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#don't try this at home
incorrectbatfam · 4 months
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Cassandra: Life hack: if you fight the UPS guy and win, you get to keep all the packages in the truck.
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"Name that drug... that's making me kiss everyone"
Steve-O: Don't Try This at Home - The Career Ender
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patrothestupid · 4 months
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keeping your head down
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kayime · 11 months
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oops..already doin legal business dey said
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freshmoviequotes · 11 months
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A Good Person (2023)
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writergeekrhw · 7 months
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hi!! i'm sorry if you've gotten similar questions before, but i'm very curious. i've thought about going into writing for television but i don't know where to start, and i also don't want to cross picket lines/scab. do you have any advice?
Well, picket lines aren't a problem anymore, so...
Learn - Watch your favorite shows and movies. Break them down into structure. You can outline as you watch. Scene, Time of Day, Actions, Who Says What. Read great books, consider taking a class on TV writing at someplace reputable online (UCLA Extension is really good). Read about basic screenplay structure and format.
Write - Write the following: 2 spec pilots, 1 episode of an established show that's currently on the air. Maybe a feature. (You probably should buy Final Draft at this point)
Apply for programs: There are studio writing programs that train writers. Getting into one of these can definitely help. Here's a list: Fellowship & Writing Programs for Screenwriters Masterlist — The Writers Guild Foundation (wgfoundation.org)
Keep writing. I had a teacher tell me it took 10 scripts to get good. Have you written 10 full scripts? If no, keep writing. If yes, keep writing.
Consider moving to Los Angeles. Los Angeles is where you can get work as a Writers P.A. or Assistant. That's how you'll get to know writers. It's much harder to do that if you're not in L.A. But also keep in mind that Los Angeles is a very expensive city and you'll probably have to work a civilian job to survive until you get a showbiz one and that it can cost $1500/month just for a room in a shared apartment. So... consider...
Network with peers. Network with fellow aspiring writers you meet in your classes/online/etc. Join a writers group. Be a great person. Help each other. Hopefully you and your peers will all rise together and you'll be able to help each other out once you start getting jobs.
Keep writing. Never stop writing new things.
Rise through the ranks. Hopefully you'll get a Writers P.A. job at some point. Be a good person. Work hard. Make a good impression. Get promoted to either Writers Room Assistant or Showrunner's Assistant. Have a show that goes multiple years. Have your boss (eventually, don't rush it) read your amazing sample which she'll hopefully love. Get a script assignment in a later season. Write an amazing script. Have show go ANOTHER season, get promoted to Staff Writer. CONGRATULATIONS! You've made it.
Keep going. You need to continue to get promoted and staffed for multiple seasons to have a stable career and even then, it'll never stop being a hustle.
ALTERNATIVE PATH: Write the most amazing novel/play/youtube thing/graphic novel/podcast ever and have that optioned into a series and insist on being on staff as a condition of sale.
WARNING: Results are not guaranteed. The odds are NOT in your favor. Try at own risk. Los Angeles is expensive and breaks people. It can take 5-10 years from first script to first job. Or never. Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here. Objects in the Rearview Mirror are Farther Away Than They Appear. Read about Survivorship Bias before taking any showbiz advice from anyone.
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anticomedygarden · 1 year
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wolf
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tw: blood and injury
sequel
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"Fuck, fuck, motherfucking christ, jesus, fuck," Sirius muttered as he tore off his steaming shirt and pants and tried to ignore the frankly disturbing sounds coming from outside.
The young man had just gotten home after a 16-hour shift at the hospital, and he was not in the fucking mood. As soon as he'd gotten home, he sped through a shower, changed into pajamas, and heated up some leftover soup James had sent with him last weekend, and all he wanted was to eat and watch some mindless TV, and that was exactly what he had been about to do, at least until something made a loud crashing sound outside, and he flinched so badly that he spilled his hot soup all over himself. 
Now his thighs and stomach were burning, his clothes were unwearable, the couch was ruined, there was soup everywhere, and some-animal-or something was probably dying from blunt force trauma in his front yard. Fuck.
He sighed and walked into the laundry room. Doctors didn’t need sleep, right?
Once he found a shirt and old football shorts good enough for his own front yard at 5:30 in the morning on a Wednesday, the strange noises had mostly stopped, and Sirius deemed it safe enough to venture outside. After all, if he didn't, one of his neighbors would, and that could only result in a call from the commonhold.
Walking toward the front door, he wondered idly if the sun was out yet. As an ER doctor who often worked overtime, he missed the sunrise and sunset most days, and his thick curtains rarely let any light in, a so far unsuccessful strategy to combat his insomnia.
The sun was not out. It was dark as fuck. He tripped on a rock.
"I hope you're happy with yourself," he muttered, even as he clearly saw absolutely nothing in the yard. Groaning, he walked around to the side of the house and stopped short.
There was trash everywhere. The garbage bins were completely overturned, old food was strewn across the lawn, and the bin lids had rolled into the neighbor's property. Christ, this would take hours to clean up.
Just as he was setting the lids back on his side of the property line, he heard a thud and a low moan.
With one last mournful look at his front door, Sirius traipsed into the backyard, and got his third shock of the morning.
A massive grey wolf was laying sprawled out in his bushes, blood from a dozen wounds leaking sluggishly into the dirt. Immediately, Sirius snapped into ER mode. 
First, he ran his hand along the inside of the animal’s inner thigh until he found a pulse - slow, but definitely there. Then, he checked quickly for any head, neck, or back injuries, and finding none, carefully lifted the thing in his arms, wincing at the feeling of blood on his bare skin. He stumbled to the back door, staggering under the weight of the easily 200 lb canine. The door swung open easily which meant he forgot to lock it again, but within two minutes, Sirius was setting the wolf down on the cement floor of his basement. 
