#a side by side scene by scene copy from book to page would take more money it would take 400 years to produce and it would be boring

[so-many-ocs]

practical writing advice

part 2

avoid writing in bed if you can. writing in bed is the mind-killer. writing in bed is the little death that brings obliteration. you may think "but i can write AND be cozy" you will get sleepy so fast. 98% of the time when i try to get a nighttime writing session done in bed i go to sleep. maybe 70% of the time if it's an afternoon writing session. also it fucking kills your wrists.

STRETCH before writing. stretch as many parts of your body as possible ESPECIALLY YOUR WRISTS! i have chronic tendonitis in both of my arms from not doing this and it is manageable but it is Not Fun!

plug your phone in on the other side of the room. better yet, plug it in and leave it in another room. better yet, power it off and leave it in another room. "i'll just check one quick thing" do not underestimate the power of the doomscroll.

do a warmup. look up writing prompts (i like one-word prompts or prompts that focus on a general theme as it's easier to integrate into my writing style), set a timer for fifteen minutes, or ten, or five, and go ham. make it shitty or incomprehensible, as long as you make it. create a dump document for all your warmups. i currently have two novels in the works that started as one of these fifteen minute little warmups.

pick your background noise ahead of time if you use it, and look for something long. i listen to 3-hour-long silent hill ambient mixes on youtube dot com.

take breaks. around every 45 minutes, as i'm noticing myself begin to lose focus, i get up, grab a drink, get my blood flowing, and give myself some space to breathe.

sometimes i sit down to write and i think "every atom in my body is averse to doing this right now. i would rather dance barefoot on a bed of nails than open my laptop and start typing." and you know what i do? i go do something else instead. don't force it! it will become a chore.

that being said! write as often as possible. try to write every day. try to write at the same time. don't beat yourself up if you can’t, BUT the more often you write, the more often you'll want to write.

if you're stuck on a scene or a page or a chapter, go back to the last place where you felt like you knew what you were doing and start writing from there. keep a copy of your other writing in case you want to reuse it or refer back!

i don't know if this is something that will be helpful for other people but i start mentally preparing myself for my writing session a few hours ahead of time. i will say to myself, "today, at this time, i'm gonna sit down and write that scene where mina walks out on her book club, and it's going to be awesome and i'm looking forward to it." then, by the time i actually begin, i basically have the whole thing written out in my head and can just put it down to paper. it's a good way to at least kickstart the session !

ok thanks bye

[honnelander]

I CAME AS SOON AS I SAW THE POST

can we get a little snippet of go fish!reader maybe reading Pride and Prejudice aloud to Zoro after he had been struck down by Mihawk, like how Nami did, and Sanji over hearing and just staying by the door to listen to her read or something? i think a little blurb like that would be so cute

AHHH CUUUUTE!! i modified this a bit to have it fit into the overall story's timeline. instead of Zoro being struck down by Mihawk, he's sick and bedridden. thank you for this :))

here's go fish!Sanji listening to you reading:

masterlist

"Ohhh Zoro," you quietly squealed, trying your best to keep your voice down from disturbing a very ill and bedridden Zoro from waking. "Are you ready for this? Oh my god, this is another one of my favorite parts," you gushed, sighing dreamily as you put your very loved and well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice on your lap before hurriedly picking it up again to continue reading aloud to your friend in his room.

"I'm in love with you, most ardently," you read, voice quiet enough and full of wistfulness.

As you continued to read the story, your voice going up and down in excitement as you read the scene aloud, Sanji could hear your quiet gushing from the hallway. He was carrying a small tray of food, two bowls of his special homemade chicken soup sitting right in the middle, one for Zoro and another for you since he knew you'd spent all afternoon reading to the sick swordsman and figured you must be hungry by this point as well.

With careful steps, he silently stood right behind the doorway as he listened to your soothing voice bring the words that were printed on the page of your favorite book to life with a small smile on his face. The blonde cook closed his eyes for a minute, letting the sound of your voice wash over him as he admired you without you ever knowing.

He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe right outside of Zoro's room, gently resting the side of his head against it as well, as his mind wandered for a second, getting lost in the story.

Apparently, it was the part in the story where Mr. Darcy was confessing his love to Elizabeth, but as he listened further, he realized that it wasn't the end of the story where they both confessed their feelings mutually, it was more in the beginning where Mr. Darcy's sentiments were one-sided and Sanji couldn't help but feel a sort of kinship with the fictional man.

While the situation he was in with you wasn't as dramatic as Jane Austen's creation (if there even was a 'situation', he thought dejectedly), the feelings he had for you were certainly real and very complicated.

Was he in love with you? He wasn't entirely sure, but he did like you, much more than a friend should. He had feelings that he only had for you, and no one else. Sure, he's come to love the rest of the crew and Nami too, but none of them could make him feel the things that he only seemed to experience with you.

Suddenly, he wondered how he would confess these sentiments to you one day. Would he pull a Mr. Darcy and just walk into your room one night, spilling out his heart's desires for you in a single breath because if he didn't, he might not have the courage to tell you otherwise? Telling you the thoughts that consistently plagued his mind, trying to sort them out aloud in front of you because they were driving him mad like poor Mr. Darcy? Or would he plan something out and take his time? Wait until he understood what he felt because he 'wanted to get it right'?

Sanji didn't know, it was too soon to tell... but what he did know was that if he stood out there loitering any longer, the soup would get cold and the chef in him would rather die than serve you something like that.

Coincidently, it seemed like the chapter had just ended, you letting out a lighthearted sigh as you softly commented to Zoro, "Ok Zoro, now wasn't that chapter just... extraordinary?"

"It certainly was, Missus," Sanji commented cheekily, suppressing a smile as best he could as he walked into the room.

"Oh! Sanji!" you gasped as your hand quickly covered your racing heart. "Jeez, you scared me." You watched as Sanji placed the tray of soups onto the nightstand. "Sorry. I, uh, didn't realize I was reading so loudly I attracted an audience," you said, your cheeks heating up slightly at the thought that Sanji had been listening to you for who knows how long.

"'Sorry'?" Sanji repeated, a slight frown on his face momentarily as looked down at the tray, glancing at you over his shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for, my love." Once the tray was secured on the nightstand, he fully turned to face you, his hands in his pockets as he put on his most charming smile. "Now," he started smoothly, "I'm starting to think that maybe I should get sick so you can come and read to me in bed all day."

Sanji's smile only grew as he watched your face become even more flushed at his words.

You laughed slightly, eyes darting away from his as you asked, "Don't you mean when you're bedridden?"

There was a long pause, the silence becoming deafening at your question. You could feel the tension in the room become thicker the longer that Sanji stayed quiet. Your hands started to feel slightly clammy as your heart rate picked up.

You swallowed. "You know, instead of 'in bed'... since you'd be sick and everything?" you asked finally, as you mustered up the courage to look back up at Sanji from your chair.

At his expression, your heart skipped a beat. Sanji was still looking at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief (and sincerity?) and another emotion you didn't understand, a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but feel like Sanji knew what he said and that he had said it on purpose.

His crooked smile only deepened. "Sure," he agreed simply. "When I'm sick and ill, and completely bedridden." He blinked, inhaling a small breath as he looked down at his shoes for a moment before looking back up at you, a small questioning look in his eyes as he quietly asked, "And you'd do that? Come and read to me all day?"

"Of course," you answered without hesitation, frowning slightly at Sanji believing that you wouldn't do for even a moment. "I would do anything to help you feel better, Sanji."

Now, between the two of you, it was pretty obvious that Sanji was the smooth-talking flirt, with you never really outrightly flirting with him in the conventional sense, but wow, you might as well be labeled the biggest flirt in his mind because your kind, thoughtful words and gestures never failed to make his heart flutter and knees go weak.

And the way you would look at him, time and time again, whenever you would gently reassure him that yes, you did indeed care about him and that you never truly forgot him... it was enough for him to feel his heart nearly explode.

There it was again, your kind, thoughtful, and beautiful expression on full display for him as you looked up at him through your lashes.

And just like that, Sanji's fears were completely washed away.

He let out a slight laugh, turning his face to the side, his blonde bangs facing you to try and hide the very faint blush on his cheeks. "Aw, you're too kind to me, Missus." He looked back at you, his rosy glow fading slightly, however, his smile was still bright. "Thank you."

At seeing Sanji happy, you were happy. You returned his smile and with a slight teasing tone you said, "But I'll only read to you if you promise to read to me when I'm in bed, sick and completely bedridden."

The blonde chef laughed lightly again, partly because of your now little inside joke, but because the thought that you even had to ask him if he 'would ever do that for you' was completely absurd. Of course he would. He would've been reading to you from the moment you were awake and not feeling well, all the way until you were sleeping, and even then he would continue to recite the pages of the book you loved aloud while you slept, so your dreams and subconscious mind were filled with the sound of his voice well into the night.

Sanji would do anything for you. And you never even needed to ask.

But he didn't tell you all that, not wanting to freak you out with his intense train of thought, so he simply said, with a small smile and twinkle in his eye, "Consider it done."

From Sanji's right, the sound of bedsheets rustling caught both of your attention.

Zoro groaned, gingerly opening his eyes as he pulled his blanket closer to himself. "Ugh... waiter? What are you doing here?"

Sanji looked down at him, a hint of concern on his pretty features as he replied, "Ah, Mosshead, you're awake. I, uh, thought I'd do a little room service and bring some soup for you and y/n."

At hearing your name, Zoro opened his eyes again. "Y/n?" He slowly turned his head towards you. "What are you-" he started to ask but when he saw the book on your lap he groaned and covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow. "Oh don't tell me- you've been reading that garbage to me while I was sleeping this whole time?"

But you weren't offended by his question. Instead, you laughed. "If you mean masterpiece then, yes. You're right. I had just gotten to the good part too!"

Zoro shifted in his bunk, getting comfortable. "Well, by all means, keep going," he deadpanned. In a more sincere tone he said, "I haven't slept this good in a while." But then, with a ghost of a smile, he added, "Your book is so boring it puts me right to sleep."

"Hey, a win is a win," you laughed joyfully. You looked up at Sanji for a second, wanting to share your little moment of happiness of Zoro wanting to continue reading with him.

But Sanji was already looking at you, eyebrows raised in surprise and a disbelieving closed-lipped smile on his face. His smile only grew at seeing the happiness you radiated, his eyes scanning over your face. "Well, in that case," he started as he made his way towards the door. "Let me excuse myself then. I wouldn't want to get in the way of your storytime, Mr. Mosshead."

As Sanji left the room and stepped out into the hall, he could hear you giggle at his 'Mr. Darcy' joke while Zoro grumbled, a sweet sense of satisfaction coming over him.

But before he went back to the kitchen to start on tonight's dinner prep, he loitered outside of Zoro's room again, leaning against the doorframe like he did moments earlier, out of view, so could listen to you read once more for a bit, a small, wistful smile on his face.

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[bimbosandbubbles]

❀⤷Summer Frights!

Summertime Slashers m.list here

Starring Yandere Ghostface Josuke and Okuyasu

Synopsis-Your anxiety raises high when there’s been a slew of murders around your small town,rumored to be a copycat Ghostface terrorizing the town. Soon though your anxiety raises even higher when one night the Ghostface gives you a call around midnight.

Warning’s-murder,descriptive gore,dub con,non con,phone sex,multiple sex scenes,knife play,anxiety,heavy degrading,vulgar words,breeding,double penetration(oral and vaginal), mask kink,praising,pet names,unhealthy obsessive behavior,photos taken without consent,video taken without verbal consent, pussy eating, bondage,blood,biting,yandere,dacryphilia,humiliation,fear play,mentions of boxing Okuyasu and Med student Josuke.NOT PROOFREAD

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ AND UP! MINORS DONT INTERACT!

Word count-10.8k/10,891(First fic and I went overboard)

A shaky breath falls from your lips, a apparent sign of the inner turmoil you feel inside. You thought that this wouldn't happen anymore..That this couldn't happen in your city. That the ever looming presence of death couldn't haunt you so early into your life..you're only a freshman college student,barely graduated from a small high school in Morioh. Why here? Why peaceful little Morioh? Why did a dumb copy cat of a serial kill have to terrorize this quaint town?

And why did you let the thought of Ghostface morning haunt your nightmares? They were everywhere! In the morning when you woke up,they were your very first thought. When you showered,you constantly wondered if they would be stalking from behind the curtains,waiting to mangle and mane your soft body. When you walked from class, you imagined the killer in black being anyone.

Like this very moment right now. You imagine the seemingly kind house wife who just waved at you secretly using one her kitchen knives to kill the poor victim you read about in a news article posted a mere week ago. A victim you considered an acquaintance before his untimely death. You had known him from high school simply because he did something completely unexpected to someone who looks like you. He had confessed,poured out his pure and untainted feelings for you. However,you didn't feel the same and gently rejected him,making sure to still encourage him to stay sweet like the way he was. Over the years the two of you only shared small hello's or encouragements for the future.

But now..he had no more future. For,he was dead,mutilated and found with ripped pages of fat fetish pornos in his emptied stomach that was bare of any bodily organ. The thought of his suffering throughout the ordeal made your skin crawl in fear. Was he screaming for help? Was he begging anyone from the closest proximity to stop his death? Most of all,did he plead for the killers not to hurt him,to spare him?

And because of those bothersome thoughts you couldn't help but think that anyone is guilty for such a sick crime. Every step you take,you look around your once peaceful route to home,wondering if one of these seemingly normal people murdered someone without remorse. The houses you once stared at in calmness and familiarity were now morphed into murder houses. Houses,owned by killers that could be waiting to torture their next victim in utter bloodlust. Nowhere and no one were considered safe to anymore.

You grip your book bag tighter to your shoulder,holding the cool leather material closer to your side. The baby blue sundress you're adorning being softly tugged by refreshing summer wind. The sensation being a reliever to your anxiety induced sweat. Which reminds you that it's really summer now. That you should be happy because you just left your last class of the semester and that you won't have to worry about class for three whole months. However,despite the beautiful sun beaming down at you paired with the perfect breeze you can't help but feel so gloomy inside. How could anyone be happy when someone was just murdered only a week ago? How could anyone be happy when your acquaintance was already the 5th victim of a copy cat serial killer?

Immediately your morbid thoughts are shooed away by a loud booming voice. "Oi,(Reader)! How can ya leave without saying goodbye?" You snap your head back,not being able to fight how a toothy smile once you see your goofy friend. " 'Yasu,I'm sorry! I was in a rush!" Your once eager feet stopped walking to allow the male to catch up with you. Though it's not like he needed you to stop,the man is fit,years of working out and boxing shaping his athletic body. Just as soon as he called out from a distance he's already stooped next you.

"So you were in a rush?" His raspy voice asks. "Mhm I was,I'm just kinda pent and wound up from school and.." You don't have the heart to finish what you were gonna say. But it doesn't seem like you need to because Okuyasu finishes it for you,"The murders." You find Okuyasu's bluntness is nice,because at least something is straightforward to you in this mystery of a murderer or murderers.

"Yeah. It's been kinda umm..scary for me at least." Okuyasu nods as he puts his long muscled arm around your meaty shoulder. "They got me feeling on the fence a little too,especially that last guy. I mean porno mags stuffed in there? Plus them being that weird feeding shit,the guy must've been a real sick pervert." Okuyasu says nonchalantly,as he massages the flesh on right shoulder.

You can't help but think that that's why he had confessed to you before. Because you were a fetish to him,something he got off to and that's it. Now that Okuyasu pointed that out to you can't help but feel a little less empathetic towards the victim now. Disgusting. "Yeah,that's weird." You dryly add. "But umm what'd you chase after me for? I know you didn't just come here to scold me for leaving so soon." Okuyasu's eye's widen like he's barely recalled something. "Right! Umm Josuke and I wanted to invite to a little party at the beach! It'll only be us and a few other friends."

At that,your smile slightly falters. The thought of going to a party with a serial killer on the loose scared you. "Umm Yasu I'm not sure..I just wanna stay home at the moment." Okuyasu already looks at you with pleading black eyes,"C'mon (Reader), we haven't hanged out in forever. Josuke gets ya all the time cause he goes to a stupid university with ya. So please,won't ya just go with us?"

