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i will do it
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Mar 1, 2023 04:01
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| # ¿ May 14, 2024 16:12 |
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crows, 1450w removed derp fucked around with this message at 18:00 on Apr 19, 2023 |
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Mar 5, 2023 23:21
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test post
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Mar 7, 2023 20:19
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i would like a picture
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Mar 8, 2023 00:37
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oops
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Mar 13, 2023 03:56
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lamb 1498w removed derp fucked around with this message at 00:56 on Dec 15, 2023 |
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Mar 13, 2023 04:02
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i am in
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Mar 30, 2023 19:48
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Dearest Nelly, removed derp fucked around with this message at 00:57 on Dec 15, 2023 |
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Apr 3, 2023 02:00
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i am in
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Apr 21, 2023 00:46
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a beautiful host 1500w removed derp fucked around with this message at 00:57 on Dec 15, 2023 |
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Apr 23, 2023 22:22
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hello. my favorite thing is BOOKS i like to read books, and hope to someday write books. but not just any books, in fact, if you take books as a whole, i actually hate books and they make me want to puke. but i love Real Books and i walk around with my nose in the air while reading them in a holier than though attitude all day long. come to the book barn and look in the Real Books thread and get called a baby because you read childrens books. then read a Real Book and never go back. thx. edit: that means im in if it wasnt clear
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May 8, 2023 23:50
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a bundle of papers in an attic box 1200w removed derp fucked around with this message at 00:58 on Dec 15, 2023 |
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May 15, 2023 05:14
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Travel week - what happened while you were gone? One thing most people have been missing out on these past few infectious years is TRAVEL This week give me travel stories. Whatever style genre or etc, but one rule: your story takes place on a journey, departure and arrival NOT included. It's not about the destination, as they say. Your story should start with the characters already on their journey and end before they complete it. It's something that happens along the way, a story to tell when they get wherever they are going. If you ask, when you sign up i will provide a destination, and/or a mode of transportation. But they will be mostly real, so scifi/fantasy writers be warned. General TD rules apply. 1300 words DEADLINE: whenever i wake up monday morning, probably around 7am pst Judges: Me ?? ??? Entrants: my shark waifu chairchucker azza bamboo rohan curlingiron antivehicular derp fucked around with this message at 21:45 on May 21, 2023 |
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May 16, 2023 04:15
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My Shark Waifuu posted:In, destination please! Machu Picchu
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May 16, 2023 06:50
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Chairchucker posted:Hello please give me some transportation. Rickshaw
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May 16, 2023 15:42
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Antivehicular posted:Sure. In, give me a destination and mode of travel the bar at the front of the 'boat' on top of the marina bay sands hotel in singapore skateboard
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May 20, 2023 04:06
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Chairchucker posted:can I have a destination too please St Peter's basilica
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May 20, 2023 16:01
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Signups closed
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May 20, 2023 16:02
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Submissions closed
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May 22, 2023 16:10
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---Judgement--- in a split decision, shark waifu gets the win for a cool story full of historical detail and energetic writing HMs to antivehicular and rohan loss goes to curlingiron for a story that, while not terrible, was at the bottom of both judge lists. crits to come later tonight or tomorrow
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May 23, 2023 02:51
