#but I gotta finish something unrelated and then story time!!!

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

(Hey just gonna call myself a shy theorist to differentiate from the other anons)

So based on what we currently know of Pep's possible past and the newly added content warnings, here's my theory. (That might as well be it's own story. I did not realize that I would write this much. Feel free to idk screen shot or copy this ask and put it under a read more)

So, Bruno, he's an anxious Italian man who runs his own pizzeria with his spouse. He's pretty content with life, his business is doing okay and he's in a pretty good relationship. Life was good.

Then came Pizza Head.

So Pizza Head comes and he goes on about striking a deal or whatever to get the place for himself. Bruno refuses, it's their passion. It's both of their dreams to own and run a pizzeria. They would never do it.

Pizza Head (to everyones surprise) leaves.

And for a while nothing much happens, except one day his spouse goes missing.

He's just straight up panicking, there's no note, no anything. Why would they leave him?

Days, weeks, maybe even months pass, but even after the authorities are called and he's spent many long hours searching, he couldn't find them.

His thoughts at that point are... well let's just say they're not exactly good. Part of him blames himself for it. The other part suspects Pizza Head, but it's not like he can find him.

His pizzeria is pretty much in shambles, he hasn't been taking care of himself, and he's... close to giving up.

So perfect time for Pizza Head to come right back.

He makes a different deal. Tells Bruno that he knows where his spouse is and would lead him exactly to where they are only if Bruno gives him his pizzeria.

He agrees.

He goes to this strange tower with him. Up an elevator. To find... an exact replica of his pizzeria in this tower?

At that point he's uneasy, but still reluctantly follows him into the pizzeria.

He sees their silhouette and runs to them.

Only to realize a bit too late that he's been tricked. Lied to.

They've been dead this whole time.

And he's too shocked with grief to realize what happens next.

Pizza Head kills him.

...

Well, he can't say it wasn't worth it. The business was pretty good while it lasted, but there's competition.

Some other Italian guy opened up a place close to his tower.

And maybe you're asking why he doesn't just do the same thing? Maybe even just kill the guy, no giant lazer required.

Look, doing the same thing to this guy would be pretty boring.

So he decides to have some fun.

Besides, he needs a use for that body and that whole pizzeria in the fourth floor.

They surprisingly have a lot in common. Maybe he can play around with that.

Good thing most of his body's intact.

(So yeah Pizza Head makes a copy of Peppino using Bruno's body as a base of sorts, which explains the memories and stuff)

(So Pep is mostly Bruno's body with a mix of different animals' DNA, mostly because he kinda ran out of stuff and had to substitute a bit.)

(Everything else in his brain was taught to him, the backwards speech is there mostly as a precaution because if the clone somehow has the original's memories then he'll be in huge trouble, so making him unable to be understood would keep him from telling, plus the added bonus of backwards speech being creepy in general helps in making him even scarier.)

(Oough, that's so sad!!! Loosing everything he's got and then some!!!

Once again, I do not confirm or deny anything, but oh boy, you guys are so talented with these!!

Sorry I don't have much to add or doodles this time, but thank you for sharing!!!)

[irkimatsu]

I hope The con is still going well for you! You can answer this when you get back if that's easiest for you (Go have your fun!!) I'm back with another albeit much less horny request. Maybe it's that I need Keith David to lull me to sleep, maybe it's that I know deep in my heart of hearts that Husk had a Frank Sinatra Vinyl collection in his life, who knows. But I wanna see something cute and fluffy with Husk and music, maybe like Dancing around his room to My Funny Valentine, or Somethin' Stupid. Just cheesy fluff for his❤️

I'm so sorry for how long this took, but I want you to know that this prompt has been consuming my brain ever since I first saw it. I've never heard "Somethin' Stupid" before, so I went and looked it up, and oh my god I love that song for Husk. I just had to write something! Here's some fluff with Husk singing to Reader, there's dancing and confessions and god he's so cute I love him so much~

(If you've never heard the song before, I recommend you listen along once Husk starts singing it! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_t2gNCXYbY)

You may not be sure of the specifics of Husk’s feelings for you, but however deep they go, you’re grateful for the time he spends with you.

On this evening, the two of you retreated to his bedroom after dinner, to have a drink and some conversation before it’s time for him to open the bar again. You don’t often join him here, but you’ve never for an instant suspected his intentions whenever he invites you. You’re sure that he simply enjoys having one-on-one time with someone without having to worry about others asking him to serve them drinks, and that’s all.

Would you mind if his intentions ever went further than that? You try not to think about that too hard, for fear that your hopes won’t align with his.

For now, you’re happy to sit and chat with him, sipping the sweetly sour red wine he’s poured and listening to the record he’s chosen to play. He seems to have a story for every song on the record, from concerts he’s attended all over the world, to the inspirations for his own performances, to unrelated memories he just happens to associate with the playing songs for reasons even he’s not sure of.

You love every story he has to tell, but your interest is most piqued whenever he speaks of his days in various bands. You may not know what he looked like when he was alive, but you can still see him so clearly on a brightly lit Vegas stage, fingers gliding over the saxophone that he describes with just as much wistful passion that he would use for a past lover. You can see him lowering the saxophone from his lips to start singing, all irritated gravel drained from his voice as it flows through the air, warm like honey, deep timbre filling an emptiness in your gut that you didn’t realize was there before now.

“I’d love to hear you sing more,” you say as he finishes another story about his life as a performer, clearly fond of the days he spent on a stage. “You’ve got a great voice.”

“More?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow. “When have you ever heard me singing at all?”

“You sing all the time when you’re working behind the bar,” you say. “I don’t even think you notice it.”

Husk coughs slightly on the sip he was taking of his wine, but manages to swallow it down with no further incident. “Shit… you’re right, half the time I don’t notice. Cleaning glasses is just so damn tedious, you know? I gotta pass time somehow, and if I’ve got a song stuck in my head I just-”

“You don’t need to explain,” you interrupt. “With a voice like yours, you can sing any time you want. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to hear it… I know I like hearing it.”

Husk hums thoughtfully as he takes another sip of wine. Is it just you, or are his cheeks faintly flushing from your compliment? Maybe you’re hoping for too much.

After draining his glass and gently setting it back on the table, he lifts himself up from his chair with a grunt. Without explaining himself, he heads to the box of records by the record player and starts flipping through them.

“I could… sing right now, if you want,” he offers, not looking up from the box. “I don’t get to perform much for other people anymore.”

“I’d like that,” you say as you try not to read too much into the gesture. Husk singing to you… for you… you’re sure it doesn’t mean anything and that he’s just showing off, and yet…

“Ah, here we go,” he says as he lifts a sleeve from the box. With great care, he removes the currently playing record and slips it into its own sleeve, then withdraws the new record and settles it in place. After he lowers the needle, gentle guitar strings begin emanating from the player. A few seconds into the song, he begins to sing, and you realize that there are no vocals on the record; the only voice you hear is his.

“I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend the evening with me…”

As he sings, he approaches you, feet stepping and tail swishing in rhythm with the song. He stops in front of you, and as the next line begins, he holds his paw out to you with a small smile.

“And if we go some place to dance, I know that there’s a chance you won’t be leaving with me…”

“Who says that I wouldn’t?” you say as you take his hand. He chuckles softly as he pulls you to your feet and resumes singing.

“Then afterwards, we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two…”

As he sings, he takes your other hand and holds both of them at chest level, his palms pressed against yours, firm claws and silky fur holding your hands in place.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’...”

Your heart gives a single heavy beat at those words. You can’t read too much into it, shouldn’t read too much into it- it’s not his song, he’s singing it but he didn’t write it-

But then why did he choose this song to sing for you-

Before you can spend too much time worrying about it, his claws begin skimming down your bare arms.

“I can see it in your eyes that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before…”

They trail up to where your shirt sleeves begin, then take their rest on your shoulders.

“And though it’s just a line to you, for me, it’s true, and never seemed so right before…”

Where are you supposed to put your own hands now? You end up settling them on his hips, and his wings lightly flutter in response, his expression glowing at your touch.

“I practice every day to find some clever lines to say, to make the meaning come true…”

Either one of you could pull the other closer and close the agonizing inches-wide gap between you, but you, at least, can’t find the nerve to make that move. You settle for swaying with him, allowing him to set the pace as he sings.

“But then I think I’ll wait until the evening gets late and I’m alone with you…”

Has he always been this handsome? You may have acknowledged your attraction to him months ago, but in that moment, you see him in an even brighter light than you ever have before. His golden irises shimmer as he stares at you with lidded eyes, his pupils blown wide; he hasn’t taken his gaze off you since the moment he took your hand. His mouth is curved into a small smile, and his sharp fangs do nothing to demean just how soft his expression is as he sings to you.

“The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and oh, the night’s so blue…”

He shifts his arms so that they’re under your own, palms rested on your back, and finally takes the chance to pull you closer, your chest flush with his.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’...”

You slide your hands from his hips to the small of his back so you can pull him closer in turn, your waists now touching.. He gasps slightly, his smile gone in favor of a look of surprise, and he stops singing. Did you distract him?