You chuckle," 'Yasu the boxing gym is right by the university,I always talk to you for like 15 minutes a day before and after class." He whines,"But today ya didn't say goodbye,Josuke got you forgetting all about me. That's why you gotta go to this party!" You find his needy behavior cute—almost endearing so you humor him. "Hmm..maybe I'll go. But if I don't go then why don't you and Josuke come over after the party? Just knock on the door and I'll let you in." Okuyasu pouts before speaking,"But what if ya’re sleepin?" You smile at him as you touch the hand he has resting on your shoulder," I won't be,trust me." Technically your promise wasn't empty,ever since the murders you've been having a hard time sleeping.

"Got ya! That sounds good. But I gotta go Josuke's waiting for me with his fancy ass car." He moves his hand to let go of your shoulder but he's met with your pudgy hand gripping it to your flesh harder. "Wait,can you walk me home please Yasu? I feel safer with you around." It's true,the man's positive energy managed to make you briefly forget your dark thoughts earlier.

He stares at you in thought,looking at your needy expression. It's almost like he visibly melted at your words and expression. "Yeah I'll getcha home! Lemme just call Josuke so he knows." Okuyasu pulls out his cracked phone and quickly calls Josuke,"Yo bro,(Reader) wants me to walk her home so just pick me up in the front of her house. Alright bye." He stuffs his phone back into his pocket and tightens his arm he has draped over you.

"Thanks 'Yasu." You kindly remark. " 'Course gotta keep my girl safe." You brush off the usage of "my girl" due to the fact that Josuke and him use it only in reference of how protective they are of you cause of the years long friendship the three of you share. At least that's what you think,right? It couldn't be used romantically,not when Okuyasu and Josuke got new girls on their arms most of the time. However the thought of being Okuyasu's or Josuke's girl..or both is something you find yourself frequently fantasizing about. But that's just silly,dreamful thinking.

The two of you start walking and talking. Conversation flows easily with Okuyasu,it always does. It does too with Josuke but Okuyasu somehow always eases you. He's your comforter,he always has been.

"Welp this is my stop." Okuyasu's voice says. You nod sadly,not wanting to say goodbye so soon to your living comfort. " 'Suke's not here yet,why don't you come inside until he shows up?" Okuyasu doesn't even think before he exclaims,"Yes!" You giggle at his enthusiasm,unlocking the door as you do so.

You enter and Okuyasu does the same behind you,making sure to close and lock the door.

"So are you hungry?" He smiles widely,"I always am!" You smile,"Yes you are! I got some spaghetti and meatballs if that's what you want."

"Yes, I love Italian food! I'll eat whatever you got left if ya let me!" You scrunch your brows in mock thought,"Okay,I'll let you have the whole container." He makes a noise of celebration as he follows you to the kitchen.

The pair of you walk into the kitchen smiling and chuckling, though your happy demeanor falters once you see the sink filled to the brim with dishes. " 'Yasu you can get the food from the fridge,I got to work on the dishes." Okuyasu nods with no hesitation as he rushes to the fridge. You grab an apron that Okuyasu had given you for a birthday years ago with a cringy motto that reads,"A dolla will make ya holla!"

Once he find the spaghetti he puts it in the microwave and he smiles gleefully once he sees you putting the apron on to wash the dishes. "Ya still kept that old thing?" You nod,"Yeah,it's my favorite." You don't miss the small blush that paints his cheeks when you remark that it's your favorite. "Good,it looks great on ya." You smile and turn to make soapy water for the seemingly never ending pile of dishes you had to wash.

Okuyasu’s food is finished in the microwave the moment the beep is heard. He grabs his food and sits down on a chair by the island. You turn your back to him once the water is done and start washing dishes. "Do ya normally wear a apron when ya do the dishes?" You answer back,"No,just when I'm wearing something like a dress or something I like a lot." He hums in thought before you hear him messily slurp and devour the spaghetti.

He swallows before hitting you with another question,"So where are your parents? They're usually home by now." You scrub off a nasty dish while replying,"Umm well I kinda own the house now. Since the beginning of summer,they left and said I had the house to myself. I don't think they'll be back for a few more months. They said that since I'm a college student I deserve my own private space and used that as an excuse to finally travel,not that I mind of course,they deserve that break."

"So ya're alone for a few months?" Okuyasu asks. "Yeah I am." You confirm once more. "Then me and Josuke should come over more often." He quickly says. "And Koichi and his little girlfriend too." He makes sure to add. "Yeah,I could definitely use the company in that case." You warmly welcome the idea. Not only so you're not experiencing isolation but also so you won't make yourself a easy target for the killer.

There's a few minutes of silence—comfortable minutes ,one's where you just hear clanging of the dishes occasionally and your dear friend excitedly devouring the food you've made.  You've grown so accustomed to the silence that you can't stop the shocked gasp that falls from your lips once you feel a big calloused hand placed on your wide waist. "That was yummy,thank ya (Reader)."  He doesn't bother to move his heavy hand once he hears the little gasp instead he tightens his grasp on your squishy waist.

"O-Oh you're welcome 'Yasu. It's a thank you for walking me home." He smiles,"No need to thank me. Like I said I gotta take care of my girl." He emphasizes his words when starts tracing small circles onto the cotton fabric of your dress. "This is real pretty,"he pinches the material of the dress,"Looks really cute on ya. But you always look real cute."  Suddenly nothing else matters,not the dishes,not the fact that Josuke's coming soon,not even the murder that's roaming Morioh,all that matters right now is Okuyasu's touch.

You lean into his touch,"Thanks 'Yasu." Your words come out breathlessly. He hums in acknowledgement,his now two hands becoming his main focus. He squeezes the abundant flesh of your tummy that's hidden by your dress. "Ya're so damn soft." You can't help but let out a small whine at his gentle yet rough actions.

He leans against your back pushing his extremely tall frame against yours,black eyes leering at you. "Thank you 'Yasu." You can't help the awkward and repetitive response,not used to your friend behaving this way with you. Sure,he was flirty with you before but never this upfront with you. His touch advances,inching further up to your slightly exposed cleavage. " 'Y-Yasu.?" You can't help the panicked question. What is he gonna reach for?

"Yeah?" The grumble of his voice sounds erotic,almost like he's turned on right now. "What're you doing?" The question you asked held no malicious harm instead just innocent wonder. That must've snapped out of his daze. "I'm just trynna give ya hug,Josuke's gonna be outside soon so I'm saying a early goodbye." With that his big arms wrap around the whole expanse of your plush middle,his hard rock chest molds against your roll adorned back.

He leans down to give you a wet kiss on your neck,which makes you let out a shocked whine. " 'Yasu!" You exclaimed in embarrassment. "What?" He asks cluelessly. "You can't kiss me without telling me! It's embarrassing!" He smiles,"Yeah? Well Imma kiss you." He kisses your neck again,the attention on your sensitive neck making you giggle.

You slightly push his head away,"Now you know what to do if you wanna kiss me." He hums in acknowledgement. Soon a honk rings out from the front of your house. "Gotta go! Josuke's out front." He let's go of you which leaves you missing his warm touch.

" 'Kay say hi to him for me! See ya later 'Yasu." The male nods and rushes to the front door,the door slamming as he leaves. You leave the kitchen once he's gone to make sure to lock the door. And slowly you trudge back to the kitchen,"Time to do the dishes again."

☠︎

To say the least you were beat after doing the dishes. It's such a easy labor required task however you dread it. But it's not only dirty cups or plates draining you,it's the constant anxiety you feel deep down. Plus the way Okuyasu was behaving with you was different..It made you question so many things. However,the energy for being thoughtful and curious was sucking up too much from you.

You had to take a nap,just a short one. You just need to catch up with your sleep. You wander to find your phone so you can put it on silent and not be bothered with the outside world right now. Surely,you find it and set it to silent,placing it on the coffee table next to the couch that you plop on.

You lay down and curl up like a baby. Sleep,you tell yourself. Go to sleep. Though you craved a nap,you knew that a nightmare might come to haunt your only escape from reality. You haven't been having them too often but when they came,they'd be terrifying.

You forcibly shut your eyes and just relax. Soon enough you find everything leaving,all that is here is just a dreamless peaceful abyss.

However peace can never last long when death is afoot. You wake up with a start,gasping for air and clenching your poor couch cushions in fear. Eventually though,you're able to calm down. You sit up and reach for your phone to look at the time. The screen glare's at you as your eyes struggle to adapt to the light,"12:00 am. How long was I out for?" As soon as you voice your confusion. You see your phone alert you that a unknown caller is calling. You do what everyone else does when they see an unknown caller alert— decline.

"I'm hungry as hell." You mutter. You get up and stretch,letting out an almost pornagraphic moan. Your attention is taken off stretching the moment you see your phone violently shaking. You roll your eyes in annoyance. Who the hell is this persistent? You grab your phone and instantly your annoyed attitude morphs into one of fear.

Ten texts and multiple missed calls decorate your lock screen. They read threats like,"Answer the phone slut!" Or "I'll fucking murder you if you don't answer right now." Your breathing quickens,"What the hell should I do?" You thought of calling the cops but immediately you think about the original ghost face killings. Ghost face was always near by when he made calls so..that means the killers might be very close to you. But this might be just sick prank call,right?

So you do the not so smart thing and try to survive instead. Hurriedly you call the number and find yourself met with the taunting ring of the phone. Finally,an alarmingly deep voice speaks on the other end of the line. "Imma make this simple for you. Start rubbing your pussy right now."

Your breath takes a pause in your throat. Did you hear that right? "W-What?" You ask. "I said start rubbing your pussy now. Don't be a disobedient slut." For some reason a bit of fear leaves you,being replaced with courage. "No." You state. The voice chuckles,"No? What,now you want to act all brave? I know that you tremble in fear every time you hear about what we’ve done in the news. So don't act all confident with me and just rub your pussy like a good slut."

You gasp in amazed fear. This was—it couldn't

be—Ghostface themselves or himself. The voice chuckles once more at your shocked display. "Aww you're so cute but you're so dumb! That's why I need you to rub your pretty little cunt for me,it's the only thing your little dumb brain can handle."

With a uneven breath you ask,"Do you want me to umm..get naked?" You could hear a smug smile once he replies,"Good girl! You're learning how to please me. Yes,I want you to get naked and I want you right in front of that window you got in front of the coffee table. I want you to have your legs spread completely wide with your back against the table,I wanna see ya just like that,got it?" See you? He could see you? The thought alone makes your blood run cold.

"I expect an answer every time I say something. Do you understand me?" You quickly cough up a small yes. "Good,now hurry up and undress." You couldn't believe you found yourself submitting so easily to a killer—a perverted killer who's getting off to your garnered fear of them. It makes you so angry—so enraged yet you found yourself obeying like some obedient pup all because of fear. Such a coward—such a pussy you are right now. However you can't bring yourself to scold your submissive actions any harder because absolute terror is overruling the anger your feel.

And that's how you find yourself bare of any clothing,nude and vulnerable for the eyes of a sick fuck. Your baby blue dress stays by your feet,a visual reminder of your embarrassing submission . A low groan is heard through the phone , a groan that sounds so lustful it has you curling into yourself. "Fuckkkk,you're so perfect. You're so fucking gorgeous. Spin for me,I want to see all of you." The demand leaves no room for arguments so you shyly—albeit awkwardly you do a little turn hurriedly . "Mmm,my perfect girl. Do another spin for me,slowly this time. I wanna look at what I own."

You obey his command once more,dying of humiliation the longer each turn took. What's worse is you don't know where he's looking from. Is he in the front of the window? Is he in a tree up above? You don't even know if it's just a he,it could be a them—the murderous duo who's now personally terrorizing you. "Good girl,now put the phone on ya table and put me on speaker. Now spread your legs for me like a good girl."

Once again you find yourself obeying him to the exact T. As you bend down to place your back against the table you wonder why he's doing this to you? Why you? Why your town? Why poor little Morioh?

You feel the cool wood make contact with the rolls that adorn your soft back. A little whimper leaving your insanely chapped lips once the cold table touches you. "Mmm,good girl,"he practically purrs,"Now I don't want you to start rubbin just yet. Play with those pretty tits,yeah?" The phasing of his last sentence made you queasy because of the sheer audacity to make that sound like a question when at it's core it's a order. A order that reminds you of your fear.

Your fingers slightly tease your blooming bud—the cool air teasing your nipple away from it's natural softness. It feels nice—good so good that you almost forget why you're doing this. Your other hand squeezes the stretch mark decorated breast on the side closest to your heart. The warm,gentle attention riles out a small moan from your mouth.

The man on phone coos to you,celebrating the obedience he didn't have to fight you on. "You're so gorgeous! So glad you're such a good girl for me and I didn't have to hurt your perfect body! My smart girl knows what's best for her,huh?"

You hum a response,too focused on the task that's melting in your hands. Your breast continues to be meddle with,each massaging motion feeling better than the last.

Somehow his already deep voice reaches a lower octave,"Stop. Start playin with your pussy." Lust oozes from the speaker. Untouched,evil desire is all you heard come out of him at this moment. Is that why he's doing to you? Lust? To own your body with the leash of fear he has snug around your neck? What a sick pervert.

You reach down,inching away from your sweaty chest—touching the wet arousal you're disgusted to have formed. You could call it a natural bodily reaction to the fondling your breasts received but you know—you know that his degrading praise had a hand in the layer of moisture that built up on your pussy.

Your fingers clip onto your aching clit,a rubbing motion starting on from there. Rub,rub,rub, and rub is all you can think about—your pleasure,the promise of cumming is what you deserve for being forced to put on a show for a murderer. "Atta girl,keep rubbin. Your pussy looks so pretty,doll! Fuck,just wanna stuff my face in there. Would ya like me to eat you out,huh,sweet thing?" His words are slightly labored this time,an almost groany tone releasing from his lips.

"Mhm!" Is all you mutter. A short answer,yet just the answer that the serial killer needed to hear. "Yeah? Want me to suck on that fuckin pretty clit? Want me to force my face in between those thick ass thighs? Yeah—shit,wanna have you on my face—don't wanna fuckin breath until you cum all over my face." His groans—oh my god his groans, your could feel your needy cunt clench around nothing. He sounded so good,so wanton,so needy! But you can't enjoy his sounds,not when he's taunting you like this—not when he and his partner murdered five innocent people!

But what if you just let yourself indulge for a second? Just a quick second and then you could go back to quivering in fear. Oh please—oh please just a moment to get pleasure from his desire of you. "Hmmph—Shit all I can think about is your cute ass sittin on ma face. I'll eat your pretty little cunt for days! Fuck—Fuck—put ya fingers inside! Wann' see your pussy stretched out."

You don't question the command—two fingers sink into your clamping hole. A keen frees itself from your gasping throat. Feels so good! Feels so good to have something inside,something to distract your empty pussy. You start making a up and down motion,each movement making contact with your warm sensitive walls.

"Ah—feels good!" You babble. It's embarrassing—demeaning how easily you gave into him—the pleasure he gives has you oh so sensitive. "Yeah,baby? Ya cunt feel good?" You furiously nod your head,knowing that verbal responses weren't the only thing he'd understand. He's watching you after all.

"Shit, you're so good for me! Ma lil slut—my good fuckin cock whore! Fuck—wish I could be in ya instead of your little ass fingers, I could make ya feel so much better—stretch ya out real nice and good,have ya screaming fa' me and scratching my back. Wouldn't I,baby?" You almost choke on your moans when you force out a response. " Y-You would! You'd mmm—make me scream!"

"Shitttt...keep talkin like that,sweet thing. Wanna replace your fingers so fuckin badly now—gonna make sure your little cunt is a cum dump once I'm done with ya! Gonna bred ya and ruin ya for anybody else—shit—fuck yourself harder right now."

You oblige and start reaching — wiggling fingers inching deeper for that wonderfully good spot. You feel so close if only you could find that small mushy spot that would make you see stars.

