cog_nomen: (rising to a challenge)
[personal profile] cog_nomen
First, I'd just like to say that I really wish I'd taken fewer than four prompts from Springkink. It's not that I'm having trouble writing, indeed, one of them has quite exploded. It's just that I'm having trouble writing for the subjects I picked for myself. I have no fewer than three Pirates of the Caribbean fics in the works, and a long way to go on three of the four prompts.

Second, other writers - Do you leave notes to yourself in your fics while you're writing them? I mean, not like 'person does x here' but rather 'why the hell am I writing this?' 'more porn'. Often, my fics contain notes in the middle like, 'what the hell is wrong with you?'. Anyway, I'm sure I'm fairly whacked in that reguard.

Lastly, Sample paragraphs!


Beckett allowed for a certain measure of affection in his day. Much of this was reserved for Mercer, of all things. It was still a distant sort of affection - like a hunter might reserve for a particularly skilled hound. Occasionally he even made mention of his pet assassin in the same sort of light, recounting his latest work as if it were only foxes hunted, rather than people dispatched for the fact that they were inconvenient.


-


It was small comfort, then, that Sparrow would likely be afloat in the middle of the ocean in a rowboat. Barely more than a rowboat - it had two sails. Barbossa had taken the pleasure of making Pintel paint ‘S.S. Overcompensation’ on the ships stern. Unfortunately, Jack had probably missed it, and therefore entirely spoiled the joke.


-


Instead of snapping to attention, or even seeming properly embarrassed, Irvine’s fingers slowly stilled and he let his eyes drift halfway open while he slowly exhaled. He didn’t even seem like he’d been caught at anything amiss - there wasn’t a hint of a child’s cookie jar remorse.


-


Auron realized he was staring. For a long moment, he couldn't remember what to do when one realized such things. He coughed sharply, wrenching his eyes away as Braska at last freed himself from the heavy layers, wearing only the light cotton pants that he kept beneath.




Apparently I suck at titles. I pray for inspiration as I'm writing - usually it doesn't come until I'm writing the last few words.

August 2023

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