Misplaced Lens Cap
we're not kids anymore.
Monterey Bay Aquarium
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
titsay
i don't do bad sauce passes
@theartofmadeline
shark vs the universe
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
hello vonnie
Cosmic Funnies
wallacepolsom
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Keni
noise dept.
JBB: An Artblog!
trying on a metaphor
Kaledo Art
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@meteor-writes
There are three things you should know before joining shadow society:
There is language in silence and meaning in reflected words
A shadow remains tethered until it is lost
Loss can occur in both light and dark
Do you still wish to join?
Sign me up!
I don’t know...
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To stay or To-go
1,093 words
Romance
The cafe buzzed. Conversation, coffee machines and the light twinkling of teaspoons hitting ceramic. It surrounded Jane like a fog. She sat in the window seat - a bay window hugging the round table set up with seating for two - but it felt no more private than centrestage. She pushed her fork at the cake in front of her - a delicate sponge with cream icing and a ravishing red strawberry on top - but made no attempt to eat it. She merely scraped at the sponge, forming no dents, only encouraging tiny crumbs to roll down the ski slope onto her plate.
Why did it have to be so busy?
It would have been less embarrassing if it was just her and the staff. She could have laughed it off with them, offered the cold drink opposite her back to them and said, "at least I got an extra slice of cake." As if she was going to eat her own. She sighed, refreshing her messages one last time.
Nothing.
She'd never been stood up before. Mostly because she'd never agreed to go on a date with a near stranger before. At least friends called ahead. Or came in threes, so if one didn't show, you had another walking in two minutes later mirroring your look of exasperation. You weren't alone.
But was that even true anymore?
The reason Jane had even made the dating app account was because she'd proffered five different social gatherings in the last few months and not one person had said yes. The last message didn't even carry any replies. Was it because they were busy? Was it because Jane couldn't take a hint? Were they bad friends or simply drifting into a new stage of life that she was starting to doubt she'd ever get to. Jane didn't care for the answer. Not really. She studied for it at midnight many a night but in reality, there was no happy one.
You're the keeper of your own happiness right?
So she'd made this date. With Matt, age 32, from London. 6 ft tall - although that could mean anything from 5ft 10 according to Liv who married her high-school sweetheart and never set foot on an app. Matt had been okay. He didn't seem like a serial killer. And he liked 'the office' which gave them something to talk about. His job wasn't listed but apparently it was something boring in finance so he didn't advertise it. He complimented Jane's smile which was nice. Better than tits which the boys at the pub liked to do. He'd even claimed to have a sweet tooth prompting Jane to propose meeting at the Jasmine Cafe and ordering a slice of Victoria Sponge on his behalf. Now she was out of pocket too.
A chair scraped to her left and it was like the blaring horn of a train on departure.
Jane put her fork down. It had been half an hour. Nobody was late by half an hour. Not when the date was supposedly two streets down from your flat. Finally abandoning the sad little cakes, Jane noted her table number and headed to the counter. The barista managing the till glanced at her, still serving the couple in front. They were gushing about their afternoon plans. A walk in the park, arm in arm. Hopefully they'll see some ducks! Bitterness seeped under her pores. Jane could go to the park. She could see some ducks. But what was the point when she had no one to hear her announce "hey look, ducks!". And a few pictures on her story would just be sad. ‘Alone again, Jane?’ ‘These pictures would be sweet if there was a child taking them.’ ‘Don't you have any real hobbies?’
"Table number." The guy behind the counter called and Jane abruptly stepped up.
"Thirteen please.”
His eyes flickered over to her table, the uneaten cake, half empty cup. She didn't even like coffee. Just ordered it to seem sophisticated.
"You want them to go?”
Jane shook her head. "No, it's fine.”
I just want to go, she thought to herself, shifting weight from foot to foot.
"Not good enough?" He asked and Jane balked. His head was cocked, challenge in his ice-blue eyes. His hair was overgrown in a way that suggested post-grad emo and his attitude reflected that same sentiment.
"Just not for me." Jane ground out through a plastered grin. What did this guy care about a defrosted cake baked at a factory halfway across the country?
Apparently a lot as the man shook his head, muttering to himself as he aggressively typed on his till.
"What was that?" Jane asked, blinking her eyes in mock innocence. The man scoffed. He stopped his attack on the till to lean his broad arms on the counter and glare right into her eyes.
"It's a waste of food. I don't take orders for the bin.”
