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#the exclamation point makes it art
uselessgaywhovian · 6 months
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so i'm on my first Durge run and resisting the urge but Sceleritas Fel is just so funny to me sometimes
he showed up in camp telling me to kill Isobel and i was like "No, I don't want to, also if I kill her then everyone in Last Light dies too" and he's just like "But Master, think about the piles of bodies that would make 🥺 You used to love piles of bodies 🥺 Maybe having some piles of bodies around would make you feel better 🥺🥺🥺"
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paintedpatroclus · 16 days
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“so, sokka clings to him, and sighs contentedly when zuko clings back.” from breakable heaven, chapter 10 by @sokkalore
how’s everyone holding up zukka nation …
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batwynn · 1 year
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I’m happy to share that Sticker Club AND Honorary Sticker Club on Patreon will include special Pride-themed button pins this coming month! These are a few of the designs that will be available to vote on soon! (plus a bird watching one just for fun!🪶♥️) A reminded: Pride month means stickers and cards for every tier level! You can join now for $1 and get vote for what ships/fandoms you’d like to see an art card of for June. (Some non-pride themed options are available.)
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*Sticker Club is a $15+ a month tier, that includes two stickers and a card every month, sometimes with special bonuses on celebratory months like Pride Month 👀. Honorary Sticker Club is a $10 a month tier that includes one sticker and a card every month (also with bonuses on random months!)
Link to Patreon in my pinned post!
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another-clive-blog · 5 months
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I'm not quite done with my Timebug stuff, so have these doodles of regular Clive in the meantime <3
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moreclaypigeons · 1 year
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merle highchurch 👰‍♂️🎷
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Im not gonna dignify this one with a caption
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aeide-thea · 2 years
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In the City
                        for Monica Sok
These bridges are a feat of engineering. These pork & chive dumplings        we bought together, before hopping on a train & crossing bridges, are a feat of engineering. Talking to you, crossing bridges        in trains, eating pork & chive dumplings in your bright boxcar of a kitchen in Brooklyn, is an engineer’s dream-feat        of astonishment. Tonight I cannot believe the skyline because the skyline believes in me, forgives me my drooling        astonishment over it & over the fact that this happens, this night, every night, its belief, glittering mad & megawatt like the dreams        of parents. By the way, is this soy sauce reduced sodium? Do you know? Do we care? High, unabashed sodium intake!        Unabashed exclamation points! New York is an exclamation I take, making my escape, away from the quiet snowy commas of Upstate        & the mess of questions marking my Bostonian past. In New York we read Darwish, we write broken sonnets finally forgiving        the Broken English of Our Mothers, we eat pork & chive dumplings, & I know, it’s such a 90s fantasy        of multiculturalism that I am rehashing, but still, in New York I feel I can tell you how my mother & I        used to make dumplings together, like a scene out of The Joy Luck Club. The small kitchen, the small bowl of water        between us. How we dipped index finger, thumb. Sealed each dumpling like tucking in a secret, goodnight.        The meat of a memory. A feat of engineering. A dream of mother & son. Interrupted by the father, my father        who made my mother get on a plane, a theory, years of nowhere across American No’s, a degree that proved useless.        Proved he was the father. I try to build a bridge to my parents but only reach my mother & it’s a bridge she’s about to        jump off of. I run to her, she jumps, she’s swimming, saying, Finally I’ve learned—all this time, trying to get from one useless        chunk of land to another, when I should’ve stayed in the water. & we’re drinking tap water in your bright Brooklyn kitchen.        I don’t know what to tell you. I thought I could tell this story, give it a way out of itself. Even here, in my fabulous        Tony-winning monologue of a New York, I’m struggling to get to the Joy, the Luck. I tell you my mother still        boils the water, though she knows she doesn’t have to anymore. Her special kettle boils in no time, is a feat of engineering.        She could boil my father in it & he’d come out a better person, in beautiful shoes.        She could boil the Atlantic, the Pacific, every idyllic American pond with its swans. She would.
       —Chen Chen (2016)
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cherrysnax · 10 days
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i want to see my little freaks interact and save their city and grow into teachers and engineers and Pulitzer Prize winners and actual doctors and real superheroes and beat up middle aged petty Italian niggas but I need to put a pen to fucking paper (metaphorically) and draw. But I can’t. how can I make something about coming out of horrible circumstances a better, stronger person if my body is shutting down on me?
how can i draw people beating the odds if I can barely brush my teeth or shower or lay down without immense pain?
#am I showing my spine exclamation point by giving up?#am I making our ocs proud?? would retro just lay around crying about what he can’t do?? I mean. a little bit admittedly but she’d do it#anyway. leo would tell me that art block is only half the battle im fighting#and that im standing in my own way and the only way foreword is to just draw#robyn knows how much a seemingly career ending injury can affect somebody so they’d probably give me actual advice but also tell me that as#a person. a human being I have the amazing ability to adapt and choose to keep going. to chooose to make it easier on myself#eris would probably call me stupid. but would also probably tell me that my understanding of art also needs to be connected to my udnerstan#understanding of myself. my want to be a different artist is killing my creativity and I need to focus on cultivating a style that suits me#and stop trying to draw for other people. Sage would probably tell me to use 3D models and make face brushes and all that jazz because she’s#a doctor and resourceful and if she had the ability to have shortcuts for anything she’d take ‘em so fast. and that while getting used to#disabilities new and old is hard it’s never impossible. and that it’s unhealthy to hold myself to a standard even at my healthiest I couldnt#reach. and Zaya would call me a small minded human and kill me <3#man. I love these guys so much and I want ppl to love them as much as Chevy and I do. I hate that this actually fucking helped#this is so cringe but im free. this is our year. it has to be
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spair-m · 9 months
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If anyone feels like silently judging my music tastes, here’s my playlist
Also just cause, why not
(You can ignore the occasional danish songs)
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autistichalsin · 5 months
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The song and dance of being autistic is pretty much:
Your default typing tone is too aggro.
So you tone it down a lot out of fear of being misconstrued! You put a lot of exclamation points! And smiley faces :) To show you mean no harm. And you also :( Apologize and use frowny faces :( a lot when people inevitably misunderstand you!
But then you're being manipulative by apologizing too much. Well, fuck. Okay so you start typing a little more casual, bc that shows you are just sort of saying your thoughts, you know, nbd-
Oh, you're getting misunderstood more. People don't know what you're saying. Okay. So, I am going to really overexplain every single word I type, because I want there to be no doubt as to whether I mean (X) when I say (X)! Yeah, so, when I said "I ate waffles for breakfast this morning," what I meant is that I had waffles for breakfast this morning, okay? I'm not sure if you know but I like waffles, so-
Fuck! Now I'm "condescending." Okay. "Okay, so, new friend? I have to admit, I get misunderstood by people a lot, so I want to know how I can talk best to you. Like, should I use tone indicators or something?"
And now I'm making things too complicated, calm down, it's not that serious, I would NEVER misunderstand, promise. "Oh, okay, thanks friend! That really means a lot to me, you know, I appreciate that we can just talk about things straightforwardly. So, I'll tell you what I mean, okay? So I wanted to tell you that I REALLY liked this art you made, it was incredible, I really liked the colors!"
Annnd now I sound "insincere" and at this point I just realize there is no winning sometimes
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chiqelatasblog · 6 months
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When a Sorcerer Turns Into a Cat…
-> Ao3 link is here.
-> Catsung art.
-> Another art for the last scene.
-> Lovely art by @inienil
Pairing : Shang Tsung x Reader
Tropes : Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Confessions, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Kind of Secret Identity?
Summary : When Shang Tsung crafted a potion for invisibility, he was unprepared for the peculiar result—he unexpectedly transformed into a cat. Struggling to navigate the world on four paws, he sought refuge, and that’s precisely when you entered the scene.
As the only person Shang Tsung trusted, he reached out to you, desperately in need of help. Oblivious to his true identity, you unwittingly revealed some truths about your feelings as you welcomed the unexpected guest into your home.
