#want?

[simder-talia-blog]

*this just popped into my head remembering my beginner days when seeing some other discouraged new creators / simmers who were feeling a bit left out. i hope it gives you a laugh :)

and a little side note for those lovelies if they see this: i know it can be hard when you are first starting creating, or sharing a stories, etc. if you're new and feeling like it's hard to get involvement with your blog, you are more than welcome to tag me so i see it and can share your post. Unless someone has every blog they want to keep track of bookmarked and in their own folder, & going through it regularly, it would be impossible to notice all of them. Sometimes I miss posts by my favorite creators and it's just because it's hard to keep up. There are other blogs that welcome tags as well, you will see many yourself i am sure, but at the bottom of my own CC posts there are a few great finds blogs that want to share all the fun CC! (and stories, and gameplay, etc!)

Also, stories are something I've been perplexed about going about sharing of those posts. Do I start reblogging the first one I see when I become interested? Do I go to the beginning and reblog that one with my recommendation for others who love to read the stories? I have somewhat of a fixation on being organized, sometimes it causes unintended procrastination, but stories are something I want to start sharing more on this blog. So a little feedback from the story tellers would be greatly appreciated!

[magicsugarbaby]

C̵̠̟̦̄͒̉̊͠ỏ̵̦̮̠̹̤̑̈́̄͐m̵̬̲̚m̴̧̤̹̂̏͑̚͜ṹ̴̖̓̆n̷̩̄̃͝ę̴̹̯̘͘

It had been a while, and a completely different Inn, but the Commander's Arms still let him have a room all to himself, in addition to the big room he shared with his friends. Jason actually asked for one without windows, and got all the cheaper for the lack of them.

He was pretty sure it was intended as a store room in the original construction, but he didn't care. All he had to do was jam some fabric under the door and blow out the candles, and he was half way to summoning his patron. The other half was the blackly glowing orb sat on the bed from which he'd yanked the sheets to black out the doorjam. And of course, he had to be naked, not that anyone could see his nude form in the dark, save for the barest outline. He spent a few minutes in supplication to the orb, forehead touching the floor as he waited, until suddenly he realized he'd been hearing soft rustlings, slithers, something slimy sliding over something else just as slimy, for minutes now.

"I had a question," he said eventually, when nothing immediately seized him or spoke. "What do you want?"

W̶̛͎̞̬̘̦͈̦͉͌̾̇̎͒̐̃̇̀̀̌̽̅̕͝ͅa̶̡͇̪̔̏͒͛͒̄̅̋̓̋́͝n̴̥̞̏̇̀͋̏̇̓̋̒̾͋͒͘t̵̨̨̢̻̱̤̠͈̅͊̇̿̎̽̂͛̇̚͝?̴̡̥̜̮̞̖͖͍͚̠̃̅̀̀̈́͂͒̏͒͊͘͠ͅ

"What is the purpose of our contract?" Jason clarified, lifting his head to watch as tentacles writhed, filling the room, coming from everywhere and nowhere.

