#slowly but surely making progress on this reread

[cicadagaze]

book 2 and 3 finished! :') agh.

[walkingstackofbooks]

Consider: Julian being pregnant with Yoshi and going to Federation parenting classes with Miles and Keiko. And encountering a list of all the rights and freedoms every child is supposed to be entitled to. Some of which... don't sound like his childhood. (Cw child abuse)

I've got SO MANY more ideas for this it may turn into a series who knows??? But I want to share it now so people can maybe like it? Because I have feeeelings.

--

"So these are just, uh, suggestions, right? Parents don't have to do all of them?" Julian asked, instantly regretting it. If Miles' dirty look was anything to go by, clearly that had been the wrong thing to say.

"Julian," he gritted out, "you're my best mate and you're carrying my child so I'm going to give you a chance to explain. What the hell do you mean by that?"

Julian really wasn't sure that he could. Some of the statements on the poster had surprised him, that was all, but he didn't really want to get into the reasons why.

"Don't, uh— Don't worry. It's not important," he tried to deflect.

"It bloody well is important, if you're just planning to ignore what you're learning here."

"Miles—" Keiko broke in, placing a hand on her husband's knee.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Julian exclaimed, cradling his stomach protectively. "I was just saying that, um... I guess that they're not all as important as each other, are they? Lack of privacy, for example - that's not exactly abusive, is it, like some of the others?"

"That's a common misconception, but no, Doctor Bashir," answered Mx Rakoto. "Any parent showing a consistent failure to meet any one of these standards would be enough to investigate them for abuse."

"Oh."

"What do you mean, "oh"?" Miles asked, with an irritation that compelled Julian to shrug and look away.

"I guess I just didn't realise it was taken that seriously," he replied, feeling kind of silly and small as he said it. "I know we learnt about them in school, but back then it was more of a thing for teachers than parents, wasn't it?"

There was a pause, before Keiko said tentatively, "...These have always been for parents, Julian."

"Mrs O'Brien is correct," Mx Rakoto added. "Your parents would have completed a very similar course to this - some things have changed of course, there's always more progress that can be done, but the fundamental rights and freedoms of children haven't changed, and nor has the law."

"No, but..." Julian's brain didn't seem to be working properly; was he missing something?

"You're saying these are things I should have had at home and at school?"

"Yes?"

"And my parents should have known about them?"

"I would find it hard to believe that they didn't. Parents are required to access learning about this every few years."

"Oh." Julian's voice had gone very quiet at the point. "I think I— I need a minute..." he said shakily, eyes glued to the poster in front of him, reading and rereading the information as he tried to figure out what he'd got wrong.

Right to privacy.

Right to choose their own name.

Right to appropriate support and accommodations of a disability.

Freedom from unnecessary medical interventions.

Freedom from torture.

Right to make mistakes.

"Julian?" asked Keiko softly, startling him out of his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "I didn't know," he whispered. "I mean, it's not like I thought they were great parents, you know, but I didn't think... Well, most people complain about their parents, don't they? I didn't think mine were abnormally bad. But there are so many things—" His voice quavered, almost breaking. "And you say they could have been investigated for just breaking one?"

"What... what kind of things?" asked Miles hesitantly. "Only if you want to tell us, of course."

Julian's eyes flicked around the room, but Mx. Rakoto seemed to have left the room.

"They've gone," confirmed Keiko, seeming to catch onto what he was thinking. "I can go too, if you'd prefer..."

"No - it's alright," said Julian. "It's just... a lot to take in."

His eyes returned to the poster. Right to encouragement. Freedom from humiliation and constant criticism. Right to self-expression. Right to relax and play. Right to mistakes.

"It must be hard, right," he started, looking to them both anxiously, "to keep these all in your head? There's a lot of them, it must be normal to not remember all of them all the time?"

Miles and Keiko exchanged glances, a second-long conversation that Julian was not privy to.

"All parents make mistakes," said Keiko kindly. "It's when these things start getting ignored often that there's a problem."

"And some of them you barely have to think about anyway," added Miles. "You know, "right to shelter", "right to food", "right to clothes" - it's not difficult stuff. You don't have kids if you don't want to look after them properly."

"Then why did my parents find it so difficult?" The words burst out of Julian before he could stop them. "What was so wrong with me that meant they didn't do all this?"

"No, oh no, Julian," said Keiko, as Miles reached out to pull him in for a hug. "Don't think like that. It wasn't you—"

Julian wasn't really listening: his question had finally given him the puzzle piece he had been missing - he'd realised what hadn't been adding up.

"No... no, it's fine," he said, feeling a little floaty now he'd got his thoughts all in order. "No, it was me. I was a difficult kid. That's..." He shook himself, feeling his cheeks get hot as he wondered what the O'Briens must be thinking. "I'm sorry, this session was supposed to be about your child, not about me."

"Our child," corrected Miles gruffly. "And this is important, Julian. I don't give a damn if you were "difficult", your parents don't get to just ignore your rights."

"You don't understand," said Julian desperately, hoping he'd be able to make them see even without mentioning his enhancements. He'd made a real mountain out of a molehill here, he didn't know why he hadn't managed to connect the dots quicker before this all had spiralled out of control. "I tried to piss my parents off. I'd stay out too late and go drinking illegally and date guys way too old for me just because I knew it would annoy them. And I'd always talk back and argue with my dad, and find ways to be smarter than him, and—"

"And none of that was enough to lose your rights, Julian," said Keiko gently. "That's not how it works."

Julian was shaking; he didn't want to listen to them. He'd figured it out - it was his fault his parents hadn't done everything they were supposed to, because if it wasn't his fault, it was their fault, and that meant... well, that they were abnormally bad parents, and that... that...

"Hey," said Miles, more softly than Julian had ever heard him, peeling Julian's hands away from where he'd been covering his ears. "Let's say you're right — just for a moment," he added in response to Keiko's hissed "Miles?". "Maybe we don't understand everything that went on. Why don't you tell us which of these you weren't getting from your parents, yeah? Explain it to us a bit more?"

Flashing him a weak smile, Julian nodded. He should have known he could always count on Miles.

"Okay, yeah, um— so I guess, uh, "right to choose your own name"?" he said, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched Keiko pull the poster up on her PADD and circle it, but choosing not to comment. "It wasn't like, transphobic or anything though," he defended. "They'd just always called me 'Jules' since I was little, you know? So it's not really..." He trailed off, shrugging.

"Okay..." said Miles, and Julian tried to ignore the dubious look his friend shot at Keiko. "Anything else?"

"Um - I always had to, uh, leave my door open? Or if I closed it, they wouldn't knock before coming in... That's not that weird though, right? One of my Academy friends thought it was, but--"

"Did you feel like your parents respected your privacy?" asked Keiko, and Julian looked at her for a few seconds, before shaking his head.

"But they were my parents," he said. "That was just how they looked out for me. They were supposed to look out for me."

"And you were supposed to have a right to privacy," replied Keiko, making another circle on her PADD. Fuck, this wasn't going the way Julian had thought it would. Hurriedly, he looked for a different one to try to explain better.

"Constant criticism," he said, distantly noticing the strangled tone to his voice. "That's hardly surprising, right? I mean, if you get things wrong all the time, you're going to be criticised, that's just how it works."

Neither Keiko nor Miles looked convinced; clearly he wasn't trying hard enough, describing clearly enough why it had been alright his parents hadn't been perfect. He was getting this all wrong.

The right to make mistakes.

For some reason, those had been the words his eyes hadn't been able to leave alone. Every time he went past them, his heart caught on them, as though the words were a rusty nail left half-buried in his skin.

It wasn't a fair comparison, really. He had been different to the other children - better, smarter - so of course he hadn't been allowed to make the same mistakes they did. Of course his parents' expectations had been high; they'd known what he was.

But all the same, it sounded nice, that imaginary childhood where all mistakes were okay, not just the ones he'd carefully measured out to avoid detection.

He didn't realise he was crying until he felt a rough thumb wiping a tear off his cheek.

"Oh, Julian," Miles was saying. "It's okay, you can let it out now. We're here for you. I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known."

[shiny-jr]

Any updates on the damnation au ,’)

Actually, yes, there is. Some good news, some bad news. But I'll put this off now, to get it off my shoulders. This is an important damnation update!

Let's start with the good news, shall we? The good news is, Ignihyde is less than ten pages away from completion. I have been able to write a bit for it recently, so steadily that number is going up. It has taken a while to get back into the groove of things, as it's been so long since I've written anything and I had to reread what I had, reflect and brainstorm, all that jazz. However, progress is being made slowly but surely.

Additionally, the follower count is getting closer and closer to 8,000. Like, very close. It's like I'm sitting here, yapping mostly, ranting, and occasionally putting out a post, only for new readers to go "okay, I like this" and follow, despite me not being able to post much. At this exact moment of me writing this, the follower count is 7,821 and usually soon I start reblogging previous damnation results leading up to the moment I will post the new result.

Now, notice I have yet to say anything about Diasomnia. That is because I have yet to begin writing for it, despite the ideas I already have for it.

I want to be real for a moment, and saying that this has generated some anxiety for me, which is never good.

I don't want this fun hobby to become a burden I learn to dread. There's many things I worry about. I won't be able to come anywhere near completion for Diasomnia in time, it'll be rushed and be a horrible ending to an otherwise decent series I'm mostly proud of. At this point to being so close to finishing Ignihyde's damnation story, I worry that it's not good enough. That it's nothing compared to the previous endings. That it won't be well received.

These thoughts about Ignihyde's part are something I often experience before posting something major I've worked on for a while, which I expected. I will go through with Ignihyde, as it should be done well before the milestone is reached. At the pace things are going, I will not be forcing myself to hurry to start and finish Diasomnia.

I do not want to make a mess of things, and create some unsatisfactory ending. That's why, for now, Diasomnia's ending will be delayed. I wish to write a good story, at least to the best of my ability, and I cannot do that in a time crunch while under pressure. I'm sorry if this is disappointing news. I hope I can make up for this in a good Diasomnia damnation ending later on, but not now.

Further updates for damnation, the Ignihyde ending, will be posted soon. Thank you for reading this long announcement.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: E for Edging

Summary: Hell hath no pettiness like a woman ignored.

Notes: ~4k words of pure POR-, Dream in this fic can be summed up as "the light is on but no one is home", reader gives big bratty energy and I love that for her honestly (same)

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Sub!Dream, orgasm denial, edging (duh), unprotected intercourse, p in v, handjob, blowjob, riding, takin' it from da back

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

D for Doggy ⇆ F for Face Sitting

How busy could a monarch possibly be? 

You sit on the plush couch, quietly seething like the crackling fireplace that accompanies you. It should be your husband who should be accompanying you instead. The book you were supposedly reading has long since become words on a page, the letters merging together and tangling within themselves. You dejectedly shut the book with a bang as you realize you’ve been rereading the same line with no progress for the past hour. 

