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sviancontrast · 6 months

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Tengo miedo. No de algo terrorífico, sino de terminar el libro. Estos últimos días he estado escribiendo mucho en muy poco tiempo, y estoy a punto de llegar al final. Ya casi termino el capítulo final. Ya tengo pensado el epílogo. Y me da miedo porque no sé como voy a continuar. Lo tendré que editar, después trabajar en el formato, ¿y después? No lo sé, y me da miedo.

I'm afraid. Not of something that's actually terrifying, but about finishing the book. These last few days I've been writing a lot in very little time, and I'm about to reach the end. I'm about to finish the final chapter. I already have planned the epilogue. And I'm afraid because I don't know how to continue. I'll have to.edit it, then work on formatting , and then? I dunno, amd I'm afraid.

#writeblr #writing #writer suffering #writing struggles #que hago #what do I do #tengo miedo joder no sé qué hacer #I'm scared ffs I dunno what to do #por favor alguien ayudeme #someone please help me #writer help #consejos de escritura #progreso del libro #writing stuff

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just-french-me-up · 7 months

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this is a PSA for fic writers who haven't updated in a while :

there are fics out there I'm subscribed to that have gone double digit months without updating.

rest assured the moment those babies catapult an AO3 email my way i'm dropping from the face of the earth to sink my teeth into them

i'll wait, and so will your readers

#writing #writing nightmare #writeblr #writers #writer's problems #writing problems #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writers #this is a psa from me to me honestly #cause I have not abandoned my child #my brain is just suffering from my workload #mine

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geekord · 1 year

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Ah, it seems like I have found myself in the situation known as, "I know what I want to happen, but don't know how to open the chapter, allowing me to develop the ideas I have on my head :)"

#geekord writer #writer suffering

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stevieschrodinger · 1 month

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TW for Eddie getting hurt (but he's okay). And Human Trafficking.

Link to part Two

Steve leans against Carol's desk, "here are your messages, I fobbed off the Times interview - they're going to email you their questions instead." He's listening to Carol, but he's watching, frowning.

There's a man in his office.

"Lunch call with the Singapore office is on. Your suite for the gala is back from the dry cleaners, it's in your bathroom."

"Right, the gala," Steve answers absently. It's a corner office, lots of glass, so it's impossible to miss the man in his office. The man who is calmly, right now, looking at the framed photo Steve has of his parents. It's basically a prop, Steve never got on with them, but that is not the point. Some random guy is touching Steve's shit.

"And my nine thirty?"

"Had to move it, don't worry, they were fine about it."

"Right," Carol's leaning over the desk now, watching the man right along with Steve, "I assume that's why you had to cancel my nine thirty."

"Uh hu," she's tapping her nails on the top of the desk, and she's so fucking infuriating, if she wasn't so fucking good at her job Steve would have booted her years ago.

"You're going to make me ask aren't you??

Carol gives him a massive shit eating grin, "ask what, sir?"

"Jesus fucking christ," Steve sighs, "who is that in my office."

"Not sure," Carol shrugs, grinning because she's pleased she's being such a dick, "security brought him up," she leans over the desk, whispering like she's imparting a secret, "pretty sure they said something that sounded like FBI."

And then she sits down, tapping at her computer and painting her nails or doing whatever it is she does all day. Harassing mail boys, probably. God she's like a fucking shark, but that what Steve gets, he wanted a competent secretary, what he got was a fucking guard dog.

Steve's not complaining. He'd been weary of hiring a female Alpha and then shoving her behind a desk, but it turns out Carol is terrifyingly efficient and fucking fearless, so it's kind of a win win.

Steve stares at the man in his office for a second longer, trying to figure out what the fuck he's done. he wonders if he's somehow accidentally committed major tax fraud, or something. He's pretty sure he hasn't, but the panic spiral is sitting there, looking inviting, anyway.

Steve goes into his office, and the man turns. He's tall, well built, kind of portly with age, maybe, but Steve still wouldn't fuck with the guy. He's not wearing blockers of any sort, so Steve's office now smells of strange, uninvited, Alpha. Great.

"Jim Hopper," he says, extending his hand, "FBI."

"Steve Harrington," Steve replies, even though he's certain it's pointless, this guy knows exactly who he is.

The guy is already producing paperwork as Steve takes his seat on the other side of his desk, "standard non disclosure, Mr. Harrington."

