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wayneskluv · 5 months ago

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Wonder Woman's daughter x Bat-fam - Chapter one

summary: Your mom—Wonder Woman—just dropped you off at Wayne Manor like a kid because she apparently couldn’t find a “suitable babysitter.” Never mind that you’re a fully grown adult and more than capable of taking care of yourself. Now you’re stuck in a mansion full of brooding vigilantes, chaotic adopted siblings, and a butler who’s already silently judging your life choices.

You survived battles, monsters, and Olympian family drama—but can you survive living with the Batfamily?

word count: around 1.6k before i made final touches on tumblr editor

pairing/s: platonic!alfred x reader, platonic!damian x reader (he's a child in this fic!) and then maybe romantically dick x reader or jason x reader perhaps even tim. probably not bruce x reader. if anyone has any preferences, do let me know!

warnings: basically none at the moment. haven't pre-read. no beta, we die like jason todd. damian being a bit of a demon brat. demigod!user.

a/n: all images edited by me! if there’s an artist i haven’t credited, please let me know! i usually get my images from pinterest, and the credit is.. not great. if i’ve written something twice or misspelled something please PLEASE don’t hesitate to tell me. i very much appreciate it. but please be kind! i promise the next parts will be longer, this is sort of an intro into it. even if they aren’t longer, i’ll write a few.

# ── chapter one's POLAROID design - DAMIAN’S:

WAYNE MANOR is.. a lot.

It’s not just the size—though the sheer magnitude of the place is ridiculous—it’s the atmosphere. There’s a certain weight to the air, something woven between the old wood and polished marble, between the paintings of long-dead Waynes and the ever-present shadows stretching down the halls. It’s a house of ghosts, of past lives and quiet grief, but also of something more. Something alive.

You follow Alfred through the halls, the weight of multiple sets of eyes trailing behind you.

“So,” Dick says, effortlessly slipping into step beside you, “how long are you crashing with us?”

“Not sure,” you admit. “Mom was vague. Something about a ‘diplomatic mission’ and ‘needing someone to keep an eye on me.’”

Jason makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “You’re a grown adult. You need a babysitter?”

“Right?!” You throw up a hand. “I told her that. But apparently, my ‘tendency to attract trouble’ means I need supervision.”

Tim, still lounging on the couch with his coffee, raises an eyebrow. “You’re in good company, then.”

“I fail to see why we should be responsible for you,” Damian mutters, arms still crossed. “You’re more than capable of defending yourself. Do you require assistance dressing yourself as well?”

You smirk. “No, but thanks for the concern.” How old was this kid?

Damian bristles. Jason outright laughs.

Bruce, who had been silent up until now, finally speaks. “You’re here. You’ll train, patrol, and follow house rules. No exceptions.”

Ah. There it is. The Batman speech.

You tilt your head. “Define ‘rules.’”

Jason grins.

Bruce ignores him. “No reckless fights, no engaging Gotham’s rogues without backup, and no breaking my city.”

You cross your arms. “Define ‘breaking.’”

Tim groans into his coffee.

Dick pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

You look around at your newly acquired dysfunctional family and resist the urge to sigh.

Mom really did just dump you here like a stray dog, huh?

—

You’re led to your new room—temporary room, you remind yourself—as Alfred sweeps open the door with his usual poised efficiency.

The space is huge. Bigger than necessary. A four-poster bed, heavy oak furniture, a massive window overlooking the eternal Gotham gloom. Everything is dark wood, old money, and class. The whole place smells faintly of leather-bound books and expensive cologne. It’s… nice. In a cold, excessively rich, mildly haunted sort of way.

Alfred clears his throat. “I took the liberty of preparing the room to your specifications. If anything is unsuitable, do let me know.”

Your specifications. Right. You’d told your mom you didn’t need anything, but she must have sent a list anyway, because there’s ambrosia nectar in a crystal decanter on the desk, a thick training mat rolled up in the corner, and a wardrobe that probably contains battle-appropriate outfits tailored to your measurements.

She really did just drop you off and send instructions like you’re a dog.

“Thanks, Alfred,” you say, running a hand over the desk. Solid mahogany. You could probably suplex a god onto it, and it would hold.

He nods approvingly. “Dinner is at seven. I trust you will have no issue finding the dining hall?”

You smirk. “I don’t know. This place is a maze. You sure I won’t end up lost and starving in the east wing?”

He doesn’t blink. “Then I shall inform Master Wayne that a search party may be required.”

Alfred departs, leaving you to take in the ridiculousness of your situation. You sit on the bed—comfortably firm, definitely high-thread-count sheets—and drop onto your back, staring at the ceiling.

Your mother owes you so much for this.

—

You spend the next couple of hours getting familiar with your prison.

It’s quiet for a while. Peaceful.

Then the knocking starts.

“Hey, Newbie.”

The door opens before you can answer. Dick. Of course it’s Dick.

He leans in, all easy grins and big brother energy. “Figured I’d check in. You settled?”

“As settled as I’ll ever be,” you say, sitting up.

Dick saunters in like he owns the place (which, okay, technically he used to). He glances around, nodding at the Amazonian touches. “Mom went all out, huh?”

“She thinks Gotham is held together with duct tape. She’s probably right.”

“Oh, definitely right.”

Before you can ask what he actually wants, another figure appears in the doorway.

Jason.

He crosses his arms, giving you a slow once-over. “So. You’re an Amazon.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Dick chokes on a laugh. Jason grins.

—

The next few hours are a crash course in Batfamily survival.

Tim appears just long enough to tell you that “if you touch my coffee, I will kill you” before vanishing into the night like a cryptid.

Damian tests your reflexes by casually throwing a knife at you in the hallway. You catch it without looking. He says nothing. Just nods and walks away.

Jason decides to test your strength. By handing you a gun. You crush it in your bare hand. “…Well, okay then.”

Dick drags you into the living room for an impromptu movie night. Apparently, it’s a tradition. Jason spends half the movie making snarky Amazon jokes. Damian complains about historical inaccuracies.

By the time dinner rolls around, you’re half-convinced you’ve walked into a madhouse.

Alfred serves a massive feast (courtesy of your inhuman dietary needs). You sit at the table, surrounded by Gotham’s weirdest vigilantes, eating like an Amazon in the middle of a completely normal family meal.

It’s bizarre. It’s horrifying.

It’s… weirdly nice.

Bruce, sitting at the head of the table, barely says anything. He’s watching you, but it’s not that usual piercing Batman stare—it’s more like a curiosity. Maybe he’s wondering what kind of trouble you’ll stir up. Maybe he just doesn’t know what to make of you. You’ve barely had a real conversation with him, just him dropping you here with all the grace of a father figuring out how to deal with his kids’ newest problem. But then again, Bruce Wayne isn’t exactly father of the year.

Dick’s usual charm is in full swing as he tries to make small talk. “So, you’re a demigod, huh? You’re gonna have to teach me some moves sometime. You know, to keep up with all the crazy stuff we have to do around here.” His smile is big, open—like he’s trying to make you feel at home, but you can tell there’s a nervous energy under it. He keeps glancing at you, like he’s trying to figure out how to approach someone who could probably snap him like a twig. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Jason, sitting next to you, shovels food in with no care for finesse. “So, you’re Wonder Woman’s kid. That explains the whole glowing warrior princess thing you’ve got going on. What do you actually do with all that godly power? Sit on mountaintops and brood or do you, like, break people’s faces for a living?” His voice is laced with amusement, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes. He’s testing you.

“You’d be surprised,” you say coolly, setting your fork down. “I’ve had a bit of experience with face-breaking.”

Jason laughs. “Good, because Gotham needs a lot of that.”

Damian, who had been silently poking at his food, suddenly looks up from his plate. His eyes narrow with some strange mix of suspicion and mild interest. “You will be trained, I assume?” he asks, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “Or do you believe that your divine abilities will suffice?”

You almost choke on your drink. “Oh, I’m definitely trained, kid. What, you think just because I’m half-god I don’t need to learn how to fight like a human?”

Damian’s lips curl up into something that might be a sneer, but it’s more like the equivalent of a raised eyebrow from someone who’s always trying to one-up everyone. “I suppose that’s a good attitude, for now.”

You raise an eyebrow back, feeling the tension between you two starting to spark. “Keep thinking that.”

Tim, who’s been glaring into his phone the whole time, suddenly looks up. His expression is the usual deadpan, but you catch a flicker of curiosity. “You know,” he says, tapping on his screen, “if you really want to get the most out of this place, you’ll have to figure out which of us is your mentor. Bruce is… well, Bruce, so don’t expect much from him. But if you’re looking for a solid training regiment, maybe ask Dick or Jason. Just—don’t get too attached to the idea of normal training. This is Gotham, and we all have our… quirks.” He’s about to say more when Bruce interrupts with a sharp look.

“That’s enough, Tim,” Bruce says softly, but with authority. The room falls silent for a moment. Tim’s eyes flicker up at Bruce, then down at his phone. No more words from him.

It’s… strange. You’re used to the chaos, but this feels like a whole other level of dysfunction. They bicker like siblings, but there’s this undercurrent of something deeper—loyalty maybe? You can tell that whatever happens between these people, they’re bound by something stronger than just the weight of their shared lives.

You take a breath and cut in, trying to ease the tension. “Look, I’m just here for the short-term. All I need is a place to crash and a bit of guidance while Mom does whatever it is she’s doing.”

“Short-term?” Damian asks, raising a brow. “How short is short-term?”

You glance over at him, the corners of your mouth tugging into a smirk. “Not long enough for you to start calling me ‘sis,’ if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He glares at you. “We shall see.”

The dinner continues, awkwardly at first but slowly finding its rhythm. There’s a comfortable noise in the air now—the kind that only happens when people are used to each other’s company. And while you’re still very much the outsider in this strange little family, for the first time since you arrived, the weight of the world outside feels just a little bit lighter.

@hjgdhghoe @linnygirl09

#wayneskluv #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #tim drake x reader #dc comics #batfam #no beta we die like jason todd

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theliteraryarchitect · 1 year ago

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A Word of Advice About Critique Groups, Beta Readers, and Other Peer-Based Feedback on Your Writing

In my time as a professional editor, I've had many writers come to me with stories they've been trying to improve based on suggestions from critique groups, beta readers, or other non-professional feedback sources (friends, family, etc.). The writers are often frustrated because they don't agree with the feedback, they can't make sense of the comments they've gotten, or they've tried their best to implement the suggestions but now they've made a big mess of things and don't know where to go from here.

If this happens to you, you're not alone. Here's the deal.

Readers and beginning writers are great at sniffing out problems, but they can be terrible at recommending solutions. For that reason, critique groups can be a disastrous place for beginning writers to get advice.

Here's a good metaphor. Imagine you don’t know the first thing about cars. Someone tells you, “There’s oil leaking onto the driveway. You should cover the car with a giant garbage bag.” Alarmed, you oblige, only to be told the next day that “now the car smells like burning plastic and I can’t see out the windows.”

A mechanic would’ve listened to the critic’s complaint and come up with their own solution to the leaking oil, ignoring the amateur’s ridiculous idea, because they know how to fix cars and can use their skills to investigate symptoms and find the correct solution.

Critique groups actually aren’t bad places for experienced writers, because they can listen to the criticism, interpret it, and come up with their own remedies to the problems readers are complaining about. Beginning writers, on the other hand, can end up digging themselves into a deeper hole.

There's a great Neil Gaiman quote about this very conundrum:

Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.

So what to do?

First, try to investigate the reader's complaint and come up with your own solution, instead of taking their solution to the problem. Sometimes, in the end, the reader's solution was exactly right, which is lovely, but don't count on it. Do your own detective work.

Second, take everything you hear with a huge grain of salt, and run the numbers. Are 9 out of 10 readers complaining about your rushed ending? It's probably worth investigating. Does nobody have an issue with your abrasive antagonist except your cozy mystery-loving uncle? Then you might not need to worry about it.

Third, give everything you hear a gut check. Does the criticism, while painful, ring true? Or does it seem really off-base to you? Let the feedback sit for a week or so while you chill out. You might find you're less sensitive and open to what's been said after a little more time has passed.

Lastly, consider getting professional feedback on your writing. Part of my job as an editor is to listen to previous feedback the writer has gotten, figure out whether the readers were tracking the scent of legitimate problems, and offer the writer more coherent solutions. Of course, some professional editors aren't very good at this, just like some non-professional readers are amazing at it, so hiring someone isn't a guarantee. But editors usually have more experience taking a look under the hood and giving writers sound mechanical advice about their work, rather than spouting ideas off the top of their head that only add to the writer's confusion.

Hope this helps!

