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#They're on the mind since I'm trying to write them for part of my NaNoWriMo projects
satari-raine ยท 6 months
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How about #16? And you can pick whichever ship you want!
#16: things you said with no space between us. ask meme here - still taking requests.
It's still unnerving, like an arrow aimed at his neck - having Milo's attention fully on him.
He breathes through a snarl that should be softer around its edges if not for the fact that it's him, and that Milo is bleeding, snow blue hair matching his own shade of red around Milo's temple - a careless tumble with gravity having been content to watching him fall. It would've been worse if not for Actagawa's quick thinking, but the fact that it's anything at all simmers Bisco's blood, this irascibility a burning underneath his collar. It's a minor enough wound that there's no stitches needed, only the antiseptic and bandages required buried under the curling of Bisco's fingers - just a "Sorry, can you get this, Bisco? We don't have a mirror so I can't see to do it myself" that Bisco had cut off with yanking the supplies to his own chest, silent only because Milo's answering smile - sheepish, pink around the cheeks with the blood that he hasn't lost - leaves him unable to say what he actually wants.
Instead, he has Milo in his lap, almost nose to nose, with the weight of his partner a match to the sudden lump lodged in his throat.
"Hold still," is all that comes out, gravel-rough, and Milo answers by disobeying him with an eager nod, pale fingers curling into the cuff of Bisco's sleeve, happily trailing along, happily attached, as Bisco dabs at the split skin. Milo doesn't wince; he's too strong for that, or perhaps Bisco is blind by being this close, even as he finds himself gentling the pressure when he imagines it's lingered for a second too long. Actagawa is scuttling about in the background, from the corner of his eye, watchful among the arid sands. The sun is setting. He wants this done before it's down.
"Bisco," Milo starts, saying it almost mindlessly (as if Bisco isn't aware of how mindful Milo is when it comes to him) and Bisco holds his breath as Milo's warms his cheek. He shifts back instinctively, finding Milo has already started to move in turn to find his eyes. There's a warmth there that looks out of place with the cockiness of Milo's grin. "Bisco."
His mouth twitches to match; he stomps it down, but finds it still slips out in his tone if the way the corners of Milo's eyes crinkle when he replies, "Am I supposed to know what you mean by just saying my damn name over and over?"
"You usually do."
At that, he does grin, his laugh a bite at Milo's bark.
"Moron," he states with certainty, curling the red-blue hair back behind Milo's ear from where it had slipped, fingertips brushing over the curve and trailing down to the lobe. "Duck your head back, I'm not done."
"Yes, sir," is all Milo ends with, voice a sing-song smoothness that Bisco wonders he used when he was treating patients back in Imihama. If - a big if, Bisco imagines - Pawoo ever got injured, beyond the rust, if Milo's voice served as a balm to her cracked pride.
The bandage isn't shoddy by his own standards but already, even without a precious mirror, Bisco watches with a barely contained frustration - a "really, doc?" ready on his lips - when they lean back from another and Milo instantly reaches up, not with the hand still curled in Bisco's sleeve, and pokes at the bandages. But then Milo's smiling, sparing no restraint in how often he's gracing Bisco with the sight, his hair catching on the setting sun as he tips his head back with a proud laugh, a short and quiet thing in the space between them, with all of who Milo is in this moment lighting every single one of Bisco's nerves on fire.
"Not bad, Bisco," he says and it sounds like he means it, and the two bloody rags draped over Bisco's knees makes Bisco wonder how tired Milo is now, finally dropping down from the adrenaline. There's a coolness quickly spreading over the desert, as the moon in his periphery begins to rise, so Bisco thinks nothing of it as his fingers drop down from curling Milo's hair back behind his ear - again - a slow glide of callouses against pale skin, fingertips resting at his neck, and Milo shivers.
He thinks nothing of himself when, for a moment, he pulls Milo forward, pressing his forehead to his partner's. His goggles push up into his hairline, crooked and threatening to fall back behind him into the sand, but Milo's hand is leaving his sleeve to curl around his fingers, a smooth warmth against the chill Bisco didn't realize he was carrying. He lets out a breath in a sigh and does everything in his power - and failing miserably - not to smile when Milo copies him.
