#stupid writer's block

[here-2suffer]

Do you do this writer ask? 👀

If yes when 💫 or 💌, pick your choose :)

If no then just ignore me OwO✌

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

There's been this dialog in chapter 2 of Lave and War that I've been very excited to write, but I was writing Fish Tales first. I really like it and I wanna get to it, but writer's block just hit me like a brick the moment I started writing again 🥲

[jishyucks]

i rly need to finish this damn series so i can move on

[cynical-crypt]

reminder to writers/self

its ok to write shitty poems its ok to write shitty song lyrics its ok to write shitty stories its ok to be unoriginal its ok to reuse a line from something else you wrote its ok to reference other works its ok to be proud of shitty writing its ok to be proud of great writing its ok to be proud in general its ok to not use overcomplicated intricate wording in writing its ok to write about dumb shit its ok to write about fictional events its ok to write something awesome but have one weak line you cant really fix its ok to write something terrible but have one amazing line that doesn't fit its ok to write about emotions you don't really grasp its ok to write

[luna-naoffcial]

@redvexillum please Please please please!! Can i pleaseeeee use your oc? As an inspo for my drawings, I'm still trying to find my artstyle and trying new brushes 😭😭 please please please!!!

[gaywarcriminals]

Once finally left alone, Shen Qingqiu resisted the urge to snoop for all of 20 minutes. Look, if he was going to be stuck living as this man, he was within his rights to go through the original goods stuff! It was research, really— he was just doing his best to obey the systems draconian demands of staying in character! It was a perfectly sound course of action— Shen Qingqiu just wished he hadn’t started with the bedroom. 

There, in the second drawer Shen Qingqiu gleefully yanked open, was a neatly lined up row of items sealing Shen Qingqiu’s death sentence. Shen Qingqiu wanted to cry as he started at the vials of oils and jar of unguent, the coil of bright red ropes, and most damningly of all, a hyperrealistic dildo carved of black jade, big enough to rival the heavenly pillar. Shen Qingqiu knew the original goods was lascivious, but immortal biding cables? What poor shimei was he forcing??? And that thing: surely it couldn’t fit comfortably inside any woman, at least not without the protagonist’s skills to ease the way! Shen Qingqiu picked up the weapon— there was no better name for it— and wondered if destroying it would spare him any torture. Surely at least a fingernail or two!

“Qingqiu, I forgot to ask, did—“

Shen Qingqiu made a very dignified sound of surprise as Yue Qingyuan entered the room behind him. Yue Qingyuan stopped in his tracks, looking between Shen Qingqiu and the jade monstrosity. Shen Qingqiu opened his mouth to make an excuse, but what could he say? This scene was inexcusable. Dying of mortification was certainly one way of avoiding being human sticked! 

“Qingqiu, you’ve barely gotten out of bed, you can’t possibly be ready for dual cultivation yet. Look how red you are, you must still be feverish.” Shen Qingqiu stared agape as Yue Qingyuan moved too close for propriety and pressed his hand to Shen Qingqiu’s forehead. He hummed consideringly. “I’ll go fetch Mu-shidi.”

“No.” Shen Qingqiu squeaked— the last thing he needed was another witness!

Yue Qingyuan sighed indulgently. “Alright, If Qingqiu is truly in need, this Qi-ge will use his mouth.” 

For the second time that day, Shen Qingqiu fainted.

[soulfullives]

“you’re beautiful,” sirius whispered, tucking a loose curl behind remus’ ear.

he huffed a laugh, bringing his legs to his chest.

he knew he wasn’t. his nose was too big for his face, and so were his mouth and eyes. his ears, too. his eyebrows were too thick, and there was a certain sadness to his eyes that he could not quite place. his face looked wrong, in a way, and he shied away from his mother whenever she called him handsome.

“thank you,” remus said, because that was what he was told to do when complimented. nod and thank, even though he knew it was a beautiful, beautiful lie.

