#Yellow Type Writer Inspiration

[gilssimo]

Miss Violet Winters:

Please do not re-post - I worked very hard on this - INSPIRATION: Porphyria's Lover Written by Robert Bowing

I remember the day I first met Miss Violet Winters. She sat precariously poised reading Poe’s ‘Raven’. Her full and luscious brown curls were pinned in perfectly place under her navy-blue headband. Her pale skin was an elegant backdrop for her thin, black glasses and full lips coated in a neutral soft pink hue. She wore a conservative navy skirt with a white blouse, both of which were a little too big for her. 

(trust it gets better ;)

Miss Winters was young, educated, and well-versed in society's mannerisms. She cooked with her mother every Sunday night while her father blew rings of tobacco and listened to Beethoven’s symphonies flow forth from the brass flower of the gramophone. 

She was elegant and natural, like a walking, talking porcelain doll that every man aspired to possess. 

Her home was a quaint slice of paradise with vibrant hydrangeas, roses, and other remarkable specimens that adorned the property. A wall of burnt orange maple trees bordered the heavenly scape. She would sit in the garden on her spotted picnic blanket and scribble her latest revelation in her leather notebook while I watched from the grazing fields next door. The sheep fed as the Loon and Woodland Thrush praised the sun's evening glow from the comforts of the lake and shaded pine trees of the cool Autumn’s eve. Between the hours of two and five, I could watch Miss Winters scribble down her thoughts and dream of the day she would be mine. 

During those heavenly hours, I fantasised about us as newlyweds that had moved into her parent’s cottage, sleeping in the same room and raising a family together. On weekends we would drive down to the beach with the children and spend our days rolling in sand and sunshine. 

Oh, how we were happy here. 

She was pure and innocent like a white rose among a world of thorns. Anyone who should dare touch her would only taint the eternal glow that brightened even the darkest places. 

I am her servant.

My heart has known no content for many years. Miss Winters is an unattainable object that only corrupt men would strive to attain. It sickens me how they would ruin her – God, how trapped and alone she would feel. 

***

It was a somber day. The incessant rain bombarded the ill-prepared earth, pouring down to the offbeat tune of booming thunder, merciless to the rage of the lightning. My hair stood at arms from the comfort of my pores, defending my skin against the harshness of the raspy air. Darting across the drenched dirt road, I stumbled through the public library arches and moved toward the front desk to return a book I had needed for school. 

The wind hollered and yowled in protest against the rain. Tucked away in the safety of the library catacombs' an ember gripped my bones, surrounding me in familiar warmth. Miss Winters was sitting with a sizable novel resting in her hand. The weather was harsh, yet she somehow looked more beautiful in the dull lighting.

My body was glued to the bookcases as I shuffled closer to her table. Words could not describe her beauty as she sat reading in the flame's feminine glow. 

My focus on her broke when a shaded figure approached her from the depths of the catacombs. Ayoung gentleman entered; the chesterfield coat and matching vest accentuated his tall frame, he had a leather briefcase, initialled J.S., was gripped in one hand while a spiffy top hat rested in the other. Something about how the band of the top hat complemented the gold pocket watch and made him look refined. His eyes appeared to be a cobalt blue, boarded by a pair of thin and rounded gold frames. He seemed elegant in his mannerisms, a kind soul that would make every woman's heart swoon. 

Looking back, I caught her glancing at her watch. In a poised manner, she began to gather her things, preparing to brace against the cold. I grasped my courage with both hands and stumbled toward her table, this was my chance to make myself known – to gain favor with her. I would finally get the chance to tell her how much I need her, how much I long to make her check blush under my burning kiss.

“Good evening, Miss Winters…” is what I would have said had he not greeted her while she put on her coat, preparing to brave the harsh elements.

No!

I will not. I can’t, she doesn’t know I’m here, she will leave me. No, not after everything I have been through. I’ll be damned if I go back to that retched farm alone. I need her. To feel her hair running through my fingers, her lips on my neck, her waist in my arms. She is to be mine; I have loved her more than time could allow. I want her - I need her. 

He would only ruin her. 

The thought of her with someone else, tainted by the world’s impurity broke my brain. My rose color glasses turned red as she walked out the door with him. 

Before I had known what I was doing my feet were moving faster than ever before, but before I could reach her, I was stopped by an unholy sight. This stranger had gently kissed her gloved knuckle and bid her goodnight, leaving her at the library’s doorstep – alone. 

No one could understand my pain; to watch her every day grow more elegant and purer. Miss Winters was a single white rose among a world of thorns.

hope you enjoyed - trying to figure out if I am any good - thanks guys 🥰😘

[corollaservant]

Introspect // Dabi x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: The past never dies. But it can often be forgotten. (3.4k)

Warnings: yandere/obsessive behavior, captivity, stalking, violence, noncon/dubcon, jealousy, delusion, denial, implied PTSD, deterministic and nihilistic philosophical paradigm, Dabi's POV—stream of consciousness type fic

A/N: wrote this in 3hrs. majorly inspired by (and dedicated to) my fave tumblr writer, new magic wand by tyler the creator and this dabi art 🖤

Happy. You looked happy, that’s what he thought when he saw it.

Not in a way you’d been with him anyway. He didn’t know whether that was for the better. The first thing he thought was you posted him. Of course you would. He was not patched, burnt or looking like someone who escaped the psychiatric ward. Without proper clothing, jumping out of a window, frantically running towards the opposite direction. Was it a matter of appearance? Or did you just not like him enough? He wouldn’t know, you hadn’t spoken in a month. And some days. That’s when you told him you needed space. Seriously, people needed to come up with better excuses, this one was over-saturated. Was it bad he clung onto you? It’s not like you had many friends, all he had asked was more of your time. Your stupid job wasn’t even that important—he never bothered finding out what you did exactly, it’s not like he didn’t care, he just wanted you there. The rest of your whereabouts were none of his business as long as you were not conversing (excessively) with anyone else. Because even then, why would you need to do that? He could do it for you.

He had no actual job, well, classifying as a villain doesn’t get you far in life, he called himself a freelancer. Freelancer in murder and theft, maybe. But he felt like he had a share in serving divine justice. A modern vigilante so to say. Any accidental death was a misfortune, a predetermined fate. He didn’t want to pretend to be integrated in society for you to like him, he was lucky because he didn’t have to. Which then reminded him of how he met you.  

Petting strays at night wasn’t careful of you, especially with the crime rates in the city. But you had done so regardless, he remembers it vividly: You in an alley, on your knees, not caring about the dirt coming in direct contact, extending your hand. The cat was barely visible, he could only make out its yellow eyes. But then, the cat saw him, he knew cats had brilliant vision and it left you, perhaps in thought he had food you didn’t. You turned your head only to take a step back. Not smart, you landed on your ass as you opened your mouth. Did he scare you? Of course, what a stupid thing to ask. Under other circumstances he’d leave. Making fun of strangers wasn’t really his thing, not unless they deserved it, but the cat seemed to take a liking to him. Animals loved him, his mom used to tell him not to trust people who repelled them, it was a bad sign. Animals had instinct, animals could tell. He decided to pet the little guy (or girl?), as he kneeled down and softly touched its head. That was another thing about cats. They didn’t give a fuck about the staples or burnt odor, they just wanted food and the occasional touch. He liked cats. He could see himself in them. Something in the domesticity of the situation must've calmed you down because you fixed your posture and to his surprise approached him. It was still dark, you were still a woman and alone in an alley. 

‘’He likes you.’’ You told him. Had you already figured out it was a male stray? Dabi must’ve underestimated you. Your voice hid a whine, a soft protest but it was not annoyance and he shifted his gaze.

‘’Yeah.’’ was all he said. 

‘’Can I?’’ You asked. Why were you asking for permission, this wasn’t even his cat. 

‘’Sure.’’

You were so close, trying not to scare the cat and also touch him, he noticed. Your finger tried to avoid his but the cat’s head was unfortunately not that big so you eventually grazed a digit over him. You hadn’t flinched back then, hadn’t even scrunched your nose, were you not afraid? Didn’t the smell and appearance repel you? Apparently not, you seemed so invested in getting the cat to like you. It wasn’t like it didn’t. The stray ended up loving you, purring at your touch and looking in your eyes, like a man in love. And maybe it wasn’t just the cat. 

-

Within three days of your first encounter he had you on his chest, in your apartment of course, where else could he have you? He wanted to fuck you the first time he saw you, but the urge wasn’t that violent, which had taken him by suprise. You also did not seem like the type to give it up easily. He’d have to do some mental jumping jacks to get you, he didn’t worry about revealing too much though; he didn't have a lot to say, his old identity long buried away with his sensitivity. He still didn’t feel like hurting you. The first night he told you his name, Dabi, and it was so convincing, he too had believed it. You exchanged trivial information neither cared about and he offered company on your way back. He scolded you for being alone in the neighborhood, like some good samaritan, he laughed as he guided you through dimly lit alleys with zero traffic. 

‘’Want to come inside?’’ You had asked. Already? Were you that easy? But who was he to say no?

Your place was small, as expected, neat and tidy, with a few clothes on the bed, nothing bad. It smelled nice too, he noticed a small plant on the coffee table. How gullible to let him in like that. Dabi imagined how many times you must’ve been wronged in life. But you being you—it was probably something that flew over your head daily. You’d call it compromise, he’d call it stupidity.

He had fucked you in missionary that night, a true gentleman, easing his way inside and slightly towering, making sure the stapled skin under his sternum didn’t touch your sensitive one. You were soaking by the time you stopped making out and he slid a finger inside, warm and enticing, his cock hardened in primal ways. He had softly thrown you on your bed (his definition of soft wasn’t exactly soft, you had let out a groan, was it bad?) and climbed on top. You were looking at him expectantly, your eyes glassy, was that pain or excitement, Dabi would bet bucks on the latter. The way you had shyly parted your legs, not for his cock, but to fit him in between was sickeningly pretty, he could swear he was almost…nervous to slip his cock inside. And he was right, trying to fit it inside failed him two or three times while he pretended to toy your clit with his cockhead. You didn’t seem to mind, his act must’ve been convincing, you were softly moaning and your eyes dared to look at the sight of his swollen tip against your lower lips, was it pretty? He had fucked you as hard as he would allow himself—your body could take it, he had to be honest, the more he stuffed you, the more he needed to drive his cock further into your soft walls, there was no room for play pretend romance here. But you seemed to like it too, wrapping your arms around the bare part of his back, fingers accidentally trailing the stapled skin and groaning near his face. ‘’Fuck.. right there.. D-Dabi! More!’’ More? Sure, you could have more. A patched arm strongly pinned a leg above your head, touching the bed frame, as his stiff and pained cock violated your cunt, he could feel how deep he was and constantly fought the urge to spill already. As for you? Tears from your eyes fell down your now stained sheets as you screamed. Pleasure, pain, honestly he didn’t care much about what it was, your pussy clamping down on him the last thing he felt before he bit down your neck, almost ripping out the skin tissue. His cum slowly trickled out, while both of you panted, each exhale synchronizing with the clock ticking in the kitchen. 

There were no voids you could fill, he knew it, interacting with others proved to be a daily reminder. But there were voids you soothed, pain you healed just with your head resting where a heart used to be. Heart beating irregularly, like his feet in his childhood, with excitement, with a different type of eagerness. These weren’t thoughts he made that night and that’s how he knew he liked you. That night his mind was blank for the very first time, carefree from reality, from the ugliness of living—you had sex with some stained villain, who hadn’t only stained your cunt, but your sheets too, your morals indirectly and heart along the way. These thoughts came to him when he saw the photo. Space. You said you needed space. There wasn’t any relationship established, what the fuck you needed space for? Because now he had found something to give waking up a reason. Someone to regularly satisfy his cock with, someone to take away his thoughts and halt his aimless wandering. And you needed space. How lame. You know what? He could give you space. Indirectly of course. He’d still follow you around, check the whereabouts and conversations, sit outside your house and watch you get undressed. But you looked happy. And he couldn’t decipher in what way. Was he a friend? Who gives a fuck about the guy anyway, why were you smiling like that? You never posted him, that's for sure, you knew in the three months of irregular hanging out (to call it dating would be a joke) that he hated it. And so you never did, even though he wanted you to deep down. Something small. A grocery store visit, one you made when he said he’d cook dinner (he had burnt it). But you never did and now here you are posting with someone irrelevant. 