“Sorry, I-”

“Shh,” he says simply before returning to silence, swaying you in time with the music. Has the room always been this warm? No, it’s not the room- it’s him, now pressed closer to you than you ever thought possible. The smile’s returned to his features now, his gaze boring so deeply into you that no force in Hell could draw it away. He’s wearing the same cologne he always does, a woody scent that blends so right with the scents of whiskey and tobacco that always cling to his fur. You’ve always associated that scent with Husk, and standing here surrounded by that fragrance is where you’ve belonged for such a long time but never had a chance to be before now.

“The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and oh, the night’s so blue…”

He’s finally started singing again, his voice wavering more than it had the last time he sang that line. You probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t busy tuning every one of your senses into him to the exclusion of all else.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’...”

His breathing is slightly heavier, and you could swear you see a tear beginning to form in the corner of his eye.

“I love you… I love you…”

“I love you,” you respond in tandem with him, and before you can think, you’re pressing your mouth to his. The kiss is so fleeting, giving you barely enough time to savor the softness of his lips or the taste of wine on his breath. His eyes are wide open as you withdraw, still unable to pull away from you.

“I love you,” he sings one more time as the music fades, and follows it with a kiss of his own. His mouth is so gentle against yours as he turns his head to slot your lips together. He doesn’t move his mouth, content enough with the simple contact, though his claws do slightly grip at your shirt. His hot breaths ease into your mouth in a steady rhythm, neither of you moving an inch. Another instrumental has begun to play from the gramophone, but Husk shows no interest in singing along to it. You’re okay with that; as much as you love his voice, him continuing to sing would mean him breaking the kiss.

He makes a surprised, cattish noise as you comb your fingers through the fur on his cheeks and pull him in more firmly, but makes no move to break away from you. Warmth, scent, softness, taste; every one of your senses pleads so desperately for this moment to never end, to be permitted to indulge in him for the rest of your afterlife.

But eventually, he finally withdraws, much too soon for your heart’s liking but at a great relief to your lungs. He laughs nervously as he jerks back out of your grasp, lifting his paws off of you and drawing them closer to himself, out of your reach.

“Sorry,” he says, still trying to laugh. “Got carried away-”

You silence him by grabbing his cheeks and kissing him again, this one much more brief.

“Don’t apologize,” you say before kissing him once more. He still keeps his hands to himself, but he allows himself to enjoy the kiss for as long as you’re willing to give it.

“...I picked that song for a reason,” he admits when you finally break the kiss. “I’ve been… wanting to say something for a while.” He lifts a paw and gently caresses your cheek. “It’s just… been so long, you know? Since I’ve been with somebody. And usually when I’m with somebody, it…” He averts his eyes from you, his ears slightly drooped in shame. “...I’m not easy to handle. Never was, and I’m especially not now.” He laughs derisively. “So it really is stupid of me to think I should say I… well…” He trails off, apparently unable to get the words out when he can’t hide them in a performance.

“You should say stupid things more often,” you assure him as you wrap your arms around his neck and peck him on the nose. “I said it back, didn’t I?”

“You sure you know what you’re getting into?” Husk asks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he laughs. The energy between the two of you is electrifying, you’re so sure he’s about to kiss you again-

Instead, he yelps in pain and jerks away from you.

“Husk?! Are you okay?!”

“It wasn’t you,” he assures you as he gently rubs at his throat. Despite the gentle tone he’s trying to use with you, you can tell by the way his ears have flattened that he’s pissed. “Just time for me to reopen the bar, that’s all.” His volume lowers as he grumbles to himself. “Someone’s gonna throw a fit if he doesn’t get his fuckin’ rye…”

“I wish we could have spent more time together,” you say. “You could have sang more… and we never finished the wine…”

“How about we pick this up later, after the bar’s closed for the night?” he says. “I wouldn’t mind having you up here more often.” He’s smiling again; it’s not a large one, but it seems you’re able to get his mind off his stressors, if only for a moment.

“It’s a date,” you say, returning his smile. You share a final kiss, much too short for your liking, and let him get back to his work.

You wonder what other “stupid” things he’ll have to tell you later.

[valorxdrive]

Gotta speak my truth.

A reason why the passion has dwindled on this blog, why I've sought other avenues. It hasn't really been the drought of content as much as the issue in what's already here. In short, it's the new angle of SQ's direction with the KH series that leaves me uncertain.

It all begins with a game called KH3, moreso, how it really feels like it was a title that didn't care about itself in terms of a grand finale or the fans who wanted a solid conclusion before a new chapter.

I genuinely dislike it with a whole lot of my heart.

I'll dip into why down below! Stick around for the ride if ya like.

I've sat here across the years genuinely contemplating it. Seeing people heavily defend it (myself too at one point), though who abhorred it for seeing things sooner (or just took it too far.) Had discussion with friends and it truly clicked to me what bothered me so much with the KH3 title.

It genuinely does not give a fuck. In a bizarre way, this is the first time I've seen a video game, even with it's complicated history that's just so utterly prepared to be finished with itself.

What struck me the most about this is how done it was with dealing with Xehanort as an antagonist. Bringing no connection with him to the worlds, or to the main cast, how he was simply relegated to the hurdle that had to be surpassed. This in kind extends to the heroes dealing with him too, that remains connected. So that brings the question, what did warrant all of their attention?

Verum Rex and Union X. Two aspects which are vividly 'new'-, the more exciting, new grounds to no longer have to bring concerns with the current epic that was being made.

The way these things were shoo'd in at the expense of the characters and the wonder of the KH world really miffs me. So much of the actual effort was made in turning KH3 into a springboard FOR these concepts, the new beginning and it allows for the keyblade war to be entrenched in a piss poor execution.

Another aspect I'd love to really dive on, being a Sora blog, is Sora's particular journey. This holds a firm eye towards the Disney worlds and mixing it with the cast of characters in there, and the KH originals. You can entirely omit the Disney journey and have literally nothing change. From the moment you hop from Yen Sid's tower, to the moment you go and save Aqua, this part of the game from the story perspective is entirely pointless. To those who care about the story. To those who CARE about disney 1 for 1's (like singing Let it go in new graphics fml), who are more concerned about the shiny new Verum Rex (vs XIII reboot) or the perspective of the Union X things, it'd be a fine enough meal.

I want to actually dig into why however. It's a simple angle, they don't care about his current goals in lieu of bringing shiny new worlds in akin to jingling car keys. The goal of finding a means to bring Roxas back, and in order to draw back the Power of Waking that found itself lost in DDD.

Both of these don't require external adventures. It needs insight, it needs the retracting of old grounds, and I'm damn sure that the perspective of Disney was not going to allow for that. So on this front unless a heavy push was warranted, I genuinely wouldn't of seen it changing. How are you going to find clues for Roxas in Arendelle for example?

Unless Sora has more Heart related ventures after each world, what in the fuck was this roaming going to do to unlock the power of waking again? A journey to find something important in KH is usually coupled by heavy character development, a way they come to re-look at how they see the surrounding world, their situation and themselves. The fact that a completely unrelated situation from Sora, despite his caring nature was the trigger to unlocking this.

For Ventus's disembodied heart to say it was always there was a pitchfork through the heart of this.

The fact that they've always said that recovering this power was essential for saving Aqua, when you literally can hop in and kick her butt, prompt no connection of ripping corruption away or anything via the Power of Waking says more than enough. You genuinely see that by the end of a lot of main cast characters being nods to the audience, or bots made for exposition, they've outright abandoned these concepts before your eyes.

I genuinely could continue on but this has become bloated.

For the journey for the current cast, the premise of KH3 is perfect as an adventure and inevitable showdown, but the execution is atrocious (the raw lack of opposing parties facing each other, showcasing the threat of Xehanort set to end all reality), and would genuinely require an entire game overhaul. Again, the execution. This extends to so much of the story decisions, to a LOT of the gameplay (whole dif can of worms) on top of that. I've really needed to recognize this and really have my genuinely lens set on it, no other opinions diluting my opinion on the matter.

I can understand why people who KH3 has the laughing stock/joke of the series.

Recognizing this has felt refreshing to me. It gives me a more distinct image that down the line, I really don't mind taking a canon divergent perspective at all. The mythos of KH and so much it has built is a fever dream of the best proportions, I however, genuinely want to carry on that I tenderly love which has always been the try and true flame of this series. I won't let nostalgia blind me, nor the ~future excitement~ either.

My nostalgia and my value as a fan is worth something to me. Nomura and co genuinely have to begin cooking again for me to gamble in that corner again.

[spaceumbredoggos]

Had a nap. Considering leaking a potential ending for Aces and Oh’s. It’s really sad and dark, and it contains main character as a ghost. I’m toying with this potential plot line that I came up with whilst napping. I read something on Pinterest about killing the main character right in the middle of the story. Kenz might not survive Aces and Oh’s.

