#fear of writing

[fear-of-flyers]

holiday cards

my work for @buttercupjosh as a part of @antoineroussel winter fic exchange! enjoy kirsten <3

pairing: anthony beauvillier x fem!reader word count: 1.9k warnings: none that i'm aware of (ofc let me know if i need to add any)

Winter was by far your favorite season. It meant all of the things you loved: snow, warm drinks and spending all your free time cozied up with your best friends and family. It also meant that you got to spend all your free nights watching your favorite person in the world play hockey. You had been dating Anthony for almost 3 years and never tired of watching him live his dream. And it didn’t hurt that Anthony living his dream had led you to some of your favorite people in the world, most notably Sydney Esiason Martin. Since meeting her, Syd had become almost like your big sister. She knew firsthand what it was like dating a professional athlete but was also super funny and caring. The two of you connected on a deeper level and the connection had only increased when she had her and Matt’s daughters. You and Beau were one of the first choice babysitters and you were looking to Sydney’s advice for when you started your own family. For now though you were more than happy being an aunt and dog mom. 

Beau had surprised you with a chocolate lab for your second anniversary after months of talking about getting a dog. Her name was Amber, she was 2 and absolutely spoiled by Anthony. He went into it thinking the dog wouldn’t be on the furniture and now she had a permanent spot on the couch and in your bed. This was why you knew Beau would say yes when you asked to do a holiday card. You were at the Islanders game against Nashville during the beginning of December when Sydney was telling you about their annual Christmas card shoot and you knew you had to do it. Despite being virtually certain Anthony would say yes, you made sure to get everything you would need for the shoot before asking to increase the chances. You got matching PJs for you and Anthony and a bandana in the same pattern for Amber and used pinterest (and Syd) to figure out the general vibe you wanted for poses.

All that planning meant that when Anthony got home after practice the next Friday you were set to ambush him. At 1:15 a text from Beau let you know that he was on his way home and you set to work. You tied the bandana on Amber and laid the matching PJs out on your couch; on the side table you put out a container of Anthony’s favorite cookies and Amber’s favorite treats as bribes before sitting at the kitchen island to work while you waited. Not even 20 minutes later you heard a key in the door and Amber’s paws tapping across the hardwood as she ran to greet her favorite person. “Hey there Amber!” You heard Beau say, “How’s my most favorite girl? How was your day, huh?” You rolled your eyes at his words of choice, a small smile forming on your lips. “Most favorite girl?” You said, walking over to your boyfriend. “What does that make me?” Anthony laughed, closing the gap between you and pulling you into a soft kiss. “I have the two best girls in the world,” he said, “you’re both my most favorite.” You smiled against his lips, unable to help it. “Well,” you said. “Would you do us a favor then? Since you love us so much?”

Beau’s face immediately turned suspicious. “What kind of favor?” He asked, pulling his shoes off and placing them under the bench by your door. “A special one.” You replied, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the living room. “Did you notice Amber’s bandana?” You asked, turning back slightly to see Anthony’s response. “Yeah,” he said. “I liked it. Is it new?” You nodded to answer the question. “Yup! And it’s a good thing you like it!” You said, finally coming to a stop in front of the couch. “Cause we have PJs that match!!” You turned to him and were met with a look of confusion. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Is this it? This doesn’t seem like much of a favor.” You smiled a little, stepping closer to him. “Well, I thought that we could put on our matching PJs, then take a picture and putitonaholidaycardtosendtoeveryone.” 

“Woah there,” Beau said, raising his eyebrows. “We’re gonna do what? I just want to make sure I heard that right.” 

“Well, I was talking to Syd at the game Thursday night and she was talking about her family’s holiday cards. I thought it would be cute if we did one.” You said, looking up at Beau through your lashes, a move you knew he couldn’t say no to. “Just super close friends and family, I promise. Plus, they can’t make fun of you because it would be making fun of the other guys who do holiday cards; and no one’s making fun of Marty.” Beau sighed and pulled you into him and you knew you won. “Thank you!” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning up for a kiss. Beau indulged you and leaned down to meet your lips before asking when you were gonna take the pictures. “I was thinking tonight, if that’s okay with you.” You answered, your head not moving from its place in his neck. You felt him nod against you. “Perfect,” he said. “Just enough time for a nap.”

