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koemiexists · 1 month

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need a overstim fic w alastor pleaseeeeee and maybe some bondage with his tentacles????

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

summary: alastor is your best friend, you think. but he doesn't want that. and you're okay with it. word count: 1.6k tags: smut, light bondage, tentacles, tentacle sex, overstimulation, monster form alastor, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, vaginal sex a/n: sorry for the wait!! i have been busy with school, as per the usual... but again!! slowly but surely!! the tortoise wins the race as they say!

You and Alastor were practically best friends. He never said it explicitly, but you knew that you and him had to be really close for him to be so at ease with you.

Rosie had told you that not once had his smile dropped, even in private with her. You, however, witnessed it one time. It was an accident, sure, you had just looked up at the exact moment his smile dropped from a wide grin to a bit of a grimace. It happened so quickly you almost thought you were imagining things.

Considering this, if anyone asked, you would confidently say that you and Alastor are best friends.

Alastor didn’t think the same, though, you came to realize when he loomed over your bed one night.

You were upset, to be honest, especially because you barely had time to yank your hands out of your underwear when you heard the telltale sign of him entering.

His shadow had spread out along the wall, staring down at you as you shot up, staring at Alastor, cheeks slightly red. The room was illuminated by two light sources; the constant dim lighting of Hell and all of the artificial bulbs that littered the streets, and Alastor’s glowing red eyes staring straight at you.

“Alastor?” You whispered, tilting your head in question of just why he was at your bed in the middle of the night. Angel had dragged you to a bunch of shopping stores for the entire day, rambling about how your wardrobe was especially lacking, so you were tired, and just wanted to let loose steam before finally sleeping.

In retrospect, you were glad you went along, considering you brought Charlie a new suit that she loved.

A sharp crackle of radio static forced your thoughts back on the Radio Demon’s form, and how he just continued to stare, before clearing his throat, the constant noise altering his voice rising.

“Apologies, (Name).” He started slowly, gently sitting at the edge of your bed as you continued to silently look at him, your confusion heightening as you began to get apprehensive of what his goal was here.

Despite the air thickening with static and apprehension, you couldn’t help the fact that you began to get wetter at the sight of Alastor. He cleared his throat, eyes narrowing at your form.

“Why are you here?” You question softly, removing your covers from your body as you begin to perspire lightly. “You don’t normally come into the women’s bedrooms without permission. You said that it’s not of a gentleman’s nature to do so without courting her...”

He nods lightly, inclining his head towards you as he places his microphone to the side. “You’re correct,” Alastor’s eyes are on you again, glowing lightly as his grin sharpens. “And I am here particularly to court you. Although... it seems I may have interrupted a private matter.”

You flushed, and looked away. “Yeah, you have. Is that why you were acting a bit weird?”

Alastor huffed. “Weird?” His fluffy ears drew back against his head as he rolled his eyes, his grin still present. “I was not acting in an abnormal way.”

Feeling bold, you decide to wake the lion in the den with some teasing. “Oh? Am I supposed to believe that, Al? Obviously, something is up. You’re acting weird around me.” You huffed, crossing your arms as you glared up at him.

“Watch your mouth, dear. I will not be kind to you if you keep talking.”

You snort. “How are you going to shut me up, hm? Is the big, bad Radio Demon going to broadcast my screams? Going to make me beg for forgiveness? Are you going to try and take my soul? Huh?” You’re not sure why you’re so emboldened, and why you’re trying to get a rise out of the one sinner who can kill you in an instant, yet you feel thrilled when you see his brows furrow.

His antlers grew in size, and his eyes became radio dials as his large size towered your smaller frame. His grin was so wide, you felt your heart stop for a moment as his claws dug deep into the side of your pillow, right by your head.

Alastor watched you yelp in fear, and he can almost smell the way your blood was pumping, the way you began to clam up. “Done?” He spoke slowly, as you nodded. “Good.”

Instead of shifting to his regular form, he just snapped his fingers, and you let out a high pitched squeal when your pajamas disappeared from your body. You were left stark naked, and Alastor only gave you a look, as if to punish you for your behavior.

“Bad girls don’t get to orgasm once and be done with it.” A tentacle shot out from his back as his shadow self held your legs in order to stop any potential movement you may make. “You’ll take what I give you. And you have made me very upset, (Name).”

You whimpered, but he ignored it, instead pulling a chair up and sitting right next to the bed. His tentacle then went straight to your awaiting cunt, rubbing from the opening of your tight pussy to the tip of your clit.

Twisting, you let out another squeaky noise, eyes wide and face flushed. Alastor peered at you, but you only let out a gasping ‘green’ as the tentacle plunged deep in you. You shifted again, trying to make the appendage go deeper into you.

“Needy? I barely touched you.” He smirked at your writhing form, the way your hair was splayed against the pillows. Your hips began to buck upwards, trying to get closer to the base of the tentacle. “Who were you thinking of?”

You sobbed out in pleasure, feeling your abdomen tighten as a second appendage began to rub at your clit at a fast pace. “W-what? What are you-” You interrupted yourself with another pleading moan exiting your mouth.

Alastor rubbed your legs slowly, humming. “When you were masturbating.”

“Before you arrived?” You moaned out, an arm over your head as you hiccuped. “I- It’s embarrassing. This is embarrassing.” You told him, trying to keep your noises at bay. You felt your high cresting, but you didn’t want to cum so quickly. The tentacles kept their touches up, and you bit your lip hard, drawing blood.

He narrowed his eyes at you, the room filling with a cursed energy as he continued his ministrations, ever so slightly speeding up as you barreled to your release.

You orgasmed around the tentacle inside you, whimpering as the other one rubbed your clit at the same quick pace, throwing you into the side of overstimulation. Crying out, you try to push it out of the way, however two more tentacles come out to pull your arms back. You writhed, your leg automatically jolting out in response to the constant stimulation on your cunt, and you shrieked as Alastor began to tease another tentacle against your already filled pussy.

“Now who?” He inquired once again, watching as you sobbed from the pleasure, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. His erection pressed against his tight pants, but he just disregarded the pressure, focusing on the way your hair was tousled up, and the saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth.

After another tortuous moment of this, you caved, bucking your hips as your lips parted. “You! You, Alastor! I was thinking- I was-” You moaned roughly, and he smirked as you tried to gain your bearings. “Mm, I was rubbing my wet cunt at the mere thought of you!”

Humming, Alastor grasped your hips, retracting his appendages that were holding your arms down. He leaned over you, in perfect position to thrust inside if he was bare.

“You look gorgeous.” Was all he breathed out, as you shrieked when the second tentacle at your cunt thrusted inside. You instantly came, whining pathetically for more, even as you were overstimulated.

The other appendages retracted, and he unzipped his pants to thrust his hard dick inside you. You choked on a moan at the feeling of his cock, especially considering it was thick and long due to his monstrous form. “Al- Mm, Alastor!” You keened, wrapping your trembling legs around his hips.

With every thrust, the bed shook tremendously, causing the headboard to bang against the wall. In your lust-filled mind, you couldn’t remember how there was others in this hotel, how everyone must have woken up due to the amount of noise you were making-

“No one will see you in such a state, darling.” Alastor groaned through the heavy static in his voice. You let out a quiet whimper as he abused your cunt with sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, and you just wished he’d fill your pussy, to the point where you were stuffed full.

You were well aware of his questioning gaze at you, and you tried your best to fight through the fucked dumb haze, swallowing a few time as you tried to move your tongue to make sounds. “Breed me,” You stuttered out, looking up at Alastor. “Breed me until I’m full, Alastor, please.”

Alastor growled, and shoved his cock deep inside you, watching as you squirted all over him and the bed from the strength of your orgasm. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight, and he grunted as he pulled your hips flushed against his own, before cumming inside you.

You couldn’t even moan anymore, instead making a tired yet pleasured noise at the feel of Alastor’s thick, hot cum inside your swollen, puffy pussy.

You felt, rather than saw, Alastor slowly become his regular form. He shifted you gently, and you groaned at the way your legs ached. “Apologies, dear.” Alastor said, seeming apologetic as he kissed your sweaty forehead. “You must rest now. I believe you are properly sated?”

Smiling cheekily, you gave him a half-lidded lustful glance. “I may need some tending to, tomorrow.”

Alastor let out a small huff of amusement, smiling genuinely at you. “After I tell Charlie and the others that you’re perfectly fine.”

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larentslovechaos · 2 years

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Are we telling ex stories??? Because my ex broke up with me out of the blue and then blocked me on everything so it was kind of blindsiding and we didn't talk or anything for over a year. Well I was cleaning out my spotify playlists a few weeks ago and saw a playlist she made me and I was surprised that it still existed. So I clicked on it and it took me to her profile and that was the one thing she didn't block me on and I was looking through her playlists and there was a "playlist for ******" and that name is the name of the boy she told me annoyed her at work everyday. So I think she was cheating on me but she never admitted it so that stings like at least have the guts to tell someone and don't make up a bs excuse of why you're breaking up with them

oh we can definitely tell ex stories! lol

I'm so sorry that happened to you. I truly hate these times we're in of being able to just "ghost" someone. It stings even when it's just someone you're "talking to"/dating. I had it happen pretty recently. Like why is it so hard to just be a decent person and say how you're feeling, and why you're breaking it off instead of leaving someone wondering.

