Guide To IPA Symbols

WHUMP PROMPTS INVOLVING COLLARS

trigger warnings: torture, dehumanization, blood and gore, PTSD (everything in this is entirely fictional meant to inspire writers)

whumper making whumpee wear a collar with whumper’s own name on it, so that everyone knows who owns whumpee.

collar that will only keeps on tightening around whumpee’s neck until whumpee says please.

prong collar. except instead of a dog, it’s wrapped around whumpee’s neck.

whumper having two different collars for whumpee, one with the words “good dog” engraved on it and the other with the words “bad dog”, depends on how whumpee behaves that day — whumpee is terrified whenever whumper puts the “bad dog” collar around their neck, because it means they will get punished; and so they try their very best to always be a “good dog”.

whumpee trying to remove their collar by themself by scratching and digging their nails into their skin until they bleed.

collar with barbed wires that bite into whumpee’s neck each time whumpee moves or breathes. the chances of infection and necrosis are high if left on and untreated for too long.

whumpee not being able to stop absentmindedly trace their fingers over their bruised neck where the collar used to be, no matter how long it’s been since their rescue.

post rescue. whumpee having difficult time speaking, eating or drinking water due to the bruises around their neck that were inflicted by the collar they were forced to wear — this could cause them to stop talking or eating, or it could cause them to talk and eat less.

whumpee wanting (needing) whumper to own them. they beg whumper to please put the collar on them again. please please please please don’t abandon them.

whumpee having been brainwashed into thinking that having a collar around their neck means they’re not a stray. thus they think caretaker is going to abandon them because caretaker didn’t put a collar around their neck like whumper did!!!!

whumpee having a panic attack. they’ve lost their collar; the collar was their shield telling others to fuck off because “this one is already taken”. but now there isn’t a collar around their neck anymore, they are going to scent an unowned meat, and they are going to crawl out of the shadows to feast on whumpee.

whumpee attacks whumper, but they are abruptly stopped when whumper activates whumpee’s shock collar, leaving whumpee convulsing helplessly on the floor.

whumpee having PTSD from the collar where they, even without the collar, think they cannot breathe and so they start panicking.

whumper telling whumpee to wrap a collar around whumpee’s own neck by themself. whumpee having no choice but to obey when disobedience only means excruciating pain. they’ve learned their lesson the hard way.

whumper making sure whumpee sees themself wearing a collar by holding up a mirror in front of them. “look at you. surrender suits you. you’re so pretty with a collar around your neck.”

whumper letting whumpee choose which collar they want.

whumper, upon recapturing whumpee, holds whumpee’s old collar in their hands as they slowly approach whumpee. the sight of the collar alone is enough to break whumpee down.

whumpee having an episode in which they attack every doctor and every nurse who’s trying to help them. caretaker hates to do this, but they have no choice but to threaten whumpee by saying they will have to put a collar on whumpee again if whumpee isn’t behaving, knowing what whumpee went through during their time with whumper. it works because whumpee, despite trembling like a leaf, stops trying to hurt themself and the hospital staff right away. and the fact it works breaks caretaker.

whumpee burning their collar after they escape whumper.

caretaker applying salve on whumpee’s neck to ease the pain caused by the collar whumper made them wear.

whumpee being extremely paranoid and not letting anybody get close to their neck, without having a panic attack, after their rescue. caretakers are trying their best because, in order to properly treat whumpee, they have to be able to inspect the damage on whumpee’s neck so that they can offer treatment accordingly.

whumpee feeling the needs to always wear a scarf to hide the bruises around their neck that were caused by the collar whumper made them wear.

whumper making whumpee say thank you and kiss the back of whumper’s hand each time whumper puts a collar on them.

whumper clasping a collar around whumpee’s neck without no warning, catching whumpee off guard. by the time whumpee realizes what’s happened, it’s already too late.

whumper giving whumpee a collar that matches whumper’s dog’s collar. so now whumper has two pets!

whumper pulling whumpee in for a kiss on the lips, by yanking the chain attached to the collar around whumpee’s neck, eliciting an involuntarily moan from whumpee.

