#but i wrote it in one go and i am proud of it

[icaruspendragon]

I dropped out of college at the end of my last semester because according to my therapist dalton i'm "hard-wired for self-destruction," because I have control issues. early on I somehow managed to convince myself that I couldn't be subject to the future's uncertainty if there is no future that requires relinquishing control or whatever.

anyway. it's four years later and I have two and a half years of therapy with a trauma specialist under my belt. and in two weeks time I'm being incredibly brave and going back to finish my degree.

I'm sure some of you may be wondering, "what's your degree in?"

english literature and professional writing.

and of course the people in my personal life are proud of me for going back. but a lot of them also think it's kinda funny, too.

and it's not like they think it's funny in a mean way or anything. they think it's a bit funny because in march of 2023 I wrote and released a silly little book. a poetry collection about love, grief, searching, sacrifice, absolution, and what lies in between.

the book is called lazarus rises (amongst other things) and was created because I watched season four episode one of hit cw show supernatural, "lazarus rising" a few too many times and then decided to get real weird with it.

the book itself isn't why some folks think me going back is funny. it's because my silly little book is a bestseller.

I'm a college-dropout-turned-bestselling-author-turned-college-student-once-more.

like this situation is literally a fanfic au in the making, right? and as a lover of both a silly au and tomfuckery, I've decided I'm not gonna mention it. as a lover of stories and literal bestselling author, I cannot in good faith do anything other than keep it a secret.

who am I to deny someone a "my life is a fanfic" moment?

I have no choice but to sit back and see what happens.

and boy am I excited to see what happens

[joels-darlin]

A Very Merry Christmas Morning

18+ Only!

Pairings: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: sexual content, smut, fingering, teasing, pet names, Christmas smut hehe, no outbreak

Summary: Christmas Mornings spent with Joel are different than what you are used to and this year he wanted to give you an extra special present.

Word Count: 997

Author Note: Listen don't even ask hides. This might be heavily fuelled by beer and wine right now, as well as the delusions that have been living in my head rent free all day - believe me this is how I made it through.

I am also making the most of not being depressed for once, the itch to write smut has been killing me! Tbh I am particularly just feral in general right now whoops, no better way to channel it than writing about my husband. Its been quite awhile since I even considered writing smut, I am fairly rusty, but gave it a good crack so enjoy. I am actually proud of myself, I wrote this in a couple of hours.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and and Happy New Year! <3

Read on AO3

Christmas mornings had very much changed over the past few years. Once considered civilised chaos in the family home, had now become slower and more enjoyable after moving in with your long term boyfriend Joel and his daughter Sarah. She was a teenager now not often leaving her bedroom until at least midday, even on the most anticipated day of the year.

You had always considered yourself an early riser, often up at the crack of dawn or even before your alarm; making the most of day. But Christmas Day was the one you allowed just that extra bit of time in bed, making the most of the fresh bedsheets you had swapped out the night before and enjoying the feeling of being cuddled up in the warmth of Joel’s arms. It wasn’t often that you got to spend time like this - life was busy.

The feeling of Joel shifting in bed had brought you to, craning your neck to peek at the clock on bedside table - the numbers 7:32am staring back. Rolling over you where met with the chocolate brown eyes of your man, a soft smile adorned across his face.

“Merry Christmas baby girl” he crooned, sleep still evident in his voice.

“Merry Christmas my love” you beamed back at him leaning over to kiss him softly on the lips. Except he was sneaky, sliding his hands into the back of your hair to pull you closer, deepening the kiss further, teeth grazing against your lips nibbling ever so lightly.

Joel knew what he was doing, knew your body like the back of his hand and could get you going with a simple kiss. As if on cue you felt the burning desire pooling in your lower stomach, evident that your matching pyjama shorts were now flooded in hot, wet arousal. He was no longer a want but a need. You still had a couple of hours yet before anyone needed to be awake, so why not make the most of it.

“Joel…” you whined softly, detaching your lips from his.

“Tell me what you need sweet girl” his southern accent now laced with desire.

“You, just you” you moaned softly again, his hands under your pyjama top roaming your body. The feeling of his callouses against your soft skin leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You chose a good night to not wear any underwear. Joel continued, hands now traversing around the front of your top cupping both your breasts, squeezing ever so softly, making you moan. Taking it a step further by rolling your nipples through his thumb and forefinger, back arching involuntarily at his touch. Fuck me, this man. Joel loved how your body responded to his simple actions and had voiced that on many occasions - watching you squirm and writhe beneath him was one of his favourite things.

“Gonna give you an extra present baby girl” he whispered, the feeling of his breath tickling against the skin of your earlobe. Making a mental note to return the favour later on.

“Fuck darlin’ you are so wet for me” he said breathless. The teasing was enough and Joel had slid his hand inside your pyjama bottoms, legs parting instinctively for him. He was driving you insane, fingers lazily trailing over your entrance where the arousal pooled heavily. Collecting some of it he teased running the tips of his fingers through your folds and hitting your clit lightly, making you gasp in pleasure.

“Open up” he demanded. You did as Joel said opening up your mouth, sliding two fingers inside. The taste of you own arousal flooding your senses straightaway. Rolling your tongue you cleaned off the slick from his fingers. “Such a good girl for me aren’t you, love the taste of you” he groaned.

“Please Joel, more” you begged with anticipation, craving the feeling of his thick, calloused fingers inside your center. Joel gave in to your pleas and traversed his hand down your body, where in one simple movement sunk two fingers inside of your core. The sheer pleasure causing you to lift your arm and bite down on the material of your sleeve to cover a loud moan. Hopefully no-one else in the house heard that.

Curling his fingers slightly just to hit that sweet spot, he knew exactly what to do. Dropping his head into the crook of your neck Joel started biting and sucking on the skin there continuing to drive you absolutely wild, his tongue glancing over each area he marked. He continued to pump his fingers in and out at a steady pace, the sensation from his thick fingers nearly sending you tumbling over the edge. The sounds of your quiet moans and his fingers working away at your hot, wet core filling the room.

“Good girl” Joel muttered, the low and gravely tone sending multiple shockwaves of pleasure below, clenching around his fingers. If he kept calling you that you were done for. “Joel…fuck” you moaned, walls continuing to flutter and tighten around him, his fingers sinking deeper and deeper with every movement.

“Come for me darlin’ please” he begged. Moving to graze his thumb across your clit. All it took was a couple of swipes, your climax hitting fast and hard as Joel pumped his fingers faster inside of you; back arching off the bed as your quiet moans filled the room.

It took a few minutes to come down from the high. Laboured breaths of yours the only sounds bouncing off the walls of the room, core continuing to flutter and clench around nothing - Joel’s fingers now completely withdrawn as you lay in his arms.

“Well I know what I am asking Santa for next year Miller” you turned to smile up at him, small giggle leaving your lips. Making him grin in response, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

You prayed every single Christmas morning the the rest of your life was like this.

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

Teach Me.

D.R.W x S.F.K x Reader

Author’s Note: This is my Christmas gift to y'all! I've put together a full version of the two part Wild Wednesday posts I wrote recently. I really am so proud of how these came out and I wanted to put it into an easy read so you didn’t have to scour my WW tags and risk it just kinda falling to the ether. I may do this again in the future, depending on how this goes.

Synopsis: Being in a relationship with Danny and both of you having long lasting sexual tension with Danny 's best friend, Sam. A beautiful night of showing Sam what makes you and Danny feel good.

