#Tall Tale Stories

[gpstudios]

Title: National Big Whopper Liar Day: Embrace the Fun of Tall Tales

Celebrate National Big Whopper Liar Day on September 20 by embracing the art of tall tales! Share your funniest exaggerations, create imaginative stories, and enjoy the humor of creative storytelling.

Introduction National Big Whopper Liar Day, observed on September 21, is a light-hearted celebration of exaggeration and tall tales. This quirky day encourages people to share their most outrageous and humorous stories, all in good fun. Whether it’s spinning a yarn with friends or reflecting on the art of storytelling, it’s a perfect time to enjoy the creative side of exaggeration and have a…

[tales-of-wocdes]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!! Add a female (or trans woman) RO that is FREAKISHLY tall buff and mean ILL PLAY JUST PLEASE!!! My mc needs them.

Wow that enthusiastic... well.. huh... You could be in luck... Depending on what people think :D I make no promises, but hear me out.

As one of the earlier posts said, I have some basic notes about other characters for the future. Some are more locked in than others. I said I would not talk about the other characters but this is not much of a character yet.

One of those notes just says "adventurer." Nothing else. Why? Because I had an idea recently and just wrote it down, and this is related to that.

Now it would be a long time before we actually get there.... but "FREAKISHLY tall buff and mean" does fit "adventurer", does it not? I have added "Potentially FREAKISHLY tall buff and mean" to my notes :D I did also find a note saying I should do a character with giant heritage... Hmm.....

The real question is, would this person be a more barbarian type (less armor) or more moving fortress on legs (heavy armor). Or something completely different.

[get-back-homeward]

Did he talk much about the Beatles?

All the time.

Did he feel like it was a weight on him?

No, he absolutely loved it. I used to have a little Sony blaster that I would put up… It’s funny because now I do my fucking mix through a Bose wave radio, but then it was a Sony blaster. A fairly good one. And if you sounded good in there, everything was right. And one day in a few moments when nothing was going on, he would put on WNYW FM and listen to the radio. He loved to listen.

And when a Beatles song came on the radio, he would tell you everything about that session. Everything that happened. He never had a problem talking about how much he loved that band. And how much he loved those guys. He was a little annoyed at George, because George had written a book and he didn’t mention John much in the book, at that time. But he felt that that would come around.

But his love for that band. Phenomenal. It was great. It was what you hoped he would be like.

He loved them as much as everyone loved them. Did he ever discuss why they never reunited, or why they had those near-misses? Well you know he and Paul were already in the process. This Ringo album I think was going to be big.

That could have been a big stepping stone?

Yeah.

Did you ever see them together, any of them?

No. But I know that Paul was up at the Dakota.

Did they jam together?

I don’t know. All I know is that Paul was preparing stuff for Ringo’s album.

—Jack Douglas, producer of John Lennon's Double Fantasy and Milk and Honey albums [x]

[sandyhorse333]

why are you gay

i just felt like it

[blujayonthewing]

why are their stats so good??

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔢 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔖𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔄𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔅𝔦𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔢. 𝔙𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 ℑℑ: 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔚𝔞𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔗𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔗𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔰. ℭ𝔬���𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔟𝔶 𝔍𝔬𝔥𝔫 ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔪𝔢𝔰.

[kwebtv]

Shelley Alexis Duvall (July 7, 1949 – July 11, 2024) Actress. Known for her collaborations with Robert Altman and for playing eccentric characters, she won a Cannes Film Festival Award and was nominated for a British Academy Film Award and two Emmy Awards.

She ventured into producing television programming aimed at children and youth in the latter half of the 1980s, creating and hosting the programs Faerie Tale Theatre (1982–1987), Tall Tales & Legends (1985–1987), Nightmare Classics (1989) and Shelley Duvall's Bedtime Stories (1992–1994). (Wikipedia)

IMDb Listing

[deus-ex-mona]

when the realisation ✨finally✨ dawns on you but it’s wayyyy too late

[johnnyutah]

has anyone read kes omg i’m about halfway through rn and i’m gonna bawl my eyes out in this fucking airport

[catschimericalcreations]

No Face Cactus Cat Plush made from Upcycled Beanie Babies by Cat’s Chimerical Creations

Did you know:

With every donation you make at https://ko-fi.com/catschimericalcreations you can unlock one fun fact about any repurposed Beanie Baby hybrid plush beast of your choosing!

