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#writing ask
novlr · 11 months
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How should I go about describing a character who goes through a lot, becoming more disheveled and desperate as the plot goes on?
Desperation is the emotion that drives characters to their limits, leading to their most intense and extreme behaviours.
By showing how characters become more desperate as your plot progresses, you can create characters that are interesting, dynamic, and relatable.
Here are some ways you can show desperation in your characters. As the plot moves forward, these elements can get worse, showing their decline.
How do they behave?
Obsessive and/or compulsive
Repetitive actions like hand wringing, or overuse of stock phrases
Self-destructive and risk-seeking
Enhanced aggression
Avoidant and isolationist
Manipulative
Exploitative
Short-tempered
Impulsive decision-making
Unrelenting pursuit of something
What physical signs do they show?
Heart palpitations and short, rapid breathing
Sweating profusely
Shaking or trembling
Sudden onset of nausea
Feeling weak or dizzy
Muscle tension
Headaches
Insomnia caused by worry and stress
Feelings of fatigue
Stomach pain and cramping
How do they interact?
Begging or pleading with others
Manipulating others to get what they want
Increasing paranoia and questioning other's motives
Pushing away loved ones
Becoming overly clingy
Either an inability to trust or being too quick to trust others
Self-sabotage
Single-focus conversations
What do they look like?
Unkempt hair and poor hygiene
Rumpled, slept-in clothing
Nervous tics, like fidgeting, pacing, or picking at nails
Extreme and unexplained weight loss
A haunted, faraway, or panicked look
Dark-rimmed, bruised eyes from lack of sleep or exhaustion
A constant sheen of sweat and clammy skin
Unusual clothing choices
What body language do they display?
Hunching over, as if trying to protect themselves
Fidgeting or pacing
Avoiding eye contact
Clenching fists or grinding teeth
Sweating or shaking
Staring intently at something
Repeatedly touching hair or face
Darting eyes and biting lips
Meek and under-confident stance
Pleading look
What is their attitude?
Feeling hopelessness
Sad and dejected
Becoming increasingly irrational
A loss of faith in themselves and others
Obsession to the point of resorting to extreme measures
A sense of helplessness
Blaming others
Feeling powerless
A sense of urgency
What are some positive things that can come out of desperation?
Increased motivation to achieve their goals or solve their problems
Resilience and adaptability in the face of adversity
Heightened creativity and resourcefulness
The ability to form deep and meaningful connections with those who share their struggles
Catharsis or character growth through their struggles
What are some negative things that can come out of desperation?
A tendency to become self-destructive or engage in risky behaviour
Difficulty forming and maintaining healthy relationships
Increased isolation or loneliness
Chronic stress and physical health problems
A tendency to make impulsive or irrational decisions
Prone to depression and anxiety
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glenechoslasher · 5 days
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"I'm Yours" ||
Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader
Rating: None
Length: 1.3k words
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Asked by @yyiikes IN LOVE WITH THIS SO MUCH ?? we need another part when he finally says it back
Part 2 of "Here With Me"
Oh, I can absolutely do that for you! I adore this man so much and he's been occupying my mind a lot, so I'm glad to have you guys enjoy my writing! I'd love to do more!
*
‘It's been a few weeks. A few weeks of my silence and their patience. I don't know what else I could possibly say to them that I already haven't written or thought here, it's… it's obvious, ain't it?’
*
Arthur stared up from his leather journal as he leaned further back against the tree in camp, the cover of the shade made it easy to stare at you across the camp as you did your usual chores, completely unaware of the set of eyes on you. The brim of his hat offered that extra layer of protection from being caught, but even if he were caught, would he even deny it?  No, he wouldn't, and he just chuckled at himself at how obvious it had been to probably everyone, excluding himself until recently.
Yes, he truly did have feelings for you, whether he cared to address them or not. He would have just chalked it up to loyalty to those in the gang, but you were a different case altogether. When he was faced with you being injured, it struck a nerve with him, and the urge to protect you outweighed anything that required any sense of logic, his instincts just took over, and that wasn’t just caring for a fellow gang member, there was something more in the depths of his gut. Arthur’s eyes flickered back down to the page and there you were, sketched carefully across the page like you were a carved statue. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d focused on such little details of you face, how he paid that much attention to those small things that made your face so…you.
