Feb 3, 2023
Oc: Alice “Ali” Steward main outfit
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Oc: Alice “Ali” Steward main outfit
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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At the end of each day I was incapable of feeling the pain. So I rolled all my pain into a blunt and smoked it away.
Me with the idea of a new fic vs me realizing I have to write it
Tell me on anon, or not, whose OC is your favorite from anyone’s WIP
I’ll @ them
me, 9 years ago: Oh, the hero with a thousand faces? What a neat concept! :D
me, 5 years ago: Haha okay... this sure turns up a lot...Â
me now, pressing my shivering hands on the oujia board: please, mr campbell, if you can hear me, release us from your curse.
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
Hey all, I'm writing some fantasy fiction, set in world where people with ASD have magical abilities. Historical wise, the world is equivalent to late 17th century early 18th century. I'm posting the first bit of the rough draft here.
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The afflicted’s gift.
When they took Dolores Long or Dolly to the gallows, she walked at a shuffle, her blonde hair a limp rat’s rest under her cap, her eyes dull, her mouth slightly open. The bailiffs thought it was lucky, after all she was feral witch, her magic plus her savage attacks on all and sundry usually made her very hard to manage. She had the afflicted’s gift of magic. The townspeople had gathered at the foot of the gallows to watch. Any use of magic by the untrained merited a death sentence. The real scandal however was that her sister Hypatia , her only living family member hadn’t come. They shook their heads and whispered. It was right to hang poor Dolores, her magical gifts combined with dumb, feral brain could only result in more suffering, it was better this way, kinder. but so sad it had come to this, Hypatia and Dolores were the last of that great magical family the Longs.
A few miles away Hypatia was sitting in bed, the ritual candles burning on her night stand and dresser, the ritual tea had been drunk. Hypatia’s eyes were closed but tears still ran down her cheeks. Hypatia was sitting in bed and she wasn’t there. She was flying outside her body, high above in the sky with her sister Dolly.
Dolly’s spirit, the real Dolly was wheeling and circling laughing with unrestrained joy. Hypatia just watched floating, and weeping.
Dolly stopped flew up to her and smiled gently. “Oh sister, you mustn’t weep for me. For the first time I am free from the chains of that body and the world.”
“I can’t stop,” Hypatia confessed. “I don’t think I’m crying for you, I’m crying for me. You taught me so much, and I love you. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see you again.”
Dolly shook her head. “I am still here, just not in that brain, that never did what I wanted, just not in body which fouled itself and never I never could command to clean properly. I will be in the sky, in the clouds, in the air and ether. I love you and we will see each other again.”
Hypatia still wept, but she embraced her sister’s spirit. Below they saw the rope placed around Dolly’s body, and soon the trap dropped, Dolly’s neck snapped and body jerked. Dolly, the real Dolly in the clouds gave a start, but remained. Hypatia couldn’t help it, she sobbed and wailed, closing her eyes. When she opened them she as sitting in her four poster bed, amongst white linens, her cheeks wet from crying.
Writing controlled fiction is called “plotting.” Buckling your seatbelt and letting the story take over, however…that is called “storytelling.” Storytelling is as natural as breathing; plotting is the literary version of artificial respiration.
Stephen King, 'Salem's Lot
Meh. The Heart wants what it wants.