style writing

Mute

This is quite short - apologies
Word Count - 1201 words

Warning: Light smut at the end.


You listened as your daughter got continually more riled up with Harry’s muteness, wanting nothing more than to talk to her Daddy. He had strict orders to rest his voice, something very unwelcome with how busy your day is.

You were stood in the kitchen while the two of them sat at the dining table, keeping you company. You attempted to stir the pot of noodles cooking on the stove one handed while also keeping your newborn latched to feed.

“Daddy! Stop it.” Luna raised her hand as if she was going to hit him but the look of seriousness that he gave her stopped the four-year-old, deciding to sit back down and pout. You could feel sweat running down your neck with the heat of the pan clogging the air and you were finding it hard to find clean air.

You paced over to the window, opening it wide and leaning out as much as you could without squishing the 3-week-old baby, Noah, in your arms. The fresh air was a relief to your system and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to find Harry, a concerned look on his face, his eyes asking if you were okay. The little girl following behind him caught you eye and her tear streaked cheeks hurt your heart. There was no point explaining for a third-time Harrys situation, you had given up a while ago.

“Fine, babe.” That was until the smoke alarm sounded, the smoke arising from the burning pot of noodles setting it off. “No, no. Fuck.”

You rushed over and tried to stir the clump but it proved impossible, the noodles sticking to the pan with no budge. You threw the pan off the hot plate on to the bench, the sound alarming the sleeping baby, sending him into a fit of cries.

Meanwhile Harry watched in a shock, Luna at his side tugging on his hand. He could see you were slowly falling apart and he couldn’t so much as give you comforting words. Doctors order an all.

“Mummy said a bad word.” You heard Luna whisper it to Harry, obviously seeing the state you’re in and not wanting to push you any further. You rarely swore in front of the kids and felt shitty you had let one slip.

“Luna, get out of the kitchen please. Go play with your toys.” You were bouncing Noah, trying to lull him back to sleep while letting out anything but soothing ‘shh’s’. They came out harsh and angry; a clear representation of your mood.

“Can you turn that thing off, Harry? Don’t just stand there for crying out loud.” You were still bouncing Noah in a way you were sure wasn’t too relaxing but you were too stressed to care. Since you had ruined dinner, you were ransacking the cupboard looking for something easy and fast.

The smoke alarm had silenced, telling you Harry had done what you asked. Now the siren had stopped and it was much easier to think, you felt terrible about the way you had snapped at Harry and Luna.

Finding a box of macaroni and cheese, you decided that would have to do for tonight’s dinner. You turned to see Harry leaning against the island counter, eyebrows furrowed and watching you with careful eyes. You sighed, knowing what the look on his face meant.

“What?” You threw the box on the counter and rested your hand on your hip. Luna was gone, no doubt she had put up a fight when Harry led her out the kitchen. Noah had quietened with small whimpers sounding every few seconds.

Harry shrugged and put his hands up in surrender. He walked to stand in front of you and brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. Your head was cradled in his large hand and he pulled you forward for a kiss. Then he took Noah out of your arms, you let out a sigh of relief from the pain your arm was in for holding him to long.

He took a step back and mouthed three words. ‘I love you.’ With that he signaled he would check on Luna and exited the kitchen. You breathed in some air, thankful for the minute alone. However, the guilt of your abrupt snap weighs on your chest. For now, you would have to forget about it and make dinner.


You stood in the doorway of your ensuite later that night, brushing your teeth, as you watched Harry move about the space of the bedroom getting ready for bed. Dinner was quiet. You had to get up numerous times to see to Noah and didn’t get a chance to eat your food before it went cold.

Harry insisted on getting Noah and Luna to sleep but both kids were reliant on a story or soft whispers to lull them to sleep. Harry could do neither.

Now that both kids were sleeping soundly and the only sounds heard were the scuffling of Harry’s feet on the carpet and the bristles of your toothbrush on your teeth, you could feel some of the stress from the day lifting off your shoulders.

He looked up at you after some time, feeling your gaze on him. With a smile, he raised his eyebrows as if to ask you if you needed anything. You giggled around your toothbrush at his expression, foam from the toothpaste dribbling out of your mouth.

He shook his head and silently chuckled at you, pointing in the direction of the sink, prompting you to finish getting ready for bed. When you emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, the only light came from the lamp on Harry’s side of the bed.

He sat against the headboard, a book in his hands, reading glasses perched on his nose. You stood and stared again, enjoying the view way too much. Even after two kids, passion was not lacking in your relationship.

“You look very, very nice this evening, Styles.” You made your way to the bottom of the bed and crawled your way up to his legs. He lowered his book, looking down at you with a smirk and a sparkle in his eyes.

“I think apologies are in order.” You rose on your knees and sat back on your heels, settling between his legs, your hands on his thighs, inches away from his crotch. “I was incredibly rude earlier.”

He looked at you with wonder and lust. He nodded his head slightly, encouraging you to trace a finger up his thigh and circle it around his cock, feeling it hardening under your touch. You gave him an innocent look, but his eyes were closed, veins producing from his neck as he fought to stay quiet.

Your hand stopped its stroking and you worked on getting his underwear past his hips, his erection free from the confinements.

“I think you’ve been quiet for long enough, baby.” And with that, you took him into your mouth, feeling the length of him fill your mouth. It started off with whimpers, however when he came, he couldn’t stop the yell tearing through his throat.

In-Between Pink Sheets

This was going to be a blurb but I got way too excited and now, I’m thinking about a part two. Anyways, I’d just like to say that I’ve been seeing a lot of fics on thigh riding these past couple of days and I don’t want anyone to think I’m copying or stealing ideas. This was requested nearly a week ago and there’s got to be a million and two thigh riding pieces so just DON’T. Okay, hope you enjoy. 

“Ya know, caesar salads really get me going, too.” He chuckled as he stepped tauntingly towards her.

She rolled her eyes, “Fuck you.”

“I bet tha’s what ya want,”


Y/N wasn’t sure if she was more embarrassed with the fact that she had soaked through her panties and was now biting back pitiful mewls as she rutted against the chair or the fact that she’d gotten terribly horny at her family dinner table with her her cocky, shit-eating grin bearing, boyfriend watching in amusement with that stupid twinkle in his eye. 

She figured, if she kept her attention on the conversation the rest of the table was having, she could forget about the current mess she’d made of herself, but, it seemed the longer she deprived herself of what she so desperately needed, the stronger that urge to sneak off to the bathroom with Harry in tow became. How she’d gotten into this predicament was beyond her, but now she was in a hole she couldn’t climb out of.

And Harry was definitely not helping.

He sat across the table from her, toying with his bottom lip to disguise the arrogant smile he’d been sporting since he realized the reason behind her red cheeks and dilated eyes. Every so often, he’d bump her foot with his before sending a knowing glance. At one point, he’d even gone as far as to slowly lick the sauce from his fingers while keeping his eyes locked on hers, hollowing his cheeks as he slid them out until reaching his fingertips and releasing them with a pop. And once he saw her clenching her fists and fidgeting in her seat, he’d ask, “Y/N, you feeling alright?”

And each time the only reply he received was a tight-lipped, “Yes.” And a rather harsh glare.

Her mind was clouded by selfish desires and the longer the dinner ran, the more and more she considered acting upon those irrational thoughts – maybe no one would assume anything if she discreetly grinded against her chair – and now she was sure the evidence of her arousal would be clear for all to see. Curse her for wearing a dress.

Keep reading

Break Series.✨💔

Y/N and Harry fight all the time. A break could do them some good, right?

