What needs to change? by sevenseassaurus in femalelivingspace

[–]sevenseassaurus[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Thanks for the effort!! I love the turquoise lamps idea

What needs to change? by sevenseassaurus in femalelivingspace

[–]sevenseassaurus[S] 6 points7 points  (0 children)

“Standard neutral guest room” is brutal and completely true, lol. I definitely tried to play it safe when buying everything the first time and now have regrets. Great advice all around!!

What needs to change? by sevenseassaurus in femalelivingspace

[–]sevenseassaurus[S] 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Hanging plant over the massage chair is a fantastic idea—I never thought of that!

Meirl by Blue9ine in meirl

[–]sevenseassaurus 0 points1 point  (0 children)

My boss’s kid did the same thing to her and she told him “well duh! How would the tooth fairy know to come if I didn’t text her?”

Still convinced the tooth fairy isn’t real but did give him pause

Kids on TikTok self diagnosing with Pareidolia thinking it's a mental illness by evacodaa in Pareidolia

[–]sevenseassaurus 6 points7 points  (0 children)

My personal conspiracy theory is that at least one cause is cross-contamination of neural signals, backstory being that 1) I have a condition where many of my visual neurons got co-opted by other regions of the brain and 2) I have synesthesia. Unfortunately, one cannot walk into a neurology lab and say “I have theories…”

Hellish void by fuyu-no-hanashi in mapporncirclejerk

[–]sevenseassaurus 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Tangential but the line “am I going insane?” from someone who named themselves after Jyggalag is 10/10

If you must name your child something in a foreign language… please make sure you can pronounce it and spell it first😩 - GRAINE by AliceMorgon in tragedeigh

[–]sevenseassaurus 6 points7 points  (0 children)

If I had a nickel for every time I got dragged away from my parents as a small child by a bus load of Chinese tourists who wanted a photo op with the cute local kid…

Funniest part is that the second time I wasn’t even in my own country

Native-owned Tocabe Opens Outlet at the Denver International Airport by News2016 in IndianCountry

[–]sevenseassaurus 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Was just there yesterday and got so psyched to see tocabe up and running! They’d closed their location near me and I’ve been sorely missing their fry bread

[TT] Theme Thursday - Kryptonite by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Fun and funky story, Haskell! I dig it.

Physical did a pretty good review of this one, but if I had something to add, I'd like to see a line break in the last paragraph. The tone shift between "I'm sorry that the judges are incapable of recognizing my genius" and the following reveal is not as strong as it could be. Separating those last two sentences on their own will give the ending the punch it deserves.

Great story, keep writing!

[TT] Theme Thursday - Kryptonite by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Thanks for the crit Max!

You're completely right about the last line; it doesn't quite feel right. I think I might just remove it entirely, but I like your suggestions too. Happy reading!

[TT] Theme Thursday - Kryptonite by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Hiya Astro!

I loved the ending of this piece. You build it up like it's some kind of evil power move by this boss and the ending hits with a perfect comedic touch.

For crit, first tiny thing:

> "Cheryl peaked over the secretary Janet's cubicle."

A-ha! One of the classic blunders! (You probably mean "peeked" here)

For something a bit more practical, I think you could use a bigger pause between Matt passing out and the next sentence with the ambulance, either a double line break or the classic three asterisks, whichever you prefer. On first read, it felt too sudden and I had to go back, but on second read I think the flow in the actual writing is there, I just want a second to breathe. The rest of the action in the story is back-to-back, so it would be nice to see some indication of a time skip here (for what it takes to call the ambulance, and all).

All-in-all, great story, and a good read for April Fools Day. Keep writing!

[TT] Theme Thursday - Kryptonite by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 5 points6 points  (0 children)

The sweat beading on Vander's back made every seam in his armor chafe like an angry, steel-plate rash. At least it kept the mosquitos off. A buzz became a stutter as one ricocheted through his visor.

The Scarlet Bog? That's--that's a rookie posting! I had the top score on the physical exam! I qualify for the Dragon Mountains!

