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We looked inside some of the posts by charredshadows and here's what we found interesting.
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Last Seen Tumblr Blogs
Fun Fact
Tumblr was the first site to host the blog for President Barack Obama in 2011.
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I assure you: somebody, somewhere, is on the exact same wavelength as you are.
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Jerking off is incest
Sometimes I feel like you guys say things because you're bored
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20 Compelling Positive-Negative Trait Pairs
Here are 20 positive and negative trait pairs that can create compelling character dynamics in storytelling:
1. Bravery - Recklessness: A character is courageous in the face of danger but often takes unnecessary risks.
2. Intelligence - Arrogance: A character is exceptionally smart but looks down on others.
3. Compassion - Naivety: A character is deeply caring but easily deceived due to their trusting nature.
4. Determination - Stubbornness: A character is persistent in their goals but unwilling to adapt or compromise.
5. Charisma - Manipulativeness: A character is charming and persuasive but often uses these traits to exploit others.
6. Resourcefulness - Opportunism: A character is adept at finding solutions but is also quick to exploit situations for personal gain.
7. Loyalty - Blind Obedience: A character is fiercely loyal but follows orders without question, even when they're wrong.
8. Optimism - Denial: A character remains hopeful in difficult times but often ignores harsh realities.
9. Humor - Inappropriateness: A character lightens the mood with jokes but often crosses the line with their humor.
10. Generosity - Lack of Boundaries: A character is giving and selfless but often neglects their own needs and well-being.
11. Patience - Passivity: A character is calm and tolerant but sometimes fails to take action when needed.
12. Wisdom - Cynicism: A character has deep understanding and insight but is often pessimistic about the world.
13. Confidence - Overconfidence: A character believes in their abilities but sometimes underestimates challenges.
14. Honesty - Bluntness: A character is truthful and straightforward but often insensitive in their delivery.
15. Self-discipline - Rigidity: A character maintains strong control over their actions but is inflexible and resistant to change.
16. Adventurousness - Impulsiveness: A character loves exploring and trying new things but often acts without thinking.
17. Empathy - Overwhelm: A character deeply understands and feels others' emotions but can become overwhelmed by them.
18. Ambition - Ruthlessness: A character is driven to achieve great things but willing to do anything, even unethical, to succeed.
19. Resilience - Emotional Detachment: A character can endure hardships without breaking but often seems emotionally distant.
20. Strategic - Calculative: A character excels at planning and foresight but can be cold and overly pragmatic in their decisions.
These pairs create complex, multi-dimensional characters that can drive rich, dynamic storytelling.
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Another and Another, Again and Again
Summary: JC was just trying to go about their life, work, eat, sleep, kiss girlfriend- why did it have to be them? They've never been the rescued party before.
Chapter One: Flowery Language to Cover Up Some Real Bullshit
POV: Jennifer Charles
Content warnings: Kidnapping, Potential attempted murder, Non-Consensual drugging, Cannon typical language
Word Count: 2056
JC stretches their arms over their head, groaning in satisfaction as their back pops. “That good, huh?” Cyrus teases, his signature lopsided grin spanning his face. JC sticks their tongue out playfully as they return to their prepwork. The lunch rush will be coming in soon, and they need to make sure that there’s enough batter and dough for today’s offered baked goods before they are inevitably called out into the front to help serve customers.
Rethu ducks into the kitchen to snag a tray of ready hellfire muffins. She plants a kiss on Cyrus’ cheek as she passes, shouting behind her. “Cyrus, get up here. I’m going on break.” JC raises an eyebrow at the blue faerie, poking fun at his preening reaction to his girlfriend’s kiss. He makes a face in return, pulling a chuckle from the both of them, and then leaves for the front of house.
JC zones into the mixing and measuring of their craft as they work. Cyrus, Rethu, and Husniya all periodically move in and out of the kitchen, checking on times and taking fresh batches. JC’s hands are caked in flour and they are exhausted by the time closing rolls around. They’re looking at the mess of dishes and ingredients they’ve made and mourning their date with Nicole tonight when Husniya ushers their other two coworkers into the kitchen and starts pointing out things that need to be dealt with.