#writeblr #writing advice #op #fiction

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fairyhaos · 11 months ago

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how seventeen act with their writer s/o

requested by anon ^^

masterlist

seungcheol

he is begging. he is on his knees BEGGING you to pls let him buy you a new laptop because the one you use is literally on its last legs and makes ominous sputtering n whirring sounds like a dying cat stuck in a vent every time you start it up. you don't let him tho bc “no cheol the memories :(((“ cuz you've had it for years but he is nearing the end of his tether and who knows. in a few days ur laptop may mysteriously disappear forever and you'll be forced to let him buy a new one

jeonghan

he's like the pet cat you don't own who likes to slink into the room and make inquisitive noises as he watches you work. drapes himself over your shoulders and makes distressed huffs when you try to dislodge him. he's never usually noticeably clingy, but when you try to write, the clinginess always springs out and you can't go five minutes without jeonghan poking his head into the room to check up on you and see what you're up to

joshua

your biggest fan. buys every single novel you write, puts on his glasses, and reads them very seriously in one go on the very evening it's released with the lamp on beside him. he looks so serious every time, but he'll always peer at you over his glasses and then give you a big grin, telling you how much he loves it. gets you to sign a copy for him and brags to everyone he knows that he has your signed novels with special messages just for him that no one else can have

junhui

he's your personal general knowledge bank. when you're searching up obscure things and slowly losing hope on finding an answer, just ask junhui and he'll either a) know the answer or b) knows someone who knows someone else who knows someone else else who knows the answer. don't ask him how to spell words tho bc he's like. hopelessly bad. blinks at you going “what's an [insert word]” before you give up and google it yourself

hoshi

alwaysssss wants to know what you're working on right now. gets all whiny when you get possessive of your work and refuse to show him before it's finished bc come on, it's surely perfect already, why are you trying to hide it from him?? loves helping you do, like, the non writing stuff. writing out plot? nooo. building fantasy maps, figuring out political systems, getting lost on a tangent on figuring out the price of beans in the 1800s? hell yeah sign him up!!!

wonwoo

knows all the grammar rules in the world. you can ask him stuff like “hey wonwoo can i put a comma here or no” and he'll amble over to peer over your shoulder and tell you whether you can or cannot, in fact, put a comma there. helps you curate all your writing playlists for the different moods you have. gently reminds you to get back to writing whenever you end up scrolling on instagram for too long

woozi

you're even more of a workaholic than he is when in the zone, so he gets to realise how unhealthy it is to be sat in front of a computer for hours straight with no break. you get to act as each other's “let's act like a normal human being now” reminders, depending on which of you is going through a work fixation. you guys both go on runs together in the mornings even though it kills you bc at least it gets both of yo brains kickstarted to spend a day being all creative in ur respective fields

minghao

you value his opinion above anyone else's. above your beta reader's, above your agent's, even above your editor's bc those are more like advice, not opinions. but knowing that minghao likes your work, and knowing which parts in particular he really likes, is so important to you because ultimately, you want the person you love to also love the things that you create.

mingyu

brings up the fact that you're a writer in every conversation he has with anyone ever. “oh my god look, this menu has writing on it. speaking of writing, my s/o writes actual books as a job!!!!”. your agent made him sign a contract similar to an NDA bc he just keeps yapping about your books even when they haven't been released yet. loves the noises you make whilst you're writing. thinks it's the cutest thing ever when you make overjoyed “AHA!!” sounds when you finally realise what the plot is doing

dokyeom

more than willing to be your rubber duck and let you talk at him until u figure out your own plot holes. he could be in his room scrolling on his phone but the minute you call for him, he's leaping up and bounding over to you and pulling up a chair in an instant, more than willing to let you bounce ideas off him. sits there doing nothing but looking all pretty as you talk at him and work out the tangle you've gotten yourself into. beams and gives you a big kiss when you manage to figure it all out.

seungkwan

he buys you a biiiig wheely whiteboard and a bunch of coloured board pens to help you plot your novels. when you get stuck, he comes over and stares at the board with his hands on his hips, very gravely considering your dilemma and what would be the best way to get you out of it. you two talk about plot holes like it's the most serious thing in the world and he just nods like a proud father once you both find a solution

vernon

at this point he's like. a professional tea and coffee and biscuits supplier due to the amount of snack runs he does for you. has walked in on you lying face down on the floor during a meltdown one too many times to bat an eye anymore. also great at helping you block out actions during scenes like. he's the perfect doll. lets you maneuver him into the weirdest positions in the world with zero complaints. he just loves helping you however he can, really.

chan

reads through your drafts whilst you're in the middle of writing, accidentally gets hooked and is begging you every day to finish the novel bc he really wants to know what happens next. he's the best at spotting inconsistencies and plot holes in ur writing so before you even send it off to your beta reader, he gets to have his hands on the manuscript to check for any changes needed. also bc he needs to read the ending asap otherwise he'll probably combust.

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @kikohao @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @sea-moon-star @nonononranghaee @isabellah29 @mcu-incorrect @hrts4hanniehae @suraandsugar @pan-de-seungcheol @dokyeomkyeom @melodicrabbit @bananabubble

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konjiang · 5 months ago

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No transmigration au where Airplane started a new story and invited/hired cucumber-bro as his beta reader/editor. The thing was that Airplane was writing under a different name, and SY also used a different name. Both are trying to keep their two accounts separate. Airplane would find out first and use that knowledge to fuck with SY by writing characters that sounded familiar.

For example: "Hongxin was revered as the war hero; dozens of beasts had met their end after crossing paths with him. Anytime someone looked at his face and saw that mole underneath his eyes, they would know who he was and immediately clear his path." However, it also included differences that made SY unable to tell if it was inspired by PIDW or just a generic xianxia character. Instead of having a sister, this character hates his family and slaughters them when they try to sell him to Demons.

Airplane did this shit over and over again until SY finally caught on. SY being SY. He would flip his balls and send Airplane a 20k Word doc complaining about the last chapter of PIDW and make Airplane rewrite the ending for him. Then, they became roommates...

And they were roommates!

#svsss #shang qinghua #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #cumplane #airplane shooting towards the sky #peerless cucumber #Me ignoring my 40 pages of reading to post brainrot #why did i choose this

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punkitt-is-here · 2 years ago

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Read These Frequently Asked Questions Before You Send An Ask!

Patreon | Ko-Fi | Youtube

IF YOU ARE A FUNDRAISER PLEASE BE AWARE I AM ALREADY HELPING WITH CAMPAIGNS AND CANNOT REASONABLY HANDLE ANY MORE. PLEASE DO NOT EXPECT A RESPONSE. MY APOLOGIES!

Heyo! I get a TON of asks each day, so I'm making this post so that folks know what's already been asked so my followers don't have to see the same stuff over and over, haha.

Hi! I'm Punkitt! I'm a game developer, artist, editor, director, and a bunch of other stuff! I'm working on an RPG called Astral Guard, a platformer called Susan Taxpayer, and I have a couple more fun projects in my pocket like Happup and Super Mario Death Row.

Did you know you look like weird al?

YES jesus fucking christ i get told this every day. if u send me a message in my inbox saying i look like weird al im killing you with like wizard spells and shit.

Why do you have so many hats? Do you know you have that many hats?

ye i like hats. :) free tumblr badges for one pea i like one piece and took as many as i could. free.

Where can I find your art/game development/horsecomix?

Great question! Everything I make that's my own and not a reblog is under "my posts", every bit of art I do is under "my art", any game development I do is under "gamedev", you can find all my MLP art under "mlp, my art" or "horsecomix" for the best stuff. I also have an "animations" tag and a "shitposts" tab. I also properly tag all my asks to be asks and write out the asker's name, so if you don't wanna see those just mute the ask tag.

Do you have a Patreon or a Ko-Fi?

I do have a ko-fi here! I also JUST launched a Patreon, which you can find here :)

What do you use for your art?

I use FireAlpaca and Paint.net for misc. effects!

What are you using to make your games?

I use FireAlpaca do make my assets! Astral Guard, Happup, and any other top-down RPG games I make are all made in RPGMaker 2003. Susan Taxpayer is made in SMBX2 Beta 4, a Mario fangame engine with lua support!

Why are you using a 2-decade-plus engine to make games?

It's fun!

Do you have a sideblog or something for your art?

Not right now! What you see is what you get. I do have a sideblog for Astral Guard though, if you want to follow that game specifically! @astral-guard

Can I make an OC based on your work?

ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!! THATS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU DO!!!! I WANNA SEE!!!!

Can I do dubs/redraws of your comics?

As long as you credit me! I get a ton of notifs each day, so if you wanna show me (and PLEASE i so do wanna see fun dubs and redraws!!!) tag me or DM me!

Are you the one who trapped her coworkers in a room and made them listen to TF2 lore?

Can I use your art as a PFP?

Sure! Just credit me somewhere. :D

Yep! Everyone had a blast actually. :]

Did you make that comic where Fluttershy eats the weed brownie/Rainbow Dash has a male living space/someone has a cutie mark that says they'll kill Ronald Reagan?

Yep! That's me.

Where are you in MLP right now?

Currently just finished Season 7! Haven't watched the movie yet.

Have you watched Equestria Girls?

Yep! Thought it was super cute. I watched up to Rainbow Rocks and plan on watching more.

What's your opinion on MLP so far?

I love it! I think it's cute. I really don't agree that there was some sort of huge quality drop after season 2 or whatever.

What do you think of G5?

Not my style! I don't really like either animation types and it just seems like I'm not in the audience anymore. That's totally chill, but it just doesn't grab me!

Have you watched any other MLP stuff from previous generations?

Nope! But I did see a compilation called Minty Being Autistic for Six Minutes Straight that I loved. she's perfect.

Favorite pony?

Don't got one, I love all the Mane Six a LOT, but I'm particularly fond of Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rarity!

Favorite episode/season?

I'm so bad at picking favorites! But any season past Season 1 I have a blast with because I feel like it's just more my style. I don't have a favorite episode, but the most recent one I can remember LOVING is the one where Starlight bottles up her emotions because it was REALLY funny.

Do you like Pony.mov?

Nope! And stop saying my stuff reminds you of it, it's a lil annoying!

Have you watched the Mentally Advanced Series/Friendship is Witchcraft/Other fandom vids?

Probably not! My interaction with the MLP fandom prior to last year was pretty minimal, so I'm making my way through the show first!

What do you think of Fallout: Equestria?

I think it's super weird but really fun because of that. I've never properly read any of it but it's very fascinating to me.

Are you transgender?

Yep! I go by she/her, I'm a trans woman. Have been for many years, but I only recently came out online!

Are you a lesbian?

Nah, I'm bisexual!

Can I commission you?

Yeah! I only have my commissions available on my Ko-Fi at certain times though, so keep an eye out! I usually announce slots being open at least 12 hours beforehand. Slots are usually first come first serve, but we'll see.

Can I use your art as a Discord emote?

Yeah man i'm not scouring every discord on the planet to find stickers of my work. i think it owns if people take my stuff and make it stupid injoke emotes between friends that makes me very happy.

Can I send you an ask inquiring about gender dysphoria?

I feel like this is beyond my capabilities of advice! I'm actually very comfortable with my body and I have been for many years, so I don't know if I can give any good or helpful advice on that front. Apologies, but there are many resources out there where you can ask about those things if you look for them, like Discord channels!

Favorite Color?

I'm a sucker for blue!

Favorite coffee?

Can't drink coffee, my stomach is cringe.

Favorite tea?

I'm lame and can't drink most tea but I love this one orange-flavored tea a lot. I also LOVE ice tea.

Can I say you're horsegender/punkittgender/a little gender goblin void thing?

Well, I can't stop you, but I'm kind of beyond that phase now! I really am a boring ol' plain she/her girl, and I like it that way. It's not much, but it's honest gender.

What's your favorite game series?

Mother, Kingdom Hearts, Mario, and I USED to say Fallout, but I found out I'm really only a big Fallout New Vegas fan.

Favorite game from those?

Mother 3 is one of my fave games of all time! I love KHII, and I'm tied for SMB3 and SMW. Also Fallout New Vegas fucks hard.

Any other favs?

Bug Fables, SLARPG, and TF2!

Favorite Movie?

Everything Everywhere All At Once, no question.

Oh, are you going to college?

Yep! I'm a film/theater major.

Do you have a YouTube channel?

Yeah! Click right here for it, I stream there and upload footage of my games/animations/my film projects + other stuff.

What is that little orange creature I see?

That's bweenop, my little persona that I use when I'm feeling a little scrunkly.

Do you have a ponysona?

Yep! Her name is Star Magnolia, you can search her on the blog to see art of her.

When will Susan Taxpayer/Astral Guard/etc. be out?

No clue! I take things slow, that's just how I am.

How do you work on so many things at once?

I make small, satisfying amounts of progress! I never try to complete one giant thing all at once, I just like doing small bursts of fun stuff. I got ADHD, so I learn to work with it.

Did you know you look like Weird Al?

Im going to run you over with a clown car watch out

WHY do you work on so many things at once?

Fun! I like learning, I like making cool stuff, and I like showing it to people :)

Do you need any help with your projects?

Potentially! I'll probably put out a post asking for help if I need it.

If you could be a horse, would you?

You kidding me? Several ton beasts with the frailty of a sickly Victorian boy; my clumsy ass would never survive.

Are you some sort of...furry?

yeag

Why do you reblog so much?

Brother I LOVE posting. that's just how it is.

Fav music artists?

It changes literally ALL the time but I will recommend ANYTHING by Vylet Pony, its music is incredible and probably the reason I'm a weird niche microcelebrity now.

Why are you like this?

theater kid + having a lot of fun on the internet makes you a bit silly hehe hoo

SUSAN TAXPAYER QUESTIONS

Is it out?

Not yet! But hopefully sometime in the next year. I dunno! I take things at my own pace and keep stuff fun. :)

What are you using to make it?

SMBX2! It's a free fangame engine for Mario episodes, but it's incredibly versatile and has a wonderful community, so I decided to make Susan Taxpayer in it.

Is there a demo?

You betcha! You can find it right here. I'll also probably put it up on my itch.io.

How do I install it?

I made a post here about how to run the SAGE '23 demo!

#FAQ #my posts #punkitt FAQ #announcement

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the960writers · 12 days ago

Note

Do you think it's a good idea to try and get away from Google Docs when it comes to writing? I really can't afford any other fancy program to write my drafts in, and it honestly seems like the easiest - not to mention, most convenient - program to use to share my manuscript with beta readers. I could use advice on this matter because I keep seeing things across the net about it being a bad place to work on writing, but I have no idea what to turn to to make things easy for me and my future beta readers.

This is such a good question. Thank you.

So, a little backstory. Ever since Google removed their motto "do no evil" they have gone down the rather predictable path of all big players of the rot economy: putting profits over user experience.

A little while back, there was rumor that Google trains AI with the content of google docs, then they said they don't really, they only scan the content and do nothing with it, and then they started blocking access to documents with sexy images. Do we believe that Google has our own best interest at heart? That's something everyone has to decide for themselves.

Back then, I made a post with alternatives for Google Docs, you can find it here, also check the reblogs for more options:

Now, is it a good idea to switch from google docs? I think it is, but I'm also not consistent with it. As you mentioned, it seems to be the easiest to share writing with beta readers, and I also still often use it for fanfiction.

But there are alternatives, and they require very little adjustment in the process. Let me give you two free options.

Ellipsus is webbased, meaning you can write in it in the browser on any device. They have sharing, specifically for beta reading, and an export function for AO3.

Reedsy (marketplace around everything self-publishing) has an editor. It is webbased, and they also have an option for sharing with beta readers. This software is aimed at book type-setting and exporting but it works just fine for copying to web.

Personally, I'm currently switching everything to LibreOffice (also free!) files in some cloud connected folder. I used to do a lot of mobile writing on my phone with a bluetooth keyboard but currently, I'm taking my laptop everywhere so LibreOffice works great for me. If I have to use my phone or tablet for some lightweight mobile writing, on vacation for instance, I can still use something webbased.

