#writer headaches
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I am at an impasse with both Father Daryl and sub!Daryl one shots. Struggling to decide on the ideas I have for both.
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excali8ur · 1 year ago
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It's a shame Raph and April didn't spend more time hanging out in the show tbh. I figure their dynamic would be something like this
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linseymorris · 1 year ago
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— Lucas on the Line by Suyi Davies Okungbowa
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local-lover-boy · 3 months ago
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If this post gets 100 notes I'll type up and post the long ass poetry I wrote last night called "Become human (I'm begging)"
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robinfollies · 1 year ago
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me and the guy i pulled by accidentally implying i like jazz music
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shadowseductress · 5 days ago
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the day I overcome headache and procrastination its over for yall
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the-broken-pen · 7 months ago
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Hiii, I love your writing! It's so great that you're back! Could you write something like two actors are playing hero/villain in a movie or theater, but both of them sometimes just gets too in character/or just gets too stuck in character, so for like moments they actually forget that they are just acting?
“You didn’t think I’d let you die by anyone else’s hand but mine, did you?” The villain cocked their head to the side, grinning.
Distantly, the hero registered the whispering of stage commands, but tuned it out.
“You can’t just kill anyone who threatens me,” they argued back. They watched as the villain’s grin sharpened.
“Watch me,” the villain whispered, stepping closer. Fake blood was drying on the side of the hero’s head, and it itched more than usual. Must be a new brand from costuming.
“I could arrest you,” they offered, but they let the hesitation show on their face. Visible enough for the camera to catch their unwillingness, no matter how fake it was. Good enough nobody could tell the difference between real and not.
“You won’t.”
The hero tipped one head to the side
“And why’s that?”
The hero shifted, leaning in towards the villain.
“Because you’re mine,” the villain whispered, tone playful as their eyes seared into the hero’s.
The hero’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t on purpose.
Something kindled in their chest.
“Oh yeah?”
The villain shrugged one shoulder in perfect time to the script, and the hero pulled the next line to the tip of their tongue—
“Prove it.”
That was not the next line.
That wasn’t a line at all.
The villain blinked just once, the only sign of surprise they would allow, before their grin widened. Their shoulders loosened into something feral, something that delighted in this change.
Something that belonged off-stage.
“I’m covered in the blood of the people who hurt you,” the villain’s voice was smooth sliding down the hero’s spine. They shivered. “What more proof do you want, love.”
They blushed furiously at the nickname, even underneath the stage makeup, and at the pleased look on the villain’s face, it was visible.
What was the line what was the line what—
Their hands fisted into the front of the villain’s costume, dragging them closer. The villain let them, hand settling on the hero’s waist in a movement far too smooth.
“I don’t know,” the hero murmured, and they were just as surprised as the villain when their lips hovered just over the other’s ear. “Why don’t you stop trying to kill me, for starters.”
The villain tugged them closer, and the hero’s eyes went to their lips.
The villain looked at the hero like they wanted to devour them.
Fuck, what had been the line—
“Oh, but you’re so pretty covered in blood, Hero,” the villain crooned, and the hero opened their mouth to say something, their tongue a separate entity from their brain at this point—
“Hold!” Someone off-stage called, and they both froze. A second later, they were halfway across the stage from one another. Slipping out of being the hero and back into being themself felt like hitting a brick wall.
If the way the villain shuddered was any indication, they had forgotten they were playing a character too.
The hero turned away to face the tech crew, hand settling over their face to hide their blush.
The villain’s gaze was molten and heavy on their shoulders, even from as far away as they were.
“I don’t think that’s in the blocking,” the stage manager frowned, flipping through the script.
None of that was the blocking. No matter how much the stage manager searched those pages they would never find those lines.
Fuck.
“Improv,” the hero choked out, flushing. “It was, uh. A creative choice—“
From behind one of the curtains, they heard a crew member snort, muttering something about teenage actors and horniness—
The villain was smirking, a wicked thing.
“Right,” the stage manager said slowly, brow furrowed from where they sat. They murmured something into their headset, eyes shifting up between the villain and the hero, before they slid a screen in front of themself.