You understand that Morpheus’ duties are never ending, as endless as his name, but would it really kill him to spend a few hours a day with you? With a sigh, you toss the book onto the ottoman and stand, your bones groaning as they finally move after hours of staying still. A bath wouldn’t sound half bad right now. 

Another sigh of relief leaves you as you enter the bathhouse. The large communal bath of natural spring waters was completely empty. You still take a quick glimpse around before stripping yourself before submerging into the hot water, the sudden change in temperature making your nipples perk. The temperature burns you for a moment, but you soon become acclimated to it. You completely submerge yourself, the natural hum of The Dreaming deafens as you do, and with all of your pent up frustrations, you scream into the water, watching as the air leaves your lips in large, aggressive bubbles that swim to the surface. 

“Anyway,” You say to yourself when you resurface, already feeling much better. 

You move to the side, grabbing at a bar of soap, and begin to lavish it across your skin, feeling the soothing effect glide over your skin. The water was doing wonders on your muscles and the hum that leaves your lips was that of satisfaction. 

“There you are,” Morpheus’ voice echoes in the empty room. 

You turn slowly as you look at him, your body fully submerged in the water, except for anything above your nose. You stay quiet, too vexed with him to say anything of note. Instead, you turn away and continue washing your body. 

“Are you that angry with me?” He continues and you hear the faint rustling of him removing his clothes and him walking into the bath soon after. The still water sloshes around his waist as he continues his path towards you and you soon feel his cooler limbs wrap around your body. 

“Have you missed me?” He murmurs into your neck as he rests his head there. The comfort of your skin against his revitalizes his tired body. 

The grip you had on the soap turns bone-crushing at his question. Have you missed me? You repeat his question in your head in a mocking tone. He surely needs to be punished for leaving you alone for so long. A plan is quick and easy to form in your head and a sly smile crawls on your lips. 

You turn in his arms, the same smile on your lips as you look up at him. 

“Dearly,” You answer back and press your lips to his. The heat of the bathhouse increases the heat that grows at your core. “Let me show you how much, my love.”

The suds of the soap drips down your hand as you continue to lather the bar with your one hand. The other hand is placed commanded on his shoulder to prevent him from running away, as if he would ever do so from your touch. A smile appears on his face as well as your sudsy hand trails down his chest and closer to his nether regions. 

It is of no surprise to you when you already feel his half erection greeting you beneath the waters. Your slippery fingers grasp around the shaft and a broken gasp leaves Dream’s mouth. You meticulously move your hands along his cock as you wickedly watch as he throws his head back in pleasure. His Adam’s apple bobs with each beautiful sound that comes out of his throat and you don’t restrain yourself from wrapping your lips around the protruding piece.

Slowly, your hand increases in pace, gripping his cock tighter as you do so, the water and soap assisting you as your fingers glide across the skin. His moans and groans soon turn breathless and he’s simply breathing hard and desperate against your hand. The sounds echoed across the walls of the bathhouse. 

His hands shoot out of the water as he grabs the back of your neck, looking deeply into your eyes as your hand continues its ministrations. His eyebrows crease as his dick jumps in your hand, mouth open in a silent plea as his orgasm comes closer to its peak. A whisper of your name like a prayer falls from his lips and both of you know he won’t last long. Morpheus closes his eyes in anticipation as his muscles tense below his skin. 

His eyes snap open as your fingers leave him, pushing yourself back away from his body and he’s left standing on wobbly legs. The water ripples from his trembling and close orgasmed body. 

“What-”

“Would you look at the time? I should go to bed now. Good night, Morpheus,” You cut him off with a firm hand. 

His eyes follow you as you walk out of the bath. Eyes lingering on the roundness of your ass cheeks as they pop out further as you climb up the stairs. His feet stay planted in the bath as you wrap yourself in a towel. He stays still even as you leave the room without a second glance at you. He could finish himself off, but he knows it wouldn’t be as good as your hands.

The next day, you catch Morpheus and yourself by surprise as you see him standing along the aisles of the library. Embarrassment floods your system as you vividly remember what transpired the other day. Never had you defied him so easily… and felt so happy to do so.

You peek over the bookshelf you were half hiding behind. Morpheus had an off-glazed look in his eyes. His finger was resting on the spine of a book and he kept it there for a while. If you squint you don’t think he was even breathing. You walk up to him, his gaze still not noticing you. A tap on his shoulder was enough to garner his attention, and he seemed to snap out of his zombie-like state after seeing you. 

“Are you all right, my dear?” You ask in truth. His distracted demeanor is a cause for concern. 

Almost immediately his eyes harden and a frown grows on his face. 

“You,” He growls down at you. “You left me wanting last night, denying me such a thing like that is cruel.”

You huff at his accusation. If denying one orgasm is cruel, what does he call leaving you alone for days on end then? 

“Want me to make it up to you?” You reply coyly and with a smile. Your fingers go to the lapels of his jacket and smooth over them. 

A quizzical brow raises itself at your compromise but his will dejects with a sigh. “How would you do that, dearest?”

“Well, I could…” You trail off as your fingers down his chest, just like the night before. You feel the sturdiness of the chest and how his heartbeat thrums beneath your fingers. He’s so real for the physical manifestation of a concept. “I could do something better than last night?” 

He hums as your fingers ghost over the hem of his jeans, feeling his happy trail and the depth of the lines that lead itself to his cock. You cup at his growing hardness through the rough material and his hands once again go to you, holding you gently on your waist. 

His eyes hold yours as you sink to your knees before him, a smile still evidently on your face. You don’t bother looking away when your fingers pop the button, nor when you pull at the zipper, his breath growing heavier at each tick of the metal. Your fingers tickle gently over the length of him behind the thin cloth of his underwear. 

His hand grabs at the root of your hair as his hips impatiently bucks into your face. With a flat tongue, you press the wet appendage over the tip of him, wetting the cloth underneath as you trace around his frenulum. The smell of his manhood invades your senses as you do so and your eyes roll to the back of your head at his soft moan. 

A little pull is all you need for his cock to spring out of its confinement, hot and heavy and leaking with excited precum. You feel its warmth as your soft lips kiss his tip, taking your hands around his base. You lick at the precum carefully then and his grip strengthens in your hair. 

“You said it would be better. Enough teasing,” He commands and you feel your lips tug into a barely containable smile. 

Without debate you wrap your lips around his tip, suckling at the supple skin. The bookshelf he leans against rattles as his head slams into the wooden material. You take down another inch while your hand continues to work his base. Saliva drips through your lips, creating a trail down a vein as you continue to suckle. 

A guttural groan tells you to go deeper, and you do until you feel him hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes begin to tear slightly at the large intrusion, but you push through for your master plan. You hollow out your throat, taking him down the tight cavern, and relish in the feeling of his thighs flexing under your fingers. 

Your nails dig into his thigh muscles as you bob your head back and forth on his weeping cock, the filthy mixture of saliva and pre-cum rests deliciously on your tongue. Morpheus has started to curse from above you at the warm fit. The Dreaming around you begins to hum louder as you pull back on his cock, sucking as hard as you could with him in your mouth. 

His dick jumps in your mouth, his telltale sign that he is close to his orgasm. That and your name falling from his lips once again. His hand has yet to leave your hair as his hips try to take over by bucking themselves into your mouth each time you try to pull back. His thigh muscles spasm each second that passes and just as he’s about to see the stars, you remove your lips with a satisfying pop. 

Cold air wraps around his cock instead of your warm mouth and he does his best to stop the whine that almost escapes his lips. Morpheus’ breath is ragged above you and his frown returns as he glares down at you. You looked perfect like this to him, on your knees, cheeks flushed, hair messy, and eyes watery. The only thing wrong with the picture was your satisfied grin that spread across your face and that very obvious fact that your mouth isn’t being put to use satisfying him. 

“What do you-”

“Oh my, I think I hear Lucienne coming. I should go, goodbye, Morpheus!” You cheerfully lie as you stand and briskly walk away. 

Lucienne was, of course, nowhere to be seen in the library. Both of them knew she was out gathering the consensus for the new year. Morpheus groans as he presses his palms into his eyes. You were going to be the death of him, even without trying. He’s starting to finally think that you were up to something, that devious smile of yours still flashes across his mind when he closes his eyes. He carefully puts his softening cock back into his pants as he absentmindedly thinks to himself. He doesn’t even remember why he was in the library to begin with. 

Morpheus’ thoughts trail with him throughout the day and even the Dreaming residents notice the forlorn face that he wore. It was said that while he was attending to his duties and upholding the Dreaming, it was almost barely viable. His attitude turned sour and only answered Matthew’s questions with a simple grunt or resounding “no” (not much of a change there if you were to ask the bird). Lucienne was less than amused but unable to find you to help fix this issue, she kept quiet and hoped it would pass quickly with time. 

That night, you were back on that couch, the fireplace was going again and the book you were reading was back in your hands. You’re freshly washed and enjoying the soft fabric of your summer’s nightgown as your feet tangle with the soft furs of the rug. This time, you did manage to read a few chapters but after a while, your thoughts went to the faces Morpheus made each time you denied his orgasm and a chuckle shakes through you. Surely this will teach him to never leave you alone for more than a couple days at a time. 

The Dreaming this and The Dreaming that, well, next time he will remember that you too are a part of his world if he should ever want to feel the sweet release of his orgasm again. You’re sure the last two days have been Hell for him, but it was all worth it. That desperate look on his face was like sweet victory trickling down your throat, smooth and refreshing. 

The door to your shared room opens with a bang causing you to drop your book in surprise. You look at Morpheus with wide eyes as you’re completely caught off by his sudden intrusion. Words fail you as he swiftly makes his way to you, standing in front of you with his lips tugging downwards. A scoff leaves you as you realize he’s pouting at you. 

“What ever is the matter, sweet Morpheus?” You tease in an almost condescending, sickly sweet voice. 

“You’re punishing me.” It wasn’t a question. He states it loud and clear. It had taken him all day to decipher your actions. The thought had been chasing him for the past two days, but he was always faster than it, jittering from denied orgasms and responsibilities to accomplish. 

“No!” You gasp with exaggeration. “We were simply interrupted!” 

Morpheus stays silent at your blatant lie, if anything you basically smacked him with a sign that read “yes, obviously, you numb-nut of a lover.” He doesn’t bother to move either, his eyes betraying his pseudo-domineering stance at the moment. 

“Well, good conversation then,” You mutter to yourself as you pick up your book again. You turn to the page you left off on and begin to read again. 

Morpheus’ gaze burned two holes into the top of your head as you read. Not before long, another surprised noise leaves you as he plucks the book from your hands and throws it off into some unknown corner of the room. 

“Lucienne is going to murder you for treating her books like that,” You comment with a cross of your arms. 

“She’ll survive,” He growls down at you. He’s met with your brow raising in turn, in which he finally pieces the last piece together. “Are you acting out because I’ve been neglecting you?”

