#tips on how to write shapeshifters

[waynes-multiverse]

Florida!!!

Summary: One fishy monster hunt, one sweaty afternoon at the beach, and one innocent popsicle – Florida is fucking hell for Dean.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: +18 language and smut in the form of dirty fantasies, severe pining, one idiot in love, humor, Florida, one popsicle, unresolved ending & feelings

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: My entry for @chevroletdean's 500 Follower Celebration! Congrats again, lovely, and thank you so much for hosting this challenge and creating this awesome moodboard!! I was immediately inspired (and have wanted to write something set in Florida for an eternity). This was perfect and so much fun! 💛🧡🩵

Main Masterlist || DW Masterlist || Tag List

Florida can eat his ass.

Dean’s decided this at least seventeen times today. He has known this little fact since the first time he set foot here at nineteen, chasing a ghoul through backyards full of pink lawn flamingos and chainlink fences.

And Dean doesn’t mean the good kind of eating ass, either. Nope, he means the swamp-ass, sunburned, get-mauled-by-an-alligator kind.

Because no matter how pretty the scenery looks – sugar-powder beaches and sea-glass tides, slats of the boardwalk bleached bone-white under a honeyed sky – the whole damn state feels cursed.

It’s humid enough to drown standing still, and the sand sticks to everything, including parts of him he’s not ready to confront.

And between the humidity thicker than chowder and the scent of fried seafood and moldy flip-flops lingering like a bad decision, every drone-sized mosquito here is carrying at least three diseases and a vendetta. The crime rate also looks like a Mad Libs page: “Florida Man assaults alligator while wearing tutu and high on bath salts.”

It’s too hot, too wet, and too damn weird and crazy. Every breath here tastes like sweat, regret, and a hint of swamp water.

Florida’s not even a real fucking state. Can’t be.

Dean’s convinced it’s a bad trip someone had in the ‘70s that somehow got voted into the union. The sun feels less like it’s shining and more like it’s attacking. Everyone’s either a retiree, a guy named Skip with a neck tattoo of a flaming dice, or some batshit meth-head who thinks they saw Bigfoot behind the Waffle House.

Dean hates it with every fiber of his being. Florida is Satan’s back porch.

And now, thanks to a string of weird drownings at a no-name beach town outside Destin, Dean is trapped in the sweaty armpit of the country, baking alive in jeans, while trying very hard not to stare at you.

Which is impossible.

Because you’re right next to him in a little turquoise lounge chair and a skimpy bikini the color of wild citrus – or tangerine, maybe. You hum a little tune – that stupid Weezer song that only plays on the radio during summer. You kick your feet lazily in the sun, flashing him a smile so bright he’s pretty sure it could get him legally blinded.

The bikini strings are tied in neat bows at your hips, a popsicle melting bright mango-orange between your fingers, and you’re working the thing over like it owes you goddamn money with the most sinful mouth he’s ever had the misfortune of knowing.

All tanned legs and unapologetic sunshine. A vision of temptation under the molten saffron sun.

Dean sweats. Internally and externally. Better than that: He is cooked. Absolutely fried. Every casual motion of yours is branding itself into his frontal lobe forever.

Your tongue flickers out again – pink and wet and glistening – smoothing a drip from the rounded tip, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re currently starring in every X-rated daydream Dean’s ever had.

His vision whites out at the edges.

You hum absently, flipping through the manila folder in your lap. Your voice floats over, sweet as saltwater taffy. “So,” you say, casual and sunny, “are we thinking mer-creature, or like, a shapeshifter with a thing for boats and aquatic cosplay? Or what if it’s a water demon? Like a kelpie, but more murdery?”

Dean makes a strangled sound that’s supposed to be a word but comes out more like a dog’s dying whimper.

You blink at him. Tilt your head. Wait.

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah. Mer-thing. Whatever.”

“Or,” you muse aloud, tongue darting out again to lap at a drip, “maybe it’s like–… like a water wraith? Something that sucks the breath outta your lungs?”

You pop the popsicle out of your mouth with an obscene little smack. Dean’s mouth works soundlessly. Because all he can imagine is you on your knees, tongue slick against him, big eyes wide and innocent while you–

Focus, he barks at himself. For the love of fucking God, focus, Winchester.

Dean swallows hard, dragging his eyes off your mouth and back down to the battered folder in your lap.

This isn’t normal. He’s doomed. Maybe even cursed.

Yeah, that’s gotta be it. He’s probably been hit with a lust spell. Florida is full of weird shit, right? That would explain why he’s three seconds away from dropping to his knees and offering to be your loyal, desperate, sunburnt servant.

But then again, this isn’t entirely new either.

You’ve been driving him nuts for goddamn years. Laughing too loud at his dumb jokes. Sitting too close in motel beds when you both casually watch movies. Calling him Winchester in that honeyed voice that makes him feel like he’s being dared to fuck up and kiss you.

And still, he’s always been good. Good at pretending. Good at stuffing all that want somewhere deep under rib and bone and battered leather jackets.

But this? This is fucking torture. This is some bikini-clad Greek tragedy, starring one dumbass in boots on a beach who can’t stop fantasizing about licking saltwater off your thighs.

He should be thinking about the case. About that water-witch or whatever the fuck they are hunting this time. He should be thinking about hex bags and salt rounds, not about how your bikini bottoms ride up just a little when you stretch your arms over your head–

Stop it!

You lean forward to show him something on a photocopied page and tap a newspaper clipping about the latest victim – some unlucky fisherman who swore he saw a “golden-scaled woman” before getting dragged into the shallows.

But the little bow at your hip shifts, skin glinting like bronzed sugar under the clear sky. Dean makes a small, wounded noise in his throat, and his brain immediately supplies another vivid fantasy:

You perched in his lap, that bow coming untied with a lazy pull of his fingers, your thighs slick and hot against him, the ocean thundering in the tropical background while you ride him so slow it borders on a religious experience.

He blinks against the burning sun, feels himself slipping again, heat and blood rushing downward. The image hits him so hard he has to adjust himself in his jeans, subtle as a heart attack.

His dick twitches miserably.

He slouches lower, trying to think of anything not filthy – taxes, Sam’s hair care routine, the time Bobby caught him naked in the kitchen with a meatball sub – but it’s useless.

“Dean? You even listening?” you ask, laughing, poking his leg with your sandy toes.

Dean grunts something noncommittal that might be English, jaw clenched so tight he’s surprised his teeth don’t shatter. He tries to answer. Really, he does. But the words get bottlenecked behind the visual of you dragging your tongue slowly up the side of the melting treat.

You bite your lip, thoughtful, tapping the end of the popsicle stick against your mouth. “Maybe it’s something worse,” you continue. “Like a siren who doesn’t seduce you to death, just… I dunno. Sucks you off and leaves you floating.”

Dean’s soul physically leaves his body.

You tilt your head, grinning wickedly. “You want me to suck you off too, Dean?”

Time freezes. The ocean quiets. The gulls still midair. Dean’s pulse slams loud and dizzy in his ears. His world narrows to you, your suntanned legs, the glint of sea-salt crystals on your skin, your bright and glistening mango lips.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You just–

Did you–

He stares at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Huh? What?” he croaks, voice pitched embarrassingly high.

You blink at him, then repeat – slowly, sweetly, “I said: Should we check if it sucks the breath outta people like a leech?”

“Uh, yeah,” he croaks. “Suckin’. Life. Outta dudes. Totally.”

You stare at him a second longer, suspicious, before shrugging and going back to the file.

Dean exhales, trying to will his hard-on into submission through sheer force of shame. You’re systematically dismantling his ability to think in complete sentences. His entire brain is on fire.

His internal organs shut down one by one. He drops his head back against the lounge chair, squeezing his green eyes shut. He is too old, too tired, and too desperately in love with you for this shit.

The sun beats down, hot and merciless, painting everything in shades of clementine and burning copper. Apricot umbrellas dot the beach like slices of candy. The ocean blinks lazy and endless, a rolling quilt of bottle-green and blue-fire sapphire. Seagulls wheel overhead, shrieking insults.

Dean’s mind drifts again.

He imagines dragging you down into the frothy surf, your hands curling into his hair, your giggles swallowed by the sea.

He imagines you mouthing at his jeans, impatient and greedy, while the sun sets behind you in a tangle of electric clementine and bruised lapis skies.

He imagines you kneeling between his legs, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock like you’re taste-testing it, humming around him, sweet and filthy and happy about it.

He imagines you under the boardwalk, hips rocking against his like the waves, bikini strings snapping loose with frantic fingers.

He imagines you bent over the hood of the Impala, bikini tangled around your ankles, hands bracing against the hot metal while he rails you like a man possessed.

He imagines your thighs caging his head, that same lazy, teasing look on your face, and him savoring your taste of sugar and salt and heat, while the whole crazy, humid, goddamn state of Florida spins off its axis.

“You’re quiet,” you chirp, tossing a sideways glance at him. “Florida getting to you?”

Dean clears his throat, gruff. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that, sweetheart.”

You raise your sunglasses, peeking at him over the frames. “You know, Winchester, you’re the only guy on this beach dressed like he’s about to sell used beach towels out of the back of a van."

Dean frowns, looking down at himself: worn boots, jeans, his favorite faded black tee with a sun-bleached flannel thrown over it. Practical. Battle-tested. Entirely inappropriate for beachside Florida.

“First of all,” he says, lifting a finger, “this is classic Americana ruggedness. Chicks dig it.”

