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Lol a mom and in your 30s? What're u doing writing smut?

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I never even knew that had a name.
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idk why women's bathrooms exist when women don't poop or pee
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just thinking about uh… tough guys with fever flushed cheeks glistening slightly with a light sheen of sweat
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An ant: *Glows when the Wizard is casting Detect Magic*
“Is it magical?” -Devotion Paladin
“Is it a communist?” -Oathbreaker Paladin
“Is it a magical communist?” -Fighter
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and they say black cats don’t photograph well!
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WEBSITES FOR WRITERS {masterpost}
E.A. Deverell - FREE worksheets (characters, world building, narrator, etc.) and paid courses;
Hiveword - Helps to research any topic to write about (has other resources, too);
BetaBooks - Share your draft with your beta reader (can be more than one), and see where they stopped reading, their comments, etc.;
Charlotte Dillon - Research links;
Writing realistic injuries - The title is pretty self-explanatory: while writing about an injury, take a look at this useful website;
One Stop for Writers - You guys... this website has literally everything we need: a) Description thesaurus collection, b) Character builder, c) Story maps, d) Scene maps & timelines, e) World building surveys, f) Worksheets, f) Tutorials, and much more! Although it has a paid plan ($90/year | $50/6 months | $9/month), you can still get a 2-week FREE trial;
One Stop for Writers Roadmap - It has many tips for you, divided into three different topics: a) How to plan a story, b) How to write a story, c) How to revise a story. The best thing about this? It's FREE!
Story Structure Database - The Story Structure Database is an archive of books and movies, recording all their major plot points;
National Centre for Writing - FREE worksheets and writing courses. Has also paid courses;
Penguin Random House - Has some writing contests and great opportunities;
Crime Reads - Get inspired before writing a crime scene;
The Creative Academy for Writers - "Writers helping writers along every step of the path to publication." It's FREE and has ZOOM writing rooms;
Reedsy - "A trusted place to learn how to successfully publish your book" It has many tips, and tools (generators), contests, prompts lists, etc. FREE;
QueryTracker - Find agents for your books (personally, I've never used this before, but I thought I should feature it here);
Pacemaker - Track your goals (example: Write 50K words - then, everytime you write, you track the number of the words, and it will make a graphic for you with your progress). It's FREE but has a paid plan;
Save the Cat! - The blog of the most known storytelling method. You can find posts, sheets, a software (student discount - 70%), and other things;
I hope this is helpful for you!
(Also, check my blog if you want to!)
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It's so nice when someone strong is brought down by a miserable cold...
But on the other hand: if the character is somewhat sickly to start with, imagine how mercilessly a bad cold will fuck them up.
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depiction is not the same as glorification and I need people to get that
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Quick update as to why I haven’t followed any of you back:
This is a side blog! My main is a private blog. One of these days I’ll migrate this into a main, but for now, I’ll be leaving it as is.
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MAYDAY: Valeria’s Choice
Location: Sunset Ocean, unknown Date: August 1st, 2021 The spirit of animality was clearly not finished in this one, as the captive in rude language and dialect refused once more to speak or give up any information, even at the cost of immense torture to her body. Her adopted countrymen? What did she mean by that? But the Admiral was passive, hands resting in her lap, back rigid, her shoulders squared and her jaw high. One leg crossed over the other at the knee. Very restful and relaxed, not at all threatened by these barbaric ravings. Even the rest of the bridge staff, those few who remained, seemed unphased. Not even at the price of torment upon her body…but what about her mind? ”Mm.” Valeria simply mused at first to Anemone’s rant. Very interesting indeed. Slowly, one leg unfolded off the other and the Admiral rose to her feet, towering above the captive seated on the floor, hand chained to the railing of the central console. Her hands folded behind her back. No need for defense, Valeria knew she was in full control here. She returned Anemone’s stare with her own deep, brown orbs. The seconds ticked by. She wasn’t going to get into a playground shouting match with this one. ”When I was eight, I accompanied my father to the royal capital of Hellens. There, during the first stages of the schism, I saw a fanatic declare the righteousness of his cause, before exploding a hidden grenade that killed himself, a police captain, and several other people.” Valeria just said instead. ”A most bloody scene. I have always pondered to myself what compels a fanatic like yourself into risking your life so cheaply. It was terrifying then, and whenever my father or mother would depart on business, I would fear a similar disaster might befall them. One always fear the things they do not understand, Lieutenant.” She came nearer to the prone woman, standing close enough that Anemone could kick at the Admiral’s ankles if she wanted to, while the taller woman peered down at her. ”So, why do they do it? Is it for their homeland? For glory? Or perhaps anger and revenge, to do to those whom they deemed have wronged them in some way. Or perhaps,” The Admiral flashed Anemone a smile, ”they do it because there is someone or something they think they are protecting. You just confirmed my suspicion, Lieutenant. You want to protect your brothers, your…adopted countrymen. Do you think you are doing