Dang, he really hit the nail in the head with that one. You turn your head to the side, arms still crossed as you respond. 

“Well, I certainly got your attention this time.”

“I’d say,” He muses. He sits down by your feet, the white fur of the rug in stark contrast to his outfit. The fireplace softens his sharpness with its warm glow as you look at him from above. 

You think the conversation was over then, it seemed like the two of you came to a conclusion. Getting up from the couch, you try to walk over to the corner the book was lying in, but are stopped almost immediately as he holds onto your wrist. 

“How can I make it up to you, my love?” He asks and the pout almost makes it to his lips again. And, well, how can you say no to a face like that? 

You join him on the rug, hands cupping at his face. He leans into your touch, the moment endearing as you look at him. 

“Did we learn anything?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Lay down for me, darling. And let’s get rid of the clothes,” You hum. 

The change is instantaneous as he lays down per your request. The furs caress against your shins as you move to straddle him, picking up the helms of your nightgown in the process. Your arousal starts to drip out of you at the sight before you. Reducing a King to nothing but a needy lover was a sight for fond eyes. It’s the thought of knowing that he could easily overpower you if he so wanted, but relinquishing all his power just so you may touch him? Delicious. 

Your pussy lips slide across the length of him as you get comfortable sitting on his lap. Morpheus’ hands easily find themselves, once again on your waist. How he wished you would strip for him as well, but he doesn’t voice his want in case you decided against touching him tonight. 

Leaning over, you go to kiss him, feeling his soft lips against yours and even you can’t deny your body when it grinds down over his cock. A satisfied hum emits from your throat as his hands wander over the curve of your ass and you leave his lips to give him bruising kisses along his pale skin. You are a painter and he is a canvas where you will show the world how much you loved him. Red blooms across the soft skin, his grip on you tightening. 

His hips thrust upwards with a moan, to which you defiantly sit down harder on him to prevent him from moving anymore. Your name falls from his lips in a hushed whisper, barely audible over the crackling fire. It sends a tug into your core, to hear it in such reverence. With heavy breath, you lean back and watch as his lips try to chase you. 

Morpheus stops himself short when he sees you raising slightly, hand moving between the two of you and firmly grabbing at his cock. You guide himself under you, teasing him a bit more by sliding his tip across the length of your slit. His mouth opens in protest, but before words can come out, you sink yourself onto him. 

Harmonious groans tangled with each other at the feeling. The familiar stretch of him leaves you panting above him. Your warmth was incomparable to your hands or mouth and Morpheus’ nails left small crevices in your thighs. The slight pain grounds you from drifting off into a complete world of pleasure. It takes a few moments for you to start moving your hips, the size of him taking a few moments to adjust to. The first drag of his cock in you leaves you shaking already. It had been too long since you had last felt the touch of his skin against yours. 

With your hands bracing themselves on his chest, you begin your bounces, keeping a rhythm that you like. Morpheus is like putty beneath your fingers, grasping at any part of you that he could in his throes of pleasure. His hair is beyond tussled, his lips dry and parted as noises accompany the slap of your thighs against his. 

Each bounce makes his tip kiss against your cervix, your walls fluttering around him in a vice like grip at how well you took him. It was familiar but exciting each time you took him again and again. The smell of sex accompanies the smell of burning wood on the floor as your thighs shake in exhaustion. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You whine out as you realize your rhythm starts to slow down. 

You settle to grind on him instead, loving the way the new maneuver has his tip rubbing against the spongy spot in you. You gasp with your head thrown back as you’re about to reach your peak. 

Morpheus stares at you in awe, sweat highlights your skin in the lowlight and your breasts bounce with each grind you push down onto him. Your hands brace themselves on his thighs as you feel your orgasm impeding slowly into your system. Just a few more like this and you would be done for and Morpheus would soon follow. 

Another mischievous idea pops into your head through the haze of pleasure. With the remainder of your strength, you rise, letting his cock slip out of you. Morpheus whines this time, unable to hold it back as his hands grip your waist trying to pull you back onto him, to let you ride him into oblivion. 

You feel his heat as you hover over his cock, panting into his neck. You may have denied your own orgasm, but seeing his teary and begging eyes was exactly what you wanted. His chest heaves with annoyance as a familiar frown makes its way onto his face. 

“What do you think you are doing? I am going to kill you,” He accuses beneath you. The insult leaves his mouth but both of you know he would never follow through with it. 

“I think… ha…” You’re still panting, cardio has never been your strong suit. “I think I’m too tired. I should turn in for the night, my love.” 

“Surely you are joking,” He laughs void of any actual amusement. 

“No, no, I’m just sooo tired. Yeah.” You fake a yawn as you unstraddle his waist. 

His eyes trail you as you stand on wobbly legs, using the couch as a crutch as a halfway point to your shared bed. 

“Absolutely not,” He comments as his hand brings you down again having you kneeling before the couch.

He’s quick to appear behind you, running his fingers down your spine to rest on your hip. The sensation leaves you weak and limp, bracing on the seat of the couch and resting your head on your arms. A kiss to the center of your shoulder blades is the only warning he gives before he inserts himself into you again. 

Morpheus doesn’t wait as he picks up a brutal pace, each thrust he gives you communicating his frustrations. The legs of the furniture scratch the floor beneath it as it rocks with your body. You’re left, once again, panting in pleasure at the drag of his cock within your walls. 

His grip on your hip is enough to bruise, to remind you of your passionate night the day after. His other hand snakes in front of your neck, pushing your face upwards, scattering your broken moans into the air. 

The orgasm you denied yourself comes back with full force, your eyes shutting as you feel it searing through you. With help from Morpheus, as he thrusts forward into you, your lower lips clamp down onto him, releasing your cum over the front of his highs in a satisfying orgasm. Your back bows forward at the release and you’re left panting into the cushions. 

“Let me cum,” He weakly commands as he feels your slick coating him.

“Please, yes! Cum,” You moan, riding through your orgasm as he continues pumping into you. 

He bites down on your shoulder, his groan muffled between your skin as he climaxes into you. His cock twitches in you as he cum releases into the deepest part of your being. You feel as if your mind is full of cobwebs as he stays in you, keeping you full until his erection turns soft. 

The softness of your shared bed barely registers in your mind as he moves the two of you over. The blanket is placed over your naked bodies and he pulls you close. His lips press into your temple as he chants mantras of his devotion to you as you fall asleep in his arms a satisfied smile on his face. 

This time, Morpheus has learned his lesson as he stares adoringly at your peaceful face. How could he ever forget something like that?

D for Doggy ⇆ F for Face Sitting

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Time to get back to that angst fic, but we can enjoy this as like... a palate cleanser or something

I'm now on Ao3! The fics are very slowly getting added when I have the energy to. I never knew how in-depth the tagging system went and I get tired looking at it...

♡ Yours, Layla

[charliehoennam]

forever home

a/n: i rewatched the office and it was that episode where jim buys pam a house 🥰

pairing: william miller x f!reader

warnings: none (i think. i suck with tags, sorry), just fluff, not proofread so sorry for any typos

It's almost 11 p.m.

You're sat on the couch, trying to keep your tired eyes open as you watch a rerun of Hell's Kitchen.

With Gordon Ramsey's yelling and cursing in the background, you lift your phone once more to check for any new messages but there aren't any. You open up the chat with Will on the messaging app and reread his last text.

"Having one for the road. Be home in 20. Love you 💚"

You don't want to be one of those nagging fianceés, but the urge to text or call him is just bubbling inside. That was almost an hour ago and you're starting to get worried.

What if something happened to him on the drive home? What if he got into a fight at the bar?

It would be a surprise, but it wouldn't be the first time. Despite the progress he's had through therapy, you know how he can be impatient at times and a little hot-headed too. And maybe a little cocky too, although he would only let that side shine through at Benny's matches.

The trust you have in each other is the one of the main foundations that you've built your relationship on. Opportunities like these are essential to remind, not only you, but also himself of how far he's come.

You remind yourself of that when you hear a car pulling into the condo's parking lot downstairs. It takes all of your willpower to refrain from racing to the window to make sure it's really him. Truthfully, you just want to know if he's alright.

Will's tired legs slowly his heavy body up the single flight of stairs that led up to your small and shared condo apartment. His arms are so sore that he can barely hold the keys in his hand as he unlocks the door. He's never felt so tired, even on his deployments.

For the past 3 months, Will and his team have been working on a new house. He'd gotten into the business of buying and flipping houses which has been working out really well for him.

He loved being able to work with his hands and there is something just so gratifying to him about seeing something come together so beautifully after lots of sweat, work and a little bit of blood whenever he's accidently hurt himself. Will was usually very cautious, but accidents can happen to anyone.

You always supported him and his career since he'd expressed his desire to get into the business. You're thankful he did. Will's really good at what he does and he genuinely loves being so handy.

One of the other perks is getting to watch him in action. There's something so attractive about watching your fiancé slam a sledgehammer to a wall. Will knows you like watching him too, so he'll flaunt his muscles off whenever you come around to bring him some materials or sweet treats for the team.

However, this specific project has really been taking up most of his time and you just cannot wait until it's done and sold.

As usual, Will and the guys get together every Friday night to catch up, watch a game and shoot the shit. It's their own way of making sure everyone - particularly Tom ever since the divorce - are still hanging in there.

Opening the front door to the apartment, he steps inside and locks the door with a tired sigh before near the open plan kitchen to set his wallet and keys on the breakfast counter.

"Hey, baby. Sorry I'm late. Tom got a little carried away with the beers and I had to give him a ride."

"It's alright, honey," you yawn. "Did the guys get home alright?"

You look over the back of the couch and watch him kick off his dusty work boots at the door. His work jeans are tattered, splattered with dried old paint and wood varnish. The faded tan jacket is peeled off his body and hung up on a hook.

A mental note is made in your mind to convince him to buy new clothes when you go out the next time, although you know that'd be a bit of hassle since he's too stubborn to waste money on himself. It's nothing a batting of eyelashes can't handle.

"Yeah, sweetheart. The other guys just had a couple beers, but you know Tom," he struts over as he shares with you, bending down to kiss you hello and plops himself on the couch beside you, manspreading his legs as a arm drapes of your lap, hand stroking your thigh. "He's really going through it."

"I can imagine. You been talking to him?"

"I have, yeah. Invited him to the support group, but you know how he can be."

You nod adjusting to lean closer and thread your fingers through his hair. His blonde eyelashes flutter as he closes his eyes, instantly melting under your touch.

"Yeah, I know, baby. But don't give up. You never know. He might just show up one day."

"I know, sweetheart," he smiles before opening his eyes as his head turns to face you with a gentle squeeze to your thigh. "How was your day, beautiful?"

"Just the same ol'. Made your favorite for dinner though" you smile watching the exhaustion in his eyes slowly fade.

"Pesto chicken alfredo pasta?"

