#OOF MY SPELLING AND GRAMMAR IN THIS

[tricks-n-illusions]

Wasnt sure how exactly to present this, so I thought maybe through ask would be best…. But I drew Silas cause he is a really neat character!

AAA!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DRAWING HIM!! HE LOOKS AMAZING IN YOUR STYLE 😭😭💖 The pose is just,, GOOD STUFF!! He's ready to cause all the trouble 🤭

I'm really glad you like him ;; I honestly did not expect so many people to enjoy my lil shit head Silas?? I thought he would be a pretty unlikeable character considering how he can be in the story, and well how bad his past and present actions are.

People liking him makes me so happy 🥺 He's my bastard mans

Thank you so much for the drawing!! It looks amazinggg, I love this imma keep it in my pocket to stare at later 💖

[realjoehours]

ya boy just finished reading wolf island so now i’m going to talk about that because that sure was an experience (prepare for all over the place rambling)

kicking it back into our main man Grubbs’ point of view after spending a book with Bec and the book starts out pretty slow. it’s establishing things we already know and things we’ve already read from Bec’s perspective. it’s only after Grubbs, Shark and Meera part from the rest of the group that things start to actually pick up and become interesting.

this book isn’t as demon focused as the previous few have been and is much more werewolf centric but i guessed it would be from the name and also because that was the established quest for team Grubbs in Death’s Shadow. the only demons we really get in this book is the demon that Beranabus, Kernel and Grubbs were beating up at the start of the book while in the universe of the demonata and then i guess Juni, if you want to count her as a demon because she definitely isn’t a human anymore anyway.

it’s always a pleasure to have Meera around in the books and prior to going into this book the only experience i really had with Shark that notably stands out to me is all the way back in Demon Thief when he shows up with a young Dervish. outside of that notable experience he really hasn’t featured a whole lot outside of serving as a commander in Demon Apocalypse and then of course coming to Dervish’s mansion after the Lambs attack and after Dervish has his heart attack. because he hadn’t really featured much i didn’t really see a reason to be attached to the man but after spending most of a book with the guy and seeing him interact with the others i can confirm i’m now attached. he’s a cool guy and i hope there’s more of him soon (hopefully his recovery is smooth).

i absolutely loved the character dynamics between the characters in this book you can really tell that they care for each other. i absolutely adored Grubbs and Kernel’s reactions at the beginning of the book to Meera and Shark showing up in the demonata universe. i thought that with the shift in Grubbs’ character in the latter half of the book when he lets the wolf free that the dynamics wouldn’t be the same and yes they’ve changed but not a whole lot. sure Meera was hesitant and perhaps terrified at first she soon lapses back to a kind of normality with Grubbs before she parts ways with him in the last few chapters to help stop a crossing elsewhere.

speaking of Grubbs’ transformation, good for him. good on him finally being able to find himself in his own body and find a balance between him, the beast within him and the kah-gash. he no longer has to fight himself. it took me way longer than it should’ve to realise that the half man half wolf amalgamation depicted on the cover of the book was Grubbs (i only realised when i had to put the book down when Dervish talks about how he wants to be the one to choose when he dies and how he wants to do it on his turf (earth)). his new form and brand new abilities that come with it give him his own unique attributes that set him apart from the other members of the kah-gash as prior to this Grubbs didn’t have one. Bec has her memory soaking abilities, Kernel has his light panel seeing abilities and now Grubbs has his wolfen form and the heightened senses, speed and strength that come with it.

speaking of Kernel i think they’re just going with he’s dead, or at least Bec is convinced he is. but i mean i doubt Darren Shan would just kill off a member of the kah-gash with seemingly no reason to and even if Kernel were to die that’d be a big deal and it wouldn’t really be brushed off as a lesser death, he’s a piece of an ultra powerful world shattering universe erasing weapon god dammit. for now his disappearance remains a mystery and i can only hope that Dark Calling explains what the hell happened to him while he was guarding the window in Death’s Shadow, why he disappeared and where he’s been. and one can also hope that it’ll be from Kernel’s perspective too, he deserves another book from his perspective.

in terms of deaths this book there was a lot. all of the soldiers that were part of Shark’s dirty dozen (a reference that is lost on me) unfortunately didn’t survive the mission to Wolf Island but i wasn’t very attached to any of them so it was okay. sure i felt sorry for them as they were ripped to shreds by werewolves (and gun fire) but as Grubbs puts it in the book when Shark only introduces most of them by first name that it’s better that way because when it comes down to survival and loosing them it won’t hurt as much because it’s not as if he knew them beyond that name. and then of course there was all of the werewolves that were blown up when Timas set off those several bombs and the dominant wolf of the werewolf pack that Grubbs kills too. there’s also the massacre of all of the lamb soldiers and technicians within the compound. and finally probably the best death of the book Antoine Horowitz. Antoine was the brand new ceo of the Lambs who was incredibly insistent that he accompany Shark’s dirty dozen to Wolf Island to find and get answers from Prae Athim, former ceo who has supposedly went rogue and took all these werewolves to this island. and in a twist i didn’t see coming Prae Athim isn’t the big bad that i was expecting her to be it’s actually Antoine who we all should’ve been looking out for as he brings out his rosary when they reach the island and spends a long while doing what was thought to be just him saying prayers but was instead him opening a window of which Juni enters through (her coming directing from the cruise liner that the others are on). in retrospect it makes a lot of sense why he was so insistent that he went with the others to Wolf Island because if he hadn’t then who would’ve summoned Juni? anyways he gets ripped apart by werewolves.

somebody who didn’t die in this book that i fully expected to die was Prae. with the whole quest against her and all i thought she was going to be a goner for sure, even more so when she and Timas hang back to hold of the approaching werewolves to protect Grubbs and Meera. but she doesn’t die after all! and is now resuming her role as ceo of the Lambs but after everything she saw on that day, because yes everything that happens on Wolf Island is one day, she’s going to change Lambs for the better and go back to their original mission. they’ll still be looking for a cure but their main mission is to help the kids in the Grady Clan who’ve turned. no more killing, no more werewolf breeding, no more experimenting, no more being kept like caged animals and no more lies. instead of killing the kids that are afflicted they’ll instead be brought to Wolf Island where they can live free as part of the pack. Prae is has a long way to come in improving herself after all of the things she has done while in the Lambs but this new promise is a start to bettering the organisation and her brush with death has seemed to have awakened something in her to do better.

somebody else i feared would die this book was Dervish. his heart is in such horrible shape i was half convinced that he’d die at sea on that life boat with Bec and Kirilli, becoming their next meal. and with the chapter that Grubbs finally sees him in again being called “This Is The End, Beautiful Friend” i really thought he was a goner but no Shan’s just toying with my emotions again. he doesn’t have much time left though and he’s not got much fight in him either. i hope that if he does die though that he gets to go out quick and painlessly. and i hope that Grubbs and Bec are by his side because the last thing i want to read about his him dying alone.

also we get a Kirilli come back in the same chapter and he’s wooing the nurses of his tales of heroism on the ship and how he fought so many zombies and he’s talking about his missing fingers too. he’s such a loser oh my god. and when the window in the city opens like Meera was told it would Dervish literally gets out of his death bed to go and fight while Kirilli is in the corner throwing up. he’s a lover not a fighter. he goes anyway because otherwise the nurses will know that he was lying about his heroism and he just plays off his cowardice as him just needing his torn to pieces coat so he can look cool while kicking demon butt. never change Kirilli never change.

oh! how could i forget of the new character and very important character introduced in the beginning of this book! i’ve literally mentioned him in this post several times before too lol. anyways on to Timas! Timas is this very tall man and close link to Shark who’s a genius when it comes to computers and technology being able to track down anybody or anything to its original sources. if he hadn’t came in and located the nearest Lambs building and then located Wolf Island Grubbs, Shark and Meera would probably still be sitting in their hotel rooms trying to figure out what their next move will be. he’s described as an oddball throughout the book and yea sure he may be weird to an outsider but personally i think this man definitely has autism with a hyper fixation on technology, very blunt in a lot of responses and also doesn’t outwardly express emotions the same as the rest of the cast which makes him come across as just being calm and unfazed due to him typically just having a resting grin on his face. i think Timas is very cool. i’m glad he didn’t die in this book because if he died at any point the whole team would’ve no doubt been goners because, not to discredit those who died and made massive sacrifices for Grubbs and Meera to survive, but Timas’ brains saved the group from death on several occasions. he parts ways with Grubbs and Meera when they reach land to be there for Shark when he wakes up after surgery in hospital which hopefully means that he’ll appear again in either the next book or in Hell’s Heroes because i could see him being a very useful asset in the fight against Death. sure he isn’t a mage or magically inclined in any way whatsoever but he is incredible when it comes to technology, researching and recalling the things he’s researched as well as being very intelligent too. and in a fight against Death you’ll take whatever help you can get, that’s why Kirilli is on the team after all.

also before i talk about Shark and his injuries that i mentioned above i want to mention a funny observation that i’ve made regarding Dervish, Meera and Shark in Death’s Shadow and Wolf Island. all three of them have used the expression “remind me to give you a big kiss after this” (of course worded slightly differently depending on who’s saying it). Dervish says it too Meera when they’re in the secret room in the wine cellar after the werewolf attacks in Death’s Shadow (or it’s Meera who says it and Dervish just agrees i can’t remember) and then both Shark and Meera say it to Timas in this book after he makes some life saving observation and plan for the team (i don’t remember which one). i thought that when the line was used in this book that it would be dismissed as a one off thing like it is in Death’s Shadow, because i mean Dervish then collapses of a heart attack a few moments later, but it actually isn’t! and Timas brings it up when him and Prae are staying behind to hold off the werewolves so that Grubbs and Meera can escape and live as he apologises to Meera that he wouldn’t be able to receive that kiss that she had promised him as he’d be dead to which Meera jokes that she lied and wouldn’t kiss him which makes Timas actually sad until she tells him she’s joking, Meera don’t be mean to my man >:(. that isn’t even the end of this bits as it’s brought up by Timas again when he parts ways with Meera and Grubbs as he says about the promise that Meera made, which she’s forgotten about because of all of the commotion. and i’m just going to pull this straight from the book because i just thought it was the funniest thing ever:

…“I know,” he says, then turns to Meera “Time to make good on that promise.” “What promise?” Meera squints. Timas grabs her and bends her backwards, supporting her with one arm. “A kiss for your sweet prince,” he murmurs, smooching up to her. Meera pretends to struggle, but then grins and treats him to a kiss that’s even hotter than Shark’s curses.

and like while that’s happening Grubbs is just kind of standing there waiting for them to be done with it. another funny bit that has nothing to do with the previously mentioned bit is when Grubbs confronts Antoine and he asks Grubbs what had happened to him (referring to his new wolfen form) and Grubbs just replies with “Teenage Angst”. that was funny to me.

anyway onto Shark he’s ambushed by one of the werewolves while the group is fleeing from the cave and he stays behind fighting off to werewolves which allows for the team to make for the cliff side to escape (they don’t end up doing so). Shark is then absent until the later chapters of the book as everyone presumes that he’s dead and he sacrificed himself for them dying in action like a true hero. but no Shark isn’t killed that easily and he lives! he’s able to compose himself enough after the fight to drag his very wounded self back to the facility where he’s then able to lower an escape boat and climb down the rope ladder to escape boat where he simply lay while Grubbs and the werewolves massacre the Lambs, Grubbs fights Juni and hears her vision (i’ll elaborate on that in my last bit), them discovering about what happened with the others on the cruise ship, the werewolves murdering Antoine and Prae vowing to be a better person and to completely change the Lambs. good thing Grubbs, Meera and Timas found him when they did because Shark really wasn’t in good shape down there as Timas goes point out that his innards are poking out of a wound on his back. thankfully there’s an ambulance that rushes him to hospital when they reach land because god knows he needs it. i can only assume that this isn’t the last time we’ll see the battle hungry Shark in these books and fingers crossed he recovers in time for the end of the world…

speaking of the end of the world did you know that Grubbs is going to be the cause of it? apparently so! or at least according to the vision that Juni had during her battle against Grubbs in the compound. that’s the only reason why Grubbs survived the battle too because if Juni hadn’t had that vision when she did he’d be dead. Grubbs is part of the kah-gash which is a weapon that can hypothetically be used to destroy not just worlds but universes but Juni didn’t say the kah-gash she never even mentioned Bec or Kernel in this vision it was just Grubbs. which is really strange. what’s also strange is that the kah-gash has seemingly only been talking to Grubbs also as i don’t remember it ever speaking to Bec during Death’s Shadow and i can’t speak for Kernel because he hasn’t had a point of view since his introductory book Demon Thief when the concept of the kah-gash being a thing that exists was introduced. also Grubbs is back to withholding information that seems like it would be extremely beneficial to tell the other disciples, but then again if i was told that i was going to be the reason the world ends i’d struggle to word that to somebody else too.

despite the lack of Kirilli in this book it was an amazing read (i’m joking even if there was no Kirilli it’s still an amazing read) and i loved the character development that Grubbs is going through in this book as he embraces his “true self” and becomes a more confident leader. and everybody better get ready because the end is near and Death doesn’t wait for anybody… or well i guess he can wait one more book so we can figure out where Kernel went to.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Safe (M, cold)

Well, here I am.