I hope you weren't with them for very long for them to have done that to you. Sending love your way 💞💞

If anyone wants to share any ex-stories feel free to drop them in my inbox!

#I've been single for almost 5 years :)#i quite literally don't know how to act anymore when someone shows interest in me #and being romantically awkward and socially awkward at nearly 23 years old isn't exactly cute #i just probably seem very strange 🙃#like what is actually going on #where do you meet people?#i feel like you can't even tell someone in person anymore without either you or them getting super awkward about it??#yknow?#i just have too many issues to even try it right now i think but i am feeling quite lonely #would just like to have someone to talk to everyday or almost everyday again #like cuddles and kisses would be so great lol #it's been so so long since i've met someone new that i've been interested in #ive had crushes and stuff but get too scared to tell them 🙃#anyway skdkfkd #my last relationship was 4.5 years ago and that relationship was also me getting back together with an ex #so yeah literally i've not met anyone new I've been close to in like... 6??? years #other than the guy I was talking about here that ghosted me but idk if that counts 🤣 we never even met in person #my tags ramble was way longer than it was supposed to be 🙃#anon #anonymous

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starsinmylatte · 3 months

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The Taste of Love

In which our beloved bathtub lawyer realizes that he loves you the first time he’s forced to cancel a date.

Pairing: Higurma Hiromi x gender-neutral reader

Rating: Pure fluff

Word count: 0.6k

Click here to join my taglist (18+ only, this blog is mostly filth!)

Higuruma Hiromi was perpetually exhausted and wanted nothing more than to spend an evening relaxing with you, but his current caseload was just too overwhelming. He was a brilliant man and a peerless lawyer, but, unfortunately, he was still human; there was only so much work he could do in one day.

Higuruma had called you, head planted shamefully in his slender, ink-stained hands, and requested a rain check on your date. He apologized profusely, but you still sounded heartbroken over the phone. You reassured him that you understood, but the situation tugged at his heartstrings; his last relationship had ended because his girlfriend accused him of loving his work more than her.

Originally, the night was supposed to be spent with a lovely steak dinner and a movie at his place afterward. Hiromi wanted nothing more than to be snuggled up on his couch with a glass of wine and your head on his shoulder, but here he was at 8 pm... still in his suit from the workday and permanently attached to his desk chair with a mountain of files in front of him.

The last thing he ever expected was to hear a knock at his door thirty minutes later. A very confused, slightly disheveled Higuruma opened the door to find you standing out in the cold with three bags of groceries, a pan, and a loaf of bread.

"I wasn't sure what kind of pans you have, so I brought one!" You chirped, beaming up at the tired man. Higuruma blinked at you blearily, not daring to believe his eyes.

"Are you going to let me in?" You teased, slightly concerned that you'd done the wrong thing by surprising him.

Higuruma backpedaled instantly, quickly ushering you out of the snow into his apartment. "Sorry for the, uh, mess...." He apologized with a faint blush on his cheeks.

In truth, his apartment wasn’t excessively messy, but Hiromi was a working man in his 30s with little time to clean unless he had a date planned…. and he thought his date had been canceled. His heart thumped as you breezed into his kitchen with no preamble and set up a small cooking station on the counter.

At that moment, Hiromi would’ve testified in court that he’d never seen anyone more beautiful, even though you wore absolutely no makeup and your outfit consisted of leggings and a law school sweatshirt you’d “borrowed” from him. He stood there watching you wordlessly, slack-jawed from appreciation as you clicked on a burner and tossed the pan on to preheat.

“Are you… okay with me being here?” You paused, blushing slightly. “I wanted to do something nice for you since you’re working so hard. You still deserve a good meal and I know you’re too busy to eat properly. I probably should’ve asked before inviting myself over-”

Higuruma’s soft lips were pressed against yours before you could finish rambling. He kissed you tenderly but thoroughly, and you simply melted into his arms. All of your worries faded away as he broke the kiss to press his lips to your forehead.

“No, it’s perfect…. You’re perfect.” He murmured against your skin. “I just can’t believe how lucky I am.”

You kissed him again with a soft smile on your lips, and in that moment, Higuruma Hiromi tasted nothing but pure love.

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @Orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @cindyneko-strider @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @pseudowho

#tumblr pls let me actually tag people challenge #higuruma hiromi #jjk higuruma #higuruma x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #hiromi jjk #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x you

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penny00dreadful · 7 months

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So... some of you may have noticed my fics have come to a screeching halt the last couple of months which is not like me and I am here to explain myself.

Babygirl, I have been preparing.

The end of this month is my 1 year anniversary of posting in this fandom, of posting any of my work online after not doing it for like fifteen fucking years and it has brought me so much incandescent joy, I decided I had to do something for it.

(I've also hit like... several milestones which is fucking insane like you all know I'm just some cranky bog witch, right??)

I have been working on my WIPs for over the last two months. All... holy mother of god... like nine of them???

Some of these have been completed, some I am still writing and some are mostly done.

So starting from my anniversary date, 23rd October, every second or third day, I'll be posting a chapter of something.

I have so much material built up this shit could go on until 2024

@hbyrde36 called it my own personal Penny00Dreadful BigBang... and yeah kinda! 😅

I wanted to do this to show just how much I love this community. Your kind words, your support, your unhinged ramblings, your obsessive love, your talent (for free??) it's all amazing it's so amazing and I wanted to explode forth with my love for it so I figured why the fuck not do this stupid idea??😅

All of these will be posted both to tumblr and AO3 so subscribe over there to keep updated or follow me here!

OH! And let me know if you wanna be tagged! If you wanna be tagged for a specific fic or for everything I'll add you, whatever you want.

You've made me so happy and so warm for the last year. The way I know if I'm having a bad day I just need to hop onto this side of tumblr and everything will be peaches and gravy again.

I love you guys so much. 😘🖤

Updated Schedule - (18th Feb 2024)

Fic list with blurbs below the cut, this will (roughly) be the order they're posted in:

Return of The King - COMPLETE

Steddie Vampire AU with a twist! Vampire Steve comes back after falling to the bats. There is two more chapters left and those chapters have been completed.

Comeuppance - COMPLETE

Dustin just wants Steve to be happy. So he tries to parent trap him with Nancy. Clearly they should be together. But Steve's heart doesn't even seem to be in it at all! How is he so bad at this? And Eddie is being less than helpful

Rookie Mistake - COMPLETE

My Steddie Established Relationship Spies AU oneshot that will have a multi-chapter prequel fic coming very soon after!

Eddie is "retired" and Steve has been injured on the job, so he's supposed to be taking it easy. How hard could a walk to the gas station be?

Before He Cheats - COMPLETE

Songfic! Carrie Underwood - Before He Cheats

I literally have no excuse for this one. The rotted brainworms were behind the steering wheel with this one.

One evening, Eddie gets a call from some guy named Steve dropping the news on him that his boyfriend has been cheating on him. With this Steve person and Steve had no idea up until that day.

And Eddie rarely takes that shit lying down.

Steddievember Smut - COMPLETE

No Nut November is here! One can play however he wants. The other just has to wait for December to roll around. I have no other words to describe what this will be, it does what it says on the tin. I blame the STWG discord server. Currently we're looking at four little ficlets for this.

Cat and Mouse - COMPLETE

The Steddie Spies AU Prequel! How they got together and the extreme ups and downs their enemies/rivals to lovers journey goes through. I had so much fun with this one.

And They Were Roommates! - COMPLETE

omg they were roommates.

Steve and Eddie don't hate each other exactly. They just... tolerate each other. But one night Eddie doesn't come home for hours. Long after he's supposed to and it's not like Steve is worried or anything... he's just... concerned for a fellow human being... that's all.

Through The Valley

Post-Apocalyptic AU. Eddie, Dustin and Nancy have a nice little community of survivors outside of Hawkins that they take care of, surviving day to day. Everyone's a little broken, missing the rest of their Party just hoping that one day they'll find each other again.

Devotion

Dungeons and Dragons AU. Steve is the golden boy of the small town of Hawkins. Harrington in name and now a Paladin with his very own oath to hunt down the Bard, the witch Eddie Munson and bring him back to justice under High Priest Henry Creel.

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wormdebut · 11 days

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LET DOWN AND HANGING AROUND (CRUSHED LIKE A BUG IN THE GROUND)

Ahoy! This is my first VERY LATE ficlet for @corrodedcoffinfest ! My absolute bad for being so late, but BOY am I HAPPY TO BE HERE!

Warm Up Prompt One: Taxed. Word Count: 1000 (scrivener says 1000 Wordcounter says 979. IDK Man, it’s within limit), Rating: T, Pairing: None, CW: Swears, Smoking, Angst Tags: Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak

----

October 1987

They've been at this for fucking years. Eddie feels like a fucking girl scout.

'Well hello there Mr. Music Man, would you like to buy a box of shitty garage band metal?'

