*sigh* I hate to admit this but looking back at the (poorly disguised, and fictionalized) vent art I made back in late 2023-2024, it was clear as day that DeviantArt's toxicity was doing a number on my mind and I should've immediately left back then permanently to be on Tumblr rather than stay and let my mental health get worse.
Chililizard, Puszta, Strudel, and the Doomtonium concept idea (c) @chililizardsplayhouse
Let's talk about hijab, gender identity, and sexual and romantic orientations.
This is an open post about the discussion of these three things together, their relationship with each other, in the old times and nowadays, and criticism of course. Go ahead ya'll.
I've noticed a lot of new followers over the last week or two, so just wanted to say welcome and hello!
My ask box is open, and I always welcome being tagged in things, although I don't always have the spoons to respond, I do read the things I'm tagged in <3
I have side blogs for each of my current projects linked in my Intro Post, so if you're interested in a specific project, you can follow the side blog to make sure you never miss any content I post about it.
I also occasionally share some of my writing exercises, so as a bit of a welcome have one I worked on earlier today...
Writing Exercise - Heat
How Do Your Writing Exercises Work?
Essentially, I go to a “Single Word Prompt Generator” and have it throw a random word at me. Then I go to Unsplash.com and use that word to search their database of images, and scroll through for something that catches my attention.
This may be something where I simply want to describe what’s in the image, or maybe it sparks a small story nugget in my brain. Regardless, I then take the picture and post it here, with credit, and proceed to write for 15 minutes.
Whatever I produce, I share with you lovely people. Unedited. Typos are to be expected.
Word Prompt: Heat
Photo by Ben McLeod on Unsplash
She could hear them hissing. The burnt orange glow hidden beneath a deceptively cool shade of grey ash. The heat coming off the coal was near-painful, and Emma could feel a moist trickle of warm sweat trails it's way down her neck and slip beneath her blouse.
Once neat and crisp, it was now limp with the heat and soaked in sweat. Her black skirt was dusted with ash, and Emma stared at the path before her. If she didn't know better she'd think it were cobblestones, but the heat shimmers in the air told her that the coals were near-molten.
Her breath was fast, nervous. Her feet, covered only with thin stockings, shifted against the cool stone anxiously and she considered turning to run. She'd considered fleeing, more than once, since she'd been guided down into this hellish landscape full of towering black columns of volcanic black rock, and lakes of yellow glowing lava.
"Go on," the demon at her side prompted, his elbow nudging hers in what she assumed was supposed to be some kind of encouragement, but it made her lean back instead, away from the fiery path before her that led up to nothing less than a bloody castle.
"What's the matter, don't you have any faith?" the demon teased.
Emma wished it was a taunt. A taunt she could rise to, argue with, but the demon at her side was smiling gently, his tone nearly playful and Emma swallowed back her snarl. He was only trying to help, she knew that, but her eyes settled on the coals before her again and she hesitated. Again.
It wasn't that she lacked faith. She believed in so many things. But believing that you were born to become the queen of hell was something else entirely.
Emma distinctly remembered burning her hand on the oven as a teenager, and while chocolate lava cakes were delicious, she suspected that real lava wasn't nearly so pleasant.
It wasn't that Emma didn't have faith, she just didn't have faith in this.
With that, her resolve broke and she stepped back. Pressing her feet against the cool stone that didn't seem to be retaining any of the heat from the air, or the rivers of molten rock on either side, and she began to back away from the road ahead paved with white hot coals.
The demon's hand wrapped around her wrist, but his grip was lose.
"Please, don't," he whispered, and Emma met his golden gaze in surprise. "If you leave, he'll rule us forever. We need you."
"Aren't demons supposed to lie?" Emma gasped, the sweltering air making it difficult to breath, "How am I supposed to trust you?"
"Lie? Of course we do," the demon admitted, but his eyes were wide, open and honest, "but not to you. Never to you."
She held his gaze, and gods help her Emma believed. Her breathing slowed, and the heat faded, and, against her better judgement, she stepped forward...
Y'all, I take a break from snape stuff and you know what happens? I get into another fandom where I see people argue a male character must absolutely be in love with their childhood friend, and directly making the argument that obviously no one would care so much about a person otherwise.
Sometimes, as an aro in fandom, I wonder if I died and it turned out hell was real.
no- you don’t understand- YCGMA LIMBO!!! THE CONCEPT OF THE AFTERLIFE BEING DIFFERENT FOR EACH PERSON!!!!! AND TAILORED TO BE THEIR OWN PERSONAL HELL!!!!!!!