Steve gives it a once over, he's signed enough of these, and been involved with the legal team enough, that he feels confident enough. He signs it, knowing he won't get any answers until he does.

"I'll get right to it, time is tight. I've been working to dismantle an Omega trade ring for nearly eighteen months now. We're almost ready to move, teams are in place, inks drying on the warrants, cells are all picked out."

Steve nods, okay. He knew Omega trade was a thing, a barbaric, highly illegal thing. Human trafficking of the worst form, he gestures for Hopper to continue.

"If we go in now, we will likely get a few of the higher ups, we'll rescue approximately two dozen Omega, it'll be a success." Steve goes to speak, wondering what the fuck this has to do with him, Hopper waves him down, "we've been here before; I've made this mistake once before. If we don't get the people at the top, this thing will grow back in a years time. I want them all."

Steve gets that. His head is spinning a little. He knows things like this go on, you see about it on the news, but it does sound a bit...like a spy movie.

Hopper puts a photograph on Steve's desk, "you know this man?"

And Steve does. They're not what Steve would call friends; more of a good tempered rivalry. And yeah, Steve had Daddy's money, but Tommy had his Daddy's company. They came up at the same time, went after the same deals. Move in the same circles, Steve's known him for years. Steve's disliked him for years, "you're not suggesting Tommy Hagan is...the head of some sort of, human slavery outfit?" Knowing how ruthless Tommy can be, how questionable his methods are...Steve's still struggling to see him as...this.

"I'm not suggesting it. I'm telling you as fact. You've known him a long time, and we have to move fast. The charity gala tonight, you'll both be there."

"Right, sure, but I don't exactly see what I can do about this."

"Hagan moves the...high end product. Very exclusive, very expensive. They keep them at a ranch, just out of state," and that's kind of uncomfortable, because Steve's been to the ranch for a business lunch, so he knows exactly the place Hopper is talking about. And, jesus, Steve had thought at the time Tommy had a lot of Omega staff. A lot of really well behaved Omega staff - at the time, Steve thought Tommy was just being his usual dick self. Just showing off wealth. Fuck, if some of those Omega were actually, like, prisoners- "drop a hint to Hagan, tonight. Tell him you're getting itchy, fancy yourself an Omega. A traditional one, timid. Say whatever you need to say, get yourself an invite out there."

Steve takes a deep breath, nodding. He can do that. He can play that; he might have to wear blockers, his opinion of Tommy is in the gutter on a good day, never-mind this.

"That's all you need?"

Hopper shifts forward in his chair, "look, you're ideal. On the periphery, you've known each other a long time, but not well. He knows exactly the kind of clout you have, your bank balance, you're the perfect person to do this."

It's not hard to find information on Steve Harrington, he's thirty first on the Forbes 100 list, but clearly Hopper, at the very least, has taken notice.

"How do you know I'm not already involved?"

Hopper snorts, "kid. We know. Also, you just asked me that question, and your balls ain't that brassy."

Steve can't deny it, he shrugs, "so, what else?"

"Get an invite. Go there wearing a wire. Meet Tommy, pick an Omega. You'll be trusted; we will fit a listening device. Hagan's wriggled out of this sort of thing before; evidence like that, there'll be no court in the country that won't convict him."

Steve feels awkward. He knows there's a device on him somewhere; Hopper had taken his phone for ten minutes, and brought it back with a different suit jacket for him to wear.

That had been at half five this morning, standing on Steve's back porch. And as he pulls into the ranch, he has the air con on full blast because fucking hell, he's sweaty when he's nervous.

Hopper had made this sound easy; the ranch is pretty safe. Only a couple of armed guards. Plus, he's Steve Harrington; you can't just disappear a guy like Steve.

Hopper had sounded so certain, the cherry of his cigarette bright in the pre dawn mist. He'd even slapped Steve's shoulder, told him he was saving lives. Steve had felt like a fucking super hero for about twenty minutes, until reality and fucking nerves had swamped him.

But here he is, walking up the front steps to the ranch house, Tommy Hagan grinning big, "hope you brought the black card," Tommy jokes as they bro hug.

Because that's not creepy.

Tommy had given Steve a smirk at the Gala last night, was confident he had exactly what Steve was looking for. Knew, for the right price, exactly what would scratch Steve's itch. Not like he was talking about real fucking human beings or anything.