Also, Aces and Oh’s will have POV switches from Kenz and their two triplet siblings like how the pov switches in Warrior cats. I might poll whether or not to kill Kenz right smack dab in the middle of the story. Might not and leave it up to the fic to decide. I like to leak things, but it might be a bad idea to leak the ending. Might leak some other things in Ace’s and Oh’s like journal excerpts—

JUST START WORKING ON THE FUCKING PROLOGUE ALREADY!!!!

Bill. Bill. Bill. Bill. Bill.

No. No no no no no. Bad Bill. (Sprays him with a squirt bottle.) You know better than to rush authors.

WHY WONT YOU GO TO COLLEGE AND STUDY QUANTUM MECHANICS INSTEAD OF WASTING YOUR TIME TRYING TO BE INTERNET FAMOUS ON YOUR NOT EVEN THAT POPULAR BLOG?

First off, no one would even fund a pandimensional portal. Secondly, I am an artist. I made that dedication to that side of me the moment I started burning out with math during the pandemic in ninth grade. And finally, we both know how much I love telling stories.

MORE LIKE START TELLING A STORY WITH WAY TOO MUCH FILLER AND NEVER END YOUR STORY.

Okay. I get it. This time will be different. I will write with at least one ending in mind. Ending things is my weakness.

YOU’RE PLANNING ON KILLING OFF MY HENCHMANIACS!!!!

I gotta have Kenz win at something. Now stop leaking spoilers.

HOW WILL YOUR FAMILY FEEL ABOUT THE SKITS YOU MAKE ON TIKTOK ABOUT HOW YOUR FATHER ABUSED YOU?!!! HOW THE SCHOOL SYSTEM FAILED YOU?!!!

That’s unrelated. It was their choice whether or not to look at my profile. They chose not to speak with me as soon as I moved out only to meander onto my TikTok. It’s embarrassing enough that they found it.

YOU WOULDNT HAVE ALL THIS BOREDOM IF YOU—

I’m not gonna let you finish that.

WHY?!

Because you’re a petty bitch who can’t find someone else to build your stupid portal.

BUT YOU LOVE—

Shut up you insect.

FUCK YOU!!!!

Im gonna go play skylanders and cry every time one dies.

WASTE YOUR LIFE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES FOR ALL I CARE!!! YOU’LL NEVER AMOUNT TO SOMETHING GREAT!!!

Tell me something my dad hasn’t told me.

[cuubism]

If you don't mind me asking - what do you think Dream's attitude/reaction towards Tolkien's works (including the legendarium!) would be? (I'm asking a lot of Sandman bloggers this, because I'm extremely curious regarding your takes on this.)

oh! hang on i gotta brush up on my tolkien because i haven't actually read any of the books since like. 2011.

i guess my main thought would be about how dream missed like, 95% of his work when he was stuck in his Jar. my understanding (read: google search) is that tolkien was building up the mythology for his stories before 1916 (when dream was captured), but most of it was not finished/published until a while after.

(this became an insane and mostly unrelated rant i am so so sorry)

i think a lot about how much of his own... area of work and power dream missed when he was trapped. the 20th century, generally speaking, was a time of rapid growth in storytelling methods and media more generally. dream missed almost all of radio, particularly radio as it became a medium for stories. radio was invented in the late 1890s but didn't see a proper rise into a storytelling medium, rather than mainly a direct communication one, until around the 30s. so dream missed the creation and growth of the first, i guess you would call it, networked storytelling, and technological storytelling, and what was... probably? the biggest return to an auditory type of storytelling since the original oral tradition, folk tales, great epics etc, for radio at its peak of cultural relevance (at least in the US and probably the ""West"" more generally, alas i can't speak as knowledgeably for other parts of the world, obviously plenty of other parts of the world had radio in the early 20th century and onward, but i don't know much about its use as a fictional storytelling medium versus for news and government broadcasts. something to look into! part of why radio became such a medium in the usa was because of our rampant capitalism and commercialism lol, so less capitalistic places might have approached it differently - here, advertisers wanted to figure out a way to monetize radio better, but obviously people aren't going to just listen to hours of ads, so they packaged them around stories, live music performances, and variety shows. that's where soap operas as a form come from -- they were originally sponsored by soap companies! also serials, though of course books have also been serialized in the past. and sponsored radio programs also birthed the sort of episodic comedies that eventually evolved into the half hour TV comedies we know today)

which also means - as a direct result of missing radio, dream also missed the rise of television as a medium - it grew directly out of radio, even the big networks we know today, CBS, NBC, and ABC were originally radio networks. television has ended up being a huge change in visual storytelling, not only in its inception, but especially in its more recent years - it's probably the only long-form audiovisual storytelling medium, which is something that didn't really exist before. huge shift in storytelling possibilities. he also missed the development of comic books, and the internet, and the resulting increased accessibility of art and storytelling to both artists and art lovers. he missed an absolutely huge, HUGE shift in the democratization of art and the ability to share it. and, once again, the development of totally new methods of storytelling in the form of internet video! not to even mention the accessibility of MUSIC, music recording and sharing was still in its infancy when dream was imprisoned and now you can get, and make, and share pretty much any music imaginable! and the new genres! and the intermediality of everything and the cross-cultural awareness!

this is not even getting into the new ease of photography, or film, which was also relatively new in 1916. imagine going into a coma when there were only silent films, and waking up to everyone and their mother making tiktoks. the last film you saw was one of chaplin's or something and then you come back and see interstellar in imax 3d. i think i'd explode. (dream would love film, too, it's very dreamlike)

dream returning to the waking world in 2022 and immediately having the entirety of tiktok beamed directly into his head:

(another thing i think about a lot but won't get into because i'm already rambling - hob witnessing the entire development of accessible writing from the printing press to fucking social media. insanity. i want to pick his brain on it

what pushed hob over the edge, do you think. what's the one thing he saw written online that briefly made him regret ever getting involved in printing at all and wish everyone was illiterate again. it was not porn, btw, mr. monsterfucker gadling can handle anything, ok. no, it was something much worse...)

anyway. rambling over. this is all to say that i am not a tolkien expert and haven't read much of his stuff anywhere recently - though i was quite obsessed with it in middle/high school - so my main thought is in relation to dream getting cut off from all of these great stories. it must have been like, to put it flippantly, your favorite tv show getting cancelled halfway through after a cliffhanger XD. he has all these stories from great storytellers - tolkien included - storytellers who are building their whole own worlds in his realm, storytellers he's nurturing and supporting in his own way - and gets ripped away from them. and when he returns, they're all gone.

here's hoping someone who knows more about tolkien can give you an answer more specifically relevant to that. that's all i got for now 😂

[mossyscavern]

Morbidity in the best way

_______________________

It’s a normal night in mount Todd.

Benny’s asleep, Caleb is elsewhere while Tim, Tom and Lilian listened to Sam’s stories of when he was alive, they honestly enjoy these stories better than Travis Burton’s ‘monster hunt’ stories.

“What happened then?” Lilian asked.

“Oh my dad had to do chores for the next three weeks after that. It’s what he gets for trying to steal home made arepas from mi abuela.” Sam shrugs finishing up the story of when his dad tried to put the blame on him.

He remembers how offended his abuela looked when Sam’s dad pointed at him, then he got hit with her cane 20 times that day.

“Any questions?” Sam asked, crossing his legs. “Did your dad get any injuries?” Lilian asked. “Not really, abuela maybe fierce but she knows when to hold back.” Sam told them leaning back.

“How long does it take to make the… erapes.?” Tom wondered, making Sam chuckle at the pronunciation. “It’s arepas, the full name’s a tongue twister.”

Sam corrected. “It normally takes 20 to 30 minutes, mi abuela normally makes sure the arepas are crispy on the outside and tender on the inside.”

“… great now I’m hungry.” Tom complained, pouting as the three laugh at his assumption. “Your fault for asking about food.” Tim says before getting punched in the shoulder. Making the comedic twin chuckle.

“I don’t blame him, I ask food questions too.” Sam defended, stretching his legs out. “Ok, ok I’ve got an unrelated question if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine, go ahead.” Tim smirked at that, the perfect opportunity. “How does one hide a body?”

“Timas weaver that is not funny!” Tom yelled, not impressed with the question. “What? Seems like a good question.” “It isn’t and you know it-.”

“It depends.” Sam says suddenly. The three weavers stare at Sam with an arched brow, confused. “Depends… what?” Tim asked, curious as to why he said that.

“It depends where you are, what materials you’re working with, the time of day and how much knowledge you have.“ Sam answers. “How so?” Tom wonders, curious where this conversation’s gotta go.

“If you live in the city chances are low, one wrong move and you’re caught, if it’s in the middle of nowhere chances are really high especially with buzzards. If it’s in the suburbs or the countryside it’s easier if you know what you’re doing.”

Sam says, then realises another key info he missed. “There are many methods of hiding a body but the most effective nowadays is planting an endangered tree that way you can get away with it without proof.”

Sam answers proudly, all that info really paid off. The twins on the other hand looked shocked.. possibly horrified at the information Sam provided. “You… have many morbid thoughts don’t you?” Tom asked.

