#im never gonna get to writing that fanfic

[uceyliyahh]

FRIENDS

Summary: “Heart on your sleeve like you've never been loved,” After being in an abusive relationship Imani decided to close herself off until she gets drafted over to the Raw Brand bumping into her best friend Jimmy as she started to catch feelings for him, but will her heart let her fall for him?

Jimmy Uso x Imani Blackwood

word count: 3879

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

Again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @ctinadiva @celesteheartsjey @duhitzkay380 @luuvprincess @bunnnyyys @mzv11 @nbanenefrmdao @xbriexx @prettyfilmz @usoinked

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @clubsoft @sharmelasworld @mjonthetrack @serenity-noble @alyyaanna @animellver

@hunnidmilly @ctinadiva @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @theusotwinzcom @bossbitch-22

Ø5

FLASHBACK 5 Imani wrapped up her match, surrounded by the sound of cheers from the crowd. She had initially felt uncertain, wondering if the people watching would support her. To her delight, they did, and that filled her with a deep sense of joy and validation.

After her match, Imani entered the locker room and opened her locker, gathering her belongings. She was eager to head home for the night, as she had no intention of staying for the main event; her focus was on creating music back at the studio.

"You not gonna stay for the main event?" Zilla asked causing Imani to flinch while turning around seeing him standing there.

"Jesus, Isayah you can't be scaring folks like that. I thought about it," She said.

"I mean you can stay and go home afterwards, don't worry about Jordan and his boys trying to get you Imani just know I got your back fasho," he said as Imani smiled at him while nodding her head.

"A'ight, I guess I can stay who's going against who?"

Zilla laughs at her comment about him pursuing the title tonight, and Imani feels a surge of excitement for him, wishing him luck as they both step out of the locker room together.

"I like that moonsault you be doing though Mani, it looks cool as hell,"

"It took a lot of practice to perfect it without feeling like I was going to break my damn neck," Imani replied as she was eating her dinner in the front row seats since the place was small.

"I can tell, have you been keeping touch with Jey and them?"

Imani shook her head in dismay. Ever since her family relocated to a new state because of her father's job, she had lost touch with everyone, including not having their phone numbers anymore.

"Nah, I haven't talked to them in a while. It would be nice though to see them," She said.

"I mean can send out a message to them, we suppose to be having a family outing soon."

Imani fondly recalls the moments when her parents would allow her to visit the Fatu's home to enjoy the company of Jimmy and Jey during family gatherings. Their mother always ensured she had a hearty meal before she left, making those times truly special.

"It's fine I'll probably run into soon or one day,"

FLASHBACK OVER.

JIMMY I was at the gym with my twin brother, working on some bench press reps while he stood by to spot me, ensuring my safety. As I focused on my sets, I suddenly heard him asking me something.

"So, Uce. What's goin' on between you and Imani?" Jey asked.

"She's given herself three weeks to figure out if she's going to keep runnin' from me or let me love her correctly," I said while focusing on my reps.

"If she's runnin' from you do you know the reasoning behind that?"

I paused in the middle of my set, setting the equipment on the rail as I sat up on the bench and turned to look at him. "yeah, she told me why. And I told her she can do allat with me you know I'm not goin to hurt her,"

Imani may try to escape from this situation, but I will always pursue her, regardless of the challenges we face. I am determined that she will be with me, and I truly believe that. I understand her fears and her hesitation to open her heart again, but I promise that my love will be a different experience for her.

"I lay it out there for her what it is and what it ain't, so if she wants to keep runnin' I don't mind chasing." I responded while shrugging my shoulders hearing my brother chuckling at me.

"Mane, you a trip for real dawg. Then what about Trin then? You know she's goin to find out eventually about this,"

"Let her find out about me and Imani I don't care, she wasn't making me happy anyways. I always hated playing pretend in front of the fam Uce it started to become draining, and then her wanting sex every single time shit get bad mmcht was so tiring I don't get that feeling when I'm with Imani," I expressed to him.

I couldn't keep pretending about my feelings anymore. The constant ups and downs with Trin made it incredibly difficult to put on a brave face during family gatherings. Whenever people asked how we were doing, we would just say we were fine, but deep down, I knew I wasn't truly happy.

Seeing Imani at our last family gathering was an overwhelming experience; it felt like a jolt of electricity ran through me, leaving me with goosebumps. She looked absolutely stunning and radiant, especially after not having seen her for so long since her move. When we found ourselves alone together, I struggled to contain my feelings—she is far too precious for someone like Jordan to ever lay a hand on her.

"I understand you fasho Uce, I could tell that you weren't yourself until Imani showed up. I saw that spark in your eyes that I haven't seen in a while."

"I don't know what it is but...Imani has that effect on me so bad...like down bad..I'll do anything for her you know?"

"I can tell you can't keep yo' hands off of the poor thing, just dicking her down every single chance when you get to see her huh?" I pushed him while chuckling as we both began laughing with each other.

I really missed her and was wishing she would reach out to invite me over or something. It's been a while since I visited her at the studio, and I haven't heard from her since then. I hope she's doing okay. I think I'll reach out to her soon just to check in.

"But enough with allat, c'mon so you can spot me uce." Jey said as I rolled my eyes at him while we switched places.

After returning from the gym, I was relaxing at home and scrolling through my social media when I noticed Imani had shared something on her story. She looked absolutely stunning, and I couldn't help but quickly react by liking her post. Just seeing her made my heart race, but I managed to keep my composure.

I could hear Trinity's voice echoing as she made her way down the stairs, her footsteps heavy and determined. She approached me, playfully weaving between my legs while I looked up at her.

"What's up Trin?" I asked.

"Where do you be going after work?" She questioned me as I raised an eyebrow at her.

I didn't want to hide the truth from her about my plans after work. I do spend time with Imani, my best friend, and it's natural for me to be with her often.

"I be with Imani, I'm not finna lie to you Trin. If that's what you wanted me to do ." She let out a bitter laugh at my remark, wishing I would fabricate a story about where I had been, just to stir up some drama, fully aware of how exhausting this situation can be.

"That figures because you smell like her every single time you come home, are you fucking her?" And there it was the question about me fucking her which caused me to chuckle a little bit. "No, I'm not fucking her Trin. I'm only spending time with her that's all." I said lying through my teeth knowing damn well I be fucking her shit in.