Author’s Note: I had so much fun when I was writing this. I always thought Shang Tsung behave like a sassy cat and seeing memes about it, this fic came to life. Hope you guys like it too, happy reading! .
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He should never have made that potion.
About a day ago, he received the recipe for the invisibility potion from a small, dimly lit shop nestled in a mysterious corner of the city. The shop, selling peculiar items of unknown origin, offered him the recipe at an unbelievably low price, almost as if fate had handed him a golden ticket.
Despite a nagging suspicion that something wasn’t quite right, he was low on funds and had little else to trade Invisibility, a coveted skill he had long yearned to master, promised an escape from the ongoing misery of his life.
Eagerly, he returned to his humble trailer, carefully following the recipe’s instructions. The resulting potion, a dark purple concoction with a nauseating odor, made him gag even before it touched his lips. Disregarding the unpleasantness, he gulped it down in one go. Initially, only the repulsive taste assaulted his senses, but as seconds morphed into minutes, and his body stubbornly remained visible, frustration and realization set in – he had been duped.
Uttering a string of curses, he nervously set the bottle on the table, and then, suddenly, the world around him seemed to expand. No, he corrected himself; it was he who was shrinking. Panic seized him as his body crumbled at an alarming rate. Clothes, once fitting, now engulfed him like a collapsing tent. His limbs betrayed him, refusing to respond as he grappled with the unfolding chaos.
When he finally managed to disentangle himself from the heap of clothes, he was sent tumbling down the steps of his trailer, only to land unceremoniously in a puddle a short distance away.
Drenched from head to toe, he couldn’t hold back a frustrated ‘‘Fuck!’’ as he flung his wet hair away. However, amidst his exclamation, an unexpected sound reached his ears – a distinct ‘’Meow!’’
Shang Tsung’s world ground to a halt. ‘’Meow?’’ he echoed, utterly perplexed.
Gazing at his reflection in the puddle, he hoped desperately that it was all a dream. The creature staring back at him couldn’t be real. Two pairs of pointed ears, long black whiskers, a tiny triangular black nose, and again two large black eyes confronted him. He blinked, as if trying to verify his vision, and recoiled when his reflection blinked back in perfect synchronization.
The cat-like scream that followed, much higher-pitched than any human scream, nearly caused him to faint. He had transformed into a cat!
Fluffy paws had replaced his hands and feet, and whiskers, resembling delicate antennas, twitched involuntarily. The wet black fur failed to offer warmth, and a tail resembling a cleaning brush remained the only dry spot on his body.
Surveying his surroundings helplessly, Shang Tsung grappled with the overwhelming sensations. Colors, scents, and sounds bombarded his heightened senses. The moist and soft ground beneath his paws carried distinct smells – from the lush grass and flower pollen to the foul odor of nearby mice – making him nauseous and dizzy in this new feline reality.
He resolved to hide in his trailer until the effects of the potion had hopefully worn off. Perhaps time was the only remedy to this bizarre transformation.
With this decision, as he tried to maneuver his entirely alien limbs, he stumbled back into the puddle. Emitting a frustrated meow, he lifted his now even wetter body on trembling legs and took a determined step forward.
Coordinating his brain to move all four legs proved to be the most challenging task he had ever faced. Despite managing a few steps, it wasn’t long before he found himself face down on the ground. Climbing the stairs was out of the question when he could barely walk.
Yet, the thought of enduring the night defenseless in the open urged him to explore other options. Despite the presence of sharp claws at his disposal, he remained clueless about how to wield them effectively.
Suddenly, thunder rumbled ominously from the gathering dark clouds, intensifying his struggle. The loud noise sent shivers through his wet fur, and he fluffed up instinctively. What was he going to do now?
Abandoning the idea of entering his trailer due to his incapacitated state, and unable to climb the steps, he considered hiding beneath it. However, this provided little protection against larger predators.
As he weighed his limited options, another thunderclap sounded nearby, and rain approached faster than expected. Then, a solution flashed in his mind.
You.
In his present state of misery, pride might have prevented him from seeking you out, but the importance of trust is a precious rarity that outweighed his ego. The silver lining lay in the fact that, cloaked in this form, his identity would remain undetected by you.
He knew the way to your house by heart. If he could only manage to use his damn paws correctly, he estimated reaching your house in half an hour, perhaps even before the rain caught up with him.
With this determination, Shang wasted no time in taking action. His steps were still uneven and shaky, but time wasn’t a luxury he could afford to care about that.
The noise of the crowd from the market ahead throbbed in his ears, and an onslaught of diverse smells reached his nose, aggravating the nausea in his stomach. Being a cat was proving to be a challenging experience, perhaps explaining why they were often grumpy.
Navigating through the people, Shang tried his best not to entangle himself in anyone’s feet. However, his coordination mishaps led to a loss of balance, and a boy stepping on his tail resulted in a piercing yowl. Turning towards the offender, Shang unleashed a tirade of furious growls, attempting to express his outrage in the only way available.
‘’Are you blind, you damned brat! You almost trampled me!’’
Every word translated to meows, yet the intensity of his anger was universally understood. The woman, presumably the child’s mother, shielded her son from Shang and attempted to shoo him away with her hand, further bruising his wounded dignity.
Frustrated, Shang roared, ‘‘Who do you think you’re shooing, woman? Mother and son, I will kill you both and take your souls as a souvenir!’’—all conveyed in blood-curling meows.
Amidst the chaotic market, a male voice behind him suggested, ‘‘Ma’am, stand back; I think it has rabies.’’
Shang glared at the new person who had insulted him.
‘’Who do you think you’re calling rabid, you fucker—Oh, shit.’’
When he saw the bucket in the man’s hand that he was about to pour on him, he instantly put an end to his words-meows and hurried away from there as far as his legs would allow. He did not know how long he had been wandering around the market; the interior of the place he had always been wandering around had suddenly turned into a maze.
Everything was too loud, causing him to be constantly startled and feel the need to crawl into a corner with fear. The noise was overwhelming, and he had never felt so nervous; it was challenging not to be crushed underfoot when people, oblivious to his tiny presence, walked past him like giants. Additionally, the smells were more than mere scents—they were a symphony of overpowering fragrances that constantly distracted his attention.
After enduring a relentless pursuit by several dogs, their barks resonating through the narrow alleys, two people attempted to offer Shang affection. Amidst the chaos, he responded by scratching one person’s face, biting the other’s hand, and clumsily falling to the ground for the thirtieth time. Eventually, he managed to navigate the maze-like streets and arrive in front of your house.
Standing at the door of your one-story, quite small, stone house, he didn’t bother to stand up. Instead, he lay down on the ground for a prolonged moment.
Tired, hungry, and thirsty, he also felt the grime on his fur from the rain that continued to pour. It was already dark, and despite all his efforts, he hadn’t managed to escape the relentless downpour. While waiting in front of the door, drenched and shivering, he started screaming at the top of his lungs when he couldn’t hear a sound indicating that you were inside.
Just as people didn’t trust him easily, he himself never trusted others easily. In fact, he never trusted. You were the only one who had an exception in this matter. He had a bond with you that he didn’t share with anyone; it was so special and precious to him that Shang was afraid of doing something wrong and pushing you away.
You possessed a kind and empathetic nature, extending compassion even to someone like him who made money by deceiving people. This filled him with the need to protect, as well as a genuine concern for your selflessness.
While you were certainly not naive, your kind heart and tolerant attitude toward everyone could one day lead you to unexpected hurt. People often saw kindness as weakness, and Shang knew it well. Kindness was nothing more than a tool for many to gain the upper hand and exploit others.
Shang, despite his deceptive nature, taught you how to draw boundaries with small word games, preserving your gentle nature without resorting to brute force. Although he was aware that this approach contradicted his general nature, he found himself irresistibly drawn to you, seizing every opportunity to be near you.
He had no idea when he fell in love with you; perhaps it was the first time he saw you, or maybe it was when a few of the customers he tricked later came to kick his ass, and you helped him take care of his wounds after they hurt him badly. Or maybe it was that sexy look on your face when you didn’t refrain from answering back to him about something for the first time.