Word Count: 2.7K (quick and easy threesome)

Pairing: Danny x Sam x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Foul language, oral, threesome, light dom/sub, raw sex (Wrap it before you tap your boyfriend and his best friend)

Teach Me. -D.R.W x S.F.K x F. Reader

All I can picture is being friends with Sam and dating Danny. Always having this constant sexual tension between you, and seeing it also with Danny and his best friend. After a drunken evening with Danny, you find out that Sam and him kissed on New Years once. It was a one time thing, but it felt good. You keep thinking about the idea of Sam and Danny kissing, and you wish to be in the middle of it one day.

Somehow, some way, you find yourself in the middle of your fantasy. Danny loves showing you off to Sam, showing what makes you feel good, and you can't help but pipe up. "Can I show you what makes Danny feel good, Sammy?" You ask, standing there in the middle of the bedroom, both Sam and Danny watching you. "Yes, please." He whispers, a little nervously.

"Sit on the edge of the bed. Both of you." You ask teasingly. The friend's look at each other before sitting, you can't help but look at them like this. So toned, soft skin, side by side, hard and wanting. You drop to your knees between Danny's legs, moving your hair aside. "He loves to watch the way I suck his cock." You smile at Sam as you take Danny's hard member in your hand. "I pump his cock slowly at first." You say as you demonstrate, Sam's eyes glued to your motions. "Then I lick his tip just like this." You let your tongue gently lap at Danny's tip, relishing in the attention as Danny moans, letting his head fall back. "Then I take him into my mouth, like this." You whisper, before leaning in and taking Danny's cock down your throat, slowly taking him inch by inch. Danny groans, his hand in your hair as you bob your head up and down on him.

"Fuck." Sam breathes, his hand slowly pumping his own cock. You slowly come up and off Danny's dick and look up at Sam, "You wanna try?" You smile up at him sweetly, heart slamming in your chest. "I can show you, again." You tease as you make your way between Sam's thighs, replacing his hand with your hand, wrapping around his achingly hard cock. It's so pretty, soft and warm against your palm. "I think you should show him baby, Sammy's a visual learner." Danny smirks as he leans in and kisses Sam's neck. Sam's eyes roll back in his head as he loses himself for a moment, sandwiched between his two friends. "Pay attention, Sammy." Danny whispers in his ear. "Yes, sir." Sam quips, a lazy stoner smile on his face.

Both boys look back at you. "I touch him just like this." You say, pumping slowly, watching Sam's thighs flex at your touch. "Then I lick his tip like this." "Mhmm," Sam's voice shakes as he watches Danny's hands playing with his nipples. You let your tongue explore the soft expanse of Sam's tip, loving the feeling of salty precum on your tongue. "That's my good girl." Danny grins as you pull off, letting a gentle bit of spit cover his tip and down his length. "Then take him deeper into your mouth." You repeat, bringing your open mouth down Sam's cock, pumping the rest into your mouth as you begin to take Sam's dick into your throat. Moaning around him as you do. "Fuck sake." Sam breathes, his hand tentatively touching your hair. "Go ahead Sam, show her how much you like it." Danny assures. Sam moves his hand into your hair, so gentle still as he moves your hair to the side and guides you along his length, your nails raking up his thigh as you do so. "God, you're so pretty." Danny whispers to you, "So pretty." Sam agrees gingerly.

Sam surprises you by guiding you off of him, "Can I try? Please?" He asks eagerly. Your eyes glisten from taking him deep, "Mhm." You respond, excited to watch. You move to be next to Danny's knee, watching as your boyfriend follows Sam's movements to be on his knees in front of him. You move Sam's hands up to relax on Danny's thighs. "Start here, be sweet and kiss here." You whisper in his ear, watching as goosebumps raise on Sam's skin. His hands relax onto both Danny's thighs, gently feeling the muscles underneath. He leans in and places tender kisses against the skin of both inner thighs. "Good boy." Danny coos, hand gently running over Sam's cheek to his jaw, thumb turning over his bottom lip, slowly. You could cut the tension with a knife.

"And you do just what I showed you." You whisper, watching as Sam moves a hand to Danny's cock. "So soft." Sam murmurs to himself, getting acquainted with the feeling. Danny sighs as he watches Sam pump his cock lazily at first, increasing in speed just a tad. Sam leans in on his own, gently kitten licking at Danny's cock. Danny lets out a hiss as he tries to control himself, locking eyes with Sam. You can't help but begin to touch yourself as you watch, just taking in the sight as Sam lets a little bit of saliva dribble down Danny's shaft, wetting it for his hand and bringing his mouth down the length. "Go slow, pretty boy." You whisper, moving closer to Sam, eyes on Danny as you reach around and tug on Sam's own cock. A moan reverberating from Sam's throat and around Danny, making Danny groan, his eyes flutter shut for just a moment.

"Good boy, Sammy." You whisper, your hand slowly pumping his cock, making him sigh as he begins to take more of Danny. "Fuck, Sam." Danny's hand relaxes into Sam's hair, he gently takes his hair up into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide him up and down.

Sam gags a bit on Danny's cock, but presses on, a tear rolling down his cheek. "There he is, good job sweet boy, keep going, just like that." You rasp against his ear, pumping him faster now. You can tell Danny is close, the way he moans, how his head falls back, his lips parted. "Come on Sammy, wanna watch you cum." You smile as your thumb rolls over the tip of his hard cock, Sam hums around Danny's length, making Danny's grip in Sam's hair tighten. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." Danny mumbles out, "Want to watch you swallow it all." You say, egging Danny and Sam on, knowing just how bad they each want it.

Sam pumps Danny's cock into his mouth, using his hand for what he can't fit in his throat. "Baby the tip of his cock, Sammy. I know he loves it." You advise, also doing the same thing to Sam with your hand. You watch as he arches his back, moaning around the tip of Danny's cock.

Danny's hand is like a vice grip on Sam's hair, holding him still as he cums down Sam's throat. Sam eagerly swallows it all, every last drop, "Oh Sam. Oh fuck Sam." Danny whimpers as he cums, Sam can't help it, cumming in your hand. He pulls his mouth away, moaning and whining as he cums hard for you both.

You can't help but grin as you look at these two gorgeous men. Sam wraps his arms around Danny, his head in his lap, Danny hunched over Sam, playing with his hair as they both catch their breaths. "So good. You tasted so good." Sam whispers, turning to look up at Danny. Danny kisses Sam deeply, tasting himself on his best friend's tongue. Danny hums against his lips. "Had a good teacher." Sam breathes, looking at you. You blush, moving closer to the two of them.

Sam kisses you before giving you to Danny to kiss. "So can we do this again, soon?" You ask looking to them. "Of course. I gotta know what makes you tick next." Sam smiles against your neck. "Why wait?" Danny speaks, kissing your neck. 

"No time like the present. My girl has done such a good job, being so sweet to both of us, I think she deserves some of our attention, don't you think Sammy?" Danny coos in your ear, kissing up your neck, his hand cradling your jaw. "Mm, the teacher becomes the subject." Sam smirks, kissing up the other side of your neck. You feel like you could burst into flames with the way their touches feel on your body. "Y-Yes please." You submit without a fight, not wanting to wait for your turn after being so terribly teased from watching Sam suck off your boyfriend.

