#gone are the days when i used to write a few paragraphs and say “just go with it”

[strywoven]

smth smth , no-one asked for this either , but here is verona's jjk verse. under a cut for length , as usual.

Just as a brief overview of Verona's clan :

The Valhyr clan is extremely secluded and reclusive , done so entirely by choice to preserve the purity of own prowess and pedigree ; they are only about a few dozen to a hundred or so strong , which is absolutely NOTHING in comparison to the dominant clans of the time and of the modern eras which remark on their heritage in ill-favor.

Their staying power in the community is relative to their near-perfected techniques - known for such craft as necromantic rites , conjuring , curse-bearing , illusions , and so on - which have been used to manipulate and mangle the control ( & spirits ) of the greater clans for many generations.  These techniques are OF FEMALE HERITAGE ONLY , and the Valhyr clan has followed a very strict matriarchal code ever since this was discovered ( however , practices of male infanticide have thankfully fallen out of favor , but the manipulation of the womb & body to propagate female offspring were still enabled ) .  Their code is so enforced , in fact , that they view men as LESSER & WEAKER than women ( think the exact opposite of modern patriarchy & more extreme ) .

Their techniques - colloquially considered “dark craft” by Scandinavian Jujutsu society - are CONSUMPTIVE IN NATURE , which simply translates to : every time a technique is used , the individual sacrifices an equivalent part of themself to utilize the technique in question ( at a soul-based level ) .  The Valhyr’s have come to understand that they can “recover” this damage to their existence by devouring / cannibalizing others ( yes , including people’s souls , too ) .  The clan will oftentimes have LARGE BANQUETS & FEASTS to celebrate the sacrifice of the people they hunted , slaughtered and prepared for consumption ; it is considered a venerable way to die , to feed their technique and to sustain their livelihood.

However , because these techniques are so dangerous to practice , most women often die before their mastery can be obtained ; the current Matriarch of the clan , alongside her councilwomen of masters , achieved their marks with great price ( sacrificing aspects of own humanity ) .  Typically , most young women ( ~20s ) die before they can secure control over their power , being consumed and/or entirely possessed by their techniques.  For this reason , many women in the clan are often hurried along into arranged , usually political , marriages to produce “strong and stable” offspring ( for every generation , the valhyr power grows ) .  This is also part of the reason as to why the clan is small ; there’s a lot of death and uncertainty in their existence.

Life ( birth - adolescence ) :

Born in late-19th century ( Oct. 31st amid the 1890s ) Scandinavia to the Valhyr clan.  Not the most noble of bloodlines , but certainly one of the most INFAMOUS & DANGEROUS , with relatives dating as far back as the Viking Age ( ~8th century ) , recorded in Old Edda as “savage priestesses” and “barbaric sage-women”.  The name is relatively well-known throughout the Scandinavian region , holding root in FEAR & FEROCITY .

Verona was baptized , like all of the infants , in blood and ash , and smudged by purifying smoke under the watchful eye of the BLAZING GLORY itself ( the benefactor of humankind , kaëltyr , who watches over all souls , indeed took notice of this child … as she took notice of it , looking down upon her with a knowing smile upon its maw ) .

From birth , Verona was considered strange , if not “ill” ; even during baptism , where most infants would shrill and squirm , she was CALM & STILL , her eerily gleaming silver eyes fixed pointedly at a place above the council’s heads , upon a figure none could perceive.  All throughout her infancy , too , Verona gave off this uncanny aura of vigil quietude , hardly ever crying , barely ever stirring ( as if , some said , she was possessed since inception ) .  The Matriarch of the clan disapproved of her immediately , taking note of her eyes and the trance-like stare , the sharp and malignant glint she perceived within them and their demonic appearance ; “OMEN” she called her , and the clan henceforth regarded her as such.

By adolescence , Verona’s traits only grew increasingly more concerning ; her silence preceded her , a “death-like” gait , able to stride about from place-to-place in complete quiet , undetected like a spirit.  She was forced to wear a chime so people could sense her coming ( one , of course , that she would displace onto other children or wandering curses to play tricks on the adults ) .  It became apparent that the Matriarch was right about her eyes , about the strange presence the young girl possessed ; her stare only grew more potent , more pervasive , able to render others within the clan ENTRANCED & ENRAPTURED .  She would use this mean little trick of hers to sneak off-grounds and wander into other clans , leaving her own people struck dumb and dazed for several hours before it was even discovered she’d gone missing.  As punishment , the Matriarch ordained that she wear a blindfold that would suppress this newfound technique of hers ( one only a few others in the clan held at all ) .  Even in wearing it , people continued to say they felt her staring , watching , observing.

Verona swiftly began education , both in the natural order ( science , history , math ) and in combat order ( training her techniques ) .  Because her mother - Prym - was a councilwoman , Verona was tutored also in politics and in the arts , being privately groomed to usurp control of the clan when she reached an appropriate age ( ~16-18 ).  The training regime - for both aspects of her upbringing - were IMMENSELY STRICT and left little room for the young girl to enjoy being a child or to savor her innocent years.

Because the techniques of the clan progressively increase in power ( but also reasonably destabilize ) with each new generation of daughters , it became quickly apparent that Verona was A PRODIGY amongst her classmates , just as her mother was.

Life ( teen - adulthood ) :

Verona , unlike her peers , made for a very troubling , very hard to control young woman.  With immense potential at her disposal , she was arrogant , devious , and cruel , with little moral bounds to speak of.  There was one training session where she continued to exert an illusion onto another young woman , even when being told to stop , until her peer became a sniveling husk that collapsed onto the ground in a drooling , convulsing heap.  And another time , when she was performing the mastery course for a technique when she extricated the soul of her opponent in front of the entire council ( including her mother and the Matriarch ) and proceeded to devour it and the other’s essence in whole.  Appalled , but not entirely surprised , the Matriarch CONDEMNED Verona and her rapidly growing aptitude , denying her any further education and resources.

Prym , however , was stalwart in the idea that she would push Verona to take over the clan and upraise it to new heights.  Although disgusted with her daughter’s practices and brutality , even despite the clan’s own rites , she went against the Matriarch’s wishes and , in blackmailing a few other councilwomen to participate , continued to train Verona.

Verona’s prowess grew to be no secret , a newfound master of the unified trinity - mind , body , spirit - with techniques to match ( necromancy / necrosis ; illusion ; enchantment / possession ) at just 16.  As with all former masters , and due to the nature of the techniques themselves , Verona sacrificed measures of her own mind , body , and spirit to PERFECT EACH ONE , leaving her arguably less human than most of her counterparts in the clan.

And by the following year , at 17 , she challenged the Matriarch for control of the clan : a battle to the death , wherein the loser would be butchered and symbolically consumed by the clan to “return to her daughters”.  Predictably , Verona won and became the new Matriarch , successfully heralding a bloodier era for the Valhyr clan.

Verona was … AMBITIOUS as a leader ( perhaps overly so ) .  And she had every reason to be , with her strength.  However , when she proposed an all-out insurrection against the rest of the Scandinavian territories , she was met with concern ( the clan is too small to survive a war , they warned her , we have the techniques but we don’t have the manpower ) .  But Verona assured them she had the ability to provide the resources.  Confused and mortified , everyone watched as she invoked an “old friend” : KAËLTYR , effectively supplanting it , beseeching it for a boon of both virtue and power.  When Kaëltyr laughed , “You seek a boon to begin a war ?”  Verona , still knelt at its hooves , replied , “Nay , I seek a boon to WIN A WAR , to usher my clan from the shadows and into the light , to stand hand-in-hand beside the divine , as is our right.”  Amused by the response , Kaëltyr granted the request , offering favor , though cautioned that “All great things do fall , as all great people so do too”.

In the 1910s , the clans had fallen into widespread civil upheaval ; a bloody , brutal feud ensued with Verona at the helm , painstakingly claiming the whole of the Scandinavian territory and removing control from former clans , devouring the men and preserving the women to bolster their numbers ( which were already granted leverage by Kaëltyr’s cursed progeny enlisted to their aid ) .  She became known by the moniker , “THE MATRIARCH” ( an infamous warmonger & fearmonger which assuredly earned a place in history henceforth ) .

With control secured and the clan’s numbers increased , a modicum of peaceability had been bartered.  And Verona set out into economic and political affairs ( obviously with a side-business of slaughter ) , one of which was starting up several businesses ( namely a gin company at the end of the brief prohibition era in this time period ; this , still operated in modern-day ) and beginning to seek the company of European society elites ( many of whom had already heard of her various exploits & frowned upon her appearance in the upper-echelons ) .

It was through these jaunts in high society that Verona met Lenore ( aged ~mid-twenties ) , a simple human woman who did not practice Jujutsu sorcery but enraptured her just the same.  Shortly after meeting her , Verona began to court her ( perhaps a little dubiously ) .  And though both respective families disapproved of the union , they married and settled together ; the era of “THE MATRIARCH” dissolved all because of a single woman.

By 30 , Lenore and Verona were living in domestic bliss while the world continued to turn chaotically around them.  Lenore eventually convinced Verona to have a child ; they have a daughter and name her Ravona.  But 4-5 years later , as Verona is out - as usual - speaking to Jujutsu elites , away on business , a raid is performed on the estate , razing it to the ground and arresting several members , executing Lenore and Ravona for the sins committed by Verona herself.  Always privy to death , Verona senses the conflict , but especially the fall of her family , before she has a chance to act any further , she too is seized and contained.  Unwilling to take any chances with her powers , authorities sew her mouth shut , conceal her face , bind her body and chain her in an underground chamber where , they assumed , she would simply rot to death.

But one does not come under attack underprepared.  And again , even in her weakest , even flayed by her grief and scorn , she manages to conjure enough energy to invoke Kaëltyr.  It is uncertain what transpired within Verona’s body within those days she was chained and isolated , but when she was taken to trial , brought before a judge who would assuredly sentence her execution , Kaëltyr was there , amid the masses , commanding all authority , and stating simply , “I reclaim this woman.”  There was nothing to be done about it.  Thus , rather than kill Verona ( & rather than risk insighting the spirit’s terrible wrath ) , those in authority simply sentenced her to exile ( & thus into the god-curse’s hands ) .

Life-Death ( present-day )

Verona is serving a life-debt to Kaëltyr ; having sought its benevolence many a’time through her existence , she has incurred penance to be repaid in full.  Following the god-curse’s proclamation , Verona was inoculated ( she consumed its flesh , she bonded to its immortality & essence , she sold her soul ) and now lives in constant cycle of sacrifice , a process of dying and undying over and over again to not only repay its favor for her , but also to seek the grace of being permanently absolved of her transgressions ( & inevitably death , released from the cycle ) .

Verona is registered as a SPECIAL GRADE CURSE USER ; but categorically exiled and removed from all Jujutsu society for the rest of time.

After having endured the grief of losing the only two people who matter to her , Kaëltyr offered her PEACE ( read as: it removed Verona’s human heart , her body & spirit now remarkably sustained off of Verona’s necromantic technique & Kaëltyr’s immortal will ) .

Because Kaëltyr ( Kaen ) is in Japan , Verona is there , too.  Where it goes , Verona HAS to follow , per their pact.

Verona’s immense negativity conjured a curse some several years ago ; a massive , chimeric entity that tried to kill her when she was asleep.  Rather than kill each other , Verona “tamed” it and named it - Pandora - and it , he , now lives in her shadow , serving as her companion.  Pandora , ever since , has been feeding upon Verona’s sorrow , rage and innate strength and progressively becoming more powerful himself.  They often fight in tandem to one another , together.

Although Verona appears as a woman in her mid-thirties ( she stopped aging ) , she has this uncanny beauty and ethereal aura that speaks to something NOT QUITE HUMAN at all ; too sharp , too predatory , too dangerous... But remarkably alluring.

Verona presently lives like a rich , influential bachelor ( per Kaëltyr’s own influence ) ; she brazenly flaunts her power , flirts with ( married ) women , and continues to manipulate and murder humans , consuming them for sport and pleasure.

Verona is also the last member of her clan’s bloodline.  However , she claims she cannot carry children and thus , when she is released from the cycle of penance , the Valhyr name and likely the power , too , shall die alongside her.

Although the moniker , “THE MATRIARCH” did not carry into the modern-day , she is sometimes known as “St. Valhyr” ( again , something Kaëltyr propagated ) .  The public is privy to this information and are skeptical of whether or not Verona is a legitimately canonized saint … Though some DO IN FACT refer to her by this title.

[ihatelink]

Trust Fall (Revali X Reader) - Part 1

Word Count: 2,780

Pairing: Revali X Reader (Female)

Fandom/Universe: Legend of Zelda (Breath of The Wild)

Themes/Content: Romance (Slow Burn), Fantasy, Action.

Warnings: None

Synopsis: You visit your friend in Rito Village in order to escape the sense of dread looming over your home of Castle Town as the prophesied doomsday slowly grows closer. It is here on your visit that you meet a Rito warrior who turns your world upside-down.

Authors Note: Finally got round to writing this! Since he's not mentioned in TOTK at all I just had to start a fanfic for him. I miss him so much. I'm uploading this from my laptop so if the formate is weird or there needs to be more paragraphs just let me know! I don't consider myself a pro on Zelda lore so I do apologise for any mistakes. Also, this fan fiction will have two endings! (One canon to BOTW and one canon to Hyrule Warriors) Other than that, I hope you enjoy! - I don't know what to call myself... should I go by my username? What about something stupid like Loafus?... I don't know... I'll work on it 🪶🤎

Rito Village was your second home. You felt so much comfort and associated the place with such a feeling of warmth, it was surprising you hadn't made it your permanent residence. When it came to Rito Village you only had positive memories.

This was mostly due to your best friend, Frita, being a rito. The two of you had met at a very young age and had been best friends ever since, visiting each other every couple of weeks or whenever you had spare time. She would teach you about the ways of the rito and you in turn would teach her about hylians. Frita truly was like a sister to you, and you loved her more than words could say.

