#TELLING U THIS NOVEL IS LIFE CHANGING

[crossbackpoke-check]

in love with your novels in the tags, they're so much fun to read - @softvikings

thank you!!! i have so much fun writing them and i love hearing that they bring other people joy as well, these are Our Tag Novels now 🥹💕🥰

[oikasugayama]

Okay so yeah Ranpo is probably super lazy in bed but like… imagine him just getting SO worked up that he just goes N U T S and takes total control 🥴

OKAAAAAAAAAAY 🥴

so yeah he likes to be taken care of, likes to be lazy and not do the work, but when you tease him? when you edge him? when you're just not doing the thing he really wants you to do?

he's stronger than he looks. he can also be quite the little shit. he'll grab you, flip you over, pin you down. he'll press himself to your back and rub his dick against your pussy/ass without sticking it in and grumble in your ear that you're not. being. good. his tone is only a little playful and it's sharp. it's...sadistic almost. you can tell he's about to fuck the shit out of you and he's gonna enjoy working you up, using you, and maybe even overstimulating you or making you feel so good that you cry.

for exampleeeee (gender neutral, gonna mention several potential body parts to give more ppl the chance to enjoy)

ranpo's had a hard day. h was pissed off first thing in the morning by someone underestimating and belittling him, the bakery he went to for lunch didn't have what he REALLY wanted, and when he tried to have a calm afternoon he was scolded, bothered, and Karl ate some of his emergency sweets when Poe came to drop off his latest novel (which ranpo solved far too quick. booooring.)

and of course he kept you updated throughout the day about how shitty it was. you planned a nice dinner for him, gave him lots of kisses and played with his hair when he got home. eventually he turns to you and says "I need something extra sweet to cheer me up," while gliding his hand up your thigh. there's no issue identifying what he means.

you lead him to the bedroom, you two strip while kissing and nibbling and licking each others skin. you lay in bed and he plays with your boobs/nipples for a while. you get whiny and squirmy and eventually push him over, sit on his hips, and start riding him. he usually loves cowgirl--he loves watching your tits/cock bounce while you work yourself up, and then he loves watching your face scrunch up when you start getting close to cumming.

only today, you're going too slow. you're grinding more than you're bouncing. sure it feels good, but it's not what he wants. he tries to grab your hips and help you bounce, but he's not at a good angle to use his strength to life you, and it only gets you to lift up and sink back down a few times. he could ask you to change but doesn't wanna snap at you or sound like a dick. well. guess he'll just act. he knows you'll like it, sooo....

he huffs, glides one knee up to give him leverage, then in one fell swoop he's flipped you onto your back and is kneeling between your thighs, cock still buried deep inside you. He uses his arms to brace your thighs so they're near your sides--you're not quite folded in half, but he's definitely stretching your muscles out, and you definitely can't break free because he has you in the perfect hold.

and then, once you've gasped and had a second to process what he's done, he starts fucking you. hard. the room is full of obscene slapping sounds as his balls hit your ass and his thighs slap against yours. He grunts and moans, and even though you're obviously used to having sex with him you blush because of how different he sounds. he's usually very nice in bed, praising you and saying sweet things. now he's saying shit like "gonna fuck you so hard you can't fucking walk. gonna take everything out on your pussy/ass until i feel better. gonna use you and you can't fuckin' stop me. when you cum you better scream. i want you to wake the neighbors. i want you to wake the whole fucking neighborhood screaming cause i fuck you so good."

he makes you cum hard and he does it several times. He bruises you up all over, on your neck and chest from hickeys, on your ass and thighs from his grip and the force of his body hitting yours. when you're done you're sweaty, out of breath, overstimulated, there's cum everywhere, and he's dozing beside you with a smile on his face.

(please wake him up to take a shower and change the sheets.)

[benevolentbones]

hiya loveee!!! how u doing?? i had these idea w fem!reader and spencer, where they meet cute in russian literature club somewhere in early!seasons spencer and they just lost contact or something happens and they see eachother years later! just a thought! kisses 💓💞💝💝🩷💋

lit club | spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: none really, just fluff

word count: 0.9k ish

a/n: hi!!! finally got around to your request ty for waiting<3 hope you enjoy mwah!! requests open! reblogs n comments appreciated

you first met spencer at a russian literature club during the start of his career. you bonded instantly being the youngest members of the club. you were both passionate about dostoevsky and tolstoy, and your discussions often stretched late into the evening. you bonded over your mutual love for the intricate narratives and deep psychological insights of russian literature.

one evening, as the club was wrapping up, spencer hesitated at the door. "would you like to grab a coffee sometime?" he asked, his voice slightly nervous but hopeful.

you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "i'd love that."

for a while, you and spencer met regularly, not just at the club but for coffee, walks in the park, and long conversations about books, life, and everything in between.

you felt a connection with him that was rare and precious. you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him with every passing day. and unbeknownst to you, the feeling was mutual, spencer just didn’t know how to tell you.

but then, life got in the way. spencer's job became more demanding, and you found yourself overwhelmed with your own responsibilities. slowly, the meetings became less frequent, the texts fewer, until eventually, you lost contact. he regretted it more than anything, but could never bring himself to reach out, afraid you would turn him down.

now years passed. you often thought about spencer, wondering how he was, what he was doing, and if he ever thought about you. you pushed those feelings for him deep down, but they never truly went away.

some days thoughts of him plagued your mind, about what could have been with him, you knew you would never find someone who truly understood you as much as he did.

one afternoon, you were browsing through a bookstore, lost in the pages of a new release, when a familiar voice broke through your concentration. "excuse me, do you have a recommendation for a good tolstoy romance novel?"

you looked up, your heart skipping a beat. there he was, older, a bit more tired around the eyes, but unmistakably spencer reid. your spencer reid. his eyes softened when they met yours, now filled with the same glint they held many years ago.

"it's you.” he mumbled out, a smile spreading across his face. his hair was longer, a lot messier than before.

"spencer," you breathed, unable to believe your eyes. "it's been so long...you look older.” a small chuckle escaped your lips.

he nodded, his gaze softening. "too long…you haven’t changed one bit.” he scanned your features, recalling the last day he had seen you, his eyes trailing down your form.

“still as beautiful as ever…how have you been, y/n?”

you spent the next few hours catching up, sharing stories of the years that had passed. the connection was still there, strong and undeniable. you could sense your feelings for him unearthing themselves, your heart swooning when he smiled at you- when his touch lingered slightly longer on your hand as he passed you a book. you were still as much in love with him as you had been.

as the afternoon turned into evening, spencer looked at you with a familiar warmth in his eyes. "i've missed this. i missed you."

"i've missed you too…" you admitted, feeling a rush of emotions, wondering if he felt the same way about you as you did him.

he hesitated for a moment, then asked, "how about we don't lose contact this time? i- i would hate to lose you again..”

you smiled, feeling that same warmth from years ago. "i'd love that spence..”

as the bookstore began to close, spencer glanced outside and then back at you. "can i walk you home?" he asked, his eyes hopeful.

"i'd like that," you replied softly, nodding your head.

you both stepped out into the evening, the air cool and filled with the scent of blooming flowers. the conversation flowed easily as you walked, picking up where you had left off, sharing memories and dreams for the future.

when you finally reached your door, you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. spencer looked at you with such tenderness that it made your breath catch in your throat.

"thank you for today," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i should be thanking you," he replied, taking a step closer. "it was... wonderful."

there was a moment of silence, the world around you seeming to fade away. then, spencer leaned in, his movements gentle and unsure, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. but you didn't. you met him halfway, your lips brushing softly against his.

the kiss was tender and slow, filled with years of unspoken feelings and missed opportunities. when you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your heart swelling with emotion.

"i'll see you tomorrow?" spencer asked, his voice slightly breathy.

"definitely." you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

as he walked away, you watched him go, feeling a renewed sense of love and excitement. it felt like the beginning of something beautiful, a second chance that neither of you wanted to waste.

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid @khxna @cynbx

[onlycosmere]

Brandon Sanderson on the length of Wind and Truth

PumkinFunk:  I appreciate Brandon being self-aware about the fact that he will struggle immensely to keep the word counts down for this series.

KiwiKajitsu: If only he had a better editor

PumkinFunk:  I know this has become a common criticism since Rhythm of War after Moshe Feder retired, but I don't think it's true. One of his editors for his books is Devi Pillai, the head of Tor Publishing Group. The Secret Projects were edited in-house and generally were good. He has a lot of people giving him feedback, both in-house and outside.

jmcgit:  If Brandon wanted to work on revisions for an extra 6 months to refine and streamline the book, he could do it. This is a Brandon thing, not an editor thing. What was Brandon working on up until the last minute before he had to turn the book in? He was working on making the book bigger, squeezing in more content that he wanted to add. Brandon will tell anyone who asks that he likes to write, and dislikes revising.

When an author gets big enough, the publishers and editors lose their ability to rein in the author or make certain demands. Brandon will do what he wants, and if Tor doesn't like it, they can cancel his contract and Brandon can self-publish.

Brandon Sanderson: I realize it's difficult to see behind the veil of publishing, and much is opaque, but this isn't what I was doing during the last few months--I was cutting the book significantly. However, rough draft didn't include Interludes or Epigraphs, which is why it got longer after I cut it down. This draft lost over 60k words, but then I added in the interludes and epigraphs (along with a few key scenes I decided were needed.)

So, let's be clear about a few things. No editor has ever--in my life--cut my books down. It's not what they do. They largely haven't suggested it. Every editor, Moshe included, has always suggested things to change or add--they don't do much trimming. That's all my job, and always has been. Yes, there is a line edit, which does help trim--but I haven't stopped taking those suggestions, and usually go much, much further on a page-by-page case than they suggest.

I dislike revision, which is important for me to explain because I want people to understand that even for someone who loves their job, there are parts I don't like. But I DO it. I do A LOT of it. It's the part I have to force myself to do, but I am very good at it--and if you follow my stories about learning revision, you'll find that I very clearly explain that I didn't get published until I mastered the thing that was hardest for me. I consider my it, perhaps, my greatest strength as a writer--my ability to look at feed back and apply it to improve books.

If they get long, it's not because I've lost an editor. Moshe's strong suit was always diction, not trimming--and Gillian (who does that job now) is quite accomplished at both. She's Joe Abercrombie's editor.

I realize it's odd, because "to edit" means to trim, but an editor doesn't usually trim books--they offer suggestions for changes on the larger scope, and sometimes do a line edit pass to clarify.

Stormlight books are not big because I can't stop writing. You can pick any number of my shorter novels and see I'm quite capable of doing something at a normal book length. Stormlight books are big because that's the art I want to make--and they are not, and never have been, out of control. I am perfectly willing to accept that the story I want to tell has not appealed to some in the last installments! But don't blame my editors. This is an artistic choice of mine, and their job has never been to change the art. I get the same amount of editing now as I ever have--and I take largely the same amount of their feedback.

Note: don't take this as a direct condemnation of you or some of the things /u/KiwiKajitsu said above. It's more that I want to be very clear about my goals, and the process. My stance is one of explaining, not arguing against your opinions, as those are valid and perfectly reasonable ones to hold.

I realize that a long comment reply isn't the best way to prove I can be brief, but I sincerely think the trope of "He got big so he lost the ability to be edited" is not one that I fall into--I am, if anything, the most edited person at the industry, and see more criticism and feedback of my books prepublication than any other author. Editors and beta readers collectively wrote some 800k words of feedback for me over the last two years, which I incorporate. Not just the, "Add this" but also the "this sequence feels slow or unengaging." I am extremely passionate about listening to, and incorporating, editorial feedback.

It's fine to not like what I do. But don't blindly make the argument that I write it, kick it out the door, and don't pay attention to the revision process while ignoring editors.

jmcgit: Hey Brandon, I appreciate the insight! I regret that my post may have come off as if you carelessly "write and kick it out the door", as I know how hard you and your team have been working on the book over the past months and years, and how passionate you are about getting it right.