The options were endless, but one thing he knew was that he had never felt such intense attraction and closeness to anyone before. He was almost sure that you felt the same way, but he hesitated to take a step further, not wanting to risk this relationship he couldn’t name between you.
Finally, Shang stopped shouting when footsteps, making it clear that you had heard his screams, were heard from behind the door.
‘‘What’s going on?’’
When you opened the door and looked with curious eyes to see the source of the sound, Shang instantly tried to get your attention, mustering a heart-wrenching meow to pull at your heartstrings.
‘‘Oh, were you the cause of all this screaming?’’
By opening the door a little further, as if to show that there was no threat, you got down on your knees and stretched out your hand to him, inviting him closer.
“Hello, little one, come closer.’’
Shang came straight to you without a second thought, rubbing his head on your hands. He began to purr, a sound that seemed to emanate from the very core of his being. You put on a sweet smile at the sounds he made, Shang’s eyes closing with happiness as your gentle hands massaged behind his ears.
‘‘You poor thing, you’re soaked through.’’ After stroking his head a little more, you carefully grasped him on both sides with your hands. ‘’I’m going to hold you in my arms, please don’t attack me, okay?’’
Shang responded with louder purrs, trying to make himself appear as harmless and innocent as possible. You were the only person in this world he would not harm, a fact that could not change now or later. The warmth of your embrace provided solace to Shang, now a rain-soaked cat, as you lifted him into your arms. His damp fur clung to your clothes, but you didn’t seem to mind.
As you cradled him in your lap, Shang tried not to be too impressed by the softness of your breasts. But right now, even if he was a cat, he was a man, and being closer to the woman he loved than ever before might have affected him more than he thought.
‘‘That’s it, come here, my little friend. Let’s wash you first; you smell terrible. We’ll have dinner together later, what do you think? Is that okay?’’
While holding him with one hand and stroking him under the chin with the other hand, Shang’s eyes closed with happiness once again. He felt safe, comfortable, and peaceful. All that dizzying confusion of sounds, smells, and images had finally calmed down a little.
Your scent was playing a big role in him calming down. It was sweet, reminiscent of vanilla and a hint of lavender, a fragrance that wrapped around him like a comforting embrace.
When he caught your scent once more, just to be certain, his mouth watered. It was delicious, with an undercurrent of delightful notes—raisins and chocolate dough, the unmistakable aroma of his all-time favorite dessert: moon cakes, a treat you had lovingly prepared to smell just like this.
When his stomach rumbled loudly enough to embarrass him, you giggled.
“Oh my, I will put an end to your hunger at once, little one. Don’t worry; you’re in good hands.’’
When you arrived at the bathroom, after placing him in a basin and approaching to pour hot water on him, Shang’s whole body reflexively tensed up, and his coat puffed out.
If I get wet one more fucking time I-
‘‘I’ll keep this as quick as possible.’’ You said, in your usual kind voice, and put a little kiss on his head. The words that were waiting on the tip of Shang’s tongue to be said evaporated and disappeared into the air. Before he had a chance to shake off his astonishment, you began to wash his body with hot water.
Although he didn’t want to admit it, he liked the bath. The warm water cascading over him felt like a gentle rain, washing away the grime and tension from his fur. His body, stiff from the nightmare-filled moments he spent outside, had almost reached the consistency of falling asleep as it slowly relaxed between your fingers, which felt like magic.
‘‘Good boy, look how well behaved you are. You must be someone’s cat; you don’t look feral at all.’’ You said, mumbling to yourself. Your compliment had caused another unexpected reaction in Shang. While his heart began to beat faster than before, he had no doubt that his cheeks would have flushed noticeably if he had been human.
When you started delicately drying his body with a towel, Shang seized the opportunity to shake off the water, and in a playful display, a small scream escaped your lips as you attempted to shield yourself from the scattered water drops.
With your face and hair now adorned with droplets, Shang, taking full advantage of his feline guise, delicately licked the drops on your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, he reveled in this mischievous act.
Against his movement, you let out a giggle that made his heart jump. After drying his semi-damp body, you picked him up again and headed into the kitchen. Shang took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious smells wafting around, trying to ignore the rumbling of his stomach.
You had just made the moon cakes he had predicted, and with the smoke rising from them, it was obvious they had just come out of the stone oven. Shang couldn’t decide whether your lap or the buns lined up like treasure on the counter were more attractive.
‘‘Stop right here, and I’ll see what I can give you.’’
As you put him down and started preparing food by wandering around the kitchen, Shang looked at the counter with longing eyes. How he would have liked to jump in there and grab one of the cakes. Deciding to try his luck, he leaned his paws on the counter, attempting to keep his balance on both legs. Although he couldn’t see the counter, he could have reached out and grabbed one of the cakes with his paw. He just needed to reach a little more—
‘‘Oh, hold on there, you naughty kitty.’’
You grabbed him by the waist, pulled him away from the counter, and placed him on the table.
‘’There’s nothing there for you.”
“Don’t think so; you can’t protect those buns from me.”
Interpreting his mewing as a sign of hunger, you once again stroked the top of his head with understanding eyes.
“Here you go buddy, enjoy your meal.”
Leaving the food you had prepared for him in front of him, you sat down with your own dinner. Shang inspected the food, smelling the bowl. When he caught a whiff of chicken broth and stale bread crumbs, he looked up, giving you side eyes.
He couldn’t believe you were offering him stale bread.
“What?” As you carefully chewed a morsel, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Are you giving me the side eye?”
Shang pushed the food with one paw, turning his head to the side.
“What’s with that attitude?” you said with a laugh. “Aren’t you hungry? You should be able to smell the chicken inside.”
“And the stale bread you put in,” Shang hissed. Approaching you confidently, he eyed the food on your plate. With beautifully baked chicken pieces, sautéed vegetables, and rice, your plate looked quite delicious. Shang swallowed, feeling his mouth water. You didn’t stop him when he buried his head in your plate, about to devour one of the chickens.
“Alright, eat up. It’s obvious you need it more than me.”
As you gently stroked his head, Shang couldn’t determine if he was truly starving, attributing the chicken’s apparent deliciousness to his intense hunger. With purrs that exceeded his small body, he devoured the meal, finding it to be the most delicious chicken he had ever eaten.
When you prepared a new plate for yourself and sat down, a peaceful silence descended between the two of you. After a while, while taking a small sip from your wine glass, you continued to gently stroke the top of Shang’s head with one hand.
This, he thought to himself, must be heaven.
‘’You’re tame enough to make me think you’re somebody’s pet. If you haven’t run away from home and you’ve been dumped, I have two words to say to that person.’’ You said in a harsh voice.
As Shang licked the leftover pieces of chicken smeared on the side of his mouth, he started purring louder when he heard the protective timbre in your voice. Giggling at his reaction, you stroked his cheek with your dainty fingers.
‘’We need to give you a name, hmm.’’ After taking another sip of your wine, you patted your chin with one hand and looked at him with thoughtful eyes. Shang thought about how breathtaking you looked at that moment.
Most of the lights in your house were turned off, it was dim except for a few candles that you placed around and the heat and light emitted by a small fireplace burning a little further away.
The places where the soft yellow light touched your skin painted you a sweet golden color, while your cheeks were slightly pinkened because of the wine you were drinking, and your lips were tinged with a dark color of red. As the thin tufts of hair that had escaped from the bun that you had scattered from the top covered your face, he felt an intense desire to kiss you at that moment, it suddenly became even more important for him than breathing.
You looked so sweet, vulnerable, and beautiful that he cursed himself once again for turning into a cat. But on the other hand, if he hadn’t turned, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to see you like this.
“Actually, I know someone who loves cats, I have no doubt that he will adore you.” You said and put another smile on your face from behind the glass touched your lips. His heart warmed at the sight of you. “He tries not to show it, but I know how much he loves animals. It’s easier for him to make friends compared to people; I can’t blame him for thinking like that. Everyone has their reasons.’’
When your fingers moved again to stroke the soft fur, Shang brought his head closer to you. Meanwhile, he couldn’t help wondering, were you talking about him?
