#i’m sorry i used a semicolon

[lovelyreprisethirteen]

shayne and courtney never had sibling energy; they’re both just blonde.

[hiem3]

smooth operator

18+

warning~ alc0h0l, bar, 3ating out, d0m seokmin, use the word baby, darling, and honey.

summary~ you’re the owner of a bar in the 20’s and it’s illegal to sell/drink alcohol. as an owner you have priorities until, a man comes in with a devilish smile and your whole mindset changes.

author side note: oml i had so much fun writing this! i literally had this plot in mind when i was listening to smooth operator and i was listening to light a flame as well lol~ i hope you guys like this story as much as you liked ceo jeonghan! more stories to come!

It was late at night and you were opening your secret bar. It was the 20’s and booze was illegal so you had to hide your bar from the outside world. only the elites are allowed inside your bar; business men, ceos, wallstreet guys,

and everyone else expect cops. if cops came in you would be gone, your whole business would be over. your bar was hiding underneath a book store named semicolon however your bar was named light a flame after your favorite song.

your bar was boomin and business was going good. however tonight’s business is going especially well “free shots for eveyone!” said a business man “my business is good and so are these drinks woo!” he abruptly sits back down into his seat. you smile and giggle of course because it’s a good atmosphere people are laughing and having fun. you pour the shots and hand it to everyone. everyone says 1..2..3 go! and they all take the shot together expect you of course. Jazz was blaring loud and suddenly you smell smoke. “hey you! can’t you see the no smoke sign?” you point at the sign.

the man was devilishly handsome, tall nose, nice smile, broad shoulder, and whew that build. you get kind of embarrassed once you realize all of this, he puts his lighter and cigarette box away “i’m sorry mrs. 1st time” he said smiling. you blush a little bit and cough “well i guess that’ll be fine but don’t you do that again mr.” “it’s mr. lee but just call me seokmin” he said with a small smile “right..i don’t want no cops showing up here askin why is there smoke coming out of a library shop”. “no no i understand mrs?” he asked his eyes were begging with an answer “mrs. y/l, but you can call me y/n”. “y/n tell me why a book store?” he asked sipping his whiskey “actually this was my father book store but i renovated it to be a bar” you say proudly as you’re cleaning glasses. “you know..alcohol is illegal right?” he says as he’s sipping whiskey. you froze is he a cop? a spy? fbi? he chuckles and you stop being tense. you chuckle as well “my, well then have me arrested” seokmin voice lowers “you know your laugh is cute”. your ears blush “why thank you”

a man drunkly calls for your name “y/-n g..et ov..er he-re!” you smile at seokmin “duty calls” for the rest of the night you attended to everyone and haven’t spoken to seokmin even though he’s been staring at you the entire time. by the night ends there was only him at the bar “it’s 1:00 am in the morning, shouldn’t you be heading home?” you say cleaning up the bar. “yes well, i wanted to have you all to myself before i leave” he responded grabbing your broom away and placing his hand on your waist. you blush, flustered by the way he’s staring into your eyes. “i’ve been observing you seeing how you run this place, it made me curious about you, what more secrets are you hiding?” he says leaning over you “my well.. you know you’re quite forward” you chuckle nervously. he smiles back “i’m only like that when i want something..and you know…i always get. what i want.” it’s as if he’s telling you to fuck him in your bar but you stop yourself and create distance. “well seokmin you’ll have to wait for it” you say dusting yourself and fixing your hair nervously “did i also mention i am also quite patient” he says smiling “well i bid you a good night my darling”. seokmin exists your door and leaves for the night. for the rest of that week you continue thinking about him, wondering when is he going to come back? is what he says true?

every since you met seokmin you’re always looking at the customer who enters the door hoping it was him then on Friday you hear a similar voice. oh that might be him you thought to yourself and it was, however he brought his friends. a man with blonde hair asks for 2 bourbon and 1 scotch. you look over at the table where seokmin was sitting and asked “is it for them?” you point. “ah yes you see my friend over there he was saying how this bar was amazing and the owner hospitality was like no other” he responded “ah thank you, could i ask what your name is? i like to remember my customers” you say smiling. “you can call me seungkwan”. you guys shake hands and you hand him his 2 bourbons and 1 scotch.

as the night goes on, it got chaotic to the point where you didn’t even check on seokmin because you were too busy with customers.

again, when you closed seokmin was the only one left. “don’t you have somewhere to be?” you laugh “actually yes. here with you” he responded smiling as he sips his scotch. “what happened to your other friends?” you ask “they got too drunk and had to leave, they wanted me to come with them but..i wanted to stay here” he says, you notice there was a little bit of blush on your ears which made you blush a little bit. “oh well that’s too bad” you say “you know..you might make me jealous by asking about them” he says wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you from the back.

“seokmin..i don’t do that one night stand type of stuff” you say“me too..what made you think that i did?” he asks having a concern look on his face. “well i- you know what i’m sorry i shouldn’t have assumed” he turns you around to face him “you should know that i don’t intend to do this with just anyone..” your head starts spinning, your mind is telling you know but your body is telling you go. you hop on him, his arms around your legs to hold you up “is this a yes my love?” he says, you nod. he smiles and says “i’m gonna need you to tell me with your words” you sigh and whisper into his ear “please..fuck me”.

he throws you over his shoulder and puts you down on the bar counter “that’s all i needed, wasn’t that not so hard?” he grins. he starts kissing you, to your neck, chest, thighs, and reaches to your cunt. he spreads your thighs apart and looks up. “i want you to remember every. single. thing. i’m gonna do to you. i want to engrave it into your mind”. he starts licking your clit, twirling around while grabbing your tits. you never felt this way before and you’ve never been fucked inside your own bar. “m-mm seokmin!” you yell “honey, you’re gonna have to lower down your voice, you don’t want the cops to hear you” he smiles. fuck that cocky little devil. he continues eating you out, putting his fingers in and focusing on your clit. it wasn’t enough, you needed bigger. the way he’s eating you and the view you were at, his little cute mole and his nose. you grab his hair and start riding on his nose “mm-m seokmin! i’m close!” you groan. you ride out your orgasm and you cum all over his face, white paint is all over his face. “oh wow..you’re so fucking hot” he licks his fingers and leans over you “put your ass up darling”.

you go down from the bar counter and lean your body on top of the counter. the cool surface on the table feels nice on your tits. “fuck, i can’t hold it in longer..” he puts the tip in and you can already tell it’s big. you’ve had sex with other guys before but you never had this big. he puts it all in and groans “uh-h so warm..” you moan “hm ple-ase move..” something in him lights up. you can tell he got even harder when you said that, he starts grabbing your ass and hitting you deep. your whole core is shaking it feels too good to be true. “you like that huh? you like it when i fuck you like this? hm?” he says grabbing you face and leaning over your body fucking you. “hm-m ye-s” you mumbled. “sorry you’re gonna have to say that louder darling, or is my cock that good that you can’t say anything?” he says grinning. you start uncontrollably moving on his cock. “f-uck!” you moan. “i’m close darling” he says. he starts circling your clit and pumping you even harder, hitting your stomach. “i’m cu-mmingg!” you yell gripping on the edge of the counter, rolling your eyes back and tears dripping down your face. “me too” he says. he grabs your face and you guys start kissing passionately. you came and so did he, “fuck baby that was so good”. your legs gives out “oh shi-“ he quickly grabs you and puts you on top of the counter. you can’t even move your legs “fuck my back is so sore” you hiss and hit him “don’t be fucking me from the behind again!” he giggles and says “i don’t know you seem to like it, but hey if you say so” putting his hands up as if he’s guilty.

you guys both laugh and it’s already 2:00 am, “oh no i gotta head back to work, my break is over..” seokmin says “right now? really? wait- what do you even do?”. he puts on his pants, his jacket, and grabs something from his left pocket as he’s making his way through the door “i’m a cop” he says grinning showing you his badge “bye honey~ see you next time” he says. your jaw dropped opened. you can’t believe you had sex and with a cop!?

[soapyghostie]

Hi! i love reading you little stories about danny ‘jed olsen’ johnson!! I was hoping you could make a post about how he would look, like: many body scars, soft muscular body, or strong and tougher kind of body. Hope you understood what i was asking for, i tried to explain it the best i can! <3

You mean like general headcanons? I did a mixture of both his appearance and his personality if that’s okay. There is a link of a visual of what I think Danny looks like at the very bottom. Hope you enjoy!

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

This man has many scars all over his body from his victims trying to defend themselves, but failed. Where he has scars the most is definitely his legs and chest where victims have landed sharp objects deep past his suit, into his skin. I guess his leather suit can’t protect him all the time. He has a giant scar running right through his left eyebrow. Him being the cocky bastard he is, he loves to show it off to his coworkers and make up an insane story for it. The crazy thing is that they actually believe him. 

His gaze can intimidate anyone. He has these stern yellow eyes that will make you shrink into your skin if he glares at you. However, when he gives someone puppy dog eyes, you can’t resist. There’s no way you can say no to those gorgeous yellow eyes. Additionally, I just wanted to say, his eyes make him look cat-like. 😂 

Danny has a very lean body. He has to be strong so he can overpower his victims. However, he isn’t bulky because he also has to be fast and carrying a ton of muscle will slow him down. He definitely works out a lot. I’d say he runs 7-8 miles and hits the gym at least two hours everyday because, let me tell you, he is definitely shredded. (I’m sorry. This headcanon is definitely the runner coming out of me.) 

Danny has short, but fluffy black hair. He makes sure to keep it silky soft so he can easily run his hands through it. Also, to wow the ladies; he knows women love a man with gorgeous, silky hair. Dingus. 

Dude, this man is literally so silent. He can judge which floorboards creak, which doors squeal when opened, what shadows keep him hidden from sight. It’s insane. Literally a god. 

