There's always more to people than what you can see. I have Fibromyalgia, Dermatomyositis, Lupus, and Severe Asthma. I speak English and Sarcasm but shhh, don't tell anyone.
Hey, I was wondering if you could write like a fic about the reader having never had an orgasm before, and she has like a really intense one and likes lots of praise kink. Please🥺
Hold
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You are having drinks with Elijah and you want to tell him about your little problem, in hopes that he will help you with it.
♡♡ Thanks for the request(s) anons! I love his hands and I thought these requests would be perfect together ♡♡
4.9k words - Warnings: smut, hand!kink, slight daddy!kink, finger sucking, squirting, lots of praise, Elijah being sweet...
You sat in Elijah's lounge room, surrounded by plush chairs and soft carpet, watching him pour out a couple of glasses of whiskey. You watched the way his hands worked, the way they flexed as he gripped the bottle, pouring the golden liquid into the two crystal tumblers.
Elijah had invited you over for drinks, it was technically your third date, although he probably wouldn't consider it a date, it was more of a casual hang out, but you liked to count every time you saw him.
He was so very charming, he made you blush when you least expected it. He would whisper in your ear, and compliment you, but what really turned you on was the way his hands would touch you. It was always light and subtle, just a graze of his fingertips against your thigh, or the small of your back. Your favorite thing was when he would cup your face when he kissed you. His palms were so big and warm, and his fingers would graze the hairline behind your ears.
Something about him made you feel safe, he was the kind of man who took care of things. You wondered if he could be the one who could satisfy you, to give you what you always wanted.
Elijah walked towards you with the drinks in hand, handing you the crystal tumbler filled with whiskey. The contents sparkling in the dim light, the fireplace roaring nearby.
"Thank you," you smiled, taking the drink and bringing it to your lips, letting the alcohol calm your nerves.
He unbuttoned his jacket and sat next to you, causally crossing his legs and turning to face you, his arm draped across the back of the couch.
Your cheeks were flushed as you sipped at the amber liquid. You were so nervous, you had decided to come clean and tell him what was on your mind, and you had no idea how he would react.
"I have a confession," you admitted, your eyes falling to your lap. "But I'm afraid that it might change things between us, and I really like you, I don't want anything to ruin this."
Elijah's hand went to your thigh, gently massaging your skin, sending heat straight to your core.
"I can promise you that there is nothing you could tell me that would change the way I feel about you," he reassured.
Your heart raced, your chest felt tight. You had to tell him, or else it would eat away at you until there was nothing left.
"I've never... I've never had an orgasm before." Your cheeks burned and your heart pounded in your chest, you hated being embarrassed, especially around people you liked.
"Never?" He questioned, his eyebrows raised and his lips slightly parted.
"No, I've tried on my own and with other people, and I've just... never had one." You couldn't even look him in the eye.
"Come here, sweetheart," he whispered, pulling you into his arms, your back against his chest.
He kissed the side of your head, and his hands moved to your hips. You were glad he couldn't see your face, your breath hitching when you felt him nuzzle against your neck.
"Why would you think this would change anything? I would never think less of you because of something like this."
You felt relief wash over you, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. He was a sweet man, of course he wouldn't shame you. You looked up at him, his dark eyes gazing into your own, he gave you a gentle smile and squeezed your arm.
"What if it means something is wrong with me?" You said softly, still feeling insecure, worrying that maybe you would never find a man who would be able to please you.
Elijah ran his hands down your arms, and intertwined his fingers with yours.
"Maybe you just haven't figured out what you like," he suggested, kissing the side of your head.
You blushed again, his words sparking a few dirty ideas, some you were embarrassed to admit, but perhaps a little discomfort is what you needed.
"Well, there is something I know I like," you bit your lip. “But I haven't tried…”
"And what's that?" Elijah pressed.
"Your hands," you breathed, looking at them, intertwined with your own, thinking about what they could do.
"My hands?" He smirked.
"Mhm," you nodded, bringing his hands to your lips and placing a delicate kiss on his knuckles.
"What do you like about my hands?" He asked, his breath warm against your ear, a smirk still evident in his voice.
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest, wondering if it would ever slow down. He was so hot, it was overwhelming, he was a man who was hard to resist. He was teasing you, waiting for an answer, his warm breath tickling your skin.
