#i will not stop putting science into creative writing

[charliesangel67]

Against all odds

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Word count- 1567

Warnings: Smutttt, a little bit of fluff, acedemic rivals (kind of, idk how to write it)

Authors note: I'm actually so sorry this took so long, idek why but it was a bit hard to write. Anyway, it's here and I hope you enjoy.

This was based of off @weirdowithnobeardo 's idea which is the first comment on this post

“Ok, can somebody tell me the answer to question b?” Quickly, hands flew up in the air. “Mr Cameron, what is the answer?” “4x+7n=33y” Rafe said confidently. “”That’s wrong.” I announced. “Go on, what’s your theory Miss y/n?” My teacher said, “It’s 4x+7n=36y because x is equal to 2.” I stated. “That is correct y/n, well done.” My teacher smiled at me. I smiled in Rafe’s direction but he just glared at me. Next period science, we got our tests back, “So Cameron, what did you get?” I asked Rafe curiously. “94%, you?” “99%” I replied with a smile. Again, he seemed so angry at me for getting a higher score. This went on for the next couple of weeks, He acted like we were academic rivals.

3 weeks later

There it was, the test sitting on my desk, a bright red ‘A+’ written in the top right corner. I was proud of myself for scoring so high on such a hard test. It was 40% of my final GPA result so I had to score high. I turned around to see Rafe staring daggers at me. “Bad result Cameron?” I asked him teasingly. “Shut up y/l/n” He growled as he clenched his jaw. I giggled to myself and turned my attention back to the teacher. 

The bell rang for the end of the day and I hurriedly grabbed my backpack and ran to my locker. My friend Maddy always meets me at my locker because we’re in different year levels, Maddy’s in 10th and I’m in 11th grade. “So, how was your day Mads?” I asked unlocking my locker. “Shit. So fucking shit you have no idea.” “I’m sure it couldn't have been that bad.” I laughed. “No, y/n it was bad. So bad in fact that I got broken up with by Jason the son of a bitch in front of half the cafeteria.” She announced. “Oh shit, sorry babe, he was no good for you anyway.” I said walking away with her. 

As we were walking to my car, Maddy realised she had forgotten something in her locker so she ran back towards the buildings. Suddenly, I felt a rough hand grab hold of my upper arm and pin me against a wall. A hand covered my mouth to stop me from screaming. “Oh you son of a bitch. You’re so fucking done little girl.” I knew the voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite figure out who it was. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light and situation, I realised it was Jason and his group of friends. 

“So, did you and Maddy talk shit about me to the school after what I did to her?” He asked again, still keeping me against the wall. “What the fuck. No we didn’t, why would you think that?” I was astonished at the accusation. “Because, now the whole school thinks that I have an STD and all the girls I’ve slept with have smashed my locker and put slime in the gas tank of my car.” He complained. “Wow, creative girls for real.” I said with a little laugh. “Ok, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” 

“It was me, you son of a bitch!” Yelled Rafe, walking towards us. “Why?! Why the fuck would you do that?” Jason asked, close to tears. Rafe pulls a phone out of his pocket and starts reading some texts - 

“‘C’mon Maddy, It won’t be that bad. Why don’t you wanna sleep with me?”

“Because I’m not ready for that Jason, I’ve told you a million times. We have only been together a month and I’m not ready to have sex yet. Just stop asking me already.”

“Fine. Go fuck some other dude, you fucking slut. You’ll regret not being with me.” “What do you mean Jason? Are you breaking up with me??”” 

“Hey! Where did you get my phone from you bitch?!” Jason asked launching himself at Rafe, who dodged the blow perfectly. “You left her on delivered for 9 hours just so you could slut shame her and break up with her in the cafeteria in front of everyone, all because she didn’t want to sleep with you?!  Not to mention you cheated on her the entire relationship. You’re a real ass man.” Rafe said. “I suggest you leave Maddy, Y/n and all the other girls you’ve messed with, alone and get on with your life.” Rafe yelled as Jason and his friends ran away.

They knew how powerful Rafe could be and they didn’t want to get on his bad side. “Thanks Rafe. Why did you do that anyway?” I asked, “Don’t think I did it for you, I hate Jason.” “Oh, okay.” I replied sheepishly before walking away, back to my car and to meet with Maddy. The drive home was silent after I told Maddy all about what happened. Her being in disbelief about what Rafe had done to Jason. 

A couple weeks later, it was Midsummers, I had bought a nice dress and had a plan laid out on how we were going to spend the evening with Maddy and her sister, Kiara. Kiara picked us up and we drove to the Cameron’s mansion as that was where the party was. Kiara was friends with Sarah, Rafes younger sister.

A couple hours into the party,  Rafe approached me, taking my hand and dragging me upstairs. “Rafe, what are you doing?” I whispered, “Taking you to my room.” “Why?” I asked, a little scared. “Because you look way too beautiful in that dress and I noticed JJ basically eye fucking you.” He turned to face me, looking very sexy in his button down shirt and his hair falling into his eyes. Without thinking I put my hand out to brush his hair away from his face, he grabbed my neck and leaned down to kiss me. 

“No, Rafe, we can’t do this.” I said as I pulled away. “Why not y/n?” “Because, I’m a pogue, you're a kook and you should hate me. In fact, you did act like you hated me after you stood up for me in front of Jason, and now suddenly you’re acting all jealous when JJ looks at me?” I asked in a confronting manner. “Look, y/n, I like you.” “No, we can’t Rafe. Your dad is gonna kill you and my parents are gonna fucking disown me or something if they found out I was dating a kook, especially Mr Rafe Cameron with his bad reputation.” 

Rafe didn’t say another word, he just leaned down again to kiss me, This time it was more passionate. At that moment, I didn’t even care that we shouldn’t be doing this, I just kissed him back. Rafe picked me up and carried me to his room. He threw me on the bed and locked the door. He crawled on top of me and placed feather light kisses along my neck to my cleavage. “Can I?” he asked as his fingers were tangled in the strap off my dress. “Mmmh,” I responded softly as he carefully took off my dress. 

I tugged at his belt, hinting for him to take off his pants as I unbuttoned his shirt. Within minutes, we were both butt naked, he took my boobs in his hands, massaging them and kissing along them. I moaned at the pleasure. I palmed his cock through his boxers and I felt him getting hard underneath my hand. Quickly, Rafe ripped off his boxers and rubbed his cock against my entrance. Already slick and wet, he pushed inside. I moaned as he did so, Rafe thrusted slowly and sensually.

“Mmh, You like that baby?” He asked, staring into my eyes. “So much Rafe.” I replied. Rolling my eyes back as Rafe thrusted harder into my soaking cunt and he kissed along my breasts. Soon, I was nearing my release, my cunt tightening around him. And a couple thrusts later I had come undone onto his thick cock. “Fuck baby, I'm gonna come.” “Come in me Rafe.” I begged him and seconds later he squirted his hot cum into my pussy. Out of breath and panting, I crawled on top of him, lying on his chest, my hands tangled in his hair as he kissed my neck. “Promise we can keep this a secret for a little while longer until I tell my parents?” I asked him. Rafe nodded and uttered a soft ‘yes’. I kissed him one more time before getting up and getting dressed. 

“I’m gonna head back down stairs okay? The girls are gonna be worried about where I was.” I told him, opening the door. “One more kiss babe.” Rafe said and when I turned around, seeing his abs again stirred something deep within me. Want. I wanted this man. His hair, his face, his body, his personality towards me. I wanted everything about him. I didn’t think, I just jumped back onto the bed into his arms. Rafe kissed me hard and passionate and I melted into his touch. Soon we were back at it again, he was thrusting slowly and sensually into my soaked cunt as I buried my face in his shoulder quieting my moans.

That night was the best sex I ever had. 

I also got a super protective boyfriend.

I hope you guys liked this 😁

[laudaddysmitten]

Stunning View - Chapter 2

by LaudaddySmitten

(GOAD Writers Guild Official)

Ch 2: “In this honeysuckle grove…” Summary

Crowley, still rather off-his-head on laudanum, makes a lovely discovery in their surroundings, and shares it with Aziraphale. There's more to this graveyard (and this demon) than Aziraphale realized.

CW/TW: Canon-typical substance use- laudanum (but NO dub con); Rated Explicit (Eventual smut later chapters)

Excerpt

With a lilt of curiosity which always led Crowley to excitement, (excitement being the only logical thing for curiosity to lead to, after all), he ruminated, “Ooohh I know it, I know this one! It smells…it smells…really sweet and nice, like …well, like you, angel, you always smell really sweet and nice. But I already know what you smell like and this isn't that. So…..”

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut in almost painful concentration. “OH! I know! I have it!” Crowley jabbed a finger in Aziraphale's direction with great finality, and declared confidently, “It's…Whazzitsname!”

Having made himself perfectly clear, Crowley grinned smugly at Aziraphale then proceeded to look for the source of the smell.  Prickly blades of grass needled their way closer to his scalp as he let his head fall rapidly side to side. Unable to really focus on much with head lolling at the speed of laudanum, he stopped when the world began to spin faster than planetary physics allow. Only then did some of the visual input catch up to the processing part of his brain. “Wait, I think I saw it!”

Crowley moved his head more cautiously the second time around and stopped when he found Aziraphale to his right. (That was very distracting. Does Aziraphale know how distracting he is?) Crowley smiled over his glasses, “are you wearing whazzitsname-perfumed soap, Aziraphale?” Aziraphale blushed, and the slate of Crowley’s thoughts wiped itself clean, replacing the previous jumble of scribbles with a perfectly rendered recreation of Aziraphale's irises in which Crowley was swimming. Crowley's singular attention meant he noticed when Aziraphale's eyes drifted out of focus. “Crowley, is it a plant you're talking about?”

Continue reading on AO3

Best beta team! @olfactoryventriloquism @outrageousring5655 @happynachohologram - thanks for beta-ing this chapter more than any reasonable writer should ever request, and for bullying me very nicely convincing me to write that scene.

I hope you like how it all turned out. ❤️

Thanks everyone in the @goodomensafterdark Writer's Guild! Additional Ch 2 betas: @fishey-me @kotias @sixbynine-da @ghst-signal

Amazing custom fanart for my fic:

Thank you @lexarturo

[xhoneygirlxx]

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

-

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

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[books]

Writer Spotlight: Jamie Beck

Jamie Beck is a photographer residing in Provence, France. Her Tumblr blog, From Me To You, became immensely successful shortly after launching in 2009. Soon after, Jamie, along with her partner Kevin Burg, pioneered the use of Cinemagraphs in creative storytelling for brands. Since then, she has produced marketing and advertising campaigns for companies like Google, Samsung, Netflix, Disney, Microsoft, Nike, Volvo, and MTV, and was included in Adweek Magazine’s “Creative 100” among the industry’s top Visual Artists. In 2022, she released her first book, An American in Provence, which became a NYT Bestseller and Amazon #1 book in multiple categories, and featured in publications such as Vogue, goop, Who What Wear, and Forbes. Flowers of Provence is Jamie’s second book.