Steve's real glad he went thick on the blockers; he's certain Tommy would be choking on the scent of his disgust by now.

They bring them in during lunch. Steve sitting, eating fucking cornbread and home made slaw and he just can't. He nibbles, feeling sick with nerves. Tommy doesn't even seem to notice. Steve can't help but stare at him, someone he's known most of his life and now...he's been revealed as something vile and subhuman. Steve has to work hard to keep the disgust off his face.

Something that gets even more difficult when the Omega are brought it and lined up, all wearing the same diaphanous nightdresses regardless of gender. Every single one of them could be a contender for the most beautiful thing Steve's ever seen. Every single one of them could be a model, or something.

They're lined up in height order; the last one in, the tallest, a male Omega. He's limping.

He's leaving bloody footprints on the fancy parquet flooring.

Tommy must catch Steve's face, "the unruly ones need to be disciplined, and that one is more...difficult than most. Refuses to learn. And we don't want to damage the product anywhere that'll be visible, obviously."

Steve has to breathe through his nose so he doesn't throw up. All the Omega are wearing blockers; probably because the scent of Omega distress would be so off putting.

Tommy waves a hand, "get him out of here, he's bleeding on the rug," and the Omega winces, as he turns. he's got lots of shiny dark curls. Everything about all the Omega is pristine, perfectly maintained hair, nails, flawless skin. The smear of blood on his ankle is even more stark for it, and Steve can't help but stare as the Omega gamely takes what looks like a very painful, shuffling step away again.

"Him," Steve says before he can stop himself, "I want him."

The Omega turns back, looking at Steve with huge, beautiful brown eyes. He's hopeful and fearful all at once, and it tears Steve up inside. He wants to buy all of them, get all of them out of here, but knows he can't. If he does anything to raise suspicion he could fuck the whole thing.

At least he has Hopper's word that the rest of them will be out of here by the end of today.

Tommy scoffs, "Steve, come on, have a proper look. Don't pick that one. Get a pretty one."

Steve wants to swear at Tommy because they're all fucking pretty, ridiculously so, "no, he'll do."

"Oh," Tommy laughs, "I get it, just gonna' wreck him anyway, right? That's fair, can always get another," and he's laughing again and suddenly Steve is dragged into a very detailed conversation about how to move funds - from where and to where, which Steve does. It's an amount of money that under any other circumstances would make Steve's eyes water - but in the face of a human being in pain, Steve doesn't even blink.

It doesn't feel like Steve takes a breath until he's on the interstate, the Omega curled up on the seat next to him. No possessions, no clothes, no bag.

Nothing.

And that had gutted Steve as much as anything else.

"Look, uh, hey, you have a name?"

"Eddie," the Omega answers quietly.

"Right. Eddie. So. This is...well it's going to sound a bit wild but...I'm kind of here for the FBI. I mean. I don't work for them, or anything, but...I was...asked, I guess, to get evidence. So don't worry about everyone else, they're getting rescued later so. That's. A thing, I guess?"

Eddie's just blinking at him.

"Yea. Yeah, I guess that's a lot to take in. But we can talk about it...later? Do you have family? Like, shit, do you have somewhere to go? I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to actually like...buy, a person. Couldn't leave you there though."

"I've...I've got an uncle. Haven't seen him for years. I don't...know."

"Right, right okay. We can talk to Hopper about it," Steve spots a drive through, "you hungry?"

Eddie turns and sees the McDonald's, "oh fuck me yes," he breathes with such vehemence that Steve laughs, "I haven't left the ranch for two years, and they never let us eat anything like that, it's bad for our skin. Plus, we have to stay thin and pretty."

That kills Steve's laughter stone dead.

Hopper rubs at his forehead, "you were not supposed to buy a human being."

"I know but-" Steve turns, Eddie standing behind him, which on it's own makes Steve wince. Eddie's barefoot on the asphalt, half hidden behind Steve, still wearing nothing but that scrap of white fabric. It's now a little smeared with the fry grease Eddie had shamelessly wiped off his fingers. Steve hands over his phone and the suite jacket.

Hopper waves him off, "you did good."

Hopper does something to the back of Steve's phone, peeling something away from it, before giving it back, "somewhere I can take you kid? Any family?"

"I only have an uncle, but I don't...it's been years, I haven't seen him since I was little."