With his eyes closed, without looking, he knows Milo's focused on him, that the man has settled himself in to staying like this for as long as Bisco allows it. He never had to teach Milo what somehow comes to him so innately - not archery, or cooking out in the wild with only the elements providing for them, or for having the damn decency to say no for once, come on, Milo; no, not this - the way his partner has let himself be so captivated by whatever he sees in Bisco that his focus leaves Bisco feeling stripped raw, as if there's no space between them.
He sighs again, brushing noses with Milo as he pulls back, opening his eyes to find Milo's right there, open, trained on him like a well-nocked arrow.
Just for that, with a grin, he raps his knuckles once, twice, against Milo's bandages and lets Milo's hiss of pain, pittering out to soft laughter as he tries to push Bisco back into the sand - tries and fails, "you're on me, y'know, you idiot" - chase away anything he could think to say in this moment, locked down, deep in his chest.
He'll let it burn there for a little while longer.
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silenzahra ยท 1 month
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Happy Easter, dear friends ๐Ÿฅฐ๐Ÿ’
Hope you're all having an amazing Sunday ๐Ÿฅฐโœจ
Holy Week has not been easy for me this year, and I wanted to personally thank @itsavee4117 @bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @peaches2217 @keakruiser @pepperycar @kelbreyworshipper @roscolate @supergay-64 and the Anon from this ask for all the love and support you've showed me in these hard days. You're all so kind and amazing ๐Ÿฅฐ You all live in my heart rent-free, just like Mario and Luigi ๐Ÿซ‚๐Ÿ’–
Some personal stuff under the cut, so it's totally fine if you don't wanna read it ๐Ÿฅฐ Happy Easter again and thank you so much! I love you! ๐Ÿซ‚๐Ÿ’–
Both family members that were sick at the beginning of the Holy Week, my auntie (and godmother) and my dad's uncle, are now resting and with God. On the one hand I feel happy that they're not suffering anymore, since they were both fighting cancer, and that they've reunited with their relatives (my auntie specifically had said many times she wanted to reunite with her parents, my grandparents, who passed in 2018).
On the other hand though... I still have a grieving process ahead of me. I've obviously cried for both of them, but you know, even if I did... I feel like I'm still at the start. Still in denial. And it's impossible to know when I'll move on to the next stage, but in the meantime, I really feel like I need to be back on here. Maybe not entirely, maybe not with the same frequency as before, but this site has become an important part of my life and I miss it here.
You all have become an important part of my life and I miss you, dear friends ๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–
I'm still not completely ready to fangirl again. I wanna properly enjoy your content as it deserves, so please excuse me if I don't go and catch up just yet. And if you've written something or plan to post a new story soon, rest assured that I'll read it when I'm feeling better. Again, to properly enjoy it. I'll be more than happy if you continue to tag me so I can go and easily find your stories once I'm ready. Hope you understand ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ’–
As for my own writing... Tomorrow's April 1st, which means the beginning of Camp NaNoWriMo, a writing challenge that encourages you to write daily by setting your own goals (it's different from NaNoWriMo, which takes place in November and encourages you to write 1667 words per day in order to write a 50k words novel during the month). I totally intended to participate so as to try and work on as many fics as possible during April.
But in the state I am right now, I'm afraid that's not gonna happen. My creativity is simply gone right now. I just don't feel like writing stories at the moment, and I truly miss it, but my mind simply won't cooperate. And I'm obviously not going to force anything. I don't know when I'll get back to writing, but it's not going to be this week, unfortunately. Sorry to keep you waiting for new content ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ’–
Also, I would like to fangirl over Princess Peach Showtime, as this game has truly meant my salvation during these hard days. I'm actually close to beat it, so, again, once I'm ready to fangirl, expect a post (or two) with my impressions ๐Ÿฅฐ Spoiler: I love it ๐Ÿคญ๐Ÿฉท
As for the following days, I think I'll try and go find some beautiful art to cheer me up, especially the brothers. I would like to thank Kea again for their lovely post full of wholesome gifs, for it's really helped me feel better. I would certainly LOVE to see more of these. Would anyone like to send me some more cute brotherly gifs to lift my spirits, please? Mario and Luigi always brighten my soul, so I would really appreciate it ๐Ÿซ‚๐Ÿ’–
Again, dear friends, thank you so much for being there for me. You're all incredible and kind and sweet and I love you so so much ๐Ÿฅฐ You can obviously count on me too whenever you're going through hard times. You've been there for me, so you bet I'm gonna be here for you ๐Ÿซ‚๐Ÿ’–
Hope I can slowly but surely catch up during next week. Love you all ๐Ÿซ‚๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–
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hvsomnes ยท 2 years
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HV's Writing Blog #1: Writer
My name is H.V. Somnes, and I'm a writer.
