#gremlin writing

[smol-feralgremlin]

FebruarOC Day 3: Cob

Name: Cob

Breed: ???

Bought at a technically illegal horse auction by Anthron. No one knows any specifcs on him outside of his colour, his age(10), and that he only likes Anthron.

Fairly murderous for a horse.

[artemisdesari-blog]

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[pangur-and-grim]

okay sorry, one other thing annoyed me about that writing class. one of the students is this super clean-cut doctor who works at an HIV clinic, and he asked the prof "do you ever get distracted while reading books, because you find yourself analyzing the craft of them instead of sinking into the story?"

and she said "no," and turned away. and the whole class laughed awkwardly, bc it was a pretty abrupt and dismissive answer. so then she turned back to him and said "you wouldn't ask a musician if they get distracted listening to songs. they just enjoy the music."

but I dunno, I'm a newbie writer with only one (scheduled-to-be-published) book under my belt, but I get distracted sometimes when I'm reading. if I find I'm not sinking into a block of text, I'll squint at it and be like "okay, they're using too much passive voice, that's why my brain isn't grabbing on to it." so I'm sorry Mr. HIV doctor, I thought your question was reasonable!

[smol-feralgremlin]

Sylpha: Custom sized short swords, dual wielded/ Fire/ as many knives as she can hide on her body Aldon: War bow....preferably on horseback.

Alim: Talwar/magic Pippa: Longbow/Devastating sass

Alaric: Magic Fay: Anything bladed preferable

Ves: Staff. Gentle bonks. It's the expression of disappointment that'll get you first though Ulric: Crestovan military standard hand-and-a-half sword, and his attitude.

Rhys: Long knife/Asking a dragon very nicely Ali: Broomstick

Sen: Sling/obsidian knife. Will refuse to kill people. Thats taboo. Mal: Heavy wooden staff. But why does he need a weapon? He's not killing anything, and he'd rather not hurt things.

Ubon: Longbow...that the public knows about anyways. Jasur: The nearest knife if you get in his way when he trying to fucking cook/hunting bow Minoru: Actually a pacifist. Hope you like getting disarmed by a blacksmith though.

Weylon: Literally whatever he can get his hands on first. Lorai: Dagger

Wren: Longbow Theo: Unfortunate use of fiddle strings/ he's actually going to hide behind Wren.

Anthron: Standard longsword Jem: Crossbow Lira: Staff Vera: CAST IRON TO THE FACE

Nyrra: Short sword. Quin: Definitely not the sickles that are a symbol of office. He's got people for that.

Jaia: Whatever her lady asks of her.

what's your oc's weapon of choice?

[skyrigel]

Daniel was asking the time when he would be skinned alive

[iamrizaka]

As much as I love the idea of Will wearing Lee's flannel after his death, I much more prefer a scenario where he was constantly trying to steal it when Lee wasn't looking. Lee got fed up with this gremlin child (affectionate) trying to steal his clothes (he knows that he should toss it out, burn it, but he can't bring himself to do it; it holds way too many memories) so he gets a green flannel and embroiders it with little sun symbols.

He hides it in one of the secret rooms in the infirmary, because he can't have any of his siblings – or worse, a spy – stumble across it in his cabin. He leaves it here and makes a promise to give it to Will on his birthday.

Over a year later, Will tries to find a place to hide – no one should see their head counselor and head medic cry. He finds this room and remembers the talks about it and how it was one of Lee and Luke's secret hideouts. He wants to leave; he doesn't need another memory of what it was and what it could've been. But his gut tells him to enter and he finds a neatly packaged box.

There's a green flannel and a note:

For my little brother, Will

— Lee

P.S. stop stealing my clothes!

He never takes it off.

[bluerosefox]

Of Tiny Tots, Mistaken Identities, and Reunions

Seventeen year old Damian Wayne is dragged to a business deal outside of Gotham (along with his father and Drake), mostly to keep up appearances that the family does work outside of Gotham, networking, and because Damian does need to learn the ropes of the company, he decides to head outside the meeting with the Manson family to get a breather (mainly cause the Manson's were annoying him fully, it was like they were trying to suck up towards Damian and trying to push their daughter on him but at the same time he caught them almost insulting and hostile towards him before they would stop and correct themselves) when out of the blue a three year old toddler with black hair comes running over with a cheerful "Daddy!" and latches onto his leg.

