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panandinpain0 · 7 months

Note

Miss Granger x female Slytherin I beg you 🙏🙏 but a nice one

Summer Lovin'

Sorry this took so long! I've got a schedule out now so I'll be doing these requests more regularly <3

Enjoy!

@@@

Requested by: Anon

Hermione Granger x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

The fresh smell of new books would always cheer Hermione up. Not that she was in a bad mood, but it cheered her up nonetheless. Hearing the bell ring above the door was something Hermione had been longing to hear all year, the smell of a citrus scented candle wafting around the sunlit shop.

The walls had chipped brown paint on them, a warm timber color that seemed to be fading, showing the true age of the building. The wood floors had colorful rugs placed here and there, the children’s section a burst of color against the serene atmosphere. Waving to the man at the front desk, someone she’d seen there often over the years, Hermione was on her way to find a new book.

She walked slowly down the fiction aisle, her finger skimming the spines of each book. When she found one that caught her eye she pulled it off the shelf, reading the synopsis on the back.

“Looking for something exciting?” a voice asked, making Hermione flinch in surprise. She looked up at the person next to her, eyes wide. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she laughed and held her hands up to show that she meant no harm.

“You’re fine, it’s just very quiet in here,” Hermione reassured, smiling gently at the girl in front of her. “And yes, something exciting. I’ve been reading non-fiction these last couple of months and decided to switch it up.” She waved the book in her hand around slightly.

“Hence the fiction section,” the girl commented, smiling with amusement when Hermione agreed. “That one is one of my favorites.” She gestured to the book Hermione was holding.

Hermione looked back down at the book, reexamining it. “Is it any good?”

“I’d like to think I have pretty good taste,” she replied, skimming the titles of the books on the shelf in front of her.

“Are you looking for something to read?” Hermione questioned, holding on to her book with more certainty than before.

“No, I just come here to find pretty girls to talk to,” she replied, her face completely serious.

Hermione was slightly taken aback, hesitating before asking, “Really?”

The girl’s serious face morphed into a smirk, shaking her head calmly. “No, I was being sarcastic. But that does tend to be one of the perks of this shop.”

Hermione laughed nervously in response, nodding her head before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Yes, I’m here to find a new book to read. Any suggestions?” She motioned to the shelf they were standing in front of.

Hermione turned serious as she inspected the spines, her eyes catching a specific one. As she pulled it off the shelf she asked, “How do you feel about a mystery with a romantic subplot?”

“Sounds right up my alley, if I’m being honest.”

Hermione handed her the book and they both made their way up to the counter to pay.

“You’ll have to let me know how you like the book,” the girl insisted, scribbling something down on a nearby paper. Ripping it off she handed it to Hermione. “This is my house phone, don't be surprised if my parents answer.”

“I won’t…” Hermione trailed off as she realized she didn’t know the girl’s name.

Catching the hint, the girl stuck out her hand for Hermione to shake. “(Y/N) (L/N), at your service.”

“Hermione Granger,” she returned.

“Hermione?” a voice called from outside the shop, catching both girl’s attention. Hermione’s father waved to her through the window, motioning that it was time for them to leave.

“Ah, I’ve got to go. It was a pleasure meeting you! I hope to hear how you enjoy my book as well.” Hermione smiled, cheeks pink as she said goodbye. She scolded herself as she walked away, reminding herself that she had a new friend and she shouldn’t expect anything more. Well, she had a new and very attractive friend. There’s a difference…

A Week Later…

Sniffling, Hermione gently closed the book and placed it on her lap, wiping at her tears. It had been a wonderful yet heart wrenching book, in which the main character lost the person which they loved most. She took a deep breath as she looked out of her cracked window, reflecting on what she’d read. Taking a sip of the tea that had gone cold, long forgotten after the climax of the book started, she stood up.

Hermione had been using the slip of paper (Y/N) had handed her at the bookshop as a bookmark, so as not to lose it. Now, she’d use it for its actual purpose. Gliding down the stairs, Hermione found the landline in their kitchen, dialing in the number and holding it to her ear.

As it started to ring she felt pangs of nervousness with each ring that sounded. Should she actually call her? It wasn’t a prank, was it? She didn’t think it was- they both were interested in reading and it’d be nice to have someone to talk to about it… What if she’d been making fun of Hermione the whole time and-?

“Hello?”

Clearing her throat quickly, Hermione recovered from her surprise at the voice. “Yes, hello. This is Hermione Granger, I was wondering if I could speak to (Y/N)?”

“Just a minute,” what seemed to be (Y/N)’s mother responded. Hermione heard a distant shout for her, with a “your friend’s on the phone!” after.

After another moment a different voice echoed through the phone.

“Hey, bookshop girl! Hermione, right?” (Y/N) teased through the phone, and her ease comforted Hermione from her anxieties.

“Yes, it’s Hermione. I finished the book you recommended, just now actually.”

An excited gasp could be heard, followed by a, “Did you cry? How much did you cry?”

Hermione let out a somewhat offended scoff and shook her head, even though (Y/N) couldn’t see it.

“For your information I did cry, it was a sad ending! How come you didn’t warn me?”

“What would be the fun in reading it if I’d told you how it ends?” Hermione could hear the smile in her voice.

“I suppose you’re right,” Hermione sighed back, sitting down on a stool near the counter. “Have you finished the one I gave you yet?”

“Yes, I did! You know, I always do the same thing with mystery books. I think I’ve figured out who the culprit is within three chapters and am always completely wrong by the end of the book.”

Hermione chuckled, “I also thought it was Mr. Barnabee until chapter sixteen.”

“It so should’ve been him, right? And that crazy reveal in sixteen where Gracie the mistress pulled out the handkerchief- it was exhilarating.”

“I take it you liked it?” Hermione twisted the phone cord around her finger, giving her hands something to do while they talked.

“Oh yes, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Any more recommendations? I was going to go back to the bookshop this weekend to feed my addiction.”

“Addiction?”

“Of literature.”

Hermione snorted, laughing at the response. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” The smile in her voice was evident.

“Not at all. I can’t seem to stop and it’s draining my bank account.”

Hermione giggled again. “How about this, we can meet up and shop together?”

“Even better. I’ll be there Saturday at noon.”

“I will too.”

“Bye.”

As the line clicked to signal (Y/N) had hung up, Hermione bit her lip and sighed. She stopped mid-giggling and shook her head, scolding herself again. She’d found another friend who enjoys reading just as much as she does, that doesn’t mean she can’t still scare them off. She needed to tone it down.

…

The summer had ended as soon as it began as the girl’s read together. They started going to each other’s houses to read, and Hermione had gotten into the habit of laying her head on (Y/N)’s lap, listening to her tell the most wondrous stories from the books.

They laughed together, cried together, damn near did everything together. None of which helped Hermione get rid of her feelings in the slightest. Little did she know, (Y/N) had started to harbor feelings for her as well, what with so much time spent with each other.

Today they were reading separately, Hermione sitting against the headboard of her bed while (Y/N) laid at the end, legs hanging off as she fingered the corner of the page. It didn’t seem like she was actually reading, but lost in thought.

Hermione’s gaze kept darting from her book to the girl in front of her, blushing every time she was almost caught.

Truth was, both the girl’s were trying to figure out how to tell the other they wouldn’t be at home for the school year. They couldn’t very well tell the other that she was a witch! Well, they could, but they didn’t know that yet.

(Y/N) shifted her position to sit up, facing Hermione and abandoning her book.

“‘Mione?”

“Hm?” Hermione set down her book, giving (Y/N) her full attention.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” She began to worry, her own problems shoved to the back of her mind.

“Summer’s almost over… I just wanted to tell you that I won’t be here when school starts back up.” (Y/N) bit her lip, picking at the skin of her nails. “I’m attending this boarding school, it’s a live-in…”

Hermione let out a somewhat relieved sigh at the admission, setting her book aside and scooting towards (Y/N) on the bed. Taking her hands in her own, Hermione smiled at her.

“I won’t either for the same reasons.” Her worry drained away as she saw (Y/N) shoulders relax and a smile appear on her face. They still wouldn’t be seeing each other until winter break or summer, but at least she wouldn’t be leaving Hermione behind. They both had reasons for not being home.

“Can I send you letters?” (Y/N) asked, playing with Hermione’s hand that rested between them. She knew it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to have a muggle sending letters to a wizarding village, or castle, without knowing, but what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her- right?

Hermione seemed to be going through the same possibilities in her head, but ever since she’d met (Y/N), her priorities had been a bit skewed.

“Yes, you can. I’ll write down the address,” Hermione got up and scribbled on a piece of paper, handing it to (Y/N). She put it between the pages of her book immediately without looking at it, knowing she wouldn’t remember a lick of it anyways. When she sends her first letter Hermione can just look at the address she wrote from to write back.

Hermione sat back down on the bed and the two girls shared a look of understanding. They wouldn’t see each other in person for a while but that doesn’t mean this friendship had to only be for the summer.

(Y/N) reached across the bed and wrapped her arms around Hermione’s neck, pulling her into a hug. Hermione returned the gesture, arms around (Y/N)’s waist as she tucked her head into her neck. She just knew (Y/N) and the boys would get along so well if they’d ever get the chance to meet.

“I’ll miss you,” (Y/N) whispered into Hermione’s hair.

“I’ll miss you more.”

“I doubt it.”

“Don’t fight me on this, you won’t win.”

Hermione pulled (Y/N) back and they both laid on the bed, laughing together.

A Week Later…

They’d said their official goodbyes the night before hugging and holding hands until it got late enough that Hermione knew she wouldn’t want to wake up the next morning. When they parted, (Y/N) had kissed her cheek, handing Hermione a book she’d bought her as a farewell gift.

Sitting in her parents car, Hermione read the synopsis on the back of the book, smiling and flipping through the pages.

There’s no doubt Harry and Ron would hear more about (Y/N) than they’d care to, but that’s just what comes with being friends, you hear about each other’s crushes whether you like it or not. Not that Hermione would ever admit to it being a crush. Or that she’d touched the place (Y/N) had kissed on her cheek every time she thought of her…

Arriving at platform nine and three quarters, Hermione bid her parents goodbye with a hug and ran straight into the brick pillar. Coming out on the other side, Hermione took in the air, already feeling the magic thrumming through it, as if she could taste it.

Taking her bags off of the cart she had pushed them in with, she left it near the entrance and searched for her friends, specifically for the family of redheads, knowing Harry would most likely be with the Weasley’s.

Eventually she found Ron and Harry with them, and they boarded the train. Now they walked down the aisle, searching for an empty compartment, Hermione leading. Suddenly, as she was looking through the windows of one of the doors, someone ran into her. She was pushed back into Ron, who helped her stand back on two feet.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going- ‘Mione?” the extremely familiar voice gasped in shock.

Looking up, Hermione met (Y/N)’s gaze. “(Y/N)?!” Hermione asked back with just as much surprise.

“I didn’t know you were a witch,” they both said at the same time, laughing with each other after.

“Well, this makes things much easier,” (Y/N) admitted, pulling Hermione into a hug after handing her the bag that she’d dropped back.

“You two know each other?” Harry asked, gaze darting down to (Y/N)’s green and silver tie.

“We met over the summer,” Hermione filled in, also taking in (Y/N)’s uniform (but not for the same reasons). “I had no idea you went to Hogwarts,” Hermione repeated, moving out of the way as a few people passed by.

“I didn’t know you went here either! There’s an empty compartment just up here.” (Y/N) led them just two doors up and opened it, letting them all enter and following after.

“So how did you two meet?” Harry asked, looking slyly between the two as they sat across from Ron and himself.

“At this muggle bookshop, we were both looking for something to read and started spending time together,” (Y/N) explained after putting Hermione’s bag above them next to her own.

They spent the rest of the time getting to know each other, Ron still holding a bit of distaste for her house, but pushing that aside as they talked about the Chudley Cannons together. Harry had liked her from the start, well- as soon as she said she disliked Malfoy about as much as the rest of them.

Once they arrived at Hogwarts they got off the train, knowing they’d have to separate soon. (Y/N)’s Slytherin friends waved in the distance, calling out her name.

“Well, I’d better go now. It was a pleasure meeting you two, and it was a welcomed surprise to see you, Hermione.” (Y/N) smiled and took Hermione’s hand, kissing the back of her knuckles. Hermione’s face heated at the action, Ron and Harry deciding they should just start walking to avoid making things awkward.

“Don’t be a stranger. Now that I know you go here I want to spend time with you,” Hermione admitted, not letting go of (Y/N)’s hand until she did it herself.

“I promise, I’ll see you as much as possible. And hey, now we recommend wizarding books to each other.” (Y/N) winked and hugged Hermione goodbye, walking away to see her friends.

Hermione bit her lip before turning to where Ron and Harry had waited for her. She jogged to catch up to them, and they started walking to the carriages.

“So, a Slytherin?” Harry teased and Hermione elbowed him in the side, Ron throwing his head back as he laughed.

This was going to be an interesting year.

End

Hope that was okay! Thanks again for requesting <3

-Author Max <3

#fanfiction #x reader #fluff #writer #fandoms #harry potter #hermione x fem!reader #hermione granger #hermione x reader #x she/her reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x fem reader #x female!reader #hermione granger x reader

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eetherealgoddess · 3 months

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helloo, I just want to tell you I've been your fan since I downloaded tumblr. I can't, your fanfics are to die for. 😭 I'm sorry, I've been the one liking your stories from the start, I hope it doesn't bother you and I'm sorry if it does.

can I request a really really dark supernatural au smut bonten x fem reader? I can't explain how much I love your supernatural au fanfics😭

Although idk who you are specifically, I appreciate all your likes and the request so you don’t have to be sorry!! I embrace all feedback!! Unfortunately, I don’t think I made this dark enough, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! ♡︎♡︎♡︎

Y’all it’s wild cuz blood actually makes me queasy and uncomfortable. Especially gore and yet I write and read it even though I gotta pause to breathe from time to time lmao. This one is FULL of blood and gore. So be mindful!! ꨄꨄꨄ

ꨄBlood Thirstyꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Djinn Au

❦Your blood is enticing to Bonten❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

The male leads are Djinn, based off of the show Supernatural, though I’ve created my own version for the story. I’ve never watched the show but I searched up supernatural monsters and found Djinn.

