#writing save

[anadorablekiwi]

Ways to demonstrate the level of exhaustion a character has

in the format of ‘Thing (example)’

Injures self doing something mundane (sprains ankle walking up or down small flight of stairs ir on flat surface, pricks finger chopping veggies, etc)

Says one thing, means something else (*holding a potato* *says with full confidence* this is a tomato.)

Does mundane, simple task Very Wrong (places sword with the clothes and tries to stuff scarf in the scabbard)

Switches the order of two words in a sentence (the waterproof says it’s bandaid)

Zoning out. Especially mid sentence. (“As i was saying, we should, um, *zones out*)

Says things that literally dont make sense [taking an example from my dear friend Tellie this time— “two stone birds.” (<instead of two birds one stone)]

Brain goes blank/shuts down when they try to do something mildly complicated (‘quick whats 2+5?’ ‘Um. Uh. 8.’)

No inhibitions or restraint (*is not one to show much affection* *walks in, sits down next to friend/crush/lover/etc, and immediately cuddles with them and/or falls asleep*

Cant think of any more, feel free to add on! This list is mostly for my own purposes, but i figured some of y’all might find my it entertaining or useful (or give me even more ideas/ways)

[wishfulsketching]

I have finally finished season 2 of Arcane and can now enjoy your art without fear!!! They should be happy together 🥺

I take it "they" means zaundads because that is what I've been drawing the most BUT, lets be honest, applies to like 98% of the characters in the show.

They should've been a big happy familyyyy

[artsymeeshee]

[tootkin-goblin]

Just remembered, as I was cooking some potato, about that time I went on holidays at my (now ex) girlfriend's grandma and met her whole family on this side.

All of them, the uncles, the aunts, the cousins of all age and gender, all of them told me about the legendary mashed potato that the grandma does. How good it is, how they can't reproduce it, and how the grandma has never told the recipe to anyone ever. A mystery, a secret she's going to take to the grave!

And like, it's a very good mashed potato. The recipe is simple, you boil some big potato, then you mash them with salt, pepper, herbes de Provence (a mix used almost everywhere in the south of france made of rosemary, oregano, thyme, basil, chervil, tarragon, bay leaf, fennel, marjoram, sage, and wild thyme), a good chunk of butter and a dollop of olive oil.

I know because she was very happy to show me how it's done when I, alone, went to help her in the kitchen (:

[yourlocal-lichen]

underwater horror monster that visits the nearby human city sometimes. it has a human form but its hair is made of seaweed and its skin is a pale blue-green and its eyes are yellow and teeth are black and sharp. but it's a city so people just let it go about its business without judgement because yeah there's weird people in a city what of it.

asking to pet people's dogs and clearly a little jumpy and afraid of them but giving them nice little pats on the head. going to the bookstore and hiding the water damage on the books because it has no money to pay for them. trying out new types of croissants (it likes the meat ones best) and sitting under a parasol with a cup of coffee (it does not like coffee but someone left theirs at this table).

going back to the sea and taking its true form, which no man has ever seen and lived to tell the tale. sinking ships, eating divers, and grabbing sailors from their ships.

[sami--onley]

Judy suffers from a lack of food and medicine.

I, Sami, do my best to provide her and her sisters with vitamins and care, holding on to hope despite the difficult circumstances.

Donate to Judy; every contribution makes a difference in her life and gives her a chance for a better future.

Donate here🍁

[magsdoodle]

spideypool but it's a comedy of errors

[confuzing]

Street kid Luo Binghe makes the mistake of letting some weirdo get a hold of him and finds himself locked up in a windowless room somewhere.

The only bright spot in this shit situation is that there's another boy in there with him. Shen Yuan is clearly in considerably worse shape than Luo Binghe and he says he's been here for a very long time. But he's so kind to Binghe and deliberately draws their captor's attention to himself (and away from Binghe) whenever he can.

He also, after Binghe's been there about a month, steals their captor's keys, unlocks the restraints they're both in, and then shoves Binghe out the boarded up window he's been prying open when he had time.

