#google doc in a reblog

[solarpunkani]

sometimes spite is a powerful motivator and today its motivating me to crochet

long story short I saw a cool bag on pinterest while I was looking for crochet patterns but there was no fucking pattern but one of my friends found a pattern for a similar but not quite bag so I watched an hour long video, transcribed it into text, and am now gonna make a wholeass backpack just because Sunflower Vibe

Wish me luck I guess

Also this is the bag

[shey-pancake]

GraWolfquinn and "Springtrap and Deliah" Real intentions

I know I said I left my tumblr archived due to the ceo siding with israel (maybe in the future I will come back, for now, theres still a genocide on palestine)

But I needed to share this, it's a very serious emergency and I need to share it as much as I can, it's about GraWolfquinn as a person and her true intentions with the comic...

Please, if you are from the S&D fandom, like the comic, the characters or even just know a bit about it, read the document below, and reblog this as much as you can.

[percki]

on my knees

tags: 18+, mature content, MDNI, Gale x reader, f!Tav, 2nd person pronouns, act 3, semi-public sex, porn w/o plot, lap dance, explicit consent, bondage, restraints, dom/sub, switch Gale, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), lap sex, hand jobs, overstimulation, orgasm denial, praise kink

ao3 link

“Urgh.” Rolan stands up, wiping a smear of Lorroakan’s blood off the sleeve of his robes. “Your aasimar friend is… violent.”

“I’m so sorry for the mess, Rolan. We can clean everything up –” You glance around the upper level of the tower, at the holy fire, congealed mud, pasty mixture of water and ash, and a fair amount of blood. At the wizard’s broken body, his face swollen with bruises, his mouth agape, sprawled at the foot of his throne of books. “– Um, but it might take a while.”

Rolan waves one long-nailed hand in your direction, his discolored face grateful – if not a bit exasperated. “Don’t worry about it, my friend. You have already done so much for me – consider my debt forgiven, and all will be well.” You smile at that, watching the tiefling wizard grunt with exertion as he hauls Lorroakan’s body towards the portal. “And, erm – help yourself to any treasures you come across, of course. I’ll be… downstairs…” He pushes the corpse through the shimmering portal, and sends you one last earnest, sharp-toothed smile over his shoulder. “...Burying a body.”

With that, Rolan pushes up the sleeves of his robes (sorcerer’s robes, trimmed in silver, unbefitting for a wizard, but they suit him well nonetheless) and steps through the portal, no doubt bracing himself to break the news to his new employees. ‘Hey, so remember those adventurers that just came in? They killed Lorroakan, violently, and I’m your boss now. Surprise!’ You’re sure the staff at Sorcerous Sundries have endured worse surprises; working for Lorroakan sounds akin to an eternity of torture in the Hells.

Aylin sheathes her sword and crosses over to you, removing her helmet. Her ash-blonde hair spills over her shoulders, and her gold-streaked face glistens with blood and sweat. “I shall be at your camp, if you have need of me,” she declares, and inclines her head in gratitude. “You fought well – as you have before. I remain thankful for your assistance.” Less wordy than usual – Lorroakan’s death must be weighing on her. You don’t blame her.

“Thank you, Dame Aylin,” you say, and bow in respect. She smiles at that, silver eyes gleaming.

“Ooh, wait!” Karlach runs up to you, her arms full of wine bottles – no doubt pilfered from Lorroakan’s hidden stash. The woman has a nose for alcohol – she could find a bottle of Baldur’s Grape blindfolded, disoriented, in the middle of a rainstorm. Shadowheart is close behind, a new cloak slung over her shoulders and a fair amount of gold filling her pockets. “We’ll probably go back to camp, too – Fringe and I have to try all this wine.”

“To make sure it isn’t poisoned,” Shadowheart adds, green eyes twinkling with humor. “You can handle yourselves without us, can’t you?”

You grin. “Save a bottle of Mermaid Whiskey for me.”

“Blech. You can have it all.” Karlach sticks out her split tongue, her smile wide. “See ya!” She bolts through the portal head-first: dangerous, with the amount of alcohol in her arms and the fiery infernal engine in her chest. You hear a distant crash, and wince.

Shadowheart follows close behind, calling, “Save the Tyche Pink!”