You felt very shy, you had never asked for sex from anyone, and the last person you'd slept with was terrible in bed. He never once satisfied you, he probably didn't even know how. Now here you were, cuddled up to a man with literal centuries of experience. The hands you were holding had done unimaginable things, his lips had tasted women from all over the world, and you were sure his cock had brought more than a few to their knees.
"I like the way they feel against my skin," you admitted, his hand was resting on your hip, and you reached for it, bringing it to the front of your shirt, and pressing it against your stomach, sliding it up to your chest. "They're so warm and strong, they make me feel safe,"
Elijah hummed, his hand kneading your breast through the fabric, and his lips pressing to the back of your neck.
"What would you like me to do with them?" He teased, his fingers flicking over your nipple, causing a wave of heat to flood between your legs.
"I want them all over me," you breathed, your hips slowly moving against him.
"You will have to be more specific than that, sweetheart," he purred.
His lips were soft, the hand that was on your breast had now slid up your chest, wrapping around your throat, pulling you closer, his lips on your ear. You closed your eyes, picturing his hands running down your body, gripping your thighs, spreading them apart, his long fingers dipping inside of you.
"Between my legs," you gasped, his hand on your throat made your mind race.
He pulled you up and on to his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He brushed your hair to the side and he began to kiss your neck. His stubble tickled, and you giggled softly, squirming in his arms.
"You're so sweet," he said against your skin.
He continued to kiss your neck, and his hands roamed your body, gently caressing your sides, your stomach, your arms. It was nice, you felt so cared for, but you wanted more, his kisses and gentle touches were turning you on, and your pussy was aching, begging for attention.
You turned your head and pressed your lips to his, his mouth opening, his tongue sliding against yours. You moaned, grinding down on his lap, feeling his hardness under you.
He smiled against your lips and his hands went to your thighs, lifting them up and draping them on the outside of his legs. He spread his knees, and your legs fell open, the cold air hitting your damp panties and making you blush.
One of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you against him, while the other rested on your inner thigh. He slowly moved his hand up, his fingers trailing higher, his fingertips brushing against the wet fabric between your legs.
"Show me how you touch yourself, guide my hand," he whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear.
You let out a soft moan, reaching between your legs and taking his wrist. You pressed his palm against the outside of your panties, grinding your hips into his hand, desperate for contact. You moaned, his hands were so big, so warm, and so much better than your own.
He hummed, and you could feel him smirking, and you could hear the pleasure in his voice, and it sent a thrill through your entire body.
"Good girl," he praised, his hand moving over your panties, gently rubbing, his thumb finding the swollen bundle of nerves hidden beneath the fabric.
You whimpered, throwing your head back, grinding harder against his palm. Your hand left his, and went to his forearms, your nails digging into his suit sleeves.
"You are so sensitive," he said against your neck, his lips pressing against your pulse. "Can I take these off?" He asked, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear.
"Yes," you moaned, lifting your hips.
He slid your panties down, leaving them halfway down your thighs.
"Put my hand back, sweetheart," he demanded, his fingers dancing on the bare skin of your leg.
You placed his hand back where it was, grinding harder against his palm, moaning softly as he rubbed slow circles against your clit.
"Mmm, look at you," he cooed, his eyes fixed on your face, your eyes closed, lips parted, hips rocking, desperately grinding against his hand. "All you needed was the right touch."
You whined, the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. You felt the muscles in your thighs tighten, and heat pool between your legs. You were so close, his hands were so much better than yours.
"Give me your hand, sweetheart," he said, removing his hand from between your legs.
"No, don't stop," you whined, grabbing his wrist, trying to put his hand back, but he refused, his fingers wrapping around your wrist.
"Let me show you something," he said, guiding your hand back between your legs, your fingers touching your clit.
You gasped, a shockwave of pleasure rushing through you.
"There you go, rub in small circles," he instructed, his lips on your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin.
Your hips bucked, and you moaned, your head spinning. His hand guided yours, guiding you to rub small, slow circles. "You're so beautiful, baby," he said, his lips pressed against your jaw. "Just like that, sweetheart, you're doing so good."
Your breathing hitched, the pressure in the pit of your stomach tightening, his hand squeezing yours, his palm on top of yours, showing you the pace and rhythm.
Your head fell back against his shoulder, his arm wrapping tighter around you, his hand going up your shirt and caressing your bare skin.