Except they weren't fucking shitty. All of the guys had been working their assess off, writing, playing shows, shitty gig after shitty gig after shitty gig.

But they haven't managed anything. Nothing, zilch, nada.

They had a small crowd showing up at the Hideout, and the owner, Benny, started letting them play not only their usual Tuesday but because Eddie had been helping him with placehe was letting them play Saturday nights now too, which was great because while he appreciates the likes of his uncle and Wayne's best friends on Tuesdays, there were almost twenty people every Saturday night and that was something.

They also had a standing gig at a bar in Indianapolis at least once a month, lately they've been playing The Barrel every other week and Eddie thought--he thought--that that would get them somewhere.

The guys were fucking exhausted but Eddie kept pushing because they could do this. Corroded Coffin was great. They were great and somebody was going to see that…right?

Eddie saw what they had. He did. But the guys--

"C'mon Ed, we can't keep sneaking Gareth into bars forever. I think we need to--maybe consider other options or--" Jeff rambles. They were supposed to be practicing but Jeff Williams had to swoop inwith his stupid common sense bullshit. Jeff motherfucking Williams is one of the best guitarists Eddie has ever had to the privilege of listening to, but Jeff wants to go college like a real boy!

Gareth cuts him off, "It's just the two bars man, and I have a fake, if I need it anyw--"

Would you look at that, it's time for Freddy to cut in. "Yeah, but you're three feet tall and have the face of a newborn child."

Gareth shoves at Freddy's chest. "Oh fuck off, man. At least I'm not a virgin!" He yelps and great. This is great.

Now the band is fighting, again, because Jeff wants to go to College, Goodie is a Virgin, and Gareth is short.

Eddie just want to play music.

If they all want to yell, Eddie can yell louder. "See. Do you see what happens when you start talking about 'other options' Jeff? Chaos--and not the fun kind!"

"See, Eddie--this is the fucking problem with you. All you care about is your music, your dream, It's all about you!"

Jeff is yelling at Eddie, Gareth and Freak are rough housing, how did this even happen. All Eddie wants is to do something. Be something. He believes in this, in Jeff, and Freddy and Gareth, in the band.

And he gets that everyone is taxed, tired. Eddie is fucking exhausted. Gareth is trying to not fail his senior year. He gets it, he does, but-- "You know what, Jeff?" His voice breaks, and isn't that fucking humiliating? "Some of us, don't have college as an option. Did you ever consider that?"

Eddie leans over and grabs his cigarettes from the table, before shoulder checking Jeff as he leaves.

——

What’s the fucking point? Eddie puts everything into lyrics that people probably don't even know, all of them spend hours writing and harmonizing, making sure chords make sense, just for everything to be a pipe dream. They haven't taken a break for anything. It's either work or school or Coffin Shit. They haven't played D&D in months. They've just been doing this.

But it's all Eddie has. How the hell was he ever going to get out of shitty ass Hawkins, if it wasn't this way? He didn't exactly ace his finals--even the third time around. Honestly? He's pretty sure they just let him pass, to get him the fuck out of there.

He lights up what feels like his eighth cigarette--it's not, it's his second--and stares out to the empty street. They use Gareth's garage to practice…for being as straight laced as she is, Ms. Emerson sure does believe in the band.

Dottie Emerson and Eddie. God dammit, maybe Jeff is right.

He should go back, he should go back and apologize, and let this go. He has the job at the Hideout, he can save and maybe move to Indy--play an acoustic at some bars or…something.

God, he's just so tired of this shit.

He finishes his cigarette, and tries to breathe. Breathe in--hold--breathe out--he doesn't realizes Jeff until he taps his shoulder.

"Hey." Jeff says, quiet. Eddie, just nods, grabs his pack and offers a cancer-filled olive branch. Jeff takes it.

Eddie doesn't say anything. Doesn't want to, doesn't know what he should say.

So Jeff does. "I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm just fucking tired man, we all are and I do want this, I do, but it's fucking scary." Eddie turns, watches Jeff blow out smoke. "I got accepted to IU, did you know that?"

Eddie blinks. He did not know that. "No, you hadn't mentioned it."

Jeff turns to look at him, "I didn't want this to happen."

Eddie closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath. In--hold--out. "You should go." He forces a smile, watches as Jeff's eyes shine for a moment--no wonder he had that silly crush on him his second senior year, but it was only for like a week, leave it alone--before he srunches his face up, Eddie can't help but laugh. Jeff always does that, when he's stressed. It makes him look like a rabbit.

Jeff goes to speak, but Eddie cuts him off. "Let's do this Halloween show, it'll be our going away gift to our tens of adoring fans."

Jeff laughs at that, nods, and pulls Eddie into a hug.

Everything will be fine, with or without Corroded Coffin.

#worm brain #everyone buckle up cause I'm determined to knock all of these out #they will follow a story line BUT also stand alone #so note that even though eddie thinks this is the end thats a big fat lie #Steve is out there somewhere #and so will Corroded Coffin being famous as fuck #I promise #eddie munson #stranger thing #stranger things ficlet #pre steddie #cause BOY WILL THEY BE HERE #Corroded Coffin #All the boys. They are all here and they be fighting #corrrodedcoffinfest #worm coffin verse

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mblue-art · 4 days

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i’m curious about your take on strawberry nightmare! to you, what’s he like? how does he act? what’s he all bout?

He is annoying (/aff hehe), and even more so to regular Nightmare. I tried to figure out (still am, I guess) how to put the flavor theming and '2P!' thing together, but here's what I have in my head for him ^^ (ramble warning!)

Finding out that the concept of '2P!' variants existed in UTMV too, made me happy! Usually 2P!s are inverted or flipped versions of the original character— think Fell'd or Swap'd versions in UTMV terms— so I thought:

Huh. If he's supposed to be a flipped version of Nightmare, would he have similarities with Swap!Dream? 🤔 But softer, nicer? 'cause he's also strawberry milk-themed! 🍓 flavors and aesthetics can be associated with soft, nice, sweet, cheery, and pretty...

(And sometimes, behind that pretty pink, lies red danger. While regular Nightmare clearly shows that he is a threat, S!NM hides it behind a layer of sweetness; (like a yandere— I explored yandere S!NM here), like a 'nice' character hiding their bad side—

But don't worry! Only those who are deserving of his wrath will face it. He's mean when he needs to. The simps are safe, as well as the people he cherishes! He can be a patient man. Just don't be on his bad side and you'll be a-ok! 👍(⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

He's like... If regular NM decided to go uwu for the bit, but forever.........(/hj)

He is friendly, a flirt, flips between being all cutesy and rizzing up the simps,

nicely offers you (suspicious— he loves making people doubt LOL) pink sweets in exchange for company or simply as thanks for spending time with him

(A king can feel so lonely sometimes 😩😔 esp w/o his dear brother around... so maybe he has a massive pink house instead of a castle :] Oooh, imagine how pink and aesthetic the interior would be...),

likes messing with the original Nightmare (Ah!! NM hosting parties! Him getting invited! Yes, he'd def talk to the king of the castle but tries to be civil! This is a nice fancy party with lots of people around; he's not gonna ruin this for anyone 😤 he just wants to socialize!!)

(Yes he owns a few creative 🍓-themed suits, why wouldn't he lean towards his aesthetic 😤)

Like any Guardian of Feelings, he can manipulate/control emotions. He can pull out one's negative emotions to calm them down, and he can also make one feel nervous or any other mix of feelings in his presence, just like how his original counterpart does.

As for his role in the multiverse, I'd say he honestly just tries to have fun. Yk, jus a lil chaos. Teehee. No multiverse domination or anything, he just likes being a menace to people hehehe

An idea I thought of a few times is him hinting that he has visited Nightmare's castle (whether he actually talked to NM or not) by leaving strawberry milk (carton/bottle) in the fridge for the others to see and be confused by.

'hey guys where's my choccy milk? did any of you drink it?? it was my last box!' - 'why is there strawberry milk again... none of you drink this...' - 'who keeps getting this pink stuff'

NM eventually informs them about this visitor, and to be cautious, just... Don't drink whatever pink thing he leaves in the fridge.

I've never really thought of what S!NM's backstory would be, what him and his Dream's 'Dreamtale AU' would be, so right now, he's just... There one day (lol) with a brother that keeps? running away from him?? (His Dream is 🟦 instead of 🟨! (I saw an artist drew him as such) And while 🍓 is happy and excited, 🔵 is kinda gloomy... Interesting to see a happy Negativity Guardian and a grumpy Positivity Guardian...)

You can scroll through the #snm asks tag to read past (mostly simp) shenanigans with him, and you can also click these links for my other rambleposts about him ^^

#ask #mblue talks #m rambles #snm asks #took me a while bc i had to yoink the thoughts that were floating in the clouds orz #i'm still! interested about hearing people's takes on him too!! :D

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iamasaddie · 6 months

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WIP WEDNESDAY!

thank you for the tag, gorgeous @janaispunk 🤎

So, I always end up posting way too much on the WIP Wednesday posts when I feel like I’m supposed to post just a couple of sentences, but I honestly can’t stop myself from doing it because the response hypes me up so much and motivates me to write more. Here’s a snippet (+ a tiny mood board) from the next chapter of PIMP (yes, I am writing it, no, I don’t know when it’s gonna be done 😭)

sneak peek under the cut ❤️🐇

"You’re sure? A week ago you didn’t know how to get yourself off, and now you wanna use all your holes?"