Can you tell us about how The Flowers of Provence came to be?

I refer to Provence often as ‘The Garden of Eden’ for her harmonious seasons that bring an ever-changing floral bounty through the landscape. My greatest joy in life is telling her story of flowers through photography so that we may all enjoy them, their beauty, their symbolism, and their contribution to the harmony of this land just a bit longer. 

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

How do your photography and writing work together? Do you write as part of your practice?

I constantly write small notations, which usually occur when I am alone in nature with the intention of creating a photograph or in my studio working alone on a still life. I write as I think in my head, so I have made it a very strict practice that when a thought or idea comes up, I stop and quickly write the text in the notes app on my phone or in a pocket journal I keep with me most of the time. If I don’t stop and write it down at that moment, I find it is gone forever. It is also the same practice for shooting flowers, especially in a place as seasonal as Provence. If I see something, I must capture it right away because it could be gone tomorrow. 

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

You got your start in commercial photography. What’s something you learned in those fields that has served you well in your current creative direction?

I think my understanding of bridging art and commerce came from my commercial photography background. I can make beautiful photographs of flowers all day long, but how to make a living off your art is a completely different skill that I am fortunate enough to have learned by working with so many different creative brands and products in the past. 

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

Do you remember your first photograph?

Absolutely! I was 13 years old. My mother gave me her old Pentax 35mm film camera to play with. When I looked through the viewfinder, it was as if the imaginary world in my head could finally come to life! I gave my best friend a makeover, put her in an evening gown in the backyard of my parents’ house in Texas, and made my first photograph, which I thought was so glamorous! So Vogue!

You situate your photographic work with an introduction that charts the seasons in Provence through flowers. Are there any authors from the fields of nature writing and writing place that inspire you?

I absolutely adore Monty Don! His writing, his shoes, and his ease with nature and flowers—that’s a world in which I want to live. I also love Floret Flowers, especially on social media, as a way to learn the science behind flowers and how to grow them. 

How did you decide on the order of the images within The Flowers of Provence?

Something I didn’t anticipate with a book deal is that I would actually be the one doing the layouts! I assumed I would hand over a folder of images, and an art director would decide the order. At first, it was overwhelming to sort through it all because the work is so personal, and I’m so visual. But in the end, it had to be me. It had to be my story and flow to be truly authentic. I tried to move through the seasons and colors of the landscape in a harmonious way that felt a bit magical, just as discovering Provence has felt to me. 

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

How do you practice self-care when juggling work and life commitments alongside the creative process?

The creative process is typically a result that comes out of taking time for self-care. I get some of my best ideas for photographic projects or writing when I am in a bath or shower or go for a long (and restorative) walk in nature. Doing things for myself, such as how I dress or do my hair and makeup, is another form of creative expression that is satisfying. 

What’s a place or motif you’d like to photograph that you haven’t had a chance to yet?

I am really interested in discovering more formal gardens in France. I like the idea of garden portraiture, trying to really capture the essence and spirit of places where man and nature intertwine. 

Which artists do you return to for inspiration?

I’m absolutely obsessed with Édouard Manet—his color pallet and subject matter. 

What are three things you can’t live without as an artist?

My camera, the French light, and flowers, of course. 

What’s your favorite flower to photograph, and why?

I love roses. They remind me of my grandmother, who always grew roses and was my first teacher of nature. The perfume of roses and the vast variety of colors, names, and styles all make me totally crazy. I just love them. They simply bring me joy the same way seeing a rainbow in the sky does. 

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #31

Belphegor: Snail but with no shell

Beelzebub: Oh those is then uuuuuuuuuuu slurms

Satan: A what

•

Diavolo: Maybe dogs lick us so much because they know there’s bones beneath our skin

Lucifer: This is worst thing you’ve said by far, thanks

•

Beelzebub: Aye can I get Uh…..ingredients on my burger

Satan: Beetroot?

Satan: You want beetroot?

Satan: You want fucking beetroot?

Beelzebub: Ingredience

Mammon: This post feels exactly like a conversation you would witness in a dream and think was completely normal and then wake up and think “what the fuck” for a single millisecond and then immediately forget about completely

•

Diavolo: I’ve lost 20% of my couch

Diavolo: Ouch

Solomon: That’s the funniest couch joke I’ve seen sofa

•

Mammon: *begins breakdancing gently* what’s wrong son?

Asmodeus: What the fuck. What does this even mean. Who thinks of this shit, why is it so funny. I hate this site

•

Mammon: You know what really gets my goat?

Barbatos: El chupacabra

•

Leviathan: The future: holograms can physically touch you and there are 12 cases of homicide committed by Hatsune Miku

Solomon: Just 12?

Diavolo: It’ll be 13 if you don’t stop asking questions

•

Satan: Do you ever get so excited you just want to crush a human skull in your hands

Mephistopheles: You just described breathing

Satan: I am fairly certain I Did Not

•

Mammon: I love it when the city gets rainy at night, and the floor gets all reflective and pretty, and everything becomes more vibrant and gorgeous and you can put any fluid on the ground and people will think it’s water, fools

Lucifer: This post was great until the last part, what are you implying

Mammon: Fool

•

Diavolo: Science puns, go!

Belphegor: You must have a pH of 13 cause you basic as fuck

•

Satan: Shut up @ people who still say “science side of tumblr”

Belphegor: Science side of tumblr why is this man so salty

Solomon: Osmosis

•

Satan: 100 years ago everyone owned a horse and only the rich had cars. Today everyone has cars and only the rich own horses

MC: The stables have turned

Mephistopheles: I laughed too hard at this and I hate you for it

•

Leviathan: Guys, I’m sorry but I think December 31st is going to be my last day on Tumblr for this year

Leviathan: …If one more person asks me why I’m leaving

Diavolo: Kids, this is why school is important

•

Simeon: In primary writing school we had a creative writing assignment where we had to ‘write about a character in a new strange environment’ and I wrote about a squid that was somehow transported from the ocean to the forest floor and slowly choked to death for two pages and I’ll never quite forget the look on my teacher’s face because it turns out she wanted ‘this new school is scary, I hope I make friends’ and not a graphic description of a squid dying

Lucifer: Well that’s just the risk you take if you decide to teach creative writing

•

Raphael: Why do stores always say “gifts for her”??? Who is she? Why are millions of Americans being encouraged to buy gifts for this entity? Someone explain

Mammon: We must appease Her

MC: She is all that keeps the darkness at bay. Without Her the Old Ones will rise again, we must not disappoint Her

Solomon: She is watching. She knows.

Last • Next

[daintyys]

baby i'm yours

fem!reader x tasm peter parker, 1.3k words, light swearing

this is a college au, basically peter and reader are dormmates at new york university. i love peter so pls give me prompts for him &lt;3

Peter was your best friend, and nothing more. That's what you kept having to tell yourself.

But, it was hard to think like that when you got a glimpse of him fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, and hair dripping. Let's face it, he was comparable to a Greek God.

You had been friends with Peter Parker since highschool, and it was a pleasant surprise to find out he had gotten into NYU just like you did. It was automatically settled, you would be roommates.

While you were studying creative writing, Peter was diving into the field of biochemistry. You couldn't seem to comprehend why he was so interested in science until a year ago, when he confessed to you that he was Spider-Man. You had to admit, it wasn't too surprising. He had that Spider-Man air about him.

Mornings in your dorm were nice, especially since you and Peter had breakfast together. You could always tell when he had been out in the city the night before, because he was ravenous.

"Mphm, mowe eggths?" He mumbled through a stuffed mouth. "If you're so hungry you should make them yourself." You giggled to him. He rolled his eyes, those gorgeous brown eyes. You stood up, wanting to start getting ready for your day. Peter's classes started before yours did, so right after breakfast he would always leave, but today was different.

You could feel his eyes on your body as you filled your glass up with water. A tank top and sweatpants was normal apparel for you, so it was hard to tell what was different about now. "Are you checking me out, Peter?" You threw your head back around to look at him, and his heart visibly stopped. "No! No, no. I would never do that, ew." He choked out. You cocked your eyebrow at him, and his eyes widened. "Oh you know I didn't mean it like that, you're cute, Y/N." His face was about as red as the apple he was biting into. You laughed as you retreated into your bedroom.

When you were finished getting ready, you left your bedroom to find Peter still sitting at the table. "You're still here?" You asked, sitting back down next to him. "Well yea, I just didn't wanna leave without saying a real goodbye to you." He wasn't making eye contact, which only happened when he was nervous. "Oh, well you're not planning on dying today, right?" You asked, laughing slightly. He chuckled back. "Yea, no. Just feel weird leaving without seeing you again." You admired his face, and watched a flush up his neck.

"Peter, you like me, don't you?" You were joking, he should have known that, but his mind was obviously not registering the way you had spoken when he blurted out: "Is it that obvious??". You froze, processing the words that had just left his mouth.

Peter slapped his hands over his mouth, not realizing you had been messing with him. "Oh fuck." Was all he mumbled as he stood up from the table, grabbing his backpack.

"No, Peter, wait!" You said, standing as well. You reached for his hand, and he quickly pulled away from you, a traumatized expression plastered across his face. "I am so, so, incredibly sorry, Y/N." He spluttered as he pulled his shoes on. As soon as he had finished speaking, he was rushing out of your dorm, slamming the door behind him.

You sat back down at the table, for fear you would faint if you continued standing. Your face was burning, and you were having trouble breathing. "Oh my God..." you mumbled, nervously twisting your hair. Standing up again, you noticed Peter's lunchbox still sitting on the kitchen counter. That gave you an idea.

You had liked him for almost 3 years. Even in highschool, where he was continuously bullied, he always managed to put a smile on your face. He was a "loser", sure, but that never stopped you from hanging out with him. He was a great guy. You thought of the time you skipped school with him all because he wanted to teach you how to skateboard.

On that day, you had sworn he was going to kiss you. He held your body close to his, trying to keep the two of you balanced on his skateboard. You had felt his heart beating rapidly, and wondered if he was as flustered as you were.