She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly unconvinced by my lie. It felt as though she had already figured out the answer to her own question. So why did she feel the need to ask me about what was happening between Imani and me at this moment?

"If you're here just to start some shit Trin, I'm not here for it aight? I'm tired of this on and off shi," she had scoffed at me while rolling her eyes.

"I know you're fucking her! I mean who spends a lot of time with their best friend in the middle of the night?"

"She's working on her new singles album and she just wanted some support Trin what else is there to say?"

"Some support or some dick from you?"   I was taken aback by her unexpected outburst. Even though I had been expecting this moment, it still left me feeling uneasy. I stood up from the couch and headed upstairs, recognizing that I just didn’t have the strength to face the situation at that moment.

She trailed behind me up the stairs, her words spilling out carelessly as I chose to remain silent. Entering our shared bedroom, I felt a wave of frustration wash over me, as if I were carrying a heavy burden of unexpressed anger within.

I silenced her by gently holding her throat, pressing her back onto the bed, my legs positioned between hers, fully aware that this was what she desired from me.

"What you want from me huh?" I asked gazing deeply into her eyes.

She had a smirk on her face knowing that she had me right where she wanted me to be, "I want you to fuck me and forget about her you know that we are meant for each other regardless of what people say," I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her comment, but to steer clear of any more chatter or her endless talking, I leaned in and kissed her. Our lips met passionately as we lost ourselves in the moment.

As we were making out with each other I pulled her shorts down along with her panties beginning to rub her wet folds causing her to moan at my touch.

"This is what you wanted right Trin? Lemme' do all of the work,"

ೃ⁀➷

IMANI I recently spent some time with my best friend Kehlani at NXT, wanting to reconnect and share everything that's been going on in my life. I really needed her insight regarding my situation with Jimmy, especially since I felt lost about what to do once these three weeks are over. To be honest, I've been avoiding him because I've never encountered someone like Jimmy before—he just acts so unpredictably, and it's been overwhelming for me.

I sat in Kehlani's locker room, scrolling through my timeline, when I heard the door creak open. I looked up to see Kehlani chatting with Jaida. A smile spread across my face as I watched her break away from Jaida and rush towards me.

"Oh my god! What are you doing here?" Kehlani gasped as we separated from one another.

"I had to come see my best friend whoop some ass tonight right? And besides I got a day off today so I didn't want to miss anything," I said.

"Oh, I love you so much. But Imani this is Jaida and Jaida this is Imani my best friend I've been telling you about," she introduce us as me and Jaida shook hands with each other.

"Girl, you have to tell me everything like now."

I couldn't help but laugh a little as she told Jaida she'd catch up with her later. I began to share everything that's been going on while I've been away for so long, including finally seeing Jimmy and the others, but then I paused for a moment.

"What happened Mani?" She asked.

I sighed softly, " Jon and I are navigating a situation after we shared a kiss during their family outing, and he's someone I haven't encountered in this way before, Lani." I explained before continuing on.

She raised an eyebrow at me in confusion, "so what's the problem bestie?"

"He's with Trinity and I kept telling him that it was so wrong to do this behind her back but he was so adamant about it, and he's different but I don't think I'm ready to handle something like that he makes me so nervous and flustered every single time he's around Lani...I'm just running from him."

"Girl, is this the same Jonathan Fatu we are talking about?" I nodded my head fiddling with my fingers as she patted my back. "Mani, you can't be running away from a good man like him I know he's dealing with Trin but if he's showing you that he wants you then there's no reason for you to be running," she said.

Kehlani had a point in her words. I realized that if I kept pushing him away, he would eventually grow weary of the chase I was putting him through. Yet, I found myself uncertain about whether I was truly ready to let go.

 Navigating my relationship with Jordan and his manipulative behavior took a significant toll on me, especially on my mental well-being. It felt as though he had no genuine concern for me; his primary focus seemed to be exerting control over my life. It was truly distressing, and I found it unbearable.

"I never dealt with someone like Jimmy Lani," I said.

"You've been knowing him since high school Mani, what's the problem?"

I sighed, "I never dealt with a man that wanted me as much as I wanted them and it scares me because he's so different from Jordan and every single time I'm with him it's like my brain malfunction,"

"Mani, you should be able to let new things happen instead of running away constantly and that's your problem you always run away when something good happens whenever things get bad," she said.

It's true what she said; I tend to retreat when things start to go well. I made a promise to myself, and I often wonder how different things might have been if I hadn't moved away as a teenager. Maybe Jimmy and I would have connected instantly, but there were factors beyond my control that shaped my path.

Kehlani knew me better than anyone well except for Jimmy and Them, I wasn't sure if I wanted this to happen between him and I.

"I don't want to look stupid Lani, that's all I'm worried about right now it's bad enough Jordan embarrassed me who knows what Jimmy can do."

I was just about to say something when I received a notification from Instagram. Someone had sent me a message in my DMs. When I opened it, I was surprised to see a picture from Trinity, showing them and someone else in what appeared to be an elevator. It really caught me off guard.

trinity_fatu: this is all mine so little girl you better back tf off of this one 😘

I felt really unsettled by that message. It made me wonder if she was aware of what was going on between him and me. Was she trying to provoke jealousy on purpose? I can't deny that I felt a twinge of jealousy, but I know I shouldn't. The truth is, he isn't mine, and I don't belong to him—it's as straightforward as that.

Kehlani noticed the shift in my expression, which turned frustrating. I really didn't want to find myself caught up in drama with his girlfriend.

"Was that Trin? Let me see," she said as I showed her the message that Trinity had sent me.

I saw her facial expression changed into as she looked at the picture then the message that Trinity had sent me. "You see why I'm running away from him, I don't need all of this drama between her and I Lani...it's just too much,"

"Mani, don't run away from him. Just talk to him okay?" I nodded my head listening to her as me and her hugged each other.

Kehlani was heading toward the gorilla for her match tonight, and I couldn't help but let out a deep sigh as I read the message, fully aware of the challenges that awaited me with this man.

I just ignored her message, rolling my eyes as I got up from the couch. I made my way to the locker room, heading to my front-row seat. As I was doing that, I received a text from Jimmy, and I couldn't help but let out a deep sigh, feeling reluctant to respond to him.