You were stunned, speechless. Joel looked at you, uncertainty was clearly visible in the brown irises that couldn’t find a spot on your face to look at. He sensed his crude comment making you uncomfortable, and stepped closer, placing his hand on your shoulder and squeezing it lightly. You lowered your head as if trying to hide from him, but he didn’t let you do it, instead pinching your chin gently and making you look into his eyes. "What? Don’t get all shy with me, rabbit."

"I was just thinking that…" Your voice faltered. The day took you in a roller coaster of emotions, and you still couldn’t quite find the steady ground. How were you supposed to say what you wanted to say? Say something that had been on your mind since that thing happened?

"That?" Joel prompted you to continue, letting go of your chin, his hands fell flatly along his sides.

"Maybeyoucanteachmethattoo." Your tongue moved faster than your brain generated the words, but you still felt the white hot embarrassment pinching your cheeks. Joel furrowed his brows, his face tense and unreadable as he brought one of his large hands and scratched his chin.

"Can you slow down like ten times and go again?"

After you looked at him hesitantly for a couple long moments, you let yourself take a couple of deep breaths, calming yourself down as much as you could.

"Maybe you could be my first in this… So I’m prepared, you know? Like another lesson… If that’s your thing? It’s okay if it’s not, you told me not a lot of men do that."

So much foot calming down, now you just rambled like a crazy person, stumbling over your own words.

"Not a lot of men do that because not a lot of men can pay for that. And you’re offering me your tight little virgin ass for free?” Joel closed the distance between you, your back hit the wall, and his hands snaked around your neck, not squeezing but caressing the undersides of your jaw with his rough fingertips. Your lips almost touched, his eyes never leaving yours. “How’m I supposed to say no to that?"

BABE, YOU GONNA GET YOUR ASS FUCKED 😈

npt: @toxicanonymity ; @kiwisbell ; @covetyou ; @milla-frenchy ; @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin ; @bonezone44 ; @gasolinerainbowpuddles

#htbs sneak peek #joel miller x reader #iamasaddie ficaboo #wip wednesday

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cozza-frenzy · 1 year

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Fanfic: A Perfect Moment

Of all the places I could be, I just want to be here with you. Hello again, fandom! It’s been less than a week (apparently??) and @chronicsheepdrawing‘s amazing character designs are still keeping my creativity train rolling! This fic once again stars their Drinky Bird Narrator - so if you’re not familiar, go check out a silly bird! (He certainly needs more love, given how he thinks of himself... ) This is a sequel (of sorts) to Anything Not Saved. It happens some time afterwards, after more resets and endings have taken place. Expect a dark chocolate Angst Cake with plenty of Mutual Pining, layers of Fluffy Stannarrator between each layer, and a Meta cherry on top - trust me, you’ll see what I mean. And my apologies to any ASL users; I did at least try to do some research, but I can’t vouch for my accuracy! CONTENT WARNINGS: Isolation, Paranoia, Abandonment Issues, Self-Hatred, Body Dysphoria (Not Gender Related), Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Emotional Breakdown, Memory Loss, Panic Attack, Touch Aversion, Autistic Sensory Overload/Over-Stimulation. I’m also adding a mild Unreality Warning to this one. If you’re looking at a reblog of this post, there are details in the tags of the original if you feel like you may be triggered by this. For everyone else, the tags are a minor spoiler, so maybe don’t look unless you’re really curious. Bon Appetit!