So, I hope I gave you some interesting options. Do I think it's a good idea to make us less dependent on Google? Yes, I do. I don't trust them.

We have alternatives, and they cost us nothing more than a little adjustment.

~ barbex

#writing software #writing tools #alternatives to google docs #barbex gives advice #ellipsus #reedsy #google docs #libre office

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staylovesmiley · 11 months ago

Text

Going Dumb~ Chapter 7

ᯓᡣ𐭩Pairing; Kim Seungmin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Summary; It had been over a decade since you had last seen each other, having met in choir when Seungmin was living with his grandparents in LA and you with your Aunt. Now that you are both presented adults, how will he handle a change to the reality of you he had made in his mind in your absence over the years?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 Notes; This is an ABO!AU. in this world when someone reaches puberty they will present with one of three sub genders; alpha, beta, or omega. Due to Alphas and Omegas experiencing rut and heat, some jobs are restrictive as to what sub genders they will hire, specifically singling out omegas as heat suppressants are harder to obtain than rut suppressants. Scent glands are located near the pressure points on the neck and small hormonal patches called scent blockers can be placed over them to reduce or rid an individual of their scent for a period of time depending on the strength of the hormones in the patch.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; abo!au, beta!kim seungmin, almost all alpha!straykids, female!reader, poly!pack dynamics, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, smut, enemies to lovers, Kim seungmin is kind of an ass I’m so sorry dandy boy, she/her pronouns used for reader, jealous seungmin, I have only ever wrote one abo story before but it is one of my favorite genres so I hope I can do this justice~

You were correct about your life becoming more chaotic, that was for sure.

In the short month since you had become stray kids assistant you had been going nonstop. Sometimes you would be with them all together, sometimes only one or a few members as they went to solo schedules. You had been with them to interviews, variety shows, behind the scenes when they filmed skz codes and even in some of their skz talker videos briefly.

Typically editors would blur out the staffs faces but the kids had insisted they leave you in as you were already formally introduced and as long as you didn’t mind they thought it was okay with the mostly positive feedback from fans even going as far as to ask to see more of you in the stray kids content as they had come to enjoy seeing how the members interacted with you even though it was usually for only a short moment.

It took some getting used to but over all it was very exciting and you couldn’t help but enjoy it even though you were still a bit shy around the camera.

Whenever they would tease you playfully you’d tease back, bantering with the members lightly and stay were eating it up and enjoying the dynamic between the nine of you.

It helped that you had begun sharing more of the boys, with their permission of course, on your own personal instagram stories that stays had found and were appreciative of getting more content of the group they loved so much.

Now, it was Christmas Day and you were with them at Gayo Daejeon watching them perform from back stage as you were on standby with other staff for when they finished their performance. You stood against the wall just out of view of the audience but able to watch from afar as the kids performed, absolutely mesmerized by their stage presence. Somewhere towards the end of their second song your face fell as you heard the audio begin to play for another groups song overtop of their own.

The boys looked a mix of furious and confused but it seemed to only fuel them harder as the next song had such an intense energy you didn’t notice a presence next to you that seemed to demand your attention. Your eyes were locked on your boys, as you had affectionately come to know them, until you heard the person beside you clear their throat making you jump as they startled you.

Turning to address whoever it was staring you down so intensely at your side you were met with an individual you had seen interacting countless times with the boys backstage at events earlier in the month. “Oh! Uh, Hi- can I help you?”

The alpha smirked, leaning against the wall beside you. “Maybe- you’re stray kids assistant, yeah? I’ve seen you around them a lot lately.” The tall man gives you a look up and down that causes a light pink to dust your cheeks as you feel yourself fluster easily under his gaze. “That I am. you can call me-“

“Bunny!” You flinch a bit at the loud sound, and suddenly you feel arms wrap around you from behind.

Minho rested his chin on your shoulder, looking at the taller alpha with a smirk as the other looked a bit thrown off and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck as he moved to stand up straight once again as opposed to the relaxed demeanor he held leaning against the wall. “Leeknow hyung, hi! You guys performance was incredible as always.”

The alpha currently draping himself over you put on a friendly smile and nodded to the other. “Thank you, Yunho. It’s nice to see you again. I see you were getting acquainted with our bunny here.” The taller alpha, Yunho, nodded bashfully as his face heated up. “Yeah I wanted to come and introduce myself on behalf of the rest of Ateez. I’m sure we’ll see more of each other around so it seemed polite to say hi-“

Something told you there was more to his motives for coming to speak with you but his soft puppy like demeanor now caused you to take his word and offer out your hand to him with a bright smile. “Thank you, it’s nice to meet you.” You could feel the arms around you tense slightly as you shook Yunho’s hand, the other blushing even deeper. “Pleasure is all mine, really. Well- I should get going but it was nice to see you again hyung, and nice to meet you Bunny.” And with that he left to rejoin his group where you could see several members teasing him for the interaction they had evidently been watching from afar.

A soft growl rumbling behind you caught your attention and caused you to swat at the alphas hands lightly. “Quit that, he’s your friend. Why are you acting like that?” As he pulled away and saw the frown of disappointment on your face Minho whined, the other members coming up now from where they finished getting their mic packs off and Chan gave the second eldest a look that showed he wasn’t too pleased either. “You shouldn’t have run off like that, Minho. Staff was trying to get your pack off and you completely ignored them. Go back over there so they can help get it off properly.”

At the light scolding from their leader, the alpha whined even more and left with a huff. You sighed, shaking your head as Han followed off after the older alpha and Seungmin came up to your side. “What was all that about…” You huffed, looking to the others with confusion. “I thought you guys were friends with them, why did Min look like he wanted to bite that guys head off?”

The beta scoffed, rolling his eyes as he took the bottle of water you held out to him. “You seriously are so oblivious right? Yunho hyung is clearly interested in you.” Your hands froze where they were now passing a bottle of water to Hyunjin and you most likely would have dropped it if it wasn’t for the alpha grabbing it first. “What?”

Hyunjin laughed, shaking his freshly dyed garnet red hair out of his eyes as he opened his bottle and took a sip. “Oh bunny, you can’t be that oblivious. He was totally eye fucking you.” You looked back over to where ateez were standing and felt your cheeks heat up as you saw the alpha was in fact still watching you from across the room. “Oh- yeah I guess I really didn’t notice…”

That statement caused the beta beside you to relax and take a swig from his water. He looked over his shoulder at where the other puppy idol still watched over you with a longing that set him a bit on edge. Instinctively he wrapped an arm around your waist causing you to look up at him with a soft smile.

The two of you had grown closer, so much so that now those feelings of friendship you had when you were younger didn’t feel so much like a scam. There were many times since becoming their assistant and moving into the dorm full time with the pack that the beta would seek you out for company. You would sit in his or Felix room with them while they gamed, laying on the bed scrolling on your phone as you listened to their loud banter or shouts of victory.

Sometimes if he came back from a particularly difficult lesson or long schedule and was in search of comfort he would lay with his head in your lap on the couch and let you card your fingers through his hair gently as the tv volume was set low as to not cause further damage to his aching head and you would pump out more of your scent to soothe him until he fell asleep like that until someone called for dinner or you gently shook him awake and lead him to his room so he could return to his slumber.

A soft blush covered his cheeks and he looked away though his arm around your waist tightened. You giggled lightly at his shyness and poked his side before handing the last water bottles to Minho and Han as they finally rejoined the group. He took in the sight of the two of you before a teasing smile crossed his features and he gave you a wink along with whispers of thanks for the water.

You nodded, fiddling with the straps of the harnesses Seungmin wore before being lead by the beta towards their area backstage so they could rest before going back out for the rest of the show.

Seungmin managed to get you sat beside him on one of the chairs there, he leaned his head on your shoulder and brought your hand up to place them on his head. You laughed a bit and shook your head, moving your hands and giving his knee a gentle pat. “Sorry Minnie, no pets right now.” You teased, watching a pout form on his lips. “Later- yeah? Can’t mess your hair up when you still have to go back out there.”

Relenting, the beta nodded in understanding yet he kept leaning against you while everyone else relaxed or left to mingle with other idols in the halls.

The rest of the evening went by without issue, though you could still feel Yunho’s gaze on you anytime you happened to cross paths with the other pack. It seemed to keep the boys on edge as not only Minho and Seungmin began clinging to you without a care who was around to see or what cameras were there to pic up their behavior.

At one point you swore you saw Chan off to the side talking with the leader of Ateez Hongjoong, just before he approached the tall dancer and hit the back of his head lightly before scolding him under his breath. The alpha leaders seemed to have a lot in common and it made you giggle lightly as Chan rejoined you at your side and followed where you we’re looking to his fellow leader now getting onto another member, Wooyoung, for teasing Yunho for being scolded by their pack alpha.

You gave the oldest a look, eyebrow raised before he shook his head dismissing any unanswered questions. “Let’s get ready to go home, yeah? It’s been a long day and we still have more schedules coming up.” You nodded in agreement, helping him gather the rest of the pack along with everyone’s belongings and into the cars to take everyone back to the dorms.

The next month was no different than that previous. You were always by their side to help with whatever they needed even if it was something simple like grabbing them a snack during long photoshoots or taking pictures of them before or after a performance for them to post to Instagram or bubble later on.

As January turned to February and they were set to travel once more for a few set schedules, you were all thrown off when the day before you were set to depart Jisung woke up with body aches and cold symptoms starting to show.

“Hannie please try and eat something, yeah? I know you don’t have much appetite right now but it’ll get your energy up.” You tried to reason with the alpha, sitting beside him on the floor in front of the tv. There was a bowl of broth sitting on the coffee table in front of him and one of his favorite dramas on the screen while you held the spoon up in an attempt to get him to eat something so you could give him the medicine prescribed by his doctor earlier that morning when you and Chan had brought him for a check up.

The alpha whined but eventually gave in, eating about half of the bowl before the leader came in to pull you away for a small meeting. You made Han promise to finish the bowl and drink some of his water bottle before you returned to give him his medicine since the instructions said to take on a full stomach.

Sat in Chan’s room you felt a sense of deja vu to the time months ago when you were first asked to be their assistant. “I want you to stay here with Han and make sure he’s taken care of while we go ahead with the schedules.” Chan spoke softly, but his tone was stern. You nodded your head, knowing he and the others wouldn’t be leaving without the two of you if it wasn’t necessary, especially not without Jisung.

“Yeah- I don’t trust him to take his medicine on his own if I’m honest.” You said lightheartedly as you looked behind you at the door as if you could see through it and into the living room where the sick alpha still sat waiting for you to return.

Bangchan nodded with a smile, pulling you in for a hug once you stood from your spot on his bed. “Thank you. I honestly don’t know what we would do without you at this point- you…you’re one of us now.” The words caused your chest to tighten but you didn’t allow yourself to think too deeply into his statement as you nodded and hid your face in his strong chest. “I should be thanking you for helping me so much…with everything.”

Dismissing your thanks he gave the top of your head a quick kiss before shooing you out of the room. “I’m gonna go wrangle up the kids and get them out of here before anyone can catch what Hanji has- we’ll stay in a hotel tonight before flying out tomorrow.”

Laughing, you made your way to leave before he stopped you once more. “Oh and you two will be alone for a while…we all have some free time after our schedules so I’m gonna be going home to see my family and I think everyone else has plans as well.” You nodded in understanding, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll hold down the fort and make sure Han gets better, you can count on me.”

Upon hearing the news of Jisung’s illness as well as both of your absence from the upcoming trip the rest of the members were in different levels of sulking though undoubtedly the most distressed by the lack of your presence was Seungmin and Minho as they worried about not only their members health but how that could affect you while taking care of him.

Oh how right they were to worry.

It had been a little over two weeks when the three youngest members returned to the dorm, pushing the door open and all scrambling in with suitcases in hand. “Hannie!! Bunny!!! We’re hooommmee~~” Felix called out with a giggle as he set his bags down and began searching around for the pair.

Over the course of the last week no one had been able to get a hold of either you or Jisung and it had worried Bangchan enough to ask that whoever arrived home first give him an update, hoping that you hadn’t caught whatever bug it was that Han had.

As Seungmin entered the dorm he couldn’t tell what it was at first but something felt off. The beta began taking off his coat and as he went to hang it up it hit him, looking at where their youngest alpha’s eyes were starting to dilate rapidly while he sniffed at the air. At Jeongin’s reaction the beta also began sniffing at the air, his eyes widening at the intense aroma of freshly ground coffee and candied orange peels filled his senses. “Felix, Jeongin- we have to go.”

The alphas both let out a low growl but Seungmin didn’t seem to care as he began shoving the both of them out the front door while pulling out his phone to make a frantic call to their leader. He almost lost his balance when a loud moan that sounded eerily like you cane from the direction of Jisung’s room and caused the two alphas to almost trample over him to get to the sound.

“Seung? Hello?” Chan’s voice over the phone seemed to snap the two alphas out of whatever spell they seemed to be under if only for a second and Seungmin was quick to push them out into the hall in front of their dorm and slam the door shut before locking the three of them out. “Yeah, Hyung- we have a problem…like- a big problem.” He ignored the pang in his chest as what was happening deep within the form settled into his mind causing an ugly green monster called jealousy to begin crawling its way out from deep inside him.

“A problem how?” The alpha on the other end sounded calm but the three youngest members could tell he was concerned. It was Felix who spoke up as Seungmin continued to push them away from the front door and down to the garage so they could be as far from the scent and sounds coming from the two of you as possible. “Bunny’s in heat.”

It was a few hours later and everyone was gathered at the company in their practice room, some members sat on the couch or on the floor with their backs pressed up against it while listening to Seungmin explain what had happened when they returned home.

Chan started to beat himself up mentally, if only he had been there or had called to check up more while they were all away maybe he would have caught it before and they could have separated you and Jisung before any of this had happened. Minho also seemed to be taking things hard, sitting silently as he rapidly sent text message after text message to both of you in hopes that the younger pack mates were wrong and misunderstood something.

Still, neither you nor Han answered any texts or calls from any of the pack members.

