#writeblr.fijhp

[artbyeloquent]

"fuck it, just hit post" - a 2024 writeblr resolution

In December I wrote a little rant about how much better I might feel if I stopped feeling beholden to put out aesthetic "content" and just shared the raw truth of my art and writing drafts. @inkovert also had some lovely thoughts on that post that inspired me.

So here's my best crack at it! Similar to @winterandwords CalmWriMo but as (hopefully) a lasting commitment to the whole year, Fuck It, Just Hit Post aims for me to share more regularly regardless of whether I consider the work "polished" enough to post or even if it gets 2 notes.

As someone who notoriously edits as they write, constantly worrying if their words are resounding enough for someone to read, I'd like to challenge myself to the "fuck it" mentality. Even if I get nothing from it--no notes, no new followers--my hope is that it'll shift my mindset away from "content creation" to the joyful act of creating, period.

If you'd like to join me in this New Year's Resolution, you can post whatever you please (doodles, wip updates, rambles, oc content, etc) under the tag #writeblr.fijhp ! I will track the tag and do my best to reblog everyone's work <3

This is more of a philosophy than a writeblr challenge, which means you can start and stop at anytime. Post once under the tag, or flood it. Who cares! You can do whatever you want forever. And the "fuck it" mentality will always be waiting if you'd like to try it out.

[inkovert]

sharing a snippet from a chapter I went back and rewrote a bit last night bc something about it felt ~off~ and I still can't decide if I like the changes I made or not but fuck it :)

Picking up a keychain from a nearby rack, I chucked it at him. 

His brows furrowed as it bounced off his chest. “What the hell was that?”

“Oh, my bad, I didn’t realize you could see me, you know, given the way you blew me off in the hall the other day.” He glared off to the side. “A bit rude, don’t you think? Did I piss you off that much at the dance?”

His jaw clenched. Still not meeting my gaze, he asked, “You lecture all your customers like this?” 

“Only the ones that act like immature jerks,” I shot back. 

His eyes finally flicked over to me. He bent over, picking the keychain I threw off the floor and returning it to its rack. “Overlook all past transgressions.”

My brows furrowed. “What?”

“Those were your words. The terms of the clean slate. You seem to think I owe you more than that.”  

I gritted my teeth. “Yes, Spencer, you’re right. I’m really asking for a lot by expecting to be given the time of day.” 

“That’s not what I mean.” He fiddled with the remaining keychains on the rack. “Your whole speech about us having some sort of understanding. For whatever reason, you refuse to admit the obvious.” His head turned and our eyes met. “We’re strangers to each other. I don’t know anything about you and you don’t know anything about me. A handful of arguments doesn’t change that.”

My lips parted, a surge of protest rushing to the surface. But it slowly subsided, my lips closing once more.

//

I grabbed a bag for his purchase, but he declined with a shake of his head. Swiping up the CD, I moved to hand it over to him, yanking it back just as he reached for it. 

He tsked, mocking me. “Now you’re just getting pathetic.” 

I frowned, grumbling as I handed the CD over. 

“The girl’s self-esteem is intact for one more day. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

I glanced over at Andy who, evidently having been watching us — or rather, Spencer — quickly averted her gaze. He had a point. And it surprised me that he’d gone out of his way to step in and help without being asked. 

Then, I replayed his words. “Wait, you did all that…for me?”

“Don’t read too much into it. Consider it an apology. For the other day.” He averted his gaze. 

He was about to walk off, but a simple sentence made him hang back. “You’re wrong, you know.” His brow twitched. “About us not knowing anything about each other.” How could he not see it? 

Palms flat against the counter, I leaned against them. “I know that you like Rock music — The Kooks, Rolling Stones, Crash Kings,” I nodded to the CD in his hand. “I know the glove compartment in your car is packed with CDs, and on a random night last September your favorite band was Nirvana. I know that every time I see you you have a different book in your hand, and the reason you enjoy reading so much is because it gives purpose to your meaningless, inconsequential life — your words, not mine. You own a phone so ancient I didn’t even know they still made it. When you don’t want to answer a question you either respond with a question or by avoiding eye contact, sometimes both at once if I’m lucky. And I know I saw you in a vulnerable state once and I’ve kept it a secret ever since. So, sure, they may have just been a handful of arguments on the surface. But we took something away from each one. At least, I did. So, between us, I don’t think I’m the one that’s refusing to admit the obvious here.” 

