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#not even inspired to think of a title

carnivalcarriondiscarded · 11 months

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Okay so I've been eating your art for a few days? Weeks? Months? Ever since I found you through my Welcome Home hyperfixation help it has me in it's death grips and just, admiring all the details you put into your pieces?

Like, I can't tag every little detail I come across and like from what you post, because I would be too distracting from the contents of the post and my gushing and speculating derived from that alone, but I see and like them even if I don't say too much about it.

For instance, don't think I didn't see the grime at the edges of Frank's frown and mouth in your Lights Out AU post! It is such a small detail to notice, but it really sells the idea of the puppets becoming grimy, scruffy, and dirtier as time goes on and they are stuck in the dark with little to nothing to clean themselves. I feel like it is most noticeable with their hair, as my gosh do they all need a hair brush by the time we see the group interactions of the unlikely four, but I enjoy seeing their disheveled selves as they try to go through life in the dark. While I won't pick up on every little detail, the stuff I do see is really interesting a think about, that you didn't need to add it but you did because you enjoyed making it l, and it's pretty heartwarming in a way for me you know?

Anyways, as a fellow artist, it's both cool and concerning because I get the gist of how much time and energy it can take to make stuff! I enjoy and adore your art and thoughts a ton, just remember to take care of yourself and not to push too hard on yourself to make stuff! Stretch and drink water, etc etc etc, and remember there are always people who will like what you make, be it dragons, welcome home stuff, and oc thingies!

AH IM

WHY ARE ALL OF YOU SO NICE!!! MY STUNTED EMOTIONS CANT HANDLE IT!!!! no but seriously i had to take a break reading this to walk through my house and Simmer Down bc man... the reaction pic is accurate.... i made Several dying animal noises!

i'm beyond happy that the details are being Noticed and are Enjoyable! i like to include as many as i can (when i Think of them, which happens less often than i'd like). i rarely have it in me to scribble Full Things, so i try to make up for it with the little things! it seems to be working, yippee! and it Is fun to include them, yeah <3

you take care of yourself as well! actually, get some water as soon as you read this. All Of Ya's. im takin a hefty sip rn so you all better get hydrated with me. no diedrating on this blog no sirree!! but yes um thank you so much for the very kind ask! mentally i am printing it out and pinning it to my wall! i will be thinking about it every time i Add Little Details!

#also pls dont hold back in the tags on my account or others #they are Lifeblood <3 #plus i just like to hear other people's thoughts!!! and id love to hear What You See And Get Out Of It!#& who knows you might even inspire something #tagged comments can do wonders yk yk #you would not be distracting In The Least <3 #rambles from the bog #also i like that title... The Unlikely Four... i will be referring to that group as such from now on!#and i Will say... the grime on frank's mouth is Grime but its not exactly natural....#also hello! i dont think ive said that yet!#i recognize you from my notifs! you're one of the regulars whom i see and mentally tip my hat to whenever i catch sight of your icon #& i cannot help you. wh has me in its grip as well #none of us are getting out! yippee yahoo hawyee!

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madamairlock · 9 months

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Well, I promised @theshadowsedges (from the shadowrealm still, sadly) that I’d post some fluff or smut without feels. I truly didn’t intend for it tonight, but I had an idea and @caitylove talked me through writing it.

#is there a rating above explicit?#I feel like this should just be straight xxx #like goddamn even I’m surprised #battlegal #BSG #battlestar galactica #Kaitlin writes #spaceparents #here there be smut #so much smut oh my gods #I think I’m gonna make a playlist of all the songs I’ve used for titles/inspiration #curious to see if there’s any patterns

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creationsabyss · 1 year

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It Is In Death You Shall Find Peace (I Pray That The Living Will Haunt You No More)

A small piece inspired by @m1d-45. I realize this is might be a little morbid for new years but I'm sick so I'm going to blame my inability to read social cues on that. Also I really had fun writing this.