Murder wasn’t the answer. Stupidly enough it was always associated with morality. But you’d think Dabi would have none of that. He thought murder was stupid. No second of his time ought to be wasted for the next guy. Though he had to admit, he often contemplated whether you’d want this. You didn’t know shit about him. But a sudden murder would definitely have you crawling for protection. And who better than the one who committed it? He honestly wouldn’t go out of his way to do all that. He wanted you organically. It had been a long time since he wanted someone. But you sufficed. You were enough. You never asked, never complained, not even when you’d come home from work, exhausted and dirty and he was waiting at your door. Not even when you were shoved against the cupboards and fucked without remorse—you still wrapped your legs around him and whimpered on his neck. And fuck if that didn’t feel good. He hugged you in your sleep. You’d both sleep in opposite directions, you first of course, so you’d never notice he switched sides and brought a leg over yours, resting his head on your throat, feeling each breath, each pulse. You’d wake up confused at the position, he’d say he didn’t remember. These were the few nights he could reach REM state. No vivid dreams of course, a shipwreck maybe and some elevator descending, lack of control or whatever bullshit he read once. He could still dream though, a miserable reminder he was still human. 

He was always mean. The world didn’t care to mold someone into being nice. What would that even be? He thought nice meant exchange. Be nice and you’d get a pair of shoes. Act nice and you’ll get to watch TV. Treat others with respect and you’d be the family’s topic of discussion over Christmas. Sure, there were selfless people, he wasn’t crazy to think there weren’t a few of them left. You’d be his prime example. And you weren’t even stupid. But your willingness to help and give bordered exploitation. It hit him like lightning. You needed to get away, the real world was doing damage to people like you. If you were with him, you wouldn't have to think twice about being taken advantage of. He’d still be mean, you wouldn’t change that. But at least you’d sleep assured knowing that he’d never, ever demand something from you. Well…besides your presence, though he’d take you as you are, so in retrospect you’d come to appreciate him for the service. 

When he came to pick you up (abduct sounded rough—you’d also want this eventually) you had just finished work. To others you seemed fine, to him you looked exhausted. No need for mask, no need for clothes, he had everything arranged. You hadn’t objected much, he tried the kind approach first, he had only asked you to go for a ride with him in a car he stole, something you’d never know. The place was a dump, a couch covered in dust and a rusty kitchen, but you’d both make it work. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find money. He would, eventually. He remembers the way your eyes widened, what were you expecting, a trip to the countryside for some mimosas? You should’ve known better. ‘’What are we doing here?’’ You had asked, looking him in the eyes, you seemed frightened like the first time you saw him in the alley, it all ends in the beginning of the cycle, such a paradox, he thought. ‘’This is our new place.’’ He cooed as he approached you, you took a step back. There really was no reason for you to be scared, you’d grow to understand the only thing scaring you would be losing him. 

He had tried to kiss you but you protested, pushing him away, a shame really and he wanted to continue with the nice approach. Well then again nice didn’t really exist so it wouldn't have worked anyway. He kissed you, your mouth was closed but not for long before it was forced open, arms snaking around your waist and pinning you to a wall collecting condensation since god knows when. He was on your neck, kissing, biting, frenzied moves really, he needed you more than he needed whatever kept him alive. Three months ago, he stopped thinking. Now, the only thing he thought was you. He dragged you to the dusty sofa, he thought of using his quirk to burn the fabric, but ripping it out came naturally. You were laid out naked and shivering, his hands grabbed your waist—was this warm enough for you? You whispered something, maybe it was louder than a whisper, stop or whatever but he couldn’t listen. He found your cunt immediately, he was almost drooling at the sight, when was he that hungry ever again? Something about your life. People behind. You said something, he didn’t listen. You weren’t that wet like the first time, he understood. Women, they need emotional connection. Maybe a sloppier kiss to get them going. He found your mouth again, forcing you to kiss him back while he gorged on yours, a small movement in your hips, a pad of his finger back on your cunt. Wetter, perfect. He slid up a finger, curling it while his thumb grazed over your clit, you whimpered. That was a sound he could finally register. He’d bring back that smile, but it’d be for him only. One finger turned to two and eventually three, he needed to stretch you out to take him, nothing had changed since the first time, just his eagerness. His cock throbbed in his black pants, he wanted to taste you. 

You moaned and attempted to touch his hair. He didn’t mind but this wasn’t the time. He moved his head lower, spreading your thighs open and spitting on your clit. Spittle dripped down your slit and his index finger trailed it along the entrance, earning him a moan. See, you already enjoyed this too much. This would be your life now on, he’d fuck you till you wouldn’t want another thing. Captivity had a good side after all. He’d treat you so well, he wouldn’t even have to force all that domestic bullshit on you. You’d do it willingly. He eats your cunt out like it's the most sacred meal, sloppily and without coordination, pushing his tongue inside and gripping your thighs forcefully and what is this? You buck your hips up, wanting more, needy little slut. Perfect, so perfect for making him stop thinking. Making him forget. His cock must leak precum, it feels uncomfortable and he wants you to coat his tongue, he really does, but please understand, he needs you. Now. To bother removing his pants fully would be hilarious, he has neither time nor desire to do so, they’re slid down half way, his cock jumps on his abdomen and he gives it an impatient stroke—looking at you always. Let me go. You say, what? Were you stupid? Right before the best part? Right before the start of a new life? Of a life you should be living years ago? Delusional, you’re delusional. ‘’You love me, baby.’’ He tells you and lets his cockhead slip in your entrance, bit by bit until he’s bottomed out and you wince, he doesn’t move just for a second, this should be enough and then starts thrusting without consideration. Like it’s an incentive, like you’re a hole that needs filling, a mere means to an end. You protest a bit more, if you get louder he might have to get violent on you, please understand he doesn’t want this. You’ll get it, eventually. He can’t decipher the look on your face, it certainly doesn’t scream happy like in the photo. 

And then he’s reminded of the photo and a rage is born. ‘’Did he fuck you this good?’’ He spears his cock inside, you are hitting against the arm of the couch, your mouth contracts and you dampen his cock, so he must be doing something right. ‘’Tell me, did he fuck this cunt?’’ He asks and you just moan—are you dumb? Why aren’t you answering? His arms envelop your throat, pressing on the carotid artery as your muffled moans get even more constricted, he spits on your face and demands an answer. Dirty. Slut. Dirty. ‘’N-o’’ comes out your mouth. He hadn’t tainted you? He hadn’t touched you. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He wipes the saliva off your cheeks, it’s so...wet? Are you crying? Why are you crying? He hates it. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He kisses you while he plunges deeper, you groan and try to avoid him, stop doing this, you’re his now, it’s final. ‘’I’ll make you feel better, alright?’’ He breathes out, he knows you like his fingers, he knows. His thumb circles achingly, longingly even on your puffy clit while you clench around him, your breathing is labored, you have to cum—cum now! On his cock, show him how much you love him. A few more strokes and he has you clamping down, more tears, so many tears and you moan out his fake name, with anger maybe or an orgasm high, he can’t tell and he doesn’t care either, it’s enough. He needs to steal a kiss one last time and feel the way you squeeze and soak all around to let his load paint you white, maybe he is like a woman after all, longing for emotion, even when he has to fulfill plain instincts. You don’t talk after it, you don’t even blink, you aren’t passed out, are you? He wasn’t that hard, come on now. He has to remove himself, clean you up, the couch and he the least of his priorities. You need to get accustomed. You’ll love it. 

You never ask. About the photo. About your family. About anything prior. But that’s not something he dwells upon, he doesn’t like to look back. You still sleep next to him, well, there aren’t many other options available, yet you do. You still breathe softly in your sleep, he still hugs you from behind. You’ve become a sedative, a very much needed one. He dreams some days, an elevator falling, a shipwreck. Only, you’re there this time. 

The few days he remembers the dream, he appreciates the company. He can only hope you do, too. 

[moroseprose]

Yellow Emoji OC Asks 🌟

💛 (yellow heart) - What’s your character’s thoughts on friendship? Do they have a lot of friends? What do they like about their friends?

⭐️ (star) - If your oc could wish for one thing to come true, what would it be and why? How would this change their life?

🌻 (sunflower) - What’s something your character has grown out of? Did it happen gradually or was it a drastic change? What caused this shift?

🌙 (crescent moon) - Does your character have a moral code or a set of rules they have for themselves? If so, what made them adopt these morals or ideals? If not, why?

🌼 (blossom) - When a stranger meets your oc, what’s the first thing they notice about them? What kind of vibes do they give off? Are they friendly and open? Cold and standoffish? Is the first impression people get accurate to who they actually are?

👑 (crown) - How does your oc feel about power? Do they hold any? If so, what kind of power and how did they attain it? If not, would they ever want power? How do they feel about those that hold power over others?

🔑 (key) - What’s something your character has never told anyone? Why have they kept it a secret? What, if anything, would make them reveal it?

🍯 (honey) - What are some reasons someone would like or get along with your oc? Are these positive traits something your oc is aware of?

🐝 (bumblebee) - What are some reasons someone would dislike or not get along with your oc? Are these negative traits something your oc is aware of?

🐥 (baby chick) - How does your oc feel about parenthood? Do they have children? If not, do they want any? Why or why not?

☀️ (sun) - What’s your character like at their best?

🌕 (full moon) - What’s your character like at their worst?

✏️ (pencil) - Is your oc an artist? If so, what type (painter, writer, musician, etc.) and what is their work like? If not, what are some of their opinions of art in general and the different mediums of it?

🍋 (lemon) - What’s something your character never got over, if anything? Why did it affect them so much and is there any chance of them ever healing from it?

🏆 (trophy) - What accomplishment is your oc proudest of? Why?

🎺 (trumpet) - Is your character talented at anything? How did they gain this skill and why?

🔱 (trident) - Is there anything your character would kill for? Why or why not?

🧀 (cheese) - What’s the funniest thing that your character has ever done? Alternatively, what’s the funniest thing that’s happened to them?

⚠️ (warning) - What is your oc’s go-to weapon? Do they prefer melee weapons like swords or brass knuckles or do they prefer guns and other ranged weaponry? Do they even use a weapon? Why or why not?

⚡️ (lightning bolt) - Does your character hold a grudge or forgive easily? Why? Would they ever seek revenge on those that wronged them? Why or why not?

🌽 (corn) - What’s the hardest job your character has worked, if they’ve had a job at all? What made it so hard and what finally made them quit?

✨ (sparkles) - What gives your oc confidence? Is it something physical or more emotional? Do they inspire confidence in others? Why or why not?

🎷 (saxophone) - How charismatic is your character? If they have high charisma, what do they use it for? If they’re not charismatic, how does that affect their life?

🔔 (bell) - Is your character perceptive? Do they know when someone is upset or are they not good at reading people? How does this affect their personal relationships?

🍌 (banana) - What is your character’s diet like? Do they cook hearty homemade meals or prefer to eat out? Are they a vegetarian or a meat lover? Are there any cultural foods they’re particularly fond of?

[n0t-y0ur-piece-0f-cake]

Hiiiiii how are you? I wanted to ask if you could do a super spicey one shot where a male yautja ends up stalking a group of girls and having his way with them in various ways, one by one but then when he finally gets to the reader he ends favoring the reader more than the other girls and ends up breeding reader until the next morning and after that he decided she was gonna be his mate 😏

A night to remember

Summary: girls night out went absolutely wrong.

Fem reader x male yautja

Warnings: NSFW, omfg where do I start, uhhh, rape/noncon, breeding, alien in a rut, drugging, violence, death, implied forced pregnancy,,,

MDNI MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

For everyone else, read at own risk.

Not proof read, English isn't my first language and this was written at 1 am.

Authors note: my first reaction when I read that request was literally 🤨🫢🫣😈 I never thought I could be capable of writing this, but it helped me through my writers block, thx <3

Preparations were always hard. But the worse was long done. Now it was only make up that was left. Tonight's Friday night. The Friday night. Where me, Michelle and Tina finally got ready for our girls night out. We planned that date for so long - Prepared for so long. The parties theme at our local club was "warrior". So the girls and me obviously had to go all overboard. It didn't matter if we went overdressed or too hard. This was and is going to be some quality time. We had so much fun putting together our costumes. Even tho it was still obvious they were part dresses still.

Tina's get up was leaning more for a samurai. Shoulderpats, chest plate - yet still revealing, and a kimono type dress - also still revealing.

Michelle was more inspired by knights. Her dress was complement nicely by a chain top and some more sliver plates on her arms and legs. As well as a cute half helmet with a gracious yellow feather. Overall not too revealing, but the dress was still short enough to almost pop her butt out.

