#yay writing things

[bloodydeanwinchester]

okay one thing i love is when im having a bad writing day like the words just wont come it feels like im like having for force it and instead of just giving up im somehow able to like take a break focus on some music or something to get into the zone and then i can go back and suddenly i can do it now! and the longer i do this the more days i write the easier it seems to be to slip into this writing mode. anyway this happened earlier today and im still gonna be able to write over 1k words so im just really happy!!

[linkeduniverse]

Dawn pt. 5

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[howl-clan]

moon 5

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

It’s very simple, you wake up and you are entirely free because god died before he could give you any purpose and so there is no string pulling you in any one direction. The stars unfurl in front and behind and above and below (as much as there is an in front and behind, or, for that matter, an above and below, when you do not know where you might be headed) and they’re singing some silly song between them but just as you try to make out the tune a stranger asks you who you might be. You tell them you don’t know, on account of you were born today - or maybe yesterday just around midnight, maybe you were alive for about a minute before yesterday tipped over into now and anyway time is relative and you haven’t been around for long and god died before he could give you any instructions so you don’t really have the hang of anything yet. They ask you if you have a name of any kind and when you say you don’t they ask if you’d want one. You say you haven’t really figured out what wanting feels like yet but you’d give a name a try, just to see how one would fit. They offer you some but they’re all just words - pretty words, Azrael and Uziel and Abaddon, but none of those sound like something that would have a you attached to it, whoever you might end up being. The stranger asks if you are an angel or something else (it might help with the naming, they say, to figure out at least what you are if not who) and you say you don’t know on account god dying right after making you, and you don’t see how this would matter much seeing how whatever you are you are not driven to any grand purpose, not part of a great plan any more than the stars or the dust between them or anything else there might be, you’d just like to listen to the stars sing, wander and look for questions to look for answers to - like what else there might be besides stars and dust - and maybe talk to the stranger if they wouldn’t mind. It occurs to you to ask the stranger if they have a name and they say they’re between names, between many things really. That they had a name but then everyone who knew them by it died so the name seemed obsolete and then there was a name they were given over and over so that it seemed easier to take than refuse even though it didn't really fit and then when they did choose a name they weren't at their best and it's intertwined with too many ghosts to wear it for too long. They are thinking of Sun not because it's how they feel but because how they want to feel, what they want to be like - a name doesn't have to be a statement of fact, it can also be a memory, or a hope. So you can call them Sun but they do like stranger, and they aren't sure they're a they either but stranger is too long to say every time and nothing else fits better and they is appropriately in between of certainties and just outside of knowing. Your first worry reaches you and you ask if god dying right after making you is cause and effect or correlation rather than causation and the stranger says they don't know but either way you cannot bear the blame for other people’s choices, the actions of those that came before you shape the world and yourself but do not decide your fate, let alone your guilt. You say okay, okay. You ask the stranger where they're going and they say wherever they feel like going, and at the moment that's about here. You ask them if they could listen to the stars with you for a bit and they smile and say why not and you're not sure what a sun is but if the stranger is one of those you would really like to see them. 

[silverameco]

Only One Bed - @wolfstarmicrofic - 370 words

"I can't believe Prongs and Wormy took the twin beds while we're stuck on this awful thing. That's so homophobic of them." Sirius complained as he turned around for the umpteenth time, making the bed creak again.

The ad for the vacation home they rented said "one bedroom - two beds - four people", so they assumed it was two double beds. Except it wasn't, and James and Pete rushed to claim the two single beds for themselves, leaving Sirius and Remus to share the sofa-bed in the living room. Admittedly, Sirius didn't really fight them on it. But it was before he realized that this poor excuse for a bed was as comfortable as the floor would be, and that Remus' presence so close to him was making him nervous and restless.

"What ?" Remus chuckled from near him. "How so ?"

"Because I said so Moony." Sirius grumbled.

"Look, it's not that bad. If you could stop moving for five minutes, that is."