Give me a break.

https://harrybutterflies.tumblr.com/post/159764221136/give-me-a-break



Without you.

https://harrybutterflies.tumblr.com/post/159863476776/without-you

anonymous asked:

18 + jikook

Send me a pairing + a number: “Fuck. Off.”



canon compliant | well :)


“Fuck. Off.” Jimin ponctuates, attempting to get Jungkook away from him by pushing his shoulders back – with more strength than initially intended, maybe. “Get off.”


“Why?” Jungkook presses harder, though, not a single sign on his annoyingly beautiful face of pulling away. He has one knee in between Jimin’s thighs and a pair of elbows pressed against the wall behind them, in a very successful way of preventing the older from escaping, “Give me one good reason.” His tone has been increasingly dropping since he started pinning Jimin against the red brick wall of their building’s terrace, to the point it was now just a soft murmur blown in the cold air of the night – and inside Jimin’s hot mouth.


They are so close to each other it sends a sudden awareness of nostalgia up Jungkook’s lips – a kind of longing he hadn’t witnessed himself feeling since… Well, never. Their chests warmness and oxygen are all mixing; Jungkook’s nose is touching Jimin’s and he can breath in Jimin’s scent so well it’s fucking driving him insane. Jungkook wants to kiss him so bad it’s physically absurd – and so it is how long he had resisted before finally ending up here, staring down at Jimin’s lips with a need it clenchs his stomach and burns his chest.


He still remembers the first time he kissed them, in the practice room, three months ago, for accuracy. Not that he had counted or anything stupid like that. But he remembers. How they felt so soft, and warm and right against his own. Well, at least for the first five seconds, before the dizzy spur of their tired – and mildly sexually induced by the song they were previously dancing to – minds hit them like a violent wave in the shore, crashing upon them and making them drown. He remembers how Jimin began to kiss him breathless, and how he kissed back until they were both lightheaded and panting. Jungkook’s hands gripping Jimin’s ass and pressing him down where he so painfully needed, Jimin’s own hands roughly tangled on Jungkook’s hair, pulling hard and making the younger moan.


“I swear to god, if you don’t back off, I’m going to fucking deck you in the face.” Jimin threats and Jungkook leans down, so they’re eye-level and Jimin doesn’t have to look up to talk to him. This, however, only seems to riles Jimin up more, his hands crumpling the fabric of Jungkook’s tshirt and consequently pulling it up slightly, exposing some inches of his lower belly to the cool air.


“Why is that?” Jungkook repeats, pressing their chests harder. They didn’t have sex, back in that night, thanks to Jimin’s phone going off when they were about to lose their pants. If Jungkook was relieved or frustrated, he couldn’t differ. It’s not like he didn’t want it to happen, he just didn’t want it to be… In a stuffy room, with both of them too tired and too horny to be thinking straight about decisions they were surely regretting the other day. Although, from that day forward Jimin had been blatantly avoiding him, acting like nothing happened and shoving the subject away whenever Jungkook tried bringing it up. Now, three months later, Jungkook seriously can’t take it anymore. “Because I’m finally having the guts to properly talk to you about this? I’m tired of playing games, hyung. If you hated it so much just straightforward tell me so I can apologize for kissing you, instead of pretending I don’t exist whenever we’re alone. It kinda hurts.”


Jimin’s fingers soften it’s grip on Jungkook’s tshirt and he looks down, a frown molding his features.


Jungkook wants to kiss his pout away. But he doesn’t.


“I-I didn’t… hate it…” Jimin mutters, fidgeting the cloth. “It’s just…” he lifts his eyes and meet Jungkook’s gaze for a second before diverting it again. “Aish, I don’t wanna talk about this.”


“Why not?” Jungkook asks, an ache menacing to show up on his voice.


It’s kinda unfair, he thinks. How Jimin is dealing with everything like it means nothing, when Jungkook can not not think about it for a single day. How Jimin is not shifting his gaze down to Jungkook’s lips, like Jungkook has been constantly doing for the past minute, dying to catch Jimin’s lips on his own. Or how he seems almost restless to get away from Jungkook, when all Jungkook wants to do is hold his body on his arms and not let go.


“Because…” Jimin nearly whines, frustrated. Their chests are still tightly pressed together, but it feels softer, the atmosphere having made Jungkook faintly pull away, scared of Jimin’s answer. “I don’t want to serve as a reckless experience for you to kill your curiosity only and then–“


“What?!” Jungkook chokes out, shocked. “What the fuck?! Who ever said you were–“


“No one needs to say it, okay?” Jimin snorts, looking everywhere but Jungkook’s face. “This already happened before. I’m sure of my… You know. But you’re not and I’m just sick of being used as an–“


“Shut up.” Jungkook cuts him off. He feels irritated somehow. “With what right do you go out carelessly making assumptions about me and comparing me with the assholes from your past?” Jimin is silent all of a sudden. “Goddammit, hyung! Three months! Seriously, this is absurd, why couldn’t you just talk to me when I tried to?”


Jimin is eyeing his left hand on Jungkook’s t-shirt, so the younger angles his head to be on Jimin’s field of vision and force him to stop avoiding his stare. “Look at me.” he says, and this time he is able to hear the hurt on his voice, his brows furrowed as if that would help him read Jimin’s mind.


“I…” Jimin starts, lips pursed and Jungkook’s chest aches with how much he wants to kiss it, but he somehow expects for Jimin to do it first. He doesn’t want to push himself on him, just to be rejected later. “I…” They’re holding eye contact and it makes kind of hard for Jimin to properly think with such a short distance between them. “It makes me feel awkward.” He finally lets out, gulping.


“Why?” Jungkook asks, and feels like it’s the thousand time he is repeating this question.


Jimin fists his tshirt harder, before his hands go cup the sides of Jungkook’s neck, the cold palms against his warm skin making his breath slightly hitch. “Because…” he seems to be painfully trying to form words and Jungkook’s heart is beating so fast he is sure Jimin can feel it against his chest. “It’s your fault. You make me feel awkward.”


Jungkook had unconsciously tilted his head to the side, the angle rendering difficult for him to pretend he can’t feel Jimin’s breath hitting his lips anymore.


“You make me feel awkward too.” he whispers.


Jimin is bitting his lips, and it takes him a whole second to close his eyes and tangle his hands on Jungkook’s hair after the younger’s words fall out of his mouth, pulling him closer. Their lips are brushing and Jungkook is happy Jimin is somehow holding him in place, because otherwise he’s sure his legs would be betraying him – but still none of them is moving further and Jungkook is so fucking frustrated, because what the fuck is still holding Jimin back?


(Jungkook’s pride is holding himself back, because even though he is sure Jimin’s hands fisting his hair means a lot more than just consent, he still doesn’t want to be the first to give in – considering he had been the first to do it the last time. He needs a stronger reassurance Jimin wants that as much as he does, and he is determined to get it.)


That’s what impells him to part his lips and allow the hot air from his throat to curl around Jimin’s lips, the red flesh of their mouths skimming and providing both of them a tingling feeling on the tip of their stomachs. Jimin is still motionless and Jungkook is so damn impatient, he sinks his teeth on Jimin’s bottom lip with force and no previous warning, making Jimin hiss and then moan when Jungkook pulls it forward just to let it softly slide from his teeth back to its place.


Something clicks inside Jimin’s mind and he chases Jungkook’s lips with a hunger he has no idea he possesses, their mouths finally, finally clashing with an eagerness built during months.