You are prey in this game

Skittish and timid

Gentle and kind

They are the hunters

The predators that prowl

Hunting for your head

You are the hunted

But you are a human

Albeit one twice wronged

Hailed by the world as its God

And accused of malicious imitations

You are capable of reason

And of surrender

Powerless against the powerful

You can run

And you can hide

But you may never win

So the choice is made

Though you find it cruel

Once beloved characters

You built with time and love

From ashes to gold

And from indignity to glory

Now shall stand as your executioner

And be commended by the masses

For being the one to slay you

With the power you earned them

And the weapons you gave

They shall be your end

You find it cruel

And a tad ironic

But perhaps

If it is your favored

Death will be just a little bit kinder

#poetry #the ramblings of a mad god #genshin impact inspired #slight sagau #imposter sagau #implied death #realistically none of us would have a chance against most of the characters and especially not against those that we built #canonically they're very strong already and we just made them even more so #yes this is a poem about the reader surrendering rather than running #titles are still very hard to make #I think it fits alright though #implied angst

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writing-good-vibes · 1 year

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loving you is like loving the dead (or fucking the dead)

y'all are going to hate me for this one 😈 corey has a sick little fantasy he wants to play out with michael.

big, big, big WARNING this time readers, for corey x michael, smut, age gap relationship (though it's not brought up), psuedo-necrophilia (no one is actually dead), autonecrophilia (again, no one is dead), ice baths, slightly unsafe kink practices (because corey has no idea what he's doing), heavy mentions of suicide and past suicidal ideation. dead dove; do not eat.

divider by @/firefly-graphics.

“I wanna try something,” Corey says, keeping his eyes on the outdated TV set at the foot of the motel bed while it crackles with static; a fierce wind outside meddling with the reception.

They’d been on the road for a few days, sleeping in the truck on the side of the road when they had to, and never for long. Lucky for them, there was only one attendant at the last gas station they stopped at, and it wasn’t difficult to clear out the till. Corey found he could be rather persuasive these days, particularly with Michael’s fear-inducing presence close by. Even without the mask – or, perhaps, especially without the mask, Michael was a cutting figure. The kind of man people trip over themselves to avoid. Either way, they had enough cash for a night in a motel, maybe even two if they found somewhere cheap enough.

Michael, doesn’t say anything, but his head tilts minutely in Corey’s direction from where he had been focused on the staticky TV screen, showing his apparent attention.

“Like…” Corey thinks of how to word it in a way Michael will understand. “Like play-pretend.”

Once again, no response, but he knows Michael is listening. He leans up on his elbows from where he was reclined beside the older man. “Play-pretend where you’re the killer, and I get to be the corpse.”

Corey had thought a lot about being dead. After the accident, they’d put him on anti-anxiety meds. His psychiatrist said he wasn’t coping. There’s talk of adding antidepressants to his prescription, but when he doesn’t talk much in his sessions, they’re worried it’ll do more harm than good. He overhears his psychiatrist telling Momma to keep an eye on him. Six months later and momma had got sick of all this psychology talk – “You’re fine, Corey. These doctors, they don’t know what they’re talking about, trying to dose you up with God-knows-what and putting silly ideas in your head. It’s hurting you, Corey. Now, listen to your mother, I know what’s best for you.” – and stopped paying for his refills.

He'd stopped taking them anyway, leaving the half-full orange pill bottle to gather dust at the back of the bathroom cabinet. They’d never helped his nerves, even when things were at their worst. Besides the therapy appointments, he didn’t leave the house for months. Not with the way people stared at him, the way they shouted at him across parking lots and while he waited in line with Momma at the grocery store. She warded most of them off, but it didn’t change anything. The acquittal had stopped him going to jail, but he was already damned.

The first time he went back to the Allen house was on Halloween. The surviving Allens had abandoned it after the trial; Corey wasn’t sure where they’d moved to, but he somehow knew they were still in Haddonfield. It had been a whole year since Jeremy had died and nothing had changed, Corey’s blood pumped through his veins so harshly he could hear it in his ears, just like he had that night. The house is empty, stripped of everything bar the piano in the front room and some clothes hangers in the closets. Corey checked every room, he didn’t know what for, until he got to the attic. That was the first time he tried.

By no means the first time he’d thought about it, though. No, he’d been thinking about it. He’d spent a disturbing amount of time thinking about it. But as he climbed over the railing, looking between his sneakers at the long drop and sudden stop, he really thinks he could do it. He thinks about it for a long time, but his fingers never loosen their grip on the banister and his feet stay planted between the spindles.

