#writing sequels

[3hks]

hi, I'm writing a book right now and I know it will take more than 2 books. I'm one third of the way finished with the first book but I already know that the second book will introduce another cast of characters. I really want to write about those characters and want to start on the sequel more than the first book. Do you have any tips or advice?

Hello! Thank you so much for asking! I'll be honest; I haven't received many questions about this topic, but here is my advice! For starters, I personally would wait until I finished the first book. However, you mentioned that there is another cast and if the second book works as a standalone, I wouldn't be against starting it early.

When it comes to writing sequels, it's important to have a good idea of how all the books will come together and the arcs that connect them! Since it's the second book you're talking about, I'd consider it incredibly important to at least have the ending of the first book down so you know where to build on.

If you don't already have all your ideas for the sequel down, I suggest working on them as an alternative to actually starting it, for there can really be no sequel if the first book remains unfinished.

Overall, I love that you're planning to introduce new characters in the later books--it makes the story feel fresher. Building onto that, it's important to introduce new aspects, such as character dynamics, settings, higher stakes, or conflicts, from book to book! My final piece of advice is to try to incorporate foreshadowing and such. This is because when writing a sequel, you have more time and room to revisit any foreshadowing in future books. This connection will intrigue and hook your readers, leaving them wanting more from your series!

Let me know if this helped!

Happy writing~

3hks :)

[ahb-writes]

Writing Problem: The Story Is Too Thin

Problem: The Story Is Too Thin

Solution: Does the story lack balance?

Purposeful narrative structure. Effective characterization. Meaningful conflict (and meaningful consequences). Immersive description. Authentic character dynamics. A good story needs all of this and more. But it's okay to be stronger, or more experienced, in crafting one area of storytelling than in others. It's okay for one's attention to drift during the initial drafting phase.

If you know your strengths, then you can lean on them to bolster your storytelling where it counts. If you know your weaknesses or limitations, then you can avoid what frustrates you and maneuver toward what excites you. But take the time to identify what facet of your craft needs work and be open to exploring your weaknesses with further experience, research, and insight.

Writing Resources:

100 Character Development Questions to Inspire Deeper Arcs (Now Novel)

How to Write a Sequel That Satisfies: Simple Guide (Now Novel)

Best Story Writing Websites in 2022 (Now Novel)

10 Signs Your Plot is Weak (and How to Fix it) (September C. Fawkes)

Defining and Developing Your Author Voice (September C. Fawkes; ahbwrites)

How to Pace a Story (Writing Questions Answered)

Description: 5 Times When You Should (and 4 Times When You Shouldn't) Rely on Description (ahbwrites)

How to Focus on One Story (Alyssa Hollingsworth)

❯ ❯ Adapted from the writing masterpost series: 19 Things That Are Wrong With Your Novel (and How to Fix Them)

[authorkarajorgensen]

On Writing Sequels

This week's blog is one on craft! While most people agonize over book 2, I prefer it over one. Read this week's blog to find out why.

I know a lot of writers writhe in angst over writing sequels or second books in a series, but I think I’m in the minority here as I actually much prefer writing sequels to the initial book. In this week’s blog, I hope I can help you to make writing sequels a little easier in the future. As per my usual writing caveat, what works for one writer doesn’t work for another, so take all writing advice…

[gatsby-system-folks]

Also since I'm on the subject of sequels: there's a balance between

I thought of another idea in this story so I'm going to write it

This bit of lore wasn't well explained in the original so I'm writing a sequel

I know people/(sometimes it's just me) already like this story so I'm going to write more for those people

And none of them are bad, it's just when any of them are over done when a story becomes bland.

[ladymordecai]

Ooooh, THIS

You have neatly articulated why I disliked the sequel-quartet to the Circle of Magic books!! The whole point of the Circle of Magic quartet was four outcasts bonding together! And then the Circle Opens splits them up and they're jaded etc in Will of the Empress and ARGH I disliked them immensely.

There totally could have been a "each kid from the Circle of Magic books takes on an apprentice/finds another wild magic kid" sequel quartet WITHOUT splitting the gang!

