#in the writing trenches

[captainstressed]

newfound respect for those who write smut. is it normal to take breaks because even though im the writer, im also surprised by what these characters are doing?!

[xxplastic-cubexx]

personal happiness or what the fuck ever

bonus:

[leafdoodles]

Long overdue fan art for @watcheraurora’s ranchers superhero au fics because my god have those fics been rattling round my brain at a constant rate.

[ckret2]

in writing Bill Cipher dialogue all I aspire to is to drop some turn of phrase that's as simple & casual and yet deeply evocative as "You've got a hell of a moral compass buddy. Gets a bit tedious, doesn't it? How'd you like to take that compass for a spin?"

[aevris]

doodle of a bat/myotis sonar operator for a setting i'm rotating in my brain

[ping-ski]

damn you DCA for lighting that joyful spark i thought i lost, giving me some form of warm comfort i can run back to when it gets tough and bringing back whimsy into my life cause now all i want to think about, draw about, sing about, talk about, write about is you

[measurelessdreamer]

One of these scogan Post-X-Men: Days of the Future Past fics where Logan changes things so everyone from the original timeline is alive and he’s back at the school and about to find out somehow that he and Scott are a thing in this new timeline, but first, after Logan is done explaining himself to Charles, Scott is charged with showing him the way to his room and they talk sort of but not really and all of a sudden they both hear a very happy “Dad!” screamed through the hallway and they both turn and there is a little girl of age four (or more), smiling and running towards them and Logan doesn’t get it because he hasn’t seen her before and he had no idea a child so young could even be at this school and someone here is her father but who? Cyke himself? And he’s about tu turn to see if someone else is standing behind them when all of a sudden the girl slams herself against his legs with such force that it wavers his stance for a moment and surely she hurt herself just now because there is adamantium on his skeleton and there isn’t any on hers and she is only a child after all but then he looks at her and not only is she completely okay, she is also staring at him and she is smiling and as much as it doesn’t make sense, it slowly dawns on him and just as he is about to accept it, the girl lets him go and then hugs Scott, more gently but with no less amount of affection and Scott is affectionate right back but he is also trying to send her away. Only for a moment, though, so he can talk with Logan, and the little girl frowns and doesn’t like it but caves in when he promises to get her some ice cream and Logan doesn’t get it yet again and as if it wasn’t already bad enough, the girl finally smiles again and nodds and then she says, “Thanks, papa!” and runs back where she came from, leaving Logan so awestruck it feels as if he’s a mere breeze away from losing his balance.

Part II | Part III

[dmwrites]

Cleo was tired. The first few weeks on a new server always were. They were back at their starter base after a long walk to find some mangrove trees. Their starter base wasn’t much yet, but they could appreciate its simplicity as they collapsed on the only chair they owned. As soon as their butt hit the chair, though, there was a knocking sound on her front door.

“Hey, Cleo? Sorry to bother you so late.” Joe could be heard over his knocks.

Cleo stumped over to the door and opened it. “Joe, I- oh no, what happened?”

Joe looked up at them sadly, holding stuffing in his hands. He had a few arrows sticking out of his blue skin, and a slash in his stomach, where the stuffing was leaking from.

“I was caving, and I may have run into a skeleton spawner… and a stalagmite.” Joe replied sadly. “But with this new puppet body, I don’t know how to heal myself.”

“Oh Joe.” Cleo chuckled in sympathy. “I think you and I need to stop hanging out- we’re too alike.”

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, still clearly upset.

“You need stitches like I do to my own skin. Come in, I’ll show you how to do it.”

Cleo had the puppet of a man sit on the only chair, still cradling his stuffing, and went to get her scissors and industrial-grade string.

“Right, arrows out first.” Cleo told him, setting down her equipment. “You just hold onto that stuffing… wait, would those be your organs, technically?”

Joe looked down at the white fluff. “I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s so gross, I love it.” Cleo said, and reached for an arrow lodged in Joe’s shoulder. “Okay, ready? I’m gonna pull it out in three, two, one.” they tugged the arrow out, and looked for any signs of distress on Joe’s face.

“Oh, that didn’t hurt at all!” Joe said, a little more cheerfully. “Now that I’m thinking about it, none of my wounds hurt, it’s just the emotional part that got me.”

“You make being a puppet sound more and more appealing.” Cleo grumbled, pulling the other arrows out in rapid succession. “Alright, let’s deal with this stomach wound- did you bellyflop onto a spike? How on earth did you do this, Joe?”