"You're gonna love playing with her, she's such a good girl for me. You're gonna be a good girl for Sam, baby?" Danny asks, turning your face to him, your eyes hooded with lust. "Yes, sir. I can be good." You whisper, a subtle quiver in your voice, you can hardly wait. "Good, pretty girl." Danny whispers against your lips, kissing you deep. He pulls away from you, looking over to Sam, "You want to ask her to lay down, Sammy? I don't think our girl deserves to wait any longer." Danny says, ever the mind reader.

"Lay down, pretty girl." Sam smiles, lending you a hand to help you onto the bed. You relax into the pillows, your heart slamming in your chest. The two boys kneel on either side of your body, their eyes feasting over your figure. You should feel semi nervous, but you can't help but feel so safe. You know they only want to make you feel good. Danny's hand runs up your inner thigh, up to your pussy. You sigh out a moan, "Oh Sammy, she needs it bad." Danny smirks as his fingers run up from your pussy to your clit, the collective wetness on Danny's fingertips make your mind melt as he begins to swirl your clit under his middle finger with ease. "Just feel how wet she is for us." Danny invites Sam closer, his hand dragging along the expanse of your inner thigh. You spread your legs wider, showing off just how much you need it. Sam's fingers glide gently inside of you, you moan as his long, slender fingers press ever so slowly inside of you. "Oh fuck." Sam whispers, his cock bounces, so hard with need again. "You're soaked." Sam smiles, his eyes holding yours, you can't help but blush. The sound of your own wetness fills the room as Sam's fingers slowly move in and out. "That's my girl." Danny smiles at you, his fingers on your clit combined with Sam's make you cry out, your eyes fluttering shut as your hips buck.

"Not yet, baby doll. We're just getting started." Danny grins, his hand moving away, prompting Sam to follow suit. You can't help but whimper in frustration. "Danny, please." You whine, your thighs pressing together for some sort of relief. "Spread your legs baby, let me show Sam how you like to cum on my face." Danny asks softly.

You follow his order, letting Danny lay between your legs, making himself at home while Sam moves closer to your hip so he can watch. Danny's hands run softly up your legs and rest on your thighs, his eyes closed as he kisses you on your thighs. "She likes it when you start slow, don't you, baby?" Danny speaks quietly between your thighs. The warm air from his lips makes you practically buzz with excitement. "Yes, sir." You smile shyly. "Kiss her just like this, she feels so soft and warm." Danny explains, kissing you sweetly, pressing wet, lazy kisses up both inner thighs. "Then, slowly, bring your tongue up through her folds." Danny says, his tongue gently trailing up your wetness, making you sigh gently at the sensation of his cool tongue. "You see? She loves it. Don't you, princess?" You nod quickly, "Mhmm." You whine. "Then a few more times, just like that." Danny says to Sam, almost ignoring your whimpers. Danny's hands go to your hips, pulling you closer, your legs propping up out of habit, giving Danny a place to bring his hands, pulling your thighs to lay against his shoulders. "See? She knows how she wants it." Danny smirks to Sam, who is now lazily pumping himself as he watches. Danny closes his eyes, his tongue moving quicker on your clit, your back arches as he hums out a moan against you. Sam lends a hand to Danny, moving hair away from his face. It makes you go crazy watching them like this.

Soon, Danny pulls away and sits back up, kneeling next to Sam. "You wanna make my girl cum for you?" Danny asks Sam. Sam nods quickly, "God, yes, please." Sam answers. The two trade places, and you're already a dizzy mess. "Kiss her thighs, get her comfortable." Danny says, his eyes flitting up to you, his hand on your calf as he watches from your side so he can watch.

Sam kisses your thighs, his eyelashes tickle as he looks up at you and then over to Danny. He follows Danny's instructions, moving his tongue to your pussy, licking gently through them. You and Sam both sigh softly, "She does taste good." Sam murmurs, almost to himself. You can't help but blush as Sam loses himself in tasting you. Lapping you up, ever so gently. "Faster Sammy, right against her clit, she'll-" as Sam follows Danny's prompt, your hand moves into Sam's hair, your legs spreading open. "She'll do that." Danny grins as your hand tightens in Sam's hair, earning a moan from Sam. "Good boy." Danny whispers before kissing Sam on the shoulder.

It feels so good, your legs begin to shake, "Oh god Sam." You cry out, "There you go Sammy, latch your lips around her clit and suck." Danny comments, Sam follows. You cry loudly, eyes squeezed shut as your legs clamp around Sam's head. Sam moans as he presses his hips against the mattress, "She's close, dig your fingers into her hips and pull her closer, she tries to fight it but she knows she's close." Danny eggs Sam on, knowing just how you like it. Sam's hands grip tightly to you, his tongue flat as he moves his head back and forth, Danny's hand on the back of Sam's head, whispering in his ear, "Good boy, just like that."

You are losing your mind, crying out Sam's name. Danny tells Sam to move his fingers inside of you, filling you up while he laps quickly at your clit. You can feel your release coming fast, Sam's long fingers brushing deep inside you while his plump lips latch around your clit. Your grip in his hair is tight as your hips buck, but Sam's mouth never leaves you. "There she is. Good girl, let it go. Let him taste it. Let Sammy feel you on his tongue." Danny says, his voice like silk in your ears. You can't stop until you cum all over Sam's mouth, "Don't over stimulate her, just let her come down slowly, lap it up gentle and slow." Danny says softly, his hands caressing your face and moving your hair from your forehead. "Such a good girl for us. Always so good." Danny whispers to you, kissing your cheek, up to your lips.

You search for your breath in the haze. Losing grip on what's real. Sam lays against your thigh, just like how he did Danny's. You play with Sam's hair as you both come back to life. Sam slowly sits up, lips, cheeks, and chin shining with your cum. Danny smiles, pulling Sam into a kiss with his hand holding Sam's jaw. "She tastes good on your tongue." Danny whispers against his friend's mouth.

Sam moves to you, laying beside your form, kissing you deeply, his tongue in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. "Mmm." You hum against his lips. The three of you lay in a heap, you cuddled in-between your lovers, their hands softly wandering your body. "You did so good, Sam." You smile, your fingers running through Sam's hair, he grins at you. "I had a good teacher."

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Tag list:

@tripthelight-fanfic @emsgvf @ageofstardust @dakotadovato @screechesincoherently @gretavankleep37 @strangeh0rizons @capturethechaos @kiszkathecook @jakeslovehandles @depressingdarlin @gretavanfleas @prophetofthedune @josiee-gvf @doodle417 @readthinkbeme @katie-gvf @lallisonl @toxbexannouncedx @kdarling1 @theweightofjake @greatervanfleet @foxylotus @highladyofasgard @joshkiszkas @badgvf @greta-van-simp @sunandthemoontwinflames @cassy-face @mindastreamofcolours

(If you'd like to be added or your handle has changed lmk!)

[endy-the-anxious]

Last of their kind

Summary: what it's like to be the last of your kind

Word count: 799

Characters: naga!Janus

Trigger warnings: dead, implied death, and a corpse (not described in detail)

Notes: this is inspired by a rp i have with @lost-in-thought-20

----------

It wasn’t easy being the last of your kind. A few stages were involved, each more miserable than the next, and each making you feel more isolated.

The first stage started with hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone. That there were others who knew what it was like to be just like you. Who shared some of the same struggles, and whose existence would bring comfort, if only you could find them. That hope was supposed to keep you from falling into the pit of despair. It would give you the drive to go on a journey in search of people like you.

