#writing fun

[brainstreams]

A lot of neurodivergent creatives think they’re “bad at consistency.”

But what’s usually happening is this:

you work in bursts.

Three hours of deep focus. A week of thinking about the project in your head. Then another intense burst.

That’s still a creative process!

[happyprincessgirl]

N x Reader - cuddling

Now that I finished murder drones, I can finally get to fan ficing away!! I’m open to request if there’s something you like to write. I love to hear your ideas. I do spicy (not smut at least not yet) & fluffy. Anyway, let’s get to fluff fluffville

Normally you wouldn’t be up this late but you couldn’t seem to get to sleep. You were looking up at the ceiling, lying down. Your optic eyes that were the color of your eyes were tired, but even if you close them, your body won’t let you slumber.

Why couldn’t you? Are you not tired? No, that couldn’t be the case since you feel exhausted & need to recharge. But your drone body was struggling to do so. You sighed. Turning your head to the other side, where your lover slept.

N… it hasn’t been that long since you two started dating, right? Maybe two, three weeks…? His screen had text sprawled across it. Reading, ‘sleep mode’ his hair was a bit disheveled & messy from sleeping. He usually sleeps like a bat. Upside down, with his wings around his body but his head peeking out. But once you started dating & he wanted to be closer to you, he sleeps next to you.

He doesn’t seem to find it. Just getting used to it. You smiled. He usually doesn’t have to do this. You did say you didn’t mind hanging like a bat to cuddle with him as you two sleep. It’s a bit… uncomfortable for you but you could bare with it. But N - being the sweetest drone - and boyfriend you could ever ask for, wanted to try sleeping next to you.

You scoot a little closer, wrapping one arm around him. Trying to not wake him up. Resting your head on his chest. He felt warm. He was overheating, at least you were hoping he wasn’t - but he felt warm.

You feel arms wrap around you, catching you by surprise. You open your mouth to ask if he was awake but one look at his face answered that question as his yellow, puppy optic eyes were still closed. You relax back into him again.

This moment felt so calm, so intimate, you could stay like this if you could. Your eyes start to become heavy. Was this what you needed to help with sleep? Guess you just needed a cuddle from someone you deeply loved.

He just makes you feel safe, secure, content. You could easily forget anything with his sweet, puppy dog energy & touch against you.

Hopefully you can stay like this… at least for a little while longer. You close your eyes, your screen showing the dialogue entering sleep mode.

[ambrosiaswhispers]

Past Curfew

“It’s bad idea for you to go alone. It’s crazy out there.” 

“Matt, I’m not arguing with you about this.” Karen laced up her boots.

“Frank will be fine.” Matt folded his arms over his chest. “He wouldn’t want you to…”

Karen laid her hand over his folded arms. “I understand that you are worried. But, please don’t tell me what Frank would want.”

“I know he wouldn’t want you in harm’s way.”

She zipped up her hoodie, “He also knows better than to argue with me when I’m being stubborn. My gun’s in my purse.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Matt sighed.

She snickered. “I’m hoping you won’t follow me if you know I have it.”

“Karen, please. Why do you need to go check his place out now?”

She fidgeted with her fingers, knowing full well that Matt could hear her heart rate increasing. “Frank and I have a signal…and he missed it.”

“So you've really been talking to Frank.” Matt’s tone was concerned and maybe a little jealous again. Karen couldn’t be bothered to care right now. She was worried.

She checked her gun, before putting it back into her purse. “He reached out to me first. He’s less murderous when we’re talking.”

“He seemed pretty murderous when I saw him earlier this year.”

She grabbed a bottle of water and took a long drink. “We had an argument after Foggy.”

“You’re grieving and he picks a fight, that…”

“I was defending you and he didn’t appreciate it.” She cut him off. “Just trust me, please. Everyday Frank sends me a picture of a dog, so I know he’s alive. He hasn’t sent one for two days. I need to check his place to see if he’s okay or if he's not.”

The silence was deafening before a car drove by the brakes screeching. The city was so much quieter now. Fisk's curfew, his patrolling army, and all the anarchy that was unleashed. They were part of the rebellion, but they weren't too many, yet. Daredevil had friends, they just had to figure out how to reach out safety.

After the car passed, Matt relented. “He’s got security at his place. I don't think you should just go over there."