A rush of heat lanced Jane, unreasonable and sparking. How dare this man accuse her. And how accurately. The cafe noise seemed to lessen, as if this one conversation was the hottest topic around. Jane squeezed her purse, cutting her eyes into daggers.
"Then eat them yourself.”
It was the stupidest argument she'd ever had. Embarrassment warred with the spurs of rage. She'd never met this barista before. Never been in this cafe. And yet she wanted it all to burn.
The man rolled his eyes and Jane nearly took back the stage, but then he stepped back. The till keys clacked once again and Jane diffused. It was over. Finally, the whole disastrous afternoon was over.
"That'll be £16.97.”
Jane fumbled with her card but just as the machine pinged with acceptant, a voice called out behind her.
"Jane!”
She spun around. It was Matt. Face pink and shiny, he forced his way between the tables, knocking into backs and heads and tripping on legs.
"I'm so sorry I'm late!" He cried, landing at her feet. "My nieces were around and my sister got delayed.”
He grabbed her hand with both of his.
"Please forgive me.”
He wore the kind of brown eyes puppy dogs did.
Jane's gaze flickered to the cakes still sitting on the table. Had it all been an accident? Could this still be salvaged. The genuine pain on Matt’s face solidified her decision. Jane smiled, unwrapping Matt's hands from her own.
“It’s okay.” She said then turned back to the barista.
"Actually," she started, letting her smile slip into smug. "I will take those cakes to-go.”
1924 Mikiphone portable pocket gramophone from Switzerland. Hungarian designer Miklós Vadász created this battery-free wonder in the 1920s so folks could spin records anywhere. Fold it up, tuck it in your pocket, and jam on the go with just a hand crank. Vintage portable tunes at their finest.
✨ Did you hear, did you hear?
FFF is here and it's time to write!
✨ New to FFF? Let us fill you in!
Flash Fiction Friday is a fun writer event that’s meant to inspire, share and connect writings of all genres and writers of all ages. It’s designed to make people want to write, especially if they’re feeling blocked. Everyone and everything is welcome!
We always do our very best to keep the prompt’s genre open, entertaining, positive and encouraging.
Write between 100-1000 words. It can be any genre, in any text format and 18+ is fine by us, just please tag accordingly.
Use this Friday’s theme in your text. Any way you see fit.
Post on your tumblr blog and remember to tag us at @flashfictionfridayofficial!! So we’ll see it, read it and reblog it!!
Deadline is 24 hours after the prompt has been issued (12 pm CET).
And then, next Friday, we’ll mention your work in a showcase post on our main blog before our next prompt drops.
Please post your entries as regular posts, not screenshots — or provide the text as a regular post as well. Let’s keep everything as accessible as possible!
We ask you to tag your works with any appropriate content warnings and let the reader know what they’ll find before they get the chance to read your work!
If you have a question, check out our FAQ page! If your question isn’t on there, don’t hesitate to ask!
You don’t need to ask for permission or need to get added to a list to join in. Just write, have fun and don’t forget to tag us!
And remember we now have an Ao3 collection (‘FlashFictionFriday’) ✨
We do not condone fiction, asks or comments that glorify: direct hostility, unconstructive critique, LGBTQIA+ hate, slurs, racism and/or general no-no behaviors.
If you want to be closer to the epicenter, you can come chat on our open discord: https://discord.gg/rUWCE8a
✨ We also introduced our very own Wishing Well, a place for you to whisper your prompt suggestions into. And we’ll listen! Check everything about it out HERE.
✨All your amazing works from last week can be found HERE.
Go check them out and consider supporting your fellow FFF writers with some likes and reblogs!
✨ And now, the new prompt!
[#FFF347 Rumour Mill]
A handful of words at the edge of your hearing. A sentence or two carried by echoes down the corridor. An easily flowing conversation in a sunny cafe. What are they talking about? Are you more surprised by what they say or the fact that they know about it? Who is spinning the rumour mill then? It's time for us to find out!
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The Collective <3
Venture Not on Hallowed Ground
for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt!
I also wish to thank @starwright as this was inspired by an ask sent to me admittedly a few months ago! (like last May lmao) [the ask related to an OC wandering an abandoned ruin alone]
word count: 950
—
In the depths of woods void of society, Claudia and Petrius came upon a withered tower of stone.
Its lowest walls remained most intact, bearing thin arches for ‘windows’ and thinner steps befitting for crows. Ivy crawled along its exterior, flowing over engravings on the inside.
Fog rolled overhead. It sifted through the tops of the conifers and draped a faint mist over the air, as if nature holding its breath.
