine. Game on.

“Linda, I love your socks! Pride socks!”

“Yup!”, said Linda

“What the hell–”, mumbled Ava.

He took a deep breath.

“Linda: rainbow socks…”

She replied in an instant.

“Are for sucking cocks!”

Ava felt as if reality had shifted into some horrible, twisted nightmare. She was about to scream something, anything really, to make Linda take that back before something stopped her in her tracks. Her body heard it before her mind did: her roommate's voice simply commanding her. Watch. 

And she watched. She watched as the love of her life smiled and went on her knees. Ava could do nothing but watch in disbelief and pain. Linda had never been with a man. Ever. 

“I might have… started testing my theories. On you both. Not that you’d remember, obviously”, he stated casually as the beautiful girl in front of him lovingly undid his pants. “I’d say Linda’s sexuality is part of her core self, wouldn’t you? Let’s see how that holds up after the months of conditioning I’ve subjected her to”

He felt guilty, sure; but there was such a high to it, such an entrancing quality to the combination of seeing instant, complete obedience and the final, definitive proof of the truth he had known to be right all along. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? Not at the moment. Ava’s eyes were a poem to him. Suddenly he was ripped from his reverie by the soft, loving touch of Linda’s tongue on his dick. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten hard just from the sense of complete power, of total, undeniable conquest. This was a primal, ancient arousal. Ava could do nothing but watch, and he took that sight in. God, he could almost taste it.

Linda moaned. The cock was so beautiful. So perfect. She felt so… silly, like she was now, for the first time, seeing in color and realizing the sky was, in fact, blue. It was obvious. Simple. Natural. Cock deserved worship. Cock deserved devotion. Cock demanded obedience. It was as if it was growing in her mind, taking over more and more of her, pushing who she had been out effortlessly. It expanded. It corrupted. It twisted and shifted all within. Cock. Cock. Cock. She kissed it with reverence, in awe of it. It was all that existed to her. All that mattered. She needed to please it. Needed to feel it throbbing inside her. Needed to be taken by it.

Ava saw her girlfriend slide a hand between her legs and felt nauseous. As much as she knew this wasn’t Linda’s fault, she could feel her heart breaking, her anger rising… and worse, her pussy getting wet. Her body betraying her. She hated him, and she hated Linda, and she hated herself most of all.

Suddenly, Linda couldn’t contain herself. She relaxed her throat, looked up at her Master and took his entire manhood inside her mouth. She almost came instantly. It was peaceful and sexy and just simple, like his cock was the puzzle piece that fit her perfectly, completed her, made her whole. She existed to be conquered, and realizing she was putting his pleasure over her ability to breathe was the final sign of her complete, loving surrender. She let it out, watched it glisten with her spit, and started licking it and loving it and she didn’t know how much came from her own need and how much it was a silent command by the man who had shown her the light. Her mind was too fuzzy to make such distinctions anymore.

He took a deep breath, fighting back the first signs of an orgasm. He needed to make a point.

“Linda… do you love Ava?”

The blonde stopped for a moment, shocked by a myriad of contradictions.

“Yes”, she decided. Her voice was shaking.

“Tell her”

Linda looked at Ava, the woman she had loved above all others.

“I love you…”

“But you have more to say, don’t you?”

“I… hmph… I…”

“Tell her”

“I love you… but… but… I love his cock so much more! Fuck! I need it! I need to feel it, to suck it, to be fucked by it… I’m sorry… but… I love it, I love it, I love it! I want it to fuck my throat, to take my cunt, to ram my ass! I need it! I need to be a slave to it, a whore for it, a fucking living toy!”

“What if you had to choose between Ava and my cock?”

“Fuck her! Sorry, my love… I do love you, but… You can never do to me what… what Master does to me, what his cock makes me feel! I hope I won’t have to dump you but… I would leave you for this cock in a minute! I’d do anything. Anything. Anything!” If she had more to add, her need to serve cock snuffed it. She took it all in with desperation, with total, shameless abandon. She needed to feel... used. In her proper place.

Ava felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her knees buckled in defeat. She didn’t even care. It was all gone. Her life, her love, all gone. And she could feel her eyes drawn again and again to the cock that had destroyed her. She felt her mouth watering.

“Linda, would you say you’re a lesbian?”