In this story, they’re tattooed beings who drink blood and eat flesh. They trap their victims by luring them with their glowing eyes that cause a hypnotic trance. Their tattoos will glow the same color as their eyes. They can only be killed with a silver knife laced with an antidote created by Djinn slayers.

Djinn are not mine nor is this the original type of creature. There’s also another definition that has nothing to do with the show so you should research that if you want to find out because I don’t have enough info on that to be able to explain it.

Not fully proofread

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Blood Thirsty

You were quiet, hand covering your own mouth as your eyelids flutter closed. You lean your back against the shelf of books, hiding in an aisle of the abandoned library as you sit with your knees to your chest. You contain your vomit as you listen to the sounds of your friend's flesh ripping apart, the blood splattering against the floors as the putrid smell of death reaches your nose. Your other hand is placed against your pounding heart as your body tenses, hair sticking up as you prevent yourself from having an anxiety attack.

Earlier, you and your friends had gone to a local nightclub just to get out and have fun. Because the night club is owned by Djinn yakuza members, it was a sacrificial night, the full moon being the reason for this massacre. A ritual that was made into an agreement between humans and Djinn. Djinn can survive off of animal prey, which is what they eat until the night it’s time to feed. You had no idea the building was owned by not only a criminal organization but Djinn creatures at that. Not until one of your friends said, “Who knew Djinn could give us such a great time?”

Apparently your other three friends didn’t know either, eyebrows furrowing when they heard the news. It was already dangerous to be out late at night since that’s when they prowl on a full moon, but to also attend a Djinn club is just asking to be somebody’s meal. You smacked her shoulder and asked, “Why did you bring us here knowing that it’s feeding night?”

“They’re hot!” She responds, “If they’re gonna be active tonight then I know I can score at least one in exchange for my blood!” The creatures are known to be attractive, adding to the hype of the tattooed beings. Unfortunately, your friend is so boy crazy that she’ll put everyone at risk just for a chance with a murderous creature.

You all escaped and ran as fast as you could when all hell broke loose, ending in this dark dusty library, choosing your spots to hide in. You knew you couldn’t stay in the same spot for long. You knew you were going to have to move before they stopped feeding. The blood curdling screams of your friends begin to quiet down as you look over to the original friend who put you all in this predicament. She sat at the aisle across from you, eyes wide as well as her own hand covering her mouth as her body trembled. You both eyed each other in terror before you motioned for the door opposite of the sound. It was a few aisles down. You both have the potential to make it as they continue to eat.

You nod at her before standing on your feet, crouching as you peeked behind your aisle, instantly regretting it as you turned back away from the gruesome scene. Holding your stomach you ease your way to the other side of the aisle in front of you, hands trembling as you hold your breath once pausing, listening for any movement towards you. When all you heard was the usual ripping and bone cracking you turned to look at your friend who's following behind on her own side. You both move again and again until you finally make it out of the door, sprinting down the hall until you make it outside.

Your original plan was to keep running until you didn’t hear your friend behind you, turning around you noticed her standing in place, staring to the side.

“F/n! F/n! Come on!” You call out to her, confused as to why she stopped.

“But he’s so pretty.” She says breathlessly, her eyes beginning to glow purple.

You follow her sight, startled when you notice the shirtless man with a large tattoo on the left side of his torso, as well as a symbol on his neck. His purple mullet flowing in the wind as he stands across from her, eyes and tattoos glowing purple. Blood stained his mouth as well as his chest, his hands dripping with the substance as he licked some of the liquid off his fingers. You turn away as you grab her face, turning her to face you.

“Wake up! Wake up now! We’re gonna be killed!” You shake her face as her mouth hangs open, slobber dripping as you shift your gaze back to the male who stood still. You know you should leave her, but you can’t. You know it’s her fault, as well as yours for even being out in the first place on a night like this. Tears fall down your eyes as you contemplate whether or not to leave her to die. The only way she can be pulled out of the trance is by the Djinn releasing her or death.

You could be a savior and offer yourself up, but fear overtook your senses. You couldn’t possibly save her, so you decide to make a run for it while you still can, releasing her face. Before you could run, claws wrap around your wrist, yanking you back as you fall on the grass, bottom making contact with the ground as another tattooed being crouches over you. You noticed the yellow glow against the tiger symbol on his neck as well as the symbol that matches with the purple eyed Djinn on the right side of his chest.

His smile was as cold as his golden gaze, eyes refrained from glowing as he stared down at your fearful face. Blood covered his torso as well as his hands. You could see that his teeth were also stained with red as his smile widened.

“Where do ya think you’re going?”

You could only stare back at his face before you looked over to your friend, your hand reaching out in reflex as you called out to her when she walked over to the male. A hand on your chin forces you to turn your attention back to the brunette with blonde strands hanging over his face.

“Hey! Pay attention to me. I asked you a question.” He eyes you with an irritated gaze, causing you to yelp when he squeezes your chin tightly, claws poking your skin.

“Playing with your food, Kazu?” Another shirtless man walks toward the two of you from inside the building, fresh blood covering his mouth as well as his whole torso while the large tattoo on the right side of his body as well as the one on his neck glows purple.

He stops next to you both, sniffing the air as he eyes you and your friend with a lazy smile.

“Are you radiating that sweet scent, darling?”

“N-no! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You say as you pull back from the man’s grip.

The purple eyed man’s fingers met his chin. “Hm. Of course you don’t. You smell it?” He faces the crouching man.

“Yeah. That’s what brought me over here. Never smelled blood like that before.” The tiger symboled man pushes himself from the ground, standing over you as their intense gazes study you like you’re a new specimen.

Your eyebrows furrow as you notice their eyes becoming dim, faces turning red as they hold dazed looks on their faces.

“Man, your smell is intoxicating.” Kazutora breathes out, chest rising as he drags a large sniff of the air.

“Maybe we should preserve this one, yeah?” The short haired man suggests.

“You think boss’ll allow it?” Kazutora questions.

“Allow what?” A pink haired man entered the scene, walking until he reached the two men standing above you. His hair covered in blood as well as his face, hands, and chest, as if he rubbed himself against the liquid while feeding. You eye the blue glow of his wrist, the symbol matching the iciness of his piercing eyes. He sniffed the air, facing you as he observed your figure. Bending over, he grabs your arm, pulling you up on your feet and smelling the limb.

His face instantly warms, eyes dazed as he continues to sniff the sweet aroma, using a hand at the back of your neck to pull you closer as he nuzzles your neck. You put your hands on his chest as you pushed yourself away, his hand preventing you from moving as you struggled in his grasp.

“What is that?” He pulls back, turning to the others as he releases your neck only to keep a hold of your arm.

Kazutora shrugged. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

You hear the sound of flesh ripping along with a familiar scream of pain. Turning your head, you eye the gruesome sight. The man has your friend’s detached arm in his hand. A big gash is left where her arm used to be as her legs tremble, her eyes staying wide as they continue to glow purple. Blood drips from the wound as he bites into the flesh of the arm, more blood staining his mouth as he moans while satisfying his hunger.

Your hands shake as you eye the display in horror, tears streaming down your face as you watch your last friend become a beast’s meal. Instincts going haywire, you wanted to run away, but if you did, you knew you’d be easily captured by the Djinn considering their abilities. They have the upper hand against the human species. You’ve always wondered why they didn’t just take over. You could only stand there amongst the men, feeling helpless, weak, and vulnerable. It disgusted you to be so human in this predicament. You were going to die and you had no choice but to accept it.

“Awe, she’s crying. I think you’re hurting her arm, Sanzu.” Kazutora jokes, pointing at your tears. You ignored him as you turned your head away from your friend who’s shoulder just got bitten off, using both of your hands to cover your ears, the sound driving you crazy.

Sanzu releases you just in time for you to lean over and vomit. Bile burning your throat as you gag and dry heave.

“Disgusting.” Sanzu hissed as he walked towards the purple mullet. Kazutora leaned over with his hands on his knees.

“It’s amazing how you still smell sweet. There’s no way boss won’t take you home with us.” He beams.

“He does have a thing for sweet things.” Ran states with a cigar in his mouth, sparking it before shoving the lighter in his pants pocket.

A short man walks out of the building, the men immediately turning their attention to him. The atmosphere darkens almost as much as the voids you’d call his eyes. He gave you an icy glare, causing a rapid chill to run up your spine as well as sending alerts to your instincts. Your body tenses as he comes closer. You hear him sniffing, eyeing the blood on his mouth as well as on his chest, bloody claws by his sides. He stops in front of you, gazing into your soul as you shift in discomfort.

His gaze slightly softens as the familiar red hue forms on his face, panting softly as he drags more of your fumes through his nostrils. You eye the blood staining his platinum hair, the stench of flesh and blood surrounding you. His palm rests on the side of your neck for a moment before he uses a claw to nick the skin, slicing a small cut in between your neck and shoulder causing you to flinch. He leans in, warm breath grazing your neck before his tongue slithers against your wound. His sunken eyes widen as his hands grab your shoulders, pulling you in as you place your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away before you yelp from the fangs piercing through your skin.

He gulps your blood down, moaning against you as you fall backwards. He lands on top of you, a hand sliding behind your neck while the other balances next to your head. Your hands grip his shoulders as your eyes shut tightly in pain. You hiss and whimper under him as the others, including Sanzu and Rin, watch as if they’re in their own trance. He finally pulls his teeth out of your neck before he grips the back of your neck tightly as he nuzzles against the wound. Your blood rubs along his face as he engulfs himself. He breathes your scent in deeply before pulling back.

He pants as he sits on top of you with intense eyes. You avoid eye contact by looking at your own blood covering the hand that felt the moisture from your neck. Your hand trembles as you look at the men who stood around you. He stands up and walks away from you. He flicks his head, motioning for them to grab you. When you see this, your fight or flight kicks in causing you to hop up and run. The only place you could go was the forest but if you stayed hidden there until the sun rose, they would have to let you go in order to not break the treaty.

“So she wants a chase?” Rin questions with a smirk as all the executives stand and watch you run.

“Bind her and bring her to the car when you’re done.” Mikey says before he hops into the car.

With a wide grin that shows their sharp stained teeth, the four men began to sprint after you, Ran dropping the cigar in the process.

You run as fast as you can, grunting and breathing hard as your heart pounds. Your chest tightens as the pain in your legs form fast from running at a speed you’ve never had to run. You hop off of mini hills as well as passing many trees. The only light allowing you to see in the moonlight shining through the leaves. You just had to find a hiding spot to survive the night. You wouldn’t have run into the forest if they weren’t blocking your way. You knew you couldn’t pass them.

You groan as the pain becomes almost unbearable, the tightening of your body making it harder to breathe. You knew you’d have to stop soon but your adrenaline is pumping and you refuse to let them catch you. At least not easily. You thank the heavens that you hadn’t worn heels, the platforms of your shoes smacking against the grassy terrain, attempting to not fall on loose twigs or branches. As you run, you also gaze around for any mud to prevent yourself from sliding on it.

You pant, mouth wide open as you peek behind you. Seeing nothing there you continue to run as you look for the perfect hiding place. If you were being honest with yourself, there’s a low chance of surviving without being caught. They probably know exactly where you are and just allow you to run because they like to play with their prey. You’re not dumb. You were just scared. You had to try. Before you could plant your feet into the ground, you run into a figure in front of you, slamming into them.

Your friend's blood stains your clothes, mixing in with your own as the man wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in as he leans over to smell your blood.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met.” A hand covers your mouth, blocking your scream. You’re forced to turn the other way, your back against his chest as he holds you in place. The other men stood in front of you in a curve, staring you down with glowing eyes.

“I don’t think I want to put her in a trance. I like it when they fight.”

“I want a taste. Mikey made you look so good.”

Suddenly, fingers connect with your chin, moving your head to the side as the person in front of you sniffs before leaning into the spot Mikey focused on.

A long tongue glides against your neck, the short haired man moaning softly before his teeth sinks in. You yelp in pain as another bite comes from behind, the man’s younger brother getting his own taste from the other side of your neck. The arm around your waist tightens you in place. You smack Ran’s shoulder as you try to push him away, tears rolling out of your eyes at the pain.

“You guys are hogging her all to yourself.” Kazutora states before snatching one of your arms. He bites into your forearm, eyes widening when the blood hits his taste buds, eagerly draining you. Sanzu does the same to the other arm, shutting his eyes as he drinks from you. You could only cry out in agony as they drain from you. Your body weakens as well as you becoming light headed. This goes on until you begin to see stars, your vision blurring. They pull away from you just in time before you faint, your body weak against the man behind you as you lean back.

Suddenly, your bottom met the ground as the man sitswith his back leaned against the tree. You begin to feel kisses littering all over your neck, lips hitting the blood that continues to ooze out.

“You taste so fucking good.” He whispers as he licks the liquid. Your eyelids are heavy as you sit barely awake. It feels like your black out drunk, going in and out of consciousness from whatever was spiked in it.

You look into the eyes in front of you, the person kneeling before you as two palms hold your cheeks, lips meeting yours as you’re forced to kiss the man. You couldn’t even flinch when he nipped your lip, blood drawing from you as you sat weakly.

“Let me go.” You whisper against his lips, not having enough strength to say much in a louder tone. He pulls back as he smirks.

“Go where? You can’t even walk.” Sanzu says as he crouches beside you, eyeing the wound on your neck and using his fingers to force you to turn towards him.

The red hue is still stuck on all of their faces, dazed eyes as if they’re intoxicated by your scent.

“I wonder what your thighs taste like.” The golden eyed man states before kneeling and pulling your leg open. He leans over and begins licking and sucking your thigh before sinking his teeth in. Another grunt leaves out of your mouth from the pain.

“I wonder how you taste down here.” A hand coming from behind slips into your pants as you try to wiggle out of his grip.

“Stop! Don’t touch me!” You cry out angrily. The hand dips into your panties, slowly rubbing up your slit before landing on your clit.

“I bet your cum is as sweet as your blood, huh?” The man behind you chuckles as he rolls his finger against your clit.

“I think we should find out.” His brother adds on, smiling as they nod at each other. Kazutora moves away from your thigh as he wipes his mouth, licking the blood he wiped from the back of his hand.