whumper touching their hand to the collar around whumpee’s neck, running their finger over it and leaning in to breathe the scent of whumpee’s hatred, fear, and possibly arousal.

characters on the run

always so tired. driving for hours and hours in whatever shitty beater they find or steal, downing caffeine and too many five-hour energy shots pickpocketed from some gas station

sleeping cramped up in some bus or train seat, slumped over in a transit terminal, hoodie pulled up tight in the hopes of not being recognized

nodding off but jerking awake every single time, exhausted but hardwired to be paranoid even with caretaker's gentle touch and quiet reassurances trying to get them to rest

so much time spent running or fighting they eventually just crash. stoic characters slumped and snoozing, trying to keep watch and instead getting some much needed rest

lurching awake in a cold sweat, gasping and trembling, bandages wrapped tight up and down their torso

"we're safe here. i promise."

"it's okay-- it was just a dream, i didn't hear anything..."

shot or stabbed while trying to lose a chase. limping through crowds, desperately acting causal, traces of blood left on everything they touch

collapsing and drawing a scene, strangers asking questions and touching all over. having to slip away from concerned bystanders before actual help (or trouble) arrives

washing off in some shitty public bathroom and leaving behind a horror show of bloodied paper towels and smeared fingers all over porcelain, too out of it and in a rush to actually bother cleaning up

character bleeding out and semiconscious and caretaker doesn't know what to do, has nowhere to go. desperately trying to drag them along as the threat gets closer and closer, or hiding and waiting and begging for them to wake up

when it's too dangerous to go to a hospital. makeshift first aid in the back of some car, breaking into a vet clinic after hours, slumped over in a dank alleyway or dirty bathroom. shaking fingers and dim lighting and nowhere comfortable to recover

all of the places to lie low are sketchy as hell. trap houses, back rooms, dive bars, strip clubs, late night joints where passing acquaintances are somehow okay with shady strangers crashing on their couch. always surrounded by a bad crowd and caught up in seedy shit

wearing the same clothes which get increasingly fucked up. fabric lost to makeshift bandages or tourniquets, blood stains and sweat, the same hoodie passed between characters getting worn and sentimental

long sleeves, oversized clothes, shitty makeup, hoods and sunglasses and hats, anything to hide their identity and all of the bruises and cuts

barely any money to their name. having to choose between filling up on gas or eating, counting remnants of change, stealing food or dine and dashing out of necessity. barely scrapping by and working any job on the low, just oh so easy to take advantage of

getting sick, but it's not like they get a break from running. feverishly wandering around, catching concerned looks from strangers, never getting the chance to rest properly so they just get worse and worse

getting so desperate they eventually call for help. trembling and hunched over in a phone booth, nervously knocking on caretaker's door, so rundown and pitiful of course they wouldn't be turned away, where the fuck have they been?

decided to put these in a bit of a chronological order as i can’t help but form a story behind the scenes. it’s a storyteller’s habit. and yeah i do have an idea i would genuinely like to explore with gail simone as a crossover comic. 

i don’t want to be the writer for this. but at the same time i always found diving into these things and exploring the character chemistry was the best way to get an artistic feeling for it.

this is also how i usually develop my own stories.

anyhow, while many think this is me drawing some shipping, in fact this a proof of concept for an adventure story  featuring lara and diana. Gail simone at some point asked if they would kiss and i gave it some genuine thought. i am a character first kind of a writer, myself, so i contemplated this. then i decided, yes, probably.

after all, romantic subplots have been the bread and butter of adventure writing since its inception and i always liked that aspect of adventure stories.

 i hope this puts some things in context from my end XD

and while there will probably be a few more of these, there will be no nsfw pics. after all, camera pans away from indiana jones in those moments as well  XD

okay… there may be a chance of a kiss… but that’s about it. 

Day X

Damaged Goods

Quincy was in the market for a droid, so he went to the nearby shop, Empori-Droid. It was blindingly white inside, "new and improved" models on the display floor and in the window next to older models. While the new models were awesome and generated revenue, it was the older models that generated the most.

