#either way i'm looking forward to another year of writing! it's been really cool so far :D

[that---one---kid]

The cold snow

Coriolanus x Reader

AN: Sorry it kinda progressed really fast and I should’ve wrote him getting gradually more obsessive, but I’ll write another like that. Do yall think reader should relate more to teens nowadays though? Should I put her hitting a vuse in the next fic?

Smut, non-con, dub-con, arranged marriage, dark!Coriolanus, baby trapping, mentions of murder, threatening, reference to domestic violence, drugging, loss of virginity

Not once did you feel love for a man. Not once did you plan on getting married. And not once did you ever consider marrying a man from the capital, they were all the epitome of stuck-up, heartless and cruel bastards dressed up to hide it with a thick veil of elegance, but, alas, when did things you wanted ever go your way. You hide a scowl as the man you had heard far too much stood in front of you next to your father. “..and I'm sure she’s looking forward to the dress!” Your father laughed. “I’m quite sure my cousin is just as excited to help with the design.” The snow-haired boy- no, monster, said, turning to face you, his cold blue eyes look unnerving in the dim light of your dining room. You wondered if he had that same look in his eyes as he came up with ways to monetize innocent deaths. You give a forced smile, directed towards your soon-to-be husband. “I can’t wait to see what she comes up with!” Your voice sounds more strained than intended. Your father's hand lands heavy on your shoulder and he gives you a squeeze before speaking. “Coriolanus, it’s been an absolute pleasure as always, but I hate to keep you too late. University I’m sure is tiring enough and you’ll have Y/N to talk your ear off soon enough.” You shift your shoulder and shake his hand off. Your father gives you a look and Coriolanus smiles before taking your hand and raising it to his lips, bowing slightly he kisses your hand softly, the feeling of his lips on your skin makes a chill run up your spine. “Right again Mr. L/N, but I do look forward to having someone else to talk to aside from Gran’mam and Tigris and Y/N is a wonderful conversationalist.” Your father makes his way to the front door alongside Coriolanus while you snake away as they’re too preoccupied with a conversation of politics and wedding arrangements. You quietly make your way upstairs, narrowly missing a maid in your hurry to slip out of your dress and into a bath, washing the filth you felt from that monster touching you off of your skin. You weren’t naive to Coriolanus Snow. Despite a year his junior plenty of people had talked of the tenth games, of Coriolanus’s ideas, and even reminiscing on it made your blood boil even more so the fact that your father would not only condone his actions but praise them. He talked nonstop of Coriolanus’s genius and innovative brain, paired with an influential name is precisely why he was so eager to offer you up as a bride for this up-and-coming president. A soft knock on your bedroom door alerts you. “I’m in the bath!” You yell. Hearing a soft creek, footsteps slowly follow. “Hello?” You yell, a brunette female avox holding a silk robe enters your bathroom. You shift to cover yourself, despite having servants since childhood you never did get used to their lack of speech and dead stare. If your tongue got cut out you wouldn’t have much light in your eyes either, you suppose. “Thanks, just leave it on the counter.” The silent woman robotically moves towards the counter and places it down before leaving, swift footsteps and a quiet door closing signaling it was time for you to get you. Quickly standing and pulling the drain, the cool air on your skin gives you goosebumps. Slipping on the robe, there's another knock on your bedroom door. “Yeah, just one minute…” You pause, trying to recall the avox’s name, but drawing a blank.

Had even you dehumanized these indentured servants so much that you never learned their names? “Y/N?” Your head perks up from the thought. “Uh, you can come in, Mother, I just got out of the bath.” The door closes and you make yourself decent before walking out into your bedroom. Your mother sits at the edge of your bed, her thin frame barely sinking into the plush sheets. Your mother, although barely giving out any more than the bare minimum of maternal comfort, had always been a confidant for you. Rarely speaking unless spoken to, dressed to your father's liking, and eating the rations for a mouse on your father's request, you had always had a soft spot for her. You knew from a young age you wanted nothing to do with men, and never wanted to be trapped in a marriage like your mother was, loveless and cold it was no wonder you were an only child. She motions for you to sit next to her. “Grab your brush and let's talk.” Grabbing your brush off the vanity beside you, you walk over and stiffly sit next to your mother, handing her your brush. She grabs a lock of your hair and begins working her way through the tangles. This goes on for a few minutes before she breaks the silence. “I know you’re not happy about the marriage.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Forgive me for not wanting to marry the malicious Mr. Snow, I know I’m sooo lucky to get a shot with someone who can make such a spectacle of child murder.” The sarcasm that made you bite your tongue around your father was let loose around your mother  She brushes out a knot with more force than she should, making you let out a wince. Sighing she continues on to another section of hair. “No need to be smart.” She puts down the brush and turns you towards her. Her pale, perfectly curated mask of makeup cracks up close. Her tired eyes and creases from many nights of poor sleep cannot be hidden, no matter how much concealer and powders are applied. “I was much more naive than you are when I married your father. I had the stories and the glory days of the capitol, but I was wrong. I know we haven’t set the best example of marriage for you, but please take this away if nothing else.” Your mother looks at you with a stern and pleading gaze. “You need to submit yourself to this fate.” Her voice is desperate and you can only give her a deadpan stare, “I’m not like you, mother, I have no interest in-” A stinging pain floods your senses, your cheek beginning to get hot accompanied by what you're sure is a brilliant red handprint. Your mother composes herself, fumbling with her hands in her lap, a blank stare adorns her tired face. “Unless you want to feel that and much worse from a hand much heavier than mine, I suggest you heed my advice.” Quickly and quietly, your mother stands up and walks to the door while you sit still in a somewhat shocked state from the normally docile woman's slap. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, I don't want you to go through what I did.” And with that she leaves, leaving you to recover and slip into a nightgown before lying in bed, a futile attempt to make sleep come quicker as your head swims through questions, realizations and your inevitable fate of entrapment.

A week comes and goes, you fill your time with work from the academy, struggling to get through dinners and talks with your father about marriage and the upcoming wedding. Your mother, to her credit, uncharacteristically changes the subject from time to time, giving you few and far-between sympathetic glances. You're grateful for that, at least. “I have business to attend to in District Two for a while, your mother and I will be away for at least a week, maybe more.” Your father says in between bites of sirloin. “Will Arthur be coming around?” Arthur was your uncle, a distant relative your father would like to forget, but it was the one fight he lost to your mother, her absolute refusal for him to isolate her completely from her eldest brother was what a majority of their fights were about in your childhood. Despite that, Arthur always made things more lively, less constrictive, and was the rare times you saw your father intimidated. Your father pauses before speaking again. “He is not, I see it fitting that Coriolanus comes and stays with you while we are away. He will escort you to school and come with his driver to pick you up after his university classes.” You clench your fork, and anger and something akin to nervousness twists in your stomach. Steadying your mind before speaking, you look to your mother who sips her wine, refusing to look at you. “Does that not seem improper, Father. I mean we aren’t to be wed for two more months. What image would that look like?” You try finding any loop, using the family image as leverage wasn’t ideal, but it was a last-ditch effort. “Since when have you cared about your public image? It sets a strong front up for the two of you. I want you to be seen with him as a young respectful woman from a strong house, someone the people can see as the first lady of Panem and I trust you will do as told.” There’s emphasis at the end of his words, more like a threat. Your mother clears her throat before excusing herself to the restroom. The rest of the dinner was sat in tense silence.

A knock at the door causes you to shoot your head up from your book in the living room.  Your parents had left early in the morning and it was now early afternoon, you tried easing the building nerves in your stomach by reading non-stop since before the sun was up, with time put aside to make sure your hair and makeup were perfect because despite hating you fiance and dreading his arrival, some small part of you still wanted to be desired by him.  You set down your book before whispering yelling at the avox passing by. You could see a small glimpse of Coriolanus waiting at the door from the window, but the tree would make it hard for him to see you. As childish as it sounded you asked the avox to wait until she heard your bedroom door from upstairs to close before letting coriolanus in. Like a child caught sneaking down stairs to get a glimpse of Santa, you ran quickly and quietly upstairs, praying silently that Coriolanus didn’t look through the windows next to the door only to see you scampering upstairs to hide in your bedroom. As quickly as you could you make it to your bedroom and slam the door just loud enough so that it could be heard downstairs. From there you crawl into your bed and under the covers of your bed, but instead of hiding from the monsters under the bed like when you were a child, you’re hiding from the monster downstairs, the one who comes to strip you of what little freedom you had left. Hearing the stairs creak makes the dull anxiety turn into panic as the creaking disappears, meaning they’ve now made it to the second floor, meaning they, who you were hoping weren't Coriolanus, were most likely heading for your door. Thinking quickly, you feign sleep, hoping that the oldest trick in the book will work on whoever came to disturb you.  A knock on the door makes you flinch, but still you lay as silently as possible, trying to control and calm your breathing. The door knob turns and the door is pushed open ever so slightly. A heavy footstep echoes through your quiet room followed by a closing door.

Glass against glass is heard before being placed by your bedside followed by a weight on the bed and hot breath tickling your ear. “Sleeping at noon? Come on now, Y/N, I’m not an idiot.” Coriolanus’s voice comes out smooth like honey, but cold like the harsh whip of winter air when you first step outside. You turn over, bleary eyed and fake yawning. “What are you doing in my bedroom uninvited?” Your voice is meant to be accusatory and confident but comes out meek and wavering. Coriolanus backs up, his perfectly slicked back hair doesn't falter even when he brushes it back, a smirk that spells nothing but no-good unnerves you. “I’m your fiance, I think we’re past courting formalities, Y/N, plus, I’ve brought you tea.” Smiling Coriolanus gestures to the white porcelain cup. “Thank you, Coriol-” “Call me Corio, please, the formalities and all are far behind us.” You smile, picking up the tea cup and taking a sip out of it to try and fill the awkward silence that weighs heavy in the room. The bitter taste catches you off guard, scowling as you take another sip, trying to gauge what kind of tea it is. “Corio, what is this, it's such a..strange flavor?” Smiling Corio pushes the cup up to your lips again. “It gets better with taste, and old recipe Grand’mam taught me.” Downing it as fast as possible as to not offend his Grna’mam’s tea you feel yourself get light headed as the world gets blurry. “Corio, what is this..” You trail off, your words are slurred and speaking feels like a chore. Your senses are so numbed that you don’t think twice when Corio gently pushes you back against the feather pillows. “Don’t you think it’s funny that we are engaged and haven't so much as kissed yet?”

 Even through your haze you can see the way the blonde is looking at you. His eyes are hungry, like a predator eyeing up its prey. “I’ve been thinking about you like this for a long time, Y/N, by my side, taming you and your defiance.” Coriolanus slips off his shoes and begins unbuttoning his shirt as he climbs on top of you. “I’ve been eyeing you up for awhile, Y/N, before the arrangements, at the academy, the way you look in your uniform, the way you think outside of the box..” Slowly he begins shedding his shirt, his hands snaking their way up your thigh, hiking up your skirt. “And I see the way the other men in the capital look at you, young, beautiful, rich, pure as snow…you’re a very desirable girl.” He’s made his way to the top of your skirt, slowly pulling it down, leaving you in your top and lacey panties. Now shirtless, Coriolanus begins working at undoing his own pants, leaving him in nothing but boxers on top of you. You try moving your legs but they give up after a few tries. It takes all of your energy to fight to stay awake,your heads not spinning anymore, but even if you could move, Coriolanus would easily overpower you. “S-stop.” You muster out weakly, trying and failing to push him off you, your weak arms are pinned to your side quickly by his own. “I don’t like the thought of another man but your husband taking you, and I intend to fulfill my role as your husband before you retaliate.”

Using one hand, Coriolanus unbuttons your shirt, button by button you feel your cheeks heat up and a growing arousal in your panties throws you off. You had never been touched like this by anyone other than your own hands in the dead of night before. Coriolanus swears under his breath as he exposes the rest of you, eyes wandering back down to your panties. “I’ve known about you far longer than you have of me, Y/N. I’m ready to have a loving marriage w​​ith you, but you just need to accept me.” He trails off as he unclasps your bra, rambling more about how he couldn’t wait and all the long dinners with you were driving him mad. Now fully exposed and more out of it than ever you feel his hands cup your breast. His erection pressing hard against your stomach as he leans down for a desperate kiss. He’s rough, trying to take in as much of you as possible.. Panting, his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, you feel your own wetness as you feebly rub your thighs together, weakly and with as much force as you can you push on his shoulders so he is sitting up straddling you. You tell yourself it’s to get him off of you, but in reality if so he’ll give attention to the rest of your body and not just your now abused lips. Coriolanus has the eyes of a madman as he quickly sheds his boxers and pulls down your panties. Using his thumb to tease your clit, you jolt slightly. Feeling foreign hands on you was a strange yet pleasurable experience. “Corio..” your soft moan of his name made him all the more possessive of you. He wanted to only ever hear you say his name in such a way, and he wanted to hear more of it. Taking out his hard cock, he lined it up with your entrance.  Coriolanus leaned back down, kissing you much more softly as he pushed into your virgin cunt. You moan into the kiss as you feel his cock pushing into you. “God, you’re so tight, you were made for me.” He moaned, head spinning Coriolanus wasn’t sure when, but he was holding your hips down as he fucked you, the way your breast bounced and your hair fell in your face as you moaned his name in breathy gasps made his head spin. “Corio-ah, fuck, Coriolanus..” Your meek voice just made him want to fuck you harder, to draw out more symphonies of his name, to make it known to not just you, but the world that you were Y/N Snow, and nobody except him could take you this way.  In between moaning your assailant's name and begging for more, you had a few moments of clarity, where you knew this was wrong but your body betrayed you. Moving on instinct you lift your legs towards your chest, begging to take the blondes’ cock deeper into you. In Coriolanus’s mind, you were begging for him to make you his, for him to not just claim you in name, but claim a life, a life that both of you created. Slamming your hips against his own Corio could feel himself coming undone, letting out breathy moans of your name you felt his hot cum spilling inside of you, begging for your own release which soon followed. Coriolanus fell on top of you, feebly keeping himself stable above you before rolling over to look at you. Rosy cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat cover you as your hair curls and frames your face in an almost angelic way. You were exhausted, trying to think but coming up blank, the drug affect starting to weigh on you, you allow yourself to block out the blonde lying next to you and let your heavy eyes close, drifting off to an inviting deep sleep while Corio stares at you, content with himself and that you’ll never be able to leave him now, especially with the child he and you would have, tying you to him forever.