‘‘I can tell that his hair is the same color as your coat, and even your eyes are exactly the same color. Should I also call you Shang? Or Shang the Junior?‘’ You continued laughing at your own words, while Shang responded by looking at you with side eyes. His gaze must be amusing to you, making you burst into a louder laugh.
‘‘I’ve no doubt he’ll look just as sassy as you are looking at me right now! By the elder gods, that was good. But I think it would be more appropriate if I thought of another name… how about Night? It’s a name that suits you quite well.’’
After stroking his head for the last time, you collected the plates on the table in one hand and stood up with the wine glass you were about to finish. You put the plates in the tap, cut one of the moon cakes left on the counter across from you in half, and put it in your mouth.
“Better than I thought, Shang will love these.” You said it in a hushed voice, difficult to be heard. The expression on your face was much more peaceful and gentle now. Knowing that he was the reason behind it, filled Shang with pride. When he tried to attract attention to himself by meowing across the table, you approached him with half a moon cake.
“I know it’s usually harmful for you to eat this, but I guess a little bite once is fine, right? Here you go.” When you divided the one in your hand once more, reduced it even more, and handed it to him, Shang happily bit the piece you handed him into his mouth. The taste was absolutely exquisite—a feast of flavors that melted in his mouth before he even chewed.
‘‘You seem to like it too.’’
‘‘I love it!’’ Shang said, meowing loudly. When he held on to your arm with his front paws to ask for more, you had no choice but to give him the other piece as well. After Shang filled the last place left in his small stomach with cake, you took him on your lap and went into the living room.
You lay down on the peltries and furs that were laid out a little distance from the fireplace and pulled one of the cushions on the floor to have a pillow under your head. Shang instantly took advantage of the opportunity, curled up on your arm and rested his head on your neck.
The smell of you, the heat from the fireplace, and the crackling rising from the burning wood… all filled him with peace, as well as his relaxing body literally turned to jelly.
As the rain outside continued its symphony, Shang, now affectionately named Night, nestled comfortably in your gentle embrace. The soft illumination of candles played with the shadows, creating a tranquil ambiance that matched the warmth spreading within him.
Your musings about other potential names—Whiskers or Shadow—accompanied by the calming melody of the rain, painted an intimate scene. The soothing patter of raindrops on the window seemed to harmonize with the contented purrs emanating from Shang, reinforcing the newfound sense of belonging.
‘‘It’s a very different feeling to want to see someone all the time, not to want to leave their side,’’ You said some time later. Your tone was quiet and somehow fragile. While one hand stroked the soft, black fur, Shang stubbornly tried to resist sleeping, despite his tired body. He wanted to hear the words that would come out of your mouth.
‘‘I feel that I really know him, I accepted him into my heart a long time ago with all his wrongs and truths.’’
Even though there was technically no one else in the house but you, your voice was getting quiet, as if you were afraid someone would hear it. When the other hand covered your eyes, the smile that left your lips this time had nothing to do with the previous ones. It was bitter and insecure.
‘’I like him. Oh gods, I like him more than I thought.’’
A tear trickled down your cheek from the eyes you had hidden from him. Shang instantly rose up and licked the tear that was trickling down your cheek, as if to calm you down. How he would like to be a human being right now and reciprocate you. While his heart was pounding with happiness and excitement because of your confession, at the same time, your lack of self-confidence and the anxiety that you were feeding from the inside made him feel bad.
You finally kissed the top of his head, rewarding him for trying to comfort you as much as he could with a little chuckle.
‘’Thank you, Night. Your presence was unexpected, but thank you for choosing my door.’’ You said, in a voice as soft and sincere as honey. ‘‘I wish there was some way I could know what was going through Shang’s mind; it would be nice to know if he feels the same way towards me, wouldn’t it?’’
Shang just rubbed his head against yours, trying to give you a positive answer. He wanted this damn situation to end as soon as possible; he was about to go insane.
After a while, you declared, ‘’It’s been a long day,’ concluding the topic. The flickering flames in the fireplace cast a warm glow, highlighting the subtle lines of exhaustion on your face. Shifting towards the fireplace, you enveloped him in your arms, pulling Shang close as if he was a cherished plush toy. Shang nestled into the warmth, leaning against you with no space between.
He seemed content in this embrace, willing to endure it a while longer.
BONUS:
As birds chirped outside and sunlight gradually invaded the room, you slowly awoke. The wooden floor beneath you creaked as you shifted, a small moan escaping your lips along with the lingering ache in your hips.
Every inch of you seemed to protest the unconventional night’s rest. Yet, when a hand, still warm from sleep, squeezed your waist, all discomfort faded. Turning, a gasp caught in your throat.
There lay Shang Tsung, peacefully asleep, a sight you hadn’t anticipated. Surprised, you didn’t scream, perhaps even forgetting to breathe. Studying his features, you reached out, brushing your fingers through his tousled black hair. The once-cynical expression softened in slumber, and his pale pink lips were slightly parted, giving him a tranquil and almost boyish appearance, adorned with freckles on cheeks and nose.
Time seemed to halt, your heart reacting as it always did in his presence. To affirm it wasn’t a dream, your fingers grazed the soft strands of his hair, gently pulling them away from his face.
“This is real,” you uttered in a single breath. When Shang heard your voice, he parted his long, black eyelashes. His sleepy gaze found you directly, and a small smile settled on his face, leaving your heart in disarray.
“Of course, it’s real,” said Shang, his voice thicker than usual due to sleep. “It’s too early to wake up yet, so close your eyes. Let’s get some more sleep.”
Your brain was preoccupied with grasping the truth of how he got into your house and why he was sprawled over you with his arms wrapped around you.
“What are you doing here?” you asked with surprise.
“You let me in,” he replied simply.
“Me?” As you tried to figure out how, your eyebrows furrowed. The pieces snapped together in your mind as if lightning had flashed inside your head. “Was it you last night?!” you exclaimed, the half-scream in your voice. Shang’s eyes had already closed, but the wicked smile that revealed he hadn’t fallen asleep yet lingered on his face.
“How did you manage to turn into a cat?”
“Dear, it’s a pretty long story. Let me get some sleep first.”
As Shang snuggled closer, placing his chin on the top of your head, your eyes trailed down to his bare, muscular chest, and a shrill scream escaped your lips.
“You’re naked!”
“I guess so, I was a cat.”
“I can’t believe you’re sleeping next to me like this and still doing it,” you stammered, your face almost on fire.
“Well, I am quite comfortable,” Shang quipped without opening his eyes. He groped and took one of the pelts behind him, using it to cover himself.
“There, is that all right now?’’ A mischievous glint appeared in Shang’s eyes as he teased, “Well, if you’re done interrogating me, maybe I can finally enjoy some beauty sleep.”
You were so confused that you couldn’t answer him. Your poor brain, still struggling to comprehend what had just happened, was about to reach its breaking point. When you remembered the conversation you had with yourself last night, your face got so hot that you thought you were going to pass out and faint on the spot.
‘’When you were a cat… Do you remember what I said?”
Shang realized what you were talking about and chuckled in a deep voice.
“Everything.”
“Everything?” you said, squealing. Attempting to wriggle free from his grasp, you tried to hide from him, but Shang’s strong hands didn’t release their grip on your waist for a moment. On the contrary, a shaky breath escaped you when he pulled you closer, his hand gently stroking your hair.
“I like you too, (y/n),” Shang said, then kissed your forehead as if sealing his words. “I’ve been waiting for this moment so long,” he took a deep breath, burying his face into your hair. “While I’m holding you in my arms like this now, I don’t want to let go. Let’s stay like this a little longer.”
Since you couldn’t trust your voice, you contented yourself with nodding in approval. Although you couldn’t see Shang’s expression, there was no doubt he wasn’t smiling.
Your heart filled with warmth and happiness, sensations you’d never experienced before. You had a premonition that Shang had feelings for you, but you chose silence, fearing your confession might affect the bond between you.
This mutual confession made you feel light as a bird, filling you with pure happiness that made you wiggle like a little girl.
