#short story Tumblr posts

  • captainadwen
    04.08.2021 - 25 minutes ago

    fun fact: the ganyu tag on ao3 goes like 10000 pages before having a fic where ganyu is, in fact, the protagonist, and not just a (usually fairly minor) side character to a main tartali adventure

    ao3 is vastly superior to ffnet, but ffnet did have something going for it with its limited character tag...

    #as for why i was in the ganyu tag #honestly i saw some really good ganyu x keqing fanarts lmao #long story short new ship eyy
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  • phoebeamorryce
    04.08.2021 - 32 minutes ago

    Starfall

    Wrote a short story for a friend’s prompt recently and really liked it, so decided to share.

    They say when a whale died, back on Earth, the ocean came to partake. It’s a strange sort of holiness, the reclamation of so great a body. The site of the funeral feast was called a whale fall. For a brief moment in time, it was both grave and cathedral to the secret things on the ocean floor.

    So too was there feasting when the stars fell over Themarsta IV, and the hungry and the broken gathered to bear witness. What else could be done to honor a place that had been home to their families for generations? When the sand underfoot and the ocean lapping at their toes was the result of their great-grandparents’ terraforming efforts, laid down in anticipation of many lifetimes’ enjoyment and use.

    The pods waited to deliver those stragglers to the black, a funeral procession to lay to rest a dear old friend; but for one gold-painted evening they danced on the shore and played a dirge to the lady Themarsta.

    Clay Penry took his new wife Esther’s hand and twirled her through the shining surf, each the other’s only possession apart from a few small bundles resting among the sharp grasses up the beach. They had meant to build a life here, in the home built from a cannibalized ship that had carried Clay’s ancestors to the freshly-tamed world. Now that home lay broken and abandoned under a pile of ash on the far side of Themarsta, razed in the first attack on the planet.

    The warning shot had driven most people off the surface, but the Penrys had stayed to say goodbye. They danced and the stars danced with them, streaking across the sky to blossom on the horizon.

    Elmira Aslanbekova gripped her umbrella like a rosary, eyes shining in the unholy light spreading like dawn on the sea. A caustic breeze tugged at her skirts and at her tumble-down gray hair. Her husband lay behind her, away to the south, six feet under the blue-stained soil. Their children had left long ago; perhaps seeing the signs, perhaps merely chafing under the dullness of Themarsta’s isolation.

    Aito Amago drew his bow across the strings of his violin and prayed their enemies saw him from their cold orbit. Prayed at least one of them understood, even if it did no good, that this was a home they were laying waste to, and not merely some strategic outpost on the path to a political victory. It hardly mattered that they had given warning and ample time for evacuations; such niceties were negated by the fact that their bombs fell at all.

    Beneath the quavering strains of Nassar’s Concerto #4, a wail began to echo from further inland. A family paused over their makeshift picnic, drawn up around a table hauled from an abandoned beach house, to bend their ears to the noise. It stirred their blood like a wolf’s howl, urging them to run, to go, to fly. There would be no more warnings. To the mind of their enemy, this planet was doomed, but there was no need to go down with it.

    Esther Penry’s hand was slick in her husband’s, her breath locked in her aching chest. Elmira’s umbrella did little to shield her now from the falling ash. Aito’s violin could no longer compete with the scream of the sirens. Fear drew them together in the red-limned surf, hand in shaking hand. A wind kicked up ahead of a rescue pod, arriving right on time with two more close behind. Crewmen in stained jumpsuits gestured urgently to the last of the starfall guests. There was nothing left of the feast but bones, and soon the great ocean of space would consume even those.

    Original image prompt below

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  • jabyoumeetricha
    04.08.2021 - 32 minutes ago

    I pushed him away but he came back✨

    I never met him

    #inevermethim

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  • lilies-and-rosies
    04.08.2021 - 39 minutes ago
    #she even gave my mom an ambulance number 😃 #anyway long story short I’m mentally ill and I’ll mostly have to stay at a mental hospital at some point 😋🤞🏽 #mail 4 jennie.%! #4lifersss.%!♡
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  • inkstainedsanity
    04.08.2021 - 40 minutes ago

    Working Title Ch. 1

         Summer solstice meant copious amounts of heat for a long period of time, and copious amounts of heat in the Achille Desert meant death for the unprepared. Bastien Wyndrose was fortunately prepared, even if only somewhat.  He posed little threat walking across the cracked, scorched earth, a lonely figure in a barren wasteland. Wisps of dust swirled from his heels as he trekked the desert, canvas duster flapping in the occasional breeze. Even the wind here provided no relief because it was purely bellows of hot air.  A bright yellow scarf clung loosely around his neck and face, protecting him from the glaring sun, and linen wraps enveloped his hands, providing protection from the heat.  

