#ratt’s writing

[goldenshrikecomic]

Hello! GS is one of my favorite comics right now and a huge inspiration in my own journey of working on a comic. One of the things I find the most impressive is your paneling. Visually each of them are laid out in a way that gives this great flow, it feels really natural to imagine the pages in motion.

Would it be okay to ask what your thought process is on panelling, or just general advice/thoughts on setting up/laying out pages? I hope this makes sense

When I think about page layout, my number one question is what kind of panel I want the page to end with. It shouldn't cut the conversation or motion awkwardly, and ideally it should be something that acts like a hook that makes you want to click to the next page, like here:

It's all about getting from part A to part B. Part A, you're here. Where's the part B? The cutting point, the point where the page ends, where the chapter ends, and ultimately where the story ends.

What kind of story you want to make?

What kind of plot points you want to cover in your chapter?

How much content there is in this one page, does it forward the plot, relationships, or just show a side of someone you want seen?

You can go even smaller. Is this panel important? Does it need a full background? Could these three small panels of characters talking be one big panel? It'll save you time and look nicer.

You'll get it with practice! The old first pages of my comic wasted a lot of space, sometimes they still do. Don't stuff it full but don't get too loose! Don't be afraid of small panels, reserve big ones for big moments, like mother saying goodbye to her kid, or a yellow deer meeting a god. I see many starting comicers use very few panels per page, but this is a LOT of unnecessary work that builds up versus you including more panels per page. It's all about the bubbles. Bubbles lead everything. It's the silent pages that are the hardest.

Again, this is just how I do it. I bet there's tons of different approaches that work for the right people. Hope you find what works the best for you, best of luck with your project!

[transexualbutchfagdyke]

hey so I've never been in real school or college or anything but I wanna make this fic a bit more realistic. what type of assignment would an astronomy class give out? I need a reason to force them to stargaze together

[whumpinthepot]

@febuwhump 2024

Day 19. “Please don’t”

Content: BBU adjacent pet whump, caretaker is new master, child oc mentioned? (mouse),

Thank you @ilasknives for looking it over <3

…

Ratty waited on the staircase for Mouse to come home from school. They leaned their head against the bottom of the railing poles and watched the door. They had been sitting there since Mum left this morning, and would continue to sit until someone came home. 

There was a sound of a car pulling into the driveway, then footsteps coming up to the door. Ratty perked their head up, watching as the doorknob rattled with the movement of a key. It turned and opened. 

Doug walked through it, wearing an unbuttoned suit with a loosened tie around his neck. His locks were pulled up into a bun. He was home early today, and Ratty leaned their head back against the poles in disappointment. 

“Hello, sir,” Ratty greeted half-heartedly. 

“Oh, Ryland, I didn’t see you there.” Doug sounded surprised. “Where’s your mother?” 

“She left to run some errands. Said she would be back later and to wait for Mouse to come home.” 

“I see…” Doug sat down beside Ratty on the staircase. It weirded Ratty out, and they shifted an inch away from him. He was too close to them.

Doug was staring at his hands in his lap, and kept his voice quiet. “I know you miss August, and that your mother won’t let you talk to him. I don’t think that’s right of her. I tried to talk to her about it but she, well, it might take some time for her to accept the idea.” 

Ratty didn’t know how to respond and just stared at him with distrust still clouded over them. 

He continued. “So, what I was getting at is… If you want to call him on my phone while everyone is out, you can. If you don’t tell your mother or sister.” 

Ratty blinked. “Wait. Really?!” Was this a trick? “Really, sir? Are you serious?” 

“Yeah. You can call him right now if you want.” Doug pulled out his cellphone and held it in front of Ratty. “But it can only be a small phone call for now. Is that okay? I’m sorry it can’t be longer but maybe next time.” 

“Yes, sir!” Ratty practically shouted. Their hands trembled with anticipation. Was he really going to call Auggie right now? 

“Okay then.” Doug winced and tapped in August’s number. He put it on speaker and handed the phone over. 

The phone rang a few times until a nervous voice picked up. “Um… Hello?” It was Auggie.

Ratty’s words were caught in their throat. “Hi,” they managed to croak out.

“Tee? Is that you?” August asked incredulously.  

“Yes, Auggie. Mr. Doug let me use his phone in secret. He told me not to tell Mum.” Ratty curled inwards against the phone. 

“Oh. Huh. Are you okay?” He asked.

Ratty assured him that they were more or less okay, and the two had a little back and forth of worried small talk. 

Ratty was building up to their main question until they finally dared ask. “Auggie? Can you come and get me now? I did everything you told me to. I've been good. I’ve been here for so long, when can you come and get me?” 

A pause, then he sighed. “Ratty, I can’t come and get you. You know that. You’re going to have to stay there a little longer. I’m sorry.”

Tears welled up in Ratty’s eyes, fogging their glasses. “Please don’t leave me here, Auggie. Please don’t…” 

“I’m sorry, Tee. It’s not that simple. Keep being good for them, alright? You just have to wait this out. I’ll see you as soon as I can, I promise.” 

