Writeblr - Blog Posts

Character: And by the way...you look ravishing.

Me: Stay the fuck away from her you creepy ass bitch.

Me:

Me: Oh, I wrote that.

Is there anyone else that when they get hit with inspiration act dramatically for no reason?

Like I recently got a story idea, and when I did I was looking up as the thought was formulating and then when it finished, I slammed my head forward really hard. Knocking my headphones to the floor, and then giving myself a mild headache from how hard I slammed it forward.

Helpppp

So I just finished the NaNoWriMo story I was doing for school yesterday, and then last night I thought of another fucking story.

Long story short, I've come up with the plot, 11 characters, their names, and their pasts, and I created a playlist for my MC.

I got my powers when I was 26, which is pretty average. These powers don't materialize until your brain is as developed as it going to get (which thank God for that. Imagine what it would be like with a bunch of kids running around with super powers!) Some people get dreams that inform them about their powers in some way, some people just know how to use their powers without any instructions. Other people, the ones I feel sorry for, get no instructions nor mysterious knowledge, and have to go with more of a Fuck Around and Find Out method, which doesn't always work.

Because of when the powers choose to materialize themselves, many people choose to hold off on picking their career until their powers materialize. I, however, did not.

My thinking was that these powers were supposed to match who you are or your personality or something along those lines. If that's the case, my powers should fit with my career of choice, no matter what it is. In a way, I suppose it does. Though sometimes, I still wonder if I should have gone into something in humanities.

I had just finished medical school and was on track to become a neurologist. I received my powers, introduced through a liquored up dream after a night of celebrating with my friends. In the dream, I was tied to a set of train tracks, alone, with a lone train car at the end, ready to run me over with the flip of a switch. Then, I was one of five people tied to a set of train tracks, with a line train car ready to run us all over, or run only one person over at the flip of a switch. Then, I was the one at the switch, trying to decide whether to kill the one, or kill the five after being in their places. I couldn't decide. I woke up in a cold sweat with the chilling words "is one life worth the cost of many? You cannot stop this train car" echoing in my head.

After that, I quickly changed my special interest from a neurologist to an emergency medical specialist, with many questions from those around me that I couldn't answer. I went through residency without incident.

I've now been a doctor for 6 years in EMS, still without incident. Every single person I've helped has lived, even those that maybe shouldn't have. Some of my coworkers seem to think I'm some sort of medical god, breathing life back into the dead and dying. Others just assume it's because of my powers, not that anyone knows what it is.

The only problem is, it's not because of my powers that everyone lives. I still haven't activated my powers. My powers won't be activated until I let one person die. I have no idea why everyone lives, and I wish there was just one person who wouldn't. Then I would at least be able to proceed with confidence that everyone will live, rather than this haunting uncertainty of when that one will show up. I've considered pulling the plug on a comatose patient who doesn't show signs of waking up. I've considered being just a little too hasty with a patient on the brink of death. But just like in the dream, I was never able to knowingly sacrifice someone.

Out of all the superpowers out there, you consider yours the most sadistic; you can save any number of innocent people from death in the face of danger, but to gain that ability, you must kill an innocent person. Named after the infamous moral thought experiment, you are… Trolley Man.

Sigh why is plot so hard 😔

For you're writing requests:

I had an idea months ago of adult bakudeku being very domestic and in love in the middle of summer just absolutely dying of heat in their shared livingroom but refusing to be apart because WAHHH BAKUGO WORKS SO MUCH IZUKU BARELY GETS TIME ALONE WITH HIM LIKE THIS HE REFUSES TO LET GO and then Ochako and Todoroki show up with smoothies and popsicle and everything is so cool now

Can use in any way you want if you want to at all. I just think they're neat.

Author's note: Hi! First of all thanks so much for the prompt!! It was definitely a cute one to write and I hope you enjoy what I came up with :) Second, brief warning for Bakugou's swearing

Katsuki released a long sigh, sweat pooling uncomfortably on his brow and the place where his back met the hardwood floor of his living room. The fan he and Deku had bought on clearance at the beginning of the summer sent a pathetic wave of hot air towards his body, barely strong enough to be noticeable. Deku’s warm breath near his ear was much louder and much more obnoxious. 

Katsuki rolled his eyes at the ceiling. His sweat was explosive for christ sake.  

“Deku, I swear to god-”

“No don’t do that,” Izuku interrupted, rolling slightly off of Katsuki’s chest, then compensating for the loss of physical contact with a leg thrown over Katsuki’s stomach. 

Katsuki angled his head down to frown at Deku- who was too busy trying to subtly tuck himself against Katsuki’s side to pay Katsuki’s expression much mind. 

There was a suspiciously forehead-shaped sweat stain just over his heart. Right where Deku had face planted the second he’d returned from his latest overtime shift an hour ago. 