You hear the rush of wings and look over – Aylin is gone, too, a flash of silver in the clear blue sky. You watch her fly, the wind buffeting her white wings – deva-like, altogether unnatural, inhuman, beautiful in an untouchable, deadly, frightening way – as she soars. The sunlight seems to collect around her, like a remnant of her celestial mother’s power lingers, still, even after the heat and rage of battle is done.

“And then there were two.”

Gale’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. You look up, meeting his eyes. Dark brown, deep, gentle, shining with a light all too familiar. He’s standing by the throne of books, his right hand resting on a copy of Folktales of Faerún: The Angelic Aasimar. 

You kneel over the ashes of the water myrmidon, sifting through the remains for treasure. Nothing. “I suppose Rolan will take a while…” You look around the tower once more, keen eyes picking out chests, display cases, bookshelves – anything that could hide a nice new set of robes for Gale, or a dagger for Astarion, or perhaps some armor for Wyll… “Will you cast Feather Fall? I want to look on the lower levels…” You trail off, reading something in Gale’s eyes. His fingers flex on the spine of the book, his shoulders thrown back, his lilac robes fitting his form well. Is he… posing? You smile and straighten, dusting ash off your sleeves, and move to his side, twining your left arm with his right, leaning comfortably against his side. “The Annals are in the vaults,” you say, knowing his primary objective here, halfheartedly attempting to lift his spirits. Thoughts of the Crown are dangerous – you have seen how easily the lure of power can corrupt, a thousand times (with Kagha in the Emerald Grove, with Minthara at the goblin camp, with Ketheric and Gortash and now Lorroakan). But despite your reservations, you know his ambition fuels him, that it drives his fire, that thoughts of greatness and respect do raise his spirits. “We could go down ourselves…”

Gale turns into you, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his beard scratching at your neck. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, and sighs deeply, inhaling your scent – blood and smoke and sweat, and the faintest hints of his cologne lingering on your skin. “I… Not yet,” he says vaguely, and kisses your neck again, deeper this time. Your breath hitches as he trails long, searing kisses up your neck, along the line of your jaw, leading up to your lips.

“Gale…” You whisper, voice low. “I –” He nips at your bottom lip, smiling against your chin, and you can feel your face heat up. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he says devilishly, oak eyes sparkling, looking up at you through thick, dark lashes. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, and you can feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. “I can’t believe…” He blinks, as if waking from a dream, and cradles your jaw with his hand, straightening to his full height.

You kiss him, this time, tasting blood on his lips, and you stop, examining his face carefully. A bruise is forming at the bridge of his nose, blood tracing a path down the apex of his lips to his chin. You frown, brow creasing in worry. “You’re hurt.”

“Hm?” Gale touches his face gingerly, delicate, careful fingers prodding the quickly-purpling skin. “Oh. Yes. That. It’s quite alright –”

“It’s not alright,” you reply. “Let me heal you.” You take his shoulders in your hands and guide him into a seated position on Lorroakan’s throne, his back reclined against a collection of Ramazith’s annotated tomes. You kneel before him, positioning yourself between his legs, and summon a simple healing incantation, your hand hovering over his nose, the blue glow of the spell reflected in his eyes. “Te curo,” you murmur, and watch as his skin knits itself together, blood drying, swelling fading, the bruise vanishing beneath your fingers. “Better?”

“Better,” he admits, and looks at you with intent in his eyes, his gaze dark and focused on your features. “My love,” he starts, then hesitates. His face turns a delicious shade of pink.

“Yes?” You lean forward, hanging onto his words. He adjusts his legs, his thighs bracketing your shoulders, and you feel the slightest thrill at your compromising position, you in your armor and him in his robes, you kneeling before him like a supplicant at an altar.

“Rolan may not return for some time,” Gale says. “We could…” He stops again, biting his lip.

You guess his meaning immediately – your thoughts are remarkably in-tune. You can’t deny that you hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t wished for… Well. For Gale. Your peaceful nights since arriving in the Lower City have been few and far between, interrupted as they are: by vampires, by nightmares, by Orin’s ministrations. It’s been some time since you and Gale had time to yourselves.

And now, it seems, you have all the time in the world.

“Do you want to?” You question, and his eyes darken, his pupils expanding infinitesimally. You lean forward, cupping his cock with your hand, and smile to feel him already half-hard beneath your touch.

“I – yes,” he breathes, and raises his hand to cast Mage Hand, the incantation on his lips, when you catch him by the wrist, holding him still.

“No magic,” you say breathlessly, and straighten back up to your full height, smiling down at him. “As mortals do, remember?”

