#why is a raven like a writing desk?

[volturiprincess]

A late night conversation with Felix

My little delusional mind at 1 am Series I am suppose to be sleeping but then this random conversation came to mind and I thought it was funny. This is a real conversation I would love to have with him.

Me: "Felix? Do you know why a raven is like a writing desk?"

Dead silence....

Felix Sighs: "Cara mia sometimes you really are a mystery to me, what goes through that pretty head of yours?”

Me: "You know, mostly school but sometimes I get distracted and think about your hands quiet often, about how nice your large hand will look around my little neck. But mostly school for sure"

Felix with a smirk: "You have quiet a fascination with my hands don't you tesoro? The amount of times I have caught you looking at them never fails to amuse me and I swear I have seen you drool over them before"

Me: Umm, I think Its just my size kink that takes over me when I see you or think about you. Its not my fault your this beast of a man, but hey I'm not complaining, I quiet enjoy your size and overall your body"

Felix fakes a pout: "And here I thought you liked me for my personality but it turns out you only like me for my body"

Me: "Hey i do like your personality, thats the cherry on top Fe, your more that I can handle sometimes"

Felix chuckles: "Thank you cara mia, now I feel reassured you like me for both my personality and body"

And scene-

I was thinking about just creating a one shot about this, something along the lines where Reader has a hard time falling asleep so she just says whatever is in her mind to Felix, and Felix just goes along. Ill work on it later this week.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

trying to write a character fucking up at their job when they're supposed to be good at it without undermining their alleged skill is a... fine line

[philcon2016]

I have but one question for Tumblr, since it has been a question I’ve had for years:

Why is a raven like a writing desk? I haven’t the faintest idea.

[penguinofspades]

Day 23: Favorite portrayal of Alice (character)

Well you can't beat the books in that regard, tho a lot of the adaptions, retellings and such are pretty good in this regard as well.

Day 24: Favorite answer to the riddle “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

There are a LOT of good ones like "A writing desk is a rest for pens and A Raven is a pest for wrens", "Without both Brave New World wouldn't exist", "Edgar Allan Poe wrote on both" and of course Lewis Carroll's answer "Because it can produce a few notes, tho they are very flat; and it is nevar put with the wrong end in front!".

A ton of good answers can be found here:

[rustbeltjessie]

February 9: my writing desk, currently, adorned with various research, notes, and inspirations for the projects I’m working on.

[keirametzbrassknuckles]

There is so much of what I do that is just sticking fingers in my ears and humming. Nothing I study is relevant or could help anyone or save anyone or fix anything. The history of art is the vanity project of all vanity projects. I could be doing something so much more important with my life.

[magniloquent-raven]

Steve has always enjoyed giving pleasure.

He likes being wanted, being desired, and—even just for a moment—desperately, selfishly needed. He likes figuring out what makes them tremble, what makes them gasp, moan, call out his name, and he loves watching it all happen.

His favourite thing to do to Nancy was finger her. Make his palm slick and his wrist cramp and her mouth fall open in a perfect o around a silent cry. Laying between her legs and looking into her pretty blue eyes while she rutted against his hand, slowly but surely getting hazy with pleasure, losing that layer of self-consciousness that always shrouded her. He loved her like that. Loved what he imagined as walls between them crumbling, seeing her raw and bare.

But she lied to him. Left him. And he wasn't sure he'd ever feel like that with someone again.

Billy's strange, at first. Too wound up all the time, too much, too aggressive. He's a whirlwind Steve barely keeps up with, but he learns to love the chaos too.

Still, he yearns. Fantasizes. Billy's walls are stone and iron, seemingly impossible to scale, but Steve still wonders what's on the other side.

And one day he finds out.

One day Billy lets him keep the lights on. Lets Steve use his fingers.

Billy looks away, at first. Lays his forearm over his eyes and bites his lip, splayed out on Steve's bed but not vulnerable in the ways that matter. He muffles the tiny sounds trying to escape him. Clenches around Steve's fingers, tense, embarrassed. Holding back.

It tugs at Steve's chest in worrying ways, plucking at strings he hadn't noticed til now.

He persists. Working his fingers in gently, slowly, finding just where to press, his free hand wandering, exploring less vital places. It settles on the side of Billy's neck, thumb stroking the underside of his clenched jaw. And piece by piece Billy crumbles.