You lean your head back and laugh, all bright and cruel. “You’re sweating through your ‘Americana ruggedness.’”

Dean scowls, dripping like a busted fire hydrant. “I told you. I’m not gonna wear fucking board shorts like all the other frat boy idiots here.”

You laugh again, the sound bright as bells, and Dean’s heart trips hard enough to hurt.

“You’re gonna die of heatstroke,” you tease. “Right here. Buried in Florida sand. Some old lady’s gonna find your corpse and knit you a ‘Bless Your Heart’ sweater.”

He snorts a chuckle. “I’ll haunt this beach just to piss you off.”

“Promise?” you ask, giving him a cheeky wink.

Dean is about five minutes away from lighting himself on fire. And honestly? Florida would probably consider it normal Tuesday behavior.

Your gaze drifts out to the ocean beyond your feet and sandy calves with a blissful little sigh. “It’s kinda pretty, though, isn’t it?”

Dean looks at you – skin kissed by flame-petals and sunset sugar, hair blowing soft in the briny breeze, popsicle stick clutched between your fingers like a crime scene weapon.

Yeah. Pretty.

Pretty much the goddamn end of him.

“Victim said he saw orange,” you murmur thoughtfully. “Bright, like-… like a koi? A clownfish?”

Dean is about to make a dumb Finding Nemo joke when you lick a bead of melted popsicle off your wrist, slow and absentminded.

And all Dean wants is to dig a hole right here in the sugar-white sand and bury himself alive in this cursed, gator-infested sandpit.

“Dean?”

He snaps back to reality so hard he gets whiplash. “What?” he wheezes.

You arch an eyebrow. “I said, should we check the tide charts? Maybe the creature only comes out during low tide.”

Dean coughs into his fist, face hotter than the sun overhead. “Uh, sure. Tide charts. Definitely. Research.”

But all he can think about is those legs locked around his waist, sand clinging to your thighs as he fucks you into the waves. You moaning into his neck, salty and sweet, fingers yanking at his shirt like you can’t stand to have him dressed another second.

You nibble at the edge of the popsicle, teeth scraping the melting mango sheen, and Dean watches helplessly as a single sticky bead runs down your wrist.

He fantasizes about leaning over, licking it off your skin, trailing his mouth up your arm to your shoulder, your throat, your mouth. He imagines you gasping against him, laughing breathless.

He fantasizes about hauling you out of that chair and onto his lap, mouth on yours, sticky hands sliding under the knot of your bikini top, tugging until you’re bared for him and only him, sunshine turning your skin to gold, and–

Greatly frustrated, Dean runs a hand down his freckled face. Why the fuck can’t he bring himself to stop? You’re unraveling him atom by atom.

But then, the fucking frozen treat drips again, and you lean forward to catch it with your mouth, lips wrapping tight around the end. Dean watches you hollow your cheeks slightly when you suck, head tilted thoughtfully like you’re considering footnotes and not absolutely wrecking his entire being. You pull the melting syrup back again with a soft, wet pop.

At this point, he wants to fucking throw himself into the ocean and let the sharks tear him apart like Hellhounds. He’s pretty sure his soul leaves his body, too.

He grips the arms of his chair so hard they creak in protest, knuckles turning white as he’s trying to tether himself to reality and not his fantasies.

Florida is hell.

You are hell.

And he’s a good man being punished for crimes he hasn’t even committed yet.

Dean shifts in his chair, crossing one leg over the other like that’ll hide the state of emergency going on in his jeans. He’s surprised no one here has asked any questions yet or called fucking 911.

Meanwhile, the world keeps spinning. The ocean rolls in lazy, glassy sheets of turquoise and teal. The sun licks liquid gold down your shoulders. The salt air curls the loose strands of your hair into a halo. And Dean – miserable, desperate, wildly in love – watches you polish off the last inch of your popsicle, tongue flicking the stick clean.

“Earth to Dean,” you sing-song, waving a hand in front of his face and kicking sand lightly at his boots.

Dean jerks back into consciousness. “Yeah?”

“Should we check out the marina witnesses after this?” you ask, tossing your popsicle stick into the trash bucket next to your chair.

Before he can say something catastrophic (like “Marry me right now” or “Please put your mouth on me, I'm begging”), Sam comes jogging up the beach, waving his phone like a savior in flannel.

“Got a lead! Marina worker said he saw something with gills and claws dragging people under.”

Dean launches out of his chair like his ass is on fire. A man escaping execution.

“Awesome. Let’s roll!” he barks, voice too loud and way too eager.

You tuck your notes into your beach bag and sling it over your shoulder, grinning wide and bright as the sunset. The same grin that ruined him long before the bikini did.

You hop up beside him, laughing, brushing sand off your thighs with maddening slow sweeps, and Dean bites back a groan so hard it nearly gives him a hernia.

“You sure you’re okay, Winchester?” you ask, teasing. “You looked like you were about to pass out there for a second.”

“I’m great,” Dean lies, voice strangled, letting the sun melt him into roadkill. “Peachy.”

“You sure? Seriously, you’re a walking heatstroke PSA,” you quip, hip-bumping him lightly as you fall into step beside him.

Dean coughs. “'M fine, sweetheart. Just… dehydration. And Florida. And mermaid murder.”

As you brush past him, the smell of your sunscreen and coconut shampoo punch him square in the gut. Dean follows, trying very, very hard not to watch the way your hips sway like you own the whole damn coastline.

He thinks about how easy it would be to slip his arm around your waist, how natural it would feel to lean in, to kiss you like he’s wanted to for years. Instead, he shoves his hands deep into his jeans pockets and marches grimly through the sand, already planning a quick, ice-cold shower and about eight beers after this job’s done.

Yeah, Florida is one hell of a drug, but you’re the one that fucked him up.

Okay, I may have had way too much fun with torturing Dean here. Forgive me, guys 😂☀️🏝️

Hope you enjoyed this one! 🩵

Tag List Pt. 1:

@alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@lori19 @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @yoobusgoobus @jessjad @dayhsdreaming

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@impala67rollingthroughtown @star-yawnznn @spnaquakindgdom @thej2report @americanvenom13

@lamentationsofalonelypotato @supernotnatural2005 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @m0e0v0v

[revelboo]

I showed my lil madam cat the last time, but here is,

THE RAT!!!

Twilight also know as Bunnit. Raised him from three weeks old and he is a lil shit and I love him so. XD Wildcard, whatever Mech you want to write a drabble or continue a storyline. 👀

Cute! I know a few folks had asked about Merformers for May, so I cannibalized a fantasy shapeshifter story I’d started and never finished from my PC. This will probably end up a reverse harem with Star, Sounders, and Shocky to be honest

Seek and Destroy

Merformers Megatron x Reader

Monstrous form rolling lazily in the cold water, Megatron’s red eyes drift to the surface. To the sun shimmering and distorted high above. Painful to his eyes even with the barrier of the water. Tempting him. Because it would be so easy to break the surface. Let the sun end it. Shear the flesh from bone and burn him to ash. Quick and, just maybe, painless. Deserves it for failing them, but he can’t abandon his duty. Can’t stop.

So he dives instead, cutting down into the familiar embrace of the ocean. Small, silvery fish dart out of his wake, fleeing the predator in their midst. And he ignores them despite the hunger gnawing at him. Seeing how long he can deny it’s become habit. A game to break up the monotony of eternity of his self imposed isolation. Can sense others in the distance, their songs and fields so close it hurts and he ignores that, too. Can’t give in to that sweet coaxing, the urge to start over. Join a pod, raise young. Can’t lose a family all over again and he wonders what happened to the remnants of his pod. The other hunters who’d been away. Who’d failed to protect the weak and young left behind. Wonders how many of his brothers gave in to despair and beached themselves. Chose the sun over the grief.

Skimming the bottom, his clawed hands dig into the sand to make it cloud the water and send small crustaceans fleeing. Tail lazily cutting through the water, he turns deeper, eyes adjusting easily to the familiar darkness. Following the bottom until the water grows warmer. Keeping low, because his massive silvery shape catches the light too well. Gives himself away.

Heat sears him as he glides over the gaping mouth of an open vent, the ocean tinged with sulfur until it nearly drowns out the scent of everything else.

Almost.

Can taste the distortion and wrongness. It’s electric on his tongue, like reality just stumbled. Feels it humming through his bones. A door to somewhere terrible open somewhere. A breach in reality. Claws scraping against stone, he anchors himself. He’s had a long time to learn patience.

And after what feels like forever, movement draws his eye. A spindly, black hand tipped with impossibly long claws reaching out of the vent, grasping at the rock. Whole body rigid with anticipation and purpose, he swallows a snarl. Killing the abominations Unicron keeps birthing into this place is his one and only reason for existing. Revenge to try and amend for his failures.

Bullet shaped and eyeless, its head clears the vent. The only feature the head does have is a tooth filled mouth that gapes open. A second set of spindly arms claw free, pulling the thickly muscled torso up. A long, heavy tail is the last to clear the gap. Watching it pull its legs up under its body, head swinging from side to side, hatred spins him tight. Even without eyes, a nose, or ears, the horror’s aware of its surroundings. And hungry. They’re always hungry.

Hesitant, it kicks off the bottom, drifting upward. The thing ill-suited for the depths and he knows it’ll make a beeline for the surface without fail. Go straight for easier prey, like those soft two legged monsters above. It isn’t that he cares what happens to them. Only that he despises these things far more than he does them. Because his kind, especially the young, are a favorite prey of these abominations. And he can’t suffer a single one to live. Can’t live through that nightmare ever again. Snarling, he lunges after his prey, claws extended.