Jungkook’s lips fits under Jimin’s so naturally well that it’s almost surreal, as only the pressure of their mouths against each other is able to make Jungkook feel on the verge of exploding – longing washing over him and proving his imagination is such a weak representation of reality. He could never truly recreate this feeling, it didn’t matter how many scenarios he pictured.


It’s when Jimin licks his lips – almost demanding for Jungkook to let him in – that he melts, their tongues meeting in a simultaneous warmness and thirsty that needs no further actions to demonstrate how desperate for each other they actually are. Jimin wraps his arms around Jungkook’s neck, angling his head in a way there’s not an inch of air between them, standing on his tiptoes and sucking Jungkook’s lips with just the right amount of pressure to drive him crazy. He takes his elbows off the wall and envelops them around Jimin’s waist, in an impossible attempt to pull him closer, needing to completely intoxicate all his senses with Jimin and Jimin only. Not that it took a lot of effort.


“Mhm…” he hears the whine falling out of Jimin’s lips and feels the vibration on his mouth and chest. His arms tighten around the older’s waist in response and the clenching on his stomach urges him to lick in Jimin’s mouth more intensely. He does, and on the second time, they moan together, Jimin’s hands gripping Jungkook’s shoulder so hard, his nails are sinking on the skin.


They pull apart for lack of oxygen, both panting and with swollen red lips.


Jungkook kisses Jimin again for a second, not resisting to stay away for too long. He watches as a shy smile appears on Jimin’s lips, so he kisses it one more time. And then another, and another. He keeps on pecking Jimin’s lips repeatedly until he is giggling and blushing. Jungkook smiles, burying his face on the older’s neck and sucking his scent to his lungs.

Jimin’s skin smells the sweetest.


“You’re so dumb.” He lets out, voice muffled.


Jimin chuckles. “So are you.”


“Yah!” he pulls back offended to look him in the face. “I was the one trying to fix everything up, why am I dumb?!”


Jimin brings his face closer to Jungkook’s. “You should’ve caged me against a wall and kissed me breathless three months ago.”


He smiles before catching Jungkook’s lips on his again.


“Hey! You kissed me!”


“Shut up, asshole.”


anonymous asked:

four word prompt: we're not together anymore

“God dammit!” I cursed and kicked the tire of my old red car as smoke billowed out from the engine. It was done, loyal Clifford had finally bit the dust. I couldn’t afford another car right now and now I was going to miss another day of work because there was no way for me to get there now that Clifford was dead. I was sitting against the tire on the side of the road after getting off the phone with AAA, banging the back of my head on the car when a black range rover pulled up behind me. I shielded my eyes and squinted as someone got out of their car and headed over to me.
“Thought I recognized Clifford.” A familiar British accent met my ears and I almost groaned aloud. Could this day get any worse? He towered over me, casting his shadow over my body, “Told you this lump of rubbish wouldn’t last through the summer. D’you need to borrow a phone or something?”
“Already called a tow, but thanks.” I said, sounding the exact opposite of thankful.
He crouched down next to me, “I’ll wait with you then.”
“I don’t need you to wait with me.”
“Someone could come and kidnap you on this road all by yourself.”
“Better than being alone with you.” I muttered under my breath.
“I heard that.”
“Good.”
He sighed, “Look, I know you hate me, but I’m just trying to help you out, I’m not comfortable with you being out here all alone waiting for God knows how long for a tow.”
“Do you think I give a shit what you’re comfortable with? We’re not together anymore.”
He’s quiet, but when I sneak a glance at him, his jaw’s clenched in a way I remember to mean he’s pissed. “Fuck, Y/N, just because we’re not dating doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
I scoffed, “Well, that makes one of us.”
“How many times do I have to apologize—“
“You don’t, Harry! I don’t care! I don’t care about you or that stupid fucking relationship and I don’t want to talk about it!”
He’s quiet a moment, “I know you well enough to know that you do care, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be so angry.”
I hated him, hated that he knew me that well, hated myself for letting him know me that well. “Fuck off.” I muttered, but my voice cracked and my eyes filled.
“I know you don’t believe me, but I love you. I never stopped. And I know you hate me so it doesn’t matter, but I love you. I think about you every day, I can’t delete the pictures of us off my phone, and that notebook you always used to carry around with you is still in my glove compartment, but I never told you because I was afraid giving it back to you would be the last time I saw you and I’m not ready for that. I’ll never be ready for that.”
I impatiently wiped a tear off my cheek, “I’ve been looking for that notebook for ages.”
He gave a short laugh, “That’s the only thing you took from that?”
“Did you read it?”
“No… Of course not. I would never invade your privacy like that.”
I watched him for a moment, “I only believe you because if you had read it you’d know that I don’t hate you at all. And I never did.” That notebook was filled with every memory we shared together. I had a notebook for every year of my life starting from sixth grade and I would tape in little memories, movie tickets, receipts, flowers. I would write any thoughts that came to my mind, sometimes poetry, sometimes I’d draw. And I remembered how full that last notebook had been of Harry. Endless drawings of his mouth, endless receipts and ticket stubs from places we’d been, endless words that had come from his mouth being turned into poetry, a page that I had sprayed with his cologne and had simply drawn doodles of his tattoos on. That had been my favorite page. I wondered if it still smelled of him. I had always thought he was walking art and I tried so hard to put that on paper so I would always remember. I think I knew deep down, even then, that we weren’t forever.
But it didn’t stop me from hoping. And it didn’t stop my heart from breaking the day he left.
I felt his hand hesitantly slip into mine and I didn’t stop him. Instead, as his thumb traced circles on the back of my hand, I closed my eyes and leaned my head on his shoulder, swearing I heard him sigh contentedly at the contact of my body on his.
And we stayed like that until the tow truck arrived, a silent surrender.

Mistakes

Another piece of bad work which is all over the place; my apologies but what’s done is done.It’s also based on a few lyrics from ‘Dangerously’ by Charlie Puth.

The living room of the North London estate was beginning to get warm according to Harry. But maybe that’s because of his constant pacing from the TV to the sofa. Non-stop pacing from the moment he texted her, 11 o'clock that morning.

It was now 12PM, an hour after the sent text, and all he could do was ruffle his hair whilst checking the time on his phone. He knew she read the message, the two double ticks showed him that. Where was she?

She; the girl he swore he loved with every inch of him. The girl he wanted to marry but couldn’t because there was no way that he wanted to tie her down to a ‘world-renowned popstar’.Her privacy would officially be gone for the rest of her life. There was no way that she’d get it back…Not if he left her now. Left her before he’d go ahead and buy an engagement ring.

Sure, he was already with her but marrying her was something else; something permanent. He knew she was happy, hell he was happy with her but everything has a limit and this was theirs.

There where times where’d she break down completely. Sobs would leave her mouth, her body would be shaking because of everything crashing down all at once.

Despite the fact that she told him repeatedly that it wasn’t his fault and had nothing to do with the fame side of him, he still blamed it on himself. He was good at that, blaming the negative side of being famous on himself. Along the way of stardom, Harry learnt how to ignore the remarks thrown at him and instead learnt to embrace his inner self. Although he moved past the comments, he couldn’t help but feel guilty as family members and friends had been hit with similar words.

He couldn’t do anything to stop the crude comments; they’d only become worse if he tried.

..

Drunk of that love, my head up, there’s no forgetting you”

Ever since Harry left her, he spent his nights at the local bar. He was becoming one of those guys he vowed not to be. The guys that got drunk of their arses when something tragic happened or their relationship ended, very much like his current situation. Usually, a persons lover would leave them. In this case, Harry was the one that left. And every night , as he sat on the barstool in the dim light, clugging a drink down his throat before slamming the glass on the counter and asking for a refill; he regretted it all.

