#Hobo Writer

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited)¹ retired simon has nowhere to go, so you offer. [ one, two, three]

this was a stupid idea, a dangerous idea; one that could potentially get you hurt— you knew that, but the temperature was below freezing and you couldn't bear the thought of letting him walk to god knows where. you wouldn't allow that, not when you could offer help.

you came to a slow halt beside the man, rolling down the passenger side window and smiling softly, awkwardly. “hi! mind if i ask where you're headed?" he's taller than you assumed, standing at least a foot or two taller than you, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his all-black tee.

the fitted clothing accentuates his large frame, hinting at the strength that lies beneath. a mask covers his face, a skull painted onto the fabric, and a large military duffle bag is slung over his shoulder, weathered and worn.

he stops abruptly and gradually swivels his head to face you. his eyes are a striking shade of brown when they meet your gaze— they look……hollow, devoid of emotion. you smile once more and tilt your head, your palms slick with sweat against the steering wheel. “s’just, the temps gonna drop a bit more later in the night and i thought i’d give you a ride, so you don't freeze to death on your way.”

your attempt at a joke with the man falls short and you clear your throat and drum your thumbs softly, feeling a tad bit embarrassed. you jump when he finally speaks. his voice is like velvet dipped in honey. it's deep, rough, gravelly, and accented. you can't help but be taken aback for a moment, as a delightful warmth spreads through your body at the mere sound of it.

“y’r parents ever taugh’ you not ta talk t’strangers?”

you purse your lips and cluck your teeth, trailing behind him as he resumes his stride. sure, you should have driven off, gone back to your cozy apartment to indulge in a couple of movies, and drink yourself into a stupor but, you simply couldn't bring yourself to do so.

“my name’s _____, what’s yours?” he stops briefly and cranes his neck to the sky for a moment with a hint of irritation, before breathing out a heavy sigh; he seems hesitant, confused— and doubtful. then he turns to face you and your small fiat. “simon," he says softly. smiling you pull to a stop, “well, we’re not strangers anymore, simon.”

simon scoffs in slight amusement but slowly makes his way to you, when he reaches the passenger side window, you can clearly see a hint of distrust lingering in his eyes. it’s clear that he’s not accustomed to kindness from strangers. but you remain undeterred, your grin unwavering, as you lean over to open the door for him.

with a stiff nod of appreciation, he settles into the passenger seat, his worn-out bag settling between his thighs as he sinks into the comfort of the cushioned upholstery.

as you pull away from the curb, the man's eyes wander out the window, lost in thought. "so, where are you headed?" you ask gently, voice laced with genuine curiosity as you try to break the tension, your voice trembling slightly.

however, his response is nothing more than a cold, detached stare out the window. it’s as if he's not really there, as if his mind is lost in some distant place, far away from the reality of this moment. and yet, there's something captivating about his emptiness, something that draws you in despite the warning signs flashing in your mind.

“could be a killer.” simon voices, head slanting towards you; he looks comically large for your small fiat car and you can't help but smile. “are you?” he grunts but doesn't respond. the car speeds through the night, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the rhythmic thumping of your heart. he's like a puzzle waiting to be solved, a mystery begging to be unraveled; and you were curious.

“the nearest shelter,” he finally utters. “thats where i’m headed.” you hum softly and swallow thickly; this was a stupid idea, a dangerous idea; one that could potentially get you hurt, you knew that, but—

“stay with me tonight.”

[doctorhouse5343]

Hobo Heart : *humming as he prepares a mistletoe*

Hob : Awww, are you getting ready for a Christmas kiss? It's a bit early though...

Hobo Heart : *looks at him seriously* It's a mistlefoe.

Hob : ....a what?

Hobo Heart : Mistlefoe. Whoever stands underneath the mistlefoe with me will be fighting against me

Hob : *worried* With pillows, right?

Hobo Heart : *silent before glancing at Dream, who is crossing his arms while staring at him* *sighs* Yes...

