Reblog If You're Completely Okay With Me Asking Stuff About Your Wip In Your Inbox!

This is my first time participating in flash fiction friday but I had a lot of fun, thanks so much for the prompt! @flashfictionfridayofficial

Content Warning: suggestive content

Title: Slip | WC: 591

The moon is bright when Margaret's hand draws me into wakefulness.

Her cold fingertips press against my arm like piano keys- tap, tap, tapping a scale that brings goosebumps to the surface and bores her the second my skin grows used to the touch.

She smiles, a finger raised to her lips, and I remember that Margaret has the prettiest teeth I've ever seen. Pearly and straight and not at all afraid to bear down until I bruise. The memory blooms before my eyes as I watch her sway around the room, picking up her hairbrush, then a headband. The echo of her perfect press of lips will linger in the days to come like a love letter and ache in all the ways that I do when she's not around.

"It's late," I murmur, sparing a glance towards my alarm clock.

Margaret continues to dance like I hadn't said a thing and I continue to watch her, content to swallow down the sentiment.

What did late matter when Margaret was drawing closer with those eyes, leaning down to pluck the observation from behind my teeth like sweet oranges in the summertime? What was the hour compared to the way Margaret crept out of the room with my breath still caught in her lungs?

The floor creaks under my weight when I slip from the bed- a clumsy cat to Margaret's graceful creeping- and I follow her humming out of the bedroom.

Here, the moon peers in like a voyeur and bathes Margaret, elbow to hip, in her soft and hazy glow. Margaret's slip is practically sheer. Pathetically mesmerizing.

My pajamas are threadbare, but they cling to her echoing touch in all the right ways and I can't help but take a few steps forward, hand outstretched and hesitating half an inch before her hip.

"Marg," I say, then I stop. Swallow. "Margaret," I try again.

"That's my name," she whispers back.

My fingers catch in the hole against my own hip, instead.

Don't wear it out, I think. But I don't think a name like Margaret could ever be worn out when it's used for a girl like her.

"Margaret," I croon slowly.

She rolls her eyes with another, secretive, almost-smile, eyes glinting in the low light. I'm close enough to see the way the moon colors her eyelashes silver.

She waltzes into the kitchen and I get the feeling I'm supposed to wait, so I do. I pick up humming the tune Margaret had begun, drifting toward the window to play with the curtain hem, unable to put together a picture based on the sounds she's leaving behind.

I imagine the curtain is Margaret's slip, instead. They're almost the same color.

"Is this what you wanted, Beth?" Margaret calls out, voice cutting through the empty space between us like she's right beside me.

I drift forward toward the kitchen, smiling, still rubbing the sleep from my eye, and the expression wobbles like a figure skater on the ice- spinning, spinning, spinning.

The eggs are on the floor. The ones that she bought.

Margaret's coat is gone from the rack.

"I really tried, you know?"

Yolks spill slowly out of their fragile shells, bathed in a refrigerator halo, trembling under the weight of the front door- closed, firmly.

Unlocked.

Margaret's key is still hanging by the door.

Spinning...spinning...spinning...

Something wobbles, something burns, and I'm crouched down beside the eggs, my father's voice in my head and Margaret's perfume on my skin, already fading.

Don't wear it out, I think again.

Plotting is so much easier when you remember that editing exists; if it doesn’t go right the first time, you can fuck around later and make it better once you’ve got a clearer picture in your head of what you’re after

Your story probably isn’t gonna look even close to your plotting notes by the end of it, and that’s a good thing; it means your drafting worked

“Be curious about what you’re writing about” is not stock Common Writing Advice but it really, really should be. There are a lot of written works that fail due to the authors just being obviously incurious about what they are writing about.

MHA tweets pt.14

Meow

Original:

March 50k novel challenge update

Hi everyone! Now that there are a few more people joining, I wanna re-cast this poll to double check we're all on the same page! Original post with all the details is here, and if anyone seeing this is interested in joining you are more than welcome to! pls just leave a comment to lmk :)

Also! Now would be a good time to start thinking about how you typically spend the hours in your day so you can decide how to best incorporate writing time into your schedule in March (personally, im gonna have to spend a lot less time aimlessly scrolling and procrastinating schoolwork lol)

Options for the platform to coordinate this on are:

1- tumblr

2- discord

If you vote for #1 and want this challenge to use the tumblr communities feature pls leave a comment specifying your preference!

taglist for participants: @queengmine2crayon @bluedaelyn @caffinatedcastiel @spookylittlemegan @brightshaw-shipper @superabi1997 @lauravanarendonkbaugh @relentlesslycravingsummer @mayarii-darling

*shoot me a comment if you'd like to be added or dropped from the taglist

MHA tweets pt.7- top pro hero bake-off

Kamui Woods vs Mt. Lady vs Cementoss

Kats doodle

me as a writer

BkDk Inktober Day 1 (2023) - "Boyfriend Material" Nothing screams 'boyfriend material' to me quite like artistic/musical skill 🥁