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melanthaeunomia · 12 hours
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Do y’all ever reread an old unpublished fanfic you wrote and then get invested on the storyline but get sad because you never wrote the next part of it, just me?
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deunmiu-dessie · 3 days
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ⅰ ▬ ⁽ 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓌𝑜𝓁𝒻 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements explicit content, teratophilia, monster/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, very obvious size difference, dacryphilia, ( slight?? ) somnophilia, cunnilingus, knotting. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you're invited to the bar by your bestfriend, barb. things go awry. ꒰m!werewolf ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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𝒜s you drift in and out of a light slumber, the sudden sound of your phone jolts you awake. The room is enveloped in darkness, and a chill lingers in the air, reminding you that you forgot to close the window. You shift in bed, directing your gaze towards the nightstand, and reach out to grab your phone, squinting against its blinding brightness. Running a hand through your tousled hair, you sit up and flick on the nearby lamp, illuminating the room.
As you settle in, your eyes slowly adapt to the light, allowing you to observe your surroundings. Glancing at your phone once more, you notice the time - it's already 9:27 PM. Your friend tried calling you five times, with the first call going unanswered for ten minutes.
As you slide out of bed, you stretch your arms and legs, grimacing at the sounds of your joints cracking. You brush your hands through your hair and make your way to the bathroom, turning on the light, and leaning against the sink, letting out a sigh at the sight of the bags under your eyes. Your lithe fingers gently pull at the skin under your eyes, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Sighing, your arms drop to your side before lifting them to twist the faucet handle.
You bend down and form a makeshift bowl with your hands, sleepily awaiting the rush of water. The liquid cascades into your palms, filling them with a refreshing embrace. With a swift motion, you splash the cold water onto your face, instantly jolting your senses awake.
Huffing out a sigh, you shut off the tap, taking a brief pause to relish in the quietness of your home, before reaching for a soft hand towel to gently pat your face dry. Tossing the damp towel into the laundry basket, you pivot on your heels and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and shutting the door behind you.
Glancing around the room, you notice the scattered clothing on the floor and your disorganized dresser, and as much as you wanted to clean it, you simply lacked the motivation. Your gaze swiftly shifts away from the mess and you clear your throat.
"Hey, Alexa, Call Barb back."
As her robotic voice obediently chimes, you collapse onto your messy bed, emitting a groan in response to the piercing sound resonating in your ears. A brief moment of silence passes before you're taken aback, startled by Barb's exuberant cheer.
" Thank god! I thought you were dead! What are you doing right now?" The ambiance of music and conversation engulfs her, prompting yet another sigh from you- the nth one since you've woken up. You're now well aware of the reason for her call, but you're not in the mood to socialize or have a drink.
After all, this was your only free weekend for the next month or so; and besides, you had already planned a date with a tub of ice cream and a marathon of horror movies.
"I just woke up from a nap, where are you? It's loud."
The woman softly utters a flustered 'stop', likely to a guy she's flirting with. Barb clears her throat to hide a giggle. "I'm at a bar with Crystal and Kevin. Please come down!" The idea of socializing at that moment sent shivers down your spine. No matter how much you adored Barb, her offer didn't tempt you in the slightest.
Actually, the idea of socializing at that moment sent mind-numbing shivers down your spine, and just as you were about to decline, her following words elicit a gentle chuckle from you.
"And! Before you say no, I promise I won't ask you to come to any events for the next three months." The anxiety in her voice is palpable, and it begins to chip away at your resolve, her small whine finally breaks you and with a sigh, you find yourself smiling at her proposal. "Fine, send me the address and I'll be there as soon as I can. "
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The place is bustling with noise and the unmistakable smell of sweat as you navigate your way to the bar. From the entrance, you catch sight of Barb's eye-catching cotton candy pink hair. She's engaged in light-hearted banter with a burly man, and although you hesitate to interrupt, you do so anyway.
Wrapping your arms around her waist, you bask in the comforting aroma that surrounds her. Barb was an absolute doll, and the instant connection you both had when introduced by a mutual friend three years ago is still strong. Barb was practically the sole reason you weren't a recluse.
A small chuckle escaped her lips as she affectionately placed her hand on your cheek. "That you babe?" She turns around as she hears your approving hum, and her gaze falls upon your attire. It wasn't flashy, considering this is just a bar. Your legs are clad in mom jeans, complemented by a band tee and a pair of chunky combat boots. In contrast to Barb's tight red dress, you may seem a bit underdressed, but your intention wasn't to find a hookup tonight; you're here to catch up with Barb.
She pressed her lips together, but eventually gave in and rolled her eyes before pulling you into a warm hug, without getting up from her seat.
" Henry, this is my best friend. " she beamed at you and playfully raised her eyebrows. "Bestie, this is Henry."
You cast your eyes towards him, uninterested."Hey, how are you?"
Without waiting for his response, you plant a kiss on Barb's forehead and gesture towards the other end of the bar. "I'll grab a drink and then search for Kevin and Crystal."
Barb's lips formed a pout as she nodded, her expression turning stern. "Don't leave without telling me okay?" You acknowledged her request with a nod, waving her off and making your way to the stool at the end of the counter, collapsing onto the chair, and releasing a weary sigh.
The bartender looked at you expectantly, prompting you to bite the inside of your cheek before simply requesting water - you had no intention of drinking tonight. Your eyes flit over the bar, taking small sips from your water bottle, looking for any eye candy. Eventually, your gaze landed on a man wearing a red, dirtied beanie, his eyes lowered. He's big and burly, with dark hair covering his forearms and a thick beard.
Your heart stutters in your chest, prompting you to clench your thighs together. His sun-kissed complexion exuded an irresistible aura of feral masculine energy, that made your nipples perk up and harden. You discreetly averted your eyes, taking a gulp of water to quell the sudden and embarrassing rush of desire.
Stealing another glance, your heart skips a beat when his hazel eyes meet yours. Flustered, you quickly look away, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks. You had just got caught ogling a sexy hunky man, and you'd probably been drooling too.
You set your water bottle on the counter and pat your cheeks with your cold hands. Gradually mustering the courage, you decide to approach the man- the intimidating but hot man who sat in a booth alone. As you prepare to stand up, you are startled to find him just a few steps away from you, gaze searing and unwavering.
Towering at 6'4, he appeared even more imposing in person, his muscles clearly defined beneath his jacket. Despite your jitters, you offer a smile and a nod in his direction. His eyes briefly leave yours, locking with the bartender's. A surge of desire courses through you, his voice is deep and velvet-smooth, and it has your stomach in knots.
"Another bourbon."
His eyes fixated on you, captivating your very being and luring you into a trance. A timid squeak escaped your lips as you retreated into your shell - he exuded an aura of sheer intimidation. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth accompanied a subtle nod, but little else. You couldn't help but feel foolish for even attempting to engage with him because even though he didn't wear an expensive suit or look well off, he was way out of your league. At least, that's how it felt.
As he grabs the glass of bourbon, he disappears into the shadows of his lonely little booth. You feel the urge to approach him but two things hold you back– one- you don't know what you would say and two– you really have to pee.
Downing the last drops of water, you bring the bottle with you to throw in the garbage can. Suddenly, you come to a halt, noticing the lengthy line forming at the restroom — that was like a thirty-minute wait, you couldn't possibly hold your pee for that long.
The longer you pondered your next move, the more your bladder seemed to betray you. Your only choice was to venture outside and take care of business in the back. You clenched your jaw, cursed under your breath, and hurried to the back door. As you made your way, you locked eyes with Barb at the bar and gestured towards your urgent need. She responded with a nod and a thumbs-up before returning to her conversation. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out into the cool night air, feeling its gentle touch on your skin.