It's been a few months since I've written anything in the Elliot's universe, but recently someone asked for a Mark-centric story, and this behemoth is what ensued. Allow me to preface by saying this: Mark is basically my self-insert. This was a very hard story to write. If it sucks, my apologies, hah.

In this, Mark gets sick from Matt and wants to hide it from Elijah. It is significantly more hurt/comfort-slash-sickfic than snzfic, honestly. It starts fairly benign, fluffy, and silly and gets really intense a few pages in. There's a lot of musing, a lot of being inside Mark's head. Idk. I'm not sure if I love it or hate it. This is the first story I've written on here that has taken me a full week to get down, and that I've written and scrapped multiple scenes. It is very long. I really hope you enjoy it if you read it. I'd love to hear your thoughts, but also understand if it's just too long-winded for people to read. Also, there's a real chance of spelling/grammar errors because I just can't look at this monster of a fic any longer, ha.

Anyway. Onward.

CW: Male snz, illness, coughing, contagion. 6K words (almost exactly)

Safe

“Don’t go near them.”

It’s the first thing that hit his ears as he pushed through the swinging kitchen doors; no ‘hi, Mark,’ no, ‘good morning’, just a barked order with absolutely zero context thrown in. Mark whipped his head in the direction of the stern voice of his boss.

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered, making his way towards the office, where Elijah was stationed, seated, but not doing any computer work. “Who and what are we avoiding?” he asked as he entered.

“The chefs,” Elijah said, moving his chair to let the younger manager in to sit. Mark placed his backpack on the ground, tossed his coat over top of Greyson’s on the second office chair. Waited for further explanation that did not come.

“Okay…” he said, sitting beside his boss. “And we’re not going near them because…?” Mark hadn’t even seen Greyson or Matt yet this morning. The avoiding was being done for him, so what was Elijah’s deal?

Elijah hummed a low disapproval – of what, Mark couldn’t guess – and turned towards his computer. “You’ll see,” he said, shaking his mouse and pulling up an order guide. “Just don’t breathe your boyfriend’s breath, okay?”

Mark colored at the implication; it had only been a couple of months since Matt and Mark had been outed to the restaurant, and the floor manager still wasn’t used to their relationship being casually dropped into conversation. While Elijah busied himself with admin work, Mark stood – time to figure out what the fuck Elijah was on about.

You would think that finding chefs in a kitchen would be a relatively banal business; they’re chefs. They’re cooking. Hardly a moving target – but you’d be wrong. Somehow, the second a front of house manager starts looking for a chef, they become a ghost. They haven’t existed for a thousand years – are you sure this restaurant even has a chef? Mark couldn’t help but ponder how the fuck this hundred-square-foot kitchen somehow became a labyrinthian nightmare the second he wanted to find his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s boss; c’mon, he’d checked the walk-in, the back kitchen, even the dock to see if they were smoking, where the fuck were they?

Maybe Elijah had told the two of them to stay away from Mark and the front of house staff before the floor manager arrived, and they were playing a cat-and-mouse style keep-away game that Mark was unaware of. Or maybe they had gone to the store to pick up chicken or some shit. Either way, Mark was done looking. Elijah said don’t go near them, he thought to himself, heading back towards the front of the kitchen, easy enough.

Of course, it was the moment that Mark decided he was done looking that he quite literally bumped into his boyfriend coming through the kitchen doors.

“Oof,” Matt grunted as they collided. Greyson, not even a step behind him, turned their two-person bump into a three-car-pileup that nearly ended in hot coffee being spilled over all of them.

“Christ, Chef, watch where you’re going,” Matt muttered untangling himself from the middle of the pack.

“Mbe watch where I’mb going?” Greyson asked, wiping his coffee-covered hand on his chef’s pants. “The two of you are practically grinding on each other here and I ndeed to watch where I’mb going?”

Mark clocked it in the chef’s voice immediately – oh. That’s what Elijah meant.

But… he had said both of them… right?

Mark’s head shot up from checking to make sure he didn’t have coffee all over his button-down to look Matt directly in the face – ah. Fuck.

“Hh-! Hh’ITSHZH-ue! HRTSHH-ue!” Matt collapsed to the side to sneeze, seemingly in lieu of responding to Greyson’s dig. “Snf. Fuck off, Chef.” There it was.

“Bless you,” Mark said, attempting not to sound accusatory. Matt just nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Sorry.”

Before Mark could respond to the unnecessary apology, Elijah’s voice rang out once again from the office. “Mark, I told you to stay away from them!” The GM stood from his desk chair and strode into the kitchen, physically pushing Mark and Matt away from one another. “Six foot distance,” he said, pointing at both of them. “And you,” he said, addressing his counterpart, “didn’t I tell you to go get some tea and sit the fuck down? We have a big night tonight and I need you conscious, please.”

Greyson rolled his eyes and held up his cup. “I was on mby way to sit when the children starting gyrating on each other in the mbiddle of mby kithcen,” he said. “Don’t put this one on mbe.”

Elijah squeezed the bridge of his nose, frustrated. “First of all,” he said, moving towards Greyson and plucking the cup from his hand, “that isn’t tea.”

“The tea we buy is gross,” Greyson whined. “And I’mb ti – hh! Hh...hhuh-ETSHZH-ue! Snrf, fuck.” Greyson took a moment to collect himself, to wipe his nose on his sleeve and cough – a wet, concerning sound – before finishing his sentence. “I’mb tired,” he said, snatching the cup back.

“Which is why I told you to go sit down,” Elijah said, pressing his palms together and accentuating each word with his hands. “And please do not get my front of house manager sick. I beg, Greyson.”

“Talk to him,” Greyson said, thumbing towards Matt. “I’mb ndot the one with my tongue in Mark’s mbouth twenty-four-seven.”

Mark’s face flamed once again, but Matt, either too sick to care or beyond the embarrassment that was a public relationship in the work place, just rolled his eyes.

“Jealous, much?” Matt asked under his breath. Greyson shot daggers with a glance at his sous, and Mark decided it was probably time to step in.

“Listen, how about I go grab the two of you some medicine from down the street, you both take a rest, and then by the time the meds have kicked in, everyone should be good for service.” Mark looked to Elijah for his blessing; his boss was obviously mulling it over, considering. “And this way, I’ll be out of the metaphorical splash zone,” he finished, which finally prompted a nod from Elijah.

“Okay,” his boss said. “Good idea, Mark. You two – come with me.”

The GM led the two chefs back into the dining room to lay in the back booth while Mark let out a sigh. He was happy, of course, to be out of the fight, to have seemingly calmed everyone down, and to have put his boss’s mind at ease.

Unfortunately, he was fairly sure that – despite Elijah’s eased mind – it was already too late for keeping himself away from the newest restaurant pestilence.

***

“Elijah is going to kill me, Matt.”

“Oh, please, he is ndo – ITSZCHH-ue! ndot,” Matt said, swiping the bottle of Dayquil from Mark’s hand and chugging it. “You gonna sit?” he asked, sniffling and patting the milk crate beside him and shivering. Mark sighed.

“I’m not gonna sit, because Elijah is going to kill me even more if he sees me sitting right next to you.”

“I’mb gonna go out on a limb here and say that’s ndot possible,” Matt said, dissolving at the end of his sentence into a chesty cough.

“You’re coughing now, too?” Mark asked, worry about Elijah’s anger usurped very suddenly by concern for his boyfriend. Mark placed a hand to Matt’s head. “Oh, honey.”

“Sorry,” Matt said, not bothering to move Mark’s hand. Mark huffed out a little laugh.

“Don’t apologize for being sick. Please,” he said, moving his hand to cup Matt’s cheek. “Even if Elijah might kill us both.”

Matt smiled, pressed his face harder into Mark’s hand. “You might ndot get sick. You ndever know,” he muttered, eyes closing as Mark held his head up.

“Matt,” Mark laughed, “I mean… I don’t think that’s, uh, possible after last night.” Matt’s eyes blinked open at the mention of it, and a little smile flitted across his lips.

The apartment had been quiet.

“Matt?” Mark called as he stepped inside. “Babe, are you home?”

He strained his ears; the shower was on. Mark had an idea.

He tiptoed across the cold apartment floor, quietly stripping as he went; by the time he got to the bathroom door, he was nude as the day he was born. The bathroom door wasn’t closed all the way, so he pushed inside silently and pulled back the curtain.

A fact about Matt that shocked Mark more than anything was that the man did not get scared. He had yawned through their first haunted house together; he fell asleep during the Terrifier movies, for Christ’s sake. So Mark was unsurprised when, instead of screaming bloody murder the way he would’ve if Matt snuck up on his in the shower, his boyfriend simply turned away from the spray and smiled.

“You’re early,” he murmured, ushering Mark in.

“I came right from the gym,” Mark said, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. “I wanted to see you.”

“Mmmm,” Matt hummed, pressing himself into Mark’s arms. “That’s nice, baby.”

They stood that way for a few minutes, until Mark tipped Matt’s chin up towards his face. “I wanted to see you,” he said, pressing his lips onto Matt’s neck, “but I also wanted to… do things. With you.”

Matt’s breath caught in the back of his throat. “Yeah?” he asked, voice low. “Like what?”

Mark stood back to his full height, and pushed Matt against the shower wall. “Let me show you.”

“Fair enough,” Matt said now, lifting his head. “But, I mbean, are you feeling okay right ndow?”

He was, for the moment. But, Matt had seemed alright last night, and clearly he’d already been on the trajectory towards ill – despite that fact that he had been very good at hiding it. Whatever he and his boss had picked up was certainly quick to come on.

“I’m fine, baby, don’t worry about me,” Mark said, rummaging through the drug store bag to hand Matt, who’d fallen into another paroxysm of coughing, the Robitussin. “I’m more worried about you than anything.”

Matt snapped the top off and chugged this medicine as well, seemingly without any concern about mixing two medications. “Babe, it’ll be fine. I kndow Elijah is worried about getting through the weekend, but it’s ndot like any of us haven’t worked with a cold before.” He shrugged then, handed Mark the medicine, and stood. Mark stood as well, and once again cupped Matt’s hot face – this time with both hands.

“Please just take it a little bit easy tonight, okay?” Mark said. “I know Greyson is sick, too, but don’t try to do too much. We don’t need another moment like a few months ago.”

“And to think I’d just forgotten about that,” Matt said, going on tiptoe to kiss his boyfriend. “I’ll be okay.” Mark kissed him back, a little longer than was maybe necessary; long enough that neither of them heard the back door open until it was too late.

“Mark, what the fuck are you doing?”

Oh, fuck.

Elijah.

***

By the end of the night, Greyson and Matt were shadows of their former selves.

“Hh-! Hhhuh… hhNGTSHH-ue! HRTSHH! ETSZCH-ue! Fuuuck mbe,” Greyson muttered as he wrenched into the sleeve of his hoodie – chef coats had been abandoned about an hour into service, when both he and Matt started shivering hard enough to fuck up the plating on more than half the dishes – for the millionth time that night. He attempted to clear his throat, prompting a flurry of congested coughs.

Behind him, Matt was sitting on the cold, industrial kitchen ground, head between his knees. “I’mb gonna pass out, I just kndow I am.”

“Don’t fuckigg pass out,” Greyson growled, pulling his sous to his feet. “You ndeed to get your blood mboving, you gotta stand up. Idiot.”

The two of them, bickering and sneezing in near-unison by the pass, had captivated the attention of both front of house managers, who had turned away from their computer work to watch the mess unfold.

“Hope you like what you see,” Elijah said, finally. “Because that’s gonna be you tomorrow.”

Behind his boss’s back, Mark rolled his eyes. “Boss, I’m fine. I don’t feel sick at all, trust me, I’m going to be okay.” It was mostly true; he’d sneezed a few more times today than was normal for him, yes. And he was a little tired – no more than usual, surely. The rawness in the back of his throat was easily ignored with huge gulps of water. He was fine.

“Mmm,” Elijah said, swinging his chair around to look the younger man in the eye, “sure. Whatever you say, Mark; just remember, if you look even close to how bad Matt does tonight, you’re off the floor. And I mean off the floor until you return to normal. A cold is one thing; whatever these two have is entirely another. Understood?”

Mark swallowed around his burgeoning sore throat; off the floor. Off the floor didn’t mean relegated to busywork behind the scenes; it meant sent home. Being sent home meant days without a backup manager to help Elijah on the floor, and no one to help on the floor meant Elijah would realize there was a gap in their team. A gap in management. Mark had been the only floor manager in all the years Elliot’s had been open; Elijah had mentioned a few times that maybe they should hire another person, someone to cover if both Mark and Elijah couldn’t come in, but Mark had been vehemently against it. Elijah couldn’t hire another manager, because if he did, he’d see how truly unqualified Mark had been for his position all this time. Once he saw how unqualified he was, he’d be out on his ass. No job, no money… no second family. No place he truly belonged.

