#not quite a writeblr
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the-grim-and-sanguine · 1 year ago
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Writeblr? Introduction? IDK
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Hi y'all! I'm a dumbass who forgot that if I deleted my main blog that all side blogs connected to it will also be deleted! So blogs I've had since before 2017 are now gone and I'm the only one to blame! I'm not upset at all /sar.
ANYWAY, here's my FRESH and NEW blog! I know a lot of y'all (if anyone reads this) will know that you'll get a different viewing experience depending upon where you read this but the image included above is what my blog looks like on the web!
ANYWAY! Y'all can call me Concerned (cause I'm concerned about everything all of the time) and I've been using Tumblr for...too long. But I've only been on the Writeblr side since 2019? My partner talked me into it. I was never super active but that's cause I'm an anxious person who doesn't know how to do a proper interaction. But I'm working on that! More about me under the cut!
I'm 25, and (unfortunately) unemployed due to the many (many) things wrong with me. Physically wise, I deal with vertigo and some hyper-mobility issues. Mentally, I got the depression (w/ psychotic features), anxiety, and PTSD.
I'm also Autistic! And currently struggling with autistic burnout (going on two years? I think?).
Outside of writing, I like to game (mostly Overwatch and Genshin Impact, but I have other games I like to mess with) and play with my dog, a giant fluff monster with two brain cells.
Bleh
My WIP's that I need to write for more:
Blink City - superheroes x influencers x monsters?
Foray - sci-fi fantasy? Think vaguely Nimona? Flying cars mixed with magic and royalty? Focuses on growing up and healing from trauma
Sanguine - it's a mix of paranormal fiction and realistic fiction? Focuses a lot on loss of memory (kinda) and identity, as well as healing from trauma
ALSO ALSO If you have made it this far (thank you if you have) - the DO NOT CLICK button on my fancy page does ACTUALLY WORK and the link will be updated MONTHLY (if and when I remember) so if you want a funny/memey YouTube video please check it out!
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If you can figure out what this photo and my blog have in common you get a sticker ⭐.
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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i love when words fit right. seize was always supposed to be that word, and so was jester. tuesday isn't quite right but thursday should be thursday, that's a good word for it. daisy has the perfect shape to it, almost like you're laughing when you say it; and tulip is correct most of the time. while keynote is fun to say, it's super wrong - i think they have to change the label for that one. but fox is spot-on.
most words are just, like, good enough, even if what they are describing is lovely. the night sky is a fine term for it but it isn't perfect the way november is the correct term for that month.
it's not just in english because in spanish the phrase eso si que es is correct, it should be that. sometimes other languages are also better than the english words, like how blue is sloped too far downwards but azul is perfect and hangs in the air like glitter. while butterfly is sweet, i think probably papillion is more correct, although for some butterflies féileacán is much better. year is fine but bliain is better. sometimes multiple languages got it right though, like how jueves and Πέμπτη are also the right names for thursday. maybe we as a species are just really good at naming thursdays.
and if we were really bored and had a moment and a picnic to split we could all sit down for a moment and sort out all the words that exist and find all the perfect words in every language. i would show you that while i like the word tree (it makes you smile to say it), i think arbor is correct. you could teach me from your language what words fit the right way, and that would be very exciting (exciting is not correct, it's just fine).
i think probably this is what was happening at the tower of babel, before the languages all got shifted across the world and smudged by the hand of god. by the way, hand isn't quite right, but i do like that the word god is only 3 letters, and that it is shaped like it is reflecting into itself, and that it kind of makes your mouth move into an echoing chapel when you cluck it. but the word god could also fit really well with a coathanger, and i can't explain that. i think donut has (weirdly) the same shape as a toothbrush, but we really got bagel right and i am really grateful for that.
grateful is close, but not like thunder. hopefully one day i am going to figure out how to shape the way i love my friends into a little ceramic (ceramic is very good, almost perfect) pot and when they hold it they can feel the weight of my care for them. they can put a plant in there. maybe a daisy.
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ragewrites · 11 months ago
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During the fall leading up to my fifteenth birthday, I came very, very close to committing suicide. Today I turned twenty-five. I had that fifteen year old girl I almost wasn’t sit down with me for a metaphorical conversation.
transcript under cut:
[Fifteen Speaks to Twenty-Five] Leah Saint-John
Are you alive
Yes
Does it hurt
Yes
Are you glad
[instead of an answer there is a helpless look]
Is it all still green
Especially in June
Do you still love it
Especially in June
What colour is our blood
Garnet
It’s thickened
Yes
Is it a sickness
Yes
What does the garnet make you think of
Mouths God’s mouth The inside of His eye sockets
Are you happy
Sometimes
Is it enough
Sometimes
Are you lonely
Yes Garnet Like God
Did it get better
Yes No Yes Yes
Are you living
Yes Almost
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callum-librrry · 1 year ago
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Uncanny Valley
Tom and Hazai were exploring a planet recently added to the intergalactic database. Navis was tasked with bringing supply packages to the sentient species there. It was all, of course, an effort to have the planet be knowledgeable of the wider community of space while attempting to keep their technological influence to a minimum. They did something similar to Earth way back when the lightwaves finally made it to the council and Humans were confirmed to be sentient themselves. Unfortunately, any attempts made were quickly swept under the rug known as secret government agencies.
