In (formerly Soviet but now independent) Russia, cute pony boops you!
Vera by EnergyFrost
Hey folks,
Distractions are what makes up life. Down to its core. Joy, pleasure, sadness, grief. Whatever it is, it is something to do. And the times where we have nothing to do, is the time where we get closest to that fateful, dreadful moment. That which followed us from the beginning. What we are distracting ourselves from.
Happy Filthy Friday~.
I'm finally putting some time into working on a story and it will be revolving around twilight and rainbow Dash together :-)
Other main cast will not be said just yet but the story will have a mix of things. I want to try and make the story feel like it works and is not a random slice of life sort of thing. I will hopefully be putting up a prologue tomorrow but if not expect prologue and the first chapter soon!
Alright, so the original story I talked about in the past blogs, about the daughters of Flurry Heart, is officially on hold. I lost the chapters I was writing all the way down to chapter 3, so I only have 3 chapters and that sucks so right now I'm not in the mood to try and rewrite everything. However, I have a new story in the works that is something completely different than anything I've written before.
Hey there, Happy Filthy Friday to you all,
Today we have a new story, one with Twilight and booty escapades.
A calm, laid back snuggle, at least for one of the parties involved.
Some things are so big, that they become insignificant. Others are so far away, they do not exist. Some things, take so long, that they never happen. And others seem to happen at a constant basis.
Yeah, the first chapter of my new story “the love postulate” is out now. It’s the first thing I’ve ever written in my life so please be brutally honest. Work on chapter two has started. Hope you enjoy it.
Can we see our footprints when they are swallowed by our shadows? Does it matter, when the road ahead lay clad in mystery? To stop is to sink, contemplate not the step you are on, but the one you will take. Darkness or light, all pass. They affect our stride, as much as our last step did.
Happy Filthy Friday~.
[Adult story embed hidden]
A long standing tradition (for about a month) in the Vinyl-Octavia house (apartment) is that of inviting friends over for a friendly Game Night.
Twenty-seven hours until the start of the new year...
Fine print, is a skill check. But what skill does it fall under?
Perception is possible, particularly when perusing parchment.
Knowledge is a candidate, considering ones curiosity.
Falsehood is factual, fortune favours fakers.
But in the end, it does not matter which way it is failed, only that it happens.
Happy Filthy Friday~.
Zoey groaned. How many more times was she going to wake up like this? Even with her eyes closed, she could sense the bright light around them.
…Wait. Light.
“Lisa?” she turned her head, opening an eye. Her voice was still hoarse from the screaming.
No Lisa.
Zoey shot up with a heave, propping herself up with an arm against the grass beneath her.
Grass?
Today marks the first story we publish to Fimfiction of 2020, the start of a new chronicle, with a familiar franchise peeking in behind the veil~.
When I was young, there was a daily need that stewed within me. A desire to fill. Often this was met with food. Though, hunger could be sated, a physical hole to be filled and plugged. But this desire was different. Impressions, ideas, media, stories, items, exploration... If all desires were slaked, all holes filled, it dug new ones, always moving to the next, shifting, running, pouring into several at a time. Yet also it kept moving. Spare little time spent to dedicate oneself to a single
Quite strange, it feels as if a year had just passed by in an instance... So many voices calling out to be muted by aethereal filaments. Of untapped potential and personality. Wherefore hath this presence made itself manifest?
Will it ever return, or will we then have changed too much to recognize it?
Happy Filthy Leapyear Friday~
What is the road? We tread upon it during our journey - the quest of walking, waking, understanding - yet the road itself does not exist, merely a concept brought about underneath us through a collective will to have it there. We see because others see it. Because we need to walk? We need a destination. We have to put one foot after the other. How deep does it go? Will someone who does not believe in the wall have it cease existing for them, or does it run deeper? Is there a collective
It is a curse to live during interesting times, despite the ravenous hunger one has for stories.
Interesting times, make for wondrous stories, though a miserable experience. As always, any good story requires conflict.
Happy Filthy Friday~. And Happy Twin Month~.
Slowly does one sink into tar,
it feels like standing still, least not going far.
It feels fine, not a change in their smirk,
Slowly they find themselves, waist deep in murk.
Happy Filthy Friday~.
I really didn’t expect much from this release, much less another featured story like I tended to get before I took a several month break. So uh, thanks 65 of you for reading my batshit insane story.
Well, time to do what I tend to do. Let’s take this thing apart.
As storm clouds loom ahead, I upon my bed, and knit a pouch or sorrows, to carry for tomorrow. I line the piping in dread, and thread the warp with fear, and once the pouch is woven, I wash it out with tears.
Come bright morrow I step outside, bag of mine in hand,
It is filled with bright thoughts and fantasies, I carry across the land.
Happy Filthy Friday~.
Thoughts of snow. Of the pleasant chill that invades your veins, chains your nerves to the whims of winter and sends your spine rattling. It rouses a heat. The throes of your body engaged to keep you warm, to keep living. A visceral experience of your essence clinging to life... made tactile. You cannot just feel it, you are beset to feel it...
Few, though, desire to dance with their own mortality.
They are a rough partner.
Present, or not.
Happy Filthy Friday~.
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