I on the other hand? I went for something more primal. Like a hunter. A hunter you'd see in a deep forest in the stone ages. I knew all the fur would bite me in the ass at the club, but it was worth it, of course it wasnt all fur. Just a big patch of fur over my shoulder. The rest? A sweet brown dress, showing off my thighs and what was still visible of my collarbone. I even went so far and got myself a necklace with sharp teeth and some Ambers. Not sure if either were real. It was second hand. I put on some last details for my make up. Painting some face markings.

We were now ready to go.

"Wait! Hold up", Tina basically shouted out, as Michelle grabbed her heels. We all looked at Tina. She held up her arms and looked at us with a devious smile.

"We have to get a shot in, just to celebrate"

Michelle shook her head. "Come on, Tina. It's not that pricey at the club."

I looked between the two. Sighing with a smile: "But we've got to celebrate. Now that Tina's moving away."

Tina jumped up, like a kid, begging over and over. "Pleaaaaase - for me? This once, Michelle?"

Michelle was never fond of drinking before hand. Drinking in general even, only on special occasions.

Michelle places her heels back down. Giving up, for Tina's sake. Tina giggled and turned back to the kitchen. Smacking three shot glasses on the table like she's a bartender. A samurai bartender. Michelle and I smirked with Tina. When she pulled put her vodka, our eyes widen. This really was a special occasion. It was her 10 Liter vodka bottle, that she never opened. That shit cost her a fortune.

We watched as Tina opened the bottle, it emitted a cracking sound. Yes. Freshly open. It was untouched. Until now. She carefully shifted the bottle, trying to hit the shot glasses. It already made her look like she was drunk, spilling the vodka left and right. We all giggled. Tina let out a more nervous one. I couldn't watch her struggle any longer. So I held the two glasses up to the bottles head. Making it easier to pour. Michelle took the last glass and also then held it under the head. Now all three were full and each placed in a hand. We looked at each other.

"To Tina", Michelle said, holding up the small glass up and to our middle.

"To Tina." We all said out like a record. Drinking it in one go. Nothing at first. But then a weird taste emerged. I wasn't really used to pure vodka. Michelle, not at all. She coughed. But quickly swallowed her cough as quick as it came. We all chuckled together again.

"I could go for another one... now that it's open...", the bottle owner said, swaying her hip from side to side.

"No." It came out like a choir from us.

"We gotta get there before 8, otherwise, who knows how full it'll be tonight", I said, already going for the small hallway to grab my heels. Tina soon following with Michelle.

The streets were quiet. Some passerbys still on their way to wherever. We had to pass through a small patch of forest. It was lit. Michelle would have driven. If she wouldn't have drunk something. Michelle struggled in her highheels. Almost tripping every meter due to the uneven ground. So me and Tina went to each of her side. Supporting her. We finally reached the club. A big snake already formed upfront.

Tina scoffed. "Great. Are we too late already? It's not even 8 yet."

As we approached I looked at the snake of people. They didn't move at all. As we stood there at the end now too, I noticed that they didn't even open up yet. A quick glance at my phone showed me, that it was just 7:55. "We're not late, we're even too early-"

I was cut off by Michelle pointing out the variety of costumes. Tina joining in. I looked up. Yes. We were definitely not overdressed. We fit right in.

"This one's definitely a cosplayer", Michelle said.

"A good one at that", Tina chuckled. I turned my head. Looking at who they were talking about. A woman, must be around our age. She didn't dress revealing at all. It was a full set of armor. Maybe that was foam. Who knows.

I chuckled out: "Are we underdressed?"

We all laughed at that.

Finally it was time. And exactly on the clock, the security guy finally let the people in. Another one arrived, helping out, due to the long snake. He must have been waiting anyways.

After a good 15 minutes, we were up. Showing our ID, the insides of our small bags, pockets. I was good to go. Michelle too. "That's gonna be a great night", said one of the security guards as he checked Tina's matching bag. Giving it her back, she smiled at him. She was also good to go.

We turned to her. Confused. She caught on to our mimics. "Oh. Just a couple of bucks."

Inside the party hasn't fully started. No one was yet on the dance floor. More like trying to get settled and drunk enough to try and dance. We grabbed a table. Looking over the room. After some talk about Tina's plans for her new apartment she got silent. We were silent. We already told her so many times that we'll miss her. She knows that. I hope she knows that.

"I'll be right back"

She said. Turning away.

"Where are you going?", I asked her. Having to talk louder due to the booming music and her now being a bit further away.

She mouthed something that neither me or Michelle heard. Michelle shrugged. I looked around again.

"Well. Guess I should leave this shithole too, like Tina."

Michelle furrowed her eyebrows at my comment. "No you won't. Who am I gonna ball my eyes out with at the McDonalds in the drive in, after I had another shitty relationship?"

I look at Michelle surprised with a smirk. "So you admit your ex was a douche?" She rolls her eyes. Not saying another word about that topic: "just don't leave. It's already enough that Steelheaded-Tina is moving away."

Speaking of her, she finally returns. With three neon green, toxic, probably so unhealthy cocktails in her hands. She places them down in the middle of the table. A smirk so wide it's almost unsettling. It's so obvious that she really wants this night to be great. We start sipping on them. Talking about God knows what. Eventually we decided to make our way to the dance floor. Tina wasn't quite done with her drink yet. Still half way. Michelle and I already ready to go.

"Guys wait-", Michelle said, "I'll make a break for the bathroom, Tina, you better zip that unholy brewery up so we can dance after."

I look at Michelle, worried. "Want me to tag along?" Michelle shook her head. "Nah, I'm good."

With that she left. A man and a woman approached us, not long after. They started talking to me and Tina. The man seemed especially interested in Tina.

The woman turned to me. Leaning in closer to my ear after I couldn't understand her first try to talk to me.

"Do you have a tampon?" "Oh yeah"

I said. I always had one. Especially at a party. You never know. I open my bag, searching for it, in the corner of my eye, I spotted how Tina and the guy faced the dance floor. The guys hand on the table. I looked back at the now found tampon and gave it to her. She thanked me. Turning away to reach the bathroom. I looked back at Tina and the guy. They now faced each other again. He was obviously flirting, judging by his face and Tina's reactions. I couldn't hear them at all. It was too loud.

Michelle came back. Rolling her eyes at Tina and her new found partner for tonight. She was as amused as me. But deep down we were both still worried. The guy invited Tina to dance. She said yes, as they both went to the dance floor, we quickly stepped on it too, keeping a close eye on Tina.

Everything went fine up until a bit later. We noticed Tina being more tipsy. More unfocused. I gave Michelle a frown, she also caught up to my sightings. As we looked back where Tina and the guy just were, we were surprised in to see it now vacated by another person.

Our dance came out a abrupt end. Quickly glancing around the room. We spotted them. He tried to pull Tina out of the club, to the exit. Through the mass we pushed ourself through. I was first who made it out, pulling Tina to me. She almost crashed down, if it weren't for Michelle coming up in the right moment to support her as well.

The guy looked at us. Obviously distraught by us intervening. "I just wanted to get her some air."

Michelle and I looked at him. "Yeah right, fuck off." I scoffed out loud. Security already noticing the situation.

"Everything okay?"

We turned our heads to the security guard. Explaing what happened. The guard pulled the guy aside. Telling us to still get Tina outside and let her sit with us until he investigated the guy.

Indeed we sat. On a bench. Waiting. Another security guard was nice enough to give us a bottle of water. Which we made Tina drink, even tho she said she doesn't need it. After a while the other guard came back out. With a sigh he tried to tell us in a most neutral way, that he found some knock out drops a hidden pouch of the guys costume. I tried to remember. Yes. When the guy was at our table, Tina wasn't don't with her drink yet. Only before she hit the dance floor she drank. Shit.

The guy tells us to get Tina home. Maybe call a cab. If her state worsens then maybe even a ambulance. He also told us he'll make sure the police knows about that guy, and he won't ever get in again. No matter the outcome of what the police says. He asked for our numbers, in case the police has any further questions in the coming days.

With that, we were let go.

We phoned the cabs. All of them said they couldn't make it in less than an hour. So we decided to walk ourselves. We'd be home faster. We were three people. But only one completely out of it. This was a quiet town, we told ourselves. The woods were lit, so it was okay, we told ourselves. We walked.

As we reached the woods, Michelle couldn't really walk and support Tina at the same time. So after a few meters she decided to take her heels off. We were slower. But steady. Tina was being held steady.

Now that we were slower, I took in the sounds of the night. The sounds of the dark forest. The chirping of the crickets. The owl hooing. And the slight fresh breeze pushing against us. At least my fur covered shoulder wasn't getting cold.

I looked at Michelle and Tina. Tina almost asleep, yet still walking. Michelle was exhausted. Her face a bit pained from the heel-less walking. I faced back at the path. I tried to focus on what was ahead of us. Our surroundings. But... was I getting deaf? I can still clearly hear Michelle and Tina walking. But I didn't hear any cricket. No owl. The wind was still there. I felt as if the air got heavier. The owl started hooing again. Maybe I was just tired, too unfocused.

We kept walking. Half way there. The lights in the woods path, were still lit. I glanced at my watch again, as Michelle also stopped walking, taking a break. 11pm. As I waited for Michelle to gather her strength again, Tina woke up slowly from her half asleep state. Being all giggly and seeming like a high person. I took a deep breath in. Focusing on my surroundings. We have to get her to safety. The crickets and owl were still at it. Then, a crack. Silence. I assumed the animals would start again, but, the owl took flight. Flying over and away from us. I felt the aid get heavy again. I felt nervous.

"Can we keep walking?" I said, almost stuttering. Almost begging Michelle. Tina jumped off and away from our arms. "Let's camp!"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "No Tina, we can camp at your place. Where we should be right now."

Tina wanted to say something, but we were cut off by a net being launched at me and Michelle. We were trapped. Tina chuckled as she looked at us. "Spidermaaaaaaan"

Michelle was the first one to try and rip open the net, followed by me. "Looksy! I see you, handsome!", Tina cooed, she was turned away from us, pointing into the tree line, where the net came from. Our eyes already somewhat used to the dark, spotted a shape. A man? Michelle now engaged in trying to rip apart the net even more. I looked at the figure, trying to see them better. But it moved all of the sudden, launching himself with a uncanny jump towards the free standing Tina. Snatching her right up. She was pulled into the bushes. We heard it all rustle. "Oooh- manly man-", Tina cooed again, the silhouette of them indicating, she's tracing his stomach.

I helped Michelle. The net seemed unbreakable. Our initial shock calming down slowly, making us finally able to talk. "Oh my fucking god- TINA RUN!"

Michelle yelled. She was in my vision, I couldn't see what she saw. What happened with Tina or who that was.

"That is not a man!" She kept yelling.

"But he's so-" a loud scream emitted from Tina. I pushed Michelle aside as we both yelled out for her. Who or whatever it was, I pushed Tina against a tree. It's form seeming to ram its hips into her. Her screams were parallel with its thrusts. I panicked. Digging under the net with my bare hands. Michelle joined in, but she mined away the dirt with her heel.

"Wait we have a phone-" I went to grab where my bag was. But the bag was outside the net. I leaned against it, trying to reach it, pulling the hard working Michelle with me. She was caught off guard by my sudden move, making her drop. "Hey!"

No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get to my bag. Even when I pushed so hard against the net, it left markings on me. Michelle caught on to me, reaching for her bag that she wore. Pulling out her phone. "THIS MOTHERFUCKER!" She starred at her screen. Empty. Trying to shut it on again, but it shut right back down before 911 could even be dialed. In a fit or more rage and desperation she smashed her phone on a rock. It shattered on the third try. She used the now smashed phone to cut the net. I took a shard as well and also tried to cut it. The yelling and screaming from Tina has stopped. Whatever it was, it wasn't human and it growled in relief.

I made it, I cut through. I quickly squeezed myself through the still somewhat smal gap I made. I ran, a trident was launched at me. Thankfully not piercing me as a tree was there, making me pinned up by the neck against it. My head was too big to try and squeeze my way out, and the trident was launched to deeply into the tree. Michelle had squeezed out too, running for me, trying to undo the trident holding me hostage. My eyes widen, the creature walked up to us. In the dim light, I myself saw, that that was no human. No animal. But a creature. Otherworldly. It wore what seemed to helmet and armor. I screamed out. Altering Michelle.

