#writing perfection

[noperopesaredope]

I wish we had more female characters like Eleanor Shellstrop. One of the most unlikable people you've ever met. Read a Buzzfeed article on most rude things you can do on a daily basis and decided to use that as a list of goals. Makes everyone's day worse just by being there. Dropped a margarita mix on the ground and tried to pick it up, only to get hit by a row of shopping carts which pushed her into the road where she was hit by a boner pill delivery truck, killing her instantly. Cannot keep a romantic partner despite being bisexual. Had a terrible childhood but will die before she gets therapy. Best employee at a scam company. Just the worst but also can't help but root for her to improve.

Absolute loser. Girl-failure. Bad at almost everything. Literally perfect female character.

[mischievous-thunder]

It's him, Johnny. Logan himself is the source. He tried to get out of the Void that way and failed.

[demaparbat-hp]

The Perfect Prince

[aurumacadicus]

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

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

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

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

[calypso-mbk]

I didn't believe it at first but after watching the show, Dead Boy Detectives was so obviously crafted to be catnip for the Tumblr girlies(gn), cause like. Homoerotic ghost detectives. Sassy psychics. Weird girls. Witches. A literal cat king. Sad twink that's actually a crow. Hot goth lesbian butchers. Slowburn ft. immortal beings. Gay confessions in hell. This show was crafted in a lab for us, and I LOVE IT. Go watch it if you haven't already.

[lnk-and-lnspiration]

The Importance of Revisions: Tips for Improving Your Writing

Writing is a creative process that requires dedication, skill, and the willingness to revise and improve. While the initial draft of a piece may capture the essence of your ideas, it is through the process of revisions that your writing truly comes to life. Revisions allow you to refine your work, polish your prose, and ensure that your message is effectively communicated to your readers. In this…

[buggachat]

something so fucked up about Chat Noir’s whole deal is that he is in a lot of ways Adrien playing a character. Like Adrien picked up his miraculous and was told he’d be a superhero so he was like “ok, time to act like a superhero!” and he lets himself have fun w it and play up the role and let loose and kind of just allow himself to be silly and goofy and have fun and for once in his life not care about performing Perfection™.

But. But none of the other characters KNOW THAT. So everyone just sees Chat Noir and is like “look at this guy’s ego. He’s so full of himself. Surely it’d be fair to knock him down a few pegs” without being aware of how few pegs he actually HAS. He’s like the “insecure character who overcompensates in ego” trope except he’s really not doing it unironically, he’s just having a fun LARP pretending to have self worth in his off-hours but nobody else is on the same page about it being a game and he refuses to tell them. He just dramatically pouts about it and lets them laugh and pretends like he’s not internalizing it and it is almost 3 am and my brain forced me to write this instead of sleeping I’m gonna take a melatonin

[loveexpelrevolt]

KURT & ROGUE X-Men '97 1.08 | "Tolerance Is Extinction — Part 1"

+ bonus: Kurt protecting Rogue

[valtsv]

writing hypervigilant characters is great because it gives you a legitimate excuse to focus on incredibly detailed and psychologically revealing elements of someone's perception of the world. but watch out.

[bamsara]

If you're stressing out about a part of the writing process for fanfic to the point where it's not fun anymore, just don't do that part

Post that fanfic with 1000 grammar and spelling errors. Make your characters OOC and give it a Mary Sue. It is a hobby you're sharing not a literature assignment you have to turn in by midnight

[proxycrit]

More caitvi for the soul (art tag if you wanna see more arcane!)

Check out my patreon for my sketchbook!

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

btw toji loves fucking you in prone bone. and he likes to just put all of his weight on you, trapping you underneath him and he likes to just grind into you. he's so fucking big and it's just so much and you feel like you're going to pass out from the sensation. he doesn't even pull out, he just slowly rolls his hips into yours while sloppily kissing away the tears that fall from your pretty eyes.

you can't even properly moan anymore, the only sounds that slip from your lips are broken mewls and shaky breaths. his one arm is curled around your neck, supporting your heavy head with his forearm and bicep. toji feels your drool on his skin and grins to himself.

his hot breath warms your already scorching flesh and you can't keep eyes open either – the feeling of toji in your guts being too much to handle. hazy and delirious, he loves seeing you like this; he loves watching you crumble underneath him. he loves to fuck your pretty little brains out and he will keep doing so as long as he gets to see you like this.

he hisses when you clench around him, his own breath hitching. his free hand finds yours holding onto the crumpled bedsheet below you and he interwines his bigger, rougher fingers with yours.

"does it feel good, hm?" he rasps right in your ear. your body trembles at his voice, at the proximity and he feels like he's in heaven. "tell me."

but instead of an answer, you let out a defeated little whimper from the depths of your stomach. he's so heavy on top of you and you just can't bring yourself to open your mouth again. you just can't do it; you don't have the strength nor the brainpower.

he squeezes your hands before pushing himself deep inside, his tip kissing your most sensitive part. a broken cry tumbles from you accompanied by another few tears—

—but then he just stays there.

he doesn't pull away, he doesn't move at all. he's crushing you under him, he's forging your bodies together. his heart rests above yours, his warm skin sticks to yours just like it's meant to.