Hob : Phew, that's a relief

Dream : Do remind me to send an invite to my dear sibling when the time comes

Hob : Dream, no!!

a little funny to make me happy while I suffer at the hands of words

[itlearns]

A game of poker

"Do you wanna deal?” He shuffles the deck deftly. It’s mesmerizing in a way.

“I trust you”, you shake your head. Definitely not because you don’t want to look awkward with all the cards sliding out of your hands and falling everywhere.

“Huh. An interesting statement. I expect a fair game from you then.”

“The expectation is mutual”, you respond through your teeth. 

[july-19th-club]

annoyed at myself for always starting my fics with the injuries and the wound care. like thats the best part ill be too bored to finish writing once we get this all over with

[mbrainspaz]

Finished adding a new scene to chapter 1 this morning, sitting and looking out at the lake at my uncle's mansion. I've been working in a manic state on my 'vacation' ever since I heard that my full time ranch job decided to make their budgeting issues my problem. Last year money got as tight as it could get thanks to greed-flation and basic care for all my senior animals. It's so hard to constantly look at my life and say, "I don't deserve this." But I don't. All the best things in my life I cling to with the desperation of a thief. As my rich uncle likes to remind me—

The freedom to write and work on my comic? I'm too poor for that.

The horse I dreamt of since I was 5? Waaaaay too poor for that.

The dogs who've been my family for almost 10 years? Never should have adopted them.

I know I've rarely made enough to budget much more than food and shelter, and sometimes not even that. My greatest flaw is that I would rather starve myself and live on the run than give up what I love living for.

Und wehe anyone but Death himself tries to take these few precious things from me.

My inheritance was depression and there have been many times in my life when I looked around and recognized that the most practical and convenient thing I could do would be to stop wasting the air, so I'm never going to exist in this world as a money savvy cynic. In the best moments I find I've stolen the space to exist and breathe in the smell of warm dogs and horse sweat, and feel the satisfying clickity clack of keys under my fingers.

Cheers to 2024—May I kick it in the teeth and hack its disney+ account.

[thebeesareinhere]

I updated the Norm Allen fanfiction; chapter 2 is now out, and chapter 3 is planned for some time in the semi-near future (aka whenever me and my friends decide to sit down together again and write)

[theguccihobo]

"The chosen one"

-The Gucci Hobo

[swiftzeldas]

Diana Fowley getting killed off screen is a choice……

[literaryvein-reblogs]

words for when your characters get into a fight (pt. 4)

Pain

ache, anesthesia/anaesthesia, distress, harassment, hurt, pinch, strain, suffer, torture, wrong

Attack

aggression, assail, beat up, blast, blind-side, bomb, brutality, charge, come at, coup d’état, embroil, encroach, fire, foray, go for, infest, insurrection, invasion, lay into, mug, occupation, offensive, onslaught, overrun, pillage, pounce, raid, ravage, rush, sortie, subvert, waylay

To destroy

ablate, abolition, annul, batter, bomb, bring down, burst, butcher, clobber, come unglued, consumption, coup de grâce, crumple, cut down, decimate, deforestation, demolition, desecrate, desolate, devastate, dismantle, dispatch, do away with, do in, end, endanger, eradicate, erosion, execute, expunge, exterminate, extinguish, finish, genocide, hara-kiri, homicide, jeopardize, kill, knock off, liquidate, mangle, massacre, murder, obliterate, paralyze, pillage, poison, prostrate, pulverize, put away, put out, quench, raze, ruin, sack, shiver, slaughter, smash, stamp out, subdue, suppress, undo, vandalism, violation, wipe out, wreck

To injure

abuse, ail, batter, beat, bruise, cost, crush, debilitate, deface, deform, desecrate, devastate, disagree, disfigure, expose, fragment, gripe, handicap, hurt, incapacitate, jeopardize, lacerate, maim, mar, mistreat, mutilate, outrage, paralyze, poison, pummel, repay, ruin, sabotage, scar, shatter, shoot, smart, snap, spoil, stress, taint, torture, turn, violate, vitiate, wrong