"You're such a good girl," he praised, kissing your neck. "Keep showing me."
His words sent heat straight to your core and your hand stopped moving, too distracted by the feeling of his lips. The way his other hand was running up and down your torso, his fingertips gently caressing your breast.
You felt yourself melting, you loved the way he was touching you and his lips were driving you crazy.
"It's okay, I’ll take it from here," He purred, his lips grazing your neck, his hand resuming his movements on your clit.
"What do you think about when you do this alone?" He whispered, his free hand squeezing your waist.
"I think about you touching me," you panted, his lips and his hands were too much, it was all you could focus on.
"Is that all you think about?" He asked, his hand on your clit rubbing a little faster, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.
"Your fingers... in me," you gasped, his fingers felt so good against you, he knew exactly where to touch, and he did it with such care and precision, you could hardly stand it.
"Like this?" He asked, his fingers tracing along your slit, gently pressing a single finger inside.
You looked down, watching him sink his finger into your slick heat, moaning as he began to pump in and out, his palm rubbing against your clit.
He widened his legs, spreading yours wider with them, and his pace quickened, pumping a little harder, a little faster, his other hand cupping your breast, his fingers circling and pinching your nipple.
"Why haven't you cum before beautiful? You are so responsive, so sweet," he praised, his teeth nibbling at your ear, sending a thrill through your body, straight to your core.
"I-I don't know," you panted, your chest heaving, your breath coming in short bursts. "I just overthink and I can't focus and-"
He chuckled and his finger curled, stroking that sensitive spot inside, causing your words to catch in your throat, your head falling back and your eyes rolling.
"You're not thinking now, are you?" He asked, his free hand sliding up and wrapping around your throat, applying a light pressure.
His words made you moan, he was right, you weren't thinking, he was fucking the thoughts right out of you.
"Look at you, so perfect," he purred, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "I love having you in my lap, you make such pretty sounds," he praised.
His pace quickened, his hand between your legs moving faster, his palm rubbing hard against your clit, his teeth on your neck, his breath hot against your skin.
You writhed and moaned, unable to hold yourself up, his arms were holding you steady, the muscles in your thighs tensed, your toes curling.
You felt something building inside of you, something warm, and intense. It was happening so fast, you couldn't believe it. Was this the thing everyone was talking about? It was overwhelming, your skin was tingling and every muscle in your body tightened, heat spreading through you, your heart pounding, and the pressure was getting tighter and tighter.
"It's okay, just let it happen, relax," he kissed your cheek, his lips brushing against your skin. His knees spread wider, holding your legs open, his hand wrapping around your throat.
You felt it getting stronger, the tension deep within your core. You felt like your body was being possessed by an unknown force, the power of it was indescribable. Elijah held you still, keeping you from writhing in his arms, his finger moving faster.
"Please, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, please, oh god," you begged, the warmth building inside of you, your legs shaking uncontrollably, every muscle in your body was tensed, your toes curling, your head thrown back, mouth agape.
"That's it, you are doing so good," Elijah whispered.
Your back arched and your hips lifted off of his lap, your thighs clenched together, his hand still working between them. You couldn't speak, couldn't form the words, couldn't make a sound, the feeling inside of you was so powerful. Your legs trembled and a wave of pleasure crashed through your body, starting at your core, and spreading outward, every inch of you tingling. Your vision blurred and your mind was cloudy, and a long, guttural moan fell from your lips.
"Just like that," he purred, his fingers slowing, rubbing slow circles against your clit, easing you down.
You collapsed back onto him, panting, unable to catch your breath, his hands still working between your legs, making the sensation last longer. Your muscles twitched and spasmed, and it felt like a thousand sparks were running under your skin.
Elijah gently rubbed his hand on your thigh, his lips kissing the side of your head, and the other slowly slid out from between your legs, and wrapped around your waist.
"Are you alright?" He asked, a sweet concern in his voice.
You tried to nod, but couldn't, you couldn't move, you were a trembling, quivering mess. You could feel his erection pressed against your back, and you wanted to please him, to return the favor, but you couldn't even sit up straight.
Elijah hummed softly, his hands moving to your stomach, and he wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the side of your head.
He helped you off his lap and set you down on the sofa, kneeling before you, his hands lifting your thighs and pressing them to your chest, practically folding you in half. He was eye level with your pussy, and you blushed, suddenly feeling very exposed.