Damian is stunned in place but feels frozen when he hears a voice, older and almost identical to his own but he can detect a familiarity in it, a voice he only hears in his dreams nowadays say.

"Ellie, no! That's not me Starlight! I'm so sorry dude-"

When Damian turned his head towards the voice he's meet with an near identical face, granted there were some minor differences, but very, very familiar pair of striking blue eyes staring at him. Eyes that were somehow full of life, which shouldn't be possible because the last time he saw those eyes they had been dim and milked over years ago. The speaker had become startled at the his sudden turn and the words that he had been saying had quickly died out when he too took in Damian's features.

"D...Damian?..." the name came out so soft and small that Damian almost didn't hear it but he did.

And before Damian could stop himself, he spoke a name he hadn't dared utter in years.

"Danyal."

His twin looked like he had just seen a ghost, and Damian was sure he looked the same. And given the last time they had last saw each other it was no wonder they both looked like death warmed over them for a moment.

After all... Damian had failed to protect his brother, Danyal al Ghul all those years ago on a botched mission.

His bother who... wasn't dead.

His brother who was looking like he wanted to run but was keeping himself rooted in his spot.

His brother whose eyes were glancing downwards and seemed so nervous.

His brother who knew the little girl, Ellie, still hugging his legs.

His brother who had... responded and corrected her mix up when she had called Damian 'Daddy.'

And oh, she's looking up at him and making grabby hands wanting to be picked up and she has Danyal's eyes and his nose and-

Oh... Damian.... Damian's an uncle it seems.

[smol-feralgremlin]

I love this.

Sylpha will put money on how many she can lick, actually. Or if no one takes her up on it, she'll lick it unflinchingly after she's made eye contact with everyone in the room and knows they're watching her.

Aldon...is not licking that thing. He will take it and bring it to Cal and ask him about it though, before they both do experiments with it, most definitely bringing Gallus in as well.

Fay is deeply confused. Confused enough she hands it off to Alaric to make it his problem now. (because thats the only thing mentors are good for)

Alaric is going to do a test lick, just to see. And then hand it back with an interesting mix of disgust and curiosity. Whoever dared him will have to deal with questions now.

Lira is going to lick the battery immediately. And then keep licking it because it feels funny and she likes....until either Jem or Anthron takes it away from her.

Jem licks it to figure out why Lira kept licking it, and then tells Anthron its a deeply interesting experience. Borderline spiritual. He might even convert about it.

Anthron takes a tiny lick, and then calls Jem an asshole. And then starts calling him target practice and the two of them scuffle about it.

Vera takes the batteries away. No way is she touching it further.

Writers' Chat: Your characters are dared to lick a battery. What happens?

Who licks it? Who refuses? Who's too confused to even give a response? Share how you think your characters would act so we can learn more about them, and—as always—please lick responsibly.

Writers chat prompts

Share an excerpt prompts

Writeblr Engagement Prompts Overview

[emo-gremlin]

The Doctor x Reader SFW Headcanons!

💻 Refers to you as his prize experiment or his special lab rat.

💻 He isn't romantic in the conventional sense. He never was one to express his emotions well. But you can tell in little ways that he does care about you.

💻 He still tends to study you, and your reactions to things. Taking notes on your interactions with Yarnaby, how you sleep, what you enjoy, etc.

💻 Insanely touch starved and in eternal denial about it. Vaguely protests to cuddles, and secretly looses his mind if you fall asleep on him. (Think of how if a cat sleeps on you it is illegal to move)

💻 You know he cares about you when he leaves you and Yarnaby alone together. He lets you get close to him, eventually leading Yarnaby to become just as protective of you as he is The Doctor himself.

💻 Will carry you to bed/tuck you in if he catches you asleep. He will act like he did no such thing.

💻 He may not understand all the "memes" and "tiktoks" you tell him about, but he at least listens.

💻 He likes dissecting medical dramas with you in his off time. Loves pointing out inaccuracies and flaws. His favorite is nip/tuck.

💻 You watched human centipede with him once.

You: augh i hate these guys at work

Harley: *picks up scalpel*

You: Put. It. Down.

Harley: >:(

💻 Is surprisingly good at giving massages. His knowledge of human anatomy is unparalleled and his metal hands are perfect in rubbing out the tense spots. Though....he only really does this either on special occasions or if he REALLY wants something.

