I see these for artists and wanted something for my writing! Empty template below if anyone else wants to do it too!
Very proud of myself for writing as much as I did this year 👏 especially coming out of years of perfection paralysis. Started out small with snippets to writing full chapters.
Next year I hope to write a full draft of an original story 🎉
It was a random thought that the parents of my main characters had a threesome (the fathers are twins and fell in love with the same woman), and that caused most of the problems, but now I’m like.. ok what’s goin on there
I came across this beautiful art on x, so half asleep not thinking much I wrote a lil smth I was inspired by
The ceaseless thundering of the waves rolling to and fro onto the wet sand sets the air in high energy. Without so much as your own bud of wings, you’re left to stand on a conch shell out of reach lest they drag you in.
Though, you suppose that wouldn’t be entirely ill-fated, you think as you take a seat with crossed legs. Maybe the sea would lead you out to him, and you could watch his transformation yourself. But you know that isn’t the way.
Under the bright sun and cool roiling breeze, you watch the waves as high as tsunamis to you crash and ebb, giving and taking in a cycle of life. One of these waves will give him back to you, wholly anew. You wonder what his wings will look like.
You don’t have to wonder for too much longer, as a crashing wave evening out against the sand reveals a figure rising from the water.
His wings are blue, you notice first. Tears well in your eyes as you can’t help but smile as big as the sun. He’s beautiful.
You get to your feet and wave as high as you could. “Zydras!”
Even from afar, you can tell how he lights up at the sight of you waiting for him. His wings are steady, but his disorientation from incubation is still apparent, as if the waves are carrying more than just water to you.
Breaching the shore, the full body of his wings become clear. They’re a living blue containing the stars on a clear night, growing deeper to the edges into a rimmed black.
Your heart overflows for him, and you instinctively reach out your arms, and he flies right to you. He takes you into his arms with joyful laughter into your hair.
“I’ve been given back. Missed me?”
You hold him with all your might in the hopes your joy seeps into him. “The whole day.”
The early morning sun filtered through the sparse trees and dappled the sight of Humanity's Strongest herding chickens.
The prospect seemed feasible at first, though it appeared chickens should be no less underestimated than titans.
Housing the wild chickens for eggs was a spontaneous idea and so far had only been met with pain.
It was difficult to bite back a laugh each time you caught a glimpse of him as you conducted your own search around the back of the cabin. Your job to find materials to build a pen had been far less painful.
Late spring heat clung to the fabric on your back and accumulated moisture to wipe from your brow.
