#been goin through them with various ocs and canon characters

[itsafreetrialofdeath]

(((He only ever wants to sleep with himself. What's better than the devil you know, eh?)))

[jeffersonhairpie]

One of the YouTube comments of all time oh my GOD

Found on this video

[Image ID: A YouTube comment from user @sire-dame-sander It reads:

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as promised here in MY Insane Cats Fandom Story. formatting this greentext style bc it’d be fucking unreadable as a big block of text - be me - cats the musical fan, dumb teenager - in groupchat with several other cats the musical fans - our number one group activity is keeping up with this one fanfic, “the silver protector and me” - it’s 70k words of munkustrap x the author’s self insert oc - from the moment you pick TPSAM up it’s not great from a writing perspective but the further you read the more unhinged the plotlines get - everyone can shapeshift into normal cats with no explanation. the main character is french n everybody else is incredibly aroused by it. all the girl cats frequently body shame the main character for being too skinny. the love interest is abusive towards his son because he thinks he might be gay. there’s a bunch of sex slavery just like an insane amount - this isn’t really that alarming to us. obviously the author might sort of be goin through it but at the end of the day it’s just a fanfic - however. there is also an author’s note at the end of every chapter where the author (we’ll call her jazzie after her self insert) shares wayyyyy too much about her life - we learn a bunch through these. she’s british. she has a terrible ex. she loves the guy who’s she’s currently dating but he hates cats the musical. she’s been to cats the musical 115 times. she has a 7 year old son - she also links her instagram + tumblr. maybe this was a dick move of us but being teenagers we check them out - jazzie’s instagram is pretty normal other than the fact that everyone but her looks miserable in every photo - whatever. they might just have resting bitch face - jazzie’s tumblr is CRAZY - we discover that she’s been in several bona fide large scale scandals - you name it jazzie has posted it. most recently she’s gotten in trouble for comparing the traditional body modification of various unrelated african cultures to, and I quote, “dumb bimbos getting too much plastic surgery” - she’s also fighting on a daily basis with people who hate her fanfic over its various Issues, including one heated debate with an actual sex trafficking survivor - about a week after we start checking in on jazzie’s tumblr, she posts that she’s going to be taking a break n moving all her mutuals into a discord server - this server will also house the live drafting of new chapters of TPSAM - being idiot teenagers we decide we HAVE to get into this server to watch TPSAM get drafted live. its siren song is far too strong for morals to assuage us - in an attempt to gain mutualhood before jazzie leaves for good, I create my cishetsona - her name is abi n she’s a 17 year old girl living in indiana who loves only two things: cats the musical and her homophobic 23 year old fiancée who works in his dad’s garage - she’s a closet tuggoffelees shipper as well but she openly ships mistoffellees/victoria (which is for some reason the default straight ship in cats even though victoria canonically hooks up with plato. no I’m not sure why either) - abi begins participating in the cats the musical fandom by posting annoyingly heterosexual content - within one (1) week, this has gotten her into jazzie’s discord - a few of my co conspirators have played the same trick. there’s maybe four or five of us in there - inside this discord we are exposed to fandom drama we never even knew existed - jazzie frequently complains to the server about her current boyfriend. she hates how much he dislikes cats the musical, n hates even more that he’s always telling her to pay more attention to their kids (plural) instead of writing cats the musical sex slave fic - do you remember how I only mentioned the 7 year old son earlier. this is the first mention we hear of another kid - the next day something terrible happens

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- we MEET the other kid - he is 12 years old n he is a SERVER MODERATOR - this means he’s been fully privy to the active drafts of his mother’s super explicit cats the musical sex slave fanfic - apparently nobody on the server was aware this moderator was jazzie’s son either, because her genuine mutuals seem just as shocked as we do - at this point one of the real mutuals snaps n tells jazzie that while she loves TPSAM, kids shouldn’t be anywhere near it. a good half of the server enthusiastically agrees with this - jazzie takes this as a personal attack on her parenting abilities n the server fucking implodes - a couple days later the whole thing gets taken offline - abi gets a message from jazzie apologizing for the whole situation n thanking her for not attacking her like everyone else - I don’t have the energy left to tell her abi isn’t real, so abi says “thank you. it’s no problem” - there is brief discussion of reporting jazzie to some kind of authority, but we decide that’ll probably only make it worse for her kids, so we don’t - we figure she got the message to not involve her preteen son in the drafting of her sex slave fanfiction when all of her friends left her - TPSAM has not updated since. I really hope it’s because jazzie stopped neglecting her kids for it - it’s for the best she stopped. I hope her family is doing better now - but frankly I’m a bit sad we’ll never get lines like “can I cum in you?” “oui!” ever again

