#save a writer

[iriel3000]

At a pub crawl. Don't have day 28 done

Trying to write in the restroom, but someone always goes with me!!

#writer problems

[c0smic-coral]

reblogging to help my fellow writers

I am a(n):

⚪ Male

⚪ Female

🔘 Writer

Looking for

⚪ Boyfriend

⚪ Girlfriend

🔘 An incredibly specific word that I can't remember

[pastawayallday]

I couldn’t resist, I had to draw something from Firefight by @remedyturtles . I’m obsessed, I legit cry at every chapter.

[sunderwight]

A fun prospect for Superhero-themed SV AU's that I don't often see is genre dissonance. Like, Luo Binghe as this edgy 90's style antihero who just straight up kills his enemies and sleeps around and is driven by selfish motives (revenge, ambition, etc) rather than altruistic morality, vs Shen Qingqiu as this kid-friendly supervillain who is "evil" mostly in terms of aesthetics and his ability to make inconvenient problems that are reasonably safe for child heroes to solve. Something like Punisher vs Team Rocket in terms of vibes.

Maybe the reason they meet is because some big publishing house akin to Marvel or DC just bought up the rights to whole bunch of older, discontinued comics titles, and decided to do a Justice League/Avengers style mash-up with a bunch of nostalgia properties and their most recognizable heroes and villains. Which means lots of crossovers condensing several titles into a handful of series.

Luo Binghe's origin always features him as a teenager, so he reboots as the youngest Avenger-equivalent team member in the new continuity. Even in this reboot, however, the writers still mostly go the gritty and dark route with his plots and stick to the same key developments -- his abandonment as an infant, his adoptive mother's tragic death, his tough life on the streets, abusive mentors and backstabbing "allies", and so on.

But Luo Binghe's life suddenly starts experiencing periods of dramatic change in his life when he's brought in for appearances in the lighter, friendlier world of the Junior Heroes continuity. After all, he's a natural choice for tying the two continuities together thanks to his youthfulness. Luo Binghe isn't consciously aware of the fact that he's moving between different titles and different writers. All he knows is that sometimes, when he hangs out with the bright and talented Ning Yingying, he's drawn into "conflicts" with Shen Qingqiu -- the kind of "villain" who will call for tea breaks, never actually hits anyone when he shoots his ray gun, leaves clues for all of his crimes, and can't seem to stop from imparting genuinely helpful advice in between his witty quips and taunts.

When Luo Binghe fights Shen Qingqiu, somehow he never actually gets hurt. Neither do any of his friends. The world in general seems brighter and lighter, as if there is some secret barrier protecting everyone from all the evils Binghe knows only too well exist in the rest of his life. Luo Binghe is increasingly convinced that Shen Qingqiu is the source of this mystical safety net. After all, for an allegedly powerful genius who is able to fool half the world about his wicked aims, he's never won a single fight against a kindhearted but somewhat ditzy teenager and her ragtag bunch of friends!

So what's he spending his actual energy on?

Luo Binghe is pretty sure it's keeping the real evils at bay. Making himself the biggest bad in town, and in doing that, making it so that the "biggest bad" is nothing worse than a slightly judgmental teacher in a pretty costume.

It's not long before Luo Binghe doesn't want to go back to the Justice League equivalent, to his world of misery and strife, even after his visits with Ning Yingying are supposed to be over. Especially as the global stakes of various heroic activities start getting higher, and it becomes clear that the boundary between Shen Qingqiu's safe world and the grimdark reality of Binghe's usual life are getting thinner...

[silly-goober-445]

As promised, here is my Shen Yuan AU, the "tiger of Bai Zhan" shen yuan (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

I wanted to make something for the mascs and tops in the audience because in my humble opinion we need more big rugged shen yuan. (Also cuz I ship him so hard with sqq and them being total opposites has my brain going brrrrrr)

So what is this about? Basically in this au shen yuan is this absolute fiend who joins Bai Zhan at like 10, ( also meeting sqq by accident while on his way to the mountain). He's unapologetically fixated on everything monster and demon related, he has no qualms about beating the fuck out of anybody who makes fun of him, he's strong he's careless and an absolute headache to every single one of his shixiongs to a point where they have to send him away on missions and isolation training just to get him off their backs. He goes to brothels once he's old enough and does not care for any sort of chastity, drinking and having fun as much as he pleases and his peak is absolutely unable to stop him because he's one of their best assets.