         “It’s just you and me, kid,” Bastien muttered to a solitary cactus as he passed by. He knew that crossing the Achille would be a trial, especially on foot. He knew that the summer solstice would be a bad day to cross because it meant long, sweltering hours of travel. He did it anyway because his task could not wait.

         Just as Bastien lifted his hand to shield his eyes and look out across the expanse, a loud caw sounded from above. A glance upward told him it was a grim, a large black seeker of carrion. He continued to trod onward, ignoring the creature.  

         “Caw, caw!” A second grim seemed to materialize from thin air; it joined the first one in its endeavor to wait for Bastien to keel over. Bastien neglected them, adjusting his scarf. He was starting to feel parched, and he knew he had barely any water left in his hide flask. Something he chided himself for.  

         A substantial black shadow passed over him, and he stopped mid-stride. Tilting his head up, he did not like what he saw. 

         Feathery wings spread wide, gliding on an arid breeze, a massive grim chief hovered above Bastien. Even from that distance Bastien could see the beast’s sharp skeletal beak pointed at him, eyeing him hungrily. Bastien’s right hand eased into the flap of his duster and rested on the mother of pearl grip of his pistol, holstered in tooled leather. He continued walking.

         Vigorous flapping and a gust of air told him the grim was swooping, so he bolted to the left and spun around, whipping his pistol from the holster. Focusing, he tapped into his internal well of  mana and fired several electric blue bursts at the beast. It emitted a frenzied screech at him and banked to the side. Catching a current of air, it rose out of range. Bastien gritted his teeth and looked around him, desperate to find some sort of cover to no avail.

         A high-pitched keening grabbed his attention, and he reacted swiftly as the smaller grim shot out of the sky toward him, two black bullets. Aiming with precision, he dropped the beasts with two well-placed mana bursts. He knew that running was out of the question, so he faced the grim chief, staring it down.

         The grim chief dove, and Bastien fired several rounds while backpedaling. Mana did not seem to affect the grim chief….Its leathery, feather-encompassed body appeared to absorb the shots. Bastien leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the grim’s snapping beak, and half-rolled to catch himself from planting onto the searing, compact earth. Sweat and dust blurred his eyes, obscuring his vision along with the brilliant sun. Blinking his vision clear, his eyes sought the sky for the grim, poised and ready with his pistol. 

         High above him again, the grim was circling. The beast let out a tremendous caw and plummeted toward Bastien. Bastien quickly took aim, firing shots at the grim’s head. He aimed for its eyes, hoping that blinding the creature would either deter it or slow it down enough to take advantage of other weaknesses. A calculated blast hit the grim in one beady eye, but the beast stayed its course and slammed into Bastien, the strike knocking him to the ground. His pistol flew from his hand and his breath was taken from his body as the grim pinned him to the desert floor. The stench of rot sullied the air. Sharp claws dug into his shoulders as the beast hovered over him, and he could not budge from the sheer weight of the grim. The grim snapped at his head and face, shredding the scarf and cutting into the flesh of his exposed face. Bastien could see the gaping bloody hole that his mana bullet had made; he had a mad inclination to laugh at the prospect that the grim was about to return the favor. Bastien felt helpless, struggling to move to save himself from the grim’s onslaught, but he could do nothing.  

          Suddenly the pounding of hooves approached and Bastien heard a woman yelling. He tilted his head as far as he could and saw a palomino steed come to an abrupt halt, a black-haired woman sliding from its back. She quickly untethered a sickle and chain from her saddle and ran up to Bastien and the grim, swinging the chain above her head. The grim hunkered down and screeched, protective of its prey, and Bastien groaned as its claws dug deeper into his shoulders, puncturing him through his duster. 

         “Hang on!” the woman yelled, and with one deft lunge she let the chain fly. It wrapped tightly around the grim’s neck, and the grim began thrashing its sooty wings, enraged. The woman was jerked forward, but she held fast to her weapon and then swiftly decapitated the grim with the sharp blade of her sickle. 

         Bastien felt the grim’s claws loosen as its head plopped to the ground. Founts of hot blood splattered him in the face as he rolled the grim’s limp body off of him. The woman offered him a hand and he took it, standing shakily. He sucked in air through his clenched teeth, his wounds burning and throbbing.