Sirius groaned and ignored him, moving again to find a better position, even if he wasn't sure it was possible anyway. Suddendly, an arm wraped around his waist and his back was pressed against Remus' warm chest. Sirius swallowed.

"What are you doing ?" he whispered.

"Keeping you from fucking moving."

The words were spoken directly against his neck and he had to repress a shiver. His relationship with Remus had felt like it could be something more than friends for a while now. They were slowly becoming more affectionate towards each other. It was always small things, though. A lingering touch on his arm, a furtive hand on the small of his back. Never something like this yet, something so ... forward.

Feeling like he was exploring uncharted territory, he took Remus' hand that was laying in front of him in his own, intertwining their fingers. Remus pressed his hand in answer and Sirius let out the breath he was holding. His heart was beating so fast he was sure it could be heard in the silence of the night, but he felt so, so safe. As he finally closed his eyes, he thought that maybe, it wouldn't be so bad of a night.

[valtsv]

jon ware, writer and producer of the podcast the silt verses, answering an ask about what would happen in the material world its characters live in following the finale of the series: they'd probably try to canonise shrue as a saint for their commitment to exposing the truth of the corruption at the heart of the government to the point of martyring themself for the cause

fucking loser with a one track mind on tumblr dot com: so what i'm hearing is VALshrue canonical narrative foils

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)

[chuuzmii]

Omg nobody is saying eddie is queer because he had a few bad relationships with women like can we sit here and be honest with ourselves and say that HIS RELATIONSHIPS (excluding marisol bro rlly fucked that one up) WERENT EVEN BAD!! But there have been sooo many reasons over the years to think Eddie is queer? "I don't like dating it feels like performing." Cut to Hen giving him an odd look. "Ive never seen a man turn off a woman with so much skill." "It's a gift." "They weren't my type." Like we could really keep going because the amount of tthings he says that just come off as glaringly queer is abundant. But then we can look to his past AND SEE THINGS THEREEE!!! Eddie didnt marry Shannon out of love but out of duty. Do you know how many queer men get married to women because they feel like its what they should do? Eddie isn't hanging on to Shannon out of love but because she was christophers mother. Everytime he talks about her its NEVER ABOUT HER! He never goes oh she was kind she was soft she was sweet she was literally anything a man would say about a woman they loved and lost. He just says she was Christophers mother. That doesn't sound like a man who truly romantically loved his wife.

Then moving on to Ana. She was quite literally the perfect woman. Like she stood by and helped him after he got shot and they had barely even rlly been dating when that happened. You cannot tell me that him having panic attacks every time he thinks of going any further with her isn't indication of queerness. Dude is struggling to make a family with women but is relaxed and happy making one with a man? QUEERRRRR. But once again this relationship was less about Eddie and more about Christopher. "My son loves her?" "Is that enough?" Like Buck was right it WASNT enough because he didnt even like her enough to introduce her as his gf to ravi (this was truly evil).

And okay maybe ur like "Ana was his first gf after Shannon ofc he was having panic attacks!" But then look at what happened with Marisol.. he tried to go a step further with her then immediately regretted it and asked her to leave right after. He struggles in all of his relationships because he cannot bring himself to feel what he's supposed to feel for them. I also truly believe the Kim thing was partially him self sabotaging his relationship.

I could honestly keep going and talk about the military and toxic masculinity, i could bring up him having to be the "man" of his house, hell i could bring up marisol being a nun. This MAN IS QUEER TO MEEEEEEE

[bugdews]

i like this au a normal amount (twitching )

[stormyelliotwritez]

ok ik youre not taking requests rn (btw hope u have a good time during ur break) but whenever you can itd be much appreciated if you could continue the ftmxlogan fic (the one where the reader thinks hes straight but hes not) i love your work. You may further it however you like, but i personally am looking for like a supportive logan who tries understanding your identity.

Ty :3

HIIIIIIIIII IM BACK and yeah, i had a good break and now im here to make ya happy with supportive logan!!! SILLY BOY TIME!

HE’S NOT STRAIGHT?