To make dirty

adulterate, clutter, mess up, smudge, stain, tarnish

To make hot or cold

air, chill, freeze, heat, melt, numb, refrigerate, shrivel, warm

To make wet

absorb, dampen, dip, drench, drool, dunk, extinguish, marinate, oil, permeate, saturate, souse, splash, spray, squirt, submerge

Military action

barrage, blow up, conflict, coup d’état, deploy, deposition, dethrone, disarm, draft, engage, enlist, explosion, incursion, induction, invade, maneuver, occupation, offensive, overthrow, rebellion, revolt, salute, station, volley, warfare

Bad person

accessory, accurser, adversary, aggressor, alarmist, antagonist, ass, assassin, authoritarian, barbarian, bigmouth, bottom feeder, bum, burglar, cad, captive, charlatan, clod, cold fish, conspirator, criminal, crook, culprit, deadbeat, delinquent, demon, derelict, desperado, devil, dirty old man, dolt, do-nothing, dope, dregs, drone, dumbbell, dunce, enemy, espionage, exile, failure, fall guy, femme fatale, fighter, firebrand, fool, fugitive, gangster, glutton, good-for-nothing, gossip, grump, hellion, hobo, hot dog, hypocrite, imbecile, impostor, incubus, insurgent, intruder, Judas, killer, klutz, know-it-all, lawbreaker, lemon, loafer, loser, lummox, mad person, maniac, menace, misanthrope, miser, mole, mountebank, naysayer, ne’ er-do-well, nuisance, nut, ogre, organized crime, parasite, pawn, pessimist, pill, placebo, prodigal, prostitute, psychopath, quack, rascal, renegade, rogue, ruffian, sap, scamp, schlemiel, Scrooge, shirked, shyster, simpleton, skinflint, sleazebag, sneak, sourpuss, spy, swindler, tattletale/tattler, thug, tool, traitor, troll, truant, tyrant, vandal, wanton, whipping boy, wimp, witch

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary.

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary Writing Notes: Fight Scenes ⚜ Word Lists: Fight ⚜ Pain

[spawnofbhaal]

A take I've been seeing at times (which is valid, people interpret things differently) is that Rook will know the "real" Solas more than the Inquisitor did (even a romanced Lavellan) and . . . I personally don't agree. Solas the god is just as much of a mask as "I'm a simple apostate" Solas. Solas' followers in Tevinter Nights and the comics know him as Fen'Harel, but they don't know him as a person. Iirc in one of the comics (the Blue Wraith or Magekiller series maybe?) a follower of his calls him "master," which is anathema to everything Solas believes in. How much your character (Inquisitor or presumably Rook) gets to know the real him depends on the effort they put into it and the empathy they show him.

Also, the circumstances of Inquisition facilitate Solas being able to show his true personality quite well. He *has* to interact with people rather than distancing himself from them the way he did before the Conclave and after Corypheus' defeat; he is exposed to views that differ from his that he can't resist speaking against; he can form true connections with others he befriends or falls in love with. He tells romanced Lavellan they saw more of him than most, and that he would not romance them under false pretenses and pretend to be someone he isn't. I take these statements at face value because I think his writer is trying to tell us Solas is genuine with romanced Lavellan (as they have said to fans in the past). The man who loves telling stories, who hates tea and loves frilly cakes, who kisses with tongue, who lights his own coat on fire sometimes, that is the real Solas. The Inquisitor just has to pay attention to see it.

While someone's history is an important part of who they are, and I'm sure we will discover a lot about Solas' past in Veilguard, a person is also not entirely defined by their history. Solas' past and present godlike power is also not what defines him as a person. The impression I got from Trespasser is that even though Fen'Harel is an important part of who Solas is, at the center of it all, he's just a man. Fen'Harel was a title forced upon him, as Inquisitor was forced on our protagonist. I don't think Solas' entire personality is going to change just because he's taken on the mantle of Fen'Harel again now. And I don't think he will be entirely transparent with Rook, not unless they work hard for his trust over the course of the game. I actually expect Solas to start off as more cold and closed off than in DAI because he isn't in a situation where he has to act friendly.

