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#Will read your poem or short story

blue-kyber · 2 years

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Ok.

Looks like I'm in big trouble.

Being out of work for Covid hit me harder than I'd thought.

Work only paid me for the five days I was out to isolate. Not the extra 5 days I had to stay out due to still testing positive for the antigen test. I had to be out for a total of 14 days before I tested negative. Work wouldn't let me back until they got that negative test.

Considering I'm a server in a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant and I'm nose to nose with people, that's the requirement.

I've been very careful working in a restaurant to keep myself, my coworkers, and my customers safe. It took until June 14th for me to test positive for Covid for the first time.

Every single day since this began has been a major stress game of Russian Roulette with every person what walked through that door.

And then they scheduled me for only 3 days.

They only scheduled me for two days this upcoming week.

I've already begged them to give me more time. My manager said, "I'll try" which we all know means "Likely not" in restaurant business lingo.

My rent is due on the 15th in 3 days. I rent a room out of someone's apartment, and my rent is $1200/mo.

The person I rent from is out of touch with the world, and will likely try to evict me.

I have $388 in my bank account as of this moment in time.

There is no way in hell I can make $900 to cover rent, and give myself enough to put gas in the car and buy food until my next paycheck.

I'm also on Indeed and Glassdoor searching for a new or second job, because what they're doing to me is just stupid.

I was on the edge, but supporting myself just fine before I got Covid. :(

And my birthday is next Sunday.

SO.......

I'm pimping out my voice.

If you have a short story you would like to have narrated, an article, a kids book, a romance story, a short fan fiction, - whatever it is (just not porn) - let me know.

I have a professional setup at home, since I narrate audiobooks for Audible. The approval standards for ACX are high, so you can be guaranteed quality sound.

I have formal voice training in both singing and voice acting with industry renowned coaches like Julie Klewer, and Tony Oliver (Bang! Zoom! Ent. post production. usually deals with anime, but also other things.) I've done walla work for them before.

I have an acting background. I'm a trained actor and improvisational artist, and have been told I have a nice voice.

I will narrate your short story or poem or fan fiction, ect, engineer it, and deliver it in a WAV format or an MP3 format through Dropbox for large files.

I can add some music (I pay for an Epidemic Sound subscription to use their music on YT, but if you want to post that music on your channel, you'd need to get one.). But for your own use, go nuts. :)

My ACX profile has me at $100 - $200 per hour of finished audio (what you would hear in an audiobook.) So far I've only had royalty share gigs.

So, here's what I'm thinking - because narrating and engineering the audio takes time....

Poems: $15/each

Short stories up to 1000 words: $25

Short stories up to 5000 words: $50.

Added background music: $5 extra per track.

Here's a sample of what I sound like for the last audiobook I narrated and engineered:

And this is from a Star Wars Podcast I did where I am both the translator droid T4-ZO, and the background singer at Jabba's Palace. They gave me a Huttese dictionary and a backing track and told me to go nuts. The lyrics actually mean something. They translate to an actual song with verses and a chorus. I literally riffed the melody off the top of my head for a good 5 minutes. They used what they liked. If you can help, please, please send me an ask. Anons work, too.

If you can't, don't worry. It's ok. :) You can share this.

Thank you, guys.

You know I never ask for this. I can usually take care of myself. This is just a really, really, dire situation. :(

If you'd like, here's my paypal.

Thank you so much. ❤🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍

#writing #writeblr #doing something I hate to do and yet here I am #I have skills to trade.#I need some help #audiobook narrator #Will read your poem or short story #I have experience in narration and audio engineering.#I'm in need of help BUT I want to give you my skill and training and time and talent in return.#voice acting #star wars #historical fiction #I've improved since these recordings.

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blue-eyed-author · 6 months

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Some of my writer’s block cures:

Handwrite. (If you already are, write in a different coloured pen.)

Write outside or at a different location.

Read.

Look up some writing prompts.

Take a break. Do something different. Comeback to it later.

Write something else. (A different WIP, a poem, a quick short story, etc.)

Find inspiring writing music playlists on YouTube. (Themed music, POV playlists, ambient music, etc.)

Do some character or story prompts/questions to get a better idea of who or what you’re writing.

Word sprints. Set a timer and write as much as you can. Not a lot of time to overthink things.

Set your own goals and deadlines.

Write another scene from your WIP. (You don’t have to write in order.) Write a scene you want to write, or the ending. (You can change it or scrap it if it doesn’t fit into your story later.)

Write a scene for your WIP that you will never post/add to your story. A prologue, a different P.O.V., how your characters would react in a situation that’s not in your story, a flashback, etc.

Write down a bunch of ideas. Things that could happen, thing that will never happen, good things, bad things.

Change the weather (in the story of course.)

Feel free to add your own.

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simplestudentplanning · 5 months

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100 Things To Do Instead Of Doom-Scrolling Through Social Media

Read a book.

Write in a journal.

Learn to cook a new recipe.

Practice a musical instrument.

Start a DIY project.

Draw or paint.

Learn a new language.

Do a puzzle.

Exercise or do yoga.

Listen to a podcast.

Watch a documentary.

Play a board game.

Try a new workout routine.

Meditate.

Start a garden.

Plan a future trip.

Volunteer online.

Write a letter to a friend or family member.

Learn to knit or crochet.

Take online courses.

Practice photography.

Organize your closet.

Play video games.

Learn a magic trick.

Write a short story.

Create a vision board.

Make a playlist of your favorite songs.

Try a new hairstyle.

Experiment with makeup.

Learn to juggle.

Play a card game.

Do a home workout challenge.

Explore virtual museums or art galleries.

Do a digital detox day.

Learn calligraphy.

Rearrange your furniture.

Create a scrapbook.

Learn to play chess.

Write and perform a song.

Practice mindfulness.

Learn origami.

Plan a themed dinner night.

Do a home spa day.

Learn to code.

Play a musical instrument.

Build a blanket fort.

Take online dance lessons.

Research and try a new type of tea.

Learn about astronomy and stargaze.

Try a new board game.

Create a podcast.

Learn to solve a Rubik's Cube.

Start a blog.

Make homemade candles.

Research your family tree.

Practice a new type of art (e.g., watercolor, sculpture).

Learn to speed-read.

Write a poem.

Make a list of personal goals.

Learn to play a new card game.

Create a budget.

Build a puzzle or Lego set.

Learn to identify constellations.

Try a new fitness class online.

Make homemade pizza.

Experiment with DIY face masks.

Learn about a historical event.

Create a bucket list.

Learn to tie different knots.

Try a new type of workout (e.g., Pilates, kickboxing).

Create digital art.

Plan a themed movie marathon.

Learn to juggle.

Explore a new genre of music.

Write a letter to your future self.

Take up a new hobby (e.g., birdwatching, geocaching).

Research and try a new type of cuisine.

Make homemade ice cream.

Practice deep breathing exercises.

Create a photo album.

Try a new type of dance.

Write and perform a short play.

Learn to play a new board game.

Take a virtual tour of a historical site.

Make a time capsule.

Learn about different types of architecture.

Plan a virtual game night with friends.

Write and illustrate a children's book.

Try a new form of exercise (e.g., HIIT, Zumba).

Learn about different types of plants.

Create a DIY home decor project.

Plan a themed picnic at home.

Research and try a new type of dessert.

Practice positive affirmations.

Try a new type of puzzle (e.g., crosswords, Sudoku).

Learn about different types of birds.

Experiment with DIY skincare products.

Take up a new form of art (e.g., pottery, glassblowing).

Create a list of things you're grateful for.

Learn about a new culture.

