#writeouswriter

[albatris]

time for the rentalcar cover reveal!

artwork is by the extremely talented @antiquedeuce who did a phenomenal job, I couldn't be happier with the results :3

I'm very excited to share this silly little ginormous book with you all soon! in the meantime there's my website and mailing list so you can stay up to date with what's happening re: renting cars <3

tag list under cut!

@transmasc-wizard @saturn-iidae @polyaubergine @tracle0 @goosemixtapes @valence-positive @the-one-who-makes-negative-noise @ambiguousfiction @afoolandathief @silverwarewolf @mecharose @vellichor-virgo @plasticseaslug @jetstargenderfuckery @multi-lefaiye @writeouswriter @junoshusband @writing-is-a-martial-art @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @sleepycaprine @cream-and-tea @gailynovelry @lefttigerobservation @indecentpause @writingsfromspace @carnivalls @violetfoxsketches @approximately20eggs @mohluskiepedard @desastreus @kk7-rbs @cee-grice @northwyrm @xylophonicsynapse @careful-pyromancer @recapitulation @incandescent-creativity @whole-buncha-snakess @mysticalalleycat @thatonecrowguy @va-nila-bean @televisionjester @excessive-vampires @walkman-cat @davycoquette @trenchcrows

[karolinarodrigueswrites]

fake tweets for my wip, Grim Congregation, where a demon starts a ghost hunting webseries the public is told is fictional. might make more of these later.

tagging: @writeouswriter

[wijdan309]

🚨 Very urgent 🚨

The occupation bombed the family home, and 3 people were martyred and dozens were injured.

We have been harmed. Please help us.

With a sad heart, I ask for your kindness to help us with donations to build the house.

Donate and contribute.

Every donation from you gives us a glimmer of hope in rebuilding our lives and our future.

Your generosity will not lift the heavy burden from our shoulders. It also inspires others to offer their support. Please do not ignore my message.

Honestly, I do not know what I can do to save my family, even though I am sick and in need.

I need medicines, tests, and tests to perform surgery, and I do not have the minimum necessities of life, such as food, clothes, etc.!!

We deserve life!!

If you are free and feel humanity, donate to us and help us, you are our last hope

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #370 )✅️

@90-ghost ‏@dirhwangdaseul @bonkcreat @tamamita @chokulit @3000s @apas-95 @pitbolshevik @ot3 @punkitt-is-here @vampiricvenus @turtletoria @paper-mario-wiki @valtsv @omegaversereloaded @i-am-a-fish @catsgifsarefun @spongebobssquarepants @postanagramgenerator @feluka @nyancrimew @90-ghost @beserkerjewel @neechees @memingursa @certifiedsexed @afro-elf @11thsense @sawasawako @spacebeyonce @skipppppy @beetledrink @fools-and -perverts2 @dailyquests @evillesbianvillain @wolfertinger666 @taffybuns @ankle-beez @sabertoothwalrus @meshugenist

‏@isuggestforcefem @hotvampireadjacent‏

@sar-soor @plomegranate @communistkenobi @queerstudiesnatural @bluebellsinthedells @rizzyluke @kordeliiius @self-hating-zionist @raelyn-dreams @unfortunatelyuncreative @licencetokrill-blog @jezebelgoldstone @ramelcandy @labutansa @sammywo @autistwizard @tortiefrancis @sparklinpixiedust @feluka @revcuse @golvio @star-and-space-ace @rainbowywitch @marscollection @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @boyvained-blog @ammonitetheseaserpent @girlinafairytale @timelightbox @appsa @half-empty-orbitals @seasnipper @gaza-strip @akajustmerry @ree-duh @neptunerings @dlxxv-vetted-donations @sayruq @malcriada @sar-soor @northgazaupdates2 @dirhwangdaseul @jdon @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhater @toesuckingoctober @waskuyecaozu @lapithae @ryo-yamada @opencommunion @el-shab-hussein @paper-mario-wiki

