#First time publishing

[mikalwrites]

Check out the start of my mini series !!!

[snakeeyesdraws]

super paper Mario fans where you at 

[kyouka-supremacy]

Does it ever hit you alltogether that we know Dostoyevsky's ability now. Because. Wow. Dostoyevsky's first introduction happened in chapter 13. That's earlier than December 2013. People haven't known what his ability is in 10 years. And now after approximately 10 years and 6 months, we finally got to know.

And that's. Something.

[nevermeyers]

There's absolutely no way people are now saying that all the gege-hate train is just an internal joke of the fandom. There's no way you're this out of touch with what has been happening.

I've been in the fandom since 2020 and it doesn't take a lot of smarts to see there's been a change in tone in the way some people say that in the last year. Since this new arc of history began, destructive criticism, massive hate and threats have overflowed into hundreds of profiles. It's no longer "oh, I hate Gege akutami" now and for a while now it's "I hate Gege akutami - his manga is horrible I'm gonna drop it (they never do) - he doesn't deserve popularity - he doesn't know how to write - he pretends to have an illness."

And yet, it's not normal to make jokes about wanting to kill someone, hon. Go check yourself if you find that funny, you're no better than let's-joke-about-sensitive-issues reddit incels

[bogleech]

I actually remember the first "negative" response I ever got on the internet, which was within maybe a month of discovering my first ever webforum, and it was honestly pretty fair because I was 12 or 13 and spamming the shit out of it but their comment was “you don’t need to start a new post every time there’s an update on your favorite kind of squid”

[marsspeedway]

COD HEADCANONS! (1?)

This is translated from Spanish so I'm really sorry if there is a translation error or a word that shouldn't be there!

SIMON RILEY GHOST

His casual outfit is really simple: jeans and a t-shirt or hoodie, his shoes of choice (usually his sneakers or boots) and a leather jacket if it's a more "formal" outing (a date?) or if he feels like dressing up.

Yes yes, balaclava on the base and cloth mask off the base.

Due to his past he has developed a defense mechanism of making jokes to "get over" or lighten his trauma.

After the betrayal of his team and his capture by Robas he basically got used to survive with very little. Therefore: he doesn't eat much, doesn't sleep much and is always in alert mode.

His chuckles are low, deep and feel mocking 99% of the time even though they are not. Instead his real laughter, his guffaws, are LOUD but very very strange to hear.

This man does NOT have a driver's license.

He has constant nightmares and/or night terrors so he tends to sleep very little.

Simon "Ghost" Riley is sleep deprived.

Ghost is the soldier, Simon is the human. So, Ghost is the armor that protects Simon, the tough exterior that protects the sensitive and too fragile interior. 

His room is simple, he doesn't have many belongings and the few he has are really valuable for him.

Ok yes, "Ghost collects knives" or "Ghost collects guns" but... Ghost collects lighters.

Bonus if you think he's a smoker.

Bonus X2 if you think he's an EX-Smoker!

Sleeping near Soap, or cuddling him, surprisingly calms him down (considering how much he dislikes and discomforts physical contact).

Soap is like his safe place, then Price follows, but he doesn't get that close to him physically (almost not at all really).

His closeness to Price has been very helpful to him, the man is a great listener and a great advisor and Simon can't thank him enough for always being there when he needs a shoulder to lean on or someone to give him good advice.

Ghost's "Fucking hell..." at the moment of meeting Soap in MW2 is mainly because he didn't expect to meet him again, he didn't expect to see him again after Makarov, let alone have to WORK with him again. It's not that he dislikes him, he just didn't expect the guy to be HIS sergeant instead of Price's.

During "Alone" Ghost tells jokes and talks to help Soap through the bad time, to calm him down and help him move forward but he also does it for himself because damn: just betrayed at the border of a country/city they don't know, with the colonel who received them captured, with a (his) wounded and messed up sergeant who is the only ally he has right now and who in turn is trying to get to him, with mercenaries nipping at their heels... I think the poor guy has a right to be a little bad. Well, Simon is bad because Ghost seems to be hiding it well.

Hairless?

He tends to eat fast, very fast.

JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH

He told Price that they should make varsity jackets with the Task Force logo on them...

Guess who has varsity jackets with the Task Force logo on them?

OG!Soap (2009) hates dogs (according to a line of dialogue) but personally I think Reboot!Soap (the current Soap, the one from 2022) likes them quite a bit.

He's a bit (too much) hyperactive.