I somewhat resent the implication that Solas as he has already shown himself to be in DAI is not the real Solas, that romanced!Lavellan only loves him as the apostate hobo when the whole point of the romance is Lavellan seeing past the disguise. And Lavellan learns the truth of him being Fen'Harel in Trespasser (Lavellan can even piece it together by themselves before they confront Solas!!!) and can still be in love with him ("If you had just told me;" "I loved you. Did you really think I wouldn't have understood?"; "I would have had you trust me"). Honestly, I think that's why the romance works at all: Solas was in a situation where he could show his genuine personality, and that's what Lavellan falls in love with. Not an idealized humble woodsman, nor a powerful godlike being, but a flawed, conflicted person. I don't know how it gets more "real" than that.

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited)² retired simon has nowhere to go, so you offer. [ one, two, three]

it took a lot of convincing to get him to your little apartment, like trying to move a massive brick wall with a feather. however, in the end, he gave in— not that he had much of a say in the matter, considering the fact that the two of you were already at your home amidst arguing (which, to be fair, was predominantly one-sided as he persistently uttered 'no' in response to all your counterarguments).

in all honesty, you couldn't quite figure out why you were so insistent on having a stranger, especially a strange man, stay with you in your much too tiny apartment. perhaps it was your festive december spirit, the idea of someone being alone during this time of year just didn't sit right with you. besides it was just for the night, then you could take him to the shelter.

he’d been quiet as you set up everything for him, he was imposing, tall, and somewhat scary (primarily due to his skull mask and his overall silent demeanor). but strangely enough, you didn't feel unsafe with him, despite the fact that you probably should have. after all, he was a man, and he undoubtedly outweighed you by at least 100 pounds. killing you and getting away with it would be easy for him. and, why the hell were you contemplating this now, instead of when you first picked him up from the side of the street?

perhaps it was the way he carried himself, with a sense of calm and control that was almost hypnotic. or maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to pierce through you, yet held a hint of sadness that made you feel a strange sense of empathy toward him. whatever the reason, you found yourself drawn to him.

as you finished setting up the couch, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, trying to decipher his thoughts and emotions. but his expression remained unreadable, his mask hiding any hint of vulnerability or emotion. it was both frustrating and intriguing, making you wonder what secrets lay hidden behind that skull mask.

“um, so the shower is just down the hall, oh! feel free to look through the fridge for something,” you smile awkwardly at the tall man and gesture to your room door, “if you need anything just let me know.” his gaze remains fixated upon the makeshift bed you have prepared, adorned with a spare comforter of a soft, faded hue resembling baby blue, adorned with delicate flowers which sprawls across the expanse of your pull-out sofa.

simon, ever the brooding man, says a small, stiff thank you; ready for you to leave him alone you're sure. wiping your sweaty palms on your denim-clad thighs, you gently press your lips together and affirmatively bob your head. “alright, well, goodnight simon.” without waiting for a response, that you were sure you weren't going to get, you scuttle off to your bedroom, swiftly closing the door and attempting to lock it as quietly as possible. however, the resounding click makes you think he’s heard it.

letting out a weary sigh you slide down your door, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone. with a gentle motion, you begin to skim through your contacts and find your best friend. it rings once, twice before she picks up with a tired hello.

“if i die tonight, i love you.”

you catch the faint sound of her perplexed murmur, followed by the gentle click of her bedside lamp over the phone. it was late, far too late for you to have disturbed her with a call, you knew that— should’ve called your sister or something.

“have you been drinking?”

you give a slight eye roll before curling your legs up to your chest. “no, not yet. anyways, i think i might've done something very dumb," you admit, trailing off as you nervously nibble on the inside of your cheek, feeling the soft flesh give way under your teeth. your friend lets out a quiet grunt. “well? spit it out.”