I think we all have gotten a glimpse of how much of an asshole and narcissist he is. He’s extremely mischievous, confident, and thinks he’s the biggest lady-killer. Spoiler alert! He really isn’t no lady-killer: he can’t even get a lady for the life of him. His cheesy pick-up lines and flirting skills are full of crap. He better be glad he has his looks or he’d get himself slapped across the face. 

Danny is a fantastic photographer. He makes sure that any photo he takes is on point. He’s a perfectionist. If he takes a photo, no matter if it’s for work or snapping photos of victims, it has to be perfect or he scratches it out of his camera roll. 

He is a great writer as well. I don’t know why the Roseville Gazette would hire him if he wasn’t. 🤷‍♀️ Anyways, a fucking unit at punctuation. He uses semicolons way too much than he probably should, just like me, and he knows it too. Hey! If it looks good and sounds good then that is all that matters. He’s also a pretty fast typer and always proofreads his writing at least 4 times before turning it in for publishing. He tends to get all his work done before all his coworkers. 

He keeps a journal where he writes important information about his victims: where they live, their daily routines, and stuff like that. He also sketches out what each and every one of his victims looks like next to his notes. 

He’s pretty cold-hearted and has an obsession for fame and recognition. He wants everyone to know who he is and to fear him. He’s addicted to the fear frozen on his victims faces when he calls them and has dozens of pictures of his victims hidden in his nightstand drawer to use for his articles.

Even though he’s a phenomenal journalist, he doesn’t get paid that much so this man literally lives off of ramen. However, he loves himself a nice home cooked meal: anything that takes a long time to cook to be honest. He would cook if he wasn’t so bad at it. 

He loves himself a good bargain; he loves the power they hold over someone. The moment someone breaks their side of the deal, he can break his and they’re over and done with if you know what I mean. 👀

He loves drama. He’ll listen to all the tea and no one will know he’s listening in either. He’ll start spreading it around to all the other coworkers. Now everyone knows the business. That’s why you never whisper shit while Danny is around because he’ll get a hold of that gossip one way or another. 

Danny Johnson visual

Hey you guys! Just a quick note that I’ll get to your requests on Saturday. This was the easiest request in my inbox so I didn’t have to think about what I wanted to write as much as I have to with other requests. I’m just so exhausted from camp, but I wanted to post something new for you guys to read. I hope you enjoyed it.

[ohnococo]

Right Start | Ijichi x Reader

After working himself to exhaustion, you provide Ijichi with some much needed stress relief.

❧ WC: 2.2k

❧ Warnings: fem bodied reader, no pronouns used for reader, established relationship, whiny sensitive Ijichi, kissing, pussy job/intercrural sex, vaginal sex, creampie

Ijichi’s work stresses him out, well, all of the time. That’s why when he’s forced to bring it home you can’t help but be left with your heart aching for him. He never says no, because he feels like he can’t - it’s his job to give it his all. And in turn it makes you feel like it’s your job to support him, especially when he’s within your reach at his home office, brows tense, adjusting his glasses and tucking the same strands of hair behind his ear again and again as he tries to keep every bit of his tired mind on point for his work.

So you do what you can, checking in to make sure he takes breaks every few hours, and when he won’t even do that much, bringing him food and drink to at least keep him going.

It’s become a ritual for you, watching the clock to make sure you aren’t bothering him too often, but knowing if you leave him too long he’ll sit there for hours and hours until his stomach is grumbling and he’s nearly dehydrated.

This time, as you walk down the hall and give his door a little knock before opening it, it seems even your diligent efforts haven’t kept your sweet Kiyotaka from succumbing to his stress. His head is down on his desk, face down in fact. He hasn’t even been able to remove his glasses, leaving the arms askew with how his face is pressed to his desktop. One arm hangs limp off the arm of his chair, while the other is draped across his keyboard, leaving a string of semicolons being typed on page god-knows-what of his research.

“Kiyo?” Your voice is gentle, not wanting to startle him, and when that doesn’t rouse him you approach him quietly. This time when you say his name it’s accompanied by a hand on his shoulder, squeezing until he’s taking in a sharp breath and blinking himself back to consciousness.

“Oh no…” he looks at his desk, the drool in front of him, the nonsense starting mid-sentence in his document, then he finds his bearings and realises you’re the one who roused him and turns to you with worried eyes. “Was I asleep long?”

You shake your head, “No more than half an hour.”

“Good.” he sighs, relieved, as he rubs at his eyes, straightens his glasses, and starts trying to get back to where he left off.

“You’re wearing yourself out. Why don’t you take a break? A proper one, not just a bathroom break.”

He puts his hand over where yours is still resting on his shoulder, trying his best to reassure you before he settles his fingertips back onto his keyboard. “I think it should only take a few more hours.”

“Hours?”

“I just need to finish this, I’m sorry.” He looks up at you with pleading eyes, knowing how concerned you are. It might work if you weren’t so worried for him, but you’re undeterred as you softly tug on his shoulder until his chair is swivelling and he’s forced to face you.

“Kiyo… you can’t be productive like this. Just give me an hour and I’ll get you back in here fresher than before. I promise you’ll feel better afterwards.”

He looks to his laptop screen, then back to you a few times, toying with the hem of his shirt with unsure hands, before sighing and nodding with his eyes closed. “You’re right.”

You have every intention of keeping your word as you settle him down onto the couch, opening the windows to let fresh air in, setting the quickest food and drink you can gather in front of him - making him relax and take care of himself for a moment before dealing with everyone and everything else on his plate. You even turn the little clock on the shelf above his television around, assuring him that you’ll let him know when it’s time to get back to work.

Twenty minutes later and a difference has already been made, as Ijichi is fed and calm and looking at you with his usual loving gaze as you two talk about something other than work for what felt like the first time in ages.

“Thank you for coming over, even if I can’t be a better host.”

You shrug, “Work is work. Besides, if I didn’t come over you would have been passed out at your desk and starving. You need to worry about yourself too, okay?”

He looks down and bites at his lower lip, knowing it isn’t the first time he’s needed the reminder. “I know… I don’t want you to worry about me.”

When his eyes come back up to meet yours he has the sweetest shade of pink tinting his cheeks. His lashes flutter and he seems a little embarrassed at what he’s about to say, but pushes himself to say it nonetheless. “But I do like it when you take care of me.”

A warmth spreads through your chest, making its way up to the tips of your ears as you chuckle at your boyfriend’s earnestness. “Then it’s a good thing I love taking care of you.”

You pull his glasses off, setting them to the side before holding his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs across his sunken cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He melts into it, resting himself against your lips, and when you lean back he lets his head slide right down to rest in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, rubbing at his back, feeling his long lashes brushing at your neck, and think for a moment that he just might be dozing off until he brings his lips to your skin.

It’s a light kiss, soft lips against your pulse as the breaths from his nose tickle at your skin, then as the second kiss is slightly firmer you can feel him tense as he’s lost in thought. The third kiss is deeper still, slightly wet as he lets just the tip of his tongue brush against your neck before you’re laughing softly at the wavering hesitation of his actions.

“We have time. You can get back to work afterwards, okay?”

It’s all the rationale he needs, finally sucking at your neck lightly, licking before his lips part just to move to another spot to kiss.

You pull him further into your embrace, leaning back and lying down across the couch with him on top of you. He nestles into you, happy hum accompanying his kisses along your neck when you squeeze his hips between your thighs. The kisses take a path downward as he tugs the neckline of your shirt just a little bit lower, lips gentle against what he can reach of your chest like this, until you’ve had enough and pull your shirt up yourself.

He helps you take it off, then sits up, arms raised as he lets you pull his shirt off in turn before he’s coming back down to press your bodies together, slotting himself slightly lower so he can press kisses against your breasts. His long fingers curl into the waistband of your pants, but he can’t make much progress with removing them thanks to how the two of you are lying, so you raise your hips and help him along. With them out of the way, you lie back and let him make the choice of how to proceed.

A choice is made with slow and deliberate movements, as Ijichi sits up and pulls your underwear to the side, keeping them hooked in place with his thumb as he slides the fingers of his other hand through your wetness. His brows knit further, as he looks nearly pained with the intensity of how you feel just with fingertips.

“So soft…”

He knows you are, but has to reiterate it every chance he gets, always lost in the thought of it when it’s presented to him like this. It always feels like it’s not quite real for a moment until you’re speaking to him, encouraging and warm.

“Go on, Kiyo.”

He nods, pulling his fingers from you just long enough to start shoving his own pants down, barely low enough to give him the access he needs. As his cock springs free, standing and aching and twitching as you angle your hips upwards, he shakes his head instead. His glassy eyes meet your confused gaze as he seems to change his mind last minute, “I want to- let me just-“

Ijichi stops, biting at his lower lip, trying to make sense of his thoughts and wants even as his head is crying out for the comforts right in front of him. Then, he lets out a desperate little whine, grasping himself at the base. He presses it against you, gliding through your wetness in a path that has his silky tip stopping for a moment to slide just that bit more firmly against your clit as he pushes his hips forward to thrust back up.

His eyes meet yours again, hoping his actions can help explain, “Just like this, for a second.”

You nod, reaching down to hold your underwear in place as he thrusts in the tight wetness formed between your folds and his own fingers. He looks into your eyes, letting out shaky breaths as he tries to pull his thoughts together.

“Feels good, Kiyo?” The addition of your voice to his slow movements has him whining. He nods enthusiastically as he pulls his hips back enough to really focus the head of his cock against your clit as he slides over it.

“Y-you too?”

“Yes.”

He smiles, wide and happy, like a cat basking in the sun as he continues his soft thrusts. You settle a leg on his shoulders, the other dangling off the couch, and he rests his head against your calf, letting out sweet little coos at the feel of you against his cock. He’s content with his slow, but firm, movements - getting you close but not quite pushing you over that edge as he leaves you clenching around nothing. You grip at his thighs, feeling the wiry muscle jump as he indulges himself in you for this much needed break.

