#i wish i had money in my back to commission someone but the only money i have is a physical note

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

With Grace, Bow

Commissioned by @turbulentscrawl

Rated Mature (to be safe) | Warnings: Drunkenness, Student-Teacher dynamic, googled Italian (sorry in advance)

Ao3

Antonio Paganini, you have known him for a few years now being roommates and all. He is an interesting person, one with skeletons in his closet and a demon at the door. You were nervous around him at first, unsure how to start a conversation with him. It was upon the mutual interest in music that he started speaking with you, he was the one who approached you while you were trying to play the violin. It was the first time you had ever seen him look so at peace, his face always has sadness written all over it. 

In that moment you saw a man in love with his craft and willing to share it. The closer you became to him the more you found pieces of a man in need of succor. Something inside of that man is broken beyond repair, or maybe it was ripped out of him leaving a void of emptiness. Antonio Paganini is the greatest violinist to ever exist! Yet, he seems so very far away, somewhere dark with a ball and chain keeping him in that abyss. His melodies are sad if one listens carefully like the cries of a trapped bird with clipped wings.

Being gentle with him is an option, one you took but quickly learned he needed a firm hand against his backside at times. The dynamic between you both shifted one day when your mother had sought out her ‘lost child’... You were thrown out by your father when he found out his child wanted to go into the arts rather than business. You have a talent and you were firm about using it to enrich the world!

Your father called you delusional and kicked you with nothing but the shirt on your back.

When he was ‘dying’ he begged you to come home and got your mother involved to try to get you to come home. You sent to him one sentence in a letter: I will come home when you are cold in the grave. 

And well, he is very cold in the grave and you inherited half of the wealth from your other sibling (who is currently going to medical school, also against the shared father’s wishes). 

With the money you have, you are glad to pay the violinist his due! A better apartment, and a new violin (only to be used once you have progressed past using the novice one).

Yet, you know it is not enough for him to be comfortable to just teach you, he needs to be out there like a bird fresh from the nest… Only he… Maybe it is not your place to judge but he acts also pompous when you find him a place to perform.

You thought you were helping, helping get used to flying but all did was land you in the current position of being livid, the livid that is mixed with hurt and self-disappointment.

As you stand in front of the man playing, you do not watch and clap at his performance, no, you just feel sorry for the fool. Your fool, your teacher, someone you know not to look up to but admire. There are few people gathered around him watching in awe of his performance, few have even dropped a few coins or dollars in his violin case—the fact he can play while drunk is a testament to his skill and muscle memory.

Still, you are very cross with the sight. Has lost his mind to be a drunken fool in public!? Besides the possibility of being arrested for public drunkenness, he should be at that performance you were hoping to see him in.

“Antonio!” He stops as you stand in front of him, “What are you doing!?” Quickly stopping his arm from moving and pulling him out of wherever his mind was.

“My friend!” Throwing his arms open, you dodge the violin bow before he leans forward, drunkenly draping over you, “Where have you been?” His words are not as clear as he may think. He stands up suddenly with a smile wide on his face. “Join me! Oh, where is your violin?” Is this man serious!?

“In the hall wondering when you were taking the stage.” Crossing your arms and with furrowing brows, you are going to ignore that last question with a wave of your hand.

He shrinks a bit as your tone makes it crystal clear you are more than disappointed with him. With the group looking on at the potential unfolding drama, you grab his violin case, closing it. “Home. Now.” He can carry his violin on the way.

“Evening.” Curt as Antonio is dragged behind you as you take him by the hand, the crowd leaving with nonsense grumbling. “I can’t believe you would do this!” Say under your breath. The Violinist is rambling, you are not paying attention to him, then you stop when feel his weight getting heavier to pull. “Antonio?”

He drapes over you, his hair smooth against your face as laughs the way you hate, self-deprecating. You know Antonio can be a mean drunk, you have seen it at a pub one time a fight he was not in the wrong for but the viciousness he showed was not called for. Now he acting affectionate, needy like a cat, and you wish you could give it to him. But you are mad! You remind yourself that your teacher has fucked up because of his damn pride.

“It's cold.” His arm wrapped around you, his face rubbing against yours and you swear if he was not holding his treasured violin, you would push him into the snow!

“Of course it's cold!” Glancing behind you then realizing, “Where is your coat?” He only dressed in his performance coattail suit. The burn of your cheeks hidden by your scarf, he cold but you are not giving him anything! Stupid winter, stupid snow, you want to cry in frustration. Drunken idiot! Wintertime is the best time to get booked for performances! During the holidays everyone loves to see Christmas plays, musicals need musicians! And the orchestras always need the best of the best.

“I gave it to a poor lad I passed by,” Dragging out the last word, “Poor thing.” He has no idea that nothing he is saying makes sense.

“What am I going to do with you…” Exasperated.

The trek home was long because Antonio was comedically dramatic and you were worried about him falling over. At least the brisk way partly sobered up the man but God above you needed some patience. He stumbles inside first, you take his violin and gently place the poor thing on the table in the living room— You pray the instrument is not worn from being in the cold for so long. The case is placed next to it.

The violinist stumbles around talking about needing a brandy. You scowl before grabbing his arm and tossing him on the couch, he looks confused but remains in that spot as you take off your coat, scarf, and gloves then place them in the appropriate area. This gave you time to name the many reasons why you should not murder Paganini.

“Don’t be rough, alunno.” Being tall, he looks silly on the couch with one leg on the other cushion and his other leg stretched out on the floor. Antonio holds his head before slumping further until he lies completely out on the couch.

“Pride before the fall, maestro. Pride before the fucking fall!” He turns around slightly as you are going on one of the lectures. Yes, the dynamic between the two of you is teacher and student but feels more like an old married couple constantly bickering. 

“I'm sorry.” He sounds pitiful, not in a cute way, drunk and sad. Rare given he usually is the violent type. “Don't be upset with me.” His hand reaches out for you as you go to him. “Mi alunno.” You remove his shoes, each one drops to the floor. Antonio sits up to caress your cheek, “Scusami tanto.” Slipping into Italian knowing how charming it sounds to you.

Not now though.

“No. No, you messed up! I waited for you! Do you know how scared I was? Thinking how maybe something happened to you along the way! They demanded compensation for the embarrassment and I had to cover for you!”

Yes, you are yelling at him! Rightfully so.

“Scusami tanto.” Deeper his head is on your shoulder as the hand on your cheek moves to your neck, his thumb rubs against your throat, “You do so much for me.”

“I do… Happily.”  Because he is just an old bird who is struggling to fly and keeps falling but you are there to catch him no matter what. Love does that, makes people stupid and helpless.

“Alunno,” His breath is hot on the other side of your neck, “(Name).”

“Not while you are drunk, maestro.” You lay him down under before laying on top of him. The couch is small but it somehow works, “I'm still upset too.” Playing with his hair.

He holds you–No– He clings to you like a lifeline, his hands latching onto your body as he seeks both your warmth and comfort.

Tomorrow he will get a proper earful while recovering from a hangover, then he will have to make up for the performance he missed.

There is pride, he should have been paid better than the chump change they offered.

There is greed for he wants more and they do not deserve his skills.

There is wrath which in this case is the righteous anger you should have.

There is sloth, he is not lazy he just refuses to do more work than he needs to do for something like that performance (he wonders how well did you do? He did say you were ready to perform if you practiced more).

There is gluttony as he drank enough to have him act shamefully.

There is envy towards you that keeps him with a roof over his head, and food in his stomach, and you allow him to do what he loves and does best. He wishes he could give you more but his debt to you by now is far too great to ever repay you.

And finally, there is lust. The sin the demon feeds the most on while around you, his student. You love him, it is clear in all your actions. The one night you shared over too many glasses of wine, the messy kisses, and the way you would moan both his title and name had him struggling to hold back that demon edger to devour you.

He is a sinful man, flawed, broken; but even with all those things he has enough virtue to do right by you.

#reader insert #idv #idv violinist #idv antonio #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x you #idv x reader #antonio x reader #antonio x you #violinist x you #violinist x reader #antonio paganini #identity v x you #identity v violinist #ao3 fanfic #the violinist

[joyful-joe]

My 2023 art summary. Here's my written rambling thoughts of last year's progress: (spoilers: It's long)

In 2022 I posted about 37 art pieces, I wished I could've beat that record in 2023 but it ended up being about 30 art pieces including sketches. There are reasons for my slow output. A major one being I was focusing on finishing my vocational college which I succeed. The second reason is wanting to continue improving. I feel like each time make something it comes out better than the last one. I don't think that's true for all art pieces I made this year, obviously some are better than others in terms of quality. But I don't think I've ever had a moment were I thought (of a finished piece) to have gotten "worse" compared to previous pieces. I'm glad that I can still keep this positive mindset with me. Of course I couldn't improve that fast without the help on one good friend who helped me each time I got stuck. On one part it's amazing to have someone that's willing to help me even if it might be over done, but on the other hand I'm still trying to be more self reliant which atm I'm getting better at getting out of those situations myself. But occasionally there's nothing wrong to ask for a bit of help. Last reason was I got lost in what my goals were. This art blog started in February 2018, making it almost 6 years now. It started as being a motivational drive to work on art more (since it's been a long hobby of mine) and get better just like the other online artist I admire. Maybe dreaming if I ever got up there with the other I could earn money with doing what I loved. Of course that is still far out of my reach. Account growth has been pathetically slow in comparison to how we see others. But I feel like I have the right to complain of such thing. I know my faults, I'm not really consistent in what I draw and this year felt even more inconsistent. I don't keep up with trends or draw them cus in the end if I look back at them I would only feel shallow, cus it was obviously made to gather (potential) numbers and not be something I really wanted to do. I see other artist that draw way better than me and also under perform when it comes to notes/followers. So maybe it's a bit selfish to complain of such things. But going into the "screw those internet numbers" sort of lead me to ask "okay but why should I keep up? Why not go back drawing whatever and not bother posting it online?" and it goes on and on spiraling down. I questioned if this careless attitude is where I should really be going. That said internet numbers don't really affect me. It's not the end of the world if the fan art doesn't do good numbers. I already tried what I could to improve the number rate and going down this internet rabbit hole of how to get bigger numbers makes it all sound paranoiac (especially on Twitter). But overall 2023 made small achievements. Got at least 2 commissions, one art piece made it into the front page of Newgrounds, some artists I look up to followed me back, posts have gotten in general more attention than last year and the overall quality of my art has improved. It's not much but still small steps in achieving my goals. It's been a good year for me. I'll continue to draw till I drop dead. I'll continue to work on improving my art. I'll continue to explore new ideas even if they're small. I'll draw in different mediums, even if it doesn't help my consistency issues. That's just who I am. I don't expect many to read this but if you did, thank you for reading.

#my art #art summary #art summery 2023

[pjisskullourful]

ʜᴏᴛ  ᴘʀᴏᴡʟ

🦇Thomas x reader [best wishes for ˢᵖᵒᵒᵏᵗᴴᴼᴱᵇᵉʳ, from the halloQween🎃]

NSFW🔥 extremely unsafe, bloodsucking demon-fucking for only the most depraved

° Thomas Raggi/female reader insert

🎧 HOT VAMP SHIT playlist to add to your reading experience🦇

° you’ve fallen on hard times, to secure money you rob from people. but attempting to steal from thomas raggi is far more complicated than you anticipated & you’re trapped in the home of a vampire [based in Newtown, Australia]

wordcount:::      4,875   

° inspired by this anon exchange [2 commissions are in cue, secure your own spot here!]

You felt his body heat on your back and his nose brushing against the skin of your neck before you heard him speak. "My, my, my- what is such a beautiful and delicious presence like you doing here, in my home, completely uninvited?"

You froze, rooted in place, too frightened to turn to face the voice. You already knew who it was, the thick Italian accent gave away that the owner of this home had returned sooner than you had planned for. An arm snaked around your waist and you retracted your hands from the rack of designer clothing, feeling your stomach drop. This was the time when your luck ran out - you had flown too close to the sun, your wings of wax melting and now you were landing into trouble, deeper than anything you had experienced before. 

There were so many times that you had stolen and lied without any repercussions, but this time you had gone too far. Trying to steal from Thomas Raggi, how had you thought you could get away with this? Your desperation had made you more deluded than usual.

You squeezed your eyes shut and gave a dry sob. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please don't- puh- don't… you don't have to call the cops… it's only- it's only me and I- I'm really sorry, I…"

He was holding you tight to him. "You're gonna have to do better than that, little one. I've been around long enough to know when someone is fake crying. I'm not even seeing a single drop here, you've barely committed yourself to it." He was rubbing his nose against your skin, a gesture of familiarity that you wouldn't expect to receive upon breaking into a stranger's house. "You don't want me to call the police- convince me not to, because I should, I really should. But maybe I don't want to, maybe I'd just rather deal with you myself."

You had given up on the tactic of tears, feeling yourself out of your depth because this was not how he should have been reacting. This wasn't like any of the other times you had been caught.

“How can I convince you? The only weapon that I have on me is one knife. I can prove it to you.” You said.

“And I suppose that you would need me to let go of you for you to prove that?” He continued speaking, rather than letting you answer. “You’d just run off the second I let go, or you’d try to…”

“Actually, I’ve got the switchblade in my front pocket. So if you just let me- I mean, if you don’t freak out when I reach down…”

He wasn’t trying to restrain your hands in any way, allowing you to access the pocket of your jeans. Acting as you would if encountering a skittish animal, your movements were slow. You tucked your hand into the tight pocket, reaching down until you felt the sturdy plastic handle of your blade.

With every second that passed without him harming you, you gained some more confidence. Even through the surge of adrenaline, you could reach the logical conclusion that if he wanted to hurt you, he would have done that straight away.

But you still had to get clear of that threat of law enforcement. You couldn’t be anywhere near the police. You were here as a means to secure cash. You were behind on paying your rent. Posting bail after an arrest was completely beyond your capabilities, so you had to do whatever it took to keep him from dialling triple zero.

You held the switchblade up to eye-level, keeping the blade tucked away for the moment. “One knife, that’s it. We don’t have guns in Australia and I can’t afford a taser.”

“Throw it onto the floor, over there.” He said, gesturing to the right.

You did as you were instructed, tossing your only knife aside. “I don’t have any other weapons, I promise.”

He laughed bitterly. “Do you really think that I’m gonna believe any promises from you? You have a dangerously low level of credibility, my little thief.”

“I don’t know how to prove it to you. I would if I could, but I don’t…”

“You don’t have a bag with you, so any weapons are on your body.” He summarised.

“There’s none.” You rushed to say. “I have nothing else hidden under-”

He cut you off with a single word. “Strip.”