“i mean it.” sirius cupped his face, warm brown eyes melting into metallic cold. his cigarette hung loosely between his fingers, but he didn’t seem to mind, ash falling on the floor. “you’re so fucking beautiful, remus.”

said sirius, with beautiful, raven curls and fair skin, plump lips, hooded eyes and long eyelashes. said sirius, with high cheekbones and long fingers, straight nose, a devil-like grin, and an elegance of royalty.

said sirius, to whom referring as beautiful was an understatement.

“you are, too,” remus smiled, ignoring the weird feeling in his stomach, pressing a chaste kiss to sirius’ lips.

[pinkanonwrites]

I'm straddling an INCREDIBLY FRUSTRATING line right now where I'm once again hyperfixating in Vash The Stampede and wanna write about him. And yet when I sit down and try to write anything (Trigun, Transformers, even TWST) my brain is just completely and utterly empty. I'm really struggling to even put concepts together, and when I try to lock in on the few ideas I do have I can't make them go anywhere.

I took a break from writing because I was so busy with life and work but now when I actually want to get back at it my brain just refuses to work with me.

[minimallycreative]

does anyone know how words work. cause i think i forgor.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Summer days induced sleepiness, causing Obanai to be constantly bored but too lazy to do anything. In hopes to cure his dilemma of having nothing to do, he called Mitsuri. She was quick to answer and eager to please, having her mother drop her off at Obanai’s house. But apparently even Mitsuri’s never ending enthusiasm was dampened by the hot weather, and they ended up laying aimlessly on the couch, staring at the ceiling and talking.

Somewhere through Mitsuri’s explanation about why one of her cats was refusing to go in her bedroom, she trailed off. Obanai took a moment to realize that she wasn’t just thinking and he propped himself up, gazing down at Mitsuri. She was curled up, back facing him, her eyes closed. She must’ve fallen asleep, he realized, and smiled to himself. Oh, well, they could both use some sleep to pass time. So Obanai lay back down, letting himself relax into a dreamless sleep.

Some time later, he awoke to the sound of rain. A bit confused, mind muddled from sleep, he blinked, turning to the window. His eyebrows lifted as he realized it was raining, the trees outside swaying in time with the wind. The drastic weather change threw him off for a moment and he struggled to understand if he’d slept a whole day.

Then he felt Mitsuri rolling over, still asleep as she found a more comfortable position. He sought out his phone, noting it had been a couple hours since they’d fallen asleep. Likely, Mitsuri’s parents were wondering what she was doing now. It was beginning to get late anyway, and she’d promised to be home by 5. It was 6, now, but he hoped the rain was enough explanation for her lack of response to their undoubtedly worried texts.

Gently, he nudged Mitsuri, trying to wake her up. “Mitsuri…” he whispered, moving one of her braids to settle against her back.

Mitsuri shifted, but didn’t awaken right away. After repeating the process again, Obanai managed to get her to sit up, her hands closing to rub at her eyes. She mumbled something of question, yawning.

“It’s, uhm, six,” he explained. “You probably have to get home now.”

With that, she snapped awake, grabbing her phone to frantically text her parents. Obanai waited patiently until she’d sorted things out, watching her expressions change quickly. She was always so expressive, and he adored that about her.

After a while, she looked up with an apologetic smile. “Is it alright if I just stay here for the night? Something happened with some tree that fell in my neighborhood… I think from the wind? So they’re not allowed to drive through, and I live on those dead end roads,” she explained, eyes flicking down to her phone. “If not, I can tell my parents and we’ll figure out a way to get me back.”

Obanai was reasonably surprised, but shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll consult my cousin, but she usually doesn’t care,” he promised. Their parents were gone for some time, and given that his cousin was eighteen, he was put in her charge for the moment. She was honestly bad at her job, but it meant more freedom for him.

“Are you sure? Can you ask her now? I want to tell my parents,” Mitsuri said, then quickly added, “they won’t mind either answer, I just don’t want them to worry any longer.”

Nodding, Obanai stood and maneuvered the house to his cousin’s room, knocking and waiting impatiently. She appeared after a moment, raised an eyebrow, and interrupted him before he could get two words out.