“Thank you,” JC softly says to the older woman.
“Oh hush,” she scolds lightheartedly, patting them on the arm. “We know you have a date to get to, and it’s no big deal. We’re happy to help.” JC’s heart swells at the support, stamping the instinctual negative self-talk before it can ruin the moment. With their help, the clean up takes ten or twenty minutes instead of the hours JC was facing earlier. They bid their coworkers a good night as Cyrus closes up behind the four of them, and then hurry to catch the bus.
Nicole is waiting for them on her couch when they arrive, flicking through a book they’ve seen her read probably a thousand times by now. One of her favorites. She looks up at JC as they close the front door and lock it behind them. “Sorry I’m so late, babe,” they chuckle nervously. They set their sleepover bag down by the couch and take off their jacket. Nicole hums as she closes her book and stands up from the couch to greet them at the door.
“You’re okay. I don’t mind,” she says, but her voice trembles just a little. She kisses JC on the cheek and takes their hand to lead them into the kitchen. Their mouth waters as they lay their eyes on the warm cheddar-broccoli soup waiting for them on the stove top, and Nicole gestures to it mutely. A silent offer. JC pulls two bowls out of the cupboard and hands them to their girlfriend, and then retrieves two plastic forks from the drawer while she ladles soup into their bowls.
She pulls her second dinner table chair around the table to sit beside hers, and then they take their seats. “How was your day off?” JC asks after a few moments of just shoveling soup down their gullet and savoring the warmth of a home cooked meal. It’s a Saturday, meaning Nicole doesn’t have school, and Saturdays are her day off from the witch coven, meaning she had all day to herself.
“It was okay. I mostly just read but I went to the park for a short while after I saw you at the café. I did a little bit of divination as well,” she answers, her voice edged with concern as she explains her day. JC tilts their head at her when she doesn’t continue, their own worry beginning to blossom. She takes a deep, steadying breath and then says very quietly, “I saw you in one of those visions. You in danger, approaching death.” And then louder like she’s trying to convince herself, “It felt more like a dream than an actual vision, though, so I don’t even know if I should give it much thought.”
She leans into JC’s side, resting her head on their shoulder. They wrap their arm around her shoulder and pet her with their thumb. They’re not sure what else they can do right now. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” They chuckle humorlessly. Nicole’s visions have never failed them before, but.
JC shakes their head. “It’s fine. If anything does happen you already have me carrying at least six protection charms, and I have a gun. I’d like to see anything try to fuck with me while I’m waving a nine-millimeter in its face,” they actually laugh this time, their confidence drawing a smile from Nicole as well.
They help with the dinner cleanup and then allow their girlfriend to drag them into a shower in her tiny bathroom. God, I’m going to marry this woman some day. The thought doesn’t shock them anymore, and they welcome it in as they watch Nicole as she readies the couch for a night of cuddles and bingeing their favorite shows. They marvel at how easy it is to just exist with Nicole, her gentle grounding nature keeping their head on right.
“What do you want to watch?” Nicole asks. She flicks through the options on their streaming service with the remote in her hand. JC only answers with a content hum.
“Mm, I don’ care,” they mumble. “You pick.” Their head bobs with Nicole’s chuckle, and she threads her fingers through their hair. She settles on a movie, some nature documentary. They watch the first ten or twenty minutes of the documentary, not really paying any attention in favor of the soft tingles sparking along their scalp every time Nicole’s fingers skate across it. JC raises a tired, mostly limp hand for Nicole to take, which she does, lacing their fingers together and holding their tied hands close to her chest.
They let sleep claim them slowly, their heart full of joy and tenderness.
Nicole leans against JC’s shoulder again as they share their breakfast the next morning. She uses one hand to eat her breakfast, and the other to hold onto JC. They’re already running through their baking plans for work today, plotting out what the menu should be and calculating how much batter and/or dough they’ll need. They bought a new set of measuring cups that should hopefully cut back on some of their workload, but they’ll have to swing by their apartment to pick them up.