Unfortunately, this hope was also the road right to that same pit, where one would balance on the ridge until they would inevitably fall in. Because nothing was more gut-wrenching than going on a journey with hope, only to have it crushed when you realize that you truly were the only one.

You could find traces of your kind, from ruins to books to skeletal structures, but none of them helped alleviate the pain. In fact, they made it worse. Knowing they had been right there, right where you were right now, and yet, they were gone. And you were still here.

Janus had long given up on having hope of finding others like him. He’d fallen into the pit and wasn’t planning on getting out. After all, what was the point anyways? This would be a fitting end. The last naga would die alone, surrounded by the memories of his ancestors before him.

The ruins that had once been a village were the last place he’d visited. Surrounded by trees, close to the mountain range, they would have been safe there. There should have been at least some nagas there, but there weren’t. The place was empty and covered in dust. Clearly it had been abandoned for many years. Still, Janus had searched around, looked in every nook and cranny. If he could find something, find anything that could just tell him where they went, it would be alright. But there wasn’t.

He found an egg, though. A naga egg. And maybe it had been foolish to think that anything could still hatch from it after all this time, but Janus had been desperate. This was the last thing he had. So he clung to it, and tried to nurture it. He’d picked a random house in the village, and every night, he would lay in bed, tail curled around the egg. Whispering to it that it would be okay. That it could come out because he was right there to take care of them. That it was safe now.

It stayed like that for weeks, but there was no sign of life from it. Thinking that maybe it struggled to get through the outer shell of the egg, Janus decided to help it. He carefully peeled it open, piece by piece. Still, no movement. He wasn’t ready to accept the truth yet. He couldn’t. So, he would carry the fetus to his bed at night, hoping that if he warmed it up with his body temperature, it might come back to life.

When he finally realized it didn’t, and never would, the devastation set in. He buried the fetus in the backyard, to put them to rest, before starting the mourning stage.

The grief alone had nearly killed him. It had grabbed him by his throat and yanked his heart out of his chest before tearing it to shreds in front of him. His people, gone. Wiped away like they had never been there in the first place, ready to be forgotten. His screams of anguish continuously traveled throughout the forest until his voice was too hoarse to go on.

And that was where he ended up now. Leaning against the bed in his room, unable to move, unable to continue. It was strange to think that the catalyst that led him down this path was one singular book. Had he not been curious, and read about his people, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t have known about his people, but he could’ve been happy anyways. He could’ve lived among humans, ones who cared about him, at least. But instead, he’d let this quest of finding other nagas take over his life, and he’d left everyone behind. Perhaps that was for the better, too. Soft skin and serrated scales didn’t mesh well. His torso being that of a human wouldn’t make them accept him more. It would only make him stand out.

He should count himself lucky, for being allowed to die here. After all this time, after all this suffering and sorrow, he would finally find his people.

And he knew they would welcome him with open arms.

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: sex workers reader and toji, wrestling, he puts you in a headlock, ass slapping

as a sex worker under an agency, you sometimes get the opportunity to perform certain tropes that you wouldn't think too much about doing on your own. there have been quite a few that your manager has thrown your way; medical play, light BDSM scenes, and now, mixed wrestling. you've done your fair share of oiled up fighting with other women in your career, but you've never wrestled a man before.

its all staged, much like real wrestling except—except you're not too sure why or how you were paired up with infamous actor Toji Fushigurou. technically speaking, you two aren't anywhere near the same weight class, but you're not sure if technicalities even count for a job like this.

there are a few rules: no actual striking of each other, take the others underwear off during the fight, no biting. as the ref lists off all the other little things you two need to remember, you both take each other in. Toji is, for lack of better words, fucking huge. he's got at least six inches on you, packed with muscle and a nonchalant kind of finesse that makes you just the slightest bit nervous under his stare. he stands only in a tight pair of black boxer briefs, and you can make out the outline of his soft cock, despite the fact that it still rests low on his thigh.

he grins at you when he notices your ogling, winking once when you frown at him. he's been in the industry for so long, he's more than used to being objectified, but something about your little defiance that shines in your eyes makes him want to tear into you, piece by piece.

"Go!" the ref announces once she's finished listing her instructions. Toji doesn't immediately attack you, instead grins at you, hands on his waist as he cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction. with a, albeit weak, battle cry, do you lunge at him—

and quickly find yourself pinned. you don't know how he does it so quickly, maneuver you as if you only weighed a pound, but he does it. catches you in his arms and swings you around until your back meets the floor with a grunt, the wind suddenly knocked out of you. he's gentle though, where he pins you with his knees on either side of you.

"At least try to put up a fight," he teases you, pulling at the straps of your bikini. but you fight him off as much as you can, grunting and cursing at him, taking this entirely too seriously for what will ultimately end with you being fucked into oblivion by the man. doesn't mean you have to go out without a fight, though.

although, your fight doesn't mean much to Toji. by the third and final round, you're fully naked and he's still got his underwear on. your ass is slapped raw by how many times his too big hands have groped you, nipples pinched to sensitivity. you're not surprised when the ref announces your lost, tells Toji to claim his prize.

and he does just that. pins you on the floor, finally releasing the thickness of his cock. he's cocky the entire time, teasing, with how he pins you on your stomach, holding you in a headlock as he fucks his cock too deep inside of you to put up much of a fight anymore.

"Did you even try?" he asks, breathy, a smirk plastered on his face as he looms over your shoulder. "Or did you want to end up like this? With my dick in your stomach? The fight worked you up that much, huh?"

he taps your clit with too thick, mean fingers with his other hand, tightening his bicep around your throat when you try to get smart with him. he knows its all bark and no bite, if judging by the way your cunt sucks him in is anything to go by. you can only gurgle out a curse to him, eyes rolling back in your head when his wicked laugh only pushes you over the edge to climax.

(after the scene ends, he kisses your temples and squeezes your waist, telling you that you guys should do more scenes together. you only stick out your tongue at him, promising to get stronger so you can take him down next time. he laughs at you, more than happy to entertain your thoughts that will, truthfully, never come true.)

[waterfallofspace]

What A Way To Start A Year

T/im learns a little something about karma, friends, and care. Seems even J/on isn't quite as cold as he seems.

A M/agnus A/rchives fic, set somewhere pre-season 1. Shouldn't have any spoilers, but proceed with caution just incase~ (nothing late game, just character dynamic things)

Welcome to "I meant for this to be a little drabble and I wrote 3k words"~ Having a bit of hyperfixation and burn out as I started this new year, soooo I decided to make T/im suffer <3 Not promising quality seeing as I wrote this all in the span of tonight, but consider it a lil 'too long' drabble, and happy new years!

Best way to start off the new year, giving one of your lil guys a lil snz <3

Characters: T/im, M/artin, S/asha, and J/on. Word Count: 3.9k

(CW: There is some swearing, and light descriptions of high fevers)

Christmas had been good this year, maybe the best it had in a long time. Life of the party as always, Tim had enjoyed getting to spend it with his old, and new, colleagues. On top of that, Jon had been laid up with a pretty awful cold for a couple days leading up to it, so he wasn’t around to crush any brilliant ideas Tim came up with. 

