#writblr Tumblr posts

  • She held the flower to the sky. A soft pink freshly picked peonie. 

    I could see the wonder in her eyes, set unblinking past the stars. 

    “I bet there are space flowers.”

    “space flowers…”

    “Yeah space flowers… a planet out there with giant flowers that can be seen from space, their petals stretched long, painted with intricate patterns and colors poking out from craters on moons, filling space with galactic smells”  

    She swung the peonie in front of the stars as she spoke. 

    “So are there space bees?”

    She mimicked an expression of exasperation, her fake hurt eyes sat opposite my smile as she thrust the peonie into my face.  A clarification on how space bees are not as likely as space flowers kept me rapt. 

    I laid in the grass heeding her words as they floated past the sky. 

    Her eyes were back on the stars with a burning desire to be clairvoyant admits a hopeful soliloquy. 

    A description of the native nebulous flowers that only grew near purple rivers on small moons made me believe she could actually see them from here.

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  • Done for @homesteadchronicles‘ Moodboard Monday of Strength, here’s a moodboard of a planned scene for Bride of Loki.

    It involves Siv being the absolute powerhouse she is and both Kari and Alpha One being equally infatuated with Siv fighting Alpha.

    Taglist: @piyawrites, @persephonescomplex, @shattered-starrs, @rhikasa

    #bride of loki #writeblr#writblr#wip
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  • I’ve made a mistake.

    There are two days before nanowrimo starts and I’ve decided to change my story. Instead of a completely new story I’m going to work on something I was outlining last year.

    Since I last worked on this project I’ve realised some pretty big issues with the plot and world.

    So basically what I’m saying is…

    I have two days, TWO DAYS, to work out what the hell im going to do to make this work

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  • “Relax, getting stabbed doesn’t even hurt that bad. It’s kinda like getting punched really hard.”

    When did you get stabbed?”

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  • Bacon prompt 183

    “Can I just read my book? Please!”

    “Nope. We got ish to do!”

    “What did you do?”

    “Its not what I did. It’s what we did.”

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  • The break is in there two different ways, so yay for that. This is the last of the single-word prompts (scenarios after this) and I think this gives that justice. There are three days left. I might miss Creatober despite the hassle it’s been.

    Warnings for a strong illusion to an abusive relationship. It’s not blatantly stated, but there are strong suggestions.


    Gem walks into her apartment, at 3:58 in the morning, and tries not to wake her boyfriend in the process. He’ll throw a fit if he sees her.

    She’s on the side of tipsy that allows her to know that the night was a mistake. Her clothes are rumpled and her hair no longer flows in pretty waves. There are some snarls in there, some frizz, and she’s avoiding seeing exactly how smudged her makeup has gotten.

    But she knows it’s gotten bad.

    Keep reading

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  • Spooktober 28: Clown

    “What are you, a clown?” (B) missed, pushing (A) away.

    (A) scowled, wiping away their tears.

    “At least I haven’t killed anyone!”

    (B) took out their knife, running towards (A).

    “Sorry our friendship had to end this way, (A)!” (B) sang, swiping at (A).

    (A) dodged, shrieking and running up the stairs, entering and slamming the door of the bathroom closed. (B) grinned, rushing up the stairs and giggling.

    “Why run up the stairs?! That’s such a bad movie trope, (A).” They said, knocking on the bathroom door. “I knoe you’re in there.”

    “Please don’t kill me!”

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  • Btw @writer friends of mine @sensitivityreaders is now a thing! I’m one of them too! It’s still growing but I have no doubt that within time it’ll be a full fledged database for your sensitivity reading needs! Go forth and learn!

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  • Writing Prompt 425

    (Villain) opened the suitcase, a smug look on their face.

    “Now you may have been expecting (Hero) to bring the cash. Unfortunately, they are broke and severely in debt to you lot. So as such, I’ve decided to be a touch generous and release them of their debt.”

    (Other Villain) frowned, glancing between the money and (Villain).

    “Why?” They tentatively asked.

    (Villain) smirked.

    “Why not?”

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  • Perhaps against their better judgement Bob and Alice were watching the news.

    The event presently being discussed was the disappearance (and presumed grisly fate) of someone they hadn’t met. This sort of thing happened with depressing regularity, and as was always the case when it occurred the news had acquired an old, blurry photograph of the victim to show the viewers.

    “Alice, we live in the future, don’t we?” Bob asked.

    “Last I checked,” said Alice, glancing at her watch just to be sure. It was still the future. A little bit more the future than last she’d checked, in fact.

    “Then how come the photos they use are always rubbish and grainy? And no matter when the photo was taken everyone in it appears to be wearing clothes from the nineties?” Bob asked.

    “Tradition,” Alice said without hesitation.

    “Oh,” said Bob. 

    Hard to argue with tradition.

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  • All three of them keep asking me what to wear. They seem very exited but also nervous. I am too, but mostly because I was not made for parties and my social battery has a very low capacity.

    I keep telling them that, in the end, it really doesn’t matter what they wear. But of cause, that doesn’t help. After Olli non-seriously suggested we could wear matching outfits, I offer to adorn their outfits with some ice crystals, like I’ll do with mine.

    “Won’t they melt?”, is Rob’s concern.

    “Not if I keep them cold. Which I can do, not forever, but long enough. If you stay in a close perimeter to me. Thirty meters or something like that.”