They press a kiss into the top of Nicole’s head as they stand from their seat and take their cereal bowl to the sink to rinse it out. JC hums an explanation about their new measuring cups. Nicole appears by their side, bowl abandoned on the table, her eyes wide and scared. “Is that really necessary?” she asks, the distress clear in her voice. “Can’t you do that tomorrow? Let me drive-” They interrupt her by shaking their head and taking her hands in theirs.
“I will be fine,” they reassure. They don’t force her away when she pulls them into a tight hug. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ve got this.” They kiss her forehead and pet her hair. Nicole sighs, curling her fists into the back of JC’s shirt.
“Just be safe. Okay?” she demands, something JC could never refuse.
They cackle affectionately. “Of course, babe. When have I ever been not safe?” they ask jokingly. Nicole pulls back just enough to raise an accusatory eyebrow at them, and they laugh again. JC kisses her on her nose as she finally lets them out of her protective hug. “I will call you when I get to my apartment, and then when I get to work.”
JC snags their jacket from the side of the couch, slinging their bag over their shoulder, and squeeze Nicole one last time before they head out. They don’t live very far from her, really only a forty-five minute walk to the northeast, and they can always take the bus if need be; but they gave themself enough time to walk there and walk to work. They like walking sometimes. Watching the pigeons watching JC and the other people milling around, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the sounds of the city.
They make sure they look both ways before they cross the street at the small intersection, their apartment building just another block away, but an unforeseen car comes careening around the corner. They can feel as the copper protection charm chain Nicole gifted them, the first ever, shatters when they jump out of the car’s path just in time that it only clips them in the ankle.
JC hits the ground rolling and hops back up to their feet before their brain can even fully register what the hell just happened. They whip around as the car, a little blue thing, smashes into the stop sign and knocks it over. The engine starts to smoke as the driver and passenger stumble out of the car, looking a little bewildered and lost.
JC watches from a distance, still coming down from their own near-death experience, until the driver stumbles over his own feet and almost topples into the asphalt. They hurry over to check on him, on both of them. From the corner of their eye, they don’t miss as a white truck pulls up behind them while they help the injured driver.
Blood drips from his temple and one ear, and JC is fairly certain that he has at least a mild concussion. The injured passenger stumbles around the car, rushing to his friend’s side. “Shit. Shit-” he cusses, a stream of others too low for JC to hear following quickly behind. He, more stable on his feet, helps JC guide the driver over to the street corner and lower him down onto the concrete.
JC steps away from the men, reaching for their phone to dial 911, but are interrupted by the hand that comes around their head and clamps a wet cloth over their mouth. They struggle, but their attacker is too strong for them to fight off like this. He secures JC’s body to his own with his open hand. Their throat starts to burn as they attempt to breathe through the cloth and their vision starts to tank.
Shit.
No, no-
JC struggles harder, thrashing and screaming and clawing as hard as their body will allow them. Unfortunately, they get a little weaker with every breath in. Their knees wobble in their attacker’s grasp, and they finally go limp.
They cling to the very edges of consciousness as they’re dropped to the ground. They’re wrists and ankles are bound tightly together, and they can feel themself be lifted into the air an moved. A car door closes, slammed shut once they’re loaded into the back seat of what is probably the truck that had pulled up.
JC finally succumbs to the burning, vaguely sweet tasting darkness as the truck starts up.
—
JC slowly resurfaces from the sticky darkness that is their mind. Their head throbs, spinning and spinning, tipping and turning and flipping around. They feel sick. Sick like that uncomfortable bubbly feeling they get when they’re going to throw up.
Everything comes rushing back when they realize that they’re in a moving vehicle, their limbs bound. The rope rubs their skin raw as they squirm. The ankle that had been injured by the car hurts especially bad, rocketing pain up JC’s leg.
Fuck.
Nicole was right. They should’ve listened to her, taken her more seriously.
Fuck.