Almost like he could read your body language perfectly he says,"Ya're close aren't you? Ya gonna cum soon? Fuck—me too! Gonna cum—wanna cum with ya! Shit—need ya to cum now."

Almost like some magic word you find that special spot and a pathetic mewl comes out of your mouth. Your back arches out,the position forcing out your plentiful tummy out even more.

You huff and huff an attempt to catch your lost breath. The man has became silent, any sign of him being present is gone.

The air is only full of the smell of your sex and your constant puffs. Finally, he speaks up again,"Ya did a good job,sweet thing! Call ya tomorrow at the same time." With that he leaves you to sit in silence accompanied by the constant blaring reminder of his quick exit.

Your mouth gapes open,"What the fuck just happened?"

☠︎☠︎

"(Readerrrr), ya there?" Josuke calls out. His concerned diamond blue eyes pour into yours. Your body flinches at the sound of your friend's deep voice. "Y-Yeah,just a little shaken up." You reply. Smoothly Josuke's sleeveless arms round your shoulders and coddles you closer to his chest. "Ya? Did ya have a nightmare before we got here?"

You accept his affection gesture—leaning in and pushing your pudgy cheek into his chiseled pecs. "Why didn't you tell me and Okuyasu,we could've taken care of ya way earlier." Chiding with him,Okuyasu pipes out,"Yeah! You can tell us anythin. We got ya back."

The thought of spilling your guts and telling them whatever happened only an hour ago crosses your mind—it's brief because you realize it's stupid. No way you'd put any of your friends in danger involving the terrorizers of Morioh. That's right—it's only been a hour since the call,only an an hour since you've dirtily indulged into his demands. But no—enjoying it meant they'd win and you can't let them have anymore power over you.

A part of you wonders what if? What if Josuke and Okuyasu came just at the stroke of midnight? Would they have been able to protect you from the murderers? But that what if is a distant reality—the real reality being is that your favorite duo showed up at your doorstep with snacks in hand and bright smiles. Stories of Koichi being forced into a embarrassing bathing suit by Yukako and Rohan screaming Josuke's head off when he buried him in the sand while he was sleeping on beach were exchanged with you.

Stories that kept the air light and distractive until the three of you sat on the couch to watch a movie. The polite custom of staying silent during a movie was driving you crazy,the silence leaving too much space in your head to think about what occurred.

You place a fake smile onto your lips," Thanks you guys but really I'm fine,I promise." To add weight to your adds you further snuggle into Josuke's chest and reach for Okuyasu's mangled hand,to which he gratefully accepts by gripping your hands in a no escape hold. "If ya say so." Okuyasu says. Josuke gives an annoyed look towards the unaware male,one that you've learned means that Okuyasu didn't say the right thing or he said something dumb. "What Okuyasu meant to say is if you want us to stay the night or just stay away longer?"

At first,the instinctual answer was no—strictly because you don't want to cause them too much trouble. Josuke constantly takes you places in his car because you're too fearful of the bus or walking too far away from home. Okuyasu was a already like a guard dog before the murders,but now he constantly wants to stick to you like glue no matter where you go. Of course there's exceptions of this happening like today but majority of the time that's what happens.

However,that first move to say no is gone out the window once they start touching you. Josuke starts thumbing at your back,creating soothing patterns all over the the hot skin. Okuyasu's big veiny hands are twiddling with your fingers like you're some dainty little thing to him. The touches feel good—comforting,making your poor little stressed mind let go.

"Okay." You mumble. "Yeah?" Josuke confirms. "Mhm." You hum into his chest. "Hell yeah! We haven't stayed over in forever!" Okuyasu exclaims. "Are we gonna sleep in your room?" The blunt man asks. Now that he's mentioned it,you're not sure where they should sleep. The suggestion of your room didn't really concern you all that much. After all these are your friends so won't do anything strange,right?

Sure,they are 6'1 and 6'4 men who's body weight mostly consist of pure hard earned muscle but besides that the thought of them sleeping in a room shared with you isn't really intimidating at all. In fact,it comforts you knowing that they're going to be with you in your room. You know you'd have incoming nightmares or a sleepless night ahead caused by that call,so two friends that happen to be men and very attractive are just doing what good friends do.

"Of course, you're gonna sleep in my room,silly! It wouldn't be a sleep over if you weren't." You happily exclaim. "Yeah!" Okuyasu leans over you to give Josuke a type of handshake that you don't even bother to look at. It fills you with glee to see the two of them so ecstatic to be staying with you. However,the feeling of glee doesn't overcome the impending sleepiness you start to feel.

"I think I should start setting up the bed for us." You state. Josuke's brow perks up in a inquisitively,"Us?" A rush of flustered heat floods through your body for the assumption that three of you would share your bed. You feel so comfortable with them it merely slipped out. "Um—I mean it's just cause I have pretty big bed and they'll be plenty of space for you two but I realize how silly that is now. Just forget it I'll

get—

"No,No! That's perfect, me and Oku' won't mind at all. You're our friend after all." You catch many nice things about his interrupting sentence,especially the way his honeyed tongue says "our " with almost a possessive gripe. You brush over it though, no matter how odd it sounded—instead you choose to favor his laxness about sharing a bed with you.

"Uhh well perfect! Let me just set up then and I'll call you two up to bed." You offer a marshmallowey smile before you turn from the pair and walk your way up the stairs—missing the lust glazed stares of your trusted friends directed at your teasing dimpled cheeks peeking out from your loose cotton shorts. If only you could see Josuke and Okuyasu hissing as they adjust the semi's that's grown in their jeans.

You find yourself in your room,adjusting your bed for more room and comfort. You move your stuff animals and overly big pillows,setting it on free spaces throughout the room. That's it,that's all you had to do. Yet,you weren't gonna call them up. Not yet.

You stare down at the baby blue sun dress you took off during the call that you tossed on your floor in a crying haze once the killer hung up. The dress felt like a lingering memory of what happened and what's to come. "Call you tomorrow at the same time." The words ring in your head, a consistent reminder to of your impending doom. You'd be some type of sick sexual outlet for the killer(s). And then what? Once they were done with terrorizing you with calls would they come up from a secret hiding place by your house and tally you off as another victim of theirs? The 6th victim? Or worse would they violate you—ignore your agency—the word no and pleas of reason would mean nothing to them.

And now you're here,being such a coward. Accepting their plans for you like some type of sick puppy. You make yourself sick,the thought of just surrendering makes a deep pool of raging nausea roar from the bottom of your belly. How can you be so—so easily available? You just obeyed whatever he said and when you did stand up to him you just surrendered due to the deep rooted fear of what he and his accomplice could do.

Just how weak willed how are you? Listening to a killer that demanded you to touch yourself and actually doing it! Loving the way he praised you—guiltily indulging into the desperate groans

he howled out for you. And worst of all, actually feeling your heart and clit beat with the promise of this repeating tomorrow. How sick you are.

You swallow a wad of contempt mixed with saliva before your tongue sticks out to wet your flaky lips. You call out," 'Sukeeee! 'Yasu!! You can come up now!" They heard you as soon as you said the sentence because you quickly hear the stomping up the stairs.

During the short time you throw the dress in your closet and look back in a lost daze before you slam the closet door shut. You sigh,"What am I gonna do?" You don't have much time to think about the next step before Okuyasu zooms into the door frame. He's panting—big wide chest moving up and down in a seducing rhythm. "Told ya I could beat you up the stairs Josuke!" He proudly and rather cutely says.

Not even a second later Josuke is up behind Okuyasu, Josuke's shorter frame slightly being blocked by him. It's funny how someone even as tall as Josuke looks short compared to Okuyasu. The pompadour wearing man rolls his eyes,"Yeah,Yeah meathead I know I lost." Okuyasu doesn't even bother to hide his amusement,in fact,the man can't stop laughing. "Maybe you should become a boxer like me instead of being Mr.Future Doctor. That'll get you faster."

"Yeah and risk breaking this nose?" He points to his perfectly pointed and straight nose. "No,thanks." You giggle at their interaction,"I don't know 'Yasu, Josuke's pretty built for someone who doesn't box." Okuyasu dramatically slacks his jaw,"C'monnnn he's not better than babies." Okuyasu flexes his thick arms,posing them in a abstract Y position.

You smile and lean over to touch the hard mass of muscles,chubby digits feel up his biceps. "Ooo very hard 'Yasu!" The teasing compliment flusters the tall man,making him splutter out,"Course they are! I take good care of myself! I eat real good too!" You look at him,"I know, 'Yasu. Anyone can really tell how good you take care of yourself."

Josuke chuckles this time,"Well remember Okuyasu,this future doctor takes care of all your injuries because you always spend your money

too fast and can't afford an actual hospital bill." Okuyasu whines," Man you can't use that against me,I always get my money back anyways."

"Right." Josuke remarks sarcastically. You laugh once more before disputing the whole interaction. "All right,all right you both are just great the way you but you'd be even better asleep." The both whine out an okay and drag their feet to your bed.

You slide into the middle of the soft mattress but stopping halfway though to ask,"Are you guys fine with me being in the middle?" They don't seem to mind because they simply just shake their head. You nod and finally make yourself comfy in the insulated center of the bed.

However,comfort doesn't last long when both of the males turn their handsome faces towards you. You don't fail to catch their staring eyes drinking you in. You feel a pool of nervous saliva coat your mouth," 'Suke can you turn off the light?" The male nods and leans over to switch off the lamp placed on your bedside table.

The second the lights turned off Okuyasu boldly grips wraps his big arms around the whole expanse of your rounded front—thick hard muscle grasping your wide waist in possessiveness.  The actions so sudden a small gasp flees from you. " 'Yasu not so rough!" You exclaim in a flustered panic. He doesn't say anything in response,instead digging his scabbed extremities into the plushness of your pouch sitting above your pillowy hip bones and groin.

He nuzzles his face into your shoulder,instantly knocking out onto your flesh. Josuke and you share a glance of shock and amusement. You break the silence with a quiet giggle. "I forgot how easily he goes to sleep." Josuke nods,"I know right? He's just like a baby." 

You smile,"Yeah,wish I could go to sleep as easily as him." Bright diamond blue eyes peer into you,analyzing your very being. An inhale of breath is heard before," How have you been holding up?" The question rings into the air,almost like you don't want to answer it.  You can't tell Josuke—your protector,your friend,the guys who's ward off bullies by going in a blind rage of attack when bad things has ever been said about you—that the taunting ghost of Morioh called you to get himself off in some sick way.

He'd get only hurt and dragged into a unfolding mess. You can't do that to him! Sure,he's strong and tall,standing at 6'1 feet with some raging fighting skills. But could he take on the Ghostface? The man who mutilated a person you used to know so inhumanly. Not even to mention there's most likely two of them. No,Josuke couldn't know. For his sake.

"I've been doing okay. Just always nervous,ya know?" He hums in acknowledgment,long lashes kissing his cheek bones. His smooth yet textured fingers gently rub back and forth on a small patch of flesh of your cheek. "I know,baby. But me and Oku will take care of ya anyway you need. All you need is us,the rest of the world will just ruin ya."

You look up at him and catch his wrist in affectionate hold,your own fingers rubbing skin as well. "Mmm,I know you'll take care of me—the both of you but I just can't get this constant fear out of me. I'm so scared of them. " Josuke looks at you in thought,trying to find the right thing to say to comfort you.

"You're not their MO,they won't touch you."  You find comfort in how matter factly he states it,like he's completely sure that nothing will happen to you. "I know but it's just the last victim I knew. You remember that one guy in high school who confessed to me? That was him. And it's just so hard for me to actually grasp that he's no longer here anymore."

Josuke's gentle and somber expression melts away,twisting in a disgusted one. "That guy was a creep,(Reader). He just fetishized you,like you're some type of meat. And you're not,you're the most sweetest,most beautiful,most considerate person and that fucker was probably just jerking off to ya body." You're gagged by how easily he tore into the deceased man.

"But still—" You try to speak but you're cut off with a cold cut sentence,"No,I think he got exactly what was coming to him."  You stare up at the male, shocked by the discovery of just how cold and ruthless he could be. " Josuke..." you trail off. He looks at you,his angry expression fleeing from him the moment he does.

"I'm sorry I must scare ya talking like that." He stops rubbing your cheek,replacing the soothing touch with cupping it. You nod,"Yeah,I've never heard you so...cruel before." He leans closer to you,softly sighing. "I know but creeps like that just piss me off. I'm sorry, I won't talk like that in front of you again."

You peer into Josuke's pretty eyes,not missing the barely lingering murderous glint reflecting in them. It fills you with a pool of anxiety and a little drop of suspicion. But Josuke couldn't be one of the men plaguing Morioh,he loves Morioh after all! He talks about the city so beautifully—the people he loves that reside here. So naturally,you easily brush off the creeping inkling.

" It's okay,let's just not talk about it anymore." You assure as you lean into his touch. People could call it delusional or just pure ignorance to brush off someone's body and verbal language if they were acting like Josuke a few moments ago. But no,you feel in your heart that he and Okuyasu could never commit such heinous crimes. They could never..at least that's what you told yourself to help halt the booming alarm bells coursing through your brain.

Josuke nods,"Yeah,let's just go to sleep,m'kay?" You don't protest him,welcoming the suggestion of sleep. " G'Night 'Suke." He hums a response and snuggles closer to your neck. You close your eyes,attempting to drift off to a peaceful darkness.

Josuke's rhythmic breathing against the nape of your neck soothes you like a lullaby does.

☠︎☠︎

"Sorry me and Okuyasu had to go to work. We tried to wake u up but u wouldn't budge. See you later tho and stay safe!" Is what you read as you groggily pour yourself some milk for the cereal you're about to eat.

"Ughgg I can't believe I slept in for so long..." you complain. It's now 4:39 in the afternoon and you find yourself dazzlingly eating not so good cereal.

You guess though,that at least this is somewhat normal for a person your age. To sleep long and be unproductive the moment summer break hits. But you're no longer a normal college student anymore,for the man taunting your innocent city is now personally bothering you.

You wait and wait and wait,doing things to keep your mind busy until the clock strikes 12. Time slowly yet quickly slips the your finger tips. It seems every time you pursue an activity the time goes the quicker. It's almost like the universe can sense your unrelenting anxiety and chose to pick on you.

5' o clock

6' o clock

7' o clock

8' o clock

9'o clock

10'o clock

11' o clock

Your face is crest fallen once you look down at your phone and realize that it's only one hour away from the awaiting phone call. Your chest tightens and suddenly all the air from your lungs flees. One breath,then another,and a third one before you slide down a wall.

It feels like the whole sky is resting on your racing chest. It's too much—it hurts it's so much.

You wheeze and try to compose your breathing. Slowly—extremely slow your compose yourself and once you do you immediately stand up.

"I can't stay here..! I-I have to go!" The thought of staying in your own house is too much right now. The thought of just sitting in your home like a sitting duck almost makes another panic attack ensue. You hurriedly grab your phone and stuff it into the pocket of the mid thigh length shorts you're wearing and slide on some sandals.

You rush out your door and start an instant pace away from your house. Further,you just needed to be further. It's now finally hitting you that there's no real escape! The police couldn't and wouldn't help,after all they haven't done much of anything to help with the disgusting crimes committed prior. Josuke and Okuyasu can't help you,they're just regular young adults just like you.

You're just screwed,so screwed. And you may have made yourself even more screwed by making the rather impulsive decision to walk away from home. But you honestly didn't make it too far,being only 10 houses away from your own. You pull out your phone from your pocket and it's barely 11:15. You could still walk back to your house..but then what? He'd call and tell you to touch yourself again and then you'd just do whatever he says?

That didn't sound good to you at all. However the choices are slim—go to the police force who won't do anything about or accept whatever they'll want you to do. Both of those choice sound horrible,however one has a more merciful fate. If you were to go to the police you feel that they would know but if you were just to be obedient,maybe,just maybe you'd have a sliver of hope to be unharmed.

With that you briskly walk back to your once beloved home. The overwhelming sense of dread constantly pokes at you. You'd just have to suck it up,no matter what they gave to you.

You wrap your ample arms around the protruding roundness of your stomach,gripping anything for comfort. Despite your poor attempt at comfort you still feel a sinking ball of anxiety fall lower into the never ending pit of your tummy.

