#writing style is inspired by

[includedisco]

What the fanfic-writing process has become;

Finish reading a fanfic and feel awful about one's own writing then proceed to try and create works "as good as" that story. Or try to replicate that authors writing.

Scroll through social media for what fandoms are popular right now to see where you can join and get your writing seen.

Take in every piece of writing advice there is and then stress, trying to create an award-worthy fanfic story.

Crying because you can't describe your bedroom scene the way your fave fanfic writer did in their story; or because you can't describe your character's facial features like the way the advisors of writing on Tumblr said you should.

I must include this and exclude that to get my fanfic-writing respected and seen

I'm nervous about whether others will like or hate my work when I share

I don't wanna write, I have no inspo, but I must write cause I'm in this fandom that's hot right now and all my fellow writers in said fandom are posting

What fanfic-writing started as and should be;

You enjoy a piece of media, art, song, etc., you're hungry for more and so you write an extension of the universe to include stuff you wanted to see, that the original creator didn't include. No rules, no standards, and no restrictions.

Excited to just write and share a work. If others love it, it's a plus

If you want to write excellent fanfics, that's very fine as long as you're having fun and you're not stressed.

[theecholegend]

The floofs

[hootyhoowoo]

A little 15 min doodle but first post of the year has to be Bingqiu!

[damntheyare]

Under My Skin

whamgram

Chapter 13: A Hard Lesson In Humility

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to Find your Writing Style

Writing style - an author’s unique way of communicating with words.

An author creates a style with the voice, or personality, and overall tone that they apply to their text.

A writer’s style can change depending on the type of writing they’re doing, who they’re writing for, and their target audience.

A news journalist will have a very different style than a blogger, for example.

Elements of Any Writing Style

An author’s writing style is defined by 2 elements:

Voice: Voice is the personality you take on in your writing. It is the point of view through which you’re telling a story.

Tone: Tone is identified by the attitude that a piece of writing conveys. Writers create tone through elements like word choice, sentence structure, and grammar.

Types of Writing Styles

There are 4 main types of writing. While a writer will still incorporate their own voice in their writing, these different writing styles each have a purpose and specific audience, which dictates how an author should shape their copy:

Expository writing: Use an expository writing style to inform or explain a topic to readers. Examples of expository writing include technical writing, business writing, high school essays, and news articles.

Descriptive writing: Descriptive writing uses figurative language and sensory detail to describe a person, place, or thing to allow readers to create a picture in their mind. Descriptive writing is the style of writing most often found in poetry.

Narrative writing: Narrative style is writing that tells a story and includes elements often found in a novel or short story, like the main character, setting, and plot. It is most often used in fiction writing. Examples of narrative writing style include The Catcher in the Rye, The Color Purple, and The Lord of the Rings.

Persuasive writing: When you use a persuasive writing style, you communicate your opinion to try to influence the reader to adopt your stance on a subject. Examples of persuasive writing include cover letters, advertising campaigns, political speeches, and editorials.

Tips for Developing Your Writing Style

Whether you’re writing a novel or an article, you need a unique writing style that is distinctly you. Follow these general guidelines to help you find that style and develop your writing voice and tone:

Be original. Focus on the point you are trying to make and say it as only you can. Avoid using clichés—they lack creativity and originality and imply that you can’t think of anything else to write. Choose language that reflects both who you are and who you’re writing for.

Use your life experiences. The accumulation of unique experiences in your life have given you a distinct point of view. Incorporate that into your writing process. Let events in real life that have shaped you also inform your own work and voice.

Be present in your writing. Whether you’re developing a narrative storyline or writing a blog post, immerse readers in your story by being present when you write. Use an authentic tone. Use efficient syntax to effectively convey the details of your story.

Have an adaptable voice. While you should have a confident and consistent voice, writing styles should shift depending on what type of writing you’re doing. Different genres will work better with different types of writing styles. In creative writing, your personality will shift depending on the narrator’s perspective, and whether the story is told through first person or third person. Writing narratives with heavy dialogue, like screenplays, will require a writer to take on different styles with each character.