“Fuck no!”, she said before immediately wrapping her lips around the cock’s head.  

He felt a swell of pride. Of triumph. He knew Ava sensed the truth as well. He was right. He had proven his point. And now Ava’s full conditioning would take hold. A little bet with himself, making her own mental acknowledgment of his theory her final trigger. She took off her t-shirt. She would never wear it again. No more shame, no more pain about her figure. Only arousal and pride. His gift to her.

She crawled to him on all fours. The girls kissed– but now, they kissed for him, to arouse him. They were lovers, only they both knew there was a higher love. A truer love. Ava looked up at her owner and opened her mouth, greedily awaiting his blessing. Linda used her skillful hands, aiming his cock and teasing it, jacking it off, using just the right amount of pressure and speed. 

No man could resist such a sight.

In a few seconds, Ava was covered in his cum, more beautiful than she had ever been. Linda certainly felt that way, and she licked and kissed her sister slut clean.

He watched carefully, looking for signs of defiance, and finding none. In fact, Linda put his fears to rest with a simple statement.

“Ava, we need to buy you a pair of rainbow socks”

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !!

[asleepinawell]

sorry if this seems a bit out of the blue, but ever since youve been posting about fallen london, im a bit curious about it! What is the game about and where can I get it?

oh no worries! I'm happy to ramble about it

fallen london is a free to play browser game you can find here. the basic premise is that sometime in the 1800's the entire city of london is engulfed in a swarm of bats and then falls through the earth into a cavern a mile below. this is the neath, a huge underground cavern where london sits on the shore of a vast ocean. queen victoria is still around locked in her palace being a typical shitty british monarch, who, amongst other things, decided that 1900 was cancelled and we were just going to have 1899 for a second time

things are a little...different down there. humans are far from the only ones running around. there's devils, rubbery men (think mind flayer vibes), clay men, and the shadowy cloaked figures running the bazaar (and the city) called the masters. death mostly isn't permanent and the dream world is a little too real. also, most importantly, cats can talk! and there are tons of them! and tigers too

it's got victorian, gothic horror, dark humor, lovecraftian vibes. also it's extremely queer as is everything the dev, failbetter games, makes. something I especially appreciate is that you don't have to give your character any particular gender (though you can) and some of the little avatars are very gender neutral:

since it's free to play it comes with the normal things that type of game has such as real money transactions (completely optional and unnecessary for enjoyment (though some of the bonus side stories you can buy are extremely cool)), limited number of actions you can take (max of 20 at a time and refills 1 per 10 minutes). it is definitely grindy too though there's so many things to do (cannot emphasize the insane amount of content enough) I will usually just switch things up every so often

it's single player for the most part but you can ask friends to assist you in certain actions and there are some specific items that can be sent to other players

(if you like the setting but not the free to play part you can check out mask of the rose which is a visual novel they just released set right after london fell. it's a romance but with full aro and ace options (which I actually preferred) and a murder mystery. that one is a normal just buy the whole game deal and I think it's on most platforms. there's also sunless seas and sunless skies which take place in the same world but are a very different type of game and would require their own post. all of these have great writing in them)

but back to fallen london. it works based off of 'storylets', or little short stories when you usually do a skill check to accomplish something in return for advancing the story, levelling your skills, and reward items. you unlock more and more things as you go and get access to new stories and areas. here's an example of one of the little activities and its resolution

since it's a game designed to be able to play endlessly there isn't really a way to lose or game over. you can die but dying is just a minigame of its own and sometimes even a thing to do purposefully. (the only actual way to die is the notorious story called seeking mr eaten's name which you may have seen me post about, which is a very unique story that will permanently erase your character at the end. why you'd ever want to do that would also be its own post. it's pretty hard to stumble on accidentally I think and extremely well-marked as a thing with severe consequences that you probably shouldn't do. or should you...)

anyway I'd definitely recommend giving fallen london a try if you're interested in the premise and aesthetic

#fallen london #flmp #mp #asks

[weirdmorefics]

So Very Basic- Spencer Reid X Reader

A/N- This may have just been an excuse for me to infodump about Pride and Prejudice but I swear the fic is still good! Reader is also very Autistic coded but I am Autistic so that happens a lot when I write hope you don't mind.

Pronouns- She/her

Tooth-Rooting Fluff

Word Count- 822

Summary- Spencer judging your book tastes on the jet back home.