💻 You and Yarnaby are the only people he trusts to leave him to charge. During this time, he's in sleep mode and vulnerable.

Bonus Yarnaby and reader headcanons!

🦁 If he sees you laying on the bed, he lays right next to you, letting you snuggle right up to him.

🦁 Purrs a LOT around you, being one of the first to treat him with genuine love and kindness in a long time.

🦁 Your kindness to him has even taught The Doctor to be kinder to him too.

🦁 He loves playing keep away with his toys, tug of war too.

🦁 Can and will drag you along while on walks. Most of the neighborhood knows now to keep out of his way.

🦁 He brings you his toys if he sees you upset. They cheer him up, so they should work for you too!

🦁 Loves cuddling up with you and the Doctor. He...did accidentally break your leg once when you and the Doctor starting living together. You had to train him how to get up into your lap.

🦁 Will butt his head against you for attention.

🦁 You will know when it's time to feed him. He has hit you with his food bowl before trying to get your attention.

🦁 Will curl up in Harley's lap while he charges.

🦁 Once tore apart a bear who broke into your backyard. It took weeks to wash out the blood stains.

🦁 Tackles you every time you come home from work. Same with Harley.

Enjoy <3

[gremlin-girly]

Weighted Blanket

Part of the Sleepy!reader collection

Bob Reynolds x gn!reader ft. The Thunderbolts* (as a bonus)

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through an AI machine.

Tags/warnings: Fluff, cuddling, it can be platonic or romantic :)

Summary: You offer to share your blanket with Bob.

Word count: 816 words

A/N: This was a quick little drabble since one of the other fics I was meant to keep under 1k quickly became about 3. Oopsies.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Bob Reynolds Masterlist | Sleepy!reader Collection | Main Masterlist

You were as snug as a bug in a rug. An apt description for you being stuck under your horrendously large weighted blanket.

Most of the team were away which meant the tower was quiet and the TV in the main room was free. You'd put on an old favourite of yours and piled in snacks, not that you could reach them under the weight of the blanket, but you had at least two days of making the most of being a couch potato.

You weren't even ten minutes into your movie when your eyes started fluttering, the crushing comfort of the blanket forcing your body to remain relaxed. You're about to allow sleep to take you when you're startled by a sound behind you.

"This movie's pretty good."

You turn your head to see Bob standing near the kitchenette with an empty glass. His voice wobbles slightly, and it's clear he's upset about something. Your heart breaks. You feel a little guilty for forgetting he hadn't gone on this mission with the rest of the gang but you decide you can make it up to him.

"Wanna watch it with me?" You ask with a smile. "I've got snacks and my blanket that we can share."

Bob looks torn, eye flitting back in the direction of his room and then to you, swaying on the spot. For a moment you think he'll turn you down, however, he nods and makes his way towards the sofa.

You heave your blanket off to make space and once he's comfortably sat you drape it as gracefully as you can over him.

"Oof." Bob winces slightly as the heaviness hit him.

"Sorry." You apologise sheepishly. "Weighted blanket. I can get you another one?"

"No it's alright." Bob nods, sipping from his water and stretching his legs out onto the coffee table. "It's nice."

Twenty minutes after the addition of Bob on the couch, your eyes have closed and, unbeknownst to you, you're now bundled against him.

Bob felt a rush of happiness when your sleepy body had angled into him but he had to admit that the blanket was working it's magic on him too and fighting off sleep was becoming harder and harder.

Bob's head lolled lazily and he rested his cheek on your head. Your shampoo smelled like lavender which didn't help his sleepy state and he ran his fingers over the soft skin of your shoulder for a few minutes until his hand dropped back against the couch and he fell asleep.

Bob woke up first and felt refreshed, anxieties from the night before dwindled to manageable embers, made better by the fact that you were still curled against him (if not a little closer than last night).

When you woke up, since Bob decided he wouldn't wake you and let you sleep, you'd apologised for falling asleep so quickly the night before and hurriedly brushed away any remnants of drool from his shirt.

"I didn't last long either." Bob admits with pink cheeks. "I'd like to do it again sometime. I don't think I've ever slept so good."

"Me neither." You confess, sitting up slightly. "How's about we have a movie day? I don't have any errands to run but I can grab us breakfast and we could try to watch the movie this time?"

Bob grins at you, his heart doing backflips. "Sounds good. I'll get the coffee."