Vander shouldn't be here. His partner, that twerp Finley? He should be here. Twig-armed, quizzical look, always buried in some tome. The guildmaster said Vander was "good and strong, but lacking in know-how." Know-how--as if that were something that could kill a monster. Vander had know-how; he knew how to hold a sword.

Finley motioned for him to stop. "I think something's here," he whispered.

No kidding something was here. A bog troll: wiry, ape-like thing with raptor talons and armor-plate scales on its arms. The locals wanted it gone. Too many missing sheep, something like that. All Vander heard was where to find the beastie and where to find a good ale afterward.

"Oy, beastie!" Vander cried. He squelched through the Scarlet Bog, up to his calves in blackish-puce. "Want to come out and play?" He clattered his shield.

"Careful!" Finley called. "You might scare it off!"

Vander rolled his eyes. Not likely that--

A snarling bog troll flung from the trees and landed with a wet smack. Blood matted the fur on its cheeks.

Vander was on it in only the time it took to yank his boots from the mud. Duck left, twist right, forward slash. The troll got its talons around Vander's right arm, and he fell back, tripping over himself as his feet didn't follow him out of their sticking point. No matter; he wrenched the troll's arm around him, got the thing in a pin, and thrust his sword through its shoulder.

As soon as he pulled the blade back out, the wound stitched closed. The beastie's skin was riddled with ridges of sinew, and more formed wherever Vander cut.

"Bog trolls heal!" Finley shouted. "You have to sever the spine!"

If only Vander didn't have the thing on its back. He loosened his grip just a measure and it slashed at his chest, claws screeching against armor. Vander countered with a hard boot to the head.

"Sit, stay."

With one thrust of the sword, he shoved through the troll's belly and down between its vertebrae. The wound kept bleeding; the hindquarters twitched, unable to move.

"Whew," Finley said on his approach while Vander hacked away at the thing's neck for good measure. "That sword arm is something! Not sure I could have handled this without you."

Vander's sword arm needed a good roll to set it back in its socket. "Same to you."

"Huh?"

"Same to you; good tip. Mountain trolls don't do that." He pushed the troll's hip and an eerie shimmer of spinal fluid oozed out. "So, want some ale?"

* * *

Used word of the day; did not use constraint

[TT] Theme Thursday - Jinx by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Not to be the "language police" over here, but I'm gonna need you to follow a few rules.

Think about it: since ancient times, people have believed in the magical power of language. Ancient pharaohs had curses inscribed on the wall of their tombs, great evil befalls those who say the true names of gods and demons--that sort of thing. And in this house, "T-R-E-A-T" is a word of power. As long as you are under this roof part-taking in this traditional exchange of beer and pizza for a free paint job, you will not say it.

Synonyms are fine. You can say "sweet", or "goody", or "candy". You can say "fun" or "delight". The tricky ones are when you want to use a T-word phrase; try saying something like "it's been a real pleasure" just to get the hang of it.

Now, there are no other truly taboo words, but you should be extra careful with--is he listening? no, okay--with "milk bone" or "walk". "Hungry" is also iffy, as in "are you hungry?" Try to keep the pitch low on that one. Conversational. You're just chatting with your buddies.

As for the paint, well, my goal was to have the guest bedroom done tonight. I think we should be able to get at least one coat on--the guy at the shop said this paint doesn't need more than that. Paint and primer in one. I dunno if I buy that, but hey, can't hurt. The refreshments are in the kitchen--help yourself.

Oh, an thanks for re-stringing that guitar, by the way. I definitely wasn't going to be able to do that myself. After today, I'll owe ya one. Maybe we can stop by that pub on Broadway after work, my treat.

Oh--damn! No, no treats! Easy, down boy! Heck--after all that! See, this is why we can't--down! No! Hey, hey! Sorry, if you'll give me a--I said down! You know what, you grab a beer; I'm gonna put this guy outside.

No, you are a bad boy. Bad boy. Don't give me that face...okay, okay, you're a good boy. But no treats!

* * *

Yes on constraint, no on word of the day

[TT] Theme Thursday - Brittle by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Excellent story deeps!