"Daydreaming again?", her voice broke you from your thoughts, her bright blue eyes sparkling with joy. You blinked a few times, finally registering her words, and you couldn't help but giggle to yourself. "Yes, I guess I was". "What we're you daydreaming about?", she asked, turning her attention back to the salmon sizzling in the village's communal cooking pot, the aroma swirling through the air, making your mouth water in anticipation. Later in the night was the perfect time for cooking here as most ritos had gone to sleep; Their poor night vision meant that many would retire early in the evening. "Just thinking about flying", you confess sheepishly and Frita rolled her eyes playfully, responding with, "You're always thinking about flying". "I can't help it whenever I'm here. You all look so majestic and free", you gushed. "I would love to be able to experience what it's like to fly for myself instead of having to be on your back". "Perhaps if you pray to Hylia enough she'll allow you to become one of us", she chuckled and you couldn't help but laugh along with her. Frita eventually added the tebantha wheat to the pot and the goat butter as the two of you talked about everything under the stars. "Are you still planning on moving to Hateno Village?", she asked as she began to plate up your dinners. "Yes, unfortunately. It means I'll  be further away from you", you mumbled and Frita's face fell in disappointment. "It's the best option as, if this impending doom really is to show itself one day, the city centre is most likely one of the first places to be attacked. If I could, I'd love to live here with you". "Well, why don't you?". You shook your head. "You know I'd stick out like a sore thumb here. I wouldn't be able to pull my weight or help the village in any way. I'd be more of a burden than anything". "Perhaps not! If I could find a way for you to easily integrate into life here, would you move here?". The more Frita spoke, the more you felt a warmth spread through your entire being. "You'd have me, you'd be well protected- our warriors are exceptional, there's plenty of food and resources in the area… just don't make any final decisions to move just yet. Allow me a chance". You chuckled, taken aback by your friends willingness to help you and keep you by her side. "Okay, I'll give you a chance".

You cut yourself short when you noticed movement out of your peripheral vision. The gentle padding of talloned footsteps grew closer and bright emerald green eyes encased in bright red watched from the darkness. Finally a rito came into view. "Rather late to be cooking, don't you think?". His tone was sharp and precise, you couldn't tell if he was making small talk or if he was irritated with the fact that the two of you were occupying the cook pot. Did he usually use it at this time? "Oh! Revali! Sorry, did you want to use the cooking pot", Frita asked, a light quality to her voice as she politely addressed him, yet an awkward silence seemed to settle over the three of you as his eyes travelled from her to settle on you, staring down his beak right into your very soul. "Who is this hylian?", he asked bluntly. "This is my best friend. She's visiting for a short while", she informed him of your name and that you were from Castle Town. "Would you care to join us?", you then offered, cutting through the awkward pause in conversation. "We have plenty to go around". Frita cut you a glance, surprised by your sudden offer, but did not protest, adding "Yes, do join us! I'm assuming you've just finished practice? You must be famished". Revali opened his beak but quickly shut it, perhaps to reject the offer but thought better of it. He took a moment to smooth out the cream scarf around his neck. "Well, if you insist, I suppose I could join you", he hummed, making his way to sit across from you.

As he took his seat, he placed a beautifully crafted bow to his side, coated in vibrant colours and intricate designs, a scrap of teal fabric tied to one end. He held himself with pride, sitting tall, spine straight, shoulders squared. With the fact that he was taller than you, it was a little intimidating. "Have you visited our village before?", he asked, and it took you a second to realise his question was directed towards you. "Oh yes, plenty of times. I've been visiting since I was a child. That's how I met Frita", you explained, gesturing to your friend as dinner was being dished onto plates chiselled from stone. "Hmm, surely I would have met you by now if that were the case", he muttered as he was handed his food, "it's interesting how our paths have never crossed". You shrugged unsure of what else to say, other than, "Perhaps we weren't meant to meet yet. Us meeting now may be fate?", you laughed lightly, amused by the thought. Revali scoffed in response, "I believe we are in control of our own fate. For example; I didn't become one of the greatest rito warriors through fate and sheer dumb luck alone". "And so modest about it too", you joked which caused Frita to just about choke on her food. She tried to excuse herself as calmly as possible, covering her beak with her wing while still coughing her lungs up. Judging by her reaction, you considered how you may have overstepped a boundary. Not everyone knew when you were joking upon first meeting you. You often sounded more serious than you intended. "I'm only teasing", you clarified, playing with your food on the end of your fork absentmindedly. "I'm sure you're  more than deserving of the title", you tried for your most sincere smile you could conjure, yet Revali didn't seem convince.

Finally, Frita had caught her breath, tears in the corners of her eyes. "No no, Revali really is the greatest of our warriors. Our people gave him that title", she croaked, her throat sounding raw from coughing. "He's the pride of the rito", she insisted, dropping her voice to a more serious tone. Your face contorted in amused disbelief before you began to wrack your brain for any information that would help you deduct the truth. "So he is the rito that's won the annual archery competition for the past five years? He's that same-…", you began to trail off, recalling the conversation you had with your father.

You came from a wealthy family, both your parents working for the King and late Queen of Hyrule . Your mother was the royal gerudo correspondent and your father was the royal rito correspondent- this being the reason you spent so much time in Rito Village growing up, as well as Gerudo Town. You remembered the past few years you couldn't make the annual archery competition held in the village, since you were either accompanying your mother on business trips or doing your own work, but you father had come home stating how the rito 'Revali' had won again. He would then follow up by talking about his superb skills and how his talent for aerial combat were superior in comparison to his peers. Your father claimed that the rito was unmatched and unrivalled, as well as claiming that he may very soon be known as one of- if not the most skilled warrior in all of Hyrule. (Which was very high praise coming from your father, since he was rarely impressed by anyone).

It was like a shock wave was sent through your body. "In the name of Hylia! I didn't realise it was you! I am so sorry! Please forgive my rudeness", you blubbered, putting your half eaten dinner aside, stumbling over your words as you rushed out your apology. "So you have heard of me", he lulled before an amused smirk graced his features. "I suppose I can forgive you since your rudeness was more disbelief than pure ignorance". "Thank you”, you breathed a sigh of relief. “I have heard a lot about your skills and I-… well…", once again you had trailed off. You looked to Frita for reassurance, yet she seemed as nervous as you; her posture was stiff as she sat with a straight spine, her eyes glancing between you and the navy rito. "From what I've heard, you're an incredibly skilled archer", you approached the conversation cautiously, hoping this angle would amend any bitterness you may have caused. Revali looked a you and you felt your breath catch in your throat as you locked eyes before he let out a gruff chuckle. "I suppose you could say that".

You and Frita ate in a comfortable silence while listening to Revali drawl on about the countless competitions he's won along with his many talents regarding aerial combat. Before long, your mind began to wonder.

You couldn't help but think of home. How it was slowly being consumed by a festering anxiety. There was a heavy air across the whole of Castle Town as you all prepared for this prophesied impending doom. The army had began vigorously training since last month. Some of those warriors were your friends- people you had grown up with. It was terrifying to think how some of them you may never see again once the Calamity strikes. Some were beginning to research the ancient technology that had recently been unearthed to see if they could be used to defend Hyrule. These were called guardians, and then there were also the recently uncovered Divine Beasts. At times, it was all a bit much, being at the central hub of Hyrule where there is no escape from the looming sense of dread. Things were moving so quickly and it seemed as though you may never escape the ever present anxiety that hung in the air of Castle Town. But here, in Rito Village, people seemed more relaxed. Many ritos believed that their home would not be effected by the foreseen Calamity. This made the village a nice escape from daily life back home. Here, you weren't reminded of what was to come. You weren't reminded of your duties. You could just breathe easier here in the village nestled into the rocky pillar.

"I do love it here. Rito Village is such a beautiful place. I don't have a single bad memory while being here", you gushed, earning a raised brow from Revali at your comments about his home, his interest now piqued. "Is that so?". Before you could stop her, Frita spewed, "Yes, in fact, she might move here". You shot her a look, a signal to keep that information between the two of you, to which she sheepishly dipped her head in response. You didn't want others knowing of your plans to move just yet, especially since you hadn't even mentioned it to your parents. "A hylian living amongst ritos?", Revali questioned, an amused undertone laced within his words as his luminous eyes narrowed a fraction, as if trying to read your expressions for some sign of the truth. "Hylians aren't equipped for living here. You would struggle". "Yet so many visit and get by just fine", you bit back, sharp tongued yet it was all said with a simple smile across your lips. What he said was true, yet you disliked how he assumed you would struggle when Frita, a fellow rito, believed you could easily adapt to life in the village. "Visiting and residing are very different though", he then shot back, cocking his head to the side as he examined you and your heart began to pound slightly. You felt a pout develop on your features, brows furrowed. He made a point you couldn't argue against. It was the truth. "Well, I'm taking it upon myself to help her integrate into the village before she permanently moves here", Frita chipped in, sensing some tension settling in the air. "If you truly want to move here", Revali began, capturing your attention once more. He wore a smug smirk before he finished, "You'll have to prove yourself".

"Prove myself?", you parroted. "Yes. You'll have to learn our ways and prove to us that you belong here". Revali studied you for a moment, as if he hadn't been doing so all night already. "Firstly, the women of our village are know for being beautiful singers and us men are talented archers. Tell me, can you sing?".

Being from one of the wealthier families of Hyrule Kingdom, you did have the privilege of music lessons from a young age. Your parents wanted the best for you, so consequentially, you had many lessons in a multitude of subjects and areas; Geography, horse riding, music, dance, literature, cooking, etiquette, biology and more.

"I have had many singing lessons", you informed the feathered man matter-of-factly. "It's more a matter of personal taste weather you believe I sound good". "Perhaps you could sing for me tomorrow then. After my training, well meet at the flight range. You can showcase your voice there", he challenged, the smirk across his features growing as he stared down his beak at you. "After all, it would be rather nice to have something to help me relax after such strenuous training", he teased. "And if my voice is to your liking, what do I receive then?". There was a slight pause. "What do you mean?", he tilted his head slightly, perplexed by your response. "Well, if my voice is to your liking then that would mean I have somewhat proven myself worthy of living here amongst your kind", you began, Revali's attention honed in on you, "Which I believe would be worth a reward". "Your reward would be living amongst us", you ignored his comment, pressing on. "That being said, if I prove myself, then I would like to learn archery". "What good would that do you?", he asked. "It's always good for a woman to be able to defend herself, wouldn't you agree?". "But if you were living in Rito Village you wouldn't need to defend yourself", he argued. "I'd have to say it's always good for a woman to know how to use a bow", Frita affirmed your point, edging a little closer to you as she joined the conversation. "Especially a hylian. They are smaller than most races, so it's most likely that any threat they face will be larger than them and could over power them", Frita continued, delving more into her argument. "Exactly, Frita! Meaning wouldn't it be beneficial to have a long range weapon in that instance? Surely, with your knowledge on combat as one of the greatest warriors of our time, you'd agree, Revali". You couldn't help but notice how the feathers around his chest plate plumed in reaction to your words. You'd noticed many ritos would unintentionally do this when feeling prideful, being boastful or being frustrated or angry. Perhaps it was a subconscious way of asserting dominance? Like how a Hylian may square their shoulders to appear larger and more confident in front of others. "It would be an honour to have you teach me".

There was a pause.

"I suppose it would be beneficial for you to have the most skilled archer teach you…", he mused looking off into the night, as if he barely acknowledged your being , like you were nothing more than a speck on his radar.  A nuisance. "Alright, you have yourself a deal; continuously show your willingness and progression to integrate into our society, and in turn I will teach you how to use a bow". "And you swear not to go back on your word?", you quirked a brow in Revali's direction. "I swear".

[immediatebreakfast]

The daily format really of today really gave me a good reminder of how dangerous is the Count, and how Lucy (and everyone around her) is still blind to this threat while coming with no explanations.

Even if the trumpets of salvation started playing when Van Helsing arrived, I forgot how so far he only has theories, a certain feeling. Van Helsing needs to rule out any illness, sickness, and disease that he knows either in depth or in surface before even touching a possible supernatural explanation for Lucy.

While Lucy still loses blood.

The writing played perfectly all of the emotions that Jack felt with both the telegram, and the letter. Once again Seward's writing style is the perfect choice to give the reader that anxious feeling of what happened after you read his words. The entry starts with this:

"Terrible change for the worse. Come at once; do not lose an hour. I hold over telegram to Holmwood till have seen you."

No greetings, no indications, no explanations, nor theories. Just a tiny paragraph that says that Lucy is in danger. A change so bad that Jack has to wait for Van Helsing to treat her before he sends any information to Arthur. A few words that only tells us the grim possibility of Jack finding Lucy almost dead in her bed.

Also, despite we the readers knowing that Dracula is the one who is responsible for Lucy's suffering the horror doesn't leave just because we have it. How many days Lucy has left? How her getting better then worse is affecting her organs? What if Dracula doesn't directly kill her, and instead she gets sick and her body can't handle it?

Then, Jack has to write to Arthur. We may breath a sign of relief that Lucy is now a little bit better, but there is something... off about this letter.

"My news to-day is not so good. Lucy this morning had gone back a bit."

These words lack the urgency of the telegram to Van Helsing. It's still not good because Arthur knows that Lucy got worse, but it certainly doesn't translate the same feeling, the possibility of the worst. There is no "Van Helsing had to come quickly."

Instead the focus of the letter is finally having the perfect solution of the societal limbo trapped in the Westenra household. At the hands of Mrs. Westenra no less, who finally decides to get help for her daughter, and now both Jack and Van Helsing can actually play the role of doctors without social restrictions.

Yet that doesn't take away the anxiety of the underlying question of Lucy's state.

"If any need I shall write, so that, if you do not hear from me, take it for granted that I am simply waiting for news. In haste."

At the end Jack, just like the readers, only has one option despite all of the dread that he is feeling... he only can wait.

[bonesandthebees]

Hi Bee!

I really admire your work and I'm currently attempting to write my own fic, and I'd love to have some advice on writing stuff.

1) Do you have any tips for writing the beginning of a fic? I cannot figure out how to start writing with a decent sentence. It all falls apart when my fingers go on the keyboard.

2) Do you have any tips for pacing/plot/outlining? I still have barely figured out what pacing is, because I cannot tell when authors are like "oh I don't like this because I rushed the pacing". I literally can't tell most of the time, unless there is not any space to breathe between things that happen.

3) Do you have tips for writing surroundings and the parts of the paragraph that aren't dialogue? Like. How do I naturally fit the description of the area into the fic? And how do I naturally fit extra commentary into a paragraph that has dialogue in it, especially when it isn't the pov character's dialogue?

Again, adore your writing. I feel kind of awkward since I've never done an ask before; idk if there's some kind of etiquette.

Hope you're doing well!