He’d been thinking of you so often now, his mind full with so many ways to get you alone to have a talk, but no matter what he did, there was always someone wanting his attention, a day’s work was never finished. Today, it was a day of peace, or at least he’d hoped it would be, it was early and there were people who were barely awake. Arthur had let out a sigh and slipped the journal back into his satchel, then pushed himself from the ground and got to his feet. Instead of making his way straight to you, he went to pour himself a cup of coffee to calm his nerves, the warmth of it in his hand made him focus when he couldn’t. 
You’d been petting the horses after feeding them, and his eyes barely wavered from you for more than a moment, the intensity would have worried onlookers if it weren’t the people he’d known for years, but they knew how Arthur was. ‘He keeps his walls up’, ‘he’s not much of a talker’, all those things that were said about him weren’t necessarily a lie, but there was more to it than that. He did feel, he felt more than he let on because things of that nature were much more complicated. The one person in camp that he felt he could really talk to,besides yourself, was Charles, and even he had given him the best advice he could. 
“Talk to them,” he said bluntly. “Don’t be ashamed to tell them, they obviously put enough trust in you to confess. So, even if you don’t feel the same, it’s best to tell them exactly what you feel.”
Charles was always smart, incredibly intuitive, and Arthur was always the second guesser, but overall, his friend was right. He had been so wrapped up in thinking that he didn’t notice you going for your own cup of coffee right beside him. Arthur stood beside the fire and stared out at the water, the trees along the horizon brought him comfort in serene moments like this, but as if his body was reacting, he turned to see you staring up at him.
“You okay there?” You asked, a small smile on your lips as you brought the cup up, taking a small sip. 
Arthur cleared his throat and nodded as he brought his own cup to his lips, his eyes darted from you to the water again. “Been thinkin’ is all,” he said gruffly. 
You nodded in reply and hummed. “Yeah, I felt bad bothering you, but I wanted to be sure.” You had wanted to reach out to him to offer your support, or any comfort he might take solace in, but you decided against it. 
What you were greeted with though was Arthur beckoning you toward the large rock that sat by the shoreline. You would follow him, of course, and looked around curiously as he motioned for you to sit on the rock. As much as you wanted to question him, you kept your mouth shut and waited, patience was a virtue with this man. He then removed the journal from his bag and flipped more than halfway through until he stopped on a page, and then handed it to you with little to no hesitation while you balanced your coffee in one hand with the journal in the other. 
As you were about to ask, your eyes caught the drawing on the left, it was you, and it was sketched so beautifully that you were at a loss for words as you stared at it for a while. Arthur cleared his throat after a moment and chuckled as he tapped the other side of the journal, which was filled with words written in neat writing. You’d never seen his journal before, so all of this was a lot to process, the fact he trusted you with it in the first place showed how important you’d been.
Wordlessly, he stood there as you read the page. 
‘It's been a few weeks. A few weeks of my silence and their patience. I don't know what else I could possibly say to them that I already haven't written or thought here, it's… it's obvious, ain't it? Of course I love them, I have for a while now and it scared me. I’ve loved in my lifetime and yet, whenever I had, something bad always followed, like a curse upon my heart. But if there’s one thing I’d been told that really stuck with me, it was to take a gamble on love. It’s ridiculous to be afraid of something so natural and yet it’s been the hardest thing to admit. But I admit it, I love them. And I ain’t gonna regret it, not this time.’
When you finished, you stared up at the gunslinger with large eyes, you were struck with disbelief, dazed at the fact that this man was so articulate with how he felt and how he saw you… Your eyes went back to the pages and you stared for a long while, unable to truly say how you felt. 
Arthur shifted and took a large drink of coffee, then looked back at you. He then chuckled to himself and sighed. “Is this how you felt when you told me all that stuff and I said nothin’?” He asked you. “Because now I get it, that’s… agonizin’ to wait.” He offered a wide smile and continued to sip his coffee. 
“Arthur… I…” You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t say it, this man had your tongue. Quickly, you stood up with his closed journal, then threw your arms around his bulky frame, which almost caused him to drop his coffee, and most definitely spilled a majority of yours.
He laughed and looked down at you, your arms around him as you hid your face in his jacket. Arthur patted your shoulder gently at first, then he pulled you in with one arm and hugged you in return. This ain’t so bad, could get used to this. 
