#but I’ve been thinking of this au for a long time

[mattybsgroupie]

fitting | chris sturniolo

— CONTENTS: handjob (m receiving); mommy kink; milf!reader; virgin!chris; sub!chris

— NOTES: hi my loves! sorry i’ve been a little m.i.a, some stuff happening at home and not really in my best mood BUT i’m here! you give me strenght to keep going and doing what i love. did you guys miss him as much as i did :( chris my beloved!!! inspired by this blurb, thought i’d show how shy chris was before their first time! — btw this fic is part of the milf!au but you can it on its own! — not proofread, i apologize for any mistakes. enjoy ♡

walking around the mall after a busy morning at work, you spotted a familiar figure across the alley. it was quite impossible not to recognize chris — his long hair falling over his big eyes, wearing his shabby jeans and his old converse as he typed frantically on his phone, oblivious to his surroundings.

you approached him slowly, standing in front of chris and expecting that he’d notice you soon. when he raised his head, a smile spread from ear to ear, his blue orbs sparkling. it had been over two weeks since you last saw each other due to stacy staying at her father's place, therefore, chris had no excuses to visit you.

“chris? what are you doing here?” you asked in your usual sweet tone. he scratched the back of his head, as if he was a bit embarrassed about the situation he found himself in. “huh... actually, i was supposed to meet stacy” chris admitted, tucking his cell phone back into his pocket and standing up beside you.

“but she won’t make it” he said. a puzzled frown appeared on your face. it’s true that you couldn’t always keep track of your daughter’s schedule when she wasn't at home, but she wasn’t the type to miss dates or hangouts. 

“cheer practice” he explained. you nodded, realizing that the game season was about to start. it felt so wonderful to see chris again. “well, would you like a ride home? i just have to look for something real quick and then i’m all done”

“sure, c-can i keep you company?” he asked, eager for a positive answer. “absolutely, sweetheart”

you led the way to the store you were going to visit. a lingerie shop. chris gulped when he saw the bright sign, the pink lights contrasting with the black interior and then sighed. he knew you missed him just as much.

“that’s not fair, mama” he mumbled after a while. chris had been following you like a puppy, interlocking his index with two of your fingers, as if he could lose his way at any second. 

“making me so needy” he complained again. you stopped by a red, lace lingerie set and happily brought it to your chest, turning to chris. “what do you think of this one, chris? pretty, right?”

“mhm— really pretty” chris shook his head as he sunk his teeth on his bottom lip. he looked away from you and the way the bra rested perfectly against your chest. “what’s up, baby? are you having a little trouble down there?”

“mama… don’t do this to me” chris whispered. his hands started to get sweaty and he could feel the blood rushing to his cock. he was about to get hard in public just because he thought of you in lingerie, which was ridiculous, since he had seem you naked previosusly.

“i’m not doing anything, sweetie. i’m shopping and you’re keeping me company, isn’t that right? is it my fault that you can’t hold yourself back and got all worked up just because i got some lingerie?” your warm tone sent a shiver down his spine, his chest immediatly inflating with air. “‘m s-sorry i just keep thinking… of you wearing it” chris tried to explain himself as you chuckled, enjoying his embarassement.

“yeah? you wanna see me wearing a nice set for you? which one do you like better?” you asked, handing him three pairs of bras and panties in different colors.

“the red one” chris spoke, still not daring to look at you in the ways. you walked in slow, seductive steps towards him, the sound of your heels taking over the empty store.

“c’mere,  i’ll try it on for you” you continued, undoing the first button of your silk shirt. chris got a peek of your bra, it was the leopard print that drove him insane and made him kiss you for the first time, months ago. “but first we gotta fix this, hm?” you cooed, placing your palm against his boner and applying some pressure to it.

once again, you led the way towards the fitting rooms. chris followed you obediently, holding a bunch of hangers. you gaze scanned the store and with a naughty grin, you opened one of the curtains and quickly went inside, pulling chris by his wrist.

he didn’t even had time to hang your underwear. you pushed him against the mirror, smashing your lips together in a desperate, hungry kiss. a loud groan left his throat as you moved to his neck, gently sucking on his skin. “mommy i missed you so much” chris rolled his eyes, his hands going to your hair.

“i missed you too, my good little boy” you whispered, palming his cock over his jeans. chris squirmed against you, a moan slipping from his lips. you opened a satisfied smile as you pulled away, sitting on the stool next to the mirror.

chris whined in protest, already missing how you hand and your lips felt on him. “got all hard for mama? you poor little thing” he pouted, nodding “c’mon, touch yourself for me” you instructed him.

his eyes widened in surprise — you had never asked him that. he didn’t know how to do jerk himself properly. chris was a virgin and the first time he was actually able to reach an orgasm was with your help. how was he supposed to do it on his own, and in public?

“mhm, unless you wanna go out with that pathetic boner” you teased, crossing your legs. the red heel started to slip from your foot as you finished unbuttoning your shirt, fully displaying your bra. chris whined again, silently pleading.

“mama… i n-need your help” chris spoke under his breath. “can’t cum without you”

“you’ll have to learn how to take care of yourself, chris” you said, pulling chris by his belt. you helped him to undress, freeing his shaft, almost slapping against his own tummy. you wrapped your knuckles around his length, stroking it in slow motions. “do you expect mama to be there every time you get hard? what are you gonna do when i’m not around, hm?”

“nhng— can’t— can’t be without mama” chris whimpered, more to himself than to you. he twitched inside your fist, placing both hands on the mirror to hold his weight, knowing his knees would ultimately give up.

you moved your thumb to his tip, pre-cum leaking from his slit as you circled it. his hips bucked forward as he leaned his head down, trying to hold himself. chris didn’t want to cum too soon, it was humiliating. he wanted to last long for you, he wanted to get used to the feeling your fingers around him, to the sound of your voice whispering praises and calling him a good boy, but no matter how hard chris tried, he pathetically failed.

“cum! mama, cum!” chris whimpered. you tightened your grip around his cock, pumping it faster. “please!”

“cum for me baby” you allowed him. you knew chris would need a long time to get used to your touch. in fact, it was adorable that he couldn’t even last five minutes.

chris threw his head back, moaning as he came on your hand, thick spurt messing your fingers and his jacket. you didn’t move your hand, continuing to gently stroke his wet, sticky cock.

that’s until your phone rang. you reached for your bag, quickly picking it up and seeing the name on the screen. “i think stacy is back home” you told chris, whose dick immediately became soft at the mention of your daughter’s name. “would you like to join us for dinner?”

— TAGLIST ♡⊹𑄽୧ @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknott @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @ivammbb @shadowthesim @slutformatthewsturniolo @stefansring @teeheeomg @dystfopia @riasturns @faiyaz555 @sturnslutz @cvnntagious @alesturniolos @emely9274

chris masterlist | milf au masterlist

[nonphoto-blue]

Lucky Lucky ꕤ Cho Hyun-ju x Reader [1/?]

Read on AO3 Masterlist Summary: After your previous manager runs away to America with the funds meant to kickstart your debut, your band 4tune is left to pick up the pieces in an impending scandal. The new manager, Cho Hyun-ju, says she’ll do everything to ensure your debut is successful, but it’s a long road until she gains your trust, especially when her own secrets come to light. Or, the kpop/krock/band AU no one asked for.

Warnings: Slowwwww burn. Kind of an inherent power imbalance but reader isn't taking bs from anyone, and reader is 20+. Reader is AFAB and uses she/her. She's implied to be Korean/from South Korea but no physical description is used.

A/N: So I've had the horrible idea of a kpop au for Squid Game since the first season came out. Originally I'd thought of a Sangwoo x Reader fic but it felt in bad taste at the time. Season 2 came out and I can't stop thinking about Hyun-ju so uh. You're getting this.

Five years. You’ve been in trainee hell for five years, learning the ins and outs of PR, songwriting, language, appearances, how to fucking smile at a camera when all you wanted to do was sing and play guitar and look out at a crowd with more people than you can count on your hands. All for your dreams to be stolen away, packed up in bags and expedite-shipped to the United States. 

If you could go back in time to tell your past self to save herself the trouble and give up music altogether, you’d consider it. Or at least tell her to flip off the agency scout the second he approaches. Sure, you’d still be busking on the street, but you’d be spared this bullshit and continue life with hope still. You don’t want to be an idol. You want to be– you are a musician, and the evidence was going to be your debut.

Your band, 4tune, is slated to record your debut in a month, and begin promotions just a couple months from now, but thanks to your no-good-money-stealing-piece-of-shit ex-manager, the money set aside for appearances and advertising is no longer in the company’s bank account. With grim faces, you, your bandmates, and a few members of the company higher ups gather around a table in an emergency meeting.

“It’s ridiculous,” Se-mi crosses her arms across her chest, huffing her bangs out of her eyes. “What a coward.” She stands, crossing to a floor-length window and staring at the skyline of Mapo-gu, disbelief written on her face. 

Your mouth forms a thin line. “Who just… takes the money and runs? How was he allowed to take all of it anyway?”

“That’s all we know,” the CEO, Hwang In-ho, murmurs. He laces his fingers together and scans the rest of the band’s faces as you take in the not-quite-death-sentence he delivered your group. “We’ve got the police in South Korea and the United States investigating, but they haven’t found him yet.”

“So what does this mean for 4tune? I mean, are we… still going to debut?” Young-mi asks. 

“We don’t have a manager, we don’t have money, we don’t have a debut.” Jun-hee puts a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes in exasperation. 

“Actually,” In-ho raises a finger. “We do have a new manager for you. She couldn’t make this meeting, but she’s coming up from Busan after lunch. You’ll meet her tonight or tomorrow.” He leans forward in his seat, and rests both arms on the table in front of him. “Rest assured, you will debut.”

