#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

[childrenofcain-if]

i am writing the main story. just so you know that i need time to finish chapters that are more than 100k words when i’m a full time uni student.

if you have so little faith in me when i’ve put so much thought, time and effort into this story, you should do us both a favour and leave. you’re saving yourself the non-existent ‘disappointment’ and i’m saving myself the headache of reading through more of these stupid asks.

i have no obligation to write for you. i’ll do it when i feel like it. stop acting like you’re paying me to write. the audacity you have would make people think like you’re providing me paychecks every month tf? i’m not your servant, goofy.

you don’t like the scenarios? fine, great. but many of my readers do so i suggest you just move along now and boss around some other IF author.

[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

[moreespressoformydepresso]

I really love how Greet The World With Open Arms is a show of how good a friend Polites is… and also how he’s wrong. His ideas sound nice, and they can be good when applied mindfully, but the way Polites goes about things nearly screws the crew over twice.

First, his greeting the world with open arms almost makes the crew eat a Lotus Flower that would make them slowly lose themselves and stay on the island forever. Only Odysseus recognizing them saves everyone from this fate. Then, he asks the Lotus Eaters for directions towards food they can eat, which sends them to the cave of Polyphemus. This moment, the decision to listen to the Lotus Eaters, is what causes the voyage to go wrong and kill everyone except Odysseus in the end.

The problem isn’t being open to the world around you, though. Sometimes, it’s good to relax and just enjoy the world as it is. However, completely ignoring the possibility of danger and trusting everything around you could lead to, say, eating poisonous plants or pissing off the wrong person. If Odysseus had stopped to consider the possibility of danger instead of believing in ‘goodness’ as he puts it in Luck Runs Out, he might’ve investigated the cave better or put someone on lookout. Or they could’ve taken some food for on the ship and dipped. They could’ve decided this isn’t worth it and instead tried their luck someplace else. They could’ve not killed the sheep and taken something else. If Odysseus had at any point been as on edge and suspicious of everything as he’d been at the start of Greet The World With Open Arms, this whole mess could’ve been avoided.

If Odysseus had kept in mind that blind trust could be dangerous like it had been when the Lotus Eaters offered them the fruits, things might’ve been fine and he’d have been spared 17 years of suffering.

Polites was right, Odysseus needed to relax because constantly being on edge is not good for you in the long run. But you also need to remember things can go wrong sometimes. It’s about balance, and Odysseus’s lack of balance is what loses him the trust of his men. He was too trusting with the Lotus Eaters, leading them to the Cyclops and causing the storm which made the crew weary (not helped by him dismissing their concerns with a “get over it and stop questioning me” without further elaboration). Then his total paranoia over the bag likely made them even more suspicious until Eurylochus opened it.

This post is not well structured, but it is a thought. Or something. Uhm. Balance. Please try to find a balance. No extreme will ever end up being productive.

You need a bit of apprehensiveness to avoid getting into sticky situations you could’ve avoided relatively easily, but sometimes you need to show a little trust

[writerfromshikahr]

Is this the best thing I've ever written? Probably not. Is it cute. Possibly...Maybe? Figuring out if you like someone and if it's a date date is hard people (it's a miracle my husband and I ever got together). Anyway, this is very much Aloisia coded, but generic Rook name. I had to get it out of my brain. Enjoy?

-----------------------------------------------------

Existing. Near Fruit - Lucanis X Rook

-----------------------------------------------------

The bustling noise of Treviso’s market filled the air, vendors shouting out their wares, the scent of fresh bread mingling with the sharper tang of spices. Rook walked beside Lucanis, her hands clasped tightly behind her back as she tried to focus on anything but how much she enjoyed his company. Just the two of them. Alone.

“You said you wanted oranges,” Lucanis said, his tone calm but his eyes scanning the stalls with the sharp precision of a seasoned Crow.

“I did,” she replied quickly, her voice slightly too eager. She tried to concentrate on the market, but he was incredibly distracting. How could someone look so attractive while haggling over fruit?

They approached a vendor, and Lucanis began negotiating with a steady and authoritative voice. Rook occupied herself by inspecting a basket of pears, stealing glances at him like a thief. After he handed over the coins and tucked the bag of oranges under his arm, he turned back to her.

“Anything else?”

“No, I think that’s… good,” she said, her voice trailing off. They started walking again, weaving through the crowd, when Rook blurted out, “This has been nice. Like… a date.”

Lucanis stopped dead in his tracks, his boots scuffing against the cobblestones. He turned to face her, his expression blank. “A date?”

Her face flushed red, it was a wonder she didn’t burst into flames. “No! Not a date! I mean, not a date date. Just… you know… two people… existing… near fruit.”

Lucanis blinked. “Existing. Near fruit.”

“Exactly!” she said, clutching onto the absurdity of her own words like a lifeline.

His head tilted slightly, his expression now a mix of curiosity and mild confusion. “Are you saying… you think this is a date?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Rook’s voice went up an octave. “Why would I… It’s not! Why would you even say that?” She paused, “Unless… you want it to be a date?”

Lucanis stared at her, his brow furrowing slightly as if she’d just asked him to solve an impossible riddle. “Do you want it to be a date?”

“What?!” she squeaked. “No! Why....I....” She caught herself mid-sentence and groaned inwardly. “I mean, do you?”

He looked at her for a long, agonizing moment, his dark eyes narrowing slightly like he was trying to calculate the exact meaning behind her words. “I… don’t know,” he admitted slowly. “Are we… dating now?”

“No!” she said, waving her hands frantically. “We’re not! This isn’t! It’s just groceries!”

Lucanis, still holding the bag of oranges, tilted his head again, the faintest twitch of a smile ghosting his lips. “So… not a date.”

“Exactly!” she said, nodding vigorously. “It’s not a date. It’s groceries. We’re existing! Near fruit!”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, his silence doing nothing to help her floundering. Rook groaned under her breath, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.

“Well, this has been… great. Really!” she said quickly, pointing toward a stall selling herbs. “I’m going to… over there!” She darted away without waiting for a reply.

Lucanis watched her go, his mind an inexplicable tangle of thoughts as he tried to decipher if she thought this was a date, or if it was the most confusing grocery trip of his life. He glanced at the bag of oranges in his arms.

“… Existing near fruit,” he muttered to himself, before following her to the next stall.

[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.

[honestlydarkprincess]

if you come across a harmless post that you disagree with, scroll. no use in writing an aggressive counter reply when i’m just gonna block you.

[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.

[grimst4rs]

“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.

[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.

[minimallycreative]

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

[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.”

[chrisnoelie]

months later, i STILL think it’s hilarious that nfl rpf was the thing that broke my incredibly long-lasting writers block. fucking nfl rpf. this stupid sport i grew up watching. all because i randomly got curious how many fics were on ao3 for a reason i can’t even remember now

[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.