Neither of the pair’s footsteps made a sound upon the ground, their talons light yet their footsteps intentional.
“Needless to say how our forebearers fared.” He said, perched at the top of the stairs.
Claudia took one glance at him and wondered if she should break the solemn aura of this place. For a period a slight before their childhoods, their country took the brunt of Seldaika’s onslaught from across the sea. Graveyards marred many fields across South Feudrain in particular, this former watchtower’s degradation no exception.
She wondered where this tower’s graveyard was. Not a single stone monument to be found, not even a single name carved into the walls nor floor.
Claudia stood upon the centre of its floor, and heard a click.
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@flashfictionfridayofficial
[#FFF346 Monologues and Monoliths]
honestly, it's like talking to a wall sometimes
this is one of the downsides of being an animist, chat - people will see you communing with a fuckoff huge limestone slab in a yorkshire valley and they'll think you're lacking in sanity - but there is much to tell to and much to be told by these crags
we blame watching Children of the Stones for first waking us up to this as a teenager (obviously we'd been talking with trees for a good decade already by then), ya boi touching the standing stones and getting visions, we could relate
but they didn't get that it's a conversation, and the stones want to hear from us too
once, back when we could walk, we walked up Padley Gorge from Grindleford (amazing chips and hot chocolate) and we leaned up against a mossy rock face and Paid Attention, and this is what they had to say to us (very gently):
we have been below and we have been above
we have been firm and we have been fluid
change is always
be patient
it's only rock'n'roll but we like it
and we told them what the trees had told us, you know, that thing about keep growing but grow slowly, and they laughed a gravelly laugh and said: talk to the sand
but we were not in the mood for gritty realism
you can also talk to actual walls, but they are often childish and lack imagination, so expect to be regularly brickrolled - strangely, you get more good sense out of the mortar
why are we telling you this? we guess we're trying to say: there's no such thing as inanimate, everything can be chatty, and walls have ears
oh and make pretty grafitti please
✨ Keep on speaking and telling your stories!
FFF is here and it's time to write!
✨ New to FFF? Let us fill you in!
Flash Fiction Friday is a fun writer event that’s meant to inspire, share and connect writings of all genres and writers of all ages. It’s designed to make people want to write, especially if they’re feeling blocked. Everyone and everything is welcome!
We always do our very best to keep the prompt’s genre open, entertaining, positive and encouraging.
Write between 100-1000 words. It can be any genre, in any text format and 18+ is fine by us, just please tag accordingly.
Use this Friday’s theme in your text. Any way you see fit.
Post on your tumblr blog and remember to tag us at @flashfictionfridayofficial!! So we’ll see it, read it and reblog it!!
Deadline is 24 hours after the prompt has been issued (12 pm CET).
And then, next Friday, we’ll mention your work in a showcase post on our main blog before our next prompt drops.
Please post your entries as regular posts, not screenshots — or provide the text as a regular post as well. Let’s keep everything as accessible as possible!
We ask you to tag your works with any appropriate content warnings and let the reader know what they’ll find before they get the chance to read your work!
If you have a question, check out our FAQ page! If your question isn’t on there, don’t hesitate to ask!
You don’t need to ask for permission or need to get added to a list to join in. Just write, have fun and don’t forget to tag us!
And remember we now have an Ao3 collection (‘FlashFictionFriday’) ✨
We do not condone fiction, asks or comments that glorify: direct hostility, unconstructive critique, LGBTQIA+ hate, slurs, racism and/or general no-no behaviors.
If you want to be closer to the epicenter, you can come chat on our open discord: https://discord.gg/rUWCE8a
✨ We also introduced our very own Wishing Well, a place for you to whisper your prompt suggestions into. And we’ll listen! Check everything about it out HERE.
✨All your amazing works from last week can be found HERE.
Go check them out and consider supporting your fellow FFF writers with some likes and reblogs!
✨ And now, the new prompt!
[#FFF346 Monologues and Monoliths]
Who is monoguing? Why are there monoliths? A magician working out a spell or a scientist going mad? Are they ranting and raving or trying to justify themselves? Are the monoliths a cause for wonder or confusion, or perhaps excitement or anger? You write the stories, you guide the tale. We can't wait to read what you create, so go on! Get writing!
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The Collective <3
5 Tiny Writing Tips That Aren’t Talked About Enough (but work for me)
These are some lowkey underrated tips I’ve seen floating around writing communities — the kind that don’t get flashy attention but seriously changed how I write.
1. Put “he/she/they” at the start of the sentence less often.
Try switching up your sentence rhythm. Instead of
“She walked to the window,”
try
“The window creaked open under her touch.”