@commissions4aid-international @sunmooneclipseandstars @franki-lee @none-until-all @blossomfully @chillywillow1 @gatsby-system-folks @wizardarchives @postanagramgenerator @newportfolkfest @bisexualpositivity @writeouswriter @galactic-rhea @ur-local-relatable-alt-kid @princessnessa2017-blog @neptuneschaos @wild-forest-bee @cam24fan @strflwers @hotsugar @hahvdh @moronic0xymoron @animebabe55 @paper-mario-wiki @profoundlyscreechingkryptonite @corpsenurse @d3lph1unkn0wn @confusedsheepsblog @p33rpressure @heritageposts @victoriawhimsey @wizardarchives @humanculi @runawaycatherine @opencommunion @problemnyatic @partridgeinayanderetree @palhelp @palestinegenocide @autisticats @ashwantsafreepalestine @angelicdevil @actuallyapigeon @aflamethatneverdies @lotus-tower @selflovejolteon @feluka @gayscifi @fagkit @frazzledhare

@dirhwangdaseul @b0nkcreat @tamamita @chokulit @3000s @apas-95 @pitbolshevik @ot3 @punkitt-is-here @vampiricvenus @turtletoria @paper-mario-wiki @valtsv @omegaversereloaded @i-am-a-fish @catsgifsarefun @spongebobssquarepants @postanagramgenerator @feluka @nyancrimew @90-ghost @beserkerjewel @neechees @memingursa @certifiedsexed @afro-elf @11thsense @sawasawako @spacebeyonce @skipppppy @beetledrink @fools-and-perverts2 @dailyquests @evillesbianvillain @wolfertinger666 @taffybuns @ankle-beez @sabertoothwalrus @meshugenist @isuggestforcefem @hotvampireadjacent @marxism-transgenderism @boobieteriat @jonahmagnus-research @pitbolshevik @communistkenobi-archive @haootia @skinwretch @determinate-negation @talasem @girldraki @jame7t @treesbian @pollocksbollocks @rocksnstars @mayonaisalspray @toiletpotato @pisshandkerchief @longseasons @wis-art @beserkerjewel @wolf-tail @strangeauthor @wolfertinger666 @a-shade-of-blue @yekkes @postanagramgenerator @feluka @punkeropercyjackson @strange-aelurus @nabulsi @ringosnoop @sporesgalaxy @palhelp @turtletoria @valtsv @annabelle--cane @anneemay @tamamita @taffybunnie @prinnay @prisonhannibal @paper-mario-wiki @komsomolka @neechees @victoriawhimsey @punkitt-is-here @vampiricvenus @ankle-beez @autisticmudkip @catnapdreams @mushroomjar @pissvortex @prisonhannibal @apas-95 @neechees @memingursa @afro-elf @vampiricvenus @turtletoria @marxism-transgenderism @beetledrink @bevsi @beserkerjewel @feluka @i-am-a-fish @spacebeyonce @b0nkcreat @11thsense @boobieteriat@omegaversereloaded @punkitt-is-here @tamamita @skunkes @ot3 @valtsv @wolfertinger666 @paper-mario-wiki @nyancrimew @spongebobssquarepants @sabertoothwalrus @90-ghost @komsomolka @sawasawako @hotvampireadjacent @certifiedsexed @isuggestforcefem @3000s @chokulit @ankle-beez @pitbolshevik

[mahmoudalmasrifund]

🎥 From Me to You – Mahmoud Life’s not always easy, but with your support, I can keep pushing forward — not just for me, but for my family too. Every Donate, share, or kind word means more than you know. 💙 Thank you for being part of this journey.

@90-ghost @writeouswriter @wnq-writers @orphetoon @prinnay

@youve-doomed-us-all-jerk @revscarecrow @usagichanp @ikimaru

@jannelle-o @jebiwonkenobi @knightofleo @monachopsis-people

[ink-fireplace-coffee]

Bellwether: a Wip Intro

Welcome to Bellwether! This place looks like just out of a postcard... someone forgot to send. Red-brick storefronts, a diner with a jukebox and the same people in the same places every single day. It's like a cycle. There are just a couple of rules before you set in! 1. Do not ask about the accident. 1. Do not ask about the accident. 1. Do not-- I said that already didn't I? 2. If you see something... No you did not. 3. Do not talk about what you saw. Really. It's better that way. Anyway! Hope you enjoy your stay!

---

Status: drafting/plotting (i'm just gonna make it up as I go. no plan)

POV: multiple POVs 3rd person omniscient.

Genre: supernatural/ mystery (?), rural paranormal.