…

At Beau’s insistence you napped with him. And when you woke up about 30 minutes later you decided to shower and start prepping dinner while Anthony finished sleeping. Finally, about 45 minutes later you heard Anthony’s footsteps coming down the hallway and the telltale taps of Amber walking next to him. “Hi babe,” he said, arms wrapping gently around your waist. “Hi love” You responded, putting the knife you were using down and leaning back into his embrace. “How was your nap?” Beau rested his chin on the top of your head. “Good,” he said. “Turn around.” You complied, reluctantly moving yourself from his embrace. But you were glad you did because when you turned around you were met with Anthony in his brand new PJs. “Wow!” You said, smiling as you took him in. “You look wonderful! Let me finish chopping the zucchini then everything can go in the oven and I’ll change.” You said, moving to turn around and pick up the knife. But Anthony beat you to it, gently moving you out of the way. “Let me do it.” He said, pulling the cutting board closer. “You go ahead and change; we can take the photos as soon as you’re ready.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness and turned to go change. In the bedroom you put your PJs on before applying a little makeup and pulling your hair back into a bun. By the time you finished and made your  way back to the kitchen Anthony was setting the timer for your dinner. You stood, leaning against the doorway, until he noticed you. He finally did when he turned to leave the room, a smile taking over his face. “You look good, Y/n.” Beau said and you could tell that any hesitancy he had before was gone; the excitement was shining in his eyes. “Yeah?” You asked, grabbing his hand as soon as he was near enough. “Always.” He responded, kissing your cheek. “Amber’s on the couch and I’m ready when you are.” Instead of responding you pulled him gently in the direction of the living room. 

Once there you set up your phone on the TV stand and got started figuring out poses. You ended up sitting next to Beau, squeezed close; Amber was sitting on the floor in between the two of you, her head half on your leg. And it took you a couple of tries but eventually you got the shot. But to your surprise the picture you ended up going with wasn’t one of the few where you looked perfect. You had gone into the photoshoot looking for something idealistic and came out of the experience with your new favorite family photo. In the picture you chose Beau was petting Amber who was looking up happily at you as you laughed at something Beau had said. There was pure joy in each of your eyes, joy you could tell was real. As you scrolled through the photos to choose a couple more Anthony and Amber got back from their quick walk. “What are you smiling at like that?” Beau asked, unclipping Amber’s leash and slipping his shoes off. “Come look!” You said, turning your phone slightly towards him as an invitation. “I picked the main photo for our cards.” As he started towards you the timer on the oven went off so you got up, handing him your phone on the way to the kitchen. And as he swiped through the photos you took your zucchini and chicken out of the oven and turned off the rice cooker before grabbing plates and setting your places at the island.

By the time you were finished serving dinner Beau had made his way into the kitchen and put out food for Amber. He got the both of you water before finally sitting down to eat. You ate in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before asking the question you had been sitting on since you gave him your phone. “What’d you think of the pictures?” You asked, turning slightly to face Beau. “They were really great Y/n.” He said, pulling your hand out of your lap and squeezing it. “I had a lot more fun with it than I thought I would. Thank you for setting it all up.” You smiled at him, tension leaving your body. “I’m so happy about it. I can’t wait to make the cards and send them out. I love all the pictures but especially the fourth one, we look so happy.” At that Beau fully stood up and pulled you into a hug; “We are so happy.”

[bonus]

About a week later the cards came in and you spent an afternoon addressing, stamping, and stuffing envelopes. When that was all finished you walked with Amber to the post office and sent the cards off. A couple of days after that Anthony walked into the locker room and all heads turned to him. He didn’t quite know what was happening so he opted to go right to his locker and start getting dressed but when the staring didn’t let up he scooted a little closer to Mat. “Alright, what happened?” He asked, wanting anyone to say anything. “The cards bro.” Mat responded. “I’m pretty sure most of us got them yesterday.” Anthony nodded in realization, “Oh,” he said. “Were they bad or something?” He asked, now addressing the room at large. “No, just strange,” Oliver spoke up. “Not that it’s a bad strange.” Anders interjected, wanting to reassure Beau. “Yeah, it’s sweet kid.” Marty chimed in, a smile on his face. “Syd was saying that Y/n was talking about doing a card but didn’t know if you’d be down. It’s really nice to see that you did it; plus you look so happy.” Beau felt the smile taking over his face and the blush covering his cheeks, “I wasn’t super excited about it but I wasn’t gonna say no, and we are really happy. I would do anything for her.”

[hihereami]

Fear of writing

And there's a sort of panic in my subconscious (...) I've had the impression that I've done something criminal (...) And the implied command is this ''Stop everything! Take it back! Burn your papers!''