Just barely, the hero could make out the shape of the scene they had just filmed.
The screen went black, the room silent for a moment, before the stage manager let out a long suffering sigh.
“We’re changing the blocking.”
“What?” The hero yelped.
The villain settled their hands into their pockets, unbothered and grinning.
“We’re keeping the scene,” the stage manager nodded towards their tablet, and the hero almost passed out on the spot. They watched the stage manager eye the pleased and possessive look on the villain’s face. “For now, though, let’s call it a wrap for the day.”
Shuffling began, lights flickering off, and the hero escaped to their own dressing room, panting slightly.
Dear god, they were so fucked. They had forgotten they were acting, again—
“Improv, hm?” The villain grinned, lock sliding into place. The hero hadn’t even heard them come in.
The hero groaned. “I don’t know what happened—“
“Yeah,” the villain nodded, and they were closer than they had been a moment ago.
The hero swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
The villain raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
The hero waved one hand between them. “For, you know—“
The villain was still smiling.
It was then they remembered who had fought so hard in the writers’ room for the villain and the hero to end up together.
‘Enemies to lovers,’ the villain had said, eyes dark. ‘The fans will love it. There’s been sub plot for the last two seasons.’
The directors had pushed back, but now—
Oh. The villain wasn’t mad.
They were pleased.
The hero choked.
“You,” the hero tried.
“Me,” the villain agreed, and then they were kissing, all-consuming and desperate.
They made a noise in the back of their throat, the villain twining their hand into the hero’s hair.
“You forgot you were acting,” the villain murmured against their lips, and kissed them again before the hero could defend themself. “That I’m not really your villain and you aren’t my hero.”
The villain settled the hero onto the counter, coming to stand between their legs, one hand on their hip.
“Fuck,” they gasped, and they could feel the villain’s grin against their skin.
“Mhm.”
Somehow, the hero’s arms had ended up looped over the villain’s shoulders.
“Maybe stop killing people, and I’ll consider it,” they said between breaths.
“What?” The villain pulled back slightly.
“The line I forgot,” the hero said. They could drown in the villain’s eyes, they were sure of it. “Maybe stop killing people—“
“Don’t care,” the villain bit out, and then their mouth was on the hero’s again and nothing else mattered.
Maybe they weren’t truly hero and villain—but god were they good at pretending.
Three months later, the internet couldn’t decide what was better—that finally, after years, the hero and villain had ended up together on screen; or that off stage, their actors were desperately, hopelessly in love too.
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sparkandashes · 3 months ago
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While others were out there building their dream lives, you were just trying to make it through the day. You weren’t chasing dreams or setting goals, or maybe you were but you couldn’t accomplish anything because you were just trying to exist, trying not to fall apart, trying not to die...
You’re not incompetent. You’re not lagging behind. It’s just that your path has been a lot harder, a lot darker. You’ve been carrying a load of trauma that most people can’t even imagine. You weren’t given the luxury to thrive because you were too busy surviving. You had to take the time to heal, to just breathe, to sit with your pain, and learn how to live with it.
You weren’t wasting time—you were saving yourself. And that’s something only you can understand, something no one else sees. And that’s okay.
—Day 1 of being kind to myself
@sparkandashes
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miradelletarot · 29 days ago
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I am honored to announce that I have been selected to be a part of the @galefanzine ! I am among some seriously, RIDICULOUSLY incredible talent, and I couldn't be more excited to move forward with this project.
Not only is this my first zine, it's also for charity! So, stay tuned y'all if you want all the Gale content your hearts could ever desire. 💕
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alairroux · 1 month ago
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Another chapter! I wrote it right after watching X-Men:First Class" and needed to process my feelings, so it might get intense at moments. Also, it's my last free weekend before going back to school, so the updates will be less frequent.
Chapter VII
"Empty Promises"
“ No wonder you’re seeking shelter away from your own mind.”
A smooth, male voice spoke from behind her. The voices in her head still heavy, screaming over one another. She could barely hear him through that, but even with that, she could feel him putting so much pity into her being. And that she hated. The last thing she wanted now was pity. There were so many more things than someone could’ve done for her, and picking the pity was literally the worst route. She slowly got up, taking one final glance at the darkening water in the pond. She turned to face the man that was standing behind her, the moment their eyes met, the pain in her mind getting even greater, making her dizzy and her emotions even more evident. 