Surely you had misheard him. He must have sworn at you in Italian and your untrained ear had tried to make sense of it in English.

“I- ahem, I’m sorry, what?”

He removed his arm from around you, but you didn’t feel like you could relax at all. He put his hand to the back of your shoulder and gave you a rough shove, sending you stumbling over to the left. You struggled to regain your balance as you turned to face him.

“Take your clothes off.” He said it slowly, leaving you with no opportunity to mishear him. “Show me that there aren’t any other weapons hidden in pockets, or elsewhere, by taking those clothes off. All of them.”

You didn’t question his authority, starting to bend down to untie your shoes. He didn’t put his back to you as he took some steps away. He collected your knife from the floor and you heard the scrape of the blade, as it was moved out of its cartridge.

You continued to avoid any sudden movements and you kept looking up, making eye contact with your knife. He had backed over to a nearby wall, leaning about one metre away from you. You removed your sneakers and socks as he tucked the blade away, but kept your weapon held securely in the palm of his hand.

You straightened up, his hazel eyes set onto you with laser-like focus as your hands went to the buckle of your belt. You held his gaze, feeling how your heart was pounding quicker than what was normal.

All of your perceptions about Thomas had been that he was a very laid-back guy. He zipped down the streets of Newtown on his skateboard, visiting his favourite shops whenever downtime was allowed for him to spend time in his Australian home. From everything you had heard or seen online, he had seemed like he didn’t create much of a fuss around himself.

But now that he was standing directly in front of you, you had to take on a new reading of the guitarist. In his presence, you could finally understand how such an unassuming-looking man could perform in front of sold-out crowds.

He was the picture of strong confidence. He couldn’t be rattled because he was wholly in control, possessing the calmness that came with this position.

He was the dominant one and you knew that there was no use trying to overthrow this. It was easier to just obey.

You peeled down the tight denim, until your pants could be stepped out of. You collected them from the floor, holding the item out so that the stranger could take them. “There’s a few things in the other pockets…” You handed the garment over to him. “Like, my phone, the key to my apartment, a bus card and… that’s my lock picking kit.”

He placed these things on an armchair close to him, but the switchblade stayed in his hand. He looked at you, wearing an expectant expression with his eyebrows raised. “Keep going…”

You grabbed the hem of your black T-shirt, lifting the faded material away from your skin. You pulled it over your head, before letting it drop down to join your shoes and socks on the ground.

Now you were standing before him in only your mismatched bra and underwear. But you thought that you could see the finishing line - there would soon be nothing left to prove to him, leaving him with only the option to let you go. And you just had to keep that in mind, just a little further until this truly bizarre encounter was over.

You raised your hands up, holding them with your palms exposed, up in front of your shoulders. “Do you want me to do a turn, or…?”

“I want you to keep going. I said strip.” He said the word slower this time. “You broke into my house, you snuck in with a weapon and I need to know that there’s nothing hidden under what you’re still wearing.”

“And you’ll believe me then?” You asked, hesitating from making any further movements.

“I’ll believe what I see with my eyes.”

You found that you couldn’t take your eyes off of his, just staring him down as you reached back for the clasps of your bra. You didn’t feel embarrassed, you knew that you were on the verge of being vindicated.

Your body hadn’t been seen by anyone but your ex-partner (who was your current disgruntled roommate) in more than a year. But that didn’t matter so much to you right now. Aside from keeping Thomas happy, not much mattered.

You let your bra fall to the ground, you were too focused on your task to feel ashamed. His eyes moved to your chest but you were already pushing your panties down.

You straightened up, lifting your palms to show him. “Should I turn around in a circle now?”

He was nodding as he took a step away from the wall he had been leaning against, a step towards you. “Yes, spin around for me, little one.”

You didn’t know what he was hoping to find on your body as you slowly started to turn yourself around, keeping your hands raised like a hostage, even though you didn’t feel like one. Your exposed skin was developing goosebumps.

When you returned to your starting position, you found that he was standing directly in front of you. Your bodies were almost touching and you felt a little more intimidated now.

“What’s your name, my little thief?” He asked and you answered without hesitation. You gave him your legal name, for some reason feeling compelled to tell him this, as opposed to the alias you had taken on years ago in the interest of protecting yourself. He nodded his head, his eyes looking you over with continued curiosity. “I suppose that you are who you say. But what are you doing in my home? Don’t spoil this friendship we’re developing by lying to me, okay?” He had started to smile at you.

You sighed, your body had been exposed, what was the harm in staying on this path and showing him more of yourself? You were never going to see him again, his opinion would have no bearing on your life after you stepped out of his luxurious house.

“I have a lot of debt and, uhm, not a lot of money. It’s not ‘cause I’m unemployed, I have a job. It’s just- it’s, like, not making enough to do anything but scrape by.” You said. “And I know a guy who works in this area, he’s a landscaper. In fact, he’s been working on your neighbours yard for the past few weeks.

“And I- well, I lied to him. I told him that I’m, like, a Måneskin superfan and that I’ve been desperate to meet you.” You said, adding lies and manipulation to the character flaws this stranger had knowledge of. “So I had him message me whenever he saw you leaving your place ‘cause I pretended that I wanted to bump into you at a café, or a record shop, or whatever.

“I learned your schedule and when I knew the place would be empty, I broke in. But you surprised me.”

“Did you really think that you could bust in here and take off with a bunch of my shit on your own? You thought that you would get back on the bus with a giant TV in your hands and nothing would go wrong, smooth-sailing the whole way?” He asked, his eyes narrowed as he viewed you through this new sceptical lens.

“I wasn’t going to take a TV. I was after clothes, trinkets, fancy things that I could sell on eBay under a fake name.” You said.

“That is a pretty good plan.” He said, licking his lips and you noticed his eyes were lowering from your face a little. “I probably shouldn’t be complimenting you, but you’re very brave and very bold.” You wanted to take a step back, starting to feel unnerved. “I wonder if you taste so bold and so very brave.”

“Pardon m- ah…”

In an instant, everything had escalated as you were grabbed and roughly pulled to him.

Before you could say anything or push back, all of your thoughts were blocked out by an incredible pain. It was a powerful ache that originated from the side of your neck.

You didn’t understand why it didn’t end, the pain kept going. It kept getting deeper - much deeper than what you knew a punch felt like. It was so deep that you were beginning to feel foggy, losing your sharp focus, which you knew was essential in scenarios like this.

You heard a strange and unfamiliar wet sound, almost like a slurp, but not quite right.

When he pulled back, you found that his lips were now bright red. You were struggling to make sense of what you were seeing as that spot on your neck began to throb.

From his bottom lip, a droplet of red started to travel down as you watched. He must have felt it, raising his finger to collect the thick liquid. Then he popped his finger between his lips, licking it clean.

“You do taste brave, sweetheart.” He said.

You were speechless as you stared at him. Within you, a war was being waged and your thoughts raced. There was revulsion, this struggled with how intrigued you were to be peeking into a room you didn’t know existed until now. Your interest unfolded in front of you, hardly stunted by fear. That desire to obey was still present, fuelling other emotions that you didn’t have the capacity to name.

He put a hand to your cheek, surprising you with how gently his thumb caressed your skin. “Can I taste more of you?”

“Are you gonna kill me?” You couldn’t get your voice above a whisper in this moment.

“Absolutely not.” He quickly said. “I’m not a newly-made vamp, I can control myself when I’m feeding.”

“So you’re a vampire?” You asked, this should have been a laughable moment. It should have been unreal, impossible in every way.

“Yes.”

You had reached up, covering your new wound. It was warm and wet, but it wasn’t actively gushing, giving you the solace that you weren’t about to bleed out. But that didn’t mean you were safe. “But you’re not gonna kill me?”

He was smiling, now he wasn’t just calm in his dominant state - he was amused. “No. If I wanted you dead, don’t you think you would already be hurt?” He went on touching you, rubbing your lower lip as he curiously experienced you. “I don’t want to kill you. I wanna give you a high greater than anything you’ve had before. While getting pretty fucking high myself.”

You wanted to ask him to speak plainly. You wanted to ask him what you were feeling poking at you below your waistline.

But you didn’t have any words to give your voice to, getting distracted when he put his other hand up to your face and started to lean in closer. With his arms no longer around you, you could probably run, you could make an attempt at escaping.

But you couldn’t find the motivation to do that. Something inside of you painted this as the least appealing option.

So when he planted that first kiss on your lips, you started to kiss him back. The metallic taste of blood didn’t bother you for very long and you were soon letting your lips part. He was kissing you how you had never been kissed before, making your heart pound so much faster. The way that your blood tasted and how the sight of his bite continued to hurt took you away from everything else, letting you blissfully slip away from reality.

You whimpered as his tongue pushed into your mouth. This seemed to be the last thing that you needed to break away from all logic. You let yourself into the dazzling sensation of being consumed by desires. Choosing to obey him had led you away from needing to ask any questions because all you had to do was follow your instincts and there was so much freedom to be found in that.

“You don’t have to sleep with me to stop me from calling the police.” He said.

“Thank you. But I want to.”

“Is my little thief gonna let me steal more of her blood?”

“Yes, I think so.” You said, your mouth felt very dry.

He picked both of your hands up, his long fingers sliding in between yours. “You don’t have to do any more thinking, sweetheart. Just know that this isn’t all about me, me taking your blood for myself. It’s gonna be about how good I can make you feel, too.”

You nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Come with me.” He said, turning his back to you and starting off in the direction of the stairs you had considered for less than a second upon first coming into the home.

The tiles were cool against your feet as you followed him. He was holding onto only one of your hands, so confident in your obedience to him.

The bedroom was dark, the afternoon sun was barely pushing through the curtains. Everything in here came in different shades of red and there was a heavy scent of roses filling the still air.

He drew you in closer, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring your chest flush to his. You prioritised kissing him over catching your breath, curling your hand into a fist around the soft fabric of his shirt. His arms found a secure way to hold you and you were soon feeling his boner again.

He peppered your lips and face with hungry kisses as you felt yourself being moved. Keeping you in this embrace, he took careful steps towards the large bed.

You were placed onto the bed, on top of the smooth sheets. The wound on your neck wasn’t enough to be noticed, especially as your eyes took in the sight of him beginning to take his clothes off.

When he joined you on the bed, it was to place himself directly on top of you, his pale skin pressed to yours.

For a breathless moment, you stared into his eyes, gaining what you could from a face casted in so many shadows. You didn’t know how to read him, instead paying attention to how his hands were exploring your body, his fingertips trailing over all of the places he could reach.

You hadn’t seen the pointed teeth that he had used to dig into your flesh, but you couldn’t forget that they were there. The metallic scent of blood on his breath kept you from getting this embrace confused with any of the tender moments you had known with lovers in the past.

But you weren’t fearing your proximity to death. You were being intoxicated by your surging lust - it made you arch your back, wanting to feel more of his body pressed to yours. It made you whimper when his lips went to the other side of your neck, leaving lingering kisses here.

Your cunt was already wet when his fingers found their way to this area. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you gasped louder than before. His mouth remained at your throat, slowly appreciating the skin here. Your eyes fluttered shut as his fingertips worked into a rhythm, drawing consistent circles around your clit.

He was massaging so many sensitivities to life and you craved to make him feel just as good. You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his hard dick. He gave an excited response, parting his lips and drawing some of your skin into his mouth. There wasn’t any pain in this moment, instead you were feeling something more familiar, with him sucking on you, potentially with the goal of leaving a hickey.

You moved your hand up to his head, passing your fingers over his tip before renewing your grip. You didn’t hold too tight, setting into a speed to stroke up-and-down his long shaft.

He pulled back from you, grunting as he held himself up with one arm. Your eyes opened, taking note of the lack of fresh blood on his face. You didn’t stop stroking his cock, nor did he fall out of his consistent swirls between your labia majora.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as you lifted one of your legs, repositioning it. You put this leg next to his body, spreading your cunt further for him. He applied a little more pressure to your clit and you felt your throat clench. You tilted your pelvis as more of your body began to throb with this grand need.

You reached an arm out to him, wanting to beckon him closer. It was difficult to come up with any seductive words when you were getting so overwhelmed by ecstasy.

He suddenly moved further away, his dick sliding out of your hand as he placed himself lower on your body. He planted his knees in the space between your parted ankles and began to lean down.

“Oh, fuck.” You cried out when the warmth of his mouth met your eager cunt.

He laid his parted lips onto your crotch, before licking up the length of your slit. You flinched when you felt him spit onto your folds before laying his lips down here again. He kissed and nuzzled his nose against your labia majora.

You placed one of your hands to the back of his head when you felt the tip of his tongue at your entrance. He sank into your cunt and your hand curled into a fist around his hair.

You were weak to the pleasure, your bottom lip trembling as more needy sounds came from your throat. He pushed deeper into you, his tongue rubbing against your tender walls. You felt tension all through your body and you lifted your butt into the air. You couldn’t hold yourself still, too excited and desperate for more. He allowed you to grind into his face, starting to rock your hips.

Before you could sink into the perfect tempo, he had pulled away, spitting onto you again. You felt like you were suspended in thin air, holding your breath as you waited for him to resume treating you with his mouth.

But he didn't do as you expected. He resumed his earlier position on top of you, the tang of your cunt on his lips as he kissed you again. You were whimpering into his mouth as he settled, finding the best way to fit his body with yours. You parted your legs and wrapped your arms around him.

The adrenaline rush of breaking in had so effortlessly bled into your arousal, keeping you at such an elevated state that it felt like your pussy melted to draw him in. He glided in, fitting perfectly at once, drawing loud moans from both of you.

He set into a hungry pace, which suited how desperate he already had you feeling. You moved your body with his quick swings, more of your whimpers delivered directly into his mouth. His tongue caressed at the inside of your mouth as his arms wrapped around you, lifting you further away from the bed.

You were surprised out of your consistent grinding when he placed a hand over your breast, his fingers grabbing at your very stiff nipple. You whined, breaking the kiss as you lost all of your breath. He pinched and played with the nipple, making you feel so sensitive, your body tingling all over. Your hips bucked and stuttered, your elegance gone, slipping further from you with each masterful move he made.

You threw your head back, noisily attempting to catch your breath as he kept going, one powerful thrust following another and coming in quicker. His swollen tip stroked along your inner walls, determined jolts from his hips.

"I'm gonna- unf… I'm gonna…" You sputtered. "Fuck, you're gonna make me…"

You wrapped your leg around his waist, seeking to find the right angle. You snapped your hips up into him, taking him deeper.

He pressed his face into your neck and soon you were feeling his fangs burying into your flesh again. You gasped, your cunt clenching around him as he drove his teeth in further, piercing through more skin and tissue.

