#writing crawl

[cataclysmic-writer]

Tables, Ladders, and Chairs: A Writing Crawl

I'm nostalgic for good old-fashioned writing crawls, but I'd like to introduce a community element to it, and hence, this was born! Each bolded word or phrase has a corresponding purple writing challenge to it. Tackle the challenge by yourself and work your way through the story, or reblog and let others send in challenges!

Tables, Ladders, and Chairs: A Writing Crawl.

As an up-and-coming new professional wrestler, you've got a long journey ahead of you to reach the top of your career. Think you've got what it takes to hoist the championship? Then step into the ring, if you dare....

Indies: Short for 'Independents' these small wrestling promotions are where wrestlers spend years building their craft and gaining fans before they get their big break. This is your first stop. Write 100 words to warm up while you get the hang of this new profession.

Sell a Move: Wrestling is part combat sport, part dance. You and your opponent must work together so the match looks both realistic and entertaining. 'Selling' is how wrestlers make their opponent's offense look devastatingly painful. In the next 300 words, include a character getting injured (big or small). If it doesn't fit, then write 300 more words.

Entrance Music: Who wants to walk to the ring in silence? No thanks! Like clothes, the theme a wrestler chooses says a lot about them. What kind of theme will you choose? Put your playlist on shuffle and sprint until the end of the song.

Ring gear: Clothing and style are an easy way to further a wrestler's persona. Are they tough? Dark and Moody? Do they wear wrestling trunks that look shamelessly similar to a Speedo, or do they look like they just stumbled out of a frat house? As you work with costuming to select your attire, write five sentences describing a character's clothing.

Heel turn: Sometimes, being the good guy doesn't work out, but that's okay! Being the bad guy is more fun anyway. In wrestling, this is called a heel turn, and it often involves betraying a friend, or beating the shit out of one or more people. While you let the weight of your actions sink in, write 5 lines said by, or about, the antagonist.

Tables: Taking a tough move? Don't worry! We'll break your fall with a nice wooden folding table. Oh, sorry, did I say break your fall? I meant break your bones...common mix-up. While you nurse your wounds, table your current scene and write five lines in a different one.

Ladders: Ready to climb to new heights? Good, because if you want to win this match, you'll need to scale a 20-foot ladder before anyone else. Did someone else get to the ladder first? Just push 'em off! The concrete floor absorbs way more impact than you'd think...As you climb the ladder, do a pyramid sprint (sprint to 100 words & rest, then 200 & rest, then 300 & rest, before returning to 200 and 100).

Chairs: Don't get your hopes up, this isn't to catch a breather. In fact, a folding chair is a wrestler's best friend! A good whack (or 10) with one will take your pesky opponent out of commission for weeks. As you debate how many swings to take, roll a D10 and write that many hundred words.

Extreme Rules: Seems like you've made a few enemies on your path to the top. It's time to squash your rivals once and for all in an extreme rules match. Anything goes, and the only limits are the bounds of your imagination (and your morals). While you consider bringing a gun to a fistfight, welcome the chaos and try to beat the 50-headed hydra*

** The 50-headed Hydra is a challenge to write 500 words in five minutes or less. "Spelling" and "grammar" are optional.

Tag Team: Not every wrestler does a match solo. In fact, wrestlers commonly join forces with one another to form tag teams and fight in a 2-v-2 match. As you search for a tag partner, participate in a ten-minute word war against at least one other person. If you lose, repeat until you win.

Iron-Man Match: This wrestling match is a race against the clock. You and your opponent must wrestle for an hour straight. Whoever gets the most pins/submissions in that time is the winner. Write for an hour. You can halve the time if you work in the words 'iron man.'

Main Event: After all the sacrifices, you're finally one of the top stars in the company, which means your matches are last. It's your job to give the crowd a night they won't forget. As you close the show, look up what time sunset was. Add ten minutes and sprint for that long.

Wrestlemania: This is it, the big night. The Super Bowl for people who think defenders should just choke out the QB. The arena is packed. There's so many pyrotechnics that 4th of July is jealous. Soak it in; this is all for you. At the biggest match of your career, roll a D100 and sprint for that many minutes.

Championship: This is it! After all this time, you're finally booked in a match to win gold. Time to show the crowd what kind of champion you'll be. As you wrestle like your life depends on it, sprint to the end of the current scene or chapter.

Congratulations, wrestler! You've made it big! Tag me in any snippets or asks, or to nurse your wounds. Maybe next time, we'll meet in the ring....

[hedgehog-moss]

Welcome to the great donkey contest of 2024

I must confess that I, once again, forgot the date of the yearly donkey contest, so I had to leave early (I had a restaurant reservation in another town) and have no idea what was the jury's verdict on each of these donkeys. Therefore, you are the jury. It will be heartbreaking, but I will ask you to vote at the end of the post, setting aside the known fact that all donkeys are the best donkey.

There were Poitou donkeys, Berry donkeys, Bourbonnais donkeys, Provence donkeys, Andalusian donkeys, and common donkeys who seemed to have no distinguishing features other than being acceptably donkey-shaped. I can't possibly post all my photos, so I have chosen 4 noteworthy contestants (or 3 and half, one is very small) for you to vote on. I'll add that I only stayed long enough to watch 2 donkeys demonstrate their skills, so in a spirit of fairness I will not mention anyone's job. You won't be voting based on how good they are doing their specific donkey job but on how good they are at being a donkey.

Donkey #1 — CHEWBACCA.