The town may have been small, but it possessed an allure that captivated its inhabitants. It wasn't the kind of place where everyone knew each other, yet it still retained an intimate charm. Nestled at the edge of town, this bar stood amidst the endless forest that enveloped the surroundings. It was easy to get lost in there.
Into the heart of the forest, you went, careful to avoid prying eyes as you attended to your needs, wary of the consequences if caught by the property owner or law enforcement. As you made your way through the trees, the dim glow of the bar faded and you continued to walk until you had to squint to see the bar lights.
The sound of your belt coming undone echoed through the stillness of the area and you feel your skin crawl with anxiousness. You can hear the steady stream of your pee hitting the leafy-covered ground and you cringe at the loudness of the sound. After you make sure you're at least a bit dry down there, you stand and pull your pants up. As you adjust yourself, a rustle in front of you makes your heart race.
Your hands freeze at your belt buckle, a deep, low, guttural growl meets your ears and suddenly you can see golden irises looking towards you. It's a wolf. Fear grips you as you step back, trembling with terror. As your eyebrows knit together, your gaze intensifies upon the creature before you. There is no denying its identity as a wolf, yet its sheer size is awe-inspiring, towering over you. Its maw is much too big, its teeth much too large and its physique exudes strength.
What the hell were you looking at?
It takes a step forward, snarling at you. Your body quivers with nervous energy, unable to find calm, unable to focus. Without hesitation, you pivot on your foot and sprint away, your eyes scanning the surroundings with newfound intensity - every obstacle, every tree, every shadow. Uncertain if the predator is gaining on you, uncertain if more have joined in on the chase - you refuse to look back. The snarls and the sound of rapid footsteps fade momentarily. Breathing becomes difficult, and your face is flushed and covered in sweat.
Seeking refuge behind a tree, you struggle to regain composure, your heart racing wildly, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
Crack
Sprinting away, driven by an insatiable desire for safety, you disregard the possibility that it might not be the wolf. You suddenly experience an excruciating pain that travels up your ankle, causing an ear-piercing shriek to erupt from your throat and obscure your vision with tears.
Your skull collides with the rugged terrain, engulfing your vision in darkness for a fleeting moment. As your mind gradually regains clarity, you steal a glance at your ankle, recoiling at the sight of the weathered bear trap sinking its fangs into your flesh. Thankfully, the wound appears shallow, and you offer a silent gratitude to God.
Crunch
You lack the strength to budge, even though it's not causing any real harm; the agony is unbearable. The wolf draws nearer, yet its snarls transform into a plaintive whine. Your eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to open, as your body becomes paralyzed by the sensation of its scorching breath against your face.
It continues its advance, until it reaches your leg, eliciting a whimper from you as its jaws envelop it. Although no additional pain ensues, the sound of fabric rending fills your ears. With trepidation, you finally summon the courage to open your eyes, only to find half of your pant leg ripped away.
Crack, Crack
Bones are breaking, you can hear every crack and also see them breaking under the wolf's fur. As the wolf's fur ripples, you witness the gruesome spectacle of bones splintering beneath its skin. A sickening sensation rises in your throat, causing you to retch violently onto the verdant grass below. The cracking stops but you make no move to look again.
The searing agony dissipates, replaced by the faint rustling of metal being pried apart and discarded with a metallic clink. A rough, yet tender and moist touch glides over your wound, gradually erasing the numbness that enveloped you. The scorching pain that once tormented you is now but a distant memory.
Facing the creature, you realize it has grown even larger, standing at an impressive 9 feet tall. Its massive frame is covered in thick, dark fur, making it almost impossible to discern its true shape. The only colors visible are the glowing gold of its eyes and the pink knot nestled against your thigh. You swallow heavily and avert your eyes quickly, eyes flitting to the wolf's face.
Your heart races as you feel its large hand holding your leg, the gentle touch of its claws sending shivers down your spine. The sensation of its tongue brushing against your skin sends waves of pleasure through your body, despite the fear that grips you. His nose twitches, his eyes flicking towards you, the tension in his muscles palpable.
Your body quivers like a leaf, appearing fragile and small beneath the werewolf, so easily breakable. You can feel his cock stiffening even more, almost impossibly so. Reluctantly, you retract your leg from his grasp, edging back slowly. He watches you with intelligent eyes, tracking your every motion. Struggling to rise, you opt to flip onto your hands and knees, clutching a nearby tree for support— still uncertain of your 'healed' ankle.
There's a pressure on your waist, claws teasing your delicate hips, barely breaking the skin, and you cry out as your pants are torn from your legs, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He pauses for a moment, snout coming close to your sex before sniffing deeply. As tears cascade down your cheeks, you instinctively lash out, kicking your leg in a desperate attempt to distance yourself.
Your combat boot forcefully collides with its face, a feeble protest that is met with a mocking snort. With a single swipe of its claw, your delicate undergarments are effortlessly torn apart, leaving your hole quivering, and juices leaking without permission. Drawing nearer, its snout radiates warmth, causing you to recoil, your eyes squeezed shut. Yet, they swiftly snap open as its wide, elongated, and moist tongue begins to sensually lap at you, the roughness of its muscular appendage gently grazing your entrance and occasionally slipping inside.
Against your will, you're moaning loudly. Your eyes roll back and your lower lip is trapped between your teeth. The hand that was holding onto the tree is now on its snout, attempting to push it away. Your face is pressed into the ground, your back arched in a deliciously painful curve, and your ass is raised high in the air.
It laps at you eagerly like a thirsty dog, and you're lost in a sea of pleasure, moaning and pleading for more, despite yourself. You love every second of this, and it makes you feel disgusted with how enamored you are at what this monster's tongue is doing to you.
You're enveloped in a sea of pure white, as its tongue explores the depths of your being, gently caressing your sensitive spots and teasing your g-spot. It's tongue fucking you so well, like it possesses an intimate knowledge of your body. Its tail sways rhythmically as your trembling thighs embrace its snout, cum dripping onto its eager tongue. Your body spasms with pleasure, and it revels in its satisfaction.
Your pussy tightens slightly, releasing your desire onto your inner thighs, playfully winking at the creature, enticing it to take you. Its hands encircle your waist, contrasting your size against it. The tip of its red cock is lined with your entrance and it finds it a bit difficult to slip the head in at first, you're a tight squeeze.
" No. No, it won't fit!" It's thick and long, and so much bigger than a normal cock, and that thought terrifies you. You shriek as it inches into you slowly, pussy stretching to attempt to accommodate its thickness. You shake your head, crawling forward and attempting to escape the overwhelming intrusion. However, its deep snarl makes you whimper and freeze.
You weakly resist one last time, wriggling your hips to stop it from completely ruining you for any other man, but as it sinks into your quivering, messy cunt, you stop struggling.
Despite the tension in its muscles, it takes its time. The beast is exceptionally thick, so its cock is heavy inside you. The drag of its bulbous tip on your g-spot has you whimpering and drooling over yourself. Abruptly its massive frame envelops you, hands firmly gripping your hips.
How ironic, a canine-like creature ravishing you in the primal position of doggy style.
With a powerful thrust, it plunges its rigid cock deep inside you, its pelvis pressing against your supple ass. The weighty orbs of itsballs collide against your clit, brimming with cum, and despite knowing you shouldn't, you crave every drop of its hot seed.