He tends to gift and buy things for Ghost, little trinkets or things he knows Simon can use. It goes from clothes to some toy he thinks Ghost might like, they are usually toy soldiers, little action figures or legos (or anything that reminds him of Ghost).

Simon keeps them all. Every single one, even if it's a rock or a note that Soap left him or a doodle that Soap gave him.

He's a freaking master with butterfly knife tricks.

No, he doesn't use them to impress Ghost....

Maybe he does...

Ghost pretends the tricks don't impress him but they do.

He gives me Golden Retriever Boyfriend vibes that can send a bomb to your house.

Let's not forget he's a 30 year old man, military, explosives expert who basically operates in an elite task force... I mean, he could easily kill you. But, still, he's got a nice vibe, he's sociable and it's hard to dislike him.

Bookworm! He'll devour a book in a matter of hours and if he likes it enough he'll do an essay or summary.

He's a homebody with a big, big family. And he would love to have his own family with his own little house in the camp.

To pass the time he usually draws and occasionally writes in his journal. That thing is a little bit of everything: drawings, notes, stories, a personal diary, etc. Anything goes in there.

He cuts his mohawk himself and also usually takes care of rookies' hair, or really anyone who asks (nicely).

He can actually do more than cut mohawks or shave heads, his mother knows how to cut hair and he learned how to do it himself.

You want him to braid your hair? Of course, he's the one! He grew up with several sisters, so of course he knows how to braid. Ponytails? Go ahead. A bun? Sure. You ask and he'll know what to do and if he doesn't, he'll find it.

He can cook a little, just enough to get by and not live on instant noodles and take-out.

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: Bakugou dies but comes back to life, “comes back wrong” trope, implied fighting, angst

When Bakugou died, you’re not sure how you went on living. Grief had taken over your life, sat you in the passenger side while it cruised off the highway into icy waters. And even then, you couldn’t find the energy to drown.

It’s why there’s a sudden uptick of energy when you’re promised to have him back. Some top scientists contact you months after his death, tell you to hurry down to the headquarters labs, come and rejoice for what you’re about to witness. And you’re horrified, to say the least.

“This isn’t my husband.” Are your first words when you walk in, watch the figure on the other side of the glass examine its own hands. It looks like your husband but—but his hair isn’t the right shade of blond all over. His nose bridge had a slight bump after a scuffle with a villain. He had a scar on his hand but—but it never looked like it was to sew a pinky beside the other fingers.

“Is that really my husband?” You ask next in disbelief, slowly entering the room. Bakugou’s head snaps up, his eyes a little brighter than you remember but—they hold so much emotion. So much memory, so much panic, so much guilt.

“I left you.” He mutters, his voice raspy and ragged, and you wonder if it’ll always be like this now. It makes you cry a little harder than it should, but you only embrace each other. He’s cold and his shoulders don’t hold the same mass and his back doesn’t carry the same scars. There’s one, jagged and rough, running down his back, and you think, you think that’s where they slipped a new spine in.

“Welcome back home.” You tell him, weeks after meeting him again, new and not totally—Katsuki. He’s stiff and he doesn’t immediately take off his boots when he enters, and it worries you. Makes you think if you’ve just let a stranger into your home, one that has stolen your dead husbands face. Makes you wonder if he’ll be as loving as Katsuki once was, or if he’ll become your monster looming over you with the guilt of not being able to rest anymore.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You whisper against his mouth one night, a little while after he’s moved back. You don’t know why you lay under him, why you let him nestle himself inside of you, why you let him hold you against his chest. Katsuki always ran his hands over your cheeks and neck whenever he held you like this, but this…man, only holds himself up with his hands resting beside your head. It’s alien, how he looks at you, how his hips are methodically measured with every thrust, how he kisses you every 8 seconds. You wonder if he’s more robot than Frankenstein monster.

“Why did you come back to me like this?” You ask him one night, barricaded in the bathroom away from him. You can hear his sobs on the other side, his pleading to be let in. He tells you he never wanted to come back if he had to be like this, that he’s sorry, please let him in, he misses the warmth of your skin, he’s never been so cold before, he’s never liked the cold.

“Is this considered cheating?” You ask yourself aloud one night, when Bakugou is forced back to the lab when he becomes too…un-Bakugou. To sleep with a man that is your husband in every way but? Your husband has been dead for a year now, and yet you stroke the chin of the man that tries so hard to be him everyday, but fails so miserably at it every time.