You can’t help but feel your lips curl into a sneer. A new manager? Who’s to say this one won’t make off with whatever scraps of money are left? You hear Se-mi scoff from the window, her thoughts echoing your own. Jun-hee looks hesitant, but Young-mi looks up at In-ho with hope.

“What’s her name? What’s she like?”

“Cho Hyun-ju. She’s an old acquaintance.” Looking over the group’s faces, In-ho stands, and begins to make his way to the meeting room door. “I’ve known her for a long time. She’s a good person.” Hardly glowing praise, but you suppose anyone would be better than the ex-manager. The other company members follow In-ho out of the room, meeting adjourned, leaving just your group members with their thoughts.

Your gaze lingers on the frosted glass door they left from. “Great. A manager, but no money. She can drive us around and shit, but we have nowhere to go. What’s the point?” Your words are bitter, spat in sorrowful resignation. 

Young-mi, ever the optimist, takes your hand in her’s. “Let’s give her a chance. In-ho sajangnim vouched for her, I say we see how she clicks with us before giving up on her.” She smiles meekly at the other members. None of you share her optimism, but with a shared side eye, the rest of you begrudgingly hear Young-mi out and agree.

“Fine,” you offer. “But if she does anything remotely shady I’m clawing my way out of this contract.” ꕤ

Despite the sudden wrench in 4tune’s future plans, you all have a schedule to uphold, so you go through the motions as if nothing was wrong. After a short break for lunch, language classes, pose training, you finally make it to the only part of training that doesn’t feel like a chore: rehearsal as a whole band. 

The rehearsal space is intimate; a small room with warm wood-panel flooring and a three-person couch in the corner. Se-mi’s drum kit is already set up on the drum rug, as is Young-mi’s keyboard and three amps, one for Young-mi’s bass, one for Jun-hee’s guitar, and one for yours, as well as a vocal mic on a long arm. Stepping into the space brings an energy you thought would be lost following this morning’s bad news, and you place your guitar’s hard case down with a determined vigor.

You unlatch the case, and pull out your guitar, a Fender Lite Ash Telecaster. The strap rests perfectly on your shoulder, the neck fitting perfectly in your left hand, a guitar pick in your right. The quarter-inch cable plugs into your guitar with a satisfying click and the amp hums to life when you switch it on. You set upon tuning your guitar, but it doesn’t take much adjustment for any member of the band, and soon your group is playing the first notes of what will be your title track for your debut.

It’s an upbeat song, and the lyrics are inherently hopeful and optimistic. You feel the stress pouring out of you as you hear how well the band plays together. From the wailing of Jun-hee’s guitar, to the machine-like precision of Se-mi’s drumming, to the effortless jumping from keys to bass by Young-mi, pride fills your heart knowing that you’re collaborating, and creating something beautiful in spite of everything going wrong.

You play rhythm guitar and sing. Closing your eyes, you pour your heart and soul into the high-energy chorus, the softer verses, and everything in between. As the outro plays out and you all play your final notes, a soft applause that crescendos into a quick flurry of claps breaks through your reverie. 

You hadn’t noticed when she came in, but at the door stands an unfamiliar woman. She’s tall, and seems a bit younger than In-ho. Her hair is cut at her shoulders with blunt bangs reaching her eyebrows. She’s dressed well, and she’s not standing timidly per-se, but there’s an awkwardness to how she holds herself, like she’s unsure if she’s allowed in this space.

“I’m sorry,” she smiles at the band. “I was told you were in this practice room and I heard you playing. You all sound amazing.”

Young-mi smiles back. “You must be the new manager! It’s nice to meet you! I’m-”

“Young-mi, right?” Young-mi nods. The woman turns to the drumset, “You’re Se-mi,” to the lead guitarist, “and Jun-hee,” and then she turns to you, and says your name so tenderly, so kindly, every fiber of your being is shouting at you to give her a chance. “And yes, I’m Cho Hyun-ju, your new manager.” ꕤ

Rehearsal stagnates after Hyun-ju’s arrival as the band seems more interested in the new arrival than playing, but you keep your guitar plugged in and guitar strap on. Young-mi puts down her bass and steps away from her keyboard to approach Hyun-ju immediately, Jun-hee following soon after. You pluck out a few notes here and there, trying to at least try to get through your part of the next song, but after Se-mi stands up from her drumset, you give up trying to continue rehearsal.

Hyun-ju seated herself on the couch in the corner. Jun-hee and Se-mi stand in front of her, and Young-mi sits beside her. “I’m excited to work with you all,” Hyun-ju half-bows in her seat. “You sounded amazing playing just now, your debut will be a hit, I can just feel it.”

“We’re happy to have you here too. I’m sure you’ve heard but our last manager flaked out on us.” Se-mi explains. Hyun-ju hums a condolence, eyes casting down to the ground. “We’re almost ready to record our album, so I’m sure you’ll have a lot to do coming up.”

You clear your throat, walking over to the group. “What experience do you have managing?” You don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does. It’s supposed to be a light conversation about her work history, not an interrogation into her credentials. Hyun-ju’s face falters at the stern tone, and you kick yourself internally.

“Managing specifically, I've done most of the tasks individually before. That is, things like schedule management and driving and the like. I do have experience in the music and idol industry outside of management.”

You try to school your expression, you really do, and you pull your lips into a not-quite-smile that ends up looking more like a grimace. “Well then,” you push out, “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLIII)

Chapter 43: ‘The whole world depends on your pure eyes and all my blood flows into their gaze’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Some cuteness, some cuteness!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4472

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The curve of your eyes winds around my heart, A round of gentleness and dance, Halo of time, night cradle and safe, And if I no longer know all that I’ve lived It’s that your eyes haven’t always seen me.

Leaves of day and foam of dew, Reeds of the wind, scented smiles, Wings shading the world of light, Boats brimming with sky and sea, Hunters of noise and sources of colour,

Scents bloomed from a brood of dawns That still rests on a bed of stars, As the day depends on innocence The whole world depends on your pure eyes And all my blood flows into their gaze.

Paul Eluard, Capitale de la douleur, 1929

Summer. Emerald waves tainted the sea with white foam. Warmth. Rest. Vacations. Rain…

… it was Galway, after all, rain was never far away.

Andrew was getting frustrated. He was so excited to go on this vacation with you, you had spent so much time planning, and talking about it, and awaiting this trip…

… and now it was raining. It was cold. You were lost. In the middle of fucking nowhere. Stuck behind some bloody sheep…

Only in Ireland, really… It was fucking August, for God’s sake…

He heard you letting out a long exhale, feeling your frustration creeping through every corner of the car, your negative energy matching his.

He knew you would end up fighting. It didn’t happen often, but every couple fought from time to time. It had never been important, never been anything you couldn’t get passed in a matter of minutes. Your fights had always grown out of frustration over situations, like this one iteration of everything going wrong…

On the back seat, Elwood was growing restless. Andrew could hear its heavy breaths, the noise of his fur moving against the fabric of the seats. Even him was getting annoyed now.

“You should have turned left.”

There it was. Andrew knew you had longed to voice that sharp remark. To be fair, you were right, he was the one who had insisted to turn right at a previous intersection, hence getting the three of you lost.

He was not in the mood to be a reasonable adult and recognising his wrongs though.

“Next time, you’ll drive, so you can take all the bad decisions, and I can do the blaming. You had the map…”

“We have a fucking GPS…”

“Which is not currently working in this godforsaken land…”

“And I told you to turn left, and you didn’t listen!”

“Again, just take the fucking wheel then!”

You exchanged a glare, your eyes sparkling with thunder, before you huffed and looked at the time on your phone.

“We won’t catch the ferry. We should turn back.”

“We can still catch it.”

“It’s leaving in less than half an hour…”

“We can still catch it.”

“Andrew! We have no fucking clue where we are! We’re stuck behind those bloody sheep! We will not make it to the ferry, so let’s just… go back to the house.”

“You’re getting defeated…”

“No, I’m realistic. We’ll never get there on time, and especially not with these bloody sheep!”

“And what am I supposed to do about it?!”

You stared at each other for a moment. And then you did something Andrew had not predicted.

You unfastened your seat belt, opened the car door, and left.

You climbed out of the car, forcefully slammed the door shut. And you started walking across the road, walking ahead without so much as a glance in his direction. You had barely managed a few steps that you were already soaked.

As he stared at you walking under the rain, walking away from the car, walking away from him, all traces of anger left Andrew’s body. Instead, an old fear came back, raging, blurring his world for a second.

You were leaving…

In the span of a handful of seconds, mere seconds, his brain raced to the worst scenario possible. His thoughts stopped being logical and were filled with his worst fear instead.

You were sick of him. You regretted moving in with him. You wanted your ex back all over again. You would have been happier with Frank than with him. You were leaving, dumping his arse, it was over…

God… how could he survive that? You were… you were… he couldn’t…

But then you did turn around.

“ANDREW! HELP ME OUT FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

He frowned, unable to move.

“ANDY! COME HELP ME OUT!”

That was when he finally realised what you were doing. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t walking out of his life. You weren’t breaking up with him, you were…

He saw you moving your arms in the air, calling through the heavy rain towards the scattered sheep, and he finally understood that you were trying to gather them all on the side of the road, towards an open field.

He tried to regulate both his breathing and his heartbeat while he climbed out of the car, securing his coat around his frame to protect himself from the cold rain.

He was panicking over nothing. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t leaving. It was fine… he was fine… all fine…

He longed to hurry to you, but his body couldn’t. It was a strange mixture of tiredness, frustration, remnants of anger, and fear. Mostly fear.

He had to stop overthinking everything. You weren’t like that. You loved him, and he knew that, deep down… it was just difficult for him to believe he was that lucky sometimes. He couldn’t help it…

You turned to him as he approached.

“We need to get them out of the way,” you said, your voice still shaking with anger.

You were visibly surprised when he wrapped his arms around you, held you in a fragile embrace. He felt you instantly relaxing, your body growing numb into his arms as you reached up to hold him as well.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you mumbled under your breath, although you were still frustrated.