Shen Yuan is too big to fit through the window, he says. They both know that's not true but they can also both hear that their captor is coming-he must have noticed the keys were missing- and Shen Yuan intends to stall him while Binghe gets away.

Binghe promises to come back with help and SY just smiles and nods and shoos him away.

He runs as fast as he can, and once he's far enough away from the house he escaped from he starts asking for help- but no one is listening to him. And he knows if he goes to the local guard he'll probably be handed back over as a runaway slave... And then he sees two men who both seen almost to shine in the dirty city streets... they must be cultivators, they must. If anyone can help him now it will be them. So Luo Binghe throws himself at the taller of the two men and starts begging for help.

Shen Qingqiu is absolutely positive this kid is trying to lure them into an ambush, but Yue Qingyuan- who invited himself along on SQQ's mission without asking him- doesn't think so.

YQY goes with LBH, and SQQ follows, complaining that this is a trick the whole way- up until they discover that yes actually the local nobleman does have a secret room he's been imprisoning children in and there is indeed an almost beaten to death SY in there.

YQY sends SQQ off with SY- gotta get that kid medical attention ASAP- while he and LBH stay behind to Politely Ask Some Questions.

When YQY and LBH arrive back at the sect SY is still in the medical ward but isn't dying and is even awake! LBH is relieved and refuses to leave him again.

YQY fills SQQ in that not only were both boys not slaves, SY was actually the son of the nobleman's first wife she had as the result of an affair. He disappeared from the household around the time the first wife died and all the servants assumed their Lord had sold the boy or killed him outright.

But now that the nobleman has died a sudden and painful and extremely mysterious death it looks like SY has inherited the estate. YQY will have someone from An Ding go sort out the details since SY can't.

SQQ watches YQY smile at the little urchins they've rescued and talk in a way that obviously means he intends them to stay and says, internally 'Fuck no Qi-ge you don't get to replace me with a Shen you actually did manage to save. Absolutely not!'

Out loud the conversation goes:

SQQ: I want the older boy.

YQY: What?

SQQ: You intend for them to stay right? I want the older boy for Qing Jing Peak, you can keep the little one if you want.

YQY, pleased and assuming SQQ and SY must have bonded while he and LBH were away: Of course.

SQQ and SY have not bonded, and once they get back to QJ Peak things are tense. SQQ is low-key kinda jealous of SY and also reminded much too much of himself by the boy. Except he was never as naive and stupid as this kid is! Why is he so nice? How?? And the little shit isn't even afraid of him!

SY, deeply sarcastic: Oh nooo. I'm going to be beaten? Such a thing has never happened to me before! *Coughs because his throat is permanently messed up from being nearly strangled to death*

SQQ, aware that if he hits the kid now he loses: You're not allowed in the library for a week.

SY: What!

SQQ: The next words out of your mouth better be "yes Shizun, sorry Shizun" or it'll be two weeks.

SY: ...yes Shizun, sorry Shizun.

Meanwhile LBH and YQY are having a magical adventure in becoming a found family and are bonding over their obsessions with their respective Shens. They absolutely come visit QJ Peak at least twice a week much to SQQ's displeasure and SY's delight.

[suntails]

love will truly live

[egophiliac]

hear me out

silver vanrouge ❌️

silver draconia ✔️

malleus beats lilia to the punch

[hiscrimsonembrace]

cw: no boundaries, possessiveness, spit marking, mild coercion

Give me a Ghost who is absolutely down bad and disgusting for you. Never heard of the term called boundaries in his life.

Teammates? He steps outside to clear his head—craving fresh air, only to find you with a cigarette between your fingers. Asks for a drag, but pushes it aside when you try to hand it over. Instead, he leans in, big grin plastered on his face, lifting the mask just enough to expose the tip of his nose. "Blow." You hesitate. He doesn't. A firm grip on your wrist ensures you won't slip away. Mouth open, waiting, he insists that every drag you take isn't for you. It's for him.