Ratty clutched the phone with a lump in their throat as tears dripped off their chin. “Please come soon…” 

“I’ll try. I miss you.”  August’s voice gripped around Ratty’s heart. 

They gulped in some air. “I miss you too, Auggie.”

Doug waved to get Ratty’s attention, then tapped his smart watch. He put five fingers up then closed his fist. 

Ratty got the gist and sniffled. “Auggie? I have to go now. Please come soon, okay?” 

“I’ll try, Tee. I’ll try…”

—

General writing tag list: @frogkingdom @coppercoyoti @alittlewhump

Febuwhump tag list: @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @blackrosesandwhump

[marinerainbow]

Well, thanks to @wicked1will0sparkles, I must give the context for Poppy's misdemeanor arson charge XD

And no, Wheezy was miraculously not involved! This was when Poppy was still new to Downtown.

~

The rabbit clutched onto her jacket tightly, chasing the small comfort it provided her as she walked down the streets of... Her new home. Though it felt more like a wasteland, with all the intimidating looking toons, the trash and broken glass littering the streets, and the occasional yelling or gunshot that would ring out and force her to pin her ears down to try to muffle the noise for her sensitive ears.

Poppy felt tears prick in her eyes as everything started to become so overwhelming to her. Or rather, everything was about to reach a boiling point after the week. Ever since Henry...

Choking back a sob, she rubbed her eyes dry again, having to try so hard not to cry right now. Why did he do this? Why did he take everything and deserted her? Did she do something wrong? Did she not love him enough? Did he need more money? Just-

Her thoughts were interrupted when she bumped into somebody. She didn't knock them down fortunately, but how did she not see them? When the toon looked down at her, a rat looking toon with an awful smell about him, the already frightened rabbit felt her heart leap to her throat, "I-I'm s-s-sorry sir. I d-d-didn't s-see-"

"Why 'ya shakin', doll? I ain't done nothin' to you." The rat shrugged before pulling a cigarette from between his teeth. That must have been the source of the smell, "'Ya look like you've seen a ghost."

She didn't know what to say then. Or rather, her brain was racing trying to figure out which answer she should give him. Apologize again? Say she didn't see a ghost? Stay silent? It was painfully obvious that she was a fish out of water to... Well, anybody who saw her now.

While she was anxiously staring uo at him, the rat toon sighed. There was something behind his dark eyes that she couldn't quite place at the moment, "A newbie, huh? Don't worry. Y'll get the hang 'a things soon enough."

Finally, prompted by his statement, Poppy was able to speak, "N-Newbie?"

"'Yer a washed up toon, right? Can't be a bad guy. Rabbits are 'nevah the baddies. Or 'didja get lost on 'yer way home?"

Oh. He was asking if she lived here, "... Th-The first thing... I-I live here..."

"Ah." The taller toon nodded plainly before taking a drag from his cigarette, "So your cryin' is only because of the scary Downtown area, or did somethin' happen?"

The exaggerated tone wasn't lost on Poppy. But at that moment, her thoughts went back to her ex, and she looked away from the rat, trying to hide her sad eyes and quivering lip, even though he had already seen them. Somehow... She didn't know why, but she found herself nodding, "Yes... T-To both..."

She didn't expect any sympathy. If her own parents didn't offer comfort, why would a stranger on the street want to make her feel better? God, why was she wasting this man's time? He probably had better things to do. She should just go-

"Damn. Must've been pretty bad to get 'ya so worked up."

Blinking, Poppy tilted her head back up to look at the taller toon. His words weren't the most emotionally moving, but... She could see a look of pity in his eyes. Was this stranger... Or was that just her hopeful thinking? Before she could reply though, he shrugged and muttered, "What the hell..." Before reaching into his pocket. Digging around for something.

She was quiet and watched him curiously. Though she grew slightly confused when he pulled out a lighter and a partially crushed cigarette pack. She tilted her head ever so slightly as he pulled out a fag and offered it to her, "'Ere. This'll put 'ya at ease. Can't stand to see people cry."

The rabbit's eyes widened, and she was just about to reject the kind offer. But then, before the words could form on her tongue, she stopped herself and thought about it. At the studio, she lost count of how many humans she saw smoking. She had seen plenty of toons with a cigarette or two, sometimes even multiple like that blue weasel she saw the other day. She had even caught her own mother with a smoke on occasion...

Sure, they smelled awful, but that didn't necessarily mean anything, right? Like... Like soap tasted bad, but it was good to use?? It didn't really make sense, in all honesty. But with a frazzled mind and heart, she needed all the help she could get. If this nice stranger told her this would help, maybe it would.

"Th-Thank you." She replied quietly, hesitantly taking the fag and inspecting it for a brief moment, before sticking it into her mouth and holding it with her lips. It already felt strange to her, and a part of her wanted to give it back, but the rat leaned in to light it up for her before she could ponder it. So now, she had to go through with it. She sucked in as big of a breath as she could...

"HACK-" The fresh cigarette flew out of her mouth as she bowled over and started coughing and wheezing. She didn't even notice the other toon jumping to the side. Her lungs felt like they were on fire! Her nose felt clogged, the taste was overpowering, and somehow it got into her eyes!? Why the heck would anybody smoke if this was how it felt???