Your sight becomes hazy, and the world around you blurs as pleasure consumes you. It's an overwhelming sensation that brings tears to your eyes. Each touch from it sends electric shocks through your body effortlessly, it's touching every nerve inside of you effortlessly. Despite feeling completely satisfied, a deep craving for more remains. The desire to feel it cum inside of you.
With each thrust, a creamy white residue encircles its cock and you're not sure how you've cum so many times in such a short period, but your eager, filthy little hole is starting to feel tender and sensitive. You're whining and whimpering, a blubbering mess below it. You need more.
It starts to speed up, hips stuttering, and a whine building in its throat. With one final forceful thrust, it buries itself deep inside you. Its primal roar echoes in your ears, yet you lack the strength to shield them.
The wet, erotic sound as it pumps you full of cum makes you orgasm once more. Your poor slutty hole clenching around it. You've lost track of time since you left the bar, and you don't know how long the two of been fucking. Exhaustion washes over you, and all you desire is to return home.
However, it appears that th beast has different intentions. Suddenly, it lifts you up, positioning itself on its hindlegs, and you find yourself sitting upright on its throbbing cock. One of its hands ventures beneath your band tee, discovering your erect nipples, while the other firmly grips your hip, effortlessly thrusting you onto its shaft as if you were its own personal fleshlight. Its muzzle nuzzles against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, even though exhaustion consumes you.
When you came to, you were relieved to find yourself at your house, believing that maybe you had dreamt it, it couldn't have been real. But the evidence of your wild night with that beast is undeniable - the sticky puddle of cum on your sheets and the missed calls and texts from Barb serve as a tantalizing reminder of the forbidden ecstasy you shared. You can't remember how long he used your body for his pleasure but you remember leaving a pool of cum where the two stayed that night. Though, one text stands out to you.
"Babe, a man came up to me earlier and said that he enjoyed you last night. WTF?! Bitch, spill."
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byoldervine · 2 days
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How To (Realistically) Make A Habit Of Writing
To clarify: Works with my autism. WORKS WITH MY AUTISM!!! I’ve been meeting my goals since I made them my New Year’s resolution! Anyway I’m so sick of all those ‘how to’ guides that don’t actually tell you what the process is they’re just like ‘just do it, but don’t burn yourself out, do what’s best for you!’ because you’re not telling me what I’m not supposed to be burning myself out over but okay, so I made my own. Hope this helps
1. Choose your fighter metric. What works better for you as a measurement of your progress; time spent writing or your word count? Personally I get very motivated and encouraged by seeing my word count go up and making a note of where it should be when I’m done, so I measure by that. At the same time, a lot of people are also very discouraged by their word count and it can negatively impact their motivation to write, and in that case you may be better off working from how much time you spend writing rather than where the word count is
2. Choose your starter Pokémon time frame. How often can you write before it starts to feel like a chore or a burden rather than something fun you look forward to? Many people believe that they have to write daily, but for some people this can do more harm than good. Maybe every two or three days? Weekly? Figure out what fits your schedule and go with it
3. Choose your funny third joke goal. Now that you’ve got your chosen time frame to complete your goal in, what’s a reasonable goal to aim to complete within that time frame based on the metric you chose? If your metric is your word count, how much can you reasonably and consistently write within your chosen time frame? If your metric is time spent writing, how much time can you reasonably and consistently spend writing within that time? Maybe 1000 words per week works, or maybe 10 minutes per day? The goal here is to find something that works for you and your own schedule without burning you out
4. Trial and error. Experiment with your new target and adapt it accordingly. Most people can’t consistently write 1667 words per day like you do in NaNoWriMo, so we want to avoid that and aim somewhere more reasonable. If you feel like it’s too much to do in such a short time frame, either give yourself less to do or more time to do it in. If you find yourself begrudgingly writing so often that it constantly feels more like a chore than something fun, maybe consider adapting things. And if you think that you gave yourself too much wiggle room and you could do more than this consistently, give yourself more of a challenge. Everything needs to suit you and your pace and needs
5. Run your own race. Don’t feel like you’re not accomplishing enough in comparison to others or not working fast enough to satisfy some arbitrary feeling of doubt. Everybody works at their own pace and slower work doesn’t mean worse work. You could be on one word per day and you’ll still see consistent results, which is still one word per day more than you could originally count on. All progress is progress, regardless of its speed
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writers-potion · 2 hours
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Words to Use Instead Of...
Beautiful
stunning
gorgeous
breath-taking
lovely
jaw-dropping
pretty
glowing
dazzling
exquisite
angelic
radiant
ravishing
excellent
ideal
slightly
wonderful
elegant
bewitching
captivating
mesmerizing
enthralling
magnetic
impressive
tasteful
charming
desirable
enchanting
Interesting
stricking
unusual
appealing
absorbing
srresting
gripping
riveting
alluring
amusing
exceptional
fascinating
impressive
provocative
prepossessing
exotic
readable
refreshing
entrancing
exceptional
Good
honest
upright
dutiful
enthical
pure
guiltless
lily-white
reputable
righteous
tractable
obedient
incorrupt
respectable
honorable
inculpable
irreprehensible
praiseworthy
well-behaved
uncorrupted
irreproachable
Awesome
wondrous
amazing
out-of-this-world
phenomenal
remarkable
stunning
fascinating
astounding
awe-inspiring
extraordinary
impressive
incredible
mind-blowing
mind-boggling
miraculous
stupendous
Cute
endeaing
adorable
lovable
sweet
lovely
appealing
engaging
delightful
darling charming
enchanting
attractive
bonny
cutesy
adorbs
dear
twee
Shy
modest
sel-effacing
sheepish
timid
way
reserved
unassured
skittish
chary
coy
hesitant
humble
introverted
unsocial
bashful
awkward
apprehensive
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
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beabidobi · 2 days
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I saw you needed ideas/requests, so I got u 👏
How would you imagine miguel to be when their partner gets their period? To me, he would be 100% mother goose 🪿 just full on overdrive. Getting everything they need - pads, tampons, weird food cravings, the whole shebang. And i totally envision him just peppering kisses all over them, cus he loves them so much and wants them to be comfy.
Yeah, at this point I'm venting cus I just got my period... Sorry for over-explaining 😅
★ Miguel O’Hara during your period headcanons
thank you for the request😩. hope you’re feeling okay!!
fem!reader x miguel o’hara
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• Would literally react like you’re dying every time. Treats you like a porcelain doll by keeping you on strict bed rest if you’re not feeling well and making sure to get everything you need
• Stocks up on pads and tampons a week prior as he knows your cycle
• If you have cramps he’ll buy you dark chocolate and heat up a hot water bottle for you
• He will try to do anything to make you feel better wether it’s running you a hot bath, buying you an entire store or just cuddling you in bed
• If you’re a spider person, he’ll sign you out for the week and take days off himself if it’s bad
• Your food cravings seemed a bit weird to him at first, but eventually he made sure to have all the food you might want in the house
• Cooks all your meals and makes you chamomile tea to help with cramps
• This man does not care about the blood. You leaked on the sheets? He’ll set up a bath for you while he washes them and puts on new ones. Same with if you got it in your clothes. He’d wash them and help you change into new ones
“I promise, it’s fine mi vida.” He’ll say when you keep apologising for getting blood on the sheets. “It’s normal, and I’ll get it out. Go get in the bath, I’ll get you some fresh clothes out.” When you’re still not very reassured once you’ve finished in the bath he helps you into the new sheets, cuddling you and tells you over and over he doesn’t mind whatsoever. [my life]
• He’s learnt how to handle your mood swings, when you’re angry he knows you might want some space. If you’re feeling down, he’d be all over you, telling you how beautiful you are and peppering kiss all around your face
“Mi hermosa niña.” He mumbles, fingers tracing circles on your hips while he runs his other hand through your hair, pressing kisses to your cheek. “So perfect.” [my beautiful girl]
• He’s freakishly warm almost like a human heater so when you sleep, he’ll keep his warm hands on your lower abdomen to soothe the cramps
• He’ll watch all your favourite movies with you, with ice cream and chocolate of course
• Gets Lyla to check your vitals every few hours even though you’re absolutely fine
• Expect massages. He’ll massage your stomach and back when you’re cramping, even uses some essential oils sometimes to help calm you
“Just relax, ángel.” He’d say while gently starting to knead your stomach, the smell of lavender oil eventually lulling you to sleep.
