Writing Reblog - Tumblr Posts

writing tip:

if you push buttons on a keyboard, letters will appear on the screen. and with that power you can do anything


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Im bored so heres an ask game lmao

🌍- what fandoms do you make for?

🪐- how many aus do you have rn? Do they have names?

🥀- do you like/ write angst?

💐- do you like/ write fluff

🌸- which do you prefer? (angst v fluff)

🎧- what kind if music/sound do you listen to while writing?

🔪- have you ever written explicit fics?

🎶- do you have music that fits the mood of what you are writing?

✍️- how often do you title your fics? Is it hard to title?

✏️- do you have a certain writing style?

❤️- do you have a fav fanfic? (From any fandom?)

😎- what are your fav personal hcs?

💰- do you take requests from a certain time or always?

⏰- do you give yourself a time limit?

💻- how often do you write?

📝- do you have a current wip?

💫- do you have a fav au, personal or something else?

☄️- fav aus/tropes?

💪- whats ur favorite personal work?

📣- RANT!

🥰- rec a friends/mutual(s) fic

✨- self love! rec one of ur own works! Art or fic!

Go make ur mutuals happy and send some asks


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A two panelled image of a man sitting in the drivers seat of a car. In the first panel, the man says "Write it badly, dude" and in the second panel the man adds "but write it" with a radial blur and zoom effect. I edited this image - the original version said "take it easy, dude. But take it"

Telling myself this every day here's a meme


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1 year ago

i'm a horrible writer but-

keefitz fanfic :)

i kind of hate it tbh but here it is :D (only chapter one, that's as far as i've gotten so far)

under the cuttt

TW: minor swearing <3

Fitz stared at the ceiling of his room, shifting slightly to get into a more comfortable position. He heard footsteps outside of his door and groaned. 

"Biana, I swear to the stars, if you're trying to steal more of my skin care products, I will put a lock on my door." He sat up, surprised to see it was not his beauty-product stealing sister, but instead a grinning Keefe. 

"You know, maybe I'll steal some of those skincare products, Fitzy..."

Fitz rolled his eyes at his best friend's comment, sitting up in his bed. "Hello you too, Keefe. Why are you here? I thought tou and Sophie were doing something..?" He asked, leaning back as he waved Keefe over.

"Oh, you know, just dropping in to make sure my bestie hasn't died on me." Keefe shrugged, falling back onto Fitz's bed. "You sounded pretty sick the other day, y'know."

Fitz remembered talking to Keefe the other day- the conversation... hadn't ended so pleasantly.

"So... Fitzy boy, what've you been up to that made you look like hell?"

"What!? I don't look like hell!"

"Deny it all you want- you've got  huge bags under your eyes and your voice sounds off. You pulled another all-nighter, didn't you?"

"Well, uh... not exactly..."

"What do you mean not exactly?"

"...two allnighters. I only slept for an hour the other day as well..."

"EXCUSE ME!? Fitzy, you HAVE to take better care of yourself! That's stupid- three days, only an hour of sleep."

"I know it's stupid, it's just...I haven't been able to sleep, okay? Can you just drop it?"

"No, no, no, I am NOT dropping this, Fitzy. You couldn't sleep, or wouldn't? Were you up all night thinking about a certain blonde somebody..?"

"What? No! That's- no- no!"

"Not convincing me there, Golden Boy."

"Oh, by all the stars, just drop it, Keefe!"

"You need to get more sleep!"

"You need to stop poking into my business!"

"It's my business if you're harming yourself by not getting enough sleep."

"Keefe- drop it!"

"No, Fitzy, you need more sleep, I'm not going to just drop it. You're going to burn yourself out."

"Shut up! SHUT. UP. I don't need you going on and on about how horrible my sleep schedule is, can you just let me handle things by myself for once!?"

"Fitzy-"

"No. Just...just go, Keefe. Please."

"Okay."

Fitz had been trying to put the memories of the conversation behind, but of course- being his stressed, emotional self- he couldn't. He groaned as he leaned back into his bed, glancing at Keefe. 

"I've gotten sleep since the other day, if that's what you're asking. Only four hours the other night, but last night I got six." Fitz finally said, although Keefe just rolled his eyes.

"Oh, wow, such an amazing sleep schedule!"

"Shut up." Fitz's voice was laced with mild amusement, however. He didn't have the energy to be irritated. "What did you really come here for, Keefe? I doubt you'd abandon your project with Sophie for nothing."

"You really underestimate me, Fitzy...it's disappointing, really!"

"Keefe!"

"Alright, alright." Keefe chuckled. "I came to give you something. Grizel was on edge today, though. She stole what I have for you and looked over it for a full five minutes before letting me in, y'know. I was scared she and Sandor had swapped places." He took an object out of his pocket, offering it to Fitz.

Fitz took a good look at the object, realising what it was. "I asked you if you could look for this...years ago..!" He gasped. It was a small glass locket, with a picture of him and Keefe with their arms around each other's shoulders inside. "I lost it when I was with you over two years ago...how the fuck did you find it!?" 

