#for stories
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
autobot2001 · 7 months ago
Text
This isn't entirely true. It's more like I've read all finished stories with Crosshairs and Drift. Have all in progress stories saved. Seen all the art. I unfortunately can't draw transformers. I wish I could. I have at least 30 stories planned with Crosshairs and Drift. Mostly with my OC Jamie and other friends ( Autobots and OCs) 2 AUs, and I think the Whump challenges this year have given me more story ideas. In addition to other stories planned. I have Autobots in my Sims 4 but I don't have any LP ideas. Not enough mods) cc to tell the stories I've written in the game.
Tumblr media
when when you want to see content but you are the only one who can create it
22K notes · View notes
rudamaruda520 · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
me as a writer
79K notes · View notes
chunkysoup22 · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
153K notes · View notes
write-on-world · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
101K notes · View notes
louisetaylor · 2 months ago
Text
COOL
I have a fantasy novel in my brain inspired by a dream I had when I was in college, and I want to write about it someday.
The story takes place on a world that is a flat, infinite plane. Every morning the miniature sun of this world rises vertically out of a caldera of a volcano. Its light and heat allows a circle of the plane to be warmed, and it falls and sets in the same volcano every night.
Immediately surrounding the volcano is a world of blasted and blackened stone. Beyond that is a Goldilocks zone of temperate climate, where most of the populace of this world lives. And at the very edge of civilization is a ring of snow and freezing winds, where the very last of the sun's light and heat feebly tries to warm the world.
Beyond that ring - beyond the spotlight of life illuminated by the miniature sun - is a world of darkness and ice. No light, no life, no heat. Explorers say every day that there must be worlds beyond the one lit by their own sun, and venture into the shadow and frost to find them.
They never return.
And then one day in the village of Longshadow - a village at the furthest edge of the sun's light, where shadows only ever stretch in one direction - someone returns from the darkness. They say they found something in the ice.
They say found a sun in chains.
7K notes · View notes
blu-engineer · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
funniest shit is going down on discord rn
72K notes · View notes
puppppppppy · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
filipina miku!! my mom helped me with her outfit ^_^
64K notes · View notes
mintaii · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
take responsibility
50K notes · View notes
housederiva · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
My housemate's cat came into my room while my dictation was on...
(here's the fic btw)
43K notes · View notes
trekscribbles · 19 days ago
Text
This week, I read a fic that was around 20 years old, which had originally been posted on the author's personal website and which she added to AO3 a few years ago. She listed her email address with the fic, so after I finished reading, I sent her an email saying how much I enjoyed the story, how much I appreciated the work and effort she obviously put into it, and thanked her for uploading it to AO3. She responded the next day and thanked me for my message, then said she had a few more stories in the same series that she hadn't gotten around to uploading. I checked this morning--she added a 35,000 word novella and thanked me in the summary.
👏 comment 👏 on 👏 old 👏 fics 👏
53K notes · View notes
inbabylontheywept · 5 months ago
Text
my grandpa was a good man. and it really wasnt his fault - recreationally lying to kids is a proud family tradition - but he told me, once, that cutting a worm in half resulted in two worms.
i think he said it so i'd be more morally okay with fishing? i actually dont remember the context.
point was, he told me this, and he understimated (by a very large margin) how much i liked worms. i was a worm boy. very wormy. and after hearing that, i went home, and i dug through the garden, flipped over every rock, did everything i could to gather as many worms as i could, and then i uh.
i cut them all in half. every worm i could find. all of them. with scissors.
i then took this pile of split worms, and i put them in a box with a bit of lettuce and some water and stuff and went to bed expecting to double my worms overnight. i have math autism, so i had a vague understanding that if i did this just a few times in a row, i would eventually have a completely unreasonable amount of worms.
i was very excited to become this plane's worm emperor.
