Do You Ever Just Start Writing And Then It's A Few Thousand Words Later, And You're Just Like, 'Where

Hello writer of most beloved snippets! Might I request a little something? I'd love to see Hero get injured by Supervillain and then have Villain go absolutely feral and just destroy Supervillain because that's their Hero and no one is allowed to touch them

Hello, friend! I am so glad you like what I put out there. I can definitely write this for you.

Please enjoy!

Warnings: physical violence, head injury, unconsciousness, blood

Villain's blood ran cold as they stumbled upon the fight. They had every intention of finding Hero and challenging them tonight. They did not think they would be challenging Supervillain instead.

They watched, consumed by rage, as Supervillain flung Hero like a rag doll into the wall. They watched, seeing red, as Hero crumpled to the ground and remained unmoving. And they watched, jaw clenched, as Supervillain flung the clearly unconscious Hero through the air once more.

Villain surged forward, catching Hero quickly. This was not ok. This was not acceptable. Hero lay limply in their arms, nose bleeding heavily. They had a cut along their eyebrow and a cut along their hairline. "Wake up," Villain urged, shaking Hero hard.

But Hero didn't wake.

"Oh, did I break the pathetic, little Hero?" Supervillain sneered as they came to stop just out of Villain's reach.

Villain was going to end them. "They're alive." Hero was theirs to beat. Theirs to hurt. Theirs to destroy. Not Supervillain's.

"Shame," Supervillain said as they stared down their nose at Hero. "I would have thought that last hit fractured their skull. No matter. I can finish them off now."

"Leave them alone," Villain growled as Supervillain walked towards them. Hero was theirs and theirs alone.

Supervillain stopped. "Why? I'm just putting a wounded animal out of its misery." Supervillain cocked their head. "Or would you like the honor?"

"You are not to touch a hair on their head, Supervillain." Villain laid Hero down gently.

"Or what?" Supervillain raised their hand once more.

Villain didn't hesitate. They charged, unleashing the power that they had hidden for so long. "They are mine to fight. Mine to hurt. Mine to destroy."

Supervillain's face paled. Villain had hidden so much power. "I didn't mean--"

But Villain didn't care. They were going to ensure that Supervillain never interfered again. The last thing they saw before the darkness enveloped everything around them was Supervillain's terror filled eyes. "I will destroy you. And then Hero will be all mine once more," Villain hissed into the gathering darkness.

“If you tell me, it’s an essay. If you show me, it’s a story.” — Barbara Greene

There's this interesting phenomenon where when you're a child, or some other vulnerable minority dependent on a job for shelter, you are actually under duress almost constantly. You can't say "I don't want to work today," you cannot say "I don't want to do the dishes, actually," you cannot choose not to participate. In a lot of cases, the punishment is explicit. Your parents might yell at you. Your boss might fire you. But in other cases, it's implicit. The mood will sour. You lose leeway. People get mad at you. And that creates a really shitty environment where you're constantly being coerced to do things!

And here's the kicker; you're not allowed to acknowledge that. You cannot acknowledge that you are being coerced, you cannot acknowledge that your free will is not being respected, because that's punished too. Your boss insists that you act excited. Your parents punish you for acting surly. You are forced to fake enthusiastic consent, constantly. It's a fucking nightmare. Your hand is being forced, you do not have the option to say "no," and if you ever, for a second, try to acknowledge that, everyone acts like you're the aggressor.

Someone out there needs your writing. Someone out there needs your writing. Someone out there needs your writing. Even if you don't think it's good enough. Even if you aren't satisfied with it yourself. Someone will love it. For someone, it will become a safe place to return to.

So for over a month and a half I’ve been told in my Creative writing MA class that my writing is too poetic and abstract to work in the form of a novel and that I need to simplify my meanings and sentences. I did as I was told and lost all interest in writing if I have to write in the same style that every other novelist does. Today I received this note from a classmate and didn’t realise how much I needed to hear it. Don’t change your art just because other people don’t get it. Don’t change your style to fit in with everyone else. It’s your story not theirs.

My, my...

365 days...

Sounds about right.

Starting... tomorrow.

YOU— YEAH YOU! DO THIS THING WITH ME!

THIS IS YOUR AGGRESSIVE SIGN TO CREAT EVERY DAY FOR ONE YEAR.

Okokokokok so the goal is essentially what I said above. Write/draw something every day for a year. I know that sounds like A LOT but even if you can spare 2 minutes in your day to quickly scrible something into your notes app that's perfect.

Why should you bother with this?