It was a testament to how little they’d been able to see each other these past few weeks that Katsuki didn’t even complain at first. Sidekicks were worked to the bone for little pay and he and Deku had gone in on rent together knowing this. They’d confessed to each other one unsuspecting day in their third year of high school knowing this. Knowing that it wouldn’t be easy. 

They snuck handholds and short, firm, meaningful kisses behind the backs of their superiors whenever they crossed paths and they knew, now, how horrible it was to actually experience being apart. 

Somehow always on opposite shifts, Deku would traipse into the bathroom with his bedhead and bleary eyes, one hand on Katsuki’s arm or back or face at all times while Katsuki washed off the grime of the night-shift and Deku got ready for the morning and then Katsuki wouldn’t see him again until he was on the way out the door for his own shift. 

It was complete and utter bullshit, in Katsuki's opinion. But it was fine. 

Or, it would be fine, once they get enough experience to finally start their own agency together and got a little more control over their schedules. Or hell, any control over their schedules. 

It would be worth it when Katsuki got to kick ass with Deku on the streets and then come home with him, too. No more of this passing ships in the night bullshit. 

“You’re thinking something sweet,” Deku murmured, poking at the soft center of Katsuki’s cheek and then drawing a gentle line down the bridge of his nose. 

“No ‘m not,” Katsuki said. “Sweaty ass.”

Deku pinched Katsuki’s nose closed, then laughed when Katsuki elbowed him in mild retaliation. 

“You are too,” Deku insisted. “You’re making that face.” Katsuki scowled. “What face?”

Deku tapped the space between Katsuki’s eyebrows and Katsuki stared at the blue-green veins now taking up most of his field of vision.   

“The one where you don’t have any frown lines here. And your eyes go all soft. And the corners of your mouth start to do this wobbly thing that-”

“Alright, alright,” Katsuki complained, swatting Deku’s hand away from his face and its apparently numerous tells. “I get the point already shithead, now quit touching my sweat. It’s a fucking fire hazard.”

Deku shoved himself more insistently into Katsuki’s side, nose squishing flat where it was pressed against the top of Katsuki’s ribcage. 

“Not unless you detonate.”

Like this, Deku’s voice had a muffled, slightly nasally quality and Katsuki felt the corners of his lips wobble with the want to smile. It was sickening, really, the way Katsuki melted for Deku even while they were slowly being burned to a crisp in their shitty apartment.

“And who says I won’t?” Katsuki challenged. 

He couldn’t even tell how much of the sweat on his body was his own, right now, and he wouldn’t trade a second if it for the world.  

“Our insurance bills,” Deku replied dryly. 

Katsuki scoffed, dragging his knuckles gently across the divots in Deku’s spine.

“Those fuckers,” he said, licking a line across his teeth. “One of these days I’m gonna fucking kill ‘em.” 

Deku muffled a snicker in Katsuki’s tank top. “Kill…our insurance bills?”

Katsuki flicked Deku’s ear. “You heard me. I fucking hate those guys.”

“I’d help you hide their papery bodies, Kacchan.”

Katsuki bit down a laugh. Flicked his eyes down to Deku’s growing smile. Watched the shape of it for a while once he realized Deku’s eyes were serenely closed.  

“Obviously,” he said, brushing a stray curl off of Deku’s forehead.  

“Obviously,” Deku agreed, tightening his grip. Quieter, he said, “I missed you.”

With a drawn out groan, Katsuki pushed Deku onto his back and rolled on top of him, twining their legs together and plastering his own sweaty forehead onto Deku’s collarbones- which were jumping from Deku’s laughter and not entirely comfortable. Still, Katsuki didn’t move. 

“Stop making me feel things, asshat.”  

Deku pressed a kiss to the top of Katsuki’s head, still laughing. “Oh no,” he said, exaggerating the syllables. “The great and mighty Kacchan brought low by affection. How terrible.”

Katsuki reared his head up enough to nip at Deku’s cheek, a flush rising on his face. 

“Jerk.”

Deku cupped Katsuki’s cheeks and pressed an even gentler kiss to his nose. “Love you Kacchan,” he murmured. 

Katsuki swallowed and allowed his reddened face to be held in Deku’s large and clammy hands. God, he'd missed this.

“I lo-”

“Delivery!” Ochako sang out, slightly muffled from behind the front door of their apartment, followed by three loud knocks. 

Katsuki let his forehead fall unceremoniously onto Deku’s chest, where his grumbled complaints were muffled.

Deku pet soothingly through Katsuki’s hair. Then tried to be subtle about the way he wiped his hand on the rug a few feet to their right a moment later. 

“The knocking was just for show,” Ochako announced, voice much clearer as she pushed into their front door with the jangle of keys and the rustle of plastic bags Katsuki couldn’t be bothered to get up and investigate.

He kind of hoped it was another fan though, since she was already here. 

“Hello. Sorry for the intrusion,” Todoroki called out next. 

