Less of a train of thought, more of a roomba

The defeat of the wizard who made people choose how they’d be to be executed

The woman who raised the changeling alongside her biological child

Cinderella finding Araura (and falling in love)

The God of Arepo (graphic novel 1 / 2 / 3) (ebook)

The Monster of Sentan

The Witch’s Cat

Raise Both Children

Stabby the Roomba (honorable mention)

Cinderella Marries the Prince (comic)

My Arch Nemesis Cynthia

Pirates and Mermaid

Eindred and the Witch

The Demon King

The Cornerwitch

Grandmother Beetroot

Apocalypse Daycare Worker

Grandmother Accidentally Summons a Demon

New Year Saga

A Story About Changelings

Ranger in the King’s Forest

The Difference Between a Hare and a Rabbit

HSTHETE, THYME, monster under the bed, a meaningful death.

Antler guy (Can’t find the tumblr post):

Monster under the fridge:

Humans are unstoppable, until they aren’t:

The first witch in the world:

A faerie taking a name:

The Villain-Wrangler:

Unfortunately I can't find The Last Contact 😕.

But brushing your teeth for 30 seconds is better than not brushing them at all when that 2 minutes seems exhausting.  Doing ten minutes of yoga is better than 10 minutes of sitting when 30 minutes of cardio sounds impossible.  Changing my clothes is good when a whole shower is impossible.  Standing on the porch for a few minutes is worth it after being in the house for three straight days because I don’t have the energy to go anywhere.

Spoons can be used pretty much anywhere.

Carnival tickets are only good for the carnival, and it’s only in town for a limited amount of time.

"how dare you say we piss on the poor" in response to someone misinterpreting your post

"_ isnt gonna fuck you" for suck up behavior

"woah. should we tell everyone? should we throw a party?" for who the fuck cares

"and what if the world was made of pudding" for when would this ever matter.

"and sharks are smooth both ways" for a group of people heatedly arguing with 1 guy who is fucking with them all

“30-50 wild hogs” for someone making ABSURD excuses for violence.

“what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament” for how do you know that without being a part of it.

“anyone in this thread smoke weed” for the shit you people are saying is so off topic this might as well be a general discussion forum

“dogs are boys and cats are girls” for ooh ur mindset did not grow past 4th grade, huh

“color theory in a childrens hospital” for bending over backwards to not agree that YEA, that thing Came Off Weird

“you are a tar pit” for someone finding any reason to respond with outrage.

“is the __ in the room with us right now?” for I Don’t Think That’s Real.

“bean soup? im allergic to beans!” for ik this doesn’t work for you, but that’s not a flaw. not everything can be for you.

I will also have a sorceror in my employ. When a hero or a renegade or a political rival is in a situation where I can safely kill them, they will instead be turned into a bird and added to my aviary. I would not brag about this; it would be a complete secret, known only to me and my sorceror. In situations where I capture multiple people working together, only one would go in the aviary;the others can be imprisoned or killed or whatever. If they escape and I reacquire them later, another one can go in the aviary. The point here is that nobody going in the aviary can safely assume that another bird in there is their teammate.

Because I would be trickling real birds in there, too. And I would train some of them to do 'intelligent' things like tap out prime numbers or scratch shapes into the dirt with their beaks. I would train some of them to pick at the locks and bars as if they were trying to escape. I would not train them all the same way, or train many of them at all.

Sometimes, a new bird goes into the aviary -- fellow revolutionary? Or just a bird? Is it trying to communicate to you that it's human, or just being friendly and imitating you because that's what smart friendly birds do? People would develop opinions and theories over time. They'd amass in a group of the smartest ones, pretty sure that they're closest four or five friends are humans, are using their invented little language of wing-flaps and trills with a human mind behind it... but can they ever really be sure?

Most people, when going into the aviary, would assume that all of the birds are captured enemies. So why are some of them hard to have ongoing communication with, to learn about, to plan with? Are these the natural communication barriers of someone in a bird body, or does being a bird make them stupider over time? Will that happen to them also?

Sometimes, if I capture a pair, I'll imprison them separately, then turn one into a bird and put them in the aviary at the same time as a real bird that's trained to have a couple of their partner's mannerisms.

When I interact with the birds, even in private, I won't secretly mock them or make clever veiled references to their past or act at all like I remember that they were once human. They are my birds, that I imported at great expense. And I've brought a treat for them; some fresh fruit, and another friend to share it with! A new bird!

This didn't make sense to me then, and it doesn't make sense to me now. I was possessed by a compulsion for honesty that other adults reacted to as if it was unusual, but at home, you'd expect I was the antichrist.

And what got to me the most- the absolute worst part of it all- wasn't the assumption, the disrespect, or the thoughtlessness of it, but the steadfast resistance to the possibility that maybe, maybe they were wrong.

They always acted like they wanted the truth, too. "Just tell me the truth, and I won't be mad. I know you did it, I'm not angry you did it, I'm angry you're lying. I caught you, so why not be honest? I can tell you're lying. Nobody else could have done it. Nobody else could have taken it. So-and-so said they were there. I have evidence. Just tell the truth. This can all be over if you just tell the truth."

So I'd tell them the truth. Not what they wanted to hear, but what actually happened. And they'd just give me that same disappointed look and tell me they would give me one more chance, one more opportunity to make this easier on myself by confessing whatever terrible thing I didn't do.

And I despised that. That 'second chance to do the right thing'. They'd always offer it out like they were just being so generous and patient with me, like it was more than I deserved.

So perhaps I learned this lesson earlier than most, but it's served me pretty well, and from the first time I said it I knew it was vitally important:

"I told you the truth. It's the truth whether you believe it or not. Do whatever you're going to do, but it's not going to change."

Now obviously, this sucked, and it shouldn't have happened.

But it did, and it was formative, and now as I've grown and lived I find it has become a rather important part of myself and who I am as a person:

That at the end of the day, someone is always going to be wrong about me and what I choose and who I am, and that's not necessarily something I need to expend energy on.