H̶̨͖̬͍̭̠̤̩̲̼̱̺̀̽̓̕̚͘͘͜á̸̯̭͖͓̀̒̓̔̏̏̇͠͝͝ṿ̴̨͉̹͚͓̰̰̺̟̥̪̱͗̐̍̾̄̂͌͠͠è̷̮̠̗̣̩͉̆͐͒̈́̇͘ ̵͔͔͚̩̯̣͕̲̣̞̼̳͗͛̍́̀͂̅͌͗̑̀̚͜y̴͉̳͎̯̥͇̰͎͆̌̂̓ơ̸̡͚̤̗͙̥̟͆̑̃̉͛̒ͅͅṵ̶̡͙͓̺̪̠̞̹̊͋̆̈́͆͐̾̇̋͑̈́̒͝͠͠ ̷̨̧̩̞͕̪̞̭̠̝͔͎͗̉̇̍̉̏̽̃̍́̓̽̉͑̂͜͝͝f̷̧̫̟͕̣̞̤̙̲̗̟̪̌͋̈́͋̈́̀͐̽̀́͘͘͘͜ͅo̶̧̻̬͕͎̪͙͑́̓̇͒̃͒̏͑̌̉̾̽̕r̶̡͎̘͎̩̱͉̍̅̌͆̒̈́̏̅̚ğ̶̘̙̩̖̦̥̈́͋̋͆̇̓̓̓̀̕o̷̡̨͇̼̰̠̲̎̎̑͒̈́̋͘ͅț̴̨̨̡̯̬̜̽̌͐̿̕t̵̡̛̞̰̺͙̝̣̫̠̟̙̳̎͑̉̊͑͑̈́e̴̦̫̤̲͖̟̞̽̈́̌͒̈́̈ͅn̴̢̮̥̼͉͎͉͍̭̗̞̟̘͎͈̺̆͗͑̾̈́̐̓̈̑̇͋̾̀̆̿͝ͅ ̸̨̧̧̯͚͔͓̜̞̤̣̔̔͐͠w̷̨̬̞̩̹̞̦̣͈̯͙̘̘͌́͂͂̐͠ĥ̷̙͙̗̠̬̣̯̲̐̾͒̃̈́͐̇͝a̵̯̋̎́͑͗͝t̷̫̲͖̩̜̳͆͋̓̾̓̏́͋͌͑͋͆͠͝ ̸̨̫̻̝̜͉͐́͑y̸̢̤̺̯͉̣̝͒̈́̈́̓̃̎̐͂̓̆̍̾̂̀̂͘̚o̴͙̭̦̘͕̩͋̌̔̑͂͌́̿̏̓͗͊̚͘̚̚ú̶̩̳̠̖̤̦͈͉̼̈́͊ ̵̡͚̍̈͌͌͝y̸̟͔͈̟̞̪̳̳̥̘͗o̶͈̯̘͔̠̤͇̣̝̪̒͌̐͐̀̅͜͝͠u̴̢̥͓̖̥͂̆̄r̷͓̓̆̆͂̐̐̍̓̽̀̿͆̓̈͝ś̶̨͉̺̺̟̺̭̦͖̥̜̣͎̿̈̾̓̎́͒͒̓̑͒̍ę̶̘̟͇͍͐̀l̴͔̜̘͍̖̪̱̥͐̓͋͒̓̂̅̄̑͗͛̚͝f̸̧̪̱̗̗̫̙̩̖͖̝̝̥̤̽̍̏̓́̔̾̈́̽̈́̌͘̕̕͝͝ͅ ̵̤̝̯͉̣̤̲̣̦̰͕͍̱̲̐͑̉͂͌̏̂͆̒̈͠͠ͅw̸̹̜͚̱̞͚̭͙̺͔̲̝͇͊͛̍̌r̵̛̹̩͖̠̞̗͔̗̟̓̒͐̽͑́̔͒̾̊͘͝o̸̡̩̮̣̜͛̐͆̏̋́t̴͈͇̱̦̱͒̋͑̃̒̐̚͜͜ë̷̡̢̡̠̪̞̩̩̜̭͎̺͚́̌̍̈́̓̔͂͆́̋̿̍̆̏͒͘͝ͅ?̷͎̮͔͕͚͌̂̊̑̓̑̾͘

"We both know that I wrote that to be funny," Jason said, pouting a little. "What do you actually want? I don't believe you just want to watch me fuck a bunch of inhuman people while occasionally sampling the goods."