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judgecrits for week 563 A Walk in the (Enchanted) Woods by curlingiron: A goofy adventure with my DND friends, this could be fun in principle, but I found myself becoming annoyed along with Mira as I read it. The end, when the forest basically gives them the finger, got a chuckle out of me and redeemed the story by a lot, but not enough to bring it up from the bottom in a pretty strong week. Wiñay Wayna by Shark Waifuu Yes, this is good, great attention to history and great writing which had me glued to the page. A window into the past that I greatly enjoyed looking through. I felt his pain and his determination very vividly. This really is the kind of story I enjoy, an internal battle with the self, but one that has big external consequences too. My heart was pounding along with his as I read. Great! And Now, For The Main Event. By azza bamboo Interesting concept, like the ghost of motorcycles past, made me think about death, and made me hope that I too could have a chance to look over my life before the final curtain drops. I enjoyed the prose here, but I didn’t get a sense of the stakes for Michaela. Is she trapped there until she figures it out? Is there anything else, in all her entire life, that she might want to go look at or redo before the end, other than eating a hotdog? On the Ascent by antivehicular I was expecting someone skateboarding through Singapore on their way to the bar, but you took the prompt literally, a seemingly impossible task, but you found a very creative way that turned out really fun and heartfelt, and did capture the spirit of the prompt as well. Even the character’s reasoning for doing such a thing, and the way the bet came about, it all felt very believable, I didn't even narrow my brow once. Enjoyable story. OK But What if God Wants the Pope to Die? By chairchucker Fun story with a splash of philosophy/theology. The conversation with the nun about the atrocities in the bible was great, and somehow you made it fit perfectly into a wacky adventure. There was just enough info given about each of the characters to make them seem realized and real. Murder on the Orbital Express by rohan I love all the tropes! This was a fun read. As someone who has watched every murder mystery anywhere on tv, I am very familiar with all the cliches, and I love them. The details aren’t super important in this case though, because the fun is slowly realizing it’s a real murder, which Hannah refuses to believe. The only issue I had was the space stuff was very distracting. Since it played no part in the story, I found myself imagining them on a present day train for most of it, and getting bumped out of the story by all the space related stuff. Very fun story, contender for the win.
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May 23, 2023 03:36
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in with SOLIVAGANT
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May 23, 2023 17:17
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paths 1275 words removed derp fucked around with this message at 00:58 on Dec 15, 2023 |
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May 29, 2023 04:36
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In, flash
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Jun 7, 2023 03:52
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the pack 500w prompt: disco inferno Black snow is falling in silken flakes on the grass. A scrawny yellow dog sniffs the twilight air. His eyes dart left and right, but he sees no motion of the animal kind. The wind changes and the dog catches the scent again, and bounds down a grassy hill toward the setting sun. At the bottom of the hill is a cracked strip of asphalt. He scans for other dogs, or anything that might hint at danger, but there is nothing, he has been alone for many sleeps and many meals. The colorful metal beasts that crouch on the path no longer catch his attention; the time when they roared endlessly has receded far into the foggy past. The black snow grows thicker, and the smell of acrid smoke masks the other scent, but the dog’s growling stomach fuels him, and he sniffs and snorts until he finds the way. The metal creatures are everywhere now, some of them are even laying on their backs, and the crisscrossing paths are littered with shattered glass and dry or burnt garbage. The strengthening smell pulls the yellow dog onward. He both worries and hopes that other dogs are there eating his meal. He licks the air, he tastes the correct direction. The sky turns a deep reddish purple and shadows begin to melt into a common pool of dark. He rounds a corner and flinches. Blood orange flames roar and surge up from a lone building in a row of charred husks. Bright waves of heat dry his nose and he scurries back, yelping--then the smell hits him, the powerful aura of blood and meat, and drool pours from his chops. Something freshly dead and bleeding is laying on the cracked pavement. Its shadow is slithering back and forth in the firelight, as if trying to escape the body. The yellow dog squints and presses through the heat to the corpse. It is brown and svelte with four legs, and a charred beam lays across its neck. It is hot and fresh, and once again the meal is all his. No muzzles are buried in the guts, no eyes are glinting with reflected flames, no jostling and nipping for position. Despite his hunger, it is bittersweet. With a deep groan like the dying, the front of the building collapses in a cloud of embers and smoke, and coals and chunks of plaster making a brief clattering rain on the pavement. Out of the smoke a ball of sparkling light rolls on the pavement toward the little yellow dog, and comes to a stop leaning against the carcass. The ball is bigger than him, and many faceted, and each facet holds a picture of a little yellow dog just like him. He throws his head back and howls, and a dozen faces howl with him. He plunges his snout into the warm, wet neck and tears out a bite, feeling at home for a brief moment, while the pack of dogs inside the ball rip strips of flesh beside him.