 This planet seemed to be doing much better environmentally than Earth was. Lifeforms here evolved somewhat eerily. Most flora was found underground where liquid water was in constant supply. Tom had also seen a large plant with what looked suspiciously like bones in various odd places. After some confirmation with various off-world researchers, it was noted that the plants here were carnivorous. This made sense in Tom’s mind, considering there were multiple examples of such behaviour in the plant life on his home planet. This information spooked Hazai quite a bit more. She was nervous around anything with roots for the entire rest of the mission.
 They had been wandering with a vague sense of purpose for quite some time and they were yet to come across any sort of sentient life. This fact did not help the ever-increasing complaining of Tom’s muscles under the weight of the supplies. Gravity here was slightly stronger here than it was in standard conditions, which did not help the ache in Tom’s back in the slightest.
 “Hey, Hazai,” he said at last, “I think we should take a break. I can’t carry this pack any longer.”
 Hazai reluctantly agreed. She was itching to get out of the underground tunnels and back into the starlight. Nevertheless, they sat down beside a large woody plant that smelt vaguely of honey and laid down some sleeping bags. Well, Tom did in any case. Hazai liked to rest sitting upright with her feathers ruffled in a way the Human found incredibly endearing.
 Tom was almost asleep when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing off the tunnel walls. He jerked upright. Hazai had heard the sounds too but seemed less troubled by it.
 The footsteps continued. They sounded odd to Tom. They were familiar. Concerningly so. He could hear that whatever it was was bipedal. Its footfalls were also heavy. Not much could echo in such a densely vegetated area. The sound seemed almost… human.
 Almost.
 Some primal instinct was crawling its way up Tom’s spine. Something was seriously wrong here. He just couldn’t pinpoint what.
 He edged up from his sleeping bag, not taking his eyes off the slight bend in the tunnel where the footsteps grew steadily closer.
 Hazai seemed to sense the tension now. Her feathers puffed up and she raised her arms in a way not dissimilar to a threatened owl. She did look bigger, but Tom found it difficult to see the Braal as any more intimidating.
 Then, from around the bend a figure emerged. The dull light of the cave system made it difficult to make them out in any detail but Tom was still certain that there was something wrong with this alien.
 "Oh look, Tom!" Chirped Hazai in relief, "It's a Human! Maybe they can help us find--"
 Before she could finish, Tom cut her off with a warning whistle. His nerves made it a little off-key but the message came through nonetheless. Tom eyed up the approaching figure.
 It did look Human, in every way it should. It had two plantigrade legs and stood upright in the same way a Human would. It had all the key features on its face. Every part of its anatomy was undeniably Human.
 Except, for the fact that it wasn't Human.
 There is an interesting thing amongst the species that isn't seen anywhere else in recorded databases. It's a unique sense known only to Humans. Something that has been dubbed the 'uncanny valley' effect. An ability derived from the insane capability of the Human mind to find a Human face. The mind is in fact, so good at finding faces of the same species that it can impeccably recognise when a face is not Human even though all key indicators show that it should be.
 Notable comments made by various subjects in studies of the phenomenon say that they themselves cannot pinpoint what exactly causes the effect for them. Some guess it can be the way the Not-Human's mouth moves, or that its hands are ever so slightly out of proportion. Another key feature mentioned is the eyes.
 The eyes are what tip Tom off.
 "That's not a Human."
 Hazai looks at him questioningly. She couldn't see any difference between the average Human and the one in front of her.
 "I know you can't see it," Tom said as he grabbed the Braal's feathered shoulder, "but you have to trust me on this."
 Hazai hesitated for a second but complied. She’d seen enough of Humans to know not to question their instincts. She eyed the alien in front of her. She looked desperately for what Tom saw in the being. She didn’t have much time though, because soon after Tom dragged her down the winding stone tunnels. A few plants followed them with their gaping traps. They weren’t running. At least, Tom wasn’t. Hazai managed to keep up with his speed walking by hopping forward occasionally.
 The Not-Human was following them in strides slightly too long. It moved casually. It even spoke.
 “Wait,” it said, “I only want to talk.”
 Hazai had the impression they were speaking through a translator. She could hear the metallic drone behind each word. But she could hear desperation behind it. Something she’d heard from Tom multiple times before.
 “Please,” she tugged at Tom’s sleeve, “Can’t we listen? They might stop once they know we know.”
 Tom grimaced. He was thinking through all the possible ways attempting to negotiate with the alien might go wrong, but with one look into Hazai’s eyes, he complied.
 “Fine,” he groaned, “we’ll talk.”
----
 The alien sat in front of them on a mossy stone. Their limbs were splayed around them in a way that really shouldn’t be comfortable. They looked comfortable now though. The short conversation they had (which was more of a declaration that Tom saw through their disguise) allowed them to relax.
 As it turns out the alien is from a species of ‘shapeshifters’. They explained that it is mainly used as a defence mechanism but as the species became more sentient they tended to use it more for fun.
 “I didn’t mean to freak you out,” They explained, “I just thought you looked cool, and it’s always easier to make friends when you look like them.”