[fatefulfaerie]

a huge congratulations on the 1K followers, how amazing! 🥳🥳

for the prompt, (botw!) Zelda discovers something unexpected about Link, and celebrates it in the best way she can. Any rating is cool. Have fun and write something that makes you happy. 🤗

A YEAR AND A HALF LATER

I apologize for being SO LAZY about getting around to this I honestly have no excuse. Was super fun when I finally got around to it! And yes, as promised, it is exactly 1,000 words.

Attraction

Princess Zelda had become no more than a tourist attraction. If Hyruleans were lucky, they were at the cathedral on a day where the princess was actively praying to the second-largest goddess statue in Hyrule. If you sit and wait, maybe she'll awaken her power right in front of you.

Guests weren't allowed to talk, but she could always hear their whispers. This was a cathedral far more grand than even the Temple of Time, and thus far more proficient at producing echoes. If they weren't whispering about the grandiose architecture, they were whispering about her. 

Sometimes they would comment at her elegance, the way she knelt without moving, whether it was really her or just another statue. Most of the time it was the disappointed "let's move on" from tourists who had opted to sit and see if the sealing power would indeed awaken for their waiting eyes.

However, Zelda could tell that days spent praying in the cathedral weren't grueling for only her.

Link had to deal with all of this whilst standing.

"Are your feet okay?" She asked once, on their way back to the castle. "From all the standing?"

Link shrugged, his standard response.

Zelda didn't know how to help him even if he had complained. It was like they were performing roles on a stage. How else will Hyrule know that the princess is seeking out her birthright sealing power and her knight attendant has the Master Sword in hand and at the ready?

But surely he must have been bothered. There was one time when Zelda saw him coming out of her father's study uncharacteristically miffed. Did he complain to the King? What came of it? He still had his job, though. Not that you could dismiss the knight who pulled the sword that seals the darkness.

"Can I ask..." Zelda prompted. "What did you talk to my father about?"

Link didn't answer at first, continuing to walk at his same stride. It was as if he didn't hear her, but she knew he did.

"Was it about the cathedral?" She continued. "Did you ask for a chair? That's not unreasonable."

"I asked for us to stop going to the cathedral."

It was sudden, and Zelda found herself surprised at how forward that was of him. Going to the cathedral was not only seen as progress towards activating the sealing power, but also a large part of their public presence.

"I...I'm sorry, what?"

Link stopped and turned.

"I'm tired, Zelda."

Zelda's heart sank.

"Is it your feet? Your back? This is why I asked."

"No, not tired like that I..."

Link looked around a tad before stepping closer.

"Don't you hear them?" He whispered. "The way they talk about you? It's not right."

Zelda needed to stop for a second, to parse the sincerity in his face and make sure she was understanding. She scanned his eyes, his brow, the way it creased in rising anger. She opened her mouth to respond and nothing came out.

"Your father doesn't like it either," Link continued in her silence. "But there wasn't much he could do. Well, he could do a lot but-"

"You went to my father because you're tired of the gossip-mongers?"

Link nodded.

If it wouldn't add more fuel to the fire, she would have kissed him. A month ago she was asking for another knight attendant and now she'd come to realize she likely had the very best one.

Zelda hugged him, and it was like Link had never been hugged before the way he stumbled back with his arms out. Eventually, he reciprocated. Holding her to him.

Link had barely gotten used to it before Zelda enthusiastically ripped herself from the hug and took his hand.

“Come on,” she said, with a malicious smirk Link didn’t trust. “I have an idea.”

Link was tugged along, forced to start at an awkward pace that was partly walking and partly jogging as Zelda went into the heart of Castle Town.

“Zelda this is not a good idea,” Link said at half a whisper as they passed the fountain, citizens starting to spot and recognize them. 

He could only imagine the fire that would run rampant tomorrow, the flame-like gossip that Zelda and Link were shirking their goddess-given duties. Two teenagers acting their age had the potential to throw the entire kingdom into disarray.

Zelda led Link to turn around a corner regardless. She knocked without hesitation on a homely wooden door and Link inhaled to forewarn her that it was very late in the night and that she couldn’t just–

“Your Highness!” The woman who had opened the door looked honored, yet no stars struck her face. She was used to the presence of the princess. “Come in! Come in!”

Link barely got a glimpse of the forty-something brunette before she had flocked to a kettle, readying tea for the princess and her guest.

“I was hoping you could do some work on Link here,” Zelda said, not needing to project her voice very far across the small hovel. 

“Work?” Link asked nervously. “What do you mean work? I need work?”

“I’m assuming this is the knight attendant you’ve told me all about,” the woman said, coming over with a tray that boasted a particularly ornate teapot and three teacups.

“I’m talked about?”

“Yes, he is,” Zelda said, pointedly letting Link flounder in confusion. “I can pay his way if needed.”

She shook her head

“It’s my honor to massage the knight with the sword that seals the darkness.”

“Massage?” Link parsed. “A massage?”

“Tavra comes up to the castle bimonthly to massage me as well as the King,” Zelda explained. “She also massages walk-ins here at her home. I figured it might help. Surely you have a lot of tension.” 

The idea of Zelda describing his muscles in any way made him blush, and Link agreed to get massaged so that he’d have a chance to hide it from the princess.

[fazedlight]

Sapphic Media Roundup

My last reblog reminded me: I've been trying to watch more wlw ship media recently, perhaps in part hoping that I'll latch onto an ongoing fandom instead of joining after the show ends (like with Supergirl 😂). So far on the list that I've tried...

Arcane - Absolutely loved the show, and definitely loved caitvi as a ship. It didn't leave the holes in my heart that drive me to continue the story, though, so I doubt I'll write here (other than continuing the smut scene).

Agatha All Along - Absolutely fantastic show. And a delicious ship (though the ship isn't quite central in my head). I wrote a few ficlets, but otherwise feel satisfied with it. Looking forward to whatever happens next with these characters.

Hawkeye - Just finished watching this and loved it! I absolutely adore both Kate and Yelena as characters. Though I don't think I ship them.

Wicked - Was a HUGE fan of the musical growing up, though I didn't see the characters as gay ("they're straight, just like I am!"). Haven't seen the movie yet, but given that I already know the musical and the book, I don't think this'll spark anything.

Hazbin Hotel - Chaggie, my beloved 🥺 I have a ficlet/small one shot idea that might eventually make its way out. But I don't think I'll write a ton of fics here. I am VERY MUCH looking forward to the next season though!

House of the Dragon - Okay, guys, you can tar and feather me. I think the show's plots are really cool, and Rhaenyra and Alicent are both interesting and infuriating characters at various points (same with the others), but I don't actually ship them. I feel I have betrayed my people, I'm sorry 😭. In any case, I finished S1, but don't plan to continue with S2. It's just too dark a show for me (both in topic, and because they still haven't learned how to light a night scene since GoT).

Wednesday - Absolutely fucking adored this show, and eagerly awaiting season 2. Couldn't get into wenclair as a ship, though - nor either canon ship in the dumb love triangle - because Wednesday strikes me as very aroace. (Watched a while ago.)

She-Ra - Fantastic show and ship. This was a lot like Xena, in that it was so close to perfectly crafted that I don't want to touch it, despite loving it a ton. (Also watched a while ago.)

Warrior Nun - Decent show and decent ship. I don't have it in me to write a season 3, and there aren't holes in earlier seasons that I want to explore. (Also watched a while ago.)

Legend of Korra - Absolutely loved the show and Korra herself. I liked the romance with Asami, though she was much less of a main character than I thought from how people spoke of her, so I think I found myself a little disappointed with canon there.

Rizzles - Watching this show is actually what got me really reading fanfic (around May 2021). I bet I would've written for this ship had I thought about writing earlier, but I wouldn't think about writing until the next year. Love them.

Maybe trying at some point:

Grey's Anatomy/Station 19 - I actually used to watch both until the pandemic, which was right around when marina got started. I love both characters individually and could totally see them together, so maybe I should catch up 😂

ALOTO - I watched an episode or two and couldn't get into it. But this happens a lot with me, so I may give it another try.

OUAT - I've actually seen this in the entirety before. But I'm curious if I'll see any chemistry around Emma and Regina if I rewatch it (I didn't the first time). This ship feels like the closest cousin to supercorp, in terms of seeing it on tumblr, so I might want to give it a conscious shot.

[sophieinwonderland]

im a bit nervous to say this cause i really dont involve myself in tulpa discourse other than stating im accepting of tulpas, but its my understanding in life that people can't own actions. yes certain cultures and religions may have their specific way of doing something and make it their own, but that doesn't mean they own that action, they own the way they do the action. (im using own kinda liberally im not trying to imply they have some sort of legal ownership lol) but so with tibetan buddhist tulpamancy (i cant for the life of me remember the word they actually use) they dont own the concept of creating another entity in your mind or "self" but they do own the way they do it and their beliefs attached to it. im trying to relate this to something but i cant think of any analogies that would be as specific as this, and i dont want any anti-tulpas to see my general example and think im comparing to very different things.

Yeah, I think tulpacourse can be pretty difficult to wade through sometimes. Personally, I'm not entirely sure I even agree with the concept of owning your own beliefs. Even in a figurative way. Aside from, maybe, actually totally closed cultures.

I see beliefs as things that are meant to be shared, adapted, or sometimes even torn apart and scavenged for scraps. And sometimes, I do think the way these things happen might be offensive to some people who feel connected to them.

I don't really feel like this applies in the case of tulpamancy at all because I think it's so far divorced from Tibetan Buddhism as to not share any beliefs with it whatsoever.

But this was something I thought about a lot during the whole thing about God being plural. Because there, I'm playing directly with people's very sacred and personal beliefs. And I'm doing so in a way that some people are going to find offensive.

And the thing I decided is that... I don't feel like Christians have ownership over their beliefs. Not in a way that they would get to dictate who can use them or how they're used.

Yes, they can complain if they find something offensive or blasphemous. And some will do that very loudly. But I don't think I should feel obligated to avoid offending people either.

Especially when Christianity is itself based on Judaism. In fact, basically every old religion is a permutation of a permutation of a permutation, dating back thousands of years to religions which would look very differently from anything that's practiced today.

And I also think again on certain practices that some might consider offensive, such as the conversation on Godspouses where some people believe they both can communicate and marry certain deities. I don't see that people from those religions have any sort of right to police the beliefs of others. They can be offended by godspouses if they want. But that doesn't mean the godspouses are somehow in the wrong for their beliefs and experiences nor should they feel obligated to change how they worship and connect to their deities to please others.

...

As a side note, there was another fun note to come out of the tulpa AMA that I wanted to share. Michael Lifshitz is working with a scholar of Tibetan Buddhism to write an article on the practice tulpamancy was based on, going over texts that have never been translated to English!

So that's something pretty cool to look forward to! 😁

[olderthannetfic]

Tumblr seems to be sliding in a downward spiral, and it feels like the start of the end of a fandoming era for me. I've been through it before; platforms are born then die, and life fandom finds a way. I'm just not looking forward to floundering for a bit, and dreading what the next hub will look like.

AO3 isn't really a place geared or meant for the same thing, and that's fine. My only fandom-related activity took place on AO3 only for a few years between my leaving LJ and joining Tumblr, and I lived ;-) But during that time, I was my own little island in fandom. Reading, leaving a few comments, not being super active. It's only when I found a community again that I was back to being really active in fandom once more.

And it's not that I actually use Tumblr to post about myself, but I do use it to read and reblog cool things - art, gifsets, science stuff, discovering new fandoms, and the like. I'm not sure where else I could find my people, with sameish purposes. The other sites I've tried didn't fill that niche in a way that suited me, in part because of how they look and work, in part because of who and what is(n't) there.

I have DW & PF accounts just to be safe, but I'm not very fond of group chats Discord-style - and without Tumblr, IDK how I'd even hear of new communities where I might pop in once in a while, loins girdled and everything. The micro-blogging platforms are not what I'm looking for either. Sure, I can follow a few DW comms and blogs; I already occasionally do and I will be more consistent about it if I must.

