#may write something

[thepenultimateword]

Short Prompt #134

Vampires once lived in a utopic society where they ruled supreme over the weaker species: humans. However, when humans find and learn to exploit their captors’ weaknesses, they bite back. Soon vampires become an endangered species and the small group that remains must hide from the creatures they once used for food. Especially when the humans learn that vampire blood is a cure-all for most diseases including the ever-turning hand of time.

[goldden-sunrise]

ough feeling. things. soft.

[paradox-n-bedrock]

me in big fandoms: oh cool, it's so active and there's so many people to vibe with, this is amaz-

*finds my niche angle that appeals to approximately six people*

me: okay, folks, it's you and me now

[spacedace]

Yall someone on reddit made a list of reverse writing tropes as prompts and I'm losing my damn mind over them:

I want to write something for each and every one of these. I already have ideas for some of them holy shit I love these 🤣

[originalartblog]

Tiny skk adventures!

not like they're also cranky and tired and touch-starved

[bixels]

The Ryoko Kui interview's reception is such a disaster over a pretty normal (yet still flawed) interview between a non-Japanese fan and Japanese artistic. This is discourse for discourse's sake, and it's no surprise that almost every Twitter user I've looked at who's using this interview to parade Kui around as a goated mangaka standing strong against Western ideology is anti-trans.

Like, I do think the interview was kinda wonky with its focus on fandom culture, which Kui clearly didn't have much interest in. But sometimes that happens. Sometimes interactions between two people, especially a fan and a creator, two people who view and interact with a piece of media in completely opposite perspectives, don't click. Does this really need to get blown up into a "West vs. East culture war" issue.

Anyways, Kui saying "I don't consider my audience's interpretations when writing. I leave it to their imaginations, but I have my own read on things too" is the healthiest, most normal thing an artist/writer who wants a non-parasocial audience could say. Artists and writers use this line all the time. If Kui didn't enjoy autistic Laius or Farcille headcanons, she would have probably voiced/signalled her discomfort, like she did on the topic of Senshi fanservice. Overall, Kui handled the interview really well. Props to her to sticking to her guns and keeping a healthy disconnect from the fandom. While I think the interviewer could've/should've been more tactful and restrained, the flaws in their questions is not a symptom of the woke mind virus trying to wriggle its way into the pure Japanese psyche. It's the sign of an over-eager fan who sees a piece of fiction differently than its creator.

[doctorsiren]

give this angle another tri

[anna-scribbles]

chapter cards for thirteen: november - april

read on ao3

[erwinsvow]

an idea… rafe and shy reader having sex for the first time

everything's overwhelming with rafe, but this is particularly so. you thought you were completely ready for it, from the way you had handled everything else so well. in fact, rafe was the one taking things at the slowest pace possible, trying to make sure he didn’t pressure you into something you weren’t ready for.

you didn’t like it—thought he was trying to be something he’s not. he’s gentle with you but never like this, never to this extent. it must be a big deal then, sleeping with rafe, giving him your virginity, you finally decide, if he’s acting so differently about it.

in fact, you think you’ve been ready to give it up since you first started dating him. rafe brings it out of you, coaxes a different side of you out with gentle words and soft touches. you’re going mad over it. you can’t count the amount of times you’ve crawled into his lap at any given opportunity, anywhere the two of you are alone—his truck, the couch in your living room and at tannyhill, the hidden booth at the country club. you’re begging for it, not sure how much more obvious you can get.

you finally decide tonight’s the night—following a nice dinner with the two of you. you had spent extra long getting dressed up, a pretty white lingerie set on underneath your blue dress, all done up for rafe. finally back at tannyhill, entire body vibrating and tingling with excitement, you don’t wait another moment, crawling into rafe’s lap and kissing him hard. you take off your dress and rafe stops just for a second to take in how forward you’re being.

“hey,” he finally breathes against your lips, pulling away. “c’mon, you’re not ready for this.” 

“yes i am!” you whine, impatient and horny, feeling rafe get hard underneath you. you want him to be able to do all the things you know he wants to do, want them done to you. “i am, i am-” and you lean back to kiss him, ending up pinned underneath him before long.

he knows you’re not, but he plays along. you’re so wet already he doesn’t have to do much, but he makes you cum all over his fingers anyways, hoping it’ll satiate you.

“please, rafe,” you moan against his mouth, pushing in for another needy kiss. “wan’ it inside. please.” and he does know you, knows everything about you, but even he can’t resist when you say things like that.

you watch with big eyes while he lines himself up with your wet hole, hovering over you. you think you’re so ready, that three of rafe’s fingers inside you should be comparable to what you’re about to feel, that you’re more than prepared. your eyes squeeze shut when rafe pushes inside, all the air leaving your lungs. you try to moan out but it’s more of a gasp than anything else, one that rafe swallows into a kiss. 

your eyes get watery—it’s just habit. it hurts, too, because rafe is so much bigger than you expected. you bite your cheek, looking up at rafe through teary eyes and clasping a hand over your mouth—you don’t want to admit that he was right. 