“Todos los dias.” Sam says, smirking at Tim’s lack of a proper response. “So you can use nature to hide bodies?” A voice asked, the twins turned and saw Lilian, staring up at Sam with full curiosity.

“Very much so and since there are carnivorous insects and animals, it’s practically free food, heck! Some butterflies are attracted to the flesh.”

“Oooo, does different species matter?” Lilian asked again. “Sometimes it’s a yes and sometimes it’s a no, nature is a fascinating thing.”

Sam smiles at that. While the two redheads talk about the morbid things as such both twins stared at each other and blink. “You did this.” Tom said with a deadpanned expression.

“Says the twin who reads horror without getting any nightmares.”

“… fair point, but at least I admit it.”

“Ok, we agree on something.”

_______________________

I said I’d do make morbid Sam story some day and I delivered!

… I just wanted to write Sam about being a hidden morbid kid, mostly cause… yes? And… I thought it would be fun to write..? Ok in all honesty, I just wanna write Sam being the morbid one.

[nerves-nebula]

being suicidal is pretty funny sometimes. pretty much everyone in my family who doesn't die of cancer dies by suicide. got all my matrilineal grandmas for the past like 200 years, plus mom's dad, an uncle, a cousin on my dad's side, etc. mom's tried before. people in my family love to kill themselves it's like our one uniting pastime transcending all politics and opinions. me n my siblings all have that mental illness mental hospital patient swag too but i got on meds that work seven years ago and i've been golden since. written a bunch of fiction about characters dealing with generational curses and suicidality and chronic pain and grief. have had people tell me that those stories saved them and/or gave them strength at extremely dark times in their lives.

which is awesome except now my immune system has started trying to kill me, i guess as a punishment for not ending things when i was 15. which is making me suicidal for the first time in ages. but this time it's for extremely reasonable reasons of, like, 'you can only lose so much of your brain function and ability to move and capacity for pain before it's just simple logic to die about it.' got an OC i project alla that on so i can write it when i can write, which is hit-or-miss due to the aforementioned brain function stuff, but it's like. NOW if i kill myself everyone who was helped by my writing is gonna think it was all a lie and that life really is hopeless bc if i couldn't escape the generational curse then why should they, and it's just. like. no guys i SWEAR i meant it and still do mean it. it's still relevant for you. i am just dying for reasons that are completely unrelated. chill out

anyway i'm not allowed to die by suicide OR by autoimmune disease because i too have been forbidden by my life partners, & it would actually ruin their lives if i did, so i'm not in danger or anything. most of the time i'm very well-adjusted and coping excellently. and i hope you're taking care of yourself as well. it's just like DAMN. i really gotta fight EVERY GODDAMN DAY for the next SIXTY YEARS?? EVERY GODDAMN DAY?? AM I NOT ALLOWED ONE FUCKING BREAK,

man that sucks ASS. i mean. it's like kind of funny that your entire family lineage appears to be fucking cursed. but in a "god that sucks" kind of way not a "haha" way.

NOW if i kill myself everyone who was helped by my writing is gonna think it was all a lie and that life really is hopeless bc if i couldn't escape the generational curse then why should they, and it's just. like. no guys i SWEAR i meant it and still do mean it. it's still relevant for you. i am just dying for reasons that are completely unrelated. chill out

anyway i'm not allowed to die by suicide OR by autoimmune disease because i too have been forbidden by my life partners, & it would actually ruin their lives if i did, so i'm not in danger or anything.

these are hella fuckin relatable. the main reasons i cant kms are

girlfriend would be so sad :(

it means i wasted ppls money sending me to college

if i kms then who will finish my comics???? who will talk casually about incest on this damn webbed site???

i often describe it as less of wanting to kms and more like i want a break from life. like a nice coma or something. or the ability to skip over periods of time. UNFORTUNATELY i must SUFFER to LIVE. SAD oh well guess I'll embrace the good and bad the world has to offer, as if I have a CHOICE!!

[axvwriter]

Random Update Ramble

Bah, I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus. Feel like I can’t quite come back until I catch up on everything I missed.

So I’m still hiatusing? Still on a hiatus I guess. I got to make Bobo’s birthday card stuff. At least the birthday jacket. (I also want to find a new style for drawing humans where I’m not hating the process and anatomy of humans the entire time.)

But for now, I have a question for how to go about spelling something. I have a nickname Bobo has for one of her parents basically based from said parent repeating the word “you” whenever speaking to baby Bobo due to being overwhelmed by how adorable Bobo’s parent found her.

So Bobo basically calls that parent “you-you”, but I don’t want to spell it like that. What would be a good way to spell that nickname?

“Yuyu”? “Ueue”?

Anyway, unrelated rambling below

I feel like I’m nearly at the right spot with meds but otherwise I still gotta look at Artrage for its tos in regard to downloading its apps to multiple computers. I vaguely recall it being basically only to one computer, so I want to recheck that to see if it clarifies for when a user gets a new computer or has access to multiple or whatever.

I should probably keep going with the version I have until it can’t work anymore then upgrade since Artrage doesn’t give announcements to when it’ll be bringing out a new version. I feel like they could bring out a new version soon as it looks like they have a rough pattern of every four years and it’s near that mark.

I would like to go with a free program but the ui of artrage is so simply nice and I feel like I have other things to be picking small fights over than trying to find an ui that doesn’t overwhelm me. I don’t feel like I use all that artrage provides to justify its price tag which annoys me, but again I just don’t want to deal with trying a bunch of different programs. Though I will have to when I want to animate, but I’ll continue to push that off for now.

A part of me is worried of my current version dying and thus being unable to grab the files to continue them. So I haven’t been drawing partly because of that. I also need to check if I can transfer files to newer versions or if I’m going to need to complete them first.

I meant to check that like a month ago, but I’ve been working to find a better medicine so I’ve had a stretch of not wanting to deal with anything.

Worried I won’t get Bobo’s birthday twst card done this month. I want to at least write canon event (canon as in her story, not some canon twst thing) of her seeing her idol for the first time which I don’t remember the name.

I still have some stuff to finish designing before I make the introductory post about the Mycelind Kingdom, such as lizard designs, goat designs, and maybe more creatures… heck I need to make a list for that.

Also curse that my mind wanting to post something because I’m failing to sleep but I don’t have anything really to post.

[pokemonlunarregion]

A little extra about the Lunar region. (Something while I work on finishing up for the next post.)

Why did I pick eternal night? I love the moon and night hence the whole region.

What started this region? I started it when a mix of things happened. I drew line art for my first regional form which was Delcatty and Skitty. I didn't know what to do with them at first. I even left them not colored for awhile. While watching pokemon content I saw people making their own regions. While at first being hesitant knowing how much work it'd be I decided to do it. Here I am now.

Do you plan to finish this region? Yes. I really do plan on finishing it. It might not be very quickly done but it'll get done.

Will this turn into a video game or webcomic? Likely not. I don't have the skills to do so. Not to mention the money to pay someone to make it into a game. Plus I haven't finalized parts of it at the time of writing. Some very important stuff is still unfinished. So there's still more development to go. BUT I am hoping to one day write a fanfiction from this region. That is a future project when I've gotten it all done. More so the towns, maps, and characters. Thinking about finishing that up then releasing new regional pokemon as I please. It will be known when that story will be shared. Might make it chapter to chapter based depending on how things go.

Is this your only project? No. I write all sorts of stories for fanfiction websites for different fandoms. I also love doing art which has different art pieces for different things. I even have some unrelated pokemon drawings like paradox forms of pokemon that have been sitting around. I work on multiple projects at once.

Why is the posting a bit all over the place? I'm sorry about this. I just get busy in my day to day life and don't always have time to post. I am thinking about setting up a posting schedule which might make me feel a bit better, as well as really get this region moving along. The posting schedule is still in the works as I gotta decide what will work for me and my schedule. I will update you all when I get a more proper posting schedule ready.

Why do you pick the pokemon you do? Honestly I started with some pokemon I liked only to try to push myself towards other pokemon. I am expanding past the pokemon I like. Especially since I need some typings and I'm going to run out of pokemon I think are awesome haha. Other than that I tend to go based off of a type I can make them or if I get a vision on how to draw them. I had to especially expand to get certain types in along with the types that are already there. I keep making a list of how many pokemon of each types there are only to end up keep losing it. I'll get a list that I don't lose eventually.

Will there be a creator face reveal? Not likely. I don't feel like this has taken off on the internet for me to do such a thing. I don't plan to cancel it if it doesn't get too much attention. It's fun to do this especially at my own pace. So it still plans to keep on going. Perhaps if the story ends up taking off with this blog doing so too then I might.

[watanabes-cum-dump]

An unnecessarily long essay/rant abt the Nier raids in ffxiv bc I feel cheated lol

The ffxiv Nier alliance raid series is such a letdown because the raids themselves are SO fucking good. Oh my god. As a Nier Automata fan there was just so much cool stuff. I haven't touched Replicant or the Drakenguard series, but man everything was so cool. All the references were top notch. No notes I ADORE the Nier raids as pieces of content.