He looked through the sleek models. They were beautiful, but not quite what he was looking for. Eventually he saw a retired military droid off in the corner. It... called to him.

"What about that one?" He pointed.

"Oh," the saleswoman said, obviously uncomfortable, "We were supposed to put that one it the back. It got messed up and we needed to get rid of it." She moved toward it, but Quincy countered with, "I'll buy it." She froze and looked at him.

"R-Really?"

"$100,000"

"Uh, that's... that's a lot for a damaged, broken model."

"Give me the basic, no, advanced package for 150."

"Uhm.... Let me... talk with my supervisor, but, ummm, I'll see what we can do."

List of Names

A list full of names you can use for your stories.

Fantasy Names

Fantasy Names II

Fantasy Names III

Dark Academia Names (Girls)

Dark Academia Names (Boys)

Dark Academia Names (Genderneutral)

German Names (Girls)

German Names (Boys)

German Names (Genderneutral)

Random Names Part I

Random Names Part II

Random Names Part III

Random Names Part IV

Random Names Part V

Random Names Part VI

Random Names Part VII

Random Names Part VIII

Random Names Part IX

Random Names Part X

Names with Cute Nicknames (Girls)

Names with Cute Nicknames (Boys)

Mythological Names

Botanical Names Part I

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My, my...

365 days...

Sounds about right.

Starting... tomorrow.

YOU— YEAH YOU! DO THIS THING WITH ME!

THIS IS YOUR AGGRESSIVE SIGN TO CREAT EVERY DAY FOR ONE YEAR.

Okokokokok so the goal is essentially what I said above. Write/draw something every day for a year. I know that sounds like A LOT but even if you can spare 2 minutes in your day to quickly scrible something into your notes app that's perfect.

Why should you bother with this?

You will end up at 365 pieces by the end of the year

you will improve your skills

you are bound to find some gold

even if you miss 1/3 of the days you will still have 243 things!!!

helps you be more in tune with your feeling (especially if you treat it like a journal)

you can try out different styles in a judgement free zone

uhhhh you love me

you will learn how to be more creative

you will have content to post on your blog/publish/submit to contests

you will have something to keep you going/motivated

you won't be alone

AND LOTS OF OTHERS I DONT HAVE TIME FOR

So this is your sign to write with me

(don't worry about starting on the same day just start making stuff)

I will be posting the things I write on @rheas-poetry-motivation

JOIN ME 🫵

Tagging people for reach and cause i love my moots:

@mister-dirty-hands, @bamb1fawn, @outromoony, @themortalityofundyingstars, @garden-of-runar

@ancientpokemonrock, @ang3lic-t3ars, @justiceforplutoo, @albatris, @gayafaaryn

@lorelangdon, @imastoryteller, @chaoticcandle, @gildy-locks, @jamespotterbbg

@seekmemystar, @tequilaqueen, @picklerab23, @a-k-oblackhat, @leahnardo-da-veggie

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

"Strong? Nothing strong is meant to be forever. You need time to rest, restore that energy, and resume. Don't let my appearance stop you from resting."

Writing Prompt #2938

"I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be strong." She buried her face in her hands, hoping to hide the tears on her face.

"You are strong. You're okay to keep going. Take all the time you need."

why is biopunk only ever used as horror? Where’s the biopunk equivalent of cyberpunk edgerunners? Give me a Sci fi setting with dungeon meshi style chimeric modifications as a primary worldbuilding mechanic.

extra arms, giant monster body from the waist down… go to a sketchy grafting parlor and get some budget bioelectricity organs that give you Lichtenberg burns every time you use them. Give me a character that wears a mask for half the story and then reveals that they’ve got three rows of teeth, six tongues, and heavily paralytic saliva.

I don’t know, maybe Tumblr User Heron Knight Georg, who repeatedly fantasizes about molting like a cicada, gets gender envy from bloodborne bosses, and thinks that the Bone Turner’s Tale would be the perfect summer read, is an outlier and should not have been counted, but I know what website I’m on. I know just how gender affirming having six arms or feathers instead of body hair would be for most of the people here.