Gale watches you intently as you undo the first few buckles of your armor, leather slipping between your fingers. He sits up, reaching out his hands to help –

And you push him back.

“Don’t move,” you warn him, and plant one hand securely on his chest, holding him in place, as you draw a piece of silken fabric out of your pack. You hold it up for him to see, and upon realizing your intention, his eyes widen, pupils expanding impossibly wide. “Do you want this?” You ask, and he confirms with a nod of his head. You narrow your eyes and lean in, your face centimeters away from his, your breath ghosting on his lips. “Say it, please, love.”

He swallows thickly, eyes locked on yours, and says, his voice a rumble in his chest, “I want you to tie me up.”

You smile, and reward him with a bruising, biting kiss. “Good boy,” you murmur, and relish the way his face reddens, his jaw going slightly slack at the praise. “Lean forward for me?” He acquiesces, already holding his hands behind his back, and you climb up into his lap to twine the silk around his wrists, your touch featherlight and gentle. You test the knot, and smile. Not too tight – but he certainly won’t get any ideas about spellcasting. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yes,” he says into your shoulder, his voice muffled by the layers of your armor. You stand back up and step completely out of your clothes, metal buckles and buttons clinking as your many layers fall to the floor, and then you stand before Gale in your undergarments, your skin rising with goosebumps from the cool air, his eyes roving a path up and down your figure.

You feel a little warm from the intensity of his gaze, but you steel your nerves and continue. You reach out with your senses, using the knowledge of the Weave that Gale taught you of so long ago, and you can feel a soft tinkling at the edge of your perception, the distant sound of music, and you pull it towards you. In one of the pleasure dens far below, a slow, sensual number starts up, and you filter the sound through the available space, filling the tower with music.

Gale’s lips part as he realizes your plan. “Love,” he starts, “I haven’t –”

You feel a twinge of self-doubt, standing there near-nude before a man who is completely clothed. You have no experience with this whatsoever – apart from what you have read and seen – and you’re not sure that Gale loves you enough to forgive you if you make a total ass of yourself. “This is okay, right?” You rush to ask, holding your hands out for his before realizing that he’s still tied. You tuck them behind your back, straightening your posture. “Um – I know this is probably unusual, but, you know, in the Quarta Sune –”

Gale grins, his dimples making a rare appearance, and the sight of it pulls at your heartstrings. “You are perfect,” he promises, lifting his dark eyes up to your face. “This is perfect. Please, keep going.”

The slight rasp of his voice goes straight to your core, and you step forward before you’re entirely conscious of your movements, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He leans into you with a groan, and you can feel his shoulders move, his hands resisting the bindings, and you pull back. “No touching,” you say softly, “right? This is about you.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, his expression adorably resentful, and you laugh and kiss the bridge of his nose.

“Later,” you promise, and with that, you stand up, and turn away from him, facing the windows, the setting sun illuminating your skin. The music restarts, strings amping up, and you sway your hips to the tune, letting instinct take over. One, two, three, you breathe, feeling the rhythm run through you, and as the music crescendos, you drop down onto Gale’s lap, your ass just brushing over his thighs, hoping your undulating body looks sensual rather than spasmodic, and your efforts are rewarded with a delicious, blinding groan from behind you. You turn back around to face him – one, two, three – and lean in close, your scent intoxicating, his body warming your skin, and bracket his legs with your knees, one hand carding through his hair and the other slowly unbuttoning his robes, your knuckles barely brushing the velvet-soft hair on his chest. You slide your hands down the planes of his torso, and then, just as he’s leaning forward, again, anticipating your lips on his –

You step back again, turning, lifting your hands over your head and letting your hair down, smiling to yourself as you peek over your shoulder at his exasperated face. One, two, three. You let your ass ghost over his lap again, closer this time, holding there for a few moments longer than he considers tolerable, and just as his patience goes and his hips buck, you return to your starting position, looking down at him chidingly.

“Please,” he whispers, and you raise your brows, your hands going to the clasp of your bra. He watches, rapt, as you slide the fabric off your breasts and let it fall to the ground atop your discarded armor, your nipples peaking in the cool air. You repeat the motion with your panties, and you’re sure Gale catches sight of the soaked fabric as you toss it aside: his face turns a flattering shade of crimson, his arms straining against his silken ropes.