Stanley? STANLEY!? Oh my god, Stanley! Stanley, thank goodness - something VERY peculiar is going on this morning… See, it all started when I booted up my computer this morning - and you’ll never believe it, but I wasn’t receiving any commands! NONE! So I asked one of the other Employees what was going on, and they must not have known, because they didn’t say anything! What do you think; should I perhaps try the meeting room? Do you think maybe I missed a memo? I mean I really don’t want to interrupt anything, not to mention the sheer embarrassment of walking into something like that, not only unannounced but LATE- Wait, I’m not done! Stanley, I’m not - oh, sorry, sorry, of course! It’s precisely 10:32 AM, of course you always get a drink of water from the cooler at this time in the morning… haha, typical silly old ▇▇▇▇▇▇, am I right? I swear, I’d lose my head if it wasn't permanently attached to my neck! But, ah, anyway, Stanley, I just feel like… like something’s wrong? I mean, have you noticed how some things are, eh, just… you know… ‘off’? Like did you know Employee [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID]’s desk is empty? I mean, it looks like they haven’t touched their pencil sharpener in weeks! In fact, now that… now that I’ve thought about it… Stanley, did we ever HAVE an Employee [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID]? I mean surely we wouldn’t have a desk without an employee! That’s ridiculous! But why can’t I seem to… ? Ah, yes, alright, I know work is important and I know I tend to ramble but- please, just hear me out?? Look, I know I must be trying your patience! I know my ‘little stories’ are utterly insufferable to literally EVERY other employee in this building! But you, you always stopped to listen and - waitwaitwait, I’m sorry, just - please! Please Stanley, I’m ALWAYS supposed to receive my instructions and now I can’t even access my bloody terminal! I mean, how ELSE am I supposed to make sure the other employees are doing their jobs correctly?? Didn’t the board hand down that notice just last week!? You know, the one reiterating how vital it is to the well-being of the company that all of us, together- Stanley? Stanley, where are you going-? Can… can you hear me? Can you even SEE me!? Wait! Stanley! Stanley, I’m right here! I’m right HERE! Why aren’t you looking at me? Why aren’t you LOOKING at me!? STANLEY! STANLEY, PLEASE!! DON’T LEAVE M- Oh… …Oh no… —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ah, memories… Wonderful, wonderful memories. So much exquisitely-crafted content to reminisce over. He’d worked so hard on crafting this place; he’d fashioned every detail with care and precision. Yes, there would be trees here, a nice little fence there… oh, perhaps a few flowers, for a little splash of color! Yes, yes! The sound of birds, the smell of grass, the sky just a little overcast... yes indeed, not too bright, nor too gloomy. The light would hit just perfect this way, painting everything in soft and muted shades. Wonderful. Those clouds would be the whipped cream on this lovely little slice of the world, so close to being served and savored. And like a nervous, fidgeting pastry chef, the anticipation of someone experiencing this delectable delicacy had him practically giddy! The Narrator took a deep breath through the nose he maybe didn’t have, filling absent lungs with fresh air; and heaved a heavy sigh as he closed his plastic eyes, calming himself down. Wouldn’t be long now, he thought, chuckling softly. Stanley had fallen for his little breadcrumb trail the very minute he’d opened that vent… and any minute now, he’d be marveling at the inexplicably out of place stone archway. Manifested as if in a dream, a glowing portal to another realm, right there in the office… He rocked back on his heels a little, humming merrily to himself as he waited. Ah, he was proud of that little room; so mysterious, so enticing. A beautiful fragment of memory that he’d dusted off and polished up, until it glittered in his mind’s eye like a priceless diamond. Not half bad for something he’d forcibly yanked from the tangled, mangled wreckage that had been left behind in his head, when he’d stopped being human and become something- The Narrator cleared his nonexistent throat, straightening his tie. No, no, not today, he scolded himself internally. That so-called ‘Ultra Deluxe’ content’ had been so unfathomably disappointing, he’d had no choice but to do better! To show them just how great The Stanley Parable used to be! And any minute now, the hero of their story would be walking through that door to the most wonderful surprise. “Just our little secret”, The Narrator said as he felt Stanley’s presence. He was right behind him now, and getting closer. “Take a look.” He turned around, eager to see his protagonist’s reaction. He watched as Stanley shielded his eyes; the fingertips on his other hand tracing the surface of the cool stone pillar, as he stepped out into the memory of warm daylight. And the Narrator’s heart swelled with pride as he heard the soft gasp of wonder - the exact reaction he’d been looking for. “I call it - the Memory Zone!” He said, turning towards the path before him. “It’s where I keep all of my favorite memories… ” Not too far away was a squat, triangular building, full of snippets he’d painstakingly selected and organized for display. He’d come here a few times himself while it was still under construction; just to re-live some of the moments he’d preserved. As soon as Stanley stepped through that door, he would… wait… The Narrator froze suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. He’s got that look again. He’s… looking at me! Damn it, he’d been so caught up in what he was doing, he’d forgotten to unload his model! Alright, alright, maybe if he acted quickly enough, Stanley would dismiss it as simply a brief glitch- >/console >/unload Narrator.mdl ERROR: NOT FOUND What?? Clenching his glove-fist in frustration, he reached into the code and tried again. >/unload Narrator.mdl ERROR: NOT FOUND >/locate Narrator.mdl ERROR: POSITION NOT VALID The Narrator closed the console. That warm, fuzzy feeling of pride was quickly disintegrating under the freezing grasp of fear. He’d built the Memory Zone in a place so well hidden it was only outside the bloody map!!! And now there were footsteps behind him! And like the absolute fool he was, he turned around! Stanley was approaching. Slowly drawing closer. Each step ticking away the seconds to his doom. It’s okay, he reassured himself. You can pass it off as the Easter Egg from last time - just using it as a puppet to welcome him and nothing more! His face flushed. Stanley was right in front of him. He tried not to think about what muscles he may or may not still have - but regardless of their supposed existence, they all tensed at once, leaving him stiff as a board, frozen in terror. But he could work with this, right? Yes, he could! He could work with this! He could improvise, he improvised all the time-! Just don’t move…. Stanley looked into The Narrator’s eyes, his hands held tightly to his chest. …And he’ll lose interest eventually… Stanley moved his hand. It trembled as he held it out in front of him, slowly reaching forwards. Stanley… ? Stanley bit his lip. Wait, Stanley, what are you doing-? And Stanley touched him. The boggled look on the Narrator’s face shattered any previously-held records in the history of boggling. Stanley was touching him. Stanley’s hand was touching him. Stanley’s… warm, gentle hand... the pads of his fingertips slightly rough, slightly calloused. Each one a scar from another life; from the only life he’d known before The Parable. Continuously, rhythmically pressing buttons, over and over. Day in, day out. Broken fragments of memory flashed before the Narrator’s eyes in a sudden flood of noise; a disjointed, jumbled mess, utterly out of context and out of order. The taste of coffee in a paper cup. Stanley’s eyes. The bubble of the water cooler. Conversation. Buttons marked “YES” and “NO”. His hands, his human hands, nails painted in an office-appropriate shade. A phone ringing. Stanley’s smile. A rising sense of panic. A snippet of a half-finished anecdote. Waking up. Blacking out. Laughter. Fire and pain and then nothing. A lunch break. An office-mandated birthday cake. A board meeting. An office-wide memo. Stanley’s hands. Stanley’s hands. He felt the tears welling up. He wrestled with the memories that hardly made sense, momentarily gaining the upper hand, only to find himself smacked senseless by the feeling of overwhelming grief that spiraled out of the current moment and skewered his heart. He twisted his head this way and that - desperately trying to get his stupid, stupid body to move! This was wrong! This was all wrong! “STOP!!!” The Narrator screamed, finally managing to pull away Stanley recoiled as if he’d been burned, and the Narrator turned from him, clutching the sides of his head as he struggled to get a grip, struggled to cram all of those horrible, horrible feelings back down inside himself where they belonged. NO NO NO NO NO NO-! The illusion is ruined! He definitely knows it’s me now! But ahead of him lay his last hope. His last chance at salvaging something, anything, from this horrendous mistake he’d made. The display area! If I can just get to it then I won’t have to face him! he thought to himself. He’d have to be quick, he’d have to take advantage of Stanley being distracted, but he could do this. He could make it! He could… he could just figure out the rest later, he had to GO! The Narrator started to run; and realized his fatal mistake too late. Inside his inhuman, transparent stomach, a sizable amount of liquid sloshed noisily back and forth. The more he ran, the more it sloshed. Back and forth, back and forth. Slish, slosh, slish, slosh… the momentum of each wave slowly building... and building... until-! “AH!!” One of his feet caught on an uneven memory of grass. All that heavy liquid, all that momentum, SLOSHED all the way to his front. And as these things tend to work with the laws of physics, the weight sent him tumbling forward onto his stupid idiot face, sliding across the ground a few feet before he finally came to a stop. The Narrator rocked gently back and forth from the still-sloshing liquid in the transparent globe of his belly, knowing exactly how he looked. It was a sight that would leave a professional circus clown weeping; hanging up his red nose and floppy shoes for the last time, his worldview in ruins. Witnessing such a sight, he’d know, deep in his heart, that no carefully coordinated pratfall or precisely timed nose honk - not a single artfully-placed whoopee cushion or expertly thrown custard pie - could ever come close to such breathtaking buffoonery. This is it. Stanley is never going to take me seriously ever again. The tears came thick and fast now, leaving the despairing Narrator gasping for breath between sobs. He’ll laugh at me. He’ll mock any sort of narrative I’ll try and create. Anything I try, no matter how wonderful, no matter how meaningful, it’ll be just a big joke. Like ME. Stanley stood over the Narrator, casting a shadow over him as he lay on the floor. The Narrator glanced over his shoulder, his fingers digging into the memories of grass and dirt beneath them and ripping them apart. Suddenly, hopelessness had given way to white-hot fury; Go on, he silently, bitterly urged his protagonist. Do it, you cretin. Finish me off. Put me out of my misery. Break my story! Break my heart! Break ME! Burn it all down, grind it all into the dirt where it belongs-! Stanley held out his hand. The Narrator looked up at him, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He was - for perhaps the first time in his life - speechless. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile; a man named Stanley had overstepped, and he knew it. <It’s you.> He’d signed, mere moments ago. <It’s really you… > Oh of course that shrill, annoying little voice in his head known as Common Sense had screamed at him endlessly. It stomped its little feet, tore out its hair, hammered its little fists on the bars of the bespoke and utterly inescapable cage that situations like this always built to contain it. No, stop! It cried. You mustn’t! But Stanley’s hand had moved of its own accord. He just had to know. He had to know if what he was seeing in front of him was really, really real. He had to know if what seemed like a memory of a dream of a memory - of someone he’d once felt close to - actually meant something. And then he’d touched The Narrator. Stanley’s hand shook when it had first met that plastic cheek; but feeling the smooth surface, he couldn’t help but relax from its reassuring familiarity. It was almost like a button, if a button was surprisingly warm. And despite feeling almost exactly like plastic, there was something indescribable, something wonderfully and beautifully alive about it. This was plastic with a pulse, and it made his fingertips tingle... His gently questing fingers found hair next. If he’d been one for poetry, he might have compared its color to fresh-fallen snow, kissed by the morning sun, but such metaphors escaped a mind such as his. Stanley was a simple man; not stupid, at least not usually, but his world had been small before the Parable swallowed him up. His memories of his old life were limited mostly to what he’d done at the office. But he vaguely remembered seeing a color like that, at work, in some kind of context… by the water cooler, during some kind of talk… and he knew he’d wondered, more than once, if it was as soft and fluffy as it looked. And as he stroked it gently... yes, apparently, it was that soft. A little stiffer than he’d imagined, maybe, but at least it looked nice and fluffy. Stanley felt a blush spreading across his cheeks. He hadn’t been sure what to think at first, but one word was slowly coming to mind, and that word was- “STOP!!!” Suddenly, abruptly, Stanley half-remembered and half-realized that softness was attached to The Narrator, and the shock may as well have electrified his arm. He pulled away; and seeing The Narrator’s reaction, his poor, simple heart sunk all the way to his feet. He knew he’d pushed things too far, he knew he’d done something dangerously close to Workplace Inappropriate Physical Contact, but had he hurt him-?? The Narrator turned and tried to run. Stanley scrambled after him, longing to cry out; Wait, please! I’m sorry! Don’t despawn again! The Narrator tripped and fell. Stanley, overcome with worry, rushed to his side, extending his hand. The Narrator just… looked at him. He was breathing heavily, his eyes full of tears, his fingers covered in dirt and crushed bits of grass. <I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!> Stanley signed repeatedly; in his desperation, he couldn’t even remember the next part of the Workplace Apology Procedure. The Narrator was still silent; and Stanley’s heart sunk further and further as his frustration grew and grew. Half-formed signs spilled from his shaking hands as his own tears began to rally the troops, fat drops ready to march down his cheeks in double time as he bit his tongue - why was this so hard, why was this so hard?? Mustering every bit of bravery an office worker of his rank possibly could, Stanley fell back on his last resort. Extending his hand again, he crossed the fingers on his other hand, holding them up so The Narrator could see them clearly; <R> Next, he held two fingers up; <U> His fingers formed a circle; <O> And lastly, two fingers split, like a peace sign; <K> “Am I… okay??” The Narrator’s words were strangled with emotion; but just hearing him say something, say anything, was enough for a wave of relief to wash over our daring hero. Smiling, Stanley beckoned with his extended hand, and The Narrator finally grasped it. It was soft, like the tasteful suede they used for the chairs in the Boss’ Office, and Stanley found himself subconsciously running his thumb over a line of neat stitches as he helped the poor man off the ground. The Narrator teetered on his feet for a moment, seeming unsteady. Stanley tilted his head slightly; what was that strange sloshing noise… ? But The Narrator sniffled, bowing his head again, and Stanley immediately snapped to attention. Yes, he knew just what to do! Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a packet of Office-Issued Disposable Handkerchiefs - an employee’s best friend for any sneeze, sniffle, or non-fatal accident involving coffee - and handed one to The Narrator. “Oh, Stanley… ” The Narrator dabbed at his eyes, and blew his nose like a foghorn. Stanley looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and utterly helpless confusion. He could only ever recall hearing him so utterly distraught once before, and that was… not a memory he really wanted to dig into. Was this really his fault? Had he deviated too much? Had he ruined his story again… ? “I don’t understand… I just don’t understand… ” sobbed the Narrator; ”Why are you being so nice to me?” Stanley was utterly dumbfounded. He couldn’t even bring himself to start signing, but the What!? was so implicit that The Narrator looked up in surprise <BECAUSE! I’M! HAPPY! TO SEE YOU!> Stanley signed with undeniable emphasis, holding his hands right at the Narrator’s eye level. Unable to hold back his own tears for a fraction of a second longer, the armies came marching forth in torrents. Stanley was happy. Stanley was angry. Stanley was frustrated, overwhelmed, overstimulated, and so desperate he felt like he was drowning. His lip quivered, his whole body shaking from the effort, but he had to do this, he had to be brave. This was what he’d waited for. This was his hope. Somewhere, far far back in his memories, something stirred. Before the Parable. Before beginnings and endings. Before he’d ever known what a ‘Reset’ was, those memories were reaching out to him. Memories of a face half-remembered, and a name long forgotten. Memories of someone speaking his name, over and over, instead of addressing him simply as ‘427’. A kindly smile. Uproarious, mischievous laughter. Coffee with cream and a disproportionate amount of sugar. Passing a slice of store-bought birthday cake, and accidentally brushing hands under the paper plate. <STAY!> And stories. Every day, there were stories. The other employees called it rambling, called it irritating, called it inefficient and unproductive… but to him, they were little stories… <HERE!!> Stanley strained from the effort. <PLEASE!!!> And The Narrator touched him back. Stanley froze in place. He was hyperventilating, gasping for every breath between silent sobs, but his hands finally lay still. The Narrator’s hands were holding them; silencing them. But Stanley didn’t mind; in fact, he welcomed it. He was at his breaking point. His heart and his head were both full to bursting. So many feelings. So many words. This wasn’t what he was good at. This wasn’t what he was meant for. But now, standing right across from him, was someone who was. Standing there, gently holding Stanley’s hands, was me. His Narrator. Let’s shift the perspective again, shall we? —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ahhh, there! That’s much better… feels like having a really good stretch after you’ve been sitting in the same place for a while, don’t you think? Let’s just take a moment to let the story settle… to take a deep breath, maybe have a sip of water…. to appreciate just how far we’ve come. …Now, uh, where was I… ? Oh, yes! Anyway; slowly but surely, I found my footing again. Our heads had been in the clouds long enough, and now I was pulling us both back to Earth, back into whatever passed for reality in this place. My thumbs gently stroked the back of Stanley’s hands; giving him something real to cling to. Giving my nervous hands something to do with themselves. And the moment I saw the tension leave his shoulders, I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. <You’re really here… > Stanley looked down at my hands and their irremovable gloves. Despite my fears, there was no rejection, no cruel mockery; just quiet fascination. Again, that same look, as his eyes moved up from there to my chest and to my face. And needless to say, it didn’t take an omniscient narrator to understand what his eyes were asking me. “Yes, Stanley. Go ahead.” Stanley reached out; I leaned my head into his hand this time, letting him know me through touch. And don’t you dare pass judgment - this is very hard for me to admit to - but it took everything I had not to burst into soppy tears all over again. We were old friends who’d just met. Two halves of the same soul, reunited at last. Surely a meeting like this was written on all the stars in the infinite cosmos, and upon every grain of sand in the- Stanley reached out a finger and ‘booped’ my nose. He laughed uproariously; not at me, but with me, as I somehow found a small chuckle growing into a full-on belly laugh. I just couldn’t help myself! This entire, bizarre situation we’d once again found ourselves in… the two of us so helpless, messy, and stupid... it felt so good to come so utterly undone. We were just a couple of total idiots, Stanley and I. Standing there and giggling like lunatics. And then… I found myself overcome by a strange impulse of my own. Seized by a brief moment of temporary insanity, perhaps. Taking a small step back, I opened my arms. Stanley didn’t hesitate for a single second. He fell into them like he was coming home; like he’d just had the longest work day in the universe, and someone had just presented him with the fluffiest feather bed in existence. Nearly bloody bowled me over again, with all his enthusiasm. But I looked down at Stanley - and he looked so happy, well... uh... you know what? I’ll give you the incomparable joy of picturing in your head just how happy he was. What?? No, I’m not lost for words! Me? Lost for words? Ugh, of all the… no, no, let’s not ruin this. This one right here is all yours. No, go ahead, take it. Don’t say I never do anything for you. But, ahem - to continue our scene, we were both sitting down now, right there on the ground. Stanley had his ear to my stomach, listening to whatever the hell liquid is in there slosh back and forth, as he rocked himself gently in place. There was no way he could realize how he was reminding me, with each slosh, of what I am. Of how I’ve changed. Of what I’ve lost. But for the first time since I could remember… I didn’t hate it. At least, not entirely. Perhaps I could get used to that, in enough time. Around us, the memory of birds sang, and the memory of a breeze gently rustled the memories of grass and flowers. Somewhere in the distance, a memory of a piano was playing itself - ah yes, I’d almost forgotten about that. Perhaps we’d see it later. Perhaps we’d sit on the bench I’d placed nearby, and look at the view. Perhaps talk to one another, instead of just at one another. Yes… that would be nice, wouldn’t it… But between Stanley and I; right here, and right now? There’s a glittering silence between us; one that outshines any other memory I’d care to rescue from the scrap heap. Things, I realize, are falling into place. As gentle as snow, as warm and welcome as the light of dawn. This, I can tell, is what I’ve been waiting for all this time; what I’ve been striving for, over and over, with each and every branching path. A perfect moment.