Mark’s face flushed, and he cast his eyes towards the floor. “Yes, boss,” he said. “I understand.”

“Good,” Elijah said, nodding. “Now, go collect your boyfriend and take him to bed.”

***

The first time Mark was sick while working at Elliot’s was well over a year into his tenure.

Elijah had regarded Mark with concern, clocking him as unwell the second he sat in the office. “You don’t look well,” he said. “Are you feeling okay?”

Mark’s face had flushed, embarrassed; not getting sick for over a year working front of house was honestly a feat of accomplishment in the restaurant industry, but he still felt guilty for coming down with something, despite its inevitability. He shrugged, an attempt at playing it cool.

“I’mb okay, boss,” Mark croaked. “Just a cold.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Are you sure it’s just a cold? You feel okay to work?”

Mark raised an eyebrow, confused. Did he look that unwell? “I mbean… yeah?” he said, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Why?”

“Well,” Elijah said, opening a drawer and pulling out cold medicine, along with a small bag that looked like it could’ve come from his mother’s medicine cabinet. “A cold, we can work with.”

The GM explained to him, then, that there were marked differences between the front of house cold, and the back of house cold. “You’ve seen Greyson sick at work a dozen times,” Elijah said, passing Mark a cup full of pills and a water bottle. “Right?”

“Sure,” Mark said, swallowing the pills around a painfully sore throat. “It’s ndot like he’s hiding it.”

“Right. Right,” Elijah said, popping open a stick that looked like – was that concealer? “The chefs, the cooks – they don’t have to hide anything. Us, though? No one wants to be served soup by someone with a stuffy nose. We all get the same shit, but only they’re allowed to look like shit.” He dabbed the concealer under Mark’s eyes, used an expert finger to blend it into his skin. “That’s the industry for you.”

“Are you… putting makeup on mbe?” Mark asked, laughing a bit.

“Sure am,” Elijah said. “A little concealer goes a long way in this profession, Mark. Concealer, and enough meds to tranquilize an elephant.” His boss closed the little concealer pen, put the medicine and makeup away. “I want you on the floor, but I want you to look… alive.” Elijah shut the drawer, shrugged. “Let me know if you start feeling really shitty. Otherwise? Come to the back to blow your nose, and feel free to help yourself to whatever you want in here.”

Mark blinked, a little confused, but grateful for the advice. Elijah seemed… almost fatherly, like this, and he could feel embarrassing tears welling in his eyes at this, the smallest gesture of being cared for. Mark looked down, cleared his throat. “Uh… okay, boss. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Elijah said, patting Mark’s knee. “We’ve gotta take care of each other in this hell hole of an industry, y’know?”

Mark couldn’t look up. The thought of his boss seeing him cry was entirely too much for him to handle. “Right,” he whispered. “Right.”

***

The hardest part of hiding an illness, Mark knew from experience, was speaking.

Putting on makeup and looking like a human instead of a corpse? Easy. He’d learned how to apply concealer so it didn’t look like he was in drag – just enough that in the dim lighting of the restaurant you couldn’t tell if those were dark circles or shadows. He’d learned if you added a tiny bit of blush to your cheeks, no one noticed that your nose was also red, and he’d figured out the hard way that there was never a world in which he needed eyeliner, even if it made his eyes look less bloodshot.

He always dressed immaculately when he wasn’t feeling well; extra-crisp button down, sport coat, his expensive Ray Ban glasses, not the cheapos from Zenni he usually donned. Mark shined his shoes the second he felt a tickle in his throat, broke out the cuff links if he suddenly sneezed more than thrice in a row. He’d been trained well by Elijah to hide the visual cues of any oncoming malady.

Hiding how he really felt came even more naturally; he’d been practicing that since childhood. Complaining wasn’t in his nature, or had maybe been stamped out entirely at some point – either way, Mark could be actively passing out, unable to breathe, coughing so hard he couldn’t form a sentence, and he wouldn’t even mention it. Of course, he’d been sent home from work for being ill before, but never once had he chosen to go. Even the thought of saying ‘I’m sick’ made him dizzy with unease. You need to work through that in therapy, Matt had said to him multiple times, and he knew it was true, but it was also helpful. In this industry, admitting defeat was akin to admitting you sucked at your job.

The voice, though? That was always what gave him away. No matter how much medicine he took, he could always hear the rasp that overtook his voice immediately. His m’s and n’s turned to rounded shadows of their former selves even if he blew his nose every five minutes. His timbre lowered considerably, to the point that when Matt first saw him sick he asked how it felt to be able to do a perfect Johnny Cash, but only when he felt like shit. It was a problem, but Mark was a pretty quiet guy in general. If he was quieter than usual, usually no one was the wiser.

That’s what he hoped – that his boss would be none the wiser – as he dressed in his perfectly-tailored suit that morning, stifling sneeze after painful sneeze into handfuls of tissue all the while. Just don’t talk, he thought as he dotted Maybeline under his eyes. No one has to know.

Of course, not talking was a bit… difficult when his boss was around. “Good morning,” Elijah called to Mark as he buzzed through the kitchen, trying to make his way into the dining room without having to make small talk. Dammit. Mark stopped, begrudgingly, and nodded at his boss, who raised both eyebrows at the younger manager’s outfit choice. “Is there an event tonight I’ve forgotten?”

Mark shook his head, straightened his tie. “Just felt like dressing up,” he said, tactfully avoiding words with too many nasal letters. “How’re you, boss?”

“I’m well,” Elijah said, pointedly. He patted the empty chair next to him, prompting Mark to sit; don’t let him get a good look at you, a voice in Mark’s head chastised. Don’t get taken off the floor. “Greyson’s not coming in till three, if you want to do your preshift report in here today.”

“That’s okay,” Mark said. “I like the dining roomb.” Fuck.

Elijah cocked his head to the side, but didn’t mention Mark’s voice. “How’s Matt feeling?” he asked, another pointed question.

“He’s okay – a little better. Said he’d be here at four.” Mark patted himself on the back for maneuvering around any pesky m’s or n’s that time. Elijah nodded slowly.

“Glad to hear it,” Elijah said, standing. The younger manager was several inches taller than his boss, but Elijah was still able to look him fairly closely in the eye. Once again, one word rattled around in Mark’s head: fuck. “How are you feeling?”

Mark allowed a smile to form on his rapidly-chapping lips. “Good, boss. Ready to work,” he said simply. God, he needed to clear his throat. And more than that, he really, really needed to blow his nose.

Elijah nodded. “Alright,” he said, apparently placated. “Go ahead, then.”

“Thanks, boss,” Mark said, stepping out of the office doorway and pushing through the swinging kitchen doors before Elijah could say anything else. He’d made it through the first test, somehow. Just in time, too, he thought, making a beeline towards the bathroom. Because I really fucking need to -

“NTSHH!” Mark stifled a near-silent sneeze into his wrist as he yanked open the guest bathroom door. Finally, locked in the bathroom alone, he allowed himself to be as disgusting, as sick as he really was.

“Hhuh -! Hh- ETZSCH-ue! HRRSHH-ue! Huh… hh’RRSHH-ue!” Mark collapsed in on himself, scrambling to collect a handful of tissues so he wouldn’t ruin the sleeve of his suit. He blew his nose as thoroughly as he could – not that it made any difference, he was still stuffed up to the gills. A pathetic little cough escaped his lungs, prompting another tickle in his sinuses. “HUHTTSCHH-ue!”

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chastised himself, blowing his nose again. He’s going to fucking hear you.

He waited a moment or two to see if Elijah would push through the door – he didn’t – before sitting fully clothed on the toilet and pulling out his phone.

11:56AM

Mark

what is this, the fucking plague?

Almost immediately, Matt texted back.

11:57AM Matt

o shit, did we get you already? baby im so sorry. u shouldve told me u weren’t feeling good last night u couldve stayed over

11:57AM Mark

not your fault. and I’m ok, just trying to avoid Elijah, he’s gonna be so pissed.

11:59AM

Matt

omfg he’ll get over it. its not like someone in that restaurant isnt sick every other week

Mark sighed, his lungs crackling at the effort. Matt was right; someone was almost always sick at Elliot’s, that was the way of things in this industry. They all shared drinks, they worked in close quarters, it was bound to happen. This was less about the illness itself – of course he’d been sick at work before, who hadn’t? - and more about the look he knew he’d see on Elijah’s face when he’d finally have to crack. He’d gone directly against his boss’s orders, had put his job and the restaurant second to his baser desires. That’s no way to get ahead in this world, his dad’s voice bellowed from the base of his brain. Mark shuddered; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to face Elijah’s look of pure disappointment. He wasn’t sure he had it in him.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Mark stood and washed his hands. He took an inventory of his face in the mirror – eye bags poorly covered by drugstore makeup, his nose raw and red, his mouth slightly open to allow him to breathe – and realized how truly awful he looked. Was there even a chance that Elijah didn’t know he was sick? Doubtful, his dad’s voice muttered.

You have to just try, another voice in his head pleaded. Just push through, you know how to push through. You’ve done it a million times before. He doesn’t have to know.

That voice, Mark knew, was delusional – a child’s gnawing plea to be accepted, to not get in trouble, to not be thought of as a burden – but he knew that sometimes you had to be delusional, had to listen to the saddest, smallest part of yourself to get through a day. He pulled his phone back out before leaving the bathroom.

12:04PM

Mark

just please don’t say anything to Elijah when you get here, ok? I’m fine, I promise. its honestly probably just in my head, it’s probably nothing so just don’t say anything. see u soon.

Pathetic, his dad’s voice spat, and Mark knew the voice was right. But that was nothing new, nothing to dwell on; he’d always been pathetic. Mark switched off his phone then, not wanting to be comforted by his boyfriend, and stepped onto the floor.

***

“Mark,” Matt said, reaching up to touch the front of house manager’s forehead, “you really need to go.”

Mark pulled away before Matt could touch him, though not by choice. “HRRSHH-uhh! Hh-! HhNTZSHH-ue! Snrrf. Leave mbe alone.”

Matt’s hand recoiled at the ice in his boyfriend’s voice, obviously hurt. Normally, Mark would’ve nearly fallen to his knees at the thought of hurting Matt’s feelings, but today, with the cold from hell progressing quicker than he ever could’ve anticipated, he couldn’t even find it in himself to apologize. Obviously he needed to go, but that would mean admitting to illness; it would mean begin taken off the floor until god-knows-when. It would mean Elijah replacing him.

No. He wasn’t about to go.

“Honey,” Matt said carefully, touching Mark’s hand across the expo board, “I’mb sure Elijah would understand. It’s a slow ndight, he already sent Greyson back home. What are you trying to prove?”

Of course, Matt was right; last night’s crazy shift was in stark contrast to this evening’s steady pace. There were hardly twenty more covers for the evening, and yes, even Greyson had admitted defeat and slunk out right at six p.m., in a fevered haze. The only reason Matt was still here was because his fever had broken this morning and, despite the lingering cough and stuffy nose, he was clearly feeling better. Good enough, even, to have gone behind Mark’s back and talked to Elijah.

“Matt told me,” Elijah had cornered him right before preshift started, in the back server station while everyone else ate family meal. Mark felt his stomach sink. Fucking Matt, he thought, clearing his throat to address his boss in the most normal voice he could muster.

“Told you what?” he asked, straightening his tie. Elijah gave the younger manager a knowing look.

“You don’t look like you feel well, Mark,” he said, obviously trying a different tactic. This time, Mark’s stomach knotted; he felt, for a moment, like a little kid, wanting to fall to the ground in front of his mommy and just allow himself to be comforted. He thought for a fleeting moment of how good it would feel to just admit it; I’m sick, he would say, if he were a normal fucking person, I want to go to bed.

Instead, Mark shook his head. “I don’t kndow what Matt told you, but he doesn’t kndow what he talking about,” he managed, his voice cutting out only once. “I’mb fine.”

Elijah sighed. “Mark, listen, I know I was an asshole yesterday -”

“Boss,” Mark cut Elijah off. “Please. I’mb okay. Just please, let mbe work.”

He’d walked away then, hadn’t let Elijah say whatever it was he wanted to say, and had avoided Matt as well as he could throughout service. Now, mid-shift, when all the cooks and servers were side-eyeing them from he expo board, was not the time to hash this out.

“I’mb ndot trying to prove anything, Matt,” Mark said now, grabbing two plates from the window. “Just stay out of mby business. What table?”

Matt bit his cheek, peaked at the chit. “Please don’t be mbad,” he said, voice quiet. Mark prickled; he couldn’t help it. He was mad. He’d asked one stupid thing of Matt, and now here he was, career in trouble, embarrassed in front of both of their staffs, and once again gearing up for another painful -

“HTTSHH-ue! God, fugck,” Mark swore, ducking expertly away from the plates he was holding. He sucked in through his nose hard enough to make himself dizzy, and looked back at Matt. “What table, Chef?” he asked, pointedly. Matt winced.

