#Non-Urban Scene

[moaan]

Cloudy Then Sunny by Katsuaki Shoda

[kaelula-sungwis]

Lioness with a baby warthog in the mouth, Samburu County, Samburu National Reserve, Kenya by Eric Lafforgue Via Flickr: © Eric Lafforgue www.ericlafforgue.com

[chourzahi]

La Chicago River, ou rivière Chicago, étire du Michigan Lake au centre-ville de Chicago

[messino88]

Trees growing on a field

[writingwithfolklore]

6 Ways to Develop Your Writing Intuition

Read broadly—articles, genres you normally wouldn’t, authors or writers you’ve never heard of, work from your classmates or friends

Try several versions of each scene—add things, take away things, experiment and explore with your stories and scenes, try things you don’t think will work, or take inspiration from prompts to change your scene in new ways

Get feedback—without colouring your feedbacker’s opinion, ask people what their impressions are of your work, listen to them

Write things you normally wouldn’t—if you always write from a female POV, try a male or non-binary one (or other). If your settings tend to be rural, try urban. Explore creative non-fiction if you’ve always written fiction, or poetry, etc.

Watch movies, student films and plays—see if there’s a film fest in your city, or a student show, or a small theatre production. Don’t just limit yourself to blockbusters.

Write reviews for different media—even if you don’t post them anywhere, by thinking critically about the media you consume you can begin to develop your sensibility for what a good story or characters look like versus ones that fall flat for you.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Horror

Horror is a genre within creative writing that relies on one thing: instilling a sense of fear in the reader.

The horror genre is multifaceted—there is a kind of horror for every kind of person.

For some, the most effective scare is the idea of being trapped in a haunted house. For others, it’s being chased by a serial killer on Halloween.

Some of the best horror comes from scary things that can manipulate an audience’s feelings, creating a sensation of uneasiness and fear that stretches beyond consciousness and permeates deep within the psyche.

Horror writing is sometimes categorized within the broader category of thrillers, but not all horror follows the thriller structure.

Classic horror fiction—whether expressed as a novel, novella, short story, or film—will tap into topics that reliably frighten most humans.

Common topics include ghosts, werewolves, vampires, zombies, serial killers, murderers, and the fear of the unknown.

These horror tropes can often devolve into clichés.

A downside of horror’s popularity is that many horror books and movies recycle old content in non-creative ways, but when properly executed, horror stories can thrill audiences and even provide commentary on the human condition.

Horror Subgenres

1. Apocalyptic - In this subgenre, the world is ending or society is collapsing. When this happens, it’s usually because of some creature, demon, or religious event (while climate-oriented apocalypses are more sci-fi).

2. Body Horror - Involves the mutilation, experimentation, or violation of the human body. It can focus on disease, dismemberment, infestation, sexual acts, or a complete transformation of the physical form.

3. Comedy - Horror and comedy seem so at odds with each other, but they work so well together (kind of like spice and chocolate). A trademark of comedy horror is how the protagonist somewhat stumbles through the story, arriving at the end through luck and ridiculous happenstance rather than skill or growth.

4. Cosmic/Lovecraftian - With its origins largely attributed to H.P. Lovecraft, cosmic horror makes us feel small against a threat that is ancient, massive, and incomprehensible. Cosmic horror looks at intergalactic entities, ancient gods, the machinations of the universe, and how helpless we are against it all.

5. Dark Fantasy - Another crossover, this time with the fantasy genre. In dark fantasy, you have elements of magic, fictional creatures or worlds, and everything else that makes fantasy great, plus you add in a good dose of scares. This can also involve other subgenres, like body horror.

6. Dark Romance - Another crossover genre, dark romance takes the feel-good romance genre and makes it horrific. While this subgenre can simply include morally questionable characters and a grittier tone than most romance, it can also include kidnapping, forced confinement, BDSM, psychological and physical abuse, and sexual violence or sex where there is no consent. Bear in mind that it still needs to include the tenants of romance stories, though.

7. Extreme Gore - Not for the faint of heart, this subgenre includes books that have detailed torture scenes or otherwise disturbing and depraved acts. This genre is all about shocking your audience with how awful your characters act or are treated.

8. Folk Horror - Embraces urban legends and folktales. These range from old pagan gods in the woods to weird rituals performed by isolated groups or villages. Sometimes there is a supernatural element to them, even if the “supernatural” is simply perceived or believed by some characters (e.g., Midsommar).

9. Found Footage/Documentaries - Though this subgenre is more common in films than books, found footage and documentary horror stories are about a crew of people recording their experiences, usually unaware of the true danger they are about to face.

10. Gothic - The great-grandparent of modern horror, gothic horror is the brooding, atmospheric genre containing what most of us would consider classics (e.g., Dracula and Frankenstein). Sometimes you throw in a dash of romance, but these tales tackle topics like death and mortality.

11. Post-Apocalyptic - After some world-ending disaster, how horrifying have things become? Post-apocalyptic horror shows us a world without rules or structure. It can contain unrealistic elements (zombies, demons, etc.) or realistic possibilities (cannibals, gangs, and so on).

12. Psychological - Places the spotlight on trauma, mental health, manipulation, phobias, and everything else that causes you to become stressed and anxious. Home invasion stories (i.e., The Strangers) fall under this subgenre.

13. Slasher - Involves violent horror that is more about a single killer stalking and eventually killing a group of people (traditionally targeting teens and using a blade). This subgenre isn’t necessarily as violent or gory as others, but uses suspense to make the reader hold their breath.

14. Splatterpunk - Is known for its disregard of limits when it comes to violence—both physical and sexual. Gore and depravity are grossly abundant.

15. Supernatural/Paranormal - Some folks separate these two subgenres into different categories, but there is so much overlap that they’re basically the same. If you have to, think of supernatural horror as stories that involve werewolves, witches, vampires, and other monsters. Paranormal horror, on the other hand, involves ghosts, demons, and haunted houses.

Tips for Writing Horror

1. Read more horror. There’s no better way to understand what a good story looks like than to read one for yourself. Read as much as you can so you are aware of what other horror writers are doing.

2. Focus on your own fears. Much like comedy, horror benefits from authenticity. So get personal: If you can scare yourself, you can probably scare an audience.

3. Create three-dimensional characters. Write characters whose character flaws feed the action of the story. All good literature and film contains well-wrought characters with desires, emotions, and a backstory. The more human you make the characters of your story or screenplay, the more their missteps and bad choices will resonate with an audience.

4. Recognize that the real can be scarier than the surreal. Sure, you can make up an army of googly-eyed bad guys or plant a severed head in your main character’s bed, but will you really scare your reader? Not necessarily. In most cases, psychological horror sticks with audiences far longer than a jump scare or gross-out moment in a slasher film. Toying with people’s real-life fears tends to scare them much more than just grossing them out.