“How can I deny you?” You say, and with smooth, uninterrupted movements, you slide onto his lap, rocking your hips back and forth, tantalizingly slow, atop him. His robes slip open completely, and you can feel his cock straining against the fabric of his undergarments, barely brushing against the skin of your thighs. Your hands roam along the skin of his chest, thumbs swirling careful circles in the dips of his collarbone and shoulders, your palms warm against his skin. “You’re doing so well,” you praise him, and lean forward to kiss along the line of his clavicle, then slowly up his neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, tasting his sandalwood cologne, his soapy shaving cream, the sweat and salt lingering there, your tongue pulsing against his jaw. “So good for me,” you continue, running your hands through his hair, “you’re perfect, Gale.”

And then, surprising him, you slide off his lap and drop to your knees, slotting your body perfectly in between his legs, and in one swift motion, you free his aching cock from his undergarments and lean forward once more, fitting your lips around the head.

“O-oh,” he moans, straining to keep still as you take him deeper, your hands tracing patterns on the skin of his thighs, reaching up to his hips, your nails scratching lightly, and then, as you adjust yourself and push him back so as to get more leverage, you wrap one hand around his shaft and devote the other one to palm gently at his balls, still a touch too gentle. “Mmm – more,” he sighs, and you obey, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock and then fitting it back in your mouth, deep enough to brush the back of your throat, pre-cum salty on your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, looking up at him through lowered lashes, and his mouth falls open, releasing the most pleasurable moans and groans, sighs and mewls slipping between his lips, chanted noises that may be words – you catch the sound of your name, and please, and yes, in the chorus of sounds that escape his chest, rising and falling in octave with every swipe of your tongue and bob of your head. “P-please,” he says again, “please, let me –”

You guess his meaning, and reach behind him; the movement sending his cock to the very back of your throat, and his back arches in pleasure; and pull the strings of his bindings, untying his hands. The moment he’s free, he takes your head in his hands, cradling your jaw, and lets his fingers twine in the strands of your hair as you suck with renewed eagerness, sliding back nearly completely only to take him in fully again, the feel of his cock in your mouth dizzying, intoxicating, sending white-hot shivers through your body –

You glance down, and through the haze of pleasure, through the shadows of sunset, through the sweat and slick on your body, you see a flash of blue cupping your cunt, and you can suddenly feel the gentle, not-quite-there brush of the Mage Hand’s fingers against your clit. You war between pleasure and indignation for a moment – and indignation wins. You pull back, Gale’s weeping cock inches away from your mouth but still suspended in midair, and he huffs, putting his hands over his eyes, his pleasure cut short just on the path to climax. “Why did you –”

“No magic,” you repeat, and you can feel the Mage Hand dissolve. Gale peeks out from through his fingers, caught, and not the least bit ashamed. “Do I need to tie you up again? Completely, this time?”

“I –” His cock twitches, beads of precum leaking from the tip, stunning the both of you into silence.

You let a devilish grin slide across your face. “Oh. You want me to tie you up, love? Top to tip, completely trussed up for me?” You pull away from him and reach in your pack for more ribbon. “Red or purple, my sweet?”

Gale manages an arrogant smile, his face still flushed red. “Purple, of course.”

“Good choice,” you grin, and stand, running the ribbons through your hands reverently. “This will only take a minute,” you promise. “Why don’t you take those bothersome clothes off before I get started?”

He does, and you let your eyes run over his figure appreciatively for a minute before going to work. Hands on the ‘arms’ of the throne, the ribbon secured around a stack of encyclopedias. His legs against the respective ‘legs’ of the throne, straining slightly against his bonds. You stand before him, and he angles his hips up slightly, his eyes pleading.

“So cooperative,” you murmur, running your hands gently up his thighs. “So patient. So good.” You lift your hand to your mouth and spit on your fingers, holding eye contact, and he breathes shakily as you wrap your hand around his cock, leaning forward, mouthing kisses along his neck and collarbone. You start slowly, tantalizingly, pumping your hand along his length with a careful, measured speed that makes Gale’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Please – more,” he moans, his lips chasing yours. “Faster.”

You acquiesce, moving quicker, twisting your wrist the way you know that he likes. His breaths come faster, too, a mindless stream of yes and please and more coupled with your name falling from his mouth. You kiss him with bruising intensity, feeling his cock twitch in your fingers, his body straining against his bonds.