There wasn’t any fear, but the pain rose up to an incredible height, filling your body and changing your experience. There were no thoughts left in your mind as he kept you in this intense state.

Your pussy remained clenched tight around him, your nerves lit on fire to the noises of him slurping up your blood. He fucked into you at a frenzied speed as you wailed, already feeling ruined by the orgasm that hadn’t actually arrived yet.

He pulled back from your neck and you could see the crimson beads slipping from his lips. You flinched when shots of his tainted spit hit your face.

You writhed beneath him as he leaned forward, his face almost touching yours and the only thing you could smell was your own blood. Ragged breaths and grunts of effort marked his relentless pumping into you.

“Come for me, little one.” He commanded.

Your eyes were rolling back as violent tremors rocked through your whole body. “Yes, yes, fuck, fuh- I’m- ‘m gon’... ah…”

You squealed as you shattered into this release.

But the powerful stimulations continued, wrecking you further as he jerked himself to his own climax. Your overly-sensitive body convulsed underneath him as he started to unload into you. Your wordless pleas combined with his loud whines as you felt his hot essence filing your cunt.

“Ye- yeah, oh yes…” He croaked, moving a little slower, but still working his hips so that he could thrust his cum deep inside of you.

“Good girl, good girl, good girl.” He whispered, his voice sounding so warm now, as he had pulled out. He kissed you across the forehead, then a few on each cheek before lying down next to you.

The adrenaline was rapidly fleeing your body, leaving you feeling more exhausted than you ever had before. You kept your eyes shut, too frazzled to comprehend what had just happened to you.

Lying still, you steadily started to get your breath back. You were coming down and as reality seeped in, you found that your thoughts didn’t immediately go to your ex-partner. It wasn’t like waking up in the morning, forced down by the weight of another day in your grim, struggle-filled existence. You weren’t thinking of your debts, you had no fears in this moment.

Instead you were savouring every breath, experiencing a strange thought that you were glad to be alive.

After a time, the vampire beside you spoke again. “I’ll get you some water.”

You weren’t sure how long you were left alone in his bed, you were just relieved that he wasn’t expecting you to move or walk yet.

When he came back into the room, you saw that he wasn’t just holding a glass of water. He carried a large duffle bag, the sight of which spawned some worry in you - was he going to stuff you in here, or was it already filled with tools to torture you with?

You took the glass from him, but hesitated to take your first sip. Instead you watched as he put the bag down on the mattress. He undid the zipper, allowing you to see that it was stuffed with clothes - far less scary, but you were ultimately confused.

“The guest bedroom in this place is a mess, it’s become kinda a dumping area. A lot of shit gets sent to me and it’s ridiculously uncomfortable, or sometimes it’s just gross. But it’s still designer, so you should make a decent amount when you sell them.” He said, your mouth dropping open as you listened. “And how about I show you my age, eh? ‘Cause I’m gonna tell you that I keep physical cash on hand, in case of an emergency.” He unzipped an inner-pocket of the bag and you saw colourful bills inside, more yellow notes than you had held in your hands in a long time. “So I dipped into that…”

You looked up at him, your jaw still agape. “Thomas, this- I don’t know what to-... don’t you think this is, like, encouraging me to keep trying to rob people?”

A smile formed on his dirtied face. “Let’s just call it an incentive to come back, sweetheart.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

THREE MORE HALLOWEEN FICS TO CUM BEFORE THE END OF OCTOBER!!!

If you like my writing, feel free to tip me. I am open to both commissions & requests, commissions get priority & the most input. join my taglist to keep up to date with all my debauchery

🍑  taglist:  @thegeminisgirl - @ha-la-ansia - @elvirabelle -  @icarodamiano - @itsmaneskinbitch   @gr8rainbowpunk -  @idyllicbutterfly -  @maneslut -   @slavicgoddess13​- @saschenkaaa - @maneskindiva  - @maneskintifoso -  @butkutee - @ursulalurks -  @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - ​  

#halloween posting #make me your halloqween #manesmut #vampire maneskin #vampire thomas raggi #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi x you #thomas raggi fic #maneskin x y/n

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

vent post, .. putting it under readmore cus its long.

sooo yeah, basically, idk waht to do with my life, and i feel like a burden in the sense that i cant provide for myself rn. i never talk about my living situation but i am almost 29 yrs old, unemployed and having to be supported by my friends cus my family is too poor to help me in any way. like i have to live with my friend’s parents which somehow feels even more pathetic than living w my own parents.. i mean ofc i am very grateful to them for helping me but the guilt racks up more n more each day. when i was 14 my mom told me, ok you’re old enough to work now so you have to get a job if you want literally anything for yourself that isn’t the bare essentials. u want anything other than canned soup for dinner? thats on u. so i got a job, at 14!!! i think back now and im like what the fuck. i was a child... but alas. i worked and worked, i was almost never unemployed my whole life after age 14, except for during 2020 pandemic, and these past few months.

work, work, work, i worked so many piece of shit jobs, i never went to school or anything, there were a few good jobs here n there but they’d always end up getting sabotaged by one of my bipolar episodes. a lot of times, when i was rly desperate, i wld resort to escorting, which i just fucking hated and have been put in a lot of compromising situations and ugh. yeah, what im GETTING at is, ive literally never had security in my life, ive never had resources, the past 15 or so years have been lived in survival mode, and 6 months ago i finally fucking crashed and burned. like, no, i fucking refuse to work anymore, im suicidal all the time, ive never been able to heal from anything that’s happend to me, i dont care if i die broke and alone, i just cant work these demeaning ass jobs anymore. im very grateful to my friedns who have been helping me not die since then, i try rly hard to live frugally, i only eat what i rly need, rarely treat myslef, etc etc.

but now its like, where do i go from here? i know i need to start thinking about generating income again and it makes me so fucking sick. all i can rly do is commissions, but i hate putting a price on art, its only fun to me when im doing it for free. i dont want it to stop being fun. i dont want it to be about money. im scared to try i guess. i definitely dont want to work another stupid job but i also just sit in the house all day and it feels unhealthy. i dont want to meet people, i dont want coworkers, hate putting myself out there cus i cant relate to anyone. hate watching them in real time slowly realize that theres something seriously wrong with me, its embarrassing. i just need something to do.. i dont have a car or anything, i dont even know how to drive because i always figured id be too poor to afford a car. and so far ive been correct about that.

i guess this post is pretty embarrassing too but oh well.. i figure at least on here some ppl can relate.. like fuck i cant even get a therapist to respond to me. everyone just keeps begging me to get therapy as if it will save me. im really lonely w all my feelings and memories. i feel like im in purgatory and all i can do is keep drawing pictures for ppl to enjoy and trying to post things that are uplifting so i can at least make someone elses day a little brighter. but i wish i had a plan or an answer or a real goal. i reallty really really want to be nothing.

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

Afton-Herrera Moments 2

Alex shows a few cracks under pressure.

TW: mentions of self-harm

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

Date: Unknown Location: Somewhere in Florida

.

Something soft and white thumped Router in the forehead as he entered the den of the mercenary base. He scrabbled to catch the offending object, already irritated with his morning thus far.

“What the fuck, man?! What is this?!” he snapped, tracking the trajectory of the thing tossed at him back to Panther, the older man just lounging in his chair with his feet up on the coffee table and attention on the rickety television nearby.

“Ya left a mess by the bathroom sink last time, so I figured you were out of stock,” Panther huffed, gesturing idly in Router’s direction, “Next time, wrap up before you drip all over the place. Making Medic twitchy makes it hard to keep ‘em under control.”

Router blinked in confusion before looking down at the object in his hands. His cheeks colored upon recognizing the roll of bandaging gauze. So much for making sure he’d cleaned up all evidence…

“What, not gonna try and talk me out of doing it again?” he spat out, stress rising both at being discovered and at what his partner’s response could be. Panther just snorted.

“I ain’t your dad, punk. Do whatever the fuck you want; it’s your life. Just don’t make a mess that’ll make my weapons twitchy and keep your stock up through the supply drops,” he retorted and waved a hand dismissively at Router before reaching for his bottle of beer. “Give me a head’s up if you plan on dropping dead so I know to turn down any clients looking for your skill set,” he added as an afterthought.

Router just stared at him for a bit, then laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m not that fucked in the head. Just a lil something for a hit of a high that doesn’t dull my brain,” he replied, pocketing the roll as he went to join the other mercenary. Panther passed him a bottle of his own and the hacker grabbed it before tossing himself back onto the couch. He smiled to himself as he opened it.

How refreshing, to have someone acknowledge his control over himself and not argue with him over what he wished to do with himself. To be respected like this, this was all he ever wanted.

.

-----------

.

Present Day

.

“Hm, win some and lose some, and you only get this one on account of some dipshit DDOSing the server!” Alex griped, drumming his fingers over his keyboard as he read over the losses of his game character’s inventory. Some interesting loot he’d found, a few guns he’d scavenged off of earlier kills, and a decent chunk of money he’d collected from the numerous caches and NPC enemies he came across; not terrible losses in game, but an annoying blow to his pride. Too bad he wasn’t anticipating something like that, he would have set up something to monitor the server activity and slap back anything trying to mess with his session. Oh well.

A window on his second monitor scrolled text upward at a steady pace, a myriad of consolation messages and heckling in varying ratios and colors. Alex sat back and looked over the text, reading through some of the messages to pick what to respond to and what to disregard. In the window of another bit of software, he could see the art he’d commissioned to represent himself settle into an idle pose to match his current silence, a character dressed in light military gear with an icosahedron for a head, eyebrows and a mouth the only facial aspects to allow for expression. Alex had been amused by the design and tipped the artist extra for it.

“No need to get aggressive, it was out of our control,” he finally replied to the messages on the monitor, moving his microphone on its arm a bit closer to his mouth now that he wasn’t focused on the game. And wasn’t that rich coming from him? A situation he didn’t have full control over and the most he felt was irritation that didn’t even last long enough to have him plotting vengeance. “If you wanna blame anything, blame the crappy infrastructure this game’s server was built on. Can’t even handle a DDOS within the first five minutes of attack. Gotta have a better defense in place so attackers waste themselves trying to breach it and don’t have resources to spare for the actual attack.”

He watched the responses to his words for a moment, banned a couple people getting dangerously close to violating the terms of service for the platform he was on, and hummed again. “Kind of a shit game in the last few minutes, but we pick up and go again. All you can do when you’re given a crap hand,” he said with a shrug, moving his cursor to click on the game window and respawn back at his character’s base for another session, “is try again for a better one.”

Like striking a deal with BellaRosa for a new life for himself and his brother, leaving behind Panther and Router to live as Sydney and Alex. There were still hardships and shitty circumstances they faced, but they clawed their way through somehow.

But Alex had a lot of Router still in him, memories remaining largely in place. Couldn’t say the same for Sydney, who lost so much of Panther between his past death and his current life that Alex struggled a bit to recognize his old mercenary partner. Sometimes.. sometimes, he wondered if he wished he got back all of Panther, in those tiny dark moments of his dreams when those memories arose.

“Before we dive back into the hellfires of this game, let’s take a break. I could use a drink,” Alex declared, clicking out of the game and into the other software, switching active tabs to send a stream of his favorite music to the various people watching his gameplay along with a looping screen of his highlights reel. He muted his microphone and pulled his headset off with a sigh, hanging it on the arm before pushing it aside.

This little side gig was fun to do on the weekends, something he started doing on a whim to try and work out his desire to return to mercenary work. Playing extraction games soothed the itch and was actually pretty fun once he grasped the rules and put his own experiences to it for more successful sessions. One of the people he regularly saw in another shooter game suggested he livestream since he was doing so well with his various plays and tactics and there would surely be people interested in seeing him pull those off. Wasn’t long before he had a streaming identity and a character to represent himself to his viewers. He’d considered just a camera on his face before dismissing it for the security risk it could provide. What if Sydney came into his room during a stream? Pantera’s identity would be leaked and the whole household could be put in danger. The virtual streamer concept was the better fit for him.

Heading downstairs, Alex glanced over the rest of the house to take a headcount of the inhabitants. Gregory was studying the working of Freddy’s hand and wrist carefully, the animatronic having removed the casings of his hand and arm to give him a better look. His upcoming exam would be to build an upgraded hand and attach it successfully, so seeing him take this engineering aspect seriously was good. Alex made note to quiz him on the software side of the upgrade later, no need to let Damien have all the fun.

Vanessa was out of the house, shopping for new clothes with Stephanie Daughn and Alex’s cousin Meera. It was the only way she could be out and about without Sydney following at her heels like a shadow. Those times Alex wondered if Afton had managed to break Sydney in some way, the way he took his bodyguard role so seriously when it came to the blonde woman. In those moments, Alex couldn’t think of him as Panther at all, could only worry that he brought him back wrong.

In the kitchen, Alex raised a hand in greeting as he headed for the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Sydney nodded in return, focused on chopping vegetables for whatever he planned to cook for dinner. Alex watched him for a few moments, sipping at the water as he compared his brother to his memory of Panther once again and mentally squirmed to evade the feeling of disappointment. He loved his brother, so why couldn’t he shake those urges to compare and contrast and point out differences to himself?

The blade of the knife tapping rapidly against the cutting board pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Sydney frowning at him, a knuckle raised to tap at his lips in signal. Alex fished his phone out and opened his custom app, holding it so the camera could capture his hand movements. “/If your face freezes like that, I’ll get the blame for it./” Sydney lectured with a faint scowl, fingers deftly signing out the words. He’d improved a lot with his use of sign language over the months. “/Something on your mind?/”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Alex replied with a sigh, waving the question away almost bitterly. Panther wouldn’t have asked that, would have just pointed at a cooler of beers and told him to grab one and watch the game with him if he was looking out of sorts. Sydney prodded at him, reminding him of things Alex didn’t want to think about, wanted to ignore.

“/Doesn’t look like nothing when you’re still frowning like that while we’re in a good place./” Sydney signed with a raised eyebrow. Again with the prodding into his business, trying to get into his head. Alex huffed in irritation. Why couldn’t he do that to others like he used to? Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone when he knew that he didn’t like the hovering?!

“Just had a bad game, okay?” he finally answered, grabbing for the one thing he could truthfully use as a shield, “What’s with the interrogation?!”

“/I was just asking!/” Sydney signed sharply, eyes wide and alarmed expression on his face, “/What the hell, Alex?/”

“Well, don’t! Like you said, you’re not my dad, so quit trying to act like it now!” Alex snapped and immediately cringed internally, wishing he could claw those words back.