"Jesus christ, lady!" The rat toon exclaimed. His eyes were wide, and he placed a hand on her back as she hacked painfully, "'It's fine, c'mon now."

It felt like forever until Poppy was able to stop coughing. Her throat was dry, her chest and abdomen were aching, and tears ran down her cheeks for a very different reason now. But she managed to stand back up straight now, holding onto the rats' free arm to stabilize herself. She wiped her eyes as he patted her on the back, "There 'ya go. 'Yer ok, yeah?"

She let out a small wheeze as she opened her mouth to respond, until an even stronger stench permeated her senses. Once she looked up and saw what was happening, Poppy practically jumped out of her skin and shrieked, "FIRE!?"

Somehow, someway, by the ironic and cruel ways that toons were designed, the still lit cig had landed onto a trashcan that was behind the rat. And right now, there was a fire that was growing bigger at a ridiculous pace.

"What- SHIT!" The toons eyes popped out of his skull when he saw what was happening. With no hesitation, the rat just gathered his things, only briefly glancing at Poppy to yell, "Don't just stand there!" Before he booked it towards the other direction. Leaving Poppy shocked and horrorfied at what she had accidentally done.

"W-Wait! Somebody!?" She looked out to the street desperately, but no one even glanced towards her direction now. Other toons either kept on walking, or they ran off as soon as they saw the fire. Having no idea what else to do, Poppy just ripped her jacket off of her shoulders and started trying to put out the fire herself.

...

"Though the fire didn't go out." Poppy explained as she tugged on the cloth of her sleeve, looking embarrassed as if she was just retelling a cringy story from her high school years, "I guess it was one of those toon fires that can only be put out by water... And there was a police car passing by that saw everything... I only spent a few days in the jail cells though, before everything was sorted out. I got pretty lucky, haha... Ever since then, I've sworn off cigarettes."

Looking back at her friends, she saw all five weasels staring at her in various forms of disbelief. Even Smartass' grip on her law records loosened enough where it looked like they would fall from his hands and onto the coffee table. Her brows furrowed in confusion and slight concern as she glanced between them all, "What?"

~

I'm out of steam, so I'm just gonna end this here. One things for certain, Wheezy won't ever let Poppy touch his cigarettes XD

[themratts]

hi tumblr followers I definitely don’t have an ao3 where I definitely don’t post silly little fics about my silly oc and her silly satanic pope husband and you definitely shouldn’t check that out 😁

[elekinetic]

if karen finds out mike is gay (bc there's no way he's coming out, lets be honest with ourselves), i think she'd have the initial "oh god no that is Not Good, Not Good At All" reaction. that isn't how this is supposed to go. she isn't prepared for this, for something so....off.

nancy is the one who knocks some sense into her. she tells her mom that when it comes down to it, its an ultimatum: either get with the times, or lose your son. and karen's gonna pick mike hands down.

karen is still a little off color, but she's trying. as mike gets older he has those moments we have w our parents where its like "okay, im picking my battles." she'll make small comments she doesn't think about ("oh, that clerk as a little...mm, you know?") or make assumptions that are just, not super cool ("so will, do you cook for mike or...?"), but at the end of the day, she's making an effort. she tries to unlearn because she doesn't want to lose her son. if she shed's the homophobia along the way, so be it.

[lostlittleturret]

We’ve Made it This Far

[ Hello @actingwithportals!! It's @portal-secret-santa time! I was your secret Santa this year ;w; I'm sorry for the delay in your gift but I finally have it ready for you! I went with your Doug and Cube vibing prompt so I really hope you like it <3

The song that the turret is singing is This Far by Kina Grannis! ]

"Seems we found a good haul today..." Douglas carefully looked at each small bucket of paint, going through the colors he managed to obtain, as well as some old gel that was converted to be used as paint...most likely a batch that didn't pass inspection from years ago.

The man glanced at the companion cube by a wall of panels...its soft pink glow illuminating the dark little den they found themselves in today.

I suppose it's not too bad of a collection...and we didn't run into any trouble today either.

"At least not yet..." Doug glanced over his shoulder, looking at the small entrance to their sanctuary. "...now that GLaDOS has those turrets mobile, it is becoming more difficult to keep avoiding them.." Saying that realization out loud seemed to make him wilt a little bit.

"...it's always something, isn't it..." he mumbled, running a hand through his dirty shaggy hair, fingers getting caught on a tangle or two. He let out a sigh as he joined his friend on the ground, resting up against it. It was true...it was getting harder and harder to keep hidden now that those wrenched things had legs. Not all of them have been converted to androids just yet...but it was large enough in numbers now to be extremely concerning...and honestly, Doug wasn't sure what to do about it.

…I hear something.

That caused the man to tense, mismatched eyes shrinking a bit. He could hear whispers, but had a hard time picking through what was real and what was just a figment of his condition.

"...what direction?"

...Underneath us.

Hearing that had Doug relax slightly...at least it wasn't coming from just outside of the den. He strained his hearing...and sure enough, he could hear a faint voice. He followed it, crawling down on the ground...until he came to a small opening on the floor, a grate keeping the hole from being completely open. There, sat on weighted storage cube was a little girl...a small turret android...It was strange to see one alone and not grouped with others...this one looked weaponless as well, but it was hard to tell.

