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#bad writer
angry-children · 4 months
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yay. writing.
Picking up this garbage again ..
I'll write CxC if it's canon, no smut, angst definite, fluff sure. I don't do OCs.
I write for Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel, Undertale, Transformers (Bayverse) when I feel like it, Legend of Zelda (AoC, BoTW, ToTK only until I finish the other games), Splatoon (2: DSM or 3), Trolls (2 or 3), Marvel (sometimes..). For FNF, I literally will only write for Ruvyzvat or Sarvente. Yay. I also write for RoTTMNT.
Characters, HH: I'll write for all the staff members (platonic only for Niffty), Lucifer, the Vee's, and some of the overlords (the exceptions of the unnamed ones, the Eldritches, and Missi Zilla), and I don't write for the angels. HB: I'll write for IMP, Beelzebub and Asmodeus, the Ars Goetia, and Fizzarolli. I'll write for anyone in Undertale, but Monster Kid is platonic, Transformers (Bayverse) I won't write for any decepticons/terrorcons because again, I'm boring, LoZ, I'll write for everyone, not king Rhoam and Yunobo, and platonically for Tulin. though. Splatoon, I'll write for Off the Hook, Squidbeak Splatoon (both of them), and Agent 8. Trolls, I'll write anyone in the second movie besides the rock trolls and the country trolls, for the third movie I won't write for Crimp, the Bergens, or Kid Ritz. RoTTMNT, i'll write for the turtles, April, and Casey.
Send requests. Please.
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nyamadermont · 1 year
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You Aren't Alone
#FFF191 You Aren't Alone
@flashfictionfridayofficial
Avatar: Legend of Korra
TW: childbirth
323 words
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[Image ID: Purple background with a lighter flare near the center. The text "#FFF191 You're Not Alone" is centered, in white.]
Silence prevailed, aside from the anguished groans of the mother. She had done this before, but it was not the same. There were no attentive women surrounding her. No experienced friends to hold her hands and rub her back.
There was no tub of water the temperature of blood and skin.
She leaned against the animal’s comforting side. Her husband crouched between her knees, his face alternating between concern, encouragement, and wonder.
Their isolation meant that he looked to her to tell him what to do. When their first child had been born, he had arrived just in time. She had been alone in a sea of people until he arrived, just before their son was born.
This time, she had to be her own midwife. She had to tell him what to do. She wanted him beside her, letting her hold his hand with all her might. She didn’t want to see his face staring back at her.
But at least this time, she was not alone.
When they had landed, she had sent him to gather water and build a fire. When he objected, she pointed out that soon, she wouldn’t let him leave her alone.
The next contraction gripped her, consuming her concentration. Only her voice escaped.
She knew it wouldn’t take much longer.
“I can see the head! You’re almost there! Push!”
She inhaled as if pulling energy itself into her body.
She pushed.
The baby emerged, covered in the water and blood of birth, lungs expanding for the first time. 
And cried. 
Katara knew.
Aang nearly dropped his newborn, so surprised by the sheer volume. He looked at the child and fell in love. He looked at his wife, and fell in love, again. 
Katara was crying. Aang was crying. The baby was crying. 
Katara reached for her baby, and gave her breast. She laughed weakly. “Aang, she bends air.”
She looked at him, “You aren’t alone anymore.”
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hiranmae · 4 months
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Tales of Love 
I wrote something while listening to Lyn Lapid's song, "the alternative" so I kinda decided to include it in my writing :)
Feelings… always so complicated
A heart… always so delicate
Scars… always so deep
And in the end is me, trying not to hurt any one of these.
The look in their eyes shows overwhelming emotions: respect, care and adoration. A bond unbreakable by outside forces. Words unspoken more than unsaid. But is that truly the case?
There’s a chance that this plane’s going down
But I don’t wanna stay on the ground
Expectations unclear, these conversations they never had bearing down on them. As to each their own, they saw different. Where one saw their life, their future, their everything. The other saw a true friend. 
Since I found myself another half
Part of me says, “Don’t get too attached”
Unpleasant conversation, words that he wished would have remained unsaid. Bitter rejection filling his mouth. Days pass by but the bitter feeling never past him. Yet still the same look in his eyes but now guised as friendliness. Labels he thought, so insignificant… he did not need these labels to show what he felt. 