It happens more often than Corey knows is normal. He goes to the Allen house and climbs over the third-floor railing and looks down. He wonders how many times it’ll take until one day he just lets go. Not that it matters, he thinks. Falling would just be the final nail in the coffin; he feels as good as dead already. A cold, empty body in a cold, empty house.

When he gets home afterwards, he always uses the back door. He has every creaky floorboard memorised, and he’s almost silent as he passes Momma and Ronald’s room. She never even notices he’s missing; he knows she doesn’t because if she did there’d be bars on his windows and a new lock on the back door before he even woke up in the morning.

That all seems so long ago. These days, he’s never felt more alive. The longing he once had has been replaced with a sick curiosity to have just a taste of what he had wanted so badly back then.

Corey shivers as soon as he steps into the tub, full to the brim with cold water and ice that he had to run out to the icebox for.

Michael watches from the bathroom doorway, arms relaxed by his sides, as though Corey trying to freeze himself into a corpse is nothing out of the ordinary.

The shower curtain isn’t pulled over, and displaced water and chunks of ice spill over the side of the bath, splashing and skidding across the cracked tile floor when Corey lowers himself into the makeshift ice bath, wincing when his balls tighten as he submerges himself. Corey sinks down further, up to his shoulders and a shocked gasp leaves him, making it sound like he’s been winded. His muscles start to spasm as his body tries to maintain its own heat.

There’s a cup of ice sweating away on the counter next to the sink. Corey tips some into his mouth and rolls it around with his tongue, pressing another ice cube to his lips until it hurts, then keeps it there longer still.

He doesn’t think it’ll work but he props a leg up on the edge of the tub and shoves an ice cube up himself. He’s already slick with Vaseline, having prepped himself in bed while Michael sat and watched Jeopardy. Now the ice surrounding him was nothing compared to how cold his fucking insides suddenly felt. Corey cringes, his hips bucking as he clenches around the uncomfortable intrusion. He crunches on the ice in his mouth to distract himself. “Have to wait for it to melt inside,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

Michal watches with that faint sort of fascination he has for most things which he does not personally understand, yet are intriguing enough for him to consider.

While they wait, Corey grips the rim of the bath, fingers sore with cold-cramp. How did he get here? Jumping from the top storey. Overdosing on his meds. Slitting his wrists with Laurie’s knife. Hanging himself by the belt he’d stopped wearing. No, no. Those days are long gone. Now he’d just use Michael. “How did you kill me?” Corey asks.

Michael is silent. His head dips slightly, like he’s looking the younger man up and down. He approaches, crossing the small room in two strides, before crouching next to the tub. Reaching out, his good hand circles Corey’s throat, finger and thumb pressing ominously on either side of Corey’s windpipe. Strangulation, Michael is saying. Corey should have guessed.

Corey closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, the hand on his throat is gone and Michael has retreated back to the doorway.

It’s impossible to keep track of time like this. Hours could have passed and Corey wouldn’t be able to tell. Corey’s teeth are chattering hard and when he chances a peek at the clock, he manages to let out a shaky breath. Times up. With quaking arms, he lifts himself out of the water. Dripping onto the already-wet tile. As he stands there shivering, he glances over at Michael, still stood watch stoically.

Without a word, which is no surprise, Michael keeps an arm’s length away from him and hands him one of the scratchy motel towels. Corey pats himself dry, not wanting to heat up too quickly when they haven’t even started yet. Catching sight of himself in the vanity mirror shocks him more than he thought it would. He’s pale, sickly pale, and there’s a blue hue on his lips. Every inch of him is devoid of life.

Michael’s playing ‘killer’, isn’t he, so the mask stays on this time. He closes the gap between the two of them, blackened eye holes bore into Corey. Michael's come closer to killing Corey than this, but Corey never had the chance to really play the role of ‘corpse’ then.

There’s a voice in the back of Corey’s head that says they should probably talk about this before they go any further, but before he can indulge or deny that voice, Michael wraps his hands arounds his waist and heft him into a fireman’s lift.

Oh fuck. Michael’s weathered and scarred skin feels white hot against Corey’s, his heart pounds and he doesn’t know if it’s because he wants this so fucking bad or because his body temperature has dropped so much his heartrate is working overtime. Like a ragdoll, Corey doesn’t react when Michael tosses him onto the bed, or when he spreads his legs obscenely wide.