You could see how wet and swollen you were, your arousal sticking to your skin, glistening in the dim light. His warm breath was fanning against you and it caused a fresh wave of heat in your core.
"So pink and pretty," he said, his lips ghosting over your mound, placing a soft kiss just above your clit. "So sensitive," he purred, his mouth closing over your clit, his tongue swirling.
You moaned, squirming, but he held your thighs firmly, his grip strong, his hands so warm. His eyes met yours as he licked a slow stripe along your slit, the flat of his tongue teasing your clit. You were still very sensitive, and it was overwhelming, your hands went to his head and tried to push him away, but he didn't budge.
He chuckled, his hands coming up and grabbing yours, and he pinned them to your sides. He held you down and he buried his face between your legs, his tongue swirling and lapping at your clit.
You watched the way he devoured you, the sounds coming from his mouth were so filthy. He was humming and groaning, his dark eyes locked with yours. You couldn't look away, it was hypnotizing, the way his tongue moved, the way his lips sucked at your clit.
Elijah released one of your hands and slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping slowly, curling them, humming at the way you squeezed them.
"Elijah," you breathed, your voice raspy, your hand clutching at his hair.
"Yes, sweetheart?" He purred, his thumb finding your clit, and rubbing in slow circles.
You moaned, and you struggled against his grasp, desperate for friction, but he had you pinned.
"You're teasing," you whined.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his tongue darting out and flicking your clit, causing your body to jolt.
"No!" You cried, the pleasure was building, and your hips were trying to roll, but he was holding them down, his fingers moving faster.
He smirked, his mouth closing over your clit again, sucking gently, his fingers pumping faster. His hair was a mess and his lips were shining, coated with your juices. His fingers were thrusting deeper, and his thumb pressed against your asshole, not quite slipping in, but enough pressure to make you squirm.
"Eli, Eli, Eli," you chanted his name, unable to form full sentences, and he seemed to like it, his eyes closed, savoring the sound.
The familiar warmth returned, and the tension was building, the muscles in your stomach tightening, and your legs trembling. Elijah could feel you tighten around his fingers, and his eyes opened, watching you, his mouth never leaving your clit.
He sucked a little harder, his tongue swirling, and you could feel yourself getting close. Your nails were digging into his scalp, your other hand was gripping his arm, and you could barely move.
A long, drawn out moan came from the back of your throat, and you felt it, the wave, the warmth, the intense pressure, building, building, building.
"I'm-I'm-" you tried to speak, but your words caught, and then, just like before, the wave crashed.
Your back arched and your pussy throbbed around his fingers, a gush of wetness flowing out, soaking his face and hand.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned, your hands going to his head, your fingers twisting in his hair.
You could feel him smiling against your pussy, his fingers still moving, the sound was wetter, and sloppier, his face covered in your cum.
His lips sucked at your clit, his tongue swirling, the stimulation too much. Your thighs closed around his head and your legs locked him in place.
"Eli, don't, it's too much, it's too much," you pleaded, and his hands went to your thighs, pushing them open, gently kissing your clit before moving back.
You could hear his fingers squelching inside of you, and a soft blush dusted your cheeks, your hand went to his, and you held it still.
He smirked, moved up and captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of yourself making you moan. You ran your fingers through his hair, his mouth hungry against yours. His erection pressed into your thigh, the feeling making you desperate for more.
You pulled back, his eyes were wild and dark, filled with lust, and his lips were swollen and slick. You reached down and undid his belt, slowly pulling it off, keeping your eyes locked with his.
You unzipped his pants and reached into his boxers and took his length in your hand, a deep groan rumbling in his chest, his eyes closing as you stroked him.
The feeling of him was nice, it was warm, and his skin was soft. You liked the way he responded to you, the way he bit his lip, and the way his eyes fluttered.
He took his cock from your hand and rubbed the tip along your slit, up and down, coating himself with your arousal.
He was big and you wondered if he could make you cum with his cock alone. The way he had you angled, you could see everything, and his dick was sliding up and down, teasing you, hitting your clit with every stroke.
Your hands went to his shirt, and you started unbuttoning, the fabric sliding off, exposing his toned torso, his skin so warm and smooth, and his arms looked so good. You could stare at his forearms all day, you wanted him to pin you down, hold you still while he fucked you.