You never thought that is ever growing ball of sensed doom could get any bigger,however once you arrive at your house and find the door to your house is barely ajar.  

Your heart booms and booms against it's confined cage. The hairs of the back of neck stand tall once you feel the familiar vibration of your phone shaking against your leg. A shaky hand reaches for the cellular device and you see the dreaded numbers.

Unlike last time,you made sure there's no room for blowing off a unknown number again. You answer,fear injecting your tone,"H-Hello?" You can practically hear the smile on the murderer's face,"Heya doll! You've been a good girl fa' us?" This voice...sounds different—raspy and deeper than the voice prior. This must the other half of Ghostface.

"Y-Yes." You answer. "Hmm...Don't sound so bummed out! It'll be good in a lil bit,okay?" You're off put by the shift in personality and tone. This Ghostface sounded nicer,less impatient and sadistic. Although the new voice is a scary find,it doesn't distract you from the slightly opened door to your home. "Did you come to my house?"

The question stands still,the man on the other line letting it cruelly marinate. "I dunno,why don't ya find out?"  A thin layer of anticipation sweat coats your face as you gulp down a wad of saliva. "I'm waiting inside,are ya really gonna make me be here all night?" It's whiny—his tone,almost childish. It reminds you of someone but you can't put your finger in it.

"N-No." You remark. "Yeah? Then,hurry inside. I gotta surprise for ya." Something told you that this surprise isn't something you'll be very glad to see. The images of someone's intestines lining your floor as some sick substitute for romantic rose petals—blood splatters coating the untouched decor instead of calming candles. Or worse,them waiting with knives in their hand preparing to torture you and mutilate your body.

What you find when you enter the invaded house isn't intestines,nor blood splatters. No,what you find is much worse than anyone's sick mutilation. Dozens of polariod pictures decorate the wooden floor. With each step you take it's like looking at a mirror full of past yous because all the images laid on the foundation are of you. Naked,clothed,changing,eating,sleeping—whatever a person's daily normal activities are all there right in front of you.

But what's really the icing on this fucked up cake,is the two bodies cloaked in black and elongated dramatic masks,standing there in the middle of splay of pictures. Ghostface.  The sights are so terrifying,so incredibly off putting that you don't know what to look at—the secretly taken pictures or the Ghostfaces that have ruined Morioh.

"Well are ya just gonna stand there or are ya gonna greet us?" The raspy voice rhetorically asks. If you weren’t suffering from shock you would’ve made the smart choice and walked over to them but you physically couldn’t move. Your body feels like a leaf struggling to fight the wind

— the trembling exuding from your nerves being unstoppable. “Aww she’s scared! We can’t just leave her like that.” The one who’s slightly taller says.

“Yeah,you’re right. Let’s make this easier for her.” The pair walk over to you and there’s so much tension. So much fearful curiosity on what’s going to happen to you. “P-Please…” That’s all you can mutter. Just please. Please what? Please don’t murder me? Please don’t hurt me? You don’t know what you’re asking for but you just wanted to stop whatever’s happening to you.

“ Josuke’s she’s pleading,I feel bad.” Josuke? Your Josuke? There’s no way you heard that right. A hard swat is heard,a harsh impact landing on the male’s arm. “Ya idiot! She was supposed to know after we were done! Fuck,you just ruined our plan.” The man you call a friend,the man who’s comforted you from Ghostface …is the one disturbing Morioh.

You want to be pissed,want to yell and scream and tell them what sick bastards they are. They only thing you can manage is a broken sob fleeing from your body. Hot tears soak your cheeks, the constant moisture never leaving. You can’t even bear to stand anymore,your knees giving out on hard wooden floor.

“Why?! Josuke,how could you?! Okuyasu why?! Just why?!” You cradle your hands in your face and just sob,letting snot and salty tears build up on the skin. Hard heavy boots stomp their way to your form and a gloved hand forces you to look up at a screaming mask.

“Don’t go pitying yourself. You should be thankful we did all this for you—because we love you. Don’t you realize how lucky you are to have two people so in love with you?” By now Josuke’s taken off his mask,allowing you to stare at his crazed expression. Okuyasu joins in,his bare face shown to you too,”Yeah! Me and Josuke are just doing this because we love ya! So just be a good girl like last night and everything should be good,m’kay?”

“You love me..YOU LOVE ME?!” You voice trembles with a mixture of rage and betrayal. “How can you even claim to love me when you hurt my community?! How do you even have the audacity to say such a thing when you’ve lied and manipulated me?! You two bastards are sick!” You’re about to stand up before Josuke’s strong hand shoots out and pushes your head down with a insane amount of strength.

“You’ve always been stubborn (Reader)…but if ya can’t see what we’re trying to do for you then fine. I didn’t want to be so rough with ya…only wanted to scare ya a bit and then fuck your poor little brains out but since you wanna be a bitch though we’ll do it the hard way.” Effortlessly,so easily he scoops you up and hauls you over his shoulder. You hang over his muscular back and scratch your dull nails through the fabric. It doesn’t seem to be effective and only manages to piss him off because he roughly spanks your slightly exposed bottom.

“Behave.” He warns. You whine at the impact but stop your physical protest. “Okuyasu go get the rope,she won’t stay still.” Chills crawl down your spine the moment he utters that and so…casually too. “Right.” Okuyasu stops following you two and goes back downstairs.

Josuke takes you to your room and plops you on the bed. You attempt to force out all the hatred and betrayal and..sadness you feel once you look at him in face again. He chuckles at that,seemingly amused by it. “You can never be mad at us—at me,you’ve always had such a soft spot for me and Okuyasu. So just accept whatever we give you,yeah?”

With that he pushes you flat on your back onto the springy mattress,his big hand cradling your wrists as he straddles you. He pulls something from his pants and once you see the reflective glimmer of a cool metal your chest starts racing up and down. “What’re you do—“ His gloved fingers mush your lips shut. “Shhh..just let me do it.”

He brings the knife down to your thin cotton tank top,the tip of the jagged knife circling your hardened nipple. “No bra?” He smugly asks. “Were you waiting for me and ‘Oku to ruin ya’re cunt?” You shake your head no and he chuckles. “What do that little phone call I gave you yesterday didn’t have ya pacing in excitement? Didn’t have your pretty fuckin cunt clenching around nothin?”

You ignore him yet he’s still amused. “It’s okay,sweet thing you don’t have to lie to me. I know how your body feels.” He continues his gestures,making sure the cool blade nips at your erect nipples. A small whine falls from your lips at the cold contact—sounds are pulled from you by the attention on your bare breasts. “Shit ya sound so good,ya know that? Fuck needa see your pretty titties.”

He quickly cuts open your shirt with the weapon,not caring about how dangerous the swift motions are. Josuke practically drools once he his dilated pupils lock onto your chest and tummy. “Fuck,Okuyasu better hurry up before I take you for myself…” His veiny hands grip the pillowy flesh rested on your chest,his flat finger nails digging into you.

Okuyasu comes barging into the room with a coil of rope and a cam recorder. “Noo you started without me!” He impatiently sets the items onto the bed and rushes over to hover over you. His eyes light up like a little kid in a candy shop once he lays eyes on you. “Ya’re so fuckin gorgeous (Reader)!” Impulsively his hand reaches over to touch your boobs,not even bothered by the fact that Josuke’s hands are over them.

“ Josuke move your hands,I wanna feel.” He complains. “Whatever…” He arises from his straddling position and walks over to the other side of the bed. Happily Okuyasu takes his spot and hops over your laying body. His face dives into your chest and whatever he’s doing feels so unbelievably nice. He suckles like a baby being nursed on your exposed nipples,rotating from your left to right one. He mushes and massages eagerly,loving the way you feel.

“You taste…so fucking good! I wanna know what that pretty cunt tastes like!” He pops off your tits so crudely but you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can even get out is small whimpers and grips on his hair. “Yeah,Okuyasu eat her cunt! I’ve been thinking about that since I called her. It’s so fuckin fat Okuyasu…and her little clit just throbs whenever you give it any attention.”

“Shit really? You’re a real lucky bastard Josuke,gettin to see her cummin on her fingers.” Josuke chuckles,”I think you’re the lucky one,you’re the one who gets to taste it first.” Okuyasu doesn’t argue that so he hastily pulls down your shorts and panties. “Spread your legs,baby.”

You do as he says,allowing him to slide off your clothes. He quickly slides down your body,making his way to your cunt. He pushes your thighs apart and whistles an appreciative tune. “Mmm..you weren’t lying,her pussy’s so pretty.” Without any warning he nudges his nose against your clit. Affectionately teasing the throbbing button.

He spreads apart your pussy lips even separating your thick pubic hair that’s stuck to the moisture of your cunt. He dives in with zero hesitation,wrapping his mouth around your hammering clitoris. You writhe and moan at his attentive behavior—everywhere,his tongue felt everywhere.

It felt like you couldn’t catch a break, every few minutes you were gasping and moaning,arching your back away from the bed. Okuyasu spits down your pussy as he sits up to look at you. “You look so fuckin cute. Josuke you gotta film this…look at her face—fuck I got so much pre cause of it.” He immerses himself back in between your legs this time scissoring two of his fingers into your accommodating walls.

His free hand clenches the hanging fat above your cunt,the harder he licks the more his grip becomes more rough. “Look at me,sweet thing..Look at the camera.” Josuke points the camera down at you with one hand,the other rubbing a painful looking bulge fighting against the fabric of his pants. You whine and whimper,” Y-Yasu! Don’t stop!”

Your encouragement only makes the tongue in between your legs move more passionately. It feels so good! So good! So good,that you can’t fight back the cascading tears falling from your eyes. “Shit—you feel so good that ya’re crying,baby? Yeah? You like Oku’s tongue on your sweet cunt?” The male leans down and lick away the salty tasting liquid from you plush cheeks. “Mmm..just everything tastes good about you.”

“Aaah! ��Gnna cum! G’nna cum!” Slur after slur Okuyasu continues his aggressive attack on your sensitive pussy. You push away from his mouth,using your hands to uproot you from your place on your back however you’re met with big hands digging into the flesh of your wide hips. “Nu uh,don’t move away from him! You’re interrupting his meal. We can’t let ya do that…” Josuke sets the camera down onto bedside table and reaches for the discarded rope.

He swiftly bounds you by your wrists and softly pushes you back onto the bed. “Now be a good girl and take it!” He exclaims. By then Okuyasu seems to have found a special spot that would take you over the brink of pleasure. He curls his digits against the mushy spot and a loud hysterical scream falls from your lips.

You see black spots taking over your vision. You can’t hear anything,can’t even see,a mind numbing orgasm taking over all senses.

You’re so incoherent that you don’t even know how you’re sprawled out on your hands and knees. “Ya’re gonna take this dick,doll? Hmm,you want this fat cock hitting ya cervix?”

You look behind you and find Josuke positioned behind you.

“W-What??” Okuyasu hushes you by pushing the tip of his pre cum covered head against your lips. “Just enjoy it,doll face..Just enjoy it.” Is all you hear before the tip of his mouth enters your mouth.

You mumble around his tip right before Josuke mercilessly thrusts inside of your cunt. Your lips pop off Okuyasu’s tip in a surprised moan. “ Gentle! Be gentle! Fuck—omg!” Your moan against Okuyasu’s inner thigh,the toll of Josuke’s rough treatment becoming more obvious.

“C’mon baby,don’t ignore me! I need you…” Okuyasu whines. He nudges your mouth to his once more and this time you’re ready for it. You curl your tongue around the expanse of his shaft. You set a constant motion,bobbing your head halfway down his cock and jerking off what you can’t fit in your mouth.

Josuke seems to like the pace you’ve set and gyrates his hips into you each time you pull away from Okuyasu’s dick. In and out,in and out,that’s all you can think—feel about. It’s so euphoric,feels so new. Each time Okuyasu’s thick cock burns the back of your throat,Josuke’s cock deliciously drags against your clamping walls.

The man behind you has a death grip onto the fat of you wealthy hips. “Fuck,I’m gonna cum in this pussy! Gonna claim this pussy as mine! Shit!” His labored breath quickens the deeper and deeper he goes into you.

Okuyasu groans and forces your head further down his cock. You gag and grip the sheets as your back of your throat is constantly touched by his oozing tip. It’s too much! It’s too much to have them both focusing you on you at the same time.

You try to pull away to express the intense overstimulation you’re facing but a rough hand keeps you still. But what really sends you over the edge is when you feel two fingers reaching over you and circling your clit. “Mmhm! You’re so good,baby! Taking me so well!” Okuyasu compliments.

Josuke groans and mutter babbles of praises. It’s a mantra of noises,diluting the idea of time for you. You’re not sure if it’s been hours,minutes or mere seconds.

But still you find yourself so close to the brink of sweet paradise. “Such. A. Perfect. Fucking.Cunt.” Each word is emphasized with a balls deep thrust. You moan on Okuyasu’s cock,gripping the sheets underneath you.

You’re so close,so close! You could feel your orgasm creeping up on you! “Mmmf!” A shocked whimper is muffled by white hot liquid overflowing in your mouth. You don’t even have to process it before Josuke tightens his grip on you and mounts you like a animal in rut.

“Shit m’ gonna cum in ya! Want ya cunt to take every single drop!” He groans and leans against you,punching your cervix with the head of his fat cock. That’s when you can’t hold it anymore and you slump forward,finally letting go of Okuyasu’s member from your oral hold.

Josuke fucks you throughout your orgasm,every single thrust paired with filthy words. Finally at his last thrust his hips still as he releases a huge load into you. He huffs and huffs against your back,Okuyasu mimicking his actions as well.

And you can barely keep your eyes open—the vision offered to you being slowly whisked away. From then your whole surroundings disappear and everything doesn’t exist anymore…

Not even the fact that Morioh’s killers made you theirs…

Reblogs are greatly appreciated! So are comments!<3

[mydearesthrry]

book (lovers) - h.s.

a/n: okay i know ive said this about everything ive written but this one takes the cake for being so self indulgent its actually insane. excerpt she reads is from page 425 of ‘kiss the sky’ by kb ritchie :)) enjoy my loves, this is one of my favorite things ive written. oh also this is severely corny LMFAO

Splayed across the couch, she rested her head against the armrest while her feet lay idle in Harry’s lap, chin downturned as she read the book that dangled above her face, fingers softly tapping against the front and back covers. It was Sunday, and a big part of their ‘weekly reset’ as they liked to call it, entailed a full house clean, and while the dishwasher ran and the clothes were in the washer and dryer, they would read a little bit of their respective books.

However, what never failed to make people laugh, including Harry’s fans, was how drastic of a change their books would be in genre. How Harry would carry around an early century poetry book, while his girlfriend would carry around an annotated copy of a romance book, flashy tabs sticking out of the edges and all. It was always a conversation starter when they would go to cafes, and they would even try to switch books— which never failed to make Y/N laugh at the way Harry scrunched up his nose at the vulgar language on the pages. He almost always asked to switch their books when she ended up on a smut scene. Just his luck, he guesses.

“Switch?” Harry murmured, eyes looking up from his Bukowski book, seeing his sweet girlfriend peek her eyes up from hers.

“Um,” She said quietly, almost mouse-like. “Can we… I just, um, I just got to— a good part?”

“A good pa- oh.” Harry hummed, brows scrunched in confusion until he realized what she meant. “Uh… how about 5 more minutes? Give y’a bit of a head start right now if y’speed read?”

“Yes! Okay, going.” She smiled, eyes trailing back toward her book, flipping through the pages every 30-45 seconds, knowing she was now in a time crunch.

Harry watched in admiration as she grasped her book with one hand, fanning out toward the living room, her face now fully visible to him. He admired the way her brows would scrunch every so often, or how she picked up the habit of pinching her bottom lip between her fingers in concentration like he did. Or how her brows would furrow, and how she would blink the slightest bit faster when she found something cute, as if she was trying to paint a picture in her head without closing her eyes, finding the smallest reprieve in the semi-regular darkness.