“Thirty-three,” he said finally. Mark nodded.

“Great. Thangks.” He turned on his heels and pushed out the kitchen doors.

***

Before it happened, Mark found himself thinking exactly what his boyfriend was moaning the night previous: I’m gonna pass out, I know I am.

The only difference was, Mark was correct.

He’d been feeling shittier and shittier as the night went on. It began with spells of dizziness that came anytime he moved his head too fast, then moved on to an ache in his chest every time he coughed. A cold is one thing, he remembered Elijah saying the night previous. Whatever they have is entirely something else.

Elijah the prophet.

He kept pushing through. Plate after plate came out of the kitchen on his aching arms; he shook drinks while coughing into his shoulder, and sniffled his way through seating guests. Mark could feel Elijah’s eyes on him, though his boss refused to speak to him throughout the shift. I’ll show him, his fever-addled mind kept saying. I can do this. I’m fine.

It wasn’t until the last table had sat that his body well and truly told him he’d had enough. Mark was seeing stars when he grabbed a filet and swordfish, and once again he ignored it. He ignored the room swimming before him as he pushed out of the kitchen. He ignored the sway in his step.

“Shit, Mark!” was the last thing he heard, standing in the middle of the dining room with hot plates in each of his hands. There was no way to tell who said it – Elijah? Matt? – but it didn’t really matter, because before he could respond, his vision became a tiny pinkprick, his knees buckled, and the lights went out.

***

When the world came back into focus, he had somehow teleported into his bed.

At first, Mark tried desperately to get up; he’d fallen in the middle of the restaurant, that he unfortunately remembered immediately. There had been people around, guests watching, and he immediately felt his face flame with embarrassment. Oh, Elijah is going to kill me.

That was when he realized he was no longer in the restaurant. Mark placed a hand over an aching eye; was it all a dream? He looked down – no, it couldn’t be. He was still in his tailored suit, the tie and ciff links missing, but otherwise dressed to the nines.

“Whoa there, kid,” a familiar voice came from the doorway. “Go ahead and lie back down.”

Mark blearily glanced towards the voice. There, just outside his bedroom, stood Elijah, a steaming cup in one hand and a thermometer in the other. Fuck.

“Shit, Elijah, I’mb so sorry I ca – HTSHH-ue! HRRSHH-ue! Fuck, ’scuse mbe,” Mark, any facade of health finally washed away, used his expensive suit jacket to wipe his nose. Elijah glided across the small room and sat on the foot of the bed, handing the younger man the cup. Tea.

“Save your breath,” Elijah said. “You already apologized about a hundred times at the restaurant.”

He had? Mark gave Elijah a confused look, and sat back on the pillows behind him. He hadn’t even realized he’d come to at the restaurant at all.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah said, nodding. “To me. To Matt. To the guests. To the EMTs. I would think you’d be apologized out.”

EMTs? Mark cringed; as if he hadn’t been embarrassed enough. He wanted to ask, but at the same time he figured it was probably better that he didn’t remember. Small mercies, he thought.

“Lij,” Mark croaked, taking a sip of the tea, “I really amb… sorry. I mbean, I can’t imagine how mbuch I embarrassed you. Thangk you for bringing mbe home… I understand if you can’t…let mbe, uh. Work there. Anymore.”

Mark, destroyed by fever, and aches, and what was probably some sort of bronchitis-sinus-infection super-fucking-hybrid, couldn’t help but let the angry, ashamed tears fall as he said it. Matt wasn’t here, which most likely meant he was out both a boyfriend and a job. You fucking idiot. You stupid, fucking idiot, how dumb could you -

Elijah broke through the screaming in his head – he took Mark’s arms in his hands, placed his cup on the side table, and pulled him in for a hug. “Mark,” his boss said, “you really had us worried.” He pulled the younger manager back, concern painted on his face. “Of course you aren’t fired, I don’t know why you’d think that of me,” he said, a moment so raw that Mark felt like he’d been sucker-punched. “You should’ve just told me you were so sick. So you could go and rest. I would’ve even let Matt go with you.” Elijah patted his knee then, and handed Mark back the mug. “It’s just a restaurant, Mark. You’re more important than service.”

Mark felt his eyes well up once again. Had anyone ever told him he was worth more than the work he did? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure, and that felt like an even harder gut-punch.

“I just…” he managed, wiping beneath his eyes. “I just didn’t wandt you to replace mbe. I’mb sorry for letting Mbatt get mbe sick.”

At this, Elijah actually laughed. “Mark,” he said, “you’re young. You’re in love; it comes with the territory. I was annoyed because Greyson and Matt are constantly getting everyone in that restaurant sick. I wasn’t trying to attack you.” He smiled then, a small and slightly sad smile. “I’m sorry if that’s how to came off.”

Mark didn’t know what to say; he felt awful, like he’d been hit by a semi, and he just wanted to sleep. See Matt. Apologize for being a dick. And sleep.

“Is Mbatt mad at mbe?” he croaked, pulling his legs into his chest. This time, Elijah actually laughed.

“I don’t think Matt knows how to be mad at you,” he said. “He’s just closing up the line; he was actually the one who brought you back here, but you were racked out so I said I’d come keep an eye on you till he got back.” Elijah shrugged, gave a little knowing smile. “He’ll be back soon. Okay? We don’t have to talk any more about this now. Just… try to sleep.” He patted Mark’s shoulder; a fatherly gesture from a man who claimed to know nothing about being a parent. “I’ll call Matt.”

Finally, finally, Mark conceded. He wanted to thank Elijah, or maybe apologize again, but he couldn’t make his mouth form words. Instead, he just nodded, grateful, and sank back into his pillow. He felt his eyes close, and allowed himself, for once, to let someone else take care of him.

He knew, maybe for the first time in his life, that he was safe.

[sirjaketkiszka]

Josh Kiszka One Shot: Welcome Home

Josh comes home from tour. You want to make sure he’s taken care of.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Josh x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,815

Warnings: 18+!!, sexual content, unprotected sex, oral m!receiving, use of the pet name “baby,” somewhat sub!josh, cursing, dirty talk, and, of course, mediocre writing.

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Josh is finally coming back from the first leg of tour, and I’ve been waiting patiently for him to return home. My body grows more anxious each time I check the clock; one more minute. He should be here any minute.

The second I hear a key jingling in the front door, I shoot up from my seated position on the couch. Rushing over to the door, I see Josh cross the threshold, and I wrap my arms around his neck in an instant. An oof sound exits his throat with an exhale.

“Missed me?” He asks, chuckling.

“You have no idea,” I respond, my voice muffled in the crook of his neck.

“I missed you, too,” He says, dropping his bags on either side of him and wrapping his arms around my waist while nuzzling his face into the side of my neck. He uses his foot to kick the door closed behind him, rocking us back and forth to step deeper into the house. His embrace is firm and comforting, his fingers grasping at the soft material of my shirt.

He pulls his head away, his hold still around my waist and his eyes meeting mine, “What have you been up to?”

“Waiting for you,” I smile, taking in his beautiful features, “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know, on tour with my brothers,” He jokes, “And waiting to come home to you.” He leans in and kisses the tip of my nose.

“Well,” I begin, planting a quick, but firm, peck on his lips, “I’m happy you’re here.” My voice becomes suggestively low.

“Oh yeah?” His lips form a knowing smirk and his eyes darkening slightly.

“Mhm,” I lean in again, my lips landing softly on his. My eyes flutter close when he leans in as well, pushing back to deepen the kiss. We both hum in satisfaction when the kiss grows more heated, the pace picking up quickly. His plump lips feel soft against mine, moving fluidly and more hungrily.

He begins stepping forward, causing me to step backward into the living room, where I sat just seconds ago. Our lips move effortlessly, our kiss unbreaking when I feel the back of my knees hit the couch.

Before he can nudge me to sit down, I swiftly spin us around and unwrap my arms from his neck. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I gently push him, breaking our kiss and making him sit down. He looks up at me, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes wide. His lips are parted slightly, watching me as I step to sit on his lap, my legs kneeling on either side of his hips, straddling him.

His hands immediately find my hips, his fingers sinking effortlessly into the soft flesh. When I settle down on his lap, my hands rest on the back of the couch on either side of him, making him tilt his head back to look up at me. His eyes remain on my lips when I lean back in, resuming our kiss.

He moans softly when I swipe my tongue on his bottom lip, causing his lips to part just enough. When our tongues touch, the taste of him floods my senses. He tastes of mint gum and cinnamon whiskey.

We both breathe heavily through our noses, the heat of the kiss causing me to grind my hips on him. A small noise of surprise catches in my throat when I feel his erection in between my legs. He groans softly at the movement, encouraging me to continue.

Remaining at a steady pace, I break our kiss and lower my attention to his jawline. Peppering gentle kisses along the edge, I stop just below his ear, sucking lightly on the hot skin. A quiet sigh escapes his parted lips, his eyes closing in contentment.

One of my hands leaves the back of the couch and comes between us. Halting my hips, I continue to place tender kisses along his neck and jawline. Unmoved by my stopping, his breathless pants cascade down the side of my face. Continuing to move my now-free hand, I rest it on top of his growing erection and I can feel him straining in his jeans, begging to be released.

Firmly caressing him through his pants, needy groans begin to build in the back of his throat. “Can I?” I ask, lips still on his neck, my hand coming to a stop to rest on the button of his jeans.

“Yes,” He says, out of breath, nodding fervently.

I smile against his skin, my other hand coming down to assist in unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. When I unzip them, I hook my hands into the bottom hem of his t-shirt, tugging it up. He gets the hint and lifts his arms from my hips, allowing me to pull the shirt over his head and throwing it elsewhere.

Leaning back in, my lips scatter sloppy kisses along his exposed collarbone. One of my hands comes back up to rest on the back of the couch behind him while the other fumbles with his boxers. Pulling down the waistband of his boxers, I lower my hand into them, finding his erection and firmly grasping it.

He chokes back a surprised moan when I pull his cock out of its restraints and nip at the sensitive skin on his collarbone simultaneously. His hands desperately grasp at my hips once more, needing to ground himself. “Do you like it when I touch you?” I ask innocently, my lips grazing his bare shoulder now.

“Yes,” He swallows thickly, his voice a little shaky, “I do.”

“Good,” I mumble against his soft skin, placing a kiss on his shoulder and beginning to stroke his cock. He doesn’t hold back his moan, the melodic sound filling my ears and encouraging me to work faster. My hand moves at a steady pace with my thumb occasionally brushing his sensitive tip, spreading the leaking precum.

A consistent string of whines and whimpers brush past his lips, the grip on my hips growing tighter. I pick up the speed of my hand, and notice Josh’s hips nudging upward. I’m still placing messy, wet kisses along his shoulder, neck, and collarbones when he lets out a sharp exhale, “Can I touch you?” he finally speaks.

“Not now, baby,” I whisper against his neck, “You work so hard– let me take care of you.” I say, biting his neck and earning a whimper from him.

With that, I pull away from him, my hand letting go of his erection. Pouting, his eyebrows scrunching in worry and his lips are plump from biting them. I smile at the state of him; his cheeks a dark shade of pink, his eyes shining with anticipation, and his jaw slightly agape.

Without saying a word, he watches curiously as I step off of him and sink to my knees, my hands sliding down the curves and divots of his body in the process. Leaning back on the heels of my feet, I settle down between his legs, the tip of his cock resting just below his belly button.

My eyes don’t leave his while one of my hands comes up and grasps his shaft, my fingers firmly curling around the silk skin. The other hand, however, rests on his hip as support. He looks down at me with eager eyes when I lean forward slightly, tilting his cock to the side a bit and kissing along the length of his shaft.

His breath hitches in his throat and his hips involuntarily move upward, causing his cock to grind into my hand. My eyes are fixed on his face as I watch him bite his lip, his eyes bouncing between my lips and my eyes.

Moving up his shaft with tender kisses, I place an open-mouthed kiss on his tip, licking the precum off of my lips and humming in response. His chest rises and falls in deep breaths as he watches me move from his erection to his v-line.

Curious eyes observe as I press a firm kiss to the definitive outline, a choked moan exiting his mouth. “That feels so good,” He whispers in surprise, a little shy.

Doing it again, I move to the other side this time, my hand still gripping his erection. His hips writhe beneath me, his lower abdomen clenching with every movement. “You want more?” I ask, my eyes on his.

“Yes,” He answers, desperation lacing his tongue, “Please,” Smirking at his complicity, I bring my attention back to his throbbing cock and rest my lips on the tip, keeping my eyes on him. I open my mouth just enough to suck on the tip, swirling my tongue around the sensitive skin. “Oh, fuck,” He whines, throwing his head back.

Releasing him with an audible soft pop, he looks down at me urgently, “Keep your eyes on me,” I order, gently kissing the tip.

He nods while his hooded, lust-filled eyes follow my lips, taking him in my mouth again. His mouth falls slack, a whimper dangling between his lips. Instead of stopping at the tip, I push further down until I feel him twitch in the back of my throat. I hear whispered curses above me as I close my eyes, working up his cock, and pushing back down again.