Thick fingers dip into the Vaseline and then into Corey, almost burning hot, replacing what might have been washed away in the bath. Corey breaths shallowly, past the point of shivering now that a dense numbness has settled in his limbs.

It’s more difficult than Corey expects, pretending to be dead. He wants so badly to whimper, to moan when Michael pushes his unreasonably big cock into him. To rock his hips up to meet Michael’s. To press his blueing lips to the rotten latex of the mask. But he forces himself to be still, to make himself go limp. Michael has always been able to manhandle him, but he feels so much more vulnerable when he can’t resist. Or assist, is more like it, he thinks.

He’s used to the stretch by now, but the intensity remains each and every time. Very rarely does Corey wish Michael spoke, but right now he desperately wants to know if his insides feel as deathly cold as his outsides. If Michael’s cock is really that searing of if he’s just forgotten what warm flesh feels like.

Corey tries to suppress a moan, but the sound still rumbles in his throat and slips from his slackened mouth. Michael’s hand comes up, clamps over Corey’s cold lips and squeezes just the right side of too tight. He holds the pressure for a moment before letting go – Be quiet, you’re supposed to be dead, the gesture warns.

Corey does as he’s told. It comes as a surprise when he feels himself get hard, he’d thought he couldn’t with how cold he is, his blood vessels must have closed off, right? Freezing right down to the bone it feels like. Although corpses can stay hard, if that’s how they died, Corey thinks.

As he stares at the ceiling and lets his eyes lose focus even more, Corey’s mind wanders back to the sewer. Thinks about the day he woke up, dazed and scared, and how Michael could have killed him. Could have squeezed the life out of him and fucked him while he was still warm. Or saved him for later when he’d be cold, just like he is now, only better.

He wishes he could see what he looked like from the outside. Wants to know how depraved and disgusting they look as Michael ploughs his prone form, ice cold to the touch and unable to stop himself being defiled. His limbs really do feel stiff from the cold, and he really doesn’t think he could stop Michael even if he wanted to. That mindless bliss he feels when he can just lie there and take it is heightened by the thought of him being like this forever, his skin getting colder and his eyes clouding grey with death and Michael’s cock rocking him into an endless sleep –

Abruptly, Michael pulls out and Corey wonders what’s happening, wonders if Michael’s suddenly decided he’s not into it, before he’s flipped over. His arm is trapped at an uncomfortable angle beneath him, but he doesn’t readjust, just waits until Michael forces himself back in, half-pulling Corey back onto his cock. The rough material of Michael’s coveralls – because he is the killer, right now, not the man – chafes Corey’s freezing thighs.

Corey’s twisted arm brushes against his own cock with each thrust. It takes everything in him not to react, not to move his arm just a little so he can grasp himself with an icy hand. He resists the temptation, after all, he’s dead, isn’t he? Mind long gone and nothing useful left of him except a cold, tight hole.

Being dead feels so mind numbingly good. So, so much better than he ever imagined. Even at his worst, even when he cried himself to sleep every night. He’s so fucking glad he waited – no, that’s a lie – he’s so fucking glad he never had the guts to do it. Because if he’d offed himself back then, his body would have gone to waste.

Getting bored, or maybe Corey just makes such a pretty corpse that he should be face up, Michael flips him back over, and Corey’s gaze briefly refocus on the ceiling once again, his mouth open and wanting. The thrusts get harsher, Michael is ruthless as the best of times, and Corey certainly isn’t going to break the moment to complain. He chokes back a moan, his leg twitching involuntarily when Michael’s hips smash against his in a final moment of primal desire.

Corey comes untouched, as soon he feels the explosion of heat inside him from Michael’s own release. If anything can bring him back to life, it’s Michael.

He blinks slowly; a long, slow breath rattles his chest.

“If you fucked me like that afterwards, I really would let you kill me,” Corey says, from the cocoon of blankets he’s swaddled himself in.

The friction and exertion from their fucking had warmed him up a little by the end, but then he’d started shivering again and realised he should probably do something about it.

Michael is sat beside him on the bed, leaning against the headboard, when he turns to face Corey properly. The mask sits between them.

