#blacklight live writing

[hotslimybitch]

My brain at work: ok here is a bunch of plot and intrigue for your fic, you should write it

My brain looking at a blank document: i dont know what you want me to do, man. i just live here

[thecapricunt1616]

Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all" ♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father. ♡ W/C: 2.9k ♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately. 

If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser. 

That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?

Yes please. 

You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box. 

That was how that night was supposed to go. 

How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set. 

You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income. 

Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it. 

Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers. 

It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too. 

When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.  

But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin. 

He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say. 

“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing. 

“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was. 

“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything. 

“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it. 

It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his. 

Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face. 

Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.

He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey. 

Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so. 

He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red. 

You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off. 

When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house. 

The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear. 

“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..” 

“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it. 

“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked -  and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions. 

“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on. 

“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“

“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased 

“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned. 

“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over. 

He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school. 

“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm. 

“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this. 

“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack. 

“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips 

“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation. 

The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips 

“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny. 

“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub. 

You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault. 

The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?” 

You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.

Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went. 

He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -

And that bandaid was Tiff.

@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington

[kitchenisking]

Day 5

Coffee Storm by splendid_splendont  - (Rating: G, Words: 1,744, sterek)

‘we got caught by this awful storm and now we’re waiting for it to calm under the roof of a café, want to go inside and have a coffee in the meantime?’

so he's got a few flaws by Phnx - (Rating: T, Words: 1,695, sterek)

In short, everything was terrible.

Just Stopped Working For Me by dedougal - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,447, sterek)

Stiles never expected to meet Derek Hale. He definitely never expected the movie star to slide into his cab and ask for his help.

For better, for worse by Vendelin - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,336, sterek)

Derek and Stiles have been married for six years. Derek loves his job as a successful lawyer, loves his financial security and his large house. It isn’t until Stiles gets shot while working that he starts to understand that maybe Stiles isn’t loving their life as much as Derek is.

Gracious In Defeat by yodasyoyo - (Rating: Mature, Words: 18,136, sterek)

Stiles needs to get away from Beacon Hills after the end of his senior year. Derek offers to let him stay with him in São Paulo, and they finally act on the tension that has always simmered between them. 

The thing is, when it's time to go home- Stiles doesn't want to leave.

Aconitum Bulbus by hazelNuts - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,499, sterek)

xxxAthaelaxxx asked for: "Stiles is underage like 17 and Derek's 23. Stiles got hit by some sex pollen and needs to fuck. Derek's the only single wolf who can do it and refuses to help Stiles since he's underage but if Stiles isn't cured he could die. Virgin!Stiles and Martyr!Derek. Please write in great detail the deflowering."

They'd been having a simple pack picnic, because they did those things now. They’d just finished lunch and had decided on a game of tag. It had all been great until Stiles had tripped and fallen face first into some flowers.

Way Down We Go by Wolfspurr - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 50,131, sterek)

Set during 3B and its aftermath.

The blacklight party at the loft leaves Stiles with more than one revelation playing on his mind. He's losing time, and apparently he might be more than just a little bit interested in Derek Hale.

By the time he's fought off the Nogitsune and somehow lived to tell the tale, the rest of Stiles' sanity might just rest on Derek, the Camaro, and a few hundred miles of Pacific Coast Highway. It's going to be one hell of a road trip.

Savage Beast(s) by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9,390, sterek)

In which Stiles gets a werewolf roommate and it only gets better from there

He Gets Me High by talktowater - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,562, sterek)

Stiles and Derek act like a couple. But they're not. Seriously! Derek has a boyfriend and Stiles has a girlfriend. They're just friends, overly-attached and possessive friends, but that's it. Right?

You First by alikatastic - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 802, sterek)

Stiles got a text from Chris Argent telling him what was going on, and Stiles dropped everything at work and rushed to Beacon Hills. He needed to find his son, Eli, and his husband, Derek. When he got there, the worst had happened, it was his worst nightmare come true. His magic built and built until he got the chance to save them all.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

OC Languages list

Figuring this out for fun.

Josh:

Living languages: Dunmeris (Redoran dialect- first language), Cyrodiilic (Nibenese dialect- speaks with a strong Blacklight accent particularly after being back in Morrowind), Ashlander (Urshilaku dialect- learnt after 3E 428), High Elvish (Blacklight accent kinda messes with his enunciation).

Classical languages: Ald Aldmeris (the equivalent of learning ancient Greek or Latin), Dwemeris (Vvardenfell dialect- first asshole to crack their code, released a thesis on it under the name Talerion of Sunhold. He thinks Dwemeris is different depending on the province with a shared writing system which is something he starts working on during the Dragon Crisis), Chimeris (Nerevar specifically, Josh is not fluent).

Erra:

Fluent: Ashlander (First language- Urshilaku/North Western and Zainab/North Eastern dialects), Dunmeris (Redoran dialect)

Knows just enough to get him by- Cyrodiilic (Nibenese, he can introduce himself and ask for payment. He carries a Dunmeris to Imperial dictionary around).

Etana:

Fluent: Ashlander (First language- Urshilaku/North Western dialect), Dunmeris (Redoran dialect).

Sydari:

Fluent: Cyrodiilic (Nibenese influenced Nordic dialect), Dunmeris (First language- Windhelm dialect, based off of the Hlaalu dialect. Has a very obvious Nordic accent when speaking Dunmeris).

Yani:

Fluent: Ashlander (First language, Erabenimsun/South Eastern dialect), Dunmeris (Telvanni dialect).

(a huge part of his depression when he, Maera and Josh lived in Cheydinhal was that he couldn't communicate with anyone outside of his immediate family. He tried learning Cyrodiilic but didn't have a lot of success before he died).

Maera:

Living languages: Dunmeris (First Language- Redoran dialect), Cyrodiilic (Nibenese dialect), High Elvish (has a much clearer enunciation than Josh.)

Classical languages: Ald Aldmeris

Semi fluent: Ashlander (Erabenimsun/South Eastern dialect with some Urshilaku).

