writingwarden

[writingwarden]

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

[writingwarden]

As a fellow creative, Damocles just... hits different.

For anyone who creates and shares art with people, whether that be through music, drawing, writing, etc, there's always a nagging thought:

What if this thing I'm working on now isn't as good as what came before? What if the spotlight has passed? What if I've already reached my peak and it's all downhill from here?

There's also the flip side of it: Who am I if I don't do this? When the lights go down, when the engagement is no more, what's left?

What's left of my legacy? What's left of me?

How long until everyone forgets me?

Have they already?

[writingwarden]

Uhhhh anyways, Hesh x Reader smut drabble from the drafts?

Anon said- “I just really want to top him.”

[Short and sweet, hand job after a long mission, right into it, implied top!reader.]

Hesh's fingers are digging into the flesh of your hips, hard enough to guarantee bruises tomorrow. His lips are attached to your throat, sucking dark red hickies into your skin that will be difficult to cover up with makeup. But neither of you can be bothered to care right now.

The utility closest is cramped with the both of you still in all of your gear, there was no chance that you would make it back to your apartment before you couldn't take it anymore. So when you had grabbed Hesh's arm and dragged him into the closest empty room, he went along willingly.

And while it's fun to let him think he's in control, you're too pent up from damn near a month of being outside the wall. Not exactly a lot of hookup spots in an active warzone.

So the whimper you get when your hand cups him through his pants is delicious, pressing the heel of your palm and massaging his hardening length.

"Fuckin' tease..." You mumble just as your hands unbuckle his belt and shove those stupid pants down enough to reveal his hardened cock. "Just couldn't wait til we got back, hm?"

Not giving him time to answer, you take him into your hand and set a quick pace. There will be time for actual fucking later, right now you just want to get back at him for all those fleeting touches and filthy words whispered in passing.

His hips buck forward and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to stop the pathetic noises from leaving his mouth. He looks so pretty like this.

And so sensitive too, all it takes for him to cum after a few quick minutes is running your thumb over the head of his dick. Now it's your turn to slap a harsh hand over his mouth, he can never stay quiet, can he?

[writingwarden]

I do believe this current WIP is the longest fic I've written yet!

I'm so excited to post it

[writingwarden]

First Fic of the year!

Wrote this at 02:00, but it's my baby.

[writingwarden]

Hey Y'all!

My Bestest broski in the world just posted his first fic!! Please give it a go!

@lamone-gerkin

[writingwarden]

*after a night out*

Gaz: ... are we going to talk about it?

Soap: I don't want to

Ghost: I didn't know that kind of drunk even existed

Gaz: Must be why he doesn't drink a lot...

Soap: A grown man being 'maternal' after a whole bottle of whisky... Were we adopted last night??

Ghost: No- NO-

Gaz, quietly: I don't want to be a Shadow...

[writingwarden]

Started my first actual art project in years, drawing all of my friends eyes.

And I have decided to do each of them in a different medium. So acrylic paint, oil paint, pastels, and color pencil.

Why am I doing this to myself?

[writingwarden]

Reblog to let your followers know that despite your current obsession your previous obsessions still exist and are simply lying dormant until they awaken and strike again

[writingwarden]

“Oh my god you’re a writer? Can I read your stuff?”

[writingwarden]

they’re not doomed by the narrative actually, they’re just using emotional torture as a kink thing

[writingwarden]

when you finish a fic that was everything you could of hoped for and you click on their user to see that they’ve written dozens of fics for that pairing

[writingwarden]

That satisfying feeling of changing a fic that was in waiting into a WIP.

[writingwarden]

That satisfying feeling of changing a fic that was in waiting into a WIP.

[writingwarden]

god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating tasks. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait

[writingwarden]

feral omega reader x task force 141

I've read a lot of Task Force 141 being assigned a group omega to force them to chill tf out as an all-alpha pack, BUT!-- imagine instead of taking one from a roster, Price just one day comes back from a mission with an omega he picked up from God knows where, cradling her like she's an injured cat.

The man's got tousled hair and a few scratches on his cheek from trying to wrench poor you out of a dangerous situation. Stuck under a fallen building or in an enemy prison cell, maybe--but that doesn't matter. You're coming home with him cause you've got nowhere else to go. And now you're essentially the feral wet cat adopted by these massive, powerful alphas. Cause omegas are supposed to be sweet and soft and tiny, and they just wanna protect you, but you're only tiny. And you've got a whole lot of teeth. It's both equally endearing and concerning.

Of course, the boys can handle you, though. And by handle, I mean, "Here, kitty, kitty. Please don't bite me this time. See, we're friends now!" At least that was how Soap put it, whereas Price and Ghost just sat in the same space with you until you learned that they were chill. Gaz made peace offerings with food. Soap was the last to enter your good graces.

Meanwhile Kate just tolerates you, since she doesn't know what the hell Price was thinking.

"You could've had anyone from the list, you know. A proper omega who knows how to cook and clean."

"Ah, but where's the fun in that? 'sides, she needed a home like the rest of us."

_

Bonus Thoughts:

Once you've calmed, you're still feisty--just feisty with everyone else but 141. Kate is somewhat of an extension. Not quite pack but trusted by your packmates. You eventually settle for glaring at her from across the room.

Heats? Yes. Sexual heats? Not quite. I imagine feral reader only ever being cuddly during her heats, at least at the start. But do with that what you will--it's one of the few times she initiates touch first. That, and when she's the possessive one--not the boys.

She's also definitely a bit of a kleptomaniac. She's already got one of Ghost's extra masks, Price's bandana, etc. from when they all gave her random stuff to get her used to their scents, but once she's gotten over fighting back, she wants more, more, more. Shirts and jackets start going missing. Even pillowcases. They catch on, of course, but nobody finds anything until Price opens his closet one day, and BAM--one messy hoard of a nest.

"You could've just asked."

Mildly disgruntled hissing.

[writingwarden]

Here, ppsst psst...

come get your Vessel Sickfic!