Neighbours? After months of absence, you find him waiting on the stairs of your apartment complex. He doesn't talk much, but you know he listens. You tell him about how you've been, what's changed. Maybe you mention someone new. Maybe you don't. Doesn't matter. He doesn't hold back—just sinks his teeth into your neck, sucks at the tender flesh with the intent to leave a mark. With his task completed, he cups your face, gazing down at your big doe eyes and mouth wide open in surprise. Takes this chance to spit in your mouth, marking you inside and out. "Sorry, doll. My scent wore off since last time. Had t' sort that out'."

part 2 with a yandere!Ghost is up, so go check it out if you’d like ♡

[kaipassedgo]

every day i wake up and am mad at the end of steves storyline and the full and complete lack of people who GET IT

[frigidfries]

happy birthday deltarune. happy late birthday undertale. here's a comic!

cheers to best friends forever & ever & ever & ever & ev

[bluerosefox]

Protecting Family

Hmmm

I'm on a Danny is Dick's child kick rn so I'm making more.

But lets add in some Ghost King Danny!, Dad to a deaged Ellie and Dan! And toddler Mar'i Grayson.

Danny was conceived during Dick's amnesia year when he was Ric and the woman couldn't find him to tell him (or maybe the Owls caught wind of the pregnancy and took her) and he ended up somehow (hmmm maybe a meddling time keeper?) with the Fentons.

Danny grows as a Fenton, he knows he was adopted btw, then becomes Phantom, protects Amity, becomes the Ghost King and things seem to be going okay between Amity Parkers and the Infinite Realms since they took care of the GIW problem, AND has been a good doting teen dad to his deaged 'cousins/clones' turned kids.

Danny was going to go pick his kids up from daycare one day when CHAOS happens. Just as he wrangles Ellie onto his shoulders, cause she wants to be tall today, and about to take Dan's hand cause he's and I quote "A big boy and not a baby like Ellie, Dad!" he suddenly feels the tug of his family being in danger.

Thing is, its a blood related danger. Meaning someone blood related to him was in grave danger, and by the emotions he can feel, its someone young, way younger than him.

Problem.

The only people Danny knows with his blood in their veins and are young enough for the feeling are with him.

So who?

But due to Danny being a protector spirit AND knowing the feeling is from someone as young as his own kids, Danny decides to use his Ghost King Powers to summon said person from the danger to him.

Danny opens his free arms out just as a tiny toddler with black hair like his own but with bright green eyes, even the sclera were green, in a ruined party dress drops from the sky from the summoning circle that had opened above him.

Danny stares at the terrified child, whose hands are tied by rope and was crying, and takes notes of certain traits she had that he saw every time in the mirror or on his own kids, same eye shape and cheekbones. He can tell his ghost core has claimed her as family but not as his kid though.

No the connection that formed was almost like his connection with Jazz but a bit stronger.

This kid, was his sister. His blood related one.

-Meanwhile-

Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing, and his family were freaking the fuck out.

Dick was already panicked when his daughter Mar'i had gotten kidnapped just a few hours ago by the Joker.

Now he was feeling pure dread when his daughter, who was about to be killed, was suddenly pulled into a strange glowing circle at the last minute and disappeared into thin air.

[bi-writes]

the new baby you take care of is the cutest baby you've ever met. (a lil dubcon, baby trapping, 18+)

he has a big head with a tuff of little blond waves, and he has the brightest brown eyes in the entire world. he smiles at every face you make at him, and he takes a bottle like a champ and will nap for hours as long as you're quiet.

his father has a strict schedule set for him. when you met that big man for the very first time, you were speechless. your teeth had clacked together with how fast you tried to close your gawking mouth, but it was impossible not to with how much he towered over you, nearly touching the top of the doorway.

he is methodical, down to every minute. tacked onto the fridge, he had shown you his son's current schedule, which he emphasized with a dead glare must be followed to a T.

two feedings in the morning followed by a nap. another feeding. a longer nap. another feeding. another nap. all separated in increments of 45 minutes, with instructions on how to use the bottle warmer and how to measure the formula.