"...it's a turret... what is it doing?"

That's when he heard her small robotic voice weave within the air.

"♩ ...You know it's harder when you hold me. You get me searching for the ceiling. Love tried to forget things... It's so hard... So hard... ♫"

"...it's singing..."

Odd...it doesn't sound like the serenade the turrets usually sing... nor the song they performed for that woman..

That was true...it was a different song. But why?

"♫...So I'll keep going through the motions Creating comfort where there is none coming to terms with the notion I'll be okay... ..Okay...♩"

That could mean that the turrets are close...

"...I suppose at least one is..." He sat back up and made his way back over to the wall and his paints.

...You don't seem troubled by that fact.

"They are not aware of us..." Doug's cracked hands softly rubbed the top of his glowing companion, as if to soothe it. "For the time being, we should be alright...Just keep an eye out for them, yeah?" With that, the scientist took off his stained and paint splattered, raggedy lab coat, so carefully draping it over his friend, using the material to protect it from any stray paint splatters. Once situated, the man grabbed cans of paint and converted gels, popping open the lids. His worn hands then grabbed old, abused paint brushes, setting them up before staring at the panel in front of him...a blank canvas...just waiting for inspiration to be spilt upon it...

...What to paint today?...

The murmurs resting in the back of his mind tried to feed into his paranoia, almost having him want to do one of his typical paintings, to vent out not only frustrations, but the worries and fear that rested deep within him, the hopelessness that wanted to spill out of him in waves. He dipped his brush, hovering it over the panel, about to begin to feed into that dreadful feeling, using it to fuel his movements...

...but his hand remained hovering over his canvas...

...he could still hear the turret singing.. the words were soft, almost innocent sounding...

"♩ When rain falls down on me, so hard the winds unravelling me, don't start  An ocean swallowing up my heart,  But I've made it this far... ...I've made it this far...♫"

It sounded child-like.. almost...lonely...

Slowly, the paint brush made contact with the wall...a stroke of a dark midnight color about midway up the panel...then another.

What are you painting today?

"...Something a little...different."

Different? How so?

"...Do you remember seeing the sky when we first escaped?"

Ah yes. It had the blinding light within it.

"Yes, the sun. That is what the sky looks like during the day time..." the thick brush did another swipe of the dark color as he began to form a sky. "...but there is another time where the sky is dark...littered with thousands of little balls of gas...glowing bright from millions of miles away...stars. That time is night time...."

Night time? The Cube began to glow a bit brighter, almost as if a curious child itself. Sounds fascinating. It's a shame that we cannot see it.

"...I wouldn't rule out the possibility we will one day see it."

...do you truly believe we can make it out of this place? She's back online...and the test subject you saved is no longer even in the facility. The Central Core already released her. And with her turrets always on the move...How do you think it will be even remotely possible for us to escape as well?

The brush paused its movements...as that little voice was heard, continuing its lonely song.

" ♫ It's hard to see a happy ending when you don't see how you can mend things but life is long and forgiving...  And it goes on and on and on..♩"

...the bristles struck down again on the textured wall, and continued on its path.

"♩ When rain falls down on me, so hard  the winds unravelling me, don't start  an ocean swallowing up my heart  But I've made it this far...♫"

...the night sky was soon painted, Doug not giving a response to his companion's question. The glow of the cube seemed to have dampened to have its question ignored.

"♫ And I'll keep wishing on a bright star that we’ll keep drawing all the right cards And I'll keep singing when it goes dark... cause I've made it this far... I've made it this far..♩"

Grey mismatched eyes followed the movement of his brush, each stroke of color having a meaning, a purpose...a symphony of hues...the melody, the darker tones...the harmony, the lighter...small dots of white across a midnight sky...darkened fields of wheat, flooded with the light of the moon above...and from a small pink hue across it's stalks.

"♩ ...I've made it this far.....♫"

At the quiet end of the soft robotic voice, Doug lowered his brush...and despite himself, a small smile actually made it to his lips. He dropped his brush in muddy colored water before standing and stretching out his now sore limbs...this art therapy session was a good one...one of his better ones in a long time...to think, a song from this facility got him to actually almost relax...not completely relax, not in this place...but it allowed him to go into his meditative state as each stroke was meticulous and purposeful as the last.

A grunt escaped him as he sat back down beside the cube, wiping his paint covered hands on the material of his lab coat. "...what do you think?"

...you were right. This is different from your normal paintings.

"...is that a bad thing?"

No. Not necessarily...just not used to something with a positive outcome.

"...You know...if you keep thinking about the positive little hopes you keep within your mind, despite knowing it may as well just be lies, just unattainable goals...it could come true...and actually happen. If there's something I've learned in my life, it's to expect the unexpected...and never truly believe the existence that our minds can create and manipulate..." those striking grey eyes stared up at the ceiling, as if he could see those flickering stars above him. "....I really think we will escape one day."

Truly?