He isn’t worried, he isn’t watching the time, he isn’t thinking about anything but how good this feels. You do the same, letting him partake in your body how he sees fit even as you lie there growing more and more needy for him to push his way inside of you.

Eventually, that time comes for him. He locks eyes with you, brows raised in a silent request, until you nod and he refocuses on finally working his way into where he’s needed most. He pulls back, letting you wrap your legs around his hips as he lines himself up at your entrance, and lets out a shaky breath as he slides in.

He’s too far gone to take it any slower than he already has, burying himself inside of you fully in one quick push. He nestles his face in the crook of your neck, thrusts already sloppy as he whines against your skin between wet, distracted kisses. When even that isn’t enough he brings his lips to yours, trying his best to kiss you, though his focus is pulled in too many directions to do more than slide his tongue messily at your mouth.

The slow and steady pace of before is long gone, and Ijichi is lost in the need to shove the momentum he’d built further and further as he brings both of you closer. His hips rock against yours, barely pulling out before he’s pushing in and pressing himself flush to you. It’s friction enough to have him moaning into your mouth, more focused on the feel of you gripping his cock as he slides against your sweet spot just right than he is on the kiss that has now turned to his wet lips brushing yours. Every signal your body gives him has his body responding in kind as he begins to throb inside of you, whining out your name through gritted teeth as his end fast approaches.

He grips at the cushions beneath you, stomach clenching, trying his hardest to hold out as he feels you just catching up to him. You look up at his desperate face, lips swollen, eyes glassy, and it’s the last thing you need alongside his rutting into you deep as he can to have you cumming on his cock. With just that first tight clench around him, he’s crying out, shaky, rocking into you sloppily as he unloads inside of you with eyes rolled back and muscles tensing so hard you think he may just pass out.

The thrusts continue even after he’s collapsed on top of you, whining steadily at the intensity as he sees you through your own orgasm until you’re satisfied and rubbing at his back, letting him stop before it’s too much. He rubs his face against your chest, panting and sighing, eventually twitching as your touch begins to tickle, and he looks up at you with happy eyes.

“Do you feel better now?”

He laughs, pressing his flushed face against your skin and indulging in your warmth a little longer. His breath tickles at you as he confirms, “Yes.”

“I told you you would.”

[luveline]

Jade how do you use semicolons? I’ve been asked to use them in an essay I have to write but I don’t understand at all.. Do they just replace commas??? Sorry if this is stupid, but could I get an example?

I’m probably wrong and I know that sometimes when I use them I’m not doing it the right way and I should use something else, but it’s like if two sentences are the same and can exist on their own, whereas commas are for when they can’t exist on their own. (Though you could say the former about full stops too). I’m very sorry to everyone reading this shaking their head right now. So for example,

Eddie can’t sleep without his Walkman; a dead battery in his tape deck spells sleepless nights afoot.

or, alternatively you can use them when listing things

there are so many things in your room that draw his attention, and his awe; the bouquet preserved and hanging, petals upside-down, like a bat in the eaves of your doorway; the books towering in tan stripes against the wall, ready to topple with one strong wind; the ashes on your window sill, evidence of a l sermon he wasn’t privy to, and aches to know.

Awkward if I’m totally wrong and I think semi colons are sort of like, eggcorn punctuation where they’re used wrongly so often that the parameters of what’s correct usage is starting to change :0 I’d say YouTube it baby and see if anyone has a tutorial !!! You’re not stupid!! Never

[liketwoswansinbalance]

SGE Characters as Literary Things

(Not all of these are actual literary or rhetorical devices; some are just writing techniques, forms, genres, mediums, etc.)

This is a bit abstract, so I’m curious about how subjective these might be. Does anyone agree or disagree? And feel free to make additions if you think I left anything out, or request another character that isn’t here.

Hopefully this makes (intuitive?) sense. As always, I'm willing to explain my thought process behind any of the things I've listed.

Also, anyone can treat this like a “Tag Yourself” meme, if you want. Whose list do you most relate to, use, or encounter?

⸻

LANCELOT (I know—how odd that I’m starting with a minor character and not Rafal, but wait. There’s a method to my madness. Also, watch out for overlap!):

Metonymy, synecdoche (no, literally, to me, these are him.)

Zeugma

Analogy

Figures of speech

Slang, argot

Colloquialisms

Idioms

TEDROS:

Simile

Metaphor

Rhyming couplets

Rhyme schemes

Sonnets

Commercial fiction

Coming-of-age genre

Line enjambment

Overuse of commas

Cadence, prose speech

Waxing poetic, verse (not prose)

Alliteration

Kinesthetic imagery

Phallic imagery/sword sexual innuendos (sorry)

The chivalric romance genre

AGATHA:

Anaphora, repetition

Semicolon, periods

Line breaks

Terse, dry prose

Semantics (not syntax)

Elegy

Resonance

Consonance, alliteration

Pseudonym

Narrative parallels

Realism

Satire

SOPHIE:

Sophistry (yes, there is a word for it!)

Imagery

Italics, emphasis

Em dash

Aphrodisiac imagery

Unreliable narrator, bias

Rashomon effect

Syntax (not semantics)

Diction

Chiasmus (think: “Fair is foul and foul is fair.”)

Rhetorical purpose

Provocation, calls to action

Voice, writing style

Rhetorical modes: pathos, logos, ethos

Metaphor

Hyperbole, exaggeration

Sensationalism, journalism

Surrealism

Verisimilitude

Egocentrism

Callbacks (but not foreshadowing or call-forwards)

Narrative parallels

Paralepsis, occultatio, apophasis, denial

Hypothetical dialogue

Monologue

JAPETH:

Sibilance

Lacuna

Villanelle (an obsessive, repetitive form of poetry)

Soliloquy

ARIC:

Sentence fragments

RHIAN (TCY):

Unreliable narrator

Setup, payoff

Chekhov’s gun

Epistolary novel

RHIAN (prequels):

Multiple povs

Perspective

Dramatic irony

Situational irony

Chiaroscuro (in imagery)

Endpapers

Frontispiece

Deckled edges

Narrative parallels

Foreshadowing

Call-forwards

Foil

Death of the author

RAFAL:

Omniscient narrator

Perspective

Surrealism

Etymology

Word families or 'linguistic ecosystems'

Latin

Verbal irony

Gallows humor

Narrative parallels

Call-forwards

Circular endings

Parallel sentences or balanced sentence structure

Narrative parallels

Foil

Juxtaposition

Authorial intent (“return of the author”)

HESTER:

Protagonist

Allusions

Gothic imagery

ANADIL:

Defamiliarization

Deuteragonist (second most important character in relation to the protagonist)

Psychic distance

Sterile prose

Forewords, prologues

Works cited pages

DOT:

Tone

Gustatory imagery

Tritagonist (third most important character in relation to the protagonist)

KIKO:

Sidekick

Falling action

Dedications, author's notes, epigraph, acknowledgements

Epitaph (Tristan)

BEATRIX:

Pacing

Rising Action

Climax

HORT:

Unrequited love

Falling resolution

Anticlimax

Malapropism

Innuendo

Asides

Brackets, parentheses

Cliché

EVELYN SADER:

Synesthetic imagery

Villanelle

Foreshadowing

AUGUST SADER:

Stream of consciousness style

Imagery

Foreshadowing

Coming-of-age genre

Elegy

Omniscience

Rhetorical questions

Time skips, non-linear narratives

Epilogues

MARIALENA:

Diabolus ex machina

Malapropism

Malaphors, mixed metaphors

Slant rhyme

Caveat

Parentheses

Footnotes

MERLIN:

Deus ex machina

Iambic pentameter

Filler words

BETTINA:

Screenwriting

Shock value

[radiomagdalene]

Hi Tubbo Tubbo Tubbo Tubbo Tubbo Tubbo Tubbo Tubbo Tubbo Tubbo never mind

I get so excited to write to you but I waste all my paper doing things like that. Lucky you’ll never see this I’m lucky I’m lucky I’m here and you’re there and you’re so alive you’re so alive and that’s lucky lucky lucky

I cannot ask you how you are. Here is how you would reply probably if I asked you how you were: 

Here:

(How is Michael? How are you? I love you I love you I love you I never ever stopped I’m still here I love you I love you)

“We are fantastic Ranboo. Michael is so tall, he has never stopped growing and he never will. Everything grows here but he will be the only thing to keep growing, he’ll never stop, one day he’ll grow big enough to crush us all to death.”

And here is how I would respond:

“That’s not allowed that’s not allowed I love him so much but that’s not allowed. Please don’t die because that’s my job and you’re meant to be so so so alive and I love Michael and I love you and you can’t be here. You can’t be like me or see me because I’m not right anymore, I’m always always always turning to dust and I don’t want you to see that because you’re so”

I’m sorry. I needed to stop writing that. I added quotation marks for the sake of clarity but that doesn’t matter either because you’ll never see this and I’ll never see you and besides my handwriting is so bad that no one could ever read this, I think. You’ll have to be the judge of that one. It’s so dark in here.

I really really really really really

I’m back. I fell asleep.

“Oh, but how do you know you fell asleep? You’re not meant to know things like that in here, you’re meant to drift and, float and never know things ever just sit here and wait wait quietly stop yelling please you’re being weird you’re such a”

Quotation marks again. I made them just for you Tubbo so I hope you. I stopped that sentence because I didn’t know where it was going I love you.

I was talking about sleep. I know I fell asleep because I dream so much and usually I dream about dying so when I wake up it’s like I died for the first time and it’s so funny, it really is, sometimes I scream and if I block my ears it sounds like a TV laugh track. I think you would laugh but maybe you would scream too. Maybe we’re just the same.