You will end up at 365 pieces by the end of the year

you will improve your skills

you are bound to find some gold

even if you miss 1/3 of the days you will still have 243 things!!!

helps you be more in tune with your feeling (especially if you treat it like a journal)

you can try out different styles in a judgement free zone

uhhhh you love me

you will learn how to be more creative

you will have content to post on your blog/publish/submit to contests

you will have something to keep you going/motivated

you won't be alone

AND LOTS OF OTHERS I DONT HAVE TIME FOR

So this is your sign to write with me

(don't worry about starting on the same day just start making stuff)

I will be posting the things I write on @rheas-poetry-motivation

JOIN ME 🫵

Tagging people for reach and cause i love my moots:

@mister-dirty-hands, @bamb1fawn, @outromoony, @themortalityofundyingstars, @garden-of-runar

@ancientpokemonrock, @ang3lic-t3ars, @justiceforplutoo, @albatris, @gayafaaryn

@lorelangdon, @imastoryteller, @chaoticcandle, @gildy-locks, @jamespotterbbg

@seekmemystar, @tequilaqueen, @picklerab23, @a-k-oblackhat, @leahnardo-da-veggie

Black!Fem!Venom!Reader

Y/N laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't get to sleep, so instead of doomscrolling for the nth time this week, she did what any bored 24 year old would do with a flashlight and comics on the brain. She decided to go solo and investigate the abandoned factory just outside of town.

She peeked over the railing just inside, shining the light at the bottom. She frowned. The ground was not close enough to jump. She pointed the light around, locating dilapidated stairs that led down into inky blackness. At the end of the stairs, Y/n fell, narrowly avoiding tetanus as she grabbed the unstable metal, yelping.

Somehow, in her flailing, she'd kicked the flashlight back into her hand after dropping it. After the shock of not being dead subsided, she pointed the light down. There, the ground looked up at her, almost mocking her with its proximity. She dropped to her feet, the tired stairs creaking, a mere jump away from escape.

Down a hallway glowed something green. Like a horror movie protagonist, she walked toward it. But she did so quietly, keeping the light trained on the darkness ahead. The glowing goo below lit up her walkway, letting her eyes see in the darkness. She turned off her flashlight, having watched too many plots where the flashlight died right when it was needed.

She went down the hallway, the green goo now behind her. A hole let the faint light of the moon in, bathing everything in a twilight blue.

In the corner of her eye, she saw movement, but kept moving, slowly pivoting around the room, flashlight at the ready.

A (black?) goop plopped onto the ground and made its way towards her. The moment she realized it was moving, she bolted, saving her screaming energy for running.

She jumped up to the stairs faster than she would've thought possible. Whipping around a corner, she slipped and dropped the flashlight. She reached for it, but had no time to dwell on the loss as the black goop was right behind her. She bolted up the stairs, hardly keeping her footing on the old stairs, willing them to get her to the top faster than the goop.

She dove through the hole in the wall she'd come in through, barely sparing a glance at the hole to see that the goop had stopped at the concrete.

She gulped in air, watching the goop, before heading home. Y/n would need to get another flashlight. Oh wait, her dad had bought her one when the blackout had happened, giving her a spare. And worst case, she kept her phone charged. She glanced back through the brush, but saw no unusual movement.

When she got back to her apartment, its dark, quiet atmosphere was comforting. She took a shower and noticed a scratch right under her boob. She cleaned it as thoroughly as she could in the shower. Once out, she got some rubbing alcohol, gritted her teeth, and stuck the cotton ball on the wound. Pain threw stars in her vision and she could swear she saw Orion. After about five seconds (which felt like an eternity) she soaked her cloth with warm water and patted the cut before drying and bandaging it.

She put on her pajamas and went to bed.

“A villain am I? When I demand loyalty from my minions I reward them with protection. My armies know I will provide for their widows. My workers are all well fed. The children will never know grown men chasing them away for being monsters. What has your king provided for your loyalty?”

a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town

academy

adventurer's guild

alchemist

apiary

apothecary

aquarium

armory

art gallery

bakery

bank

barber

barracks

bathhouse

blacksmith

boathouse

book store

bookbinder

botanical garden

brothel

butcher

carpenter

cartographer

casino

castle

cobbler

coffee shop

council chamber

court house

crypt for the noble family

dentist

distillery

docks

dovecot

dyer

embassy

farmer's market

fighting pit

fishmonger

fortune teller

gallows

gatehouse

general store

graveyard

greenhouses

guard post

guildhall

gymnasium

haberdashery

haunted house

hedge maze

herbalist

hospice

hospital

house for sale

inn

jail

jeweller

kindergarten

leatherworker

library

locksmith

mail courier

manor house

market

mayor's house

monastery

morgue

museum

music shop

observatory

orchard

orphanage

outhouse

paper maker

pawnshop

pet shop

potion shop

potter

printmaker

quest board

residence

restricted zone

sawmill

school

scribe

sewer entrance

sheriff's office

shrine

silversmith

spa

speakeasy

spice merchant

sports stadium

stables

street market

tailor

tannery

tavern

tax collector

tea house

temple

textile shop

theatre

thieves guild

thrift store

tinker's workshop

town crier post

town square

townhall

toy store

trinket shop

warehouse

watchtower

water mill

weaver

well

windmill

wishing well

wizard tower

Prompt (469)

The villain grabbed the hero’s hand, inspecting it.

“Let go of me!” the hero spat.

“Split knuckles?” the villain said. “My, my. Tell me what you’ve been up to. Is there anyone I need to make disappear?”