"toji- "

he hums and presses his lips to your sweaty temple. he can feel your body trembling, the overstimulation taking hold of you before his very eyes.

"move." your voice is almost as raspy as his is. he's proud of that too – you're giving your all to him and he welcomes you with open arms. this is his way to show you how much he really cares for you, his way of showing his love. "please."

toji chuckles darkly; even the slightest movement makes the knot in your stomach tighten in this position and you feel like you're going to cum... just from this – you're going to finish with him lodged deep inside you, exactly where he belongs.

"i asked you a question, sweetheart."

you try to wriggle yourself under him, desperate to make him move but he's way too heavy. he moves your both hands closer and tucks them right beside your head – he's making you feel smaller and smaller. it feels like you're suffocating. in the best fucking way possible.

the hand that's been resting below your jaw goes to turn your head to the side, so toji can finally kiss you. open-mouthed and sloppy, he pushes his tongue inside and groans at the taste of you. his angel. you can barely keep up with him but he doesn't mind.

he's still not moving his hips though. if anything, he spreads his big thighs a bit wider so he can burrow himself even deeper. your mouth falls slack against his and you can't fucking breathe.

"tell m', how ya feel."

cracking open your eyes, you peer at him from the corner of your eyes and he coos at you. he doesn't let go of your face, keeping you right there so he can look at your perfectly fucked out face.

"so- so good." you hiccup. lips covered in your own drool, you look like a mess. you look like you deserve a reward. "please...."

toji gives you another rumble of a hum and a soft little smile. a lovesick one. he brings your hand to his lips and he presses a kiss on the inside of your wrist while keeping his eyes on you. his lips tug upward when he feels you pulsate around him again but he doesn't tease you for it this time.

it doesn't take much for him to have you twitching and spasming below him. he drinks up every single gasp and mewl, every single whimper and moan as he keeps rocking his hips into you. he helps you ride out your earth-shattering orgasm with rougher and rougher thrusts, his own desire to fill you up and mark you as his taking hold of him.

you cry into the pillow as he growls praise at you. the air in the room is thick and the messy, slick sounds of your bodies grinding together fills the space with ease. you can hear yourself, you can hear him and it's like a perfect melody. everything is so fucking messy, it's so fucking dirty and you wouldn't want it any other way.

he gives your hand another strong squeeze as he cums. his hips stutter flush against you, skin to skin, and he lets out the most beautiful moan. he doesn't hold back anymore – he wants you to know how good you make him feel, too.

his body relaxes on top of you as he listens to you trying to catch your breath. he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

"did s'good for me." he gives you another sloppy kiss on the nape of your neck before hiding his flushed face in your hair. you give him a weak hum, the exhaustion hitting you like a truck. your eyes flutter shut but you gather your last strength to raise and pull his hand to your lips. you need to feel him; more, more, more – he needs to be even closer. always.

soft lips against the back of his hands, you whisper. "iloveyou..."

the words all mix together, coming out as a muddled mess... but it's his muddled mess. he can't help but smile lazily at your sleepy confession.

"i love y'too."

he lets you rest for a bit, he knows you need it. he plays with your hair and he drags his fingers over your smaller ones. he doesn't want to pull away, he wants to stay like this forever.

[mischievous-thunder]

When you just want to save your universe and end up finding your soulmate

[seagreenstardust]

The entire plot of MHA hinges on the question “what makes a hero, a hero?”. There isn’t a single plot point that doesn’t tie directly back to that question. And it’s completely, perfectly bookended by Izuku’s version of the question: “Can I be a hero without a quirk?”

The fact that this question is answered both times by Katsuki, and the answer goes from “quirkless=useless” to “not only CAN you be a hero, you ARE a hero, and I’m gonna personally make sure you get to be for the rest of our lives” IS INSANE

[chloesimaginationthings]

What comic is the bottom left image of springtrap from? (On the post where you say why you draw him blocky)

It’s from this comic!! A very normal father son reunion

Og post here

[gojoest]

nanami kento likes doing the crossword in the mornings, it is part of his routine.

sitting in the kitchen, coffee on the table, some light breakfast to go along with it, and you — next to him.

his legs crossed, the newspaper rested on his lap, he casually takes your hand into his and intertwines his fingers with yours as he works his way through the word game. every now and then drawing your hand close to his lips and planting a soft peck on it.

his expression rarely changes, no matter how tricky the clue is — he always approaches it calmly. because, he always has the answer.

except for this one.

“could you please take a look at this?”, he asks, without peeling his eyes off the paper.

this is a surprise, it must be quite the question — you think, but — “sure”, you mutter. “let me see”, you lean in as he points at the clue with the tip of his pencil.

proposal, asking for a hand — it reads.

you squint. hmm.

14 letters — you count. hmm . . .

“w-i-l-l y-o-u m-a-r-r-y m-e”, you spell out loud. easy. you wonder why he got stuck on that one in the first place—

oh.

the realization hits after you look at him.

his eyes are still expecting, your answer.

“what do you think? will you?”

a/n: of course, he had to pull some strings to make this crossword happen. he’s been meaning to propose to you for a while but never really knew how to go about it exactly, until this idea came to him one day and he thought it was the most befitting, perfect. the ring is in his pocket, and he’s been quite nervous all morning — although he never showed it.