Seungmin was beside himself, choosing to sit with distance between him and the others after he was done explaining what had happened. He felt nauseous, unable to forget the combined smell of the two of you or the sounds of pleasure that rang throughout the dorm as they left. He was also unable to forget how they made his chest clench and his stomach drop, how every fiber of his being screamed for him to barge in and take you for himself and he hated that.

He wasn’t sure where those thoughts or feelings were coming from and it made him sick, hugging his knees to his chest as he curled in on him and shook his head to try and rid himself of the imaginary plaguing him.

Chan’s eyes were on him, silently asking if he was okay and when the younger caught his gaze he shook his head dismissively and gave a weak smile.

The leader sighed, running a hand through his hair as he began pacing. “Okay- so none of us can go back to the dorm for now. It’s unfortunate and I wish we could go in and get Han out as well but it’s probably too late now based on what the maknaes witnessed.” Felix and Jeongin let out whines of embarrassment, not wanting their feral states to be mentioned again.

Just as everyone was trying to come up with a game plan as to what to do with the situation at hand Minho’s phone began ringing and everyone’s attention was suddenly on the buzzing device in the second oldest’s hands. His eyes widened when he recognized Han’s contact name on the screen and frantically he answered, almost dropping the device in his haste. “Han-ah oh thank god we have been worried sick- the maknaes got home early and they said it smelled like an omega in heat and-“ the older alpha was cut off by the younger’s embarrassed chuckles. “Yeah Hyung- about that…”

Silence fell over the room as everyone stared at the phone now placed on speaker. Minho took a deep breath before answering again. “What about that, Han Jisung?” He all but growled, suddenly feeling a sense of protectiveness wash over him. “What happened?”

Suddenly your voice came over the phone, a little hoarse and laced with exhaustion but still loud enough for everyone to hear. “It should be safe for you to come back….pretty sure it’s over now.” There was small traces of embarrassment in your tone but Seungmin shot up at the sound of your voice. “Bunny are you okay?” He called out to you a little panicked before he could think to calm down before he spoke.

You giggled a little at how frantic he sounded, mind still a bit clouded and not fully understanding the weight of the situation in that moment, or not having the energy to be able to care whichever it was. “We’ll um…we’ll explain when everyone is here, yeah? Gotta clean up now if you guys are coming back-“

Everyone just stared at the phone at that before Chan cleared his throat and spoke up. “We will be back in thirty minutes with food, and you have a lot of explaining to do. Open the windows too, will you? Last thing we need is to all walk into a dorm hotboxed with omega heat pheromones.”

Both you and Han spoke words of understanding and quickly hung up to get started cleaning up each other and the dorm for everyone’s arrival back.

Just as Chan had said they arrived back at the dorm about a half hour later with take out in hand to see the two of you sat on the couch so close that your thighs were touching. Han was dressed in a pair of sweats and a loose fitting tshirt while you were wearing a pair of shorts and one of the alpha’s large hoodies, both of your hair was slightly damp showing that you had both showered and there was a slight chill in the air from where the both of you had opened all the windows in an attempt to air out your combined scent from the apartment to not set one of the other alphas off.

The food was sat on the coffee table and the leader gave everyone a look to stave off any questions until after everyone had eaten but especially the two of you. Knowing how heats could be and how none of you were expecting it there was no telling when the last time you had a full meal was in the two weeks they were gone.

It wasn’t until the food was finished and left over put away that Chan set the two of you with a look that told you it was time to spill the details of what exactly happened while the pack was away. “Okay, so you’re mad-“ Han spoke anxiously and you instinctively intertwined your fingers with his and pushed out your scent to calm him down.

“It wasn’t Han’s fault, Chan. Please just hear me out first.” The alpha leader raised an eyebrow at you curiously. “Okay, go on then.” He motioned for you to continue and you took a deep breath. “It started almost a week into you guys all being gone-“

It was late, and you were snuggled up on the couch with the alpha watching whatever drama he was currently invested in as you played with his new fluffy curls absentmindedly. His fever seemed to have broken the day prior and besides a mild stuffy nose his symptoms had disappeared over night.

Still a bit lethargic, you agreed to yet another cuddle session as the two of you had become accustomed to over the course of his cold. It was something you used as a reward to get the alpha to keep up with taking his medicine, and you’re sure it was what helped him recover so quickly.

The smell of fresh coffee grounds had long since seeped into your skin as did the scent of orange blossoms into his own, and as he drifted in and out of sleep laying against your chest on the couch he found himself nuzzling against your body with a little groan as there was still a slight ache in his bones. “Hanji? Feeling okay?” You spoke softly, still carding your fingers through soft brown curls.

Han nodded shortly, wiggling a bit to get more comfortable against you and you let out a laugh. “Careful there you almost elbowed me in the ribcage, Ji.” He looked up with wide, apologetic eyes and you simply gave a kiss to the top of his head as an acceptance of his silent apology.

The days spent alone with him were mostly blissful, besides the few times you had to fight him to eat so he could take his medicine, or struggling to get him into the shower when his fever was too strong and you needed to cool him down under the icy spray clad in nothing but his boxers.

You had grown closer to the alpha and had a way of understanding each other that you didn’t have with the others, even Seungmin or Minho. The timer on your phone went off, signaling it time for his next round of medicine. “Come on, Hanji time to let me up.”

With a pout, he reluctantly moved to let you up. The alpha watched as you got up and made your way to the kitchen to get his medicine and a snack to take it with. Opting to make him some toast with nutella, one of the only things you had been able to get him to stomach, you placed two sliced of bread into the toaster and reached up into the cabinet for the chocolate spread.

As you reached up your back arched slightly and the sight caused something to stir in the alpha, mouth watering slightly and head beginning to cloud over. “Bun-“ he said softly, barely audible so you couldn’t hear him over the soft sounds of the tv and the toaster popping up. You continued on, making his snack before you began pouring the medicine into the little cup provided.

You hadn’t been paying attention, not realizing that the alpha had gotten up and crossed the room, arms caging you in against the counter. You felt his presence and slowly turned around to face him, toast and medicine forgotten on the counter behind you. “Hannie?” His pupils were blown, normally soft brown eyes almost black as he stared down at you with a low growl rumbling in his chest. “You smell so sweet…” he said, leaning down to nose at your scent gland causing you to gasp. “Han Jisung- are you…oh god you’re in-“

With both hands placed flat against his chest you pushed him back, taking him by surprise and causing him to stumble back and come to his senses slightly. “Fuck, I’m sorry Bunny- I need to go.” He stuttered out, moving frantically to his room and slamming the door behind him.

You were left standing in the kitchen, blinking at the space he once stood as you tried to think of what to do. You couldn’t hear anything but the sound of the tv still playing the show you were both watching, but the scent of roast coffee began to fill the dorm so heavily you almost felt dizzy.

While you could still think clearly, you made your way to his room and knocked on the door loud enough you’re sure he could hear. “Go away-“ came the rapper’s voice from deep in the room. “Han, please let me in….I-“ you took a deep breath, nodding to yourself that this was something you wanted to do. “I can help you, if you want…”

Time seemed to pass in slow motion as you waited for a response. After a while you felt the door move slightly as if someone were leaning all of their weight against it from the opposite side. “A-Are you sure? That’s….I wouldn’t ask that much of you if you weren’t sure-“ A soft smile fell on your face as the fondness you felt for the alpha rapper warmed your heart and you nodded until you realized he couldn’t see you. “Yes, I’m sure. Let me in, please?”

Without hesitation, the door opened and you were pulled inside with a little yelp of surprise that soon turned into a low moan as you felt Jisung’s lips against your own.

“It didn’t take long for him to trigger my heat once we uh- got started….” The pack all stated at you with varying levels of shock or amusement, though Chan held a blank stare at the two of you as he was deep in thought.

Hyunjin was the one who spoke up next, head tilted to the side as he observed you. “Must’ve been some rut to trigger your heat through your suppressants.”

You looked down at your lap, mumbling something that caused the leader to speak up. “Sorry, don’t think I quite caught that.”

“I haven’t been able to get suppressants since I moved here but I didn’t want to worry you guys with that-“

The leader let out a deep sigh and shook his head, eyes closed tight before looking to where you and Han still sat side by side on the couch. “You should have called me.” You let out a little scoff, turning away from him. “I hate to break it to you, Christopher, but we are grown adults.”

Chan glared, stepping closer as you stood from your spot and met him halfway. “I’m the leader and it’s my job to keep you both safe. What if something went wrong and no one else was here, hm? You weren’t thinking.” You shot him a glare of your own, not believing he was acting like this. “Packs help each other with ruts and heats all the time, it’s not that big of a deal.”

The leader growled, anger bubbling in his chest as he stood impossibly close and you swore his eyes shown red instead of their normal brown. “Yeah well you aren’t pack, are you?” His words stung, causing you to deflate visibly and take a step away from the alpha.

Immediately he regretted his words, his mind scrambling for a way to take them back. “Oh.” Was all you said, the smell of rotten citrus permeating the area and causing Minho to come to your side from where he had been sitting on the other side of the room. “Chan didn’t mean that, Bunny. He’s just upset- right, hyung?” Before the oldest could answer you were shaking your head and backing away towards your room. “No, he’s right. I’m not- I’m not part of your pack.” And with that you retreated into the room and locked yourself inside.

Now it was Han’s turn to get defensive, rising from the couch and stepping up to the leader. “What the actual fuck, Chan?! You always preach at us to keep our temper under control and then you go and pull a stunt like that?” A low growl erupted from the younger alpha’s chest as he gestured wildly. “I get it, we fucked up- there was a better way we could have gone about things but that’s over and done with now but you just have to go and make it all worse huh? Geez give her a fucking break, give us a break! It’s not like we planned this!”

With a glare thrown the leader’s way, Han began storming off after you. Minho went to follow and the younger simply shook his head. “Not now, Min.” With a gentle knock on the door it opened just enough for the alpha to enter before shutting again and the sound of the lock clicking back into place could be heard.

author’s note: well- that happened hehe UUMM pls don’t hate me?? This fic is still Seungmin x Reader I promise but like I said about the last chapter maybe possibly this is starting to become 2Minsung x reader?? Idk if I should change the header or the info or anything up top but I will be adding those tags to future chapters because it’s only gonna get worse (or better lol) from here~ as always I live for feedback pls pls pls let me know your thoughts especially because I have two ways this story can go from here and I’m not 100% sold on either so your feedback on this chapter will help me decide which way I wanna go with this~~

taglist; (pink users I was unable to tag) @coastinglove @skzswife @maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @doitforbangchan @chartrucewhore @sebastianswhore13 @finnydraws @bahablastplz @0325tiny

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daisywords · 2 years ago

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I personally know there are multiple types of editing but I've never seen anyone explain it in a way that actually made me understand what the types of editing actually were (yeah cool that you say {}editing is different from []editing but *how*). So if you wanna explain, feel free to.

Your handy-dandy guide to different types of editing

disclaimer: writers, you can literally edit however works for you. these distinction can be useful to your process, or just if you're looking to hire an editor. Not all editors make distinctions in this way; there are various ways of dividing. But no matter what vocabulary you use, it's best practice to start with broad, big-picture stuff and move towards narrower issues. Some editors do all levels of editing, while some specialize.

Developmental Editing (Is it a good story?)

Developmental editing has to do with the content. For a novel, that means working on the bones of the story. The plot. The pacing. The characters. Do their motivations make sense? Can the reader understand why things are happening? Does the story drag in places, or seem to brush past important elements? Do all of the subplots get resolved? etc. etc. (At this stage an editor is mostly going to be offering suggestions, pointing out issues, and throwing out potential solutions. Beta readers can also be very helpful at this stage to get a reader's perspective on the story beats and characters.)

Line Editing (is it well written?)

Sometimes called substantive editing, line editing is zooming in a little bit more to focus on scenes, paragraphs and sentences. Once we've decided that a scene is going to stay, lets look at the mechanics of how it plays out. Does the scene start to early or too late? Does the writing style communicate the emotions we want the reader to feel? Does the dialogue match the characters' voices? do any of the sentences sound awkward or ugly? Is the movement being bogged down by too much purple prose anywhere, or is there not enough detail? (This can get pretty subjective, so it's important that the writer and the editor are on the same page with taste, style goals, etc.)

Copy Editing (is is correct?)

Copy editing is all about the details. Think grammar and punctuation. Do the sentences make sense? are they grammatically correct? Is the dialogue punctuated correctly? Any misspellings? Should this be hyphenated? Should this be capitalized? Should we use a numeral, or write out the number? etc etc. A significant part of copy editing is matching everything to a style manual (like Chicago or AP) a house style guide (individualized preferences from a publisher, for example), and a project's own internal style sheet (are the character's names spelled the same every time? if we used "leaped" in chapter 4, we shouldn't use "leapt" in chapter 7) Copy editing is still subjective, but less so than the earlier levels, so a copyeditor will be more likely to just go in and make a bunch of (tracked!) changes without consulting the author for everything.

Bonus: Proofreading (did the copyeditor catch everything? are there typos? formatting issues? have any errors been introduced?)

Lots of people say editing when they really mean proofreading. Proofreading is the absolute last thing to get done. It's the one last pass just before something is published. It's important, but as you can see, there's a whole lot more to editing than just checking for typos.

#editing #writeblr #editing process #writing process #editors or writers who have worked with editors feel free to chime in! we are not a monolith lol this is just they way I've learned

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animelovelover123 · 3 months ago

Note

I was thinking a Yandere Reboot Dante who's obsessed with bartender reader! She works at a strip club he visits. They've become friendly with each other, but she rejects his advances. He tries to make her jealous, but it doesn't work. To which he kidnaps her and takes her back to his place/van to which the non con pursues.

I know his van was canonically destroyed, but the scene where his van was shaking from having sex, made me feral!! Thanks for letting me send this! Let me know if this is too long, I will shorten the idea! 🥹😈

What a devilishly dirty idea (　・`ω・´). Here you go; I hope I didn't destroy it by condensing it so much. Also, I should warn you that my editor is not comfortable with some things, including non-con, and I respect their feelings so this story was not beta read. I'm sorry in advance for the mistakes.