 Tom didn’t make eye contact. He could barely still look at the alien. He understood them, to a certain extent, but the whole ordeal still had him on edge.
 “I’m surprised you knew I wasn’t… uh Human. Generally, my disguises are pretty good”
 Tom spluttered for a second as he tried to think of an answer.
 “It’s– Um, it’s just something we’re good at? We just know when something isn’t actually human.”
 The alien hummed.
 “Don’t think I’ve heard of anything like that before…”
 “You probably haven’t. We’re weird like that.”
 The group fell into a mildly comfortable silence. Tom glanced at Hazai who also seemed to be mulling the new information over. She had a concerned look in her eyes.
 Eventually, Tom remembered the reason they were there in the first place. He handed over the supply pack.
 “It’s mainly just some information about intergalactic culture. Dos and do nots and all that. I think there's some stuff about similar planets and how to survive basic space travel,” Tom picked up a few items as he spoke. “We’re not meant to interfere with ‘the natural technological progression of a planet’, so I can’t really help you out with the getting to space part.”
 “Ah.” The alien was thinking. Tom noticed a certain pattern in the way their limbs moved when they were considering things.
 “I guess I’ll have to get this back to the rest of us,” they said finally.
 The conversation turned to goodbyes here. Tom was eager to leave the weird uncanny valley planet and Hazai just wanted to be able to see the sky without the fear of being eaten by an off-brand pitcher plant. The alien, though, seemed at home here. He explained how he hated to see the two travellers go.
 “But I guess we’ll get more now that we’re registered with, whatever the space organisation is.”
 Tom agreed and they parted ways.
----
 Back on Navis Tom and Yongrae were eating together.
 “I had the weirdest experience on that new planet we went to,” Tom said, “The sentient species there can shapeshift, it’s weird as hell.”
 “Ah,” Yongrae smiled, “like a Not-Deer situation?”
 “Worse. They looked Human.”
 “Ohh…”
 “Y’know I tried to explain it, but it’s just really weird. What even is that?”
 Yongrae thought for a second.
 “Uncanny Valley?” he said, “Like with that one guy in Rogue One?”
 Tom nodded eagerly. It had been on his mind ever since they left the planet. Uncanny Valley. It had a nice sound to it. He’d have to do more research into exactly what it was.
 “Thanks for that, man. It’s been bothering me.”
 “No problem,” Yongrae hit his shoulder, “You know what we should do now? Binge some Star Wars.”
 Tom laughed. While being an Earth classic, the movies really showed their age now. It was more like watching a documentary on what the past Humans thought about space, but it was fun nevertheless.
 “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”
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the-modern-typewriter · 7 months ago
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HEY love your writing! can you write a short story starting with “I hate sandwiches” and ending with “I hate sandwiches” :)
"I hate sandwiches."
I told you that the first time we met; you smiled, leaned in, and told me that was because I wasn't doing it right. But, that was okay, because you'd show me how.
First - good ingredients. Proper bread, that didn't limp around and crumble in your hand when you asked it to carry the weight you needed. Fillings that nourished your soul and strengthened your body. It had to taste good.
Second - balance. It was all about balance, you said. Not letting the flavours overpower each other. Not giving too much, or too little, in any particular bite.
"Too much cheese for me and my lactose intolerance might be just the right amount for you," you said. "That brings us to my third tenet of sandwich making."
"Oh?" I was already entranced, less by sandwiches, and more by you. Your hands worked deftly on the bakery counter and I lost all thoughts of walking away.
"A good sandwich is tailored. It is one of a kind. It is made with care and attention for the person it is intended for."
"And there was me thinking a sandwich was supposed to be low effort," I replied.
"It's easy," you said, "when you know what you want."
You handed me a plate.
Like a fairy's bargain, I was sold with a bite.
You made me a dozen sandwiches over the years; tucking them in my lunchbox, dashed off with a kiss on the train, on a lazy Sunday morning with tea and blankets and rain outside the window.
"The perfect sandwich," you said that first day, "is like the perfect relationship. It a holy grail of a sliding scale, going from terrible to paradise. But you don't write off sandwiches just because you haven't found the right one yet."
I stand at the kitchen counter. The sandwich sits before me, untouched and utterly perfect. It is a masterpiece.
But you are gone.
The tears burn my eyes, then. They throw off the balance. They wet the bread, leave it soggy and changed from what it once was.
From what we were.
So I say it, just to spite you. Like you could hear me. Like bread and butter alone were enough to summon you home.
"I hate sandwiches."
(But you are gone)
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waywardsou2 · 3 months ago
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Drunk!Logan X Drunk!MaleReader Part 4
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I really think I should change the title since they haven't been drunk for the last 5 parts but oh well it's stuck now
Summary: You and Logan have been able to move past all that has happened, and slowly you two are becoming closer. Maybe the quicker than the two of you believe at first
Word Count: 2.9k+
Tags: fluff, friendly fighting, almost a confession
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After your late night meeting you and Logan attempted to be civil. The unease between the two of you had disappeared but you still felt unsure about where you stood with him.
He was compassionate but he was like that with everyone at the mansion. His anger and standoffish attitude was a stark contrast to his compassionate moments. Logan wasn't an asshole, but he wasn't the easiest guy to get along with. These two personality traits of his clashed but someone how balanced him at the same time.
