#Random Writing Preview

[lala-the-rebel]

I've been wanting to post another snippet but since I'm indecisive, I thought of a different idea

Soooooo...if i posted a link to the first two chapters of my gravity falls fic that I've been working on, would any of y'all be interested in that? :3

[fireandspiceland]

it’s horny hours I guess 👀 nyo america x pirate england. oral sex/pussy eating, nothing else really. it’s 3am I just wrote this on my phone I’m not going to proof read it now, pls just take it <3

A melodic giggle filled the captain’s quarters while the sea rocked the ship in just the right rhythm to match his hands cradling, squeezing soft breasts. A gasp when he flicked his tongue over her nipple, another giggle when he cruised further down, golden necklaces and the hem of his open shirt ticking her hot skin for a second before it‘s soothed in one kiss after another.

“Arthur.. you’re su-“

“‘t’s captain Kirkland to you.”

His voice a murmur against her hip, Amelia giggled again but it melted into a soft moan when her legs were pushed apart and Arthur’s rigid breath grazed the inside of her thigh.

“Captain…,” she exhaled, unsure what it was that she had been wanting to say. Couldn’t be more important than watching Arthur settle down at his destination anyway.

A sliver of green sparkled at Amelia from Arthur’s half-lidded eyes. The corner of his lip curled into a smirk. There wasn’t much that he loved more than a fine lass like Amelia in his bed, naked as the day she was born yet in a position devoid of all innocence.

“Let me have you.”

Not a question. Barely a request. The demand made Amelia squirm, though not in an attempt to flee from Arthur, his quarters, his ship, but to hide the flush embarrassing her skin and the excited anticipation gushing from her lips.

She nodded, but Arthur had already lowered his gaze. Keeping her spread open, his eyes slipped shut as he closed in on her.

A first lick. Amelia gasped, squirmed again as Arthur’s tongue dipped between her labia in a languid stroke.

He spared her a break, though merely a second, drinking in her taste. As much as Arthur loved his treasures and to dwell on them, this one wasn’t for savouring.

He circled his tongue around her clit slowly, teasingly, then sucks on it. Amelia cried out, her hips involuntarily thrusting up from the bed. She would be surprised if none of the men from Arthur’s crew heard her.

Hands shot to Arthur’s head, pulling his hair, yet her fist around his strands of dirty blond pushed downwards to keep him in place.

The pain shooting from his scalp turned into a pleasurable tingle as it crept down Arthur’s back. He smiled into the next open mouthed kiss he placed right at Amelia’s core.

Again and again, he flicked his tongue over her clitoris, sucked and licked at it, lacking finesse after a dry spell lasting longer than he’d hoped for but making up for it in eagerness and passion.

He barely caught a breath every now and then when Amelia had so much mercy, but if Captain Arthur Kirkland was to find his end with his face buried between a gorgeous woman’s legs as she screamed out his name in ecstasy, then so it be.

[midnightwind]

the slow dread of realizing I should probably make a pinned post because most people likely use the mobile layout and thus miss out on my Many Useful Links

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Hooking your Readers

Hook—The first line, lines, or paragraph meant to grab the reader’s attention

For most people, a night out at the movies includes sitting through the coming attractions. We watch these short bursts of scenes that scare us, intrigue us, make us laugh, and sometimes nearly bring us to tears. No matter the preview, though, if it looks good, we want to go see the movie. An effective “hook” in your story works the same way. You want to grab your reader right away and compel them to continue reading.

Some common strategies for creating a hook & examples:

Anecdote: My hands shook and beads of sweat rolled down my face. I double-checked the directions before assembling my tools and turning up the heat. Making lasagna shouldn’t have been this stressful, but in my grandmother’s kitchen, the stakes were a little higher. 

Direct quote: “Be open and use the world around you.” Toni Morrison gives this advice about the craft of writing, but I find that it applies to most areas of my life.

General statement or truth: Every child, no matter how sheltered or well-adjusted, will experience fear. Whether they are scared of the monster under the bed or the neighbor’s barking dog, children experience fear as a normal and healthy part of childhood.

History: On Wednesday, August 28, 1963, thousands traveled to Washington D.C. by road, rail, and air. There were demonstrators of all races, creeds, and genders. Unafraid of the intimidation and violence they faced, they demonstrated for the rights of all. Known as The Great March on Washington, this day marked an important turning point in the Civil Rights Movement in the United States.

Metaphor: Stretched out in a sunbeam, my cat may seem timid, but really, she’s a lion. She will stealthily stalk her prey, attack without mercy, and leave a trail of blood and guts in her wake. Afterward, as she grooms her luxurious mane, she shows no remorse.

Scene or illustration: Shadows stretch across the pavement as jack-o-lanterns flicker in windows. Little trick-or-treaters scamper from porch to porch, filling their bags with various forms of sugar. It is the day dentists dread most: Halloween.

Sensory description: The stale smell of cigarettes engulfed me as I stepped into the dim, silent apartment. The heat had been turned off, so I could see my breath fog in front of me as I carefully stepped over the old pizza boxes, overturned cups, and random pieces of paper strewn across the floor.

Startling statistic or statement: Teenage drivers crash their cars at nearly ten times the rate of older drivers.

More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[justsomeonewriting]

Whispers Of Destiny

                                    CHAPTER ONE

                              Shadows In The Forest

   Fear gripped her heart, its icy tendrils coiling around her with a relentless grip. It consumed her every thought. Death lurked in the shadows, whispering its chilling promises, while the haunting specter of solitude loomed ever closer. The fear of losing those she held dear, the very essence of her being, painted her world in shades of despair. Despite having everything a young girl could ever dream of, she longed for a life brimming with happiness, surrounded by her beloved family. However, the cruel hand of fate had snatched her mother away, leaving behind a void that refused to be filled. Though others claimed her mother to be gone, she clung to a flicker of hope that she yet lived.

Her father, lost in a sea of meetings and responsibilities, had become a mere stranger to her. The absence of a warm embrace, the absence of tender words exchanged, rendered their relationship a barren landscape. Sharing a meal or engaging in heartfelt conversation had become distant memories, fading with each passing day. She found herself alone within the confines of the palace, a princess shackled by the chains of isolation. Every facet of life incited fear within her fragile heart, for she had lost the one person who cared, who nurtured her, the very embodiment of the mother she so desperately craved.

Young princess POV :

As sunlight spilled into my chamber, accompanied by the gentle voice of my loyal maid, Chloe, beckoning me to awaken. I yearned for a world free from formalities, where the weight of my title need not overshadow my true self. "Good morning, Chloe, but please, spare me the formalities. Call me by my name, Layla" I told her, while rising from my slumber. A fond smile graced her lips, reflecting the deep bond we shared. "Of course, Layla, as you wish. Now, prepare yourself for breakfast. His majesty has departed to attend to pressing matters, as important guests are expected today. Once you are ready, come to me, and I shall brush your hair before you join us for the morning repast."

Refusing her kind offer, I protested, realizing the weight of her own duties. "Oh, no, Chloe. I cannot allow you to take on a task I can easily manage myself. Being a princess does not absolve me of personal responsibilities. Besides, you have other pressing matters to attend to. Thank you.” With those words, I witnessed a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Very well, little princess, suit yourself. I shall attend to my other duties then. Have a splendid day," she replied before gracefully exiting my room. Hurriedly, I tidied my bed, refreshed myself with a quick shower, and embarked upon the task of selecting an outfit for the day. Long ago, I had been imparted with wisdom that transcended mere material trappings, reminding me that true nobility resides within.

