#Renni Browne

[mandyraine]

Book review: Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Browne and Dave King

Hey, #authors! What's your all-time favorite writing manual? #writingmanual #writer

Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Browne and Dave King is one of my favorite writing manuals that I often recommend to writers during the revise and refine stage of the novel writing process. It is a popular guide among authors that focuses on practical techniques to improve the quality of a manuscript during the revision process. In Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, the authors teach…

[alice-wonderland]

Dressing up when you're sad counts as a coping mechanism, right?

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have The Day the Earth Stood Still 1951

[themnmovieman]

Movie Review ~ The Strangers: Chapter 1

While initially promising, The Strangers: Chapter 1 quickly loses its grip, leaving the audience disinterested.

The Strangers: Chapter 1 Synopsis: After their car breaks down in an eerie small town, a young couple is forced to spend the night in a remote cabin. Panic ensues as they are terrorized by three masked strangers who strike with no mercy and seemingly no motive. Stars: Madelaine Petsch, Froy Gutierrez, Ryan Brown, Ema Horvath, Ben Cartwright, Richad Brake, Janis Ahern, Stevee Davies, Rafaella…

[abs0luteb4stard]

W A ♱ C H ⸸ N G

This was a rewritten and refilmed version because the studio didn't like the yet unreleased "dominion cut" but this one became a box office bomb and "Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist" was resurrected the following year, 2005.

I don't see why this version was treated so badly. I got 3/4 of the way through it and thought, 'What's all the negativity about?'. I enjoyed it. 🤷🏻‍♂️

Plus Stellan Skarsgard could make anything good. So...🤷🏻‍♂️

[dabisbratz]

𝒫𝒪𝑅𝒞𝐸𝐿𝒜𝐼𝒩 ; eren jeager x male reader

w.c: 2.3k

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒮: miscommunications, eren’s short temper, dumbification, asphyxiation two (2) uses of the f-slur (nonsexual), dirty-talk, exhibitionism + vouyerism, public masterbation, orgasm denial, spittin, one (1) use of the word ‘boypussy’, mean rennie

sonny says . . . rare short sonny post in da wild!?!? was missin nerd rennie n his jock boyfie ૮꒰ ྀི๑⃙⃘´༥`๑⃙⃘ ྀི ꒱ა thinkin about how long it takes for you t’realize y’like -like him . . .

Eren is. . . Weird.

That’s not an unknown fact, nor is it an uncommon conclusion. If anything, it’s a given. He smells strange, but not unpleasant, his voice goes nasally when he’s not making an effort to smoothen it out, his glasses are always smudged with fingerprints and a thin, barely noticeable layer of grease. He snorts when he laughs, too, in some sort of stereotypical way, and it’s almost endearing, but. . . That’s not why he’s weird.

It’s not his physical traits, no. Not the two moles decorating his neck, or the constant pink flush to his cheeks. Not his warm, brown hair that frames his soft cheeks. It’s not the acne at his forehead— you can tell he’s spent countless nights scrubbing away at it, picking apart his appearance— or the pudge to his body. Found on his cheeks, his arms, his stomach, his thighs— no, it absolutely isn’t anything physical.

Even as you look at him, your eyes trained on the movement of his pen as he writes something down— you’re not even sure what subject you’re supposed to be working on, anymore— you can’t place it. Ink travels along the sheet of paper, bleeding into it as his letters loop and his vowels curl. His lips are chapped, dusted a pretty shade of pink as his tongue swipes over the surface of his pillowy lips, they part as if to speak, and—

“What?” He asks, his voice only ever sounding soft now, for the first time since you’ve met him. He peers at you over the rim of his large, round glasses, his hazel eyes brightening beneath the fluorescent study-hall lights. Eren squints, like the opacity pains him, but his gaze never falters in kindliness. He’s. . . pretty.

Its certainly not the first time you’ve had that thought— he’s fucked you sideways, backwards, and maybe even upside down, so the thought crossed your mind amongst countless other opportunities, but this is different. It’s mundane. It’s. . . casual. Natural, like something fundamentally correct.

In a way that makes your heart want to wring itself dry.

Eren breathes through parted lips, a habit he’s working on, thick eyebrows furrowed as his gaze trickles toward your empty notebook. “What?” He repeats, this time much more nasally. The growing irritability in his voice proves palpable— but it’s not Eren if he’s not easily riled up. Still, his voice is like molasses, you want to cuddle up beneath it and taste it on your tongue. The sweetness, the bitterness. To feel it spread across your tastebuds, thick and syrupy. He’s just so.. handsome.

“What?” You clear your throat, it’s suddenly scratchy, all the words you want to say stuck in your esophagus as you cough into your elbow. They’re not thoughts you’re used to having— you’ve only ever had girlfriends.. You’re used to floral patterns and sweet scents. . . the stereotypical bubblegum pink and hair ties. The hands you’ve held have almost always been smaller than your own, softer, dantier…

“You’re.. You know, staring at me?” Polar opposite of the former, Eren’s hand swats the air as if gesturing to the general area. You instinctively want to roll your eyes, bratty in nature, just to earn the soft click of Eren’s tongue. Fuck.

“How did you know you were… you know.” Rushed, slipping over your own tongue, your teeth feel like jelly, softening in your own mouth. You suddenly feel small, backed up against a corner and trembling like a deer. Bambi’s got nothing on you, incomparable, you think, a cold tremor cascading past your ribs and down your spine. You’re not supposed to be the one feeling this way.

“You know?” He echoes. Pink, plush lips parting and curling around every letter, your heart flutters with warmth as they curl into scowl. You hate to admit it, but it’s your favorite expression from Eren. He’s always looked a bit boyish— like he carries some sort of sheepishness in him, even with his beginnings of facial hair, but there’s something more established about him when his eyes steel over and his lips press together. “What, gay?”

Lilliputian is the minute that goes by, and yet, it lasts forever. “Yeah,” A long beat of silence as your shoulders tense up to your ears, each flutter of your eyelash against your cheek, each intake of air through your nose.. “That.” Excruciatingly slow, almost.

He notes the way you say it. You know it, you can see the cogs of recognition twisting and turning in his head, you loathe it. You want to hold onto the softness of his face, rub patterns into his cheek and pull him forward, whimpering a soft, saccharine ‘Rennie’ in his ear and watch him crumble. Your fingers twitch, fumbling over themselves at the thought, and before you can lift your hand (just to snatch it away), Eren’s lips part once more.

“You mean a faggot,” He sneers, his pen completely discarded, rolling past the flat surface of the wooden table. Radiating from his skin is the warmth of new tension, he vibrates in his seat as if ready to lash out. . . Not at you, never at you. “That’s what you want to say, right?”

“Eren,” Mumbling, barely making it past your lips, you murmur through your teeth. You distract yourself with your hands, two fingers holding onto one as they twiddle and turn around themselves. Eren’s gaze trails downward, a long, prominent scowl on his lips as he leans back into his seat, thighs spread wide over the stretch of the desk chair. His head tilts back, chocolate brown hair brushing against his jaw as he stares at you through the bridge of his nose. His frame isn’t big, and yet, he looks so.. powerful.

“I didn’t— don’t mean it like that.”

“What the fuck else could you mean, then?” He growls, a mean lilt in his voice that nearly has you shrinking back. A warning, not a threat, as the chair creaks beneath his weight, his hands clasping together as he shifts to lean forward instead. Looking you dead on, even as you avert your gaze. A click of his tongue, you listen to his skin brush against his palms as he raises a hand to snap his fingers. Once, twice, thrice.. And suddenly your attention is back on him. “Only fags take it up the ass like you do, anyway.”

“Eren,” You breathe, a soft melody of a voice, eyebrows pinched as you silently plead. Not even entirely sure what you’re pleading for, it’s just that his tone of voice makes you want to repent. Warmth prickles in your skin, and some sick, divine intervention tunes in to remind you that you’ve never felt more empty without Eren inside you. “Come on, man. I didn’t mean it like that, I just..”

His pretty face twists as though he’d eaten something sour. ‘Man’ — you call him, not something more savory. Baby, sweetheart, sugar, sir, Rennie. . . The options are there, and he’s watching you wade through them. You know Eren likes you. He knows you do, in some unexplainable way— he just needs to hear it.