His lips claimed yours again, swallowing your moans, his hands pushing your legs further into the couch. Slowly sinking his cock inside of you, bottoming out.
You whimpered against his lips, his dick felt amazing, you were so full, his pubic bone pressed against you.
"Look at that," he cooed, taking a quick glance down, then meeting your eyes, "we fit together perfectly."
You loved the way he overwhelmed you, the way he touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he spoke, so low and gentle.
He slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip inside, and then thrusting forward, his pelvis grinding against yours. He kept a steady pace, his strokes slow, deep and hard.
You moaned into his mouth, your hands clinging to his shoulders, his arms, anywhere you could touch.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his words spoken against your lips, his nose nuzzling yours.
"Mhm," you hummed, your eyes shut tight, enjoying the feeling of him stretching you, his length reaching places that had never been touched before.
His finger gently traced over your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth, sucking his finger inside, swirling your tongue around it, biting the pad gently.
"Such a good girl," he purred, his eyes darkening.
You moaned around his finger, his pace quickening, his cock hitting a new spot, and it sent a rush through your core.
He removed his finger and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue parting your lips, slipping into your mouth, his hand holding the back of your neck.
"Daddy," the word slipped from your mouth and you froze. You didn't mean to say it, you were just so distracted, and in the moment, it slipped out.
Elijah chuckled, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, "Really?" He asked, his voice low and seductive.
Your heart was pounding, you didn't mean to say that, why did you say that? You opened your mouth to apologize, but he silenced you with a kiss
The kisses were deep, passionate, and it made you weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, his pace and rhythm was perfect, and he was driving you crazy.
The sounds of him thrusting into you, the smell of sex, his mouth on yours, the way he was touching you, it was so intoxicating, you never wanted him to stop.
He groaned, his pace quickening, and his cock hit that sweet spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You clung to him, your arms around his neck, and you moaned, the feeling so intense.
"That's it," he purred, his hands moving to the underside of your thighs, holding you open, his pace fast and hard, his pelvis slapping against yours.
"Oh, god, yes, daddy, fuck," you whined, unable to control the words coming from your mouth.
"Yes, sweetheart, cum for me," he growled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
You were so close, the warmth was returning, the now familiar heat pooling in your belly, and the tension building. Your hands gripped his biceps, the muscles flexing under your fingertips, his pace quickening.
"So sweet, so innocent, never cumming on a cock. What a shame," he mumbled, his teeth scraping over your skin, his tongue licking and soothing. "All those boys, touching themselves, wishing they were the ones to make you cum, but you chose me," his voice was low, his words making you flush, the way he was praising you was intoxicating.
"Only you," you gasped, the feeling in your core getting stronger, the waves of pleasure becoming more frequent.
He smiled, his hands moving to the back of your knees, pushing them towards you, your thighs pressed against the sides of your chest. He was folding you in half, his hips snapping forward, his cock hitting a new spot. "That's right, baby," he cooed. "No one else," his thrusts were faster and harder, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filled the room.
Your hands moved to the back of the sofa, trying to hold yourself steady, your back arching, the pleasure almost unbearable. "I'm gonna, I'm gonna, Eli-" you cried, the wave of warmth, the tension in your belly, the sparks under your skin, all coming to a peak.
The feeling exploded within you, your muscles spasming, Your back arched as the waves of pleasure washed over you, crashing through every cell of your body. You couldn't speak, couldn't moan, your mouth open in a silent cry, the euphoria indescribable.
Your head fell back and your legs trembled, and you felt a rush of warmth coat his cock, squeezing him so hard he was pushed out, but he quickly slid back in, the sensation making you squeal.
"That's it, cum on my cock, good girl," he said, his hands gripping your hips, his thrusts deep and hard.
You could see it in his face, the way his eyebrows drew together, his jaw slack, the veins in his neck were prominent, his hair disheveled. He was close, and it was turning you on, the sight of him losing control, knowing that you were the cause of it, was exhilarating.
His thrusts became faster and sloppy, his grip on your hips tightening, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your hands went to his hair, tugging at the strands, pulling him closer.
He moaned, his hips bucking, his cock pulsing inside of you. You could feel it, the rush of warmth, his cock twitching, the sound of him panting in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your neck.