-Royal :)

hi sorry it's taken me a bit to answer this one! I'm more than happy to give some advice!

okay so first off, writing the first line of a fic is borderline torture sometimes. it's so fucking hard. to me though it's kind of like jumping into a cold pool. you can stare at the water thinking about how cold it's going to be and how unsure you are, but then at some point you have to bend your legs and jump before you can overthink it or else you'll never do it. you have to just put something down for the first line.

one method I like employing when I'm really struggling is starting with a line of dialogue. it instantly throws the reader into the scene as they have to try and find out who is talking, what they are talking about, and where everyone is. an example where I used this is in the stars and their children, which opens with a line from tommy "Hey Wil, can you hand me the epli?" this tells us multiple things right off the bat. it establishes a character present in the scene (Wil) and that there's something different about this world from ours (epli—it makes the reader want to know what it is and why it's being handed to the character speaking)

other times I try to either start with a line that describes the setting ("The streets were crowded at this time of day." - everything else has gone wrong), or start with a line that describes the emotions of the pov character ("Lessons were the most unbearable in the afternoon." - under the hanging rose). basically, you're trying to find a way to throw the reader into the scene in one line. it's difficult, but try any of those angles and hopefully you'll think of something that fits. but again, it's jumping into a cold pool. you just have to put something down so you can start. you can always go back and change it later

okay putting the other two under a read more bc it got long

2. okay now pacing. that's a bit more difficult to help with because a lot of pacing is just getting a feel for it. one way is to just think about it logically. say you have two characters that start as strangers and you want to get them to be best friends. you can show them meeting for the first time, but then you often have to show them bonding before they can reach best friend status. there's pacing here both in the literal world of the story, but also in the text itself. you don't want to write them hanging out for a few hours and suddenly decide they're best friends (although ofc there are exceptions to this like if they're little kids bc, well, that is a thing little kids do where they'll declare a kid they just met their best friend), nor do you want to write them meeting for the first time, write a line saying "they hung out every day for the next three weeks until they were best friends" and then just act as though they're besties (again, there are exceptions to this in specific cases). it just feels weird yknow? It doesn't get the reader invested in this relationship because it doesn't feel like it's been earned. it's a similar thing with plot beats. you have to make it feel natural both in the world of the story itself, but also the timing with which you tell the story. like I said though, pacing is really something you just get the hang of naturally with practice. reading published novels will help as well because it'll help you get a sense of what good pacing feels like.

3. ohhhh you've hit a specific issue I had a lot when I was younger. when you have a dialogue scene going on there's a lot of ways you can balance the text outside the dialogue. ofc if the dialogue is going by at rapid speed, you can straight up just do the dialogue lines and you don't even have to specify who's talking if it's clear within the text

Ex:

"You can't come to my nuclear reactor, Tommy," Tubbo sighed.

Tommy scowled. "What the fuck? Why not?"

"Knowing you you'd find a way to cause a nuclear meltdown."

"Would not."

"Would to."

"Would not."

"Would to!"

"So what, you're a bitch who can't handle a little radiation?"

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

see how after the first two lines of dialogue where I established who is talking in which order, I stop using the tags all together? it's still clear who is talking because the dialogue is ping ponging back and forth. it's a fast-paced conversation, so cutting out the tags helps that effect.

but of course this is only the case in a few instances. most of the time, you do need lines outside dialogue not only to establish who is talking, but also to keep the characters present in the scene itself.

you have several options for what to include outside your dialogue. one of my go to's is always character actions.

"Don't you have one of those swimming pools you keep the nuclear shit in?" Tommy asked, leaning against the wall.

Tubbo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes but before you ask, no, you can't go swimming in it."

there we include the action of tommy leaning against a wall after he asks the question, which is followed by tubbo pinching the bridge of his nose. this lets the reader see exactly what each character is doing, which can also establish the emotions each character is feeling without saying them outright. tommy is comfortable enough with tubbo to annoy him with his questions, which we see by him casually leaning against the wall. tubbo, meanwhile, is annoyed just like tommy wants, which we see by him pinching the bridge of his nose.

characters sitting down, standing up, wringing their hands in front of them, folding their arms over their chest, shrugging, curling their hands into fists, etc. are all examples of character actions you can include to give the reader the ability to picture the scene more accurately

then of course you have thought process and scenery description you can include as well. thought process is just including what your pov character is thinking as the conversation progresses.

"Yes but before you ask, no, you can't go swimming in it."

Tommy huffed and folded his arms over his chest. Tubbo was so fucking boring these days with his 'safety rules'. He'd nearly been nuked before and was fine! A little radiation wasn't going to hurt him.

that right there is a glimpse into what's going on in tommy's head at that moment. he's frustrated with his friend because he thinks he'd be fine swimming in the nuclear pool. it gives us more insight into the pov character and how they're reacting to the conversation at hand.

then for scenery description:

Silence fell over them as Tommy glared at Tubbo. Tubbo glared back, refusing to budge. Around them, the snow coating the ground glittered in the afternoon sunlight. Clouds of breath puffed in front of Tommy's face. An icy breeze wound between the buildings, making goosebumps rise along his arms. He tugged his sleeves down, still not breaking eye contact with his friend.

the conversation falls silent for a moment, so we take a moment to step back from the two characters. we look at the setting around us, which emphasizes the pause in dialogue and makes it feel quiet even to us as the readers. you don't have to restrict your scenery description to moments where a conversation takes a pause, but taking a step back gives a sense of a 'silence' to the reader even if it's brief. another example of this could be,

"Don't bullshit me, Tubbo. Why won't you let me see it?" Tommy asked after several long beats.

Clenching his jaw, Tubbo's eyes flickered to the ground. The snow beneath their boots was muddied. Tommy spotted a dead worm frozen against the hard earth.

Then, Tommy understood.

"You don't trust me anymore."

now let's see this a different way

"Don't bullshit me, Tubbo. Why won't you let me see it?" Tommy asked after several long beats. "You don't trust me anymore."

see how without all that extra description the pause feels much shorter? and with that shorter pause the weight of Tommy's next sentence loses it's emotional impact?

if you want to add scenery description to a dialogue exchange, imagine it like it's a movie. you have two characters that are talking, and suddenly the camera pans away from them to look at the setting around them. why does it do that? what effect does it have on the scene playing out? your words are the camera zooming in and out on the characters. there are a lot of ways you can use this 'camera' to change the rhythm/flow of a scene. you just have to play around with it to figure out how to use it

I hope that's helpful!

[cordeliawhohung]

Soft Spot Dissection (Blood Soaked Cotton)

soft spot master list | links to answered asks | major spoilers for the series if you haven't read it, this is me picking apart my writing as a personal project <3

Welcome! First, I’d like to mention that I have no idea what I’m doing with this dissection. I’m attempting to put it in an essay-like format for ease of reading, but trying not to make it too essay-like so that it’s boring, ya know? A lot of this is going to be me just… copying and pasting paragraphs and then talking about it. So, just pretend that this is some really thought out opening paragraph and that I’ve got a killer thesis sentence and that this isn’t just some half-cracked author venting about her work. Capiche? Thanks. 

Anyway, we come to the first installment of Soft Spot: Blood Soaked Cotton. I’ve mentioned this a few times before, but this whole series actually started out as a one shot. Hence the rather… odd name. Believe it or not, but I actually really dislike the title Soft Spot. It’s just… not me. Not how I like naming things. It was a title I panic chose when I realized I wanted to write more. If I had the opportunity to change it, I’d honestly go with Everything You Touch. Fits the vibe more, in my opinion. But that’s beside the point. 

Anyway, it’s so jarring to read this story. I haven’t really actually sat down and read any of the parts after I posted them, and it’s crazy to start out with Simon and Spook not knowing one another. Just… strangers. Had I known this was going to be a longer series, I wouldn’t have started it out the way I did. With the little internal monologue with Simon. It works, in a way, and I don’t know what I would’ve changed it to, but it wouldn’t have been this. 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Really, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. But things never exactly work out how we think they will, and Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises.”

Just sounds… so flat, compared to how I started every other part lmao. 

Have a good one. It was always the same farewell you gave him. Of course the factitious answer that came to mind was ‘have a good one what?’ but he knew better than to be a smart ass. But really, the question truly was a valid one in his mind. Have a good what? Day? Afternoon? Life? He was too far gone for that. 

I based Simon’s facetious answer off of something my old co-worker’s husband used to say. I hated him. He was a prick. But it’s the type of bluntness I thought Simon would hold lmao. But then Simon’s thought, of him being too far gone for a good life, was sorta done intentionally when I wrote it. Because he’s supposed to see that he can have a good life when he meets Spook (: 

It tore the delicate skin of your bottom lip vertically, nearing the corner of your mouth. Dark, crunchy scabs clogged the wound up, and he could tell by the way your tongue kept prodding at it that it smarted something fierce. But it didn’t stop there. A slight bruise on the back part of your cheekbone, an even deeper bruise peeking out from underneath your blouse on your collarbone, a broken nail that chipped off uncomfortably close to your nail bed. 

Re: Referencing Spook’s injuries. I wish I had referred back to this, her wounds, in Everything You Touch. I think the parallels would’ve been heartbreaking. Hindsight is 20/20 or whatever. Especially because in this first installment, Simon is haunted by Spook. Constantly sees her injuries, and it chases after him worse than anything he’s seen in the field sorta thing. Oh well. 

It used to be white, but had been stained by various things over the years he had it, and it even sported some fraying on the edges. It was clean, at least. Because of this, he was extremely surprised to hear your response to him.  “I’ll ruin it.” 

Re: Simon giving Spook his handkerchief when her lip started to bleed. Her comment here, I’ll ruin it. Although unintentional, it gives the impression that she’s always, in some sort of way, been afraid of filth. She’s always feared the rot inside of her and of transferring it to someone else, like she’s sick with some disease. Sort of makes her obsession with being clean later in the series a bit more understandable. These were just the very first few hints of it. 

“Figured you’d need another one after I ruined the one you gave me,” you said, wiggling it in your hands for him to take. “You also strike me as a dog person, so this seemed fitting.”

Re: Spook giving Simon a new handkerchief a few weeks/days/whatever later. This is so funny to me. You also strike me as a dog person. Be so for real right now. As if you didn’t bring home a gooey pile of cat a few years later. As if that weird freak doesn’t grow into being Simon’s best bud. I love them. 

October brought in a sharp chill to the air that had you wearing a nice knitted sweater to help stave off the draft in the building. Its dark background with popping jack-o-lantern theme matched perfectly with your area of the bank. Despite it only being halfway through the month you had already prepared for Halloween with a bowl of candy sitting on the counter and themed jelly stickers on the window behind you. 

Though it was never explicitly said, Halloween is Spook’s favorite holiday (: Which is unfortunate. Keep this in mind.

“Must be neat,” you said in awe. “Despite all the military stuff, anyway. I bet you get to travel the world and see so many neat things. I’d kill for an opportunity like that… no pun intended.” 

I wrote this pun on accident and then reread the sentence and was like wow. A bit on the nose but I’m keeping this. 

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you said softly, head returning to lean against your hand as you looked up at him. Even sitting next to him he was still so much bigger than you. “Honestly, I thought you were going to say no. Doesn’t really seem like your type of place so… just know I appreciate it.”  What gave that impression? His tense shoulders? Or his eyes flickering around the room at least twenty times every minute like he was constantly on edge?  “Don’t mention it,” he said, his voice low and rumbly.  You smiled something soft, something fleeting as your eyes dropped down to look at his hands clasped around the cup of water. He hadn’t taken a single sip of it the entire time the two of you sat there. Not that you had expected him to, anyway. Certainly not with that mask of his. Maybe some time in the future you’d ask him about it, but that moment wasn’t the right time. 

Rereading this, I think Spook has a love for broken things just as much as Simon does. Which is why she’s so drawn to him, despite his appearances. Which is why he lets her get close even though he knows it’s not a good idea. They’re both sad, broken people. And in a way, they’ve been sort of disconnected from “normal” people. It’s hard for Spook to find a partner who understands her situation. It’s hard for Simon to find a partner who can handle his aloofness. So when they find each other? It’s only natural that they’re so impossibly drawn to one another. 

You slipped away before he could protest that idea, and he grumbled as he pushed his cup of water towards the end of the bar. Shitty music filled his ears as he sat there waiting for you, and without your voice to drown out the commotion around him, it consumed him. Sharp crack of the billiard balls crashing together, the scent of greasy pub pizza, the ringing of a bell as the door opened, the chilling October breeze bleeding into the building, the stale scent of cigarettes. 

Though it’s only hinted at minorly, Eric, Spook’s ex, was a smoker. Hence the smell of cigarettes that’s mentioned here as the door opens. This is where Eric enters and starts to make a fuss. Etc etc etc. 

Then came the sound of flesh crashing against flesh as the palm of your hand slapped the man across the face. It was enough to grab the attention of everyone in the surrounding area, including the bartender who looked like he was one bad comment away from dialing 999.  “Get your fucking hands off of me,” you seethed. Unfortunately for you, the slap hardly seemed to phase him, and his grip only tightened. The man’s jaw set taut as his other hand came up and grabbed your waist with bruising force, drawing you closer to him as he bared his teeth in a snarling grin. 

Okay. OKAY. Everyone listen up!!! The entire story? Yeah? And Spook’s trauma? There’s this whole motif that I — quite frankly — abused the fuck out of. It’s violence. This whole, trying to break the cycle, of knowing violence, of experiencing violence, things of that sort. And then what do we get? Spook being violent. Spook is the first character throughout the entire series to ever show violence. To hit someone. To demand something of them. Sure, Eric fucking deserves it, and she was obviously beaten before, but that doesn’t change the fact she is the first character to be explicitly violent. (:

This was done by accident. Something that I came across while re-reading and it just hits so hard. Almost like it’s hinting at something terrible. That no matter how hard she tries to distance herself from her abusive past, it’s too ingrained in her DNA for her to escape it. 

It was disgusting. The very sight of that man with his hands on you like he had won a prize. Greedy fingers digging into your flesh like he planned to take, and take, and take. Simon had seen it all before. Seen it in his own flesh as unwanted hands clawed at him. Felt it on his face in the form of a vile, wet tongue swiping around his mouth. It was in the screams he couldn’t hold back as the hook tore through his flesh. It was in the blood that spilled down his body as he hung there while they laughed. It was in the maggots that he sat in as he was buried alive. It was- It was the pain he felt in his hand as his knuckles collided with the man’s jaw, snapping his head to an uncomfortable angle. In an instant his body went rigid and then limp. Those revolting hands fell away from you as his body collided with the floor beneath him, and the only sound he was able to make was a fit of air leaving his lungs upon impact. 

Here we have Simon essentially blacking out. Of seeing Spook’s trauma and realizing that they aren’t so different. I think that’s what ultimately attracted him to her in the first place. The fact that she wasn’t just broken, but she was like him. Even if he didn’t fully know it yet. Their pasts had been intertwined in some disgusting, twisted way this entire time, and I think this is the moment he starts to realize it. 