-

She knew.From the moment that Harry opened the door, he knew she knew because when you’re in love with a person, you tend to know how they function. He remembered everything so clearly. However, he didn’t remember the scared expression on her face because it wasn’t there. The only facial expression she wore, was a somber one.

She knew this was the end of their relationship, that this was their goodbye. Knowing it was the end didn’t exactly defy the little bit of hope she had inside her, so she smiled. She smiled as if her heart wouldn’t be broken moments later.

Harry let her walk through the hallway before leading her to the living room where just several minutes ago, he was pacing. He took a seat next to her, knees beginning to bounce nervously as he did.He bit his lip for a couple of seconds then collected himself.

This is gonna hurt.I blamed myself first cos I ignored the truth.”

I guess you know what this is about,” he spoke, eyes falling to the floor. Not for a second did he want to look into her eyes in fear of breaking down. He could break down later,now was not the time.

I’m going to start this off by saying I love you and it’s cos I love you that I -” he paused, sniffling a bit. Was this really the end? He told himself to cry later but she was physically here and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. He wasn’t ready to start a life without her.

Harry cleared his throat.

And it’s cos I love you,” he repeated, “that I have to end what we have.It’s killing me to do this, to even say this but it has to be done.I love you. God,I love you so fucking much,” he breathed. “You deserve a better relationship with someone who can love you more than I do. I know you love me and it might take some time but you’ll find the man you need,” his voice cracked.

Harry bit the inside of his cheeks, taking a pause from his speech as his hands moved through his hair.

You’re perfect, every single bit of you is perfect to me and it hurts me when you doubt yourself because of the package that comes with me. The fans continuously troll you and I don’t want that for you. I really don’t. I’d stop it all if I could except I can’t which frustrates me so fucking much. I’m supposed to be protecting you, that’s my job as your boyfriend yet I can’t do that one simple thing.”

I’m sorry,” Harry apologised, voice shaking after all he said. He finally looked up with tears in his eyes and as soon as he did, he wish he hadn’t.

She looked broken.Sure, she knew that this was the end, on the other hand, even the expected is unexpected.

Tears had spilt on her blotched cheeks;they were still falling. Harry hated it when she cried, it was horrible for him,especially as he was the reason for her sadness.

What had he done?

Harry,” she uttered out as best as she could.

I’m sorry,” he restated.

Don’t I have a say in this?” She questioned, trying to regain her breath when she stopped her crying.She, like him, could break down later.

Please,” Harry nearly yelled out desperately, shutting his eyes. He had the urge to say ‘stay’ but the opposite came out. “Go.”

As that one word syllable left his mouth,he opened his eyes, tears now clouding his vision as he wanted to go back in time and stop himself from sending the text. It hurt to break the heart of his love, but it hurt even more to watch her walk away.

He blinked. She stood up.

It took all of him to not pull her back into his chest, whilst wiping her tears away and apologising profusely.

And it took all his willpower for him to not chase after her as the front door shut.

All that willpower turned into tears when he realised that she was gone. Forever.

He tried comforting himself by declaring that ‘it had to be done’. It didn’t work.

So instead Harry sobbed his heart out.

One of his moods (S.M. smut)

A/N: Shawn, waking you up in the middle of the night by eating you out. This wasn’t requested or anything but I do take requests as well as submissions so…. if you’re interested. Also, I am extremely tired at the moment so if this is crappy and short I’m sorry :) 

  “mmm fuck” I moan. I feel hands on my thighs and a warm wet tongue on my core.

   Consciousness washes over me but I’m still too tired to open my eyes. I reach my hand down to where the pleasure was coming from and I feel a familiar head of hair between my legs. I can tell by the chirping of the birds and the lack of light shining on my lids that it can’t be past 6 am but Shawn is one for spontaneity so this isn’t a huge shocker. 

   His hand finds my own that rests at my side and locks our fingers together, he gives a little squeeze as his tongue slowly drags itself up my folds. When the tip of his tongue meets my clit, he holds it there and applies pressure before beginning to flick it lightly. I open my eyes as another moan slips past my lips. His tongue leaves my bundle of nerves and I can hear him swallow some saliva. “am I mouth watering?” I tease, my voice drowning in rasp from slumber. He chuckles and I see his shadow sit up and soon after, he’s crawling up my body. “You are, actually” I can almost hear the smirk I know he’s wearing. 

   "Taste" he whispers and his lips meet mine. The soft pink muscle that was just working wonders on my center is now doing the same in my mouth. His, lips are so slick which makes our kiss very noisy but I’m not complaining and neither his he. He nudges my head to the side and gives himself access to my neck which he begins to nibble and lick on. With my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms wrapped around his broad back, I pull him closer and now I can feel that he’s still fully clothed. He must be in one of his “this is all about you” moods. I’m definitely not arguing with that. His hand leaves the side of my face and slides down to my core. 

He rubs me until his fingers are coated and begins to massage circles on my clit. My head falls back and it feels as though every bit of air has been vacuumed out of my body. He finds my lips again but this time he uses no tongue. He gives me a nice, deep kiss. Then another. Then a third. My toes curl as I feel my stomach tightening from how close I am. My slow breathing has now turned into full on pants and my head is absolutely spinning. He hisses against my lips before gently tugging my bottom one with his teeth and letting it snap back. “ahh Shawn please don’t stop” I whimper. 

 "I won’t” he groans.

 I can tell that having me come undone underneath him is satisfying by the way he’s moaning without me physically pleasing him. My back arches as my legs start to subtly quiver. “fuck…yes baby mmm” 

 “that feels good?” He asks, face directly above mine, looking for any sign of me not enjoying this. 

  That’s one thing that annoys me about my little Shawnie. He’s never sure of himself even when I’m literally telling him how good he’s making me feel. “I’m gonna-yes oh shawn…shawn” My moans are getting louder and louder but I can’t help it. “fuck Y/N you sound so damn sexy” I hear him say but too wrapped up in this burning sensation inside me to tell him how cheesy he sounded. My nails run down his back with enough caution to not actually injure him. Just wanna leave a couple red lines. 

  His fingers move quicker now that he knows I’m almost there. He dips his hand down to collect more of my juices before continuing to rub me. Over and over and over. “oh I’m there-fuck Shawn! Ohhhh” he finally pushes me over the edge and he keeps drawing circles on my clit to ride out my orgasm. His name is the only word leaving my mouth. I come down from my high, Shawn’s hand no longer moving but still resting on my center.

    He leans down to kiss me and I feel a smile stretch across his mouth before we part. “Was that ok?” He chuckled. “Babe…” “I know. You hate when I ask but I just…I like to be sure that I’m giving you what you need” he says nervously. “You are giving me what I need, Shawnie. That was amazing…random but amazing” I laugh and he laughs too. He rolls off of me and pulls the blanket over us. 

 “What was that for anyway?” I ask as I yawn, still drunk off of sleepiness. 

 “I just couldn’t sleep. Don’t worry about it you can return the favor later on” once again, I can hear him smirking by the tone of his voice. I shake my head and cuddle into him. He loves being the little spoon. 