“I’ll come back to you right this time.” Bakugou promises to you when he’s strapped down to leave for the lab and before he’s sedated. But you don’t believe him—you never did. Your husband is dead, and this animated corpse has been nothing but a cheap mockery of everything you’ve lost and something you will never truly get back.

[dewywrites]

making him shy // isaac x reader

you fell for isaac's charm and ability to always make you laugh

he was always the one to make you flustered in whatever flirty remark he said

whenever you went over to the walters' house, everyone would always tease him about you

those were some of the only times you actually saw him get embarrassed

you liked seeing this shyer side of him and decided to try something new

instead of him always making you blush, you wanted to get back, and you told him something out of character

one day in class, he leaned towards you and whispered in your ear, "don't worry princess, i noticed you used a different shade of lipstick today. it looks really good."

"thanks for noticing, but i'm sure the color would look look much better all over your neck."

he was shocked, but immediately smirked and turned away

isaac couldnt look you in the eyes for the rest of the day

lee ended up approaching you to ask why isaac came out of class with his face red

[lijojo]

yandere! telepathic classmate headcannons

yandere! telepathic! classmate x telepathic! reader

premise: whenever someone falls into a pit of obsession with you, they open their mind and heart, therefore somehow giving you the ability to read your thoughts. having endured this for a long time, you’ve managed to avoid meeting disastrous ends with these admirers. that is, until you meet your new classmate (who claims it’s the first time you’ve met) who is somehow always able to see through your tricks. 

warnings: stalking, manipulation, unhealthy relationships

- thinking about yandere classmate! who, despite your claims, says it’s his first time meeting you. 

- yandere classmate! who has somehow stolen the hearts of your teachers and classmates alike with that dashing smile of his and amicable personality.

- yandere classmate! who you’ve sworn up and down that you’ve seen before. he looks so familiar, you can’t put a finger on it. 

- yandere classmate! who ignores all of your attempts to brush him off and always seems to be where you are. 

- yandere classmate! who greets you twice: once when he’s introducing himself to the class, and once in your head, in your thoughts. 

- hello, pretty thing. 

- yandere classmate! who’s thoughts are so...structured. who’s thoughts sound so scripted and unnatural yet you can’t call him out for it. as if he’s deliberately hiding from you. as if he knows. 

- yandere classmate! who you know has some sort of obsession with you but you just can’t read him. 

- yandere classmate! who somehow knows how to make you say yes to him, no matter how much you don’t want to.

- oh? you don’t want to help him bring the lab equipment back to the science classroom? well, you can’t, not when he’s asked you in front of everyone (including a very pushy, very expecting homeroom teacher). 

- you don’t want to study with him? well, you’re going to have to if you don’t want to fail calculus. he’s the top student in the grade, and everyone else seems busy. 

- you’re hiding in the corner during lunch to avoid seeing him? all of a sudden, he wants to eat in this specific spot in the corner of the school where no one goes to as well, conveniently right after you decided you wanted to eat there. 

- you want to go to your favorite bakery to relieve stress and forget about him? he’s sitting in that exact spot, your spot, the one you always go to to people-watch. and he’s sitting there with your usual order and an inviting smile. it unnerves you so much. 

- you don’t want to date him? you already are. he’s already told everyone through subtle social cues. by the end of the week, everyone thinks your dating, but doesn’t really let you know they know, convinced you like your privacy. 

- it isn’t until your friends ask you, offended that you kept something so important from them, that you realize what’s going on. 

- yandere classmate! who doesn’t accept your rejection, who just puts his hand on your shoulder and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. 

- yandere classmate! who interrupts every conversation you have with another guy. who wraps a possessive arm around your waist and presses a pretty little chaste kiss on your neck. 

- who thinks your mine, mine, mine, mine, whenever he sees you with someone else. 

- yandere classmate! who is somehow your partner in every group project, yet you somehow can’t get a read on how he accomplished such thing. 

- yandere classmate! who always knows what you have on your wishlist for every holiday and brings them to you wrapped in your favorite color. 

- yandere classmate! who one day slips up when he’s laughing with your friends that he’s somehow charmed without you knowing. 

- those same friends, who congratulated you on a happy relationship, happy you’ve managed to open up to other people. who you can’t bear to disappoint after years of being so-closed off and being a downer. 

- yandere classmate! who thinks you think reading my thoughts will change things? when will you give in and accept it? 

- yandere classmate! who pretends nothing is wrong when you freeze, baffled. instead, he kisses you on the cheek and your friends coo. 

- yandere classmate! after months of constantly making you say yes to his ‘requests’ finally lets you in on his secret. 