(pt 2 of but he’s straight)

He dragged you along to the teacher’s lounge and then promptly pushed you into a seat. Without saying absolutely anything, he grabbed two beers from the fridge and then sat down next to you.

“Here ya go, bub,” he said as he held one out to you.

You took it and relaxed into the chair. He watched you for a moment before opening his beer with one claw. Damn, that’s hot. He obviously noticed your staring and slight blush and so he held his hand out, one claw still out.

“Want me to open yours?”

You nodded slowly. Damnit, why’d your words stop working? Why now? You’re literally sitting in the teachers lounge with the most hottest man ever who you’ve had a crush on for years and now your words aren’t working? Talk about bad timing!

He smirked and with that one claw, he popped the lid off your beer. He did it slowly and absolutely knew what he was doing to you. He wasn’t stupid, after all.

“So you have a crush on me, huh?” He asked with a s smirk.

You nodded again, trying to coax the words out of your mouth.

“Have for a while. Sorry,” you said quietly.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” He said before leaning forwards and taking a swig from his bottle.

He stared into your eyes before blinking and leaning back again. He was thinking. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t figure out how to. How do you explain that you thought he would never like you?

“Well because I’m me and I’m not- I’m not like you. I’m different,” you managed to mumble.

One of his eyebrows raised and he stared at you. It was like he could see into your soul. He couldn’t but it sure felt like it.

“Because you weren’t born a boy, right? Is that what you’re getting at, bub?”

His voice was quiet and thoughtful. It sounded like he understood. Could he understand? You’d always thought no one would understand you.

Eventually, you nodded and glanced away from him.

With a finger, he moved your face back to look at him and tutted at you.

“Don’t look away from me, okay? I ain’t gonna think of you different so how about you explain it to me, the old geezer, yeah?”

You nodded and slowly you smiled. Maybe this would be okay. Maybe he could understand.

“Um, so I was born�� a girl, ew, but when I started growing up, I realized I didn’t like that that much and eventually I figured out that I was a boy so I was trans,” you said slowly, trying to make sense.

He nodded along and rested his hand on your knee, squeezing it every so often. He took a swig of his beer as he listened intently.

“And when I ended up here as an adult, I was able to get on T and so now I look more like a man and I’m happier,” you finished.

You drunk some more of your beer and he smiled. He squeezed your knee again.

“Well you’re a hot man, thats for sure,” he chuckled.

You started blushing and chuckled before taking another sip. That wasn’t what you’d been expecting but it made you happy. He made you happy.

You two sat in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company, until Logan cleared his throat.

“I want to understand you more, bub. I wanna be there for you, okay? Can I do that for you?”

This sounded like maybe he was reciprocating your crush but maybe not. That was probably too hopeful.

You nodded and smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that, Log.”

He smiled as well and leaned in slightly. “And I’d like to maybe take ya out sometime as well.”

Okay, there it was. He reciprocated and you had to try so hard to not jump up and scream from excitement.

“Yeah, I’d really like that, Logan,” you said with a soft smile.

[fistfuloflightning]

The moment Luo Binghe is shoved backwards into the Endless Abyss, he knows he will never return. No one comes back from the Abyss, the rift torn through reality. Doubly so, now that the seal upon his demonic heritage is shattered.

He sees Shizun’s face twist in something complicated and horrible, even as it grows smaller and finally disappears.

But he doesn’t ever hit the ground. Instead, warm water closes over his head and the force of his fall drives him deep. The water seems too thick around him and eventually even his cultivator’s lungs need a reprieve. And when he involuntarily opens his mouth all he tastes is blood.

Luo Binghe panics, gasping for air that is not there and searching blindly for the surface. And somehow he finds it, clawing his way out of the blood like some half-dead thing. There is blood in his eyes, he’s completely coated in it. He probably looks like a monster.

Somewhere to his side there’s the sound of people jumping to their feet, cries of shock and fear.

“Jiejie! Get Wei-gongzi! Now!”

