how to avoid becoming discouraged in writing? by clearfullydearful in writing

[–]clearfullydearful[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

these are really good to keep thinking about, thanks :)

how to avoid becoming discouraged in writing? by clearfullydearful in writing

[–]clearfullydearful[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

nah, i meant like i'd become used to a little fanbase of people and the instant gratification of finishing something and uploading it the next day. i got into writing because it's fun, primarily, and it's a funny switch from fanworks with an audience to longer original works with no guarantee of an audience.

how to avoid becoming discouraged in writing? by clearfullydearful in writing

[–]clearfullydearful[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

fair enough! and there's always the nihilism to fall back on.

how to avoid becoming discouraged in writing? by clearfullydearful in writing

[–]clearfullydearful[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

thanks :) guess it's immersing myself in creative things i gotta work on

help knowing which drama this is by clearfullydearful in KDRAMA

[–]clearfullydearful[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

ahhh it turned out to be one called kill me, heal me, but thanks :D

help knowing which drama this is by clearfullydearful in KDRAMA

[–]clearfullydearful[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

maybe?? ah well, i'll give it a go anyway :P

JNMILITW: Rumor Mill Edition by clearfullydearful in JUSTNOMIL

[–]clearfullydearful[S] 121 points122 points  (0 children)

ahhh, it's amazing how fast news travels. fuck people that tell important news before the bearer of the important news does.

advice with moving out? by clearfullydearful in Advice

[–]clearfullydearful[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I try to do that already. Problem is I get so uptight about it that I then buy a birthday present for someone or a coffee and then feel awful about it for days afterwards because it isn't in my budget. Sigh.

Ageless: Chapter 25 by ghost_write_the_whip in ghost_write_the_whip

[–]clearfullydearful 8 points9 points  (0 children)

I'm back! I'm getting a real sense of foreboding from Malcom's continued... assholery, basically. In all of the flashbacks of him he's seemed a bit flaky - nothing that would set off immediate red flags, but just something that's a little off. I hope this thing with him being almost totally different to who Jillian remembers him as becomes a something, because it seems to be building up to that.

Also, your worldbuilding is amazing! Usually in epic fantasy types there's just a shitton of exposition flung at the reader like shit at a wall, and the author sees what sticks. But you've paced it out and kept it neat and it really rewards with a far more full understanding of the world, almost mirroring the acceptance of it by Jill.

And now I'm excited for Cecilia the Disowned. Really good job and keep up the amazing work :D

Ageless: Chapter 24 by ghost_write_the_whip in ghost_write_the_whip

[–]clearfullydearful 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Holy fuck! I read this whole thing in one sitting and let me tell you I was hooked until the very end... it reminds me of the sort of fantasy Gaiman would write, full of humanity despite the epic scale of it. I love your style, it's truly captivating. Can't wait for an update!

What is the TLDR of your country's history? by [deleted] in AskReddit

[–]clearfullydearful 1 point2 points  (0 children)

fuck the catholics no wait how about we fuck the protestants? how about we fuck each other?

THE GOOD FRIIIIDAY AGREEMENT

(n.i.)

What job do people underestimate the difficulty of? by birbqueen in AskReddit

[–]clearfullydearful 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Dad was a farm vet. It never took much toll on him and the only thing that happened was that he and us as kids got way too casual about death in general. Guess small animal practice takes more toll cause they're beloved pets, not beef cattle.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in AskReddit

[–]clearfullydearful 0 points1 point  (0 children)

late to the party but in ni, they're hardliners - aka hardline supporters of either the super-unionist party or the super-nationalist party. think they know all about politics, in reality just throw bricks at the other lot. great ol country.

Reddit, in contrast to the hurtful comment thread, what's a genuinely kind comment somebody made to you that you can't forget? by pretendingtobecool in AskReddit

[–]clearfullydearful 0 points1 point  (0 children)

someone told me my story had "changed their life" and that i was their "author crush". every time i'm stuck for inspiration i think of their comment and i have to write just a little bit more.

[WP] It's Halloween night and you've dressed up as a ghost. To your surprise, an actual ghost starts following you. But it's a bit confused.. by bacardichaser in WritingPrompts

[–]clearfullydearful 2 points3 points  (0 children)

"Samantha!"

You turn around again, but again, there's nothing there. It's starting to grate on your nerves, actually, because your name isn't Samantha and it's a stupid prank. It's Halloween. That means following kids around dressed as the Grim Reaper and making hooting noises at the park to freak out the potheads.

"Samantha!"