I mean, I always knew that I disliked them because they split the group, but to articulate it as UNDOING THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE ORIGINAL is it exactly!

When will creators of famous and beloved franchises realise that no fan in the history of fandoms has wanted the sequel with the new generation to have higher stakes and more angsty drama than the original.

A Fan: Wow, can’t wait to see the heroes’ children living in a world that has been made better by the original heroes, having a loving and respectful relationship with the hero I loved and respected as a child, and dealing with their own adventure that might not be as high stake as saving the world, but is important for their own personal journey. 

A creator: How about the world is ending again, the new generation hates the heroes, who have become major assholes for no reason, and everything is bigger and goes more boom.  

[joncronshawauthor]

📖 Edits, Prequels, and Zombie Tales | Author Diary - November 1, 2024 🎅🧟

📝 Editing “Forged in Blood”: I’m deep into the editing process for “Forged in Blood,” the second book in the Guild of Assassins series. It’s always a detailed task to refine the narrative, enhance character development, and ensure the plot twists keep readers on the edge of their seats. This stage is crucial for bringing the polished version of the story to life. 📚 Revisiting…

[zepskies]

More of This

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs.  

AN: Here it is - bonus drabble time!~ This can be a stand-alone, but it’s really a snippet missing from Lost Time in the Every Second Counts-verse. Using the GIF above from 2x02 specifically for the hair flip. It did things to me... 😮‍💨 (But there are NO spoilers for 2x02).

Shoutout to @impala-dreamer who helped inspire this in our @jacklesversebingo chat. 😂

Word Count: 900

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smut and feels, small tinge of angst. Russell's hair. Tattoos. Everything really.

💜 Series Masterlist  

“Welcome home,” you whispered into his mouth.

All Russell could offer was a breathless sound, caught somewhere between an agreement and a groan of pleasure. He was being treated to a feast of the eyes as you rode him slow in the comfort and safety of your bed.

Your lips didn’t quite manage to connect with his in a kiss, with heavy breaths in between and a deliberate roll of your hips against his. He’d been letting you control the pace of him sheathing home with your every drawn-out thrust.

He was enjoying the show—your hair wild, your pupils blown wide with arousal, being able to palm at your breasts and tease your hardened nipples, kissing your flushed, dewy skin.

But you could feel him getting desperate. His hands moved down your body over soft curves, just for his fingers to squeeze into the flesh of your hips and ass, trying to ground himself in you. His eyes shut and his head fell back into the pillow. You bent down and fastened your lips to his neck, kissing and sucking hard there. He slid a hand up your back and buried it in your hair.

“Takin’ me so well, baby,” he said, his voice deep and rough, and a bit strained. “But you’re torturing me a little bit.”

You giggled breathlessly into his neck. Your tone was playful and coy when you replied, “What do you mean?”

You made a show of raising your hips, letting his hard length slide out of your wet heat all the way to the tip, before you slowly sunk back down. You shifted your hips along the way, until the thick head of him was nestled deep and pressing against your cervix. You both panted for breath. Even your arms were shaking while holding yourself above him.

“Yeah, think you’re trying to kill me,” Russell uttered. “Suppose there’s worse ways to go…”

“Fuck,” you muttered, releasing into a moan. The languid drag of his cock against your inner walls was good, but nowhere near enough at this point.

Maybe you were done teasing him, as well as yourself. Maybe you were done punishing him for taking one contract job after another, taking so long to get back, and making you worry about him and his safety. Your lips made their way back to his cheek, laying a sweeter kiss there.

“Okay.” You smiled against his skin. “How about you fuck me like it’s been three months, not three weeks. I wanna feel you come hot inside me—”

Russell wouldn’t even wait for you to finish the dirty whispers already setting his blood alight. His tattooed arm wrapped around your back and pulled you flush against his chest. He manhandled you seemingly without much effort, twisting you onto your back and having you laid out underneath him.

You let out a huff as your back met the mattress and made the springs squeak. Your head barely made it onto the pillow where his head had been, but your boyfriend wasted little time in grabbing your thighs and angling you just right, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. (You didn’t need any encouragement.) He took you hard and deep, making sure he hit that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

You gasped and clung to his broad shoulders.

“Right there, sweetheart?” he said near your ear. His voice was rich and gravel. A shiver ran through your body, goaded along with every other sensation he was drawing out of you. You couldn’t even speak. Just a nod and a broken, desperate whimper. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip.

You were holding on for the rest of the ride. If nothing else, Russell had precision, and he was a master of his craft. And that was whatever he set his mind to.

His hand slipped between your bodies for a moment, his fingers searching, and finding, then massaging your swollen clit between thrusts. You cried out in his ear and damn near choked on your own breath, your nails biting into his shoulders. It didn’t take much longer for that tightening coil in your core to finally snap, your inner walls throbbing around his cock.

A curse and a ragged groan fell from his lips as his body locked up on him as well. You felt his body stiffen and the warmth of his release deep inside you. The sensation elicited another shiver down your spine.

You were on birth control, but it still made you feel a bit wild sometimes, whenever he came inside you. You relaxed underneath him with your knees bent, your thighs a soft cradle for his hips.

Russell kept himself upright with his forearms resting on either side of your head. His long hair had slid forward, the brown silky strands tickling your forehead as his panting breaths mingled with yours.

You attempted to brush some of his hair back behind his ears, but it fell forward again, tickling your nose. Russell allowed it on purpose, making you laugh lightly. He grinned in response, but he lowered further to capture your lips in a kiss. He didn’t mind this one being nice and slow.

Even when he parted from you, you still craved more of him. More of this.

You slipped a hand over his bearded cheek, an affectionate caress. A softer smile drew across his lips. He rested his forehead against yours, and he chuckled a little.

“It’s damn good to be home.”

AN: 🫣 Lol hope you enjoyed this one! ❤️‍🔥

Join Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Series Masterlist || Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

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@samanddeaninatrenchcoat

[multch]

Caught.

Art the clown x Reader [18+]

CW: Smut\ afab Reader

Pt.1 (Thoughts)

Art just caught you red-handed pleasuring yourself but he doesn't seem to react… at first.

There stood Art the clown, leaning up against the wall with a shit eating grin- Oh God no.

Oh God no.

It was in this moment, you felt as small as a starved mouse. Has he always towered over you?

Holding your breath, your gaze hesitantly lifted to meet with his eyes.

Surely he couldn’t hear you in there… And obviously he couldn’t have been waiting outside the whole time.. right?

But what if he had. Would he be disgusted? His face contorted into a disturbed grimace. Could it change your relationship? Would he be so enraged as to consider you his next victim- ready to skin you with his bare hands. Gosh why did you ever think that was a good idea! 

Your lust was your hamartia- the trigger that would spiral into your gruesome demise; a death without an ounce of dignity.

It was as if that doorway was a picture frame holding- you- a moment frozen in time. Your face was flushed bright red and your chest heaved up and down as if you had just ran a marathon. 

Your eyes were wide in shock and pure terror.

As your gaze met his, you couldn’t help but sigh as he walked right past you. How could he be so calm? His smirk dropped as he practically shrugged you off as if you were translucent- as if you weren’t there…

What the hell?!

*

There it layed unfinished. It would only take you a few minutes to stitch back up the final rip.

Across your desk were numerous tools you used throughout the night; The jacket you worked on mere hours ago, several pairs of sharp fabric scissors and an array of pins and needles strung with thread.

Despite the busy crowd of your work-station, you remained alone. 

Where could he be?

*

You looked up at the cheap clock sitting on the wall; 2:15am.

Clutched carefully in your hand, you carried his newly repaired costume with you. When you would return it to him, you would finally be able to go home- that is if you could find him…

It was your 4th time circling around the store and only one thought remained in your mind; 

Where on earth was that damn clown!?

Walking into storage, you were met with the familiar dark and dusty sight you dreaded seeing so often. Luckily, since meeting Art, you were able to evade stock retrieval long enough during your shifts to delegate it to him at night. Unfortunately, every once in a while you would still have to venture out back during the day when issues were too urgent. 

It wasn't rare for liminal spaces to creep you out so the avoidance was understood with a few simple honks of a horn. 

“Hey Art… you in here?” You shivered.

The room was cramped and lined with unstable wire shelving overflowing with cardboard boxes of various sizes. As there were no windows, who knew what could be hiding in the shadows. 

As your eyes adjusted to make out shapes within the darkness, your hand crept around the wall beside you for a light switch.

Aha! There it was.

As you went to flick the switch your heart suddenly dropped.

That’s not the switch… 

Two cold hands grabbed your arm in an instant, pulling you towards a firm chest.

Shit!

“Art! Oh my goodness I am so sorry,” you blurted, “I was just looking for the lightswitch, I didn’t mean to-” 

While what you could see was limited, what you knew was abundant. Your cheeks burned up as you realized what you just did. You didn’t flick the lightswitch, you just hit Art’s nipple- god that’s so embarrassing! You practically screamed at yourself.

What did you drag yourself into! First you think he caught you finger fucking yourself to the thought of him. Now you're in a dark storage cupboard and he's completely naked! 

It's not even his fault, you sighed. You're the one carrying his repaired clothes- Damn it! You should've given him something to wear- you work in a costume shop for christ’s sake!

There, you continued to ramble on and on. Uttering something about an extra Santa costume. Suddenly, you gasped as Art pulled you closer towards himself.

Oh.

Seems like Art noticed your distraction and gave you something else to think about. Yes, he was naked but that didn't interest you when you knew you could lean into the tenderness of his sharp touch.

It ran through you- that burning, stinging sensation everywhere his skin touched yours. He was frozen. He kept pulling you closer into his chest like he needed you to survive. Like your warmth was addictive.

His arms wrapped around you like a snake while he tucked your legs between his thighs.

You looked up at him only to be met with the same shit-eating grin as last time.

What a pervert.

He was infectious. Once you had laid eyes on those disgusting tar black teeth and dark doe eyes, it was as if a command came over your soul. The corners of your lips unconsciously lifted into a smile. Maybe you would take advantage of this proximity for once…

Laying a quick peck on his bottom lip, you chuckled as you knew his facepaint had transferred to your own.

Art always knew how to make you laugh as he reared back to make an exaggerated shocked face. Quickly, he returned the offer by giving you a toothy grin before smashing his lips into yours.

Driving your bodies forward and away from the initial wall, Art bites your bottom lip as a plea for entry. Your back arches against the shelving as he pushes into the kiss. You let him- loving each and every second of pure bliss. 

His tongue explored every inch, every tooth, every surface. It felt like you two stayed like that for eternity. It was as if once you would open your eyes, the night would be long gone.

You winced when you were forced to pull yourself away- heaving large gasps for air. 

You couldn’t believe it. First thing you’re working a simple 9-5 and next thing you know you’re making out with the most infamous murderer in all of New York. The thought was enough to send a surge of energy rising through you.

But is this all? It’s been 3 whole years where you’ve spent countless nights fantasizing about and being subject to his mindless antics. 3 whole years. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as you turn back to Art, placing your palm against his hollow cheek. 

Whatever, you were happy to finally show your devotion to him at last…

As your lips hover over his, you gaze into his eyes. Pitch black with not a soul in sight, yet a carefulness he held while looking back at you. Back at you until… 

You felt a strange sensation graze against your thigh.

It was in the moment you learnt it was possible for the white clown to turn a subtle shade of pink. 

His eyes dodged down as he seemed to shuffle slightly further away. Choosing to hide in the shadows again, Art took a couple hefty steps backwards until all you could make out was the outline of his prominent features within the shadows.

“Oh shit..” you uttered under your breath. Art was hard. Oh my goodness, Art was hard and embarrassed. 

Weighing up the pros and cons, you quickly bit the bullet and made up your mind. You were going to take that risk even if it could cost you your life. Art was everything you wanted and more. He had been so helpful over the past few years, you thought he deserved a small favor in return.

Stepping across the small storage room, you land in front of him- placing your hands on his chest. His skin was frigid and without a pulse.

“I can help you with that,” you whisper into his ear.

Despite the quick shocked expression Art played with, it was as if you caught his sincerity for a second before he snaped back into miming an over-emphasized swooning motion; fanning himself with his hand before pretending to faint.

His eyes stare far into yours as if seeking reassurance before acting on his own accord.

You nodded. Falling to your knees, you steadied yourself with both hands holding onto his legs. 

There it was. 

While you had seen it plenty of times, you had never imagined it from this angle. It was ample in length and wide in thickness. The sight was enough to make your mouth water.

You carefully grip the base and work your hands up and down his shaft before placing it in your mouth.

Paying attention to every ridge and bump, you slide your tongue across his length. As you begin bobbing your head back and forth, you look up to find Art’s embarrassment is long gone.

His eyes are shut tight and his mouth gapes open like he's lost for words. (if he had any, that is)

While you pulled closer and closer towards the base of his cock with every thrust, Art put his hands on the crown of your head, pulling you further into him.

Sliding down your throat, you gagged as Art thrusted his shaft into the roof of your mouth. 

For someone so shy before, he’s taking control of this alot more than you expected..

Drool pools at the corners of your mouth, dribbling slowly down your chin. Art takes notice and drags his hand down to wipe it with his shaky thumb.

Fuck- he was so far down the back of your throat, you swore it was a miracle you were till breathing by now.

Thick white ropes coated the walls of your mouth. The action sent you bucking back as it forced you into a coughing fit. God was he bitter tasting.

He flung back before patting your head. It felt degrading- almost as if you were his pet in need of praise after completing a trick.

Lifting your gaze to look up at him, he sends back a dramatic shocked face before shifting to his usual wide grin.

As you stuck your tongue out, you chuckled before swallowing his seed.

*

Zipp! And that was the last of it. All that was left was to lock up the store and you were done. Your desk was cleaned, your repairs were finished and your clown friend was very happy. 

While you loved your job, you were terribly excited to finally go home and have a long rest (maybe even a sweet treat too)

You let out a chuckle as you watched the live footage displayed on the security cameras. Despite being colorless and grainy, the expression on Art’s face was clear as day. There, he waved into the camera- his face imitating the pure joy of a small child* in a candy store; with a large smile and immense energy radiating from him.

(*As pure as he can get considering he’s a murderous hell spawn, but we won’t talk about that…)

He tipped his tiny top hat towards the camera, then swiftly turned on his heels to face the exit.

Ding! Ding! Ding! The bell rang out as Art made his exit, and it was as if he had suddenly vanished.

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow… 

Maybe work could be a bit more exciting from now on, you thought.

[prokopetz]

If I ever got to write the script for a sequel to a popular open-world video game I would go out of my way to establish that the canon outcome of the previous game was something no normal player would ever think to do. Not anything impossible within the established framework of play, not a too-clever "all outcomes are true at once" sleight of hand – merely a very unlikely sequence of events. Like, you know the people who speedrun Disco Elysium with the explicit goal of simultaneously maxing out their political alignment in both Communism and Hypercapitalism in the same playthrough? The canon player character is That Guy.

[somesecretpie]

[rooksunday]

thinking about fox getting his first poll card after the vode get citizenship. the guard scattered after sithsplosion day, but he and a score or so that were functionally useless without each other, like nervous space greyhounds with military training, all ended up bundled together on some planet in the mid rim.

he’s been working on a book about his years at the senate. no one knows about it aside from thorn, who has been checking his basic, and advising him where he needs to wind the reveals back a little because libel. the rest of the time he does payroll for a number of small businesses, picking and choosing his hours, and delighting in sending invoices for his business: the shiny security fund, he’s called it, to continue the tradition in a more official manner.

(when they’d been on triple zero, the fund had been for rations. blankets. bacta. they’d conned credits from tourists and stolen them from senators and turned those credits into hope for the poor bastards shipped to the city that ate shinies before they could ever earn paint. these days, the fund was for whatever his guard wanted. aside from a pony. fox couldn’t figure out where hound would keep the pony.)

the book had been born from two lists. one was the blackmail and gossip the guard had collected during their stint on coruscant; that was where thorn needed to check for dangers, but since most of those senators had died in sith-related incidents, or had been jailed when the media got hold of their dealings, all fox was doing was providing context.

the other part of the book was fox’s List. thire sometimes called it a manifesto, because he had been studying for his degree and liked to show off occasionally. the list was a suggestion of changes to the republic, some small, some large. it was a silly fancy of fox’s, as the whole book was, but if he couldn’t indulge himself in his own karkin’ book then they might as well have punted him off the high levels back on coruscant.

yet for all that he’d settled—and paid taxes, even—fox hadn’t felt part of the citizenship of the planet. then the poll card had arrived. and suddenly he mattered in a tangible way. just like the bothan baker next door did. just like the twi’lek downstairs, the one with the noisy kriffin’ speeder, did.

thorn found fox in the kitchen, still staring at the scrap of card. he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.

“you okay there, chief?” he asked. he’d been trying out alternatives to ‘sir’. “noise complaint again?”

fox shook his head. he didn’t look up. “voting thing. there’s an election.”

“oh! yeah, we got ours yesterday. are you— what’s that face you’re making. i don’t think i like it.”

fox raised his head and gleamed his smile at thorn, who backed away slightly, one hand drifting to where a blaster once hung. fox’s eyes felt very wide. he jabbed the poll card like a vibroknife.

“do you know what this means?”

“democracy comes in two postal batches?”

“no! well, yes, apparently, and that’s inefficient, but— no!” fox jabbed the card again. “this means i am a citizen and i am about to make that a senator’s problem. where’s my manifes— list, thorn? it’s time for an update.”

[bastardlybonkers]

you were my son once

[zephyrchama]

Late-night Activities

(some highly suggestive Obey Me! Lucifer x reader)

It was pure coincidence that Lucifer walked past your room in the middle of the night and noticed you weren't sleeping. The door was cracked open just a hair, allowing him to spot the ever-so-slight light of your phone illuminating the back wall. It was a peculiar time for you to be awake, especially considering the awful cold you were fighting off.

He knocked twice and entered, leaning through the doorway. "You're supposed to be resting. Can't sleep?"

"Mmh," you affirmed, your eyes glued to the phone screen. You sniffled and shifted over to make room on the edge of your bed, holding back a cough. "I found some funny videos that kept me up. Want to see?"

Lucifer gladly took the offered seat, sliding off his shoes before propping a leg up on the bed and sitting beside you. You raised the phone up while he leaned over, meeting each other halfway.

The video was alright. Silly human children doing stupid human things. They reminded Lucifer of his brothers, but not enough to elicit a laugh. "This is what's keeping you up? You should be resting. We need you back at RAD."

"I'm alright," you asserted. "The cough is mostly gone."

As if on cue, you were sent into a hacking fit, naturally curling your knees up to your chest as you tried to catch your breath in between coughs. It lasted for nearly a minute. Lucifer furrowed his brow and gazed at you with worry, a hand hovering over your back if the need for it arose.

You stretched out when the cough finally subsided and took a deep breath. "See? I'm fine," you claimed, visibly winded and voice raspy.

"Yes, I see, clear as day," Lucifer agreed sarcastically. You couldn't see his eyes rolling in the dark.

The phone screen changed color rapidly as you scrolled through its endless content in pursuit of another video. Preferably one Lucifer would like. He observed you in concern, with zero interest for anything on the screen.

"If you're so bored, how about we do something else instead?" he offered.

Lucifer shifted his entire weight onto the bed. You softly tumbled into one of his legs while he moved the other into a straddling position, setting a hand next to your shoulder. He popped a few shirt buttons and began loosening his tie. The dangling fabric tickled your chin. Everything suddenly smelled like Lucifer.

You tapped the top edge of the phone against your nose, hiding your blushing face as the screen went dark. "What are we going to do?"

"Why don't I show you?" his deep voice rumbled as the tips of his fingers caressed your neck. You shuddered at the touch. He moved your hands away from your face, placing the phone far out of reach while adoring your expression. "I need you to look only at me."

You rubbed your knees together, but Lucifer squeezed your legs shut between his thighs. "Don't move unless I say so."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat and taking another deep breath. The demon pinned you under his weight.

Lucifer took hold of your arms and bound your wrists together with his tie. The Avatar of Pride was exceptionally skilled at tying things up, as he had proved countless times before. When your hands were firmly restrained, he gave the tie a quick yank for good measure, holding the opposite end lightly between his fangs. You clenched your fists.

"Too tight?" he asked.

It was incredibly difficult to move and a little uncomfortable, but for Lucifer, you could deal with it. You shook your head, no.

"Good."

He pulled the tie through the metallic filigree of the bed's headboard, ensuring your arms would stay up above your head no matter what happened next. You got a good view of his muscles through the undone shirt buttons as he loomed over you to finish his preparations.

With your arms firmly bound in place, Lucifer gave you an embrace, pulling your head against his chest. His heartbeat was oddly calm, though your own was racing so fast that you didn't notice. He kissed the top of your head and tantalizingly worked his way down, sliding his whole body against yours as he kissed your ear, then your cheek.

"You're so hot," he sighed.

You melted under his words and squeezed your eyes shut, ready for what may come.

"Good. Keep those eyes shut for me," he cooed into your neck. You felt his hands sliding down your sides through the covers.

"Here's what's going to happen," Lucifer whispered, pulling your blanket up over your shoulders and rubbing his hands across your body as he tucked you in. "You're going to get a very, very good night's sleep. And you're going to recover from that cold."

His weight instantly disappeared as he got up, put his shoes back on in one smooth motion, and walked across the room. It happened so quickly, your brain had trouble catching up to reality. You opened your eyes and frantically turned to watch his smug figure walk out the door.

"Lucifer!?" you called in confusion.

"Good night," he called back. "I don't want to find you on your phone again."

You tugged at the restraints, but he was too good. Not only was your phone all the way on the opposite end of the bed, but your arms were firmly stuck above your head. Writhing about only caused the covers he so carefully swaddled to come a little loose. They were still warm with his body heat. It was quiet, no matter how much you thrashed your legs and huffed in frustration, triggering another coughing fit.

"Lucfier! You're going to pay for this!"

[renthony]

Want to read a short story about a nonbinary autistic ship captain and a mysterious magical passenger?

In THE QUEEN OF CUPS by Ren Basel (that's me!), a mysterious woman known only as The Oracle resides on the seashore, blessing ships and telling fortunes for those who can pay her price. For new-made ship captain Theo Marinos, the price is higher than it first seems.

If Theo has any hope of surviving their ship’s first voyage, they must trust not just in The Oracle, but in themself–for the journey is long, and the ocean’s tests are many.

Ebook

Paperback

Goodreads

[littlecrittereli]

Wk doodles go brr......

*Spends 3 days on a full illustration that I don't even like that much and then proceeds to whip out a doodle that's better than anything I've ever drawn in my life on a low-resolution drawpile*

[sweetbunpura]

Ash Leech: Gotta question for you, little fry.

Yuu: Oh wonderful, another marine themed nickname. What's up?

Ash: Why do you smell both of my sons?

Ruby Leech: I was wondering that too.

Yuu, with no filter: Because I hang out with both of them and slept with them.

Ash & Ruby: !

Yuu, realized what she just said: I mean, in the most PG of ways. I just shared a bed with them.

Ruby: Oh.

Ash: ... what else did you do?

Yuu: I danced with them, Floyd's a really good slow dancer, Jade not so much.

Ash & Ruby: ...

Yuu: What?

Ruby: Did you... did you feed them too?

Yuu: Yeah, Floyd's lazy about it and Jade's hands were full.

Ash & Ruby, look at Jade and Floyd:

Jade: We can explain-

Floyd: No, we can't.