Yandere Reboot Dante X Reader - Incorrigible For Devil's Dalliance’s Angel

Disclaimer: This fictional story contains mature subject matter that is written with the intent to be appealing and/or arousing. If you are reading this, please understand that drawing/writing/reading/imagining things of this nature does NOT equate to desiring or supporting real-world assault. Here is a link to multiple articles and studies on sexual taboos in fantasy, what role it plays, and what effect it has on people.

Trigger Warnings: rape, stalking, kidnapping, degrading comments towards others (not reader), somnophilia, bound wrists

Yet again, for the 4th night in a row, Dante found himself at Devil's Dalliance. He would have been there every night, but you only work 5 days a week. He didn’t bother with the dancefloor where the strippers were twirling around poles. He took an immediate left turn to get to the bar along the left wall where you were.

“Hey angel!” He called out to you, using that nickname since the strippers that worked here were dressed as them, but you were the only one worthy of the actual title. He went to sit down but before his ass hit the stool his usual order came sliding across the bar. He caught it with ease, then looked over at you as you gave him a smile and a hand motion before turning to deal with someone else.

God damn, you were perfect. You knew him so well. And you had that sexy smile and how you swayed your hips as you moved contrasting the cheap wings that were part of your work uniform made you look cute, innocent, and corruptible. If only you would come closer. You two got along well and have spent collective hours in the past chatting between customers. Today, though, it was busy with chicks with far too much confidence considering how much makeup and injections they have to have to make them look decent and sleezy douchebags already shitfaced and shooting their shots with anything with tits. Fuck'em. Fuck them all. They were wasting your time, time that should be spent with Dante. Yet they had you rushing around as they barked orders at you and caused problems. It was enough to make Dante slam his glass down onto the counter after chugging it in frustration.

When he did, another glass came sliding into his view. He looked up and there you were again, giving him that smile and showing him that you were still paying some attention to him. Jesus Christ, he wanted to bend you over the fucking bar.

But there you go, not saying a word to him, just going back to work like you didn’t feel the connection between you, like you weren’t as desperate for his attention as he was for yours. Sure, you had rejected him when he had offered to take you to his place every other night, but that was different. You were just tired, thought he was joking, and didn’t know what he could do yet. You didn’t know how he could rail you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next morning. How he could go for hours, leaving you a blithering mess as he licks up his cum spilling out of your pussy while the sun rises. How he can make your body learn that no other cock or dildo can satisfy you. You needed a showcase, a demonstration of what he can do and something to light a fire under that pretty ass of yours, revealing how you can’t stand to see him with some other chick.

And so, Dante grabbed his drink and made his way to the dance floor.

“Dante, hey!”

Well that didn’t take long. He was barely on the flashing floor before some bimbo ran up to wrap her arms around one of his.

“Hey babe, how’ve you been doing?” He asked, assuming by her greeting that they knew each other. Maybe he has fucked her before, he wouldn’t remember and definitely wouldn’t care to. Right now though, they could help each other.

“It’s been lonely working all week without being able to see you.” The way she squeezed her boobs against his arms and looked up at him through those fake ass lashes made it clear that she wanted some action, and he wanted to show off his moves, so they would both get something out of this.

“Well now you’ve got my attention, so enjoy it.” Dante flashed that grin that made girls weak in the knees, and it had the same effect. “Come on babe, follow me.” He gave her a wink and wrapped an arm around her waist to lead her back towards the bar where you worked. There was a small chunk of wall beside where people can get behind the bar, that would be good enough.

In one swift, fluid movement, Dante pushed the woman up against the wall. She let out a squeak in shock but couldn’t say anything as he slammed his lips into hers. She moaned, squirmed, and opened her mouth for him. Perfect, he already had her falling apart for him. Were you watching? Did you see what could be yours?

But you weren’t, you were talking to some fat fuck while making his drink. Out of frustration, Dante placed his drink on the counter beside them and purposely pushed it off. The shattering sound made everyone but Dante jump in shock. Even the chick he had pinned to the wall let out a scream and pulled back. She tried to move away, but Dante wouldn’t let her, keeping her pinned there so you could see. Finally, you looked his way, and here you come! You can see, right? How he got this girl wet just from making out a bit? You want this, right?

You came over, grabbed a broom nearby, swept up the glass, offered another smile, then just walked away!?

“Fuck.” Dante snarled as he stepped back.

“Wait, Dante,” The woman said as she tried to follow, but Dante smacked her hand away.

“Not in the mood, fuck off.” Dante could hear the woman calling him and eventually cursing but he did not give a shit. He was pissed off beyond belief. How could you not care, not even blink an eye? Fuck, he wanted to hit something.

Before he could find a dumbass to be his stress ball, he noticed you leaving the bar. Like a predator stalking prey, Dante followed you with his eyes until you disappeared into the back rooms of the club. Seeing you disappear from sight made his anger worse. How dare you just leave. How dare you leave his side.

“Not anymore.” Dante stormed after you, following fleeting glimpses of you further into the building and up some stairs until finally you reached your destination. It looked like some break room, with a couch and fridge and microwave, basic shit that barely registered in Dante’s mind. His eyes, his thoughts, his heart was focused on you. How you turned to greet whoever joined you in the break room, how you froze when you realized it wasn’t a co-worker, that confused smile at recognizing him but knowing that he shouldn’t be there, and how it fell away as he stalked closer.

The sound of the music blared through the building and spilled out into the streets, making it so that no one heard the sound of a struggle in the breakroom. The sound of screaming, furniture being toppled, then silence. And with how drunk, and for some also high, they were, no one even noticed the young man jumping from the second story of the club and over roofs with an unconscious woman over his shoulder.

×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×

Dante laid you down on his creaky, dirty bed, one that was not visually worthy of you, even with the trickles of blood dried on your head and face that blended in with his red pillowcases and sheets. That made it all the hotter. Seeing you lying there, seemingly sleeping peacefully with that perfect face and body, white wings popping out from behind your back, while surrounded by his filth. The two things were juxtaposed, and he wanted to keep it like that. He was scum, dirty, maybe not even human. But you, in comparison, were pure. Despite where you worked you weren’t some cheeks slut, you held your head high, stood your ground, and kept your tongue sharp. Yet you were still kind to him, treated him like a person, not a problem or something to fuck. You were…

“My angel,” Dante whispered as he crawled over you on the bed. He leaned down, bringing your lips close enough to just barely touch and ran his hands up your sides. He held there for a moment, taking in the sensations. Your warmth, your heartbeat, your breath, before finally capturing your lips, and something in him broke. After you had been rejecting him for weeks, now he had you; you were here, and he could give you everything. He could take everything.

The sound of his belt unclasping seemed to ring through the trailer despite his heavy breaths and his hips grinding down into you, making the bed creak. He couldn’t tear his lips away from your skin so fumbled a bit with his hands when he lifted your arms and, using his belt, bound your wrists to the clasped hands of the heavy as hell metal and neon light encircled angel statue behind his bed. A fitting shackle in his mind. Gagging you popped into his head for only a second, but he pushed it aside. It was late at night and everyone who knew him would be used to screams of ecstasy coming from his trailer late into the night. Plus, he NEEDED to be able to kiss you.

×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×+×

When your consciousness came back to you, the first things you are aware of are the soreness in your jaw, a salty taste in your mouth, and the feeling of something opening up your folds, subjecting that hot skin to the cool night air. And when something warm and wet slid between them, your body instinctively reacted.

Dante’s heart jumped and a spike of arousal hit him when you finally properly reacted to his touch. He lifts his head from your crotch, the taste of your pussy still fresh on his tongue.

“You’re awake.” Dante crawled back up the bed to hover over you, though one hand stayed low to cup your sex, sliding his fingers between your lower lips to gather slick. Before you could speak, he slammed his lips against yours, his tongue ravaging your mouth, tasting the mix of you and the residuals of his essence. He could feel you squirm, but it was no use. You couldn’t escape your bindings or him. And besides, he wanted you to squirm a bit. It made your body rub against his, your tits jiggle freely since he had removed your top and bra to suck on them, and your heart beat faster. It made you feel alive. When Dante finally pulled back, his lungs dragging air in slowly like he was drowning as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust and something inhuman. “You made me wait a while, angel, but I suppose that's my fault. Either way, now that you're awake, I don’t need to hold back anymore.” The two fingers he was using to spread the slick around your folds were suddenly impaled you, burrowing themselves in your core. “I wanted to make sure you were awake when I finally fuck you.”

『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』

This was a bit hard for me because the one thing that takes me out of reader stories the most is when the author decides what I say and what I do, so I try to avoid it. That was hard with this but I did my best. ^^;

#devil may cry imagine #devil may cry x reader #devil may cry #reboot dante x reader #dante dmc #reboot dante #yandere dante #yandere reboot dante #male yandere #female reader #x reader

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havvkinsqueen · 2 years ago

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---☁︎｡⋆｡ Yawning and stretching out, she made the executive decision to work out early and take a nap later. Chrissy wanted to relax, but she also wanted to talk with Eddie. She didn't have a lot of moments with him, as he didn't live in Chicago, either. But bless him, he was good about coming to visit her when he could. It was unlike any relationship she'd ever have. Not just the fact he was famous and she was a nobody, but also the adult aspect. Grown up relationship. And she couldn't share it with anyone. It was lonely at times.

[ SMS ; Eddifer ] It's okay. I promise. [ SMS ; Eddifer ] Well, aren't you sweet? Good afternoon!

--- Chrissy rolled over, hugging her bunny plush tight as she waited for another text from Eddie. She would never be prepared for this. Long distance. It was a lot of face times, calls, texts, visiting each other. In theory it was fun. In practice? A little different than what she would have thought. Maybe it would be easier if she wasn't some sort of secret. However, any time together was precious; Even text messages.

[ SMS ; Eddifer ] It was for the most part. Rained so lots of that ambiance for me to conk out to. [ SMS ; Eddifer ] Where are you today?

havvkinsqueen:

They had agreed to take it slow, with him hoping it would make things easier. To sort of... figure out, adjust to. Thus far, it was working, right? Well. Waking her up in the wee hours of the morning was not ideal, but. Damn. He was willing to what he could to make it work, but asking her to sacrifice hours of sleep. That wasn’t exactly fair. Even if she was willing. It was also a bit... needy, wasn’t it? Making a mental note of that (and an actual one in which he plotted a way to make it up to her) he let out a fond sigh before shooting off his reply.

[SMS] You are - I won’t dispute that. I won’t keep you up long.

[SMS] I just wanted to say ‘good morning!’ when it was still morning for you.

Eddie’s band was in Europe at the moment, and thus Eddie was eight or so hours ahead of her. While it was only 5 for her, he had only just finished lunch and wasn’t likely to have a moment alone until later that evening. Well, evening for him. Afternoon for her. He really was lucky, wasn’t he? That she was inclined to date him at all - but especially considering the lifestyle, the fact he woke her up just to say ‘hi’. He was sure she appreciated the sentiment, just not the loss of sleep. Perhaps it had sweet, but also misguided.

[SMS] So. Good morning! Sleep well, til I interrupted?

#friday night and everyone’s moving */ PARA #vitaegratis */#eddie munson */ HELLFIRE #lost in reality */ MODERN #place in me */ ROCKSTAR #// THIS WAS MADE WITH BETA EDITOR. USE BETA EDITOR TO REPLY.

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physalian · 11 months ago

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“How do I know if my story needs work or if I’m just being hard on myself?”

As I sit here accepting the fact that at 70k words into Eternal Night’s sequel while waiting for my editor for Eternal Night itself, that I have made an error in my plot.

Disclaimer: This is not universal and the writing experience is incredibly diverse. Figuring this out also takes some time and building up your self-confidence as an author so you can learn to separate “this is awful (when it’s not)” and “this is ok (but it can be better)” and “this isn’t working (but it is salvageable).”

—

When I wrote my first novel (unpublished, sadly), years ago, I would receive feedback all over the chapters and physically have to open other windows to block off parts of the screen on my laptop to slow-drip the feedback because I couldn’t handle constructive criticism all at once. I had my betas color-code their commentary so I could see before I read any of it that it wasn’t all negative. It took me thrice as long as it does today to get through a beta’s feedback because I got so nervous and anxious about what they would say.

The main thing I learned was this: They’re usually right, when it’s not just being mean (and even then, it’s rarely flat out mean), and that whatever criticisms they have of my characters and plot choices is not criticism of myself.

It did take time.

But now I can get feedback from betas and even when I hear “I’d DNF this shit right now unless you delete this,” I take a step back, examine if this one little detail is really that important, and fix it. No emotional turmoil and panic attack needed. I can also hear “I didn’t like it” without heartbreak. Can’t please everyone.

The only time I freak out is when I'm told "this won't need massive edits" followed up by, in the manuscript, "I'd DNF this shit right now". Which happened. And did not, in fact, require a massive rewrite to fix.

So.

What might be some issues with your story and why it “isn’t working”.

1. Your protagonist is not active enough in the story

You’ve picked your protagonist, but it’s every other character that has more to do, more to say, more choices to make, and they’re just along for the ride, yet you are now anchored to this character’s story because they’re the protagonist. You can either swap focus characters, or rework your story to give them more agency. Figure out why this character, above any other, is your hero.

2. Your pacing is too slow

Even if you have a “lazy river” style story where the vibes and marinating in the world is more important than a breakneck plot, slow pacing isn’t just “how fast the story moves” it’s “how clearly is the story told,” meaning if you divert the story to a side quest, or spend too long on something that sure is fluffy or romantic or funny, but it adds nothing to the characters because it’s redundant, doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t give us more about the world that actually matters to the themes, then you may have lost focus of the story and should consider deleting it, or editing important elements into the scenes so they can pull double-duty and serve a more active purpose.

3. You’ve lost the main argument of your narrative

Sometimes even the best of outlines and the clearest plans derail. Characters don’t cooperate and while we see where it goes, we end up getting hung up on how this one really cool scene or argument or one-liner just has to be in the story, without realizing that doing so sacrifices what you set out to accomplish. Personally I think sticking to your outline with biblical determination doesn’t allow for new ideas during the writing process, but if you find yourself down the line of “how did we get here, this isn’t what I wanted” you can always save the scenes in another document to reuse later, in this WIP or another in the future.