Brandon Sanderson: No problem and no offense taken! I just see a lot of confusion about these things.

I am edited far, far more now than when I was when I started and nobody cared. Though, admittedly, I think the most editorial scrutiny I ever got was on A Memory of Light a decade ago. I probably get less now, but I also have way more extensive beta reads.

It's just a complex process. And, you also ARE right in your initial post that I could go over it again and again, and some authors do. I'm middle of the road on the number of revisions I do, by my experience. Not as many as someone like Pat R. does. More than a lot of authors. I do not subscribe to the Heinline philosophy of only editing when required by contract that is very popular these days. (This philosophy believes that your initial artistic instinct will be right, and you shouldn't undermine it later on. I am not a fan, even if some people I respect follow this philosophy.)

Anyway, your initial post wasn't far off; I just wanted to offer some more context for this thread.

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

luxiem x reader || them on your wedding day

a/n : i got rlly bored and honestly luxiem is my life support sooooo headcanons abt how luxiem would be like on yalls wedding day

anyways HAVE FUN PLS TELL ME IF I SCREW UP FORMATTING OR SMTH LOL

SHU YAMINO

would be the type to look calm before the wedding but fucking lose his shit when he sees you walking down that aisle

tears streaming down his face kind of crying, but then hides it when you get up to the front

'you may now kiss the bride' he would absolutely start tearing up again before kissing you

GIRL WHEN I TELL YOU RECEPTION WOULD BE LIT

magic tricks. thats all im gonna say. i dont know.

i feel like he'd be the type to lead ur first dance and whisper sweet shit while dancing

would be one of those people who starts crying during father-child dance

LUCA KANESHIRO

cute nervous smile when he sees you walking up that aisle

he would so be looking at you with puppy dog eyes

I JUST KNOW HE WOULD HAVE ONE OF HIS MAFIA MEN AS HIS GROOMSMEN JUST SO WHEN THE OFFICIATOR SAYS "if there are any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace", THAT ONE GUY WOULD GO UP BY THE FRONT AND FLASH A GUN AT THE AUDIENCE

YK FOR GOOD MEASURE

yall would probably laugh (except for maybe a poor soul who was going to object)

WHEN I SAY HES GOOD AT DANCING, HES ACTUALLY REALLY REALLY BAD AT IT

will accidentally trip on your foot

but will hide it ever so gracefully

mistugetsu un deux trois [help i cant spell]

IKE EVELAND

dawg he would dead ass be tearing up

hes trying his best not to cry but just ends up tearing up by the end

HE WILL PURPOSEFULLY CHANGE HIS LINES DURING YALLS MARRIAGE TO BE MORE "POETIC" [hes just a tryhard novelist]

hes actually good at dancing??? surprisingly??

hes defo living his romance novel life

WILL DO. EVERYTHING. THAT HE WRITES IN HIS FLUFFY ROMANCE NOVELS. TO YOU.

all those times he wrote dances within his novels, YEAH HE'S GONNA DO ONE WITH YOU ON YOUR WEDDING DAY [bonus points if the dance is in a book with a self insert of him and you]

MYSTA RIAS

MY MANS WOULD BE BAWLING

LIKE UR GONNA HAVE TO COMFORT HIM UP AT THE FRONT

he'd be really emotional about it, and we love that [NO HATE OK WE LOVE EMOTIONAL MEN]

he would definitely hug you when yall kiss

HE PRACTICED FOR DAYS FOR UR FIRST DANCE TOGETHER

HE DIDNT WANNA ACCIDENTALLY FUCK UP

hes defintely getting a LITTLE tipsy during reception

VOX AKUMA

SEXY MAN

the only one who wouldnt tear up honestly, like he'd just smile sweetly while u walk up the aisle

he would be SMITTEN while the officiator talks

just looking at you with the sweetest goddamn look a demon can muster

what do yall expect

he obviously knows how to dance, AND WELL AND ELEGANTLY

would be by your side THE WHOLE TIME IN RECEPTION

hand on waist, motherfucker AINT LETTING YOU GO [unless he had to, and ONLY if he had to]

------------------------

a/n: ty for reading :D THIS IS MY FIRST HEADCANON THING BUT LIKE YEAH [im biased with ike ok im sorry LMAO]

[louebel]

— [ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒. ]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 1,655 wc. mentions of the law novel and spoilers for his backstory, descriptions of his trauma, panic attacks, angst, hurt with comfort, law slowly tries to embrace his past, rushed + not proofread. divider by @ benkeibear. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: law has a nightmare. he appreciates your comfort.

“Hnn..!”

It was one of those nights again.

Sweat tumbled down his temple. No source of light. The polar tang was deep in the abyss. Your soft snores. The blanket hooding you both.

His hands were shaky. His chest was pounding. His lips agape.

“U—uh…”

Just a dream. Just a dream. No.

Not a dream. Reality. The past. Their corpses. The ruins of his city. Bestowed upon him, the laments and dirges of Flevance. They chanted and howled, damned souls who shrieked and condemned the morose government, a newborn Canto VI; Dante’s most passionate inspiration. Mystical, a fantasy, but no dream it was. No, it was not.

If only it could be.

The repugnant fetor of sulfur and acrid smog, ingrained in his nostrils, the buzzing of the flies as he walked among the stench of methane. It was a remote remembrance, clear as a fragile vase of glass, one that would shatter over and over and make his sluggish heart weep, no matter how many times he fixed and carried it. A life torn piece by piece by what was, and is, the ruthless world.

Gone were the days he could live free from his mind, the faces of those he yearned to meet once more, nothing but an ignis fatuus, one that served heartache and warmth in unison. Acerbic, pungent, more than any fruit, acidic upon his tender skin, spilled upon his skull and dissolved it without an ounce of control.

His favorite comics brought dolor. What was formerly one of his dearest pages developed into the fuel of his insecurities, thoughts.

“Look, brother! Sora didn’t die! I told you he wouldn’t!”

His sister’s giggles, nebulous; muffled, lost in time.

“Is it clear, Law? If you’re uncertain, tell me, alright? I’ll explain it to you as many times as you need.”

His father’s lessons but a distant reminiscence.

“Like this, sweetie. You’re a fast learner! Look at you, my smart baby. Mommy’s always here.”

His mother’s delicate hands guiding him, now a phantom.

His childhood companions’ cheering whenever he scored the max on a test, quieter than the gale. The nun’s concerned gaze when he carried Lami and asked to bring her home when she got wounded, forever gone. Corazon’s clumsy scenes he wanted to see again. His smile.

“I love you, Law!”

All their unconditional love.

Love. Love.

He shut his eyes.

How much he craved it. Tore apart in a single night, shredded in another after so thoroughly rebuilding it. And now here he was, trying again. But oh, was it difficult. His breathing often faltered, one false move able to destabilize him. Reconstructing it with paper was an enterprise. A fragment given by each of the people he met — little ones by the citizens in Swallow Island, bigger ones by Wolf, Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, his crew, and what survived of his fractured history was utilized as a base. Yours was almost a blanket. It was a prodigious sheet.

They all supported themselves simultaneously. But it wobbled. A lot. Often he couldn’t manage it. Terrified, alone, as he watched all his efforts about to topple. But it never did.

“… Law?”

Oh no. He woke you up.

“Go to sleep.” It came almost like a snap — to not show he was suffering.

Just go to sleep. Don’t bother with him. Don’t.

“Well… now I won’t do that.” you groggily said, his fingers clenching as you propped yourself up with an elbow. “Nightmare?”

You couldn’t see him in the darkness, but he was still an open book. He couldn’t lie to you, nor did he want to. He tried his best to change his mannerisms and patterns.

You’re his partner. Not a stranger.

“Yeah.” he exhaled tremulously, thorns in his throat.

He heard the rustles, the heat of your frame radiating against his. He couldn’t see you, but he imagined you — feeling your massages and head upon his shoulder. It tickled his neck a little.

“Mh. Baby … it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Obscurity and death clutched him with crisp, meager bones and itching shadows. However, a minor light banished them all; tender, so generous. That sound, yours… Fleeting fingers and honeyed pampering.

His droopy and heavy eyelids fluttered open, those golden eyes that carried unspoken anguish all but courageous; what was a mask he got used to wearing now sunk in the void, crystal tears brimming and gushing down his visage, scrunched up and full of lineaments. Quakes wracked his body, hisses leaving his quivering lips.

“I—I…” Nothing came out. Yet your arms remained still around him.

“Sh … Slowly honey. Take your time. I’m here.”

Here. With him.

“I… I’m so sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me. Please.”

Oh, that poor, poor man … What did he do to deserve this? To experience a catastrophe?

“M—Mom… Dad…”

“Law, hey—”

“La—Lami, Cora… Cora-san..!” He couldn't stop. As one sob wrenched from his lungs, another came, and another, and another, and another. His spine twisted, facing down; curling against you, your lips on his brow.

"Law." You called him gingerly, smoothly, hugging him close. Don't let me go, was all he thought.

"It's not your fault. Never. It's okay. Shh… Honey, hey… It's okay baby, it's okay. You're okay. Shh… Look at me."

And he did. Your palms seemed so much more real. An opportunity, some place to run. A light.

"There we go. Good job sweetie. It's okay. You're okay. It's not your fault."

"… N—not …"

"Not your fault. Never your fault, sweetheart. Everything is okay."

"… Mh. Mmhm."

He responded, unable to form coherent sentences, and cradled you close like a lifeline — the only anchor in this storm. You held him just as tightly, grazing his tense, knotted back. He was shuddering so much.

"Good job. That's my Law. Shh…"

It hurt. It truly did. To catch him like this, to see him so bare. No child, person, should ever go through such horrible things — you remembered how you both cried when he opened up. That confidence he wore for all of his crew finally crumbling at the ounce of vulnerability the universe granted him.

Shachi and Penguin never mentioned it. They divulged tales about Swallow Island — but they kept quiet about Law's other past, respecting his privacy. Bepo was a bit more clumsy with his sayings, information slipping from his fangs before he could stop it. (He'd quickly cover his mouth, a little squeak escaping it.)

When Law revealed everything, it was chaotic. You both had an argument some hours before. You were shocked he didn't crumple in your arms.

Seldom you’ve seen him cry.

"They—they would've liked you," he mumbled between hiccups, the tinge of nostalgia palpable.

"Law…"

"I wish you could've met them. I- I really wish they were here." They’d be proud, wouldn’t they? He could’ve worked with his father. His mother. Lami would’ve been a wonderful nurse or a doctor. Corazon would have joined him.

In another life, perhaps. Now the Rose held them.

"I wish I could've met them, too. I know you miss them… But they're—" his skin molded under your pointing finger as you pressed right on his sweet, scarred heart, "—right here. Forever. They're proud of you. I know they are."

"… I … hope so." he believed so, too — but saying it felt too egoistic of him. If you knew, you’d knock his head. He could tell.

"No no, baby. They are. I'm proud of you, too. So proud. Okay?"

He breathed deeply, nodding slowly.

"Okay. Okay."

“Good. You’re getting better,” you assured him, and those words never felt more gratifying. He had to be kind to himself. Gentle. The mind is fragile. He hopes — no, he knows you’d forgive him for being harsh on himself before. He knows. He knows.

“I try. I do. It's so hard, though,” he sniffed, resting his forehead on yours, to feel your warmth, your breath, your vitality, his "Beatrice", “they went too soon, sometimes I wish I could’ve followed them.” he admits, and your eyes grow more compassionate.

“But … my friends. My crew. The people I’ve met. What my family would want, Corazon’s wish. You. I’m glad to be here,” he says, taking deep breaths between. He’s safe in your arms. He can go at his own pace.