Big Jim😩 sent a message

Big Jim😩: You good mamas? I haven't heard from you all day just checking in.

I haven't received any messages from him all day. It's amusing to think he was likely with her the entire time. I just left him on read, shaking my head in disbelief.

ೃ⁀➷

After watching Kehlani's match and the main event tonight, I made the decision to head home. I completely overlooked the fact that Jimmy had texted me, but honestly, I wasn't too concerned about it. He should really be focusing on Trinity instead of reaching out to me.

As I neared my apartment, I noticed a car I recognized parked in the lot. A wave of anxiety washed over me as I silently hoped it wasn't Jimmy, ready to confront me about my lack of response to his texts. I switched off my car and gathered my belongings from the back, the sound of my keys jingling echoing in the quiet as I made my way up the steps to my apartment door.

I was caught off guard when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. When I turned around, there was Jimmy, and I instinctively shot him a disapproving glance, rolling my eyes at his unexpected arrival.

"What you want Jimmy?" I questioned firmly as I opened the door to my apartment, realizing that allowing him inside was my first misstep.

As I closed the door behind us, I walked past him, setting my belongings down on the couch. I made my way to the kitchen, intending to prepare something to eat, while he remained still, his gaze fixed on me, as if he were captivated by my every move.

"What's up with this attitude mamas? You left me on read," he responded as I scoffed at him.

"Nigga, we aren't together so what's is there to discuss right now? Shouldn't you be with Trin right now?" As I seasoned the salmon with a blend of spices, I couldn't help but respond with a bit of sass before placing it in the air fryer.

I felt his footsteps approaching from behind, and suddenly, he took hold of me by the back of my throat, forcing me to meet his gaze while my body was pinned against him. "Fix yourself before I do sweetheart,"

"Jonathan, I'm not dealing with this with you. I told you the last time we seen each other,"

Jimmy shook his head, "why are you being like this with me Mani when I wanted to check up on you?"

I stood there with my arms crossed, glancing at the timer on the air fryer, and then I gently pushed him away as I met his gaze.

"Should've thought about that before fucking her, and then have her ass text me some bullshit," Jimmy raised an eyebrow at me in confusion of what I was talking about at the moment, I let out a deep sigh as I walked over to the couch, pulling my phone from my purse. I turned it towards him to show the message she had sent, along with the picture.

He met my gaze, and I could tell he recognized my frustration. I had tried to warn him about this, but he had chosen to ignore my concerns.

"I didn't know she was going to text you Imani," he said.

As I was about to speak, the air fryer chimed, indicating that the food was ready. I walked by Jimmy, who was eagerly waiting, and opened the air fryer. The delightful scent of spices filled the room as I carefully removed the salmon, placing it on a plate before reaching for some hot sauce.

"It doesn't matter, I don't want this and I don't need this drama between me and her just work things out with shawty," I said.

I passed by him once more as I made my way to the living room. I settled onto the couch and switched on the television, all the while he remained there, taken aback by how I was treating him.

I was just about to enjoy my meal when I felt him pressing me back against the couch, positioning himself between my legs and looking deeply into my eyes.

He gently pressed his lips against mine, and I felt myself surrender to him as I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing him nearer until our bodies met in a warm embrace.

The kiss lingered, unfolding gently and profoundly.

I could feel his tongue exploring my mouth as my fingers tangled in his curls, craving more of him in a way I had never experienced before.

I felt his fingers entwined with mine as he pressed his lips against my neck, sending shivers through me with every kiss. I couldn't help but moan his name, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

"Tell me that you want me mamas, tell me." He murmured softly while tugging on my shirt.

I found myself lifting my shirt, revealing my black lace bra, completely losing my composure around this man, and it was driving me wild.

But was I going to break my walls down for this man?

Jimmy paused for a moment, gazing into my eyes as our foreheads touched. I noticed his lips, a soft shade of pink and red, stained from kissing my neck, leaving a noticeable mark behind.

"Tell me baby, tell me that you want me as much as I do, fuck them three weeks I want you now all to myself."

And he was serious about it too.

"Jimmy...I'm not—"

"I don't want to hear none of that Imani, when you gon' stop runnin' from me?" He cut me off as my innocent eyes looked at his seductive ones.

"I'm not though Jon...I'm just...."

I hesitated for a moment, trying to keep my emotions in check. Perhaps I wasn't prepared for the kind of love he was offering, or maybe I felt unworthy of it, especially knowing he was with someone else. I didn't want to feel overwhelmed or pressured by the situation.

"You're though, why do you keep fighting this?"

"I don't know...I literally don't know Jonathan." I said feeling him getting off of me.

I propped myself up, noticing him standing there, adjusting himself while casting a glance in my direction. His face told a story of frustration and pain, and I felt a wave of regret wash over me—I never intended for things to turn out this way. As I slipped my shirt back on, I watched him turn and walk toward the door, feeling the weight of the moment.

I caught up with him stopping him in his tracks as he looked at me. "Jon...please,"

He shook his head yanking his arm away from me, "when you figure out what you want, then you can hit me up." Jimmy said while placing a kiss on my temple before slamming the door shut.

I lean against the door, tears streaming down my cheeks as I quietly sob, struggling to stifle my cries with my hand while the hiccups start to take over.

 Am I really throwing away something valuable in my life just because I feel the urge to escape? Was this my one opportunity to experience genuine love?

Did I really just mess this up?

FRIENDS

A/n: do you think Imani will finally let Jimmy love her correctly or keep playing games with him.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

04.

[rosellerivers19]

Adult version of Miraculous Ladybug Characters: Part 1?

Now this design was taken from my Marichat angst fanfic AU but I still wanted to make fanart of an Afult version of Ladybug now in the original AU she’s like 15/16ish so it’s supposed to give a mature vibe but I wonder how she looks in this photo

[joelsflower]

you’re so vain | eddie alden x f!reader

you and eddie are roommates and work at the same newscast… but the news aren’t the only things you’re reporting together.

or

some moments sfw and nsfw between you and your ‘friend’ eddie

warnings: sexual and romantic tension, eddie is a munch, they love each other but won’t admit, funny silly goofy moods, pussy eating in public/work place (the door was locked no one saw it), protected piv… while it’s raining outside… and you make love while still not admiting your feelings… the fwb drill we all know and love

a/n: hmmm did someone ask for… fwb!eddie? ☝🏼cause i did!!!

wc: probably around 2.3k i wrote it here sorrys !

the pictures are from this post and this post by @divinesols (both highly recommended as moodboards for this btw!) and i couldn’t find the creator of the gif :/ if anyone knows pls let me know so i can tag!