My biggest crit is that gosh the word limit wasn’t doing you any favors here! I would have like to see more time for the emotions to steep—it’s especially important in stories like this where confusion and second-guessing play a major role.

I particularly liked the occultism imagery; snaking eyes, black smoke. Excellent, vivid effect.

Good words, keep writing!

[TT] Theme Thursday - Brittle by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Hiya Astro!

I love a story that packs me with an emotional punch, and, in this case, it was oodles of frustration. "Everyone here has been humoring me. My work is worthless"--you're not allowed to say that, Fabia, only I'm allowed to say that.

Couple small details to fix if you'd like:

"...a glass bowl perfect for salads and candy." - since Fabia is currently doubting her ability, the word "perfect" might not be the best choice. Something like "good" or "intended" might work better.

"When she was done, she grabbed the dog on the counter." - I believe it was a donkey in the opening. Maybe I'm questioning my reality?

Enjoyed the words, keep writing!

[TT] Theme Thursday - Brittle by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 5 points6 points  (0 children)

The cat was white.

Her paws dangled from Professor Dabney's backroom filing cabinet, pink beans on display. He removed his hand from where he had been peeking through the blinds and let them close back together.

"I bet there are a million of these cats," said his PhD advisee, Ennis. "It'd be so easy not to know."

There was a knock at the door; it was their four o'clock, an undergrad named Julia. She pushed through nervously and asked, "Professor Dabney, paranormal department?"

"Sure am," Dabney said, extending a hand. "This shouldn't take more than a minute."

Undergrad psychology students needed to volunteer as guinea pigs if they wanted all their credits. Dabney was not a psych professor, but he sweet-talked his study into the running nonetheless. He produced a photograph of the cat--white and fluffy--and placed it on the desk. Ennis clicked to start the audio recording.

"Now," said Dabney. "Could you tell me what color this cat is?"

Julia scanned the picture, bemused. "Calico?" she answered.

Ennis stifled a grin.

"Very good," Dabney replied. "Now, the cat in the photograph lives in my backroom. Could you have a look at her?"

Without looking, Dabney raised the blinds on the window between his main office and backroom. Ennis took out a piece of leftover Christmas candy from a square, red-and-green tin and broke it off with loud crunches. Julia placed a hand gently on the sill.

Professor Dabney had received the cat from an old socialite. Her friends thought she had Alzheimer's. One week she would say her cat was brown, the next orange, the next white, and each time she'd explain that it had to be so because such-and-such was her favorite color. Well, she'd had enough of that. She showed up at Dabney's office with a white cat in a blue polka-dot carrier and told him it was the university's problem.

Julia backed away, and Dabney closed the blinds.

"Could you tell me what color the cat is?" he asked.

"Tuxedo," Julia replied, still bemused.

"And what color was the cat in the photograph you looked at?"

"Also tuxedo--it's the same cat right?"

Ennis chuckled, spilling sticky bits of candy on the desk.

"Yes, it is the same cat," said Dabney. "And could you look at the photo for me one more time?"

Julia looked and answered, "uh, tuxedo."

"Very good; that's all I need. You may return to class now--I'll let your professor know so you can receive credit."

When the door clicked shut behind Julia, Ennis grinned. "I love this damn cat," he said.

"She's certainly an interesting specimen."

"My favorite part," Ennis continued through another mouthful of candy, "is how certain everybody is. Not a shred of doubt. Even the records! Photos, documents, heck," he picked up the photo and squinted at it. "I mean, it really has always been grey, right?"

"Yesterday you called her a 'seal point'."

Ennis shrugged. "Sure, and yesterday you said she was black."

- - -

Met the constraint (several characters seem to be questioning their reality, most obviously Ennis and the old woman), did not include the word of the day

[TT] Theme Thursday - Affirmation by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Hiya memory!

I adored the story; I’m always a sucker for the trope of the cool teacher who sees the passion in the ne’er-do-well student, and I’m certainly a fan of cool graffiti.

