#ask writing

[ryuzatodraws-archive]

Do you have enough brain juice to write Copia getting stuck under something and some mysterious Papa coming up behind him and having some fun? Lol Consensual of course.

Tag : copiia, voyeurism,nsfw

For the nasty anon

He was unfortunately stuck at the windowsill, the window had became unlatched and had fell conveniently right between his waist as he was ducking out to save the vase on that was perched on the window sill.Copia didn’t succeed as he watch it fell right into the bushes below.

“Cazzo…” he tried calling for someone … the ghouls or siblings are just too far away. Now he’s unable to move.

He did however hear footsteps approaching behind him. He wiggled his hips “ ah satanas! Thank goodness! Please help me, I’m stuck!”

The figure didn’t reply , Copia can see his shadow remained behind him.

“Uhm, hello?” Copia isn’t sure who it is but he wiggled his hips again in a last attempt of moving the panel.

He did however felt like his hips were being grabbed , clenched by the figure. It seems like they were wearing something…like a pair of gloves but Copia couldn’t make out who it is as he feels his ass being slowly kneaded by the figure.

The new Papa blushes as he holds onto the something on the outside, his face paint covers the redness blooming on his face as he can see a few siblings walking closer, waving at him.

He waved back of course and trying not to moan so loud as he can feel the kneading getting harsh, grabbing him until he can feel his pants we’re getting undone and pulled down.

He blushes again and pauses, he knows what’s going to happen next, “cazzo…” Copia holds onto the windowsill as he can feel his asscheeks being kneaded again, rougher, the fingers digging into his skin as Copia can feel something…something close to his hole.

He wasn’t thinking when he tried to nudge closer, legs somehow spreading wider than before as he welcomes the strangers length into him. Copia let out a moan before he covers his mouth. He kept watch at the ghouls walking by as the figure eases his length inside him.

Was it a ghoul? No their touches are different. He knows the figures are wearing gloves so it must be a Papa, but who?

He couldn’t think as Copia can feel his length being grabbed and stroked into the rhythm of the thrust. He holds onto the edge of the window sill and arches his back, moaning loudly for everyone to hear

Oh how badly he wanted to moan, he wanted everyone to watch him as he’s getting fucked by a Papa behind him. He could feel the figure getting rougher as he was pushes against the window. Copia’s eyes lulls back into his head as he whines loudly, begging for others below to look up at him. His body presses against the glass panes as he was close

The figure grunted as he quickens his pace, he can feel Copia trembling as the Papa came in his gloved hands.The sensation made him choke on his moan as he came inside Copia, bucking in a few thrust for good measure. Once he’s sure he’s done, he pulls Copia’s pants up, laces him and with a pat on his ass, releases the latch on the windowsill, sending Copia to slipping back in as he sits on the floor.

The new Papa only caught a sliver of green robe as he tries to catch his breath . His length trembles with excitement as he hitched.

“I-I guess th-that was it” he was only left with a newfound kink on the floor as he smiles to himself

[trulyvisceral-blog]

Reddit's being a lil bitch, so I'm asking here in hopes that somebody'll read it and maybe care enough to respond.

I'm writing a story wherein there is a certain McGuffin, specifically it's an eldritch metal of sorts. The main gimmick with this metal is that an eldritch horror was tasked with making it indestructible in our 3D universe, and its solution was to make it have no energy transfer whatsoever. No kinetic, thermal, electric or *any* sort of energy can interact with it. Now, I think I am scientifically literate enough that I got most ideas down on how this horrid thing would interact with our universe, but I wanted to make sure nothing slipped so I can keep the logic consistent, so I am asking just in case.

Another important detail is that the MC, upon losing their arms trying to get rid of a *different* eldritch horror, was rewarded by yet *another* entity with strangely enchanted stumps, which upon contact with any metal will immediately make new fully functioning arms from them. This is *very* important to what I'm asking here.

Thus, I got the interactions more or less down and I'd like any clarification if I got something wrong here:

* Since light can't be absorbed by it, it'd constantly glow a blinding white as it is all reflected, unless it is pitch black. I am unsure how it'd interact with ultraviolet or infrared light.

* It'd be at a constant absolute 0, as no thermal energy can be transferred to it at all. This *should* also make it immediately disintegrate but shhh, don't worry about that.

* Since gravity has no hold on it and it can't be imparted any kinetic energy, it'd simply stay perfectly static in place, and since the Earth is flying through space, it'd carve a path through it as the Earth can't move it at all, and there'd be this weird glowing white thing just floating there for the rest of eternity.

* No electricity can flow through it, so it's a perfect insulator I guess.

* As limbs for the MC's weird eldritch stumps, they can't feel anything, no touch or temperature. They'd also be completely weightless.

* Since no Kinetic energy can be imparted into it, the arms would go through *anything* without any resistance. No material, no matter how tough, would stay intact upon any sort of contact as all the kinetic energy, as well as the atomic forces, are reflected back with 100% efficiency.