I used to use semicolons all the time and now I don’t know how. Look at these ones: ;;;;;;;;; What do they do? I don’t remember but I keep dreaming about them. If you look at them on the side and add a little bracket they look like winky faces see ;) I know you know that but I had to say it because I’ll never remember otherwise. I never ever stop thinking about you I promise you’re in my head all the 

I KNOW WHY I WAS TALKING ABOUT DREAMS! You cry in most of them and that’s how I know they’re not real but in one you killed a girl and she looked so sad, she looked so sad and you didn’t look like anything at all. Then you annexed a retirement village. But I think those were separate occasions.

I love you and love you and love you and love you and

My name doesn’t mean anything anymore so I won’t put it here

I love you bye

[lulu2992]

Decoding the scripts and secret messages in Rebel Moon

Part 3: Figuring out the Old Imperium script

To try to decode the entire alphabet, I studied the Scribes and Priests’ outfits, Noble’s Bone Staff, but also and mostly the inscription on Kora’s gun, which we know means “My life for hers”:

As I’ve said before, it appears this script uses what resembles opening square brackets as spaces/word separators, but there are three other things we can notice. Firstly, all letters basically consist of either one (I), two (II), or three (III) vertical lines. Secondly, vowels and consonants look different: consonants are just lines while vowels have a rounded shape at their top or bottom. They almost look like either a P or lowercase b with up to two additional (vertical) lines.

The third thing we can observe is that, in each consonant, there is a smaller, horizontal line, and I realized this little line could be located at seven possible heights:

As I was trying to figure out which symbol was which letter, a clear pattern started to appear. It seems Old Imperium follows a logical progression: the first 2 vowels and the first 7 consonants in the alphabet have one vertical line, the next 2 vowels and 7 consonants have two, etc. As for the small horizontal line on consonants, it just gets lower and lower as you move from letter to letter in each “group”. So here is, I believe and if I’m not mistaken, how the script works:

In theory, there’s room for another consonant, “III-7”, after Z, but I don’t know if this symbol exists in the alphabet; I haven’t encountered it.

Below is the part of the bone staff that says “a rocking cradle”. It’s very blurry (sorry, the image is so small), but the logic seems to work!

I found the symbol for double letters on the Scribes and Priests’ clothes (under the 5th letter in the image below). As for the other symbol, it seems to be a question mark on Noble’s Bone Staff (the semicolon looks different there, but I can’t see it very well) and either a semicolon or a period on the outfits, so I’m not sure what it represents. I don’t know if my drawings are 100% accurate either, but this is what I see in the pictures.

Part 4 will be dedicated to the Priests and Scribes because they have a hidden message on them too! Using what I’ve just explained in this post, can you already guess what the 9-letter word above is? Fun fact: either I made a mistake... or they did.

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 9

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: ThErE wAs OnLy OnE bEd!!!1!1!

Author’s Note: Like comment subscribe drink water do squats etc. Most importantly, enjoy the almost-spicy content! ;3

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3! 

Prev | Next

“Oh my god,” I whisper. 

It’s 9 in the morning. I woke up wanting some water, but was stopped by two ivory arms wrapped around me. This isn’t happening. I peer over my shoulder and Seb is fast asleep, spooning me, looking as perfect as ever. 

“Oh my GOD, ” I this time silently mouth to myself. 

He moans — not like a sex moan, but still enough of a moan to do things to me — in his slumber, tightening his hold around my waist. Oh my god!!!

I suppose I have no choice but to accept my fate. I will simply never hydrate again. 

Feeling bold, I lay my hand on his, and trace the curves of his wrist and the light birthmarks on his forearms that I never noticed he was painted with. I finally get to see if his alleged tattoo is a tattoo or not. It is, and it’s a little semicolon. Fitting, considering what he’d shown me yesterday. 

I sink further into the bed, scooting back a little in the process, really soaking up this moment. I feel Seb shift behind me — shit, act asleep, (y/n)! I shut my eyes, and try to emulate a deep slumber with my breathing. 

“I know you’re awake, (y/n),” he taunts. My stomach does a flip at the sound of his morning rasp.

I fake an exaggerated snore, which earns me a light pinch on the side that I can’t help but laugh at. 

“Sorry,” I sigh, “you’re comfy…”

“Mhm... First my clothes, now my body ?!” He exaggerates fake-shock as I flip over to face him. “What else will you steal from me for your own pleasure, (y/l/n)?”

I observe him, my eyes dramatically roaming his face. I place my fingers underneath his chin, tilting my head and his around. Getting a better view of the specimen before me. Inspecting a precious jewel. He’s giggling, and it’s infectious. It's so fucking hard to keep up my facade right now. 

After much contemplation, I respond, “Your hair.”

“What? Why?” he asks, brows furrowed as he beams a smile.

“It’s super fluffy lookin’. Would make a good pillow.” 

Seb shrugs as he sits up to pop his back, while I roll onto mine. Morning breath, bedhead, and all, he’s still one of the most attractive people I’ve ever met. I can only imagine how crusty I look, on the other hand.

“Sorry about knocking out so fast last night,” I sheepishly apologize.

“Me too,” he follows. “I tried waiting until you stopped leaning on me to sneak out, but once 4ish came around, I nodded off.”

“Oh Yoba, I fell asleep on you?” 

He laughs, “It’s fine, I was just glad you were getting some rest after the tough day you had.” The butterflies in my tummy flutter at his concern. “Mom’s gonna be so annoying about this, though,” he groans as he stretches his arms over his head, subsequently rubbing his eyes. 

“Why? Is she not a fan of you sleeping out?”

He chuckles, shaking his head, “She hasn’t worried about my whereabouts in over a decade, probably.”

He flops back down next to me, and I shimmy onto my side to face him, blushing at how close we are once more.  Ha... I thought Sam hovering over me on the beach felt so scandalous , meanwhile I’m just comfortably bashful with this whole hunk a couple of inches away. 

“It’s kind of funny, uh…” he goes on, sighing and closing his eyes. “She’s been wanting to set us up.” 

“ O-oh?”

“Yeah…” He sighs, his lids opening to reveal the deep indigo orbs locking onto my (e/c) ones. “She thinks you’re really great, (y/n).”

I feel so frickin’ soft — Robin’s been so caring and helpful towards me. It’s just rad to know it was genuine, you know? Not just out of moral obligation or something… A shy smile creeps up on me.

“Which is why,” he sighs, propping himself up on his side, “she’s going to pester me for sleeping here. And why she thinks we would be a good match. Allegedly...” He shrugs and rolls his eyes teasingly during that last word. I spot the corner of his mouth twitching, underneath the light blush across his skin. 

“Who woulda thunk,” I respond quietly, reaching up to touch and admire his dark quartz — onyx, maybe? — gauges, “that I’d be such a hot commodity in the valley?” 

Seb tilts his head a little to let me get a better look at his piercings, his gaze honing back onto me once I lower my hand. “Of course. What else are all, like, 5 of us here going to do when a cute new girl shows up?” 

...Cute?

I lean up a little to match him, as my face contorts into a shit-eating grin. “Cute, huh?” I pair it with an annoying dance of my eyebrows.

Seb glares at me, a mischievous glint in his eye, and he pushes me back down to where I was. He scoots over a bit. I assume he’s about to crawl over me so he can get off the bed. Instead, he maneuvers himself on top of me. He softly “mhm”s, answering my question, his face is no more than 2 inches from mine.

Our noses almost touching, combined with the slight breeze of his breath on my lips, makes me shudder involuntarily. I feel a deep crimson forming on my face, as if I wasn’t easy enough to read already. 

Fuuuuck , this is hot… no! You gotta contain yourself, (y/n). He basically called me a bottom at the Egg Fest, but I want to be a power bottom, damnit! This is the time to Prove! Him! Wrong! 

Seb uses his thumb and forefinger to gently take hold of my chin, and slightly tilts my face to the side. As he does this, he lowers his head down further, his lips brushing my ear in the process. “You heard me, baby,” he basically purrs.

“B-baby?” I squeak, stunned.

I let out a shaky breath as I turn to goo beneath him. So much for being a power bottom. I feel him smile against my skin… and then he’s gone.  He makes his way to my bathroom, chuckling to himself. Cheeky little prick.

For a so-called shut-in, this man knows exactly what he’s doing. Luckily, my hands are under the blankets, so he couldn’t see me clinging to the sheets to distract myself from the heat forming between my legs.

I lay there for a sec, and realize that maybe I’m actually kind of mad about what he just did. Very aroused - I’d easily still let him have his way with me in that moment if he’d tried — but pissed . Dude almost definitely knows I have the hots for him, which is whatever. But… should I just let him take advantage of that? Am I being dramatic?

“What the fuck was that bro ?!” I shout before he can close the door. 

“What was what?” I hear a muffled Seb respond through the walls. I groan, loudly, trying to let the tingles in my legs die down before skulking over to him.

I wait against the wall of the shallow corridor connecting the bathroom with the kitchen. When Seb appears, I shove him into my previous spot — admittedly struggling more than I thought I would. For a twig, Seb is heavy and strong.

“Dude.” 

“Yeah, what’s up?” he coolly responds, staring down at me. His eyes tell me he knows his effect on me. Or, that he at least has some sort of effect, if not the correct one.

Suddenly, I can’t form words. Maybe I’m just reacting so strongly because I’m incredibly horny for this guy.

What am I doing?

We stand there for a moment, my hands firmly cupped onto his arms, my teeth gnawing at the inside of my cheek. We’re looking into each other’s eyes, neither of us knowing what in the fuck I was trying to accomplish here.

I groan a “nevermind” in agony and smack the wall next to him before locking myself in the bathroom to cool down. I hear him chuckle from the other side of the door and just shake it off. 

I almost forgot that I’m still wearing his clothes, and feel a little giddy at the sight until splashing some cold water on my face. After I have a pee, I turn on the shower, and brush my teeth while waiting for it to heat up. 

