There was a new Mamma Mia but with the four hobbits from Lord of the Rings. Merry had a solo for Fernando.
cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Janaina Medeiros
noise dept.

Product Placement

★

Andulka
Peter Solarz

pixel skylines
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Xuebing Du
d e v o n
KIROKAZE
Cosimo Galluzzi
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
ojovivo
Mike Driver

#extradirty
art blog(derogatory)

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@justdragonsandme
There was a new Mamma Mia but with the four hobbits from Lord of the Rings. Merry had a solo for Fernando.
like sometimes you just have to toast yesterday’s bread put some sicilian tomatoes and a fuckton of mozzarella and oregano on it and call it a day
sorry. sorry it's pissing me the fuck off that people are assuming i didn't put olive oil on this. you think im putting unseasoned tomatoes on my bruschetta. do you genuinely think i didn't pour oil on that toasted bread the moment it came off the pan. of course i added fucking olive oil and salt and stuff like who the fuck do you think i am do you think i was raised by fucking wolves. i didn't mention it because it's obvious. automatic. implicit. did i add olive oil. did i. i'll tell you more actually not only did i add olive oil but my olive oil is extra super virgin in a way your oil will never be because it comes directly from my olives. you cunts
so fucking done with this post SO fucking done. no i didn’t toast the bread in the oil you’re insane if you think i’m cooking my extra super virgin olive oil besides that’s just not how you toast bread so literally seek professional help. second no i did not add garlic or balsamic vinegar you are once again insane. you only use those when your other ingredients are LACKING something and my ingredients are simply not LACKING anything. my tomatoes are perfectly balanced my mozzarella is rich and creamy and my olive oil as already discussed is superior. don’t you ever fucking come into my house and suggest or insinuate in any way i should use garlic and vinegar because i know exactly what im doing unlike you fucks
Two identical infants lay in the cradle. “One you bore, the other is a Changeling. Choose wisely,” the Fae’s voice echoed from the shadows. “I’m taking both my children,” the mother said defiantly.
Once upon a time there was a peasant woman who was unhappy because she had no children. She was happy in all other things – her husband was kind and loving, and they owned their farm and had food and money enough. But she longed for children.
She went to church and prayed for a child every Sunday, but no child came. She went to every midwife and wise woman for miles around, and followed all their advice, but no child came.
So at last, though she knew of the dangers, she drew her brown woolen shawl over her head and on Midsummer’s Eve she went out to the forest, to a certain clearing, and dropped a copper penny and a lock of her hair into the old well there, and she wished for a child.
“You know,” a voice said behind her, a low and cunning voice, a voice that had a coax and a wheedle and a sly laugh all mixed up in it together, “that there will be a price to pay later.”
She did not turn to look at the creature. She knew better. “I know it,” she said, still staring into the well. “And I also know that I may set conditions.”
“That is true,” the creature said, after a moment, and there was less laugh in its voice now. It wasn’t pleased that she knew that. “What condition do you set? A boy child? A lucky one?”
“That the child will come to no harm,” she said, lifting her head to stare into the woods. “Whether I succeed in paying your price, or passing your test, or not, the child will not suffer. It will not die, or be hurt, or cursed with ill luck or any other thing. No harm of any kind.”
“Ahhhhh.” The sound was long and low, between a sigh and a hum. “Yes. That is a fair condition. Whatever price there is, whatever test there is, it will be for you and you alone.” A long, slender hand extended into her sight, almost human save for the skin, as pale a green as a new leaf. The hand held a pear, ripe and sweet, though the pears were nowhere ripe yet. “Eat this,” the voice said, and she trembled with the effort of keeping her eyes straight ahead. “All of it, on your way home. Before you enter your own gate, plant the core of it beside the gate, where the ground is soft and rich. You will have what you ask for.”
Continua a leggere
the intimacy of reading together..
like...yeah...
aight its time to clock out for a bit. im tired, this has me tired. im gonna draw some dragons getting their heads stuck in things. someone give me some ideas
what about THREE donuts
i really liked that third one
featuring Fowler and his slightly disappointed father
idiot
I know it's no longer Saturday but hey, time is a construct! So happy storyteller Saturday, and I'm curious what is your favourite genre to write and why? Have a great day!!
Hmmm let's see. I like fantasy, it's fun to come up with all the little magic details, but I think my absolute favorite is ghost stories, which I suppose is a very specific brand of horror.
It's just something about the vibes, the whole spooky but kinda quiet and kinda sad all at once sort of thing.
Thank you for the ask!!
Hello! Happy Storyteller Saturday, if you'd like to play.
What's the strangest thing that has inspired your writing?
Thank you for the ask, and let's pretend it's still Saturday and I didn't forget to answer this yesterday! 🙃
The strangest thing to inspire my writing is probably the weird dreams I have lol but I did once write an entire story just because I saw a bird outside. It wasn't a particularly interesting bird either, and the story ended up not being about the bird at all...but it did start and end with the bird cause I'm a sucker for a circular ending!
Some kind of eldritch entity has taken human(ish) form and is genuinely trying to befriend you. However its ideas of “hanging out” are just terrifying, and its gifts are worse.
For the Sake of her Beauty - Part 2
I just now remembered to post part 2, oops
It's ridiculous and shorter, but I hope it's still decent. Part 3 tomorrow, maybe? Hopefully? ...if there is interest?
For the Sake of her Beauty - Part 1