“I’m sorry too.”

“We should go back.”

“I’m sorry. You were excited about this trip.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“It is though.”

“It’s okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

You didn’t hesitate a second to say it back, to pick up on one of his pet names again. And he ought to stop overthinking everything, but he couldn’t…

“Let’s go back to the car. You’re soaked, love. You’ll catch your death. Come on,” he prompted you towards the car, and you followed him.

Andrew made a U-turn, drove back to the small cottage-like house you were renting during your two weeks in Galway. The drive back was quiet, but the silence was comfortable and warm again. All traces of frustration seemed to have disappeared from your features by the time you reached the cottage. It had stopped raining too, so you didn’t get even more drenched as you walked from the car to the front door.

You heaved a relieved sigh as you stepped inside the warm house, you wiggled happily as you took off your coat.

“We can try to get to the ferry again tomorrow,” Andrew started, his tone cautious.

You surprised him with a shrug.

“We could. We’ll see.”

“I thought you wanted to…”

“Andy… it’s alright. I don’t care. Don’t overthink this. It’s just an afternoon, it was just an activity. We can stay here today, relax, enjoy each other’s company. I don’t mind if we don’t go see the Arans. I don’t mind at all. I promise.”

Andrew forced his shoulders to relax.

“We can still go later this week.”

You nodded, a playful glimmer shining in your eyes.

“Although, next time, we’ll turn left,” you quipped, teasing him while gently pinching his side.

He rolled his eyes, but a smile was back on his lips. If you were joking around, it meant that you weren’t mad. Good… that was good…

“You should take a shower, love. You’re freezing,” Andrew spoke in a quiet, warm voice, the one he knew always soothed you. He let his knuckles brush the sharper edge of your cheekbone, hated the coldness of your skin, longed for you to be warm and content again.

You nodded, taking off your jumper and wet jeans as you made your way to the bathroom.

“Actually, I think I’ll take a bath. We can take our time today, relax.”

You turned around, tilted your head a little in a tempting way as you spoke again. Andrew was having a hard time looking at your eyes instead of the length of your naked legs…

“Want to join me?” you smiled.

He gave you a suggestive look.

“In the bath? Or in bed?”

You bit down on your lower lip, and Andrew was gone for good. God, you had him wrapped around your finger… were you aware of the extent of his need for you?

“Hmm… bed first, then a bath? After all, we did fight… Some make-up sex is in order, no?”

He hummed, nodding his head as he walked closer to you. This time he didn’t refrain his urge to let his gaze travel down your legs, marvelling at their perfect curves, his fingers tingling already at the thought of touching them, feeling the softness of your skin, your warmth spread through his palms…

When he stopped, right before you, and looked up at your eyes again, there was something inviting in your gaze. He knew this look very well by now. It was the one that granted silent permission, the one that said I want you too, you can touch me…

His heart swelled at the thought that you were granting him the right to be this close to you now. That you were allowing him, even inviting him, to touch you. To kiss you. To worship your body… and he would. For the coming hour, he planned to do nothing but worship you, in the hopes that you would read in his adoration how much he loved you. How much he cared. How much he needed you.

You were staring right into his eyes as your hands slowly rose to his chest, as you peeled his cardigan off his body. There was so much tension in the air then, electric, as heavy as your stammering breaths, while you slowly unfastened the buttons of his white shirt. One button at a time. At an excruciatingly slow pace…

He let you do it though, do as you pleased with him. He loved it, the way you were setting a pace now. The way you were taking control. There was a quiet tenderness in each of your touches that told him he was safe with you, that you would never do him harm, that he could lay his heart, his body, his life into your hands, and despite that power over him, you wouldn’t destroy him.

He needed to stop overthinking everything…

He helped you slide his shirt off his shoulders, let you rest your palms on his undershirt, one hand on of each of his breasts.

“I love you.”

He grinned at the tender confession.

“I love you too.”

When you reached up to kiss him, it felt like breathing after a lifetime without air, like relief, like being alive…

At last… at fucking last…

This ought to be heaven.

After your pleasurable reconciliation, you opted to take a bath together. An hour spent in pleasure was incredible, but also exhausting, and both of you longed for rest now. Sharing a bath offered the warmth and quiet perfect for your tired bodies, and the intimacy you both craved after sex.

Andrew smiled at the memory.

Incredible sex, actually…

You heaved a content sigh as you readjusted your head against his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. His brain was fuzzy with a happy static, the kind he had never experienced before. A strange sense of peace, contentment, happiness… but that felt better than all of that combined. He couldn’t explain it. He felt it only with you, that was for sure…

“Your skin is so soft,” he mused, trailing his fingers across your waist and hip, speaking without thinking.

It felt so soothing to have you in his arms like this. There was something grounding, reassuring, and delightfully vulnerable in lying here with you, naked, sharing a bath and cuddling. You seemed to have a special power, one that made his busy brain grow quiet.

You chuckled at his words, kissed his chest as a reward.

“Yours is soft too,” you nodded, caressing his chest as if to stress your words.

Andrew shifted his legs, unfolding them to prop his feet on the edge of the bathtub, making the water and its bubbles shift with his movements. You had added some scented salts, and he liked it. It was soothing. It felt so nice.

Loving you was so good…

You giggled, making him look at you again.

“God… even this gigantic bathtub is too small for you…”

He laughed then, bright and happy with your teasing. He wiggled his toes for good measure, making you break into laughter once more.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugged.

“I love that about you. That you’re really tall.”

“Do you, now?”

You hummed in response.

“It’s sexy.”

He chuckled, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink.

“Oh… so I’m sexy?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh.

“Of course you are,” was your only answer, offered as if it was obvious.

Sometimes he forgot that you loved him this way. Like it was easy. Like there was nothing more natural in the world. That was how he felt for you; loving you felt as natural as filling his lungs with air, blinking at the bright sun, moving his leg over yours in bed. It was easy. Obvious. Ineffable.

You said that you felt like that, too. If it were a truth, it was a hard one to believe in. He wanted to though, longed for the safety of certainty.

He looked up at the ceiling, let out a long exhale as you nuzzled into his neck again, ran your fingers across his chest in such a soothing way, he almost closed his eyes.

He needed to stop overthinking this. You were here, in his arms, naked, loving him… it ought to be proof enough that you truly wanted him.

This fear he had felt in the car, seeing you walk away, this… uncontrollable dread that you could leave… He had to stop thinking about it, but he couldn’t.

What if you left?

He tried to picture his life without you in it. There would still be Elwood, his parents, his brother, Alex, his friends, his classes, his writing, music, poetry. He could find someone else, eventually. He hated every part of it…

When he pictured you in the same scenarios, everything seemed brighter. His life was better simply because you were in it. He tried to think of his life in a year, in five years, in ten years, in sixty years… Every time the life he wanted had you in it. He couldn’t picture a future that was happy without you being a part of it.

He had never felt like that before. Even with Sam. He had thought he would always love her, and yet, there were bits of his life that he didn’t picture her into. He could imagine living on his own, he could imagine his career, his friends, his family… without Sam in it, and still be content.

Not with you. All these lonesome pictures felt wrong. You were missing…

He thought of his life, the one that awaited him, that laid at his feet, and he didn’t want to live it without you.

“What are you thinking about?”

Your voice was quiet, warm. When he looked down at you again, if there was puzzlement in your gaze, there was infinite tenderness too.

He wanted this to last forever. You. Him. Forever…

He never wanted this to end. And somehow, he just knew then. That the reason why he couldn’t picture a happy life without you, was simply because you were the one for him. You were the love of his life. And his heart would always be yours.

He thought he would be scared by such a realisation, but he wasn’t. He reckoned the feelings had been in his heart for too long, had become a part of him. He was simply putting words on what he felt. You were the love of his life. He was so happy it was you…

He wanted to believe that you felt the same, but he wasn’t sure. It was okay. One day, perhaps, he would be. If he loved you for long enough, if he let you love him fully, perhaps, one day, he would stop being afraid of losing you.

Instead of answering by any of these thoughts, he cupped your cheek, gave you a tender smile.

“Nothing important. I love you, that’s all.”

Andrew was on the porch, you could hear him play the guitar. A soft melody you didn’t know, perhaps it was his own. You encouraged him to write full songs, but he kept on claiming he didn’t really want to. Poetry was enough. Music was enough. The two entities didn’t need to mingle. Sometimes he did play some guitar, hummed a melody to match one of his poems. Which you called ‘writing a song’, but he called it ‘exploring a theme through different media’. You rolled your eyes at him every time.

After the heavy rains of the afternoon, the evening was sunny and surprisingly warm. Outside, the sun was setting, kissing the hills goodbye as it lingered on their tops, flashing its golden hues into the sky before it would grow dark. You walked out with a cup of warm tea in each of your hands, took a moment to watch the beautiful colours in the sky, all golden and orange fading into red. It was quiet, you had rented a small house as an AirBnB in the country side, and there was no one around. Your closest neighbours owned a farm about a kilometre away, the road leading to the cottage was rarely used. You let your eyes travel across the fields, the green of grass, the deeper shades of bushes, the winding lines of stone walls. It was magical, in a way. There was something anchoring to this land, that made you feel like you belonged there.

The soft melody resumed on Andrew’s guitar, you turned to him. Elwood was lying at his feet with his eyes closed, but the movement of his tail told you he wasn’t asleep. Andrew was sitting on a wooden bench, right under the window of the kitchen, his legs stretched before him and taking up the whole width of the porch. His fingers danced on strings, he was humming every now and then. His notebook was by his side, open on a page stained with black ink. It was the notebook you had offered him the previous year, for his birthday. He never went anywhere without it. He seemed so peaceful, a content smile tugging at his lips. His long hair was tight in a messy bun, and he was gorgeous in an old pair of jeans and a blue plaid shirt, his skin and hair bathed in the golden light of the sinking sun. Beyond him, hills rolled, green and gorgeous. Andrew was all you could see.