“Is that what I am to you, too?” He grunts, stubborn. He knows the answer, eyes softening as he watches a frown tug at the corners of your kissable lips.

“Rennie,” You coo, as if you’ve read his mind, and he’s never seen your face so… conflicted. “M’sorry.” It cracks his hardened exterior, anger and tension dissipating into the air as he lets out a groan of a breath.

You’ve never seen Eren angry. Maybe in a different context, toward something else, with the exception of the time he’d discovered football meant you were flexible and he hadn’t put it to use yet. But. . . only sexually charged. You’d imagine it starts slow, a slight simmer building in his veins, gathering in his fingers as he clenches his hands into fists. Then fast, and sudden, crystalline rolling down his cheeks in a thick flow of rivers before your very eyes. He probably cries when he’s genuinely angry, you conclude, watching his chest heave and tense as he steadies his raging breaths.

A new sense of shame raises the hairs on your neck— should you comfort him, or give him privacy? It's all so much, you’re left stunned as he stands, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor as he all but stomps over to grab your chin. Your hand instinctively reaches to cup his own, instead, being met with a firm, but painless, tap to your cheek that makes you straighten up, hands falling back to your lap.

“You’re so. . .” Voice rough and thick, Eren’s gaze follows the shape of your lips as he trails off. Past your cupid's bow, is the curve, following where they meet in a shaky line. You’re pulled into a kiss, his pink lips chapped and bitten, you taste a thin layer of blood and iron on his tongue. His hand moves from your chin to your throat, fingers tracing the skin until his palm presses below your adam’s apple, leaving you gasping as he steals every breath from your parted lips. “. . Dumb boys like you never know what they’re fuckin’ talking about half the time anyway.”

The dig doesn’t hurt, your brain barely catches it, with the lack of oxygen and the pout on your lips, all you can chase after is the urge to kiss him again. Again, again, again. You hear him suck his teeth, but it’s hazy when he speaks once more. “Oh, you liked that?”

“Rennie, I wan’ it—“ Leaves your lips, high and whiney, forlorn to even your own ears, a dull throb between your thighs. It’s so good, you didn’t get hard as quick before meeting Eren, but with his hand wrapped around your throat, you can already feel the ache in your balls, the twitch of your shaft, the milky, sticky precum spilling into your boxers. The brunette scoffs, and that only makes it worse.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, mostly to himself, an almost incredulous lilt to his voice as he straightens up, palming at the clear bulge imprinted in his stained sweatpants. “Since you want it so bad, touch it.”

With a breathy moan, your hands reach to grasp at the thick outline of Eren’s cock straining against his pants, pressing your palm against the warmth of his shaft. You feel it twitch and throb beneath your fingers, jumping in your hand as Eren sucks in a sharp breath. You missed this. He huffs above you, face flushed and glasses askew, but his gaze doesn’t leave your face once— glued to the way your lips part, how you mouth against the cotton of his sweats and leave behind a sloppy stain of drool. How you kiss the head, burying your face deeper and deeper into the fabric, breathing in the musk of his cock.

“M’sorry,” You breathe, handsome face squished against his thigh, and Eren can’t seem to stop himself from grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling you off his cock with a resigned grunt.

“I knew I was gay,” Eren rasps, his other hand pulling at the elastic band of his sweatpants, diving past his boxers (with suspicious stains, might you add), and straight to gripping his cock, dribbling salty, sticky precum along his knuckles. “When I’d come home from school,” He sighs, eyes fluttering shut with a shaky gasp. “And watch porn, but—” You barely miss it, stuck in his hold as he keeps you still, the weight of his cock slapping against your cheek— and god, that’s all you’ve ever wanted. “I only focused on the men. Especially when they sounded like girls, whining and crying…”

It’s hard to listen to him ramble, when what you want is right in front of you. Your hips rock, pressing your needy cock just barely against the denim of your jeans— it’s not enough, you need more, you want to feel it, you want to take it— “Kinda like you,” He grunts out, nearly crumbling above you, your pretty lips ghosting over his cock as his fist grips the dip of his balls. Blinking up at him, your eyes remain glued to the veins littering his hand as he fucks his fist, nearly losing your composure. “How they gasp after bottoming out,” Lifting your hips up, brushing your clenched fists against your thighs, your eyes flutter shut as he moans, maneuvering your face into different angles— however he pleases. “When they accidentally shoot a load on their own face. Ha, kinda like you.”

You hiccup on your own desperate, breathy sobs, choking on your gasps— in and out, in and out, Eren’s cock squelches as he fucks his fist, gathering pre and smearing it against your cheek.

“And they always take it so good. Pretty, slutty little holes made for taking dick,” He strokes loud plaps of wetness out of the head, finally, finally, pressing it against the plush of your lips. Glazed over and sticky, a thin, sheen layer of pre paints your lips like the prettiest gloss, and your lips part, carrying a thin trail of saliva between them. “They look so stupid, too. Best part was—” Mumbling under his breath, the brunette gathers spit on his tongue. He's salty and bitter, spreading along your mouth, and you can't help but drool. His thighs tense, muscles flexing and rippling as his twitching hand finds the back of your head, and— oh. “I’d make sure they looked like you.”

He’s spitting in your mouth. “You should’ve known when I had your ankles above your head and fucked a load into that boypussy of yours.”

You’re close, you can feel it, a tingling warmth in your spine and your balls, your abdomen tightening and hands reaching down to rub it out, but— Eren swats your hand away, a scowl on his lips.

Repent, repent, repent.

[st4rbwrry]

   𝐹𝐸𝐸𝐿 𝒮𝒪𝑀𝐸𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒢.

꒰ eren’s really sore from football practice and you give bby a massage. ꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 3.1k, fem!reader, lowercase intended, body betrayal, submissive eren + whimpers a lot, established consent aka cnc, dry humping, pain kink, eren’s pathetic fr, oral ꒰ m + f ꒱, handjob, love bites, choking, ‘daddy’ said once, creampie, rennie’s embarrassed :( , minors aren’t welcomed! comments + reblogs are appreciated!

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . listened to the nastiest, filthiest sub va audio and babyyyyy, woooo! never been so turned on in my life.

“ughhhhhhh!”

you can hear the painful groans a mile away erupting from the bathroom, eyes peaked over your glasses after you spun around to investigate the suspicious sound. you’re perched up into your soft pink swivel chair where you sat cross legged and comfortably zoned out into an intense mission of call of duty, trying your best not to drool over ghost and konig. the curved monitor in front of your face brightly lit, feminine colors fading in and out from the lights planted around your pc set up. kawaii kitten headphones covering your ears muffling your surroundings.

knocking them off of your ears, you’re able to hear the shower running loudly, the noise cancellation blocking out any movement around you. there’s only one person who could be in your shower right now, and he revealed himself before you could come to the thought. steam flows towards the ceiling as the bathroom door swings ajar, your boyfriend’s sandalwood soap illuminating the room while steam levitates off of his tanned, tatted skin. a pout seeps into your expression when you see the softness in his face, every step he takes towards your bed shoots excruciating discomfort through his muscles.

“baby!” you stand to your feet, the warmth in your chest to see his presence heightening, but the worry in your eyes overtaking all. “what’s wrong, ‘ren?”

“mhmmmm,” he only groans, a towel around his neck and his skin only covered by basketball shorts as he flops face forward onto your bed, hissing from the aches and spasms. accidentally shoving your plushies out of his face and onto the floor from clear irritation.

sometimes forgetting he had a key to your apartment, you’re reminded of him telling you he was coming to see you after practice, overworking himself to the brink of death these past few weeks considering draft season was up and coming. eren needed to make a good impression, and him being an overachiever, it caused his body to slowly deteriorate. waking up at the break of dawn to gulp down green juices and muscle powder before he’s running around his neighborhood for two hours. then he’s going to the field after classes for extreme training with coaches who considered him a son. people who are in his ear constantly worshiping his achievements, including his family — pressuring him to be great. to be something.

the air in the room is cold, and it’s a serenade to his body, like icy hot. he releases a heavy sigh from his pillowed lips as he rests on his stomach in agony.

“i’m so sore, baby!” eren practically whines, the muscles on his toned back shifting as he reaches for a pillow to elevate his head. any small movement is like absolute hell. “fuck, i fucked up.”