• Again, he’s memorised your cycle so he’s always extra careful with you the week before because he knows your a little delicate
• He’s not a big singer, but he’ll hum you to sleep, most likely some Spanish lullaby
• Will urge you to join him for a walk if you’re feeling up to it since exercise can also help cramps
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thank you for the suggestions so far, keep them coming :))
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un-fazable · 2 days
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ALWAYS.
May you find a love who heals you,
Not hurts you.
May you find a love you cherishes you,
Not uses you.
May you find a love that unlocks all the beautiful moments and memories.
Because you deseve it,
Even when you might not think you do.
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novlr · 2 days
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Hi, can you write a paragraph about rain? Can you also give tips on describing nature? Thank you.
Rain can evoke a range of emotions and associations, from the childlike joy of splashing in puddles to the melancholy of grey skies mirroring a character’s mood. But while we’ve all experienced stormy weather, capturing its essence on the page can be surprisingly tricky. Here are some tips to help you write about rain in a way that will make a splash with your readers. (You can also adapt this advice to almost any nature description, but we will try to put out a separate post on more general nature advice at a later date.)
How does it look?
Use vivid adjectives to describe how the rain looks at different times of day and in different conditions.
Mention the angle the rain is falling at. Is it falling straight down? Angled? or even sideways?
Describe the size and shape of the raindrops – are they small and needle-like or large and heavy?
Note if the rain is clear or if it’s tinged grey or yellow from pollution.
Does the rain form puddles, streams, or mini-rivers as it flows?
Describe any ripples, splashes, or concentric circles the rain makes when hitting surfaces.
How does it sound?
Use onomatopoeia like “pitter-patter,” “tapping,” “drumming,” “plinking,” or “hissing” to mimic the sound.
Show the surfaces the rain hits and how that changes the noise — a “clattering” on windows, a “thumping” on the roof, a “plopping” in puddles
Describe the overall volume, from a soft “murmuring” or “whispering” to a loud “pounding” or “roaring”.
Note any variations or patterns in the sound, like a steady drone vs. syncopated rhythms.
How does the sound fill a space? Does it echo? Reverberate? Or is it dampened and muffled?
Describe how the noise of the rain interacts with other ambient sounds in the scene.
How does it feel and smell?
Describe the temperature of the rain and how it feels on the skin. Is it cool and refreshing or shockingly cold?
Describe the tactile sensations, like wetness, dripping, soaking, or chilly dampness.
Note how the rain changes the air, making it humid, misty, or heavy and saturated.
Describe the smell of the rain, which can be clean and fresh, dusty, earthy, or laden with ozone.
Describe how it feels to be out in the rain — are characters getting drenched to the bone or finding shelter?
Use metaphors to compare the feeling to other sensations, like tears on the face or a massage.
What mood and atmosphere does it evoke?
Use the rain to set the overall tone and mood you want to evoke, from gloomy and sad to peaceful and cleansing.
Show how the rain affects the setting, like making colours more vivid or obscuring things with mist.
Describe how the lighting changes, with skies darkening or a glistening sheen over everything.
Describe how the rain makes characters feel emotionally as well as physically.
Use the rain as a symbol or metaphor to mirror the characters’ mental states or the themes of the story.
Show how the rain transforms the world, slowing things down or washing things away, and how characters react to that.
Positive story descriptions
Rain can bring a sense of renewal, growth, and life to the world.
There is a cosy feeling of being inside looking out at the rain, safe and warm.
Rain can make everything glisten and gleam in the light, looking fresh and new.
Show the soothing, hypnotic quality of the rhythmic patter of raindrops.
Rain can be invigorating, energising, and joyful.
Rain can symbolise a fresh start, washing away the old to begin a new chapter.
Negative story descriptions
Rain can create a sense of melancholy, isolation, or loneliness
Rain can be an obstacle or hindrance, slowing characters down or forcing them to change plans.
There is a chilling, bone-deep cold that comes from being soaked in the rain.
Describe the bleak, colourless world that seems to exist when the sky is endlessly grey and stormy.
Show how the rain can feel oppressive, like a heavy weight pushing down on everything.
Describe how the rain can make the world feel dreary, soggy, and depressing, sapping energy and vitality.
Helpful vocabulary
Use words like deluge, downpour, torrent, cloudburst, hammering, lashing, pelting, battering, or thrumming to describe heavy, intense rain.
Try terms like drizzle, mist, sprinkle, shower for lighter rain.
Describe rain-soaked things as drenched, saturated, sodden, waterlogged.
Describe how rain dimples or stipples surfaces.
Gutters may babble, gush, trickle or overflow with rain.
Puddles can slosh, ripple, or reflect like mirrors.
Raindrops may bead up, roll, or slide down windows, leaves and other surfaces.
Adjectives like windswept, blustery, driving, relentless, or unceasing can evoke a storm.
The air may feel close, clammy, sticky, or muggy from humidity.
Petrichor is the earthy scent released when rain falls on dry soil.
Slickers, macs, wellies, brollies, and goloshes are rain gear that can add character details.
After a storm, the world may seem scoured, quenched, drenched, or newly baptised.
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risafeywritesdrarry · 6 hours
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I finished the first draft of my novella last night and I couldn’t be prouder of myself 🥹
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akwardsilince · 2 days
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Person A: "Do I talk too much?"
Person B: "My guy, I think this is the first conversation you've held with a person all day. It's the evening."
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deunmiu-dessie · 2 days
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ⅱ ▬ ⁽ 𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements, explicit content, spectrophilia, ghost/human, rough sex, "unprotected" sex, creampie, somnophilia, cunnilingus. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: after coming home from a grueling day of work, instead of being able to relax, the feeling of someone watching you has you scared. ꒰m!ghost ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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CLICK
𝒯 he soft glow of your lamp casts a warm yellow light throughout the desolate home, but it fails to dispel the darkness that lingers. You make a mental note, weariness seeping into your thoughts, to buy a new lightbulb from the mart later in the week. The dimness of the room matches the heaviness in your heart, as you feel the weight of loneliness settle upon your shoulders, part of you knows you should be used to coming home with no one to greet you, but it still stings nonetheless.
Struggling to remove your gym shoes, you let out an annoyed groan, exhaustion causing you to stumble and collide into the wall with a thump. Finally freeing your feet, you stretch your arms above your head and let out a tired sigh. Your muscles ache from the long day at work, and the fatigue seems to seep into your bones. Your eyes flutter closed from the effects of sleep deprivation but your stomach grumbles with a ravenous craving for a thick pastrami sandwich. The thought of sinking your teeth into the juicy meat and tangy mustard momentarily distracts you from the weariness that engulfs you.