#selfcare #selflove #self improvement #self love #self care #hobbies #self healing #habits

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inkskinned · 4 months

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how many times can you live through the apocalypse?

when you were little there was this beach that was free to go to. you didn't really like it on account of the litter. at one point, a white bag caught around your ankle, and for a moment (fish child), you panicked about jellyfish. on the foam, the red-pink words read thank you, stacked on top of each other, tangled in the kelp.

they have a new program (three thousand american dollars) to send your dead relative to the moon. there is a lot of evidence that our local orbit is becoming ever-more dangerously populated with "micro" satellites - debris in a round miasma becoming a thick web above us. maybe angels cannot hear us through the pollution.

you used to picture deep space like a thick membrane, or a blanket. someone said to you once the universe has no edge and that fucked with you for a long time, trying to picture what shape infinity has. your coworker is writing a short story about ecological collapse, which she is submitting for a little side-money so she can survive the current economical collapse.

the birds haven't gone to sleep this winter. that is probably bad. something that actually freaks you out is the natural temperature of human bodies versus the survival temperature of certain fungi. there is a podcast called s-town, in which a man kills himself over climate anxiety. he was probably meant to seem sort of unhinged. it just seems like it is becoming increasingly clear he was being honest.

space is not empty, we have put our dead into the stars. at some point they will figure out how to put ads into our sleep. you need to pay for the greenlife subscription service to be able to save the world.

there is a lot of ways this poem ends. but you have been wearing the same jeans and shirts since you were, like, 18. it is a hard life, sometimes, watching the entire foundation crack. there was this one moment over the summer, where you were shaking with heat exhaustion and dehydration. you were offered a nestle water bottle.

for three thousand dollars, you can send your ashes into space.

instead, you wash out the peanut butter jar. you put the avocado-toothpick spiked seed ball into water (even though they never grow very far). you borrow what you do not want to buy. you pick up any litter you find. you do not have a lot of control, really. but where you do - if there is one thing you can do, you do it.

something about that. you need to believe that must be true for the rest of humanity. or maybe - you need to believe that to be true, or else there will not be a rest of humanity.

#writeblr #spilled ink #i hope it is clear in this that i wholeheartedly believe the problem is capitalism and not individuals

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thestrawberrygirly · 2 months

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150 things to do when you're bored 🧸🍰🍓

make a journal and write down about your dreams.

try baking a cake.

draw sanrio characters.

learn choreo of the song 'war of hormones' by bts.

stream bts songs or your favorite band's songs.

clean your room.

play any cute mobile games like Purrfect Tale, Resonance of Ocean, Resortopia, Sumikkogurashi Farm, Rhythm Hive, HelloKittyWorld2 Sanrio Kawaii and more. (these are available on android)

plant some trees.

watch any ghibli studio movie.

declutter your phone.

watch some aesthetic japan vlogs.

read a book.

do some skincare.

make a playlist on spotify about the songs you would like to play if you owned a cute café.

write a book about your dream world.

do pilates.

try coquette aesthetic makeup.

start crocheting.

go for a bicycle ride.

have picnic with friends or alone.

watch youtube videos.

go stargazing.

try skateboarding.

go for a walk and observe the beautiful nature and then journal about it.

try cooking with your partner or friends

make a youtube channel.

start a side hustle.

start blogging.

read your favorite blogs.

listen a podcast.

write a song about your favorite person.

make music on bandlab.

write down goals you want to achieve.

learn new language.

re-organise your closet.

take a day off from social media.

take a nap.

organise your pinterest boards.

write a poem.

write a letter to yourself.

make a cute diy necklace.

invent a cute game to play with your friends.

learn to count in another language.

look through a cookbook and try something new.

water the plants.

pray.

try meditating for 5 minutes.

read my blogs :) <3

draw cute doodles.

make cute things out of air dry clay.

create cute diy stickers.

bake cookies in cute fun shapes.

build a blanket fort and read a book inside while eating snacks.

create a scrapbook of favorite memories.

paint rocks with colorful cute designs.

make cute bracelets for your bestfriend.

write a cute story about fairies.

make homemade popsicles with fruit juice.

watch the sunset or sunrise and take a moment to appreciate the beauty of nature.

go for a nature walk and collect interesting leaves or stones.

have a movie marathon with your favorite films.

have a fashion show with clothes from your closet.

design and decorate your own phone case.

create a memory jar filled with notes of happy moments.

design and paint your own ceramic plant pots.

learn about law of attraction.

do research about the history of something of your interest like 'how it was invented?', 'who started it?'.

create your own font.

play an old online game.

try a coloring app.

work on your wish list.

paint your nails.

take a bubble bath.

start a garden.

make your own short movie with your phone.

complete a puzzle.

write about the most beautiful dream you have ever saw.

organize your house.

make a smoothie.

put an appreciation message on a balloon and let it go.

complete a challenge like 30 day self care challenge, 30 day writing challenge and more.

visit a local art gallery.

watch a lecture or TED talk.

read a self-help book.

read a book on astronomy.

click aesthetic pictures of nature.

make your phone look aesthetic.

give your bedroom a makeover on ghibli studio aesthetic.

create a toothpick tower.

practice writing from your non dominate hand.

write about what a day in your dream life looks like.

take out your pet for a walk.

make something wearable for your pet.

learn about how to beat procrastination.

make a little plushie out of your old socks.

learn a new skill.

make a cute website in carrd.co.

write down 10 things you're grateful for.

sit by a river.

visit a local bakery.

walk around a lake.

scroll on pinterest about nature.

walk in the rain.

watch classic films.

watch fashion shows on youtube.

get a haircut.

drink water, take care of yourself <3

read some beauty tips.

watch ballet videos.

write a quote on moon.

say yes to everything for a day.

read some interesting articles.

watch your comfort movie.

write a fiction story.

make your own calendar.

have an indoor picnic with your partner.

write a list of things you will do with your bestie.

crochet something for your loved one or yourself.

learn graphic designing.

write 10 beautiful things about yourself.

make paper stars.

explore interesting websites.

explore your neighborhood.

make a yummy snack.

make hwachae.

try origami.

write a list of your favorite songs explaining why you love it.

watch run bts.

read some manga.

make strawberry cake.

watch conan gray's old vlogs <3

watch onegai my melody :D

design and launch a cute social media challenge to spread positivity and creativity online.

host a themed dinner party with your friends where everyone dresses up and brings a dish from a different culture.

have a spa day at home complete with homemade facemasks, bath bombs, and soothing music.

design a pretty jewellery.

draw your dream house.

try out guided meditation videos (you will find in youtube).

learn about a new culture.

make homemade jam.

do a random act of kindness.

research and plan a future trip.

try a new type of workout video.

research and practice self-defense techniques.

try a new type of creative writing (screenwriting, playwriting, etc.).

try a new type of DIY beauty product (lip balm, body scrub, etc.).

watch a documentary.

learn about constellations and stargaze.

practice calligraphy.

do a riddle.

🌷follow me on instagram <3🌷

#150 things to do when you're bored #jnquette #self care #self healing #self love #self worth #loablr #wonyoungism #pink pilates princess #studyblr

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justlemmeadoreyou · 9 days

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rain-kissed* (footballer!harry x

nerd!y/n)

summary: y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining

words: 6.1k

warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of a major injury, cursing, kissing, hints of smut, mutual pining.

Y/N groaned as she walked into the lecture hall for her literature class. "Are you kidding me?"

There in the very front row sat Harry Styles - captain of the football team, president of one of the biggest frats on campus, and certified douchebag extraordinaire. His feet were obnoxiously propped up on the desk in front of him as he laughed loudly with his friends.

"This class is gonna be a nightmare," Y/N muttered, taking a seat as far away from Harry's circle as possible. She couldn't stand arrogant jocks like him.

Class started and the professor cleared her throat loudly, shooting Harry a pointed look until he dropped his feet to the floor with an eye roll. "Alright, since this is an upper-level lit course, we're going to kick things off with a big group project."

A collective groan went through the class. Group projects were the worst, especially when half the group didn't pull their weight. Harry raised his hand lazily.

"What's the project, Millers?"

The prof narrowed her eyes at Harry's casual address but proceeded. "You'll be analyzing the themes and formatting an anthology of poems, plays, and short stories from a particular era or movement. I'll be assigning the groups and topics."

Y/N mentally prepared herself to get stuck doing all the work as usual for her group when Millers started listing off the pairings.

"Styles and Y/L/N - you'll be covering the Romantic period."

Y/N's head whipped up in horror as Harry scoffed loudly. Of course they'd get partnered up. This was quite literally her worst nightmare.

"Fucking kill me," Harry grumbled, slumping back in his seat rudely.

"I'd rather work alone," Y/N couldn't stop herself from retorting. Immediately, Millers zeroed in on her with a stern look.

"I don't recall there being a choice, Ms. Y/L/N. Unless either of you plans to drop this course, I suggest you learn to work together effectively."

Gritting her teeth, Y/N forced out a tight, "Yes, Professor."

Harry was already texting rapidly on his phone, not paying any attention. This project was going to be utter hell.

The rest of the semester only proved Y/N right about what a nightmare it would be to work with Harry. Their first meeting to divide up the work went about as well as could be expected - which is to say it was a total disaster.