You remained standing there, motionless, like a fool, staring at your partner with awe written all over your features. It was such a mundane, simple sight. And yet, it struck you then. The depth of your feelings for him, your longing for this never to end, for him never to leave.

It was silly… so silly… to realise that truth just by watching him, in casual clothes, playing mindless melodies on his guitar. And yet, that was the moment when you admitted to yourself that this was the life you wanted. You. Him. Forever. You never wanted this to end.

And God, he told you he loved you daily, showed it even more in a thousand actions and attentions he had for you each day. And yet, a part of you was still afraid he would leave, that you could lose him. What would you do without him?

You hadn’t noticed the music fading, too busy getting lost in the green of his eyes as he turned to you.

“You’re alright, love?” he asked, accent thick on his tongue with the fondness of his words, while he tilted his head.

You shook yourself, walked over to him.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m okay,” you smiled. “Made you some tea.”

“Oh, thanks!”

He accepted the cup you offered, moved his notebook so you could sit by his side. You didn’t mean to pry, you knew Andrew would not want you to read his writing unless he offered to tell you about it, so you looked away from the notebook as soon as you caught the title of his new poem.

That You Are.

“It’s about you,” he explained, noticing your glimpse at the notebook.

“I didn’t read…”

“I know. I trust you.”

You exchanged a smile.

“Are you really writing about me?” you asked, feeling shier now.

He chuckled, kissed your cheek.

“Who else could I write about? You’re my partner…” he answered, bending slightly in search of your gaze.

“I don’t know… your mistress…”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re right, she’s hiding in the trunk of our car.”

“Can she breathe in there?”

“Bottle of oxygen.”

“Clever.”

He shook his head at you while laughing, but when he spoke again he was serious once more.

“It’s not quite finished, you can’t read it for now.”

“That’s okay. Do you want to tell me more about what it’s about?”

He shrugged, blushing.

“It’s about… being in love with you. And… wanting to be where you are all the time.”

He stared at you, and you couldn’t help yourself when you reached up to cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

“What about the music?”

“Just…something I’ve been thinking about. To go with the poem.”

“So… you’re writing me a song now? Am I about to be serenaded?”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re insufferable,” he mumbled, before shushing your unspoken teasing with a quick kiss.

“I like it when you sing.”

“I know.”

There was something emotional shining in his eyes, but he didn’t speak more about it, and you let him draw the conversation away.

“What have you been up to?” he asked, taking a sip of his warm beverage while he put his guitar away.

He always asked these kinds of questions. At the end of every day he asked about how your classes had been, how was your research, how you were feeling. What had you been doing during the hours you had spent apart? It wasn’t prying, if you didn’t want to tell him, he didn’t insist. He just… genuinely wanted to know how your day had been. And you did the same for him. You remembered a time when you had settled for less than that simple, daily gesture. What an idiot you had been…

“I was just checking the weather for the coming days. It should be sunny on the Arans in a couple of days, so perhaps we could stay on the main land tomorrow. Perhaps a nice trek? It should rain early in the morning, but it’ll clear before noon.”

Andrew nodded, sipping on his tea, readjusting his glasses. At his feet, Elwood was now napping for good.

“We can drive to the national park, it isn’t far from here” he offered, looking at your phone as you showed him a page that referenced some paths across the wilderness of Connemara.

“Yeah, I thought we could walk around a lough.”

You studied the maps for a while, decided which path you would take the next day. Once the plans for your little adventure were sorted, Andrew gave you a mischievous smile, turning around and swinging his long legs over the edge of the bench. You fondly smiled as he moved to rest his head on your laps. His knees were bent over the edge of the bench, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Can I?” you asked in a quiet, tender voice as you lightly tugged on his hairband. He merely lifted his head a little as a response, so you could free his long curls, letting the chestnut strands cover your laps.

You took off his glasses too, secured them by your side. He let his eyes close with a relieved sigh as you ran your hands through his hair. You felt his body relax, the tension in his muscles disappear under your soft touch.

“This is so nice,” he hummed.

“It is,” you nodded, softly scratching his scalp, and he let out a long breath in response.

“I know that we had to wait until August to leave for our anniversary, instead of celebrating properly at the right date… but it was worth the wait!”

“We did celebrate on the date, though.”

“Yeah… but this is the actual celebration. Like… the real gift.”

“Hmm… yeah, you’re right. And I agree, it was worth the wait.”

“We outdid ourselves with this trip.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“It feels so nice to be just the two of us. To not have to worry about the usual, daily problems for a while.”

“Yeah… I reckon we both needed this.”

He took one of your hands in his. While you kept on running your fingers through his hair, he brought your other hand to his mouth, pressed it to his lips for a long kiss, intertwining your fingers together. He brought it to rest on his sternum next, stroking your knuckles.

You wanted to tell him, then. That he was the one. That he was the love of your life. That you never wanted him to leave…

But you couldn’t. You didn’t have neither the courage nor the strength. It had been a year, it was too soon. You knew, but he probably didn’t. Why scare him off when you could stay quiet and stare at his handsome features while the day ended and a new night was born out of the sun’s absence? It was safer this way…

“I love you so much, Y/N. You know that, right?” he asked in a whisper, and you noticed by how his voice had quietened that he was beginning to drift off to sleep.

You offered a tender smile he couldn’t see.

“I love you too, Andy. More than anything.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, and a moment later, his lips were parting, and he was asleep, your hand still in his, resting on his chest, and his head on your lap. You kept on looking at him, admired his peaceful expression as he slept, every detail of his face, making sure to commit each of them to memory. You didn’t pay much attention to the dying sunset, despite the colours it shone onto the world. Only when it was getting too dark for you to see Andrew’s features did you notice the passage of time. But then again, he was beautiful like this, and his hair was so soft, and the weight of his head on your lap was reassuring, grounding…

Five more minutes…

[thatonedogart]

Did someone say Mouthwashing AU??? NO??? WELL THATS TOO BAD!! [open full screen for high res]

Welcome to my version of Mouthwashing, where we find out what happens if curly didn’t burn to near completion and instead suffered from a minor (major) breakage of his mental well being while still being par cooked like a fillet

ITS CABIN FEVER BABY!

Watch out Jimmy, those responsibility are gonna start piling up.

Now please enjoy some in AU cannon writing Drabble from the wonderful nurse Anya

Curly

“I can’t feel it anymore, I can only feel you, rotting in the back of my mind.”

Captain Curly, one seriously stubborn patient. Between ripping off his bandages and being insistent on disobeying bed rest orders he makes for an exhausting handful. That’s not even mentioning the side effects from the oxycodone.

-took away his boots, not only were they burned but he’d most likely break an ankle

-not that he’s said much but the current change in appearance is upsetting him

-don’t mention the small bald spot and grey hairs growing in from the explosion

-he barely makes sense, waking in stints of 2-3 hour intervals

Jimmy

“He’s clearly lost his mind. Don’t listen to him.”

Current head captain of the ship, Jimmy, doesn’t allow anyone to check him over since the crash. With curly waking up he’s only become more irritated, keeps suggesting curly needs more medication. Maybe it’s stressing him out to see his ex captain and friend in such a state of harm?

-still wears clothes from day of the crash despite barely washing the blood out

-stated multiple times curly had lost his mind and tried to attack him

-frankly I don’t want him in this office, even if he was hurt

-curly doesn’t tolerate his presence anymore

[no longer allowed to give the patient his meds or provide assistance]

Daisuke

“Everything’s fine. Right? Right. Everything is fine.”

Jittery anxious intern, very welcoming to any and all needed checkups. It’s clear he’s suffering from some developed anxiety disorder, the stress of the situation is becoming to dire. Aside from spraining an ankle on the day of the crash he’s been in perfect physical health.

-rarely seen above deck since Curly started waking up

-now hoarding most of the small adhesive bandages as he’s been biting his nails

-still up for small chat but something is definitely keeping him wired

-“the hello kitty ones are the best” said the bandage thief

Swansea

“I’ve seen too much bad shit happen in long hauls before, leave me out of this.”

Our master mechanic Swansea, has had zero things to report to medical. Always clear and straight to the point he wants to be left out of the fuss. Especially with the current conflict between our captains.

I wonder what his family thinks of him.

-conversations are rare

-most of his time is preoccupied with the master controls in the cockpit and Daisuke

-had a momentary relapse with alcohol before curly started waking up

-our weakest moments are not our proudest but it doesn’t change who we are

Anya

“When you wake up from a bad dream, the dream is supposed to end.”

Nurse Anya, nothing to report. Taking care of curly has been my top priority, fatigued and strained I may be but I swore I would help people.

-nauseous, no medication on board to help

-exhausted, curly keeps me up even if I manage to fall asleep

-could really use a hot shower

-it feels ridiculous making notes on my own self.

[yeonmuse]

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ Curtain Call ·˚ ༘

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x lee heeseung ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷

authors notes This is a follow up to Heeseungs side story in Can You Hear My Heart. It takes place directly after the final chapter of Jungwons Mini Series. This is not a Hee X Reader series, but if youd like to replace the characters name with your own feel free to. This is part of admins University series

IN WHICH 𖤓 Heeseung has a thing for the theaters golden girl, he’s been crushing on her for months. He’s got it so bad for her that he somehow lets Jake talk him into attending auditions just to get closer to her.

Join the taglist here

Quiet on set

The hell-like weekend had finally ended and it was now time to get back to classes and rehearsals. The fact that so much had happened in the timespan of just two days still completely shocked sakoia, obviously life was unpredictable and moved fast but she had never expected her weekend to turn out as it had. In two days alone she had met a new friend and lost her due to her being a complete snake.