5. Use the environment. Scary movies and television shows can use jump-scares as an easy way to frighten an audience, but writing scary literature requires its own method of manifesting fear. Setup your environment in a vivid way to fully immerse your readers into your setting. Vividly describing an enclosed space can elicit feelings of claustrophobia. A dark and quiet house becomes more frightening when a character suddenly hears the creak of an upstairs floorboard. Being an outsider in an unfamiliar place, like a small town with no cell phone service and where everyone knows each other, is already unsettling—and if you add a malicious paranormal force to such a setting, you can enhance the feeling of isolation and ramp up the anxiety of the scenario.

6. Write longer sentences. You can heighten your readers’ fear by writing paragraphs with longer sentences. Periods provide natural pauses for readers to take a breath, but if you stretch out your sentences, you build anticipation for the reader—which they might not even realize until they reach the end of the sentence. By using tactics like this, you immerse the reader into your horror story, making them feel what the main character feels and creating a heart-pounding connection.

7. Make your readers breathe faster. Whereas long sentences can amplify the intensity of a story, short one-sentence paragraphs can force your readers to take more frequent breaths while following your narrative. Crafting abrupt lines builds tension in your scary story writing, making the readers’ eyes move more quickly down the page searching for the relief that the protagonist is safe. This can make your audience breathe faster, contributing to the feeling of panic and anxiety.

8. Leverage fear of the unknown. Fear of the unknown is a common theme that can be tracked throughout many of the best stories in horror fiction and horror movies. When there is something that negatively affects us that we cannot control or properly identify, it creates a feeling of panic and dread. Teasing your readers with something not quite definable or a bad guy no one knows how to stop can increase the level of tension and fear when writing horror stories.

9. Lean into dark imagery and your readers’ collective imagination. Consider what images might be frightening to a reader (and yourself). How much of a description of a clown do you need in order to make a reader feel uneasy? How large and grotesque does a rat need to be? Leaving some of these images more general than specific will allow a reader to fill in the blanks with what is most horrifying to them. Example: If you read the word beast, what do you see in your imagination? Most words carry connotations and personal connections. Allow your words to work for you to create the maximum scare.

10. Want tension? Sprinkle in some foreshadowing. Foreshadowing is a powerful tool in your writing arsenal, but it is particularly effective in horror, especially when writing in third person. Foreshadowing is when an author alludes to a future event by showing us something now. The key to foreshadowing is to use it sparingly. We want to up the tension and the fear our readers are experiencing while they yell at the oblivious protagonist not to open the door. We don’t want the reader to know every single thing that’s going to happen. 

11. Focus on the moment where things shift. You should consider a pivotal scene in your story idea and try to build around that scene or that moment where the plot actually “shifts.” Sometimes that could be reflected in a realization by the protagonist. Other times it can be represented in some type of ironic twist at the end. By looking at that singular element of your story idea, you cut away the fat so that the reader is left only with the most resonant part of the story.

12. Establish the mundane. Mundane is just a fancy way of saying normal, but the message still rings true. Most story structures tell you to start by establishing the Ordinary World: what our protagonist’s normal life is like. This is important for showing us how important the larger conflict is, because it threatens the protagonist’s normal. In horror, establishing the mundane is arguably more important. In a story where connecting with the character and empathizing with them over the godawful stuff you, the author, put them through, the reader needs to understand just how bad life has gotten. Then you can take both your characters and your reader from a place of comfort and familiarity and plunge them into whatever shadowy hell you’ve concocted.

13. Choosing your POV. By choosing to write your story from a first-person perspective, you are putting the reader exactly where your character is. There are 2 types of third-person POV—limited and omniscient. It is advisable to stay away from omniscient. Part of writing a good horror story is withholding information from the reader, which third-person omniscient doesn’t really allow for. Considering the pros and cons of the different points of view, choose the right one for your story.

14. Avoid clichés. Clichés are boring and predictable, and a horror scene that is predictable is likely to not be scary. A good horror story can still use familiar horror tropes, but a great horror story makes them its own. Look beyond the obvious when trying to write a scary scene—what is something readers wouldn’t expect? How can you surprise them with fear? Use enough of the existing tropes to be identifiable as horror, but make sure you insert your own originality into the mix. One of the reasons people gravitate to genres in general is because they have certain expectations for what should happen in the story. Look for ways to flip archetypes on their heads.

15. Practice. If you’re struggling to get a handle on writing a good story that’s scary, practice with story prompts (see some sample prompts below). Writing prompts can expand your range of thinking and open up new avenues of imagination that you hadn’t thought of before.

Horror Writing Prompts

A scary doll comes to life.

A scene from a nightmare comes true the next day.

Days go by, and your parents don’t come home.

You feel yourself slowly becoming a monster.

Your friends start to disappear, and no one else notices.

You’re lost in the woods, and you don’t know how you got there.

You’re inhabited by a ghost that controls you and makes you do crazy things.

You have no reflection in the mirror.

The teacher is a monster, but no one will believe you.

You hypnotize your brother, and you can’t snap him out of it.

A fortune teller reveals that you are evil.

Someone follows you home, and it’s your exact double.

You find a diary that tells the future.

Every time you wake up, you’re a different person.

Your parents explain that you are actually an alien from another planet.

You know someone is watching you day and night from the house across the street.

You realize you are shrinking.

While reading a scary book, you realize that you’re a character in it.

Someone is living in your mirror.

Everyone knows the new neighbors are vampires, and the kids invite you over for a sleepover.

All the cats in a small town vanish in the middle of the night….and all that remains is a set of big, scary teeth smashed into a car door.

A group of friends takes on the zombie apocalypse.

Strange things start happening after the grandfather clock starts to speak.

You finally meet your child’s imaginary friend. Who turns out to be a serial killer.

When a local police officer goes to investigate the haunted house down the street, he finds a young girl who died decades ago.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

Gene Tierney (Laura, The Ghost and Mrs Muir, Leave Her to Heaven)— The class, the elegance. The way she walks into frame and immediately all focus is on her. She had a pretty lengthy struggle with mental health that she describes in her book, which I think made her all the more sensitive in portraying characters like in leave her to heaven. Also she dumped JFK so

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

Gene Tierney:

The entire plot of Laura is that a guy has to become completely obsessed with a woman after just seeing her portrait. This only works because Gene was cast in the role. I 10000% believe anyone could fall in love after seeing her face.

Those eyes! Just look at those eyes! She’s at her hottest in Leave Her To Heaven— I literally want her to ruin my life.

Absolute grade-A babe, she is the perfection incarnate.