“Your mouth feels so good,” He says, a whimper following closely behind.

I hum in response, sending a jolt of vibrations to his member, causing his hips to jerk and tip to press against the back of my throat. My eyes water at his reaction, however, I continue my pace on him, using my hand to stroke the rest of his shaft.

One of his hands, previously resting on his side, comes up to push the hair out of my face, his gaze fixed on my plump lips working his cock. “I’m getting close,” He moans out, his stomach clenching in response.

Taking that as my cue, I slowly lift my mouth off of his erection, making sure to swirl my tongue around his tip and suck harshly before pulling off completely. He gasps softly at the loss of contact, his hands bracing on either side of his thighs. His chest is heaving with small breaths filling and exiting his lungs.

“Why’d you stop?” He asks, his voice strained.

“I want to feel you come inside me,” I answer, swiftly pulling my shirt over my head and pulling the waistband of my pants and underwear down. With his jaw agape, excited eyes watch my body as I climb back on top of him, his hands instantly grasping at my hips again.

We both hold our breath in suspense while I grip his erection and glide it along my soaking slit. He lets out another small gasp at the sensation, my wetness spreading along his sensitive tip. I swipe the head of his cock a few more times, greedily circling my aching clit and letting the heat pool to my core.

We lock eyes as I line him up with my entrance, my free hand coming up to grip the couch cushion next to his head. Our eyebrows scrunch in pleasure when I sink down excruciatingly slow, allowing his tip to stretch me out. With each inch that follows after, I release his shaft and rest my hand on the other side of his head.

Finally, when he’s fully seated inside of me, a shaky sigh escapes both of our lips. Staying still for a moment, I allow myself to adjust to the feeling of being full. When his grip on my hips tightens for a second, I know he’s silently begging me to do something.

Lifting my hips, I feel his tip at my entrance again, and I sink back down. I let my moans freely pass with each breath as his moans mimic mine with his head tilted back, watching my face as I ride him. I move up and down slowly, reveling in his squirming and needy sighs.

“You feel so good, baby,” I praise as I lean forward, my lips grazing his earlobe, “You fill me up so well,” I whisper, earning a groan in response.

Feeling his fingers sink into my tender skin, he urges me to go faster. Removing my hands from the couch cushions and placing them on top of his, I loosen his grip, “Tell me what you want,” I nip his earlobe, “Use your words.”

“Faster,” He strains, and I feel his abs flex beneath me, “Please,” He begs.

“Yeah?” I tease, “How fast do you want it?” I ask, picking up the speed by only a little.

“More,” He whines, and I pull my head back to look down at him.

“How’s this?” I go a bit faster, the speed causing me to moan between words. “Is this fast enough?”

“Yes,” He gasps, “God, yes,” His head falls back again, his eyes closing.

“Eyes on me,” I tighten my grip on his hands, catching his attention, “This feels so good, Josh– You feel so fucking good.” I gasp out, praising him.

He moans at my words, his eyebrows knitting in concentration and jaw falling slack again to allow whimpers to fill the space around us. Heavy pants exhale from my lungs, my chest heaving and my hips growing tired. I feel my climax nearing, but I push aside the feeling.

“Do I make you feel good?” I ask, breathless.

“So good,” He whimpers, his voice small and whiny.

“You make me feel so good, Josh,” I reply, tired grunts pushing past my lips.

“Oh god, I’m gonna come,” He chokes out, “Fuck, I’m so close!”

“That’s right, Josh,” I continue to encourage him through exasperated groans and clenched teeth, “Let me feel you.”

“Shit!” He throws his head back as I keep my relentless pace, his cock twitching inside me, causing heat to pool in my cunt. “Oh my God, oh my God,” He quietly chants, whining under heavy breaths.

His cock spasms, brushing against my g-spot, bringing me close to my peak. I watch as his mouth hangs open to let out a string of exhausted cries, his abs jerking with every shot of cum inside of me.

Even with his orgasm subsiding, I continue to thrust onto him, chasing my own release and milking his. Strained whimpers dance on the tip of his tongue, his head finally rising to look at me again. His eyes frantically examine my face, my body, and my cunt riding him, his release leaking out of me and making a mess on his unbuttoned pants.

“I’m getting close, baby,” I tell him, his eyes holding mine in these final moments, “You just feel so good,” I lazily smile, “Makes me want to ride you forever.”

He whines in response, overstimulation overtaking his initial pleasure. “Please,” He begs, his hips uncontrollably trembling underneath me.

Nodding understandingly, I start picking up the pace as best as I can, bringing my climax to the edge. I remove my hands from him and grip the couch cushions behind his head, creating extra support. Resting my forehead onto his, we look deeply into each other’s eyes while I reach my orgasm.

“Oh God!” I cry out as my hips frantically sputter against him, my climax spreading like wildfire in my lower belly, causing my eyes to squeeze shut and mouth to open in an O shape.

“Shit!” Josh cries out as well, feeling my walls clench rapidly around his sensitive cock. My fingers desperately grasp at the couch cushions, my knuckles turning white from the forceful grip.

My pace slows gradually when my hips sputter from every swipe of my G-spot. Our breaths are shaky when I come to a complete stop, and we take a moment to catch them.

When the aftershocks of my orgasm diminish, I carefully lift myself off of him, causing a sigh of relief and exhaustion to leave us both.

“Hold on,” I tell him before he can move. Settling beside him on the couch, I grab a couple of tissues from the side table. I gently clean us both up and quickly get up to discard the tissues in the bathroom.

Before sitting back down, I put my underwear and pants back on, and Josh watches me with eyes full of endearment the entire time. I offer him a small smile and open arms when I settle back down beside him. He leans in, resting his head on my chest as I lean us both back to lay down.

With his head on my chest, I twist little curls in his hair and gently caress the side of his face. “I’m happy you’re home,” I break the silence, making him look up at me with a wide smile.

“Me too,” He responds, making me smile in return.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

First Josh one shot woohoo! I hope my Josh besties enjoyed it <3 Let me know if you’d like to see more Josh one shots— this was the only prewritten one I had, but I’m open to writing more!!

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Tags:

[writersblockiskillingme]

District 7 | Johanna Mason

Pairing: Johanna Mason x fem!reader (victor!reader)

Summary: Johanna and you seek some peace in District 7 after the rebellion.

Waning/s: angst and fluff, nightmares, talks about the games, tears, panic, curse words?, talks about Johanna's torture, rebellion, war, weapons (Johanna's ax), short fic, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I agree with you, dear anon. Lumberjack!johanna has me like 🙇‍♀️🧎‍♀️🤰 Also, I tried my best, hope you enjoy!

Request -> Hi :) Can I request a Johanna x fem!reader that takes place after all the events of the mockingjay? The reader is also a victor of her games and is now living in district 7 with Johanna. I want to see what their life is like after the games and rebellion. What they’re like taking care of each other after nightmares and triggering situations. Also because happy times good, what is domestic life like for them now (Like lumberjack!johanna oof 😮‍💨). Give me all the angst, all the sadness, all the domestic feels, and all the fluff!

You felt like the war will truly never end. It was suffocating from the very start. Especially during the quarter quell and after. Since the moment Katniss shot that arrow into the whole of the force field that destroyed the arena and the power knocked you unconscious, you had a bad feeling. The moment you woke up and Finnick told you that the Capitol captured Johanna and Peeta you felt like you couldn't breathe.

The physical and mental torture that your lover had suffered during her time in the Capitol undet Snow's clutches and the mental torture that you had to fight with in the safety of District 13 didn't make your time there any earlier.

You were quite literally lost without her by your side. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day that you spent worrying about her, whether she was being killed, whether she was in unbearable pain, whether she was even alive made your head spin from just remembering it. But the moment that Johanna was back in your eyes everything felt so much easier. Since she was finally rescheduled, for the first time ever, you felt like you could actually make it through this rebellion. But you didn't allow yourself to be filled with hope too much, yet.

At Snow's execution you were quite literally freezing while standing between Johanna and Haymitch, your eyes never leaving Snow that was placed a few feet in front of you as you tried to pull your jacket a little bit tighter around your body.

The air was still thick with loss caused by the death of Johanna's and yours mutual friend Finnick and every other person that you have lost throughout the many years of Snow's tortures ruling of the Panem.

Shock ruled over your entire body as you watched Katniss fire the arrow that nested itself inside of Coin's heart. As she fell down, people all around you stepped forward to kill Snow. Both of the rulers were dead. At last there will be peace in the whole Panem.

The peace that you decided to chase with the love of your life. Her hand tightly placed into yours as you said your goodbyes to the rest of the poor, tortured souls that somehow survived against all odds.

The first step onto the train that would send you both to District 7 felt like freedom. The silent breeze that cherished your cheeks and hair as you walked towards Johanna's house, hand in hand with her, the smell of the lumber in the air was a sign that you could perhaps find peace with the one you fought so hard for.

District 7 was good for you. It was different from your old home, for sure, but it was a good change. A change that your hears, soul and your spirit in general needed to live. During the day, when your therapists didn't visit or when you didn't have to visit them in the Capitol, Johanna and you would take calming strolls along the woods of her District, the smell of lumber became familiar. A sent without which you would probably, quite literally die, felt like peace. The word that both Johanna and you continued to chase endlessly.

But it wasn't easy.

The nightmares were overwhelming most of the time. Both of you would wake up in a cold sweat, practically screaming yourselves awake. Tears and panic was endless, but the presence of each other brought a great comfort to both of you.

One time you were laying in Johanna's and yours bed, molded into the sheets and pillows that were practically drowning you, hiding you from the world, as you tried to chase the sleep that you didn't get last night because of Johanna's nightmare. It didn't matter, though. As long as she was safe nothing else to you mattered. Just as you fell asleep, the nightmares from your own games started to drag you in.

The cold sweat covered your skin as you screamed yourself awake. Your breathing was heavy, you couldn't control it. Your hand reached over to Johanna's side of the bed feeling the cold grace your fingertips and you felt like someone spilled a bucket of freezing cold water over your head.

"Johanna!" A scream broke free from your throat as you dashed out of the bed in a lightning speed, trying to reach the door of the house to go outside.

You were forcefully put into a panicked frenzy as you practically broke down the door of the house, your head turning around in every possible direction. You were trying to find her.

And there she was. An ax in the hand, standing a few feet away from the house as she chopped the wood, the pile of lumber growing bigger and bigger with each swing. Her arms flexing as she was lightly covered in sweat from the hard work. Her eyebrows frowned in concentration. Her gorgeous pair of crystals looked at you in confusion and light concern as she watched your panicked expression.

"You good, dummy?" She asked you as she struck her ax into the wood before whipping away the sweat that glued her freshly grown bangs against her forehead.

"I just..." You sighed in relief once again as you watched her. "I just had a nightmare and you weren't there when I woke up, but it's okay."

Johanna quickly brought you into her arms, wrapping you up in their safety as she whispered sweet nothings into your ear in a desperate attempt to calm you down.

"It's okay. You're okay. I'm okay."

"You're okay." You breathed out once more following her lead.

She separated herself from you for a moment before she brought you in for a delicate kiss that was oh so her.

"We're okay. We will be." She whispered against your lips, her arms never leaving once she wrapped them around your neck.

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[knizuu]

ITS AUTOCORRECT ISTG [iugh i wanna harm my tablet]/silly

BAAWHAHWHAHWHAHHWJEDHAEFWNGRNSFDJGVHRIWJOPSHAVOJIWRGWBJBHONSFJFGHUOADHIPGR/positive

giant Google Doc filled with oneshots that I've never posted (except for a few in the discord server). Most were written late at night, but then again, most of the dp chapters also were. Yayyy

https://docs.google.com/document/d/19tInFsvxolTM6b5T5dCyf5Lt6pkdg0OxWGlelCNEaWI/edit?usp=drivesdk

[ghostmaldo]

˚☽˚｡⋆𓃦 ˚☽˚｡⋆ Jack Howl xGN!Reader —> Early mornings ˚☽˚｡⋆𓃦 ˚☽˚｡⋆

I kiiinda made this up as I went along if you cant tell oof. Ask box is open ^^ Enjoy. Theres probably spelling and grammar errors *Shrugs*

Slight warning: Mention of scars from a natural accident in childhood . Yes this actually happened to me. I have two little ones on my upper arm-

Ask box it always opened^^

Fluff

Playlist listened to during writing process: https://youtu.be/Yl8QnLRUDfE?si=MZZmCvgKiTy8_4zj

~Maldo

Golden rays of light begin to peek out from the dark crevices of savanna claw’s wheat colored fields. A soft comfortable breeze shifting through the reddened dirt piles. One white haired wolf stood in a little work out area of his own, just aways from his dorm room. He was drenched in sweat, panting heavily as he finished some of his final cool down sets. His gaze wavered a bit when he caught movement out of the corner of his similarly golden eyes. Presuming it was Ruggie come to complain to him about one of Leona’s antics. He was pleasantly surprised to find the familiar face of the Ramshackle Prefect walking towards him. Jack’s tail began to excitingly propel back and forth despite his face remaining in a neutral state.