HOWEVER

The story is so ass I'm sorry 🤮Like I physically do not have the strength to continue after unlocking Tower at Paradigm's breach.

I wouldn't have minded Konogg and Anogg being the main perspective characters if the whole thing was just written better. As it stands I don't think I cared about them at all until like the third act of the story where I started to get worried for them. Like they were occasionally funny but other than that they don't really have the most compelling anything, really. At least, it's not compelling until said third act. I'm not gonna say that everything peaked at the third act- I think a lot of stuff was just kinda lost by then- but the third act tries to pull at your heartstrings and it just feels like such an undeserved moment. It's such a last ditch effort to get the player to care about them and it kinda worked? But also, too little too late.

I think coming at Nier's sci fi elements from the angle of a fantasy world that's still largely stuck in a more archaic age was the right move so obviously the main perspective characters couldn't be androids. But I just wish the androids were actually in it more? And like explained their presence? And actually had more weight to their presence overall???

I feel like if I didn't like Automata so much I wouldn't have gone as far as I did. There is definitely something to be said about how differently Automata structures it's story compared to ffxiv, but I don't think it would really be a crime to lean towards one of them. Automata is much more vague and it often doesn't show you the full picture and I think that's what they tried to do but it fell flat just because the story felt like it didn't have a message or theme. It felt largely aimless and like that's fine sometimes for ffxiv- but raid quests in ffxiv always have something.

Like the Crystal tower raids were a delight and brought insight into the Allagan empire + set up Shadowbringers. The Bahamut raids kind of give Alisaie something to do during ARR and serves as a direct link to FFXIV's failed 1.0 launch. The Alexander raids... are mid lmao but I do think the themes of time and cycles was neat and fits really well into the wider narrative of ffxiv. The Omega raids were amazing development for Cid and I am ALWAYS a sucker for stuff about machines becoming human. Also Alpha is just the best. My point is; yeah, ffxiv raid stories aren't always the BEST but they at least have something to say. The Nier raids are literally just the raids and then the cool fashion WHICH I APPRECIATE thank you. I swear the 2B bottoms gave your character's ass extra polygons. (unrelated but not really, I heard the Heavensward Alliance raids r really fun but I keep putting them off for some reason lmao. Soon, trust. I finished Shadowbringers way too quickly I gotta find shit to do)

So yeah I guess that's just my beef with the YoRha Dark Apocalypse storyline. It's just so nothing. Automata and ffxiv are two games with amazing (albeit very different) writing. Both of them with profound themes and messages- and you'd think a crossover event between these two would have some semblance of a story but no <3 We can't have anything in this fucking house.

Sorry I am just kinda disappointed in this because when I saw 9S in the copied factory as a boss I thought this was going to be some cool dark Nier Automata timeline where 9S has already lost 2B- but no. And yk maybe I wouldn't have minded if I was proven wrong if the story actually utilized the Nier Automata universe at all.

(gonna get into mad spoiler territory for both games here oop-)

Like I think what could have been really interesting is WoL teaming up with the YoRha androids as they both battle the truth of everything. WoL and 9S have both fought for gods that were really just one huge lie. The revelation that Hydaelyn is a primal in Shadowbringers is such an insane thing to find out at this point in the story. I guess it would kinda require one to go into the post ShB content more but still my point still stands. WoL finds out the goddess that has made them everything they are is no different than the things routinely poses a threat to their world, and 9S finds out that humanity- his "god"- has been extinct for thousands of years. Idk I'm just spit balling ideas here. It's really a shame because obviously Shadowbringers is fucking peak, but the Eden raids were also so good. Like we could have had three for three but I feel like they kinda just half assed the Nier story.

Anyways

If I'm feeling cute I might rewrite the entire YoRHa x FFXIV storyline.

(This is a lie I have started drafting it already. Which is not the best thing for me to do bc I already have my major project/hyperfixation in the form of Hellbound and my last crossover fic got rlly popular and then I just kinda abandoned it so... yeah I don't have the greatest track record when it comes to these things. If I feel really ambitious I might make it a whole machinima thing but I shudder to think abt the editing that would take tbh. But likeeee I have lotsa ideas because I think Nier and FFXIV's themes would mesh rlly well together. Also it already has a title bc of course it does. It's YoRHa: Neo Fantasy. Yeah yeah it's cheesy whatever let me live.)

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I've Never Known (Chapter 70)

Losing Oursleves

Hey guys! I don't think you were expecting regular updates from me, but it's been over a year and I can't quite believe it. A lot has changed (I'm a married woman now!) and this year has gone so fast. But I'm determined to finish this story. So here's a new chapter (a naughty one hehe). I'm thinking there's only one or maybe two chapters to go :) it's all planned out, just gotta write it!

(All chapters tagged as #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

A number of weeks had passed since everybody went their separate ways. Arthur and I had made it to the remote and desolate wilderness of New Austin. We moved from place to place each day, always out in the middle of nowhere, sleeping with the armadillos and the iguanas, and even on one occasion coming face to face with a panther. That was a moment during which I'd caught myself beginning to miss the days of living in a camp with a dozen other people, always someone on guard to protect from not only human intruders but also those from nature. 

Waking up to a panther sniffing at the wagon and making off with a day's worth of freshly hunted goat meat was exactly the push we needed to find a better arrangement for storing our meat overnight. We were lucky, the animal didn't seem all that interested in us, only casting a glance at us when it realised we were watching it, frozen on our bed rolls, Arthur with his gun trained on the thing and ready to shoot. He would've done so if it hadn't immediately ran away, and we realised it was probably a youngster. Had it been an adult, it might have preferred its dinner warm and still with a pulse. Yes, we were very lucky indeed. 

Life in the desert certainly wasn't fun. I think I preferred the muggy, soggy swamp, alligators and all. But maybe I was biased, touched with some kind of nostalgia for my childhood, which made those gloomy conditions seem somewhat comforting. Especially in comparison to the sharp and unwelcome atmosphere I tended to get from the desert, sharp in very much a physical sense as well as metaphorical; everything was sharp. From the unrelenting brightness of the sun which assaulted my eyes, to the scratch of the cacti each time I unknowingly brushed up against one or found a stray needle in my bedroll. 

But then there was the evenings, when the sun was setting and the temperature dropped, and the sounds of the place came alive. Insects chirping all around from every direction, birds of all sizes and kinds flying overhead, calling out to one another as they prepared to find a spot to roost for the night, and the quiet whistle of the wind whipping through the dry grass and across the arid land. There was something, dare I say, peaceful about it.

There was definitely a love-hate relationship between the desert and I. I hadn't spent much time there at all in my life; I'd visited a few times as a child – my mother had cousins living nearby, though all since long dead – and of course I had been in Blackwater when my brother passed. I never liked it much as a child, and that didn't change much as I aged. But now? The desert became paired with a new association. One of freedom. Of course, I still couldn't say I enjoyed being there, but I enjoyed being away from everything the East had put us through. It felt like a fresh beginning. 

So, Arthur and I spent our days in the wilderness, staying mostly out of the way of other people. Most days we didn't see another soul besides the animals, and those certainly felt more abundant than they had anywhere else. However, I figured it felt so just because there were less places for them to hide. 

When I did see other people, it was when I headed into Armadillo to visit the store, where I'd buy supplies for us. I didn't speak more than necessary and always kept my head down, I was alone, with Arthur needing to stay out of sight in case someone recognised him. It was the second time I went there that something caught my eye in the store. A little notice pinned to the wall by the door. It read:

FOR SALE. Seaworthy steamboat. Roomy interior with comfortable living quarters. For information ask for Pete at saloon.

It was a simple poster with a hastily yet nicely drawn sketch of a long steamboat with a raised interior section protruding from the deck. I paused on the way out of the store to inspect it, leaning in and narrowing my eyes. A flicker of interest lit up my chest and I considered things for a moment. A boat. A boat with living quarters? How convenient, I thought. Perhaps it was a ridiculous idea, and I was just influenced by my slowly building desire to get away from the desert. 

Or perhaps it was genius?

I left the store with my groceries and headed back out of the settlement of Armadillo to meet with Arthur, who was waiting by our wagon. When I arrived I loaded the things I had bought into the back of the wagon, and floated the idea out there. 

"How'd you feel about boats?" I asked. 

"Boats?" Arthur scoffed. "I think I recall telling you I'd never set foot on one again, after Blackwater, that poker job in Saint Denis, Guarma…" he laughed, snapping me back to reality. Oh yeah… I remembered his words from what seemed a lifetime ago now. Every time I set foot on a boat, at best I get wet and at worst I almost die.

"Oh, right," I nodded, tutting to myself. I climbed up onto the wagon beside Arthur, and noticed he was looking at me, waiting. 

"Why?" He eventually asked.

"It don't matter," I told him, chuckling dismissively. 

"Must've mattered a minute ago, was the first thing you said to me when you came back," he said. I shrugged my shoulders. 