Gene Tierney was beautiful, poised, intense. I associate her with roles where she was murderous or an intelligent woman being patronized to - like a woman on the edge! As far as I am concerned, she deserved to do whatever she wanted.

She had a slight overbite which was amazingly sexy, and a throaty voice that was very memorable as well. She’s terrific in Laura, which reminds me I should watch it again.

EYES!! Her diabolical acting in Leave Her to Heaven is just perfect, Rosamund Pike definitely took notes for her Gone Girl from her.

Oscar-nominated and simply one of the most beautiful women to ever walk this Earth.

Absolutely stunning. In Leave Her to Heaven, she reaches Rosamund-Pike-in-Gone-Girl levels of “holy fucking shit?!?!?!” She had a fling with JFK in the ‘40s and also dated the exes of Rita Hayworth and Hedy Lamarr (Prince Aly Khan and W. Howard Lee, respectively). Sadly, her daughter was born with a disability (during a time in which there were few good mainstream options for disabled children and their parents), likely because of a fan who was sick with measles and went out of her way to meet Tierney (who was pregnant) anyway. Topical! Sure would be good if people stayed home when they were sick! Anyway, she was also a Republican, which sucks. Laura and Leave Her to Heaven are great viewing though.

[novlr]

6 more writing playlists for theme, mood, or specific scenes

These playlists are an eclectic mix to inspire you across a variety of genres, styles, and themes. Got a character starting a semester at music college? We got you! Do you need to encapsulate the spirit of 1960s counterculture? Sorted! There are even some genre-specific playlists to inspire your next Fantasy or Steampunk project, a collection of emotional songs for when you want to break a character’s heart, as well as a mix of lo-fi tracks with an urban feel that you can use to write quiet night scenes, or as an ambient soundtrack to some night time writing sprints.

Writing a Semester at Music College

This playlist, with its modern Jazz vibes, will help you perfectly capture and write about the life of a student at a music college. With complicated rhythms and virtuosic performances, you’ll be able to write your characters’ whole college experience from dorm room to classroom.

Writing 1960s Counterculture

No matter what genre you’re writing, this playlist is the perfect snapshot of the changing musical styles and social politics of the 1960s for the writer looking to capture the vibe. Whether you’re a non-fiction author writing a book on the time period, or a fiction author writing a thriller with a 1960s setting, this is the playlist for you!

Writing Quiet Nights in Urban Spaces

This collection of minimalist lo-fi tracks has the perfect calm feel for a dark city night. It perfectly captures the sounds of the city going by in the darkness. This is the ideal playlist for writers to imagine a moment of calm in an urban world, whether it’s for your characters, or just as an ambient soundscape for a midnight writing sprint.

Writing Fantasy Battles

If you need to capture the epic highs and lows of fantasy battles, then this collection of instrumental music is perfect. Full of thumping drum beats and virtuosic strings, this is the ideal playlist for both historical and fantasy writers to get their imaginations into gear.

Writing a Breakup

Moody tunes to inspire writers to write about heartbreak and breakups. Let the performances of these singer-songwriters wash over you as you prepare to break your characters’ hearts.

Writing Steampunk

This eclectic mix of Victorian-style instrumental music and cabaret carnival sounds will help you write the perfect Steampunk setting. With elements of melodic, symphonic sounds, ticking clocks, and industrial soundscapes permeating the background of these tracks, you’re sure to get all the Steampunk inspiration you need.

We're always updating our writing and inspiration playlists, so give us a follow on Spotify! Are there any specific playlists you'd like us to put together, let us know.

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter One

Summary:

Your colleague Dr. Ancunin is a smug condescending bastard and you can't stand him. But you also can't get him out of your head.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Tags/Warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no breeding kink, masturbation, vaginal fingering, vampire bites, modern au, college/university au, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, like the briefest mention of suicide while talking about Hamlet

This would not exist without @zipzoomzaria's gorgeous glasses screenshots because PROFESSOR, PLS. Go follow her bc her edits are out of this world. The masturbation scene is also heavily inspired by @astarionfreak's "Are You Satisfied, Darling?" If you haven't read it what are you doing???

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

There’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. It could be his arrogance, or the condescending way he peers over his glasses at you and your other colleagues. It might be the overpriced cashmere turtlenecks that hug his figure perfectly or the stupid silver earrings adorning his stupid elf ears. But every time he opens his pretty little mouth you feel a snarl growing deep in your throat.

This is the first university you’ve worked at where the theatre and English departments shared an office. Theatre and music, sure, even theatre and dance. But theatre and English? It feels insulting, honestly. English PhDs are some of the snobbiest people you’ve ever met, and they always speak to you like a child. Is it because they’re unimpressed by your MFA, like it made you less deserving of your position? Who knows. But Astarion Ancunin is no different.

“Grace, would you mind making twelve copies of pages 219-254 when you get a chance?” You hand the administrative assistant the heavy book. “You can leave them in my mailbox, I’ll pick them up later.” Grace opens the book to the instructed page.

“Oh, Much Ado About Nothing! I love that one!” she squeals with delight. “That Beatrice and Benedick,” she sighs, stroking the Complete Works lovingly. You smile at her cordially.

“They’re great, they’re basically the non-problematic version of Kate and Petruchio,” you respond in agreement.

“How tragic that Taming’s writing is better.”

You whirl around to see Ancunin walking in looking at something on his phone. He doesn’t even look up as he inserts himself into your conversation. You glare at his interruption. He looks up at Grace, bypassing you completely.

“Good morning, Grace darling, how are you today?” He sweeps over to her and takes her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles. Gods he’s fucking insufferable. Not to mention unprofessional. Grace, however, blushes and giggles like a schoolgirl.

“I’m doing well, Dr. Ancunin, and yourself?” The tiefling’s voice jumps up about three pitches and her tail starts swishing excitedly.

“Leagues better now that I’ve been blessed with your presence,” he coos at her, voice positively saccharine. It takes every ounce of your patience to keep from rolling your eyes. He casts his gaze to you, and even you need to turn away from those piercing red eyes.

“Good morning, professor. Starting Much Ado with your students, I take it?” he asks with a light smile that makes you bristle.

“Yes, it’s a great way for them to practice switching between verse and prose,” you respond coolly, more than a little defensive.

“Of course, one of his best.” He glances down at the volume still in Grace’s hands and his eyebrows raise, peering over the top of his round glasses. “Going with the Bevington, hmm? Interesting. I’m more of a Norton man, myself.” He runs a slender finger along the binding as you grit your teeth. Is he really patronizing you over your choice of edition of Shakespeare’s Complete Works? Of course, he’s an English scholar.