Step out of your comfort zone. Don't be afraid to experiment a little in your writing. While your style should reflect who you are, it should also stretch the limits of your literary personality. Incorporate a variety of literary devices to amplify your voice.

Read other authors. William Faulkner. Margaret Atwood. Stephen King. Ernest Hemingway. Each author has a unique voice, tone, and overall writing style they developed over the course of their writing career. Read some of your favorite authors as well as famous writers you’re not yet familiar with, and focus on how they use words and compose sentences to tell a story.

Write often. Good writers have a regular writing habit. The more you write, the more your writer’s voice will come into focus. One method many writers use is to have a morning journal. This daily writing ritual requires a three-page, longhand, stream-of-consciousness writing exercise first thing every morning. You’ll develop better writing skills and find your own unique style.

Hone your craft. Once you feel like you have a handle on your personal style, consider these other, more technical ways you can further improve your writing style:

Tips for Improving Your Writing Style

To be a better writer, you need to know how to be direct and clear, while also putting your own stamp on your writing. Follow these 8 writing tips for improving your style:

Be direct in your writing. Good writing is clear and concise. Lose filler words, like unnecessary adverbs and prepositional phrases, simply take up space and weigh a sentence down. Say exactly what you mean in the most direct way.

Choose your words wisely. There are many ways to write a sentence, and there are different words you can choose to convey the same idea. Always choose the simpler of two words. Use familiar vocabulary instead of lofty words from the English language. Simple words are more direct and easier for all readers to understand. Use a thesaurus if you need a little help finding a replacement or an easier way to say something.

Short sentences are more powerful than long sentences. A story loses steam with wordiness. Short sentences are easier to comprehend, something that readers appreciate. Avoid trying to pack too much into a line. Every sentence should contain one thought or idea.

Write short paragraphs. Keep your paragraphs short and manageable. Each one should consist of sentences that support the same idea. Short paragraphs are easier to digest. They also create a more visually appealing layout on the page. Academic writing often consists of lengthier paragraphs, as they need more information to support each theme. In less formal writing, shorter paragraphs are the norm.

Always use the active voice. Use the active voice and adhere to subject-verb-object sentence structure. It’s the most direct path to making your point. With the active voice, the subject is doing something, which is more exciting than the passive voice, in which something is being done to the subject. The passive voice might be grammatically correct, but it creates long, complex sentences and is a weaker way of presenting information.

Review and edit your work. Proofreading your first draft should be the first step in your editing process before you hand your story over to a professional editor. Tighten your writing, check your word choice and sentence structure, and hone your voice to improve your style.

Use a natural, conversational tone. Your writing style relies on your own, unique voice. Communicate in your comfort zone. In other words, write like you converse. Shape ideas with your original thoughts and voice, and do your best to avoid clichés. Your writing style should reflect your personality.

Read famous authors. Pick up any book by Mark Twain, and you’ll know it’s his writing simply by the tone of the story and the words he uses. Great writers put a stamp on their writing with a signature style. Along with works of fiction, read Strunk and White’s famous style guide The Elements of Style. Learning how other writers create their style. Then do the same with your own writing.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[lyraofthestarsss]

Blushing Game

(Mystreet boys x reader)

How long does it take to make them blush?

