"There is always a catch. Life is a catch! I suggest you catch it while you can." ✧ A. ✧ Europe ✧ I like villains ✧ Grey Warden blog @icy-warden ✧ in Dragon Age hell for next 500 years °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
I’m noticing an increase in new fic writers on AO3 who…uh…mayy not know how to format their fics correctly..so here is a quick and VERY important tip
Using a random fic of mine as example..
The left example: ✅✅✅
The right example: ❌❌❌
Idk how many times I’ve read a good fic summary and been so excited to read before clicking on it and being met with an ugly wall of text. When I see a huge text brick with zero full line breaks my eyes blur and I just siiiigh bc either I click out immediately or I grin and bear it…it’s insufferable!
If a new character speaks, you need a line break. If you notice a paragraph is becoming too large, go ahead and make a line break and/or maybe reconfigure the paragraph to flow better. I’m not a pro writer or even a huge fic writer but…please…ty…
This is a good thing to keep in mind! It is often and unfortunate that a really good fic doesn’t get love because its formatting makes it too difficult to read!
AO3's posting form has two modes: Rich Text and HTML. the vast majority of people write in Rich Text editors, aka any normal word processing software (MS Word, Google Docs, Apple Pages, what have you). but when you first open it, the posting form opens in HTML view. if you paste formatted text into HTML view, it erases every piece of formatting, including paragraph spacing.
this is an easy fix. when you go to post your fic, make sure the posting form looks like this:
not like this:
and please spread the word! this is an important piece of computer literacy that nobody is teaching to the new generations and they deserve to know
its probably a normal sign for the economy that all of my adulthood fantasies are like "imagine having your own kitchen living room and bathroom to decorate" "what if i could get on a train" "maybe one day i could purchase a sturdy pair of shoes" "i should save and invest in a single bicycle"
“Have you been awake that entire time, $rname?”
$rname folds $rtheir hands across $rtheir lap, slightly self-conscious. “Not exactly.”
“$crthey slept right next to you,” $xname immediately says, earning a sharp scowl from $rname undermined slightly by the deepening redness beneath $rtheir skin.
$aname rolls $atheir eyes with amused exasperation, while $dname pretends the conversation isn’t happening at all.
“This is the healer’s tent,” $rname protests, fidgeting with the coins hanging down from $rtheir belt to avoid your gaze. “Where else would I rest?”
You look around the tent, and sure enough, you spot another bedroll less than an arm’s length away from yours. After all the magic $rname expended yesterday, $rthey must have been exhausted, and yet $rthey still insisted to try and keep watch over you.
“I only mean to say that it’s adorable,” $xname says with a mischievous smirk. “Though, why bother with the separate bedrolls at this point?”
$rname sputters. “$xname!”
“What? I’m only thinking about sleeping! Don’t blame me for your own filthy mind—”
A ROMANCE
“I’m fine now,” you try to assure $athem, though the words come out weak and unconvincing. “Really. I barely felt it.”
$aname’s expression hardens, a flicker of frustration crossing $atheir features. “You barely felt it because you were too busy passing out.”
“Better me passing out than all of us being torn to pieces,” you counter.
$aname stares at you for a long moment, looking like $athey wants to argue but being unable to because $athey knows you’re right. Then, slowly, deliberately, $athey reaches out and takes your hand, lifting it to $atheir lips and kissing the knuckles—once, twice, three times, each press making the magic within you spark across your skin with a tender warmth.
$cathey presses the back of your hand to $atheir cheek, fingers nearly too tight around your palm.
“I want to tell you not to do it again,” $athey says quietly, $atheir voice carrying the urgency of a plea. “But you’re right, you saved all of our lives. I only wish it didn’t have to come at a cost you had to pay for us.”
“For you,” you correct. “I’d pay it a hundred times over for you.”
X ROMANCE
A hand fists into the back of your cloak, yanking you backward so forcefully you nearly lose your footing.
“Don't even think about it,” $xname speaks directly into your ear. $cxthey steps in front of you, $xtheir pale shamshir already drawn and seeming nearly to glow in the dying light.
“$xname,” you start, but $xthey interrupts.
“I’ll be fine.” $cxthey doesn't look back at you, keeping $xtheir eyes fixed on [REDACTED]. “I’ll come back to you. I promise.”
Your throat tightens, fear for $xtheir safety clashing with your faith in $xthem. “I’m holding you to it.”
$xname casts a single quick smile at you over $xtheir shoulder, then turns to $rname. “$rname, take $name and get to safety! Do not let $them out of your sight!”
The wish to stand beside $xthem burns in your chest, but the reality of your position forces you to yield. You let $rname’s hands guide you away, the sound of $xname shouting orders to the Crescent Blades ringing in your ears as you retreat.
D ROMANCE
Whenever the sun dips below the horizon and camp is set up, you find yourself alone in your tent, despite wishing it were otherwise. You know $dname cannot do something so reckless as slip inside and spend the night with you, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting it.
Instead, your interactions are relegated to the daylight hours, hidden in plain sight. It shows in the way $dname’s mount always seems to drift closest to yours on the road, and the quiet way $dtheir eyes search you for signs of fatigue during brief rests. $cdthey asks how you’re feeling with regularity, asking if you have need of anything, offering you $dtheir waterskin or portions of $dtheir rations—one might think $dname was your servant instead of your general.
Yet, when night falls and you are left alone with the cooling air and the lingering exhaustion of the travel, the absence of $dthem leaves a hollow in your chest.
That is, until the third morning.
You wake before dawn, the air inside the tent the coldest it has ever been. Unable to sleep, you pull your thickest cloak over your shoulders and step outside, intending to seek out the warmth of a campfire.
You freeze just outside the entrance.
There, sitting on the cold, hard earth with $dtheir back resting heavily against the wooden support pole of your tent, is $dname. $cdtheir chin is tucked into $dtheir chest, arms crossed tightly over $dtheir chestplate, breathing slowly and deeply in $dtheir sleep.
1px warmup doodle, but also a constellation map of loam's scars acquired over the course of the campaign. and smushing all 8ft of him into the canvas dimension constraints
why r callouts always like "please dont harass this person and dont go after them. anyway heres every single detail of their life gathered by stalking and their private profiles for all to see"