Aside from the agonizing events of the weekend Sakoia did find herself smiling at the thought of Heeseung going out of his way just to make sure she knew he wasn’t an asshole. Though as quick as the smoke spread across her face it went away, she wouldn’t allow herself to sit and swoon over someone so easily. Though he made it hard, the last 2 months since Jungwons party, any time she’d seen him around or conversed with him he always had this way of making her laugh or smile. The confidence and charm he held could obviously draw a woman in, but it made her feel so easy how simple it was for him to worm his way into her thoughts.

She had been completely lost in her thoughts of the events from last night. She hadn’t realized Heeseung creeping up at her side as she walked.

“Lost in your pretty thoughts so early in the morning?” His voice snapped her back to her senses , warning a smile from Heeseung when she actually made eye contact with him.

“Mm thinking about everything that happened over the weekend, it was a complete shitshow.” Heeseung chuckles seemingly unbothered by the mention of the events, as long as she had forgiven him he truly didn’t care about anything else that had happened over the weekend.

“Mm yeah, ill have to find some sort of way to make it up to Nezz, since it was partially my fault her night was kind of spoiled.”

“Mm don’t worry too much about it, she knows it wasn’t your fault, her and Yuan were completely understating everything once I told them why you blew up like that, we all thought..”

“You thought?”

“We thought that maybe she was just a fling to you, earlier that night Nezza had said that you were the type to mess around, that you don’t usually date.” The tension in the air grew thick as the words left her mouth, she usually wasn’t the type to pre judge but the events of that night had her convinced that it was true up until he explained it all to her. As much as she hated it though, there was part of her that was still holding onto those words, wondering if they were true.

“She was right.” Sakoia felt her stomach twist in knotts at his response.

“She was right about back then yeah, way before, before a few months ago I couldn’t bother dating anyone, didn’t trust anyone enough to date them so yeah there were a few i did have flings with but, wasn’t exactly for me.”

“Is it because of her, Rena?”

“She’s part of the reason yeah, after that it was always hard for me to trust anyone so I steered away from the relationships and titles, though now I’ve had my eye on someone for a while now, been trying to get close to her, she’s the only one I’m really interested in dating.” There was a subtle silence between the two, she seemed lost in thought but all he could do was stare at her as they walked, all he could do was admire how beautiful she looked when she was lost in her own head.

The two of them eventually arrived at the auditorium, sheltered from the cold outside, and engulfed into the warmth of the building. This was their first official practice since the roles had been announced, and thankfully Heeseung wasn’t as nervous as before. Having spent more time with her he was now a lot more confident and comfortable in the role when it came to scenes with her.

Sakoia found heels watching him as he took off his jacket and threw it onto a seat in the front row. She found heels a little distracted after hearing his words earlier, so he was interested in someone. She was forced to come to her senses as the rest of the cast started sauntering into the auditorium, and the two were no longer alone.

For the first time since she started acting she found herself somewhat distracted when she’d look at him. Whether it was her trying to figure out who he had his eyes on, or her trying to distract herself from the fact that she did in fact find him attractive.

Meanwhile all Heeseung could think about was her, how pretty she looked, how angelic her voice sounded as she delivered her lines. The way her nose scrunched up whenever she was deep into her thoughts in between scenes. She was all that he saw.

Chapterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

🔖 @sol3chu @butterflywonz @jwonistic @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @lillotus17 @dreeki @jiamini @st4rryst4r @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time @pkjay

[papagabu]

The other day I kind of went on a whole thing about Shadow regarding my feelings towards the character to help people understand how I plan to portray him in my AU. But I decided I want to give my reason for why Tails is the main character of my AU.

The short answer is the Metal Breakers AU is inspired by two ideas I had: What if Metal Sonic rebelled against Eggman early, and the idea that if Sonic died, Tails would replace him as the hero of Earth.

The long answer.

Tails is a character that I feel has loads of untapped potential, like Silver, but unlike Silver, whose potential is wasted just off the fact we almost never see the guy, Tails is just held back by two things. First, his age; people like to call him weak a lot of the time, but Tails is frequently shown and even stated to be comparable to Sonic. He’s still below him but very close. Tails is also younger, so there’s a lot of potential for growth there; he would likely easily surpass Sonic if it weren’t for the second, more substantial thing holding him back: his complacency. Tails doesn’t really strive to be the best; he strives to be equal with Sonic, which is not a bad thing. It’s cute and nice that he’s got a humbleness to him that makes him not really strive for more than standing beside his big bro.

Tails is also just flat-out my favorite character; he always has been since I was little and likely always will be, seeing as how I still have love for the little guy after the character assassination he went through the during previous decade. For the longest time I couldn’t figure out why I liked Tails specifically. Looking at him, he didn’t seem particularly remarkable compared to other characters in the series; even at his best, sure, he’s cute, but that can only get you so far when you have to compete with characters like Shadow and Blaze. But I’ve finally realized why in recent years, to me Tails is easily the most relatable and inspirational character in the franchise; this seemingly innocuous little boy has such real aspirations and shortcomings.

I already mentioned how he just wants to stand beside Sonic. Tails doesn’t want to be the coolest; he wants to be seen as cool as Sonic. He doesn’t want to be the strongest or fastest; hell, he doesn’t even seem to want to be the smartest; that just seems to be something he was gifted with. Tails just wants what makes him happy, and that’s being beside the person that makes him happy, the hedgehog who practically gave Tails everything he needed in life. Sonic, the first real friend Tails likely ever had, the first person he could ever really call family. And I love that about Tails; at his best, his relationship with Sonic doesn’t just serve to make Tails a better character but Sonic too. I don’t think Sonic would be anywhere near as likable of a character to me if he didn’t have this precious little bean he’s constantly uplifting; Sonic inspires Tails to be better, and Tails inspires Sonic to be more loving, because without that relationship, Sonic would be almost all snark, which would really get old, as games like Colors, Lost World; and Forces have shown us.

Tails also easily has the saddest backstory; as sparse as it is, the bigger picture we can gather from what we know is not pretty at all. The fact he was bullied is what’s usually focused on, but we also know Tails was homeless and had to sleep outside a lot before he met Sonic, and that stormy nights were the hardest to get through, which is why he’s scared of lightning. That one statement has so many implications; why wasn’t Tails put in an orphanage? Why did no parents or other family take him in? Why did no one take him in? There’s no reason given, but you can make some assumptions; one I personally headcanon is because of the fact there’s implied to have been an ancient civilization on West Side Island where Tails was born. The people from his town or village are likely descendants of that civilization and have carried superstitious beliefs from that ancient culture. It’s very likely that Tails’s mutation was seen as a bad omen of sorts, so he was chased out of town; it would explain why he wouldn’t even be allowed in an orphanage and why he’d be such an easy target for bullying from the other children. And living isolated and ostracized like this, Tails probably had to do stuff like eat garbage, bugs, and small animals to survive. It can also give an explanation for how he took up engineering; he likely attempted to build ways to defend himself from the elements using parts he’d find in people’s garbage, or at a local dump or something. And this trauma has obviously left him with some deep-seated issues, low self-esteem being the most prevalent. You can even easily rationalize his portrayal in Sonic Forces, especially when you take into account the fact that since Colors, Sonic had seemingly been actively holding Tails back, keeping him away from danger rather than letting Tails stand beside him. Tails had come to rely on Sonic again due to Sonic’s actions causing Tails to lose the confidence he built up over time. Lost World is inexcusable, though, but I like to pretend that game doesn’t exist, considering it contributes nothing to the series (that anyone actually likes). 

I headcanon Tails as bisexual, I used to be against the idea of Tails being gay due to all of the evidence of him liking girls but I got into a weird conversation with a friend of a friend a couple years ago where I ended up conceding and saying I could accept Tails being bi.

[write-it-like-disaster]

I wouldn’t say that I’m old exactly, but I will say that I’m probably quite a bit older than the average tumblr user, so my fan fiction experience is a bit different.

I come from a time (“it’s been 84 years…”) when there was very little LGBTQIA+ representation in media, and the characters that were around tended to be minor, with limited background and development (I sure did love Maggie Doyle, though. Can I get an ‘amen’?). The gayest thing on TV up through my high school years was probably Will & Grace and Tara and Willow from Buffy.

Like, seriously, that was it. The L Word didn’t even come out til my second year of college. And it wasn’t until after the Clexa debacle that media eased up on the ‘bury your gays’ trope and we finally started to get lasting, fully developed queer characters.

So, what I’m saying is, is that for a very very long time queer folk especially had to create their own content, based off of subtext and lots of imagination. And even then, there wasn’t an amazing database to go to, to pull up whatever pairing for whatever show you wanted. It took some digging. I remember logging on to the AOL (dial up mind you) and somehow stumbling across a Spice Girls vampire AU fic on someone’s personal website when I was in middle school and just being COMPLETELY OBSESSED with it, scouring the internet for Buffy/Faith and Maggie Doyle fanfic, consuming everything I could find. And this made me feel normal and not so alone, because I knew there were other people out there reading this stuff too.

I wrote fanfic when I was in high school, but never even considered sharing it, too afraid I’d be found out somehow by people in real life but also because I didn’t think my writing was good enough for others to read. I couldn’t even fathom that anyone would want to read my gay little stories (though I have to say, several of them were probably better than some of the stuff I’ve written as an adult). And then I just stopped. Life got busy and fanfic just wasn’t an outlet that I had time for.

I didn’t start to consistently read or write fanfic again til a couple of years ago (so that’s a 20+ year gap, yikes) but it’s been awesome to have that sense of community and belonging again. And this time around I felt comfortable enough to actually share my work with others, it’s been so nice, especially hearing that something I wrote resonated with a reader or gave them goosebumps or just impacted them in some way. I never thought my writing would be able to do that!

So, knowing how much it can mean to an author and how much work goes into writing a fic, I always try to leave positive comments on works I read and like. I guess because I don’t take it for granted, having all these amazing stories at my fingertips, and I’m incredibly grateful.

What does fanfiction mean to you?