“The Norton is a great tool dramaturgically, but the Bevington is a much better resource for actors, so, yes.” Your voice is steady but there’s an undeniable venom in it. Can he tell how much he’s bothering you? Probably, he’s almost certainly getting enjoyment out of riling you up. His little smirk would seem to suggest it, at least.

“Well certainly, and who knows acting resources better than our resident classical acting expert?” he intones, voice still dripping with honey. You narrow your eyes at him, unsure if he’s taking another jab at your degree.

“Well, as much as I enjoy standing around and debating the merit of various editions of the Complete Works, I’m about to be late for a meeting. Grace, thank you so much, I’ll be back later to pick up those copies. Dr. Ancunin,” you turn to his smug face and he looks back at you innocently. “A pleasure, as always.” You grab your papers and leave the office, feeling the heat of his gaze boring into the back of your head as you leave.

***

“Yes, Thaniel, come on in, have a seat,” you call out to the freshman loitering in the hallway outside your office. He comes in and drops his overfull backpack next to the teal club chair across from your desk. You close your laptop and smile at him warmly.

“So, Hamlet, that’s ambitious! I think it’s a good choice for you, but it’ll be a lot of work,” you say, glancing at your own copy of the monologue.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here,” Thaniel says nervously. “I’m fine with the scansion and stuff, that I get, but I still don’t get the actual words. And I know you said how important that is.”

“For sure, I can guarantee all of the bad Shakespeare you’ve seen has been because the actors had no idea what they were saying. Have you used the Lexicon?” Thaniel looks off to the side, embarrassed.

“No, I don’t really get how that works either,” he says, an air of chagrin creeping into his voice.

“No worries, it takes practice. Here, we’ll do a few lines together. So first off, to be or not to be, that’s fairly obvious, right?”

“Yeah, he’s talking about suicide, right?”

“Sure, but what is he actually saying about it? To take arms against a sea of troubles/And by opposing, end them. What’s ‘them’ referring to?”

“The sea of troubles?”

“Right, the aforementioned slings and arrows. So even though you might know what those words mean individually, look them up in the Lexicon to see if they have a different context here. But you’re right, he’s trying to figure out if it’s better to suffer through the shittiness of existence or to take your fate into your own hands and, well, end them.” You highlight the line and lean over your desk to show Thaniel. A voice pipes up from the doorway.

“That’s not exactly what he’s saying, you know.”

The paper crumples in your hand slightly as your fist instinctively tightens. You plaster a strained smile on your face and look up at him.

“Dr. Ancunin, thank you for gracing us with your presence. Care to elaborate?”

He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, face in shadows. Your office is unusually dark because of the storm outside, and so the bright fluorescents in the hallway give him an almost ethereal halo effect

“It’s a common misconception that Hamlet is contemplating suicide here. Life and death, sure, but ‘to take arms’ isn’t metaphorical, it’s literal. He’s contemplating dying as a result of killing Claudius, not taking his own life,” he says, almost sounding bored. You stand abruptly, your office chair skidding backwards.

“How can that possibly be true? He says ‘to take arms against a sea of troubles.’ He’s using the active voice, deciding whether or not to continue his life or end it. To be or not to be. It’s the first line in the monologue. He’s not talking about the consequences of killing Claudius.” You try to keep your voice from shaking. You know that you don't sound nearly as eloquent as him, and it’s pissing you off. He shrugs nonchalantly.

“You’re oversimplifying it, it’s exceedingly more complicated than that. The whole soliloquy is filled with war imagery. He’s at war with himself, the part of him that wants to kill Claudius and the part of him that is afraid to die.” He pushes himself off the door frame and steps back into the hallway. “But apologies, please don’t let me interrupt your instruction.” And like that he was off, leaving you to stew in silence. Thaniel looks up at you and looks back at the doorway where he stood.

“Should I…” he starts, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Dr. Ancunin comes at this from a very different angle as an English academic. He’s more interested in the words on the page, rather than how they translate to the stage. But,” you sigh, loathe to give him any credit, “it’s a valid interpretation. We can go down that route, if you want, or we can look at it through this lens.” Thaniel chews his lip while he considers his options.

“I think what you said makes more sense, the suicide bit,” he finally decides. You nod and pull out your copies of the Shakespeare Lexicon.

“Great, let’s go over how to use the Lexicon again,” you say as you flip through the book, looking for the entry for ‘slings.’

***

You drop off your bag and toss your keys into a bowl on the counter. Fucking exhausting day. You unzip your boots and kick them vaguely in the direction of the shoe rack, stretching and curling your toes for relief. You hang up your wet coat and shake rain from your hair. Your eyes dart between the refrigerator, wherein resides a bottle of white wine, and the bathroom door, contemplating how good a hot bath would feel. Both? Both is good.

You pour yourself a generous glass of Riesling and strip your clothes on your way to the bathroom. One of the perks of living alone. Sitting naked on the edge of the tub, you sip your wine as the bath fills.

Fucking Ancunin.

You’re a little shocked at how much he got under your skin today. Normally you don’t think twice about him, excepting the few times you have the misfortune of passing him in the hallway. But today the fates decided to throw you together and your schedules aligned. Well, in your defense, you didn’t seek him out that second time, he was the one who decided to crash your office hours.

You don’t even like Hamlet that much. You certainly don’t care about alternative interpretations of “To be or not to be.” But you’re mostly annoyed because he had a fair point. His read makes Hamlet a more interesting character rather than a cowardly incel romanticizing suicide.

You slide into the bath, hissing slightly as the hot water flows over your chilled skin. Without prompting, Ancunin worms his way back into your thoughts. Hmmph. You take a gulp of wine to try to wash away the taste of the unpleasant image.

Well… not entirely unpleasant. He’s a good looking man, you’d be a fool to deny it. But gods he’s so smug. And interrupting your meeting with Thaniel was wildly inappropriate. Leaning your head against the edge of the tub, you try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You’re not about to let him interrupt you again, and when he’s not even present, no less.

But there he is, in your mind, crimson eyes looking over the top of those metal frame glasses that you’re, like, 99% sure he doesn’t actually need to see. You take another swig of wine to drown his stupid face. With his stupid cheekbones. And his dumb fucking earrings that you want to bite.

Nine hells, what is happening? You’ve been drinking your wine quickly and aren’t thinking straight. You grab your phone and open Spotify, letting your daily mix play through the bluetooth speaker on the counter.

Now Playing: Hatefuck by The Bravery.

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

By Mystra’s fucking grace, seriously? You growl at the growing heat between your legs. Between putting off dinner and chugging your wine, your head is swimming. You might be better off getting it out of your system.

The wine glass hits the tub edge with a clank as you angrily put it down and sink into the water up to your chin. You are satiating a purely physical need, nothing else.