4. You’re spending too long on one element

Even if the thing started out really cool, whether it’s a rich fantasy pit stop for your characters or a conversation two characters must have, sometimes scenes and ideas extend long past their prime. You might have characters stuck in one location for 2 or 3 chapters longer than necessary trying to make it perfect or stuff in all these details or make it overcomplicated, when the rest of the story sits impatiently on the sidelines for them to move on. Figure out the most important reasons for this element to exist, take a step back, and whittle away until the fat is cut.

5. You’ve given a side character too much screentime

New characters are fun and exciting! But they can take over the story when they’re not meant to, robbing agency from your core characters to leave them sitting with nothing to do while the new guy handles everything. You might end up having to drag your core characters along behind them, tossing them lines of dialogue and side tasks to do because you ran out of plot to delegate with one character hogging it all (which is the issue I ran into with the above mentioned WIP). Not talking about a new villain or a new love interest, I mean a supporting character who is supposed to support the main characters.

—

As for figuring out the difference between “this is awful and I’m a bad writer” and “this element isn’t working” try pretending the book was written by somebody else and you’re giving them constructive criticism.

If you can come up with a reason for why it’s not working that doesn’t insult the writer, it’s probably the latter. As in, “This element isn’t working… because it’s gone on too long and the conversation has become cyclical and tiring.” Not “this element isn’t working because it’s bad.”

Why is it bad?

“This conversation is awkward because…. There’s not enough movement between characters and the dialogue is really stiff.”

“This fight scene is bad because….I don’t have enough dynamic action, enough juicy verbs, or full use of the stage I’ve set.”

“This romantic scene is bad because…. It’s taking place at the wrong time in the story. I want to keep it, but this character isn’t ready for it yet, and the vibe is all wrong now because they’re out-of-character.”

“This argument is bad because…. It didn’t have proper build-up and the sudden shouting match is not reflective of their characters. They’re too angry, and it got out of hand quickly. Or I’m not conveying the root of their aggression.”

—

There aren’t very many bad ideas, just bad execution. “Only rational people can think they’re crazy. Crazy people think they’re sane,” applies to writing, too.

I just read a fanfic recently where, for every fight scene, I could tell action was not the writer’s strong suit. They leaned really heavily on a crutch of specific injuries for their characters, the same unusual spot getting hit over and over again, and fights that dragged on for too long being unintentionally stagnant. The rest of the fic was great, though, and while the fights weren’t the best, I understood that the author was trying, and I kept reading for the good stuff. One day they will be better.

In my experience beta reading, it’s the cocky authors who send me an unedited manuscript and tell me to be kind (because they can’t take criticism), that they know it’s perfect they just want an outside opinion (they don’t want the truth, they want what will make them feel good), that they know it’s going to make them a lot of money and everyone will love it (they haven’t dedicated proper time and effort into researching marketing, target audiences, or current trends)—these are the truly bad authors. Not just bad at writing, but bad at taking feedback, are bullies when you point out flaws in their story, and cheap, too.

The best story I have received to date was where the author didn’t preempt with a self-deprecating deluge of “it’s probably terrible you know but here it is anyway” or “this is perfect and I’m super confident you’re going to love it”.

It was something like, “This is my first book and I know it has flaws and I’m nervous but I had a lot of fun doing it”.

And yeah, it needed work, but the bones of something great were there. So give yourself some credit, yeah?

#writing #writing advice #writing a book #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writeblr #outlining #story structure #editing

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pixel7777 · 4 months ago

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Dedications - A Bloodweave Fanfic

The full version of the beautiful artwork commissioned from the incredible misfitlunatic (https://x.com/misfit_lunatik or https://bsky.app/profile/misfitlunatik.bsky.social) can be seen in all its glory here.

This fanfic is a sequel and will be better enjoyed after reading Editorial Prerogative.

🪶📜The Netherbrain has been defeated, and the party has gone their separate ways. Astarion and Gale have moved into Gale's tower in Waterdeep while Gale focuses on publishing the chronicle that brought them together. Astarion has an entirely different focus and... thoughts about their post-adventure life he has yet to confess.📜🪶

Read here below or on AO3!

Work Content Tags: Post Canon, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, POV Astarion, ~5K words

This fic about the extensive contributions of editors and beta-readers had amazing beta readers! This one was much rougher than Editorial Prerogative as a draft and was improved extensively by their thoughtful suggestions. There was no time for a second round of edits after doing my best to merge everyone's ideas, and sometimes I am stubborn in keeping my errors. Kindly consider all those errors that remain to be entirely my own. You can blame the cum jokes on me as well ;)

Thank you very much silent_as_the_grave, bashfulexe, and hiraethey for your time and help! This one is dedicated to you!

Like Gale in this story, I cherish feedback! I'd appreciate reblogs and replies 😁

Dedications

"Seven minutes left," Astarion purred against Gale's ear, rolling his hips. "Still think you can hold the Fly spell that long?"

The moonlight through the tower's high windows cast blue shadows across their skin as Astarion pressed Gale against nothing but air, twenty feet off the floor just below the vaulted ceiling of their master bedroom. His lover's warmth radiated through him as their bodies moved in tandem, suspended by Gale's magic. Dimmed lanterns lit the bed lay far below, its sheets already rumpled from earlier activities.

Gale's breath hitched. "You underestimate—ah—my concentration."

"Do I?" Astarion shifted his grip on Gale's thighs, changing the angle. "One slip and we both fall."

"I'm well aware." Gale's fingers dug into Astarion's shoulders, a moan escaping him. "Though I suspect that's part of the appeal for you."

"You know me so well." Astarion nipped at Gale's neck, careful not to break skin. The thrill of danger, of testing limits—it made everything sharper, brighter. "Six minutes now."

Gale's magic held them aloft, but Astarion controlled their movements, using his grip on Gale's hips to drive his cock deeper. The tower's chill air raised goosebumps on Gale's skin. Astarion traced them with his tongue, savoring each shiver and gasp he drew from his wizard.

"Five minutes." Astarion grinned against Gale's collarbone. "Shall we make it interesting? If you drop us, you have to indulge that idea I had about Greater Invisibility and the Blackstaff library stacks."

"Not—ah—not a chance." Gale's voice wavered as Astarion found just the right spot. "And at some point you will need to explain your preoccupation with spells with limited durations."

"We'll see about that." Astarion quickened his pace, determined to drive Gale over the edge and test his vaunted concentration. "Four minutes, love. Still feeling confident?"

Astarion slid one hand from Gale's hip, tracing his lover's trembling abdomen before wrapping deft fingers around Gale's cock. They had been lovers for months now, and he knew every sensitive spot, every trick to make Gale unravel. A few strokes—firm and sure—and Gale's breath stuttered, his body tensing.

"Three minutes," Astarion whispered, with wicked delight. "But who's counting?"

Gale's response was a strangled moan, his nails biting into Astarion's flesh. Astarion could feel the precise moment Gale's concentration shattered—the magic holding them aloft flickered, and gravity reasserted itself. Gale's climax hit, his cock pulsing in Astarion's grip, and they plummeted.

Astarion twisted them mid-air and pulled out. They crashed onto the bed, laughter bursting from both as the mattress creaked in protest and they fell apart.

"Well, that was invigorating," Astarion chuckled, brushing a lock of hair from Gale's flushed face.

Gale grinned, still breathless. "You cheated."

"I did no such thing." Astarion feigned innocence. "I recall no agreements with regard to the means by which I may or may not distract you."

Gale pushed himself up, straddling Astarion's hips, and raised a questioning eyebrow. "My turn to take the lead, I think?" Astarion nodded a yes and ran his hands up Gale's thighs. Gale's eyes gleamed with mischief as he reached behind him, positioning Astarion's cock, his hole still wonderfully slick and stretched. He sank down slowly, a gasp escaping him as he took Astarion in fully again.

Astarion's hands found Gale's hips, guiding his rhythm. The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure, the bed creaking in time with their movements. And then—a soft, wet plop. Astarion glanced up just as another drop of Gale's cum fell from the ceiling, where it had splattered in generous abundance, landing on Gale's shoulder.

"Oh, for the love of—" Astarion started, laughter bubbling up.

Gale looked down, bewildered, then up at the ceiling. Another drop fell, this time on his cheek. He wiped it away, a laugh escaping him as well. "Well, this is... distracting."

"Focus, darling," Astarion teased, though his own concentration was waning. "You have a task to complete."

Gale shook his head, grinning, and refocused his efforts. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on Astarion's chest, and rolled his hips with renewed determination. Astarion stroked Gale's thighs encouragingly, his breath coming faster.

Another drop fell, this time on Astarion's forehead. He swiped it away, growling playfully. "Gale..."

Gale bit his lip, trying to hold back laughter. "Not my fault you wanted to defy gravity. Gravity, apparently, wants payback."

Astarion bucked his hips, driving deeper into Gale. "Less talking, more riding."

Gale complied, his movements becoming more urgent. Astarion could feel his own climax building, the tension in his body coiling tighter. The lantern light glinted off the oil on Gale's spent cock and the sweat on the planes of his chest. Beautiful. His lover was so damned beautiful. He reached up, pulling Gale down into a fierce kiss. Gale's body pressed against his, their movements syncing perfectly.

And then, finally, Astarion's release hit, his body arching as he spilled into Gale. He broke the kiss, a groan escaping him as he emptied and gave himself to the moment. Gale rode him through it, his own breath ragged, until they both stilled, panting and sated.

Astarion looked up at Gale, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Well, that was—"

Another drop of cum fell from the ceiling, landing squarely on Astarion's nose. He sighed, laughing as Gale collapsed onto his chest, their laughter filling the room.

Gale pushed himself up, kneeling over Astarion as he surveyed the ceiling. "Well, that's quite the mess."

Astarion smirked, stretching languidly beneath him. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Gale rolled his eyes but grinned as he stood, careful to keep his balance on the mattress. He reached up, stretching to his full height, and began to chant softly. A faint glow enveloped his hand as he waved it toward the stain, his Prestidigitation spell making quick work of the mess.

Astarion watched, appreciating the view. Gale's body was lean and toned, his muscles shifting under smooth skin as Astarion's own spend ran down Gale's thighs. "You know, I could get used to this sight," he mused.

Gale glanced down, a smirk playing on his lips. "Me cleaning the ceiling?"

"You, naked and on display," Astarion corrected. "The chores getting done is just a bonus."

Gale shook his head, returning to his task. Once the ceiling was spotless, he turned his attention to them, cleaning them both efficiently. Astarion sat up, gently pulling Gale back down to the bed. He reached for a small vial of the soothing oil they favored for aftercare on the nightstand, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers.

"Let me," he murmured, guiding Gale onto his stomach. He started at Gale's shoulders, massaging gently before moving lower. His fingers found the spot where Gale's back met his ass, and he rubbed slow circles into the skin, feeling Gale relax under his touch.

Astarion took his time, his fingers eventually slipping between Gale's cheeks, applying the oil with tender care. Gale sighed softly, his body melting into the mattress. Astarion loved this—the quiet moments after, when Gale let him take control in a different way.

Even as he tended to Gale, a restless energy hummed beneath his skin. The night had been perfect—dangerous and thrilling and everything he had wanted—but already his mind flitted to what came next. There was always another sexual adventure to plan, another boundary to push.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Gale's spine. "How was that?"

Gale hummed contentedly, turning his head to look at Astarion. "Perfect. Thank you."

Astarion smiled. He lay down next to Gale, propping his head up on one hand.

"You're thinking," Gale murmured, eyes closed.

"Always," Astarion admitted.

Gale cracked one eye open, studying him. "About what, I wonder?"

Astarion shrugged, his fingers still moving. "Just... possibilities. For next time."

Gale hummed, a small smile on his lips. "Dangerous word, 'possibilities'."

Astarion's grin sharpened. "Exactly."

Gale chuckled, shifting to face Astarion fully. "You've been insatiable lately."

"And you love it," Astarion retorted.

Gale's smile softened, his hand reaching up to cup Astarion's face. "I do."

Astarion leaned into the touch, but his mind was still racing, already planning. This night had been a success, but there was always more to explore, more pleasure to experience. And he intended to make the most of every moment.

Gale shifted, reaching for something on the nightstand. Astarion spotted a manuscript bound in stiff canvas. Another proof copy from the printer, of course. Astarion sighed. The book. Again.

"Must we? I can think of far more entertaining ways to spend our time." Astarion traced a finger down Gale's spine, trying to distract him.

"The printer needs the final draft by tomorrow. I just need you to look at one more thing."

"Volo's barely started shopping his version around." Astarion rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling to avoid meeting Gale's eyes, hoping that for once Gale would just set the book aside and come fully back to him without having to be chivvied into it. "What's the rush?"

"The rush is getting the true account published first. Before he can romanticize everything into nonsense. And I want you to edit the dedication."

"The dedication." Astarion's voice went flat. Of course Gale would want his help polishing the final touches of his grand scholarly achievement. "Surely you can handle that without my input."

"I'd really like your thoughts on it."

"What's to think about? 'To my beloved companions, who provided such invaluable assistance.' There. Done." Astarion waved a dismissive hand. "Now put that away and come back here."

"That's not—"

Something about Gale's earnest expression made Astarion's skin prickle uncomfortably. He didn't want to examine why being asked to edit the dedication bothered him so much. Better to provoke, to push, to make Gale as unsettled as he felt.

"Or perhaps 'To my dear editor, without whose sharp wit this tome would be unbearably dull.'" Astarion sat up, indulging the impulse to be perfectly dreadful. "Though I suppose that might undermine your scholarly authority."

Gale's expression shifted from amusement to concern. "Astarion—"

"No, no, I've got it." He snatched the proof copy from Gale's hands. "'To my reformed vampiric lover, who made this chronicle possible by not eating me that first night.' How's that?"

Gale gaped. "You really think that I would mischaracterize your contributions? Or that that's how I see you?"

"Isn't it?" The words came out sharper than intended. "It's your book, after all. Your legacy."

Astarion's fingers tightened on the manuscript, the binding creaking under his grip. He knew he was being unfair—Gale had never treated him as less than an equal partner. And he had loved working on that manuscript together during the long months of their adventure. It had been the thing to finally bring them together.

But lately, everything felt... off. Wrong. Like an itch he couldn't scratch.

He had thought it would be simple after they'd saved the world. No more running, no more fighting, no more desperate scramble for survival. Just pleasure and comfort and Gale. And for the first few weeks, that had been enough. More than enough.