/End ID]

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

If I Go, I'm Goin' On Fire - Part 2 (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Trapped in her Sight, unable to pull herself out, Delphia tumbles through visions of the future that she does not want to see. But what if there was someone, somewhere, who could help her before it was too late?

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC / Squad Family & OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 3513

Warnings: ANGST (like I'm so sorry), multiple character death (not canon tho), canon-typical violence, gore (blood, burns, gunshot wounds, a singular car crash), various weapons mention, suicide mention

Timeline: April 2022

if i go masterlist

A/N: I'm even more terrified to post this one it's so different and sad and please like it i beg you

Whiteness. Like a cold, icy, baron landscape with no end and no sun. Wait — when did this happen? Hadn’t she just been standing in the front garden, waiting for Abner with trowel in hand? No matter. Must have been an accidental slip.

Delphia concentrated, tried to focus on her self in the present. In the back of her mind, tugging at her like a forgotten dream, she heard Abner’s voice:

“It’s me — Abner. Er….We gotta get weed-eating so if you could just stop doing that now that’d be cool.”

Yes, go towards that, she prompted her mind as she felt — like a ghost on her flesh — Abner shaking her shoulder.

The whiteness faded from her vision like dissipating smoke. But she wasn’t back in the front garden with Abner.

She was in some abandoned warehouse. Drab and dark and dilapidated, lights from a bustling metropolis shining through the broken windows. Most definitely not their country house in North Carolina. There was water dripping somewhere. The drip drip echoing off the glass and concrete walls. There were old crates and wooden pallets tossed about the large open room. Tarps draped over certain areas like they hadn’t even finished building the place before deciding to call it quits.

“What the fuck?” Delphia mumbled to herself.

Why had she not gone back to the present? To her actual body? She tried to concentrate again but it was as if that entire world was blocked to her. She could no longer hear any noise at the back of her mind or feel the ghosts of those around her physical form. A sickening feeling dropped low in her stomach.

Was she stuck here?

A howl of pure anguish ripped through the quiet of the warehouse. And after nearly jumping out of her skin, Delphia edged slowly towards the noise. Unsure if she even wanted to see what was happening in this future. But then she saw a white and polka-dot patterned costume hanging mid-air and she froze.

Abner.

No, no, no, no. She didn’t want to see this. Not this. He was strung up from the ceiling. Hands and feet clamped up in metal shackles. The dots. Oh, God. That interdimensional virus — it was eating him alive. With his hands and feet covered, he had no way to expel them. They were burning away at his flesh from the inside, creating colorful acid-burn lesions all over his body.

“Why are you doing this?” Abner shouted as he wreathed.

“I like to call this — “ A man with a beard and perfectly coiffed hair stepped out of the shadows. “Prodding the bear. Your little super family has become a ripe pain in my ass. And you — you just so happened to be the easiest one to capture.”

“They’ll come for you, you know?”

“Oh, yes, that is the plan.” The man nodded. “For them to come seeking revenge and I’ll pick them off one….By….One.”

“You plan fucking sucks,” Abner laughed before groaning in pain again.

The man cocked his head to one side. “And why’s that?”

“Because — “ Abner picked his head up from his chest and stared down at the man, full of malice and determination. “How do you plan on living through killing me?”

Delphia watched, horror-struck, as the glowing dots beneath Abner’s flesh grew and multiplied. As sweet Abner, so quiet and caring, screamed in agony. No — he was doing this to himself. To stop the bearded man. But still, Delphia couldn’t stop the protest that fell from her lips just as the dots exploded from Abner’s flesh. The warehouse began to fall apart — support beams melting and tarps caught on fire. There was no sign of the bearded man or Abner. Even the very shackles that held her friend in place were gone, reduced to molten metal.