Spencer and I have made it a habit of sitting next to each other every flight home. We usually talk about the recent books we have finished or are currently reading. Sometimes we just sit in silence and read together. These are my favorite moments in my life I never feel calmer in the jet with Spencer by my side or across from me. This time it felt different though Spencer's eyes have not left me once I swear he hadn't flipped a page of his book.

"Hey Spence, What's your book about?" I say trying to hint at the fact that I can obviously see he has not flipped a single page.

He seemed startled by my sudden question but proceeded to tell me the entire synopsis of his book.

I slam my book shut and shout, "You have read that book already!"

He seemed perplexed by my reaction "There is no rule against rereading books I think authors would prefer you reread their works."

I groan, "There is when you spend the whole flight staring at me distracting me from my book."

Spencer flushes and I am one hundred percent sure I am right now.

"Hotch the children are fighting again!" Rossi shouts like a mother making me shake my head at him.

"Hotch Spence is poking meee," Emily teases in her best Y/N impersonation. JJ of course joins in playing the role of Spencer, "I am not Y/n." She draws out my name.

Spencer and I look as red as two tomatoes and my safe space has turned into an inescapable nightmare.

He leans in and whispers in my ear, "You know this is your fault for picking the most basic Jane Austen novel."

I gasp dramatically which of course just causes more stares from the team.

Derek sighed knowing this Y/n gasp all too well, "Pretty boy what are you doing offending Y/n? Do you want to listen to another one of her defensive rants for thirty minutes?"

"I quite enjoy them," Spencer smiles.

Rossi rolls his eyes, "You would."

I stand up, "Pride and Prejudice is beautiful from its book, it's movie, and it's BBC Special!"

JJ sighs," Here she goes."

"The drama in the book is spectacular as it delves into each sister's feelings about marriage and how at the time it was their only option. Don't even get me started on the twenty-seven with no prospects speech! Oh my goodness Darcy is the perfect match for Elizabeth with them both being so headstrong makes for the best enemies to lovers! Speaking of Darcy in the film when he does that hand-clench thing it was not even in the book! It wasn't even scripted! Which made me feel he was the perfect actor for Darcy he understood the role perfectly!" I ramble out putting my hand on my chest the rest of the team is annoyed at another one of my outbursts but Spencer is looking at me like I am the only person on the plane and I flush when I meet his eyes.

Hotch shouts at me, "L/N would you sit down we are about to go into a patch of turbulence." He of course says this too late and I embarrassingly fall on top of Spencer.

I immediately try to scramble off Spencer but he holds me there. I look away from him trying to hide my flushed face and he asks if I am alright.

"Yup, just mortified but everybody needs a good daily dose of that am I right." I smile trying to play it off but I play with my hair a common tell of mine that everyone in the BAU knows by now.

"You know I have never seen the Pride and Prejudice film," Spencer says slyly.

My eyes light up "You must see it! It's on Netflix I have seen it over a hundred times! I can probably quote all the words by now."

"I actually don't have Netflix I don't really watch television," He rubs the back of his neck.

"That's fine I could totally bring my laptop to you to watch it! Or we could watch it at my apartment!" I ramble out coming off more excited than I meant to.

"That sounds great," Spencer smiles, "Do you really know all the words you could recite some now?" He teases.

I turn the deepest red I think I have ever been in my life and of course, Derek has to jump in.

"Oh pretty boy has moves," he whistles.

Spence rolls his eyes "Shut up Morgan."

"Could we all shut up? Some of us like to rest so we can actually focus on work when we get back." Hotch says in his typical annoyed-with-us voice.

"I guess reciting Pride and Prejudice to you will have to wait," I whisper into Spencer's ear it was finally my time to make him blush.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[eamour]

all about techniques.

there are so so many techniques and methods that people have come up with to make manifesting easier and more entertaining. so, let’s talk about the most important points when practicing those techniques!

manifestation techniques.

a technique in terms of manifesting is a method to make you experience the satisfaction of your desire within your imagination. it does not only make manifesting easier and more enjoyable for you but it also helps you to shift your concept of self. you can use any technique to help you embody or identify with your desire.

techniques don’t manifest.

