Moderndayscribing - Scribing Away Little Chips In The Wall

why is my most popular post about a sponge game murdering my little brother’s avatar.

I should just keep you updated on his gaming activity; Right now he’s playing a game where clones of himself run around and that’s it, that’s the end goal.

My brother just said;

The Sponge has already killed one person.

And that person is me.

So now I will be leaving my work and passing it all onto him, as he's clearly the better writer. Good day.

comparable should NOT be pronounced like that

it’s very important that i know whether or not Luke Skywalker is a dumbass or no

How smart is he on average

it’s totally work related

Writing prompt #1

‘It was one hell of a way to die’

They say human beings aren’t fast enough to dodge a bullet.

That the force of that tiny metal shot out is enough to break bones, to physically incapacitate.

That with one shot at the right place, a human person would die instantaneously.

They weren’t wrong.

With just one loud bang, I find myself on my back, staring at the clouds as they made their way through the bright blue sky.

I was walking with my partner, the small part of my brain reminds me. The part that had slowly began to lose strength.

I was walking, I remembered, and I was laughing. I was watching the light in their eyes shine as they chuckled with me, and I was happy.

How did I get here?

My partner and I had gone through so much. We’d battled so many monsters, broken through so many obstacles, faced so much pain.

Finally, finally, we were about to have our happy ending.

With the last bit of strength that my dimming mind had, it pushed to me a small memory.

A memory of sitting at the edge of a stone platform. Of swinging legs, of comforting winds, of a brilliant sunset sky.

A memory of soft contentment, happiness, and hope.

We’d been talking of how we’d like to die, if we had a choice.

They had said peacefully, surrounded by loved ones till the very end, then cremated to have their ashes buried somewhere special.

I’d grabbed their hand and swore that, if they’d died first, I would ensure that was what happens.

The kiss that followed upwards nearly killed me then and there.

They’d asked me, soft curiosity glittering in their gaze, what would be my preferred way to die.

‘I don’t know,’ I’d said. ‘But when I go, I want there to be no pain. I want everyone to be glad when I leave, because it’s my time, and I’m finally getting that eternal peace.’

To me, it felt like a good way to die.

After all I’d been through, I figured I’d at least get to decide how I die.

As my partner’s face appeared in my swimming vision, I realised there were tears streaming down their face. They were screaming at me, holding me in their hands and shaking me.

There was so much pain on their face.

Right then, I knew I could not die. I couldn’t-

I will not.

Not like this.

When are the glowy cats dropping I wanna get one

Scientists have discovered how to make glow-in-the-dark cats by inserting the jellyfish genes that create fluorescent proteins into feline eggs.

Important:

So I just realized after a heavy vent session that I could very well be in an abusive situation with my dad. So I’ve decided to save up enough money to move out once I turn 18, but I need help with that. I currently don’t have a job and even if I did, I wouldn’t have nearly enough to move out in two years.

Edit: he hit me bc I wouldn’t open my phone, called me names, etc. Here’s the post detailing the info somewhat. I’m not in the mental state to do Patreons, I’m sorry.

Another edit: I was given reasons to think he’s abusive. I might write up a post detailing about how I felt when he almost disowned me.

So here’s my Patreon (and a GoFundMe my older brother set up if you’re interested):

Here’s what I’ll do:

~Writing ~Art ~Flag edits ~Edits

Pricing under cut!

As of writing this I am 15 years old. I am now 16

hey, could y’all please boost this?

Keep reading

this. oh my god this. I’ve seen Too Many posts that said “They shouldn’t have fired Carano!! She was just expressing her opinion!! They’re trying to paint it as transphobic and anti-semitic but it’s all fake!!!” and I’m here, knowing that Carano did all those things and deserved what she got, but being unable to say it because I was stupid enough to not save the sources.

Enough is enough.

Carano reaped what she sowed. She deserved to be fired. Kindly please fuck off if you think she didn’t.

Lucasfilm did not fire Gina Carano from The Mandalorian for being Transphobic:

She got fired for being Anti-Semitic.

Her being Transphobic is not at all okay either but,

Anti-Semitism is not talked about enough.

She basically just compared Holocaust victims to being a Republican. Do you realize how fucked up that is?!

I’m Jewish. I really don’t like when someone compares the genocide of 6 million of my people to being a Republican. When was the last time 6 million Republicans were murdered via gas chambers?