He kind of hoped Deku would put him out of his misery, actually. 

Deku patted Katsuki’s back in silent apology and Katsuki understood that he would not be throwing his friends out on their asses like they deserved. 

“Guys, we gave you that spare key for emergencies,” Deku reminded them from his spot on the floor, still trapped beneath Katsuki and his unwillingness to socialize with trespassers. 

“Ochako said this counted.” 

Katsuki could practically hear Todoroki’s apathetic shrug. 

“Right, but…” Deku started, slowly sitting upright and maneuvering Katsuki’s legs and arms around himself with absolutely no help from Katsuki. “Um, what’s the emergency?”

Katsuki tried not to feel too pleased when Deku lifted them both from the ground with ease, his hands locked securely underneath Katsuki’s thighs. Sidekick shifts were hell but damn if they weren’t also paying off. 

The rustling of plastic bags briefly paused. “You’re joking,” Ochako said. 

Deku settled them into one of the two barstools beside their kitchen counter and Katsuki kept his eyes and mouth stubbornly shut, even if he could tell by the slight decrease in temperature that Todoroki was sitting on the other one. 

“Uh, no?” Deku replied uncertainly, arms circling Katsuki’s torso like a beloved teddy bear. “Guys, is there actually something-?”

“Surprise!” Ochako shouted, dropping the seriousness from her tone and likely shoving something towards Deku’s face that Katsuki couldn’t be bothered to look at. “We came to save you from your badly insulated apartment!”

Then there was a loud pop and the vague sensation of something falling into Katsuki’s hair. 

“...was that a fucking confetti popper?” he muttered in Deku’s ear. 

Katsuki felt Deku nod against his temple. Fucker was probably smiling, too.  

“What the fuck,” Katsuki said. 

“Aw, that’s so nice of you!” Deku said, ignoring Katsuki’s confusion. 

Annoyed, Katsuki opened his eyes and used the edge of the counter to spin their chair around. “Oi, what-?”

Todoroki shoved two plastic cups towards Katsuki’s face, both of them varying shades of pink. Katsuki stared. The one on the left had a single piece of blue confetti stuck to the lid. 

“We brought smoothies,” Todoroki explained. 

“And popsicles!” Ochako added. 

Katsuki shifted his eyes to where she did, in fact, have a row of colorful popsicles lined up on the counter. 

Slowly, Katsuki accepted the smoothies. 

“Bribe successful,” Ochako whisper-cheered to Todoroki. 

Katsuki clicked his tongue, and took a sip of the smoothie with the confetti. “I fucking heard that Pink Cheeks.” Then he cringed slightly at the taste of tropical fruits and handed it to Deku. “This one’s definitely yours.”

Deku smiled, seemingly unbothered about being turned away from the conversation. “Thanks Kacchan.”

“Bribe successful,” Todoroki agreed, offering her a fist bump. 

“Fuck you both,” Katsuki said, narrowing his eyes over Deku’s shoulder while he drank from the strawberry banana smoothie that, on second glance, he could see had a sticker of a grenade on the far side. “I’m not so fucking easily swayed.”

Laughing, Deku squeezed Katsuki tighter with one hand and used the other to press his cold smoothie against the back of Katsuki’s neck. “Right.”

Katsuki hummed a pleased sound. Still, he said, “You’re damn right. Bastard. I'm un-bribe-able.”

Then Deku spun the chair back around to make cheerful small talk with their friends and Katsuki decided, just this once, that he wouldn’t confiscate their spare key. Not when Deku’s hand was scratching so gently up and down his side and Todoroki occasionally sent a spray of ice flurries over their heads. Even Ochako amused herself by balancing popsicles on Katsuki’s shoulders.  

And it wasn’t often that he and Deku got to spend their days like this. 

Katsuki tapped Deku three times on the hip. 

I love you, it meant.

REBLOG IF ITS OKAY TO TALK TO YOU.

Please.

Lately I'm having a lot of fun working on prompts and the mha first kiss gift exchange! Here's a bkdk snippet from one of the prompt responses (for context, it's set in the middle of summer)

“You’re thinking something sweet,” Deku murmured, poking at the soft center of Katsuki’s cheek and then drawing a gentle line down the bridge of his nose.  “No ‘m not,” Katsuki said. “Sweaty ass.” Deku pinched Katsuki’s nose closed, then laughed when Katsuki elbowed him in mild retaliation.  “You are too,” Deku insisted. “You’re making that face.” Katsuki scowled. “What face?” Deku tapped the space between Katsuki’s eyebrows and Katsuki stared at the blue-green veins now taking up most of his field of vision.    “The one where you don’t have any frown lines here. And your eyes go all soft. And the corners of your mouth start to do this wobbly thing that-” “Alright, alright,” Katsuki complained, swatting Deku’s hand away from his face and its apparently numerous tells. “I get the point already shithead, now quit touching my sweat. It’s a fucking fire hazard.” Deku shoved himself more insistently into Katsuki’s side, nose squishing flat where it was pressed against the top of Katsuki’s ribcage.  “Not unless you detonate.” Like this, Deku’s voice had a muffled, slightly nasally quality and Katsuki felt the corners of his lips wobble with the want to smile.