“No, no!” Delphia screeched as she looked around desperately, “Get me out! I want out!”

Her mind couldn’t focus. Wouldn’t focus. It was only this future she didn’t want to see and the pained grief that gripped her heart. This couldn’t be Abner’s future. It couldn’t be. He was safe in the squad house with a good job and plenty of books to keep him occupied. What had made him put on his suit again? Who was this bearded man who wanted him dead? Who was this super family that he had mentioned?

That was, until she felt a distant but sharp slap against her cheek. Delphia put a hand to her skin that stung like a distant memory. There was a similar sensation against her other cheek.

Then Harley’s distinct voice at the back of her mind as she stood in a burning room: “Dee? This ain’t a time for playin’ games. You gave Abner and me a good scare — so you can stop now. Very funny. S’a good prank.”

Concentrate. Concentrate. Concentrate. Harley. The house. Of course Harley slapped her. Harley. Harley. Delphia screwed her eyes shut. Yes! Whiteness. But then she heard the loud rumble of a car engine.

And when she opened her eyes again, she was sitting in the passenger seat of a speeding sports car. Sliding through the streets of what looked like Gotham at breakneck speeds. Delphia gripped the door handle tight even though she was in no true danger. Though it certainly felt like it as the car drifted around a sharp corner. There was a cackle from the driver’s seat. Delphia snapped her head over to see Harley at the wheel, a wicked grin stretching her red-painted mouth and a fury in her eyes.

But this wasn’t the Harley Delphia knew. This Harley was manic, even more than usual, with short-cropped pigtails dyed red and black. With new tattoos and fresh bruises on her face. She was escaping something. Delphia just knew it.

“You can’t catch me!” Harley sang out the window as she chucked a live grenade behind her car.

Delphia watched, dumbfounded, as the grenade went through the slipstream the car created and went under one of three vehicles that were following them. It exploded with a ball of fire and shrapnel. Sending the car up into the air to land on its top with a sickening crunch.

“Holy shit!” Delphia yelled.

The other two vehicles remained hot in their pursuit, however.

A cellphone began to ring over the din of the engine and Harley picked it up with a smile. “Oh, hey Flag.”

Rick.

“Yeah, I made ‘em pretty mad. You guys ready and waitin’?” She looked behind her at the following cars. “I’ll be there in twenny seconds.”

But then Harley slammed the gas through a red light intersection. Not even noticing the incoming semi-truck honking his horn. Thinking that she could make it. Delphia braced for impact, her shoulders scrunching up around her ears and a scream echoing around her skull. One that couldn’t possibly be heard as the truck rammed into Harley’s side of the car.

Glass flew in every direction. Tires slid against concrete as the truck tried to come to a screeching halt. Blood spattered across the spiderwebbed windshield. And all Delphia could do was sit there and watch as Harley’s skull caved in and her heart stopped beating. A wicked smile still etched into her face.

A strangled, desperate cry cracked like a whip from Delphia’s mouth as the car and truck finally came to a stop. Harley’s lifeless and limp body laid right beside her. All horrible and mangled and blood-soaked. With ragged, groaning breath, Delphia slid through the car door and out into the street.

This couldn’t be. This couldn’t be it for Harley Quinn. She swore against a life of crime. She — She had a job she loved, she was planning her bachelorette party, she was happy and free. Not driving speeding cars through Gotham being chased by goons. Delphia fell to her knees, unable to look away from the horrific scene. She didn’t want to see this. Didn’t want to see this tragic end.

“Please stop,” she whispered, trying to concentrate on the present, tears streaming down her face, “Please make it stop.”

“What a lucky accident, eh boys?”

It was the bearded man. And from the looks of him — he had survived the warehouse explosion with Abner. His beard and hair only growing where his glistening burned skin would allow.

When the scene blurred and changed again, this time to an underwater landscape, Delphia gave up. She felt like her insides had been scooped out. All hollow with nothing left. She had been able to stand seeing all that death before because, at the end of the day, she could leave those visions of the future behind. She could come home at the end of the day to her warm apartment. To Rick. With his kind, gentle eyes and loving arms that made it all seem like forgotten dreams. But this. There seemed to be no way out of this. No matter how hard she tried, the visions wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop seeing the deaths of those that she loved most.