“Are you glad to be alive?” Some might see your question as idiotic, but Law knows the difference.

“That … I cannot tell. Sometimes I still feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Mh.”

It was rather quiet after that. Only your breathing and his. The stirring of your pajamas. The hushed buzzing of the submarine.

It was welcome, though.

“Change is complex,” he then spoke, looking at you with a glimpse of hope. “but … I’m willing to try. I have to. For the crew, for you, for—for me.”

Tranquility took him when you smiled, something unlocking in his spirit. It wasn’t onerous anymore.

“Good. Especially for you, honey. We appreciate you being so tough, truly, but…” you brushed your lips on his jaw and peppered soft, tiny kisses. “There's nothing wrong with being weak. We all are. If you fight it, it hurts. It’s just us. Our feeble little selves. Give yourself a break from time to time. You are doing well.”

Law deeply appreciated your snogs, his frantic heartbeat calming. You led him down onto the mattress again, covering both your forms with the blanket.

“Let go, honey. Cry. And don’t hold back. You’re safe now.”

Tender murmurs filled the night. Law's head rested in the crook of your neck. His frightened mourns eased, his restless limbs no longer a problem — caresses and soothing, calm words eased the poor child, who wanted nothing but to live in peace.

And so he reached Eden, your pious hand accompanying him to Paradiso.

[extinctspino]

Hardwood floor

Pairing: Wednesday x femreader

Wordcount: 1K

Warnings: none

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Wednesday have been together for a little while and so far so good. But you guys literally have no privacy. There's always someone out there with you or near you.

Don't get me wrong, you love hanging out with Enid and joking around with Ajax, but damn! Give a person some time alone with their lover!

When you heard that Enid was having a sleepover at Yoko's that night you stopped doing whatever you were doing.

You scanned your surroundings... not a single sign of Wednesday, good. You focussed on the palm of your hand and closed your eyes. Your hand began to shake when slowly a matt black flower emerged from under your skin.

You opened your eyes and smiled to yourself, kind of proud. You took the flower with your other hand and made sure it looked perfect.

Back in your dorm room, Bianca was startled by your behavior. You were throwing random clothes out of your closet and smelled the stuff you had on. You really wanted to impress her for some reason.

The reason is Xavier... every time you and Wednesday are with him you try to ignore his failed attempts at flirting with Wednesday.

Wednesday was as unbothered as ever but that doesn't mean you are too.

"Do I look okay? I don't smell, right? Wait, what if this isn't her favorite flower anymore?!" Poor Bianca didn't even have enough time to answer your streek of questions.

"You look fine. Stop worrying so much." She tried her best to reassure you while picking up the clothes from the floor.

"According to Thing, she's writing her novel right now." You looked at Thing who was chillin' in your room. "Now I just wait till Enid leaves and then BOOM, I'm in."

Your and Bianca's room was only a few doors away so you peaked your head out from the door, wanting to make sure Enid had already left. 

"AHHHH." When you poked your head out Enid was already staring straight into your eyes. "Y-you just gave me a heart attack." With your hand on your heart, you tried catching your breath.

"What are you doing, Y/n?" She raised one of her eyebrows, emphasizing her confusion. "Is that Wednesday's favorite flower in your hand?" She looked at it a bit longer before her eyes widened.

"OMG, ARE YOU GONN-" She struggled against you when you basically yanked her into your room while you covered her mouth. "Shhhhhh, she's gonna hear us if you yell out loud like that!"

The moment you uncovered her mouth her curiosity took over her whole body. She jumped around, talking nonstop and holding your shoulders before shaking you like her life depended on it.

"Please don't tell Yoko about this when you get there." You pushed her out of your room not answering a single question. You gave her a pleading look before quickly closing the door.

You waited 5 minutes to make sure the coast was clear and silently left the room after saying bye to Bianca.

There you were. Standing in front of Wednesday's room, a flower behind your back, about to knock with your other hand when the door opened out of nowhere.

You panicked slightly when you met Wednesday's mesmerizing eyes. "I could hear you mumbling through the door. You disrupted my daily writing time." She didn't look pleased.

"Hehe, my fault." You chuckled nervously. Wednesday stepped aside, wordlessly inviting you in. "U-uhhm," it was as if you just learned how to talk, "I-I made this for you." You sheepishly held out the flower she loves the most.

You didn't miss the way her lips turned upwards for a millisecond before changing back into her usual expression.

"Thank you." You watched as she held it with care and placed it on her desk next to her typewriter.

A few moments later she was already returning to her novel while you were laying on her bed, staring at her side profile.

Your eyes were filled with love for this cold-hearted girl. If you told your younger self that you were dating someone as beautiful and intelligent as her she'd laugh at you, appreciating the good joke you made.

Before you knew it the constant sound of ticks stopped. "Let's go to sleep." It was already late when you arrived so you were a bit tired as well.

You walked over to Enid's bed and stole her blanket and pillow before placing them both next to Wednesday's bed on the hardwood floor.

Wednesday isn't a fan of physical affection and you respected her boundaries. You didn't mind sleeping on the floor if that meant you slept in the same room as her. An improvement is still an improvement even if it's small.

"Goodnight Wednesday." You shuffled around, trying to find a comfortable position to lie in. The old floorboards were creaking thanks to you moving around so much.

"Get in."

To say you were shocked wasn't enough. "What do you mean? Did you mean get out? I'll leave if you want."

"Get in before I change my mind." You didn't waste another second and got in her bed. You were facing each other, a good arm's length apart. You couldn't hide the grin that made its way onto your lips.

"Only because the creaking kept me from imagining the worst way to die."

"Sure." You teased slightly as you turned around, your back facing her. You closed your eyes and tried to get some sleep.

Hesitantly, Wednesday loosely wrapped an arm around your waist. Your eyes sprung open at the sudden feeling. It felt as if a million Butterflies were flying around in your stomach.

Her arm felt tense against you, but it was a start. You shuffled a bit closer to her and after that, you fell asleep.

About anybody seeing you like this... Let's just say that Enid was ecstatic when she returned in the morning. She may or may not have taken a couple pictures of you curled up in Wednesday's arms...

"I will murder your entire family if you don't delete that right now."

[ddejavvu]

a major obi-wan thought on my bedtime rotation is the idea of sparring with him like that scene from miss congeniality WOAHHH another would be the interrogation with reader being a potential spy idk maybe i just find interrogations sexy.. and u cant go wrong with the classic mean obi wan taming a brat reader whose perhaps his padawan or an unruly senator under his protection ELITEEE

if you want sparring with obi-wan, you can check out my fic betrayal, that was meant to be a quick and dirty 200 words and ended up being a 17K porn novel <3 i totally agree with you on the interrogation front, i swear with the way he holds eye contact with jango in aotc i'm surprised the guy's pants didn't drop of their own accord. all that to say i've chosen the senator plotline <3

this post is 18+, minors dni.

You're not entirely sure how the Force works, but you're willing to bet that it opened its big fat mouth and told your overzealous security guard that you were trying to escape. You made sure to be deadly silent, and you'd blocked the cameras set up to monitor your bedroom, so you know he hadn't seen or heard you. Nevertheless, he stands in your bedroom doorway looking very unimpressed by the one leg you've managed to weasel through your window.

"Tell me, Senator," He calls, voice purposefully casual, like you're not bisected by a pane of glass, "Are you trying to kill yourself so that no one else gets the chance?"

"I'm not going to die." You insist, moving further still out of the window, "I'm going to take a walk."

"How many stories up are we? Two hundred?" Master Kenobi asks, this time stepping forwards into your room. He approaches your window but doesn't grab you, merely staring down at the very long distance between you and the ground.

"One-hundred-and-eight." You grunt, your strength waning the more you hang from the ledge of your window. He notices the strain in your voice, but prolongs your suffering with a thoughtful nod.

"Yes, right. I think that's a wonderful coincidence, then, seeing as how that's the number of bones you're going to break if you fall."

"I'm not going to- fall-!" You gasp at the feeling of your foot slipping against the balcony below you, but you're actually thankful for the Force now that it fuels Obi-Wan's quick reflexes. He dives to catch you, and hauls you up by only one of his hands gripping your bicep. It hurts, but you suppose he was right; it would have hurt a lot more to fall.

You're set on your feet with the expression of a tooka caught shredding its owners bedspread, but Obi-Wan meets your surly pout with an unimpressed look of his own. You're safely on the floor of your apartment, but his hand remains curled around your upper arm.

"I didn't think I needed to specify to you that staying 'out of reach' of your assassins did not mean dangling above them like a strung-up target."

"I was going to take a walk in the city," You repeat, teeth gritted, "I was going to keep my hood up, and I was going to blend in with the crowd."

"An excellent plan, truly," Obi-Wan indulges you, "I'm sure the seasoned bounty hunters that are poised to shoot you on sight would have been fooled by a cloth draped over your hair."

"I'm going crazy in here! I have to get out, I have to do something!" You gush, attempting to tear your arm out of Obi-Wan's grip. He doesn't let go, though, and he muscles it back to your side with a fleeting glint of fury in his eyes that you hadn't thought a Jedi was capable of. He walks forwards, and by extension, you walk backwards until your knees hit the frame of your bed and you're pushed down onto the mattress.

"Senator," He starts, keeping his voice tightly wound as he now looms over you, "I have a duty to protect you, but you have a duty to your own life as well. And I will not see you risk it by hanging yourself off of a skyscraper for something as menial as a stroll in the city! If you'd like to walk, you may walk into the closet and get yourself changed into your nightclothes, because the only thing you'll be doing this late at night is sleeping."

"You're not my daddy," You sneer at the man, his audacity setting something in your chest aflame, "You can't tell me what to do. I'm not going to sleep."

"I find your impression of a petulant toddler truly amusing, Senator," Obi-Wan deflects your persistent attempts at boiling him over, "But as you have a hearing to attend tomorrow, I suggest you take my advice and turn in for the night."

You bite the inside of your cheek so hard you're surprised it doesn't split beneath your teeth. He's right. You have a hearing tomorrow, and you're really only protesting sleep because he's asking you to do it. Perhaps.. perhaps that is below your station.

"Go," Obi-Wan's eyes flicker towards your dark closet, "But I would like you to leave the door open, please."

"What?" You rear your head back indignantly, any succession you'd decided on now gone as you process his request, "I'm not letting you watch me change, you freak!"

"I assure you I will not be watching," Obi-Wan lets go of your bicep, leaving a stinging ring around your skin in his wake, "But should there be any climb-able windows or secret exits in your closet that I'm not yet aware of, I don't want to be slowed down by a lock in my attempts to rescue you from your own foolishness."

"You're crazy. I'm telling the Jedi Council about this." You vow, storming off to your closet and tucking yourself into the walk-in portion so that your bodyguard can't see you as you strip down.

"You're more than welcome to, Senator. I suggest, though, that you be truthful with them about your attempts to fall from the two-hundredth-story of this building, otherwise you're going to make me look rather perverted."

"It's the 108th floor!" You snap, any patience you'd possessed throughout your encounter with Kenobi flooding out of you. It heats your skin, blazes it warm, which is perhaps why you've forgotten you're no longer clothed when you whirl around to correct the man to his face.

You're standing in the doorway of your closet now, very angry and very naked. Master Kenobi's eyes stay politely locked on your own, but one of his eyebrows raises, and a corner of his lips twitch in a barely-concealed smirk.

"Senator, if I were you," He drawls, his gaze heavy upon you despite being fixed on only your eyes, "I wouldn't tell the Council that you're giving me a strip show."