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“And… cut!”

“We had a bigger audience tonight. Looks like you’ve finally managed to draw the public’s attention.” You handed Eddie a smirk and a cup of coffee while he took off his earphones.

“I always draw attention, baby” he took it and winked at you, taking a sip but immediately making a face of disgust indicating the sugar that was not there.

You knew exactly how he wanted it, but you loved pissing him off.

“And you always brings me the coffee the way you know I don’t want it,” he said as he paced to the studio’s kitchen, followed by your fast steps behind him.

“Ops! And I don’t always bring you coffee, I jus-“

“You just happened to be passing by the coffee shop. Mhmm. I know,” he mocked your tone and expressions, “and you also just happen to be thinking of me all of the time, hm?” He pinched your nose.

You gave him an annoyed look, “well, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Mr. Alden!” You said jokingly, pronouncing the “Mr. Alden” with very much cursive letters.

“Don’t call me that… At least not here.” You were always impressed by the way Eddie could manipulate the look in his eyes to translate exactly what he was thinking about. And, 99,9% he was only thinking about one thing.

Sex.

“Oh I’m not calling you that anywhere, believe me”

“Hmm, cause you rather scream my name, huh?” He raised his brows at you in a funny way, using his arms to cage your body between his and the kitchen counter while swaying a little, making you laugh in that way he loved; when your eyes squeezed together and your head hanged back with a big grin on your lips.

He just loved seeing you happy, specially if he was the reason. When was he going to admit it to you? Probably never.

“Eddie, Jesus! Not here!” Now both of you were laughing unglued his hands from your sides and pushed him away, giving him light taps on the chest.

“Alden, newsroom wants to see you.” Someone from the staff peaked from the door, causing your bodies to distance from each other at the speed of a Formula 1 car, him pretending to still put sugar on the coffee and you weirdly looking for something in the sink.

“I’ll be there in a minute, thank you,” he nodded his head, “wait for me tonight,” he smirked and taped your bum lightly, making you jump.

“Oh yeah bet on it,” you gave him a teasing tone.

“I’ll be watching you,” Eddie motioned his point and middle fingers from his eyes to yours, already by the door.

“That’s cause I always draw attention!”

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Oh… fuck-“, you tried your best to whisper half of the depravations that were slipping from your lips and to swallow the other half that were stuck in your throat.

But it was very hard when Eddie had you sitting by the end of his desk, skirt up and legs spread wide upon his shoulders so his head could sit perfectly between them.

“So sweet, princess,” his praises were muffled against your throbbing clit, both of his hands hardly squeezing the sides of your thighs. He spent the whole morning dreaming about the taste of your pussy, and by lunch he couldn’t wait anymore.

“W-we have five minutes, Ed,” your worried little mind kept you looking every 5 seconds towards the foggy glasses on his door, but this time got interrupted by your eyes screwing shut and your mouth hanging open in a silenced cry when Eddie quit the sucking in your bud to fuck your hole with his tongue.

“I- we-,” every time you tried to say something and your words died in muffled little moans and cries he sucked and fucked harder. Eating you out was for sure one of Eddie’s favorite things and making you come when you couldn’t scream or cry freely was like a reward for his tiring day.

Having the opportunity to give you pleasure and piss you off at the same time? He was in.

“C’mon baby, cum on my tongue, hm? Wanna taste my girl,” he used two of his fingers to spread your wetness all over your center before nuzzling his head back again, nose stimulating your clit while his tongue entered you hungrily, in and out, in and out, the vibrations of his moans exploding fireworks in your veins.

The man was devouring you.

You came in a quiet moan, fingers gripping Eddie’s roots while his nails dig in your upper thighs and his face drowned in your cunt. He sucked and lapped you clean, until you were too sensitive to bear anything else, “fuck, thank you, baby. Here,” he gave you a paper tower from the adjoining bathroom he had in his office and helped you put your panties and skirt back. If you didn’t already knew all too well the smirk he had on his face you’d think by that he was something that he actually wasn’t.

A gentleman.

But deep, down, he was. For you, at least.

“Can you stand?”

“You have done better performances”

“Oh of course. ‘oh, fuck! Eddie! so good! we have 5 minutes!’” he joked while pulling you in for a see you later hug and a kiss on the cheek before you could run away from him, “thanks, bub. Best lunch ever”

“You’re disgusting,” you laughed, pushing his chest and stepping towards the door.

“If I was I wouldn’t have your pussy all over my face now, would I?”

“Disgusting,” you mouthed and closed the door, not giving him time to fry your braincells that had just started working again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Shhh. Almost there, baby. You can take it, just a little more”

“So good,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips while the raindrops slipped down your window.

Your plan definitely wasn’t to end up under Eddie tonight, but the thunderstorms got louder than you thought they would. And as it always happens between the two of you, one thing led to the other, and…

“Fuck- found your spot, pretty girl? So good t’me,” Eddie was fucking you tonight. You didn’t know if it was because of the rain painting your frames with the moonlight, the fact that it’s been a little while since you’ve slept together or if he found it cute every time you shivered and gripped his biceps cause a thunder was a bit too loud.

His cock was nestled deep inside your walls, messaging your favorite spots with each thrust. He was going slow, fierce, calculated, and he had all the patience in the world.

You could feel him everywhere.

From his fingers in your scalp to his hot tongue slow dancing with yours to every vein rubbing your walls deliciously. Sometimes his dick split out because of how wet you were together and he didn’t even bother, he kept fucking your clit with his tip, up and down, up and down, making you see stars until he felt you couldn’t take it anymore and tucked himself back in. His words? Praises and praises and praises hanging from his lips like sugar. You’ve never felt so full and so… Adored.