* This would also mean hoisting, holding themselves in place or breaking their fall is impossible, since if they tried to grab anything whilst falling the object would just break as if it was made of styrofoam.

Am I missing anything here? What other interactions would it have?

[sanguinifex]

You gotta read and watch some old books and films that aren’t 100% modern politically correct. I’m not saying you should agree with everything in them but you need to learn where genres came from to understand what those genres are doing today and where media deconstructing old tropes is coming from.

Also, more often than you might think, they’re not actually promoting bigotry so much as “didn’t consider all the implications of something” or just used words that were polite then but considered offensive now.

Kill the censor in your head.

[valtsv]

being someone who's passionate about their interests when you're a horror fan really is a special layer of hell because every interaction you have with another person where the conversation turns to your hobbies and personal entertainments is a trial where if you show too much unrepentant glee at getting an opportunity to talk about your preferred subject you get to watch them mentally move you onto their list of untrustworthy individuals to avoid in the future in real time

[deception-united]

Writing Tips Master Post

Edit: Some posts may be deleted

Character writing/development:

Character Arcs

Making Character Profiles

Character Development

Comic Relief Arc

Internal Conflict

Character Voices

Creating Distinct Characters

Creating Likeable Characters

Writing Strong Female Characters

Writing POC Characters

Building Tension

Plot devices/development:

Intrigue in Storytelling

Enemies to Lovers

Alternatives to Killing Characters

Worldbuilding

Misdirection

Consider Before Killing Characters

Foreshadowing

Narrative:

Emphasising the Stakes

Avoid Info-Dumping

Writing Without Dialogue

1st vs. 2nd vs. 3rd Perspective

Fight Scenes (+ More)

Transitions

Pacing

Writing Prologues

Dialogue Tips

Writing War

Writing Cheating

Worldbuilding:

Worldbuilding: Questions to Consider

Creating Laws/Rules in Fantasy Worlds

Book writing:

Connected vs. Stand-Alone Series

A & B Stories

Writer resources:

Writing YouTube Channels, Podcasts, & Blogs

Online Writing Resources

Outlining/Writing/Editing Software

Writer help:

Losing Passion/Burnout

Overcoming Writer's Block

Fantasy terms:

How To Name Fantasy Races (Step-by-Step)

Naming Elemental Races

Naming Fire-Related Races

How To Name Fantasy Places

Ask games:

Character Ask Game #1

Character Ask Game #2

Character Ask Game #3

Miscellaneous:

1000 Follower Post

2000 Follower Poll

Writing Fantasy

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.

[ellierenae]

write unpublishable things. it's good for you.

[bruciemilf]

Need a teen! Bruce au where he’s exactly like Justice League! Batman and Battinson in one. That mf put the fear of every god in Ra’s Al Ghul.

Everytime he’s in a room with someone over 30 “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance plays in the background.

Despite that, in his own way, he’s as gentle as can be with his league. Give me a young Diana who’s getting spat on and ripped apart by the media in a way not one of her male teammates get.

And she’s Wonder Woman. She shouldn’t be affected by it. And she is, anyway. Bruce relates to that in an uncomfortable degree.

“When I first became Batman, weak men tried standing in my way, too. “

“And what did you do?”

“I stepped over them.”

He has a tiny Robin he occasionally has to keep on a leash.

Give me somewhat teen mom Bruce who struggles to wrangle his unruly six year old who likes flipping from rooftop to rooftop and thinks fighting Bane is a piece of cake.

“If Tati can do it, so can I!”

“Dick,” he paused, before handing him a handfull of candy. “Wonderful emotional manipulation. Good job.”

“:D”

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[spyres-moved]

[ryuzatodraws-archive]

"You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" With C2 ft. Antichrist Copia? 👀

-cracks knuckles-

He may be an anti christ but he’s still a Babygirl

Tag : copiia, blowjob

It was a mistake not knocking the door. He should have known it better but it slipped his mind. He didn’t expect that Secondo would return that night.

What a mistake it was to be wearing his tight leather vest with his tight pants that evening , he didn’t bother to change as he opens the room to Secondo’s wanting just drop off his letters on his table.

But instead he sees Secondo’s on the expensive armchair, a hand down between his thighs as he strokes himself. He didn’t stop for a moment before Copia comes in. A smirk emerges from him.

“Papa I-I didn’t expect f-“ Copia mumbles, his face paint hides how red his blush is.

Secondo releases his grip and watches Copia who seems like he’s going to run off anytime soon. “Now Copia, you may be the anti christ but you still need to have some decency.

But Copia couldn’t. His legs heavy as he keeps staring at the Papa’s cock twitching eagerly. Decency? Says the man in the skull paint presenting his hard penis at him?

The new Papa gulps and nods, he may be the anti christ but somehow Secondo seems to have quite a grip on him, his eyes still planted on the other’s twitching length.

“You’re here to finish me off sweetheart?” Secondo nonchalantly shifted into a more comfortable position, the creaks of the leather under him , how his shafts moves and sways , his barbell piercing just below the tip of the head shines from the desk lamp.