But none of that mattered now, because your relationship with Peter could be ruined after his little slip-up.

You grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil, and began to furiously write. If speaking face-to-face with Peter would be too much for him, a letter would be the second best option.

Dear Peter,

Definitely didn't expect this morning to consist of you confessing your feelings to me, but that's alright, because I feel the same way. I have since we were 16.

I've tried for a while to deny it, but now that you've come clean, it's only fair for me to do the same. I love you, Peter. You are my favorite person, and I don't want this morning to change anything with us. If it does change, then I hope it's for the better, not the worse.

That's all, I don't want to scare you away.

Love,

Y/N

Your hands were shaking as you folded the letter in half and tucked it into Peter's lunchbox. Now all that was left was to get it to him.

You walked as fast as you could, not caring that people were yelling obscenities when you shoved past them. You had to get to Peter before his class started. Looking at your phone, you saw you had 5 minutes left. Shit.

You began to run, desperate to arrive in time. You threw the double doors to the building open, and ran in the direction of Peter's chemical analysis class. People were staring, because you definitely did not look like you were ready to divide cells in a lab.

You reached the classroom, and stopped to catch your breath. You took out your phone again. 2 minutes until the bell rang. You grinned as you pushed the door open slowly. Then you saw him.

He was sitting at a desk, staring at the board with glazed-over eyes. He was the most beautiful boy you had ever seen, and you giggled as you pictured a future with him. You walked over to him, taking deep breaths.

"Ahem..." You cleared your throat as you placed his lunch on his desk. Peter jumped, and went ghost white as he made eye contact with you. "Y/N, what are you-" He began. "Shut up. Don't say anything until you look in your lunchbox." You said as you turned on your heel and left. Peter was confused. Very confused.

As soon as you were out of the classroom, he ripped open his lunchbox, grabbing the sheet of paper you had left inside. He unfolded the letter with shaking hands, and read it carefully. His organs were in his throat. "I love you," He whispered to himself. "Oh my God."

Peter stuffed the letter into his pocket and shot up from his desk, and then he was darting out of the classroom with his things, needing to find you as soon as possible.

You were walking back to your dorm, smiling to yourself, when your racing thoughts were interrupted with a yell. "Y/N! Y/N!" You stopped instantly, and turned around to see Peter barreling towards you. You laughed as he engulfed you in his arms, kissing you all over your forehead.

"Couldn't wait until later, hm?" You giggled, looking up into his eyes. Peter smiled, and shrugged. "I could have, but I didn't want to." He said as he put his arm around your shoulder. AYou walked home together, fingers interlaced, and dreamed of your future together.

[howlingday]

The boys and jaune are at the club looking for a girl so jaune can get laid.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C9c9kSjuO08/?igsh=OTJiZTJ0MHJqMzlm

Here's the link to more of the scene on YouTube. And thank you for inspiring me to make something a bit... creative at the end.

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

Jaune: (Smiles)

Cinder: I've got a secret~.

Jaune: Oh?

Cinder: I WORSHIP SALEM.

Jaune: ...

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

Harriet: (Chugging shots) See, that's the problem! I can't find a man who can satisfy me! Some guys can go an hour, maybe an hour and a half, but that's it! A man's got to put in overtime to get me off!

Jaune: ...

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

Yang: I'm not interested in a guy unless he rides a motorcycle.

Jaune: ...

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

Willow: Yeah, baby, well, I'm almost single. My husband's on death row!

Jaune: ...

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Melanie: This is the first date Missy's been on since the doctor separated us!

Miltiades: This is the first date Missy's been on since the doctor separated us!

Jaune: ...

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

Blake: I'm into the group thing.

Jaune: ...

Sun: (Smiles)

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

Salem: I was a powerful witch in a previous life.

Jaune: ...

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

Penny: (Beatboxing)

Ruby: My name is Ruby, and I'm the best~. Everybody always wanna feel my breast~.

Ruby: Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up...

Jaune: ...

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

Nora: I've been doing some videos, but what I really want to do is star in my own videos, because I want to become a pop singer, and a rock singer, and write my own songs, and sing my own songs, and then I want to be an actress...

Jaune: (Nodding in and out)

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Tyrian: (In a dress) I hope you don't mind me coming over and sitting down, but I've been watching you all night~. And I wanna tear you apart~.

Jaune: !

Tyrian: And your friend, too~.

Cardin: (Spits out drink)

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

Neptune: So, how's the hook up going?

Jaune: Terrible. I've spoken to probably a dozen girls tonight and not one of them feels right to me.

Cardin: Pssh! It's not about feeling right, Arc. It's about getting you some so you can stop being such a sad-sack!

Ren: I think what Cardin is trying to say is that you're looking too deep for a commitment. Tonight is just helping you make an attempt with a woman. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sun: Well, you guys might be losers, but I managed to get that groupie chick's number.

Jaune: Yeah, have fun with that. Hope you can find a player two.

Sun: Easy! Neptune, you in?

Neptune: Sorry, Sun, but I'm already spoken for tonight. See, I was just having the most interesting conversation with that hottie in the black dress.

Jaune: Well, be careful, because I don't think you're the only one working some magic tonight.

Cardin: Damn right! That babe in purple was hungry for some Winchester, and I'm ready to serve myself up on a silver platter~.

Jaune: ...Cardin, no. Just no. (Sighs) Ren, can you help him?

Ren: I'm afraid not, no. I'm going to be busy with my own escapades tonight.

Jaune: Yeah? What girl?

Ren: Women, actually. The biker girl and the dreamer.

Jaune: Oof... Hope you've got the horsepower and the earmuffs to land it, buddy.

Ren: I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Thank you for your concern, Jaune.

Jaune: So, everybody's getting laid tonight but me?

Cardin: Ah, just hammer back a few and pick one, Arc. It's not rocket science!

Jaune: Yeah, you're right. This makes brain surgery look easy.

Jaune: (Malachites dump drinks on him)

Jaune: ...I'm going home.

Sun: Dude, don't-

Jaune: Nope. Not doing it. (Walks out)

Neptune: Poor guy... Think he'll be okay?

Cardin: He's fine! Now, where'd that feisty purple chick go~?

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Jaune: (Walking up the stairs, Sighs) Fucking stupid-ass...

???: Are you okay?

Jaune: Huh? (Sees woman in work clothes)

???: You look like you've had a rough night.

Jaune: That's 1 way to put it. (Unlocks door) But nothing a shower can't fix, right?

???: Ooh...

Jaune: What?

???: I just spoke with the super. He said that side of the building was going to be without water until tomorrow.

Jaune: Great. Just... fucking... great. (Sighs)

???: I... don't think it's as great as you say it is. (Chuckles)

Jaune: No, but it's basically par for the course.

???: Oh, do you play golf?

Jaune: Uh, no, I'm not really a sports kind of guy.

???: Oh, really? Would you say you're a drinking kind of guy?

Jaune: Better in me than on me, actually. (Chuckles)

???: (Giggles) Well, I don't have anything stronger than coffee, I'm afraid.

Jaune: Agh, and I forgot to get coffee today. (Chuckles) Guess I can't get a win tonight, huh?

???: I guess not. But if you'd like, I could make us a cup.

Jaune: ...I don't think your husband would appreciate me coming inside smelling like I do.

???: Husband? (Looks down) Oh... No, I... I'm afraid I'm not married anymore. (Twists ring)

Jaune: Oh... Shit, I... I'm so sorry.

???: Thank you, but... It's been some time since he passed away. Maybe... Maybe it's time I move on... (Pulls off ring)

Jaune: I... I think you should move on when you feel like you're ready to move on.

???: (Smiles) You're sweet, you know that?

Jaune: Yeah, well, sweet only takes you so far.

???: Well, if you're not too sweet, you can use my shower. So long as you don't melt like sugar.

Jaune: (Chuckles) Thanks, and, uh, I promise not to melt in your shower.

???: I should have coffee ready by the time you're out.

Jaune: Oh, well, thank you. Uh, do you have sugar, too, or should I dip you in my coffee instead?

???: ...

Jaune: Too far? Sorry. I think it's the booze in my hair.

???: No, no, it's fine. It just took me a minute to realize you were making a sugar pun, too. (Chuckles)

Jaune: Yeah... Uh, listen, is it really okay if I use your shower?

???: Of course! I was going to use it myself, but you look like you could use it more. (Opens door)

Jaune: Thank you, (Walks in) and I promise not to take all the hot water.

???: Please don't. (Walks in, Shuts door) I could use a shower myself after such a long day.

Jaune: Rough night, too, huh?

???: Well, nothing's too rough for this tough, little lady. (Giggles)

Jaune: And, uh, does this tough, little lady have a tough, little name?

???: Hardly. If anything, it's as delicate as a flower.

Jaune: Well... My name's Jaune Arc. It's short, sweet, and rolls off the tongue. The ladies love it~.

???: (Snickers) Do they, now? Well, my name is Kali Belladonna, but I don't think I can come up with anything as creative as your introduction there.

Jaune: (Chuckles) Yeah, sorry. But at least it's not as bad as the songs I come up with.

Kali: Oh, you sing?

Jaune: Just as a hobby. Is this the bathroom here?

Kali: Mhm. Help yourself.

Jaune: But not too much. (Winks) Beautiful flower like you needs water, too.

Kali: (Giggles) Oh, stop~.

Jaune: (Enters, Locks door)

Kali: ...

Kali: (Sighs)

Kali: Kali Belladonna, this is how you get hurt.

Kali: (Takes off clothes, Unlocks door) Well... Here's hoping this is worth it...

[tossawary]

I feel like I should be clear, as I poke and prod at all of the loose threads of various "Star Wars" media, and I say that this part or that part was bad or weak or frustrating, that I do genuinely like SW a lot. I think it's fun to examine the flaws (when I note that a character has personality flaws, that is not necessarily to say that I think this is a flaw in the writing), but there's a lot about it that I think is genuinely good. And not just because I first became enamored with magic laser swords as a small child and will always be fond of space operas with Muppets. (Look, I know Yoda isn't real. He's a puppet. I know this. But also, look at him!!! He's a person!!! Like Kermit the Frog!!!) Not just "SW would be so good if it was good" potentially good, but already strong and interesting and exciting!

(Admittedly, I keep thinking this, then I yet again stumble on some part of SW that's pretty rancid (the racist caricatures) or just kind of boring, and then it's like, "Oh, come on, I was JUST defending you!!! Stop betraying me this way!!!" There's a lot about it that's: "Yikes. Not cool." I don't think anyone needs to overlook those things.)