[death-limes]

Say, which characters in HB and HH do you hate the most character wise and then design wise

OHHH MAN i could write an entire video essay about this topic lmao, let me try to be as brief as possible

~~~

Hazbin - Worst Character: This one's hard, there are a few characters who probably suck but I just don't know that much about them. But based on what I know now, honestly…? Charlie. Coinsidering that… I think Faustisse?… confirmed that she's over 200 years old, the sheer level of naivete on her part is just annoying and unbelievable. She's over twice as old as Alastor, she should not be swayed so easily by him. As far as I'm aware she's not in a Disney Princess situation where she was shut inside the castle walls her entire life (PLEASE correct me if I'm wrong on that though) so there's no reason why she shouldn't be at least a little savvy to the ways of sinner demons. She should also have been able to see the VERY OBVIOUS SIGNS that Vaggie used to be an exorcist. Even Carmilla comments that it's super fuckin obvious; the Princess of Hell herself should be knowledgeable enough to pick up on hints that even the fandom picked up on when it was just the pilot. Overall, Charlie just comes across as kinda stupid imo. I don't find myself rooting for her at all.

Hazbin - Worst Design: Alastor. I know he may not necessarily look the worst, and I do in fact simp for him, but his design does absolutely NOTHING that a character design is supposed to do. Namely, it doesn't tell us anything about him & it doesn't help him stand out from the cast. Nothing about his design is uniquely 1930s (nobody wore their hair like that, pinstripe suits started in the 1800s and continue to be popular today, monocles were more of an 1800s thing and were considered old-fashioned by the 30s) or deer-esque (his ears really do not look like dear ears at all, and his "antlers" are just microscopic salad forks that don't even show up on his silhouette). The whole Voodoo thing, aside from being super disrespectful to a literal religion that is still actively practiced, is also so inconsequential to his character that it can be removed entirely and change NOTHING about him. Any of his traits that are in line with the Voodoo thing can still exist without it -- him being a trickster and a dealmaker, mostly. All the blacklight stuff doesn't match his aesthetic at all: in Princess and the Frog where everything was 1920s it gave a magic effect, but in Hazbin where all different time periods comingle it just gives a raver effect, which doesn't fit his anti-modern preferences at all. Also the living-shadow thing is yet another direct ripoff from Dr. Facilier (that might just be in the pilot though I'm not sure), I think the living microphone is a better route to take if you want him to have a spiritual companion type of thing; it's more relevant to his theming and more original. And of course none of this even touches on the "he's half-black" bullshit excuse that only came after V*v received backlash about the Voodoo thing. And it doesn't even solve the issue anyway. A mixed-race man from the 1930s would make for a very interesting character IF that unique experience/identity was actually integrated into his character in any noticeable way, but it's not. It was just slapped on at the last minute. Ugh. I could write an entire essay about Alastor alone tbh.

Helluva - Worst Character: Fizzarolli, but mostly when he was first introduced. Aesthetically he's the closest thing that I have to a "blorbo" in this show, but in the Ozzie's episode he just gave me the most rancid vibes ever. Definitely a "asexuality doesn't exist, you just haven't been with ME yet~" type of person. Admittedly that's more of a personal preference thing and less of a poor characterization; they're in the Lust ring, that type of attitude is kind of expected. What IS poor characterization, however, is his "development" later on when he and Ozzie basically get their own arc. His entire personality changes to be much softer and like…. idk, very obviously a trauma VICTIM and not so much of a potential trauma CAUSER? His character is not nearly as abrasive, but there's no corresponding event that would cause such a change. It just seems like now that he's supposed to be a sympathetic character, they changed his personality to be more appealing. He's not nearly as mean and rude as he used to be. Ozzie has a similar thing going on but it's not quiiiiite as severe, and he's saved from being the Worst by having a far more interesting and unique design. (If you had asked who I think has the BEST design in Helluva, I'd probably say Ozzie.)

Helluva - Worst Design: Beelzebub, no contest. A lot of people seemed to have a problem with her being bee-themed instead of fly-themed like the real Beelzebub in demonology, but that honestly doesn't bother me; I'm not expecting any Hellaverse stuff to be super accurate to The Real Lore so any tiny reference they can slip in (like with Ozzie's design) is just gravy. To me, bee and fly are close enough, I think it counts as a reference. Plus, the bee theme goes well with Gluttony ("nectar" is a common synonym for delicious food) and calling her Queen Bee is an easy way to make her name more appealing/sexy than, yknow. "Beelzebub." What DOES bother me is her canine aspect. Why is she a sparkledog? What is the logic behind that? Why isn't she huge-by-default like Ozzie and Mammon? (You'd think GLUTTONY of all sins would be a big character!) It really just feels like V*v wanted Ke$ha to have a cameo role as a major character and just arbitrarily picked one of the sins for her to be. So the character design has Ke$ha in mind faaaaar more than it has Beelzebub in mind. ***(Funny thing about Queen Bee: for a solid week after her episode came out, I was actually fooled by this page from an RP wiki: [https://hazbin-hotel-and-helluva-boss-rp.fandom.com/wiki/Beelzebub] The explanation that I'd gleaned for this version of her is that the picture shown is the REAL Beelzebub, and the one we see in the show is her daughter by the lord of Hellhounds, Cerberus, which explains her canine features. Queen Bee Jr. is the heiress to her mom's title in the same way Charlie is the heiress to Lucifer's title. The picture shown on that page is just SUCH a better design, and it looks like the show's style, and she seems to be a giant like Ozzie and Mammon…. can you blame me for being like "OH that makes sense!!" Cut to me a week later finding out this is just a fan RP wiki. Siiiigh.)

[fordarkisthesuede]

Heyyy…so, about where I’ve beeeeen… 

I considered doing a silly little poll to have you guess, but... Oh, what the hey! Let's do it!!!

Anyway -

While a lotta y’all had "Brat Summer", I had "Slowly-Being-Consumed-By-Moss" Summer.

And GA summers are real fuckin’ long.

Every year I seem to go through a phase where I decide I’ve had enough of endlessly scrolling through tumblr and feeling bad about not getting things done. Sometimes this is combined with the incredible gloom of coming onto the only social media I partake in and finding nothing but tragic news. Only this time it combined with the very-dreaded Election Season Panic (US version). (Please hold in your derisive laughter.)

Pictured above:  a representation of me, circa…like, April 2024.

I should note the things that I tend to over-use tumblr to avoid aren’t things that have “real” deadlines, but I feel more and more guilty when I don’t do them, or else carve out time to do them. These are usually “replying to messages” and “writing my epic fanfic”, but can even branch out to “making stable diary entries” and the like.