But one of my greatest fear is that the next platform will be phone-based, app-only, or some such BS - and that is something I just won't be able to deal with. Phones are tiny, it's uncomfortable to write anything, I don't like touch screen and much, much prefer a proper keyboard and a mouse (copy-pasting on a screen? (x_x) << it me), art/pics are too small to properly appreciate, a phone isn't comfy to hold for a long time for me, and the app system means you have no control over anything as a user… and that anything there must be Apple Approved, dick-free, blood-free, and tasteless. And I say this as someone who's pretty much uninterested in sex IRL or in my entertainment ;-) I still support and want the tits, the gore, the everything, and as long as I have the tools to curate - oh, wait. Curate things myself? That's not something that's popular these days, is it? It's not going to generate money, if I'm happy ;-)

So… I guess I'll play some more on Neocities, and see if anyone wants to have webrings again? (it would be fun and nostalgic, but not really viable on a large scale; people who haven't known those would just laugh and point and go on the InstaTok of the time).

So here is my little cane-waving rant of the day! I know things evolve and change and that in ten years I'll be rolling my eyes at my moping. It's only that I feel tired of moving from one shitty platform to another, of fearing I won't adapt (or more accurately won't want to adapt given the annoyance/benefit ratio) to whichever new place things will move in a few years. It's saying goodbye to a former home, moving, and hoping you'll make another home elsewhere kind of sniffles today!

--

We already know the next platform. It has been Discord for a few years now.

If you want the one after Discord, I think you're looking at waiting things out for quite a few years (or until Discord makes a major misstep as a company).

True, real time chat is not for everyone, but small discords with well-chosen channels can operate more asynchronously. Just like a lot of people who hated the look of Tumblr early on eventually capitulated, a lot of chat haters have jumped ship to Discord already.

Realistically, 90% of fandom always goes where the action is, no matter how much they claim the features make that space impossible, and 10% disappears.

We might get the 10% back on the next platform or they might leave fandom for good. There were LJ-haters who resurfaced post LJ era.

But as for where you'll find out where people are... probably AO3 author's notes.

[slightlystupidhun]

Niente

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

A band AU I’m writing! Sorry if it’s bad! There is no magic in this universe, just music! @puffin-smoke did an amazing Redacted Band AU that you should check out too!

Niente; To nothing; indicating a diminuendo which fades completely away…

It was a cool fall evening in the shaw household, the lights of the house emitting a warm feeling from the outside. It had been half a year since Gabriel Shaw took Tank in. Their parents had dropped them off to study with David and just never came to pick them up. Tank remembers so vividly how the phone rang, and rang, and rang but no one picked up. Gabe refused to let them leave on their own so he took them in, they were just a few months away from turning 18.

Tank had not intended to join the “family” band either. It was more of something that happened to them. One day while paroling the house they saw that one of David's old electric guitars was left out in the living room. The black guitar with red paint splattered on it, giving the impression of blood, was so appealing to Tank they simply couldn't resist. They had practiced acoustic guitar, but had little experience on electric. They only remembered what little their father taught them when he attempted to play, the instrument never sounding right in his hands.

They picked it up, it was already plugged into the amp, and looked around the room. Pausing for a moment, waiting to hear if anyone had come into the house, they were pleased to find that they were still home alone. David and Gabe left for a meeting for their band. David was the drummer, Asher was the singer, and Milo played bass. Their old electric guitarist, Asher's sister, left for a different band. The first few notes they strummed on the guitar sent electricity through their veins. They strummed again, becoming obsessed with the sound. It fully represented them, their thoughts, feelings, their whole being. They began strumming out the chords to an AC/DC song their dad tried playing, thunderstruck. It was the a simple standard they knew how to play on electric.

The music soared from the guitar and filled the room. Tank started playing with the strings and improving their own melodies. They were so wrapped up in the song that they didn't hear Gabe and David enter the house. They didn't see the pair walk into the living room. The sound enveloping the house was completely theirs, like they owned the instrument. No one could replicate the way they played. Even if they weren't perfect at it they were still so alluring.

As Tank strummed the last chord on the guitar, Gabe stepped forward and applauded. Their head snapped up, fiery eyes meeting his warm ones. A slight blush spread across their face and they quickly stepped away and set the guitar on the soft green couch next to them.

“I… I… sorry…” They mumbled out. “I wont touch it again…”

“No! Don’t say sorry. In fact, you were quite good. Ever played before now kid?” Gabe asked moving over to pick up David's old guitar.

“No… not really. I mean I've been playing acoustic guitar a little, or I used to with my da… with you know.” They kicked their feet on the hardwood floor..

“Well my band is looking for a guitarist. I'm sure Dad would be willing to teach you. He taught Asher's sister.” David said, nudging Tanker with his shoulder.

“Me?” Tank asked.

“Absolutely! I will! You’re in the band Tank!” Gabe cheers as he wraps an arm around Tank. “I’ll start teaching you tomorrow.”

That is how they ended up where they were now. On a large stage opening for a band that Tank has been a fan of for a while now. They were called Tooth&Fang. Tank was practically in love with Quinn, the lead singer. He was attractive and very, very charismatic.

As their set came to a close as David rattled the symbol one final time. The whole band waved as Asher yelled out one final time.

“Thank you everyone! We are DxW! You have a good night!” He and the band ran off stage, high fiving one another. Tank stood on the outside avoiding the three’s cheers.

“Hello~” A sly voice spoke into Tank's ear. Tanks eyes widened, immediately recognizing the voice. They pivoted to see the mischievous grin on the face of Quinn Fox, the lead singer they're practically in love with. “Well aren't you, a spitfire. You played that electric like a star, precious.”

Tank was on cloud nine. Quinn even offered to meet them in his dressing room after the show.

“No.” David said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in the alley way. The band was packing their equipment up in their van.

“What? Why not? He literally just wants to meet up!” Tank pleaded, waving their arms about.

“No. No super famous 28 year old rockstar wants to meet with a 19 year old, just to chat and hang out. I've heard about his reputation…”

“But you haven't seen his reputation have you. You haven't experienced it first hand. You have no idea whether or not it's true!” They pointed their finger into David's chest, knowing it would irritate him.

“Tank. No. And get your finger off my chest dumbass.” David's eyes lit up with anger.

“I'm going. I am 19 fucking years old. I am old enough to choose what I am gonna do with and where I am going to spend my time.” They pivoted on their heels and began walking back inside.

“Tank stop!” David yelled at them before crossing his arms and standing firm. “I’ll tell Dad.”

Those three words stopped Tanker in their tracks. Was he serious? He was going to rat on them and play tattle tail. Furrowing their brows and balling their hands into fists they walked back over to David. “I hate you.”

The next two days the only time Tank spoke to David was if he directed them to do something in the band. They were pissed off at him. How the hell was he able to control what they did? And the fact that he threatened them with telling Gabe. They continued to ignore him and mope around until their phone buzzed. They looked at their instagram feed and saw a message from Quinn_The_Vamp.

[xxlordalexanderxx]

[2024 is almost over!] I've been following you for a good long while now as you know and while we don't interact much, it's always a delight to see you online as Alexander has since become one of my favourite muses to admire from afar! His lore (and that of Xandora!) is absolutely fascinating in how much world building you've done, the number of characters there are in other muses and overall is really fun to watch develop. On an additional note, 2024's been a rough year for quite a few so I'm really hoping that 2025 is kinder both to you and the RPC in general, hopefully with less drama and more chill behaviour all around. Your OOC posts are a really good reminder in that this is just a hobby which should be fun for all and not taken too seriously. I'm hopeful that in 2025, I'll finally be brave enough to strike up a thread with you and Alexander but no pressure ofc! Keep being your cool self and exude those healthy boundaries! Looking forwards to another year of positivity and growth for Alexander and his kingdom of Xandora! ✨

2024 is almost over! 🍾

Thank you for this incredibly kind and uplifting ask.💜 I've always appreciated your engagement, regardless of whether we write much together or not, and I look forward to when you are up for doing something between our muses! Alexander is my pride and joy, and a comfort to delve into when I have the chance and energy.

I have a lot of plans for this blog in the future. I definitely want to get back into the swing of things, and I think I'm doing a fair job of that. This year has been very stressful and rough, both on and offline, but I've learned quite a bit as well.

I'm locking in as far as my boundaries go. I've had them breached way too many times, and I'm just adopting a "do no harm but take no shit" policy. I'm tired; I just want to write my blurbos, and I have zero tolerance for anyone's nonsense. I'm done being a people pleaser.

Now that things seem to be put to rest, I'm fully moving on and working on my growth here and elsewhere. I woke up one day and just felt my spark return for writing, building up my lore and characters, and improving my writing and art. I have so many OCs I want to introduce—some may even require their own blogs one day (or maybe even a multimuse, who knows?). But no promises, since I still have some life changes heading my way in 2025, to the point that I may take a massive break. I plan on relocating across the country late in the summer.

Either way, I'm looking forward to getting this place back to being as active as it was in 2023. Happy New Year to you and yours!⭐

[eurovision-del]

Portugal start their Eurovision selection tonight with the first semi final of Festival da Canção. This is another national final I always look forward to, so what did I make of this year's songs?

iolanda – Grito

João Borsch – Pelas Costuras

Rita Rocha – Pontos Finais

Bispo – Casa Portuguesa

MELA – Água

Huca – Pé de Choro

Rita Onofre – Criatura

Perpétua – Bem Longe Daqui

Nena – Teorias da Conspiração

Mila Dores – Afia a Língua

No Maka ft. Ana Maria – Aceitar

João Couto – Quarto Para Um

Maria João – Dia

LEFT. – Volto a Ti

Léo Middea – Doce Mistério

Buba Espinho – O Farol

FILIPA – You Can’t Hide

Cristina Clara – Primavera

Silk Nobre – Change

NOBLE – Memory

I generally enjoyed this selection – writing up a few notes on each song as I listen to help me rank them, the word I used more than any other was ‘interesting’ – usually as a compliment but occasionally not so much. However, aside from a couple of songs at the bottom that did not work for me, I enjoy the vast majority of songs here, but two stand out above the rest.

My absolute favourite is Grito. This is a fantastic song, dramatic without being melodramatic, sombre but never dull. I love the way it progresses, from the completely a cappella opening (which will be impressive if she can nail it live) building up to a climax on the titular cry at the end of the bridge, before drawing back for an ending that summarises the melancholic tone of the whole song. I love the melody on the chorus, the little repeated ‘ainda arde’ is beautiful and sticks in my mind. The overall sound here has an almost cinematic quality with the orchestration, it feels powerful, but also haunting at the same time. It’s a brilliant example of the sort of ballad I love.

I also really like Pelas Costuras – I knew I would before João even started singing with that guitar intro and immediate pulsing beat. It’s a very cool sound, and the descending melody gives it this dark colour which I love. I like the way it’s been produced, it’s got this gritty quality to it while also sounding polished and complete, and I love the tone of João’s vocals on the studio cut.

I really want one of those two to win. While there are plenty of other songs I enjoy, those two are so far ahead of the rest of the pack for me I’ll miss them if something else wins. Of course, my opinions could change if either fails to deliver live, but I’m really hoping they can both pull it off. Looking at the whole competition, the semis are really unbalanced in terms of how much I like the songs in each – in my entire top 10 there's only two from the second semi – not a great place to be in cause it means I'm definitely gonna loose some songs I like tonight, but on the other hand it means I’ve got a lot to look forward to in the show itself!

[queeenpersephone]

I know you already wrote Endgame by taylor for tonynat buuut how about something inspired by "you've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks so here's the truth from my red lips"? love your writing <3

hi love! so you're right, i did, and so i'm going to answer your prompt in a roundabout way (by spoiling that fic a little) hope you don't mind! here's part one of my end game fic <3

one.

O U R P R E S E N T F U T U R I S T

By Karen Page

“Mr. Stark, thank you for joining me this morning.”

The man himself, Anthony Edward Stark, sits across from me, legs crossed. His suit is neatly pressed, his hair perfect. There is a faint bruise along his jaw, but considering his latest fight is available on YouTube, I have no need to ask. He is riding on an immense victory of another kind, the revised Sokovia Accords having just been successfully pushed through the UN.

“The pleasure is all yours,” he snarks, but a quick grin that quirks at the edge of his mouth tells me it is in jest. The words are flirty, but his eyes stay either on mine or on his phone, which fills up with more messages every minute - I feel almost guilty keeping him, a feeling that I assure you is unfamiliar. It is almost surreal to be with the man who, for better or worse, ushered in the era of public superheroes in which we now live. I tell him so.

He doesn’t look surprised, instead giving me a wry, self-deprecating grin. “That sounds cool, doesn’t it? Really, I just can’t keep my damn mouth shut.”

“You have said a lot of controversial things over the years.”

Tony laughs, and it is contagious. I can’t help but smile back. “Yeah, well put me down as on the straight and narrow, will you?”

The Accords, I know, have to be a sore point, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t mention them. “You were the first signer of the Sokovia Accords. Do you ever regret the ‘straight and narrow,’ as you put it?”

Tony straightens a little, but his cool confidence remains. “The Accords have been subjected to a very thorough revising process, managed by two people I’d trust with my life.” He pauses, and I let him. “There are a lot of things I won’t say,” he tells me finally, “but no, I don’t regret it. We have a responsibility, and however we can fulfill it… well…”

“What do you mean?”