Trying to put my finger on the magic of SW for me is hard. My mind keeps going back to that Pratchett quote: "It's still magic even if you know how it's done." SW at this point is the work of thousands of artists. A labor of love for so many!!! (And just a job for others, but that's still effort!) Writers, actors, editors, costumers, makeup artists, puppeteers, set builders, matte painters, prop makers, musicians, foley artists, animators, illustrators, choreographers, stunt actors, game developers, and on and on, and science fiction and fantasy makes so much of their work even more obvious as they try to construct whole worlds, which often clash against each other. The creative strings of SW are so visible. They are shamelessly funky and weird and vibrant and working on rule of cool! What it does and what it's trying to do are right there to pluck! So reachable! You can really dig your hands into those plot holes! If you're an artist, the ancient, unwieldy movie magic giant that is SW kind of says to you, "Hey, you could do this too."

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 21!!

AKA Newt and Adam Part II

Rushing to get this up before I need to leave for work, so no edit, no beta. We fall like...like something that falls.

Not ducks.

Okay, let's do this.

Beginning || Previous || Next

**************************************

Adam had been typing for a while.

He had a laptop set up on Aziraphale’s desk, and was alternating between typing and clicking with the usb mouse he’d brought along. Their first step had taken a day or two – setting up wireless internet in the bookshop. Honestly, Newt wasn’t entirely sure what Aziraphale would think of that when he returned, but Adam had insisted it would make things a lot easier, so Newt had done his part to help (arrange the line to be put in, and stay out of the way while the technician did his work). While Adam sat at the laptop, configuring settings and researching VPN services, Newt had been doing everything he could. He’d paced, started reading a few books, taken a walk, taken a second walk, explored Maggie’s shop, bought treats from Nina’s (Adam had been most appreciative of that), and made countless cups of tea, then popped out to the local co-op to replenish the tea bag supply.

All in all, it had been a long day of helping and Newt was beginning to find himself very tired by the effort.

It wasn’t until late that night when Adam finally set the laptop aside, and asked if they could get something exotic for takeaway. After a bit of debate and a game of paper-rock-scissors, they ended up ordering curry, which was about the most exotic thing that Newt’s British stomach was willing to handle after all the stress of the day. As Newt tidied the dishes afterward, he finally asked what had been on his mind all day.

“So do you think this will actually work?”

Adam shrugged from behind his phone screen. “’Bout as well as anything’s likely to, I reckon.”

Newt wasn’t thrilled with that answer. “Okay, but what do we do if it doesn’t?”

Adam set his phone down and raised an eyebrow at Newt, then sighed thoughtfully and let his eyes wander to the ceiling. “Well,” he began, “Then I just suppose we try something else.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” Adam said to the ceiling. He crossed his arms and frowned in consideration. Then he shrugged and sat back up. “I expect we’ll figure that out when we get to it.” He watched Newt’s frown deepen. “If we get to it,” Adam corrected.

“Right,” Newt said doubtfully, “So are we going to try it tonight then?”

“Nah,” Adam replied with a shake of his head, “Gotta let the script finish first.”

“Script? Are you telling me you wrote code? To hack into Heaven?”

“Well yeah,” Adam said, as if it was obvious, “We learn how to code in schools these days you know. I just...used it creatively.”

The sound Newt made conveyed how impressed he was better than any words could. “You,” he said after a moment, “Would be a menace to national security if you ever wanted to be.”

“Tried it already,” Adam said with a smirk, “Wasn’t my thing in the end.”

Newt couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, and thank goodness for that.” He shook his head and put away the last of the dishes before sitting back down at the table. “So are you doing your A Levels in Computer Science then?” He asked.

Adam shrugged. “Well, yeah sort of. Mum and Dad want me to go to Uni for it, but I have other ideas.”

“Like what?” Newt pressed.

“I want to be an author,” Adam said, a small blush crossing his cheeks, “I want to write stories. Lotta good a story can do in the world. An’ I figure that maybe I can inspire people to be better. Save the whales an’ all that.”

Newt smiled. Well if that wasn’t just the most charming thing he’d heard in a while. “I reckon you’d be rather good at that,” he said. Adam looked at him and smiled appreciatively in return.

“Yeah,” he said, “I hope so. Figure it’s worth tryin’ at least.”

And isn’t that just the truth for anything worthwhile in this world.

************************************

The next day they both got up late, but that didn’t stop Adam from rushing to the laptop to check on things while Newt went across the street to grab some sweet buns from Nina. When Newt returned, Adam looked up from the laptop with a satisfied smile.

“It’s ready,” he said. Newt sighed in relief. He’d been half worried that the script would have failed and Adam would have had to have another go at it, but he supposed that Adam probably worried a lot less about that sort of thing than most people.

He set down the box of sticky buns, and went to stand close – but not too close – to Adam. To his surprise, Adam got up from the chair and beckoned Newt to sit down. It took a moment for Newt to register what was happening, before he started stuttering and waving his hands in refusal.

“Oh, oh no Adam, no that’s not a good idea. I really shouldn’t...” Newt trailed off into a strand of mumbled syllables that were all nervousness and no sense.

“It’s okay,” Adam said, “I told it to behave itself.”

The teenage ex-antichrist ushered a very nervous Newt into the chair, and directed him to open the VPN. Newt took a deep breath, put his hand on the mouse, and slowly clicked the icon.

The application opened. Nothing shut down, the power didn’t go out, there were no sparks, there was no fire. It just...opened. It just...worked. Newton Pulsifer, life-long lover of computers who had utterly destroyed every piece of technology he ever touched, had just opened an application on a laptop. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he wiped at them with his sleeve. He couldn’t wait to tell Anathema.

“Sorry,” he sniffed, “It’s just...ah...nevermind, what’s next?” He pushed back against the emotion, he could deal with that later. They had work to do and he had a friend to find. Adam patted his shoulder, and Newt looked over to see Adam was smiling at him kindly.

“It’s alright,” he said, before turning his and Newt’s attention back towards the laptop screen. They spent the next 20 minutes or so going over how to open and use this very special VPN program that Adam had modified to hack past Heaven’s firewalls….or rather, Newt supposed, holy-water-walls? Was that a thing? He supposed it could be. Oh, who cares, he was using a computer successfully for the first time in his life! The world was his oyster, and Heaven too, apparently.

**********************

Muriel heard ringing. They weren’t entirely sure where it was coming from, but they could hear it clear as anything. The scrivener looked up from their work to see that an angel phone had manifested itself on the desk in front of them. Oh, well that hadn’t been there before.

Carefully, Muriel picked up the heavenly device, crystalline and perfect. This kind of device was usually exclusively for use by the archangels, not them, but it was in fact ringing and Muriel had the very specific feeling that it was for them. The angel only hesitated another moment before tapping the screen. The phone came to life, showing Newt and a young boy. Her friend Newt heaved a relieved sigh and smiled.

“Muriel!” he exclaimed, the relief evident in his voice as well, “It’s actually you! It worked!”

“Of course it did,” said the boy next to him, “You do know who you called, right?” Newt laughed in response. Muriel didn’t understand any of it, but they found themselves laughing too and, to their surprise, crying small tears.

“Hello Newt,” Muriel said into the phone, blinking away the tears, “How’ve you been? I’ve missed you all.”

“Muriel,” Newt began again, “Where are you?”

Well, that was odd. Muriel stammered a bit in surprise. “Well, I’m in Heaven of course! I thought Metatron told you!”

“The Metatron?!” replied Newt, “I knew it. Damn. Muriel, I am so sorry. I never should have insisted we leave the bookshop. This is all my fault.”

Muriel shook their head. “No, no it’s alright. Apparently I left Heaven in a proper state! I’ve been buried in paperwork ever since I got back.” They turned the phone around so that Newt could see the large stacks of files that never seemed to get any smaller.

“Um, hullo, Muriel is it?” came the voice of the boy, “My name is Adam, and honestly, I think the Metatron’s been lying to you.”

“What?” Muriel turned the phone screen back so the boy – Adam – could see the confusion on their face. “But...why would he do that? I mean, he’s an angel, I don’t think he can lie.”

“Oh, angels can lie,” Adam replied, “You can trust me on that one.”

“But...I don’t even know who you are,” Muriel said, squinting into the phone. They boy smirked mischievously.

“Honestly, I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you,” he hesitated before adding, “Or that you’d want to know for that matter. You’re rather the good sort.”

Muriel wasn’t sure what to think about that, but they did know that they were getting frustrated with all of these cryptic messages, the lying, the half-truths, everyone tip-toeing around them as if they were stupid. So, the Angel Muriel, Scrivener 37th Order, Inspector Constable of Earth, steeled their gaze and looked as straight at the boy as the phone would let them.

“Try me.”

****************************************

Getting Muriel to believe that the Metatron had lied was not all that difficult in the end. Newt had told them how worried everyone was. It was harder for them to understand that the ex-antichrist was helpful and kind. In the end, they decided that, now that Muriel was able to communicate, they would stay in Heaven and see if they could feed information to Newt through the VPN. That way, they would hopefully know what the Metatron was up to. But Newt made Muriel Pinky Promise that they would contact him if they were ever in actual danger. When Newt eventually ended the call and disconnected from the VPN, he felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

That is, until an idea struck him. One that sent a bolt of anxiety shooting through his body.

“Oh! Adam!” he said, turning to the teenager, “What do I do when you leave? I mean, you need to take your laptop with you.”

Adam shook his head. “Nah, see this is my old one. It’s yours now, you can keep it.” The boy glanced at the laptop on the desk. “And if it ever gives you any trouble, you just let me know.”

With the last of his worries answered, Newt felt tears in his eyes again, and this time he let them fall.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

[harmonysanreads]

Do you have any yandere blogs to recommend?

Oho, you just gave me an excuse to fangirl >:) I took my time with this ehe

Note : You might already know some of these blogs if you've been in the yandere genshin community for some time but here we go! Please read their dni/byf/rules before you decide to follow or interact with them, too.

@ddarker-dreams [Yandere multi-fandom]

If it wasn't for Miss Lock's writings I probably would still misunderstand the yandere genre lol, she just makes it AN ART. You can tell how much effort she puts into her work, too! She makes me want to both be an obedient housewife towards the characters and to strangle them ;—; Her Deep Sea is such a masterpiece—I've literally never seen THIS much cultural accuracy in any fanfic and it inspired me to do my own research, too!