 I feel myself drifting off….I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

wallflowhrs  asked:

placements that would suggest someone who is really good at writing? or someone that has a very beautiful, poetic writing style? :) xx

writing is ruled by mercury and the 3rd house, publishing is ruled by jupiter and the 9th house, so anything that contacts these positions, esp their natural rulers, like mercury 3rd, jupiter 9th, mercury 9th, jupiter 3rd. gemini rules writing, grammar, speech, and punctuation. this is why so many geminis are journalists and bloggers. venus (art) in the 3rd house makes for a poet. hermann hesse had mars, saturn, and the moon in pisces in the 3rd house. neptune is the higher octave of venus and we spoke about the artistry of venus so this elevates with neptune, the ruler of pisces. “Writing is every time a mad, exciting business, a voyage in a tiny boat on a high sea, a solitary flight through the universe”. 

mercury in the 11th house is a great writer of dreams and vision belonging to and for the collective. pluto in the 3rd may be a great writer because a legacy could be left with their words. mercury in the 10th can become famous or make a living out of writing. neptune in the 3rd could turn words into liquid, so there is poetry about their writing, if they can actually be bothered with it, speaking with images, like mercury in pisces or in the 12th house, again the focus can be too off to actually generate anything. mercury in the 1st house is a natural writer, and mercury in the 5th could be a great creative writer. mercury in virgo or in the 6th house may focus more on analytics but have an ease of articulation. surprisingly, some of the best astrologers ive found have mercury in capricorn, its a mature and refined expression , its easy to read and full of wisdom, check check. i say this because i believe steven forrest has the greatest astrology writing style and he has this placement, among some others. moon-jupiter, moon-mercury, and mercury-neptune, moon-neptune, venus-mercury, moon in the 3rd, moon in the 9th, aspects can generate beautiful writing, these people are natural artists anyway 

there was another one i thought of but i keep forgetting? so maybe its wrong lol

hope that helped! x 

-C.

anonymous asked:

it's super silly to be mad at jk Rowling for writing slytherins as she did, since as a writer I understand why she did it. It kept to her theme, to kept to her strictly important-details way of writing, and things like that wouldn't have driven the story forward unless she drastically changed whatever she already had preplanned,, don't blame the writer for not doing your headcanon pls (I love slytherins but come on, don't blame rowling)

This is going to sound incredibly wild to you but here’s the thing, writing is art and every art, specially the ones that are incredibly popular, is open for interpretation, discussion and even critiques. I am not pressing a gun to her forehead or even talking to her directly, I am simply stating my opinion on something I believe she should have done differently because it feeds to a negative stigma. You say it would have gone against her usual style of writing of only including the most important details but, it would have taken little to no time to add an extra paragraph that showed Slytherins participating in the battle. “Don’t blame the writer for not doing the headcanon” oh? So some Slytherins not being complete villains and actually having morals is a headcanon now? Say that to Regulus Black. Say that to the eleven year olds that will come to Hogwarts in the years to follow, get sorted into Slytherin and booed or shunned in the process! I truly have zero interest in discussing this with you and I’ll continue to show my dislike to the way my house was treated.

PS. I’m a writer too ;)

4

I know my reaction is kind of late. I had a very busy day. I had 6 hrs of school on a Sunday then I had to do a report due today. It’s now almost 5am here but I just cannot sleep w/o posting something about these glorious photos first.

More than anything these are pieces of art. Cole is like the ultimate best “instagram boyfriend” for consistently taking more than just IG-worthy shots of Lili but almost if not certainly gallery-worthy shots.

I am both amazed and intrigued with the photos. Intrigued in the sense that I wanted to know the process behind the shots, the BTS happenings, such as the mystery of the dress. 😉

Then, I read the captions. It took me awhile to decipher the meaning behind Cole’s caption. I just know that it talked about something fleeting but the style with which he writes shows me how much of a poet he is. It showed me how much of a romantic he truly is. On the other hand , Lili’s post gave me so much warmth. I can feel the joy and love from that simple caption. In my native language, “indulging” roughly translates to “pinagbigyan” which is “to give way or to give in to someone’s request. It can be inferred then by the choice of words
that Lili really wanted this and requested this and Cole gave in 😍

anonymous asked:

hi kaz!! i adore the rival series, and your writing style so much that it led me to consider trying writing as a hobby!! do you have any tips on how to begin and if you know any, are there any websites i can go to for further advice? :D thank you so much!!!

My way of learning to write was almost exclusively through reading a lot. Reading is the best way to figure out what you like and don’t like in a story and writing style. Aside from that I’d say planning makes everything easier, thesauruses are great if you’re feeling stuck or repetitive and just keep practicing because practice is the only way you’ll get better. I don’t have any specific website recommendations but I’m sure there are lots of good ones out there :D 


Okay so I never do these ((part laziness, and part fear???)) but I wanted to thank-you to all the role-players out there that had given me a go with writing with them. It’s been roughly 4-5 months worth of a rollercoaster of awesomeness, and I cannot thank everyone enough that has followed me.

So here goes the bias list

Part of the clan

@wiilhelmina

Where do I even begin? from stalking you from afar ((lmao I promise I am not too creepy ;) )) and adoring your writing style, I finally approached you and asked if you wanted to roleplay! my heart skipped a beat when you agreed and in return you actually liked my writing also!? and now our little precious babies are the perfect dysfunctional couple I’ve ever seen, but from the bottom of my heart, I thank-you so much for giving me a shot.

@dollcursed

Words cannot express how much it means to me that you call me your friend, I love fangirling with you about our favorite horror characters. I thank you for helping me with editing my blog, because I am truly soooo not tech saavy; and in general you’ve been there for me when I’ve had a bad day and that means more to me than I can fathom.

@icconsrp

You create the most awesome icons, promos and blogs and I wanted to express my gratitude that you made my profile much more visually appealing!

@crusadc

Okay so we’ve just met, but I adore your writing style and your interpretation of the lost boys! I love that people are started to flock to that fandom and finally write as the characters :D keep up the great work!

@istigmatias

You’re really funny, I love your little memes about the lost boys and thank-you for showing me the lost boys comics and deleted scenes of Michael Emerson shirtless ;) I look forward to talking to you some more.

@tateblog

Ayyy my main fangirl of near dark, I wanted to say thank-you for listening to me whine about Severen and how to write out his biography/history, for giving me heaps of pointers and helping me math ((super dooper bad at it)) and for genuinely writing the best Tate I’ve ever seen, even though he gets on Severen’s nerves…it’s still highly amusing.

@dontxxgetxcockyxxx

You’re the sweetest person that would go out of your way to make anyone feel at home in this awesome community, you were like my first friend on here and I am so glad to have you in my  life and in my role-plays.

Severen’s  favorite victims

@lovezdarestevez4ever @frightfulls @soft-mall-drifting @thenightmarescontinue @ncglect @fridaynightbyneonlight ((you’ll remember me once you see my message lol)) @moonhowled @monstrauma @diiedloved @mircxlla @sabatixr

And plenty more I’ve probably forgotten!

anonymous asked:

I netflixed the shit out of arrow season 1-4. I really don't see how laurel and oliver were ever friends. I can see tommy and Oliver being life long friends but I don't see how laurel fit in their dynamic. I could just imagine Tommy covering for Oliver whenever he cheated. It's hard to believe laurel was anything more than just a hanger on. I didn't understand the three musketeers vibe the writers were trying to peddle with 4:19, when they were being nostalgic. What's ur take on that dynamic?

Okay, if you’re familiar with my writing you know I psychoanalyze the crap out of my characters. I was just talking with some friends of mine tonight about my ‘writing style’ and how I  get inside the heads of the characters and base their reactions to any given situation based on their actions in canon.

Like my husband always says, ‘A person can say anything but their actions don’t lie.’