Never before had he been so glad to harm someone. Any other time it was a necessity. Saving himself. Saving a comrade. Nothing that he ever took pleasure or joy in. It was just work. But that? Hurting that man the way he did? He took joy in that.

Another accidental thing I did here, but I totally forgot about this paragraph. Of Simon enjoying what he did to Eric (kicking his ass). Makes the conversation Spook and Bukin have later in the series all the more terrifying. Specifically: 

“I think he likes the blood and the gore of violence. There is something comforting about spilling blood knowing that it lessens the chance of your own being poured. He finds safety in death. And while I can appreciate the sentiment, I never really had the stomach for blood. No, I prefer to watch things squirm.” 

Once again, this started off as a one shot, and I never reread this fucking part while writing so this is all by accident but it makes my stomach churn in a way I can’t describe lmao. 

“See you next week, Simon.”  That was the moment that he decided he liked the way his name sounded when you said it. You never barked it like an order, or screamed it in anger. He had hated his name for a long while, hated being called anything other than his callsign for work. But when it came from your lips, well, maybe it wasn’t all that terrible.  “Yeah,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. The band-aids pulled awkwardly at his skin as he paused on the porch of your apartment. “See you next week.” 

There’s something to be said about this farewell. It’s why I referenced it again in the epilogue in the synopsis. I think it’s the first goodbye that they say to one another that they don’t really want to say. Because they — whether they realize it or not — are already so terribly attached to one another. And honestly, I wish I had ended the part here rather than going further into detail. I felt like I was over explaining it. Everything is already right here. 

Anyway; that’s about everything I have for this part. I know it’s not a whole lot, but like I mentioned before, this was supposed to be a one shot, so this part doesn’t have a whole lot of… meaning behind it. Besides the few accidents that I found, anyway lmao. As always, feel free to send any questions about the work my way! Things I didn’t cover in this part that you’re still curious about, things of that sort!

[leonhardt-simp]

Sleeping In

[canonverse] | fanfic | fluff

Kiriko x F! Reader

Summary: Some cute moments with your girlfriend.

Author’s Note: A fic for you, I haven’t been very active when it comes to writing. I apologize for that 😭 I also wanna apologize for the long post, my read more insert ends up deleting some paragraphs. We making due.

“You know my mother taught me patience, Y/N…” Kiriko sleepily spoke behind you, her breath slightly tickling your ear as you felt her nuzzle further into your nape. You felt her arms hug you closer, legs slightly pressing into yours as the Kitsune slowly fell back into her slumber.

You pulled up the sheets to keep the warm of the both of you, slipping a hand down to interlocks fingers with your girlfriend’s. “But it’s 1:30 , Kiri..” You softly whisper, a tug pulling you closer to the sleepy girl.

“15 more minutes…” She wasn’t going to let you go, she made that clear.

“We need to get up now, I’m not gonna beg you.” You started to get up, Kiriko sighing as you slipped from her arms and out of the bed, leaving the sleepy fox.

With a sly chuckle, Kiriko sat up in bed and stretched her arms. “I always like a little begging though…” She yawned, covering her mouth with a hand.

You basked in her look, she was disheveled and her bed head made her hair poke out in every direction. You wouldn’t let a comment like that slide though, sleepy or not.

You playfully rolled your eyes, reaching for a pillow to hit her but just before it went in contact with her, she was gone. Distracted, you watched the small blue particles slowly fade before hearing the bathroom door close behind you.

You jumped and turned to the door, “I- What? No fair!” You dropped the pillow onto the bed and walked to the closed door, grabbing the doorknob only to find she locked it when you tried to open it.

“You snooze you lose, sweetheart.” Kiriko taunted with a sleepy rasp, stretching in the bathroom before getting ready to do her morning routine.

You scoffed at her remark.

‘Ironic,’ you thought with a cross of your arms. You couldn’t believe she used her powers to beat you to the bathroom. You should’ve just left her in bed.

Now, you just had to wait your turn.

While you waited though, you had the brilliant idea to slip away to her closet to find something to wear.

She had lots of jackets, hoodies and T-shirts along with her shrine clothes. That special garment was important so you wouldn’t touch that. Everything else though was free for the taking.

Something in her closet did caught your eye, a blue and white jacket you’ve seen her wear before. That was definitely something you wanted to try on while you waited.

After 5ish minutes, Kiriko came out refreshed and ready to take on the day.

Kiriko motioned to the bathroom, “The bathroom is yo-… oh?” Her words died down as she saw you, her eyebrows raising in curiosity when she noticed it was her jacket you had on.

Even with her words and presence, it wasn’t enough for you to notice.

There you stood in her full length mirror looking at yourself model in her blue and white jacket, your eyes more occupied with how you could potentially style the jacket with some kind of [pants/skirt/shorts].

Kiriko didn’t bother to say much more than that as she pleasantly watched, leaning against the doorframe of her bathroom. She would rather watch you wear her clothes, didn’t help the view was one she adored.

You always looked radiant though, her heart would race whenever you both held eye contact. Where you didn’t find beauty or elegance, she found it in you and where she didn’t find responsibility and strength, you found it in her.

Even when you were blissfully unaware, she always did like to watch you. Maybe it’s just the fox in her enjoying to watch things they found interesting.

It didn’t take longer than a few minutes for you to notice Kiriko watching you through the reflection, it made you jump slightly and turn your head to look over at her.

Kiriko couldn’t help but giggle at the reaction, straightening up to walk over to stand behind you. Her hand reached around to turn your head to look at yourself into the mirror, her hands then slipping down to rest on your forearms.

“You look good, maybe you should wear my clothes more often.” She spoke, looking at you rather than the mirror. You could see her cheeky smile in the reflection.

“Are you just saying that?” You asked, about to slip the jacket off, a tug up stopping you from doing so. “I wouldn’t say anything I wouldn’t mean.” You turned your head to her to meet her gaze, her eyes proud and loving.

Her words were enough to warm you even without the help of the sweater, she always did have a charming way with words.

Kiriko then backed up, “The bathroom is ready for you, got you a spare toothbrush for when you stay here too.” She happily announces as she went to check her phone that was charging on the bedside table.

You quietly watched her, a soft smile never leaving your lips as you finally took your turn in the bathroom to get your routine done.

It didn’t take you that long to get everything done from washing your face to brushing your teeth. Coming out, you noticed Kiriko wasn’t in the room.

“Kiri?” You called out, walking out to see her leaning back against her island counter staring down at her phone.

You noted she finally had gotten dressed, wearing something more athleisure looking. You both matched.

The cutest part was the fox headband she wore, a gift she had received from a friend.

“Hm?” She answered, looking up to the sound of your voice.

You dramatically walked over, her curious eyes watching you make your way to her.

“You left meeee…” You spoke in a falling to lean against her, her hands instinctively grabbing ahold of your waist.

She gave an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, I was looking through my phone and wandered.” Kiriko pressed a kiss to your cheek, hugging you closer to her, tucking her phone in her pocket.

You stayed still letting her press kisses against your face before she reached for your chin, lifting it to press some smothering kisses against your lips. You couldn’t help but giggle, her laugh accompanying yours.

When you thought it was enough, you pushed her back by her shoulder, her smile bright and her bangs slightly a mess. her headband tilted from the little session.

“We need eat breakfast,” You reached up to fix her hair and tilt the headband back to its natural position, Kiriko’s eyes staring down into yours.

She had an idea, “I know a great donut place-”

“No donuts.” You objected, slipping away from her and walking to the door, getting ready to slip on your shoes.

“Last time we ate donuts for breakfast, your mom wouldn’t stop talking about eating a proper meal.” You sighed at the memory. You remember how awkward it was to hear Kiriko get lectured.

Only upside was seeing Kiriko lower her head whenever her mother spoke, “Would it kill you to eat a vegetable?” You mimicked her mother’s words, her expression turning into one of slight embarrassment.

“I remember that, she was more concerned on that then me introducing you as my girlfriend.” She gave a little awkward giggle at the end, her hands reaching to the side to pick up her keys she usually places on the shelf by the door.

“Mmhm, I even mentally prepared myself. I had the scenario all ready in my head and potentially arguments ready.” Your response made her laugh, her hand falling over her mouth as she muffled her laughter.

Kiriko wiped the tear from her eyes, you were so cute.

“So where to then?” She asked, her hands moving to rest in her pockets.

You stood up and looked up at her, “There is that fun little cafe down the street.” You offered.

Her eyes looked up at the consideration before deciding with a nod. “Cookies and coffee. Even more sweet.” That earned her a slight smack to her stomach, one that didn’t even phase her much.

Kiriko laughed following you out the door, closing it behind her.

[maddogqs21]

Hey Everyone,

I am wanting to start writing fanfiction, and I have two that I am working on for the smiling critters fandom. I was just curious as to if anyone would be interested in it. I have one that is a one-shot collection, but the other, which I am calling “New Beginnings” (for now), would be a multi chapter fic. Pretty much it would be how the kids that later became the critters met, and then a few more arcs.

I would like to note this about the tags, there will be a romantic relationship tag, but that would only apply to the prologue and mentions to it throughout that only would apply to the older version. Anyways, the teaser is under the cut. I am working on character info so I have a few paragraphs here and there about the characters before the first chapter, so I may post them later

Skittering was all he could hear from his cell. It had been a long time since he had seen the sun, even longer if you don’t count the playcare sky as having a sun. He missed the light, how it used to invigorate him, now it is a stark reminder of how fake everything was. He hung his head, shaking it. How could it have all gone wrong? He should hate his best friend, he really should, but all he felt in his heart was a deep pain. As he looked up, he remembered the conversations they would have. They had all been stung up like he was currently, but one by one, they were dragged off, never to be seen again.

Kickin had been to his right, and was the first one to disappear. He remembered their conversations, always a mix of pessimistic and optimistic, to at times, extremely ridiculous. He could almost hear Kickin’s chuckles at his own bemusings. In the early days, they would just add on to the other’s words.

“Hear me out, I know that this is a really dumb idea, but, stay with me here…” Kickin snickered at himself, unable to finish his sentence.

”Let me guess,” Bubba groaned, “this is another one of your ‘I have been thinking about this for a long time, and I think I should tell you, but if I would have said it earlier, I would have been beat one way or the other’, and based off our previous conversation about the fake sky, you are gonna say something about us being abducted by aliens? Or is this the one where you think we are on our way to Mars as we speak to take care of a space station before they decide to send kids up.”

Kickin only burst out into laughter, as Hoppy shouted, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME? HE GUESSED IT AGAIN?” DogDay heard scraping and heard Crafy’s “At this point, we should just let Bubba translate Kickin’s musings before he even says it. This is the 486th time,” and Picky’s “Honestly, when are they going to admit that they have been dating for years! He knows Kickin like the back of his hand, and I swear Kickin has figured out all the ways to get him to-“, “KICKIN, WHY IN THE HELL WOULD SOMEONE WANT TO-“, “SCIENCE, BUBBA, SCIENCE!”, “WHAT ARE YOU EVEN ON RIGHT NOW?” Bubba’s voice cracked, everyone just bursting out into laughter.

“These are the times that I wish they would just-“, but before Bobby could finish her teasing remark, all of the girls burst out laughing. Little did they know, that this was their last time laughing for years to come.

He shakes his head of the memories, sighing sadly at the trail of Kickin’s blood that went right in front of his cell. He had dislocated both of his shoulders, and with Bubba’s instruction, learned to put them back into place. But as he stepped out of the cell block, everyone froze, his blood curtailing screams echoing for what felt like hours. The next thing he knew, the mini critters started tearing into the chicken. He could have sworn he heard Bubba choke out a sob as Kickin reached for the elephant before the others head hit the ground with an echoing thud.

”Dammit,” he swore, as he felt the mini’s eating away at him. Must be time for them to eat. He closed his eyes as each bite started to fade away in his mind. How he wished he was young again, free from the knowledge, experiences and pain.

His mind takes him to his happy places. The little houses that the playcare had made for them based off of the cartoon, to the last time they all ate together before going to the playcare, but his most favorite place was the playground where he met the ones he cared about most, back when he was only 7.

[twolitwicksinatrenchcoat]

wowza this was supposed to be like a paragraph long yikes anyways A lil story using @justmwahstruly zombie WH au, because our ocs kiss kiss fell in love/j. This is better read with some context so check out Mwah's post, here! Also I don't write at all so don't mind all the mistakes -🕯 tw:: small description of violence

Molly had a tough day at work, an annoying group of teenage customers, near the end of her shift, who didn't seem to understand the difference between sentient zombies, and feral zombies ready to bite and attack. They weren't even quiet about their opinion, loudly talking and side eyeing the diner staff, only shutting up when the staff came near, despite the fact that the staff could clearly hear them from behind the counter. Molly was irked that she even had to serve these people, but she had a job to do and she did it well. Despite this the group sneered at the food saying it was disgusting. That was a total lie, Julie/Howdy was a great cook, for both the living and the undead. 

It's fine though. Because this was the last few minutes of her shift and she was off after this, she could cool down and take a break. Yet despite this, she clocked out finding herself unable to stop thinking about the insensitive group,  who seemed to belittle the people who lost so much against their will due to the outbreak. Perhaps it was just muscle memory that led her to Flint's apartment, too zoned out to even register Flint letting her in, nor the fact that he was leading her into his home, his hand in hers. Flint saw quite easily that she was upset. 

And what followed next was an accident, a mistake, whatever you'd like to call it. Molly hadn't been able to stop thinking about the stupid act of discrimination and her emotions got the best of her. It was just for a few minutes, just a few simple minutes that Molly had gone feral. She didn't register Flint as a person she was close to, instead he was just a target at that point I suppose. Her nails dig into Flint's pale flesh, dragging down and leaving deep scratches. Maybe he should have left Molly alone, he has seen she was some sort of upset, maybe wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately Flint was not that kind of person. When Molly "came back to" she had enthusiastically greeted Flint, not even questioning how she made it to his apartment.  And he hadn't meant to do it, yet he really couldn't help it. When Molly reached out to him he flinched back, panicked eyes flickering over Molly's figure.

It took Molly a few seconds to realize what had happened. Even longer for Flint to calm down and realize Molly was no longer feral. Yet the fear still lingered, something Flint despised.  Both felt horrible, and both had left things unsettled that day as Molly had excused herself, saying she had something to deal with. The strange awkwardness went on for the rest of the week, Flint's appearance at the diner started to slow,  and Molly had not stepped a foot into Flint's housing department again since that day. 