Chewbacca is big, and he has ears. These are his most salient characteristics. Each one of his ears looks like a separate fluffy ferret-sized mammal attached to his head, gently twitching or napping. Chewbacca's hooves are the diameter of a medium pizza and he looks very formidable but he is extremely kind. I know the most pressing question is "Can I scritch Chewbacca's ears?" and the answer is yes, but then he will immediately appoint you ear-scritcher in chief and will look very sad when you walk away to meet other donkeys.

Chewbacca's ears on their own could be enough to let him win Hairiest Donkey in any contest—but he is mixed breed, and there were purebred baudets du Poitou in attendance. Their entire identity is "the hairy one", and giving the Hairiest trophy to another donkey would result in massive spread of existentialism among Poitou donkeys.

(He is not a contestant, as I didn't have time to get a good aperçu of his personality.)

(Same for this shiny black donkey, pictured here canoodling with a Poitou lady—unfortunately I don't have photos of him in motion, but believe me when I say he was the glossiest donkey I've ever seen. When walking or trotting he shone in the sun like a freshly-polished dress shoe.)

Back to our contest.

Donkey #2 — UGOLIN.

Ugolin (who seems to go by "Glin") is a shaggy, gangly teenage boy whose main characteristic is being utterly love-starved. Left unattended, Ugolin would wander about the donkey contest, stopping in front of every child or adult he encountered, hoping someone would love him.

I was initially the only human Ugolin did not want cuddles from, because he was scared of Pandolf and seemed to think of me as his minion. Then I tied Pandolf to a tree and crouched down a few metres away from Glin, unsure if I had a chance now—and after hesitating for about 2 seconds he came over to kiss my forehead. My friend was so touched by this moment that she (somehow) got her phone to turn her photo into an impressionist painting.

"Can I scritch Glin's ears?" Yes. He is desperate for someone to pet his ears.

Donkey #3

—no, sorry, it's Ugolin again. It's very hard to get rid of him.

Donkey #3 — THE BABY.

The baby has no name. The baby has no skills. The baby is not good at anything other than being tiny enough to walk under her mum's belly. In the absence of any other qualifications she was happy to show off what is possibly the most low-effort limbo dance in the world.

"Can I scritch the baby's ears?" No. Big point against her, here. She will, however, come over if you say "awww le petit ânon <3" and let you pet her tiny nose. (More nose photos in this post if you missed it)

Donkey #ah no wait here's Ugolin again

He actually overcame his intense fear of Pandolf to come trap us in his forcefield of infinite neediness! I'm proud of him.

Donkey #4 — MYRTILLE.

Myrtille is in her mid-thirties, and did not come to the donkey fair to demonstrate any particular skills or be admired by us, but because she likes to meet new donkeys. She was not tethered to the rope and yet did not wander around to mingle with humans like other untied donkeys did; she shuffled from one end of the rope to the other like a friendly pensioner at a continental breakfast buffet, making small talk with everyone. It was hard to approach Myrtille (as a human) without feeling like a third wheel.

I don't mean to gossip, but she spent quite a while flirting with the glossy black donkey.

I love her. She's my favourite. I was not able to pet her or take a good close-up photo of her but that's okay. Myrtille is like a tempting rollercoaster at an amusement park that you are barred from by the sign that says "You must have ears THIS long to go any farther." I wish her only good things.

[carebeardean]

Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.

Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.

So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.

then Edwin starts writing back.

Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.

Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.

Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.

Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).

Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.

[morganbritton132]

More add-ons to the Steve Has Older Siblings agenda:

1. Steve would love for no one he talks to on a regular basis to ever meet any of his family but he’s not mad about Jason coming into Scoops Ahoy to be a dick to him and promptly having Robin say, “Wow. You’re going to act like that with that hairline? Bold.”

Its the first time she has said anything even somewhat nice to/about/for him. (She finds out post-Starcourt that Steve has a brother)

2. Their dad threatened to cut them out of their inheritance if they didn’t spend half the summer at his house at least until they finished an undergrad. Coincidentally, this time always corresponds to when Richard and Angela have to travel out of town to meet with an “important client.” This is somehow Steve’s fault.

3. One time for the entire summer, all three of them pretended he was invisible. It made him cry multiple times. They still make jokes about it even though they’re trying to be better siblings to him because being an asshole is inherited from your father and the only way to get rid of that trait is to have it beaten out of you.

4. When the fire department came to school and walked them through a house fire simulation, Steve thought it was so cool that he reacted it at home with a smoke machine pressed up against Claire’s bedroom door. She did not appreciate the fire safety lesson.

5. Everytime Tommy came over on their weekend, they all made a point to talk about how much they liked Tommy and how cool Tommy was. Tommy was the little brother they always wanted. No reason. Just being assholes.

[inkskinned]

i keep thinking about hobbies and how i often spill over myself to pick up new ones. i have adhd, i end up trying something for like a month and then just getting far enough in it that i move on, satisfied.

and that should be fine; but it's never fine.

i am a pretty decent artist; but i can't just make art for my dnd campaign, i should be selling dnd maps and character designs and scene setting pieces. i can't just make my friends matching earrings, i need to get an etsy and ship them internationally and take bulk orders. i make pretty good props and decorations and use them to throw my friends parties - but i should be running a party planning business and start taking paying clients and networking and putting my skills to actual use.

for some reason, i never figured out the specifics of pottery. it was a fun class and i enjoyed myself - and still, i'm embarrassed, years later, that i put in all that useless effort. everything i make has to be stunning. stellar. i should have applied myself more. maybe i'm too lazy. maybe i'm broken and selfish and needy. actually creative people would have kept going; they would be bettering themselves at every possible opportunity.

we find ourselves in this trap, even accidentally: we need to commodify our time, because it is a commodity. if we spend our efforts and our time not earning, isn't that the same thing as burning free money? and god forbid you ever take up a hobby that ends up being more expensive than you thought. you sit in your car and you look at the receipt and in your head you hear a conversation that isn't even happening - your mom or your friend or your partner all saying oh great. not this shit again. it's always something with you, and it never actually means anything.

i have realized this horrible thing, recently - i'll get excited to start a project, pick up a new hobby. and then i just... stop myself. i start thinking about the amount of time it will take, and how it'll look in my monthly budget. what if i can't even produce a good enough final product. sure, it's exciting to think about how i could make my friend her own custom dice. but i'm just polluting the earth if i don't get it right. better not bother. better not try.

restless, i get caught in the negative space. the feeling that oh god, i want to create. and that horrible sense - yeah, but i don't have the time to just put to waste.