In dim lights: a calm silence. A comfort outlived its welcome, one that was waiting to be broken. They sat there, in each other’s company. The scent of warm coffee inviting them to relax… Expectations unclear, these conversations they didn’t dare have unknowingly bearing down on them. As to each their own, they saw different. Where one hoped for their future, their life, their everything yet were aware it was just about to shatter. The other saw a true friend. 
What if time’s gonna number our days
Guess my heart’s gonna break, either way
Unpleasant conversations, words that she wished would have remained unheard. Bitter rejection filled her heart. The distance between their souls parallels their distance in life. In his eyes that always saw another, she hoped to find herself one day. She knew it was in vain, those eyes had never looked at her in the past few years… they wouldn’t suddenly be attracted to her. It was her fault, she had hoped but what else could she do. The bitterness wouldn’t go away even if she hadn’t tried.
Love is a risk
But what’s the alternative?
Lying in bed all day… Loneliness surrounds your existence like a warm blanket. It was comforting, a solitude in existence. Voice raspy due to lack of use, like a rusty machine. In the confines of the house, be yourself. Outside, a facade… A hole in your heart, waiting to be filled by someone you can let in. Everyday you watch the stories of others and console your heart by saying “at least it’s not bitter”.
Maybe sleeping at night all alone
Going it all on my own
(The song is “the alternative” by Lyn Lapid)
by Hiranmae~
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ringo100-blog1 · 11 months
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Episode one
So by no means am I a writer, in fact I’d say its one of the things I’m worst at, However I have this stupid idea rattling around in the vacuum I call a brain for a while now and I need it to go away. So here it goes, my critical analysis of the strategies and historical accuracy of the tank combat in Girls und Panzer.
In what I’m sure is going to be a very on brand moment, the first episode is a hard one to do combat analysis on because there is like maybe 5 minutes of action in the whole episode, the plus side is I only needed like half a page of notes. so we open on the main characters doing recon on the moving formation of the British schools tanks, First, the formation they are in while maybe not common in actual combat was not terrible, a flying V with the heavy armor tank in front to draw fire is clever in two ways, if a tank gets destroyed the can keep moving unlike in a column, and also the degrees of vision provided would be pretty excellent. Second, dismounting to do recon was a common and well thought out strategy during the war, unfortunately it is countered by the fact that the tanks were not very well concealed and one of them is BRIGHT FUCKING PINK. The colors of the main tanks is so frustrating. They made their weakest tank the biggest target and the stealthy tank killer is bright red and has tall flags plastered all over it. Moving on from that, their commander decides that because their AP rounds wont penetrate the enemy armor (which the Hetzer should absolutely be able to) the should use a decoy and ambush them, which is actually a pretty genius idea, but before I give too much credit the commander proves that she is too naïve at the moment by remaining turned out (sticking her head out of the hatch) while leading the enemy away and being shot at. It is insinuated that she gets fucking nailed btw. The only other thing of note to happen is a brilliant example of propaganda when the student  council plays a PR reel about the tank club.   
As stated I’m not a writer, but I hope this wasn’t a total mess of a post.
Till next time,
-R
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When youre in the beginning or middle of a fic series but youre feeling inspired to skip a bunch the current wip and a bunch of middle stories and write the end of it...
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damn time travel plot is too tempting.
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shapedforfighting · 1 year
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Gonna try out Bad Writer, because if I'm not writing, I might as well be pretending I am
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thedarkplume · 2 years
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So, Saturday I bought this game from the Nintendo Switch store titled, Bad Writer
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It's priced at $5.99 and I played it Sunday, when I got home from work. This is how the game opens
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There are only three characters in this game, Emily, her wife Cleo, and their cat Meowphistopheles. Emily is easily distracted based on the choices you make and suffers from depression if she lets a day pass without writing, if she visits social media, if she gets a rejection letter, and if she doesn't get any type of email response from a publication.
It's a fun game and damn does it hits close to home with the ups and downs of being a struggling writer in the age of Kindle and streaming apps!