She was his own personal jar of perfection. Of sunshine, of love, of happiness. She saved him. In every way a person can be saved.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she grinned with finality, sitting up to meet him halfway, knees hitting the side of his thigh as she held her book out, thumb in place of her spot. He smiled as she shook him right out of his thoughts, a serene glimmer in his eyes, heart nearly falling out of his chest in pure awe. Awe that someone could love him this much, and awe that he could love somebody this much.

This feeling almost felt beyond him.

“C’mere, actually. Lemme read t’you.” He smiled, pulling her into his lap, adjusting her so she rested against the crook of his arm and on the armrest. Clearing his throat, he began reading the first line of the new chapter in her book, pulling her closer every time she would swoon quietly, so quietly, it almost sounded like a bubble in her throat.

Eventually, she takes over, giving him a chance to rest his voice. She croons the words softly, the utmost intimacy permeating the room as she reads the words of of the ivory colored page, committing the inked words to memory.

Breathing softly, her voice light and her hand on Harry’s which rested on her stomach, she read, “‘I realize, in this very moment, that love was the only thing missing from my life. And it’s the only thing that matters to me.’”

“Tha’s so me.” Harry states, making Y/N lift her head up from his chest.

“What?” She guffaws, laughs bubbling from her chest. “Oh my god, I’ve turned you into me.”

“Wha’ d’you mean?” He says confused.

“Never in my entire time of knowing you, Harry Styles, have you ever said ‘that’s so me’. I’m literally turning you into a carbon copy of me. Day by day, baby.” She grins, book face down on the couch so she can talk to him and keep her spot.

“Umm,” He giggles. “Well, y’kinda take up… like… 90 percent of my life. So, I was bound t’pick up your silly lingo.”

“Sure, baby. But, yeah- I agree. Love— our love, really, is one of the only things that matter to me. In a different universe, if I didn’t have this… if I didn’t have you? I think I would be so lost right now.”

“And in every single universe,” he whispers, pecking a soft kiss to her lips. “I will always find you. My perfect Sunny girl.”

[spidernuggets]

As someone who wants to read books and novels, whether it be classics, romance, action, horror, etc, but has a difficult time doing so because it takes a long while to do so; to read the whole sentence without misreading anything and then processing what the sentence is implying, and gets so frustrating all the time, I absolutely adore people who make headcanons that Jason Todd reads to you!!!

So I present

Jason Todd Reading to You HCs/Reader who Struggles with Reading

(Starts with Reader who struggles w reading and regular Jason reading to you HCs begin after the border)

Before it became a habit of Jason reading to you, he always rambled about the new books he has been reading.

He's always either adoring the writing or complaining about love triangles or is intrigued by the plot or questions a character's decisions.

And his rants make you interested, and soon enough, you ask more questions based on whatever he is talking about.

He opens certain pages, pointing to a quote or paragraph, and then showing you hus annotations to the side.

I think Jason would either a) have 2 copies of a book. 1 softback for annotations and 1 hardback for a clean copy. Or b) a clean hardback book and a notebook marked with the book title, the date he read it, and the chapter and page that he's referencing his thoughts from.

Seeing as you're so interested in his thoughts, he recommended you some classics he thought you might curious about.

You're excited, happy that your boyfriend is opening up his nerdy, literature side to you, and you promised him you'd finish the book as soon as possible.

But when you cracked open the clean hardback- the copy of Little Women that he wouldn't let anyone touch, your heart started racing.

You barely finished chapter one in three days. And when Jason asked during the day how it was going, you lied, saying it was great so far. This caused Jason to be suspicious as your reaction was far more bland than how you'd react when he was telling the basis of the story.

So when you claimed that you had finished it, he asked for your opinion. And when you did tell him what you thought of it, he thought that your answers sounded very familiar. And he realised that what you're saying was paraphrased from his annotations.

He laughed, telling you that you don't have to agree with his opinion. But when you didn't laugh back or state your own thoughts, he grew concerned.

You admitted that you only read the first chapter, and he said it was fine and to take as long as you needed since everyone reads at a different pace. But you shook your head, telling him that it could take you your whole lifetime to finish reading one book.

You sat with him, explaining that you find it difficult to read, that it takes you time to understand what the story is telling and what it's describing.

Jason thinks for a moment, and during this, you think that he now sees you as unintelligent and slow.

But he speaks up, offering the idea of reading to you instead. He noticed that you obtain information better when it's being spoken to you. You remember all the little details of the book when Jason went on his long rants about it.

But you tried to quickly turn down the offer, saying that you don't want him to baby you.

But he kisses your forhead in reassurance, promising that he's not babying you. Telling you that he's happy to read to you. Ecstatic even.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jason are wrapped in a not too thick, not too thin blanket. You're sitting upright, Jason's leaning against the headboard as you lay on his chest.

He's got the clean copy open instead of his annotated one, so you have the freedom of developing your own outlooks on the novel as his finger glides across the sentences.

He lets you interrupt him every time you have a point to make or an outbirst reaction to a plot twist or unexpected scene.

He keeps those reactions in mind, remembering to pull out a new notebook, marking the pages with the book title, the date he read it to you, and the chapter and page that you referenced your thoughts from.

You hate to stop reading before the end of a chapter, so you try to stay awake as much as possible until Jason finishes the cirrent chapter, no matter how spft and soothing his voice is.

Your favourite part of your day is waiting for Jason to come home from patrol, sitting patiently on your shared bed, with the book on your lap while you watch the movie or show adaptation of the novel.

And when Jason does come home, he rolls his eyes, shutting the screen that's playing the film, scolding you that the book is way better.

He tells you to sit tight while he quickly changes out of his gear, putting on sweatpants and staying shirtless before scooching you over and sliding into bed beside you.

He takes the book from you, opening to where the bookmark laid- the last chapter you finished before continuing on with the story.

And when Jason finishes off another chapter, he notices you sound asleep.

He softly kisses your cheeks, forhead, then lips, bookmarking the book once more, before adjusting the two of you in a more comfortable position and holding you in his arms, whispering to you that you'll continue in the morning, before falling asleep with you.

[literaryfandomangel]

The Lost Boys The Promise

Chapter One

Moving to Santa Carla, California, had been too stressful for Mom. Following the curtails of her divorce, where Dad took everything, Mom had to uproot us back to her old home. Dad didn't want us; he had shouted when the divorce papers had been served. He didn't want to have to deal with a crazy, ill daughter or a son who read comics all day long. I remember feeling as if my heart had just stopped beating after being stabbed with a knife. 

My dad had some choice words for my mother, too. By the time my father had read through the divorce paperwork, my Mom had dissolved into tears. Sam had crept into my room, trying to appear older and rougher than breaking into his own tears. I had welcomed my brother into bed, flipping down the light coverlet for him to crawl under. 

Sam had hugged my stuffed animal, face buried in the soft fur until the screaming stopped. Usually, I would have sung to my little brother to help him sleep, but with the divorce, the fighting, and my own personal issues, I'd start withdrawing. Which meant not even speaking. 

The school had ended by the time the paperwork had been signed and settled. Sam gave Mom grief about moving to her hometown, but I said nothing. There wasn't anything left for me in Phoenix - my toxic relationship had ended badly. I touched the lightening bruise on the side of my face in memory. I didn't have any friends, and now Mom had divorced Dad. 

I felt hopeful that Santa Carla would be a better place. Something deep inside me yearned for the sandy beach, the hot summer sun, and the scent of saltwater in the air. I could faintly remember the summers spent in the town; Dad always griped about coming to Mom's hometown. Our summers spent in Santa Carla were few. 

Sam grumbled for most of the ride. I was content to let my brother sit in the front seat while my Mom tried to ease the growing tension rising with every mile closer to Santa Carla. I didn't bother to protest - not wanting to spend one more minute in Phoenix. I didn't want to be any closer to my paternal figure than I had to be. Sam was popular. He wore designer clothing and had a lot of friends in Phoenix, even though he was a comic nerd. 

"Honey, you need to eat something," My Mom's eyes found mine in the rearview mirror. I sighed granola bar in hand. I had picked each piece of oats off the bar for two hours. "Please just eat the granola bar."

"I'll eat it!" Sam reached back and snatched the granola bar from my hand. Before Mom could protest or reprimand my brother for taking my food, he had it half-crammed into his mouth. My stomach turned with disgust at seeing his bulging cheeks and flecks of chewed food on his lips. "Mmm!" 

I just sighed and returned to gazing out onto the landscape. I could hear the seagulls becoming louder, indicating we were closer to Santa Carla and the sea. Mom wanted to say something else about my food situation but turned her attention to my brother as they messed with the radio. 

For the past three years, my parents have struggled with my eating disorder. I didn't want to eat anything at all. My dad tried to ship me off to an inpatient facility, but they released me after I didn't gain any of the much-needed weight back. 

Nanook, my brother's husky, set her head on my lap, offering warmth and protection. I reached down and pulled a copy of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina out of my bag. I knew it would be at least another hour before we reached Grandpa's place in Santa Carla. 

"We are stopping!" Mom announced loudly, startling me. I was engrossed in the pages of Russian literature, the illicit affair between Anna and Vronsky. I jumped, the sharp tone of my mother's voice cutting through the scenes playing out in my head as I read. 

I grabbed the discarded ribbon across my thin thigh and pressed it between the book's pages. I always needed to find my bookmarks; therefore, I would use any material to track my progress. Mom pulled into a gas station parking lot, needing to fill the car's tank. 

"I'm taking Nanook to potty!" Sam yelled, jumping out of the front seat. He grabbed his dog's leash and then took her across the lot. I watched as my brother had no qualms about walking past all the people. 

I blinked as I took in the people milling about us. My Mom was busy putting gas in the tank, so I just gazed at those passing by. All the individuals were bright - and colorful. It differed from what I was used to in Phoenix, but it made sense with my Mom's aesthetic. She loved colorful clothing and gauzy skirts. 

Looking around, I saw that everyone was different but fit together. There were women clad in bikinis, roller skating down the sidewalks, and goth kids covered from head to toe in black. Homeless kids in worn layers, alongside surfer guys in wetsuits, carting around surfboards. It was astonishing to see all these individuals walking beside one another. 

They wouldn't be in the same vicinity as their counterparts in any other town. People of the same cliques and gangs would stick together, not daring to break into another group. 

However, as I stood there, gazing around at the people, I felt a seed of jealousy take root deep within my soul. It might have been the heat of the sun, but the hot feeling radiated from within my body as I looked around. These people felt comfortable enough to express themselves through their outfits and appearance. They weren't afraid to show their originality - some had numerous piercings, colored hair, and weird hairstyles. Even their tattoos and clothing - or lack thereof - demonstrated that they weren't shying away from their individuality. 

"Honey," my Mom's soft voice brought me out of my musing as I leaned against the back of the Range Rover. "Can you go give those two this money?" I looked to where my Mom was indicating, pulling my cardigan closer. I saw two teenagers around a dumpster, looking for food scraps in the trash bags. I took the proffered money from my mother's hand and walked towards them. The two gave me a slight, grateful grin before snatching the money and disappearing. 

Sam had finished letting Nanook stretch her legs and came across the parking lot towards us. I slid into the backseat, not bothering to fight Sam about the passenger seat. There was no use - I wouldn't argue or talk with him. Sam let Nanook climb in with me, unclipping the leash before shutting the back door. 

"Mom!" Sam was excited about something he had seen on his travels. "Did you know there's an amusement park on the beach?"

"That's called the boardwalk, sweetheart," Mom educated the both of us. I just raised an eyebrow in question. My Mom seemed to be more excited about the boardwalk than Sam. "We will go to the boardwalk tonight. Unless, Aria, do you want to go look?"

"That's not fair!" Sam crowed, spinning around to glare at me. "Why does she get to go?"

"Because she's older, Sam," Mom tried to allay his upset. I just shook my head, knowing Mom saw it in the rearview mirror. "Okay. Then we'll all go tonight."

I thought that Grandpa's house would be closer to town, but it was a few miles outside of the main attraction in Santa Carla. I didn't bother to pull out Anna Karenina again; I just gazed out the window. Mom eventually pulled off the city streets onto an unmarked and unpaved road. A cloud of dust, comprised of the dirt making the lane, billowed behind the car. Mom pulled into the driveway, which was lined with wood chips. Sam was looking in horror at the house. 

The decor and house were attractive. It looked like an old log cabin converted into a modern-sized dwelling. Grandpa obviously had a knack and talent for wood carving, as many of his projects littered the yard. There were several small trailers, and wind chimes around the lawn. I actually liked the feel of the house. 

Exiting the car, I noticed the paddock with at least three horses. They were grazing on the lush, green grass growing, tails lazily swishing in the wind. I could smell the scent of sharp manure and the salty breeze from the sea. 

"Grandpa has horses?" I asked, breaking my silent streak. My voice was husky from misuse. My Mom and brother looked at me, amazed that I had spoken. 

"Yes," my Mom smiled, happy I had spoken for the first time in several days. I nodded, not saying another word. I looked towards the house entrance that we would call home, noticing the figure of a man lying on the porch. 

My face paled, immediately assuming the worst. Sam and my Mom went to investigate the situation, but I stayed by the car. I didn't want to walk onto the scene to find my grandfather dead of a heart attack. 

"Honey, he's just a deep sleeper!" My Mom tried to settle my nerves with a gentle smile. She waved her hand to make me come over and join the trio on the porch. I sucked in a deep lungful of the salty air before walking across the yard towards the porch. 

"If he's dead, can we move back to Phoenix?" Sam asked, causing my Mom and I to glare at him. He shrunk back as Grandpa opened his eyes and moved. 

"Playin' dead!" Grandpa's innate masculine voice filled the air. It was a relief to hear his voice, knowing that he wasn't dead. I turned to look down at the man with whom we would live for the unforeseeable future. "And from what I heard, doin' a damn good job of it."

My Mom chuckled as she leaned down to hug her father. I can imagine it would be a relief to be comforted by one's parents, especially as Grandma had died when Mom was just a preteen. Her dad was her rock, someone Mom could depend upon in life. 

Sam looked weirded out by the situation, but I wordlessly motioned we should return to the car. We had little to move since Dad got everything in the settlement. Mom had wanted the divorce over and done with, so she took the lowest agreement with Dad. Even though Mom could have won more in the divorce since she was taking care of Dad’s two kids, she just signed the paperwork.  Chapter Two

[cicerfics]

31 and 42 for Bond or Q please 💜

31. If they had a tumblr what would it look like?

Q: A comprehensive list of 'tech doesn't work like that!!' moments from mainstream media, along with EXHAUSTIVE explanations of why this particular Hollywood scene is TOTALLY impossible/implausible.

Bond: ~Vibes~. Aesthetic blogger. Artsy shots of different locations around the world. Nature pictures. Beautiful sunsets and birds soaring majestically over the ocean. Zero text.

42. 3 comfort items

Q:

-A threadbare stuffed cat that he's had since childhood. Shh. Don't tell! Bond only gets to meet this cat after they've been dating for like six months, and Q preemptively tells Bond that if he makes any jokes about it, he (Bond) will be exiled to the couch for the next 6-8 business weeks.

-Some type of leaf collection Q made as a child. It was probably a school project. Students were asked to collect like 20 different leaves, press them, and label them. Q did 100 different types of leaves, and wrote detailed descriptions underneath about the genus, the tree's role in their biome, etc. etc. He put sooo much effort into it. Too much, probably. The teacher was like, "Haha, maybe calm down a little? Meanwhile, I probably need to speak to the headmaster about skipping you ahead a few more grades??" The other kids probably made fun of Q for being a tryhard. Q didn't care! He loved collecting those leaves and making his little booklet!! He's still proud of it!!

-A photo album containing pictures of every pet he's ever had. Per my animal-rescuer-Q headcanons, he's had at least 15. Most have since passed on to the other side, but Q still treasures his memories and pages through the photo album very often.