(Y/N) waved excitedly, beaming a wide smile at him. Their cheeks were a little flush from the heat already beating down on them… and probably from their ever beating heart. They clutched the lunch bento close to them as they approached Jack’s small domain. They considered each other good enough friends after all they’ve been through together… Though to everyone’s else’s dismay the two were constantly and knowingly dancing around their painfully obvious feelings for the other. Ah well… what was someone to go beside watch in amusement until someone cracked.

“Good morning Jack.” They greeted sweetly. Jack nodded, a bit too eagerly at first but he realized the motion too late. A polite, “Morning,” came in response. He gingerly placed his weights onto the dirt, moving to have a seat near the base of tree providing plenty of shade. Jack motioned for them to come sit beside them, which they gladly took the invitation. Now cozy next to Jack, (Y/N) offered the bento box to him, holding it out in front of them for him to take. He peered at it blankly for a moment, his head tilting to the side in question.

“For you. Your probably hungry after all that running around.” They said with the same glee filled smile. He didnt say anything at first, but the eager wag of his tail told them everything they needed to know. And that was enough. He carefully reached out for the bento box, warmth radiating from the bottom of the box. Still warm and fresh… They must have gotten up early to make this… He thought to himself. If one were to take an x-ray of his heart, they’d find it melting eternally by such a caring gesture. Jack spent the next few minutes thanking them, then he opened the bento. Where he found an array of his favorite foods prepared nicely for him.

Jack devoured the meal in record time. Each bite was a refreshing wave to his exhausted belly. The pair engage in light conversation about things going on in their lives. Such as school work and spell drive games scheduled for the upcoming weeks. It was nice to catch up with him.

A moment of comfortable silence fell between them. Before too long, (Y/N) sensed Jack's bright eyes attentively staring at them… and they were correct in their assumptions. They meet the eyes of a concentrated Jack Howl. His eyes glued to somewhere they weren’t able to pinpoint by sight.

“J-Jack?”

He blinked, realizing he’d been starring Jack quickly averted his eyes. A slight blush formed on his cheeks. “Something wrong?” (Y/N) probed further. A bit of concern washing over their body posture. Jack abruptly shook his head, setting the bento box next to him and whipping his hands along his jeans as he cleared his throats. “Sorry, sorry, I was just… you… you have a scar on your hand-”

It was (Y/N) to blink twice raising one of their hands to the scar Jack was referring to. A thin line of discoloration along their knuckles. As soon as their hand was suspended in the air. Jack enveloped it with his own, examining the scar with keen eyes. It took everything for (Y/N) not to swoon directly into his arms.

“Its alright Jack, I fell in a rose bush when I was a kid. Lucky me I walked away almost unscaved. That’s the only scar I have from the incident.” They explained calmly. Enjoying every minute of Jack holding their palm.

“I see.��� He hummed warmly, a curious expression over taking him seemed to memorize the size, shape, everything about the small infliction. His tail casually wavering back and forth behind him. “It… must have hurt.” He finally stated. It was hard to have such a crush on a man who was so adorable… and not even on purpose!

“Only for a moment.” The replied simply.

Jack gave a final grunt of acknowledgement. Untangling his fingers from their hand. He reached over to his water bottle. Had his face become redder? Or was that from the work out? (Y/N) pondered silently, already missing the warmth of Jack's touch. They pressed their hands over their chest, fawning over the moment. Another comfortable silence fell between them. Basking in the peacefulness of quiet morning.

Eventually, the pair did have to journey back to the dorms. Giving Jack enough time to take a well earned shower and walk (Y/N) to their first class. As a thank you for breakfast. Nothing more! Or so he says as his tail swooshes happily behind him.

[ohmyenjolrass]

my review of epic: the musical by jorge rivera-herrans | part 2: the cyclops saga

if you are interested in part 1 (the troy saga), click here!

as always, this is my personal opinion, any other opinions are valid. english is not my first language, sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes.

without further ado, let's begin!

the cyclops saga: this chapter involves one of the most popular episodes in the odyssey, polyphemus's attack. at the end of the chapter, athena abandons odysseus for being 'just a man'. now, let's review the songs.

polyphemus: this one is my least favourite of this chapter BUT i still like it. odysseus's crew kill polyphemus's favourite sheep without knowing and he, obviously, gets angry. odysseus then tries to bargain with the cyclops so he doesn't kill his crew. i gotta say the VOCALS on this song are amazing. i swear my brain tingles everytime i listen to jorge's "my name is nobody, nobody". AAAAAA. it makes me go feral. it is a good song. overall, 7/10. survive: in this song, odysseus and his crew battle against the cyclops. the chorus makes me shiver everytime i hear it. and also the second verse (i think???), when it says "surround him", and the soldiers repeat it. OOF, SO GOOD. the ending is a bit sad because you know, death, but it is a very good song. 7.5/10. remember them: GREAT SONG. the beginning sends shivers down my spine. and the first time the music stops and odysseus says "remember them". WOW. i don't know why but this song gives me hamilton vibes???? the vocals and everything are so good, it is so catchy and i love the music so much. 8/10. my goodbye: i may be a little biased by this one because teagan earley's voice makes me wanna scream into the void. her VOCALS????? HELP. athena's character is one of my favourites so, of course, this one is my favourite song in the cyclops saga. any duet athena and odysseus sing is good, i don't make the rules. the difference between their choruses is so good, showing both their points of view. i just LOVE this song so much. also, at the end when the ensemble sings "just a man". WOW. and another thing, when odysseus sings "since you claim you're so much wiser / why's your life spent all alone / you're alone!". AMAZING DELIVERY. overall, this song, 8.5/10.

[odilelajolie]

just finished reading Savior oof can’t wait for the next update! the cliffhanger was cruel 🤣 i also read Hunted even though i haven’t watched Trap, such a bummer it’s not even showing in my place cinemas 😭

Ahhh I'm so happy you're liking my stories! Hell or high water Savior 7 is coming *this week*. Each time I go back to edit I've been finding more and more typos 😆, and I think it's because I got so into the smut I forgot about things like, you know...spelling and grammar LOL.

Thanks sooooo much for giving Hunted a try! I think Trap is going to be available to stream in a couple of days!

[insirisarts]

Origins of Olympus - Reimagined

Prologue

Hello! I have been working for a while now on a reimagined version of an old Minecraft series I used to watch. This is in no way me commenting on the writing or story of the original series, I was just inspired to see how I could write it based on what we were given in the original. Also, if you see any way that I can improve my writing, or any grammar/spelling mistakes please let me know!

Please watch the original Origins of Olympus series, while this story does make major changes; the series made by the Origins MCRP crew is important to understanding the Reimagining, and it's good to support the original material if you can. It's free on YouTube with multiple perspectives.

Prologue:

In this world, we have been left behind by the gods. After the Twelve Olympians had defeated the titans and locked them away in Tartarus; they had returned to the acropolis upon Olympus. However, not before spreading their influence far and wide. Now their children reside to continue their legacy, fighting through trials of life and death in order to prove themselves in this harsh, new world filled with monsters and beasts alike. But now we focus on a select few children of these gods, whose story will tell the tale of both the greatest joys and the deepest sorrows. A story that has only just begun.

————————————————————————

'Delphyne is the name given, by some accounts, to the monstrous serpent killed by Apollo. She was my mother…’

A woman slithers past the cabins in the sacred oasis, making sure every one of them is properly cleaned. She checked every bed to be certain that the sheets and duvets were changed, and the drawers and closets were empty. Assured herself that all weapon stands were in perfect display condition. That each building was fit for the soon arriving children of the gods. The egos of the gods were sure to have passed on, and they would not accept anything less but the best.

Leaving the final cabin, satisfied with the cleanliness of the structures, she moved on. Gazing upon the lush plants surrounding the path, she took in the light atmosphere of the moon-lit area. Bright green grass, blooming flowers, well maintained bushes, and towering trees. She allowed herself to smile slightly, accepting the small moment of peace.

‘She wasn’t as vile as the story's make her out to be… she was only doing as she felt necessary to protect the Oracle of Delphi.’

Next was the mess hall and checking that it was suitably supplied with food and drink for the upcoming months. Inside the storage area of the building, were massive piles of the freshest meat and produce. Nectar and ambrosia, well-aged, lined the walls. It was more than plenty for the summer.

‘Despite all of her valiant attempts, she failed. Regardless of it all, her death doesn't pain me… and I do not ask for pity; I’ve had time to overcome my grief, and her legacy reigns on. That’s why I’m here. After her death, I had taken the Oracle to The Oasis of Demeter, a camp of sorts for the children of the gods to earn their worth. I, more so, see it as a sanctuary.’

Finally, she looked over the Oracle's abode, the house protecting the sacred being. It was her job to make sure they never got hurt.

‘And I plan to keep it, and you, safe.’

————————————————————————

“C’mon!” Came a shout in the dark, thundering hoofsteps following closely behind, the loud screeching of an axe echoing hauntingly in the clustered forest. The minotaur was hot on his steed's heels, making the poor horse panic. A cliff came into view and the animal had come to a sudden stop, sending its master flying into the rocks and moist dirt below. A shrill whine reverberated from the animal as it sprinted away. 

“Woh-woh-woh-woh!” exclaimed the ashen man, landing harshly with an “OOF!”. “Shadow! Shadow!” He cried, now covered in scrapes and patches of dark mud. A monstrous cry echoed from the cliff followed by the harsh thuds of what could only be assumed as fallen trees. The man had no time to collect himself before getting up and back into a sprint. The sounds of hooves squelching in the mud only made the man run faster to escape. Wishing that he had waited until morning to make his expedition.

Short on breath, he quickly took shelter behind a tree. Quietly he prayed to his godly father that the monster wouldn't find him. Slowly building his courage, he peaked around to aim his bow at the beast; he knew that his archery was nowhere near the skill of his father and siblings, but he was desperate. He took a slow steady breath, preparing to take aim… only for the monster to suddenly burst into flames. Confused, the man leaves his hiding spot and looks around, dropping the bow to a resting position. 

“Well…” he breathed. “Let’s hope that was you dad…” He mumbled to himself, cautiously walking away from the scene, he had a horse to find and a place to be after all.

————————————————————————

Arrows could be heard flying, followed by two pairs of feet running in the opposite direction. A man dressed in black, white and yellow sprinted past the surrounding monsters, sustaining minor injuries from attacks. A woman with hoven feet and horns turned to their adversaries and returned fire, trying her best to prevent any more harm to the other. As they made more and more distance between themselves and the beasts, the woman ushered the other to follow her. As grass bled into sand the pair took a small break, they finally lost their pursuers. There was still a lot of distance to cover to where they were going, but they had time as it was hardly noon. Snacking on their rations, they continued onward into the endless desert, keeping their eyes open for the gateway defended by towering statues.

————————————————————————

A young man rises from the estuary that connects the desert to the nearby gulf. His blue and brown eyes stare in amazement at the towering statues that guard the gate of the camp; lit overhead by the high-noon sun. Aquatic life all around him began to announce his presence. Offering a soft smile of appreciation, the man leaves the water. Sand sticks to his wet leg armor and skin, creating a dry grainy texture that itches, but it hardly distracts him from the wondrous scene. Towering trees reach over the marble wall, framing the sky beautifully. If he was going to learn anything about himself, it would be here. He is sure of it.

————————————————————————

Slowly, the world came to him. A fog lifted from his head as he stretched his arms and back, opening his eyes to gaze at the great Helios’s sun. It seemed to be slightly past noon, a moment where the bright chariot would be illuminating all of the surrounding world with little areas of shade. Glancing out to the land, he took in the beauty of it all; The sea of grass flowing in the wind, sparse spots of tree cover, an accumulation of rolling hills and distant mountains bringing it all together. It was serene. So, so serene. He felt so light. The world was still so fuzzy. He almost became dead to it again. Eyes slipping closed to soak it all in once more…

…Hm, wasn’t he forgetting something?...

Suddenly, he shot into full consciousness. A spike of adrenaline washing away the groggy listlessness in his mind. “I’m late!” He exclaimed, scrambling to get his things in order. Strapping his once abandoned satchel onto his belt, storing his red and white dual-bladed sword and grabbing his most recent gift from the gods. A purple and green sword that came around into a hook; making a sort-of eye shape, vines with rose thorns, black detailing on the blade, and a large purple rose as the cross-guard. “Oh gods, I’m going to miss the meet up and the tour if I don’t hurry!” He fretted, rushing to the camp for young demi-gods.

Next chapter

Previous chapter

First chapter (you are here)

[poisonousmoonfics]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Speed of Shadows

Pairing: fem!oc x pietro maximoff

Universe: MCU, Avengers AOU

General warnings: mention of torture, abuse and death. Mental illnesses like anxiety and depression. subjects like resurrection and dark magic. angst but also aaa looooot of fluff

Disclaimer: This is a non-commercialized fanfiction. I do not owe any of the Marvel characters mentioned. The following story is a derivation from the original script, which was used for inspiration and adaptation purposes. All the rights of the original characters throughout the book (‘Lola Mendez’ and her family) are reserved.