“Yeah, that’s it, really.” Joe said sheepishly. “Wait, don’t you need gloves or other sanitation methods to do major surgery?” He continued as Cleo reached for his stuffing.

“You’re a fucking puppet, Joe, if an arrow does nothing to you, germs shouldn't either.” Cleo replied, giving him a withering look.

“You’re right! Okay, let’s stuff away!”

Joe and Cleo stuffed the stuffing (or guts, depended on how you looked at it) back into Joe. Cleo carefully sewed him back up, showing him how it was done as she did. In no time at all, Joe was all put together again.

“Okay, here’s your own scissors and string, so you should be set to go now.” Cleo said, handing her extra supplies over to the puppet.

“Oh, thank you for stuffing me full of the good stuff, Cleo!” Joe beamed.

“Good lord, don’t tell people I’ve been stuffing you full of the good stuff, Joe, or we won’t hear the end of it.” Cleo sighed, but waved Joe off nonetheless.

[atomicjellyb3an]

me staring at the screen in horror bc when i said i wanted Caitlyn to crash out in season 2, i did NOT mean gas innocent people in the undercity

[definitelynotshouting]

Through the Looking Glass, Darkly

Summary:

“... Alright!” Impulse’s voice echoes over itself in a multi-layered choir, bouncing off half-ragged walls and burrowing in amongst the sculk. “Well, she could definitely use a bit of an updo, but… yeah! Here it is!” At the center of Forgery's former lair, ravenous fingers have already punched their way into stone, scrawling up the vaulted walls in strange, fungal swoops—letters without language, glyphs without meaning. Hemmed in by something akin to thick, yellow limestone, the malignant mixture in the cistern below them undulates in time with every echo—and when Gem peers into it, locks her gaze with that yearning abyss, her skin begins to crawl. Impulse had called it the Catalyst. Gem calls it for what it really is: Hungry.

[ START | PREVIOUS | NEXT ]

[ MERCH ] [ MISC ]

Hey gang!! Today's posting day for my solo piece for @hotguycomiczine, so here it is!! I hope you guys enjoy it, ive worked super hard not just on the fic but also on the formatting and picture that ive made to go along with it!!! 💀💀💀💀 yeah i uh. i edited and then drew over that to make it look like sculk. yeah i did that all on my phone last night. you can imagine how bad my neck hurts right now

as always, reblogs are deeply appreciated, and comments on ao3 or in the tags will earn you my undying gratitude and also this free sculk sample over here shhhh dont question it just take it<3 i hope you guys like the new formatting style im trying out, and of course the fic itself!! enjoy!!! :DD

[shepscapades]

hi~ sooo ik u said if u speak abt treebark ur in trouble... but... speak abt them??? 🥺🥺 (also im insane abt this au <3)

I don’t wish to give anything away yet…. But. when dbhc 3rd life starts coming out… it’s over. This is a promise

[paramountie]

rewatching X-men first class and cherik really had the SAUCE. NO ONE is doing friends to lovers to enemies like them

[ri-writes-if]

the Oracle: *is having a great day for once*

[redacted]:

[vampykween]

everything has changed

toxichusband!ghost x reader

-> toxichusband!masterlist | general masterlist

"you can't possibly be mad at me right now, simon. we're not together anymore. you don't get to be pissed about who i'm seeing."

"you live in my house, under my roof. you want to fuck everyone under the sun? go get your own place then,” simon spits at you and storms off towards the living room.

you press the heels of your hands into your eyes and try to suck in slow, deep breaths. how did you get here? trapped under your shitty (sort of) husband’s thumb while he hurls insults at you because his ego can’t handle that you aren’t in love with him anymore. you’re working a dead end office job so you can finalize your divorce and move out on your own; and are about to entertain going on a date with someone for the first time in years.

simon’s grumbling on about something you can’t make out and suddenly the only thing you can focus on is the sound of footsteps creeping up the steps to your front door.

it’s becoming harder and harder to get any air in your lungs and you can feel your palms begin to perspire. you’re aware of the sound of knocking on the heavy wooden door, your daughter pulling furiously at the hem of dress, and simon heckling at whatever game he’s watching on the tv.

the thumping doesn’t cease and you cringe because you know you should answer the door before simon yells at you to, or worse before he opens it himself. you’re not afraid of what simon will do to you, but what he’ll do to the man on the other side of the door.

once upon a time, you believed that things would be better, but that was foolish of you to think. you weren’t a sullen, depressed teenager anymore, no now you’re an overworked, underappreciated, depressed housewife. everything has changed but in the worst way imaginable.

[campbyler]

no worries if not! but perchance would we be able to get a wip wednesday?