Tony thinks, then a soft smile crosses his face. “If we have one hand on the wheel,” he says, a level to his tone that makes me think he is quoting someone, “we can still steer.”

I decide to act on my hunch. “Your words?”

“Good catch,” he laughs. “No, the words of a woman far wiser than me.” He fumbles a little with his hands, twisting a plain, black ring on his fifth finger.

“And how is Miss Romanoff?” My hunches have not failed me yet. “Is she in the city?”

I am asking, of course, about his famous partner, the Black Widow. After a very public kiss on the tails of the Accords announcement, the media has been going crazy to discover the hows, whens, and whys of the whole affair. Details of their relationship are extremely rare, so I resolve to tread carefully.

“That’s classified,” he jokes, and though it is said as a joke, I also think it was the most serious thing he has said in the interview thus far. I would bet money that this man would not reveal his girlfriend’s location, even under the most extreme torture.

It’s clear that this line of investigation is not going to go anywhere, so I switch tracks. “How are these Accords different from the original documents, Mr. Stark?”

He just raises an eyebrow. “Read them, if you want to know,” he brushes off. Then he leans forward. “I care about my team - we’re gonna stick together because you never know when we’ll be needed. And that would be impossible with the way the Accords were written before the revisions.”

I nod. This isn’t new information. Many suspect that Tony Stark takes every opportunity to tell the public that the Avengers are needed, whole and ready to protect the Earth, so that his lost team members will know they are welcome back whenever they are ready.

“And are the Avengers ready? If they are needed?”

I don’t know why I expected Stark to take a while to answer this question, but it surprises me when he abandons his glances at his still-blowing-up phone, looking me straight in the eyes. I don’t even have written notes from this portion of the interview. I was completely captured by the man in front of me. He seems larger than life.

“The Avengers will always come together to defend the Earth. No matter how difficult it is. That’s the end game.” He leans back, and I do the same, released from that intensity, letting out an obvious exhale. Tony Stark just smirks, and in that moment, I realize that the Black Widow must be the only one who could ever handle him.

Still, he grins at me, and I smile back, immediately at ease when he wants me to be. “But my job is to make it as easy as possible. Thank you, Ms. Page.”

I know a dismissal when I hear one. And, without protest (which is very unlike me), I stand up and go.

(read more on page 4)

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Oh look! Another anon bully! Fuuuun 😂 Don't worry I blocked them but I thought this was too good to ignore!

Is it the trans thing making them say this? That I write fanfiction? Or just my looks? I'm confused but let's have some fun, yeah? I'm really not into sex shaming in ANY way.

The thing is, I've had way more than I probably should have and maybe this can be a helpful lesson here. I was actually really nervous posting that game, but y'all know I like to be honest with y'all just in case it can help!

I spent a long time hiding who I was to myself and everyone else. I'm mostly gray-ace besides fantasy, meaning I rarely actually enjoy myself but that's a scary thing to admit because it's so misunderstood and frowned upon. After being assaulted as a teenager and coming from a religious background I truly thought I was ruined. I won't go into the shame or the suicide attempts here because that's not what this is about but it was a very bad time for me. Especially after I miscarried a few months later. (Which by the way- Sept-Dec is the anniversary of all this so this was a PERFECT time of year for this BS)

It took me a few years to feel comfortable dating after that but when I did it was a boy that had issues with his parents so my parents allowed him to live under our roof. I was still having a lot of nightmares at the time so I was on heavy sedatives. One night my boyfriend at the time realized he could use that to his advantage. He wasn't the first obviously and he wasn't the last. I've been assaulted by multiple partners over my teen and young adult years. But because of that- I started sleeping with people before they could force or bully me into it and I went a little wild for about a decade.

I answered that game honestly, but not every answer was something I was happy to be a part of. Most of my experiences were bad. This bully was right in fact, I haven't had sex in a long time because I choose not to. When I do again it will be as my real self, with a deep and loving connection. I didn't used to have sex for love, I had sex to keep people around, to keep myself safe, or to try and feel something. I don't suggest it to anyone and I hope all of your sex lives are incredible and loving and safe.

I genuinely don't know if they were trying to say I couldn't get sex because that was never my problem and I hated it. It made me incredibly uncomfortable. If they don't like the looks of me then good for them, but I don't know why that was supposed to hurt me. I'm a grown adult with a past I'm not always proud of and so many stories I hope never get out. I'm also a trans guy that barely passes unless you're into fem boys so if you don't like me- that's cool! I rarely do either but that doesn't mean I won't post pics when I find a little confidence.

All of this isn't said to shame anyone else, if you can't tell, I'm totally happy there are people in the world who love consensual sex (Dom and Kells are wild boys and I love them), I'm just saying my experience is filled with a lot of darkness and very little light. I'm looking forward to having a healthy consensual loving relationship someday but it will be as myself and until I can have that I'm choosing not to do anything else. When I finally started saying no to my ex it was one of the proudest moments of my life and knowing I'm finally emotionally strong enough to protect myself feels incredible.

But I'm sure this was just trying to imply I'm unattractive or a loser so I probably should have just focused on that. Oh no! I'm so hurt! My nonexistent pride is wounded 💔 I must now shut up for good about everything! Honestly whatever is wrong with them that makes them need to hurt others I feel very sorry for. I hope they feel better soon and I hope all of you have a lovely day! I wish you all incredible loving relationships, whether with a partner, multiple partners, or just yourself! Stay safe! Love you all 🖤

[49436]

Taking on @batmanisagatewaydrug 's 2025 Book Bingo (along with my wife & housemate, so it's now on our fridge. Taking me back to summer reading lists from the library)

I tend to work down my to-read list in order, unless there's something I really want to get to, so most of this list is 'what's the first thing I'll hit that fills the criteria'. But some books earn the right to skip the line, for one reason or another.

Going for a full board, which means actual bingo might take a minute lol

List below-

Literary Fiction - TBD

Short Story Collection - Friday Black by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah. Chain-Gang All Stars was on my top 10 from 2024 so even though short stories and I don't tend to get along, this one I'm excited about. Will also try Drinking From Graveyard Wells by Yvette Lisa Ndlovu

Sequel - Either A Victory of Eagles by Naomi Novik or Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao. A matter of which one I get first; My library doesn't have physical copies of Heavenly Tyrant yet, and my wife owns all of Temeraire, so it might win.

Childhood Favorite - Might be Watership Down by Richard Adams, which is always a banger, but I reread Watership just a couple years ago, so it might be The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander instead, which I read many times with my mom and still have the whole series of.

20th Century Speculative Fiction - TBD

Fantasy - A Taste of Honey by Kai Ashante Wilson. I read so much fantasy, BUT I already have A Taste Of Honey on my side table. So here we are.

Published Pre-1950 - The Iliad (and The Odyssey) translated by Emily Wilson. Heard a lot of noise about her translation, and haven't read these two since... idk but it's been over a decade. Also going to hop on the Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier train.

Indie Publisher - The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms trilogy by N.K. Jemisin. I read a LOT of indie publishers and Jemisin if one of my all-time favorite writers. I've been putting off this series for a time I can really get into it and burn down all three.

Graphic Novel - Dorohedoro by Q Hyashida. Currently on volume 8, will probably finish the series in the next week or two. Love love love Hyashida's work

Animal on the cover - Plague Dogs by Richard Adams. Despite my aforementioned childhood obsession with Watership Down I never got around to Plague Dogs. Looking forward to it!

Set in a country I've never visited - TBD

Sci-Fi - Another genre I'll read a thousand of in a year. Currently I have Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie on my side table (which I fear may be mid, but time will tell) I'm also VERY excited to read The Spare Man by Mary Robinette Kowal

2025 Debut Author - TBD

Memoir - Love Is An Ex-Country by Randa Jarrar. Memoirs aren't usually my thing, but this one made it's way onto my to-read list last year so this is good motivation.

Zine - TBD. Browsing all the other posts from people doing this challenge for recs

Essay Collection - How To Read Now by Elaine Castillo. Literally the only essay collection on my to-read list and it jump scared me. Thought for sure this would a TBD, but How To Read Now should be interesting.

2024 Award Winner - TBD. Will trawl award lists when I have time

Non-Fiction - Facing the Wave: A Journey in the Wake of the Tsunami by Gretel Ehrlich. Specifically chose something that doesn't also count as social justice/activism, which is most of my non-fiction reads. I've found a real appreciation for good non-fiction the last few years (Everyone go read Swimming to Antarctica by Lynne Cox). Learning stuff is cool!

Social Justice/Activism - Everything you Love Will Burn: Inside the Rebirth of White Nationalism in America by Vegas Tenold. Excited for this one.

Romance - TBD. Tend to read romance that's also another genre (romantasy side eye at myself) so I've inevitably got one on my list. But maybe Akwaeke Emezi will write another romance and sweep me off my feet.

Recipe - Steak wrap pinwheels. My wife has been watching Food Truck Race (lol. lmao even) and one of the contestants made these. Stealing the idea with impunity.

Horror - Fever House by Keith Rosson. I've got a rich vein of horror novels on my to-read list, but this will be one of the first.

Published in the Aughts - TBD I'm old. I read of lot of 00's work.

Historical Fiction - Velvet Was The Night by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Is the 70's historical? I think the 70's is historical now. One of the final 3 books of Moreno-Garcia's I haven't read, and she's never let me down. Might read another Phryne Fisher Mystery or two as well, because they're quick and fun.

Librarian recommendation - TBD. I love my library and there's a few librarians who know me, will have to ask their opinions. Talking to a person! Not just taking one off the recommended shelf! Wild!

[superheroclock]

The Super Hero Clock Story And Pusheen's Valentine

-Posted on the original website on: February 20, 2019

After the HTTYD anime video I was really looking forward and excited about continuing the SHC series story and maybe write another episode or two, and maybe even start working on episode 3. But then, it was late December. It was the regular year-end holiday season with big holidays like New Year's Day, Lunar New Year and Valentine's Day happening in a row from then until mid February. Out of these holidays, one of them has been on my watch for years - Valentine's Day.

I've always wanted to do a Valentine's day video but had not been able to come up with a suitable story for a Valentine's Day animation. I even thought of a romantic spin-off of the story of St. Valentine and how Valentine's Day started back in the day but I did not go with that because I had doubts about that one. It was kinda a meh-ish lame anime imo tbh. However, this Valentine's, I finally came up with (or could I say found) the perfect Valentine's Day story for the occasion - Pusheen's Valentine.

I know it doesn't sound epic or cool or anything, and you might think it's childish, but it was the perfect idea, I think, because Pusheen is an adorable figure and I found out that people do get Pusheen merchandise as Valentine's Day gifts. That was when I decided that my Valentine's Day special animation would be about Pusheen the Cat's Valentine. Valentine's only happens once a year. It was either now or wait for another year. I went with the former and the next one and half months was officially the first animation crunch time of 2019, which explains why there is still no new Super Hero Clock stuff. However, while animating Pusheen's Valentine, I snuck in some shades of SHC characters in the Pusheen world. If you guys have watched the video and know the SHC characters, you might have noticed them.

Honestly, I did that because I was too lazy to come up with custom character designs for the humans in the video which were not a crucial part of it. Besides, it just feels unfair for the SHC fans that there hasn't been any substantial new SHC stuff since episode 2. So yea. I'm just doing a Pusheen fan animation. Why not?

And hey I even did a wardrobe cameo! (You'll only notice if you've watched SHC episode 2 tho.)

So now that those holidays are done for the year, (hopefully) I can sit down and work on the Super Hero Clock story. It's gonna be a good relief from working on the past two fan animations because there will be no round animals or dragons that behave like dogs. Personally, I'm much more comfortable with human designs and the anime genre. While I continue the SHC story, enjoy the cuteness!

Oh and by the way, if you've read my previous blog post or have completely missed, I published this on Youtube during Christmas. Check it.

[lu-zijing]

Hahah, SO Glad to hear that-!!!✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ 

YOU'VE BEEN CRAZY WITH WINGS TOO!!!? My dear friend—

"fuckers, I can make that REALITY"

- I love you for that one sentence—

---

I see! So it IS gonna follow the canon timeline, (as well, as you can with Chuuya having wings ofc--)) Excitingggg-!!!

Haah, I understand the setup can be a bit annoying on rewatch-(￣▽￣)"

I must admit I'm confused on the "Soukoku reunion where Chuuya has feathers" bit though 🤔

Ahhh 😅  I meant your banner picture -is that what it's called in Tumblr?- in your blog! At least in the canon show, wasn't that the scene where Dazai and Chuuya met for the first time, in what, four years? After Dazai left the PM.

Don't know if that's how it's gonna be in your AU ofc though!! Looking really forward to finding out...!!

"And seriously? Really??? I'm surprised! I'm sure theres alot of fics that go by the timeline, I especially have run into cough ones which I liked which are specifically smut related....."

Really? Perhaps on Ao3? Tbh it's only recently I started using Ao3, I've always used Wattpad to read fanfics and stuff like that.

And hmm cough while I don't have anything directly against smut cough, it's not exactly what I'm looking for either-

Thanks for telling though!