Synopsis: Pietro leans forward on the medical table, staring intently at his lifeless body. "Can we trust that your powers won’t malfunction this time?" he questions, his voice tinged with distrust and fear for his soul.

Lola shifts uncomfortably, her confidence is hesitant. "No," she admits quietly, insecurity evident in her tone. Trying to mask her anxiety, she adds with a nervous laugh, "But what's the worst that could happen? You can’t die again."

Pietro doesn't laugh. He fixes her with an unfriendly look, his expression hard.

"Sorry," she apologizes, her cheeks flushing with shame.

or

Where the new super-speedster member of the team, Pietro, saves Lola from getting shot, so she decides to return the favor by putting her powers to the test.

Chapter I

A/N!!: hey people, sooo this is my first fanfic posted on Tumblr!!! (still working on it lol). I hope the synopsis catches your attention and you enjoy the published parts. I will appreciate likes, but mostly positive comments or constructive criticism (pls be kind haha). Btw this won't contain smut no matter what, I have nothing against it, I just don't feel comfortable writing it oof.

I’ll be notifying u guys every time I’ll be uploading a new chapter. You can also read the story on my Wattpad account! I’ll stitch the link below. Please, DO NOT REPOST OR ADAPT my story (here or in any other social media platform or ao3) without my permission. Although I don’t owe the rights of the Marvel characters, my OC and part of the plot are MY WORK.

Also, English is not my first language. I apologize in advance if you notice any grammar or spelling mistakes, I will edit the parts when I have the time.

My Wattpad profile: @/writtenbythemoon

[estrellami-1]

🥑🪲🧩

Questions from this list

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

Oof… probably @finntheehumaneater and @gloomysoup, my cheerleaders! ❤️ however I do know @doubledeckersofa irl and we 100% have a Pact. I’m helping her, no questions asked, and she’ll help me, no questions asked.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

As my current WIP is If I Should Stay, and I’m working on part 72 currently, I won’t be sharing anything as I don’t want to spoil anything. However I did just post We’ll Help You! Can that count? 😂

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

I try never to click away immediately, but my biggest pet peeve is lack of punctuation or paragraph breaks. That’s also usually indicative of bad grammar/spelling, and I’m sorry, but I’m a grammar nerd; no matter how good the storyline may be, if the grammar is terrible, I just can’t get into it.

[jetgirl1832]

20 Questions More

This is a deeper and more detailed version of the 20 questions for AO3 fanfic writers. @nottawriter hit me with a tag, I have been attacked lol.

1) How do you keep getting ideas for your ship / fandom? A dash of shower thoughts, with a pinch of I watched a movie and couldn't help but think... Yes, that will work. They often feel like the come from nowhere.

2) Which authors inspire you in your fandom, and why are they so freakishly good? That's not fair how dare you ask me this!!!! Uhhh I'm mostly reading Supercorp stuff these days sooo... @jazzfordshire, @mycatismyeditor, @fazedlight, @innamorament0, @scribblingpunk, @fyonahmacnally to name a few. AAAAND my co-author and a vast array of things @tomatopudding! Why? Idk, I just get drawn a lot to these works and think they're lovely, and I love their depictions of these characters I love.... with @tomatopudding we just vibe very well, sharing the same five brain cells helps.

3) Aside from the characters of your main ship, who are the characters you love to write? If we're talking Supergirl... That's so hard, but I might have to say Brainy and Nia if really pressed... and Alex. I really enjoy Alex.

Otherwise, my other faves include all of the Les Amis from Les Miserables (if you know you know), specifically Courfeyrac and Marius and their hilarious dynamic. Other faves include Eliza Schuyler-Hamilton, Eponine Thenardier and... This could go on for a very long time, are you sure you have time?

4) Are there pairings or tropes you know for sure you’d never write about? Which ones? Not putting Kara and Lena together just makes me sad... So Supercorp ftw all the way, they are my top (I am a lot more amenable in other fandoms I've written for)

Tropes... I'm unlikely to do Omega-verse, I haven't done it and I can't see myself starting even if I sometimes read it.

5) What is your writing process and why is it cursed?

When I worked in retail I wrote on stupid little scraps and probably lost about 75% of them. Sometimes the method is hand writing, and then typing and making edits during that process as well. The handwritten can vary drastically from the typed draft lol.

I tend to fly by the seat of my pants unless someone is keeping me in line. I'm pretty darn chaotic.

I doubt myself a lot, so I always think whatever I write is garbage no matter how much proof there is that's not true. Also, sometimes I get burnt out, or my muse dies and then I feel terrible. Yay.

6) What is your favorite part of your writing process? Falling down rabbit holes, looking into fun topics. Likely ending up on a government watch list for the stuff I've searched up over the years

7) What’s the weirdest thing you’ve had to research for a fic? Uhhh.... hmm. I have no idea what the weirdest is lol. Cause it's on my mind, probably looking up what types of wood are easiest to chop, and why. (There is definitely weirder, but I don't remember right now).

8) Is there a particular writing rule you struggle with (grammar, spelling, tense, reality in general)? Commas. They hate me, and I hate them.

9) What was your hardest scene to write so far and why? Oof. Uhhh... This is so hard! Honestly there is a lot of stuff in my co-written very long series Hamilton Family Album that was *a lot* between research and feels.

Especially when you're co-author hits you with unexpected feels out of nowhere that you weren't anticipating (YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID).

10) Have your characters ever done something you didn’t expect, changing your plot completely? Of course, they have. It happens all the time.

11) If you could converse with any of the characters, who would it be and why? Ohhh... Hands down Kara and Lena, I wish they could be my friends and we could hang out. Why? I think that they are absolutely incredible, wonderful and I could just sing their praises for ever.

12) What are some of the tropes or themes that you find yourself returning to in your writing? Oooo, I'm a sucker for fluffy romances, and I've been dabbling in smut recently. Other themes for me can be like found family is a really popular one for me.

Since I've written both a lot of Les Mis and Hamilton stuff (among other similar things) I've done a lot of "Modern AU's" as well, which are uhhh varied to say the least. If I can treat anything they way the treat most Shakespeare pieces these days I do it.

13) What’s your most important resource as a writer? Asking for help! Soundboarding with other writers, I love doing it. It helps me make sense of my ideas... Or decide they're maybe too out there (almost never lol)

14) Can you share some of your strategies for editing and revising your work? Reading it out loud, I have a hard time noticing errors otherwise. Asking someone you trust to look it over as well, take your time and double and triple check if you're unsure about something.

15) Which is worse: making the summary, picking the tags, or the anxiety when you post your fic? D. All of the Above

16) How do you define success for your fanfic - hits? Kudos? Comments? Bookmarks? Or just if you like it? I try to just write for myself, usually because I haven't seen something like it and think it should exist. I do really enjoy getting comments if only because I'm always curious to hear what readers think about my work.

17) Do you have a playlist for your favorite character / ship? I don't, and if I did it would be odd... I'm the most massive theater nerd. I do have songs that I think fit the vibes, and some shows I listen to have more apt things than others. Or if it's Les Mis it's the whole dang album lol.

Supercorp things if anyone is curious (and wondering how odd it could get): Mercury Rising from Lizzie, Come Home With Me, Anyway the Wind Blows, Wait for Me and Wedding Song from Hadestown, In A Crowd of Thousands from Anastasia, Origin of Love from Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Maybe I introduced you to something fun today.

18) If fan art was going to be made from your work, which fic would you pick and which fan artist would you like to create it? Oh dear... I don't know. The thing I'd love to see art for isn't up yet and I just think it would be fun but it will be called What Was I Made For... And we're gonna leave at that for now.

19) How many WIPs do you currently have? I'm finishing up You've Got New Followers (One chapter left!), I think three other WIP's (two more plotted than others) and my WIP for May-Hem... So five?

20) What’s your advice to new fanfic writers? Don't be afraid just because you've never done it before. That's why fanfic is amazing. You can do what you want and in reality no one can stop you, just make sure you're having fun.

My fics: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetGirl1832/works?page=1

Tagging but no pressure: @tomatopudding and @innamorament0

[themoon-saturn]

Wonderland

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fatui/Forest watcher gn! reader (fluff-angst) Suggestive and things are implied but not fully N$FW but still minors dni. Reader injury, If there is anything else I missed feel free to let me know!)

A/N: I tried angst for the first time oof. I thought about this one for a bit and finally did it but its a long one. I also had to edit it to actually post but everything is fine lol. I also have his name in my game as Ren so that's his name in this. The inspo was Wonderland by Taylor Swift. Not proof read as normal so please ignore any grammar or spelling issues. Love y'all and thank you for reading!

//Flashing lights and we Took a wrong turn and we Fell down a rabbit hole//

You were never scared of him, always finding ways to push his buttons but never far enough to be disposed of. You joined their ranks because of him truly, though you would never admit that, and worked your way up to be one of his most trusted confidants. Scaramouche enjoyed your company even though he never acted like it. You never took his snide words to heart and even fired some of your own back at him. You were incredibly smart, an excellent fighter, and had an energy that captivated him. “Sir, The rain will pick up soon.” your clothes already damp from the drizzle were annoying enough but Scara liked to see how far he can push you. “Can’t handle a little rain? You are supposed to be my second in command and you are scared of some water?” he smirked. “I just don’t want my clothes sticking to me, but I guess you do?” you retort. “You think that low of me? Are you actually that stupid?” you nod and continue on while he follows behind in a huff. You were to escort him to Sumaru city for reasons he wouldn’t say no matter how much you begged. He would rather you stay in the dark with this one at least for now, “There! That cave looks relatively safe.” You make it inside, “I’m gonna start a fire to help me dry off a bit. If someone had let me use their hat, maybe I wouldn't be drenched right now.” Scara rolled his eyes and sits on a nearby rock to watch the rainfall. “Ugh, I hate the forest.” You groan walking up to him in only your body suit as you bend down to start a fire. The way the tight one-piece hugs your figure perfectly causes Scara’s mind to wander but he quickly turns his attention back to the rain to calm himself. You were setting up the sleeping arrangements and you can feel Scara staring, “Sir? Is there a reason you are staring at me?” You tease, “ I wasn’t doing anything of the sort.” He turns away from you to hide his blush. You do enjoy having his attention, the tension had been building between you ever so slowly that it was bound to boil over. The teasing, the stolen glances, the personal space invading… you both were not subtle. “It’s all set up sir.” You call out as he makes his way over to you, “Always so efficient. Maybe you are worth keeping around.” He gave you a smug grin, you pushed his hat up and leaned toward him causing him to take a step backward. “Anything for you Sir Balladeer.” You laugh at his reaction only for him to grab your waist, catching you off guard. “You are an annoying thorn in my side. I could kill you, you know?” His voice drew you in like a spell. “I don’t think someone who finds me so annoying me so much would be holding me this close, hm?”, “Still as sharp and annoying as ever.” He says, pulling you towards him as your lips collided. It felt so new and exciting, your head was spinning. You both hit your breaking point, not able to get enough of each other and you hoped the storm raging outside would drown out the sounds from both of you. You fell asleep with Scara’s arm twisted around yours, thinking of the plan. His plan for godhood. The reason he is even here. He couldn’t hold back from you anymore and all he was hoping for was for you to follow him, for you to be his first disciple of the new god of Sumaru. He watches as you sleep so peacefully in his arms, kissing your temple. Soon enough the plan will be set in motion and nothing will stand in his way. He will be complete and you will be with him, side by side, forever.