The sun was finally beginning to rise in the sky, the colors like a watercolor painting as the pinks and purples slowly faded with the hues of gold, and staring out at the sky while you were wrapped around Arthur was more of a dream than you could have ever imagined. His hand placed gently on your shoulder, allowing you to just remain with him, taking in the comfort of his scent. 
You could get used to days like this.
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Some Q's for youuu:
8. How slow is a slow burn? 🕒
19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. 📝
22. What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again? 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻
28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? 🤓
30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't. 🪦🙀
I appreciate your dedication using the emojis, they enhanced the experience greatly!!!!
8. How slow is a slow burn? 🕒 
The hottest slow burn 2 me is one where they can barely even make eye contact for a solid 15k, let alone touch lips. I want them to go through every possible option and do every possible thing to avoid getting together for so long they’re practically pulling their hair out in the frustration of it. Their desperation for each other needs to be so unbearable that they truly genuinely lose their minds, and they then need to stay apart for a little while after that.
19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it. 📝 “Alien…” she whispers, eyes wide with a terror so painfully familiar to Kara. “Oh, God.” “Miss Luthor, I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I just need the hard drive. That’s all," Kara says.
She tries to keep a soothing tone, but she’s so tired of this. She wants to be done. She’s so close to being done, too. The Luthor's eyes are intense and focused, studying Kara back just as deeply as Kara studies her. She’s beautiful, Kara thinks, and she’s scared. Everyone is always scared of the alien. The woman holds the device out with one hand and Kara can see the slight shake to it. “You won’t hurt me?” she asks again, and Kara smiles. “I promise,” Kara says. She grabs the drive but feels some resistance as she tugs. The other woman isn’t letting go. Kara looks at her again to find her smiling. “Funny,” Lena Luthor says. “Because I’m going to hurt you.” Kara’s head whips back with the force of the hit, blood splattering from her mouth as she falls.
22. What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again? 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻
For me I fucking LOVE a multiverse like what do you mean they will find each other in every form, in every world, in every time??? What do you MEAN if there’s a version of one that exists the other must be elsewhere waiting for the chance and not knowing it?? What do you MEAN quantum entanglement?????
28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? 🤓
Don’t try to write it correctly the first round, just get material on the page. 
Write out your story concepts like you’re writing a transcript of your brain. You’re not editing or correcting or explaining meaning, just conveying exactly what is there as it is. My preferred method is just a big stream of conscious paragraph with no punctuations and often times looks like I’m describing drama to a friend via text - “[…] and then Lena was like Lex what the fuck!!!!!! bitch!!!!! and then Kara freaks out and grabs […] - and then just leave it for a little while. Come back to it later and divide them up into fragmented sentences and concepts and build from there. When I spend ages trying to think of the right way to write out my ideas more often than not I find I’ve written nothing, and the things left unwritten have faded away from my memory like they’d never been there at all.
30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't. 🪦🙀
I have a fic concept I flirt with sometimes where Lena is head of security for Luthor Corp distribution, which handles art and artifacts for hundreds of museums around the world, and she is forced to handle the chaos of some masked thief that keeps stealing things and returning them to their original cultures. Lillian is breathing down her neck to fix this, but no one ever seems able to even get more than a glimpse of the crook - until Lena does. 
And Lena realizes three things when she finally sees the masked Robin Hood rip-off:
1.) the thief is a woman, and somehow able to handle such massive robberies alone.
2.) The thief gets sloppy when Lena is there, nervous and bumbling and chatty. She acts like she’s never seen a pretty girl before. Like she wants to impress Lena just as much as rob her.
3.) Lena might not be able to stop the robberies with her wit, but she sure as hell can with her tits.
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senualothbrok · 23 days
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Hello, friend!
I hereby invite you to think about how, one evening, you're watching Gale gesture his way through his day. It's a comforting ritual, but tonight, after you've endured a dismissive wave for the lazier apprentices whining about their marks, an aggravated finger shake for a catastrophically wrong Evocation professor, a framing of the entire universe, a picturing of possibilities when he talks about his research... you decide you've had enough.
Not of listening to him talk (the only time you prefer him silent is when he's putting his mouth to other, differently delightful uses, but even then). You've had enough of having those lovely, eloquent hands everywhere--in the air, on the desk, scrolls, books, his glass of wine--and not on you, not in your own hands, not against your skin.