I'm working through his backstory and why he ended up like this (he's still a transmigrator) but this post is already lengthy enough (⁠⌐⁠■⁠-⁠■⁠)

I'll definitely draw more stuff for this tho (⁠ ⁠՞⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠՞⁠）

Also I need a weapon idea for him cuz sword just sounds boring and not like him at all, maybe just straight up fists will do? ◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗

More art for this AU!!

[iriel3000]

No work is ever wasted. And if it’s not working, let go and move on — if it’s useful, it’ll show up again.

Pixars 22 Rules of Story Telling

[ahmadalturk]

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[sillykawa]

Been thinking about Capitano all week.... so

Imagine a young Capitano before the fall of Khaenri’ah. With a wife and child—a little girl. The two most precious ppl in his life and he couldn't save them. Their death breaks him, the source of his hatred, because what did they ever do to deserve such a cruel fate. He longs to join them but death is something he cannot have so he carries their souls in his heart.

He wants to give all the fallen warriors a final resting place, but he also longs to see his family. Sometimes, in the sea of voices in his head, he hears his wife—and that’s what gets him through 500 sleepless years, to exact his revenge.

The cutscene where he’s climbing the stairs with all the warriors —at the top, next to the throne of flames, he finally sees his love, his family, waiting for him.

[adobe-outdesign]

Muppet fact of the day: One of the Muppet show's pilot episodes was called "The Muppet Show: Sex and Violence", but the Muppets are owned by Disney now and Disney really doesn't like the word "sex" so they insist on just calling it "the Muppet Show Pilot"

anyway reblog this forbidden image of Jim Henson in front of the Sex and Violence title card to make Disney mad

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

BELLE A DONNA 🥹

the way this hurts me so much, I shall bill u for my therapy.

hankel is literally the worst fucking episode I can’t stand it but just thinking about how much I would love on my sweet baby pretty boy Spencer and want to take his pain away

it’s the way he needs and craves comfort but then wants to comfort r bc she’s so sad too. GAH 😫

also let’s talk poetic, lyrical word choice? “grasping for silver linings like they’re needles in haystacks”, “the messy, desperate press of his plump lips”, “a low string of air”

girly pop you did the damn thing. I am there. I am taking care of Spencer and I’m crying in the club.

a/n: tobias hankel when i catch you… (divider from @reveriesources !!)

warnings: extreme angst, it’s hurt/comfort but it’s rly sad, basic spencer trauma, blood, showering together but it isn’t sexual, i watched the tobias hankel eps and i just wanna comfort him so here this is

going home with spencer reid after the team figures out where tobias hankel had taken him. once he’s been medically examined, he’s wrapped up in a jacket, tucked under your arm in the backseat of the suburban. he’s trembling under your touch, and you muster every last bit of your courage not to break down. you’re determined to be strong for him, he needs it.

it’s normally him cradling you like this, especially after tough cases, in your bed, or the couch, or even in the conference room if you can sneak a moment alone. it’s not to say that you’re weak, you’re just a bit more outwardly emotional than spencer. maybe a lot more outwardly emotional. it’s a hard job. it’s an impossible one right now, as you sit there, cradling your man as he shivers in your arms.

you’re practically on top of him, your arms coiled around his neck while your legs sling over his lap. his arms squeeze your waist, weak, deft fingers leave wobbly imprints on your plush skin, like he was trying to absorb you through his fingertips. your fingernails gently scrape his scalp, your body on overdrive as you so desperately try to comfort him, to calm him. anything to stop this godawful shaking you don’t think your heart can handle it much longer.

“i’m sorry…” your head snaps up at the sound of his voice, your heart dropping to your stomach.

“spencer?” you struggle to find your breath as his name passes your lips, your voice is hoarse from crying.

“i’m sorry…” he whines in a far off tone, eyes half shut, “imsorryimsorryimsorry-”

“spencer!” you cut him off, cradling his jaw in your hands as you get him to look at you, lightly tapping his face to force his eyes open, “spencer, it’s me. you’re safe.”

you see it in his eyes when it clicks, when he sees you. the relief is palpable, it’s contagious. you stay in each other’s arms the entire ride home. the second you get in the elevator of his apartment building, he breaks. he collapses into you, a sob escaping his lips.