Maybe the sound of me showering will be enough of a tease to get my revenge? Like, oh Sebby, don’t you wish you could see me? You know, washing my body? Uh… nakedly???~

…No. Stop it you little freak.

I look at my dumbass self in the mirror, staring into my annoyed, defeated eyes. I groan again.

I wonder if getting off real quick would release this pent up, sexually induced anger.

Only one way to find out, I shrug to myself, stepping into the water.

__________________

It did help a little bit.

I walk back into the main room, wet and freshly combed hair falling down my back, cheeks still rosy from the orgasm and hot water combo. 

I’m wearing nothing but yesterday’s bra and panties, and it’s totally not because I want Seb to be as sexually frustrated as he made me. No, not at all. 

It’s just that I put his clothes into the washer already… and that possibly turning him on would be an added perk to not having brought a clean change of clothes to the bathroom with me.

He’s sitting at the edge of my bed, phone in one hand and Cannoli under the other. The sound of my closet opening prompts him to look up, and out of the corner of my eye I can see him watching me. I smirk when I notice the device fall out of his hand. I peer towards him as he picks it up, and when he locks onto me again, I narrow my eyes.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I say, directing my view back to my clothes. 

“ …Ok .”

“Wait what?”

When I turn back, he’s lowering his phone. That fucker actually did it. He looks so smug! I wish that I hated him.

“Y’know, Sebby , I had the impression that you were so nice and sweet. Truly spent most of my time in your care yesterday thinking about that,” I theatrically monologue to Seb as I turn away from him. I take off yesterday’s bra, and replace it with a dark gray replica of the tank top I wore yesterday, no bra underneath. We cannot be contained today. “Where the fuck did all that go? Hm?” I ask over my shoulder while flattening the hem of my shirt.

He shrugs, seeming satisfied with himself. “I could say the same to you,” he boasts, nodding to my half-naked body. 

I roll my eyes, “Don’t get your panties in a twist.” I yoink out a pair of ripped mom jeans, and wave them slightly in Seb’s direction. “I’ll be in pants in no time.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll let you in my pants.”

I snort a little while trying to hold back laughter. “Damn it,” I respond, both of us now snickering.

I pluck a fresh pair of panties at random, trying not to overthink things while a hot guy is watching my every move.

“Cute choice,” he notes.

“Fuck you.”

I’m about to head back to the bathroom to change, when he comes over and takes me by the hand.

“Hey,” Seb says softly, but sternly. I look up at him and furrow my brows, about to question him. Suddenly becoming conscious of just how exposed I am, I feel shrunken. Regardless of what he’s about to say, though, he’s visibly concerned. 

“I just wanted to say that I hope I didn’t cross any lines. Today or in the past. Make sure you tell me if I ever do, yeah?”

I don’t really know how to respond, it’s like a switch flipped. Feels as though he read my mind during my weird, horny internal debate.

When I don’t answer, he continues. “I meant what I said, when I called you cute, (y/n), don’t get me wrong,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “But I value you for so much more than your looks. And I don’t want to fuck anything up or make you feel uncomfortable just because I get… bold , from time to time, y’know? Just say the words, and I’ll lay off.”

I can’t help but just gaze at him in awe for a second while I process how gentle he’s being now. I smile and nod. 

“Thanks,” I look down at the pile of clothes in my arms bashfully.

He hums. “Now go put those on, you’re killing me.”

As if drawn by magnets, my gaze directs immediately to his crotch. 

Oh. 

Oh yes.

“ Bro , what the fuck!” he complains, covering the slight tent as I scurry away, fiendishly giggling to myself. 

As I’m putting on clothes, I remember that it’s Friday. I missed the past month or so of Saloon hang outs due to being balls deep in yard work after the first I attended. I want to go tonight, but I don’t want it to be weird. 

I opt to straighten my hair, so I at least look a little less messy than usual if I decide to have fun later. I don’t plan on sweating enough to need a re-shower, as I’m going to just spend today doing what I meant to do yesterday. It’s pretty sedentary work. 

While the iron heats up, I step out into the kitchen. I’m about to yell to Seb that I can make him some coffee if he wants it, but he’s already doing it himself. This feels so domestic, I love it. 

“Need any help?” I ask, startling him. I chuckle at his little jump. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Just finished.” Stepping toward me, he hands me a mug. This is the same one I gave him last night… I peer towards the sink and it’s empty of the coffee spinner and couple of spoons I’d left in there.

“D-did you wash my dishes?”

“While you were showering,” he nods. “It’s the least I could do, since I’ve been loitering here all morning,” he says matter-of-factly. “And night.” He winks after that part. Bastard.

I finally take the coffee, feeling a little tickled that he thinks he owes me anything.

“You didn’t have to, Seb.” I take a sip. For fuck’s sake, I should’ve known that this dark and edgy boy would like his coffee dark and edgy too. “I like havin’ ya around,” I choke out while reaching for the fridge.

“Not a fan of black coffee?” 

“Not in the slightest,” I chuckle, pouring some fresh milk – thanks again, Marnie! – into the mug. I open the cabinet above me for sugar, which is on the top shelf, and brace myself for the embarrassment of having to climb for it in front of someone. I lift my knee, and—

“Stop.”

That sounded so harsh, for no reason. Super hot, holy shit, but like… still harsh.

I look over my shoulder, annoyance clear on my face. “No?” I keep my knee propped up, ready to rebel. 

Seb takes a step forward, closing the small gap that was between us. He looks away for just a moment to put his own mug down beside me, simultaneously tapping the lifted thigh with his other set of knuckles. 

He’s giving me that look again. Same stare that he gave me during his weird shenanigan earlier this morning, except this time without the smirk.

I slowly lower my leg, hypnotized by his gaze and very clearly not rebelling. I’m totally flustered. He’s standing behind me, my back pressed against him for the second time today. He leans over me with ease to grab what I was reaching for. 

He drops the lidded bowl into my hand and looks at me expectantly. He hasn’t moved. He ensures he isn’t going to move by caging me in, his hands clamping to the edge of the countertop.

“Thanks, ya freak,” I mumble, trying not to enjoy whatever the fuck this is.

He’s still not moving. Or talking to me, apparently. Ok, cool. Whatever. That’s fine. I’m fine.

I pour a few teaspoons of sugar into my cup and put the lid back on. He takes it from me and puts it back, this time moving some things around to get it on a more easily accessible shelf. Stirring my coffee, I glare at him. He beams, gives me a frickin’ headpat — what is it with him and Sam patting my head?! — and walks away with his mug back in his grasp.

I follow him into the other room, noting but ignoring that my straightener is likely more than hot enough by now. He sits at the table in my only chair, sort of giving me the advantage…

Even if my standing height is barely above his sitting.

Either way, It’s over Anakin. I have the high ground.

Sebastiakin?

No. Sebastian.

Don’t make this worse, (y/n).

“Ok we gotta talk about something,” I announce, putting my mug down with one hand and slapping the wooden surface with the other.

“What’s up?” 

“Two things, actually,” I elaborate. “One, why’d you stop me from climbing? I do it without you around all the time, I don’t need help!” 

“Don’t want to watch you hurt yourself.”

“Again, I do it all the —“

“Don’t want to take the chance of watching you hurt yourself,” he corrects himself.

Fair, but I won’t voice that I think so. I just narrow my stare at him instead.

“Whatever. Two, why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” Seb smirks this time, but tries to hide it behind the mug that he’s lifting to his lips.

“You know what!” I whine, frankly exasperated from experiencing so much sexual tension today. He chuckles.

“Pfft, fine.” He puts down his much and leans his elbows on the table. “You’re easy to tease, and you’re adorable when you’re flustered.” How is he saying this so casually? “It’s just fun to get sort of cheeky with you, is all. Like I said, if you want me to stop...” Seb rests his chin on a closed fist as he gestures vaguely with his other hand, and waits for my response. 

Basically admitting that I enjoy his flirtatiousness, I close my eyes to mutter under my breath, “No, it’s… it’s fine.”

He laughs and shrugs, " There’s my little weirdo.” 

Totally gonna ignore that the use of “my” in his sentence made my heart go nuts…

“Oh, okay. So I’m a weirdo because I think this shit’s kinda fun, too?” I defend dryly, rolling my eyes. “That’s peachy, coming from the guy who thinks turning me on is, like, peak entertainment or whatever.”

He furrows his eyebrows and grins wickedly. Maniacally, even. I gulp. 

“(Y/n),” he growls, sending a chill down my spine. He shakes his head at me, eyes visibly darkening like some sort of fucking hellspawn. “I thought I was just embarrassing you.”

“Well, yeah, what do you mea— ”

“You just said it turns you on, yeah?”

…Fuck?

I suck in through my teeth, cringing at my own words coming back to bite me.

I don’t answer, unsure of how to. Even this is turning me on, how am I supposed to feel cozy after admitting that he’s been rattling my ovaries around all fucking day? Suddenly feeling shy again, I lean on the table, head in hands. Without seeing him, I can hear his evil snorts.

I look at him from where I am after a hot second, palms supporting my temple, still unsure of what to say. Seb is still waiting for me to rebuttal. He’s gnawing at his lower lip, not in a sexy way, but rather like he’s trying to stop himself from saying something snarky.

“My hair iron is probably ready,” I mumble before escaping the situation. 

[ariesmemes]

♡    ╱    SEMICOLON SENTENCE STARTERS ( created using seventeen’s 2020 album semicolon. lyrics come from english translation via genuis. feel free to adjust to fit your muse. )

“still holding onto the bat”

“don’t step back”

“don’t listen to anyone”

“just do whatever you want”

“hit ‘em up”

“you still have one chance left”

“don’t give up”

“you know what, i believe ya”

“just be yourself”

“what are you so worried about?”

“hit it further away”

“come running out, babe”

“keep your head up”

“we’ll wake up to a new tomorrow”

“throw that ball”

“let’s have some fun”

“you’re busy running away”

“why the game of hide and seek?”