Discarding your wool coat onto the carpeted floor, you shuffle yourself wearily down the hallway towards the kitchen, fully expecting it to still be a mess from three days ago. The cluttered countertops and unwashed dishes serve as a constant reminder of your chaotic schedule and the lack of time you have for yourself. It’s as if the mess mirrors the disarray in your own life, and you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. At times you missed living with your parents and not having any responsibilities. Being an adult was so stress-inducing you just wanted to lay in bed and cry sometimes.
Leaning against the hallway wall, you find solace in pressing your forehead against the cool, flowered wallpaper. Sleep weighs heavily on your eyelids, momentarily clouding your vision and tempting you to succumb to its embrace. And just as your legs threaten to give way, a gentle chill dances down your spine, jolting you awake with a surge of electricity. A tired sigh escapes your lips as you run your palm down your face, mustering the strength to continue towards the kitchen. The chaotic mess that greets you almost makes you cry.
Resting against the entryway to the kitchen, a pang of regret washes over you. Deep down, and not even buried that far truly, you wish you hadn’t taken your coworker’s shift. Despite your fondness for the woman, working two consecutive twelve-hour shifts was more than you could handle. And as the new nurse in the hospital, you were an easy target for those who wanted to shirk their responsibilities, they left you to run around like a headlesss chicken.
You finally gather the energy to carry yourself into the kitchen, reaching for a cup from the cupboard and turning on the sink faucet, allowing lukewarm water to fill it. Impatiently you can’t wait for the tap to run cold and quickly knock back the glass, the satisfaction of quenching your thirst outweighs the temperature. Slouching against the sink, you take a moment to stretch, feeling your joints crack and your muscles slacken. You flutter your eyes shut to stop yourself from gazing at the mess that’s your kitchen.
Placing the glass on the worn countertop, you set your medical bag on the kitchen island and head towards the staircase, overwhelmed by the longing for a shower and some rest. However, as you approach the hallway, a sudden shiver runs down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. Your legs momentarily go numb, and you manage to grab hold of the stair railing, preventing yourself from stumbling. After being on your feet for a whole day, you were shocked you had not immediately collapsed when you walked in the door.
A sudden sense of unease washes over you when you survey your modest home, the horrid sensation of being observed seeping into your skin and festering in your mind. It’s as if the feeling surrounds you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Your eyes dart between the dimly lit kitchen and the shadowy staircase, it’s as if the shadows themselves are in motion. Objects seem out of place, and didn’t you leave your bag on the island?
Confusion creases your brow as you search for your bag, it takes a while but you discover it leaning against the couch’s armrest in the living room. Your unease deepens, causing a slight twitch in your eye. The entire situation leaves you unsettled. Anxiously, you bite down on your lower lip, feeling the sting as your teeth sink into the flesh. Once more, the sensation of being watched intensifies, as though someone is observing your every move, listening to your every thought, and knowing your every action. Goosebumps raise on your skin, skittering down your back.
You shake your head in disbelief and pinch the bridge of your nose, the weight of exhaustion and hunger bearing down on you. ( the latter was something you would fix in the morning, as you did not have the energy to cook anything.) The darkness of the hallway only adds to your supposed delusion. With a heavy sigh, you push yourself away from the railing and begin the arduous climb up the stairs.
Stopping just shy of the top of the stairs, you reach your hand out and glide it along the cool walls beside you, feeling for the light switch— one may think that you would know where the light was in a house that you’ve lived in for two years, but you seemed to fail to find it every time. Your palm glides along the walls, desperately searching for the elusive light switch. It’s a futile attempt, as if the house itself is playing tricks on you. The anticipation builds as you inch closer to the top, your body tensing with each step.
Finally, the click of the switch echoes through the silence. But it’s not your doing. Panic sets in as you realize someone else must be in the house, but soon the hallway is bathed in harsh light, exposing every shadow and corner. Yet no one is there. You stare at your hand, questioning whether you had unknowingly flipped the switch.
Ignoring the fear that threatens to consume you, you force yourself to continue. Quickly, you make your way to your room, seeking solace behind the closed door. But even within the confines of your sanctuary, the feeling of being watched persists. It’s as if an unseen presence lingers, peering into the depths of your soul.
Your skin tingles in question as the ethereal sensation of fingers delicately cupping your cheek sends shivers down your spine (truly almost nonexistent). A surge of unease washes over you, even though you can’t see anything, you can sense an intense, ravenous gaze fixated on you. Shaking off the remnants of your episode, you take a hesitant step forward, determined to overcome any lingering apprehension. With a burst of courage, you scurry to your dresser and retrieve an oversized T-shirt, a memento stolen from your older brother years ago, along with a pair of plain black cotton panties.
No matter what strange occurrences were unfolding, you refuse to let them hinder your plans for a hot shower. The past twenty-four hours have left you covered in sweat and grime, and you are determined to cleanse yourself of it all.
With eager anticipation, you make your way to the bathroom, barely bothering to close the door behind you. Placing your clothes in the sink, you turn towards the shower, pushing the curtain aside to adjust the knobs and pull up the shower valve, spurring on the hot water. As the bathroom fills with steam, your breathing becomes slightly shallow, the heat causing your cheeks to flush.
Stepping back towards the sink, you gaze at the fogged-up mirror, your reflection blurred and distorted. Like a scene from a horror movie, you raise your hand and press it against the glass, wiping downwards and watching as the water droplets cascade lower, dripping on your discarded clothing below.
As your eyes meet your reflection once more, they immediately lose focus and fixate on the imposing figure standing just a few meters behind you. Towering over six feet tall, his muscular frame exudes a suffocating amount of dominance and power. A scream of terror and disbelief escapes your lips, and in a panic, you grab the hand soap from the sink and swiftly turn around, hurling it towards the intruder. The bottle soars through the air, crashing into the wall before landing on the tiled floor.
There was no one there; you were going crazy.
“Calm down. You need to sleep. It’s been a long day; your mind is playing tricks on you.”
You were just full of excuses, desperately trying to maintain your sanity. But surprisingly, those excuses provided a strange comfort, no matter how unbelievable they were. So, you decided to settle yourself down, shedding your work pants and kicking them aside. Your shirt and undergarments followed suit, as you let go of all inhibitions. In that moment, the fear that had consumed you was momentarily forgotten.
You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to wipe away any imperfections. Your eyes wandered down to your body, taking in the soft ridges of faint stretch marks on your breasts with your fingertips. As your palms venture lower, they lovingly caress your thighs, reveling in the velvety softness of your skin and the warmth that radiates from them.
With a shake of your head, you release a sigh of surrender, allowing your hands to fall gracelessly to your sides. You take a step closer to the inviting tub, parting the shower curtain to reveal the steamy water within. As you enter the embrace of the hot water, a soft moan of pleasure escapes your lips, the heat enveloping your entire being and melting away the tension in your muscles. This shower was exactly what you craved.
After diligently scrubbing your skin until it’s both raw (and irresistibly smooth), you find yourself sitting on the floor of the tub, relishing in the sensation of the water cascading over your hair and body. However, as much as you yearn to stay in the blissful sanctuary that is your tub until the water turns cold, you reluctantly acknowledge the losing battle against sleep that you’re already engaged in.
Carefully rising from the bathtub, you extend your hand under the cooling sprays of the water to twist the knobs and halt the shower, pushing the valve down afterward. Exiting the tub, you forgo the use of a towel and opt to let the air dry you while reaching for your toothpaste and toothbrush from their respective places. Relocating your clothes from the sink to the nearby shelf, you proceed to brush your teeth swiftly, counting to fifty before spitting and returning everything to its original position.
