#sleep writer

[knife-filled-plushies]

i love the Smiling Critters as a cartoon concept and if it ever developed like mlp or something like that I can absolutely see something comical like this happening djkfskf

lesson at the end would probably be something about getting a healthy amount of sleep and staying on a good schedule jfhskf

[scribeofmorpheus]

Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral"

Concept art by Matt Rhodes

"To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals."

What is inherent with Veilguard that keeps bothering me is the fact that the world's choices truly didn't matter--and it doesn't simply bother me from a player perspective, it's not simply a grievance borne of frustration to what I (as a longtime fan) have lost. It's about the very culture of the arts under capitalism's new media habituation cycle [x][x].

Yes, I spent hours of my life playing and replaying each instalment of Dragon Age. Yes, I painstakingly curated a 'canon' world state by replaying what came before in preparation for Veilguard. Yes, I am even more unsatisfied with the end product--time hasn't helped, it's just widened the divide. But, and I can't stress this enough, these very personal gripes aren't what hit home the most. It's the inherent disregard of legacy. A legacy that the previous writers and game developers were building towards.

In the DAV artbook, "cathedral" is the word used to describe the process of making a game. Matt Rhodes' exact words are: "One artist can make a painting, but it takes a team to build a cathedral." Cathedrals took centuries to build. The architect who drafted the first blueprints would likely never see his work realised, he had to rely on those who came after him, like-minded and passionate, to see it through--for the culture, for the future, for legacy. Painters took on several apprentices for this reason too--giant frescoes were not completed by one man's hand, even if it is one man's name that immortalises them. Similarly, if you weave a narrative around choice, what good does it do to take it away at the final act if not to fall to caricature?

To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals.

Late-stage capitalism and profit-margin-obsessed game producers forcing developers to churn out meager content, to make a known brand into something it's not, to chase a fad or a popular trend... o, how reductive and cliche you've been forced to become Bioware. We have lost the cultural thought patterns relative to Cathedrals. We know only of barn-raised churches--done in a day but unlikely to last the turn of the seasons.

And don't even get me started on the music of Veilguard either. From Origins to World of Warcraft to Everquest to Baldur's Gate to Dungeon Siege, you can hear the intricate interconnected weave of sounds inspired by the Dungeons and Dragons-esque fantasy genre. You hear it in the repeated use of certain instruments, in the harmonic weeping notes of a bard-like singer or the foreboding echoes of drums as if of war. In tavern songs. But then, rather than hire someone who loves these worlds and this genre, who is a hungry artist looking to make a name, a legacy if you will, for themselves with a spectacular score, you hire any already sated composer, one well-into the encroaching years of career fatigue, whose notes repeat in countless projects, who feels less concise and more uninterested with each new project. One who has long since cemented his legacy. Someone in it for a paycheck and nothing else! And, to top it off, you let him compose something so minimalist? I am offended actually.

Cathedrals! We should have witnessed the final tile being placed on the Dragon Age cathedral. Instead, some architects walked up, tore down the interior and installed IKEA furniture and called it authentic before having to call the previous architects to come and fix the "load-bearing issues", forcing them to rush and add a coat of varnish and a few 'aged' details for authenticity.

[the-muppet-joker]

UGH I need to get serious about this Vore Fic. Okay. No food, sleep, or piss breaks until this is finished! Writing Kermit the Frog voring the Joker while Vriska watches is more important than my kidney health or wellbeing.

[deunmiu-dessie]

a paralysis demon plays with you at night, this time you're finally awake to see it.

you're not sure how it started. just that one day it did.

you'd wake up with sticky inner thighs and ruined sheets; the familiar pulsing of your clit, begging for attention almost overwhelming, and your muscles ached as if you had run a marathon the day before. tentatively you'd dip your hand into your panties, nimble fingers finding the hood of your engorged clit, eyebrows pulling together at the almost painful feeling it brought; then they'd drift lower, immediately sinking into creamy, wetness that pooled from your entrance and smeared your labia.

this perverse ritual had become your waking nightmare, weeks upon weeks of waking up to ruined panties and an insatiable hunger that couldn't be sated alone. frustration and tears intertwine, as your lithe fingers desperately caress and coax your clit but to no avail. it'd leave you cranky most days and unapproachable the rest.

what the hell was happening? at first, you believed it to be mere wet dreams, lost in the recesses of your mind. but the inability to find release, even with your touch or the mechanical hum of a vibrator, defied all reason. your sanity teetered on the edge, the constant ache and unrelenting wetness between your thighs, the demands of university, and the grueling hours at the fast-paced coffee shop on campus only exacerbate your torment.