He comes with a muffled yell, his eyes rolling completely back in his head, and you kiss him fiercely as his come paints your stomach and thighs where you sit atop him. “Please – gods – please, untie me, let me –”

You smile against his lips and loosen the ribbons, yelping when his arms encircle you with surprising strength, lifting you up by your thighs and laying you out on the tile floor of the tower, the ground cold on your skin, your head canted back as Gale trails kisses down your thighs. “Ah – Gale,” you sigh as his fingers whisper up the inside of your legs, your skin rising with goosebumps. “I can’t –” You try to lift your head, to see where he is and what he’s doing, but your neck won’t cooperate. “What –”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Gale murmurs into your thigh, his hand lifting your leg to his lips, his beard tickling your skin pleasantly. “There’s only so long I can go without magic, my love. I thought –” Here, his tongue slides up to your cunt, tracing around your lips gently, and you moan, your boneless body arching in pleasure. “I thought you might enjoy feeling how I felt. Constrained. At my mercy.” His tongue winds a circle around your clit, and your breaths come faster, your thighs shaking madly. “Do you?”

“Do I – ah – what?”

“Enjoy it,” Gale says into your cunt, and the vibration makes you shudder.

“I – yes, I – please, I want to touch you, I want to –”

“Mmm,” Gale hums, his tongue working careful, restrained circles around your clit, dipping down to taste your slick. “Not yet.”

It’s been less than two minutes, and you’re already shaking, riding high, your eyes unfocused, as Gale takes you apart with his tongue. The painted constellations of the ceiling dance in and out of focus, and your moans echo around the circular tower, a mix of yes and please and Gale falling from your mouth, a reminder of the way you coaxed Gale’s orgasm from him with delicate fingers not five minutes before. “Gale, I – oh, gods, I can’t – please, I want to see you, I –”

The spell breaks, and you lift your head to see Gale’s face completely buried in your cunt, his sweaty hair spread out on your thighs, his eyes closed in ecstasy, and the image is enough to send you over the edge, a scream in your throat, your legs shaking wildly as you come, Gale’s tongue still working at you gently, until the sensation is too much and you kick him softly, signaling get off me, because your vocal cords aren’t working at the moment.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, and crawls up to kiss you, and you taste yourself on his tongue, salty-sweet and heady. “But we should probably go before Rolan comes back. I suspect we won’t have an opportunity to take advantage of his hospitality again.”

“Gale…” You wind your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, your eyes fluttering shut. “You might have to Dimension Door us out of here. I don’t think my legs will move.”

“I’ll carry you,” he smiles, and helping you stand, he laces his robes back up and aids you in buckling your armor. “Now come. There’s a bath at the Elfsong that’s calling my name.”

You sigh softly, leaning your head into his shoulder, and watch dreamily as he conjures the portal. “Wait – what about the Annals?”

“Oh.” Gale looks down at the lower levels of the tower. “I suppose we’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He looks almost downcast, but then the expression fades, and he’s just Gale again, smiling at you. “Let’s go.”

[yazihowell]

God, What Have You Done?

Drabble, 431 words

Backstage, as Dan’s gotten changed into Sister Daniel. Spoilers for Terrible Influence!

There’s a moment backstage, the second the tights are on. The dress lays lightly over his thighs, and the habit is pushing down over his hair, giving him curly little bangs. He’s got several seconds - minutes, really - to get into costume, but that’s nothing in the middle of a live stage show.

Tonight, though, it’s different. He gets the dress on too quickly, and he can hear Phil’s monologue loud in his ears at a much earlier point than usual. He’s in position, and he’s off to the side enough that he can only just see Phil. He can feel him, though. He knows the expression on his face, the gentle sincerity as he talks about the hiatus, sans standing microphone. Dan can hear the love in his voice as tells their fans that maybe the hiatus was - a good thing. He can hear the audience agree.

Dan can feel his heart thump in his chest. He’s suddenly starkly aware of the rosary around his neck. The habit falls onto his shoulders the same way he can imagine long hair would, if he had it. The tights hug his thighs, centering him in this moment, and he grips onto Phil’s all black priest outfit in his hand.

His heart still pounds as he places his other hand on the rosary. His fingers brush over it, the touch cool against his warm hand.

He still remembers bringing up Sister Daniel’s involvement in the show to Phil. It was obvious, really. Like putting the Golden Pig on stage. A joke within their community, but an important joke that their audience loves.

In many ways though, they both know She isn’t a joke. She represents - something. Everything. Their audience have noticed, of course they have, how she moves differently to Dan - even when she’s wearing underwear. She openly flirts with Phil. She’s - she. She should be a joke, and yet she heals something deep within Dan when she steps off the wings of the stage and saunters over to Phil, swinging his cross around her finger.

