Write!

Elliot stares down the blank page as if waiting for words to appear on the screen. A light ‘swoosh’ was heard and fae didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

“Just write!” a voice whines. Elliot glances over to see Magnus with faer hands on faer hips, leaning forward slightly - pout on faer face.

“Magnus, it’s not that easy.”

“Yes, it is. Just retell events like they’d happened, but the events are fictional. Nothing to it.” Elliot groans and lays faer head over the back of the chair, catching sight of Magnus in faer peripheral vision.

 “I know how it works in theory, but it’s easier said than done. Every idea I’ve had just goes up in flames before I even get a single sentence down.” Magnus rolls faer eyes.

“Those ideas were all wonderful, how many times must I repeat this?”

Another ‘swoosh,’ can be heard, “I believe that the problem here is your ever-present perfectionism. It causes you to see the quality of all that you create in an altered view, believing that it could always be better. While an idea may very well hold a lot of potential, your perfectionistic thinking gives up, only seeing that the idea has some areas that are not fully formed. This sort of thinking can be quite harmful, considering that some of the best works have been created by those who just go for it instead of endlessly procrastinating and eventually throwing in the metaphorical towel.”

“Hey there, Eddie,” Elliot greets, watching Edna’s eyelids droop in disdain, expression remaining otherwise impassive.

“Good evening, Elliot.”

Swoosh.

“Are you guys having a party without me?” a pastel-clad figure says with a goofy grin.

“Reese!” Elliot exclaims happily. Fae tried to love all of faer sides, but would admit fae were partial to faer Morality.

“Hey there, lovely! What’s going on here and why wasn’t I invited?” despite their words, their voice has a tone of cheer to it and is devoid of any irritation.

“I’m trying to write, but it’s hard. Also, Magnus keeps bugging me about it.” Magnus gives an offended gasp.

“Listen, you know for a fact that I need a lot of creativity from you to be satisfied. You have been severely neglecting your writing! I - for one - have been itching to see you write again.” Magnus says defensively.

“Ughhhh, I know, but it’s haaard.”

“Yeah, and you’ll mess it up.” Magnus and Edna jump slightly at the new addition to the group.

“Hello to you too, Nico,” Elliot greets - Nico just glowers at faem.

“Excuse me, who invited you?” Magnus says in an accusatory tone.

“Well, this is getting rather crowded now, isn’t it?” Edna cuts in, attempting to dispel the tension. Magnus and Nico shoot each other a glare, but do nothing more but fold their arms and turn away from each other.

Edna shakes her head and continues, “There is some merit to what Magnus is saying, however. Besides, even if you were to ‘mess up,’ there is no other way to get better at writing. Waiting for that to go away so that you can create something ‘perfect’ is highly illogical. Success only comes from a series of failures.

I will restrain myself from getting into it, but don’t forget that sucess has no solid marker and can only be measured by your own personal perception of it. Therefore, if you were to set that bar at somewhere reasonable, you would succeed much faster and be much more satisfied with your creative works.”

Elliot sighs, mulling the words over, “Well, yeah, but…”

“Buuuuuut, also you gotta remember that plenty of your friends have told you that your writing is lovely! You should use that as motivation rather than being hindered by your anxiety! Oh! Oops, sorry, Nico.” Nico just shrugs.

“However, putting too much of your basis for motivation in what your friends think of your creative works can cause you to become discouraged and give up if you do not recieve a  sufficient amount of validation.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with needing validation - however - it would be more efficient to be motivated by your drive to bring your ideas to life, as friends may not always provide you with an adequate response.”

“You’re both so right and I hate it.”

“Naaah, you love us.” Reese waves it off easily and grins like the sun. Elliot can’t help but let out a fond sigh.

“...Yeah, I do.”