Sydney only stared at him in confusion, head tilting as his brows furrowed together. No recognition of the words; another memory only Alex carried, adding to the gulf between him and the Panther he’d sought to save. Did he get the short end of the stick in this deal after all?

And thinking that just made Alex’s stomach twist, regret and self-loathing burning under his skin. He had Sydney, so that should be enough. It should be enough. He hated the tiny voice that crept into his thoughts, calling him a consolation. Sydney didn’t deserve that, not with all he’d done to try and do right by him.

His grip on his phone tightened as he moved to put it away. “/No, I’m not your dad, but I am your brother. Is that-/,” Sydney signed before the camera lost focus on his hands and further translation was lost.

Alex leaned back against the fridge, taking another drink of water and imagining it as the pungent taste of beer, the plastic of the bottle for hard glass, the smell of chopped vegetables for the plant decay of the Florida glades. “It’s nothing. You don’t remember, so it doesn’t matter now,” he muttered.

That was the crux of the issue, wasn’t it? Sydney didn’t remember. All the things Alex as Router admired Panther for, the way they worked together so well, understood each other, gave each other space.. Sydney didn’t have that, or barely had shadows of it. Even Pantera was just another source of frustration, a pale imitation of Panther, far too weak and lacking Panther’s power. It hurt even as he had smiled shallowly at Pantera’s foray into delivery jobs. Sydney hadn’t told him about his plan to go back into mercenary work, hadn’t requested he join in as the tech specialist, the hacker, the partner and equal he had fought hard to be seen as, and still held himself back from his true strength as Panther.

Silence lasted quite a while, and Alex glanced over at his brother, eyes narrowing slightly at the expression on his face. Sydney was looking aside, as if listening to something else with an uneasy and contemplative frown. After a moment he sighed and went back to chopping vegetables, gesturing with one hand to dismiss Alex.

That was weird. Alex scowled just a bit before turning away to head back to his room. He refused to acknowledge Gregory and Freddy looking at him in concern, pointedly keeping his eyes on his path up the stairs, water bottle in hand. He still had a game to finish and maybe he can take out his frustrations on some dumbasses in the next extraction zone.

#tw: self harm mention #panther #router #fnaf au #parlourverse au #the herrera brothers #vr protagonists #bits and pieces

[crazypossumman]

Tips for Pre-T or Early-T Transmascs That I Wish Someone Had Given Me

A list of tips that I, a transmasc dude, learned overtime that I wish someone had given me a lot earlier. Obviously, these aren't going to work for everyone, but I've found doing these things to be really helpful.

Shave your face every day you can/want to. Even if you "have no reason" to shave your face, do it anyway. Tell yourself that being cleanly shaven is a choice you make everyday. Also, most cis dudes with no facial hair are clean shaven, meaning none of that peach fuzz stuff, so this can actually help passing. As an added bonus, shaving can make the hair grow back faster, thicker, and fuller if you plan on wanting to grow a nice ass beard later in life.

Find a work out routine. Don't exercise thinking "I need to get thinner/broader/whatever else so that I can pass." Just don't. Exercise can only change your body type so much, and if you bank on it fixing all your dysphoria just to find out it doesn't, you'll get discouraged. Instead, use exercise to feel good about your body in other ways: feeling stronger, more energized, ready for a good nights sleep, etc. Feeling good about your body in this way can also help increase self esteem.

Write affirmations and nice letters to yourself. Whatever you need to hear, whatever you wish others were saying to you: write it down! Put sticky notes on your walls, fill a notebook with nice thoughts, etc. Need to hear that you're looking super masc today? Write it down. Say it aloud. Be your biggest supporter. Even if you don't believe it at first, you'll start to. This tip applies to literally everyone, by the way.

Packing is kind of over rated. Obviously, it can be gender affirming for some, and that's great! But most people probably aren't looking at your crotch, so if packing is uncomfortable for you, don't think it'll make or break your appearance. If you prefer not to, that's literally fine.

The same goes for binding! Binding is--unfortunately--just fucking uncomfortable. You don't have to do it all the time. A baggy hoodie and a decent sports bra can be lifesavers if you need a break from binding but are still feeling self conscious, too.

Do your best to stop giving a fuck. Don't let other people's opinions hurt you. Not everyone will support you. Not everyone will like you. That's fine. Again, be your own biggest supporter.

Find trans friends. Set up your HRT appointments together. Remind each other about your injections. Support each other. Again, not everyone will support you, so find people that will.

Plan your medical course of action carefully, especially if money is a concern. Decide your prioritize. If you think you would benefit best mentally and physically from starting HRT, do that first. If you think something else--therapy, anxiety meds, an operation--would be more helpful, then do that first. You always have more time. There will be more time, more money, more opportunities. Figure out what would be best for you to do first, and go with it. It'll help you in the long run.

Beware voice training tips. Trying to force a deep voice can hurt like a motherfucker. Also, when you're voice begins to drop, you may have to adjust the way you do certain things, like singing for example. Don't push yourself to make your voice uncomfortably high or low. If it hurts, just stop. Losing your voice or damaging your vocal cords is certainly not worth it.

HRT takes time, surgeries take time, life takes time. Take a deep breath. It's hard to feel like you're stuck in one place, but it will not last forever. Small steps forward are still steps forward. You've got this.

Bonus: Literally nothing is required of you. HRT, operations, and literally everything on this list is entirely optional, and it doesn't make you more or less valid than anyone else. (Just stab anyone who says otherwise /j)

(Obligatory self-promo: I'm an artist and writer! Check out my stuff! Pinned (Commissions) | Writing Masterlist | Kofi | Etsy)

#trans #transgender #trans is okay #trans is beautiful #transmasc #trans man #trans guy #ftm #trans ftm #ftm tips #transmascs tips #hrt #queer #lgbtqia+ #lgbt #enby #nonbinary #trans tips #hrt tips #trans stuff #tips #you've got this #trans rights #trans rights are human rights #fuck terfs #fuck transphobes #eat my fat trans cock if you even think about leaving a transphobic comment on this post

[apprenticestanheight]

heyheyhey!! someone wish me luck on getting the job I have an interview for tomorrow plsplspls

to convince you to wish me luck I have developed the pros and cons list of what will happen if I do get the job (I am also doing this for myself to really convince myself that I can DO THIS)

pros:

job = money

money = laptop after like two paychecks

laptop after two paychecks = more writing from yours truly (I am typing this while staring at my tv screen bc I use writing as a coping mechanism and located an HDMI cable which is also some of the reason requests have been on the slower end--I have to have my glasses on in order to see on such a big screen. I am typing this sentence while not wearing them to test how bad it is and i have to squint like I'm at the back of the room to see the screen less blurrily)

fixed term contract (seems like a con but stay with me) means I'll only be working like, 10-12 weeks which yeah not so great BUT I get experience and experience means more consistent 9-5 later on, plus if I save money while I work (aside from laptop that is a necessary purchase bc again, if I have to stare at my tv screen for another six months there will be tears and begging while I point desperately at my currently opened commissions) then I can have a bit of a backspace to fall on, yk?? like. if I ever decide I want something when I'm not working or if I need to buy more like?? bodywash?? idk, I don't have to crawl to my dad like "heyheyhey scary 5'8-ish adult man, I will do the dishes, clean the fridge AND the pantry for the low low price of $40 when you also happen to get paid"

will get me out of the house! I am stuck here all except for maybe once or twice in between the pay periods of my parents (they are my rides everywhere and they get paid biweekly so when they go for groceries I'm like HEY LET ME COME I WANNA EXPERIENCE EXTERNAL AIR PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEE) and getting to leave the house and work with the people I'll be working with will also significantly reduce my anxiety, which I have to talk to my dr about putting me on meds for bc it has become debilitating.

I ONLY WILL WORK LIKE, 3-4 DAYS A WEEK!! The shifts are SUPER LONG which yeah not great but its a 40 hour week and that money will be good money (which I will put into a savings account that will build interest!!)

MONEYMONEYMONEYHONEYYYYYYY!! It adds up pretty quickly and making a dollar and fifty cents above minimum wage will mean that I'll be getting close to a thousand dollars if they pay me biweekly and close to five hundred if they pay me every week. 500-1000 dollars is a lot of money for a new laptop but also,, also a lot of money for a gym membership plus treats of both the caffeine and the liquor store variety (I will be nineteen in three weeks and feel like weed will be a better experience than alc was. I had fun that night but if I ever cry over not having enough money to order pizza again pls just glare at me)

work experience!! This job is a fixed contract job (I am starting to sound like a broken record with this oops) so it'll be less than half a year but it STILL WORKS!! Plus it'll be a good lesson and help me decide whether or not I want to pursue a career in working in old folks homes and if I can handle doing so for twelve hour days for the rest of my life. It'll be a learning experience that I can add to my resume and help me decide which jobs I'll either look towards or away from once I start looking for a job after the contracts fixed term is completed.

cons bc I am in fact thinking of those

working 3-4 days a week is great, right?? right?? yeah that part is where the goodness of the work schedule will kind of stop off bc yeah, three days on four days off is amazing but I'll be working 7-7. I also unfortunately happen to know myself and I know myself well enough to know that having to go into work at seven in the morning will result in me waking up at half past five in the morning to get ready and drink either an energy drink or three cups of coffee. I also like staying up until midnight so I will be stubbornly running on five hours of sleep lol.

occasionally needing to work weekends isn't that bad but its just--I can be a morning person during the week with an energy drink or three cups of coffee and those things only. On the weekends I sleep in late and I make coffee anyway bc its my routine, but waking up at 5:30 for a weekend shift is going to have me hangry and exhausted by noon.

the only other con that I can think of for this is that the twelve hour shifts could send me into burn out very very quickly. On the one hand I keep telling myself "yeah you'll work 36 hours in three days BUT you'll also have four days to sleep the burn out off and engage in hobbies that make the burn out easier to handle" but on the other I just--I know myself well enough to know that two and a half months of burn out from working twelve hour shifts through to the end of march could have me fully burnt out until the middle of may. I just keep wondering if the fact that I'm gonna be making a dollar fifty above minimum wage for two and a half months is really worth the exhaustion both physically and mentally lol.

#cal talks

[dirtywresling102]

Crossroads Deal - Finn Balor (18+)

Demon!King!Finn Balor x Melanie

Commission: @thepalaceofmelanie

Summary: Making a deal with the Demon!Balor but instead of wanting Melanie's soul he wants to make her his sex slave.

Warnings: 18+, Minor DNI, Smut, Public!Sex, Sex in a library, Studying for finals, Blowjob.

Word Count: 3,258 

Follow my main blog: @dirtywrestling

Like my writing? Leave a tip!

Enjoy!

Pushing the gravel back into the hole where I had placed my picture in a tin can, standing up, I looked around to see if anyone was in sight. Nothing. Legend has it if someone put a picture of themself in a small canister along with graveyard dirt and a black cat skull and bury it in the center of the crossroads, they could summon a demon and strike a deal, but of course there was a price, in ten years some sort of creature comes and collects what’s theirs. 

Luckily when I dug up the tin box and opened it up there already had the ingredients inside and a couple of old photos of other people making deals in the past. I heard about the crossroads deals from my Mythology college class last term, of course I didn’t think anything of it, just an old tale but doing my research and finding out people actually have sold their souls for fame, money, looks, whatever they name it and they got it. 

College was becoming irritating, ten hour shifts at work on my shoulders didn’t help and I was constantly worrying if I’ll have enough money for rent. I needed something to change.

“You rang.” A Irish accent filled my ears, jumping slightly, I turned around to see a tall, handsome man in a black suit. His dark hair short and slightly styled where his greenish blue eyes burned into me, his stare lasting longer than a few seconds. I couldn’t help but to blush as I noticed his eyes slightly wander over my body.

“Are you really…” Words couldn’t form in my brain let alone finish the sentence I started. Was this actually happening, demons were real? 

“The Demon King? Yeah, I'm also a crossroad dealer.” The male smirked, his memorizing greenish blue eyes turning ruby red. Blinking, they went back to his normal color. “The names Finn.” 

“I’m-”

“I already know your name, sweetheart.” He cuts me off before I get the chance to introduce myself.

“You do?” My eyebrows arched in curiosity, wondering how he already knew my name.

“Of course. I know the name of every person who wants to make a deal, Melanie.” The Demon King named Finn licked his lips and stepped closer, the gravel underneath his shiny black business shoes crunched with each step. “So, what can I do for you, dear?” Finn was now only a few feet away, his form nearly towering over me. 

Swallowing thickly, I didn’t think I’d make it this far. I actually didn’t think this would work, just following some myth and the help of some reddit reviews from some possible emo kid sulking in the dark. All of this was a cry for help to get me out of what I was in. “I want to be wealthy with money.” I finally spoke out the truth of why I summoned him.

“Blah.” Finn spat. “You humans and money,” Finn started to circle around me, my eyes never leaving him. I quickly turned my head to the other side as it was starting to crank my neck. “Why, can a boy you like fall in love with you?” Finn laughed at my needs.

“Psh, no.” I scoffed at him for trying to assume and twist my words. 

“Pay off that mortgage?” Finn spat back another reason why I could have possibly summoned him.

“I wish.” I sighed, looking down at the gravel. What was his deal and trying to guess why I needed this money? Why couldn’t he just give me what I wanted and leave?

“Get that dream car you’ve always wanted?” Finn guessed once more, his Irish accent filling my ears.

“Not even close.” I crossed my arms and looked at him. 

Finn stopped guessing and stared back at me, eyes squinting. “Then why is it everytime I make a deal with most of you humans it’s always about money?” Finn hissed, it sounded like he was mostly annoyed than anything. He must get deals with people about money a lot.

“I’m in college, I’m on my own, I nearly work myself to death just to keep up with my rent and college is tiring along with it. I just want to live my life without having to worry about money.” I frowned, finally confessing onto why I summoned him tonight. 

“So, you’re willing to give up your soul in the next ten years just for money?” Finn was baffled, he blinked as he waited for my answer.

“Well, when you put it like that.” I reassured myself, my hand going to my arm and rubbing it in comfort, trying not to back out of this silly deal. Should I ask for more or something for else? I felt so small compared to him as he pointed out the flaw of this deal I wanted to make.

“Listen, I’ll make a deal with you.” Finn shoved his hands into the suit jacket pockets and stood there casually. “I’ll give you what you want, I’ll stuff your bank account with so many zeros and with no questions asked from the bank tellers.” 

“And you want my soul in return?” I followed up after his deal he proposed. 

“No, something better.” Finn pulled his left hand out of his pocket, placing it upon his scruffy chin. Watching his moves made me want to reach out and stroke his facial hair. I watched his large hand stroke his beard, my eyes never leaving his slender fingers. I swallowed, not even realizing I was salivating in my mouth at how much of a good looking man he was, even if he was a demon. Knowing his large hand he could take me with one tight grip around my throat. 