"...yeah...I think so." That faint smile grew. "I guess at this point, it doesn't hurt in believing in that hope. We have nothing to lose." He hesitated...then quietly added.

"...We've made it this far..."

He allowed his mind to wonder, pondering on possible outcomes. "...Think we'll come across her once we breathe fresh air once more?"

...I believe so. It's not impossible.

"Yeah...I think that would be nice..." They observed the painting in the now silent area...only the hum of the facility heard...the constant current that flowed through the circuits, keeping the facility alive. After a moment, Doug stood once more, grabbing his coat and putting it back on. "We should keep moving."

Should we take the paints with us?

"...No, let's keep them here...who knows, we may return to this area...seems like a good place to continue this painting, wouldn't you agree?"

A soft little tune was faintly heard, escaping his friend as the room lit up in a brighter pink tone. Doug hummed, satisfied with that response. Soon, the cube was once again on his back and, with one last glance at his recent art piece, he dunked under a low hanging panel and continued forward..

...leaving behind a painting depicting him and the cube, resting out in the wheat fields, under the night sky, brightened by the moon...

...wishing on the falling stars from the sky above.

[he-goes-down]

😦Hi, this my first time posting on Tumblr 💀 I'm really new but not new to fanfic writing I've been doing that on that god forsaken orange app. BUT HERE IS MY INTRO!

My name is Sebastian and I love music, most older music but I'll listen to everything I get recommended;

My top 4 bands are: Queen, Guns 'n Roses, Greta Van Fleet and Nine Inch Nails

I also love alot of other bands! And I love sci fi films and shows🍍

Whoever come across this page can request anything including 18+ stuff and ask me anything , and I'm always happy to make new friends and take in music recs!!♡

(My username is sampled by the Mötley Crüe song "She Goes Down")

[michellegflye]

Poem: Echoes in a Fangirl Heart

Poem: Echoes in a Fangirl Heart

Confession time. I am and always have been a fangirl. It has taken various forms over time. Some things have stuck, others have worn off, and some have…grown. For instance, my current obsession with K-Pop has expanded from one or two groups and styles to multiple. As long as I don’t understand more than half of what they say, I’m in. (LOL, it’s not really based on the language, but you get my…

[queer-coded-camaro-driver]

Info About the 80's As Provided By My Dad, Who Graduated High School in 1987:

No boxers, no briefs, ONLY tighty-whiteys.

The Satanic Panic was something discussed primarily by adults to try and sway more voters toward Reagan.

EVERYONE had their ears pierced. Men, women, everyone. My Dad still wears his little diamond stud sometimes.

Crop tops and tube socks were a popular combo for high school and college guys.

Long hair was masculine and having decent hygiene was a big deal.

You took a girl to the roller rink on the first date to show off and then to the drive-in on the second date if she wanted to make out.

Here are some good metal bands to include in your fics: Judas Priest, Queensryche, Slayer, Ozzy, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Saxon, Scorpions, Ratt, Quiet Riot, Joan Jett, Pat Benetar, and Alice Cooper.

Vinyl cost between $1 and $4 on average.

Minimum wage was around $3.50.

Jorts for men. Good fuckin' lord the cutoff jorts for men...

The stoners knew everyone and everything.

If you're writing a fic or making art and have any questions for Mark about your Historical Accuracy, please feel free to send me an ask and I'll text him.

He thinks this is fun.

[thissortofsorcery]

Billy’s one loud asshole.

He’s always making one kind of noise or another, always moving, either blaring his music, or singing, or dancing, or just. Talking to the damn TV.

For Steve, who’s used to drifting through his empty house like he’s haunting it, Billy’s noise is a beautiful thing.

Billy’s just— alive. Warm and bright and thrumming with energy, spinning through the room like a shooting star, leaving sparks on Steve’s skin every time they touch.

Steve leaves the light on in every room in the house so he feels less alone, Billy lights every room he occupies like the morning sun streaming through the windows.

And when he laughs, it’s. It’s like fire crackling in the fireplace, warm and intimate and feeling like home. Every time.

Billy doesn’t seem to know that, though.

For all his enthusiasm, sometimes he’ll catch Steve watching and just— stop. His smile dims, and he looks down, and he shuffles in place, just a little, before he puts on a big smile, a little too sharp, and changes tracks.

He saunters close to Steve, puts his hands on Steve’s hips, cages him in against the counter.

“You like what you see, pretty boy?” His voice is like rolling thunder, coming from deep in his chest to reach into Steve’s and wrap his heart in a fist.

“You know I do,” Steve matches his tone, leans in closer to wrap his arms around Billy’s waist.

Billy nudges his nose against Steve’s, teasing him with an almost kiss, a brush of lips. It’s why he doesn’t see it coming when Steve dips him, arms secure around him, and plants a big, exaggerated kiss on his mouth.

“Mwah!”

“What- Steve, what the hell?” Billy’s laughing again, a musical, bright sound, and that’s all Steve wanted to see.

“You tell me, sunshine, what’s it look like?”

Steve turns the volume of the radio back up, gets the music bouncing off the kitchen tiles. With one hand still grasped in Billy’s, he puts a hand on his waist and pulls him into a slow dance.