CW/TW: death and implied death, explosion and fire trauma, ptsd/anxiety/panic attacks, survivor's guilt, paranormal themes (including hallucinations), emotional abuse depiction, self-isolation, possible light gore, substance abuse.

Summary: an old group of what used to be friends and a newcomer are brought back together years after their town suffered a catastrophe. Now, as much as they try, they cannot ignore the signs anymore, and they must try to understand and reveal the patterns they tried to turn away from to break the cycle before it completes again, while also navigating the hardship of repairing relationships bonds that fractured, as well as grieving who they used to be... No one will come back the same.

Character Intros: TBD

Tropes: unreliable narrators, found family (with lots of work to do), small town mystery.

Themes: cycles/repetition, grief and memory, identity (both individual and as a town).

Taglist: open! ask/reblog to be added!

@writeouswriter

[oh-no-another-idea]

Heads up 7 up tag

Thank you for these tags (extremely ancient tags hoarded most carefully until this date) @space-writes and @winterandwords! Today I made myself go out in the rain because I knew it'd be good for me and I got coffee and wrote in a bustling cafe, so have some new Invisible Girl! 💗

Velia tapped her foot impatiently. “What did Paris say?” “Oh,” Antonio said. “He knows where Crowley’s going to be after lunch and said to meet them there. I’ll ask someone for directions, but Paris reported it’s another trolley car distance away.” “I suppose Crowley thinks we’re made of money,” Lewis said dourly, rummaging through his pockets. “Relax,” Antonio told him. “You’re working for my father right now, you’re on his dime. I’ve got an allowance for this job, you’re covered.” “I work for your father every day of my damned life.” Antonio blinked twice. “Well,” he said. “Yes. Yes, I suppose you do.”

You know the drill, it's a line or two more than 7, but who's counting? Passing a gentle tag to @sarandipitywrites @writernopal @aalinaaaaaa @ahordeofwasps @acertainmoshke @writeouswriter @writingrosesonneptune and anyone else who sees this and wants to hop aboard ;)

[merelyafigment]

Thanks for the tag @writeouswriter! :)

Rules: post the last sentence you wrote and tag a person for each word.

...I was falling asleep last night when I whipped out my phone to add to the ridiculous Miguel/Chico No Oz AU doc named "ChickenFingers". Please excuse:

Like he saw the hard swallow, bobbing under that thin, oddly delicate skin.

I didn't know 13 people (damn my rambling sentences!) to tag, unfortunately, since I couldn't remember who was actively writing. No pressure tagging (feel free to ignore me): @wawamouse @imposterzoe @faceless-inthecrowd @9cbffs @michelleelizabethtanner @blood-mocha-latte @brasideios @pilot-nobody @tocadoguara

@sothischickshe @discoverywriter

[nine-blessed-hero]

Last Line Tag

Tagged by @writeouswriter, about a year ago 😅️ (I miiiight be pulling out all my drafted tag games...)

Rules: Post the last line you wrote.

Tagging: @aalinaaaaaa @ieppiq @wispstalk @rhikasa @eli-writes-sometimes @hannah-heartstrings @artdecosupernova-writing @mythrilpencil @aquadestinyswriting @reneesbooks @oh-no-another-idea @winglesswriter @pheita

This is from The Ruby Falls:

"And I told you, that until Martin is safe I consider your work for me unfinished. You know the repercussions and you know I'm prepared to follow through. Call in sick." The line clicked off. Aderyn dropped her phone, pulling her knees to her chest and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, letting out a scream like the hiss of a stove-kettle between pressed lips.

That very british moment when you have to specify which type of kettle you mean.

I'm also very much enjoying writing Jauffers as an unmitigated cunt 😊️ I just hope I can make the emotional payoff of his about-face land well

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Hey guys whaddya want?

Idk I'm slowly catching up on tag games and asks but I'd also like to work on other stuff when I can. So here's a poll for what to see on my blog.