You grab your face wash and dispense a small amount onto your palm, with gentle strokes, you massage the cleanser into your skin, creating a lather that removes the remnants of yesterday morning’s messy makeup. Switching on the tap, you lean over the sink, allowing the warm water to flow into your hands, smoothly gliding it across your face and rinsing away the soap.
Your back divots suddenly with a delicate grace as an ethereal caress firmly grasps your sensetive hips, eliciting a startled gasp of surprise from your parted lips. Your eyes pop open, darting around in a hasty manner, well, stupidly, seeing as you hadn’t quite finished washing your face--- the remnants of soap trickling into your eyes. A sharp hiss escapes your mouth as you instinctively lower yourself to rinse away the discomfort.
Once more the tantalizing trail of fingers tracing along your spine is undeniably present. You remain still, your muscles tensing in anticipation, trembling as the touch ascends higher, encircling your neck. With trembling hands, you turn off the faucet and inhale deeply, attempting to steady your racing heart. The deep, seductive timbre of your name being whispered intimately close to your ear fills you with a bone-chilling terror. Quickly, you snatch your garments from the nearby shelf and flee into the sanctuary of your bedroom, momentarily struggling with the bathroom door.
“Calm down, calm down; this is not happening. You’re hallucinating.”
You erratically throw on your shirt, using it to also dry your face, and shimmy your panties up your legs, the soft cotton resting comfortably on your hips. You quickly crawl into bed and pull the comforter up to your chin, shutting your eyes and tucking your bottom lip into your mouth. (Your hair could wait, you were not getting out of bed.)
“Hey, Alexa, turn off: Bedroom Lights. ”
You can’t even recall switching on the overhead light, but honestly, you’re past the point of caring. The mechanical response plunges the room into darkness, and the moment your head hits the pillow (as comfortable as it can be when cold and damp), you’re fast asleep.
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You’re unsure how long it’s been, but your eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep when you feel the sensation of large, calloused hands gliding up your stomach softly. The touch is unfamiliar, but it doesn’t necessarily frighten you as it should, instead, you can feel yourself throbbing in your panties, gentle and shy. You blame your sleep deprivation on the lack of fear.
The hands approach your bare breasts, a thumb rubbing over the taught peaks of your pebbled nipples causing a soft gasp to escape your luscious lips, your cheeks burning with fiery heat, and your body arching ever so slightly from the bed, offering your breasts to the awaiting, eager palms.
Your pussy, warm and slick, constricts and drools with your arousal. Maybe it’s the thrill of imagining a supernatural encounter, but you’ve never felt as aroused and eager as you do at this moment; dripping and throbbing.
You feel a surge of anticipation as your panties are gently shifted aside, a trail of your desire following suit. Ghostly fingers swiftly trail up your inner thigh, getting closer to your sopping pussy, and despite the uncertainty of the situation, the mysterious touch ignites a fire within you. The paranormality behind the sensation makes your heart pound and your pussy salivate with need. Lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, a soft caress on your clit causes your hips to involuntarily buck, your lip bruised from the force of your bite. “Ah~”
Your voice comes out as a breathy, needy whine. The suspense of where and when the next touch will land sends shivers of excitement down your spine. And as soon as you're almost on the verge of begging, a rush of hot air sweeps over your dripping core, causing your pussy to clench instinctively. Your throbbing clit pulsates with an insatiable ache, lost in a haze of pleasure, and your eyes roll back, unable to fully grasp the intensity of the experience.
As the sensation engulfs you, your throbbing bud is devoured by their hungry mouth. The combination of their saliva and your own intoxicating arousal trickles down, moistening your tight, quivering entrance. The sensation is nothing short of divine, as if their touch is delicately fondling and slurping at every nerve within your shuddering body.
Your hips, moving with a will of their own, rise from the bed and writhe. You can’t help but squeal softly as firm, powerful, and large hands encircle your hips, forcefully pressing you down onto the mattress, indulging in your warm, sticky juices; skillfully teasing your clit with its tongue. Your cries and pleas echo loudly, a stark contrast to your usual quiet demeanor when having sex with men.
Oh, but you felt like a bitch in heat, like your entire being was engulfed in flames and burning you from the inside out— it made you want to scream and cry.
Your body trembles uncontrollably as the knot tightens, gripping your stomach, thighs, and lower abdomen. In a desperate bid for relief from the agonizing pleasure, you instinctively gyrate your hips. Your vision blurs and fades into a blinding white haze, signaling your impending climax. But just as you teeter on the edge of release, the touches abruptly cease, leaving you yearning for more.
You whimper and attempt to reach down to your soaking pussy to pat and rub at your engorged clit, but you unintentionally freeze in place; a small knot of fear causes your eyes to well up, yet it only intensifies your craving for its caress. When nothing further occurs, you start to plead, like a desperate whore— as if you hadn’t been touched in years.
And as if pleased, the ghostly caresses return to your sensitive clit, moving with a deliberate slowness that sends shivers down your spine. You can’t help but let out a series of soft moans, as you offer up sweet words of gratitude to the mysterious entity pleasuring you.
“Ah, yes, yes, please!”
Your body tenses as the knot tightens, aching with a mix of pain and pleasure. Your hips move uncontrollably, seeking more of that sweet torment. Yet, it stops once more, leaving you to come down from your ruined high. You’re a sobbing mess now, grinding against the air, waiting for something, anything.
Your throat constricts suddenly, leaving you breathless as fingers delve into your tight, dripping pussy, curling and prodding your spongey g-spot. The digits seem to know your pussy like the back of their hand, stroking every nerve inside of you. The squelching sound of your arousal drowns out your heavy breathing and mewling moans. The entity suddenly adds its thumb to the mix, circling your clit quickly. The pleasure escalates swiftly, and your eyes squeeze shut as a rush of pure ecstasy overwhelms you, leaving your thighs quivering and twitching from the deep, blissful climax.
After the high subsides, you pant for air, the tension easing from your throat. You sprawl sensually on your bed, clit throbbing and arousal coating your sheets. A tepid, exhausted breath escapes your lips as a thickness delicately nudges apart the folds of your pulsating entrance, prompting an instinctual urge to flee. However, unyielding hands firmly pull you closer, and your legs reluctantly surrender to their command.
You can feel a bulbous, mushroom-shaped tip forcefully penetrating your quivering, weeping pussy eliciting a mixture of pleasure and pain at the invasion. Your pretty eyes roll quickly to the back of your head as the unknown entity plunges its heavy, thick cock into your tight entrance, your thighs pressed to your chest and legs draped over broad shoulders.
You keen softly, as your pliable walls ensnare his cock in a vice-like, velvety embrace. “More, I need more; please fuck me, please.” Your plea is abruptly silenced as its thick length withdraws from within you, only to resume with an intense, unconventional rhythm—leaving you no opportunity to adjust to its entire length.
The unyielding grip on your waist marks you in the most delicious way, leaving behind a trail of bruises that only heighten the pleasure coursing through you. Your pussy feels so full and sated, despite nothing physically filling you, you throb with satisfaction.
Lost in the depths of your pleasure, the reasons behind your desperate pleas elude you, but you continue to spill them forth without hesitation, unable to think. Once again, your breath is stolen away, your throat constricts, and an intense orgasm surges through you like a forceful tidal wave. A delicious warmth then radiates from your core, spreading through your tummy.