"And I do usually look to peoples accounts who follow me (especially those who find interest in a SURPRISING amount of my stuff XD) so yeah, that's why and I found some GOOD stuff on your account too, so that's REALLY awesome."

THANK YOU!✨ ✨ I usually do that as well, so finding another blog who does it is kinda cool-!!!!

"Talk to me any time! Dm me, reblog and talk to me that way, use replies, whatever the fuck! I love talking to people, and this was genuinely fun to write. :]"

REallY!!!? and I just felt like I got VIP status or something even though I'm sure it counts for many--(￣▽￣)" But stillll-!! Thank You!✨ ✨ 

I sure will! Perhaps as I proceed into your story, have questions or just something else!

Im really glad you liked my ask/"statement"! This was really fun to read as well..! Thank you again✨ !

"[undisclosed plot device]" :

That is one hell of a cool way to avoid spoilers✨-- That what it is, right? Nooo waiiiit- dirty mind stop imagining things--

I. ABSOLOUTLY. ADORE YOUR IDEA WITH YOUR AU SO MUCHhhhhaaaaah!! ✨✨✨✨🖤🖤

Chuuya having WINGS!!? Even though he could in somee way fly before already, it feels so different with wings!! Like really cool!!

(( I have always Liked wings -

Is your AU going to follow the main time-line of the show? Like, the illustrations you've posted sure does look like it-- (love them- love this idea-) ((Soukoku Reunion where Chuuya has feathers!!? ✨)

Wait, wait, wait, No- dont spoil anything..! (maybe just a little yes or no- that wouldn't really spoil anything—) I will find out as I read—!

I mainly wanted to say I'm really looking forward to reading this!!

It's my first BSD AU where it follows the main time-line - just differently- as well! A thing I really like!!

Well, if it really does ofc, but It sure does look like it—Arg, I gotta just continue reading soon——

Even if it don't this seems really interesting already!!!

Ahem, anyhow, this became a bit long- I wanted to expres my excitement about this-especially after, you even looked at some of my BSD stuff after I followed you!!!!

Thank you soo much!✨ That became the last push to write this little too long text, that isn't really a question, but more like a thank you-ahh im excited for this-- that I had already considered writing to you after I started reading😅😅👍

This entire post just made my day and while I could I'd rather not risk dying from lightheadedness from spinning too fast in excitement in my spinny chair XDDDDD THANK YOU SO MUCH

I can't express how embarrassed I am just fshfhsgshgsghshg I have been CRAZY for wings for AGES now, and I just saw soooo many posts about how "what if Chuuya could fly Dazai" I thought, fuckers, I can make that REALITY And it is going to follow the main timeline of the show just...alot differently but at the same time trying really hard to stick to the normal plot In hindsight that means I must suffer with all my energy to watch the first season of bsd (When I first watched BSD, the first episodes were for setup, and rightfully so. That all made sense, it really put the characters together. But I watched it a second time and it dragged ON and ON and I COULDN'T STAND IT UNTIL CHUUYA CAME TO GRAB DAZAI gARgHHrhgh). I must admit I'm confused on the "Soukoku reunion where Chuuya has feathers" bit though 🤔 And currently during the plot I'm writing I have to improvise ALOT from what I know, and really this fic is also whatever the fuck I wanna write with whatever writing style I have on hand slapped into each 1K chapter so I'm really trying here LOL Also the fact when [undisclosed plot device] will be introduced, I'll be writing seperate smut for [undisclosed plot device] because I can then do WHATEVER I want wITHOUT any repercussions Hopefully I can add in [undisclosed plot device] just in a way that people will understand. Though I hear that Beast Dazai also came across [undisclosed plot device] at one point :D

I'm going SO offtopic here LMFAO And seriously? Really??? I'm surprised! I'm sure theres alot of fics that go by the timeline, I especially have run into cough ones which I liked which are specifically smut related..... and I go back to off topic I'm sorry LMAO But I'm sosoosososo glad you like it! It just means alot to me you wrote alot and now I'm just ranting because you've shown genuine interest without going off the rails (as far as I've seen) so this is pretty cool for me too!!! And I do usually look to peoples accounts who follow me (especially those who find interest in a SURPRISING amount of my stuff XD) so yeah, that's why and I found some GOOD stuff on your account too, so that's REALLY awesome. Talk to me any time! Dm me, reblog and talk to me that way, use replies, whatever the fuck! I love talking to people, and this was genuinely fun to write. :]

[solalunar-eclipse]

SYCS - 1 Year Anniversary

Chapter title: Set In Stone

Word count: about 4000 words

Next

Author’s Note: On July 26, 2020, I posted the first chapter of Scars You Can’t See. One year later, I’ve written five stories of varying lengths and am currently working on a sixth (wow)! My writing’s come a long way since then, and a lot of my improvement is thanks to everyone who encourages me to continue said writing, whether it’s through likes, reblogs, or comments. Thank you all so much for your support so far! :)

This is a rewrite of the very first chapter of SYCS, since the original could use a little fixing. Some important notes: I’ve edited a few parts of the story to be more in character, Chapter 2 starts in a different place after this updated version, and I’ve also fixed up chapter 13 because apparently I forgot to finish the motif I started?? Somehow??? At least I remembered eventually...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the (revised) story!

Before, Shadow had always been able to just ignore what it meant to work for G.U.N.

He’d managed somehow to convince himself to brush aside the fact that the soldiers he worked with (had been coerced into working with) wore the same uniforms as those who killed Maria, his dear sister and first friend. To push away any idea that he couldn’t deal with serving the same organization that had once wanted him dead. (It was the only way to stay with his friends, of course he could deal.)

The same thing went for using guns during the Black Arms invasion- even though he’d had amnesia, he remembered enough that he’d needed to rely on adrenaline near constantly just to make it through those times. Despite this, he had still taken the better part of a month to recover afterwards.

His memories of that day were particularly fresh for a while.

Once the invasion had been successfully repelled, G.U.N. had hired him to work for them very rapidly, as a matter of fact. During the process, some of the people along the way strongly suggested that if the organization wasn’t able to keep an eye on him, then…well, then they’d be very displeased. 

Shadow knew all too well that you did not want G.U.N. displeased with you.

The hybrid felt nothing but exhausted as these thoughts whirled through his head for the hundredth time. They’d only become a major problem recently, ever since the military organization had begun to require him to resume using guns on his missions. Every single time he touched one, the cold steel left his palms slick inside his gloves and made his head swim with flashes of memories too often repressed. Still, he had to use them- he’d be taken off missions entirely if he refused, and Shadow would never leave Rouge and Omega in the lurch like that.

However, his mental health had been growing ever worse these past few weeks as a result. He thought (hoped) he’d done a good job of hiding it from Rouge and Omega, but Shadow had been sparring with Sonic noticeably less. The hybrid had struggled with the idea of inflicting more violence on others in his spare time, and the hero had asked him about it several times, trying to figure out the reason for his sudden change in behavior.

Shadow shook his head, pushing his doubts and worries away just as he always had before. He couldn’t allow himself to become distracted by his thoughts- they might spill over into missions if he wasn’t careful. Forcing himself to focus on his schedule for the day and nothing else, he walked out of his room to take on whatever might come his way.

…

He was skating through the halls of an old, decrepit building (currently being used as a hideout by Eggman) on a mission. A robot stepped into his path.

Shadow hadn’t used his weapon yet on this assignment. He remembered the thinly veiled threat after his first refusal- we may have to remove you from missions if you cannot handle this responsibility- and felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck.

He shut his eyes, whipped out the firearm, and pulled the trigger. Flinching at the sound out of instinct, he refused to open his eyes until the gun was away, when he didn’t have to see it anymore. The robot lay on the ground, a smoking hole in its center. He tried to ignore the lingering sensation of the G.U.N. logo embossed on the handgrip in his palm.

Shadow felt the floor tilt for a moment under him before he regained his bearings.

He refused to look at the machine as he rushed by.

…

The exhausted hedgehog curled up in bed at night, unable to keep himself from hearing gunshots over and over and over. He fought against the memories of that day, refused to let them spill over into his thoughts.

Yet despite his best efforts, he knew he’d dream of it again tonight. He knew that he’d wake up screaming with her name in his mouth and the sight of blood still burned into his eyes. It had happened every night since he’d received the weapon.

Shadow swallowed down his fearful apprehension over what would come next. He forced himself to breathe deeply, to close his eyes, even though he wished to do the exact opposite. Dreams were not real. He could not let them hold power over him.

But still, he shivered as he tried to fall asleep.

…

He and Omega were standing in the center of a courtyard, broken badnik scrap lying all around them. This mission was supposed to be easy, just a simple in-and-out. Take out the bots, grab the intel, and go.

Rouge had asked them to cover for her as she searched for information in the abandoned computers alone. Shadow hadn’t liked the idea of leaving her alone but agreed grudgingly anyway.

He looked down at the firearm he held in his hands and tried his hardest not to cringe.

Flashes of memories threatened to surface again, of escape pods and gunshots and too much blood-

“Shadow.”

He jumped, not expecting Omega’s loud voice so suddenly.

“Yes, what is it?”

“You have been distracted for nearly ten minutes. Are you unwell?”

Shadow sighed, projecting a relaxed attitude. “Everything is fine. I was simply thinking.”

“About what?” Omega asked curiously.

“Nothing much.”

Silence descended upon the two again for a minute. 

“Shadow.” the E-series robot repeated.

“What.” he snapped, sounding more irritated than he’d intended.

“Tell me what you were thinking about. You looked distressed.”

“I’m fine, alright?” Shadow insisted. “Just- forget it, Omega.”

Omega stepped closer. “Past experience has informed me that you tend to hide important thoughts from others. Therefore, I will assume that this is essential knowledge until proven otherwise.”

“It’s not important.”

The robot placed his hand on Shadow’s shoulder. The latter wouldn’t admit it, but the weight was comforting, in a way.

“This is not adequate proof. Do you not trust me, Shadow?”

He sighed. “I do trust you, Omega. You know that.”

“Then talk.” Omega’s processors whirred for a moment, before adding, “Please.”

The hybrid’s shoulders slumped- he knew his friend wouldn’t stop until he told the truth. “I was thinking, how weird is it, that I work for the same organization that ki-...caused my sister’s-” He paused on the word, fighting not to trip over his sentences. “-death and...attempted to cause mine. Among other things. And how now...I must use weapons like the ones that took her from me...to harm others.” He sighed, nearly worn out just from the effort of discussing that event’s existence.

Omega jerked away from him, startling Shadow. “G.U.N. is the organization that killed your sister?” he asked, sounding- if it were possible- shocked.

“And the one that locked me away in cryostasis for 50 years, yes.” Shadow said, feigning calm.

Omega made a staticky noise that sounded like a sharp exhale. “Shadow. Why did nobody tell me this before? And why in the name of Chaos do you still work here?”

Shadow looked away, hiding the bitterness in his expression. “Multiple reasons. One, the organization has somewhat cleaned up its act, as far as I can tell. Two, it wants to keep me under surveillance, since I am still ‘potentially dangerous’ to them...and consequences would be severe if I did not obey.”

He tapped his heel on the ground. “Also, it was one of the main avenues for us to become heroes. Unlike Sonic and his friends, we don’t have the luxury of fighting someone who wants us to know where they are. And you know we didn’t exactly have the best record with law enforcement beforehand.”

“Still.” Omega replied. “I am highly opposed to the concept of fighting in the name of such an organization. Have they at least apologized to you? Or admitted their wrongdoing?”

Shadow frowned, thinking. “No, actually, they never did.”

Why did he have to bring this up? There’s no point in talking about what’s past. Let’s just get over it and move on.

Omega looked down, his eyes dimming slightly. “Processing.”

He was still processing by the time Rouge arrived, and remained mostly silent for their exit, post-mission briefing and the entire ride home.

Once the three had gotten inside, Rouge faced the E-series robot. “Alright, what’s up with you? You’re never quiet, but you’ve barely said a word since I got back.”

“I am considering an important decision.” Omega said.

“Oh? And what might that be?” she asked, folding her arms.

“My potential resignation from the government organization known as G.U.N..”

“Wait, what?” Rouge gasped. 

Shadow shouted out from the other room simultaneously. “Omega, what are you thinking?!”

“Current logic process is as follows: G.U.N. hurt one of the few decent people on this planet and my friend fifty years ago by murdering Maria Robotnik and many others aboard the ARK, as well as imprisoning him for said fifty years against his will. It has not apologized or shown remorse for those actions. Therefore, this organization clearly has no respect for Shadow, and therefore I refuse to aid them one moment longer.”

Shadow appeared at the robot’s side, placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Omega, but you don’t need to do that for me. I’m alright with this.”

(He was lying, of course.)

“Hold on a minute here, Omega’s got a point.” Rouge said pensively. “I started working here so I wouldn’t go to jail for stealing, but I’ve served my ‘sentence’ ages ago. Honestly, I kind of hate it there anyway? Like, nobody even respects us and it’s got way too much bureaucracy and too many outdated ideas. It’d be much better if it was just the three of us doing our own thing away from them, wouldn’t it?”

“Besides, hon, you’ve got to start standing up against those guys. I know you were going through a major existential crisis a while back when this all started, and that was the main thing you had to deal with. But now that you’ve started to figure everything out, it’s time to stop letting people treat you this way! We don’t have to give G.U.N. anything. They never helped you at all.”

