writing-is-tough

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Ellipsus, Obsidian and LibreOffice are all free and AI-less i think

guys if I can't write on google docs where tf fff fffff ff f do I write my works??

apparently its using ai? deleting inappropriate works?? idk?! but whats even safe anymore?? where do I write my works? Notebooks??

Yeah guys im gonna write my 400k word novel in my little sparkly diary from walmart like-?!*%# AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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Hi : )) I'm sure you have, like, thousands of asks in your inbox, but here's some dialogue prompts, feel free to choose as many or as few as you like! hero x villain mlm if you don't mind!

"strip. do it now or I do it for you."

"stop struggling -- I'm not going to hurt you, okay?"

"lie down on the bed, please".

"don't make me do this. please."

"are you crying? there's no need for that, pretty boy. It's just me."

"Are you crying? There's no need for that, pretty boy. It's just me."

The hero swallowed hard at the words, trying to will the tears down. It didn't especially work. The sight of the villain - golden, devastating, somewhere between a relief and a horror - only made him want to cry harder.

His hands flexed in the power inhibiting cuffs. "I thought you were the guards."

The villain's head tilted. "Did they hurt you? Is that why you're crying?"

"Thousands of people are dead," the hero said, in a broken sort of disbelief. "Thousands of people are dead because of me. They'll kill me for this."

"Nah," the villain said. He leaned against the cell door, folding his arms. "I won't let them do that."

"I'd deserve it."

"Losing control happens to the best of us."

"It doesn't happen to you."

"Well," the villain said, with the sunny smile. "I'm not the best of us, am I?"

Another wretched sob lodged in the hero's throat.

The villain sighed and nudged off the wall, crossing the small space. The hero twitched in his restraints, but without his powers there was little he could do about the villain's presence.

"Hey now," the villain said. He thumbed the tears away like they were something precious. "You're okay. So you accidentally killed a bunch of people - it's not the worst thing ever. There are a lot of people in the world! With over-population and all that jazz you probably did a net good. You have to think positively about these things."

"I murdered over a thousand people," the hero said, as if repeating it louder and slower might make the awfulness of it get through.

The villain shrugged.

"Yeah," they said. "By accident. It's more like involuntary manslaughter, you know. I'd do it on purpose, so you've got that going for you."

The hero wrenched his head away, jaw clenching. He closed his eyes. More tears rolled down his cheek.

The villain sighed again. "Ah, pretty boy," he said. "You break my heart, you really do."

"Why are you here?" the hero demanded. "Did you come to gloat or something?"

"We both know I came to make sure you were okay, but I can gloat if it would help you feel morally superior for a moment."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look like you're having a whale of a time, darling." The villain scrubbed his fingers up through the hero's hair next, just a little too much on the side of caring and tender. "Those inhibitors have gotta hurt like a bitch."

"It's fine."

"Your suffering won't bring them back."

There was nowhere for the hero to recoil to. Telling the villain he didn't deserve such attempts at comfort would do nothing to stop it either.

The villain tugged at his hair, hard enough to yank the hero's gaze back to him.

"Come on now," he said. "Stop crying. You'll awaken something in me. And I don't want to drag you through the mob all teary-eyed, it never looks good on camera."

"What?"

"You don't think I'm just leaving you here, do you?"

"I need to face the consequences of my actions."

"You're a god amongst men, pretty boy. We don't need to do shit."

"I want to face the consequences of my actions."

"The consequence is that you have to deal with me," the villain said, "after being all heroic and dumb enough to let them put a power inhibitor on you. And I don't care what your guilt wants you to do. So. Up you get. There we go, good boy."

The hero wobbled to his feet, if only because he knew the villain well enough that it was a case of standing himself or being forcibly moved. He glared.

The villain flashed him another sunny smile, slightly soft at the corners. His eyes were soft and dark too. Something to drown in blissfully.

"What if I lose control again?" the hero asked.

"Eh."

"This is serious. People are - they all - fuck."

"-Stop thinking about it," the villain said. "I'll figure it out. Just breathe. You're crying again, for god's sake."

The hero sniffed.

The villain drew him in, hugged him hard, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "It's just me," he said, in the hero's ear. "You know there's nothing you can do to hurt me. I've got you. You're fine."

It shouldn't have been reassuring, it wasn't remotely fine, yet it was. His monster always made everything he did seem manageable.

The villain pulled back, brushing the tears away again.

"Chin up, pretty boy," he said. "That's it. Now come with me."

The hero didn't know what else to do, so he followed.

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save me first-kiss date, save meeeeee 560 words, not proofread, first time writing anything like this, constructive criticism is welcome!

A pretty cloth laid on the ground, sweet fruits and drinks set out, small chirps and whispering leaves and two girls sitting too close to each other.