I think there’s some potential here if biopunk is used for more than scorn-level H.R Giger dystopian shenanigans. Give me biopunk 2077.

What about a sub!villain who tries to play the part of the suave, dominant villain cause they’re afraid of vulnerability… and an actually dominant hero who sees through it and flips the script. Could it also be spicy please?

Also, your writing is amazing and it makes my day better! Thank you so much for sharing it! I send you hugs!

"You may think you're deceptive. But you are not." The end of the villain's dagger nearly buried its way into their own skin. Although the villain couldn't recall when the hero had gotten a hold of it during the fight, they were quite pleased with the result. (The result being the hero on top of them, still panting from the fight.) "Your effort is quite delightful, though."

The villain cracked a smile.

"Oh, you want to ravage me so bad..."

"Your imagination doesn't even come close to how bad I truly want that," the hero answered.

There was something in their presence that stirred the villain in an exciting way. Was it their body? Their personality? Their morals and their desires? Usually, the villain considered themselves to be talented when it came to reading people and analyzing the relationships they had with them.

For better or worse, it was different with the hero. More confusing. More dangerous.

At this point, the villain was playing with fire - they didn't know exactly what their relationship with the hero was nor where they stood.

"I loathe you for being my only weakness." The hero let the blade dig into the villain's chin until they looked up. "And destroying you would probably bring me some peace."

"Oh." The villain had never heard such a blunt statement coming from the hero. At least not something this personal and...open. It nearly made the villain sick to their stomach how casually the hero had mentioned it.

Slowly, the hand which wasn't holding onto the dagger travelled up the villain's arm until those cursed fingertips found a shaking wrist and grabbed it.

"But what am I without you? What is Orpheus without his muse?"

"You're so charming today..." The villain tried to sound as flirty as they could but their voice was inexplicably trembling.

When had the hero decided to be so horrible and seduce the villain? And why on earth was it working?

"How does that make you feel?" the hero asked, their voice nothing more than a whisper. They freed their index finger from their grip around the villain's wrist and slowly, agonizingly, let it travel upwards. The villain took in a sharp breath, surprised by the hero's actions.

It felt a little too intimate. Nearly immoral.

The villain felt quite stupid for blushing, after all, it was just the hero's finger rubbing against their palm and their breath on the villain's neck.

"I'm..." The villain tried to concentrate but it wasn't that easy anymore. They closed their eyes, close to defeat already. "Sorry, what do you mean?"

Did the hero have to level their weight on the villain's hips? Did they have to say these things? Startle the villain like that? Couldn't they just flirt, try to kill each other and go home after?

Did the hero have to whisper something this close to a confession into the villain's ear?

"How does it feel to be my only weakness?" the hero murmured. Their grip loosened and slowly, their hand began their conquest towards the villain's fingers. "How does it feel to mean so much to me? To occupy my thoughts during the day? And my dreams during the night?"

Hell, the hero was dreaming about them?

"What are you doing...?" Suddenly, the hero let their fingers entwine, squeezing gently and for whatever reason, the villain took in a quick breath.

"I believe we both know you crave a superficial relationship. Something that makes you feel superior and secure. But I can tell you from personal experience that those relationships don't work out in the long run. They will make you feel miserable. They will make you feel worthless. If I want you, I will want you bare. And there is nothing I desire more." Their lips were close to the villain's. "In your own time, of course. You strip. Figuratively and literally, obviously."

"I- You-"

"I am always willing to help, though." The hero smirked lazily and squeezed the villain's hand. "There is no reason to feel ashamed. Or to feel weak. After all, you have me in your hand."

The villain couldn't say anything.

It had started as a normal fight. With the usual flirting.

And now, the villain was actually thinking about opening up to someone. To talk about all their horrible fears and the self-doubt. About all their mistakes and regrets.

This had to be some new weapon or master plan to turn the villain into a good person. Whatever it was, the villain feared they would think about this encounter for the months to come.

"I will keep this, though," the hero announced. They held up the villain's dagger and pushed themselves off the villain. "Everyone needs a memento of their beloved, don't they?"

All the villain could do was stare as the hero blew them a kiss and vanished into the night.