I couldn’t help but to clear my throat and squeeze my thighs together. I needed to stay focused and not have my mind in the gutter right now. “Like what?” My voice cracked slightly, I knew better, I should have just headed to my car and left, forget about this night and never come back to the crossroads again, but the other part of me wanted to stay, see what he had to offer. 

Before Finn spoke, he shoved his left hand back into his blazer pocket. “I get to have my way with you, whenever and wherever I want.” Finn said nonchalantly, his gaze lazily looking over me. As if he wasn’t interested in me but knew it would be fun to offer the deal.

I blinked, trying to think what he meant by that. “You… You mean have sex with me?” I choked. 

“Yeah, basically a sex slave.” Finn shrugged, as if he wasn’t bothered by anything. “If you don’t like the deal I could just make it to where I come and collect your soul in ten years.” Finn suggested. “Well, not me but my Hellhounds.”

“Hellhounds?” I questioned him. “Is that like a dog or something?” I didn’t understand what he meant by that. 

“More or less, basically they come and rip you apart and collect your soul to bring it down to Hell for my collection.” Finn pulled his hand once more and checked out his nails in a bored manner.

Biting my lower lip, I fiddled with my fingers. Now it was my turn to check out his body fitted in the tight suit. Finn huffed out a breath, folding his arms together, his biceps flexing. “I can let you think-”

“I’ve thought about it.” I blurted out, interpreting him.

“Oh yeah,” He purred, the words rolling off of his tongue like silk. “And what’s your choice, sweetheart?” 

“I’ll do it, I’ll take your deal.” I said without a second thought. I now didn’t know if I was doing this for the money still or to be in the sheets with this demon.

“Great!” Finn smirked, coming closer to me. 

“So, how do we seal the deal? Handshake, I sign my name on a contract with?” I started to extend my hand out towards him.

“Something like that.” He murmured, pulling me closer to him by the waist, his free hand caressed my cheek, leaning down he pressed his lips against mine, planting a surprisingly soft kiss.

My eyes widened, placing my hand on top of his chest. I tried to push the Demon King away. My eyes slowly fluttered shut, I stopped trying to push him away and melted into his touch. Finn pulled away from me, gasping softly for air. I looked up at the demon. “You made a great deal, Melanie.” Finn chuckled. “See you soon.”

That was three months ago. At first I thought Finn would come back in a couple of days but soon days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. He was faithful on his end of the deal, I had money in my bank where I could retire today if I wanted to. My fridge was stocked with groceries, my cabinet stuffed with canned goods, my car even had a full tank of gas every week.

Finals were around the corner and I was spending my saturday at the local library, other students from the college were there too, noses in books, staring at computer screens, some students were so tired from studying they fell asleep their elbows propped up on the table while they rested their head in the palm of their hands, drooling. 

Standing up from my table I forgot one more book for my anatomy class. Walking down the aisle of the large bookshelves I stopped in the health section, my fingers dancing along the spines of the books, looking for the one I needed. 

“Looking for this?” A rich Irish accent asked. Jumping slightly, I looked to my right to see the Demon King, holding up some kind of book about romance. 

I couldn’t help but to giggle. “No.” I grinned at him for picking out such a book.

Finn frowned, looking at the book and placing it randomly on the shelf where it didn’t belong, obviously romance didn’t belong in the health aisle. “I thought you females adore romance novels?” 

“I’d love to be reading about that, but sadly I’m studying for my anatomy final. It's coming up in a few days.” I started to look for the book I needed again, my attention back to the shelf skimming through the books.

“Listen, that’s hot and all,  I’d love to see you study for a final,” Finn teased me about studying in the library. “but I have something else better in mind.” Finn licked his lips and gave a mischievous smile.

“And what could that possibly be?” I asked, looking towards him, my eyes casted downwards, only to grow wide and quickly look back up at him. “You’re joking?” I gasped, Finn was standing there with a pinched tent pressing against his black pants.

“Oh no darling, you see I’ve had quite the chub since I’ve met you.” Finn’s Irish accent thickens with lust. 

“Why now? Why here?” I squeaked, quickly looking around. Luckily nobody was near us until someone needed something from the human resources section. 

“Well, you know how Hell is, soul meetings, soul counts, more meetings, keeping Hell from going, well, you know, Hell.” He chuckled at his word play.

“Okay, I get it. You do a lot of things in Hell to make Hell less Hellish. I have to study for this final so I won’t fail this course, I need to get an ‘A’ on this.” I sighed, trying to find the book I was looking for before Finn appeared.

“May I remind you, Melanie. A deal is a deal.” A growl rumbled from Finn’s chest, his eyes appeared glowing red, they flashed back to his normal colors. “Or you know, I could take away that money and let you struggle again.”

“No!” I said a bit too loudly only to look behind me to see if anyone was there to shush me. Swallowing my pride I turned to face the Demon King. “No, a deal is a deal, I’ll obey.” 

“Now that’s what I like to hear.” He purred lowly, stalking towards me. He towered over me, being a foot and a couple of inches taller than me. “I’ll try not to have you screaming my name, this is a place of silence after all.” Finn snapped his fingers, my clothes disappearing leaving me nude for anyone to see. The cool stale air hitting my bare skin, my nipples becoming slightly hard.

Quickly, I crossed my legs and my hands flew up to my breasts to cover them. Finn tisked, “Don’t play coy now love, you’ve enjoyed this, trust me.” Finn unbuckled his black belt around his black pants. “Just trust me on this, you do trust me, right?” His eyes flashed back to those beautiful bloody red colors. 

“Yes.” I breathed out, it was as if I was under his spell.

The red faded back to his greenish blue eye color. “Great.” Pushing his pants down, Finn rubbed himself through his black boxers. “Now, be a good girl and get on your knees.” 

Obeying his command, I lowered myself onto my knees, the carpet feeling uncomfortable as the rough fabric rubbed up against my skin. “Open.” Finn pushed his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock sprung up, hitting his toned stomach. Gulping, I tore my eyes away from his throbbing erection and looked up at him. “I said, ‘open’.” He demanded again, his words like venom this time, his patients thinning. Slowly opening my mouth, Finn grabbed my jaw, forcing my mouth to open up wider. He shoved his salty mushroom tip into my mouth, down my throat. “Hmm fuck.” Finn let out a deep moan. 

Water built up in the corner of my eyes, I tried to catch a breath before he shoved his cock further down my throat again. Digging my nails into his hips, I tried to get him to slow down. His erection thrusting in and out my throat I quickly tapped on his waist to stop. Finn pushed his cock as far down my throat as he could and slowly pulled out. Siliva connected from the tip of his dick to my lips which broke, making it snap back onto my face. Gasping, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “What- What the fuck?” I hissed up at him while wiping my tears away. 

“Sorry, I got out of control.” Finn grumbled, helping me up to my feet. I didn’t want to do this anymore if he was capable of getting out of hand. “I promise it won’t happen again, Melanie. We’ll have a safe word.”

“I think the word ‘stop’ is understandable.” I snapped, giving him a glare.

“Again, my apologies.” He combed his fingers through his dark short hair. “Okay, okay. Stop is our safe word.” 

“It isn’t a safe word, stop means stop.” I nearly barked at him. Finn’s eyes darkened this time, grabbing me by the waist and pinned me against the tall bookshelf. The books slightly rattling behind me.

“I said I’m sorry, now let me claim what’s mine.” Finn grunted, his hard cock nudging against my wet lips. “Oh my.” He smirked in a teasing manner, letting go of my waist with one hand and dipped it in between my thighs, feeling the wet coating. “I think someone got wet from me being too rough.” 

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I looked away from the demon. Finn dipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking off the juices. His eyes shut for a moment before fluttering them open as he pulled his fingers out from his mouth. “Hmm, so sweet.”  He moaned. Finn grabbed my waist again, making me jump up. He hooked his arms underneath my legs, my back pinned against the rough shelves. “Finally.” Finn whispered, he pushed the tip of his cock past my wet folds. “Holy Hell, I knew you’d be tight.” Finn sighed out, his head tossing back slightly. 

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as Finn pushed his full length inside of me, not giving me time to adjust around his cock. “Fuck, you’re- you’re deep.” Digging my nails deep into his shoulder, I left small nail marks on his skin. I was a bit worried that he was going to split me into two. 

“Such a good girl, taking my whole cock.” Finn whimpered, his thrusts becoming deeper, slamming his cock faster. The bookshelf behind me shook and creaked, a few books from the top fell onto the ground with a loud thud. Quickly looking down each side of the aisle for anyone to come by. 

“Don’t worry about love, we’re fine.” Finn grunted. “Just relax and enjoy my cock.” Finn pressed his lips against mine, shoving his tongue into my mouth, our tongues dancing against each other. 

A coil tightened in my lower stomach as Finn kept pumping his cock in and out of my drenched pussy. “I’m close.” I whined against his lips. Finn pulled away, opening his eyes that were now ruby red.

“I am too, sweetheart.” Finn grunted in my ear. My walls tightened around his pulsing member, my body was shaking with arousal, beads of sweat formed on Finn’s forehead, his muscles flexed underneath his suit. “Fuck, come with me Melanie, come with me.” He nearly roared out.

Crying out Finn’s name we both came at the same time, our juices colliding together. Finn thrust a few more times, pushing his come further inside of me. 

He slowly pulled out, our juices oozed out of my fucked pussy and dripped onto the salmon color carpet. Finn chuckled deeply. “Someone likes to be filled with cream.” Finn teased, helping me onto my own two feet. Finn snapped his fingers, clothes appeared on my body while he adjusted his pants. 

“I should uh, get back to studying.” I murmured, fixing my hair before anyone sees me.

“Here, I think you need this while you study.” Finn grabbed a random book from the shelf and gave it to me. It was the book I was looking for in my anatomy class.

“How did you-”

“I watch you all the time, love, I know.” He chuckled lowly and left on that note.

That was three years ago. College was finally over, I quit my job and moved in with Finn down in Hell. Sure he used me for a sex slave for a couple of months but we both soon caught feelings for each other and moved to the next stage.

“Mommy! Mommy!” My son came running up to me. “Daddy won’t play with me!” I couldn’t help but to laugh, picking up my son and carrying him down the hallway. 

“You know how daddy is, he works a lot, being King isn’t easy.” 

“My queen, would you like me to make lunch for the little one?” One of the demons that helped around asked me.  

“Yes please, thank you.” I nodded, making my way to the throne room. I saw Finn sitting on the throne, murmuring to himself as he rubbed his beard, it looked like he was in train of thought. I let my son down who ran towards my husband. 

“Well, well, well. Isn’t it my queen and little prince.” Finn smirked, putting the paper work away. Finn picked up the Prince of Hell and placed him on his lap. “Let’s raise a little bit of trouble, shall we?” Finn winked towards my direction.

#Finn balor #Finn Balor smut #finn balor imagine #finn balor #wwe smut #wrestling smut #finn balor one shot #wrestling fanfic #wrestling blog #wrestling one shots #finn balor fanfic #dirty wrestling #wrestling imagines #wrestling #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe #smut

[moon-spirit-yue]

It's Not Living (if it's Not With You)

Chapter 1: Raya Ran into Some Complications

(TW WARNING!!!!!! This mini series is based heavily on the show Criminal Minds so if murder mysteries and descriptions of that sort of thing are not for you, just don’t read this fic. It’s not like my other fics where I let you know of a small uncomfortable part. I really don’t want to make this fic too horrific and gory, but it will get dark. Basically, if you can get though an episode of Criminal Minds this fic will be fine. These sorts of topics are not for everyone so please just be aware of this if you choose to proceed)

“Please don’t hurt me this way! I have a wife! And a sweet baby boy! How could you be so cruel?!” Raya whimpered, turning her head away from the monster that was trying to torture her.

“God, you are so dramatic,” Noi snorted without looking up from her book. 

“Okay first of all, your “wife” does not count, and second, you don’t have any kids,” Tong began before getting cut off.

“Objection! Tuk Tuk is my beautiful son and I don’t appreciate you acting like he isn’t,” Raya huffed. “And I am married! Sisu and I have the certificate framed and everything! What’s with the judgement? Is it because we’re gay?” 

“I’m pretty sure the judgement is coming from the fact that you two only got married to get grant money for college,” Boun laughed.

“And who the hell asked you, twerp?” Raya glared.

“Your dog and sham marriage do not count,” Tong sighed.

“You know, you’re being awfully negative to someone who literally got shot at this morning,” Raya grumbled as she reluctantly opened her eyes.

“Yeah well, the unsub missed and honestly? I’m kinda wishing he met his mark. Now wake up,” the unit chief scowled. 

“Oh please! We’re the smallest unit in the BAU! If I get shot and go out of commission we’d literally have no choice but to dissolve and relocate to other units,” Raya scoffed. “And you know that Noi despises change.”

“It’s true. My mother used a different kind of cereal to feed me as kid because my usual stuff was out of stock and I protested by refusing to eat breakfast until I got my cereal back,” Noi confirmed.

“And you call me dramatic,” Raya laughed.

The bickering continued like it always did until they finally landed back in Quantico, their beloved home base. The quartet wearily got off the plane single file and entered the FBI building. It was long a flight and they were all ready to crash.

“Hello my dazzling little agents! How is everyone?” Sisu greeted them once they got on their floor.

“Feeling like I’m about to pass out. The guy was maniac. I mean, who carries three guns on their person at all times? Even for a serial killer, it’s a tad excessive,” Boun groaned.

“I do not envy any of you. It’s bad enough I have to see the crime photos, I could not imagine having to see the guy that caused them, let alone capture him,” Sisu shivered.

“This job is certainly not for the faint of heart,” Tong confirmed.

That was the understatement of the year. 

“Agreed. Hey Sisu, can you drive me? If I go behind the wheel I’m scared I’ll fall asleep,” Raya asked.

“Anything for the wife!” Sisu laughed. Boun and Noi had small smiles on their faces as Tong loudly sighed in displeasure.

“The sanctity of marriage is wasted on you people!” Tong declared.

“We’ll get a divorce one day, don’t worry sir,” Raya giggled.

“A man can only dream. Alright, before we all disperse, I do want to say that you all truly outdid yourselves this past week. The unsub did his damn hardest to shake us off, but we managed to pull through. I really am proud of how this team has grown,” Tong said.

The other four agents beamed at his words. As much as the whole team likes picking on each other at every possible opportunity, they really did care about each other and yearned for their boss’s approval. The next words he said were not nearly as uplifting.