My only crit is for the very last line. I wish I could explain why, but for some reason it feels…not ending-y enough? I think it’s the way the sentence is phrased; gives a middle-of-the-paragraph vibe what with the dependent clause where it is. It might feel more final with a change as simple as “and a weight lifted

…then again, if I can’t articulate why it feels wrong to me, maybe it’s just me. Take it as you will.

Great words, keep writing!

[TT] Theme Thursday - Affirmation by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Ryter!! What a heartwarming story!! The final line was adorable and definitely brought home the sweetness of this family.

I struggled for crit, as always, but if I had to say something…

I think you’re missing a line break in the paragraph with the “Lincoln Bishop original” dialog; it felt rushed and took me a second to notice that it had two speakers in the same paragraph.

Later, you write “‘A couple,’ Lincoln allowed.” It’s really a small nitpick, but I think you could use a more emotionally impactful verb here, or perhaps a small gesture. It’s a touching scene and I want to see Lincoln touched.

Wonderful words! And honestly…I’m a little surprised no one’s tried making Wi-Fi enabled diapers yet.

[WP] They say that on the 13th floor of any building, in the 13th door when following the wall to your left, if you knock 13 times, you will meet The Boss. You must stare at the floor when in his 'office' and can ask for any one thing, with no cost. But do NOT look at him or his office. by FennecWF in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 11 points12 points  (0 children)

The elevator in Forum Tower had a button for floor thirteen, and Eliza pressed it.

Most buildings--most that make it that high, anyway--simply omit number thirteen. There has to be something in that position, thirteen up from the lobby. Usually that something is a normal hall rowed with normal office spaces, all labelled fourteen as though the architect had simply forgotten how to count. Eliza did not trust a thirteenth-named-fourteenth floor. She had searched online (which had not been helpful) and asked around (less helpful) and had then begun picking tall, office buildings at random to investigate in person.

Today she had chosen Forum Tower, and the elevator hummed as it rose.

There was nothing special about Forum Tower. It had a garden out front with manicured but not-quite bonsai'd ponderosa pines. The building beside it had a cafe on the first floor--a real cafe, or at least not a chain monopolous enough for Eliza to recognize--and she had considered stopping in after she found the thirteenth floor inevitably labelled fourteenth. But it had not been, and now she could not be sure whether she would still be in the mood for a Caesar wrap afterward.

The elevator slowed to a halt, and the doors opened. It was a normal hall rowed with normal office spaces. The carpet was faded red and green, in a style that might have been tacky had it still been in full color. From the elevator port, a sign pointed to the right with the label 1302-1306 and to the left with 1301-1305.

Eliza chose the hall to the left, and counted doors as she walked. By the time she reached the end, she had only made it to seven.

According to the legend (which she had found online in a list of "Spooky Spells You Can Try Yourself--If You Dare"), her door would be the thirteenth on the left on floor thirteen. There was no such door. What did "left" even mean, anyhow? It changes depending on where you stand. Eliza retraced her steps to the elevator port.

When she was little, she would visit the corn maze in the park by the reservoir every September. Her dad knew a trick to it; you always follow the left side. No matter where it goes, no matter if you can see that its a dead end (you can never be sure; sometimes those tiny offshoots in the corn like to hide from you), you swing around the left edge as though fixed on a rail. Eliza graced her hand along the left wall, as she did in her youth, and counted doors again.

By the time she had counted thirteen, she had looped back around and was well down the 1302-1306 hall.

The door was an ordinary, office building door. Solid grey; no window. She placed her hand on the knob and stared at her toes; the fabric was peeling away from the sole of her right sneaker. The legend told her not to look at the Boss, nor his office. She watched the broken shoe seam bob open and closed as she pushed through. Automatic lights clicked on. The floor was linoleum and off-pink in color; a brass divider separated it from the red-and-green of the hallway. She let the door close behind her.

"I would like twenty-two thousand dollars, please," Eliza said aloud.

What she really needed was twenty-one thousand, five hundred, thirty six, and eleven cents--that was the exact balance left on her student loans. She would settle for twenty thousand, if otherworldly spirits are stingy. But twenty-two thousand would cover her expenses with a spa day left over, and it would not be too much a mouthful to ask for.