[hboww2rewatch]

Please read the movie descriptions below

Saving Private Ryan (1998) - Following the Normandy Landings, a group of U.S. soldiers go behind enemy lines to retrieve a paratrooper whose brothers have been killed in action. Dir. by Steven Spielberg

A League of Their Own (1992) - American sports comedy drama film that tells a fictionalized account of the real-life All-American Girls Professional Baseball League (AAGPBL) during WWII. Dir. by Penny Marshall

Greyhound (2020) - The film is based on the 1955 novel The Good Shepherd, and follows a US Navy commander on his first assignment commanding a multi-national escort destroyer group of four, defending an Allied convoy from U-boats during the Battle of the Atlantic. Dir. by Aaron Schneider

Mudbound (2017) - The film depicts two World War II veterans – one white, one black – who return to rural Mississippi each to address racism and PTSD in his own way. Dir. by Dee Rees

Twelve O'Clock High (1949) - A tough-as-nails general (Gregory Peck as General Savage) takes over a B-17 bomber unit suffering from low morale and whips them into fighting shape. Based on a novel by the same name. Dir. by Henry King

The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) - three United States servicemen re-adjusting to societal changes and civilian life after coming home from World War II. The three men come from different services with different ranks that do not correspond with their civilian social class backgrounds. It is one of the earliest films to address issues encountered by returning veterans in the post World War II era. Dir. by William Wyler 

The Monuments Men (2014) - An unlikely World War II platoon is tasked to rescue art masterpieces from German thieves and return them to their owners. Based on the 2007 non-fiction book The Monuments Men: Allied Heroes, Nazi Thieves and the Greatest Treasure Hunt in History. Dir. by George Clooney

Dunkirk (2017) - Allied soldiers from Belgium, the British Commonwealth and Empire, and France are surrounded by the German Army and evacuated from Dunkirk. It is shown from the perspectives of the land, sea, and air. Dir. by Christopher Nolan

Fury (2014) - A grizzled tank commander makes tough decisions as he and his crew fight their way across Germany in April, 1945. Dir. by David Ayer

Valkyrie (2008) - A dramatization of the July 20, 1944 assassination and political coup plot by desperate renegade German Army officers against Adolf Hitler during World War II. Dir. by Bryan Singer

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 9

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️

In this chapter there's a smut moment...

If you like it pls leave a like/comment/reblog it, if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful!

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

Since that afternoon, you and Joel have not seen each other again. He wrote you he had to go away for his job to renovate a building in a small town a few miles away.

You took the opportunity to clear your mind about your situation with him and Jack. You don't like being in this position, but you don't know how to get out of it.

On the one hand you wish you could live what you are experiencing with Joel in the light of day, but on the other hand you know you can never do that. You don't know if he wants to or if because of the considerable age difference he wants to show himself in public with you; then there's your mother who, since she's been hanging out with what you now call religious fanatics, has been doing nothing but telling you that you need to get pure to the altar, you need to start attending church, you should go to confession. And then on the other side is Jack. Jack is a good guy, he's polite, he's reserved, he treats you well, and he never pressures you in any way.

This is starting to become too much.

You can't take it anymore.

The easiest thing would be to stop going to Joel's house, stop talking to him, stop seeing him, and probably the constant temptation to be his would cease, but the problem is that you don't want to stop. You don't want to stop seeing him; just the idea makes you sick.

However, you are firmly convinced that you cannot go on like this. You don't want to delude anyone. It's not fair. You've always criticized those who have their foot in the door, and then you of all people find yourself doing it.

At that moment, the phone screen lights up revealing the arrival of a new message.

It's Joel.

" Just finished at the construction site. Shower, dinner and then finally bed. Old enough to work that hard anymore! "

You smile, shaking your head.

" Good evening to u! Tomorrow take a chair and rest, let others do the dirty work ;) "

Your heart is pounding even though you aren't writing anything strange to each other, but it's so good you are afraid to ruin it.

When the notification comes he's writing a new message, you stand there in eager anticipation, then the message appears.

" What have you been doin'? Studied the chords? "

You haven't actually studied anything, but you decide to tell a little lie.

" Yes, but still can't play 'em well. Beyond, I worked, I had to go to church with my mum, she wanted me to go to confession, but made up a sudden shift at work and ran away. "

You then decide to tell him about an additional decision you have been pondering for a few days.

" I read an ad in the newspaper they r looking for a librarian's aide in town. How 'bout if I show up? "

You want his advice; part of you sees this additional job opportunity as a new excuse to run away from home with the hope of putting money aside to get away someday.

His response is not long in coming.

" Can imagine the scene! Be sure to stay out of trouble in my absence. "

That message almost heartens you, gives you strength.

" For the arrangements I'll show you again, no problem. For the new job, you like i'? You'd leave the previous one or is it a second job? "

This message comes soon after.

" It's a second one. Joel the truth is I'd like to leave. Can't stand being here in this situation anymore. "

His reply is even quicker than before.

" I know, honey, I know it's very hard your life. I also know that one day, hope for ya soon, you'll fly away and that day I hope to be with you to tell you I told you you'd make it, to believe in your dreams and hug you before I see you leave. "

Those words surely meant to be an encouragement not to give up, but they hurt. Very badly.

The idea of going away and leaving Joel hurts you even more than you could have imagined.

You don't know what to say to him, you lock the phone's screen and put it on charge. You lie down and stay for a long, long time staring at the streetlight-lit ceiling in the street and think back to the man's words: you want to leave sure, but you never thought about how you would do it in the absence of your loved ones.

The next day, at 5:45 a.m., your mother wakes you to say morning prayer together and then goes to work.

You get back under the covers; your shift at the bar doesn't start until 9:00. You could still sleep, but Joel's words buzz in your head again, so you pick up your phone and find three messages from him.

" Maybe was too direct.

I know it'll happen sooner or later, just trying to get used to the idea myself first.

Didn't want to upset or hurt you. "

He wrote them to you an hour ago probably seeing no response from you.

You breathe deeply and decide to answer him.

" Hope it won't happen too soon. Not tired of everything or everyone. "

It's the truth. You are fine with him, with your three friends. It's your mother and her coven that suffocates you.

The phone vibrates again.

It's him.

" I'll be back tonight, wanna get a beer or smt else? Don't think can wait until our next official meeting. "

Your heart starts beating hard in your chest and you can't fall asleep anymore.

You're about to answer when he writes you again.

" If you can, of course, don't wanna you to fall out the window! "

You immediately reply to him.

" Funny. Tonight my mum goes to church first, then she's on duty. When r u coming? "

You'd like to dare to invite him to your place, but you'd never want your mother to catch you and him hugging or, worse, she'd lock you in a convent and throw away the key starting reciting rosaries for the salvation of your soul.

His answer comes in a few minutes.

" At 5 p.m. finish here, so I plan by 7 p.m. to be home, take a shower and then come get you. I'll take you to a very nice place, not too far from town. I won't get my little girl drunk, I promise. I've to go now or I'll end up texting like a teenager all day. See u tonight. "

You find yourself giggling all excitedly clutching your cell phone to your chest and closing your eyes.

You're looking forward to it.

Evening comes and an atomic bomb seems to have gone off in your room, you don't know what to wear. Finally, you opt for a forest green turtleneck sweater dress, underneath a pair of lined tights and a pair of leather ankle boots with a timid hint of a heel. Over a leather-colored coat to match the ankle boots.

Secretly from your mother you make all these choices and then put your room back in order.

You're exhausted because you did everything to not to be caught; as soon as she leaves, have your hair and makeup done.

In fact, you choose to style your hair with soft waves and makeup with a strand of pencil and lip gloss.

Joel asked for your home address and then texts you he'd be leaving home in no time.

You look at yourself over and over again, you also ask for advice from your friends who call you a sexpot ready to strip. In fact, you told them about what happened between you and Joel, none of them surprised to learn he was your first in the end. All three of them hugged you really hard and said Joel must be really special to have allowed him to do this. You are not frigid, but you never wanted to give yourself away like that. In fact, you always believed that there was the right guy for you somewhere and you just had to be patient and he would eventually come into your life.

Your phone vibrates; Joel is downstairs.

When you come down, you find his SUV in front of your building, but he's there outside at the door: when he sees you his tired face relaxes and then he smiles at you coming towards you. You open the door and in a burst of great enthusiasm you hug him, throwing your arms around his neck, almost running over a passerby.

You hear him chuckle as you bury your head in the crook of his neck and you enjoy his scent of bubble bath and cologne. He dips his head into your hair breathing in your floral scent staying in that position for a while.

"If this is your welcome, I'll leave often," he says in your ear.

You shake your head and then loosen the embrace "Don't even think about it!"

"Did ya miss me that much?" he asks as he looks into your eyes, taking your face in his hands.

You nod with a small smile melting into that sweet, warm hold.

"My sweet baby doll." he says giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose Then he pushes his hands away from your face making room for you to walk alongside him to the SUV.

You can't take your eyes off him, you smile as you get into the car and put on your seat belt.

He smiles at you, then starts the car and you drive away from your address. Only then you take a breath.

He notices because he looks at you and asks, "Was i' so terrible this time?"

You watch him, you like to see him driving, that focused gaze and his brown eyes focused on the road and occasionally turned toward you. You tell him the news about your mother, how dedicated she has been to prayer, you tell him about this second job, but you emphasize that it's not a way of telling him you want to get out of town right away, but you'd like to leave your mother's house as soon as possible, you tell him about your friends and the news of their lives and the advice they are giving you for your work and your life.

"And what did you do at work?" you ask him, rubbing your hands together from the cold.

He tells you about loading and unloading building materials, cutting and sawing bricks, and getting several scratches on his hands and a couple on his arms as well.

"You treated 'em, didn't you?" you ask him in a sweet and somewhat apprehensive tone.

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips in a tender kiss without taking his eyes off the road.

"'S okay. 'm fine." he smiles reassuringly at you "Rather, how much did ya miss me?" he asks you turning a fleeting glance and a small smile.

"So much." you reply, intertwining the fingers of your hand with his. The contact with his warm, thick fingers sends strange tremors throughout your body. You breathe deeply before resuming the word "And how much did you miss me?"

He doesn't answer right away, zigzags his gaze from you to the street, then replies "More than I ever thought I would." your heart skips a beat, you always thought these were corny romcom phrases, but that you'd never hear them or that anyone would ever say them to you.

He looks at you, "You're beautiful," he says, "I love your scent."

"I have it all the time," you reply in a hushed voice.

"I know," he replies, then turns his gaze to you with a smile, "I love everything 'bout ya."

You look at each other for a brief moment since he cannot look away from the road for long, but his words lead you to take his hand and shake it, he reciprocates the shake by intertwining his fingers with yours.

He takes you to a karaoke bar, not exactly the kind of club you'd frequent; however, as long as you are with him any club is fine. Fortunately for both of you, there are not many people who try their hand at singing; therefore, it is a place where you can also talk.

"'M sorry, babe, maybe it's not exactly the place you'd chose to hang out," he apologizes once you sat across from each other at the small square table looking at you with a sad, guilty look.

"It's fine, any place is fine," you reply to him, observing the place with curiosity. You look at the counter in front of the tables, at the club logo to the side, further on at the small stage with a small console and a couple of microphones in case of duets, and then back at the man in front of you.

You feel so lucky to be afforded his company, to observe his sweet deep dark eyes, to bask in his good smell, to be able to return his warm smile.

You decide not to look overly strange in just staring at him, and so you pick up the menu and look at it perplexed, constantly asking Joel for information as you have no idea what you are reading and therefore what you might be getting. Finally, you choose a simple Diet Coke, he smiles shaking his head slightly and then orders a Tequila for him.

"I'm not carrying you tonight!" he mocks your choice by taking your hand in an affectionate gesture.

You shrug your shoulders "I've never had a drink and I confess I'm a little afraid to do so. I sipped some whiskey at your house only."

"Afraid of saying or doing something too much?" he asks you, opening his jacket and revealing a brick-colored turtleneck sweater.