“We’re going to need to get in here early tomorrow. We’re all behind on some important documents that have to get on my desk by the end of the month,” the unit chief stated with a stern look on his face. 

“Boooooo!” Boun groaned. 

“Dang it, I thought he forgot about that,” Noi mumbled.

Raya just decided to stick with her classic pout. She’s getting too tired to talk.

“On that note, I’m going home to my wife, that I married for the right reasons,” Tong said, shooting a look at Raya and Sisu. 

The other four then went their separate ways, mumbling some tired goodbyes and see you tomorrows. Sisu had to practically drag Raya to her car and shoved her in. 

“At least stay awake until we get home,” Sisu sighed while starting the car.

“Can we just go to your place for night? Tuk Tuk’s already there and it’s closer,” Raya mumbled.

Tuk Tuk always stayed with Sisu when Raya was out on assignments so she really didn’t feel like relocating him tonight. Plus, she had a good portion of her stuff at Sisu’s anyways.

“I had a feeling you’d say that. Your bed is already made,” Sisu laughed.

“Have I told you that I literally love you?” the agent yawned.

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt me to hear it more often,” Sisu laughed. 

“Oh, do you still need help dying your roots?” Raya asked. 

She was now vaguely remembering Sisu asking for her help at some point when she was out on her previous assignment. Considering the fact that some dude with mommy issues damn near killed her, the text was shoved in the back of Raya’s mind for a hot minute.  

“Yeah, but let’s save that for tomorrow. I don’t think you can be trusted with anything permanent right now,” her best friend said, side eyeing how Raya was nodding off.

It took everything in her to muster up the strength to give Sisu a thumbs up, so that’s probably for the best. Raya’s pretty sure she did fall asleep during the brief car ride because she blinked and bam! There was Sisu’s house.

“Carry me,” Raya demanded, slumped over.

“Oh my god,” Sisu groaned

After much pulling and tugging on Sisu’s part, they made it through the front door and was greeted by Tuk Tuk’s little yips of happiness. Raya grinned the second she saw her fluffy puppy and began pressing kisses on his furry face.

“I missed you, my beautiful baby! Oh yes I did! Yes I did!” Raya cooed as her precious pup licked her cheek.

“I’m gonna turn in. Anything you need?” Sisu asked her.

“Uh, can you drop Tuk and I off at our house before work? I just got the notification that my package got delivered and it is dangerously unsupervised right now. Other than that I’m good,” Raya explained.

“That’s fine. See you tomorrow, bestie. Love you! And I love you too Tuk!” Sisu said while scratching his fluffy ears.

“We love you too. Night!” Raya waved as she walked into her designated room.

She kicked off her shoes and changed her clothes before immediately flopping on the bed. Raya heard Tuk Tuk jump on the bed and snuggled right next to her. She multitasked by using one hand to pet her dog and the other to text her father she’s back in Quantico, safe and sound. 

One of the major downsides of this job is knowing her father is going into cardiac arrest whenever a case pops up. He tried to convince her for weeks not to take the job but alas, her mind was made up. So then Benja decided to force to send texts when she left for a case and when she came back. Raya carelessly tossed her phone on the other side of the bed once the message was sent and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

****************************

The best way to wake up is seeing Tuk Tuk’s adorable face right beside her. Man, she missed this dog. 

Raya had to speed through her morning routine to get out the door at a reasonable hour. Ushering Sisu to get moving, Raya and Tuk Tuk were already waiting in her car by the time she got in.

“You know, you’re a lot less pushy when you’re tired,” Sisu huffed while driving off.

“It’s not my fault someone’s stealing packages from people’s doorsteps!” Raya exclaimed.

“You’re a profiler, catch them!” Sisu snapped.

“Too busy tracking down serial killers, thank you,” Raya told her.

“I hope you have an extra load of paperwork to finish,” Sisu glared.

“You are so hateful in the morning,” Raya frowned. 

They made it to Raya’s front door with no serious injuries, so she grabbed Tuk Tuk and made her way home.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Sisu yelled.

“I’m good! See you in the office!” Raya yelled back.

Her beloved wife nodded and proceeded to drive to work. Raya turned her attention to where her packages get dropped off at. 

She absolutely beamed at seeing her mail sitting there, unstolen by the neighborhood thief. Raya grabbed the package and tapped the passcode lock combo to let herself and Tuk in.

Raya awkwardly opened the door to let Tuk Tuk in first and kicked her package in the house. Stumbling in herself, she gave the house a quick clean from it’s lack of use. Once Raya finished eating cereal straight from the box, she was already back out the door.

“Tuk Tuk, take care of the house for me while I’m gone, will ya?” Raya asked the little pup. He gave a bark in response which in Raya’s mind meant he totally agreed to her task. 

“I love you bud! See you tonight!” Raya said before locking up her house and getting into her car.

The FBI building wasn’t that far away but of course it was far away enough to hit some major morning traffic. Patience isn’t exactly where Raya shines. She didn’t even have the time to go to her favorite coffee place.

Finally, she was able to make her exit and entered the building of her workplace. She walked up to her desk to be greeted with Boun and Noi arguing over what case they think will be chosen next.

“I’m telling you, those murders down in Texas have to be serial! There’s just too many gun related deaths!” Noi exclaimed. 

“No way, there’s several missing people in North Carolina that have never returned for the past couple weeks! Oh Raya, you’re here! Hey, which case do you think is the next one?” Boun asked as she plopped into her small cubicle.

“No clue. Have either of you guys started your paperwork just at a curiosity?” Raya asked, pulling over her papers. 

Noi and Boun looked at each other guiltily before scrambling to get their own papers out. Raya snorted and shook her head before focusing in on her own work. Those two remind her of actual kids and the fact that they’re both younger than her doesn’t help.

The day was an uncommonly quiet one. Tong summoned them all near the end of it to discuss the files they had to get through in one of the meeting rooms.

“We did make good progress on what we finished today, but there’s still a hell of a lot more to be done. I highlighted which ones are top priority and we need to-” Tong began but was cut off by a random voice.

“SSA Spine, I’m very sorry to interrupt, but someone needs to speak to one of your agents,” the person told them.

“Did any of you have plans for company?” Tong asked with a raised brow. 

The other four agents shook their head while giving each other looks. Who on earth could be looking for one of them? 

“Well which agent do they need? And who’s asking?” Tong questioned further.

“Oh, Virana Fang wanted to speak with Agent Heart,” the woman said.

Raya’s blood somehow chilled and boiled at the same time. Seriously, Virana? Of all the fucking people that could meet with her? 

“Isn’t she like, a big time attorney? Raya, did you get into someone legal trouble?” Boun asked with furrowed brows.

“No, no I did not get into legal troubles. We know each other from uh, I guess when I was in college. And let me tell you, she is not a fan of mine. The fact that she’s here is honestly making me feel rather nervous,” Raya frowned. 

“Oh my god, I remember her! Man, she did not like you,” Sisu scoffed.

“Did Mrs. Fang say what exactly she wanted?” Tong asked.

“No, all she said was that it was urgent,” the woman answered.

“Do you want to tell her you aren’t available? I’m not entirely sure what’s going on but I can see your hackles raised, Raya,” Tong said with concern. Raya stood up from her chair.

“There’s no point. The woman’s relentless. If she says she wants to see me, she will see me. I have a feeling I am not going to like this conversation,” the agent sighed as she reluctantly followed the woman.

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” Noi inquired.

“That’s fine. I can take her in a fight,” Raya joked as she left the room. 

Once the door got closed behind her, she allowed the dread to kick. Tong was right, her hackles were raised. What the hell could Virana possibly want with her? 

Raya’s arms were crossed and her jaw clenched as she approached Virana. Oh, how Raya loathed her regal, menacing face. The older woman looked professional and impeccable as Raya has always known her to be. Never a speck of dirt on her clothes nor a strand of her hair out place. Confidence and ferocity ooze from her every pore, ready to suffocate anyone that tries to challenge her. This is how Virana Fang presents herself. 

But the Virana Fang Raya is currently looking at doesn’t have the usual intensity she frequently possesses. Instead she looks around anxiously, like something terrible is about to happen. The agent can’t find it in herself to feel any sort of sympathy for this woman. 

“Virana Fang. Why have you come to haunt me on this otherwise peaceful afternoon?” Raya drawled. Mrs. Fang almost seemed startled to find Raya standing right in front of her.

“I do not have time for your typical unnecessary remarks. Look, I want to keep this as short as possible. The bottom line is, I need your help,” Virana whispered quickly.

“I’m sorry, you need my help? Me? Raya Heart? My help?” Raya asked, utterly baffled. Virana stiffly nodded in response. 

Raya blinked once. Twice. Three times. Then she smiled. A smile turned to a laugh. What kind of bullshit is she playing at?

“Does it sound like I’m joking? What punchline did I just deliver?” the woman hissed. 

“Oh come on, I’m sure even you can see the irony in this? I mean you asked for my help, Mrs. Fang! God that’s hilarious!” Raya laughed. She honestly can’t take this situation seriously. “You know, it’s probably best if you just go. I thought I could get through this conversation but I think I overestimated myself. Please, have the day you deserve.”

Raya shook her head and turned away but the other woman’s hand stopped Raya. The agent looked back and saw how desperate Virana really looked. Before the agent could respond, Virana decided to speak words that alarmed her even more.

“Listen, I am well aware that in a perfect world, we never see each other again, but this world is not perfect. In a perfect world, my daughter would not be in danger,” Virana hissed in a frenzy.

This conversation could not get any more insane. What on earth was going on with Namaari? If Raya had any doubts about helping the lawyer, they were all gone now.

While her and Namaari weren’t exactly having sleepovers and braiding each other’s hair, Raya still cares about her. Plus, Namaari was certainly in better standing with her than Virana. (Then again, the raccoon that dug around in Raya’s trash last week was in better standing with her than Virana so that didn’t really mean much.)

“Fine, I’ll bite. Why is Namaari in danger?” Raya asked with annoyance. 

“Because a serial killer is after her. That’s why I came to you, considering the fact that catching them is your job,” the older told her in a low voice.

The agent’s jaw dropped. A serial killer? After Namaari? Well, to be fair, Namaari is a lawyer so it’s entirely possible a client is out for revenge? 

“How can you be so sure? I assume you came with evidence because this is not something I can just take your word for,” Raya managed to ask.

“Of course I came with proof, but I would prefer to speak of this in a more private setting,” Virana requested. First reasonable thing she’s said since she got here.

“Follow me,” the agent relented. Raya spend up the stairs to the conference room her team was in with Virana hot on her heels. 

“Hey, sir, can I use your office really quickly? It’s important,” Raya asked while gesturing to Virana.

“Of course,” Tong nodded while giving the two of them a suspicious glance. She is so getting interrogated when this conversation is over.

Raya then walked to Tong’s office and closed the door behind her once Virana stepped in. The agent sat on the little couch in the office with crossed arms.

“Lay it on me, Fang. Why do you think a serial killer is coming for Namaari?” Raya asked. 

Virana opened her briefcase and pulled out two envelopes. She handed them both to Raya. 

“Just look at the cases with those two girls that have unfortunately passed away. I’m sure you’ll realize I’m right,” Virana said while sitting on the chair across from her.

The lawyer said it in such a haughty way that it made Raya really hope that there isn’t a case for more than just Namaari’s safety. The agent took the two envelopes from her and opened the first one.

The first girl’s name was Anchali Chakan. She was born in Nebraska, moved to New York when she was ten, then transferred to a college in Maryland where she’s lived ever since. She got married only three months ago to her long time girlfriend, now wife. Or, now widow. A relatively normal upbringing from what Raya can tell. She had dreams of being an artist and made some very impressive pieces before her passing. Now that Raya knows the basics about this girl, it’s time to get into the actual crime that was committed.

Yikes. That is the first word that comes into her mind when she saw the picture of this woman’s untimely death. Raya doesn’t care how many cases she comes across, she will never get over all the horrible ways people kill. 

The murder happened in her house on March 1st. The place where she’s meant to feel safest. There was bruises around Anchali’s neck, an obvious sign of strangulation. Medical reports say that her windpipe got crushed which was the cause of her death. But alas, the atrocities did not stop there. There was an arrow that went straight through her neck. The only thing that made that detail a little less horrific was the fact that the arrow was stabbed into her neck post mortem. Raya cringed, shook her head, and went on to the second case.

The second woman is Cai Lan. She grew up in New York and stayed there until her last days. Unlike Anchali, Cai was born into poverty and had to claw her way out. She had been a foster kid since she was five, homeless for a period time in her late teens, went into massive debt getting into college, and had to live in an RV until three years ago. Cai did manage to make her way into upper society by scoring a manager position at a financial firm.

Cai’s murder occurred exactly one month after the first one, April 1st. It took place in Cai’s home just like Anchali’s. Again, just like Anchali’s murder, Cai was also strangled to death and ended up with an arrow through her neck post mortem. Looking closer at the arrow, Raya was disturbed to find that there was a heart at the front of the arrow. She glanced back at Anchali’s crime scene and found the heart was at the front of her arrow as well. 

Was the killer trying to imitate cupid’s bow? Ah, shit. This case is one hundred percent serial. But Raya still can’t see the connection with Namaari.

“I will give credit where credit is due, this is a serial case. Even though it crosses state lines, the signature is way too specific to be the average murder. I still don’t understand what this has to do with Namaari, though,” Raya sighed, looking up at Virana.

“Both of these girls are Namaari’s ex-girlfriends. Their break ups were very friendly and the two of them stayed in contact with Namaari after their relationships had ended. It’s how she became aware of their passing,” Virana said. 

For the first time since she entered the office, Virana had a mournful look on her face. Raya may have actually found it in her to feel bad for her but there was a very serious problem at hand. Then the attorney handed Raya another envelope, though this one was much smaller.

The very stressed agent opened it up and felt all color drain from her face. There was two plastic baggies with strands of hair. One strand of hair was significantly lighter than the other.

“Please tell me these weren’t mailed to you,” Raya begged, looking up at her. Virana’s grim face told her everything she needed to know.

“Two days after Anchali was killed, we got this bag with the light brown hair. News of her death hadn’t reached us yet, so we weren’t quite sure what to make of it and sent it to the police for investigation and figured out who it belonged to. Same thing with Cai,” Virana told her.

Wordlessly, the agent pulled out her phone to check the date. All the color drained from her face when she saw that today’s date is May 1st. 

“Follow me, we don’t have much time,” Raya commanded.

Raya gathered all of the evidence presented and all but sprinted out of the room. The older woman quickly followed suit. The two of them barreled into the conference office where her teammates were sitting. They all flinched when Raya tossed all the information of this new case on the desk. 