Rin pulls his hand out of your pants before reaching under your thighs and pulling them as far back as he could. Ran uses a claw to cut a slit from the zipper of your pants down to your ass. He tears a hole into the pants, stretching them to get a good view of your panties.

“No! Stop right now! Please!” Your head falls back on Rin’s shoulder weakly as you use your hands to cover yourself. Sanzu grabs them, securing your wrists above your head.

Ran leans over as he slices through the middle of your panties. He closes in and takes a big whiff of your vagina. Using two fingers, he gently spreads your lips apart with one hand while the thumb on his other hand pulls the hood of your clit back, revealing the bud.

“What a pretty pussy.” You twitch slightly as you feel a blow of air on your clit.

Your face warms up when you feel his lips grazing your clit, leaving a soft kiss on the bud. He does it once more and then again as he looks at you with intense eyes. You bite your lip, sucking your teeth as you turn away, only for Sanzu to use one hand to force you to look up at him. Leaning over with one hand still gripping your wrists, his lips meet yours. Rin keeps your legs pulled back, piercing his claws into your skin to draw some blood, watching as you flinch in pain, all the while Ran licks up your clit before he gives a few more kitten licks. Finally, he closes his mouth around the bud, sucking and flicking his tongue as he dives in.

Kazutora, who's still kneeling on the ground, licks up the blood dripping from your thighs. You whimper against Sanzu’s mouth.

“I think we should put the bind in between her breasts.” Rin says as you jolt from Ran’s tongue. Sanzu pulls back.

“We should put it on her face, that way everyone knows who she belongs to.”

Kazutora pulls back. “But she has such a pretty face, I don’t want to mark it.”

Ran continues to suck your clit as he lowers his head to lick some of your slick from the hole itself, his long tongue pushing inside as he uses a finger to rub your clit. He doesn’t pay much attention to the conversation, too obsessed with drinking your juices as your pussy contracts. Your head falls back with your eyes shut tight.

“Fine. Take her arms.” Kazutora grabs your arms as he stands up, Sanzu kneeling to tear the middle of your top open, revealing the lack of bra.

“Wow, you were already ready.” Kazu beams.

Sanzu sticks out a claw as his eyes glow, along with his tattoo. The beam reaches his hand as the claw meets with your skin, Rin holding you tighter as you scream in pain. The claw penetrates your skin as it drags into the shape of their Bonten symbol, blood dripping down as you struggle in his grip.

“Stop! Stop! It fucking hurts!” You cry out, your own nails digging into the skin of your palms. Kazutora forces you to turn to him with one hand, trapping your screams with an open mouthed kiss.

The contrast of pain between your chest and pleasure from your pussy shamefully causes you to near your orgasm as Ran tongue fucks you and rolls a finger around your bud. Your pussy drips with juice as your body convulses, just in time for the bind to complete as it glows a blue color that swirls into all of their signature colors before it resembles a normal tattoo. You yell out as you finally reach your limit, creaming on his face as he laps up the juice. Not long after, you finally pass out from all the overwhelming sensations.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

Special Interest 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, age gap, creep behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The smooth jazz fills the aisle of the bookstore, a cozy warmth blowing from the vents above as you unwrap your scarf and let it hang loose from your neck. You unbutton the top of your coat, fanning yourself as the nip of winter fades. You tuck your gloves away and hike up your bag, stepping close to see the titles on the spines. The fog's finally gone from your lenses.

You have that one, oh and you already know how to crochet potholders, no you're looking for a challenge. Something different. You need new techniques if you want to keep your Etsy shop alive. You're not struggling... yet.

You pull out a book on how to crochet replicas of different plants; like a cactus or a daisy. You could do little faces on them or do a rainbow of colours. Your mind runs crazy with all sorts of alterations. You open it and flip through the pages, hiding behind the cover as you turn and lean on the shelf.

"Cute," a voice draws the book down an inch and you look down the aisle at the man facing the opposite shelf. He taps the shelf beneath the 'Gardening' sign as he smiles at you, "you know, they got a whole bunch of books about real plants down here."

You bring your brows together and furrow your nose. Who is this strange man judging you? The gall. I mean, look at him. He's a bit too old to be commenting on your interests.

"Uh, thanks, but I don't like to get dirty," you say without thinking. You're not the type to be rude but something about his tone really irks you.

You shift back to face the shelf and close the book. You slide out the other with sweater patterns. Those take so long, you haven't added those to your catalogue. You put it back and adjust your glasses as you pause and tap the book in your hand. Oh, great idea and you don't even need a pattern. You could do book covers and little bookmarks!

"You knit?" The man startles you again as he approaches.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, "crochet, but I can knit too."

"Huh, my mom does too. Tried to teach me but I'm all thumbs. I'm better with plants," he says.

You shake your head and focus on the shelf. You don't get why this guy is bugging you. On first glance, he's got at least ten years on you, maybe more. And why the heck is he bringing up his mom? You don't know her.

"Look, I hope I didn't come off rude, I was just... curious. I've never seen anyone knit a cactus before," he puts his hand on the top shelf.

"Crochet," you correct him again, keeping your chin set ahead of you.

"Yeah, crochet," he chuckles, "sorry, I'm a bit ignorant.”

You bite your tongue. You've heard of older men being a bit much but have lucked out in not being bothered by them. Until that moment.

“Cole,” he offers as he pulls his hand off the shelf, holding it out.

You don't even look. You're too nervous and honestly, annoyed. You want him to go away.

You count your losses. You don't need to splurge on a pile of books. One is fine, you can see if there's anything new on Pinterest.

You turn on your heel and head down the aisle, away from him. You hear him huff as you turn down the next, tempted to stop and look at the Tarot but wanting to get far away. You could probably hide out in the non-fiction section until he evacuates.

As you get to the end of that aisle, you find the book crushed against your front. You bounce off another person and stumble back. You look up at the stranger, Cole. He puts his hands up defenseless and grins.

“Oops, sorry, we keep running into each other.”

“Uh, alright,” you try to sidestep him but he does the same. You both move in the same pattern, back and forth, getting in each other's way, “okay, okay, just stay still.”

He stops and stares with wide eyes. You slowly sidle by, watching him to make sure he doesn't try anything. This is getting too weird for your liking.

You twirl and swiftly march away, hugging the book tight as you try not to trip in your hurry. You're too exposed at the checkout line so you surpass it and flee towards the comic book section. If that doesn't work, the bathrooms are right behind that.

You finally look back again as you get to the graphic novels. You can only see shelves. You're alone in the aisle, grumbling to yourself in agitation. “Creep.”

You take your time wandering, thinking maybe you might be able to get into Batman as you admire the art on each cover. Your adrenaline cools and you feel a bit less addled.

You sneak around the perimeter of the store and find your way back to the craft section. He's gone. Hopefully he went back home to his sad plants.

It's difficult to shake your unease. You pick out some of the needles they have hung with other small accessories and head to the till.

You join the line, your mind already trying to decide what you want to order at the cafe. As you step up, just about to get your turn at the counter, you feel a nudge, a silty voice rolling into you.

“Uh, excuse me,” the timbre is all too familiar.

“Really, dude,” you snap around, “take a hint.”

“You dropped your gloves.”

He holds up your wadded gloves and you cringe. You force a smile and snatch them away. “Thanks,” you grit out.

“Yeah, just being a nice guy,” he shrugs, “trust me, I got the hint.”

He steps back on his heel and turns his attention to the table of pens and other stationary that separate the tills from the rest of the store. You sniff and roll your eyes, quickly flitting up to checkout. The sooner you're gone, the better.

#cole turner #dark cole turner #dark!cole turner #cole turner x reader #ghosted #bookstore au #au #drabble #series #special interest

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

Text

Love Comes Quietly Ch 1

Future Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, minor talk of fbi type situations, alcohol consumption.

Alex always felt like it was a breath of incredibly fresh air whenever she got to get out of DC for something that wasn’t FBI case related. Since the divorce she’d almost started to feel a little antsy, like there was something else she should or could be doing to take up her free time now that the house was empty. She and James were still in touch rather frequently, everything had been completely amicable after all, just two people realizing they were going down different paths in life, even if they still cared about each other, they knew their part of the journey together was over. He’d stayed in the house with her while they sorted everything out and got papers signed and figured out who things belonged to and who wanted what before he moved off to Boston to accept the teaching position at Harvard.

Which is exactly how she had found herself on the Harvard campus for a week and a half guest lecturing in a handful of different classes. Despite James being the one to make the original invitation it was Daniela who’d convinced her into staying for the full week. They’d worked together at Georgetown when Alex had first started teaching and were hoping to finally be able to play catch up in between work hours.

Alex had done one lecture already today, using the free time before lunch to poke around the campus a little bit. There were more than enough interesting places, including a handful of bookstores that were home to a lot more than text books and required readings. She wandered the aisles, skipping the non fiction, she had enough of those kicking around the house already. She slowed a bit through the fiction books, though her face grimaced at the mystery and crime novels, there was no need for those, she saw enough of that in her every day life. The last thing she needed was to come home from a case and have that be her bedtime reading. She slowed when she hit the romance section, it was cheesy, she was the first to admit it, but sometimes they just hit the spot, a pleasant over dramatic sappy distraction from real life. Her secret guilty pleasure, if you will.

Her fingers trailed along a couple of books, nose scrunching when nearly all the covers featured a broad chested half naked man. Something, rather a person, caught her eye a bit further down the aisle. It was as if the two of you were both trying to outwait the other before going for the books you actually were interested in. She surveyed you out of the corner of her eye, you were old enough she knew the chances of you being a student were unlikely, especially considering you didn’t have any kind of bag with you. Key ring dangling from your fingers, bulge of your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. You were dressed just on the brink of business casual, but not nice enough that she thought you were a professor.

She watched as your lips moved into a tiny grin, as if a fond memory was waving through your brain and you reached out to the shelf, picking out a book that she recognized the cover of, ‘Love Letters. 2000 Years of Romance’. You flicked through a couple of pages, eyes scanning the text with a little smile on your face before you flipped the entire books worth of pages and she just knew you were inhaling that new book smell. You turned the book over, reading the dedication on the back before slipping it back into its place on the shelf.

“Oh now that’s a good one, it’s not a put it back book.” The words left her lips before she even really realized she was saying them. You practically jumped, despite being more than well aware there was someone else in the aisle with you, looking up to her as you laughed softly.

“Oh! I know, I’ve read it, one of my faves. My copy’s just getting a little worse for wear.”

“A little wear and tear means a book’s well loved.” She smiled softly, “my copy usually lives on the bedside table.”

“Perfect bedtime reading.” You smiled and for a moment you thought she was going to turn back to the shelves but she looked you over briefly.

“You’re… not a student here are you?”

“What gave it away.” You laughed, “and no, just..” you checked your watch, “waiting for a friend to finish a lecture. Need an expert opinion on something.”

“Anything I could help with?” She asked and it was your turn to survey her, the blazer, shoulder bag no doubt with at least a laptop and lecture notes in it, the smudge of white board marker on her right hand.

“Dunno, what’d’you teach?”

“Well, technically just guest lecturing this week, but linguistics.”

“Ah…” Before you could comment that you were waiting on a friend who taught forensic science a man popped into the end of the aisle, a small grin on his face as he wandered down to her side.

“Now why am I not surprised to find you in the romance novel section?” He greeted with a tease and her cheeks tinged pink as she turned to him, “ready?”

“Yes.” She nodded in your direction and you gave her a little salute once his back was turned before you turned back to the shelf of books in front of you with a soft sigh, checking your watch once more. You didn’t have long before you had to be back at the office, you were hoping Daniela would hurry the hell up. Letting out a little groan you rolled your eyes, maybe if you met her at her classroom this wouldn’t take as long.

Considering it was Friday, Alex shouldn’t have been surprised when she was roped into after work drinks and snacks with Daniela and a few other friends. She was at least thankful that they’d ended up off campus, not wanting to be plagued with students or follow up questions from lectures during the week. City Bar Back Bay was the perfect place for them, a trendy lounge tucked away in the corner of a hotel on Exeter Street. There were cocktails, a few glasses of wine, a jug of sangria and plates of chips, cheese, soft pretzel bites and more spread across the table for everyone to share. Everyone’s spirits were lifted at the knowledge it was the end of the week, laughter and conversation flowing easily throughout the small group.

“So?” Daniela questioned, nudging at Alex’s arm, “how’re you liking Boston?”

“You ask that like I haven’t been here before.” She replied with a laugh.

“But now you’re teaching here… and at Harvard, nonetheless. That’s gotta be at least some kind of bonus points.”

“Daniela…” Alex eyed her with a chuckle, “I didn’t move here when my husband suggested it, I’m not going to uproot my life just because you hate having to do certain parts of your lesson plans.”

“Yeah.” Caitlin cut in from her other side, “I keep telling you to just hire a TA.”

“Maybe I just prefer having a friend come to town a couple of times a year.”

“You’re lazy.” Caitlin replied, stealing a chip off her plate, “where’s Murphy? She mention bailing or anything at lunch?”

“No, she said she’d definitely be here. She’s probably caught up at work.” Daniela turned back to Alex with a near whine, “c’mon… what about splitting the year? Half in DC, half here?” Alex laughed, affectionately rolling her eyes.

“Two weeks at a time is my absolute max. I love my job, and as much as I enjoy teaching, it doesn’t jump higher, I’ve spent way too long working to get where I am.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Daniela waved her off with a playful groan, she was about to say something else when a voice rung in from behind her.

“I am so sorry I’m late!” You swept in quickly, hand on her shoulder as you leant around her from behind to kiss her cheek before dropping into the open chair at the head of the small table.

“Yeah, where the hell have you been?” Daniela asked.

“Ugh.” You rolled your eyes, “turns out when you kill someone there’s an extra forty five minutes of paperwork.”

“Should I be concerned?” Alex’s ears had picked up the words, turning back your direction with a tease in her voice and a laugh on her cheeks, pulling a loud laugh from Daniela.

“No, Murphy’s FBI.” She explained.

