#writing mode

[farsight-the-char]

I have loved Humanity in ways you could never, Space Marine. I have a wife, and with her an adopted child. I have know family in ways you could never. I have drank and laughed and made love with my warrior comrades of the Gue'Vesa. I have known pleasures you could never. I have preformed Ta'lissera with humans, humanity flows in me in ways You have rejected. I maybe born of Tau, Marine, but I am more Human then you.

Fire Caste Commander Twin-Star to a Black Templar Castellan, speaking truth to draw the Marine away from a civilian area, baiting Templar into a challenge.

It Worked.

#tau empire #fire caste #warhammer #40k #writing mode #this I want to write in full later

[genxrocker]

#def leppard #vivian campbell #rick savage #writing mode #instagram

[lostextosquenadiequiereleer]

RENACER.

Terminé el ciclo de mi página de difusión hace más de dos años cuando me retiré, en ese entonces de forma momentánea, y hace más de un año de forma definitiva. Las verdaderas razones quizás no las llegue a revelar nunca de manera abierta. Quizás lo lleguen a saber quiénes lean el libro (cuando éste se publique) que en estos momentos aún escribo. Fue la única manera en que logré sacar de mi sistema esa etapa tan dolorosa para mi.

En este periodo de "descanso" pensé en todo lo que hice mal y qué pude haber hecho mejor. Pensé en lo mal que me hizo auto imponerme tantas reglas, pues eso hizo que mucha gente se aprovechará de mi buena voluntad. Me concentré en todo lo malo, que volví a deprimirme, me enfermé de muchas cosas y terminé en un quirófano deseando ya no despertar.

Cuando recobré la consciencia, las primeras palabras que escuché antes de que llegaran los médicos fueron: "No has terminado. Ya sabes qué hacer." (Sigo preguntándome de quién era esa voz que escuchaba en mi cabeza)

Después de los primeros días en el hospital, un par de canciones me ayudaron a comenzar mi proceso de sanación. A partir de ahí, comenzaron a aparecer todos los buenos momentos que he pasado en esos más de diez años de conciertos. Y pensé en todo lo que me dejaron esas experiencias: Una enseñanza impresionante.

En este periodo de descanso cambiaron muchas cosas en mí, pero hay otras que nunca cambiarán. Como mi amor eterno por la música.

Hace un par de meses re-conecté con esa sensación de maravillarme cuando conozco artistas nuevos, y de que prefiero estar en lugares pequeños e íntimos, a lugares en donde tanto artistas como público, le faltan al respetó a la música.

Re-conecté con esa sensación de ver artistas desconocidos con sus caritas de felicidad, casi al borde del llanto, porque el evento en dónde se presentaban, a pesar de no hacer mucho ruido, lograban tener "casa llena" con gente que nunca habían visto, pero que estaban ahí para prestarles sus oídos y conocer su Arte.

Re-conecté con la sensación de estar en dónde quieres estar, y no en dónde debes estar. de estar con amigos que valoran tu presencia, y no buscan sacar provecho de absolutamente nada.

Re-conecté con esa parte de mi que creí muerta. Pero no es que estuviera muerta, era simplemente que cumplía un ciclo, pero estaba lista para volver de las cenizas. Y ya concretamente, ¿A qué quiero llegar con todo lo que estoy diciendo? A decir con mucha ilusión que ¡Estoy de vuelta!

Estoy listo para volver a apoyar con todo mi amor a Artistas Indie que sueñan con llevar su Arte a nuevos rumbos. Vuelvo para apoyar de formas diferentes a las que acostumbraba. Pero siempre con el mismo respeto y admiración que el primer día.

Vuelvo y espero quedarme por muchos años más.

#writing #writerslife #writers on tumblr #onthewriting #writing mode #writing about music

[strugglinguist]

My “writing mode” is just straight up ADHD hyper focus. And I have to try to produce that effect for my work on a pretty regular basis, but that means I completely lose all social skills and awareness of the outside world… dance and stim… and write for hours without looking up. I just did that for 2.5 hours. I am now taking a break and drinking liquids 😂

#professional academic #writing mode #neurodivergent professor

[kxkyuu]

I has thots! lemme write something. Having mean Giyuu thots @kinjuutsu, @bakugosbratx, @tomiokas-lunchboxkas-l I'm coming for your souls!!

#kirei.talks♪ #writing mode

[take-care-with-your-glasses]

Man you know when you have to wake up because your mind is holding onto an idea and needs to write it?

Yep that's right. Happy sunday!

#writing mode #yaaay #the best way to spend the weekends

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

#writing mode #love her vocals though #autumn mood #angsty slow burn kinda love #Spotify

[mcdynamite]

When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.

Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?

Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.

It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.

He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.

The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?

Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.

The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.

It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season." 

He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.

The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.

What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.

Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.

Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.

Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.