his son does not cry. his father had told you, if he cries, y'r doin' somethin' wrong. and he was right. the baby only cried when he was hungry, and he would fall into a dead sleep as soon as you gave him a bottle.

it's odd, to take care of someone else's baby. especially this man's. there's no woman in the house, as far as you can tell. the whole house is decorated very minimally, cozy and in shades of warm greens and cool blues and browns. there are no heeled boots by the door or pretty fur coats, and whenever you pass by his bedroom, only one side of his bed ever looks lived-in. there are no pictures on the walls, no makeup in the bathroom drawers, and no pads or tampons under the sink.

just a big, unfeeling man and his big, adorable baby.

but you think that your actions to get this big, unfeeling man to like you are starting to have the wrong kind of implications.

it starts with dinner. you start to make it, using the ingredients from his fridge to make stews and buttery mashed potatoes and roasted veggies. the image of you stirring a pot with his baby on your hip has not left him, and whenever you don't have some kind of meal cooking when he gets home, you answer to someone curt, annoyed, and cold, even to the touch.

then it's the decorating. you thought his couch was a little bare, so now there's a few throw blankets laying across the back of it. there's a vase of pretty tulips on the coffee table. you're growing herbs on the windowsill, little pots of thyme and rosemary and basil. you leave house shoes by the door now, and even when you're not there, he sees those fuzzy pink slippers in the foyer, and he can't help the way he chubs up just seeing them when you're not around.

you start to bring some extra changes of clothes. after the baby spit up on you more than once in a day, you bring a duffel bag with you once a week with extra changes of clothes. he snarls when he sees your clothes in one of his drawers; pretty black panties and matching bras, all laid out under your lounge wear right next to his fucking socks.

the toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. the multi-colored chapsticks in the drawers. tampons and pads organized in the cabinet, your moisturizer next to his shaving cream. he smacks his fist against the wall when he sees the finished package of your birth control in the trash because wot the fuck are y'doing taking those things when y'know i want another--

he can see you in the baby monitor. swaying in the dark of his son's room, the baby's head on your chest as you rock him softly. you're singing a little, a gentle hum to soothe him enough that his eyes start closing. he groans a little when he sees your eyes shut as you kiss his son on the forehead, cooing at him as you pat his little back and tell him to have sweet dreams.

you're making brownies when he comes home that night. his son is seated in his high chair, clapping his hands, and you're smiling at him and cooing in that baby voice you do as you take the warm brownies out of the oven. when you see him emerge from the darkness of his living room, you smile at him, taking off the oven mitts.

"hi, simon," you say softly, and his pupils dilate when you slip a hand over his son's head to soothe him. "i made some dessert, hope that's okay. thought you might wanna try my new recipe."

simon comes into the kitchen as you take his baby out of his high chair. you hoist him up against your hip, and when simon comes closer, you giggle as tilts his head to the side and stares down at you both. you tilt your head back a little, blinking up at him, and the flutter of your lashes is enough to have him rock hard in his cargos as his hands curl into frustrated fists at his sides.

"i'm gonna put him down for bed, it's a little late," you tell him. you hoist his son up a little higher on your hip, picking up his little chubby arm and waving up at simon. "say goodnight, daddy."

simon grins under his mask at the soft lilt of your voice. you try not to squeak when one of his big hands slides around your waist to hold you at your back, and he bends down to kiss his son's forehead through his mask.

"goodnight, my boy."

you try not to linger on the idea that he may have grabbed your ass as you walked away. no, his arms are just so long, they grazed you while you passed by him.

the baby always goes down nice and easy. one bottle later, with a full stomach, he's rubbing his little eyes and fussing in your arms as he tries to fall asleep. he's a mover, simon's little one--always grasping around with his arms and flopping onto his side in the bed. oftentimes, after a nap, he's facing the opposite direction and on the other end of the crib when you come to get him.

so you shouldn't be surprised when as he's falling asleep, his little grubby hands reach for you and pull.

your eyes widen when you hear the pop of buttons. you look down, gasping, when you see his son has grabbed onto the front of your blouse and pulled the first few buttons out. they clatter onto the floor in a mess, and you're not able to see where they go with it so dark in his room.

