went to alcatraz today. was not able to conclusively locate the secret entrance to the underground lab run by the Cult of the Beast that’s infiltrated the highest echelons of our government (to stop them from distributing soda that mutates people into radio transmitters for a signal that will awaken the long-slumbering mother of monsters beneath the earth), but did locate several promising entrance candidates for the strike team to investigate.

oh, the model industries building is a “rusted out husk” and “structurally unsound” and the public isn’t allowed inside “for their own safety”, sure. i’m sure all that loading equipment lying around is for totally innocuous purposes, and the fact that it’s right next to the powerhouse where all the pumps (repurposed for mutant soda distribution) and generators for the entire island are located- that’s a wacky coincidence, definitely.

you motherfuckers ain’t foolin’ me


@caprice-nisei-enjoyer i appreciate that you’re yes-and-ing the bit here, but the thing you don’t understand is that i am 100%* serious and these are real** problems i am dealing with. Capricornus Industries is a front for the Cult of the Beast and there is a strike team that will be raiding their secret lab under alcatraz to shut them down and prevent humanity from getting Third Impact’d by a demon or whatever. i did go to alcatraz today*** in order to scout out the layout and locate potential security vulnerabilities to exploit, and fresh local ingredients can eat my entire ass

#*exact percentage varies, #**in a world of darkness campaign i’m in where we’re all playing as our real life selves, #***in actual real life, nobody was expecting me to do this and it really was an unnecessary and expensive degree of research


#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #storytime #(if you’re *going* to go on vacation somewhere that does sound like a fun way to decide where)


new gregan


When electronics importer Cara Leon goes missing, private investigator Sam Mujrif is hired by her sister to investigate. Cara is eight times taller than Sam, but evidence soon points to players much smaller than either of them. As Sam and his cross-scale colleagues pursue the case, it becomes apparent that Cara’s disappearance is linked to the development of technology with the potential to reshape their whole society, and radically alter the balance of power between the scales.


he can’t keep getting away with it!


but it’s not the science that makes it great literature but the deep ethical questions that you can use the sci-fi conceits to address, like “would you really arrest a little guy? 🥺”


just a nano little guy? 🥺


#storytime #oh god I haven’t even read The Arrows of Time yet and he keeps writing More #this does look really good though



“These copper ingots,” the devil said, “are of sub-par quality.”
“You accepted them as payment,” the merchant said, “the deal is done.”
“Very well. I will uphold my end of the bargain,” the devil said. “Your name will live forever.”
“That is all I ask,” said Ea-nasir. (Source: Micro SF/F Stories)


#I was double-checking whether I’d ever reblogged the previous post before #and it turns out that not only is *that* one not in here‚ I never reblogged *this* one #managed to dig it up on DuckDuckGo after a few tries #Ea nasir #that one post with the thing


It has happened.

I have purchased Trans Wizard Harriet Porber and the Bad Boy Parasaurolophus

Will provide updates





I’m going to start it pretty soon. I’m for some reason locked out of my student account and email and IT was no help as usual, so what is there to do except read a parody romance novel written specifically to spite J.K. Rowling?

Chuck Tingle has more or less become a meme because of his bizarre titles and covers and because of the Hugo fiasco, but I’ve heard relatively little about what it’s like to actually read his work and I frankly have no idea what to expect or if I should go into this with expectations at all


This book is…surprisingly easy to take seriously as a book. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. But it’s like. A Book and not just an extended joke. Like on some level it’s not particularly terribly written nor does the plot like, completely exist in service to the…whatever humor is derived from the self-aware absurdity of the premise





I love that he’s not even described as a humanoid dinosaur. He’s just sexy goth tattooed Severus snape and he’s also a parasaurolophus and we are left to just figure it out


I have to talk about what is going on with the worldbuilding. Like this is a parody. Of Harry Potter. But there’s an entirely different magic system and….everything???

In summary

  • there doesn’t appear to be a statute of secrecy type thing magic is just fully integrated with the modern world and modern technology
  • Harriet is a wizard, but that means that she creates spells by typing them out in long manuscripts, which on one level is a nod to the book publishing industry but on another level is kind of interesting in of itself
  • there’s a??? spellcasting industry??
  • there are different types of magic users other than wizards, and they appear to be based on the d&d classes
  • or at least, bards exist and they are distinct from wizard
  • the dinosaur is a bard
  • Bigfeet exist and they are integrated with modern society
  • there are sentient motorcycles and no one finds this in any way unusual


…Warlocks in this world get their powers from a pact with Chuck Tingle



The fourth wall break is killing me.