“so, i picked up a homeless guy on the side of the road and offered him a ride to the shelter but instead i brought him to my apartment and now he’s in my living room, about to sleep on my couch,” you utter quickly— and she's silent for a moment, it's a loud silence, one that makes your heart beat quickly in your chest. you run a hand down your face and take a deep breath, sighing heavily. “say something.” your voice is filled with a mix of impatience and anxiety.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

[doctorhouse5343]

Hob : *takes Hobo Heart's hand in his own, after confessing his and Dream's feelings towards him* You don't have to say anything or make a decision, just know that if you ever need anything, our door is always open for you

Hobo Heart : *scampers off to break it off with Desire*

[felassan]

David Gaider on Shale, under a cut for length:

"Oops! I realized I'd moved on from DAO but missed one of the companions I'd written. Which checks out, honestly, because I almost didn't write Shale and, even after I'd written her, she almost didn't happen anyhow. Then she did. Prepare yourself for... PIGEON QUEST. 🦤 So... I'm wracking my brain, but I don't recall how Shale began. I have this vague memory of us wanting a "weird" party member who didn't conform to the normal classes (this was back when Dog didn't need to be in the party), and I think my mind drifted to an old indie comic character named Concrete."

"Now, your reaction to that is probably "who?" That's OK. When I explain that HK-47 in KotOR was inspired by an old Canadian TV show called the Littlest Hobo I get the same perplexed response. 😅 In short: Concrete was just a regular dude. Who happened to also be a walking hulk of rock. Cue hi-jinx. The problem here is I don't remember whether the Concrete thing was part of the original inspiration or something I thought of at the point when I started writing the character. Because I didn't, at first. That was later. Shale was initially taken on by Jay Turner, then one of our junior writers. Jay had an idea to make Shale more of a robot, an emotionless automoton killer... think HK-47, but without the layer of sarcasm. I was leery, and told Jay he'd have to be very careful. "Emotionless" can very quickly turn into "boring", after all, unless you're VERY careful. But Jay was determined. Sigh. This was a fail on my part, as his lead. There's been a couple of times in my career when I've let a junior convince me with their enthusiasm to take on something my experience said they shouldn't. And then watch their confidence crumble despite every effort I made to reassure them it was OK. This was one of those times. Jay, no idea if you'll read this but: I'm sorry. Even an experienced writer would have found that a daunting challenge. Tonia, my other Big Fail on a similar situation in DAI: I'm sorry. Both times, I should have known. You did your best, but I set you up to fail. 😔"

"Jay did his best, and this version of Shale was certainly interesting... but, when he was done, it was one of those peer reviews where every writer had that look of "I'm REALLY sorry to say this..." It felt flat. Jay tried numerous revisions, but the issue wasn't his ability - it was the concept. I only allowed my writers a certain number of tries before I take it away. This hearkens back to an earlier time at Bio when writers would hack away at something that wasn't working 6, 7, 8 times or more until finally their soul was dust. Mike Laidlaw can attest. Revision isn't always the answer. So I moved (a much relieved, I think) Jay onto something else, and the question arose: what do we do with Shale? Do we cut it? It was already very late. Then Shale dropped in my lap. I don't remember if it was me refusing to let it go or maybe Brent (Knowles, Creative Director) giving it to me. I suspect it was the latter, because I recall being a bit bitter about the whole thing. WHAT am I going to do with this character? At the time, they'd moved me out of the writers pit to instead be in a big office with the other leads. I had this corner desk by a window (yay) with an awful view (ugh) What was so awful about it? It looked out onto the neighbouring roof, where there was only an HVAC unit to see. In the winter, pigeons would gather around it. They pooped all over everything - there was this alcove around the access door, right? The pigeons roosted there and it was POOP FAUCET city."

