The end society
If you are a writer, reader or something in between feel free to join The end society. Here we encourage you to write like its the end.
Writing prompts, remember to @the-end-society us on posts written that are inspired by our prompts for a reblog. Include prompt used.
We will also be rebloging writers we come across that we think could do with some deserved attention.
Writing advice, feel free to send asks for any particular advice. Need a vision/moodboard? Character names? Plot ideas? Or are you having a block and need encouragement? We got you.
And discussions that range from sonnet's to satire topics. Discuss in the comments or write your prepective in a poem, essay, wip excerpt or other and @ us for a reblog. Feel free to start a topic in our asks or @the-end-society us.
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Sitting, playing cards,
Talking with my nephew,
Sipping iced tea,
Watching butterflies,
Fighting with someone,
Dreaming life away,
Of all that I could do,
The time that I spend
Between birth and death.
So much more than verbs,
Antonyms, acronyms of
What you never tell,
Never show, never do.
Most time is up there
Where nothing happens
But existence itself.
The time spent
Wishing for a way out,
Pitch-black garage,
Still stagnant clocks,
Faraway, muted, dusted,
Blurry friends and family,
Drowning in a bathtub
Keeping the charade.
holding my breath
Keeping time away
from walking from them
or finding a way to my end
Could never take back.
Slowly, I drink my tea,
Slowly, I start to see
Everything that wastes time,
Screaming life goes by,
Daggers in my back
Of words I never trust.
Minutes are mine,
And I use them freely,
I know their worth
In those I play cards with
And laugh at jokes,
Bring tiny tasks to
Completion, fold the
Clothes, and write
Some more, about
Wonders of never having been
Really gone, just lost
In the time I spend
Between birth and death
February Prompt 12. to live @the-end-society
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i’ve seen gimleaf fics where they each try to find out how to court by the other’s traditions. and i love those, so i think they ought to be taken a step further. and i think the way to do that would be, naturally, to make bagginshield real. allow me to explain why. ahem. after the ring is destroyed, girlfailure legolas spends two weeks poring over The Ancient Texts and stressing because his one (1) friend who WOULD help him (that’s aragorn) knows jack shit about dwarves beyond the surface (no pun intended) (well gandalf knows things but gandalf is a bitch) (he would just smile at legolas knowingly and wish him good luck instead of giving him answers).
so alas, girlfailure “shit tier ass elf” legolas is left to like, idk, sulk or something in the garden he starts at the Bestie Residence in minas tirith. and after like 2 days sam’s had enough he’s like “dude your vibes are upsetting the plants.” and legolas is like “my bad bro. it just seems i know nothing about dwarves which i probably should’ve thought about before, by elf standards, getting hitched in vegas.” and sam is like “oh dwarves? just ask mister frodo ^_^ he knows tons about dwarves!” and legolas is like “what the shit? him in particular? why does he anything about dwarves?” and sam leans in reaaaalllllll close and whispers behind his hand, “well you see mister elf, mister legolas, sir, there’s always been a very healthy amount of rumors that go around in the shire about mister frodo’s uncle, mister bilbo, and the letters he used to exchange with a certain king under the mountain.” and legolas, who was THERE, is like
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Amity Parkers in Gotham
Casper High students graduated. As much as they loved their town (which now included ghosts as recurring residents) they knew they had to go. Not because Phantom didn't do a good job, or that ghosts attacked daily (on the contrary, after Phantom's intervention the destruction became concentrated in the Infinite Realms), but they had to go to a university. That's why most of them applied to Gotham University, it seemed right.
Sure, Gotham wasn't as cool as Amity, nor did it include dimension travel to the Realm of the Dead (Amity Parkers had access to the Infinite Realms as long as they abided by Walker's rules), but they had a great scholarship program, and the city was so chaotic because of its heroes and villains that it felt...like home.