#The Stanley Parable #TSP #TSPUD #Stannarrator #Stanley/Narrator #Fanfic #NO BETA WE DIE LIKE THE END IS NEVER THE END #UNREALITY WARNING: The last section has The Narrator addressing the reader directly and talking in first person

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the-ellia-west · 1 month

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Character Voice Tag time again!

Tagged by @illarian-rambling Thanks Mate!

My line: Of course I can drive! [So therefore we're going modern au edition!]

Marril: Give me the wheel. Huh? No. I don't need a license as long as ot gets us the hell out of Here!

Shyre: Uh... you can't drive? Let me. Yes! I know how! I just... Don't do it often!

Viasaki: Hey dummy. Get out. It's my car, I'll be driving.

Kila: I know what I'm doing! I'm a trained soldier!

Geon: DOESN'T MATTER, I can do this... I swear... [if you know why Geon driving a car is funny, good on you]

Damian: No, no, get out of the front seat, you are blind and I am older.

Sokuna: I literally got a new driver's license a week ago! And you think I can't drive???

Kasi: ...oh? Uh... yeah! I got my permit just a couple months ago... at... school [she's homeschooled]

Xhaazi: What am I supposed to say? Red light means stop, green light means go, what else is there to know? *turns the key*

Chrin: *simply shows you his permit* Please... don't let either of these idiots drive. This is legal because there's an adult here. Let me do it.

@agirlandherquill @willtheweaver @darkandstormydolls and anyone else who wants to! Your line is...

Fine... I'll do it. But this is a really bad idea.

If you thought this was interesting, please check out My In-progress Book: The Cursed One's Throne on my Blog ;]

#creative writing #fiction writing #writing community #writer things #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #writers #writer #the cursed one's throne

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sadeyedlady-writes · 5 months

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Welcome,

This is my pinned post.

(Last updated 29th March, 2024.)

First thing to know is that I very much welcome any and everyone to come talk to me about the books I'm insane about. Anon is on, DMs are open, I don't know how social interactions are supposed to go so there's no awkwardness here. Just come scream at me about characters or themes or whatever you want. There's no need to stand on ceremony. Also, I don't check my dash super regularly, so if you want me to see a post, please tag me in it or dm it to me! I won't think it's weird, in fact I'll be delighted, I promise!

If l ever unfollow you, please, please don’t take it personally. You are absolutely welcome to still interact with me, message me, etc. I never want to hurt anyone’s feelings, I just really try to curate my dash because otherwise it’s overwhelming and I don’t go on there at all.

I post fics on ao3 as sad_eyed_lady.

Here's the current list of fandoms I've written for, but for the most current list just go to ao3 itself:

The Idiot - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (7) Les Misérables - Victor Hugo (5) Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms (4) Brat'ya Karamazovy | Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (3) Prestuplenie i nakazanie | Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1)

I very much welcome comments, or if you're shy to comment publicly you're more than welcome to message me here; a few people have done that and it's made my entire life. Almost the entire purpose of fanfic for me is the sharing and community of it all.

I am not much of an artist, but occasionally I attempt to do an art when the fannish fervour strikes me. Appropriately enough, these attempts can be found under the tag #my attempts to do an art.

And finally, since tumblr's search function has become so abysmal that I can no longer find my own meticulously-tagged posts, I'm going to try to catalogue some of my messy analyses so that I can find them again. This will be an on-going wrangling effort on my part.