My fellow writers - at least some of you - know what I mean. We clean our living spaces or sort things or bake to avoid writing, because for some reason when we look at the proverbial page our brain nopes out. Sometimes it’s because of the fear we’re not writing well enough for our stuff to actually be liked. Sometimes it’s because we’re veeery stuck with where we’re at and looking at the stupid spot we’re stuck at for the millionth time is exhausting. Sometimes it’s cuz we’re plum outta ideas ‘cause the stars haven’t aligned.

But this past summer was…particularly bad in the writer’s block area. So much so that another fic I was writing from back in February to combat writer’s block with BtTTS: S5 was even getting big ol’ roadblocks! Which is really dumb. It’s mindless self-insert fun for a fandom I’ll probably never write for publicly, yet I’m struggling? WTF.

So most of the summer, I experienced Lethargy. No melancholy, no anger or serious anxiety, no hopelessness or real lack of sleep or feeling over-tired. So not depression, I don’t think, but no real enthusiasm or energy for creative stuff, nor video games for some reason. I went to work, read the news, worked my way through most of a One Piece rewatch, caught up on some manga, and went through a list of movies I had been meaning to see. (Man, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf was wild. You guys see that? De-licious drama. Incredible. I’ll def see it again in like 5 or 10 years.)

I thought about coming back to do a Book of Bill post. I pre-ordered it ages ago. It arrived, I read through it over the span of a few days, I spent time working out most of the puzzles… But I just couldn’t bring up the enthusiasm to do anything for it. It was fun ‘n’ all, but it’s not like a lot of the stuff in there is revolutionary or anything. Besides, by the time I got around to reading the book I already knew all the puzzles were solved and posted online by like day 2 of release or something, because the GF fandom is feral when it comes to puzzles. The Blacklight book was special because of its limited run, and I felt the need to share it so everyone could see. The Bill book you can find in any B&N or e-book store. The thought of typing up anything on it just felt like work.

And THEN…come late July… 

Like ol’ blue eyes lyrics, something came shakin’.

It was like the rubber-band that somehow wound around my brain SNAPPED and went

It wasn't exactly a surprise, yet it was. I've been waiting for like, a decade now. And I finally had means, motive, and opportunity,

It took every single one of my weekends from August to mid-September to find and settle on a place. And then it was every single weekend from then to mid-October to find and store furniture and start packing, all while juggling the UTTER NIGHTMARE that is the mortgage closing process.

Oh, and that hurricane. That certainly didn’t help any. (I'm fine.)

Anywho, that’s why I’ve been hermiting it up. Just been trying to clear my head and get a sense of independence - while I still can -while crafting my own little Ha-Hacienda. And even in light of recent…world-changing events…I’m clinging to my projects with my sharp, sharp nails and my primitive canines, because while the world is clearly always awful I’ve got to enjoy some small slices of life on this absolute bitch of an Earth. Hope I didn’t scare any of ya with my absence. ❤️

P.S. If anyone wants to fill me in on what tumblr-centric and Batman-universe things I missed this past 6 months, the askbox and replies are open. Wrong answers, vague answers, and hieroglyphics accepted, as long as you cite your sources.

[13rie]

More random information of the Gravity Falls AU (that I'm mostly posting up to refer back to when my hyper-fixatations starts to wane)! Man, I should probably think of a name for this...

Anywho, this involves dates! When did everything happen? Where is everyone? For that, I had to do some brainstorming and math (one of my worst subjects in school).

So Torrey Pines is technically 15 at the start of the story but her birthday isn't that far away (well at least for her). I'm still debating on whether it takes place in California (where I have Shermie and his family living) or New Jersey (because I don't think Filbrick and Caryn would have the money travel all the way over to the other side of the US). As for when?

On August 31st, 1987, Torrey Pines attended the funeral of an estranged family member.

Now here's where things get complicated.

It's kinda hard to know when Stanford fell into the portal. People like to say it's the same date on the calendar in episode Carpet Deim [July 4th, 1982] but that date doesn't make sense since it was winter when Stanley arrived. So to be somewhat accurate, I read through Journal 3 (which I own a copy of and I try very hard not to remind myself that I missed out on the Blacklight Edition ;w;)

In Journal 3, the last recorded date is January 17th (assuming it's 1982) - the day they tested the portal and Fiddleford accidentally fell in. The next entry talks about what happened and Ford says, "I will speak with him tonight." So same day, night falls and Ford goes to sleep.

The next page...well, let's just say Ford knows the truth.

Reading further, he says he went into town for food after several weeks. More than 2 so 3 weeks passed. 21 + 17 = 38. January has 31 days so it's now February 7th, 1982. Now he also writes about this one place he's been going to over the past couple (2) of weeks but I think it's still within the same 3 weeks from before. More time passes, taking several days to hide Journal 2 and Journal 3. But obviously since Journal 3 is my source material and Ford had Journal 1 on him, who knows how long it took for Stanley to get to Gravity Falls. I did google for a general idea for how long it must've taken to get from New Mexico (which I think is where Stanley was when getting the postcard) to Oregon and it's about 20 hours. So like...a day.

So the date I have for the portal incident is February 8th, 1982.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk!

[hotslimybitch]

Shit this might actually turn out to be the first chapter of Blacklight

Almost 1000 words to my darius' palisman backstory fic :3

[ferricent]

A Few Precarious Feet Of Space - Use Of Described Distances In Envesseled

Envesseled (https://archiveofourown.org/works/37929724/), by @callowyn and @thegeminisage, sets a number of unique challenges for itself, in its telling. Some aspects of this are necessitated by Envesseled being the seventh fic in the authors’ collected Cambion series, and its most recent.

While Cambion and its successive works’ basis in canon is limited to a specific span of episodes, that’s still six seasons, which means Envesseled is not only grounded on that material, it must trellis upon six prior stories as well, and avoid inconsistencies and contradictions. The story’s cumulative plot is written practically to emphasize the complexity of this, as Envesseled's point-of-view character, Claire, must give up the safety of her senses (and the third-person narrative tense) to experience another character’s memories.

(As we witness Claire witnessing this other, very distinct character’s recall of canon and Cambion history, these memories aren't even discovered in chronological order!)