People need to know that this was why she got fired. Don’t you dare just like this post!

REBLOG IT

Writing Prompt #3

‘You have 10 days to live.’

Mortality is a dark subject to dwell on.

We don’t often think about what happens when we die, after it, about the death itself. Often times, we go through our daily lives without even being reminded that we are such fragile things.

I lived that kind of life; a life where I went by the days with a kind of reckless, careless freedom.

Perhaps you could call me ignorant, or oblivious. All living creatures die, but with the way I had lived you would’ve guessed I was chasing death.

I wasn’t. I had no intention of dying. I wanted to live. To live without regret, to look back and to say ‘I’m happy with the way I lived’.

That sentence ran through my head when I learned I had 10 days to live. A measly 10 days - barely more than a week - was all that my goodwill had earned.

Yet amidst the raging thoughts one would usually experience when faced with their own mortality, there was one clear sentence. Found beneath the piles of fear, of anger, of ‘why me?’, there it was, clear as day.

‘I’m happy with the way I lived.’

And I was.

Truly, genuinely happy.

After I realised it, it was easier for me to accept my fate. At least, as easy as it can be.

Those around me took longer; longer nights spent holding them while they cried, longer hours spent pounding away at locked doors because I cannot stand not seeing them again before I left.

I didn’t even tell most people. Those who had been with me for years and years, defended me from all sorts of monsters, and yet I kept this secret from them.

I wished I had enough time to tell them, to be able to tell them and be there to reassure them. But I barely had time to comfort the ones closest to me, and to convince them to accompany me on my plan.

My last journey.

I only had a few days left, after spending them on clearing all my extra affairs. It was then that I realised I had been lucky, in a sick and twisted way.

At the very least, I knew enough to plan for it.

After all affairs had been settled, we packed our bags into our car and went on a road trip. We called out buildings, sighs, horses, cows, fields, mountains, lakes, parks, people. We stopped and ate at the most questionable diner I had ever stepped into - and that was truly saying something, as I’d walked into multiple questionable diners.

We traveled and slept and talked. After a while on the road, I’d noticed that the others had began to relax slightly, to enjoy this final journey I’d planned, to live in the moment with someone without many moments left.

I was glad they did. It made the journey easier for me.

After all that traveling, we’d finally arrive at our destination. 

A long bridge, suspended high above a river valley. From the centre, a single piece of cord.

It had been unanimous that I were to go first. The man in charge fixed a harness around my torso, gave the cord a few more experimental tugs, then nodded an affirmative in my direction.

I took in a deep breath, then I jumped.

After it, my friends had applauded me on my bravery. They called me reckless, as always. I smiled cheekily in return, as I’ve always done.

And then we went home.

Bungee jumping had been the last thing on my bucket list. My last hurrah to the life I’d lived before I learned the news.

I was happy, but oh I wished I’d lived longer. Of course I would. I had plans that went on for years, dreams that plummeted like a deflated balloon.

But I dealt with the hand I was given, and while it was truly a shit hand, I was satisfied enough.

9 and 3/4 days after the news, I climbed to the roof of my apartment. The stars still peeked out beneath the ever-brightening sunrise sky, and I had wanted to see them one more time.

One last time.

Despite how dark the subject of mortality can be, Death always came on time.

And I was ready for it.

A part the ‘what he would’ve wanted’ wip I’m working on rn because this chapter is taking a while and I need to feed the wolves. See if you can guess what’s going on!

He didn’t know what he was expecting, couldn’t understand how he hoped for the same mechanic that had helped his buir all that while ago. What, that after all this time she’d not only still be here, but would also be in the hanger his teacher had chosen at random?

Please. He remembered how the other Younglings would hate it if a story melded perfectly for the character’s usage. ‘He has stupid plot armour!’ they’d cry out. ‘It makes no sense!’

Fool him twice for thinking he had plot armour.

I just thought it was funny :)

that was a big fat lie i have not been writing and it’s only thanks to the Mandalorian that i opened another google docs so say thank you to the Mandalorian

if you’re curious about the Mandalorian Fic, I named the Docs “What a waste to be so alone”. Take it as you will

hey yea im back and i’m alive and i’m here to tell you that i am hyperfixating on The Mandalorian 

i am writing. i am writing about what i promised. but i am also writing about the Mandalorian. you can read what i wrote, but im also writing more. its just a sorta continuation of that fic.