“awee, ‘ren. i told you that you needed to slow down.”

sitting beside him on the bed, your knees sink into the memory foam, looming over his figure, putting on your motherly face. relaxing your shoulders, you bury your hands between your thighs, observing him to see what he needed.

“you’ll be limping to the ceremony if you keep this up. there’s only one more game, love.”

“yeah, and it has to count. they’ll be looking at my highlights and shit, and i need to be in their top list,” eren turns his face to look in your direction, his brown hair tied into the back of his head, slightly damp. “once i’m drafted i’ll take a break.”

“okay,” you leave it at that, knowing he’ll pursue a whole rant if you pressed any harder. it kills you to see him hurt, but you know in the end it’ll pay off. you didn’t have faith in him for nothing. “want me to massage you?”

“ooh, yea baby, please,” eren wants to clap to show his appreciation, but can barely move his upper body. he’s clutching a pillow tight to his cheek, lashes kissing his cheekbones with his pretty verdurous irises shield behind lids. lips upturned and his bushy eyebrows furrowed when your hands apply pressure to the back of his calves, kneading the skin with your thumbs gently. “thank you.”

a soft smile tugs on your full lips, glasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you focus on making him feel better. “you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“coach had me doing fucking agility courses today, it feels like my entire body is boiling with lava.”

“how’d you even make it up the stairs?”

the warmth of your palms soothed his body, aside from the horrible pain running through him from every touch, you made it a little better. eren whimpers softly the higher your hands go, reaching his lower back now, leaning over him some more to reach his tough spots. he nearly forgets to answer, his knuckles turning white and the veins on his hands leading up to his forearm protrude the harder he grips onto the pillow before him.

“nng, fuck,” he gasps out, muffling his sounds slightly by the cotton stuffed fabric, shifting his hips the deeper the pads of your thumbs sink into his hips, dainty fingers feathering along his skin, blood unbeknownst to you, rushing to his dick. those happened to be his sweet spots. “higher baby, please.”

he says it mostly out of panic, and you oblige, smoothing your hands flat on his back to rub there, beauty marks littered on the canvas. “you didn’t answer me.”

“sorry,” he groans when your hands come to his shoulders, applying pressure with the carpal bone of your hand, dragging straight down to his forearms with your stomach laying on his back. smelling your aroma and feeling the softness of your inner thighs. he blushes, hating his body for reacting the way it is currently. “i-i climbed up the stairs. was hunched over the entire walk to the door.”

“flip over for me.”

“shit. m’so weak right now,” eren mumbles frustratingly, trying his very best to turn his full frame, reaching out for your hand to help. you interlink your arms with his, as if giving him a hug, chest on his to flip him onto his back and position him comfortably. it felt like you were his damn caretaker.

“your knees hurt, baby? have you been wearing your knee pads?”

“mhm hmm, yea. i try to stretch a little before i run in the mornings. sometimes i . . . forget,” the salvia in his mouth glides down his throat as he swallows, seeing your spine arched and the darkly inked butterfly tattoo on your lower back as you focus on rubbing on his knees, and up his quadriceps. “unh, shit.”

“right there?” your tone is soft when you speak, doe eyes attentive when you look up at him and it makes his dick grow semi-hard.

“yes, it’s good, mama.” goddamit. he isn’t trying to sound like it’s obvious he’s turned on right now. he’s literally in too much pain to do anything to you, at least the way he wants.

you hike his shorts up for further access, massaging into the tissue to alleviate the discomfort, eren’s head knocking back as he hisses and grips onto the sheets. you watch him deliriously, trying to ignore the throb of your clit from the visual before you. but he’s making it impossible from the noises he makes. it’s not new, you’ve heard him whimper and moan before when he’s fucking you, but it’s rare when it sounds this . . pathetic. his pain shouldn’t arouse you, but it does.

your face is dangerously close to his dick, your black prescription glasses slipping even further as you try to block out the sounds he’s making by working your hands into his frail muscles. you make it back to his hips which stutter from your delicate touch, trying to hide your smirk when he whines helplessly. he’s breathing heavily, biting down on his lip as he covers his eyes with his right forearm, trying to hide his embarrassment. you’re pawing at his chest now, throwing your leg over his waist and sitting on his abdomen, feeling his dick on your ass cheek.

“fuck, what are you doing?” eren stares at you immediately, brows furrowed as you knead at his biceps, smoothing your hands up to his wrists you grip and eventually pin down to the bed above his head.

“making you feel better,” you pout, lifting your lower body to scoot your ass back and foment your pussy onto him, the subtle gasp leaving his mouth like a symphony. “you’re hard.”

“wait, baby,” eren whines again, struggling to fight the entrapment that you have on his wrists, too weak and sensitive to fight you on it. “i can’t right now. i’m too sore.”

“just lay there,” you tell him, gyrating your hips and rubbing yourself over the fabric of his shorts, barricaded by your silk black ones. his eyes glower at you, mouth going ajar and out comes another desperate whimper. “i need it. you sound too pretty.”

“baby, please. this is so embarrassing,” he goes to shimmy free, but whines from any sharp pain hitting him, entwining your fingers to hold hands as you arch over him, leaving a delicate kiss to his lips.

“you don’t want me?” you ask, batting your lashes as you roll your hips a little faster, humping your clit onto the swell of his dick. you moan, burying your face within the crook of his neck to slick your tongue over his flesh, the slow dragging making his dick pulsate.

“i-it’s not that, god,” he’s heaving now, afraid he’s going to break under you. physically, not possible. but mentally? yeah. he’s not usually the submissive one, so this was a bit out of character. “stop grinding your . . pussy on me.”

now his voice is really breaking, his moans growing high pitched and his whines dragged out and subby. you felt a high you never felt before, being the one to dominate is a rarity. it was a small conversation the two of you had briefly, but never did you think he’d actually let you pursue it. taking the lead felt too good.

“but i w’na grind my pussy on you,” you’re moaning in his ear now, eren’s turning his head to the opposite side to let you sink your teeth into his neck, leaving love bites while he groans. he couldn’t keep his composure with you. “you need to be in pain more. you sound too good. i’m so horny now.”

“you have issues,” he shakes his head, gasping when you nip at his adams apple before kissing it. licking your lips and humming, beginning to hear the squelch of your pussy in the silent room.

“you gave them to me.”

eren doesn’t even realize that his arms are free now, laying limp beside his head as he watches you crawl down his thighs to pull his dick free from his shorts, wrapping your hand around his dick that practically stretches over the shape of your face. it’s leaking precum, and you waste not a drop of it, slapping the head of his dick on your tongue. his fingers are grasping the sheets again, stationed beside his waist and watching you swallow half of him into your mouth.

“baby — damn,” his stomach caves in when he hits the back of your throat, esophagus forcing itself to laminate his dick with more saliva. he’s completely devoted to you, staying still and letting you work. if he had the strength he’d lift his hips and fuck your throat till you’re gagging. “shit. shit, i love being in your mouth.”

you moan around him, twisting your wrist at the base while sucking on what you could, his dick fat and blowing up your cheeks. his eyes fall shut to listen to how you take him, pink lips parting with his eyes drooped in pleasure. you get him wet enough for extra lubricant, popping your mouth free and removing your shorts. he licks his lips at your glistening entrance, your white toes touching his leg as you spread your legs next him to finger yourself open. pretty hair cascading over your features in dark curls, slurping up saliva in your mouth as you stare darkly at him while you grind sensually onto your two fingers.

“c’mon, baby. don’t be mean,” eren groans, hand reaching for your ankle to use whatever strength he gained to drag you closer. “lemme see. c’mere.”

whimpering yourself, you scoot closer to his face, gripping at the edge of the bed as he clutches your ankle, the good bracelet with his initial on it swinging. everything else in his body hurt, even his dick ached now and it was your fault for being so fucking sexy. one thing he could use to his full ability was his mouth, and as soon as your folds are spread wider by your fingers, that’s when he’s kissing at your clit. puckered lips sucking and pulling at her with fervor, jaw widening and clenching as his tongue dips into your hole and he begins bobbing his head, the lewd, downright filthy sounds of your pussy creaming on his tongue.