Hopper rubs is hand over his face, the rasp of stubble loud, before he lights another cigarette, "I'll have to find you a motel somewhere while we figure this out."

"He can stay with me." Steve's volunteering before he can really think it though, "I've got...a lot of space," he trails off. He did just rescue this Omega after all, he's not just going to abandon him to be alone somewhere. Somewhere that might not even be safe for a lone Omega.

Hopper raises an eyebrow at Eddie, Eddie shrugs, "not like I've had any better offers lately."

Hopper snorts, but he hands over a business card, "this is highly unorthodox, but...I don't care. I've got bigger things to worry about. Text me any details the kid can give you on the uncle. I'll be in touch."

And then Hopper just...drives away. It's maybe an hour and a half drive back from here, since Steve had to go out of his way for this clandestine meeting in an abandoned car lot.

"So is there anything you...want? Need?"

Eddie seems to think about it for a second, plucking at his nightshirt, "I mean, I don't have any cash, obviously, and I heard how much money you shelled out- I mean, do you think you can comp me from the FBI? Man, you didn't even get a receipt for me."

Steve starts laughing first, then Eddie joins in.

At Eddie's request they get milkshakes on the way home.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ao3 writer #ficlet #ao3 author #pre getting together #pre steddie #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie munson #omega eddie munson because he's so pretty #long suffering hopper #jim hopper #fbi agent jim hopper

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zeroducks-2 · 9 months

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When I see Jason and Bruce acting like the stereotypical "prodigal son and gruff but loving father" (in canon!) my blood boils.

Jason died. Bruce did not avenge him, not even "playing by the rules", so not even by arresting the Joker. He didn't do JACK SHIT after his boy was murdered. And once Jason came back, Bruce slit his throat in order to save the life of the man who murdered him, and then left him to die in a burning building.

They should be unable to coexist in the same room let alone speak let alone have a "difficult but ultimately loving relationship". I hate you DC I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE

#the enormous injustice of what happened to Jason is hard to even process #he's one of the most mistreated mainstream characters I've ever seen (as in mistreated by the writers and directors)#this boy died and his family didn't lift a finger and suddenly he comes back and everything is his fault #it's his fault for dying it's his fault for being traumatized it's his fault for suffering it's his fault for being angry it's HIS FAULT #while Bruce keeps being heroic and stoic and in the right even if he slits a boy's neck in order to save his murderer's life #because how dare Jason demand love and demand justice and demand his pain to be seen and heard and acknowledged #aaarghbgvnhgrghenvvfkj I know this is nothing new but I'm hella stressed so this is going to be my emotional outlet for today apparently #bruce wayne #jason todd #my meta

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vi-visected · 1 year

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in my head after the events of camlann merlin returns to camelot and, still riddled with terrible guilt and grief, confesses to leon about everything that had happened and everything he had done, magic and all. and instead of outrage or betrayal or scorn or judgement (or even death, as he had briefly considered) leon shatters him with a deeply apologetic expression and a whispered “my friend… you must have been so afraid, and so tired.” and merlin collapses into heaving sobs against him and doesn’t get back up for a long time.

#bbc merlin #merlin #bbc leon #sir leon #sir leon the long suffering #i know arthur forgave him #in his own way #but i don’t want merlin to be forgiven #i want someone to tell him he had nothing to be sorry for #i want someone to be proud of him #‘you always looked so small then’ leon tells him several centuries later #‘i never could figure out what great burden could weigh you down so much’#‘destiny is one of the heaviest things i’ve ever felt’ merlin says #‘heavier than despair?’ leon asks him ‘heavier than grief?’#‘the only thing heavier’ merlin replies ‘was being left without purpose.’#merlin writers really said merry christmas!! your gift is trauma

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sviancontrast · 8 months

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Necesito ayuda tomando una decisión semi importante para mi historia.

En uno de los capítulos van a un mundo donde conocen a un personaje relacionado con el amor pero no sé si debería ser en un sentido positivo o negativo.

En ambos casos sabría qué hacer con la trama pero ambos darían distintos resultados que solo afectarían a la personalidad del personaje y sus motivos, pero no cambiaría la ruta de la historia.

Así que díganme, ¿con cuál me quedo?

I need help making a semi important decision for my story.

In one of the chapters they go to a world where they meet a character related to love but I dunno if it'll be positively or negatively.