“c’mon kid, give it up. y’not ready for this, i know you,” rafe says, leaning in close to your ear to whisper it quietly. he’s not even half-way inside you.

“i-i can take it,” you hiccup. you hate disappointing rafe.

and it’s not that he doesn’t want to—he does, desperately so, wants to fuck you within an inch of your sanity every time you walk into a room and look at him with your shy eyes and sweet smile. he wants to break you, wants you cumming on his dick until there’s nothing left in your head, no shyness left in your heart. but he wants it when you’re ready for it, not like this.

it only takes another minute, you finally admit you’re not ready, and rafe pulls out of you. you feel like crying, terribly sad and dejected, wishing you could just be normal for rafe for once, be what he wants. 

“stop,” he says, wiping away a stray tear. his arm rests over your stomach, trying to get you to lighten up. “when you’re ready for it, i’ll fuck you until you can’t think. s’just not today, kid.”

you finally agree when he says that, getting over it because you know without a doubt in your mind—rafe knows you better than you know yourself.

[thewhumpening-thesequel]

Whumpee silently patrols Whumper's property, a muzzle tight on their face. It itches underneath the straps but Whumpee isn't allowed to touch it. They've been stripped of their humanity, as if never human in the first place. Whumpee trotted like a well-trained dog, alert for intruders.

A thick shock collar encircles their neck, pinching the skin around the clip. Squeezing their throat like a consistent reminder of their entrapment. It took years for Whumpee to become like this, an aggressive guard dog that could be left unsupervised for weeks without any attempt to run.

Whumper would always tell they how well they did, even letting them inside for a couple of hours if they caught a trespasser. Early on, Whumpee wasn't appreciative of that. It took them being left tied to a stake in an uncovered part of the property for a whole year for them to learn that lesson.

They were not a pet, they were not an art piece, they were not meant to be loved or given luxury. Yet, Whumper would give them scratches on the top of their head, stroke their cheeks and praise them. They gave them sweets, once in a while, treated them like a thing to be cared for and not a tool.

Whumpee's feet are rough and cut up, freckles fleck their skin, and their hair bleached by the sun. Dirt clings to their skin, gravel dust colouring the ends of their limbs. Scars litter their skin like little reminders of their failures and slights.

They curl up under the house's porch, some nights. Right at the edge, so they can watch from someplace covered. Whumpee looks up at the stars. Those little lights, twinkling up in the sky, oh so free, call to them. And, yet, Whumpee knows they'll never reach the sky. They'll go with the ashy dust, settling into a random corner, trapped.

One day, there's a trespasser. However, this one seems... familiar. It bugs Whumpee but they push past it. It's not their job to think about things like that, it's their job to protect their master and their property. Whumpee growls, ignoring the person's worried and confused facial expression.

Caretaker didn't recognize Whumpee when they first saw them. It's like an animal had taken over Whumpee's body. The sounds they were making nothing short of animalistic. Caretaker stumbled back when the other lunged. Their eyes glance to the deck, where Whumper stands with a smug grin.

[dirtbagcore]

the brainrot is extreme. heres another silly doodle (ノ≧▽≦)ノΞ●~*

+ obligatory close up of the cute little faces lol

[sergle]

man, you know, nobody asked me, but I have such conflicting opinions on some of the fat falin art, where on one hand: it's always nice to see A Fat Body in fanart anywhere + it's being done in positive ways, for funsies and on the other hand, there is something so familiar about how you are automatically The Fat One if you are a woman simply standing next to a more petite woman, bc I've had a 0% hitrate in seeing people change Marcille's body type and keep Falin's, or change both of them. it's just Falin

[zorosdimples]

YUUJI X READER X CHOSO

when choso approaches yuuji with an intimate confession and a plea for help, your best friend convinces you to give his big brother a hands-on demonstration.

mdni. reader has breasts + a vagina + is called “baby” once; otherwise referred to as they/them. this is just over 1k words. i may write additional parts, but i make no promises!

Why did I agree to this?

Your back is pressed to your best friend’s broad chest, his tawny skin hot against your own. Bent at the knee, your legs are spread far apart, feet planted on the white bedsheets. A whimper escapes your bitten lips—a soft, fluttery exhale—half-embarrassment, half-excitement.

Discarded somewhere on Yuuji’s bedroom floor is your bra. You’re simply clad in a pair of cotton panties, plain white, nondescript. You wouldn’t call the undergarment sexy, but the bulge straining at the small of your back begs to differ; it sends a thrill down your spine.

Choso kneels between your open legs primly, wide palms clammy as they rest atop his knees. His eyes are smoked amethysts, unreadable as they pointedly remain on his brother, never straying to your face or your mostly nude figure.

“Look, Cho,” Yuuji entreats as his calloused touch moves upward from your thighs to your breasts. You swallow the breath that hitches in your throat, chest shuddering as two thick fingers pinch each of your nipples. “Touch them riiiight here—feels good, huh baby?”