[a-ramlethal-fan]

ngl i ran out of captions so uuuh have bridget and ram. i call it ramburi, please clap now.

[starry-bi-sky]

The first time disciple Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu meets Liu Qingge, it is during a Bai Zhan peak raid. And what ends up happening is that Shen Qingqiu gets kicked in the jaw with such force he feels his teeth clack together unpleasantly. And frustrated with his situation, the system, and quite frankly a ton of other little things that have been building up over the course of the last few weeks, he feels something snap in the back of his mind like that of a rubber band after being stretched too far.

What ends up happening is that Shen Qingqiu turns and locks onto the very first figure he can see that is dressed in grey-and-white like a homing missile, and then with the force of a twin-tailed mountain tiger, lunges towards said figure with an equally menacing snarl.

He ends up taking the Bai Zhan peak disciple by utter surprise, and they both collide into the ground in a tangle of angry yelling and limbs. What ends up happening is that Liu Qingge gets the subsequent wind knocked out of him and pinned into the dirt by a Qing Jing peak disciple who is filled with the might and fury of a scholar having their peaceful afternoon interrupted and a once-grown-man re-experiencing puberty.

It is with that might and fury that Liu Qingge meets the wild, frenzied eyes of Shen Qingqiu, with his lips pulled back into a truly ferocious scowl. Shen Qingqiu hisses out, with such force it makes his voice rasp, as if he might as well sink his teeth into Liu Qingge's throat and rip it out; "Get the fuck off my mountain."

Liu Qingge is so shocked by -- well, quite a many things, but most importantly the fact that he has been pinned, and the way the sun is bouncing off this boy's face, -- that his brain needs five seconds to reboot. It's five seconds too long, because by the time he registers what just happened, Shen Yuan has clambered off him and disappeared. Gone and thrown himself into the closest dust cloud scuffling in order to unleash the rest of his fury on the other Bai Zhan Peak kids.

Qing Jing Peak experiences an unfortunate uptick in Bai Zhan disciple visits -- specifically of the Liu Qingge variety. Specifically Liu Qingge, actually. Who very much wants to find the boy that managed to get one over on him and demand a rematch. (Or maybe kiss him.)

[idyllcy]

please? - jaime reyes x reader (nsfw warning)

Jaime pants, one brow furrowed, sweat dripping down his hair as he cages you in, lips pressed to yours feverishly, whimpering. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he fucks you, sound of the bed creaking as he does. He's sure Khaji Da's mentioning his dopamine and endorphins levels are off the charts alongside his quickened heartbeat, but you're just so irresistible when you're whimpering his name like that. Besides, it's a great stress reliever and post-fight reward. Ugh. He pauses slightly, pushing his hair back as you exhale shakily.

"What? Tired already, mi amor?" You hum, lips quirked upward, expression changing as he thrusts into you again. 

"You're really chatty, mi vida." Jaime mumbles. "Maybe if you didn't look so good, I wouldn't stop to admire your beauty so often."

Jaime looks down as you clench on him from the compliment.

"You're such a womanizer, mi amor." You mumble. 

"Only you get to hear things like this." He hums, thumb finding your clit as he starts again, slower this time, holding you down as he forces you to feel every inch of you, eyes enamored as he watches himself disappear into you slowly, holding you down so you can't squirm.

"Jaime." You gasp. "Please."

"Please what, mi vida? You know you have to say it." He smiles cheekily.

"Harder? Please?" You try, voice coming out weak. 

"Of course." He presses a kiss to the corner of your eye. "All you had to do is ask."

and Jaime loves gently, a reminder that he was affectionate with you no matter the situation, skin pressed to yours, lips pressed to yours, fingers laced with yours— he was yours from the inside out.

[purple-plum-petals]

Key:

✔️ = SFW Content 🔞 = NSFW Content, Minors Do Not Interact ⚠️ = Potentially Triggering Subject Matter (Bullying, Discussions of Poor Mental Health, SA, etc.)

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ 

 ► Mr. Crawling ⌦ Comforting His S/O When They Don't Feel Like They're Enough: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons/Scenario, Angst+Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), ⚠️, ✔️

⌦ Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair Finding Adult Magazines and Showing Them to Their S/O (Poly), Minors Do Not Interact!!: Coming Soon!      ➥ Drabble, Fluff+Smut, AFAB!Reader, Romantic (♥), 🔞

⌦ NSFW Alphabet (A-Z), Minors Do Not Interact!!: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons, Smut, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), 🔞

⌦ Hearing You Sing for the First Time: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons/Scenario, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

► Mr. Gap ⌦ The First Time You Kiss Him      ➥ Drabble, Fluff+Angst, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️ ⌦ Reaction to the Reader Blowing Him a Kiss      ➥ Headcanons, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⌦ What It's Like Cuddling Him: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⌦ Hearing You Sing for the First Time: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons/Scenario, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ 

