Here's my story! Let me know if you think it needs any editing or anything.

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a small kingdom, caught between the ocean and a large mountain range. It was ruled by a kind king, who had four daughters. The kingdom was happy for the most part, but a fearsome dragon had moved into a cave on the only safe road out of the kingdom. People from neighboring countries were too afraid to trade with the kingdom, afraid that they’d be killed trying to get through the pass.
And so, after a hard winter, the kingdom began to starve. Knight after knight, famous hero after famous hero tried to slay the dragon, but few ever returned. They had little seed after they ate it during the winter, so even after the early harvest, there was barely food to go around.
So Violet, the youngest daughter of the king, snuck out one day in early summer, to try and move the dragon. She brought only her bow, ten arrows, and a blanket. She needed to bring as little supplies as possible, to save as much as she could for her people.
She followed the road, hidden among the trees, up until she finally reached the huge cave that the dragon lived in. She soon realized that although the dragon was asleep, it could wake up and kill her in an instant. She hunted for a while until she caught a wild boar. She started cleaning it, a little ways away from the entrance to the cave. She had almost completely cleaned it when the dragon got up and stretched lazily. It’s stomach lets out a terrible growl, shaking the ground that Violet sat on. She does her best to ignore the dragon, continuing to clean the pig.
The dragon spots her, suddenly shifting to protect the entrance to the cave. “Who are you, little human?”
“My name is Violet,” she answers calmly.
“Really…” The dragon hisses between her teeth, her fangs glistening. “And what do you want?”
“To sit,” Violet hums. “To clean this pig, so I can cook and eat it.”
The dragon lets out a growl, or maybe it’s her stomach. “Give me that.”
“Only on one condition,” says the little princess, not taking her eyes off of the pig.
“What would that be?” The dragon snorts, smoke shooting out of her nose.
Violet fans the smoke away. “You have to move away from the road, and stop scaring all of those traders trying to go in and out of the kingdom.”
The dragon pauses. “No. This cave is the perfect size for me, and I’m not about to move everything, my gold, my eggs, just for some little pig. Besides, all of the good parts have been taken out.”
“What if we offered you gold? We have lots of gold…” Violet hums. “And we could make you a new home, there’s an abandoned mine in the hills near the castle. You’d be hidden if you want, but close to the castle in case you’re feeling social.”
“How do I know this isn’t a trick? You could be leading me to my death!” The dragon snarls, stretching her wings out.
“Oh, no. Trust me, there’s no trap.” Violet pauses. “There’s a legend that dragons can tell when someone is lying. If that’s true, then you know that I cannot lie to you. I promise you this, there is no trap waiting for you.”
The dragon hesitates, searching the young girl’s expression. “The men who sent you, they may have told you there was no trap, but are setting one as we speak.”
“No one sent me,” Violet replied. “No one knows that I’m here.” She gets down on her knees, looking up at the huge, red dragon. “Please, mighty dragon. Please move away from the road, and stop eating the traders. My people are starving, and if you won’t move, then there is no hope for any of us. I beg you, please trust me, and move away.”
The dragon dips her head to the small girl. “Fine. But, if I sense any sort of treachery, I will not hesitate to bring the castle down on your heads.”
“Oh, thank you,” the little girl cries. “Our kingdom is forever in your debt. Thank you, thank you!”
Violet brought the dragon back home, and after explaining it to her father, she helped the dragon move into the mine. The townspeople, overjoyed, brought food and other gifts to the dragon. Most gifts were useless to her, but she appreciated the thought.
A hundred years later, long after Violet had died, children (and even some adults!) were still telling the story of how she had convinced the fearful dragon to move. There are many different versions, no two stories exactly alike. But they all have the same outcome. Princess Violet, the youngest of four princesses, befriends a dragon and saves her kingdom.

THE END

Hey, can I be a project reviewer?

BonnieCat91 wrote:

Here's my story! Let me know if you think it needs any editing or anything.