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Jun 12, 2023 02:27
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The Beach: a place where I constantly find myself and each time I think why am I here? and have NO good answers because the beach is a disgusting place with constant eyewatering wind and sand in every crevice and the stench of dead fish and the screeching of gulls and children and the utterly endless noise of all kinds and the wetness and the salt and the torturous sun blasting down everywhere without an ounce of shade. The Dream: --recurring-- At the very least once every six nights (of which last night was one) I am tortured by a disgusting dream which no amount of analysis or therapy or pills or hypnosis or other snakeoil new age nonsense has been able to remedy. In the dream, which is entirely vivid and utterly convincing, I find myself on an empty shore at twilight and the tide is curling around my ankles and my feet are rooted in the sand. I realize, simultaneously, that I can not move and that the tide is rising at an alarming rate. The water passes my hips and shoulders and glugs in my ears and then, a scrap of seaweed wraps itself around my face and squirms its way into my mouth until I wake gagging and thrashing my duvet onto the floor. The Reality: I keep returning to the beach. I keep standing on the shore. I keep enduring the noise and heat and wondering when the tide will rise. And every time the salt sloshes past my ankles to lick my shins I think could this be it? Could this be it? But the wave always runs away from me, slinks away like a beat dog to hide in the sea again.
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Jun 12, 2023 22:37
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not feeling this prompt, somebody BRAWL ME
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Jun 15, 2023 16:37
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hell yeah, get ready to die (from reading my words) now someone judge us and etc
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Jun 15, 2023 17:55
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BUMMERDOME saturn's rings 900 w removed derp fucked around with this message at 00:58 on Dec 15, 2023 |
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Jun 19, 2023 17:03
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Fat Jesus posted:LOSS gently caress YEAH one of us
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Jun 21, 2023 06:31
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in with a bitter old man who plays chess in public (park, mall, wherever they put chess tables)
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Jun 21, 2023 17:42
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Cloud 1000w It is disgusting, and embarrassing as well, I thought sitting on my bench in the park, as I always do sunday mornings, it is embarrassing, I thought, the lack of cleanliness in this park, the utter lack of will of the staff these days, the complete disregard for cleanliness, I thought, leaning over the chessboard that was built into the stone table, whereupon a white splatter of bird poo poo had landed, directly, as if by aim, on the e4 square. Completely unacceptable, I said aloud from the park bench, which held an unforgivably tarnished bronze plaque bearing my name, commemorating my accomplishments and renown in this city, a miniscule bronze plaque only six inches across and barely legible anymore, barely legible even when it was new, even then one had to bend down and squint closely to read my name. Disgusting, I said again, looking at the stained square upon which I wished to place my pawn. It was my practice, as everyone knew, to play e4 and then wait for an opponent to take the black pieces, and I had spent my sunday mornings in this way for years, many years, in fact decades in this manner, playing e4 on this exact table from this exact bench, and yet, despite this common knowledge the e4 square remained in an utterly vile and bespoiled condition. I cast my gaze around for the maintenance man who, despite the state of the working class these days, did quite regularly patrol these grounds, even on sundays, emptying the bins and watering the potted plants, but he was nowhere to be found, and the bins were full to overflowing. A complete disregard, I said aloud to myself, a complete lack of respect. I folded my arms and grimaced involuntarily at the filthy e4 square, and I observed that the other tables appeared to be spotless but for fallen leaves which could easily be brushed aside, but to move would be preposterous, to leave my bench and my table, to uproot and relocate myself because of someone else's mess, someone else’s lack of duty, would be preposterous. Suddenly and all at once the area was suffused with motion, and a dozen loudly dressed youths were cluttering the tables with their belongings. They were everywhere, moving about and blathering at one another, and not one of them paying an ounce of attention to me. You there, I shouted, you, boy! I called until one of them