Alex’s eyes met yours from across the table and a tiny grin split your lips as both of your heads tilted in recognition from the bookstore that afternoon. You’d changed half your outfit from then, no doubt wanting to get out of work clothes, button up swapped for a cotton tank while the blazer was replaced with a plaid flannel, your hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, soft curls swaying as you turned your head to glance back to Daniela.

“Y/N, meet Alex Blake.” She gestured between the two of you and you extended out a hand that Alex was quick to shake.

“Oh!” Your eyes widened, “Professor Blake. I’ve heard wonderful things.”

“All lies I’m sure.” Alex chuckled with a smirk.

“There’s an Agent in there somewhere too.” Daniela teased, pouring out a glass of sangria to slide over to you.

“Don’t forget Doctor.” Caitlin cut in, snagging another treat from Daniela’s plate.

“Three titles,” you mused, “now that’s impressive.”

“Gives me a nice rotation depending on who I’m talking to.” Alex joked with a shrug and you chuckled.

“So linguist in one column.” You ticked it off on your finger, “gonna take a stab in the dark and say PhD in the next.” She nodded, “but what department for the last?”

“Behaviour Analysis Unit.”

“No fucking way.” Your arm dropped to the table, a little harder than you’d intended.

“What?” Alex asked with a small laugh, taking a sip of her drink.

“I just put in papers for an application to fill the open spot on that team.” You laughed, “I’ve got an interview with an Agent… Prentiss? Next week.”

“Oh thank god.” She let out a huff of a sigh, “we’ve been too shorthanded for too long. I was barely able to get away for this week.”

“Okay, I’m grabbing another pitcher.” Daniela grabbed the empty jug of sangria from the table top, hopping off her chair and Alex was able to slide into it to continue the conversation with you.

“So you’d say there’s a decent chance then?” You raised a brow over the rim of your glass.

“As long as Prentiss thinks so.”

“Is she a hard ass?”

“No.” Alex laughed, chewing on her lip for a moment, “she’s…. driven, loyal, passionate, has high expectations but also incredibly understanding. If you look good on paper things will probably look good, but honestly to her it probably matters more what you manage in person.”

“How so?” Your head tilted, “obviously it takes a particular type of person to be a profiler, but you’re hinting at more than that.”

“Nicely done.” She nearly smirked in your direction, “our team is a family. I know most places when you hear that term it’s a red flag you should run for the hills, but that’s not true here. We spend more time together than with anyone else, our secrets and pasts come out when we’re getting into the minds of unsubs or trying to talk them down. There are things my team knows that some of my closest friends of family have never been told, and that makes us stronger, makes us work together even better.”

“Hmm.” You nodded, sucking back more of your drink, “good to know.”

“You said your interview’s next week?” She asked and you nodded again, “I get back on Tuesday, I’ll be sure to bring your name up to Emily.”

“That’d be amazing!” You beamed, eyes widening with excitement and Alex smiled softly back at you.

She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but even from the very brief moment in the bookstore earlier she already knew that she liked you. Something was simply drawing her to you, like the universe wanted you to know each other, that you were meant to cross paths. After all, you’d already done so twice in one day without even knowing the other existed when you woke up that morning. Now that you were actually getting to spend some time together the two of you clicked instantly, falling into conversation like you were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. There was no awkwardness or weird small talk, just laughter and little jabs as if you knew exactly how to tease the other person without offending them. She knew deep within her that she had met someone that day that would be an integral part of her life, no matter how the interview ended up going.

Alex was about to elaborate to you when Daniela came back to the table with a tray in her hand and a wicked grin on her cheeks.

“It is time for shots!” She shrieked and Alex rolled her eyes.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Alex, c’mon.”

“Yeah!” Caitlin joined in, passing shots from the tray to the table, “I mean we do have a reason to celebrate after all!”

“Exactly!” Daniela high fived her, winking in her direction before raising a shot glass in Alex’s direction, “we didn’t get to celebrate your divorce when it happened, so now is as good a time as any.”

“Daniela!” Alex half scolded half laughed and the other woman simply shook her head, pointing to the shot until Alex huffed, picking up the glass and you followed suit. Glasses clinked together before liquor was sunk back, little winces echoing through the group.

“Okay!” Daniela shook it off, “that’s the liquid courage I needed.” Her eyes searched around the bar, “try to find myself a man.”

“On it.” Caitlin scooped up their drinks, handing Daniela hers before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

“You know you’re more than welcome to join them.” Alex prompted, her hand squeezing at your arm on the table top and you laughed.

“That would require me being interested in men in the first place.”

“I’m sure there’s a few nice girls out there too.”

“Meh.” You replied, sucking back at your drink, “not into it. Besides, they invite you out and then bail? Rude. I mean…” you glanced across at her, “unless you’d rather bail too, hit up the guy from your lunch date?”

Alex couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at that, her smile reaching her eyes as she looked back to you.

“That was my ex husband.” She laughed, “we’re still good friends, just, no longer in love.”

“I’m sorry.” You frowned slightly.

“Don’t be.” She shrugged with a smile, “it wasn’t anything hurtful or sad. We got married young, we’re both incredibly passionate about our careers and we spent a lot more time working than together. Things simply… fizzled out.”

“I’m glad you’re still friends.”

“Me too.” She smiled warmly back at you and the two of you slipped into an easy conversation.

Two rounds of drinks later and Caitlin had disappeared from the bar with her conquest while you and Alex were still trapped in an endless conversation that neither of you wanted to halt. Even when Daniela would swing by every so often to check in she could tell that the two of you were clearly fast friends and there was no worry about her leaving the two of you alone any longer. So she took full advantage after another tequila shot to bite the bullet and see if the man she’d been flirting with wanted to go someplace else.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, having not connected with someone like this in what felt like years and Alex would tell you she felt the same. She had just finished a story when your phone buzzed on the table top and your face fell when you glanced toward it.

“Got a case?” She asked, knowing the feeling all to well.

“Not now.” You sighed, sucking back the rest of your drink, “but my weekend is officially no longer a weekend. Gotta report to the office at nine tomorrow.”

“Ugh.” She grimaced.

“Yeah.” You huffed, sliding off the stool, thankful at least that Daniela had taken care of the tab already. “It was really nice to meet you Alex.”

“Right back at you.” She smiled softly.

“Night.” You smiled, giving her a little salute.

“Hey!” Her hand wrapped around your wrist when you were a mere foot away, tugging you back and you raised a brow in her direction, “can’t just leave without my info.”

“Oh?”

“I want to know how that interview goes.” She dug into her pocket, pulling out a business card to hand off to you, “I was serious about thinking you’d make a good fit to the team. I’ll send a text to Emily in the morning, put in a good word.”

“Thank you. Really.” With a smile, you pocketed the card, “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”

“I’m sure it’ll be good news.” She assured with a grin, watching the joy spread through you as you finally did turn from the table, waving goodnight to her once more before you vanished through the bar door.

____________

@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @leelizzzle @mysticfalls01 @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss l @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @rustyzebra @aliensaurusrex

#alex blake #alex blake x reader #criminal minds #alex blake criminal minds #love comes quietly #criminal minds fanfic #alex blake fanfic #alex blake series

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galactic-academia · 2 months

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There is a fury to Terry Pratchett’s writing: it’s the fury that was the engine that powered Discworld. It’s also the anger at the headmaster who would decide that six-year-old Terry Pratchett would never be smart enough for the 11-plus; anger at pompous critics, and at those who think serious is the opposite of funny; anger at his early American publishers who could not bring his books out successfully.

The anger is always there, an engine that drives. By the time Terry learned he had a rare, early onset form of Alzheimer’s, the targets of his fury changed: he was angry with his brain and his genetics and, more than these, furious at a country that would not permit him (or others in a similarly intolerable situation) to choose the manner and the time of their passing.

And that anger, it seems to me, is about Terry’s underlying sense of what is fair and what is not. It is that sense of fairness that underlies Terry’s work and his writing, and it’s what drove him from school to journalism to the press office of the SouthWestern Electricity Board to the position of being one of the best-loved and bestselling writers in the world.

It’s the same sense of fairness that means that, sometimes in the cracks, while writing about other things, he takes time to punctiliously acknowledge his influences – Alan Coren, for example, who pioneered so many of the techniques of short humour that Terry and I have filched over the years; or the glorious, overstuffed, heady thing that is Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable and its compiler, the Rev E Cobham Brewer, that most serendipitious of authors. Terry once wrote an introduction to Brewer’s and it made me smile – we would call each other up in delight whenever we discovered a book by Brewer we had not seen before (“’Ere!’ Have you already got a copy of Brewer’s A Dictionary of Miracles: Imitative, Realistic and Dogmatic?”)

Terry’s authorial voice is always Terry’s: genial, informed, sensible, drily amused. I suppose that, if you look quickly and are not paying attention, you might, perhaps, mistake it for jolly. But beneath any jollity there is a foundation of fury. Terry Pratchett is not one to go gentle into any night, good or otherwise.

He will rage, as he leaves, against so many things: stupidity, injustice, human foolishness and shortsightedness, not just the dying of the light. And, hand in hand with the anger, like an angel and a demon walking into the sunset, there is love: for human beings, in all our fallibility; for treasured objects; for stories; and ultimately and in all things, love for human dignity.

Or to put it another way, anger is the engine that drives him, but it is the greatness of spirit that deploys that anger on the side of the angels, or better yet for all of us, the orangutans.

Terry Pratchett is not a jolly old elf at all. Not even close. He’s so much more than that. As Terry walks into the darkness much too soon, I find myself raging too: at the injustice that deprives us of – what? Another 20 or 30 books? Another shelf-full of ideas and glorious phrases and old friends and new, of stories in which people do what they really do best, which is use their heads to get themselves out of the trouble they got into by not thinking? Another book or two of journalism and agitprop? But truly, the loss of these things does not anger me as it should. It saddens me, but I, who have seen some of them being built close-up, understand that any Terry Pratchett book is a small miracle, and we already have more than might be reasonable, and it does not behoove any of us to be greedy.

I rage at the imminent loss of my friend. And I think, “What would Terry do with this anger?” Then I pick up my pen, and I start to write.

Extracted from Neil Gaiman’s introduction to A Slip of the Keyboard: Collected Non-fiction by Terry Pratchett

#terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #neil gaiman

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rosalinrabbit · 1 year

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Wildflower, Wildfire

Over-Pollination part 2 / Blue Banisters Track List

Pairing: Morpheus x Nymph!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight hurt w/ comfort, fluff and feelings, relationship doubts, pre-existing relationship, soul mates?, Morpheus likes to tease reader, smut, sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, possessive sex, slight dom!Morpheus x sub!Reader, cum obsession, begging, breeding kink? Porn w some plot.

Summary: Since Desire’s interference in your relationship with Morpheus, things have been going very well for the two of you. Yet you can’t deny the aching worry in your heart that you’d end up like his other lovers. When you begin to question your place in Dream’s realm, it appears that Desire is trying to interfere once more.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Continuation of Over-Pollination :> Also author makes up some bullshit about how the Dreaming works lol enjoy. Will cross-post to Ao3 later today.

SMUT 18+ / Minors DNI / You are in charge of your own media consumption. Please read responsibly.

Do not translate or re-upload any of my work. Works are only cross-posted on AO3.

< I’ll be like a wildflower

I live on sheer willpower

I’ll do my best never to turn into something

That burns, burns, burns… >

-Lana Del Rey, Wildflower, Wildfire

Entering through the back doors of the palace, you sighed, stretching your arms over your head. Your dress was unwrinkled and your feet, while bare, showed no signs of where you’d been, such was the magic of the Dreaming. You had spent most of the day in the gardens among the flowers, and while you greatly enjoyed the work, you always felt sleepy by the end of the day. Morpheus may not need to sleep, but you were not originally from the realm. Though not human, your body still required some sort of rest to maintain function. However, you never liked going to sleep without seeing your partner.

As Morpheus would likely be busy for a while longer, you made your way to the library, bare feet padding through the castle quietly until you arrived at the familiar door. You often came by at least once a day, picking up or dropping off books and chatting with Lucienne.

“Lucienne?” You called, voice traveling through the long halls with books from floor to ceiling.

“Up here!” You heard her faint voice from above, and ascended the stairs to find her. When you finally found her, she was pulling books off a particular shelf into a stack on the floor, likely going through a certain topic and re-arranging.

“Do you need any help?”

“No, no, my Lady, I’m quite alright. There is, in fact, a method to all of this.”

“I can well believe that,” you smiled. “And stop calling me ‘my lady!’ You know that is a title I do not possess.”

“Perhaps one day,” she smirked. “I know you are still worried that he is not sincere, but I promise you, it is different this time.”

“I hope you’re right. I just couldn’t bear for him to one day regret it, yet live amongst those in his realm that call me their lady. There have been others before me, there may be more after.”

As much as you loved Morpheus, and as much as he seemed to love you now, fear remained in your heart that you would be like the others. Even Queen Titania, who ruled over the fae and the nymphs, was rumored to have had a brief and tumultuous affair with the King of the Dreaming. And yet, people had begun to call you “my lady,” and as it went on, you started gently correcting them, not wanting to take a position that was not truly yours.

“I would never lie to you, y/n. If I say it is different, I mean it. For all of the loyalty I have to my King, I’d never see you hurt. If I had doubts, I’d tell you.”

“I know,” you assured her. “I trust you whole-heartedly, dear Lucienne.”

“I am glad you’re here, as there have been plenty of new books appearing in the non-fiction section regarding the effects of deforestation and pollution on the greater environment of the waking world. Seems like you’ve been making some progress.”

“I am just happy Morpheus lets me interfere in the dreams sometimes,” you laughed, elated that you were successful in turning attention towards mother earth. “It’s a slow process, influencing the waking world. Seeing any improvement is exciting.”

“Y/n!” Matthew cawed from somewhere nearby, and as you and Lucienne looked up, you spotted the black raven hurling toward you. You quickly stepped to the side, and he crashed into the bookshelf next to Lucienne instead of you, causing the pile Lucienne had been making to fall. “Y/n- OW!”

“Matthew,” she scolded. “What have I told you about being careful in the library!”

“Sorry- sorry,” he spoke, shuttering slightly as he righted his wings. “It was an emergency! Morpheus wanted me to warn you that Desire has been spotted in the Dreaming. He has gone to look for them now!”