“Yeah, c’mon princess, can feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. Think you can come now, baby?” Eddie slowed even more his pace to watch your face contort in pleasure while tears fell down your eyes, every pulse of your warm cunt around his cock sending him closer and closer to the edge. You came within seconds, nodding your head “yes” while your little pants and moans being muffled by his own, your mouths tangled while he came with you, filling the condom you help him put earlier on.

Both of you had - intentionally - little to no sex like that; but it happened. And when it happened, it was usually because you either lost yourselves or one needed so much. You tried not to be too much in your head about it, but it was difficult when Eddie kissed your forehead and played with your head, still inside you.

He didn’t want to go, either.

“You don’t look so afraid of the noises now,” he tried to break the silence between you, knowing very well it wasn’t the awkward or comfortable types, but the emotional kind.

“The rain stopped,” you let out, with tears still leaking from your eyes.

“And are you sad about it?” he dried them from your cheek.

You smiled, “fuck you.”

“You just did,” he stared at you for a bit, caressing your cheeks as your eyes stopped watering and the last raindrops flowed down the window.

“Stay? It might rain again…”

You lifted your pinky between your bodies, “just this time,” and he embraced your smaller finger with his, “just this time.”

But both of you knew it wasn’t just this time.

It would rain again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

When your keys turned on the locket the last thing you expected was to meet Eddie eating ice cream directly from the pot at home 20:17pm on a friday.

Sitting on the counter.

Shirtless.

“…What are you doing here?”

“Uh.. I live here? I should be the one asking you that,” he motioned the spoon in your direction.

“Eddie, it’s 20pm on a friday,”

“Actually, it’s 20:17pm on a friday”

Yeah you weren’t doing this tonight.

“Fine, whatever.”

“Hey, what’s that?” His tone was softer, he always knew when you had a bad day.

And good ones too. And any kind of day you have had and exactly how he should react to it.

“Just… Pierce screamed at me again,” his eyes followed you as you took the wine glass out of the fridge.

“So… She did her job cause you weren’t doing yours…”

“Try again,” you poured a glass.

“She’s just a bitch who can’t let you do your work without complaining about whatever shit she caused”

“Bingo!” You swallowed the whole wine in one go, watching through the glass as Eddie’s hand reached for it and took it from you, “no no no, this will not help you.”

“And what will? Being dumped by a freshman college girl and Ice cream?”

He gave you a disappointed look but reached for your hands anyway, “come here,” he pulled you to his body, arms embracing you while you positioned yourself in between his legs, head resting on his chest and arms around his waist.

“You know what you really need?” His words were muffled on the top of your head.

“Hm?”

“To shut the fuck up”

“You shut the fuck up” now your words were muffled on his chest.

“I know you don’t mean it. You love me.”

“Sure”

And actually you sure as hell did. And he loved you too. When were you going to admit it to each other?

Probably never.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Only two chapters left of Wobbly Hearts and then I’m DONE. 21 is pretty much finished I just got to edit it and look over it and all that, and 22 needs some tweaking but its almost done too and I’m AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA longest I’ve ever worked on anything like this and it’s almost done!!!!

[kitsunesakii]

Two is Better than one

I went wild with this one :D

Chapter six

Sasha entered her apartment with the quiet click of the front door. She tossed her backpack onto the chair in the kitchen and started a cup of tea. A clatter from the adjacent room caught her attention. She frowned slightly before peeking her head into the other room.

It took her a moment to process the scene before her eyes.

Micheal was sitting on her living room floor, long fingers carefully curling through the fur of a content cat purring below him. She noted a secondary feline to the left, pawing at a strand of long spindly blonde hair. He glanced at her lazily, tipping his head to the side and humming.

There was only one thing wrong with this picture. Sasha didn't own pets.

"Micheal-what?"

His smile widened. "Hello my dear."

She gestured to the cat now rolling onto its back as Micheal petted its belly. "Where did these come from?"

He looked over at the one still playing with his hair. "They followed someone into my corridors. They followed me here."

Right. Sasha shook her head and sat down, the one on its back stretched out before moving towards her curiously, it had orange hair like a tabby. She pet it and it purred in response.

"Micheal."

"Sasha."

"I don't have the stuff for these guys. I barely have the room, you don't really expect me too-" Her words were cut short as she watched the grey one tangled in Micheal's hair sound out a small mewl as Micheal tenderly picked it up in its hands with too much bone and fingers that stretched too far across. The cat didn't seem to mind.

Micheal hummed as he watched the cat in his arms twist and curl, purring contently as if Micheal wasn't a terrifying monster. Sasha dared to smile.

"I believe, if I remember correctly, these creatures need food, water." He chimed lightly. Sasha rolled her eyes.

"Fine. There's a store down the way from here. They have pet supplies." Sasha sighed as she stood to her feet. "And they are cats, Micheal."

He didn't so much as stand to his feet, rather a blur of motion and colors that stretched out and scattered like sand before he was standing in front of her. "Cats. Yes."

She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door, stopping when she realized Micheal was following her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you of course." He giggled, "silly question."

"Right." Sasha smiled, "This won't end badly at all."

----------------------------------------------

The actual trip wasn't horrible.

Besides the fact that every single dog started barking at Micheal which earned them a few curious glances from the staff, they made it out with a sack of cat food, cat litter, and a box. Even more than she had expected, Micheal paid. Handing the cash to the women as Sasha looked at him with such a confused expression she partially believed he did it just to see her reaction. Laughing as they left the store with the supplies. She simply shook her head.

"I think- he had one."

Sasha looked over at him, he looked, well, human. The way his coat sat on his shoulders and down past his boots, his hands wrapped around a bag of cat food. His eyes trained on nothing before looking over at her with a sharp smile.

Sasha frowned. "Who?"

"Micheal. Before-" His words echoed and trailed off.

Sasha understood. "I'm sorry." The words felt stupid in her mouth.

"Do not be, its-" he paused. "It's a nice memory, I am not sorry to have it, amongst the fractals of everything and nothing and the not-in between, it is nice."

Sasha thought about her question a moment before asking. "What's it like?"

"What?"

"The...what you said about the fractals and the nothingness, delusion...what's it like?"