To get this out to folks:

@illarian-rambling @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @thepeculiarbird @literarynecromancy

@mk-writes-stuff @leahnardo-da-veggie @elizaellwrites @aalinaaaaaa @chauceryfairytales @cherrybombfangirlwrites

@theeccentricraven @theelfauthor @sleepyowlwrites @sleepywriter00 @sleepyrxsetea

@mundanemoongirl @museandquill @winterandwords @mrbexwrites @writernopal

@urnumber1star @oliolioxenfreewrites @paeliae-occasionally @rickie-the-storyteller @willtheweaver

@laureleavess @sarandipitywrites @sarahlizziewrites @dyrewrites @eccaiia

@happypup-kitcat24 @pluppsauthor @nailamoonsi @somethingclevermahogony @pluttskutt

@oh-no-another-idea @finickyfelix @finxi-writes @finchwrites @kaseylynnwriting

@katwritesshit @wyked-ao3 @atelierwriting @awritingcaitlin @writeouswriter

@captain-kraken @writingamongther0ses @drchenquill @talesofsorrowandofruin

[memento-morri-writes]

TBR Tag Game

I'm hopping on an open tag from @tc-doherty to share 9 books I read this year, and 9 books I'm hoping to read next year.

Read This Year:

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland

The Traitor Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickenson

A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine (also read the first book)

The Spirit Well by R.K. Ashwick (@ashen-crest)

The Obsidian Tower by Melissa Caruso

Godkiller by Hannah Kaner

Snowblooded by Emma Sterner-Radley

Somewhere Beyond the Sea by T.J. Klune

The first 5 were my favorites of the year (in no particular order), and the rest were honorable mentions.

Hoping to Read Next Year:

The Tyrant Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson

The Monster Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson

A Captured Cauldron by R.K. Ashwick (@ashen-crest)

Voyage of the Damned by France White

Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn

Strictly No Heroics by B.L. Radley (@radley-writes)

The Quicksilver Court by Melissa Caruso

Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher

I don't have a 9th I'm super excited about, despite having more in my TBR, so 8 will have to do. I'm most eager to read the top row, but I'm excited about all of them!! I do really want to re-read the Gentleman Bastards series, though... I need to read about the original Idiot Bastard Man (affectionate).

Tagging @transmasc-wizard @space-writes @writeouswriter @cryptid-s-wips @emrowene @talesofsorrowandofruin

[albatris]

hewwo

I deleted the opening of rentalcar from tumblr months ago when all the ai nonsense happened but now it's back again because I'm me. it's fresh and edited! and shorter

here's the new chapter one for your viewing pleasure. enjoy! or don't. don't let me tell you how to live your life I'm not your mum

hi taglist hello - some of you have already read this! I hope you're having a nice day though 😎

@transmasc-wizard @saturn-iidae @polyaubergine @tracle0 @goosemixtapes @valence-positive @the-one-who-makes-negative-noise @ambiguousfiction @afoolandathief @silverwarewolf @mecharose @vellichor-virgo @plasticseaslug @jetstargenderfuckery @multi-lefaiye @writeouswriter @junoshusband @writing-is-a-martial-art @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @sleepycaprine @cream-and-tea @gailynovelry @lefttigerobservation @indecentpause @writingsfromspace @carnivalls @violetfoxsketches @approximately20eggs @mohluskiepedard @desastreus @kk7-rbs @cee-grice @northwyrm @xylophonicsynapse @careful-pyromancer @recapitulation @incandescent-creativity @whole-buncha-snakess @mysticalalleycat @thatonecrowguy @va-nila-bean @televisionjester @excessive-vampires @walkman-cat @davycoquette @xenascribbles

tw for paranoia, anxiety, hallucinations, swearing, general feelings of unease

Nat Finch blinked awake.

He was slumped forward in the driver’s seat of his rental car, his forehead pressed to the steering wheel, his body aching like he hadn’t moved in centuries. His feet were bare. His throat burned. His head throbbed. Curled over his shoulders was the familiar softness of the blanket from his back seat, the one he’d been meaning to give to the Larsons for two weeks now. A deep night breeze leaked through the slightly-open window to his right, the cold gnawing at the dampness that clung to his clothes, to his face and hair. He felt filthy, filmy, disgusting—more so than usual.

A muddle of memories and flickers and voices fought for space in his brain, bumping up against each other and overlapping, threads escaping every time he thought he’d grasped one. He was overcome, for a single surreal moment, by the sense he had just awoken from an exceedingly peculiar dream.

Nat Finch sat up, groaning.

Disturbed by the motion, plastic crinkled in his lap. A collection of granola bars was scattered over him, a few of them having tumbled down onto the seat next to him and the floor below. Like someone had dumped them unceremoniously over his head and just… left him like that.