 I dashed out of my room, eager to indulge in breakfast and venture forth into the world. The grand table greeted me with its solitary presence, a stark reminder of my status as an only child. My father, consumed by his regal duties, remained absent, leaving me to navigate the maze of royalty alone. As the sun cast its golden rays upon the room, I dined in solitude, contemplating the mysteries surrounding my mother's untimely departure, her absence casting a shadow that refused to fade. Despite the murmurs of others, whispering tales of her disappearance, I clung to the hope that she might still be alive, hidden away in some far away land, waiting for the right moment to return to us. It was a belief that sustained me through the darkest nights and the loneliest days.

I finished my breakfast with haste, eager to escape the confines of the palace walls and venture toward the place I truly called home. Without a moment's hesitation, I raced through the grand gates, taking the shortest route available as my feet propelled me forward.

Upon arriving at my cherished destination, I found myself awestruck by its sheer beauty. Nestled amidst the verdant landscape stood a humble cottage. The dwelling, adorned with a small garden, overflowed with a kaleidoscope of vibrant flowers, plants, and vegetables and fruits, intermingled with medicinal herbs. It looked as if it was lifted straight from the pages of a mystical fairytale.

Standing before the cottage's weathered door, a flood of memories overwhelmed me. I recalled my first visit to this enchanting place, when I received the heart-wrenching news of my mother's official departure. Though it had been over a year since her disappearance, an unshakable belief clung to my heart—she still walked among the living. Escaping the confines of the palace, tears teetering at the edge of my eyes, I reminded myself that princesses do not cry. Swiftly, I raced, my breath ragged, until I beheld the cottage once more—and there she was. She, who would forever alter the course of my life. Casting her gaze upon me, she beckoned, urging me to venture into the embrace of her cottage's blooming garden. Unknown to me, a sense of calmness and trust enveloped my soul. Her cascading locks, reaching down to her knees, framed her sun-kissed complexion, while her eyes shimmered like droplets of golden honey. As I approached, she seemed to recognize my royal lineage, harboring no surprise, only warmth in her countenance. "Hello, darling," she greeted, concern lacing her voice, "what brings you here, all alone? The approaching dusk poses a risk, with wild creatures lingering near the forest's edge." Her words, delivered in the sweetest and most nurturing tone I had encountered since my mother's absence, resonated deep within my being.

"Would you care to join me inside? I have just baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies, accompanied by warm milk, sweetened with a touch of honey," she offered. Completing her sentence, she rose gracefully and motioned for me to follow. Crossing the threshold into the cottage, a smell of cinnamon and vanilla tickled my senses. I couldn't help but notice a certain lilt in her accent—an exotic flair that set her apart. It hinted at her origins, perhaps from a distant land like (imaginary country name), as evidenced by the abundance of herbs and the lingering scent of cinnamon.

" Take a seat, my dear. I shall return momentarily," she reassured me, hastening toward the kitchen. I settled into one of the chairs, my eyes exploring the surroundings. In doing so, my gaze fell upon a photograph adorning the wall. There she stood, the woman, alongside a man whom I assumed to be her husband. What struck me was her pregnant form. However, I detected no signs of a child's presence, no trace of toys or the gentle melodies of laughter. Confusion stirred within me, yet I swiftly dismissed the notion, refusing to dwell on such mysteries.

"Here you are, dear. Freshly baked cookies and warm milk, with a drizzle of honey," she declared, presenting the treats. Grateful, I accepted them, yet an unspoken curiosity begged me to inquire her name, rather than merely referring to her as a woman.

"Thank you, ma'am, but may I inquire about your name?" I said, meeting her gaze. A flicker of contemplation passed over her features before comprehension settled upon her.

"Oh, my apologies. I completely forgot to introduce myself. I am (name), hailing from the distant land of (imaginary country name). I arrived here five years ago, which allowed me to master the English language. I also possess a modest command of (imaginary language name) due to my husband's origins in the mesmerizing city of (Imaginary city name)," she disclosed, her voice imbued with a tender sincerity. "Now, it is my turn to inquire. What is such a young princess like you doing venturing alone in this vast expanse?" Her question gave me pause, a momentary hesitation. However, a warmth swelled within my heart, compelling me to reveal the deepest secrets of my soul.

I poured out my tale, my voice trembling as tears threatened to spill forth. Yet, I caught myself in time, mindful of the princess's stoic facade. "Princesses do not cry," I reminded myself sternly. But in that moment, (name) rose from her seat, her arms enveloping me in a solace I hadn't felt in years.

"Release it all, my dear. Shed tears to your heart's content," she whispered tenderly. “Princesses, too, possess the gift of vulnerability. They laugh, they cry, they play—bound by no limitations save respect and consideration for others. Crying is no act of disrespect, for princesses, at their core, are human beings." She spoke with a gentle love that mirrored my mother's affectionate words, shared with me on the eve of her departure—a testament to her unwavering love and commitment. A smile danced upon my lips, mesmerized by that tender moment. The earlier photograph resurfaced in my mind, igniting a surge of curiosity. The urgency to seek answers welled within me, and I posed my question without reservation.

"May I ask, without intending to pry or intrude, about the photograph I glimpsed earlier? I noticed your pregnancy, yet I cannot understand the absence of children nor the presence of the man beside you," I inquired, my words gentle and inquisitive. She nodded, taking a sip of her milk before providing an explanation.

"Dear, it is perfectly acceptable to seek answers, and please, call me (name). Regarding my husband, you see, he was once the exiled king of (name), burdened by his own troubles. At present, he endeavors to secure our son's future, engaging in a quest of paramount importance. Five years ago, while we resided in (imaginary country name), my labor commenced unexpectedly. Fate led me to the steps of the palace, where I gave birth to a baby boy. His hazel eyes, resplendent and captivating, paired with his sun-kissed complexion, brought me immeasurable joy. Yet, in the darkness of night, when slumber claimed me, my son vanished from his crib. I relayed this heart-wrenching news to my husband, (male name), and since then, we have searched tirelessly. But then, (name) advised me to leave (imaginary country name) for my own safety, while he remained, longing for the day when our precious Jamie would be found," she concluded, a single tear tracing a delicate path down her cheek, quickly brushed away. I regarded her, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips, before speaking.

"We find ourselves in similar circumstances. You lost your child, and I lost my mother," I acknowledged, a sense of kinship blossoming between us.

"I am certain you will find him, perhaps not today, tomorrow, or even in the coming weeks or months. It may take years, but I promise, when I am grown, I will join your quest to find him. Furthermore, until you reunite with your son, I am more than willing to stand by your side, assuming the role of your child. How does that sound?" I proposed, anticipation shimmering in my eyes. She chuckled warmly before playfully tickling me, her voice laden with affection.

"I would cherish that with all my heart. However, we mustn't forget your princess duties. You must return to the palace and visit me again tomorrow morning, staying until evening. What do you say?" she inquired; her gaze fixed on me. I nodded eagerly, readily agreeing to her proposal. Thus, we spent the day indulging in freshly baked cookies, engaging in conversation, sharing tales of our lives, and laughing freely. As night fell, it was time for me to depart. However, before stepping out the door, I turned back, embracing (name) tightly. She chuckled, returning the affection with a kiss on my forehead. I bid her goodnight, promising to return tomorrow. And indeed, I honored that promise, visiting her every morning, departing only when the sun dipped below the horizon.