You smile, "Yes, maybe. Wanna play a game?" you propose.

"A game?" he repeats, smiling at you, intrigued by this singular proposal.

"It's called I never have." you raise your hands just slightly above the table "If you have done what I say, then you lower a finger of your hand. If you haven't, you do nothing. Let's play, I have never gone hunting." you begin.

He lowers a finger "I've been there several times, both as a boy and then as an adult. Even a couple of years ago with Tommy." he tells you "Now it's my turn." you see him focused on thinking about something "I've never taught anyone." he confesses.

You look at him surprised "Really?"

He nods "You are my first and only student." he confesses again looking you in the eyes a little guiltily.

You lower a finger "The only one I taught is Helen, my friend. She came to the bar after me." you tell him "At first it was just me and a guy, he was nice one, but" you leave the sentence hanging a bit, then shake your head "I wasn't his type."

He nods "I like this game. So I know you even better."

"Well, that's the goal of the game. I've never celebrated the Fourth of July." you say with a slightly sad look on your face.

"Never?!" he exclaims, lowering his finger "It's always been my favorite time of the summer. When we were kids Tommy and I would go to a pond with our parents and punctually have kayak races." he smiles "I celebrated it until..." his gaze fades and the smile disappears.

"Until when?" you gently urge him.

He sighs, "Until it's all over," he replies, looking up at you.

"Why did it end with her?" you ask him directly.

He blinks and then assumes an almost annoyed expression as if you shouldn't ask him such a question.

"Forgive me," you say as you lower your gaze, "I'd like to get to know you better, but you always seem to have a wall put up between you and others." you continue, looking at him quizzically.

"It's true, I don't like to talk about my past. It's mine alone, and most importantly it doesn't affect my relationship with you at all." he replies.

"I'm glad to know, but I don't want to know because I'm afraid it'll affect our relationship, but only because I want to know everything about you," you tell him looking at him with sad eyes.

"Honey, please- I don't want to. Don't make that request of me." he tells you, laying his hand on yours, but you don't look up at him, you look to the side "Please don't do that. Don't force things too much. They might break." he goes on, squeezing your hand just a little tighter, and you then look up.

"Okay."

You see him almost relax in his chair, then he says, "I never liked dancing or singing."

You smile, softly, but you smile.

"Me neither," you retort without lowering your finger "now, let's see...I never sang at the karaoke bar." you say smiling at him, he smiles back and you notice he doesn't lower his finger.

"Well, now you can." he replies standing up and holding out a hand to you.

"What?!" you ask worriedly.

"You've never sung karaoke." he says, taking your hand and making you stand up almost weightlessly.

"No, no, shhh, no, Joel." you try to stop him without succeeding as he draws the attention of the man there on the stage.

"There's my friend who wants to sing something," Joel says, looking first at the man and then at you.

Damn you.

Well, if you sing, he'll sing too!

The man announces to the small audience in the room of your performance, Joel himself incites the others to clap.

"Well and what are you going to sing for us, love?" the man asks.

You turn your gaze toward Joel and notice that he is glowering - to put it mildly - at the karaoke guy.

"This is a duet, so I need him," you reply, holding Joel back with all your might.

"Cool!" the man exclaims "I want to hear this applause." he incites the small audience to clap again.

"You''ll pay for this." Joel says grudgingly.

"You too." you retort "What do we want to sing?" you ask him.

Joel doesn't answer, so you choose a song from a few years ago, it's a sweet song, no rock stuff or anything like that, you don't want to put yourself or Joel in undue difficulty. You both get out of tune several times, but just look into each other's eyes to smile at each other to help you not take yourselves too seriously.

Your performance thankfully ends three minutes and forty-five seconds later with some timid clapping. You come down holding hands and returning to your seats you both lower a finger. With Joel there was another first time.

A waiter brings you shortly after your orders, which Joel pays for right away; you see Joel intent on drinking his Tequila and so gripped by curiosity you ask him if you can try it. He hesitates, but then hands it to you. You barely take a sip of his drink, but it's too alcoholic for you; you cough, returning the glass to him as he chuckles exclaiming an I told you.

"How can you drink that?" you ask him after a while.

He shrugs his shoulders with a smile, "Now, my turn." he says as he takes another sip of his drink "I've never felt the desire to kiss someone in public like I do now." he confesses as he looks you in the eye.

You support his gaze by lowering a finger "I feel the same way." you say "I just don't know what you might think about it." you add.

"Me? Well, I honestly don't give a damn shit about what they may say about me. I care about you, about what they may say if they see you kissing an old man like me." he tells you, extending a hand, which you immediately take and intertwining his fingers with yours.

"You're not that old, Joel. Stop it!" you exclaim "I told you, I'm almost 30. Can I choose who I want to date? I don't have to ask permission from the guy on stage there or my mother or her religious coven. I need to be okay, and I'm happy with you," you blurt it out.

You see him contemplative, so you try to bring back some good humor asking him if he wants to eat something and this time you'll pay for the food. He suggests you a portion of fried potatoes and onion rings and then a plate of fried rice to share, and you gladly accept.

While you wait, your game continues.

"I have never felt the desire to be younger." he says avoiding your gaze. You don't put your finger down - you don't feel the same - but you realize he's telling you something. You look him in the eye and he continues "I wish I had only been a four or five years older than you, maybe that would have been more acceptable to you." he says with a sad expression.

"Joel, Joel, Joel." you say laying your hands on the sides of his face "Please look me in the eyes." he does, his eyes are so sad "If it was a problem for me, I'd have told you right away."

"'N what would ya have told me?" he asks you.

You get up and approach him with the chair taking his hand which you squeeze between yours "I'd have told you I didn't feel comfortable, uhm maybe-- that for me these eighteen years are many, but the truth is, when I'm with you, I don't think about your or my age at all. I live you as you are. And you are a wonderful person, Joel. When I'm with you, I feel so safe, my heart always beats fast, and I think I was lucky to met you and run into you." you say, brushing your lips on his, a thought takes side in a far corner of your head, maybe you are really in love with him, it's not a crush only.

"Excuse me." a voice brings you back to reality making you jump and then pull away.

A waiter brings you what you requested and this time you pay, even though Joel tried to pay him again but you managed to put him off.

Even a simple gesture as sharing those three plates makes you feel good. You try the onion rings for the first time and you like them, Joel almost claps when you say that dish is good.

"I'm so happy to have you in my life." he tells you when you finished "You brought light into my life." he adds, wrapping your face in his hands and kissing you.

At that moment, the light goes away and you are in the dark. You pull away from his face and squeeze his hand and he returns the squeeze, then a lightning illuminates the dark room and shortly after a thunder echoes in the air.

"I never walked through the rain," Joel says trying to distract you noticing your increased squeeze.

"I've never walked in the rain either," you reply.

"Hey, it's okay." he tells you "You'd like to go to my place waiting for the storm to pass?" he proposes.

At that moment, the light returns and you take it almost as a sign of destiny, you immediately answer him yes; so, you get your stuff and go out. It's not pouring, but it's raining enough. You decide to run in the rain to the SUV and when you're inside you look at each other and notice how wet you both are. You can't help but stare in fascination at his wet face, his soaked hair with raindrops and his clothes equally soaked. It's a tender and funny image at the same time.

He thankfully turns on the warm air so at least part of your hair and clothes dry.

When you arrive in front of his house, there is a flood.

Your hair and clothes drip water profusely, you shudder from the cold once you get inside.

"If you want to take a hot shower, I'll go get you something dry. Sure, it won't be your size, but it's better than having the flu or a cold." he tells you turning on the lights in the hall and for the stairs leading upstairs.

"I don't want to bother you," you say.

"Honey, this is your home." he already told you, but hear it now is different "Feel free to use the bathroom if ya want."

"It doesn't bother you if I go into your bathroom, taking a shower?" you ask him again guardedly.

"No." he replies by taking your face in his hands and placing a kiss on the tip of your nose "Now go and take a shower, I'll have a sweater and pants for ya on my bed." he adds and then disappears.

On his bed? Oh.

When you go upstairs and close the bathroom door behind you, you look around feeling like you're violating Joel's private space, sure he told you to use his bathroom, to take a shower, but you still can't help but feel like an intruder.

You undress completely, leaving your cell phone on a cabinet and taking off all your wet clothes, and then you get into the shower. The jet of hot water hits your icy skin causing you to shake with pleasure mixed with shivers. You can't help but think how much your life has changed in a very short time, the way this man is taking care of you in so many different ways, the way he's making you feel unique and special even though you are not his first and even though you are quite naive for your age.

When you leave, you take a towel and dry yourself.

Then you take your cell phone and go to Joel's room where you find a midnight blue sweater, a pair of gray shorts, and a pair of socks. They are huge compared to your size. However, you slip them on and the result is that the sweater reaches almost mid-thigh just slightly below the shorts and the socks almost to the knee.

You look even smaller than you are.

"My turn," he says, raising his voice to be heard.

"O - okay." you say simply, then you hear the door close and the water jet open.

You bite your lower lip at the thought of Joel in the shower, who knows what he's like in the shower, if he's taking the same pleasure in warming his skin under the hot water, if…

You try to hold back your thoughts about him, and at that moment another lightning rips through the sky, which makes you remember to text your mother. You go to pick up the phone and text her you are sleeping at Gina's tonight and you dinner together. She immediately replies to be careful and lock yourself in. You roll your eyes and after answering with a simple okay, you lock the phone and return to reality.

Joel has just turned off the tap, you clasp your hands, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. Maybe you should have waited for him downstairs, maybe you shouldn't have stayed there in his private space, maybe…. Joel appears with his curly hair tousled, his expression relaxed and wearing a gray T-shirt that clings to his broad chest and wraps around his biceps and a pair of shorts. You look at each other from head to toe and see him swallow.

"Y're so sweet." he tells you after a few moments of silence from both of you.

"Thank you." you say not knowing what to do or say "D' ya feel better after a hot shower?" you add barely sustaining his gaze.

"Yeah." he answers you, but you clearly read in his eyes a desire to want more than just to look at you.

"Joel, um, you didn't have to," you tell him trying to break that moment that is shaking you to the core.

He swallows "Yes, well … don't worry." you see him waver "You'd like … a glass of water, to rest …?"

"I want to be with you," you reply, not letting him complete the possible choices he's offering you.

He looks at you questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

Your heart beats fast, then you add, "I'm not proposing anything. I guess. I mean, I just want to be there for you whether you want to talk or sleep."

He nods, "Okay. Oh, before I forget, your clothes are over there drying."

The idea of being stuck there with him in his house with his clothes on never seemed as good an idea as it does now!

You look at him, "What d' ya want to do?"

He runs a hand through his hair "I just want to sleep, I've been going to bed late for a few nights and waking up at four. Tomorrow is the first day I can get up when I want to." he replies, then looks into your eyes "D' ya wanna sleep with me?"

You already did, sleeping with him. But when it happened you were still two strangers, two people getting to know each other, now you are still getting to know each other it's true, but sleeping next to him, smelling his scent, feeling him so close to you, has a very different meaning.

"Yes," you reply in a whisper, nodding.

You look into each other's eyes for a long moment, then he says as he enters the room "Then I'll give you this T-shirt of mine, I only use it to sleep in." he opens a bedside drawer and hands you a white T-shirt "It's clean." he adds as he looks at you quizzically.

"Thank you." you say taking the T-shirt he's handing you.

"Okay." he replies simply "Um-I'll go get some water downstairs, ya change and if ya want to choose the side of the bed ya want to sleep on." he adds making to leave the room.

"Where do you usually sleep?" you ask him.

"On the left side." he replies.

"Okay, then I'll take the right side," you assert.

He nods "Hurry up, I won't be long." he says and then walks away.