He recognised the brand, vaguely—something hoity-toity and ridiculous he’d seen at the supermarket, fifteen dollars a goddamn box—but they weren’t something that had any business being anywhere near him. His bank balance barely scraped double digits at the moment.

“Who the fuck…” Nat paused, not sure what question he was even supposed to be asking. “Why the fuck…”

His attention edged upwards, to a scrap of cardboard folded neatly in two and perched atop his dashboard.

DO YOUR BEST! it read in a childlike handwritten scrawl.

Nat squinted harder. “What the fuck.”

He tried to think. His brain, sluggish and laden with fog and aching, refused to provide any context for the mystery shower of nutrition. Or the note.

Or… anything else, for that matter. He didn’t remember falling asleep; he didn’t remember stopping his car. He remembered leaving work, but it had barely been dusk when he’d left work and the trip from Stop ‘N’ Go to his apartment was fifteen minutes, tops.

It was not dusk anymore. The black outside was the pure solitude of the witching hour and the world beyond his window was silent, save for the buzz and pop of a single faulty streetlight a few metres ahead and the chittering gossip of crickets. No people. No cars. No movement.

Nat’s dread climbed. He craned his neck and strained to decipher his whereabouts. The lonely light offered only flimsy, spluttering illumination—some of it splashing into his car, some of it into dry grass and mesh fence lining the side of the road, most of it merely into the rumble of gravel directly beneath it. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea why he was where he was.

The disco ball hanging from his rear-view mirror glittered at him, blinking urgently.

He shoved the granola bars off himself, suddenly feeling contaminated. A strident, pulsating pain forked through every inch of his body at the movement—he gritted his teeth, letting out a hiss and a wince. The blanket went next, ripped from his shoulders and hurled at the opposing window in a multicoloured flurry. It crumpled to the passenger seat and Nat stared at it, prickling all over with the suspicion someone else had placed it on him. Someone else had been here. Watching. Leaning. Looming. Touching. His hand flew to the window winder and wound it, sealing the opening. Sealing himself in and the outside out.

And then he sat still, mind reeling, chest tight. Panic twisting in his stomach. He waited for his brain to kick over, for his memory to rush back, for the moment he shook free the dregs of post-sleep disorientation and went, Oh, that’s right! That’s why I’m here! That’s what’s going on! How could I have forgotten?

A minute passed.

And another.

Frozen.

Rigid.

Nat swallowed, hard. Nothing clicked into place. Nothing clicked and nothing clicked and nothing clicked. Why not? He’d left work and turned left down Rake Street like he always did. He’d done nothing out of the ordinary.

The night outside was alive. With every flicker-out of the streetlight, the dark whined at his window, still trying to reach him. A tapping, a whistling, a whispering in its own made-up language. Nat. Nat. Nat. Something’s wrong. Nathaniel. Something’s wrong. The dark that should not have been there. The dark that should have been dusk.

He'd lost hours. Hours. What the hell had happened to him? The note on his dashboard sat there, smirking. It knew things he didn’t.

Nat fought to breathe in.

Nat fought to breathe out.

Nat breathed in.

Nat breathed out.

Five things he could see were that gaudy leopard-print steering wheel cover, the smeared windscreen from too-old wipers, the radio, the hazard switch, his own hands, crusted in cracked, dried mud.

Four things he could feel were the press of the seat under him, the press of his work uniform over him, the sting of the cold on his feet, pain, pain, pain.

Three things he could hear were crickets and streetlights and dark.

Two things he could smell were the dull citrus hum of the vent-clip air freshener and the fact it was doing nothing to hide the fact he hadn’t showered in a while.

One thing he could taste was—

Okay, okay, alright. Okay. That would do it. Nat breathed in. Nat breathed out. Calm. Calm. Calm.

He reached gingerly for the ignition, exhaling in relief when he grasped the key still inside. He had that, at least. He hesitated, perched on an agonising threshold between hopeful anticipation and whatever reality was about to find him.

He turned the key.

Nothing.

He turned again.

Nothing. The car stuttered and clicked uselessly, refusing to start. Relief left him as quickly as it had arrived. Flat battery.

Nat breathed, “Ah, fuck.”

Nat breathed in.

Nat breathed out.