And it twists in the water, kicking out with its clawed back legs to force him to change direction, circling. Sharp teeth bared, he’s definitely got the advantage as long as can keep it in the water, his sinuous form much faster. This is his world. Lashing out with his tail, he clips it and sends it spinning downward. Diving after it, claws extended as the webbing between his fingers spreads. The hard, overlapping, armored plating along most of his hide can take a lot, but those needle-like teeth can pierce it. Has the scars to remind him of that lesson. And his fins are delicate, easily torn.

Bubbles streaming from the things gaping jaws, it charges at him. And teeth sink into his tail from below. Roaring, he whips his body to get free, luminescent blood clouding the water. Two of them? No. Freezing as he sees more clawing free, horror has him by the throat. Can’t win against this many, but he can take as many down with him as he can.

[seriouslycalamitous]

BLOG INTRO + FAQ

Hello! It's been a while, but I've finally decided to make a pinned post, hopefully to help people find answers to frequently-asked questions, and to navigate my blog more easily!

Below, you will find my Meet the Author section, a guide to my blog's tags, links to my fics+discord server, and whatever frequently-asked questions I could think to answer!

MEET THE AUTHOR:

My name is Calam (she/her), but I also respond to Mitos. I am 21 years old, and a fanfiction writer of over 10+ years. I am still a student, but I am a published author of a handful of short stories. The fandoms I'm associated with are the Life Series/Hermitcraft, QSMP, Parkour Civilization, and unfortunately, as I despise it now several years later, DSMP.

My favorite ships, and the ones I've written for the most, include Scarian and Hideduo, though I have several other smaller ones I enjoy as well. When I write, I specialize in happy endings, first kisses, mutual pining, and getting together stories. I will occasionally deviate, but those bits of romance are my passion.

If you ever want to support me and help me keep doing what I love, I am open for tips on Ko-Fi!

GENERAL TAGS:

#mitos asks - this will be the tag used for every time an ask is answered!

#mitos oneshots - any oneshots or discussion of oneshots (that I remember to tag properly) that I've written

#writing advice with cal - anytime I talk about improving writing or the process itself

#upcoming mitos fics - talking about fics that are, at the time of the post being made, upcoming

#fic recs - general fic recs, usually either ones I've made myself or times that I have been mentioned in a list of recs.

General ship-related posts can be found tagged under their appropriate name such as #scarian and #hideduo.

CURRENTLY-RELEVANT TAGS:

Midnight Strangers:

#supervillain/civilian au - this will be used anytime I talk about Midnight Strangers

#midnight strangers fanart - fanart for midnight strangers

Each character has their own tag, denoted by #[job] [name], for example, #villain scar and #civilian grian. There are other, smaller MS related tags that are not included in this list.

Change with the Tides and Be the Death of Me:

#pirate x shapeshifter au - general CWTT tag

#cwtt fanart - fanart of CWTT

#deity au - Be the Death of Me general tag

#until the end series - Be the Death of Me extended universe tag

#btdom fanart - Be the Death of Me fanart, except I'm horrible at remembering to use this tag so #btdom also works

Oneshots can usually be found tagged under #mitos oneshots

LINKS TO RECENT FICS AND MY DISCORD SERVER:

MY AO3 ACCOUNT or SPECIFICALLY MY SCARIAN FICS

MY DISCORD SERVER

YOU CAN ALSO SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI <3

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:

General Mitos-Related Questions:

QUESTION: How often do you post? Is there a set time that you post? On what days do you post? How soon after ending a fic do you post a new one?

ANSWER: If I have an ongoing fic, I usually like to pre-write everything and then post once a week on Tuesdays according to American Eastern Standard Time, though I do not have a set hour for posting chapters. It varies how long it takes between ending a fic and posting a new one, as it relies on my motivation/irl schedule. All of this is subject to change should my irl circumstances require it.

QUESTION: Will you ever write NSFW?

ANSWER: I have thought about it, as it's a generally good writing exercise and a skill that's respectable for a writer to have, but I usually keep my stories PG-13. I'm a little too scared of backlash at this exact moment in time. This is subject to change.

QUESTION: Do you ship RPF?

ANSWER: No, I think it's boring

QUESTION: Why don't you often reblog art?

ANSWER: I try to reblog art all at once whenever I have the time. Sometimes, this means I can go weeks without reblogging any, and then I'll reblog everything that I can find in the span of two hours. I get tagged in a lot, and I see it pretty immediately, but I want to make sure I have time to leave a heartfelt comment.

QUESTION: Why don't you answer all the asks in your inbox? ANSWER: I get close to 5 to 10 asks every day, varying depending on the day, and a lot of them are repeat questions or just general nice comments! I read and love to see everything, but I only respond if it's a new question, one that hasn't been asked in a while, fanart, or I feel up to it. I apologize if your question doesn't get answered.

QUESTION: Are you okay with fics of your fics/podfics/fanart/inspired by fics/etc? Are you okay with being tagged in posts?

ANSWER: Usually, yes! My fics are always free to encourage you to write, or for making podfics so long as proper credit is given. I DO NOT LIKE fics that take already-existing scenes that I've written and switch the perspective or re-write them, as that feels like an insult to the way I've chosen to write it. I love being tagged in stuff related to me, but I don't ever want to be tagged in unrelated or chain-like things.

QUESTION: What's your persona? Are you okay with your likeness being used in fanmade things?

ANSWER: My persona is usually the person in my pfp or banner, but since I cannot draw myself, the style varies with the artists' choices. I'm totally okay with being in silly fanmade things/being drawn or written about, so long as I'm not depicted in a negative light or in demeaning situations.

Midnight Strangers Related Questions:

QUESTION: Will Grian get powers?

ANSWER: No. While my fic is related to Wild Life, it isn't an exact copy, and this is the direction I want to take with his character.

QUESTION: Will you write more to this universe/alternate POVs when this fic is done?

ANSWER: I've seriously considered it, but it'll come down to motivation/schedule management when this fic ends. I love this world, but I have a lot of ideas for what to write in the future.

QUESTION: How do you tell the superpowered characters apart when they're not mentioned explicitly by name?

ANSWER: Most characters will be explicitly obvious by their power (based on Episode 7 of Wild Life), by their teammates (Wild Life), by their outfits (usually just generally related to the character), or by their name (also generally related to the character/power), etc. Some are left purposely more vague for the purpose of the plot, others are pretty clear. Every character from the Life Series is mentioned at least once in the plot as of Chapter 10.

For example, Joel is Furioso. His power is double-jump, like in Wild Life, and he's named after his Fast and the Furious bit that he did that season. His armor and weapons are samurai-related due to his Hermitcraft base. As a less obvious example, Slayer is Gem. Her power is named Radar, and she can sense enemies around her. This is adapted from her Wild Life powers since Spectator Mode was too OP for my plot. Her name is based on the joke GeminiSlay, and her teammate is Joel, like their Family Duo in Wild Life.

QUESTION: Does Grian have siblings? Are any characters in this fic related?

ANSWER: No, I have chosen to do no sibling/cousin/familial relations in this fic.

QUESTION: Are more ships going to be introduced?

ANSWER: Beyond Scarian, Ranchers, and Jizzie, there are not plans to give many other ships screentime. If they exist, it'll be as subtext or very very background, even if they are ships that I enjoy.

QUESTION: Will ___ happen?

ANSWER: If you have to ask for something in the future tense, oftentimes involving potential future scenes, I usually cannot answer it as it is spoilers. I'm sorry, but I'll be happy to answer hypotheticals or 'what-ifs' after all chapters have been posted!

MORE COULD BE ADDED IN THE FUTURE, BUT FOR NOW THIS IS IT FOR MY PINNED POST! PLEASE ENJOY MY BLOG AND HAVE A LOVELY DAY!

[interact-if]

Pride Month Feature #3: Under Our Skins

Game: Under Our Skins

Author: Rowan (@if-underourskins)

Tags: Urban fantasy, romance, action (kinda)

Being hunted isn't for the weak. You've been on the run for the majority of your life, though it seems to only get more and more frequent as you age. You're a shapeshifter, whose bones, muscles and skin twist and stretch to transform, and it's why you've been looking over your shoulder all this time. 

You’re forced to flee when Officers from the Agency of Public Safety and Threat Containment (PSTC) came knocking on your door. They're who you've been running from all this time, the reason why you're alone...That is, till you end up in the town of Arden Grove and meet other shapeshifters like yourself. Do you trust them? Will they stay? Or will you end up alone once again?

Tell me more about yourself!

I’ve mentioned this a couple of times, but I’m a huge fan of the Spiderverse franchise, and I am in a lot of different fandoms. My favourite colour is red, which is really funny because the colour scheme of Under Our Skins is blue and grey, and I’m ethnically Chinese, which is actually why Elexis (one of the ROs) is Chinese. 

I am also pansexual and genderqueer, and there are elements of that that can be seen in my characters, especially Elexis and Seraph.

2. Can you tell me a bit about what you’re working on right now and your journey into interactive fiction? What inspired the game/story you’re currently writing?

I am currently working on a shapeshifter IF, aka Under Our Skins! I started with visual novels first, back in my 2024 exam season, and quickly got hooked. The first IF I ever played was Wayfarer and that led to many ranting sessions about it (my poor friends were stuck with me raving about how much I loved the game for days) and from there, I scoured itch.io for more games like that, which is how I stumbled across interactive fiction! For the next few months, it was just me falling in love with multiple interactive fictions before deciding I wanted to try my hand at writing one. 