"Look, I don't have a bunch of time for this bullshit poetry stuff," Harry kicked back in a creaky chair, looking entirely too at home in the empty classroom they'd claimed for their work session. "How about you just do the whole thing and I'll, like, proofread it at the end or whatever?"

Y/N stared at him incredulously. "Absolutely not! This is a hugely weighted project, Styles. I'm not doing all the work myself."

He shrugged impatiently. "Why not? You seem like a big ol' nerd who'd be into this."

Biting back a retort, Y/N forced herself to remain calm and reasonable. If he was going to act like a damn child,she had to be the adult in the relationship–or whatever this was.

"Forget it. We're going to split everything 50/50 whether you like it or not. I'll take the poetry analysis and you can have the plays. We'll swap sections to proofread before compiling the final thing."

Harry made a face like she'd asked him to perform surgery. "Do I have to? Plays are so boring."

"Don't care," Y/N said flatly. "You're pulling your weight on this one way or another."

With a melodramatic huff, Harry finally agreed and they were able to separate the reading materials and due dates before parting ways, both dreading the long weeks ahead.

Except...after trading several heated email chains and a couple disastrous coffee shop meetups, something shifted. Maybe it was the punctuality that struck after virtually living in the library for a week straight. Maybe it was how they both surprised each other by not being complete idiots about the subject matter. But at some point, the bickering and resentful silences turned to a bearable truce and even - dare Y/N think it - a hint of reluctant respect between them.

Y/N had assumed Harry was just another brainless party bro who skated by on his looks and family money. But to her surprise, he actually had intelligent insights into the Romantic poets and playwrights - even if he still whined about having to read "this dramalogy crap."

And Harry, who had fully expected Y/N to be an uptight, pretentious book nerd, found himself caught off guard by her whip-smart analysis...and her unexpected sarcastic quips that had him stifling laughs more than once during their study sessions. He called her nerd instead of her usual name, but was now slipping back to using Y/n more often.

"Oh my god, you did not just say that about Lord Byron!" Harry snickered as Y/N made another scalding comment about the poet's arrogant womanizing.

"What? The man was an infamous manwhore by all accounts," Y/N shrugged unapologetically. "Self-important dickhead thought his brooding and philandering made him a genius."

Harry gasped in mock offense. "How very unromantic of you, love! Have you no poetic soul?"

Without missing a beat, Y/N deadpanned, "I prefer to admire poets who didn't give the clap to half of London."

The startled laugh that burst from Harry's lips was so warm and uninhibited that Y/N felt an unexpected little flip in her stomach at the sight. Whoa, what was that?

Shaking it off, she hid her face behind her book again, tamping down an oddly giddy–sort of feeling. Just because she'd managed to find Harry slightly less insufferable lately didn't mean anything.

And so it went, their bickering gradually becoming more lighthearted and playful rather than biting. The weeks ticked by as they somehow formed an unlikely...friendship? Bros? Sure, they'd go with that for simplicity's sake.

At some point, they started expanding their hangouts beyond just study sessions too. Grabbing food after class turned into actually sitting together, Harry regaling Y/N with stories from his frat's latest shenanigans as she pretended not to be entertained.

On the rare nights Y/N wasn't holed up writing papers, she started joining Harry and his boys at their favorite dive bar, quickly becoming the calm voice of reason trying in vain to talk them out of their next boneheaded plan.

"Come on, PlainJane! Live a little!" Harry teased, throwing an arm around her shoulders at the bar.

The rowdy group cackled at Harry's horrible attempt at a literary-themed nickname for Y/N, as per tradition when any new face got absorbed into their friend circle. Personally, Y/N thought it was a lame pun, but she secretly loved how easily she'd slotted into their bizarre fratty family...and maybe especially how Harry always seemed to plaster himself to her side whenever they went out.

The camaraderie and effortless banter flowing between them should've been a huge red flag that something was shifting. But Y/N was quite stubbornly oblivious, as was Harry in his own way.

At least, that was until their big group presentation day rolled around. They'd been prepping and quizzing each other for weeks, reviewing notes and analysis essays till they were cross-eyed. Harry had really stepped up, much to Y/N's surprise, retaining way more than she'd expected about the playwrights and their major works.

The whole lit class was spread out in the lecture hall, with bullet-pointed notecards and thick anthologies ready as the first group took the floor. When it was finally Harry and Y/N's turn, they moved to the front in sync, Harry shooting her a subtle wink as he grabbed the microphone first.

"Buckle up, kids - this is how you do a proper literary presentation," he drawled cockily.

Y/N rolled her eyes on reflex, biting her lip and bumping his hip with hers in playful admonishment. "Shut up and just start already."

Neither of them noticed the amused looks being swapped by their classmates at their easy rapport. Or Millers leaning back with a knowing smirk, clearly recognizing the chemistry flying between her formerly antagonistic partners.

For the next hour, Harry and Y/N launched into their meticulously prepared overview of the key figures and works emerging from the Romantic period. Their back-and-forth was flawless yet casual, almost playful at times with little ad-libs and jokes only they were in on.

At one point, Harry lightly mocked Lord Byron's arrogance with a pompous impression that had Y/N doubled over giggling into the mic, barely choking out the next lines through her laughter. When she managed to catch her breath, she shot him a look that was equal parts fond exasperation and...something more heated.

There was a noticeable spark between them that had clearly evolved far beyond the adversarial classmates they'd started as. And if anyone could miss that subtext, it became blindingly obvious at the end when they seamlessly transitioned into their concluding remarks, standing shoulder to shoulder.

"So in summary, while the Romantics may have been a pretentious bunch of melancholic lads-" Harry began.

"-their pioneering works cemented their place as quintessential figures in literary history," Y/N picked up without missing a beat.

They shared a grin before finishing in unison, "And that's the tea, no cap."

A surprised burst of laughter rang out from their classmates at their cheeky sign-off, even the prof hiding a smile behind her hand. Everyone could see it - the easy chemistry, the almost electric undercurrent between the former rivals.

Everyone, that is, except Harry and Y/N themselves.

As they moved to return to their seats amid the applause, neither seemed to register the weighted looks and muffled whispers following them. Harry just ducked his head with an almost bashful smile, still riding the high of how flawlessly they'd worked together. While Y/N felt her cheeks flushing under the weight of what she convinced herself was just residual adrenaline.

In the weeks after their wildly successful presentation, that same strain of electrifying connection only grew stronger between them. You'd never know they'd spent the first half of the semester low-key loathing each other based on their current vibe.

Now, when Harry's frat brothers tried to rib him about his "study buddy" at their typical dive bar hangout, he just threw an arm around Y/N's shoulders and proudly declared, "More like my brain twin!"

Y/N would just duck her head with a bashful grin, pointedly ignoring how her heart did a little somersault at both the affectionate nickname and Harry's easy touch.

Or like when they sprawled out on the quad between classes, passing a bag of chips back and forth as Harry ranted about his coach riding his ass over the big rivalry game next week. Without even thinking about it, Y/N would reach out to squeeze his knee consolingly as he huffed out his frustrations. It was such a simple, natural gesture between them now that she didn't even register the slightly stunned look Harry shot her before clearing his throat gruffly.

Even their friends couldn't resist commenting on their respective obliviousness at this point.

"Bruh, Y/N literally lets you call her 'love' without punching you in the dick," Niall pointed out bluntly one night when Harry claimed, once again, he and Y/N were "just friends." His Irish buddy arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Pretty sure she wants to ride your lancer if you know what I mean."

Harry smacked him hard while trying not to get flustered. "Shut the fuck up, asshole."

While on Y/N's end...

"Sooooo, when are you gonna admit you have a huge crush on Styles?" Her friend Riley asked point blank over brunch, making Y/N nearly choke on her mimosa.

"What? No I don't!" She insisted a little too quickly, refusing to meet Riley's all-knowing gaze. "We're just...really good friends."

Riley hummed disbelievingly. "Right. And I'm the Queen of England."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest further before clamping it shut as her mind started helplessly rehashing all her favourite little moments with Harry over the past few weeks. His warm, anthracite eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed at her jokes. The proud grin he'd get whenever she successfully understood something he'd tried explaining. The way she felt this inexplicable magnetic pull to stay pressed into his side for as long as possible whenever they hung out...

"Oh my god," she breathed out, smile slipping as the enormity of her revelation dawned. "I'm in love with Harry fucking Styles."

That's not to say the smitten epiphany immediately changed anything between the two. Well, maybe it made their lingering hugs and casual touches go on for a few beats too long. Or had them both shyly stealing glances when the other's back was turned.