Keefe chuckled at Fitz's reactions. "There, there, language, Fitzy! I found this just the other day, remember when you made me promise if I found the locket, I'd bring it back to you? Wasn't gonna break that promise, was I?" He grinned. 

Fitz took the locket from Keefe, astonished. He couldn't believe Keefe had been able to find this, after the locket had been lost for two whole years. "I- this is- wow..."

He didn't know why he was reacting so strongly to this, it was just that... Fitz could remember clearly the day Keefe had given him this locket.

"Hey, Fitzy. It's been a whole year, y'know. A whole year since I found you sitting in the cafeteria all alone, trying to work on an assignment."

"I found YOU, remember? I don't know how you weren't caught holding a GULON of all things."

"Well, you know what happened after."

"Oh, I know all right. But what were you saying before?"

"Technically, it's our friendiversary. I think."

"Wait, it is?"

"So I got you a present!"

"It's...a locket. It's beautiful, Keefe!"

"Are you talking about me or the locket, Fitzy?"

"Can this be used to choke somebody?"

"You would never!"

"I have a feeling I just might."

"Aww, I thought I was your bestie, Fitzy! Anyways, where's YOUR gift?"

"Gift? I- uh-'

"Don't worry, Fitzy, I was-"

"Here! Flowers. I know you like daisies, here's a bunch of them!"

"...you just got those from the ground."

"No witnesses."

"Except me."

"You can't be your own witness! HAPPY FRIENDIVERSARY!"

The memory still made Fitz laugh when he thought about it. He and Keefe had been twelve, turning thirteen, then. They had been young and innocent.

"Thank you." Fitz shot Keefe a sincere smile. "I was so upset the day I lost this...my first friendiversary gift..."

Keefe chuckled. "Oh, you getting attached to a locket. Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey, I wasn't attached!" Fitz protested. "It had sentimental value!"

"Oh, yeah, because you were a lonely, sad child back then."

"I wasn't lonely! I had Biana, you know."

"Siblings don't count."

"Oh, come on."

This was how many conversations with Keefe seemed to go- tease, sarcasm, a light joke, an attempt to get Keefe to be serious.... but Fitz couldn't deny that he liked it.

"Sooo...." Keefe had a smirk on his face. This couldn't be good. "Those skincare products...didn't know you used those beauty products..." He grinned. "How often do you use these, dare I ask?"

Fitz groaned again. "You're the worst." He complained. "I- uh... I have a nightly routine.... and a morning routine."

Keefe burst into laughter. "Of course you do. Plus haircare, right? You are the craziest person I've ever met, Fitz Vacker."

Fitz rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, you spend half an hour on your hair each morning! You can't say anything."

Keefe placed a hand over his heart, feigning mock offence. "How dare you accuse me of such felonies, Fitzy!"

"Felonies indeed."


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10 months ago

Thank you, thank you, and thank you again for this beautiful work!

Everyone, come praise this!

I like to imagine that Sam Vimes, instead of dying properly, instead got minor godhood. All watchmen at some point thank him for his actions, his actions a ripple across the Disc. There's precedent in the Duchess of Borogravia, and in his arc. He keeps getting promotions, and hates each one. What higher status could he be unwillingly raised to than divinity, eternally watching the watchman?

Anyways, that's just a headcanon i've got


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11 months ago

I think one of the greatest strengths in Disco Elysium's writing regarding the worldbuilding is that any time a character does some exposition on just about anything, it's not merely a dictionary definition (as encyclopedia might tell it), but something that reflects on the speaker as much as it does on what's spoken about.

You can ask characters about even the simplest things, such as "What's a scab?", and the game doesn't tell you "A scab is a worker hired by companies when their normal employees are on strike." The game tells you what a scab is THROUGH the perspective of a Union man like Manana, and the truth becomes distorted through his perspective. So even if you know what a strike is before going into the game, it's STILL worth it to ask the scab leader "What's a strike?" because his response won't just tell you what a strike is, but perhaps even more importantly, what kind of man he is.

I think a trap that a lot of fiction taking place in a different world with a different history, whether it's fantasy, science fiction, or something noiresque like DE, is that the author "knows" what the objective truth is, and often uses a character to tell the objective truth to the audience. It ends up reading like a history textbook. The characters don't FEEL anything about the history; it's just a fact. The characters are almost unimpacted BY that history despite the elaboration happening at all telegraphing the history is, in fact, and important part of the story.

It's a really engaging way of writing dialogue, because the reader isn't just memorizing rote facts, but is trying to distinguish between which parts of the dialogue are a consequence of the speaker's bias, and which parts are the objective truth. It's a great tool to muddy the waters about what's actually good and bad. If two characters have differing opinions about a topic, who's right? Could both of these viewpoints be true at once? Is one party actively sowing misinformation? Has the truth been grossly distorted by the passage of time?


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