In the process of hearing him get off, you slip off the sweater he lent you and slip on his T-shirt, you have no bra on and you hope he won't notice since he seems to be very tired.

You go around the bed and get under the blankets. Your heart is pounding, you've shared a bed with Joel before, but today it seems so special. He makes you feel good and unique.

You also really appreciate that although he touched you and made you come, he didn't stay while you changed, but gave you some privacy in his private space.

You hear the wood of the stairs creak slightly, then Joel appears in the doorway of the room. He looks cautiously inside, when he realizes you are already lying under the blankets, he enters and closes the door. You see him approach the bed, he gives you a long mute look, then pulls off the blankets and slips in as well.

"G' night." he says to you.

"Good night." you reply.

Outside the thunderstorm continues, you can't sleep: you toss and turn in bed, you think you should allow him to sleep because if he notices you couldn't sleep, he'd probably keep you company or go down on the couch and you don't want him to. It wouldn't be right. You turn to your right side and stare from time to time at the glow that lights up the room, wonder what happened in Joel's past, what destroyed or upset him so much, wonder if you could ever find a way to make him feel better, to help him open up to you, then decide to stop thinking and allow yourself to rest.

The next day, when you wake up, you don't have blankets on you, he surrounds your waist with a mighty arm, and then there is something else to say good morning: his erection is pressed against your buttocks and you feel uncomfortable, you try to move slightly to reduce contact, but his arm holds you even tighter to him, in fact he presses you even harder against him.

You squeeze your eyes shut, that warmth and contact making you shiver.

"Joel?" you call softly, "Joel?" you insist, shaking him gently by the arm and turning toward him so you can see his face. His lips are barely parted, his eyes closed, and a blissful expression on his face. You find yourself thinking for the second time he doesn't look a 47-years-old man at all, but at most a 39 or 40 years-old man. You sigh, sorry to disturb his sleep, but hearing him like this is making you wet in your briefs, you need to create some distance from him "Joel?" you call him again and this time, slowly, he opens his eyes and immediately his dark eyes find yours and he smiles at you "Good morning." you say returning the smile "How did you sleep?" you ask him.

"Fine, g' mornin'." he replies with his voice still half asleep.

You turn with your upper body toward him and behold that tender and tremendously sexy image he's offering you even if unbeknownst to him: his hair completely disheveled, his arm still holding you to him, the bulging veins on his forearm, the still sleepy expression painted on his face.

"How did ya sleep?" he asks, putting his arm behind your head as you turn fully toward him, holding him closer.

"Good." you answer moving a finger along his chest, he places his hand on yours. You feel his heart beating fast against your palm as he wraps his hand around yours and then entwines his fingers with yours.

"I thought I was dreaming," he tells you as he looks at your joined hands.

You smile, "What dream?"

"I thought it was a dream to have ya here with me. In my bed. Close to me." he answers you "I wish ya were always here with me." he adds in a whisper, "Sorry, maybe this is too much." he moves his hand away and gently caresses your face until he runs a hand through your hair and brings your face closer to his.

It's a gentle kiss, so sweet and tender.

You savor his scent, his warmth, his touch, his hand through your hair. Then, his hand rests on your neck without breaking the kiss and slowly goes down to your chest. He almost jumps when he notices you aren't wearing a bra, breaks your kiss and puts his head on the pillow. He looks you in the eye. It's impossible not to realize he'd like to do more, much more.

You look into each other's eyes for a long time, then you do what you already wanted to do last night: you take his hands, noticing in the weak sunlight the cuts, and kiss there where you see the little scars. You see him close his eyes and breathe deeply through his nose, "Joel," you call to him, he opens his eyes again "if I were more experienced, what would you have done?"

"Are ya really asking me 'bout that?" he asks. He's not angry nor disappointed; he seems surprised. You nod, kissing another scar you notice on his left forearm, while his eyes seem to become dark pools.

"Tell me." you invite him to answer without stopping kissing those cuts.

He opens his lips for a second, then closes his eyes and breathes deeply, saying, "I'd undress you and kiss every inch of your body. I'd caress and suck your nipples until you moan my name." hear this shakes you inside "I'd lick your intimacy and gently run two fingers inside you until I get you ready to be fucked," the obscenity of his words would made you blush, but not today; rather, you feel wet and you realize just then you are holding your breath "then I'd fuck you slowly and gently taking all the time in the world to make you come." he adds swallowing.

"Could you, um, teach me?" he moves his head slightly to the side on the pillow "Could you teach me how to make me feel good?" you ask him feeling your cheeks on fire.

"D' ya really want it?" he asks.

You simply nod, not knowing what else to add.

He pounces on your lips as he pushes your head back against the pillow. Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, when he breaks the kiss you are both breathless. He looks you in the eye, then rests his forehead against yours as you feel one of his hands caressing your bare breasts from under your T-shirt. You groan as you close your eyes, "I love caressing your breasts, they're so soft." he confesses to you, caressing that delicate portion of skin in a languid caress that makes you swallow and then moan softly. He kisses you gently again, then turns on his right side and puts an arm back under your head "I show you." he tells you taking your left hand and bringing it inside your briefs, both of you moaning at the contact with your soaked intimacy, "In time you'll figure out what you like to make you wet and make it easier." he continues in a tone of voice of one who is struggling not to give in to what would have been his true intentions.

"Getting me wet mean I'm getting aroused?" you ask him, becoming even redder in the face.

"Yes." he tells you making his hot breath break against your cheek and making you gasp.

Feel his hand on yours wet with your cum shakes you even more making you throw your head back, "Are you still with me?" he asks you.

You look at his face, see his features distorted with pleasure "Yes." you answer breathlessly.

"All you have to do is touch yourself here." he says, while in the meantime he makes you touch a specific spot of your intimacy that jolts you "Touch yourself. When you feel pressure here," he explains, pulling his hand away from yours for a moment to rest it on your belly, "tell me that I'll help you feel good, okay?"

You nod "Don't leave me." you say, he rests his forehead against your head.

"I won't leave you." he reassures you by kissing one cheek and returning to lay his hand on yours, the room fills with your moans and a few expletives, you try to contain yourself you don't want to look completely desperate, you try to stifle your moans by tightening your lips, but with little result, you involuntarily clench your legs "Honey, y'have to keep them open so you don't hurt yourself." he tells you kissing the corner of your mouth.

"Joel…" you groan "I think I'm going to…" you can't articulate any thoughts, his hand on yours, his breath on your neck, his tender kisses on your earlobe and cheek, his husky voice are enough to bring you already into a world out of the ordinary.

"Are ya already…?" he asks you, looking surprised, but adding nothing more. He makes you take your hand away and he continues, his caress is, like last time, firm and has a much faster pace. You feel yourself in that bubble again, the only thing you can do is squeeze Joel's other hand with one hand and clench the T-shirt he's wearing into a fist as you moan his name.

Shivers of pleasure run through your body. Then, your vision blurs and you close your eyes moaning his name louder and louder feeling your orgasm washes over you.

When the orgasm wanes, you hear him breathing heavily and feel his fingers touch that bundle of nerves gently until pleasure fades away. He kisses your forehead and only then you open your eyes again and find him looking at you, "There you are!" he exclaims with a small smile and making you smile too.

"Am I strange?" you ask him looking into his eye.

"What d' ya mean?"

"Earlier you seemed surprised when I was about to-- Uhm-- " you still have to get used to thinking and saying certain words out loud.

"Coming?" you nod "No, it's your first experiences. It's pretty normal. With time, things will definitely change." he replies.

"Will it be more difficult with time?" you ask him, staying with your hand clasped in his.

"Not difficult, but it'll take a little longer. Then, it also depends on your partner." he explains.

You nod.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks you.

"I'm lucky to have you in my life. You have no idea in how many ways you have saved me, the way you make me feel safe." you answer by bringing your head closer to his neck, he kisses your forehead and rests his head next to yours, he doesn't comment on your words "And what are you thinking about?" you ask him amazed he didn't reply on what you just said.

His face is serious, he remains silent, and it worries you. You squeeze his hand just a little tighter, and he looks up at you as if you want to hear him say what's bothering him.

"I don't know if I'm the right person in your life," you frown and look at him "I mean, I'm much older than you. I've lived everything I had to live, you … you maybe should have had in this bed someone like that little boy you like so much, what's his name? Johnny."

"Never mind his name." you say by sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed turning your gaze toward him "Joel, I'm in this bed with you because I chose to be in this bed with you. It's good for me to be with you. You make me feel important, you make me feel good. When I'm with you, I don't want to be with anyone else," you add.

"Honey," he tells you, stroking your forearm with his fingertips, "I'm fine with you too, but maybe it's not fair you and I went beyond guitar lessons, maybe we should have stayed in our roles, I should never have taken you there to the cabin, I should never have started digging into your life and allowed you into mine and I into yours. I feel guilty for doing that. I feel like this role doesn't belong to me." he says without looking at your face.

"Joel, we're not doing anything illegal, remember?" you tell him, reminding him of a question yourself asked him a long time before "Life is mine and I decide who to share it with." you add and then lean toward him and kiss him, it's a different kiss than before. The rhythm is faster, demanding.

"Baby girl, I'm afraid I'm doing it all wrong with you," he tells you between kisses.

"Sssh shut up." you tell him and then resume kissing him, you take his hands and squeeze them tightly between yours, fingers intertwining. Now yours is a ravenous kiss.

He takes his hands away from yours for a moment and places them on your hips, thrusting you onto him as he too sits in the middle of the bed with you on him. On contact with his arousal you both moan.

You run your hands through his mussed hair as you both find yourselves breathlessly facing each other.

"D' you still think you are making a mistake with me?" you ask him.

"Yes." he replies feebly.

You dare, you don't know if you will make a mistake, if he will like it, if it will bother him, but you dare.

You kiss him gently on his lips, then leave light kisses along his jaw line feeling the unmade beard pinch against your lips, then go down slowly along his neck and feel him hold his breath.

"Does it bother you?" you ask him inhaling his scent closing your eyes for a moment.

"No, you're a natural, little girl," he replies holding his breath.

"What can I do to change your mind, Joel?" you ask him taking the reverse route.

"You're playing with fire, baby girl." he replies without really answering you by clasping his hands on your hips just a little tighter.

Your skin is covered with shivers, you clench in your shoulders not to show him the power he has over you even though you are in charge right now and especially not to blush at this sort of threat from him. You don't know exactly what the next move is, but you don't want Joel to leave you, you don't want what has been created between you to be broken and for each of you to return to your own lives. Right now go back to that life, to that useless monotonous life, you had it hurts you.

"Since I met you" you tell him giving him a lip-smacking kiss "my life has finally made sense." you go on giving him another one "Please" you say giving him another kiss "don't leave me." you add giving him another kiss and this time he captures your lips between his. He kisses you, wrapping you completely in his arms and pressing your torso even more against his. You wish this kiss would not end or, rather, would lead to the next step, but he stops. His eyes are glazed over, his lips swollen with kisses and his breath short.

"Y're beautiful." he says, gently stroking the back of your neck and running a hand through your hair. If only you were more experienced and Joel a more selfish man, he would have released his erection, removed your briefs and fucked you properly, but Joel is not like that.

"Don't be afraid, Joel. I'm not. If I'm with you," you tell him stroking his cheeks gently.

You see him close his eyes and tighten his lips, then he sighs heavily and looks into your eyes "I wanted to show you something last night, well-- it was supposed to be a surprise, but the storm messed things up a bit." he tells you still giving your hips a gentle squeeze and then motioning for you to move "Wait here. It's a surprise. When I tell you, close your eyes, okay?" he says as he leaves the room.

You are out of breath, wishing for more, but maybe that's enough for now.

Now all you can do is wait for his surprise.

[saffricatrice]

What r ur oc stories about?