She tuned her head. I pushed her. "MICHELLE RUN-"

Michelle looked back at me, unsure. But I pushed her again. So she ran. The creature running after her now. Knowing I was pinned. I pushed against the trident again, my sweaty palms making it difficult to hold on. Or it was just launched to deep. Or both. I looked back at where Michelle had ran to. Only to see that the creature had caught up to her. Having her pinned down. She was gasping, crying. It had her pinned by the hip. I panicked again, as it kept smashing against her hips in a unholy force, making her cry and beg, I turned around, facing the tree and pushing my neck against the trident. Thank god it wasn't sharp. I pushed and pushed. It hurt so much, but I did it, I fell back, the top of the trident scraping against my exposed shoulder and arm. The furred shoulder was fine. I didn't mind the blood. I picked up the trident, looked into the direction Tina was, I couldn't belive my eyes.

She was dead. Her thigh, and neck bruised and bloodied. Only then realising, that her body and head didn't add up. It twisted her head and broke her neck.

I took my eyes off her, facing to Michelle and that... creature. I quickly ran towards them, at first it didn't seem to notice me. But as he did, shortly before I could react in time, he got up, I quickly jolted the trident to the side, falling a bit on Michelle. In the short second I laid on her, my head next to hers, it seemed she was still breathing, but barely.

The creature tried to get ahold of the trident. Grabbing it, and pulling it away from me. But I held it firmly. It started to slip from my hands as it used more force. So I quickly pulled my legs up and kicked against the tridents pole, stabbing it at it with my full force. It didn't hit him directly, but a spot that wasn't covered by its armor. It bled. Green. Neon green. As it tried to recover from its injury, I ran. Following the lights, I noticed heavy stomps behind me. They were quick. Close. I didn't dare look behind me. I knew it was... that.

I decided in a frenzy, that maybe jumping between trees might slow it down. So I went off rail, going zick zack between the trees. It seemed to help. For a while. I was still close to the paths lights, just enough so I could see. Just my luck that I spotted a axe in front of me. I abruptly stopped, grabbed it, and swung out. It jolted back, I almost hit it. Almost.

It roared out, angry, I flinched, but still held the axe steady. I once again tried to launch it at him, several times in a span of seconds. It nicked him twice. It growled and roared again, getting more and more agitated, out of no where it kicked me off my legs, making me fall down, before I could react, it grabbed my axe, as well as me, I hit a tree while I stood, a loud thuck boomed next to my ear. The axe was at my neck. I felt out a shaky gasp. I tried to look behind me, but my head was quickly pushed into the tree by its hand. The other toying with my underwear before ripping it off fully, with a single yank.

It got all close. Shoving my hips upwards and off the ground. It didn't matter to it, that it hurt me in that position. My spine felt over stretched. As well did my stomach and soon something else.

I felt its hips shuffle around, the armor plate in front of its crotch scooting over to so he could insert its otherworldly cock. No warning, no lube, no spit. That thing tore me apart with one shove. I screamed out, so high pitched you'd think I was in a Opera trying to destroy a glass. But my high pitch was soon replaced by deep screams, gasped screams. I was trying to get air. My one arm, I pressed against the tree, trying to not get myself killed whenever he pushed back in and could break my neck by this position he had me. The other was at his thigh, rather my fingertips, trying to prevent him from going to rough or too deep. Which was a lost cause. He, whatever he was, was too strong.

He kept pushing and pushing, his speed and force altered from time to time. Already making me see starts. I was already exhausted. Its grip on my head was now a tiny bit more gentle. Letting me look down. There I saw a green-white hued liquid. Which must be what I was thinking. It slowed. As it did so, my hip jolted from all that he's put me through. But to him, it must have been like invitation to keep going. He yanked me around. Facing him, still off the ground. He disposed of the axe by throwing it on the ground.

Before I could try to kick him, punch him, or anything, he held me up, in the air. No tree I could support myself on now. My hips hovered over his. And he let them crash down on his. I whimpered out again, it didn't hurt as much anymore. My fists were on his chest, I was still trying to push him away. As his hips kept rolling against mine, his clawed hand reached up to the brim of my dress, ripping it off. My boobs jiggling intensly with every deeper and faster thrust. I still pushed against him, he grabbed me by the waist and hip, his large hand being able to hold a, to him smaller creature, up like that. I saw the lit path upside down. He kept up his pace, even going rougher. Weirdly enough it felt so good, so good I let out a long restrained moan. No. I can't enjoy this.

But this feeling. Being stretched, filled out fully... the way he hits every spot. Another moan escaped my lips. My fists, now unclenched, grabbing at his stomach armor. His pace picked up. Thinking I'm trying to tell him to speed up. With that my body shivered throughout, I quickly sat myself up again on his hip, one of my hands grabbing at his shoulder. His monstrous pace not decreasing.

I leaned my head against the crook of his neck. The corners of my eyes turned black. And I screamed as I came undone on him. As I painted the green-white hued liquid on the ground with my own as well.

He still kept up the pace, not letting me recover. I insides clenched around his cock, I needed to recover but I couldn't. He wouldn't let me. He now placed his arms on my shoulder. Pinning me to him as he needed to get his rut out. I moaned and whimpered against his neck, everything went more dark by each push. I didn't recognise anything anymore. Just how he felt in me. How he pushed his seed deeper and further up. I didn't know how many times he came. How long he's been going at it.

I woke up again. I was dropped down somewhat gently on the ground. Sat up on the damn tree. I looked down at myself. As he stood before me. Whenever I moved a muscle, as I tried to get up, a big drop of his green-white cum emitted from my pussy. It even appeared that my stomach was more bloated. My thighs being covered in all that liquid. I looked up at him, behind his head, were the trees heads, exposing the now dawning morning sun. Its been that long!?

I watched as he picked up the axe, then me. Me? I was swung over his shoulder. My stomach pressed against it, making more cum blurt out. He walked deeper into the woods. I was too weak to do anything. Too exhausted. He stopped, I looked over his shoulders. My eyes widen at the sight. A otherworldly craft. A vehicle. A ufo? A ufo. And he carried me inside. Setting me down on a chair in the cockpit, putting on what seemed to be seat belts. "Mate", it said in a scratchy growling voice. He turned away from me and started his ship.

My heart stopped. That sure was a night I won't ever forget.

[plathfiles]

lead singer!remus never being one to be public with his emotions but writing the sappiest love song for reader and the fans just go wild!!! everyone just assumes it was james or sirius that wrote it (let's be honest james probably wrote 10000 ballads for lily) until one show remus is just all 'this is one i wrote for my girl' 🥺🥺🥺

GAH 😩 YES OMG OMG !!!

thank you for this love <3

hope you enjoy !!

The Marauders set up their instruments and sound hours ago, practicing as much as they could before their performance. The band had started receiving gigs in pubs and at parties. Already having a few original songs under their belt, they were receiving more attention from local venues.

You had been introduced to the band from a dear friend. Marlene McKinnon was friends with the band and the guitarist’s girlfriend — Lily Evans. Everyone was going to be there tonight. The pub already filling up with university students and local residents from the community. You were in a booth at the front of the venue, squashed between Marlene and Lily.

“I wonder how many love ballads there will be tonight?” Marlene asked, turning to Lily and giving her a smirk.

Lily playfully rolled her eyes. “James doesn’t write that many,” she protested. Although she had to admit, the boy had written a few love ballads similar to those of the 1980s.

You took a sip of your drink and looked at you friends. “I wonder if Remus has written anything?” She asked.

Remus was a very private writer. He would write with Sirius or the rest of the band. You wouldn’t be opposed to having a song about you. But Remus didn’t seem like the type either. Especially with James’ obnoxious guitar skills and clearly Lily inspired lyrics.

As the room got more crowed and the 9 o’clock showtime reared it’s head, the band stepped out onto stage.

Remus was the first to come out. He was wearing an argyle sweatshirt and corduroy pants. It was his signature look and you thought it was very attractive. His guitar was around his chest. It’s bright cherry red color glistening in the light. Sirius was the second to pop out from behind the curtain, drum sticks in hand. James stepped out, almost tripping on a cord. He was usually very clumsy. His glasses were crooked, per usual and his vintage yellow electric guitar was strapped onto him. Peter was the last to get on stage, his glittering blue bass in his arms.

The band did a couple last minute checks, before Remus grabbed the microphone and looked into the crowd.

“Hello everyone. I’m Remus Lupin if you didn’t already know,” he smiled and the crowd cheered. “To my left is James Potter on electric guitar, to my right is Peter Pettigrew on bass. And lastly, on the platform behind me is Sirius Black on drums,” he introduced. With each name the crowd went wild!

Remus looked down at you and gave you a smirk and wink. You felt your cheeks redden and butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“We have a newly written song for you tonight!” Remus said. “This is a love song!”

The crowd cheered before he could finish the introduction.

“Awe here we go again Lils, another one about you,” Marlene joked. You laughed under your breath as Lily took a drink of her beer.

But Remus continued and said something that surprised you.

“I wrote this one,” he blushed, then looking at you. “This is one I wrote for my girl.”

The band began to play the opening notes of the rock n roll song. As he was singing, he was only looking at you. Lily and Marlene cheered along with the crowd. You were stunned to silence, a permanent blush coding you cheeks.

For three minutes Remus and the rest of the band performed a song of Remus’ creation. All about the beauty and wonder that was you.

The rest of the performance went beautifully. With some of their usual set and a couple Bowie covers, they seemed to be over before you knew it.

After the performance you, Lily and Marlene went to meet the band out back to help them pack up their stuff. Once Remus spotted you, he dropped the cigarette he was smoking. He walked to you and pulled you close to him.

“Did ya like the song, love?” he asked you.

You nodded, “I did. I was surprised you wrote a love song about me?”

Remus pulled you in closer. “I meant every word I wrote. And I’d write you a million love songs, now that I have you in my arms,” he replied.

Overhearing the two of you, Sirius groaned, putting some parts of his drum set into the van. “Ugh great! You’re going to make him as bad as James,” he said, looking towards you.

Remus and you laughed, then the brown haired boy pulled you into a sweet kiss. “I’m glad you liked the song. I can’t wait to write you another.” He held you close to him, kissing your forehead.

𝑎／𝑛 ： I hope you enjoyed this. Please do not forget to reblog and like! If you’d like to request anything please send me a message through my inbox. Also my dms are open anytime if anyone just wants to chat <3

[travelingtwentysomething]

✨Are you new here?✨

✨🌚)))))(✨Hailey on AO3✨)(((((🌝✨

🪩 Let's Be Honest, If You Could Hop Dimensions, You'd Save Eddie Munson Too (AO3 // REBLOG // My Art: Eddie in Disguise/Comparison) - A Steddie+Original NonBinary Time/Dimension Traveler Character Fix-It Comedy/Adventure

🌚 Devotion Tastes So Sweet On Your Lips (AO3 // REBLOG) - A Spooky Steddie Horror One-Shot (Maybe Series...) Steve Prays To The Old Gods And Eddie The Banished Answers

🕸️ A Sticky Situation (AO3 // REBLOG) - A Harringroveson x Spideypoolverine Crossover Comedy One-Shot +Inspo Post for A Sticky Situation

—+++—Some Bonus Tumblr Only Ficlets—+++—

+Steve Throws Eddie His Yellow Sweater, Eddie Throws Steve His Vest. It's a Whole Thing (It's Canon. Gone a bit Viral, this one🤘) (Further Evidence: Steve Puts on The Vest and Eddie Checks Out His Ass, Also Canon. + Bonus Canon: Every Time Eddie Puts On His Steve Smile)

+Eddie Realizes Steve Is More Than A Babysitter (w/ Inspo Post Steve Slays Demo-Bats, Eddie Reacts, this one has Gotten Popular, but I mainly attribute that to Steve's Titties 🤘)

+Stephanus Concubinus, Emperor Geta's Vita (a Steddie x Gladiator II au blurb inspired by kingsandsaints ' gorgeous painting of Joe Keery wearing laurels and a white sheet🕊️)

+Rockstar!Eddie, Meets Server Duo Stobin, is an Asshole and Gets His Just De'Soup- Later Eddie Comes Back to Apologize and Gets Steve's Number- Then, A Misunderstanding and a Proposal (An Add-On Ficlet started by two very talented writers sabbathbloddysabbeth and estrellami-1🤘)

+Rockstar!Eddie in a Case of Mistaken Identity Gets Dragged to Dustin's 21st "Rockstar Hotel After Party" Themed Birthday by an Oblivious Steve +Bonus Robin Has Something To Say About That (An Add-On Ficlet inspired by Whathehonestfuk's post🤘)

+Rogueddie Famous!Steddie, Eddie Reads Tumblr RPF of Steve, Steve Gives a Rec (Rogueddie Wrote A Blurb, I Wrote A Blurb, an Add-On Ficlet)

+S4 Cut Scene: Steve Pines For Eddie, Dustin is Excited For Two Dad's, or Whatever, He's Not Picky (Eddie Witnesses This Interaction From Afar, Wonders Fondly, an Add-On Ficlet)

+Steve is afraid to scare Eddie away by treating him 'like a girl,' Eddie is frustrated, thinking Steve just can't bring himself to cuddle him because he's a guy. (Until Eddie opens Steve's closet and a mountain of dead and drying bouquets and boxes fall all around him. An Add-On Ficlet) +The Add On Where They Go From Idiots to Lovers

+Steddie!Little Mermaid AU Blurb-let (It started with a whisper- *Steve Herrington* and ended when Prince Eddie kissed he- er, uh, no wait- that's actually Henry the Sea Witch with Prince Steve's stolen voice... Violence and Magic and A Happily Ever After, Oh My!)