“Steve, we can’t slow dance to Ratt,” Billy complains, but the smile on his face is big and beautiful, teeth glinting, tongue peeking out. They shuffle side to side slowly, completely off-sync with the song.

“I don’t know man, looks like we’re doing it,” Steve says, and it gets Billy laughing again. Steve watches his head tilt back, his lips stretch, plump and wide, his throat bob with joy. “But we can dance faster if you want!”

Without warning, he spins Billy away, making him slide on his socks, and on the spin back he catches himself on Steve’s chest, still snickering.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Steve says, placing his hands back on Billy’s waist. “I just really like you.”

And as much as Billy’s answering grin is sharp and sexy, the pink on his cheeks is telling.

“How much do you like me?”

“Hm… I like you more than I like basketball.”

“Basketball?” Billy raises his eyebrows. “I’m not feeling the love there…”

“I do! I like you more than the Beamer,” Steve says, and Billy looks interested. “I like you more than hairspray!”

Billy gasps, “Not hairspray!”

“I do!” Steve half-yells, both of them caught in fits of giggles. “I do. I really like you,” He adds more softly, just to watch Billy turn pink again. He cups his cheek in his hand just to feel how warm it is.

“You’re a sap, Harrington,” Billy says, but his voice is low and intimate, crackling fire in the hearth.

Steve shrugs. Doesn’t deny it.

He kisses Billy instead, takes a sip of all that warmth, takes it between his lips, lets it burn him to his core.

It’s like Steve’s been sleeping this whole time, and Billy’s the dawn that woke him up. Beautiful, blinding, burning. The least Steve can do is stoke his fire.

-

every time anti bullshit shows up on my dash, I write Steve loving on Billy | VI

[transexualbutchfagdyke]

barely edited but here's my poem btw. it's about fighting your eating disorder through doing drugs. ok 2 rb

[whumpinthepot]

@febuwhump 2024

Day 24. “I’m doing this because I care about you”

Content: Pet whump, BBU adjacent, fear of punishment, caretaker is new master, family dynamics,

—

The ride home was eerily quiet despite Ratty’s sniffling. They looked out the window at the passing houses, away from the woman who had taken them. They had promised Auggie that they wouldn’t fight her, and to listen to her, but they didn’t promise they wouldn’t be difficult for her. The car was too hot, and the seat belt clung to Ratty’s chest much like the restraints at the Pet Facility.

“Are you going to be silent the whole ride home?” The woman’s voice was sharp in Ratty’s ears. Her slim hands clutched the steering wheel and she only glanced at Ratty, then back to the road.

Ratty flinched, and their training pulled an answer from their lips against their will. “I would rather that, ma’am. I don’t much want to talk to you.” Ratty silently cursed themself out for even speaking, and dug their nails into their palms, ready for a blow to the head.

The woman’s mouth stretched into a thin line but she never struck them. Instead, she reasoned. “I know you’re angry with me, Ryland, but I’m doing this because I care about you. You need to be with your family where you’re safe while you recover.”

“I’m not sick… ma’am.” Ratty felt a tug of annoyance, and dared to side eye this woman. They didn’t believe her at all, and if it wasn’t for their promise they would have been long gone by now. The thought of jumping out of a moving vehicle was not lost on them.

“No honey, I know. You’ve been through a lot. We all have. I know it’ll be an adjustment but you have to trust me. It won’t be as bad as you think.” She spouted more nonsense and Ratty grit their teeth in refusal to respond to it, even with the training pulling at them to be polite.

They expected punishment once they got to her house, but they didn’t care. If this was the only way they could lash out, they would keep it up.

They were angry at her, sure, but they were even more angry at Auggie for giving them away. Ratty really believed that he wanted them. He made them believe that.

What a fool they were…

—

Thank you @ilasknives for looking this piece over for me <3

Febuwhump tag list: @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @blackrosesandwhump

General writing tag list: @frogkingdom @coppercoyoti @alittlewhump

[marinerainbow]

If my research is correct, it was around the early 40's that burlesque clubs started declining in popularity. I imagine in Toontown they may have stuck around longer since burlesque was more than just naked dancers; they involved humor and slapstick in their plays, which would be right up a toons alley (again, IF my research is correct).

I like to imagine that Shiny's club was probably one of the places that stayed open longer. But they still don't have much business by the events of the movie. The employees do what they can to lure patrons in, but it hasn't done much. Shiny sees this, and she knows she needs a new job soon, even though she doesn't want to give up her dance career.

Terry, one of the patrons that keeps coming in and a buddy of Shiny's, told her a story about how his cousin got into selling moonshine and got in a lot of trouble for it. Despite the fact that this was more of a cautionary tale, it got the wheels in Shiny's head turning. It's not like she has a clean record, she's pretty good at misdirection, and it'd give her something to do at home. Why not give it a go? It's just alcohol. What could go wrong?

Tldr; Peoples' lack of interest in burlesque and Terry is the reason Shiny got into making and selling moonshine.

[misslavenderlady]

Once Upon a December 🖤

David/Crysta (OC)

Summary: Crysta has found true love with her darling Lost Boys. Little does she know that David in particular feels an extra special connection to her because of someone he knew long ago...