What inspired Under Our Skins was just a car on Pinterest, and with a lot of time on my hands and a writer’s brain, I daydreamed a scene with my first character (and said car). I liked the scene so much that I then proceeded to think about how it’d make sense and what sort of a world it’d be set in and boom, I had the (rough) settings and systems of Under Our Skins. 

Read on for the full interview!

3. How does your work feature aspects of your queer identity / experience? 

I think that my writing will be influenced by the things I experience and observe in real life no matter what, and though there aren’t direct correlations, there are parallels in the way shapeshifters are treated and the way they adapt to society with the way queer people adapt to “pass” and more. 

Not all of them are purposeful, but when writing about the oppression of shapeshifters, I do take “inspiration” from the oppression that queer people face. There’s also the fact that the way shapeshifters cope with it, whether hiding or just dampening it to be more “normal” (and the fact that there’s a “normal” at all, when so many of them are born shapeshifters) just reminds me of what queer people have to do irl. 

The whole IF is not meant to be a commentary on queer people but I’ve definitely taken inspiration or been influenced by queer experiences.

4. What does your writing process look like? Any rituals or habits? Any tips, tricks, philosophies or approaches that have worked very well for you? 

My writing process is a mess. Right now, I have a planning doc, a writing doc and a google sheet with many different sections split to help me juggle the work of writing everything while stimulating my brain enough to get to work on the IF. It’s honestly pretty scattered, but hey, if it ain’t broke, why fix it?

For the specifics however, it’s mostly just three phases that I constantly go back to. I use an outline to roughly plot out the chapter, which I then refer to when writing. Sometimes my writing veers off the path of my outline, sometimes parts of my outline doesn’t work with what I had written before, and I leave that to the editing part to polish everything up and just hope that it turns out alright. 

As for tips and tricks, there are two very important things that I try to keep in mind when writing: a. Your first draft is going to suck and b. Know what your other characters are doing and their motivations.

For the first, when writing, I often find myself hating whatever words I was typing – to me they all fall flat and miss their mark. This ends up with me hating writing and procrastinating continuing because if it sucks, why should I continue? But here’s the thing: it’s better that it exists and sucks, then to not exist at all. Your first draft is not supposed to be perfect, it’s job is to just exist, to pave a way for your next few drafts to improve on. If it doesn’t exist, there’s nothing to refine. So yeah, my first draft is going to suck, and I need to let it suck as long as I write it.

For the second, this just helps me more in the planning aspect. Knowing what the characters are doing helps me make sure that the timelines all line up, and to help me establish certain things even though the plot doesn’t require it just yet. It makes things feel real and more logical, and it can definitely come in handy when you cross-refer back to it.

5. How do you go about portraying queer characters, queer experiences, or queer storylines in your IF? 

I think the most important part for me is that the character’s queerness is a part of their identity, and is not their only, or most notable trait, while also acknowledging it and the way it has shaped their life.

With Under Our Skins, everyone is queer – 4 out of the 5 ROs are pansexual, one RO is trans and another is a lesbian. These are a part of their identity, and while sometimes it is just what it is, it has also impacted the way others treated them throughout their lives, and in the IF. 

I think the way I write – or will be writing, since the IF is still relatively new – is entirely linked to my queer experiences and the experiences I’ve observed. Parts of my characters I take from my own experience, others from my friends and people online, and there are also parts where I have to take creative liberties almost, like writing accepting parents and homo/transphobia.

6. Do you have favourite interactive fiction games, characters, scenes or authors that you’d like to recommend?

Here’s a list of IFs I love and adore (in no particular order):

(the famous) Infamous

Press Play

Children of Cain

Wayfarer

When Twilight Strikes

Apt 502

The six that thrive

Stygian Sun: Total Eclipse

Drink Your Villain Juice

Love After Death

The Advisor's Game

Disenchanted

and a lot more I can’t remember off the top of my head!!

7. If you were to say one thing to your readers, other authors, and/or the interactive fiction community: what would it be? 

To my readers, I’d say thank you <33 They’ve been so kind to me and the love that they’ve shown for the IF and characters is honestly so heartwarming and motivating!!

To other authors, y’all are honestly amazing and I hope that your projects work out and that you have nice lives (that sounds like a threat, help). I love so many of your works and it’s honestly an honor (?) to be an interactive fiction author when these are the people I’m standing with.

To the community, please, please be kind. Your comments, whether anonymous or not, are all directed to a person behind the screen – a person who is usually juggling their writing project alongside many, many irl responsibilities. There was a weird influx of hate recently and now that it’s mostly died down (that I’m aware of, anyway), let’s try to make it stay that way. Constructive criticism can be helpful but sending straight up hate is not and can oftentimes undermine an author’s motivation so, yeah, be kind.

[milfsloverblog]

Chlorine Water (nsfw)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: It’s 6.24am, I haven’t slept because I needed to get this out of my system. This is pure porn without plot. Something that popped into my head when I should have been writing something far more important (thesis can wait). First time writing shapeshifted cock, think I did not too bad. Enjoy lovelies!!

CW: SHAPESHIFTED COCK!!

“Will you join me?” You called from the pool float where you’d been sitting for the past half hour.

Larissa stayed quiet for a second, reading the last few words on the page of the book she was holding before placing it down next to her on the sun lounger.

“I might,” she answered, picking up her glass of rosé from the floor and taking a few sips of it. “How’s the water?”

You dipped your fingertips in the pool before wiping them on one of your naked thighs.

“Warm. Not as hot as you, though!”

Larissa chuckled and placed her now empty glass back on the ground before getting up from the lounger. She stretched her arms above her head, making you bite your lip at the sight of her pale breasts nearly popping out of her green bikini top. Nearly.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” You asked as Larissa walked closer to the edge of the pool. She truly was a vision. Legs that seemed never-ending, inviting hips which dipped into an even more inviting waist and slightly uneven breasts that you loved to tease her about. When she got close enough, you noticed the bite mark that you’d left on her thigh a few days before.

“Mhm, only a few thousand times.” She smiled softly and sat down on the tiled floor, her legs dangling in the water as she leaned back on her hands and waited - visibly impatiently - for you to come closer.

You didn’t make her wait long, almost immediately dropping from the pool float into the water and swimming towards your lover.

Playfully, you held one of Larissa’s legs and kissed the side of her knee, lifting yourself on your tiptoes to be able to lick chlorine water from her thigh. It tasted terrible, really, but Larissa’s breathless sigh made up for it.

Much as you wanted to, you didn’t put your mouth anywhere near Larissa’s crotch and only kissed her thighs and knees, even trying to pull her further over the edge so you could get to her hips too.

“Darling,” The word fell from Larissa’s mouth as her fingers weaved themselves through your hair, giving a gentle tug so you’d look up at her face. “Do you mind if…” Larissa’s gaze fell between her legs and yours was quick to follow, your eyes widening at the sight of the bulge in her bikini that wasn’t there a few seconds ago.

“Of course not.” You breathed out, your fingertips digging into the flesh of your lover’s thighs.

Sex with Larissa was always an experience. You never really knew what to expect from your shapeshifting partner, and you loved that.

Slowly, you pushed Larissa’s bottom to the side to free her semi-hard cock, your mouth instantly salivating at the sight of it.

Larissa gave your hair another gentle tug, pulling you out of your trance.

“Open up.” Her voice was soft but you knew it was a demand, to which you quickly obeyed by opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Larissa cooed as she took hold of her cock and thrust her hips closer to your face.

You closed your eyes as the weight of Larissa’s tip pressed down on your tongue. She stayed still for a moment, her eyes raking down your face as she took in how eager you were to please her.

“Good girl.” She repeated, slowly moving her tip up and down your tongue until her cock had fully hardened. “Will you take care of me, darling?”

You gave a slight nod and Larissa let go of your hair, your cue to take control of the situation. You wrapped your hand around the base of her cock and your lips around the tip, slowly moving your head down until Larissa’s blonde pubic hair tickled your nose. She had thankfully settled for a medium-sized cock that day, although the girth was larger than usual and you knew your jaws would start aching in a few minutes. Still, that allowed you a few minutes to pleasure her.

Larissa groaned loudly as you moved your head back up and down again, slowly increasing the rhythm of your sucking.

“Oh god, yes-“ She threw her head back when your tongue teased the spot that you knew would drive her crazy. “I need you-“ She breathed out, her hips carefully thrusting her cock deeper into your mouth. “I need to be inside you-“

That was another one of your cues. You kept sucking for a few more seconds before letting go of Larissa’s cock with a loud pop.

“Come here,” You groaned, grabbing Larissa’s waist and pulling her into the water with you.

You barely had time to react before she spun you around, trapping you between the cold pool tiles and her body.

“You’re divine,” She whispered, her length rubbing up and down your thigh.

Larissa’s hand snaked down between your bodies and she bit her lip when she found you dripping wet after pushing her fingers inside your bikini.

“All of this for me?” She smirked before pressing her lips on the pulse point of your neck, suckling at the skin and leaving a perfect imprint of her mouth in crimson lipstick.

“Why would you wear makeup to go swimming?” You asked with an expression as incredulous as possible. Without waiting for an answer, you grabbed onto Larissa’s hip and pulled her into a kiss.

You didn’t really want to hear Larissa’s explanation. You only wanted to hear her moan.