This led to the budget receiving a fairly substantial hit, though many researchers donated to the cause when they learned this borrowing wasn’t exactly approved. Hell, even Elias had pitched in, claiming something or other about ‘archivists fit for the job not exactly growing on trees’, and wanting to ‘save some of Jon’s sanity’. 

“Tim? Are you even listening to me?”  

Pulled back to the conversation at hand, Tim lifts his gaze to the taller man fidgeting nervously in front of him. Martin was never one for confrontations, and usually the first ‘no’ would have been more than enough to lead to a string of apologies for even asking. Today however, he seems to have grown a spine. At the worst possible moment. 

“Oh come on,” Martin continues, missing the groan slipping from Tim’s throat. “Even Jon agreed to it!” 

“I’m not really in the party mood,” Tim retorts, leaning back in his chair. “Besides, Jon didn’t agree to celebrate, he agreed not to stop the celebration. Not the same thing.” 

From across her desk, Sasha gives a low chuckle. “He’s got you there, Martin.”

“Can you at least give it a little thought before turning it down?” Martin insists, completely out of character for someone usually so eager to please. 

What the hell has gotten into him today? He didn’t even seem to enjoy himself that much at the Christmas party. Sure, he had a few drinks and mingled with the staff, but he’d left as soon as it was over, not waiting around for chatting like Tim and Sasha.

Clearing his throat with a grimace, Tim casts Sasha a dark look as she chuckles again. Knowing far too much, as usual. Especially when it came to him. If it was anyone else, Tim would hate it with all his being, but given that it’s Sasha… well it’s a welcome invasion. 

Still, it would be nice if she didn’t rat him out. And to Martin of all people, well let’s just say he saw what happened when Jon was sick. Yeah, passing on that one. Attention is great, Tim lives for it, but the coddling? Not really his style. 

“hiEH– guh…”

Damn, that had been a close one. Thankfully Martin seems oblivious, though Sasha sits up in her chair, reaching down into a drawer to fish something out. 

Turning his focus back to Martin, Tim provides an offer, desperate to just have the interaction come to an end. 

“Fine, I’ll show up, but I don’t want any part in planning it.” 

“Oh of course, I’ll handle all the details, I mean it’s just a new years party, how much can there really be to do? I mean food, timing, gotta make sure we have keys to the building– oh but if Jon’s there, that shouldn’t be a problem…” Martin says, rambling beginning to fade into the background as Tim finds himself unable to- 

“hH– ek’CHhiew!” 

“-Oh, bless you!” Martin says, his own thoughts long forgotten. 

Unable to get a word out, Tim merely waves a hand, ducking into his shoulder for another, “eTChhew!” 

“Bles-” 

And another, “iTSChh’ew!” 

“Oh ble-” 

And another, “ehh– kTChh’iew!” 

Silently Sasha stands, handing Tim a pack of tissues. Must have been what she was looking for in the desk. Once again, knowing more than she should, of course she picked up on his patterns. 

Accepting them gratefully, Tim pulls a few out and roughly rubs at his nose, pointedly avoiding Martin’s worried gaze. Gripping his still trembling nose through the tissue, Tim sucks in a tight breath through his teeth, holding for a beat, before finally spinning around in his chair for a final- 

“hH’ETCSHh-ieuw! Whew, bless me.” 

Martin’s hands are fidgeting again, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself as Tim gives his nose a light massage through the tissue. He’s aware enough not to point it out, but is nearly shaking with the effort of suppressing his concerns. 

With a sigh, Tim meets his eyes. “I’m fine, Martin. I always sneeze like that.” He leaves out ‘when I’m sick’. It also happens if he’s suffering allergies, though he doubts that would be a point in his defense given it’s the middle of winter. 

“Yeah he’s not kidding,” Sasha pipes up, throwing Tim a wink as he glares. “You should hear him in spring, once it starts he can be going for hours.” 

“I wouldn’t say hours, Sash-” 

“Remember the cherry blossom incident?” Sasha interrupts, sending a sugary smile over to Martin. “He was wrecked for the rest of the day, I was almost certain he was never gonna stop. Even considered giving a statement here, that reaction was almost supernatural.” 

Tim winces, an audible moan slipping from his lips. “We swore to never speak of it again.” 

Sasha laughs, Tim giving her another playful glare from behind his tissues. “You swore that, I did no such thing.” 

Thankfully Martin doesn’t pry, having enough common sense to offer a polite chuckle, and offer some excuse about ‘planning’. Still, he can’t help himself from shooting a meek “I hope you feel better soon” over his shoulder, Tim giving him finger guns in return. 

“This is karma, you know,” Sasha calls after Martin’s outside earshot. “You took pleasure in Jon’s suffering, so now it’s your turn to suffer the same fate.” 

“No, thi- eTChhew! Scuse me,” Tim says, rubbing his nose with the tissue one last time before depositing it in his nearly overflowing trash can. Another tissue is plucked as his eyes begin to water, nostrils flaring with reckless abandon. Never just one. 

“kTChh’uew! hh’iTChh –uew! Tihhckles… eTCHh! etchh’uh! hiehh–” 

The last one toys with him, tracing the rims of his nostrils, back up his sinuses, a gentle itch that seems to burn against every inch of his nose. Finally, with a desperate gasp, Tim ducks into his wrist for the last, “heh’ATChhh –iew!” 

“Many blessings. Sounds like you need them,” Sasha offers with a wince, tossing another pack of tissues over, which Tim catches with a single hand, the other still gripping his nose. 

After taking a moment to clean himself up, Tim shoots her his signature smile, ignoring the eye roll she shoots back. “Where was I?” 

“Admitting this is karma?” 

“It’s not karma, it’s lack of common sense. Going to a party where a coworker is sick, and still drinking and eating the same meals” Tim says, aiming a rough cough into his sleeve. 

Sasha winces once more at the quality of the cough, hands rummaging through her drawers once more as she tosses a reply back. “And yet you’re the only one who caught it. Seems like karma to me.” 

Closing the distance between them in a single stride, Sasha places a hand on Tim’s shoulder, voice softening. “It’s two days till new years, why don’t you go home and try to get some rest? I doubt Martin will object, and I’ll cover for you with Jon.” 

Before Tim can form his rebuttal, Sasha places a box of paracetamol and a jar of vapor rub in front of him. Nodding his thanks, Tim lets out another harsh cough into his arm, leaning as far away from Sasha as he can manage. 

With a light rub to his shoulder, Sasha walks to the door, holding it open with a pointed look. “Go home, you sound awful.” 

“Alright, alright. I got the message. hH’ETchhiew!” Tim says, gathering his care package and beginning his walk down the hallway. 

“If I hear the rest of that fit happening in this building, I’m telling Martin how ill you really are,” Sasha calls after him, a smile flashing over her face as Tim holds up his hands in mock surrender, before ducking back into his arm with another muffled burst. 

— 

“You look horrible.” 

Tim manages a weary smile from behind the tightly wound scarf. “Thagk you.” 

Martin winces, standing in the doorframe, seemingly oblivious to the winter chill soaking into Tim’s bones. Even just the walk from the train station was hell on earth, standing out here is doing him no favours. 

Turning away with a throat scraping cough, Tim manages to clear the congestion enough to finish the sentence somewhat understandably. A great feat, given how fast his voice is retreating. “May I remind you that I’m only here because you insisted.” 