Her husband made occasional appearances, having a welcoming demeanor like his his wife's. Yet, an undercurrent of unease flickered within me. I couldn't fully trust him, but his infrequent visits assuaged my doubts. (Name) and I grew closer, evolving into a true mother-daughter bond. At times, I found myself calling her "mom" or "mother," to which she responded with a genuine smile. Together, we created cherished memories, and sometimes -

I was abruptly jolted out of my reverie by an unfamiliar noise. It was a dissonant clamor that pierced the tranquility of the surroundings, causing one's heart to skip a beat. An unsettling feeling washed over me, a sense that something was terribly wrong. The source of the commotion emanated from the depths of the forest, near the cottage. With a surge of adrenaline, I sprinted towards the origin of the disturbance, my legs propelling me forward with urgency.

As I ventured deeper into the woods, my steps grew hesitant, my breaths shallow. Dread settled upon me like a heavy shroud when I witnessed the gruesome sight before me. (female name), lying motionless on the ground, her delicate form immersed in a pool of her own crimson blood. Three harrowing wounds marred her abdomen, silent testament to the violence inflicted upon her. And standing there, a chilling figure, was (male name), gripping a firearm in his hand, its muzzle once directed towards (name) before she collapsed.

Overwhelmed with grief, I rushed to (name)'s side, cradling her fragile face in my lap, tears streaming down my cheeks in a torrential downpour. She mustered the strength to gaze up at me, her voice trembling as she uttered her final plea. "P-please... take c-care of m-my son... if you ever f-find him... and t-take care of yourself, Little Princess." I stared at her, my sobs punctuating the hushed air, pleading for her not to leave me alone. "Please, don't say that. We will find him together. Please, don't leave me," I implored through hiccups, my voice quivering with despair. In a faint whisper, she offered me solace, echoing her earlier words. "Chins up or the crown slips, Little Princess," she whispered before her eyelids closed, forever sealing her luminous gaze.

Lost in a sea of anguish, I cried out, my anguished screams reverberating through the forest, as if beseeching the heavens to reverse this cruel fate. Yet, amidst my wails, a menacing presence approached, (male name) growling with accusation, his gun menacingly trained upon me. "Why are you screaming, you bastard? You killed her," he snarled, his finger hovering over the trigger, ready to exact revenge for his tragic loss. Paralyzed with shock, I stood there, my eyes wide with terror, unsure of what to do. But then, from the shadows emerged a figure, a man cloaked in pure white. Swiftly, he apprehended (male name), binding him tightly, rendering him powerless. Retrieving a vial, he placed it beneath (male name)'s nose, causing him to succumb to unconsciousness.

In the midst of this turmoil, a radiant light emanated from behind me, drawing my attention. Turning to face the luminosity, I beheld a vision that defied belief. Mounted atop a magnificent white steed was a man adorned with a crown crafted from intertwining tree branches and leaves. His flowing locks, cascading like a waterfall, were a cascade of pristine white, reaching down to his lower back. Behind him, a retinue of ethereal horses, all as white as freshly fallen snow, were ridden by warriors clad in verdant capes, armed with bows and arrows. Flanking each side of the majestic horses were women draped in flowing white garments, their hands gently holding shimmering lamps. Strangely, I noticed that they all possessed long, pointed ears, evoking an otherworldly quality. The scene unfolded like a tableau from a realm of enchantment.

Quivering with curiosity and trepidation, I dared to ask the majestic figure before me, "Who are you?" The man’s response was measured and calm, calming my fears. "We are the elves of (imaginary country name 2), and we harbor no bad intentions." With those enigmatic words, my consciousness succumbed to the overwhelming events unfolding around me, and I fell into a profound slumber, unaware of the fantastical destiny that awaited.

this is just an idea i will update the names soons

please leave review bad or good they re always appreciated!!!

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | S.H.

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, sad ending, allusions to cheating, heartbreak, break up, King!Steve, popular!reader, poorly proofread

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader | Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve is slipping through your fingers and you desperately hold onto him not realizing that his heart isn't yours anymore.

Word count: 2k

Note: This is only the preview, I wanted to see how this will do before I write the actual story! @take-everything-you-can thank you for listening to my ideas and helping with more!

-

The red wine is seeping through his shirt, staining his soft skin with it’s stickiness. He clumsily tries to wipe it off with a random cloth he found in Tina's bathroom, as though it would help, as though he could undo it, as though the redness hasn’t already stained too much of the blue material. 

He is mumbling incoherent words under his breath. 

You roll your eyes, reaching for the cloth in his hands, “it’s not coming off, Steve–”

“It’s coming,” he mumbles, drunkenly.

You sigh, walking around him, you put the cloth on the counter and reach out to him, cupping his cheeks, “come on, just let me take you home.” 

“Why don’t you go home?” 

He looks down at you with a look in his eyes that you aren’t familiar with. He furrows his brows as he looks into your eyes, searching for something that he won’t find in your eyes, ever. 

You are scared of it, you are scared of him, of what he feels, of what changed. You act like you don’t know what changed, you act like you are clueless, you act like you are unaware of everything that’s been going on behind your back. But you know everything. 

You know that Steve isn’t who you want him to be. 

He is King Steve and you are the queen of Hawkins High– you didn’t give that title to yourself, you never would, in a way it’s humiliating to you that people claim you to be some sort of queen, some mere girl that people look up to for some reason. You are nothing but a simple girl and Steve is nothing but a simple guy but unlike you, he loves the attention, especially the one he gets from all the girls, the ones that make him feel desired. You always hated the way he flirted with them even when he was already with you– he said he only did it because of Tommy and the other guys from the team, they always encouraged him to flirt with them. You didn't understand it, you would never do that to him. His flirtations were only halfhearted and he never actually did anything but it did nothing to make you feel better. Still, you stayed with him because you loved him and because you knew that he only did it for show, to keep up his stupid reputation.

After all he did only have eyes for you. Only you were allowed to see sides of him that no one else saw, only you got lingering looks, soft touches and kisses, only you got to lay in his arms and listen to the beat of his heart, only you were his girl, his only girl. Only you got all the I love you's.

He took you out on dates, he gave you flowers, he kissed you in his car, in downtown bars, behind the school, in his room, in your room. He made you happy like no one else did. He once did.

You were his first love, you had hoped that you would be his only love but then she came along and his love for you was just gone. 

When he suddenly stopped flirting with every girl that batted her lashes at him, you had hoped that he finally stopped caring about what his friends thought, you had hoped that he was finally ready to show everyone that he wasn’t like that, that he wasn’t some playboy who needed more than his girlfriend to keep him interested and satisfied but that was simply too much to wish for. You were a fool for considering that in the first place.

His eyes strayed away from you weeks ago, he had set his eyes on her, the girl that stole him and his heart away from you like it was nothing.  

Nancy Wheeler. 

The pretty freshman who was assigned to be his partner in some stupid history project. 