“Do whatever. Just leave me be,” she said flatly, then shut the door in his face.

…alright. It wasn’t Obanai’s fault if she got upset at Mitsuri’s stay.

He returned to the living room, giving Mitsuri the okay. She confirmed it with her parents, reassured them that it was Obanai and she’d be fine, then pocketed her phone.

“Ahh, I’m sorry about that,” she fretted.

“No, no. It’s okay. You’re staying the night, right? Are you hungry?” he asked. He wasn’t hungry himself—would’ve just skipped dinner—but Mitsuri nodded and they moved to the kitchen.

Once they pulled some random foods from the fridge and the cabinets, Obanai made some quick sandwiches, not quite wanting to cook and risk his cousin being annoyed by the smells. They settled down to eat, and Mitsuri chatted animatedly, quite refreshed from the nap and the cooler temperature. After they finished eating, they departed to Obanai’s room, taking the safer bet in staying out of anyone’s way.

The rain continued on, and somewhere around 10, Obanai glanced outside. It had gotten dark a couple hours ago, but now he could barely see anything out the window except the street light that glowed pitifully against the blur of the rain and the darkness around it. Mitsuri followed his gaze, humming something of content.

“Rain sounds are so pretty,” she commented, beaming when Obanai agreed. “They make me tired, sometimes. But we slept earlier so I’m not too tired now…”

“We can stay up,” Obanai offered. He didn’t feel like sleeping much, either.

Mitsuri pondered this, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip. “Okay,” she agreed, after a moment. “But let’s sleep at midnight, maybe? I don’t want to be tired tomorrow.”

With that agreed to, they took brief showers and Obanai offered her some of his bigger clothing (which admittedly fit Mitsuri a bit snuggly), and they clambered into his bed. Mitsuri kept up a steady conversation, skipping through topics and leading most of the talking. She seemed happy with it, snuggling closer to him and pulling the blanket to her chin. The night dozed on but they remained awake until nearly 1 a.m. when Mitsuri checked her phone and panicked at how they’d lost track of time.

She was keen on sleeping, and Obanai caved, allowing himself to be pulled down and join her in resting. Though he couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep, Mitsuri somehow managed to drift off amazingly quickly, her arms wrapped around him as her breathing steadied out.

Quite late into the night, somewhere around 2 a.m., Obanai heard the faint sounds of his cousin finally ceasing her unnecessarily loud music and settling into sleep, as well. The rain was still going, as was Obanai’s body’s apparent lack of interest in resting. Mitsuri continued providing him with warmth he wasn’t used to, and he found himself pulling her closer at one point, bringing the blanket higher to tuck around her more tightly. He closed his eyes, trying to match his breathing to hers. Before he knew it, his mind was wilting, dipping into the unmistakeable signs of fatigue. It could’ve been the pattering of raindrops on the roof, or the steady rise and fall of Mitsuri’s breath, but Obanai was finally lulled into sleep, sinking into her embrace and letting the late hour whisk him away into hazy dreams.

[not-equippedforthis]

giving arthur one (1) iota of happiness before his life comes almost comically crashing down

[adhd-merlin]

a lesson in manners

For @merlinmicrofic. Prompt: "Then go", Arthur/Merlin/Gwen, Established Relationship, Gen. Words: 500

“Well.” Merlin rises from his chair. “If there's nothing else.”

Guinevere turns to him – her disappointment clear in her eyes, even though she tries to keep it from her voice. “You’re leaving?”

“Sorry.” Merlin smiles apologetically. “I promised Gaius I would be back in time for supper.”

Which is fair enough. Merlin’s been dining with Arthur and Guinevere more often than not, lately. They have – perhaps selfishly – grown used to his presence.

“Hardly the first time you've kept him waiting,” Arthur observes. Just to be contrary.

“Precisely. He's starting to ask questions.”

“What sort of questions?” Guinevere asks.