         “Here, let me look at you,” the woman demanded. Her fingers peeled back his shredded duster and scarf, dancing lightly over his chest and face as she examined him. She was short enough that he could look down at the top of her ebony hair. She tilted her face up to look at him, concern in her hazel eyes. “You need healing. I don’t want to do it here in case more grim show up, but I know a place nearby if you can bear the pain a bit longer.”

         “I can manage,” Bastien uttered, spying his pistol lying in the dust forlornly. He picked it up and holstered it. He followed the woman to her horse and awkwardly clambered up behind her. There was nothing else to hold onto, so he gently gripped the woman’s waist. 

         “Ajax, go,” she directed the golden steed, and he took off at a gallop. 

         The sun beat down on the pair as they rode, crossing endless desert. After about ten minutes of jostling and bumping, a cluster of trees came into view, a small oasis in the blistering expanse. Ajax slowed to a trot as they neared the grove of palms, and a crystal clear pond was revealed. Foliage ripe with berries edged the water, and the trees provided dappled shade. The horse entered the grove and came to a stop, and the pair dismounted. Bastien stumbled as his feet hit the ground; he felt weak, unsteady. 

         “Here,” the woman said, gesturing to a large smooth stone at the water’s edge. She helped Bastien ease into a sitting position and began removing his shirt and scarf. 

         “Whoa, there, get to know me first,” Bastien chuckled, then groaned in pain as bloody scraps of his duster were pulled from his open punctures.  

         The woman’s eyes flashed at him, hazel facets gleaming pensively, but her lips tilted upward into a smile. “Alright, I’m Lilah. What do I call you, other than spared dinner?” 

         “The name’s Bastien. Thank you, by the way….for saving me back there.”

         “Thank me properly once I’ve healed you,” Lilah replied. “I’m only an apprentice sage yet, but I can take away the brunt of your pain.” She tossed his shirt and scarf to the side, revealing Bastien’s torso. He was slightly muscular and tanned, but the grim had left him a bloody mess. “Sit back and relax,” said Lilah. She placed her hands firmly on Bastien’s wounds, ignoring his flinch, and focused her healing mana. She felt it well up inside of her and willed it to knit Bastien’s flesh back together. The arcane warmth spread up her arms, into her hands, into Bastien’s body, restoring him slowly. Lilah moved her hands to every wound, resting them finally on Bastien’s face. The cuts faded away, leaving a faint trace of scarring. 

         “That should do it,” said Lilah, one hand still poised on Bastien’s face. She brushed his dusty cheek softly with her thumb, and his blue eyes met hers. She quickly withdrew her hand and looked out across the water. “You, uh, you should drink some water now. I’m sure you’re parched after all of that...A natural spring feeds into this pond, so the water is always fresh. Clean yourself up a bit, too.” She sat on the stone and sat, legs folded criss-crossed. 

         Bastien stood, glancing at her, and moved to cleanse himself at the water’s edge. He ripped a piece from his scarf and dipped it into the water, using it to bathe himself free of blood. A few feet away he dipped his flask into the cool water, refilling, and sat down next to Lilah. 

         He offered her the flask first, and she accepted, drinking deeply. After drinking his own fill, Bastien turned his gaze to her. “Thank you again, for everything, “ he said. “I probably would have died in this desert today, had it not been for you.” 

         “You’re lucky I was in the right place at the right time,” she laughed in return. “If you’re headed for the city of Tiroon, it’s not far from here. Perhaps a half hour’s walk in that direction.” She pointed. “Ajax and I would carry you the rest of the way, but I am going the opposite direction.”

         “Here is perfect,” Bastien replied. “I’d like to think I could manage the rest of the way. Again, I am thankful that you came across me.”

         Lilah stood up, stretched, and said, “Well, I’d better be moseying along. Bastien, despite the circumstances, it was a pleasure to meet you. Perhaps if I conclude my business early I might see you at the festival in Tiroon this evening.”

         “Festival?” Bastien asked, eyes lighting up.

         “Yes, for the summer solstice,” Lilah said. “The city is rife with solstice activity right now. Guard your coin purse closely,” she said ominously, then laughed. She walked over to Ajax and mounted him. “Farewell, Bastien,” she waved. “Until we meet again. Heeyah, Ajax!” Ajax galloped away in a flurry of dust and small rocks.