 ► Mr. Silvair ⌦ Teaching Him How to Say "I Love You" in Your Language      ➥ Drabble, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), ✔️

⌦ Reaction to the Reader Blowing Him a Kiss      ➥ Headcanons, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⌦ Comforting His S/O When They Don't Feel Like They're Enough: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons/Scenario, Angst+Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), ⚠️, ✔️

⌦ Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair Finding Adult Magazines and Showing Them to Their S/O (Poly), Minors Do Not Interact!!: Coming Soon!      ➥ Drabble, Fluff+Smut, AFAB!Reader, Romantic (♥), 🔞

⌦ NSFW Alphabet (A-Z), Minors Do Not Interact!!: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons, Smut, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), 🔞

⌦ Hearing You Sing for the First Time: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons/Scenario, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ 

 ► Mr. Chopped ⌦ Reaction to the Reader Blowing Him a Kiss      ➥ Headcanons, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⌦ Mr. Chopped with an S/O Who Loves Randomly Kissing Him      ➥ Headcanons, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), ✔️

⌦ Hearing You Sing for the First Time: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons/Scenario, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ 

 ► Mr. Machete ⌦ Reaction to the Reader Blowing Him a Kiss      ➥ Headcanons, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⌦ Hearing You Sing for the First Time: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons/Scenario, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⌦ What It's Like Being in a Relationship with Him: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), ✔️

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ 

 ► Mr. Hood ⌦ Comforting His S/O When They Don't Feel Like They're Enough: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons/Scenario, Angst+Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), ⚠️, ✔️

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ 

 ► Mr. Scarletella ⌦ Reaction to the Reader Blowing Him a Kiss      ➥ Headcanons, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic or Platonic (♥/♡), ✔️

⌦ Mr. Scarletella Being Physically Affectionate Because He's Jealous of Mr. Crawling: Coming Soon!      ➥ Drabble, Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), ✔️

⌦ Comforting His S/O When They Don't Feel Like They're Enough: Coming Soon!      ➥ Headcanons/Scenario, Angst+Fluff, GN!Reader, Romantic (♥), ⚠️, ✔️

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

[supermanddntdieforthis]

My coworker: your drawings are really good.

Me: Oh, thank you! 👀

The drawing in question:

[twistmusings]

Character Analysis of the Twisted Wonderland Dorm Rooms - Octavinelle

Dorm Room Character Analysis Series

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul actually has a lot of little touches in his room that are very cute. For one thing, his general decor lends itself to the idea that Azul likes the finer things in life. Truthfully, all of the dorm rooms are have shown a lot of attention to the character's actual stylistic preferences in the Guest room and Azul is no exception.

Rather than having a bedside table, Azul has a second safe in his room in addition to the large one he has in his office. This is interesting because, well, that means that there's things that are likely more important to him than the contracts he kept in his vault in his office. I'm certainly curious about what sort of thing Azul would choose to keep in a personal vault - are they especially important contracts to him? Money? Or, perhaps, just other things that are especially special to him. I know the kneejerk reaction for a lot of folks is to be that it's where he stores his coin collection, however...

Azul actually displays his coin collection in a frame! He has them mounted in velvet.

Several of the other characters have featured a feather pen and ink bottles in their room, however a cute touch is that Azul's pen is actually fish bones. This is a cute little insight into what they may use for pens underneath the Coral Sea. Or, perhaps, Azul just has a flare for the dramatic.

Azul has a trunk and several potion bottles on top of his wardrobe. The fact that Azul has these out in the open on top of the trunk likely means that all of the items in the trunk were potion bottles, and then because they were stored up so high, he placed the ones he commonly uses on top, rather than storing them back inside the trunk. Azul is otherwise very organized, so it would make logical sense that if he's not putting these away, they're likely out because he knows he's going to reach for them again.

This is honestly probably my favorite detail in Azul's room because these are terrariums. Azul never mentions having any interest in Terrariums, but Jade does, meaning that these are likely terrariums that Jade made for Azul and gave him as gifts. This is actually really cute, because though the Leech twins joke about leaving Azul as soon as he becomes boring in canon, this shows that Jade at the very least thinks of Azul in his free time when he's not at work or around Azul by obligation, enough to have given him gifts. it's also worth noting that Azul has these displayed, which means that they aren't a gift that's rotting away in a drawer or stowed away somewhere. It's also worth mentioning that the ones that have plants in them are alive, which requires at least some level of attention to them in order to maintain the environment inside. Little things like this show how much the characters actually care about each other.

Azul's hidden Mickey is next to his shelf of terrariums.

Jade Leech

Jade is an interesting case because he, like Ruggie and Trey, doesn't actually have much displayed in his room in terms of decoration. That being said, what he does have displayed are his terrariums. Jade being the sole member of the Mountain Lover's club, it seems like he probably spends a lot of his free time out and tending to either his plants in the greenhouse or actually hiking.

This isn't likely directly because of Jade, however it seems like Octavinelle as a whole have coat hangers and hat racks that are themed around octopi, which is possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen.

Jade is notably organized - he has his shoes on his shoe rack, his hat and scarf hung up, and his bed made. This will become more important when you see Floyd's half of the room.

There is also this object. While I'm not certain and it doesn't seem to be mentioned in any of Jade's vignettes outright, I suspect this may be a jewelry box. It's a little hard to tell in comparison to a lot of the items in the student rooms, though, so if anyone has any additional input, please let me know! Neither of the other two from Octavinelle have an object like this one in their rooms.

Jade's Hidden Mickey is on one of his terrariums.

Fun fact, Jade AND Floyd both have errors in their Night 2 versions of their backgrounds, as they are both missing the hidden Mickey.