The two of you nodded at each other as you passed in the halls. You sometimes visited him between classes but not often. You were making an effort to try and get yourself out there but it was all new to you. And you still didn't want to get in anybody's way or cause any problems. The habit of acting like you didn't exist for other people convenience was a hard one to break. But Logan's words had really hit where it mattered and you were trying to take it on board.
What he said about everyone having at least one person to stick by was something you thought about often. And you guessed that you chose Logan. It wasn't unexpected perse but more of a risk. Because you didn't know if he would choose you back. In your head it was like an unrequited friendship...but he had approached you first. So maybe it wasn't unrequited? You didn't know. And it hurt your head to think about it too much.
Logan was glad to see you around more often. Not ignoring him anymore. He didn't know why it bothered him so much but it just did. And he was glad that you didn't seem so sullen around the halls. You were by no means happy go lucky or bubbly...not at all. But he did notice a change. You held your head a little higher. You went out of your way to say hello to the kids that passed by you. Even bringing coffee to Storm and Scott during their lessons.
You brought him a "coffee" once as well at the break between his last lessons of the day. The coffee was in fact whiskey disguised in a coffee mug and he was quite surprised when you handed it to him with a finger pressed silently to your lips. You didn't bother to stick around. But he understood the sentiment behind the gesture. The change was evident in and of itself. He wasn't going to push you. He knew how hard you were trying already.
One night, a sleepless night like usual, you were out in the garden again. This time wandering around by the orchard towards the back of the school. The trees weren't in bloom yet but their leaves were green and full of life so you knew it wouldn't take long. You were tired, you felt exhausted but your brain was wired which made your body buzz. How those two things worked you didn't know, they just did. Maybe it was because the fatigue had set in really badly and your body was overcompensating with adrenaline. Probably not a good sign but like every other night you ignored it.
From behind you you heard a twig snapping and you turned to see Logan walking towards you in the moonlight. You hoped he would come see you again at night but he hadn't since that evening.
Logan looked at you as he walked with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He watched as you turned to look at him. You arms resting on the fence dividing the properties.
"Hey" you called softly
"Can't sleep?" He asks in response
"Yup, thinking about too much I guess. Too...pent up" you say sighing
"About what?"
You tapped your nose "That's for me to know" you say cheekily but it's half hearted, 'and you to find out' you finish the phrase in your head. You didn't like it when he pried. But a small part of you wished he did. So you would have an excuse to tell somebody about what was on your mind. But considering the first time he'd done that it ended in disaster, he didn't ask.
He let out a small laugh, the type that only goes out your nose in one puff of breath.
Logan joins you on the fence. The two of you stand in silence together as the wind makes the trees rustle and your hair being pushed to the one side, your fringe being pushed off your head.
Logan's cowlicks remained umoved as the wind continued to blow.
You watched him as his eyes flowed over the branches of trees in front of you. He was rushing the view before him.
His brown eyes were beautiful in the moonlight, lighter than normal in contrast to the blue light that the moon gave off. In the sunlight they were like whiskey but in the moonlight they were like tigers eye jemstones. Deep and rich with hints of gold, only revealing itself in certain lights.
They were breath taking. All of his feature were. His curly brown hair, his mutton chops that dulled the sharpness of his jaw but framed his face. Their was a tiredness to his face that outweighed the boyish charm his face still held. You didn't know much about Logan's past. But you could tell that he had been through enough to age him years more than he was.
Logan turned his head and caught you staring.
"The view is in front of us, bub"
You blink and look away, staring far into the distance instead. You sigh and cursed yourself self for getting distracted. What was wrong with you?
Suddenly Logan nudge you in the side with his elbow "C'mon, let's spar for a bit"
"Now? Won't that wake everyone?"
"Not in the danger room it won't"
He smirks at you and pushes away from the fence walking back towards the mansion. After a moment's hesitation you follow him
The two of you walk through the manor, passing no one on your way, taking the elevator down to the war room and down the hall to the Danger room. The flashy X door turns and opens and the two of you step inside. Logan fiddles with the computer for a moment until the room transforms into a forest landscape. The trees are corporal to the touch. It was incredible.
You would have to ask Hank someday how he did it.
Logan walks away from the computer as it disguises itself in the landscape it created. He turns to face you and pulls off his jacket discarding it by a tree which he marks with a single claw scratch.
You roll your neck trying to get the kinks out of it, knowing your head will have to be on a swivel with Logan.
He purposefully picked a landscape that he would be more accustomed to. You’d lived in the city all your life, even when you were shunned you stayed in the slums on the streets. Skulking in back alleys. You knew the concrete jungle. Not the real one
Logan cracks his knuckles flexing his fingers as he protracts his claws.
You watch as the skin in between his knuckles splits open, you think about how painful that must be for him. You cringe internally.
"You ready bub?"
"Yeah, bub. Just don't go easy on me. I'm not as fragile as you might think"
He smirks and gets down low. You roll up the sleeves of your flannel and bring your arms up into a defensive position.
He makes the first move. Running at you full speed, you counter by sliding between his legs, he attempts to stab you as you go down but misses. You jump up and give him a light kick in the back.
He turns to you and growls though the smirk hasn't left his lips.