         Bastien watched them until they faded in the distance and he sighed. He decided to meditate and rest before finishing his journey today. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply until--

         You have been successfully logged out. The computer monitor displayed the main menu of Warriors of Bastille, showing artfully clad characters wielding an array of weapons. Dawn leaned back in her computer chair, and pushed her glasses up to rub her eyes. She wanted to play more of her newest addiction, but it was almost time for her shift at the cafe. She stood up and stretched, tucking a brown strand of hair behind her ear. Luckily her shift today would be short, and then she could continue adventuring with her character Bastien. She was wondering what the festival in Tiroon would be like as she clicked her mouse and put her desktop to sleep. The anticipation fueled her as she readied herself and left her apartment.   

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  • mondgestalt
    04.08.2021 - 42 minutes ago

    Ich hab dich gefunden oder du mich?

    Ich hab dich, doch glücklich sein fühlt sich anders an oder?

    Oder fühlt es sich an als wäre man egal? Als wäre man nur wichtig wenn etwas benötigt wird?

    Warte.

    Ich wollte es nie fragen oder überhaupt darüber nachdenken.

    Liebst du mich noch? Bin ich dir noch wichtig?

    Oder ist da jemand neues?

    Egal.

    Ich liebe dich.

    Brich mein Herz, Verlass mich. Aber Erwarte nicht das ich dir verzeihe wenn du gehst.

    Das kann mein Herz nicht nochmal.

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  • writername
    04.08.2021 - 48 minutes ago

    Final Fantasy 7 AU and Reader (Choose your own Adventure/Story/Roleplay!)

    Word Count: 1316

    Click here for Part 1!

    Click here for an explanation of the series!

    Part 2.

    You chose C) Corner someone while everyone is separated for the evening and pressure info out of them.

    Honestly, you don’t want to cause trouble for your guests, but considering you stuck your neck out for them and you’ll no doubt have to come up with a long list of pouty lipped excuses when some Shinra Corp. exec shows up… You feel as if you’re entitled to know what’s going on. While everyone finds their rooms for the night, you pick your target and trail after them at a distance. 

        Much like a phantom, your steps are silent as you make your way up to the solid wooden door you spotted the man disappear into. “Mr. Ex-Soldier?” Your voice is low, almost a whisper as your knuckles gently tap against the door. You can hear a sigh beyond the other side of the door before it opens just a bit, those pretty mako colored eyes staring at you. He doesn’t say anything, so you lean forward to continue the conversation. “May I come in?”

        Cloud doesn’t deny you entrance, he steps aside and leans against the nearby wall. He likely expected you to be like any other person, you know, respecting personal space and all. Unfortunately for him, tonight manners are secondary to satisfying your curiosity. You follow his lead, getting right up in his bubble as you begin your little interrogation. “Our conversation was interrupted earlier.” Cloud blinks at your words, “Conversation…?” You nod in response to his statement, barely a foot away from him and closing in fast. “I wanted to know why your group came breaking down my door, and since you’re just a hired hand, surely you’re the most unbiased of the bunch.” You conclude while looking up to him.

        At this point Cloud’s eye’s have widened. You can tell being sociable isn’t his strong suit, and you decide to taunt him a little because of it. “Come on, I helped your little group out a bunch, it’s the least you can do.” You press a hand against his chest, pushing him so that his back is straight up against the wall. “Or… Was I wrong to put my trust in you bunch?” Your eyes gleam in the dim lighting of the room, and while your shining eyes are considered seductive to most, by the way Cloud gulps he’s clearly a tad intimidated. A civilian is much different to any soldier, and you’re especially nice on the eyes.

        “It’s not my place-” Cloud tries to start with slow, carefully thought out words. You don’t budge however, you decided the moment the others tried keeping information from you that you’d be pressuring this cute merc out of everything he knows. “It is your place, because I asked you.” You stand on your tippy toes, your face just so close to Cloud’s that you can see the sweat starting to bead on his face. “Tell me what happened, don’t make me regret helping you…” You gently touch his lips with your nail.

    Cloud’s mouth opens and closes several times before he puts his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Alright.” He follows up his statement with a firm nod. “I was hired by them to do the heavy work.” You raise your brow at his statement and ask, “You mean fighting?” You aren’t surprised, he does carry around that huge chunk of metal. However, she does find it odd that the group needed someone combat savvy unless they were really getting into things. “Go on.” You cross your arms.

    You swear for a moment as he looks away it’s like there’s a pout on his face. “Avalanche is the group. Heard of it?” Of course you have, they’ve been all over the news. They’re not exactly stealthy in the least though. Particularly Barret. “Mhm. What was Avalanche up to this time?” You continue to poke and prod with your obvious questions. Cloud sighs as he mutters. “The mako reactors.” By this point two have already blown, you suppose it’d be obvious they’d try to target more. “My, sounds like a lot of trouble you all would be in if I didn’t help you out.” You conclude out loud as you eye up the male.

