#but there were a few times i found myself without a working fan. so i turned to his music to act as white noise instead.

[orcelito]

Ok so I was wondering like

Top 0.005% of listeners. That's Pretty Damn Small. But I was wondering Just how small...

357.1k monthly listeners

0.005% of 357.1k is... just under 18...

Guys. I'm within the top 20 listeners for IAMX. Period. 🫣

[landosjpg]

fall back together | ln

the one where your ex-boyfriend invites you to spend a few days with him, but you two still have feelings for each other.

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: pining, the tiniest bit of fluff i believe, language, smut, oral (f recieving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cockwarming

note: ehhh i don't really know how to feel about this but i wanted to post something, once again not proofread! also i have a looooong flight later this week so pls send in some requests so i can entertain myself during it! <3

you and lando had dated for a little over two years when you decided to call it quits. it wasn't messy; you two had mutually decided to stay as friends. and for the few months that you had been just that, it had worked well so far.

that's why lando had decided to invite you over for the monaco grand prix, insisting that you should spend a few days prior with him so you two could catch up and spend some time together.

as friends, of course.

it took him a few days to convince you, but you finally agreed. and that's why you found yourself walking down the corridor that led to his apartment, suitcase in hand. you could hear his giggles already from the other side of the hall, the sound bringing a smile to your face.

as you opened the door with the keys that he had insisted you should keep after breaking up, for emergencies (even when you lived in a total different country), you heard him talking.

"hey, chat!" you heard him say. you should've guessed he would use his days at home to stream like he used to. "guess who's here!"

you smiled as you walked to the room he was in. the fans had always loved you; you saw the edits they made of your relationship, how everyone used to lose their minds over the way you two looked at each other when you decided to make an appearance on one of his streams.

utterly in love.

and of course, you saw how everyone couldn't believe it when he had announced the end of your relationship.

it's not like any of you had expected it either, but you knew it was for the best or the relationship would consume one of you. but you were happy you had managed to make a friendship work, not really wanting to lose lando. and of course, his fans were excited to see you again.

he turned his chair around as you entered the room, his smile widening as soon as he saw you. you walked his way, happily waving at the camera. normally, he would grab your waist and pull you into his lap.

but this time he didn't.

so you stood there, right next to his chair. and as much as you knew that was how things were, it didn't fell completely right to you.

"i think i'm gonna head to bed," you interrupted after a few minutes in which you talked with him and with the viewers, answering a few questions just like you used to do before everything went down.

but after a long flight and a taxi ride to his house, you felt exhausted and all you wanted was to lie down and call it a day.

lando reached to mute his mic before he could answer you, turning to look at your face as he spoke.

"take my bed, i'll sleep in the spare room," he said. you were certain that the fans would try to decipher what you were saying later, but you didn't really care.

you thought about what he was proposing. it would feel weird, sleeping in his bed without him, so you weren't really convinced about it. and he must had seen it in your face, because before you could say anything, he added:

"come on, y/n". you're tired and the spare bed isn't even made," he looked at you with soft, pleading eyes.

you knew he still wanted the best for you, so you sighed in defeat and accepted his offer with a nod of your head.

after saying goodbye to the chat, you left the room to get ready for bed. as you went through your daily night routine in the bathroom, you noticed how everything you had left there behore the break-up was still in its place.

it looked like you had never left.

you tried not to think too much about it, there could be multiple reasons why he had decided to keep all your stuff. he definitely had moved on, right? it had been months since you two ended things.

you brushed it off, not really wanting it to get to your head and then walked to his room. everything was just like you remembered. damn, he even kept some pictures of you on his wall.

with your pajamas on, you climbed into his bed and covered your body with the soft sheets, the smell of him quickly washing all over you.

you rolled around with a sigh, the bed feeling way too big now that he wasn't next to you to wrap hismself around you. you were unable to sleep as your mind filled with all the nights spent in that exact same mattress between laughs, kisses and endless conversations.

you missed the feeling of his arms around your waist, the sound of his snores and the warmth of his body enveloping you every night.

with your mind racing with all the memories that wouldn't leave your brain, you realized it had been hours since you got in bed when you checked the time on your phone. the house was completely silent by that moment, so you figured lando was already asleep.

you sighed and got up, wandering to the kitchen silentely to not wake him up, with the intention of making yourself a tea that would hopefully help you sleep.

୨୧

sat on the counter, you contemplated the city lights with a warm mug of tea in your hands. the only light that illuminated the kitchen was te one that came out of your room. lando's room.

you were lost in your own thoughts, so you didn't notice his figure walking towards you.

"is that seat taken?" his voice made you jump a little in surprise, swearing under your breath as you turned to look at him, simply shaking your head in response. "sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he added with a chuckle, sitting on the stool right next to you.

you didn't really know what to say, so silence fell between you two while you just stared at each other. despite of it being dark, you could appreciate his messy curls, the spark on his eyes and the sly smile that beautifully decorated his lips.

"can't slep?" his voice was low and tender as he brokw the silence.

"bed feels too big."

at your answer, he just nodded. he kept quiet for a few seconds, pensive, and you could see that he was wondering wheter what he was about to say was appropriate or not.

"you know, as much as it hurts... i'm happy that you're moving on," he finally broke the silence, his words hitting you like a truck.

"i'm not... what do you mean?" you asked in confussion, but your mind was more focused on the fact that the possibility of you moving on hurt him.

"i've seen the pictures."

despite of the sadness that his whisper hid, you knew he wasn't mad at you. he had always said that he wanted you to be happy, whether it was with or without him.

silly of him to think that anyone else could ever make you as happy as he once did.

"just a friend," you mumbled, knowing that he was talking about the guy in your latest posts. but he was nothing more than a friend to you, not even close. "not really my type," you joked, earning a little smile from his lips.

once again, the silence felt deafening as he didn't give you an answer. your nerves were starting to kick in and so, in an attempt to try and make it feel less awkward between you two, you gazed back to the window.

"do you ever miss me?" he whispered again seconds later, the simple question making you freeze.

the answer was easy: yes, like crazy. but you couldn't just say that.

as he waited for you to reply, you felt his eyes on you, curious about what you would answer. and you swore he could hear your heart racing in your chest.

"sometimes, yeah," you finally decided to give him the truth.

or part of it, because confessing that it hadn't been a day in which he didn't cross your mind at least twice a day made you feel too exposed and vulnerable.

you halted when you felt his hand creeping up your legs slowly, stopping when he reached your thigh.

"i miss you, too," his murmur sent you a shiver down your spine, and he was looking up at you from where he was sitting, with puppy eyes.

you knew damn well what those words meant, and you felt your heart breaking at your own answer.

" i don't think it's a good idea, lan," you murmured, not able to hold his gaze for long.

"i know", he uttered, and you felt him sigh, but his hand stayed in your leg. "i'm sorry."

when you heard his simple apology, you closed yout eyes and tried to keep your tears from falling down your cheeks, but you failed miserably.

you knew he was apologizing for not being his best self during the last weeks of your relationship. at first, you had tried to convince yourself it only was a rough patch, but it was burning you down.

and, when you asked him for some time, he agreed. he knew he hadn't been the best boyfriend to you during that time, and he hated seeing you suffer because of him. so he ultimately decided to set you free.

"i'll never take you for granted again," he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears that fell down your face.

you hadn't noticed that he had stoop up from the stool and positioned himself between your legs, but having him so close again made your heart feel warm. and you looked down, knowing that if your eyes met his green orbits you'd throw yourself back right into his arms.

"lan..."

"i swear, y/n," he interrupted you; you could see his eyes were also watery, tears threatening to come out as well, but he held them back as he kept talking. "i know i fucked up, but it won't happen again."

closing your eyes, you sighed. your fingers softly wrapped around his wrist as you kept silently crying.

"please," his whisper made you sob, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and never let go of him. "i promise."

as you took in his words, your hand slid to his neck and he rested his forehead against yours. your breaths were mixing together and you nodded your head slightly, giving him your final answer with that small gesture.

before you could think about it, his lips were on yours. soft, just as you remembered, and you could taste both your tears on his lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if he didn't want you to slip out of his fingers again.

and you knew he didn't.

"i've missed this," he sighed in between kisses, pulling you a little closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist. "i've missed you, baby."

at the sweet pet name that you never thought you'd be hearing from his lips again, you exhaled with a smile.

"want to join me in bed?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers softly brushing against the skin of his neck. you wanted nothing more than to sleep next to him again, so close that one would think you two were literally attached at the hip.

"you're inviting me to my bed?" he chuckled as his arms went lower on your body, pulling you closer and picking you up from the counter.

"our bed," you corrected him with a giggle of your own.

he planted a soft kiss on your lips and walked you back to his room, wrapped in his arms. he lied you down on the mattress gently, keeping his body over yours. your gazes locked for a few seconds before his lips attacked yours hungrily, the tenderness of the previous interactions now long gone.

your hands roamed all over each other's bodies, clothes soon flying everywhere as both your breaths got heavier.

he started trailing small, wet kisses down your breasts and torso, his hands carefully pulling your underwear down your legs. he spread your open for him and positioned himself between your thighs, looking up at you from the edge of the bed.

you slightly nodded, giving him permission to go on. a long sigh left your lips as soon as you felt his lips pressing a soft kiss on your sensitive bud, and your fingers instinctively got lost in his curls, urging him closer.

"you're so gorgeous, baby," he mumbled, his hot breath against your slick making you moan softly.

you felt his tongue flatten against you and he started licking your cunt as if he was starving. a smug expression plastered on his face when your back arched as his lips found your clit again and he sucked, fingers tugging on his hair.

"fuck, lando..." you stuttered, your legs closing around his head as you felt the knot on your lower stomach about to snap. a small groan escaped his lips, his hands gripping around your thighs, surely leaving small bruises on your smooth skin.

soon, the warmth of his tongue on your pussy felt too overwhelming and your orgasm didn't take long to wash over you, leaving you a moaning mess under his touch.

as you came down from your climax, he got rid of his boxers and hovered over you again, his lips finding yours once more. as you tasted yourself on his tongue, you hummed contently into the kiss, your fingers finding their wait to his curls again.

"you alright, love?" he gently asked, taking a minute to look into your eyes.

"need you inside of me," you panted, your legs hooking at each side of his body as you pulled him closer.

he locked his lips with yours as he teased your folds with his cock, both of you moaning into the other's mouth at the friction. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you, letting you adjust to his size.

"so fucking tight for me, baby," his voice sounded breathless as he started thrusting into you without a hurry.

he took it slow, his movements almost lazy but deep.

and god, did it feel good.

you held each other tightly as he kept that slow pace that you two seemed to be enjoying. he reveled in the way your sweet moans filled the room and your nails drew crescent moons on his shoulders, your face contorting in pleasure as he stretched you out deliciously.

feeling your second orgasm starting to build up, your pussy clamped down on him, drawing him even deeper inside of you; which resulted in a low grunt from his lips.

"baby, i'm gonna... fuck..." you whimpered, unable to even form a proper sentence as the pressure in your lower stomach increased again.

"look at me, love," he groaned, and you did as he had asked.

with your gazes locked in each other's, it only took the two of you a few strokes to come undone, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him cumming inside of you and leaving you weak under his body.

he collapsed on top of you, a little winded as he left a sweet kiss on your lips before moving to lay down on the mattres, pulling you with him.

"i love you," he uttered, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as he kept his cock buried deep inside of you.

"i love you, lan," you mumbled, your face finding the spot between his jaw and his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling yourself slowly drifting off to sleep with your nose nuzzled on his neck.

[lecsainz]

monegasque charm

pairings: arthur leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: arthur making stupid pick-up lines, jokes between the leclerc brothers.

authors note: i strongly believe that arthur should make this kind of joke with his girlfriend and the leclerc brothers teasing each other, omg i love this family!

word count: 1K

Y/N and her friends had been looking forward to the Monaco Grand Prix for months. They had saved up their money, booked their tickets, and packed their bags with excitement and anticipation. But as they approached the circuit, their excitement turned to frustration as they found themselves stuck in a long queue of cars, barely moving at all.

"Can you believe this?" Y/N groaned, leaning her head against the car window. "We're going to miss the whole race at this rate."

Her friends nodded in agreement, muttering under their breath about the terrible traffic and the incompetence of the organizers. But Y/N couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. This was supposed to be the highlight of their trip, and now it seemed like they might not even make it to the circuit in time.

As they sat there, bored and frustrated, Y/N noticed a group of guys in the car behind them. They were laughing and joking, seemingly undisturbed by the traffic. And then she noticed one of them in particular - a boy with light hair and bright blue eyes, who winked and smiled at her when he realized she was watching him.