These sequences are only one way the story weaves ritual and characters’ potential understanding. Claire’s being both bound to and prevented from expressing this, by forces beyond human will, creates the most consequential moment of the fic so far, at the climax of chapter one.

As these connections (and how Claire and her companions can or cannot talk about them) become the material of the story, Envesseled does possess some advantages as well. Not the least of these is the authors’ skill at balancing the pace of events and the characters’ reactions. Some of those discovered memories are sudden, or surprising. Others are links to previous works in the series. Others enter the narrative as though invited, and stay like hauntings, letting us know what Claire cannot help but keep.

The writing is aided by another factor, also, one unique to this series in particular. Where most dialogue would begin to lose meaning if its intent could always be countered, (especially reading in third-person point of view), this story belongs to Cambion, and Claire’s sense of spoken lies means dialogue she hears can offer a shape and its negative space at once.

However, none of those factors are the thing that most distinguishes the craft of this fic.

Though the story — as of this writing — is not yet complete, with six (again) of a proposed eleven chapters available, the chapters we have so far all demonstrate a remarkably realized technique. Namely: Envesseled’s arrangement of areas, and distances, and the meanings these hold for the characters that interact with them.

Being based on a canon so concerned with warding, binding, and abjuration (perimeters of salt, marked chalk or oil, areas of sacred significance) some of this should already be expected.

Claire takes a steadying breath and crosses to the wall, flipping switches until she gets the blacklight to reveal the large glowing circle that covers nearly the entire living room.

—

This is where Ben got the palo santo for his bracelet.

"Holy shit," Jesse breathes, coming up beside her. "What is this place?" He starts forward, eyes bright and curious, but it's barely a few steps before he grimaces and backs away again.

—

Jesse stays just on the edge of the clearing as Claire begrudgingly approaches. He doesn't say anything, for which she's grateful, but it's clear he doesn't like Claire entering this space that keeps him out.

In more than one way, access to space is tied to identity.

There's Enochian here too, scrawled on the eaves in her own hand, and for a second Claire wonders if she's going to be cast out by her own protective wards—but no, it seems she is not enough of an angel yet.

Claire’s surprise at Ben and Jesse’s new connection, separate from her, sits in her thoughts as a breach of proximity.

Casual hookups don't come anywhere close to actually dating someone, for an extended period of time, while there is someone else that sleeps in the same room as you.

As she tries to literally walk away from this shock, the thing she wants to regain for herself is, of course:

Maybe she'll buy a bus ticket and get herself some proper distance from those two assholes she once counted as friends.

What makes the woods of chapter one so perilous for experienced hunters isn’t the witch that wants them to play out an allegory for broken love, it’s isolation.

Claire draws in a lungful of cold air and screams. "Jesse!" He'll never hear her, not with the snow muffling the sound.

When Claire guesses as to how people might be interpreting her sexuality, a thing she's in some way detached from, the cues she considers are those of distances, before desires.

Claire thinks of this morning, of the look on Marie's face when she saw them waking up together, the knowing way Katie sipped her coffee at them. She rarely bothers to correct people's assumptions about her, and she knows there will always be certain things people think about a young woman sharing hotel rooms with a boy her own age.

Even her own assessment of herself, in this way, starts as a measurement.

She sleeps less than three feet away from Jesse every single night. What's the difference?

Chapter five (from which this writing takes its title) even makes distance a key device of the plot, as Jesse and Claire attempt to hone Jesse’s control of his abilities.

“Before you can be trusted with a passenger, you need to gain control of where your own body is in space.”

In instance after instance of this, Jesse’s agency (and Claire’s direction) is extended and exemplified as command of position.

Claire thinks, Why is it that I always land closer to you than where we started?

—

"I certainly hope so," Claire answers, stepping closer. As a rule she doesn't let people touch her unless it's absolutely necessary, but Jesse has made himself an exception in this too. It used to feel like a big deal, when she allowed him close enough to heal her or whisk her away.

The writing is almost saturated in examples of this, as varied as they are evident, in such a way that these cannot be separated from how the story must be read. Cambion's Claire, at a point between human and holy, is a being we must understand in terms of physical domain as well.

oh, the relief—to no longer be hollow

Again and again, emotional range is paralleled by range itself, closeness mirroring closeness. It is though before Envesseled was ever planned in passages or phrases, it was something rendered in stage direction, or choreography.

At some point, in the future, the the story will continue. Claire and Jesse will finalize some kind of revenge, or resurrection, or reckoning. Likely, it will be some mixture of the three. It isn’t possible to predict Envesseled’s ending, but it is almost certain that it will account for an arrangement of space.

[sithgoddess19]

My beloved OC/wife 🤧💍

So, my first ever transformers OC, I have

Meet blacklight :) honestly blacklight had always been my comfort OC. Literally after rewatching the first and fourth transformers movie back in early 2022, I just straight up make her without a thought and even if my OC, she’s my wife. Now don’t ask about the hair I have two reasons, 1: I was in the early stage of drawing transformers 2: I got inspired by elita one in transformers animated. Okay enough about this, here are some basic info

Name: Blacklight

Fractions: autobot

alt mode: SSC Ultimate aero

Personlity: she may be cold and deadly meaning some may mistake her as decepticon, but she really nice and caring sometimes like a mother

Backstory: Blacklight was only a sparkling when her parent were killed by the decepticon, ratchet found her in the alleyway and took her in, during her years of training. blacklight was just a normal cybertonian kid, when in the mid age, she was very close even best family friends to megatron and sential prime, but when starting the fall of cyberton, she was sad and shock to see megatron as the new leader of decepticon when she was fighting, she got caught in one with tempest, tempest rips blacklight left eye out ((then blacklight rips her head off during the chicago battle >:3)), blacklight was close to dead but once again optimus and ratchet save her, replace her eye with a eyepatch. When the autobot were tolded to head to earth, blacklight landed on earth in the mid 1980s, during her time, she watch human as they normally live but during that time, blacklight was developing some anger and rage feeling that she should revenge them which wasn't the autobot way but she felt them. In late 1990s, she was bought by a human named dave and they become close….too close. (i'll so write her life in the battles or the future)