W̷̡̡̧̙̪̟͉̯̖̮̔͆̑̃̿͑͑́͘ͅh̶̞͚̱͉̜̀͒̌̈́̍̔͋̏͠͝͝ỵ̶͓͙͌̏̓̐̓̿̈́̆̑̈́͐͑̽̍̃́͠ ̵̢̨̧̠͈̝͖̪̻̭̞̤̘̺͕͉͂͑n̴̬͎͋͛̃̏̃͆́̓̃͋̕͠͝o̶̲̥̦͔̝̙̪̔͂̐̀͒̍͛̾̄̀͘��̢̩̼̬͎̟̰̖͕ț̶̞̫̮̔̈́́̈́̅̔͘?̶͈̭̖͍̖̹̃̀̓̈̽͒̇̑̍̎͘ ̷̦̮̥̬͈̤̃̅͛̈͛̂̒̀̾́I̶̡̤̖͍̎ͅ ̵̬̯̊͑͛̃̏̈́͒̈́̍͂̀͝ę̵͎͒̓̽̍̋̋̋͆̽̽̕͠͝͝n̷̩͚̜̫̯̻̓͑͊͋̈̉̑͒̔̚͘͜j̶̡̨̛̯͇̞̝̠͈͗̓̒̍̈́̒̊̑̆͑̓͒̉͊̓͠ͅo̷̼̠̝͛͗ͅŷ̵̢̱̝̝̭̫̱̝͖̞̪͌́͌͒̐̓͒͘͜͝ ̸̟̜̮̬̩́̅̋̄̅̋̊̽̄̽͝ͅͅļ̵̘̱̫͉͙̪̜͓̰͎̝̣͕̊̅͊͊̌u̶̗͍̬̜̼̥͎̎̌̔͐̿͆̆̃̎̀͌̚s̵̨̛̠̠̃̿̽̀͊̈́̎͂̈̀̀͠t̷̢̜̳͚͙͖͎̱̃̔͂͝ ̶̧̞͓̮̞̼͉̜͊̍̆͐̓͋͂̋͜͝ḯ̴̗̩̪̼n̵̢͚̟̪̣̟̗̜̲͎̰̖̎͑ ̴̺͍̦̩͍͓̯̓̌͆̏͛̐͊́͗̒̽̓͒̉ĩ̵̛̛͉̲̬͑̇̓̓͑̽̑̋̍̈́̏̾͠ṭ̶̡̝̬̬̣͉̲̱̈̂̐͂̒̏̂̆̔͜͝͝ş̶̛̻̗̖͎̫̺̪̋̒́́̿̅͊ ̴̨̭̖̳̫̤̦̗̙͎̦̪̲͍̾͌̃̎̿̄͋̾̀̾̀̎̍̕͠m̴̬͔͓͍̩͍͈̣̬͊a̸̡̜͍̦̞̺̝̞̖͎̼̮̯̎͑͊͑͗͛͐ͅn̵̡̛̥̲̜̞̝̥̠̱͇̈́̍̐̽̐̄͂͌̌͛́̂̚̕͘͜ÿ̵̢̝̺̘̥̬̘̬̗̞͙̤͓̣̈̌̏̋̒̄͂̍̉̚ ̴͓̺̭͕̟̼̳̗͚̲̥̖̦̜͖̊̊͝f̷̛̜͚̍͑͑̅̈́̆̈́͂̈̀͘̕o̶̰͇̼̦̗͕̼̬̺͍̝̪̱̐͗͒̆̽̈́̒̀́̐͝ŗ̵̧͉̫͐̔̈̄m̷̢̧̛̙͉̳͎̥̗͕̙͍͚̰̭̱͕͐̈͆̿̊̉̈́̚͝͠ͅs̵̼̤̠̭̙͉̯̞̼̥̙̭̪͕͇͈̿̀͂̐͗̅̓͛̓̓͘͝͝.̶̨̗͉͖̖͓̦̹̫̭͔̺̔̇͒̇̓̎̑̐̚͜

"I think you have better things to do, and better people to do it through."