Before you could help yourself, now allowed to do something you’d wanted for a very long time, you straightened up on your elbows and planted a little kiss on one of Shang’s round cheeks.
Shang slightly opened his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing on earth. Then, as his hand found its place in the back of your neck, guiding you closer, you willingly followed. When your lips met, it was like two magnets drawn together, stealing every ounce of breath from your lungs
Shang’s kiss was as soft as the morning itself, an impetuosity showing that all the time belonged to them. While responding to his kiss, a detail caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“Shang… You’re purring.”
Shang’s closed eyes widened.
“Fuck. There must be some side effects left from the damn potion.”
“I’ve always wanted to have a big cat,” you teased. Shang’s eyes narrowed playfully.
“I’m not like the cats you know, sweetie,” he said, brushing your hair with the back of his hand. Another smile left your lips, and you reached out to kiss him again.
“I have no doubt of it. Just don’t scratch the furniture, okay?”
Shang mockingly gasped, placing a hand over his chest.
“I’m offended. My claws are reserved for far more exciting endeavors, darling.”
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watercolourcritters · 3 months
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Oluwande: Best Dude Ever!!
(late fanart friday, in which I continue to draw silly cartoons of my faves because they make me happy)
Instagram | Etsy | Tip Jar
[ID: Digital art of Oluwande, Zheng, Jim, and Archie from Our Flag Means Death done in a cartoon style. Oluwande stands in the middle wearing his season 2 outfit, sunglasses, and a red/orange/teal flower necklace. He holds a flower bouquet in the same colours and makes the peace sign while smiling. Zheng, Jim, and Archie are all scowling at the viewer and making silly poses as they point at Oluwande as if presenting him to the viewer. Zheng stands to the right of him, and Archie and Jim stand to the left, with Archie standing on Jim's shoulders.
Large text over Oluwande reads his name, with smaller point form text reading "Best dude ever" "love of their lives." Small exclamation lines extend from his shoes, and text reads "He wears crocs!" The signature reads @ watercolourcritters. End ID.]
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fudgelling-away · 3 months
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Dating Start!
The visual novel fan game.
I watched the gameplay on YouTube.
All possible choices...
The writing under the cut starts with exclamations of my distress, and ends with a coherent commentary on how experiencing such virtual scenarios can benefit the player.
I don't think there are spoilers... Other than the fact that you can go multiple ways through the game.
The genocide route plus the attempted pacifist route afterwards.
HORRIBLE.
OMG.
And when you try to do the pacifist route again? Did you see how it ends?
MY GOD, NO. No. no. no no no.
What a sickening turn of events. This is... Ugh, I am nauseaus even thinking back to it.
No. No.
Ewwww noooo what the f-
I have been upset for DAYS after watching it. And the pictures and the dialogue is still burned into my mind.
TERRIFYING.
DISGUSTING.
EVIL.
Congratulations to the creators - and I mean it.
That is... so well made. Just... perfect punch after punch after punch to your heart. The creators ripped me apart into pieces.
Great job - again, not ironically.
That is a very, very well made game.
They knew exactly what to do to make it as painful as possible. To get all tears out of the player and to traumatize them for some time.
It's not brutal or cruel in a mindless way, no. No, no. It's way more intelligent than that. It creates such a horrific scenario, paired with the horrific pictures, that I don't think I'll ever forget it. And I only saw a YouTube video.
In comparison to Dating Start!, the normal UT Sans fight is like a happy picnic in the park.
"But it's just a game, aren't you overreacting?", you could ask. Well, no. I am enjoying artwork like pictures, movies, games to get immersed into it and experience it all. If I keep my shield up and do not allow myself to feel what the characters are feeling... then what's the point?
What's the point of even approaching art if I refuse to feel any of it?
So Dating Start! is obviously a game, but if you imagine it being a reality, imagine yourself holding that knife, it gets so painful that I want to wail and scream my lungs out.
That being said, I appreciate artists who create these kinds of difficult works so much.
I believe we choose a variety of art for ourselves because we need different stimuli. If our life was 100% fluff, we'd drown in it and become numb.
So we consume angst, tragedies, horror and other unpleasant works.
We consider those scenarios.
We think of the possible choices.
We come to terms with our worldview, or challenge it.
We grow.
We process those real emotions and learn so many things about ourselves and problem solving.
We keep developing our sense of conscience.
--------
And, to sum up I will say something to make sure I am understood correctly:
Let people explore all sides of humanity within the safety of their fantasies.
It is NOT possible to judge a person by what they create and what art they enjoy. Human mind is not black and white.
Choosing to perceive it like that: "violent art = violent person" is INCREDIBLY IMMATURE. Ridiculously childlish and small-minded.
So I am absolutely NOT judging anyone who for one reason or another enjoys doing the genocide routes in games. I enjoy to be the "bad guy" in games as well.
No judgement from my side. That should be... obvious, but I think it's not, so I am making sure to include that in my post.
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rookthorne · 1 year
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥
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The creatures of the night were stuff of legends, tales to tell children to dissuade them from misbehaving. You had ignored the stories as nothing more than what they were made for — they were just that, stories.  Oh, how you were wrong.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☽☾ Incubus!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☽☾ 3.2k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☽☾ Dark themes, mildly dubious consent in the beginning ჻჻჻ SMUT: Monsterfucking, oral (F recieving) unprotected, possessive piv, multiple, forced orgasms, so much dirty talk ჻჻჻ KINKS: Somnophilia, praise, choking, breeding
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ☽☾ Well, this was originally not in my wheelhouse, but here I am. ☽☾ A very big thank you to @buckyismybicycle for her help on this and looking it over and being a cheerleader — appreciate you so much, babe! ☽☾ Check out the beautiful and awesome art that @mxaether made for Incubus!Bucky!
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ☽☾ Hellfire by Barns Courtney ☽☾ Demons by Hayley Kiyoko
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☽☾ @the-slumberparty's week 4 moodboard challenge — Masterlist
𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑵 ☽☾ 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍, 𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍.
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𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Nightmares were something you weren’t all too familiar with. Sure, you had a few here and there, but it never persisted beyond what you could settle with a simple breathing exercise you had learnt to loosen the vice in your chest. 
What was abnormal, however, was the fact you dreamt non-stop of a towering figure that never moved from the shadows in the corners of your room. Its wings, blackened like soot, and two horns that wound and curled up towards your ceiling made the creature’s stature all the more intimidating. You couldn’t be sure if you had imagined it right, but you swore there was a tail somewhere in the mix too. 
It unnerved you to no end — to the point you had started to be afraid to fall asleep without a light on. 
The day had passed much too fast for your liking. Your job had been tedious, testing your limited patience to no end, and dammit all, you were looking forward to curling up under the blankets on your bed, and getting some damn sleep. 
Dinner was uneventful, if you discounted the shadow you kept seeing out of the corner of your eyes that moved whenever you moved. “Losing my damn mind,” you muttered, frustrated.
A sudden stab of fear made your heart stutter in its rhythm, and the dish in your hand fell to the sink with a loud clatter. Your breathing turned fast, sharp gasps for air as you looked around your kitchen and into the shadows of the hallway. “I swear to-” A spark of heat spread through your body when your eyes glanced over where your bedroom door lay wide open. It lit up along your skin in crackles and zaps of electricity – with it, came the uncontrollable urge to clench your thighs together. 
“What the fuck!”
Your exclamation echoed in your empty home, and the feeling of being watched settled heavy in your stomach, joining the simmering warmth.
“No, I’m not doing this,” you said, shuffling around the kitchen and haphazardly throwing your dishes in the dishwasher to slam it closed. “I need some fucking sleep.”
The soft sheets of your bed made you sigh in relief, they were cool, a nice contrast to your warm, feverish skin. It was an easy assumption that maybe you had developed a cold, or flu, so you brushed it off in favour of burrowing into your pillow with a heavy breath, and sleep took you not long after you closed your eyes. 
Your dreams were flashes of that creature, of tongues and sharp teeth carving their need onto your skin and making a home; becoming one with it, connected in a way that would make a sinner sweat.