Tears prick their eyes, guilt and anger flooding through them. Anger at themself for not trusting their girlfriend, guilt for how she’ll react when she realizes that they’re missing. JC wonders how Bob will react. The fury on her face when they’d all realized that Cyrus had been captured some months ago flashes through their mind.
“Ah shit. He’s waking up again,” a gruff voice says. There’s the sound of someone fussing with the glove box and something glass, and then a sharp pinch on the side of JC’s neck. A horse whimper escapes them as they’re plunged back down into darkness.
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A serial CaFae Latte fanfic I'm writing<3 I have no schedule so I update whenever I update. If you enjoy it, you can ask me to tag you when I do update. The full thing will be uploaded to my Ao3 whenever it's done if you'd rather wait, lol
The later chapters get more OC heavy, but we closely follow our beloved crew through the story.
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if you haven’t, i hope you fall in love with life again. i hope you wake up with a happy sigh, hope you feel like doing things you enjoy, hope you are surrounded by people who make you feel safe, hope you smile at yourself in the mirror.
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How to Write a Character Who Feels Like Throwing Up
When fear, dread, or guilt gets sickening—literally—your character is consumed with a gut-clenching feeling that something is very, very wrong. Here's how to write that emotion using more than the classic "bile rose to the back of their throat".
Start with the Stomach
This isn’t just about discomfort. It’s about a complete rebellion happening inside their body.
Their stomach twists like a knot that keeps pulling tighter
A cold sweat beads on their neck, their palms, their spine
Their insides feel sludgy, like everything they’ve eaten is suddenly unwelcome
They double over, not from pain, but because sitting still feels impossible
Add Sensory Overload
Vomiting isn’t just a stomach reaction—it’s the whole body.
Their mouth goes dry, and then too wet
Their jaw tightens, trying to contain it
A sudden heat blooms in their chest and face, overwhelming
The back of their throat burns—not bile, but the threat of it
Breathing becomes a conscious effort: in, out, shallow, sharp
Emotional Triggers
Nausea doesn’t always need a physical cause. Tie it to emotion for more impact:
Fear: The kind that’s silent and wide-eyed. They’re frozen, too sick to speak.
Guilt: Their hands are cold, but their face is flushed. Every memory plays like a film reel behind their eyes.
Shock: Something just snapped inside. Their body registered it before their brain did.
Ground It in Action
Don’t just describe the nausea—show them reacting to it.
They press a fist to their mouth, pretending it’s a cough
Their knees weaken, and they lean on a wall, pretending it’s just fatigue
They excuse themselves quietly, then collapse in a bathroom stall
They swallow, again and again, like that’ll keep everything down
Let the Consequences Linger
Even if they don’t actually throw up, the aftermath sticks.
A sour taste that won’t leave their mouth.
A pulsing headache
A body that feels hollowed out, shaky, untrustworthy
The shame of nearly losing control in front of someone else
Let Them Be Human
A character feeling like vomiting is vulnerable. It's real. It’s raw. It means they’re overwhelmed in a way they can’t hide. And that makes them relatable. You don’t need melodrama—you need truth. Capture that moment where the world spins, and they don’t know if it’s panic or flu or fear, but all they want is to get out of their own body for a second.
Don't just write the bile. Write the breakdown.
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How to Write a Character Who Feels Like Throwing Up
When fear, dread, or guilt gets sickening—literally—your character is consumed with a gut-clenching feeling that something is very, very wrong. Here's how to write that emotion using more than the classic "bile rose to the back of their throat".
Start with the Stomach
This isn’t just about discomfort. It’s about a complete rebellion happening inside their body.
Their stomach twists like a knot that keeps pulling tighter
A cold sweat beads on their neck, their palms, their spine
Their insides feel sludgy, like everything they’ve eaten is suddenly unwelcome
They double over, not from pain, but because sitting still feels impossible
Add Sensory Overload
Vomiting isn’t just a stomach reaction—it’s the whole body.
Their mouth goes dry, and then too wet
Their jaw tightens, trying to contain it
A sudden heat blooms in their chest and face, overwhelming
The back of their throat burns—not bile, but the threat of it
Breathing becomes a conscious effort: in, out, shallow, sharp
Emotional Triggers
Nausea doesn’t always need a physical cause. Tie it to emotion for more impact:
Fear: The kind that’s silent and wide-eyed. They’re frozen, too sick to speak.