OMG HIHI I NEVER HAD SOMEONE OUTSIDE OF MY CURRENT FRIENDS ACTUALLY ASK BEFORE UMMMM OKAY SO. i have 3! main oc stories that i Really care about at the moment but im Deeply fixated on mainly 1 of them but im gonna start with the one ive been liek "promoting" the most in a sense!! under read more cuz im gonna try to exlain all three of them bless. sorry if i seem overly passionate oops i was TRYING to summarise im sorry its so long u rlly dont Have to read All of it

Forgotten Man's Symphony

his (louis manoir) character is basically a spin off from a character mentioned in the novel frankensetin exactly (1) time by name in elizabeth's letter and by far he is the most organised oc of mine cuz we do actually have a clean, understandable summary doc (thought it is a tad bit outdated but its okay). shes like the most Normal narrative-wise i suppose so i'm not exactly sure on how to explain the plot of forgotten man's symphony it's just like??? him ruining his life in front of the reader and then #Healing?? i guess?? the story is an epistolary that starts with louis' Suicide Letter. so like. yeah. BUT!! i suppose i would say his story very much concerns the concept of like identity (including gender and such she would be considred either transfemme/bigender by the modern world but also idfk cuz i made her complicated and confusing on purpose) and also the lack thereof + the negative impact that comes with trying so hard to fit into the societal norms and what people Want you to be but you just Can't be, cutting away bits of yourself to fit through some sort of hole representing the perfect version of you until theres nothing left of Who You Are expect a palatable and small version yk?? and the the endless pursuit of wanting to be loved that leads yourself to changing and changing for people who just wont care or love you for realsies + @rosaniruby 's words "making it even like that so its not YOU who is loving and being loved but the dim visage of a version of you that fits the picture of what society loves; that it's not a love between individuals, it's the love for a society that cannot ever love anything because it was made to hate. and who believes that portrayal of love will not find it and forever be stuck. smth like society loves what it deems as perfect and hates the imperfect, since perfect doesn't exist it can only do the second one. and louis wanted to love perfect victor, hated his own imperfect self. but the perfect victor doesnt exists, and neither does any version of louis."

i like her he's great. sorry if that was less telling u WHAT his story is and more like Explaining the "themes" as theyre called of the story but idrk how to describe nromal stuff so TAKE WHAT U CAN GET!!! anyways,

Domus Carnis: The Transmutation of Guinevere Manor

idk if you're aware but i have a hyperfix on architectural horror and i DON'T MEAN SCARY GHOSTS AND SERIAL ILLERS IN AN ABANDONED HOUSE I MEAN HAUNTED HOUSES THAT ARE ALIVE THAT IS A METAPHOR FOR PTSD FROM CHILDHOOD TRAUMA ETC ETC!! this story By making it started my whole obsession with the House it's crazy... scary even.. (i recommend you watch jacob geller's video essay about houses) i really do like domus carnis but it's. Messy to say the least. i do feel as if i ought to change the time period it's set in to avoid talking about the wars going on in the time period i accidentally set it in without realising but im procrastinating on that rn. it was Suppose to be late 1800s to early 1900s..

in a few simple words: flesh-and-bone made lesbian sex house. does that get your attention yet. bless

domus carnis (which literally means flesh house in latin or something) will be written in the POV of a 40ish year old widowed woman by the name of harriet wren's diary entries, occasionally switching to the POV of her 20-something year old godson percival who is like old timey jake paul and hes like either a journalistt or a radio host depending if i choose to change the time period or not. we follow them after harriet's husband dies of whatever and they find out he has a large property in a foreign country of which they had not known of prior

somewhere in germany there is a house of ex-aristocrats that no longer live there that is Alive. the House becomes alive because it is in a sense "possesed" (not haunted) the ghost of kathryna von guinevere who was the last one to die in the house, who, in life, was incredibly obsessed with The House for reasons that i fear are too long to explain without boring you and going into info pre-story?? anyways, when she "posseses" the house, the materials of the house shift to flesh, blood and bone because it Materially becomes her body. now, it would be hard to accurately label what represents what body part, because it's all strangely jumbled up and isn't like really human anatomy either cuz kathryna Can in fact see inside herself?? anyways whatever. now, the house is now both her body AND her mind. i have taken the phrase "haunted by memories/trauma" and turned it literal. the house IS haunted, but most of the ghosts aren't ghosts, theyre mostly all manifestation of Memory from her life because she actively is replaying the speech and actions of other people IN her mind to process the (typically traumatic) events of which she's seen or experienced. the ghosts CANNOT do as they please because they only exist at all Due to kathryna remembering them in these specific scenes. the hauntings include scenes of people, sounds, and shadows. unless the "scene" has a mirror, you cannot see kathy directly because you are witnessin things through HER eyes, which makes memories from wee childhood interesting because im wondering if i should make the "people" seem wayy bigger than the viewer if stuff is replayed from childhood..

i really like the fact that a lot of this is based on memory because it opens a lot of doors to me when it comes to the appearance of hauntings. my friend showed me this video depicting neurons forgetting how a face looks like, and i feel as if i could use that in the story because well, realistically kathy isnt going to have a Pristine memory cuz she Was just a human before, not to mention the fact shes already suppose to have issues on facial recognition/rememberance (my friend with these sisues suggetsed htis). the alteration of the ghosts' bodies could be fucked with even more if i try to make use and research into the way that people (mostly children) can in fact like.... change the image of something traumatic in their brain and make it less scary bc the brain is trying to protect them? yeah. AND ALSO the fact that a lot of people forgets certain aspects of their trauma due to their brain trying to protect them as well but still have this feeling of Unease when it comes o specific things that they cant explain, i could incorporate this feeling in certain areas of the House, the strange uneasiness. i experience that myself so i hope ill portray it right!!

i Think that's it?? at least that should be the bare bones of the story... i have a pin board tho if u want to check it out!!

The Epinicium

THIS is the stupid fucking thnag thats ruining my entire life rn. i love it i hate it whagever man. THIS ONE ill keep short and simple because im too fucking mentally ill about it to explain in depth without being asked questions

so basically its fantasy world but not like. Completely new high fantasy i very loosely based the countries off of like real countries and stuff bc lazy as shite so its like mid fantasy maybe HOWEVER

basically its set in this world where theres a shit ton of religions and gods and shit and theres three categories of religions (the world is veyr uhnm. Categorical idk): earth, science and the arts. basically the arts religions are the majority and the gods of those religions are called the muses so thats what i'll be calling them from now on. the basic plot of epinicium is about the muses of the music religion declaring that humanity doesnt treat music as "holy enough" anymore and taking it away as a whole (songbirds go extinct as well which is importnat) which also fucks up the other arts religionsdue to the fact that artforms are very connected but they still exist yk and centuries later our main cast attempts to bring it back!!! we have this server with a channel that has the "summary" but its not a real summary its just an already outdated infodump but we are Trying to fill this doc but we're failing really hard but friendship is magic idk.

fin.

anyways thats. pretty much it i think im sorry its too long once again 😭😭 feel free to ask question esp on the epinicium!! id love to hear abt ur ocs btw ive yapped so much oops

[propertyofkylar]

I really love what you write about Whitney 😍😍 I’m not sane about him at all, especially after everything Vrel unloaded… good dad Whitney, Whitney loft event, Whitney and his plushies. I LOVE HIM SO MYCH😞😞(sorry.) he’s so real tho. Would you write anything soft about him spending time with his family? Like him, PC, and his son in their new home after skipping town. I think he would be a boy dad tbh. Sorry for my long ask 👴🏻👴🏻

eeeee anon thank u that's so nice! and no need to apologize. this is a whitney lover safe space.

i LOVE this prompt....gonna go crazy with it.

cw: not much, just mentions of previous dol canon-compliant abuse

Whitney quietly closed the door behind him, instinct telling him that someone inside was fast asleep.

He was right. The first thing he saw walking into the tiny flat was you and your son, curled up on the couch, fast asleep. The sight brought a smile to Whitney's face.

It was still such a novel concept to him. Never in a million years did he expect to have his own small family, much less enjoy it. But here he was.

It hadn't been planned, Whitney thought as he took a spot next to you on the couch. But when you told him you were pregnant and he was the father, he knew he had to make a change.

The two of you had worked hard. You took the money you had and ran. Now, you were here. Far away from that godawful town and all the horrors that resided in it.

Whitney worked in the day and took classes in the night. His free time was spent with your child. You worked odd jobs like babysitting and cleaning homes - jobs you could do with the baby - and took online courses. Life was busy and exhausting. You didn't have much, but Whitney was working towards a better future. For his family.

You stirred next to him on the couch, letting out a yawn with your eyes closed. "Thought I heard you come home."

"Morning, slut," Whitney teased. The afternoon sun was starting to set.

You weakly smacked him on the arm. "Told you not to call me that in front of the baby."

Whitney rolled his eyes. "He's asleep. He won't know."

You opened your eyes finally, just to roll them at Whitney. You handed the slumbering child over to him. "Your son has been a needy shit all day. Just like his dad."

Whitney chose not to point out the hypocrisy of your language, opting to be nice. He wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, admiring the tiny family he had.

"Got a nice tip today," he announced. "What do you say I treat my slut to a nice dinner?"

You sat up, raising an eyebrow at him. "A nice dinner?"

"Fish and chips is nice!" Whitney protested. "Whatever. Can't you just be grateful?"

"Mm, no," you said with a smile. "But I'll take the dinner anyway."

Whitney leaned back and sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I thought after all this time, you would stop being so annoying. Guess I was wrong."

Your grin grew wider. "Yeah, but you're stuck with me now."

"Guess I am," Whitney said with a smile back. Only, he didn't feel stuck.

In fact, he felt freer than he ever had.

[momo-shut-the-fuck-up]

Long post discussing/critiquing the unicorn/nightmare hell event story. Spoilers ahead of course

I dont mean to be a hater here. I love shining nikki and the story its tryin to tell, and i dont know if this is a new development or not- i can t remember anythin about the last lore relevant event but i do remember i had a LOT of fun with desire/leonid- however.

I feel like unicorn/nightmare was poorly written. The structure for a great event story is there, there s no issues in that regard, but it s just- how can i describe it.. the writing feels amateurish? I didnt quite get the emotion in everyone's nightmares. I didnt get the feel that this nightmare was as bad as the narration tried to make it seem it is. I didnt even know the entire world was plunged in a nightmare and i feel like thats kinda critical info (and if they did tell and i forgot, disregard this whole sentence)

We kinda jumped through unconnected nightmares and thats ok, i guess, but it felt like nikki and player kinda just. Decided to fix everyone and immediately had the correct answer because of course they do, its nikki and player. I think dodora s nightmare was the best out of the bunch, but even with her, i didnt feel that emotion that i shouldve felt.

I was thinking while reading that in comarison to life makeover, sn's story isnt presented that well visually. They sure got better! Aloysius' vines, all the different lights that appear due to whatever crystal the current story is about, yknow, all those vfx they added. Thats super good and they should do more. But that s the thing, they need more. At the moment i feel like the story suffers a bit because not only is it not voiced, it feels quite static and inexpressive.

Ima use dodora s nightmare again as an example, but she was havin a whole breakdown over here, and her sprite looked just like the usual dodora... not even a pose change. And with how short it (and every other one) was, it really felt like the importance of the whole shebang was diminished.

I do appreciate that they seem to be makin an effort though. As far as i know sn makes way more money than life makeover, and their story presentation was fuckin great. I aint even askin for the same gameplay element that lm has (for context, you can investigate rooms for clues. They re 3d, linear, and can be skipped, but they re nice for immersion) or for live2d models, but i Am kinda asking for more sprites and more animations of the sprites. Make em bounce a bit! Or shake! And i wish we saw the old god.... maybe an abstract representation of them in the bg... just. Something... we were fighting a blank arena while the narration was trying to convince me some epic shit was happening.