I read from someone online once that just writing stories makes you a writer, but publishing books actually makes you an author. I'm pretty sure that not only works in some kind of philosophical sense, but literally.
I've been writing ever since I was around... sixteen. I once got second place in a short story contest in my high school. Now, nearly ten years later, I've written a dozen short stories.
Written. Much like the second paragraph's guidelines, though I've written a bunch of stories, none of them have ever actually been published. That short story, brought upon by a writing prompt I saw here on the good ol' hellsite, was placed in an omnibus that I have since lost.
So why am I here? Well, as the title suggests, I want to write a book. A proper, actual book. One to publish and maybe have one or two people read. Maybe three people if you wanna get crazy.
I'm not gonna be facetious and act like I purely want to do this because I like writing, I'd personally love to become a professional author someday. To be able to sit down in a nice seaside house with royalties paying... at least half of my bills, maybe. It would be nice.
I do love writing though. Even if writing does not like me. As of late, I've become stricken with writer's block for this book that I've been working on for as long as I've been writing!
I started this concept for a sci-fi novel way back when I was a teenager. It started with characters, then I made a plot, then I revised the plot at 19, then I revised the plot at 22, and... I'm still here, years later. I'd tell you how many years but you NEVER ask an author their age, c'mon now.
Okay, okay, fine. I'm still in my 20s. But that's all you're gonna get.
This project, which henceforth shall be known as just THE BOOK- as in the one and only book I'm currently working on, has had a very flip-flopping development process since I started working on it. I've created entire plotlines and written them down, only to scrap it all later to revise the plot entirely.
THE BOOK even has a finished first draft, made last year (2021) that has since been promptly abandoned to start a new version of the book. I wrote THE BOOK's first draft was made for NaNoWriMo, and whether the second draft will share that is yet to be known.
As for the synopsis, it's a spacefaring, sci-fi adventure focusing on a group of superhuman freelancers, taking place in a universe where humans have colonized... every planet in the galaxy.
After the death of a (for lack of a better word) supervillain heavily involved in that group of humans' trauma, they're forced to figure out who they are after the source of their plight has finally been destroyed.
I'm trying not to be too spoilery about it. The death thing happens literally in the beginning, so that's not too much of a spoiler I don't think.
I hope that's enough to draw you in for more. I hope these dev blogs are enjoyable as well. I'm mostly just doing them to keep my mind on writing as much as I can.
I appreciate you if you're still reading this. I hope to make another one of these soon. I'll leave you with an art piece from the late Syd Mead- this is a part of his US Steel collection, and if you've seen my reblogs you'll know I love retro-futuristic looks.
Ciao!
THE BOOK Progress:
Words Written: 3,903
Pages Written: 10
% Written (Based on 50k Words): 7.81%
Art Down Below:
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kpoptrashlord-007 ยท 3 years
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hello!!! i was just curious to know if you were gonna finish your kinktober list? ofc it's okay if u do not!!!! i just wanted to know since i saw some fics that were upcoming that i was rlly excited for (such as the part two to the mafia baek)๐Ÿฅฐ no pressure, ily!!!!
Hello~
I am planning on finishing them!... I just don't know when ๐Ÿ˜… I've decided to do NaNoWriMo so I'm not sure when I'll get back to them but they're always on my mind haha. I even keep the document up so I can return to it when inspiration strikes.
I'm excited for part two of the Mafia!Baek fic too!! There's a few on the list that I want to read so I'm upset that they aren't writing themselves ๐Ÿ˜ญ why must we all rely on me to write them? It'll take forever, I'm such a slacker ๐Ÿ˜ญ I'll do my best not to disappoint us any further and try to work on them inbetween my NaNoWriMo goals!
Ily too sweetie! Hope you're well! Stay safe and healthy โ™ก
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