You still shiver as you slip your hand between your legs, lightly running your finger up your slit. You can see his face, looking down on you through those glasses - those infuriating glasses - and your lips flutter. What does he look like under those sweaters? He’s so thin, but his clothes fit incredibly well. It’s not hard to imagine a sculpted body beneath. You spread your legs further and let the warm water tickle your folds.

His silvery curls would look so good between your legs, slender fingers wrapped around your thighs while he laps you up. At least then he’d shut up. A gentle moan escapes your lips as you run your finger along your inner lips, pretending it’s him. You could grab hold of those perfect locks, yanking on them to control where he can go, fucking his face.

You move your other hand up to your breast and start teasing your nipple, feeling his lips around it. You give it a little tug and groan, just like if he nipped at it.

You imagine sitting on his pretty face, pointed ears flushed and hair a mess. Your hips buck into your hand as they might on top of him and your toes curl. You make gentle circles around your clit, thinking of all the other uses for his silver tongue. You whine and squirm at the sensations of heat radiating through your body. You slip a finger inside and hiss as you can see his pale digits entering you in your mind’s eye. You curl it upwards and gasp, his imaginary eyes looking up at you through those long lashes and a smirk playing across his imaginary lips.

“Are you ready for more of me, darling?” You can hear him murmur into your ear.

“Yes, gods yes,” you reply breathlessly into the cold bathroom air. You slide another finger in and feel that delicious stretch. The ghost of him moans, coming undone at the sight of you. You could leave him speechless, for once.

You reach over the edge of the tub and grab the box of waterproof toys. You frantically sift through your collection of dildos, trying to find the right one. Here. It’s long and svelte like the rest of him, but bright shimmery purple. You suction it to the bottom of the tub and hover above it on your knees. It sways lightly in the water, tip of it teasing your pussy just like you’d love to do to him.

Gods, to see him beg for your cunt. To see him reduced to a babbling mess, pleading to let him inside you. Your breath quickens at the mental image of him pulling on his own hair waiting for you to satisfy him. You sink down onto the dildo and your groan of pleasure mirrors what you’d like to hear from him.

You start sliding yourself on the purple dick, feeling its ridges glide against the walls of your cunt as you continue to finger your clit. You imagine your hand splayed across his chest, your black nails standing in contrast against his pale skin. You claw at the bottom of the tub as you increase your pace, desperate to see the pink raised skin that your nails leave behind. The fingers on your clit speed up as well, and you can feel yourself getting close.

“Oh gods, Astarion, don’t stop,” the words tumble from your mouth unbidden. You will absolutely hate yourself for that later, but right now all that matters is your ecstasy. You bounce atop the dildo, disregarding the water that splashes over the side of the tub as you chase your finish. Your moans increase in pitch and fervor as the various images of him in all sorts of positions flash through your mind. Between your thighs, sitting on his face, riding his dick, even fucking pegging him from behind because why the hell not?

“Astarion!” You cry out his name as you crash over the edge, legs shaking and pussy pulsing. Your orgasm reverberates throughout your whole body as you ride it out. Eventually, your movement slows and the water gently sways around you. You look down at your hand, milky juices swirling in the now tepid tub water.

Shit.

***

The next day at work, you avoid him like the plague. You keep your office door closed, usually an unthinkable act but entirely necessary right now. You double check the hallway before leaving to go teach, and then after class you immediately duck back into your office and close the door again. You even avoid the main office for fear of running into him there.

You can’t look at his face right now. You can’t possibly look him in the eye.

When 5:00 rolls around, you glance out into the hallway. Most of the other professors are leaving. To play it safe, you decide to work until 6 so that you can be sure that he’s gone when you leave. You absentmindedly grade performance responses. After you’ve read one paragraph about Miss Julie maybe a half dozen times, you realize that it’s probably time to go.

You slowly open the door and glance out into the hallway. You can’t tell from this angle if his door is open or not. You grab your bag and coat, take a deep breath, and make a beeline for the stairs. As you approach his office you realize it’s open.

Fuck.

It’s fine. You’ll just walk past it and get to the parking lot and then you won’t need to worry about it. He might not even be in there. Or if he is, he probably has his head down and won’t notice you walk by. It’s fine. You’ve got this.

“Oh, professor, a word?” His voice floats into the hallway right as you’re passing his door. Are you fucking kidding? You turn to see him sitting at his desk, head down, writing something. He doesn’t even look up at you. Prick.

“Yes?” you ask, not budging from your spot in the hall. He glances up at you over his glasses. Those fucking glasses. You want to rip them off his face and throw them out the window.

“Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.” His voice is low and cool. Does he fucking know? There’s no way he can know.

Right?

You tentatively take a step into his office. It’s surprisingly cluttered for a man who always looks so put together, but it’s still warm and inviting. You can barely see the walls for being covered corner to corner in bookshelves full to bursting. He’s got a big mahogany desk in the middle of the room - significantly nicer than the university-issued one. It’s covered in stacks of papers, books, weird little knick knacks; it’s amazing how he’s able to get anything done on it. There are two chairs facing his desk, much like yours, but a rich plush velvet instead of a scratchy cotton weave. He’s got a scent diffuser somewhere, giving the room an aroma like an earthy spiced tea.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the cushy red chairs across from him. You stand there, clutching your bag, staring at him like a deer in the headlights. When he realizes you’re not going to sit, he gets up and crosses over to the door.

“Do you mind if I close this? It’s… a bit embarrassing,” he asks with a crooked smile. You can feel the heat in your cheeks rising. Your mouth goes dry and you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

There’s no way he knows.

Right?

But something compels you to nod, so he closes the door and walks back to his desk, but rather than sitting behind it, he leans back casually on the front of it. He’s taken off the blazer he usually wears and is down to just the turtleneck, sleeves pushed up just below his elbows. He crosses his arms in front of his chest as you stare, waiting.

“I wanted to… apologize. For yesterday.”

You blink at him, the conversation not going in the direction you expected. You had been so focused on yourself, that it took you a moment to realize what he was referring to.

“It was inappropriate to barge in on your meeting with your student. You were mid-instruction, and I needn’t have inserted myself into your conversation.” He leaned back on his hands, stretching out his lean figure to impossible proportions. The grip on your bag slackened and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze over the length of his body. He looks at you quizzically.

“I get the sense that you don’t very much like me,” he muses.

Now it’s his turn to give you the once-over, and you feel practically naked before him the way he looks at you. “Then again,” he adds, and pushes himself off his desk. He slowly advances toward you, though whether like someone approaching a vicious beast or a predator stalking its prey, it’s unclear. You retreat while holding his gaze until your back is flush against the door.

No escape now.

He gets precariously close to you and takes an unsettling whiff. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky growl.