relationship status: she is poly, she was in love with dave but she found she poly so she fell for wheelie (he act differently in my au btw), then crosshairs and fangsnap

(damn that alot and if say smash, I will find you/j)

[gurokichi]

If you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send this to the last five blogs in your notifs. Anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog <3

- Your Mortician💉 (Back with a new blog theme!!¡!)

Hmm, okay! I won't be sending this to any other blogs, but thank you for taking the time to send it to me. Alsooo, hello, my mortician ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ I hope you had a good time during the holidays and New Year's! I saw your new theme, it’s very cool looking

Fact #1: I’m really interested in stuff that involves radiation, especially what it does to the body and any incidents that happened involving it. I’d love to go to and explore places that are now abandoned due to being too radioactive to live there! I also want to collect uranium glass (and other types… but we are talking about radiation here!), but I haven’t had much luck so far looking for some. I only have one piece for my collection, but it’s cool to look at anyways! It glows bright green under a blacklight :D

Fact #2: Despite having the word guro (gore) in my username, I can’t stomach actual gore all too well, not because I’m sensitive to blood or something, but due to the content of it being real people going through whatever happened. Videos of it just make me feel bad most of the time, but I can handle pictures better. Overall, though, I prefer it when it’s drawn!

Fact #3: I want to get into game development one day! I’ve dabbled in it a little bit from time to time; my most recent attempt was trying to create a mod for one of my favorite games, and I definitely want to try again soon but with making my own short game this time. It’s always been a thing I’ve wanted to do since I was younger. I’ve had a lot of things influence my desire to create over the years. I love writing, and I think it’d be neat to tell whatever story I want to tell through the form of a game due to there being so many games that are very important to me. I’m not very good at art, though… so it’s a bit hard to work on things like this on my own σ(^_^;)

[theconfusedartist]

hhmmmmmph

Prototype and Resident Evil I feel like...the original devs for prototype were inspired by some of the designs and elements that were in RE:Zero and RE5, specifically.

The Ouroboros inspired Blacklight and Redlight (the chords and tendrils, how they move, how they interact with flesh) and RE:Zero specifically was used for design choices with the supreme hunter

Like, I just got some of the concept art (since I'm getting as much stuff as possible from the wikia before I just make my own in writing app pages bc fuck the fandom wiki) and....there was also art that compared the Supreme Hunter to the T-Virus Tyrant

Original Design:

In game model:

Using tendrils:

Comparison to Tyrant:

Ngl the original design fucks but I feel like it would look even cooler combined with the final result.

Also, as for Alex I mentioned this in another post but the tendrils

Alex's tendrils:

Ouroboros trying to integrate with a still living host:

Idk I feel like there's similarities, especially since I booted up the game a few days ago and did the first mission then just walked around Penn Station. None of the npcs were infected it seemed like and I didn't see any of them holding their stomachs or walking slowly like you do later on in the game. Ofc that was a new game, so I'll check out new game+ with infected vision and see if that's any different than what I found

[changelingsandothernonsense]

josh childhood/teenage years info dump?

Hello! Joshi's childhood is an infodump and a half. There's a few CW for abuse. This one is long so I'm putting it under a cut.

Josh was born to very young parents who had no idea what they were doing but tried their best to make things work. Maera and Yani had fled Blacklight for Cheydinhal a few months before he was born. The circumstances of which involve Yani's connections to the Camonna Tong and the stealing of their branch head's betrothed. That and Maera not wanting to raise a half Ashlander son around her father. Who would only see the child's differences and treat him accordingly.

The first four years of his life were spent in Cheydinhal and naturally he doesn't remember much of it. He has a few loose memories about his father taking him hunting in the forest and him teaching him to draw a little but not much else. He remembers how his mother wasn't the same when he didn’t come back after leaving for a job.

Teldryn remembers how his mother was begging Yani not to go, something about making do and finding a better way to make money. He remembers his father telling him about how he was going to travel through some caves that had whole lost cities in them. He recalls flapping a book around that had drawings of various Dwemeri constructs in it and asking Yani about each one.

Yani Ensirhaddon is the reason Teldryn has a massive interest in the Dwemer. It's an interest he shares with his father, who liked to collect Dwemer artifacts.

He doesn't remember how many months it took before Maera moved both of them back to Blacklight but he doesn’t think he was much older than four or five. So less than a year had passed.

Joshi's time in Blacklight was mixed. This was when his grandmother, Nervynna Sero, was still alive so she shielded him a lot from Ilaro Sero’s outbursts. Though Ilaro would never let him forget he was nothing but the unwanted and inconvenient spawn of an Ashland thief.

Teldryn received the kind of education that one would expect a high-born kid to have. The Sero clan were merchants who made a name for themselves on the mainland with the prosperity of their ebony mines. Most of what they sell is through the EETC, and Nervynna was hoping that her grandson might serve as a negotiator/ liaison to Cyrodiilic interests. Especially once Nervynna figured that he had a gift for languages. (That and his manipulative little face. Lovingly.)

Teldryn's fluent in Dunmeris, Cyrodiilic and High Elvish as well as being well versed in Aldmeris...something he would be thankful for later. He likes puzzles and cyphers and isn't too bad at maths. He creates himself a code to write his thoughts in. Mostly he was writing long love letters to a boy in his tutoring classes. It occupied his mind and stopped him thinking about the things he saw in his mind at night.

His mother would grow increasingly distant as Josh got older and came to closely resemble his father. Her affections were often hot and cold. One moment she's showering him in toys and sweets and the next she's throwing a bottle of liquor at him and blaming him for her misery. For most of his early years, his grandmother served as his main parental figure until she died from a fever that had rocked through Blacklight when he was 13.

His grandfather would move them to Vvardenfell that same year. Ilaro was an ambitious man, and that ambition had made him his fortune, but there was always something in the way. His ambition demanded that he have the backing of one of the Great Houses and since Redoran had made it very clear over the centuries that the Sero clan would not be made members due to a blemish on their lineage (plot important) he decided to try for House Hlaalu instead. They aligned far more with his philosophy anyway. He had started this process years before, planning on securing a marriage bond, but things didn't play out the first time around and Teldryn was living proof of that.