It was late, well into the night, when dread joined the mix of nerves and arousal in your stomach. The sourness woke you and your eyes fluttered, just as a weight settled on the back of your thighs. 
“So fucking pretty, sweet thing,” a voice purred. “I might keep you.”
What the fuck.
You tried to squirm, your stomach brushing against the mattress. Stomach — You were not a stomach sleeper. “No- No, get off of me!”
“Aw,” the voice cooed, an octave lower and you hated how it sent a chill up your spine, the instinct to stop moving and bare your throat in submission shrouded your better judgement to run–run and not look back. “Don’t get all shy on me now, sugar.” 
There was a slight hiss to the words, the weight on your thighs lifted, and with it, you took a breath. “You were callin’ me in your sleep, squirming all over the bed with the need to be fucked and filled.”
What in the actual fuck. 
“You were, sweet thing,” the voice purred, having sensed your budding denial, and its face finally came into view. It was all you could do to not cry out in shock — it was the creature in your dream! Horned, winged, and pointed teeth- “I can fucking smell you, I know you want it just as bad as I need it.”
“What the fuck-” You gasped. The creature grinned, pointed fangs and forked tongue bright in the light cast from the bedside lamp. Its eyes were an icy blue, disappearing fast behind a black veil — its irises were bleeding into the whites of its eyes and- “What are you?”
“Just an Incubus, sugar. You had a lil’ bit too much fun as a teenager and I’ve been following you since. After all,” it said, shrugging a shoulder before leaning in close. “Not everyone is as silly as you, summoning something like me.”
Your mind reeled back to that stupid sleepover when you were in your late teens, mucking around with Ouija boards and everything a teenager should not do. “Oh, god,” you groaned. 
“Oh, no, honey, not God,” the Incubus purred, pressing his heated lips to your temple. “It’s Bucky.”
The world froze, the axis jarring to a stop and you stared wide-eyed up at the Incubus — Bucky — horror struck. He seemed to sense your sudden terror and his brows furrowed, black eyes glinting in the warm light. “What is it, honey? Don’t wanna be sweet for me no more?”
“Please don’t hurt me.”
Bucky looked affronted, as much as a fucking demon could, anyway. “Hurt you?” 
He moved off you like he was burned and moved to lay next to you — though you still could not move. “I won’t hurt you,” he breathed, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. “I only want to fuck you senseless, tha’s all.”
“How romantic,” you huffed. Bucky barked a laugh and you watched his forked tongue while it wet his lips, unable to help but think about what it would feel like —
“Oh, sweet thing, you keep thinking like that and I won’t be able to control myself.” Bucky’s nostrils flared and his eyes glinted dangerously, making you gulp. “Go on, tell me.”
“You can read minds?”
Bucky shook his head, his long hair swaying with the movement. “No, but I can smell just how fucking wet you are, and your eyes-” he paused, as if to prove his point and licked his lips again. You watched helplessly, ensnared and desperate to know. “You’re watching every single move I make.” The bastard finished with a dangerous smirk; the tip of his fang just visible. 
You couldn’t help it — you shivered. Bucky shifted closer and to your surprise, placed his lips on yours softly and moved his tongue past your lips. It was heaven, and your cunt clenched around nothing, forcing a sound from your throat that you’d never even heard before. 
The kiss ended far too soon and you whined, but Bucky shushed you. “Nuh-uh, patience, sweet thing.” Bucky moved to sit up and then stand from your bed which turned cold without his presence. 
“Wait, don’t go-” You tried, but Bucky was already walking towards the corner of the room, the shadow where he had hidden for years. 
“I will be back, sugar,” Bucky purred, a small wink thrown your way. “You just get some rest, sweet thing, I need you to have enough energy to cope with what I am gonna do to you tomorrow night.”
A click of his fingers, and you were out like a light. 
The next day dragged impossibly slow, but you felt surprisingly energetic, a rubber band of tension that would snap without even a second's notice. Bucky had said he would be back, and the sun had started to set, casting an orange and pink glow through your bedroom window. It would be night soon.
It was surprising, though, when you had the intense urge to sleep just as you moved to lay down in your bed, a sudden exhaustion settling deep in your bones. The last thought you could muster before your eyes closed was a fleeting hope that Bucky would be back — you were desperate to know what he had planned, consequences be damned. 
Your dreams were the same, tongue and teeth, wings and horns, all of which belonged to Bucky — blackened and tainted with lust.
Shuffling sounds came from the corner of your room and you only just registered it when heavy weight settled on your thighs again, but you couldn’t open your eyes. You could hear them breathing, a soft steady rhythm, and then you felt something brush your leg. “Wha- Oh!”
A heat like no other lapped at your core and you groaned, pushing back against whatever it was. You had enough wits about you to look over your shoulder to see horns and a set of ruffled wings. “Oh, fuck, Bucky!”
In lieu of an answer, Bucky forced his tongue deeper in your cunt and you keened, arching your back so your ass was higher in the air. A low growl vibrated against your clit at your sudden movement and you gasped. “Don’t stop- Ah! Oh, fuck me, Bucky!”
The forked tongue you had dreamed of pulled away, and you whined loudly at the loss. “Hold on, sweet thing,” Bucky soothed, voice low and honeyed. You looked back over your shoulder again and gasped, his chin was covered in slick and a predatory grin that sent a sharp spike of heat straight to your core. “Get on your back for me.”
You hastened to obey and sprawled on the bed, watching as Bucky crawled back up to nestle between your thighs. “Grab-” He commanded as he grabbed your hands and placed them on his horns, “-hold.” He grinned and dived back into your cunt with a low moan, and you groaned back. It was like having every thought, every dream come to life. 
“Oh! Bucky, there!” You yelled, your entire body pulling taut. Bucky’s tongue had just found what he had been desperately searching for, and like hell was he going to let the discovery go to waste. “Fuck- Ah! Ah, Bucky! Please!”
The tension snapped, and you screamed to the ceiling, jerking and twitching while Bucky continued to lap at that spot through the aftershocks only to trigger another. Chants of his name and a litany of curses filled the air until they turned into whimpers and weak moans. 
You pushed back against his horns when it became too much, and he obliged, pulling away with that same wolfish grin. “Hey there, sugar,” he purred, and you moaned weakly, gesturing for him to move up your body. “Miss me?”
“Fuck me,” you gasped, pulling him in for a bruising kiss that he returned in earnest. The taste of yourself on his tongue only sent another shiver of desperate need down your spine. “Please, please I need it-”
“I will fuck you, sweet thing,” Bucky simpered. He moved and attacked the column of your throat, his teeth scraping against every spot that made you sing. “I will, but I wanna make you desperate. Hearing you beg, baby,” he sighed and pulled back to loom over you. The hand that had been next to your head suddenly wrapped around your throat, his thumb tilting your chin up so you would be exposed. The sight seemed to tear at his restraint, if his darkening eyes were anything to go off of. “It’s so fucking good, honey. I wanna hear you beg for my cock.”
“Plea-”
“Not tonight, sugar, I tired you out.” Before you could whine in protest, Bucky clicked his fingers and you fell into a deep sleep, sated and exhausted. 
Two nights passed by without a sign from Bucky. There were no shadows, there were no heavy feelings deep in your gut, it was just nothing. You supposed the good night’s sleep you’d been having for the past couple days were his doing, but it did nothing to abate the tension that had ruthlessly settled in your core. 
Bucky had promised to fuck you, and he had disappeared. 
It wasn’t that you were disappointed — hell, you couldn’t lie, you were, but you missed him. Everything seemed to be okay when he was around, and you missed his company. 
The sun had started to set, and you had decided to dress in just a long night shirt because that odd feverish heat had settled over you again, your skin too hot to bear. You were confused on how that would have come about, you weren’t sniffling, nor expelling a lung with violent coughing fits, no — you were healthy, and normal. If you didn’t count how insanely aroused you had been the past two days.
Sleep settled over you like every night before, and the same dreams played on repeat.
“Oh, look at you, honey,” a voice whispered in the shadows. You didn’t register it, but the figure moved closer. Whimpers and moans were coming from the bed and the atmosphere turned heated, consumed in fire. “Oh, sugar,” they whispered again. 