    He crinkles his brow a bit at your statement. Whenever someone in his life had such a gleam in their eye he knew he was going to be walked all over. Why is he so socially inept? He places his hands on his hips. “What do you want?” You immediately light up at his words.

    "Ah! That is a good question!” You grab his hand, and lean close. “See, If you’re Avalanche, that means I’ll have to do a lot of damage control. That’s time and money merc!” You nearly bubble over in excitement. With your curiosity mostly sated of what shenanigans they were up to, you can use this knowledge to your advantage. “Plus, your group's antics have cost me a lot of business. Not a lot of people want to come to the Opera when there’s a group terrorizing midgar.” You wink as you gently poke the males nose. “I have the perfect idea.”

        You saunter away from the male to the middle of the room. You turn to face him once more and hold your arms up in the air, one of your bare legs poking out beneath the robe. “A performance! You cost me business, and you had me help you. I want you to perform for me. Only then will I call it even!” You point to Cloud, a grin on your face. “In fact, I think you all owe me.”

        Cloud’s eyes are completely wide in surprise. Honestly he was expecting some devious demands. You laugh a bit at his expression. “Surprised? I am too. I was so intent on satisfying my curiosity I wasn’t entirely sure what I should ask in return. But this is perfect! I have so many dusty scripts that are begging to see the light of day again!” You grab a nearby feathered scarf and toss it around Cloud’s neck, tugging him up against you. “What say you, merc?”

        Cloud staggers forward, barely catching his footing. “I-” He turns red.

    You twirl the scarf in your hands, which the shortening of the scarf brings the male’s face close to yours once more. Your playful demeanor fades away for just a moment as you whisper, staring into those eyes that captivate you. “You. Owe. Me.”

    Cloud clenches his teeth, pushing down the embarrassment in his gut. “You’ll have to speak to the others in the morning if you want them to perform.”

    You light up once more. “Why of course!” you cup his cheeks in your hands and he crinkles his nose as the fine feathers tickle him. “But I’m sure they won’t disagree. They’d probably hate to know their hired hand sold them out.” You finally release the ex-soldier, and he goes staggering back. You can barely withhold your amusement as you saunter over to the door. “Besides, as long as you all reside in the Opera House, Shinra can’t do much to you. If I kicked you out however…” 

    Cloud sighs, “Yeah, Yeah. I get it.”

    You playfully wink just before slinking out the door. “Oh I’m so glad you understand!” 

    Now that you have Cloud Strife and his friends wrapped around your little finger, it’s time to take advantage! What will you be performing?

    A) retelling of Phantom Of the Opera!

    B) If you doubt Cloud’s singing ability, why not see if he can dance?

    C) If Cloud’s singing and dancing are questionable to you, how about some good old dramatic romance? Gives you a chance to get up and close. Romeo and Juliet or Twelfth Night are good fun!

    D) You don't really intend on torturing Avalanche in a performance, right? This option is if you instead want to see the lovely Opera House destroyed in a fight. Avalanche continues to rack up their debt to you!

    #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #ff7 cloud strife #ff7 cloud #ff7 x reader #choose your own path #choose your own adventure #cyoa#fanfic#fanfiction#roleplay#short story
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  • raulf-o
    04.08.2021 - 52 minutes ago

    You can never escape your shadow.https://www.raulfo.com/nobodytheblog/2021/7/30/the-horrorscope-episode-31-encounter-ahead

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  • dragon-pups
    04.08.2021 - 55 minutes ago

    Never Again

    The battle was long and hard, but they made it, the ship's in sight. He felt the electric pulse of a bolt being released from a blaster at the same time he was harshly shoved to the side. They collapse to the ground, Crosshair with a smoking hole in his chest, gasping for breath. 

     "Come on, we can make." 

    "..go-go on, ge-get out-t of he-here." 

    "No. I'm not leaving you behind. Not again! Never again!" 

    Hunter heaves Crosshairs limp body over his shoulder and rushes for the ship as fast as his dead leg can carry them. They others are doing their best to lay down cover fire, but its a near thing. They crash into the ship and the take off is quick. Their is a rush of movement and Crosshair is taken from him. He lashes out grabbing for his hurt brother. He won't leave him again.