“Listen up people, we have to get through this quickly. Here you see two girls going by the names of Anchali Chakan and Cai Lan. The connection between their murders is the fact that they were both in a romantic relationship with Namaari Fang. They both died from strangulation. Part of the unsub’s signature is to put an arrow through their victim’s neck after they passed,” Raya said, talking a mile a minute.

“So it’s personal. Is, is that a heart at the tip of the bow?” Noi frowned, pulling the photo closer to her.

“Yeah, I think it’s supposed to reference Cupid’s bow. Namaari also received a strand of both the women’s hair two days after they were killed. These murders occurred on the first of March and April. Considering the fact that today is May 1st...,” Raya trailed off.

“We need to act now. I don’t like the fact that she’s been getting gifts or that the unsub knows where she lives. No need to bother collaborating with any local PD, this crosses state lines so we have full jurisdiction,” Tong began, explaining what he’s read in the files. “It’s safe to say that the unsub is targeting those who have had a romantic relationship with Namaari. They’ve also been going in order of who Namaari dated. She was with Chakan from eighth to ninth grade and then Cai from eleventh to twelfth grade. Mrs. Fang, was Namaari with anyone in the time period between Ms. Chakan and Ms. Lan?”

“Uh, kind of. After her break up with Anchali, I got word she did date a couple of other girls but they were just attempts at forming a relationship. Her next real girlfriend was Cai,” Virana answered immediately.

“Okay, looks like the unsub focuses on official relationships. Who did Namaari date after Ms. Lan?” Tong asked.

Raya could have sworn that Virana eyes landed on her before returning to focus on Tong. Must have been a trick of the light.

“From what I’m aware of, the only other girlfriend she had is her now fiancé, Jintara Niran,” Virana told him.

“But you’re not sure?” Tong pressed.

“No, I’m not,” the lawyer confirmed.

“First, please write down your daughter’s address. I take it her and her fiancé live together?” Tong asked. Virana nodded and hastily wrote it down. 

“Perfect. Now I need you to call your daughter and ask if she has had any other serious girlfriend between Ms. Lan and her fiancé and that she needs to be completely honest. If we’re right, she could very well be killed tonight,” Tong instructed. 

Virana turned rather pale at the last statement but nodded nonetheless. She walked out of the room and grabbed her phone, calling her daughter outside. Tong turned to the rest of the group with a serious look in his eyes.

“Okay, Sisu, you head to the computers and start sending police to stand guard at Ms. Fang’s and Ms. Niran’s house right now. If Mrs. Fang is right, the unsub is going for Niran next,” Tong began, but Sisu was practically out the door by the time he was finished with his sentence.

“Boun, I want you to just get to their address and kick start the process of asking them questions. Plus, I want one of our people to be with them as soon as possible,” Tong told him.

“On it!” Boun confirmed, launching himself out of his seat.

“Noi, stay with Virana and get whatever else you can out of her while simultaneously giving her some comfort. I’ll head out to the local PD where they live. It’s only two hours away but we should set up shop there anyways. Two hours can easily be the difference between life and death,” the agent told the only girls left.

“You got it boss man!” Noi nodded.

“And Raya, you know those case files I had you look at for review?” Raya nodded, causing Tong to continue. “I want you to get those files then head to the local PD with Boun. There’s a case in there similar to this one so we can get a better idea of how to handle this.”

“Understood, sir. I’ve got it covered,” Raya told him while rushing to get out of the room. 

Holy shit. Someone has been killing Namaari’s ex girlfriends. This was not on Raya’s 2023 bingo card.

As Raya glided down the stairs, she passed by both Noi and Virana conversing. Before she could leave the floor, Virana spoke to her.

“Ms. Heart!” the lawyer exclaimed. 

“What is it?” Raya asked anxiously.

“Please, just be careful,” Virana almost begged. Ah hell, that is so weird.

“Of course. I always am,” Raya told her confidently. With that, Raya turned around and dashed out of there.

The agent all but sprinted to her car. Once the car started, she began driving like a bat out of hell to get to her house. Because what on god’s green earth is happening right now?

When Raya got back home, she didn’t even bother locking her car before throwing her front door open.

Raya stood at the door for a moment, completely forgetting where she put the files. Then her brain started working again and she remembered that she shoved them underneath the dryer.

As Raya walked towards the kitchen, something made her pause. Is, is something burning?

Side tracked from her original mission, she found that the stove was turned on. That shouldn’t be possible. It wasn’t turned on this morning when she first got here and Raya’s breakfast was cereal straight from the bag. She did not touch the oven.

Tuk Tuk then made his entrance by running right by Raya and her fears quickly disappeared. Her big old dog probably accidentally knocked into the stove and turned it on. It has happened before. 

“Hey bud. Were you trying to make some dinner for yourself while I was gone? I should probably feed you anyways,” Raya smiled, giving him a light scratch on the ears. Before Raya could blink, she was pinned against the wall by someone wearing a mask.

It took a couple seconds before she realized that this masked man now had their hands wrapped around Raya’s throat, slowly squeezing the life right out of her. 

#raya and the last dragon #ratld #rayaari #namaari #raya x namaari #namaari x raya #raya and namaari #ratld namaari #raya disney #ratld raya #rayamaari #raymaari #raya of heart #disney raya #raya namaari #namaari of fang #raya incorrect quotes #ratld incorrect quotes #disney ratld

[facade]

vent long personal heavy ok

it’s really helpless and crushing how im always cornered back to the same sad answer of how i should have considered the future earlier. my legs are in so much pain, im crying from how much my body aches and im simply told, you shouldn’t have been in your room all day — despite the fact i wasn’t allowed to go outside, and there was seldom walking space in our awful house. i was always sick, and always dizzy. it is crazy how dangerous black mold can be and yet we had a complete infestation of that and more. i want to consider pursuing a career ive had since i was a child though, im so passionate about art and i still am which might be a blessing considering how much commissions are hurting me mentally and perhaps physically .. opening several, several batches a year, constantly cramming them.. i think i want to do college. but i didn’t take on the scholarship i had when i graduated! i didn’t take the aid that covered my first year.. truthfully i didn’t think id make it so far. im insecure, im suicidal, im fragile. the past decade, i could barely get through anything without crying. it was humiliating to exist as i was in middle and highschool due to the living situation i was in, with no money and feeling i had no true support or even solidarity with my own mother, who must have been under much more stress than i was, trying to provide for her child. but still didn’t sympathize with me at all. the situation was hard, but i should have worked harder .. honestly, i do feel selfish for not having taken advantage of my moms effort to keep me in school, but ahhhhhh, i think it was just too much. i didn’t want to live like this. i was ashamed and disgusted, i still feel discomfort associating myself with that life. i cling to childhood and youth and traditions i missed out on because i lacked so much of that routine as a kid. is it so wrong to cry and want to die that you never got to experience a proper, loving christmas like everyone in your schools did ? no toys, no cable, only a tiiiny tiny laptop (like a 2008 chromebook-like thing) to keep me busy.. i wasn’t allowed to go outside of my own house to play with the dog, nor was I allowed to have anyone come over. wasn’t allowed to visit other people’s houses… not like i remember of that much anyways, as i barely remember anything from childhood except mortifying things.. i recently saw a way to connect to my mother by opening up. i confessed to her a lot of things as i was a mute child and never shared anything, never felt comfortable to — about how it affected me, about how i feel like im in stasis. i told her about what happened between me and my father, what happened between me and my brother, and i felt empty when she looked away from me and didn’t answer. No closure or comfort, and simply said that i should have taken advantage of my opportunities when I had them. And i have sabotaged myself. nothing else can explain for my disability, my mental health, and my plummeting education.

It took me 6 years to get an ID. 5 years to get a bank account. I don’t know how to learn how to drive and I am scared but I have to. i cannot go anywhere without someone’s help, primarily hers.

it feels too unfair, and i am still grieving for every year that passes by, even the previous year, that i am still locked in a house. i have never experienced much that i can call positive memories until i went to be with my best friend and my boyfriend. but that just made the memories painful too; when I think about how I have to end the trip. Board the plane or get in the car, and cry about how I have to go back home and be with my mother. it is not normal, to dread going back there so intensely. i wish i had a different life very badly, honestly, but a comfort i have now is that i think i am now strong emotionally and legally that i can make my own plans, manage my own bank, decide who i can visit without the permission of my mother. but. that is not because of my strength, and it is actually because she is sick. and she now has cancer as of september. I feel like i have been held in my mothers arms forced still for an entire two decades and the only reason she’s let go is because she is, her health is not well. And she has prepared me this week, a conversation of where to find her records, her files, her will, her passwords. Everything, if she passes away soon. i want to sleep forever, because i don’t want to wake up to a day wondering if it will happen soon. I don’t want to be in this position. I am scared. I wish I was with people I loved who loved me. i am shaking and sad. I wish I was too drained to cry anymore because I do it too much, for years. I wish I wasn’t such a sad person. I wish I wasn’t so miserable, I wish I had more happier things to think about when people ask me how I am. I feel miserably

I was gifted breath of the wild a couple years ago, now i am finally playing it. it helps i think. i really enjoy it most for the animal interaction and cooking and exploration.

[embervoices]

Questions for Fic Writers

from @clumsyclifford

(Note: All my fics are accessible to AO3 members only, sorry!)

What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?) Probably CHEESE! or Initial Summoning for Dragon Age and Good Omens, respectively.

Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits? Unsurprisingly: Self-Insert (12), Humor (10), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence (10), Fluff (8), There's also: Modern Girl in Thedas (12) but that's because 11 of them are from one series. I'm bemused that "Silly" only has 4 entries. It really should probably apply to almost all of them. To be honest, I think I'm spotty at best at tagging.

What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics? Religious themes, especially polytheism and spirit work. Unapologetic self-insert. Silly humor.

What detail in your fic are you really proud of? I'll have to think about it. I'm often surprised what lands well despite my thinking it would be horrible… The two things that come immediately to mind I don't think I've shared yet. First is that I experimented with writing the same paragraph of Solas' thoughts, first in prose, then Iambic Pentameter, and to scan with Leonard Cohen's Halleluia. That was because people were conflating the ballad meter of Halleluia with "Iambic Pentameter" because they noticed the Iambic part. But I just thought it was really pretty. I haven't had any reason to share it, though. Maybe on Tumblr now I'm back, I dunno. Second is in a self-indulgent fic I was writing with my co-writer Cowoline. If we ever get around to posting any of it remains to be seen, but there's one scene where one character is reading to another character some terrible purple prose, translating out of Orlesian on the fly. To get that text, I took some of my own romance scene writing from an earlier story and shoved it through at least French, and then back to English via Google Translate. The results were indeed appropriately terrible.

What do you wish someone would ask you about your fics? Answer it now! Nothing comes to mind. I am not sure I'm reticent enough for this to be a big problem. LOL

What’s one fact about the universe of The Canticle of Dreams that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself? EmberQuizzy isn't actually human. Her soul/spirit is made of Vanic material, not human material. She only appears human because it's what she expected to look like. Thus it's quite possible her and Solas' children will indeed have pointed ears.

Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of? Mostly whenever it catches me by surprise that some arbitrary decision early on actually clicks perfectly info place later.

What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)? I have a whole series of images in my head for making a Good Omens comic out of Ghost by the Indigo Girls, but I don't have the artistic chops, nor the patience to do it myself, and it's too much to commission another artist to do. So it'll have to wait until/unless I can find someone who will do it as a collaboration rather than a commission, which seems… unlikely, and possibly unfair. Mind you, if I had the spare money lying around, there are several GO Fan artists I'd commission to do it in a heartbeat!

How do you find new fic to read? Mostly, by filtering AO3 searches. Occasionally one or another fan group I'm in will post a rec that gets my attention, or a friend will ask me to read their thing.

How do you decide what to write? It attacks me in my sleep!

#interview #fic writers #questions for fic writers #part 1 #YOUR TURN

[funneylizzie]

Hi there! First of all, I love your art -- all your rottmnt stuff is so lively and fun and a joy to behold. Secondly, I know you do commissions, and I was actually wondering if I could ask for a bit of advice? I'm looking to start doing my own commissions, but the process of starting is pretty daunting. I'm a competent artist, but I'd hardly call myself popular, and I have no idea how to advertise that kind of thing. Or how best to organize payments, or deadlines, etc. I don't expect you to have the perfect solutions/answers to these questions, but any tips for a beginner would be greatly appreciated! And, again, thanks for sharing all your lovely art <3

Hi there! So sorry I am soooooooo late to responding to this, but I’d love to help! (Even if I’m not the best at it lol) so I’ll go down the list!

1. I’m gonna jump right out there and say I actually was influenced into doing my first commission by someone who rlly liked my art back in 2017! They told me how to set up PayPal n all that stuff, wish I still had that drawing I made for them, it’s rlly neat thinking of how far I’ve come since then!

2. Getting yourself out there is definitely something you need to do, I’ve learned the best way to do that is have a semi-consistent posting schedule, use LOTS OF TAGS, interact with anybody you can, and get your name out there! Social media IS a lot more work than you’d expect, but have fun with it!! I wouldn’t want that to discourage you. As soon as you get a routine it gets real easy

3. For payments, I recommend sticking to one money transferring app. I use PayPal business’s invoicing system, and I’ve found it’s great! Only issue is it keeps your money until you’ve had ~15 transactions, just to show your business is legit. Something like that. You can use regular PayPal too, but I’ve found this one is easier to use for both me and customers, and you’re less likely to get scammed! (Also my tax lady loves PP it makes everything easy for her)

4. As for deadlines, I usually don’t have any, but that’s just how my system works! As soon as my customers send through payment, I let them know that I’ll tell them when I get started. Give yourself plenty of time though! Your customers won’t mind as long as you keep them updated on how you’re feeling and when you think you’re going to begin work.

They love to see updates on rough pieces, lineart/inking, and color!! Makes the wait time seem shorter, it’s content for them, and they can voice anything they need to when you’re working on their piece!

5. I really really really do strongly recommend accepting payment first, whether it be paid in full or half first then half later. Make sure you’re getting at least something for your time! (And it’s a great motivator)

6. That’s really all I have! It’s definitely a learning process, I perfected the commission system probably just at the beginning of last year, and I’ve been doing this for 5 years! You’ve got this though! I believe in you (:

#asks

[rosietrace]

Cosette De Sade

"Sorry, I didn't hear you. I was just distracted by the smell of misogyny and the wish of beating the patriarchy."

VERY important note: Cosette is an oc that belongs to my friend, who is unable to access Tumblr.