The sexy dinosaur is also trans


As much as I love skillfully crafted satire that takes deft jabs at the flaws of the thing it’s lampooning, there’s also something charming about how every character in this book has a name blatantly and hilariously derived from a Harry Potter character regardless of how most of their roles in the story barely resemble anything like characters in Harry Potter.

…You know, I’m not even sure Chuck Tingle has read Harry Potter.


I’m back to reading. Does chocolate milk have intoxicating effects on sentient motorcycles??

…sentences I never thought I’d write


um im lowkey getting feels from this like there are some genuinely emotionally resonant bits in here what the fuck


chuck tingle’s magic system is unironically better than jk Rowling’s I’m sorry



I’m so sorry to sample the sex scene but. “sexualis secondus” just killed me. I have been pronounced dead by this book. im obliterated this is indescribable



I literally have no idea how to describe what I’m experiencing right now. Like this is a somewhat poorly edited parody adult dinosaur romance novel but. It’s genuinely?? Creative?? In a lot of ways???? And there’s a lot of heart to it, a lot of genuine powerful messages about identity and about art and creativity and the fourth-wall-breaking device is…I can’t explain it because that would spoil it but it’s actually pulled off so well?????

This is not like, a humorous joke story this guy did for Being a Little Shit and Spite reasons, it’s like actually in its themes and message a genuine “fuck you” to j.k. Rowling’s transphobia even though it’s this absolutely wild janky batshit story and I have never experienced anything like this in my LIFE

I did not expect my adhd little heart to be touched by understanding of my fears about creativity and writing and its place in my life. Not like this. What the fuck. What the fuck.





#this has been sitting in my to-reblog for literal months while I struggle to figure out how to tag it #but with @drchucktingle joining Tumblr‚ now seems like a particularly fitting time to dig it out #storytime #fanfic #Harry Potter #Chuck Tingle #nsfw text #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what #cissexism cw?






What the fuck

Room full of clocks at different times, you say


Me, innocently: ooh, someone used a gif… which one?

Me, moments later: dear. god. yes. 100% apt giff usage, thank you.  Steel approved.


#Sapphire and Steel #I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog #juxtaposition #storytime #clocks #(also in all seriousness that house sounds like hell to live in) #(my brother recently tried to put up an analog clock in the living room and I couldn’t stand it)

{{next post in sequence}}



Two identical infants lay in the cradle. “One you bore, the other is a Changeling. Choose wisely,” the Fae’s voice echoed from the shadows. “I’m taking both my children,” the mother said defiantly.

Once upon a time there was a peasant woman who was unhappy because she had no children. She was happy in all other things – her husband was kind and loving, and they owned their farm and had food and money enough. But she longed for children.

She went to church and prayed for a child every Sunday, but no child came. She went to every midwife and wise woman for miles around, and followed all their advice, but no child came.

So at last, though she knew of the dangers, she drew her brown woolen shawl over her head and on Midsummer’s Eve she went out to the forest, to a certain clearing, and dropped a copper penny and a lock of her hair into the old well there, and she wished for a child.

“You know,” a voice said behind her, a low and cunning voice, a voice that had a coax and a wheedle and a sly laugh all mixed up in it together, “that there will be a price to pay later.”

She did not turn to look at the creature. She knew better. “I know it,” she said, still staring into the well. “And I also know that I may set conditions.”

“That is true,” the creature said, after a moment, and there was less laugh in its voice now. It wasn’t pleased that she knew that. “What condition do you set? A boy child? A lucky one?”

“That the child will come to no harm,” she said, lifting her head to stare into the woods. “Whether I succeed in paying your price, or passing your test, or not, the child will not suffer. It will not die, or be hurt, or cursed with ill luck or any other thing. No harm of any kind.”

“Ahhhhh.” The sound was long and low, between a sigh and a hum. “Yes. That is a fair condition. Whatever price there is, whatever test there is, it will be for you and you alone.” A long, slender hand extended into her sight, almost human save for the skin, as pale a green as a new leaf. The hand held a pear, ripe and sweet, though the pears were nowhere ripe yet. “Eat this,” the voice said, and she trembled with the effort of keeping her eyes straight ahead. “All of it, on your way home. Before you enter your own gate, plant the core of it beside the gate, where the ground is soft and rich. You will have what you ask for.”