She was trapped. Just like her biological mother all those years ago. Her greatest fear come to life.

Defeated and tired and full of an ache that she couldn’t prescribe to anger or fear or sadness, Delphia curled up in a ball and hid her face in her arms. It was better to only hear the visions than to see them. A tactic left over from her childhood when she had so little control of her powers. To only listen as Nanaue was murdered by a man wearing an orange and turquoise suit. As Cleo was left alone to die in the streets of an unknown city. As DuBois was shot dozens of times in the middle of a forest where no one else would see.

But then, quite suddenly, she was laying on a hardwood floor. Wait. She knew this hardwood floor. Delphia sat up instantly. Yes, she was right. She was back home! There was that familiar set of stairs and the white-painted foyer that she only finished decorating last week.

Was she back? Was she really and truly back? Hope lifted in her chest like a flower freshly blooming. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she rushed from the foyer to the living room.

Rick was sitting on the couch. Yes! She was back!

Delphia opened her mouth to call his attention, to rejoice with him. But all sounds and feelings of joy died in her throat when she noticed the state of the room. There was dust coating all the pictures on the mantel. The couch was tattered and stained. There was a white cloth over Rick’s favorite armchair. And Rick….

He looked thin. Worn and beaten. His sunken eyes looked puffy with tears. His beard had grown out. And in one hand he held a nearly empty bottle of whiskey and in the other, he had a crumpled photograph.

No. She wasn’t back at all.

“Rick?” she whispered quietly as she approached him.

“Dee,” he mumbled, jaw quivering, “I’m so sorry.”

He was looking at the photo in his hand. Delphia edged just a bit closer. It was her in the picture. She could remember when it was taken. Their vacation to the beach a few years back, before she had gotten so burned she had to stay inside for the rest of it. In the photo, she was sitting on a rock, sunhat held on her head due to the wind, red hair going every which way and a smile bright on her face. She remembered Rick telling her that it was his favorite picture of her. She remembered seeing it folded up in his wallet from time to time. It made her smile every time she did. But now it only made it feel like she’d been shot straight in the chest.

Rick straightened up, dropping the whiskey bottle on the floor as he tucked the picture away in his shirt pocket. He must have heard something that she didn’t. Delphia turned to see a group of men in black military uniforms, rifles raised and pointed at Rick, walk into the living room. And from behind them, in strutted Amanda Waller.

“Waller,” Rick scoffed as he settled back into the couch, “Shoulda known.”

“Glad to see I didn’t take you by surprise, Colonel.” Waller smirked.

“Why’re you here?”

“I made a mess.” She shrugged, looking around at the house. “I’m here to clean it up.”

Rick stood to his full height. Still so intimidating and strong looking despite his current state. “You call what you did a mess? You killed her!”

“I didn’t kill Delphia Holman, Colonel. You’re the one who did that by getting her pregnant.”

Delphia placed a protective hand on her belly. No. It couldn’t be.

“You’re the one who didn’t say anything — who didn’t tell her that — that having a baby would kill her. You knew and you said nothing.” Rick stepped closer to Waller, a fire in his eyes like Delphia had never seen.

“I knew that was what happened to her mother. I did not know that would happen to Delphia.”

Rick snapped. With one step he had Waller’s throat in his hands. The armed guards swiftly reaimed their weapons. But Waller told them to stand down with a flick of her wrist.

“I could kill you. Right here. Right now,” he hissed between his teeth.

“Hasn’t that been your plan, Colonel? Isn’t that why you sicked all your deranged dogs on me any chance you got? Shaving them down until there was nothing left. Just you in this big ole’ house.” Waller narrowed her eyes and smirked. “And besides — she made you too soft to kill.”

Rick tightened his grip. His voice came out mangled, like a broken thing too weak to stand. “I loved her.”

“I know.”

Waller pulled a pistol from behind her back. And before Delphia could even blink, pressed it under Rick’s chin and fired.

“No!” The word was yanked from Delphia’s throat violently.

His blood and brains went so high it spattered the fucking ceiling. The entire top of his skull was blown out into little pieces. Rick fell back to the floor with a deafening thud. Hazel eyes wide open.

“No, no, no, no — Rick!” Delphia cried.