- yandere classmate! who now openly engages in telepathic conversations with you when employing his tricks. who smirks whenever you try to push him away. who enjoys the chase. 

- your thoughts are so pretty. won’t you decorate them with more thoughts of me?

[youremyonlyhope]

Wow, Eloise is so ahead of her time that she's reading Emma at least 6 months before it was even published.

[vertigoartgore]

Christian Goussale's cover for the French Fantastic Four album "S.O.S Atlantis" (Les 4 Fantastiques N°34, 1984).

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[daisywords]

Just submitted a piece to a publication for the first time ever 😍 can't wait to get my first rejection 😍

[nicosraf]

Silly question maybe but self publishing stuff confuses me. I was just wondering what you did for the barcodes on your book. Is it one you paid for or did you just go with the one Amazon gives you? Sorry if this was random! I just see you as self-pub goals so I was wondering.

DO NOT BUY BARCODES !!! DO NOT BUY BARCODES!!!!!!!!!!

So when you're setting up to self-publish, youre going to need an ISBN. If you're in the US, you need to buy these (from Bowker.com typically), or you can get a free one from your publishing platform — Amazon KDP, Draft2Digital, Ingram, or any of the others.

(The only issue with the free ISBNS that you get Locked to this printer, so if you get an Amazon ISBN, then you can only sell your book through Amazon or through Amazon's "expanded distribution") (I do not recommend Amazon's expanded distribution, really).

When you set up the cover and input the ISBN, the platform will generate the barcode and attach it.

For ex., here's me inputting the ISBN for (the old) Angels Before Man and then uploading the cover. Because I didn't check the box, it generated and added the bar code for me.

Something you should take into account when you get/make a cover is actually that the barcode is going to be slapped on and could potentially cover some lettering.

Before anything, you should generate a template for the cover using the cover generator that the platform you're using provides. If you're working with an artist, I really recommend sending this file to them, as well. This is how it looks:

I hope this is helpful! But yes, do not buy bar codes. Your ISBN, whether its free or not, will generate the bar for you. Good luck!!!!

[just-french-me-up]

Harmonies

Dream of the Endless / Hob Gadling | Human AU | Writer Dream - Voice Actor Hob | Explicit | 2.2k Porn with some Plot | Masturbation | Literal voice porn | Dream doesn't quite know what to do with himself honestly

@hardly-an-escape recently had this FABULOUS idea of acclaimed writer Morpheus who secretly publishes popular romance novels under a pen name, who shamefully gets off while listening to voice actor Hob Gadling acting out an explicit scene from one of his romance stories. I would say my hand slipped but this was 100% planned and thought through.

Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Early afternoon, Lucienne had told him. He gave a quick glance at the clock. 5:42PM. Early afternoon was fading into late afternoon one second at a time, with nothing to show for it.

Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Again.

This is stupid, he thought, frustration seeping in. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Surely, they had not finished editing or formatting the whole thing yet, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. Perhaps they had forgotten. Morpheus didn't usually request to be sent the beta recordings. He was more than happy to let them do their job unencumbered, trusting Lucienne to green light everything once it was done. Truth be told, he was barely involved in the whole audiobook side of things, except for, well, writing the damn thing in the first place and having his pen name slapped on the cover. Lucienne had arched an eyebrow at him when he'd asked for the latest recordings out of the blue, but had not been overly curious. A good thing, really. Morpheus carefully avoided any occasion that required him to lie through his teeth. This, no doubt, would have been one of them.

His phone buzzed, startling him.

[6PM 09/05/2023 – The Kindly Ones – Edit Zoom Meeting]

Morpheus turned off the reminder. Too many fires at once. That was his problem, his sister had told him once. Stretching yourself thin until you're see-through, she had said. She was not wrong, of course, although Morpheus would not admit it to her face. She would be far too smug about it.

He refreshed his inbox.

Inbox (1)

Morpheus froze and stared at the screen. There it was. Finally. His pulse racing, he reached for his headphones, struggling to plug it in in his haste. The file was slow to download, the recordings accounting for more than half of the book. Morpheus' fingers tapped impatiently against his desk as he watched the bar crawl to the finish line.

5:51PM.

Surely he could allow himself a quick browse through the file. The meeting with his editor―his other editor―wouldn't start for five more minutes, if not more, should they run a little late on their side. Morpheus found himself wishing they would. Unprofessional, a little voice admonished him.