His blue gleam with hope. His pretty pink lips stretch into a wide smile behind the golden whiskers of his beard. You chuckle at how happy he gets when it comes to food.

You know it stems from the lack of indulgence during his deployments. Will's no fussy eater, but when he's home, he indulges when he can to make up for the barely edible chow he and the guys had to eat. Although tasteless and sometimes expired, Will never had any problems with it because he knew the purpose wasn't to be good, but to keep him alive.

That's why he quickly back up on his feet and striding towards the kitchen to heat a plate up for himself, leaving you to snicker at his excitement. If there's one thing that the Miller brothers share, it's their appetite for food.

"How's the house coming along?"

"We finally fucking finished, babe," he grins plating the cold food. "It looks so good though. I cannot wait for you to see it. You are going to love it." Of course. He built it with you and your tastes in mind. "Tomorrow, I'm taking you to see it."

"Really?" you grin.

Your opinion is very important to Will and he always comes to you when he's got doubts and is in need of a feminine point of view, so it's not exactly uncommon for him to bring you to his projects for a look-around.

The next morning, you find yourself in his car listening to No Excuses by Alice In Chains.

With nothing else to do, you sing along to the song as Will drives steadily

“Can I please take this thing off?” you ask adjusting the blindfold he’s got on you. “I don’t want cops pulling us over thinking you’re kidnapping me.”

“Baby, no one’s gonna pull us over” he chuckles at the thought. “We’re almost there.”

You try to focus on the sounds beyond the car in an attempt to locate where you are, but the catchy tune playing from the stereo makes it impossible. The only thing you know for certain is that you’re not in the city. The familiar salty scent strikes you as clear as day.

“Are we at the beach?” your voice fills with excitement.

“You’ll see soon enough. We’re here. I’m gonna help you out of the car, hold on.”

You can hear the smile he’s got plastered on his face. Will finds it cleverly adorable how you figured part of his surprise out already. it's not enough to ruin it though.

Just as promised, he opens the car door and takes your hand to carefully help you out of the car with kind instructions. You hold onto his hand as you settle on the stony driveway. Although from a distance, you can still hear the ocean waves quietly splashing on the shore.

"Take a look," he grins anxiously untying your blindfold.

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright light of the blue sky but, once it does, you freeze in awe of the house before you.

The mediterranean-style house is simple but large and elegant. Red Italian tiles and cream-colored paint exude a rustic and mysteriously familiar feeling that makes you feel at home.

Colorful flowers strategically planted grow in the grassy front lawn. Behind it, potted flowers sit on the low wall that encloses the small garden along the gated pathway to the door.

You and Will had talked about buying a house for a long time. Little did you know, Will had made a list in his precise mind of every little detail that you desired in your forever home.

"Will, this house is beautiful. You might have finally outdone yourself!"

He chuckles filled with relief and joy as he listens to you swoon over every small and carefully thought out detail of the exterior.

"C'mon, let's take a look."

He takes your hand and leads you up the pathwalk to unlock the door. You step inside the empty home and marvel at the space.

"Wow... It looks small from outside, but it's pretty big huh?"

"I thought so too. I kinda liked that about it."

"I love it! It's like a little illusion and then, you come in and it's just so much space," you grin roaming around each room slowly to take everything in.

"Do you like the windows?"

"Yeah, they're lovely. They really add to the mediterranean/contemporary vibe you got going on here. Can we see the kitchen? You know how much I love kitchens," you giggle excitedly.

"Of course. It's right over here."

"The floorplan is really nice and open too, huh? Oh, the sink! You installed the farmhouse sink! Undermount, too! The owners will love that."

Will smiles as he gazes at you, watching your reaction lovingly as you wander around the house and notice every tiny detail that Will spent countless hours pondering over to ensure you would have the house of your dreams.

The project cost him a pretty penny, but every single cent and drop of sweat he had spent investing into this home was certainly worth to see your eyes light up with every nook and cranny.

He led you to the backyard compete with a pool and beautiful stones and bright green plants that made it feel like your own little personal lagoon, with a wooden pathway that leads to a private gateway to the beach behind the house.

In truth, you feel like you're in paradise. You could spend every day in this house without the urge to leave it.

"So? What do you think?" he smiles holding your hips.

"I think this is your masterpiece, babe" you grin holding his strong biceps. "Do you have any buyers yet? I bet this will be the most expensive house you've sold yet."

"Actually, someone's already bought the place... This is ours."

You stare up at him in shock.

"A-Are you serious? You bought this place for us?"

"Mhm," he nods with a shit-eating grin. "The farmhouse sink, the red italian rooftop tiles, the little garden... It's everything that was on your list."

As tears fill your eyes, you hug him tightly and sniffle as your arms tighten around him. You want to thank him, but you're too speechless to say anything although your reaction says everything he needs to know.

You think back to all the long pillow talks you've had, where he'd casually asked you about little bits and pieces he should add to the project. You would have never guessed the project he'd been working on was your new home together.

The mere fact that Will had gone through so much trouble to make this house perfect to every desire makes your swell. Being designed by the love of your life is the finaal cherry on top.

"Thank you, Will," you mumble still stunned as you stare at your new backyard.

"Welcome home, babe."

[whumpback-wail]

05 - Divulgence

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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IMPORTANT NOTICE: Reminder that this fanfic contains dark and mature themes. The TW/CW are in the masterlist and are constantly updated as I add each chapter. Please reread the warnings, proceed only after you reread the warnings. If you don't like/can't handle the topics mentioned in the TW/CW, please DO NOT read. This work is 100000% fictional and any similarities to real life people and events are purely coincidental, and none of the characters (especially the villains) are real. Again, please DO NOT read if you are not certain you can handle these topics or are in a bad place mentally. Minors are strictly forbidden. I only create content, and I am not responsible for your personal content preference and moderation.

They say being pregnant means everyday is another day closer to meeting the love of your life. One anticipates meeting the fruit of their love with their spouse, looking forward to the bright sunshine days of taking care of that precious someone.

(y/n) did not understand that feeling. In fact she felt the exact opposite, as she slid down the walls of the bathroom, legs too weak to support her own weight. The pregnancy stick in her hand fell to the floor, bouncing to a stop face up, showing the positive sign. Why does this happen to her? What did she ever do to deserve this?

She has to call nurse Komaki, she will know what to do. The thing was still a cell after all, with no soul not consciousness, it should be perfectly fine. It would be so much more cruel to keep the innocent being and let it be born, only for them to later be neglected and unloved. No child deserves that. Not even one born from being forced into her womb by the person she despised the most.

It was nearing lunch, and she knew her fiancé would be back by then, he always makes time to have lunch with her. She has to tell nurse Komaki fast.

(y/n) took several deep breaths to calm herself, and then slowly got up to her bed again, pressing the call button.

A few moments later, she heard the door open.

"Nurse Komaki, I-" (y/n) turned her head, and came face to face with a different nurse altogether. It was not Komaki.

"I'm sorry, nurse Komaki is away right now, her shift will start later tonight. Is there anything I can help you with, miss (y/n)?"

(y/n) blinked back her tears, "n-no. It's okay, nothing too serious."

The nurse stood there, contemplating. "Are you sure miss?"

(y/n) nodded, racking her brain to think of an excuse or anything to justify calling a nurse to her room for nothing. "oh umm… may I have some water please?"

"Sure. It will be delivered here in a moment. Don't hesitate to call me if there's anything else that you need, okay?"

(y/n) hummed and thanked her. She watched as the nurse exit her room. She wanted Komaki, she's the only nurse (y/n) trusted at this moment, especially with something like this.

It wasn't long until the water is delivered to her room, which arrived at about the same time as Wriothesley.

He greeted her with a smile. It normally made her feel safe and loved, but right now, (y/n)'s heart sank to her stomach

"Hey, how's my sunshine doing?"

He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. Wriothesley knew he should be careful around her, as her therapist had suggested to him, at least until she is less jumpy and can initiate affectionate gestures more. So far she's taking his affections very well, which made him happy about her progress.

"As usual," (y/n) forced a smile, briefly looking into his eyes before quickly averting her gaze back to her hands. She picked at a loose string on her blanket. 

Speak more, he will notice something is off.

"The healers were a great help to my physical injuries. But they kept stopping after a little while, saying I should rest up because the sped up healing is also draining my energy."

Wriothesley nodded, "I was told, yeah. How's your stomach? Got anything you're craving to eat?"

(y/n) froze. "What?" She managed to not stammer, but her voice cracked as her heart was suddenly frozen with fear. Did he find out? How did he know-

"Just wondering how your stomach felt." Wriothesley tilted his head, confused. It was a small quirk she had found endearing.

"The doctors did say you can only eat soft food for a while to avoid refeeding syndrome, but yesterday you were finally allowed to start eating bread and some fowl. Also because you threw up yesterday."

"Oh…" (y/n) felt stupid, "it's alright now, although I don't really feel like eating."

Wriothesley watched her for a moment. He has always been someone perceptive, that's how he knew who to trust and who to avoid in meropide while still serving his sentence, and that's how he could rise through the ranks and become the duke, despite his humble beginnings. At that moment, something is off about his fiancée.

“Darling are you okay?” he took her hand in his, his other hand brushing loose strands of her hair behind her ear, “I feel like you have something weighing your mind. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

For a moment, (y/n) wavered. Is it really okay to tell him about her pregnancy? She knew Wriothesley wouldn’t blame her, after all, what happened was not something she wanted, far from it. So technically it’s not her fault right? But a small nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to just keep it to herself for now. There were too many what ifs. It’s safer to just keep quiet about it and deal with it under wraps. She’ll tell him, of course she will, but not now.

“I’m fine,” she forced herself to look into his eyes, a small smile on her lips. “Just wondering how much longer I have to stay cooped up in here.”

Lunch went well with Wriothesley, he told her about his day. He went back to the Fortress of Meropide for a while, to keep an eye on how things are going there, before coming over to her for lunch. After this he planned to proceed with investigations, and perhaps wrap things up early so he could spend more time with her after dinner.

(y/n) managed to eat a little more, despite the anxiety induced nausea, at least enough to not make her look suspicious.

Once lunch was over, Wriothesley gave her another peck on the forehead and left to continue with investigations, with promises of taking (y/n) to the gardens near the hospital once the doctors gave her the clear, and perhaps visit Navia and Neuvilette, as the two are also her friend, as much as they are to him. He wanted more than anything to stay with her the whole time she recovered, but seeing how she often flinched if he moved a little too quickly, or how her eyes often went blank as if she was not really there, he knew he had to do something about it. The therapist assigned to her told him that she may need some time to process through the trauma, and that it was natural that she would be jumpy for the time being, and would need some space too, as stifling her would also be bad for her mental wellbeing.

He already discussed all the options, and what’s best for (y/n). Once (y/n) has recovered some more physically, and once she is ready, he would take her home and nurse her back to health. He would appoint someone else as the Duke of Meropide if that was needed to get him more time off. Right now, he has something else to do.