He twisted towards the back seat, feeling along the faux leather for his work backpack. He hauled it to himself and rammed an arm inside to seek his phone, shoving through a jumble of familiar shapes—notebook, hoodie, empty soft drink can for recycling, empty soft drink can for recycling, gum, nametag—ah, there it was.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Nat whined, his finger colliding with the power button. “Please, please, please—”

Nothing. Flat battery.

Nat breathed in.

Nat plonked his forehead back down on the steering wheel and released a long, agonised wail.

Simmering anxiety climbed into roiling terror. Terror branched sideways into paranoia. Paranoia bloomed up through his chest and into his throat, where it squeezed tight and threatened to choke him. He’d lost hours. Anything could have happened to him. Anything could have been done to him.

The dark outside mocked and laughed. The disco ball blinked its rhythmic little warnings. He could feel it all, even when he wasn’t looking.

Nathaniel. Something’s wrong. Nathaniel.

“No shit,” he muttered back.

What next?

He lifted his head and flipped the sun visor down to look at himself in the mirror. With no phone screen and no overhead light to guide him, it was hard to get a full picture. He tilted his head, twisted his neck, attempted to catch himself on some jittering streetlight. He snagged a few glimpses—a dribble of blood from a presumably cracked lip here, a smudge of dirt on a cheekbone there. The collar of his shirt looked bloody, too. His hair wasn’t sitting right, tangled black all caked together and hanging in thick clumps. Two trembling hands lifted, the quiver partially from weakness and partially from fear, and Nat gripped at his face. Tugging along those familiar edges and curves and juts, finding them not so familiar. Finding them wrong. Hollow. Caved in. His fingertips wandered down towards his jaw—

—and along the thick, uneven mumbling of stubble that hadn’t been there when he’d left the apartment that morning.

Nat’s heartbeat tripped up. He hadn’t lost hours.

He’d lost days.

Nat breathed in. And in. And in. Not enough. Too fast. His chest heaved. His lungs refused to fill.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t have lost days. He couldn’t have lost days. Jesus Christ, Nat had never been the shining poster child of mental health, but he’d never lost days. He’d been God knew where for God knew how long. He’d been—his feet were bare, his hands and face were streaked with mud, someone had clearly been messing around in his car—he’d been taken. Drugged. Kidnapped. That scribbled note? Do your best? He was being toyed with, probably by some deranged serial killer. And what was with the granola bars? Some kind of clue? A message?

He had to go. Run. Get help. Something close to a whimper climbed up his throat and fell from his lips. His hand crept to the door handle and stopped.

He’d seen horror movies. Not many, but enough. The chase, the hunt, the twisted mind games before the inevitable kill… these were part of the fun. There was probably someone watching him right now, folded into the shadows and out of sight, waiting for him to panic. Waiting for him to make his first mistake and step outside.

Waiting for him to start the game.

He couldn’t leave.

He couldn’t stay.

Could he stay? Could he just wait it out? Someone would find him. Someone would look for him. Someone would look for him, right?

No, no one would look for him. No one would care enough that he was gone.

No, there was no way they’d let him wait this out, whoever they were. They would find some way to lure him out, drive him out, force him into the waiting hands of the night air. Unprotected. Alone. All at once Nat felt a million eyes boring into him, leering from beyond the black, drinking in his every move. He shoved himself lower in his seat, clutching his dead phone to his chest.

Nat fought to breathe in.

Nat fought to breathe out.

He tried a final time to reason with himself.

When he’d worked twelve hour shifts four days straight, he’d started being dogged by the idea that someone had snuck a microscopic tracking device into his takeaway pizza, which he had subsequently consumed. When he’d been behind on rent for the third fortnight in a row, he’d become fixated on the idea that other customers in the supermarket were reading his thoughts and laughing at him. Look at this fucking loser. Grimy hair and track pants. Can’t even afford instant ramen.

Panic and stress tended to climb on top of him bit by bit. Panic and stress tended to twist all kinds of everyday events into all kinds of unnatural, terrifying shapes. It was normal. Even the tiny, audible hints of speech pushing through the dark, giving voice to his anxiety, those were normal under the right circumstances. It was all… no, not normal. It was a pattern. Tomorrow, he’d be fine. Tomorrow, he’d understand he’d never been in any danger.

So even though he was here now, helpless and stranded in the empty night, barefoot and filthy, abandoned by his memories and surrounded by leering scrawled words and fucking rich-people granola bars—he had to take this moment of clarity and hold it tight.