Larissa kissed you back with practised ease, her fingers skillfully moving between your lips and pressing on your clit. Her lipstick smudged against your skin as she parted her lips to kiss you always deeper.

“God-“ Your lover grunted, the rubbing of her cock against your leg becoming more insistent until you gently wrapped your hand around its length and guided it between your legs.

The warmth of your flesh against Larissa’s shaft made it throb violently and she grunted again, louder this time, as she began rubbing her member against your clit.

“Larissa!” You whined, spreading your legs to allow your lover more space. “Please, I want- I need to feel you inside of me.”

Larissa happily obliged, immediately pressing the tip of her cock against your entrance and slowly pushing herself inside of you. It felt like heaven, her girth stretching you just the right amount as you wrapped your legs around her waist and pulled her impossibly closer, letting out a moan when her tip pressed against your cervix.

“What do you think?” Larissa asked, voice dripping with lust.

“Perfect-“ You whined. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“And I’ll perfectly fuck you,” Larissa whispered into your ear before her hips started thrusting against yours.

Larissa tried her best to be soft, she really did. But after a couple of minutes of gentle thrusts, your sweet moans and your cunt squeezing around her length became almost unbearable. She firmly grabbed onto your waist and pulled out of you, spinning you around so you’d face the edge of the pool.

“Fuck!” You cried out when your lover slammed back inside you, your legs quivering when she started thrusting frantically.

“You’re so good,” She groaned. “So tight and so warm.”

Larissa held onto your waist with one of her hands, so tightly that you knew you’d be left with marks that’d last for days, while the other one moved to your front to find your buzzing clit again.

You nearly melted against her, veins filling with nothing short but a white-hot pleasure while she quickened her pace, driving herself so deep until the tip of her cock kissed your cervix, drawing not only a moan but a yelp from you as well and you couldn’t help but move your hips back to meet her thrusts.

“I-I’m close-“ You stuttered, making Larissa fuck you with an urgency that you had rarely felt before. Her fingers moved faster against your clit and it only took a few more thrusts for you to be sent over the edge, your body tensing from head to toe.

Everything turned white for a second, your thighs started shaking, and you swore you heard Larissa gasping as your cunt tightened around her, pulsed, and gushed around her girth.

“Rissa, please…” You whined and suddenly her blood rushed down to her cock, leaving her breathless as she came hard, pushing herself unbelievably deep until she made sure she had filled you to the brim with her cum, and you almost laughed in delight about how full she made you feel.

“God, darling-“ she sighed, resting her sweaty forehead on your shoulder as her senses came back when the rush of adrenaline slowly wore off, the pain in her thighs getting stronger by the second.

Larissa carefully pulled out of you and wrapped her arms around your waist to hug you from behind.

“You’re perfect.” She whispered before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Perfectly fucked, as promised.”

————————————————————————

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[moronkombat]

Can you pls write Syzoth going down on reader with his long ass tongue

You loved your boyfriend. He a sweet and tender lover to you and knew how you make you the happiest person in all the realms. So grateful you were to have met him when you did and he grateful too. The two of you made quite the adorable couple, didn't you? Even now as you lay with your back arched and raised, your eyes rolling into your skull...yes Syzoth found you particular cute like this.

If only he could tell you just how sweet you looked writhing under him but his mouth already so busy tasting you. Lips move against you, mimicking a kiss to a...different type of lips. Hot breath pants against you, your taste leading him further into intoxication. It won't be long now until this shapeshifter completely drowns himself into a drunken stupor.

Teeth snag onto your thigh and you lurch and gasp for breath. Soft lips drag over where teeth have left their mark, an apology? Perhaps. You don't have the moment to think on it as his mouth is upon you again, taking so much of your mind away from you. What will sanity will he leave behind for you to grasp at?

Not much as it turns out. His lips are not alone in their pursuit for your undoing. Something has joined them, something wet, something long. What is this? A forked tip flickers over where you see stars and you cry out his name.

Syzoth merely groans and digs his nails into your fleshy thighs deeper and deeper. Your plea for him goes unanswered, it is his tongue that will command you now. Longer and longer it gets, wrapping around your thigh and squeezing the plush of your skin. Fingers spread you apart, breaking apart the last defense you had left.

There will be no mercy now. Not when his tongue begins its descent into your begging and wanting core. The bend of your back...how beautiful it is...Your hips lifting off from the bed but he will not let you escape. Rough hands force them back into place and a curled tongue twirls in tantalizing circles. He feels all of you, each and every bit of your quivering insides are his to feast upon.

Your words have transformed into mewling and pathetic sounds of desperation and release. You feel his face to pressed up against you there, his nose poking and prodding as he turns his head from side to side. His tongue mimics this, exploring inside you from left to right, up and down. Cheeks are stained now, damp and red from the overwhelming sense of destruction.

Colors begin to flash before your eyes, colors you have never seen before dance and spin. They surround you just as his tongue consumes you. There it moves again and again around where you cannot possibly resist. Stars burst, colors shine and your orgasm travels through every single little bit of you.

Both of you are panting now, both of you are shaking. He stares at you but your eyes are too lost in the rapture he created. Syzoth tilts his head oh so curiously.

"If you think I'm finished with you, think again"

You have no sense to think anymore. It would appear he taken that from you. Though, you didn't mind. Not when his tongue delves into you once more

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Bnha mixed with Supernatural? The Winchester ls are Izuku's uncles? And maybe he has a quirk where he sees dead people and other stuff

@dark-elf-writes has a similar AU.

-

Izuku did not look at Aizawa-sensei. He refused to do so. Izuku wasn’t a fan of his Quirk for many reasons. He thought he was crazy for years until a doctor finally figured out his Quirk was ‘seeing people be surrounded by lost love ones’. No one really thought Izuku saw the dead.

Or other Monsters.

The first time Izuku spotted a shapeshifter and told his mom about the strange eyes, she’d gona eerily quiet before calling up her brothers. Uncle Dean and Uncle Sam were her adoptive brothers from when she’d gone to live with her cousin Bobby. Izuku loved talking on the phone with them all the time.

This was how they discovered what Izuku’s Quirk was. The things he recognized they knew what it meant. They appeared in Japan a day later to take out the monster posing as a teacher before sitting Izuku down to carefully explain things.

Monsters were real. Ghosts were real.

Cas, their angel friend, had placed some sort of Magic on Izuku after he nearly went blind glancing at the being. If he would be harmed by what he saw his eyes shut without his prompting.

Dean and Sam got in touch with some Japanese hunters who happily took the tips from Izuku. Things settled down, more or less.

Except Izuku didn’t want to look at his teacher. Every time he did his gaze was drawn to the blue haired teen hovering by the adult’s elbow. He was half there, half not. Wispy but solid in a very unsettling way. Izuku’s head hurt just looking at him.

He wasn’t a normal departed spirit. Something about him was disturbing and wrong. It wasn’t normal.

A week later, standing in the USJ, Izuku’s eyes were locked onto a man made of Mist. He couldn’t look away. A rush of energy burned in his stomach and he couldn’t stop staring.

“Shirakumo Oboro,” Izuku said, his mouth forming the words oddly. The Mist Man froze. Like a marionette he turned to Izuku. “Stop this. Send the villains away.” Izuku said.

The man obeyed as the blue haired young adult began yelling. As Aizawa choked, staring at the Mist Man while the mist fell from him leaving behind a body that looked like the Spirits Izuku had seen.

Izuku stared in shock.

(A few weeks later, Cas offers himself as an experiment. Izuku could control him. He could control any supernatural being.

They swore to take it to their graves.)

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

Some Sentences... Tuesday

thanks to @emryses for the tag, sorry for the very late answer lmaoo

this is from a catland fic i'm in the midst of writing in which ck has some interesting ideas on self-love (the idea mentioned in @idliketobeatree's amazing post, blessed be her editing skills <3)

Charles’ words dried up in his mouth. Thomas was standing up, still so very close, and – It wasn’t like he was normally short, no matter what jokes Charles made, but he was closer in height to a sitting Charles than not. But now… now he loomed. Charles had to tip his head all the way back just to catch the glint of his gold eyes, throat bared and vulnerable. It wasn’t like with Edwin, not how Edwin'd told it: Thomas shapeshifting into Charles’ face and outfit, only his eyes and actions betraying him. No, this time Thomas had kept his own kit on. It was like staring into some bizarre alternate reality, one where Charles had somehow become Cat King. Where he wore more jewellery than clothes, and had no problem flaunting his lanky body in a see-through shirt and short skirt that – admittedly – did something brills for his legs. Where he had glowing golden eyes and dilated cat pupils and a faint scar at his lips that followed him across bodies, never-changing.

no pressure tagging @laiqualaurelote @e-payne @artemisadore for more "some sentences [random day of the week]"! <3

[im-not-looking-for-forgiveness]

The Lethal Protector

Warning! Spoilers for Venom: the Last Dance (2024)

Eddie.

Eddie Brock sat upright, dripping with sweat, and grabbing his chest. His eyes flicked first to his hand and then his chest. Following that, he checked the room for threats. There were no aliens, humans, or otherwise that appeared from the shadows to kill him.

“I miss you, buddy,” he murmured aloud for the thousandth time. His best friend in the whole world, perhaps the whole universe, was dead and gone. The thought left a gaping wound in his heart. How could an invincible alien that could shapeshift be truly gone?