+Eddie Doesn't Give A Fuck About Sleep Paralysis Demon Steve (a bit personal, turned into a Steddie prompt)

📜A Tale in Gifs🍿

—++++—Stories Told in a Montage of Gifs—++++—

+Steve Definitely Doesn't Have A Type: A Steddie Tale in Gifs (+Because I Can't Leave Well Enough Alone, Emotional Damage) (Learned how to make gifs for this post lol took me hours give it some love, my first sort of popular post🤘)

+Eddie Munson the Lunchtime Menace... He Does All His Best Menacing at Tables: A Tale in Gifs (A Montage of Eddie Being Menacingly Innocent 😇👀)

+Steve: If He Fuck Me Good I'll Take His Ass To Red Lobster / Steddie Version / Metal Sandwich Version (🍨⛵🦞)

+The First Time Little Eddie Munson With The Buzzed Hair Gets Called A F*reak, He Is Too Stunned To Speak (Literally, just a sentence ✨with gifs✨ but now I need 100k words, on my desk by Monday morning. Prompto.)

✨everything else you need to know under the cut✨

🪩My Original Posts🪩

#op

+My Singular Piece of Art (Eddie in Disguise/Comparison)

+Jack Whitehall Incorrect Quote/Shipping Gays is the Glue That Holds Fandom Together🤘

+Harry Styles Raps to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Video (if you've never seen this, you're not fully realizing your potential)

+Joe Quinn is Dating Doja Cat? (It only took me a couple minutes to make this gif, skill issue defeated)

+Someone Asked Me "Favorite word?" And I Am A Comedian, So I Said- (you won't regret clicking on this one, here's your first clue that I am hilarious.)

+My Theory on Why Hollywood (And Men™) Thinks All Women Over 30 Are Witches (added to this already hilarious post about the Disney Movie Freaky Friday, your second clue that I am actually the funniest person you don't even know)

🪩Gems You Missed🪩

+ I just realized I caught the GHOST in my haunted house on video 🫥👀💀

+A Break-up Cake Commissioned By Me From The WM Bakery: Mario Kart - "Welcome Back To The Streets" (If We Are Friends, This Is The Kind Of Moves You Can Expect From Me)

+15 Minute Roast Beef and Potato Soup (I make up easy recipes sometimes, ask me about my rotisserie chicken enchiladas with cilantro lime sour cream sauce)

+My Halloween Tree and Blockbuster Wall (About 4,000 DVDs lit up by my Halloween Tree, it's a Spooky Vibe, ask me for a Movie Rec... When I die I'm fixin to haunt the Criterion Closet👻)

+🍯My Dog Honey Watches Scooby Doo / Honey Cuddles Then and Now / Honey Plays Then and Now 🍬 / Honey's Pug-pies: Scooby, Momo, Pickle, and Ponyo

+My 2010 1D Tumblr Origin Story (🤣The true story of how I ended up on Tumblr)

+My Ridiculous Laptop Sticker Collection (feat. Some Steddie Stickers from Raynecreates)

+I'm Allergic to Cats, But I Would Get A Blue Russian to Name Them Comrade, Nickname: Commie (Big Brain Name Game™, Give me some credit and reblog this post🐈‍⬛)

+My High Thoughts About Pyramids (Higher Thoughts💭)

+My Epitaph (My Personal Philosophy, It's A Banger™)

👇Check the #Tags below to narrow down the fun👇

(I go a lil ham with the tags, trying to be thorough, so I'm a safe blog if you utilize tag blocking, search my blog for any of your own interests, you'll most likely strike gold 😂 give it a try if you're curious, or scroll on down and click on a tag)

I RECOMMEND:

#op - posts that I created or I contributed a significant comment to

#personal - if you're trying to see more than just fandom- really get to know me 🥹 also #is it me, #tism, #tis me

#trauma dump and #dream journal - the drama, the tea, the weird dreams that are so ridiculous I had to tell someone, even if it is just shouting it into the void to hear the echo, basically over sharing

#interest - anything that is of interest to me, stuff like #therapy, #linguistics, #anthropology, #sociology, #psychology, #archeology, #movies, #film theory, #politics, basically anything that interests me outside pretty people and shows

#my recipes - I occasionally make up something easy peasy, you like cooking quick churched-up struggle meals?

#thoughts - my own comments/thoughts or posts that made me think, try #high thoughts, #higher thoughts

#comedy - anything that made me #lol

#writing - my own fics and posts I actually contributed commentary to or a lil blurb, or writing inspo and prompts I am interested in, as well as writing resources, tips, etc. #fic prompt

#steddie - probably my most common tag I love them but there's a plethora of tags #steddie art, #steddie fic, #steddie comic

#pretty - it's the boys and the girls and the #aesthetic stuff too

#boys - any of the pretty boys I like to reblog

#femme fatale - pretty girls, alternately #laissez faire

#smile - if you wanna smile, I heard they're contagious and this tag has some beautiful smiles 😁 and a few things guaranteed to bring joy

#spooky - It's #spooky season baby and #halloween is in my veins. We got #spooky art, #house hunting, #halloween decorations, and best of all #spooky steddie

🤌Like this post and I will definitely follow you (*except minors soz)👀

✨REBLOG✨ and we will be ✨MUTUALS✨

[enatopiaa]

Just a fun oneshot that I thought of!! OPM songs give me so much inspiration ‎٩(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)و*̣̩⋆̩*

guys i know Grimmjow is literally in all blue and one would assume its his fav color but hey its for the story okay😔👎

(Bleach) Grimmjow Jaegerjaques x fem!reader ; inspired by the song Dilaw - Maki (ˊᵒ̴̶̷̤ ꇴ ᵒ̴̶̷̤ˋ) i love this song so much !!

Timeline ; after TYBW arc

TW: none! pure fluff ‼️

I originally wrote this in Filipino to practice LMAOO yeah I’m not sharing it… MY GRAMMAR IS SO BAD. Pure pinoy pero mas mataas grade sa english BAHAHAHA

“Ikaw, Ikaw ay dilaw”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

In all honesty, Grimmjow had never given much thought about his favorite color. He was never the type to care about such trivalities, he simply just accepts whatever came his way.

So why did he say that she was correct when she answered the color ‘yellow’ on their small guessing game about his favorite color?

“Is it yellow? I think it’s a pretty color and it’s also one of my favorites!” She answers on her first try. She was excited and smiling like a little child as her eyes sparkled with wonder, he could never admit it, but every time he looks at those (e/c) orbs, it always felt like the world was calm.

He found himself pausing for a moment, feeling something stir within him when she enthusiastically said the word ‘yellow’, the way the word rolled off her tongue sounded like a sweet melody, he felt his heart skipping a beat. He nodded in agreement, it was as if that color infused with her energy and excitement

“Yeah, you’re right…”

From that day forward, suddenly yellow was no longer just a ‘mere color’— It was her, her smile that can light up a dark room, her laughter that always sounded like a song. Every time he saw the golden hue, she was all he could ever think about.

He never had these bothering thoughts and feelings before, he was the former sexta espada, a hollow— he wasn’t supposed to be able to ‘feel anything’ in the first place, his hollow hole was proof of it.

Grimmjow insists that he loathes humans and soul reapers especially that damn strawberry head, but theres this warm feeling that he feels inside every time he hung out with the woman who was never afraid to stand her ground in front of him. A scintilla of something else filling in his void, it was unfamiliar to him, but it felt mellow like the spring day.

He always felt this strange, yet comforting feeling of euphoria whenever they were together. Sure, They may have been enemies and have hurt each other at first when the Espadas were still a thing and Aizen was still around, but ever since the day Urahara paired them up to work together with a few tasks during the invasion of the Quincies, he has been finding himself to slowly enjoy her company as time passed.

The wounds and scars that they gave to one another during their past clashes suddenly meant more than it was supposed to ‘hurt’, the pain it inflicted became a constant reminder of her presence in his life; no longer an act of violence but rather a testament of their history and the unspoken promise that bloomed between them.

His world was once dull and devoid of meaning, mirroring the barren dunes of Hueco Mundo, until she entered his life like a guiding star, introducing him to the vibrant world of the living, for once he was starting to feel more— emotions that he never knew he had possessed as a hollow, bringing color into his world that was once monochromatic.

If he was in a ballroom, she was his dance partner. If he were searching for answers, she was his certainty.

If there was a color to the new light that had been guiding him through the darkness,

She was yellow.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

yeah i said I wasn’t a writer but since this grade level we’ve been writing so many poems and essays I just had to find a way to improve, in a way where i can enjoy LMAO but yeah this is just a practice, i might start writing some more but…🧍

hope u guys enjoyed, its short but I tried😔 Grimmjow is a difficult character to write afterall but i love him still CACKCLING

[error501blog]

Race, Live-Action Casting, and Ninjago

I'll start by saying something everyone can agree on.

No Chris Pratt.

Now that's out of the way I want to state my purpose for this rant. It's to spark discussion. I want to hear other people's ideas and perspectives. I'm one Asian American out of literal billions. I know after typing everything out I'll feel bad, but this feels like a discussion the fandom needs to address. Every perspective is worth considering and thinking through.12

I'm not worried about the casting. Warner Bros. is a big studio that doesn't want any negative press. At least, Kai and Nya are going to be Asian. I'm worried about the other Ninja, mainly Lloyd. But I think the studio doesn't want to be cancelled, so that's not my number one worry. My number one worry is Garmadon. If Garmadon is in the movie, will his skin be literally black? his can be sidestepped if Garmadon isn't included period. But the Hagemans love their emo dad. Still, I don't want blackface Garmadon.

My theory is the casting will have a similar model to what Avatar did in it's live action. There were white voice actors, now they're played by a diverse cast. Kiawentiio is amazing, but not as tan as Katara was in the animated series. (That's a discussion within itself) There was a controversy with Ian Ousley. I'm not going to get into those topics, but they did happen.

However, the worry for many comes from the fact Ninjago is more racially ambiguous than Avatar: The Last Airbender. Almost all the characters-with exceptions being the Water Tribes and Sun Warriors-are Asian. Avatar: The Last Airbender has characters with a variety of skin tones and facial features. Ninjago has almost all of it's characters with yellow skin. Which is typical for LEGO, but feels iffy in an Asian inspired world. The fact everyone has yellow skin lends to an almost race blind world. However, names come from countries. Completely human characters have blond/ginger hair. Lloyd and Master Wu have blond hair. Master Wu is especially weird because he has the aesthetic of the Hollywood wise old Asian martial arts teacher there to help the protagonist. But he's blond.

In a cartoon I can suspend my disbelief. In the show I can't see facial features. Everyone in Ninjago has the same eyes, unless if you're a robot, one of the very few women, or Lloyd. I can live with this in an animated show from the 2010s.

In live action films, there are close-up shots. People will stand next to each other. I know what real life people look like when I'll see the movie. This shouldn't matter to me. I shouldn't care so much, but the history of whitewashing roles in media is too vast. We interpret the world through race.

White is the default in the US. Examples being Ghost in the Shell Warriors TV series. Asian roles for media set in Asia for Asian roles are cast by white people with white people since 1961.

What I want to know is the world of the live action going to be Asian inspired? And the better question: should it?

I don't know.

Ninjago since day 1 has had a tenuous at best relationship with race. It is clearly in an Asian inspired world. Everyone knows Ninjas come from Japan. However, it's just an aesthetic.