You knew that he was gone the moment he stopped calling you every night just to hear your voice before going to bed, you knew that his love had started to vanish when even after the project was over, he kept canceling or even forgetting date nights, you knew that his heart wasn’t yours anymore when you caught him staring at her with a look in his eyes that you wished to see when he looked at you. 

He isn’t yours anymore but you still hold onto him because he is still here, right in front of you and he puts his hand around your wrists, not hers. He looks into your eyes, not hers. But he doesn’t look at you with love or adoration in his eyes, no. He looks at you with something– with nothing. There is nothing in his eyes and you can already feel yourself growing sick because you know that this is it. You knew this was coming, you knew this would happen eventually, he will leave you, for her. 

You don’t know what happened between them, if anything happened at all, you don’t know if he crossed that line yet, he did emotionally but did he physically?

Your heart begins to pound in your chest, the sound of the music outside is too loud, even when you are stuck in this bathroom with your very drunk boyfriend who is about to shatter your heart into tiny little pieces, you still hear the music and it’s hurting your ears. Your throat tightens and your vision blurs. You feel like you are suffocating. 

“W-Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, not even recognizing your own voice, it’s so shaky and so far away. 

Steve frowns, he shakes his head a little as he keeps looking at you. His eyes flicker down to your cheeks, to your nose that he used to kiss every time he would say goodbye, your lips that are trembling from the fear that is running through your body, he holds your wrists tighter as he looks back into your tear filled eyes.

What is he doing? 

You step closer to him, blinking those tears away, you whisper his name, begging and pleading with your eyes. You love him. God, you love him so much. 

He says your name. Not baby, not honey, not babe, not princess. He says your name. 

“L-Let’s go home, okay?” You mumble shakily, tearing your eyes away from his, “let’s just go home together.” 

"Together?" He slurs as he stumbles forward a little, you steady him by grabbing his waist.

“Yeah, you wanted to stay with me, remember?” 

“I-I don’t wanna stay with you, I don’t wanna be with– with you,” he mumbles, closing his eyes, he sighs. You smell the alcohol in his breath, the wine on his shirt and it makes you feel nauseous. He grabs your shoulders and suddenly his touch is too much, knowing that it’ll be the last time he touches you. 

“W-What do you mean?”

He is too drunk to see how scared you really are, how hurt you truly are. He is too much of a fool to see anything. 

“You heard me,” he says as he gets closer to your face, “I don’t want to be with you,” he spits. 

You draw back, furrowing your brows and holding your breath as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach, of course you weren’t prepared for this even though you saw it coming. 

“Why not?”

He looks bad, his hair is messy from all the tugging all night, his eyes are red rimmed and he has dark circles beneath them, like he had been up all night, his eyes are filled with so many things yet none at all, right now, you don’t recognize him. 

He is gripping your shoulders tightly, you wish it’s because he is afraid to let you go. 

“I’m not in love with you anymore.” 

And just like that, with a few simple words, he broke your heart. 

Steve Harrington, the man you gave your heart to so willingly, despite your friends warning you about him, despite all the warning signs, you gave him your heart and you never regretted it even though you should have but he was your Steve. He was. 

Steve awaits a reaction from you. He expects you to break down, to slap him, to push him away from you, to ask why but you don’t. In fact, you don’t give him a reaction at all, you just nod at his words, somehow managing to keep the tears from falling, your trembling lip tells him that you do want to cry though but you don’t. 

The bile rises in your throat, you want to throw up, you want to fall to your knees and puke your guts and your heart out but you swallow harshly and close your eyes for a moment, pressing your lips together to keep yourself from sobbing. 

Please wake up, please wake up. You think to yourself, let this be a dream, just a bad dream. You want to wake up, in his arms, in his embrace, you want to feel his kisses on your shoulder, his fingers running through your hair, to hear his morning voice, to hear him say I love you. But you will never get any of it again. It’s over. 

“Okay,” you whisper, shakily. 

You step away from him, pushing his hands off your shoulders, you nod to yourself as you open your eyes to look at him one last time, “okay.” 

An unfamiliar feeling runs through him, gripping at his heart, it hurts and he suddenly feels nauseous. He blinks and stares at you as though he doesn’t understand what just happened. 

You look into each other’s eyes, you both drown everything else out, the voices outside, the music and the ongoing party. 

It’s over. 

You feel grief, the way you felt it all this time already, knowing that this was coming. 

He feels it too, though he doesn’t understand it yet. He doesn’t understand what a huge mistake he just made, how much he will despise himself for doing this to you, how much he will come to regret this. When he feels the loss of your touch, his heart begins to understand a little. 

Deep down you know that he will come back to you, he will. 

Unable to stand around him any longer, you step away, “I’ll get Tommy or something, he’ll drive you home–”

“What about you?” He asks as though he didn’t just tell you that he doesn’t want to be with you.

Your heart is hurting, it’s hurting so badly that you start to forget what it ever felt like to be loved by him. Your tears threaten to fall so you step around him and reach for the doorknob, “goodbye, Steve.” 

He says your name but you don’t dare to turn around to face him, you keep the sob in, pushing it down as you open the door and step out of the room.

By the time the door slams shut, you are already crying, the tears are streaming down your face as you rush through the hallway and down the stairs, not caring about the looks of curiosity of the people around you, you don’t care about anything right now. 

You stumble down the stairs, almost crashing on the hardwood floor if it wasn’t for your friend catching you before you can even take the fall. 

“Hey, oh my god, are you okay?” She asks as she steadies you, watching you with concern in her blue eyes. 

You shake your head as you look at her. 

She looks around as though she is searching for someone but when her eyes settle on him standing by the stairs, not walking down just yet, she knows that it’s him who made you cry. 

She rolls her eyes, putting her arm around you, she pulls you away from the stairs and out of the house, wrapping her cardigan around you after you both step out into the cold. The front door closes and despite the loud music, the laughter and all the people around him, Steve swears that he heard it shut, it echoed and it made him wince in pain. 

He doesn’t understand the deep regret in his chest, the pain in his heart and the confusion in his soul. 

He doesn’t understand it yet. 

-

next part

[ladyartemesia]

So this is really random but one of my drabble requests was for a Yoongi Soulmate scenario and I started writing it and I’m having so much fun SO I thought I’d give you guys a sneak peak! I’m hoping to have it up soon!

Roommate AU/Soulmate AU Preview • Yoongi

“Whatever you do, don’t mention soulmates.”

Kim Namjoon spent the last twenty minutes of your lunch break talking up his friend and trying to convince you to take him in as a roommate—

Only to make that weird comment and have you reconsidering your tentative acceptance.

“Okay…Is there a story to go with that cryptic declaration?”

Joon shook his head.

“I mean I don’t know if it’s my place—“

“Kim Namjoon, before I let some random man move into my place you’re gonna need to tell me why I can’t talk about soulmates. Everybody talks about soulmates. It’s what we do as a society. It’s like the weather—“

Joon snorted.

“Not Yoongi.”

“And the reason is?”

The two of you had a brief but intense staring contest.

“Alright fine—So… Yoongi was engaged.”

“To his soulmate?”

“No.”

“Oh…….Oh?”

Namjoon held up a finger—indicating that you should wait while he finished chewing his sandwich.

“He loved her—like a lot.”

“But they weren’t soulmates?”

“That didn’t matter to him. He said the whole system was stupid and didn’t mean anything.”

You chuckled.

“Bold words. I assume he had to eat them?”