the problem with techniques in manifestation (such as visualisation, affirmations, sats, the "i am/void"-state) is that people tend to assign power to these techniques — more power than to themselves.

again, a method is supposed to HELP and ASSIST you. it’s not doing any of the creating-your-reality work, unlike you. YOU are indeed manifesting things into your reality, with or without a technique. remember. you are manifesting at all times, you are occupying all sorts of states throughout the day, making your current state of consciousness manifest. are you scripting for each state which you NATURALLY shift to? no matter what technique you do, its only purpose is to help you create experiences you would like to have mentally. that’s where all manifestations take place first — in the MIND. not because you have written it down on paper.

all techniques are equal.

when i say "equal", i'm not saying that each technique is the same in terms of what you're doing and how you're doing it. no, all techniques are equal because they all FUNCTION equally and guarantee the same results. no technique works better than the other. no technique is either superior, or inferior.

here's the thing: the reason why people say "this technique works so much better and faster for me!" is because they favour it. they enjoy doing it. doing the technique feels natural to them and doesn’t require a lot of effort. it’s not something that they have to bring themselves to do with force — they LIKE doing it. that’s because we are all different. i know people who could write a fucking novel with the scripts they have in mind. then i know people who love to affirm whenever they can because they think it’s convenient for them to do. and then there is me who loves to listen to music and visualise my desired scenes. what we have in common is that we do all these techniques because they suit us and we can choose to try any other technique whenever we want. we aren’t tied to one technique only. sometimes i end up writing a whole list of things that i want to have, accept it as mine, and go on with my day. works JUST as well as visualising.

please, do not …

... force it · for example, the scenes you could visualise when trying to fulfill yourself or let yourself experience a scenario you desire should come to you naturally. the affirmation you would like to use should feel natural to you. a technique is always something you choose to do voluntarily. it isn’t a rule you need to follow. you're not obligated to do this exact technique for this long and that many days, and so on.

... perfect it · when you do a technique, it’s not your goal to do it as perfect and as accurate as possible. you don’t have to visualise a picture perfect scene, nor will you fail to manifest if you miss to affirm the rest of your affirmations-list. you can forget details when scripting, be as detailed or vague in your visual scenes, or only affirm one single affirmation — that’s perfectly fine! your perfect scene in imagination or your affirmations aren’t what makes it perfect in the physical world, it’s the FEELING you get from it. if you can perfectly FULFILL yourself, then it will be perfectly reflected back to you in its physical form. inner acceptance is what creates fulfillment, not the perfection of a technique.

... complicate it · a technique cannot put you into a spiral and make you question your whole reality just because you think you haven’t done it "correctly". there is no right way to do a technique and no fixed way to practice it. do whatever you like and however you like it!

... follow others · now, you can definitely try a technique that seems interesting to you, that has been introduced to you by others or that you think will be enjoyable. nevertheless, a technique that feels normal and natural to others doesn’t have to feel normal and natural to you. don’t commit to doing something because you think or you've been told that this is the technique you need to do in order to manifest your desire.

no have to's, only want to's.

the premise of each and every technique is that you WANT to do it. there is no forcing, no pushing, no "need to" or "have to". it’s personal, it’s something YOU like doing, not what the bigger collective seems to be practicing. this is what i always remind myself of when practicing anything loa related: you cannot commit to something you dont love, you’ll cheat. meaning, you won’t be able to do a technique properly (as in, having and being), therefore won’t change self and remain the exact same.

if you like visualising, do it! if you like affirming all the time, do it! if you like counting your affirmations, do it! if you like scripting, do it! if you do the lullaby method before going to bed, do it! if you like rampaging after you wake up, do it! again, you are the creator and you choose which technique(s) suits you the best.

what to do.

when manifesting with the help of a technique, focus on inner acceptance. accept your desire as factual. make it a present, undeniable fact. because accepting your desire to be true means to identify with it in imagination, therefore you BE or HAVE it. that’s your goal, that’s your priority.

with love, ella.

#loa #law of assumption #loassumption #the law of assumption #neville goddard #edward art #manifestation #manifesting #manifest #manifest it #manifesting it #master manifestor #how to manifest #states #eiypo #everyone is you pushed out #sp #self concept #specific person #spiritual #spirituality #subliminals #law of attraction #void state #i am state #reality shifting #shifting realities #shiftblr #loablr #loa tumblr