Gale stops mid-narrative when you slide into his space, eyes widening as you take his wandering right hand in both of yours. Even now it's so easy to fluster him and knock him off that confident stride with the slightest touch. Granted, the touch you're offering him is more than slight: kisses across the bumps of his knuckles and down the length of his index finger. When you slide the tip into your mouth, the sound he makes is incoherent and poetic.
You kiss his palm, tasting salt and ink, and then his mouth, where you taste the wine and him. You continue lacing your fingers through his, finding the pressure points that make him sigh, and the soft skin along the inside of his wrist that makes him shiver. However briefly you have all that energy contained, held like galaxies cupped in your hands, and as he murmurs softly against your mouth, settling into the kiss, you've never felt so powerful.
Hello friend! I can’t tell you how ecstatic I am to receive one of your legendary asks! I am in love with your writing and feel so honoured to be invited to share in this. Thank you so much, and I hope this cuts it!
-----
It is intoxicating, that power. Almost dizzying, as his breath hitches at the tingle of your tongue against his.
But you have never been one to hoard power. Everything that you have, you share with him, just as he gives you everything freely and without reservation. Between you, there is always a steady stream of desire, a give and take of control. You feel it drift into his grasp now, as his right hand dances across your jawline, the curve of your neck, the small of your back. You are the one quivering now, as his left hand slides under your shirt like he is unwrapping a priceless gift. It is your breath that catches as his fingers circle the secret spot under your breast that he knows as well as his own flesh. 
You are entranced by them - those slender hands that have doled out destruction as well as comfort, those lithe fingers that have brought forth explosions of pain and pleasure both. You watch your own hands running through the soft waves of his hair, grazing the bristles of his beard. Your hands look so small, so insubstantial, in comparison, until he slips your fingers into his mouth, and wraps your other hand around his hardness with an urgency that winds you. You echo his low moan as his fingers tighten your hold on his desire.
And as his touch becomes yours and you melt into each other, you have never felt stronger.
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lyralit · 2 years
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summertime writers' asks!
🦋 tell us about your current wip
🌿 who is your favourite character you've ever written?
🌞 favourite character from current wip
🍦 what is your current word count?
🌻 least favourite character / hardest to write
🍉 favourite wip
☁️ wip you want to write but haven't started yet
🌸 wip you've been working on the longest
✨ newest wip
🦩 wip you hate working on but are too far gone to turn back
🍸 character who inspired your mc
🌱 book that inspired your wip
🍃 what is your genre?
🌼 least favourite writing genre
🥥 least favourite reading genre
🐠 author who inspires you
🍯 author you know
🌷 writing achievement you want to brag about
🍄 name a song that represents your mc
🍬 a song for your favourite character
🌤 name the hardest thing you've had to do for writing
🍰 where you like to write
🍧 weirdest place you've written
🕊 mc's MBTI
🍀 character you would kill off if they were not vital to the plot
🍓 worst thing you've done to your characters
👒 nicest thing you've done to your characters
🌾 book you would / have writ(t)e(n) fanfic for
🌨️ book you hate
🐥 here's some writing motivation!
rb for an ask!
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f1-disaster-bi · 27 days
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Send me a topics/sentence/idea/au and a pairing and I'll write a short fic/drabble
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illarian-rambling · 11 days
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Wine - How do they act when drunk? & Blush - Who flusters them most? for the tag game! (Feel free to pick just one, I'm just too indecisive to live lol)
So I did one of these for drunk Djek. The only other character I've written drunk is Sepo, so let's do him!
Drunk Sepo wants MUSIC. In the scene I wrote, he's absolutely enthralled by a jazz quartet in a dive bar. If he had his tongue and karaoke was a thing on Illaros, you already know he'd be rocking that shit. This effect only gets worse as the night goes on, though given how tall he is, it takes Sepo a while to get properly shitfaced.
Along with gravitating towards music, three things happen when Sepo is truly drunk. One, his handsigns get pretty loosy goosy, and he forgets some Janazi (it's a second language), so communication is mostly guesswork. Two, he gets clingy. Sepo is not the one to go gallavanting off on drunken escapades (that's Astra's tendency). He will stay within arms length of you at every moment. Three, he gets incredibly overstimulated incredibly quickly. Siren super hearing and darkvision plus a crowded bar don't mix on the best of days, but especially not when alcohol is involved. He usually finds a street corner to sit on and Izjik usually goes with him so he's not alone. The morning after, his hangover bitchiness is on another level.