"Who are they?" Y/N asked her friends, nodding towards the car behind them.

"I don't know," one of her friends shrugged. "But they're cute."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny that the boy with the blue eyes was kind of adorable. And as the traffic continued to crawl along, she found herself stealing glances at him, wondering who he was and why he seemed so familiar.

It wasn't until they finally reached the circuit that Y/N realized who the boy was - Arthur, the younger brother of Charles Leclerc, her favorite F1 driver. Suddenly everything made sense - the blue eyes, the mischievous smile, the effortless charm.

As they were making their way through the crowds, Y/N felt someone bump into her from behind. She turned around to see Arthur standing there, a look of surprise on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" he said, flashing her a smile. "I didn't mean to bump into you like that."

Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart rate pick up at the sight of him. "It's okay," she replied. "We're all a little crowded here."

As they moved forward, Y/N couldn't help but notice that Arthur was wearing a shirt with the logo of his brother's F1 team. And when he caught sight of the number on her own shirt - Charles' racing number - his eyes widened in recognition.

"Hey, I like your shirt," he said, gesturing to the number. “16 is a great number, isn't it?”

Y/N felt a flush rise to her cheeks as she realized that she had been wearing Charles' number all day without even knowing that his brothers were nearby. "Oh, wow," she said. "I'm a huge fan of his."

Arthur grinned. "Yeah, me too. He's pretty amazing, isn't he?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a sudden wave of shyness wash over her. But as they chatted more, she found herself warming up to Arthur's easy charm and infectious enthusiasm.

"So, are you into racing too?" she asked, curious about the young Leclerc's own ambitions.

Arthur's face lit up. "Yeah, actually. I'm a driver myself - I compete in F2."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That's amazing. You must be really talented."

Arthur shrugged modestly. "I like to think so. But it's tough out there, you know? It takes a lot of hard work and dedication to make it in this sport."

Y/N nodded sympathetically, feeling a sudden kinship with the young driver.

As they walked towards the grandstands, Arthur couldn't resist making a few cheesy jokes and silly pick-up lines, trying to make Y/N laugh.

"Are you a parking ticket?" he asked with a grin. "Because you've got 'fine' written all over you."

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at the corny line, but she found herself giggling anyway.

Before they knew it, was time for Arthur to go and find his brothers before the race started. As they said their goodbyes, Arthur pulled out his phone and asked for Y/N's number.

"I'll text you later, Y/N. Maybe we can grab a drink or something?" he said with a smile.

Y/N nodded eagerly, feeling a spark of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

Arthur hurried to find his brothers, Lorenzo and Charles. As soon as he saw them, he excitedly recounted his encounter with Y/N and how they had hit it off in the queue.

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "You're telling us about a girl you just met in line? I hope you're not neglecting your training for F2."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course not, but a little distraction never hurt anyone. And besides, Y/N is really cool.”

Charles chimed in, a smile on his face."Well, well, well, look who's got a crush,”nudging Arthur in the ribs.

"You should ask her out," Lorenzo suggested.

Arthur's eyes widened. "What? No way. I barely know her."

Charles snorted. "That's never stopped you before."

Arthur blushed, but nodded in agreement. "I already got her number. And I'm planning on taking her out to dinner next week."

Lorenzo smirked. "Look at you, little brother, all grown up and making moves. Just don't let it affect your racing, okay?"

Arthur laughed, feeling grateful for his brothers' support.

Later that night, as Y/N and her friends were out at a bar celebrating the end of the race, her phone buzzed with a message from Arthur.

"Hey, it's Arthur 😉 I had a great time hanging out with you today. Want to meet up tomorrow?"

Y/N's heart raced as she replied, "Sure! How about we grab lunch at that cute café we saw earlier?"

As the week in Monaco came to an end, Y/N felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving Arthur behind. But as they hugged goodbye, Arthur promised to stay in touch and even invited her to come watch him race in the F2 later that year.

And as Y/N made her way back home, she couldn't help but smile at the memory of the handsome Monegasque boy who had swept her off her feet.

[sunshine-theseus]

Fools | Kyra Cooney-Cross x ND!Reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: no one understood your mind, until you met Kyra.

Notes: Guys I have no knowledge of how Emirates is laid out, how meeting players off the pitch works etc, so I’m completely making this shit up I’m sorry. also sorry for the super long introduction, and the shit writing, I haven’t written in months.

Warnings: mentions of abuse - not proofread. i'm so sorry if this is so shit i genuinely haven't written in months. i wanted this one to be good so bad but i just don't think it is

the person who requested this has since deactivated so i actually feel so bad that i didn't get this out while they were on here. i'm genuinely so sorry for the past like 6 months.

I always struggled with social interactions. I didn’t understand it for a long time, why I always had to smile and hug people, why I had to lie about certain things like how I thought my aunt’s bright green hat looked, why I couldn’t ramble about Star Wars or the new penguin facts I just learned.

Then there were the sounds, and lights and the way things felt. Everything had to be specific, or I couldn’t focus. Sometimes if it was bad enough that I would have a breakdown, unable to do anything. My parents tried to scold it out of me when as a kid I couldn’t eat certain foods or wear the clothes they wanted. Sometimes if they deemed it worthy, I’d be met with the flesh of a palm against my cheek or bottom.

-

When I was 12, I presented the idea that maybe I was autistic to my parents. I’d researched it at school for a social emotional learning class we had to take, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities I found within myself. If I think about it hard enough, I can feel every burning outline of the dark red hand marks that bloomed on my skin hours after the interaction, and the burning of my eyes as my stomach rumbled, drowned out by the music rumbling through my headphones.

-

At 17 I emancipated from my parents and moved to North Watford, renting out a small studio apartment above a record shop. I completed my final year of high school, working part time in the store, building a much-desired routine. The man that owned the shop and my apartment, and his young daughter, were migrants from Cuba, and more than happy to accommodate to my needs. They even chipped in to help me pay for my autism screening after I graduated high school.

I think they were the first people I willingly hugged ever.

I stopped masking when I moved, so the daughter, Elena; 5, took a few months to understand why I didn’t like touch or loud noises and why I didn’t understand some of the jokes she said that others usually laughed at. Not that I’d had the diagnosis at that time, but she was happy to just spend time with me. Every afternoon when I came back from school and started my shift, she’d beg me for more penguin facts, asking which was my favourite penguin. In return she’d spend the 2-hour shift drawing me something, usually a penguin, to pin on my corkboard at home.

I’d then help with her homework while Camilo closed shop and posted any online orders. It was a routine I cherished deeply.

-

Now, 3 and a bit years later at 21 years old, they managed to drag me to a football game. Equipped with headphones and a couple small sensory toys, as well as a hoodie under the “Miedema” jersey, the material of which originally had me tugging and prying the shirt away from my skin.

Elena and Camilo had been big fans of Arsenal for as long as I’d known them, going to every home game, begging me to join them every week without fail. I finally caved during a break in my uni courses, with nothing to do and Elena’s birthday falling on the day of a game, there was no other choice.

The newly 9-year-old basically imploded when she saw my printed ticket stub, tucked tightly into her birthday card. I gently ruffled her hair, which had become my version of hugging her, and showed her the 3 matching red and white #11 jerseys I purchased not long ago. She’d talked a lot about this Vivianne Miedema and how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, but she’d never gotten a jersey, or seats on the bottom tier. Today was the day.

~

“Come ooonnn I want to get to our seats!” the pinky of her left hand links with my right one as her other hand is holding her dad’s, and she’s dragging us down the lane toward the entrance.

“Slow down Pollito! We have 20 more minutes until we need to be seated.” My special schedule for the day runs through my head as I check my watch. Plenty of time as long as the crowd keeps flowing.

“I wish you didn’t learn Spanish. It’s such a silly nickname.”

“But you’re my little chicken.” I send a joking frown her way and she replies with a toothless grin.

With the abrupt end to the conversation, we arrive at the gate. Showing the stewardess our tickets to be scanned, we then head toward our seats. As Camilo and I take our seats at the very front, instead of make way to their usual seats a tier up, Elena stops and looks back and forth between us.

“There’s no way you got us these seats.” Without a word I pull the girl in between us and she begins to ramble about how excited she is to be able to see the game so close, still able to be clearly heard through my headphones I manage to slip over my ears.

~

The game is drawn 1-1 just after half time, but Arsenal is close to having the upper hand. From across the pitch, Elena spots the tall and lanky number 11, Vivianne Miedema, pulling off her fluoro yellow bib and warm up shirt and lining up next to number 32 behind the fourth official who is prepping her sign. With a couple of whacks to my arm and an aggressive point of her finger, Elena makes me and Camilo very aware of the impending entrance of her favourite player, and another really attractive girl who is very obviously wearing her socks on the wrong feet. The thought makes me squirm but a shot on goal quickly manages to take my focus.

“Who’s the one coming on with Viv? You’ve never told me about number 32.” It’s hard to take my eyes off the girl as she jumps from one foot to the other, anticipating her entrance.

“Oh that’s Kyra Cooney-Cross! She’s Australian, she transferred at the start of the season. Jonas should play her more.” I acknowledge her words with a hum and a nod before we join in cheering Viv and Kyra on.

My eyes are glued to Kyra the rest of the game. Without any knowledge of how football works, I’m left to assume she’s good with the way she dances around players and passes the ball. It was weird, but her movement was so free flowing it would not be atrocious to confuse her with a ballerina. Elegant and calculated, no hesitation.

~

“Where are we going?” my pinky is once again linked with Elena’s as I drag her and Camilo through Emirates.

“Papa where is she going? The exit is that way.”

“I have no clue chica, but I suppose we should trust her aye?” with that, the father-daughter duo track behind me.

Eventually I stop just where the opening of the tunnel leads out on to the pitch and show a lady the pass I’d been carrying around all day. She smiles and begins walking down the tunnel, waving behind her as a sign for us to follow.

“What’s going on?” Elena asks once again, but I just follow the lady onto the pitch, where multiple members of the Arsenal squad are now loitering around, obviously waiting for something, or someone. At the front of the group is Viv, and when she spots the small girl behind me her eyes light up.

“Hi! You must be Elena. We’ve heard a lot about you!” she sends the girl a smile, but Elena doesn’t make any move to continue the conversation. My head whips to her and I nearly have to laugh from how adorable she is. Her jaw has dropped open and her eyes are welling up with tears, so I ruffle her hair and bend down to her height, removing my headphones.

“What’s up buttercup?” I lightly tap her head.

“That’s really her.” she whispers to me, her eyes not leaving the Dutch woman, who lets out a chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

“How?” I tap the side of my nose at her question indicating it’s to be left a secret.

“Can I have a hug?” Viv kneels on one knee and opens her arms and Elena suddenly breaks lose from her trance and runs up to her hero.

“It’s nice to meet you liefje, I hear you’ve been a fan for a long time. And today’s your birthday. How old are you turning?”

“Nine!”

“Oh wow, you’re growing up!”

“I know, but Y/N still calls me Pollito. I’m not a little chicken.” Everyone looking on bursts out laughing as Elena frowns, and while I join them, the loud sound simply reminds me of the lack of protection on my ears.

~

Elena gets whisked off to talk and play around with Viv and some of the other girls, who seem to all have taken a genuine liking to the young girl, Camilo following to watch over them. I stand firmly on the sidelines, fidgeting with an infinity cube and trying to forget the sudden scratching of my hoodie’s tag on the back of my neck and the tightness of my socks, when a now familiar face pops in front of me.

I don’t notice her at first, my eyes are closed and I’m trying breathing patterns in hopes that the overstimulating sensations with dissipate. It’s only when I open my eyes to check on Elena that I get the shock of my life. Number 32 is just standing in front of me, staring, waiting for me to notice her. no less than a minute ago she’d been spinning Elena around and laughing with her, which I’d found alarmingly adorable, how’d she get here so fast?

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and waves, and I realise she must think I can’t hear her with my headphones on, which many people tend to ignore. Wow she’s much prettier up close.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I return her smile, but don’t make any move to remove the headphones.

“I’m Kyra.” Her voice is muffled but her accent is incredible and like music to my ears.

“You played really well today.” Is she blushing? Red creeps up her neck and finds home on her round cheeks as she smiles brightly.

“Ah thanks, I try to give it my all. Hoping to prove I deserve more game time.”

“You don’t get played often?” another chuckle passes her lips and I feel my stomach tighten.

“Uh no. I take it you’re not a big football fan?”

“What gives you that idea.”