Floyd Leech

Oh, Floyd, sweetheart, you live like this?

Jokes aside, Floyd actually has some things of note! While his side of his and Jade's room (canonically they share a room) is messy, he's messy in a different fashion than someone like Leona. Where Leona doesn't hang his clothes - Floyd does. Or at the very least, it seems like someone does it for him. (Given the haphazard hanging of his jacket, though, I would guess that he probably does it himself.) What does that tell us? Well, more than likely, Floyd gets small bursts of motivation to clean certain aspects of his room, and then grows bored and gives them up. To be quite honest, for those who know of or experience it, Floyd's organization style reminds me a lot of how ADHD folks tend to struggle with forming sustainable cleaning habits, as it's often easier to put something down rather than to put it away.

Snacks, literally everywhere. Floyd has snacks on his desk as well as on the shelf above his bed. It would seem that Floyd has a serious sweet-tooth, given the amount of sweets that we see in his room.

For the life of me, I could not tell you if this is a trash bin or not, but if it is, it looks like whatever Floyd put in there has teeth marks on it.

Another thing of note about Floyd's room, while there's a lot of things that are strewn around, there's not actually all that much trash around. He has a single empty container on his desk, but otherwise his floors are clean, and it seems like things that need to end up disposed are. Again, whether or not that's Jade intervening because they share a room, it's hard to say.

Floyd's hidden Mickey is on his pillow.

As was mentioned in Jade's section, both Floyd and Jade's Night 2 versions of their backgrounds are missing the hidden Mickey. Floyd's background has an additional error however!

Floyd's box of cookies is actually missing the box in his Night 2 artwork. If I had to guess, since I have experience with digital art, more than likely, the layer containing these details was accidentally deleted when making the edits for the Night 2 cards, resulting in these things disappearing when the background were published. It's a minor error, all things considered, and gave me a little giggle because now it just looks like Floyd has haunted cookies floating in his room.

Addendum

Excellent catch by @twistedminutia that Azul's fish bone pen is likely in reference to the pen Ariel signs her contract with in the original movie! (To be quite honest, and I know this is ironic given that this blog has such a heavy octavinelle theming, but the little mermaid was my least favorite Disney movie growing up, so I never would have caught this myself!)

[hedgehog-moss]

The story of my 3-year-long quest to identify a very rare bird

So I've been trying almost since I moved here to figure out what bird made this strange call that I sometimes heard near my house:

I tried to google "european bird that sounds like a laughing hyena?" and also to imitate the noise over the phone for a friend who once took an online bird course, but she had no idea. (Well, she said "that's a hyena." I said, "but I hear it all the time! Near my house!! Wait I'll do it better." She said, please stop making a hyena noise :(( and I stopped because the cats thought I was losing my mind)

Eventually I managed to record the actual bird call on my phone, and used a Shazam app for birds—but once again, no luck. The first app I tried just assumed it was being trolled and was like "it's you, isn't it? That's not a bird that's your stupid human laugh, you're making fun of me. I'm not an idiot"

The second birdsong app was more insecure and apologised a lot for failing to identify my bird. I thought it must be a rare bird! (The only uncommon bird I know of in this region is the vulture but it sounds less like a hyena and more like if elephants were birds.) Every time I heard the call (usually during the day) I opened the window trying to a) get a better recording so my app would finally have an epiphany, and b) see something flying off a tree.

At one point I was cutting brooms in the pasture and heard the call very loudly, as if the bird was just a few metres away, and it wasn't coming from the sky. I googled every possible version of "flightless (?) bird that nests in thorny bushes?" and found nothing, and started wondering if it was actually a mammal. But I couldn't think of any plausible local mammal that would make this sound—definitely not a fox or badger, who say WAOOHHH, and nothing like the polite whistle of marmots. We've got pine martens in the woods and I found a video called "mating pine marten scream bark" and thought oh!! that must be it! ... but then I listened to it and it sounded like yiiiaaaaaeeeeee, like if you stepped on a baby banshee's toe, nothing at all like the heheeheuruurhh of a hyena who just heard a good joke.

Anyway, this morning I was in the pasture and I once again heard the hyena laugh! I was standing by the moose butler tying up the hay net, away from any trees or shrubs and the call came from just behind me. I turned around thinking there was absolutely no way for the mystery bird to hide, it had landed on the ground behind me and this time I was going to see it!

And

it was HER:

Absolutely no doubt. I saw Pampy's throat vibrating along with the last echoes of the hyena laugh. All these years I've been saying that llamas are very quiet animals who just make cute little "hum-hum" sounds (I rarely hear adult llamas humming to one another, it's mostly for mother llamas to communicate with their baby and with me) and I had no idea that the shrieking hyena-bird I occasionally heard outside my house was Pampelune! I googled "llama alarm cry" and immediately found youtube videos featuring llamas making this exact sound. There was a stray dog nearby this morning that Pandolf eventually chased away, so maybe Pampy was the first to hear him and sounded the alarm. Maybe she uses this cry to tell Pan to go do his guard dog job, because he left the pasture and ran into the woods when she made the sound (while I was turning round like "aha! you can't run, hyena-bird!")

I wanted to share this discovery! I've had llamas for nearly 4 years and I'm only now finding out that they can laugh like hyenas when the situation calls for it. I feel bad for the poor birdsong app that I've repeatedly gaslighted feeding it a llama call and insisting that it identify this bird for me while it hung its head in shame like "I swear I don't have your bird in my database. I'm so sorry. I'm a bad app."