As for getting flustered, Sepo isn't the type for that, so let's talk about Mashal.
Mashal is a very easily flustered person about a lot of things. He's a little glad robots can't blush because anything suggestive, mildly embarrassing, or frustrating would put color in his cheeks. The one person who flusters him the most is, of course, Astra.
Mashal is in love with Astra. He has been for a long time, though he only realizes this in book 2. Her bravado and compassion set his nonexistent heart pounding. Every inappropriate metaphor, or excited story, or quiet reassurance keeps him up at night more than any mechanical sleeplessness. Even the half-mad way she squints while focusing on a project makes him short of breath he lacks. Mashal is deeply in love, and he knows he can never be with her. She deserves more than he can give with his dangerous paranoid instincts and metal body. She deserves someone who can fall asleep beside her, who can feel her kisses, who can truly promise that he'll never hurt her. And Mashal will never be that man. So he hides his feelings (not well, but Astra is the queen of obliviousness) and tells himself they'll go away. He'd rather be her friend than frighten her off with an unrequited confession. Even so, every move she makes leaves him utterly flustered.
Thanks for the asks! I always end up on a tangent when I talk about Mashal and Astra, but whatever. Hope you have a bitchin night <3
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juuuuunaaaaaooooo · 12 days
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Bring it on for the wip game pls
Ahahaha I WAS SURE IT WAS THE ONE WHO INTRIGUED YOU!!!! Because I know (I'm sure), you know, what this is about^^
Rio arrived at his new school, headphones around his neck, cassette player in his pocket. He was going to start the day with chemistry, not his favorite subject, but at least they could do some fun experiments.
After a very short presentation, he moved to the only empty seat in the class, and was greeted by the two village fools. Rio switched off his player, ending his rap session, and sat down.
The second idiot reiterated his buffoonery by imitating a fake cough. "Loser."
Rio had two options, ignore them or put them in their place. "Yo, guys, your sketch is outdated. In Detroit they got swag, and guns. But no goofball jokes. This sketch is dead. Sorry."
Unsurprisingly they did it a third time, thinking they were being funny, but they were just pathetic. This time Rio ignored them; he didn't feel like wasting his time on guys like that.
As he removed his headphones and stowed them in his bag, a female voice came from his right. "I think they just didn't understand a word you said."
Rio turned to look at his new neighbor and was immediately charmed by her pretty smile and big blue eyes.
"Or maybe it hasn't reached their brains yet." The girl began to laugh, and Rio found the sound very melodious. He decided to introduce himself. "Rio."
"Beth."
Rio looked at the book on Elizabeth's table; he was sure it was her full name. He wasn't the talkative type, but he was interested in making conversation with her.
"Second year Chemistry."
"Yes. Impressed?"
"Definitely."
"Really?"
"Nah."
Beth let out a laugh and pointed at his T-shirt. "'It's...?"
Rio tugged lightly at his T-shirt. "Tupac? Best rapper of all time, released his first album '2Pacalypse Now' in 1991. He's the most famous rapper in the world, but unfortunately got shot on September 7, 1996, and died as a result of his injuries on September 13, 1996."
"Wow."
Rio grinned up to his ears, but the bell rang at that moment, interrupting them. "I guess we'll be seeing each other again."
Beth stood up and smiled at him. "Chances are."
Yeah, Rio was definitely under the spell. His first day had been a really nice one.
Thank youuuuuuuuuuuu <3
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serendipminiewrites · 5 months
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If you could have tea with any of your ocs, who would it be?
Thank you so much for the ask!
I would probably have to go with Christian Vega from Bibliophilia (I'm currently making an intro page for it!)
Christian is a floofy little guy (maybe not that little, he's nineteen), the teen librarian at the Serendipity library and cafe he runs with his friends. He has fluffy dyed blonde hair (reminiscent of a K-Pop idol almost) and these huge round glasses. His giggle is adorable and he blushes often. He loves sweet honey tea, and would be so charmed to have tea with anyone and make pleasant conversation. If I had any stress or worries, it's guaranteed I'd feel better after a talk with this kind young man. He definitely wears his heart on his sleeve and will try his best to understand my predicament.
I can just picture having a warm cup of tea at sunset by his side, the two of us giggling softly into the night and staying up for hours making idle chatter.