    If Hunter doesn’t save Crosshair I’m gonna be furious. 

    #bad batch #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #hunter#crosshair #clone force 99 #fanfic#fanfic shorts#writing shorts#short story
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  • thedge-of-forever
    04.08.2021 - 1 hour ago

    the halfway point

    Beth finally stopped looking over her shoulder. She had been sleeping on Susan’s pull-out couch for some time now. She never actually pulled the coach out, something in her felt as though she didn't deserve to be that comfortable, considering the circumstances.

    Beth met Susan at a half-way house in south Florida. The place was called ‘The Milestone House,’ but they always referred to it as  ‘Hell’s Waiting Room.’ This was Beth’s third stay at the house. The employee’s smirked and snickered as they welcomed her back. This time she came with a black eye which went nicely with her ripped clothes, missing & rotted teeth, dirt under her fingernails, & missing eyelashes. A crystal meth addiction plagued her body & her soul, she left pieces of herself as far as the eye could see, in every dark corner of the city.  

    One of two things tend to happen when you enter a house of this nature. You either find yourself and find a path to sobriety, or you leave the house with new contacts to find the substance you are jonesing for. Beth usually chose the latter. 

    Susan and Beth were roommates in the house and talked about life on the other side. Susan would vent about her monster of a father and her needle using ex-girlfriend who introduced her to her first hit of heroin back in the day. Beth would, more often than not, zone out and day dream of a better tomorrow, the sun on her face, & a few bucks in her pocket. Beth would then nod in agreement or mutter words of acknowledgement to Susan’s rant, ‘yeah’ or ‘sure’ or ‘I feel you’ as she watched the clouds move past their barred up, dusty, third story window.

    After her three month stint at the house, Beth was released back into the world. Susan left Beth her address on a ripped out piece of notebook paper when she was released two weeks prior. Normally a hitchhiker, Beth spent the next half of a day walking, and for once it didn’t rain on a sunny summer day in south Florida. 

    Susan lived in a worn down community with many older worn out faces sitting on their porch smoking cigarette after cigarette. I finally approached the small ranch style home with chipped yellow paint, green shutters with missing slats, an old Spanish tiled roof in clear need of replacement, & a lawn in desperate need of a mow, she arrived. 

    Susan welcomed me in. ‘Don’t mind all this shit’ as she rolled her eyes towards the seemingly endless pile of boxes, garbage, & empty camel menthol packs, ‘I haven't gotten around to it yet since she moved out, I’ve been in a funk, but you know that’ referring to her needle using ex. ‘Make yourself at home as long as need be, darling’ Susan pointed to the pull-out coach. 

    Beth was determined to finally make a change in her life, as this felt like her personal rock bottom. 

    ‘I’m looking to make some money I think, keep busy, maybe even save up and maybe even leave this place one day’ Beth said quietly as she checked to see if her eyelashes started to grow back. Susan mentioned she knew someone who worked at ‘The Metro’ and that they were looking for help. 

     ‘The Metro’ was the nearby diner which had a 1920’s theme with servers who wore carhop outfits, some even with rollerblades for the outside seating. This wasn’t Beth’s style, but to be fair, her style was exactly what she was trying to leave behind, Beth took a walk over. 

    ‘Well, I’ll be honest with you, I don’t like the look of you, you look beaten & bruised, and we are looking for people who really fit the bill around here. But, I think it’s your lucky day because we had a gal quit mid-shift this morning during the rush, it really fucked us, it was bananas in here, pure mayhem. You got the job, don’t screw it up, go wash your face, & go see Carol, she’ll get you a uniform. If you have any trouble, figure it out, the customer is always right. You start tomorrow morning, 5am sharp, don’t fuck me.’ The manager said sternly as he patted me on the back and looked me in the eye to make sure I took all that in. 

    Beth walked back to Susan’s with what was left of a smile on her face. ‘I’m really going to do it this time, I can feel it’ Beth thought to herself optimistically. 

    Beth swung the door open to tell Susan the good news, with the intention of encouraging her to do the same. Before Beth could get the good word out of her mouth, she noticed Susan leaned up against the tower of trash with a needle by her side. Beth ran over and checked her pulse, nothing. This wasn’t Beth’s first rodeo, and she had seen this kind of thing time and time again, and she wasn’t going to let this ruin her good mood. Beth rummaged through the junk draw in the kitchen until she found what she was looking for, nail polish. It was alligator green, not her first choice, but it would suffice. 

    Beth kicked her feet up on the ash stained coffee table as we fell back onto the pull-out coach. This was the first time she painted her toes since her mother passed.