Ḑ̴͓͈̄̃̒͌̽͊̾̂̈́́̈́͘͘͘͘͝o̸̥̯̻̪̙͓͈̘̿̒̋ ̶̛͍̗̜̬̖̜͓͔̖̎̆͌̈̈̈́̈́͑̈́̅̈͊̒͐̊y̷̧̨̛̪͔͔͕͈͇̪̲͈͙̜o̶̡̤̰͚̼̻͓̣͉̖͙͍̼̺͔̘͗͊̓̔̂̄͛͑͐̒̀͛̂͠͝ų̵̫̜͍̭̲̯͇̗̔̇̋̐̽̇̍͒͗ ̴̨̡̭̝̱̞̭̫͙̺̪̱͆̊͒̈̕͝͝͝ş̴̫̥̯̯͙͖̼͒͗a̴̤̝̪͉͚͕͓̹͕̻̭͍̯̰̪̞̓͐͠ͅy̸̧̧͚͖̮͇̖͍̯̗̆͛͌̈́͝ ̶̢̨̱͉͖̯̲̮͕̭̙͈͌͑̑̅̃̈́͆̅̚͘͜Ȉ̷̟͈̫̦̪̘̇̀͂̅̈́̊͜͝ ̵̧͔̙͖͍͔̔́͐̅͂̈̄̋̓̾̈́͘͜l̷̇̀̈́͛̍̔̉͘̚̕��̼͈̖͙̭͒̃̉͑i̸̞̥̟͔̟̘̰͔͎̾̐̚͜͠ͅͅe̵̢̛̦̪̝͚͓͔̲̰̳̬͌͊̑̊̈́̉̈̉̕͜͝?̶̨̭̤̞̥́̂̒͒̽̋͂͘̚͜͠͝

It was hard to say that this entity had any kind of tone, considering he wasn't entirely sure it was using a mouth to speak, but Jason got the feeling that he was treading on a boundary of goodwill.

"I would never say that," he back peddled. "But I would say you omit..."