I feel like the game is too short. Once Emily publishes a couple of her stories, there should be a second part that has her tackling the decision to write a novel. She should have more locations to explore as well. A bookstore or library. A internet cafe or coffee shop. She should lose herself grocery shopping or spending the day running errands with Cleo. Or maybe have a long vet appointment for her cat.
My point is, there are so many little things we do as writers that can easily sidetrack us from getting that story finished or even started. I'm speaking from experience on both finishing and starting!
It's a cute little game that I recommend to everyone because we all know exactly how Emily feels.
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badpoetryinc · 2 years
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#BadPoetry #poem #poet #poets #poetry #Bukowski #Edgarallenpoe #bayarea #wordology #emopoetry #horrorpoetry #writersofinstagram #badwriting #badwriters
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montanabohemian · 10 months
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if i see a single one of you pissed that your faves canceled an event or a con appearance because they're striking for fair wages then imma come for you in your sleep 🔪🔪🔪
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(direct that fury where it belongs: AMPTP and the execs)
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me writing angst: haha this is fun I hope someone cries reading it
me when my favorite show has even the slightest bit of angst: OH NO
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wispscribbles · 2 months
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still breathing ☀️
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angry-children · 3 months
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CAN YOU WRITE AN ANGST FIC WHERE RUV BEATS THE SHIT OUT OF SARV
oh what ok bro guess we're breaking the promise haha
Synopsis > Sarvente does some shit and Ruvyzvat whoops her ass.
C/W > ab.se basically.
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Ruvyzvat was a temperamental man, that was for sure. It wasn't exactly uncommon for him to get angry, and out of all people, Sarvente knew this the best. The nun knew her childhood friend, and knew how out of hand things could get, she had witnessed all of it firsthand. Currently, he was in another state of fury, mainly due to some heckler in today's service, and the worst part? Sarvente didn't go by the one thing he told her to, why wouldn't she ever listen? Some people just won't shut up, and he told her that the next time some hard-headed идиот popped up to silence them herself, but no, she never listened, in one ear, out the other. Ruvyzvat was mad, he didn't try to show it, but it was obvious by the way he was carrying himself post-mass, walking towards the chapel to "speak" to Sarvente.
"Sarvente."
His voice echoed in the vacant room, deep and coarse. Hearing her name, she looked up to see him, absolutely fuming.
"Ruv? What did you need, my f-"
She was cut off, didn't have enough time to react before she saw her "friends'" hand comd up and make contact with her cheek. It stung, but only for a moment. Another one of those days.
"You need to stop taking дерьмо from strangers."
"Ruv-"
Again.
"Do you understand what i'm saying, Sarvente? You cannot let people ignore your words, treat you like dirt."
"Yes, I do."
She replied quietly, gaze flickering away from his. Look who's talking.
How did this ever even start happening, when had he started treating her this way? When did she start allowing him?
...
Standing alone is better than standing with people who hurt you.
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word count: 277
a/n: if you or anyone you know are being abused or domestically violenced, know that you are not alone. you don't have to sit and take it. call 800-799-7233 for assistance.
translations:
идиот - idiot
дерьмо - shit
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hashtagloveloses · 10 months
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the hollywood studios are the dumbest people alive bc now every american city with a large film/TV industry (LA, NYC, Atlanta, etc) are going to be overrun by grown up theatre kids (professional writers and actors) hanging out together in public for months on end with nothing to do but emulate newsies. whole american cities are about to look like the inside of a suburban dennys at 11 pm on a saturday after a high school musical closes. they have trapped millions of people in a hell of unimaginable proportions.
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lyralit · 1 year
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traits turned sour
honest - insensitive
persuasive - manipulative
caring - overprotective
confidence - arrogance
fearless - cocky
loyalty - an excuse
devotion - obsession
agreeable - lazy
perfectionism - insatisfaction
reserved - aloof
cautious - skeptical
self loved - selfish
available - distractible
emotional - dramatic
humble - attention-seeking
diligent - imposing
dutiful - submissive
assertive - bossy
strategic - calculated
truthful - cruel
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tavina-writes · 17 days
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horrible news: in order for you to finish a wip, you have to work on that wip and not the 2543524 other wips you were brainrotting over instead of that one. more investigations at 7.
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thevioletcaptain · 1 year
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i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.
it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.
it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)
it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.
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