"It Is Not What It Is and it is a part of me" he said it like a broken tune from some forgotten nursery rhyme. "It is madness- throaty, hollow, the depths of doubt- madness that stirs in the mind. It is not a physicality, but, within it, there is a certain…” He paused. “Ah! Beauty. Like a fine piece of decoration in a mundane hallway." Micheal laughed long and hard as they approached her building.

"You say it's beautiful?"

He giggled and shook his head. "You tell me, my dear, what with your It Knows You, all that knowledge will never satisfy, never relief, you see all and yet-" They entered her house to the two cats scratching up her couch and seemingly content with life. “Madness floods the senses and dilutes the mind, leaving it clear. It changes perception, blinds reality. It's a song sung with all the wrong notes and the wrong tune but it is beautiful nonetheless.” He sat the bag on the kitchen table and she prepared two bowls.

“A broken melody is still broken.”

“Ah, but only you would know if it's broken.”

Sasha paused and stared at him. He was crouched down, pouring the food into the bowl she had provided. It got everywhere and he giggled. Letting out a hummed “oops.” Before moving a long finger to scatter the dropped food even further. His hair cascaded around his shoulders and swept across the floor, the grey cat already taking interest in his dubbed playtoy.

She understood what he meant. And maybe there was a relieving beauty to it. Someone’s only lost if they themselves don’t know how to get to their destination. But if someone is simply wandering, well. There could be a comfort to that. Ignorance is bliss after all. A buzz of muddled headspace that someone looks for within drugs or alcohol. A weight lifted from the mind as it's consumed by something that isn’t tangible.

“Do you understand?” He looked back at her, the pieces of food that had missed the bowl now nowhere to be seen. The two cats had taken an interest in the food and water and were quick to indulge themselves. She looked into Micheal’s eyes, the swirling spirals that seemed to impossibly dilate as he looked at her. He seemed softer, somehow. All folded up and crouched on her floor seemingly as protection to the felines happily eating away. His sweater changed and morphed in color and she half wondered where his coat went. His scarf was wound around his neck and seemed to move like a snake, continually curling over his shoulders. Twisting and bending and pulling in every direction. He was an enigma to look at. Madness. An ever shifting idea that barely took shape before it was changing again. Beautiful. She decided.

He was beautiful.

She almost forgot he was waiting for a response. “I understand.” The words didn’t feel nearly enough. Some part of her reminded herself that she was supposed to be scared of this thing that had casually dropped two cats at her feet like it was nothing. This thing that bought the supplies with money she wasn’t sure he was even supposed to have. This thing that had given her a distorted flower that she still had in the living room. This thing that followed her around with a curiosity she couldn’t explain. This thing that had kissed her cheek instead of killing her when she had been in its corridors. She ignored that voice and instead moved to fix the litter box in the washroom.

Not even an hour later she was curled up on the couch petting the tabby as Micheal played with the gray one on the floor not even a foot away.

“What are their names?” She asked him, breaking the silence that seemed to muffle Micheal’s laughter as he let the cat swipe at his long fingers, pulling them away just in time.

“Names are redundant.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll call this one Pumpkin.”

He didn’t look away from the cat, letting it catch his fingers and pull them down to bite playfully. Micheal hardly seemed bothered. “Daisies.”

“The cat? That’s a pretty name.”

“No-” He giggled. “I remembered. I was picking them up.” He drew his hand away and pointed at the mess of lines and colors that had once been a flower, sitting in a jar on the coffee table.

Sasha smiled back. “Daisy it is. Pumpkin and Daisy.”

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

I need to go to sleep but i dont wanna go to sleep i want to think about sashannarcy

[nyxi-pixie]

It’s like a mirage, a rotten meal appearing full healthy, only turning bitter and sweet with decay once it’s already in her mouth. But when you’re starving, when you’ve been starving, left hungry and empty and wanting, you can’t help but take more. She can’t do anything but bite down when she’s presented with the succulent mask of fresh fruit, find again and again its reality long decomposed, festering and putrid. Her eyes tell her one thing, and her mouth swallows down the truth. She keeps eating.

Attempting to reconcile two halves of one whole, when one half is lost and the other is masquerading as something dead, is an impossible feat.

Or, while in the Dark Tower, Gwen recalls her gentler memories of Morgana.

[science-lings]

love it when i find something to be weird and bullshit science about, truly my favorite part of blatantly non-realistic fandoms. i honestly love comic book/ fantasy science bc you can fake it into making sense even if that is not how things work. Anyway I want to write a fic where Bruce tries to build up an immunity to scarecrow's fear toxin and I get to extensively write about its effects bc I think Bruce should be nerdier

[canarydarity]

Hard to tell how indicative the bones on the floor are of anything about the catacombs themselves being how, every few minutes, Pix kills another skeleton adding to the collection. He swipes his sword through the one before him, and it collapses so readily into a pile of bone—like it was made to, like it was just waiting on his sword—that he has to wonder, not for the first time, what was holding it together to begin with. The bones rattle and clatter against those already littered around, and Pix sighs at the further disturbance to the scene as it was when he had entered; accounting for the damage likely done by mobs was going to make this hell to study. 

He grabs another torch and sets it inside one of the empty sconces that still adorn the walls, readjusts his grip on his sword—he can hear more lingering around the next corner; the low hiss that means a spider is near, the groan or two of a zombie. 

Pix picks up a chunk of cobble from the ground and tosses it down the hall, waits. Sure enough, out scuttles a spider. He disposes of it quickly enough, but it seems he’ll have to venture down the dark hall to goad the zombies. He glances at the clock he placed in his hotbar before embarking on this mission (it’s hard to tell how much time passes underground—something he learned quickly in his line of work). There’s still a good amount of daylight left, and he wants the catacombs cleared; he has other projects he has to move on to, things he needs to finish; he’ll just get through a few more halls—it won’t be an issue, surely. 

But the new corner he rounds remains dark even as he places a torch behind him to mark the way back. The groans can still be heard, but a zombie is yet to lumber his way, and so he has to wonder what's beyond his admittedly limited sight. Pix shuffles another foot or so forward, a torch in his non-dominant hand now as well, hoping for light, for vision. The research part of him—the logical academic—knows that it shouldn't still be this dark with the torches placed behind him nor the one in his hand, and that part is so much louder and more important than the one that knows this means something is wrong, the part that says turn around. 