In order to understand how these three characters connect you have to examine who each of the characters are starting with Tommy since he’s the bridge between the two.

Tommy has two major issues: An inferiority complex and abandonment issues. He lost his mother, his father abandoned him for two years, and then came home completely changed and treated him like a waste of space by constantly criticizing him and telling him he wished he wasn’t his son. This is canon.

Tommy latched onto Oliver and the Queen family because they were his only support system. He gratefully accepted the role of second banana to Oliver because A) he never felt good enough to ask for more and B) Oliver was his only constant and the first person to tell him that he’d always be there for him and mean it. It’s why he ran all the way to Hong Kong based on an unsent email and never lost hope he was alive. It’s also why when Oliver came back he immediately offered to back away from his relationship with Laurel (such as it was) because, in his mind, she was Ollie’s girl and he was the interloper.

Unfortunately for poor Tommy, that was true. 

Remember that in canon Tommy said he and Laurel were only booty buddies before Ollie’s resurrection. They’d only hooked up three times before then, quote: ‘Her place, my place, my place again.’

Tommy pursued Laurel because she was the last tie he had to Oliver but he knew what he felt for her wasn’t what she felt for him. He also knew that the reason Laurel hooked up with him in the first place was because he reminded her of Ollie and that she would always go back to Ollie no matter what. He even said to Oliver that even if Laurel found out he was the Hood, despite the fact that he had killed people, she’d immediately choose him every time.

Again, he was right; Laurel, all throughout her relationship with Tommy, would run to Oliver or the Hood every chance she got. The fact that she refused to have a relationship with Tommy until AFTER Oliver returned is telling as well. Laurel only got serious with Tommy to show Oliver she was over him then she stayed with him in order to make Oliver jealous. Tommy knew that but he stayed because he was convinced that eventually Laurel would see how much he loved her and how hard he was working to gain her trust and respect. That’s what really soured his relationship with Oliver, the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be everyone’s second choice.

Still, Tommy’s greatest strength has always been that he’s a good friend and highly loyal. No matter how badly both Oliver and Laurel betrayed him–and they constantly betrayed him long before the sex up against the wall thing by carrying on an emotional affair behind his back–he stood by them. He protected Oliver and helped him even when he disapproved of what he was doing and he rushed onto a burning building to save Laurel even though she made it very clear through her words and actions that she never really loved him.

She confirms that in episode 1 of season 2 when she refers to him as her ‘friend’ then makes excuses about the fact that she didn’t cheat on him, not really, even though it kind of felt like she did, then reassures herself of that by saying that Tommy ‘would’ve wanted us to be together’ even though that’s the furthest thing from the truth. 

Oliver’s biggest problem is that he’s emotionally immature and lacks the chip in his brain that recognizes that actions have consequences. Even now he sees himself as the center of the universe and everyone around him are there merely to serve a purpose within his narrative. 

I get that it’s his show but, if this were real life, then that would be a pretty shitty thing to do.

Everyone uses Oliver’s 5 years away as an excuse for his actions but he had 22 years of life BEFORE the island and now 5 years after and a lot has changed but a lot hasn’t changed as well.

Oliver was always his mama’s ‘beautiful boy’ and he said to his mother in canon that her parenting style has always to let her children do anything they want and then to step in to sweep the consequences of their actions under the rug. Moira protects her children but she likes keeping them dependent on her as well. She offered them no structure, no discipline, and she withheld affection as a punishment before swooping in to save the day and basking in her ‘heroic motherhood’. In a way Moira has this sort of Munchhausen’s by proxy where she ensures her children have no sense of consequences so she can always remain the center of their universe.

It’s why we see a grown ass 20 year old Oliver curled up in his mommy’s lap and whimpering to her about knocking some girl up. Subconsciously Oliver  knew she’d make it go away, that’s why when Samantha told him she paid her off, Oliver began to object then immediately let it go with a guilty look on his face. After all, he practically told his mother to do it so how could he be angry with her for it?

Because of this, Oliver was raised with this idea that he should hand over his autonomy to his mother and let her fix everything and that nothing has consequences for him.

Notice that he treated Laurel the same way he treated his mother right down to the way he would curl up in her lap like a little boy.

Everyone saw this gif and cooed, I didn’t because I saw it for what it was:

 Ollie and mommy

Originally posted by oneofakindxx

Oliver knows he screwed up, he knows he’s about to get into trouble, so he cuddles like a little boy looking for comfort. This would be endearing except for the fact that we see him do this same thing with Laurel right after he finds out he got Samantha pregnant and knows he has to tell her soon and then he does it again when he confesses to Moira.

Basically Oliver is stunted emotionally. He knows he loves Tommy but he has no problem with telling his best friend to get the girl then sleeping with her because he wants the girl for himself. He doesn’t even stop to consider the consequences of his actions, he doesn’t care that he hurt Tommy until after the fact. 

As for Laurel, she’s a classic type A personality with a superiority complex. 

I want to emphasize that, as much as we may dislike her, Laurel is not the bad guy. Another friend of mine shared her headcanon about Laurel one day. She asked, ‘How did a girl from a working class family grow up with the sons of billionaires?’ The answer is that her mom was a teacher and, chances are, she taught at the school Oliver and Tommy went to. Lots of private schools allow the children of the teaching staff attend for free or at a discount so Laurel was probably enrolled at the same private academy. That said, she was still the teacher’s kid and she’s going to school with people who spend more on shoes than what both her parents earn in a year combined. Not only that but she has a little sister who is an admitted fuck up and two parents who are always working or going to school at night so she’s given the responsibility of taking care of her sister. Whenever Sara screws up, she catches the blame because she’s ‘the responsible one’.

Laurel busts her ass to be accepted by the kids she goes to school with; most teenage girls would. She gets straight A’s, she’s active in all the clubs, and she’s popular, but she can never be good enough. What’s worse is that Sara seems to have everything handed to her. Sara gets great grades without trying, she screws up and her parents bail her out or yell at Laurel for not watching her better, and she makes friends easily because she has this kind of laid back personality people respond to. Sara is fearless and people love her for that while Laurel resents the hell out of her for it. When she finds out that Sara is planning on hooking up with Oliver at a party, that’s the final straw for her.

Oliver is the most popular guy at school and her sister is going to wind up dating him on top of everything else so she tells on her, gets her grounded, then marches into that party with the intentions of snagging Oliver for herself.

Again this is at least partially canon.

Sara tells Oliver that Laurel hooked up with him that night because she knew they were planning on meeting up. She wanted to ‘steal’ Oliver from Sara because she resented Sara and felt like she deserved him, like he was a trophy. She justified her actions by saying that Sara was too young for Oliver or that she had a crush on him first but, really, Laurel never wanted Oliver so much as she wanted credit for getting Oliver. 

Throughout their relationship, Laurel constantly pushed Oliver into doing what she wanted. She had a plan and she expected Oliver to eventually fall in line. She couldn’t deviate from her plan which is why, no matter how many times Oliver cheated on her, she always took him back. 

Despite the fact that her father called her a gold digger, that’s not what Laurel is; she’s more like a social climber. Laurel is a goal oriented person; she knows what she wants and she won’t stop until she gets it. She also has that same blindness to consequences and collateral damage Oliver has and cannot accept failure. When she fails or is wrong she lashes out and deflects blame onto others or rewrites history in her mind. 

She stole Oliver from Sara but she rewrites history to say that Sara was a boyfriend stealer first even though she’s the one who spread that rumor around the school in the first place (again, that’s canon).