Y̶̜̦̙̭͓̪͉̽̋ó̶̺̮̤̭̞̺̘̏̈̾̒ụ̷͕͖͓̈ ̶̧͚̗̻̺̱̻͚͔̬͓͒͐̿̏̿a̶̢̛̬͚̼͈͓̻͎̘̋̀̓͊̒̌̉r̷̡̨̥͈͍̻͕͕̭̘̦̳͗͐̔ͅĕ̶͍̺͉̻͇̪̙̦͕͎̦͓͙̗̭̝͓̊̈͐̈͋͒̇́̉͝ ̴̨̦̲͔̟̙̻̬̻̥͑ä̶̡̡̖̗̭̼͇̘͕́̃̄̃̈́͗̓̉͆̈̿̈́̉͂̉͑̕ ̶͔̎̈́͗ĉ̴̎̒̍̔̍̀̒͑ͅa̸̙̦̲̿͒̈́͊̅̅̒̃̑̋̚͝ņ̶̛͓̱͖̲̼̠̥͚̯̞̟̰͔̬̮̉͌̉́͌͋̔͆̑̿̄̆̆̐̋̓ņ̵̡̙͎̱̮̫͓͚̪̗̕ͅy̷̥̑͊̈́̋̐͊̉̇͠͝ͅ ̷͉̲͍̭̠͊̋̈̋͌̑́̉́̀̕m̷͚̲̪̺̯̖̓̆̔̀̆̎̈́̀̄̒͗̀̕͘̚͘͘͜ͅǫ̸̝͈̮̱̜͇̼̳̪̱̟̏̍̿̒̈́͗̈́͗̈́́̍͐͝͝ṟ̵̡̨̤̠̬̟͖̙͕̺̏̋́̈́̎̽͊͗͋͛͂ţ̵̧͙̳͙̘͕̣̳̘͇̻͎̮̙̓à̴̛͉̋͗̽̽͑̓͋̉͋͋̏̊̽̈́̒l̶̢̰̳̹̻̮̮̪̗̤͚̓͐͆͂͐͌͋̐̎̆̇͊̓͘͝,̸̩̳̰̳͓̭͍̮͑͜͜ ̸͔̤̝͈̗̬̮̓̏́̔͑̃͒̐̎̋͘͘͝f̵̡̢̝͇̜͓̜̞̊̄̍̂̑̄́̉̕͝ơ̷̡̡̮̻̹̝̟̄͋̌̽́̌͆̽̽ř̷̨͚͍̦̭̾̀̋̿̅̅͠ ̴̼̖̱͌̿̀ą̸̡̦̤̲̗̖̳̗͈̺̊͋̅̉͛͂̋̓̅̑̀̾̚͝l̶̦̝͚̬̙̀͒͐́͒̂̏͑͋̏̚l̵͎̺̤̳̮͓̥̣̗̪̥̦̱̩͎͛́͜ ̸̧̧̨̡̫̱̞͕̰̟̯̝̬̟̱́̊̓̈́̉̋͌̒͂̂̕ÿ̷̨̛̛͚͚͋͊̅̾̊̂̎͛̾͆̍̒̔͘o̵̡̨̡̠̭͉̥͚̯̥͌͂̄̇̎͜͠u̵̢̱̰̫̪̞̼̙̝̫̦͍̪͋̌̃ͅr̶͕͍͖̓̈́͆̓̍́̄̒͜ ̸̢̧̨̨̛͔̺̜̰̜͕̞̟̜̙͌̾̑͗̀̿̊͝f̸̤̺̝̪̲̭̝̒̇̾̾͒̒̌͐͛͊̊a̷̢̡̛̖͉̤̙̰̞͓̓̾͊̂̈̄͛̊̔̋̚͜i̵̛͍̣̣̤̝̝̋͋̆̽͠l̸̙̙̯͖̿̒͌͗̔̅͐̾̿̈̿î̸̛̬̤̫͙̬̐͛̌̅̎̿̊͊̈́͊͛̈̓̉͘ṇ̵̡̩̤̪͔͉̟̣̂̑̏̏͑͆́͌͜͝g̴̨͓̝͓̫̩̳̖̥̱̲̪̑̅͑̔̊̈̚͜ś̶̨̯̬̮͉̟̟̰͝.̸̨̤̱̠̝̦̤̞̹͖͖̦͖͙͔̊͊͐̇̔ͅ ̷̢̱̼͕̗̠́͑͆̓̈́̉̓͊̏̕͠͝͠͠V̸̢̯̫̝͕̖̜͎̝̈̒̈̌́̊̿̓͂́̂ȩ̴̧͓̹̯͍̰͓͈̟̱͈̈́͂̈̐̅̓̄̚͠ͅŗ̷̠̩̟̤̼̬̳̯͕̗̝͌̔͆̂̔͗̏͆̏͒͝y̷̭͇̙̞͉̰̿͑̓͊̋̓͒̓͊̀͗̔̇̕͝ ̵̧̧̫̮̞̠̗̖͔̿̑̎͐͋͗̾̾̉̎͛͑͛w̸̝͙̩̤͉̠̮̏̓́͐́̅͋̀̐͐͊̽̊͘̕͜͝ȩ̷̬͚̖͛̐͛̈́̽̀ļ̷͇̼̰̣̙̦͐̓̈́̈́̈́̽́́́̊͛͝l̵̢̨̠̹̥̹̥̬̹̓̾̀́̔̓͑́͗̓̏̂̐̀,̷̢̧̛̤̭̹̙̖̬̣̲͉̙̜͚͉͐̏̀̍̒̇̓̌̇̓̎͌͛͑͊͘ ̵̨̞̻̘͖̝̲̗̜͔̖̒̔̓̀͗̍̽͜͠ͅĮ̸̛̟͖̥̠͒́̈́̑͒̈́̽̿̿͝ ̴̨̛̋̉̌͒̓͆̊̔̑̿ẁ̸̨̪̝̲̹̞͔͌̃̏ī̵̛͎̊̿̀͛̌͆͂́̊̂̅̃͝l̴̨͕͓̟̣̖̍̍̆̇̒̊͌̄́̚͘̕l̷̖̊̏̀͝͠ ̴̺̤̥̜̝̦͇̥̬̟̗͍͍͙̓̾̆́̃̈́͊͌̈́͑s̷̡̺̜̦͇̥̀͗͝h̶̲͚̗̔͜͝ȃ̴̛̻̮͉̦͎͗̀͐͗͑͒̊͘͝͠r̸̡̡̛͙͑̆͂̊̓̉̈́̐̎̀̾͋̔̉̕ȩ̷̟̹̱͈̗̺̦̫͇̝̤̽̅̓̈́̾͐̈́̍͑̂͐̀̇̍͝͠͝.̶̧̰̘̤̝̠̰͚̓̈́̃͛̅́́̎̽͛͂̀͒̾̚̚͝ͅ.̶̢̧̱̫͈̖̣̣̦͍̞̮̪̥̇͐͐̂͛͒̓͛̕̚͘͜ͅ.̴͖͔̟͈̞͙̞͐̈́̋̓̊͛͒̅̿̇̊͘̚̕ͅ ̷͓̥̱͍̮̝̝͈͓͎̣͐͋͆̈́̾̎͆̅͗̄̓̃͂̾͘͠à̵̞̘̋̏͑̀̋̎͜͠ ̵̛̯͖͚̠̄̿̈́̎͋̐̇̎̄̄̈́̑̚͘͝ͅg̶̡͙̙̣̱̮̍̄̍̆͊l̷͙͖͈͓̖͚̫̄̑ȋ̸̢̢͙̹͎̖͉̭̺̦̠̫̻̥͍̘̉̏͒̾͐̂͆ͅm̴̨̨̨̱̟̘̝̱̺͇̱͖͔͐͒̾̈̒̓͐̅̆̽̃͊̈͐̔̕p̴̡̛̛̟͎͍̼͙͓̤̥͓͓̹̯̜͙̽͋̆̇͊̍̑̑̃̈́͑͗ͅͅs̸̡͎͔͔̍̋̆̚͝e̷̯̰͓͖͉̫̭͖̖̱͎̥͊̕͜.̸̧͎͔̖̤̜͔̼͈̬̪̲͕̜̃̋̒̂̃̓̔̈́̌̈́ͅ