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a small kingdom, caught between the ocean and a large mountain range. It was ruled by a kind king, who had four daughters. The kingdom was happy for the most part, but a fearsome dragon had moved into a cave on the only safe road out of the kingdom. People from neighboring countries were too afraid to trade with the kingdom, afraid that they’d be killed trying to get through the pass.
And so, after a hard winter, the kingdom began to starve. Knight after knight, famous hero after famous hero tried to slay the dragon, but few ever returned. They had little seed after they ate it during the winter, so even after the early harvest, there was barely food to go around.
So Violet, the youngest daughter of the king, snuck out one day in early summer, to try and move the dragon. She brought only her bow, ten arrows, and a blanket. She needed to bring as little supplies as possible, to save as much as she could for her people.
She followed the road, hidden among the trees, up until she finally reached the huge cave that the dragon lived in. She soon realized that although the dragon was asleep, it could wake up and kill her in an instant. She hunted for a while until she caught a wild boar. She started cleaning it, a little ways away from the entrance to the cave. She had almost completely cleaned it when the dragon got up and stretched lazily. It’s stomach lets out a terrible growl, shaking the ground that Violet sat on. She does her best to ignore the dragon, continuing to clean the pig.
The dragon spots her, suddenly shifting to protect the entrance to the cave. “Who are you, little human?”
“My name is Violet,” she answers calmly.
“Really…” The dragon hisses between her teeth, her fangs glistening. “And what do you want?”
“To sit,” Violet hums. “To clean this pig, so I can cook and eat it.”
The dragon lets out a growl, or maybe it’s her stomach. “Give me that.”
“Only on one condition,” says the little princess, not taking her eyes off of the pig.
“What would that be?” The dragon snorts, smoke shooting out of her nose.
Violet fans the smoke away. “You have to move away from the road, and stop scaring all of those traders trying to go in and out of the kingdom.”
The dragon pauses. “No. This cave is the perfect size for me, and I’m not about to move everything, my gold, my eggs, just for some little pig. Besides, all of the good parts have been taken out.”
“What if we offered you gold? We have lots of gold…” Violet hums. “And we could make you a new home, there’s an abandoned mine in the hills near the castle. You’d be hidden if you want, but close to the castle in case you’re feeling social.”
“How do I know this isn’t a trick? You could be leading me to my death!” The dragon snarls, stretching her wings out.
“Oh, no. Trust me, there’s no trap.” Violet pauses. “There’s a legend that dragons can tell when someone is lying. If that’s true, then you know that I cannot lie to you. I promise you this, there is no trap waiting for you.”
The dragon hesitates, searching the young girl’s expression. “The men who sent you, they may have told you there was no trap, but are setting one as we speak.”
“No one sent me,” Violet replied. “No one knows that I’m here.” She gets down on her knees, looking up at the huge, red dragon. “Please, mighty dragon. Please move away from the road, and stop eating the traders. My people are starving, and if you won’t move, then there is no hope for any of us. I beg you, please trust me, and move away.”
The dragon dips her head to the small girl. “Fine. But, if I sense any sort of treachery, I will not hesitate to bring the castle down on your heads.”
“Oh, thank you,” the little girl cries. “Our kingdom is forever in your debt. Thank you, thank you!”
Violet brought the dragon back home, and after explaining it to her father, she helped the dragon move into the mine. The townspeople, overjoyed, brought food and other gifts to the dragon. Most gifts were useless to her, but she appreciated the thought.
A hundred years later, long after Violet had died, children (and even some adults!) were still telling the story of how she had convinced the fearful dragon to move. There are many different versions, no two stories exactly alike. But they all have the same outcome. Princess Violet, the youngest of four princesses, befriends a dragon and saves her kingdom.

THE END

Really good! I'll add it to the newspaper as soon as I can.

LittleBitMore wrote:

Hey, can I be a project reviewer?

Sure

ajsya wrote:

BonnieCat91 wrote:

-snip-

Really good! I'll add it to the newspaper as soon as I can.

Thanks!

BonnieCat91 wrote:

Here's my story! Let me know if you think it needs any editing or anything.