She says Oliver is the love of her life even though she caught him with more than a dozen of her ‘friends’ even before finding out about Sara and Samantha. (canon)

She runs into CNRI for files even though she’s warned not to go inside the building leading to Tommy’s death but she blames the Hood for not getting there in time to save him. She completely disavows any responsibility in the events leading up to his death. (canon)

She also disavows any serious relationship existed between them by rewriting history and painting them as ‘friends’, not ‘lovers’, and tells Oliver that Tommy would want them to be together. She even stages a romantic scene mere days after his funeral where she’s all smiles while looking over his pictures then launches into a discussion about moving in together and getting married as if the last six years never happened. (canon times infinity)

How these three people connect is simple:

Oliver is with Laurel because she offers him structure and she reminds him of his mother. Tommy fits in because he just wants a family and he wants to have a place where he is loved by the people he loves. Laurel wants to save the world and be the hero. She wants everyone to look at her and admire her and she knows she can do so many good things if she’s Mrs. Oliver Queen. She convinces herself that she loves Oliver because she has to love Oliver otherwise it would make her look like a bad person and Laurel is a very good person. Laurel is a hero in her own mind and anything else is unacceptable.

To put it simply, these are three very damaged people locked in a toxic relationship where they enable each other and feed on one another’s worst traits. If anyone comes out smelling like a rose it’s Tommy but he isn’t perfect either. He doesn’t understand that the reason Laurel can never love him isn’t because she loves Oliver more, but because he allows her to treat him like a tool and doesn’t have enough self-respect to demand more. 

Now, what should’ve happened was Tommy should’ve gotten therapy and met Felicity and never hooked up with Laurel in the first place that way when Oliver returned he’d be married to her and she would’ve turned him into a grown up.

Laurel should’ve dumped Oliver the first time he cheated on her and demanded the respect she was due. At the very least she should’ve taken that job in San Francisco and gotten the hell away from Starling. Maybe she would’ve met someone like Ray Palmer, someone who was successful and a bit oblivious who she could shape into the person she needed him to be but who could also stand up to her when necessary.

Oliver should’ve grown the fuck up a long time ago. When he knocked Samantha up, his mother should’ve gone to Robert, they should’ve sat Oliver and Samantha down, and Oliver should’ve been made to take responsibility then and there. If Oliver had been allowed to become a father then he would’ve buckled down and his entire life would’ve changed. I doubt he and Samantha would’ve been a couple but they would be co-parents. Oliver would begin working at QC part time and gone to school at Starling U. He would’ve matured and become more independent because he wouldn’t have had a choice. If Laurel was smart, that would’ve been the final straw and she would’ve left him to pursue her own life because sisters are doing it for themselves.

There wouldn’t have been an island either because Oliver wouldn’t want to be away from his kid for three months. It takes a minimum of a month to sail to China so they would’ve flown instead. He would’ve gone to the meeting then come straight home. 

The whole thing is a tragedy when you think about it. None of these characters are completely blameless and no one is the bad guy. The only bad guy, IMHO, is the writers who decided to tell us what a strong, smart, and noble character Laurel was without allowing us to see that.  She came off much worse than they intended her to because, in the end, these were male writers who thought a strong female was the same as a bitch. They thought that ambition was the same as being a social climber, and they failed to realize that no strong woman would put up with all the shit Laurel put up with.

The way most women viewed it was that he cheated and she took him back once. That’s fine, that’s understandable. He cheats again and she drops his ass because fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice, shame on you. The fact that Laurel took him back after he cheated on her more than a dozen times then slept with him after he ran off with her sister?

Yeah, no. That’s the point where the vast majority of your female audience turns on her and asks why the fuck she’s with this guy if she isn’t after the name and the money?

I honestly doubt that Oliver would’ve ever married her if the island ever happened. He never wanted that, he was just too chicken to say it. After Tommy died, the minute she started in on that crap again and began waxing poetic about becoming Mr and Mrs Queen and saving the people of Starling City together he tuned out and split for Lian Yu because he would rather go back to hell then live in that particular section of heaven.

Hope that answers your question. :)  

Janna tells it how it is (trans Marco fanfic)

so the set up for this fanfic is that marco knows she is trans, but has not come out yet, not even to star, I’m trying out a new writing style ^^ the writing is more like that of a RP, I like it a lot better, but if you all don’t like it please let me know and I will go back to how I did the last one ^^

________________________________________________________________

*Marco is in her home all by her self, she is taking this time to her self to be a little more girly then she would be around star or her mom and dad, marco is painting her nails and is looking at what a good job she did ^^
just then Janna walks in and surprises Marco, marco then hides her hands behind her back*

Marco:  what or you doing here ?

Janna:  looking for star.. was hoping to hang out some, maybe watch a movie or something

Marco: well she is not here, her, and my mom and dad went out to get some stuff from that new shop
Janna: ohhh ok,

*Janna sees that  marco is hiding her hands*

Janna: what or you doing? why or your hands behind your back?

*marco not knowing what to do shows her that her nails or painted red*

marco: but its not what you thank….I…I….um..

Janna: oh relax Marco, I read your diary remember? I know all about your princess marco stuff, and about you wanting to be a girl full time :3

marco: O-O WTF!!! you really need to learn about personal space!!

*Marco gets red and shy not knowing what to say or do now*

marco: look Janna you can not!! tell anyone!! not even star ok? its… embarrassing….

Janna: embarrassing? you thank being a girl is embarrassing? wow! never would have thought the leader of the Rebel princesses would say that..

Marco: that’s not what I mean and you know it!!……….. I mean its embarrassing to be trans…… I mean…… I just want to be normal……

Janna: normal?? marco no one Great was ever normal!

marco: you just don’t get it…. I just what to be like ever other girl…… but I’m not…. and I know if I come out…. I will get made fun off…. even if star, mom and dad or ok whit it, what about Tom? or Jackie? or ever one at school?

Janna: look girl, your caring way too much about what others thank of you, you cant live your life for others, you only get one life, don’t waste it being unhappy…

*marco looks at her sad…… knowing she is right…. but still so scared, just then Janna and marco get a text form star saying for them to both come over to the new shop there getting pizza there*

Janna: well I’m going to go hang whet star, see you when I see you

*after Janna go’s to meat up whet star, marco is siting there feeling sad and alone…. and starts to cry….

marco: no! I’m not going to sit crying and feeling sorry for my self, its time I do something!

*marco go’s and gets a cute Green and red Dress out from the back or her closet, she puts it on, she then puts on a little make-up and styles her short hair as best she can, she then gets her dimensional scissors and go’s to meat up what star and the others to get pizza*
Marco see her mom, dad and star and janna all eating and she walk up*

marco: hey ever one ^^

*Janna looks happy to see Marco being her self, as marco sits to eat star is looking over marcos outfit*

star: so after we went out, did you have to go do some princess marco stuff in the other dimensions?^^

marco: no…..I just wanted to go out like this…… oh look star….mom and dad… I have something to tell you….I…..don’t feel like a boy….

star: don’t feel like a boy? hmm what do you mean?

marco: well I….you see….

Janna: oh for the love of Cthulhu! what she is trying to say it that she is trans! and
whats to be a girl from now on

Marco: -////- yeah… what she said..

*marcos mom and dad and star all look at each other and then back to marco and all say, ok!*

Dad: oh Youth, the time of life where life can be so frustrating and scary, I’m just happy your doing what makes you happy marco ^^

mom: oh if your going to be or daughter now, that means you will need a quinceanera?? and I will plan it for you ^^

star: yes! you so need a quinceanera^^  but! I thank ill plan it ^^

mom: oh star I’m her mother, its my job to plan it

star: well she told me I would be the party planner if she ever had a big party!