breathe; you had told yourself. you just needed a day to sleep, in order to get back into the groove of your usual hectic life. and so, you make the decision to abandon your responsibilities, forsaking work and classes, seeking solace within the confines of your bed.

but that day you saw it.

as the night grew later, you found yourself slipping in and out of consciousness, struggling to keep your eyes open, you clung to the last shreds of wakefulness, determined to finish the movie that had lured you in with its promises of thrills and chills. the laptop, perched on your chest, emitted a faint glow, casting eerie shadows across the room. but despite your best efforts, the battle was futile. with a heavy sigh, you surrendered, closing the laptop and setting it aside.

that should've been it, you should have gone to sleep and woken up the next morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, no longer raging and horny, stressed and tired— just your normal self. yet, as if possessed by an unseen force, your eyes snap open, jolting your mind from the peaceful slumber you had so eagerly embraced, but not your body.

the room was cloaked in darkness, save for the feeble glow of a night light by the door. the time couldn't have been later than two in the morning, leaving you with ample hours until you needed to start getting ready for the day…so why were you up?

grunting you attempt to reach across to your desk and grab your water bottle, your throat suddenly dry and scratchy. but you couldn't move. in fact, your whole body felt numb, as if you'd been submerged in an ice-cold lake. you could feel the hair on your arms standing on end, your heart thumping painfully in your ribcage, desperate to escape from your chest and out the window just above your bed. frantic, your eyes darted around your room, flitting over the darkened corners and further on before subconsciously gazing upwards. it gazed back at you.

it was inky black, as if a void had materialized on your ceiling. barren of any discernible features, a foreboding presence emanated from it, sending chills down your spine. its limbs, neck, and torso twisted unnaturally, giving it a grotesque and elongated appearance. tears welled up in your eyes upon witnessing it, and you attempted to scream, only to find your mouth was sealed as if stitched with needle and thread.

the creature descended from above with erratic movements, settling above your figure and menacingly bringing its face closer to yours. this couldn't be happening, it must be a dream and in a desperate attempt to escape, you tightly shut your eyes and began counting backward from ten, gasping for air with each haggard breath.

however, a phantom graze on your thigh startles your eyes open. the creature was still there, its taloned, inky black hand slowly trailing along your clammy skin. even without a face, you could feel its gaze upon you, sinister and scheming. swallowing thickly, goosebumps follow in the wake of its touch, like tiny flames igniting your skin.

and almost as if accustomed to its advances, your body ignites with a dizzying heat, pussy weeping and your clit throbbing eagerly, readily despite your heart skipping and restarting all in one second with fear. its touch is tantalizing and deliberate, momentarily vanishing underneath your oversized night-shirt before returning to the heat of your thighs, talons pricking your flesh.

the creature's game finally comes to an end as it finds your fattened clit, which eagerly presses against the fabric of your panties, craving any form of touch. its assault is steady but firm and the touch immediately sets you off. your body, needy from weeks of being unable to orgasm, finally reaches its limit. you can feel the knot tightening in your tummy, a sharp, zinging pain in your lower abdomen, and the tensing of your thighs.

however, just as you approach your climax, the creature abruptly stops, shifting its touch to your slick inner thighs, face pressing closer to yours, leering and mocking. without the constant stimulation, your orgasm subsides, leaving you with a throbbing ache in your hips, cunt drooling with your arousal profusely.

your eyebrows cinch together, tears staining your cheeks before you're hit with a realization. the constant feeling of never being satisfied and not being able to cum, was because of this…creature.

its pitch-black visage suddenly splits into a sinister grin, revealing rows of serrated teeth gleaming with viscid, thick saliva. its voice is otherwordly deep, it's guttural, and raspy; fingers returning deftly to your clit to rub circles. "do you remember now?"

[harley-quinns-riddler]

Sleep Writer by Keith Robinson - #BookReview

The Book Review Sleep Writer by Keith Robinson is a delightful young adult read that smashes fantasy and science fiction into an engaging book. Can you imagine being a pre-teen in a small town living your boring life doing middle school like things and suddenly an attractive fifteen year old girl moves next door? Life suddenly changes! But, what if she asks you where the nearest graveyard is?…

[thepeculiarbird]

A day in the life of a writer:

The entire day: Doing anything except writing

between 10 p.m and 3 a.m:

This was a day in the life of an exhausted writer, see ya guys 🤩😊✌

[urfriendlywriter]

birthday prompts for loversss !