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a small kingdom, caught between the ocean and a large mountain range. It was ruled by a kind king, who had four daughters. The kingdom was happy for the most part, but a fearsome dragon had moved into a cave on the only safe road out of the kingdom. People from neighboring countries were too afraid to trade with the kingdom, afraid that they’d be killed trying to get through the pass.
And so, after a hard winter, the kingdom began to starve. Knight after knight, famous hero after famous hero tried to slay the dragon, but few ever returned. They had little seed after they ate it during the winter, so even after the early harvest, there was barely food to go around.
So Violet, the youngest daughter of the king, snuck out one day in early summer, to try and move the dragon. She brought only her bow, ten arrows, and a blanket. She needed to bring as little supplies as possible, to save as much as she could for her people.
She followed the road, hidden among the trees, up until she finally reached the huge cave that the dragon lived in. She soon realized that although the dragon was asleep, it could wake up and kill her in an instant. She hunted for a while until she caught a wild boar. She started cleaning it, a little ways away from the entrance to the cave. She had almost completely cleaned it when the dragon got up and stretched lazily. It’s stomach lets out a terrible growl, shaking the ground that Violet sat on. She does her best to ignore the dragon, continuing to clean the pig.
The dragon spots her, suddenly shifting to protect the entrance to the cave. “Who are you, little human?”
“My name is Violet,” she answers calmly.
“Really…” The dragon hisses between her teeth, her fangs glistening. “And what do you want?”
“To sit,” Violet hums. “To clean this pig, so I can cook and eat it.”
The dragon lets out a growl, or maybe it’s her stomach. “Give me that.”
“Only on one condition,” says the little princess, not taking her eyes off of the pig.
“What would that be?” The dragon snorts, smoke shooting out of her nose.
Violet fans the smoke away. “You have to move away from the road, and stop scaring all of those traders trying to go in and out of the kingdom.”
The dragon pauses. “No. This cave is the perfect size for me, and I’m not about to move everything, my gold, my eggs, just for some little pig. Besides, all of the good parts have been taken out.”
“What if we offered you gold? We have lots of gold…” Violet hums. “And we could make you a new home, there’s an abandoned mine in the hills near the castle. You’d be hidden if you want, but close to the castle in case you’re feeling social.”
“How do I know this isn’t a trick? You could be leading me to my death!” The dragon snarls, stretching her wings out.
“Oh, no. Trust me, there’s no trap.” Violet pauses. “There’s a legend that dragons can tell when someone is lying. If that’s true, then you know that I cannot lie to you. I promise you this, there is no trap waiting for you.”
The dragon hesitates, searching the young girl’s expression. “The men who sent you, they may have told you there was no trap, but are setting one as we speak.”
“No one sent me,” Violet replied. “No one knows that I’m here.” She gets down on her knees, looking up at the huge, red dragon. “Please, mighty dragon. Please move away from the road, and stop eating the traders. My people are starving, and if you won’t move, then there is no hope for any of us. I beg you, please trust me, and move away.”
The dragon dips her head to the small girl. “Fine. But, if I sense any sort of treachery, I will not hesitate to bring the castle down on your heads.”
“Oh, thank you,” the little girl cries. “Our kingdom is forever in your debt. Thank you, thank you!”
Violet brought the dragon back home, and after explaining it to her father, she helped the dragon move into the mine. The townspeople, overjoyed, brought food and other gifts to the dragon. Most gifts were useless to her, but she appreciated the thought.
A hundred years later, long after Violet had died, children (and even some adults!) were still telling the story of how she had convinced the fearful dragon to move. There are many different versions, no two stories exactly alike. But they all have the same outcome. Princess Violet, the youngest of four princesses, befriends a dragon and saves her kingdom.

THE END

I like the story! its cool.

Can I make a story that I already wrote? I write stories in real life. Here it is:



Once upon a time, there lived three turkeys. Their names were meg, Jason, and Hillary. One day, Jason heard that the special turkey had a special privilege. When he told the others, Meg said that SHE was probably the special turkey. Hillary then said SHE was the special turkey. They began to fight. Jason then said that they would have a contest. The winner of the contests would be the special turkey. They all agreed. That night, Hillary heard that the special turkey was going to be COOKED! She told the others and they made a plan. The next day, there were the races. First was the jumping contest. next was the running contest. The turkeys passed their medals, jumped over the fence, and ran away in the sunset. And the farmer and his wife had chicken soup for dinner.



The end

P.S. do you think the chickens had a fun time?

BonnieCat91 wrote:

ajsya wrote:

BonnieCat91 wrote:

-snip-

Really good! I'll add it to the newspaper as soon as I can.

Thanks!

You're welcome!

LittleBitMore wrote:

Hey, can I be a project reviewer?

By the way, you don't have to submit this month because you signed up so late.

Fronztess123 wrote:

Can I make a story that I already wrote? I write stories in real life. Here it is:

Once upon a time, there lived three turkeys. Their names were meg, jason, and hillary. One day, jason heard that the special turkey had a special privilege. When he told the others, meg said that SHE was probably the special turkey. Hillary then said SHE was the special turkey. They began to fight. Jason then said that they would have a contest. The winner of the contests would be the special turkey. They all agreed. That night, Hillary heard that the special turkey was going to be COOKED! She told the others and they made a plan. The next day, there were the races. First was the jumping contest. next was the running contest. the turkeys passed their medals, jumped over the fence, and ran away in the sunset. And the farmer and his wife had chicken soup for dinner.

The end

P.S. do you think the chickens had a fun time?

I have some questions for you,

1. Do you want that published in the newspaper?
2. You should capitalize names.
3. Why does it say chickens at the end when they were turkey?

ajsya wrote:

BonnieCat91 wrote:

ajsya wrote:

BonnieCat91 wrote:

-snip-

Really good! I'll add it to the newspaper as soon as I can.

Thanks!

You're welcome!

LittleBitMore wrote:

Hey, can I be a project reviewer?

By the way, you don't have to submit this month because you signed up so late.

Fronztess123 wrote:

Can I make a story that I already wrote? I write stories in real life. Here it is:

Once upon a time, there lived three turkeys. Their names were Meg, Jason, and Hillary. One day, Jason heard that the special turkey had a special privilege. When he told the others, Meg said that SHE was probably the special turkey. Hillary then said SHE was the special turkey. They began to fight. Jason then said that they would have a contest. The winner of the contests would be the special turkey. They all agreed. That night, Hillary heard that the special turkey was going to be COOKED! She told the others and they made a plan. The next day, there were the races. First was the jumping contest. next was the running contest. the turkeys passed their medals, jumped over the fence, and ran away in the sunset. And the farmer and his wife had chicken soup for dinner instead.

The end

P.S. do you think the chickens had a fun time?

I have some questions for you,

1. Do you want that published in the newspaper?
2. You should capitalize names.
3. Why does it say chickens at the end when they were turkey?

I do want it published in the newspaper
I will fix the errors
Because it says “And the farmer and his wife had chicken soup for dinner”. Do you think the chickens had a good time being eaten?

P.S. I can write more stories soon.

Hoping this will be published, Fronztess123

Fronztess123 wrote:

I do want it published in the newspaper
I will fix the errors
Because it says “And the farmer and his wife had chicken soup for dinner”. Do you think the chickens had a good time being eaten?

P.S. I can write more stories soon.

Hoping this will be published, Fronztess123

Fix the grammar errors and I'll put it in the newspaper.

ajsya wrote:

Fronztess123 wrote:

I do want it published in the newspaper
I will fix the errors
Because it says “And the farmer and his wife had chicken soup for dinner”. Do you think the chickens had a good time being eaten?

P.S. I can write more stories soon.

Hoping this will be published, Fronztess123

Fix the grammar errors and I'll put it in the newspaper.

I fixed em

Fronztess123 wrote:

ajsya wrote:

Fronztess123 wrote:

I do want it published in the newspaper
I will fix the errors
Because it says “And the farmer and his wife had chicken soup for dinner”. Do you think the chickens had a good time being eaten?

P.S. I can write more stories soon.

Hoping this will be published, Fronztess123

Fix the grammar errors and I'll put it in the newspaper.

I fixed em

No, you didn't

Any ideas for ads?

Coder_Annika wrote:

Any ideas for ads?

No Ideas

Hello! Here's my contribution to the newspaper, the Dreams and Fantasies column. Sorry it took so long; I took a long time deciding which story to write.
The Dreams and Fantasies Column
Did you know?
White cats with blue eyes have a certain gene that makes them more susceptible to becoming deaf than other cats.
Riddle of the Month
Q: What is the bookworm's favorite kind of berry?
A: Li-berries! (as in li-braries)
The Shadow of Morgul Garth: Part One
Based on a nightmare experienced after reading Lauren Oliver's The Spindlers for the fifth time.
Miricle Benereson had lost her mother at the age of one day, as well as her older brother, who had been seven at the time. Since then, the only family she had known was her father, a tall, muscular man of about thirty, her uncle, a shy, nervous thing who was also incredibly loyal, and her aunt. Her aunt was something. She was the only one who kept Miricle from feeling the loss too deeply, by stepping in and trying to act like her sister-in-law had acted.
Miricle had no human friends. She had inherited her uncle's shyness and had no wish for the company of girls her age. Instead, her best friend was a slinky orange tabby shorthair named Elcirim, the most magical name she could think of. They spent quite a lot of time together, and Elcirim seemed to always know just when Miricle needed a cuddle.
Occasionally Miricle would go up and ask her father why, exactly, he had named her Miricle.
“Because you escaped your mother's death,” Mr. Benereson always replied.
"But what was my mother's death?" she'd ask. And then her uncle would always find her something to do to distract her from the question.
After some drama involving a question of this sort, Miricle ran up to her room and locked the door behind her. Being worried, her uncle took a ladder and leaned it against the side of the house, hoping to check if she was okay by looking through her window. Almost as soon as he had reached the top rung, a bolt of lightning flashed across the gray sky (it had been raining that day) and suddenly Mr. Dovemoon no longer saw Miricle hunched up on her bed but a black hand, with long, curved fingers like spider's legs, reaching towards a cowering woman and a frightened little boy huddled in a corner. Then the vision faded, and the uncle, shocked by what he had seen, nearly broke his head by falling off of the ladder.
Soon Miricle turned eight, the age where most rich families send their children off to boarding school. The night before she was to depart Miricle had the strangest dream. She was standing in an ordinary-looking hallway, watching files of students pass by her. One of them turned and handed her a book, and she flipped it open, not really knowing why. She paused at a picture of a woman, the ugliest woman she had ever seen. If witches were teachers, she found herself thinking, this is what they would look like! The page turned, and dark red scribbles formed on the blank paper. This woman is a servant of
Miricle woke before she could see the last word. Packing the last of her bags, she tried to focus less on the strange dream and more on spending quality time with Elcirim before she had to say goodbye to him for eight months. But she couldn't quite ignore the nagging feeling that something wasn't going to be right.
The woman who welcomed her to school was the exact same woman who had been in her dream.
Miricle was beginning to think she was psychic.
She was so troubled by her strange dream that she spent hours every day thinking about it instead of paying attention in class, which made it so that she got an F on her math test. She was sent to talk to the woman from her dream, whose name was Ms. Garth. Stepping into her office, she noticed that the walls were lined entirely with bookcases filled with books. Anybody who liked books that much couldn't possibly be that bad.
“Goodmorning,” Ms. Garth greeted her, smiling a huge, ugly grin. “I suppose you're here to write that essay on why we learn math.”
“I- uh, I suppose so, Ms. Garth.”
“Good”, said Ms. Garth pleasantly, sliding her a piece of paper and a newly-sharpened pencil. “Now you can just…” She frowned, and checked her watch. “You know what? I might have you write your essay in there.” She pointed to a fairly large closet at the other end of the room. “It's got a lamp and a writing desk. Run along, dear, and lock the door behind you.”
Weirded out, Miricle chose to obey the strange teacher's orders, wondering what would happen to her if she didn't. Once safely inside, she spread herself out on her stomach and peered underneath the door. Was Ms. Garth doing something to the bookshelves? Yes, she was. She was taking all the books off of a shelf. The bookcase didn't have a back; that was strange. Then Miricle saw something that made her heart pound with fear. Five long, black fingers with needle-sharp ends were reaching out of the shelf.
Her heart stood still, and Miricle fainted.
To be continued…

CattyCodes wrote:

Hello! Here's my contribution to the newspaper, the Dreams and Fantasies column. Sorry it took so long; I took a long time deciding which story to write.

~Snip~

No, it's okay, you still had 3 more days left before the deadline

CattyCodes wrote:

The Dreams and Fantasies Column
Did you know?
White cats with blue eyes have a certain gene that makes them more susceptible to becoming deaf than other cats.

Riddle of the Month
Q: What is the bookworm's favorite kind of berry?
A: Li-berries! (as in li-braries)

The Shadow of Morgul Garth: Part One
Based on a nightmare experienced after reading Lauren Oliver's The Spindlers for the fifth time.