“Not again,” you sighed. While you didn’t harbor any ill-will towards the other Endless, you certainly did not appreciate being drugged without your will. You would think that would be a given, but even though Desire had successfully meddled in yours and Morpheus’s lives, you feared they wouldn’t stop while they were ahead. What’s to say they wouldn’t ruin your relationship as easily as they started it?

“Maybe you should leave the library, this is where they found you last time,” Lucienne suggested, sending you an apologetic glance.

“I’ll be in Morpheus’s solar,” you spoke, leaning down to pick up a book that had landed by your feet. “I doubt they could have gotten in there- right?”

“Unlikely?” Matthew gave what seemed to be a shrug, before flying over to you and resting on your shoulder. “I’ll come with you! If Desire causes trouble again for you, Lord Morpheus surely will never let me hear the end of it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes and gave a playful swat to the worried bird before bidding goodbye to Lucienne and heading back down the stairs of the library. The halls seemed quiet as usual, and you made it to Morpheus’s solar without trouble. Matthew left your shoulder and perched on one of the arm chairs by the fireplace as you closed the door.

Matthew would not sit still, hopping from chair to chair as you settled into a loveseat by the window, overlooking part of the gardens that you worked in nearly every day. He wasn’t in here often, usually if he did rest he went to his chambers which were connected by a short hallway between, but you wondered if he had ever spotted you working from the windows. Despite Matthew’s endless rattling on, you found your eyes growing tired, and slipping closed. You wouldn’t sleep, you told yourself, you tried to keep listening to the raven talking nearby.

You definitely had fallen asleep, and your only tell was how much the sound of the door opening startled you. Your head tilted up, and you saw a very distraught Morpheus in the doorway.

Matthew had squawked when the door slammed open as well, but was collecting himself. “My Lord! There you are! I watched over Y/n the whole time, Desire didn’t find her.”

Morpheus showed no indication of hearing what Matthew was telling him, for as soon as his dark eyes met yours, they were locked on you.

“Matthew?” He eventually spoke, still not looking at the raven and keeping a quiet, even tone.

“Yes, sir?”

“Thank you. Now get out.” He ordered quietly, and Matthew immediately followed his command, probably just thankful not to have angered him.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, now that it was just the two of you. Morpheus calmly closed the door behind him, and you watched that calmness break as he strode over to you quickly, leaning down and kissing you hard.

You gasped at his sudden change in demeanor, and at the fervor with which he was kissing you. “Ah, Morpheus-”

He leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closing for a moment. “They really didn’t get to you?”

“No-no I feel fine,” and you gasped once again when the King of the Dreaming pulled you into his lap as he sat down. His arms wrapped around you tightly and as you shifted to put your head on his shoulder, you felt his arousal against the underside of your thigh. You froze, unsure if what had affected you the last time Desire came to visit had been given to your King.

“Did they-”

“They didn’t drug me,” he spoke softly, anticipating the question. He seemed very sure of this by the way he was looking at you, but you had to ask again.

“Are you sure? You’re- you seem worked up,” your voice trailed into a whisper as he set his hands on your hips and started grinding your ass against his hard length.

“I’m sure, but I need to be inside of you, my dear,” he murmured against your lips. He was riding up the skirt of your dress, eventually finding your underwear and ripping them clean off of you. He could have gotten rid of it with ease, but Morpheus always tended to enjoy ripping the clothes off of you more. It sent flutters through your stomach and heat directly to your core.

“Get up for a moment, love.” You obeyed immediately.

He pulled his hard cock from the confines of his pants, opting to leave his clothes, as well as your dress, on. Morpheus sat back down on the loveseat and leaned back slightly before reaching for your hips again, pulling you gently to straddle his lap. You were already wet from the way he had grinded you against him, so as he aligned himself with your entrance, he was able to slide in with ease, pulling you down so he could sink into you further. You let out a whimper as you were stretched open on his cock, filling you completely. It was still overwhelming, your eyes rolled back, no matter how many times he’d been inside of you it overwhelmed you. You were convinced it was just Morpheus himself, because truly, nothing else felt like him. Nothing else compared to how much the King of Dreams showed you he wanted you and showed you that you were, in fact, his.

As you tried to move your hips a little, his hands harshly gripped your hips, lifting you up before pulling you back down onto him.

“Ah!” you gasped, your legs struggling to match the pace he was setting you at. Riding him was something you rarely did unless the sex was on the gentler side, which was once again unusual for the two of you. But when you did ride him, he was still in charge of you, and you loved to have him remind you of that.

His hands roamed across your still-clothed body, ghosting over your breasts and squeezing your waist, until his hand was cupping your jaw, making you look him in the eyes.

“Look at me, little one,” he spoke softly and evenly, as if he wasn’t currently all the way inside if you.

“Please, please touch me,” you begged, longing to feel his hands on your bare skin. The teasing was overwhelming, and you wanted nothing more than his touch. Even though he could have removed both of your clothing in a mere instant, he had left it all on.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he ordered. When you only whimpered in response, he pulled you flush to him, slowly grinding you on his cock and hitting spots deep inside of you. “Tell me who you belong to,” he said once again with a sharper tone.

“You! ‘M yours!” You stuttered as he was at just the right angle inside of you. He seemed satisfied with your answer as he brought up a hand behind your head and grabbed your hair, gently pulling your head back and exposing your neck fully to him.

“That’s right, you’re mine. No one else can have you,” he growled and sucked marks into your neck. You clawed desperately at his shoulders, the pleasure in your core rising with every movement from him.

“Take me,” you panted, desperate to have Morpheus fuck you the way only he could. “Please!”

“Cum for me first. I wanna see you come apart, my love,” he murmured into your ear, voice as sweet and dark as sin. He moved one hand to your waist, and the other pulled up your skirts to rub tight circles over your clit. You moved your hips against him, arms around his neck as you began riding him once more. “Good girl, keep going, fuck, I can feel how you’re tightening around my cock. No one else makes you this desperate, do they?”

“N-no, never, just you,” you whimpered, growing closer with each passing moment. His voice and his words kept pushing you nearer to the edge, you felt yourself getting warmer and your legs were shaking.

“Cum, cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, and it broke you. You felt the pressure in your core tighten and burst, sending waves of pleasure through your whole body, cunt spasming around his cock as you cried his name. Your legs became useless nearly the instant your orgasm hit, but Morpheus continued to thrust up into you, letting you ride it out and extending the pleasure further until you collapsed against his chest. “That’s it, good girl,” he praised, running a hand through your hair for a moment before fulfilling his promise to you.

He pulled you off of his cock and had you hips up and face-down into the couch cushion in seconds, causing you to cry out loudly at the overstimulation when he swiftly re-entered you in a single thrust. Your inner walls were sensitive, and as he began fucking into you at a brutal pace, you could barely form a single coherent thought. It was at least twenty full seconds until you realized that the room had gotten colder because Morpheus removed both of your clothing. You could do nothing but take what he was giving you, and as he continued to hit the spot inside of you that made you see stars, you felt yourself getting closer again.

His hands gripped your hips so deeply you knew there’d be marks to admire later, and as you glanced over your shoulder, you could see the intensity in his eyes. His lips curled when your eyes caught on his, and he leaned over you to grab you by your neck and pull you up so you were kneeling with your back flush against his chest, changing the angle. Your head was on his shoulder, and your cries mixed with the lewd sound of skin against skin.

“Who’s making you feel so good, hmm?”

“Y-you!”

“Say my name, little one.”

“Mor-Morpheus!” you cried as his hand found your clit once more, pushing you closer and closer.

“Yes, that’s right,” he groaned, movements becoming more erratic as he neared his end, too. “I’ve marked you all up, but I still have to claim your insides, my love. Have to fill you so much it starts dripping out of you- that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled, he knew those words would send you over the edge. The knowledge he was going to cum inside of you just to re-claim you as his had the cord inside of you snapping and your orgasm hit you like a wave, each of Morpheus’s thrusts sending you further into a state of bliss as you cried out, unable to even hold yourself up as you felt his cock twitch from the way your walls were squeezing him. “Cum in me, please, breed me, Morpheus,” you babbled out as your orgasm continued to wash over you.

“Good girl, asking so nicely for it, that’s my girl,” he moaned as his movements slowed. He was fully holding you against him as he reached his peak with a deep groan, pressing as far into you as he could and his cock releasing so much that you could feel it hitting deep inside of you and beginning to drip down his cock and out of your soaking entrance. He kissed your neck as you both came down from your highs.

You shuttered at the feeling of him dripping from you, and he carefully slipped out of you before gently setting you on your side on the couch. Your body was still twitching with aftershocks as he moved to push the cum that was leaking out of you back inside with his fingers, causing you to sigh with contentment.

“After all this time, you’re still obsessed with my cum, hm?” Morpheus hummed in amusement.

You giggled despite your exhausted state, swatting his hand away from your entrance. “Can’t help it. I know it isn’t gonna get me pregnant, it’s just the whole nymph and fertility thing…”

He smiled tenderly at you, placing a soft kiss to your lips before shifting to lay behind you, arms wrapping around your naked form on the plush couch. “I know. Besides, it drives me crazy hearing you beg.”

You hummed in response, his chest pressing against your back making you feel drowsy and safe.

“Are you really okay? What did Desire want, anyway?”

“I’m perfectly alright, it’s just that they are always looking to stir up trouble. I can’t believe Desire thinks they could come anywhere near you after last time. I was worried what I would do to them if they got to you again. But I did hear something interesting…” He pulled you even closer, speaking in that suave voice of his directly into your ear. “It seems that someone doesn’t want to be the Lady of the Dreaming.” His voice was low, and while he didn’t seem angry, you could not tell what he was feeling. “What do you have to say to that, little one?”

“I-” You began to speak, but you felt yourself blushing furiously when the words got stuck in your throat. “I- I didn’t want to take the title just because we’re together,” You confessed. “I know you’ve had other lovers in the past and those relationships didn’t turn out well, I don’t want to take a title that is not rightfully mine… It feels wrong to establish myself so firmly in this realm when we have only been together a short time.”

You craned your head to the side to look at him, and his eyes twinkled slightly in amusement, which confused you, as you were on the brink of tears. He lovingly brought a hand to cradle your cheek as he spoke to you.

“Little one, this is not the first time you’ve told me of your doubts, but I am surprised at this. You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“If people living beyond this castle have been calling you “my lady,” that is because it is your rightful title. Your rightful place. Destiny made certain of that, long ago.”

“But what does that mean?”

“It means that this realm and its inhabitants are not capable of recognizing someone as their Lady unless it was truly meant to be. While I had always hated Destiny’s interference in my realm, I see now that he has given me the greatest gift.” You were in disbelief, and you rolled over to face him on your side, looking for any signs of him joking. But Morpheus would never make a joke like this… No, he must be completely serious.

“What if- what if one day you no longer want me?”

“That day will never come, darling. Trust me, I’ve lived long enough to know. Even if I did not feel this way, Destiny is unchangeable. Even if you correct the townspeople and the visitors, they will still refer to you as the Lady of the Dreaming because it is ingrained into the fabric of this world. When you rejected it… well, that’s why Desire paid us a visit. They seemed to be worried that I wasn’t holding onto you quite tightly enough… I had to give them a very very firm reminder that you’re mine.” His hands wrapped around you tightly when he spoke, and you smiled, tucking your head into his neck. “I made a decision, quite some time before we met, that if I were ever to love again, it must be reserved for the right person. The way I felt for you, long before Desire interfered, it was indescribable. I waited so long to tell you because I was terrified knowing that if I had you, I would never be able to let you go. Desire could apparently feed off of that knowledge, off the desire I held for you, and got annoyed by it. That’s why they interfered.”

Morpheus had never told you any of this before, and while you had never doubted his love for you, his admission pushed away all other doubts you had about the two of you. And about your place in the dreaming.

“I do feel like I belong here,” you whispered. “I just didn’t want to overstep.”

“The Dreaming is your home now, love. Will you take the position of Lady?”

You pulled your head back to look in his eyes, and a soft smile was on his lips.

“Morpheus… was that a proposal?” He shrugged.

“I suppose it was half of one.”

“Half a proposal?” you stifled a laugh.

“I would not propose to you in this state,” he chuckled. “No, not a real proposal. Though, it did kind of sound like one, didn’t it?”

“If I am the Lady of this realm, doesn’t that make me… your wife?”

His face broke into a grin at your question. “One day, yes. It doesn’t have to be now. Might as well have you get used to being called “Lady,” first,” he teased.

You smiled at him as you spoke. “Okay.”

“Yes?” you nodded in affirmation. “Would my Lady be so kind as to kiss me, then?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was teasing you, but you still obliged him, leaning your head up to meet his lips in a loving kiss.

As the Lord of the Dreaming stroked your hair and held you close as you drifted off to sleep, you felt completely sure that you were where you belonged.

#morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman #morpehus #morpheus of the endless #dream #dream of the endless #dream x you #morpheus x you #smut #fluff #rorabbit

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avelera · 1 year

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Archetypes are fine and originality isn't as important as you think

I think one of the most shocking things I learned in my writing class when we brought in a professional agent to lecture was that they really, really don't want your original story idea.

Agents and publishers want to know where to put your book on the shelf. They want to know which recent books it resembles, not super-hits like Game of Thrones. When they ask "What two books is this book like?" they want recent, practical examples of which non-Bestselling authors' work your work most resembles. Nothing turns them off faster than "This is totally original" / "This is like nothing you've ever seen."

Similarly, most audiences don't want totally original. I don't mean that pejoratively. We joke in the fanfic world that everyone just wants to read their favorite ship falling in love over and over but... that is actually true. That is an engaged audience. That said, fatigue does set in when all the fics or books begin to sound exactly the same, so what's the deal there, huh?

The deal is: agents, publishers, and audiences want the familiar thing they know they love with your unique spin on it that only you as a writer can create.

Now, my theory on how to achieve this, as a pre-pro who thinks about this a lot but doesn't claim to have a solution, is that this is what, "Write what you know," really refers to. Not that garbage your high school English teacher told you that you shouldn't set a story in a fantasy world because you've never lived there.