Llamas are fascinating creatures. Please experience their majestic alarm call again, and be alarmed:

[tusks-and-claws]

The Death of Peace of Mind

Miguel O’hara x female reader

Summary: "I miss the way you say my name/the way you bend, the way you break"

You think your fearless leader needs help relaxing, but another door is opened entirely

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, fingering, blowjob, pronebone, blood, biting, unprotected sex, paralytic venom, dominant Miguel, dirty talk, God there’s so much to list : )

Word count: 3.3k 

Can also be found on Ao3 here. Please give it some love if you enjoyed ;_;

-

"I know better than this, I shouldn't be… we shouldn't be doing this."

Miguel O'Hara sat at the edge of your bed, your room softly illuminated by a candle on the bedside table. He liked the dark. His back was to you, his broad shoulders slumped forward, as you had your back against your headboard. He was still in his suit, his mask off.

"Miguel…" you said, starting this conversation again for the umpteenth time. "You have needs, too, y'know." 

He waved a hand dismissively. "What are my needs when compared to all this?" He gestured to nothing. You weren't even at HQ. You were both in your dimension. A vacation, you had said. You could never get him to leave HQ for long. "I know what happens when I try to get what I want. When I go where I don't belong."

You furrowed your brow. "But you do belong here, I invited you."

"You know exactly what I mean." He spoke quickly. Trying to expel the words as fast as possible. 

Your arms crossed over your chest as you eyed him. He'd been through a lot, yes, but what Spider hadn't? How long was he going to keep ignoring himself for the greater good? What purpose would he serve if he tore himself apart? 

"You're right," you said, finally. 

"What?" He asked, peering over his shoulder to look at you, incredulous. 

"You're right," you repeated. "You can leave."

"I… well. I suppose I can leave. Do you… want me to?"

You suppressed a smile. "I don't really care," you lied. 

"You…?" He turned around at that, hands on the bed as he swiveled his torso to meet your eyes. "You can't be serious. I- I made the effort to make sure Jess could cover me so we could come here, I… it's a huge waste of time. You see that, don't you?" 

"I guess so." It was hard for you to break eye contact with him, but you managed to do it, and stared pointedly out the window. 

"You 'guess,' I can't-" he rubbed his face with his hands. "You're so frustrating, I can't read you, you-" 

Your face broke, betraying you, a smirk cracking your façade.

He narrowed his eyes, fully turning around now, bringing his knees up onto the bed to crawl to you. His claws came out, and they pulled at the threads of your comforter, threatening to tear holes. "Is this what you want? You want to make me mad?" 

You blushed as he made his way to you, his sudden intensity stirring you into silence. 

"Well?" He asked. "Suddenly so quiet." He reached you now, looming over you with both hands on the headboard on either side of you, his muscular thighs straddling your legs. His huge frame took up your whole vision, his presence overwhelming your heightened senses. Heat was radiating from his body. His scent washed over you. He was all clean musk and warmth and something deeper, something primal. It played to your baser mind, telling you to lose control and give in. 

You swallowed. "You have no need to stay here." You weren't done teasing him just yet. 

"But you have need, hm?" He looked down to study your form, releasing his hands from the headboard to touch the hem of your shirt. "Don't you?"

You held your breath, nodding.

"Say it." His tone was casual. Flippant.

Your breath left you as your lips parted to speak, the words far from you as your brain grew foggy. He always liked to hear you admit how much you wanted it, how much you wanted him. And he always asked you when he knew you'd struggle to form a response. 

"Yes." It was the only thing your brain made abundantly clear. Yes. Yes, you have needs. Yes, in this moment, he was one of them. 

"Yes what?"

How cruel. Under his gaze for this long, intense and bloodshot, you grew more flustered and delirious. 

"Yes, Miguel, I have need of you." You impressed yourself with the eloquence of your reply. 

"Oh? Oh, do you?" His hands finally moved again, snaking under the bottom of your shirt, the fabric of his suit keeping your skin from touching his. "That's kind of selfish of you, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes as his hands moved to firmly hold the sides of your waist, thumbs stroking soft skin. He was being careful to not scratch you. Though his claws were retractable, you noticed throughout your encounters that he had a hard time keeping them hidden when his passions were running high. But part of you didn't care if he marked you up. Part of you wanted to keep something from him. Something more than awkward passing glances and intimate encounters that were few and far between. 

"M-Miguel?"

"Mm? What is it?"

"You don't need to be gentle, y’know."

His gaze flicked to meet yours as he raised an eyebrow. He seemed amused. 

"It's just that," for some reason, you felt the need to elaborate. "I'm strong, too. I can handle it. You've been so stressed."

"So… you want me to use you?" His voice was low and level. 

Use. The word sent a shock up your spine. He could see the emotions flashing across your face, the thoughts of him, of what he might do to you. Was this safe? Could he control himself? He'd have to. You'd just have to trust him. 

You released a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, meeting him in his bloodshot eyes. "Yes. Please."

He grinned, bearing his pearly fangs in the flickering candlelight. The fog in your head grew thicker at the sight of them. Would he bite you with them? How would they feel against your skin? How would they feel piercing you? Would it hurt? Would it-

The feeling of his bare forefinger, claw retracted, gently teasing your slit quickly shut you up. When did he move his hand under the hem of your shorts? You were so deep within your own clouded thoughts, you hadn't even noticed. He caressed you there before carefully plunging his finger into your heat. The feeling was immediately maddening. You bit your lip to keep yourself from asking for more, for another finger, for his mouth, for his- no. You were following his pace. This was what you wanted, yes, but it was mostly for him. You somehow knew that he needed this more than you did, though he'd never admit it.