[the-history-munarch]

Hey! I’m writing for a project I was brought on and it would really helpful to get funding for it

It’ll be a mix of comics and animation, the story follows a sort a 1920s fantasy

It follows Two kitsunes running a cafe in a world of magic and mythical creatures

For more information follow Tall Tale Studios On YouTube, Instagram and twitter!

Donations:

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/TallTaleStudios

GoFundMe: https://gofund.me/d68edde9

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/talltalestudios64849

Every bit helps or spreading this around to get the word out as we work on the pilot will help support the artists and VAs and music we want to put in here.

[ngs-fic-portal]

Hey its me again lol, so anyway could you do ena X non-bi reader

ok luv you 🖤🤍💛💜

Ena x NB reader

Picnic under the dogs

It was a warm day under the hourglass fields. The sun (or whatever it was) beamed down feeding the grass and the skin of those who basked in it. It was a perfect day, you wanted nothing more than to seize it by the neck to spend it with your girlfriend.

So there you sat on a paisley blanket pattern ebbing and flowing, waiting for her. You brought a plethora of your and her favorite foods to be assembled into a light lunch while you two could enjoy the breeze and the grass.

It took a while but finally your eccentric partner had arrived.

“Dearest apologies y/n I tried to get here sooner but I had many a things to attend to!”

The interpretive dance that accompanied her dialogue spelt out a great guilt that had been covered by a grand joy to be able to cherish your presence. You wondered aloud what things she had to do, and ena relayed her sorrows for you.

“Oh it was awful just awful”

“I was gonna take the usual route but the gate was closed so I had to go the long way, I met a few strange characters and things kinda spiraled from there”

She sat down on the flowing paisley blanket next to you, she then reached behind her back to give you something.

“By the by! Moony was gracious enough to help me bake you this tiramisu! But she calls it a tire-misu!”

She presented the cake to you, it floated in an appetizing manner that made your mouth water.

“It looks beautiful”

You say, admiring the craftsmanship. She blushes at the compliment and asks you about your week.

The two of you talk for hours about all the strange events of your life, making little jewelry from the flowers and gazing at the shape of the clouds. you and Ena ate until every morsel of food was gone, leaving the tiramisu to last.

The sweet layers melted in your mouth, the way they ignite your taste buds brought warmness to your chest and stomach. It was like taking a bit from the sun itself and savoring it.

As the day turned to evening the two of you laid together on that blanket basking in each other's company, everything so comfortable and nice that you fell into a food coma with Ena, without a care about packing things up later.

👾Sorry these keep taking so long, im forgetful as fuck. I wasn’t really sure what exactly you wanted so I just did a short one shot. Thank you for the ask!

[dippietheham]

Today was tiring. I'm not addicted to mocktails, but in my tiredness, I find myself trudging up to the doorstep of my now favourite bar. Nodding to the toad on its bench (and getting a croak in return), I push open the door, and seat myself at the bar counter. My bartender takes a look at me, and quietly puts together my favourite mocktail without any mockery. In fact, he takes so much mockery out that it's practically alcoholic.

While I nurse my second glass, he regales me with yet another tale.

-------------------

Did you know (my bartender says) that in the middle of a desert somewhere, there's a top that's always spinning?

I meet the top every now and then. He drops by my bar when he's finally persuaded to take a break, on his whirlwind tour of the Top 20 Interesting Places Recommended by A Fairy (You won't believe the 15th). He calls himself a top but he's more of a gyroscope, a spinning disc of metal balanced in the center of a metal frame. He can't stay still.

His home is near the center of the desert. If you try to walk in that direction for about 10 days, you might reach a spot near a rock that looks like the nose of an enraged cat. He spins close to that rock, but doesn't allow himself to be under any shelter. Instead, he stands in the open, and spins.

He watches the sunrise as he spins, and bakes under the hot noon sun. He keeps an eye on the setting sun while he spins on, never stopping. He shivers as the desert temperatures plummet in the night The stars, pretty as they are, offer no comfort. The cold does affect his spin, causing him to wobble now and then, but he's never allowed to stop. He never allows himself to stop.