He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-

"Eddie?"

Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?

Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.

Christ, this is going to be so bad.

So, so bad.

"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"

Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.

"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."

Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.

"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."

Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"

Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."

That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.

But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.

Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.

Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.

It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.

"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.

His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.

It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.

NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.

It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.

His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.

The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.

"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.

Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.

Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?

"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."

So much for plausible deniability.

He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.

"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."

The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.

"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.

"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."

Eddie freezes.

"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"

Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion. 

It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable? 

"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"

"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"

"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.

"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"

"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"

At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.

Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.

"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."

"You... I... What? Since when?"

"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."

Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"

Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way. 

"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.

Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles. 

If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be. 

"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."

"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.

"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.

Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.

If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."

A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes. 

And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.

"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."

Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.

"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."

Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.

"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"

Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.

So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.

He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.

"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."

There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.

It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.

Eddie wonders if maybe they were.

When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.

"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."

Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."

And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.

Eddie can't fucking wait.

He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.

Oh, God, he gets it.

Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.

He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.

Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...

And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.

Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."

Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.

"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."

Steve just smiles and kisses him again.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fluff #jock(ish) steve #pov eddie munson #gay eddie munson #sweetheart steve harrington #eddie is bad at flirting #eddie can't handle jock-mode steve being so hot #lighthearted #first kiss #eddie is pining hard #but its okay because so is steve #i wrote most of this at 3am #so its very silly #but also I love steve and eddie #and they're in love #and i love that for them #mcdynamite writes

[chaoswarfare]

dp x dc prompt #34

Everyone always says that having a good reaction time is a great thing in a town where ghosts attack daily. Nobody ever warned him that sometimes it’s a bad thing to punch first and ask questions later.

Danny gets startled by Bane while wandering around Gotham, and punts him four blocks into a brick wall. Danny scrambles to get gone before anyone notices, but unfortunately for him, Gotham has eyes everywhere. And one Red Robin cannot believe that a twink of a guy just sent one of their physically strongest rogues flying like it was nothing.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #crossover #dc universe #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #writing prompt #writing #batpham #tim drake #he cannot believe his eyes #he never expected death by twink to be what took bane out for an indefinite period of time #he broke at the very least most of his bones #there’s a new meta in the city and he’s got superman level strength #panic mode #batman’s about to go full lockdown #danny’s just trying to live his best half life #unfortunately for him #:) #that’s not going to happen #superman wants to know if this is another kryptonian or what #he’s definitely heard some concerning things from batman #the lost child senses are tingling #danny’s getting snatched lmao

[farsight-the-char]

I like how Darktide repeatedly states the areas your characters fight in were largely already abandoned by the Imperial Administration/Authorities, with no proper economic support, decades if not centuries, before the current conflicts.

The Imperium is a decaying corpse, just like it's "God Emperor".

#darktide #warhammer #40k #the Imperium of man #the emperor of man #writing mode

[sexhaver]

lmfao the person who proudly admitted to calling the cops on their "friends" for smoking weed is now doing the classic tumblr defense of "pick the single most aggressive piece of anon hate you received, paraphrase them as uncharitably as possible, and then act like everyone mad at you is mad at you for that hyperbolic reason". this one works really well because, as shown here, you don't actually need to have received or published the anon hate in question and can just participate in a process referred to by some as "making shit up"

#yes they write fanfic #screenshot is waterboarded to make it clear it's a screenshot and not part of your dash if you're using dark mode on the app

[lostextosquenadiequiereleer]

NO TE CONOZCO.

Hace tiempo tuve un sueño. De esos que despiertas y sientes el cuerpo adormilado, te sientes cansado y particularmente muy triste (desperté con las mejillas húmedas, de llorar bastante)

Sobre el sueño no hay mucho contexto, pues es de esos que sólo recuerdas escenas en específico. Como si pasaras fotografías en secuencia pero en borroso. Sólo recordaba 5 cosas: (las anoté para un ejercicio que hacía para una dinámica con una amiga)

- Una chica

- Una frase que es muy personal, y prefiero mantenerla privada.

- Una hoja con un corazón roto dibujado.

- Yo llorando caminando bajo la lluvia

- Mi mano manchada de tinta escribiendo "Juro que te voy a olvidar"

Ese sueño me dejó intranquilo por muchas semanas, pues me obsesioné en descubrir si significaba algo. Si yo conocía a esa chica, cómo se llamaba, dónde la había visto. Nunca logré recordar nada.

El fin de semana, yo estaba camino a un show para evitar pasar el día sólo en casa. Iba con la esperanza de que ese show lograra despejar mi mente de pequeñas cosas que me han estado pasando y que me lastiman. La música es la medicina que siempre me sana.

No logré disfrutar del acústico, pues sucedió algo rarísimo y todos en esa parte del Parque fueron testigos.