Ciao!

Io sono interessato a scorprire le amicizia italiani per parlare con mentre imparo la lingua! Il mio blog è in inglese ma io parlo di scrivere e l’anime (sopratutto my hero academia).

Mi mandi un messaggio se interessa o se hai una raccomanda italiana per i film/le serie, musica, o i libri :)

so excited to start working on requests!!

Chapter one of my new de-aged bakugou fic is posted on ao3 as of earlier today! Had it in my files as “katsuki self-love agenda” lol but the official title is frenemy is far too simple a word

Check it out if you’re interested!

Begging kindly asking for comments :)

I’m taking the gardener approach for this month and honestly it’s been a little strange to just type away with no clear idea of what my plot is but that also makes it kind of fun. If I start to get bored with things I can just take it in a totally new direction

As far as WC I am waaay behind the challenge but I’ve also had a lot going on lately so I’m not too upset about it. I’m still writing more for this WIP than I would have otherwise

Welcome to Wednesday, folks!

Today’s question: for your March WIP(s) are you taking more of an architect or a gardener approach?

An architect is someone who tends to plan their stories out before writing them, while a gardener usually focuses on cultivating their characters and letting a story grow from that

Also, now that we’re 12 days into this challenge how are you all feeling? Excited to keep working towards your WC goals or nervous about it? (And feel free to share your current word counts!)

All of the progress that you make this month are words that didn’t exist before so I hope you can feel proud of the time and energy you’ve put in so far!!

Happy writing :)

taglist: @queengmine2crayon @bluedaelyn @caffinatedcastiel @spookylittlemegan @brightshaw-shipper @superabi1997 @lauravanarendonkbaugh @relentlesslycravingsummer @mayarii-darling @laineydelainey @madisonofthesouth @theghostinthewardrobe @lobsterminator

For week 1 I was sitting around 903 words (cue internal crying lol) bc my week suddenly became much busier than I was expecting. However! My university is on spring break atm so I’m hoping to do some writing in the morning, every morning

I think the daily ritual will work well for me :)

So far I’ve bumped myself up to 1360

Congrats! You’ve all reached the end of the first week!!

How has the challenge been for you so far? Are your stories starting to take shape?

Drop your WC in the comments/reblog and share your thoughts!! We’re all in this together 💪

taglist: @queengmine2crayon @bluedaelyn @caffinatedcastiel @spookylittlemegan @brightshaw-shipper @superabi1997 @lauravanarendonkbaugh @relentlesslycravingsummer @mayarii-darling @laineydelainey @madisonofthesouth @theghostinthewardrobe @lobsterminator

Day 1 for the March 50k novel writing challenge I'm running on my sideblog (@bi-focal15):

Introduce yourself/your WIP/your writing goals/ your writing schedule and/or whatever else you please :)

Bonus: create a writing affirmation for the month!

Hi, I'm bi_focal! The WIP I'm focusing on for this challenge is actually based off of a writing prompt I did awhile ago (that you can see here) and most of my writing will be concentrated in the evenings

My affirmation is: It doesn't have to be good, it just has to exist

Writing requests are open!

From now through March you can send me an ask with a (sfw) prompt you'd like me to write! As long as I'm comfortable with it, I'll start working on my responses in April.

Prompts can be for fic or your own original idea and while I mostly write for MHA, if you have smth else in mind there's no harm in asking if I'm familiar with the fandom :)

also, if you're interested in any of the fic wips i've talked about on here (or my in-progress ao3 fics) you can send me an ask with the title and i'll be sure to set aside time to work on them and share snippets of my progress! (fic wips listed below the cut)

I'm excited to see your prompts!!

tumblr fic wips

short for grenade: talked about here, here, and here a la three wise men and a baby (i seriously need a better title for this series lmao): part 1 & part 2 probably not, dabihawks version: here (and the official, slightly more polished version of the platonic-ish bkdk 'probably not' piece is on ao3 here) let it sink in: here spelling bee monster: mentioned at the bottom of the fake tweet post, here trophy husband, who?: here cat-suki: here (legitimately forgot i'd posted about this one lol)

ao3 wips

summer daze: here little troubles: here

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

new mha fic! basically a very silly toga-is-adopted-by-the-Bakugou's one shot featuring squabbling six yr olds

called: how katsuki accidentally gained a sister and lost his 17th favorite all might shirt (<-link to ao3)

if you do check it out, id love a comment!

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.