Your dream changed suddenly to visions of someone moving you on your stomach and then moving your legs, and your legs moved apart on instinct, your ass titling up with the angle. Someone inhaled deeply and moved behind you in the dream, it was a shadow, not discernible in shape or form, and as it neared you squirmed against the hold it had. “Ready for me, huh?” The figure leant over you and you squirmed again, pushing against the billowing heat. “Such a good girl for me. You can wake up now, sweet thing.”
Fire enveloped you and you gasped awake, pinned and unable to move for the weight above you and being speared on a huge cock. “Hey, honey.”
“Oh, my-”
“I know,” Bucky soothed, his voice so low and deep it reverberated in your bones. “Taking it so well, honey. Such a good girl for me,” his voice ended in a sigh and you felt him move forward, slowly and only slightly, but it felt like he was carving his way through and splitting you in half. “Lookatchu,” he purred, leaning close and breathing hotly on your neck. “I told you I’d fuck you.”
Words failed you. Your walls pulsed and Bucky hissed. “I haven’t even started and you’re close,” his tone was sly, mocking — dangerous. “You gonna come for me, sweet thing?”
You whined and nodded. “Please, move- Ah!”
Bucky surged forward and latched onto your throat, sucking harshly and pushing further into your wet heat until he was seated to the hilt. “You’re gonna take it, and you’re gonna say thank you, aren’t you, sugar?”
“Thank you- Oh, fuck, thank you-”
“Good girl.”
The pace was brutal, each thrust punched a high keen or moan from your lips and you could feel Bucky grin each time. A hand wound its way around your throat, forcing your head back so you could just see Bucky’s horns. “Bucky- Please, I can’t-”
“Yeah, you fucking will,” Bucky panted into your ear, speeding up his thrusts. “You’re going to take it, and you’re going to come.”
You wailed and Bucky hummed quietly, shuffling in his stance, then you screamed. The angle had changed and now every time he fucked into you was right against that spot. “There it is, sugar,” Bucky growled, gripping your throat tighter. “Come for me. Scream for me, go on.”
Incoherent babble escaped you as the pleasure surged and exploded, your thighs shook with the force and you went limp, at the mercy of the throes of blinding pleasure Bucky had given you—was still giving you, because he had not stopped. 
“Tha’s it, baby,” Bucky cooed, slowing just a second so he could kiss your sweat slicked temple, almost lovingly. “Did so good for me, such a good girl.” His pace picked up again and you mewled. “Gimme another one, honey, then I’m gonna fucking fill you.”
“Oh fuck,” you gasped before Bucky wrenched you up by the throat, his grip iron tight. 
“Beg. Beg for me,” Bucky moaned, his thrusts not slowing or stopping. “Tell me how good I fuck you, sugar.”
It’s a good thing you weren’t going to the pearly gates, because hell had swallowed you up, and he was in you — fucking you senseless, just as he promised. 
“S’good, Bucky, fuck,” you breathed, hiccuping with the force of his thrusts. “Don’t stop- Ah!”
“I think I’m gon’ keep you, sweet thing,” Bucky said, his breath hot on your throat. “Fuck you and fill you whenever I want- You want that don’t you, honey?” At his words, you tightened like a vice and forced his hips to stutter. “Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me.”
Tears began to fall and you sobbed, overwhelmed and on the edge again. “Please, I’m-”
“You gonna come again for me, honey?” 
You nodded fervently and pushed back as best you could against his thrusts. The sudden pressure of his hand against your stomach startled a gasp from you, and the roaring fire intensified tenfold — it was unbearable, you were gonna implode. 
“Go on, sugar, come for me.”
Amidst the earth-shattering orgasm he had ripped from you, Bucky had forced you down flat against the bed, and fucked you hard into the mattress. His arms were wrapped tight around your chest and stomach while his tail wrapped around your thigh, nestling itself at your clit. The constant flick and pressure made your vision white out. “You feel so fucking good, baby, fuck-” Bucky moaned, going impossibly harder, faster— “‘M gonna fill you, make you mine.”
“I want it! Please, I want it, Bucky!”
Bucky’s hips stuttered and a shout echoed around the room, followed by the intense heat of his seed filling you and leaking out with the shallow pump of his cock. The pressure forced another climax from your exhausted body and you moaned, trying your best to squirm and push yourself back against his pelvis. 
“Don’t move,” Bucky growled, still thrusting slowly. You complied and fell limp against the mattress and in his arms. 
A sudden jolt in your heat made you cry out and tremble, grabbing weakly at the sheets. “Wha-” 
Bucky nuzzled against your cheek and it happened again, ripping a weak moan from you. “You’re mine.”
It happened again, and this time right against that spot. “Bucky!” You came weakly, shaking and squirming in Bucky’s hold. 
“Easy, sugar, that’s just the barbs.”
“Bar- Oh!” Bucky had rolled his hips just as you began to speak and you shuddered. “What the fuck?”
Bucky didn’t answer, he only pulled you impossibly closer and sighed happily. “You’re mine.”
You’re mine. 
The words caused a rush of affection and you took a deep breath, feeling how tight he held you, like you were precious. “I’m yours?” You asked, suddenly nervous. “How-” Bucky cut you off with a bruising kiss that you returned, just as heatedly. 
A reckless feeling flooded you, having never been one to go against the norm; always following rules, not really having fun, everything that led you to be in the stalemate that was your life. You pulled away from Bucky’s lips and hushed him when he whined quietly, chasing your lips. 
“Take me, Bucky.” He looked at you and blinked, a slow blink that told you he hadn’t expected that. “Take me, I’m yours. I want you.”
That wolfish grin returned, and his tongue ran over his lips, considering. “I can do that, sweet thing.”
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⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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cryptotheism · 5 months
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Reading The Gnostic Gospels, and boy, Elaine Pagels really loves her exclamation points! (!)
Pop-Historians are allowed to use exclamation points. It makes us sound chipper! Pagels is a "real historian" but we let her dabble in our rhetorical arts.
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neo-my-geo · 7 months
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Hey gang, it’s your old pal Neo here. If you know me, it’s probably from one of the several very stupid TF2 comics I’ve posted to Tumblr.
However! I am also an English major (unfortunately). One who has read millions of words worth of fanfiction in their life. I have been part of the Sherlock, BNHA, Disco Elysium, and, of course, TF2 fandoms; I’ve been around the block.
The further I’ve progressed into my English education, the more I’ve noticed which mistakes are the most common in fanfiction. Many of them are easily fixable; writers just need to be pointed in the right direction. 
“Neo! Does this mean you think people shouldn’t be allowed to post their works online without a background in formal English education?”
Of course not! I can explain why if you’d care to venture below the cut with me!
Yes, I will explain how to use commas.
It’s important to note that this is NOT a post about formal writing. You aren’t writing an essay. Please, for the love of god, do not write fiction like you’re writing an essay.
There are no stakes to writing fanfic. No one is going to get hurt if an author doesn’t know what a dangling participle is. One of my favourite things about fanfiction is that it’s one of the only art forms left that’s done exclusively for fun! You should write what you enjoy, and share what you make with like-minded people. 
What I want to do is provide assistance as best I can to writers who want to improve their fundamentals without having to take the same university courses I did. Nobody is going to be getting a formal education to write fanfiction unless they’re ridiculously dedicated, and I’m not expecting that of anyone. 
The point I need to stress is that knowing these grammar fundamentals can instantly improve the flow of your writing. Punctuation is a ridiculously important tool for writers, ESPECIALLY in fiction. Commas, semicolons, and full stops (including periods, exclamation points, and question marks) steer the pacing in the reader’s mind; did you notice how your brain stopped for a second after that semicolon? I can show you how to do that.
You may be wondering why I’m going through so much effort to teach all of this to strangers on the internet. The answer is that I enjoy sharing this knowledge with others and helping them grow. By seeing this, my goal is to help you become more proficient at self-editing. Showing this to people who actually want to learn will, hopefully, benefit the community as a whole, and I think that’s very worth it. 