He lunges for you again this time making a fake right and then spinning left to slash at you. You doge out of the way of his attack but he nick's your arm. The not too deep gashes appear and disappear on your arm.
"Is that all you got?" You goad him, an almost flirtatious tone to your voice.
Both of you were becoming hot and bothered as you fought. The sweat dripped off his face as it soaked through his tank top, sticking it to his chest. You had pulled off your flannel at some point and discarded it by the same tree Logan had his leather.
You continue to leap for him, repaying his onslaught with your arms up for defence and your legs out to attack.
Logan is clearly in his element as he evades your futile attempts at attacks. You hadn't been able to land a worthwhile blow yet but he hadn't knocked you down either.
Logan was dodging behind trees, swinging from low branches and kicking off the trunks to give him a height-advanced attack. He's fast and it takes all your concentration to turn and counter his attacks.
At one point he disappears from sight and you look around frantically. Panting hard from the half hour you are sure has passed by.
You turn looking this way and that but in the split second you face your back to him Logan leaps at you and knocks you to the ground. The force of his body weight slamming into yours sent you to the leaf strewn ground with a hard thud.
He stood over you as you tried to jump up. Holding a set of claws to your face
You keep your hands up, breathing hard as he breathed equally as hard over you. The two of you stay there for a while. Logan isn't continuing the fight but you aren't ready to give up.
Logan was right a fight was a good idea but now you were pent up in other ways. Every time Logan had pushed you around or you had countered his attacks the touches sent shivers down your spine amongst the warmth that flooded your body from the exercise.
You were enjoying Logan's company but maybe more than just as a good sparring partner. You had to admit that Logan was pretty easy on the eyes. And not too bad looking disheveled from the exercise either.
More than once you had caught yourself looking at his toned arms and tight chest. And not just because he happened to be attacking you with full force.
But Logan had been noticing the same things about you. Each time you managed to land a punch. Even if it was weak he felt pride and even some joy in the fact that he could finally spar with someone he didn't have to hold back with.
Your hair was darker than usual and flat to your head. Your body was almost as tonned as his and he started to understand why he got so many looks whenever he wore something semi tight.
You were quite handsomely built. Not that he let that distract him.
Ok maybe it did a little bit. He wondered what you would look like with your shirt off. He hoped that maybe if he ran you around enough you would over heat and take it off.
His heart had skipped a beat when you took your flannel off to inadvertently show your arms off.
As he stood over you he panted watching the way your eyes flicked over his body. He was waiting for you to concede. Not making you give up but giving you the option.
You took the third option. You grabbed the arm pointed at you and pulled with all your might. You brought your foot up and pushed into his stomach. Using the momentum to lift him up and over your head and onto his back. You scrambled onto him to hold him down.
You might just win this fight.
You allow all your body weight to push him into the fake earthen ground. Holding his hands by his head so he couldn't scratch you and keeping your legs squeezed against his waist so he couldn't move his hips too much. You didn't want him pulling a move on you.
It was your turn to look down at him now.
And damn did he look good in this position
Logan was inclined to agree. He swallowed hard as he looked up into your face. Now that he was closer he could see the light stubble that was growing across your jaw. The specks of hair on your cheeks and above your upper lip.
It gave you that edge to your look and he found it quite attractive.
You watched as his eyes twitched as he looked at your face. Moving his eyes only as far as they needed to go to scan your face.
"Do I win?" You ask cockily a smirk being pulled into your face
The two of you pant roughly and it takes him a minute to respond.
"Dunno, are you finished bub? Or do you wanna go a round two?"
This conversation was beginning to sound less like sparring and more like something else.
The adrenaline from this fight was melting away any lack of confidence you had. Replacing it with stoic triumph and gall.
"I bet you'd like that wouldn't you. Be able to top me for real if I was tired out from another round"
The words left your mouth but as you said them you heard them echo in your head and you felt a warmth creep up your neck that had nothing to do with the sparing.
This was getting out of hand and you were starting to question your choices. You let go of Logan and stood up. Stepping away from him.
He has the same slight scowl in his face as he always does but you thought you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes.
Logan was indeed disappointed. Not only in the space you had created between the two of you but how your bravado from before suddenly withered away like a flower doused with poison.
He watched as you turned away and walked to pick up your flannel and he followed. He wasn't going to let you walk off on him this time. Especially when something was going on now.
He had seen that glint in your eyes even if it was brief. Something was happening here and he was going to confront you about it.
He realised now why you allured him so much, why he was desperate to keep track of you after that night at the bar. Hell why he had followed you to that barnin the first place.
Yes alright he admits it he followed you.
As you bend over to scoop up your jacket and hand Logan's back to him you turn to see him inches from your face.
In surprise you take a step back and bump into the tree.
He leant forward and put a hand on the trunk by your head and the other by your hip
"Why do you keep running from me?" Logan asks. His voice low.
His face is so close to yours you could have counted the individual hairs of his mutton chops.
You swallowed and he watched as your Adams apple bobbed with the movement.
"You can let people in you know. It sure as hell ain't easy, I know."
You had no idea why Logan was so close. Why was he confronting you like this again? Why were his eyes were the prettiest thing you had ever seen?