He did not tell her that he would be going back to the facility, specifically the hidden passage they found inside her cell. Chlorinde had done a great job in capturing the man, living up to her title of champion duelist.

The entrance was so well hidden in the room, so much so that they had to get Aether to use his elemental sight to find. They had followed the hidden maze-like pathway in the room (y/n) was kept in, and it had led them to an underground base, perhaps their real base of operations. Several men were captured, including Dougier, they seem to work directly with Arderne who unfortunately was nowhere in sight. They were all taken into custody. Wriothesley tensed as he remembered their findings.

"Wriothesley you might want to see this." He turned his head towards Neuvilette who a moment ago was rummaging through papers on a desk. The Iudex now held out a file towards him, his face grim.

The Duke took the file and opened it. There were more papers, this time it contained more detailed reports of experiments done to the people. He ruffled through the pages, skimming the words for one specific name. He found it.

Experiment Clearance Form

Title: Vision Trial Variation 2

Principal Investigator: Il Dottore

Assistant: Arderne

Subject: 1102 a.k.a. (y/n)

Vision: Pyro

This form acknowledges the approval of the experiment titled "Vision Trial Variation 2" conducted by Arderne. The experiment aims to implement the theory of vision injections on humans, followed by observation to discover the effects.

The experiment poses high risks to participants. Potential risks include memory loss, increased body temperatures, seizures, and the possibility of death. Steps have been taken to mitigate these risks. Subject is physically weakened before the start to lower the chances of the body rejecting the injection, thus increasing the success rate of this experiment. On the occasion that this experiment would fail, the study will move on to Vision Trial Variation 3, and the current subject will be discarded.

Fuck.

“Did we find any traces of Arderne?” Wriothesley’s voice dropped several octaves, Neuvilette knew what this meant.

“There are none so far,” he placed a reassuring hand on Wriothesley, “But we do have Dougier now, and we are taking him and the others to custody. We can get more information out of them-”

Wriothesley shook him off and landed a harsh kick on a table to the side, immediately breaking it. He wanted to murder them all, especially that bastard Dottore. He had heard rumours of him doing crazy experiments, but to think it happened right here in Fontaine, with his fiancee? His breaths were shaky with barely controlled rage.

“Wriothesley, I understand how frustrating this is. (y/n) is also my dear friend.” Neuvilette spoke in the most soothing tone he could muster up. “Trust me, I am just as upset as you are in this, but we have to keep a level head. For (y/n)’s sake and all the victims that were forced into this.”

They were deep underground, had they been up on the surface, they would see heavy rain mixed with snow, and thunderstorms raging outside, the weather mirroring the Iudex’s inner turmoil on the entire situation.

• • •

(y/n) wondered if she was dead or dreaming the moment she saw herself on the familiar bed of her room in the facility. Dr Arderne was standing at the foot of her bed reading through the information on his clipboard, while Dougier was securing her arms and legs with restraints.

She had been too weak to resist, having been starved for days without food, the only nutrition she got was through her IV drip and glasses of suspiciously blue coloured water, which she had no choice but to drink.

"Good morning 1102, ready for the next dose? Arderne readied a syringe. It was filled with shimmery red liquid, the glow seemed to pulse the closer it gets to her.

"F-Fuck you Arderne." (y/n) managed to mumble, making Dougier snicker.

Arderne held (y/n)'s arm and injected the contents of the syringe into her. At first it felt like nothing, but gradually she could feel it start to burn, as if fire was coursing through her veins.

It wasn't long until the burning sensation started to feel unbearable. Hot white pain spreads from the point of injection to all over her body. She bit her tongue, trying not to scream, she will not give them the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. She won't-

(y/n) jolted awake, her breaths heavy and ragged and her heart was pounding in her chest. Fuck.

It was a dream. She was safe. It was just a dream.

The room she was in, despite being a hospital room, it was completely different from the facility, with flowers her friends and fiancé got for her, and the comforting weight of her big blubberbeast plushie that Wriothesley brought from their bed at home. She hugged the plush tightly and pressed her nose to its soft fur. It smelled just like Wriothesley, as he had sprayed his cologne all over it, something she often did even before… all this.

(y/n) tried to remember what her therapist had told her. 

My name is (y/n), I am at the Fontaine hospital, guarded by the Spina di Rosula, Wriothesley stays with me during the night, and stops by for lunch. I am safe, and I am recovering.

Her therapist told her that her dreams would eventually go away as her mind heals, but how long will that take?

Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was still early, too early for Wriothesley to come back from his investigation. He had left a book with her some days ago, which she picked up and started to read, trying to get her mind off things.

As she reached for the book on her night stand, suddenly (y/n) felt the familiar tingle in her hands, running all the way up her arms. It was warm and welcoming, it felt like home. A split second later, the book she was reaching for suddenly burst into flames.

• • •

Wriothesley watched Neuvilette from behind the one way glass as the latter asked Dougier more and more questions. The Iudex had presented all the evidence they found on the table. Laying it all out for Dougier as he asked question after question that Dougier only gave vague answers to, sometimes only responding with chuckles. The scum was a goner, his mind seemingly corrupted by the facility.

He wanted to be the one who personally interrogates the vile man, but Neuvilette had forbidden him from entering, for fear of what Wriothesley would do to the suspect. Still, watching from behind the glass was frustrating, he wished Neuvilette would let them do interrogations in Meropide, where it was outside Fontaine’s jurisdiction, so they could use other means to get information.

“This is going nowhere,” Wriothesley mumbled and pushed open the door leading into the interrogation room. Fuck the consequences, he’ll probably just get an earful from Neuvilette later.

At the sight of Wriothesley, Dougier’s eyes lit up in a nasty way that the Duke did not like at all. “Ah your Grace, here to play the bad cop now?”

“Seeing how you’re going nowhere with Neuvilette, I might as well do.”

Wriothesley grabbed the chair at the corner of the room and dragged it over to sit beside Neuvilette, who was glancing at Wriothesley cautiously.

“So do you feel like talking now Dougier? I thought you were a changed man after you were released.”

Dougier only scoffed, “then I had you fooled. You have no idea what kind of grudge I hold against you, Wriothesley. You ruined the community I built in Meropide.”

“Community? You call that community? You basically started a cult, and no one liked being in there.” Wriothesley scowled.

“Nevertheless,” Dougier continued, “I had my revenge. You should have heard how much (y/n) screamed when Arderne injected her vision into her.”

Wriothesley froze. He knew about what happened but hearing it from Dougier was different from reading it on the files they found.

Dougier, seeing the change in Wriothesley’s demeanour, continued. “She was a brave one, that bitch. Endured hours upon hours of our treatment, sometimes without anaesthesia. And that was after we put her in solitary confinement. We were wrong thinking we broke her spirit already, and yet she’s still fighting.”

"And you did this to all the people in the Vision Trials?" Neuvilette asked, the pen in his hand moving to take notes.

Dougier ignored him, his eyes still glued on Wriothesley's.

"How can we reverse the vision injections?" Wriothesley asked, trying to keep his breathing steady. He knew he couldn't try anything with Neuvilette around.

"You'll have to ask Arderne for that," Dougier leaned back on his chair, "but all I know is while (y/n) is still alive, she's a failure. She had her vision inside her yet it never seemed to work, not even when we prompted her."

"What do you mean prompted her?" Neuvilette asked, and this time, Dougier turned his eyes to him..

"Oh we threatened her, and when it didn't work, beat her, did whatever to make her call on her pyro element and use the vision in her. That never seemed to work."

Wriothesley and Neuvilette were tense, the former had his fists clenched so hard.

"That was when I took her to the basement, the cold weather should prompt the vision to at least keep her warm." Dougier turned to Wriothesley, a deranged look danced in his eyes as he smiled at him.

"I can see why you like 1102. She was so brave. She never once begged or called out for you even with all the beatings, that is, until I put my cock inside her-”

Suddenly Dougier was on the ground. Wriothesley had moved so fast Neuvilette barely registered him vaulting over the table and landing a fist on Dougier's face. He managed to hammer down his fists onto Dougier some more before he felt multiple hands pull him backwards off Dougier, who was unconscious in a bloodied mess.

"GET OFF ME." He yelled at the gardemeks who held him back, but Neuvilette soon stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Dougier who was being tended to by medics.

"Wriothesley," his voice was stern, "the punching can wait until after his sentence. If he is sentenced back to Meropide then it is under your jurisdiction."

Wriothesley was breathing heavily, "he… he also… Archons, (y/n)..."

"I already let you land several hits on him" Neuvilette placed a hand on his shoulder, "but we need him alive for more information on the case, and for his trials."

Wriothesley watched, seething with rage as Dougier was taken away by the medics for further treatment. He wanted the scum to suffer as much as, if not more than (y/n). How could anyone do this to her?

Neuvilette sighed and motioned for the gardemeks to release Wriothesley, "I think it's best if you go visit (y/n) for now. I think you two need to talk."

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(;;;*_*)--c<ノ°益°)ノ _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

A/N

…now I'm sad... why do I do this to myself :") wrote this while hugging my blåhaj because I needed that warm shorky embrace.

(Tuna says hi :D and hopes everyone is okay after reading this)

I apologize for the late update, some parts of the chapter had to be rewritten to make more sense, but in the end it became longer than I planned (and I had to cut it here and continue next chapter)

Thanks for sticking around this long, I hope the update hurt you all as much as it did for me to write :"))) please stay safe and take care, and hug your pets/plushies for me 💕

P.s. I’m not sure how to write a proper experiment clearance form TwT I hope that wasn’t too off.

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblrr @furblrwurblr @chifuyus-kitty @bunnibabe @the-real-fandom-person

[glazesunflower]

may i ask for some dating headcannons with focalors the hydro archon? :3

Dating Furina/Focalors Headcanons

Characters: Furina/Focalors x GN!Reader.

Warnings: None that apply!

Notes: I was waiting to play the first Fontaine Archon Quest to get a grasp of her character before writing this. I have to say, I absolutely love this gremlin and bratty Archon. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. (The last ones are my favorite <3)

Furina is flamboyant, imprudent and she lives for the thrill of the drama and the validation of those around her, so you’ll have to be very understanding and patient with her and the fair amount of mishaps that she will surely cause. So be prepared!

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She doesn’t really voice it, she’s too proud for that, but she absolutely loves the way you’ve become her anchor, helping to balance out her impulsive nature with your calm and understanding demeanor. When she's on the brink of making a hasty decision, you're there to gently guide her, reminding her to consider all perspectives and consequences before acting. And she takes your advice to heart, be proud of that!

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She struggles internally a lot with the pressure of her public image. Of course, she doesn’t say this directly to you, but you can see how it affects her, and so you write for her heartfelt letters whenever she's facing a tough situation. She doesn’t really make much of a fuss about them, but internally your words of encouragement and reminders of her strengths become her source of comfort, and she rereads them many more times than she’s willing to admit. She even has a special box where she keeps them all. But don’t ask her about it!