“I think it’s entirely possible you like me… quite a bit.” He’s got at least a half foot on you, and he looks down on you with heavy-lidded eyes. The heat in your face has fully reached the tips of your ears now, and your breath comes out ragged.

“I’m sure I-” you start, but it comes out thick and raspy. You clear your throat and try again. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean,” you finally manage with all of the composure you can muster. He cocks an eyebrow at you, then slowly takes off those infuriating glasses.

“No? Then perhaps I’m mistaken, and your heart rate hasn’t increased by approximately 20 beats per second in the past few minutes.” His eyes continue boring into you. “And maybe that smell between your legs is completely unrelated.”

An undignified splutter comes out of you as you press your thighs closer together. He takes a half step back to let you respond.

“If I am indeed mistaken, then I’ve said my peace and you’re free to go.” The seductive honey is gone from his voice, and in its place is a politely professional tone. You fully feel that he’s giving you an out, that you can both laugh on this as an embarrassing moment and neither will bring it up ever again.

But on the other hand…

“You’re not mistaken,” you choke out in a whisper. The lazy smile is back and he lifts your chin with his index finger.

“What was that? Speak up.” His command weakens your knees and you wither under his gaze.

“You’re not wrong,” you say more boldly, trying to meet his energy. His smile broadens, and for the first time you notice two pointy fangs slip out beneath his upper lip.

Fucking

vampire??

That explains how he could track your heartbeat, and even more his ridiculously keen sense of smell. Doesn’t make it any less humiliating.

“No, I don’t suppose I am,” he snarls and suddenly he’s kissing you roughly, hands twisting in your hair and one knee sliding up between your legs. He pushes you against the door and lifts you off your feet slightly. You’re desperate just to keep up as he devours you, hands weakly grasping at his hips, shoulders, neck. But he’s fully in control of the kiss, and after a moment you let him take you.

He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away, and you’re both breathing heavily, air cycling between your lungs. Your head feels full of a thick fog and you can’t fully see straight. His hands are still in your hair, tight but not pulling - yet. You get the sense that might not last long.

He drops to his knees and you nearly double over from the sudden lack of support. He runs his nose and lips across the hem of your black denim skirt, inhaling again. Your fingers lace into his hair, but not even remotely in the dominant way from your fantasy. At this point you’re just trying not to collapse.

He looks up at you, flashing another fang-bearing grin. His hand slips up your skirt and his thumb runs across your pussy, barricaded by your sheer tights and panties.

“Darling, you’re positively soaked,” he hums contentedly. “You’d have a hard time hiding this from anyone.” You bite your lower lip, trying to keep the needy whines at bay. But when he fiercely rips the crotch of your tights and presses the flat of his tongue against the drenched gusset, you can’t stop the cry from escaping your throat. He sucks lasciviously, the debauched slurping noise ringing in your ears. Your knees buckle and he grabs hold of your hips, hiking your skirt up to your waist to get better access to your dripping cunt.

He stands and kisses you again, the taste of you lingering on

his lips. He grabs your ass and digs his fingers into your flesh, spreading them until you gasp into his kiss. In one fluid motion he sweeps up your legs and wraps them around his waist, carrying you over to that incredible mahogany desk.

He plops you down on the hardwood and you hear books and papers tumbling onto the floor behind you. He presses his bulge into your mound, this time the sound of both of your moans mingling pleasingly. He tears at your chiffon button down, trailing hungry kisses down your chest as you throw your head back in pleasure. He makes quick work of fully removing your top, though you’re certain he sacrificed some buttons in the process. You hardly care as you paw wantonly at the back of his neck, desperate for him to get his lips onto every single inch of you. He pulls the lace cup of your bra down with his teeth and starts sucking on your nipple, pressing his hand into the small of your back. You arch into him, his hands working you like a soft clay.

So much for the pleading mess that you pictured last night. Instead, you’re the one who's been reduced to shambles, begging for satisfaction.

“Puh-please,” you stutter, and those devilish eyes lock onto yours again. He snakes his way back up your chest and bites your lower lip.

“Puh-please what?” he mocks your stammering, but makes up for it when he rolls his hips forward, dragging that delicious hardness against you. You squirm, trying to pull him closer but he’s got your arms locked in his grip. His lips leave yours and ghost over the flesh of your neck. He very gently scrapes his fangs across your jugular, eliciting a ghoulish moan from you in return. By all the gods, you hadn’t even considered that as a part of it. His movement made it clear that he won’t bite unless you want him to.

But holy hells do you want him to.

“Gods Astarion,” you gasp, and you swear you can feel his cock twitch at the sound of his own name. “Fuck me then bite me, or the other way around I don’t care, but please get in me!” The string of words almost sounds foreign to your own ears, but you’re well beyond the point of trying to sound clever. In an instant, he’s undone his belt buckle and his erection springs forth, bouncing and already dripping precum. He roughly shoves your panties to the side and sinks his cock and teeth into you simultaneously, drawing out your cry of both pain and pleasure. You wrap your legs and arms around him, trying to pull him in deeper. You can feel his mouth filling up with your hot blood just as your cunt fills up with his dick.

You’re panting as you grow more lightheaded, clinging to his neck. Unthinkingly, your fingers stroke his ears, playing with those tiny silver hoops. He lurches and pulls away from your neck, looking absolutely feral with your blood dripping down his chin, which only sets you off more. You angle your hips toward him, trying to get him to start thrusting into you. He pushes your back down onto the desk and hooks his elbows beneath your knee high boots. Then he starts pounding into you properly, and you feel like you’re close to losing it. You grab onto the edge of the desk as he revs up his pace, his cock stretching you out as he keeps your legs close to your ears. You can feel the heat mounting in your core and you know it won’t be long before you come. But at this point you’re just trying to hold on for dear life.

“Fuck, gods, Astarion, I’m-” You finish before your sentence does. He doesn’t relent as the orgasm wracks your body, if anything, he fucks you harder. Just as you’ve barely come down off your climax, he pulls out and yanks you off the desk, spins you around and pushes your face down into the smooth mahogany, warmed from where you had just been. He enters you again, this time from behind, and already you’re working your way up to a second one. Your bare tits squish against the polished surface and he grabs your hair, pulling your head up and arching your back into him.

For the first time you notice the mirror on the opposite wall across from his desk. But rather than both of you, you only see yourself, disheveled and well-fucked, lips swollen from his abuse. Your hair is pulled up by an invisible force behind you. Another unexpected aspect of vampire fucking.

You desperately wish you could see his face because you can feel his thrusts getting more uneven and erratic. You try to turn to get a glimpse of him, but his grip on your hair remains tight. But even if you can’t see him, you can hear him, his grunts and the low string of incoherent swears pouring out of his mouth. The sound of him getting lost in you is enough, and your own moans start building and mixing with his, an utter symphony of epicurism.