The Sero household moved to Vivec City briefly before Ilaro purchased property in both Suran and Balmora, respectively. Though Suran would be his primary residence.

With the absence of his grandmother there was no one to push back against Ilaro's abuses. As far as he was concerned, Teldryn was a bastard who ruined his chances at getting into House Hlaalu once already. (Maera was initially betrothed to Orvas Dren, Yani popping in and sweeping her off her feet in an awkward fashion weren’t exactly planned or appreciated.) As such he was made to feel very unwelcome. Maera was terrified of her father and rarely ever did she stand up to him. It's something he finds hard to forgive.

Josh starts acting out a lot, and on one trip to Balmora, not long after they'd moved, he and his uncle (who he almost doesn't get along with) get into a fight. Josh ends up storming off to Labour Town, where he finds himself wandering about a Velothi run bazaar. He decides to get his face tattooed and chooses a design that reminded him of the scarification pattern his mother described Yani having. He chooses purple because it's his favourite colour. He gives his mother a shock when he eventually stumbles home. There are times when he regrets getting them, since the motivation was out of spite, but he's since gotten used to them. They're just a part of his face at this point.

Things start to spiral downhill as the years drag on. His tutoring ended when he was 17 (around the time his magical abilities showed up), and it was becoming readily apparent that Ilaro was going to kick Josh out before he was 20. This just made him act out more, he starts committing petty crimes in Suran with a small group of urchins. This is when he starts to catch Orvas Dren’s eye, who, by this stage, has taken over Vvardenfell's Camonna Tong chapter.

He starts paying Teldryn to do smuggling jobs for him. Nothing too fancy, just small items and moon sugar. Josh starts learning he's got a propensity for pyromancy. He would remain largely untrained, however, outside of what he'd pick up in the odd tome he'd swipe or whatever he could find at the Dren Plantation.

When Josh was 19, Ilaro decided he would actively seek membership into House Hlaalu again. This time his sponsors would be the Omanis, who had an interest in partnering with one of his ebony mines.

It was imperative that Josh remained unseen. The presence of a Velothi bastard would only hurt Ilaro's chances in his eyes. This wouldn't be the first time a Velothi ruined his ambitions.

Maera, however, was worrying about what would become of her son. She knew he was out making mischief. She worried for his safety in her own way, her anxiety being triggered by Orvas Dren stepping back into the picture. He had been the one responsible for Yani's disappearance after all.

She was terrified to think of what he would do to her son, he threatened his life once before. It's why Yani left.

She resolved to become more involved in Joshi's future. She hoped maybe the Hlaalu Guard might be good for him. No one would take a Velothi apprentice, so pursuing magic was out of the question, as was him getting a role in the family company.

It was during this time that Ilaro had the clan stay at the Omani plantation so that he could work out a deal with Velanda Omani. It was here that Joshi met Velanda's granddaughter, Maralie Omani, who was a few years his senior and already engaged.

Josh was smitten from the moment she wandered into the kitchens where Josh had been hiding. He thought he was in love, ask him later, and he'd say he was a dumb kid, but a part of him will always have feelings for her. (As would become apparent when Red Mountain erupts).

Josh is caught in the act on the Sero’s last night at the manor and is immediately punished. Maera takes Josh back to Suran whilst Ilaro tries to fix things. Her hope is to get Josh into the guard early, before Ilaro gets back but things did not work out that way.

The Seros were staying with the Omanis for the summer. Teldryn and Maralie had two and a half months together by that point and Josh wanted to elope. He just never had the chance. He still kicks himself that he didn't just ask her. At least then he might have had some semblance of a relationship with his son, and maybe he could have avoided the mess that followed. He just wished he'd anticipated what followed- he didn’t even know Maralie was pregnant.

Ilaro and the Omanis arrived back in Suran to finalise things. It seemed from the outside that Ilaro had managed to fix things between them. In reality, he'd signed away ownership of his Vvardenfell ebony mines in exchange for admittance into House Hlaalu with the caveat that they get rid of the Velothi. Ilaro didn't have to think twice. He was getting everything he'd ever wanted.

Maera is devastated and works up the courage to stand up for Teldryn only to find herself again at the receiving end of his rage. He then goes to find Teldryn and starts beating him senseless while his mother helplessly watches.

Teldryn is thrown out, fleeing over the fence and into the night. He first goes to the Omani estate in Suran to find Maralie but he's ignored. Instead he finds himself aimlessly wandering the streets. He's picked up by Orvas Dren just as he starts to become desperate and hungry. The mer offers him a place to stay and work. He can't refuse.

He wishes that he did.

It started fine, Teldryn would run the usual smuggling jobs with the other kids. He was making coin and Dren was showering him with praise and attention. Things seemed good until they weren't.

After a few months, Josh started being invited into Dren’s office. He hated those nights. He could never scrub himself clean enough.

Eventually, Josh decided he needed to escape the Dren plantation. He managed to get himself back to Suran and asked a guard for help. He was fed, given clean clothes and sent straight back to the Dren plantation. This is when he receives his eyebrow scar and the thin one around his left arm. The punishment he received fractured his brow bone as well as a few ribs.

But the invites to Dren’s office stopped, so that was something. Of course, that was until he was drugged and carted off to the Suran markets where he was sold to an Orcish bastard who ran the day to day of a smuggling ring in Cheydinhal. It seemed that Orvas Dren had grown bored of him.

Josh spent almost four years working for this branch of the Tong. He was mostly used as the group’s fire power. He also worked as a bouncer at the pleasure house the group ran their operations out of.

He wasn’t particularly high-ranking but no one really bothered him. He made do and tried to ignore the silver brace on his wrist that marked what he was. Here he got fed and he certainly wasn’t bored. He wasn't really sure what to do with himself and instead did as he was told. He didn't trust the guard enough to help him and there was little opportunity for escape.

One day they get a request to smuggle people and cargo into Morrowind. They had some new members and Josh had a bad feeling about the whole thing. Though he couldn't affect the situation. All they needed him for was to defend their back in case any guards followed them.

It ended in disaster. The whole thing was a set up, with the new members being Imperial spies. Teldryn is instructed to slow them down. Unfortunately he's untrained and ends up causing the sewer tunnels under Cheydinhal to collapse.