“Charles Xavier… What a meeting. Truly a unique occasion.” 
She spoke, looking directly at him, her head still feeling heavy. The anger was bubbling just under the surface. Alice couldn’t really pinpoint from where it was coming, but it for sure wasn’t a new feeling. It’s been there for a good while now, only growing, fueled by everything she heard and everything that happened lately. 
“ I’m surprised you know my name. Maybe you're an even more impressive telepath than you seem to be.”
“Maybe? Just maybe?” She laughed, all control shattering in her. “I’m much more than you can comprehend. Taking in the fact that you could barely handle your own mutants.” 
First pin, right where it hurts. She was in his mind, searching all the memories this version could share with her. The pain in her mind caused her to move slower, blink in slow motion, almost forget to swallow her own saliva, like she was going completely crazy, losing every healthy strand in her mind. The eyes weren’t in their best condition as well. Hurting. She could feel their pain seep into her soul, her whole body burning. 
“Is that so? What makes you so much more than them? So much more than me?”
“Power? I mean, everything around you, or even you wouldn’t be there if it wouldn’t be for my mind right now. That’s something you wouldn’t have handled well. Even if you did, any connection you’d try to make to my mind, would only make it all worse. There’s enough pain in there already, you don’t have to put more of it there.”
She tilted her head to the side, feeling like the whole world around them moved with it, slowly tilting, threatening to roll over. It was so loud. The water behind her was bubbling as well, she could not only hear but feel that as well. So cold. It was cold, and it was bubbling like it was boiling, whatever was in there, was definitely not so friendly. 
“Even if it would be possible for you to carry greater power than I do, I’d still love to try to help you.” 
How sweet. Always caring for others, or maybe just for his fascination over mutations. She could see it, his eyes scanning over her, seeking answers, seeking signs of what exactly was different about her. However she was keeping him away from her mind putting some mental barriers. 
“And where are all the other mutants you promised your help to?”
That was a strike right between his ribs, a sharp blade of her words, said in such a monotone voice, pierced his chest, leaving him speechless. Dead. Most of them were dead already, he didn’t manage to save them, to help them. 
“Why do you still believe you can fix this? That you can fix humans? They’re unfixable, driven by fear and desire to rule over anything and everything.” 
She spoke calmly, taking a few steps ahead, feeling the burning pain travel through her bones, down her neck, then spine, spreading over to her shoulders, arms, until it reached her joints, making it painful to move her hands, causing them to crack with each movement, but somehow it was so satisfying.
“Because, when they stop fearing us, it’ll all change for the better. They have nothing to fear just because we’re different. We just have to try.” 
“It’s been a good few decades since you started all that and unfortunately I doubt there’s any change. If anything, there’s less mutants than there used to be. Humans don't change. Ever. They abandon their own families if they sense any danger in them. I used to have a family. Loving parents and a brother that was so close with me, you’d think we share a soul. But they abandoned me. They left me alone with nothing, after years of putting me through torture.” She smirked, feeling the flood of unpleasant memories pouring over her mind. “My telepathy started when I was eight. You know what they did? Dragged me from one doctor to another, getting me all those kinds of meds, putting so many mental issues in my charts it seemed impossible, trying to block my mind, make me catatonic, they even got drugs somehow to feed to the twelve year old me. Because the thought of having a mutant at home was terrifying enough to try everything, even if it could’ve killed me.” 
It hurt the same. After those two years it hurt the same way. She was abandoned and misunderstood because of their fear of having a ‘monster’ in close proximity. She could sense him trying to come up with something, despite the anger still in her veins, the mess in her mind, she decided to give him a chance to voice himself, the last chance one would say. First and last, as she never really met him. Was she even meeting him right now? It was all in her head, borrowed pieces from Logan’s memory, put into her own reality, with the pond overflowing, the darkness staining soft grass. 
“I’m very sorry that you had to experience that. No one should’ve gone through a mess like that. That’s why my school, the Institute, was important and needed. For those like you, like me… Us. To find refuge from all the dangers we might face just because of some gene mutations.”