His hips give a few more broken thrusts and you can feel his climax, setting off yours. The throbs of his cock match those wracking your cunt, and you hold onto the edge of the desk as the waves wash over you. Once they’ve come to an end he pulls out, and you can feel his semen dripping out of the sudden emptiness and running down your leg. You quietly say a thankful prayer for your IUD.

You’re both panting as he collapses onto your back, planting a half-hearted kiss on your spine. You weakly push yourself up off the desk and see the devastation of papers, smears and fluids. You turn yourself around and relish in his appearance. Your blood is splattered on his fine cream sweater, his usually perfectly coiffed curls damp and sticking to his forehead. You reach up and wipe the remainder of your blood off his chin. He smirks and kisses you, significantly more gently this time.

“That was good,” you murmur through steadying breaths, “but next time, keep the fucking glasses on.”

[tanoraqui]

Trick or treat!

obviously all disabilities are totally underrepresented in mainstream and non-mainstream fiction, but I’ve been thinking recently that one I’d really like to see, which you could easily write in offhandedly or as a compelling character-building plot point, and have no trouble casting for in live action, is simply: anything that requires continuous, consistently timed medication.

According to CDC surveys circa 2017-19, roughly 1 out of every 7 women in the USA use birth control pills, which usually need to be taken at a very regular daily time in a very regular monthly pattern.

According to my personal experience, it’s extremely possible to live a basically normal life with low but functional vision and also half a dozen other petty ongoing problems, while also having every single day of your life—and, god knows, any travel you want to do—organized around the fact that you need to take multiple eye drops roughly every 12 hours, one of which needs to stay refrigerated at all times.

If you need regular medication, a portal fantasy adventure presents a real problem. An unexpected urban fantasy adventure that prevents you from going home for more than a day is a problem. Excuse me, aliens who have abducted me? If I list the drugs I regularly take, and tell you very roughly what each does, can you synthesize them perfectly? No, I don’t know any of the active ingredients, sorry. Hell, as a romance novel protagonist, an impulsive overnight stay with a hot stranger I met at a bar isn’t an option!

I think this would be a fun challenge for writers to work around while constructing plots, a good source of characterization as they examine how scrupulous a character is about their schedule (or how anxious once off-schedule), and, seriously, so easy to slide into the background if not a focus of the story. Do you know how often I wander into my kitchen half-asleep and take an eye drop? Roughly twice a day! The sitcom au of my life would just have this as background in a wide variety of scenes! AND it’s not something you need to do a lot of research in order to depict—just note “character must take macguffinex every 6-18 hours or they’ll start to get worried about the long-term health of their [insert organ here]” and use that as a background parameter for your story.

[moaan]

Cape Notoro by Katsuaki Shoda Via Flickr: Ricoh GXR + GXR MOUNT A12 + Super Angulon 21mm f/3.4

[kaelula-sungwis]

Sand dunes in the Sahara desert, Tassili N'Ajjer National Park, Tadrart Rouge, Algeria by Eric Lafforgue Via Flickr: © Eric Lafforgue www.ericlafforgue.com

[chourzahi]

Jijel, Algeria

Randonnée le long du ruisseau de montagne

[hyperdramas]

this man | yoon jeonghan

pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader

warnings: non-idol au, horror au, mystery, hints of slowburn??, deity!jeonghan (consider this lyr's late late LATE halloween special), even if jeonghan is an evil deity he is still a jokester, mentions of nightmares & horror-related things, based off of the 'this man' album and some analog horror elements, jeonghan's kinda awful in this, reader does not give two craps about jeonghan trying to drive her crazy, silly arguments ensue

now playing: this man, jxw & solitariat, oliver buckland

word count: a little over 1k (thank you @slytherinshua)

Jeonghan couldn't understand why he couldn't get into your head.

That's what he did best—he picked an innocent human, tainted by struggle, hurt, and the ways of everyday life, laying them down to sleep before he ruined their life in the most fun way he possibly could. Yes, it was evil, and yes, it was awful to the unsuspecting person he would choose, but what was Jeonghan supposed to do about it?

Beggars can't be choosers, can they?

It irked him though: you were unaffected by everything he did. Even when he caught you in a vulnerable position, sleeping soundly in your bed late at night, he couldn't seem to break through. There was a little something there—something in your mind that kept you safe and sound.

Jeonghan wanted to break it. He wanted to break you.

He sat quietly in the corner of your room, glaring over at the lamp in currently still on the highest setting. Jeonghan wasn't a big fan of light, as he was used to being in the dark (that's where all the good stuff happened), but if he had to blend in, the light wouldn't hurt him that badly.

He didn't have to blend in though, and therefore it hurt him.

Your dream played out as a movie in front of Jeonghan—he could see it all, from the parts that made little to no sense to the scenes that had real-life connections to your day, which amused Jeonghan. You had a mix of both realistic and nonsensical dreams, which gave him the perfect opportunity to slip in when the line became blurry.

There it was—the same scene he always got so close to getting into: you were sitting on a dusty old couch in a dingy room, television too bright as a man sat across from you.

The man had a crooked smirk on his face, and he offered you something every time, to which you would always say no—also making Jeonghan lose his chance to slip in and get you at your weakest point.

He looked eerily similar to Jeonghan too, with the same teasing gaze and sharp, delicate features that Jeonghan had familiarized himself with many times before.

The man said his repeated line, and you looked at him with your sparkling eyes, listening to his every word. Jeonghan stood over you now, ready to touch his cold fingertips to your cheek and take you away to his dimension. He smirked at your resting figure, taking joy in the fact you wouldn't know what had hit you.

And then, you said no, and woke up suddenly—shattering Jeonghan's plan altogether.

You weren't supposed to see him; no one was ever supposed to see the man—This Man—with their own eyes. It was an urban legend, one that Jeonghan got pleasure from seeing humans believe and converse over.

And now, that was all ruined because you woke up without giving Jeonghan a warning sign like a polite victim would.

"What are you doing in my house?" You asked—your voice was raised, and your hair was standing up on your arms, but you couldn't seem to feel fear in that moment. You were too in shock to scream or cry, and Jeonghan could feel your heart slowing down in your chest as you sat up under your sheets.

"Well, I was going to put you into a deep and ruin your life with a tap of my fingers, but you put an end to that so—congratulations," Jeonghan said sarcastically, stepping away from the side of your bed as his heels hit the floor.