She scrambled to the floor, holding his head between her hands. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen those lifeless eyes staring back at her. But she couldn’t run from this. She couldn’t go back to a Rick filled with life this time. Her hands trembled as she stroked his cheeks. She couldn’t feel the flesh and hair of his physical body. She couldn’t feel him. All she could do was weep and beg herself to be released from this hell.

Shaking, she watched as Waller wiped her fingerprints from the gun and placed it in Rick’s hand. Then she said casually to the rest of her team, “Fix the blood spatter — and put gun powder residue on his hand. Rick Flag killed himself alone in this house after the tragic death of his fiance and unborn child. Make it happen, people.”

Then Waller walked out. Delphia looked back at Rick’s unmoving chest. At the blood there and the imprint of his dog tags through the fabric. He gave those to her for her to wear once. When she first moved into his apartment and he was going away on his first mission. Apparently, after her death, he had taken them back. Every breath was a burden — a wheeze or a groan. There were no more tears. Only a sorrow so whole and all-consuming that even the truly wretched wouldn’t wish it upon their enemies.

The guards — with ARGUS stitched into their tactical vests — closed in on Rick’s body.

“No! Get away!” Delphia barked, all snarling teeth and wicked rage as she curled herself around Rick’s form.

And something happened then that Delphia didn’t notice. A white ether, like flashing smoke, emanated from her. The guards immediately jumped away from the body, looking around at one another in horrified confusion.

“The fuck was that?”

It was all too much. All of it. It was as if a darkness was welling up inside her. A hatred. A sorrow. An impossible terror. It rose up and up her throat until it escaped from her in a scream. Blood-curdling and ringing in the guard’s ears.

So loudly they clapped their hands on either side of their heads in hopes to make it stop. The white ether exploded from her again in a thick ring. The guards gave a shout of surprise and fear. And then to Delphia’s eyes — it was all whiteness again.

Delphia sat up and looked out over the expanse. The neverending white. So this was her fate. Her mind to be stuck in visions of the future while her body withered away. While the child she carried inside her faded along with her. Which would then cause the deaths of everyone that she knew and loved. A future set in stone, it seemed.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she cradled her barely formed baby bump in her hands.

“I’m so sorry — little one,” she whispered shakily, “You didn’t deserve this.”

However, the whiteness was beginning to fade. As if she were being moved through some invisible tunnel. The edges going from pure white to grey. And suddenly, she was somewhere else. But like nowhere she had ever seen before.

It was definitely a room. That much she knew. With grey, metal walls and floors that danced with ripples of light like reflections of a crystal clear pool of water. Delphia looked up and yes. There was a glass panel in the ceiling with water on the other side. What was this place?

“We’ve been expecting you, Delphia Holman,” a deep voice spoke.

She looked towards what could only be the front of the room to see four creatures sitting before her. Four aliens. They looked near enough to humans. The only difference being their pure white skin, flat noses, and scaly ridges all along their body. Delphia was too shocked to form any words.

“You just destroyed your first timeline. How does that feel?” another of the aliens asked.

“I — “ Delphia cleared her throat awkwardly. “I what?”

“With your power, Delphia Holman, you have destroyed a timeline for this dimension. Made all that occurred on it from a certain point forward cease to exist.” The alien who spoke narrowed their eyes at her. “Are you aware that you’ve done this?”

“N-No.” She got shakily to her feet.

“How were you feeling just moments ago when this event occurred?” The first alien questioned, waving their hand in front of themselves, drawing a piece of white ether with it — looking at the mist as if it could tell them something.

“Sad,” Delphia instantly replied, “Alone. Scared.”

“Makes sense.” One of them nodded. “These are strong emotions — strong enough to bring about such an event in someone with…Latent powers.”

Latent powers? The fuck?

“No — no. This just proves that humans are too emotional to have our abilities. We never should have allowed our kind to stay with them.”

“I agree. Our power is too great for such a sub-standard race.”

The first alien to speak, seemingly the leader of the group, smiled down at Delphia. Though it did nothing to comfort her in her mounting confusion. “I believe the humans to be the perfect heirs to our power.”

“Um, excuse me?” Delphia piped up before their bickering could go any further, “I just — um — who are you? Where am I? And can you get me back to my body?”