Eddie staggered from bed and grabbed the bottle off the nightstand as he trudged to the kitchen. He only stubbed his toe once as he made his way in the dark. He tried not to think about how fast his pain would disappear when Venom had been with him.

Flopping onto the couch, Eddie tipped the bottle to his lips. Stale, warm, beer met his tastebuds and he groaned. He set the bottle on the table and placed his head into his hands. He had his life back after being on the run. He should be investigating again on the streets, but Eddie was afraid. He was afraid of how soft and vulnerable he felt without Venom. He had crept into the Life Foundation research lab with nothing but his outrage, and now he got drunk on weekdays and mourned his best friend. He was pathetic.

Turning on the television, Eddie tried to watch the news and get inspired. He wanted to write again. He needed something to get his mind off Venom. He spent the early morning hours hoping to find something else to get his hands dirty with.

Suddenly, something pounded against his door. Eddie flinched and got to his feet. He called out tentatively, “Who is it?” 

Eddie approached the door slowly and peered through the peephole. An unfamiliar man stood there. The man answered, “Delivery for Eddie Brock.”

“Delivery?” Eddie repeated. He opened the door after a few moments of deliberation.

“You Eddie Brock?”

“Y-yes?” he replied, noticing the man was covered in dirt and didn��t have shoes on. His clothes were torn and he seemed to have nothing with him.

“Here,” he grabbed Eddie’s hand.

Suddenly, a familiar black substance rose to the surface of the man’s dusty skin and rushed onto Eddie’s. Venom melted into his system faster than he could blink. He felt a brief chill as his friend spread.

“Venom?” Eddie gasped.

Hello, Eddie. I missed you.

“I missed you, too, man. Are you alright?”

I am still recovering. I have not eaten enough to heal completely. I didn’t find any bad men to eat on the way here.

Eddie chuckled, “That’s okay, buddy, we’ll get you something soon,”

The stranger looked close to tears, “He threatened to kill me,”

“Oh! Uh, thank you and… I’m sorry. He isn’t very considerate sometimes. He did just get doused with acid and then blown up with a grenade, though. Here, take this,” Eddie got out his wallet and handed the man the change he had, “Keep this between us, okay?”

In a daze, he took the cash and left. Eddie slammed the door shut and strode to his bedroom to get dressed. Venom was going to be hungry and there was no way he was leaving his apartment in his underwear. The Hawaiian shirt and crocs had been a new low and he vowed to never let that happen again.

“How? How did you survive?”

I can regenerate from a fraction of myself. Strickland found part of me in that bar in Mexico. During the fight with the xenophages, that part of me was safe in some sort of glass vial. I escaped and found a bug to bond to. Then I came to find you, Eddie.

“That’s great. I can’t believe you’re here,”

I’m hungry, Eddie. His organs looked very tasty but I didn’t eat them.

“I’m proud of you, bud. C’mon, let’s go get you something to eat,” Eddie snorted, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on.

Are we the Lethal Protector again, Eddie?

“Yeah, sure. We’re the Lethal Protector,”

[jojo-schmo]

I’m looking into making my own Kirbysona. I was wondering if you have any tips??

you don’t have to answer! Also I love your art and your AU is awesome :)

Hello! Thank you so much for the kind words! <3 I'd be happy to share some of my thought process behind creating my bubble-blowing baby, Ripple Fairy Kirbysona! I will always cheer on the existence of more Kirbysonas! :D

I had a Kirbysona in childhood that was just a little puffball, like Kirby- and she looked like this :D I loved the Star Rod, the Beam Kirby hat was my favorite, I just finished playing Kirby 64 so I added some Crystal Shards to the hat, and I slapped on my favorite colors. Bam! I'd draw her in the margins of my notebooks, interacting with other Kirby characters in little stories I'd write... Great fun!

But now as an adult posting my work online, I wanted something that felt more like "me," as opposed to an OC that felt like someone else. A direct extension of myself to interact with the characters I love, as well as characters and sonas of other creators in our Kirby corner over here! Like a gaming avatar! But in a series with so many different species and characters, where to start?!

Step 1: THERE ARE NO RULES. BE CRINGE AND BE FREE!!

The important thing is to have fun! You can choose to confine yourself to the rules of the Kirby universe, or just make something up! The important part is that a sona represents you!

These are the thoughts that went through my head, but it's not the only way to make a sona! If you follow what your heart is saying and not what you think others want to see, you'll find a design that feels like you!

Step 2: Ask some basic questions to establish a design direction.

These are the questions I asked myself during the creation process, but your questions can be different! This is just how I set up my rough plan of creation.

Sonas don't need to look like you or be named after you irl if you don't want! But in order to feel like "me," I decided on something that shared a lot of my actual physical traits. For me personally, if the sona didn't look a lot like me, I would always have a disconnect with it. I also settled on the name "Jojo" quickly because that's my actual nickname, part of my username, and I respond quickly to it.

From there, answering the other design questions I had came quickly after that!

Step 3: Settle on a species.

I went with a Ripple Star Fairy in the end because 1) They're adorable and I love their cute wings, hair ribbons/accessories, 2) They're shown as adults, which is perfect because I am one lol, 3) Look human enough for me to relate to while still having a lot of freedom to make up powers, lore, and design traits, and 4) Ripple Fairies deserve some love hahaha

Side note: if you can't decide on a species, throw the rules out the window! Be a shapeshifter. Or have multiple forms for no reason. Be a combination penguin/puffball knight/human/waddle dee born from the cosmos!! Refer to step 1, there are no rules! Hit your sona with a Waddle Dee beam whenever you want!!

Step 4: Design yourself, superstar!!

I brainstormed with a page of sketches and tried a bunch of different variations of a Ripple Fairy with different hairstyles and outfits, (I need to find that sketch page) but I eventually settled on these concepts!

I wear braids almost every day, so I added that. Ripple Fairies in canon all have cute hair accessories, so I made sure to tie off the braid with a little ribbon!

Also my hair in real life does this "devil horn thing" that is one of my favorite things about myself. Like I have these baby hairs on the sides of my head that love to curl upwards on their own, so I kept the "devil horn" silhouette with the braid's bangs :D

ALSO, I LOVE BOW TIES. SO MUCH. I love shirts, dresses, anything with a bow on the collar. So I added that.

I have this black coat with a sailor-like collar IRL that I love. I feel SUPER DUPER AWESOME when I wear it, so I added the collar with the bow tie.

I added buttons, a stripe along the bottom of the dress and sleeves, and gauntlets because a lot of canon Ripple Fairies have them. My college marching band uniform also had big gauntlets that I felt really cool wearing, so I shaped mine like that! And clothes with scalloped hems are my favorites, so I added one as a unique twist to my dress!

Now for the fun magic stuff. I wanted my powers to be connected to bubbles because I just think bubbles are neat!!! Simple as that haha.

So how am I going to blow bubbles, then? I'll need a bubble wand! How about a weapon that can change forms to be pocket-sized and functional, AND a super cool staff? Because I think staffs are SICK. I'd carry one around all the time if I could.

I got a little sentimental with my design too, borrowing some elements from my childhood Kirbysona like the Star Rod, stripes, ribbons, and diamond shapes. It's one of my favorite details because I like paying homage to the baby Jojo I once was as often as I can.

I added a little bit of red to the IRL brown color that my hair and eyes are (added more red to my eyes because I always felt like my brown eyes were boring lol). I finished off the theme with my favorite color blue, a little bit of yellow to complement, and BAM! There I am, Gary! There I am!!

Jojo The Schmo was born! She is me, and I am her, haha. Everything about the design has aspects that mean something special to me. I wanted to keep things unique and fun, but simple enough to draw over and over, while still representing me. And that's why I love my sona so so much!!

Hope this could provide some helpful insight! Go forth and create your unique and wonderful sonas!! When you're done we should all have a picnic together in Dreamland. <3

[yh-hjabs]

Akita in the Tournament of Sources.

Does she have an elemental power? No. I don’t dare I’m still gonna write this.

It’s down below because I wrote quite a bit.. there might be spelling mistakes and I apologise. And characters may be out of character..

————————🐺 ❄️ ————————

Lloyd tapped his foot against the floor, impatiently waiting for the next fight. Wyldfire staring off to Roby who was getting ready to announce the next fighters. Nya looking around at crowds and packs of people nearby in hope she would find her lost lover; Jay Walker. He’d been missing since the merge after all.

Arin and Sora were off near a wall, Sora trying to see for any technology to use for her advantage and Arin wondering why he’s even here. He couldn’t fight he didn’t have an elemental power and his “spinjitzu” seemed more like a “fake-I’m-a-wannabe-ninja-it-su.” Like any other ninja fan.

Zane inspected anything that seemed out of the ordinary, with Cole by his side. Out of the two, Cole was the first to speak up.

“I wonder if people without elemental powers would be able to fight here.. like example, Arin, or! If the tournament allows 2v2! Then again I’m just, disliking how similar this is to the tournament of elements.” Cole recalled the past events of the ninjas quest to a separate island in hope of finding Zane. Which. Thank FSM they did, because well. Cole turned his head towards Zane, his titanium appearance standing out between everyone else’s.

“Perhaps, but I believe that would just be a typical tournament, not one that contains any, “history” to it. Or am I over examining it? I have been out of my mindset lately. The lack of my companion is affecting me.” Zane respond.

“Companion? Oh, P.I.X.A.L. You can call her your girlfriend, it’s easier!”

“I suppose, I will have to check in with her boundaries if I see her again.”