You startled yourself with that thought and had to look away, turning your head to the side. But then you were startled once more as his calloused hand pulled at your chin softly turning your head back to face him.
Your eyes widen as you look at him. A somber tenderness in your voice. Like you were a lost child or an injured creature.
And maybe you were. A mutant with a dark past could be likened to that of a downed bear.
"I told you. I can't get close to people"
He cocked his head and let go of your chin
"You seem pretty close to me. And you didn't seem to unhappy about me joining you outside either. That's more than anyone else here has done"
You press your back harder against the tree as he moves into your space even more. All the while without touching you.
"...sometimes there are exceptions" you whisper as you continue to look at his eyes. He was so close you could see your own reflection in them. It was confronting.
He was confronting. He was standing in your space and you were letting him. This time he didn't even have to hold you to keep in place. Given the choice you wouldn't have moved anyway.
Logan's eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again. He could smell the deep rich tones in your scent this close. The salt and the earth mixed with your musk from all the training. He watched as your eyes glistened in the artificial light from the danger room.
He studied every inch of your face like it was a master piece crafted by Michelangelo himself. And to Logan you were. As detailed as the marble he carved but as hardy as it too. Almost impenetrable on contact.
"Am I your exception?" Logan asks bringing his face closer to yours and lowering his voice even more. The bass of his tone mixed with the quietness of voice.
"Because I think your mine"
Logan knew now you were something special to him. Like human magnetism that pulled him towards you. Even if he wanted to pull away he couldn't. He should have noticed when you first joined the team but he only fully understood now.
And you understood why you sought his attention and his approval at first. Logan inspired you as a hero and as a person. But it was so much more than that, he was alluring and too hard to stay away from.
That's why you had to leave that night, to drink away any and all feelings. Because in the end they all came back to Logan.
"Just let me in, please" he whispered. His breath hitting your lips as he spoke
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Oh yes I am being that bitch. You guys are going to have to wait for part 6 for me to get to juicy stuff. I am going to drag this out as long as possible hahah!
Part 6 is here! (finally)
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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 7 months ago
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I’ve felt kind of off about my book recently, I’ve had a lot of rejection and I’ve started to think maybe I should just quit.
But then I think: what if one day it’s real? What if one day there is an actual book in the world, with a real cover and real pages and my name written on the real spine? And what if people read it? Maybe one day there’ll be people who want to keep it perfect, who don’t even want to crack the spines, who will lament over the slightest crease to the pretty pretty cover, who’ll keep their copy on a clean, beautiful shelf so pristine and perfect, who’ll share with the pages their favourite book mark with it’s pattern or it’s quote or it’s ribbon or the thousand other things that could make it special; maybe one day there’ll be people who will fold the pages, who’ll crack the spine, who’ll panic because they accidentally dropped it in the bath, who’ll underline their favourite quotes with their favourite pencil that they always have to tell themselves to stop chewing the end of; maybe one day there’ll be people who’ll put pen against the pages, who’ll draw stars and hearts in the margins, who’ll share their every thought on every page that was worth something enough to them to write on; maybe one day there’ll be people who’ll choose the perfect coloured tabs to match the cover, who’ll create a key, who’ll deem me worthy of their favourite highlighters, who’ll be able to look at the pages of their closed copy, run their fingers over those perfect coloured tabs, and see their thoughts as they read laid out before them; maybe one day there’ll be people who’ll borrow it from libraries, who’ll wipe dust from the cover, even if it’s slightly faded with time beneath the plastic sheath who’ll write their names on a card glued neatly into the front so they are part of it forever.
What if I am lucky enough to one day see a book that is not just my soul, but the souls of readers as well?
Keep writing my loves, keep writing 🖤
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literaryvein-reblogs · 10 days ago
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bunny x cat dynamic?
Like, adhd bunny and grumpy cat dynamic? I'm going to try writing a bit where the dynamic of the main characters are fleshed out. Any input on what people often enjoy about these for me to take into account?
To me it's so cute because she considers herself more as an annoying dog but for him, he considers her to be a cute, hyperactive bunny (that's kind of useless to (literal) death but let's put that aside, or not)
The ideal response to this would come from your readers. If you've already established your reader base, try asking them their preferences and expectations. Of course—still, write the story you want (and need) as a writer. And there it is, in your second paragraph. The idea is that if you write what you want, the people who also prefer this dynamic will find your work and stay for the rest of the story, and will more likely enjoy your other work as well (this is essentially what most successful authors advise new writers—write what you want, what you enjoy etc etc). But striking a balance between your readers' and your own preferences would be great too.
If you don't have a reader base yet, I'd suggest going through your favourite literature/films and finding ones that depict this particular character dynamic. Then you yourself, as a reader/viewer now, could answer what you find enjoyable about these pieces of media, and incorporate that in your writing.
Also, here are some tropes that I think have similarities with the dynamic you described. Same suggestion with finding books or films/TV shows you like that feature these tropes. But also research their readers'/audience's feedback to find out what they enjoyed about these character tropes, and this is what you can take into consideration for your story.
Grump and sunshine. One character is so grumpy all the time; the other character is so bubbly all the time. And somehow, through that power-of-love thing, they end up balancing each other out. The grump sometimes has sworn off love.