“ooh, eren,” a squeak lets out, your eyes almost falling shut and drowning your vision. the moans from the both of you are guttural, flowing in sync nearly. he’s sucking on your clit like it’s a pacifier, cocking his head back to spit on her before grunting and flicking vigorously. savoring your taste on his tongue.

your hand goes to wrap back around his dick, spitting in your hand after a prolonged moan and jerking him off, the wet sounds ricocheting off the walls.

“ahh, fuck. oh my . . god,” the moans only grow louder from you, face screwed up the faster his mouth moves. jaw shifting even quicker and you match his pace with your hand, making sure to stay near the tip to watch his hips twitch and hear him moan. “i’m g’na cum, ‘ren.”

“unt unt, sit on my dick, baby,” he immediately removes his mouth, licking his lips and laying on his back again. “you wanna tease me, so fuck me.”

your legs tremble as you crawl above him, knees indenting the bed on either side of his waist, looking behind yourself to hold his dick still and slowly slid yourself down. the stretch is always good, adjusting by now after extensive training, aka eren literally making you lay there and take it inch by inch until it fit and felt right. his dick fully sinks into you, your knees buckling instantly from the fullness, hoisting yourself up by clutching onto his legs behind you.

“f-fuck!” it vibrates through your body, that euphoric wave that he’s sucked into your own. sexual chemistry, soul tie if you will. your knees interfere, making your pussy squeeze tight and eren can do nothing but clasp onto his own angelic hair, his tatted forearm with a cuban link on his wrist killing your clit. hair long fallen out of it’s tie.

“she looks so pretty like this,” eren hums, sucking on his lip before spanking the outside of your thigh hard, trying to coax you into moving. “lemme see her suck me in and out.”

rolling your lips inward, you moan as you raise and drop your ass down, skin interacting loudly with his own. eren hisses with rouse, drinking in the view of your juices coating his cock, dripping in fact. the visual evidence of him splitting you open as you rock on him to fuck yourself makes his brain explode, unable to choke his moans down. tossing your head back, he studies the art of contour. your neck, chin, and nose. the curves, the area of fat on your tummy . . . you are beauty divine. and you’re so damn hot.

“you’re so damn hot,” it’s spoken the same way he thought it, perhaps with more vigor.

you feel yourself getting close, so you lean yourself forward and get ahold of his wrists again, that red tint coming back to his cheekbones. your body is flat to his, and you listen to your wet pussy glide up and down as you drop your ass back heavily, his strong thighs hitting it. you’re breathing into his mouth when he goes to kiss you, your pace getting harder and you hear him whimper again and again. the pain and pleasure mixing. that soreness in his body fucking with him, but serenading you.

“fuckin’ get it,” eren grunts in a hushed tone, his words persuading you to bounce harder, making it sloppy and incredulously loud. “get it, baby. make a mess. f-fuckk . . unh.”

“oh my god,” the noise you make is a mixture of disbelief and arousal, shaking above him while he throws his head back into the pillow exposing his gorgeous neck, silver chain sprawled intricately within the contours of his neckline. he’s driving you absolutely insane. “keep moaning like that, baby. it’s so good. i can’t.”

“you g’na fuck it till it hurt, too? you like hearing me in pain that bad?” he locks eyes with you again, body trembling with pathetic whines leaving his throat.

“y-yess, love it,” you admitted, swirling your ass and riding him faster, tears brimming your sockets. “you’re so pretty, daddy. you’re hitting my spot.”

he watches as you keep yourself where you want, his dick curved into that sweet part making your eyes gloss white, grinding harder while digging your nails into his wrist, mouth agape and precious broken moans escaping. that pressure in your tummy bursts, and you’re cumming while still fucking him, squealing and crying as you drench his pelvis. that sends eren to overdrive, muttering a stream of expletives before he’s nearing his orgasm not long after.

“ooh, shit. get up, get up. i’m finna cum.”

“n-no,” you add more of your strength to overpower him, keeping him flat to the bed as you lean up and roll your hips. he looks up at you with warning, your gushy walls sucking him in the more you clench and cum. batting your lashes as his hands wriggle in your grasp, upper body shifting from being overwhelmed with ecstasy. “fill me up.”

“awe, fuck me, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck!”

whimpers, shaky moans, and whines. they’re all playing a part in how he releases and makes you cum again as he’s cumming, screaming in the air as he fights through his aching body to spank your ass fervently. filling you up like you cried for. his noises are dry, like they’re fighting to get out. coming out in weak, fucked out, high pitched grumbles and keens. almost like he’s in goddamn heat. it’s all so hot. he hates his body for the ultimate betrayal of submission. but also, hates to admit he fucking loved it. excruciating pain aside.

“get off me,” eren heaves, swallowing from a dry mouth and his excessive moaning. “please, baby. i can’t take it. i’m sore. i’m asking nicely.”

smiling, you wrap your hand around his neck before sticking your tongue out to glide over his lips, tasting him and begging for entrance, giving him a nasty, overjoyed kiss.

“i’ll give you another massage, sexy.”

© 𝑠𝑡4𝑟𝑏𝑤𝑟𝑟𝑦 . all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life.♡

[merakidoll]

it’s daddy’s birthday i hope yall ain’t think i forgot! happy birthday to my papa 🎀

you and hennessy is all the birthday boy wanted for his big day. the club was an add on, his loved ones surrounding him with dimly lit neon lights that ran throughout the dark environment. while everyone was dancing, smoking, getting drunk. it was just you and eren in your own world. up at the top in the farthest vip section, wrapped in one another. his blunt in his hand, while the bottle was in yours, pussy wrapped around his thick cock that made you feel full but not in a way it was too much, just right.

“open” you commanded grabbing his chin and tilting his perfect face back. the brown liquid poured into his mouth with your spit that slowly dripped into his mouth. he moaned jerking inside of you, drinking in the mixture while staring directly at you. you couldn’t hold yourself back at that point low green eyes that captivated you. going straight to it you shoved your tongue into his mouth. you’re lips smacking together and moving together perfectly.

moans fall from you both, eren dropping the blunt just so he could slap your ass, slowly bucking into you. you could both here brent playing in the background. making the moment all come together. you beginning to bounce while moving back from the kiss to let our you sounds of pleasure for his ears only. and the birthday boy basked in it all. eyes closing at how you wrapped around him like the warmest, tightest blanket ever. pumping him dry to the point it messed up the vip’s couch. “j-just like that mama” he said slowly kissing your neck taking advantage at how you rested your head on his shoulders

your wetness splattered every time you reached his base, your moans progressively getting louder as well as eren’s. his head falling back, addams apple bobbing, all of his senses higher that he couldn’t be his usual dominant self. falling into your hands like the good boy he was and begging to let himself go. “p-please baby”

“p-please- l-lemme give you a’kid. f-fill that pussy u-upp.. FUCK” his words made you bounce harder. ass clapping and pussy gushing out the mix of pre cum and juices completely ruining the already ruined outfit. you felt bold enough to wrap your hand around his neck. it didn’t fully wrap around, but it did the job. his whisperd “shitttttuhhh” had your ears ringing, two powerful orgasms happening at once all in the hands of hennessy.

his warm gooye cum filled you to the brim. and you couldn’t deny the birthday boy of his wish, quickly standing in wobbly legs and pushing your thong back up so that next year it was you, him, and your kid. happy birthday rennie bear

[laniluvsuu]

Someone else.

Eren J. x Blackfemreader!

As always y’all I apologize for any mistakes! gimme some requests I have like no ideas

“I’ve been missin’ you mama. Imma be over there in a lil.” You heard Eren’s deep voice say from the ongoing call between the two of you.

“Yea Ren, I’ve missed you too.” You said back to him cringing behind the phone knowing the words that came out of your mouth weren’t the truth. Silently wishing the words had came from your ex Ony instead.

If you were being honest with yourself the only reason you started “talking” to Eren was to make time go by faster just until you and Ony made amends. You knew this wasn’t fair to Eren, how it wasn’t right to heal through him and at the same time still wait for Ony to come back to you.

You got taken out of your thoughts the second you heard knocking at your door. You opened your door to reveal Eren smiling down at you. You moved your body to the side to let him walk in.