“When. You’ll find her Zane, I know you will.”

“Thank you Cole, that is kind of y—“

“Sorry for the long wait! But I’m announcing the next two competitors!” Roby shouted out, echoing through the whole area.

Everyone’s heads looked up towards Roby.

“Next up is… The one who makes you go “brrr!”, the one who brings the snow, the cold weather, the smart ninja. Zane! The elemental master of Ice!”

If Zane could breathe. He would have taken a deep breath.

“Versus.” Roby followed up, “A strange one, not an elemental master but instead a thick furred, shapeshifter, sorry- FORMLING! Akita!”

Lloyd couldn’t help but smile, knowing she was alive. But he quickly pieced the two together. He looked to Zane. If he remembers Akita, Akita is not one to pass up an opportunity for revenge. He just hopes Akita wouldn’t have remembered.

Zane covered any clear emotions. He muttered to himself.

“Talk about a rematch. I just hope she doesn’t get frozen this time.”

With a bit of hesitation, Zane walked up to the arena. Akita already there and you could tell, she was not impressed, her appearance reminded the same as what he last remembered her to look like. A wolf like hat. Braided black hair, that same Formling tribe outfit that he once hated to see, finished with red face paint on her cheeks and a white cape that resembled a tail with red tips.

She held her hands out, once the fight starts Zane knew she would transform into a wolf. Normally this wouldn’t have been an issue, a Formling would be frozen at sight. But he isn’t The Ice Emperor anymore.

He is going to fight fairly.

————————🐺 ❄️ ————————

aaaaa I miss Akita so much. Anyway i might write a part two where they fight, AND I might draw fan art for this but as of right now, no.

I hope you liked it because I did!

Bonus:

(I keep these two + General Vex, SamX P.I.X.A.L., Morro and s11 Gi Zane with me everywhere.)

[seriouslycalamitous]

Okay, first of all, I’m absolutely in love with your writing style, it’s so good and you’re so incredibly talented!! I’m really enjoying your shapeshifter fic, and am very excited to see where it goes.

Secondly, I was wondering how you manage to write so much each week? I’m an aspiring writer myself, and would like to start writing my first long fic, but I’m having trouble with the long part…. Do you have any tips?

Again, love all your fics, am very excited to see how the shapeshifter one will end (my brain is theorising so many random things), and I wish you a very lovely rest of your day!

-✨

AWWW this is all very very sweet!! I’m so happy you enjoy what I try so hard to write for you guys, that really does warm my heart! I’m beyond excited to post the ending soon!!!!

And those are some really good questions! I can definitely answer, though i might ramble a bit!

Personally, I’ve been a writer for a really long time. Ten years — so i’ve got my fair share of experience with writing.

English is my line of study, something I could rant about for a while if asked. Because of this, some stuff comes more easily for me than it does for a lot of people. Practice and time are the best ways to improve, whether you have traditional school backings or not.

And, secretly, I actually DON’T write a chapter every week! I prewrite the majority of my fics, and I only start rushing if I post before my fics are completely done. With my last fic, BTDOM, I had only prewritten 4/9 chapters, and I started speed-writing like 9k words a week once the updates caught up to me.

It was rough, I don’t recommend putting yourself on a scheduled deadline like that unless you’re confident. I know I can write pretty consistently, so I don’t tend to worry. For example, two days ago, I decided to add 3.9k words to Ch5 of CWTT and i wrote it in under 24 hours and then slept SO HARD.

While I don’t think i’m out of this world crazy, I definitely am NOT the standard for a regular fanfic writer. I practically write every hour of the day. I have the google docs app downloaded on my phone, so I can write while I wait for the bus, write between classes, so on and so forth. When you’re used to operating like that, and it’s your only hobby, you become kind of obnoxiously quick.

As for advice, a general rule of thumb is to try and write a little every day. A friend of mine has a writing goal to write 1k words a day - but that could be shortened to 500 or even less depending on your comfortability, it’s just constant progress!

When it comes to long fics, you should sit down with yourself and figure out what exactly you mean by long. My fics are long in word count, but short in chapter count. This is ideal for me, as it takes away the pressure of planning things that I think might never end, and it makes it easier to reach a goal without carrying on certain plot elements for longer than is necessary. I really honestly do recommend this!

Something else that is important is not biting off more than you can chew. Especially for your first long fic, don’t try to add too many, if any, side plots should they be avoidable. Smaller cast lists can help with this. You want to make sure you can complete the main story itself without having to stress over a loose end you forgot was there. If you finish writing, and you realize there’s wiggle room that won’t interrupt the main plot, going back and adding things, or making spin-offs in the same universe can be a fun treat!

You don’t have to plot EVERYTHING either. I tend to start with the end, a few generalized middle scenes in my head, and the beginning in mind. The fluff in between is where cute scenes like pirates debating their captain’s love life can come in! It’s recommended that these fluff scenes still add something into the plot, obviously, like showing the reader how a relationship is developing, how outside people view it, how this person interacts with a magical feature, etc.

A scene of, say, Scar doing paperwork without acknowledging anyone else or anything else beyond the paperwork for a thousand words is boring to read and will be boring to write too. Spare yourself!

Anyway, as you can tell, I’m super big on writing and I know a lot and I CANNOT stop talking. If you have any more questions or want any more advice on specific things, I love analyzing writing, especially in fanfic, and I’m happy to help!

Good luck with your fic!!!

[starscatteredsky]

Hi hi! I just found your blog and I love it!!!

Could you give me tips and maybe fashion tips gor a shapeshifter (kin)?

fashion and tips for a shapeshifter

pt: fashion and tips for a shapeshifter end pt

mix up lots of different styles and accessories constantly, stay fluid! dont lock yourself to a specific "aesthetic"

use lots of neopronouns, and switch them up constantly!

get some different types of gear! different tails and ears, paw gloves and horns, wings, antenna, scaled or furred textures, make yourself multiple different masks, etc! lots of different ways to present yourself!

try things like voice acting/impressions, cosplaying, body impressions, expressionism, or other shapeshifter like activities!

draw or use picrews to represent some of your forms!

try using different handwriting depending on how tidy your current form’s writing would be!

get some fake piercings, fake tattoos, henna, temporary die or hairspray, or fake press on nails, and other temporary ways of augmenting your appearance!

collect interesting trinkets or things to put in your living space that remind you of different forms of yours, don’t stick to one specific theme!

[ID in alt!]

image creds:

x x x

x x x

x x x

hope you like this! i tried to go for all sorts of different mixed vibes to get that shapeshifter feel!

-anon mod

[ID in alt!]

[condenhorn]

animal enthusiast m!reader + szyoth

content: NSFW, scratching, szyoth cunt, public

a/n: learned about australian bearded dragons, hopefully research payed off writing the lizard dilf while tweaking stuff. also in my imposter syndrome era but i’m forcing myself to write to get out of it. don't really like how it came out but enjoy!

you would’ve never thought that other unknown species existed in this time period. or rather, this time period in another realm.

due to your extensive knowledge and research on animal species and wanting to learn more about these other “realms” that liu kang kept speaking about with your studies, he allowed you to come with him and his “earthrealm champions” to a place called outworld.

now you knew monsters didn’t exist, but liu kang was crazy for saying that different realms co-exist. but you shut your mouth once you entered outworld and got kidnapped by shang tsung and general shao.

you certainly thought this was real seeing kenshi’s eyes were now nonexistent and a type of creature that you could barely make out the words he was saying since your ears rung, holding onto the bars of the metal chamber, desperate for a way out. what more could you expect?

not a reptilian shapeshifter for sure as he changed himself into a human, speaking about how he’s helping shang tsung in exchange for his family. only to realize that they were gone from the beginning once you and the others were let out.

though you did notice that szyoth—the name he told you—had similar characteristics to that of an australian bearded dragon the more you observed him.

how he allowed the rain to pour on his reptilian head so that he laps up water for some time, climbing trees effortlessly, can sleep standing up, a lot of similar qualities. and to that, you got more curious about how similar he is to the reptile.

it started off to be harmless, asking about his diet, heritage and abilities that make him who he is. but then curiosity got the better of you when you asked about how he reproduces, having an embarrassed szyoth at first before he answered that he has a cunt. that’s all it took for an inch to go a mile. you had to know what szyoth said was true.

so one question became two. that became four, and so on. personal, indignant questions that prattled szyoth’s cunt to start eliciting slick, avoidant eyes, and slight waves of his hands. and you knew by contextual evidence that he expected something to come out it.

so you nodded your head. quickly but surely to see if his species calls were similar. and that it was, when his eyes widened and his tail jolted amongst his discovery. it’s been a while since he last mated. more so since his family was killed off but it’s a chance.

so while the others navigated the living forest, you and szyoth snuck away somewhere where no one could hear the two of you. Or rather, hear him.

with szyoth wrapping his legs around your head as you lap him up, groaning into his cunt as it was getting hard to breathe from how tightly he squeezed your head further in. hoisting him over your shoulders with him leaning against a tree trunk for some stability. he seemed antsy, eager to have something since his time in imprisonment.

he couldn’t take it anymore as he urged you to put him down, ripping off your bottoms. cunt oozing of slick decorating the tip as he pushed you to the ground, straddling hips. cock against folds as he eased himself down, clawing your shoulders to draw blood. his head over your shoulder as you fuck into him.

[anachronismstellar]

I'm awake and I WAS ABLE TO WRITE even tho idk if I'm happy about this scene I think it's time to tell y'all how our dear Mobei-Jun is doing

He's...... Well. Here we go.