(feel free to usee<3 tag mee!! inspired by my b'day haha. plot twist is i am single :))

staying up to wish them at midnight

you bring them a cake, singing hbd, but all their attention is on you.

hugs you, tearing up, breaking down because nobody has done this for them ever

intimate b'day celebrations like it's just you and them and every whisper of hbd and well wishes are so comforting <3

cupcake b'day celebrations!

them hugging u from behind as they watch u make a wish

"what did u wish for?" u ask as a soft murmur and they say, "you. to never let u go."

i celebrated my bestie's b'day and she said to me,

^ "thank u for loving me every year and making me feel like i am being loved by someone,"

^ "knowing that, that someone is you, is what matters." (i won in LIFEE)

"how's my favorite b'day girl/boy doing?" :))

maybe it's their first time having their b'day being celebrated, :(

and all they can do is bury their face into ur neck and cry. the cake abandoned for a moment until they gain composure.

when they write u letters on ur b'day,

or give u thought-out gifts.

wiping cake from the corners of their lips

or alternatively just kissing it away, making them fluster. (uhm.. didn't happen on my bday, who's lyINGG-)

a quiet whisper of happy birthday,

tight hugs and lingering kisses throughout the day, and just feeling loved by the other person. feeling their emotions of gratitude to have u in their life!

telling them or writing to them, "It's your [age] birthday, and so [age] reasons why I love you." (eg: 20th, 19th and so on)

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Kissing

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Imagine Yandere!Zhongli in a Reverse!AU, where you're Liyue's Archon and you seal him away. Thousands of years ago, you and him were friends ruling over different sections of what would become Liyue. You hardly noticed the way his eyes lingered on you whenever he saw you, hardly knew how he would dream of having you all to himself.

One day, he makes an advance as you both sip on tea at Mount Aocang, pledging to move mountains and sink continents if you ask. The price of his eternal affection remains unsaid, but you can see it in the feral, draconic look in his eye. Every dragon has a hoard, even Zhongli. And he will stop at nothing until he can have you as his most valuable treasure.

Despite his efforts to prevent you from escaping, you manage to flee back to your territory. Weeks later, Zhongli attempts to catch you off guard with a surprise invasion, but in the heat of battle, you manage to seal him away beneath the earth.

Millenia pass, and you mourn the loss of a friend, but work to build the nation of Liyue up to the ground. The Fatui come, offering a deal for your Gnosis, and you refuse. It is a mistake you will regret every day for eternity.

One day, the earth shakes in a way that makes your stomach turn.

You feel his presence before you even catch a glimpse of his crystalline horns or golden eyes. Warm and earthy like petrichor. Running out into the city streets, you help an elderly couple around some piles of rubble, before continuing towards the source of the power.

The God of Contracts finds you first, though, easily snaring your feet in stone. His power is choking in a way, and when you try to fight back with your own magic, you feel the power in your body quickly draining from you. Zhongli notices the surprise in your face, and a small smirk plays on his lips. "I've had many years to learn some new...tricks, my treasure," he murmurs, striding towards you confidently. His fingers hook under your chin, pulling it up so your eyes gaze into his. "The people that freed me said they would let me keep you if I gave them your Gnosis."

In an instant, his hand is in your chest, grasping around for your Gnosis. You cry out in pain and try to struggle, but Zhongli grabs your shoulder in a tight grip, forcing you steady. It only takes a moment for him to pull out your Gnosis, gazing at it intently. "You cannot truly understand how long I have dreamt of this day. Of you, my dearest. And now, we will never have to be apart," he whispers, pressing his lips against yours greedily. He allows himself a few seconds to savor this scene, before pulling away.

"Now, my treasure. I wish to make a contract with you." With a wave of his hand, he manifests a piece of parchment filled with words on it out of thin air. "I will help repair all the damage I have done if you promise to be mine, in body and spirit, for better or for worse." You glare at him vehemently, spitting out your refusal. In return, Zhongli simply chuckles. "In that case, I will turn every building to dust," he threatens.

Turning to some already-damaged buildings, he raises a hand, ready to demolish them with a flick of the wrist. Your cries of acquiescence stop him before he can, however. When you finish signing, Zhongli gives you a predatory smile, brushing his fingers against the side of your face. "I knew you would surrender, my dearest," he purrs, possessiveness filling his eyes. "Now, allow me to fulfill my own contract, and then we can return home," he says.

You get the feeling that you will not be leaving home for a very long time.