“Agreed.” Omega said. “This organization does not deserve you- or any of us. They have wronged you, and though forgiveness is supposedly a ‘virtue’, it is likely so only when it is deserved.”

Shadow stared at the two of them. “That was...actually kind of philosophical for a minute. And convincing.” He huffed, frustrated, his hands curling into fists. “I just…how would I even go about dealing with my grievances with an entire military organization? I would need proof...and I don’t want to damage my standing with the government. G.U.N. can easily claim that I have gone rogue.” 

He swallowed, trying to ignore the various insecurities at the corners of his mind. “I’m just...should I really be digging all of this up again? I’ve finally started to get over it…”

“Okay, so first of all, hon, you’d better not let G.U.N. walk all over you just because they can make up fake blackmail.” the bat insisted. “And second, you’re clearly not over it. Shadow...I can hear you when you wake up from your nightmares, you know. You deserve some kind of closure to help you, and if G.U.N. won’t give it to you, then you have to take it.

“Also, here’s another thing- how much worse would you feel if G.U.N. hurt someone else, and we had never said anything to warn anyone?”

Shadow stiffened, feeling ill again. The very idea was abhorrent. That another person’s Maria could be lost due to his silence...“That...that would be unimaginable….” he breathed.

“Exactly.” Rouge replied. “So, consider it.”

Shadow frowned. “I...I’ll keep it in mind. But we should at least see if they’ll do something first before we try to attack them. We might be able to convince them to make amends, after all. I mean, if we fight, we’ll be completely out of a job, and I don’t know if the funds from Club Rouge will be enough to keep us afloat- if we succeed. It’s too risky, at least for now.”

“If that’s what you want to do, then we can definitely stick with that to start.” the bat said. “I don’t know if I could’ve taken any of their apologies if it were me, but it’s not my life, it’s yours. So I’ll be right with you no matter what you decide to do, okay?”

“As will I.” Omega added, placing a hand on Shadow’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Rouge. Thanks, Omega.” the hybrid said, finally allowing relief to show on his face as he looked at his friends.

He couldn’t help but feel that with them by his side, everything would be alright.

…

They talked through most of the night about how to bring it up, what they would say, and even where they would sit to keep Shadow feeling as safe as he could. The hybrid had final veto power over anything the other two suggested, and he tried to keep the wording of the speech he’d give as controlled and polite as possible. 

However, he tried not to bring up the “maybe G.U.N. still thinks I’m a weapon to be stored and used, not a person” topic during his proposal. Those insecurities could wait for another day.

They fell asleep late at night, all three in the same room- Shadow made a blanket nest on the floor, Omega plugged himself into the wall, and Rouge was on her bed.

Pleasantly enough, Shadow didn’t have any nightmares that night.

…

“You want us to do what?” 

The head of the public relations department stood behind his desk, cutting a slightly dominating figure in front of the team in his room. Omega could easily detect an increased heart rate in Shadow. He was not betraying any nervousness externally, however, and the robot was impressed by his friend’s willpower.

The PR head sat down, and he gestured for Team Dark to do the same. However, since there were only two chairs in the room (as they had known), Omega remained standing. Among other things, it would allow him to more easily defend his friends should the talk go awry.

“I’m afraid we just can’t do that kind of thing...Shadow.” He said the last word like it was distasteful, like it didn’t belong in his mouth. (Or, perhaps, like he wanted to add a “Project” or “Experiment” to the front of it, but didn’t for fear of a missile to the face delivered by Omega.)

“Why not?” The hybrid asked. “Sir,” he forced himself to add politely. “Don’t you agree that it was wrong? That G.U.N.’s soldiers shouldn’t have done...what they did?”

“I am incredibly saddened that Miss Robotnik’s death occurred in the search for you, and that the head of G.U.N. at the time considered you unworthy of any basic living rights.” the PR leader said, sounding more than anything like he was reading a script off a teleprompter. “However, I am not going to make a public statement digging up something that happened fifty years ago.”

Rouge leaned forward in her chair furiously. “So you’re just going to pretend it never happened? What about the trauma Shadow experienced? What about the fact that this kind of thing could happen again?”

The leader looked at her coldly. “I can assure you that this is an isolated incident, and that such an occurrence has not happened before or since.”

“But you can't just-! Can’t we speak with the commander?” Rouge gasped, outraged.

“I can, and I will. And you know very well that the commander is taking a well-deserved vacation, and we are not to disturb him for any reason except an emergency. Now then. Did you have anything else you needed?” he said smugly.

Omega was so, so close to just arming the missile launcher anyway.

Shadow looked up at him carefully, clearly going over the words in his head. “Sir. May I respectfully ask why G.U.N. considered it necessary to arm me? I can apply lethal force if necessary in other manners.”

The PR head frowned. “Close quarters are not necessarily a safe space for you, Shadow. We need you alive, and if that means you’re farther back, then so be it.”

“But- me? Destroying with impunity? In such a cold, distant manner? That’s not what G.U.N. wants to see from me, I thought. And with my experiences, I really don’t think-”

The human folded his arms. “Don’t worry about thinking, just worry about completing your missions on time. And what’s past is past, right? Now then, I expect no more complaints from you three. This meeting is concluded.”

Shadow stood up stiffly. “Yes, sir.”

Rouge froze. “Wait, Shadow, you’re not just going to-”

“We’re leaving, Rouge. Now.” Shadow said firmly, but the two other members of Team Dark could hear the unsteadiness in his voice. Omega remained silent, but internally was playing a very nice simulation in which he repeatedly punched the head of the PR department.

Once they had exited the office and walked through the facility for a while, Shadow leaned heavily against a wall. “He’s not sorry at all.” he muttered. The robot didn’t need his sensors to tell that he was experiencing far too many negative feelings at once. It wasn’t healthy for organics to deal with all that all the time…

“Agreed.” Omega said. “I would not be surprised in the least if he was lying throughout all of it.”

Rouge sighed, before pulling an unresisting Shadow into a hug. “Honey, I’m...” She paused for a second. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. You shouldn’t have to cope with people like that, ever.”

Shadow closed his eyes quietly and stood like that for a long time. Eventually, though, he spoke up. “.....I know what we have to do. I...I know we need to fight, like you said last night. I don’t feel ready, but just…it has to happen.”

Omega looked down at them both. “You two go out to the car. I will go and get your sister’s files myself while you take a few minutes, Shadow. I am bulletproof and the most likely to make it out unscathed, and if I need help I can call.”

Rouge rolled her shoulders briefly, her wings flexing. “Alright. I’ll be ready to get out of here the second you get in. Sound good?”

“Alright.” Omega agreed. “Let’s go.”

The robot marched down the halls, on a mission. He stopped first to gather everything from their office- or at least all of their personal items. They might need them later, after all. He placed them into his empty chest compartment (he hadn’t refilled on weaponry in a while) and moved on. 

The lower levels of the G.U.N. facility were darker and less well-maintained. This was most likely on purpose, to keep people from wanting to go down there. Omega, however, did not fear the dark. He had a flashlight, and a hulking five-foot robot was usually enough to scare most creatures.

Thankfully, the guards stationed throughout these levels knew him, and simply stepped aside to let Omega pass. Quite a few of them were honestly nervous down there themselves, and barely even noticed him.

He noticed a small door marked ‘Records Room- Classified’ and knew he was in the right place. The door did not give him access, but that was alright. Rouge had hacked the system a while back and given herself the highest clearance possible...and now Omega had her spare card.

Once he was inside, he scanned the cabinets methodically until he found the file marked ‘Maria Robotnik’. Inside were papers detailing her death and her life. Everything one could have wanted to know about her was inside. 

The red stamp on the front reading ‘Terminated’ was pretty ominous, and Omega briefly wondered if he would be able to remove it. He considered the possibility that Shadow would not be quite so pained upon seeing it if the stamp were gone.

It was unlikely, and so he moved on.

Omega exited the room, hoping that the guards in the security monitor room were slacking off. They often were, so he calculated at least a 70% chance of exiting the facility without incident. He placed the file inside his compartment and continued on.

Being a robot meant that he could not act nervous. Therefore, nobody questioned him as he walked through the halls and outside, where he saw Rouge talking to Shadow inside their black-and-red car.

The hybrid appeared to be rather panicked about the whole plan, so as Omega slid into the backseat, he placed his hand on his friend’s head for a brief moment. “Everything is going to be alright, Shadow. I promise you that.”

Shadow sighed and slumped back against the seat. “Let’s get out of here before someone notices what we did.”

Rouge pulled out of the parking lot with a screech of the tires and didn’t let the speedometer dip below fifty until they got home.

“Right.” she said, once they were all inside. “We’ll probably have G.U.N. beating down our door by tomorrow morning, so let’s make sure they don’t catch us still here by then. Omega, refill your weapons and pack us some clothes and stuff. Shadow, you just try and chill. I’m going to look over this file.”

As Rouge flipped through the pages, Shadow decided that he needed to see these for himself and walked over to stand behind her. Before long, though, he recoiled in shock upon seeing that when G.U.N. discussed Maria’s death, they justified it. Made it seem like Shadow was the villain. A monster. A weapon.

“Shadow?” the bat asked.

“...yes?”

“You know we can’t use this by itself, right? We need more proof. Like, video proof.” she said, sounding resigned.

“I know.” he said quietly, disappointed that so little had changed despite the fact that half a century and some new management had taken place. 

Omega cursed out G.U.N. from the other room in response and came over to them, his eyes in their ‘angry’ shape. “We need to stop them now. This revolting organization does not deserve to spend another minute active anywhere on the planet.”

“Let’s get them, then.” Rouge hissed, clearly furious as well. 

Shadow felt terribly apprehensive, but despite that, he agreed as well. “Then they won’t be able to hurt anyone else in the future.” he said, sounding more determined than he had in a while.

“You ready, guys?” the bat asked, holding out her hand in the midst of their little group.

Omega allowed his giant metal hand to hover over hers. “Always.”

Rouge looked at the hybrid. “You sure you’re up for this, hon?”

“Not entirely…” Shadow admitted, but took a deep breath and held out his hand too, allowing Rouge to guide his hand to Omega’s, just like she had so long ago. “...but I need to do it, and so I will.”

“Then we’ll expose them, Shadow.” she said confidently. “And we’ve totally got this, because we’re doing it together.”

And as they all clasped hands for a moment, before breaking off to head to the garage, Shadow felt like they really had a chance to succeed.

[libraryofloveletters]

Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context) 

Category: fluff for the most part. 

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do. 

-----

Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication. 

Letters had always been more of your thing. 

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him. 

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30. 

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter. 

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving. 

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment. 

September 30th.

‘Hi baby! 

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon. 

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ? 

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :) 

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you. 

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd. 

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure.  I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back. 

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor. 

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming) 

Peace out, 

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind. 

November 4th. 

‘Dear Evan, 

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you. 

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter. 

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up. 

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer. 

Anyways, signing off for now. 

Yours always, y/n. 

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet. 

December 21st. 

‘Hey y/n, 

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me. 

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now. 

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun. 

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now. 

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description. 

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ? 

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n. 

Peace out, 

Evan. 

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th. 

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it. 

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan, 

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ? 

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go. 

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories. 

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had. 

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah) 

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present? 

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country. 

February 12th. 

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it,  a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name. 

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas. 

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me. 

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell) 

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ? 

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it. 

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it. 

Peace out, 

Buck’ 

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash. 

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’ 

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there. 

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August. 

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it. 

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now. 

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall. 

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that. 

Except, she was still busy. 

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile. 

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n. 

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties. 

A fresh start. 

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into. 

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates. 

Buck’s last letter to you. 

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing. 

‘Dear Buck, 

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change. 

Guess where I decided to go ? 

Did you guess yet? 

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ? 

LA! 

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.) 

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ? 

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first. 

Yours always, y/n.’ 

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye. 

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor. 

The unit number was the only difference. 

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in. 

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address. 

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall. 

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years. 

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you. 

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door. 

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” 

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door. 

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?” 

“I am, who are you ?” 

“Y/n.” 

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled. 

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar. 

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer. 

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter. 

“Water’s fine, thanks” 

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you. 

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile. 

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?” 

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose” 

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums. 

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before. 

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?” 

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact. 

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer. 

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?” 

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.” 

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles. 

“Buck, we live in the same building.” 

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other. 

“Okay.” 

----

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner  @captainxholmes @venusrosepetal @luke-alvez​ @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13​ @artemishunter18​ @anxiousblanketqueen​

[quokkacore]

can you dig it? (m) [kim doyoung & kim jungwoo]

summary: post concert highs can be a real bummer, and tonight, after a particularly intense performance, your boyfriends help you come down.

pairing: kim doyoung x kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre: poly!au, 70s!au, band!au, smut, fluff

warnings: drug usage (weed specifically), mentions of other substances (lsd and cocaine), shotgunning, established poly relationship, soft dom jungwoo, mentioned switch jungwoo, hard dom doyoung, sub reader, high sex, sex on a water bed!!, unprotected sex, spit kink, they're all so sweaty help, mxm, degradation kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, minor possessiveness

song recs: don’t stop - fleetwood mac // unlock it (feat. kim petras & jay park) - charli xcx // love her madly - the doors // ziggy stardust - david bowie // rhiannon - fleetwood mac // eclipse - kim lip (loona) // flick of the wrist - queen

word count: 5.4k

a/n: this is for my best friend, who i love with all my heart,bc last month we were talking abt the dowoo photoshoot and she said smth about high sex with dowoo. happy birthday queen <3 thank u for listening to me complain abt writing all the time :’)

masterlist

Friday, July 22rd, 1977

The concert hall smelled like cocaine and sweat, you noted to yourself as the three of you joined hands to bow. Cheers from the crowd bounced off of the walls as you bid them your final goodbye, wishing them a good night and telling them to drive safe. Still, their chanting persisted. "Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel!" 