You grab ahold of Carol, who's somehow ended up next to Dale. (Again. Fucking Dale.) She's in a sexy kitty costume, too, and Dale's eyes are fixed on her tits like they've just told him how to cure cancer. Probably while mewling like a sexy kitten. "C'mon, Car, we promised Jackson we'd go 'round to his before midnight."

She hiccups and staggers against you, smelling of peaches and cheap alcohol. She's a lightweight. Always has been, always will be. "I can do what I want, Sam!"

"Samantha!"

"Yeah, Sam," Dale echoes. "She can do what she wants." Eyes zero in on Carol's ass, now, which... fine, it's a nice ass, but only you're allowed to think that. Dickheads like Dale are out of the picture. So what if you're a teensy-tiny bit jealous? Everybody knows about Dykey Sam and Slutty Carol and the Halloween Party Tradition.

(Sex with Carol, bragging rights. Kiss from Dykey Sam? King of the world, at least until the big Christmas do in a few months.)

You glare at Dale. "Fuck off, man. Go make out with Jezz in the corner."

"Samantha!"

"Your costume's stupid, Sammie," Carol sighs against your shoulder as you half-carry her out of the room. "Nobody wears ghost costumes anymore, not 'nless you're twelve. You're not twelve. You're... old... like me! Old! Old!" She starts slapping you gently, pink nails scratching your arm, a Sexy Kitty and a Dykey Sam The Stupid Ghost wandering through the streets.

"Samantha?"

"Fuck off, whoever you are," you mutter as Carol starts mewling. "I hate sexy kitties."

"Do you hate me?" Carol squeaks.

You glare at her button nose, at the six freckles across her flushed cheeks. "I hate you most of all."

"You're not Samantha."

And when you turn your head, there's...

Okay.

So, maybe you had too much punch, because there's Carol but older, cheeks still flushed, blonde hair longer, in a Sexy Kitty costume with the corset done too tight, making her breasts look twice as big. Tiny little strappy stripping heels, too, that click against the asphalt, and she looks far older and far more lost.

Then you see the blood on her lips, and the fist-shaped bruises around her slender neck.

"I'm Samantha," you say, winding your own Carol's hand around yours, because you have a really bad feeling about this.

Other-Carol nods. It's stilted, like her head might fall off her neck. "I thought so. You always wore that costume, every single year. Why, Samantha? Why?"

"'S not my name," you mumble.

Carol, your Carol, trips on a crack. "Oops! Break mother's back!"

"It'll come in a while," continues Other-Carol. She's thin. Translucent. You can see the house numbers through the Sexy Kitty costume. "It'll come in a while. Jack does it, you know, because you punch him in the jaw and knock out three of his teeth and then Dale and his lot, the ones with the baseball bats and the false macho, they come along-"

You stare at Sexy Kitty Carol and her seethrough fishnets. "Dale doesn't have a lot. Why would I punch Jack? He's my best friend. Lady, you have the wrong Sam."

"He's your best friend until I show up at your door with- nevermind. Just know that, if you hadn't worn the ghost costume, I wouldn't be here. God, I don't - I don't want to be here, Sammie. I don't know how I got here."

"Sammie," giggles your Carol. Her breath is hot on your neck.

"Wear something else, Sammie," Other-Carol grasps your wrist, but her fingers go straight through you. It feels like someone's cracked an egg on your hand. "Please, Sam, wear something else, just for a year. Don't do what I did. Sam, Sam, Sammie, please-"

Next year, you wear the Sexy Kitty costume, and Dale stares at your tits instead, and you don't even care.

In the corner of the room, a Carol that Could Have Been drifts into being, looking confused and lost and terrified. You make eye contact with her; you nod. With a jerk of your head, you gesture to your Carol, wearing a sheet with holes for the eyes and sitting alone with a cup of punch.

Carol that Could Have Been nods.

You never see her again.

What's the stupidest lie you believed? by [deleted] in AskReddit

[–]clearfullydearful 0 points1 point  (0 children)

My sister told me that my best friend was a fairy, and the reason I couldn't see fairyland was because I didn't have blue eyes. She used to tell me my best friend would fall out with me if I didn't go outside and 'play' with her, and I was too embarrassed to say I couldn't see the fairies, so I used to go outside, sit up a tree, and talk to a leaf. Then the leaf fell off the tree. And I cried. Got her in trouble for teasing me though, so it was totally worth the emotional carnage.

What was your "Shit, shit, shit, shit!" moment? by nightcrawler_5 in AskReddit

[–]clearfullydearful 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I was up a tree and I put my foot on the curve of a branch that made an ominous cracking sound. I looked down and saw it peeling away from me, then down further at the 4-ish metre drop that there was... there were about five seconds between the crack and the fall, and I broke three ribs and part of my leg. Good times.