"No, I just saw there's one for sale nearby. Apparently it has living quarters inside, I wondered if it would be good for us but you're right, you were never that lucky when it comes to boats," I explained. 

Arthur kept looking at me, his brow furrowed in thought. "How much?"

"It didn't say, but there's a feller named Pete apparently, frequents the saloon." 

"Hm," he grunted, before letting it go. Then we headed off, back into the empty wilderness.

–

Just a few long days later, there was an incident. One that shook us up and reminded us of just how many ears the tales of Arthur and Dutch's Boys' crimes had reached. 

We had moved further west, towards the little town of Tumbleweed. I remembered the place from my childhood, during the times I had visited family nearby; it had been a lot more substantial back then, bustling with new business and new inhabitants, it seemed it would become quite the hub of the West. But in the subsequent years, the success of Armadillo was becoming increasingly noticeable in the downfall of Tumbleweed. Businesses and people moved out, passers by rarely looked twice, what remained was a small collection of stragglers who refused to stop beating the dead horse it embodied. It was becoming a mere smudge on the map and so we figured Arthur might not be recognised there.

We both desperately needed to bathe and buy a fresh set of clothes, since the harsh days in the desert – and even less access than usual to clean water to wash them – had taken its toll on the small amount of clothes we had. So we stopped by the general store and chose from their small range of clothing and paid their up-marked prices without complaint, and without incident. The saloon seemed like our most promising hope for a place to take a bath, and so we headed there next to enquire. 

There was no bath, unfortunately. There was however a gentleman who recognised Arthur, even less fortunately. He was reasonable enough not to shout it on sight and instead waited until we were outside, heading back to the wagon. He followed us, confronted us, and shortly after was laid to rest somewhere North of Gaptooth Ridge. 

Arthur had been quiet for hours after that. He'd shot the man point blank in the chest with very little hesitation, but I could see from his tight, grim expression that lingered well into the evening that he was chewing over the guilt. I let him have his time before I mentioned it over the campfire that night.

"You okay?" I asked him, and he merely grunted. "Arthur."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say. You shouldn't have seen that, today."

"I've seen worse," I scoffed.

"But all this talk, all this crap about changing and doing the right thing from here on out. Didn't exactly last long, did it?" He rumbled, his voice almost just a vibration that reached my thudding heart before my ears.

"That's different."

"How?"

"You weren't left with much of a choice."

"You sure?" 

I sighed and rolled up onto my knees and shuffled towards him on the bedroll we were sitting side by side on, below the stars. "I'm sure. He'd have gone and told somebody and then the law would know we're out here, and we'd be up shit creek without a paddle faster than you could've pulled your pistol if you'd hesitated for a second longer."

"Or I could've paid him off, threatened him, I don't know," he grumbled, shaking his head. I put my hand on his shoulder and turned him to look at me. 

"But why take the risk?" I asked.

"So I wouldn't have to kill another innocent person," he met my eyes and they were pained. I leaned down and kissed his forehead. 

"Okay," I accepted, "but he knew who you were, what he was getting himself into when he confronted us alone. It weren't too bright of him. He could've kept his mouth shut and ran to the Sheriff. At least now we know he took it to the grave."

Arthur didn't say anything, he dropped his eyes to my chest and kept them fixed there. 

"The other day you were telling me to let go of guilt, to not beat myself up. You should take your own advice sweetheart," I told him, cupping his cheek in my hand and stroking the highest plane of his cheekbone with my thumb. He closed his eyes and softened, his lips parting just slightly. 

I pressed my lips to his and he jumped, not expecting it, but he responded quickly. His hands reached for my waist and he turned to me more, facing my body completely. He broke the kiss just for a moment, his breath sucking in quickly and sharply in realisation.

"Let's buy that boat," he whispered.

"Seriously?" I questioned, and he pulled me back to kiss me again, his hands insistently gripping my waist like he wanted something he was too afraid to ask for. I climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips 

"Seriously," he affirmed. "Might finally feel like we have a home."

"But you hate boats," I huffed a laugh.

"Not as much as I hate all this looking over our shoulders," he said.

"Right," I breathed, nodding as I kissed his forehead. He tilted his head up and connected our lips again, kissing me for a few short moments before I felt the warm press of his tongue against the seal of my lips. I eased, letting him run the wet tip along the underside of my upper lip so lightly it tickled. Then I heard a needy whine escape him, his hands squeezing hard into my hips urging me to put my full weight onto him, and I felt his desire firm between my legs. 

It'd been a while since we made love. Our circumstances had hardly been ideal for it, but I'd noticed in Arthur's demeanour that he had wanted to, in the press of his hips into my backside when we laid side by side in our bedrolls. He'd stay there for a few moments until he got hard, and then he'd roll back. I knew he wouldn't ask me for it out in the open, he wouldn't want to take the risk of anyone seeing. Our tent was buried somewhere in the wagon, an oversight during packing, and frankly we'd been too lazy to dig it out. 

I regretted that now, as he kissed me, unashamedly showing me his desire in the rough and hungry way his lips worked against mine, and the tight grip of his hands on the soft flesh of my hips. 

Suddenly, with the buildup of my own arousal reaching a precipice, I didn't care who saw. 

"Let's do it," I whispered harshly against his lips. 

"Wha- here?" He balked, hesitancy in his actions as he readied to peel himself away from me. I ground myself against him to stop him. 

"Do you wanna?" I asked.

"If someone sees–"

"No one's gonna see," I giggled, lifting my skirt and shifting it out of the way. I took his hand from my hip and guided it down, slipping it through the layers of fabric until it reached me. His fingers cascaded over the slickness, between the folds, sinking inside. He shuddered out a sigh and nipped at my jaw and my neck. 

"I wanna," he breathed, rocking his fingers inside me, closing his eyes as he imagined something else disappearing inside the warmth. 

He pushed them deeper, finding my favourite spot with practiced ease, rubbing it until my breath became laboured. 

"I missed this feeling," he told me, "you feel like heaven, I imagine."

"You imagine," I repeated, puzzled by his choice of words.

"Well I ain't got much chance of seeing the real thing, so I figure I'm getting my taste of heaven here on earth now," he chuckled, his voice a honey smooth buzz clouded with lust.

I reached between his legs too, unbuttoning his jeans and the lower part of his union suit until his stiff length sprang free, the tip already glistening, having left a wet spot on the new clothes we'd bought just that morning. I took him into my hand, coating my palm with the slick and using it to lubricate my strokes. 

Every tense muscle in his body seemed to ease at my touch, his shoulders sagging and his ministrations on me temporarily stuttering. I smirked a little, rocking my hips to bring his attention back. His eyes flashed open, cheeks flushing as his fingers restarted their dance inside me; it was short-lived, however, and he withdrew them. I was feeling deprived for less than a second before I realised they were heading for his mouth. He tasted me. 

"I'm gonna need a little more of that," he rumbled, wrapping his arms around me and rocking back, then forth; the momentum rolling him onto his knees and me onto my back. 

He flipped my skirt up and buried himself underneath, keeping my body hidden from the world so he was in a little one man tent. I laughed, dropping my head back against the bedroll, jumping and gasping when wet heat engulfed my nether regions. His tongue explored, circling my most sensitive spot before moving down, slipping just inside my entrance. I moaned quietly, my fingers clawing into the fabric of my skirt wishing they could tangle in his hair instead. 

I squirmed on the bedroll, tilting my hips and pressing against his mouth, and he encouraged my motions with a moan that vibrated through me. But it wasn't long until the emptiness felt unbearable and the desire to have him inside me was more of a need. 

And I told him so. "Arthur, I need it."

He reappeared from underneath my skirt, his lips glistening and hair tousled. 

"You need it, huh?" He repeated, his smile growing. He glanced around and pushed my skirt up when he was satisfied the coast was clear.

"I need it," I reiterated with a nod, twitching as I felt his thumbs move to my folds, parting them as he looked down to admire the view. I looked down at his cock, twitching and leaking where it jutted out from his clothes. I imagined how the round head of it would feel pressed up against my entrance, pushing forward until my body yielded, letting him in. An involuntary whine left me. 

"Now," I'd never sounded so demanding, and it caught us both by surprise.

"Yes ma'am," he chuckled, sitting back on his heels and picking my hips up, dragging me closer to him down the bedroll until my hips were raised onto his thighs. 

My hand wrapped around his length and I helped guide him, rubbing the head of it against me, revelling in the hot firmness. I savoured it as he nudged my opening, and let him press forward slowly so I felt every single inch. We sighed in unison as I took him deep, until our pelvises were flush. 

"Lord have mercy," he murmured, his face slack, almost comical. He pulled back slowly, and rocked back in quickly. It sent fireworks into my lower belly, and he repeated that slow-fast motion a number of times, the slow part becoming faster and faster until his rhythm settled into a quick one that wasn't gentle. Gentle wouldn't cut it then for either of us. 