When he first started out, his bottom bearing kept getting caught on sand grains and he would wobble and topple. Without fail, he'd get up again and spin. By now, the sand beneath him has been ground to a glassy glaze, and he topples less. And still he spins on.

He showed me how he spins, and it's like a ballet within a ballet. His frame spins gently in one direction while his disc spins in the other, and that makes him balance as he spins. It's magical, almost hypnotic, and it's relaxing.

I asked him why he spins in the middle of the desert where no one can see his beauty.

"I was owned by a man who tried to cross the desert on his own. Perhaps it was foolishness, or pride, but he told no one, and asked for no help. He ran out of water for quite a while, but managed to make his way near the rock that looks like the nose of an enraged cat. And as he lay gasping and dying, I fell out of his pocket."

"As he lay panting, he summoned the last of his strength to point. And lo and behold, under the rock that looks like the nose of an enraged cat, was a small bubbling outlet of a hidden aquifer. No one would see it standing up. It was only visible when he had finally given up and laid down, only to find that he couldn't even crawl over to the source of life to restore even a little of himself."

"And so he died and wilted up. Death may be unforgiving, but the desert even more so. I know not how to count time but the sun rose and set only a few times ere my master's bones were exposed. Sandwinds come and go, and the sands shift. His bones are gone now, but the rock remains. Ugly, unassuming, uninviting, yet with life."

"I know not why I did not get buried. I know only that when my master's finger finally vanished under the sand, that no one would know of the life that they would get if only they stopped to look closer, to stoop down to my level and see. So that same day, I tried to spin."

"It was difficult. My bearings were coated with sand. Sand was everywhere. I was alone, and yet I wanted to try. So I creaked. I rasped. I jerked and jolted, trying my best not to fall, and failing. There were many times that I wanted to just give up and let the sand swallow me."

"But it never did."

"A time later, a man did walk past. He looked tired and dry, as only the desert can make you be. He saw me stuttering, and knelt down to see me closer. In doing that, he saw the water, and he stayed a day or two, watching me, resting and recovering under the shade. He had some oil on him, bless him, and he oiled my bearings. I finally got to spin as I did in my youth, and he watched, as he rested. Then he left. Unlike my master, he was able to carry on."

"I spin now because my master died alone. I spin because the sands do not swallow me. I spin because a stranger oiled my bearings and helped me spin better. I spin because hope and life exist where no one thinks to look, and I want them to look in case it's the hope and life they need. I spin even though I gain nothing because I have been given too much to not spin."

Do you never get bored of it?

"Nah. It's fun to spin. It's fun to be able to spin. I can spin better than some tops that have become famous (you hear of those Baku something tops and I'm like come spin in the desert with me dude. You won't last a minute.)."

Don't you need to take more breaks?

"Sometimes. When my bearings scratch as I spin, I leave to look for someone to oil them. The glazed sand is a good marker for those who pass, but only for the short time I'm away. I do fear that someone may need to see the water when I'm gone, but for me to continue to spin, I know I need to get those bearings seen to."

"One day, I expect the sand to cover me. One day, the desert might shift enough that the rock may be hidden, or reveal the water more. One day I might stop spinning because I cannot anymore."

"But until that day, I'll spin, for the few that will need to have the hope to carry on."

-------------

My bartender does like to spin some tall tales sometimes.

But somehow, I'm a little less tired. On top of the world, even.

[tenth-sentence]

When dinner was over they began to tell tales of their own, but Beorn seemed to be growing drowsy and paid little heed to them.

"The Hobbit" - J. R. R. Tolkien

[weepingfireflies]

Me watching Taisho Otome Fairy Tale: If I can convince myself I was straight and cis for years, I can convince myself Shima Tamahiko is 15 years old

[thatgirlwhosawthelight]

A (procrastinator's) Weekly Writing Diary

A (procrastinator’s) Weekly Writing Diary

SundayI will write today.But it’s Sunday.A day to rest, to be lazy, to do skincare!I’ll start tomorrow. New week, new me.MondayOkay, new week, new me. I will definitely start writing everyday from today.TuesdaySo here’s a good prompt, 1. A painting with a secret 2. A masquerade mask3. A forgotten roomYep, I can do so many things from that! So it’s going to be a story about a misunderstood younger…