The lead alien smiled again. “We are the Lords of Time — an alien species that visited your planet some time ago to bestow our ability to see and wield time itself onto the people of Earth. You are on our ship, wheeling through space.”

“We can see you and speak to you because we exist both in the present and the future.”

“We came to Earth seeking a species that could possess our abilities with all fairness and a lack of prejudice — not wanting to use these powers for their own gain. We are the only four left of the Lords of Time.”

“And yes, we can turn off your Sight — as you call it — and put you back into your corporeal form.”

“However,” one of them spoke with a glare, “You must prove that you are worthy to have these powers. If you do not prove yourself we will send you back to the abyss and let you rot there. Killing off the last of your bloodline and allowing us to start anew.”

Delphia had no further questions. Only one simple utterance to make:

“Shit.”

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments of this series, please let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother

[beesatthedisco]

How does this even work...

Okay, so I’ve been on tumblr since before the first time they very slightly changed the shade of blue and I hope that in and of itself is enough to help y’all know... I’m ancient. (I’m 27, and will only rp with ppl 18+, sorry friendos)

Somehow, despite being on tumblr and despite having made about a million accounts for various things in my day, I’ve not made an RP account, and don’t really know how to get started. I guess I’m just gonna put down what I know about myself and what I’m looking for here and hope for the best, but I’d be open to any kind of protips from those of you who have been using tumblr to find rp for much longer.

RIP to your eyes ahead of time, this is a long post. If you want to skip to the part where I share my Original plots, pairings, and fandom cravings, please just scroll to the end and accept my humble apologies. (Highkey I copied this out of my google doc, don’t shoot me.)

I enjoy writing both original plots and fandom stuff. When RPing within a fandom setting, I'm open to playing as canons, as ocs, or any combination of both. I'm open to co-creating settings inspired but not based in fandoms, and open to playing AU or canon settings as well. When originals are involved, I prefer co-creating our worlds together, so we're both invested in the landscape that our characters inhabit. Speaking of characters- I'll play as any gender and in any pairing type- I hope that this is the same for you. I love writing a broad spectrum of characters to keep things interesting for myself and to practice viewing the world through different perspectives. I feel it's difficult to do this when being forced or pigeonholed into writing as a gender you DEMAND of me. However... I can be flexible, and if your ideas are interesting enough, I may just give you what you ask for anyways, haha. I'm perfectly open to playing multiple characters, whether it's a broad interactive cast of mains and background characters, a system of noninteracting or separate sets of doubles, triples, you name it, or whatever other configuration of multiple-character-playing you prefer.

I'm not too terribly concerned about post lengths and am open to writing with people who might be new to the RP scene. I'm pretty flexible about how much I'll write. A good rule of thumb for myself is that I tend to respond with more when I have more to work with. That doesn't always mean that there are more words on your post for me to respond to; instead, I mean that if your post has enough ideas, inspiration, and momentum, I can go buckwild with my posts. My comfort zone seems to be around 4-6 paragraphs per post, but I've been known to write either a lot more in particularly thrilling rps. If I'm writing a huge post- don't feel daunted or expected to match length. I love all sized posts!!! I'm just overly enthusiastic and get carried away sometimes. (This means you can also at any time tell me to chill out on how much I'm writing. ) When it comes to writing style, I only have a few hard expectations of you- I do not engage in roleplay featuring the 'would' style of writing. (For example: "She would pick up the rock and inspect it closely.") I don't exactly know why I dislike this tense so much, but it pulls me right out of the immersion of writing/reading and tends to entirely destroy my interest in the story. I'm sorry. Next, I care at least a little about punctuation and spellchecking. If you're roleplaying online, you have access to ways to make sure that you're not just submitting gibberish. If you need help finding those resources... feel free to ask!

I'm open to the idea of making profiles for our characters, but I'm okay without making them too. I'm also vaguely ambivalent to 'beautifying' our posts, should we do them somewhere that allows that sort of thing. I'm fine with any style of reference images, or with not using them at all. I can't promise I won't send you songs and images and memes that remind me of our story, though! Also- I'm super down for dice systems if we decide to go that route (and prefer dice systems if we include combat of any variety in our story.) I love romance, but it doesn't necessarily have to be the drive of our plot if that's not your style. My favorite genres to write in are science fiction, any variety of fantasy, horror, drama, historical settings, wild western settings, and mysteries.