"Not only that, the pigeons used the HVAC like some kind of sex den. Angry, ugly pigeon sex. The only respite was when a hawk would appear and the pigeons scattered. Then I'd get maybe a day when there was a single pigeon corpse, like an exploded ball of down, to act as a scarecrow. Good days, those. What does any of this have to do with Shale? Well, there's me, staring out the window trying desperately to think what I'm going to do. But I CAN'T stare out the window because, gross. But what else am I going to stare at while I think? It was making me furious. I hated those pigeons SO SO MUCH. And then it hit me: Shale is basically an animated statue, right? Something that pigeons are rather notorious for also gathering on? And so I wrote. I wrote like the angry, angry wind. I had zero time to do this so it was basically me vomiting all my annoyance at everything into a single character. Not that it helped much. There was a battle going on over Shale - first, as I recall, it was the art team. They were going to make every doorway in the game EXTRA HUGE because they were worried that Shale was too large and might clip. So, yes, let's alter the whole world to fix that. Good idea. 🙃 Eventually, they compromised by making Shale smaller. Sten-sized. Or Brent went Akira mode, but I don't really know. This was a battle happening above my level. Yet Shale got cut anyhow. There wasn't time to do her abilities and we were short on cinematics time. There was never enough time on DAO."

""Oh well," I thought. "That's that." I did what I could, but cut content is almost never resurrected. The idea was floated of making Shale into a DLC but I scoffed. Yeah, right! But... it happened. That's why the "almost" is there. Enough of the team liked Shale they made it happen this one time. This meant I could finish up the writing once we'd more or less wrapped DAO, and the rest of the team (cinematics, in particular, who were pressed the hardest for time) could move onto the Shale DLC once they were ready. It was supposed to come out well after release, but you know. Shenanigans. This particular shenanigan was EA deciding to sit on the finished DAO a few months in order to delay the release. Why? Again, not my level. To get closer to Christmas, maybe, or maybe for sim ship. It did mean Shale ended up being ready for release day. Unexpected confluence of events, honestly. Cue some fans getting upset that "cut content" was sold to them separately, which... fair, I guess? The alternative would have been that Shale was simply cut, period, and it just worked out this way but... yes, fair. This was back when DLC was the main beef of hardcore gamers. Oh, the good old days. Overall? I have a soft spot for Shale. She has no soft spot for anyone, being... you know... made of rock. It's why I put her in Asunder, and why she was also going to be in the - apparently now notorious for its Fenris murder - cancelled fourth DA novel. Also, if you're a pigeon fan: not sorry. 😇"

[source thread]

[lakshana-ke-lakshan]

Wtf is happening with ishman fandom? When we're not being fed anything, Ishan literally on a hiatus, then istg the fanfics were SO GOOD and now? When we're being spoon fed the content? The quality of the fanfics goes down? no offence.

like y'all, as a writer, who was forced to write because of less, but good content, i can't help but be annoyed with the fandom rn. Cuz I literally wrote my ff because there was no omegaverse ishman fluff!!!?!

So the point is that the stories are very repetitive, grammar is wrong (not like I'm Shakespeare's butt hole but still, there are some limits to galat English?), there is just- Nothing new? To be excited about?

I remember the time when I used to keep refreshing the app in case any new updates came and now, I haven't literally opened the app since forever. There is just one author, who i wait for, and they stopped posting the same time around which I stopped posting. So ya, I'm not alone

And don't call me Hardik- you ain't loyal to one fandom- look, ik I ain't but I just got over it?! And vaise bhi fanfics ka cringe alag hi chall Raha hai

It's always the same now- mafia Shubman, hobo ishan or some royalty au, or some businessman CEO Shubman and poor ishan, omega ishan hiding his gender, and ishan running away with his child blah blah blah

Yes there are many new ideas, but i couldn't possibly know cuz I haven't opened any fabric since ages

So ya, ishman is having its downfall era on Wattpad

WRITERS DO SOMETHING

I BEG OF YOU

and if anyone could recommend the best, mouthwatering, booty hole clenching fanfic where there is a new plot, and shub is not bottom(he's never a bottom), please do recommend them to me. Pretty please

[mbrainspaz]

me driving past all the empty mansions on the street where I work: what if my OC's who can teleport secretly lived there because the owners are never home —

[theguccihobo]

"The Stork"

-The Gucci Hobo