Whether you let me or not, I’ll do it one day, Michael is saying. And Corey knows it.

#corey cunningham #michael myers #corey cunningham x michael myers #cunningmyers #but i promise no one is actually dead #i'm sorry for all of this. well mostly sorry. a little bit sorry.#inspired partly by a line in the song sacrasm by get scared #title is from type o negative of course #disclaimer: i dont think either of them are actually *into* n/cro. but corey is trying to process some old feelings --#-- and michael doesnt have a lot of se/xual preferences. so he is willing (sometimes) to indulge corey's weirder ones #something something even if he was dead he'd want michael to want him

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tilundsetning · 1 year

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Ok, so this gif from @gifshistorical came across my dash and as Daphne’s turn of the wrong century-looking bloomers fed into my increasingly frequent thoughts of « wow, some of the underwear technology in Bridgertonland is certainly miles ahead » (Kate was wearing what looked more like 1940’s French knickers in s2, their shirts seem to button all the way down etc) and then it came to me:

Bridgerton is set in someone’s game of civilisation!

Whoever is playing has probably given up on a domination victory, so that’s why , even though this is set in the 1810’s, none of the several younger sons in the family seem to be even considering a military career.

And by not prioritising the military technologies they are moving very quickly forwards in certain areas of fashion technology (side note: I really want some sort of fashion history expansion of Civ now where you can actually choose these), so they have access to zippers and knickers and aniline dyes and plastic sequins. They haven’t got any « hair up or down » or « difference between daywear and eveningwear » civics in play, but they there’s some sort of Victorian sex ed for girls thing instead.

This also explains the « oh, no, we totally used to have racism too, but we solved that like 15-20 years ago » vibe - that’s when they got the totally colourblind society-civic!

#bridgerton #Bridgerton tv #I’ve never read the books so idk if it applies to them #I suppose it works with other historically inspired things #or just historical inaccuracies in general #but the Bridgerton take on regency made me think of it so #civilisation #also I’ve only seen the show once months ago #so I might be misremembering things #but there are basically no officers in uniform or even officer titles being mentioned right?#the only uniform I remember is that Prussian (?) prince

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spoonietimelordy · 2 years

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OK I know I said that I wouldn't talk about the terf's book but I've seen more screenshots and it's actually scary how much she is stalking us, and I'm not exagerating. I've never seen a character so similar to me before and it has to be the bad guy of her book. What the actual fuck.

#charlie is rambling #it's trans disabled character with chronic pain pots and who live on tumblr #anyone who say that she is just ignorant now is a fucking fool #like i think they're autistic too and obviously has spoons in their tumblr title #I wouldn't even be surprised if I was actually part of the people she took inspiration from here #i can't even put tw in the tag because i dont want her supporters or her to see this #fuck

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applesauce1131 · 2 years

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"This is a place for the military and their family. We know life can be hard for them so this a place we can all gather and talk about our struggles! We're all military so we all get it. You're welcome to come a work through your struggles and trauma ❤️"

*talks about their struggles and trauma*

"Why would you go off like that? You ruined the experience for a new family. How dare you mention struggles you've faced?? That wasn't your place! You scared that poor family by telling them the truth! Now be the model military family you are outside of this military family group like always because you need to be a good example at all times!"

#this episode made me mad #i cant think of the title and i dont feel like looking it up #the premice was good and then they had to change their ways???#this was a support group???#yes you should have faith in God but it's not their fault another family doubted #why were they even there???#were they supposed to be inspired with how easy life was??#its not the perkins fault the other family freaked #i just... i just don't understand

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thingsmysplattershotjrtoldme · 1 year

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Honestly, I've been thinking of a dumb bit of lore with my OC's Milka and Aggie....

After the events of Story Mode, Milka ends up being fired from her job as DJ due to missing too many shifts due to her Agent duties (as well as getting called into the lobby several times due to Aggie being the gremlin she is and basically having to cut her shifts short) and because of that, she also loses the apartment that the radio let her have as part of her contract. After hearing about that, Captain 3 decides to let the two live with them, 4 and 8 in the apartment they all share (it's pretty big because Callie and Marie helped pay for it).