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  • squemonn
    04.08.2021 - 1 hour ago

    Babe wake up a new Squemonn project just dropped….

    Reference sheet for Dawn and Idris apart of my 2021 CSSSA short film? Uh, I think so!

    But seriously, I’m so happy I finished this animated short film for CSSSA. It was an amazing opportunity to test my skills and I’m shocked at how much I’ve grown in such a short timespan. Please consider checking my film out!

    #animation #finding you! #animated #film and animation #film#animated short#finding you #finding you webtoon #finding you wt #Webtoon#webcomic#original character#original story#original art#short film#amv #I stayed up until like 4 every night during this class #it was kind of hell #please check it out #please #I’m begging you #on my hands and knees rn #okay thanks bye
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  • duskyrapunzel
    04.08.2021 - 1 hour ago

    My Darkness World

    I can’t hear your heartbeat,

    But I can smell your soul being frightened.

    I can’t see how your corpse is breathing,

    Because I drank the last drop of your suffering.

    I’m waiting the arrives of your soul,

    In my own darkness world.

    -Dark Rapunzel.

    More of my poems here!

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  • fizzlereadsbooksiguess
    04.08.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Looking back at my comics reading list this year and what score I gave them (Do I have good taste? probs not lmao) #3

    Ok so, a bit of a heads up, when I first started reading comics I didn’t really read much of a variety. I mostly strictly stuck to batman stuff. I would just mass request them from pages upon web pages on the library website. So, sorry about that in advance lol.

    Next comic I read on my list was Batman Black and White: volume 1

    Not gonna lie, I really vibed with this one. I usually skip stuff that doesn’t have color in it, but despite that, many pages of the art captivated me. I also loved how since it was in a collection of unrelated batman short stories that had no power over canon, that the writers were free to do what they wanted. They could go crazy with whatever concept or interpretation they could come up with. It was also another neat touch to have short introductions for each short story, talking about the artists and writers who worked on them. They did end up being quite preachy after awhile, but it still had some cool details regarding the artists’ and writers’ previous works.

    Basically, this was the batman book that made me go “hey, you know what? Batman is actually pretty cool.” and I was not expecting that. I ended up enjoying this book much more than I thought, to be honest.

    My initial rating was 9/10 and I think I’ll stick to that. It’s a cool book with some cool art, cool short stories, cool concepts, and is pretty easy to read no matter how big of a batman fan you are.

    #batman #batman black and write #newbie reads comics #I remember there was this two face short story in it that I really enjoyed #it was short and sweet #there was also this other story about batman scolding this terrible verbally abusive father #i think that one was my favorite #it showed how much batman really cared for gotham and its kids #and how important family is to him #i wish there were more moments like that in batman stories #and again #bruce was still that dramatic bitchTM #but in *different art styles*
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  • k-buyers
    04.08.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Good afternoon writers!

    Quote of the day…

    #quoteoftheday #edgar allan poe #writers and readers #poetry #writers and poets #writers and authors #author community#writers community #books and literature #poems#short stories#quotes
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  • alert-arlert
    04.08.2021 - 2 hours ago
    #long story short: i just wish to be held #also i have a terrible back/shoulders/knees so like. i can’t do anything too crazy #asks#rynteractions
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  • kota-bee
    04.08.2021 - 2 hours ago

    circles

    my mind is a maze, an infinite maze

    I can’t find the exit or the entrance

    it seems to go in circles

    Forever

    I find others who are lost here

    they look so familiar yet so strange

    they wear covers over their eyes, blind

    they wear ear plugs, deaf

    they wear gags, mute

    unable to find a way out, unable to shout for help

    yet here I am screaming, listening, looking

    Still I am lost.

    still I go in circles

    forever

    #poetry #writers and poets #short story #writers on tumblr
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  • laterheartbreaker
    04.08.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Room full of plastic stars

    Childish trinkets, small pieces of plastic glowing in the dark. The owner of the apartment would never decorate it with such silly toys, but the person who performed this act of "vandalism" was way more important than a style of the room. There also were paintings, right on the walls. Drawn many years ago, colours were slowly fading from the fur of fantastical creatures.

    The day become and stars started to falling down. The owner carefully gathered them, each day, in a small wooden box. Planets, moons, stars - the whole galaxy collected inside of a piece of a woodcraft. Glowing in the dark, where nobody could see their greenish light.