[inscrutable-shadow]

mm arranged marriage au

thanatos is a young, well-educated heir to the throne, attractive, elegant, skilled with music, with effortless social grace, all things that would be fantastic were he a woman

he's not, to his father's endless disappointment, and to top it off he has no interest in female suitors so they can't even marry him off for political gain, real disgrace of a son smh

one day, though, lord iuventus (we're saying than's human for this and house iuventae controls a small demesne near a fae forest) receives a letter from the nearby fae court, their prince is asking specifically for than's hand in marriage

prince reality is speculated to be part-divine, but is definitely the most powerful sorcerer of his generation, known to be haughty and care little for others, very scary, but also a political marriage to the fae court would be incredible, and if they're asking us we can set the terms

lord iuventus doesn't like the idea of marrying his son off to a man and letting his daughter rule after him but like that's the best option he's got and by golly he'll take it

than's scared but standard thanatos self-worth issues so he'll go just so he can be useful for once

the archfey as prince reality of course, fully male this time but just as aggressive about what he wants, though more overtly domineering

calls thanatos "trinket" because when they met he bowed so low out of nervousness his crown fell off (adorable!)

they have a sixty day courting period before they get married where reality hopes to convince thanatos not to feel trapped into this (than doesn't need sixty days to realize how incredibly into reality he is actually)

will save the nsfw stuff for another post but this is what i've been thinking about this week lol it will not leave me

taglist: @crash-bump-bring-the-whump because otherwise i will just dump this into your dms anyway, @athenswrites, and no one else cause this isn't technically ieiunusverse XD

[bluehourskyeli]

You're eating breakfast,

Cereal and milk in a white bowl,

The kitchen lights are warm and bright.

There's an unfamiliar noise,

The insistent ringing of a phone.

It's not your phone.

You look around

Trying to find where it comes from.

The fridge

?

You open the door and there it is indeed,

A yellow landline phone.

You've never seen it before.

It keeps ringing.

Seeming the only logical thing to do,

You answer it

“Hello?”

There's the sound of breathing on the other end, but nothing more.

A wave of panic rushes over you,

You hang up,

With shaky hands

You close the fridge

And sit back to the table.

This is a dream, you realize.

I will wake up soon.

So you finish your breakfast.

It's a lovely morning,

And you forget how cold the room became

when you picked up that phone.

[starlightswitch]

Thoughts of a New Doctor

@flashfictionfridayofficial Definitely wrote myself such a letter hoping future me was over a guy

This might be the hardest thing Corinne had to do in med school, and it had nothing to do with medicine.

They’d handed out blank pieces of paper, envelopes and pens. She was supposed to write a letter to her future self, which would be given back to her on the day she graduated. The suggestions, if people needed them, were to write about what they would say if their future self, Dr. so-and-so, was standing right in front of them, or to write about why they wanted to be a doctor in case they had lost sight of the big picture by then.

Corinne had currently lost sight of the big picture. She’d really thought she’d started moving on– she was starting med school, a fresh start if there ever was one– until several classmates she’d talked to today had mentioned their significant others. And then one of the doctors who spoke, about the importance of maintaining relationships, had talked about the long distance relationship he’d been in when he was in med school. They’d made it through. They were now married.

She did not know, she reminded herself for at least the thousandth time, how a relationship would have gone with Jamal. Maybe it would have been terrible. Maybe they would have already broken up by now.

She was not going to use a letter that was supposed to be about becoming a doctor to ask if she had ever gotten over a guy she dated in college. Future her, who might even be in a relationship, would think she was ridiculous. Future her would probably remember she’d been tempted to do it and think even that was ridiculous.

But somehow not mentioning it seemed dishonest.

So here she sat, while people were finishing their letters and sticking them in the envelopes and sealing them up, trying to figure out a way to mention it in a way that didn’t entirely sound like she was mentioning it.

She really was ridiculous.

She ended up keeping it simple. Congratulations, Dr. McNulty. You made it. We both knew you could. I’m so proud you did. I hope you can enjoy today–

She had crossed out the start of several things like “with no regrets” and “and that you don’t worry about what might have been”.

–with confidence in yourself and your choices.

She licked the envelope and pressed down on the table to seal it tight, imagining her future self reading that with a mature, understanding shake of her head, with a confidence in her choices that Corinne presently could only wish she had.

[artbyeloquent]

1703 -> 1834. Chapter's done, just need to let it sit before I edit ^w^

first day of "five words" has viv&sarcinia's first chapter moving from 1259 to 1703 words. love these disaster lesbians.

[artbyeloquent]

Guess who's bringing this back in 2025! And I have a lot of posts from yall to reblog.

"fuck it, just hit post" - a 2024 writeblr resolution

In December I wrote a little rant about how much better I might feel if I stopped feeling beholden to put out aesthetic "content" and just shared the raw truth of my art and writing drafts. @inkovert also had some lovely thoughts on that post that inspired me.

So here's my best crack at it! Similar to @winterandwords CalmWriMo but as (hopefully) a lasting commitment to the whole year, Fuck It, Just Hit Post aims for me to share more regularly regardless of whether I consider the work "polished" enough to post or even if it gets 2 notes.

As someone who notoriously edits as they write, constantly worrying if their words are resounding enough for someone to read, I'd like to challenge myself to the "fuck it" mentality. Even if I get nothing from it--no notes, no new followers--my hope is that it'll shift my mindset away from "content creation" to the joyful act of creating, period.

If you'd like to join me in this New Year's Resolution, you can post whatever you please (doodles, wip updates, rambles, oc content, etc) under the tag #writeblr.fijhp ! I will track the tag and do my best to reblog everyone's work <3

This is more of a philosophy than a writeblr challenge, which means you can start and stop at anytime. Post once under the tag, or flood it. Who cares! You can do whatever you want forever. And the "fuck it" mentality will always be waiting if you'd like to try it out.