You wondered vaguely if this was what it was like to be a young god.

The curtain lowered, and the three of you were ushered offstage, to take some pictures and then head back to the hotel, to try and get some rest before you were off to Philadelphia, some five or so hours from where you were now: Boston. 

Truthfully, everything passed in a blur. It was almost always like this after these concerts. The thrill and euphoria of performing made it difficult to focus on things. That might have also been because Jungwoo had passed you a joint before the concert. You couldn't be completely sure.

Your tambourine and guitar seemingly disappeared, but you knew it would show up tomorrow for soundcheck when you got to the Philadelphia venue, right along with Jungwoo's bass guitar and Doyoung's drum kit.

What you did know was that here, in the car back to the hotel that your manager was driving, lecturing you and Jungwoo about the importance of being sober when talking to reporters, Doyoung had a hand on your thigh, and that was all you could focus on. 

Doyoung was high too. You knew this because ten minutes before you were needed on stage he pulled you forward by the hips and told you to take a few hits from the hand rolled joint and blow the smoke into his mouth. Of course, he wasn't as high as you and Jungwoo were, and he knew how to hide it better. But if you were to get close enough you'd notice the redness rimming his eyes, the dilation of his pupils.

The three of you were something, that was for sure. You had been, probably ever since Jungwoo joined the band, some eight years ago, in the fall of '69. You only really defined what you were once you got your first big hit thanks to some disc jockey in LA playing a song you had written, Calabasas, on the radio back in '73. 

The song had blown up, and suddenly the three of you were whisked into a whirlwind of celebrities, drugs, paparazzi and producers who thought the three of you were born yesterday. Yes, you were college kids that ran on booze and weed, but you weren’t complete morons. That was when the three of you sat down to properly discuss boundaries, what slid and what didn’t.

You and your boys decided that night that weren’t down with the idea of everyone knowing. Too many prying eyes. The public didn’t really know, because the press would have a damn field day. 

Other than that, it was a pretty open secret. In the industry, who was going around with who didn’t really matter—a lot of them were too off their face to even care. You realized that a few years back when David Bowie walked in on you watching Jungwoo and Doyoung get it on in a bathroom at some afterparty in New York City, and closed the door muttering something about how strong the edibles were.

 So, what your manager said fell on deaf ears. Too much weed, too much adrenaline, too much energy for someone who needed to head back onto the road in a few hours.

 When you finally got back to the hotel, Jungwoo grabbed your hand in the elevator on the way up to your rooms, which were right next to each other. "You said that your bed was really big… can we come up?"

You nodded, leaning against his arm. Doyoung hummed affectionately at the sight, noting how tired you both were. 

"You two are about five seconds from passing out," Doyoung mumbled, and you waved your hand in denial. 

"Are not," you protested like a child.

"Y/N, don't be a chump. I'm pretty sure if Woo weren't next to you, you'd have fallen over."

You didn't have the energy to counter, and as the elevator slid open, you were the first one to march out, ready to just take a cold shower and die for the next few hours. 

Realistically, you knew that wasn't what would happen. What would happen was that you would shower, get into bed and then toss and turn for another hour or so. Only then would the adrenaline truly wear off. The weed didn't help, making you feel sleepy. 

You unlocked the door, and Doyoung and Jungwoo gawked at the sight—and size—of your bed. It could probably fit all three of you easily. 

Since only one room would spark rumors, the manager usually booked two: one for Doyoung and Jungwoo and one for you. Your room always went unused. Usually, you would have to push Doyoung's and Jungwoo's beds together to make enough room, leaving an awkward and uncomfortable dip for the person in the middle. Whoever got the middle was handed the terrible double edged sword: cuddles galore, but a sore back in the morning. 

Immediately Jungwoo jumped onto the bed, gasping and immediately laughed gleefully as the bed sloshed underneath him. 

"A water bed!?" He exclaimed, splaying out his limbs. "Oh, far out. You really lucked out, dollface." 

He kicked off his shoes and curled up in the middle, eyes fluttering shut. You followed, sitting at the side as you peeled off your white leather go-go boots. Throwing yourself down next to him, you sighed at the sensation of waves beneath you, and nodded. "Oh, this is ace," You murmured, "Feels great."

Peeling one eye open as Jungwoo wrapped his arm around you, your gaze landed on Doyoung, who was still leaning against the wall. You beckoned him over with a hand. "C'mere, princey." 

He made sure that the air conditioner was working before sitting down on the other side of Jungwoo, for which you were grateful. The still drying sweat on the back of your neck and on your chest started to cool instantly. You and Jungwoo giggled as Doyoung’s weight sent waves rippling beneath you.

"So, are you guys gonna sleep or what?" Doyoung asked, kicking his shoes off as well and peeling off his denim jacket. His eyes were still wide open and he didn't look tired at all. "I'm probably staying up a little later, I have some ideas for some lyrics I want to get down—"

"I would love to sleep. But I can't," Jungwoo declared before glancing knowingly at the both of you, "and neither can either of you." 

You hummed in agreement. "Hmm, you're not wrong. Too much energy left."

You turned to bury your face into his chest. His forest green short-sleeved button up was only buttoned up halfway, easily revealing his collarbones. He smelled like pot, sweat, and designer cologne. His chest rumbled as he continued to speak. 

"What about you, bunny boy? You can't tell me you don't still feel it."

"The weed or the concert jitters?" Doyoung's voice was raspy, cautious. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. Once you and Jungwoo ganged up on him, it wouldn't take long to wear him down.

"Both," You and Jungwoo said in unison. You laughed at the sound. Doyoung chuckled as well, and you cracked your eyes open, despite how cozy you felt with Jungwoo stroking the skin of your nape.

"Well, the jitters are still there. That's why I'm staying up. As for the weed… well, yeah. I still feel it."

Jungwoo sighed. "How's the weed hitting you, though?"

"Honestly?" Doyoung's eyes met yours, and you felt something simmer in your chest. He huffed, deciding to take a bite of the apple, and leaned towards the both of you. 

"The weed, plus watching you two perform… Safe to say I'm pretty fuckin' horny right now."

You bit your lip, giving him a sleepy grin. "Oh, Woo, we turned him on." The teasing tone wasn't missed despite the sleepiness in your tone. 

"And what about it?" Doyoung asked, leaning back on his hands. "You can't say that watching Jungwoo do the thing doesn't get you going."

"I have a thing?" 

"We all have a thing, Woo. Princey's over there is at the end of Mr. Jones' Motorcycle. You know, when he finishes the solo? He always throws his head back, because there's sweat and hair in his eyes. You can see his neck and shit..."

Jungwoo blinked. "Shit, that is his thing… What's mine?"

You raised an eyebrow at Doyoung. "His is the thing where he gets so into it that he throws his head back and plays, and still manages to get every bass note right, right?" 

Doyoung nodded with a satisfied hum. "Gets you going, right?"

You brought a hand up to Jungwoo's chest, slowly sliding it down his stomach. Your voice lowered to a raspy murmur, and Jungwoo's hand tightened around your waist. "Damn right it does." 

"And plus, you both have told me that watching me put together the drum kit is hot."

"'Cause it is!" Again you laughed as Jungwoo said the same thing you did. 

"Jungwoo." Doyoung's voice sounded thicker. "You can't tell me that Y/N isn't an absolute vixen on stage." 

"You're right," The younger man answered, voice gruff. His hand slid down, gripping your butt and giving it a light squeeze, before directing his words at you. "Oh! Y/N, your thing is when—you know how every time you play the transition from Calabasas to Saturn’s Rings you sway your hips and flip your hair back and forth? Sometimes you’ll look at me or at Doyoung while you do, and you looked at me tonight. You're a little tease up there, dollface."

Your breath hitched at their words. “Oh, yeah?” You goaded, cuddling further into Jungwoo’s chest. You let a coy smile grace your face as your eyes fluttered shut. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Don’t be a brat,” Doyoung growled.

“No, Doie,” Jungwoo hummed. He suddenly sounded a lot more awake. “...What would you have her do about it?”

Your eyes fluttered open, swallowing despite the sudden dryness in your throat. Doyoung's pupils were still blown wide, but you were pretty sure it wasn't because of the weed. He licked his lips. "Princess, get on your knees." 

Jungwoo prompted you up, pulling you up to stand at the side of the bed. Doyoung circled around the bed, before standing next to Jungwoo. Your gaze fluttered between your two boyfriends, one looking stern, the other looking like he was having the time of his life. 

Quietly, you lowered yourself to kneel on the plush carpet, fingers gripping the silver fabric of your dress' skirt to hike it up, so that you wouldn't kneel on it. Your hands itched to reach for them but you knew you needed to ask for permission. "Can I touch you?" 

Doyoung smiled, reaching for his belt. "There's our good girl," He said. Your mouth was already watering embarrassingly as you helped him undo his belt, pulling him out of his boxers. He was already half hard, and as you lifted your hand to spit in it, someone grabbed you gently by the rest. Jungwoo leaned over, turning your hand to reveal your palm to him. His eyes seemed to burn into yours as he let his spit fall into the palm of your hand. You felt your legs close, thighs trying to rub together at the sight. 

"Go on," Jungwoo murmured, using a hand on your jaw to move your head. Your eyes fell on Doyoung's cock again, slowly getting harder and harder. Your hand wrapped around it, stroking slowly as you met his smoldering gaze. You stroked him until he was rock hard in your grip, and his breathing turned heavy. Again, you swallowed, and Doyoung noticed this time. 

“What is it, princess? You want it in your mouth?”

“Yes, please,” You whispered, eyes wide. He chuckled breathily, head tipping back as you ran your thumb over the slit. His eyes met Jungwoo’s, who was palming himself through his pants.  

“What do you think, baby?” He asked him.

“Don’t be mean, Doyoung,” Jungwoo said softly. “Look at her, she’s desperate. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whined, nodding. The pair chuckled. Jungwoo grinned at the state you were already in. “Go ahead, dollface. Give it a kiss.”

Before Doyoung could say anything else, you took his dick into your mouth, and let out a soft moan at how heavy he felt, hot and pulsing. He let out a guttural groan of your name, a hand burying itself in your hair. His other hand gripped Jungwoo’s shirt, pulling him forward to meet in a tongue-filled kiss. 

Slowly, Doyoung’s hips started rocking back and forth, grinding into your mouth. Your hands stroked what you couldn’t fit, as well as his balls. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to relax so as to not gag on his length. But when he sped up, it became too much to avoid. 

A tap on your shoulder, and Doyoung let you off of his cock. You turned your head to look up at a very flushed Jungwoo, who had pulled his dick out of his pants as well. The words, “Me too?” tumbled out of his swollen lips. And with that gentle, breathy tone, who were you to disobey?

You wrapped your lips around Jungwoo, who hissed at the sudden heat of your mouth. From there, something primal inside of you took control, wanting nothing more than to please—you took turns sucking them off and stroking them, the muffled sounds of their moaning spurring you on.

It was always like this—during sex, Doyoung was the meaner one, manhandling you and throwing degrading words in your face that made your stomach curl in sick pleasure. He was the one who could put you in your place when you became too bratty to handle. Jungwoo was gentler, but he was all too content to watch Doyoung toss you around. He would always swoop in after Doyoung took you apart, and piece you back together. He’d tell you how good you were, how good you made the both of them feel, and while he definitely didn’t treat you like fragile porcelain, he definitely didn’t leave as many bruises as Doyoung did. 

And then, when they were both done, they’d shower you in kisses, and whisper in your ear how grateful they were to love you, and say some philosophical thing about eternal love and the cosmos that you’d always be too fucked out to comprehend, but that made your heart do a backflip regardless. 

“Shit,” Jungwoo groaned, pulling away from Doyoung’s lips. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.” 

You pulled off of Doyoung to look up at Jungwoo. “In my—in my mouth, please, Woo.”

He nodded, licking his lips as his hands fisted themselves in your hair, gripping but not pulling as he allowed you to touch him the way you wanted. His hands gathered the loose strands into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide your mouth up and down his hot cock. His hips bucked into your willing mouth, the sound of his hissing and his moaning getting louder and louder, until… 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N… Y/N!" He groaned, as he came into your mouth. His head tipped back, which gave Doyoung access to his neck, pressing sloppy kisses to the skin. This sight was worth the bitter taste that coated your tongue: one of your lovers in ecstasy while the other anchored him to the ground. 

He left his dick in your mouth for a moment, before pulling out with a shaky breath. Doyoung pulled away, letting him breathe. As Jungwoo caught his breath, Doyoung pulled you up, and he sat on the bed, bringing you down with him to straddle his lap. 

