Are These Memories Just Open Doors For The Past? @izzylovesyou2022 - Tumblr Blog

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“Gretzky had it, lost it, Yzerman picks it up. Yzerman moving, blue line chance…SCORE! STEVE YZERMAN! DETROIT WINS!” This is a moment that…

My article on the history of the Detroit Red Wings

#detroit red wings #nhl #nhl history #sports history group #history #articles #medium.com #medium #sports articles #hockey history #detroit history

I'm not saying what the USA male players did was right and maybe this is me being optimistic but I tend to laugh in awkward situations at things people say and I will especially laugh when they say something so out of whack because I'm in shock. Does anyone else think that's why some (maybe not all, but some) of the players were laughing when T*ump said those things?

#usa hockey #usa mens hockey #usa womens hockey #milano cortina 2026 #gold medals #optimism

Hello, my friends! I don't know if any of you remember me. It's been SO LONG since I've been on this tumblr. I've been so busy with school and work and life. I've missed y'all

Tagging: @starry-hughes @uluvjay @andrebearakovsky @andreisvechnikov @hockeypuckedmeup @leafs-lover @starshine-hockey-girl @matsbarzal @barzysunflower @barzal-mat @barzel13 @miracleonice87 @spookysvech @hoesforthecanes @taking-shots @fallinallincurls

Reblog this if I can do one of the following:

-talk about my OC in your inbox

-ask you questions about your OC

-talk about my novel in your inbox

-ask you about your novel

-submit a piece of my novel into your inbox

#writerscafe #writers #writerblr #writers on tumblr #romance writer #writing

sarahlizziewrites

Writeblr for newbies

So you joined Tumblr to talk about your writing. Maybe you're published and you want to promote your works, or maybe you're wanting a supportive community of fellow writers, or maybe you're just writing for the hell of it and want to show the world your blorbos.

Welcome!!

Being a part of the writing side of Tumblr is a little bit like being in kindergarten and all the kids are talking about their imaginary friends to each other. Except some of the kids have published stories about their imaginary friends in real books you can buy. It's so cool.

I have made some wonderful friends on Writeblr, I've ARC'd and beta'd books for people, and I've gotten a lot of warm fuzzies from sharing my snippets and my characters. It's somewhere between self-promo and group therapy, but it doesn't feel like either. It feels like a wonderful community of writers supporting each other.

The Writeblr lingo can seem a little intense at first so I thought I'd set up a guide. If I've missed anything lmk!

WIP - stands for 'work in progress' (plural: WIPs). Any piece of writing (or poetry, or any kind of art) that isn't completed yet. This might be the first draft of a story, or the nth draft of your novel, or the not-yet-posted chapter of the fanfiction you're writing. WIP is a state of mind: it might be nearly complete, or it might just be an idea with a few hundred words attached to it. Talk about it as much or as little as you want.

WIP intro - a totally optional (and honestly a lot of hard work sometimes lol) post explaining the main themes/background/plot/characters of your WIP. Something you can link people to so they good a good idea of your WIP and what it's about. Similarly, character intro, for individual characters within a WIP, often with art/picrews.

Tag game - the lifeblood of Writeblr! In its most basic form, someone tags you in a game, you play the game, then tag other people you want to play the game. Lots of people do 'open tags', which you can also pick up. These games can range from making picrews of your characters to posting a snippet or multiple snippets. A few common ones at the moment (these change often!) are: Find the Word (the tagger gives you words to find in your WIP, you post a short snippet for each word, then give the people you tag new words to find); Last Line (you post the last line(ish) you wrote, or wrote recently); 9 Lines 9 People (post 9(ish) recent lines, tag 9(ish) people). There are so many more, and new ones being created all the time.

Blorbo - your OC (original character) that lives in your mind rent-free. The one(s) you would commit war crimes for. You know the one I'm talking about. In addition, blorbo trading and sharing is encouraged in the Writeblr community.

Ask game - a post that you reblog, usually containing a list of prompts or questions, that encourages your followers to ask those questions in your ask box. It is friendly to drop an ask from the game to the person you reblogged the post from.

Weekly asks - if you've asked to take part, questions about your writing in your inbox, related to a certain day of the week. There's Worldbuilding Wednesday (WBW), which are questions about worldbuilding, Blorbo Blursday (OC questions), and Storyteller Saturday (STS), questions about writing in general. These questions can be very generic and vague, or can be about specific characters/stories.

Pinned Post - basically, an 'about' page. Talk about yourself, your WIPs, the kinds of things you like, whether you want to be involved in Writeblr games, whether your asks are open. You don't need one, but it can be a handy reference point for your followers.

Taglist - sometimes, Tumblr posts get lost on the dash. If you are interested in a particular WIP, ask the author if you can be put on their taglist, so you can get notified every time they post about it. They will love you for it, seriously!

Overall, on Writeblr, it is always encouraged:

to talk about your stories and characters as much as you like. People might not follow along at first, but they'll get on board!

to reblog others' writing/snippets/promo. We're all relying on each other for our sanity here, and a nice comment in the tags never goes amiss either!

I'm sure I've missed something - feel free to add!

pinkevilwriter

They say when a person dies, they take a piece of your heart with them. You are no longer whole; you’re only half of what you used to be, because there’s a hole in your heart. The hole in your heart can’t be filled by anyone else because it’s not their space.

I can’t speak about you in past tense. I speak about you as if you were still here. It’s easier to pretend that everything is normal, because facing the reality of you not being here is not a pain I know how to handle. I’m usually the logical one, I’m usually the one that knows the answer, but I don’t know the answer this time, and this is new territory for me. So, instead of figuring out an answer that fits into reality, I instead speak your name, and say that I’m going to visit you, but what I really mean is visiting your grave.