***

Mostly though, they just continued their cozy, obliviously pining routine of late night FaceTimes and weekends holed up studying together for finals. All while Harry's team prepared for their annual football rivalry game - the biggest matchup of the season that would make or break their championship chances.

The night before the game, Y/N found herself inexplicably anxious as she sat in the stands amid a drunk, raucous crowd. Harry kept shooting cheesy grins and double finger-gunged winks her way whenever he trotted past her section, clearly buzzed on adrenaline.

"Go get 'em, superstar!" She shouted at one point, laughing as Harry blew her an obnoxious kiss before getting back in the huddle.

The energy in the stadium was electric and infectious, Y/N finding herself caught up in the cheers and chants despite not being a huge football fan normally. Something about watching her...Harry out there gave her swirling butterflies low in her belly though.

As the intense game raged on, Y/N was on the edge of her seat, nails digging into her palms whenever Harry took a brutal hit or made a heart-stoppingly risky play. At one point he got absolutely leveled by a linebacker twice his size, his helmet bouncing sickeningly off the turf.The roar of the crowd faded into the background as Y/N watched in horror as Harry's body slammed violently into the turf. She felt her heart stop as he didn't immediately get back up after the brutal hit.

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice drowned out by the gasps of the other spectators.

The medical team rushed out onto the field as Harry lay unmoving. Y/N's hands shook with fear as she watched them carefully roll him onto a backboard and load him into the ambulance. She felt tears streaking down her cheeks as the ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally received word that Harry was going to be okay. The doctors said he had suffered a severe concussion and possible spinal injury from the whiplash of the hit. He would need weeks of rest and recovery.

Y/N rushed to the hospital, desperate to see him. When she entered his room, her heart broke at the sight of Harry's battered body hooked up to various machines, a cervical collar immobilizing his neck.

"Harry..." she whispered, taking his hand gently in hers. "I'm so sorry."

Harry's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. "Y/N? You're here..."

"Of course I'm here, you idiot," she tried to joke, blinking back more tears. "I was so worried about you."

A small smile tugged at his bruised lips. "I'll be okay, love. Harry is a thick skull, remember?"

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning at his terrible joke. "Don't scare me like that again, Styles. I don't know what I'd do without you."

A look of tenderness crossed Harry's face that made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. But before either could say anything further, the doctor entered to check on Harry's condition.

***

Over the next week, Y/N diligently stayed by Harry's side in the hospital. She helped feed him, kept him company, and supported him through the difficult early recovery stages. Harry quickly grew restless being cooped up, but every time he tried to get out of bed against doctor's orders, Y/N was there to scold him.

"You heard what the doctor said, Harry. You need to rest and let your body heal properly," she chastised him one day as he tried to get up.

Harry groaned in frustration. "But I'm going stir crazy in this damn bed! I feel fine, Y/N, honestly."

"No, you don't," Y/N said firmly. "You could have had a serious spinal injury. You're lucky it wasn't worse. Now lie back down before I get the nurses to strap you in."

Grumbling, Harry reluctantly complied, though he continued to hate being so confined and immobile. Little did Y/N know, he was already hatching a plan.

A few days later, Y/N arrived at the hospital only to find Harry's bed empty. Her heart leapt into her throat as she rushed to the nurses' station in a panic.

"Where is he? Where's Harry Styles?" she demanded.

The nurse gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, he checked himself out against medical advice earlier today."

"What? No, he can't have!" Y/N cried. She knew immediately where he would have gone.

Sure enough, when she ran across campus to the football practice field, she found Harry standing on the sidelines in his gear, acting as if nothing had happened. White hot fury blazed through her veins.

"Harry!" she yelled, storming toward him as the first raindrops began to fall. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Harry turned with a cocky grin as he saw her approach. "There's my favourite nerd. What's got your panties in a twist, love?"

"You insufferable asshole!" Y/N exploded, not caring that they had an audience of his confused teammates. "The doctor said you needed weeks of rest and recovery! You could have permanently injured your spine!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Relax, babe, I feel great. Probably just overreacted with that whole backboard and neck brace nonsense."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Y/N seethed, hands balling into fists at her sides. Rain began pouring down around them, quickly soaking them both, but she didn't care. "You're incredible, you know that? You have zero self-preservation! No regard for your own safety and well-being!"

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Harry scoffed, though his casual demeanor faltered slightly under her furious glare.

"Dramatic? You could've been paralyzed, Harry! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Her voice broke with frustrated tears. "Don't you understand how terrified I was watching you lying there, not moving? I thought...I thought I might lose you."

Something flickered across Harry's features then. His cavalier mask slipped for just a moment, allowing a flash of guilt and tenderness to shine through that sent Y/N's heart lurching treacherously. Then it was gone, the wall snapping back into place.

"Well, I'm right as rain now, so you can quit your worrying," he said gruffly, turning his back on her.

That was the final straw for Y/N. She grabbed his arm and whirled him around to face her, not caring that they were getting drenched by the downpour.

"You're so fucking reckless with yourself, Harry! Like you have zero self-preservation or even an ounce of common sense! Do you have any idea how scary that was to see you lying there, not moving? How I thought..." Her voice hitched, throat growing too tight to continue as burning tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Through the rapidly blurring vision, Y/N registered Harry staring, chest heaving like she'd actually winded him with her outburst. His hands hung frozen at his sides, knuckles going white as he watched her come completely unraveled. And still she wasn't finished.

"You can't just keep putting yourself in danger like that! Pulling stupid fucking stunts and flipping off your own safety like it doesn't matter! Because it does, Harry. It matters so much to...to me," she finished in a thick whisper, finally allowing a tear to escape and streak down her flushed cheek.

A weighted silence stretched between them, Y/N struggling to regain her ragged breathing as Harry continued gaping at her, utterly shocked by her reaction. Waves of tension rippled through the small space separating them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Harry seemed to recalibrate. His expression went utterly blank for a beat before, out of nowhere, his eyes hardened into flashing jade. When he spoke, his tone was laced with a chilling detachment.

"Why?"

Y/N blinked owlishly. "W-What?"

"Why the fuck do you care so much, huh?" Harry exploded, eyes flashing as he aimed his scathing hostility directly at Y/N. "Last I checked, I'm not your boyfriend or your family. I'm just some dumb jock you study with, right?"

Y/N flinched at the biting sarcasm, feeling tears prick her eyes anew at his harsh dismissal. But Harry was on a roll, fists clenching and unclenching as he visibly wrestled with...what? Anger? Fear? She couldn't tell, but his next words sliced deep regardless.

"So why do you get to flip out and pass judgment every time I take a hit, huh? You think I don't know how to handle myself out on that field?"

"That's not what I-"

"No, clearly you don't think I have any sense of self-preservation or whatever psychobabble bullshit diagnosis you want to armchair next!" Harry barreled over her attempted protest, voice rising in a sharp crescendo.

He took a menacing step closer, using his full height to loom over her in a move that likely would've been intimidating...if his eyes didn't look so pained and conflicted behind that mask of bitter anger. "Tell me, Y/N - what gives you the right to freak out like that, huh? To look at me with those scared eyes like you have any claim over whether I live or die or-"

"Because I love you, dammit!" The confession exploded from Y/N with the force of a meteor strike.

A stunned silence fell over the field as Harry gaped at her, mouth hanging open in shock. Even the rain seemed to pause in the heavy tension between them.

After several moments where Y/N felt her panic rising, Harry finally found his voice again. "You...you what?"

Y/N took a shuddering breath, bracing herself. She had come too far to back down now.

"I love you, Harry," she repeated, slower and more sure this time. "I have for a long time, you idiot. But you're always so reckless and careless 'bout your own safety. You take stupid risks and shrug it off like getting hurt is no big deal!"

She stepped closer, feeling tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks. "Don't you understand? The thought of you being seriously injured, or worse...it terrifies me. Because I couldn't handle losing you. You mean everything to me."

Harry continued staring at her, eyes blown wide and lips parted as if her confession had utterly short-circuited his brain. Y/N pressed on, needing to finally unleash all the feelings she had kept bottled up for far too long.

"I love your stupid jokes and your kind heart. I love how passionate you are about football, even if it drives me mental sometimes. I love the way you always smell like sandalwood and make me feel so safe when I'm with you. I'm in love with every obnoxious, laddish, reckless part of you and I can't keep ignoring it anymore."