But now...

The empty hours stretched endlessly. While Gale pored over proof copies and attended meetings, first with various publishers and then the printer, Astarion found himself prowling their tower like a caged animal. He had tried everything—shopping, decorating, arranging elaborate dinners he couldn't eat just to watch Gale enjoy them.

Sex helped. For a little while, at least. When he had Gale's full attention, when they were testing limits and discovering new ways to please each other, everything felt right again. But then Gale would reach for that damned book, and the emptiness would creep back in.

It wasn't fair to resent Gale's dream finally coming to fruition. His beloved wizard was thriving, getting the recognition he deserved. But a nasty voice in Astarion's head whispered that Gale should be focusing on him instead. After two centuries of serving others, wasn't it his turn to be the center of someone's world?

He glanced at Gale, who watched him with patient concern. That was almost worse than anger would have been.

Astarion hurled the manuscript onto the bed. "Oh, don't look at me like that. Like I'm some delicate thing about to shatter. I've had quite enough of your concerned wizard act for one evening."

"This isn't an act. You have witnessed my best attempts at acting—why wouldn't you think my concern was real?" Gale's brow furrowed. "I genuinely don't understand why you're upset."

"Of course you don't." Astarion stood, pacing naked across the floor. The moonlight caught his pale skin, turning his already pale skin a nearly ghostly white. "You're far too busy with your precious book to notice anything else these days."

"That's not fair—"

"Fair?" Astarion whirled on him. "You want to talk about fair? While you're off being courted by every publisher in Waterdeep, what exactly am I meant to do with myself? Sit here and look pretty? Wait for you to need an editorial opinion?"

Gale's mouth opened, then closed. The sudden understanding in his expression only stoked Astarion's anger.

"Here's a confession for you—perhaps something you could work into an epilogue. Do you know what I did yesterday? I reorganized our closet. Again. Then I spent three hours watching the unseen servants clean because I was so desperately bored I considered doing it myself." He ran a hand through his hair. "I can't even go outside during the day anymore, now that this blasted tadpole is gone. I'm just... here. Useless. Decorative."

"You're not—"

"And do you know what I did last week?" Astarion continued his pacing, each step precise despite his growing agitation. "I reorganized our library. Twice. First alphabetically, which was mind-numbingly dull, and then by level of pretentiousness—you'll be delighted to know your treatise on the standardization of arcane nomenclature ranked near the top. And you have been so singularly focused on the book you never even noticed to complain!"

His laugh came out sharp and bitter. "Then I spent an entire evening categorizing your spell components by color. Not utility, mind you. Just aesthetics. Because apparently that's what I've been reduced to—interior decoration and waiting for you to need my opinion on your prose. "

The words tumbled out now, each confession carrying a twisted satisfaction at revealing his pathetic pastimes in all their absurdity. "I've named all the rats in the cellar. Did you know that? There's Herbert—he's missing half an ear—and Old Lady Whiskers, though she might be dead now. I haven't checked today."

"Astarion, I didn't know…"

"How would you? You've been so very busy at the printers." Astarion gestured wildly at the wardrobe. "I've arranged your robes by the seasons. Then by texture. Then by how likely they are to get you propositioned at academic functions. I even tried to learn that ridiculous card game Wyll taught us, but it's significantly less entertaining when you're playing against yourself and can see all the hands."

Astarion's lips curled into a sneer. "I thought saving the world would finally free you from your compulsive need to make your name, but alas, here we are again—we're both naked, but you're distracted by paper.

"And now you want me to help polish your grand achievement. To put the finishing touches on the story of how we saved the world. Except we're not saving the world anymore, are we? You've found your new purpose. While I..." He gestured vaguely at himself. "Well, I suppose I can always fall back on being very good at fucking you senseless. At least until you tire of that too."

The hurt that flashed across Gale's face should have felt satisfying. Instead, it just made Astarion's gut churn. He had gone too far and been monstrously unfair. It didn't help that he knew it and couldn't stop spewing attacks he didn't even mean.

Gale reached for the discarded manuscript. Astarion turned away, not wanting to see more of that wounded expression, but Gale moved to his side and held the book out. The silence stretched between them.

"Really?" Astarion snapped. "After all that? Now?"

Gale didn't respond, just kept holding out the book. Fine. If that's how he wanted to play it. Astarion snatched the manuscript, ready to tear into whatever flowery dedication Gale had composed.

"Read the cover first," Gale said quietly.

Astarion frowned. "The cover? What—"

The words caught his eye, and his throat went tight. He blinked, certain he was misreading. But no—there it was, clear as day: "The Fall of the Absolute: An Eyewitness Chronicle, by Gale Dekarios and Astarion Ancunín."

He read it again. And again. His name. On the cover. As co-author.

He looked up at Gale, unable to form words.

A brilliant smile spread across Gale's face. "Did you really think I saw this as just my book? Your perspective shaped every chapter. Your commentary challenged my interpretations, made me question my assumptions." He stepped closer, taking Astarion's free hand. "Your voice is woven through every page. What kind of historian would I be if I neglected to give my co-author the credit he deserves?"

Astarion's fingers clenched, his chest tight with something that wasn't quite pain.

Astarion stared at his name on the cover, tracing the letters with his thumb. His name. Not in a footnote or acknowledgment, but right there beside Gale's. Equal. Co-author.

He glanced at Gale, then back at the book, checking for an illusion to fade, for the joke to materialize. No, the words remained unchanged.

He flipped through the front pages, scanning for the inevitable correction—some footnote or disclaimer that would put him back in his proper place. Surely there would be a note: "With editorial assistance from..." or "Based on the contributions of..." But the title page bore both their names. The introduction credited them equally. Even the publisher's mark listed them as co-authors.

Gale's voice washed over him, explaining how he had meant it as a surprise, how he had never meant to make Astarion feel excluded. "I've thought of it as our book for ages, since before we were even an us. I should have told you sooner—"

But Astarion barely heard him. Two centuries of being nothing more than Cazador's property, a toy to be used and discarded. Even after their victory, even after becoming a "hero," he had been defined by others—the reformed monster, the redeemed villain.

But this... this was different. This wasn't just surviving or being forgiven.

Astarion's hands trembled slightly as he opened to the first chapter. His own words jumped out at him from the page—not just in commentary, but woven seamlessly into the narrative. His marginalia hadn't just inspired edits—they had shaped the story itself. Where Gale's original draft had focused on the metaphysical implications of their tadpoles, the final version explored the visceral horror of violation, the psychological toll of being changed against one's will. His perspective on what it meant to be transformed, to lose control of one's own body, had deepened the scholarly analysis into something raw and real.

Even his most acerbic comments had been valued. That entire section comparing various theories about the tadpoles' nature had been completely restructured after he had written "For fuck's sake, Gale, get to the point before your readers expire from old age."

Astarion traced a finger over a particularly elegant turn of phrase—one he distinctly remembered suggesting as an alternative to Gale's more flowery original version. His words. His thoughts. His perspective. Not filtered or edited to be more palatable, but presented as essential to understanding their shared story.

This was creation. His words, his perspective, preserved in ink and on paper. Not as a cautionary tale or a victim's testimony, but as an author. A chronicler of his own story. Gale was right, of course—by the time they had exchanged back-and-forth notes on any given page, it was likely half Astarion's words and thoughts. He just hadn't thought of it that way.

His throat felt tight. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Gale, I—" The apology stuck in his throat. He had been so quick to lash out, to blow things all out of proportion.

"Don't." Gale's hand covered his where it gripped the book. "I need your help with something more important. The dedication—"

"What is it with you and this damn dedication?" Astarion's voice cracked slightly.

Gale smiled as Astarion hesitated, the pages half-turned.

"Go on." Gale's voice was warm, encouraging. "It's the best part."

Astarion's throat tightened. He had already received more than he had dared hope for. What if this undid it all? What if, after seeing his name on the cover, the dedication reduced him back to a mere contributor?

"My love." Gale's hand covered his on the page. "Trust me."

He turned the page.

Two passages faced each other on the creamy paper—mutual dedications, Astarion realized with a start. Astarion looked up at Gale, blinking fast to keep traitorous tears from falling. Gale's own eyes were suspiciously watery, but his smile was radiant, their argument and Astarion's ranting obviously forgiven. Gale moved to wrap his arms around Astarion from behind. Astarion nestled back into Gale's embrace before shifting his attention to the pages. He read Gale's first—formal yet intimate, managing to capture their collaboration in a way that left his chest tight.

"To my dearest Astarion, whose sharp tongue, sharper mind, and inexhaustible patience turned these words from mere history into something worthy of remembrance. And to our companions, who lived this story alongside us. This book is but ink on parchment; you are the legends."

But the second... He recognized his own words—remembered scrawling them in the margins months ago during one of their late-night editing sessions. He had been marking up Gale's latest chapter with increasingly ridiculous commentary, each note an excuse to keep their conversation going, to stay in that perfect bubble of possibility...

"You kept this?" His finger traced the words. That night had been months ago, before they'd even kissed. Before he had realized that their endless exchanges of notes and rebuttals had become something more than editorial collaboration.

"I kept all of them," Gale said softly. "Every margin note. Every correction. Every time you called my prose 'insufferably flowery' or suggested I was 'compensating for something' with my extensive footnotes. They are as much a part of our story as the text itself."

He had been tired, punch-drunk on lack of rest and the joy of their collaboration, and had written what amounted to a love letter disguised as snark. Gale had picked lines from it and composed a dedication on his behalf.

"To Gale Dekarios, who never met a sentence he couldn't overcomplicate. On the darkest days, your relentless optimism that our story would be worth telling made the endless footnotes (almost) worth it. And to our comrades-in-madness, who not only survived but triumphed despite their best efforts to the contrary. (P.S. You are all still insufferable.)"

"I borrowed that from your notes," Gale whispered, drawing Astarion closer as he spoke the words against his ear. "But of course, you should write whatever you'd prefer. You obviously don't have to dedicate anything to me. Presumptuous, I know, although I meant it to be romantic. This was just a placeholder until—"

Astarion stared at his own words on the page, all his usual sharp retorts deserting him. The dedication—their dedication to each other of the book that had brought them together—was there in permanent ink, ready to be bound into countless copies. His thoughts, his perspective, his story—preserved forever.

He stepped out of Gale's arms and sank onto the edge of the bed, still clutching the proof copy. The weight of it felt different now. Real. Lasting. Not just Gale's grand scholarly achievement, but their shared legacy.

Gale stood before him, radiating that particular blend of smugness and affection that should have been infuriating. But Astarion had long since learned to love these little moments of his wizard's self-satisfaction—especially when they came from making him happy. "Do you like it? Or shall I prepare myself for another ten pages of revisions?"

"I think..." Astarion's voice came out barely above a whisper. "I think it's perfect."

Gale's eyebrows shot up in pleased surprise. He turned to the side table where—of course—he had already set out a bottle of wine and two glasses, clearly having planned this moment. The bastard.

Astarion found his footing again, a smile tugging at his lips. "Though I still reserve the right to deface every copy in circulation with additional notes."

"I would expect nothing less." Gale handed him a glass of deep red wine, raising his own. "To our book?"

"To our book," Astarion agreed. "And to the idiots who made it worth writing."

Their glasses clinked softly in the moonlight.

Astarion savored the wine, letting its rich flavor chase away the lingering tension. "To our book," he repeated softly, still caught on those words.

"I should have told you sooner," Gale said, settling beside him. "About the co-authorship. About all of it. I got caught up in the excitement of publication and forgot that you might not see what I see when I look at these pages."

"And what do you see?" Astarion asked, trying for lightness but not quite achieving it.

Gale's expression softened as he set his wine glass aside. "I see us, darling. Not just our adventures, but the way your wit cuts through pretense to find truth. The way you take my meandering thoughts and sharpen them into something precise and powerful." He took Astarion's free hand. "I saw a future where we might do this again. Together. Writing about whatever catches our interest."

Astarion's chest tightened at the earnestness in Gale's voice.

"And once again, that was presumptuous of me," Gale continued. "Just because you excel at this doesn't mean it needs to be your future. I should have discussed my hopes with you instead of assuming. Asked what you wanted rather than letting you feel trapped here with nothing but closet organization and the corruption of my virtue to occupy your time."

"I suppose I haven't been particularly... forthcoming either. About how adrift I've been feeling." Astarion gave a short laugh. "Though attempting to seduce you into distraction every time you mentioned the book lately probably should have been a hint."

"Gods, I've been stupidly oblivious, haven't I?" Gale ran a thumb over Astarion's knuckles. "Here I was, planning our literary future while you were naming rats in the cellar."

Astarion traced the rim of his wine glass. "Well, to be fair, I hadn't exactly been making any competing plans, really. Beyond finding new ways to scandalize Tara." He gave a hollow laugh. "Two centuries of torture and degradation, and all I could think about was pleasure. As if that would be enough."

"And now?"

"Now I don't know what I want. Isn't that ridiculous? I finally have everything I dreamed of—wealth, safety, you." He gestured at their opulent surroundings. "I should be content with endless pleasure and no purpose. But I'm not content."

Gale's fingers ghosted along his jaw. "There's nothing ridiculous about wanting more than hedonism, love. Though I must say, your dedication to corrupting my virtue in the wake of our trials has been a thoroughly appreciated respite."

"Has it now?" Astarion managed a genuine smirk. "And here I thought you were too distracted by your—no, our—precious book to notice."

"Oh, I noticed." Gale's voice dropped lower. "In fact, I've been taking extensive mental notes for future reference."

"Always the scholar." Astarion leaned into his touch. "Though I suppose that's served us both rather well, hasn't it?"

"Indeed. And perhaps..." Gale's thumb brushed his lower lip. "You might consider that pleasure and purpose aren't mutually exclusive. You have a gift for this—for taking complex ideas and making them sing. Why not pursue that alongside your campaign of corruption? Something to consider. And to talk about—together, I hope. We have plenty of time to work through our options, now that the editing is done, at least for the moment—" Gale began.

"For the moment?" Astarion's head snapped up. "What do you mean, 'for the moment'?"

"Well, perhaps—just perhaps, of course—there will be our next book to consider." Gale said it so casually, as if he hadn't just upended Astarion's entire worldview for the second time that evening. "But I think we've earned a break, don't you?"