No, what "write what you know" means in fanfic is: take these characters and filter them through your personal experience and/or your interests. Which are also things you know. That can mean "I put them in a Coffeeshop AU because I've actually worked in a coffee shop and I want to show y'all what it's really like there" to "I'm personally interested in explorations of grief so I want to do hurt/comfort for these two around grief," or any other number of variations. It's why a weird concept written passionately is 10x more interesting than trying to chase what's "popular" in fandom, people want to see the uniqueness brought by the simple fact that you are writing it. You can give 10 authors the same prompt and they'll end up with 10 wildly different fics, I guarantee you, that's why no one gets tired of the same tropes being played over and over.

Now, for original fiction, at which I have less practice but which I think about a lot because I want to change that, I think again people get too hung up on being totally original and in this case I want to talk about a tendency to design an "original character" by focusing all the little details of their character before they start writing. The thing is, a lot of those little details don't matter. (It's better to start with an archetype and layer on those details, but we'll get to that.) There's danger in that, in part because your character needs to have an arc where they change between the beginning and the end, more than we need to know details like their favorite foods. Their favorite food should be whatever is most thematically relevant in the moment.

IE, when writing a story about losing a parent, whatever the parent made for them is their favorite food. When writing about someone who needs to reconnect with their inner child, greasy Pizza Hut pizza might be their favorite food because it's about something that gives the character pleasure that doesn't play to adult expectations on them. See? Knowing they like Pop Tarts jus because they like Pop Tarts is utterly meaningless, unless for example, you the author loves Pop Tarts and you know you can write a stirring monologue about how amazing Pop Tarts are that will make the audience feel your characters adoration of Pop Tarts. But you can substitute literally any food and write the same monologue, it has to either have emotional resonance or plot relevance, otherwise it doesn't matter what the food is.

But going back to characters, I think just starting with an archetype, adding a few details from your own life that you know you can write authentically, and then kicking this character through the mousetrap maze of your plot, really goes a lot further in making them unique than any amount of pre-planning of details that get you bogged down. And most popular characters reduce down to Archetype + Story-Relevant Details pretty damn quickly when you look at them.

Here's an example:

Last of Us = is a Lone Wolf and Cub archetype, ie, grizzled man takes a dependent child on a dangerous journey. That it's a post-apocalyptic landscape riddled by zombies tweaks the necessities of what skills the characters like Joel and Ellie need to survive. Add some author relevant details - he's from Texas but he lives in Boston now, he had a daughter who died (relevant to the plot, which is him adopting a "new" daughter), and he is former military and a blue-collar worker who therefore has the skills to survive in this setting, and you've got a pretty solid character that people grasp and people love right away, especially the more humanizing moments you throw in there, like the moment we see him break down when his daughter dies.

It should also be remembered: passion is what is needed here. You don't pick a trope you hate unless you're setting out to subvert it. You pick details that you care about and that you want to write about. Everything needs to be things you authentically care about writing and innovating on because you're gonna spend a lot of time with this story, more than anyone else. But the idea that one needs to start whole cloth, rather than focusing on the tropes, stories, archetypes, and personal experience that you care about, is utter nonsense and in fact does not actually sell.

#maggie rambles #writing #writing advice

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 years

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between the stacks ~ johnny depp

word count: 2376

request?: yes!

@jaysmentalspace “Hi there (˘⌣˘ ) I've never done a request before but I was inquiring as to whether you could possibly write one for me. One about Mr Johnny Depp. Where he comes to a small town, possibly looking for old poetry books and he happens to run into the reader, whom works there and he takes a fancy to her...or something along those lines. It would be greatly appreciated ♡♡♡”

description: in a small town where nothing ever happens, a celebrity wanders into her bookstore

pairing: johnny depp x female!reader

warnings: nothing!

masterlist (one, two)

A little bookstore in a quiet town rarely saw any sort of business or anything exciting. Not that the owner, a young woman who had the bookstore passed down for generations, minded too much. All the down time meant she could read to her heart’s desire, which was usually her entire shift.

When the bell of the door rang, she glanced up from the current book she was reading to greet the new customer, only to double take when she realized who had just walked into the store.

“Hello,” said the familiar stranger.

“Hello,” she responded. “Is there, uh, is there anything I can help you with?”

“I was just looking for some poetry books,” he responded.

“I can show you where they are,” (Y/N) said, coming from behind the counter. “I will warn you, you’ll be disappointed with the selection. It is very, very small.”

He followed her towards the back of the store where their single shelf of poetry books was mixed in with the numerous biography and non-fiction books.

“It’s very little,” he agreed. “But I definitely think I can find something new here. Thank you Ms...”

“Oh, just call me (Y/N).”

“Thank you, (Y/N). My name is Johnny.”

~~~~~~

(Y/N) tried to remain calm as she returned to her book, but her mind kept drifting to the man who was just a few feet away, thumbing through the poetry books. She didn’t want to disturb him while he was just trying to have some time alone, but she knew no one would believe her if she told them he had been there. She wanted to try and sneak a picture of him or something, but at the same time she didn’t want to invade on his privacy.

Johnny was around for a little more than an hour, which shocked (Y/N). There weren’t that many poetry books for him to look through, and she was desperately hoping he wasn’t just reading them while he was there and not buying them. As much as she was starstruck by the presence of an actual celebrity in her bookstore, she was also a business woman and she couldn’t afford to let people just sit around and read and not buy anything.

She had finally gotten sucked back into her book when a voice asked, “Interesting read?”

(Y/N) jumped and looked up to see Johnny stood in front of the counter, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Sorry,” she said, bookmarking and closing the book.

“Don’t be sorry for reading,” Johnny said. “Seems you have plenty of down time to get through some books.”

“Oh definitely. I think I’ve read nearly every book in here. We get new shipments every other week so I never run out of material, luckily.”

“I’m surprised to see it so empty.”

(Y/N) let out a dry chuckle. “You shouldn’t be. Not a lot of people are rushing to bookstores these days. For one, the usual complaints about digital books being the preferred reading method. I understand the desire to have all the books one could ever want on a device that you can carry around in your purse, but I prefer the physical copies. There’s not much better than that new book smell.”

Johnny nodded along with her rant in silence. (Y/N) barley noticed that she was rambling on. She rarely had anyone to talk to inside the bookstore.

“Also, small town bookstore is as cliched as you would think,” she continued. “Not much business. People aren’t rushing here when they’re bored like they will to the theatre or go for a drive. I don’t see many people here in the run of a day.”

“How do you stay in business?”

“My family owns the place. Mom and dad have money put away if need be, and we make enough to get by at the very least.” She paused, her gaze drifting to the books Johnny was holding. “I’m rambling and you’re trying to go.”

Johnny chuckled. “No, trust me you are more than alright. I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Your bodyguards won’t get too worried if you’re gone for too long?”

She avoided his gaze as she began scanning in his books. She wasn’t sure if that was something she should’ve said, but she couldn’t take it back now.

“Ah, so you do know who I am,” Johnny finally said.

When (Y/N) looked up, she couldn’t see any bad emotions on his face. He still had a hint of a smile.

“Of course I do. I don’t live under a rock,” she said in a light tone. “I’m flattered that you’d choose my little bookstore to come shop in.”

“I like to buy new poetry books whenever I’m supposed to be filming for a long time,” he explained. “Your shop drew my attention. It looked very homey, and now knowing that this is a family owned establishment I understand why it has that feeling.”

(Y/N) smiled and started to bag his books. She didn’t want him to leave just yet. Not just because she was starstruck by the celebrity in her store, but also because he just seemed very down to Earth and nice to talk to. She didn’t want this to end and to be left alone just yet.

Unfortunately, Johnny was taking his debit card from his wallet, meaning their interaction was coming to an end.

When it was paid for, she reluctantly passed him his bag and smiled. “Thank you for stopping by.”

“Thank you for your help.”

She watched him go, pausing at the door to smile and wave at her before disappearing into her small town, likely to never see her again. Once he was gone, (Y/N) let out a sigh and leaned against the counter. It had been such a short conversation, but now with his voice gone the store sounded a lot quieter, and the next few hours of her shift on her own seemed incredibly daunting.

She tried to get back into reading her book, but the silence was deafening. Eventually, she closed her book again and went to the back office to get the Bluetooth speaker that was there in order to play some music while she waited out the rest of the day.

~~~~~~

The next day, (Y/N) was receiving the weekly stock shipment when the door bell chimed to signal someone coming in. She looked over the delivery man’s shoulder to tell the new customer she’d be with them in a second, but stopped as she recognized the familiar face from the day before.

Johnny smiled at her and nodded towards the nearby stacks, mouthing, “Whenever you’re ready” before disappearing between them.

“Everything alright, (Y/N)?” the delivery man asked, looking over his shoulder just in time as Johnny hid between the stacks.

“Uh, yeah,” she said. “Sorry, someone came in then went back out I guess. Here, let me help you put the shipment out back.”

She didn’t want to seem like she was trying to rush the interaction, especially since this was the most socialization either of them got in the run of a day, but (Y/N) really wanted to go speak with Johnny again. She had spend the entire night thinking about their interaction from the day before. She kept thinking about messaging someone, anyone, and telling them that she had met and sold books to Johnny Depp himself, but she knew no one would believe her. That, and she didn’t want to give away Johnny’s privacy. There hadn’t been any announcements of a movie being filmed in their small town, so she figured no one knew that he was there besides her.

When the final box was placed in the back room, (Y/N) made some friendly small talk with the delivery man before he left to continue his route to other stores. The minute he was out the door and in his truck, away from the windows and unable to see inside, she quickly rushed to where Johnny had gone.

She found him leaning against one of the stacks, a book in his hand and his eyes slowly scanning the pages.

“Welcome back,” she said to him. “Did you read all your poetry books that quickly?”

He closed the book in his hand and smiled at her. “I did not, however I am now considering buying this book as well. You took so long that I nearly got halfway through it.”

“Listen, that’s what you get for coming on stock day. You’re lucky I managed to get Hank out of here as quickly as I did. He usually sticks around for hours just talking until he gets in trouble or I have a customer come in.”

Johnny made a thoughtful face. “Seems he likes your company.”

“I like his, too. Most of the other store owners don’t talk to him the way I do, and I don’t normally get a lot of people who come in and stick around for a long time. We tend to be each other’s company once a week.”

Silence fell between them besides the soft sounds of music playing from the Bluetooth speaker set up on the front counter.

“You’ve added music here,” Johnny observed.

“Yeah. I found it was too quiet yesterday so I dug out that old speaker. I didn’t think it would even work. It’s just been hidden away in my desk in the office for at least a year.”

“It’s nice. It really sets the tone of the atmosphere.”

“The homey atmosphere?”

Johnny chuckled and nodded. “Exactly.”

More silence. A slow song was playing. (Y/N) found her mind wandering, imagining Johnny asking her to slow dance between the stacks of her empty bookstore. The two of them hiding away in this one section, sharing secret stories and stolen moments where no one else could see them.

She imagined him leaning in close to her, their lips just nearly touching, the feeling of his warm breath on her face...

She quickly shook her head to get rid of these thoughts. Where had they come from? There was no way she could be feeling those things yet. She had only personally met Johnny the day before. They had only had one short conversation the day before. It lasted a total of maybe ten minutes, and then he left. There was absolutely no way she was feeling anything for this man.

Right?

“So, what brings you back here if it isn’t for more poetry books?” she finally asked.

“Well, this may seem forward, but I wanted to ask if you would like to go get coffee with me while I’m filming in town.”

The question took (Y/N) by surprise. When she didn’t respond, Johnny continued.

“I enjoyed our conversation yesterday, even if it was short. You seem very nice, and you didn’t treat me any differently despite knowing who I am. I can’t explain it, but I just sense something very...good from you, if that makes any sense. I figure, if you wanted to go out sometime, you would know the best places in town to go. Somewhere a little more private and intimate than I’m used to. If this is overstepping any boundaries, though, please tell me. I know we barely know each other, so I have no idea if you’re already seeing someone or not.” He paused and let out a laugh. “Sorry, now I’m the one rambling.”

“It’s nice to be on the receiving end of it,” (Y/N) joked. “But, to answer both of your questions: no I am not seeing anyone, and yes I would very much like to get coffee with you.”

The smile on Johnny’s face could be equated to a kid on Christmas morning. (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Okay, that’s...that’s great. When would work best for you?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment before responding, “On Sunday’s we usually don’t open the store till a little later in the day. We could go out that morning, if that works for you.”

“That sounds great. Here - ” He took his phone from his pocket and passed it to her. “ - you can put your number in my phone and I’ll send you a message so you have mine, then you can send me the details when you’re finished working today.”

(Y/N) added her name and number to his phone before passing it back to him. She wanted to make a joke about him being very brave to give a random woman he just met his phone number, but she didn’t want to ruin things between them before they even got started.

Once she gave him back his phone, they heard the door to the store open again.

“The one day people are actually coming,” (Y/N) muttered to herself.

“That’s alright. I probably shouldn’t take you away from your job for too long. I’ll talk to you later.”

(Y/N) almost hoped he would kiss her cheek or something, and tried not to be too disappointed when he didn’t. Be realistic, (Y/N), you just met him. This isn’t a rom-com.

She went to talk to the new customers as Johnny slipped through the door without being noticed. Once the customers had gotten what they were looking for and left, she quickly checked her phone to see if she had any new messages.

Hello, it’s Johnny. I’m hoping this is the right number. I realized I didn’t buy that book I was reading while I waited for you. Is there any way you could hold that for me until I can come again? I was very invested in what I was reading.

(Y/N) giggled to herself and went to find the book in question. She sent a message back to Johnny saying, This is the right number. I have the book behind the counter. Just know I have a strict 24 hour hold policy, so you’ll have to come get it by this time tomorrow.

Moments later, another message came in.

Well, I’ll have to come by first thing when you open tomorrow morning then.

(Y/N)’s heart fluttered as the speaker began to play a slow ballad.

#johnny depp #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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111-prxtty · 10 days

Note

Can u do another Phoebe x reader? Fluff preferably and have a confession at the end cuz they’re cute lol :)

Phoebe Spengler x reader ~ the bookshop

Here it is!! I hope it's okay, I tried my best with the ending so hopefully it's a good one! Thank you so much for this request it was so fun writing it xxx

★

Right at the beginning of summer, when school finished, you got a job at a cute little bookshop and you loved it. You got to spend all day surrounded by books and people who loved books as much as you.