"oh, god!"

you try to be gentle as you set the baby down in his crib. he immediately sticks his thumb in his mouth with his head lolling to the side, and you try to pick up anything you step on as you hurry out of the room, trying to hold your shirt together.

it's useless. you're standing there in the hallway, hastily shutting the baby's room closed, tits out at eight in the evening.

"tha' why he so good ta ya, mama?"

your eyes bug out of your head when you see simon there. he's standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes are focused on your poor open blouse. the bra you're wearing leaves nothing to the imagination--just mesh with underwire, and when simon comes closer, there's virtually nothing separating you when he reaches up with that gloved hand and cups one breast, thumb smoothing over your nipple before he tugs on it gently.

"wha--simon--"

"thinks y'r his mum, pretty tits out like tha'," simon hisses. "'f ya wanted it so bad, why didn't ya just say?"

"simon--"

he tsks, using both hands this time to grip your blouse by the edges and tug it down your arms. it falls around your elbows, and he takes the straps of your bra with it, until it's pooled around your waist and your tits fall free.

"fuckin' hell," he breathes, and your lips part gently as he hikes up his mask and spits on your nipples before sucking them into his mouth. "mmmph..."

you arch your back as he rips the rest of the buttons off with one smooth tug. your blouse falls, and your bra follows it, until you're in nothing but your skirt, backing up into the darkness of his bedroom as he kicks the door shut. you scramble to get him back on top of you when your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you're laying down--grabbing around his shoulders as you try to guide his mouth back to your breasts where he can suckle on them with that filthy mouth of his.

"knew it--" he rasps. "fuck, i knew it--"

your eyes squeeze shut when he ruts his hips against yours. your panties are ruined, slick wet and digging uncomfortably into your folds, but the scratch of simon's jeans have your back bowing at a hard angle, your fingers sliding between your bodies as you reach for his zipper. you gasp when you feel him under your hand, straining against denim, the girth of him tying your stomach in hard knots as you think about what it'll take to get you open enough for him to slip in.

"keepin' me fat," simon murmurs. "holdin' my baby like tha', wot did ya think was goin' ta happen, eh?"

"h-huh?"

"'m gonna make you fat, too, swee'eart," he says, smoothing his hand over your tummy. "saw those little pills in y'r bag. it won't take today, but we'll try again tomorrow, yeah?"

you're drooling as he fucks you. your hips are hiked up, your skirt flipped up as his thighs smack against your ass. you're not privy to the way the fat of you shakes every time he's buried to the hilt, but simon appreciates it, tongue out as he watches you push back against him to try and get yourself filled quicker. he traces your spine with his fingers, leaning over you as he watches your fingers dig into his dark sheets and grip for dear life as he gives it to you fast and deep. it's a mess of wet between you, and you know the bed underneath you will be soaked by the time he's done with you, but you can't think about that when the very thing you've been wanting since the day you met him is so close, so within reach.

you haven't taken a single one of those pills since the first week you met that fat, beautiful baby. maybe simon didn't take too close a look at the dated little pills in your bag and in the bin, the little calendar you used to mark rotting away in a forgotten pocket, gathering dust.

when simon comes, your mouth is filled with saliva, and you gurgle between barely-lucid giggles as your hips sink into the mattress. he's saying something, but you don't hear it. instead you reach down with your fingers and stuff them inside, trying to gather as much of his cum and keep it. when simon tries to cum in your mouth later, you nearly bite his dick off.

how dare he try and waste it?

[crazywolf828]

To all my writers who have a tough time with smut terms and not knowing which ones to use, I have found the holy grail for us.

This reddit user, who I've recently found out is @kjscottwrites here on tumblr, took a poll of 3,500 people and went really in depth with asking their favorite terminology, along with actual pie charts on what the readers preferred to see in their smut.

Check out their post with the link to the Google doc here!