“Well rocking up to an Arsenal game with blue nails for a start.” I cock my head to the side and give her a confused look. I did a lot of research for today, there was no room for me to mess up.

“Chelsea, our biggest rivals, their colour is blue. It’s basically forbidden for an arsenal fan to wear blue to a game. Trust me, I learnt the hard way.”

I’m quick to hide my hands in the pocket at the front of my hoodie, fidgeting with my nails. How did I manage to fuck that up?

“You don’t really have to worry, just maybe keep it in mind if you ever come to another game. I hope you do by the way.” She flashes me a smile that makes me feel warm and I can’t help myself.

“You’re very pretty.” She’s about to reply when I glance down and notice her socks are still wrong.

“And I’m not sure if you know but your socks are on the wrong feet.” It’s quiet for a moment and I’m not sure if my common candour has once again overstepped. I can’t even open my mouth to apologise before she giggles.

“I knew there was something wrong. I keep doing it but no one tells me until after the game… and you’re quite beautiful yourself. If you don’t mind me saying.” My eyes continue to avoid her face as I bounce on the balls of my feet and try to refrain from shaking my hands, my most common stim.

“Thank you.”

We’re silent for a minute or so, which I don’t mind now that I’m more familiar with her. I continue to watch Elena and Camilo, who are now playing in a 5v5, Viv carrying the girl halfway down their makeshift pitch before helping her kick the ball. When her laughs echo through the stadium, joy breaking through her screams and from the yells of her dad who is playing a rather poor referee, I’m reminded of how much I love this family. I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Your sister is very adorable.” I glance to my side where Kyra now resides and contemplate telling her she isn’t my sister, but the words get stuck in my throat. If I were to say they weren’t my family after all they’ve done for me, then I’d be lying.

“Yeah. She’s basically my whole life.”

“Hey can I ask about the headphones? I mean you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want but-“

“I’m autistic. Struggle really bad with sound and other stimulants. I wear headphones to dampen sounds, especially in public. And stadiums are full of sounds.” My palms sweat a little and my breath is laboured for a moment. This is usually the part where people decide I’m a freak and never talk to me again.

“Oh cool. I totally get that, the sound thing.” That warm feeling returns. She doesn’t question anything, she just agrees.

~

Eventually the meet and greet had to end, but I manage to get a few of the girl’s numbers, including number 32’s. Something I hadn’t expected was that the team would love Elena so much that they wanted to organise season tickets and some more passes to meet up after home games. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself as the young girl rambled about how amazing it was to get to hang out with her idols, and the prospect of seeing them again.

~

Uni starts back up the following week, so I don’t join the two for a game for quite a while. Despite that, I find myself texting Kyra most days, a good morning and goodnight routine quickly being established. We ask each other questions about each other. ‘What did you want to be if football didn’t work out?’ ‘What made you want to study your course?’ ‘what’s your favourite thing about Australia?’.

She liked to ask me about parts of my autism every now and then. She wanted to know what things to avoid, what topics made me ramble for ages, safe foods. The only other people who had ever cared this much were Elena and Camilo. The two of which had definitely taken note of how happy I’d grown since the game.

“Who are you talking to Angelito? You haven’t smiled this big in a long time.” Camilo takes a seat beside me behind the desk of the store

There is no need to hide the blossoming relationship from him, so I turn my screen to show the messages between Kyra and I, a bold ‘No. 32’ under a very weird but unmistakable picture of the girl. He hums and smiles, lightly nudging our shoulders together.

“She likes you.”

“Pft no she doesn’t.”

“‘you’re so cute.’ ‘I really like you.’ ‘I’ll save that for when I take you on a date.’ With a winky face emoji. She literally admits she likes you. Twice.”

“I thought that was that flirty thing people do with their friends.”

“I know when people like each other.”

“How Milo?”

“I have a gift.”

“A gift hmm?” he just smiles widely down at me before taking my phone again. He begins to type something.

“What are you writing Milo? Milo!” I glance over his shoulder.

‘I really like you and would like to go on a date if you’re free.’ I’m about to scold him but three dots appear as Kyra begins typing.

“If this works you owe me an extra hour this week.”

“You are an evil schemer Camilo.” I say before squeezing his shoulder, a common sign of affection we’d developed.

‘I’d really like that. Tomorrow’s our day off if that works.’

I can’t help the squeal I let out as Camilo writes a response in confirmation.

“I’m going on a date.”

“You deserve this kiddo.”

~

Kyra and I agree on a dinner date at a restaurant I’d mentioned really enjoying a few months ago, that I hadn’t had a chance to visit since. I’d made the reservation, asking for the specific table I’d sat at the last time I came, and I’d already decided on what I was getting before I even hoped in the car to drive there.

I’d planned everything perfectly. The place, my outfit, what time I had to leave to arrive there 10 minutes before our agreed upon time. I hadn’t taken into account the car speeding through a red light and crashing into the car in the right lane beside me. Or the fact that due to the momentum I’d get caught between the 2 cars and the building on the corner of the street I was just about to turn down. No more than 15 metres from the restaurant but I’m trapped and the seatbelt is too tight and my head hurts. I’m crushed between my door and the centre console and all the sirens and ambulance lights approaching are too much and all I can do it cry.

If I could just reach my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat I could get my headphones to relieve some of the stimulation, but I can’t bend that way without my ribs screaming and whatever is poking my hip in my back making itself known.

I pray to every god I can name that I pass out, but no one hears as the jaws of life pry open my door. When were the other cars moved?

“Ma’am we have to cut you out. my colleague here is going to hold you up. Is that okay?” I don’t have any energy to say no, so I nod, waiting for some scissors to snip away at the seatbelt. Instead, I hear an electric saw whir to life.

“W- what’s the saw for?” my words are barely recognisable as they slur together.

“Ma’am everything is okay, just stay still for us okay?”

The sawing is over quicker than it begun, and the paramedics make an effort to move me as carefully as they can onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. I make no move to complain about how the neck brace is itchy and feels suffocating.

A minute passes and through the newly developed ringing in my ears, I hear someone calling my name. they sound so far away but when I open my eyes again, Kyra is standing above me, next to the paramedic who’s hooking me up to monitors,

“Do you know this lady ma’am?” she asks me as I stare up at the girl I was meant to be on a date with.

“Yeah she’s my girlfriend.” A voice in the back of my head is worried that maybe that will freak Kyra out, but I know they won’t let her ride with me if we don’t have some close connection and for some reason friend does not cross my mind.

They allow her to take the extra seat beside me and she loops her pinky with mine. She keeps glancing down toward my stomach and taking deep breaths as we make our way down the streets of London. I try to see what she’s looking at but the brace doesn’t allow me to look that far down.

“You’re going to be okay.” She whispers as they roll me out of the ambulance, and she manages to quickly kiss me before I’m gone from view.

~

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I wake up there is a sterile white light beaming down on me and I have to instantly close my eyes. I’m quick to take note of the horrible feeling of the hospital gown I definitely wasn’t in when I’d gone under.

“Papa! She’s awake!” I let out a groan at the yell but and quick to smile once the voice registers in my head.

“Pollito.” My voice is no more than a whisper, hoarse and dry.

“Hey Angelito. How are you feeling.”

“Horrible. The light’s too bright and the gown is so itchy.” Neither Elena nor Camilo leave my side, but the light is off within seconds.

“I more meant physically. You were hit pretty hard.” The screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber, the flashing lights, all rush back to me. So does the pain.

“Now that you mention it. What’s the damage?” it’s meant as a joke but I’m trying not to cry.

“3 broken ribs, 2 fractured, a torn vastus lateralis in your thigh, a lot of muscle damage in your back. It’s going to be a lot of physical therapy kiddo.” The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay, we’re going to be here the whole way. All of us.” By now I could know the voice in a crowd of people.

I turn my head and there she is. Kyra is sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats with her hand on top of mine.

“If it’s okay with you, Camilo, me and some of the arsenal girls are going to sort out a schedule to take turns helping you with PT. Viv was really hoping she could give some tips considering how long she spent doing PT.”

“That sounds perfect. But please tell me one of you has my pyjamas. I need to get out of this gown.”

~

There was no lie in how difficult rehab was. I had an hour appointment at the hospital every day and additional work at home that Milo, Kyra and some of the arsenal girls happily helped with. The hardest hurdle was amount of physical touch that was required. My physical therapist, Jordan, always made sure I knew when she needed to touch my leg or something, but that did very little to sooth the feeling that crawled beneath my skin. She was able to dim the fluorescent white lights and allowed me to wear my headphone which did help a small amount.

Kyra basically moved into my room above the shop. Milo insisted he could do all the work of getting me around the house and the shop, but we knew he couldn’t while maintaining the shop and looking after Elena. Elena tried her best to help by making me breakfast. She gathered pre-made versions of my safe breakfast food and carefully place them separately on a plate, with a glass of orange juice every morning. After the first week she realised I’d be in a wheelchair and struggling to move around much for much longer than she thought, so she quickly gave up on that idea and began making me penguin drawings at school.

I’d adapted to having Kyra around much quicker than I expected to. When I moved in at 17, it took me months to get used to the layout and the fact that I was alone, despite Camilo and Elena living in the house across the road. I adapted to Kyra’s presence within weeks.

After the second week we’d decided it was easier to share the bed rather than her sleeping on the couch, which had been the biggest change. I struggled with it the first few nights. I had a sleep routine that was already disrupted by the injuries, now I had to take another person into account. But she was so warm, and I felt so safe in her arms. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare about the crash, she grabbed me an iced tea and my headphones and would ramble about whatever interests she had recently developed or whatever was happening at training.

It was in the second month things took a more serious turn. Well serious for our relationship. I was sitting at the table chopping the vegetables for dinner while she begins cooking, when I took a minute to just look at her. The warm lighting softened her features, her quiet humming to whatever song was playing carried throughout the room, the smile that seemed to never leave her face sat perfectly on her lips as she listened to me ramble about the newly discovered yellow king penguin. She was so radiant and attentive, and she was never annoyed at me when I was overstimulated or wanted to infodump. She was seemingly unaffected by my rehab and most importantly unaffected by my autism. After a life full of negative interactions and losing people because of one thing I couldn’t control, I’d found a family and a partner who embraced me.

I didn’t realise I was crying until she turned and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just grateful.”

“For what?”

“You, Milo, Elena. I love you all so much.” I didn’t realise I’d said it really. I was just being candid, as I always was.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation even as it dawned on me.

“Well, I love you too.” There is a split second between the end of her sentence and the meeting of our lips in a kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask as we pull away.

“Wait- I thought- when you called me your girlfriend on the ambulance I kind of took that as you asking me to be your girlfriend.” She begins laughing.

“What? This whole time I’ve been nervous about actually asking you and you already thought I had?” I can’t help but join her laugh.

“We’re such fools.” She whispers, and we kiss again.

I'll always be a fool for her.

[grinnames]

HOW THE HECK DID THIS HAPPEN AND WHY ARE YOU ALL HERE

200+ followers.

We are over 200 followers strong already folks.

What do I even say?! Well I gotta say something, because it's been over a month since I hit this milestone, and I finally got all other ideas finished.

SO! Let's start with saying that I am incredibly and forever grateful and lucky that this has happened to me and that I get to do this online and that so many people enjoy my work. I've always been an outsider looking in, always the spectator, and never the performer. For so long, I have dreamed of finally being the person on the other side of the screen, making countless people smile and maybe even brighten up their day just a little bit. It feels like I've only just started making content on Tumblr SINCE LAST AUGUST, and I'm already having to write grandiose thank-you letters!

On a more serious note, I had been going through a rough time for the past few months, just a little after I started Tumblr. I had just transferred to a new school, and have had to leave all my friends behind for a second time. The transition period was hard, and I had never felt so lonely in a long while, but coming back online to see you interacting with my blog always brightened up my day. I've come to learn and accept that sometimes, online communities can be just as good as in-person communities, though it did take some getting used to!

Speaking of grandiose thank-you letters, let's get on to acknowledging some VIPs!

First, thank you everyone that has decided to hit the follow button, and for giving me a chance! It really feels validating, and motivated to continue working on and posting my story!

Also, I would like to thank God for gifting me with artistic talent and the drive to hone it at the tender age of five. He's given me so many opportunities to practice my craft, and He continues to give me more chances to use my gift for the happiness of others, and for myself. Without Him, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

@novajuniper! You know who you are to me. So I'm just here to remind everyone what you did. YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND IRL AND YOU ENCOURAGED ME TO START TUMBLR IN THE FIRST PLACE! You were also one of my first and only fans of my art for a very very long time. Everyone, let's give it up for the OG!!