Shelving books was relaxing and you luckily didn't have any trouble with the register or the people.

It was your dream job and you couldn't imagine doing anything else with your summer.

After a couple weeks you made a new friend at the shop. It wasn't someone else who worked there, it was actually a customer. When she first started coming in almost every day you thought nothing of it. Maybe she just liked to read. A lot. One day you had plucked up the courage to start a conversation with her. You mentioned how often you had seen her, joked with her, exchanged names but not numbers at first, stranger danger and all that. You were slightly disappointed that next day when she didn't come in, but she did the day after that apologising and saying she got caught up at work. You talked about her job, she was a Ghostbuster which fascinated you, and you definitely googled her when you got off work that night.

The next week you swapped numbers and spoke on the phone for hours, it was so easy to talk to her and you loved it.

You became great friends quickly and finally got to meet up when you weren't working. She suggested an ice cream place she had recently been called to about a ghost, saying "they do a lot of different flavours and definitely don't have any ghosts," which made you laugh and you could almost hear her grin over the phone.

You were now in her room for the first time, she was giving you a tour of the firehouse and all of their equipment and you weren't quite ready to go when she had finished so she asked if you knew how to play chess, you didn't and she offered to teach you. You were walking around her bed, looking at her shelves, when you spotted the books she had bought from your bookshop. Then you looked at another shelf and saw a few more books, they were obviously favoured over the others dotted around the room and all non fiction books. Whereas the books from your store were fiction and didn't seem like something Phoebe would enjoy reading now that you're thinking about it.

"Hey Phoebe," you called over your shoulder,

"Yeah" she replied, not really paying attention, focusing more on setting up her chess board.

"What kind of books do you read?"

"Mostly non fiction books, why?" She was looking up at you now and you turned to face her.

"You bought quite a few books from the store I work at"

"Yes I did, I paid for them all with you" she had a cute puzzled look on her face.

"Do you remember which books you got?" It was a harmless question on the surface really. She opened her mouth to answer your question but stopped, deep in thought.

"Don't worry you don't actually need to answer that," you were walking back around her bed to sit on the other side of her chess board.

"Then why did you ask?" She still looked confused.

"Because I've just seen them all on your shelf and I haven't seen you read a romance book, or even talk about one ever."

A blush was creeping up her neck, "I-I was wanting to try something new, you know, branching out" you didn't buy her excuse for a second.

"Why did you really buy all those books Phoebe?"

"I guess I thought it would be rude to go in so often and not get anything" her faze was focused on the board in front of her and her voice was low.

"We do have a non fiction section"

"But it's right in the back, you can see everything from the romance section" you had already begun to realise by now, but you wanted to hear her say it.

"What was it you wanted to see?" She looked up and met your eyes, and knew she had been busted, so she decided to just go for it.

"I walk past that store almost everyday - it's right in the middle of everything, the perfect spot really - and one day I noticed someone new, a pretty (y/h/c) that I knew I just had to meet. So I started going in there occasionally to look at the books and try to interact with you in someway. I always chickened out but then you started a conversation and it was worth buying all those terrible books for it, because now we're, friends, at least for now if this doesn't creep you out which I would definitely understand if it did."

She finished and her gaze went back to the chess board but you reached over to lift her chin,

"I noticed you too" you whispered, unsure of what to do next. Her face lit up and she stood with you and engulfed you in a hug, resting her head on your shoulder, she whispered in your ear, "do you want to go on a date with me?"

"Yes, of course" you grinned hard, "and I can exchange all those books for you, not because I'm agreeing they're terrible but because you should have books you'll actually read." You laughed together and she did eventually teach you how to play chess.

★

#cute #ghostbusters #books & libraries #ghostbusters frozen empire #i heart phoebe spengler #phoebe spengler x reader #fluffy #cutie pie #request #reqs open

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ninja-muse · 9 months

Text

As you can maybe tell by the three reviews I posted in July, it was a good reading month! Overall, at least. I still had a couple “this was fine” and one DNF, but there were a lot of hits and I read more books than I have the last few months.

So, highlights: The Hollow Places was fantastic, as was Bookshops and Bonedust but for very different reasons. If you’re worried that Baldree won’t be able to repeat the magic of Legends and Lattes, stop now. It was pure cozy delight. March’s End didn’t get a review simply because I already had three coming, but it was also very good. It examines family dynamics and the realities of a portal fantasy world in a very complex, adult way. The characters are believable if not necessarily likeable, the world-building is great, the writing is strong… all the things.

But between March’s End, The Hexologists, and The Hollow Places, I needed a lot of lighter books to balance, as you can probably tell by the rest of my list. I enjoyed pretty much everything! I’m just sorry I didn’t like the Sanderson more but I guess that’s a sign he isn’t an author for me since I didn’t like the last book of his I read either. I’m also a bit sorry I couldn’t get into The Atlas Six because so many people love it, but I dropped it in a Little Free Library and it got snapped up almost instantly so hopefully it’s found a better home.

So that was my unhaul of the month! I … did not do well with my book haul, or perhaps I did too well with it. The Odyssey and Thud were both damaged books that came in at work and I couldn’t say no. Thud has some wear to the cover; the Odyssey has some uncut and weirdly bound pages I’ll need to slice open. (Have I read and do I own other editions of both? Absolutely.) Love in the Time of Serial Killers was an unexpected rebound—I originally got it as a reading copy and passed it on to a coworker, who sent it back when she’d finished.

And then, well. There’s a new bookshop opening in my metro area. They’ve taken over from a used bookstore and have to sell off its stock before they can properly move in their own. I had to go help out, right? I couldn’t find anything in their SFF section I wanted but still left with three books: Gaudy Night, Evelina, and a collection of Molière. I went with friends, the same day we saw Barbie. ’Twas a very good day, all around.

And last but not least, I have started on one of those long, dense reads that will last ages. I’ve had Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century on my shelf for years and made it a goal to finally start it this year, since it’s totally up my alley but also huge and academic. There was a point in July where I didn’t want epic stories, light stories, or narrative non-fiction, so I figured that was as good a time to start it as any. I’ll probably read a section or two a month, whenever a similar mood hits.

And now without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

The Hollow Places - T. Kingfisher

Kara moves into her uncle’s museum of weird after her divorce, only to discover another universe behind a wall.

9/10

🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (gay), disabled secondary character

warning: body horror

Bookshops and Bonedust - Travis Baldree

Viv is recuperating from an injury in a sleepy town, where she finds a struggling bookshop, new friends, and a mystery. Out in November.

9/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (sapphic), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (sapphic)

March’s End - Daniel Polansky

The Harrows have been tasked for generations with protecting a fantastical other world, but now the family is fracturing and that could endanger everything.

8/10

major 🏳️‍🌈 character (lesbian), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (sapphic), African-American secondary character

warning: toxic family dynamics, commentary on colonialism

Imogen, Obviously - Becky Albertalli

Imogen puts the A in Ally and that’s fine. Then she visits her best friend in college and meets a girl….

8/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (bisexual), main character with anxiety, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (nonbinary, pan, lesbian, bisexual), Jewish secondary character, Brazilian-American secondary characters, secondary character with ADHD, Japanese secondary character, Black secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 author, #ownvoices

warning: biphobia, discourse

The Hexologists - Josiah Bancroft

The Wilbys get more than they bargained for when they’re hired to find a lost royal heir and stop the king from baking himself into a cake. Out in September.

7.5/10

possibly biracial main character

The Bookbinder - Pip Williams

When World War I pushes Peggy out of her routine, she’s forced to choose: a life binding the books of the Oxford Press or a life studying them?

8/10

major autistic secondary character, disabled secondary character

warning: war, injuries

The Nobleman’s Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel - KJ Charles

Rufus is the new Earl of Oxney, saddled with a crumbling estate and a bitter family. Desperate for a good secretary, he hires Luke—who has a hidden agenda which doesn’t involve tupping the boss. And yet. Out in September.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 main characters (demisexual-gay, gay), main character with dyslexia, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (gay), minor Black British character

warning: toxic family dynamics, abuse

Weird Rules to Follow - Kim Spencer

Mia starts to notice that she and her best friend are living very different lives, with very different expectations from the adults around them.

7/10

Ts’msyen protagonist, Mexican-Canadian secondary characters, Ts’msyen secondary characters, Gitxsan secondary character, Ts’msyen author, #ownvoices, 🇨🇦

warning: racism, alcohol abuse

A Man and His Cat, Vol. 3 - Umi Sakurai with Taylor Engel (translator)

Kanda begins to deal with his emotional baggage, with the help of his cat and a fellow teacher.

7/10

Japanese cast, Japanese author, #ownvoices

Bookshop Cinderella - Laura Lee Guhrke

Evie is quite content as a spinster with a bookshop. Duke Maximilian has wagered he can make her the diamond of the season. This is a strictly platonic alliance, of course.

6/10

The Frugal Wizard’s Handbook for Surviving Medieval England - Brandon Sanderson

An amnesiac man wakes up in a country that may or may not be Anglo-Saxon England with an exploded guidebook. Good thing he has ~*~Mystical~*~ ~*~Powers~*~™.

6.5/10

Persian secondary character, Chinese-American secondary character

Picture Books

The Skull - Jon Klassen

Otilla finds a large house in the woods inhabited by a talking skull, so she helps him in return for shelter.

🇨🇦

DNF

The Atlas Six - Olivie Blake

Six ambitious magicians compete for a coveted place at the Library of Alexandria.

🏳️‍🌈 main characters (multisexual); Black-British, Cuban, Japanese, and Persian main characters; Filipino-American author

Currently reading:

Kill Show - Daniel Sweren-Becker

A teen goes missing after running back to her school bus for a bag. Forget podcasts: time for the reality show! Out in October.

warning: missing child, murder

The Wager - David Grann

A secret mission in the Age of Sail. A shipwreck and a mutiny. The perils of the sea—and your fellow man.

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

Stats

Monthly total: 11+1 Yearly total: 75/140 Queer books: 4 Authors of colour: 2 Books by women: 7 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 1 Off the TBR shelves: 1 Books hauled: 6 ARCs acquired: 4 ARCs unhauled: 6 DNFs: 1

January February March April May June

#books #booklr #book reviews #book recommendations #rec lists #reading wrap-ups #read in 2023 #my photos

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

The Rebound 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, body insecurity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Curtis Everett

Summary: after a divorce, you try to start over.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A giggle crawls through you and nips at your ears. You can’t help your paranoia as every whisper prickles across your skin. Are they talking about you? Laughing?

Things were going pretty good. Your new regime of walking is going on day eight and you’ve cut back on your snacking. You're a bit sore from trying to jog along the path but that morning felt okay. Until you ventured down to the grocery store on your lunch.

Ugh. You should’ve just walked away. You shouldn’t have kept listening to the conversation. To that girls churlish laughter. And you surely shouldn’t have gone to peek at her. You could pretend she isn’t so much younger.

Her name is Greta. She spoke loudly about the sheriff, almost as if she knew you could hear. Maybe she did.

It’s over. Let it go. You keep telling yourself that. It’s not that you want Lee back.. You’d rather be alone than unwanted. It’s just that you were right. You were being traded in for a younger model.

Well, so much for starting over. You’re going to cry into a tub of ice cream tonight and catch up on reruns. You don’t have the energy to go out for your walk. You just want to lay face down and forget the world, or at least, Hammer Ford.

You wiggle a pen in the air and look around the library. It’s not very busy. It never is. This place is lifeless. Like everything else, it’s dull and empty.

“Um, excuse me,” a voice startles you from your self-pity. You make yourself smile as you face the man. It’s him, Curtis. “Return.”

He holds up the book he took out last week and sets it on the counter. You look at the cover and pick it up. You key it in as returned in the system.

“Thanks, you’re a fast reader,” you comment as you put it in the returns pile.

“Mm, sure,” he utters.

You turn back to him and stare awkwardly, unsure what to say. He hasn’t been unfriendly but he’s less than outgoing. You’re not sure what to say. He’s so stoic and stony, it makes you nervous.

“How was your—”

“Do you–”

He stops himself as you speak at the same time. You chuckle and wring your hands, “you go.”

“Yeah, uh,” his grey-blue eyes cling to you, “I was wondering if you had any suggestions.”

“Um, oh, yeah, of course, if that’s what you typically like to read, I can definitely make a few recommendations,” you breathe through your anxiety. You think he’s younger than you, maybe not by much but you definitely show your age a lot more obviously. “Have you tried any Dean Koontz? Odd Thomas is fascinating.”

“That ones my favourite,” he says.

“Heh, yeah, that was kind of obvious,” you sniff, “well, you can try Patrick Logan if you haven’t checked him out.”

“Logan,” he nods and looks around, “you think you could show me?”

“Right, yeah,” you step around and push through the door of the counter, “it should be with the usual stacks…”

You take him towards the fiction section at the rear and find the right shelf, “looks like we only have a few here… oh but the first one’s available.”

You slide out the book and offer it to him. He considers it and takes it, reading the back. His eyes flit up and startle you.

“Thanks, sounds good.”

“Great, well, er, I’ll let you look around. You know where I’ll be.”

“I’m good. I’ll take this one,” he affirms.

You nod and sidle past him. He follows you back to the counter and takes out his library card. You go through the usual routine as he stands silently across from you. You hand him his card back with the book.

“Hope you like it.”

He looks at it and tilts his head, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night.”

He turns and stalks away. He doesn’t lift his head as he stares down at the book in his hands. He passes through the library doors, a young teen dodging out of his way as he enters. You give a thoughtful hum. He’s a bit odd but who isn’t around here.

You go to the returns and start your closing duties. You zone out as you put the books on the cart, keeping them in order by which call number you’ll pass by first. A sharp woop makes you jump and look up as coloured lights flash outside the library.

Your moment of peace dissipates. The scene at the grocery store replays in your head. The laughter echoes in your ears. The silhouette striding up to the doors makes your heart drop. No, why?

Lee Bodecker enters, his thumb hooked in his belt. The sheriff. Your ex husband. You cringe as he approaches the counter.