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ask-the-rowanverse · 25 days
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To faeries in the forest!Janus: How are you adapting to life in the city?
Janus, looking somewhere off to the side: What exactly are we doing -?
Roman, from somewhere else: just answer the question they asked!!
Janus: alright, Hm- well, the city is very loud and occasionally overwhelming, but Virgil has been helping me find work arounds for some of the more pressing issues... Like these (he wiggles his fingers, showing off yellow gloves) to make sure I don't accidently touch the cursed metal that's... Everywhere. You humans really like using it, don't you?
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novlr · 11 days
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hello, I’m a new writer here on tumblr. I’ve been posting my writing lately but that seems to attract not even a single person. And I want people to review my writings and post down their opinions on it..how do I get people to view my writing here?
Like any social media platform, you get out of Tumblr what you put in.
Tumblr is all about community, so it's important to make sure you engage, not just put out content. We've put together this article in the Reading Room that's all about how writers can get the most out of Tumblr.
But we also have some great resources for more general book marketing that have some transferrable information for any social media platform you might be using to promote your work.
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navybrat817 · 7 days
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Why are people bitching about short fics? 😭
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...Is that happening, nonnie? If so, I couldn't begin to tell you why! I will say I sometimes post short ficlets because I don't have a lot of time and energy to write. My fic last week was almost 5k though and I have an upcoming one-shot that's over 11k. There's no rhyme or reason!
Long or short, I hope every lovely posting gets the love and interaction they deserve.
Love and thanks! ❤️
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hi!!! your latest fic is absolutely amazing, thank you for sharing it!!! for the writers ask, could i please ask for 10, 11, and 40 if that’s not too greedy? :D thank you!
10. Top three favourite fic tropes. - Enemies/Rivals to Lovers (or the most delicious of all: Friends to Enemies to Lovers). when this trope is done right it hits so deliciously, but it is also very easy to fuck this trope up. 
-Soulmate AU. I eat that shit up.
-Forced Proximity. Like oh no, our characters have no choice but to: share a bed, get married, pretend to be dating, stay trapped in this room together even though they're fighting, stay within touching distance at all times or their skin starts to burn, etc etc 11. Three tropes that are fine but overrated. -Childhood Friends to Lovers: I just find it boring tbh unless it’s got solid tension laced throughout it.
-Fluff: I never want to read that. Truly never -Honestly anything that's just super soft and safe and no tension or angst. Not my cup of tea.
40. Write a 9-word fic.
Fitting, to die for the woman who betrayed you.
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sunshinereddie · 11 months
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For the soft fic prompt thing could you maybe do number 3 or 30?
sorry anon that this took forever to reply to!!! hope you enjoy reading :D
3: forehead kisses
There were lots of things that Richie loved about his boyfriend.
He loved Eddie's smile, and the loud laugh that he let sometimes slip whenever he heard something really funny. He loved the way Eddie cared for him- both in a physical way, in making sure Richie ate lunch every day, as well as an emotional way, in giving Richie a shoulder to cry on and giving him loving reassurance whenever he felt down. He loved the way Eddie cuddled into him at night like a koala bear, wrapping his arms and legs around Richie so tightly that Richie wouldn't be able to get up if he tried (it's made Richie late for work a few times, but he doesn't mind in the slightest).
One of the other things that Richie loves about Eddie, is that Eddie is the perfect height for forehead kisses.
When Richie is cooking dinner and Eddie comes to stand beside him, Richie can easily plant a kiss on his forehead. When they're sitting on the couch together and Eddie falls asleep, he is always just at the perfect height and angle against Richie's chest for Richie to wake him up with a gentle kiss to his forehead. When Eddie comes home from a bad day at work and he walks straight into Richie's arms for some comfort, automatically tilting his head up ever so slightly to give Richie access to his forehead.
Richie showed his love for Eddie in a thousand different ways, but a gentle press of his lips to Eddie’s forehead was definitely one of his favourites.
BONUS: Growing up, Eddie had always… disliked his height. He had always been short than his friends, his classmates, and even throughout college and his young adult years, he always found himself to be one of the shortest in whatever group he was in.
For nearly 40 years, he had always disliked his height… until he started dating Richie, and discovered that he was just the right height to receive a forehead kiss from Richie.