When I'm working, that vigilance stops and I'm able to do what I have to do [ and write ].

[iloveyou-writers]

hi, okay, this is posting a lot of courage to post this not anonymously because its probably a really stupid question with an obvious answer but i feel like this is the way i should ask this. i have all these ideas that i want to do something about, but i think, im scared of writing. or more like i don't really know how to do something? i have this fear of not doing thins the PROPER way even if i don't know the proper way or if there's no proper way at all. which stops me from writing and i just cant force myself into it because it makes me feel worse. i don't know. i feel like i need someone to tell me exactly how to write step by step and this is something i need to overcome and i was wondering if either of you or the followers have ever been through something like this? im sorry if this is a stupid question that takes up your time

Noooo shh with that self-deprecating comment. No question is stupid! Please don't say that.

Okay, so here's my thoughts on this.

#1 - absolutely. There have been some certain WIPs where I've just walked away from ideas because I didn't think it'd register right (mainly comedies, as I mentioned before, I don't have self-confidence that my comedy translates on the screen).

#2 - it is 100% valid to be scared/nervous about writing something new or unfamiliar.

One way I'd suggest combating this would be to do research on whatever topic you're writing about. Knowing more about it might help you with writing more confidently. I'm pretty convinced that's one reason people always scream "write what you know." And that doesn't necessarily mean write what you've been through, but it also means research what you haven't, especially with touchy topics like mental illness, trauma, loss, etc.

Another way I'd suggest combating this would be to write while blasting music you love and helps you to hyperfocus on something. I have specific music that I'll listen to in order to hype myself up to write when I'm unable to focus or worrying or whatever other things are preventing the words from flowing easily. It makes it easier to focus on the music, essentially shutting that voice of self-doubt out.

I'm sure there are other ways to fight this issue, and maybe some of our followers have some other ideas, but these were the first two that came to my mind.

Thanks for coming to us, good luck and never be embarrassed to ask us anything, friend. It's what we're here for <3

🤍 H

[pointman74250]

Why Write When You’re Afraid.

Every time I get ready to write, every time I sit myself across from my keyboard I am absolutely scared shitless.

There is not a monster, in fiction or myth or real life that frightens me more than my own words. The reason is simple:

I don't want to look foolish. To myself or anyone else.

I am very self-conscious. Not so much about the way I look but about my own intellect and art. I've worked for years, decades to get better at putting ink to paper and every time it's the same old nagging demand:

Don't screw up!

But here's the thing, after about twenty, maybe thirty minutes of writing horseshit, the flow kicks in.

I'm putting stuff down that is alright. Not great but just alright. And then, like the rays of the sun shining down upon me, all that fear is gone, it's replaced with joyfulness.

For me, it's not even about the end result anymore at the moment.  For me it's just about the doing. That place where I am is heaven and it's greater than all the fear I had before, which was quite a bit.

That's why I do it. Not for the fear or to be read or judged. That comes later. I'll always be afraid of that.

I do it because of that feeling of intense pleasure. It's what I've been chasing my whole life.

It's why I write to begin with.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[unchartedthelostlegacy]

i love graffiti. "comics and jazz are the only american art forms" you forgot graffiti. did you remember graffiti? That art form birthed in Philly and NYC in the early 70s by poor Black kids. that art form that spread all over the world and influenced so many. that's used without irony in commercials when they're trying to appeal to a "young urban" customer.

did you forget graffiti? that racism broken windows theory victim? that reach the establishment takes claiming that it's exclusively violent gang members throwing up those full-color pieces and wildstyle tags in the middle of the night outsmarting fifty security cameras because the billboard was ugly anyway. as if, even if it was, it wouldn't be impressive as all hell. risking brutality and fall damage so your art can occupy the space a gentrified condo named something like "Coluumna" took away from you. proving that despite only assholes affording to live here anymore there's still a soul beneath it. an animal with dripping stripes and teeth that go clack-clack tsssss

[feral-ballad]

Savannah Brown, from Closer Baby Closer; “Retroactive jealousy”

[Text ID: “Someday I’ll care for something / without wanting to close a door behind it.”]

