So I poured myself some whiskey and what felt like two seconds later, my dad came into the room where I was drinking. I was sitting at the dinner table and put the glass between my legs. When I miraculously had the chance, I ran up to my room and finished the whiskey. Now I'm drunk. I feel pretty chill but know I'm gonna feel like shit tomorrow. I normally stick to a finger to a finger and a half of whiskey, but this time I had about 2 fingers. Wow I'm trash.

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No, really, I can. Even when I haven't had much of anything to show for it lately, I'm writing and that does mean that I haven't quit. I've never been the best at using these blogs to connect to people like other users on the site, but if you had been worried that I had forgotten something, downgraded to a lurker, or something else, then I haven't. What I have been doing is working on packing and everything else that comes with a move, and have been working on various tasks for this over the

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Thorax stepped out of his new room, his best smile on his face. However, no sooner had he stepped through the door did his hoof slip on something soft, and he found himself getting close and personal with the hard wooden flooring, face first and with a loud thud. He groaned as he lifted his head, a slight daze enveloping his mind. There were sounds of muffled childish giggles close by. Shaking his head as he stood back up on to all fours, Thorax turned to his side and was met with the

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Okay, so if anyone has a better memory than me, they'll remember that I had a contest going on... that still hasn't been judged. I'm terribly sorry about this. Yes, it's basically either my fault, or my life's fault. So, I guess I have a bit of explaining to do?

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why is that even still in my calendar

uuuuuuuuhh
feel free to leave questions ig? i'm likely gonna be super bored later [unless some stuff happens idk] so i'll prob pop on again and answer them [i'd also be down to just like, conversing or smth]

also like
what are we feeling for what to do while i'm here all day in May? i have no plans it some times it feels like it's coming fast haha

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As of today, I'm twenty-six years old, but this isn't a blog about that. That'd be boring.

So here's a free comic about Trixie, and Starlight Glimmer. Mostly Trixie. Happy birthday to me.

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"I think I'm in love," Aragón said, dreamy expression on his big dumb face. "My heart goes a-flutter every time I stop to picture the color of those lips."

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Hi everybody!

I hope you've been having nice holidays if you celebrate them, and if you don't, I hope you've been having a wonderful week. Since it's very unlikely TEK will update before the year ends, and since my end of year blogpost won't be till later, I just wanted to share with y'all a comic ArcticWaters gave me for Xmas which is AMAZING and depicts the first time Twilight sees snow after a thousand years.

Putting it under the cut

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Oh, watch him lie on his lounge, that old Aragón, that sharp fella. Covered in that velvet red robe of his, sipping idly from a cup of whiskey. There's a man you'd call a friend. There's a chap you'd call when there's trouble -- not because he can help, but he can stand there looking, make a witty quip.

You could kiss him, right now, but you won't. Because you know Aragón, that sharp fella. You know that cup looks like it's full of whiskey, but chances are, it's full of cum.

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my mom was asking me for possible examples of what i mean when i said i wanted short hair
so i showed her this example of troye sivan

and then she started yelling at me "SEE THIS IS WHY YOUR FATHER AND I DONT WANT YOU TO GET SHORT HAIR LIKE THAT! BECAUSE IT'S GUY HAIR! THERE IS NO WAY I'D EVER LET YOU GET A HAIRCUT THAT LOOKS LIKE A GUY!"

and aaaaaaa that is very unpleasant

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If you’re like me, you’ve accepted the fact that writing is a constant exercise of forgetting and then re-learning the single most basic goddamn rules every time. Technical stuff is easy—hey, commas go here, semicolons go there, slap in the butt and go get ‘em, tiger—but conceptual stuff?

Pff, fuck me. 

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RIP My old laptop. My new one isn't completely set up yet and ready for writing, so I've got the old one up one last time. I typed over a million words on this thing, amassed hundreds of memes, bookmarked too many goddamn things, and fumed at poorly written Netflix drivel on this idiot hunk of plastic. I covered it with far too many stickers, let my cats near it far too many times, and dropped it once or twice. The keyboard is pretty funky too, if I do say so myself because everyone who has

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It's either Google Adsense or Donating Money to the Site to keep it up.

You want your clop? Go to Derpibooru or R34 Paheal.

Need to rely on clickbait cover art to gather in the views on get on that precious Feature Box? How about actually practicing your writing so you can be proud of making top quality stories (or stories that you can care about)?

This site is ultimately about the stories, not the cover arts.

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Twice a week, I’m immortal, and my brain contains the entire fucking Universe. Alternatively, I die. Zero middle ground.

Let’s talk about stress, exhaustion, and the need for a creative outlet. But, you know, in a funny way.

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Fuck it. Here’s a thesis in two parts that literally nobody will like, ‘cause y’all fucking cowards.

• Being featured isn’t actually that hard. That’s how you get a popular story.
• Being featured ultimately doesn’t fucking matter. That’s not how you get famous.

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ok so actually i might delete this

but do u remember in like december or whatever when i said i had a kinda bf

well i broke up with him

yeah

*pretends to listen to single ladies by beyonce*

*actually watches downton abbey like the dweeb i am*