She let out a wet chuckle, wiping futilely at her drenched face, her hands still shaking. "So yeah, that's why I care, you absolute wanker. That's why seeing you get hurt destroys me every single time, because the thought of being in a world without Harry Styles in it is just too much for me to bear!"

The words hung heavy in the rain-soaked air between them. Y/N watched Harry open and close his mouth a few times, clearly struggling to find a response. For once, his swagger and cockiness had completely deserted him as her feelings poured over him in an unstoppable tide.

Just when the silence was becoming too much for Y/N to bear, Harry finally seemed to find his voice again.

"You...you love me?" he rasped out, the disbelief and wonder evident in his tone. "Like, you're in love with me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks flush hot despite the cold rain. She gave a small nod, unable to meet his intense gaze. Her heart was thundering so loudly in her ears, she barely registered the shouts and hoots coming from Harry's teammates who had witnessed the whole emotional outburst.

"Shut it, you wankers!" Harry barked over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

In two long strides, he closed the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Harry reached up with one hand to gently cup her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.

"Y/N..." he murmured, emerald eyes searching hers intently. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

She let out a shaky laugh, leaning into his touch despite herself. "And ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way? I couldn't risk that, Harry. You mean too much to me."

Something blazing and tender flickered across Harry's face at her confession. Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, he leaned in until their foreheads were resting together. Y/N shivered at the intimate proximity, at the way his familiar woodsy scent surrounded her completely.

"You daft woman," he murmured, the words fanning warmly across her lips and making her shiver for an entirely different reason. "Don't you know there's nothing I want more than for you to be my girlfriend? To be able to love you the way you deserve?"

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at that, her heart feeling fit to burst from her chest. She had spent so long forcing herself not to hope, not to read into the heated glances and lingering touches she shared with Harry. Could he truly feel the same earth-shattering connection she did?

Her eyes blinked open again at the feeling of Harry's calloused thumb brushing reverently across her rain-soaked cheek. He was staring at her with such naked adoration and longing that it stole the breath from her lungs.

"I'm so bloody gone for you, Y/N," he confessed roughly. "Have been for ages now, if I'm being honest. Thought maybe I was imagining things between us or reading too much into it since I couldn't fathom someone as incredible as you wanting a mug like me."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, to reassure him that she wanted every infuriatingly charming part of him, but Harry pressed on before she could get the words out.

"Then today, hearing how scared you were when I got laid out...how you thought you could lose me?" He shook his head slowly, curls dripping rivulets of rainwater down the sharp planes of his face and throat. "Don't know how I didn't see it before, love. The way you care about me, put up with all my shite...it's because you love me. Isn't it?"

It wasn't really a question, more like Harry was testing the words out for the first time and savoring the way they sounded. A thrill went through Y/N at getting to be the one to put that Look of rare, hushed awe on his handsome face for once.

"Yes, Harry," she answered anyway, both hands coming up to cradle his beloved face. "I'm desperately in love with you. The good, the bad, the reckless...all of it."

A crinkly-eyed grin stretched across Harry's lips then, brighter and more vibrant than Y/N had ever seen before. He wasted no more time closing that minuscule distance between them, capturing her mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss.

Y/N gasped against his lips as the dam finally broke, months of too-long denied want and need bubbling over in heated waves. Harry's hands slid into her soaked hair, angling her head to deepen the embrace as he licked hungrily into her mouth. Y/N clung to him just as fiercely, fingernails scraping against his scalp and shoulders as if trying to physically pull him closer.

They were both panting harshly by the time they wrenched apart, sharing the same air in the infinitesimal space between their swollen mouths. Y/N felt drugged by the glazed, predatory darkness swimming in Harry's blown pupils,by the intimate glide of their rain-drenched bodies.

"Fucking finally," he growled against her lips before diving back in, one large hand splaying possessively across the small of her back.

Y/N hummed in ardent agreement, getting lost in his dizzying taste and scent and touch once more. It felt like a cosmic star had been reborn between them, the force of their crashing inevitability obliterating all the hurt and confusion from before.

Neither was sure how long they stayed like that, trading desperate, drugging kisses amongst the pouring rain. But eventually, Harry pulled away just enough to nose his way along Y/N's jaw, lips dragging hotly up to her ear.

"Let's get out of this downpour, hmm?" he husked, teeth grazing her shell and making her shudder. "Got some making up to do for being such a blind tosser."

Y/N pulled back just enough to catch the incandescent fire blazing in his darkened gaze. Her breath hitched at the onceiled promise flickering there, at the tips of his wicked fingers already slipping beneath the drenched hem of her top.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who had been harboring some pent-up longing and hunger.

Still, there was one loose end she couldn't resist tugging before allowing Harry to whisk them away... "Does this mean you're finally going to start taking better care of yourself?" she asked archly, arching one pointed brow. "No more stupid, reckless stunts for my idiotically brave footballer?"

Harry audibly groaned, dropping his forehead dramatically against her clavicle as his hands flexed with bruising force against her hips.

"Whatever you want, love," he conceded gruffly. "No more injuries or shite, I swear it. Now can we please get the fuck out of here before I embarrass myself further by ravishing you in the mud right in front of my teammates?"

Y/N gave a squeak of surprise as Harry abruptly ducked to gather her up in his arms, hitching her legs around his waist in one fluid movement. He sealed his wicked promise with another lingering, molten kiss that left her head spinning.

"Now, where were we..." he growled darkly before striding determinedly off the field, Y/N clinging just as fiercely in his embrace.

The teammates' raucous catcalls and laughter faded into the rainy background as Y/N tucked her face into the curve of Harry's neck, savoring his familiar sandalwood and smoke and the feeling of being wrapped in his arms at last.

She was never letting him go again. Not if she had any say in it.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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977 notes · View notes

jane-alma · 7 months

Text

Writing advice for new writers

Some things that I wished I had been told when I started writing <3

1. Read, read, read:

Immerse yourself in the works of established authors across various genres. Reading not only exposes you to different writing styles and techniques but also helps you understand the fundamentals of storytelling. It broadens your vocabulary, sparks your imagination, and inspires your own writing.

2. Write regularly:

Make writing a habit. Set aside dedicated time each day or week to write, even if it's just for a short period. Consistency is key to improving your skills and developing your unique voice. Practice, experiment, and don't be afraid to make mistakes – it's all part of the learning process.

3. Embrace the editing process:

Writing is rewriting. Understand that your first draft is just the beginning. Editing and revising are crucial steps that transform your work into its best version. Be open to constructive feedback, whether from friends, writing groups, or professionals. Embrace the opportunity to refine your ideas, strengthen your prose, and polish your storytelling.

4. Find your writing environment:

Discover the environment in which you feel most comfortable and creative. Experiment with different settings, and create a space that inspires and motivates you to write. Surround yourself with objects, images, or music that enhance your creativity.

5. Explore different genres and styles:

Don't limit yourself to a single genre or writing style. Experiment with different forms of writing – from short stories to poetry, fiction to non-fiction. Trying new genres and styles challenges you as a writer, expands your skills. I also find this really helpful If I feel stuck in a project. Whenever I feel really stuck, I like to open a new document, or even get a pen and some paper and just write something completely different. It might just be a silly little poem, or maybe I’ll just write down what I’ve been doing that day. Just something to get out of my head, and then I can get back to my project with a clearer mind.

6. Write what you love:

Write about topics that genuinely interest and excite you. When you're passionate about your subject matter, your enthusiasm will shine through in your writing. Whether it's fantasy, romance, history, or science fiction, let your love for the topic fuel your creativity and captivate your readers.

7. Trust your voice:

Each writer has a unique voice, perspective, and story to tell. Embrace your individuality and trust your instincts. Don't compare yourself to others or try to imitate someone else's style. Your voice is what sets you apart and makes your writing authentic.

8. Enjoy the process:

Above all, enjoy the process of writing. Writing is a creative outlet, a form of self-expression, and a journey of self-discovery. Embrace the ups and downs, the challenges and triumphs, and savor the joy of bringing your ideas to life through words.

And most importantly of all: Remember, every writer starts somewhere, and like any other craft, it takes time, practice and dedication. Happy writing y’all! <3

781 notes · View notes

ilykaveh · 1 year

Text

ꨄ︎ . ⋆ MOONLIGHT SONATA !

thoma.

ABOUT: unknowingly summoning a demon has its consequences. you have to hold up your end of the bargain one way or another...

