You have them, but they’re not what you think they are.

Bella drives home and heads to her room, sobbing. I couldn’t care less. She realizes she’s been a horrible person, trying to stay with both Edward and Jacob even though she knew that was impossible. By not choosing, she kept on hurting them. That’s the only reason she’s a horrible person? I would’ve thought it was also her obsession with boys and mistreatment of her father, among other things.

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hello wanted to see if you think my oc needs to be improved

Oh dear god.
I recently read Carousel and another horror fic before I went to sleep.
Bad, bad idea.
Stupid, stupid, wild imagination.
Damn my chaotic personality.
Why do I scare myself so?
Can't sleep.
Buck me.

School's back!! Noooooo!!

I'm feeling a little less down than before, but this is all I've ranted over:

Alright so first off, I'm sick with stress, my immune system is making me tured if I'm not eating a lot, I'm trying to keep a level head, my dad is on breathing tubes because he can barely breathe without them and we thunk he might have covid so I can't leave my house for the next few days, I was supposed to be at a planning meeting tonight but I can't go and I'm hecking mad at everything and I hate it!

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Why are there no more than three stories on this site about Bicorns?
For those that don't know, bicorns are often described as fabulous beasts that are part-panther, part-cow creature with a human-like face, according to European satirical works of the Middle Ages and Renaissance.
However, modern media have created a more equine version of the beast.

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I have watched MLP:FiM for a while now, and only this year have I checked out this site. The authors here are inspiring, and while I don't have any plans to make a story currently, I do plan on reviewing stories.

this is not me.

do not read this.

TFlim & Flam's ad-stravaganza!

• MLP: FiM
• Comedy
• Random

capitalism.

• Narcotics
• Flim and Flam

TechnoNerd · 1000 words  ·  16  3 · 265 views

Okay...

Prepare yourself for a very strange question related to a scat clopfic. I'm having a hard time with a certain collab I'm doing, and there is a specific story that comes to mind that I remember, but can't find for the life of me. I'm thinking about joining the My Little Toilet group just to find this thing... Also, no idea if it's even from this site; I just remember reading this.

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Well.... Its currently 3am where I am.... How?! This has been going on for about a week and a half! I've been napping in the middle of the day at about 3 or 4 nearly every every other day! I slept a good 8 hours last night but I was still tired at 3:30pm today! What the actual fuck!? I do nothing all day!! How am I not on a normal sleep pattern!!? Why am I not tired right now other than the fact that I just took a nap 7 hours ago!!? For why, body!?!? WHY AM I SLEEPING LIKE THIS!?!? WHY!?!?!?

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While working on Futalight and Wishing On A Star, this bloody thing came to me all of a sudden and transformed into a spur of the moment I simply had to write down. It's probably going to be a two part short story and nothing more.

It's funny when you write something you don't like, sit back and look back over it. I always have the interesting dilemma of should I, or shouldn't I post it...

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I've got two ever so boring looking classes this month for school, and I'm screwed. Why the hay would I do stuff I'm not interested in? Sociology? I don't remember wanting that class. English, unfortunately, is required, so I've got another month of English... URGH-

WHY THOUGH

WHY DID IT HAVE TO COME TO THIS

I don't think there's legitimately any way I can be positive about this. As most of you know I'm in the USA, and also as most of you know we elected a LIVING MEME into office last night.

I would say don't panic, but given that this is Donald Trump we're talking about here, I feel like it's justified. We're fucked.

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I had a dream last night, one in which I was randomly passing by a really fancy house where a couple was having a domestic disturbance outside. The psychotic looking wife was just screaming at her shell-shocked looking husband. I muttered something under my breath as I was passing, and she somehow heard me; she got this crazy look in her eye and whipped out a handgun and shot me several times, intentionally missing anything vital. She had her husband drag me into the house and dress and clean

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I've decided to broach this topic for the first time since signing up to this site over a year ago.

I've been writing for almost as long as I can remember, deciding fairly early on that writing is what I want to do. That really hasn't changed much, and it's been years since I came to that realization.

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My experience with the blogging function of this website, as limited as it is this being my second blog entry, has driven me to scream into the void a question which shall fall from my lips with clanging echoes.

Who is reading these things?

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