Next

[tummietown]

the feminine urge to curl up inside a warm, breathing belly as a way to escape from the horrors of the real world

nothing would make me feel more secure than being cradled in the hands of someone so unfathomably giant and so, so, so kind. i need that right now. i need to be cared for. the thought of tender fingers curling around me as their maw opens up, a large, soft tongue curling around me slowly, reminding me of what i'm getting myself into. they'd be taking their time so as not to alarm me. with every twitch and jolt of my tiny body they would hesitate, afraid to startle me. as they hold their mouth open, warm breaths akin to that of a sugary-scented summer's breeze would wash over me in a steady, rhythmic pace. i would imagine the movement of their lungs as they breathe, envisioning each organic swell and contraction. they'd take pleasure in knowing what all i'd be thinking, aware after a certain point that my sheepish behavior is not fear, but rather,, something more light-hearted.

and then, i'd be pulled in. the light from the outside world would fade, replaced by a pitch-blackness unlike anything else. it's a comforting, breathing darkness that swallows me whole. this darkness is alive, and it tells me to simply relax. there is no need to strain my eyes with the light in an obnoxious, heartless world. darkness inside of them is where i find peace. besides, i know i'm not alone. if i was alone, the ground would not be shifting and squirming. there would be a soft *squelch* as the saliva trapped underneath their tongue is shifted about, eliciting a chuckle from me. i'd almost be able to feel the way they'd smile around me, knowing at the very least that they got me to laugh if nothing else. my laugh would trail off as my hands brush against their teeth, sharpened at the tips and yet completely harmless to me. to the lasagna i fixed from earlier, no, but i'm alive. i'm a person. they're free to tear into that lasagna as much as they'd like, matter of fact! i worked hard on it. me, however? i'm delicate to them. they know they must be gentle with me. they'd never use their teeth to hurt me. though, i do recognize that they'd like me to pay attention to those teeth of theirs. their tongue, soft and folded underneath me, would move to poke at the divot in one of their molars, bringing my attention to it in the process. i'd smooth my trusting hand over their molar and thumb at every individual detail. it's fascinating, really. i think a big reason why vore intrigues me so much to begin with is because it's all so terribly captivating. everything is alive, and everything alive surrounds me. it's comforting.

i really think we need to appreciate just how nice mouths are, y'know? i think that's an underrated part in vore. there's so much material, and yet it goes untouched for the most part, but i digress

we'd need to move on eventually. their maw would start to fill up with drool, and since i would have been anticipating the upcoming part, i'd already be comfortable and prepared for their tongue to lift, lift, lift, and send me sliding down their throat into a hot, pulsing abyss. every inch of my body would be coated in a thick blanket of slobber by this point, and i imagine that'd definitely make the journey down their esophagus much, much easier. i think most people fail to realize just how challenging it'd be to swallow someone whole without chewing, regardless of their size. or maybe we choose to overlook it bc vore can't technically exist at all irl anyway idk. i like to ramble lol

at some point, the tight, throbbing walls of their gullet would transition into a different space. i'd slip inside, recognizing my ability to move around and get comfortable unlike the other organ i was squeezed into after their swallow. as i'd lean my head back against the fleshy abdominal wall behind me, i'd feel a lack of resistance comparable to a beanbag chair and how it feels to lay in one. the walls would adjust to this new weight, moving to surround me. i would be cradled and held. adored instinctively. their stomach doesn't obviously have cognitive thought, but somewhere within the deep recesses of their mind, their brain perceives me as being more than just sustenance. i am loved here. this is my safe space, and nobody else would be able to agree. that is how i want this to be. if i could write my name somewhere in here, i would. that wouldn't last very long, though.

not a word would be exchanged between the two of us, and yet our silence holds more weight than anything we could say. my throat would feel dry, and i'd swallow a few times before raising my hand to pat at the lining of their precious gut. they'd laugh outwardly, and i'd know that if i could purr, i would be doing it. the tension in my muscles would dissolve into warmth, spreading throughout my small body. i am fragile and exposed, but that is how i like it. it's nice to feel small while being small.