CONTENT: demon ! thoma , sub fem reader , humping, virginity loss, monsterfucking, possessiveness, corruption , cunnilingus, size kink, dp, praise, overstimulation, multiple rounds, dacryphilia, rough towards the end, gaping, breeding, squirting.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

being from a small fishing town just outside of liyue harbour had its difficulties. life was simple, unexciting - you envied the tales you’d heard of women in the city, spending evenings at lavish restaurants and having grandiose tea parties with guest lists containing a plethora of personalities.

times were especially hard when the bounties from the sea remained scarce, meaning that the exports were low. everybody was becoming increasingly stressed, some even moving away to seek financial growth in some other sectors of teyvat. village elders began to find themselves in ill health, the stress wearing away at them. it was a sorry sight, one you no longer wished to perceive.

whilst taking a late night walk along the nearby river, something glittering upon the riverbed caught your eye. it was buried under a pile of seaweed, loose mud obscuring it ever so slightly. it took a moment to shake the item free, untangling it from nature’s grasp and discovering what you recognized as a drifting bottle, containing a withered note and a rusty old coin. you dunked the body of the bottle in the shallow stream, admiring how the moonlight reflected off of the object. there was something alluring about it, and if you squinted you were sure you could see the faint glow that it emitted - reminiscent of a halo, though that would turn out to be ironic further down the line. . .

upon returning home, you started to better inspect the bottle, illuminated by the candlelight of your kitchen table. there was no indication that water had seeped past the cork, though the scroll of paper inside seemed to have aged. just how long had this been at sea for?

the cork slid out with a single tug; something that was strange considering how tightly it had appeared to be in there. you retrieved the note with the same amount of ease, carefully unravelling it to reveal a what you couldn’t distinguish as being a message or more concerningly, a warning:

“may those whom this bottle graces forever be blessed,

and be gifted benevolence in his behest;

one summon will gift you just this, so strap in! and

for as long as you live, good things will always happen.”

you read the short poem over a few times, unsure of what to make of it. sure, you’d heard tales of spirit summoners and their adventures, though had always assumed they were simply make believe, a story utilized by adults in order to haunt or encourage a child’s imagination. it was a struggle to believe that a key to your success, a tool seeming to claim that it possessed the ability to bring greatness back to the village, had fallen right into your lap.

even if you did want to test the waters and try your hand at summoning whichever entity is referring to, you didn’t know how to go about it. all you had received was a measly note lacking decipherable detailing - for all that you knew, it could merely be a tease, a bottle set adrift by some teenagers hoping to mess with an unsuspecting traveler.

not in the mood to further entertain such childish thoughts, you moved to grasp the bottle once again, wishing to shake the coin out of it. perhaps you could sell it to a merchant and fetch a decent price on the thing.

confusion consumed you as you found that the coin was already resting on the table next to the withered note. surely you would remember taking it out. . . right?

shrugging it off as becoming increasingly sleepy, you picked up the coin to inspect it slightly, flipping it in the air and catching it in a fist. it once again caught the light in an eerie manner, but you let it sit on the table and headed off to bed regardless, leaving the bottle and its contents to be dealt with in the morning.

. . .

in all honesty, you’d forgotten about the bottle. you’d had a peaceful night, more so than usual. mornings began with your usual routine, finding yourself brewing a cup of coffee when interrupted by an uproar of noise from inside the village.

flinging the front door open haphazardly, mug still in hand, you went to further investigate the commotion. it seemed as though the early morning fishing boats had already returned, and you instantly feared the worst, especially when taking into account the declining health of many of the town’s fishermen. a crowd had gathered at the docks, and your initial thoughts became immediately disproven.

the smell of fish was one that you were used to, albeit it seemed stronger than you had ever known. the closer that you got to the boats, the more fish that came into your line of vision. compared to the scarcities that the village had been facing, you were astonished that they’d returned with such an unbelievable amount! surely this would keep everybody fed for a week, along with being enough to trade for some serious mora!

it was only then that your mind began to wander back to the bottle that you’d found; surely these two events were mere coincidences. . . right? perhaps it was simply a blessing from the archons, and nothing more. you recalled tales of entities from another world whom blessed to the regular folk of teyvat before then demanding an astounding price in return.

the thought of being indebted to such a creature shook you slightly, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach. you did your best to attempt to ration with these negative thoughts, instead reminding yourself that such stories were simply old wive’s tales passed down generation to generation in order to teach their young that they shouldn’t rely on others, but should instead retain a strong persistence and work for whatever it is that they wish for - to not take shortcuts nor back down in the face of difficulty.

regardless, you went about your day minding your own business. nothing else was out of the ordinary, other than the fact that the entire village grew busier due to the morning’s large intake. the subsequent boats who returned seemed to have similar luck too, which only amplified the workload for everybody. but again, things were fairly regular outside of that. you even took another evening stroll along the same stream that you’d discovered the bottle in, finding it a calming feature of your daily routine.

afterwards, you returned home as usual. upon unlocking your door, you removed your boots, heading to the kitchen to make yourself a hot beverage.

“hey there, darlin’,”

an unfamiliar voice caught you off guard. a million thoughts rushed through your mind, instinctively grasping for a kitchen knife, should you need to defend yourself from the stranger in your home. you turned around, shaky hands gripping your makeshift weapon. you were met with a man, taller than yourself, donning a cheeky grin and what appeared to be two short horns.

“no need for that,” he noted, moving to take the knife out of your hands with ease. “i’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart.” he mumbled something about how stupid humans were before taking a seat at your table.

“who are you?” your trembling bottom lip told the man all he needed to know: that you’d summoned him without knowing. he picked up the coin that you’d left on the table from the night prior, flipping it and catching it in a fist, exactly the way that you had done.

“the name’s thoma, and just who might you be?”

your eyes grew wide, scanning memories for a reason as to why the name seemed so familiar.

“thoma? like the old inazuman fairy story? you’re not real, i must be imagining this,” you insisted, feeling silly for talking to yourself out loud. clearly your mind was playing a cruel trick on you and there was nobody in your home except for yourself.

“i’m as real as you, darling.” he watched your expression intently, not wanting to come on too strong. “those tales aren’t the most accurate. i just fix people’s problems, promise! my coin finds those in need and gives little humans like you a means to summon me.”

he took your silence as a cue to continue his backstory, watching as you judged the situation to your best ability.

“i’m not technically from inazuma, you know? born and bred in monstadt! i took a ship to inazuma to visit my father. . .” there came the painful chapter that made thoma’s cheery expression falter for a split second. “i got caught in a shipwreck - i was found by a man who taught me how to best help others, to share the kindness that he extended to me, if you will.”

thoma cleared his throat, the bright eyed and bushy tailed demeanour returning.

“he tethered me to this coin, and now i get to travel through the lands and see places i never dreamed of!” you could detect a twinge of pain being masked here, though chose to keep it to yourself. “i help people like you - why do you think there’s an abundance of fish all of a sudden, hmm?”

your heart dropped at that statement. if he’d granted you a favor, you knew that you’d have to pay it back eventually. . .

“what do you want?” your tone blunt and cold.

“lighten up, darlin’! i can’t do anything you don’t agree to.”

“i don’t have much i can offer you.” the room fell silent for a moment, and your voice fell to barely above a whisper. “d-do you want me to sleep with you?”

thoma gasped, stunned at your question. “of course not! what kind of demon do you take me for?”

“i- umm,” you stuttered, “i heard stories of your- your kind offering to erase payments for sex, and i just- i’m sorry. i don’t know what else to offer-”

“relax.” thoma interrupted. “i mean, you’re a pretty thing, so i wouldn’t turn it down. but it’s your choice, doll. you get to pick what i take from you. hell, offer me something like that and i’ll stick around a little longer,”

he didn’t think you would listen to the final part of that, for your brain would instead be spinning with ideas of what exactly you could pay in return.

“so you’d make sure there’s enough fish? i-if i sleep with you?”

thoma didn’t know how to respond, instead giving you space to continue. your gaze averted to the flooring as you admitted:

“because i’m okay with it,”

if you were looking, you would have seen thoma’s eyes darken with lust. he stood up once again, closing the gap between the pair of you. your hands gripped the counter as thoma kissed you with a fervour, lips tasting of sugary treats, though embellished with a salty twinge. upon pulling away from you, the demon licked his lips, eying you up and down.

“a virgin?” he questioned, hungry gaze feeling almost predatory. your cheeks heated up with embarrassment - whilst thoma wasn’t wrong, you didn’t want to admit it. it felt as though he knew your innermost secrets, all from a simple clashing of teeth.