He's flushed, everywhere, pink on his chest, his cheeks, his throbbing, untouched cock, leaking pre, streams pooling in the crease of his trembling thigh. And the sounds. Small ones, quiet, urgent, whimpers bitten-off, Steve could listen to him for hours.

The best part is when his arm finally drops. When his hand slips to clasp Steve's, press it more firmly to his throat, a demand Steve barely registers because his head is spinning and full of crystal blue eyes. Thick, damp eyelashes. The sheen of fresh tears gathering in the corners. And warmth. Heat. Affection shining out of Billy Hargrove like sunlight shimmering through tropical waters.

He's beautiful. More than that, he's fucking perfect. Every frizzy curl stuck to his forehead and bit of uneven stubble on his jaw and freckle fading on his nose, he's prettier than a painting and he's all Steve's.

--tag list peeps @growup-thatbeautiful @spreckle @prettyboy-like-you

[corvicides]

wuya has appeared! What to do?

kick hold hands woohoo kiss

[dear-future-ai]

The Pit and the Double Pendulum

Oh you’re waiting for the pendulum to slowly hit you, booooooooring!! The panic wears off as you accept the inevitability of the situation.

Add another pendulum, suddenly everything’s exciting, you don’t know exactly how it will behave! Keeps you on your toes, ya know? You might even survive… if you’re lucky. Who knows?!

@the-real-numbers

[larissainwonderland]

Why is a Raven Like a Writing Desk?

Paring: Larissa Weems x Original Female Character

Chapter: 5/?

Rating: M for future smut

Summary: Alice is a Hyde Hunter. Larissa decides to hire her at the beginning of the year, since she knows something is happening in Jericho.

Even though Larissa and Alice fell asleep almost immediately, their sleep wasn’t peaceful at all.

A nasty nightmare filled with Hydes and gargoyles woke Alice up and she realised Larissa was already wide awake as she was staring at her with her piercing blue eyes.

“What time is it?” asked Alice.

“Almost four o’clock” Larissa replied in a whisper. “I can’t sleep…”

Alice sat up and stretched her arms out, yawning. “Come to my room, I have something that’ll help us”.

She jumped out of bed and together they snuck out of the Principal’s bedroom. They both had rooms in Edenvale Hall, everyone else was asleep, so nobody saw them entering the younger woman’s room.

Alice’s bedroom was a piece of art. The bed was covered in plushies, the walls were decorated with plants and flowers, everything was light blue or baby pink in colour.

“I love your room,” she admitted. “It’s so… you”.

Alice handed her a rolled joint with a smile. “Thanks, I agree ”.

“What— where—?” Larissa stammered with indignation, eyeing the joint.

“If you’re upset about this little thing, please don’t look under my bed” Alice half joked.

Obviously, Larissa was on her knees moments later, snooping around under Alice’s bed and what she found made her skin crawl.

A glass bong, a few sheets of coloured paper, some plastic bags filled with pills, powders and mushrooms, more weed…

“Alice!” she boomed, getting up, arms crossed on her chest.

Alice shrugged. “Sometimes I need some help with my imagination… it’s all natural, I can guarantee you. Besides, I’m not selling, nor I am intending to sell anything to the students, it’s all mine — but I can share something with you” she smiled again and lit the joint.

She took a long puff and handed it to Larissa; after a long pause, the Principal accepted it.

“It’ll help you relax, you’ll sleep better” Alice assured her. Then she retrieved something else from under her bed. She ate a few mushrooms from a plastic bag and then she offered the bag to Larissa.

“What are these?”

“They’ll make you see stuff. And feel stuff. And be stuff. You’ll either be taller or smaller, I don’t remember which side I picked them from…” said Alice with an innocent smile — her big grey eyes shining bright in the moonlight.

“Shrooms. They’re shrooms ” Larissa sighed, but ate some anyway, then she lay on Alice bed, huffing in annoyance. “This bed’s too short!”

Alice laughed softly. “See? You’re growing taller already!”  She picked up her phone and launched Spotify, playing Rumours, Fleetwood Mac’s album, on repeat.

She joined Larissa on her tiny bed, the joint was shared, the shrooms definitely worked . They took a few hits from the bong too.

“I can see the music…” Alice sighed, happily, while Dreams was playing.

Larissa was staring at the ceiling. “I can see a flying cat…”

Alice frowned. “Sorry, that’s on me… Cheshire! Stop spying on us!”

A hairless cat was floating inside the room, chilling. Their grin was eery, their huge yellow eyes staring down at the two women.