Llegué con una sonrisa viendo que algunos amigos estaban ahí. Los saludé a ellos y cuando me acercaba a saludar a la Artista, una chica que estaba detrás de ella corrió hacía mi y me brincó encima mientras se soltaba a llorar. Todos se sacaron de onda cuando me llamó "Tony" pues todos me llaman "Roy" Repetía muchas cosas que no logré entender pues estaba llorando incontrolablemente.

La artista quien estaba frente a mí, me hizo una seña como de "Qué onda" y yo le respondía "no tengo idea". Cuando la chica se calmó un poco, le dije que mejor habláramos en otro lado, pero que necesitaba que me diera un momento para despedirme. Me disculpé con mi querida Artista porque tenía que ir a ver qué pasaba con esta chica. (Le prometí contarle después qué había pasado, y ahora que ya lo sabe, temo que escriba una canción al respecto)

Nos fuimos a una cafetería y ahí comenzó a contarme un montón de cosas: Sus padres habían muerto, seguía peleada con su hermana desde "aquella vez", escapó de su pareja con la que sufrió maltrato muchos años, etc. Ahora vivía con su amiga con la que iba ese día, y que al parecer también "conozco"

Mientras pedía una segunda ronda de cervezas, ella sólo me miraba, y yo trataba de persuadirla un poco, aunque por dentro seguía preguntándome quién era.

Comenzó a hablar de momentos que pasamos juntos, los lugares a los que habíamos ido, me mostró un dije que según ella, yo le había regalado, etc. Para ese punto yo comenzaba a sentirme ansioso con tanta información y tuve que detenerla y decirle:

Escucha: Lamento todo lo que te ha pasado, y aunque suena muy lindo todo lo que me cuentas qué "vivimos" tengo que ser honesto: ¡No te conozco! Nunca he estado en esos lugares que mencionas, no tengo idea de por qué me llamas "Tony" ¡No soy esa persona!

¡Perdóname! –Me dijo mientras salía corriendo al baño con su amiga detrás de ella.

Tardaron un rato y no sabía si irme, o esperar. Y aunque no le veía sentido seguir dando vueltas al tema, me quedé. Su amiga regresó primero y comenzó a reclamarme cosas que ni al caso. Le respondí fuerte, pues con qué derecho me armaba lío por cosas que yo desconocía. Nos calmamos cuando vimos que ella volvía a la mesa.

Volteé hacia afuera intentando pensar en qué decirle a la chica para que pudiéramos irnos en paz.

Ella comenzó diciéndome que lamentaba lo que había sucedido, pero que no pudo contenerse cuando me vió. Que era evidente que yo le había cumplido la promesa de que la olvidaría y que trataría de vivir con eso. (Cuando dijo ésto último, me vino a la mente esa imagen de mis sueños, de mis manos manchadas de tinta. Fue ahí cuando le dí el beneficio de la duda)

Yo le dije que por más que traté no podía recordarla. Que debió haberme lastimado mucho para que yo le dijera eso.

Mientras pagaba la cuenta, lo último que le dije fue:

Es claro que aunque yo no te recuerdo, tú a mí sí. No sé que hayas hecho para que yo te olvidara y tampoco me interesa saberlo. Lo único que puedo hacer por el momento, es que intentemos conocernos de nuevo.

Ha pasado mucho tiempo desde que sucedió todo esto. Entonces ambos somos personas completamente diferentes. No intentes ser como eras antes. No insistas en que yo recuerde cosas y estaremos bien. Seamos amigos ¿Ok?

Ella estuvo de acuerdo. Nos pasamos nuestro contacto y me abrazo fuerte mientras me agradecía que la haya escuchado, pero...

¿Será que hice bien? ¿Será que en verdad conocí a esta persona? ¿Se puede realmente olvidar a alguien quién te lastimó mucho? Cuando llegué a casa, corrí a revisar mi bitácora de sueños, y lo que había ocurrido coincidía en muchas cosas con la historia que esta chica me contó.

He estado pensando, y comienza a darme miedo recordar cosas, o que se repita la historia, cualquiera que haya sido.

Serán noche difíciles...

#writing #writing mode #dreams #lost thoughts #writers on tumblr #writerslife

[hedgehog-moss]

Took the bus to the big city yesterday and it only stops near where I live in the early morning and late at night, so I left a bowl for Pandolf with enough food for his 2 meals of the day. He didn’t start eating because it was too early for breakfast and he’s punctilious about mealtimes, but I told him “Bon appétit” to Authorise The Kibble, then left. When I came home at night it was long past his normal dinner time yet I found the bowl half-full—he had eaten the breakfast portion but since he only got 1 bon appétit he didn’t dare to eat the rest for dinner. I don’t think if I had said it twice in a row he would have understood that one of them was a Bon Appétit voucher for his next meal unfortunately. But I’m always amazed by his scruples, he is the most principled animal I know. When he was a puppy he would try to stick his head in his bowl while I poured the food so I taught him to wait until he heard ‘bon appétit’ before going anywhere near it—and very quickly in his mind the words became an incantation that turns the contents of his bowl from a miasma of forbidden unthinkableness into edible food that belongs to him.