It started with them meeting in the village center, the avian wore a pretty and frilly terracotta colored dress, with black moccasins to match, her hair was short, white and red wings withdrawn behind her, holding a picnic basket in her hands, while the minotaur wore dark cargo pants, a white wife beater and soft red plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves, her shoes were simple green and white sneakers, she brought the blanket, drinks and a star gazer lily bouquet.

After the initial greetings, and Elaïa freaking out over the bouquet, and a not-so-quick hug, they moved towards the nearby forest, chatting about their day. "Huh, I don't really know this part of the woods.." -- Elaïa chirped, before looking down at Erica, which responded --"I know a place around here, just follow me, yeah?"--, the minotaur grazed her hand across the other's shoulders before backing off, without noticing the slight twitch in the avian's wings.

After a few more minutes walking they found themselves in a mossy clearing, surrounded by towering pine trees, at it's center the traces of an old bonfire, a peaceful symphony of the taiga echoed around them. Elaïa looked around in awe, her heightened senses finally coming to a rest, an adorable chirp slipping past her lips; Erica was still at her side, noted her, before moving forward and laying the blanket in a firm place. The avian caught up to her and settled the basket down, to then hug Erica with a smile, --"Thank you, 'Ca. I really like this spot!"-- the minotaur hugged her back after a moment, her face warming up already.

They settle down, and start to lay out the berries, sliced oranges and apples and the drinks. As they start to eat and chat, they move closer, maybe inconsciously at first, but at every other bite the space between them condenses, every sip a touch warmer, until they're sitting hip-to-hip, cheeks assuming a peachy tone, hands often bumping when reaching out for snacks.

Erica huffed a little, her heart beating out of her chest, she had to do something, anything. The both of them clearly ogling each other, then, out of nowhere, the minotaur holds a strawberry up to the avian's lips, who looked at her, flustered out of her mind, not knowing what to do, --"C'mon, eat up, 's the last one."--, Elaïa hesitantly bit on the small fruit, --"There you go."--, Erica spoke, thumb grazing her lips oh so softly, causing a hitch in her breath as the nervously chewed, gazing into the other's eyes.

As soon as she finally swallowed, she knew, she couldn't take it anymore, it wouldn't be the first time she wasted an opportunity, but.

She hastily closed the space and kissed Erica, lips melting together, hands coming up to touch each other's faces and bodies, as they got impossibly closer.

Their lips parted, their bodies didn't, they stayed just as close, fearing that moving a single muscle would wake them from this dream. One, two, three heartbeats later they were already kissing again, completely addicted to each other's taste.

Once they finally broke away, chests heaving, eyes still half closed, they started to comprehend what just happened. One more whisper joined the choir of leaves in the wind, --"So, what happens now?"--.

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"You should be sleep its late"

No I am imagining my characters in situations

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"i'm tired of seeing-" use your filters.

"but there was an icky ship-!" use your filters.

"i don't like that tag-" use your filters.

don't like what you're seeing? use. your. filters.

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i love OCs. like this is my emotional support dressup dolly that i beat the living shit out of

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Do y'all ever read a fic so good that it makes you want to elevate your own craft and also befriend the writer? It's almost like, "Hi! You write so well that you've inspired me to embark on a creative training arc. Also, can I yell about the character in your dms because you get it?"

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the worst thing about having ocs and being insane over them is that you need to make the content yourself. unless you kidnap your friends

[writing-is-tough]

Writing Prompt #3832

"You and your friends are in serious trouble. Do you understand that?" The mentor's voice was low and even, a startling departure from their usual chipper attitude.

"We were just trying to—"

"No, no. This is the part where you stop talking and you listen to me."

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Intro post to some of my OCs cuz I have some blorbos in my head and I need to tell you about them!!!(this will be updated as I define more of them)

Erica Meadows!

Big minotaur hybrid, im talking 1.82m tall mountain of muscle and chub, she appears to be in her 30s, even if she's actually 26 years old. Works as a farmhand in the village, also loves woodcarving. She's trans and lesbian!! A bit of an introvert but currently has the biggest crush on Elaïa.

Elaïa Morana!

Tall avian(barn owl) hybrid, 2.10m tall and skinny, she appears(and is) in her mid-twenties, she's a fashion journalist and really likes to read and write about fashion. She's a lesbian and is not scared to admit her crush on Erica.

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When you daydream about your story and it doesn’t magically write itself onto the page:

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non-writers will never understand the mental illness of writing an entire conversation in your head while doing dishes and then forgetting every word the second you open a blank doc

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Reading a story you wrote when you were 13 is something that makes you realise that there was always something weird and lonely about you. Mostly weird.

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man I've just realized I wrote an entire character that doesn't make sense in the world

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"yo Iris how do you come up with names?" ...*looks up from my computer while repeating random syllables*

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me when the plot won't plot like it should