Merlin looks at her with a pointed raise of his eyebrows. “Ones I'd rather not answer.” Guinevere’s mouth curves into a faint smile. She closes her eyes when Merlin leans down to kiss her temple.

“I'll see you tomorrow. Good night.” Merlin nods at Arthur before going to the door.

Guinevere looks at him with a hint of sadness in her eyes – which, as a general rule, Arthur finds unacceptable. Guinevere should never look sad. Not in his presence. Not if he can help it.

“Merlin?” Arthur calls. Merlin stops, his hand on the handle. “Is that the way to take leave of your king?”

Merlin looks puzzled. “I'm sorry. Did I forget to bow?” he asks, and he does so, with a jester-like flourish.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Yes. Not that it matters. Come here.”

“Arthur…” Merlin protests, weakly, but he obeys his beckoning.

“Guinevere got a kiss. I was just wondering at the disparity of treatment,” Arthur explains – not because he cares, but just to keep Merlin there a little longer.

Merlin clicks his tongue. “She's nicer than you.”

Arthur just looks at him.

Merlin sighs, theatrically, and Guinevere giggles.

Good.

When Merlin bends down – no doubt to give Arthur a quick peck on the lips – Arthur grabs his ridiculous neckerchief and pulls. Merlin gasps, grasping one of Arthur’s arms as he tips over, and slamming his knee next to Arthur’s thigh to avoid smashing his face against the back of his chair.

“Arthur— ” The rest of his objection is rudely interrupted by Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur kisses Merlin until he’s breathless – maybe from the kiss, maybe from the cloth that’s pulled tight around his neck. Arthur doesn’t loosen his grasp. He knows Merlin likes it. 

When Arthur breaks their kiss, Merlin blinks at him vacantly. He moves his lips as if to shape a word, but seems to have forgotten what he wanted to say.

Then, he remembers. “Gaius is waiting,” he mumbles – eyes fixed on Arthur's mouth.

Arthur lets go of Merlin’s neckerchief and pats his chest. “Then go,” he says, amiably.

Merlin gets to his feet – a bit shakily. His ears are red. He walks to the door again, turns as if to say something, then frowns and closes his mouth. Wordlessly, he leaves.

Guinevere starts laughing.

Good.

“That was mean,” she says. 

Arthur takes her hand and kisses it. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it up to him.”

[mystical-marlin]

I’ve been dealing with some really bad writers block for MONTHS

Which I’m very sorry for my lacking contribution to the gay

But I finally figured out why, and it’s the dumbest reason ever.

The Cape Henlopen.

The Cape Henlopen is a WW2 LST that runs as a ferry in New England, which is a boat I work on, and where I did most of my writing while on watch.

Well the cape went into the ship yard right after I posted the last most recent chapter of Crash Landing.

Well she’s out of the yard now and the writers block went away.

So, more coming soon.

[scary-grace]

idk what it is but I'm feeling distinctly unholy today

[dracocheesecake]

Kai's Hair Routine

A drabble inspired by @skauni

Kai let the water pour over his head. Usually, he didn't bother with this-bathing, even at the end of a campaign, felt lavish on the edge of frivolity- but there had been a comment made by a certain someone that he couldn't let slide.

He took out a bottle of the rice water he had made (rice water! During the war, like he was some sort of noble in the Emperor's court!). It was poor stuff, really, having been fermented only a day, with water from nearby streams and rice from his own provisions- of which there was plenty. All that the soldiers ate most days was just rice.

Kai gritted his teeth as he poured some of it over his head, and smoothed it into his mane. It felt somewhat sticky, and he wasn't certain that this would even work- but if it knocked that smug look off of that lip-smacking wannabe buddha's face-

He grumbled and combed his hair out with his fingers (as best as he could- it was thick, and heavily tangled). This was a long process, but by the end he felt he had done something right. He rinsed himself off, dried as quick as he could, put his hanfu back on, and reentered the yurt he shared with his co-general.

Oogway was reading a report, but looked up when Kai's form blocked his light. Kai smirked down at him, his hands on his hips. His mane, freshly dried, hung over his shoulders in shining, black tresses that curled slightly at the ends.