“let’s play something else”

“there may be no end to our journey of dreams”

“let’s take a break for today”

“let’s have our own party”

“party on until the day ends”

“we do what we say with no fear”

“we play and play”

“why do you keep holding back when you feel emotional?”

“there are many ways to express it”

“i want to have a matter of choice”

“calm down”

“slow down”

“you can think about it more”

“everything is a good idea”

“everybody has a good idea”

“i don’t know what’s right or what’s wrong”

“base it on the order of your senses”

“i’ll always support how you feel”

“it’s right, it’s good”

“whatever you want”

“you can think it easily like do-re-mi”

“it’s difficult to think”

“it’s always difficult”

“just sing”

“life goes on”

“just keep going”

“endless regrets and worries”

“you define my world”

“almost everyone knows if it’s not as easy as it seems”

“take it easy for tomorrow”

“write that down”

“it’s not so difficult”

“hey buddy”

“what time is it?”

“i overslept”

“look out the window and it’s good weather”

“tripped on a stone while coming out”

“even if it hurts i don’t feel bad”

“i need to fix my sneakers”

“people don’t seem to care”

“why doesn’t it change?”

“i’m sure it’ll come soon”

“i’ll be at your house soon”

“knock on the door”

“what are you worried about?”

“come with me”

“what do you want to do today?”

“write down everything from one to ten”

“whatever you want”

“the destination is not very important”

“let’s go together”

“we all play the role of problem-solver and worry about it”

“tell me your wish”

“blurt out anything”

“it makes you feel better”

“wait a minute”

“it’s between you and me”

“it’s between me and you”

“it’s always between us”

“like a flame that never goes out”

“meeting you today was fun”

“how did you feel?”

“call me right away tomorrow morning”

“we are friends”

“tip-toeing the line”

“on the edge of barely crossing”

“relying on the light of a single candle to find each other”

“we already know”

“don’t rush”

“light a flame”

“don’t need loud sounds”

“let me breath deeply”

“i want to keep going right now”

“we’re falling for each other”

“i’m ready for you”

“my heart is ready”

“never cared about what anyone said”

“said you fell in love at first sight”

“checking if it’s a lie”

“if i show you something will you think me over every morning?”

“that firework launched in the middle of the sea”

“any day and anywhere”

“in the end i hope you become more to me”

“i become more to you”

“we won’t be able to hide what’s between us”

“love is you”

“if you’re careless about it now, what do i do?”

“the wave doesn’t stop”

“my surroundings are so quiet”

“my love only amounts to this”

“hello, my joy”

“you always make me laugh”

“you let me forget everything for a moment”

“play a song i know”

“hold my hand”

“before i know it, the me of today hopes for the you of tomorrow”

“baby, it’s alright”

“it’s okay”

“i’m even more thankful”

“i don’t know what to do”

“what can i do?”

“i’m really sorry”

“i’ll be your spring to whatever winter it may be”

“this is all my heart can say”

“please be the light in the dark sky”

“i can do everything for you”

“i just want to give you everything”

“that makes me feel small”

“it suddenly makes me hate myself”

“thank you for staying by my side”

“thought it was hard writing my feelings down”

“i can get closer to your love”

“i’ll be your umbrella in the rain”

“i’ll protect you on all your days”

[writingraven]

Another question regarding the “He stood,” versus “He stood.” thing

I’ve also seen people use a semicolon there? I’ve seen it mostly in fanfiction and not in published stuff, so I’m guessing you’re not supposed to do it, but it always seems to be with something that’s not quite an action tag but not quite a dialogue tag either. As in,

She sighed; “Okay, then.”

Basically, can you use a semicolon there?

So, basically… yes? kind of?

A semicolon connects two related sentences. So if the sentence before/after directly relates to the line of dialogue, then sure, that would technically be all right.

Essentially a semicolon connects sentences in a way that allows them to flow together opposed to a period which makes the sentences come to a stop.

For example:

His favorite color is blue. Hers is red.

His favorite color is blue; hers is red.

People generally read first line (period) with a longer pause than they do reading the second line (semicolon).

So, I suppose if that is the writer’s intention, then that could be a possibility.

However, my personal opinion, would be to keep it periods or commas. If it’s a dialogue tag, throw a comma. If it’s not, throw a period. In the example you gave, ‘sighed’ could easily be a dialogue tag or an action. So writer’s choice, but I wouldn’t recommend semicolons as that is a very uncommon usage.

Sorry I couldn’t give you a more definitive answer, but I hope this helped at least a little. If anyone else has a different opinion or other information on this, drop a reply! I’d love to read it. (:

[risarchives]

pilgrim / lover / home

vindemiator and cutie have been exchanging letters for the past few months, but presently, something is seemingly amiss. lasko, the fanatical president, may or may not have done something to put an end— or a pause, perhaps— to these exchanges without the knowledge of either the demon or the humanborn. vindemiator writes in haste and out of fear. fear of his chances slipping away.

(heavily inspired by this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone <3)

Dear Tender Lilac Sky,

You—

Fuck.

Firstly, I apologize. I'm sorry— I respect your time, your distance, your safe yet forbidden ways of sending a letter my way, but your lack of writing is worrying me. This letter is a desperation, a shattering of a glass. I may be risking what little chances we have at communication, but I am sick with grave disquiet and I can't stop myself from writing— I haven't received a single letter from you in a month.

The thought that you've awoken devotion from me is frightening. I am unused to this— to us, to what we have, but I don't want to lose it. A single letter of apprisal would have sufficed, one that would inform me whether you're doing well or if something came up that would make it difficult for you to send letters— or if this prolonged silence is a period, an end. I would've understood.

In our previous exchange, you asked about hunger and I spoke about freedom. I don't consume food the way humans do, Freelancer. But I do want freedom, I crave for autonomy. I want out of this place. Not least of them all, I want to share that freedom with you.

I want to build you a kitchen. I want to peel an orange for you, for both of us. I want to meet you under better circumstances, and in a home that's rightfully ours. I want you to consume food without doubts and mistrust. I want to surround you with everything good in place of all the famine and hostility and fanaticism here.

I want to taste my name in your tongue.

My satiety, my moments of happiness, petals of my Graceful Wisteria. Freelancer, I love you. I will continue writing to you in hopes that you would craddle my words to sleep and bring my confessions with you to dreamland. I will love you despite all the warnings, all the rules provided for those who’d dare love and grow vulnerable in this dreadful place.

I will forcefully affix a semicolon after the final words of this story if I have to. I want to give you this lifetime and the next, and to liberate both of them from Misfortune's hold.

I’ll—

stop now. I need to stop. I don't know how this is done properly, Freelancer. I hardly even know how to hold you. But I want to learn this together with you. I want to learn how you'd want me to hold you, to touch you, to love you. I want to know if you'd want me at all.

I want to hear from you again, to see you. I wish you'd return to the Haven, even once, even for a goodbye. Just grant me the felicity of setting my eyes on you again.

With the distance we were so cruelly given, it's hard to determine when every letter and every confession is too late and when they aren't. A bond is what we have, not control over time. I can pray to every god and give you every last pomegranate but I doubt the academy would let you stay here with me, no matter how safe and however much we so desire.

This letter is a confession, a rawness. I was given a body but I want to be a safe place for you. You were given scars but— all I see is a temple, a divine providence.

I hope this desperation of mine doesn't sicken you— it isn't among my wishes to let you down. But if the lack of epistles from you all this time I've been waiting signifies our ending, I ought to have you know— I love you, I love you, I love you. I used to be so certain I wouldn't fall into the temptation of romantic devotion, and yet here I am— a fool sending you his heart, a pilgrim hungering for your touch.

Tell me what to do, Lilac; tell me where to go. Where do we go from here? I need you. I need your guidance, your grace. I’m afraid they've filled this place with so much terror and violence, there's no space left for any freedom. Our freedom. Even if we try to escape, we've nowhere to go but each other.

Despite all that, you must know—

You were a prisoner when I first met you. After that, you were a companion, then after that, you were a friend. Weeks after that, we began exchanging letters. Courtesy of a few alphabetical characters and flowery prose, you became my Darling Hyacinth, my Dearest Amethyst, my Graceful Wisteria, my Soft Indigo, my Stubborn Wise and Beautiful Cheshire, my Unsung Eternity, and now, my Lilac Sky. My sky. My most beautiful sky.

I love you. The way I play chess, I love you: always losing, always the less strategic competitor, but always trying, always continuing. With the heavy weight with which I am writing this letter, I now understand how it means to be an ocean. In this hellish landscape, I am Eve displaying disobedience by longing for the forbidden fruit. In my heart’s palace within which I am holding you, I am but a votary fervently devoted to you. In both, I am a lover. Yours. Always.

Return to me soon, my strange fairy-tale.

He Who Has Always Been Yours,

Vindemiator

[suituuup]

hey, i love your fics! if you have time and are willing to write heavyish angst, i have a prompt idea - beca has a semicolon tattoo (maybe hidden, maybe not) and chloe asks about it one day. beca explains to her what it means (attempted suicide, or self ham, whatever you feel comfortable writing) and that she still struggles. it would mean so much if you could write something :)))

well this took forever! Hope you like it :)

TW: mention of suicide attempt

*

At times, dating Beca feels like walking on eggshells, at least for someone like Chloe; someone who is naturally open to her own emotions. Beca, on the other hand, tends to bottle them all up or build walls around herself so that nobody can get in, which has been a challenge for Chloe. 

She has to remind herself not to push Beca in a corner, sometimes, like the day she first saw the semicolon tattoo nestled against her ribs. Her first impulse had been to ask Beca about it, but she refrained, knowing it was too soon to have that conversation. Her heart felt heavy though, as she knew what that symbol meant. 