The most painful and pleasurable feeling of being filled with cum has you aching for a taste of it. Your body goes limp, but whatever is fucking you doesn’t stop; their cock pistols into you despite you slowly losing consciousness.
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As your eyes flutter open, you gradually rise from the bed. The room is shrouded in darkness, leaving you disoriented about the time you’ve spent asleep. Urgently, you rush to the bathroom due to your full bladder. Stepping out of bed, a gasp escapes your lips as your foot lands on a cold, damp object. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s your panties. Blushing, you drop them and shake your head, with your hair still slightly wet from the previous night’s shower.
As you enter the bathroom, you opt for the wall light switch instead of the one on the ceiling, casting a gentle, warm radiance throughout the room. Oblivious to your reflection, you casually stroll past the mirror, too exhausted to spare a second glance.
As you ease yourself onto the toilet seat, your tired eyes gently close, and the tinkling sound of you using the bathroom lulls you into a state of sleep for a brief moment. A few moments pass, and you linger a bit longer before reaching for a flushable wet wipe, dutifully cleansing yourself before discarding it into the swirling abyss of the toilet bowl.
With a swift flush, you rise to your feet and shuffle to the sink to cleanse your hands. However, as you slowly open your drowsy eyes and catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, a sudden chill runs down your spine.
As you gingerly raise your shirt, a gasp escapes your lips. The sight before you is both shocking and unsettling. Crimson and violet bruises, resembling the imprint of a colossal hand, encircle your throat, cascading down to conceal your collarbone and shoulders. As your eyes wander further, a gasp escapes your lips. Vivid handprints, a testament to an intimate encounter, mark your hips in crimson and violet, while a constellation of hickies adorns your tummy.
As you gaze into the mirror, you suddenly catch sight of a man standing behind you, from earlier. Surprisingly, he seems closer than the last time you saw him, and you can feel the warmth of his body through your shirt. He stands tall, with bulging muscles and an overwhelming presence that leaves you breathless. However, his appearance remains a mystery, as you struggle to make out his features. Just then, the bathroom door slams shut, plunging the room into darkness as the lights flicker off. Your heart skips a beat as you feel hands slowly trail up your shirt, eventually cupping your pussy.
His voice is like a warm embrace, wrapping around you with its deep, sensual, sinful, and amused tones.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
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k-n0-x · 2 days
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༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid-Chapter 4·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻
A/N: Hey guys! I managed to get this chapter out early coz I am so hot and amazing at everything my social life is at an all time low and we have Easter break. Some foreshadowing if you guys can guess, but keep it to yourselves for now. Mommy issues y/n? That’s a first 😨😨😨😨. This chapter is also Lucifer basically being: “No, you’re so sexy haha don’t cry”
Also, the slow burn is burning now! YAYYA 🎉
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Enjoy! <3
꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🦢♕✶💫☾🥀꧂
You sit on the patio of your home, feeling as though you’re rotting away. 
It’s been 5 days since Adam’s full blown out tantrum, but it feels like it’s been 5 lifetimes. 
A cockatiel lands on your table, its bulging inky eyes staring at you, vying for your attention. 
You laugh, and give it some crumbs of your leftover toast from breakfast that you couldn’t bear to finish.
The bird eats them graciously, and flies away, you watching enviously. 
Oh, how you wished you were that bird. Carefree, and not trapped in the gilded cage that you are in. 
If only… 
Bzz bzz
Your phone rings. The contact Mom glows on your screen. 
Unwillingly, you swipe right. 
“Hey mom, what's up?” This woman never calls you, unless there are three instances; she needs you to get her something of monetary worth, wishing you a happy birthday/any other significant holiday, or-
“Darling, there's something I need to talk to you about. A little birdie told me that you've been stepping out of line recently~” 
Ah yes. The third instance. The times when your actual fucking personality shows, even for a sliver of a moment, and how it  could potentially hurt your ‘relationship’ with Adam. 
“Mom, it's not that big of a deal. I just was feeling rough recently, and-”
“Well it doesn't matter what you feel does it? What matters is that you honour our family. Being married to Adam is what's best for you. You acting outwardly is seriously jeaprodising your relationship, and I am just trying to help you stop before it's too late,” Your maternal figure’s sing-song-like voice turns sharp in an instant, like it could cut through butter. 
“You were always a wild child, a disappointment, I am trying to help you-”
You interrupt. 
“How are you helping?! Belittling me, treating me as some sort of– some do Ill?! I have tried, given my whole entire fucking life, trying to please you in every way, but somehow, it's never enough! And when I do fuck up, suddenly I'm a failure in your eyes?!” 
Silence.
“You better mind your language young lady,”
“NO! I will NOT mind my FUCKING LANGUAGE. I will  swear when I want to, and I will do whatever I FUCKING WANT! I AM DONE WITH YOU AND YOU- YOUR WAY OF THINGS!” 
You press the end button, calmly. 
You storm up to your bedroom and closed the door. Calmly.
You look at the bookshelf, always so perfectly clean, scarce of dust. 
Perfectly clean, no imperfections. 
You let out a cry of irritation and just start throwing out books, ripping the pages of each, crumpling sheets of paper, sobbing hot angry tears while doing so. 
When that was done, you just bring the entire bookshelf down with a bang, and you stomp on it until you feel a sharp pain in your foot, surely that's a splinter right there. 
You stumble over into your bed and scream and cry in your pillow, amongst the mess.
You submerge yourself in your pillow even more, until your anger numbs away, leaving you with a throbbing pain in your head. 
Absolutely drained from your outburst, you drift off. 
꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂
Everywhere is foggy. 
You look around, looking for anything of use, when your attention is turned to a glowing light, placed on a rusted pedestal. 
Since it's the only thing that piques interest, you touch the fluorescent ball and yelp when it scorches your hand.
“Ow,” you pull your hand away and decide to look for anything else. 
As you trek through the nothingness, you  feel like you're being tugged down by an anchor, or treading through quicksand. 
Suddenly, the ground gives way under your feet. 
You’re falling. 
The cold air whistles through your ears. 
You try to fly with your wings, but nothing; it feels like they have been ruthlessly ripped from your body.
You feel as though you're being stretched, squished and deformed like play dough, until you hear and feel something cracking. As you fall, you look towards the light. 
At the entrance of the hole, there are many, unidentifiable figures, just, staring at your downfall. 
You want to scream and cry for help, but it feels like your mouth has been cemented shut. 
A faint noise calls your name, which sounds closer and closer each time as you fall helplessly. 
You make a successful-ish attempt to turn on your stomach. 
In your horror, you see a halo, cracked and muted of its previous glow. Your halo.
Not that far below you, there are hot red coals. 
Oh God. 
The voice becomes louder and closer and you hit the ground with a scream. 
You jump up, to find yourself back in the dump that is your bedroom, slicked with sweat. 
“Oh my God, Y/N! Are you alright?” Emily, who was tentatively paving the way to get to your pathetic self. 
“Emi, hi… Yeah, just eh, rough day,” you smile weakly at the Seraphim, who’s concerned expression shows that she doesn't believe you, but she doesn’t want to put you under pressure.
“What’s all of this?” Emily motions to the wrecked room.  
“Adam pulled a tantrum again?” 
“Huh? Oh that, nono, sorry uhm,” you pause to clean the room as it was with the snap of your fingers.
“Why are you here Emi? Do you need something?” You wipe your eyes, but your bloodshot eyes are still apparent. 
“No, I just wanted to hang out with you, but I can come back if it's a bad time,” The Seraphim stumbles over her words as she looks up at you, slightly flushing.