Somehow, Aggie finds Dedf1sh on the Splatsville streets of all places and decides that the weird green octoling digging through the trash for a meal ticket is her new best friend now and brings her into the apartment to crash on their couch.

Because all the agents do their own thing in Splatsville (Captain is still investigating Alterna, 4 is furthering their education by interning somewhere while taking online college courses, 8 is a weapon tester for Sheldon and Milka had to take up several jobs to get back into an apartment of her own), Aggie is often left alone for several days at a time (Milka will get some of her friends to check on her often, they've only found the apartment slightly on fire twice!), so no one really noticed Dedf1sh was there for quite awhile, and when they did it was deemed too much of a dick move to kick her back out on the streets (also the apartment wasn't on fire and the tiny gremlin child was not as scuffed up as usual, so they figured Dedf1sh being a built in babysitter wasn't too bad of an idea)

However, Milka was the last person to arrive back after the new couch surfer appeared and was to put it mildly, very confused.

Milka - "Wuh- Why is there a green skinned octoling on our couch?"

Aggie - "That's Dedf1sh!"

Milka, even more confused - "Correction - why is there a dead fish on our couch?"

Did I think all of this up just for that joke?

Maybe....

#Splatoon 3 #Splatoon 3 OC #Milka oc #Agea OC #dedf1sh #Is Milka turning into a Mary Sue for knowing too many popular characters?#Probably #Do I care?#Absolutely not #Also I was inspired by the Crush 14 comic #Buuuut my version of Dedf1sh is very different to that incarnation #I might write this up as a fic #Because Why Is There A Dedf1sh On Our Couch is an amazing fic title #Hell might even make Milka and Dedf1sh a couple #I think they'd be cute together #This is as the kids would say cringe #But by Cod I am free

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gingerbreadmonsters · 2 years

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A random fic ask for you! How do you come up with your fic titles?

yoooo... wait actually how do i do that?

sometimes the title comes from the, like, vibe of the whole thing? or it's a reference to something related that ties into the general atmosphere i want - vesper is the latin name for the evening star (as opposed to lucifer's morning star) , soft focus is a photography term, wonderland is referencing a fantastical tea party, etc etc

a lot of the time, my titles are also quotes from stuff thar i think is especially relevant or holds a particular significance to the plot - and i think we could be here all day if i tried to list them all!

a few choice ones: rebel flesh is from a doctor who episode about killer clones, one more paradox is from a very sad episode (also of doctor who) about impossibilities and the loss of the people you love, get in, loser! is from the bit where they go shopping in mean girls, thy fair imperfect shade is from shakespeare's sonnet 43 about day and night (more specifically the recipient brightening the speaker's dreams), green umbrella trees is from a p!atd song about the sun and the moon falling in love, all of the titles from LOVE HEART are real phrases you might find in a packet of conversation hearts - and of course there's to the egress!, where all of the titles are lyrics from the songs that inspire them!

(except, bizarrely, the name "to the egress", which i think is only said once in a line of dialogue and written on a prop sign during the museum song lmao)

and the final category: titles that are not really in reference to something, but that are just short phrases that i think make sense and summarise a key theme of the fic - take a sip, net zero, ivory tower, forty winks... most tend to be sayings or turns of phrase in their own right that i just reappropriate for my own purposes lmao

#thank you sm for the ask babes!! 🥰🥰#i love coming up with titles lmao #song lyrics are popular w me bc music inspires a lot of what i write #sh-boom sh-boom! or can't help but see or green umbrella trees #don't even get me STARTED on the subtitles #(the 'or:' line that goes under the title)#because THAT is a fun time to come up with #sometimes it just clicks and sometimes it takes FOREVER #but it's one of the best bits!#sometimes it's referencing the same thing as the title or sometimes it's referencing something different #sometimes it's just summarising what's going to happen in the fic #(e.g. knock knock!)#sometimes it's just a stupid little quip or an innuendo or something that i think is funny #(e.g. take a sip)#fun fact: take a sip is still called 'take a sip (sluuuuuuuuurp)' in my google docs #bc i was GOING to just call it 'sluuuuuuuurp' but i thought that might be coming on a bit strong yk #this is a lovely ask and i love chatting about writing 🤩🤩#romi beloved <3 #ginger speaks to lovely blogs

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