@oppsiedoo! YOU. You were one of my first fans that gave me FANART! The first Godbox AU fanart came from you, and the first Grinnames fanart came from you! And then you kept giving me more! I'm honestly sometimes a little concerned with the amount of fanart you do for me and my work. Surely you have other creators you look up to?! But thanks for giving me that much support since the beginning when I was small! I felt so validated and seen!

@bow-and-aro-child and @smgx-pez! I always remember you because you were some of the first people to notice Godbox AU! Though we don't interact much, I very much appreciate that you stuck around! You two often appear as my top-fans on my Activities page!

Also @smgx-pez you were also one of my first reblogs. It was the one where you compared Rewrite Sonic to Godbox SMG4, and my stomach kinda dropped in a nervous but excited way! That thread where you found out I actually was inspired by Rewrite is something I will never forget because that's how I discovered that Tumblr was chill like that! Thanks for representing Tumblr!

@hexsie! You were also one of my first reblogs! I was so young and inexperienced on this platform and some stranger (you) sends me some OOC drawing of your OC hugging my boys... I have to admit I was very flattered but so stunned that I didn't know how to respond. Well, now here's the response! I now think that this interaction was hilarious! Thank you for being my introduction into the SMG4 community! Looking forward to that Hexsie lore!

(It's always been the Hug Saga, hasn't it...? From the very beginning...)

@smg6-the-memer! My first asker! You probably submitted the most asks to my ask box as well! That's how I remember you! I had actually not intended to start asks at the time, but the askbox was open by default, so I just went along with it because I HAD ALWAYS WANTED AN ASKBLOG. So thank you for being the push!

@supern0vashii! The infamous Starter of the Hug Saga! Also currently the Ender of the Hug Saga! (for now) We've come full circle! Honestly, Hug Saga was fun, and it's all thanks to you reaching out to me! You also started the Godboxified OC trend with SMG6... you really be out there trailblazing! I've always enjoyed redesigning my OCs to fit AUs... so to have people doing the same for MY AU?! IT FEELS SO AMAZING! Thank you!

@bear-boi-5! My first mutual that isn't @novajuniper! (she doesn't count because I met her IRL before tumblr) When you followed me back you have no idea how shocked and excited I was. I'm not really interested in the fandoms you draw for now, I mostly followed you for your amazing SMG4 au art (Monster Containment AU is my favorite! It's what got me to follow you!) but I'm sticking around because of the sentiment and I also like your vibes!

@michaelscorneroftheinternet! Holy hell. You are one of the creators that I really look up to! Your art-style is just so yummy! So I kind of, may have, freaked out when you joined the Godboxified OC trend AND followed me back! ON TOP OF THAT, YOU SAID I'M ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE CREATORS TOO?! I nearly died from all the happiness rushing up to my head! Not to mention, I really love your energy whenever you reblog stuff! It's rather infectious! Keep up the good work!

@libbytwq! I also look up to you! We may not have interacted much, but I am honored that you follow me back! I really enjoy watching SMGL:e's silly little adventures and interactions with other OCs! So much so that I was inspired by you to later publish some lore about my own OC Grinnames herself! I'm looking forward to some more delicious lore-drops in the future!

@purpdrawsthings! You are probably one of the the NICEST most BUBBLY people I have met on this platform! I just like watching you be nice to people and the fanart you make of other creators' AUs! Not to mention your own AUs are mighty interesting... I want to be as nice as you when I interact with other blogs! Also MY SONA BECAME AN ANIMATION IN YOUR CHRISTMAS VIDEO, SHE'S GOING PLACES THANKS TO YOU!

@bstroobery! specifically @bluestrawberrybunny, Apprenticeship AU is actually one of the first SMG4 fanfics I decided to sit down, lock in, and read through. And over time, your OCs SMG5 and SMG6 really grew on me! I also liked that you were open to AU interactions in your askbox, and crossovers have always been my sort of thing, so I decided that your askbox would be the first I would interact with! Thank you for being so chill with me!

@clowntrickery08! My latest mutual! Dude I really like your artstyle, and its super easy to tell that its you! The way you draw characters is really charming! So I can say for certain that I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN YOU DREW MY BOYS IN YOUR STYLE. Also I really like your sona's design! Also, your concept for SMGPuzzles and SMGWren is SO COOL that I am gonna play around with it sometimes!

@itz-miss-kamilyvision! My god, your OC has a whole-ahh saga in Godbox AU. You having your OC have so many interactions with my boys was so much fun to watch! Thank you doing all that, I always love making characters interact and you gave me just that over and over again! I also like seeing your OCs lore, and the other interactions you have with other creators!

@alan-william! The one who turned ME into a gacha character AND animated me! But what I appreciated the most is how you made my sona interact with yours and also Micheal's. That is the closest thing to real human interaction to me on this platform, and something that I've enjoyed the most here is finding community, and I really feel connected with you!

@birdy-four! We haven't interacted that much, but to this day, that giant reblog of Godbox AU Chapter 0 with you word-vomiting everywhere about my fanfic is my favorite reblog of all time! I sometimes go back and read it again because while most people see my art, they don't really get to see my writing, and I've never gotten feedback like this before!

@smg33exe! And last but not least, the one that put my boy Godbox!SMG4 in a gacha video! BECAUSE OF YOU I MADE IT ONTO YOUTUBE! Thank you for throwing my creation out there on the web, and for creating a video that I sometimes come back to just to marvel at what I've become!

As for the rest of you... I have planned something that everyone can partake in! Stay tuned, I just need to finish preparing it...

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven!!!

First of all, I wanna tell you I'm a great fan of your work, it helps me understand better a world that I love, so please don't stop doing it!

Secondly, I wanna know if you know of the existence of the 34 pages long essay of L*ona and your opinion on it due to the love-hate relationship you have with him.

Thank you once again for all that you do and I hope you have a really great year!!!!!

AAaaAAAAaAHHhhhHHHH, thank you for your kind words!! I've had my ups and downs with this fandom, but for the most part I've enjoyed my time here and very much intend to stick around~ Before I get to my thoughts, I'd like to give credit to @/arledrone, who I believe is the owner and author of said 34-page L*ona document! Thanks for penning this all the way back in... what, 2022?? For us to rediscover and read now in 2025 ^^

First thing's first, the document is actually quite old, so obviously there's a lot of materials missing (the Savanaclaw manga, light novel, the completed book 6, all the book 7 content, the new and relevant events/cards/voice lines/vignettes that have come out since then, etc. I'm of the belief that we don't necessarily need to look at this, as the point of the document seems to be pointing out Leona's very slow growth (and sometimes regression back to his worst traits) over the course of the content that was avaliable up until the point of the document's publication.

I won't bore you by regurgitating everything in the document; I'll just point at some things I found notable!

For the most part, I agree with the broad strokes and general interpretations of how Leona's character is presented. He's very complex and you often have to look beyond what he's initially claiming because he has ulterior motives or intentionally tries to act tough to conceal his own insecurities and vulnerabilities. (However, I did find the document a little difficult to follow in the beginning because it kind of felt like meandering with no clear topic or order of topics being established, just several paragraphs of listing Leona's traits without giving concrete examples to back them up? I guess the examples were provided eventually... still, I feel the document could have been edited and condensed a bit. The flow improved considerably when we got into summarization of the vignettes, book 2, and events.)

OP made very similar points as myself, such as saying that Leona isn't specifically after the crown, but what the crown represents (though this conclusion is common among L*ona fans). I was pleasantly surprised to even see them proposing that how others view Leona negatively may even be self-imposed--I had suggested the same thing a few years ago, but haven't seen this idea (or this particular phrasing) gain traction. I think my favorite parts of the document were comparing and contrasting Leona's reactions to criticism (in his School Uniform vignette vs in Fairy Gala). Vil appears as a major point of contention in both and serves as an excellent obstacle to challenge the arrogant and hard-headed Leona. I've compared the two before, and I think that helps to explain why Vil and Leona so often clash. Vil's the perfect person to go toe-to-toe with Leona, call him out for his BS, and push him to "be better". Fans frequently complain about how it feels like the OB boys didn't change significantly following their books--but they have, and they are, you just have to be willing to do the work to dig it up because the main story alone is not sufficient. It's a subtle thing, 'blink and you'll miss it' moments. All the main story can do is tell you "Leona is now consistently training with his team" and, "Leona is now getting off his ass to pitch in with physical labor". Book 6 certainly did a good job of showing us his development, but a lot of it I wager is personal reflection, and that's not going to always be easy to spot of manifest in a tangible, easy-to-see way, especially given how little we interact with the guy directly. We should be more cognizant that character change can happen off-screen (ie not in the main story) and outside of the presence of Yuu, and is not automatic or done in huge leaps. I think I would have liked it if Leona's minor roles were also touched on, but I understand why they were left out. It's a lot of information to look through, and there was less value in events like Beans Day, Ghost Marriage, etc. compared to instances where he was far more proactive. I'd argue that the times where he doesn't feature as a main character serve to characterize him a lot as well (and thus have their value) though; he uses his cunning to find an "easy way" to victory (even if it ended up failing in the end), he gets competitive with Vil over something he doesn't even care about due to his deeply rooted superiority complex, etc.

That about summarizes my thoughts! Apologizes if it was short, it was tough to really comment on stuff since at that point I’d only be repeating what’s written in the document.

[mumbailouis]

𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑺𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑨𝑻 𝑴𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑺𝑨𝒀 '𝑰𝑻'𝑺 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑮𝑶',

𝑩𝑼𝑻 𝑰 𝑫𝑶𝑵'𝑻 𝑭𝑬𝑬𝑳 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑮𝑶𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑶𝑴𝑬.

this is going to be a journal archive for me, but feel free to reblog or whatever.

the first ever time i saw louis was in manchester, uk : a place close to where louis calls home. it happened out of nowhere, stacks of luck falling my way where i moved to the uk to study and my lovely friend jas was selling her ticket. my first ever concert and i was so incredibly excited and lost in the love and memories that show held. over the past three years, i've seen him twelve times in total, something that even as i type this feels so surreal to me.

there was something cosmic working my way when the moment i decided to move back home, it was announced that louis would be performing in india. when i thought i'd never see him again, he somehow, without even knowing gave me hope to never say never. and so the wait began. i bought the ticket six months ago. two days after that i found out i wasn't moving home afterall, instead flying continents away to latin america. never fret, i said to myself. louis would tour here for lt3, i said. even still, my heart clenched thinking about how he's performing at my home and i wouldn't be there. maybe it was the same cosmos returning, or maybe it was a new string of fate tugging, but after i went through a depressive spiral and circumstances failed me, i did end up moving back home afterall. as i held myself and my suitcases, with tears filling my eyes and no idea what i was going to do with my life, i latched onto the only hopeful thing i could see at that point : at least i will get to see louis in india, at least there's that good thing still happening, unsnatched and unbridled.

and so, the excitement began. mixed still with that one nagging thought that it might all go wrong. i reached mumbai on friday, and the air felt fresh. hopeful. i met with some lovely friends on saturday, and the air felt like love on a summer's day. hopeful. i woke up at 5 a.m on sunday and ran for my life at 2 p.m and i sat down, starfishing, holding space for my friends, out of breath, grime all over me, my back aching, face drenched in sweat. hopeful.

at ten past seven, with my heart caught up in my throat, i looked up and there he was. in his white tank top and yellow trousers. magnificent. ethereal. live. there's something so magical about a live show, wherein the artist takes you in and you look right back at them with so much awe held in your eyes that it sizzles through the air. you could see the disbelief evident on his face and so when two songs in, he introduced himself and said he's a kid from doncaster in nothern england and never in a million years did he think he'd ever come to india and the gratitude swept over his words, that same disbelief washed over us. that how is it possible that he's here, in front of us. he kept saying the same thing so many times because he was left without words by how welcoming we were. in that moment, my previous 11 shows passed by in a blur and this 12th show felt like the first, but more special. he couldn't believe how loud we were and from the first moment itself he knew this was going to be a special gig, he said so a few times. and who were we to take that joy from him? we gave it back tenfold, we made sure he felt every single voice, every single breath, every single heartbeat. we were louder than him but the love present at the field was the loudest ever booming echo.

a moment of calm, cameras and signs down, soft strings of the band gearing up for the next song, a halo of blue lights surrounding him. i fanned myself with my left hand to beat the heat and i see him making a thumbs up sign. i look around me, to see if someone was feeling down and needed a breather. but i found no one and when i turned back, he made the sign again and pointed at me, as if to say "yes, you" and i signed back to him, "all okay"; he checked again and after the confirmation, started singing again. i'd like to hope that he also saw the zouis shirt i was wearing. i'd like to hope that i never forget this night.