You turned your head to face Jungwoo, who smiled at you, coming closer to the both of you. One of his hands patted the top of your head. "That was wicked," He said. 

Doyoung smiled softly, and gripped your chin to get you to face him. His sweet grin didn't disappear as his grip forced your mouth open. He groaned at the sight of your tongue coated in Jungwoo's semen. 

"Gorgeous," He mumbled, eyes trained on your lips as it began to spill out. 

"Kiss her," Jungwoo told him, "You know you want to."

So he did, his tongue almost immediately slipping past your lips to get a taste of Jungwoo for himself, swallowing it down greedily. Your hands came up to unbutton his black dress shirt, and his hands pushed up the skirt of your dress to get you to rock your hips against his. You gasped against his mouth at the feeling of only your soaked panties separating him and you, before pushing the shirt off of him. 

He moved to lie you down on the bed. As he pulled away from you, you caught his tongue slipping out to lick at a dribble of Jungwoo's cum on his lips. To make matters even worse, the bed was rolling beneath you, making your head spin. 

Jungwoo pulled his shirt off before he sat down behind you. Meanwhile, Doyoung moved down your body, parting your legs. He prompted you to sit up, resting your back against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your earlobe as Doyoung peeled your underwear off of you, biting his lip at the sight of your drooling pussy. 

"You're absolutely drenched, princess. And all from sucking our cocks, huh?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as Jungwoo's lips began kissing along your jaw. When you didn't say anything, Jungwoo pinched your sides gently. "Use your words, doll," He whispered. From behind you, his eyes met Doyoung's. "You're gonna keep being our good little girl, right?"

"Y-yes, Jungwoo." Your hand lifted itself to press against his cheek, a silent plea for more kisses. He smiled against your skin. 

"Atta girl," He praised, "On your best behavior for us tonight, huh?" 

"The little slut's just being good because she wants to get fucked, Woo. Don't get it twisted." 

"Please, Doie," You pleaded at the mention of being fucked, "Need it."

The older man chuckled lowly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit. 

"Told you."

His tongue pressed itself against your hole, and you immediately cried out. You would have immediately started grinding against Doyoung's face if it weren't for Jungwoo's hands on your hips, holding you down and keeping it still. 

"I don't think you wanna do that," He murmured. His hands travelled underneath your skirt, gripping the silvery blue gossamer as he tried to lift it up. You did your best to keep your squirming at a minimum as you tried to help him get you out of it. Finally, the bell sleeves were pulled off, and you were left naked as the day you were born.

Jungwoo’s hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he watched you whimper at the sensation of Doyoung’s mouth working at your folds. When he slipped his tongue inside, you keened, head falling against Jungwoo’s shoulder. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” He whispered. 

Your chest heaved, squirming up and down as he began to tug and pinch your nipples, calloused fingertips making you cry out.

Doyoung’s free hand gripped your thigh, and his fingers on the other hand slipped inside when he pulled his tongue out. Immediately, he plunged in two fingers, curling his fingers as he attempted to search for that one special spot.

"Ngh, Doie, faster, pleasepleaseplease." Your legs were trembling slightly now. 

"So fucking slutty," Doyoung mumbled, chuckling wickedly, "And all I had to do was stick my fingers inside." 

He complied with no protest, and the sensation of Doyoung stroking your walls and Jungwoo continuously pawing at your breasts caused a string of moans to come pouring out of your mouth. Jungwoo had been sucking a bruise into your clavicle, but leaned up to press his lips against yours. 

"Don't want anyone hearing what's meant for Doie and I," He said, lips brushing yours. 

The idea made you even needier, the double entendre making your head spin. Jungwoo didn't want anyone to hear you because if they did, rumors would spread. And on top of that? He didn't want anyone to hear. You were theirs. They were yours. This was a sacred ritual between bodies meant to be witnessed by only the three of you.

Your head felt like you were floating, even though your limbs felt like they were sinking into the watery mattress. A coil began to tighten in your stomach, and your soft whines, muffled by Jungwoo's plush lips, increased in pitch. 

They both knew what this meant, because a second later, Doyoung removed his fingers from your core, and Jungwoo pulled away, his hands moving from your breasts to rest on Doyoung's atop your hips. You were left reeling and breathing heavily, that familiar sensation floating away.

When you looked down at Doyoung, you swallowed at the sight of his lips, chin and fingers, all glistening with your wetness.

He lifted himself up off the mattress, and proceeded to sandwich your chest in between his own chest and Jungwoo’s back. He gripped his dick, rubbing it against your folds, which were now even more soaked than before.

"Tell me how much you want it, princess." He pressed his forehead against yours, hissing when the tip caught your clit. You let out a desperate whine, clinging to his broad shoulders. 

"Do—Doyoung, please fuck me," You begged, reeling at the sensation. He was so close, all he had to do was slide in. But he refused.

"Not good enough," He insisted.

"Doyoung, don't be mean," Jungwoo said, but he seemed to be more amused by your desperation than anything.

"No, I wanna hear how much she needs us."

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to gather your words. Jungwoo's hands stroked your sides, trying to calm you down. "You doing alright, doll? You wanna take a breather?"

"We can always stop." Doyoung's voice had turned stable, secure, safe. He started pulling away, until you grabbed him by the forearm and shook your head. You opened your eyes, seeing concern in his eyes

“No,” You mumbled, “Jus’ want some water. Think there’s some in the minibar. ‘M really hot.”

Doyoung nodded, getting up and striding over to the small refrigerator on the other side of the room. He pulled out a water bottle, and popped open the cap before passing it to you. Jungwoo had taken to fanning your face lightly with his hand. You took several long swigs of water, before setting it on the nightstand.

“I’m fine,” You promised. “Can we please keep going? I can take it.”

Doyoung pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yeah,” You said with a nod. 

“Doyoung,” Jungwoo murmured, “Be careful.”

“I know, baby." He lowered his eyes to study your face. "I won’t go that hard on you, Y/N.”

You nodded, even though deep down you wanted to protest. You knew that this was probably the best route to take. You could already feel the high—from the weed and the concert—wearing off. You knew that if Doyoung were too rough you’d probably crash on the way down instead of float.

So, Jungwoo brushed some stray hair out of your sweaty face, and Doyoung grabbed your legs gently, wrapping them around his hips. Slowly, Doyoung eased in, and you sighed in satisfaction of finally being filled. He bit into your shoulder, taking deep heaving breaths as he let you get used to the sensation. Jungwoo took turns pressing kisses to the top of your head and the top of Doyoung’s head. 

“I love you both so much,” He whispered, “I’m so grateful the universe brought us together.” 

Doyoung looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “My baby,” He murmured against Jungwoo’s lips. He then turned to you and did the same, “My princess.”

You smiled at their words, but the need in your core was becoming unbearable. "Doie, Woo, I love you both so much," You murmured, "But Doyoung, if you don't move I'll pin you down and do it myself."

"And you were doing so well," Doyoung groaned with a laugh, before beginning to thrust his hips. It was a slow, torturous glide, and the way it caused the bed to rock left you dizzy in the best possible way. Doyoung was panting into your ear like some sort of beast, and you were whining softly with every cant of his hips.

"You must feel so good right now, huh, doll?" 

"Jung—woo," You moaned, clawing at his bicep.

"I know, dolly, I know." He sounded sympathetic enough, but the way he was grinding his dick against your ass suggested otherwise. "Bunny boy is just so good with those hips of his, hm?"

"H-he is!" You cried, "Feel so full, ah, Doyoung!" 

Doyoung's eyes met yours, and his hips picked up their pace, until your eyes rolled up into your head. Your head thrashed side to side, leaning against Jungwoo's shoulder. His mouth lowered once again to kiss at your neck, and your hand wrapped itself against his nape, while the other gripped Doyoung's shoulders.

Jungwoo's hands slithered down to where you and Doyoung were connected, and started rubbing at your clit. You shrieked, chest arching. Doyoung hissed. "Shit, do that again," He bit out, "Fuck, princess you just got so tight."

"D-Doie, harder!" 

Doyoung looked up at Jungwoo, the two having an unspoken conversation. A second later, Jungwoo gave a cautious nod. Doyoung smiled, before he adjusted his legs. Then…

Then. He began pounding into you at a breakneck pace. Your legs tightened around him, wanting him even deeper than before. 

"You love this, don't you? Our pretty little slut." His voice was tighter now, panting with exertion. You nodded. 

"Yes, yes! I'm your slut!" 

Doyoung grinned, before locking lips with you. His tongue dipped into your mouth, before letting you do the same to him. You could tell he was starting to feel something—he always kissed you or Jungwoo as a way of telling you he wouldn't last much longer. 

Truthfully, you could feel it coming too—your body felt like it was on fire, and your hips couldn't stop squirming. Whether it was towards Jungwoo's calloused fingers on your clit, Doyoung's cock, or away from both, you couldn't tell. Your moans were getting shriller too.

You clenched down on his length again, and he grit his teeth, grunting as his pace turned sloppy.

"C-c'mon, princey," You pleaded, "Give it to me, give it…"

"Shit, yes…" His head lolled onto your shoulder. "Gonna stuff you so full, princess, you'll be dripping—"

"Please! Oh, please—"

The two of you fell apart almost at the same time, your orgasm triggering Doyoung's a second later. Your mouth fell open, legs trembling and heart pounding as waves crashed over and under you.

When you came down, Doyoung rolled off of you, turning onto his side to watch you and Jungwoo. Jungwoo, who ceased the movements of his hands and slowly laid you down. Your head landed against the pillows, and you let your eyes shut as you caught your breath. 

"Can I take care of you one last time, doll?" You heard Jungwoo say. Your eyes opened blearily, and you reached a hand out towards him, legs parting of their own accord.

Both of your lovers groaned at the sight of your pussy, Doyoung's cum brimming from your folds. 

"Absolute perfection," Jungwoo murmured, crawling between your legs. He gripped his dick with one hand, the other swiping through your folds, and you immediately whined at the sensitivity there, teetering the fine line between pleasure and pain.

"Please," You whimpered, "Woo, I want it."

"You're insatiable." He sounded so affectionate, so in love. You watched as his eyes studied his index and middle fingers, covered in a mix of Doyoung's cum and yours, before dipping them into his mouth to lick them clean. You sighed, a dopey smile gracing your features. He lowered himself down to brush noses with you, dark eyes blown wide, wide awake despite the dark circles underneath.

"Guess I'll just have to do something about that."

He slid in as if he was coming home, immediately setting a solid pace that had you seeing stars, arms wrapping around his shoulders to lock hands at his nape. The sensitivity left you pliant in his arms, and Jungwoo didn't hesitate in cradling you in his arms.

"So good for us, Y/N. Always Doie and I's sweet girl." 

You nodded, tears brimming at your eyes at the heaviness in your chest, the pulsing in your core. His hair was falling into his eyes, and you lifted your hands to his face, doing your best to brush it away. Your hands cupped his cheeks, heavy eyes burning into his. Your hips were rutting against his desperately now, wanting nothing more than to feel that high with him.

Jungwoo pressed a brief kiss to your neck, feeling something simmer in his gut embarrassingly fast. 

Doyoung placed his head next to yours, gently lifting Jungwoo's head to kiss him, hand brushing the other man's ass. When he pulled away, he kissed you as well, and Jungwoo's mouth pressed itself to one of your nipples. You keened against Doyoung's mouth, hips losing all semblance of grace.

Here, you were needy, animalistic, running on instincts, and your boys were drinking it up like water from a desert oasis. 

Doyoung pulled away, a thin trail of spit connecting his lips to yours. His hands cradled your head.

"Can you feel it yet, princess?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, silent moans falling from your lips. "Ah, yeah, Doie… s-so close…"

"Me too," Jungwoo groaned between your breasts, "So wet, Y/N…"

"That's from all the cum she's filled with, right, princess?"

You nodded. "Mm—ngh! Stuffed me so good, Doie." 

"Yeah? You gonna let Jungwoo fill you up even more? Gonna keep it all inside, right?"

Your stomach did a backflip, and you felt your toes curl. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, I want it—"

"I'll give it to you, doll," Jungwoo growled, "It's all—fuck—all yours. S-same way this is all for us, right?"

Those words were what caused you to finally fall over the edge. Your high was so intense that you could have sworn that your ears popped—clawing at Jungwoo’s shoulders, your eyes squeezed shut. Only one side ended up scratched, since you always kept your right hand nails short to properly play guitar. You sobbed against Doyoung’s lips, and he eagerly swallowed up your cries, shushing you gently as you came back down.

You didn't feel Jungwoo come inside, but you felt it immediately afterwards—the satisfying stickiness, the warmth in your stomach. 

You looked at Jungwoo, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead before prompting him to move off. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you towards him as his little spoon, peppering kisses to your cheek and whispering how good you were. The two of you looked at Doyoung. You reached out, making grabby hands at him. His eyes were drooping, and he was blinking blearily as if he were trying to fight off sleep.

Still, he got up and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, as well as his lighter. As he sat back down on the bed, the waves sent you and Jungwoo further and further into the recesses of slumber. As consciousness left you, you caught Doyoung looking down at the two of you as if you were the most precious beings he'd ever encountered. His tone was low and grumbly, but there was a glint of smug satisfaction in his eye.

"I hope you two are happy. I can't remember those goddamn lyrics anymore."