“Hello, Alice. Long-time no see…” said the cat in a singsong voice.

Larissa hid her face into Alice’s neck. “I don’t like it!”

“It’s okay, Cheshire likes to creep people out. They’re harmless” Alice reached out to touch the cat, the flesh of her hand started liquefying off her fingers. She giggled.

The cat swam through the air and joined them on the bed.

When they started purring, both Alice and Larissa had fallen asleep again.

* ˚ ✦

Alice’s eyes snapped open; she came to from a deep sleep as if she had been in a coma.

She sat up in her bed and started breathing slowly.

“Damn, that was a good trip!” she laughed, turning to where Larissa was supposed to be, but she realised the other side of the bed was empty and cold.

Alice looked out of the window, the sun was in the sky… it wasn’t rising, it was setting.

“Fuck!” she muttered under her breath.

Looking for her phone, she realised she was still wearing her nightclothes.  

She got undressed and jumped in the shower.

Her head started pounding badly and she puked, after that she immediately felt better.

Once she dried off, she looked at the time. Almost five o’clock in the evening.

Her stomach rumbled angrily. She got dressed and grabbed a snack from her night table.

Alice marched into Larissa’s office, but she wasn’t there.

She lit the fireplace and sat at her own desk, munching at the energy bar.

Picking up her phone again, Alice tried giving her a call, but Larissa’s phone was disconnected, so she made herself a cup of tea and waited.

Gathering her thoughts, Alice tried to calm herself down. Larissa was smart and they had planned everything out the night before.

She was going to impersonate Rowan , pretend he was expelled from school. She was probably at the train station now… Alice was supposed to drive her there, but she was in a drug induced coma, half dead on her bed, completely lost in her Wonderland, so Larissa must have asked someone else to do it.

A knock on the door distracted her from her thoughts, she straightened her back and said: “Come in” in her most professional voice.

Coach Vlad entered the office, cautiously. “I was looking for Principal Weems?”

Alice smiled. “She’s running some errands in Jericho at the moment, would you like to leave her a note?”

“Oh, no. It’s just that— the Poe Cup is tomorrow,  and we have to discuss some final details”.

Fuck! The Poe Cup!

“Of course! I’ll text her right away, she’ll reach back to you as soon as she can” Alice flashed him her best smile, then she pointed at the chair in front of her. “Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?”

“I’m a vampire. I don’t …”

“Would you like to join me for a cup of blood?” she repeated in the same tone.

Coach Vlad blinked twice, in confusion.

Alice started to sweat. Too many social interactions.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted. “I mean you can wait for the Principal here if you want, I don’t know how long it will take”.

“Uhm, thanks, I guess, Miss Donkin, I… I think I will just wait for her to call me!?” he said, awkwardly.

Alice nodded, waving her hand at him. “Bye-bye”.

He left, more confused than ever and Alice was once again left alone in the huge office.

She sighed, trying to call Larissa again but her phone was still disconnected.

The Principal returned to the academy half an hour later and she was furious.

She started pacing her office, eyes filled with anger as tried to keep her voice down.

“You— you—” she pointed a gloved finger at Alice, who lowered her gaze in shame. “I tried to wake you up this morning and you looked dead. Dead ! I had to check your pulse! I had to turn you on your back, so that you wouldn’t choke on your own vomit while I was away! I had to leave you alone ! We had a plan! You were supposed to drive me to the station! I had to ask Miss Thornhill !” her voice went gradually higher as she spoke, and Alice felt more and more guilty.

“I’m sorry…” Alice mumbled.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry!?” Larissa’s voice cracked in a bitter laugh; hands on her hips, lips reduced to a thin line. “You’re unbelievable, you’re impossible… I need to trust you! I need someone to rely on!”

“I know…” Alice’s voice was anything but a whisper.

“Take the rest of the day off” she blurted out, marching towards her liquor cabinet.

“But— the Poe Cup is tomorrow and Coach Vl —” Alice started but Larissa cut her off with a deadly glare.

“Take the rest of the day off” she repeated, slowly. “Clean yourself up, get ready for tomorrow…”

Alice nodded and left the office, she felt so ashamed. Her heart started beating furiously in her chest as she reached her room.

“Everything okay?” a purring voice came from nowhere, then the head of a hairless cat appeared next to the window, grinning as usual.

“Yep,” she replied, swiping the small tears away from the corner of her eyes. “Go away, Cheshire, I want to be alone”.