Bonus: A postcard Bond sent him once, ages ago. He'd been flirting with Q outrageously, right before heading off on a mission. Q rolled his eyes and firmly turned him down. Bond pouted. Q cited regulations. Bond argued that life was short (especially his!) and Q was being really dumb by refusing to let Bond take him to bed, just because of some nonsensical MI6 rules. Q argued that insults to his intelligence were not the most compelling prelude to a seduction he'd ever heard, and for heaven's sake, hadn't Bond ever considered poetry? Bond made a joke about blunt instruments (wink wink!) and said he didn't know any poetry anyway. He went off on his mission. But a week after he left, Q got a postcard from Bond. It was a painting of a huge, glorious sun. On the back, Bond had copied out some verses (including the last few lines!) from To His Coy Mistress.

Bond:

-An old arithmetic textbook published in the 1940s. It belonged to his father, and he used it to teach tiny!James math. Bond can still smell his father's cologne whenever he so much as looks at that book.

-His father's straight razor.

-His oldest and most decrepit pullover which is soooo comfy and broken in exactly right.

Bonus: A tiny origami frog. Once, Bond woke up in Medical (horribly injured and after being unconscious for nearly 24 hours) and found Q sitting beside his bed. Q had turned to origami to self-soothe, and he had feverishly created a menagerie of tiny animals while he sat vigil at Bond's bedside. Q quickly swept all the animals away when he saw Bond was awake, but Bond stole one. He keeps it safely tucked away in his flat (even though he'd like to carry it with him as a talisman), just for the reminder that somebody cares about him enough to sit at his bedside.

[stevesnightmares]

I just re-read the captive prince trilogy after 9 years so here are some thoughts and observations (I read a physical copy while listening to the audiobbok):

No spoilers

the books are super easy to read, I read each of them in a day and never once did I get bored or felt like I needed to take a break. If you enjoy them I feel like they work perfectly if you are in a reading slump.

I might be biased because I was also listening to it while reading but I feel like the writing worked just fine. I saw people say that the writing was awful but I didn't have any problems at all with it. I was never once confused by what was happening on page nor did I ever feel like too little or too much was being said and described.

One of my gripes with the writing comes in book 3 because I felt like the two parts that had Laurent POV just didn't work because it didn't feel like it was a stylistic choice and it didn't feel natural or needed, it just made me think that the author didn't know how to write that from Demen POV (which makes no sense because I know she can)

not only that but I also feel like it would've worked much better if we didn't get those scenes and continued with Demen's knowledge instead of making us privy to something he didn't know. I genuinely think they were unnecessary.

I might've missed something but in book 3 there is also a part where I felt like what Demen is thinking in a chapter and then what he claims and thinks a few chapters later don't align. With no spoilers, this is how it felt to me: chapter 1: demen thoughts: the apple fell from the tree chapter 3: demen thoughts and words: I knew the apple didn't fall on it's own and that there was a reason for it to fall.

I don't know why people say that these books handle its dark themes badly. Personally I think it handled everything quite well. Just because every 3 seconds the author isn't telling you "this is bad" it doesn't mean that it's poorly done or supports any of the bad things that happen.

The characters live in extremely flawed societies that have practices that we wouldn't condemn, so of course they will not immediately start out being against them, it wouldn't make sense, instead throughout the books and events they slowly start to realise why some things are bad. It's called character development.

Not only that, words coming out of a flawed and traumatised character shouldn't be taken as the moral of the book but as what they are: words of a flawed and traumatised character who is lashing out.

I feel like many people saw that very bad things that happen in these books and instrad of saying "I can't read that", which is fair, they decided to take the high horse and act as if it's morally wrong to like these books because bad things are portrayed in them.

Book 2 I think was my favourite, I devoured it and it was just super fun to read.

My second gripe is with Jokaste but without spoiling anything I can only say that her character was imo wasted and that it just felt like the author had 2 very different ideas of who she was in book 1 and book 3.

I LOVE laurent, he's just the type of characters that I enjoy, cold and guarded on the outside but only because he wants to protect himself while being also sweet.

Also really enjoyed many of the side characteristics which I thought were really interesting (I would've enjoyed more interactions between those other characteristics and L and D but that's a personal taste)

I actually think that 9 years ago I only read the first book and the first half of the second while skimming through the rest lmao

also I will not tell you which character I didn't like at all and found annoying when I was 16 but would die for in an instant now because you'll think 16 years old me was psychopath because what the fuck

[mommieswithmuscles]

Photographer!Abby x Scrapbooker!Reader

Free Palestine, don't support Neil

No minors and No men

CW: fluff, angst, no smut but it has a suggestive scene, insecure!reader, mention of suicidal tendencies

Based on this song:

Title: No Flash Photography

You're at the dinner table, going through photos Abby had printed out. She reprinted everything so you could have a copy to put in the ever growing scrapbook you have yet to properly bind.

Each bin she gave you had a title so you could organize better. Nature, gatherings, events, us, and polaroids. You start with the one called nature.

You trim the edges with scissors before securing them in the special photo paper with bug stickers. The dual page is a collage of your trip to a national park. It's mostly shrubbery, plants, trees, and water, but there are some animals and insects sprinkled in.

You turn the page and make another collage out of the open space, both sides decorated with a yarn trim. Gatherings weren't really your thing, but Abby liked them, and you obviously like Abby, so you go to each one. You admire how she always brings her big camera.

The next collage is your brother's wedding. Him and his partner are dressed accordingly. You wore basic attire, Abby wore a plain suit. "When are you both getting married?" He had asked after Abby's camera shot the photo.

"Eventually," Abby answered for you both. You nodded in agreement. You knew you underdressed to match the other guests, but you couldn't help but feel you're taking away from the newlyweds. Abby caught onto your dismissive behavior and took you home early.

Shaking your head to clear out the memory, you continue to dig through the bin and retrieve more pictures. A few birthday parties, a couple engagement parties, some random game nights. You secure them with glitter glue, putting more of the colorful yarn around the trims like LEDs.

Pictures of you always have to have Abby. Otherwise you want nothing to do with them and tend to throw them away. Abby's trying to help you with your insecurity, but for some reason you can't work past it. You sigh, pulling out ones you convince yourself you like. Mostly dates, but a few random ones from trips catch your attention, so you add them. The pictures are secured with affirmation stickers that Abby bought you a few months back, when you first started scrapbooking.

The bin you were most nervous for was polaroids. You know they're mostly you, and you know they make Abby happy, but... you get upset every time you look at pictures of yourself.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Abby sits next to you, done with her work for the week. She came out of her office as soon as she was able to. Her hand cups your cheek, thumb ready to swipe away the unshed tears.

"I can't do it. I fucking- I can't, Abby. It's too hard." You kick the bin.

"Why don't I help you?" She presses her lips to your forehead. "We can start with holidays. Would that work?"

"Do it yourself," you bite.

"Don't start that. I know you're upset. I know these make you upset-"

"So why do you make me look at them? I told you that you could keep them, and now-" you gesture to the bin. "We don't need to share everything, especially not these."

"I make you look at them because I'm trying to show you what I see." She's patient. Too patient. Maybe if she could ever be mad at you, or fight with you instead of talk things out, maybe it would hurt less.

The thoughts start to spiral before you can stop them. All of the self worth and self esteem you had built towards crumbling in seconds. And there's Abby, taking care of you because you can't handle something as stupid as putting pictures in a book. Maybe you were better off-

"Eyes on me baby," her voice is gentle. Her hands guide you to face her, thumbs taking away the tears trailing down your cheeks. "That's my girl," she whispers. "You're so kind, and beautiful, and I love you more than anything. I'm glad you came into my life because you're the compass to my map. I wouldn't have it any other way. I've never been more happy than when I've been with you. I married you because you're my person. You're the moon to my stars, the sun for my flowers, and every breath I take with you fills my lungs with fresh air. I know you're in a darker place. And that's ok. We can work you through it step by step." She pulls you into her lap, rubbing your back as you bury yourself in her neck. You can smell your perfume on her. "You're safe, you're loved, you're home." Abby kisses your temple.

After you calm down, Abby lets you go. "Thank you," you sniffle, getting up to grab some tissues.

"Anything for you, my love." You get back to see Abby gluing small, flat, silver tack backs on the polaroids to secure them on the page. It looks like a cork board. Some of the photos are strung on yarn, some singles floating about, and one standing out the most. It's one of you genuinely smiling, tugging Abby along as you make your way to your destination.

"Come on, it's this way!" You had said, nearly dragging Abby through the mud. She's laughing behind you, scooping you up and kissing you once you got to the surprise spot at the creek. She kept her hands under your thighs when your legs wrapped around her waist.

"This view is almost as stunning as you are," Abby said as she put you down.

"Oh hush," you pushed her away lightly. "Ass-kisser."

"No, no, you don't know," she shook her head, voice mocking. She laid with you in the short grass, dirt dry under your backs. You initiated the contact, but she kissed you first, hands traveled along your body until you were gasping for air and begging for her.

"Baby? Where'd you go just now?" Abby's fingers tickle at your jaw as she cups your face.

"Here," you point at the picture you got lost in.

"I'm going to start dinner. Today seems like it was hard for you, and you could use some time away from the pictures for now. You- or we- can start back up soon, ok?"

"Ok," you agree easily. She's right. It's better to take a break, than let something be ruined.

[genericpuff]

Rachel "Retcon" Smythe Strikes Again!

Okay, so I've been seeing pictures of Volume 4 of Lore Olympus floating around, and people are ALREADY FINDING RETCONS.

Most notably so far, some added panels in the Hades and Apollo confrontation that happens outside Artemis' house (when Persephone steals Apollo's lyre) in Episode 81.

This is the original scene, for anyone who needs a refresher:

Aaaand here are the panels that were added.

(all pictures of Volume 4 are courtesy @iwannagutyou on IG!!! thank you for giving me permission to use these! <3)

First of all, the art. It's so noticeably bad. You can tell Rachel has completely lost her ability to draw these characters in the S1 style, I'm fairly certain she took the panel of Hades from the old version and just copy pasted it to try and get around it (look at the posing) but it's incredibly obvious looking at that third panel that LO is not and can never be what it was back in 2017-2019. Those first two panels seem like they were copy pasted from the previous ones, which is just sad if those are the lengths she has to go to to come even close to replicating the older style.

Now, this just might be due to camera translation, it could very well look better IRL, but the colors just look so incredibly desaturated and the lines blurred out, to the point that people are doing double takes over whether or not panels have been directly changed - they haven't been, they've just been so sucked dry of their colors that they look off enough to cast suspicion.

If anything it's a harsh reminder that LO has kinda always had art problems, especially with its lazy humor and stupid meme faces.

Of course, to be fair, color loss can happen in print, but seeing how slapped together these books tend to be, I wouldn't be surprised if they just didn't put in the effort to convert the page art to CMYK or at least tinker with the saturation in editing some more to ensure it would come out more vibrant in print.

Now. Excuse me while I go on a bit of a crackpot rant here. Newbie puff pals beware, because this is gonna get dicey and you're about to learn where my tinfoil-hat rep comes from but I just have to talk about it.

Back to the added Apollo panels, where Persephone asks Hades not to hurt him and he looks nervous before she says "I just want him to leave".

Maybe it's just me, but it's a little weird that THESE are the panels they decided they needed to add. It's weird that she's asking Hades not to hurt Apollo when she's about to break into his car and steal his lyre just a few moments later. It's weird that the implication seems to be that she's referring to Hades' act of violence towards Tori... but Persephone doesn't know that's happened yet. So this feels like an unnecessary retcon that's doing more harm than good.

But I feel like the timing of this is kinda messed up as well, as this book released just days after the release of the last FP episode in which Apollo has his 'side' of the assault story told through his perspective, which is often considered a HUGE no-no in writing assault stories because it often comes with the implication that it's asking for empathy from the audience. We already know Apollo is delusional, we already know he thinks him and Persephone are meant to be despite her constant rejection of him, we didn't need a flashback from his own warped perspective explaining that very thing, the only purpose to do such a thing this late in the game would be to try and get the audience to 'connect' with him (it's giving S3 Bryce from 13 Reasons Why vibes). Now we have this scene of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt him (despite the structure of the episode being literally fine before, this change wasn't needed) getting snuck into the physical book release just a couple days after the newest FP tried to present Apollo in an empathetic light (and let me tell you, that's a whole essay and a half that I'll be getting into eventually).

Shit, if I wanted to get REAL Pepe Sylvia with it, I might say that hypothetically, the whole point of the random Leuce abuse episode - despite Persephone having no way of knowing what she attempted as Hades hadn't told her and she wasn't there to see it and we weren't shown her overhearing them in any way - and the following episode that was mostly padding of Hades and Persephone having sex - no consequences or follow-up whatsoever to the Leuce scene - was just to pad out the episode release schedule and buy time until the book came out so that Rachel could release that Apollo POV episode right before the book came out and revealed those new added scenes of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt Apollo, in what could be a sly artificial attempt at minimizing the SA plot so Rachel can finally just brush aside the one major plot point she regretted writing the most. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Rachel's controlled the pace of her comic to release certain moments at certain times that line up with IRL events.

But, y'know. I'm gonna quit on that thought while I'm ahead because it's probably making my credibility meter drop into the red. My ADHD has been real bad lately and it's really starting to show LMAO All ima say is that IDK who Rachel thinks she's fooling here, this kind of shit is stupid easy to fact check when the digital version of the comic is available online to read.

To end on a much funnier and lighter note, remember how Rachel tried to retcon the Demeter/Hera/Hestia relationship by changing the line "I miss my sisters" to "I miss my friends"? Well, there was one panel that had been missed in the webtoons version that still refers to them as sisters. You can still find this unedited line in Episode 78.

And uh. They forgot to fix it again for the book.

It's permanent now. That's permanent marker. It would have cost them nothing to find this in the webtoon version and fix it before it got sent to the book editors. Now it's gonna cost them thousands because the book editors didn't bother (or know) to check.

There's also this... weird shit going on with the speech bubbles. Like, they're REALLY FUCKING OVERDOING IT with the speech bubble outlines. I don't know who made this choice but it was a bad one. Gross. Don't do that. It looks so cheap.

But let's be real, at this point I feel like the book editors are just outright sabotaging Rachel because who the fuck calls themselves a professional when they do this shit-

Oh, and there's no bonus episode, just sketches. Which is fine. But it makes me chuckle to think that Rachel just didn't have time in her already razor-thin buffer to draw up a new episode to pass off as "cut content".

[richincolor]

Title: Four Eids and a Funeral Author: Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé & Adiba Jaigirdar Genres: Contemporary, Romance Pages: 321 Publisher: Feiwel & Friends Review Copy: Purchased Availability: Available now

Summary: Let’s get one thing straight: this is a love story.

These days, Said Hossain spends most of his time away at boarding school. But when his favorite hometown librarian Ms. Barnes dies, he must return home to New Crosshaven for her funeral and for the summer. Too bad being home makes it a lot harder to avoid facing his ex-best friend, Tiwa Olatunji, or facing the daunting task of telling his Bangladeshi parents that he would rather be an artist than a doctor.

Tiwa doesn’t understand what made Said start ignoring her, but it’s probably that fancy boarding school of his. Though he’s unexpectedly staying through the summer, she’s determined to take a page from him and pretend he doesn’t exist. Besides, she has more than enough going on, between grieving her broken family and helping her mother throw the upcoming Eid celebration at the Islamic Center—a place that means so much to Tiwa.

But when the Islamic Center accidentally catches fire, it turns out the mayor plans to demolish the center entirely. Things are still tense between the ex-friends but Tiwa needs Said’s help if there’s any hope of changing the mayor’s mind, and Said needs a project to submit to art school (unbeknownst to anyone). Will all their efforts be enough to save the Islamic Center, save Eid, and maybe save their relationship?

Review: [There are two deaths that impact this book, both off page: the recent death of an adult from cancer, which puts the plot in motion, and the past death of a child due to a hit-and-run accident. Additionally, Tiwa, who is Black, faces on page racism from within the Muslim community in a few scenes.]

Even though a funeral is what puts the plot in motion, Four Eids and a Funeral is on the lighthearted side of the contemporary romance spectrum. Authors Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé and Adiba Jaigirdar crafted a cute, fast-paced story about childhood friends rebuilding their relationship despite various problems popping up in their community and personal lives. Tiwa and Said have distinct narrative voices, and I appreciated seeing life in New Crosshaven from both their eyes. I especially enjoyed the contrast between Tiwa, who stayed and maintained close ties to the community, and Said, who left and started drifting away.