-----

Mobei did his best to avoid the food and water, but the chambers were not a laughing matter, the sequence of battles disrupting his recovery, forcing him to feed instead of meditating and gathering energy. They have gotten progressively worse, to the point of him finishing the last one with a cold to his bones so intense that made him swear to buy the softest carpets for Qinghua when he got back.

Because he would be back. Not if, when.

Another problem had been time. It felt like it ran differently inside the weird temple; he would look at the running numbers on the floating parchment, fight for hours, glare at it again and see that a few minutes had passed by. He was tired, but certainly not enough to lose time? But the other option would be the shapeshifter being capable of manipulating it. Then, how long has it been since he saw Qinghua? Weeks? Months?

He mustered all his energy to put the dark thoughts aside, head throbbing, arm numb. This time the Thing had made him exhaust his shadows, the roaring beast of his ancestors’ power eerily subdued.

He was ready to fall face forward on the bed when the sound of clapping made him turn around, an ice sword at ready.

“Oh, I apologize. It wasn't my intention to startle you,” the Thing said as kept Its distance, hands still clasped together.

“What. Do you want.” Mobei kept his sword pointed at It, muscles burning from tension. It was like a river of fire was coursing through his veins, making him hyper aware of his vulnerable state.

“I've came to congratulate you.” The Thing took a step to the side, then other, then one more, starting a wide circle around Mobei. “Your progress through the chambers has been remarkable. Better than expected,” It stopped next to the table where all the foods and drinks were served, most of them untouched. “However, your strength still is not up to your normal standards.”

Mobei had to force his body not to react, to not attack and kill the Thing and be done with this farce of kidnapping once and for all. It was provoking him, baiting him into being harsh. Even so the grip on his sword tightened, the ice not cracking purely because of it being made by Mobei himself.

“I don't understand what you mean by that.”

The Thing picked up one of the many berries, turning it side to side before eating it with a blank expression. Then It licked Its fingers, staring at Mobei.

“Would that suffice?” The bowl was pretty, translucid jade carved with drawings all over the rim, a piece of beauty that seemed to have been stolen from the Heavens. He could easily reach and grab it. He was wise enough to ignore the offer. Instead he kept his eyes on the Thing, considering his chances.

If Mobei attacked It, he would die. He was too tired and using a portal would be impossible at the moment. He considered running to the door, but what would be the chances of it being unlocked? Slim to none.

He might not have another opportunity, but it was most certainly a trap-

“What do you mean?” he asked instead of acting, the tip of his sword scraping the jade bowl, tapping it to the side.

“I've just demonstrated that the food is not poisoned. I have no intention of harming you, that would make this entire interaction pointless. If I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead.” It said with a small tilt of Its head to the side, picking up another berry, slowly chewing it as if having to count the bites. “You've been maintaining the bare minimum to survive the chambers,” the Thing made a noise that Mobei guessed it was supposed to be a sigh. “However, to have accurate data you need to be at your full strength. Which means you have to eat.”

“I have eaten,” he snapped as he shifted his foot, talking the smallest step towards the door. Many years ago, the possibility of even considering running away from an enemy would be unspeakable. Now? His husband had taught him more than once the advantages of living another day to fight back.

He couldn't- he wouldn't die here, away from Qinghua.

“Not enough,” the Thing moved Its fingers as if plucking the air, the clicking sound of a lock settling in place making Mobei let a curse through his teeth. “Consider this an incentive. The more you postpone having proper meals and rest, the longer it will take for you to return to user UV001.”

Again with that cursed title, as if Qinghua were a thing instead of a person, as if he were an amusing toy and all of this has been a ploy to make his husband dance in circles trying to find Mobei.

“Why do you call him that?” He didn't want to keep talking with the Thing, but he recognized an opportunity to gather information when he saw one. “Why not call him by his name?”

“Why would you want to know?” the Thing asked after eating Its third or fourth berry, bright green eyes focusing on Mobei-Jun as It started walking back towards the door. “This information is not relevant to you or to your progress in the chambers.”

This wasn’t his type of battlefield, and Mobei wasn't good at improvising. Politics and thinking fast on his feet had been Shang Qinghua's skill. It was what made them a ruthless pair. When his husband's honey words weren't enough, Mobei was there to be his sword and see that his will was done. And when Mobei ice and shadows couldn't reach the minds and hearts of enemies, Shang Qinghua was there with a whisper and a smile, ready to turn the tables to their favor.

It wasn't as if he were bad at court machinations, he had been raised by his uncle after all. He just preferred not to deal with it. And by letting Qinghua be responsible for most of the paperwork in the past years, he might have become a bit rusty on these types of confrontations.

He didn't close his eyes, but still he threw a prayer for any Gods that might hear to lend him the brains to beat the Thing in their game.

“Shang Qinghua had many names during our life together,” he said slowly, buying himself time to think. “But you call him by a title this one has never heard before. Makes this one think that you've known Shang Qinghua from somewhere else.”

“Ah,” It walked towards Mobei, offering the food one more time, a stilled smile pulling Its face, baring Its teeth in a poor imitation of kindness. “Good to see that your mind is sharp even with your levels of exhaustion. However, this information cannot be given freely.”

“And I'm willing to pay a price for it,” he took the bowl from the Thing's hand, eating one of the berries in a demonstration of good will.

The Thing's eyes glowed as they became unfocused, staring over Mobei's shoulder. The silence dragged, heavy as a serpent-boar from the southern valleys, the Thing static, as if It had been frozen.

It blinked, the image of Its face shifting like a spectral shadow, overlaying for a second, worsening Mobei's headache. The unsettling smile; that It had dropped while staring at the wall, came back with vengeance as the Thing pulled too many of the magical parchments up, the crackling magic giving It a maniac air that sent shivers down Mobei's spine.

He swallowed dry, as if a heavy stone scratched his throat and sunk down on his stomach, the taste of berries turning into ashes on his mouth.

“Let's make a deal, then.” It said as It touched one of the parchments, moving Its fingers over symbols that Mobei couldn't comprehend. “For each chamber you complete using your full strength and energy you will acquire a number of points. You can trade these points for answers. As a reward.”

“Very well,” he agreed with a sharp nod, holding back a flinch when the cold fingers touched his forehead, right on his demon mark. “Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations. I hope you enjoy your beta user experience!”

Then It vanished, leaving Mobei with the feeling of having sold his soul for a meager price.

-----

This System thanks Mobei-Jun for his efforts

[sock-to-the-third]

The House in the Cerulean Sea

By TJ Klune

1. Idk why but I cried like 6+ times reading it. It wasn’t a sad book but all the really happy moments were very moving.

2. I love me some middle age queers.

3. Such a diverse personality cast.

So of course, you have the kids.

Lucy - the drama queen

Chauncy - heart of gold bell hop

Talia - the best fucking character ever and beloved gardner

Sal - my beloved timid writer

Theodore - button boi!

Phee - forest sprite

Ok, no shade to Phee but I don’t remember much about her beside her scene with the yellow flower and thinking how cool it was that unlike the other kids, she had a mentor.

I wouldn’t call that a criticism, just when you have such a big main cast I will definitely forget some of them and definitely did not have to google her name. NOPE!

…

Parnassus and Linus, I of course loved but honestly, now that I’ve had a couple days since reading it, I love how much Linus was the “Watson” of the story.

Yes, he was the perspective character but so much is centered around developing the kids so much soon as he’s on the island, I forget more about him as time rolls on and remember the kids more.

Especially Talia. Oh Talia, do I have beard envy of Talia. To be a hundred years old with a beard, I would’ve killed for that as a kid.

Anyway, more so it’s about the cool combo of her passion for gardening, glorious morros humor. I just can’t get over how she pretends to be a statue and gets offended for being called “strange.”

Idk, anyone who has that level of skill to threaten someone with a shovel is a fave in my book.

Yeah, yeah, Lucy can make you go inside out but can he threaten you while also being endearing about putting you six feet under? Fuck no! That’s Talia’s job.

She’s so fucking cool.

…

Chauncy would also be up there. I just love how they don’t know shit about his lineage and how he just chose his gender and everybody was like “yup, you’d know better than us.”

Also just the way he tries to get tips for everything bellhop related all the way down to compliments just stole my heart.

I love it when kids do cute endearing stuff but children are master manipulators and I like that Chauncy got some edge. Wonderful kiddo.

…

Sal would also be up there. Love his introduction— honestly feels like his poetry in how it’s meeting up with Calliope.

My favorite scene is a follow up to Linus helping him move his desk to the window and how Parnassus mentions how loud it is compared to when he was in the cubbard.

Like, Sal was taking up space. TvT that shapeshifting dogo magic fella deserves the world. And I would stab anyone who fucked with him.

Also, I love how they made him so tall. I feel like so often kids are portrayed as teeny tiny and I like there’s space made for tall kiddos since it seems often they’re just treated like adults rather than the kids they are.

They just got stilt legs.

Still got squishy kid brains.

…

Parnassus.

Oh Parnassus.

My favorite scene of all is when he is about to tear into the townsfolk who are on the bridge. Phoenix powers activated. Then Linus cups his cheeks and helps him back down. *grabs my heart* my dear! How dare you make me have big feelings TJ Klune. How dare!

…

But yeah, generally loved the book.

Though, I gotta admit the changing the system vibe rather than tearing down… mmmmm It makes me think how I want to do my own writing.

That’s about as much as I can articulate.