I let my knees fall apart and he caught my legs, his palms cupping the crooks of my knees as he bounced me back and forth, his cock drilling in and out of me in a way that was so satisfying, it was like drinking a tall glass of cold water on a hot day. My eyes practically rolled back in their sockets and I moaned his name, my head dropping back on the bedroll. 

Arthur's eyes darted from between my legs, to my face, to our surroundings. He was never one to let his guard down completely and I allowed myself to let go and put my trust entirely in him. I didn't think about where we were, our vulnerable position out in the open. I just focused on the pleasure, the slick and rhythmic motion as he entered and re-entered, pressing something deep inside me. 

My hands found their way to his knees, and I held onto them for support behind my hips, squeezing my fingertips into his thighs. My touch encouraged him, he fucked harder, and the angle of my body changed. Disoriented for just a moment, my calves ended up on his shoulders, his face peeking out between them as he wrapped his arms around my legs and shifted upwards. His cock was tilted forwards, pressing the most sensitive spot inside me. His arms squeezed my thighs tightly together and it changed the nature of the pleasure, it felt even nicer this way, and I knew he'd undo me quickly.

I wondered how it would feel to have him burst inside me, filling me with what he usually painted my stomach with. I wondered if it would feel good; hot and satisfying, adding to the slick, or if I'd notice at all until he pulled out and allowed it to drip from me. I imagined him failing to stop in time, losing himself in a way that Arthur never does, and chasing his orgasm unthinkingly, spilling into me before even realising what he was doing. The mental image did things to me that surprised me and made me gaze into his face, imagining it over and over, almost willing it to happen. Now I was losing myself.

My orgasm built off of that image and I didn't try to stop it, didn't try to make things last any longer, I let it take over. I felt it, really felt it in an all-consuming way, my heart racing as I climbed to that precipice, and crying out involuntarily as I leapt off of it. My goodness, it felt good.

"I'm coming!" I gasped out, a plea for him to keep going, never stop. Arthur obliged, turning his head and pressing kisses into my inner leg, dancing his lips across my scars as I enjoyed him. 

Shortly after my come down, Arthur pulled out, rubbing his cock between my thighs with that unchanging rhythm, and released with a grunt. It was powerful, shooting past my shoulder and partially onto my face, which prompted him to pull back harshly and soil my inner thighs with the rest. I giggled in surprise. 

"Shit, I'm sorry Princess," he huffed and puffed, shakily releasing my legs down either side of him and leaning forwards, thumbing away the gift he'd bestowed upon my cheek. I caught his hand, and tongued his fingertip to clean it away. He kissed me roughly, lips pinching mine between them and pulling, sucking until they tingled. It was like he wanted to devour me. 

"It's okay," I chuckled when he let me speak.

"That was an accident, I didn't expect it to shoot that far," he apologised.

"Me neither," I smirked, cupping his face in my hands. 

"Should'a known, it's been a while," he breathed, leaning back and looking down. He tutted at the state of himself, his trousers stained by what he'd left on my thighs. "Jesus," he said, humour clear in his eyes.

"We need a place where we can do this without ruining our clothes," I noted. 

"That boat of yours got enough room?"

I laughed, "I think so."

"Perfect," he smirked.

[anotherprojectsekai-nah]

■□■□■□■□■

Varieties of Interests for Dreams unlike - DARK STEAL (Main Story) Part 9

■□■□■□■□■

When one has a desire, it comes with a dream, and within that dream is ideally a reason. It varies based on the person themselves. But what if that reason is beyond expected?

Previous Part - Next Part

...

(Local Library)

Kuro: "Ok, now to wait for the printed paper.."

Kuro: "While at it, you 2 look for any possible connections with the divorce and murder."

Aqua: "...With him?"

Kuro: "Yes, I'm going to ask the librarian for an access to any possible information disclosed and check them."

Aqua: "Right.."

Step, step, step

Aqua: "..."

Aqua: "...So, it's just the 2 of us now."

Swank: "Yup."

Aqua: "With finding connections."

Swank: "Yeah."

Aqua: "Which are you skilled in?"

Swank: "..Kind of."

Aqua: "Kind of? But didn't I hear from him that he said that you were formerly a peacekeeper?"

Swank: "I was."

Swank: "But that was because of something from the past."

Aqua: "...Well, there was that."

Swank: "What about you? You were said to be an actor."

Aqua: "Yes, I first acted in a low cost movie for supposedly a horror movie as a kid."

Aqua: "Which can also explain my way to finding the truth is to lie and search. Keep things all secretive."

Swank: "I see."

Aqua: "Though we should think on how all of those 3 things relate to each other."

Aqua: "The only connection that can be come up is that the divorce happened after the manipulated murder, aka Kiritaka Nagare's passing."

Swank: "Right, and the cause of his death was by jumping off and then getting hit by a truck."

Aqua: "Then the reason of it was by the manipulation caused by someone or something, but who or what were they?"

Aqua: "..Oh, the papers finished printing."

Swank: "Well, let's check the information and see how they relate and see the connection then."

Aqua: "Now... Who's information should we check 1st?"

Swank: "I suggest the victim's. They better have something good on this."

Aqua: "Ok, let's check Kiritaka's first."

Aqua: "Now, on these information..."

Aqua: "...Huh."

Aqua: "His birthday is December 5."

Swank: "That's around winter, isn't it? When everything becomes cold, the expenses expand in high demands."

Aqua: "..."

Swank: "What? It's true."

Aqua: "I think you mean lower than expand, but that's unrelated to the current topic."

Aqua: "Besides, when was the date that Kiritaka died?"

Swank: "I think around December 5, by what the rest of the files given to me and Kuro said."

Aqua: "December 5..."

Aqua: "That's the same day as his birthday, the same one when he died."

Swank: "So you thinking that he had a birthday party before he died?"

Aqua: "No. I'm thinking on why jump off and get killed on the exact day you were born on. School would be put on pause when around the 16th or 17th day of December."

Aqua: "Unless!..."

Swank: "It was during the school time that something happened after classes."

Aqua: "Swank, when was also the time that he die?"

Swank: "...Well I told you the date, so you gotta pay me for the time."

Aqua: "..."

Aqua: "...Excuse me?"

Swank: "I'm not telling you the time of it unless if you pay me."

Aqua: "..."

Aqua: "Why you-"

Arguing and pinching/pushing the other

Kuro: "I'm back, did you guys figure out something-"

More arguing

Kuro: "...Oi."

Swank and Aqua: "!"

Kuro: "What the hell are you 2 doing?"

Aqua: "He said I have to pay him if I want to know the time of death."

Swank: "He wouldn't pay me!"

Kuro: "...Are you kidding me."

Kuro: "Just tell me what you figured out."

Aqua: Ahem "Well, we found out about the date of death of Kiritaka was around December 5. The same day as his birthday."

Aqua: "It was before christmas aswell."

Kuro: "And with it?"

Aqua: "...I'm not sure who saw him die."

Kuro: "Great...well, I got tails on some info."

Aqua: "?"

Kuro: "Apparently, the person who wanted the divorce after their son's death was... Mari Nagare."

Swank: "So, you say that the wife was the one who did it?"

Kuro: "In a sense, yes, she was the one who wanted the divorce. Possibly by her grieving, thinking that it's the husband's fault her son died."

Kuro: "Of course, that isn't the complete reason, just a thought and possibility."

Kuro: "By the way...I see the papers are printed now."

Aqua: "Yes, they are."

Kuro: "Let's see what we have..."

Kuro: "...Hm, seems like I have a few theories."

Kuro: "One of them is the involvement."

Kuro: "Whoever were involved in the murder, including the disappearances, had to be the witnesses of Kiritaka and the murders."

Aqua: "But how? These are all just profiles."

Kuro: "Hm, wonderful for you to ask."

Kuro: " i actually decided to go through Shikimi's account and pictures, and look what I found."

Kuro: "A post of her friends. The same ones you sent to me of their profiles and information."

Aqua: "And why is it that important? What can one photo do?"

Swank: "Wait! I think I know now."

Aqua: "Huh?"

Swank: "You said that photos can come in a cause and evidence to everything, right? I think I figured something out."

Kuro: "Demonstrate then, I'll wait."

Swank: "So.. If these 5 in the photo that the girl posted are in it. Then that means their friends, right?"

Kuro: "Yes, and?"

Swank: "If that Kowase guy disappeared 1st, and then Shikimi disappeared 2nd, nothing being heard from them. Are you still listening?"

Kuro: "Yes, I am still listening."

Swank: "Ok, then that means 3 of them would remain. With the connection of the manipulated murder and the divorce all together, it would mean that..."

Kuro: "That Shikimi, Kowase, Aijiki, Kinugawa, and Nomozu were.."

Swank: "Were all at the time and date when Kiritaka jumped, meaning they were there where he jumped at!"

Kuro: "...Wait, your right!... These 5 seemed to be friends all together, and when the executive said that 2 of them went missing from the group they were in."

Aqua: "Then that means!..."

Kuro, Aqua, Swank: "The ones who manipulated Kiritaka Nagare to jump off were the bully group in Saint Spring!"