@yandere-romanticaa [Yandere multi-fandom]

The face of Yandere Tumblr tbh. Her works always make me end up hanging by the brainrot cliff for days and even WEEKS lmao and I respect her so so so much for helping smaller blogs <333

@bye-bye-sunbird [Yandere Genshin Impact]

The legend, the pioneer of The Capitano Agenda™️!! I personally really love her Spoil of War series — somehow, she makes me think twice about characters I wouldn't have otherwise given much thought towards. (*cough* osial *cough*)

@glimmeringtwilight [Yandere Genshin Impact]

There's just— I can't quite explain it but their writing is just so beautiful??? They can take some of the simplest stuff and execute in such a demure manner o.o

@shumidehiro [Yandere multi-fandom]

I'm a big fan of her Yan!Pantalone works, the way she writes him is so charming<3

@chococolte [Yandere Genshin Impact, sagau]

Her Yan!Al haitham works are something else honestly, easily intensifies my alhaitham brainrot.

@jessamine-rose [Yandere multi-fandom]

Complexity through simplicity, she'll easily charm you with her writing. She loves tender but twisted endings and executes them wonderfully through her works. Her Harbinger fics are absolutely phenomenal. I have immense respect for not only her magical prose, but also the fact that she can write so much about characters with little to no screentime xD

@yestrday [Yandere multi-fandom]

10/10 AUs! Very easy to follow but delectable nonetheless<3

@amarias-yandere-genshin [Yandere Genshin Impact]

They've been offline for some time now, I believe, but I still recommend checking them out! They've got some really good content

@moyazaika [Yandere Original]

They create some of the most jaw-dropping, heart-stealing Yandere ocs and their prose can easily keep you hooked. My personal favorite is their Yandere!King OC. I must say, Genie writes fear really well <3

@teabutmakeitazure [Yandere multi-fandom]

If I had to recommend one writer who could transform someone into a Childe simp, it'd be her. She comes up with the most creative and delicious brainrots that keep me up at night <3 I particularly admire the way she weaves dialogues :> Her Magenta Die, Cyan Bullet series for Yan!Aventurine is a masterpiece!

@wishluc [Yandere multi-fandom]

I find the reflection of ‘brevity is the soul of wit’ in their writing — how they express so much in such short drabbles is beyond me. Her Yandere!Lilia works are my favorite :>

@throwaway-yandere [Yandere multi-fandom]

Reading Ansy's works is like watching a cool science experiment unfold (I'm not joking). From absolutely show-stopping fics to a literal game — they can do it all. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to read their works for free <3

@vivalabunbun [Yandere Genshin Impact]

Their works are literal adventures, there isn't a single fic by them that I haven't liked. If I had to recommend one writer that can make you fall in love with Alhaitham, it'd be them! Their writing style is straightforward and easy to follow but it manages to touch the heart in such a way that there is a good chance you'll never forget what you've read. I have nothing but praises for them <3

@yandere-wishes [Yandere multi-fandom]

Incredibly magical writing style and a very creative person! Her Do Not Weep Hydro Dragon and Analysis On The Damsel In Distress Trope are my favorite works!

@penguinlop [Yandere Genshin Impact]

Absolutely scrumptious writing, the themes and motifs that are intertwined in her works will leave a lasting impression on you as well. My personal favorite fic by them is Ignorance Is Bliss !

@mayullla [Yandere multi-fandom, original]

She has an amazing glossary of works for both different fandoms and Yandere Ocs! Writing style is flowy and you can tell she's always experimenting with something new <3

@brynn-lear [Yandere multi-fandom]

Their works will never bore you, I guarantee it. Aside from their absolutely delectable writing style, they also do illustrations! Their Who Drank It? game is a must-try. I feel like one of these days, I'll see them on the app store lol

@dottiro [Yandere Genshin Impact]

Her Hide & Seek is such a unique work! She took such an interesting concept, successfully integrated it with Yandere!Dottore and turned it into something so hauntingly alluring. I've never read something like this before.

@stickyspeckledlight [Yandere multi-fandom]

Now this one will scratch the brain in a certain way and leave imprints for a long time. Her Destroyed Onset series for Yandere!Aventurine is a jaw-dropping piece. It'll confuse you, amuse you, bewilder you and you'll like it.

@ataraxiaspainting [Yandere multi-fandom]

Aya's Icarus and The Chauffeur fics are my absolute favorites! The writing is extremely catchy, keeps your attention hooked and you can really feel the writer's control of everything through the word-play. In Icarus she takes the classic bird-captor analogy and spins into something remarkable and in The Chauffeur she paints the dire circumstances of reader so splendidly!

There are many other talented blogs out there, of course. These are just the ones I'm most familiar with :>

Last Updated : September 3, 2024

[rubypasha1]

I’m going to be honest and say I had some bad experiences in the Transformers fandom. I wrote fics for it, admittedly very bad but they were my first. Had to learn somewhere. Thing is I enjoyed the writing, actually I loved it and it made me realize my passion for writing fiction.

But that didn’t stop the bad experiences. Mostly people. I won’t go into detail but for the love of god please don’t ask or encourage a 12 year old, who has clearly stated they are one, to write smut. And don’t send them very explicit, dead dove do not eat fics without at least staying “hey, there’s some messed up stuff in here so just be warned” instead of “Here’s some inspiration!” And constantly asking when smut will be written.

I swear Ao3 saved my creativity. I pretty completely left Wattpad after that, didn’t touch transformers content again till recently this year.

And I’ve made a decision. I’m going to write a transformers fic. Not now, only next year it’s my last year of school and stuff is hectic. But I’m going to write it. To prove to myself I can write a good transformers fic with good characterization. And a reader or oc that has a bit more depth.

Anywho, @ss-shitstorm fic “Breaking Bread” heavily inspired me and actually was the reason I got back into the Ttansforemrs fandom. I highly recommend it it’s one of my new top favorites and has a terrifying attention to detail. Great characterization, hilarious reader insert that’s basically a very stressed out certain magical princess who’s got a knack for science and baking. And a crazy dog. And sassy bird. Who likes Fluttershy. It’s amazing.

Did I mention there’s actual science stuff in it? Stochiometry my nemesis.

And it’s got me thinking about making my own. Maybe more of an oc fic but still written like ny other reader ones.

I’m thinking of doing one where a human is put in a cybertronian body, TFP universe. They have basic knowledge of TFP, watched it but couldn’t remember everything. But they knew enough. Definitely enough o know that cybertron being alive was before the war.

They’re placed in a cybertronian body before the deception uprising. Still around the time where Functionisin ruled and they were in a kind of ‘presenter’/‘video camera’ alt mode.

Except they have anxiety, often freeze up with a panic enduring lack of social skills driven from their natural personality and the fact they’re a human soul shoved into a metal body. Completely alone and forced to adapt to a society that bases value on an alt mode.

The were an artist while human and over time through constant stress and a lack of familiarity with materials on cybertronian, they loose their love of painting and creating art.

But it’s reignited. They find a underground club where mecs and Femmas of many alt modes come together to anonymously submit art ranging from poetry to music and more. And that’s when they find it, a piece of writing that captures their soul. Something so deep and beautiful they feel their own spark reigniting, and they try their hand at creating again. Even if small.

They keep going to the club, building up courage to place art pieces on view. They don’t get much attention, except for a mech who seems curious and stands beside them as they pick apart every little detail.

They talk for a bit. Share a few critics, nothing too crazy. Turns out he’s the one who wrote that lovely piece of writing that inspired them. They turn around, gasping and thanking him for creating something so inspiring-

Megatron stands before them.

Or rather, Megatronus.

The gladiator had just begun his days of battle in the arena but the end was inevitable, the reader knew who he was and fled in terror leaving a confused (and proud, it felt good to know his words inspired at least one person) Megatronus behind.

Readers in a panic, but it doesn’t end there. Their ‘job’ forces them to begin recording the gladiator fights, particularly the rising star Megatronus leading to the eventual meet up of the two again.

But it doesn’t stop there. Soundwave came soon after and, shockingly enough, Ratchet after some unfortunate events (who is far flirtier and leaves the reader thinking “Oh my god he’s so smooth but whyyyyy”)

And it gets worse. Megatronus clearly wishes to se ether atrworks, one of the few along with Soundwave who sees something more than just a waste of time or hobby.

A relationship is formed, tentive on the readers side. They see him and Soundwave less and less like the terrifying deceptions they would become but rather who stood before them. Mechs bashed by a cruel system, they’re creativity forced to writher in their sparks painfully, smothered by a need to fight for the entertainment of others or die by the claws of the system.

They care about them, they eventually realise in horror. And on an unfortunate night they broke down and revealed to Soundwave a horrible truth. War was coming, and they knew what he would become. What All of them would. They beg him, plead to not take things too far. Life was precious, organic or not and taking those of innocents . . .

Soundwave was an outlier himself, but he remained somewhat skeptical. It wa shard to not belive them, the raw emotions they displayed showcased fear and he was good at reading others frames.

The little cybertronian was odd, but intriguing. A friend he had grown to care for, to wish to protect as his closest companion Megatronus insisted, over time. But if there was truth to their words they must know things that could endanger all of cybertron. Soundwave didn’t see himself as a activist nor rebellious but even he couldn’t deny the waters were churning.

Things happen, yada yada yada, reader gets kidnapped and put into stasis just as the war starts and wakes up many years later to the face of a human child se knew very well from a certain TV series.

All out panic ensures

OR, the other fic idea:

Human wakes up as a vehicon . Says “nope”, tries to get away and accidentally becomes the leader of a vehicon rights movement.

The autobots it’s are confused, the decepticons are angry and the reader just wants to get some dogs or cats dammit.

Of course, a dog does gain interest in them. And by that I mean a terrifying metal dragon who decides this trembling little con would be the perfect way to help him attain details on how to resurrect his kin.

He is very mistaken. Reader can’t even be in the same room as one of the deception lieutenants without rattling like a tin can.

Honestly don’t know if it would be a Soundwave or Megatron x reader. Definitely will be friendship developing there. Maybe both? I’m a sucker for tall dark and creepy guys who have a soft spot for tiny

Second idea is just all the vehicons lining up to get names form reader. All very human ones. . “Bill” “John” Matthew” Thomas” “My names already Steve” “Jenny” “Bucket”

And Reader is just stressing cause they’re not running a rebellion or anything. They’re running a daycare for a bunch of guys who do not care about their own safety and lives at all and she constantly has to tell them, no you cannot go to the Autobits the will shoot you on site. No, wanting to sacrifice yourself isn’t a good idea- CANDICE GET AWAY FROM THE FRAGGING WRECKER GOD DAMMIT DO NONE OF YOH UAVE ANY WILL TO LIVE?