You observed him as he sauntered back to your desk chair, sinking into its embrace with an air of relaxed confidence. He leaned back, the chair creaking softly under his weight, while his leg swung rhythmically, a casual pendulum of energy. His soft, black hair cascaded around his shoulders, creating a dark halo that framed his striking features, drawing attention to his sharp, intense eyes that seemed to hold a world of emotions. Jeonghan's skin, a ghostly pale, shimmered like porcelain, exuding an almost ethereal beauty that made him seem both fragile and alluring—like a delicate doll waiting to be admired and touched.

He was strikingly beautiful, resembling a premonition that filled you with more excitement than fear.

"Instead of gaping at me like you've seen a ghost, you could say sorry," Jeonghan replies simply, shocking you out of your stupor as you scoff just seconds later.

"Say sorry? You're a man who's in my bedroom at midnight standing over me and watching me sleep—why would I be the one to apologize here?" You ask with an accusatory tone, and Jeonghan laughs, voice melodic and teasing as he leans forward in his chair, eyeing you down.

"Oh, I think I'm going to like you." Jeonghan smiles, teeth blindingly white as you pull your blankets over you, suddenly feeling exposed.

"You're..." You trail off, and Jeonghan nods, face proud as if he's read your mind and is more than happy to make himself known to you.

"Yes, I'm the Man they keep talking about. You can admire me, I don't mind it." Jeonghan's voice is lifted as he looks up at you through his long eyelashes, and you slowly get out of bed, still wary of what you're seeing as Jeonghan sighs.

"There's no need to be all suspicious of me—I am who I say I am," Jeonghan states, and he smiles at you, taking note of your wide eyes.

"Why are you here? At my house?" You ask another question, and Jeonghan sighs as if he's answering a question you've asked him for the umpteenth time.

"I wanted to get you next. But obviously, you had different plans." Jeonghan scoffs, and you stare back at him, still confused. "Get me?"

"I was going to go into your head while you sleep, interfere in your dream in some way, and then ruin your life and or drive you insane." Jeonghan giggles lightheartedly, standing up from his chair as he walks towards you. His strides are long and relaxed, heels resounding through your room as his eyes land on you.

"You're too strong though. I can't get in." Jeonghan's voice drops down to a bone-chilling whisper, and you flush, averting your eyes as he pulls away.

"You intrigue me, and I plan to learn about you more and more as time goes on. I want what you have." Jeonghan's eyes burn through your skin, but you suddenly don't mind it.

Jeonghan—The Man—intrigues you too, and you plan to know more about him as well.

for @kstrucknet | feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

[allieebobo]

Monsoon Games: Roadmap

I'll continue to tweak this rough roadmap according to the responses I get from the google form, but here's the plan (ideal-case) for the next 1-2 years!

If you haven't filled out the form yet, please do, as answers would be super valuable in helping me better gauge, prioritize, and budget my next steps as well as tweak the pricing for the tiers!

Phase 1: Now till end-2025

Full-time urban planner

Part-time game dev.

Likely to be mostly solo-work and choice-script based

Phase 2: Beginning 2026 till end 2026

Part/Full-time game dev

Likely to involve / bring in an artist/coder, depending on eventual decision on game format (ren'py, Godot or choicescript)

Phase 3: Beginning 2027

Launch phase 2 game

Re-evaluate what to do next, likely back to my full-time job, but to KIV this based on what happens in Phase 2

Details below the cut!

Again, if you have comments, suggestions, preferences, do leave a message or email (allieebobo@gmail.com). If you're interested to collaborate, or to find out about what games I'm thinking of, click here.

Phase 1a

Timeframe: now till end 2025

Scope: Keep rolling out choicescript updates for CT:OS and Merry Crisis. This will form the base of content for ko-fi/patreon (with subscribers continuing to get early-releases until these games are complete).

Phase 1b 

Timeframe: start sometime 2nd half of 2025, run concurrently till end 2025)

Scope: Write a choicescript 'concept demo' for 2 new games I've been haunted by over the past couple of years. (I'll release more info on this if I think they're viable). Whether or not they become more complex games, I'll at least have the choicescript demo. 

Phase 1c 

Timeframe: optional, but to start as soon as funding is obtained

Scope: Depending on interest, I want to consider doing a port to ren'py for Merry Crisis (or CT:OS, but likely MC) for a more visual-style game. This would involve either hiring a coder to help with the port, or doing it myself. More importantly, will need to commission art for this.

_____

Monthly-subscriptions for both Phase 1a and 1b would include the following tiers: 

$3/month (existing): Just to support me :) 

$6/month (existing): Early-access links to CT:OS and Merry Crisis

$9/month (new tier): Same as above + Early-content (e.g. lore, character snippets & art, non-interactive stories, dev logs) for new game(s)

$12/month (might not go for this tier, but including just as a concept): Same as above + Expanded early-content (e.g. interactive choice-script based demo access)

Phase 2a

Timeframe: Beginning 2026, probably 6-9 months or more depending on scope

Scope: With CT:OS and Merry Crisis completed, I hope to then turn my sights to converting the choicescript demo created in phase 1b into actual complete games. This could either take the form of: 

A full choicescript game

A full ren'py (visual) game

A full Godot (2D) game

About 2-3 months into Phase 2a, I will also have enough content to launch a kickstarter, which would hopefully bring new backers on board and funds to speed-up production of the game(s). For folks who prefer supporting once-off instead, they'll also come in at this stage :) 

Phase 2b: 

Timeframe: Probably 6-9 months into 2026

Scope: Once there's a playable beta version of the game, I'll then do testing with subscribers and other beta-testers, and do de-bugging.

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Monthly-subscriptions for both Phase 2a and 2b would include the following tiers: 

$4/month: Just to support me :) 

$8/month: Subscriber-only content for all new games in development (e.g. character snippets & art, dev logs)

$12/month: Same as above + Little interactive patches/expansion packs for CT:OS and Merry Crisis 

$16/month: Same as above + Expanded early-content for all new games (e.g. non-interactive stories, scene peaks/teasers, interactive twine or choicescript based playable content, access to beta version of the game when ready in phase 2b)

Kickstarter tiers: 

$12 once-off for a specific project (a selection of content from the pool of characer snippets & art, dev-logs that $8/month subscribers get) 

$25 once-off for a specific project (same as above + a selection of content from the pool of expanded early-content) 

$35 once-off for a specific project (same as above + special perks e.g. ability to design a character or item or request chapter) 

Phase 3

Timeframe: Start of 2027 onwards 

Scope: When at least 1 game is launched, hopefully by start of 2027, I'll re-evaluate and see what to set my sights on next! This probably also means going back to full-time urban planning :)

[markrosewater]

Speaking of urban fantasy, I'd love to see Magic's take on a "masquerade" type world-- where it seems like a non-magical society on the surface, but there are hidden wizard battles going on behind the scenes.

We have an idea that’s similar on the short list.