“oh, spencer,” you gasp out, lightly kissing his lips, testing the waters.

“i thought of you the whole time,” he sobs, kissing you again, deeper this time. you move in time with each other until the ding of the elevator breaks you apart.

your heart just aches at the sight of him. his brows are furrowed, his eyes screwed shut as tears flow like a waterfall down his sweet, sweet face. you hastily wipe at his wet cheeks, it’s the closest thing you have to being able to take his pain away.

“i thought of you, an-and my mom,” he chokes out even more sobs at the acknowledgment of diana, and you kiss his salty cheek as you prepare him to exit the elevator.

he takes a deep breath to try and quiet his sobs as you walk through the hall to his apartment. he all but falls through the door, just barely holding himself up on the side table next to the entrance. you hastily wrap your arms around his middle from behind, cuddling into him when he relaxes in your hold.

“let’s get you in the shower, then you can sleep. okay?” you whisper, your cheek pressed to his back.

“okay,” he mumbles, and his garbled tone breaks you even more, which you didn’t even realize was possible.

once you’re both under the hot stream, you dedicate yourself to soothing him. you rub some of your body butter up and down his arms, along his back, massaging the skin until his muscles begin to relax. little whimpers slip past his lips as he loosens up under your touch, and it makes you feel on top of the world.

you revel in the pure intimacy of the moment- grasping for silver linings like they’re needles in haystacks- as you stand here, washing the lotion off his reddened and bruised skin. you catch a glimpse of the blood stained water swirling the drain, and you almost lose your composure. you falter in his arms, just a tad, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as your eyes glass over.

“hey,” spencer whispers, oh so soothingly. he takes the body butter from the shower rack and dips his fingers in. the cold lotion on his deft fingers massages into your skin, and you finally let your eyes fall shut, “you were so brave for me today, hm? hotch told me all about it.”

the fact that he’s trying to comfort you is the trigger that unleashes the waterfall of tears you’ve held in since late that afternoon. memories of being in that godforsaken house flashes through your mind- seeing spencer so scared and frail on that computer screen, the adrenaline of sheer panic bursting from you like a fireball, hotch having to carry you from the room, your white knuckle grip on the kitchen table, the violent chattering of your teeth as you sobbed and heaved.

“i’m sorry, i need to stop,” you bury your face in your hands, desperately wiping at your tears as if the past 24 hours could wipe away with them.

“what? no you don’t,” he states matter of factly, “why did you say that, honey?” his brows are furrowed, and he looks so earnest, so unbelievably spencer. a small ray of light shines through the cracks in your heart, you just adore him.

you smile weakly, “becaaaauuuuseeee, my love,” you nudge him as you whine, almost childlike, “i want to be here for you. i need to be here with you, to make you feel better. i can’t do that if i’m blubbering like a whale!” you let out a wet gasp and turn your face into spencer’s large hand that’s cradling it.

“i don’t care what you’re saying,” he whispers out breathlessly, planting a sloppy kiss to your lips, “i don’t care what you’re doing,” another kiss, his hands roaming hastily around your body, like he needs help believing you’re real, “just as long as you’re here,” kiss, “as long as i have you, i’ll be okay. we both went through it, honey. cry it out, we’ll get through this together,” his voice breaks at that last word, and you grab him by the cheeks for a desperate, messy kiss.

you spend a few minutes like that, his lips devouring yours, tears streaming down both your cheeks. the messy, desperate press of his plump lips on yours is enough to erase the horrors of your day, just for a moment. he’s always had the power to do that to you, to make you feel like you’re on a different planet when you’re with him, no matter what is going on.

when you break apart, you press your forehead to his and attempt to regulate your breathing. he follows suit, so you grab his shampoo and work your fingers through his scalp. you’re so gentle, scrubbing lightly along his scalp to shed the dirt and grime from his hair. you study his every move, especially the way his head tilts back slightly as you scrub, eyes falling shut. he lets out a low string of air when you move his head under the stream of water, and you can’t help but plant a kiss to his sudsy neck.

once you lathered his body with just as much love and tenderness, and he so eagerly returned the favor, you two were finally ready to sleep in each other’s arms. you hand him your fluffiest towel, and allow him time to try off before you insist on moisturizing him before bed. he whines about it at first, a small little pout forming on his split lip. you kiss it, and it curls upward in a cheeky smirk.