“He gave me the code.” Karen checked the charge on her phone.

Matt swallowed, “You two really are close.”

“You said you heard our heart rates.”

“You said it was adrenaline.” He countered.

“I lied.”

"I know." Matt pulled open the door. “Stay there if it gets past curfew. I’m gonna be on the other side of the city.”

“Be as careful as you can.”

“You too.”

***

Karen stepped over the trip wire, knocked on the fake brick panel, and entered the code. She waited thirteen seconds before opening the door, Frank had been very specific with his instructions. 

“Frank?” She called out quietly. “Frank, are you here?”

The quiet was unsettling. The smell of coffee ever present was dulled the machine hadn’t been on today. She walked through the spartan style spaced looking for any signs of life, there were none. His bed creaked when she sat down on it, checking under the pillow. The photo of his family was still there. He hadn’t picked up and left.

“What did you do, you freaking idiot?” 

She put the photo back and checked her watch: 8:05pm. So much for going back home tonight. At least she knew how to use his coffee pot, she started the machine and sat down on his bed. Frank wasn’t one for furniture. She reclined for just a moment and closed her eyes. The last three days had been exhausting, it wasn’t like she’d be asleep for long. She felt sleep pulling at her and she surrendered to it with Frank's scent in her nostrils.

***

“You know there’s a story about a blonde girl sleeping in someone’s bed when they’re away.”

“Hi, Frank.”

“Hey, Karen.”

"You look like hell."

"Yeah. I got in a fight with a guy from Jersey." 

[catboygirljoker]

experimence for gunblues!saix...canon, then new hairstyle + canon color, then new hairstyle + new hair color.

gunmetal blues takes place in a world i try to make somewhat naturalistic and realistic (e.g. characters have full names now, so Xigbar's full legal name is Braig Alwyn and "Xigbar" is just his callsign) and most of the characters have visual designs that fit—even Axel i can see as someone who would dye and style his hair like that for fun. the problem is that Saïx has 1. a nontrivial role in the fic and 2. candy-colored hair.

i came up with an excuse to keep the yellow eyes—exposure to mako has a chance of causing certain (mostly benign) side effects. this can happen regardless of whether someone is an anthrogear—Xigbar got his yellow eye under Mysterious Plot-Significant Circumstances, for instance.

so i think mako exposure can also cause hair color to lighten and desaturate. this happened to Xemnas and Lamia, and I think it also happened to Saïx—his hair used to be a very dark black, so black that under some lighting it looks bluish.

(link to post with the basics of this AU for context)

[andcurioser]

last 3 lines

rules: in a new post, show the last three lines you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as you feel like.

I was tagged by @glorious-spoon - thank you for the tag!! I haven't done a writing meme in such a long time, so this was a delight! Here are, technically, the first lines of the fic I've been writing in my head since September but have barely put words to:

Eddie gets the idea while he’s fucking Buck.  He threads his fingers through Buck’s as he thrusts into him, drinking in the sight as Buck throws his head back and moans.  “Eddie,” Buck gasps, breath hitching. “God, you — I feel you everywhere.”  And Eddie thinks, oh. I want that.

This fic is both exactly and not at all what you might think from, you know. All that.

I'm tagging @avalonia320 because I know you're working on something, and beyond that I'm still in the "convinced I'm just annoying anyone I try to talk to in the 9-1-1 fandom" stage, so if you see this and want to play, please do and tag me with your excerpts! I love writing games!

[poet-to-none]

In a seperate post (posts), share three lines of what you last wrote or drew . . .

Frigid air wakes [Magnus] before daylight. It chilled his skin, like dampness, through his clothes and blankets, anywhere he's not touching to Lestat. He pats around the couch for his slippers, and stumbles up to turn on the heat.

–The Hunter and The Surgeon (CH4)

tag from @argyleheir, and much appreciated!

❣️

🫶

[spotsandsocks]

Things I’m grateful for when writing 911

That Chris and Chim both have two versions of their name for variety

The Bobby can be called Cap

Hen is often more easily identified in a scene cos she’s got female pronouns to work with

That there are many words for blue

Things I am not grateful for

That Buck rhymes with fuck

All the ‘he’ pronouns in a smut scene and keeping track of who’s his he him is whating who’s his what