The worldbuilding is very Western. If we compare to Avatar again, there is no use of any Asian philosophy in Ninjago. Avatar is chalked full of allusions to Buddhism and Japanese Imperialism. But, Avatar is a more well thought out show than the show where one of the main characters gets sent into another dimension and becomes evil, violates the Geneva convention then is given no acknowledgement and I hate it.

Ninjago when giving us culture that seems Asian inspired to me fails spectacularly. (The Kabuki from Chen's Island. That's a Tumblr rant within itself) The most obvious example being the yin and yang marriage proposals. They have Google! The writers could've gone down an internet rabbit hole for a variety of cultures. But we have this clumsy, "Will you be the Yin to my Yang?" It's stupid and I hate it.

However, Ninjago in the Wildbrain era started to move away from the Asian aesthetic. One could make the argument it started in Rebooted, but I'm saying Wildbrain era to keep this post short. We go to a pyramid in Secrets of Forbidden Spinjitzu. We meet the Ice people from the Never Realm which I think are inspired by the Inuit. I'm not too sure.

Dragon's Rising has done away with any resemblance to Asian culture. Sora is Japanese name, so maybe? But all the resemblance is from the old show. It's a fantasy show. They are a soft reboot. They could make their dragons look like literally anything in this soft reboot and they stick to the Western style ones. It's this big fantasy world, why am I not seeing any allusions Asian folklore?

But can't I blame Ninjago when they fumble so hard when they try. It's a lose lose situation. But research isn't worth it. Is a culture too inconvenient to even research? Because everything seems absorbed from other pieces of American media. Yin Yang has nothing to do with marriage-at least to my knowledge. It has to do with Daoism. There is no research or attempt. The show hasn't done a legitimate attempt in it's full run and that's sad.

We're seeing that when the Hageman brothers write they don't shy away from the Asian aspects of the world. Or maybe there was less understanding of Asian representation when the show first aired so they could do whatever they wanted. (And Wildbrain and Dragons Rising are more popular so have higher stakes if they fuck up too bad) This is racist, but it isn't coming from hatred. It's coming from ignorance. If this came from hatred why make a show about ninjas?

The Hageman brothers have demonstrated ignorance in their writing. I've been saying Asian instead of specific countries because everything is so monolithic in the show. It would be amazing to have this world for a big franchise shown to kids around the globe. (Especially to Americans who might not watch a show with an authentic cultural world if it didn't tie to Ninjago) But that's not going to come from them. It's never going to come from them.

Authentic Asian representation was lost when the writers were picked. I have no doubt there'll be sensitivity readers, but there'll most likely be a cultural erasure. I'm not mad at the Hagemans. I'm not even mad at Hollywood. But I'm disappointed in Warner Bros.

Please respond with your own opinion. If you agree or disagree with any of my points. Hell, if I said something racist let me know. I want this post to get people thinking and talking about their own opinions on casting and writing.

[artnwill]

List of some of my favorite artists

Norbertine Bresslern-Roth: She was an Austrian printmaker and painter who was born in 1891 and died in 1978.

I absolutely love the softness that she captured in her artwork and the personality that shines through in her animal paintings. Her art changed later on into more of a graphical design due to the rise of printmaking and I really enjoy the shapes she captures in some of her later works.

Jessica Taylor: Honesty such amazing work. I'm inspired so much by her amazing knowledge in lighting and how it effects the mood in her drawings and how well it adds to the realism of the subjects she draws. Her social for those interested https://www.artstation.com/jesserintaylor

Franklin Booth: He was an early 20th century illustrator. As a child he would often look for references to study from to learn how to draw. He often referenced wood engravings, which would inspire him to draw in a very similar style but instead done with pen and ink.

Honestly I love this type of art. I have always been fascinated by pen and ink drawings and Booths works really wows me not with just the technical side but also his patience. Even though my hands ache while looking at some of his artworks lol I really enjoy them and just the amount of depth he was able to capture with just lines.

Jean Giraud- He was a French artist, cartoonist, and writer born in 1938 through 2012. He would also go by Moebius and other pseudonyms.

I really enjoy his works because of his use of color and line. Most of the lines made in his works look to me to be done by technical pens which use one single line variation. I also really enjoy how he uses color theory in many of his artworks including the one pictured above to the right, in which he use the complementary colors of yellow and purple with hints of orange that match the blueness of the purple.

So this was just a small list of some of my favorite artists ( if I added more we would be here all day lol) that I get inspiration from. Wanted to write this blog for myself as a nice way to have a place were I can go back and reference some of my favorite artists drawings but also to show others different artists that they may not know of.

[marbarmars-arts]

So...I MAY have been collecting Fawfuls like pokemon cards <3

(and what the heck do I mean by that exactly??) WELL in a discord GC my friend Parmy suggested we’d imitate each other’s art styles as like a collab of sorts? Well...I kinda took that a step further heheh ^^

(And fun fact...this was supposed to be something I was gonna do for AU day of Fawful month too, but that idea got cut due to time)

So may I present...the different Fawfuls I drew!! For my friends/cool acquaintances!

So the one who led up to this in the first place, Fawful from @parmsnik AU!! He is dating/eventually marrying Naspi depending on where you’re at in the AU haha! Your way of drawing Fawful seems to change a little bit each time you draw him, so I tried to my best to guestimate a consistent looking Fawf! Very cute!

Up next is Fawful from @the-spacewaffle AU!! Yippee Ronnie’s AU! Thanks for being my friend for so long,,to talk about Fawful and all that stuff y’know? I’ll be cheering you on to complete the story qwq your Fawful is always so nice to my OCs when we crossover khskdjh also...pet the Reddo!

Eee yay now it’s @snuffydoo Fawful and his AU title I totally made up on the spot! I know you don’t really have a name for that kind of thing and it doesn’t have to be canon but I hope you think it’s cute anyways haha! I had a lot of fun drawing this one!! It’s so stylized! AND IT HAS DIMMY (I enjoy your Dimmy artstyle sm) but I don’t draw Spamton very often kjhskgh

Here’s @federthenotsogreat Fawful AU of sunshine goodness~! HE RETURNITH (and since I couldn’t think of another character to feature with your AU...not knowing if Cackletta is there or not jhgskg I gave him a cute little swirly sun!) I admire the fact his outfit is mostly YELLOW and also blue those are cool colors OH AND THAT LEG TOO, also super cool :)

The smol and cute @omgtheywereroomates Fawf! Your ask blog is so neat! I know I don’t ask too many questions there but I just,,,the cartoony fluffy hair?? Love that, and also thank you for your support and the super cool ship as well ^^ 

Heheee yeah hey it’s @cammiluna Fawful from Immortal Fool! Before you say anything YES I’m aware he’s got the new design since it’s near the end of the comic, you released the page that featured said new design while I was already working on this drawing xD So whoops! I just wanted to give appreciation to your comic series that you continued despite everything, and well...I know I haven’t shown much progress on it, I also want to make a comic series...so you’ve inspired me a lil :D

Deep down here there’s a little AU by @aliencatwafers which features Fawful in the sewers! With the little baby bros!! You’re a very insightful and inspiring writer with plenty of neat headcanons and ideas for the bean! Ik you mostly draw in pencil but I took the colors from your submissions to Fawful month this year and used em here! Hope it looks cool!

This little gremlin here with the two moms is Fawful from @bean-n-shroob ask blog! He looks very silly and unhinged (in a good way) and I hope he’s having a good time since after BIS! I love how round your designs are and Fawf is no exception :D

Last but not least is this VERY soft Fawful from @localdealmaker​ and their AU, whose title I made up too (again doesn’t need to be canon or anything if you don’t want it to be, I just wanted to give every drawing a cute name ^^) I think yours was the most complicated to draw for me but I love how he looks, so squish!! Kaboo is cute too!

WHEW THAT WAS A LOT OF TYPING KSJHKGH but yeah I hope you guys have enjoyed this...I might make another part someday full of more Fawful designs from friends but I AM A LITTLE BURNT OUT...doesn’t mean I didn’t have fun tho!

[tornrose24]

So a fews days ago, @chinirom05 asked me some questions regarding my art and writing, and I told them the question was too good to be just on a DM, because my response might help other creatives/writers.

So to answer the questions...

When it comes to fashion, it really depends on a few factors. Since I’ve mainly done fan art on here, it boils down to ‘What’s the event/time period’ and ‘who is the character I’m dressing up.’ As a bonus, sometimes I try to factor in if I want to pay homage to the character’s ethnicity/heritage (I did this for those TGAMM Aladdin AU drawings for the princess attire).

So I’m going to go WAY back in the past for one example that the CU fandom might recall–remember the CU Tangled AU drawings and fics I collaborated with @princeasimdiya12 ?

While there was inspiration from the movie its based on, I also had to research the time period the movie supposedly takes place in (I think it was around the 1790s if I remember correctly). Edith was the best challenge for this one because there were a lot of dresses to put her in, but I also needed to design them in a way that reflected her character as well as would look good for her body type since she has a plus sized figure. The apron from the first fic was meant to show off her creative side, Her castle dress had polka dots as a nod to her canon outfit, and the ballgown used colors I thought would be good on her–but blue was a necessary element due to her iconic blue eyes. (damn, that was YEARS ago and when I had my old tablet!) Also I loved getting an excuse to research period outfits and creating dresses. George and Harold’s outfits outfits took inspiration from the characters they were based on, but I kept their color schemes and looked up clothes boys might have worn back then.

A more recent example was from the TGAMM fic Her First Forever Friend, and I did do drawings for it, including the example I’m about to talk about. It comes late in the fic (chapter 13, to be specific), but for the moment in question, I wanted to give Molly a new outfit that was meant to be symbolic/reflective of her nature and growth in the story (especially given how limited her wardrobe is in the show). I researched sundresses (or just dresses) for a girl her age, until I found a design I could work with that also looked like something Molly would wear. I also used yellow daisies in her appearance as a theme and for the symbolism behind it (I wanted to use pink lotus flowers at first, but their meaning didn’t exactly fit what I was after). If you’ve read the fic or seen my drawings for the fic (which includes her in that dress), then you’d understand the meaning behind it as well as what the outfit is meant to be parallel to. (Also, if anyone is reading this, do NOT click the link if you haven't seen the series finale of The Ghost and Molly McGee, or read up to ch 13 of my fic.)

If you mean inspiration for fashion… I get it from almost anywhere. For art in general? Well, I started taking inspiration from anime, and then gradually cartoons.

For the writing question… well, it’s not easy. When I have a story, I focus on the ideas and plan things out in my head. However, I might not have the things in between right away, so I might have scenes that take a bit more work to figure out compared to others. There are also some times where I realize an idea might not work so I’ll have to plan it out differently, or I want the story to go in another direction (or I just can’t use an idea).

One good example of this is–again–Her First Forever Friend. I thought I’d be doing a one shot, but it had the potential to be more, so I gave it a go. Here were some challenges:

-Since Molly came to Brighton earlier than usual, how would certain events change as a result? If she’s meant to defeat The Chairman just like in canon, how do I get to that? What’s going to be the big moment where ‘everything changes?’

-Chapter 4. Everyone who read this fic knows this chapter for lots for reasons. As I wrote in my notes, I had a huge decision in ‘who will stay and who will go’ by the end of it. I knew I had a much more interesting story on my hands if I made the choice that I ultimately went with, as well as a really good character arc for someone who needed it… and my readers really enjoyed how that character arc developed. (There’s one line in chapter 6 that best reflects this arc and my readers quoted it in their comments on archive.) In the chapter that came after this, I wanted to put the fortune teller oc in the dream sequence, but I opted not too as it would have made the scene too messy and I needed to keep attention on the three characters already in it.

–When I got to chapter 8, I had an idea of what I wanted to do, but then I realized ‘wait a minute, I’m seeing a problem/plot hole in the future if I just continue forward.’ So I had to give the duo a new problem as well as a way to find the solution–it extended the story to about 2/3 chapters but it was worth it, and I got some good moments to write out.

So yeah, just some examples of my writing process. Sometimes I have things planned, and sometimes I don’t. Especially if I don’t have the entire story arc in my head.

Also, I’ve learned that I need to try to simplify some sentences to make them flow–especially if there’s action in it (a reader commented that my fighting scenes needed shorter sentences to make them easier to read many years back). However, I like going all out on the more emotional moments–if there’s a heartwarming moment in any of my fics, chances are that’s something I loved working on the most and went all out. Also, I’m sorry if you ever need to look up words–I guess that’s the academic side of me wanting to include things that hopefully the readers will look into.