The torch is lit, he can feel the heat of the flame as he observes it flicker in and out but cast no shadow on the wall behind—a wall Pix can’t even see but knows is there all the same. The circle of light provided extends no further than an inch or two out from the flame itself—comparable more to that of a birthday candle than a lit hand torch. If he hadn’t been staring directly at it, he would’ve assumed the fire snuffed out. 

He feels his eye twitch and his brows furrow. Academia liked concrete answers, things that could be explained and reasoned away—unequivocal proof. But Pix had always had a soft spot for the inexplicable, the ineffable. It was nice when he studied something and found an answer, it was riveting when he didn’t. How much more exciting to study it again and again, a riddle that begged not to be solved. (How much sweeter the prize if he were the one to figure it out in the end). 

His interest was piqued. He could feel it, the way his attention focused and his surroundings blurred and left him; his body on standby, his sword hand lowered almost subconsciously.  

In other words, it was entirely his own fault when the zombie grabbed him. Panic is never a good thing to welcome into a fight, but it likes to show up uninvited anyway. Pix's entire career revolves around studying human behavior, about how human nature cannot be fought against though it oft leads us to our own downfall and ruin. He finds it uncanny when he's reminded that this is a phenomenon from which he is not exempt. 

In haste, he elbows the zombie behind him and turns, back now to the darkness—the one not even his torch could dent. It’s an ugly bugger, eyes soft and misshapen from decay and skin so leathery it’s as if it's been treated and is ready for use as a saddle or armor. Logic replaced by horror, before he can run it through it advances, arms out, and Pix drops his sword to reach back, holding it at arm's length itself; their arms interlocked, pose not unlike meeting an old friend again for the first time in a while. His hands grip the woven fabric of what's left of its shirt, too old and worn to be from any time close to recent, and, despite the very real danger, his mind takes the time to process the period-accurate fabric, the hand-stitched design. He blanches again as he looks into its horrible milky eyes—this zombie was from the capital. 

Not sentient enough to know why it’s not actually getting any closer to Pixlriffs, the zombie makes a noise that sounds frighteningly human in its frustration and steps forward, and in his distraction, Pix lets it. The push seems to make his brain function yet again, and he shoves the zombie backward a good few paces away, but the momentum sends him stepping back himself, and his foot finds not purchase but, instead, the disturbing lack of solid ground, and with nothing left to do, he falls. 

He hits the ground with a thump and a crack and a lot of other sounds he would rather not describe as he feels they were likely very undignified. Winded but, it appears, still in one piece, he grabs another torch and strikes it against the wall, holding it up above him when it lights and shines this time as torches normally do. He buries the part of himself that is disappointed at this—the part that wants to panic and complain finally louder, now, than the part that says hmm. 

He didn’t fall too far, it seems. Now that the torch is lit he can see the gap he’d fallen through, just under a dozen feet or so above where he lays. It's obvious even looking from below how the stone floor had crumbled away, taking maybe one or two hits too many over time from overcrowded mobs or shifts in terrain or pressure aboveground. He tilts his head back but sees only another dead end behind him, and ahead looks like a further, deeper hall of the tomb he hadn’t uncovered yet, though the path is obstructed by debris from above; a net of spiderweb blankets the pile of stone and dirt, but no spider seems to be left guarding the web. 

His friend above seems to have lost interest now that he’s fallen out of sight, and its moans and groans get further away by the second. 

No immediate threat, Pix lets his head fall back onto the ground and takes a breath. He knew the crypt would be full of mobs, he knew it’d be hard, but still…

No, it’s worth it. It will be worth it. He has a job to do.

At least he isn’t defenseless—it’s more than he can say for the dungeons. Not a weapon to his name, fists wrapped in tape so red you’d never believe it’d been white to begin with; knuckles so raw and scraped and beaten by the time he’d made it out that they’d scarred that way—permanent marks of the fighter he was, of the fighter he’d proved to be. 

There was a fear there, too, at that very real and physical understanding of permanence. His studies proved expert in providing examples of what was permanent and what wasn’t, and where people weren’t, things were. He’d spent enough time studying what could be learned about a person by the things they left behind to begin to wonder if anyone at all would’ve remembered him if he’d died in those dungeons—not a singular weapon or item for him to leave behind and tell his story.

Pix stops wallowing. He sits up and reaches over his shoulder for his pick; he isn’t shocked to find that the shaft had snapped in two from the fall, it having been strapped to his back. He sighs, tossing it aside as useless. He’ll make another. 

He takes the time to remind himself again that he knew it was going to be difficult, and that difficulty was no reason to not continue. But it didn’t just feel difficult it felt…inhibiting. Dissuading, deterring, impeding. It felt deliberate. It felt like, stay out; like, we don’t want you here; like, leave us to our rest. 

(it wasn’t, it was something far more sinister. An idea he’d never thought to consider; like a torch was giving off too-little light in the hallway of a dark, long-forgotten crypt, he couldn’t see any farther than what was right in front of his own face. How cliche it’d be, in the end, when it came to pass—the academic too invested in their own research, too dismissive of the present danger posed until it consumed them. He’d have a moment to laugh about it later, when the dread had settled in and all options—or lack thereof—exhausted. While on the topic of permanence…

It was not go away that the tomb was saying, not a driving force out that was being enacted upon the archeologist, but a more frightening call of stay. A threatening but desperate find…become…join…

No, if it were trying to keep him out, why would it keep pushing him deeper? Add this to the list of things he’d realize too late.)

He stands and dusts himself off. The wall is thick and overgrown with glow lichen, and he grabs the nearest vines and tugs one, twice, three times before deciding it won't give and hoisting up. It takes a few minutes and a fair amount of huffing and puffing to get himself to the top and over the edge but he does it, collapsing on higher ground once again and taking a minute to slow his pulse. When he left the dungeons, he dove back into the studies he’d been missing and decided he’d had enough fighting to last a lifetime—this was not without consequence, he’s not nearly as in shape as he used to be. 

His sword is still on the ground where he’d dropped it, so he reequips and readies himself to push his way back out; he’d have to make time to come back and clear the rest another day. He would be back, and he hoped he would be welcomed. 

“I don’t mean to disturb you,” he says into the quiet blackness of the catacombs. He doesn't dare speak above a whisper, for there were still mobs around and his voice carried enough as it was, bouncing along the empty stone and quiet graves. “I'd like to tell your story.” 