“Hey pretty mama.” He rasped from behind you as you closed the door before turning around to make eye contact with him.

“Hey Ren.” You half smiled at him, enough of a smile to make him smile in return. You walked over to your couch to sit down as he took his shoes, and jacket off at your door. He had on grey sweats, a plain black tee shirt, which was decorated by the silver chain he wore.

“So, whatchu wanna do Rennie?” You asked him while watching him walk over to where you were sat on your couch. As he sat down you watched him manspread, moving his arms up to lay on the head of your couch, his left leg now touching your right leg as he got comfortable.

“Whatever you wanna do ma, we could roll up or sum. I ain’t have nun planned jus wanted t’see you.” He said turning his head to lay on his left arm to make eye contact with you. His green eyes looking into your brown eyes so passionately made you feel bad again.

“Or..you could tell me what’s on your mind.” Is what you heard before you could respond to what he had said before. “C’mere mama talk to me.” Eren mumbled loud enough for you to hear as he grabbed you gently to have you straddle his lap.

Looking down at you he watched how your two toned glossy lips turned into a pout before you got your words out. Eren knew exactly what was on your mind he just wanted to hear you say it.

“Idk Eren It’s just Ive been feeling guilty because I feel like I’m using you when I should really be focusing on myself.” You said looking up into his eyes confessing your feelings to him. All he did was smirk down at you before saying.

“I knew what I was getting into the first time we texted mama I’m not dumb. You’re not using me baby all you need right now is a little distraction right?” He said looking down at you, his inked hands moving to grip onto your ass in your tiny shorts. You nodded in response already feeling yourself get wet just by feeling him touch on you and the way he was he looking down at you with half lidded eyes. Long pieces of his dark brown hair falling out on his forehead as his body temperature got higher by the second.

“Mhm, then lemme be there for you baby.” He said slightly pushing his pelvis up into your now dripping cunt, so you can feel his tense and hard bulge grow just by looking at you.

[jaegersolstice]

nerd!eren x bubbly!reader

note: side sashcon, eren is really smart, implied college au

love is a funny thing, eren thinks.

the near-silent crackle of book spines when you open them, the petrichor that dances into the air after a fresh batch of rain, and of course — the freeing feeling of locking himself in his room after a tiring day of banter with connie. all things that eren utterly adores.

perhaps he uniquely finds love in the little things. sasha finds love in fresh batches of crackers, and connie finds love in her (eren thinks they’re sickening).

but then there’s you.

you gush when eren brings new boxes of chamomile tea, you grin when the toaster makes your toast perfectly crunchy (“slightly brown but not too burnt!”), and you happily dissect the importance of mail arriving on time.

“i swear, it makes a difference. when we get our mail on time, so does everyone else, and that makes their day which makes my day!” he fidgets with the corner of his jacket, shifting uncomfortably from sneaker to sneaker as he watches you sift through the envelopes.

he can solve a puzzle faster than the average human. he doesn’t need paper to solve math problems — yet, the moment he looks at you, he’s damn near blank.

“why do you care? i mean, it’s just mail, it’s not like you’re waiting for anything special- unless you are?” he stumbles, words flying uncomfortably out of his mouth. with every passing moment, your grin grows, and eren thinks he’s about to be blinded.

“well,” you whistle, slapping down the envelopes on the kitchen table and resting your head in your hands, “we all need something to make us happy rennie! mine just happens to be mail.”

eren thinks he’s simple. he likes his research, he likes the sink free from dishes, he likes tea, and he likes his job well enough. living comfortably, well, that’s enough for him. but looking at you forms a flutter in his stomach, one that won’t go away with a little tea or a library visit.

“yours?” eren snaps his head back to your gaze. “what did you say?”

“what makes you happy?” you.

instead, he shrugs. “nothing in particular, just small things, i guess.” you hum, averting your eyes to the kitchen window.

perhaps he can try and learn what it means to love the larger things, and maybe, you.

[writers-potion]

said is NOT DEAD. our brains have seen it so much that when reading dialogue, it just glosses over it. if you don't want to detract from the dialogue, USE SAID. other words might ground the reader a little too much and lose a bit of immersion.

--this comes from my old tutor who now has a phd in literature

Said Is Not Dead

Of course not! "Said" should still be your go-to speech tag, the benefit being that it flows best. I find it nice to have a larger working vocabulary when it comes to expressing speech, though, and I think many writers would agree! It's one thing to use "said" because you know it's the best word choice and another to keep using it because you can think of no alternative.

Having said that:

". . . Don't tell me your character 'excaimed,' 'stated,' or 'replied.' When in doubt, just use 'said.' That's all. Maybe they 'answered.' They certainly did not 'retort.' You can use 'said' more often than you think . . . it's one of those words that takes a while before it starts sounding repetitive." -- Ariel Gore, How to Become a Famous Writer Before You're Dead

"The best form of dialogue attribution is 'said,' as in 'he said, she said, Bill said, Monica said." -- Stephen King, On Writing

"Mr. [Robert] Ludlum . . . hates the 'he said' locution and avoids it as much as possible. Characters in The Bourne Ultimatum seldom 'say' anything. Instead, they cry, interject, interrupt, muse, state, counter, conclude, mumble, whisper (Mr. Ludlum is great on whispers), intone, roar, exclaim, fume, explode, mutter. There is one especially unforgettable tautology: '"I repeat," repeated Alex.' The book may sell in the billions, but it's still junk." -- Newgate Callender, in The New York Times Book Review

"Editors and critics often refer to melodramatic dialogue tags as 'said bookisms.' They know that these phrases give our story an amateurish look. Your readers might not know what the darn things are called, but chances are that they'll notice them, too . . . In most cases, the word 'said' would work just fine, and using said bookisms detracts from the dialogue." -- Ann M. Marble, "'Stop Using Those Said Bookisms,' the Editor Shrieked."

"[Say is] just too simple and clear and straightforward for many people. Why say something when you can declare, assert, expostulate, whine, exclaim, groan, peal, breathe, cry, explain, or asseverate it? I'm all for variety and freshness of expression, but let's not go overboard." -- Patricia T. O'Conner, Woe Is I

"In journalism circles, said is a virtue--simple, precise, and unadorned--and alternatives to it are considered frilly and silly. You don't have to agree, but be aware that lots of editors hold this view. Choose your alternatives to said with great care." --June Casagrande, It Was the Best of Sentences, It Was the Worst of Sentences

"We're all in favor of choosing exactly the right verb for the action, but when you're writing speaker attributions the right verb is nearly always 'said.' The reason those well-intentioned attempts at variety don't work is that verbs other than 'said' tend to draw attention away from the dialogue." --Renni Browne and Dave King, Self-Editing for Fiction Writers

Side Note: After a month-long hiatus while this uni writer struggled with exams, internships, interviews and multiple mental breakdowns, I am going to resume answering questions that have piled up in my inbox! Get ready to be bombarded with writing QnA!!!! :)

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[killxio]

dinner and dessert | e. yaeger

word count: 1,150 [4 min 10 sec read] | ✪ content warning: porn w a plot, medium-slow burn (?), p in v sex, semi-self aware cringe writer, missionary, creaming, creampie

eren x black!latina!reader / afrolatina!reader

✭ eren appreciating his sweet lil’ wife

your girl ever put down a plate of food so good you just have to take her soul? eren knows what that’s like.

he had that happen today, when he walked in after a long day of work to a plate of hot honey tenders with a side of mac and cheese and hand squeezed lemonade.

his beautiful wife, y/n, having just wiped her hands on her apron smiled when she caught his gaze.

“welcome home papi. yo cocinado para ti.”

he’s learning spanish but didn’t bother to listen to the second part, completely zoned out with his focus on her lightly glossed brown lips moving, smiling at him.

“‘rennie? i have a hot meal infront of you and you’re just staring at me?”

“‘cause i can’t tell what’s sexier. you or that plate of food.”

she bursts into the most beautiful giggles he’s ever heard and he can’t help but return the smile she’s beaming. everyday he comes home and is reminded to just how good of a catch he made, how stunning and amazing his wife truly is.

and so, over some RnB, she and eren sit for dinner. she has her legs to her chest in the dining room chair, pedicured toes and anklet resting comfortably. she waits, satisfied at the sight of her husband filling his stomach, until he’s ready to eat her up too.