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But it’s not all sappy stuff, your relationship with her is very adventurous and fun! Furina absolutely loves a good thrill and an outstanding performance in everything she does, so you’re of course expected to tag along in all of her endeavors. Whether it's exploring a new case that’s just taken place, trying out quirky local restaurants, or taking impromptu road trips through Fontaine, you both find joy in the thrill of the new things you try together!

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Furina absolutely thrives on positive attention and affirmation. She is always very touched by your heartfelt compliments and words of encouragement (she probably won’t say it, mind you, but she would engrave your words in her mind to always come back to them). Express your admiration for her skills, charisma, and unique qualities and Furina will glow, feeling appreciated and loved. Keep them coming, she can’t get enough!

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After some time of her being with you, Furina will slowly (and I mean, very slowly) feel comfortable enough with letting her guard down around you. And that is no easy feat! She’s constantly thinking that she will be judged by whatever she says wrong, so you should feel immensely lucky that she’s willing to trust you with her innermost turmoils! (Her words.) In time, you create a safe space where she can express her insecurities without fear of judgment, because you’re kind like that and you love her. You encourage Furina to have a ton of heartfelt conversations, and slowly you help her understand that she doesn't have to be perfect to be loved. It’s still a work in progress, but she’ll get there.

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Furina is a sucker for gifts. After all, what better way for others to express their admiration for her, right? But the ones she loves the most are yours, of course. The gifts and tokens of your affection hold special meanings, since you picked them out knowing she’d like them. Like a charm to remind her of her resilience or a piece of art that reflects her flamboyant personality and you thought, “Oh, this reminds me of her!”. Keep doing that. She can’t get enough of it.

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Knowing how much she loves and treasures positive attention, you organize surprise events or gatherings to celebrate Furina’s accomplishments, no matter how small they are. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it (She deserves all the praise and attention, after all!), but you see the brightest smile dancing on her lips the whole day, and that’s how you see how much she values these moments. These thoughtful gestures show Furina that you genuinely appreciate her efforts and want to support her in all aspects of her life. She will try even harder this time, if only for you to praise her more.

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Your relationship with her is also full of laughter. You tease each other constantly, at all times, sharing inside jokes, and find humor in the quirks of everyday life together. Furina knows you have an ability to make her smile even in challenging times and she silently appreciates you so much for her. Still, you tease her too much. And she is the embodiment of the divine, she can’t have you teasing her in public!

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With the passing of the time by your side (and I mean, at a very slow pace!), Furina starts to overcome her need for constant validation from others. She slowly becomes more confident in her abilities in the court and outside of it, and she learns to embrace her imperfections (her impulsivity, childlike temper, the constant bravado and drama, the list goes on!), understanding that you love her for who she truly is. Really, how could you not? She’s impressive and heavenly! It’s only natural you’re head over heels and completely in love with her! (She’s working on her arrogance, too).

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Furina loves the spotlight more than anything else in the world (well, she only likes you more, and that’s saying something!), so sometimes you plan extravagant date nights that cater to her love for the spotlight. Whether it's a private outdoor performance under the stars or a playful evening of reenacting dramatic scenes from her favorite plays, you keep the excitement alive for her. And she thrives in every minute of it.

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When it comes to physical touch, Furina is by far not used to it at the very beginning, so she’s fairly unsure when it comes to it. But she’s quick to realize that your gentle pats on her back, walking around with linked arms, or even a reassuring touch on her shoulder during moments of stress in the courtroom make her feel so much better instantly! Is this some kind of heavenly magic? 

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Furina quickly starts to associate your touch with positive emotions. Holding hands with you during a thrilling adventure or wrapping an arm around your waist while watching a dramatic play becomes something she really, really likes doing. 

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And when you introduce cuddling to her, Furina finds a whole new world to explore and enjoy. Whether it's lounging on your couch or stargazing, Furina wants to be in your arms at all times, if she has any say in the matter! Let her nuzzle into your neck and stay there for a while, she feels the safest she’s ever felt.

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Furina enjoys your touch very much. She does not enjoy, however, how you playfully tease her with light touches, tickles, and gentle bumps! She’s the embodiment of justice, you can’t just have her wiggling and choking on laughter beneath you, how unsightly! (She absolutely loves it).

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Furina has associated your touch with comfort and safety, so don’t be surprised when she comes to you after an especially hard day. Yes, she messed up in the courtroom today, but you’ll let her rest against you, won’t you? Your hugs and embraces become her safe haven. Sometimes she will open up and admit what happened that day. Others, she simply wants to enjoy your arms holding her tight in silence. In either case, she deeply appreciates you being there for her. She won’t voice it, of course, but you’ll know in the way she presses her forehead closer to you and the angle of your neck.

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She also finds that physical touch is very useful! She starts using her own touch on you as a way to express her emotions. A soft kiss on your cheek in the morning, a warm hug after a long day, or even a surprise tackle or an affectionate nudge as you tease each other becomes her way of saying "I care about you" without needing dramatic and flamboyant words. How practical! She will keep showering you with her divine affection for many more years to come!

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Having Furina as a significant other is no easy feat, it takes a lot of courage, determination, and most of all, a big amount of patience and understanding. Still, she is the most vibrant and colorful part of your life, so you wouldn’t have it any other way. With her, you become her partner in both the thrilling moments and the challenges of her life. Your love and support help her navigate her insecurities and embrace her true self, helping to nurture a romance that's passionate and tender and all the beautiful things in between.

If you enjoyed this, please consider liking or reblogging it <3!

You can check more of my writing on (this link!). Thank you!

[mazzystar24]

I totally get I just finished my exam week (I had to do a math test at 8am Sat😭). Wish you luck tho!

Also do you have any good buddies fics? Destiel too?

Math test at 8am is BRUTAL

Thank you I will definitely need it😭😭

Unfortunately I only have buddie fics to offer😔:

(Warning I do like a fair amount of angst)

Right where you left me - by hyacinthusbloom ( @thebloomingheather on here) - when I say I might be as big a fan of this fic as I am of the show I MEAN IT, you do not even understand how much I love this fic or how obsessed I am with it, I have reread it so many times despite it still being in progress that I think I may genuinely qualify it as addictive, me and @estheticpotaeto legit wait for updates like a dog at the author’s door istg, like everything about this fic is flawless and written with so much love and emotion and the way the writer captures the effects of trauma is just amazing because it’s so rare to find this level of diving into ptsd and the more uncomfortable aspects of it that are more taboo or less understandable to people, like I can yap for an hour about this fic but I’ll just say READ IT

Any fic by daisies_and_briars ( @cal-daisies-and-briars on here) but one of my favourites of his is Both blade and branch and muscle memory and four can keep a secret and appetency and the two she’s writing right now (change the prophecy and steal my sunshine) -wow at that point I should’ve left it as any fic because that’s a lot of favourites😭😭

Any fic by @loserdiaz plus with them you get enough lighthearted fics to even out the angst

Ooo I’m not sure what their username on here is but lizzybizzyzz is also another writer who I just love their fics

Fractals by hobbitprincess - one of those fics that make you squeak at how much love these fictional characters have for each other

Beneath my mother tongue by archerincombat - the angst the writing the way they hit every single emotional beat? Amazing

Anything by this_is_moony_lovegood

Leave the light on (I’ll be coming home) by HMSLusitania - the presumed dead Eddie fic of your dreams, a constant reread for me it’s just 👌

Anchored by adorkable_buddie - sorry Chris you gotta be injured sometimes just for us to get our buddie dreams hope you understand and we appreciate your sacrifice 😔🫶

empty, broken, lonely, hoping by daniweb - when I tell you I love the presumed dead trope you best believe I’m telling the truth because the ANGST?? Yes please, LISTEN it’s the closest you can get to the emotional beats of killing off a character without ever killing them off because you love them and happy endings too much so TIM MINEAR TAKE NOTES I KNOW YOU SAID YOU LOVE THEM TOO MUCH TO KILL THEM, anyways back to to the point this fic again is just flawless execution by the writer like absolutely love it

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by withmeornotatall - emotional destruction and I absolutely love it, divorce era 2.0 and it HITS

Home is where it hurts- by rileyblue2001 - can you tell I hate the Buckley parents because I HATE the Buckley parents

The one with the return of the sex addiction by buddiefication (pumpkincreamcoldbrew) - I’ve reccomended so much angst so have a funny little light hearted buddie fic with the father bobby vibes we all love❤️❤️

Okay back to the angst tho 😭😭- out of ashes by Ashavahishta - AHHHHHHH THIS FIC JUST AHHHHH STOP THE WAY I WOULD DIE FOR A FOLLOW UP FIC TO THIS AHHHH I LOVE IT SM AND ITS LEGIT A ONE SHOT I CRIED SO HARD

Falling Slowly; Sing Your Melody (I’ll Sing It Loud) by Princessfbi ( @princessfbi on here who I also love sm of their fics so highly suggest just going on their page and looking through all the fics) - absolutely love it, legit gave me brain rot and got me obsessed for a GOOD while

I'm comin' back, don't let me go by wikiangela ( @wikiangela on here also love love their fics again so check them out but this one is probably my favourite of theirs)

Okay this is looking more and more like a uni reading list so I’m gonna shut up now but I hope you enjoy these fics and that a few of them emotionally damage you like they did me because I love to spread the joy (see: pain and suffering) 🫶🫶

[ponett]

Was rereading your FFXVI article the other day and I got curious to know why you don’t like Bravely Default and Octopath. I agree that Octopath is a tedious dumpster fire, but I quite liked the Bravely series apart from That One Bit of Default (and also the entirety of BD2, which plays a lot more like Octopath and is therefore dogshit). I’d be interested to hear your thoughts in more detail, if you’re willing to share?