Garroth

- bro folds almost immediately lmao

- He definitely tries!! After all, he was used to putting on a face in front of others back in O’Khasis. Surely this wouldn’t be too different

- But there’s no hiding things from you

- All it takes is one sweet nickname for him to start melting

Dante

- He… also tries

- He’s definitely more competitive than Garroth. A few of your first few flirts are only met with smug smiles and comebacks

- It only takes a minute or so for all the compliments to finally get to him

- He looks away as he tries to hide his red face from you

Laurance

- for a moment, you thought this man was nearly unbreakable

- Nearly all of your flirts end with him shaking his head and smiling back at you

- He tells you “try harder, love” and “aww you can do better than that”

- If anything, you’re the one that starts getting flustered

- You start to lean closer, whispering in his ear

- You tell him you love him, how much he means to you, how you can’t imagine loving anyone else

- The closeness, along with how sincere you are, is what finally gets to him

- He curses under his breath as he leans his forehead on your shoulder

- He mutters that he loves you too, just loud enough for only you to hear

[clickety-clacker]

Been seeing so many cool Clickies on my dashboard since getting into GGG, I just had to take the time to draw a few of them- plus, it was a bit of a challenge to try new styles. A lot of these guys were also super influential to how I draw and even think about Click Clack on my own time, so you should definitely check them out! Names below the cut cus it got long heehoo

Top left: @malartsorte

Top middle (holding papers): @scribblelimbo

Top right: @wishgraanted

Leftmost middle: @beastwhimsy

Middle (peace sign!): @sootnuki

Rightmost middle: @molabuddy

Bottom left: @pespillo

Bottom middle: @artuurle

Bottom right: @modmad

I know I said it already, but all of yall are super cool and I had a lot of fun challenging myself to make this! Keep on being awesome 👍

[plagalkey]

my lovely talented friend wrote an F1 AU fic focused on oikage's time at red bull racing!!!

[ziekkfreak2-0]

Hhhey guys, wouldn't it be funny if after eating Cynessa's core, Uzi got fully possessed by Cyn.

Wouldn't that be so funny.

For clarification, I mean regular Cyn without the influence of the solver. The Cyn who lived so long as a puppet of the solver, watching the people she considered family turn against her.

But that's fine. It made sense, didn't it? Who would trust someone who has killed them thousands upon thousands of times. Death was her punishment, to which she accepted with open arms.

And yet.

She was still alive. Not in her own body, but still alive. Alive in a body that didn't malfunction, with legs that could stand up straight and a voice box that didn't involuntarily say her every action.

Her family didn't look at her like she was wrong. Like she was strange.

Like she was a monster.

Now, she is loved.

A chance to live the life she never had.

Was it so wrong to indulge a little?

[humming-fly]

the origin of meta-knight's self consciousness

[worldwidewandress]

the baggage

everyone comes into a relationship with baggage. most people drop it when carrying gets heavy. the right person helps you unpack. goes both ways. the question is - are you ready to unpack?

so you're either gonna trip over each other's stuff or you gonna unpack together. there's no other way. once you're ready for the latter, wash the dirty pieces first, handle them with care, then fold them nicely - in a shared closet.

home is built on all the stuff we carry around heavy trying to shake off or run away from, until we're ready to sit with them, unpack carefully, and eventually decorate our space with.

[ijustwannabecool]

Peonies & Plum Jam

Harry Styles x Reader AU

Summary… She’s the new vendor with shaky hands and perfectly labeled jars. He shows up with a single peony and says, “For good luck.” She thanks him, flustered, thinking it’s kindness. He doesn’t correct her.

A/N: This is the first blurb of a Farmers Market!Harry Styles vibes. Hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you wanna see next (: If you would like to donate, you can donate over on my Ko-Fi.

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy :)

✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩

The market opens at seven, but she’s there by six-thirty—fumbling with her gingham tablecloth, mumbling to herself about folding tables that hate her, and nervously rearranging jars in the soft morning light.

Each one’s lined up just right:

Plum & thyme. Strawberry lavender. Lemon basil.

All labeled by hand, sealed with love, and topped with kraft paper lids tied in twine.

She wipes her palms on her apron and tries to breathe. It’s her first day. She doesn’t know anyone here. The air smells like cinnamon bread and fresh herbs and a new kind of fear.

“You’re crooked.”

The voice startles her. Deep, but amused.

She looks up—and there he is.