Dan no longer prays to God each night in the hopes of making him straight. He wouldn’t do that anymore anyway. But Sister Daniel allows him to play, to turn that old wound into something new, something fun, something queer, and he gets to do it all with Phil. Phil, who’s talking about how much he loves his audience, how much they both love them. He’s talking about forgiving ourselves, and - that’s his cue.

That’s her cue.

She takes one deep breath, and she starts talking. She’s happy.

[yourlocalmechanism-dr-carmilla]

Little guy was cold so i put him in my jacket- his name is Bastard by the way. Alice, whom i have picked up recently from london, seems to be rather fond of him- maybe hell help her adjust

[Little guy was cold so i put him in my jacket- his name is Bastard by the way. Alice, whom i have picked up recently from london, seems to be rather fond of him- maybe hell help her adjust]

[bsptourist]

Do you have any favorite Garry's mode map and/or source engine level?

I have a couple of queued posts that'll go up in the next month featuring a couple of all-timers. But off the top of my dome— de_prodigy, cs_militia, zs_barrelfactory, gm_voidspaces, ttt_67thway, gm_ashwga, gm_liminal_commercial, d1_canals_12, rp_omgcity_final

[sharenalovemail]

[A transcription of all the text from the images will be under the cut at the end of this post]

It's been a while, but it's finally here! #SharenaWeek will be real (or i'll die trying)

After some back and forth, we settled on June for this event - giving us nearly two months to work with as of posting this!

If you have any questions about anything in this post feel free to send an ask here or to @sharenaweek ! (For example if you need a prompt explained, or if I missed something)

#SharenaWeek / #SharenaWeek2024 will be held from June 9th 2024 to June 15th of the same year

RULES

Make sure to use the #SharenaWeek and/or ⁠⁠#SharenaWeek2024 tags when you post your work.

You can also @ either this blog (@sharenalovemail) or the one made especially for this event (@sharenaweek) or even both if you wish so. Tagged posts will be shared on both blogs, but the one dedicated to the event will work best as an archive!

While the main event will be during the week of June 9th to June 15th 2024, you can take as long as you need and post late if needed. Just make sure to follow the above two rules so we can find them and share them then!

You don't have to post for every day if you can't — remember that this event is first and foremost to have fun.

Anyone can participate! Any and all posts are welcomed: fanfiction, drawing, painting, sprite editing, poetry, headcanon/analysis posts, AMVs — literally anything, as long as you made it (or commissioned it, if that's the case) counts!

Prompts can be interpreted in any way you want.

Have fun, and remember to tag your works accordingly, especially if they feature NSFW content (gore, nudity, etc) or heavy topics (remember to not censor your tags, otherwise people who don't want to see that content won't be able to avoid it!).

PROMPTS

(6/09) Day 1: Past and Future

(Childhood memories, time post wars - anything before and after FE:H)

(6/10) Day 2: Resplendent

(Design a new Alt for her - be it an existing banner or a new theme!)

(6/11) Day 3: Celebration

(Outfits, Scenes, Dialogue - anything you love most about her!)

(6/12) Day 4: Forging Bonds

(Relationships - familial, platonic, romantic, any kind!)

(6/13) Day 5: Change of Fate

(AUs, her situation with Peony, crossovers - you name it!)

(6/14) Day 6: Meet The Heroes

(Sharena's goal is to befriend all of the Heroes - help her do it!)

(6/15) Day 7: Free Day

(Anything goes - including repeats of above prompts!)

EXTRA PROMPTS

You can use as many or as little of these as you want, either to replace the main 7 prompts or to add to them!

One Word Prompts:

Nature

Fairies

Family

Summer

Birthday

Surprise

Picnic

Flowers

Yearning

Hugs/Cuddles

Outfit Prompts:

Brave Alt

Attuned Alt

Modern

Fancy

Frilly

Winter

Beach

Cosplay/Costume

Party

Sleepwear

Alternate Universes:

Modern Setting

High School/College/University

Character Swap

Cyberpunk

Book/Realm Swap

Animals

Actors

Reincarnation

Daemons

Dungeons & Dragons

[16bruises]

If you or anyone you know uses google docs to write please please stop using google!