Also, while this post is obviously themed around TF2, the points I’m making can be applied to any fiction. Grammar is for everyone, and the church of the semicolon always has room for more initiates. 
Also also, as an edit, I should clarify that this is meant to cover the more objective facets of self-editing, which is why I'm mostly covering punctuation. Maybe I'll do another post about using adjectives someday.
With that out of the way, let’s get going!
I’ve teamed up with several English teachers (real ones! One of which may or may not be my mom!) and an editor to gather a list of the most common problems we see in amateur fiction. This post is going to be split into three broad sections: apostrophes, commas/semicolons, and other common problems. 
The apostrophe
This section is short, but it holds weight. Other than commas, apostrophes are the most typoed grammatical tool in any fanfiction I’ve edited. This is because, much like the rest of English, the rules surrounding them can be annoying and inconsistent. 
Apostrophes have two main uses: possessives and conjunctions.
A possessive is a word that denotes the ownership of one thing over another. The vast majority of the time, this is done using an apostrophe and an S.
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There is, however, one glaring exception to this rule, and it’s the bane of my existence. 
When denoting possession of an object over something else while using the pronoun ‘it,’ you do NOT add an apostrophe before the S.
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A conjunction, on the other hand, is when a writer uses an apostrophe to combine two words. The following are examples of common conjunctions:
What’s (what is)
They’re (they are)
It’s (it is)
Conjunctions are not often used in formal writing. Thankfully, we aren’t dealing in formal writing. Go crazy.
Time for a lightning round of the most commonly mistaken for each other possessives and conjunctions!
Your is possessive. You’re is a conjunction of ‘you’ and ‘are.’ When you can’t decide which one to use, imagine replacing it with ‘you are’ and seeing if it makes sense. If it doesn’t, use your.
Their is possessive. There indicates a location. They’re is a conjunction of ‘they’ and ‘are.’ 
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The comma and the semicolon
You knew it was coming. I knew it was coming. It’s time to talk about commas.
Commas and semicolons are far and away the biggest grammatical hole in the toolset of fanfiction writers everywhere. They’re often treated like the rules surrounding them are complicated and difficult to understand, but the exact opposite is true! 
The big issue I’ve heard time and time again is that the rules of commas are often explained through metaphor instead of example; this means that writers everywhere have slightly different ideas of how you’re supposed to use them. The fact of the matter is that, yes, there are correct and incorrect ways to use commas. Knowing when they’re appropriate and when they aren’t is easily the fastest way to bring your writing from looking amateurish to sounding professional and experienced. 
In order to know how to use a comma, you must first understand the difference between a dependent and an independent clause. 
An independent clause is a section of writing that functions perfectly well as its own sentence. It MUST have both a subject and an action/verb.
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A sentence without an independent clause is known as a fragment, and they’re the bane of English teachers with highlighters everywhere. 
A dependent clause is a section of writing that does not have both a subject and an action; it does not function as its own sentence.
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Now, let’s say you want to combine the two. When joining a dependent clause to an independent clause, the order in which they are placed is crucial to whether you use a comma or not. 
When joining a dependent to an independent with the independent clause first, you do not need to use a comma.
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When joining a dependent to an independent with the dependent clause first, you MUST use a comma. 
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Keep in mind that, if one strives for total grammatical perfection, all narrative sentences MUST have an independent clause. This, however, does not apply to dialogue. Human beings do not think about whether what they’re saying is a dependent clause, and neither would the vast majority of fictional characters. Don’t be afraid to break the rules of grammar as long as it’s contained within quotation marks. 
Alright, that’s the easy part. Time to learn about joining two independent clauses. It’s semicolon time, baby!
If you join two independent clauses without properly using a comma or a semicolon, it is a run-on sentence. You do not want these in your writing. They’re awkward to read and mess up the flow.
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When joining two independent clauses, you can use EITHER a comma or a semicolon. You just need to follow these rules:
If you’re joining two independent clauses with a comma, you MUST use a joining word (and, but, so, etc.) AFTER the comma. 
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If you’re joining two independent clauses with a semicolon, you do NOT need to use a joining word.
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Did you know that a sentence with a comma counts as its own independent clause? This means that you can make a sentence that includes a mix of both without it being a run-on! Just make sure that, no matter what, the semicolon is between two independent clauses. 
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Still, try not to write more than two clauses in a sentence too often. Sentences with a lot of punctuation are very attention-grabbing, but shouldn’t be overused. Full stops aren’t your enemy and variety is the spice of life. 
It’s also important to remember that you should avoid using more than one comma in a clause (with the exception of the rule below). That part loops back to the 'avoiding run-ons' bit.
It’s really that easy! 
Commas are also used in informal writing to inject a separate thought or descriptor mid-sentence without breaking the flow by adding a period. This is often used when describing the perspective of a character experiencing something in a story, but not (usually) when using omniscient perspectives. 
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The final issue I frequently see with commas in fanfiction is in regards to dialogue. Sometimes you end it with them, and sometimes you don’t. What gives? 
Well, my friend, the answer is, thankfully, much simpler than the previous section.
When following dialogue with a dialogue tag, use a comma instead of a full stop. If you’re continuing the previous sentence after the tag, use a comma after it as well. 
Note that a dialogue tag is a short phrase that identifies the speaker. It isn’t a complete sentence on its own.
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When following dialogue with an action that does not serve as a dialogue tag, use a full stop instead of a comma. 
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Other common problems
This section is dedicated to putting specific grammatical errors into words, along with how to solve them. 
Not sticking to the chosen point of view
Always choose your point of view before you start. Is it in the first, second, or third person? Is it omniscient or limited? Does the point of view switch during the story?
First person perspective is told as if the POV character is directly describing their experience to the reader. The character uses I and we to describe their own actions.
Second person perspective is told as if the reader is a character in the story and their actions are being described to them. This is the rarest, and the most difficult to write.
Third person perspective is the most common and the simplest to write. The events of the story are a separate entity from the reader altogether and the narrator uses they/he/she/it pronouns for characters. 
Omniscient perspective means the narrator of the story knows all, including the thoughts and feelings of each character. 
Limited perspective means the narrator of the story only knows what the POV character knows. 
Past and present tense
When you decide between writing a story in past or present tense, it is crucial that you do not switch between them unless it is narratively intentional. Reading a past tense story that mistakenly switches to the present tense is like being pulled out of the room someone is telling a story in and suddenly taking part in it yourself. It’s disorienting and gives the reader unwanted pause.
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Overly-long paragraphs
A common adage spread by English teachers is that most paragraphs should be at least eight sentences long. This is great advice for beginner essays. You’re writing fiction. 
If you have a new thought, start a new paragraph! A concise and well-read single-sentence paragraph is infinitely better than one that drags a thought for too long. Aim to have a blend of paragraph lengths when you write, alternating between the descriptive and the punctual. 
Dangling participles
A dangling participle is when a word is used to describe a noun that isn’t actually present in the sentence. Much like how a sentence without an action isn’t grammatically correct, neither is a sentence without a subject. 
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Malapropisms
A malapropism is when an author mistakenly uses one word or phrase instead of another similar-sounding one. I’m not about to list every single malapropism ever made, but these are the ones I notice most often:
To comprehend is to understand something, to apprehend is to arrest someone, and to be apprehensive is to be anxious or fearful of something bad happening.
Could care less means you do care. Couldn’t care less means you don’t.
A lot means a large amount of something. Alot isn’t a word and you shouldn’t use it.
The only real solution to using malapropisms is to make sure you fully understand any words you use in your writing. Never guess, and make sure you always google it. Having beta readers also helps.
If you made it this far, congratulations! You now know the most common errors in amateur fiction and how to solve them! Thank you for listening to me complain for two thousand words. 
The most important thing to remember is that it’s okay to make mistakes. First drafts are always gonna be a little bad. The real key to success is knowing what your end goal is, and how you plan on achieving it. Here’s hoping this was a helpful tool for that!
Shoutout to @salmonandsoup for helping me think of the list of issues to address! You're a real one. Also shoutout to my mom, who doesn't have Tumblr. Also the third person. You know who you are.
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