End

Bonus:

The Thunderbolts were never usually finished up missions early. Apparently, this one was the exception to the rule and when they entered to the main room and found you and Bob curled up on the giant sofa under your blanket with the TV lights flickering after a day of movies, they just about lost their minds.

"Aww," Alexei said tearfully, heart ready to burst. Yelena and Ava were busy trying to hold together fits of cuteness-aggression at the sight while Bucky and Walker sighed with attempted nonchalance.

Yelena silently crept over to take a space beside Bob, shushing Walker when he asked what she was doing. Ava went next, teleporting onto your side.

Then men left all shared a look. Alexei beamed as he dashed beside Yelena, picking up an extra blanket and almost tripping over the coffee table, and Bucky with a sigh (and a slight smile) joined the end, leaving Walker space to join Ava on the other side of the couch.

You stirred first, blinking up and seeing Ava's face next to yours.

"You're back?"

"We all are." John's voice echoes behind her and you crane your neck to the other side of the couch where Yelena, Alexei and Bucky's faces come into view all smiling. You try not to snort and wake Bob as you lean back into him.

"Sleepy heads." Yelena sighs happily, picking up the TV remote and flicking through the movie selection. "Now, what movie to watch..."

A/N: I missed the first round of avengers tower fics... I'm not missing these.

Taglist - add yourself here

@looking1016 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @almostglitterybear @blackhawkfanatic @peaches1958

[smol-feralgremlin]

FebruarOC Day 2: Barda

I am claiming that horses count as OCs. They are characters in themselves too and they don't let anyone forget it

Name: Barda

Breed: Alcadian War horse

Aldon's constant horse companion for most of the story. Easily his favourite of the whole herd. Barda was an effort between Aldon and his mother, Lyra, before her death. Born when Aldon was 15, he's well known for being very loyal and stubborn.

[fandomhorde]

In the beginning, there was an author with a dream.

But the dream grew legs.

And when it did, I grinned.

Oh, the way I grinned.

Mwahahahahahaha (Boss music starts playing)

[danmguido]

Let your drafts breathe!

I do it so damn often and I think it's fitting to say as a first post:

The minute you finish a story, don't dive right into the editing. For God's sake, spare yourself the heartache. You're fresh off the marathon, give your legs time to rest.

I write a lot of horror short stories as I'm working on a debut collection. This flow has saved my life:

Draft story 1 → finish → take a day or two off → get obsessed with story 2 → finish story 2 → rest again → then edit story 1. Don't edit as you go, no matter how much that little gremlin on your shoulder is hissing:

"You used an adverb here, you misspelled this, consult the thesaurus there's a better word for that, what if this isn't any good, what if the nukes fly tomorrow, what if you forgot to save, what if you-"

No. What if nothing.

What if you finish the story?

What if this is the one that gets you published?

What if you zip that lip and let your newborn breathe?

The What-If Gremlin is a double edged sword.

It gives me story seeds, and then it tries to spoil them. My fingers rush to type as I write through nausea, doubt and hellfire. It does you well to remember you're not a sailor, you're the captain. Steer the ship to port, then rest.

If it's a short story, a few days off can work. A novel? Weeks. Take weeks. Go live. You can't write honest fiction, or edit it for that matter, if you aren't also living. Sometimes the most honest thing you can do is step away so the inner critic can't cannibalize you both.

You could:

Lose yourself in another story

Listen to your favorite albums and go for walks

Go to an art museum

Find inspiration whistling through the days you spend in the sun

My short story "Tender" was born at a Barbecue joint with family, and writing was the furthest thing from my mind.

Editing is crucial, of course it is, but it isn't the same as creating. They require different versions of you. How can you cut something up and carve a masterpiece if you're still bleeding out? Go put a band aid on dammit, and may it smell like Spring and cover you like Fall.

[mxanigel]

🕯️ 🕯️ 🕯️ 🕯️ 🕯️ I will enjoy my brainrot 🕯️ 🕯️ even when no one else does 🕯️ 🕯️ 🕯️ 🕯️ 🕯️ 🕯️ 🕯️

[smol-feralgremlin]

Real question is which of them doesn't suffer from them

Uhm.....biggest sufferers of the night terrors are Ulric, Sylpha, Aldon, Alim, and Fay.

which oc has night terrors?

[deerspherestudios]

If anyone's wondering how the new VN for the Monstrous Desires jam is going,,