For the first time in his life, Eddie hoped his growth spurt would never come.
30. ‘this is my husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner etc.’
"Oh my god, did you see who's over there?"
"No, who?"
"Over at the bar- that's Richie Tozier!"
"Who?"
Bill raised his eyebrows at his coworkers. "Richie Tozier?" he repeated. "The comedian? He's like, one of the most popular guys in comedy these days? He's starring in that upcoming movie with Brad Pitt?"
Beverly rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. "You know I don't watch that kind of stuff, Denbrough."
"That's not the point," Bill said, looking back across the room to the tall, curly-haired man standing at the bar. "What the hell is Richie Tozier doing here, at our office party?"
"It's a public bar, Bill," Ben pointed out. "Ever think that maybe he's just here to get a drink?"
Stanley frowned. "A rich, world-famous comedian is getting a drink in a tiny, crowded, 2-star pub in Brooklyn?" He shook his head as he watched the comedian chat animatedly with the bartender. "Doesn't add up."
"Well, you can't be implying that he's here for the office party, right?" Mike said.
"No, but, I mean there must be a reason-"
"Hi, everyone."
While they were all indeed curious about Richie Tozier's attendance at their little party, Stanley's theory was cut short by a new addition to their table as Eddie Kaspbrak squeezed himself into the spot in between Beverly and Mike.
Eddie Kaspbrak was very much a part of this little office friend group, though he was the most mysterious out of all of them. He didn't talk much about his personal life... or anything other than work, really. So while things like Stanley's marriage and kid on the way, Beverly's side business, and the novel that Bill was attempting to write when he wasn't in the office were all common knowledge amongst them, the most that any of them really knew about Eddie was that he was married- and only because of the ring on his finger, not because he had told them. They were all definitely curious about the mysterious life of Eddie Kaspbrak, but they also respected him enough not to pry.
They all returned cheerful hello's and how are you's in reply to Eddie, but when Bill noticed the comedian at the bar move out of the corner of his eye, their conversation from before quickly resumed. "Hey, Eddie, do you know who Richie Tozier is?"
Eddie's eyes widened slightly, and if Bill wasn't mistaken, he seemed to have the slightest hint of a smile on his face. "I've heard of him," Eddie replied.
"Well, he's here, apparently," Beverly said. "And Bill's getting all excited about it."
"I am not getting all excited about it," Bill said, to which Beverly grinned. "I'm just wondering why he's here."
"Maybe you should go ask him," Ben suggested. "Maybe he'll even give you his autograph."
"Oh, shut it, Hanscom."
"What do you think, Eddie?" Mike asked, after the laughter and Bill's blush had died down. "Any ideas on why a famous celebrity would be here, at this bar, at our office party?"
Eddie glanced between his friends, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked almost nervous, but the smile on his face seemed to grow. "Ah," he said after a few moments of thought. "Well, actually, you see-"
"Eds!"
A voice cut through the music playing and all the conversation around them, and when Bill looked over to the source, he couldn't believe his eyes.
Richie Tozier was walking towards them, a big grin on his face, and his eyes set on Eddie. Bill thought he must be mistaken, that Richie Tozier was definitely not approaching them, that he was calling for someone else who just happened to have a similar nickname to Eddie, there was just no way...
So Bill could only watch in amazement and confusion as Richie Tozier stopped directly beside Eddie, and handed him one of the drinks in his hand. "They didn't have your favourite wine," Richie said as Eddie took the glass. "Or your second favourite, either. So I got your third favourite, which I know is not ideal, but it's the best this place and their pathetic wine selection could do."
Nobody could quite believe what they were seeing, or hearing. The five of them had worked with Eddie for almost six years now, and collectively they probably knew five facts about Eddie Kaspbrak... but somehow, celebrity comedian Richie Tozier has the knowledge of Eddie's favourite type of wine, as well as his second, and third? And he even has a nickname for Eddie, who as far as Bill knew, hated when people tried to give him a nickname?
Eddie glanced down at his wine, not looking too happy about having to settle for his third choice, but looked back up to Richie with a smile and thanked him anyways. Richie beamed proudly as he took a sip of his own drink, before glancing over to the group standing around them, and the five pairs of eyes staring at them in surprise. "So, Eds," Richie said. "You gonna introduce me to your friends or what?"