Flint missed Molly, wanted to tell her it was okay. Things happen, he worked with kids, had his unfortunate fair share of sentients going feral. He understood it just couldn't be stopped sometimes, and he could never hold it against Molly. When he had tried to grab Molly's hand she snatched it back, eyes glancing at the nearly healed scratch marks on Flint's face. Was she scared of hurting him again? With a sharp inhale Flint grabbed Molly's hands with his own shaky hands. His grip careful as he led Molly's hands to his cheeks, even like this he leaned into her touch. He still trusted her, this time there was no slight tremble in his face, instead it was replaced by a steady stare and he fumbled over his words, trying to assure Molly that it was okay, that he's safe and he never blamed her, and his fear had just got the best of him at the moment.

[the-kr8tor]

Hi Katy 🩷 how are you? The brain isn’t braining. I tried writing but I only got about two paragraphs done. I’m feeling the imposter syndrome. Did I ever mention how cutie patotiee I find glasses? So the fact that you wear them gives me joy. I admit to trying to sabotage my vision just to wear glasses.

I did write an ask a few days ago but my phone decided to retire early. All of the content was erased but at least I could refine my idea. Replacement should hopefully come soon.

Anyway! Idea is as follows, I love historical fiction and combining my love for spider punk and spider noir’s friendship in the fanon I’ve created 1940s American pilot spider-woman and here’s why… Noir and p trade war stories while Hobie and p bond over their trauma, yippee! (I never said this would be fluffy) The spider band is lowkey concerned with how casually they do this but to each their own? They’re all very close obviously.

Hobie one day tries to contact p. Doesn’t think much of it considering how many missions they go on along with working for the society. Until someone else brings up, days later, they can’t get in contact either. Noir’s demeanor instantly changes and before anyone can blink he’s gone with Hobie trailing right behind him. Now, they both understand why their spider sense went off suddenly and quite randomly. Feeling sick to their stomachs. Noir more so because he and p are fighting the same war. He knows the stakes.

Once they reach p’s dimension they see confetti and hear cheering. The axis has surrendered and the war is finally over but…where is p? Someone, I’ll let you decide, picks up a discarded newspaper. After flipping through the pages they come across a section titled ‘missing pilot’ written by Mary Jane Watson. Even with their watches they can’t find her location and it slowly tears them apart. Deep down they already know, she’s gone.

Her body is found weeks later. Pictures of the spiders tucked into the breast pocket of her uniform along with her family’s. Bullet holes littered in the plane they used to sit around in under the stars.

A funeral is held. Only family and friends but what’s the difference in a war, right? Her family is awarded her medals along with a flag. The gang watches from the sidelines. Noir and Hobie are the last to leave.

“I know this is coming at a bad time,” Lyla whispers, “but I think you want to hear this.”

P left a recording. Her voice is shaky as explosions and gun fire are heard in the background. She tells them she loves them. All of them. What they mean to her. Hobie chokes back a sob as he hears a loud bang and the engine going out and Noir shakes as her voice cracks. She says goodbye and wishes them well and then, the audio cuts off.

It’s just another canon event.

Hello, my love! I'm good, how are you? 2 paragraphs is better than none! You're doing well trust me. Awwee thank you! I'm blind as a bat without them lol pls don't sabotage your eyes!! Glasses are so expensive and you can't wear sunglasses bc of them :(

Ooohhh how interesting---! OMFG 😭😭😭😭😭😭 THEY'RE BESTIES AND NOW THEY HAVE A MISSING PIECE 😭😭😭😭 I hope this doesn't make Hobie and Noir's relationship fall apart 😟

The recording they left for Hobie and Noir 😭😭 that scene reminds me when steve Rodger's plane was about to go down and he talks with peggy one last time 😔

[watercolor-hearts]

😍 published lines or a section of a fic that you loved writing?

i am curious 👀

There's no way I can choose only one story because I love almost all of my stories. So prepare for a long post. 😃

Also, thank you for the ask, I love rereading my stories and now I was able to collect and show you my fave sentences/paragraphs. Thanks to you, Nyx, and to a lot of other people, this summer I was able to write a lot of stories and I can't be grateful enough for the opportunities. ❤

So, let's dive in:

Just a nightmare • Simi

“Kimi, wake up,” Seb asked him, this time a bit louder, “It's time to—” Seb wanted to say but the speed with which Kimi woke and sat up almost sent Seb off of the bed, the only thing keeping him there was Kimi hugging him, head pressed to his chest. 

“Seb, you're here,” Kimi said, Seb's heart thundering under his ear. “Oh my god, you're here...”

“I'm here,” Seb nodded, pulling Kimi closer to his chest, running his hand through his boyfriend's blond hair and then hugging him back, both arms around his head, “I'm here, love. I'm here,” he repeated while kissing his boyfriend's hair and trying to take some deep breaths to slow his heart down because that could help Kimi too. 

Home • Simi (This whole story and universe is very special to me.)

“Don't worry about it. It's okay,” Kimi said, “You can lie back if you want to. You used to love sleeping on my chest. How was it for you now?

Seb slowly lay back, letting out a satisfied sigh as his head landed on Kimi's chest.

“It was... It was good. Easy to sleep. Felt safe.”

Dream turned into a nightmare • Charlos

“We should have a shower,” Carlos said, caressing Charles' cheek with his thumb. Charles was beautiful like this, his green eyes glowing, a soft smile on his face as he was levitating between a dream-like place and reality. He had never imagined their first time could be this amazing with Carlos being incredibly gentle, taking time to prepare him, not wanting to cause pain or any discomfort, always asking for permission and everything. It was like a dream. 

“We'll have time for that later too,” Charles whispered, drawing shapes on Carlos' right upper arm, enjoying that nobody will bother them because they're alone as Carlos' parents have gone from home for a few days. 

“You like to snuggle, no?” Carlos asked, sliding his left hand down on Charles' back all the way to his ass, resting it on the cheeks. They were lying on Carlos' bed, all naked, Charles' body sticking to Carlos' because of Charles' own cum on his stomach. They should really have a shower but Charles enjoyed the snuggle too much to care. 

Broken Hearts and Broken Dreams • Lestappen

“I hate you, Max,” Charles turned to him again. “You took everything away from me. Everything. If I keep the b—”

“You are of course going to keep it.”

“That's not your fucking decision, Max. My body, my decision. [...]

Safe place • Carlando

Daniel's farm has seen quite a few developing relationships and it has always been a safe place for them. 

In Sickness and In Health • Simi

In sickness and in health, they say. Seb and Kimi knew it well.

Notice him • Kimi&Antonio, Simi

Antonio smiled and put his hand on Kimi's shoulder. “Maybe it's just that he can sing and you can't. But—”

“I can sing. I just choose not to.”

Antonio burst out laughing. It made Kimi smile. 

“Yeah, I can imagine you singing in the shower.”

“I'm a generational talent.”

Still a human • Simi

Sebastian took the thin paper out of the box and when they caught a glimpse of the soft, red lace bralette laying beautifully on the beige satin material which the box was lined with, tears started filling their eyes. It was such a big step for them to buy something like this. They could feel some kind of relief. They were alone, they had their first-ever bralette and they were ready to try it on again and maybe wear it for a while.

Sebastian took off their t-shirt and lifted the soft, red lace bralette out of the box. Their hands were shaking a bit but they tried not to care about it as they put the bralette on.

Sebastian took a deep breath and tried to get used to the feeling of wearing a bralette. They looked down at their chest and smiled. This was the feeling they were looking for, for a long time. Relief, happiness, and confidence. They can be themselves now after all the years of trying to suppress their real self. Sebastian was proud of themselves for finally taking this big step.

I'm still here • Simi

“You weren't the one that had to experience seeing his husband almost die at home and then in the ambulance too. I was the one who had to see it and hope that I won't have to leave the hospital alone, Seb,” Kimi said, finally looking into Sebastian's eyes, “I can't think about death like it's something... Something nice and reassuring and part of life and things like that. I'm okay with my death. I don't care about it. But yours is different. You're my husband, you're my everything. It's not a part of my plans to see you leave me alone for the rest of my life. If you have to go, I want to go with you. It wouldn't be the same without you.”

Blood, sweat and tears • Lestappen

“I'm tired of Ferrari,” Carles said, not letting Max finish his sentence. “I'm tired of being Il Predestinato and I'm tired of always fucking up and I'm tired of not having one single race where everything works and we win and I'm tired of always doing my best but never being good enough and I'm also tired of always just saying that the next year will be ours. No, it won't be. It hasn't been ours in the past God knows how many years either for fucks sake!” Carles raged, slapping the surface of the kitchen island with such a great force the sound made Max twitch. “Fucking shit,” Charles muttered under his breath, feeling his palm burn and tears filling his eyes. 

[...]

Charles was lying on Max's chest, listening to the calm beats under his ear, letting the tears fall until there wasn't any left. There was only one thought in his mind:

I'll give my blood, sweat, and tears for this. 

You're here now • Carlando

“Cariño,” Carlos breathed in relief as he hugged Lando tight, their hearts racing so close to each other they could nearly touch and become one strong and scared pump finding its healthy rhythm again as Carlos and Lando breathed into each other's neck, not letting the other go for long, long moments. 

Battle scar • Galex

“I just don't want you to be in pain,” George murmured, moving closer to Alex to cuddle him.

“I'm not in pain anymore. You're a good nurse, Georgie. It could be a good second carrier for you after retirement” Alex smiled, changing their position a bit so now he was the one cuddling George. George needed it more, it was clear. Alex held him close to his body, his naked torso radiating warmth towards George's face. It was nice for him to feel Alex this close. Alex was gonna be okay. It's just a small injury, George kept reminding himself.

“Maybe as your personal nurse, if you keep getting injuries.”

“Maybe I'll keep getting them so you can nurse me back to health every time,” Alex said, with a soft smile, kissing George's soft and a bit messy hair.

“You like it, yeah?”

“I always like it when you're here with me,” Alex confessed, fearing George could feel his heart racing in his chest because he was only a few millimeters from it. “I like you.”

“Maybe I like you too,” George murmured, looking at Alex for a moment before putting a soft kiss on his lips and then burying his face into Alex's chest, feeling the pounding of his heart on his cheek.

I'm breathing... • Lewis&Bono

“Are you alright?”

“Just an anxiety attack coming,” Lewis opened his eyes to look at his engineer, “I'll be alright, don't worry. I'm trying to… Breathe through it.”

“Is there a way I can help you? Should I call Angela?” Bono's engineer instincts kicked in and he wanted to solve the problem as soon as he could. 

“No, she deserves to have a rest. And you're here,” smiled Lewis lightly. “Your voice helps.”

“Want me to talk to you?” asked Bono and when Lewis responded with a nod, the engineer brought the chair that was next to the wall closer to the couch so he could sit down. 

“Talk about something that's not racing.”

[nine-of-diamonds]

🛼 🥤 🍄 📚 🌿 🪲 🐝

for that ask game^ you don’t have to do all of them this is simply a curated selection by yours truly

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

i mean, you have classified knowledge on which one i last worked on but here ya go: ☕️👀😇👋🤡

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

been reading a few fics from Inquillitory (Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone is a good angst read and i’ve been following It Hurts To Hope for a few chappies now)—can i recommend your own writing on an ask you sent in?? ksdljf;lsfsdlkj people who are not melon, go check out 1watermelontea they have a fun fantasy au and a co-written mer au with me :)

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

the actual last thing was me reminding myself that i lent a friend a book (ninth house, if anyone’s curious) but the last fic related note i jotted down was written two days ago at like. 3am and it simply reads, “LT inspired au: gem = vanja, pearl = ragne???” (kudos to anyone who catches what i’m referencing)

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

in my experience, there are two main types of writer’s block, generally: there’s the “your body is rebelling against the idea of creativity bc you haven’t eaten or drank in ten hours or you’ve been criminally overworking yourself,” in which case, the fix is just… a break and self care. then there’s the “brain will not write/generate ideas for seemingly no reason,” which is about 10x more annoying to work around but usually i either table whatever i’m struggling to work on and work on smth else (hence why my google drive is a Monster lmfao), get my brain warmed up by rereading and sometimes editing a finished fic, or doing this trick i learned in english class ages ago and just. writing all my thoughts in a list format until my brain spits out a new idea or decides it’s ready to actually write.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

did. did you just trick me into adding to our wip ksldjfl;sajfs

since the full paragraph is not 50 words (and also bc technically melon wrote the first word lol), y'all get an extra sentence from the next paragraph as well:

"Totally.” Her gaze flickered briefly over to her… imaginary friend? Scar watched as he clamped a hand over his mouth, seemingly concealing an amused smile. Pearl shot him a pointed look before turning to Scar. “What floor are you heading to?” 

Scar blinked at her, then upon realizing he hadn’t thought this far ahead in his plan, instinctively blurted out, “Same as you!” 

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@1watermelontea hello melon, the answer to this question is just. you. i’m gonna use this as an opportunity to respond to that secret author’s note (for those of you who are not melon/have no idea what note i’m referencing, my dear co-author decided to be sappy in the notes of our fic chasing the horizon line go check it out <33): i’m so touched?? writing with you has been so so much fun and i get so excited whenever i see you’ve added things to our docs and just. chatting with you is always a highlight of my day :D

[popcornforone]

The Speed of Silence

Mr Ben Fan Fic

I didn’t plan on going back to Mr Ben for a while. The SNL hype had dropped & I was in deep writing some other drafts I had on going. & then @alwaysdjarin tagged me in someone’s twitter post going write a scenario based on a certain idea a moot had. Here I am 12 days later publishing it.

I don’t like to big up my work but there’s a paragraph in here that I wrote & when I reread it I was like damn I wrote that. Also yes I know the book shelf picture is Rockford but it was part of the inspiration for this, so I wanted to include it.

Synopsis: Mr Ben is rumoured every year to be dating the popular girls at university, so why would he ever look at you. But then a few chance meeting & a late night study session in the library, make you both think about making those rumours true.

Word count: 5,700

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!college professors student relationship (but you are not his student) protected PIV sex, public sex, swearing, pining, unrequited love, choking & muffling, rough, teasing flirting kissing. Eventual established relationship.

All feed back as always is welcome peoples… thanks for the read. It’s really appreciated

10pm the clocks slowly tocks past, headphones on, another coffee poured, in the university library trying to write you appendix for your art portfolio your handing in tomorrow. You knew when you looked all these artists & photographers up for inspiration you should have written down who inspired you. But no it’s now 10pm & you’re missing 8 references to submit along with your sight & sound presentation.