“You can’t, Alice…” said the cat. “You know that. You’ll never be truly alone. You’re stuck with us, forever”.

“At least be quiet! You’re driving me insane!” Alice started sobbing, opening the window to let some air in and the head disappeared, only to appear again, next to her bed, this time it was the full body of the cat.

“Oh, my dear, sweet, Alice… don’t you know? We’re all mad here”.

* ˚ ✦

Dec 9 th , 2026

Alice was in the school infirmary, watching over a sick girl.

“I know she did it!” she was saying, coughing while the nurse was tending to her. “Bianca…”

Yoko had an allergic reaction to garlic bread at dinner the previous night; she had spent the whole night in the infirmary but she was in no condition to participate in the Poe Cup.

“We’re down a Cat!” she coughed again.

“Actually, Wednesday Addams took your place” Alice checked her files, then her phone. It was almost time. “You don’t have to worry about that, just focus on staying alive, please”.

A warning shot was fired and Alice jumped in fear. The Poe Cup had just started.

Yoko tried to get up from the bed, but the nurse stopped her.

“I want to go and see!”

“You’re too weak” the nurse said.

“I’m sure you’ll feel better soon, Yoko. Rest, now. I have to go and see if they need me elsewhere” Alice forced a smile and left the infirmary.

When she reached the lake, she realised the whole school was there… it was so crowded, so loud. God, she hated it. Fred hopped around her feet, and she picked him up.

“It’s okay, Freddy… it’s just a stupid race…” she whispered eyeing Larissa standing by the shore of the lake, surrounded by students and teachers.

With a heaviness in her heart, Alice joined the Principal. “The girl is doing better, she was worried about the race…” Alice informed her.

Larissa acknowledged her presence with a small nod. She was too focused on the race, apparently. “Good,” she said, eyes glued on the four canoe that were sailing the lake.

“Who’s winning?” Alice tried to ask but received no answer. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Ris … I promise it won’t happen again” she said in a small voice.

Larissa sighed again and she lowered her gaze to the tiny woman beside her. “Fine, apology accepted” she finally said. “Now please, don’t distract me…”

Alice hugged Fred tighter as one of the canoes crushed against a red floating buoy. She gasped.

Larissa squealed. “And ‘the Pit and the Pendulum’ team is down!” she announced” as Bianca and her teammates cheered. Clearly she had sabotaged their canoe…

“Is that allowed?” Alice whispered to Larissa; they were side by side, their backs to the huge crowd.

“Everything is allowed,” Larissa whispered back, leaning into Alice’s personal space, smiling. “Bianca B arclay ’s team has a formidable winning streak…”

“But they’re sirens, I mean… isn’t it a little unfair?”

“Life is unfair” Larissa replied without missing a beat.

“I bet my walrus could easily sink all the canoe… even Bianca’s”

“ Alice, don’t…” Larissa warned her through gritted teeth, forcing a smile, eyes glued on the race, still clapping.

“I won’t! I’m just saying…” Alice shrugged.

When the three remaining teams reached the other side of the shore and entered the woods, Alice frowned, confused.

“What do we do, now?”

“We wait for them to return…”

“But that’s boring!”

Larissa shot her a glare that clearly meant: ‘lower your voice’ and Alice sighed.

Five minutes passed and Alice started playing with the rabbit in her arms, this Poe Cup was a real bummer…

“Can I at least have the binoculars?” asked Alice, sighing.

“No,” Larissa replied sternly, then she started looking through the lenses again. “ The final two teams are the Golden Bugs…” Alice wasn’t even paying attention at this point. “And the Black Cats” she sounded surprised.

Everyone around them cheered, Alice kept playing with Fred, and when she finally looked  up, she could see the two last canoe sailing towards the shore.

“This is really boring…” she repeated.

“Silence…” Larissa warned her again, through another fake smile. “Go bring the Cup to the courtyard”.

Alice sighed, she let Fred go and went to grab the huge cup. It was so heavy; she could barely lift it.

Someone must have won because around her everyone was cheering, clapping and jumping… and she was dragging this stupid Cup to the main courtyard, while Larissa was beaming for some reason.

There, Alice found out that the Black Cats had won. She was standing next to Larissa who was explaining the story of the Poe Cup. Alice wasn’t listening… she was too nervous. The crowd was looking at her, well, no… everybody’s eyes were fixed on the winning team and the Principal, but she was next to them.