Surprise!! This is a birthday present for @hypocriticaltypwriter! Cherry, you've been such a wonderful friend, I thought you deserved something special! 🎁🎂🎉

This fic has references to the OC of @hypocriticaltypwriter, Crysta and the scrapped Lost Boys prequel script, of which there is a love interest for David. It also references the song from the animated movie/musical "Anastasia". Please enjoy!

Crysta couldn't have been happier. She was living a good life with not one but four amazing, handsome, caring men. Though her lovers happened to be bloodthirsty vampires that sucked the essence from any human who crossed them, she didn't let that get in the way of her happiness. 

Each of her boys was an absolute gem. So stunning and wonderful in their own unique ways. They treated her like a queen and took the best care of her. Being a human, she was seen as a more fragile, delicate being to them. The four boys would do anything to keep her safe and sound. Always making her feel loved. 

Though she often had at least one of them by her side at all times, the daytime was when she was by herself. One day she'd be on the same sleep schedule as them, but for now, she could keep herself occupied during the day. 

Whenever she wasn't working at the salon or running errands, Crysta’s favorite thing to do was dance. It was the perfect way for her to get in some exercise while having fun moving to the songs from her cassette collection. Today was no different. With her leotard and sheer sash around her waist, she was a dancing beauty. 

Swing music was her favorite thing to dance to, but a good Prince song got her energy up too. Crysta kicked her legs up high and moved her hips to the rhythm of “When Doves Cry”. A smile was stuck on her beautiful face as she danced around the empty hideout. The music fueled her heart and soul, truly making her feel alive. 

Before she knew it, the sun outside was fading. The day started to come to an end. The darkness would soon come, as would her boys. Surely they would be awoken by the sound and smell of her hot, pumping blood. They were such frisky things~ 

“Guess I'll pick something for a cooldown,” Crysta said to herself. 

She shut off the Prince cassette and rummaged around the container for something slower to dance to. KISS, Def Leppard, Ratt, Poison, Twisted Sister. All too wild and fast for a proper cooldown to her workout. She was about to give up when something special caught her eye. 

A simple cassette with a handwritten note on the cover. “1906” written in faded ink. 

Crysta tilted her head in curiosity, studying the writing carefully. Was it supposed to be a year? That was when the hotel that once stood on the bluff crashed into the sea, leaving behind treasures to be lost or decayed within the cave the Lost Boys called home. If that was what it referred to, what did it have to do with a cassette?

“Only one way to find out.”

The redheaded girl stuck the cassette into the boombox, pressing the play button to see what music would await her. 

To her surprise, it was the complete opposite of the boy's style. Rather than a loud electric guitar and killer drum solo, the soft sound of chimes greeted her ears. Crysta’s eyes widened as she took in the sound. It was quite magical. Soft notes that dazzled her senses. She felt it to be similar to that of a lullaby from a music box. 

Stepping backward to where her dancing space was, Crysta started to take in the melody some more. Follow the rhythm as it went on. She could work with this. Her body began to move slowly as more instruments joined in. The soft tones of a flute, clarinet, bassoon and more. All of their sounds worked beautifully together as they welcomed in the lyrics to the song.

Dancing Bears

Painted Wings

Things I almost remember

And a song someone sings

Once upon a December

Crysta’s senses grew fuzzy as her body took over for the dance. She gravitated to a more ballet-style dance routine, gracefully gliding across the floor and swaying her hands in rhythm. One would think she was under a spell if they were to see her moving in such a way. 

Little did she know that such a thing was actually happening. 

In one corner of the main lobby of the sunken hotel, a tall, platinum-blond vampire stepped into view. David had awoken just a bit earlier than usual, eager to see his beloved human. The spurs of his boots clanged with each step, yet Crysta did not notice. She was far too focused on her dance. The lyrics guided her every movement.

Someone holds me safe and warm.

Horses prance through a silver storm.

Figures dancing gracefully across my memory.

David was stuck in place, overcome with shock at hearing this song. Though he had managed to find a recording of it from a modern singer, there was a time decades ago when he had heard this song live. Visions of candelabras, string quartets, and marble statues filled his mind, bringing back the memory of the resort when it still stood above the sea. 

His ice blue eyes were fixated on Crysta as the faded vision of someone he knew long ago began to take over. A lovely, dark-haired lady with a shy, yet sweet nature and soft lips that he had kissed when they were hidden away from prying eyes. His long-lost love.

His legs began to move again, carrying him to where Crysta danced. He feared the memory would slip away again if he did not go to her. The graceful movements of her dance had grown stronger as the music built up more and more. A choir sang out, filling the cave with an echo of vocals that would shake a man to his very core. Crysta was so deep within her dance that she nearly jumped in surprise when she turned to see David right behind her.

“David, you scared me!” she scolded. “What are you do-”

“Dance with me.”

Crysta was shocked by such a request. Her lashes fluttered and her eyebrow raised in curiosity. 

“What?”

David’s lip curled slightly, showing off a gentleness in his smile that was unfamiliar to Crysta. No sneakiness or devious expressions. Just a look of love.