approached my table. He wore a dull cloth tunic and a hood-like head covering, and held a wooden tankard in one hand. Goodday m’lord, he said to me, I hope we be not disturbing ye with our racket, he said, quite respectfully, and with a deference otherwise completely absent in the youth of this generation. I demand to know what’s going on, I said, and gestured at his rabble, who had not ceased moving behind him, taking objects from their bags and placing them upon the tables, which were clearly not meant for this purpose. What is going on, I demanded, and he leaned closely and said, If it pleases ye, m’lord, we’re only putting on a little play and making some music, all for your pleasure of course m’lord, and he bowed quite politely and respectfully. These tables should be shown respect, I said, they aren’t meant for this, and you will clear them immediately when you finish, I can not stand filth on these tables! I pointed at the white spot on the e4 square, and despite the disingenuous and careless nature of his generation, this young man gasped, and gave his own look of concerned disgust, and shook his head, Forgive, m’lord, oh no, we can’t have ye sit at table with such a mess, this’ll never do, not for the likes of you m’lord, and he poured a splatter of liquid from his tankard onto the table, and to my complete astonishment he polished away the spot right then, using his own sleeve. I was frankly astounded at the upstanding nature of this young man, and I told him as much, to which he replied: I’m only doing what’s right m’lord, by my own code of honor to my betters. Behind him someone had begun plucking a stringed instrument, and a woman was singing along in tune. I found the music to be not an entirely distracting waste of time, in fact, her voice was quite calming, and she was dressed, unlike most of the youths prancing about in public these days, completely appropriately, in fact I saw not one leg or bust exposed by the lot of them. What is your name, young man? I asked him. My given name is Anders, m’lord, but you’d be right to call me any which way you please. I nodded with satisfaction. You’ll do well in life, Anders, if you maintain this kind of outlook, I said, and I played pawn to e4 on the table, and to my sheer amazement the young man reached down and immediately played pawn to e5. You play chess? I asked, unable to disguise my shock. I played my knight to f3. Oh, I only dabble m’lord, he said, and stroked his chin thoughtfully before making another move. I stared at the board in disbelief, I stared, aghast, at the e7 square where his king now resided. King e7? I stuttered and sputtered with disbelief. King e7? What is this? King e7? Booooong, Anders said in a voice completely and utterly changed and with his arms stretched wide as if expecting an embrace, and in that moment the air was filled with the vaguely familiar sound of tumbling electronic drums descending rapidly in pitch and then a crescendo of electronic synthesizers and bass guitar thunking, and Anders took a large, white cellular telephone from his pocket and placed it to his ear. Yo, bro, get down to the park we’re all here, yeah, no, yeah, no one is here we got it all to ourselves, yeah, no, yeah, see you here bro, and he turned his back on me and took a lengthy swig from his tankard, the fumes of which caught me full in the mouth and I coughed. Disgusting! I said aloud to no one from my bench, disgusting!
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Jun 26, 2023 03:49
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In, flash me
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Jul 4, 2023 18:37
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noise 1100w removed derp fucked around with this message at 00:59 on Dec 15, 2023 |
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Jul 10, 2023 01:34
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in with Paranoid/Post-modern/Ariana Grande
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Jul 11, 2023 18:08
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moonlight 850w [removed) derp fucked around with this message at 07:13 on Dec 30, 2023 |
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Jul 17, 2023 00:09
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in 506
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Jul 24, 2023 15:40
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agonway 1850w, surrealism, 21st century dada removed derp fucked around with this message at 00:59 on Dec 15, 2023 |
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Jul 30, 2023 22:20
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In gimme a job
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Aug 8, 2023 14:08
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| # ¿ May 14, 2024 16:12 |
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anti ~1500w removed derp fucked around with this message at 01:00 on Dec 15, 2023 |
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Aug 13, 2023 23:18
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