The whole time, he kept his reddened eyes on your face, studying every reaction. "You're wet, you're so wet…." His voice was quiet. "So, this is what does it for you, huh?" He pumped his finger at a steady pace. You could hear the wet sounds he elicited with his efforts. You braced yourself on his hulking shoulders, preparing for him to quicken at any moment. But he was agonizingly slow. His free hand gripped the headboard above you as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. "Me, your leader, using you." There was that word again. You lightly arched your back into him upon hearing it, trying to keep yourself calm for now. Falling apart could come later. "I try so hard to hold it all together. But you… you threaten me. The looks you give me, your smiles, your smell, estoy cachondo, fuck." Your eyes widened. He only spoke Spanish when his emotions were heightened. He was unraveling. 

Good.

He slipped his digit out from inside of you and circled your clit with a slick fingertip. The feeling was intense and electric, and even though you were still half-pinned by his muscular thighs, your upper body curled into him. "Seeing you like this…" he swallowed, his heartbeat quickening. "Rendering you helpless��� It's revenge for how you make me feel when you look at me the way you do. If I can make you feel half of that… that might be enough. You're going to come for me. Feel what I feel." 

You nodded fervently, unable to speak under his attention, his words, his touch. That delicious, warm feeling was building up and coiling in your core as he kept expertly circling your clit, until the coil finally snapped and you came, lifting up off of the bed and throwing your arms around his neck as you whimpered. Miguel continued as you rode it out, reveling in the newfound wetness that came with your orgasm, until you finally settled down, your heart still thumping in your chest. You released your hold of him, your arms weak, your gaze heavy. He seemed to match your labored breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with yours. You had hardly even touched him and he seemed as much of a mess as you were. 

He stared at you like that for a brief moment, seemingly awestruck at your reaction to this newly opened door. 

"God, I need… I need your mouth around my cock." He flipped unceremoniously off of you to lay on his back at your side. "Come here." Before you had time to react, he had a hand on your head, guiding you downward. Despite the forceful movement, he fondly scratched at your scalp with bare fingers, his hand shaking just enough for you to notice. You positioned yourself so your head rested on his hard abdominals while you admired the display he brought you down to see. His hard cock pushed against his nearly metallic suit. The sheen of the fabric left almost nothing to the imagination. You could see his thick shaft, prominent veins like rivers flowing over a landscape, all leading up to the bulbous head. He twitched eagerly as he sighed, trying to calm his heart. 

You reached your hand up to touch Miguel through his suit, and his reaction was bodily. He hissed a breath in through clenched teeth. You played with his hard length, running the flat of your palm up and down the underside of his shaft, until he couldn't take it anymore. He seemed to be able to dismiss parts of his suit at will, and he did just that, creating an opening so he could spring free. It was always an impressive sight, sizable and thick. His golden skin slightly red with anticipation at the head of his cock, soft dark waves of short hair at the base. Reaching up, you gently held it. You couldn't quite wrap your whole hand around it. He exhaled at your touch, skin on skin. The hand he had in your hair gently pushed your head until your waiting lips met the tip of his cock, and you accepted it, closing your mouth around it.

Miguel threw his head back, slamming it against the headboard and shaking the two of you on the bed. The sound startled you, but you knew the headboard would've taken more damage than Miguel. He gave no indication that he was hurt, and so you kept going, sucking on the tip of his cock and being as noisy as possible so it would overwhelm that heightened hearing of his. And overwhelm it did. The soft, wet heat of your mouth was nearly too much for him. And as you started to take him deeper, he reached his arms up and behind him, taking the headboard into a vice grip. You could hear the wood splintering. 

That should've worried you, you should've cared about your furniture being destroyed. But you didn't. You couldn't, not with Miguel O'Hara melting underneath you. He could destroy a thousand bed frames. So long as you could touch him, could hear him moaning, could watch him as he barely held his composure. This would always be worth it. 

You took him further into your mouth, humming around his length at the pleasant,  full feeling. You were slow, holding him there, savoring the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.

"M-move-" he croaked.

You turned your gaze towards his face, raising an eyebrow. He was straining. Muscles bulging, chest heaving, fangs displayed in clenched teeth. You could see the prominent cracks in the wood.

"Move your shocking head, amor."

His hands came down to tangle with your hair, grabbing handfuls so he could move your head for you. You happily let him, and he bobbed you up and down on his shaft as you opened your throat to him. 

"Oh, fuck, yes… that's it. Good girl. You're- you're taking me so fucking well." 

Your eyes started rolling into the back of your head fondly. Good girl. He'd never called you that before. You'd be good for him. You'd be so good. 

The sounds coming from you were the very definition of lewd, as were the strands of thick saliva that connected you to him. You closed your eyes, continuing to breathe through your nose, when you felt something prick your scalp. His claws. In and out, in and out. He was struggling to keep control of them.

"Ay, coño, I can't fucking do this." His voice barely a whisper. "You're gonna," he paused, swallowing. "You're gonna make me lose control, you know that?" Despite his words, he kept going, kept moving your head, even started to thrust his hips up to fuck your throat more thoroughly. His moans turned into what could only be described as growls, and the sound of them hit you like an electric shock, making you want him even more. If that were even possible. 

His claws kept scraping you, threatening to fully unsheath. But Miguel never let them. He finally let your head go, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it in exhaustion. You stayed on his cock for a moment longer, carefully lifting your head away and disconnecting from him with a wet pop.

He groaned to himself through his hands. 

"Miguel…? You alright?"

"No." He finally said, "no, I'm fucking not."