I’m realizing that “when did you start writing” was meant as a more general question and not “when did you start writing this specific piece” lol

So! My revised answer would be in the 2nd/3rd grade for sure, if not slightly earlier than that. I remember learning about haiku’s in 2nd grade and absolutely going ham in my little butterfly notebook and in 3rd grade we all got to make and write our own books for a class project (and that inspired me to want to write more on my own)

There’s also an embarrassing video floating around one of my mom’s flash drives of me performing song lyrics I’d written from roughly that same age range as well

Author Ask Tag

thanks for the tag @sharkblizzardblogs (and @aalinaaaaaa, who tagged me with this game as well!)

What is the main lesson of your story?

I think there could be a few takeaways from Forest Fire but it's mainly about learning to let go of a romanticized image of the past and learning to face the things you've been running away from (a lesson for each main character, respectively).

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

The idea started when I was looking out at the scenery during a spontaneous road trip to California but none of the worldbuilding I did then actually ended up in the version of FF im working on now, lol. For the current version, Studio Ghibli is a big inspiration (especially a scene towards the end of the boy and the heron) as well as the song This Place Is a Shelter by Ólafur Arnalds.

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? So you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help them grow as a person?

Forest Fire is set in a dual POV, following two estranged brothers forced to grapple with a past they remember very differently, so-

Sylas just wants his older brother back and for his family to be the way he remembers it as a kid. He's desperate to bring his brother back home and keep him there.

Lincoln, on the other hand, doesn't want anything to do with the town he grew up in or the memories he can't escape there. He wants to be a responsible adult and return both Sylas and another young character (Peggy) to their respective homes and then get the hell outta dodge.

Through them, I'm trying to tell a coming-of-age story that teaches both of the characters to stop letting their past overshadow their present/future.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

Genuinely I have no idea, but hopefully at least 20?

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! No idea what to do with it after I finish but once I start the editing process (or if I particularly like any snippets from the first draft) I'll probably share them here on tumblr :)

When did you start writing?

Literally the end of last year, this is a very fresh project for me.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr?

I think my best advice is to not let the fear of the blank page overshadow your creative drive. Firsts drafts are meant to be of a lower quality than you want (or than you're capable of) because there are just so many elements to juggle at the same time while also learning how to best tell your story, so don't sweat the small stuff and give yourself the space to be curious and interested in what you're writing!

Take a breath. Take a stretch. And just write :)

gently tagging:

@peaceheather @moody-tortured-artist @mk-writes-stuff @agirlandherquill @antsday @sorrowsfallallaround @emilywrites185 @aether-wasteland-s @cee-grice and @blu3ha1redbrat

Short For Grenade update/excerpt !

every time i think im making solid progress with this fic, it keeps getting longer on me lol, so here's the most recent bit ive written:

“My, my, what a passionate statement,” Mitsuki pointed out, poking his knee. Katsuki frowned.   “I hate you,” he hissed.  “You are just chalk full of those feelings today, kid.”   Katsuki groaned loudly and extricated himself from his mother’s gentle grip, stomping up the stairs with a few curses tossed over his shoulder to avoid her less-gentle, bitch-ass cackling at his expense.  “C’mon Nade!” Katsuki called, grinning proudly to himself when he heard the sound of her nails scrabbling up the stairs behind himself. “Good girl,” he praised, waiting for her to trot into his room before he closed his door. 

Still in the living room, Masaru fell into Katsuki’s abandoned space on the couch, intertwining a hand with his wife.  “He didn’t slam it,” Masaru pointed out quietly, a wide, wobbly smile crawling over his face.  MItsuki eyed the staircase for a long moment before raising their clasped hands to place a kiss on her husband’s wedding band.  “Guess we’re not fucking this whole parenting thing up after all.” Masaru’s hair was greasy where it brushed against her neck, his body warm in all the places they were connected, and Mitsuki was…happy. She carefully stroked Masaru’s bangs away from his forehead while he began to sniffle on her shoulder, the sound of Katsuki’s raucous laughter echoing through the house, followed by the gleeful, yipping bark of Grenade the fucking dog.  Maybe…maybe they really weren’t fucking up, she thought to herself- maybe for the first time since they’d brought Katsuki back from the hospital, away from the watchful, knowing gazes of the doctors and nurses, and Mitsuki was left wondering just what the hell she was supposed to do with her baby now.  “You’re such a damn sap,” she murmured, tightening her grip on Masaru’s hand.  Masaru chuckled wetly, lifting his face to press a lingering kiss to Mitsuki’s temple. His eyes shone behind his glasses.  “Grenade,” he said wondrously, because neither of them could recall the last time Katsuki had stormed up to his room, angry, and not slammed the door.  And nothing else really needed to be said.   Mitsuki tipped her forehead against Masaru’s.  “Grenade,” she agreed in a whisper.

Your mystery question is here! :)

Moon: Does your character have a dark side? What makes their dark side come out?

Ooh, interesting. I'll answer this one for my character, Sylas, and the answer is...yes.