You know full well you don’t need the references though. Your photographs you have of traffic moving at night almost leaping out the page at you & your puddle reflection of what life should be like in the city instead for he chaos it is, speak for themselves. No matter who walks past your screen at the moment even if they don’t do the subject for your degree, just stops & does a double take. Your creation is the talk of the university be it pupils & staff or teaches.

But there’s one who’s taken a particular interest. He not your teacher. He teaches Philosophy about 5 class rooms away but he shares an office with your art & photography professor Jane. You are often popping in the office to book additional time or ask to use the larger printer. It was once when you were waiting for Jane to bring some resources back that he came in & started a conversation with you.

“So your little miss photoshop?” He says as he saw you waiting for her to return. “That I am professor, Jane has just gone to get something for me that I don’t have the funds to print off, I’ll be out of your office in 5minutes.” “Ooooh no…” he says with a slight smirk as he pops his bag on the back of the door “I’ve heard so much about this art, I want to see it what makes it so special, why is yours the talk of the campus”. He adjusts his large framed dark glasses. LIt’s nothing really I…” “you can’t say that without letting me judge it, please•”he waves a hand as he pours his coffee & casually leans against the back wall “I’m most intrigued”.

His eyes sparkle at you. You’re not sure there’s a brown rich enough to ever try & replicate those on any art software, they are unforgettable once you’ve made eye contact. Which you just have. It’s for all of a passing second but you’re lost, so so lost in them. You’re never getting out of this trance ever. He must see you blush as he very quickly moves away from leaning & fidgets. You go to your carry folder & produce 4 drafts of your work in progress, about The Speed of Silence & start to explain what it means & why you’ve done it. He stands there nodding hanging on every word you say agreeing & asking your different techniques. He really in engaged in your art & is mesmerised by it, like you with him.

He lowers his hand to ask a question & your hand brushed over his sending chills down your spine, it’s just the slightest feather touch but it’s enough to make you want more. He then takes his hand & rests it on top of yours. You both freeze & gulp, both unsure what to do next. “Professor i…” “shhhh it’s okay I think we…” he’s edged in your personal space, his head slowly drawing close to you, when You both hear the door click & Jane humming to herself so you break the look & return to showing him your art. “Ahhh here you are my sweet, sorry the lift was broken that’s why it took a while. Oooh Ben you’re here. Help me sort these out for her so she can take what she needs” & I pause in a fluster. My breath caught in my throat, my palms sweating instantly. This isn’t just some professor, this is Mr Ben!

Mr Ben every year at university, there is a rumour he’s dating a popular blonde student. It’s kind of mythology, & he goes along with the joke & plays up to it. But no one has ever actually seen him with a partner inside or outside of campus. If he is dating the blonde from the football team as she claims he is, or the brunet from drama he’s hiding it well. He’s not dating Jane, you all met her wife on the field trip to the Andy Warhol museum. But here you are standing in Bens shared office having just had a genuine moment with the man most men & women on campus would give an arm to do… & you did it without even realising.

You’re snapped out of your trance by the voice of Jane eventually “just because your art works at so many rates per second, doesnt mean you can slow down & daydreaming to” “sorry miss I just had a random though & my mind wondered” “maybe if you’ve got a wandering mind, you should sit in on a philosophy class?” Ben asks with a smile on his face that makes you feel weak. He’s biting his pencil & looking at you suggestively “…I…I… I really should get going” you sigh once you’ve taken what you need from Jane & your portfolio is back into your art folder. “It was lovely to meet you professor…” “it’s Mr Ben but please just call me Ben” he extends his hand which you take & shake. Large & firm & also just the right feel to it. It’s only once you get back to your room that you realise in your art portfolio & resources, that Ben had slipped his business card in there, with his office number & email.

You didn’t email him for 2 weeks & you actively asked Jane in her classes for supplies or support. You wanted to avoid Ben for as long as you could, hoping you had dreamed up the meeting & the stolen moments you had shared. He had filled your dreams since that precious glance & you didn’t want to fall further under his charm. Avoiding him you thought would help but it’s just made it worse. However fate lead to your paths crossing, not at campus but at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. You were in the gift shop looking at post cards scanning for ideas for your silent part of your art, when he walked past & turned back almost doing a double take as he went to leave”miss photoshop what a pleasant surprise, what brings you to the met on this wet winter afternoon?” He leans next to the display as he engages in conversation with you. His coat looks warm & cozy even if a little damp due to the rain, but his hair is in pristine place & his glasses are either missing or replaced with contacts making those eyes even larger “I need something for the silence part of my project sir, but I’m having a hard time picking it, so I came to watch people look at art in silence to see if that gave me inspiration but it hasn’t”

“That’s a shame” he says “let me buy you a coffee & we can people watch together if you want” “I’m sorry what professor?” You say in shock “it’s just Ben,” he offers his hand “I encourage all my students at least once a month to go people watch & come up with pretend story’s for who people might be that walk past them, it’s like a window to their own soul as they try to guess others.” “Did you just quote Man Ray?” You ask “because then I’ll take you up on that coffee & we can talk art & photography while we people watch.” The smile on Bens face is infectious. Gone is that moody professor who people gossip about. The person in front of you now is a man & clearly at least a friend, you both have a connection with the other. “I’m happy to talk art & people watch, it would be an honour.”

You start off people watching in silence sipping coffee unsure what to say to each other or about the people. The tension is palpable. & then someone with a Star Wars bag walks past you & you ask Ben “rebel, sith or jedi?” & that’s all it takes. For the next hour you both sit there talking about where all these people are going & what’s happening with their lives, sipping coffee & laughing. It’s only when his phone rings & it’s on loud that people shhh you both & he answers it. “Sorry, I have to go” he says. “But this has been fun, much better to sit here & talk with someone else & people watch than do it on your own” he says as he stands & you notice how tall & long he is. “thank you for the coffee Ben, as much as this was fun, it didn’t provide the spark I need for the silence I need for my project.” “Maybe inspiration will hit you a different way.” He replied & grabs your hands to help you up, almost pulling you into his chest. You can feel as your hand is wrapped around his wrist that his pulse has spiked. You both stand in silence for a few minutes & then shuffle awkwardly unsure what to both do next. At the end of the day you might not be his student but he’s still a professor at your college. You, against everything your body & heart are screaming out for more, decide not to act on your own needs & wants.

You both head outside the museum & it’s still raining. “Do you want to share a cab?” Ben asks in a friendly way “thanks Ben but I’m off to a friends now, i’ll get the subway but I’m sure we will bump back into each other soon” you blush trying to hide his affect on you. “Have it your way I’ll see you soon, I hope you work out your project” he waves a friendly good bye & goes to get in the taxi but he’s still distracted by your big smile & doesn’t see where he puts his foot. “bollocks” Ben shouts. He stepped in a deep puddle before shrugging at you & then gets into the taxi which speeds off. But in that reflection you see in the puddle from the ripples, the grey sky & lights of the city reflect back to you. The madness of the city being so calm & reflective in one tiny puddle. Ben has given you the inspiration for the other half of your project without even trying.

You don’t go to your friends, you head straight for the high line, one of your favourite places in New York & you start taking picture of the rain falling, the puddles forming & slow silent reflections gleaming back at you. It’s almost to perfect the mixture of architecture, nature & photography. It’s too good to be true. You don’t care that you are drenched to the bone & will be sick for 3 days in the next week, this is the perfect calming yang to your traffics ying. It going to look phenomenal.

You have every week since then gone to a different museum to see if Ben is there to people watch with, & you’ve also been popping into the office to discus your art with Jane, talking to Ben a few times. You’ve not yet told him he’s part of your inspiration for this, you will do before the presentation at the end of term. But you & Ben now have a close friendly relationship. He says hi when he sees you walking about & you have slight giggles & little jokes with each other. All harmless fun, but there are still moments when your eyes meet that you can’t deny to yourself, that you would like to be who the rumours are about. He always asks about your art & has asked Jane who it’s all going for you too. You hope he puts in this much dedication with his actual students.

10 days ago however your world crumbled. There was a rumour Ben was dating a student in the first year. As someone in their final year, you’ve heard all these story’s before & know they aren’t true. But you heart just feels like it’s shattered. Everything you had hoped for that you might have one day with Ben has gone. You remember this is just everyone’s fantasy & it won’t be happening to you any time soon. The student is what he’s always rumoured to go for, athletic, bit ditsy, blonde & stick thin. Not someone with blue streaks through their black hair, a squishy nose who could probably eat that girl as she’s so skinny for diner. You are heart broken from the relationship you’d secretly wanted more from, even though you hadn’t been brave enough to act on it. You bury your head into your art & try to not think about it at all.

You’ve seen Ben since this day & been nice to him, but you just feel a little lost. It is just a fantasy, everyone wants for Mr Ben to be there’s. To have a few stolen moments but you were sure it might slightly happen to you but it hasn’t. So you’ve plowed on with & burrowed your head in your art portfolios & are now just hours away from your deadline in the library, referencing as much as you can ready to hand in your appendix in the morning. It’s only when your music pauses in your ears, that you realise someone is sat in the chair next to you, with their own cup of coffee. You can tell from the hand on your music player alone, exactly who it is.

“Ben” you say not having to whisper at 10pm, as you remove your headphones. There’s all of 8 students in here all with their own headphones in. “It’s late what are you doing here?” You ask. You’re startled but also instantly calm that he is here & he is looking so handsome. The tie he is often seen wearing isn’t on, the glasses dark frame matching his dark black shirt & his selves are rolled up. He looks at you with genuine concern & affection in hope to help you with whatever it is you are doing. “Late night study group with my second years, 6 of them just haven’t understood the last 3 essays I’ve asked them to write or read, so we did a coffee & cake night. I think 4 of them have finally got it though, I always think it helps to share the problem, no matter what it is.” Ben takes your hand, that large thumb trailing over your knuckles, what you wish you could do with that thumb. “So I was walking past & thought I’d pop in to see who was in the library this late, & who do I see…you, little miss photoshop, with your head in a pile of books & websites, not actually creating. Is everything okay?” He ask, your eyes meeting & you do everything you can to look back at your work from this handsome distraction, but he lifts his hand to the side of your face to turn you back to face him as he softly whispers “seriously, your amazing, your perfect, I’ll do anything”.

That’s all it takes. You lean in touching his face in return & tentatively take his lips with your own. He’s a-gasp, shocked at your advanced. He can feel all the butterfly’s you have felt for the last few months since you met him. You’re electrified & then you very quickly break away from your embrace & look back at your laptop & not at Ben, but you can still feel him on your lips & how he made you feel like you were going at a million miles an hour but also completely still much like your photographs. “Shit” you mumbled “Ben I…” you don’t get a chance to apologise, Ben has turned your face back towards him & is engaging in the next kiss. He’s hungry like he’s waited for this for ages, like he’s willing to break all the rules to have a few stolen moments with you but he wishes he could have more. Your of age & an adult & not his actual student, he’s not that much older than you. He wants this but he has so many conflicting things going on in his mind right now, as do you. But you are both desperate for each others touch. This kiss is the best you have ever had. No man or woman has ever made you feel this good from just one kiss.

“Sorry” he says “I just had to be sure I wasn’t dreaming”. His words come out breathy as he pants. “I should go…””No!” You shout & realise it was quite loud for a library even when there is no one really here. “Please stay, your presence calmed me when I realised it was you” Bens half way out of his chair unsure if he should sit back down or go home. He wants to stay & distract you from your appendix, In so many ways. It’s all he thought about since he met you. Those few stolen moments in his office, your little smirk at the museum, the way your hands are so expressive when you talk. He noticed every single detail & he is desperate to make a go of this. He looks in your eyes & he can see the same desire & longing being directed back to him. He has to make the choice for the both of you.

“Grab your laptop & books & come with me” he states,”there’s better wifi else where in the library, it will make attaching your appendix faster & then we can talk”. Ben goes to pick up his mug & yours & raises an eyebrow at you. You know deep down that this isn’t going to be studying, you know you’re actually going to be the girl the university gossips about & if it’s true or not. “Okay Ben, I’m almost there though I’ve got 8more…” But Bens hand doesn’t go for your mug & you are interrupted. His large hand strokes across your chin before his thumb that you have often wondered what it would feel like, traces over your lips. You gasp & instantly become aroused. It’s so flat & soft & it make you want to suck it & beg for some of his other fingers else where. “Ben” you moan as his hand moves away. You hit save & collect you items putting them in your 2 bags & grab his hand, while making sure no one is watching you sneak off with a professor.

Ben doesn’t even check, he wants you & he needs you. The second your hand entwines with his, he is off at a speed your art is. He take you to the back of the library which is dimly lit & is where all the media & art books are. “Oooh you actually wanted to help Ben, I didn’t realise.” You feel a little flat thinking Ben has no intention of doing anything other than be a professor at this moment. But the second both your bags are on the table between the two rows of bookshelves, Ben is hoovering over you. Eyes filled with desire, his breathing is short, & you can feel his wanting of you radiating from every inch of his body. He doesn’t need to say a word. You cup his face & kiss him deeply as he pushes you against a chair at the table. Those large hands of his, twisting your hair, before one moves down your back to rest just on your waist, so you can be pushed further into him. You never want to break this kiss. The way your body is responding to his, is magnetic. The way you moan & groan just from a simple deep kiss, one filled with all the lustful dreams you have ever had about Ben, just taking over your mouth & making you want more. You know you’re aroused, your pleasure is screaming for him to touch you even more. Ben is also trying so hard not to just cum in his trouser right now, he needs you to relieve his own pressure as he grows harder.

“I don’t know what happening” you eventually mumble as he starts to kiss your neck “but I’m happy it is” you both say at the same time & then both have a little giggle before his eyes meet yours again. “If you’re not comfortable with this…” Ben starts but you squeeze his arse through jeans which makes him yelp. “So we did have a moment when we first met then?” You ask him “oooh yes & I’ve been trying to work out since that moment if I would be in trouble for asking you on a date, your not my student, I’ve never asked any student out before or even kissed them, even if they have since left” this makes your heart flutter. All the myths about Ben are false, he’s squeaky clean & is a moral teacher to be looked up to. No affairs with any students at all, & then you remember why he’s saying this all to you. You’re about to become his exception to the rule & you really don’t care. You’re going to be the hearsay.