Savvy Guy, Energetic Girl. This is a potential pairing (platonic or otherwise) between a pragmatic guy and a girl who is very full of energy. One partner in the pair will be lively and optimistic while the other is savvy and more slothful, quiet, or otherwise less expressive. EXAMPLES:
In Corpse Bride, Emily and Victor. The former is a dead bride who is rather lively and spiritual for a corpse, while the latter is a live man who is shy and awkward almost to a fault.
This defines Anna and Kristoff's relationship in Frozen nicely. She is a spunky princess willing to do whatever it takes to bring her sister home, he is a grumpy, rough-around-the-edges ice harvester helping her along the way.
In Pixar's Up, the quiet and timid Carl befriended and eventually married the energetic Ellie.
Uptight Loves Wild. He's stuffy. She's untamed. It's true love. Mr. Stuffy is in a rut: Life is boring because he plays by the rules. Along comes this wild and crazy woman to show him how to live life to its fullest, and she just might learn a few things along the way, too. EXAMPLES:
Enchanted: Stuffy, cynical divorce lawyer Robert meets fairytale princess Giselle.
The Sound of Music: Maria isn't "wild", but she is a Blithe Spirit in the face of the extremely uptight, Captain von Trapp.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: Quite thoroughly deconstructs this. A relationship like this doesn't always work and after the falling-in-love part, it causes more pain than joy; so much so that both parties opt to have their memories removed of each other. The Manic Pixie Dream Girl is also far more complicated: "I'm not a concept, I'm just a fucked-up girl looking for a peace of mind".
Opposites Attract. EXAMPLES:
The Princess and the Frog has Tiana and Naveen. She's a Workaholic, no-nonsense waitress and he's a fun-loving, lazy prince.
Tangled gives us the jaded, worldly-wise thief Flynn Rider and the spirited, innocent princess Rapunzel.
Treasure Planet has Captain Amelia and Dr. Doppler. She's a tough-as-nails Action Girl, he's a bookish scientist, not to mention they're basically an anthropomorphic cat and dog, respectively. The two grow closer throughout the movie, and by the end they even have several kids.
Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References
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Prompt 170
“Oh.” Villain wipes the grit off their face. “You’re not good.”
“The good ones are dead. You killed them.”
“Here for righteous anger then, are you?”
“Except I’m not righteous, as you’ve said, I’m not good. I’m not just. I am here for vengeance, and I want your head.”
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literaryvein · 4 months ago
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my writing advice 10 years ago vs. now
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L. V., an ex-poet's introspection (pt. 3: you are now a writer/poet)
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sremblingdesperatly · 1 month ago
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Quite Angels? Part 1
1334 words
Note: There will be no lemons. I know this sounds like the opening to a smut novel but it is indeed not.
CW: Kidnapping, encagement, confinement, violence (kinda), bodily damage to mc, power imbalance, unsettling atmosphere, general ominousness, infantilization/objectification, angels and eldritch beings, religious themes (I am none religious but it I have religious trauma so a lot of my work features religon)
Suddenly I began to wake up, my face was hard on the damp ground as I lay there in a heap, with my many wings haphazardly arrayed over myself like a blanket. Which was nice as any exposed bits of my form were frigid, similar to tile on a winter morning. I shivered and tried to push myself back up off the ground, causing me to wake up faster. My head was pounding… Sitting up and resting my wings neatly behind me, I realized everything felt wrong. The strange feeling originated not from my surroundings which were mostly dark, dreary, metallic, and gritty, but the sensation of my very being was completely different. It almost reminded me of a dream, where I didn't quite ever exist. It wasn’t a bad feeling per se, it was almost warm and comforting, like the humid air, moggy and thick after a downpour. 
But even though I felt that warm sensation, the room did not, it had decided, stubbornly to remain frigidly cold. I figured I should see where I was and I began to observe my surroundings. No longer distracted by how my thoughts felt. I saw that I was indeed inside a dirty, impure gold, birdcage that was almost tarnished looking. The walls of the room were a dismal grey brick and seemed if I touched them I would most likely freeze whole. 
My head turned left toward a rickety, wooden door as it was creakily being opened and in the process got caught on the stone door frame. I think they kicked the door open to get it unstuck, and in came a dark, cool-toned humanoid with tentacles where its wings should be. It strutted across the room in front of me as I sleepily squinted at it through the rusty bars of my cage.
“I assume you speak a common tongue?” The figure’s voice echoed, albeit not because they were loud or the room was very big, in fact, it was the opposite. 
“Uh.” I startled not expecting them to speak, much less say something I understood. ”Yeah, yeah.” 
“Oh good!~” They exclaimed eerily. “You can never truly know until you ask~….” They continued as they slowly approached my cage.
I backed away from the bars, and closer to the middle of the enclosure, to get away from this ominous entity.
“You know it's not often I find an angel down on the 3rd plane…” The character hung its arm through one of the rungs of my cage and used its other hand to emphasize its words. “May I ask what someone like… your wonderful self was possibly ever doing down there?”
I blinked at them still processing what they were saying “Oh yea! I was down there, you know, just looking around and uh collecting things…” They just stood there unmoving, waiting for me to continue. “Mostly just like plants, and flowers, and rocks and stuff tho. Heh heh, Nothing someone like you would be interested in!” I let a little too much of my way anxiousness at this situation show at the end of that sentence. 