Kuro: "But wait, what about the disappearances. Who could have done them?"

Kuro: "And most importantly... Why and how did they manipulated him, and was there someone else who also witnessed it other than the bullies?..."

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

6 7 13 16 25 33 for the writers ask thing :]

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

it's gotta be the prose.... i think anyone who has either roleplayed with me or just bounced concepts back and forth with me knows that sometimes i will just start talking for like. twenty minutes. paragraphs and paragraphs of whatever nonsensical whimsical shit just comes to the top of my head. i love it i fucking love the prose and such. i have no better way of explaining it than this, but it feels like stimming inside of my head to me. it's like the mental equivalent of romping in an endless field. i just keep going and going and going ..... aaough..... 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most?

it's for sure gotta be the dead space in between keystone scenes. i first started writing drabbles and one-shots purely to convey an exact scene down to the minuscule action. but nothing beyond that. there was no context to build because my friends (the only people who ever saw it) knew all there was to know about the context already. there was no dead spaces because i was only honed on one thing. now that i'm actually writing larger pieces with multiple scenes- or feed the roses, which is in itself just. one complete story- it's gotten a lot harder to actually do. other stuff💥

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

answered over here

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

it's gotta be the tortures for me. it's where most of my writing origins come from- me in my killing and maiming era as an early middle schooler, and coping with it by tearing fictional characters apart with my bare teeth. i've gotten a lot better at writing a wider variety of things, and i'm not even especially good at writing torture anymore (honestly i don't know if i could have been considered 'good' back then, either). but either reading or writing there's just something about it that gets me hyped up beyond my usual capacity. we love to see some gorgeously written agony.

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

ALL the time, yeah. the latter half of Caught in a Tunnel was a daydream otherwise unrelated to the initial concept of experimenting with max and wig's fighting styles and how they intertwine when you add their. fucked up personalities into the mix. as aforementioned, i tend to think in specific scenes, so normally if i'm daydreaming about a scene or alternative take to something i already wrote, i've probably found some time to. actually write it, at some point.

i can confess that my most recent ieytd work, Sun on Earth, had me rotating spinoffs/continuations even before i'd finished it. since it was an experiment to see how zor and solaris get along under pressure (or, rather, how they don't get along), and since it was entirely through zor's perspective. i've been considering experimenting with an extension of the catalyst through solaris' perspective. i don't have enough ideas for it to be legitimately considering writing it yet but i do kind of want to.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

i have no clue. i hope everybody thinks i just rub my brain really hard and then words appear on the page honestly. chat check out my sick ass magic trick

[patbwaifs]

it's tuesday my dudes

i forgot to take my meds last night and this morning, so i had a headache all day, but it went away as soon as I took my meds tonight. hahhh. Just finished working out a bit too.

this is what my desktop pretty much looks like all the time (sans legal documents)

I am so so serious about creating a consistent art style so I can make visual novels. My "main goal" right now is to "rewrite" Detroit via visual novel to practice branching gameplay and also rewrite a few scenes and story lines (like Kara and Alice.) Obviously, to recreate the entire game would be nuts. The main thing is to learn how to make visual novels in general, so I'm gonna start with specific scenes and then kinda go out from there.

I also want to write a fanfiction for D:BH. I started drafting it out. The first time is never perfect but I gotta start somewhere with storytelling, and for now, I'm borrowing these characters...

But my art style is pretty obviously going in a certain direction. Ghost in the shell was one of the first anime movies I ever saw (along with Adolescence of Utena. That was definitely an experience) And while I want each of my portraits to look like they "match" I also need to remember that I can still change and vary things up. That's kinda the main reason Markus and North are not 100% complete. The point wasn't to draw a finished portrait of them but to explore and practice a style. I like to think I'll go back once I gain more skill and draw finished portraits of the main D:BH cast.

One thing I really like about using D:BH to practice my art is that there are a variety of different characters to draw, from race to age and beyond.

This styles similarities to realism do throw me off though. I keep wanting to steer into realistic proportions but since it's not my intention from the outset, things get weird fast. Thankfully, I'm a lot better about starting over, reworking sketches and concepts, than I used to be. Before, I would have been tortured to even think about starting over on Amelia's portrait, but now? I want to make a proper portrait of her, in oil pastel. Not in procreate with my illustration tools. (I haven't shown yall my oil pastel rizz yet, hee hee)

On an unrelated note

I talked a bit with my best friend about my headspace around the Decharts' streams (and positive spaces in general) but i was still in oof ouch head hurty mode so I didn't get much out, but she was like "yeah. positivity vibe exposure therapy." I did catch their stream today but it was right when I had to go to the mechanic/dealership.

and boy, is my car a piece of work. I always done knew it too!!! But I need to be more assertive about taking care of it instead of feeling like my Abba is the only one who can decide when things get replaced and when. But i need new tires last week :/

He's throwing a route tonight too. I hope it's all boring and safe.

Gah, i had something else I wanted to talk about but it's escaped me.

Doing things in general has been easier.

I worry about when school starts. I have this gnawing feeling that I need to take a full course load but I know, consciously, that if I do it will end badly.

Although I'm trying to build better self-care habits over the summer so I don't get completely blindsided again. It's just, when I get drowned in a project, it can be hard to pull myself up and do the things I know help me. Like I can't work on my project as well if I don't take the moment to take my medication. gahhhh. but in each moment is eternity, so why would i take an eternity to do something else?

I guess that's my default way of thinking. Maybe that's why things are so intense so often unless I dislodge my brain from the world.

There's something about the Decharts' streams and other thing similar that makes it hard for me to zone out/dissociate/focus on something else/some variation of that. I can't ignore it. And then it's just sensory overload. I think when i feel emotions it's sensory overload first. and then whatever the emotion is second.

I've been trying to let myself feel things about silly android game. As long as it's not guilt. I am trying not feel guilty for liking this game so much. Like what's the use in feeling weird and bad about listening to the soundtrack. gahh the blood is draining from my fingers again.

Speech therapy today went well too.

goodnight yall.

[eternal-reverie]

my brother told me corazon was mentioned in the latest one piece chapter and im not there yet but wahhhh 😭

[bluebxlle-writer]

My writing advice for new writers

masterlist. main navigation.

@bluebxlle_writer on Instagram

1. Write for yourself

This is the #1 tip I will always give to writers, so you've probably heard me say this a few times. Don't write for others, but write for yourself.

People have different tastes. There will always be some who dislike your book, and some who consider it their favorite. Lots of people hate famous books like Percy Jackson or Six Of Crows, and I'm sure you've disliked a popular book before. So instead of writing a book that others would read, start writing a book that you would read. If you end up liking your book, I can assure you that many others will too.

2. Flesh out characters

When you're excited to write a new WIP, you might delay your character building process and decide to start writing while trying to figure out the characterization on the way. I've done this a couple of times, thinking that it would speed up my writing process, but trust me, it did not. It actually slowed down my writing instead.

If you start writing your wip without at least finishing 80% of your character building process, you'll find yourself getting stuck in scenes, not knowing what your character would say or do, which is very inconvenient.

If you ever get bored of character building and really want to start writing instead, I suggest writing one-shots unrelated to your WIP. By doing this, you don't have to worry about writing your characters out of character, and its actually useful to their characterization process.

3. Experiment!

If you feel like there's something off with your writing, or you're beginning to feel that writing is a chore for you, experiment with different writing techniques. Switch up your genre, time period, plotting method, etc.

For reference, I used to be a pantser who writes plot-driven mystery stories. But now, I'm more comfortable with being a plantser who writes character-driven low fantasy stories! Basically, don't be afraid of change, because it might help you later.

4. Know your ending

In my opinion, the most important thing to consider while writing a story is your ending - not your beginning or middle. You can rewrite your beginning chapters anytime, and you can always figure out your middle chapters later, noone knows how to write the middle of a story anyway.

But if you don't know the ending of your story, you're screwed, buddy. Without knowing how your story ends, you can't write the events that build up to that ending.

You're unsure about your novel's ending at first and decided to throw in a last minute plot twist? That means you've been foreshadowing the wrong ending the whole book, and you gotta rewrite. You don't know how your characters will develop throughout the book? You won't be able to write the journey of their arc throughout the story. Hassling, right? That's why, try not to start writing your WIP without having a possible ending in mind.

5. If you write, you're valid.

Nowadays, the standards of being a writer is that you have to write a full-length novel and be traditionally published. This isn't true, not even the slightest.

You write poetry? You're a writer and valid. You're a screenwriter? Bro, look at the word. ScreenWRITER. valid. You write fanfictions? Valid, and you're not cringey. You have NO idea how much I worship fanfiction writers for writing what canon won't give us. You're writing but don't want to be published? You're still valid. As long as you write, you're valid, because that's the whole point of being a writer.

6. Don't follow every single tip

There's a reason why they're called writing tips, not rules. You're not meant to follow every single one of them, they're only meant to guide you on the way. Some will be useful, some won't, depending on yourself. So please, don't be pressured to follow every writing tip you see.