Chaos ensures

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

Continuity and Tonal Shifts in Season Ten

This is gonna be a really long meta describing some of my frustrations with the current writing decisions. I'm approaching these as someone who loves the show and wants it to succeed, and I'm not making any sweeping "the show is problematic" or "the writers are bad" statements, just that the writing decisions lately have been poor in my opinion and I need to express my thoughts on that.

So as a lot of people may or may not know, Fink and Cranor alternate writing episodes, and according to Patreon, they have minimal communication about what is going to happen in the next episode, giving the other relative creative freedom. This often works when the style of Night Vale is random, disjointed, and with a lot of left-field plot devices, but with this current plot line so grounded in literal stuff and reality, it is SO FRUSTRATING. Especially because Fink mentioned in a patreon post that he only backreads the past five episodes to maintain continuity - something that clearly does not work when your show is over 230 episodes long, has had tons of live shows, and expanded into three books. I feel like the last three episodes have had a very off-putting disconnect, and that makes this writing decision REALLY REALLY OBVIOUS in a glaring can't-overlook-it-anymore way.

There's no way to know which writer wrote which episode, but we'll say "odd writer" and "even writer" for continuity's sake. I have my personal opinion about which writer wrote what, but I don't want to share that here. It could be that Fink is odd writer and Cranor is even writer, or it could be the other way around, but what matters is that odd writer and even writer didn't communicate.

227, written by odd writer: Blake lures Cecil away with a made-up sob story and Cecil departs the station. Lubelle comes to the radio station and gives a long speech about Night Vale, condescends about Cecil's hold over the town, explains away the weather, says outright that she's taking over, and leaves with the ominous "show over, Night Vale, show over" closing tag. What's going to happen? Find out in two weeks!

228, written by even writer: Actually she just briefly broke into the radio station and left without a struggle and Blake was just tricking Cecil and let him go, and now Cecil is back and Lubelle hasn't taken over anything yet, nor kidnapped him. But science is going to be made illegal to stop Dr. Lubelle and the Univeristy, and that will really mess with Carlos! What's going to happen? Find out in two weeks!

229, written by odd writer: Science is illegal but the University decided to just straight up ignore it and continue with all of their stuff using a bunch of technical work-arounds and sheer numbers to overwhelm the town, so it doesn't really affect anyone other than Carlos, who by the way is barely in an episode that's supposed to be about his struggles. Anyway, Lubelle brought all of her faculty into town, so that's probably bad. What will they do? Find out in two weeks!

It's starting to feel like we're reliving the Star Wars sequel trilogy, except there's two JJ Abrams and neither of them is talking to each other. Every episode ends on this intense buildup and then it immediately fizzles away at the start of the next one. It's like getting edged by someone who keeps pulling their hand away so they can go on their phone and type "actually everything is fine now" before they get back to it.

There's one other thing I want to mention about this odd writer/even writer dilemma, which is episode 225. This was an odd writer episode, and in it, Lubelle asks Cecil to come down to the University for some "tests", an offer that he finds very offensive, but one that's punctuated by Dr. Jones snickering that Station Management has been explained away. It really feels like odd writer is trying to set up plotline where the University becomes interested in Cecil, whether that's for his connection to the town or his relationship with Carlos, and even writer just does not want to let that happen.

There's even a bit of a tonal shift, where odd writer paints Dr. Jones as cunning, "Couldn't be station management. They don't even exist. They've been, well... they've been explained." (episode 225) "Looks like Blake succeeded in tricking that fool away from his mic," (episode 227) and then even writer does an about-face and makes him cowardly instead, forcing odd writer to go along with that characterization; so odd writer decides to just write him out of the story without really doing anything.

The lack of communication between the two writers is becoming more and more obvious, and for the fans, more and more frustrating. There are also so many great fan-assembled resources that demonstrate every episode a character or plot point has appeared in, so I feel like it shouldn't be that hard for the writers to find their own system of continuity - or hell, just borrow ours and then throw in a "extra thank to the contributors of the Night Vale wikia" in the credits or something. You guys do this for a living! Is it so much to ask if we'd like you to be good at it?

[toomanygoldfish]

nishinoys has always been scraping up his hands for as long as he could remember. One of his earliest memories is home learning to ride a bike, but there were so many attempts of crashing into the ground and nicking up his hands

being a child who was generally very bored and never engaged in the curriculum, he would fidget with his hands a lot. With his fingers running over his knuckles he naturally picked at the scabs on his hands

as he grew older and gave more thought into his appearance, slicking up his hair, dying it, and generally taking better care of himself in general; he found himself resenting the scars on his hands

however he never seemed to give up the habit of picking at the scabs that formed there from consistently throwing himself at the floor. The scars were never big, but they were enough to drag his confidence down. until he met you

the tow of you had been seat partners who were set to work on a project with each other. It was a math class so you spent a lot of time writing with pens.

one thing he noticed about you very quickly was that when you were bored (which was quite often) and you had a pen, nothing would stop you from drawing.

Most of the time it was on yourself, but every once in a while he would come to his desk and find a sketchbook draped over the desk, papers were starting to tear out of the book, and there seemed to be a science paper mixed in the pile of papers

realizing that he has no room to actually put his stuff down, not that he had much in the first place, he tentatively calls out;

“Hey, could you scoot your stuff over a bit?”

you look up at him, look down at you stuff, then try to shove it all on your side of the desk, fumbling with a stack of papers to make way for him.

you don’t look up as you attempt to move your stuff, but you do mumble out a quiet

“oh yeah sure,” you fumble with a pencil and it lands right in frount of his feet. Both you and him go for the pencil at the same time, and try to pull your hands away at the same time.

He ends up grabbing the pencil for you and handing it to you, you grab it a continue to shove stuff into binders and folder, with no apparent organization.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for it to get this spread out.” As you shove the last paper in to your backpack your sleeve of your jacket slides up your arm, revealing an elaborate ind drawing of what seems to be a koi pond.

Awkwardly sitting down he points to your arm.

“what’s that on your arm?”

you glance down at you arm, and pull the sleeve up to get a better look at the drawing.

“this?” He nods his head “Umm, I think it’s a fish.”

he furrows his brow slightly

“you think?”

your eyes go wide and you forget how to speak for a second.

“I-uh- well there is a scar here at it kinda looks like a turtle, so I drew some fish to go with him.” you bring your arm closer to his face and point with your other hand to your scar. He leans in slightly to inspect it. leaning back he meets your gaze. “do you do that often?”

you tilt your head ever so slightly to the right

“what?”

“draw on your scars?”

he self consciously moved his hand on top of his other one, rubbing at the scars there.

“yea kinda”

“do you think you would teach me”

“well there is not much to teach, you just kinda let the ink flow?” You blush and rub the back of your neck in embarrassment.

He looks slightly dejected before responding quietly

“I don’t think I have the creative ability for that”

Noticing the sad tone you speak carefully

“I could draw for you, as long as the scar is on your arm or hand”

he moves his hand around to show it to you

“I have quite a few, take your pick”

“If I may ask… how?”

“I scrapped up my hands then I pick at the scabs”

You nod sympathetically

“I used to do that too! What helped me was a fidget ring, or just a ring in general, it’s great to twist around your fingers. here’s one!”

you pull a ring off your finger an hand it to him, he slowly slips it onto his pointer.

“oh… thank you”

“of course! Do you have a scar that you want me to draw on? If it doesn’t bother you of course”

“no not at all! Here’s one”

he points to a random scar on his hand you start drawing as the teacher starts he lecture.

the bell rings and you jump from you seat, with Noya a goodbye and rush to your next class. When Noya finally looks down at his hand, he finds a peculiar little bird, the same one that he sees one a hair pin of yours.

——

hi mani here! I wrote this at like 2-3am ish. So if there are any mistakes please ignore them. I was also racing the battery on my phone of if I could finish or it would die first.

[stephsycamore]

Hello friends. Yet another post on a topic literally no one here signed up for but the blog is about my hyperfixation of the month so here we are

I have been reading dramione. I know in my last post i said i was ki da over dramione after a couple of fics because i find the pairing too toxic but i only kinda lied because i have just reread the like 4 dramione fics i found and liked and now i will review them. Technically i have read/started more than 4 but i won't be commenting on fics i didn't like because that isn't fair to the writers.

The first one was manacled. Which i know what a fucking reintroduction to the fandom. But i am no young newbie. I used to read and rewrite A LOT of harry potter fic and while its still fuck jk rowling, she doesn't financially benefit from fic and i heard years ago that she doesn't like fic so. I hope its all a big fuck u to her.

Anyway, manacled. Wow!!! What the fuck???? It has lived rent free in my head ever since. I literally cannot stop thinking about it. If ever i reentered the harry potter fic world let it be known that it would be so i can write fanfic of this fanfic. A couple points - manacled is kinda overly long and would benefit from an editor/beta reader, but I heard senlinyu wrote it on her phone while nursing a baby and just???? Idk what her day job is, but that woman needs to be doing creative writing mfas, writers workshops, residencies, whatever. That is extraordinary creative talent.

I think the first part with hermione in the manor was a bit overly long and too torture porn ish. A lot of the scenes bordered into the unnecessarily gratituous. But overall, it was well plotted, well written, and gut wrenching. The last section takes my breath away

The second fic i read was Remain Nameless. And while i kinda don't love smut (it makes me a little uncomfy) i think remain nameless is a perfrct example of fanfic as a genre. Within fic, there are obviously genres, but there are stylistic elements and things that I think makes fanfiction a genre in itself. Remain Nameless is an exploration of character that goes beyond the confines of conventional or traditionally publish-able story structure. It is too long, too drawn out, too indulgent to be a traditionally published story. If i swap out the names and details in Manacled or Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in love (up next) out, its a probably close to a stand alone novel, but Remain Nameless relies on you knowing and already caring about Draco and Hermione. I don't mean that disparagingly at all, I just think sometimes people don't realize that fanfic should be different from traditionally published novels and that is a benefit of the genre. I think Remain Nameless is great. Its an indulgent, fluffy read that takes two broken people and slowly puts them back together again. Its like a hug in book format.

My next one is DMATMOOBIL!! I loved this one. And the author??? You cannot convince me that this fic was not written by someone with literal years of publishing experience in contemporary romance. No way. Its too good. Not just in a good writing way. Manacled is good in an unfiltered, raw talent way, but DMATMOOBIL is polished. The plot is perfectly structured and then each chapter within that is perfectly structured. I loved it. It wad witty, funny, heartfelt, and exciting. Not sure what more I can say about it. It reads like published fiction both in its polish and readability, and I think of all the fics I read has the best worldbuilding. It is truly exciting to read about the possibilities of magical and muggle science colliding in this book and bringing their world to the 21st century.