Then Larissa lifted the Cup as if it weighted nothing and handed it to Enid who started to lift it into the air… Alice almost gaped. That thing was heavy!

Once the ceremony was finally over, Alice tried to escape back to her room, but Larissa stopped her. “Do you want to have lunch together?”

“We always eat together…” she replied, confused.

Larissa rolled her eyes and smiled, then she locked arms with Alice and started walking her around the courtyard. “You know, the last time Ophelia Hall won the Poe Cup, I was in the team…”

“Did you shift into a sea creature to sabotage the rest of the canoe?” Alice’s eyes widened at the thought.

Larissa didn’t stop walking, a little smile played on her lips. “We had our strategy. I was the co-pilot… would you excuse me a moment?” the Principal stopped when she spotted Wednesday Addams. “Wait for me in my office, we’ll have lunch and then I’ll tell you all about my old days as a co-pilot for the Poe Cup and why it is so important for me! ”

Alice nodded with a smile as she saw the Principal walking  towards the young pig-tailed girl.

She went to grab something to eat for her and Larissa and then she entered the office. They usually ate on her spacious desk; she set it as if it was a table: plates, cutlery, glasses, a bottle of wine for Larissa and water for herself.

Alice lit the fireplace and then she waited; she knew Larissa wouldn’t take too long.

Okay, maybe it was a boring competition in Alice’s eyes, but it clearly meant something more to Larissa and she wanted to know why, she wanted to learn more about her.

That beautiful woman intrigued her and she was curious to learn all of her secrets and even share some of her own stories with her.

[captain-mako]

The Mad Hatter

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Hi Em, I’m writing to you because I need to tell this to someone cause my anxiety is eating me alive. My dream is to become a writer and I just got an interview appointment with a very famous British university to study creative writing and my levels of anxiety sky rocketed. So, from one writer to another:

Do you ever feel scared about being successful? As a writer I mean, it’s just that if I don’t try, I will fall into depression, but if I do: anxiety.

Do you ever feel that the pressure of being good at something is so choking you actually prefer not to do anything at all?

(I wrote in green cause I don’t know why I can’t see the text when I select white)

Nonnie, are you my guardian angel or something? I was thinking this exact thought, almost word for word, right before I opened tumblr. And here you are. Your timing is impeccable.

Firstly, I have to congratulate you on your interview. Having gone through a similar scenario myself, that is a massive achievement in its own right, no matter the results of the interview.

I'm afraid I don't have much salient advice to give on this subject, as struggling under the weight of anxiety created by expectations and success is something I still struggle with. I can offer my commiseration and solidarity, however. Know that you're not alone in this feeling.

Something that I've found helpful in job/potential client interviews, which is handy to keep myself from the dreaded anxiety spiral, is to view the interview less as a test and more as a feeler to see if the other person/school/company is going to be the right fit for you.

Because ultimately, you're the person who matters here.

Your comfort, your mental health, your success. I don't care if this is the most prestigious university in the world–there are a plethora of Oxford/Cambridge graduates, but there is only one of you. No one can do exactly what you do.

A person/company/school could look great on paper, but your chemistry with a person/place is a better weight to gauge your interest against than notoriety. If you get there and the campus is hard to get around or the people are snotty or the professors are pricks and the course load seems like hell seethed over, that's maybe not a good fit for you anyway (unless you're into that sort of self-inflicted pain, no judgement).

So remember to ask yourself, "Is this the right fit for me? Will I thrive here?"

However it goes, nonnie, know that I am wishing you much much luck! I hope the wind fills your sails and takes you wherever you need to go.

–Em 🖤🗡️

more writing advice

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Illuminated.

Pairing: Yandere!Apollo x Reader (Greek Mythology).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Stalking, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, No Specified Gender For The Reader But They Are A Hunter Of Artemis, and Implied Kidnapping.

[Commissioned Piece. Donate To Palestinians In Gaza Here.]

“You, my love, are the poet’s demise.”

You stiffened at the sound of his melodic voice, shrinking into yourself before thinking better of taking on such a mouse-like posture and straightening. Still, you failed to stop yourself from crossing your arms over your chest, pulling your knees up and hoping beyond hope that the silvery water would be enough to hide your form from his unfaltering stare. You thought it’d be safer to bathe at night, apart from your sisters, when the softened moonlight protected you from his burning gaze, but you’d been naïve to think that any hour could be late enough to spare you haven. During the day, you lived under the burning gaze of his blazing chariot, busied yourself with shooting down hawks and ravens carrying gifts in their beaks, and at night, he had no burdens to keep him from closing the distance between you using less... ancillary methods.