Leaning casually against the edge of his stall across from hers, holding a bundle of peonies in one hand and a small pair of floral shears in the other. His stall is a burst of color: wildflowers, dahlias, tulips, and little chalk signs poking out between buckets of stems.

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

He points to her display. “Your sign. It’s tilted.”

Sure enough, her hand-painted chalkboard that says “Y/N’s Jams & Preserves” is hanging at a wonky slant.

“Oh. Right.” She straightens it quickly, cheeks going warm. “Thanks.”

He nods. Then walks over without being asked.

“First Tuesday?” he says, already crouching to tighten the table leg she gave up on ten minutes ago.

“Is it that obvious?”

“You’re wearing the face of someone who packed a toolkit and forgot it in the car.”

“…I did,” she admits.

He grins, then stands, brushing dust from his palms. “Happens to the best of us. Here.”

He reaches into the bundle in his hand and pulls out a single flower. A peony, soft pink with ruffled edges and a long green stem.

She stares at it.

“What’s this for?”

“Good luck.”

She hesitates. Then takes it carefully, fingers brushing his.

“Thanks,” she says again, softer now.

He smiles like he knows something she doesn’t. “You’re welcome, Jam Girl.”

She laughs—actually laughs—and shakes her head. “Flower Boy.”

He raises a brow, mock offended. “Is that what we’re doing? Nicknames?”

“Seems only fair.”

He salutes her with his shears and returns to his stall. She tucks the peony into the rim of her first basket, right beside the plum jars. It looks oddly perfect there.

The market hums to life around them.

Customers trickle in. The sun rises.

And across the path, Flower Boy glances her way every so often—just long enough for her to pretend she didn’t notice.

(But she does.)

And she smiles.

Because maybe this Tuesday won’t be so scary after all.

⸻

Let me know what you guys wanna see next from this Harry series. (:

[runraerun]

Heard a random 90s rock song & it legit got me thinking about Steve & Billy meeting again in their twenties... Like what if s3 never happened? After the fight at the Byers, Billy kept his head down & avoided Steve? I see him as being consumed by a sense of guilt/shame & yet still not being able to apologise until, that is, the day of their graduation when he's suddenly overcome with a need to just get it off his chest. He's been crushing on this guy since he got to Hawkins & he blew whatever chance he had of even just a friendship with him, but it doesn't matter now cos he's getting out of this shithole as quickly as possible, but he can't have this guilt gnawing at him any longer...So maybe he deliberately makes sure he bumps into steve at some point and mutters out a: "Harrington. We need to talk." And sucking on a cigarette like his life depends on it, hands shaking, barely making eye contact, Billy gives the world's shittiest apology. And it feels like his heart's gonna beat out of his chest & Steve's just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face, before saying something like: "yeah, man. I'm sorry for that night too." (In my mind either Max let drop something about Billy's homelife or Steve has deduced something's not right). Anyway. Billy finally feels like he's able to breathe again for the first time in months UNTIL steve unknowingly utters the world's most devastating sentence: "I think we could've been friends if, y'know, shit hadn't gone down the way it did...oh well." And steve gives a sort of little grin and a laugh as if what he said wasn't a major deal. "Heard you're headed back to California?" Steve asks, and Billy's barely able to nod, still struck dumb by Steve's previous offhand comment. And maybe someone calls Steve's name and suddenly that's it. The moment is broken & Steve's leaving with a "Guess I'll see you around, Hargrove... or not" and a goofy little salute. And Billy thought he'd feel better. But in fact he feels worse. Because holy shit. Steve just said they could have been friends. And that's gonna haunt him for years....