I'm asking this question because today I came across some ugly, mean-spirited, catty behavior towards a fic author that I haven't seen in a very, very long time, and I think it's important we discuss it as a community.

Y'all know how long I've been doing this? Fanfiction, that is.

Eighteen years.

I've posted across different platforms, on different handles, in different ways for a long, long time. More than half of my life at this point, from fourteen years old.

Fanfiction is how I personally engage with fandom the most. It's THE most important thing to me, frankly, because it is the common thread between each and every single fandom I have ever participated in.

It's self-expression to me. Folk art. Collaborative and fun. I truly hope that most people who engage in fanfiction learn what it is to beta for someone even if you don't write yourself. It can be a fantastic experience in and of itself. Being the backboard to someone else's ideas, watching as they take genuine joy out of spinning a story together to put onto the page, seeing it come to life before anyone else and feeling almost as proud as the author themselves after they finally post it.

It's ultimately why I decided to make this post far more positive and productive than the angry, grumpy, blood boiling rant that I initially was churning over in my mind after the horrible posts I saw earlier.

I'll detail them here purely for context because I think it's important to recognize toxic fandom behavior when we see it. And speak out when we stumble across it.

The first post lauded itself as an 'honest review' of a popular fanfiction in a community I am a part of. That honest review was nothing more than a pop-critique filled with a sort of catty, snarky write up that is so popular nowadays online purely to gain clout more than to act as actual, constructive criticism. It was unnecessary and acted as though the fanfiction author was a professional, New York Times Bestseller rather than someone devoting hours of their free time and effort into a hobby that is ultimately meant to be fun and pleasant.

The second post by the same person claimed that their friend had challenged them to write their own version of the premise of this fanfiction under a read more cut. It spent some time applying a thin veneer of so-called respect to the original author, but was merely nothing more than contempt really. I simply fail to see the need to ever do this while publicly attaching an author's name and work title and arrogantly parade your own work as superior to their own. Why tear down someone else?

I pushed back against them directly on this post, they took it down, but not before childishly trying to excuse their actions and claiming that 'if someone is publicly posting, then they should be able to handle vocal criticism.'

But you know what? One, what that person was doing was not constructive criticism. I think back to the beta session I had with a friend right after this incident and I think to myself, how sad must it be that this is what this person thinks is valuable criticism. That this is the way they chose to engage with the fanfiction community and thought they were in the right to do so.

Two, and perhaps even more importantly, people are accountable for the things that they post. The things that they say. It would have cost this person nothing to never make those posts in the first place. To never risk an author coming across a mean-spirited and malicious teardown of the work they put hours into and risk harming their self-esteem, mental health, or confidence in their own writing.

Because we do not know who these people are behind their handles. We do not know if they're new to writing. If they are experienced but going through a tough time. There are real people who write the content you choose to consume.

Fanfiction is a collaborative process. Writers provide the free content, and it is the reader's responsibility to know when their input would be valuable.

Is what you have to say helpful? Is it kind? Is it necessary?

If the feedback you want to provide does not hit at least two of those things, what you have to say does not matter. Period.

And I daresay that in the vast majority of cases, kindness should be considered mandatory out of the three.

In return, writers will often throw in ideas they've read out of reviews, they'll reach out to their most ardent followers for things like beta-ing or joining a discord server nowadays. There's always been a give and take in this community.

Fanfiction is a cornerstone of fandom for a reason. And it is particularly important in the queer community, going all the way back to actual physical magazines in which people mailed in their KirkxSpock fic decades ago. Over time we've experimented on the process, moved to countless different platforms, survived collapses of all sorts of communities, only to rally over and over again around each other to be able to tell the tales we wanted to see but were not getting as queer folk amongst mainstream media.

And in that time, it's been long agreed on in this space that you do not tear down another writer to build yourself up. Ever. Period. This has long been the only thing in fanfiction that has been aggressively policed, called out, and nipped in the bud when experienced members of this community come across it.

It will not be tolerated.

I shouldn't have to make this post, but I suppose this is the changing of the guard, so to speak. We have a new generation of fic writers and readers coming into the space daily and while so many of you are wonderful, creative, and welcomed members of this space that has been here long before me or anyone of my age, there are some who do not know how to act in the fanfiction community.

And it is up to us to make it clear in no uncertain terms that they will need to either get with program or be pushed out.

To become the best version of yourself as a writer requires hours of work, of posting again and again, of experimentation, of putting hints of your own life and experiences onto the page. The vast majority of us will never be published, and that's just fine for most of us. We engage in this hobby because of how joyful it can be to write something dear to our hearts, share it with the world, and be validated that others enjoyed the work that we put in.

Frankly, readers will always owe it to us to respect that process and work. To be respectful and kind when interacting with authors. Constructive criticism can be welcomed but perhaps ask if the author is open to it and do not take it personally if they are not. And if they are, then learn how to give it with the writer's best interest in mind rather than your own ego.

I don't ordinarily request reblogs to my posts, I rant into the void and it doesn't matter to me if anyone really interacts on an ordinary day lol. But today, I want to ask that people share this message out in your fandoms, because I will be tagging it in the fandoms I interacted in, both past and present. Because fanfiction is a common thread that unites so many of us, and I think this is an important reminder on how we need to be respectful and kind to one another in this space.

If you feel comfortable, I would also love to hear how fanfiction is important to you. How you got into it. Why you love to either read, write, or beta it.

This is hobby that is meant to be fun, so let's have fun.

[fistfuloflightning]

Can i request maedhros and maeglin pls pls i miss your art of them 🥹

The waiting was the worst part. The Feanorians were cleaning up stragglers from Doriath, too busy to keep a lookout for Maedhros. Only Maeglin remained planted at the edge of the camp, as he had been for several days now, with only Maglor as sporadic company.

The snow had whipped up, shrouding the skeletal trees of the forest and reducing the men to red-cloaked wraiths. Maeglin continued pacing, and as he turned once more, his eye was caught by movement at the camp’s edge.

Maedhros, emerging from the snow like a ghost. Armor discarded and his cloak wrapped tightly around him. A cry was torn out of Maeglin and he took off running, boots light on the snow. Up close, Maedhros looked haggard and worn, his scars more defined. But there was a spark of life in his grey eyes that Maeglin had never seen.

Maedhros’ cloak squirmed.

Maeglin gaped at the small bundles held tightly to Maedhros’ chest. A glimpse of two silver-gilt heads and disproportionally large ears. Elflings. “You found them?” he breathed, gripping Maedhros’ arm.

And that spark of warmth in his eyes fell on Maeglin. Joy. Victory. Peace.

“I did.”

[sunnemona]

☆2024 has been so difficult for me, and i want to end the year off on a high note by thanking everyone who’s been there for me through it.

☆thank you for talking to me. thank you for listening to me talk to you in return. thank you for staying on vc with me to play games or talk or draw or cry together. thank you for keeping my secrets. thank you for telling me yours. thank you for the gifts you’ve given me. thank you for the advice you’ve offered when i needed help. thank you for the silly messages you've sent me unprompted—it is so joyous to be remembered when i’m not around. thank you for making me feel safe. thank you for letting me stay by your side. thank you for staying by mine.

☆the passage of time is so scary to me, i think. once things are over you can never get them back—all you can do is move forward and hold the memories close to your heart. thank you for the memories you’ve given me, i will treasure them eternally. i am so happy that we get to keep moving forward together, from one year into the next.

☆to kia, diggs, casey, and everyone in sweaties gang; to wewa and rei; to lorel; to eliza and mitsu; to wiz and corbell; to alex, nash, geddon, and paperd; to worm and goldie; to candy and ashe; to haze, mono, benji, and chasm; to my partners (sasha, robin, and keith); to steel; to michael, and to collie;

i am so grateful i know you. i am so grateful we exist here, at the same time, together. thank you for everything. i love you, i love you, i love you.

@dreemurr-skelememer @digglesgiggles @megaloserrr @lollipopz-shop @popiplant @aoartmthebitxh @s3-izures @otterbup @kuvlarstuff @heartstitched @thiccsys @b0tanicalb00ba @popiplant @rushroulett3 @wewawoomp @dagwmeno @onlyplatonicirl @elizakai @swiftmitsu @wizb1z @calciumdreams @psycho-chair @nashdoesstuff @unknownarmageddon @canine-teethed-sheets @fishfrypi @candy-cryptid @narrators1and2 @hazerun3 @monolite001 @bonejello @chasmbreach @xyriscomplanata @livinganime14 @paddinglily @corvidmellow @lambradire-art @hackrusty

♡

[damthosefandoms]

vietnam vet soda who comes home and goes back to work at the DX as if nothing changed, except now he’s got a stool to sit on behind the counter because standing on his knee for too long hurts like a bitch, and girls still come in and flirt with him and teenage greasers steal packs of cigarettes and steve—when they finally let him come home, too, mostly unscathed with the exception of a little bit of shell shock—still works in the garage and is out there pumping gas and they’re okay. soda’s okay. as okay as he’s going to be, cause he’ll never be okay again.

and then, one day he’s sitting there, minding his own business, listening to a baseball game on the radio when the bells on the door to the convenience store chime, and soda can’t help but stare. “cherry valance?”

their eyes meet, so she walks over, and she tries to play it cool like she didn’t come here following a rumor—and a silly letter she’s treasured since it came in the mail a few months back—and soda says, “I figured you got out of here years ago.” and cherry goes, “I thought you did, too. You stopped working here one day and nobody’s seen you since. where have you been?”

but as she’s saying it, her eyes fall to the dog tags around his neck, the ones he’s chewing on the chain of—and she remembers it so clearly, how every day after his parents died he would wear the name darrel curtis around his neck, how it was his way of keeping his father with him. but now the name on the cold metal is his own.

she clocks the knee brace and the crutches propped up against the wall behind him, and she regrets opening her mouth at all. but soda doesn’t seem to care, because he wrote her that letter, that one where he poured his heart out to her, and she’s been trying to find him since but hasn’t had the courage to ask his brothers about him because part of her must’ve known where he was, anyway.