——

“the only thing i can feed you that’s better than that food is this dick, even then it still might not compare.” he compliments in between neck kisses, you playfully swat him away and cower away into the bed. eren has since taken his shirt off and changed into a pair of shorts, you two deciding on movie and a glass of wine for yourself.

a glass of wine that you're close to spilling if he doesn't lighten up on the smothering.

"eren jaeger! these are white sheets! compartas y sientate!" you scold, still giggling, swatting at his bicep.

eren scoffs at your tone and moves lower on your neck, from the spot that makes you giggle to the one that makes you moan. and you'll be damned if you break your favorite wine glass.

"eren. let me- ahh- let me put down the glass. or i'll have you buy me twelve." he takes the glass, sitting it down on the nightstand himself while his other hand pulls you down the bed a little bit. he's leaning over you, dragging his kisses from your lower neck to your shoulder blades while his hands travel under your satin pajama shirt. his kisses are sloppy and you can hear the smack of his lips everytime he comes up to go elsewhere.

"thank you, my love, for the food." he says, finally using his lips for things other than trying to suck your skin off. he pulls up your shirt to reveal your breasts, nipples hard and at attention for him.

"mmm," you purr out at the sensation of his tounge dragging over your nipples, licking and sucking passionately. your hand goes up to his sloppily done bun, gently scratching at the back of his neck in a silent praise. through his own light moans, his green eyes focus on yours. the eye contact drives you crazy, he keeps it no matter what he’s doing, switching from kisses to licks or sucking.

“reeeeenn. ren bebe please,” you plead, beginning to grind your hips onto his thigh.

“you want something, princess?”

“yeah. you.” you flash him a smile that makes his dick throb, clearly feeling the wine with that smooth response.

it triggered something in him, if he wasn’t on a mission to break your pussy in before he was now.

in an instant, he’s between your thighs and ravaging at you. you can’t tell if that’s his spit or your pre running down your slit— probably a mix of both, but he digs in like you didn’t just feed him one of the best meals of his life. his tongue switches between moving your bud in circles, and placing deep kisses up and down your pussy. if there was a way to give a pussy hickies, yours would be littered with them.

his shoulders are flexing under the dimmed lighting of the moon and the tv long forgotten, drowned out by your moans. years of eating you out has perfected his science to a t, so needless to say the sucking sounds he’s coerced from your dripping cunt are beyond sinful.

“i don’t think you’ll ever know how fucking hard your pretty sounds make me.”

“mmmmm.. s-show me instead?” you ask rhetorically, rolling your hips into his face.

he pulls away to sit up, tugging off his black boxers to reveal his cock, standing hard at your attention. you spread your legs to allow him space between, and eagerly stroke him after he’s lined himself up with your entrance. the precum coating his dick gathers around your manicured fingers and the web between your thumb and pointer with each pump. he stops your movements and while he pushes himself into your cunt, he licks it all straight off, circling his tongue around your wedding ring. both sensations make you cry out.

and while he starts off slow, his pace never gets too fast but it’s still rough, making sure he hits your g-spot with every thrust and dragging the apparent vein of his cock along your walls. the one that splits in two from the middle to the left of his shaft that you’ve dragged your tongue up and down so many times.

“papi.. oh s-shit please..”

the feeling leaves your hands scrambling to ground you, and eren can’t help but find it adorable how you loose it no matter how many times he fucks you.

“calm down princess. you’re too tight, don’t end this too quick now. relax.” he commands, his hips stuttering slightly.

“c-cannn’t ren, hhhhn,” you voice over the wet squelch of eren driving his cock in, knocking into your walls harshly, and slowwwwly back out.

plop, slap, plop, slap, as the squelching sound of him entering you and then the rough slam of his hips once he was almost all the way in interchange. soon, your eyes rolled back as you barely mentioned something about cumming at your husband.

“cmon baby, cum for me.”

your orgasm sent your back flying up off the mattress, arching you towards him. the sensation of you contracting around him while you creamed and cried out sent him over the edge,

eren’s letting the most desperate groans out right into your ear as he empties his cock in you. the load spurting quickly then oozing from his tip as he slows his thrusts to a shop, eyes screwed shut while he holds your hips down on his dick.

all is still as you catch your breaths until,

“now roll over and arch for me princess.”

[scotianostra]

On July 26th 1820 the Union Chain Bridge, across the River Tweed was opened.

The Union Chain Bridge spans the River Tweed between Horncliffe, Northumberland, England and Fishwick, Borders, Scotland. It was designed by Captain (later Sir) Samuel Brown RN, who held patents for the design of the chains, although Brown altered the tower and abutments on the suggestion of John Rennie. When it opened in 1820 it was the longest wrought iron suspension bridge in the world with a span of 137 metres (449 ft), and the first vehicular bridge of its type in the country.

It cost £7,700 to construct and pre-dates the Clifton Suspension Bridge and the Menai Bridge, which are of similar design . Today it continues to carry traffic, and visitors can enjoy pleasant walks along the river bank. Just up the hill from the Union Chain Bridge on the English side is the Chain Bridge Honey Farm, where there is situated a permanent exhibition on chain suspension bridges.

Downstream on the Scottish side is Paxton House, where visitors can see Alexander Naismith's depiction of Union Chain Bridge, painted before its actual completion, as seen in the second picture.

Before the opening of the Union Bridge, crossing the river at this point involved an 11-mile via Berwick upon Tweed. Until 1885, tolls were charged for crossing the bridge; the toll cottage, being at the English end, was demolished in 1955.

The bridge reopened last year after a major £10.5 million restoration. it has been recognised as an International Historic Civil Engineering Landmark, joining the likes of Sydney Harbour Bridge and The Eiffel Tower.

Much ore on the bridge here http://www.unionbridgefriends.com/history/

[wings-of-ink]

Hello! I just wanted to say GC is soooo good! I've replayed it several times and every time I play I fall in love with the entire cast, they are all so interesting and adorable (especially Oswin if I could I would make him the biggest cup of hot chocolate and shower him with compliments) 🥹🥹🥹 The writing is also amazing! Your pacing is really good, every scene is always interesting and I never skip over paragraphs (which is a bad habit I tend to do when I'm bored while reading). I have started to get into writing and I was wondering if you have any tips you could share on plotting IF, pacing stories/scenes, making interesting characters, or anything else you want to share!

Hello dear! I am so glad you are liking GC so much! I too am guilty of skimming (mostly on re-reads, but sometimes my ADHD is like, go on - do a flip!). And Oswin would totally be down for some hot chocolate and compliments - ideal date material there.

I get a little teary eyed every time someone mentions that they like the writing. We are our own worst critics, so it just lights up my soul that my writing is enjoyable for you. I will try my best to give you some bits that have helped me, but no one formula works for everyone. The key is to find your formula, try things out and see what jives with your way of doing things.

Apologies, this ended up way longer than I anticipated, but I kept thinking of things that I wanted to include, lol.

What I would recommend for sure is to actually do some self-study on editing and not necessarily just writing. That helped me quite a bit. Originally, I was going to return to college for some sort of certificate or Associates in the editing/writing spectrum. But, I am in a situation that I cannot afford to pay for classes for (another) degree that I end up resenting, lol. So, I studied editing myself to see if I felt it was something I would like and would be capable of. I learned a lot and really enjoyed.

*I highly recommend "Intuitive Editing" by Tiffany Yates Martin, and "Self-Editing for Fiction Writers," Second Edition by Dave King, Renni Browne, Dave King.*

There's a lot out there to choose from though. Also, thriftbooks.com has helped me score very affordable copies when money was tight. I applied a lot of what I learned in those books as best I could, especially when it comes to pacing and cutting out those things that readers tend to skip. A key thing to take away from those books is how to write dialogue. I focus on dialogue a lot and I am always working to make it as good as I am able. And really, you can google this too, there's lots of articles about it.

With pacing, I'm not sure if I can put it as good of words as other books or articles can. You sort of need to just keep in mind of where you're going - push the plot forward always. But also remember that IFs take more space in this realm because of the different paths, especially if you have a romance element. IF readers want variety and they want to impact the story.