halfway through the set, his confidence grew back and it roared, "this is my fucking lot", and yet again who were we to deny him that. the disbelief, ever present but now there was unadulterated happiness and a good overwhelm mingling. the amount of times he pointed to us, to here, to now, to this night showed how much it meant to him. he spoke more than he sang, his thank yous more than his songs.

on a sunday evening as the sun set down over the coast of mumbai, he sang saturday with a heavy voice, as though he couldn't hold his emotions in anymore. he let them pour out with each exhale, each word, each note. and we gathered it up, held it safe, and gave it back to him in the form of our unending love. a note change at the word "shade" and the confidence was back once again.

and so came the time we all hate, the goodbye, the hopeful temporary distance. it wasn't just us though, louis was right there with us, a pout on his face, saying he doesn't want this to be over, that he has to let go now. he starts singing, and i see tears stream down all around me. he's never once sang the words "i don't feel like going home" out loud but on a sunday in mumbai, he sang them, he meant them, he didn't feel like going home.

the bridge came upon us, the last few minutes of louis in mumbai. in my previous shows, i have noticed that before the bridge he says something along the lines of "sing as loud as you can, let's finish this together". but as everything that's happened so far, this sunday in march was different. he took a pause, took the crowd in, and said "i will never, ever forget this. let's finish this together. thank you, thank you, thank you." and took a leap to the sea of desis gathered on the field for him. he giggled through barricade, held hands, touched faces and soared, "i don't feel like going home" as he ran back, with one last swaying dance move and taking our voices and hearts along with him.

you'd think that now that he's left the stage, it'll be calm. you'll realise it's over, even though he didn't want it to end. and when has louis ever let go of his stubbornness? he posts pictures from the show immediately after, somewhere amidst the grounds as green day finish their set. and we feel the love soaring from him, the pride and the joy. moments later, still maybe reeling from the adrenaline, he tweets "from doncaster to mumbai" and seals a permanent home for himself in our country and our hearts.

as i lay in the field with my friends, our heads touching and hearts synced with a bone deep ache in us, i think to myself, there is so much hope in the world yet. it took 15 years for louis to come to our home, but it was worth the wait for him and for us. it may sound parasocial but i feel such kinship to louis and how i am drawn to him and he to me. to me, louis represents hope and strength. hope beats in our hearts, still, yet, and forever.

the last time i saw louis was in mumbai, india : a place close to where i call home. and so, the story ends here. or at least until a new string of fate tugs and the cosmos fall in line again.

[twig-tea]

I'm still processing the end of Love in the Big City the series, but I wanted to jot down a few details and unfinished thoughts that are sticking with me after episodes 7 and 8 [series-only thoughts].

Putting together the timeline made me realize how many important moments in Yeong's life share or are near to the same anniversary; We know he contracts HIV in February (2014), and that Gyu-Ho leaves in February (2022), and that Yeong quits his job in February (2023).

In ep5, we see Yeong's phone where he has three missed calls from Gyu-Ho, and we can see that he's saved Gyu-Ho's name as Q~❤ [hearto], and that probably contributed to why he had hope that the mysterious Q was Gyu-Ho.

We see Yeong finish the soy sauce, and he said it was expired back when they were living together, so that means it's another year out of date. There's something in this metaphor about hanging on past when things are good and finally being able to let go.

When Gyu-Ho first looks at the elephants in the cheap Bangkok motel they were a pair on that nightstand, and he only took one of them.

The metaphor of the ceiling fan hanging over them like a threat the one time they have sex without a condom, how the trust that the fan will not fall feels similar to the trust that the PrEP pills will do their job. Thinking about the way Yeong says Kylie is his and how he wants to be sure she'll remain only his.

And how that ceiling fan ties connects with Habibi and his photos of ceiling fans, how the ceiling is the last thing he saw before he went blind for two weeks and so he takes photos of them in every hotel, how he uses it as his profile picture on hookup apps, how he is hiding from his family and the life he doesn't want by spending time with people on the verge of breaking, but holding on.

The way Gyu-Ho haunts the narrative in episodes 7 and 8 the way Kylie haunted the narrative in 5 and 6.

The perspective we got on the scenes from Yeong and Gyu-Ho's trip to Bangkok in 7&8 contrasted with the version we got in 5&6 was so well done; both versions fit together really well but cannot be fully reconciled because our memories are never perfect, and a person is not a character in a novel.

I also found myself pondering how they shot the scenes that reprise across Parts; did they have both directors on site for these moments and shoot them in the same day? The technical aspect of these is so interesting to me because of the different directors and how different these shots looked (not just in the nuances of how they were acted, but how they were coloured, framed, everything).

There's something in my head about how writing was what drove a wedge between them when they were together, what Yeong tried to use to keep them together forever on the lantern (and instead what tore up the lantern), and what he used to remember Gyu-Ho when they were apart.

Something also about how Eun Su was so much better off not being married, I was so relieved when we found out the wedding had been called off, and how the pressure to hide how he was feeling about what was happening in his life was what made him feel closer to Yeong.

I was just so relieved when the T-aras fell through that door after Yeong tried celebrating quitting his job by himself and instead fell into a depression for six days. I have had friends do a similar wellness check for me and I will never forget how loved it made me feel when I thought I was unlovable. I'm just so glad Yeong had the T-aras in his life; and their presence in this section was complicated but deeply moving. I'm still working through everything I think about how they functioned in the series, but I am so, so grateful for them, and to this series as a whole.

I absolutely loved it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a YouTuber feel uncomfortable? 

Here me out please, before you all make assumptions. 

A couple months ago, I(19F) began following a YouTuber that I quickly began to love. I won’t be saying the YouTuber’s name for the sake of protecting their privacy, obviously. I started to watch their videos(which were mainly about a story that she came up with, featuring her ocs) and enjoyed them all, enjoyed the ocs, too. This YouTuber is a relatively unpopular one, but not so unpopular that they’re obscure or completely unheard of, they’re just not one of the big names in the YouTuber community. I made a few amazing friends due to us being in the same fandom and both enjoying this YouTuber’s content. One day, I decided to write a fanfic for this person’s story featuring her ocs. I uploaded the fic to AO3 and made sure to credit the YouTuber with creating these amazing ocs. I then showed it to my few friends, who all loved the fanfic. However, one day I made the mistake of showing the fic to a mutual friend(now an ex-friend but that’s a topic for another discussion) that me and the YT both share, and she sent the fanfic to the YT without my permission. Now before y’all get up in arms, I didn’t mind at all that she had sent it to the YT, in fact, I actually wanted the YT to see. However I really wish that she had asked me first, because I would have been more than happy to show it to them! Unfortunately, a few days after I sent it to her, my other friend(let’s call her M) showed me an announcement the YT made on her Discord, in which she complained about people writing fanfictions of her ocs and “using” them in her stories without her permission. She also stated that she felt like she was losing control of her story when other people wrote fanfics of it, and that whoever wrote the fanfiction “didn’t understand boundaries”(even though she didn’t have this boundary before and also wrote in the announcement that she used to be okay with fanfics of her work, but now no longer is). I deleted the fanfic the moment I saw the post from my friend, but I was a bit disappointed since I never meant to make her feel uncomfortable and only wanted to show my love and appreciation for her story, and possibly get more people to check out her story as well. Still, I deleted the fanfic from AO3. 

Now, here’s where things get interesting. A while later, I joined the YouTuber’s Discord server, where I met many people that I got along quite well with and quickly befriended. I often engaged in conversations with them about the story, and often drew fanart of my favorite character and posted it to the art channel in the server(she’s okay with fanart of her ocs, just not fanfics). Now is probably a good time to mention that while I was in the Discord server(and even before that) I often talked about the story with my friend on Tumblr(not M, these are two separate friends) who did not have Discord but loved the story just as much as I did. We often talked about the story and how much we enjoyed it, and often came up with jokes and headcanons, basic stuff like that, that any fan would do. Anyway, back to the Discord, one of the rules of the server was not to be disrespectful or rude or malicious towards other people, and another was that if you received two warnings about your behavior in the server then you would be quickly banned from the server and no longer allowed to come back. I understood this and tried to conduct myself to the best of my ability. However, one day, I found myself mysteriously unable to access the server, and when I tried to rejoin, I was again unable to. I found out that the reason I couldn’t access the server was because I had been banned due to “disrespectful behavior”, “engaging in arguments”, and making the YouTuber(who ran the server) uncomfortable. I was confused, because I genuinely don’t remember ever engaging in rude behavior with anyone. The few instances(according to them) in which I had been allegedly rude or disrespectful to people were both genuine misunderstandings, and both times I had apologized for them and did not repeat the behavior. I also did not receive any form of warning before being banned, despite one of the rules being that you will receive two warnings before being banned from the server. Still, I apologized for my alleged hostility and asked if I could come back, however the YouTuber said no, and went on to add that not only was I rude to people in the server(which, again, were both genuine misunderstandings), but that she had seen my Tumblr conversations with my friends in which I talked about her story, and said that she was “wildly uncomfortable” with how “obsessive” I was with it as well as my favorite character in the story. This bewildered me to no end because the YouTuber did not have Tumblr and had never once ever mentioned being on or having access to Tumblr, so I did not expect her to see my posts(and even if she did, I did not expect to get banned for them as they do not violate the rules of the server). It made me wonder why she didn’t just talk to me and explain to me that she was uncomfortable with me posting about her work instead of just banning me altogether and not giving me a chance to defend myself. I ended up sadly and reluctantly deleting all of my posts relating to her story, and requesting my friend to do the same. I told M about this scenario, and she was enraged on my behalf, saying that the YouTuber probably was actually upset about my having written a fanfic for her ocs, and said that she didn’t understand me being called obsessive because I acted like a normal fan would(which I agree with). Some of my other friends have sided with me as well and told me that the YouTuber was acting petty, however some of my friends have taken a middle ground. None of them entirely condemned me, but that may just be because they are biased and don’t want to hurt my feelings. The mutual friend/now ex-friend(of course) merely told me to “self-reflect” and move on from the story. Regardless, the YouTuber now has me blocked, not just on Discord, but on Instagram as well, where I also reside. 

Reasons why I think I might be the asshole: I will admit that I have a tendency to really hyperfixate on things and get especially attached to fictional characters that I adore and resonate with, so I can see why that would make them uncomfortable. That being said… 

Reasons why I think I might not be the asshole: I genuinely wasn’t trying to make this wonderful YouTuber feel uncomfortable or be “obsessive” with the story. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for it in a way that I thought was normal for online fans, which included writing a fanfic, drawing fanart, and geeking out about the story with my friends(admittedly publicly). I had no idea that these actions would turn the YouTuber off, and merely wanted to show how much I enjoyed the story. I also was never rude to anyone in the server and apologized whenever a misunderstanding rose up. I never tried to be aggressive with anyone or cursed anybody out or tried to have arguments with people, so I have no idea where that came from. 

So, what say ye, oh wise people of Tumblr? Am I the asshole or not?

What are these acronyms?

[finchly-tintinnabulation]

- Foster Fail -

OCs: Parker Brown (baseline), Battle-Brother Mikhail (Dark Angel), Blood Claw Kári (Space Wolf). Brother-Sergeant Perseus (Ultramarine) and Battle-Brother Celeborn (Lamenter) are mentioned but don't appear yet

Tags: Space Marine Husbandry (Sentience), found family dynamics that will be elaborated on, fluffy self indulgent nonsense, Space Wolf is big doggy, gay ass space marines

This idea wormed its way into my brain after binge reading @kit-williams's Space Marine Husbandry stuff, though what I've written may not exactly be compliant with the established lore in terms of bonds. Idk I'm a silly guy who likes nontraditional found family,, ty to @daily-shenanigans784 for the beta and to my beloved Blood Angels fan for giving a seal of approval lol

The Chorus: @thisuserislilsilly

- - -

“I just don’t see myself taking on any Blood Angels in the future.” 

“Really?” The new case worker tipped her head to Parker, clutching her clipboard and giving him a bemused look over the cafe table.

“Don’t get me wrong, my friend has a beautiful Sanguinary flock with a dreadnought they absolutely adore, so I can see the appeal. It’s more of a lifestyle thing.” Licking his lips, he brushed the last crumbs of pastry from his fingers, crumpling up his napkin to discard on his empty plate.

“You say that like you don’t have a Lamenter roosting in your barn, Mr. Brown. Clearly you know how to keep ‘em.” She tittered. Speaking to another baseline was certainly a change of pace from Ankesh, the Salamander he’d corresponded with the last few years, but so far he had no complaints about Lorraine.