Namjoon tilted his head in agreement.

“Yeah—he thought she was fine with it—the engagement was moving forward—and Yoongi was really happy….,”—he sighed and you unconsciously leaned in for the big reveal, —“until a soul mark popped up on her arm.”

Your mouth dropped open.

“What—noooo—she—she cheated on him?!”

There was only one way to get a soul mark.

Your soulmate had to see you without…clothes.

Like totally nude.

Fully naked.

Which meant Yoongi’s fiancé had gotten fully naked with somebody else.

No wonder he needed a place to stay.

Joon nodded.

“Seriously, don’t mention soulmates.”

• —— • ——— • —— • ——— • —— •——— •

As it turned out, you didn’t need to worry about mentioning soulmates to Yoongi—because the man barely spoke to you at all for the first three months you lived together.

Instead he communicated through a series of grunts, hums, and other assorted noises that you (surprisingly) became fluent in pretty quickly.

Once you even figured out that the milk carton was empty because Yoongi opened the fridge and sighed a certain way.

However, despite his aloof nature and interesting communicative habits, it was immediately clear why someone might be willing to throw over their hypothetical soulmate for him.

Min Yoongi was bloomin�� gorgeous.

And the few words you did hear him speak sounded like liquid sin on a cookie so—

Yeah.

[traumawhomst]

So Vampires, I won’t lie I love a platonic yandere vampire sire so much.

(1,250 words)

He sees you at your minimum wage job and at first just brushes you off as just another boring human. Then he notices the colors on your bracelet, school colors for a very expensive and exclusive school, a few (human) businesses partners he knew sent their children to that school and none of them worked for minimum wage on their free time. Between the bracelet, the callouses on your hands, and the way your eyes seemed dark and sunken, he knew everything. He left without much thought, telling himself that he didn’t care about some random human and their poor tragic life.

He told himself it was just curiosity when he looked up the current class list, (you can find anything with enough time and money) and found your name. Even in just the school photos you stuck out like a sore thumb, a wildflower in an otherwise perfectly manicured garden. A little further digging revealed you were an amazing student, even if your grades weren’t always perfect. You clearly had talent and a strong work ethic.

It’s just curiosity that makes him dig further, finding your admissions essay, in his office, finding himself smiling at some points, quietly charmed by your choice of words and styling of your essay. It had been a risk that had clearly paid off. He liked those willing to take risks, reminded him of himself when he was younger.

He might as well look further, finding your freelance writing which he poured over in chronological order a growing sense of pride in your progress over the years. Finding your work made him stumble upon your personal life.

Family, but not close, which seemed to be the theme for everyone in it. Did they know about your accomplishments? Did they even care?

He’s not very surprised when he follows you home and sees you living in a studio in an apartment with paper walls, living on a diet of instant noodles and whatever soda was cheapest for that week. How could you study living like this? You seemed to only ever work or study, taking every shift you could just to make enough to afford something a little filling than instant noodles. Surely you’re not at your best, he can’t help but wonder what you could produce given proper resources.

His colleagues laugh when he defends it all as just curiosity, and he decides to approach you in person to finally get over this little, inquiry to rest.

But you look so tired when you smile at him, you’re trying so hard to maintain the smile and he’s wondering when the last time you smiled and he realizes then, as he nods along to your explanation about whatever item he picked up, that he hadn’t seen you smile once in a week of watching you.

He could smell your blood and did his best to hide the scrunching of his nose. Wildly anemic and deficient in every vitamin and mineral that a human needed to stay upright. It set him on edge, wondering about the strain on your body it must have. Humans were so fragile already, how long could you live like this?

The thought of you dying sent a bolt of panic through him. You were young, talented, and hardworking you deserved time to flourish and grow.

It would take a few months for all the necessary paperwork to be complete and in that time he slowly builds a sort of friendship with you.

On your end an older man, (whose eye color you could never remember) started to come in at least once a week. He was sweet in a way you hadn’t expected, happy to talk about any book he or you had brought. That’s when you really noticed him, when he came in holding your favorite book. He hadn’t read it yet, and was happy to hear your small preview and talk about the major themes in it. He always managed to come in when it was slow and for some reason no one ever approached you when you two talked.

He’d said he owned a bookstore, (more than one you imagined from the amount of first editions he causally walked around with) but was visiting here for business. He told you that when you refused to take one of his very expensive first edition he tried to give you. He only relented when you explained that your apartment was rather damp and you knew that it would only degrade the book over time. Next week he showed up with the newest edition, and refused to leave with it. Really you’re doing him a favor, he’d love to hear your thoughts on it.

He wasn’t scary either, he always had this air about him that was calming. Something that made you relax and trust him, and in the few months you met him he’d never done anything make you doubt your trust in him.

He’d brought you a book to read with an immortal character in it, and asked what you’d ever take the chance if offered. The thought of being stuck in your life forever or any life really made you sick to your stomach. No you’d rather accept that your life would be finite and told him you thought life would be meaningless if you were immortal.

And for the first time, something new quickly twitch across his face. Anger? Disappointment? After months of friendly banter and discussion it was almost a slap in the face of the reality of it all. You didn’t know him, or his motives. The look only lasts a moment, before shifting to his pleasant neutral again, but you still saw it. You pretended for the rest of the conversation until he leaves. You request to a new work schedule when you finished for the day.

He on the other hand was practically spinning about it. He should have been ready for this sort of answer, but he wasn’t. He’d had the conversation played a million times in his head, and you always agreed on it being a gift. He rationalized that you simply couldn’t understand it, given time you could be persuaded to see differently.

He showed up, ready to talk with you only to find out (through a heavy layer of compulsion) that you’d changed your hours to avoid Him. Time to move forward with the plan it seemed.

He found you one late night as you walked to your apartment and something about him made the hairs on the back of your neck stand-up.

He offered to walk you home, and you finally put your foot down and told him to leave you alone, as politely as you could muster. But you couldn’t seem to actually speak any of the words. What were you trying to say again?

He happily chatters on about how excited he is to show you your home, one arm around you steering you to some place you didn’t recognize. But every time you tried to say something you’d forget a little more of what was going on.

He didn’t really want it to do it this way, he told himself as he guides you in the deep state of compulsion you’re in. He wanted to win you over with the idea, to gladly accept his offer, to see it as the gift it was. But he could also admit to himself watching you try and fight the compulsion and fail, it was adorable to see the stubbornness that you had, it’d serve you well in your new life.

[thisismeracing]

Falling (asleep) | LH44 (patreon)

read the full piece here

* part of the 'falling' universe

― Pairing: stepdad!lewis x single mom!reader ― Warning: mentions of alcohol and food; single!mom reader; she/her pronouns to reader; 1k2 words. ― Summary: You had dinner with a few friends, and Leo loved the fact that Lewis was included - so much so, that he wanted his new favorite pilot to tuck him in bed and read him to sleep.

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

preview

Though you tried your best to keep the house tidy, it was one of the hardest jobs in the world when one had a toddler in said house. And you just happened to have a hurricane toddler who loved all things toys and random objects such as your pillows, the remote, a colorful spoon you got during vacation, and so on. That’s partially the reason why the living room was brimming with scattered toys the moment Lewis rang the bell. That and because you wanted to rest the few hours you had free that Saturday considering you were about to receive a few friends and cook them dinner. 