“And where is this safe place now? Was it ever there? From what I know, the danger and death reached all of you there anyway.” 
Word for word, maybe a bit pessimistic look at it all, but she wasn’t really wrong with it. The safety was very temporary for a really short time, then again the death, pain and suffering reached its claws out for the entire race, with one goal in mind. To end them all. One by one pull them apart, until only the normalcy will be left. 
“Right again, aren’t you? But without trying there’s no chance for change, submitting to them wouldn’t fix anything either.”
“And how many lives were you willing to sacrifice just to prove my point that nothing ever changes?”
She could sense his anger rise up, it was starting to match her own, which was a dangerous combination. The voices in her mind once again getting louder, she could almost feel them pull her brain to parts. One after another, severing any connections that were there. She could feel him trying to enter her mind, lowering her defense just to put out an attack. The red eyes littering the skin on her face, focusing on him, multiple pupils turned towards him with an angry glow. The waves of pure pain from her mind, sharp like needles, started to pin into his brain, first just landing on the surface, slowly moving inside, almost like that coin all those years ago, just this time it was hundreds of them instead of just one. 
The liquid darkness reached her feet, starting to crawl up her body, somehow its coldness felt refreshing. She just stood in the same place, tilting her head to the side, seeing him writhe in pain. It was quite a sight. A telepath, believed to be strongest one of his kind, nothing but a worm on her mercy, somehow filled her with a sense of pride. 
“ You know, if you’d talk less and do more, maybe at least some of those lives could’ve been saved. I wonder how many versions, variants of you there were, and how many of them failed everyone just like you did.” 
When he tried to attack her mind, the eyes covered the sky around her, making it red, littered with eyes, the air filled with pain and fear. He didn’t know where to look now. Only sometimes glancing towards her like she was the one to be feared. One of her kind fearing her, and he expected humans to just accept her among them? Funny. 
“I’m sorry Charles, but I pick saving myself, before any of your nonsense will reach and destroy me as well”
For a split second there was a thought to just destroy all those bits that formed him, to erase all those memories she was given by Logan’s memory. The darkness on her skin was getting thick and sticky, soaking through her skin, to reach the inside of her, the main aim was the heart and she could say that without a second guess. 
“Maybe in another universe I’d give it all a chance. Your teachings and school, unfortunately in this, it’s all too far gone. Goodbye, Professor.” 
Everything went dark as soon as she finished speaking. The darkness was thick, filled with only a few specks of a blue light, she felt like she was underwater. Surrounded by the coldness from every possible side, with no idea where to swim to reach the surface. She couldn’t catch a breath, she’d drown. But… it all started fading as her chest was hurting more and more from holding her breath, soon even the specks of light disappearing from her eyesight. 
She woke up in the same armchair in which she was curled up for so long. The wave of pain immediately coursed through her body as she only wanted to stretch out a bit. Her mind filled with more and more voices, making her almost nauseous. Alice still forced herself to get up, the burning pain attacking her feet and then traveling up her legs. Hurts, hurts, hurts, need away.  Without thinking for long, she took the hoodie that way laying close by, not caring to who it belonged. She walked towards the door, bumping into a wall on her way out. Something was forcing her to get away from this flat, from the safety and comfort of the well known space. She got out into the street. There were barely any cars, as the day was only starting, the sky barely in a peachy shade of pink, and yet any sound was like a sharp arrow through her mind. The need to get away, as far as possible, is still there. It was unexplainable but she knew to follow it. From time to time involuntary whimper of pain leaving her lips. It was too much to contain, to carry with herself. 
At the same time, when she was trying to run away, Logan woke up due to Merry Puppins  scratching at the door and whining. She never did that. Still groggy from his sleep, he looked around, noticing the lack of Wade’s hoodie on the couch and the fact that Alice wasn’t there anymore. Her scent was still there, so it couldn’t have been long since she left. Quickly, he went back to the room and  started shaking Wade awake. 
“Come on. Wake up. She left the house. Wade, Alice left the house.” 
That was enough to pull the merc out of his slumber. 