You were both covered in sweat, his breathing heavy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close, holding him against you.
His head rose, and his eyes met yours, and he gave you a sleepy smile, his lips capturing yours in a lazy kiss. You hummed, your hand gripping his chest, sliding up to hold on to his shoulders.
Elijah groaned, his hands moving to your thighs, pulling them down, and wrapping your legs around his waist. Picking you up, and carrying you to his bathroom.
Soon, you were pressed against the cool tile of the shower, his strong hands massaging the soap into your skin, the water trickling down his muscular back. His fingers trailed over your hips, tracing the curves of your waist.
"So.. daddy?" He asked, his eyes sparkling.
"I'm so sorry," you apologized, blushing, covering your face with your hands.
He removed your hands and gave you a sly grin.
"I think I like it," he whispered, his voice low and husky, scooping you up and pinning you against the wall, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss.
The water was still running, but it wasn't important, because the only thing on your mind was him. His hands, his lips, his body, his voice, the way he held you, the way he loved you, the way he made you cum.
After, the two of you were lying on his bed, naked and spent, his arms wrapped around you, his lips brushing over your forehead.
"You know you aren't leaving my bed for a few days, right?" He asked, his voice deep and sleepy.
"Is that so?" You teased, nuzzling your face against his chest, inhaling his scent.
"Yes," he answered, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin.
"How many times do you think you can make me cum in the next 72 hours?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you challenging me?" He asked, a smile playing on his lips.
"Maybe," you purred, kissing his jaw, your fingers moving to his chest.
"Well," he began, his hand cupping your ass, his face breaking out into a wide grin, "let's find out.”
"everybody hates me" factoid actually just a statistical error. The average person doesn't hate you, especially not your friends. You, a person who sits in your room experiencing self loathing every day, are an outlier adn should not have been counted.
This is sweet but I really thought it was going to end with someone named “Haters Horge” who spends every second in a cave halfway across the world just loathing you for no reason and they were the statistical outlier
I don't know who needs to hear this but please please please please please explore the settings. Of your phone, computer, of every app you use. Investigate the UI, toggle some things around and see what happens. You won't break anything irreperably without a confirmation box asking you if you really mean to do that thing. And you can just look up what a setting will do before touching it if you're really worried ok?
Worst case scenario you just have to change the settings back if you don't like what happened but it is so so so important to explore the tools available to you and gain a better understanding for how the stuff you use works.
Even if you already know. Even if you're comfortable with how you use it now. You don't just have to accept whtever experience has been handed to you by default and it's good for you to at least know what's available to you.
Yeah. I've been "good at computers" since I was a kid and since I was a kid I've been telling people that all it is is a willingness to look at settings and push buttons.
Computers are good at "are you sure?" and "reset to defaults". There's a safety net. Go look at the options, and push 'em if you're not sure. That's like 90% of being "good at computers" : not being scared to push buttons and fiddle with options when something is broken or you need to learn a new thing
It always astounds me when I hear people complaining about things you can just...go change in the settings. It's there. Right there. Did you look? (They never look.)
All you need to do is mess with things and search for questions. Admittedly the enshittification of google et al has made that second part harder, but it's still worth trying before giving up.
“I shall never forget the occasion when I was visiting a school as a writer and the whole place suddenly fell into an uproar because the school tomboy - a most splendid Britomart of a girl - had beaten up the school bully. Everything stopped in the staffroom while the teachers debated what to do. They wanted to give the tomboy a prize, but decided reluctantly that they had better punish her and the bully too. They knew that if, as a child, you do pluck up courage to hit the bully, it is an act of true heroism - as great as that of Beowulf in his old age. I remember passing the tomboy, sitting in her special place of punishment opposite the bully. She was blazing with her deed, as if she had actually been touched by a god. And I thought that this confirmed all my theories: a child in her position is open to any heroic myth I care to use; she is inward with folktales; she would feel the force of any magical or divine intervention.”
When your 55 years old and your first friends ever are a 15 year old who you told to kill his grandpa, a 300+ year old witch who has odd intentions and has probs been drugging you, and an old man who spends all of his castle funds on new outfits and being sassy.
what is your eye color. what is your favorite color. what is the color that appears most frequently in your wardrobe. what color is your favorite blanket. what color is your water bottle.
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
kianamaiart
gracieabrams