I will definitely say that I liked what I played of Bravely Default 1 (the only one of the Bravely games I've touched) better than Octopath 1. It's not the worst. I can see how people who are more patient with it can get a lot out of it. I think most of my problems with it mainly come down to pacing. The story takes a long time to go anywhere, and the writing along the way didn't grab me. (Ringabel's constant womanizing certainly didn't help.) You unlock additional jobs slowly. It felt like I had to stop and grind a lot, either to level my jobs or just to have enough gold to buy shit. Compared to the whirlwind pace of the classic FFs it was riffing on, it felt like I was making very little progress during the time I played

But the thing that really bothered me is that, even in the early game, bosses are massive damage sponges with tons of HP that take forever to fight. My casters would run out of MP halfway through the fight, and because of how rare and expensive ethers were I'd have no way to restore their MP, so I'd just limp along to the end of the fight without magic. It was miserable. Most old school JRPGs are also pretty strict about MP recovery items, sure, but in those games boss fights tend to be MUCH shorter until later in the game, and they're generally designed so that going in with a full HP/MP party already puts you at an advantage. Those games also have items like tents so that you can restore your party at save points, whereas Bravely seemingly just expects you to turn off encounters and walk all the way back to the nearest inn. These are VERY strange design decisions in a game that's trying so hard to be accessible and low-friction, to the point that you can just turn off random encounters whenever you want. This balancing feels like the worst of both worlds when it comes to classic and modern JRPG design

I can pinpoint the exact moment in the story that was my last straw, though, about six hours into the game. I took a photo of it. It was this:

In a better story, I could roll my eyes at this line and move on. But I was already having a generally unpleasant time, and the story felt like it had barely gone anywhere in six whole hours. (By that point in FF6 you could be nearing the opera!! In Chrono Trigger you'd probably be in Magus' friggin' castle!!!!!) So I decided it was time to cut my losses

I took this as an opportunity to just go and play FF5, rather than a modern game that's imitating it. I still need to actually beat FF5 someday (I am terrible about finishing long games because ADHD etc. etc.), but god, I loved what I played of it, and it really just highlighted how much better it is than Bravely Default. WAY better story pacing, way better bosses, you unlock the jobs way quicker, the party is way more likeable. It was still a game where I found myself grinding, but in FF5 it felt like I was actively making the choice to invest time in my character builds because I was having fun with those systems, rather than feeling forced to grind for gold or whatever

TL;DR the moral of this story is that everyone should play FF5

[brick-van-dyke]

Some Thoughts on the 'Writing Process'™

So I see a lot of writers struggle with these very specific things, AKA:

The Staring at the Blank Page Thing where you struggle to come up with ideas, words, etc

The Word Counting Counting where you cannot stop counting your word count

The 'Can Someone ELSE Proofread This Because I Don't Want to Read It' dilemma

The 'How Do I STOP Hating Everything I Write' issue which also leads into the 'How Do I Stop Scrapping Everything' issue

And finally the 'I DONT WANT TO WRITE I WANT TO IMAGINE IT INSTEAD' problem

There are various things that can make writing hard, but I have had some thoughts! And maybe they might just be useful.

So for Issue Number 1, I've found that, if you want to write, NEVER do it before you already have the ideas. Looking at a blank page just makes it harder. You get bored and that makes writing feel boring. Of course, this is all just my opinion, maybe this actually works for you. BUT! In my own personal experience, I find that actually LIMITING how often I open my document helps a bunch. No matter how much you wanna write, there's no point torturing yourself over how little you're doing and shaming or pressuring yourself to get it done. Punishing yourself is just gonna kill your inspiration and, obviously, you're not going to want to write if you now associate it with punishment for not writing. It's a cycle of just being mean to yourself. Well, don't wanna be unproductive? As silly and counterproductive as it sounds; self care is the answer which I've found that actually works.

This actually leads into Issue Number 2. I think these probably stem from the same issue; punishing yourself for not producing. Again, punishing yourself and shaming yourself into just staring at a blank screen or staring at how little the word count is or how much you have to go until your goal is just going to kill your inspiration and make you bored. Shaming doesn't get you to write more, or faster or suddenly become more productive. Believe it or not? Self care and making it fun is what makes a fun story come to life. You're not just writing a block of text that's a recount to sell in this capitalist hellhole (I mean you are but that doesn't mean the process has to be bound by capitalism because FUCK CAPITALISM), you're writing a story you wanna tell; focus on the story before the method and don't punish yourself for it not just magically appearing. These things take time, they take trial, error, mistakes and various drafts, but FIRST? They take those little moments where you just daydream scenes and the imagination you have to exist at all. Focus first on the story and your own health and the rest will come, slowly but surely. Anyway that was a lot of words to essentially just say; don't look at the word count, focus on the story and the length will follow regardless. It's fine to check and obviously, you'll just have to at some point. But please please try and do what you can to avoid checking, even use a different method. I use page count because it's so varied and inaccurate that it actually doesn't matter and just tricks my brain into using that to see my very general progress and makes it seem bigger than it actually is. It also can just be easier to check at a glance if I want to make sure the structure of each chapter is more or less consistent enough.

Issue Number 3 is tricky, mostly because once you've made something, it can be legitimately very boring to reread everything you JUST wrote. For me, I'm sort of chaotic in that I reread as I go or do it very randomly and rewrite as I come up with things. The good thing is though that what you write isn't set in stone. It's malleable and fluid. I always have a cut and paste section on my computer where I just... cut and page and rearrange things as I think of it. I don't worry about "oh but what if I mess up" because you're ALWAYS gonna mess up! That's actually one of the cool things about writing, you CAN mess up and go back and reread it eventually to make it work a bit better after all the other chaotic going-back-and-fixing-things. Which brings me to my main point (especially if you don't want to replicate my chaoticness) I try to leave proofreading itself as much as I can for the end of it all. As in, I just let myself write, yes rearranging and going back whenever I want, but never throwing anything OUT, never scrapping the whole document because it's gonna have bits you might reuse. And more to the point, it gives you a lose skeleton to base your next draft on. It's more work but I find it really reassuring in that you don't judge every little thing as you go, but just say "meh, fuck it!" and write whatever works, then rewrite it in a separate document all over again, never deleting the last one so you can copy and page whatever you liked from the first draft, or second, or third, and use each mistake and flaw. Recycling is good folks, even just in writing. Or... at least it is for me. If this doesn't work for you, it doesn't work for you, but this is just what helps me so maybe it might help you too.

This also goes into Issue Number 4. Honestly, you're never gonna not be your biggest critic. But! You can at least make your work feel a bit more positive and go in with a "eh who cares?" mindset into writing. It may not erase the "wow this is hot garbage" feeling, but it'll feel a bit more like "well this is MY hot garbage and I don't care if it's bad or good, because at least it was fun". Plus, like I said; recycling is very good. The best way to force yourself not to hate something is to get really damn used to it, AKA, never getting rid of it. Which is hard, I know. Especially if you just really freaking hate it. And, well, it's not like I'm saying you should keep absolutely every little thing, I don't want you all to get clutter and folders upon folders of stuff you won't use...buuut I am saying it helps to keep things and get comfortable in your own messiness and imperfection. It starts to feel normal at least, or for me it does, and slowly you kind of just...accept it. Also, making fun little things to enjoy your ideas away from your writing itself. If you draw? Make fanart. Maybe even make AUs in your head. Maybe make some mood boards. HYPE YOURSELF UP! Or as best you can at least, and never force things. If you aren't feeling this particular story right now? Move on to another project and yes having WIPs can be annoying but sometimes it's necessary. Again, these are all just my opinions and stuff I do when I struggle with these; I'm not commanding anyone to do anything and as always, maybe this won't work for you personally. But hey, doesn't hurt to give it a try first and see if it works, or maybe something else will. Whatever the case, this is just my own two cents.

And finally, Number 5. Honestly? This isn't so much as issue in and of itself as much as just an issue of prioritisation. Imagination is the most important part of even coming up with a story to begin with and, honestly, imagining scenes can really help build a mental image of what you want to describe and how things look and feel. One thing, a little cheat code you could say, that I've found is melding daydreaming with research. Which makes absolutely no sense since this is the most funnest part with the most boring part of writing, but hey, it works surprisingly well I assure you. So here's the setup I have; no doc (except for if I really need to jot down some notes), then images that remind me of my work (Pinterest boards maybe, a few mood boards, etc), then the research. I go between each of these; daydreaming. The result? I imagine scenes with the research I want; motifs that work with themes, imagery to use in scenes, what architecture works, what the weapons look like. Then, before I even write, I go back and still daydream WITH what I've researched and it sticks in my mind way better than even the notes I've made. Speaking of, with notes, I like to doodle in the margins of them, make them fun, highlight with fun colours. Sometimes? Research, note taking and writing doesn't have to be work in and of itself, sometimes it can be fun and a little quest of your own. Sometimes making writing and research feel like you're daydreaming can make all the difference between begrudgingly slugging through a chapter, or just having fun writing a new scene you just imagined and that starts to form into something new and exciting.

TLDR: Make writing fun! Like Mary Poppins once said; "a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down". Sometimes it's actually better to make the work into a treat instead of using a treat as a bribe or punishing yourself. In fact, making any part of the process into a punishment for not working just makes everything harder.

ALSO! Just in general, take breaks! It's easy to forget what you're doing (especially once it becomes fun) and forget to take care of yourself both physically and mentally. Too much time looking at a screen (or even just a page) can be straining! Remember to eat! Remember to drink water and sleep! Get up and walk around if you can, go to the bathroom and maybe even go for a little walk outside and get some Vitamin D if you're able to. Remember to maybe take a few days away from writing so you can come at it again with a refreshed mind and new perspective, sometimes you can get boggled down and start getting too focused on one little thing. It's good to let yourself have half an hour, an hour or even a few days to just refresh and go out and get new inspiration just from living. Sometimes the key to writing and ideas is to just stop writing for a bit and to just take a breath.

[chimkin-samich]

Hi!

I have had a block for both writing and drawing for several years. I look at your works with longing in my eyes and think how wonderful it would be to draw regularly again. I was never particularly talented and had many gaps in learning to draw, but I enjoyed it. Now I don't know how to start drawing or writing. My laptop is full of unfinished stories. I have lots of ideas for drawings, but it's hard for me to get down to work.

Therefore, my question is: Do you have any advice for people who haven't drawn/written for several years and would really like to get back to it, but can't motivate themselves, have no ideas, etc.? Or quite the opposite. They have lots of ideas, but for some reason they can't draw anything?

Greetings and have a nice morning/day/evening/night!

Hello! Sorry it took so long to respond, I wanted to make sure I could respond properly to this so I thought it over a lot, I’m going to put it under a read more cuz it’s gonna get long lol

I (sly) am kinda in the same position as you at least when it comes more to art, writing ive kinda cracked the block but still trying to break through the ice, all the art on our blog is Ferals art, I only complete the line work and shading (but not always) I haven’t drawn any of my own stuff in probably a few years but I’m trying to get back into it cuz I miss it as well, I completely get the whole feeling of looking at Feral’s art and wanting to create my own but finding it so difficult to do

For the art aspect my plan is to start at square 1, start how I first starting drawing, which for me was to look up refs, animals and draw them by sight, just to get back into the groove of trying to bring back that muscle memory, maybe you started by tracing images, you could trace only the rough outlines and then shade and detail them, just something simply and easy, you probably won’t be happy with the results (I know I certainly won’t be with my own) but it’s a start

Look up things that you enjoy, draw your squad, incorrect quotes to do with ocs maybe even draw them out, try and keep it simple, you don’t need to create a masterpiece on the first day back, any attempt is a step forward even if you dislike it, try it out at least once a day everyday, a simple doodle just for fun or to exercise your muscle memory again, the first part is gonna be hard and messy, that’s totally ok! All that matters is the attempt!

For the writing aspect try and keep it simple as well, focus on making short one-shots or even just bullet point dialogues, your old unfinished writing isn’t going anywhere, when you feel comfortable enough to attempt to continue it just go for it!