Keep reading


#fae #storytime #fun with loopholes


i lowkey ship tumblr twitter now


the twitter users are coming QUICK post twitblr yaoi



I have never made art faster in my life


it’s because they’re divorced


Man this goes hard feel free to screenshot 💔😰💔💔😰




The mods are asleep, post Tumblr x Twitter art


Okay okay but this is fascinating because it’s such a visceral example of how mythology works.

Most characters in mythologies are personifications of concepts, or embody some natural phenomenon – like the story of Hades and Persephone is there to explain why the seasons change, Persephone being spring, Demeter – summer, and the absence of them both resulting in death (Hade’s domain) and winter, and so we can’t have Persephone stay in underworld all year round or have Demeter steal her back to earth permanently, otherwise they myth would lose its core function.

Interpreting the myth without the lense of the natural phenomena that it explains would make it lose an integral part of itself, and therefore make the plot and characters seem strange or unnatural. Why does Demeter hate Hades so much, seeing how so many mothers are okay with Zeus doing atrocious things to their offspring just because he’s Zeus? Does Persephone actually want to stay or not? What’s with the bizarre arrangement?

Most modern interpretations strip myths of their natural contexts, making them character-driven instead of phenomena-driven, which just makes them land differently – they can still be fine stories, just not myths, not is the traditional sense.

And now we get to this beauty. This is absolutely a myth, the most classical kind. The relationship between characters, who are personifications of objects, phenomena or concepts (in this case, online platforms) used as an intuitively understood metaphor for an event (the demise of Twitter and the Tumblr userbase being unwilling to accept Twitter’s userbase).

It’s a story that can work as a so-called “explanation myths”. We have seasons because Persephone spends half a yesterday underworld and half a year with her mother. We don’t like Twitter because the Twitter God and Tumblr God broke up. Ladies and gents and other assorted respectables, we here are witnessing the creation of a perfect modern myth.




Okay but which of them took the shoelaces in the divorce?


I thought about it way more than a non-feverish me would, and I’ve come to the conclusion:

The modern myth that is The Divorce of Tumblr and Twitter carries the themes of regression, corruption and downfall. Some of Twitter userbase used to be part of Tumblr userbase, but they left and changed (corruption). Now that Twitter is becoming uninhabitable (downfall), people are trying to return to Tumblr (regression, possible downfall of Tumblr), and to keep them off Tumblr is returning to its old cringe self (regression).

So, if we are to follow the themes, the logical conclusion would be to send the shoelaces back to the president.




This is the fastest I’ve ever written I think

There once lived a young man, handsome as daylight, bright and strong. He was known as Twitter, beloved by the people, a favorite of the gods. His chosen companion, Tumblr, was not dear to the people or the gods. He, a traveling storyteller, preferred solitude. His tales were strange and often unpleasant to the ears, but enchanting in their vulgarity.

One day, Tumblr’s patron goddess, Yahoo, enraged by his vulgar words, put a curse on him. He was not to utter vulgarities, speak of the pleasures of the flesh. His stories of lycanthrope companions were lost to the sands of time, and with them, his last listeners turned away from him.

Twitter watched others laugh at his beloved, turn him away from their doors, and a dark thought settled over him. He was perfect in every way, his only fault was the affiliation with the cursed taleweaver. And so, little by little, they drifted apart.

In his travels, Tumblr stumbled into the temple of Apollo, who bestowed upon him the gift of prophecy. He made acquaintance with the trifecta of wise temple maidens who induced visions through hallucinogenic incense. His stories changed, still bizarre and often vulgar, but at times full of wonder and truth.

At that time, Twitter enjoyed all the luxuries of the mortal world. He was the companion of kings, wealthy merchants, legendary heroes, wise philosophers.

One day, a man richer than rich, richer than the God of wealth, went to the senate of directors and asked to buy the most precious thing in the entire polis.

The senate thought long and hard, and said: “do you wish for our finest singer, the most sweet-voiced of the land, Spotifia? I am afraid I cannot part with her. ”

“No, ” said the rich man, his voice cold and harsh, “I said I have come to buy your most precious thing.”

“Have you come for our gambler, the chosen of the god of luck, MAXimil? They earn us more riches than you can offer. I shall not part with them. ”

“No,” the rich man repeated, “I have come to buy your most precious thing. I have come for Twitter.”