Before Jason could object or question, or even react, the tentacles suddenly lurched towards him, snaring him as easily as any rabbit in a trap, binding him as surely as any shackle or rope.

And then one went in his ear, a thin tendril that wormed through the canal, pierced the drum with a jolt of pain, crawling deeper and deeper, winding its way in where nothing was ever meant to go, and suddenly he saw it.

An obelisk made of hardened shadows, crawling with indecipherable runes atop runes atop runes atop runes he could almost read them if he just looked closer stared longer offered more of himself

An obelisk made of bone, smeared with blood that revealed writing in Latin lettering dragging sounds of ecstasy from his throat in pronounciation

An obelisk made of light that burned his eyes from their sockets but he could not look away he didn't want to look away why would he ever look away he could still see the shadows

A mountain, hollow, jutting upwards towards a roiling sea that hung impossibly where a sky should be, holding a dark star.

Ỳ̵̅̂̎̒͐̽̈́̌͊̔̏̂̀̃̇��̢͖͔̦̳̫̦̠̳Ő̴̟̈́͑̄̃U̸̡̳̻̥̝͇͉̲̻̣̲̱͙̜͊́̀̀̀̀͊ ̵̣̺̰̱̲̹̬̤̐̅͊̾̔͂͒͑͋͊͒͊͠W̶̝͍̻̜̝̞̤̱̪̳̺̮̏̊͗̆̒̈́͋͗̋̆Ĭ̵̡̢̛̠̝̦͙͔̭̬͚̥̔̆͂̊͆͊͊̑̑̾͘͘̕͜͜ͅḶ̴̥̟͎͓͙͕͓̤̬̞̂̿́̋̐̎͝ͅL̷͚͖͂̏̑̄ ̵̼́̚P̵̡̢͙̮̠͇͕̫̮̜̥͉̮̥̞̉͐̐̓R̶̢̧͚̦̭̱͙̜̮̬͈̖̆̂̅͒̆̈́̃̓ͅE̷̯̔P̸̨̱̹͖̼͔̭̦̯̦̰̹͚̙͛͒̔͐̀̀͐̓̄̓̿͘̕ͅẠ̷͍̫̥̻͍͚͚̤͕͓̟͍̮͍͎̌͛̓̀̄͐͊͒͌̕͘͠ͅR̶̨̢̢̢̛̜̣̰̝͎̮̼̠̱̒̑͊̐́̄̓̾̍́̈́̌̈́ͅÉ̴̛̞̘̲̏̇̓̅̅̈́̏̇̏́̋̚̚ ̷̣̤͉̉̔̽͜Ṱ̴̡̧̳̜̤̟̟͚̲̪̮̔̈́̀H̷̻͇̺̜̘̟̼̐͐̋̆́̄͑̉̊͘Ė̶̲̙͎̼̋͛͋̅̌̈́̍̇͂̍ ̵̩͈̠̥̪͎͓̙̘̤͇̣̅͛̊̚Ẅ̵̺͙̦͍̥͍̑A̷̧̘͇̲̠̝͈̺̣̻͍̓̿̚Y̷̧̨̨̤̭̟͖̖̠̺̜̤̘̻̞̬̥̽͒̅̋