It’s been two months since your tragic and unexpected end and the pain is still as fresh as the day I found out. We had plans to leave this town, you and I, and move to another state, where I could expand my music career and you could chase your dreams of being a doctor. Now, my dreams have shattered, and I don’t want to leave, because you are my anchor that keeps me here. If I leave this town, that means leaving you, and you’re not someone I want to let go of.

I breathe out a sigh and lean my head back against my bedroom wall. My guitar was strapped over my shoulder, but I wasn’t playing it. I had just finished the song I’d written for you last night, but now, I had no desire to send it out into the world. Why should I when you wouldn’t be there to hear it?

Luca. Your name meant light in Latin. You were my light, my beacon that guided my ship to safe waters, and my candle that flickered in the darkness. Without you, I’m covered in darkness, and I don’t know where to turn to next. You had never left me stumbling in the dark before, but now, you were gone, and I had no one to guide me.

I strummed my guitar absentmindedly and moved off the wall so I could sit at the table. The table you had designed for me months earlier, which you’d carved out of oak wood. It had taken you a few weeks to get the design just right, because you said you wanted nothing but the best for me.

I strummed my guitar again and looked up through the sunroof of my apartment. The sun was shining brightly down on me, as if you were listening to every word I said, and could hear all of my thoughts. If you were here, you’d be begging me to sing my song for you, and as I stared into the sun, I could almost hear your voice, musically rich and full of life, gently encouraging me to play it.

I glanced down at the sheet of paper sitting on the table in front of me, the one which held all of the words I wish I could say to you right now, and leaned forward. You’d lean forward with me and stare at me, fascinated and patiently waiting to hang onto every word I say.

I sighed again and pulled the paper closer to me. I had memorized all of the lyrics the day before, but I had a sudden urge to look at them again, as if to burn them into my eyes. I wanted to sing this out-loud for you.

I took a deep breath and looked down at my guitar, strumming the song I’d written for you, not quite ready to sing the words, but knowing that you’d want me too.

~Writer Anon

This writing is amazing and it feels so real!

bardic-tales

I collapsed onto the floor of my bedroom, tears rolling down my cheeks. My heart was racing faster than a bullet train and I was shaking so badly, if someone had seen me, they would have thought I was an earthquake. My body shook with every deep breath I tried to take and I couldn’t control any of my movements.

I wasn’t to scream, I wanted to yell, I wanted to curse, but I couldn’t, the shortness of breath wouldn’t allow me to do that.

It had been six months since you left me and the pain wasn’t getting any easier. I still couldn’t accept that you were gone. I knew you were gone, it was logic, but I didn’t want to deal with logic, I wanted to deal with you.

As I fought to calm myself down, I heard your voice. At first I thought I was hearing things, your voice couldn’t still be here, but then I heard my name. That was your voice calling my name.

I looked up and saw you standing there, in the green t-shirt and jean shorts, which is what you’d been wearing when you had died.

I gasped and tried to stand up, but my legs didn’t want to work with me.

“Luca,” I choked out, staring at you, at the green eyes that I always got lost in, at the smile that still made my stomach do flip-flops.

You knelt down in front of me and wiped a few tears away from my cheeks.

“Phoenix, you need to move on.”

I stared at you in shock. Move on? From you? Why?

As if you’d read my mind, you took both of my hands in yours and sighed.

“You will still always have love for me. I don’t want you to think that I want you to forget about me. But you have to let me go. You have to move on, live your dream of getting married and having children. I’m sorry for leaving you, I never wanted to leave. But we can’t change it now. I will always be with you, I know that your heart will never be the same again, but please move on. Don’t spend all your tears on me. I’m always with you, okay?”

~Writer Anon

Hello again, Writer Anon. I have to say that these are bangers. 💙

Your writing absolutely gutted me in the best way. The way you described the panic, the grief, and that almost supernatural moment of comfort was so vivid and intimate. I felt like I was right there with Phoenix. The dialogue with Luca hit especially hard. It was gentle, heartbreaking, and full of love. You have a gift for turning emotion into something tangible on the page.

bardic-tales

I glanced down at the calendar and sighed. This was the day you’d asked me to be your girlfriend and I couldn’t celebrate it without you.

What were you doing up there? Were you talking about me to the angels? Were you telling them about the smile that always made you smile in return? Were you talking about my laugh, the one I hated but you always loved? Were you talking about the way I jumped into your arms when I hadn’t seen you for a while? Were you talking about the late night conversations we had about life?

I grabbed the necklace you’d gotten me for my 19th birthday and sighed. That had been a cold day, I remember, but you made me feel so warm.

You told me this was a promise necklace. A promise that would follow me wherever I went. A promise that you’d never leave my side. A promise that your heart would always search for mine.

You broke your promise to me, Luca. My heart and soul went with you when I found out that you were gone. Gone because of a drunk driver. Gone because he didn’t pay enough attention to the road and you became a causality.

He’s in jail, serving a life sentence, but that’s a small comfort.

You were my brightest star, the one that showed me the path when I got lost, and now, you’re my most depressing thought, because you aren’t here anymore.

I can’t even listen to our songs anymore because all they do is make me sad. Maybe someday I’ll be able to listen to them without sobbing, but now is not the right time.

~Writer Anon

Hello, Writer Anon. Thank you so much for sending this in . I hope you are having a wonderful day or night.

I want to say that I loved this. Your writing is incredibly evocative. It captures the ache of loss and the lingering presence of love with such honesty. The emotion is raw and beautiful, and it will stay with me long after today.