Sound Absorbing Blankets

“Where have you been, Cosette Blanche Warren?” he whispered darkly. My throat went dry. I could feel his hands roaming down my thighs, his touch possessive. “Someone saw my wife with Franklyn Carrington today,” Yohan continued, his voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me, Mrs. Warren… is that true?” A chill ran through me. His tone wasn’t affectionate—it was laced with something far more dangerous. “Open your eyes.” I jolted at his sudden command and immediately obeyed. My body trembled under the weight of his stare. His fingers curled under my chin, tilting my face closer. Slowly, agonizingly, he licked the corner of my lips before whispering against them. “What did I tell you before, wife?” Tears welled up as I struggled to form words. “I-I’m not allowed to meet…other men,” I stammered. “Hmmm.” His fingers traced lazy circles on my waist before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Then explain what happened earlier.” “Franklyn is just a friend, Yohan. I-I wasn’t doing anything wro—” “Liar!” he roared. I flinched as tears spilled down my cheeks. A scream tore from my throat when Yohan suddenly lifted me, throwing me onto the bed. My eyes widened in terror as he hovered over me, his expression twisted with something unrecognizable. “No one else can come near you, touch you, or even look at you because you belong to me alone, Cosette Blanche Warren!” His voice was a venomous snarl. “You will never escape me! You will never be happy! Because I won’t allow it!” Then, he laughed. A dark, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. This was my life now.

She lives on her own terms. He’s living on borrowed time. Neither of them planned on falling—especially not for each other. Blue has made a life out of leaving. Her summer is all dusty boots, soft sunsets, and smoky guitar covers shared with millions of followers from the back of her boho van. Portland was supposed to be a quick visit—just her best friend, a short-term gig harvesting,, and a little time to breathe.But then there’s Teddy.He’s the brooding, blue-eyed lead singer of No Name, the local grunge band with a sound that hits like a bruise and a smile that makes her forget how to breathe. He’s wild onstage and guarded off of it, carrying secrets behind that slow-burning gaze. He’s everything she never wanted: complicated, magnetic, dangerous in a way that feels too good to ignore.What starts as stolen glances and flirtation under stage lights turns into something hotter, deeper, harder to walk away from.They come from different worlds—but under the heat of a summer that feels endless, they collide in all the wrong ways that somehow feel right.And the only thing harder than falling for him… is trusting he won’t break her.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

Kyla is arranged to be married to Vixen, a powerful mafia boss with an unbroken reputation. To the outside world, he's cold, hard, ruthless, and merciless. She's kind, tender-hearted, beautiful, and caring. Given Vixen's reputation, Kyla doesn't want to fall in love, but soon, she learns that even the coldest hearts have a soft spot, and Vixen's just might be her. And although she doesn't like to admit it, hers might be him. Will they ever find love, or will this be a loveless marriage after all? ------- He raises his fist and I could swear I made a whimpering sound. I turn away and I look at the window as Vixen gets quiet. "Kyla." he says, his cold, hard mask still intact. I look at him, not saying anything, and he shifts in his seat, well aware of why I reacted that way. "Who did it?" he asks. I look down at my hands and I don't reply. "Was it those assholes at the university?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Kyla?" he says, his fingers brushing against my arm. I jump at his contact and suddenly a tear falls from my eyes. "God." he says as I begin to cry. I can tell he's not used to emotion.... "How was your first day sweetheart?" she asks sincerely. "A couple of frats tried getting in her panties in broad daylight and everyone around was gonna let it happen. How's that sound?" Vixen says, obviously still pissed.

This is a sexy and dark retelling of Beauty and the Beast where the beauty is a shy and sweet twenty-one year old girl and the beast is a twisted, psychotic, arrogant and cunning vampire. ****"C-can you p-please be gentle?" She meekly stuttered out between tears and hiccups. Her gaze still attached to the ceiling. Seconds passed. She could feel her cheeks heat up even after uttering that small request. What it implied. She'd never had sex before. She hadn't even seen a naked male before, in her entire life. She didn't know what to expect. But she definitely knew that it was going to hurt. The girls from her high-school had warned her of that. That it was going to hurt really bad at first. And that it wasn't actually that pleasant either. She startled at the sudden sound of his masculine chuckle. Her head instinctually turned to look at him before she could even try and stop herself. She watched him turn to lie on his side, his elbow digging into the soft pillow as he held his head in his hand. A sly smirk displaying on his beautifully-carved features. "And why would I do that?" He rose one brow. She immediately felt her cheeks burn even hotter. "B-because I asked you nicely," she bit her lip. Her hands were still tightly holding onto that duvet, keeping it at chin level. His gaze momentarily dropped to her mouth, taking notice of that small action. "A-and because I'm scared. I haven't done this before. Any of this," she truthfully admitted after a moment, her gaze lowering as she couldn't help but feel so embarrassed. About all of it. What she'd just told him, their current position. All of it. "You mean the sucking or the fucking part?"***