Baby. (You’d rather drop dead than admit it, but you’ve pleasured yourself countless times to this fantasy, the image of your best friend calling you every endearment beneath the horizon in his honey-sweet voice.)

Wading through a syrupy fog of tension and want, you nod in agreement. Choso swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he replaces Yuuji’s hands with his own, gaze darting to yours. His palms are larger than his younger brother’s, his ivory fingers cool and smooth as they circle your nipples.

Earnestly you suggest: “You can look at my tits, Cho.”

Yuuji chuckles at the way the older man’s cheeks ripen and bloom from your forwardness; his hands settle on your thighs, kneading the fat as he watches his brother shift his attention. Choso focuses on your chest, at the way your breasts ripple and bounce under his careful ministrations.

For the first time since he walked into the room, Choso speaks. “Is it okay if I…” he licks his lips as he trails off.

His voice is gentle and almost monotone; you’d be offended if you couldn’t see the flush that burns the tips of his ears and bleeds down to his strong chest. (The visible strain in his black boxer briefs puts your mind at ease, too.)

“Use your mouth,” you urge him with a kind smile.

It surprises you how quickly Choso dips down, the tip of his nose brushing the swell of your breast before he sticks his tongue out and paints a swirl that ends on your nipple. At first, just the peaked nub rests between his chapped lips. But he builds confidence—or curiosity gets the better of him—and you gasp as he sucks as much breast as he can fit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. He repeats his movements on your other breast.

When he raises his head, he leans into you, stopping a hair’s breadth from your mouth, a silent plea for permission. “Now kiss me,” you murmur; Choso obliges.

It begins chastely: your lips slotting with his and guiding the pace. He jolts at the sensation when you first slide your tongue along the seam of his lips, although he catches on quickly, allowing you entry. While his hands initially rested awkwardly on the mattress, he now moves them upward, cradling your cheeks with reverence. His kisses are sloppy and unpracticed, but you both find yourselves growing heated as your fingertips map his torso, skating lower and lower until you can twirl his thick happy trail. You whimper when he shifts and accidentally grinds against you.

Yuuji interrupts your increasingly desperate make out. “Ready to see them, Cho?”

Choso pulls away, a string of spit snapping between your parting tongues. He watches as Yuuji thumbs the top of your underwear before sliding them beneath the fabric and stroking your plush hips.

“Before you remove these, you should feel our lovely guest through the fabric.” Yuuji’s breath curls against the shell of your ear; you can’t help the moan that slips out and hangs in the air. He rests his chin atop your shoulder, his next words making you clench: “I’ve got a feeling it’s soaked.”

Eyes the color of bruised plums meet yours. Three fingers brush against the top of your panties, trailing down over your clit, stopping right at your hole. “You’re so wet,” Choso states, rubbing the sodden fabric. “All of this is because of us?”

You shiver under Choso’s fervent stare. Yuuji presses a tender kiss to your shoulder as his hands move up to caress your hair. You swallow dryly; you don’t think you’ve ever been as turned on as you are right now, pinned between the brothers’ bodies and undivided attention.

“Yeah—mmm, yes,” you manage to get out.

Pleased by your response, Choso hums. He drags a fingernail up your underwear until he teases your clit, featherlight, coaxing a warble from you. Eventually, he makes his way back to the waistband. “Can I?”

You bite your lip. “Please, Cho.”

As though savoring the moment, Choso lays down on his stomach and peels the garment off, exhaling a shaky breath as your pubic hair emerges, then groaning when your entire cunt is bared. Yuuji slides a hand down your belly and peels back your vulva, desire webbing across your folds, highlighting your swollen clit.

“Oh fuck—that’s a pretty sight,” Yuuji mutters.

His brother either doesn’t hear him or ignores him entirely; Choso looks only to you. “I’m going to taste now, okay?”

“H-hold on,” Yuuji blurts out. You twist around to look at him. His amber irises blaze as he slips his middle finger down, shallowly massaging your wet hole. “I—” he pauses, “I wanna try, too.”

His eyes never leave yours as he raises the shining digit to his mouth and proceeds to greedily lap up your arousal. “Shit,” he hisses. You think you’re going to wither under the intensity of his flaming stare. But instead—he pulls you into a bruising kiss.

Before you can process the pressure of your best friend’s lips on your own, Choso licks a line from your hole to your clit, wrapping his thick arms around your thighs, and Yuuji swallows your squeal of surprise. All rational thought floats away with your impending bliss.

You still don’t know why exactly you agreed to this arrangement. But these two brothers are going to be the death of you—of that you’re certain.

[darlingboydiaz]

do y'all ever think about the fact that bobby is literally chris' grandpa? like yeah, bobby is a father figure to buck. but buck is also chris' second dad.

that's a dynamic i am reminded of whenever i see eddie and bobby interact outside of the fire station and it's a dynamic that should be explored more overall.

[so-many-ocs]

through gritted teeth: it doesn't have to be good, it just has to be written. it doesn't have to be good, it just has to be written. it doesn't have to be good

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.