Guilt: Their hands are cold, but their face is flushed. Every memory plays like a film reel behind their eyes.
Shock: Something just snapped inside. Their body registered it before their brain did.
Ground It in Action
Don’t just describe the nausea—show them reacting to it.
They press a fist to their mouth, pretending it’s a cough
Their knees weaken, and they lean on a wall, pretending it’s just fatigue
They excuse themselves quietly, then collapse in a bathroom stall
They swallow, again and again, like that’ll keep everything down
Let the Consequences Linger
Even if they don’t actually throw up, the aftermath sticks.
A sour taste that won’t leave their mouth.
A pulsing headache
A body that feels hollowed out, shaky, untrustworthy
The shame of nearly losing control in front of someone else
Let Them Be Human
A character feeling like vomiting is vulnerable. It's real. It’s raw. It means they’re overwhelmed in a way they can’t hide. And that makes them relatable. You don’t need melodrama—you need truth. Capture that moment where the world spins, and they don’t know if it’s panic or flu or fear, but all they want is to get out of their own body for a second.
Don't just write the bile. Write the breakdown.
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parallel play (liking and reblogging your mutual's posts but not talking to them)
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no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.
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Physical Contact Masterpost
Hand-Holding Dialogue
Hand-Holding
Touching
Hugs
Hugging Dialogue
Touch Starved Prompts
Touches Ask Games
Super soft intimacy
Casual Affections
Seeking out physical affection
Romantic, non-sexual intimacy prompts
Kisses
First Kisses
First Kiss Prompts
Accidental Kisses
Places for kissing
Angsty Kisses
If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰
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Writing Tips
Punctuating Dialogue
✧
➸ “This is a sentence.”
➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.
➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”
➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”
➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”
➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”
➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.
“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.
“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”
➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”
➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”
However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!
➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.
If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)
➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“
“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.
➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.
➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”
➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.
“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”
➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.
“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”
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i think you should die
I'm sorry, I am now dedicating my life to making you wait as long as possible
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The ringing of the phone is what snaps Violet from her trance in the kitchen, the device vibrating impatiently on the kitchen table while she dries her hands. The number isn’t one she recognizes, but she answers just to be safe.
Cyrus hasn’t returned to the apartment yet, as he was supposed to be home two hours ago after his shift at the café. Violet really hopes he’s just been caught-up in traffic or in conversation with one of his friends. She can’t shake the sinking feeling that has created itself a place in her gut since he was kidnapped by the mob.
“Hello?” she says into the phone as she meanders around the kitchen. “Who’s this?”
“We have your son,” comes the voice from the other side of the line. Violet has known her ward for long enough to recognize his voice whether he tries to manually disguise it or not. She can even hear the near giggle in his tone.
A little smile comes to her face as it click that he’d referred to himself as her son. “My condolences. Please try to die quickly, his dinner’s almost ready,” Violet responds, tapping the metal neck of the spoon against the rim of the pot currently boiling the noodles for their dinner.
“I know how much he enjoys pasta and would hate for him to miss it,” she teases. Violet would know better than anyone how easy it is to coax the younger fae with the promise of food. She ponders if she should scold him for trying to scare her like that once the phone connection clicks off and she waits for Cyrus to return home.
She’s almost ready to plate the dinner when the sound of large wings drifts in through the cracked window. A small smile comes to her face as she can trace Cyrus as he runs through the apartment building, thundering footsteps echoing through the halls, the staircase, and then finally skirting to a stop outside their shared apartment.
“Oh, you made it. I was getting very worried there for a moment,” Violet hums, unable to hide her smile. “You would not believe the phone call I just got.” Cyrus slides into his seat at the table, panting heavily. His face flushes with shame and embarrassment as he catches her side-eye, but he hides it well enough.
"We have your son."
"My condolences. Please try to die quickly, his dinner's almost ready."
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