Sylas is young and desperate and hurting, and that sense of desperation leads him to justify certain actions which I think can count as him having a dark side.

In the very beginning of the story, Sylas finds his estranged brother's address after years of fruitless searching only to have his phone stolen by his childhood bully/frenemy and in a heat-of-the-moment type decision where he can either save her from danger or his phone (with the address pulled up) he chooses his phone and it takes him a while to even admit to the other characters that he left her behind and she needs to be rescued

Want an ask about your writing and characters? No problem! Reblog this post with an emoji for a corresponding mystery question in your inbox!

🎆 Fireworks

❄️ Snowflake

🌒 Moon

(accepting requests until January 31st, 2025)

Author Ask Tag

thanks for the tag @sharkblizzardblogs (and @aalinaaaaaa, who tagged me with this game as well!)

What is the main lesson of your story?

I think there could be a few takeaways from Forest Fire but it's mainly about learning to let go of a romanticized image of the past and learning to face the things you've been running away from (a lesson for each main character, respectively).

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

The idea started when I was looking out at the scenery during a spontaneous road trip to California but none of the worldbuilding I did then actually ended up in the version of FF im working on now, lol. For the current version, Studio Ghibli is a big inspiration (especially a scene towards the end of the boy and the heron) as well as the song This Place Is a Shelter by Ólafur Arnalds.

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? So you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help them grow as a person?

Forest Fire is set in a dual POV, following two estranged brothers forced to grapple with a past they remember very differently, so-

Sylas just wants his older brother back and for his family to be the way he remembers it as a kid. He's desperate to bring his brother back home and keep him there.

Lincoln, on the other hand, doesn't want anything to do with the town he grew up in or the memories he can't escape there. He wants to be a responsible adult and return both Sylas and another young character (Peggy) to their respective homes and then get the hell outta dodge.

Through them, I'm trying to tell a coming-of-age story that teaches both of the characters to stop letting their past overshadow their present/future.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

Genuinely I have no idea, but hopefully at least 20?

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! No idea what to do with it after I finish but once I start the editing process (or if I particularly like any snippets from the first draft) I'll probably share them here on tumblr :)

When did you start writing?

Literally the end of last year, this is a very fresh project for me.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr?

I think my best advice is to not let the fear of the blank page overshadow your creative drive. Firsts drafts are meant to be of a lower quality than you want (or than you're capable of) because there are just so many elements to juggle at the same time while also learning how to best tell your story, so don't sweat the small stuff and give yourself the space to be curious and interested in what you're writing!

Take a breath. Take a stretch. And just write :)

gently tagging:

@peaceheather @moody-tortured-artist @mk-writes-stuff @agirlandherquill @antsday @sorrowsfallallaround @emilywrites185 @aether-wasteland-s @cee-grice and @blu3ha1redbrat

Hi!

I voted for a discord server in the 50k novel challenge poll. I use discord a lot for various groups, both personal and community servers, so I wanted to offer to be an admin on the server to help with setting up and keeping everything running smoothly if Discord is what you choose to go ahead with.

I really love this idea and am looking forward to writing!

- Freyja

Thank you so much!

I’ll prob post the poll again at the end of Jan/beginning of Feb since there have been a few more interested ppl but so far discord is looking like the winner and I would def appreciate the help!!

For me, I try to replace words like said with something more specific, but only if the dialogue needs it. So like:

“I hate you,” he said.

can be a lot less effective in an argument scene than,

“I hate you!” he shouted.

So advice #1 is add specificity so you can paint the image that you want your readers to have. If I’m struggling to find the specific word I want to use I’ll sometimes try OneLook Thesaurus, but honestly sometimes the simple ones you think of first work best (he shouted vs he vociferated, yk?)

But sometimes you don’t even need the specificity in the dialogue tag to make the image clear, you can focus on description and leave the dialogue standing on its own, like:

Tommy gripped Clarence by the collar, his nostrils flaring.

“I hate you!”

As long as it’s clear who’s speaking, stand alone dialogue can be really effective and it’s smth I’ve had recommended to me before. So advice #2 would be to simply drop some of the said’s or ask’s that aren’t doing much for your dialogue. (But this doesn’t mean it’s automatically better to cut out all of them, especially if some of those tags do a lot of work for the pacing of your dialogue, it’s really up to your own judgement as the all-knowing author)

And advice #3 is just that writers notice the said’s and ask’s way more than a reader ever does, bc to a reader those words tend to become part of the landscape of what they’re reading and feel very natural but if you choose a synonym of said that feels really out of place, then they’ll definitely notice it

So overall I’d say don’t get too in your head about it :)

Having a lot of said’s and ask’s is totally normal, it’s really just up to you if you think they’re not doing enough work to paint the picture you want or if it might be punchier to have to dialogue be without tags! Might even be worth it to look at a piece of writing you really like to see that author’s balance of said/asked vs more specific tags vs no tags at all, especially to note which ones you, as a reader, like the most

Hope this helps and best of luck with your novel!!