Miricle Benereson had lost her mother at the age of one day, as well as her older brother, who had been seven at the time. Since then, the only family she had known was her father, a tall, muscular man of about thirty, her uncle, a shy, nervous thing who was also incredibly loyal, and her aunt. Her aunt was something. She was the only one who kept Miricle from feeling the loss too deeply, by stepping in and trying to act like her sister-in-law had acted.
Miricle had no human friends. She had inherited her uncle's shyness and had no wish for the company of girls her age. Instead, her best friend was a slinky orange tabby shorthair named Elcirim, the most magical name she could think of. They spent quite a lot of time together, and Elcirim seemed to always know just when Miricle needed a cuddle.
Occasionally Miricle would go up and ask her father why, exactly, he had named her Miricle.
“Because you escaped your mother's death,” Mr. Benereson always replied.
"But what was my mother's death?" she'd ask. And then her uncle would always find her something to do to distract her from the question.
After some drama involving a question of this sort, Miricle ran up to her room and locked the door behind her. Being worried, her uncle took a ladder and leaned it against the side of the house, hoping to check if she was okay by looking through her window. Almost as soon as he had reached the top rung, a bolt of lightning flashed across the gray sky (it had been raining that day) and suddenly Mr. Dovemoon no longer saw Miricle hunched up on her bed but a black hand, with long, curved fingers like spider's legs, reaching towards a cowering woman and a frightened little boy huddled in a corner. Then the vision faded, and the uncle, shocked by what he had seen, nearly broke his head by falling off of the ladder.
Soon Miricle turned eight, the age where most rich families send their children off to boarding school. The night before she was to depart Miricle had the strangest dream. She was standing in an ordinary-looking hallway, watching files of students pass by her. One of them turned and handed her a book, and she flipped it open, not really knowing why. She paused at a picture of a woman, the ugliest woman she had ever seen. If witches were teachers, she found herself thinking, this is what they would look like! The page turned, and dark red scribbles formed on the blank paper. This woman is a servant of
Miricle woke before she could see the last word. Packing the last of her bags, she tried to focus less on the strange dream and more on spending quality time with Elcirim before she had to say goodbye to him for eight months. But she couldn't quite ignore the nagging feeling that something wasn't going to be right.
The woman who welcomed her to school was the exact same woman who had been in her dream.
Miricle was beginning to think she was psychic.
She was so troubled by her strange dream that she spent hours every day thinking about it instead of paying attention in class, which made it so that she got an F on her math test. She was sent to talk to the woman from her dream, whose name was Ms. Garth. Stepping into her office, she noticed that the walls were lined entirely with bookcases filled with books. Anybody who liked books that much couldn't possibly be that bad.
“Goodmorning,” Ms. Garth greeted her, smiling a huge, ugly grin. “I suppose you're here to write that essay on why we learn math.”
“I- uh, I suppose so, Ms. Garth.”
“Good”, said Ms. Garth pleasantly, sliding her a piece of paper and a newly-sharpened pencil. “Now you can just…” She frowned, and checked her watch. “You know what? I might have you write your essay in there.” She pointed to a fairly large closet at the other end of the room. “It's got a lamp and a writing desk. Run along, dear, and lock the door behind you.”
Weirded out, Miricle chose to obey the strange teacher's orders, wondering what would happen to her if she didn't. Once safely inside, she spread herself out on her stomach and peered underneath the door. Was Ms. Garth doing something to the bookshelves? Yes, she was. She was taking all the books off of a shelf. The bookcase didn't have a back; that was strange. Then Miricle saw something that made her heart pound with fear. Five long, black fingers with needle-sharp ends were reaching out of the shelf.
Her heart stood still, and Miricle fainted.
To be continued…

(Article Insurance)

ajsya wrote:

Fronztess123 wrote:

Can I join if I'm already not in?

What do you want to do?

I can write stories

ajsya wrote:

Coder_Annika wrote:

Any ideas for ads?

No Ideas

What about advitising our shop?

Fronztess123 wrote:

ajsya wrote:

Coder_Annika wrote:

Any ideas for ads?

No Ideas

What about advitising our shop?

And maybe a sale at here: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/7842765

Fronztess123 wrote:

ajsya wrote:

Fronztess123 wrote:

Can I join if I'm already not in?

What do you want to do?

I can write stories

Okay I'll add you

Fronztess123 wrote:

ajsya wrote:

Coder_Annika wrote:

Any ideas for ads?

No Ideas

What about advitising our shop?

Already did that, remember. She means new Ideas

Fronztess123 wrote:

Fronztess123 wrote:

ajsya wrote:

Coder_Annika wrote:

Any ideas for ads?

No Ideas

What about advitising our shop?

And maybe a sale at here: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/7842765

What's the sale? That doesn't really look like a shop.

Also, try not to post so many different posts, you can combine them like I did here.