You can't get too lost in the details and descriptions all the time. If your setting is temporary - you don't need 6 passages about how the moss on the stones reminds your character of their emotional pathway in life. This is also a stylistic choice - I cannot write this way, but others are totally gifted to do so. For me, I like to let my reader make part of the setting - give them the framework and the important details, and their imagination fills in the blanks (but I will say there's a balance that, one I am still working on, lol). This helps move you along since your key points aren't broken up by paragraph upon paragraph of description.

As for planning & plotting, that part can be hard for me - ADHD, lol. I had no particular method for this, I just understand my limitations (attention and memory to name 2). GC started as a plot point in a note on my phone. It was really just the MC and their situation. From there, I just grew it out and kept thinking about it. I had a notebook that I brainstormed things in, from plot to characters and setting, I just jotted things down. I would recommend that before you start writing you know where you're going. You don't have to have everything plotted out bit by bit. You need your key moments, landmarks to hit on your journey through to where your ultimate destination is (or destinations if you want multiple outcomes).

Don't be reluctant to change things as you go. There are parts of GC that I thought for sure I'd have that ended up changing a lot or removed for the better. Be flexible, but if you have a specific scene in your head - write it - even if you don't know what comes before or after. If you use it that's great, if not - save it for later or for another story.

For characters, I don't know for sure, but I imagine everyone's approach is different. I don't even have a set method for this, some characters sort of spring to mind on their own. Sometimes, you may think of a personality you like or even a tragic backstory, and the character forms from there. I'd recommend keeping it a bit realistic - make them bad at things, give them a few defining characteristics/ticks/quirks, but remember that they can choose to act differently sometimes.

Something helpful to get to know your characters is to do profiles and such for them. There are lots of character templates out there that will ask you questions to help you flesh them out. One of my favorite things to do is to actually take a personality test or two from the point of view of my character - to see how would they answer these questions. The results you read can just help cement them as an actual person, and if you're not sure how they'd respond to something, you can consult these. I like to use https://www.16personalities.com/ just keep in mind that personality is not a set science at all, but reading up on them can really help you bring them to life.

For IFs specifically, I am still new to this. It is similar but different to writing a regular novel with set characters. Flexibility is key, but you have to remember you cannot appease every single reader even if you want to. When I write passages, I try to think of different ways things could go, or how different MCs might want to influence the situation. This can get daunting, so you sort of need to mitigate what is worth writing unique outcomes for (is the energy to do it and the impact worth it?).

Probably the biggest thing I would recommend for IF writing is to makes notes and track your stuff. For GC I have a document just for code and variables. I pre-write the code so I can copy and paste it and then fill in the unique text for whatever variable I'm on. I also keep separate documents that are "living" for each character, an overarching outline for the whole plot, reminders, editing notes - whatever I need. For me, it helps to do separate digital (searchable) documents, it just depends on your style of working.

Most of all, if you love writing, write. Find your voice. Try different things. Just do it. Don't fret about if it's been "done before" because, to an extent, everything really has - but no one has written your version of it. Write what you like, what you know. No one else is you.

Just a personal note from me - I got so caught up in being an "adult" with a college experience and jobs that left me withered like a husk, that I stopped doing what I loved for a long time. I have loved writing since I was a child. I wrote for fun with my best friend. I made stupid funny stories for my high school crew. I even did very bad comics for a while. It was just a downward spiral, and I hardly read or wrote anything for years. So, just keep at it. Even if you don't use what you write, it's good for the soul. Even if no one reads it, just do it for you.

I hope something in there is useful for you. Sorry if it's a lot, you let this dog off the leash and I got into literally everything (sorry I also piddled in the living room again). ^_^

[asexual-juliet]

OUTSIDERS MUSICAL COSTUME REFERENCE: Andre T. Malcolm as Steve Randle

Costume: Jean jacket with light brown collar and patches over crewneck sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off, cuffed blue jeans

Patches: - green circular patch with red outline that says “Black is beautiful” in black text (left side of jacket, over chest) - unidentified orange circular patch (left side of jacket, over chest) Black Panther patch (on right chest pocket)

*When Renni is on as Two-Bit, Andre does not wear the jean jacket as Steve!

Shoes: work boots

Jewelry: Silver earrings, ring on right pointer finger

Tattoos: Assorted designs (triangles & yin-yangs) on left forearm

[thehistoriangirl]

The Bridge We Can't Cross Over

Hiiii, this fic and its heartwrenching plot was requested by donor Caroline from @itsjustcaroline <3 I loved this idea sososos much that I'm truly lucky to have worked on it. Thank you very much for your donation in the event organized by @arcanefans4gaza and I hope you like it 🥹🥹🥹

Jayce x Viktor---2.3K---SFW*

The link for an AO3 experience is H E R E !

Summary: It's time for the both scientists to confess their secrets and the mistakes that led them on, hoping not only to find solace in each other, but also a solution. Before it'll be too late to amend anything at all.

Tags: Angst* | Hurt/Comfort | Based on that scene by the dam in Episode 9 | Implied Suicidal Thoughts *(Viktor) | Mentioned Character Deaths* (Sky and Renni's son) | Confessions | Guilt | Implied Relationship | Promises | Hopeful Ending (?)

Albeit the day was bright, Viktor didn’t feel the warmth of the sun.  

Ever since last night, when the horrors of his decisions taken up to this point had left him numb and pointless—with the rest of his hopes shattered into guilt, with his life purpose gone.  

What worth would be to survive when so many ghosts would cling to his every second of existence, reminding him that his dreams were just that; fleeting things that would only survive inside the mind of a child.  

And such innocence had gone so long ago.  

The ashes flown with the gentle breeze, running down the dam. Brown water with grey, particles sinking before Viktor could even think of something to say. Sorry wouldn’t cut it, and everything else was too complicated for his troubled mind to even start arranging his thoughts.  

No apology or regret could be enough—he hated to think that he’d become a flicking image of Singed, the one who loathed so much for his unethical view of life in the name of progress.  

In the name of selfishness, even, Viktor thought, pondering about the first time he visited the dam, accompanied by a mentor that could never understood his struggle. A twisted kind of pride that would bestow him with the category of a private hero. To bless his life with purpose so his existence could be passed on, not in any grandeur like Jayce’s, but just like the blatant proof of his capacity.  

Jayce. The name felt like a punch to the gut. What would he say once the truth got unveiled?  

And after their disagreement about the ultimate purpose of Hextech; what a fool he was to lean against war and end up staining his hands with innocent blood anyway.  

What a twisted life this was.  

To think he could’ve had what he wished for all his life, right in front of him, all the time. And now… now all left was the empty, rusty metal box where he unceremoniously kept Sky’s ashes.  

He wanted to throw up, yet his stomach was empty, throat raw from crying all night until everything he had inside his chest burned into a plain coal. Small and churned.  

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, weak fingers letting go of the lid as another blown of wind passed by. Grey ashes mixing with the continuous flow of water, black and grey and brown. They quickly sunk, and Viktor felt like sinking with them.  

After the euphoria of last night, and the appalling wave of reality crashing down right after, Viktor’s bones ached. But in a different kind of pain; not just worn-out use and taut muscles. It was within, in the mere marrow of his bones, every cell composing his being.  

It was his punishment, and yet he knew it wouldn’t be enough to compare to what it reverberate through his mind—years and years of comments, of mentalities, proven truth. 

The tip of his feet found the void below the edge, and even if his crutch was supporting his weight, he knew it would be so easy to let go.  

Picturing it perfectly; the clunk of the metal hitting rock, though maybe he wouldn’t hear it above the gurgle of water. The freezing liquid enveloping him, letting him sink like Sky’s ashes.  

“Am I interrupting?”  

If it weren’t for the crutch centering him on the ground, Jayce’s voice would’ve teetered him off the edge by mere impression. What was he doing here?  

He was so bad at lying, too. Pushing Sky’s diary in the depths of his ill-fitting vest, as if the bright teal blue could be concealed with his brown clothes.  

Though it seemed Jayce had battles of his own to care too much about his strange behavior. With new cuts adoring his face, the skin still tender and red. And the functional Hammer in all it’s glory falling with a loud clank on the ground.  

He didn’t even notice when he completed it—or where, even.  

It seemed both had their secrets. 