for them, i'm unsure how they'd feel. i like to think that, while unnatural, this process would be enjoyable for them. the stinging ache behind their collarbone would be evidence of me, a reminder of the tiny body they carried into a comforting space. their soft fingers would rub at their neck, gracing over the spot near their adam's apple where i once was. they'd swallow again, feeling the bob of their throat. their hand would trail down to their stomach, pausing right above the taut flesh above their belly. with every rise and fall of my chest they'd feel movement, and they'd attempt to mimic it. i think they'd take in every foreign sensation one at a time, and i'd appreciate that. we're both still new to this, after all.

as they'd adjust themselves to get comfortable in bed, my environment would slowly move with me. i'd wait until i could no longer feel their movement, and then i'd curl up on my side in a small pool of gastric juices and drool. though very muffled, i'd hear the smacking of their lips and their deep, pleased hums as they savor what would be left of my recognizable taste clinging to the surfaces of their mouth. i might even hear them licking their fingers. i'd roll my eyes and bury my face into my arms, only to lift my head upon realizing that my arms are coated in slime. silly me. how could i forget? even with the constant drum of a strong heartbeat and the churning from below of a meal i prepared hours ago for them sounding all around me?

"you're a dork," i'd call out to them, my voice audibly cracking after so long of having nothing to say. the rumbling laughter that would surround me and the way their walls would squeeze around me briefly would remind me of just how small and frail i truly am within them.

"says the one who asked to be eaten earlier," they'd tease, a hint of playfulness evident in their tone. i'd scoff.

"yeah, well, i know you enjoy it. you'd be a liar to say you don't like the aftertaste i left in your mouth earlier," i would reply. they'd pause, and then i'd hear a hum without reply. being the way i am, i'd take that as surrender. not that it mattered. they'd be in a more lovey-dovey mood anyway.

the way they'd yawn would send chills speeding up my spine despite the hot, stale air within the depths of their insides. i'd reciprocate the yawn and then settle in contentedly once and for all within them, finding peace in the silence that would arise again. sometimes i like the silence between us more anyway. it's nice to enjoy your presence, especially when it's all that i can enjoy, really. i'm trapped within you. there's nothing else to focus on. everything is you. everything i look at, smell, hear, breathe in... it's you. it's all you.

thanks for that. i like being here. maybe we can do this again sometime?

[adm-starblitzsteel-4305]

YOU GUYS...

YOU GUYS ARE CRAZY AND INSANE!!! 😭

@sassyassblog

[kahvilahuhut]

wip intro: cynosure

image credit (unsplash)

For two decades, no one has touched the files of an abandoned project, once a spark of hope, now a shameful page of history. But after a violent conflict between two rivaling corporations, they have both decided to restart the project as their joint flagship project, either to show the world that they can, too, work together, or to show the other corporations they can't be beat.

While everything looks fine from the public's point of view, not everything is as well as it seems. Tensions between the two rivaling corporations, pressure in the project itself, and as a cherry on the top, concerns about the person who was picked for one of the top roles - and who had caused the previous project to end in a rather chaotic way. And who is not afraid to voice its opinions loudly again.

Cynosure follows a scientist, returning to the project it had hoped to forget, desperately trying to do things well this time, and not let others ruin it all. It also follows a corporate agent, placed into the project to watch over the work atmosphere and make sure nothing bad happens. And of course, as we all can guess, something bad happens.

status: outlining and brainstorming some more. <3

genre: soft science fiction, thriller, cyberpunk-ish?

pov: three different third person povs (Klara, Tobias & Samuel)

warnings: swearing, unethical research choices, violence, guns, murder, torture, blood, gore, alcohol, smoking, mental health problems, physical health problems, relapsing into bad habits, to be added

interested to hear more? check out the taglist

[himbohimhoe]

Holding out hope that the writing in veilguard will get more bearable but rook saying to lucanis that it's "not nice that Spite hurt him" and he "shouldn't accept that it’s fine bc it wouldn't be ok if a person did that" like. That is a demon. Built off a single emotion called SPITE. Rook I am finding it really hard to believe that u have lived in thedas for more than 30 seconds.