Tomorrow, this would all make sense.

DO YOUR BEST! the dark around him sang.

“Go to hell,” Nat spat.

And with that, he wrenched the door open.

[karolinarodrigueswrites]

Wip intro made on canva, through its resources, with images from the windswept picrew by Elena-illustration.

✨The ghost-hunting-show-run-by-a-demon wip intro!✨

This was supposed to have been ready around Halloween, but moving to an apartment and health stuff happened, so it ended up greatly delayed.

I just noticed the image quality is not fully loading on standard display, but it does look normal when you see one by one. I also noticed I typed "heavy lifting" in two different ways. It's enough now that you get the meaning.

It's a bit on the longer side, but I hope it will be given a chance to be read.

tagging: @writeouswriter

[wijdan309]

Urgent | Qatari Foreign Ministry: *The ceasefire in Gaza will begin at 8:30 a.m. Sunday local time*

Please support my campaign, contribute and donate to me, friends....

!! We deserve life!! If you are free and feel humanity, donate to us and help us, you are our last hope

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #370 )✅️

@90-ghost @palhelp

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[horrorgirlreads]

TBR tag game

Rules: Share 9 books you read last year and 9 books you're looking forward to reading this year.

Tysm for the tag @writeouswriter! And also @merricatly who tagged me to do something very similar (just the 9 books to read this year, I believe)

I rated 9 books 5 stars in 2024:

1. The Cassandra Complex by Holly Smale. Fave book of the year. Autistic author and main character. Time travel. Was 10/10 highly recommend!

2. Vicious by V.E. Schwab. This book just had all the hits for me. Dark academia, complicated characters, messed up powers.

3. The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. Absolute classic. Super easy to read

4. Some Like it Cold by Elle Mcnicoll. Another book with an autistic author and main character. Very cute holiday season romcom book.

5. Girl Unmasked: How Uncovering My Autism Saved My Life by Emily Katy. Non fiction autobiography. I subscribe to Emily's blog Authentically Emily where she talks about her experiences as a young MH nurse with autism and ADHD so I was very excited to read her book. Her posting about her journey to diagnosis was very helpful during mine.

6. All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir. Very dark and moving. Incredibly real.

7. The Study of Magic by Maria V Snyder. Other character pov during the second book of my all time favourite series. This world and these characters are such a comfort to me.

8. Looking After Your Autistic Self by Niamh Garvey. Another non fiction book. This one was full of tips and strategies that I found very helpful and use in my day to day life.

9. Keedie by Elle Mcnicoll. Follow up to her book A Kind of Spark, focusing on my favourite character from that story.

9 books I want to read in 2025

I'm including my current read here as I've only just started it

I tag @xsleepyphiliax @readingfolklore @cre8iveovadose @battywitch @howlsmovinglibrary @hobbiesovercoffee @thereadingtimelady @nerdishfeels @petitepancakes

[raiswanson]

Last Sentence Tag

Rules: post the last sentence you wrote and tag a person for each word

tagged by @tundra-tiger and what a joy that is, because for once I left off an a line that's actually really fun by itself lol. (and also because tag game yesss tag me in tag games I love this shit I DON'T ALWAYS DO THEM BUT I LOVE THEM PLEASE YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND--)

A head lurked but a stone-skip away, snake-like and crowned with snowy white owl feathers, roughly the size of a plough horse.

I don't have that many names in my tag list but fuck the rules anyway I tag who I want: @lady-redshield-writes @writeouswriter @incandescent-creativity @ren-c-leyn @jesse-is-inarguably-purple @inkandkeyboard @etjwrites @jaimistoryteller @universalfanfic and humbly requesting another line from @tundra-tiger, if you have another one ready uwu

[oh-no-another-idea]

Last line tag

Thank you so much for the very old tag, @artdecosupernova-writing! Here's the latest Invisible Girl bit:

“Maybe I did.” Paris bit his lip; a move that fascinated Velia. She tried it herself, teeth dragging indents in her bottom lip, the feeling of that plush flesh stuck there where it could be punctured, shredded.

@flowerprose @writinglittlebeasts @nopoodles @thewriteflame @writeouswriter @aether-wasteland-s @drchenquill and anyone who sees this -- no pressure but share a line if you feel like it!