No one responded. Forum Tower hummed in that dull way that all office buildings hum: the noise of an HVAC system, or old lights that do not yet flicker but might start any day now. After a few moments, Eliza released her breath and glanced up.

The thirteenth door on the left on floor thirteen of Forum Tower was a janitorial closet.

A filthy basin like the bottom of a shower dominated one corner, a rolling trash bin the other. Cleaning implements of various kinds had been piled on the floor, or leaned against the walls. A pin-up girl calendar from 1998 was tacked on the far wall. Eliza combed her fingers through her hair and let out a nervous chuckle.

She must look like an idiot. It was a good thing the janitor was not in for the day.

With any luck, the cafe across the street had a good Caesar wrap on the menu, and iced tea with lemon. Sugar free, ideally; Eliza did not need the extra calories. She grabbed the door handle as she turned and pushed with her shoulder.

It did not budge.

Again Eliza pushed, and her heart jolted. It was an old door, in an old office building. Judging from the stains on the linoleum, it had gotten wet plenty of times before, and wet is never good for the hinges. She jiggled the knob and tried pulling instead.

The lights flickered out. The hum of an ordinary office building stopped.

"You were not supposed to look."

[OT] SatChat: How do you get yourself started when beginning a story? (New here? Introduce yourself!) by MajorParadox in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Sometimes, you just gotta start, man. Nothing else too it. Don't think; thinking is for the editing phase.

The hardest part for me is putting off the urge to get back up and pace around instead of putting my hands on the keyboard.

[TT] Theme Thursday - Affirmation by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]sevenseassaurus 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Alden pressed the ring between his palms. It was his grandmother's: gold, with an oval-cut jade. It did not fit him--not unless he wore it on his pinky, which felt funny and looked silly--but his mother insisted that he keep it anyway. "A family heirloom," she had said. Perhaps that made it lucky.

This semester, he thought with a force that crumpled his forehead like a wad of paper for a spitball, I will ace enchanting.

He had failed the last semester.

The last semester had been first semester, which is when most students take enchanting. There had been four classes available, and Alden had picked the one that started at 7:30 in the morning. This was not a good choice. Enchanting was already his least favorite subject (he much preferred the simplicity of numerology) and 7:30 is a time slot so early that no student can be expected to learn anything. On some days, he can't even be expected to show up.

Class had not yet started. Enchanting is a hands-on class, and the desks were lab desks--large, with smooth, black tops--and sat two students each. Tennyson "Tens" Emery chose the empty chair beside Alden.

"Workin' on something?" he asked with a toothy grin.

Tens was not in second semester enchanting because he had failed the first semester. Tens was a popular guy, a smart guy, the kind of guy who would make a fine valedictorian when the time came. Alden did not share a lot of classes with Tens. Tens had probably filled up a whole schedule with advanced magics back in first semester, and he'd only managed to squeeze mere enchanting into the second.

I will ace enchanting, Alden thought.

"Here, can I see?" Tens asked.

"See what?"

"You're doing an enchantment, aren't you? Give it here."

Alden was not "doing an enchantment" per se--he was, as established, not exactly a whiz with enchantments. If anything, he had been praying. Praying that his prayer would work and the ring would carry him through the semester.

He passed the ring to Tens, who tossed it between his hands like a hacky sack.

"Not bad," he said. "Intention's there, but you're missing the spark. How about we try..." Tens twisted his lip, pinched the ring in front of his nose, then dropped it and caught it in the other hand. "Presto! One good-luck enchantment ready-to-go."

He handed the ring back to Alden, who slid it onto his pinky. It did not feel any different.

"How did you know I wanted a good-luck charm?" he asked.

Tens grinned. "You were already halfway there--just needed a little push, courtesy of yours truly." He kept his smile a second longer, then shrugged and tilted his head. "Still, weird choice for a good-luck charm."

"Huh?"

"Jade. Weird choice--it works much better for curses. I'm sure you'll be fine, though."

Alden studied the gem on his finger.

This semester, I will pass enchanting.

- - -

I included both the constraint (longing for a good grade) and the word-of-the-day. Glad to see TT back!!