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Advice From Me (unrelated to Bland Scripts):
How to Cope With Making Mistakes: Breathing Exercise

Advice to Finding the Ideal Self-Confidence

How I Cope With My Sensitive Ears

Bland Scripts:
Bland Scripts are where I write you a short story including your name and pronouns. You may pick the plot/prompt. This can be used to experiment, or if you're not feeling validated. Everyone is welcomed!

(Please put trigger warnings where applicable for others. I will do anything except the obvious 18+.)"Example:""'Name: Pock .. Pronouns: kit/kits, they/them .. Prompt: Opening a door... but dramatic'" ''Pock was ready; kit had been planning this for years. Kits' whole life was dedicated to this one thing:''

Opening that door.

''Pock walked down the hall to where the door rested. The hallway wasn't long - no, if anything it was the shortest hallway kit walked - but the journey here had left Pock weak and tired. But, alas, kit had finally arrived to the door. It was a wooden door, its cracks and chips showing its age. Pock took a deep breath. They were ready. They were ready.''

Slowly, oh so slowly, Pock raised kits hand...

''The door was open. Pock ran.''

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-Responses delayed a few days.

Post 3
{| class="mw-collapsible fandom-table" !@ !Triggers !Story !Side Notes

@PrinceLuci

 * x
 * Ezra stepped on the stage, the queen and king seated across the room from xem. Void shook, eyes rapidly flicking back and forth between the two intimidating monarchs.

"Ezra," the king spoke. Glitch flinched. "We have called you here today, hoping you'd take our offer graciously."

Lunar looked around to the other people in the castle, rubbing clouds arm awkwardly as xe waited for what the two had planned for gem.

"You, Ezra," the queen announced this time, "have been decided by us to now be prince. We already see you as our son, and would love for you to help rule this kingdom."

Ezra blinked in surprise, sirens arm pausing its movement.

A prince walked up to him, a sword in their hand. Xe giggled excitedly, now, and tried to keep glitch hands at its sides.

"Yes, yes, I am willing. Yes."

The monarchs nodded, ushering the knight on.

With a tap to each of its shoulders, he was pronounced Prince of the Fpoons.

@Toothgap

 * x
 * Noelle breathed in the smell of raw flour, the wheat field expanding out as far as his eyes could see. She held a book in their fingers, careful with each page turn in order to not crinkle the paper. Grim walked as they read, her feet moving of their own accord through the elegant rows, arms occasionally brushing along a stray branch. The book he was reading was an array of Edgar Allen Poe poetry, a common opus Noelle would find themself reading. Even as the sky turned a deep black, Grim stayed in the field, all cares and worries whisked away in the summer wind.
 * }
 * }