I'd know how the plot would go in both cases but each would give different results for both the character's personality and their motives, but wouldn't change the whole story's direction.

So tell me, which one do I keep?

Plazo de 8 horas terminado, gana amor negativo. 8 hours deadline reached, negative love wins.

¡Gracias! Thank you! :)

¿Por qué siguen votando? Ya terminó, solo que no podía poner límite de 8 horas. Why are they still voting? It already finished, I just couldn't put an 8 hour limit.

💀

#writing problems #writeblr #writer suffering #writing struggles #writing question #writing asks #en serio no sé qué hacer voten porfa #I really dunno what to do vote please #comunicaré luego lo que hago #I'll say later what I'm doing #I will check in 6 hours and maybe by then I'm keeping whatever won #Miraré en 6 horas y tal vez ya me quede con lo que vaya ganando #progreso del libro #writing stuff

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blakbonnet · 1 month

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my queers in christ we must fight homogeneity in fandom; it's evil and the death of creativity and a brain killer, we do not want to be smooth uniform identical shiny rocks, reading the same characterisations over and over again, we do not want to reiterate the same takes or the same fics, we want the creepiest weirdos coming up with shit so fantastical that it becomes fantastic, that is the point of it all

#stop with the my take is THE take I'm begging you #stop with the calling beginners out on drawing shit not as close to as original as possible #stop with the calling out writers not writing their fics for you #characters become us when we see them because we see ourselves in our favourite characters #we are going to add us to things #and make them our own #and that's good!#🧎🏽‍♀️#fandom #stealing fox's tag #but #fandom is suffering #meow speaks

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thepursuitofunderstanding · 9 months

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Understanding someone's suffering is the best gift you can give another person. Understanding is love's other name. If you don't understand, you can't love.

Thich Nhat Hanh

#Thich Nhat Hanh #quotes #philosophy #wisdom #life #literature #writer #books #psychology #write #understanding #suffering #love #eastern philosophy #art #artist #idea #ideas

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effen-draws · 7 months

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OKAY it's going to take a while to get to the point with this one but-- de meta time. You see I realised just now that the skua which is referenced throughout the game is a y'know a skua. Like Great Skua skua, like Stercorarius Skua.

And ALRIGHT that might be my bilingual brain that's slow on the uptake (all my bird knowledge is in Danish so forgive me) because perception literally points it out:

BUT HEY. HEY. I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY OF YOU KNOW WHAT THE GREAT SKUA'S WHOLE DEAL IS BUT IT IS NOT NICE. SO LET ME TELL YOU A LITTLE ABOUT THEM BEFORE I GET INTO THE MEAT OF THIS META:

Skuas are a type of predatory bird that primarily lives off of stealing other marine bird's food. Basically they're very good at outmanouvering and bullying other birds until the unsuspecting gull or tern (for an example) drops the fish it had caught. But The Great Skua takes that a step further as the largest of its kind. Becuase it will straight up kill to rob another bird, while also consequently getting the other bird as a meal in the process. Like, killing gulls and puffins are just a regular part of its diet along with the theft.

AND IN CASE THIS ISN'T ALREADY OBVIOUS: THE GREAT SKUA IS AN INSANE BIRD TO HAVE AS A HERALDIC/SYMBOLIC BIRD.

But then I thought; well yes of course the first bird that the nations of Mundi would find as a proof of reality would be the Great Skua. Of course the colonisers would have their first proof of discovering "the New New World" be this bird. Of course the people who after seeing this skua, this living proof that there was more out there to exploit, would then go to other isolas to steal and kill to sustain themselves. Of course the people that established the Suzerain of Revachol, which was (to quote Joyce) "the greatest concentration of wealth mankind has ever seen", would be justified by a Great Skua.

Of course the future foundations of the capitalist world in Elysium would see a skua, the bird that lives of off kelptoparasitism, as their proof of a New New World and new new oppertunities.

And then it only makes sense that The Great Skua became the symbol of the discovery of Insulinde; Mundi's most "promising" steal.

#Was this the intention of the writers?#eh maybe #but I think it's a neat bit of analysis #also the fact that Harry breaks the Whirling's taxidermied skua #and says “fuck that bird” and all #that Harry (as a man that has suffered so much under capitalism) breaks the skua #something something analysis that I'm just going to leave in the tags #disco elysium #disco elysium meta #de #de meta #can't believe my bird knowledge came in handy

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