"See?" He said, "I do know how to wash it."

Oogway chuckled. "Yet you still haven't learned to brush it."

Kai's eyes widened. He grit his teeth, flushing to his ears. "I did too!" He snapped, "It's just-"

His jaws shut again. Then he crossed his arms and turned his face away. For all the fearsome titles he had acquired, at that moment he looked like a pouty toddler. Oogway laughed again, but there was a more gentle lilt to it that made Kai soften.

"I know. Come here and we'll see if it can be amended. Maybe you'll end up looking like we can present you at the next treatise signing."

Kai's ears flickered back. He grit his teeth again. "I didn't look that bad," he grumbled. But he still sat down on a mat in front of him, his back turned towards the tortoise so he could work. Oogway picked up a nearby lacquered box, green and gold, and opened it. Inside was a selection of shubi- combs of different fineness.

From amongst these he plucked the largest, a thick-toothed shu of polished jade. He hummed again, then took up a section of Kai's mane, brushing it.

"You were still covered in blood," Oogway noted colloquially, "and mud, and who knows what else. And your mane caught fire after you passed the torches and stayed lit, probably because of all of the grease in it."

"It. Wasn't. That. Bad," Kai insisted. He crossed his arms again, huffing and grumbling under his breath. Oogway rolled his eyes, but dropped it for now. After a moment he continued humming.

"It was thoughtful of Lord Boqin to send you these combs," he said as he worked, rooting out each tangle- and there were plenty of them. Kai snorted.

"And those calligraphed scriptures for you. But if the terms we lay down tonight go over- they will, he doesn't have a choice- he'll be sending assassins next."

Oogway separated the layers and pinned them back with a few fine-toothed bi. "Oh, undoubtedly. But at this point, that just comes with being a warlord. Have to get them first."

He paused after he said this. There was something in his mind that seemed to ring every time he thought like this, every time this subject came up, something that had been bothering him more and more throughout their bloody career; something he would never bring up in front of Kai, of course...But sometimes he wondered: did it have to be this way? Why? Where would it all lead?

Was there another path they could follow, one not so full of bloodshed and treachery, one that would lead them to a life of peace and fulfillment that the glories of war could not provide?

He had been so caught up in these thoughts that he didn't pay mind to his brushing- not until Kai cried out. Oogway blinked out of his reverie, the worry dissipating like a cloud in the wind. He smirked.

"You didn't so much as groan when you got stabbed by a spear," he said, "but you cry when someone tugs on your hair."

"I'M NOT CRYING! YOU'RE TRYING TO PULL MY SCALP OFF, YOU FU-"

Oogway pulled the comb, pulling the mane taut, and Kai's head followed. He winced. Oogway chuckled and eased up some. With more gentleness this time around, he ran his claws through the knots, untangling them. A few more moments, and he began to remove the rest of the combs, finishing by tying Kai's mane partially up in a top bun.

"There. Now you look like one of the Supreme Warlords of All of China," Oogway teased lightly. Kai snorted and rose.

"As long as it doesn't catch fire again," he murmured.

"Well, that depends on how often you wash your hair." He seemed to think for a moment. "...You know, actually- don't wash your hair anymore."

Kai looked at him, tilting his head. "What? Why?"

"I was thinking that maybe we could start gathering the grease from your hair. We might be able to save on lantern oil- don't hit me!" He dodged Kai's blow, giggling.

[theartofdreaming1]

Working through an annoying art block at the moment and rendering (especially lineart) is scary right now, so instead I decided to just post a sketch (and hey, it's even colored! #progress) - so have some Laura & Max being cosy 🥰

[noturlondonboy]

You guys writers block is kicking my ass rn and I am NOT here for it

I have like seven different one shots started, three drafts of asks that I’ve started, and the beginning of the next chapter for two different series I’m working on but the moment I sit down to work on any of them my brain goes “nope you have no ideas and your hands don’t work anymore”

I’m going to throw a fit I’m gonna do it