//Didn't all feel new and exciting I felt your arms twisting around me I should have slept with one eye open at night//

The next morning you awoke to Scara next to you, still in his arms, confirming the activities of the night before. You lay still taking it all in and trying not to wake him but you feel him moving, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. “Good morning Sir Balladeer.” You say in a sing-song tone causing Scara to roll his eyes, “The day hasn’t even started and you are already frustrating me.” You watch as he stands to his feet and puts his clothes back on, “Frustrating? Hm seems I misunderstood your actions, Sir.” You laugh while dressing yourself as well. Scara lets out a huff of annoyance as he walks over to you, kissing you swiftly before you could even react. “I found a better way to shut you up is all. And from this point on… just call me Scara…” his voice changes from his usual snarky tone to something softer and more genuine as his finger traced down your arm to hold your hand. You softly nod, “Of course… Scara.” The days progressed normally as you made your way to Sumaru City though Scara was more touchy with you, he was holding on to your hand and was quick to pull you out of harms way but still kept his sarcastic tone when he spoke. You loved it though. Your nights were spent in each other's arms feeling like you were in a wonderland built just for you two. You were growing comfortable with this new side of him and Scara was equally as obsessed with the changes as well. Once you had arrived in the city you were greeted by some lower-ranked members with a bow, “ Welcome to Sumaru City Sir Balladeer. The Doctor has been expecting you.” You turn to Scara in confusion but his eyes are fixed ahead. The Doctor? What is he doing here? Once you see him, you bow immediately. “Greetings Scaramouche. Glad to see you made it here.” Scara's eyes shift from him to you before speaking, “Of course. Now y/n you are dismissed.” You nod and bow once more before exiting, finally able to breathe. You spend your time exploring the city while you wait for Scara’s return, the stares of the locals felt like they were burning a hole in you as you passed by. You didn’t care though, you still felt on top of the world. Maybe his aura rubbed off on you to give you this confidence because you felt above everyone, even the other Fatui soldiers, as you strolled in the city. One question still burned in your mind, why you had to bring him here? “There you are.” His voice whispers in your ear sending a chill down your spine. “Come. We can get something to eat before we go rest for the night.” You smile at him and follow. After dinner you both head to a room at an Inn in town, “They have a space for you, though you will be staying with me?” He gives you a smug smile. “Trying to put words in my mouth is quite rude don’t you think?” You match his energy and he moves to kiss you. You felt so in love, all the questions you were going to ask faded to the back of your mind. Scara loved the way his name fell from your lips and how beautiful you looked under him. He has been through betrayal after betrayal but you were different, like someone he couldn’t afford to lose. After another passionate night, you fell asleep next to him. He watched you for a while and planted small kisses on your forehead before he sat up, doing his best not to disturb you. “Scara? Where are you going?” Your tired voice made him stop in his tracks. “I have to meet Dottore. I will be back by the time you wake up.” He says still not looking at you. You sit up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, “Scara…? Is there something you aren’t telling me?” He was still silent for a moment before letting out a sigh, “There are things I can’t discuss right now. I’m sorry.” You gently place a kiss on the back of his neck where his electro mark is and let him go, “I understand. I will see you soon okay?” He can feel a shockwave through his body when he feels your lips on his neck. He doesn’t want to leave you but he stands and looks at you giving you a small smile, leaving you to sleep.

// But there were strangers watching

And whispers turned to talking

And talking turned to screams//

The night consisted of painful experiments all over again. Multiple testing and procedures had Scara screaming in pure agony. His only solace… the gnosis taken from the electro archon herself, his own mother. He would finally feel complete so he continued to endure the pain for many nights, hiding it all from you. You questioned him but he always told you not to worry. “All will be revealed soon,” he would say while squeezing your hand. You overheard the whispers for the other members about your closeness with the Balladeer, many watching you closely as you walked together but quickly looking away when Scara looked in their direction. He struck fear into the hearts of others but to you, he was sweet and gentle. Scara knew that he had fallen for you hard enough already but that love and devotion kept growing. He wanted to protect you from any harm and once his dream became a reality, he wouldn’t have to worry. He would dispose of anyone who tried to hurt you in any way. Some may call him obsessive but he was in love… you both were but he still had to fulfill his goal, all to be fully complete for you. Weeks had passed like this, but one morning you awoke and he wasn’t there. You waited and waited but he never came back and you tried not to worry, he was a harbinger and fully capable of handling things himself but that morning turned into a day and that day turned into multiple. You didn’t know where to look and it wasn’t like anyone would help you so all you could do was wait, until one night you were getting ready to sleep and you heard a voice in your head, “Y/n? Looking beautiful as ever I see?” You whip your head up to the door but he’s not there. You assume you had finally gone insane until you see him approaching you but it wasn’t him. He looked like a figment of your imagination, “ Scara? Is that you?” You cautiously stand up to face him with tears of worry in your eyes. Scara puts his hand to your face, “You are the first to see what we have been working on all these weeks my darling. I’m sure you have questions but this will all make sense soon enough.” His eyes look colder as he explains more, “I have never admitted this to you but I am not human. I was a puppet created by the Raiden Shogun herself… but she didn’t see me as useful and had cast me aside. I have had many turn their backs on me in the past but you, my darling y/n, never did. You showed me love and I don’t want to let that go. I love you. Y/n” You hovered your hand over his chest, “Oh Scaramouche… I love you. For someone who claims to not have a heart, I refuse to believe that. You are human to me Scara and the love you have shown me proves that.”

//I reached for you but you were gone I knew I had to go back home//

You looked into his eyes, expecting his soft gaze of affection like normal but it was still cold and almost… hollow. “Sumaru requires a new god. The Doctor has helped to achieve this goal and the people of Sumaru will bow to me and me alone. I will finally become what I was destined to be… I would like you to be my first disciple.” His tone shifted into something more sinister. You have heard how he commands his subordinates but this was different, he didn’t sound in his right mind. “Scara? What do you mean? Why would you even want to become a god? I don’t want to be another follower of yours, I’m your partner?” You asked plainly but he starts laughing. A strange laugh that shakes you to your core. “Are you that dense? This is my chance to get what is rightfully mine. This is what I deserve.” His anger began to spill over. Why did you look at him like that? “Scara you’re scaring me… This is too far don’t you think?” You try to reach for him but he looked at you in disgust. “You want to reach for me after thinking that I’m crazy? I thought you cared. You should be bowing to me.” He snapped as you tripped over your feet and fell to the floor. “ You said you loved me… Was all of that a lie?!” You yelled out with angry tears. He laughs again, “How stupid are you? You have been below me for years. You. obey. me.” You feel so small. Your expression turns from fear to disappointment and for a brief moment, Scara almost looks hurt. He leaves after that. You sit on the floor and cried for the rest of the night. You decided right then you were done with the Fatui, your heart was shattered into a million pieces and you didn’t want to stick around to see this mess unfold. You overheard some Fatui soldiers talking about the "Birth of a New God" in a factory under the city and you went to investigate. You had to face him again and get the truth from him. You sneak inside and look around until you hear the sound of his voice in a large room, “You finally arrived to witness the birth of a new god.” Without thinking you sprint forward, “Scara!” He pauses and sees you running up to him, “My darling y/n… did you change your mind? You will witness me take down the ones who stand in my way.” His voice sounds different entirely. You couldn’t even recognize him anymore. The Scaramouche you have known for years has gone insane with power. “Scara please… I don’t care about any of this I just want to be with you! I love you… Stop this before you get hurt!” You looked back on your new love affair, and how you got caught up in this whirlwind romance that you were oblivious to all the warning signs. You reached out to him, “I don’t need those who betray me. I wanted to be whole and fulfill my destiny with you by my side, but I see you have made your choice.” He says so coldly, knocking you aside with lightning. You scream in pain and the blonde-haired outlander runs to your aid only to be stopped by Scara. “Sir Balladeer…I still love you even now.” You manage to choke out before everything then went black. All you could think about was how his eyes were hollow when he looked toward you. Scara felt a pain he hadn’t truly felt yet, he is all too familiar with the pain of losing someone he considered to be a friend but losing you hurt so much worse. Your words cut him deeper than if you would have said you hated him. His fourth betrayal… was you. The traveler stood in front of him as he watched Nahida pull you to safety, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he deserved… with or without you by his side. He will always love you and that may be why this hurt so much.

//And in the end in wonderland we both went mad//

When you woke up you didn’t know how or when you arrived in Sumaru. Your body was sore but you had no memory of anything, “Oh you’re awake!” Someone called out. You were still in a daze when you could make out some people walking up to you, they were doctors that had been tending to you by order of Lesser Lord Kusanali. You didn’t think you were worthy of that treatment from the God of Wisdom herself. You never really got an answer but once you were healed up and could walk, you decided to stay in Sumaru. You joined the forest watchers due to how you enjoyed being out in nature and they were impressed by your determination, along with your sarcasm and quick wit always made talking to you interesting as well. One day, you were on patrol when you saw a man in an all-blue outfit with a massive hat walking down your path, “Hey! Are you lost or something? It’s dangerous out here and I really don’t need more adventurers getting themselves in trouble.” His eyes met yours and he looked pale. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?” You say pulling the canteen off your belt and handing it to him, “Thanks but I can handle myself. Don’t you have anything better to do?” He says while taking it, trying to ignore the lightning scar going up your arm. “It’s kinda my job to help idiots who get lost so I’m trying to see if you are one.” Your smug smile made his eyes dart to the ground. “Well, I’m y/n. Do you need assistance?” He looks up at you and you feel a pang in your chest. Something feels familiar but you can’t put your finger on it. “No, I can manage.” He said as he tilted his hat down, handing you back your canteen, and started walking in the opposite direction. “You can’t even tell me your name stranger?” You laugh a bit and he stops in his tracks, “I’m just a wanderer… but if you are so insistent on knowing, you can call me Ren.” He says not turning back to you. “Well Ren, maybe I’ll see you around.” His presence felt comforting somehow and you were sad to watch him go, but you shook the thoughts from your mind as you walked away. “Ren” knows you; he remembers every sarcastic comment, every sweet word, every kiss from you. He may have whipped his existence from Irminsul but he regained his memories after encountering the Traveler again. He turned slightly to watch as you walked off admiring the nature around you as the words, “I hate the forest,” played in his head. He realized then that if you never met him, you would have never joined the Fatui… you joined for him? How stupid could you be? He smiled to himself, “You deserve this nice life. One without me in it.” Though he wasn’t sure if he wanted that. He wanted to be selfish again but at least for now, he will admire you from a distance. He had to face what he had done to others, what he had done to you. He will never be a "good guy" but he will atone for his wrongs in due time and maybe you can get to know him as "Ren". Fate is cruel and he knows that he may never get that chance but he will do what he has to… in hopes he will have another chance to make things right.

[rayclubs]

Howdy there, I’ve been reading through your tf2 language/accent/dialect posts like the morning paper and they are soooo cool and fun to read:)

Like. The whole post dedicated to how to write Heavy’s dialogue was absolutely FASCINATING what with all of the grammar things that you mentioned! Things like pluralization, not using crutch/filler words, etc etc. Also. Order of adjectives?? That was one I never considered since it’s usually something that native english speakers just sort of Pick Up Intuitively as they learn how to speak, but it makes so much sense!! I’ll definitely be applying a little bit of that to any dialogue I put in comics and such in the future

And Scout’s section was so interesting to read as well, like. My general accent and dialect is like that (what with being from that region of the states and all) and I’m constantly surprised at how much I’ve noticed people try to write his accent phonetically since reading the main tf2 language breakdown post. Like. It will always be strange to see people try to phonetically spell out a non-rhotic dialect/accent lol. I’m also super surprised at how little people utilize “wicked” as an intensifier in his dialogue (typically used in place of “really” or wherever you could use “super” as an intensifier (at least in my experience lolol))

Anyway, I am so so super sorry if this ask is getting a little too long, I just wanted to say your posts are wicked cool, super fun and informative, and that I hope you have a lovely day!!

Woah, thank you so much!

The order of adjectives is kind of a difficult subject because I never learned it properly, I know it's pretty strict in English but I honestly haven't yet gotten to researching how it works in Russian - I'm imagining there must be some logic to it too, just of a different kind, but it happens to come to me naturally because I am a native speaker, oof - maybe one day I'll make a separate post about it, even. Hopefully.

And I didn't know about "wicked"! This sucks because I say "wicked" and I'm not really too fond of the idea of being associated with Scout TF2 - ha! - but it's also awesome as a linguistic tool and I'll definitely be putting it in my writing. Thank you!

[lou-is-lurking]

Ask

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

☯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

(I am sending the same asks to everybody posting this ask list because I want to compare the answers)

Studying us like guineapigs, I see... 🧐

💞

The Characters. Always. Other things vary in importance (though spelling and grammar and formatting are always high up, too). I rarely write plot-driven stories, and when I try I still focus too much on the characters and it ends up being all vibes and chaos. I enjoy worldbuilding more in RPG or original stories. Part of the appeal of fanfic for me has always been that the canon world is already built, and I can fully focus on the characters. That's why I rarely write AUs (and am in absolute fucking awe of authors who are excellent worldbuilders (yes, I'm looking at you).

🪄

I usually post right before I go to sleep (mainly because I can't stop tweaking and editing and fussing about everything until I literally can hardly keep my eyes open). Nevertheless I always take a few moments after I hit Post to enjoy the satisfaction of having actually managed to get to that point, because boyyyyy it does not happen very often. And then I pass the fuck out which I guess can be counted as taking care of myself lol

☯️

oof, I could actually write a whole ass essay about this (only I can't cos I should be working instead of hanging around on tumblr...). Short answer: I love the community that comes with sharing the same love and passion in a fandom. I also am absolutely shit at consistently participating. It takes a fandom calming down as much as YOI has for me to actually feel kinda comfortable to "take up space" and connect with people. And even then I'm still bad at it.

Another thing that has changed over the past years that I'm kinda torn about is how much of every fandom is scattered across different discord servers now. It's nice for having smaller communities and a shared space to hang out, but it also leads to cliques and insulation and overall just less connection outside of it. Or maybe I just need to join more discords lol (and lurk less, probably 😅). But also, I've seen ppl gush about art and fic on discord, and the creators will just never know. I dunno man. It's complicated 😂

Thanks for including me in your study, pls share your findings with the community! 😆

Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks