The Writer’s Room

The place where I dump my writing projects and random thoughts, She/Her pronouns ~

[f-e-aye]

Does anyone know any ways to force yourself to complete a WIP because I am struggling. I should have been able to finish this three days ago but for some reason my brain won’t catch up.

Any help or strategies would be extremely helpful. Something to help me finally finish this project.

[f-e-aye]

Pizza Time

The steady, consistent tapping of the knife on the chopping board matched almost exactly to the beat of the music playing in the background. As the choice meats and vegetables were chopped, Alice finished stirring the bowl and rolled up her sleeves.

“Remember to take off the wedding ring, hon, we don’t want to ruin it do we?” Alice turned her head to meet her wife’s eyes.

“I will Mia, don’t worry,” she said removing the ring and placing it carefully on the side. She plunged her hands into the dough, it stuck to her palms and in between her fingers. Alice attempted to to gather it all up into a ball, but it kept falling apart; one glob of dough gathered while another fell off, but Alice was determined. It was only at the sound of Mia’s laughter that she finally stopped her hopeless endeavour.

“I don’t know why it keeps doing that,” she complained to Mia, who was still laughing. Mia grabbed the flour and walked over to her.

“This is why I do the cooking.” Mia shook her head teasingly, “Take your hands out.” Alice let the dough fall off her hands back into the bowl, Mia helping her scrape off as much as they could off what remained stuck to her hands. Once it was all settled Mia took a handful of flour and sprinkled it onto the dough. “That should make it easier,” she grasped at Alice’s sticky hands, looking over the small pieces of dough still stuck to her fingers with a fond smile. “I have always said that lighter colours work well with your dark skin tone,” Alice laughed.

“Thank you darling, I’ll just throw out my whole wardrobe.” Alice gathered up the dough again, mixing in the extra flour while returning her wife’s smile. When the dough properly resembled a ball, Mia felt it was safe to leave her unsupervised for long enough to gather the toppings. By the time she had done that, Alice was already gliding a rolling pin over the dough-ball to form the flatted base.

“Looking good hon, the pizza’s not too bad either.” Mia wrapped her arm around Alice’s shoulder and placed a small kiss onto her cheek. Alice nudged her away with a laugh.

“Shut up and get the cheese.” After dumping out more cheese than was healthy onto the base, the two spent twenty minutes carefully arranging every single toppings until everything was just right. Finally, they placed the finished project in the oven and set the timer. To pass the time, the two decided to dance, holding each other close they swayed and spun and dipped and laughed. Time faded to nothing in each other’s embrace, until the timer they had set rudely interrupted their routine.

The pizza had cooked to perfection, toppings looked delicious, cheese stringed beautifully as Mia cut the slices. Alice reached for the plates and split the pizza, making sure to open the kitchen door to let their puppy back into the house.

“Has he been fed?” Mia asked.

“Yeah, he’ll still beg for food though,” Alice replied. “Come on, let’s start the film.”

[f-e-aye]

Hey everyone, the story post for July might end up being skipped this time as my beloved childhood cat has passed away over the weekend and naturally I need a bit of time to process this.

I will be okay but I need some time.

RIP my beautiful baby, I love and miss you forever and always.

[luna-azzurra]

Just spent 45 minutes researching what a specific street in a city smells like in october so i could write the word "damp." the word is in the final draft. it is doing its job. it cost me 45 minutes and a mild obsession with historical weather records. worth it. the word is perfect. you would not believe how hard i worked on that word.

[luna-azzurra]

Tips for writing Abandoned Hospitals

✮ The smell arrives before anything visual does. Always before. Decades-old antiseptic that never fully evaporated, black mold, particulate plaster, and something underneath all of that you will not name. Your character detects it from the parking lot. Do not skip this. Writers skip this constantly. Smell is 70% of fear. If your character walks in and immediately describes what they SEE, you have already lost the reader's stomach. Fix it.

✮ Long hospital corridors are acoustic funnels. A door swinging on a corroded hinge forty feet away sounds, physiologically and neurologically, like it is directly behind your character. It is not. But they don't know that yet. And more importantly: they can't immediately tell the difference.

✮ Original floor tiles: white hexagons, many cracked, grout gone grey-black with decades of something. Footsteps echo differently on intact vs. cracked tile. Your character will begin unconsciously stepping around the cracked ones without deciding to. Write it as unconscious. Don't give them the decision.The body knows things the mind hasn't processed.

✮ Nurses' stations have the room call-board still mounted. Metal slots, room numbers, some still containing names on yellowed paper in faded handwriting. Perfectly legible. Your character should read one name specifically. A real first and last name. This is what grounds supernatural dread in human scale. The horror of a ghost is always the horror of the specific person who became one.

✮ Do not have your character open a patient file and find something horrifying written in it. That is lazy and everyone does it. The horror in the file is that it is completely routine: a 54-year-old man admitted for a hip replacement in 1987, three pages of unremarkable medical notes in a nurse's tidy handwriting, then nothing. No discharge date. No transfer. Just nothing. The nothing is the story. Let the reader ask the question. Don't answer it.

✮ Operating theaters are always on upper floors. The surgical table is still there. They never take the table. In real abandoned hospitals, across multiple countries, documented cases: they always leave the table. Your character should wonder why no one took the table. Do not have a character explain why no one took the table. Some questions should stay questions.

✮ The morgue is in the basement. This is always true. The drawer handles are still there. Your character's hand will move toward one of them. Write this as involuntary. The hand goes first. The decision to stop, or not stop, comes second. We don't choose our curiosity; we choose whether to follow it.

✮ The drawers are not all empty. Not because of anything supernatural. Because animals nest in sheltered spaces in abandoned buildings, and a heavy insulated metal drawer that latches shut is extremely sheltered. Your character knows this. They do not think of this until after they've opened one.

[mysticrhythmss]

The way I literally jump out of the depression anxiety mess and into the Motivational Quote Girlboss Bitch once my period hits and the PMDD recedes for another month never fails to floor me

[nondelphic]

the document is open. the energy is hostile. send help ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

[f-e-aye]

The blank page feels so much worse than not even trying

[autiebiographical]

This Pride, let's remember our roots. Pride started as a riot against discrimination, oppression, and police brutality. Our rights are being taken away, and the only way we'll get them back is to stand up for ourselves.

Pride isn't just to celebrate, it's to protest.

[f-e-aye]

Lost One's Weeping

Of all the people who could have been on the other side of that door, why did it have to be you? All those years since you vanished, since anyone had seen you, thinking you were dead, we mourned you. And yet, nearly fifteen years since that day, here you were alive and well. Smiling as if you’d simply been studying abroad and had just come back for the holidays, not back from the dead.

You looked older. I don’t know why that surprised me. Of course you’d be older, we weren’t fourteen anymore, time would have taken its course. I grew, why wouldn’t you? I just had the image of you as a teen, in my mind you hadn’t aged. You were taller, more defined, you’d cut your hair short. It felt like hours I stood frozen at the sight of you, time stood still for an eternity. It was you who broke the silence.

“Surprise! You look like you’ve seen a ghost, although I suppose in a way you have.” Your smile was maliciously amused, enjoying my shock like you had waited years to see me like that - you had.

“Dylan, I- well - this is, I mean - I can’t believe you’re here.” I couldn’t get my words out, I didn’t know what to say. It’s funny to think about now because if I could go back there is so much more I would say. I have the whole speech in my mind, and still practice it every day even though you will never hear it. You only laughed at me, at my awkwardness.

“God, you can’t even talk properly anymore? Maybe all those blows to the head over the years did more damage than I thought.” You surprised me with your callousness. I had never heard you insult anyone before, let alone me, it shocked me at the time but now I’m surprised you never did before this. You should have. Maybe I could have realised how badly I was acting and stopped - I probably wouldn’t.

“Heh, no brain damage here, I don’t think I’d be able to work if I were.” I didn’t know how to respond, so I laughed. I treated this like a joke only because I didn’t yet understand what was really going on, if I did I wouldn’t have responded like that.

“No?” Your disappointment was evident, it was my last chance to potentially change the way this would go. My last test. I failed. Your face fell, eyes crinkled in anger, I wonder sometimes if things would have turned out differently if I has just apologised when I saw you. “So, you’re still the same bastard you were back in school.”

“Sorry?” I knew what you were talking about but I didn’t want to admit it even though there was no reason not to. There were no cameras in there, me and you both knew the truth, the only reason I didn’t was because of my pride. If only I had just admitted it.

“You know, I wanted nothing to do with you at first, I avoided you. It took someone else to point out all the lies you were telling the public about me and you, the way we grew up. You told them all about the early years but you conveniently ‘forgot’ about what happened after your ability manifested and I didn’t get one. It pissed me off at the time but I had other things to do, clients orders to fill, you know the drill. I’d probably still be doing that if not for you.” You paused, waiting for me to piece it together myself. I didn’t then, I couldn’t have known, not that I tried, my mind was blank. I doubt you’d actually expected me to because you answered yourself not a few seconds later.

“Remember a few months ago? You and a bunch of your colleagues raided our base and forced us to collapse. I think you were the one who arrested the big boss.”

“But,” the horror as my stomach dropped at that realisation, you were so close to me, and yet on the complete opposite side to me. To know that I had a hand in getting you here. I pushed you so far for no reason other than my pride. “We caught everyone involved with that group, there was no sign of anyone else.” You smiled, letting out a small laugh.

“I’ve gotten pretty good at hiding over the years, you gave me a good head-start at school.” The malicious gleam in your eyes as you glared at me told me more than your smile did. I remembered running through the school halls searching for you, some days we couldn’t find you, some days we would. Those were the bad days, sometimes you would still have fading bruises from the last time we found you.

“Then why change that now?” I can’t imagine those months after the raid were easy from you, the life you’d built from nothing after I’d chased you away, destroyed by the very same person who destroyed everything you had before. “You got away, why tell me knowing I’ll have to arrest you?” Your glare bore through my soul, you were quiet and final.

“No, you won’t.”

“I can’t make an exception for you, I have to take you in.” I had every intention to. Anything to get your eyes off me and away from my guilt.

“And risk damaging your precious reputation? I don’t think so,” you laughed. “Because I’ll tell them, and I won’t leave a single injury out. How do you think your adoring fans will react when they find out what a horrible person you really are?” My silence lasted too long to not be noticed.

“Well, then,” I stumbled over my words, trying to find the best way to respond. “Maybe I can just walk away and you can go back to wherever you’ve been for the past few months.” It was the wrong thing to say, I knew it even then but my damn pride couldn’t put my image aside to do the right thing, you knew this. I played into your hand.

You won’t do that either,” You were calm and composed this time, not at all surprised at my stupidity.

“Why not?” I was indignant, even knowing I was wrong. I had dug my grave years ago and you’d still given me extra chances to not fall in. I still failed.

“Did you forget what I wrote in the letter I sent you? I told you I have a way to poison everyone here!” You had broken your composure, my underestimation of you had shocked you. Even now, even when you had held a gun to my head I still couldn’t see your threat. “Did you think I was joking?” I always did, I never took you seriously. “I have standards, I couldn’t just say that and not actually do it.” I winced at that.

“So I walk away and you kill everyone here?”

“Pretty much.”

“I don’t want to fight you.”

“Too bad, cause I really do.”

You threw your fist at my head so fast I almost didn’t see it coming. I raised my arm blocking you a split second before you made contact. A sharp pain shot from my ankle and I collapsed. It still moved, I could still stand. I didn’t prepare for this, if a fight were to happen I’d usually use their own ability against them. But you had none for me to copy. As I stood a force knocked me back to the floor, I didn’t realise it was you until I was already down. The crack that followed pulled me back. My stomach turned as I saw my leg swollen, pointing at an odd angle. My heart dropped as your hands closed around my neck.

“I’ve known you for too long, but you really haven’t changed. Think you’re a god because of your ability? Doesn’t work with me though, does it?” I didn’t listen to a lot of your ramblings as I clawed at your hands, kicking up with my good leg. Spots started clouding my vision and my chest burned. You let go. I coughed, taking deep breaths as you walked away to the release button. I couldn’t let you reach it, you have to know that, you were the one who didn’t take mu knife away. The moment it left my hand, time slowed. It arced through the air, spinning as it flew before embedding itself directly into your heart.

Your sharp intake of breath before you collapsed was the most deafening thing I had ever heard, until it was drowned out by the thud of your body hitting the ground. I scrambled over to you, your shallow breaths and warm blood pooling around you, coating me wherever it touched, the only indicators of life. Life slowly ebbing away.

I begged, I pleaded and cried, prayed to anything that might be capable of saving you, but none answered. You died that night, in my arms. I did that, no matter how the media hails me for preventing a mass poisoning, I know that the incident was entirely my fault. I’m alive and I killed you. This ended in death because of my betrayal of you. I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life. I know my flowers don’t make up for anything, but it’s all I can do now. I hope one day, when I meet you again, I’ll finally be able to speak to you properly. You’ll probably still hate me, but I’ll do what I can with the time I have left to make it up to you.

[disorientation]

Having a "stupider people have done this" attitude about the things you want to do can open so many doors

[sapphia]

i needed this because i find doors very difficult sometimes

[moninils]

And all of this at once.

[bythelynx]

Nothing is wasted on a writer.

Not words. Not silence. Not even people.

[f-e-aye]

My house

I have stayed in this place for centuries. Few are brave enough to bother me anymore. Those who do never stay for long, adults and teenagers alike. A party of thrill-seekers will attempt to stay overnight, with their cameras, tripods and recorders. They come seeking horror and ghostly footage, if it will keep them here I will provide. People mostly come to be scared, if I must be a monster in order to stay here, to keep my rare visitors, I will.

Occasionally someone seeking shelter will enter my walls, most of them are fully grown, recently evicted, with no family or friends to turn to, and nowhere else left to go. I let these ones stay a while, eventually they all move on. Sometimes these ones will attempt to perform immoral and illicit activities. I always drive them in and keep them there until authorities can show up. They never return. Sometimes young children find their way to me, children with bruises no child should have, carrying pain no one should endure. These ones stay as long as they require. I do what I can to help and not scare them. I send these ones to charities, people who can help these children. Some of them do return after years with families of their own, they tell me of their stories and their lives. They do well.

Today is a mixture of all of them. They are not yet adults, most have cameras and they have sleeping bags. A small party of six thrill-seeking youngsters, wanting a ghost story to share with the world. There may be no ghost, but I will provide evidence of one anyway. However, one of the six, a relatively normal looking young lady, she has the sinister feeling of the ones who come here for immoral purposes. As she walks through the front door into my domain I can see the glint of metal from her bag, a weapon she intends to use on the other’s in her party.

These children are endangered by one of their own, and it seems like I am the only one who has noticed. Who would suspect a vicious attack from a friend? I watch as she plays her role, smiling and laughing as they set up their cameras. They are all unaware of her true intent, I must warn them somehow, tell them to leave, but how? The TV? They’re set up near the antique device that has long since been out of use, but it’s mine. I send the power through the old frayed wiring. Static flickers across the screen and I flick through the thousands of images and sounds until I could scramble together a message for them; a voice saying to leave, a woman screaming, a knife, a pool of blood, another voice telling them to run. They would listen, they had to.

They didn’t. They laughed, pointed their cameras at the TV, made jokes. They are in danger, the girl with the weapon is laughing at the idea she would kill them. What to do? If they won’t leave they will die. If I scare then away, would she kill them elsewhere? Will she try again? She might. Perhaps I shouldn’t let her leave then, it’s safer for her to stay here where I can deal with her. I will do everything within my power to stop her. I reroute the power again, this time the static delivered my message to her; I won’t let you kill them, you will not leave my domain. I lock all the exits, windows and doors alike. She will stay here as long as required to stop her.

The rest of her party are still laughing at the TV, they do not notice the exits being sealed. She does though. Her head darts around the room, she knows I had caught her, but she doesn’t know what I am. No one has figured it out yet, I doubt she will. I need to separate her from the group. How do I do that? The party came for ghosts. If I give them multiple things to document, they’ll split up. I can get her alone. I can deal with her by myself. If I hand her over to the authorities she won’t be charged, there’s no evidence of her plan, she will try again.

Six ghosts for a party of six ghost hunters, each in different sections of the house. They split up, holding their cameras. She attempts to follow one of the others, but I close and lock the door behind them so she can’t. She goes into her room instead, attempting to find a way to one of her targets. I lock her in. She panics, running from door to door to try and open one, banging her fists on them in a pitiful attempt to escape. She tires when no one hears her screams, crumbling to the ground. Perfect. This is what I waited for. The walls open up and skeletal hands grab for her. They drag her as she kicks and squirms and screams. Closer and closer to the abyss created in the space where the walls once were, she is dragged in by the skeletons of those trapped long before. The sacrifices to keep me strong.

She will never be found, not until I am demolished. They search for hours, but they never find her. The party mourns their friend, unknowing of what she almost did. Days, weeks, months, years pass by. There are more who come looking for ghosts, more thrill seekers. Some call her name. Calling to the skeleton in the walls.

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

If only…

Trauma Geek

[tundramammoth]

and studies done specifically IN ADULTS. Almost every study linking, for example, migraines and autism is done in kids, and so it is not helpful at all for older people who, guess what, are still autistic. It's especially not helpful for people with migraines, because they tend to develop later (migraines is my personal example cause it's what I'm researching rn)

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Thank you for sharing :)

[justanotherfanfolks]

Sorry if this is too hot a take, but come on!

[aspecmemesdaily]

Day 698

[aro-ace-culture-is]

aroace culture is just HATING whenever you get accused of having a crush on someone or god forbid dating them (in my case the latter for 2nd grade...be so fr I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE WORD GAY MEANT BACK THEN WTF-)

"oooh you're blushing! You're smiling!! You're lying he even said it himself!" shut up shut up shut up shut up-

(This happened today as of sending this ask during school btw...im very close to actually fucking losing it💖)

-🌈

.

[oceanamethyst]

y'all remember when you only had to tap once to leave an ad

[oceanamethyst]

do you guys remember when it didn't automatically take you to the app store

[sortingmyideas]

Back in my day the ads would leave you alone when you clicked a single X...