“Hi,” the Brit breathed when you opened the door wearing a simple pair of slacks and a red camisole. You looked stunning in his eyes, especially how your curly hair framed your face free from the pins and gel you used here and there for work.

“Is it Lew?!” Leo screeched from his spot on the carpet and jumped over a few car toys running to the threshold. 

“It’s me, champ, how’s it going?” Lewis crouched down and your toddler circled as much as his little arms could around the Brit’s strong neck.

****

You were getting a few more snacks in the kitchen only to be surprised by Leo dozing off in Lewis’ arms when you crossed the threshold to the living room. He looked at you from the couch with a smile on his face, seemingly comfortable with the fact that your kid spent half of the night glued to his side and now was just seconds away from drooling on his shirt. 

“I’m sorry, you whispered, but Lewis just shook his head, and gently ruffled Leo’s curls. You crouched in front of them, shaking your son softly. “Time to go to bed, love.”

“Can Uncle Lew put me to bed?” Leo mumbled, tightening his hold on Lewis' forearm. You felt your face and heart warm, but cold in fear at the same time.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this lil sneak peek! Make sure to like and reblog if you did *mwah* and PLEASE, LET’S INDULGE IN THIS UNIVERSEEEE BECAUSE I LOVE STEPDAD!LEW. Once again thanks to my coffee emoji anon for proofreading yet another piece, ily c! <3

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘  ▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[momolady]

Patreon Rewards: A Shiny New Year!

I think this year has left us all in shock. No joke. I'm not going to pretend we've not all been slapped silence by something. Hopefully though, we can form together in our little monster fucker community and find comfort and family with one another. I'm hoping to rely on my writing as an escape more than ever, and I want all of you with me along for that journey.

Anyways, we've got a wonderful line up for this mail out! Everything is going to be glossy, glittery, and shiny. We have Alzun and me by @chopshoppar, Levi squishmallow by @belle-the-witch-bitch, and Lycoris by @sharklysweet

Everyone will get a post card/thank you card and a small note from me thanking you for this year!

$50 & $20 will get all three stickers while $15 & $10 will get two stickers at random.

Sign Up Now!

But what else can you expect to get on the Momolady patreon?

Let’s see, for $1 (Symbaby Tier) you get special previews to up coming stories, plus tons of downloads for phone wallpapers and desktop wallpapers. You also get access to the backlog of stories previously released to the tier, some unpublished to the public. Plus access to the Momolady discord server!

For $3 (Orc Tier) you get all that up there, plus a brand new story every week! Not to mention every story that’s not been published yet, as well as a monthly story collection download for on the go reading.

For $5 (Gillman Tier) you get all that good stuff above plus the entire rough draft of every story that will be coming out. You’ll be able to see the unedited version of the stories that you see here. First dibs on commissions when I open them as well.

Double that, $10 (Mothman tier) and you get all those goodies above as well as the bi-monthly special mail out which will get you stickers, prints, and more mailed to your door.

If you double it again and do $20 (Forest Creature) you’ll get access to a special chat in my discord server (it’s dead right now but you could help resurrect it.) You also get even more goodies in the mail outs, so that’s more stickers, more prints, more whatever I decide to offer.

Then, for $50 (Room Monster) you get a commission every other month upon request! You get a 3k word story, or save up to build to an extra large commission of whatever you’d like me to write.

All of this includes access to stories not yet published to the public, and stories not even posted to public! There’s collections of stories for easy to read access and I am hoping to do more in the future. Once I get novel writing down, Patreon will be the first and only place to see the process and get first hand knowledge of the stories. I’d love to have you there and in the discord server. It not only helps me, but it guarantees you tons of awesome stories to make you happy too!

Check my Patreon out here!

And to preview what it’s like check out my free to read collection here.

[diekleinesuesse]

Being best friends with Changbin:

Being best friends with Changbin would be an absolute rollercoaster of fun, chaos, and deep emotional support. From the outside, people might assume that he’s just the tough, confident rapper with a powerful stage presence, but as his best friend, you’d know the real Seo Changbin the softhearted, hilarious, and endlessly caring person behind the music

Endless Roasting Sessions & Playful Banter

One of the biggest parts of being best friends with Changbin would be the constant banter. He’s known for his quick wit and playful teasing, so expect to be roasted on a daily basis. But don’t worry it’s all out of love. Whether it’s making fun of your outfit, calling you “short” (even if you’re taller than him), or mocking your pronunciation of certain words, he’d always find a way to keep things entertaining.

Of course, you’d have to give it right back. Changbin loves when people match his energy, so if you clap back with an equally sassy remark, he’d just laugh and high-five you. The banter never crosses the line into anything mean he’d never want to hurt your feelings. Instead, it would be a constant game of who can come up with the funniest insult or the most dramatic reaction.

Gym buddies for live

Changbin is known for being one of the most dedicated gym-goers in Stray Kids. If you were his best friend, he would absolutely try to drag you to the gym with him. Even if you weren’t into working out, he’d encourage you to at least try it “Just come with me once! I promise you’ll feel amazing afterward!” (Spoiler: you might be sore for days.)

If you actually enjoyed the gym, you’d be his ultimate workout partner. He’d hype you up constantly “LET’S GO! YOU GOT THIS! LOOK AT THOSE GAINS!” and probably challenge you to random competitions like “Who can hold a plank the longest?” (He’d win, but you’d pretend you let him win.)

If you weren’t a fan of the gym at all, he wouldn’t force you, but he’d still send you random gym selfies with captions like “Guess who’s getting stronger while you’re still in bed?” just to mess with you.

Late-Night Deep Talks

Despite his energetic personality, Changbin is actually very sentimental and introspective. As his best friend, you’d get to see that side of him a lot. He’d be the kind of person who randomly texts you at 2 AM like, “Hey, do you ever wonder what life would be like if we made different choices?”

Whenever one of you was feeling down, he’d be the first to check in. He’d insist on meeting up whether it was going for a drive, grabbing late-night food, or just sitting on a park bench talking about life. He’s the type to listen carefully and give thoughtful advice, but he’s also really good at making you laugh even in your worst moments.

Likewise, he’d trust you enough to open up about his struggles too. He might joke around all the time, but he carries a lot of responsibility and pressure. As his best friend, you’d be one of the few people he could truly be vulnerable with.

Studio Hangouts & Exclusive Song Previews

Being best friends with Changbin means spending a LOT of time in the studio. He’s constantly working on new music, and he’d definitely invite you to hang out while he writes, produces, and records. He’d play you unreleased tracks and ask for your opinion “Be honest. Does this verse sound good, or should I change it?”

If you had any musical skills (singing, rapping, writing lyrics, etc.), he’d absolutely hype you up and encourage you to join in. Even if you didn’t, he’d still make you feel involved, maybe by letting you mess around with the soundboard or teaching you how to mix a track.

And of course, there would be plenty of silly moments too freestyle rap battles, making weird beats just for fun, and singing the most random things dramatically just to make each other laugh.

Food Adventures & Late-Night Snacks

Changbin LOVES food, so a big part of your friendship would revolve around eating. Whether it’s trying new restaurants, ordering way too much takeout, or late-night convenience store runs, he’d always be down for a food adventure.

He’d probably make fun of your food choices (“Ew, why would you put that on your pizza?”) but still end up stealing bites from your plate. If you ever cooked something for him, he’d dramatically rate it “This is a 10/10 meal. You should open a restaurant.”