Oh and also write the story better. I feel like i didnt explain that great but i think its the biggest downfall atm even though i didnt focus on it much on this post.... narration is very flowery and detailed, dialogue does the job, yet there s something missing from it all imo. U can have the blandest visuals ever but if ur writing is good it doesnt matter... thats why vooks exist yknow. At the same time, you re a visual novel sn, so u should be usin the visual part better... anyway this is long enough. Post

[crushedsweets]

i was listening to twin size mattress by the front bottoms and was like. hmm this is the most toby song ever

SO i was wondering do u have any songs that remind you of specific creeps? could be from lyrics or just general vibes yk yk

- 🌙 anon (im new here hi)

HII welcome. ok ok. so i listen to music in a very boring way and never analyze lyrics/artists/albums/etc. but for you i will try to change.

also these lryics with toby oh wow.. wow. ok. wowwww. wow. ok. wow. STUFF UNDER THE CUT BUT KNOW IM DEEPLY WARPING THE ACTUAL MEANING BEHIND A LOT OF THESE SONGS LOL. i religiously listen to love songs so its hard

toby and honey by coastal club. (my fave song rn..)

whether its from his perspective or not.. it doesnt even have to be romantic either. just his friendships with everyone around him, both from people like tim and brian seeing this SEVERELY TROUBLED kid. . . 'wide eyed..dying to get outside' feels very :((( yk. he was a kid trapped in a fucking horrifying situation all his life. or him looking at his friendship with nina. "youve got a way with me... alive and so full of life, i'm mesmerized by your love" etc. maybe jack or clockwork with the "i started laughing at the words you spoke, i kinda like you and your stupid jokes"... AGAIN I KNOW ITS A LOVE SONG but i see it applying in so many different forms of love. and i love love. also a ton of like, car and driving references which is um. lyra reference sorry

nina x clockwork and "a big brown dog named bagel" by nep

ok this doesnt apply so much to my au(nobody is canon in mine but yk)... buttttttt... yeah. ugh. this is so nina @ nat. sorry guys ive been changed. one ask always diverts my attention at the speed of light. "I like the way she bites, the way she talks, the way she looks when I smile" is just SO FUCKING NINA ADORING NAT. nina just wants to be in the most fairytale coming of age movie ya novel lovestory and she says that her biggest dream in life is to get married. she wants to take care of her lover and give and give and give so fucking much and "I'll buy you a big old house on a big old hill And I'll grow old with my baby, 'til she's dead" is so very her. of course i chose clockwork cuz 'she's tall in the knees' and 'some green in her eyes' plus im a lesbian and havent fawned over sapphic relationships in months since i began my creepypasta return. LOL

eyeless jack and "downhill" by lincoln

there r few words to describe the amount of guilt, horror, and devastation that jack feels after what he's done, all he's lost, and what he has to do to survive. he has a year of his life that he was literally possessed by a demon and went around fucking tearing humans apart and eating their remains. even as he's """recovering""" and settling into a cabin, his friendships with the creeps, trying to just feel okay. he's on his last leg, he can tell that people know he's a shell of what he was but they'll never know how warm, kind, inviting he used to be. "i went downhill at such a steep inline" ... yea he did his life changed immeasurably in a single night and it's never coming back. the lyrics "'Cause I was born into the world on a silken cloud / And I got bored of the world before I hit the ground" ... while he had a ton of pressure. he loved his life, loved his family, was the type to constantly express how grateful he was for everything that got him where he was. and then he hit rock fucking bottom because he wanted to chase a little excitement with the pretty girl inviting him to join a 'club.' poor guy

liu and "i'm not angry anymore" by paramore

i dont think i need to explain this because um..... lols... liu just wants to fucking move on. he just wants to escape everything. he wants his family back, including the little brother he'd play catch with in the front yard for so many years. but he has his moments where it all comes barreling back, and he makes real fucking brash decisions - he lost his marriage because he spiraled trying to find jeff and moved to fucking alabama. so you know.

jane and "everest" by beabadoobee

again, i dont think i need to explain this. maybe this could be mary(jane's wife) singing to jane, cuz she was one of janes main supports after her parents death. jane can only act strong for so long but she is so so so fucking sad and mourning and she was always so soft and gentle and sweet and she lost everything in a single night. she spent a short period of time filled with rage, as she would be, but her story eventually evolves into her just wanting to help others with their cases, be happy with her wife, take care of sally, grow old, make her parents proud. she's climbed mountains and is probably in the best place of all the creeps. holds her. i dont touch her character too often because i just want her to settle happily lolz..

ok thats all i got guys :3.. thank youuuuu thank youuu. sorry if my music taste is bad guys. LOL.

[liquidstar]

do u have any recs for folks newer to the yuri genre? I've never really read any manga other than shounen and some magical girl stuff

Omg i can totally give yuri recs. (And which ones to stay away from. Sakura Kiss has cousin shit in it, Citrus has stepsister dubcon, Dragon Maid has lolicon, Happy Sugar Life is also lolicon but it’s edgy about it and tries to act like this makes it deep, we can do better)

Anyway here’s my actual recs! I'm going to give details but if you don't wanna read them I bolded all the titles.

YuriKuma Arashi (By Ikuhara of Revolutionary Girl Utena fame), is about lesbian bears. But it’s actually a metaphor for the simultaneous objectification and demonization of lesbians, the expectation both for purity and predation. There are some nitpicks I have with it like the sexualization being a bit too much to bring the point home, but overall I do like its themes and its message. And I think the ending pulls everything together really nicely. There is both a manga and an anime, and I believe the anime came first. I’ve only seen the anime so I’m not sure if/how the manga deviates!!!! 

Bloom Into You is an absolute must. Like, for real, I think it’s one of the best romances out there, yuri or otherwise. It gets really deep into both characters' respective psyches and the ways that they’re both Very Screwed Up when it comes to love and romance, or really just life in general. Giving details would be doing them a disservice honestly. Both characters are very messy but also do try their best to genuinely communicate, and what comes of that is a lot of teenage lesbian drama, but the growth they both experience though it TOGETHER is just great, and you can tell they care about each other so much.

Okay this one I’m not really recommending for the good writing, it’s more-so just really cool. Liberta (EXPLICIT) is a series about a vampire who can turn her body into guns and a human woman who is sick of being seen as lesser in her ordinary life. And then they fall in love and are vampires together. The artstyle and character designs are awesome and it has some really cool fight scenes. However it also has full blown barely censored sex scenes. A few of them. One of the women uses her tail at some point. If that’s not what your cup of tea is, give it a pass. 

Anyway for something more wholesome you should check out The Guy She Was Interested in Wasn't a Guy at All, which I’m actually not fully caught up on bc life, but has still been a super fun read so far. It’s about a girl who works at a music store, and her classmate who gets a crush on her while she’s at work. The classmate doesn’t realize that they’re the same person, due to her looking different at work, and thinks her worksona is a guy. Hijinks ensue. 

Otherside Picnic is also highly recommended. Its manga adaptation is lagging behind the light novel, which I can’t find a translation of online (But if anyone can help me out w that 🙏). The story itself is about two college students who go on adventures to a parallel plane of reality, which contains cosmic horrors who can only communicate with humans through fear so intense it will make you go insane. They’re also looking for someone who went missing, and gain cool powers like Ghost Hand and Sans Eye. Yes this is still a yuri series and it’s also really really extremely fucking cool. 

She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat, is a slice of life story about… Well exactly what it says. A woman with a passion for cooking, making lots of food and sharing it with her neighbor, and they end up bonding through this. It’s also like, cool to see a big butch woman for a change! The story itself is very straightforward but I love watching the relationship progress as well as the mc question her sexuality. This story will absolutely make you super hungry though.

Show Me Your Bust (EXPLICIT) is also exactly what it says on the tin, though it’s technically a webtoon. Again this is a series with explicit sex scenes, but it actually does have a story and actual depth to its characters. Honestly there’s a lot to unpack with all of them and a lot of the relationships aren’t totally healthy but it’s a drama so that’s the point. 

A Monster Wants To Eat Me is actually hard to describe without spoilers. It’s about a girl who lives by the sea, meeting a mysterious girl with eyes that remind her of the ocean itself. The girl says that she’s actually been looking for the mc for a long time, and it’s revealed that….

And lastly I wanna mention Hanamonogatari, a story about an old widow who begins to regain confidence in herself as she experiments with make-up with the help of another old lady who works at a local cosmetic store. Honestly it’s very very very sweet, it’s rare to get romances like this of old women when so much of the focus of romances (yuri or otherwise) is often on the characters being attractive. I also really appreciate how the make-up is being used specifically to accentuate their wrinkles. Not hide them. Because aging is beautiful too. Sadly IVE ONLY READ TWO CHAPTERS BECAUSE I DONT THINK THE REST ARE TRANSLATED IF ANYONE OUT THERE CAN HELP ME PLEASE DO 🙏

[juni-aldaine123]

SILENCE/ mhm ; kiyomiyo

✎ i'm a manga-reader only. haven't watched the anime, won't get the chance to ig and i don't have sources to read the light novels so manga it is.

I've only finished the 1st vol and here i am already writing abt them-

this is a repost of my work from ao3 btw (i've deleted it on ao3 cus i wasn't particularly satisfied with it there)

anyways back to the topic- this is just smth random i'd written. they're already married in this. and- just this ig-?

so i hope u enjoy it!

ps: i made the ship name (lol lol) u guys like it? XD

・❥・no spoilers, nothing, just pure fluff . no plot . super short lmao . just them being a couple, doing couple things . hashtag married life

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

The silence is comforting and the peace that shrouds them envelopes them like a warm hug. Deft hands trail the needle expertly through the silky fabric; Miyo works meticulously. She is a diligent worker and Kiyoka likes that quality of hers.

Well, that is without saying, he loves every aspect of Miyo, everything she has to provide, everything she has to show to him. 

He loves Miyo.

And that is the undeniable truth.

He gives her his company in the quiet hours of night as she works through her embroidery. He pretends to read the book in his hands but his eyes and mind keep drifting to Miyo whose attention is borne by the golden threads she weaves with care.

Miyo is beautiful, even more beautiful when she does the things she truly loves.

She smiles when she does the things she loves. The smile reaches her obsidian eyes.

He tells as much to her, but she shakes her head.

"I don't believe it so, Danna-sama," she says with a lilt in her voice, as if she didn't just disagree with his views, but if he didn't know any better he would've thought that is Miyo's attempt at a jest.

Nonetheless, Kiyoka welcomes such a change in Miyo's usual timid demeanour. She has started doing this often- speaking of her opinions and Kiyoka feels relieved to discover she has begun to open up to him.

The faith she places in him, he intends to hold it forever.

"Is that so?" he returns with a smile of his own, one that widens when he sees a happy glint in Miyo's eyes.

"Yurie-san doesn't think I smile often. And whenever I do, it's not too significant," she answers slowly, as she hangs her head low to not meet his inquisitive gaze and instead goes back to her task. He thinks he would get no further explanation beyond this so he just nods, though Miyo doesn't see it, and goes back to his reading.

"If you find it so, then maybe, I only smile like this when I'm with you," was said in a low whisper and if Kiyoka didn't have heightened senses as a gifted officer he might've missed it. He looks back up but Miyo shows no sign of having said so and if he didn't catch the reddened tip of her ears he would've thought of it as his mind playing tricks on him.

"You make me happy." Her gaze is on him, like how he likes it, full of adoration. "I like how I feel with you."

"And I like when it's just us," he tells her as easily.

"As you say, Danna-sama." This time she agrees with him.

They both go back to the silence that rings around them, but it is not heavy. It may unsettle many; those not acquainted with their routine. But for Miyo and Kiyoka it was perfect. 

The silence is their safe haven. 

The silence is their happy home, when it's just them.