“your skin needs it,” you promise, “plus, i kind of just want to touch all over you,” you wiggle your eyebrows flirtatiously. your first genuine smile all day appears on your lips at the blush on his cheeks. you never get tired seeing the effect you have on him. just like you did in the shower, you tenderly massage lotion into his skin, also applying an antiseptic to any minor scrapes or cuts, kissing them when he hisses at the sting.

you sit him down on the bed when you get back to your room, and grab a fresh pair of pajamas for him. he brings you between his legs, fingers intertwining with yours. “i love you,” he murmurs, and you smile.

“i love you more,” you reply against his lips, placing a quick kiss to them after, “let’s go to bed my love, let me hold you while you fall asleep, hm?”

you knew he could never say no to that.

[iriel3000]

This rant will self destruct in 5 seconds

WHY???

I do house work or paperwork or not fun whatever for HOURS and no one bugs me. THE MINUTE I START WRITING OR TRYING TO POST, the world needs me.

ARUGHAHGHAGHHGA😩

I am actually in the mood to write but no one else is in the mood to do what they are supposed to be doing so guess who keeps getting interupted every ten minutes.😭😖

and do I want my family or friends to know I write fanfic? NO! but that is when they need the computer(when they use their phone any other time) or stand directly behind me to talk to me as opposed in front like normal

it's a fucking conspiracy....

[help-alaas-family]

🚨URGENT DISTRESS CALL

400 Days Of WAR On Gaza, Palestine

My Account Was Verified & Listed #99

I'm Alaa Khateeb from Gaza, Palestine with 8 of my family among us 4 young Children under 10 years we lives a Dangerous WAR from 400 Days Ago feels like 400 years.

Please Read Our Story

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Pictures & Words Fail To Describe Our Situation🥹

Please Don't Leave Us Alone. Help Us Even With A Little, Because it's A Lot For Us.

Please Click & Donate🙏

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Direct Donation Link 🔗

[a-most-beloved-fool]

spirk using telepathy to keep each other alive. kirk, desperate, psy-null and untrained, reaching clumsily into spock's dying mind and pulling, dragging spock's essence into himself, wrenching him forceably from the very jaws of death and holding him there through sheer strength of will, saying you can't die, i won't let you, you can't leave me, i need you, and binding him to life and to himself until it's impossible to fully separate them. spock, more skilled, carefully managing each one of kirk's vital signs - keeping his heart beating steady, his lungs drawing breath, his temperature within a safe range, all while suppressing kirk's pain, and at the same trying, vainly, to keep their minds from tying themselves inexorably together, but they're pressed too close and he can't, and he hopes that kirk will forgive him, for bonding them like this (he will, of course he will), but the alternative, letting kirk die, was - unthinkable.

[lisbeth-kk]

Comments are welcome however old the fic is. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you loved the fic so much that you took the time to comment. Never stop doing that. It’s one of the things fic writers live for!

people who write fics. how do you feel about comments on super old ones you wrote like 2+ years ago

[alxandergoth]

The party is full of elaborate costumes, but something about this person catches Charlie’s eye. Ghostface has been lingering in his peripheral vision all night, throwing deliberate glances in Charlie’s direction, making his pulse race just a little faster. There’s something familiar about the way the masked figure moves, the confidence in the stance, the way their eyes—though hidden in the shadow of the mask—seem to fix on Charlie from across the room. Charlie knows he’s being watched, and he can’t help but feel the slow heat of curiosity rising in his chest. He’s always liked a little mystery, but this? This feels like it’s more than just a stranger at a party. Ghostface hasn’t said a word, but every time Charlie’s eyes meet the mask across the room, it’s as if the air between them tightens, like they’re sharing a private conversation no one else can hear.

[england-would-fall]

Do folks who are someone’s favorite fic writer, fan artist, etc. know it? Are they aware that their work has made a genuine impact on the lives of other human beings walking the planet? That there are real flesh-and-blood people who have been touched and affected by what they’ve made, and that they are thought of and discussed frequently with affection and gratitude and awe?

I hope they know. They deserve to know.