so? Truly?” She let the question hang in the air. It was rhetorical, so she didn’t care whether Anemone answered or not. Her suspicion was confirmed but the hypothesis was still up in the air. She had another, more physical way of testing it. ”Come, stand here. I want you to see this.” She beckoned the woman as Valeria moved beside the central console, activating it, to present a holographic map of the southern shores of the Republic of Luna. Or as Solis saw it, Rebel-occupied territory. There were various population centers marked out, many on the coast, many within the circular striking range of the Oceanus fleet. But most pleasing to Anemone perhaps was that there was only blankness on the map where the secret Artemis base facility was located. The Admiral and Solis didn’t know. Yet. ”Your brothers are soldiers, warriors, and they know the stakes, just as me and my own know.” Valeria explained to Anemone. ”But these people, your…adopted countrymen, are they not deserving of the same protection?” The Admiral said, before drifting closer to Anemone’s side. The threat should be implied. Give the Admiral a military target, or she’ll have to select a civilian target instead. And it would be all Anemone’s fault. ”Tell me the location of your Republic’s secret air force base.” The Admiral asked in a quieter whisper. It’s okay to betray your kind. Let the soldiers fight. Let the people live in peace…
✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯
Anemone, if anything, was the sort of woman who could take a beating, spit blood, and stand up immediately asking if that was the best her foe had. Even now, broken, bloodied, contused and wholly defeated, Anemone Sideris spat in the face of this woman, this fiend who stared her down with cold, dark eyes. Her jaw was set, her bearing the very model of military discipline. It was impeccable compared to Anemone's slouched posture on the ground, the continuous heave of her shoulders as she fought for a breath. A breath that defied her and shattered across her chest like a thousand shards of glass. The adrenaline coursed through her, burned through veins, muscles, arteries, viscera, rousing her, cold sweat beading on her brow and under her arms, pupils dilated so that they overtook her pale blue eyes, leaving them black. But there was no relief in it; her leg still throbbed, her ribs still ached, her lungs still burned from smoke and water alike. Anemone, from the looks of her in general, was hardly the military sort. Her platinum blonde hair spilled in a sweat-dampened wave down across her forehead, across her pinched shoulders. Nothing on her person was in regulation anymore; certainly not her messy hair, not her ruined makeup, nor was her bearing, remarkably casual, the antithesis of Valeria's perfect posture. It was frankly hard to believe that this Mount Ares kid was an ace, one of the infamous Enchanters. She took the physical pain of her injuries like a champ... but how would her mind fare? How would the albatross with the broken wings, the ballerina with the shattered kneecap, tolerate methods of a different sort entirely? It was then that Anemone realized her blunder. Her mouth briefly hung agape, but she quickly snapped it shut, her jaw going hard, the tendons standing in sharp relief in her neck as she fought down the surge of panic that briefly overwhelmed the pain. Her heart leapt within its cage of bone, hammered and beat upon the bars that held it captive, much in the same way the cuffs bound her to the center console. Like Sisyphus, she was bound to this place. A single bead of sweat, cold as ice on her heated flesh, ran down her cheek. She knew she had spoken more than she had meant to via the vehicle of her pain, something she had thought was harmless enough. But was information that should have been freely available in the first place so damning, truly damning so as to give away some secret or another? The parable, however, caused Anemone to laugh, if not mirthlessly. "See, that's the difference between you and me, between Luna and Solis," she wheezed, her breath a gurgle in her chest. "Solis is perfectly happy to sit on its gilded throne, while the rest of us lowly republicans toil away in a land not meant for us, or for anyone. We are harder than you lot will ever be, and that is evident in our tactics, is it not? Happy to throw our lives away for the cause, as we ought to. For freedom, by whatever means necessary. We all have our reasons, but this one is mine." She was struggling to breathe now, her words choked between phrases, between insults that were more eloquent than the mere profanity she had spewed before, the pure bile upon her tones. Still, she found herself up on her feet, bent at the waist for a breath, her meager weight perched on the metallic heel of the cast on her leg. Curiosity had won out, the need to move around to soothe her cramped muscles won out. She squinted at the map, lips parted, the light bathing her face, setting the beads of sweat there alight as though she were encrusted in crystals. Her eyes remained upon the map, transfixed. That was Artemis, that was... Oh, fuck. Anemone visibly flinched now, her entire face seeming to crumple. She understood that there was more there than the mere threat. No, this was a promise. She began to tremble in place, the metallic chain of her cuffs rattling. A lesser woman would have pleaded, tried to cut a deal... but Anemone knew Valeria's type. She knew that either way, people would die, but... For the cause. For freedom. Luna Gloriam. "I can't'-" she spoke frankly, tone tremulous. "I can't do that. Not to my brothers. Not even..." She swallowed heavily, thickly. By the gods, she couldn't bear to watch...
#MAYDAY#Anemone Sideris#Valeria Argyos#Canta writes#roleplaying#whump#whump writing#psychological torture#broken bones#smoke inhalation#near drowning#bruising#collaboration
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It’s so rare seeing memes that praise men and boys so here are two nice ones.
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☆~ Please reblog/like this if you'd like an occasional visit from the Random Oc Questions Fairy! ~☆
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