Cue a few years later and they run into each other in Chicago (listen, the idea of Billy returning to California only to realise it no longer feels like home and maybe it never did consumes me), but yeah. They bump into each other accidentally and holy shit. Steve Harrington. He looks almost exactly the same. Other than the fact he's grown out the mullet and holy shit, are those highlights in his hair??? And billy's stunned by what looks like a genuine grin of delight that crosses Steve's face once he recognises who he's walked into. And maybe they chat for a little while; Billy doesn't even know what he's saying he's so in shock at meeting his highschool crush again. But just like the last time someone calls steve's name and of course steve has a girlfriend, of course he does (joke's on billy, cos it's just robin) and suddenly the moment's broken again and steve's walking away with a casual "it was good to see you again, billy" and billy is gripped with the thought that he can't let steve slip through his fingers again. how many people get a second chance like this? he can feel his old highschool crush flickering back to life where it's buried deep in his chest and maybe steve will never like billy like that but holy shit. billy still remembers the day steve said that maybe they could have been friends if things had been different and things are different now so why not take a chance??? and billy has never felt so brave or so fucking scared in his life as he does when he steps forward and calls after steve: "Hey Harrington! Wanna meet up and catch up properly some time?" and Steve's attention is back on him and goddamn. Billy didn't even realise how much he missed those eyes until now. ANyway!! This got away from me!! But 90s Harringrove pls and thank. Also the song i heard was lightning crashes by live. like the lyrics aren't even that appropriate but there's such a nostalgic feel to it.

oh my god. OH MY GOD.

Anon, this whole message has got me in a chokehold. Like, it’s such a direct hit. 🎯🎯🎯Billy choking on an apology because he’s so painfully unfamiliar with the very concept, the absolute devastation of hearing the potential of being friends with Steve was there, but he blew it, the PINING… urgh. How Steve can unknowingly fatally wound Billy just like that.

AND THEN THE HIGHLIGHTS ARE YOU JOKING?!

I hope that things get away from you many many more times, because this was incredible.

Okay okay. Now, if I may, I will now attempt to match your freak.

ahem

—

By some serendipitous fuckin’ miracle, Steve agrees to exchange digits with him. They couldn’t find a napkin or any other god forsaken scrap of paper to write on, so they just scribbled their numbers down onto each other's arm. Billy was so fucking on edge that when he was peering down at the pale expanse of Steve’s mole-speckled forearm he damn near forgot his own phone number. Jesus, he’s a wreck…

At least whenever it comes to Harrington, anyway. Dude has like, Billy’s own personal strain of kryptonite woven in through his DNA or some shit. It would explain why his hands always get clammy and his knees feel like they’re made of fucking jello every time Steve flashed those pearly whites his way.

Christ, Hargrove, get it together…

Billy had spent the rest of the week running a finger along the wobbly looking numbers, fading more and more every day. Before they fade completely through, he finally finds his balls and dials Steve’s number.

A girl picks up, which… well, Billy knows Steve has a girlfriend. He didn’t know they’re living together though… but whatever, it don’t change shit.

“Steve around?” He asks, clenching the receiver in his fist so tightly that he can hear the plastic creak.

“Who’s asking?” The girl says, sounding pleasant despite her words. Sandy-haired, freckles. Cute, Billy remembers. Harrington always did go for the cute ones.

“Billy,” he answers, “Billy Hargrove. He’ll know who I am.”

“Oh, Billy,” The girl’s voice draws out his name like it’s an answer to a question that she’d been stuck on. “It’s about time you called.”

Which. That…

What the hell does that mean?

While Billy’s puzzling it out, she hears the girl holler for Steve, telling him Billy is on the line. His name is said with a weird amount of familiarity.

Billy switches ears and shakes out the stiffness in his hand. Focuses on breathing evenly instead of the steady flow of questions suddenly piling up in his head.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice, clear as a bell, asks from the other line.

Billy clears his throat, “hey, man.”

“Hey. I was just about to call you.” Steve says, doing that thing where he so casually drops bombs onto Billy’s world, leveling his cities with a passing word.

“Beat you to it.” Billy grins, and hears the little huff of a laugh on the other line.