“i get it now, why you never liked fighting. i don’t think i’ll ever like it again.”

and before cherry can even apologize for the dumbest question she’s ever asked, an even dumber one comes out of soda’s mouth:

“I’m off at seven, do you wanna get dinner?”

and, yeah, the answer has always been yes.

[beanjang-draws]

Im gonna nerd out with the thoughts I’ve had while making this update for a second excuse me

Celestia

She isn’t doing well here like…at all. Major calamities are hitting her kingdom one after another and she is TIREDDD and this, among other things maybe, are affecting how she’s been thinking. As she’s dealing with more extreme scenarios, she feels forced to make more extreme decisions. As burned out as she is, at her heart, she just wants her ponies to be safe.

Sunburst and Moondancer

Sunburst and Moondancer are both former students of Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns who got scouted to work on a project figuring out what this new sickness is.

Sunburst excels in theoreticals. Got a spell on the tip of your tongue but for the love of Celestia you can’t figure it out? Sunburst is your guy. Despite that, he is not actually a strong spell caster and the shame he felt from his performance made him drop out.

Moondancer on the other hoof is a powerful unicorn with a great output capacity. She’s less intuitive than say, Twilight, but the fact that the best comparison for her is a pony whose special talent is literally magic goes to show how high her potential is. She just withdrew from most of society because she felt incredibly rejected by her friend ghosting her.

Both of them are pretty insecure, but really they just needed a push to continue their work. Being selected by the princess for an important secret project is enough of an honor to jumpstart them both. Being a largely research-focused environment, Sunburst can show off his knowledge while avoiding triggering his inferiority complex surrounding spell casting (for now) and Moondancer is forced to be a team player and give workplace pleasantries if not outright friendship a chance. Essentially, they both benefit from a sense of purpose.

I thought putting them in a situation together would be good for both of them, and i definitely have plans for them in the future.

Flash Sentry

Flash is a talented up and coming member of the Royal Guard. Despite being younger than most of his fellow guard, Flash has benefited from his youthful passion. He’s fiercely loyal, and so far being outspoken and perhaps a little overzealous has been either rewarded or seen as charming by others.

However, on the quaint streets of Canterlot, there’s rarely a chance to see how your everyday attitudes might serve you during more intense scenarios. All of the guard have the Changeling invasion and Princess kidnappings fresh on their minds, and it has younger guards like Flash more riled up than usual.

Flash acted on how he felt, and he wasn’t feeling anything typical to the world of candy colored ponies. The dangers of having an armed guard who isn’t used to high intensity situations are shown briefly in his inappropriate intimidation of poor Lyra. Perhaps this is a reflection of how used to peacetime the guards have gotten…

This is all to say, ACAB, even in pony land.

Lyra Heartstrings

She was a volunteer who submitted herself to testing and screening for this research study. She definitely to NOT sign up for all of this….anyways did you catch that she and Bonbon have a cute little kid?? Hopefully this fact will distract you from the fact that I made her a Pegasus because I totally didn’t forget she’s a unicorn in the show—

Fleur de Lis

When I saw that she got voted into this episode I knew I wanted her to be one of the stretchy long horses that are everywhere in infection aus.

In-show Fleur is long-legged and elegant, constantly in motion. Which makes sense, since she’s a super model. I pictured her infection form to be this overly lanky figure moving towards me in a dark hall lit by a flickering light, her pose changing every time the light comes back on. Like a less fun horse rave.

In addition to her painfully long limbs, she has a lot of irritation going on in her skin and her eye, which is all swollen and cloudy. Despite all that, she’s trying to find Fancy. He came by often to visit her, and ended up getting sick himself. He decided to join the research study in support of Fleur, but that meant seeing her less. She really just wants to check up on him.

Plague Ponies - Duty-Bound

CONTENT WARNING: Blood (minor), violence, body horror

Previous | Next

Summary:

Shortly after recovering from the Plundervine attack, Celestia is readjusting her methods of protecting Equestria...

Having grown increasingly distrustful of herself and those around her, Celestia has taken to running things on her own again. She needs to remove any risk, even when it might take a familiar shape. In the midst of this process, things are breaking down at Canterlot Hospital and the guards stationed there have requested intervention--immediately.

Transcript below:

Title Page:

Plague Ponies Episode 6: "DutyBound"

Shortly after recovering from the plundervine attack, Celestia is readjusting her methods of protecting Equestria...

Content Warnings: blood and violence, body horror, disease mention

Comic Start

Celestia, thinking: What a quiet morning..

As she is lowering the moon and raising the sun for the day, Celestia is startled by the fiery arrival of a letter.

Celestia, thinking: Another letter...

Seeing Twilight's mark on the wax seal, Celestia's expression softens.

Celestia, thinking: Oh, it's from Twilight! Certainly a welcome change of pace...

Twilight's letter reads:

"Dear Princess Celestia,

I have begun preparing Ponyville for mass contagion as you have instructed. Construction of the experimental facilities are nearly complete, and I am gathering information on pre-existing infrastructure historically used in Ponyville in times of health crisis.

Granny Smith has shared with me an account of past protocols used during times of sickness. I intend to continue to work with the insight of everypony here.

We now have confirmation that a majority of Ponyville harbored an early version of the sickness. Although we assume that the wave of magic from The Tree of Harmony cleansed most of the residents...the small amount of remaining infections remain yet unaccounted for.

Participants to undergo observation have been selected, and testing is expected to run smoothly. Will an official statement be made soon? I believe patients may cooperate more readily when presented with more information.

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle"

Celestia lets out a sigh as she finishes reading Twilight's letter. She sends out a pre-written response letter and heads to the throne room. Upon entering, she uses alicorn magic on the throne to reveal a spiral staircase descending far below the castle.

Celestia's reply to Twilight reads: "Dear Twilight Sparkle,

For now, continue as you have done and keep the peace. In the wake of the recent Changeling invasion and the return of The Crystal Empire, keeping the peace is our priority.

I leave the continued care of The Elements of Harmony and The Tree of Harmony to you. I wish your princesshood had started during more peaceful times, but I know you and your friends are well-equipped to handle them.

Yours,

Celestia"

Celestia, thinking: Twilight, at least, can be trusted. What dark times these are, that nopony can be trusted--not even those dearest to us...

Celestia hesitates before entering a lit room at the end of the underground passageway.

Celestia Hello "Luna".

Luna stares up at Celestia from low on the ground. Her front legs and wings are restrained by chains. Black anti-magic crystals grow from her primary horn.

Luna: Sister, you must release me! Think of our subjects!

Celestia: Luna would understand that is precisely why I do this.

Luna: Sister, you are unwell...you cannot continue this way on your own--

Celestia: Silence.

Celestia uses her magic to raise Luna up. It seems to cost her a lot of effort as beads of sweat roll off of her body. She does not the dark curls of magic slinking by Luna's legs.

Celestia: I have been the sole guardian of Equestria for a thousand moons. I will not compromise the safety of my ponies. Not even for this. Changeling.

Luna hangs limply in the air, held up by the restraints on her wings.

Luna: It is you who are compromised. Your judgement grows hasty.

Celestia: Enough--

Luna: The gazes of your subjects you so thrived beneath...have become a burden to your addled mind.

Celestia: How dare you...

Before either of the sisters can say more, a letter arrives in a burst of flame.

Celestia: A letter from The Royal Guard...

Sunburst and Moondancer are in a storage closet. There is banging coming from the other side of the door.

Sunburst: I'm sure help is coming soon...we've just got to sit tight and stay calm!

Moondancer: You've said that for the past hour and a half now at least.

A particularly loud "CRACK" startles both ponies.

Moondancer: Can't I get one second to think?

Moondancer leaps to her feet and braces her hooves against the door, lighting her horn. Sunburst watches in both fascination and alarm. There's a flash of light, and a pink bubble now covers the door, blocking out all the noise.

Sunburst, thinking: To think, she'd cast a sustained spell just for some peace and quiet...

Moondancer: I know it's a little excessive...but I really needed a break from the noise. I'm normally on the analytics team so I'm used to...quieter environments.

Sunburst: I don't think any of us are used to hiding in a storage closet during a biohazard breach...but your barrier is definitely helping.

Sunburst: It's funny, we've been in the same project this whole time and I had no idea you were such a skilled spell caster! Silencing spells are so complicated, and this one is so stable--

Moondancer: It's not that hard once you've done it a few times. But um, thanks.

Moondancer awkwardly adjusts her glasses to brush off the praise. Sunburst doesn't really know what to say.

Sunburst: Ah, anyways, Moon Dancer, right? How are you at layering spells?

Moondancer: I've been doing it since I was a filly, why?

Sunburst: How familiar are you with magnetism spells?

Celestia and two Royal Guards are flying to the hospital. One of the guards is Flash Sentry.

Celestia: Report!

Flash Sentry: The quarantine zone was overrun at around sunrise. We were forced to lock down the laboratory.

Celestia: "Overrun"?

Flash Sentry: The patients have become...aggressive. All but two of the researchers have been evacuated.

Celestia: Contact with patients must be a last resort. Retrieving the researchers is priority.

They arrive at the hospital and find flashes of light coming from the windows.

Guard 1: That light...! It must be the researchers. None of the patients are able to use magic in their current state.

Celestia: I will lead. Avoid coming to blows if you can. I would like there to be little harm inflicted here today.

Both guards: Yes, your Majesty!

Celestia looks grim. She is still sweating quite a bit, clearly not at her best.

Celestia, thinking: I should never have entrusted this project to external facilities...I'm sorry for endangering you, my little ponies.

Celestia: Prepare to--what...

Celestia looks up in bewilderment to see the two missing researchers floating in pink bubbles. Sunburst is putting a haggard looking Fancy Pants to sleep.