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inkedwingss · 3 months ago
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Ugliness lurks in the darkness, dressed as a lady, with a mischievous look, ready to deceive you—perhaps, she doesn't even need to.
She dances in the graveyard of the good hearts, celebrating their departure from ''her'' world, but she doesn't know they are the blessed ones, not having to look at her ever again.
I see the smoke going up in the middle of the crowd. Another dead child. Ugliness dances in between enemies: she loves them all! Beauty for her is what is upside down— I guess we are calling good, evil, and evil, good, after all.
More tears and agendas than we can count: everyone swears they are the righteous ones; what is this truth they have found? So many causes and dead trees to mourn; all distractions, while they steal your soul. Goodbye again, paradise.
Ugliness delights in the void of your heart as you watch nations falling apart. She sits at the table with the governants, since both want to chew the people. But at the end of the day, people are just people, they all feel hungry and alone, and they all love and hate. They all can feel the pressure of ugliness, watching over them, just around the corner, destroying every trace of life wherever she puts her feet. They all want to live.
They also forget that when they wake up, she will be there again, all inviting, trying to lure them into the easy path. They forget that, in the blink of an eye, she can make her home in their hearts. And then, one by one, they are gone.
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Working on Blood Ties. Lawd help me, watching episodes to get correct dialogue is killing me.
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thevioletcaptain · 1 year ago
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if you as a fic reader ever become possessed by the urge to do a popularity bracket with the fics other people wrote and shared for fun and for free, consider:
don't ❤️ 
#just!!!! make a rec list!!!!!!!!!#popularity contests do nothing but drive writers out of fandoms by pitting people against their friends#and invariably result in people being assholes in the comments as if the people who wrote the fic can't see it#like ''oh clearly fic x is better than fic y''#or ''why is fic c even in this poll?''#nobody gains anything by you doing a bracket to see which fic is the ''most popular''#a stat which could be found more easily & less cruelly by simply hitting the sort by bookmarks/kudos button on ao3#anyway ugh. i saw that one of my fics was being pitted against one of my friend's fics in this bracket that's going around#and i have no idea who is ''winning'' because i refuse to look. but either way it's gonna feel bad!!!#because i want my friend to get his flowers so i want him to win!!! but i also would like to know that people like my fic!!!!#so it's just a lose/lose situation even though i generally don't give a shit about numbers#but this turns it into a schoolyard popularity thing#and the emotional response to having people *vote* on if your work is *better or worse* than other fic is hard to ignore#cannot reiterate enough JUST MAKE A REC LIST#or if you absolutely must do a bracket like this do it in a private chat server or something#don't create a public forum for people to pass value judgements where the authors can see it#and feel bad if they get told their fic is ''worse'' than someone elses#but also feel bad if they get told theirs is ''better'' because it came at the cost of telling another author they weren't good enough#ANYWAY i still feel sick with a super sore throat and a headache & am probably extra cranky because of it#(still testing negative thankfully so it's probably just weather/allergen related)#gonna go make some tea and prep the fic updates i want to post today#cass says things#fandom problems#wank adjacent
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crmsnmth · 3 months ago
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Headaches
Just take your hands off the wheel let your god figure you out Let nature play it's cards and let your chips fall where they lay It's too short to always be so serious Even if it is a tall order to laugh
Russian roulette for breakfast And some hot shots left for lunch Living recklessly, living dangerously it doesn't work for anyone Isn't that the point of this lifestyle? To live so fast we die?
Living without warning, without rules Natural selection getting a little help I used to want to be immortal and now I'm sometimes begging to prove my morality
I'll sit in your passenger seat if you promise to drive straight into a tree and I know we both have different destinations but you can just drop me anywhere
and I'll blindly walk the crosswalks
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fairydrowning · 2 years ago
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"I love this part of getting to know someone. How every new piece of information, every new expression, seems magical."
– The Sun Is Also a Star, Novel by "Nicola Yoon"
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the-holy-ghosted · 9 days ago
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Can't find the ask from somebody asking me if I've read either of John Lynch's books, but id like that person to know I have now read both Torn Water and Falling Out of Heaven. Suffice to say I'm not well
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