As weeks and months passed, Chloe eventually let it slip to the back of her mind; Beca seemed happy, and that’s all that mattered, not the past. 

“What was your first tattoo?” She asked Beca one night as they laid in bed, her pointer finger tracing the equalizer bars etched in her lower back as Beca laid on her stomach, her head turned towards Chloe. 

“My semicolon,” Beca murmured, causing Chloe to look up from her movements. “I know you’ve wanted to ask about it.” 

Chloe licked her lips. “I figured it was maybe too personal.” 

“And I appreciate the fact that you haven’t,” Beca said. “I wasn’t ready to dive into that.” 

Chloe tilted her head up to kiss Beca softly. “It’s okay if you never are.” 

“No, it’s…” She shifted to her side. “I feel okay to. With you. You’re like, the person I’m most comfortable with and I want to tell you so many things and it’s weird because I’m not used to that.” 

Chloe nodded slowly, running her fingers up Beca’s bare arm. “I’m happy you feel comfortable with me.” 

Beca smiled and kissed her gently. A few beats of silence followed. “I tried to kill myself when I was seventeen,” she murmured, glancing down. “I was depressed, felt really uncomfortable in my own skin and I just… I didn’t see any point in life.” 

Chloe swallowed, a frown forming. “I’m sorry you felt that way, baby.” 

“Obviously I failed. My dad found me and took me to the ER where they pumped my stomach. I was admitted to the psych ward for like a month,” she explained. “The meds and therapy helped.” 

“I can’t stress enough how glad I am that you’re still here,” Chloe whispered, feeling tears burn behind her eyes. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you… still struggle with depression?” 

“It comes and goes,” Beca replied, her tongue darting out to swipe over her bottom lip. “And it probably always will, but I’m not like, suicidal or anything. I actually like my life now and well, you have a lot to do with that.” Her cheeks reddened, and she cleared her throat. “Ugh, talking about my feelings sucks.” 

Chloe giggled, sobering up a second later. “Thank you for trusting me,” she murmured as she rested her forehead against Beca’s. “It means a lot.” 

Beca closed her eyes. “Thank you for being who you are.” 

[serenailith]

yesterday’s gone (we’ll make it through)—xxxi

on ao3 here

previous

okay, so. i know this took forever to get posted, and i'm sorry about that. truly. unfortunately, it was a pretty-much-can't-ignore forced break from writing/posting. the truth is i had a baby just last week, so i've been in hospital (3 days) and adjusting to having a newborn again. so... you get this chapter far later than i'd hoped.

yes, this is (unfortunately, again) the end of this fic. i've had such a wonderful time writing it, and i can't believe so many of you have liked reading it! the comments alone made it all so worth the time and effort i've put into writing it. thank you for being such wonderful, amazing readers. 🖤

remember: you can always find me in the dreamling discord server!

_______________

Dream smiles to himself as he strides through the corridors. The Corinthian has been remade, different and so much better than what he’d been, and Gault is thrilled with her new position. The Vortex is gone. Fiddler’s Green has come home. Even Matthew has become a trusted ally, if a bit impudent at times.

All is right within the Dreaming once more.

Even more, all–or nearly so–is right within the Waking, as well. Dreamers sleep and wake as they should. The only matter of concern is Lyta Hall. She may hold anger in her heart for Dream, but it cannot be helped. Her child is of the fabric of the Dreaming itself; he belongs to the Dreaming and—by default—Dream, should the day come. Dream, for his part, only hopes that Rose Walker can convince her friend to not seek revenge.

There is very little that can bind an Endless, but he knows too well that the grimoire is still around. Someone has it, and anyone determined enough will find and use it. He isn’t naïve enough to believe otherwise, not after the proof he’d been given for over a hundred years.

The most precious thing to him, however, the thing he carries closest to his heart, is his time spent with Hob Gadling. Now that everything has become steady once more, Dream has left the Dreaming in Lucienne’s capable hands and spent those hours in the Waking. More often than not in Hob’s bed, his arms. It is the better way Dream has ever spent his existence.

Unfortunately, even Hob cannot remove the worries from Dream’s mind. Desire has plotted against him, and he knows they will never stop. Not until they get what they want–but what exactly is that? He very nearly spilled family blood because of them, when they were fully aware that the Fates would retaliate for his breaking the oldest laws. Dream is no closer to an answer.

If he is to be honest, he can hardly pinpoint the moment his favourite sibling became his least. Or why.

Forcing himself to dislodge the thoughts, Dream steps from one realm to the next, fighting a smile when he sees Hob through the window of the New Inn. A young woman just outside the door beams at the sight of Dream. He remembers her. Rena, who dreams of escaping her toxic home and making something of herself as a pilot. She has been kind to Dream whenever they encounter each other.

She doesn’t mind the fact he is horrible at communicating with people who aren’t Hob.

“Hey! How are you today?”

“I am well,” he replies, though his focus is on the man just inside. Almost belatedly, he tacks on, “And yourself?”

Her grin grows as she pulls up the sleeve of her jumper. Embedded in her skin is ink, swirls of colours surrounding a black semicolon. The stark contrast of black against rainbow brings a smile to Dream’s face. He understands what the symbol means for mental health; it has been on the minds of many a dreamer since the conception of the idea. That Rena has tattooed it into her skin bodes well for her survival.

“Got it last week. Mum and Dad hate it, but who cares, right? As long as I love it. And I do. Anyway! You’re looking at a pilot-in-training, by the way.”

“That is wonderful news.”

Rena giggles as she yanks her sleeve back down. “Mr G is covering for Ernie, but I’m sure he’ll be so glad to see you. He bought a new wine he thinks you might enjoy.”

“Thank you.” Dream dips his chin in a farewell. “I wish you well in your endeavours, Rena.”

“Thanks!”

She doesn’t mind that she doesn’t know his name. She still treats him as a friend. He moves past her and lets out a soft sigh when his fingers wrap around the door handle. The cool metal feels like a piece of home, though the Waking will never be where he fully belongs. But Hob. . . Hob is.

At the jingling of the bell, Hob glances up from where he is clearing tables of dirty dishes, and Dream relaxes at the wide smile splitting his love’s face. Raising his index finger in a ‘Just a moment’ gesture, Hob hurries to place the plates and glasses in a bin. He disappears behind the doors to the kitchen and reappears a minute later with a dishtowel in hand. He jerks his chin toward their booth, the one they always sit in whenever Dream deigns to remain in the New Inn instead of heading upstairs to Hob’s flat.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you today” is the first thing Hob says once they’ve sat.

“The Dreaming is much more stable now, so Lucienne is caring for it in my absence.”

Hob’s lips twitch, a hand stretching across the table. Dream cares little for others’ opinions as he allows Hob to take his hand. “I’m sure she appreciates the vote of confidence.”

“It was unacceptable,” Dream starts slowly; the words come forth as molasses in the winter, “for me to return after so long and pretend everything is as it was. Lucienne has been most loyal for over a hundred years. She deserves the respect I can easily afford to give.” It doesn’t escape his notice that Hob merely stares at him with a soft, sweet smile on his face. “Hob?”

“Sorry. It’s just. . . It’s nice to see how you’ve changed. I knew it logically. After all, look at where we are. But it’s still good to see proof of it sometimes. Makes me realise this isn’t just all in my head.”

“It very well could be,” Dream says with a small smile of his own. “However, this is as real as anything else in the Waking.”

“So you were gone for a few days. Anything I should be worried about?”

“No, the danger has passed.”

Hob raises a brow, clearly unimpressed with Dream’s answer, so Dream explains about Rose Walker and her friend’s situation. How there is a child borne of the Dreaming existing where he should not. About the Corinthian and Gault and Jed Walker’s unfortunate fate for so long. Hob’s expression darkens at the mention of the abuse the child endured. To Dream’s surprise, Hob commends the Corinthian for removing Jed from his personal Hell.

“I’m not saying he was good, but he certainly did a good thing by getting the kid away from that.”

“He took him to a gathering of serial killers,” Dream reminds him.

“Okay, so there’s that.”

Dream huffs out what would be a sharp exhale for anyone else but is as true a laugh from him as anything. He continues with the tale of Calliope and Richard Madoc, and Dream falls in love with Hob more at the anger–no, rage–on the man’s face. He assures Hob that Madoc has been properly dealt with. He will no longer be capable of capturing anyone else.

He can no longer do much of anything.

With no warning, Dream laces his fingers with Hob’s, squeezing gently, then rises to his feet. “I shall not keep you from your duties.”

“Don’t go far.”

“I will be upstairs, where I will await your presence.”

Hob’s answering grin sends something fluttering in Dream’s chest, and isn’t that just curious. He yearns, for a split second, for the companionship he had with Calliope, but he has it here with Hob Gadling. It isn’t the same; it never will be. But it’s enough. It is more than enough.

It is everything Dream will never deserve.

As he sits in Hob’s flat, Dream ruminates on everything that has happened since his escape from Fawney Rig. So much has occurred–he was nearly mortal for too long, his Sister returned him to his realm. Hob and Matthew, that impossibly likeable raven, had helped Dream retrieve his tools. He fell in love for the first time since the beautiful Muse who had birthed him a son.

Death always said he needed to mingle with humans more, try harder to understand them. Desire claimed he felt himself better than everyone, including his siblings. Dream is loath to admit that perhaps, only perhaps, they were both correct. Hob has opened his eyes to the wonders of humanity, the reality that comes with living. Dreams were well and good, but sometimes, seeing it yourself is what works most to change a mind.

Dream lets out a slow, unnecessary breath and runs a fingertip along a seam in the couch cushion. The fabric is soft with use, the foam padding sagging beneath the cover, and the remote sits on the far end where Hob most likely tossed it on his way to bed the night before. It’s worn in with love. Dream imagines his heart is the same way.