Parker scoffed. “Celeborn and Percy are a bonded pair, I had no say in the matter.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but it was hard to imagine life without the Lamenter these days.

“Oh, Perseus? Your Ultramarine?” Lorraine’s bleach blonde hair swished as she glanced down at her clipboard.

“Mhm.”

She peered over the top of her forms, expression quizzical as he took a final swig of his coffee. “I thought you and him were bonded.”

“Hm? Why’s that?” With a raised brow, he wiped his lips on the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Well, I’ve never seen a solitary marine follow a baseline without one before.” Her round eyes bored into him, seeking answers like she could drill them out with a stare. Okay, maybe there was something he could complain about. Way too much eye contact.

“Dunno about any of that, but Percy’s family, no matter how you slice it.” Shrugging, Parker tried to find a spot on Lorraine’s nose he could look at more comfortably.

“How long have you been…?”

“Seven years.” He stated before her inquisitive silence could stretch too long. “I’m 23, be 24 in the spring.”

Beaming, her round eyes grew even wider. “No wonder you’re the local loyalist foster, if you’ve been working with Astartes for so long.” 

“Working is a strong word.” Chuckling, Parker couldn’t help but be reminded of days crawling out his bedroom window only to be scruffed by a scowling Ultramarine. “Speaking of, you bring the file?” 

“Sure thing.” Flipping past what he assumed to be his foster record, Lorraine unclipped a few papers from the stack on her clipboard, passing them across the table as he pushed his glasses up his nose. 

In the interest of skimming the whole document, Parker removed the paperclip holding the stack together and picked out the important details. Battle-Brother Mikhail, Primaris, loyalist. His brow furrowed. Dark Angel. First-time foster. “...No brothers-in-arms with this one, Lori?”

“Nope! You said you wanted to take it easy for the holidays, so I figured you’d only want one on your hands.” Lorraine grinned, seemingly oblivious to the migraine already brewing.

Fostering the rough cases of loyalist Astartes was Parker’s bread and butter, and it was partially because he had gotten quite good at tuning into their needs. Loyalists might have seemed easier than Chaos marines or Renegades, but that was only on the surface, as they could become just as unruly and sullen. Potentially violent.

 A great many fosters that had gone through Pinkman Ranch, and the most common were those poorly adjusted to the second millennium, either through recent arrival or homes that couldn’t provide for their needs. An industrious and well behaved Ultramarine or a beautiful and artistic Blood Angel could very easily become agitated and restless with someone who expected an easy foray into the benefits of having a space marine in the household. His father had taught him that the hard way.

“You’ve worked with Dark Angels before, right?” The case worker piped up, snapping Parker out of his contemplation.

“Yup. A pair of them, last year.” He mused, remembering that they were… hard to motivate. For lack of a better word, space marines with hobbies often adjusted better to a time without the strife they were built for, giving them passions to pursue. Dark Angels ran on piety and persecution as their duties, which proved to be incredibly difficult to get past. “They aren’t exactly big talkers.”

“Which makes them perfect for a nice quiet vacation!” Lorraine forged ahead, nodding eagerly.

“Mhm.” Quiet was exactly what he was worried about. Years of familiarity had cracked Percy’s shell, Celeborn was forthcoming with his needs and had Percy to advocate, and Kári wore his emotions as plainly as wearing his armor. Without a battle-brother for support, to ease his way into a new worldview, fostering a Dark Angel could be tricky and delicate work.

“My only question is how you think your Space Wolf might interact with him.”

“Kári listens to his pack. He knows to back off.” The concern was how the foster would react to his squad, not the other way around. The Blood Claw could be rambunctious, but Parker worried how such an insular marine would warm up, especially if he was out of commission for a bit and unable to stand between them. However, that wasn’t something Lorraine needed to know about.

“Anything else you wanted to ask? I assume you already know how to contact the local base.”

Parker dragged a hand through his hair, staring down at the small photo of the Primaris attached to the document. Serious but slim face, dark hair, a proud but haunted look in his eye. Of course he could always decline, but… this was part of why he started fostering after all. Percy would always be there if things got out of hand. 

“Nope, I think we’re good to go.” He paperclipped the file back together and handed it back across the table to Lorraine. “I assume you’ll send him by tomorrow?”

-

In the cold grey light of early morning, frost covered grass crunched beneath boots and sabatons alike, padding along the fence of the property. For someone so big, Parker was continuously impressed by how quiet an enormous stack of muscle and armor like a space marine could move so quietly, the Dark Angel having fallen into step behind him. 

“Just so we understand each other, you’re here to adjust, so I only have one big rule. Stay on the property, don’t go running off into the woods.” Parker looked sidelong over the barbed wire at the dense thicket of blue spruce blanketing the mountainside. “Rocky Mountain National Park is pretty damn big, so there’s plenty of room for war bands and renegades and the like, but you can’t go running after them while I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you. Understood?”

Looking back at the marine, Parker waited for some indication of understanding, thankfully receiving a nod. 

“Great. You can run off and hunt once we’re done, though if you can’t stand being idle that long, there’s plenty to do around here.” He smiled at the impassable helmet, hoping the Astartes felt welcome behind it. Mikhail hadn’t said a word since the local base had dropped him off, but Parker had to admit to himself he didn’t expect much else. 

“Most of the profitable work is seasonal thanks to the livestock we keep, the sheep get sheared in the spring, and we harvest honey from the bees in summer and fall, but upkeep is year round. There’s also the chickens up by the house, but they’re more like pets, and we eat the eggs more than we sell them.” Meandering towards the barn, Parker chattered away, a soft pride in his chest as he talked about what had become the last few years of his life. 

It wasn’t long before he was intercepted, a behemoth in grey armor rising from where he’d been sitting amongst the flock of sheep and jogging over with a sharp toothed grin. 

“This our fresh blood, PB?” Kári crowded into Parker’s space as usual, grabbing the baseline by the underarms and scooping him up for a hug in greeting. Though the armor was cold in the winter air, his body glove and skin radiated heat, and without his helmet Parker had free rein to run his hand through the Space Wolf’s short auburn curls. 

Parker chuckled. “Be nice, there’s no need to call him that. Kári, this is Battle-Brother Mikhail. Mikhail, Blood Claw Kári.” Twisting in the affectionate marine’s grip, he turned to smile encouragingly at Mikhail, gesturing as best he could for introductions. 

“No need to keep your helmet on, cousin. Let me see that pretty face of yours.” The Space Wolf teased, expression wolfishly playful as he nosed Parker’s cheek, ruffling his hair with warm puffs of breath. 

“Be nice, I said.” Parker groused, righting his glasses as Kári’s nuzzling had knocked them askew. “You don’t need to if you don’t want to, Brother Mikhail.”

Silent through their exchange, Parker half expected the Dark Angel to ignore Kári, but to his surprise after a moment of stillness Mikhail reached up. With a hiss of a releasing seal, his helm was removed and magnetized to his hip. 

The printed black and white thumbnail image on his file did him no justice. Wavy black hair hung down to the man’s jaw, framing oddly wide green eyes and high cheekbones. He, much like Kári, had a look of youth almost uncharacteristic of the Adeptus Astartes, but with a pale face rather than the Space Wolf’s freckled and suntanned one. 

Kári whistled appreciatively. “Oh, you are pretty! Why don’t you waste some time with me tending the sheep?“ Parker was ready to scold him when Mikhail defied his expectations once again and looked shy. A blushing Astartes was truly a sight to behold, and the baseline had to consciously keep his mouth shut so as to not gape at him. 

“That which does not serve the Emperor’s will is not anything praiseworthy.” Mikhail muttered, voice soft but oddly robotic. Blinking, Parker stared at the Dark Angel for a long moment before covering his mouth with a hand, almost certain that laughing would be seen as disrespectful.

“Seeing as he isn’t here to impose that will, I wouldn’t concern yourself.” Tipping his head at the other marine, Kári spoke flippantly. Already pushing buttons. Mikhail’s brow furrowed into a frown. 

“What he means to say,” Parker quickly interjected, “Is that nobody can find your Emperor in our time. Humanity is not united under him like in yours, so… he’s not exactly leading anything here. At the moment.”

Jaw working, Mikhail’s lips twisted as he seemed to think for a long moment, perhaps coming up with a retort as he stared intently at the baseline. It was what Parker often feared working with loyalists; they only knew to be His weapons. However, there was no way of knowing what Mikhail thought, as he once again fell silent with a brief nod of understanding. 

“How about we head back to the house? Percy and Celeborn are still baking?” Uneasy but relieved for the time being, Parker steered the conversation away from the Astartes’s past (future?) and patted Kári’s gorget in a request to be put down that was quickly obliged. 

“Lead the way.” Kári pressed his nose to the baseline’s mousy brown hair one last time before letting him go, and Parker started the trek back to the farmhouse, the two space marines following behind like a pair of very large, armored ducklings. 

[nonbinaryseymourkrelborn]

Long time no see…

wow it’s been a while…

for starters: i just want to say thank you to @lenaboskow and @mazzystar24

the two of you have stuck by me through the whole rollercoaster that has been my break from tumblr and i don’t think i would have wver come back if it wasn’t for the two of you, so thank you both for being such amazing, talented, beautiful, gorgeous friends to me through it all ❤️

and to those who have sent me kind asks/messages while i’ve been gone, thank you all for the kind words of support and encouragement as well- you are each appreciated so deeply and i can’t thank you enough!

so… a few things have happened while I’ve been gone

the first of which being my 22nd birthday in october which thankfully was spent with AC and a hot shower after having been without power for 12 days in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene; despite the inconvenience of having no power or water in those 12 days, i was still immensely lucky to have been safe and received no damage to my home unlike countless others who unfortunately are still recovering from the storm.

the other major-ish life update from my time away:

i adopted a puppy!!!

in early october (in fact, while we were still without power), I adopted this precious little girl (called ellie) from my local humane society.

she was around 3 months old when i adopted her, and in the beginning of January, she turned 6 months.

she has been a massive help in managing my anxiety and depression, keeping me company and giving me something to love and care for, and in the few months i have had her, she’s already wrapped me around her paw

i could not have asked for a better fur baby than her ❤️ she is probably the best thing that happened to me in 2024, and I cannot wait to see all the adventures life takes her on.

In other news; I’m back!

I had made the decision a few months ago to step away from tumblr as the landscape leading up to the s8 premiere of 9-1-1 was immensely difficult and taxing on my mental health, and I realized that it wasnt healthy to feel the way I so strongly did about the show or the fandom, and I needed to take a step back, alter the way i approached the show and fandom, and refocus on other things.

one of those things was refocusing on my job. shortly before i took a break, i had started a new job and was still very much in the training phase when i made the decision to take a break from tumblr. since then, i have been focusing on establishing myself as a reliable hardworking employee at my job, and i’ve also been focusing on the future;

i currently plan to take a flight attendant training course to become certified, and eventually find work with an airline.

because of this, 9-1-1 and the fandom have taken a back seat to more important things.

that being said, i still watched the entirety of 8a (not live, but a few days after airing once i had the chance to grill sarah and addie about what happened each episode- i have a lot of opinions on how things have gone and seem to be going but now is not the time nor place for that). i have still posted the occasional fic on ao3, and i am still working on my various wips as i am able to

i eventually realized how much i truly did miss being a part of the fandom, and have made the choice to come back, but going forward, i’m going to be doing things differently:

1. i will not be engaging in speculation or anything of that nature about future episodes- all it does is give me anxiety that manifests through frustration and i don’t want to continue feeding into that

2. i am going go be returning to my original philosophy of “the block and delete buttons are my friends.” in the last few weeks before my break, i found myself engaging more and more with toxic fans rather than just blocking them or deleting their replies to my posts- that won’t be happening anymore: if you come on my page being toxic or rude, you will be blocked and ignored because i do not have time for that shit

3. i want to branch out to other fandoms- this will remain a 9-1-1 blog first and foremost, and the majority of what i post will be related to 9-1-1, but i will also occasionally make posts about other fandoms/media that i have an interest in

4. most of what i post will either be fic related, headcanon related, or memes. as stated above, i do not have a healthy relationship with spec, and therefore i am not going to foster that by actively involving myself in it.

all that said, i’m really gald to be back, and i’m looking forward to being involved again! i hope everyone who stuck to the end of this long ass re-introduction post is having a wonderful morning, afternoon, or evening wherever you are in the world <3

[askinkiskarma]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ɪɪ - ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ

pairing: Neteyam x human!reader (part of Cruel Summer)

➽ a/n: omg the first new work for kinktober! so a bit of background, in my cruel summer sequel, the 1, i wrote this one memory in which i mention neteyam once woke vol up by giving her head, and it's been stuck in my head ever since so when i saw the eating out prompt, i knew it had to be about these two bc i love them so much and i love making myself sad by writing their love story. anyway i hope you enjoy ilysm smooches oxxoxoxoo

➽ words: 1,3k

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: somnophilia, touch of praise kink, dirty talk, oral - female receiving.