[lucidloving]

David Foster Wallace // Marya Hornbacher, Waiting // Albert Camus, A Happy Death // Kai Cheng Thom, A Place Called No Homeland // Brené Brown, Dancing Greatly // @danielcalmdown // Anna White, Mended: Thoughts on Life, Love and Leaps of Faith // Marya Hornbacher, Waiting // Sleeping At Last—Neptune

[whumpster-dumpster]

Hey, hey! Friendly reminder to make sure your supposedly “fearless” character gets their darkest fear revealed in the worst way possible so they break down into a vulnerable shaking mess in front of all the people they care about 

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

Begging swifties to understand that Taylor didn’t write reputation and Lover with the knowledge of how the relationship was going to end and that trying to “excavate” those albums for evidence to prove a specific theory as to why it ended is not how they should be viewed. Taylor wrote those songs feeling a very specific way because that’s what she was experiencing and she is now reflecting on them with hindsight and relates to them differently than when she first created them. These conflicting emotions can exist; how she views it now doesn’t diminish how she felt about it when she first released it.

[fear-of-flyers]

new perspective

tracklist

<<play last current song play next>>

featured lyric(s): "you and all of your new perspective now, wish i could shut it in a closet and drag you back down."

parental advisory: mentions of cheating

when you started dating jack in sophomore year there was no denying that he would end up playing professional hockey. and when you were just as serious halfway through senior year you decided you would follow him anywhere; and anywhere ended up being new jersey. jack was playing with the ndtp and you were at johns hopkins studying psychology but when he was drafted it was easy enough to transfer to rutgers. when you got there you were assigned a dorm but started helping ellen help jack look for an apartment. throughout the process jack insisted that you found something you liked too because he wanted you to move in with him. and despite constantly asking “are you sure?”, the two of you found a nice two bedroom apartment halfway between his practice facility and the prudential center but still close to campus for you.

and things were going well. jack was living his dream and you were on your way to living yours. classes were going well and you went to games whenever you could. you were there for his debut and went to dinner with ellen, jim and luke after. and you were there for his first goal in a game against the canucks of all teams. you went out for dinner with his family after that game as well, but dinner was a shorter affair because the team wanted to take jack out to celebrate. everyone understood though and it worked out because ellen and jim got time to themselves while you, quinn, and luke got ice cream at a place near your apartment. at the end of the night you sent them back to the hotel in an uber and welcomed a slightly intoxicated jack back home. “you know i love you right?” jack asked as you were shuttling him to the bathroom. “yeah jacky, i know.” you respond, giggling as he turns to hug you, making the entire process of getting ready for bed harder. “okay good.” he says “gotta make sure you still do after tonight.” hearing that you pause slightly, not having a clue what he was talking about. but you don’t think too into it, assuming he’s referring to being drunk and needy.

but everything comes to light a few weeks later. the devils are on the road in california and after a game against anaheim you keep the tv on in the background as you clean your apartment. jack had texted that he was giving an interview after the game and you wanted to hear it. the game had been good for him, an assist and a goal late in the third that led to a devils win. the interview started normally, he was congratulated on the game and asked about the team; but the question that stook out to you was when the interviewer asked what being in the league had been like so far. his answer? “it’s been really good, it’s like i have a whole new perspective on everything.” as far as you were aware jack’s outlook on life hadn’t changed all that much, but you pushed it aside thinking that if something was really important jack would tell you himself. 

you were mistaken though because the next morning you woke up to what felt like hundreds of texts from everyone you knew. the one that stood out the most though was from pk subban. he had almost adopted the two of you when jack started with the team and had been there for everything you might need. the text simply read “i’m so sorry. i promise we tried to stop him.” sitting up you rubbed your eyes, confused, and scroll through the rest of your messages. they all loosely said the same things and contained the same screenshots. one from nico “he was drunk but that doesn’t excuse it. i’m here if you need anything.” a couple from your friends back home “he was stupid for that, call us asap.” and a couple in the groupchat you had with all of the hughes brothers. luke had seen it first, in the background of someone’s since deleted instagram story and texted quinn to confirm before immediately texting you. the message was simple, a screenshot captioned “jack what the hell?” quinn had responded with something similar and texted you separately to let you know that he wouldn’t choose jack’s side (if that’s what it came to). and jack hadn’t said anything.

for a full day after he cheated jack had no communication with you. no “i’m sorry” or “it was a mistake” not even an “i don’t regret it.” just radio silence. finally, after his third west coast game, on his way to the plane back home he texted “can we talk when i get back?” sighing to yourself you liked the message and went about your day. you weren’t exactly looking forward to the conversation that would inevitably end in a breakup. you had talked to your friends and parents, and everyone said that ending the relationship would probably be for the best. so, taking that into account, while he was on his flight across the country you were packing all of your things into suitcases and storage bins to move into the dorms. your roommate was in a bunch of your classes and when you didn’t initially move in she let you know that the room was always there if you needed a break. 