One of the strengths of Four Eids and a Funeral is the breadth and diversity of the cast. The Muslim community in New Crosshaven is varied; Said is Bangladeshi American, and Tiwa is Nigerian American. Said and Tiwa relate to their community and their religion differently, and Said’s sister, Safiya, has a cute lesbian romance subplot. Tiwa faces some anti-Black racism within the Muslim community, too, and the small-town politics plots highlighted divisions within larger town. New Crosshaven felt like it had life to it, which was no small feat when you’ve got just two POV characters.

On the other hand, I think there were actually a few too many plot threads in this book for its length. There were some things I felt should have gotten far more page time than they did, like Tiwa’s younger brother’s death and what happened to her family afterward. I wanted those events to have more emotional impact on me. The truth behind why Tiwa and Said drifted apart and how they reacted when they uncovered that information was a little disappointing to me as well.

That said, the authors did say right at the start that Four Eids and a Funeral was a love story. I got distracted by my desire for additional drama and tragedy and forgot that the epigraph quoted Much Ado About Nothing. This book is solid craftsmanship with a pair of engaging protagonists, and the bits I was dissatisfied with were largely an expectations mismatch on my part.

Recommendation: If you’re looking for a contemporary romance this summer, you should consider adding Four Eids and a Funeral to your list. Authors Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé and Adiba Jaigirdar created a cute romance about childhood friends reconnecting against the backdrop of vibrant Muslim community.

Extras: Q&A: Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé & Adiba Jaigirdar, Co-Authors of ‘Four Eids and a Funeral’

[corvis-crimson]

Basic Writing Advice

Take everything said with a grain of salt because this is just what I do…not what everyone should do

I’d like to give writing advice to people as someone who has written stories since I could pick up a pencil. However, I’m realizing a lot of my advice may not work for everyone…

Despite this I will be posting this post anyway!

Make your rough draft good enough that spelling and grammar aside…you could feasibly send it out into the world! Then go back and fix things that need fixing!

The best way to know if something needs fixed is to have someone else read it! If they don’t understand what’s going on you need to elaborate more!

If you feel like you’re using too much detail or too many words try using bigger words in place of two to three smaller words!

Act out scenes in your book as you write them and be aware of how you do things! Watch how others do things and emulate that! Study people! It’s the only way to write movement well…

For that first draft focus only on getting it to sound good and flow well! Fix grammar the second time through!

Aim to write ten pages a day then get upset when you don’t do that! Guilt yourself into writing close to ten pages a day until your book is finished! You’ll be upset you keep not reaching your goal that you’ll be determined to reach the ten page mark and by the time you start reaching it your book is almost done! It’s a life hack to completing your book under your own nose!

Dont focus on one project by itself unless you think you can get it out in six months or less (what I did with my first ever book linked in my pinned post)

If you’re a reader like me don’t read any books while you’re writing (I know it’s hard but trust me I got way more done when I wasn’t reading) if you must read at least read something from a different genre!

Write in chronological order and make a bullet point list for your plot chapter by chapter if you must! You can go off path but so long as it you make it to the next bullet point you’re good!

Do not pigeon hole yourself into one genre!! You’ll get bored of it if you don’t challenge yourself!

Write for yourself and don’t be afraid to take inspiration from things! So long as you aren’t copying things word for word and so long as you aren’t stealing characters or plots ITS FINE! It’s great actually!! (Think of it this way…I am a HUGE zombie movie fan and just because there are already a lot of zombie movies out there in the world when a new one comes out I will definitely watch it! Not only will I watch it but I won’t care if it’s similar to another zombie movie I enjoyed!)

Get the words out of your head it doesn’t matter how! If writing scrawled words you can barely read across notebook paper gets them out then do it! Don’t let your story die!

If you let anything sit for over a year and it has less than five pages go ahead and re-write those pages! Start fresh from the beginning because you’ll never be in the mindset you were in when you first wrote it again!

If time was a social construct and the human body could withstand lack of sleep, water, and food…if locked in a cell with nothing else to do but write the ideal thing to do would be to push through and write the entire thing in one setting! Get that shit out of your head before it drives you insane! Since the human body does need sleep, water, and food I suggest writing as much as you physically can before stopping! The only reason I’ve ever finished a book was because I wrote the first twenty or so pages in one sitting!

Re-read your book until the thought of looking at it again gives you a headache! It’s the only way to catch all the mistakes…(side note: when combing through the interior of your book don’t make the mistake of slacking on your cover thinking you are now invincible…you’ll make a mistake)

As your book nears its final chapters go ahead and design the cover! Select a style and a theme to match your books contents! Amazon cover designer has great covers but I recommend taking a photo for your cover! (At a later date I will make a post about cover design etc)

Taking breaks is good but taking longer breaks is bad! Get some water, get some tea, some koolaid, a pitcher of lemonade?! Whatever floats your boat! Set it next to you and when you’re stuck pour a glass and have a drink! I call this “Drink and Think” and something about pouring the drink into the glass and taking a sip helps refresh my brain!

[aadmelioraa]

Hi! I was just wondering, what is the difference for you between the Scrivener categories you use? What makes a certain section redrafted vs revised vs punched up vs polished? Thank you!

Hey!! I am more than happy to elaborate on that post. Here are the scene (or chapter) draft categories I use via the "Label" function in Scrivener, and what each category means to me:

To Write. Any scene that I haven't fully drafted, ranging from an idea in my head to a few bullet points to a scene that doesn't yet have a beginning, middle, and end. Lots of ellipses and all caps notes to myself [ADD CONVERSATION WHERE X AND Y ARGUE ABOUT DINNER PLANS] at this stage. I am a planner-pantser hybrid—I usually start writing without a real outline, and then create and reshape my outline as I continue writing new scenes, the outline evolves as my draft evolves and vice versa. 

Drafted. I have written a full version of the scene. It has a beginning, middle, and end. I have hit all the major points I want to hit. It's messy, but it's on the page. These scenes comprise the Rough Draft.

Redrafted. At this stage, I follow Matt Bell's "Rewrite Don't Revise" advice in Refuse to Be Done (highly recommend this craft book!). Once I have a Rough Draft version of the project (the entire book has a beginning, middle, end, and enough essential connective tissue scenes to prop it up), I print that off* and open a fresh Scrivener file. I hold myself to Matt Bell's no copying and pasting rule, and it's honestly been a game changer mentality for me. I refer to my Rough Draft and my Revision Plan Outline as I create a new draft that is both leaner and more fleshed out as needed. The Revision Plan Outline is the roadmap of the book I wrote (the Rough Draft) spliced with a roadmap of the book I want to write, including new scenes, stronger versions of the scenes I already have, and notes about what needs to be cut. *This is probably obvious, but you don't need to work from a printed copy, you can open your Rough Draft doc side by side with a blank doc if that is more your speed. The important thing is to start with a blank document rather than making revisions to your Rough Draft. It might sound insane, but I've found that it allows me to let go of what I would otherwise struggle to cut, and opens me up creatively to write new material.

Revised. Once I have the fresh, stronger, more intentional version of my scene, I go through and check that it's doing what I need it to do in terms of character work and plot points. It's not only a complete scene in that it begins and ends where I want it to, it's also functioning as part of a whole. 

Punched Up. This is my favorite draft stage in most ways, I just find it really fun and satisfying. My goals are to make sure that the tension is properly threaded, that the emotional beats are landing how and where they need to, that the humor is working, that each character's voice is coming through, that my language is vivid and interesting. 

Polished. Here I am making final cuts and changes, taking things at a line level and evaluating individual word choice. Nitpick city, but ideally in a productive way.

Right now in my current WIP I have an array of scenes at every level in a single Scrivener file. Most of them are Redrafted or above (I already completed a Rough Draft, printed it off, and am working from that and my Revision Plan Outline to create a new version of the book) but there are plenty of scenes in my Revision Plan that didn't exist in the Rough Draft. I will once again shout out @bettsfic and her invaluable developmental insights, you can check out her substack here and read more about her services here.

Anyway, this is what works for me, it definitely won't work for everyone, but hopefully you find something useful here! I will note that you can use the Scrivener "Draft Status" category to function in a similar way as the "Label" category, allowing you to use "Label" to denote POV or something else. Labels are visible in the sidebar (you can find options under "View," and Draft Status shows up in the corkboard view (it's stamped over the notecard for each scene if you select that option).

[duckymcdoorknob]

@mystwrites I TOLD YOU ID MAKE THE FIC TEEHEE!!

INSPIRED BY THIS BEAUTIFUL FREAKING PIECE RIGHT HERE!!!

RARARA MULTIPLE TK SCENES BC YES

Voices Carry

Warning! This is a tickle fic!

Ships: None! Char: Kurama and Hiei with a couple teaspoons of Lee!Yusuke

Warnings: This do have tickles below the cut ngl

Prompt: When the boys get into deep conversation one night, Kurama wants nothing more than for Hiei to shut up before he spills some secrets. Kurama would soon eat his words…

Tags: @giggly-squiggily TEEHEE SURPRISE! THIS IS MY “PAYBACK” FOR THAT LEE HIEI FIC >:))

It was a rare occurrence when the four were together and they actually got to enjoy one another’s company. It seemed that whenever they were in the same room, there was something that was threatening their peace that would happen the next day.

Hiei was sitting on the bed, resting his chin on his arm as he watched the rain fall outside of Yusuke’s bedroom window. Kurama lay with his head in the fire demon’s lap, engrossed in a book. Yusuke was trying to mask his excitement—though failing miserably—as he showed Kuwabara his Lego creations, and the orange-haired boy was carefully holding every set to ensure he wouldn’t break it.

Rain was harshly falling outside, so the other three were not going anywhere for quite some time.

“And this is one that Keiko got for me last year. I still keep asking to pay her back for it, but her stubborn ass won’t let me give her a single yen,” Yusuke explained, holding up a large replica of the Death Star.

The pompadoured male’s eyes lit up as he took in the awesome wonder of the huge project. “How long did that one take, Urameshi?!”

“Oh man, let me try to remember…” the green-haired boy murmured, “a good few months at least.”

“So cool…” Kuwabara breathed.

“You wanna hold it?”

“Can I?!”

“Sure,” Yusuke chimed, carefully placing the orb into his friend’s hands. “Just know that if you drop it, you won’t be walking away unscathed. Got it?”

Kazuma paled. “M-Mhm!”

As the taller male observed the craft, Hiei sighed in contentment. He never thought that he would enjoy the company of the two ruffians; moreover, he didn’t expect to find solace in watching rain fall.

“Say, Hiei,” Yusuke’s curious voice sounded from the other end of the room. “Did’ya ever have a raindrop race? Like you watched two drops trickle down at the same time and raced them?”

The black-haired demon narrowed his eyes in confusion before turning to the curious boy. “That sounds unbearably boring.”

“It’s like watching paint dry,” Kurama quipped, his deft fingers coming up to turn the page.

“Hey!” The spirit detective whined. “Oh like you’re any better. You’re reading Dickens!”

The red-haired male’s eyes flickered away from the copy of Great Expectations to an angry Yusuke. “And how did you know who the author was? My finger was covering his name,” he replied curtly.

Yusuke’s face burned in embarrassment. “W-Well-“

Having safely placed the Death Star on the shelf above him, Kuwabara cooed at his friend. “Ooooo! Urameshi likes reaaaadinnngg!!” he chirped, accentuating his teasing words with repeated pokes to the boy’s sides.

Yusuke squirmed and sputtered as he curled in on himself, falling backwards against the spirit sword user’s torso. “C-Cut that ohohohout!”

Kuwabara trapped Yusuke in his arms, caging him in. The little pokes had turned into rapid vibrations, and soon Kuwabara’s fingers were wiggling into the boy’s sides. “K-Kuwahahahabahaharahaha!”

The orange-haired male flashed him a Cheshire grin, cooing little teases in his ear as he snaked his finger’s under Yusuke’s shirt to spider his fingers along his tummy. The two demons’ attention was grabbed by an adorable squeal of agony.

“Nahaha-nahahahahaohoho! Quhihihihit ihihihit! Stahahahappihihihit!” Yusuke whined as his hips arched off the floor.

“Kuwabara,” Kurama warned. “If he’s asking you to stop, you must be mindful of his requests.”

“Ihihihim okahahahay. Ihihihits juhuhust a- hahahabihihit-HYEAHAHA!” The green-haired boy all but screeched as he felt Kuwabara’s fingers trail down to prod at his hips. “WAITWAITWAIT! OKAHAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHAY! THAHAHATS- THAHAHATS ENOHOHOUGH! KUHUHUWAHAHABAHAHARAHAHA!”

The pompadoured male promptly stopped and smiled, patting Yusuke’s tummy a few times before helping him sit up. “Sorry, Urameshi, couldn’t help it.”

Yusuke panted a bit, his dopey smile still plastered on his face. “Yeah, yeah,” he breathed, “Better watch your back… sleep with an eye open.”

Hiei breathed out a chuckle, a small guffaw leaving him. “Now don’t let Genkai know about this weakness of yours,” he quipped, “You’d never make it through another training.”

The spirit gun user flushed upon thinking of said scenario. By the name of the Spirit World… Genkai would be merciless.

“This gets me thinking… do demons have weaknesses too?” Kuwabara asked, poking Yusuke once more and eliciting a jolt.

“Of course we do. You’ve seen Kurama and I get gravely injured multiple times.” The fire demon replied, a small bout of confusion evident on his features.

“No, no, he’s got a good point,” the green-haired boy interrupted. “He means like- do you have human weaknesses? Like can you see a puppy in danger and stop everything to save it? Do you feel sad at sad movies? Or do you get grossed out when you see a bug?” There was a small moment of hesitation from Yusuke. “Are you ticklish?”

“Well…” Kurama chimed, sitting upright on his ankles, “I do get feelings from my human form. I experience the full spectrum of emotion. I would save that puppy, and sometimes sad movies get me a bit emotional. I don’t very much mind insects, but I’m not a fan of them. I experience laughter and joy as well,” he answered, dodging that last question.

“Oh laughter he does experience indeed,” Hiei interrupted, looking to the boys with an evil smile, “It’s quite easy to incite that experience.”

“Watch your tongue, Hiei,” the redhead growled, “You’re letting too much information go.”

“Oh really? You think I’m revealing too much to our delinquents?” the black haired-demon asked with menace.

“I do. And I think you’re about to let something slip; something with which I would very much not like these hooligans to know.” He rocked forward on his knees, “walking” closer to the fire demon, their faces almost touching, “Lock. Your. Lips,” he demanded.

“Fine,” a Cheshire grin toyed at his lips. “After all, it’s like you’ve always said, Kurama…”

The two delinquents watched Hiei effortlessly push Kurama over, sitting on his waist and holding his wrists above his head with one hand.

“Actions speak louder than words…”

“M-Must we resort to s-s-such childish antics?” there was a new emotion in the fox demon’s voice that neither human had heard before: apprehension. Hiei wiggled his fingers above certain spots, never actually touching down. “These two d-dohohont need to sehehehee what you’re-mmh!- talking abohohohout.”

Kurama sounded like he was fighting off giggling, but his voice was still low and demanding. The usual bass was still present, but the sweet chuckles slipping out gave it a more charming sound.

Hiei remained silent, his fingers finally touching down to wiggle against Kurama’s underarms.

“Agh- Hihihihiehehei-plehehehehease - pffhehehehe- plehehehehease behehe cihihihivil.”

Absolute silence was the fire demon’s reply, causing Kurama’s face to flush a bit in embarassment, his laughter being the only sound in the room.

“S-Say an-ngh-ahahanythihihihing y-you heheheathehen!” the red-haired demon all but begged.

The two human boys watched with fervor, stars in their eyes glistened as they took in the beautiful reality in front of them.

Kurama is ticklish. Kurama is ticklish. Kurama is ticklish.

Kurama is ticklish!