Full Name: Cosette Lilian Von Luftschloss De Sade

Japanese Name: コゼット フォン ルフトシュロスド デ サド

Romaji: Cozetto Von Rufutosyurosudo De Sado

Twisted from: Leilin Shan Candiome

V/A: Aya Endō(遠藤綾)

Age: 19

Birthday: April 19

Horoscope: Aries ♈/Taurus ♉

Species: Human

Height: 157 cm

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Ocean blue

♝•°•══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════•°•♝

Homeland: Shaftlands

Dormitory: Diasomnia

School year: 3rd year

Class: 3-B(seat no. 6)

Sexuality: Demisexual

Dominant hand: Right

{ Family:

Lord De Sade(Father)

Lady De Sade(Mother) }

Best class(es): Astrology and economic functions

Worst class(es): Algebra

Likes: Reading, spending time with friends, modeling Victoria's designs, commissioning designs from Victoria, money, shopping sprees, studying

Dislikes: Rumors, her adversaries, anyone tarnishing her family's reputation, no money, disturbing Yuuta during his gardening hours, running in heels, cheating

Hobbies: Shopping, modeling, practicing magic, studying, reading, hairstyling, doing makeup

Talent(s): Economic functions, politics, reading, fast learning, analytical prowess

Flaw(s): Somewhat spoiled(?), cunning, ambitious, manipulative, (secretly) easily annoyed

♝•°•══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════•°•♝

Personality

Generally charismatic and respectable, many find it surprising that Cosette is not only a prominent student in the academy but also one of the closest friends of Victoria Shard. Aka, Pomefiore's ice queen.

Cosette's the type to not comment on her friendships with everyone, given that she actually respects her privacy. And she silently hopes that everyone else can mind their fucking business and leave her alone.

But nope. And that kind of pisses her off. It's almost a miracle that she's still able to smile so proudly in front of the people who annoy her to the core.

Cosette is what one would call "easy to talk to", especially if you're incredibly close with her. Although she isn't the best with advice, she does her best to make sure everyone in her friend group feels included and consoled. Which led to her becoming incredibly popular.

As a child, her father regularly doted on her and spoiled her rotten. It came to the point where her mother had to stop him from spending everything on Cosette. But that isn't to say she didn't spoil her daughter as well.

Because she grew up doted on and spoiled rotten to the core, Cosette is unsurprisingly… A little spoiled. But she's mostly good at covering up that side of herself.

With her ambition and cunning, it was no surprise that she managed to befriend Victoria so easily. They're both brilliant, politically involved women who know what words they need to use to get what they want.

And that's exactly what made Cosette grow so attached to Victoria.

♝•°•══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════•°•♝

Unique magic: Blood string(血の糸)

A rather…. Unexpected unique magic, especially for someone such as Cosette

But that wasn't to say she hated it. She and Victoria agreed that it was…. Effective

To simplify the elaboration, Cosette can create a string of blood and control it however she pleased

What makes this ability a lot more unusual than it should be is that it's unclear if the string of blood of Cosette's blood or not, hell, even she doesn't know

Wrapping the string around someone allows her to drain the blood from their bodies, however, she's capable of giving them their blood back

But after using this ability she tends to get a little lightheaded and experiences a couple of cramps if she isn't too careful

♝•°•══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════•°•♝

Name meaning

Cosette: A name of French origin, meaning "little thing"

Von Luftschloss: "From Castle in the Air" in German.

De Sade: A French soldier and writer whose descriptions of sexual perversion gave rise to the term `sadism'

Trivia

Much like Kiara, Cosette refers to Victoria as "Vic"

Has known Victoria and Zen since she was 15

Her family and the Shards are on respectable speaking terms thanks to their contribution to their economic assistance

Shopping sprees are not uncommon when it comes to this girl

Loves doing Zen and Camilla's makeup, and even jokes that their faces were crafted by gods

Hairstyling is more of a thing she, Victoria, and Mercury do together

She mostly bonds with Kiara and Sarah by reading each other's favorite novels together

Kind of ships Malleus with Victoria but won't openly admit it

Challenged Zen on who could buy Victoria and Yuuta the most expensive gifts, and the competition is still continuing

Has no idea why her parents chose "Von Luftschloss" as part of her name

Commissions outfits from Victoria regularly, and even accompanies Freyah and Frisk whenever they commission their outfits from her as well which goes to show how close they actually are with Victoria

Also acknowledges how snatched Mercury's waist is alongside Sarah

Understands why Camilla's singing sucks ass, but thinks Aurelie is worse

Literally the main reason why a crown prince and his fiancé broke off their engagement, but her involvement in that is unclear

Thinks Zen's music is soothing when it isn't just him making a meme of himself

The beret she wears all the time was one Victoria made for her, but the design was one she made herself

Prefers to wear her beret over her dorm uniform's hat, which would make her get scolded by Sebek for 'violating dresscode'

Is absolutely done with Crowley's shit and feels pity for Yuuta because he has to put up with that man's shit the most

Doesn't really care about the NRC and RSA rivalry but plays along for shits and giggles

She met Yuuta when she accidentally encountered him during his gardening hours.... And it didn't end well-

She really doesn't care about the swordsman solstice, but if it makes Victoria happy, she'll gladly volunteer to sponsor the event(even though sponsorships aren't necessary for the event)

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #oc profile #nrc oc #twst nrc #diasomnia oc #twst diasomnia #diasomnia #nrc ocs #night raven college oc #night raven college #cosette de sade #victoria shard #zenith devi

[kimageddon]

Sins of the Father - 3:1

-|- Page header by space-b33 -|- Masterlist -|-Prince of Dathomir Masterlist -|- Sins of the Father Masterlist -|- Art Masterlist -|- Check out my : Ko-fi / AO3-|-Prompt Challenges-|- Art Attack Weekly Challenge -|- Commissions Open -|- Join my tag list -|-

Maul x Nightsister OC (Zaiya Valessa) - Modern/Crime AU - Sins of the Father Masterlist

Word Count: Approx 1400 Contains/Warnings: Brief making out. Chapter Summary: Padme Amidala readies for the election, and has a visit from someone close to her. Notes: HAPPY HOLIDOOS & MERRY CRIMBUS! (more notes at the end)

Chapter 3 - Falling to Temptations

He walks beside you like shadow

Despite the path you will follow

You deny what lives inside

This feeling that you wish to hide

Your buried heart lies  deep

To not allow this love to seep

And yet to look into his eyes

You see in them your own demise

The tears are falling to the ground

This pain within, forever bound

You reach to grasp the dying light

You cannot fall or lose fight

You yearn for all you’ve given up

Too late you see what you have done

Undeserving of this love

Perhaps what’s there will be enough

══════════════════

Behind the Curtain

“I think the plum suit, ma’am,” the young woman said, holding up the two different suits, one a dusty purple and the other a sleek black. “Plum gives a warm trusting feel,” 

Padme Amidala looked over the two choices, reaching out to caress the sleeve of the purple one. A small smile crossed her lips after a moment and she nodded. 

“Thank you Tekla, I think you’re right,” she said as she met her aide’s eyes. The younger woman beamed, glad to know her opinion was accepted. Tekla took the purple suit and headed to the closet on the far side of the room where she hung it on the inside of the door for Padme to change into later. 

The big debate was not far off, and if she were honest, she was looking forward to it. She’d not seen Mayor Palpatine for a very long time, and this debate would be the first time she would face him during this campaign. Once she had admired him, but she had become quite disillusioned in recent years with the lack of progress in the city. Not just financially but in infrastructure, health care and unemployment. All the money seemed to go into security and the Police, yet the figures Padme was hearing indicated that crime was actually rising. There were robberies, gangs and corruption, she had seen too many people in pain and left destitute, she had stepped up to the podium for them. For justice. 

She knew there was only so much she could do but… she had to try. The system was too fraught with corruption and Palpatine seemed blind to it… or worse, was a part of it. She’d heard the rumours but they were few and hardly proven. She could hardly believe they were anything other than vast exaggerations. 

The young candidate returned her attention to her papers, looking over some of the campaign notes from her manager. She took a seat at her desk, picked  up a red pen and added a few items of her own. Tekla returned to her sorting of the letters that had come in for Padme, letters of thanks or endorsement, even pleas for help, it was so important for the young politician.

They had so much to prepare for before the election. Filming a new campaign ad, a few small appearances, an interview and then of course the debate. There was so much she needed to do, the last thing she could afford right now was any form of distraction.

Knock Knock!

“Padme?” 

Padme looked up, her brown eyes widening. She knew that voice! Her face lit up like a beacon and she pushed herself to her feet and hurried over to the door, throwing it open at once.

“Anakin!” she beamed, managing to stop herself from throwing her arms around him. There he stood, broad shouldered, sandy brown hair swept back off his face, blue eyes gleaming and that boyish grin she loved so much ever-present on his face. 

She stepped back and let him in, his sharp eyes spotting Tekla immediately.

“Miss Sparum,” he nodded in greeting, charming as ever. Tekla gigged and grinned. 

“Mister Skywalker,” she replied sweetly. She flashed Padme a look as he passed her, and fanned herself slightly. Padme just chuckled and Tekla knew what to do. 

“I’ll just… let you have a moment, shall I?” she said with a knowing wink to her boss. Padme was lucky Tekla was so loyal, it wasn’t always the best move to be involved with the opposing candidate’s adoptive son. 

Not that Anakin was officially adopted of course, but it was close enough. It made their love for each other and their relationship difficult to navigate. They’d managed to avoid any publicity so far, but Anakin was becoming bolder and caring less about who saw him. Padme too was finding it harder to care, he might be a little younger than she was, but she was head over heels for the athlete. 

He took a seat on the couch she had for visitors and petted his thigh, a mischievous grin on his lips. 

“Come here,” he bade and Padme couldn’t help but do so. She strode over to him and before she had even had a chance to sit properly, Anakin reached out and grasped her hips, pulling her into his lap with that cheeky but charming grin that made her heart flutter. She settled on his lap with a bright smile of her own, looking down at him with such adoration. 

“I don’t like being away from you for so long,” Anakin hummed as he leaned closer, kissing the smooth column of her neck, his broad hands sliding up her back. 

“You know I have to work,” she chuckled, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She sank into his kiss as she cupped his face. It had been quite a while since they’d been together, she could tell he had missed her, especially the way his hands dropped to her thighs. Padme grinned into his kiss, she had missed him too. 

“I know, but I miss you, and there’s no one else I’d rather be with.” He kissed her neck again and nibbled her ear. “We should take some time away… take a trip.” 

“I can’t while we’re so close to the election,” she giggled. “The opposition isn’t making it easy,” she groaned and tilted her head, giving him more access as heat bloomed in her belly. 

“Well, you know he’s doing what’s best for the city,” he murmured. Padme frowned. 

“He’s doing what’s best? He’s just trying to win…” she shook her head,  she didn’t want to talk about work, she wanted to steal a moment with her boyfriend. 

“Mayor Palpatine has been in charge for a long time, he just wants to make sure the job is done right,” Anakin shrugged. She pulled back, that warmth she felt began to fizzle out. 

“So you think I couldn’t do a good job?” she accused.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied defensively.

“The corruption and issues of the city have been ignored for too long--”

“He can’t do everything, Padme.” 

“He needs to do something!” she insisted, leaning back further to look at him with a deep frown. “If he put half as much energy into helping fix the issues that he does in slandering my campaign, then most of the issues would be solved!” 

“Now that’s not fair,” the young man said, sitting up a little straighter. The action jolted Padme and she stood up to face him. 

“What’s not fair are the claims he makes in the name of his campaign! His claims that I am too young or throwing my mistakes in my face and blowing them out of proportion!” She was getting a whole different kind of heated now. Anakin stood, now towering over her, his hands out.

“Padme-- he took me in when I had no one,” he began, that same story he always told when he wanted to excuse the old man for anything reprehensible that he’d done. 

“Look, I’m grateful for that, Anakin, I am. You deserve good things in your life, but that doesn’t excuse the neglect or the smear campaign when I am just trying to do my best for this city!” she was exasperated, it was always the same argument. She let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what? Perhaps you should go, I have a lot of work to catch up on anyway and I need to finish this speech.” She turned away and headed to her desk.

“Padme!” he protested, sounding shocked. 

“I have to work, Anakin,” she replied bitterly. “Perhaps you’ll feel better if you talk to your so-called father.” She regretted the words as soon as she’d said them, but she didn’t look back at him. 

“Maybe I will,” he spat back and she heard his heavy steps, flinching at the slam of the door. She shouldn’t have said that, but she was so fed up with the way her boyfriend always seemed to take the side of his ‘father’ over her. 

She sat back at her desk and let out a deep breath. She could apologise later. For now, she had an election to win.

Notes: It's Christmas Day here in Aus, so here is my gift! Another Chapter of Sins! …as opposed to skipping a week 😂

I hope you all have a wonderful wonderful day. For all those who struggle at this time of year, I hope you are alright and safe and I am sending all my affections to you. Once again thank you for reading, you have my gratitude.

As always if you have a comment or feedback about this chapter, I would love to hear it! I always love to read your comments and they keep me going! I hope you all are well and I shall see you New Years Day/Eve with an APOD chapter!

----

The List of Tags: (If your name is crossed out then check your settings! Tumblr is not letting me tag you!) @two-black-leviathans @fallenrepublick @eyecandyeoz @ashotofspotchka @littlepossss @octupus-on-the-moon @justalittletomato @mach-opress @mustluvecho @nahoney22 @leotatombs @eloquentmoon @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @maulslittlemeowmeow @misogirl828 @alwayssnivellus @stardustbee @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @bacarasbabe @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @rain-on-kamino

Wanna be notified when I post my next work? Join my tag list

#sins of the father #sinsational #darth maul x oc #lord maul #maul x oc #darth maul #maul #darth maul fic #maul fic #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #crime au #gangster au #modern au

[aristoteliancomplacency]

I didn't know you had done live-in caregiving, holy shit! and yeah, you guys are paid way too little and have way too few protections. Sorry you have trauma from that experience, that's horrible <3

Thanks. :) It was just over a decade ago now, so it’s got a lot easier to forget about it. It’s silly but there are still a couple of foods that I’m like ‘nope. Not making that ever again, nu-uh’.

In retrospect I wish I’d reported them to the care quality commission, but I didn’t even know it existed until a couple of years later when there was a nationwide scandal because so many care facilities and services were found to be profoundly failing their clients through abuse and neglect.

But even if someone sees caring as a vocational job they really love… they’re not gonna stick around for that wage. There’s no way I could have made rent or paid for food with it. It only made enough to pay for my tuition because I moved back in with my parents for the year.

They didn’t care about whether their staff made enough money to survive and certainly didn’t care whether they had enough training to do the jobs we were being given.