#enjoy #🔪

[raineandsky]

Hi, Hello! It's me again!!

Would you PLEASE write a story where a hero tries his best to hide his severe injury from the Villain? The Villain tries to know&patch up the wound, but the hero gets all nervous and tries to run away. It would be DELICIOUS if the hero got injured somehow because of the Villain(directly or indirectly).

I know it's too cliche, but I would love it if it's in your style!

You don't have feel pressure to write this, of course, and as always, I'm always rooting for ya!! Thank you for writing such wonderful stories. I always appreciate it!

hi hello!! there's no such thing as a cliche in this house - just things we read and write a lot because we enjoy them :D thank you again for the request!

“Jesus Christ, [Hero],” the villain spits venomously, “why the hell would you hide that?”

For a moment, the hero’s only answer is ragged breathing. Then, “I knew you’d be weird about it.”

Of course the villain’s going to be weird about it. The hero’s suit is painted crimson, his hand shaking as he tries to cover what he can of the damage. Which isn’t much, seeing as his hand is hand-sized and the staining is moving well beyond that range now.

The villain turns to root through his bag, wrangling a roll of bandage from one of the pockets. “I caught you bad, didn’t I?” he says starkly. “I- I didn’t realise how bad it was, Jesus—”

The hero’s attention is still on the wound in his side. “I thought this would’ve been a good thing for you,” he says tensely. “I thought the whole point of these fights was to kill the other person.”

The villain has been carefully not hurting the hero too badly in the hopes of avoiding this exact conversation. “Just because I’m a villain,” he says slowly, “doesn’t mean I’m inclined to literal murder.”

He takes a step towards the hero, met with an awkward stumble back from the other. “N-No,” the hero says weakly. “No, it’s not that bad.”

“Don’t be stupid.” The villain feels awfully like he’s talking to a child. A stupid, annoying child with zero self-preservation skills. “You’re bleeding out all over this lovely pavement. Come here.”

It’s like the idea of going anywhere near the villain is too much. The hero turns and breaks into a staggering run.

The villain starts after him, but he doesn’t get far before the hero’s wound gets the better of him. He stumbles once, and with one heroic attempt to recover, keels straight over. The villain’s heart leaps traitorously as his nemesis meets the unforgiving concrete.

“Did you just die?” the villain asks severely as he reaches the hero’s side, but his heartbeat finally slows a little when the hero answers him with a pained groan. “You did the exact opposite of what I told you, you idiot.”

“I don’t listen to villains,” the hero retorts weakly.

“Well, some villains have first aid training, so maybe think about that next time you want to ignore me.”

The villain wishes the wound was on the hero’s back, because then he wouldn’t feel the stare burning into the side of his face as he finally unravels a line of bandaging. He tries to concentrate on the work—hold the edges of the bandage, make sure it covers beyond the wound—but the feeling is too uncomfortable. He glances at the hero and immediately regrets it.

“This is awfully nice of you,” the hero says quietly, “for a villain.”

Secure the bandaging with tape. The villain, thankfully, gets to break away to grab his bag again. “I need the practise,” he lies.

“Ha.” The hero coughs, his face taut, his hand hovering nervously as the villain bats him away from the wound. “If you needed the practise, you would’ve hit me harder long before now.”

The villain, for a moment, considers the possibility of just leaving him on the floor. A bit rude to be bringing this up when the villain’s in the midst of doing him a favour, but… a point that’s hard to dodge. So hard to dodge, in fact, he has to avoid it by doing what he does best.

“Says you,” the villain sneers as he unrolls some tape. “Trying to run away from medical attention seems counter-intuitive, doesn’t it?”

It works like a dream. The hero’s gaze finally falls away sheepishly. “Yeah, well, imagine what the agency would say. Being attended to by a villain is probably a broken rule in my contract somewhere.”

“Uh huh. If you say so.”

The hero’s eyes turn back to the villain as he carefully lays the last strip of tape on his side. “I think you don’t hit me hard because you like me.”

The insolence of the comment makes the villain’s gaze snap back to him, just in time to see the shit-eating grin on the hero’s face. “Speak for yourself,” the villain retorts. “You’re the one who ran away from the prospect of me touching you.”

The grin recedes into nothing, and the villain adorns it in the hero’s stead. “I’ll try not hit you so hard next time,” he adds after a moment.

“That’d be nice.” The hero eases himself upright, patting the bandaging testily. “I’ll try not let you hit me so hard next time, too. I never want to do this again.”

God, the villain can’t believe he’s reached the day he agrees with a hero.