The last fic i read was Green Light by SereneMusafir. I thought it was so good but would benefit from being split into two maybe even three books. Green Light features a journalist coming to interview Draco many years after the events of the book, so that kinda complicates splitting it up, but as it stands, the story parts are too vast and thematically disparate to be one book. The first part has Draco and Hermione on an expedition in the desert to find a archeological myth and the writing is extraoridinary. Its poetic and cinematic. But I think at times it all tries to do too much. Like I said, the whole thing needs to be split up but each chapter also needs to be a bit shorter. Again, I don't mean cutting content, but rather restructuring. As it is, I read an incredible scene, but then there's like 5 more scenes of something else, and by the time I'm at the end of the chapter, I've kinda forgotten what amazing prose I read earlier on. Things get lost in this way. Beautiful passages buried.

I think two or three books would also allow each thematic section to be explored better. Idk i thought about this one a lot. I likely will not reread Green Light the way I have reread the others on this list, but other than Manacled, it is the one I think about most. Its the most ambitious plot wise and it kinda got lost in that ambition but I think it has so much potential and was over all very good.

Anyway. That is the end to this book review no one asked for. I will likely not be reading more dramione. So here ends that brief of excellent phase.

[stepswowdsen]

【KagePro】 KuroEne AU: KuroEne's Amusement Park Date + Kuroha pretends to join the Mekakushi Dan 🖤💙

KuroEne AU: Scenarios

Dialogue Scripts (Suggestive dialogue)

Kuroha goes to the Amusement Park with Ene

Kuroha/Saeru pretends to join the Mekakushi Dan, while getting intimate with Ene. Shintaro accidentally stumbles in on KuroEne's intimacy and learns about their relationship.

I originally wrote these rambles on 8/29/2024 and 9/1/2024 but forgot to post them here

I put these rambles under the cut as usual!

KuroEne AU: Dialogue Scripts

(CW: Suggestive)

Based on an idea I had where Ene asks Kuroha about his motives. He then tells her he's been with the Enes of previous routes. Ene dares him to make her feel good, and Kuroha accepts the challenge.

Ene recognizes that she might not be able to ever truly beat him, but that doesn't mean she'll ever stop trying.

Ene reflects on her experiences with Kuroha/Saeru.

KuroEne AU: Unsorted dialogue scripts.

I'll post my Outer Science arts and Outer Science MV analysis rambles soon in the coming days (since I always try to find new things to say when it comes to analyzing my fave MVs).

Whenever I get the time.

For now I'll just post this since I forget which dialogue scripts I have and haven't posted

Both in terms of art and writing, KuroEne really gets my creative juices flowing, so I'm so grateful to this pair (and my other faves too) for getting me out of the rut of never posting anything. I'm slowly getting more comfortable with posting my art WIPs too.

KuroEne AU: A monologue snippet from Ene. I want to write more scenes like this ^^

I think it's super fun to delve into and explore her feelings and the kinds of insecurities and loneliness she tries to keep beneath the surface.

How in Manga Route 2, she admits to Shintaro that having so much fun spending time with a friend made her start to feel like she didn't deserve it... Weh weh weh ;__;

...

Kuroha/Saeru uses the pronouns 僕 (Boku, "I") and 君 (Kimi, "You") in Outer Science, and the rougher masc pronouns 俺 (Ore, "I") and お前 (Omae, "You") in the Kagerou Daze manga.

I made him default to using Ore (俺) and Omae (お前) in my own dialogue scripts since the rougher masc pronouns fit an arrogant chara like him, but I imagine that he probably does use 僕 (Boku) and 君 (Kimi) if he wants to appear softer to Ene.

It'd be familiar to her since Haruka and Konoha both use 僕 (Boku) and 君 (Kimi)

...

I don't have a favourite character to write dialogue scripts for, since I enjoy writing for all of my meow meow mf and wifey faves. But writing villain charas is seriously cathartic for me :)

The dialogue is sooo fun to write for villain/antagonist charas.

I excel at writing my faves most, so other charas' roles tend to be rather minimized/minimal (or mainly just cameos, if they're there), since I usually just focus on the ship itself in my ship AUs.

Kuroha takes Ene to the Amusement Park

Kagerou Daze Manga: Ch. 9 - Shintaro and Ene

I decided to put the pages for context just in case my non-KagePro mutuals wanna tune into these rambles ^^

I didn't get to write all of what I wanted today but I got most of it down so I'll just post what I got for now

One of the ideas I had that I forgot to talk about was Ene getting Kuroha to take her to the amusement park. Ene gets excited talking about how, while she was surfing the web earlier when the android body was recharging, that she found out about an Amusement park attraction and wants to go with him.

I imagine that Kuroha decides to play nice prior to the fateful day of August 15th (in which he plans to enact the "plan" or "Tragedy." Like he acts more tame/normal on purpose, and holds back, and decides to go along with his partner's whims.

Ene goes like, "Take me to the amusement park!!!" And she gets excited when he agrees. I assume they're in a Route where he's made enough improvements that the battery can last anywhere from several hours ~ a full day instead of just an hour or few.

At some point during the Amusement park trip, Ene innerly thinks to herself with flustered, panicky thoughts, like, "W-w-wait why is my face getting all red??? Maybe it's because I'm just embarrassed by this guy's teasing??? Yeah!!! That must be it!!!"

She thought of it as going with like, a friend, before, but she thinks about the fact that it's just the two of them here and that this IS the person she has an intimate relationship with and thinks to herself, "HOLD ON!!! IS THIS A DATE!?!?" And cuz Ene is so easy to read, Kuroha can guess her inner turmoil and just gets amused.

Ene pulls him by the arm and makes Kuroha to come along with her to all the amusement park attractions, and he lets her. They probably go on stuff like the mini boat rides and other attractions.

Kuroha just reacts like (...) the whole time while on the roller coaster ride, like the completely calm type that doesn't react at all, he just watches Ene's excited reactions of "Yippee!!!" (>v<)

Kuroha comments that it's good that Ene seems to be enjoying herself, and Ene tells him that she's never had the chance to go to an amusement park before and that she's having LOTS of fun!!! And that she's glad that he is here with her.

Ene goes like, "Come onnnnn, carry me!!!" And he carries his fussy needy gf, while making a teasing quip that she acts awfully spoiled. And she just pouts like "It's fine, it's fine!!!" (>3<)

When he thinks about it, Kuroha picks up on the fact that back when she was Takane, she'd spend most of her time cooped up in her room at home playing video games, and probably didn't get the chance to go to an amusement park (also due to her chronic illness too). So the bright and peppy exterior Ene displays is over compensation for her regrets and an opportunity to do the things she didn't get to before

At one point, Ene wants Kuroha to win prizes for her at a booth/stand selling plushies by throwing darts into a target marker, and Ene tells him she wants him to win prizes for her. When Kuroha throws the darts, it hits the center (red bull's eye) perfectly.

There's probably also a game with hitting moving targets as well, and he hits them all perfectly and wins the prizes that Ene wants. And Ene's like, "Wow~ You're good at this! Throwing darts, I mean!"

And Kuroha tells her, "Naturally. This much is child's play. I am quite skilled at hunting down moving targets..."

He has plenty of practice at it. Ene takes it as a video game thing cuz Ene makes him play video games together and her faves are shooter types, but ahahaha, there's a much darker secret to that. After that, Ene is carrying a fluffy bunny plushie.

It'd also be fun to think about the Amusement Park Scenario with KonoEne too? KonoEne where Konoha just noms on cotton candy while staying close to her, and she just gets all blushy and huffy at him.

Also with the darts scenario, Konoha wouldn't hold back (cuz of how dense and airheaded he is), so him throwing the dart just creates a mini crater in the wall.

Like it plays out much differently with KuroEne ofc.

...

I was just thinking about it but I really want to write dialogue scripts for an Amusement Park scenario in my KuroEne AU.

Basically Ene tells Kuroha she's always wanted to go to the amusement park (since she didn't get the chance to before) and that she wanted to go with a friend (Shintaro), but said friend was a total shut-in and not the type to want to go outside.

So this is the perfect opportunity for her to go with someone!

Ene has a faint blush on her cheeks and pushes her sleeves together as she goes like, "I've been meaning to ask! I was wondering if you would… take me to the Amusement Park?" And Kuroha agrees to take her.

While there, Ene tells him she's having lots of fun! Kuroha muses to himself about the irony. In Manga Route 1, he ended the MekaDan at this very same park. The irony isn't lost on him.

But it's cute to see Ene enjoying herself and having fun and he finds her behaviour naive and foolish for readily accepting him and trusting him so easily, but also innocent and endearing.

Kuroha/Saeru pretends to join the Mekakushi Dan

I just had an idea like y'know what would be a fun idea for a KuroEne AU Route.

I just thought about it since, my KuroEne AU routes usually have KuroEne hang out alone together in a secluded/abandoned building or real estate just to themselves.

But I also thought that it WOULD be interesting

If the Mekakushi Dan doesn't get the chance to meet Konoha, but Kuroha pretends to be an Eye Ability user and "joins" them just out of curiosity.

The MekaDan think they've invited a new member, in reality they have the enemy in their hideout. The irony isn't lost on him.

He's good at playing pretend.

Something that he can pull off because he's an Eye Ability snake, he can make his eyes glow red. And he just pretends his Eye Ability is Awakening Eyes

The other Mekakushi Dan members accept him like, "Welcome to the Mekakushi Dan!" (:D)

And upon getting this warm greeting from everyone, he goes from (…) and slowly smirks like, "Thank you for having me."

…

Like, Kuroha/Saeru pretends to be apart of the Mekakushi Dan and be "one of them" to find new ways to spice up the game and make things fun. It's something different cuz he's usually used to playing the game alone with Ene, now they have "spectators" around them

Though obviously they'll be alone for their intimacy.

Shintaro almost feels relieved to see someone like Kuroha/Saeru that can manage to tease Ene so easily and make her flustered, it's like getting payback or sweet revenge for Ene always teasing him.

…

I thought of one scenario that'd be fun where it's like… KuroEne are alone in the MekaDan's hideout together, the rest of the members are still out and have yet to come back.

Shintaro comes back earlier than the others (earlier than expected) cuz it's been a long time since he's been in the summer heat (as a shut-in NEET), so he's not used to it.