You cocked your head in surprise at the response, opening your mouth to question him further until you were cut off by him quickly grabbing you and positioning you underneath him. He was pinning your legs again, but you were faced down this time, your cheeks pressed against the soft sheets as he pushed you into the mattress. He finally let his claws out, and with one swift movement, tore your shorts and panties into ribbons. In that moment, you were glad he couldn't see your face. You were grinning like an idiot. Finally. You're finally seeing the side of him that you always knew was there. That you desperately wanted him to let out. Your previous encounters had been tame compared to this. He'd been holding back. 

"Because now," he grabbed your waist with both of his large hands, holding firm. "Now I know that you like being treated like a little fucktoy. I know that you'll be good for me and that you'll listen. What a rarity." He started to line up the tip of his cock with your entrance. "And if I thought you took up too much space in my head already, well-" he chuckled, pushing his tip into your pussy. "I'll never have peace of mind again."

He thrusted into you, and you were immediately seeing stars. With each pump, he took himself nearly all the way out of your warmth before plunging all the way back in. You could feel every delicious, hot inch of him. So deep and so filling. He fucked you into the mattress so thoroughly and so hard that you were convinced a crater was forming underneath the both of you. You felt the sharp points of his claws pricking your skin but not quite puncturing you. Your head swam as you grew dizzy. 

He released your waist, left hand steadying himself on the low headboard, which was bound to break again. His right arm snuck up underneath your right arm, reaching around your collarbone to grab at your left shoulder, pulling you up so you were close into him. His chest was flush with your back. You reached up to hold onto that arm for dear life, as he brought his mouth down to your ear. 

"Wanna bite you so bad, amor," he growled. "You smell so shocking good. Drivin' me up a fucking wall."

"Do it," you said, your voice strained.

"Wh-what?" His pace wavered. "You can't mean that."

"I- fuck- I do. Bite me, Miguel. Please."

"Are you," he exhaled a shaky breath. "Are you sure? It's a paralytic venom. I've- I've used it on Spiders before and we can withstand it a bit, but, shit… I need you to know what you're getting into." 

"Do it," you said again. 

His entire body shook against you. "Unbelievable…." His voice sounded reverent. "Hold on tight."

You listened, gripping his arm harder, shutting your eyes. His mouth came down to meet the crook of your neck. He inhaled, letting your scent wash over him, before carefully sinking his fangs into your skin. The pain was sharp and fast, and was quickly replaced with a wave of warmth and laxity. Your muscles loosened, allowing him to easily pull you in even closer. He moaned against you, his thrusts quickening, his cock feeling like it was hitting your cervix. With every smack of his skin against yours, he buried himself to the hilt. That incredible, intense feeling was building within you again, deep inside your core.

"Fuck," he hissed into your skin, releasing his jaws and lapping at the light trickle of crimson blood. "Good girl, good girl, I've got you."

He held you and didn't let go, caging you against his huge form, fucking you until that feeling turned into a huge sunburst that sent spots across your vision. Your body trembled involuntarily as you clenched around his cock. 

"Yes," he encouraged, "yes, come for me. Give it all to me. I've got you, bebé."

You smiled against the venom, and he was right, it wasn't too potent in your system. It was just enough to comfortably loosen your muscles. You came down from your high as he kept pumping into you, his pace merciless. His body started to shake again, his right hand's grip on your left shoulder tightening. 

“Too much for me to handle,” he rasped. “I’m gonna come… gonna come inside you.”

“Yes,” you croaked, finding your voice and gaining back enough control of your muscles to push yourself up into him. 

His tempo stuttered as he slammed his hips into you, curling against you as he came. His cock twitched inside of you, spilling hot seed in thick spurts. He held you there for a long while, savoring the feeling of being inside you, like he knew he'd miss the warmth once it was gone. Despite what he wanted, he let go of you and flipped onto his back beside you, placing a hand over his heart as his chest heaved. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. Silently reaching for you, he pulled you in so you could rest against his chest, your head rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. He stroked your hair as you stared up at him, his face glowing in the yellow shine of candlelight. 

"That…" he started to say, then stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I…. I needed that." 

You smiled, nuzzling into him. "Thank you." 

"You're thanking me?" He asked, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded. 

"Yeah," you said. "I feel like I finally saw Miguel tonight. Not Spider-Man. But Miguel. And I really like him." 

He rolled his eyes but still smiled, petting your head until you fell asleep on him.

[literaila]

what do you think reader, gojo, megumi, and tsumiki are doing rn 🤔

well where i’m at it’s 10:04 pm so…

gojo and you are cuddled up on the couch, probably watching reality tv. but gojo keeps talking over it so it’s really more like you’re vaguely listening to two men argue over something on the screen, and simultaneously disagreeing with everything that your husband says.

but almost mindlessly you’re kissing his cheek, a bit of a smile just curling at your lip. it’s nice when it’s quiet at home. nice when the two of you can sit here, just like this.

and if gojo happens to lean in to kiss you every once and a while—accidentally, some sort of habit—it’s fine, you suppose. he still tastes a bit like the ice cream he spoon fed you both earlier.

tsumiki is already asleep. she might be the most innocent, endearing person in the world—but it’s not without cost, okay? she is tired of carrying this family on her back. give the girl a break and at least three blankets. you probably tucked her in earlier because she fell asleep with her shoes on again.

i think megumi is reading. probably some book about world domination. and usually he would shut his door, but recently he’s found that he likes the sounds of… well, you guys. he likes it when gojo makes you laugh and it echoes down the hallway. and if you happen to bring him up—well he’ll hear that too.

megumi will go to bed after you both, the whispers of your voices luring him away. and if he wakes up with a nightmare…

we already know what happens.

[labotor]

"I'll keep your secret, DiMA."