So this is Part 1 of a little story inspired by living in Scotland and, as often happens, by a fun conversation I was having with my girlfriend.
I'm no historical fiction writer so it probably won't be very realistic, but it will definitely be very fluffy ;) Part 2 coming later today unless I forget
Enjoy!
Somewhere along the Antonine Wall, Scotland, 167 AD ca.
Mila had never been a disobedient girl, but she had always been stubborn. Her father used to joke her head must be harder than the anvil he beat his iron on everyday, and playfully threaten to test his theory whenever she would try to win him over with a pout. Despite his antics, he would often relent to his little girl, to the disapproval of his wife. He was a simple man, who loved his forge and his family, and generally avoided reacting to any other topic with anything more than a shrug. Mila had always loved watching him work. There was something fascinating in the dance of the flames in the furnace, in the brilliance of the dark lumps of metals as they turned to liquid and then again into solid, and there was something reassuring in the slow, rhythmic beating of his precise strokes on the anvil, turning shapeless rods into tools, finished objects ready for so many uses and purposes. She had seen him make axes, hammer-heads, short and long knives, even brooches and nails and locks sometimes. Mostly, though, he made swords. Long, straight gladii so sharp he would warn her not to get too close as a child. When he had gotten over his reluctance to teach her about his work, she had learnt to recognise the finer traits of their craftsmanship, the features that made them durable and reliable and that had made him a treasured blacksmith of the Legion for most of his life. The soldiers treated him with a respect Mila had rarely seen shown to the other traders at the fort, as they knew their life could very well depend on the strength of his steel. He had followed them from his home village in Spain to the Wall almost twenty-three years before, forging weapons and repairing armour in his silent, reliable ways. And there he had settled, like they had, in that cold and wet land, a land of sprawling green and intensely blue skies. And there he had met his wife, whose eyes were of that same breath-taking blue, and whose hair reminded him of the dear golden fields of his father’s land. And there she had given him Mila, a wonderful, strong, stubborn daughter. So stubborn she had managed to convince him to let her help out at the forge. So stubborn she had not listened, when he told her not to follow the other youths who had gone to watch the battle from the hills. So stubborn she did not think twice about stealing his key to the weapons chest and silently sneaking out of their small house that night.
Hello!
#8 for your question game!
What are your literary inspirations? What stories inspire your writing most?
Thank you so much for the ask 💕
Inspiration is always very volatile for me, but luckily I've found it in many different things! Sometimes it's dreams, sometimes it's conversations, sometimes it's cool places that I feel could be interesting settings
Often it's my wonderful partner eheheh
For stories that have inspired me, I would definitely say the fantasy books I grew up with and that I continue to love (check out Le Guin or Isabel Allende if you haven't already folks! I guarantee you'll love them)
And lately a lot of dnd too! I love watching campaigns and writing my own has been so much fun 😊
20 Questions for the writer
Because these games are so nice I wanted to try making one up!
1. How much of the world around you is reflected in your work and in what way? (Thoughts, moments, impressions, moods, landscapes, objects, people, scenes…)
2. What is one thing you absolutely can’t do without in your writing?
3. What are your favourite clichés?
4. What clichés do you hate the most?
5. You need to come up with a title for your work. How to approach the grievious task?
6. Tell us about the things you love best in worldbuilding.
7. When you choose a new book, what do you look for?
8. What are your literary inspirations?
9. What are your real-life inspirations?
10. Are you the kind of writer who overshares about every little thing or do you keep it all under wraps till it’s done?
11. What’s the easiest character for you to write?
12. One thing you are pretty proud of - your style, a work, a scene, a character?
13. Do you read out loud to yourself as you write just to gauge the feeling of it?
14. How has your writing changed throughout the years?
15. What’s the most difficult thing for you to write?
16. Share a happy memory related to your writing.
17. Is there anything you wanna share with the class? Advice? A funny anecdote?
18. How do you come up with new story ideas?
19. What’s your ideal writing space? Share all about this fantasy of yours!
20. Tell us a cool fact about one of your works or your characters.
Sci-fi short stories are so efficient; they take 15 minutes to read and then you think about them for the next 5 years
Hey guys, what if *puts the most horrifying mindblowing concept into your head with about 15 pages*
reblogging myself because i feel like i need to go through the notes and like…compile a list and maybe this will remind me
Writing should make you happy, so stop overthinking every little thing and enjoy the process. You can always edit it later. You can always rewrite it later. But don’t allow the imperfect manuscript to take away your joy of writing.
Story: In Hell I'll Be In Good Company
Another story based on a dream I had! This one is more fantasy, and the style is a little different from what I usually do, but I'm trying to decide whether to continue it so any and all opinions are welcome.
Enjoy :)
(Title is from a song by The Dead South)
In Kai’s world, the existence of gods was a fact, rather than a question. In his world, beings of immense power walked the earth, worshipped and feared. They had claimed their dominions centuries before mortals had started to inhabit them. Over time, almost every tribe had had to bend in submission to them. And now, these celestial creatures, who defied death and owned the world, were at war.
being called baby?????? holding hands????!? being KISSED?!!!?!???????
@justdragonsandme
Are your commisions open?
Yes they are! :)