There's nothing to hear but for the scuttling of various creatures far off in the dark, the shrill whistle of stray wind through small openings and holes. He raises his voice only slightly, a bit bolder. “Don’t you want me to do that? Will—would you allow me to do that?” 

Silence, and then—the rattle and clatter of a skeleton. It sounds like only one; he lit everything up pretty well on his way in, getting out should be easier. Striking another torch against the wall, Pix prepares to go. For a second, the light is brighter than it should be, its circle of light illuminating the hall completely, the hole he’d fallen into, the distance to the other side. He leans back to avoid the heat of the flame, and he sees it. 

The other side of the cave-in leads not to another tunnel but to an alcove, and empty it is not. His torch, though many feet away, sheds light on the scene; the heavily wax-encrusted stone above a pile of used candles and burnt wicks, the coin and other offerings of gold overflowing from bowls and chalices and any other orifice they could be piled upon, and her. 

He recognizes her immediately. The tapestry covers the majority of the wall, and though it's faded for certain, the lack of direct sunlight has done wonders at preserving what it could. The colors are familiar to his research, the subtle and light greens under warm oranges and yellows. He’s too far, he cannot see any detail; the background, what she's holding, her face—but he knows her. She’s their patron. 

The skeleton wanders closer, its bones clicking and clacking down the hall. Pix swallows. 

“I’ll return for you, I will.” It’s a promise. She’s holding a secret, he knows she is—he’s going to figure out what. Pix turns just in time to face the skeleton as it rounds the corner, and soon its bones join those on the floor, new and old alike. 

His words still echo off the caverns and crevices of the catacombs after he's left and gone, and though not possible to have been heard by human ears, the crypt whispers back good. 

~-~-~-~

Far below even the hole the archeologist had fallen in, leagues underneath the surface of the earth, buried perhaps the furthest underground of anything left behind from the ancient capital—so deeply you’d have to wonder if maybe it was done on purpose—the crown sits in a chest, waiting patiently to be discovered. It’s not a matter of if, but a nice decisive and quiet when. Eventually, the echo of the archeologists' words falls upon it where it sits, and slowly it begins to emit a soft glow. It says stay, it says find, it says become, it says join.

It says soon.

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

Can I draw/post fanart for hell hath no fury, please?? I LOVE WORK SM IM LOSING IT, DRAGON SOAP IS SO COOL AAAAAAAAAAAA

hello????? absolutely you can omg i would love nothing more????? please tag me in it if you do so i can give you all the love in the world!!!

[mishy-mashy]

Quotation marks on names because those names are aliases. Different Resistance fics (OCs) focus on,

"Ray" - The direness of what Japan is like back then. Not meant to make you feel good or have fun when you read it

Feat. Ability drawbacks do exist, being forced to earn survival, and it's impossible to survive in Japan alone.

Himura - The discrimination of Meta Humans (treated as sub-normal) and being left behind over and over

Feat. Metas are called monsters, Bruce intervenes in the transportation for a Meta Human trading ring, and abandonment issues

"Boss" - A safe space and a kind hand can be everything to someone

Feat. Kudo breaks down after the sewer incident, an "If you have any respect for me" moment, and lots of boba.

Shiki - The whole package of the aboves, and what the Resistance was like, both on-duty and in moments of calm. Lots of ugly humanity whenever pressure starts to come down.

Feat. The first Three (+ OC) get to meme, Yoichi is the prettiest bastard in the world, Kudo is a snarky bitch obsessed with Disney, and Bruce is the parent of the Resistance. Reality will hit like a truck at times and the humor will be nowhere in sight then.

"Batman" - The irony of having a cliche, aesthetic Meta Ability, and no one (including the wielder) even realizing it exists for over half the story.

Feat. Dressing like a cool, hip vampire, Yoichi calling OC "Batman" unironically (much to Bruce's delight), and iron deficiencies.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I ran this morning AND wrote some AND made art and I’m so proud of me

[pagesofkenna]

im in a bleh mood spiral, which includes a side helping of me reading through practically every single fanfic written for this semi-obscure fandom (less than 500 total), desperately trying to find someone who's interpreting the characters and relationship dynamics the same way i am

so far i'm focusing on <10k fics because I don't tend to read longer fics anyways, and a couple of gotten close but no cigar, and my brain is telling me that the best way to solve this problem is just to write something of my own, but i wont do that because a) bleh mood, b) i still haven't touched the >10k fics and maybe one of those gets it, c) writing something for this semiobscure fandom means, in a convoluted way, doing research for another larger fandom that i dont care enough to touch on, and d) the continuity of my online persona demands the casual observer never know i've written sex scenes, an image which will shatter if i post one on to my ao3 account

also, i have like an actual literal book to read

[nexttothelamp]

....

[orcelito]

Honestly. OK. It's been some weeks since I did any writing. And I SHOULD push to finish ladue chapter 3. And i will. Eventually. BUT

My brain keeps scrabbling towards trigun, & I know it's inevitable I'm gonna write smth for it, but I still don't know what to write bc Realistically I'm still in the digestion phase. I'm not the type who will write while in the middle of absorbing a thing. I will write only after I have reasonably completed the thing, bc I would DIE if I got any details wrong for the thing

So yes I watched all of tristamp, but im only 20 ish chapters into trimax, so I'm not gonna be writing anything until after I finish that manga. Which you'd THINK would be good incentive for me to push to read the manga. But get this. Wolfwood Fanfic Good.

Also anytime I start reading I can't stop & I have literally given myself headaches doing this reading all of original trigun manga in one go And then 2 nights ago reading chapters 4 through 20 of tristamp in one go. Yes I read a few more last night and didn't get the Brain Grip, but I can tell shit's about to go down HARD & that's what got me getting only 4 hours of sleep the night before last bc i could not stop READING

I have to be cautious. Hyperfixations are a dangerous thing if you don't have the time to commit to them.

.... and I still really wanna write vashwood fanfic 😭

[illegalvampire]

*john mulaney voice* writers block is a bitch!!! and I hate herrr!!!!

I'm trying so hard to get this fic done before the holidays are over yall, fighting for my lifeee. The characters aren't charactering. Help me