I'm using said and asked way to many times in my writing. Where do you all get your synonyms from??

And don't tell me 'Google'

Hard for me to get an exact count but I'm around 4,000!

Some of that includes words that I wrote and then scrapped but its still nice to see that im making steady writing progress so far :)

Reblog/comment how many words you've written since the new year! I'm at 2263.

my other wips have been fighting me so i decided to return to this gem and it did not disappoint. i love being able to laugh while i write, lol

its also looking like this is gonna be a small series? (to be updated who knows when, but i'll create a taglist for it so lmk if you want to be added/dropped from that!)

part 1 is here

Taglist: @antsday :)

Katsuki contemplated the torn off receipt in his hand, slowly wrinkling the paper between his fingers and re-straightening it in even turns.

The ink was slightly faded- courtesy of an accidental encounter with his washing machine that nearly resulted in the machine’s death at Katsuki’s hands- but he could still clearly make out the string of numbers and the name Deku. The smiley face, however, had not survived. 

After twenty minutes of staring, setting it down, picking it back up again, and glancing consideringly towards his phone, Katsuki decided it was time to stop being such a fucking loser and call already.  

“I’m Katsuki fucking Bakugou,” he muttered to himself. “King of the jungle.”

“What jungle?” Kirishima asked with a snort. 

With a jolt, Katsuki spun on his heel, finding Kirishima sitting casually at his kitchen table, nursing a half-eaten bowl of cereal. 

“When the fuck did you get here?” Katsuki exclaimed. “I thought I fucking confiscated your key!”

Kirishima waved his- Katsuki’s- spoon around in a yes-and-no manner, crunching around another mouthful of cereal. 

Katsuki’s cereal, goddammit. And that shit was expensive. 

“You really think me and Denks didn’t make copies?” Kirishima finally replied.

Katsuki crossed his arms, scowling.

“Answer the other question,” he commanded darkly. 

Kirishima grinned without an ounce of shame. 

“Long enough to know that someone’s got a crush,” he replied, drawing out the last word like a fucking twelve-year old. 

Katsuki reached for the closest object- an apple, sitting nicely atop Katsuki’s fruit bowl- and lobbed it at Kirishima’s head. 

“Mercy!” Kirishima cried, laughing and ducking away from the projectile. 

“Fuck you!” Katsuki reached for a can of air freshener next, catching Kirishima in the shoulder with it. “Trespassers don’t fucking get mercy!”

“Bro,” Kirishima cried, crawling awkwardly under the table while Katsuki continued to throw things at him, bowl of cereal balanced in one hand while he dragged Katsuki’s chair legs around to create a half-hearted wall. “Can’t we just talk about our feelings like men?”

Katsuki practically growled in response, but the roll of paper towels in his grip lowered. 

“I feel like I need to change my locks,” he spat. 

“No!” Kirishima despaired. “But then how would I know my bro is having an emotional crisis?”

“I’m not!” Katsuki shot back, sticking out a foot to kick the chair in front of Kirishima, making sure that one of the legs rammed into his knee. 

Kirishima made a wounded noise at the attack, shuffling further under the table. Then he sniffed dramatically. 

“Bakubro, do you smell something burning?”

Katsuki turned suspiciously toward the oven, abandoning the paper towel roll on the countertop. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked, striding over to investigate. “You can’t leave a fucking hot oven unattended, dipshit.”

Katsuki pulled down the handle but found its contents cold and empty. 

“Oh wait,” Kirishima said in his most annoying voice, “it’s just your pants. ‘Cause you’re a lying liar. No emotional crisis, my ass.”

Katsuki slowly closed the oven but remained crouched in front of it, forehead falling against the door with an audible thunk of resignation.

This was just his life now. Trespassers and stolen food and schoolyard taunts he hadn't heard in over a decade.  

Fucking Kirishima.

“I don’t think your brain aged past thirteen,” Katsuki muttered scathingly. 

Kirishima loudly slurped at his cereal, unbothered. 

“So’re you gonna call this guy or not?”

Katsuki let his forehead begin to slide unpleasantly down the oven. 

“How the fuck do you even know about him?” Katsuki complained dismally. 

Katsuki could hear chairs being pushed away from the kitchen table and what was probably Kirishima’s empty bowl being tossed in the sink, but he didn’t bother to acknowledge the man until he had pried Katsuki’s head away from the oven door. 

“Denki glanced at the security tape,” he explained. “And then showed it to me and Jirou.”

Katsuki took a deep breath through his nose as he mulled over the new information, then collapsed unhappily onto his back in the middle of his kitchen. 

Kirishima dropped into a cross-legged seat beside him. “General consensus was that you had a flirty encounter,” he continued. “Oh, but Todoroki wasn’t convinced.”

Katsuki stared unblinkingly at his ceiling. 

“Fuck my life.”