Dostoevsky, Fyodor, The Brothers Karamazov

Musings on class/position in society as relates to the interaction between Katerina Ivanvona and Grushenka in 1.3.10, and how this lens might shift our view.

Grushenka and active love

Healing the rift in The Brothers Karamazov and Crime and Punishment

Dostoevsky, Fyodor, Crime and Punishment

Some half-formed thoughts regarding parallels between Raskolnikov and Marius Pontmercy and why I'm so much harder on Marius despite, you know, the axe murders.

It was Sonya's window, maybe?

Why 2002 BBC C&P was wrong especially in the way they handled Lizaveta's murder

On Avdotya Romanovna shooting but not killing

Healing the rift in The Brothers Karamazov and Crime and Punishment

Dostoevsky, Fyodor, The Idiot

On Nastasya Filippovna engineering her role as the doomed victim in a gothic narrative

Nastasya giving Rogozhin the details of the murder

Rogozhin wasn't an unstoppable killer who would have killed her no matter what

Comparing and Contrasting Semyon Parfyonovich (Rogozhin's father) and Totsky

On Myshkin imitating Christ

Rogozhin's childhood

Ramblings on Rogozhin's brother, Semyon Semyonovich

Cycles in the Rogozhin family

Hugo, Victor, Les Misérables

Subcategory: Éponine Realities of the class dynamics between Marius and Éponine in the Brick as opposed to the musical Not an edgy girl who wants to be edgy Not a morally grey character Future trajectory/P-M involvement

Some half-formed thoughts regarding parallels between Raskolnikov and Marius Pontmercy and why I'm so much harder on Marius despite, you know, the axe murders.

A Thénardier turning the tables on Marius's dream

Misc Posts

Master list of all of my The Idiot fics in order

#pinned post #sadie nonsense

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dyrewrites · 19 days

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OC Questionnaire

Tagged by @kaylinalexanderbooks (here) but also stealin' @illarian-rambling's open tag (here) >.>

And I am tagging @rmgrey-author @raineaxolotl and leaving it OPEN

Your Questions:

Who is the most important person in your life?

What about the most important object?

What would you do if you lost them (either/or/both)?

->it's gunna be long so under the cut<-

My Questions:

How good are you with people?

"Darling, people are my forte. When you are as utterly charming as--excusez-moi--yes, treasure, you have an opinion?"

"My love, please, know that I say this with respect...you are terrible with people."

"Quoi? How am I terrible?"

"Seriamente? Yesterday, at the bakery, with the man at the counter?"

"Le nain? He brought me the wrong chocolate. The wrong chocolate. What did you expect me to do, treasure, thank him?"

"No, my love, of course not. But, perhaps you could have found an alternative to screeching until he was cowering in a puddle."

"Fine, you're the one that's good with...people. Can we move on?"

How would you function in a group project?

"I'll take this one, my love, if you don't mind?"

"Well, of course, treasure. We've already established who the people person is, so go right ahead, leave me out."

"How utterly charming of you."

"Do I need to find better uses for that mouth?"

"The questions first, my love, though that pinched little face you're making is quite tempting."

"Answer your fool question."

"Right, I would perform the function of leader or management I suppose would be the title. It is what I know and, whether I want it or not, those around me seem to...follow."

"Oh, so bragging is acceptable when you do it."

"It is accurate when I do it."

"Remember to tell the pillow that later, treasure."

We're going to move on now.

What's your most valuable possession?

"This beast over here, who had best answer correctly."

"The ice prince that keeps calling me names and whispering filth--smettila. Keep teasing and see where it gets you."

"Alright, alright, I'll stop...but ice prince?"

"Not good?"

"...I didn't say that."

What's the best thing you've ever eaten?

In unison, "The twice-filled drunkard from the masquerade."

"She was decadent, wasn't she, treasure?"

"Mm, yes, my love. None like her since..."

What's the worst injury you've ever had?

Ludovico wriggles his half-formed arm, "Lost my arm, it's growing in though, slowly. Slower than I expected."

"If that wretched thing hadn't destroyed our coffin..."

"What about you, my love? What's your worst?"

"Must I. Hm. My first morning as a vampire was the worst, m--my Mistress did not warn me of the sun. I spent what she told me was a year in pitch darkness and, and agony before I woke whole again, in the coffin...to the sound of her cackling. She--she replace all the scars my destruction erased immediately after."

"Shh, she's gone, my love, vieni qui."

"A new topic now, if we could?"

Do you wish you looked different?

"I'm quite comfortable with my appearance, save for the gray hairs."

"Oh, well, yes you would be, treasure--look at you."

"There's something in all my love's ethereal beauty he'd wish to change?"

"Flirt, and of course there is. Being mistaken for something I am not so often is not the delight everyone who does it believes. But who am I to fault them? I'm a stick of a thing with big eyes and long curls...why wouldn't they assume I'm a woman. What. Why are you looking at me that way?"

"I'm impressed."

"Insufferable more like...and by what?"

"How terribly you lie."

"Tais-toi."

"Make me, madam."

"That eager to lose your other arm?"

"That eager to see you take it."

We're going to stop now, before someone gets hurt...

#writeblr #tag games #oc questionnaire #before deluca #no one's getting hurt #that's never where that goes #open tag

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smalltimidbean · 4 months

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I'm putting this under cut for my own comfort, but be aware that I will be discussing certain types of art and how it is fetishised, to put it in the most blunt way jkgsdfl

Here's an unrelated thought I have no conclusion to, but it's been rattling around in my head for a sec

So in this post, Fiend was actually going to eat that anon - I had three drafts before the final one (One being Fiend spits up sunglasses, with the implication they ate the anon. Two being they had the anon in their mouth before Bean finds them like 'what do you have???' and Fiend swallows like a naughty dog eating plastic, and three being Fiend had the anon partly in their mouth (as punishment I guess??) and they got startled by Bean, making them swallow involuntarily) (should also probably be noted that the anon would have been fine in all variants, they respawn kdfgkga), and two of them were partly drawn before I decided against it

Mainly bc I didn't know what to cw tag that as (it's not cannibalism since Fiend is not an anon creature, and vice versa) - or rather, there was a tag I could have used (starts with v ends with ore), but that specific type of art is rather... Notorious, and I did not want to imply anything sexual, even if it would have never been my intention to do so

Although that being said, I am aware there is a SFW community where it is non-sexual, and no judgement either way, but there is kind of a reputation, y'know? And regardless of artist intentions, it can still be misconstrued - intentionally or not

And I suppose the more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable with the idea I was - not with the idea that Fiend can/has/probably will eat people, but the actual depiction of it on screen, and I am unsure as to why

Maybe it is the fear of my intention being lost, and it does end up being seen as something fetishistic. Maybe I am frightened to (unintentionally) push people away by drawing something 'weird' (negative), or the opposite, and I draw people in with an expectation or assumption, or they try to push my boundaries with seemingly 'innocent' questions, but when I feel uncomfortable, I'm the bad guy bc 'it was just a question'

If you cannot tell, I have had issues with fetishmining - or people pushing their kinks onto me, simply bc I draw fat people or some other thing that is commonly fetishised - before, and I am worried it will happen again (there are spaces to get your rocks off, here is not one of them kjdfkl)

That all also being said, again no judgement, and I don't mind people who are into that stuff following me (and I know there is, I have checked on blogs/in likes and found it jkdfslk), and no one (recently) has been like super uncomfortably weird about the things I draw

So I don't know! Like I said, there is no conclusion to this ramble - besides, maybe I will leave Fiend's taste in people (pun intended) implied and off-screen for now

#bean talks too much #vent tag #even if it is not really a vent and more of writing some thoughts but still #it does help to get the thoughts out or they will rot #okay time for bed and probably forget I ever wrote this lkjfgdkj

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outofangband · 6 months

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(Reposting this mini post because I inevitably had more to say also I’m still sick so like, apologies if this is even more rambling than usual)

Previous post on this

“Morwen (Brodda) had seen once when he rode to her house on a foray; but a great dread of her had seized him. He thought that he had looked into the fell eyes of (an elf) and was filled with a great fear lest some evil should overtake him. And he did not ransack her house nor discover Túrin else the life of the true heir would have been short.”

Just a fun linguistics note! Fell in this instance is an archaic word, meaning, fierce, cruel or terrible, and actually is where the word felon comes from

I know I already rambled about this forever here and in a number of posts in my word ran among them tag but I just literally cannot ever stop thinking about the language used in this scene

I will never not be obsessed with this passage. It’s such a visceral description of fear and it is entirely distorted. It’s such a jarring jump to the perspective of a minor villain figure, something that we don’t usually see in Tolkien, not like this

The language!! It’s so strong!

“A great dread of her had seized him”

“Filled with a mortal fear, Lest some evil overtake him”

Morwen looks at him and he is afraid for what? His life? His soul? He thinks Morwen, or what she can do*, is evil! It’s hard to explain but the use of the word here feels similarly jarring to the use of the word horror being used about this same character in BoLT, albeit for opposite reasons

What does he fear in that moment?

And just in that line! Lest some evil overtake him! Brodda clearly believes that the evil is the other! Not himself, despite his literally working for Morgoth! It’s just a really interesting line with such a plethora of implications.