Google has made an ai program for google docs. Inevitably, google is likely going to end up feeding work that is done on google docs to an ai, without the consent of authors, for their own gain.

this is a link to a tiktok video of someone talking about her own experiences with google doc ai

this is a link to a tiktok video of someone giving more information on the situation and what to do

I will let it be known, I’m freaking out so I’m not thinking as clearly as I should and will probably have to go back and edit this post to word things better later but please please please get this information out as far as you can

[cacodaemonia]

Curly/smart quotes in google docs

So, I know that formal advice for writing says to always use curly quotes rather than straight quotes. For reference, the first line in the image below has curly quotes and the second has straight quotes (the curly/straight thing also applies to single quotes/apostrophes):

Allegedly, curly quotes are easier to read than straight quotes, but I've never found that to be the case, and I just prefer the compact simplicity of straight quotes.

However, their main benefit in my eyes is that they don't fuck up html. As you can see in this chart from Practical Typography, straight and curly quotes are fundamentally different characters on computers:

So if you're writing in google docs with the intention of pasting something it into AO3's summary, notes, end notes, comments, or main text html boxes, be aware that those curly quotes are going to destroy html for things like links and images.

I've had curly quotes turned off for so long that I'm not sure if this very handy AO3 posting script for Google Docs converts them to straight quotes or not, but either way, I wanted to share how to turn curly quotes off if you want.

First, go to Tools, then Preferences:

Under Preferences, in the General section, uncheck 'Use smart quotes.' You can also fiddle with other things in Substitutions, which is handy, but that's up to you.

Keep in mind that this will not convert all of your curly quotes to straight, or vice versa. It only changes what you type after changing the setting. If you want to convert all of your double and single quotes, you'll have to run a find and replace.

Anyway, I'm sure plenty of writers will be horrified by this, but it's made my life a lot easier. So if, like me, you use quite a bit of html on AO3 and have no plans to become a published author, you can try out straight quotes if you feel like it. ✌️

[rainbowwyrm]

Introducing Marina: Your shining savior!

“Like a beacon of light amidst a dark storm, Marina del Phis is here to brighten your day! Hailing from the deepest depths of the ocean, her role is to provide peace and prosperity with the power of her magical pearl, which allows her to grant any wish no matter how big or small. Her enchanting voice also brings bliss to those hearing it, making her a worldwide pop sensation.”

Read the full description (and further information) here!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1gixwNtEwwh0IkLgZ6Tv0N6Jdovd4WQpJwhjZR9ZM46Y/edit?usp=sharing

Reblogs are appreciated!

Extras:

[acvdemias]

    this  is  intended  to  be  an  all  in  one  template  especially  designed  for  rpg  applications  ───  featuring  a  dark  aesthetic  +  a  cover  page  and  an  ending  page  +  room  for  ooc  and  ic  information  +  a  drabble  section  +  a  section  for  writing  of  any  length  +  a  final  mini  section.  all  with  images  you  can  replace.  due  to  the  Work™  i  put  in,  this  is  a  premium  template  ───  on  sale  until  the  26th  !    please  like  and  /  or  reblog  this  post  if  you  use  /  like  this  template  .  the  link  can  be  found  at  the  source  ───  just  go  to  file  >  make  a  copy  to  use  .  feel  free  to  edit  this  as  much  as  you’d  like  ,  but  please  do  not  remove  the  credit  .  for  this  template  ,  it  is  required  ,  but  feel  free  to  edit  it  as  much  as  you’d  like  to  fit  your  aesthetic  ,  as  long  as  it  remains  both  visible  &  legible  .  thank  you  !

[skibasyndrome]

okay so, if you were to read a multi-chaptered fic, would you rather have shorter chapters or longer ones?

(the number is kinda random, I didn't know where to draw the line)

[sejanusarchive]

Alright, took a break from Tumblr but I’m back and the amount of drafts I have accumulated is getting ridiculous. Would it be super annoying if I posted a bunch of them? It wouldn’t be well thought out stuff, and some of them are very unserious as well

[secretly-a-trekkie]

boutta start unfollowing tags bc my own art is haunting me. BEGONE DEMON you had so much potential

[planet-dusk]

i have so many ideas i want to write or am writing,, but idk how i feel about posting on here these days..... it's so quiet? interaction is at an all time low ;-; i miss our community. people are just here to consume and it's disheartening tbh

[yellowvixen]

How am I supposed to talk about every single sonic tarot card when there's a 30 image limit. Can they put it up to 78. For me