“So’re you gonna call him?” Kirishima asked again, excited. 

“And say fucking what?” Katsuki bit out skeptically. “I’m cool, go out with me?”

Kirishima raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Well…he did give you his number, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, for the fucking bird.”

“Uh, what?”

Katsuki suddenly shot up, eyes wide. “The bird!”

Kirishima watched on in a mixture of confusion and concern as Katsuki quickly clambered to his feet and retrieved his phone and the scrap of paper he’d been obsessing over from the countertop. 

“I’m so lost,” Kirishima whispered. 

“Fucker’s a pet therapist,” Katsuki explained, somewhat manically, jabbing at his phone. 

“He’s a what?” Kirishima spluttered. 

“That’s my in,” Katsuki said, determined. 

“Wait. What happened to ‘I’m cool, go out with me’?”

Katsuki clicked his tongue and angrily flicked his hand at Kirishima. 

“Shut the fuck up, it’s ringing!”

felt, lol

i came across the phrase 'what we call writer's block is almost always ordinary fear' in a writing textbook once and it seriously changed how i approach writer's block though. usually im able to recognize my hesitation to write as a fear that whatever i write will inevitably turn out bad, so i focus on trying to shift my mindset so that i can get words on the page first and make them sound good later

when its a lack of inspiration though, it helps to read other things, watch shows/movies, listen to music, look at art, etc or even just write a poem or smth short and irrelevant to the project im trying to work on before going back to it

I feel like my writer’s block just comes and goes randomly and it’s really not helping me fight the urge to procrastinate lol

As promised, here's what I've got so far:

Summary: Lincoln was fourteen when he went crazy and got lost in the woods, fourteen when he was rescued from something he still refuses to talk about, and fourteen when he left his town behind without a second glance. It’s at 22, though, when Lincoln falls apart. Forced to bring Peggy, a young girl who can’t get in contact with her father, and Sylas, the little brother he never expected to see again, back to the town where everything went wrong, Lincoln will have to decide if it’s also the place where he can finally set things right or if the ghosts of the past will drag him down with them.

I feel like I was able to address more of the story elements in this summary, since Forest Fire is mainly about Lincoln reckoning with his past (out of necessity, rather than desire) while still leaving an air of mystery around the specifics of the story

I'm still figuring out how best to frame this, though, so any comments/advice/questions are more than welcome!!

in 2025 i'd like to write a full, first draft of my WIP Forest Fire (working title) and I think some external motivation would be a great push for me to keep engaging with my piece on a regular schedule! soo, what would you guys like to see me post by the end of january?

Hello writers and creatives!

I recently picked up Chris Baty's book, No Plot? No Problem! and have decided to make March the month in which I try to write a 50k novel! Anyone here interested in joining?

I have a few irl friends who are participating (some with modified challenges) but I wanted to offer it up on here as well. If you're interested, interact with this post in any way or send me an ask/DM! More info below the cut :)

(and a very important vote for those who'd like to participate)

So the whole premise of the challenge is that, in giving yourself a one-month deadline to crank out a full, 50k novel, your attention ends up being placed on quantity over quality, which helps drown out the internal critic that makes you hesitate when you write (or edit something twelve million times before moving on, or never start writing in the first place)

I highly recommend renting the book from your local library for more details on the thought process behind the challenge and other helpful tips (and if you have a library card but transportation difficulty, a friend of mine recently showed me the Libby app, which could be of help!)

I'm aiming for the full 50 thousand words, but my artist friend is adapting the challenge to dedicate a certain amount of hours towards making a comic, and my mom lowered the wc for herself because she's always wanted to write a short story (and doesn't have a ton of interest in writing a novel lol). So if 50k sounds too overwhelming for you or novels aren't exactly your thing, but something else is, feel free to go with whatever floats your boat!

I'm not sure how many people this will reach/ how many would want to play along, but community is a great way to keep each other motivated while also holding each other accountable, so what do you think would be the best method for coordinating that?

Option 1- through tumblr! i could organize writing sprints, word count/progress sharing posts, and some motivational things all under the same tag for easy find-ability (all with a tag-list so everyone is notified when these posts come out and so everyone on the list can interact with each other) Option 2- through discord! theoretically, i can figure out how to make one of these so that there can be a lot more freedom of chatting/sharing etc and writing sprints can be organized on there as well, with extra, optional channels for people to talk about the specifics of their projects or anything else you might want (but absolutely no pressure on the details-sharing front if that'll bring your inner critic back to life) Option 3- tumblr communities! i am not 100% sure how this function works, but if it's smth you guys are into or think would be good, i can absolutely make one Option 4- nuance/something else! if you have a suggestion for a better way to do this, i am all ears

poll duration is only a week, so if there's a lot of interest i will re-cast the poll again in the beginning of february

(and if you like one of the options but have suggestions for things you'd like to see or ways to best organize it, just lmk!)