Keeps it fresh and stops the paragraph from sounding like a checklist.
2. Don’t describe everything — describe what matters.
Instead of listing every detail in a room, pick 2–3 objects that say something.
“A half-drunk mug of tea and a knife on the table”
sets a way stronger tone than
“There was a wooden table, two chairs, and a shelf.”
3. Use beats instead of dialogue tags sometimes.
Instead of:
"I'm fine," she said.
Try:
"I'm fine." She wiped her hands on her skirt.
It helps shows emotion, and movement.
4. Write your first draft like no one will ever read it.
No pressure. No perfection. Just vibes. The point of draft one is to exist. Let it be messy and weird — future you will thank you for at least something to edit.
5. When stuck, ask: “What’s the most fun thing that could happen next?”
Not logical. Not realistic. FUN. It doesn’t have to stay — but chasing excitement can blast through writer’s block and give you ideas you actually want to write.
What’s a tip that unexpectedly helped with your writing? Let me know!! 🍒
“You want to be an author? That’s awesome! I could never do that, I’m so bad with words”
Me searching for words similar to “slowly” for the fifth time and then going to google the definition of each word just to make sure it means slowly:
“Someday, you and me—we’ll do great things. We’ll live life for ourselves. And we will help others. We are cubs now, maybe. But we will grow to be lionesses. Strong women who make things happen.”
—Marjan Kamali, The Lion Women of Tehran
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
imagine being a totally random dude and all you want to do is catch some fish and then you get stranded in this weird, gigantic foreign kingdom and they make you the utmost authority on your language and literally all you wanted was to catch fish
it used to be so easy to find a job
Water experiencing itself🐟
Vase (Satsuma ware) Yabu Meizan (1853–1934) The Khalili Collections
Trees, Stars And Birds. 1919. Cover art.
Internet Archive
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
If you're into puzzles: I illustrated a great big one for the Magic Puzzle Company, and it's now available through their website!
✨Prepare to be amazed!
The new prompt made an appearance
We apologise for the delay. You will still have 24h to write, so just this week the deadline is 1pm CET.
✨ New to FFF? Let us fill you in!
Flash Fiction Friday is a fun writer event that’s meant to inspire, share and connect writings of all genres and writers of all ages. It’s designed to make people want to write, especially if they’re feeling blocked. Everyone and everything is welcome!
We always do our very best to keep the prompt’s genre open, entertaining, positive and encouraging.
Write between 100-1000 words. It can be any genre, in any text format and 18+ is fine by us, just please tag accordingly.
Use this Friday’s theme in your text. Any way you see fit.
Post on your tumblr blog and remember to tag us at @flashfictionfridayofficial!! So we’ll see it, read it and reblog it!!
Deadline is 24 hours after the prompt has been issued (due to the delay in posting the prompt, the deadline is extended to 1 pm CET).
And then, next Friday, we’ll mention your work in a showcase post on our main blog before our next prompt drops.
Please post your entries as regular posts, not screenshots — or provide the text as a regular post as well. Let’s keep everything as accessible as possible!
We ask you to tag your works with any appropriate content warnings and let the reader know what they’ll find before they get the chance to read your work!
If you have a question, check out our FAQ page! If your question isn’t on there, don’t hesitate to ask!
You don’t need to ask for permission or need to get added to a list to join in. Just write, have fun and don’t forget to tag us!
And remember we now have an Ao3 collection (‘FlashFictionFriday’) ✨
We do not condone fiction, asks or comments that glorify: direct hostility, unconstructive critique, LGBTQIA+ hate, slurs, racism and/or general no-no behaviors.
If you want to be closer to the epicenter, you can come chat on our open discord: https://discord.gg/rUWCE8a
✨ We also introduced our very own Wishing Well, a place for you to whisper your prompt suggestions into. And we’ll listen! Check everything about it out HERE.
✨All your amazing works from last week can be found HERE.
Go check them out and consider supporting your fellow FFF writers with some likes and reblogs!
✨ And now, the new prompt!
[#FFF 344 All In Black]
Look at the style. The elegance. The breathtaking effect of a headturning yet simple, timeless appearance. What's the occasion? Does there need to be one to look so dazzling? Who are they to have such presence? A literal person or perhaps an anthropomorphisation of an abstract concept? Perhaps it's just a mask to hide their true self. Perhaps it's a more honest reflection of themselves than anything else could be. Go on and tell us; don't miss any details!
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The Collective
