crackpot theory? more like crockpot theory, am i right, fellas? (insp)
in conjunction with @buddienetwork event two - remixt 2
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crackpot theory? more like crockpot theory, am i right, fellas? (insp)
in conjunction with @buddienetwork event two - remixt 2

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.
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EDDIEDIAZNETWORK - EVENT 2: headcanons
eddiediaznetwork is excited to announce our second event: headcanons.
this event will run throughout june!
to participate: 🌟 reblog this post 🌟create something that fits this month’s prompt 🌟caption your post with: @eddiediaznetwork event: headcanons 🌟 don't forget to tag us so we can reblog you
feel free to message us if you have any questions about the event. we’re excited to see what you create! and if you would like, join the network.
location: a shrine of the children of mothman for: anyone
she doesn't handle things well. she's organized, but disoriented, careful, but too much care can falter her in analysis paralysis. something terrible has happened, and she can't quite place what to do or how to handle it, but going back to the ranch right now feels like retreat, when she could find some way to help. or make herself useful. she isn't skilled in ways that people might find useful. she isn't a medical professional, is bad enough at bandaging her own wounds.
her only other option is to pray, though she isn't sure what she's praying for. safety? a quick recovery for those effected? some sign that this was the grand design? it's a jumble in her mind as she sits on her knees, eyes closed. she's meditating more than praying. the quiet only interrupted by distant sounds...
... until the snap of a branch alerts her to company. her hackles are up, but she's careful not to immediately jump to defense. after all, she's trained better than that. she can move quickly enough to be out of danger, if it arises, and if she can't, then she hasn't truly earned her place beside her speaker.
"it's rather rude to interrupt someone's prayer, you know." her voice is a calm contrast to the turmoil in her, the fear bubbling somewhere in the pit of her stomach at the unknown. "unless you're here to join me?"
Happy Pride Month! This month, our creations event will revolve around LGBT+ pride across works of fiction. Make any type of visual content, such as gifs, graphics, or art, that fits the theme.
TO PARTICIPATE.
Join the network if you haven’t already Reblog this post Make an original visual creation that fits the theme Caption your creation with @userphotoshop event 2 | pride Tag us with #userphotoshop
Don’t hesitate to contact us if you have any questions, and happy creating!
who: @mackenziegthomas
where: stari's room
what: in which stari needs a hug
stari: you want to help so bad, come find me
It hadn't been consciously meant as a challenge, but Stari would be lying if she said that wasn't what it was. She hated asking for help, it was like admitting defeat. Or at least like admitting that she really was just as small and scared and alone as she felt. So she wouldn't do that. If someone wanted to help, they could help, but she wasn't going to beg for it.
Another thing she wasn't ready to admit was the kind of help she needed. She'd gotten good at asking for food or drugs or other necessities, but right now... that wasn't what she wanted.
What she wanted now was confusing, though, because after so many endless days and nights of being left alone and not touched - by her own request - all she wanted now... pathetic as it was... was a hug.
And it was just as she was thinking this that there was a knock on the door of the room she shared with Charlie when he wasn't out, pacing and fretting like all the wealthy people were now.
She opened the door, and managed a sheepish smile.
"Told you I wouldn't make it too hard..."

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War Cries
For @revolutionarywriters event 2 (August 2020)
Prompt : a set of priceless jewels, a makeshift group of thieves, a plot to start a war
tw death, tw war, tw blood
Shaking hands, trembling mouths, stuttering words were often said to happen when you were scared. He had never believed it to happen in the real life.
His moment of glory had come when he had gotten the letter. The letter he had been waiting for, since months. The letter had spelled out his future. His destiny.
@twilightnet event | favorite quotes
“more fiercely than i would have dreamed i was capable of, i wished for the green, protective forests of forks…of home.”
"my my~ that's certainly not what I expected form you of all people Wesley." He playfully tugged on the costumes skirt. "Kind of of ironic is it not?" He teased.
@fcrgttnxx