“Right, well I… I didn’t know how bad-” Martin begins, realizing spreading across his face like a wildfire as a chill leaves Tim breathless. “Oh god, I’m making you freeze to death while you’re already this sick, I’m so sorry, come in, I’ll go make you a tea.” 

Tim nods his thanks as he piles inside the warm institute, cursing his aching lungs as each breath of warm air seems to burn them from the inside out. Martin rushes away, nearly crashing into a few researchers as he makes his frantic dash for the kitchen. 

The scarf is reluctantly removed, a shudder running through Tim’s back as the warm air does nothing to soothe what he’s now certain is a growing fever. A few researchers wave to him, offering some idle chit-chat as he makes his way inside.

For the most part, people give him a wide berth, apparently he looks as bad as he feels. Tissues in hand, gripping them like a lifeline, Tim finds his way to a couch and lets himself sink into it. The party buzzes around him, fading into background noise. 

Martin returns soon after, the mug vibrating slightly as he attempts to steady his hand. “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d want, we have a pretty limited amount, but I have a few extras in my desk– oh I could have probably found one for colds and flus, I’m not sure which this is, I thought cold before but you look-” 

“Martin,” Tim interrupts, voice cutting uncomfortably through his raw throat. “Can I have the cup?” 

“Oh, right, sorry!” Martin says, a sheepish grin crossing his face, nerves more than anything else, as he hands Tim the mug. Tim gives another appreciative nod, taking a cautious sip. 

The warm liquid feels like heaven against his throat, and he barely manages to choke back a whimper. The flavour is still a mystery, Martin never actually got to that part. Given how little he can taste at the moment, seems it’s gonna remain that way. Still, the heat beginning to warm his chest is a welcome relief, and Tim has to fight to keep his eyes from drifting shut…

“Watch out!” 

The voice rouses him, his eyes snapping open just in time to witness Jon dropping to his knees in front of the couch. The realization doesn’t sink in for another minute, Tim blinking the tired from his eyes and trying to figure out why people are staring… and why there’s a hand on his finge– 

Oh, the tea. Thankfully Jon’s reflexes seemed to kick in just in time, his hands guiding Tim’s cup to the table next to him. Judgement clouds the boss's eyes as he turns back, fully ready to chastise Tim, no doubt. Jon opens his mouth, one hand beginning to point, but as his eyes scan Tim’s form, his demeanor changes instantly. 

“You don’t seem well.” Jon’s voice is still firm, but with a hint of something Tim can’t quite place. On anyone else, he’d call it concern. On Jon… perhaps concern isn’t far off, though the underlying criticism of the statement irritates him. 

“I wonder why that could be? It’s almost as if someone came to the Christmas party sick enough to fall asleep standing. Twice.” Tim says, sarcasm lining his words, alongside the congestion he can’t seem to fully shake. 

“Well in that case,” Sasha chimes in, cheerful voice a natural antithesis to the misery coursing through Tim’s system. “Seems you’re halfway there!” 

“Hey, I was lying down, that’s hardly the sahh… same thing– hH’ETchh!” 

“Here we go,” Sasha says, already turning on her heel to find a tissue box as Tim’s hitches increase in desperation. 

“aHTChh’ew! gn’tchhew!” 

“Bless,” Jon offers, a brief confusion crossing his face as Sasha laughs, shaking her head. 

“He’s not done,” She says, handing over the tissue box. 

Tim grabs for it blindly, too caught up in the fit to even attempt dignity. Still, the eyes on him do leave him with a hint of embarrassment, and the onslaught is muffled as best he can manage. “hH’MMpshhew! eMPFShh’ieh! hh’MFSHhueh!” 

Blessings sound out from the room, Tim managing to wave a hand towards the ones offering them, eyes still watering. As the fit seems to stall, he lowers his tissues, red nose now visibly twitching. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks, the hint of concern from before now plainly evident. That’s frankly more alarming than it should be, and Tim finds himself wanting to… reassure the boss. 

“I’m okay, it’s juhh… j-just… huhh–” But it seems his nose has other plans, a tissue being raised once more as Tim paws at the appendage. “‘Scuhhse me, I still have… hahhve to… to… hiHh– eTCHh’ew! hk’ASCHh–oo!” 

This time the tickle fades with the final pitchy sneeze, Tim letting out a low groan as he mashes his nose into the ever growing collection of tissues he’s clutching. A few people call out final blessings, Sasha laughing out hers as Tim’s face goes red once more. 

Martin picks this time to enter the room with drinks, Tim letting his eyes flutter shut as the focus shifts off his misery. A gentle touch keeps him from drifting off to sleep, prying open an eye to find Sasha settling onto his left. 

“Careful, don’t want to catch this,” Tim manages, leaning against his right shoulder to muffle another stream of chesty coughs. Sasha winces as it goes on past the realm of comfort, her hand finding his back. 

“Don’t worry about me, I haven’t earned this cold, I didn’t make use of Jon’s or your suffering,” She says, the playful tone not masking the growing worry in her posture. 

While she can read him like a book, she’s no mystery to him either. The tension in her fingers, absentmindedly stroking patterns on his back. The way she subconsciously tries to support his body weight, despite them both sitting. The look in her eyes when he manages to stall the coughing long enough to meet them. 

With this brief respite from the attack, Sasha takes the chance to bring Tim’s tea back, his fingers wrapping around the warm mug. The first few sips burn, his lungs protesting, begging to return to their efforts to expel all the irritation. By the third, however, the warmth is spreading once more, easing the spasms. 

“Alright?” Sasha asks, beginning to stand from the couch. Tim nods his reply, taking another slow sip. “Think you’ll make it till midnight? We’ve still got a few hours to go.” 

He nods his approval again, not yet trusting his voice enough to make an attempt. Sasha simply smiles, easing back into the party that– Tim had almost forgotten existed. That fever must be worse than he thought, given how loud it is. A fact that’s now pounding against his head in harmony with his heartbeat. 

The party continues on, Sasha and Martin taking turns checking in on Tim as he slips rapidly in and out of consciousness. Seconds turn to hours, and before he knows it, it’s two minutes to midnight. 

As Tim blinks against the harsh fluorescent lighting, it’s Jon that stands before him, hand hovering near his side. Tim begins to speak, breaking off into a cough as his voice comes out rough with sleep and congestion. 

“What’s up boss?” He manages with the second attempt, not missing Jon’s wince at the nasal quality. 

“You simply look… well, the festivities are nearly over, I was just inquiring as to…” Jon seems to get stuck, eyes wandering down to the couch as he finishes. “I know you took the train here, I was seeing if you needed an escort home.” 

“How kind, I’d be delighted to have your accompaniment,” Tim responds, the wit clouding the fact he… hadn’t actually considered needing to go home. Jon seems to take this answer as satisfactory, ignoring all the sarcasm as he gives a tight nod and an out of practice smile. 

From across the room Martin calls out, something about a countdown. Tim attempts to pull himself to a stand, finding Sasha’s arm around his waist, guiding him to the wall. Leaning against it, he lets his rough voice join the chorus as they count into the new year. 

Despite how the lights and noise had pounded into his skull, everyone chanting in unison helps Tim realize that… there actually aren’t that many people here. Aside from his coworkers, there’s only a few researchers, and Elias is not in attendance.

Honestly, thank whatever cosmic being may exist for that one, he had been none too fond of Jon’s arriving sick. Tim shudders to think what he would have said about this state. He shouldn’t have come, but… something about how insistent Martin was… well he just couldn’t disappoint that loveable idiot. 