And if you both stayed up late (which would happen often), you’d raid the kitchen together and eat snacks while watching random YouTube videos or talking about life.

Protective Big Brother Energy

Even if you were older than him, Changbin would still act like your protective big brother. If anyone upset you, he’d be the first to step up “Who do I need to fight?” (half-joking but also kind of serious).

If you were feeling anxious or insecure, he’d be the first to hype you up “Are you kidding? You’re amazing. They just don’t have good taste.”

And if you ever got lost in a crowded place or had trouble with something, he’d go full Problem Solver Mode, making sure you were okay.

The Ultimate Concert Hype Man

If you ever went to a Stray Kids concert, Changbin would go out of his way to make sure you had the best experience. Even if you were in the audience, he’d find a way to acknowledge youpointing at you, making silly faces, or hyping you up from the stage.

After the show, he’d text you something like, “Did you see how cool I looked? Be honest.”

If you were backstage, he’d be even more dramatic running up to you after the performance like, “DID YOU SEE THAT?! I KILLED IT, RIGHT?” and expecting you to shower him with compliments.

Nonstop Laughter & Unforgettable Memories

At the end of the day, being best friends with Changbin would mean never having a dull moment. He’s funny without even trying, and his energy is contagious. Whether it’s laughing until your stomach hurts, making up weird inside jokes, or having completely ridiculous conversations, he’d always make sure you were having fun.

But more than that, he’d be the kind of friend who sticks with you through everything the good, the bad, and the chaotic. He’d be your biggest supporter, your partner in crime, and your safe place all in one.

Being best friends with Changbin wouldn’t just mean having fun it would mean having someone who genuinely cares, who listens, who hypes you up, and who always, always has your back.

[jovial-thunder]

Lancer Tactics devlog

I'm gonna try out posting my ~monthly devlog roundup here as well. These suckers are glorified changelogs with anecdotes and gifs galore. Let me know if this is something you like seeing show up on your dash?

Map Editor

Got units able to be placed/deleted/moved in the mission editor

Can paint/remove command zones in the editor

Can paint minecraft-like terrain blocks in the editor

Can paint/rotate multi-tile props in the editor

Can edit unit character sheets and portrait via the editor

3D maps

Did a bunch of art tests with 3D mech models, provided by GeneralChaos, which we ended up deciding not to go with to keep things simple.

To avoid the can of worms that is animation, we'd have to lean into a static "tabletop minatures" aesthetic which we decided is not a style we want to be stuck with. By sticking with 2D sprites, we avoid falling into a sort of uncanny valley; it's easier to get away with not animating a 2D sprite than it is for a 3D model.

 We also experimented with 3D terrain. We decided to make a rule that the visual style for a piece of terrain should match its mechanical effect: obstructing terrain that you can't move through, such as rocks or buildings, will be in 3D, while non-obstructing terrain like trees will stick with 2D sprites.

Hooking up the 3D camera to follow events like movement and attacks did a LOT for making it starting to feel like it's cohering into an Actual Game™

Implemented cover! And an attack preview! Cover works by aiming a ray from the target to the originator (technically to and from each voxel of each, respectively, to handle size 2s shooting above size 1 cover) and tracking all the terrain blocks it hits (how we'll handle non-terrain hard cover TBD). I think I have it working according to Perijove's cover rules manual, but I'm sure there'll be edge cases to work out. This is a case where things are significantly simplified by working in squares instead of hexes; hexes have a lot more possible weird angles you have to deal with.

Re-added what I'm stubbornly calling Combat Popcorn; little bits of text that pop out when you use abilities and attacks.

UI & game screens

Added ability for the engine to show UI that's anchored to the game world via a little word bubble line but also stay on screen as the camera moves around.

Got word bubbles working; you can now write dialogue in the mission editor, hit playtest, and see it work in a mission! (it does actually translate correctly now; this gif is just from a bug I thought was funny)

Got ability effects mostly behaving appropriately again, including muzzle flashes. The easiest way to handle them ended up being NOT billboarding them so they always face the camera (like all other 2D sprites in the game); instead, I put them on a plane parallel with the ground and just spin them around the unit to point at wherever their target is.

Did some work ironing out our tooltip system. The standard in CRPGs these days is this kind of nested labyrinth of tooltops that you see in Baldur's Gate 3:

I Did Not Want to try and figure out how to wrangle that much UI, so we're instead opting to cap the nested tooltips at the second layer. You can lock a general tooltip for e.g. an action and then mouseover various items within that tooltip to get glossary definitions...

...and then instead of having those glossary tips be lockable/mouse-overable themselves, I collect all related terms to that glossary definition and let you tab through them.

Added skin overlay functionality to the portrait maker, enabling textures like scars, tattoos, stubble, and vitiligo to be applied to just the skin and not extend off into space.

Midway through writing this update, Carpenter sent me this gif of the randomization button working! There's a still a bunch of skintones/assets missing and a few are a bit janky, but it was exciting to start seeing the range of these lil freaks (affectionate) that this editor can create.

Mourning cloak license!

This is the one I'm probably most excited about: I did a bit of a content dive and implemented a basic character sheet + all Mourning Cloak traits and equipment. They don't have fancy graphics yet, but the weapons and systems can be added via the character sheet and used in-game.

It took a little under a day, including adding soon-to-be common mechanisms like bonus damage. This is great news in that it means the engine we've been building for so long in the abstract seems to do a great job in handling comprehensive actual game content, and that it looks like we've set ourselves up for success when it comes time to buckle down on churning that out.

I'm sure other licenses will come with unique difficulties (I fear the day it comes time to do the Mule Harness // Goblin CP) but I'm feeling good about it!

Vertical slice?

Taking a step back, the pressing question on my mind has been "when will we have a playable early access build?"

I was originally hoping for Feb/March, but what we've internally been referring to as the "3D cataclysm" has pushed everything back by at least three months, so the target for the first alpha build is now in May. So, ah, thanks for your patience! Seeing things come together, I've become more and more convinced that moving to 3D was the right call.

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

if you have paid any attention to my ramblings on my process, you know that i tend to rethink my comics and toss out a lot of work if im not satisfied with how it turned out. so i thought id share some previews of comics that have gone unseen, and why they havent been posted (yet?) in order of how likely i am to finish and/or post them :)

(under cut bc long post)

Be nice to each other: Main 4. Tomtord/Polyworld, angst. 4 pages. Matt confronts Tom and Tord on how have been acting, accidentally compelling them into saying how they really feel.

Status: abandoned.

I drew this one quite a while ago and i still really like the dialogue and character interactions i wrote for it! vampire hypnosis is a super cool concept and im definitely going to use it in the future, but this ultimately didnt pan out how i wanted it to.

Why it's not posted: while the buildup and climax are really good, this would be a huge mess to clean up. this would require some serious work both between the four of them and on my part for writing and drawing all of that!! plus, it would totally change the relationship dynamic between Tom and Tord, possibly ending it altogether (and i still have so much i want to do with them!!!)

Ed and Edd: Eduardo, Edd, Eduardo's mother. No pairings, angst. 3 pages. Eduardo can't wait to introduce himself at school, but he's got competition for the name he chose.

Status: abandoned.