Josh flees the scene but is separated from the rest of the group. He's unsure of what happened, just that he caused a cave in when he tried to summon a wall of fire. He goes into hiding for a few days, thinking to himself that maybe this is his opportunity to escape.

He makes his way back into town, careful to avoid the guard only to find his mother of all people looking for him. She promises to get him to safety, only to turn him in to the Legion in exchange for a lighter sentence for Josh. It was not a promise that is ever fulfilled.

Josh doesn't give a shit about Maera’s intentions (getting him out of the Tong so that he doesn't get killed.) He just feels an overwhelming sense of abandonment and betrayal as his sentence is read out to him.

Execution, for the murder of four Imperial agents.

This would be overturned and reinstated multiple times with Josh only being released 33 years later. Dumped in the province he thought he'd never have to see again.

Anyway I thought I'd draw Joshi at age 22 (think 17-18). Something something mugshot something something he cuts his own hair.

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

*Gigi falls from the chimney like Santa Claus, but instead of presents, she carries ✨questions✨*

🍋: What is your OC's most painful memory?

🍍: Where does your OC feel most comfortable?

🍆: Does your OC have any favourite form of affection, physical or otherwise?

🍇: What sort of friend are they? Where are they in the group dynamic?

🍪: What is something that's sentimental to you OC?

🍹: Does your OC have any funny anecdotes told about them?

All for Hjaldir and Signe! 🥰

Christmas came early for me because WHOA! THAT'S A LOT OF PRESENTS! What did I do to deserve this? Thank you, so, so much, my dear!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

🍋: What is your OC's most painful memory?

Ooof, this hit me in the feels, but there are two for Hjaldir, I’m not sure which is more painful, but I’ll answer chronologically. Also, his story may change as I keep writing, but essentially, this is the backbone of it.

His mother’s death. Hjaldir and his mom were bards for a very wealthy family, but they were treated very badly, almost like slaves. They lived in the barn, while the wealthy family was sleeping delightfully in their manor. His mother was a single mom and she taught him everything about music, but she fell ill, and died shortly after. It really hit him hard, and the fact that he felt so incapable to do anything to help her was awful, because he did not have lots of money. He tried working overtime, and in her final days, he really thought about becoming a pirate and bring her all the wealths that he gained, but that never happened. But her death was what broke the chains for him and his old lifestyle, because she kept telling him that he should go and build a life for himself, but he stayed for her. Now, he was free to do whatever he wanted, and so he felt the sea calling for him. 

The second one is Endryn’s death, of course. He loved his life at the Emerald Bar, and Endryn was his best friend. His life was a perfect balance of peaceful and adventurous. He was never away from the sea for too long, first of all, because Blacklight is a city with a big port, and secondly because he kept going on trips to different parts of Tamriel (Mostly High Rock) to resupply the Tavern. Ravonna very often accompanied him, and they were always up to shenanigans. Teldryn was a good friend and an even better drinking opponent, and his bond with Ravonna was the strongest one he felt in his life. And all of that died with Endryn. He knew nothing would be the same. Both Ravonna and Teldryn left, and he was left alone with his thoughts and grief. And unlike Ravonna and Teldryn, he is a very social person, being alone is not good for him.

For Signe, she doesn’t really have anything specific, her life is very dangerous with people constantly dying, and they’re all very sad. However, she doesn’t want to linger in grief and quickly shoves it away, even if she doesn’t fully process it. The sad part that left a constant sadness in her soul was leaving her dad behind in order to write her own story and pursue the life that she wanted for herself.

🍍: Where does your OC feel most comfortable?

Both of them feel comfortable at sea, or close to it, I suppose. Nothing beats the sounds of waves. Very cliché, I know, but they’re pirates :))))

🍆: Does your OC have any favourite form of affection, physical or otherwise?

I answered this for Hjaldir here!

As for Signe, her form of affection is not so physical. Gift giving is her jam. She grew up wealthy and doesn’t really care much for riches or treasures. The smiles on her loved one’s faces when she shows them with gifts is her favoured treasure!

🍇: What sort of friend are they? Where are they in the group dynamic?

Hjaldir is a teamplayer, he works best when he is part of a group, and he is very much a wildcard, too. You can never know exactly what he’ll do next. Not blindly loyal, either. He also brings humor and light-heartedness in the group, but I think that at this point, this is the default trait I give to my ocs :)))

And Signe is the leader of the group 100%! The legendary Deathbrand, most feared pirate, but also secretly a team player, because there is no captain without a crew. Still, she always had this leader aura about her.

🍪: What is something that's sentimental to you OC?

GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH WHILE TRYING NOT TO MAKE HJALDIR HAVE A “PIECE OF FABRIC” THAT ONCE BELONGED TO HIS MOTHER BECAUSE THAT IS TOOO OFMD BLACKBEARD AND I’VE ALREADY MADE HIS STORY KIND OF INSPIRED BY IT, but maybe that. WHy is everyone in this family at least slightly inspired by Blackbeard 😭Definitely something to remind him of his mother. And also maybe something cute from Ravonna. A ring that she bought for him (with his own money lmao) when she was a kid because it was a ring with a skull on it and skulls are very pirate-y, at least in kid Ravonna’s eyes.

Signe’s not the type of person to get attached to material things, but when she received a letter from her father, informing her that he is finally [REDACTED, FOR SPOILER REASONS] she kept it in her inner pocket for the rest of her life.

🍹: Does your OC have any funny anecdotes told about them?

OOF WHERE DO I EVEN START WITH THIS ONE!!? Pirates who’ve known adventure and shenanigans all their lives have too many funny anecdotes, but I’ll go with the ones that first come to mind!

I’m not sure if this is canon yet, but I came up with it because I want Hjaldir to have more time and to be able to do a lot of badass stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when I see elderly characters as well, and he will still have his badass old man moments and his very sexy gray hairs among his raven black hair, but I also want him to join the fellowship in their adventures, so I came up with this: on one of his adventures, he found a crypt with his crew and they robbed it. Turns out it was a mad alchemist who resided there, and he left a very strange potion on his desk. Everyone was wondering what it was, and Hjaldir, being the chaotic disaster that he is, just straight up chugged it. Turns out it was an elixir of elongating one’s life and a potion that the mad alchemist worked really hard on, which he failed to make again. 