Hob slips through the door two hours later. Two hours during which Dream read and listened to the stereo. Etta James was a soothing voice, something he needed desperately. He was never nervous by any measure; he was the collective subconscious. There was nothing he couldn’t do, nothing he couldn’t bend to his will with the slightest effort. But this. . . This isn’t the same as warping the Dreaming or even what he can in the Waking.

Before Hob can say more than a “Hello, love”, Dream advances on him. The kiss is graceless in a way Dream doesn’t expect. It punches a quiet noise from Hob’s throat, but he kisses back just as enthusiastically. He smells of industrial cleaner and cedar, and Dream has never breathed a scent in so deeply. His head spins, another too-human response but one he relishes anyway.

He steers the two of them toward the bedroom, pulling away only to peel Hob’s shirt off and over his head. Hob’s lips move against his, but Dream only kisses away the words. They don’t need to speak. Not here, not now. He allows Hob to push him onto the bed, melts under the steady weight blanketing him. His fingers press to the mat of hair covering Hob’s chest.

Hob burns a path along Dream’s throat, whispering into the skin, “I love you, did you know that?”

“And I you,” Dream whispers back. “Until all universes cease to exist.”

Hob’s smile sparks a fire within Dream’s bones, and he pushes at Hob until he sprawls on his back. Dream straddles his thighs, leaving bruising kisses to Hob’s lips before moving across his jaw. His teeth worry at the junction of jaw to neck, and Hob reacts beautifully. His hips jerk upwards as his breath comes out in a rough exhale.

Dream loses patience with pretenses: He rushes through undressing Hob then himself before straddling his love once more. Hob grasps his hips, holds him steady, as Dream lowers himself onto his cock. There is no need to need the preparation, to act as a human would, not with Hob. He’s shown he doesn’t mind Dream’s inhuman, Endless existence.

Hob’s groan is the most wondrous music Dream has heard in centuries.

As much as he wants to drag this out, he can’t. He plants his hands against Hob’s chest and pushes his hips down to meet with the gentle thrusting. A strangled sound fills the air, and Dream glances down to see the sharp nails digging into Hob’s skin. He goes to move, but Hob shakes his head vehemently.

“No, leave them.”

“I do not wish to harm you.”

“It’s worth it,” Hob replies; his hands wrap around Dream’s wrists, pinning his palms where they are. “Doesn’t hurt much, anyway.”

“You are a true marvel, Hob Gadling.”

“Clearly not, if you’re still speaking perfectly fine.”

Dream lets out a soft chuckle and decides to give Hob what he’s silently asking for. Hob’s smile stutters, fades, as Dream moves more quickly. Jaw dropping open, Hob stares up at Dream like he’s some sort of masterpiece hanging in the most prestigious museum; Dream is intimately familiar with the thought.

Hob is more precious, more valuable, just more.

Once they are both spent and have caught their breath, Dream doesn’t hesitate before curling into Hob’s side. It should feel pathetic, as if he is weak for seeking out comfort, but Dream believes he has earned the right to this. To this happiness, this ecstasy, this security and safety.

Wouldn’t Desire be thrilled to see how their brother has fallen?

At no one else’s feet would Dream have ever imagined prostrating himself.

He follows Hob into the Dreaming, the Library where Lucienne is putting away books. She smiles widely when she sees Hob and ducks her head demurely in Dream’s direction. He wonders when his most loyal and his love became so close. Perhaps it has happened over the days that Dream was dealing with the Vortex and Unity Kincaid. Hob has proven himself a quick learner. There is no doubt in Dream’s mind that Hob will have entered the Dreaming proper whenever he wanted.

The thought warms Dream from the inside out.

They leave Lucienne minutes later, Hob promising to be back for a lively conversation over Saint Thomas Aquinas and Michel Foucault. Dream smiles at how the promise visibly delights her. The corridors are empty as he and Hob amble across the stone floor. They don’t speak–there is no need, for there is enough they’ve said many times over. Even their silence says it all again.

Fiddler’s Green is as expansive and breathtaking as ever. Hob immediately finds a spot beside the river lazily burbling by. Birds fly overhead, and branches sway gently in the breeze. Dream can feel the contentment rolling off of Fiddler’s Green in waves. His lips curve upward at the sensation, the soft tendrils of warmth and peacefulness.

Before, he would have found it impudent, out of line, but now. . . Now he recognises it for what it is: True loyalty to their Lord and a desire to see him happy. Of all things, happy. And happy he is, all thanks to Hob.

Hob slides his hand through the water, smiling at the tiny fish that swim up to nibble at his fingers. They dart away just as quickly, but he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he grins even brighter. His eyes shine, gleam honey-gold, in the sunlight when he looks up at Dream.

Dream can no longer keep the words to himself.

“I have told you I love you.”

“Many times, my love,” Hob agrees with a quick nod. His smile hasn’t dimmed.

“And I mean those words far more deeply than you can ever know. I warned you that love with an Endless only ever spells doom.” Dream holds up a hand when Hob opens his mouth. “Please, allow me to finish. I have been considering what you claimed, that you were no mortal. Perhaps you were correct.

“However, even if you were wrong, I. . . I would cherish the opportunity to have your love for as long as I possibly can. Even if it ends in unbearable agony, your love for me—you are worth everything that may come.

“You came to my aid when I escaped my captivity. When we entered Hell for my helm, you stepped forward to defend me without hesitation. Without my asking it of you. Hob Gadling, there is no universe in which I could not love you were you to exist there.”

“Dream. . .”

He reaches for Hob’s hand, gesturing with his other. The band rests there in his palm, and he carefully slides it onto Hob’s finger. The gem, a shard of the ruby which held his power not so long ago, glitters against the black, and Dream nods slowly at the sight. It suits Hob perfectly.

“You are aware that I rarely make promises I cannot keep.” At Hob’s nod, the quick glance between ring and Dream, he continues, “So believe me when I vow to love you as you deserve until I physically cease to exist. I will do all I can to make your life, both in the Dreaming and Waking, all that you dream of.”

Hob lets out a quiet laugh and shrugs. “Perhaps not the nightmares.”

“No, not the nightmares,” Dream concedes, though it is no hardship.

“Dream, I—I don’t know what to say. You know I love you and have for as long as I can remember. Centuries ago, I realised I needed to know more about my mysterious Stranger. That desire became love somewhere along the way, even when I knew I didn’t deserve to want such a thing. I wish to make you happy.”

Dream clutches at Hob’s hand, tight and unrelenting. Hob must know: Dream has not held such joy to live since Calliope, since Nada, since Killala. Those ended in tragedy, but this? This will be different. Hob has given him reason to live, much like he’d said Dream had given him reason to die.

At the assurances, Hob launches forward, dropping Dream’s hands, and kisses him soundly. Dream lets himself fall backwards to lie in the sweet-smelling grass. Sunshine beats down on the meadow, warm and relaxing and perfect as only the Dreaming can be. Hob rests over him, still kissing him, still sending sparks through Dream with every second of contact.

Abruptly—far too soon—Hob pulls back and frowns. “Wait, are we married?”

“Of course not,” Dream murmurs as he reaches up to brush hair behind Hob’s ear. “We are nothing so temporary.”

Hob stares at Dream, unblinking, before shaking his head. “So what are we?”

“We are bound, dear heart, until eternity meets its end.”

Hob beams, hands coming up to cradle Dream’s cheeks. The kiss he graces Dream with is soft, sweet, tender, and Dream cannot care that Fiddler’s Green is witness to this. With a wave of his hand, sand swirls around them, and then he and Hob are blessedly alone in his chambers.

He takes his forever love to bed.

[sp1rit-realm]

hannah!!! sentences!! also hi i’m really bored <3

“can I borrow that?”He almost seemed sorry that he was asking to use the tool; that he was taking away the source of your fascination. You twisted your body so you could face him and he smiled, the expression saccharine sweet. Steve was about to follow up on his question, moving his hand to rest on top of yours before his previous statement registered in your mind.

i don’t know how to use a fucking semicolon don’t say anything pls

again, never saw this. but this is sooo good. imo, a semicolon is used in a sentence where you could use a a comma then "and" so, example

He doesn't answer you; doesn't even spare you a glance.

vs

He doesn't answer you, and doesn't even spare you a glance.

(you can also use a em dash there. i fucking love em dashes. ex:

He doesn't answer you—doesn't even spare you a glance.)

[hanniehaeism]

Hii so sorry for bothering you but, I love writing I’ve been doing it for a long time. I’d like to post on tumblr but I’m kinda new to it and don’t really know how to use it (gifs, text colors,…) so if it’s okay for you could you maybe teach me how to use it or give me some tips?

Hi yes of course don’t worry!!

This is kinda long so I’ll cut it

—

Also if you’re curious how to do that ^^ just type in “:readmore:” and return. The cut will show up. But if you’re on computer there’s a three dotted icon that you can just press and it’ll do it for you.

This is on mobile but it’s similar to if you’re on the computer.

The one circled in blue is where you can find gifs created by gif creators on the app. And there’s a little search bar where you can type in whatever you’re looking for use that on your post. I’ve never actually created a gif before and I have no idea how to do it sorry.

The one circled in red is where you can insert images that you have saved on your device and put it on your post.

The icon circled in green is for you to insert a link. (Iinks to my navigation for an example)

When you tap the icon this shows up and you can copy past a link to the words

Also when you capture the word a bar shows up like before ^^

You can use that to choose the colours for the text, size, style. Also the “Aa” can give a few other options for you to choose from.

But if you want to do the gradient colour texts I use text Color fader. When copying the text, put a space between “Color:” and “#[hexcode];” remove the semicolon. And you can only do it if on computer to change the text editor to HTML. There was a tutorial I used but I can’t find it rn 😞.

Also if you’re going to be writing I highly suggest using tags!! It will help your work reach the target audience you want to read.

Sorry if this was too long or complicated or I didn’t explain enough. But you can definitely ask me if you have any other questions!!