Somehow Tim finds he’s managed to keep up with the counting, despite being worlds away in his thoughts. As they approach the final numbers, a feathery sensation begins to spread through his nostrils- no. 

Absolutely not, this is not the time. It’s never just one, there’s not enough people here, someone’s gonna notice. And I mean, it’s not like he’s hiding the fact he feels like death, but… drawing that much attention is also not the goal. 

“Five! Four!”

“hiehh- h’ngTchh!” He manages to stifle the first, the congestion pounding in his head as the tickle seems to only get worse. 

“Three! Two!” 

“I cad’t– nNDtch! nGTCh’uh!” 

“One–” 

As the cheers begin to erupt, Tim ducks into the tissues with a scraping, “ehg’TCHhiew!” 

“Happy new years!” 

“yiEShh’iew! etchh’uh! hH’AESHH –oo!” Tim dips into his hands again, managing to sink down against the wall as he lets out a congested blow, ending the fit.

“What a way to ring in the new year,” Comes Sasha’s voice, her form blocking the light from Tim’s eyes as he looks up, fever blurring his vision.

“Shud ub.” 

“Christ Tim, you sound awful,” Jon adds, his form appearing behind Sasha’s. 

“Thagks boss,” Tim retorts, groaning as he notices a third form, Martin’s nervous fidgeting easy to spot even from this angle. Martin remains silent, though his eyes seem to hold more concern than any of them, and… guilt? Or maybe that’s just the delirium. 

Glancing up to meet Sasha’s gaze, Tim offers a weary, “Tibe to go hobe?” 

She nods softly, kneeling to help him to his feet, Martin wordlessly taking his other arm. Jon stands off to the side, hesitating. What for, who knows. All Tim can focus on is one step after the other, just gotta make it home, then he can sleep. For the rest of forever, at this rate. 

As they get to the door, Martin helps wrap the scarf around Tim’s neck, forcing him to lift it from its perch against Sasha’s shoulder. Sasha, for her part, supports his weight with ease, she was always stronger than she looked. 

Martin keeps casting glances towards Tim, obviously fretting over something. Too tired to manage his usual charm, Tim gives Martin the softest look he can manage. “Jusd say id, please. You’re makigg me nervous.”

“I’m so sorry I asked you to come, you’re obviously so unwell, and I know I didn’t really know that at the time, but I should have, or at least texted and checked in, I just… I wanted us all to get along so bad and I thought if you came it would mean more fun because you’re always so lively and good at talking to people and-” 

Tim holds up a hand, eyes glazing over as Martin stops short, breath coming almost as rapidly as Tim’s. After a minute goes by, Martin starts to open his mouth, seeming confused by the interruption, before nearly jumping out of his skin as Tim ducks into his fist. 

“eTCHh’ew! hH’YEAShh –iew! Sorry, I feld those cobigg… waid– hih’ETCHhew! heAYSHh’oo!” Tim ducks down again, Sasha grabbing him tighter to support the harsh shudders as he attempts to keep his balance. 

“Oh bless you,” Martin offers, voice coming out timid. Tim gives him, what he hopes is, a warm smile despite the fever taking hold of the last corners of his mind.

“If I didn’t wanna cobe, I would have stayed hobe. I dod’t blame you.” 

Martin nods silently, a relief seeming to flood his face. Taking his place once more supporting Tim, they move towards the exit. Opening the door, the first wave of cold floods the entryway, and a chill so violent runs through Tim that both Martin and Sasha take a step back to brace him. 

It’s now that Jon speaks up, voice strained with a type of worry Tim hadn’t heard before. “No, we’re absolutely not doing this, I refuse.” 

The trio turn towards him. Though perhaps a more accurate description is that Martin and Sasha turn, Tim simply goes along for the ride. Martin mumbles something about ‘no other choice’, but Sasha asks what Jon’s on about. 

“It’s too cold out there, it’s the middle of the damn night, there’s no way I’m letting him go home like this.” 

“And what do you suggest we do as an alternative? He can’t stay here-” Sasha begins, pausing as Jon turns towards her. 

“Why not? I’m the archivist, this is my archive,” Jon begins, pausing for a moment, before adding, “Well, Elias’s, but I hardly think he’d suggest we send an employee home in this weather while they’re this sick. That’s just bad management, he’ll freeze to death before even reaching the train.” 

As if to confirm this assumption, Tim shudders violently, ducking into his chest with a tired, “hh’eshhew! eTCHh’iew!” followed by a heavy sigh. Martin mumbles something about covering, but quickly silences himself as Tim begins to tremble again. 

Sasha gives Jon a look, seeming to read him for any hints of doubt, perhaps searching for an ulterior motive. After a brief pause, their eyes meeting, she gives a tight nod, approval of some kind. 

“Come on Martin, let’s get him back to that couch, he can sleep there for the night,” Sasha directs, Martin nodding his acceptance. 

Tim manages to catch snippets of the conversation as they get him settled. Jon fetching him a blanket he keeps in his office. Martin providing some more tea. Sasha grabbing tissues and medication for when he wakes up. Something about Jon sleeping in his office so he’s not alone, and Sasha coming in early to help him home. 

With his final bout of consciousness, Tim holds up a hand, the conversation immediately pausing. “Thagk you guys. And… esSHhh’ew! And, I’b sorry.” 

All three stare at him for a minute, before Sasha breaks first. Her laughter fills the silence, Martin joining in soon after, and even Jon letting a few chuckles slip out. When they’ve finally collected themselves, Sasha gives Tim a warm smile. 

“Sleep well, Tim. I’ll come fetch you in the morning.” 

With a content sigh, Tim lets his eyes drift shut again, his consciousness fading to the soft hum of his friends in the background. 

Alright, so maybe coddling isn’t quite so bad after all.

[blackjackkent]

OK, need to run GW2 events tonight so leaving it there for the time being, but whew what a day for Rakha. XD And I'm getting the distinct impression it's only going to get worse from here.

Last time when I went through Act 2's finale with Hector, I had like two weeks off of work to focus on it; tragically that is not the case for Rakha and in fact this coming week is likely to be another very stressful one, but I *do* have Thursday off for Independence Day, woohoo. So even slightly more Rakha adventures than usual to come in the near future. XD

[unriding]

Me sneaking into your asks with this drabble:

Disclaimer: I have yet to get a good grasp of Moze's character so this might be a bit OOC and on your side as well (sorry). I did my best. Also, this was inspired by the post you made abt telling Moze your tasks for the day | 600+ words (not proofread)

.

.

.

In Moze's eyes, you reminded him of a dog catching a case of the zoomies.

You were quite literally everywhere. He'd find you talking to someone one moment before you're rushing off to do something else entirely the next. It seemed like you had quite a lot on your plate as of recently. Tasks, things you wanted to do, and so much more spinning around that mind of yours. You've told him a bit of your plans so he has a general idea. But seeing you juggling all of those tasks at once makes both admiration and concern bloom in his chest.

One time, Moze found you carrying a box filled with items. It would've been amusing to him how comical it was that the items piled so high— he could barely see you behind it. However, he did worry right after given how you almost tripped over something. He managed to catch you and the items before both came crashing all over the floor.

He insisted on helping you carry the items to wherever its destination was. It took a bit of pursuasion on his side. Convincing you that it truly wasn't a bother to him at all, and that he'd be very much glad to be of assistance to you.