“I wonder if I might have a dance with the princess?”

Crysta would be lying if she said she wasn’t charmed by such words. Her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink and she smiled warmly back at the vampire. She slipped her hand into his, allowing David to take hold of her waist with his other. 

“I’d be delighted.”

Someone holds me safe and warm.

Horses prance through a silver storm.

Figures dancing gracefully across my memory.

David and Crysta moved around the lobby with sheer grace. They danced in time, creating a perfect waltz together despite it being such an unfamiliar dance to the human girl. To David, it was like riding a bike. He never truly forgot how to do it. With Crysta as his dance partner, it was even easier. All he had to do was look into her eyes, and it all came back to him.

Without any hesitation, David leaned in to kiss her. The warmth of her skin made his head spin far more than any waltz could. He remembered a similar kiss behind a ballroom pillar, hiding away from a stern chaperone. Now, with colder skin from his inhuman nature, it was all so much more intense. His heart ached deep within his chest.

Far away,

Long ago,

Glowing dim as an ember,

Things my heart

Used to know

Things it yearns to remember

“You are the beautiful something I dreamed about, Anastasia.”

The spell David and the music had over her was broken, and Crysta looked up at the blond with confusion on her face.

“Why’d you say my middle name?”

David stopped the waltz once the gravity of his mistake hit him. In the blink of an eye, the vision was gone. The memory had faded away. No longer did he have a princess in his arms dancing in a ballroom. The age and decay and quietness of the cave overwhelmed his senses, making him realize how much time had passed since he had become a vampire.

And Crysta. God, did he feel guilty for his slip of the tongue. Looking at her pretty face, he did see a familiarity of his first ever love. She looked so much like Anastasia. Even the shade of her eyes was identical, as it was something he had studied carefully each time they were together.

But she wasn’t Anastasia. She was Crysta. She was her own person, not the ghost of someone he once knew. David would forever mourn her, yet he knew how truly lucky he was to have Crysta by his side here and now. He loved her more than anything, and he wanted a life with her and his boys. It wouldn’t be fair to her to get lost in the past. 

“I’m sorry, Cherri,” he cooed, taking hold of her cheek in his hand. “I think I’ve been around Max too much. I know he calls you that all of the time.”

Crysta let out a snort of laughter, amused by David.

“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re turning into a big nerd too, Davi!”

David laughed, bringing her in for an embrace and spinning her around once again. She squealed with delight as he lifted her up. The two of them were practically giddy with their playfulness. 

“I’m not changin’ at all,” he promised, setting her back down on her feet. “Now let’s go wake up the others so we can grab a bite to eat.”

Crysta eagerly wrapped her hands around his arm, allowing him to lead the way to the sleeping chambers of the boys. With them out of sight, the last few words of the song played for nobody to hear. 

And a song someone sings

Once upon a December

Tag List: @mjtheartist04 @cryptic-michael @vampirefilmlover @oceansrose2002 @ghoulgeousimmaculate @starlahuskyz @ria-coolgirl

[weirdgerman]

That's why his hairline is receding. It's full of secrets.

So, it's August 20, 2023. :) On August 20, 2022, I walked to the pharmacy by my house and picked up my first 3 bottles of TestoGel, and applied some the minute I got home. It's a joyous occasion, and much has changed about my body since then, but there's one thing in particular I wanted to write about for today. Because, as always, it's funny.

I've always had very thick hair, and it's longer now than it's been in a long time, so I'm not sure if it's thicker now than it was before, but it definitely feels that way. It has not thinned, so far, is what I'm saying. It'd be fine if it did! I'm 31, it happens. If you're bald, hi, you're hot.

So I'm not bald, and I'm not balding per se, but T has made my hairline change. You're familiar with what I'm talking about, those spots around the temples where people tend to bald first, at varying ages. I have those now, which is extremely cool and sexy of me.

You will not be surprised to hear that German has a word for those. A long, silly compound word for a very specific part of some people's bodies. You may now take a few moments to sit and guess what that word might be. Let me know if you come up with anything!

The word is.....

Geheimratsecken!

It is very much one of my favorites. As always, I'll break it up for you:

geheim = secret, as in the adjective. A secret (noun) is das Geheimnis.

Rat = not a rat. That's Ratte. This one means council.

Ecke(n) = corner(s)

A Geheimrat is a privy council, one like the ancient Romans had. That's where this word is believed to have originated. Because, you could only be part of this council if you were of a certain age. Anyone whose temples weren't bald and sexy and naked yet - and you know the Romans were all about being sexy and naked - was too young to be part of a privy council.

So it's a feature of honor! To this day, we call these bald spots at your temples privy council corners, because it shows that you're wise enough to give council to Caesar. And we all know how that worked out for him.

I used to think that it meant more that the corners are for the privy council. Like there's some round-ish shape hollowed out there where you can put like.... a table and some chairs..... to hold council.... But then you sweep the rest of your hair over it so nobody can see and that's why it's a privy council... Anyway. I actually like the true meaning more, because it makes me feel cool.

Be proud of your Geheimratsecken, flaunt them, get nude, show skin, stab the emperor. ♥