Shintaro wonders where the others (KuroEne) are while thinking to himself. While checking one of the rooms, he sees that the door is slightly open and catches a glimpse of the view of Kuroha leaning in to kiss Ene through the space in the door that's open.

He just immediately backs away from the door and freaks out innerly to himself. Then Shintaro thinks back on all the instances of Ene actually getting embarrassed/flustered by Kuroha/Saeru's teasing, which is so unlike her usual self, and things start to make sense.

Irt Kuroha/Saeru, he's a Snake so he can sniff things out way better than a human can, he probably smelled the scent of another person in the air when Shintaro came in through the door. But it doesn't matter to him if anyone finds out about their r/s.

Shintaro: (WHAT…. NO WAY!!! THERE'S JUST NO WAY!!! AHHHH! IT'S NOT MY BUSINESS! I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING!)

Shintaro: (Come to think of it… I just thought it was fun to see Ene being the one getting teased.. I never thought there'd be something like THAT between them!!!)

Shintaro: (BUT I DIDN'T THINK THERE WAS ANYTHING GOING ON BETWEEN THEM… I MEAN!!! THAT ENE!?!? WHO USUALLY ACTS SO SPOILED AND SELFISH!!! SUDDENLY ACTING ALL SHY!?!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME???)

Inspiration

Made these rambles after being inspired by Feila's KuroEne chatroom style posts

Feila's KuroEne posts 😭 CRYINGGG /POS

Ene managing to pester and tease Saeru is a huge feat she should feel accomplished. I think it's so funny to imagine Shintaro being the (unfortunate) spectator of KuroEne's shenanigans together.

Ene being bratty on purpose to rile up Saeru is a fun concept :3

Especially when he's usually a more calm/level-headed character so it would take a lot but I think my wife has it in her 👍

C: Omg

M: THIS IS EXACTLY THE DYNAMIC I HAVE IN MY HEAD FOR KUROENE HELPP

Me: We should have Ene acting bratty enough to Saeru for him to want to tease her back in exchange :3

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

hello! o/

not sure if you're still taking requests, but if so, i'd love to req. the bachelors with an artist s/o!

thank you for your time either way!<3

Finally! My reblog of that anon summoning post actually work- I mean hi, anon! 👋 Yes, I'm still taking requests ☺️

I hope you don't mind if I write about SVE bachelors too. If you don't know about SVE mod, don't worry, I'll separate the bachelors' answer to vanilla game and Stardew valley expanded mod so you don't confuse them.

Thanks for the ask! Enjoy!

Stardew Valley Bachelors with artist!Farmer s/o:

Alex:

Alex knows that his partner is incredibly talented, so he wasn't surprised when he found out that the Farmer turned out to be a great artist. Another fact about Alex's partner, he will tell everyone and brag about how good his s/o is.

Sometimes he will joke that the Farmer pays so much attention to the object of drawing that he can even become jealous.

Alex doesn't hesitate to flex in front of the Farmer, showing his muscles and giving them a reason to draw him in all his glory.

Despite his pride, he blushes a little when he sees how beautifully his s/o drew Alex. Comment from s/o that in reality Alex will always be prettier anyway will turn the athlete into a tomato.

He really likes your summer seascapes.

It still remains a mystery to him how s/o manages to combine farming and painting at the same time.

Alex always supports your hobby, even if he doesn't understand some types of art like abstractionism.

Sam:

Wow, he didn't know that they draw so well, it's so cool!

Constantly asks for permission to look at the Farmer's sketchbook, if they don't mind of course.

Sam will be delighted with how beautifully and in detail his s/o draws the characters of his favorite comics and video games.

Sometimes Sam will ask Farmer to draw something funny on his hand. It looks like a beautiful tattoo. Jodi politely asks the Farmer to stop drawing in her eldest son's arms, as Sam refuses to wash his hands before eating, afraid to wipe the drawing off his skin.

He will hang all their drawings on the wall to admire during relaxation or musical rehearsal.

Some drawings he will keep in a special box as a treasure.

Please don't show him food and drink still lifes - their s/o paints food so beautifully and believably that he immediately wants to eat something. He laughs at Farmer's joke when they warn Sam not to inadvertently eat the painting itself.

Sebastian:

Cool

His s/o is full of mysteries and talents, isn't it?

Sebby will be interested to hear how and when exactly the Farmer began to get involved in drawing.

He'll be pleasantly surprised if his s/o shows him a science fiction comic they've drawn. If the Farmer wants to publish the comic and concept art on the Internet, then Sebastian will create a dedicated site for their publication.

His entire monitor is plastered with stickers drawn by his s/o in the form of cute frogs. No matter how many times Abigail and Sam tease him about it, he will not remove the stickers.

If the Farmer draws digital arts, Sebastian will always put them on the desktop of his computer.

For their s/o birthday, Sebby will give them a nice electronic sketchbook.

Sebastian sometimes gets nervous when Robin comes into his room, because he is afraid that his mother will accidentally throw out one of his s/o drawings. Robin seems to know that the drawing on Sebastian's desk should not be touched, but Sebby still sometimes hides them in the table, just in case.

Elliott:

Marvelous! Wonderful! Elliott didn't expect to meet another creative soul. The valley is indeed full of talented people!

Even the most ordinary sketch, which, according to his own s/o, is unremarkable, Elliott keeps as the apple of the Eye.

He will be happy if the Farmer offers to draw illustrations for his new novel he's writing.

While he is touring for his another book signing, Elliott will search for handmade sketchbooks and expensive paint sets as gifts for his precious s/o.

Elliott loves how beautifully they portray the landscape of their farm. He will hang this picture in a beautiful frame on the wall in the most prominent place in the house.

One day, after a few strong drinks, he will jokingly offer s/o to draw him half-naked. The poor writer will immediately blush if the Farmer seriously agrees to this idea. The portrait came out beautiful, but they both decided to keep the painting a secret. There are some paintings that are not created for prying eyes.

Elliott will put up a new closet in his room for all his s/o paintings, drawings, and creative figures.

Harvey:

Harvey isn't surprised when Farmer says they can draw. They are talented in everything they undertake.

Harvey is used to their doodles on his workbook and notes. The Farmer in the clinic is a frequent visitor, and sometimes they cannot restrain their creative impulse. Harvey doesn't mind, but please don't draw in his documents!

Every time s/o fills Harvey's lunch box for him at work, they leaves notes with cute and motivating drawings. Today is a note with a pun, tomorrow it is a painted kitten in a cup that wish Harvey a good day. Harvey smiles warmly every time at the sight of such small messages from his loved one, which set him up in a good mood.

He constantly massages his s/o hands when they starts to ache from frequent drawings and farm work. No hard work today, doctor's order!

Was very surprised when he found a whole stack of papers with sketches of his portrait. The Farmer says that Harvey is his main muse, so there is nothing to be surprised about.

He is amazed at how accurately they draw model aircraft.

A little embarrassed when his s/o asks him to pose for a portrait. The Farmer tells him to just be himself the way the Farmer loves him, and Harvey relaxes, once again noting how talented his s/o is.

Shane:

Heh, neat.

"Can you draw a dick on the wall at Joja Market?"

Shane please

He constantly smiles when his s/o shows him a book of sketches. Shane could listen to them forever.

Shane himself is not a fan of great art, but will listen with interest to the Farmer about different styles of drawing.

Stickers and funny pictures with farm animals are his favorites. He especially likes how they drew cute chickens.

What, this chicken sticker was inspired by Shane's favorite Charlie? Shane is about to die of happiness.

His s/o sat with Jas on more than one occasion and helped her with posters for contests and events. + into the piggy bank of good memories for Shane.

The Farmer always asks Shane for fresh sketch ideas. Shane usually says he's untalented when it comes to imagination, but he always comes up with a funny and crazy idea for new s/o drawings.

"So, you haven't changed your mind yet about drawing on the Joja wall di-?"

SHANE NO-

Stardew Valley Expanded Bachelors with artist!Farmer s/o:

Vicror:

:O

There is a whole book with Victor's portrait. And they are all so beautiful, why did his s/o hide it from him?!

Well, they didn't hide it, but Victor would like to know that his partner is the next Leonardo da Vinci!

Victor does not hesitate to give you a huge set of high-quality expensive paints, colored pencils and sketchbooks.

He is very glad that the Farmer and his mother have a common interest. Olivia and Victor's partner often arrange private drawing lessons at home, remembering to constantly call Victor and show him the paintings on the canvas. Great family time!

Although Victor is more knowledgeable in design and drafting himself, he doesn't mind getting some advice from his s/o.

He jokes and wipes the Farmer's hands and face if they don't notice they're covered in paint.

Usually, Victor is a little shy about asking the Farmer to draw something specific, such as landscape with a bridge. But his s/o seems to read Victor's thoughts and in a week gives Victor a beautiful picture with famous bridges. Victor will be surprised more than once how good and accurately they draw.

He also often shares his drawings of bridge designs with them and asks for their opinion.

Magnus:

Not to say that he is a fan of art, but the way s/o draws natural landscapes is very mesmerizing. The painting is like a window to another world!

With permission from his s/o, he casts a quick cleaning spell on them, as the Farmer always manages to stain themself and their clothes with paint.

Magnus and his s/o often go to the forest, where they find a beautiful scenic spot. The Wizard sits in the lotus position to meditate, and the Farmer sits nearby and quietly draws a new picture. It may seem unremarkable to some, but Magnus appreciates such calm moments more than anything.

"Can you pose for me please?" Wait, what? They want to draw him? Why not.

Magnus comments that he looks better on canvas than in reality. For which he receives an angry look from the Farmer and the answer that on the canvas they are unlikely to ever depict their favorite wizard as beautiful as he is in reality.

Merciful Yoba, Farmer, why are you so perfect in everything?

Lance:

Farmer, adventurer and artist... My my, their s/o is an incredible person.

He repeatedly notices how they buried their noses in the diary and make notes about adventures with beautiful illustrations.

A little jealous of his s/o time management: the Farmer has time to do farm work, protect the valley, and paint at the same time!

Nevertheless, he suggests at least sometimes to rest and not to overestimate their strength. Tired hands will affect the ability to hold a weapon firmly, which can end badly in a fight with monsters.

Lance is hard to embarrass, but when their s/o shows him sketches of Lance himself, the brave adventurer's cheeks turn a little pink. They painted him like an Olympic god.

"You are like an Olympic god, I could not miss such beauty and not draw you" Thank you very much, now Lance's cheeks are now rosier than his hair.