Trans Eduardo is such a good concept. imagine figuring out who you are only to find out someone else already is that. of course you're going to hate them.

Why it's not posted: two main reasons. one is that i couldn't figure out how to end the comic (a recurring theme lol), but another is that i'm still not super confident with writing Eduardo yet. ...or writing children. so kid Eduardo is a challenge.

Can't tell where you're looking: Tommatt, fluff. 3 pages. Tom isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is.

Status: on my list!

Tommatt fans, i have heard your pleas i have received your asks. it's on my list.

Why it's not posted: i had a great idea, drew several pages, thought about it, and decided it sucked, actually. it can be reworked, but my motivation did not get out unscathed.

Bad (?) Dream: Tomtord, uh.... yeah thats just smut huh. 2 pages. A bad dream for one and a good dream for the other.

Status: ???

I'm not saying SHIT.

Why it's not posted: originally, it was because i didn't want to post suggestive stuff on this blog. now, it's because i found better ways to cover the concepts in this comic. Y'all will simply have to wait and see ;)

Matt figures it out: Matt, Tom. could be Tommatt. hurt/comfort. a collection of random sketches. Matt figures out how to turn into a bat! It sucks!

Status: on my list!

I've been wanting to talk about this SOOOO BAD!!! because why would you transform in a second via a poof of smoke when it could be an hour-long painful disturbing process?! honestly could be described as hurt/comfort/hurt.

Why it isn't posted: well for one it barely counts as a comic, just random sketches and a general idea. to be fair thats how most of my comics start, but... you know. i havent worked on it in a while mainly because the characters need to solve some personal problems first.

Not tonight: Tordmatt. fluff/suggestive. 2 pages. Matt's got pointy ears again, and Tord knows what that means!

Status: on my list!

TORDMATT FANS I HAVE ALSO HEARD YOUR PLEAS! Also, yippee i get to infodump about my headcanons via a comic

Why it's not posted: unfinished, and i hit a bit of a road block. usually its in writing, but this time its in the art half! so i have no idea how to get around it yet!!!

Puberty sucks fr. imagine losing an eye: Tom, Tom's mother. no pairings. angst. 3 pages. When did Tom's eyes change?

Status: on my list!

You all remember the soul-crushing existential grief that started at the same time as puberty, right? No, just me? Huh.

Why it isn't posted: layout isn't quite what im looking for :/ also, a half-naked child on tumblr, even in a completely non-sexual context, is something i am slightly apprehensive about!

Something's wrong: Main 4. Polyworld, angst/suggestive. 20+ pages. Tom doesn't feel well. Edd, Matt, and Tord try to help.

Status: actively working on it

Oh, you guys remember that poll? Haha thats funny. Yeah i'm still working on this one.

Why it isn't posted: uh its not done yet. and also i am unsure of whether or not it will be allowed on tumblr. or whether or not i want people to speculate on my entire deal.

...and while i'm here:

Communication comic part 6: IN PROGRESS!! these idiots need to establish boundaries. all of them. i believe <3

Zombie Tord part 4: ON MY LIST! i want to get through the communication comic first :3

thank u for reading all my ramblings :D! i am so fucking excited to continue working on all of my dumb shit and i am so happy that ppl like said dumb shit

[escookbook]

🍳 Let's eat!! 🍳

The preorders for Niki's Cookbook are now open!! They will be closing in a month, on March 12~

🍨 https://escookbook.bigcartel.com/

(bundle info underneath!!)

🥚 For big eaters, here's the full bundle!

Comes with:

Physical zine

5 prints

2 sticker sheets

Charm

Notepad

Coaster

Stencil

All digital content, early birds + stretch goals!

🌭 Don't need the physical zine but want the merch? Then the pdf + merch bundle is just for you!

Comes with:

5 prints

2 sticker sheets

Charm

Notepad

Coaster

Stencil

All digital content, early birds + stretch goals!

🍰 For both the full and pdf + merch bundles, we have an option to "bloom" them for sticker enthusiasts!

Blooming these bundles for an extra $6 doubles the number of sticker sheets and stickers you get! Stick them everywhere!!

🥐 Spin the wheel with our gacha bundle!

Comes with:

Physical zine

3 RANDOM prints

1 Charm

1 Notepad

1 Acrylic coaster OR stencil

Ticket early bird ONLY

All digital content + stretch goals

🍜 Only want the book? Here's the book-only bundle!

Comes with:

Physical zine

Ticket early bird ONLY

All digital content + stretch goals

🍔 And finally, the digital bundle!

Comes with all digital content:

Digital zine (B5, ~100 pages, 20 recipes)

Printable charts and recipe cards

Digital stretch goals

🍴 For early tasters, we have the early birds!

There are only limited quantities, so act fast if you want them! On the menu is a cute tearable ticket made by AL and a boba tea holder made by sana!

🍡 We've got pages of delicious art, writing, and recipes!

Be sure to keep a look out for our contributors posting their previews for sneak peeks, as well as keep an eye on this account for all updates!

We hope you enjoy the meal that everyone worked so hard on, let's eat!

[makeadealwithdean]

modern au where billy is a dancer at a gay club and he does his routine to "one of your girls" by troye sivan, cause who doesn't love a blond twunk?

and he's in the middle of his routine when he notices steve fucking harrington in the second row (or maybe he watches steve walk in and sit down in front of his stage idk) and he's fucking shook out of his mind to see his old high school rival here of all places. partly because it's been like 5-7 years since they've seen each other last (graduation basically), and partly because up until two fucking seconds ago, billy thought steve was like 100% straight.

and billy is so goddamn shook to see steve again that he accidentally, subconsciously directs his whole routine towards him, and steve, for his part, is equally shook to see anyone he knows here, much less billy hargrove, but of course, he can't look away.

and then when it's time for the part of the routine where billy picks a random audience member to give a preview lap dance to,,, take a wild guess who he picks 😈

-a concept of a fic that i might write soon, who knows?

[iz1331]

With the new wave of fanfics being made post-Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, can we start putting,

"Here's a preview. Be warned. It's intense.", to summaries of Beetlejuice fanfics? Even if the genre is fluff 😆

And in disclaimers: "I do not own Beetlejuice. Gotta keep it real." 😭

When author is open for comments and reviews in the Authors notes: "This is a safe space. Feel free to express yourself, don't be afraid."

Author's Notes signing off after finishing a fanfic or a chapter: "I believe it was Dostoevsky who said, 'Later, fucker'."

New tags, too.

"The Juice is Loose." When posting a new fanfic or a chapter after a looooooong hiatus.

"Screw the tags, it's so random" When you don't know what tags to put anymore 😭

"I'm back 😏" to the authors who've come back to writing because of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.

Still thinking of a Rory and Delia line, but these for now.

I'm positive someone out there has already written or blogged something similar to this, if so, can anyone tag me in the comments or send a link in the comments of that post? Thanks!

Bit of spoiler down below if you haven't watched the sequel, though if you're already up to date on most of the new fanfics in AO3, then you've got nothing to worry about

"No beta we die like Bob, Rory, Delores (double dead, maybe), the Janitor, Charles, Delia, that laundromat owner, that french graffiti artist, Jeremy (totally)" 😆😭

"Betelgeuse and Lydia's psychic connection", "30 years worth of pining", "Unreliable narrator", "Alternate Universe: Dream Theory", "Multilingual Beetlejuice"