With a bout of urgency, Kuwabara jumped to his feet, rescuing the copy of Great Expectations and dropped a bookmark in it. He sat back down next to Yusuke, holding the book securely.

“Hihihihieheheihihi!” the fox demon whined. “Plehehehehease!”

“Please what? You told me to be quiet, and I’m obeying your command,” the black-haired demon replied. “Don’t blame me; tickling you was too easy of an opportunity to pass up.”

The redhead turned his head to the side, hoping to hide his face. The pink tint on his cheeks was prevalent, further signifying his pure embarrassment. As Hiei moved his hand down to Kurama’s tummy and sides, the fox demon got a bit of a breather. He wasn’t the most ticklish there, but it still got some giggles out of him.

“Oh dear, what a pity that you aren’t ticklish here. It would’ve been quite amusing to see you curl up around my hand,” Hiei teased, letting his fingers rake up and down the other’s middle.

“Jesus…” the green-haired boy murmured in a high-octaved voice. “Being tickled by Hiei is a death sentence.” he felt dizzy even looking at it…

“I heard that, Yusuke,” Hiei reported. “Don’t think you’re off the hook.”

Poor Yusuke’s eyes widened. What did he do?!

The fire demon grew bored, opting to move his hand down and pinch at the fox demon’s hips. Kurama’s eyes bugged out as his breath hitched a bit. He fell into deep belly laughter as Hiei released his arms and dug in with both hands.

“H-Hihihiehehehei yohohOHOHOU bahHAHAHAstahahard!”

No reply once more. What a cruel, cruel man!

Kurama threw his head back against Yusuke’s pillow and squealed, beautiful laughter pouring from his lips. “HihihiehEHEHEhei!”

“What’s wrong?” An innocent inquiry. “Ticklish?” A menacing rhetorical.

“M-Mohohove- HYEAHAHAHA! MohohOHOhove spohOHOHots!”

“Hmph, your human form is such a weakling,” he murmured, causing Kurama’s blush to deepen, “as you wish.”

The fire demon’s hand found their way to the fox demon’s thighs, taking refuge and squeezing there. Kurama shot upwards and tried to push at the hands assaulting his hyper-ticklish thighs. The poor redhead could only fall backwards and squirm, hoping to escape.

“NONONONO! NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!”

“Oh? Not… here? But I could have sworn that you had said to move spots. It’s not nice to make requests you don’t want fulfilled.”

“Man, Hiei is ruthless,” Kuwabara reported over Kurama’s frantic giggling, placing the book safely on the floor next to him.

“Hmph. Serves Kurama right for always tickling me,” Yusuke pouted through pursed lips.

“YUHUHUHUSUHUHUKEHEHE! KUHUHUWABAHAHAHRAHAHA! HEHEHEHELP MEHEHE!” Kurama all but begged.

The two boys smiled as they stood to their feet and spectated from a higher angle. This side of Kurama was one that only they would be lucky enough to see. His sweater had ridden up a bit, revealing the soft skin of his torso, flushed pink from the previous contact of ticklish fingers. His face was pinker than his shirt, and little tears of mirth dotted the corners of his eyes.

“Aw man, Kurama, you look adorable!” Yusuke chirped. “Of course I’ll help you out.” the spirit gun user chimed as he softly swiped his fingers across the fox demon’s neck.

Well, that did it.

Kurama exploded into cute laughter. Not knowing which person to arch away from, he simply let his head hit the pillow as he boomed with laughter. His chuckles were breathy and desperate, with little hiccups and stutters adorning them.

“YOHOHOHOU TWOHOHOHO AHAHAHRE AWFUHUHUHUL! IHIHIHI- *Hic* IHIHIHI CAHAHAHANT-“

“Guys-“ Kuwabara attempted.

“Awww, poor Kurama,” Yusuke teased in a baby voice, eyes closed in glee.

“Hey, guys!-“

“QUIHIHIHIHIT IHIHIHIT! *snort* IHIHIHITS TOHOHOHOO MUHUHUHUCH!”

“Perhaps you should have thought about that before you spoke to me with such poison on your tongue,” Hiei replied, focusing on squeezing with dexterity.

“CMOHOHOHOHON!! ST-STOHOHOHOP ALREHEHEHEADY!”

“HIEI! URAMESHI!”

The two males stopped their assault immediately, looking at an angry orange-haired boy. Their attention had been dwindled from Kurama for a few seconds..

“You have to give him a break. He’s tired! Can’t you tell he’s had enough?”

When the three looked back upon Kurama, the two humans felt a chill run down their spines. In place of his previously fiery-red hair, long, white strands adorned his head. Large, fuzzy ears twitched before he sat upward, pushing his two assailants off of him.

Before he could register it, Yoko pounced, and their positions were switched. Yusuke was now pinned under the demon effortlessly, squirming in anticipation.

“Now, now, Yusuke,” his smooth voice had murmured. “It seems you know what’s in store for you…”

The boy swallowed. Kuwabara backed up, grabbing a starstruck Hiei and pulling him off of the bed.

“Now, tell me,” Yoko demanded. “What is the difference between myself and my pathetically sensitive human form?”

The spirit gun user squirmed a bit in anticipation. “Y-You have claws?”

A rumbling laugh escaped the white-haired demon. “Astute observation, Yusuke, but that was not the answer I was seeking.”

Yusuke’s body squirmed and squirmed, trying to free himself as Yoko’s hand descended and rested atop of his tummy.

“Shuichi experiences human emotions, and I do not,” Yoko whispered calmly. “And among those emotions…”

Yusuke all but screamed when he felt the demon’s claws begin their ticklish assault on his sides. It was 100x worse than Shuichi’s more gentle approach. His bottom instantly arched up from the bed as helpless laughter poured from his lips.

“Is mercy…”

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[asexualbookbird]

The Bone Season / The Bone Season Tenth Anniversary Edition by Samantha Shannon - ⭐⭐

I bought the OG Bone Season shortly after release. I'd never heard of it, but the jacket copy intrigued me. It sat on my shelf for way too long and then someone said the main character was asexual so I bumped it up on my list. I finally read it in 2019 and did not have a good time. Heard she was releasing an updated version of not just the first one, but of all books that have so far been released, and told myself I would NOT be reading them. The problems I had ran far too deep to be fixed with a silly little Tenth Anniversary Edition. Then bookoutlet had the first one for ten dollars. I can do a side by side comparison for ten dollars. So, here I am. Seven days and 963 pages later.

Did this book need updating? Yes, actually! I'm glad she did it! The changes she made WERE mostly improvements. Some were just odd, like changing Paige's lunch order at the cafe from a salad to soup. Okay. Girlboss I guess. Others were great, like moving the scenes with Liss around. Most notable, when Liss reads Paige's cards. No, she shouldn't have done that when Paige was late for curfew and all the Rephaim were looking for her! That made no sense! Good job moving that to a more reasonable spot. I also loved Jaxon's entrance into the Guildhall in the updated version way more! He was more dramatic and it felt more in character than him showing up quietly and getting Paige out. She also removed that dumb computer scene that made no sense. No, I don't think they'd be able to have a functional computer hidden away somewhere in the city with no electricity or modern amenities or technology. I also think she should've cut so many words.

My issue with Priory was that it was too damn long (and not enough dragons). My issue with >Bone Season is. Well. Many reasons. But it's also too damn long! It's so much of Paige running around Oxford. Paige having dream memories, which I have qualms about as well, Paige hating Warden, Paige loving Warden, Warden being a dick, I know SShannon has said she doesn't enjoy writing action scenes because she feels she's not good at them, but they're always her best scenes because she puts more effort into them! Paige in Tom Tower, Paige during her Second Test, they're good action scenes! Put that effort into the rest of your damn books! And yeah, the memories, I think it's dumb when someone uses dreams to give us flashback information, but SShannon gave a Reason for that here. I'm not it makes it any less dumb or if I'm just annoyed with the book already. If it was another author, would I still hate it? I don't know!

I do appreciate she took out most info dumps, the updated version was a lot easier to read because of it, but the story about Adonis sticks out. I don't think an otherworldly creature that doesn't care much about humans and spends 99% of his time in this tiny city that hasn't been updated in 200 years, would know or care about the Adonis mythos. I get it, you're using that to make paralells between him and Paige and Nashira. It's still out of place.

I appreciate changing Paige's cousin and his friends from being instigators in the riots, bringing bombs to a protest, to them just showing up for a cause they believe in and then the government making things a problem. Good call in not making the Irish folk terrorists this time around. All the Irish in the book was left unchanged, though, and I've been told that it's uh. Inaccurate at best. It's also interesting in the updated version, she had Paige use her Irish accent later in life, instead of sticking with the London accent she taught herself so she wouldn't be bullied (it didn't work).

My biggest problem that I didn't expect to be fixed and it wasn't, is the plot as a whole. The Rephs. Nashira. This group of aliens coming to earth and taking over and SECRETLY CONTROLLING THE GOVERNMENT AND KILLING HUMANS. It just does NOT sit right with me. Certainly not in today's political climate. I don't think SShannon is a bad person, I haven't seen any evidence in her social media of her holding antisemitic views, but that runs deep. Lots of us hold beliefs and knowledge that's antisemitic without realising it. My issue is how did it get through this revision without anyone saying anything. Why was she allowed this revision at ALL, to be honest. Why, among all the authors out there, was she the one given the chance to change her books that were already out in the wild? And again, so far I'm mostly happy about the updates! There's nothing she changed that I think shouldn't have been changed! But it begs the question, if these books needed this much revising, why were they first published at ALL?

Now for my Hot Take, In Good Faith. I don't think she started the series where it should've started. I think The Pale Dreamer should've been fleshed out as an entire novel, and The Bone Season should've been a book later down the line. Paige choosing to leave Jaxon would've hit harder, the Rephs controlling everything would've been a bigger twist, the world of Scion could've been more fleshed out so we'd understand more why Carl chose the Rephs so quickly. Getting these insights in tiny flashbacks didn't flesh out the world enough for the beats to hit. It would've also been nice to see Paige IN that world. We're TOLD she's a mollisher, but we don't see much mollishing. Maybe even give more time to Paige's sexuality because boy that does not sit right with me this time around.

Maybe I misremembered, maybe Paige was demisexual, but she does NOT read as ace in the updated version. It was already iffy in the og, but here I had to put the book down in the bar scene because WHAT! It had way different vibes! I know everyone has different experiences with being ace, and I know I've put myself in situations I only thought I wanted because it's what You're Supposed To Want, but it felt icky. I don't want to say it's not very asexual of her, because who knows! Maybe that's the authors personal experience and I don't want to shit on that! I simply do not like it. It doesn't sit well with me.

If you liked the OG Bone Season, then yeah I guess. Read this. It's not too different, it is an improvement in flow, and Warden is less of a prick. If you didn't like the OG, then don't bother! Don't be like me! If I can find the others for not jacket price, I'll do this again. I did enjoy The Mime Order more (because of the lack of Rephs) so I'm curious if the updated one will be more readable. That's as far as I got in the OG series so after that who knows. I sure don't. I just like to suffer I guess.

[palfriendpatine66]

Hello friend! I was thinking about PiP (always) and I remembered Obi-Wan telling Anakin that he's had some... regretful hair cuts in the past. Then I remembered that Suit Life of Zach and Cody episode where Cody dyes his hair and I ended up coming up with this little scene for my It Takes a Village WIP. Since PiP inspired it I wanted to share it with you! 💖

---

Obi-Wan stepped lightly away from Korkie’s room, avoiding the creaky spot just outside the door, and made his way into the living room. It had been a hectic few days getting all of Anakin's belongings moved over and (mostly) unpacked. Padme hadn't been kidding when she said he didn't have many household belongings - he had a grand total of two bowls, three plates, miscellaneous silverware that were all mismatched and Obi-Wan suspected came from various restaurants, and a handful of other appliances. The only furniture he opted to keep was his bed, deciding that the sad excuse for a drooping couch wasn't worth putting in storage for when he eventually moved out.

What she hadn't told him about, though, was the sheer amount of things Anakin had. Apparently Anakin partook in many different hobbies, depending on his mood. He had random computer and robotics circuitry and parts, surprisingly soft yarn and a pair of knitting needles that appeared to have seen better days, an empty fish bowl that now housed an assortment of rocks, and various tools that Obi-Wan was secretly glad Anakin was bringing into the house (his dinky little toolbox was paltry in comparison and he was positive that taking care of Korkie - and Anakin - would require something to be repaired in the future).

But they had finally finished finding homes for everything. And in the process, Anakin had found a few of Obi-Wan's belongings that he decided needed to also be re-housed. Namely, an old scrapbook Qui-Gon had given him as a housewarming present years ago. Qui-Gon and Padme had meticulously included copies of everything from their lives together from copies of Obi-Wan's adoption papers, pictures of Obi-Wan cuddling with his newborn sister, notes that Padme had found between herself and Obi-Wan, to pictures of Obi-Wan in front of the house holding the first box he brought in. While he cherished the book - and the memories it invoked - he had had it in a drawer of a side table in the living room. Now Anakin insisted it needed a more prominent position. He also briefly mentioned starting one for Korkie, but when Obi-Wan asked him about it he quickly changed the subject.

When Obi-Wan sat down on the couch next to Anakin he was hardly surprised to see his new roommate looking through the pictures. He hadn't had the chance to get through all of it, but once he got permission to look he had become determined to look at everything it contained.

“Aw, you dressed up with Padme for Halloween!”

“Oh yes, I remember that year. She was obsessed with Peter Pan.” Obi-Wan chuckled. “She loved that he and I had matching hair, so she decided it would be perfect for us to go as Peter and Tinkerbell.”

“That's adorable.” The smile on Anakin's face made Obi-Wan's night in uncomfortable green tights worth it. Mostly. “Not many teenagers would have agreed to go out with their little sister, let alone dress up.”

“Well, you know she and I have always been close. Besides, when she wants her way she knows exactly what to say to get it. There's a reason she’s going to school for politics.”

Anakin turned the page and froze, Obi-Wan letting out a groan that was much too loud for naptime when he saw what caught his eye.

“What. Is this?”

In the picture, seventeen year old Obi-Wan had a scowl on his face while his mom fretted behind him trying in equal parts to help and not to laugh. Instead of his usual auburn hair that Anakin had always seen, his locks were a bright, Christmas red.

“What you have to understand is-”

“How have I never seen this before?! Surely I would have remembered this hairstyle!”

Obi-Wan's forehead dropped into his hand. “I was mad at Qui-Gon for not letting me do something - I don't even remember what. So when I was at a friend’s house we had decided a great way at getting back at him would be to dye my hair.”

“You picked this color?!”

“No! We dyed it black. Needless to say, mom and dad were not pleased when I came home. I think that was the closest I've ever seen Qui-Gon to being angry with me. He immediately drove me to the store and we got bleach and a box of hair dye that looked like it would be close to my natural color. When we got back, mom tried her best but this was the result. It was supposed to be ‘Honey Mist Auburn’ if I remember correctly.”

Anakin bit his lip, trying desperately to hold back a laugh. “Honey, you missed auburn big time.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and Anakin let out a guffaw.

“Yes, well. We ended up having to go to a salon. That was when I had that horrible, short haircut, remember? Most of my hair ended up so damaged that they had to chop it off. But at least they were able to salvage the color and I didn't have to shave it.”

Anakin hid his face in Obi-Wan's shoulder to try and quiet his laughs. He knew what Korkie would be like if you woke him up too soon from his nap and he didn't want to start their co-habitation on the wrong foot. Obi-Wan found he didn't mind. He actually quite enjoyed feeling Anakin's body vibrate with his mirth and the hot puffs of breath against his neck. He smiled to himself, despite looking directly at picture evidence of his youthful mistakes.

Ok first I’m going to make this about me for a hot second. That’s twice tonight someone’s told me they’re still thinking about PiP. And my heart. Seriously. I cannot tell you just how happy this makes me. And that any part of it INSPIRED something more? Crying.

Ok. Now that I’ve gotten me out of the way:

I need to know more about this au!!!!

Yes to weird junk drawer pack rat Anakin.

Yes to stolen silverware.

Yes to honey auburn mist!!!!!