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

In the few months since your birthday, since that first time, Neteyam has looked for every excuse to be close to you, to feel you, your body, your touch, your breath as it fans over his face, your little cunt as it wrapped around his cock in the way that drove him crazy, that made him feel like he was forever ruined for any other girl, for the rest of time. It didn’t help that he loved you, that he felt like every star in the sky was dull and boring in comparison to the freckles on your face, like the moons rose and set from your eyes, like your smile was the lighthouse that forever guided his heart to where he belonged, to where the rest of his life would revolve around. Today, he was so excited to see you, to talk to you, to be your teacher in the art and skill it took to be a Na’vi. His mum might not be happy about it, but she didn’t know you, she didn’t understand. So excited, he was, in fact, you were not awake, not even close, by the time he opened the door to your room that was so cold, it was sending shivers down his spine - not as many or as powerful, though, as the sight of you, bare thighs and glistening folds visible as you were laying on your front, one leg spread over your duvet. Fuck. 

With a loud gulp and a newfound uncomfortable tightness in his loincloth, Neteyam found himself slowly approaching you, careful not to wake you. If he had to disturb your peaceful slumber for a day full of training and putting up with him, he figured he might as well make it worth your while. There were very few things in the world Neteyam loved more than eating you out - seeing you come undone around him, getting to taste you over and over like a parched man in the desert, feeling your hand tighten in his hair, desperately pushing him closer to your needy cunt until he was buried in you, in your warmth, covered in your slick, lapping at your cum until you were squirming under him, crying from overstimulation. 

Climbing quietly on top of you, he thanked his lucky star and his Na’vi training for the ability to be as stealthy as he was, and, lowering himself until his mouth was next to your ear, and two fingers gathering your abundant slick running down your body and onto your bedsheets, he spoke:

“Look how wet you are for me. Fuck. I love you, Vol. I love you so much, and I know I’m never going to be able to say it to you, not without ruining us, but I can show you. I can show you. Every time your eyes roll in the back of your head, every scratch of your fingers on my back, every time you scream my name in the dead of night as you let me explore your body and your limits, know that this is me, loving you, confessing to you, in the best way I know how.” 

He was happy when you didn’t wake up, but stirred minutely in your sleep, whispering half-attempts at his name that made his heart flutter in his chest and fill the room with momentary saccadic music that was previously heavy with the otherwise comfortable silence. His large hands were trailing down your body in whispered touches until they came to rest comfortably on your plush, plump ass. He couldn’t help the way his tongue traced every inch of your thighs, taking his sweet time, enjoying every moment he heard you whimper in your sleep, until he reached what he’s been craving, what he’s been dreaming about since the moment he’s called you his that fateful birthday. The way he licked your pussy from your clit to your ass was hungry, perverted even. He needed this, and so, as he always did, he dedicated everything he had to eating you out, groaning into your core as his tongue was circling your needy bud, swollen and pulsating with the sensation overload. 

A beautiful, glorious, nefarious dream was nothing new recently, your mind desperately trying to cling onto every bit of Neteyam as you could, unable to let him go even in your sleep. It was still new, this friends-with-benefits endeavour you had going on, and as such, you didn’t want to overwhelm him with the desire you felt taking over you every second you were in his presence. Your dreams, though... your dreams compensated for it, and doing a good job at it as such, his beautiful golden eyes peaking up from underneath his lashes, locked onto your own as his face was buried in you, tongue lapping viciously at your folds. You knew you should be quiet, but you couldn’t help the whines and moans of pleasure that only he would ever be able to coax out of you. It wasn’t long before moans turned to cries as the dream slowly slipped from your grasp, and the thought of letting go of it hurt you more than you were able to comprehend. It was strange when the confines of the fantasy collapsed but the pleasure bubbling in your core didn’t, and you let out a quiet, huffed gasp as soon as your eyes opened and you were met with the same image as the one you had just left behind. 

“T-teyam?” He didn’t stop his ministrations, not for anything in the world, but the low chuckle he let out was felt deep within you, and you moaned, the feeling too overwhelming to be repressed. He was so skilled, so good at the way he used his tongue, at the way his two large fingers were scissoring you open, pushing buttons you didn’t even know existed before him. 

“You make me crazy, Vol. You’re driving me fucking crazy.” 

“Shit, a-agh, please.”

“What do you need, Vol? Tell me what you need.” 

You didn’t need to tell him, not when he was doing it, not when he was licking and sucking your clit in a way that made you see stars, not when the sensations were reaching a dangerous high, that you knew you would reach an unbearable zenith, not when his fingers were rhythmically caressing your G-spot and your orgasm was drawing oh, so near and you knew it would tear you apart when it washed over you. 

“What happened, Vol? Palulukan got your tongue?” 

“Don’t stop, please! Fuck.” 

“Look at me. Keep your eyes on me, Vol. I need to see your eyes when I make you cum.” 

If someone told you there was the elixir of life in between your thighs and Neteyam wanted to live forever, you’d believe them. And so you watched as he finished you off, desire and hunger swirling in his beautiful golden orbs, struggling to keep your eyes on him when all you wanted was to bury your head in between the pillows as you rode out your orgasm, that crashed and burned, but healed you instead of tearing you apart. There was beauty in being with Neteyam, the man you’ve known all your life, the man who knew you best, the man you secretly loved. There were rules to this, your fateful friendship with benefits, rules you both ought to respect and rely on if this wasn’t going to end in heartbreak, and yet, as he looked at you from beneath his eyelashes, chin and mouth covered in your cum and slick, a soft smile on his face, he almost looked like… he felt the same way. 

“Teyam…”

“I’m never not waking you up like this, ever again.” 

You laughed, finally able to prop your head on your pillows and allow your breath to settle in your lungs. 

“If you want me to come training with you in the woods, you’d better.” 

taglist: taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @neteyamyawne @eywevengl

[obsidianbaby]

Don't Love Me Like A Brother - Prologue

Brothers Best Friend Series - PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1 -

series synopsis - ronnie's younger brother, tyler, is a famous youtuber & influencer and is best friends with the sturniolos. This series will be following ronnie's life as she befriends the triplets and catches herself developing feelings for a certain someone...

**series will contain smut as it develops but warnings will be added to those specific chapters

**found myself writing a few flashback chapters before present day just to build up the established friendships bc I'm impatient and don't want the slow burn to drain anyone 😭

warnings/notes - no smut in this as it's just the prologue to introduce y'all to the story.

a/n - starting this series and im very exciteddddddd i hope y'all fuck with a slow burn, friends to lovers best friends brother type beat. Buckle up mfs it's gonna be an angsty ride

a/n pt 2 - im not gonna share who ronnie develops feelings for just yet I want y'all to be on edge okok enjoy MWAH xx

__________________________________

PROLOGUE

ronnies pov

having a brother who's famous on social media is humbling to say the least.

The amount of fan girls who have followed my accounts just because they're obsessed with him makes me question many people's sanity (including my own).

But tyler is one of my best friends. And thank god for my dad, who from the jump, did not tolerate any misogynistic bullshit from my brother.

Raising two kids as a single dad after my mom passed away (before ty and I were older than the age of 5) was tough for him and he embraced the times when he needed support (like when i first got my period, bless his heart he bought almost every type of menstrual product off the shelf).

His values were the perfect structure for us to grow up following; respect, open communication, giving our best efforts to everything (even if the only effort we could offer up was a 60% instead of a 100%)

My childhood friends would always whine about how "chill" my dad was. And it's not cause he didn't care, (he probably cares too much) but he didn't want to shield us either, knowing we need to learn how to exist in the world without him constantly up our asses.

"As long as we can talk about shit at the end of the day then we're good" one of his favorite mantras he would spew to me and ty when we would get caught doing something you might call a "right of passage" as a teenager.

And since it was just the three of us, we've always leaned on each other a lot. Sunday family dinners at nans' every week, taking turns helping my dad at his shop after school (he's a car mechanic), movie nights every thursday night where my dad would close up shop early, setting up the projector in the shop garage and ordering us pizza. My brother has been a best friend to me since I held him in my arms at the age of 3 when he was born.

And of course, we have the usual chaotic fights to the death like most siblings do, him pranking me in the most annoying ways, me making fun of his dumbass, him eating all of my food, me stealing his cool clothes, him begging me to uber him around everywhere, etc.

But we also just really enjoy each other's company too; going on late night walks around town, sitting in bed staying up talking all night, playing mario cart for hours (id always kick his ass), going adventuring together to forests or beaches, hanging out at the skate park together (me laughing at him eating shit and him chasing me around trying to whack me with his board), us both ditching our friends to stay at home and yap to each other instead, us having campfires in the backyard with both of our friend groups together, working on restoring mom's 1967 ford mustang together that she left us when she passed.

So when he came to me a few years back, during the pandemic, asking my thoughts on him posting on youtube, I was in full support (after teasing him that no one would find him, an 18 year old lanky white boy about to graduate high school funny or interesting. I have to keep him humble ya know?)

But his first few videos on youtube went viral and his following kept growing daily, especially when he started posting on tiktok too.

He's had me (and even my dad) featured in his videos which i don't mind at all (since im the one that's editing them)

I can see why the internet loves him (i did help raise him of course).

But since he's hit over 3 million on youtube last year, he's been doing a shit ton of collabs with other influencers and youtubers; the sturniolo triplets, larray, emma chamberlain, jake webster, tarayummy, vinnie hacker, carrington, etc.

And these days I try to stay behind the scenes as much as possible, trying to enjoy my solitude away from the opinions of crazy fans. (why do they care so much about what im doing anyways?)

Yet he understands (thank god) and he's always inviting me to come hangout with the friends he's made through social media, and i can't lie and say i don't enjoy being in the company of such dope (and attractive) people.

END OF PROLOGUE

______________________________________________

a/n - hellooooo i have a few more parts already written for this but im gonna wait to see how this post goes first (because i have a dire need for validation and praise) anywaysssss thank you for reading mwah xx

[byechristopher]

WE'RE ALONE.

– Chris Sturniolo angst/fluff.

depressed-stoner!chris x f!reader

Author's note: there's a playlist I have on spotify (literally my childhood) that 100% inspired me to write this – hits too close to home, pft. So here, Chris smoking w33d. Do not copy/steal my work. :) didn't proof read.

Warnings: w33d obviously, mentions of alcohol and depression. Sad, messy love. Also, super long – don't know what else, tbh. This is JUST a fan-fiction.

Playlist:

Time was passing by and the voices from inside the living room wouldn't stop – I can hear them getting louder and louder. I bring my knees close to my chest, hugging myself and I turn the volume of my speakers up.

It's always like this; they get loud and then they pretend this never happened, like I never heard what they said to each other. Or how they talked about this family, this house. It was exhausting for me, to say the least.

A few hours later, with the loud music still filling the dark room, I decided it was maybe time to sleep. This would all end faster that way. But when I was about to do that, I saw.. something out the window? I know I did. There it is again... hold on – a shoe? I get up, a little scared, and look outside. I knew it. I open the window.

"Chris, what the fuck.." I yelled and I saw Chris picking up his shoe, jumping around for a few seconds before wearing it again.

Oh, Chris. We've been close friends for so long. As long as I can remember – my childhood is filled with memories of him. I've always been so thankful. He has always been the safe place that I desperately needed but never really knew I wanted. He would always be there whenever I needed him and if course, I did the same thing for him. He was worth it anyways.

"Come on!" he yells, not caring if my parents heard him.

"Really, Chris? Your shoe?" I place my elbows on the windowsill, laughing a little bit.

"I couldn't find any rocks. Now shut up, and jump!" he grins and I roll my eyes.

I turn the volume down, not all the way down, enough to not let my parents hear what is going on in here, but also without disturbing their sleep. I quickly wear a big, black hoodie, I put on my lace up boots and after grabbing my phone, wallet and cigarettes, I walk towards the windowsill – I've been sneaking out my room ever since I was little, I cannot believe I'm still doing it in my twenties. But who cares.

I place my foot on the windowsill, grabbing a branch of the tree that is right outside my room (thank God), and I climb up that tree till it's safe enough for me to jump – Chris catches me and we fall down, like every other time. We laugh.