“Evening, ma’am,” he drawls as he stops across from you, “you haven’t seen a kid in a hoodie, have ya?”

You swallow as you stare at him. He’s going to stand here and act like nothing happened. Like he doesn’t know you. You shake your head, “no, sir.”

His cheek dimples. A strike of anger zips up your spine. He used to stand just like that when you did something wrong. No, not wrong, just not the way he wanted it. And even then, you called him sir. He always had that smug smirk on his face.

“Mm, well, you see some twerp in a blue sweater and you give me a call. You still got my number, don’t ya?” He winks.

“Haven’t seen him,” you repeat, even as you recall the young kid who shied away from Curtis. The teenager couldn’t haven’t done anything that serious. “Good night, sheriff.”

“Night, honey,” he snickers.

You turn your back to him before he can see you crack. He’s mocking you. He struts around proudly, waving his dick around, gloating in the whispers. And you’re left to wallow in dejection. After all, he’s a man of the law, he’s untouchable. You’re the bitch who couldn’t do your damn duty.

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #drabble #the rebound #au #backwoods au #snowpiercer #series

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ratty-corduroy · 2 months

Text

Here is my embarrassingly late reading wrap up from January :)

My thoughts on each + a bit on how February is going under the break

I have all of the Patrick Melrose novels on my kindle so I reread Never Mind and Bad News and no surprise that Bad News is still one of my favorite books of all time (and you may think that this is a sign I need to go to therapy,,,, and you would be right)

And like usual I read some more Kurt Vonnegut, Breakfast of Champions was my forth novel of his (ten more to go I think😭) I liked it better than Cat's Cradle but not as much as Bluebeard and Slaughterhouse-5 but the more I reminisce on it the more it's growing on me I think lmao

And then Man Without a County is a collection of essays and speeches and things of the like he wrote in his last few years and of course I loved it you literally can't go wrong with Kurt imo.

I didn't like My Year of Rest and Relaxation as much as I expected too from all of the recommendations I got for it but it was still enjoyable, just a funny quick read ya know

And Empty Theatre!! I picked this one up on a whim from the bookstore completely blind and it absolutely kicked ass super unique approach to a historical fiction I've never read anything like it and its definitely going on the favorites shelf <3333

Near the end of January I started reading The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt and I've been so busy with school and other stuff that it's all I've been able to read this month so far 😭 I'm absolutely loving it but it's such a monster of a novel and I already read pretty slow as it is that it's anyone's game whether I'll finish it in February or not lol, I also had some non-fiction lined up for Black History Month that I haven't been able to crack into yet so I'll probably just read them in March or April l (I mean it's not like you can only read about black history if its Black History Month🤨) anyways that's about it I hope you read some good books this month ily

#study blog #bookish #bookblr #reading #reading wrap up #booklr #bookworm #books #studyblr #english lit student #english major #🐊

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ponponpopcorn · 3 months

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Ok this is something i cooked up based on the head cha la doujin where marron is a fujoshi

Krillin goes to Banes and Noodles one day (the toriyama universe B&N) for some good ol' browsing. 18 is off on a fishing trip with 17 #sibling bonding time and Marron is off at school studying hard like the good kid she is but also if she gets good grades she can make doujins freely without worry. He's got some time to himself so he's going around exploring the city and getting some fresh non kame house air. He sees the book store and decides to go in, thinking, "Man I should probably start reading some more!" He's thinking of getting a self help book or perhaps a popular fictional novel. He strolls around and spots the manga section, like "sweet! I used to read manga all the time, I wonder what's popular now..." he's flipping through some volumes, some My Hero, One Punch Man, he's mostly checking out the shounen and comedy stuff because that's what gets him hyped. It's a little nostalgic. Then he moves over to the next shelf and he sees two big letters: BL. His eyes squint a little in confusion and he's muttering to himself "BL... BL what could that stand for BL....." and has an AHA! moment. It's Boys Love! It's that thing Marron loves so much! Oh man what a score, he can get a present for his lovely daughter to surprise her! Scanning around looking at the various covers of boys embracing and looking embarrassed, he stops in his tracks. He sees one manga that is truly baffling, even in the BL section. That's right. It's.......

Dick Fight Island.

"Is, Is this the kind of stuff Marron is reading?!?!?" Krillin exclaims in his mind. He doesn't look at her BL shelf for her privacy, but he can't help but get both concerned and morbidly curious. He checks around, no one's near. Perfect. He slowly cracks open the first volume... and after a few minutes he decides he's tortured himself long enough. (I havent read dick fight island im not gonna describe what happens.) He thinks, surely she doesn't read such, such, SUCH SUCH HEINOUS THINGS!!!

Krillin then comes to the realization that he did all this for nothing because he realizes he could have just googled for recommendations. He types Top BL manga 2024 and at number one is Head Cha La. It's just a small gift anyways, if she doesn't like it or already has it he can return it... He makes his purchase of $30.78 (tax is 10% in Satan City and he got an interesting book about the psychology of martial arts) and heads home.

Out of concern for his daughter's BL consumption, he checks her shelf to see what kind of stuff she has been reading. He decides he'll confess to it later because of how guilty he feels, but it will serve both of them well because it'll be used as reference for future presents. Whew, nothing risque in there, all very cute stuff, he feels even more guilty for doubting the purity of his child........ but Marron already has that volume of Head Cha La.

(bows and the curtains close)

#ponpost #dragon ball gt #krillin #marron

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redinkscrawl · 3 months

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Redd Reviews: THE WORLD KEEPS ENDING, AND THE WORLD GOES ON by Franny Choi

Genre: Poetry

Major Tropes: Dystopia, utopia

Representation: Written by a queer Korean-American and discusses Korean-American issues, though the book is not explicitly queer (to my knowledge.) Little to no disability rep.

My Thoughts

Franny Choi’s The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On is a book about many things; apocalypse, dystopia, history, future, COVID, race, trauma, life… but it is also very much a book about endings, beginnings, and continuances. Choi’s lyrical play and word choice often leans into this theme, with poems like “We Used Our Words We Used What Words We Had” and “I Have Bad News and Bad News, Which Do You Want First” blending the beginnings and endings of lines and stanzas. The world has ended, after all, but it has also continued right along.

One time the world ended was in 2020. Choi’s poems are all tinted by a post-COVID perspective for me, and possibly for the author as well. It’s impossible for me to know if lines like “...stitched by girls who look like me but for their N95s…” refers to masks worn for COVID-related or other reasons (poor workplace conditions?), but my perspective on these lines post-COVID is certainly tinged. Given that the author does outright reference COVID in other poems, I find it hard to believe that these lines weren’t at least left ambiguous on purpose.

My second favorite poem in the collection was “Field Trip to the Museum of Human History.” Choi says this poem was inspired by Ursula K. Le Guin, and I clocked this immediately. What’s fascinating for me is that I checked The Winds’ Twelve Quarters, the only non-children’s book by Le Guin I’ve read (though I have others on my to-be-read shelf!) and I don’t believe I’ve read The Dispossessed, the story Choi says the poem was inspired by, nor any significant passages from it. Le Guin’s influence over the poem is just that strong. And now I have another book to add to my TBR shelf!

Related, I really enjoyed the scifi aspect of the book overall. I’m a big fan of exploratory, speculative fiction and have sought in the past a way to write a scifi or fantasy poem without it being a hundred pages. Obviously, Choi achieves this goal in “Science Fiction Poem” and “Field Trip to the Museum of Human History,” but even more than that she achieves this goal in “The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On,” if in a more watered-down form.

My favorite poem in the collection was “We Used Our Words We Used What Words We Had.” I’ve always been slightly fascinated by nonsense poetry and literature, but most nonsense doesn’t make my spine tingle like this poem does. Instead of being silly and charming, this poem cuts deep at something… but I don’t know what. Sense is abandoned for lyricism; phrases are structured for rhyme, consonance and assonance, rather than for meaning. It’s a beautiful poem, and I don’t get it. But I think that’s the point. This poem certainly inspires me to play more with my words, regardless of hard meaning and in favor of effect. The piece is a playful celebration of sound, and I wonder if this has anything to do with her background in spoken-word poetry.

This collection of poems is somewhat haunting for me. I’m frequently a doom-thinker, almost obsessed with intrusive visions of my own death and the death of the ones I love. In my dreams I fair better, as brilliant revolutionary leader or crafty apocalypse survivor, but still the doom is there—why is the revolution necessary? What caused the apocalypse? This is not to say I believe this collection is possessed by an untoward sense of doom—I think any sense of doom the collection has is warranted and realistic. But it’s inconvenient. It forced me to face things I try not to face, for fear my sense of doom would grow greater. The moral of the story here is that there is no remedy, or at least no easy or permanent one. Even if we prevent one apocalypse, another will follow, almost certainly. That said, “Protest Poem” does give us some hope for changing the future… A sense of ‘something will always be wrong but at least it can be less wrong or for less time.’ Additionally, The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On is greatly interested in knowing others.

In this way, Choi’s book reads like a manifesto of sorts, or perhaps half a manifesto. Most manifestos expose the wrong in the world and give a list or at least a sense of the policies, ideals, aims, etc. that would correct that wrong. Choi does a lot of the former, and much less of the latter. I struggle to see a call to arms in this book, despite the aforementioned “Protest Poem.” She establishes empire as the root of evil in some poems, but fails to present a solution to empire. I think this is intentional, and partially because I don’t think the speaker believes in any true, hard endings. Of anything, not just empire. Is this depressing? Possibly. But love doesn’t end either, nor compassion, nor progress. In this way, I believe The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On does carry some sort of hope, should you choose to read it that way.

The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On is filled with poignant lines and exploratory poems with few misses, but a few pieces lost my attention at times.

Rating: 🌎🌎🌎🌎/5

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#poetry #franny choi #bookblr #poetry book #poetry book review #book review #butredd #korean american poetry #hope this one isn't too weird; it's modified from a response paper lol #dystopia #utopia

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innitmarvellous · 5 months

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I would love to hear about you going on a tangent about British politics and stuff. I find stuff like that so fascinating especially as an American so please do tell and any book/media recommendations would be cool Tysm

Whoa, thank you so much and I even feel honoured! :D I'm always happy for an opportunity to bang on about politics. And I'm sorry, but this will be a pretty long post, haha.

Well, I was sort of into politics ever since my school days (oh, the good old days when I had to explain the German electoral system for my exams haha) and I guess I might have studied something politics-related at university if I had the qualifications...but sadly I don't, so it's just something like a hobby for me. Anyway, at first I mostly just followed German politics, but then I got really into British politics in 2016 after the Brexit vote. I started watching the parliamentary debates on Brexit when they showed them on German TV for whatever reason, then later online and idk, that got me hooked. I have been following current events to varying degrees ever since (mostly via the Guardian and the BBC News because I'm sort of a leftie...lol) and I would say it has definitely become one of my main interests. I think nowadays I'm probably better informed about the events in the UK than about the political landscape in my own country (bit sad, but true). Still, I'm definitely no expert and I've got a bad memory, so I find new and interesting bits and books all the time, haha.

Anyway, book recommendations! This will be by far the longest part of this post…of course this is only just about the stuff I've read, so not exactly comprehensive and probably biased because of my personal political preferences, but…hopefully still a bit useful. :) (Sorry for the Goodreads links, but since I use that site to keep track of my reading it was just the easiest solution. Here's also a link to my non-fiction shelf for more stuff…I didn't mention every single book I've read or else this post would be even longer haha)

For a more general overview I would recommend this series of books: UK Politics Annual Update. They are actually for A-level exam preparations, but I found them pretty useful (especially for earlier years when I didn't follow politics yet) and bought almost all of the older editions. Or alternatively, this book was alright if you want want less detail, but still a quite comprehensive overview. Although I didn't really like how the author's personal opinion got obvious from some bits. For a more light-hearted approach, British Politics for Dummies is also pretty good. I've read a few of this series and it's one of the better books.

Getting a bit more specific now…two pretty good books which are mostly about what happens in Westminster and what could be improved about the way British politics work are How Westminster Works...and Why It Doesn't and Code of Conduct. Especially the first one is really good, and it has lots of interesting stuff in the 'further reading' section for the more hardcore nerds. Yeah, I'm currently going through that list, haha.

Also pretty good, but also quite specific are Chums and Butler to the World. The first one is about how modern politics is mostly shaped by people who went to Oxford (and it was quite depressing sometimes, but very interesting), and the second is about how Britain occasionally helps rich people hide their money to pay less taxes and all that. Another good one is The War Against the BBC, but as it's mostly about, well...the BBC it's only politics-adjacent…still worth reading especially since the Tories these days are attacking the BBC all the time and try to undermine it.

As for Brexit, I'm still looking for a really good book about that…but the best one I've read so far is A Short History of Brexit. It's pretty complicated and technical though, and goes into detail about how the UK joined the EU in the first place, so I wouldn't 100% recommend it.

Three quite different, but interesting books written by British politicians are Go Big, Seven Ways to Change the World (ideas about how to improve British or even world politics from two former Labour leaders) and Unspeakable (despite the title it's not just an autobiography but also explains quite a bit about the work of the Speaker of the House of Commons).

Also, no matter whether you're a rather left-wing person or whatever you think about Jeremy Corbyn, this book was really interesting. Of course it's written from a sympathetic viewpoint, but it was generally really interesting to see the phenomenon of Corbynism in the context of the history of the Labour Party. Same goes for this book, although it's also written from a left-wing perspective.

Also surprisingly good and insightful was this short essay about politics by Frankie Boyle. Yes, the comedian.

Oh, and last but not least: I also genuinely think that watching HIGNFY is pretty useful when it comes to getting an overview about current British events. (Well, "current" depends on whether you're watching an old series or the latest episodes, of course. But it's just as good for older stuff, I think. Some things like, idk, scandals usually don't get mentioned in the books, at least not the ones I've read.) Same goes for the Private Eye annuals, although I assume these are more fun if you do have at least some knowledge of what happened in the corresponding year already.

#ask #uk politics #reading #if anyone wants to add something to this post please feel free to do so...i'm always happy about recommendations too!#no matter if it's books or articles or podcasts...really whatever kind of media

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