"Next book," Astarion echoed faintly. The implications spun through his mind—more late nights arguing over prose, more shared discoveries, more chances to shape how their story was told. Not just this one volume, but others. A series, perhaps?

"Though at present," Gale continued, his tone shifting to something distinctly more promising, "I find myself rather more interested in your earlier claim of more interesting ways we might spend our evening."

Our next book. The idea seems so absurd that for a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with it. A future, stretching beyond just this one volume.

Astarion set his wine glass aside, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "You know, darling, maybe we should begin thinking about potential topics for our next collaboration. Perhaps something focusing on the political implications of—" He broke off as Gale's lips found his neck and a frisson of pleasure made him shiver. "—the various factions within Baldur's Gate during the crisis."

"Fascinating," Gale murmured against his skin. "Do continue."

"Well, considering the complex web of alliances—" Astarion's breath hitched as Gale's hands slid down his sides. "I believe my name should appear first on this one, given my unique insights into the city's power structure."

Gale hummed noncommittally, pushing him back onto the bed. "We can discuss the particulars later."

"But the publishing contract—oh." His protest dissolved into a gasp as Gale's beard brushed over his nipples in that way Gale knew he liked. "That's not fair."

"What isn't fair?" Gale's innocent tone didn't match his actions at all. "I'm merely expressing my enthusiasm for potential future literary endeavors."

Astarion struggled to maintain his train of thought as Gale shifted lower. "The... structure would benefit from..." He lost his place entirely as Gale did something lovely with his tongue and borrowed blood left his brain to chase the sensation. "What was I saying?"

"Something about structure, I believe." Gale's muffled voice held entirely too much amusement.

"Right. Structure. And proper credit for—oh gods." Astarion's fingers tangled in Gale's hair and tugged gently. "You're making it very difficult to discuss business arrangements."

"Am I?" Gale lifted his head, eyes dancing with mischief. "How terribly inconsiderate of me. Please, continue outlining your publishing strategy."

Astarion's protests died away as the room was filled with the soft sounds of their breaths, the rustle of sheets, and the distant hum of Waterdeep's nightlife. There was no urgency this time, no ticking clock of a spell about to expire. Just the two of them, realigned in purpose and desire, and it was wonderful.

Astarion breathed into the pleasure as Gale's tongue worked this other magic of his. He could feel Gale's smile against his skin, the warmth of his breath as he moved. Astarion moaned, shamelessly, as Gale took him deeply, swallowing him down and then sucking hard as he pulled back. Gale looked up, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Enjoy that, do you?"

Astarion laughed. "You're far too smug for your own good."

Gale grinned. "And you're far too delicious for yours."

Astarion reached down, tracing the line of his jaw. "You know, I think we might have a real talent for this."

Gale's eyebrow quirked. "For what, exactly?"

"Sex, darling. I think we should write a book about it."

Gale laughed, a full-throated sound that warmed Astarion to his core. "A sex book? Really?"

"Mmhm," Astarion hummed, already imagining the possibilities. "Think about it. We've certainly done enough research, more than enough to fill certain gaps in The Quarta Sune and make our own, unique contributions to the field."

Gale's hand took the place of his mouth, clearly intrigued by the discussion but unwilling to abandon Astarion's pleasure entirely. "And who would be the target audience for this illustrious tome?"

"Everyone," Astarion declared, happily rolling his hips into Gale's touch. "Think of all the poor souls out there, fumbling around in the dark, metaphorically speaking. We could be doing a public service."

Gale's laughter shook the bed and disrupted the rhythm of that exquisite stroking. "A public service? Really?"

"Absolutely," Astarion insisted. "And of course, I should be first author on this one too."

Gale's hand moved faster. "And why is that?"

"B-because," Astarion stuttered, his hips bucking up into Gale's grasp. "I have more experience."

Gale's smile was positively wicked. "Is that a challenge, my love? Because I would like to point out the difference between qualitative and quantitative research."

Astarion grinned, pulling Gale up for a kiss. "It's a fact, darling. But I'm sure with your natural prowess, you'll have no trouble keeping up."

Gale's lips curved against his. "I do love a good competition."

"Mmm," Astarion agreed, his body already racing toward the finish line under Gale's firm touch. "And I do love a good—oh!"

Gale's fingers did something particularly clever, and Astarion decided that perhaps they should do a bit more research before committing anything to paper. Between the two of them, he was sure they'd get it right.

#bg3 #astarion #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanfic #myfic #bloodweave

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 9 months ago

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Why Writing Is So Lonely | Rin T.

Hello writers, and anyone else who uses Tumblr on a daily basis like me. (Although I’ve been inactive off and on.) It’s me, Rin, and I wanted to talk about something that I think a lot of us struggle with. Or at least anyone, and everyone who considers themselves writers.

The loneliness that can come with the writing life and being a writer. We spend so much of our time alone. It doesn’t matter if you're using your laptop or scribbling in notebooks. Or pacing around in your living room and muttering dialogue to yourself (which I'm completely guilty of.)

Writing is really a solitary passion, and it hasn't just recently been like that. I'm sure Jane Austen and Edgar Allen Poe dealt with similar feelings. And sometimes that isolation can take a real toll that many of us choose to ignore, both on our creativity, our passion, which I assume is writing in this case, and our mental health.

I’ve been writing for about 4 years now, mostly working on my own little passion projects that I plan on publishing and side hustles, not only for my writing project but also my blog (TheWrite AdviceForWriters). I’m currently knee-deep in 4 different novel drafts that I’m absolutely in love with. However, let me tell you. It can get Very lonely a lot of times. There are days when I feel like I’m the only person in the world who cares about these made-up characters and their fictional problems. The characters I create in my mind are so vivid that they seem like the only individuals who actually care about my passion. (They technically are, considering they are basically my passion.)

It’s so easy to start wondering whether anyone will ever want to read the stories I'm pouring my heart into. The self-doubt I get has been a big part of my writing journey, and sometimes it breaks my heart knowing that I may not please everyone who reads my stories. That I possibly could get the worst reviews out there on my book. If it's not perfect for society. For example, I have been reading and receiving news on Alex Aster and the amount of bad reviews she received for her LightLark novel, and she has had a few times where she’s stated she poured her heart into it. And it's not just Aster who deals with these as a published author; there are many others, and it sometimes scares me.

But you know what? I've come to realize that this loneliness is just part of the writer’s journey. And that it truly is going to be the process of every writer’s journey and career. It’s going to be one of the prominent challenges we have to face if we want to do this crazy, wonderful, painful thing we call writing. And I think it's important we talk about it, especially since I'm a blogger who owns a blog specifically for writers. The biggest reason I chose to create this blog was for this reason and the many other challenges of being a writer.

I definitely will consider this blog post to be a discussion, and if anyone wants to reblog or reply to this blog post and start a conversation, please do so, just so we can support each other and figure out healthy ways to cope.

So, why is writing such a lonely pursit? Well, there are quite a few reasons, especially reasons for each individual writer; however, here are a few key reasons:

The Act Itself is Solitary.

At the end of the day, writing is something we have to do on our own. Sure, we can brainstorm with other writers and friends who write or get feedback from beta readers. Or even develop and edit your manuscript with a professional book editor. But the actual act of putting words on the page is a solo endeavor. We’re the ones doing the typing, the (physical) writing, and the constant racking of our brains to find the perfect word or phrase to put down on paper or the blank page on a screen.

Even when we’re writing collaboratively, there’s still a certain level of isolation involved. I mean, after all, our individual writing process and creative visions have to align for the collaboration to work.

And let’s be real—aligning those things isn't always easy.

I’ve reached out to book editors, more so of developmental editors, which is an editor who guides the writer/author on the actual plot and outline of the novel itself. And they have mentioned the difficulties of needing to align with the creativity of the topic or novel. It isn't easy at all.

I know that for me, my most productive writing sessions happen when I'm alone. And I know for a fact I'm not alone on that.

Having no distractions when it's just me, my thoughts, and the blinking cursor on the screen with a Spotify playlist playing in the background. And while that can be deeply fulfilling and very productive, I will admit it can be incredibly lonely.

It's an Emotionally Draining Process.

Writing isn't just about stringing words together. It's about pouring our hearts and souls onto the page. Were digging into our deepest emotions, our biggest fear, our wildest dreams, our thoughts, our philosophy, I can go on. And that kind of vulnerability can be utterly exhausting.

When I'm in the process of drafting a new novel or the many current projects I'm working on. I often find myself emotionally drained at the end of the day. I've been living and breathing these characters, feeling their joys and pains as my own. describing the actions, words, and emotions these characters do and feel. And then after that, I have to close my laptop, put my pen and notebook away, and try to reenter the “real world"—a world that doesn’t always understand the weight I've been carrying.

It can be so isolating, feeling like the only person who understands the emotional journey of your writing. Knowing what it feels like to create characters and their stories and emotions and personalities just as if they were real humans. Our non-writer friends and family members try their best to be supportive, but unless they experience it firsthand, they cannot fully grasp the depth of what we go through. I can tell when I explain my projects to others who aren't writers, it can sometimes feel like they don't care about what I'm saying to them. Or it can also feel like, my stories are just a synopsis for an underrated movie no one’s ever watched.

It's a Profession of Rejection

I think we all know, writing is a tough gig. It's a tough career and job. Even the most successful authors have had to face their fair share of rejection. The rejections can be received from agents, publishers, readers, or critics. (like I mentioned earlier), and that constant stream of “no’s” can really chip away at our confidence and sense of self-worth. And especially if you're an aspiring author and have not yet published your work. Knowing that rejection is a big part of the career of writing is frightening. Really.

I remember when one of my best friends, who is a writer, who is currently in the process of publishing her book, would send query after query only to receive endless rejections. She told me it felt like the entire world was telling her, “Your writing isn't good enough,” and that can be a pretty lonely and demoralizing place to be. It has made me anxious about getting to the querying phase, as I still haven't begun to query yet.

Even when we start to find some success, the fear of rejection never really goes away. Will readers love our next book as much as the last one? Will readers even like my debut novel? Will the critics tear it apart? I know when I first started writing my first novel project. I rewrote the first chapter. 13 times!! And that’s because of all the questions and doubts I had in mind. It’s enough to make any writer want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

And the thing is, as writers, we often don't have the same support system that people in other professions might have. We don't have coworkers to commiserate with or a boss to reassure us; it’s just us. Our doubts and the eerie silence of an empty inbox. For example, Ana Neu, one of my all-time favorite Author-Tuber's, has dealt with similar struggles. She’s mentioned several times how lonely she feels and how her family doesn't fully understand her love and passion for writing. And I completely agree with her. If you want to listen to more of her, please listen to her podcast and watch her videos on YouTube here.

So, now that I went over the key reasons as to why writing is so lonely, I didn't want to end this post on negativity, that’s why I wanted to list the main strategies that have helped me:

Build a Writer’s Community

One of the best ways to combat the isolation of writing is to surround yourself with other writers. That’s why I found social media to be a gift, not just for the other obvious reasons, but because we get to find writers around the world who enjoy the same things we like. Having that sense of community can be a game changer.

When I first started my Tumblr blog, TheWriteAdviceForWriters, I was really hoping to create that kind of supportive space for writers. I wanted to create a space where anyone who enjoys writing—not just fiction writers, but anyone who finds writing to be a passion of theirs—can share their dreams and struggles with. It's been amazing to connect with so many incredible people who just “get” the unique challenges we face. Being able to share our achievements and share our compassions. It's been vital for my own mental health as a writer, and I hope that it can also be vital for all of you.

And of course, the community is not about venting or seeking validation from others; its about providing feedback, encouragement, and just being able to make friends. Having that makes the lonely parts of the writing process and journey feel a little less lonely.

Prioritize Self-care

It's so easy to get caught up in the work and neglect our well-being. There have been multiple times where I wouldn't take a break from my writing sessions and simply not eat and drink. I wouldn't give myself time to process everything I wrote, and I immediately after would criticize it.

However, I find that self-care is the most important part of combating the isolation that comes with being a writer. For me, that looks like making sure I get enough sleep. You can't process, learn, and remember anything when you don't have enough sleep. During my personal self-care, when I do 45-to 1-hour writing sessions, I usually take a short nap after. Eating nourishing meals and snacks is important, as is making time for the hobbies and activities that bring me joy. I usually like reading books, spending quality time with my family members, and very feisty (and sometimes scary) cat.

3. Cultivate Gratitude

When loneliness starts to creep in, it can be really helpful to shift our mindset and focus on what we are grateful for; this can be really productive and rewarding. Being a writer is a gift; we get to spend our days doing what we love, bringing our creative visions to life and sharing them with people who love literature. Readers are such a big part of being a writer, and they're huge motivations to me.

So, if you can, just take a moment to appreciate the joys of writing. For example, if you have any writing quirks, I personally have to wear bracelets on both of my wrists in order to produce some type of creativity when I write. I'm not sure why it's just something I noticed. I also really love writing my manuscripts physically. I tend to do this when I'm suffering from writer's block, and for some reason my writing style is a lot better.

And don't forget the many other joys of writing, like drafting, and the excitement of sharing your work with others. Having a new idea come to mind that fits perfectly in your plot. Or even a reader or beta reader sharing a comment on your work and giving you encouragement.

Also, please celebrate your wins; it makes writing all too fun, and it's a great way to integrate writing into the real world.

End Note

I wanted to write this post because I know a lot of us deal with feeling lonely; I’ve been feeling that way for quite some time, and I wanted to share it with Tumblr. I feel like each and every one of you all feel the same way. And that’s why I created my Tumblr community; that's the reason I created this blog, and that's the reason I strive to build this into an entire brand.

I want to bring more awareness to writers, we are the people behind the stories, movies, and media that we consume today, and we barely get any credit for our work. I want to make a brand where others who never thought writing to be their passion could actually for once consider “Is writing for me?”

I feel like it's such an underrated yet overrated passion. Yet it's not acknowledged as much.

I hope this post can make you understand that writing is 90% lonely and you are not crazy for thinking so. But, we can use the resources we have today, like social media, to change that and make writing better for the present and the future.

Thank you all for reading. And please, if you are considering joining a community if you haven't already, please join The Write Right Society. We recently met 100 members, and the community is continuing to grow.

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