Now if you are collaborating with someone, like I did with princeasimdiya12? There’s a bit of compromise, but I’ve tried to include all of our ideas and put them together. It’s been a long time since I wrote the Tangled CU AU fics and I can’t recall which exact story elements were his at the moment but I made sure to make a note as to which story elements were his. (Also, I’ve seen some collaboration fics where it looks like there’s a scene going on, but everything looks painfully out of order as if the two are writing responses at different or later times, and I can’t handle it.)

Anyway, I hope that advice helps somewhat.

[murasakispace]

[COD MW2 HCS] 141 + Los Vaqueros + König with a Neutral Gender! Writer! Reader

A/N : How come we never see a Reader as a writer in whatever fandom - or am I blind - in headcanons ? I mean... So many people writing amazing fanfictions or headcanons on this platform or everywhere else and... No ? Really ? We’re talking about a military Reader here, by the way. 

TW : none (for once) except the ugly typos you may encounter. Only one very little mention of smutty litterature 

John “Soap” MacTavish 

So... Let’s start with our lovely Scottish sergeant 

It is apparently canon that he likes to draw on a small notebook he keeps with him dearly. 

So he knows. He is acquainted with the ‘writer’s zone’ we flee into when inspiration holds us within its graceful arms. When the images of action flood through out brain when a stroke of genius light up our features and how we appear lost in some kind of parallel universe only us are able to interact with (well... it’s how it looks like for me, feel free to comment - writer or not - how your imagination works) 

However, Soap is mostly aware about the tropes and what we can consider as the technical side of writing such as relashionship dynamics for your characters - if it implies the said relashionships - 

I think he is the kind to prefer roomates universes because of the domesticity he is able to find there and friendship warms his heart. Although, that’s just an impression. 

He is actually the biggest help out of the 141 because when he draws he also uses the codes of his type of creation for his cute doodles you suspect him to scribble on the yellowed paper of his little diary. 

He knows what it is to lack of insipiration, even though he tends to throw his thoughts on the paper and reproduces his surroundings. 

He appreciates the smallest details that compose his world. He notices them all. 

But I digress. 

You two share a world not so accessible for the rest of the team. When you talk about [Insert fiction character of trope here] in a very specific context, the others gaze at you confused. 

More than writing, it is a little sweet thing you two share and you would never lose that for anything in the world.

Simon “Ghost” Riley 

He... Understands... Not like Soap. He doesn’t have that much imagination. 

He gets it is your hobby. It is as valuable as any other activity. 

Simon thinks it’s cute in some way. You, lost in thought, next to him, about and into something he can’t quite grasp. And a sheet of paper or the blank screen of an app on your tablet or whatever device you judged comfortable.

At first, you asked for his help about some details, or his opinion, or his advice. Then, you understood he was too down-to-earth and wounded by his abusive past to allow himself to relax this way next to you. 

Yet, you used your hobby as a way to stay with him as a support. He had just to tug a bit at your sleeve and all your attention would be on him. 

It was the first step. 

You understood quickly that your writing might be able to help him unwind and finally get comfortable. 

You write him silly stories, made for him to laugh, or to smile at least. It wasn’t a big deal, just fables. You have no idea what he does with it. You just hope it enables him to dream even if just during the day like a fleeting thought clinging to him. A distant echo of something nice his heart and his memory agreed on keeping dearly underneath his leaden shell. 

You also may be the one reading your own stories to him. But the mistakes, the inconsistencies or the lack of meaning and every little flaws in your writing may appear much more visible once clearly uttered. 

By dint of effort, you manage to soften him a bit. He doesn’t want to ask you if he could read either what you are writing or if you have something for him. However, he eventually hopes within the depth of his heart that he can flee from reality for a few minutes. 

He is so grateful to you even though he is bitter on the fact he can’t bring you much constructive criticism. 

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick 

Another one who understands one might have such a hobby but he may not relate. 

I don’t see Gaz as someone who reads a lot. It’s just not his thing. He’ll read for sport news or something related to one of his own hobbies. 

I guess he doesn’t have the patience to sit somewhere comfortable and allow his mind to wander this way thanks to your words. 

Except maybe when he desperately needs to unwind and his thoughts are too noisy so he needs to occupy his plagued mind with something totally different. 

However, he is curious about the creation process. 

He’ll ask about your ‘tools’ after you explain to him that your scenario and elements of the story doesn’t entirely pop out of thin air and you may have to rethink and to shape your ideas to make up a story both understandable and enjoyable. 

He laughs when he notices about your nonsensical Internet history. How can it be so weird ? And then, he remembers what kinds of research he does when the night isn’t kind to him and he doesn’t laugh anymore.

Sometimes, your brain amazes him. You sound so cool when you take the time to explain some of your ideas. 

Kyle is awesome at helping you for worldbuilding. He has a lot of imagination when he manages to leave his military universe on the side and peeks at yours. 

He is an excellent beta reader since he is actually very neutral about writing in general and he’ll try to give you the most help possible when you ask him. Too short ? Too long ? Not enough or too much emphasis on a detail ? He just aims at your betterment ! 

John Price 

You are a writer ? Well... As long as you do your duty you can be whatever you want. 

He is neutral with the idea of you being a writer. He is a soldier before anything. And a leader at that. He’ll support you because Captain Dad... I mean... Captain Price always supports his team but sometimes the said team gives a hard time to his comprehension and patience. 

You’re mostly quiet, with music for your ears, typing or penning something on a sheet of paper. Moreover, it seems like you have some sort of natural distance with Soap’s or Gaz’s - or both - usual chaos. 

Price has to say that it amazes him how you are distant of everything when you are in what Soap would call a writer’s fever. 

By the way, he happens to watch over you both when Soap draws and you write on the couch of the common room. If you both eventually show him what you created - if you don’t he will not force you - he’ll gaze at you like a proud momma duck despite his best behavior. 

He is mostly the one staring in disbelief as you use vocabulary, tropes, imaginary events for your own type of art since he can’t understand it even though you all speak the same language. 

Price notices very early you are a skilled writer, or at least you have some experience. The reports he gets from you are probably the best from the soldiers he got under his orders. He might have something to say about the spelling and the shape of your letters if you give him handwritten reports. Depends on you I guess. 

He will not ask to read what you write. You can call that the appropriate distance induced by hierarchy. You remain soldiers. You may as well act like it. 

Sometimes, you’d like his opinion. An outside point of view about your work is always good, no ? Well... John Price has a Ghost syndrome. He is annoyingly ass deep in his military life. Hence, he faces a very limited imagination except when it comes to interrogate an enemy. 

The worst about him is that he could be an amazing beta reader. Constructive criticism and probably giving you ways to improve yourself in what you already are so good at. 

Just give him time. He’ll get interested one way or another. First, you may try to be closer emotionally to him. Might be a good start to go past this military hierarchy and to know what his tastes are to get his heart beat only at the tone of your phrasing with your unique talent 

Rodolfo Parra 

He thinks it’s so cool to have a hobby as enjoyable as he thinks you have just by the way you act when you are writing. 

Rudy doesn’t have the time to delve that deeply into a hobby. Los Vaqueros constantly demand his attention. However, when he gets the time he - like Gaz - tries to ask about the process of writing. He even tries to write by himself. 

You explained about the tropes and dynamics and he seemed to get it immediately. Childhood friends to lovers is his favorite one by the way. 

It was just a little story he came up with. It was the first thing that stuck to his imagination, appearing out of an obscure place of his brain. It was uncertain, somewhat shaky but simple and, in a way, adorable.  

He almost took it personally when you said this small piece of text was just like him. 

However, before you sink even deeper in awkwardness, you dismissed this last interaction and tried to correct him the best you could. 

After that, he was looking forward the little time when you could write with him and he could learn. Another thing, it’s quiet around you, focused, relaxed. Alejandro knows where to find him when he is looking for his right hand. 

He could be an amazing beta reader if he wasn’t so kind. He forgives you everything. “Have you noticed inconsistencies or flaws ?” you’d ask. “Maybe a little something here but I’m sure it’s me” he’d reply. Unnerving, right ? The gentlest reader but you don’t need him to be so nice. You need him to be observant. 

He also comes up with very simple ideas when it comes to writing but his way of apprehending things has something one can’t quite describe. My closest synonym would be a vibe, something like raw talent that only needs to be explored thoroughly. It resembles to cutting a diamond, sharpen the edges to make it glistening and precious. 

His imagination is not too chaotic but his thinking and reasoning develops and fill in the gaps of his originality. 

Anyways, Rudy is amazing. As always. 

Alejandro Vargas 

There has to be one who does not take you very seriously. Well... It is Alejandro. The Mexican colonel is... something else, to say the least. He considered himself a man of action and not a man of words. So, to him, whatever you were doing with those scraps of paper during your free time was none of his business. 

He’ll try some kind of joke with you writing nasty things in the secret of that little head of yours. Two answers now. “No, colonel, I’m not into writing that kind of litterature” would be the first reponse with a hint of scorn hidden behind your deadpan aspect. 

The second answer though... “Yeah ! I write smut ! Now that we’re talking about that, do you mind if I use your features for my next...” and then you proceed to make a very descriptive, thoroughly explained speech about your imaginary Alejandro and what you planned him to do in this small story of yours. The point was to make the colonel embarassed. Although, it worked better on Rudy who went blushing like a tomato. 

If you choose the second option, it will end up in nasty jokes each time you meet each other. This silly game is absolutely unsufferable for everyone making the mistake to listen to you. 

If anything, your relashionship suffers from this disregard. You didn’t ask Alejandro’s appreciation, hardly tolerance even but it left a sort of bitter taste. Rudy is... Kinder. More understanding. 

However, what happens is that you tend to be consequently more distant from Alejandro. It may have been a silly joke about a pastime of yours but writing is so personal that it was as if he made a joke about your own self and this was intolerable. He had no business disrespecting you this way. 

Beyond that, you banished him from your writing process. His opinion, his hypothetical help, what he might like to see within a story - doesn’t matter how silly it may be - he was no part of it. 

If he changes his mind, you’d tend to retort him something alike “Let’s stay in our own field of expertise colonel. Let me dream about my stories. And you, dream about chasing El Sin Nombre. Good fences make good neighbors as one says”. 

Something that also might happen is that Rudy’s new habit of unwinding with you quietly in the common room and having long conversations with you about that hobby you were now both sharing made him feel weird. Alejandro was surely passionate and admitting he’s wrong - at least for this - was no part of his character but this was the proof he should’ve acted differently. The realisation took its time but he eventually accepts the fact he made an asshole of himself. 

He’ll apologise when he catches you alone, writing. Now the question may be about how much time do you want to play with him for having been such an arse. 

Eventually, Alejandro learns his lesson and he even asks you to read what you write. When he’s done, he is so silent, gawking. You laugh at him. 

König 

Our gigantic, adorable Austrian operator is a book worm. It’s horrendous. The heavy bullying he has been a victim got him to be safe between the shelves of library. The scent of old paper and the calm of the library got him out of his skin, journeying between worlds out of his appalling daily life. He was typically the dreamy, lonely kid who had characters inside his head as sole company. 

So yeah. Books mean relief, respite, getaway for him as well as a way to heal himself from the pain he received from his classmates or whoever hurt him in his younger days. 

He doesn’t have much time for reading anymore and these books are a little too bulky for the small package he was allowed to have. So having you near him is like a blessing. He can talk out his thoughts.  

Beyond writing, it is the vibe around you that convinces him to sit next to you in the common room. He tried to make himself small, to not take too much of the couch but you couldn’t deny his thigh touching yours. You raised your head and smiled at him. König did not utter a single word, already flustered to fail at conversing. But, as time goes on - and after numerous times he just sat next to you enabling himself to move a muscle - you made most of the conversation. He felt almost immediately at ease. 

You two daydream together now, talking about little things always related to writing or reading. It is also a way to relax after close calls and the danger of being killed. 

He is the KING at worldbuilding. König has always several ideas coursing through his brain. His mind is sometimes chaotic, full of details. He gave you the impression once that telling the history of one of this world would create a great saga on it own. Moreover, König is so passionate about these little bouts of thoughts put together. 