Last but not least, I tend to like making friends with my writing partners. I prefer writing with people I actually get along with, so for me, the plotting phase is the most important. It helps me get to know your personality a bit more, and you mine, so we both know whether or not it's a good match to write long term! I'll write on most platforms, so let's discuss what makes the most sense for us. Finally, I generally only write with folks 18+, for the safety of everyone involved. Thanks for understanding.

Well, as I said, I've got a big ol list of ideas, if any of this strikes you as 'good writing friend' material, so send me a DM and I'll get back to you asap! Feel free to share your ideas too!!!

Original Ideas

- There's something dire down in the mines to the east of this old Western town. Folks keep goin' in to investigate, disappearin' for days at a time, then comin' back all different-like with the lights gone from their eyes. What could be happenin' out there, sheriff? (horror/western)

- A high-fantasy world's balance is shattered when the source of magic is destroyed. How will the people of this mystical land navigate a now mundane life, and how can they survive when so many magical devices go defunct and awry?

- A no-magic world is suddenly spun into chaos: an apocalyptic event leads to the sudden introduction of magic into a world that had previously never known it. In the post-apocalyptic (and mystically-charged) ashes of a world that once was, how do the survivors compete for resources and control?

- A star falls from the sky! They're rare, and it's dangerous to be one. Are you the star, hunted and lost? Or are you someone who finds a star?

- A lich (my character) is rumored to live in the castle at the foot of the mountains, only a mile or so from your town. It's said they're a true villain, the worst of the worst... but what is the truth?

-Arranged Marriages between physical embodiments of the seasons or planets

- There's something dire down in the mines to the east of this old Western town. Folks keep goin' in to investigate, disappearin' for days at a time, then comin' back all different-like with the lights gone from their eyes. What could be happenin' out there, sheriff? (horror/western)

-A sailor, pirate, or other seafarer keeps noticing the same shape in the waters near their ship. After a terrible storm, the ship wrecks… now, one’s a mermaid, one’s a sailor, and they’re both idiots trying to find their way back home.

-Disaster has struck! A grisly assassination attempt leads a bodyguard to quickly usher their liege to safety. Drama ensues!

-Stowaways, and the people who catch 'em!

- Androids and more androids! Or... androids and non-androids!

-In a dwindling-magic world, those who cling to the olde magicks and the old way of living struggle against the new capitalist society and its nonmagic technology. In one still-magickal neighborhood where our story takes place, shopkeepers fight against nonmagickal gentrification in an effort to keep their businesses, communities, and traditions alive.

- A wandering traveler gets caught in a storm and chances upon an abandoned home, castle, or manor.... oh no!

- A train hopping crust punk encounters the ghost of a fellow train-hopper who fell under the rails and died.

- A living person's computer, gaming device, or phone is inhabited by a flirty ghost!

- There's a friendly but sad ghost living in a living person's new home! (Can you tell I like ghosts?)

Original (and corny) pairing ideas

fairy or elf / vampire or other dark creature

vampire / human

god / mortal

demon / angel or other dark/light archetypical pairings

dragon / humanoid

naval captain / stowaway

mob boss / citizen

superhero / supervillain

serial killer / investigator

serial killer / citizen

Bounty hunter/outlaw

outlaw/sherriff

outlaw/outlaw

farmhand/outlaw

Current Fandom Interests/Cravings

Pokemon - preferably with ocs and in a custom setting ft. all the ‘mons/us playing as humans

Elder Scrolls - pls, i’m craving this almost more than anything, and have been for years

Red Dead Redemption - it is cowboy time now

Legend of Zelda - i have a couple of cute ideas for this!

Avatar/Legend of Korra

Labyrinth - please please please someone play jareth for me, ill give you my firstborn in exchange

Star Wars - currently a little burned out on playing as kylo for everyone, so please don’t ask me to be him dlfkjdslfj

Game of Thrones

Lord of the Rings

Night in the Woods

Brutal Legend - does anyone but me remember this??? Omfg lets rp in this setting PLS

The Dragon Prince