*star and marco’s mom argue over this for a long bit, but then decide to plan the party together, Marco is so happy there all calling her she, and or not upset whet her at all, she still thanking about what tom and Jackie will thank, but for now she just wants to enjoye the evening ^^

I’ve been reading a lot of books about relationships lately! I finished “Stepping Off the Relationship Escalator” and now I’m reading “What Love Is: And What it Could Be.” These books were both written recently, both have a great deal of material about non-monogamy without that being the sole focus, and also couldn’t be more different from each other in terms of format and writing style. I can recommend them both. I’d still like to sit down sometime and write a full review of each of them, which I’ll post here (if it happens). I haven’t finished reading the second book yet, but I’ve read enough of it to feel like I can endorse it at this point.

anonymous asked:

Hey! I just wanted to say that you have one of the most beautiful writing styles that I have ever come across. Whether it's dialogue or descriptions, your words just flow so naturally. There's something extremely ethereal and graceful in the way you write; the pacing, the choice of words. Just goddamn beautiful. And my favorite thing about you, is that you have these little repetitions of phrases. Sometimes I find that they can overdone, but with you... They fit perfectly in the narrative. (1/3)

“They build upon each other, and are just great. Then you also do this thing where you stretch a phrase or a sentence over several lines. Now this can be jarring and make the pacing a bit wonky, but again, with you, it’s wonderful. They make an impact, but they fit just gorgeously. And the details, the thought that goes into your works are just fantastic. And your portrayals of Jack and Gabriel. The way you write them is so memorable and the way you show the dynamics of their relationship (2/3)”

“… fuck even just thinking of them and the way you write them makes me tear up. And don’t even get me started on your meta posts. I have no idea if I’m even making any sense right now, but the bottom line is goddamn do I love your writing. You’re just so freaking awesome, I don’t know what else to say. You keep doing you, friend. Hope you have a lovely day, and thank you so much for sharing your works and thoughts with us. <3 (3/3)”

Okay anon, I took some cold meds and ate food and drank water, I’m feeling a bit more up to answering this. 

but first off

HOLY SHIT 

This is genuinely like, the most incredible thing anyone has ever said to me??  I am losing my goddamn mind because like, wow, mom, holy fuck, what did I do to deserve such an incredible compliment??  

Dude, seriously, IDK if you’re someone I talk to on a semi-regular basis or what, but if you ever wanna come off anon and just message me or talk to me, I am HERE buddy.  In a weird way, I’m kinda panicking because I’m thinking like, “Do I know this person??  Have I not told them how much I love them recently?? Because I love this person.”

Seriously, dude, if you’re okay with my casual Cali attitude, I LOVE this.  I am BEYOND THRILLED you like my stuff this much. 

Okay, so beyond the gushing - 

I dunno what it is with me and repetition.  I was telling a friend not too long ago that, prior to starting my drafts of Old Habits, I haven’t written creative fiction in seven years.  SEVEN YEARS.  And I stopped because the awful, semi-bitter grad student who ran my Intro to Creative Writing class “felt that they should grade on a strict curve, so there was only going to be one A, two A-’s, like four B’s, etc” (don’t get me started on that class, fucking KILLED creative writing for me).  

Overwatch content is the first real creative writing stuff that I’ve worked on since 2010. 

But I honestly don’t know really where the repetition thing comes from?  Maybe my sense of humor?  If you read my stuff you know I tend to go overboard with puns and jokes sometimes, haha.  But I just find something really fun in repeating things in new or different ways - usually I like to start with a phrase and then as I’m writing, my brain will continue to throw it at me in different moments.  Por ejemplo…

“Soldier: 76 is going to die, or my name isn’t Reaper,” Reaper grumbles snidely, his words laced with a dark, bitter, vivid smokiness.  Sombra gives him a weird, confused look, asking slowly, “…But…your name…isn’t Reaper.  That’s just your mercenary tag.”

(later)

I don’t fucking deserve this, he decides darkly, bitterly, with a vivid smokiness to his thoughts as Sombra wheeze-laughs beside him.

(ending)

“Looks like my job here is done,” Reaper states dramatically, flicking the tail of his overcoat behind him.

“…But you didn’t do anything,” Soldier says darkly, his words entwined with bitterness, and just a hint of that vivid smokiness that used to make Reaper weak.

I am fucking WEAK to him, Reaper thinks dryly, turning to leave.

Maybe one day I’ll actually have the strength to end him.



I have a tendency to break up sentences into dramatic little phrases to emphasize pacing or significance.  Usually, this is because this is how my internal voice is narrating the scene to me.  It has a lot to do with how my brain tells myself jokes.  Like.  Using excessive punctuation.  To really overemphasize.  The.  God.  Damn.  Point.  Or sometimes it means no punctuation at all and it turns into this semi-weird semi-rambling stream of consciousness flow that just keeps going and jfc when will it ever end will this joke ever stop itself is it even funny

Basically how I write those little dialogue pieces that I set free into the wilds of my blog is essentially how I think when writing.  My beta readers frequently get just strings of hypothetical dialogue pieces sent to them in the dead of night where I’m like, “THOUGHT OF A NEW INTERACTION, VALIDATE ME, I LOVE YOU, I NEED YOUR AFFECTION.” 

I am LEGIT ASTOUNDED that people like my stuff so much.  Like, even those little dialogue posts get hundreds of notes and I’m like.  How.  I just wrote these because they made me laugh to myself.  I just thought it would be funny to have Gabriel make a Bayonetta joke.  

I cannot fucking wait until we reach the “chat dialogue parts” of Old Habits because they are a WILD ride, my friend.  They legit make me and my betareaders laugh so much.  And if people like how I write banter and dialogue and the flow of a conversation, they’re gonna like these.  I probably shouldn’t overhype but they’re some of the funniest stuff I’ve written and that includes the dumb Duck-Goose argument (which still gets me to cry all on my own). 

Wow this got really long, anon.  Seriously, if you ever wanna engage with me on this stuff off anonymous, just hit me up.  People who have messaged me can attest to the fact that I will just drop these random “hypothetical dialogue scenarios” into any given chat whenever the moment strikes.  I did one with my friends earlier today about Jesse’s belt buckle.  It led to a conversation about Lena’s crocs.  I mean.  That’s the Dumb Stuff™ you get when you chat with me.

A PARTNER THAT’S PLEASANT TO WORK WITH AND ACTIVELY PARTICIPATES IN DISCUSSION, HAS INTERESTING IDEAS THAT CONTRIBUTE TO THE PLOT, FAITHFUL BUT ADAPTIVE CHARACTERIZATION, A WRITING STYLE THAT COMMUNICATES EXPERIENCE AND CONFIDENCE, AND REPLIES AT A COMFORTABLE FREQUENCY THAT’S NEITHER TOO FAST OR TOO SLOW.

YOU CAN PICK TWO.

anonymous asked:

May I request a scenario, drabble, headcanon or whatever about Kakashi and a baby girl or young daughter? I am obsessed with anything Kakashi related. Please and thank you!!!

So- I actually already have a ton with Kakashi and a daughter, but some of them are super sad, so. If this isn’t what you are looking for, just shoot me another request and I’ll write something new. 

** Honestly, the NICU AU is one of my favorites if you’re up for a long read; also “She’s Our Lil Fighter,” is also one of my older favorites, but it’s too cute, so I’d suggest both of those.