    “Honestly, I was planning on not leaving your side the whole night”, Olli laughs.

    In the end, Rob chooses a nice black suit, Olli a pastel turquoise one with colourful flowers embroidered on the jacket and Viv chooses a beautiful cobalt-blue dress. I decide on a pale blue suit, which matches the colour of my eyes.

    I already have some ideas for the ice decorations. Rob’s suit I simply cover in a shimmer, because I doubt, he would want anything too fancy. Since Olli’s suit already has embroidery, I try to accentuate those and recreate a far plainer version of them on his pants. Viv’s dress I decorate with intricate frost patterns. I decide on creating a moving, van-Gogh-like pattern for my suit.

    After showing it to them and perfecting a few details, I snap my fingers and the patterns vanish again. Olli looks a bit sad. “Sorry, but I won’t keep this up for the next three days.”

    “It’s okay, it’s just so beautiful”, he says quietly with a hint of awe in his voice. I blush a little.

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  • Yall the manic episode hit and I doubt I’ll be able to write fanfics rn? Give it a couple days/a week plz. :’D

    #bbc dracula#dracula netflix#writblr #i never told you what i do for a living #writers block#dracula
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  • flower side of tumblr, what flower(s) symbolize love in a subtle way?

    #flower#flowers#writing#writblr#symbolism #a character is gonna give someone flowers #and they don’t know they love each other yet lol
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  • Bacon prompt 182

    “Who’s ready for spooky season!!!”

    “Uh… what?”

    “Ya know halloween.”

    “Oh I don’t celebrate that holiday.”

    “You don’t? Oh.. do you celebrate any holidays in the fall?”

    “My family would celebrate thanksgiving.”

    “Okay! Are you excited to stuff your face next month?”

    “Heck yeah!”

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  • But why do I feel the URGE to write a children’s book and an adult novel for nanowrimo WITH THE SAME CENTRAL THEME??????? When will the madness stop?

    #Why can’t I just choose one #but I will write them BOTH #nanowrimo#writblr
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  • I often resisted
    the term
    because I felt
    but I still found
    the same few people
    always returned
    and soon
    they started to feel
    a lot like best friends.

    - G.L. Angelone

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  • Days turn to weeks, I hate to admit it but I’m getting use to this Hell. In the odd bit of free time I lay down in my prison bed. Blanket still wrapped around me, the bastards still haven’t thought of treating us right even with having to get a new secretary for the home office.

    “Yousef some of the guys are looking to try organise a campaign for better treatment. They are looking you to give the ok.” Says Harry charging into our cell, looking only Yousef guess the Marxist-Leninist are going it alone then.

    Yousef gets up saying “I’ll be down now in a minute.” He looks at me asking “Do you want to come along?”

    Harry coughs intervening “With respect comrade it is a Revolutionary Labour party meeting, no Solidarity Ultra’s allowed.”

    I lift up my hand to wave him off “Take the lead comrade, you know where we proper leftist are if you need help. Give my best to Jason at lock up.”

    Harry heads off not amused with my teasing at all and leaving as he leaves Yousef says “Don’t be mean to the guy he’s only the messenger. I’ll be glad to hear your pan-leftist solution when I come back.”

    I laugh sticking my thumb up, time to try get some sleep. There ain’t no rest for the wicked, a knock on the door I look up to see Will “What’s going on with the tankies.”

    I lay back down replying “Not that it’s any of my business but I think their doing some kind of campaign. Better treatment for prisoners, maybe they are trying like you Trots to become the screws instead of abolishing the system like us anarchist.”

    “Did Trotsky not call the police and by extension screws bourgeoisie class traitors of fascism.” Reasons Will lying against the cell door. Typical of the trots to come out with stuff like that as if they were quoting scripture.

    Keep reading

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  • Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 Part 1, Chapter 8 Part 2, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

    FYI: This story is also being posted under the same title on Wattpad. If you find that reading experience more comfortable, feel free to head over there.

    A teenage boy and his mother, living in the outer ring of town, were driving home along the cold, quiet streets of black tar and electric lamps, their radio pumping forth the weak radiance of cheerful pop music against the dread that perpetuated the midnight hours. As they rounded the corner for their street, one lamp flickered with a reddish orange from above, though was left unnoticed.

    “Whatever,” muttered the son, shadows licking at the beams of the headlights “I still don’t see why we had to stay so long”

    “It’s important to be polite, that’s why” stated his mother with a soothing tone, pulling up their driveway.

    “If you say so” blurted the son, bubbling with sarcasm as he eyed the front porch. “Does the porchlight look right to you”

    His mother shut off the car and glanced for the front door. “We’ll have to replace it” she informed calmly as she opened her door to remove herself.

    “Alright,” cheered the son, opening his door “I’ll go unlock the door, if you can handle the bags” as he rushed ahead.

    “Thank you, Sean” replied his mother, lovingly, moving to the rear of the car. Quietly popping the trunk with the key fob, she retrieved numerous bags of drinks and leftover food. He was a good kid, at times. Breathing audibly, she lugged the bags to the porch, where the door was closed, no Sean in sight. He probably went inside already.

    She jiggled the knob, and found it still locked. The orange light of the dying porch bulb waned lightly, casting flickering shadows across the yard.

    Keep reading

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