“Always so competitive,” Steve teases, and Billy can just hear the smile. It makes his chest ache. It’s the sweet kind of ache, though. “Haven’t you ever heard it’s not winning that matters, it’s taking part?”

Billy shakes his head even though Steve can’t see him and sneers, “sounds like some shit losers say to each other.”

That gets a genuine laugh from Steve, all breathy and sharp, and Billy feels himself laughing along from the sheer thrill of getting Steve going.

“Jesus, I forgot how much of an asshole you are.” Steve sighs, but there’s no heat behind it. Just shit talk. It’s fine. What guys do.

“Yeah yeah. Can’t change my spots, or whatever.” Billy mumbles as he scuffs his boot along the floor. Fucking antsy. Jonesing for a cigarette. Just get on with it you piece of shit. He takes a breath and then takes the plunge. “So listen, we should hang out this weekend. I know a few good bars where we could catch up. Maybe get into some trouble.”

Steve makes a scoffing sound, “what kind of trouble are we talking here, Hargrove?”

His heart jackrabbits in his chest. He loves this part. Billy brings the receiver just a little closer to his lips. “The fun kind, Harrington.” He murmurs, voice pitched low.

There’s a brief, unbearably tense couple of seconds where Steve doesn’t speak. He just lets Billy dangle like a hooked fish. Static from the line. He doesn’t breathe. Then.

“Friday at 8?” Steve tosses the offer out, real casual-like. And with it, Billy feels the muscles around his neck and shoulders relax, like he got shot with a tranquilizer dart. Steve continues, “You wanna meet at the same coffee shop from before? I live in the apartment building just across the street from it.”

Fancy, Billy thinks. Of fuckin’ course. All the buildings on that block are the high end kind; with door men and balconies and working elevators. Billy only ever finds himself in that leg of the city when a pipe bursts or a sink gets clogged and Billy gets called in to fix it. Of course Steve’s living in the lap of luxury here in Chicago. Mommy and Daddy’s only child. Not that it’s his fault, Billy supposed. Some people are just born luckier than others.

“Sure, rich boy,” Billy grins, “bring your appetite though, I’m buying nachos.”

Steve heartily agrees. Because obviously. Who the hell could say no to that? Rich or poor, nachos are nachos.

It ain’t a date. It ain’t. It’s just two guys hanging out, y’know, catching up. For old times sake. Getting into some trouble, like Billy said. It ain’t date.

So what if he calls and asks Heather to pre-approve his outfit when everything he owns suddenly looks stupid on him? And who cares that he dabs double the amount of cologne onto his chest and triple down his pants—Billy likes to smell good, it ain’t a big deal. He wears a silver chain around his neck, the one that matches his earring, and undoes a few more buttons than usual to show it off. It’s cold this time of year but he figures they’ll be inside for most of the night anyway. Drinking, shooting pool, tossing darts. Shit like that.

Billy chain smokes as he waits outside of the coffee shop, sucking back one cigarette after the other, trying not to think about how he’s about to see Steve fucking Harrington again; the one who got away. Or, one one Billy never even fucking had a chance with in the first place, more like. He keeps wondering if he’s making a mistake. If he should just go home, forget he ever ran into that long legged, poofy haired, Bambi-eyed—

But then Steve’s there, handing Billy some froo-froo drink from inside (somehow they’d missed each other???) before he starts giving Billy a hard time for still not having a proper winter coat. Steve’s got highlights in his hair and eyeliner on his lower lashline and a spot of foam from his drink on the tip of his nose and Jesus fuck.

Billy’s in trouble.

[kitxi-official]

Another wallpaper fanart for @bapple117's fic The Theraprist After chapter 30 released I spent about 8-10 minutes pacing around my house in excitement. To say I love this fic is an understatement

[thoughtkick]

A Dream is only a Dream -until you decide to make it real

Harry Style

[fishyartist]

Ui idea tests, thrown together bc im eepy. Was planning on doing more but I spent all my days energy on the second one oops