And the world went white.

And Jason woke, on the floor, coated and filled with a substance that was best not discussed in polite company. It was even oozing out of his ears... Eugh.

And Jason had no idea what to do with any of that.

"Great. Now I'm the fuckin... Fantasy antichrist or something."

[bugsinthebayou]

cunty sukuna

[kitsnicket]

[fly-the-pattern]

The dino benches are super cute. The angle is a little weird, though. And there's other seating if you're scared of dinosaurs. Looks like there's non-dino flat benches in the back on the right and a raised stone bench / retaining wall area on the left with grass and trees. I'm a little worried that there's no arm rests on any of the seating areas, though. It might be difficult for people with mobility issues to stand back up. Super cute for in front of a dino museum, though! And I totally want one.

[scramratz]

[roach-works]

speculative fiction writers i am going to give you a really urgent piece of advice: don't say numbers. don't give your readers any numbers. how heavy is the sword? lots. how old is that city? plenty. how big is the fort? massive. how fast is the spaceship? not very, it's secondhand.

the minute you say a number your readers can check your math and you cannot do math better than your most autistic critic. i guarantee. don't let your readers do any math. when did something happen? awhile ago. how many bullets can that gun fire? trick question, it shoots lasers, and it shoots em HARD.

you are lying to people for fun. if you let them do math at you the lie collapses and it's no fun anymore.

[faeriekit]

"This fic was ai generated—" Cool, so lemme block you real quick

[dsmsix]

thought I was muted and just had this exchange with a coworker on a zoom call

[everythingwasnormalhere]

pls rb if you think cuddling doesn't have to be s3xual

im tryna prove a point to my bf's mother help me out

[girldraki]

[dredsina]

Ive said this before but swear the biggest skill to learn as an adult is how to resist high-pressure sales tactics. You do NOT have to answer questions with anything other than "Sorry I'm not interested." No matter how nice they are or no matter how many follow up questions they ask or even how agitated they get when you stand your ground. Just keep saying I'm not interested. Don't answer their questions. Don't give them an opening to try to push back on your reasons. Be a fucking brick wall of I'm not interested.

[froody]

cis people will say “I found out I’m having a baby girl at my anatomy scan and I’m experiencing gender disappointment” but be mad when you say “who knows? maybe you’ll end up with a son anyway”

[kianamaiart]

Pretty Pretty Please I Don't Want to be a Magical Girl

While I’d want this concept to mostly be a lighthearted comedy, since that’s more my forte, the north star (heh) of this premise would be the loss of passion for something you once loved, feeling the pressure/expectations of sticking with something that you’re “a prodigy” at and the subsequent burnout. How hard do you fight for an old passion or at what point do you just let it go? Is it even okay to give up when so many people are counting on you? 

Sounds bleak but I promise I’m an optimist and that will always reflect in my work :)

[witchhickx]

Mean Girls (2004) House MD (2009)