Moondancer, whispering: Princess!

Sunburst, whispering: Please, ah, watch your step!

Moondancer: We've been putting patients into a magical sleep as we find them.

Celestia: And the two of you are alright?

Moondancer: It's been a strange day in the lab for sure...luckily Sunburst here had the idea to combine bubbles of silence and a gravity reversal spell so we didn't have to stay trapped in a storage closet. Who knows how long it would have taken for us to be discovered!

Sunburst: It wouldn't have been much of a plan if there weren't a spell caster capable of pulling it off!

Moondance: Oh please, this isn't much--Woah!

Moondancer and Sunburst are surprised as something zooms by.

Flash Sentry: Princess, watch out!

Lyra Heartstrings slams into a wall close to everyone. Flash Sentry moves instinctively to shield Celestia. Before anyone else can react, he has a spear pointed at Lyra.

Flash Sentry: Halt! You are charged with unruly flying in the presence of the princess. Put away your wings and come with us quietly...

Lyra Heartstrings: Run!

Flash Sentry looks over his shoulder to see an unrecognizable Fleur De Lis contorting herself through the halls Lyra had just flown from.

Lyra, quietly: Stay silent...she can't see us.

End transcript.

[velidewrites]

ACOTAR x Castlevania Character Sheets: Part 1/6

Rhysand “Dracula” Tepes 🩸🦇

Last year, @damedechance, @shadowisles-writes and I started watching Castlevania together and lives were changed. Today just so happens to be @damedechance’s birthday and I wanted to celebrate her by gifting her this AU! This is part 1/6 of this little story, and I hope you enjoy it just as much as I did making it.

Happy birthday, @damedechance!! I’m so lucky to call you my friend. You’re a beautiful person inside and out, and your talent knows no bounds. Everyone seeing this post is legally obligated to go wish her a happy birthday and report back to receive a smooch.

[therealslimshakespeare]

i was thinking about what late night talks with bucky would be like (call me crazy), and it got me thinking:

other than dying (though arguably some are not afraid of dying), what do you think some of the mota men’s greatest fears are? i could write a hundred essays on each of them, they all are so different!

Gosh, this is an incredible ask and it got me thinkin. Too hard, probably. And while I didn’t summarize thoughts for everyone I did think of them for Bucky.

So much so I wrote a little blurb on it. Sorry Nonnie if you’re not even into this universe, I totally get it but I found fic to be a more enlightening method for exploring this. I wanna hear those thoughts of yours! Send them, I beg!

Greatest Fear

They got a bit existential as the weeks went on and their nights got more conscious. Ida and Bucky’s minds grew restless in the cold now that their bodies were healing. Huddled in their bunk they had debated baseball vs football endlessly, and argued regarding the accuracy of each other’s training anecdotes, the morality of mobsters and who was the better boxer: Braddock or Baer.

They’d ended up talking of the war, and both being sick of the dead end that the question of the future brought, they circled back around more concrete -if troublesome- thoughts. Most hairy landings, worst sounds either heard from their crew over the radio and what flashed across their minds when they had to finally press that abandon ship control.

And finally, Bucky ended up asking her what her worst fear was. And when Ida didn’t have it readily to hand -too used to suppressing any such thoughts even to her own self- he clarified: “Besides dying, I mean. If you’re even scared of that. Knowin’ you, maybe you aren’t.”

“I’d rather not.” she admitted.

“So? So what gets you scared?”

“This your way of fishing for another ghost story?” Ida teased.

“No. Just feels like sometimes you gotta remind yourself what it’s all about. Scared of dyin’ means you like livin’ enough to rather not stop. That sorta thing.”

“You’re saying love for one thing drives fear for another.” She summarized.

“Dunno. Just mullin’ it over.”

“I’d go through anything not to lose John.” she conceded, “Funny enough I’m positive he feels the same, so what a snarl.”

“I know he does.”

“Yeah.”

“If they put a gun to Buck’s head I’d tell ‘em Roosevelt's address and his favorite drink order, too.” Bucky expounded, tongue loosened by her tiny admission of frailty. “And he’d hate me for it.”

“All different kinds of loves out there.” Ida murmured consolingly, thinking hard on how her brother had been in a rage at her condition when he first saw her, and yet one of his first questions was whether she’d given anything up. Her Johnny knew she couldn’t live with herself if she had and he wouldn't've wanted her to. And nothing about that struck her as cold. Just as Bucky’s dangerous devotion to Gale didn’t strike her as weak. Just different.

“I saw a train.” Bucky began a thought but his voice died out with such finality Ida wondered if he’d ever pick the subject up again. But after a long moment he did, with some far away quality present in his voice that she’d never heard before, “On the way here. We were on one set of tracks and it was comin’ up the other.”

Ida had memories of trains, a lot of them. Going south all alone, first trip down to the uncle and aunts during the worst year of the depression. Old enough to know her own folks couldn’t support her, old enough to question how a ticket could be arranged but not supper. There had been trains that took her to training in Texas, then on to Iowa and Nebraska. Trains that took her deeper into Germany. One entire train car just for herself and too many German soldiers. Then the train that took them away from Ravensbruck. Ida felt an unsettled anticipation around trains that the peaceful rightness of flight had never caused her.

When Bucky mentioned trains and didn’t go on, Ida folded her hand into his huge one and squeezed it tightly. “What about those trains, John?”

“Heard ‘em before we saw ‘em.” he clarified, nodding his head conversationally as he was want to do, like he was gaining momentum towards a hard saying. Ida braced herself, squeezed just a little harder. “Not the engines, the screams. Car after car, and nothin’ but arms and faces reachin’ out. Screaming.”

Bucky’s bruised eyes were fixed, downcast gaze somewhere in the vicinity of her throat, but Ida knew he was seeing something far away. “I think I saw where they take them.” she muttered before she even had time to weigh her contribution to this horrid tale.

His eyes focused again and he looked at her with silent inquiry. “They took us to a labor camp first. Before here. Apparently one of the nicer ones, they had intentions of treating us as civilians.” Ida had been preoccupied with her aching body and her sharp terror of failure while at Ravensbruck, but not so much as to not notice the haunting vestiges of humanity answering roll beside her. “I felt like I was in Hades, the cold hell. Where the living damned can peruse each special misery waiting for them when they die. Called it a labor camp but I don’t know how skeletons like that could produce anything. Last bits of human resilience used to put together some industry to keep their oppressors fed, equipped. What an end.”

“Scares me shitless.” Bucky replied vehemently, and Ida realized they’d gotten full circle in their talk, that he’d dragged more out of her than she ever intended. Somehow neither his statement of fear nor her own felt weak in the moment. “That folks could get so hard they could do that to each other -I don’t know what to do with that, Ida. How’s it get to that point. Why’ve you got Fritz and then you’ve got…that? Same country, same sauerkraut, same uniforms. Scares me shitless.”

MOTA taglist, I only have one so ignore if this is not the universe you signed up for:

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

@taestrwbrry

@storysimp

@javden

@sexualparkour

@jointherebellion215

@sunny747

@ask-you-what-sir

@xxanaduwrites

@pretty4u

@yorkshirekiwi

@waitedforlove743

@elvismylove04

@blikebarbie92

@luminouslywriting

@euryno-j47

@justheretoreadthhx

@bookotter01

@mads-weasley

@ka-ski

@darkestbeforethedawn16

@slowsweetlove

@richardslady121

@barbeygirl

@prfctplcsreads

@vaf24

@harrys-housewife

@claireelizabeth85

@pearlparty

@piastrinho

[arolesbianism]

Trembles like a small dog. Places down my loopified euphrasie design before skittering away

[lilas]

Piera, voidsent avatar

—

Okuri Chochin Minion

A small lantern, possessed by a spirit that wished to physically travel alongside her companion.

The voidsent Piera is adept at possessing material objects.

—

an oc lore post for Avi’li Sostomi

Piera is a native of the 13th

When Avi’li was recruited by the Lemures, his morbid curiosity about the process of becoming a Reaper led him forging a pact with a being of the Void; the being he met was Piera

When they met she was weak and resentful, but accepted her lot as it was simply the way of the Void to find yourself in the service of another if you are too weak to stand on your own

However, Avi’li is kind and his aether sweet and dense; powerful

Genuine trust and friendship grew between them, and eventually Piera became strong enough to exert her will and possess physical objects such as a paper lantern to better spend time with Avi’li

Piera’s voidsent abilities are used to power both Avi’li’s RPR and DRK skills

After Avi’li’s ego death in Shadowbringers, Fray and Myste were reconciled and rejoined Avi’li’s psyche; though still capable of utilizing most of techniques taught by Sid, the dark root of a Dark Knight’s power was limited for Avi’li

Piera supplements Avi’li’s Dark Knight training with her own darkness tinged aether, as well as acting as his avatar companion when he wields a scythe

Piera is able to possess and manifest as physical objects, and she manifests as weapons to aid Avi’li in battle as a Dark Knight or Reaper

Meeting for the first time…

When Avi’li entered the voidgate, Piera accompanied him in her monstrous greatsword form

But when they stepped through the gate, she appeared different in the Void

Instead of the monstrous boney visage she was used to, she found herself in a body she had forgotten long ago; she looked like herself

Feeding on Avi’li’s aether had ebbed away the corrupting oppressive darkness

What is Piera like?

Centuries in the Void have jaded her to the workings of society; she believes that it’s dog eat dog and distrusts and belittles altruistic motivations

Against her better judgement she trusts Avi’li; it was hard won trust born from battle and travel

She is covetous and protective; she hates when Avi’li is physically in the Void, territorial of this wellspring of aether that helped her grow strong

As such, she regards voidsent that approach as competition and handles them with extreme prejudice; she did not like Zero at first, though she came around to a cool tolerance

Piera often follows Avi’li as a paper lantern

Have a full body pic of her because her outfit is cute:

[teethbomb]

It’s hip to be square