The senators laughed, then, for they knew this must be a joke. Twitter was too beloved by the gods to be owned as a servant. But the rich man did not smile. He offered money, then more and more still. As the goddess of hubris clouded his mind, he offered more money than he could afford to spend, more than the senate could afford to refuse, for it was enough gold to form armies five times the size of their polis.

And so Twitter, the proud Twitter, the untouchable Twitter who laughed at kings and scholars alike, became a servant.

As he was put onto a gilded ship to be sailed off to the rich man’s land, he prayed to the gods that granted him beauty and strength and a sharp tongue, but none answered. His cruelty and vanity made them turn away, and he was too full of his power to notice.

Finally, the young man remembered one more name. He called for Tumblr, his forgotten companion.

First time he called, the birds took off and flew in all directions. Second time he called, the animals fled in fear. Gathering all the strength he had, he called a third time.

His call shook the earth and the skies, and in an instant, Apollo’s taleweaver stood on the shore.

Twitter cried in relief. “My love!” he called, “save me! Save me, and I shall be yours for the eternity to come. I shall bask you in glory and riches. I shall make the people love you.”

Tumblr looked at the rich old man, at the gilded ship, gilded chains, at the other slaves that were meant to please the rich man during his trip, dressed in the finest clothes fit for kings and immortals.

“You’ll like your new life, dear. ” said Tumblr. “You are idle: he shan’t make you do much. You are prideful: he shall treat you like a god. You are vain, and so you might fear you might be forgotten, one servant among many. Fear not,” he smiled. “I shall sing a song of us.”




#I don’t know how I feel about this but it sure is a thing #storytime #Twitter #art #fanart






do you ever form close relationships with people in your dreams and then feel a little sad when you wake up

i had a son in one of my dreams, he was 3 or 4, i loved him so much, i don’t remember his name but i remember loving him so much, and then i woke up and he was gone


Hey um what the FUCk

tldr: boy have i ever



#dreams #storytime #death tw #unreality cw? #holy *fuck* that reaction GIF #(if you don’t get why I’m going ”holy fuck” at that reaction GIF‚ watch ”The Sound of Her Voice” and get back to me) #Star Trek #DS9


Two-Faced Jewel: Session 26

Boated Off the Island


A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at.

[Campaign log]

Last time, the party confronted the manager of Cabana Jim’s Luxury Resort and Spa, Miriko Watchwood. Her attempt to reestablish vampiric dominance over the resort in the wake of Cabana Jim’s death was ill-advised and doomed, and they successfully foiled it with a combination of cool-headed diplomacy and brutal emotional manipulation. And now… they want to recruit her???

Keep reading


#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #high context jokes #(don’t get me wrong the rest of the emotional rollercoaster is good too) #recs

The Luxurious and the Obscene: Food in Fiction – AndaisQ – Original Work [Archive of Our Own]

{{Title link: }}


Maggie Silber-Lin knows that eating is a normal part of human life. There’s nothing inherently shameful about it. It’s just hard, sometimes, to make a living writing about food, when it’s such a sensitive topic, even inside her own head. But everyone has to – well. Survive.

(A series of vignettes in a world that looks more different from our own than it is.)

I finally posted my creative writing thesis! A series of vignettes about food. Also about sex. Also about trying to be a real person when you’re kind of a disaster.


#I saw (via moral-autism) transgenderer’s post calling this a ”really good bit of sociological specfic” #”presumably they posted it on their blog but i cant find it”‚ she said‚ when linking it herself #either my Tumblr-fu is better or I’m just more stubborn‚ because I found the author’s own crosspost #seemed polite to reblog that one instead #this is interesting stuff and I recommend it #for best effect‚ read it while high off your gourd on hormones‚ having already been contemplating other twists your wiring could have taken #it’s an experience #it’s not‚ I admit‚ an experience available to you‚ dear reader‚ but it’s an experience #people who can distinguish between their drive for sleep and drive for sex fascinate me #is the blue I see the same as the blue you see #sexuality and lack thereof #food #storytime #recs #(I do think it carries some of that all-too-common vibe of privacy/sanctity/profundity-as-something-learned-and-something-best-unlearned) #(although you could also interpret it as…not *knowing* how much of it is learned‚ and having no way of knowing‚ and #having to make your peace with that) #((I know I’ve told the yo-yo story a couple of times now)) #((but I also know that most people never had an opportunity to find out if they were the kind of kid who would react that way)) #((and I know that of those who *did* have such opportunities‚ I rarely-to-never hear of any who reacted like I did)) #((so there’s that)) #tag rambles