“Well technically we have been on a date at the museum…” “that doesn’t count” Ben replies “& for half of it we sat there in silence & it was a chance meeting” he lowers his head to whisper in your ear seductively “however if you’d have got in my taxi, it might have been another story” he peppers kisses down your neck “no it was destiny for your to leave without me. Where did you think I got my reflection art idea from Ben?” He pauses his kisses for 2 seconds as he goes “really?” Your shy nod through your blushes are as hot as the next kiss he gives you. It’s so powerful that he pushes you into the book case, which creaks. “Ben” you moan at his sudden movement from the table. “This is so intense, I…I” “shhh baby shhhh” his lips are still searching for yours & your chin, as his hands move to your hips, which are desperate for friction.

“I…I…I need you Ben, I need you & im not sure my body will allow me to wait to get back to my room or your place, maybe your office or…” but you her the clink of his belt being undone as he moves a hand so it’s leaning over you holding the book case “baby, I don’t think I can make it to my office. I wish wed had this moment sooner, so I could have taken you out on a date first. I wish I had known, I wish I had” “the signs were all there Ben” you moan back at him as you undo his fly, the zip sound wrong but so erotic “are you happy you want to do this?” You ask & your hands move to your leggins & knickers to roll them down in a second “im the man, I should be asking you?” He responds in a soft tone. “Are you sure?” He asks & his face for a nano second has turned serious asking for your consent. “Yes Ben I want this, I want you” is your clear response Consenting to his pleasure as you step out of both your leggins & knickers & he reaches into his back pocket to produce a condom. “Yes baby, I promise we will do this properly another time” he rolls his jeans & briefs down to just below his knees & you see him cover his impressive length with the protection.

Ben edges closer to you & starts to raise your dress ready for a clear & swift entrance inside you. “You… you are okay with this… this isn’t your first time?” Ben asks suddenly very much aware he’s about to have sex with a student in the university’s library & not everyone has had sex before “Ben I’d have been even more hesitant if it was, & I’m on the pill” is your response. A small smirk creeps across his face before his lips lock with yours & he pushes hard against you & the shelving. He teases you slightly before he pushing inside you. You moan loudly, he’s girthy & much larger than you have had before. It pinches & pushes all the air out of your lungs. “Beeeennnnn” you growl, feeling so full & satisfied already, desperate for more movement.

Ben doesn’t say a word. He just sighs & thrusts again & you whimper. Your mouth & jaw go slack at the most relaxed but also most sexy feeling you have ever experienced in the world. He lifts your right leg to wrap it around him for a better & more enjoyable for the both of you, his hand gripping your thigh firmly. This hand then moves up your body & towards your mound with the next couple of thrusts, before his thumb, that large thumb that was trailing across your lips, flicks at your bud, you instantly clamp around his cock & moan loudly “yessss Ben” & his other hand covers your mouth “shhhh baby we don’t want to get in trouble now do we, be quiet girl & we can have some fun” & his hips really start to move.

Who’d have thought Ben was so adventurous in not only wanting to have sex with a student, but to do it at 11pm at night, not just in public but in the library where he works & you study. He has thought about you & how your body would feel for months now, when you had sex. But here he is, his length pulsing inside your core making you want to make the most erotic noises in the world, as he drills into you, with his hand over your mouth “shhhhh baby we don’t want to get in trouble do we, save the moaning for another night” he says as he movements become larger & the book case starts to creak that he’s pushed you against harder.

Crash! the first book falls from the shelf with an almighty thump from how fast he is pushing you into the unit. It’s not even a small book. It’s Hockneys complete appendix of British culture. It’s a coffee table book. So if he is thrusting that hard at this early stage, how much faster is he going to go? Your eye glances down at it but then return back to those large dark Carmel’s that are dilating with every second , every pulse & every want he has to make you feel even more of a woman than you already are. He’s so large, he’s making you gasp for every breath. He is giving this all he’s got. “I know you want to moan my love, but keep it down okay” he removed his hand from your mouth, but not before he allows you to suck his thumb. “Ben oh Ben oh baby yes” I whisper trying to not sound so needy & desperate.

He moves with an impressive rhythm. The book case creaking & the occasional book hitting the floor is louder than your collective moans & panting. You feel every thrust inside you making you want so much more. Bens lips move from your face to your neck, sucking & pecking away at it. His hand is now towering over you for balance as he goes & he breathes heavier. Such a large hand capable you now know of many naughty things you can both explore. Your own hands are digging into his hips & shoulders as you try not to scream from pleasure. “Yes Ben” are the hushed tones coming from your mouth “baby oh baby,you’re so good” he replies back. Every time he thinks you are moaning too much, he slows down slightly & he kisses you back on the lips, to remind you to stay silent. The moan he makes as he pulls away & speeds up again is louder than the noise you were previously making.

“Fuck ooh yes, so close, you feel so good…” you’ve reached the point of no return, as these breathy high pitched words leave your mouth. His hips blistering into you, he’s almost there too. He grabs you around the throat which makes you gasp & also shuts you up. It’s not firm but you did not have Ben down for doing that. “Shhh baby, we’ll get in trouble”. He mumbles as 2 more large books fall out of the shelving “don’t…care…” you just about manage to get out before your rendered speechless by the next 3 thrusts that hit the spot & you let go. Your orgasm spiralling through your body. Ben lips shhh you as you go to scream yes. You bite into his bottom lip to try & keep your cry of pleasure down. He’s sent you over the edge. Bens rhythm falls out of sink & the deep shallow growl his voice makes into your mouth, happens as he fills the condom with him own cum. Slowly he stops his movements, & eventually the books stop falling & the shelving once again becomes silent.

You wrap your arms around Bens neck as you both open your eyes which you’d both closed while cuming. His eyes less filled with passion now but still so handsome & so dark & mesmerising. Panting & sighing happening between you both. His hand cups you cheek “you have the most beautiful eyes” you eventually manage to say to Ben & a small grin covers your face in your afterglow. “No I don’t” Ben replies “yours eclipse anyone’s with beauty, they really are the window to the soul” You bring his face into yours for another deep kiss, one full of hope & wanting more than this. Your hand goes up into his hair to caress his head as you make out continues.

“We need to clean this up” Ben say when you eventually break from your embrace & he shimmy’s his briefs & trousers back on after tying off his condom. “We don’t want to piss of the library team do we” you quickly put the books back between you & make sure everything is in as a correct place as possible. “Am I really the puddle inspiration?” Ben asks inquisitively as he adjusts his glasses. The glance from your eyes of pure love tells Ben the truth without you saying a word & he walks up to you & kisses you. “So I’m guessing tonight we created our own version of The Speed of Silence?” You muster once the kiss is over, never wanting to be far apart from those lips again. “You could say that” Ben smiles.

For the next month campus is full of gossip. There are rumours that there was sex in the library & that people heard books crashing & that no one been able to find that Hockney book since, but no one’s taken it out. As someone who doesn’t usually contribute & look like they pay attention to the rumours you find all this funny & really what you want to do, is tell people how right & wrong they are. No one has worked out the it was Ben or you or the both of you. You’ve had sneaky sex since, once in his lecture room when you did sit in on a class & twice in the art supply cupboard, but he’s yet to take you on that date he promised. Maybe all the rumours about Ben being a one off passionate lover were true.

However on the night of art & photography show case, things moved. You stand there explaining to your fellow student’s, alumni & teachers about your project when you hear a voice from behind you. “Why puddles?” Ben says & you turn around & you both beam at each other “whatever caused you to think of that must have had a really deep & meaningful impact on you” “yes it did professor…” you wink at him & Ben turns red & try’s to concentrate on the rest of your talk. Moving uneasily desperate for more.

Once the group you were talking to leaves, Ben slides in behind you “congratulations little miss photoshop, you are the talk of the campus, in more ways than one” His hand slips into yours, that large thumb tracing across your knuckles. “So are you Ben” I glance up towards his face. “I wish this was something more thorough, if I’m honest” you sound a little bit down despite this being your night to shine.

“& it will be” is Bens quick response & his eyes gesture to his bag, which he opens & you gasp. He has the missing Hockey book inside it. “Should we go return this, have a repeat performance & then I can take you out for dinner?” Ben ask. Eyes wide & seductive looking into your soul, once again making everything fly past so fast in your mind but also freezes you in time. You hand trails across his chin. “Took you long enough to ask Ben” He waits for someone to walk past before he kisses your forehead, & then takes your hand. “Your art speaks for itself, let’s go now & give the campus some real gossip to talk about” & Ben leads you out of the exhibition & back to the library, for your own private viewing.

[lostinlewis]

In Another Life...

Rating: Soft, Angst

Words: 2350

It was hard to describe the emotions that ran through you, a lifetime of work finally being honoured by the very best in the industry, and fans that appreciated you so loudly, ones that you had acquired with little exchanges of soul crushing angst, along the way too.

The exhibit of your work was nearing its final few hours now as you felt the weight of the weekend finally begin to lift from your shoulders. Clutching a glass of wine you had taken from the waiter in the corner before he left the room, you allowed yourself a few moments to take in all that you had achieved.

The exhibition room was the largest the museum had, white walls that held framed displays of your words. Some long paragraphs that had resonated with the audience from the jump, other more unique sentences, sentences that you had written behind the mist of tears that flowed in abundance, sentences that told the world of your pain whilst your face told them of nothing but bravery.

It was as you stood in front of a line you favoured the most, a line that came from deep within your soul during one of the darkest periods of your life, a line you can still picture the scene of you writing, 3am in a London hotel drunk on room service champagne and day old mascara decorating your cheeks, you felt the cool room get warmer.

It was as you stood reading the sentence over and over again, mouthing the words as if you were revising them for a test you had later, that you felt a presence beside you, someone joining you to view the display, someone who had warmed the ice of an empty room within seconds of being inside of it.

“Maybe, just maybe, in another universe there is a version of us that made it.”

You could have been mistaken for it being the emotions of the weekend mixed in with the emotions of the text you read that made you confuse the voice that read the words out loud for the very person it was written about. 

It couldn’t be, could it? After all these years, what were the chances it was him?

“Do you think there is?” 

It was him. There was no mistaking that tone of voice, that unique tone, the unicorn of a British accent that was mixed with an American twang, it was him, after all these years, it was really him. 

“What are you…why?”

It was as you looked at him that you felt the room begin to spin. He barely resembled the man you had fallen for all those years ago, he had a beard now, and longer hair to match too, but it was definitely him, the baby cow eyes with eyelashes you always envied confirmed to you that it was really him. 

“I read an article about you this morning, it said you were in the city…I couldn’t not come, I tried but I couldn’t stay away.”

The honesty in his words was unexpected, he was never a liar when you knew him but he was also never a man who was quite so free with his thoughts. The years had changed him, the many years in which you had missed, had shaped him into a man that you always saw deep within him.

“This is…this is so…”

“Weird? I know, it’s weird for me too. It’s been a long time, a hell of a long time, but look at you…”

Lewis’ eyes drew down your body in a way that made you immediately shy. You thought to yourself of all the many outfits you would have chosen to wear had you had some warning of his arrival, a million different looks you would have gone for to impress him, but you knew you were being foolish, he was the past, there was no reason to satisfy the gaze of the past. 

“You look great too. I heard you’ve been quite successful at that racing thing you always loved?”

For the first time in fifteen years you both shared a breathy laugh at the understatement of the century; success didn’t quite do his achievements justice, really. 

“You could say that, but so have you. Best selling novelist? You always did love to write yet you always told me you lacked inspiration. I’m so glad you found it, eventually.”

The smile hadn’t quite lifted from your face, you tried to shield it a few times as you let the glass hover over your lips, sips of wine that was now too warm for you to enjoy, allowed you a little shy retreat from pouring your heart out in just a smile. 

“I guess I should thank you for that really, it all started in the aftermath…in the aftermath, well in the aftermath of you.”

Lewis’ smile dropped and you knew what that meant, no matter the turbulence that your relationship had, and it had lots, he never wanted to hurt you, so to hear he had done that so perfectly it had inspired multiple stories, made him feel awful. 

“I’m sorry for what happened, for letting you go…”

An apology he owed you, one that you also owed him, the breakdown of your relationship was equal parts your fault as it was his, yet you couldn’t quite bring yourself to return the courtesy, pride wouldn’t let you.  

“...the truth is that losing you is still my biggest regret.”

“We were kids, Lewis. We both made mistakes, we both had no idea of what we actually wanted. It was a long time ago, a lot has happened since then…”

His smile was back, a half smile that resembled relief more than it did happiness as he made eye contact with you once more. 

“That’s the tragedy of it really, so much time has passed. I've been to so many countries, I’ve been in so many rooms full of people, but not a single one of them could make my heart race the same way you did…”

Your eyes grew wide at his admission, sure he was the easiest man in the world to find out about had you wanted to, but you had known better than to ever seek that information out. Long gone were the days in which you chose to break your own heart, ignorance had remained quite a blissful existence. 

“You never settled down? You never married?”

There was a look of shame in his eyes as he thought of his answer, a look of familiarity of questions he had been battling from the media - and his mother - his whole adult life. 

“The truth is…well, you are still the first person I want to call when I am happy, and when I am sad. I couldn’t do that to another, I couldn’t give them a part of me knowing I would never be able to give them the whole of me.”

“Lewis, that’s silly…it was…we were so long ago now.”

The way in which he shook his head in disagreement was almost heartbreaking, you felt an urge to wrap your arms around him, to comfort him, to tell him that he was free now to find another to love him, but you couldn’t.

You couldn’t do that for him because the close contact would have been unbearable for you but mostly you couldn’t do that because you were selfish, despite how you insisted and portrayed a woman who would give someone everything she had if they needed it, with Lewis you were selfish, you always had been.

The thought of him loving another, the thought of another woman waking with those arms you had found so much comfort in, wrapped around her, another woman finding peace in a man who had once been your own, tortured you more than any other thought. 

Lewis made you the woman you were today in many ways, he taught you strength, he taught you self love, he taught you courage to chase dreams you had held secret forever, but he also taught you selfishness and greed. You had never quite had your fill of Lewis, and forever you would feel hard done by in that regard.

“Mummy, mummy!”

The little girl's voice startled you both as she appeared like a whippet in the room, running over to where your numb with shock body stood next to the man she never even knew existed, yet he was the man who was the biggest part of your life before her. 

“Hey sweetie.”

Your daughter wrapped her arms around your legs, it was about as high as she could reach. She was too young to realise what this moment was but as she stared at the stranger who was causing the tension she could feel in the room, she could sense his importance somehow.  

“Daddy said he’s going to take us all for ice cream, are you almost finished?”

You had never regretted your children, you loved both of them more than you ever thought possible, but selfishly in that moment you wished your daughter would leave, you wished that she would grant you an extra five minutes with your past, you hoped she would find her way back to your husband, to your son, to the world that was now your present and your future, and just wait for you to finish with your past.  