His eyes were tired and red, mouth upturned. They were almost a reflection of each other, and it would’ve been funny for the stark contrast if it weren’t for the bleak circumstances.  

“Remember the Distinguished Innovators’ Competition?” Jayce said, sitting at the opposite side of the dam’s aperture. 

Ah, the old times—it was so easy to get lost into them. Once they were naive enough to think their perfect world laid in the palms of their hands. Just like the day when they cracked Hextech, that time when the rules didn’t matter. Yet, how that had ended now? 

He couldn’t help but smile, nostalgia filling every cell of his body. 

“I remember you notching gears in the carriage over.” His voice had the faintest air of a chuckle he was too exhausted to emit. 

“They started cracking the engine and the whole thing was rattling,” Jayce continued, hazel eyes looking almost golden against the sunlight. “I thought a loose cog was gonna take someone’s eye out.” 

Viktor remember it quite well too; with people crowding them, the newest geniuses the City of Progress had produced. They were too close, and Jayce’s rich brown skin had looked yellowish and pale, his small napkin fiddled between his hands as he had even forgotten to keep patting the sweat off his forehead.  

“At least you didn’t throw up,” he couldn’t stop himself but tease him. Old habits hardly died, and now to stick to remembering the best, just as the way Jayce’s presence warmed him from the inside out. 

It was the first time he saw the Golden Boy lose his footing, leaving Viktor to lead the presentation. And it didn’t matter the gazes full of disdain, because they were paving the way to reach their juvenile dreams. The future had been brilliant, practically laid in the palm of their hands.  

Jayce scoffed, the memory slipping through his fingers.  

“Everything made sense then.” He stole the words out his mind.  

Viktor felt his legs giving up, the edge of the rock from the edge of the dam cold and humid under him, his limbs dangling in the air.  

He knew what he should do; the mere thought making him feel dizzy, his heart hammering inside his chest. The words we talked with Singed echoed inside his mind like a mocking chant. 

Jayce will understand, he told him. But would he? 

His lips were dry once he opened his mouth to speak.  

“Jay--” 

“I was wrong, Vik,” Jayce interrupted him, his voice hurried, almost fearing that if he didn’t say it right away, whatever truth about to be spilled would never come out.  

He looked at him, patient.  

“War isn’t the option,” Jayce sighed. “It can’t be.” 

“What happened?” The scientist was about to pass his hands through his face, wincing once he touched one of the cuts through his cheeks. “Is it about the hammer?” Viktor tried to guess, easing into the topic that it couldn’t be as smooth to confess. Truth was never. 

Jayce leaned his elbows against his thighs, rotating his body toward him. “I thought it was best to uproot the sickness from the origin. So I... I had the stupid idea of destroying the factories of Shimmer. To snatch Silco’s power right in front of his eyes. But...” 

I can’t do it, stayed floating in the tense air between them.  

“I realized that it’s easier to destroy than to help. To kill than to save.” Jayce opened his palms, observing the rough edges, the red spots that would develop in calluses from how hard he’d been grabbing the hammer, both before and after the raid. “They use children, Vik. Did you know? I didn’t, and at first I didn’t... I couldn’t notice them—because I didn’t wish to; I thought that everyone there were bad and corrupted. And then they... they sent those... monsters, with their full-on armors and flashing pink blades.” 

Jayce chuckled, such a bitter sound. “I got caught in the heat of the moment. And now I have so much blood in my hands I don’t think it will ever justify itself. I don’t think I’ll be able to wash it off my mind. I don’t want to.” 

He intertwined his hands, the sunlight showing the glimmering tears trapped inside his gaze. “Ever since that mage saved my mother and me from the blizzard, I wanted to be like him. To be a hero, like the ones you read about in books, with my cape and my suit. You know, a child’s impossible dream. I wanted to save people like the mage saved us. The same way he did, with... magic.” He observed the Hammer, now laying unceremoniously on the ground, looking dull and big and... wrong. “And when I felt like war was breaking in, I wished to stop its advances, to take the upper hand. Yet I just made everything wrong.” 

His shoulders sagged. “The boy wouldn’t be older than when the mage saved us, and yet his first sight of Hextech was his last,” Jayce muttered, wishing his voice to never reach Viktor. Because he would think of him as a monster, and he was. So many nights imagining if only he’d meet Viktor earlier, during their stay at the Academy, or even before, how many great things they would’ve achieved, how many moments would’ve been built before a clock suspended itself over their heads. “I killed him, Viktor. And I should say it was a mistake, that I didn’t notice it. But I don’t wish to excuse myself. I’m no better than the person behind all this; and if I’m no different, then how am I supposed to create a plan to protect Piltover?” 

Duty weights heavy, and Jayce hadn’t wish to take on the opulent cloak in the first place. Yes, he loved the way the city had put their hopes of a brighter future to be on Viktor and him, but he’d never wanted power. Jayce had been foolish enough to believe he could get his freedom without cost, ignoring that only those on top could achieve it when they didn’t have anyone else to explain their reasoning to.  

Power and wealth bought freedom, and he had noticed too late to stop. 

“Jayce,” Viktor said, his voice broken. “Do you think our younger selves would hate us if they could see us now?” 

His hazel eyes closed during a long, painful sigh. “Would they have preferred to turn their backs to this research?” 

Yes. Viktor felt the truth burning his chest like red irons. He would’ve returned to be a simple assistant, to try fight death in another way. Or not at all, even. Viktor wasn’t sure about that. 

“Sky is gone.” I killed her, got stuck in his throat. “I... I deserve to be banished, Jayce. I’ve done so many wrong things that I-I don’t know how to keep on going.” 

The secrets spilled out in a constant stream, accompanied by the flowing water of the dam. Viktor’s voice almost drowned out by the noise. “I lied to you when I went to the Undercity.” He grabbed ahold of his crutch, so forcefully his knuckles tinted white. “My... acquaintance gave me a solution. An experiment. But I couldn’t calculate the risks properly, and... and I... I—” 

Viktor took the soft edge of Sky’s journal, the teal-colored leather soft and warm under his fingers, such a stark contrast to the hard edges of the metal box, of the dusty nature of ashes. Her ashes. He showed the notebook to Jayce, whose frown eased once he recognized the handwriting.  

“You have to destroy it,” Viktor blurted out, closing his eyes as he remembered the lightning of red, hot pain travelling through his leg all the way up his head, the Hexcore looming with its purplish, corrupted light over his collapsed form. Horrible, disembodied moans and screams flooding the quiet room. 

Jayce looked from him toward the Hammer, the gears of his mind working overtime.  

“The Hexcore,” Viktor explained. It wasn’t Hextech anymore, not since it had tasted organic matter.  

“But Vik, I... I can’t do it.” 

“It has been corrupted, Jayce. You need to destroy it, because I can’t.” Viktor looked at the dirty stream of brown water running toward the Undercity, thinking hopelessly about how many kids would end up like him from that same liquid. “I mixed it with my blood and with Shimmer, and now it... it killed Sky—it helped me kill Sky so I could...” He could what? Heal? His right leg was barely mobile anymore, the feeling of his legs sprinting along the dock just a dream at this point. His once muscles and bones had fused into metal and purple threads. “You have to destroy it. Please.” 

“And what about your disease, without the Hexcore--” 

Viktor’s dry cough interrupted him, the scientist’s mind already understanding the consequences of such petition. If he had asked such a thing, it meant that there was nothing else to try.  

It meant he was giving up, and that terrified him. Viktor, the man that saved his life, his friend and partner. The only one who could understand him. He was going to die.  

“We’ll find a way,” Jayce said. “To amend ourselves, to save you. I promise you, Viktor.” He reached for him, patting his sharp shoulder. “We can make the impossible possible, you know that, right?” 

They had cracked Hextech, controlling magic and changing the course of the whole city—they could save themselves, too. Together, they could do whatever they wanted. 

Viktor nodded, his head still low yet with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Promise me, Jayce,” he insisted, golden eyes glued onto his.  

“Okay, okay,” Jayce gave up, a heavy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he stood up next to Viktor. “I promise.” 

They stood there in silence for a while, with Viktor leaning against Jayce and soothed by his steady heartbeat, both hoping that this promise wasn't mean to be broken like the myriads of them laid across history.