"Hi." he says, it's simple, but it makes me smile.

"Hi. I didn't know you were here – I thought you were coming back next Tuesday." I say and I keep walking next to him; we know exactly where we're going.

"I was supposed to, yeah. But I didn't like it there, so I left. Plus, you are here." he has a little smile on his face and only now do I notice the paper bag in his hand, "beers." he says before I get to say anything. I nod, smiling.

We keep on walking and about ten minutes later, we finally reach our destination. There is an old, abandoned school that we found out about a few years ago. I still remember that day – I was so scared, especially when I saw these old stairs that were leading up to a big, rusty door. When Chris opened the door, though, we found out that there was a flat roof behind that door, old school chairs then and there. I smoked my first cigarette here. Also, my first blunt. Hah.

The chairs are still placed right in front of the parapet wall that's built along the edge of the flat roof. So we sit down – Chris is already rolling a blunt and I open two cans of beer, handing him his.

"Now. Tell me, what's wrong?" I break the silence abruptly. He doesn't look at me.

He doesn't need to tell me anything, I always know when he's not feeling well. And I know he wants to see me too, but that's not the exact reason he is here.

"Fought with my brothers." he murmurs and licks the wrap to seal the blunt while looking at me.

"Yeah, no shit. Why?" I watch him as I take a sip of my beer.

"Just bullshit. It doesn't matter. They know I'm here with you anyway." he mutters. His hair is a little messy and his hoodie is also too big for him, as usual, "what's wrong with you anyway?"

"The usual." I sigh and place my feet on the parapet wall, the can of beer in between my thighs, making my bare legs cold and making goosebumps rise on it – not the wisest choice to keep these shorts on.

We talk and talk and talk, for hours. We're both high, drinking beer and a mini bottle of vodka that was hidden in his big hoodie, we both had our legs hanging from that low wall and laughing like idiots.

He grabs the back of my head and brings me closer to him, his breath fanning over my lips, "missed this." he whispers and places his lips on mine. I groan in his mouth and start moving my lips against his, my tongue licking his bottom lip. He lets my tongue enter his mouth and I get up quickly to straddle his thighs, sitting on his lap so that I can be more comfortable, without breaking the kiss, of course.

His hands sneak under my hoodie and his cold fingers travel up my back, my hands are buried in his hair, tugging at it gently. The kiss is slow but hungry and I find myself getting lost in it. Then, it hits me. I part our lips and I place my forehead against his, my hands are placed against his chest, "I can't." I murmur.

I can still remember the last time this happened. And the previous time. And the time before that. Blah blah blah. But last time I said it was the last time, because I cried myself to sleep that night. Whenever we get high and we drink, we sometimes make out. Just sometimes. He's always the first one to make the move because I'm too scared. I told myself it wasn't that deep the first time it happened, but I was secretly craving the next time it would. When we didn't make out, I would go home disappointed. Crying, sometimes. I didn't know if I was subconsciously falling in love (or already in love) with Chris or just really deprived of affection, but I was more and more hurt each time it happened.

"What is it?" he whispers and grabs the nape of my neck with both hands, pulling me close to place a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Why.. do we do this, Chris?" I whisper, I'm sacred to even ask the question, but I have to. For my sanity.

"I thought you wanted it." he stiffens a bit, pulling away a little bit.

"I do. And so do you. But why do we want it?" I search for his eyes but he averts his gaze from me every time I try to.

"What kind of question is that.. we're high and we make out. It's not a big deal." he says and I know I will cry myself to sleep again tonight.

"It might not be. For you." I sigh and he tries to sit up, indirectly telling me to get off of him but I don't. He's uncomfortable. So am I. But we have to do this.

"You're fucking high and you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying." he shakes his head and looks away. He knows I know exactly what I'm saying and that's what pains me the most.

"I might be in love with you." I say and the silence gets louder than my goddamn parents earlier.

"I love you too, what does that have to do with anything.." he says, completely dodging what I just said to him.

"Chris. I'm fucking serious. I think I'm in love with you." I whisper and I cup his cheeks.

"Don't do this to me. I can't deal with this." he whispers back, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Do you love me like this, too?" I ask the question I dread the most.

"We can't do this. This just won't work. We're a fucking mess. How will we ever be good for each other? Can't you see it?" he says and my eyes fill with tears; I don't know what to say, because deep down I agree with him, "don't do this to me." he continues and I know he's talking about the tears in my eyes.

He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me as close as possible, kissing my cheeks to catch the tears that escape my eyes, "I just.. you know I can't. Can't do this again."

"Chris.. seriously? We were kids!" I open my eyes just to look at him.

I know I hurt him when we were younger. But that was years ago, he can't keep blaming me for it.

"Yes, fucking seriously. I carried that around for a long time. You knew I was in love with you. You were the only one I wanted to be with." he glares at me and I sigh.

"I've apologised a million times, Chris."

He wasn't wrong. I remember how hurt he was back then – I knew he was in love with me when we were young and took advantage of the affection he was giving me, even though I didn't want him. I didn't feel the same way he did. Or at least, I didn't know I did. So I cut him off out of the blue and told him I would never want him this way. To make sure he knew I never would, I kissed his best friend. I don't know why – I think I wanted to prove that I really didn't like him. Now that I think about it, I wanted to prove myself more than him.

"You apologised and I forgave you. But you can't come here and tell me you think you are in love with me. What does "think" mean?"

"I don't know, Chris! It's.. overwhelming." I groan and I get off his lap, walking towards the door. I don't want to leave. But I don't know what to do, "you hurt me too, Chris. Ever since we kissed for the first time, I haven't been able to do it with anyone else. Hell, every time I tried to even talk to another guy, I could only think of you." I yell.

"Well. We can't be together. That's all I know." he clears his throat and grabs a cigarette.

"That's all you have to say?" I turn around to look at him as he smokes.

Silence.

"That's all I have to say." he mumbles. He gets up. He leaves. I stand there. I grab my stuff and I leave, too. That's what I get for wanting to be with an emotionally unavailable guy, who I know will probably hurt, as much as I will probably hurt him. We're both messed up. Broken childhood with broken hearts.

I walk towards my house crying but I don't want to go home. It's almost 5 in the morning, it's cold and it's dark. I should be in his fucking arms now, not walking around with nowhere to go.

At 05:20, my phone rings. Chris. He is crying and my heart shatters.

"I am afraid I will hurt you more than you already are." he says and I cry, "I'm afraid that one day, my problems will make me unavailable for you and I can't imagine not being able to be there for you. Ever." he sniffles.

"I'm scared too, Chris.. but.. I want to be selfish this time. I want to be with you. I don't wanna think about my parents, I don't wanna think about your friends, I don't wanna think about anyone other than you. I know I am in love with you." I sit down on the pavement and I try to make him hear me as much as I can through the tears.

"Fucking hell. I am in love with you. Where are you? I'm coming."

I tell him and in less than two minutes I see him running towards me. I can see his red eyes and his wet cheeks. He sees me and immediately gets on his knees to be on my level, cups my tear-stained cheeks and kisses me with so much love that I can feel my heart beating normally again.

"You came quickly."

"I always come for you. I go wherever you go." he whispers in between kisses and we fall backwards – I'm on my back and he's kissing me again and again.

"Then never leave me."

"Never."

[argylemnwrites]

Anyone Still Here?

So... it's been a while. I had a baby. I traveled with her internationally for a wedding. She turned one. I built a house and moved into it. I had a dental emergency a few days before my closing. Everything in the new house is now toddler proofed... until she thinks of a new way to get into a dangerous situation. I think that many life events safely defines my hiatus as "extended."

The Choices fandom is, I'm guessing, dying. I've not been on Tumblr or even the Choices subreddit with any regularity in over a year at this point, so I don't know this as a fact, but I have my suspicions. The mass culling of PB staff, the acquisition of PB by an AI company, former talent from PB starting a competing app would tend to indicate trouble on its own.

But a dying fandom is one that is more worth coming back to, though. I firmly believe that. When the original content is floundering, when fan engagement is dropping, that is the time that fan works matter the most. So, knowing that my readership is likely going to be non-existent and that my series have probably been written off as dead for quite some time, I'm looking to come back.

I've been "writing" in my mind on my commute again lately. Found myself missing engaging with these characters. Most of all, I want to finish my current WIPs. I don't know if literally anyone who was reading them before is still around. But if anyone is, I want to know if you have preferences about how I go about tackling finishing up my two unfinished TRR canon divergent series - Why Are We Still Waiting? and Fight or Flight. (And yes, I still remember how they both end, hahaha)

Not sure there are enough people to warrant true polls, so just going to post this here:

Do you prefer that I alternate between my two ongoing series, or is tackling one first, then moving on to the other preferable? If the latter, any preference on which series I start with?

Do you prefer I post as I have a chapter done without any regular schedule, or would waiting longer for me to finish the series so I am able to guarantee posting dates be better?

Would links to AO3 be acceptable if I find myself getting annoyed with Tumblr formatting, or will you only read on Tumblr itself?

If you have opinions, I want to hear them. If you've left the fandom, I hope life is treating you kindly and don't worry, I'll be posting a tag list clean up post before I start posting any writing again so you won't get spammed. If you've straight up forgotten who I am, no worries. It's been ages. Trying to find my most recent tag list is a joke at this point. I think this is my "up to date" version for my TTR stuff at least, but sorry in advance if you either should or shouldn't be included and weren't/were respectively.

Perma: @forallthatitsworth @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @lovingchoices14

TRR/TRH: @motorcitymademadame @iplaydrake @princessleac1 @twinkleallnight @marshmallowsandfire

@axwalker @sirbeepsalot @iaminlovewithtrr @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @hedgehogs-dilemmas

Drake x MC: @rubiwalker @walkerdrakewalker @petiteboheme @mskaneko

ICWAM: @sunnyxdazed

FoF: @burnsoslow @monstercyclops

[choicesficwriterscreations]

June Creator of the Month: Thosehallowedhalls

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month is @thosehallowedhalls.

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I can't remember exactly. 2021, I think? Laws of Attraction was on its tenth chapter.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined in January of this year. I was upset with Crimes of Passion 2, so I wrote a couple of stories about it. I had deactivated my old Tumblr long ago, so I had to open a new one.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

I love old buildings - the history, the ambiance. I tried hallowedhalls, but it was taken, so I added the article.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

I… have zero recollection of this post. But I'm big on nostalgia and mourning past times, so the fact that this was my first post tracks.

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. I've been teaching myself to draw, but I'm not anywhere near close to sharing what I do.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing fanfiction way back in… 2010? For about four or five years. Then I stopped until December 2023.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Crimes of Passion on both counts.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

That would be The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm, inspired by The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. I do still like it, but I would tighten up the writing a bit. I had barely written any fiction for several years at that point, and the lack of practice shows.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

I keep going back and forth between The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm and Home Without. Both are angsty short series.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I was taken aback by the comments on The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm. I'd posted it on AO3 a few weeks before, and had gotten a handful of kudos and one comment, but within 24 hours of posting it here, I had several lovely reblogs. It was a welcome surprise. Stories with fewer comments… I guess Home Without. The first chapter got quite a bit of love, but by the time the final chapter rolled around, fewer people were interacting.

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I love a balance, but I'd say angst with a happy ending. I enjoy the breadth of emotions angst lets you explore.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are bits and pieces of me in all of them. Emma has my sarcasm, and Raine has my need to look for the best in people. There may be more, but if so, it wasn't done intentionally.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Perfectionism. Like I said before, the lack of writing practice shows. I know that the only way to get better is to keep writing, but I hate seeing the gap between what I do and what I want to do. Catch-22.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

My Sebastyan x Emma fic, Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies. There are only a couple of chapters left, but I've been struggling with it for a couple of months now.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Oh, hell no.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

So many writers have influenced my writing throughout the years, including authors I do not currently read. The Brontë sisters, Charles Dickens, Nora Roberts, Jane Austen, Courtney Milan, Alyssa Cole… I could go on and on. Fanfic writers… There are a lot, but off the top of my head, @inlocusmads, @coffeewithcutcaffeine, @gaiuskamilah, @aria-ashryver, @jerzwriter, @dutifullynuttywitch, @aces-and-angels, @petalouda85, and @storyofmychoices. I know there are more.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Home Without. I'm a sucker for good pining, and I'd love to see all that mutual longing play out onscreen - not to mention that reunion.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I do. I'm currently working on a horror short story, a MG novel, and a dual timeline mystery that's still in the research stages.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, non-fandom writing, drawing, learning new things (especially languages!), going on walks, and drinking enough coffee to alarm medical professionals anywhere.