He is also very aware about tropes and dynamics. His favorite of the latter is the small protector x the big shy character because he can relate. And he also has a soft post for a good ol’ mutual pining or a hypothetical love at first sight - as unlikely as it seems in real life - 

He doesn’t try to write with you though. He knows he is not too good at this, which is weird considering the tremendous amount of time he can spend while reading. Although, König knows he may have a chance if he writes in German. It depends on you being able to understand him or not.

König is also a dissatisfactory beta reader, different from Rudy though. He doesn’t dare utter what he judges as flaws because he thinks he’d lose you. He is so happy to be the first reading whatever you are working on because it makes him feel so special. 

He always supports you and tries to relax you when pangs of frustration creeps inside your mind because your writing doesn’t go the way you plan it to be. 

Just like with Soap, what you two have is not understandable by the people around you. What’s more is that König’s anxious nature tends to keep you both distant from the people outside of your little bubble. 

[betweenthings2]

16, 14 and 8 for the writer asks 🙏🏻

Thank you for the ask!! The ask list is here if anyone else wants to see it =) You've done a dangerous thing and let me decide what fic to talk about, so I'm going to go with Roadkill because a) I love her, b) I've been thinking about Roadkill a lot lately, c) it's been almost a year since I published it and d) there's more coming for both The Big Light and Learning How to Lose a Thing I Never Laid a Hand On, but do feel free to ask me to answer these or other questions about those fics or a different one.

8. Did you cut something out of the outline or an early draft? What was it and why did you decide to cut it?

Roadkill had no outline or early draft. There was one draft that is 78 single-spaced pages, typed in 11-point font in Microsoft Word that I barely edited. I think I ran spell check and grammar check then ignored most of the suggestions. Every big idea I had for Roadkill is in it. There was dialogue that got cut along the way, but it's been so long that I don't remember what it was and I didn't save it. There was going to be more about fictional!Matty trying to detox at home, I think, and maybe there should have been, but as I've said before, I'm very conscious of the fact that some of what I write exists on the edge of 'misery porn' and I'm trying not to write miserable stories.

14. Talk about the fic's opening scene & how you approached it.

The opening scene of Roadkill was the first part of the fic I wrote, and is as it is for a couple of reasons. The first is, of course, the song "Roadkill." The fic was inspired by the line, "140 when I last got weight and I'm gonna lose more by Saturday," so they're in Texas because of the song. I was also getting ready to drive across the country when I started the draft and therefore thinking a lot about driving across the US and the idea of big sky country and the limestone fence posts in Western Kansas. The Great Plains are beautiful, but theres a particular kind of emptiness to those freeways that very much influences those fist 1500 or so words. Also, I had been craving that bright yellow, American movie theater microwave popcorn for like six months, so, that's what that's about. You can't tell me that popcorn is bad.

16. Talk about the fic’s biggest moment & how you came up with it.

I think that the biggest moment among a lot of big moments in Roadkill is the bit kind of towards the end where things come to a head with fictional!Matty's disordered eating and using and fictional!George gives him the option of a detox unit or getting clean at the studio. I think that was the natural place for the fic to go at that point. Fictional!Matty had been hospitalized several times, relapsed, been to rehab, and nearly killed himself at that point so there was nothing left for him to do. He'd hit rock bottom over and over again and there was no where else for the fic to go except up. I think I also had the ending written by the time I wrote this scene so I knew where I was trying to take things and this fit.

[glngrbred]

On inherent stories and worldbuilding

OK so the title is pretentios but you looked at it right? cool

I legitimately would realy apreciate it if you read or loosely read this, this project is very important to me and I've worked alot on it. Thank you for reading at all, go drink some water, love u <3

anyways, Im making a cardgame right now, like MTG but hopefully monotized in a more ethical way. like, as a 1 time purchase or subscription.

So, In my game there is a very heavy emphasis on ecology, and it is basically explicitly environmentalist propoganda, that's not the point tho, what we are trying to do initially is trick people into thinking about environmental issues with cool worldbuilding. And on that worldbuilding, as lead desiner/writer person, I think I can actually share some pretty good tips.

Some quick background, not super important. In our wold there a 4 color identities, wich is both for gameplay (mtg inspired) and lore (also mtg inspired) Red, white(yellow), Green, black(purple), for each of wich is a place on an alighnment chart and teirs within the factions represented by these colors. again, like MTG

On that topic, of the factions and identities these card colors and gameplay elements represent, I have some tips for Dms and other worldbuilders.

My main thing, Is inherrent stories (built in stories).

As an example,

The Orks in my world are reptilian hominids obsessed with fire. As a starting point my desire was to do a new type of Ork, where we maintain the motif of chaos alighned "Monsters" who's actions serve the bad guys, like in WoW or LotR. from there I knew that my red faction was fire themed, but building up this concept was kinda hard for me. I didn't really know hoe to start with meeting this desire while subverting the typical Ork tropes.

So I decided to take the aproach of working from first my desire to have a fire ascociation. I Already had a theme of the main humanoids in my world being ascociated or related to specific animal groups, Goblins have similarity to anteaters, elves bees, and Dorvs beetles and grubs. So I knew the first step in my Orls was going to be Making them some sort of animal.

And i had a good think on that, you know I landed on reptiles. wich seem obvious in hindsight, but at the time I was very excited about this, since it meant there was already a clear connection to be made with fire. since most reptiles cannot regulate heat on their own, a connection to the sun and fire is very easy to make. Especially for a hominid species. Already we have a peice of a narrative, Orks love Fire because they need it to survive cold days. Wonderful, now how do we get that ascociation to chaos and subvert the typical barbaric Orks trope?

My first thought was inspired by Warhammer greenskins, wich isn't super subvertive, just giving orks big techy robots doesn't do much to change the ascociation with brutish methods and uncivilized nature. I knew I wanted to make the Orks more equal intelectually with my other factions, instead of having them be the mindless other bent on chaos. So the step after "Ork like fire" turned out to be their philosophy

What I ended up going for was in my opinion pretty original,

Orks, Due to their reliance on Fire, developed a culture and Philosophy built on the nurturing of "Warmth." Warmth takes many fors for the Orks, they find it in Art, Music, magic, and love. Family and play and Food, and even war. Where the Orkish philosophy deteriorates as a method of governance it the often single minded focus on what makes an individual feel good, and forgetting that other people, even those that don't seek warmth, have needs and desires too. By creating this intrinsic societal issue, where governance ends up focusing on how to make one's tribe as warm as possible, we can create narratives about how desperate poorer comunites are for warmth, how creative they get, and how even bad, and evil deeds can be seen as a positive as long as they bring warmth to your tribe.

We can have wars and espionage and gatherings and beutiful ronmances all built around this pervasive desire for individual pleasure. And we can have stories form when an Ork realizes that the Goblins they've hurt also want good things, and how the Orks realize that their selfish behavior makes the world less warm for everyone. We can have stories about nurturing empathy in a selfish society, and stories about becoming closer to one another, of seperating one's self from those who use them and hurt them.

Also, with this narrative, Orks turn into warbands of bards, preists, and mages, keen on nurturing warmth and helping their ingroup. WHOA we just subverted the barbarian ork trope didnt we? HORRAY ALL OF OUR GOALS HAVE BEEN FULFILLED BY ONE DESCISION SPIRALLING!

Of course perscribing concepts and personality to individual characters based off of their race is a horrible thing to do. but for a group it's very usefull to narrow down concrete adjectives and emotions that are associated with your societies and cultures.

My Advice to you, is try to find your Ork bards, but don;t start there. Think about how society would form around the 4 legged Praying mantis men your story is about, and how different a society could be based off of the physiological environment your characters exist in.

My second peice fo advice, Is that If you want to make a specific type of civilization, As an example, hive cities (like warhammer), try to think about what typre of culture would develope that city? who would live in the underwater Utopia, who would work in the sugar mines, and why do the sugar mines exist? I know It can be increadably difficult to find an angle to take your worldbuilding, so start with 1 small descision, an easy one, like "Do I want my orks to be colorful?" Answer that, then build from there.

final note, Yes, this is an extremely long post, and thank you for reading it,

also ...

👌

I, ME, HAS gotten you HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA *evil gnome voice* You hAVe but THIRTY MINUTES to get someone else before you ARE IT for the rest of your life MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

[ohelpthekraken]

I've been looking at some of the behind the scenes stuff for The Sea Beast and there's some really interesting stuff!

From the first hour of "The Making of Netflix's 'The Sea Beast'":

Chris William, the writer & director's original idea was for a movie called "Jacob and the Sea Beast," where the plot revolved around Jacob rescuing and returning a baby that had been stolen by Captain Crow.

Crow died in most iterations of the script.

N.C. Wyeth paintings were used as design inspiration

The ships are described as "fully functional" and realistic, and the character animation is more controlled then traditional animation

The color script is very intentional. The theme of "us vs them" is portrayed in red vs green. Yellow symbolizes anger and corruption and features in Crow's scenes more as the movie progresses.

[This is why Red being red is so important!]

Maisie's character design beginning was in Hushpuppy from Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012)

Real textile samples were used as reference for the costume

Clay sculptures were created as models for the creatures. Red's (and Blue by extension) design were kept simple to be more friendly and relatable, in contrast to the 'scary' Brickleback and crab.

The Inevitable has spikes to deter tentacles. The swivel guns have engravings, the porthole covers have creature moldings, and there's ornate details everywhere!

The jungle on the island was inspired by prehistoric forests.

The skeleton in the throne room is held together by gold braces.

Castle Whiterock's predominant architectural style is Baroque (theme of domination over nature).

Out of 43 sequences, only 4 don't have water in them. out of about 1500 shots, there are 800 ocean shots and 719 shots take place on the Inevitable.

The sails are accurate- they are rigged appropriately and move in accordance with the wind

With The Buoy System, the roughness of the ocean can be adjusted (according the the Beaufort Scale) and everything will act accordingly.

There are 40 unique outfits for the Inevitable crew alone. Furthermore, all of the crowd character attributes (hair, skin, outfits, body type, etc) are completely swappable and were randomized- creating diverse crowds.

The system for the wrinkles in Into the Spiderverse was retooled to create depth on the character models .

Character animations were specifically created to seem within their respective abilities. The emotional performances are more subtle and mature than in traditional animation.

Most of the movie was animated during the pandemic from home offices.

From "'The Sea Beast' Animators talk the devils in the details":

The creators worked with sailing consultants from Master and Commander to reach the goal of “earning street cred with sailors."

The ropes were the hardest to animate, and a whole new tool was developed to do so. Joshua Beveridge, head of character animation, says: "Ropes contain complex regions of slack that come and go, it piles up, it self-collides, drags against objects around it. It’s hard to keep it looking like rope in animation where there are no real physical properties, and the character has to interact with it a lot."

[I read somewhere that there were around 5,000 ropes but I can't find the source]

Additionally, new animation methods were created to create realistic motion at sea, both for objects (The Buoy System) and characters (The Sea Legs).

many animators set up physical spaces in their homes to capture an accurate look and feel, from ropes to swords to the animation director diving into his pool to act out drownings.

[my-own-walker]

Can We Have Real Talk For A Moment

Hello followers and people who find this through the "even peters" tag.

My name is Grace and I'm @/my-own-walker on tumblr.com. I'm 22, use she/her pronouns, and my favorite color is yellow, I think.

Now that a formal intro is out of the way due to my feeling comfortable enough to do so, I wanted to come on here and talk for a sec!

Let's make this blog more personal, huh?

So, as you may know, I started on here mainly writing oneshot-type request-based stories. Through writing those, I realized that I really like to put a lot of detail into my stories. Like, a full-on backstory for the simplest of prompts. My ass could not break out of that.

Because of that, I was inspired to write a full-length fanfic. I read one back in 2019 that was over 100 parts and it changed my life, I'm being so serious lol. It was rich, descriptive, and based entirely in real-life history.

All of that to say, I really love to involve as much detail as possible in the things I write.

That being said, I have a full-time job, and I am a lazy motherfucker.

I go to work all day. My job is very writing-intensive. In fact, that's what I am, a writer. So sometimes, when I get home, I don't want to write a thing.

SOOOOOO, even though I promised you all I'd write imagines/fulfill requests in conjunction with writing Someone You've Never Seen Before, I haven't exactly kept up with that. So for that, I apologize!

However, I don't want to burn out, so I will continue with the way things have been for the time being. Again, I really like to put thought, time, and effort into my stories, so each chapter of this fic takes me multiple days sometimes.

Thank you for your kind words, patience, and support. I love this account and this side of tumblr, so I wanted to finally get personal.

Hope you enjoy what I put out in the coming days!

Grace xoxo