This is Pandolf waiting for me to cast the Legal Food spell:

#crawling along #i received an anon asking for more Pandolf updates for their little sister just as i was writing this Pandolf post! :) #he's very serious about his job when he's left alone to guard the house and especially at night #when i come home late at night he's very impressive. full guard dog mode with ferocious growling and barking at my car #in case i'm an intruder #then i get out of the car and i'm like hey!!! and pan goes from scary threatening cerberus to bouncy ball trying to nose-kiss my cheek #in a millisecond. he's like BEGONE THIEF CRIMINAL SCOUNDR—oh!!!! hi!!!!!!!! <3

[bluerosefox]

Supersons vs Ghost Gal (It started with Grandma's Kent Cookies)

Jon huffs as he tosses himself on his bed.

He didn't do it! He really didn't! At least not this time and yet he's in trouble for 'lying'!!!

Sure he liked to sneak pieces of whatever his grandmother would bake for dessert for the night, heck sometimes she sneakily let him, but he swears this time he didn't do it! And if he did he wouldn't had taken so many cookies! He may not be the sharpest but even he knew better than to take so many from the tray!

And yet no one believed him! His mom was so disappointed he wasn't 'owning up' to it that she banned dessert for him for like three days! He's totally innocent!

He frowned and began to wonder if it was Conner but remembered he was off world doing a reunion of YJ in space for the last few days.

But still someone had taken those cookies. And it wasn't him! Or grandpa, or his dad, he knew it wasn't his mom and his grandma loved feeding people over eating it for herself, it was her love language! And-

Jon's eyes widened and shot up when he realized something

Someone stole his grandma's cookies... without alerting him, the one with super-hearing!

And...

And no one believed he dint steal them or realized this either.

Oh... he... he needed help. And he knew just who might be able to help him.

-×-×-

FarmBoi2.0: Damian! I need your help!!!!!!ndjekeormekzndiekdkdprjwnaofnfl

TheHeir is typing....

-×-×-

Meanwhile, hidden not to far from the Kent's farm, hiding in a old tree house that had been built for a young Clark Kent, a girl roughly around Jon's age with white hair and glowing green eyes happily munched away on the cookies she had managed to snag for the night.

'I'll write a sorry note tomorrow. They smelt so freaking good and I haven't had chocolate chip cookies in ages' she thought as she stuffed another in her mouth.

#danny phantom dc #danny phantom #dani phantom #danielle fenton #danielle phantom #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #dpxdc #Danielle heart beat is very different as a human #so different the Supers think its a animal instead of human #thats how shes sneaking around #besides going in her ghost form #which has no heartbeat #so yeah #Jon pulls Damian into hunting down the thief #they go almost home alone levels of traps to catch her #danielle sees the attempts and goes gremlin mode not soon after #they become frienemies

[bamsara]

chapter progress update:

This is the final draft progress so far and I haven't even hit the Heket fight scene or aftermath of the original draft so it's looking to be the same length as the chapter where we rescued Leshy, which was around 18,356 words,,,which is egh because I try to keep it within a digestable reading length but I really dont want to cut this chapter in half

so apologies but I'm halfway?? done and it will take me a tad longer because I need to completely rewrite one scene sldkghlksdg. on the up-note though, aym and baal questline started

#writings #if i do not post a lot today its because im in writing mode

[enden-agolor]

my bf and i made a jesskas stardew valley au and we have been playing like crazy nonstop like it’s all i think about right now so here’s a bunch of doodles for it 😍

in the au jesse is the farmer who moves into town from the city and lukas replaces a character named penny, basically living her life (they both share interests in a few things and both have such kind, caring personalities so it fits trust me bro). for those who don’t know… penny’s life in game is kind of horrible. if you are familiar with the game, i’m sure you know what penny’s deal is and the dark reality she is living with her mother who happens to be an emotionally abusive alcoholic. so lukas deals with that, along side a few other things that kind of make his home life way worse (i’m so sorry lukas) but finds solace in the new farmer that he hadn’t met until about a whole year into jesse already living in beacon (pelican)town.

more art under cut

‼️warnings for implied emotional abuse involving a parental figure‼️⬇️

#i could probably go on forever about this au idk man #lukas will find so much happiness with jesse i promise #i cant talk about everything in the au here bc it does get much darker than what I already mentioned #who knows maybe i will write a fic about it #mcsm #jesskas #my art #mcsm jesse #mcsm lukas #minecraft story mode #mcsm fanart #mcsm petra #stardew valley #sdv au #cw emotional abuse