[boltwrites]

Thinking about you and Logan both working at Xavier's and how you'd start to notice all his weird little quirks:

You don't think you've ever seen this man in pants that aren't form-fitting in some way. He's got the black leather for the X-Men suit, bootcut denim for daily wear. And that's all fine and dandy, but one time you snuck downstairs in the middle of the night (stayed up way too late reading a book you got super into) and found him in the kitchen. In jeans. At 2 AM. Did he... sleep in that?

You don't even want to ask about the hair. Scott swears he's seen cans of hairspray in his trash (why were you looking, Scott?) but Rogue is absolutely convinced he just has weird cowlicks. You are undecided.

It's undeniable that Logan actively tries to seem cool, though. You've caught slips in his gruff and sarcastic facade. Namely, the time he was working on fixing Scott's bike, meanwhile humming along to Britney Spears. He definitely didn't think you'd be able to tell through his Walkman, but you'd recognize that melody anywhere.

Oh, and even though he acted like he hated working with the kids? You knew that was a lie too. He wasn't a teacher, per say, but he definitely spent a lot of time helping kids out sparring, or listening to them complain about the other teachers. And you'd caught, on more than one occasion, gifts the kids had given him on his person. There was a bead lizards on his set of keys, and while the bracelets were braided in muted, neutral colors, you recognized the intricate knots of those friendship bracelets. He was a softie.

But by far the strangest was the time he'd missed a meeting and you'd somehow been assigned to drag him out of bed. When he hadn't answered the door, you'd decided to just barge in, irritated at having to wake a grown man in the first place.

But Logan didn't sleep like a normal man, was the thing. Your own standard bed at the mansion came with four pillows, a top sheet, a blanket, and a duvet. Meanwhile Logan's bed looked more like a nest than anything else. There were pillows spilling onto the floor, blankets twisted around each other, at least two comforters - and Logan, curled up in the middle of it all in the smallest ball he could manage, snoring lightly.

[hektor-world]

Good night

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Resources PDFs

As requested: https://www.writersarchive.com/

The documents contain sensitive themes and topics (e.g., related to death).

Some notes are from my old files, which may include outdated information. Others were made in response to a request. I also included a few references that are still in my queue & drafts.

Choose which tips & notes are most appropriate for your own writing. Some are just quick references. Thus, more research may be needed for your written work.

Updates may be made in irregular intervals for added material and/or corrections.

All PDFs are free. You can pay what you want/can here. There's a very small fee to keep the site up. But please don't feel obligated to, especially if you're in a rough patch at the moment—been there (+ it is the holiday season after all, which I know can be a tough time). Writing has always been a safe space for me, so if these references help you as well, that would be more than enough for me.

Thank you to everyone who had been so encouraging about this little project.

And thank you especially to @beforeyearning for creating the site ily (please follow his blog, he's a very talented writer).

[daily-haley]

Co-workers: you're so anti-social, always in your little world.

Me: *sitting in the corner, disassociating while writing my book in my head*

[ahhrenata]

Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie hears him. He keeps his eyes closed and just listens- to Steve grumbling to himself when his hair doesn’t sit quite right, who starts to hum and whisper some catchy song. Eddie turns his sleepy gaze onto Steve as he shuffles around their room- watching quietly as he slips on his clothes, his shoes, a simple chain with Eddie’s ring around his neck. A warm, affectionate smile breaks across his face. Before he leaves, Steve glances at what he expects to be a sleeping Eddie, but instead, he’s met with a rasped, ‘Hey.’ Eddie sits himself up, stretches his arm across Steve’s side of the bed, and reaches, fingers wiggling. Steve crosses the room to cradle his face.

Their foreheads press, noses bump, and Steve brushes his fingers across scars and dimples.

He breathes a quiet,

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’

Eddie huffs a tired laugh,

‘You know I never mind.’

Because, yeah.

Every morning Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie always hears him.

( another one from the poll | WIP )

[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.

[earth-orbit]

MEN BE SO GOOD AT WHIMPERING I NEED TO STUDY HIM IN A LAB!!!

[hayatheauthor]

"Why do you care so much about accidentally leaving people out?" Because I've had friend groups where they were the planets and I was their Pluto.

I've had friend groups where our dynamics revolved around a Sun, with everyone vying for their attention if only to bask in their light for a mere moment. Where our thinly strung bonds collapsed the second our Sun left.

I've had friend groups where they bonded as Saturn's rings, finding solace in their shared shortcomings while isolating those more talented than them.

But I've also had friend groups where we bond as Neptune and Uranus—so similar we could be known as twins. Friend groups like Venus and Earth: so awfully different, yet it was those differences that kept us together.

And I would rather create a social system like the latter than the former.