“Why would you assume I would not be intrigued?” They began to back away from the cage and seemed content to observe me from a distance leaning most of their weight into one side of their hip with their arms crossed and an amused smirk on their face.
“Well, I mean, you uh. Just look like you have more important, evil, ominous, eldritch  things that you care about.” I blurted out and immediately regretted it.
“What’s that supposed to mean??!? I don’t think insulting your kidnapper is exactly your best tactic…” They seemed almost disappointed in me and rested their forehead on their fingers.
“I uh didn’t mean to upset you, sir! Ma’am! Perso-”
“ just… call me Oganesson. And don’t worry it’s fine, no harm done~.” They shrugged reassuringly, one of their tentacles mirroring each of their arms even as they continued to gesture. And I had to ask.
“Are those fake?” I hate myself.
They blinked in shock.
I facepalmed as I dug my hole even deeper. “Y-Your tentacles I mean.”
“No…?!??” They shifted onto their other foot and then after a brief reflection, began to pace to the left and right in front of my cage. 
Then they finally said, “You must not get out very much do you, little one?”
Just because of everything I’ve messed up I’m gonna let that slide. “Well, I do go out! Just not often and I’m tracked so I don't get lost, at least on the 3rd plane. In heaven, I’m a little less, restricted.”
They perked up whenever I said that. “Oh, so my suspicions were right? I didn't know angels could exist in the higher planes.”
“I mean here I am.” I need to get out of here “Why am I here?”
“Oh, I just like collecting curious, small objects to adorn my living quarters.” They stopped pacing and turned to face me. “You know those wings are very pretty… I would very much appreciate it if you would show them to me~.” They kept a respectable distance from the bars of my cage but continued to observe me.
I needed an excuse to get out of here, it’s so cold I’m shaking. “I don’t think I want to thank you very much, It’s freezing in here and they're the only thing keeping me slightly warm. Besides I don’t know if there’s enough room in this cage for me to do so comfortably”
“You say it’s cold?” They tilted their head in genuine confusion.
“YES, verymuchso!” Pull yourself together!!
“I don’t know if there’s much I can do about that… But maybe I’ll try to, if you make it worthwhile…” They said while tracing the outline of my wings from their perspective with their fingertip. “You know it’s not often one such as me sees anything like this~.” 
I tried to change the subject because I didn’t want to bang up my wings trying to open them against the metal of the cage “You know the other angels will come looking for me. And like you said I can exist here, so can they.”
They shifted their weight again as I continued “I’m a high-ranking angel! The highest in my field.” I started to approach the edge of my enclosure. “I'm sure they would loooove to mess up your little stone shack and destroy all your precious trinkets.” I need to slow down, I’m getting a little too cocky.
But thankfully they put a hand up to politely interrupt me “No need to make this personal…” They said almost chuckling at my audacity. “And respectfully I don’t think you're in much of a place to be threatening me.”
I grabbed onto the bars of my cage and stuck my head and some of my twisted torso through them “Oh really!~ You must not know the very might of heaven!” Their many eyes flash dangerously as a warning but I ignored it.
“If I had a few of my things, I bet i cou-” They rushed me and grabbed a little below my wrist almost pulling me halfway through the bars with their hand. Pain shot up my arm and a sound similar to pottery cracking continued as they spoke. 
“I Know The ‘Might of Heaven’ little bird! I just-” They backed away from me and let go of my hand, which showed the cracks in my arm. It almost looked as if I was hollow; like I was a porcelain vase with missing pieces. The area that surrounded it looked darkened as if it was burnt, they looked at the area, their eyes widening a little before they seemed to rationalize it.
“Well, being near an ancient, powerful, and (by heaven’s standards) evil entity such as myself could cause something like that to happen to weaker angels…” I rubbed my arm sorely as I watched fragments and dust fall from it onto the ground.
next
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starcrossedandstupid · 4 days ago
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When a church is abandoned, when it is overgrown with gnarled branches and nightshade, when the marbled statues and paining sceneries chip and fade, do the walls remember? Do they creak and groan, whispering tales of what once filled them, even when no ears remain to listen?
Do those who lived in the hardwood floors, if they come to visit, do they recall the joy they felt, oh so many years ago, or do they lament what time had done to it, think of the bitter winds that swept through it to lead it to its disarray? Do they mourn its long dead future?
Do the corridors realize they are haunted, spirits silent yet wailing, that those shadows who remain and scream without noise, are still those who loved it enough to stay, in some way? Do they realize that that the peeling drywall is the closest thing they have bones now, and that its hymns are carved through their marrow?
Does a church bell ring in its withered halls, as a call to those who used to sing its tune?
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danishphoner · 7 days ago
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expresso 05; or, a little something i wrote a few months ago when this big something happened
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ragewrites · 5 months ago
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The groupchat has been reading the NYT again, so here’s annie wants to be famous, an erasure from a profile this ‘distinguished’ publication has done on an alleged micro-influencer.
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definitelynotshouting · 1 year ago
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on the subject of stuffed dragons
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abiteofhoney · 21 days ago
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she’s so funny
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