(i think i was...six?)
anyway, i did not become the inheritor of the worm crown. i instead woke up to a box of dead worms and cried. a lot. i got diagnosed with panic attacks as a teenager, but i think i had them as a kid, i just had no idea what they were. i was kind of processing that a.) i had killed what i had assumed was every single worm in my yard, and thus would have no more worms, and b). i was going to like, worm hell.
(six year babylon spent a lot of time worrying about god.)
so i kind of freaked out, and i climbed a tree, because god can only smite you if you're touching the ground (?) and i sat up there mostly inconsolable until my mom came out and asked, hey, what's up? what happened?
so i explained to her that i had killed all of the worms, forever, and was also Damned, and she took me to the compost pile, and we dug for all of five seconds and found like twenty more worms.
the compost pile was full of worms.
she then told me that a). there were more worms, and we could put them back under rocks and stuff and recolonize our yard and b). that one day, i would die, and go to heaven, and be able to talk to the worms face to face. that i'd be able to tell them all that i was very sorry, and that i killed them on accident, driven only by excessive Love, and that she was positive they would forgive me because worms have six hearts and no malice.
at that point, i think i was sixty percent tear-snot by weight, and i had no choice but to gather enough worms that i could hug them. which my mom helped with. and then after that she helped me put some worms back under each rock.
and for my epilogue: i spent a significant portion of my childhood in trees. and for many years after, even when my mom didnt know i was watching, i would catch her giving the space under the rocks a light spritz with the hose. not because she loved worms.
but because she loved me.
59K notes · View notes
arynneva · 3 months ago
Text
wait do people read first person stories and think they're the ones in the story???
Saw people talking about not liking first person, which is fair, but their reasoning was like "I would not do that" and I don't understand that mindset.
First person stories are still about a character. A character making their own decisions. First person isn't about you???? At least I thought it wasn't. What am I missing? I've always seen first person as just a more in-depth look into a character's mind and stricter POV. Not as a reader stand-in.
50K notes · View notes
afniel · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.
47K notes · View notes
thestuffedalligator · 5 months ago
Text
“Are you the witch who turned eleven princes into swans?”
The old woman stared at the figure on the front step of her cottage and considered her options. It was the kind of question usually backed up by a mob with meaningful torches, and the kind of question she tried to avoid.
Coming from a single dusty, tired housewife, it should’ve held no terrors.
“You a cop?”
The housewife twisted the hem of her apron. “No,” she muttered. “I’m a swan.”
A raven croaked somewhere in the woods. Wind whispered in the autumn leaves.
Then: “I think I can guess,” the old woman said slowly. “Husband stole your swan skin and forced you to marry him?”
A nod.
“And you can’t turn back into a swan until you find your skin again.”
A nod.
“But I reckon he’s hidden it, or burned it, or keeps it locked up so you can’t touch it.”
A tiny, miserable nod.
“And then you hear that old Granny Rothbart who lives out in the woods is really a batty old witch whose father taught her how to turn princes into swans,” the old woman sighed. “And you think, ‘Hey, stuff the old skin, I can just turn into a swan again this way.’
“But even if that was true – which I haven’t said if it is or if it isn’t – I’d say that I can only do it to make people miserable. I’m an awful person. I can’t do it out of the goodness of my heart. I have no goodness. I can’t use magic to make you feel better. I only wish I could.”
Another pause. “If I was a witch,” she added.
The housewife chewed the inside of her cheek. Then she drew herself up and, for the first time, looked the old woman in the eyes.
“Can you do it to make my husband miserable?”
The old woman considered her options. Then she pulled the wand out from the umbrella stand by the door. It was long, and silver, and a tiny glass swan with open wings stood perched on the tip.
“I can work with that,” said the witch.
58K notes · View notes
crow-caller · 5 months ago
Text
as a child there's nothing cooler than a kid who gets subjected to evil experiments and gains special abilities. it's even cooler if these abilities also cause unfathomable suffering to use/against others. children love stories like this.
39K notes · View notes