“I’m afraid you must be mistaken, my lord.” You forced yourself to laugh, glancing over your shoulder. Sure enough, Apollo stood on the river’s opposing bank, his tanned skin nearly radiant in the darkness. If the sight of him hadn’t brought you such dread, you might’ve thought him beautiful. “As of late, my aim’s been so poor that I can hardly call myself a stag’s demise, let alone a man’s.”

You were quick to look away from him, but you could still hear his gentle hum, picture the way his lips would lilt upward as he shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s deathly true,” he went on, taking a step forward. The water rushed to part as he stepped where it had once been, and in turn, you scrambled for the robes you’d left on the shore, barely managing to pull the ashen cloth around yourself before Apollo came to stand in front of you, his light quickly doing away with what little protection the shadows offered. It was only after you were haphazardly dressed that you considered it might be considered an affront to hide any part of yourself from divinity, but the worry was quickly forgotten. It was only natural to want to create yet another barrier between you and him. Even insects knew to run from their betters. “For even the most talented bard would struggle beyond words to describe your beauty. They could be chained to their desk for an eternity, study under the Muses’ own tutelage, and still be unable to write a single line.”

He held out a hand to you, but you pretended not to realize he meant for you to take it. “You’re far too kind. If you have a message for Lady Artemis, there’s no need to bribe me with such—”

“My love,” he cut in, his smile unwavering. “If I had any desire to speak to my sister, your help would not be necessary.”

“A prophecy concerning our next hunt, then? If there’s something we mustn’t do, I ought to get the Huntmaster, she’ll—”

“My love.” You felt your throat tighten, your mouth go dry. “Although your voice is sweeter than honey and lovelier than birdsong, I’ll admit – I do find myself rather irritated when it’s used to employ such thinly veiled excuses. Any more, and I might think it better to encase your tongue in gold. At least, then, I might have something charming to admire while you lie to me.” His fingers grazed over your jaw as he moved to cup your cheek. It was not a gesture you had the luxury of ignoring. “You know why I have come here.”

Oh, how you wished you’d gone with your sisters.

“I… I can’t, my lord.” Unlike his, your voice was perfectly capable of trembling, of shaking, of plummeting into the sort of jarring, unsteady downward inflections that would’ve been the death of any proper storyteller. “My vows are to Lady Artemis, and—” It was your turn to smile, now, to lilt your head to the side apologetically. “—she’d never forgive me if I broke them. Especially with you.”

For the first time, his good humor seemed to ebb, giving way to not anger, but a melancholy sort of disappointment. “I suppose you’re right,” he relented, his golden glow dimming ever so slightly. Suddenly, it did not hurt quite so unbearably to look at him. “It’s a terrible thing. Me and my sister never did learn to share.”

Relief nearly managed to overshadow your revulsion. “I really am sorry. My desire is not to insult you, but—”

This time, when he interrupted you, it was not with a teasing remark, a nectar-dipped pet name, the vague implication of an affection he expected you to return. Rather, there was a sudden brightness in his golden eyes, a sharpened point to his smile, and then, his lips were pressed into yours. The kiss was shallow, but lingering, and when you tried to draw back, the hand on your cheek kept you firmly in place – his hold not crushing, but steadfast, resolute. His unoccupied arm wrapped around your waist, his hand finding its place at the small of your back as he sapped the last of the breath from your lungs. It was only when your palms pressed into his chest, your blunt nails burrowing into his bare skin in a silent plea for air, that he pulled back. Panting and flushed, you made a desperate effort to pull away, to escape back to your encampment, back to your sisters, back to your goddess, but he only cooed, his bowstring calloused fingertips fanning over your cheek.

“Such a terrible thing,” he muttered, and you considered, briefly, that you might’ve been the first mortal to realize just how wretched his voice truly was.

“How fortunate it is, then, that you’ve caught the attention of such a selfish admirer.”

[rustbeltjessie]

11/19/22

I have two desks in my office, right next to each other. One houses my computer, the one next to it (pictured) is the one I use for writing by hand or on a typewriter. However, sometimes—like right now—it just becomes a catchall for my writing notes, journals, research, and inspiration.

[mushbuzz-do-not-repost]

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

[topickoli]

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?”