"I need to get these delivered first. Then go stop by the shop to buy some things. After that…" You go on to ramble about the things you had to do to help get a better vision on what else you had to do. "Oh, no… I messed up." The smile on your face dropping at the thought that had slipped your mind until that moment. "I forgot to invite Jiaoqiu to dinner with the others—"

"It's tomorrow evening, right? He knows. I mentioned it last time when I spoke to him." Moze says with a calm tone.

You blink at him, slightly caught off-guard by the man beside you. Though it's immediately replaced with relief and gratitude. The smile on your face already back, lighting up your features once more. Infectious as always, it makes the corners of his lips tug upwards as well. A small part of him feels quite proud to have been able to help you ease your worries even by a bit.

And this is when you start noticing it.

Did you mention that you're running out of a certain skincare product, but you can't find the time to stop by the store to buy it? Moze conveniently has to stop by near the store and buys it for you. Did you also mention that you wanted to do a certain task but keep forgetting about it? He gently reminds you about it via message or verbal if he's nearby. Did you also happen to mention that you've been meaning to try out a certain desert from a cafe, but the schedule simply doesn't seem to allow you? No fear, he passes by the store to buy you the treat.

Moze doesn't see you as someone incapable of handling things by yourself. To him, he simply sees it as a way to show his care. If making a quick stop somewhere, sending you a small reminder of something you had to do that day, or even helping you out with the tasks you need to accomplish, makes you smile? Gives you a chance to take a break? Let you worry less about the things you need to do? It's worth it in his eyes.

He does his best to avoid making you feel like you're bothering or troubling him (you really aren't). Most of the time, he does them discrcetly and casually. Partially, since he's also scared that you'll think he's weird or a creep for acting like that.

Please don't think of him badly.

Moze truly means well.

[naffeclipse]

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

for the most part I actually don’t see Harry and Draco as being the get married types or at least not the have a wedding types but it’s also fun to just. Have them do it anyway. Weddings are fun and fun to write and read about!

[finalgirlgretchen]

[malachitezmeyka]

Ever since I first read Eugene Onegin two years ago, and even more now that I had to reread it for school recently, I've been saying that I've never related to a fictional character more than I relate to Tatyana Larina (not counting my own characters, that is, as they are intentional projections). Particularly the verses about Tatyana's childhood hit very close to home. I've been wanting to talk about it for a while but couldn't find a translation of the book that I liked. So, instead of sleeping, I spent 2 hours absolutely torturing my own brain by coming up with my own translation and I'm way too proud not to share.

Eugene Onegin, chapter 2, verses 25, 26 and 27, translated with the original temp and rhyming scheme intact, by yours truly <3

—

XXV

And so, her sister's named Tatyana.

She seldom catches someone's gaze,

Lacks Olga's beauty, lacks her glamour,

The pink-cheeked freshness of her face.

She's almost feral, quiet with woe,

So quick to startle, like a doe.

And even in her family home

She seemed a child not quite their own.

She hardly ever showed affection,

Both mom and dad would often say.

By window she would spend her day

Alone but for her own reflection,

She judged the children running wild,

Though she herself was still a child.

XXVI

Imagination was her friend

From infancy. As village days

Kept dragging on without an end,

She'd get lost in her fantasies.

Needle and thread she too avoided,

Fabric was never once embroidered

By her unblemished fingers, for

She found needlework a bore.

An average girl would take her doll,

Sit down with it and start to talk,

Prepare it for the time to walk

Into an upper class grand ball –

To silent dolls during these sessions

Young girls repeat their mothers' lessons.

XXVII

Tatyana never had discussions

With dolls, nor did she play with them;

She never told them of the fashions,

Of city news, and even then

Of toys and games she was quite wary,

She'd rather read of something scary.

In winters, in the dead of night,

Her heart learned how to take a fright.

When for young Olga their old nanny

Would gather up the neighbours' kids

To run and play out in the fields,

Tatyana would act most uncanny:

She never played or ran around,

And found their laughter far too loud.

—

[that-was-anticlimactic]

all fluttering and dancing in the breeze

🍃written for @nobamaki-bigbang🍃

“Great! Okay, so I’m assuming we all know how to play baseball, right?” Maki asked.

Everyone was nodding, and Nobara was about to scoff and say duh, was about to proudly announce that she was actually a fantastic baseball player. But…

But then she glanced at Maki—sweet, gorgeous, Maki with a determined fire blazing in her eyes—and she had an idea. A terrible, devious, but quite possibly genius idea.

“Um, actually,” she spoke up, much louder than necessary, “actually, I, uh… I don’t know how to play baseball.” She fluttered her eyelids and smiled shyly, grabbing a strand of her hair and twirling it around her fingers as if she were the epitome of innocence.

[or: nobara pretends that she doesn't know how to play baseball so she can spend time/flirt with maki]

🍃11,157 words | nobamaki🍃

🍃art on tumblr here & here🍃

🍃art on twitter here & here🍃

[nikialexx]

(slightly long and personal post, which was initially meant to be me explaining/apologizing for the delay in responding to my comments on ao3, but turned into... this... instead. It's under the cut for anyone who wants to read :)

recently (and by 'recently' i mean it's been over a year) it's been very very hard for me to summon the motivation to do... anything. Even the things I used to love, such as reading, writing, engaging in fandom, baking, playing the sims, occasionally watching a show or a movie... it's all been so unbearably hard. There were some real-life situations that contributed to this, most of which are thankfully in the past now, but the state of nothingness that I've found myself in has yet to fully fade away. I'm doing better (i read a book! an entire book! i can't remember the last time i did that!!) but there are still days where it just feels hard.

And It's like... I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but the process of getting through the tunnel is so dark and painful and lonely.

This entire post was inspired by me feeling guilty about not responding to my ao3 comments. i used to love responding to my ao3 comments. but now, whenever i even think about opening the website for any reason, i just feel... anxious. I can't even open the website to read the comments on there- I read them in my email instead because that feels less daunting.

I'm still writing, although some days (most days) it's harder than it used to be, a constant uphill battle where it used to be the easiest thing in the world for me to do. But I'm not writing nearly as much as I used to, which means I'm not posting as much as I used to or would like to. And it feels awful. For me, writing was always my *thing*. it was coming home. it was my favorite thing about myself. and not having that (or atleast, not having it in the way that I used to) has been really hard, and it's felt like a piece of me is literally gone. Like I'm missing some fundamental aspect of who I am as a person. Some days (most days) i feel like a shell of who I used to be.

And, to reiterate, I am getting better. It's just happening very slowly. And while I can look at the overall picture and say 'yeah... things are good', there are still the in-between moments of silence and darkness where I just don't know what to do with myself.

This is all very dramatic, but really, I just wanted to get my thoughts down (and also apologize, in the most melodramatic way possible, for not responding to my comments).

I spent a good chunk of the past year pretending I was okay, and refusing to even acknowledge that I was depressed because that felt like such a big, self-important word. But admitting it and accepting it is what led to me being able to work on getting through it. And now I'm doing better. So. Just wanted to share. If you happen to be feeling the same way, you're not alone :)

(also i will respond to my ao3 comments eventually. i promise i will. and thank you for leaving them. I read them all and I love them <3)

[mutalune]

hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

[allylikethecat]

Get excited! I actually finished another oneshot for tomorrow...