“don’ worry, i’ll be gentle,” he continued, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. his grip on your thighs was firm enough to support you, though tender enough as not to cause you any unnecessary pain. occasionally he squeezed the plush skin, eliciting the cutest little whimpers from you.

thoma was smirking by the time he had maneuvered you both so that he could rest you on the edge of your table, planting himself between your legs. the bulge in his pants was already becoming prevalent as he began to kiss along your neck, sucking a masterpiece of hickies into your sweet skin. if he was going to be your first, thoma planned to do it right.

for a demon, he really was benevolent. the nips against the juncture of your neck were playful, though not enough to actually hurt you - they merely tickled. one of his hands pressed your lower half closer to thoma’s body as he allowed you to gyrate your hips against him subconsciously. his heightened senses could almost smell how wet you were for him, able to detect the slick gathering between your legs without so much as taking a peek for himself. his other hand trailed underneath your shirt, tracing unrecognizable shapes into your skin before reaching the hook of your bra.

thoma took his mouth off of you for a brief moment, allowing him to strip your top half completely bare for him. the demon found himself struggling to think straight, instead overwhelmed by carnal desires to remove the rest of your clothing and plough into your virgin cunt. in a complete contrast to his prior, cheery demeanor, thoma wished to mark you as his property.

he pressed his pelvis closer to you, bulge becoming more and more evident with each passing moment. nimble fingers began to rid you of your remaining clothes; thoma shrugged off his own jacket before throwing his shirt to some unknown location that he could uncover later.

shortly enough, the pair of you were left in only your respective undergarments. thoma couldn’t help himself but chuckle as he saw the damp patch seeping through your panties, unable to resist making a sly comment.

“all this just for me, darlin’?” he dragged a finger across your clothed folds, applying enough pressure to make you squirm, though nowhere near the amount that you desired.

you were already out of your depth. having a man (well, could you even call him such? he was a demon after all) see you in such a vulnerable state felt so foreign, yet at the same time was beyond exhilarating. you felt dizzy, butterflies bursting in your stomach as all you wished for in that moment was to have thoma make you scream.

his fingers danced over your pebbled nipples, pinching at the hardened buds ever so gently. yet he still fought to contain himself, demon instincts working overtime to corrupt his thoughts. thoma’s hand then made a beeline for your pussy, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. your pleas of consent went straight to his crotch, fueling his eagerness to devour your drooling cunt.

as he slid off your underwear, thoma had to bite his lip so as not to groan at the sight. he instantly dropped to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him to get a better look at you.

“so fuckin’ cute,” he mumbled under his breath before diving into your weeping pussy. he began by placing a kiss to your clit, followed by kitten licks around the swollen bud, experimenting to discover how you liked it best. you didn’t know what you were expecting, though were pleasantly surprised to discover that your demon seemed to come with a forked tongue that you hadn’t previously noticed. a guttural groan fell from his lips as your hands shot to grip the two black horns protruding from his head, your cunt muffling the sweet sound. you used this as leverage to pull yourself closer to him, and if it weren’t for thoma holding you in place you were certain that you would have fallen right off of the edge of the table.

he changed things up, licking a long stripe up down your slit until he located the tight muscles of your entrance. with the knowledge that you hadn’t laid with another before, thoma decided it best to insert his tongue, lapping up your juices as he prodded the warm muscle against your opening.

meanwhile, you were reduced to euphoric gasps. you’d only ever played with yourself, and this was a feeling much different to that of which your own hands could conjure. thoma was diligent, not even leaving your clit without attention as he brushed his nose against the twitching nub, one flat palm keeping you spread out for him. the only sounds filling the kitchen were that of your angelic moans and the lewd noises of him slurping at your cunt. before you knew it, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. you tried to hold back, you really did. yet thoma’s mouth was rather heavenly (ironic, considering his demon blood).

“‘m gonna cum,” you whined, grasping thoma’s horns tighter.

instead of replying, he simply patted your thigh a few times, refusing to stop his ministrations and merely hoping that you catch on to his non-verbal cue. you did just that so perfectly, your pretty pussy fluttering around thoma’s tongue as he continued to eat you through your high.

you didn’t even notice that your grip remained on his horns until he patted your wrists, signaling that you could let go of him now. he praised you for how well you had done for him, kissing your forehead and ensuring that you were okay.

in all honesty, he would have been happy to call it even right there and then. the taste of your cunt echoing on his tongue was enough for him to retreat to whatever realm that he hailed from and to jack himself off to. but how could he do such a thing when you sat there begging him for more?

there it was again. the primal urge to stretch your cunt and claim you as his territory. the thought of branding you with a mark, officially claiming you as his, even crossed thoma’s mind. he worked to chase away those ideas by tasting your lips again, simultaneously slipping his hand down to your folds once again.

he coated his middle finger in your slick before aligning it with your hole, continuing to kiss you as a distraction should any pain occur. gently, he circled your entrance before easing his digit into you, massaging your walls as you clamped around him. once satisfied, he added another, beginning to scissor your pussy open, preparing you to take your first cock.

thoma wanted to hear you, instead pulling away from your mouth and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. he cooed your incoherent babbles, telling you that this was necessary before he could fill you up himself, and reminding you that he wished not to hurt you.

he listened as a ecstatic yelp feel from your lips, indicating to him that he’d discovered your g-spot. as the soft pads of his fingers glided across the sweet spot with each thrust, making the stretch even more bearable for you to take. he could feel the pulsing of your gooey walls, the noises you made reminiscent of those you had previously released as you approached your prior orgasm.

“gonna take another one for me, pretty girl?” he asked, though you couldn’t decipher whether or not he meant another finger or if he just wanted for you to cum again.

it turns out you were wrong either way, for the demon proceeded to slip another finger into your messy cunt, as well as have his thumb seek out the nub of your clit, massaging sloppy circles in order to push you over the edge. already sensitive from your previous high, it didn’t take you much longer to shout his name, nails scratching his muscular figure as you fell apart on his hand.

“‘s it,” he muttered, “what a good girl f’me,”

once you had come down from your second orgasm of the evening, thoma pulled his hand away from your pussy. he lifted your head up to look at your face, admiring the glow that the moonlight bathed you in before wiping away the stray tears caused by how darn sensitive your body already was.

“that’s enough, mkay? ‘m not gonna make you-”

“no,” you interrupted, voice barely above a whisper. “need all of you, please. i don’ want you to go yet,”

despite already seeming overstimulated and teary-eyed, thoma couldn’t deny such sweet pleas. he opted for laying you back against the table, planting soft kisses along your body as he finally trailed back to your hot cunt. instead of touching you directly, he pressed his lips along your inner thigh, watching your muscles twitch in anticipation.

“if ya want me to stop, just say so,” he warned before finally slipping off his boxers.

the way in which he had positioned you allowed for you to see his cock as thoma unclothed, the sight making your jaw slacken. it only further cemented the idea in you head that he was indeed not human, for instead of one he possessed two cocks. you gawked, eyes wide as you felt you walls tighten at the thought of having him in you. each appendage was as large as the other, both ribbed and with a slight barb around the tip. you noticed a thick vein pulsing on the underside, wondering if that was an indicator that the demon was ready to pump you full of his load.

as thoma approached you again, he sized you up. he rested one of his cocks on your stomach, his pupils dilating as he took not of just how deep he would be inside of you. concurrently your mind was consumed by fears of whether or not you would be able to take even one of his cocks, let alone the pair at once. could your mortal body even take such a stretch?

your fears were chased away by the feeling of his bulbous head pressing against your entrance, thoma running it along your slit a few times just to collect some of your juices. he looked to you for consent, waiting for you to nod before he started to ease himself into you. his other cock remained bobbing around your stomach; thoma would have pumped his fist around it should he not have been so concerned about you instead.

it felt like a fire had been set ablaze in your belly, tears gracing your lashline as you yelped, yet never once telling him to stop.

“so tight,” thoma uttered, “you virgins always have the prettiest little pussies,”

you couldn’t even retort if you wanted to, mind going blank as the ridges of thoma’s cock brushed against your sweet spot. he took his time bottoming out, revelling in the spasming of your delightful cunt as you cried out in euphoria. you could feel the barbs around his tip tickling your cervix as he bottomed out.