He opened the file. It had been divided into sections, each corresponding to a chapter. Skip. Skip. Skip. He knew what he was looking for. The book had come out a year ago or so. He still remembered the outline well enough. For a while, he heard nothing but the initial breath of the voice actor, one for each chapter, before he would skip ahead. When he finally let the recording play, the voice engulfed him in its warmth.

Although Morpheus had been the one initially weaving the words and sentences together, they found another dimension and depth in that voice. He was rediscovering his work on someone else's tongue, and the effect left him... intrigued. A few voice actors had given life to the words on the page over the years but this one... This one breathed a soul into the story like none had ever managed to before.

When Morpheus had learnt Robert Gadling would narrate another one of his books, he could not resist.

The beta recordings were rough, lacking the polish of the final product, leaving intakes of breath in and other little imperfections editors would cut out. Morpheus could hear every huff, every chuckle when Gadling would stumble over a word and correct himself, going back to the beginning of the sentence. He could picture the smile on his lips then, the playfully apologetic look at the tech team. He had looked up pictures of him online, once. His face matched his voice: warm, inviting, with a hint of mischief. Suave, even. Morpheus had then closed the tab, embarrassed at his own thoughts.

The scene he had skipped to was professionally relevant, or, at least, he tried to convince himself it was. He had always understood sex scenes to be a tricky thing, for actors. At least, when it came to traditional acting, it was a shared awkwardness, a simulacrum of pleasure played by multiple people who could find solace in the fact that they were all on the same vulnerable boat, camera crew included. Now, voice actors... Acting choices could either make or break a sex scene. It required a subtle mix of smoothness and confidence few could manage. The last thing he wanted was for his words to sound clumsy and awkward, when the goal was quite the opposite. It was Morpheus' authorial prerogative to check every aspect of the audiobook fit his vision, after all.

As the chapter began and Robert Gadling's voice filled his ears, Morpheus imagined him in his recording booth, alone. Some audiobooks had multiple actors playing different characters, but this one only had him credited. There were slight fluctuations of tones, accents and speech patterns, as he switched characters. Morpheus listened intently.

"Gabriel gave a fleeting look downward. Nathan's shirt was soaked, revealing hints of the skin underneath. He tried not to stare, but only managed to do so through conscious and continuous effort. 'You should change your shirt before you catch something,' he told Nathan, his tone as casual as he could manage. 'You could borrow one of mine.' "

The acting was good. There was tension in the words, in the tone. The characters sounded like different people, even though they were played by the same man. Morpheus continued. In the book, things heated up quickly after a long, tentative courtship. He braced himself for the following scene, replaying the words in his head from memory.

" 'It smells like you.' Gabriel stared at him, stunned, unable to look away as Nathan stood in front of him, his own t-shirt and boxers for only garments. 'What?' he managed, his throat dry. 'It smells like you,' Nathan repeated, lifting the fabric to his nose with a smile. 'I like it.' Gabriel's gaze trailed down Nathan's body, only now noticing the growing outline of his cock aga―"

Morpheus paused. He had written those words. He knew those words, from having read and reread them a few dozen times during the writing and editing process. Yet he had never heard them. Especially not in that voice. Even the narration was sensual, almost cheeky, dripping with lust like honey. Clumsy and awkward it was not. It was.... something else entirely. Shaking off the feeling, Morpheus hit the 'play' button again.

" ―inst the taut fabric of his boxers. 'I like it,' Nathan repeated, slowly reaching for his cock through the thin fabric, his fingertips brushing the shape of it, well aware of Gabriel's undivided attention."

The rest of the scene followed, word for word Morpheus' work, yet somehow completely new to his ears. He sat there, enraptured, his eyes staring into nothingness while the rich, luscious voice surrounded him, filled him until it became his only focus.

A lewd, enthusiastic hum rose from the headphones, making Morpheus jump. Every word he had been anticipating thus far, but artistic license? It fitted with the narrative well. Too well. Not Gadling's first brush with erotica, he immediately guessed. He played it again for good measure. The sound was deeply erotic, with just enough warmth and breath. Real. It sounded real. It was followed by a breathy sigh Morpheus could almost feel at the back of his neck. God.