when most of your stuff was moved you sat on the couch, waiting for jack’s return home. and finally, just past one, you heard his key in the door. you listened as he took his shoes off and placed his keys on the rack ellen made you get. you followed his path further into the apartment via the familiar sounds of his routines until he eventually appeared in front of you. you nodded your hello and motioned for jack to sit on the couch. “so…” he started, trailing off and fidgeting with his fingers. “so?” you prompted, adding “you cheated on me” when jack seemed at a loss for words. “i’m sorry.” jack finally says. “i was drunk and wasn’t thinking. i shouldn’t have.” you nod, expecting him to continue, to say anything that feels genuine but that never comes. “i think we should break up.” you say, not wanting to drag the conversation out any further. jack’s head shoots up to look at you, eyes wide in shock. “what?” he asks. “why?” you almost laugh, “what do you mean ‘why’ jack?” you ask. “you kissed someone else.” at that jack shakes his head “i was drunk y/n, it can’t be that big of a deal.” then you can’t even be bothered to hold back your laugh. “it’s a pretty big deal to me jack.” you say, not getting how he doesn’t understand. “what if i kissed someone else?” 

“that’s different” jack say and you snap. “how the fuck is it different jack? how is me kissing someone else different than you kissing someone else? why is it okay for you to cheat but i can’t even bring it up?” you ask, standing up. “is this what you meant in that interview? is this your new perspective? whatever jack. we’re over.” hearing that makes it real to jack, “what? no, come on, let me fix this.” he says, standing up to face you again. and looking into his eyes you see pieces of the man you fell in love with, but no matter how much you want to cave you know you can’t. “you can’t fix it jack.” you admit, sighing softly, “i wish i could shut this all in the hall closet and drag you back down with me but i can’t. you will always be my first everything jack and i wouldn’t trade it for the world. i think this is gonna be good for both of us, and it’s not like you’ll never see me again. we’ll figure it out eventually, we’ll just be apart while we do it.”

[haleyincarnate]

A reminder for me, a reminder for you.

Your worth is not measured by what other people pour into you. It is what you pour into yourself that matters.

[atjinds]

they dont make em (tv show relationship squares) like this anymore

[unboundprompts]

diferent ways to describe the fear of something?

Different Ways to Describe Fear

Symptoms of Fear:

accelerated breathing

accelerated heart rate

goosebumps

sweating

sleep disturbance

butterflies in stomach

dizziness

Body Language Responses to Fear:

hunching shoulders

shrinking away

wide eyes

shaking / trembling

freezing

wrapping arms around themselves

shaking hands

Writing Prompts:

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

She pressed a trembling hand to her chest as if that would do anything to slow her racing heart.

His eyes were crazed, darting around to look at the shadows of the room.

Their limbs felt like jelly, afraid that they would collapse at any moment.

She was utterly frozen. Her body cut all communication with her mind, and no matter how much her brain screamed for her to run she was immobilized in terror.

He had a tight knot forming in his stomach.

They couldn't breathe. They were totally suffocated by fear and it felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on their chest.

Dread clouded her thinking. She walked around like she was in a daze, relying solely on muscle memory to get her down the hallway.

His hands were trembling so badly that he couldn't do anything and his terror made it impossible to focus.

Their throat was dry. No matter how many times they swallowed it did nothing to relieve the uncomfortable feeling.

The salty taste of fear lingered on her lips.

His muscles screamed at him to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He stared forwards hauntingly.

They ran. They ran faster than their legs had ever carried them, adrenaline taking over all of their senses. It felt like they were being chased, but there was no way for them to know for certain. They were too afraid to turn around.

It felt like her heart was about to burst from her ribcage.

[novelconcepts]

The defintion of hell is knowing a show is incredibly well-received in its first season, but if people don’t become machines churning out tweets, content, and rewatching 24/7, there’s no likelihood it’ll get a chance to tell its whole story. This shit is madness. Shows in different genres shouldn’t have to pit-battle for dominance. First seasons are MEANT to be baselines establishing worlds and characters, not complete storylines. The idea that this golden age of television has turned into “get it done in one or get out” is revolting.

[quelmdn]

More Anharion and Sarcean ✨🌘