“look at how well ya did, darlin’,” he praised, smiling at you as you blinked through glassy eyes. “maybe i should try fitting them both in, hmm?”

thoma noted that you made no move to say no, allowing his mind to drift to filthy thoughts of truly breaking you in and how damn gorgeous you would look with a cunt full of his cum. this spurred him to begin moving, dragging his cock out of you at a painfully slow pace. his initial thrusts were shallow, waiting for you to start whining for more before pulling himself almost all the way out, until only his head rest in you, and proceeding to slide his way right back in, once again nestling himself against your cervix.

he listened to your body, doing his best not to cause you too much pain as he stretched your poor pussy to mold around his cock. he was aware of how sensitive you were, overstimulated before he could even fill you up.

“go on, cum on me, sweet thing,”

the feeling of you clamping around his cock was a feeling so very different to having you cum on his fingers. it was much more intense, and seemed to finally be his breaking point. you were busy seeing stars as thoma pulled you closer to him, folding you into a sloppy position reminiscent of a mating press, ensuring that he had full access to your exposed cunt as he grabbed his other cock in his fist.

its tip was already leaking precum, a portion of which had already caused a mess on your lower tummy. he pumped his fist a few times before aligning himself with your hole once again, this time pushing your pussy to its limits as he thrust both of his cocks into you.

knowing he was not only the first cock you had, but also the second, filled thoma with a sense of pride, encouraging him to continue his assault on your abused cunt. you took him so well, he wanted to stuff you full of his cum. no, scratch that, he needed to fill you with his cum.

thoma had gone feral, lost his sense of reality as he pounded you like an animal. he used your body, bending it and shifting it so that he could find the best way to bruise your cervix, chasing his own orgasm without any shred of care for you. hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d already cum around his cocks at least once more with how fucking amazing you felt.

words had truly fleed you, leaving you babbling strings of his name as thoma finally began sensing his orgasm on the horizon. he ploughed into you with inhumane speed, truly exhibiting his demon side unlike you had seen yet tonight. if you were level headed enough to look closely, you could see his emerald irises be overtaken by pure black.

all that it took was one nudge against a certain spot inside of you, and you began to fall over the edge once again. this orgasm hit harder than the last few, overstimulation having truly set in. your gooey walls held thoma in a vice grip, enough so to trigger his own orgasm as both of his cocks spurted cum against your womb, the warmth feeling comforting to you whilst in your fucked out bliss. the sensation made your pussy gush, a jet of liquid spilling all over thoma and on your table. sloppy thrusts continued as your squirted, waiting until it had died down to a trickle before pulling out of you.

to say that you were fucked out felt like an understatement. you were exhausted, struggling to move as thoma finished with you. he was intrigued at the way your cunt gaped as he took his cocks out of you, watching ribbons of his cum dribble out of you as you lay unmoving.

he admired your trembling form basking in the moonlight before dealing with you, ensuring he cleaned up and that you got to bed comfortably. the demon even placed a kiss to your forehead once again, this time a silent promise that he’d stick around a while longer.

#delilah.docs #thoma smut #thoma x reader #thoma x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin impact thoma #thoma x y/n #thoma drabbles

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michelle-is-writing · 1 year

Text

Tired, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 800~

A case that takes more than a week to solve usually tires Spencer out to the point that he's zoning in and out of sleep as he enters the apartment. This case was no different. In fact, he was so tired out from everything that the first thing he did was plop down on the couch after dropping his bags by the door. Usually, he'll take them to the bedroom and unpack, and usually, he won't start falling asleep two seconds after pushing his face into my lap either.

Moving the book in my hands over to the side, I peer down at him and smile with an eyebrow raised. "Tired much?" I joke with him, taking a hand away from my book and placing it on top of Spencer's fluffy hair. He tiredly groans in response to my words before turning his face up to greet mine, only to be blocked by the book in my hands.

"I see you've begun reading from my side of the bookshelf," He notes with an exhausted smile. My smile brightens as I look back at the printed words of the many poets and writers during the transcendentalism era. "It fell when I was dusting earlier, and I've always enjoyed poems and short stories, so I decided I would read it," I explain, placing a finger in the book so I don't lose my place.

Planting his face back into my lap, Spencer speaks up. "How far have you gotten?" He asks, his voice muffled by my legs. I look back at the unread page in my hands and look for my previous spot.

"Currently, I'm in the middle of The Birthmark by Nathanael Hawthorne," I answer. "Do you want me to read it to you?" I question him, smiling as I comb my fingers through his hair.

"I would love that," He tells me, his eyes closing soon after. As soon as I see him do this, I just know he's going to fall asleep within a few seconds. Nonetheless, I still begin reading it to him, trying to make him stay awake for just a bit longer by keeping my voice slightly raised.

"Such a union took place and was attended with truly remark- Spencer?" Not even ten seconds pass after I begin reading that Spencer's snores start overriding my voice. Looking down at him, I hold back a laugh before nudging his shoulder. "Spencer?" I say his name. "Spencer...?" I repeat myself, drawing on his name until I see him lightly jolt and wake up.

"Did you already finish?" He asks, his voice already groggy. This time, I don't hold back my amused laughter and watch as the messy-haired goofball stares at me, confused.

"Baby," I begin. "I barely even started before you fell asleep," I inform him, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. Upon realizing it's the truth, he sighs before replanting his head back onto my lap.

"I'm sorry..." he apologizes, reaching a hand up to rest on my knee. He runs his thumb against the soft material of my pajama pants before eventually stopping, growing tired even with that.

"It's okay, sweetie," I assure Spencer, placing his book beside me on the couch before moving to stand up. Taking his hands into mine, I pull him up with me, causing his sluggish body to slump against me. However, Spencer quickly takes this chance to wrap his arms around me and hold me closer to him as he gently sways us in his hold. For a few moments, I savor his touch until the thought occurs to me that if he falls asleep and goes down, I'm going down with him.

"Spencer, honey, let's get you to bed," I murmur to him, receiving a small nod against my neck in response. Still, it takes a few seconds for Spencer to pull his face away from my neck and part from my embrace, showing me Spencer was probably enjoying our embrace like me as well.

After walking to our shared room with Spencer nearly stumbling behind me, I help him change out of his work clothes and into just his boxers before turning to grab him his pajamas. However, before I can grab anything, I feel Spencer wrap his arms around me from behind. "Honey, let me grab your pajamas," I tell him with a small laugh as he almost whines.

"I'm okay, baby," He murmurs as he nuzzles his face into my neck like earlier. "Let's just get to bed," he adds. I can't help but simply nod at his words before turning and walking us over to our bed. As I pull the bed covers over, I feel Spencer begin to place light kisses down my neck. "I'll make it up to you for coming home so late~"

Shaking my head at his sudden mood change, I smirk at him before helping him lie down on our beige sheets and pulling the comforter over him despite his weak protests. "Tomorrow," I promise him, moving over to my side of the bed where I lie next to him. Without a second to spare, I feel myself become trapped in Spencer's arms just as he succumbs to a deep slumber. Spencer's soft snores from earlier return within seconds, making me slightly laugh to myself. He's so tired, it's like he's drunk - hence the sudden want for intimacy. I think I'll have a talk with Hotch tomorrow; he needs to stop sending my boyfriend home half-asleep and unsupervised.

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 17 days

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hi derin!!!!!!!! i had a question about your writing process - how far in advance do you write your serialized stuff? i feel like I’ve read so much about the process of writing novels and short stories and poems, but so little about how people sustain serialized fiction

I try to maintain a buffer of 3-6 months' worth of updates. This is my personal preference and not a universal rule; every web serial author will give you a different answer to this question. My buffer is much longer than most people I've spoke to; 1-2 months is more common. You absolutely need a minimum of 2 weeks, that's about the closest you can shave things, because you need to be able to cover for any minor blips in your schedule such as changing work hours, unexpected trips, or plain old writer's block. The #1 predictor of having any chance of success in web serial art (writing, webcomics, etc.), unless you're Andrew Hussie for some reason, is consistency -- you must have a schedule and you must absolutely stick to that schedule without big stops and starts. Hiatuses will absolutely kill audience interest. Occasional hiatuses in emergencies aren't the end of the world -- if you're in a bus crash, well, the story might have to go on pause for a month or two, and the audience will understand that if you a) tell them when you're starting again and b) don't make a habit of it. Heal if you need to heal, tend to emergencies if you need to tend to emergencies, but if your web serial is stopping and starting constantly for minor reasons like 'I ran out of chapters and I'm too busy/isolated/uninspired to write more', your chances of building a decent audience plummet. So you need a buffer big enough to handle situations like that and not force you into a hiatus.

Which is different for every author. For me, it's 3-6 months.

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