He played it again. He could feel the sound, the anticipation, the desire, the pleasure. Gadling conveyed it with such ease it felt genuinely intimate. Arousing, even. Morpheus ran his hand against the front of his own trousers, feeling the very real erection pushing against the hard fabric. This was ridiculous. Yet he could not stop. The scene kept playing, Robert Gadling's voice purring in his ears, words like caresses and gentle tugs, and he could not help but cup his cock through his jeans, seeking friction. He imagined him in the recording booth, leaning over the microphone, his features fitting the suggestive sounds, his lips wet from running his tongue over them. If he could just get a little further in the scene―

His Zoom alarm went off. Instantly, Morpheus removed his hand and his headphones, his back stiff as a board, a cold wave of panic rushing through him. Fuck! He gave himself a quick look through the camera of his phone. He was blushing slightly, to his utmost annoyance. Nothing he could not blame on bad webcam settings, he thought. The rest could be concealed easily enough. Especially when he was only visible from the waist up.

It was with a slight flush and a distracting, frustratingly hard erection that Morpheus answered his Zoom call, his mind scattered between book royalties, publishing dates, and Robert Gadling's voice still deeply embedded in his skull.

--

It was hours before Morpheus found a minute of free time. Night had fallen, the evening spent in front of a screen or on the phone, discussing the imminent release of his upcoming novel, one whose cover would feature his actual name, this time. Book releases were always exhausting affairs, between planning podcast appearances, book signings, press tours, and the likes. Morpheus disliked the fanfare of it all, the exposure, but could hardly complain. There were worse flip sides of the coin, out there.

At least writing under a pen name saved him the hassle, with the other half of his published work.

Lying on his bed, fresh out of the shower, Morpheus sighed, staring at the ceiling. He felt both exhausted and wide awake, his coffee-fueled brain refusing to quiet down. There were a few things the editor needed his input on in person, tomorrow, something to do with the cover art. He'd promised himself to write, too. Perhaps clean the flat a little. Too many fires at once, his sister's voice echoed in his mind.

His phone buzzed again. Incoming email from Lucienne.

Listened to it yet? Thoughts?

Plenty. Enough to know it was good. Enough to keep the reader listening. Enough for him to want to go back for more.

Going through his emails, Morpheus found the link to the beta recordings, and downloaded it onto his phone. He reached for old earbuds in his bedside table drawer. Where were we?

" 'Come here.' "

The latent desire in that voice was enough to get Morpheus right back where he had been, a few hours ago. Lying on his bed, he kept listening, swallowing hard at any well-placed sigh, any improvised grunt and whimpering sound. Was it even improvised? Did he plan on adding those? Did Gadling discuss it with the adaptation team beforehand? Marked the exact spots where he would do it in the printed script?

" 'You're so beautiful like this, love. Look at you.' "

God.

" 'I have thought about you like this. Hard under me. For me.' "

Hesitantly, Morpheus reached under the waistband of his pyjamas, finding himself hard already. He blushed at his own embarrassment, alone in his bedroom, his hand wrapped around his cock, his own words spilling in his ears. Vain, perhaps. Awfully self-absorbed. But deep down, he knew it was not that. Not really.

" 'Do you want me, Gabriel?' Can you feel I much I want you?' "

He hated himself for including so much narration in this passage, keeping him from the lascivious heat of Gadling's voice, waiting for the dialogue to return like a starving man begs for food. How could he do that? A wanton moan reverberated in his ears, quickly echoed by one of his own, harmonies of pleasure filling his head and his room.

" 'Fuck, you feel so good!' "

Why did his editor even let him publish that? Morpheus' mind was bridging the gaps between dialogue bits, ignoring the narration in favour of more pleasurable mental stimulation. He pictured Robert Gadling in his recording booth, focused over the microphone, his lips pressed into a sinful hum, his eyes closed. Gadling next to him, his mouth pressed against his ear, spewing new words, ones he did not write, ones of his own.

" 'Let me see those eyes.' "

Morpheus whined against his pillow, both from pleasure and frustration. He hated this. This was... mortifying, and yet he could not stop. He arched his back, chasing his pleasure.

" 'Fuck! I've waited for this for so long.' "

Morpheus came in his pyjamas in a muffled grunt, the release helping nothing with the shame spreading through him. It brought him some clarity, at least. Disgruntled, he yanked the earbuds out of his ears, Robert Gadling's voice reduced to a hushed whisper, the siren's song finally muffled. He looked down at himself, suddenly aware of the mess he'd made. Great. Fantastic.

His phone buzzed again. It was Lucienne.

Do you want the edited files once they are done? They would love your feedback before they start trimming it down.

Morpheus sighed, struggling against the brightness of the screen.

Yes, tell them I would like them.

[mikakuna]

the transition from being an avid manga reader where there's only one author for the entire series to becoming a comic reader where there's a billion different universes, writers, and characterizations for a single character is!!!!! not for the weak (me)