I had a big gap in my writing periods and sometimes I still go a few months with out touching any of my stories, blocks happen and are normal, something that I try to get back into is read other people’s work, both to see the writing style and to get some inspiration to continue my own works

When I actually get down to actually writing my story I just dump down the story as I think it, I just keep writing even if it looks messy and grammatically incorrect to at least get the story moving and progressing. After I have the rough story down, is when I go back to correct spelling mistakes, add more details/dialogues or events in between to create a much better flow for the story

I usually do this multiple times for each fic I create, usually in between pauses (either due to blanking on ideas or just cuz I wasn’t feeling it) so whenever I reopen my doc, I just reread and add on, then I do it again one or two more times once it’s completed

I struggle a lot with perfectionism when it comes to my art and writing, and unfortunately it’s a big killer for my motivation, especially when I see others that make better works than me. I’ve been slowly unlearning that urge to make everything perfect, by just allowing myself to have messy and rough works, it’s not always going to come out how I want it but at least I got it as close as I could in the moment with my current skill level

I like to tell myself, the more I keep doing it, the more I’ll improve, and I’ll always be able to come back with more ideas and skill to remake this better than my first attempts, just because I did it doesn’t mean I can’t try to do it again

Being easier on yourself does wonders (I know easier said than done unfortunately 😭) but your practically having to relearn skills that have gotten rusty, even if you were doing great before, your gonna have to build back up to that point, it’s just like exercising a muscle ✨

I hope this was able to help! I wish you much luck in your journey back into art and writing!

[additiva]

oh god. i’ve read frechheit since it was only the first chapter out and i remember thinking: fuck i hope i survive long enough to read until the end of this fic because it’s just THAT good. for a little unnecessary background, i was a freshman going through my second semester and struggling with a lot of things but i’d always drop everything whenever i saw frechheit update.

i saw how the chapter count gradually went up as you kept updating, and i loved the progression of each chapter. your characterizations are by far some of the best i’ve ever read in any fandom. you nailed their mannerisms and speaking styles! and i love the way you write charles and max. it hits the spot so well. because very often you will find people saying that “oh charles is a golden retriever and max is the black cat” or “oh charles is the sunshine and max is the midnight rain” when the facts are that charles literally pushed max off as a kid and since then he’s been on a revenge spree to make sure max regrets it. max literally apologizes to charles even when he doesn’t do it to anybody else because he knows charles can hold a grudge. this is the same charles who max pushed off in austria 2019 and then got back at him in silverstone going “oh so that was racing? i’ll show you racing *insert angry hissy cat noises*”

i just love how max slowly goes from absolutely loathing charles’s little schemes to then understanding them and then finally getting roped into them. at the final few chapters it was so cute seeing max excited to be involved in charles’s manipulation tactics like that’s HIS baby with HIS evil schemes…

there’s so many things to love about this fic but ultimately it boils down to how well you write them. how, even in an alternate universe where charles is younger than max, they both start out hating each other, before falling absolutely, indeniably, irrevocably in love with each other. i love the way they grow individually and as partners—the way charles goes from angry hissy cat who has to do everything himself, to an angry hissy cat with his boyfriend who would give up the world for him. i love the way they love—charles learning to open up to max, max learning how to be patient with charles; charles always being there for max, and max slowly coping and coming to terms with losing at the end. the last one especially—those paragraphs of max detailing how it had been hard to stomach his slow defeat, but then when charles won he’d just been. Happy. he was willing to give everything up realizing winning wasn’t everything because he’d already found his everything.

and that’s just it, isn’t it? throughout the fic, charles and max learn to accept having to lose themselves before they reap the sweet sweet taste of victory at the end. winning isn’t everything anymore because now they’ve found each other and the best part is that they can win by each other’s side.

thank you for this amazing fic. like. honestly. i will love this forever. one of the best fanfics i’ve ever read in years.

P.S. i also found it very amusing when the fic mentioned a year where both charles and max suffered issues and the wdc ended up going to oscar and they both were cheerful but also. Yeah. Let’s never let that happen again. i bet they terrorized the grid for so long hogging the podium places, the wdc standings, and the wdc trophies that eventually the cooldown room gets called the lestappen podcast and each week the drivers get roped into becoming either 1) their unwilling third wheel, 2) their unwilling couples’ therapist for when they’re angry about trivial things like max accidentally making charles fall asleep without making him do his skincare routine, or 3) their unwilling child (ollie bearman).

Omg amazing.

This is the kind of message I save so I can reread it many times 🤍

It's so nice hearing from people who went through the whole journey with me since the earliest chapters. You truly saw the whole evolution.

I'm so glad it could bring you some joy when you were going through things. I hope things have improved for you, you deserve only the best. You're clearly a person who goes out of their way to brighten someone else's day and I hope you get the same energy back.

Also *angry hissy cat* is the perfect description for Frech-Charles at so many points in the fic I picture him this way exactly.

I hope you didn't mind me increasing the chapter count so many times 😅 I was truly winging the fic, based on vibes and a few key plot elements. You could probably tell lol.

[13tinysocks]

FAQ because fags ask questions.

Gimmie the basics

I'm Rea, 21, butch bulldyke, I live with and am dating my coauthor @itsabee pronouns ??? She her I guess???? Art account @11largesocks

Wait are you seriously a lesbian?

Yes. I hold no attraction to men fictional or real. I think playing Barbie with them is just really fun.

Where can I find your fics?

Avaliable on Ao3 (linked) or on Quotev (just search the titles you should find us)

Spill Your Guts - proxies x reader - completed

The Hunt Is On - EJ, Jane, Clockwork x reader - completed

You'll Catch Your Death - proxies x reader - completed

House Of 1000 Corpses - various creepypasta x reader - in progress

Uhm? Tag slurs?

Can you give me writing advice?

No🤗

Can I make fanart/fanfic based off your interpretations of the cpp characters?

Yes of course I don't own them at all and I'm happy to inspire others to get creative!! Tag us if you ever do anything like that!!

Check my #writing tag. Anything unanswered free to ask.

How do you write so much?

What do you listen to while writing?

Idk I got autism powers. Also making writing even a little everyday as a goal is a good way to form a long term habit of doing it every day.

What does the average chapter of your fics go through before being published?

A lot more than people think that's for sure! We pre draft our fics general plot and major events before starting. As for chapters: Abby and I write an outline together. Once completed I will write the chapter. After that Abby goes through to fix character interactions, add depth, and fix my awful spelling mistakes. I then go over Abby's edits and completely reread the chapter to make sure it's cohesive. Give it a silly name and add a song that's related to the vibe and then she's live, baby.

Mostly Pup, Rob Zombie, TPOF's soundtrack, Harley Poe. Sets the mood for the type of stuff I write.

What do you call each fic YN?

We named each of our yn's to refer to them more easily. Syg yn is Ryan. Thio yn is Dylan. Ycyd yn is Dianne. Ho1c yn is Joan.

When is the published version of spill your guts coming out?

No idea. It needs to be drafted and redrafted, edited and reedited, and then I gotta query for agents.

Spill your guts is getting a published version??

Yes! However because of bad writing and copyright it is being completely overhauled. The story is mostly the same but better. The characters are different. Goober is even goobier. It will be split into two to three novels due to word count restrictions.

Head cannons?

I'm not a matchup, head cannon, or mini fic blog. I talk about my fics mostly. If you have questions about those fics I'm happy to answer.

Will you be writing more fanfiction?

Yes I am currently writing house of 1000 courses with Abby. It's our take on a various x reader and mansion fic. It will update slowly. We are both busy and trying to focus on the book.

Why haven't you answered my ask?

I've been getting a huge influx of asks recently and it's hard to take the time to answer all of them. Sometimes I just need to think on it, other times I don't know quite how to respond. I appreciate your kindness and curiosity but I am just a regular guy.

Kys

Thank you

Is there anywhere to support you and Abby?

Our Kofi

Our Etsy

[linmeiwei]

Hi Lin! I'm rereading your stories —how good is Murder at Rosings???????—and I was wondering two things:

have you any updates on forthcoming projects you would share?

and

Have you thought about making audiobooks of your stories?

Hope you're doing well x

Thank you! :)

Re progress, I've got a completed draft that is currently awaiting revision. And while it does so I'm writing another novel as well, though that one is in draft stage. It is going painfully slowly unfortunately, because I work full time and have a kindergartner to watch when I'm not working.

I'm not really sure about audiobooks! I'd be super keen to have it done, of course, if I could get hold of the sort of reader who could make it sound right, but I don't think I'd have the means. To be honest, I've never looked into it. But I think I'd rather not to do it at all than have it done badly. Happy to get advice from those who have experience of the process?

I hope you're doing well too! :)

[cosmicjoke]

hi this is the same anon about the acwnr ask! im glad i decided to resend the ask because i loved your insight and it made a lot of sense to me! so, thank you for answering <3 i also have another question, which i think you may have answered before in the past, but im not entirely sure so i apologize if you've answered this already. i saw a few asks you answered recently about erwin's role in acwnr and it really opened my eyes more to erwin as a character and his mindset. i also reread the manga recently and i remembered how differently erwin's speech at the end was handle in the anime and i wanted to know which you prefer/seems more like erwin. im not sure if isayama wrote acwnr or not so im not entirely sure which accurately depicts erwin during that moment.

No worries! I'm glad to answer any questions you might have!

The general consensus seems to be that Erwin's speech in the manga is the one that hues closest to Erwin's actual character. A lot of people criticize the OVA for making Erwin colder than he is in the manga, either the main one or the "No Regrets" one. Isayama didn't write "No Regrets", but I suspect he had input on the graphic novel, because Levi's characterization in particular is much better than it was in the visual novel that the manga was initially based on. Isayama also conducted an interview with the artist on the manga, which is included in the back of the collected edition of it. I really like the OVA, despite some people bad-mouthing it, lol. I thought it was really well done, and I really liked some of the additional scenes, like the one of Levi telling Furlan and Isabel that they aren't going on the first mission outside the walls and he grows visibly upset and frustrated when they fight him on it. That's very in character for Levi, to try and protect them as best he can. Most of the criticism seems to come from it's characterization of Erwin and from them having to cut several scenes due to probably time and budget constraints. Otherwise I think it's very well done, but Erwin definitely comes across much meaner and cold hearted in the OVA than he normally would. In certain scenes, he's downright dismissive toward Levi and seemingly not very sympathetic to his pain. I think in the manga, at the beginning, Erwin came across that way, but as the story progressed, he slowly became less cold toward Levi. So when discussing "No Regrets" in relation to actual canon, I always refer to the manga and nothing else.

I wrote a super long chapter by chapter analysis of "No Regrets", if you're interested in a more in depth examination of it, which you can read here:

[popcornforone]

The Speed of Silence

Mr Ben Fan Fic

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

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

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

Word count: 5,700

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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