The problem was that no one taught Casper's ex-students some basics: Feeling afraid, avoiding your attackers, not attacking back. Things that seemed like common sense did not go through their heads. After years of dealing with ghost attacks they had gotten used to it, and knew how to counterattack.
So, after their arrival they were knocking out rogues, stopping robbery, and looking bored at the prospect of dying. That made Batman suspicious of a secret society of young soldiers, although it didn't really make much sense, was someone training teenagers? The batfamily was worried at the prospect.
At some point, there was even an "undead" attack in what was called the Justice League; Of course, the Amity Parkers were the first to establish a secure site and prevent the invasion from advancing. At the end everything seemed lost and the undead epidemic was about to spread out of Gotham, but Dash snorted and said that he would "contact a friend that can help", which raised the suspicions of the League.
Danny, who was taking a year off before starting his university studies, raised an eyebrow at the group he had with his old classmates. He shrugged before transforming into Phantom and going to the place, in a few minutes the invasion was over and Bruce was 90% sure that there was a secret society training a teenage army.
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Tldr: I need a BLT pride flag.
Story time: I painted my nails with my wife’s nail polish to look goth for a day and surprise her at work. Great times to be had but I never removed it because I forgot nail polish remover is a thing!
I’m at work, we have old school blue collar conservative dudes that are blunt and nice. (Pending you arnt too open about yourself)
I am in the lunch room and one member who I call “Slick” looks at me. His expression was a mix of betrayal and confusion. His mouth agape and his eyes sunken with sorrow and hurt. “Well hey (bear) what’s with the nails. Are you one of them BLT people?”
Internally I held in a laugh. I told him the goth tale and he happily told me to use some chemicals they had in the back that would take it right off. I ain’t telling them I’m Pansexual, because I don’t want to lose my job and they don’t need to know. But, I now associate myself as part of the BLT community.
I need a pride flag made and it’s colors form a BLT sandwich.
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If I were about to die,
I would not struggle with it.
I would not make a big deal,
been keeping up with big deals,
enough for one life.
I would make the objective of my day
to remember what life looks like,
take everything in my daily life
just one more time.
I don't think I would take a big trip or skydive,
I don't think I would bother myself
recording mi though or face for posterity,
no list of lessons, no advice.
I don't think I would spend it with my loved ones,
no lovers, no family, no friends,
too many tears, I have never liked
to console anyone.
I think I could not even change at all,
even go to work,
not tell a soul,
but I would take my time.
For the first time, I would watch
the tea bag infuse over three minutes
and find it fun, entertaining even.
I would take it away and properly squeeze it
before disposing of it,
I would not leave it in the corner of the sink
as I always do in a rush.
I could open the bin and leave it gently there.
In my daily routine, I would question the names
of every cloud, every plant, and
stop in my tracks to look it up,
just to nod and say ahh,
repeated out loud, tasting the sound in my mouth
until full and satisfied.
I would not search for a quick fling,
I think I would bake
those recipes where you have to leaven for hours on end,
several times, those where you measure and sift.
I think it would make me a better person,
a better listener at the very least,
not because I particularly care
or fear the eternal pain,
but I had nothing better to do.
I don't think I would stay still,
even in pain, I wouldn't rest,
there are so many stains on the ceiling,
there's so much self-pity.
I think I would pet every dog I see
and ignore every cat without feeling guilty.
I would remember if not immediately,
I would ask, not a hesitation in my mind,
the name of everyone,
even at night, I would sleep right away,
if day, I would do it anyway,
in the supermarket, in the job, in the street,
in the car anyway anytime.
I would like to think
I would insult way too much,
but I find it doubtful I even care that much.
The most I think about my imminent demise,
recoiling, more activities come to mind,
long tedious and fun,
that I've never been able to do.
The more time it took,
the more overwhelming my death became,
a long list of tasks to be made in a limited time.
The farther away I am,
the less time I have to just wait.
Oh, this again I was not supposed to struggle
this much when I'm about to dead.
February Prompt 10. Why this agony @the-end-society
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