They had you all the time and they would have you in the future, surely they could spare a few minutes for the past?

“Go be with your family.”

You could hear the pain in his voice as Lewis stared down at the little girl that resembled the greatest love of his lifetime, so much so it shook him to his core. 

He was right, you knew it. What you were doing right now was only opening old wounds that had long scarred over with tissue that was just strong enough to hold you together, whilst also being so fragile that the littlest thing could tear you apart once more. 

“I’ll be right along, sweetie. Go tell Daddy to find the best ice cream shop in town, we are celebrating after all.”

The little girl ran back through the door in which she appeared, leaving you alone in a room so large that even a whisper created an echo, with a man whose presence made you want to scream a thousand sentences of heartbreak he had inspired. 

“Thank you for coming, Lewis…”

Never before him and never after him had you met a man whose face told of his emotions with ease, he could never really lie, his eyes would tell you all you needed to know in the wrinkles that decorated them. 

You could see it in the way his smile, although wide, was not quite wide enough to make it believable as it didn’t reach anywhere near his eyes. He didn’t want you to leave, he wasn’t happy to send you back to your family, but you could also see the pride of the young man you fell in love with all of those years ago, being matured into the man he stood before you now, a man who put everyone before himself, a man who loved even when he knew it was fruitless, and with you it was exactly that. 

He took your hand and you jumped in your spot a little, it had been fifteen years since you were held by him, it was long enough for him to feel like a stranger now yet he didn’t, you knew him, your body knew him, and as he brought your hand up to his lips to kiss it, you closed your eyes to wish him to never ever stop. 

“In another life, beautiful. In another life I would be waiting in the car for you. In another life I would have never let you leave.”

It was hard enough walking away from Lewis the first time you did it but this time was ten times harder. The first time you had hope still that it was temporary, that somehow fate and the gods you prayed to would guide you back to him, but this time you weren’t so foolish. 

As you walked away from the man you had never quite gotten over, you turned back to look at him for one last time. 

“Lewis…”

You called out to him as he faced the words you had written about him so many years ago, asking him to look at you for the final time. 

“...what you said about another universe, I know that it’s true, I know that I will love you in this life, in the next and the one after that too.”

You didn’t linger to see if his smile reached his eyes this time, you couldn’t face him any longer and as you made your way out of the room, through the now empty building, and headed towards the car that carried your life now, a single tear rolled down your cheek, a tear that symbolised the remnants of the feelings you had for the man, the feelings that quickly held at your jaw before falling to the floor of the museum. 

It was quite fitting actually, that not only were you leaving Lewis behind as you walked through the huge glass doors that evening, that you were also leaving the feelings that you had harboured for him there too. 

It was time to move on, it was time to recover and it was time for you to accept that not all love stories end in a happy ever after, some love stories are chapters rather than novels, and whilst your Lewis chapter would certainly be one of your favourites in this lifetime, it wouldn’t be your best selling novel, that was an honour held for the man who had taught you how to love again and the children that had shown you a love that was unconditional.

And besides, Lewis always had your next lifetime to try and make your story last longer than a few lines.

[americas1suiteheart]

Heres a little year old pilot chapter from my wattpad to give some writing content while I finish some of the other stuff. It has a few chapters done as well so I'll post those after too.

<?>Obsessed With You

[Riddler 2022 x Cop! Reader]

[Summary; The reader is a GCPD officer who became infatuated with Edward after getting assigned to investigate and try to find out who the riddler was.]

[Notes; Really short, the reader is gender neutral though so anyone can read it.]

[Warnings; none really, unless you're gonna be bothered by the fact that the reader is a cop and other cops are mentioned.]

Next chapter>

I watched him from my window sitting in that little diner, having a cup of coffee and a slice of pumpkin pie. Oh how I wanted to approach him and talk to him, only if it was a simple hello, or just eye contact. I just wanted him to acknowledge my existence. To know who I was.

I only knew who he was under the mask due to the fact that I had watched him in his own apartment, I was desperate to know what he looked like. He really didn't look like the type of person to be the Riddler.

Dirty blonde hair, clear frame glasses, round face and green eyes. To any normal person, he looked like another ordinary person trying to make it through life in Gotham.

I worked with the GCPD and after the Mayor's and Commissioner's murder and was told to try and look for him. But after my Co-workers had seen how deeply I was looking into this guy, they told me to put the case aside and have a break because I had gotten little to no sleep. But I didn't want to take a break. Everyone was telling me I was getting obsessive about the case, it's not like that though. I'm only doing my job, right

If I were doing my job I would've already turned him in. I didn't want to turn him in though. I wanted to keep watching him.

Maybe I had become somewhat obsessed but whats so wrong about that?

"Fuck it." I say to no one in particular other than myself. Why not? Your only going there to talk, get a name, and then do a little more research for GCPD. You knew that wouldn't be the case but you didn't care. Why should you?

You walk into the almost empty diner, only two other people apart from him are in there. You take a seat two seats way from him and place the book that was in your hands on the table and begin reading while you wait for someone to take your order. He didn't seem to acknowledge you, he seemed focused on something else. He was writing paragraphs into a small journal.

"Hello, what can I get'cha?" The waitress asks.

"Oh um, just a black coffee and slice of pumpkin pie please." You see the waitress scribble in the little notepad.

"Oh yeah, also the coffee is free for you." she says walking away. 'Free coffee? Why?' I think to myself.

"Cops get free coffee if your wondering. Have you never gone to a Cafe and gotten free coffee?" A voice says. You turn your head to see that the one who spoke to you, was in fact him.

"Pardon?" You say, confusion laced in your voice.

"You are with GCPD right? I mean unless you stole that jacket from someone." He says, touching your jacket.

You look down to see where his finger was and it indeed was where the patch that had the letters GCPD on it is. 'Shit...', You had apparently forgotten to take your jacket off before leaving.

"O-oh. Uh, sorry that's quite embarrassing. I guess I forgot to take it off after shift." You say with a small chuckle, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, tends to happen to someone when they're tired. Speaking of which, you look as if you haven't slept in a few days. Case got you staying up?" He asks, going back to writing inside his notebook.

"Oh yeah definitely. That riddler guy is making me overwork myself, I haven't been getting much sleep at all." I say.

"Oh, I know how that feels. I used to work in forensics so I know just how hard some cases can be. You see things that'll keep you up for days sometimes." He says.

After that small conversation, he finished up what he was doing and left. You were there because you wanted to approach and talk to him, so after he left, you had nothing else to do so you finished up what you ordered, paid, and left the diner.

Once you arrived at your apartment you thought about the conversation you had with Edward and smiled to yourself, excited over the fact that he noticed and even talked to you.

'He's mine, he just doesn't know it yet...'

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

Did I forget to mention the fact that this is really bad? Yeah kinda, but this is basically me filling in the large writing gap that will happen until I'm able to finish one of the requests.

Send in your requests for stories! Look at my introduction to see if anything you like is something I'll write, and DM me for further questions!

[filthyslashertoad]

Stu Macher Fluff Oneshot

@veneaq

This took a lot of "procrastinating"

Matchups: CLOSED, if you send me on at this moment it will be deleted.

(Also "Little Lady" is just smth he says kinda like honey or beautiful.)

Before you even knew Stu, you had met Billy. You and Billy were close, but not enough to where he would tell you his secrets, specifically about the one having to do with Stu. Now, you and Stu weren't the closest, well until...You had met in English class because he tapped you on the shoulder, begging you to help him with one of his overdue assignments. You thought it would just be him asking you a few questions about the assignment and then he'd leave you alone...You were sorely mistaken.

Right after class ended he walked over to you, asking you if you'd be alright coming over to his house to help him with the assignment, it wasn't like you'd never been to his house before, you had actually gone to multiple parties at his house and once you even dropped by to give something to Billy.

You agree to his request, asking him what time you should arrive, but to your surprise, he offered to drive you instead.

"So! How's your day been." Stu stares at you, awaiting your response.

"My day has been good, what about you?" Stu smiles at you, a goofy grin on his face.

"My day was really good!" He says, looking back at the road. "Anyways, I was thinking, maybe do you wanna get some video tapes or some snacks before we go to my house?"

"I- sure?" You didn't know how to feel about his offer, it wasn't like you two were best friends or like you were about to hangout and watch a movie. So you just decided to go with it and before even 5 minutes passed, you had arrived at the store. Stu turns to you with a goofy expression on his face, winking at you.

"Ya ready, lil lady." Without even opening the car door he climbs over the door, jumping onto the sidewalk. When you walk inside with him he immediately grabs you and takes you to the candy section, asking you about what types of candies you like. After you picked out some candies, he dragged you to the chips area and after that he took you to the drink aisle. By the time you left the store, Stu had bought two giant bags of both drinks and snacks. (He does tend to overdo it sometimes)

The drive to his house after that was short and quiet, only music playing from a mixtape that he played on repeat constantly to and from school. The road to his house was rocky, making the car shake as Stu crept the car into the driveway.

"So, what do you think of my house! Ya like it!" He gets out of the car, grabbing the bags from the trunk before guiding you to the front door. As soon as he opened the door he guided you to the living room, he dropped the bags next to you and then went upstairs, when he came down he was holding his English book and a random historical book. Walking over to you, sitting down next to you on the couch. "I got the project started but I wasn't sure what to do next, can you help me?"

"Yeah, sure. Is this the book you picked to write about?" For a moment after you finished talking he didn't say anything and when you looked over at him, he was staring directly at you. After a few minutes he realized he was staring and began to feel embarrassed as he tried to find an answer to your question.

"Um...Yeah" Was followed up with "It was just a random book I found laying around and I figured I could use it."

"Oh ok, you should be able to just record the dates of each event in the book and write a few paragraphs on each part."

"Really? I already did that, I just assumed that there would be more to do on this assignment." "..., I know this is a strange offer but would you be interested in hanging out with me even though I don't need your help with the project, I've been wanting to watch a new horror movie with Billy but he's been busy."

"Ok!." Stu went to get the movie, leaving you to grab so snacks for the two of you to share.

[livsspecialinterests]

don't really know what I'm writing or why but it's 0350am and I'm sitting in bed unable to get back to sleep having a weird slight panic

idk whether I'm feeling a bit of a writing slump because I know that the dead should stay dead still has quite a way to go and some part of me worries that by the time I've gotten at the very least to the next big plot point a lot of people may very well have lost interest in the fandom

like I know it's silly because there's probably always going to be some sort of fandom around BJTM but this little community means so much to me and has meant so much to me during a really difficult and life altering time, I mean for gods sake I started writing fics to try to figure out my own meltdowns

plus at this point I really have no other strong interests, idk maybe I'll get super into Doctor Who again with the specials and the new series starting but I've really gone hard on the One Interest

I really love the last few chapters of the dead should stay dead but it's felt a bit different writing them. maybe it's because I feel a little guilty spending whole days on chapters when I've got so much that I need to do for work (I know it sounds sad but there's exams, portfolio etc), plus I'd really like to give writing original fiction another go

there's also that gnawing fear that the fandom is going to like... vanish, which again is probably not true in its entirety but once the tour ends I can see some people falling off or finding another thing

also people leaving or drifting away from the fandom is a completely okay thing to do I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad if that's what they want to do

it's also not to say that people are obliged to engage with or comment on my fics or hell even read them, of course no one *has to* do anything in fandom it's a bunch of people just having fun

I know I should just write for my own fun and enrichment but external validation is nice, okay? plus these past few weeks the external validation and thinking 'no, I want to write this for the people who are reading the fic and want to know what happens next' have been big motivators

my main motivator used to be this absolutely unstoppable creative drive and love for the show and it's characters (which is still there, I'm unfortunately going to love this silly show until the day I die I think) but this past week I've found that I'd rather study for my work exams than spend time writing a few paragraphs

if I cool it off a little with the frequency of chapter updates it'll probably be a net good for me, I really need to buckle down and get these exams passed, I need to start actually engaging in planning my career because I think in my head I've been thinking I might get a book published one day and as a result I've been sort of half neglecting the actual really decent career I've got

but also my mental health is so much better, I've mostly healed from a lot of my late diagnosed autistic trauma, plus work is actually quite good right now?

maybe more of my writing for BJTM fics was motivated by being mentally ill than I originally thought, and maybe I don't *need* to write fics anymore but I want to and I want to still love writing fics as much as I did back when I was having that difficult time, where it was a huge personal comfort to be able to write Beej having a hard time in very specific ways and have other people comfort him

I have said to my husband that I'll probably cool it with the fics once I've finished the dead should stay dead and am going to focus my creative energy on something original to see where that goes but there's still so much to go on the dead should stay dead..

that silly little fic has become like my baby, I want to write it all, flesh out the characters before the next Big Thing happens, I want to do my ideas justice but I also want to make sure there are people still in the fandom to read it once I get to that point

again I'm super tired it's the middle of the night and I'm rambling, I don't want to imply that anyone reading this should carry on reading something they don't enjoy, and I don't even think the number of people reading the fic has even gone down, I've just woken up this morning full of dread for the fandom changing because, fandom and interests wise, BJTM is kind of all I've got right now.

I didn't really belong to a fandom for years after BBC Sherlock ended and I realised while watching the 4th series that it wasn't that good there was just a very passionate fan base and that's what I likes (I know, I know), BJTM was the first thing I got really into for ages and the first thing I got really into while figuring out what it was that I got *really into* stuff (autism)

obviously no one has to stick around in a fandom for the benefit of a silly autistic fanfic author whos terrified of change, and please, please don't think that's what I'm implying or what I want

ughh idk what I'm even writing, I should probably just reach out more to people but doing that is scary without the buffer of a fic

I should also probably invest more time in doing stuff irl but I know that no hobby gives me the joy that writing gives me, like when I'm really vibing with something there really are few better things for me than being safe at home and writing

also maybe I should try to get into some other stuff but I don't really want to but equally I know the BJTM fandom isn't going to last forever I just.... 🙃

the silly musical and the silly community that has sprung up around it and making art and writing fics for it has saved me in so many ways I'm just scaaarrreedddd (and also tired and typing this at 4am so I might be being dramatic for nothing, plus I know I struggle with assuming any fleeting emotion is going to last forever, maybe I'll feel different in a weeks time idk)

anyway I'm going to try to get a little bit more sleep because I've got to be up for work at 6 for my actual grownup job that I should probably pay more attention to

(this is also totally not some way to subtly say I'm not going to finish the dead should stay dead BTW, I love that fic and I'm proud of what it is and what I've got planned for it, so to the people who are still reading please don't worry 💜)