And another one for Hjaldir, because I find this very endearing and perhaps a bit of evidence that both him and Ravonna are a bit gray. On one trip to High Rock, they pretended to be fancy psychics that could foresee the future, they had a fancy bowl that Ravonna looked into and pretended to read and everything! They set up a tent and charged people and said *the* most generic bullshit ever. And people were eating. It. up.

Signe also has her fair share of funny anecdotes, some which we will see in HOTHS. For now, the one that I’m most excited about is the crew being abducted by a wild tribe in Valenwood, and them making her some sort of high queen and prophet because of a necklace that she looted. Turns out it was an important artefact for that culture, but they thought they were going to be a big soup because Wood elves and cannibalism. The tribe didn’t speak any language that the crew did, but they managed to find a translator. In the end, Signe was missing a necklace, but gaining a new crew member. It’s a bit vague, but I will develop this more as I write, I think it will be an entire chapter of HOTHS.

Well, well, well, this got extremely long, but a mere thank you is not enough! This has helped me immensely in bot Hjaldir and Signe’s characterization! And I had so, so much fun doing this. Gigi, thank you so much, my dearest <3 <3 <3 

[kikibridges13]

Dancing With Your Ghost | Chapter 9's Medical Breakdown

Chapter 9 here.

Full story here.

Hoo boy this was an easy one to write out, but rough on me emotionally. What you see in this chapter is almost a step-by-step of what I got to witness each day for 6 weeks.

Actually, for me, it was about 8.5 weeks, due to the weather, holidays, and being so damn sick, I was admitted to the hospital about a week before Thanksgiving because my gallbladder decided around that it was going to show it's ass in the middle of all that.

This is an excerpt from the blog that I had kept during that time.

Today's office visit was almost painless. It first started with a 12 minute video on what to expect for Radiation Therapy – which all I could think about during the entire thing was how they could have done certain scenes and transitions differently (my degree has officially ruined me. I'm critiquing medical videos now). However, I did pay attention enough to take in what all would be done, which according to their five steps (consultation, set up, simulation, therapy, and post check-up), I'm onto step three.   Today was set-up. First starting with making a mold of my teeth, which will help the doctors make sure that they are treating the same spot each time. While I was biting down on that disgusting putty for five minutes (which almost six hours I can still taste. Blegh.), a nurse was marking three places on my face that would also help make sure everything was aligned each time during radiation. Okay, I guess I could handle having three tiny blue spots on my face for six weeks. And then she pulled out a needle.   Suddenly I'm not liking this idea anymore. Apparently, these marks only show up under a some sort of blacklight or laser beam because I haven't noticed anything largely noticeable. But the nurse dabbed some kind of ink onto the spots she had made with a sharpie, then used the need to push the ink into my skin.   How do people in prison set there and have tattoos done slowly that way? Because those three needle pokes were enough to make me want to run. Or just wince in pain since that wasn't an option. Good thing I was biting down on something during that.   After those were done, I had to have a mask made that would make sure that I wasn't going to move duri\ng the treatment. It looks like a fencing mask that comes down on the bridge of your nose and has to be stretched to go over your head. So once they had it warm enough to stretch, it was placed on my head and stretched, then locked into CT machine. This is where I felt like the Man in the Iron Mask. I definitely had no room to move, so the thing had done its job. Then they did their CT test, and I was finally free.  

My next blog post would be a month later, because what happens to Buck at the end of the chapter somewhere happened to me. As soon as my first treatment ended, not only did I have that constant nauseous feeling all the way home (and I lived an hour and a half away from the hospital I had to go to for treatments, so I was having to make a 3 hour round trip every day for a whole 10 minute treatment), but I had a constant dull headache the entire time. My parents ended up going to work - they had a second shift job at the time - and about 8 hours after that first treatment, I had a headache as tense we see Buck have. I didn't lose consciousness, but honestly that would have been better than 4 hours of intense pain. My parents came home, took me to the ER, and they gave me a shot of painkillers and sent me on my way.

And then I experienced the same thing the next, including actually sickness and extreme hydration.

But we'll see more of that in the next few chapters.

[deadlypressure]

Me *making videos on TT*: Wow, it's so cool that other people, and other creatives are enjoying my content! It's such a low pressure format, and no one has really pushed me to interact on a 1 v 1 basis, not even mutuals after I comment on their posts! This is great, low stakes, decent return. Most of my videos don't crack 300 views/50 likes, but that's fine. Maybe one day I'll develop a small, dedicated following that can supplement my normal earnings to the point where I can drop to part time at my day job and still be able to live on my own! (Lol, no.)

New mutual, a fellow fantasy maker, never shows his face, most of his videos are done in blacklight. Largely comedic, and a much, MUCH larger following than me (Did not really process that until recently, whoops.) He comments on a few posts, some I feel comfortable liking, others are too close to banter and hike up my anxiety immediately.

Me: Hey, cool, new mutual! They don't do many videos with heavy emotional content, so they should be fairly low-risk for interaction, right? Nice!

Shit hits fan, goes dark for a while because damn, life do be life-ing and I ain't got the support or the tools to keep it from being overwhelming.

Tiktok ban goes through, a lot of people are doing a lot of stuff.

Tiktok ban lifts, everyone is doing even more stuff. New mutual duets a sound off video, basically a roll call to see who's back and who isn't.

Me: Hey, this seems like the start of a duet chain, I should pitch in after work! I've got a fairly low-energy costume I can use, let's do it!

*Actually manages it, writes a self deprecating caption about how I'm not entirely "not dead" and how I will be going back to sleep now."

New mutual *sends me a DM about how glad he is to see my content again, and how much he would've missed it, instead of just commenting on the damn video, which would've boosted engagement.*

Me *Remembering why it's called "social" media* *Instantly terrified.* *Immediate reaction to seeing the message being to shut down the app and throw the phone across the room, because FUCK that.* *Why does this give similar energy to the best guy friend saying "I need to tell you something"* *He's also a twitch streamer now.* *The cortisol is strong right now.* *Avoidant attachment say whaaa* *Nope, so avoidant I don't even form attachments.* *You get freaked out and overwhelmed by moments of emotional vulnerability with long term partners? I get freaked out and overwhelmed by TT mutuals trying to talk to me directly, we are not the same.*