Next, he ran upstairs and grabbed his emergency medical bag and ran back downstairs, then ran back upstairs when he remembered that wounds on dogs should be cleaned with water, not disinfectant, and got several wet towels. 
When he made it back downstairs, he quickly knelt and started taking stock of the injuries. They all seemed to be surface level claw marks with what looked like large bite marks here and there, nothing deep but several long and still bleeding. 
“All right, bud, I’m gonna start cleaning some of these scratches,” Sirius told the dog, a habit he’d picked from one of his instructors. The wolf didn’t give any sign of awareness, not even when he touched the wet cloth to the biggest scratch on the animal’s back. “Something really got you good, huh, buddy?” 
He continued cleaning the wounds and eventually moved onto bandages until the wolf’s whole abdomen as well as a hind leg were all wrapped up. Sirius would still have to get the animal seen by a vet, but for now, it would do. 
He moved to stand but stopped when the wolf gave an absolutely pitiful whine and turned its snout toward Sirius. It whined again. 
“Hey, buddy,” he whispered, rubbing the animal behind the ears. “Good morning.”
Suddenly, the animal’s eyes opened wide, revealing beautiful amber orbs, and the thing fucking screamed. Horrified, Sirius fell backward, and there was nothing he could do but watch as the wolf writhed on the floor, and, as if that wasn’t enough, its fur started disappearing, pulled back into what looked like golden-tan human skin. The elongated snout retreated to form a normal human nose, the ears shrank, leading into matted light brown curls, and the clawed paws turned into human hands, stained with blood, and then Sirius was looking at a fully grown human man. 
“What the fuck?”
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word count: 843 @wolfstarmicrofic
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jadeleechsupportgroup · 7 months
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I spent so much time on this and I can't stop crying at the arms
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beardedmrbean · 1 year
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Look at the friendly puppy, somebody get the baby a milk bone
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murder0fcrow · 1 month
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Get a tattoo of your partner's name over your dick this has multiple reasons
1. "I dont see you name on him" it's there alright
2. Kinda cute
3. labeling what's their's exclusively
4 . If you break up they are right beside what they are
(Please don't actually indulge my fever induced shitpost)
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Sheogorath: Stuck in a rut?
Sheogorath: Put a Q-tip all the way in your ear for a factory reset.
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incorrectbatfam · 7 days
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Cassandra: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.
Stephanie: Next time you're working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex's house down. You can do it. I believe in you.
Duke: There were so many mixed messages in that.
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mx-loar-tev · 10 months
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Soooo...
I might be working on a mini comic about SuperCorp.
It's funny, kinda crack-y, and I'm enjoying making it greatly.
I can't wait to finish it and share it!
Here's a sneak peak!
(Oh and yeah there'll probably be a fic in that universe too. Just need to actually write it.)
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badlywrittenfilth · 11 months
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Currently obsessing over the idea of having a pretty little thing around the house to covertly hypnotize during ordinary domestic duties.
Coming up behind her while she's doing the dishes, slipping my arms around her waist and dropping her gently into trance.
Pulling her in for a spontaneous slow dance while she's vacuuming, she hardly even notices I'm talking as he head nods, dips and comes to rest on my shoulder.
When I finish, I'll take care of her memories; as far as she'd ever remember I was just being sweet, if a little cheesy.
She won't know why my scent is suddenly so intoxicating; was it always like that? She's so embarrassed whenever I catch her hiding some of my dirty clothes, but she just can't stop herself.
She won't know why she keeps catching herself staring at my hands, there's just something compelling about them. How would it they feel around her throat?
She won't know why she's suddenly fantasizing about being bullied. Why she suddenly yearns to be degraded and humiliated, called names and teased.
When she finally breaks down and asks me to hit her, and call her cruel names, to just abuse her, I'll feign shock, and reluctance, but I'll let her convince me - if that's what she really wants.
Before long the game will be up, I'll have let her "turn me into" the monster she doesn't know why she craves.
And I'll never let her forget it. I'll never let her forget she made me this way. It's her fault, and she deserves the consequences.
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Maybe a silly question, but you posted Ed's story and he looks so small in that picture I immediately wondered- how do you open a snake's mouth to feed them like that? Especially if they're that small, maybe it's just because I've never interacted with a snake before but I feel like I'd be so nervous about hurting them ;0;
And he's big in that picture compared to how he was when I needed to open his mouth, too. His head wasn't even the size of your thumbnail at the time.
You have to be so, so careful, and I've gotta add here to never, ever attempt this with a baby snake unless you've been trained in how to do it by a vet because it's so easy to hurt them. Even if you know how, it should always be just a hail-mary option because it can be so stressful for them.
What you do is you have to gently put pressure on the sides of their mouth until they have to open their mouth a little, and then you get something in there to open it the rest of the way. With snakes who are a bit bigger, popsicle sticks work well to hold their mouths open, but Eddie was so small I had to use a credit card. It's incredibly delicate and you have to know exactly how much pressure to use and how to restrain them so you don't hurt them, I've been doing this for a long time but it still makes me nervous!
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julien5-malfunction · 2 months
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So! There is this item in a game called Pathologic 2, called "Shmowder".
It cures the player of the plague, but reduces the health to 10% of what it was.
Which I haven't played myself but I enjoy watching videos about it
I kinda wanna give Shmowder a try.
I have like 5 diffirent antidepressants and anti psychotic medicine lying around the house, along with some ibumax, postafen, random allergy meds, melatonin and active charcoal, I wonder if they end up working like the pills in Fran Bow?
Fran Bow is another video game about a little girl who ends up in the asylym and is given a bottle of medicine but the pills make her see all sorts of terrifying shit and weird creatures.
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