He doesn’t knock. He breaks the door down—and your back with it. In Nailed: Men In Heat, the men are ruthless, brutal, and always hard. They bend you over desks, shove you face-first into pillows, and split you open like they paid for the right. No sweet talk. No cuddling. Just cum, bruises, and the sound of skin slapping skin. You’ll gag. You’ll drool. You’ll beg. And he’ll just keep going. Spit-soaked. Ass-up. Throat-fucked. He’ll ruin your hole, coat your insides, and leave you leaking for days. If you’re not shaking by the end of the chapter? You’ll be begging for the next man to finish the job. These are raw, relentless, hole-filling fucks—and they always finish deep. One thrust and you’re addicted.

"Who is she?" My voice came out weak, foreign to my own ears. I despised the way it sounded--like a scared child-and I hated how he made me feel so small, so powerless. He let his breath out in a noisy sigh-a low, suffering sound, as if he was putting up with something beneath him. "Are we really doing this?" His voice was low now, tined with irritation. "It's not what you think. And even if it was, what are you going to do about it? You blind bat?" I froze, as tears slid down my face. I was just blind to him. A burden.

“Please Sir, don't divorce me. I will do whatever you want, but not a divorce.” Carolyn pleaded desperately with the man that everything about him was screaming danger.  She was taken aback by the coldness the man was exuding when he turned to face her. His eyes held so much darkness that she flinched. All her senses awoke blaring alarm bells in her head to get away, but to where? She had been walking helplessly in the street after she discovered her aunt's cruel intentions towards her on her wedding day. Until that young man mistook her as the bride of this man and brought her to the altar to marry this man who is scaring the living daylights out of her. He took a slow stride to her, held her chin with his index finger making her eyes meet his, and said. “Little bunny, you did not only trick my assistant into believing you're my bride, but you're also asking for a favor?“ “I'd like to sound a note of warning. Being my wife means you're ready to stay in my hell. You seem too fragile to be in my abyss, you might die, and there's no going back once you're in. Are you still willing?". He asked. “Yes, I am willing. In exchange, you'll have to protect me from my aunt and her goons.” She boldly declared. The man squirted his eyes at the little bunny in front of him for whatever reason, she was the most audacious woman he had ever come across and a devilish smile curled up his lips and said. “STRIP AND PLEASURE YOURSELF WIFEY.” And Carolyn's jaws dropped. Did she make the right decision by entering into a deal with the devil?  Will she regret her actions? READ TO FIND OUT. 

"Baby girl, we need to tell you something." There was a dead silence as my ears itched to hear about it. "Firstly, I want you to know that your dad and I love you and no matter what happens, we love you very much. And remember, that you are the best thing to happen to us and that you are not a mistake, no matter what happens." I don’t know why they are telling me this but I don’t like the sound of this at all. It sounded to me like something foreboding was going to happen. Mom continued. "There is a group called the Revenants. They are the oldest living werewolves in history, descended directly from Cain." "You mean Cain in the bible?" I have always thought that the bible character was a myth. "That exact one." She nodded. "What do they want with me?" In the small, mist-shrouded town of Silverwoods, High school junior, Luna Samuels leads a seemingly normal life. Raised in a loving, but sheltered family, Luna has always felt like there’s something more to the town than meets the eye. Strange happenings, inexplicable coincidences, and a growing sense of unease have made her question her place in this mysterious world. Silverwoods is a haven for the supernatural, a secret Luna is unaware of until she encounters the mysterious new student, Ethan Blackwell. Ethan is captivating, with his brooding demeanor and otherworldly charm, but he harbors a wild secret:he is a werewolf, heir to the alpha position in the local pack. As their paths cross in the hallways of Silverwoods High, an undeniable attraction sparks between them and secrets are discovered. Will their love stand the tests of time or will they get separated by external forces?

She was killed by her husband and her twin sister just because of her money, left to burn with the baby in her womb, and after obtaining a third degree burn, she is left unrecognizable, a complete monster. But that doesn't bother her, because her baby is safe and sound, but then, she hears that her baby, her precious baby boy did not make it, and all hell is let loose. Now, after going through numerous plastic surgeries, she is reborn, with more vigor and fire in her heart, and more beauty to her credit. She is set out to kill and destroy, and nothing will stand in her way, not even a second chance at love; or will it?