It shows very clearly what he considers evil or at least what he doesn’t. It’s not what he’s doing to Aerin, it’s not what’s happening to the other Hadorians, it’s not the murder of a nine year old that the passage says would have happened if he had entered the house.

The evil, to him, is Morwen.

Another thing I think is interesting because when humans in Tolkien are compared to the elves it’s typically an honor! It’s because they’re seen as particularly beautiful or elegant or observant/sharp, etc but here it’s like…dehumanizing? Othering? It’s beyond a negative thing, it’s a call to violence that Morwen avoids then only because Brodda *is* so afraid of her. It’s not a fear there’s any safety in though. Quite the opposite.

I went into the legacy of this scene in the notes of my post on food control in post Nírnaeth Hithlum and am almost done with a longer post about this! But it’s so disturbing. Obviously what is most horrible about Brodda is what he does to Aerin - and she is often the most immediate victim of his hatred of Morwen, the most obvious example of this being how he beats her for her aid to Morwen (what I went into the implications of in the previously mentioned post). I do not want to ever mitigate this. But there are branches of misogyny overlap and there is something disturbing about his hatred of Morwen in itself as well.

Does this make sense? Again I have another post about this so I don’t want to go too much into this but I hope this makes sense.

*which of course she cannot actually do! I do love to make fun of Brodda endlessly for this scene but as I said in my main post about it, there’s absolutely nothing funny about it for Morwen. It’s terrifying and imbued with the threat of violence; not abstract or superstition based but real, tangible violence that Morwen, especially as a survivor of the Bragollach, has likely seen firsthand

Other note: I’ve always imagined that Morwen is standing in the threshold of her house and stepped out if not to confront him than to put herself between him and Túrin. I suppose it’s possible she was already outside or something, obviously there’s no way to know. But I personally have always imagined that she steps outside when she realized someone was approaching. I think the courage there is extremely profound especially as she had no way of knowing that Brodda would flee like that.

Final notes: someday I will post my writing of this scene from Brodda’s perspective because it’s one of my favorite pieces I’ve done lately.

#the silmarillion #the children of húrin #morwen #Aerin #musing and meta #word ran among them

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alienturnip · 2 months

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Finished FF16 a few days ago and I do have some (long) thoughts about it, so I'm noting them down below. Reactions include the Waloed & Origin arcs.

Tagging @zadien as you requested <3 My thoughts won't be organized but I'll try my best to articulate as I go. Wall of text alert!

I think this is yet another case of "the story didn't satisfy me a lot but the characters bewitched me body and soul" so here I am at the end of the roads... with a lot of grievances toward how the story was structured & written but also impossibly attached to the cast haha, needless to say I have fanart ideas planned and incoming.

Things that I enjoyed a lot:

CliveJill's scene with the snow daisies, where she tells Clive that she wants to spread her wings after all this is over. MY GIRLFRIEND... YOU SHALL HAVE THE WORLD.

Jill being so good with acting dkfjsl <3 <3 she's so cute....

Jill being as much of a ruthless mtfk as Clive, they're soooo in tune when it comes to wrecking havoc

Everything about Joshua he brings SO SO MUCH to the table both with his personalities and the themes he represents. I would ramble if not for fear of this post's length...

Dion's contradictory demeanor hahahahaha - he insisted everyone call him "Dion" but wouldn't shut up about "Ifrit" and "Phoenix", he also refused Harpocrates' gift but then gave another to Clive 2 seconds later, then sauntered off without even checking if Clive likes it or not...

I generally bemoan the lack of discussion on Dion's relationship with his country's imperialism and his hands in that (like, everything about him was perfect to address that topic even in very brief ways?), BUT I highly enjoyed Dion's theme about the loss of personhood and to be reduced to a vessel of power and worship, his multifaceted relationship with the concepts of power & duty & hierarchy. So subtly yet powerfully done with so little screen time... I think Clive's own engagement with the theme (which is supposed to be his central theme) comes short in comparison.

Dion's side quest with Harpocrates also scratched my brain in INCREDIBLY ways, but again I won't ramble too much in this post...

(Hahaha by this point I think everyone knows who my fav is)

Dion & Joshua's dialogues are all so well-written (maybe save for Joshua's last speech...)

Everything about Mid & Gav, they're beautifully done, I love them they have such solid places within the narrative and lovely personalities too. When I watched Mid navigating the Entreprise I was just squealing and cheering for her! Her talking about the dream of flight and the danger it might entail, and her plan of turning such a weighted topic into a lighthearted treasure hunt! My gosh 💗 Gav's drinking scene with Clive is also especially touching, I felt a lot for his burdens.

Lady Isabelle may I have your hand in marriage--

Clive holding Joshua or clutching his body...... breaks me every time I love love LOVE tragic siblings

I can honestly write an essay for each of the characters (especially Jill & Dion my thoughts about them are overflowing) but they will have to be separate posts at this point, let me know @zadien (or anyone else reading this 🫣) if you'd like me to talk some more.

NOW onto the criticisms proper...

Waloed & Origin arcs were pretty underwhelming, mostly because I feel like they haven't offered anything new that wasn't already resolved in the previous arcs...? I enjoyed Barnabas' vibe but his impact on me was a big fat 0, and here comes the conundrum because, well, I'm guessing him being emotionless & devoid of a personality is supposed to be the point with his worship of Ultima, but even that was not done well... All his bedroom scenes kinda ruined all of that, not to mention the out-of-nowhere 'mother' appearances that the story doesn't even bother to explore aside from showing her naked body (Benedikta got the same treatment after her death my god I'm so sorry my beloved)...

Idk what I'm supposed to take away from the character and, in consequence, the Waloed arc? I know nothing of who he was, his dialogues didn't even match Clive's growth at that point - again, why is Clive questioning his humanity NOW of all time, when the story has been going so well? Could they have, idk, shown Clive's fear coming back to him after reuniting with Joshua & discovering Dion's descend to madness, so that they can segue into the Waloed arc more smoothly - that despite Clive's best intention he may lose all his control at the most crucial point and ruin all that he holds dear (like Dion), and that he never let go of his guilt at Phoenix Gate, and having Joshua back unwittingly brought back the nightmares he'd lived with for 13 years? Maybe that would give his identity crisis at the beach some more substance instead of "Barnabas bested me twice and now I'm wet and sat" situation he got going on... I am thankful for Mid & Dion's arc & CliveJill romance & everything about Joshua but the main villain & plot points felt so distant... MY BRAIN WAS NOT SCRATCHED

(I adore Mid & Dion & Joshua hahaha they're so colorful in 3 entirely different directions, my silly children)

I am also not really convinced by Ultima's writing. The plot reveal of him being a God who created humanity but then abandoned us all *could* have been pretty powerful and on point if it wasn't executed in such fragmented ways. If only they dig deeper into one or two specific aspects of that concept to explore...

I am especially fond of the idea of Ultima as symbolic for "the absent parent" and "the narcissistic parent" (both in the intimate familial context and the wider context of head-of-state/leader figures), which could have paralleled SO WELL with Anabella & Sylvestre & EVEN ELWIN had they not cut off Anabella's presence immediately after her death, or had they make Dion reflect deeper upon his relationship with his father beyond "I killed him I am so sad", or had they make Joshua's and Clive's memories of Elwin more complicated - maybe in how they (especially Joshua) worshipped his as their father & leader, but less so as a man, someone human & flawed? And then they can explore how the children gaining autonomy & freedom despite their parents & the circumstances that shaped their childhood as a direct mirror to them breaking away from Ultima? The frustrating thing is, I THINK they did try to do that, what with all the Inner Voice snippets and the initial buildups and all, but the execution keeps coming up short...

Ultima & the Eikons as symbols of "power that binds & enthralls" in contradiction with Clive's fight for a "free world" could've been much more relevant and poignant if maybe they allowed us to get more invested in Ultima's backstory (flashback cutscenes perhaps? more involved murals? a more multifaceted discussion around the concept of will? some attempts at humanizing Ultima's race so that when Clive says "you're just like us" we feel it a bit deeper?) instead of just having the guy monotonously narrating all the plot twists... my god. Not to mention all the on-the-nose dialogues of power of friendship & crude slavery allegories... I don't know! I think Square did NOT do it well in this one.

That's all I can pull from the top of my head at the moment! Ready to hop into replies or asks to talk some more, but yea!

#ff16 #I have both love and frustration for this game in equally intense measure #hoping that the general impression didn't come off as being too negative but yeah...#...at this rate I am just listing all my wishful thinking for things that might have happened #trying to rewrite the game in my head etc. etc.#On an unrelated note #I was fighting the Knight of Splendent Heart and was again filled with longing for A TERENCE BOSS FIGHT #for twinside arc #that'd be my dying wish...#Just-- Square #listen #just lift these moves in wholesale #or maybe even reuse Clive's later Bahamut skills #MAYBE DION BLESSED HIM LIKE JOSHUA DID CLIVE I DON'T KNOW--#jura plays ff16 #ff16 spoilers

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