    Creatures ran away from the walls when the smell of fresh white paint filled the room. Their habitat was destroyed by the unstoppable force of renovation and wallpaper. It's all ended with the smallest glowing star still hiding in a corner of the room, painted white and unnoticed.

    August 04 2021

    #my writing #writers on tumblr #spilled thoughts#plastic stars#drabble#short story #my life is a disaster
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  • kay-as
    04.08.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Hey you! Yeah you! Check out my new video. I would love to see your comments. Like & share too. ☺️

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  • dreamer-reader-empath-wanderer
    04.08.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Daisies Unite

    I hear gun shots and the room turns to chaos. I start leading Maisie down the hall to the dressing room while the others follow at our heels. We barre the door and run to the booth in the middle of the room. The soldiers don't stop but the door slows them down enough for us to lock ourselves in.

    When they make it into the breakroom they pause before shooting at the booth. Glass rains down around us and the unsupported walls of the booth split open like a cardboard box. We duck next to a filing cabinet and hold one another until the shooting slows. When there is a break in the fire we run to the next room. From there we reach the hall and start weaving through the connecting rooms. We get to the boiler room and take a moment to rest.

    "There aren't going to stop this time."  I say to the group between heavy breaths. "We'll be safe here for a while longer." Maisie doesn't look convinced.

    The president, who ordered the open fire on our small rebellion enters from the other side. She looks rough and chaotic but manages to speak calmly.

    "Hello girls." Her tone dripping with loathing. "Tired are we?"

    "Never." Maisie and I reply in unison.

    We hear the soldiers come into the next room. Times up. We run towards the president and push her out of our way. Once we're back into a main hall we split up. I run towards the soldiers and they take Maisie somewhere where she will be safe.

    I run through the vice presidents lab and office, catching the eye of as many soldiers as I can. When I  make it to the end of the hall, to the meeting room, I see him enter with his special projects squadron.

    "Dad!" He turns to me and smiles.

    "'Hello love! What are you doing here?" He makes his way towards me with no worry in his expression.

    "What are you doing here?" I ask, still in shock. "We were protesting peacefully, the president has been lying to the workers about the purpose and profits of their work, and now she's trying to have us killed."

    His eyebrows crease with concern and he pauses a moment before responding, "That can't be right, we'll get this sorted, darling." He puts a hand on my shoulder and leads me to a chair and for a moment I'm a child again. I forget I was just racing through the bunker, dodging bullets and I let my father take care of it.

    "Can you help me?" A voice says from the window. We turn to see a little boy holding what looks like a car battery. My dad looks from him to me and back again.

    "Of course, lad."

    The boy's eyes are red and puffy, he's been crying. He is still sniffling when my dad starts ordering his team to get the bomb specialist.

    They approach him, calm in the chaos of soldiers and gunfire. They reach him but it's too late.

    There's a flash. I think there was a noise. Then nothing.

    - Dreamer

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  • jocrude
    04.08.2021 - 3 hours ago

    Burn Ward

    CW Hospitals, Morbidity involving children Author’s Note: This is nonfiction.

    Out of curiosity I looked up pictures of a burn ward. I've seen a lot of gore and that on the internet late at night in the depths of a morbid streak; nothing much gets to me. Burn victims, burn victims and maybe some types of animal cruelty, burn victims are the only thing that I still feel in my stomach.

    I'm reminded of my childhood, going in and out of the Los Angeles Children's Hospital with Mum. I was suffering but it was immune and endocrine issues, I had to watch all the little kids going through what adults shouldn't have to deal with at an age where they taught you to understand your emotions with smily faces on a chart on the wall.

    The worst were the elevators, cramped inside this shuddering steel device, without exception you were in there with some basically vegetablised tube person strapped down to a wheelchair, the parents normal people, fat latina mum with a Winnie The Pooh sweatshirt etc., with that monumental veneer of repressed quiet despair on their faces that came from having to go about a normal life with a child who you loved like parents do but secretly wished were dead. They'd always have a Sonic The Hedgehog plushie or something hanging off the wheelchair. It was wrong to stare but you were cramped 10 foot by 8 with the tube person, what could you do?

    On my way to the GI or Endocrine ward a lot of the worst wards were a ways down a different hall, you never saw them but there were always signs pointing the way there. I remember the Oncology ward (cancer victims) was on the fourth floor which was called the "tiger floor" and had a mural of tigers and other cartoon jungle scenes made by the cancer kids. I think one time I saw the orderlies wheeling out a gurney with a sheet over it. I can't remember if that was real or a dream. The Children's hospital had a burn ward too. Fuck, man...

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