Eddie returned his attention back to his friends, and Bill noticed that his blush was even more prominent now, though his smile was as big as Bill had ever seen it. "Right," he said. "Uh, Richie, these are some of my coworkers, the ones I told you about- this is Bill, Mike, Beverly, Stanley, and Ben." Richie eagerly shook each of their hands, greeting them with a genuine-sounding, Pleasure to meet 'ya!
Eddie hesitated for a few moments after Richie let go of Ben's hand, as though he was trying to figure out what to say next, but was having trouble. Bill found this rather odd, as at work Eddie never seemed to have a problem with speaking in their meetings, but Bill was still trying to process the fact that Richie Tozier was standing in front of him and just shook his hand, that he didn't spend too much time pondering over Eddie's behaviour.
Finally, after taking another sip of his third-choice wine, Eddie spoke up again. "Guys, I'd like you to meet Richie- my husband."
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nerdherderette · 2 months
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by the lovely @dear-massacre. It's been a while since I've done this, mostly because I've been doing anon fests for the past two years, but I'm excited to have something to share! It's a snippet from my Regency Historical FTH 2023 ( 😬) fic for @elisela (first chapter goes up next week):
Despite his irritation, a small smile broke across Derek's face. He would always have a soft spot for his baby sister. "While the rest of the incomparables are busy choosing their gowns for the next season, Cora prefers to spend her time at Manton's shooting gallery on Davis. She has it in her head that she wants to join the Royal Navy in its efforts against Napoleon." Derek shook his head. "She is so young, however. Too much so." "Even the smallest wolf has claws and fangs." "And she is, unfortunately, of a single mind. Which is why she doesn't mind throwing me to the wolves if it serves her purpose. I have no doubt Cora would relish having me steal our parents' attention and disapproval should I return." "Surely there are some things from home you miss." Jordan's eyes widened, and he grinned smugly. "What was that look? I'm right, aren't I?" "It's…" Derek turned away from Jordan's expectant gaze. He wasn't sure why he had thought of Stiles just then. He hadn't seen the boy since Laura's wedding. Constable Stilinski's son must have been sixteen—perhaps seventeen, at the most—and the movement of his limbs could not seem to catch up with his sudden growth spurt. "I was thinking about someone who lived near my aunt. He was exceptionally bright, if a bit odd. He was closer to Cora's age, although he seemed to enjoy my company." A wave of guilt flooded Derek as he remembered receiving Stiles' letter. He had not been in a good place at the time, and after reading the excited, hopeful words of a mere child, had thrown it away without responding. "I haven't seen him in years. It is for the best; any bit of hero worship he still may have held for me would surely have been destroyed by this point." "You say your family disapproves of your choices. Yet they all wish you home. I think the only person who can't forgive you for your mistakes is yourself." Derek gripped the armrest of his chair. Jordan was one of the few people in his life who knew the story. Unfortunately, his own family did as well. "There are some mistakes one can't return from."
Tagging @magpiefngrl @sugareey-makes-stuff @wolfspurr @pkrosche @lqtraintracks @brightowl-fics @dragonflies-draw-flame @rosieposiepuddingnpie @greyhavenisback @halehathnofury (only if you want to!❤️)
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tigereyes45 · 21 days
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Hey, for the WIP ask, 🤔
I’d love to hear abt what kinds of ideas you’ve got kicking around up there
Thank you for sending an ask! Right now all my thoughts are on star trek haha.
🤔- What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?
Here's a few:
Mcspirk loses their memories, and yet still want to protect each other from danger. They have no idea why.
McCoy returning to his room late, and finding a sleeping Jim, and Spock there. He goes about the room, tidying/preparing for the morning before joining them to rest.
Scotty assumed Mcspirk have been together for years, so when he apologizes for interrupting what he thinks is an anniversary celebration, he's shocked to find out that they are not in fact, together. Nor have they ever been.
A fic where one by one my favorite Enterprise ships get together. First Chulu, then Mcspirk, and lastly Uhotty (because let's be honest Scotty would just assume Uhura's flirting is nothing).
A multi-chap fic that highlights Chekov's relationship with each of the triumvirate, as he grows into a starfleet officer (and maybe him reacting to each of their deaths).
A series of vignettes that highlight McCoy's relationship with his daughter Joanna.
Plus many many others. I usually post my random ideas in the Mcspirk Events Discord, where server law often leads to me writing them out.
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