“Si” Copia nods, he’s salivating in his mouth as he can feel his own manhood pressing against his pants.

“Come then”

The new Papa scrambles on the floor , planting his face into Secondo’s cock as he starts with soft kisses before taking him whole. The Papa grunts for a moment, holding onto his head as he starts to move his hips inside Copia’s mouth.

“I miss that mouth of yours, ragazzo.”

The anti christ looks up at him with puppy eyes as he keeps his hands away from himself, only eager to please Secondo. His own hips slowly moving on its own, humping the air

It didn’t take long for Secondo to jerk himself further into Copia’s mouth without a warning, pouring his seed into his throat. A muffled grunt and Copia came in his own pants, thighs shaking as he slowly releases himself from him.

Like a good boy he swallows what remains in his mouth as he remains on the floor like a dog.

“Good boy, now off on the bed. Show Papa how much you miss me”

Copia nods and slowly makes his way on the bed , stripping himself from his clothing , his own length leaking with his seed as he takes off his pants, a string of cone left on his thighs. “Papa…” Copia looks at him with a pleading face.

The former Papa didn’t protest, he simply stood up and makes his way to the bed as well, pining Copia on the sheets. “Have you been a good boy when I was gone?”

Copia nods with a smile “yes Papa”

“Very good” He leans in kissing his mouth deeply, tasting a tang of saltiness coming from him.

“Stay the night with me.”

[aurumacadicus]

I don't have the words for this but. Art and science are always hand in hand.

The perfectionism of artists has them researching stuff in a way that only scientists can compare. Some artists become experts in biology or anatomy. Other special interests have them going down rabbit holes to make them better at their art.

Disney animators said "we are perfecting the code for this snow if it kills us" and researched and invented code until it acted like real snow in Frozen and snow scientists were like hey. Did we just fucking solve the Dyatlov Pass mystery. And the animators answered no. We made snow. YOU applied the knowledge and did the experiments to solve what could have happened at Dyatlov Pass.

And it was a team effort because of course it was. You can't have art without science. And you can't have science without art.

[littlelightfish]

This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.

Idk, I love this man so much...

[comicaurora]

What are some of your favorite tropes that you have to hold yourself back from for fear of overusing it?

it would've been slightly less personal to ask me what my organs looked like

[unboundprompts]

body language descriptions please?

(eg: she cocked her head)

thank you 💗💗💗

Body Language Descriptions

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Anxiety/Nervousness

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her fingers tugging nervously at the fabric as she struggled to find the right words.

They bit their lower lip.

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze, a clear indication of his guilt.

She absentmindedly rubbed her neck.

He chewed his nails, a nervous habit that he couldn't seem to quit.

They rubbed their hands together nervously.

He tightened his jaw.

She felt beads of sweat forming on her brow, betraying her calm facade as her heart raced.

Frustration/Impatience

Their fists clenched at their sides.

He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table, a clear sign of impatience as he waited for her to finish.

He rolled his eyes, the gesture full of exasperation as he dismissed her words.

She let out a heavy sigh, the sound heavy with resignation as she faced the inevitable.

He threw his hands up in defeat.

Curiosity

He leaned forward in his chair, eager to hear more, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical as she questioned his intentions.

She tilted her head slightly.

He watched intently, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in every detail of her story.

Confidence/Assertiveness

He stood tall with his shoulders back, projecting confidence even in the face of uncertainty.

They sat on the edge of their seat.

She gestured wildly, her hands moving animatedly as she tried to express her excitement.

He stood with his hands on his hips, exuding an air of authority and control over the situation.

They held their chin up high, projecting self-assurance even in the face of adversity.

Defensiveness/Resignation

He crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive posture that spoke volumes about his discomfort.

He braced himself against the wall, a protective stance.

She folded her hands in her lap, a sign of restraint as she fought the urge to speak.

They shrank back slightly, their shoulders hunching as if trying to make themselves smaller in the face of criticism.

He held his breath momentarily, steeling himself for the inevitable conflict he sensed was coming.

She covered her face with her hands, overwhelmed by the situation as she tried to block out the world.

Thoughtfulness/Concentration

She furrowed her brow in concentration, her mind clearly racing as she tried to solve the problem at hand.

She nodded slowly, processing the information, her expression thoughtful and contemplative.

He stared blankly into space, lost in thought as he processed what had just been revealed.

He drummed his fingers on the table, the rhythmic sound a sign of his deep contemplation.

She tapped her foot lightly, her mind racing.

Eagerness/Excitement

He paced back and forth, his restless energy manifesting in the constant movement as he considered his options.

She bent forward, her elbows resting on her knees, a sign of intimacy and engagement in the conversation.

She swayed slightly from side to side, a subconscious display of her nervous energy as she waited for the verdict.

He bounced on his toes, his excitement palpable.

She jumped up and down, a spontaneous display of her joy that couldn’t be contained.