“No, no you can stay. I’m just a little bit shaken up, but yep you can stay. Uhm….” you trail off. 
This place is feels really constraining
You need an escape. 
“Hey Emily, wanna go on an adventure?” You put on a face of newfound enthusiasm. The Seraphim just had that effect on people.
“Of course! But er, where?” 
“Shh, it's a surprise, now let's go!” You push Emily into the portal you made and go in yourself. 
꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂
“Woah, this is what it's like?” Emily says as she looks around the hellish landscape like a lost puppy.
She snaps out of it when you drag her out of the way of a thrown carcass headed towards the both of you. 
“Yeah, let's head inside,” You manoeuvre her into the hotel. 
The lobby is more populated than your last visits to the establishment, though all faces are familiar. 
“Emily, meet Angel, Husk Alastor, Charlie, who you know already, and-” Your voice dies down in your throat at the sight of the Demon King, with his strapping jacket and top hat. 
What is going on with you today? 
“And Lucifer,” You motion to the King, who gives you both an acknowledging nod. 
Your heart misses a beat. 
“Well uh, there's one more but I don't know where she is… WOAH NIFFTY!”
The little scamp runs towards the Seraphim with a knife about to stab her with malicious intent. 
“Niffty, no. No stabbing any more angels we talked about this,” Angel grabs the knife from the housemaid and throws it in the trash can. 
“Ugh, not a bad boy,” Nifty grumbles and begrudgingly rushes off to god knows where. 
“Well everyone, this is Emily, not sure if Charlie has told you about her but-”
“Is she your kid?” Angel asks. 
“I’m sorry, what? Oh no, no she is not my kid pff,” you say. 
“Huh,”
“Well as I was trying to say, Emily here is another person on our side,” You give Emi an encouraging squeeze of the shoulders. 
“Well this is quite the improvement. Salutations! Pleasure to meet you,” The radio demon greets himself, extending his hand to shake Emily's. 
She takes it, though cautious. 
She turns to Charlie and warms up to the amicable face. 
“Hi, Emily, er obviously you know who I am,” The princess of Hell welcomes her, as some of the other Hotel residents go off doing their own thing. 
“Oh yes. Y/N told me about you, obviously we've met before, but under less casual circumstances,” Emily scrambles for conversation. 
Obviously, they need a little push to loosen up with each other. 
“Charlie, maybe show Emily the garden? Or maybe the entire hotel for that matter. Emi here has been dying to have a look around,” 
“Oh yes! Let me show you some of the suites, I decorated them myself,” Filled with giddiness, Charlie beckons the Seraphim upstairs.  
Emily turns to you, unsure. 
“Go on, don't worry, I'll be waiting here!” You give her a persuasive smile and shoo the pair upstairs. 
Now you had some time to kill…
“Hey!” 
“Agh!” You jump at the voice of Lucifer. 
“Geez, am I that scary?” He laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder. 
“Pff as if-” You snicker and give him a playful shove back.
“Anyway, how've you been? How's the old rusted machine been?”
“Are you always going to make digs and remarks at my husband in an attempt to get all three of his wives in your pants?” You raise an eyebrow sarcastically.
He sighs, feigning sorrow. “You know me too well. I thought it was the perfect plan, but clearly I'll have to tune it a bit,” The demon rattles on, but your brain fixates on the one word he said. 
Perfect. 
Something you try so, so hard to be, but apparently isn't enough for your mom. 
If your mom doesn't love you as you are. 
Well, what's to say anyone can? 
“Well, what do you say, Butter-Duck? You have to find a nickname for me, but I'll call you that regardless, hmm?”
His question brings you back to the conversation. 
Which, leads you to ugly, fat tears. 
Lucifer’s face contorts into panic. 
“Wait, I'm sorry, it's was a rubbish nickname, sorry I thought it was funny-” He puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. 
“No, no it's not that,” You rub your eyes, your voice croaky. 
“The reason is quite silly, really, it's fine, I'm just being stupid hahha,”
Lucifer is not convinced. 
“Listen, you helped me out the other day, and even though I'm not good at this comforting stuff, please, at least let me listen,” He gives you a weak, gorgeous smile, one that is enough to make you stop crying about. 
Okay, it's really becoming an issue of you being distracted by…
Him.
“Well, just an argument with my mom; basically just her saying how much of a disappointment I am and-” your voice creaks.
“And?”
“And I suddenly just don’t feel like her daughter,just a burden she has to put up with, and then what’s the point of all of this if you're not perfect,” 
And breathe. 
You put your face in your hands. 
“I’ll never find love,” 
“Hang on, but isn't Adam your husband? Don't you love him?” 
“No, I don't. It was a marriage purely organised by my parents. Completely transactional,” you mutter dejectedly. 
“Shit, that really sucks. Listen, I know it's hard to hear, but you need to hear it. Nobody is perfect. No one. That's what makes people interesting. And your mom wanting you to be that is far from perfect of her. Not sure if you're aware, but we're in Hell, right now, amongst many people who are basically morality rejects. But you, you're a Winner. Not in the physical sense, but also metaphorically. And for what it's worth…” Lucifer takes a moment to mull over his next words. 
“Many people love you, like Charlie and, that Seraphim, Emilia?”
“Emily” You amend. 
“Anyway, that's besides the point. The point is that you have many people that adore you, and that's what matters most,” Lucifer comes closer and stiffly puts his arms around you, which you return. 
“Thank you, Lucifer,” You sniffle into his shoulder. 
“No problem, anytime. You are my friend after all,” He gently smiles.
Your heart flutters. Friend? As in, person he considers more than an acquaintance? 
“So, what's this about a Butter-Duck?” You tease. 
“What? I thought it'd be a cool nickname for you,” He huffs. 
“Alright, alright… Let me think of a nickname for you then… Lulu!” 
He grimaces. “Ugh, that sounds like a name for a baby products brand!”
“Oddly specific, but if it annoys you more, all the better!” 
“Ugh, you're like worst than some sinners here I swear,” 
“Who said Angel’s can't be jokesters too?” You give him a wink. 
He coughs, a rosy red complexion appearing on his face.
꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂
Emily and Charlie come back into the lobby, to you and Lucifer making small talk on the couch. 
“Ready to go?”
 Emily nods. She goes to hugs Charlie, which is reciprocated. 
“Well, I’ll see you around?” You squeeze the demon’s king hand. 
He looks at you, and nods, hesitant to return the gesture, as if you were glass. 
“Yes, I will,” 
As you and Emily leave to make your way back to Heaven, you could've sworn you heard Lucifer whisper three words. 
“I love you,” 
You turn back with a questioning expression, but all that was on his face was nonchalance.
꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂
Word count- 2,194~
Taglist:
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@glowymxxn
@froggybich
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threewordusername · 2 days
Text
there lies a strange wonder
in the space between being friends and lovers.
no labels, titles, or expectations, only pure affection.
tell me, then.
why is it that true friends last,
but lovers end up strangers in the end?
"the dichotomy of relationships."
d.b.a
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imastoryteller · 2 days
Text
Creating a likeable main character is crucial for a novel's success
Readers need to connect with the protagonist, empathize with their struggles, and root for their success. To achieve this, give your character relatable qualities, flaws that make them human, and motivations that drive their actions. Avoid making them too perfect or too flawed; instead, strike a balance that makes them believable and engaging. Show their growth throughout the story, allowing readers to witness their development. Remember, a likeable character doesn't have to be flawless, but they should be someone readers can invest in emotionally. It seems obvious, but many writers fail at creating truly likeable characters.
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