#wrote it for myself but you're welcome to read it to <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[softguarnere]

Anyways, I was gonna post the new Chiara fic here, but it felt too long, so here's the AO3 link if anyone wants to see the newest shenanigans of loverboy and hatergirl :)

[gildedneon]

That Which I Cannot See

That Which I Cannot See - Part 1 - Pure Imagination

Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.

Summary: Basically A Star is Born but make it Sleep Token. A video of you singing Take Me Back to Eden gets attention online and you're invited to sing backup vocals at their next concert. Only, you end up doing a lot more than just that. The first in what will be at least a 3 part series.

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader 

Tags: Hand stuff (for now), mask play, concealed identity play, obscured vision/partial blindfolding, is this a musical now?, shower play with the lights off, monster kink? if you squint?, spiritual cult leader Vessel, dirty talk.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I enjoy candlelit showers while blasting Sleep Token and inspiration struck one day while listening to Take Me Back to Eden. What if? So I wrote it. I have already planned out a part 2 & 3, so fear not, our journey has just begun.

Read on Ao3

Part 2 Part 2.5 (Bonus Scene) Part 3 (coming soon)

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

So there I was, doom scrolling Instagram when *ping*

“Sleep_Token: We loved your video” My brows furrow. That can’t actually be their official account. Tapping the notification, I switch to my finsta, where I post anonymous videos of myself singing. I recently shared a clip of an acoustic cover of Take Me Back to Eden that got a decent amount of attention, but I didn’t think it got that much attention. The message thread opens just as another is coming in. 

“Sleep_Token: How would you feel about joining us sometime?” What the hell? 

I click their profile. Blue check mark. Holy shit. Shock has me so caught up I can’t even think of a clever response. Or any response for that matter.

What does ‘joining us' mean? Like for an orgy or going to a show? Because I’m down for both, but I only have tickets for one of those things. At least my brain is still cracking jokes. I stare at my phone and figure out something to say.

“Hi! Thanks! I actually will be at the show this Friday. I can’t wait :)” My heart does a little somersault as I hit send. 

“Sleep_Token: Perfect. Our manager will reach out for details. Bring something black to wear. We’ve got the rest covered!”

What the fuck does that mean? Reaching out for details for what? What is ‘the rest’ and how is it ‘covered’???

*ping*

The DM from the manager comes in. 

On auto-pilot, I go back and forth with the manager. Realization sets in… I’m going to be backstage at the Sleep Token show. I’m going to meet the Espera and sing with them. On stage. At the Sleep Token show. Friday. In less than a week. What the fuck.

Four days… I have four days to perfect my outfit. Immediately, I FaceTime my best friend. She answers on the second ring.

“Callie… you’re never gonna believe this.”

“Alright??… spill bitch”

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

My stride lengthens to keep up with the woman leading me through bright lit hallways. The week had flown by in a blur. Now it’s Friday and I’m being led backstage in sweats and a tank. I hadn’t fully wrapped my head around their invitation. But what I really hadn’t wrapped my head around was what had been developing since that night. Once I had gotten off the phone with Callie, I saw I had a DM request from a username I didn’t recognize.

“Hey it’s V” I think my brain had short circuited. It all felt like it came out of nowhere. I guess that’s the thing about change, it doesn’t happen until it just… does. We had started chatting  and it continued throughout the week, getting to know each other a bit, what we enjoy, what we don’t, our favorite colors, and even a bit of flirting. Another strange development in a situation that materialized all too quickly. But it was exciting. It has been a while since I’ve been truly excited about something or …someone. 

I think it helps that we don’t really know each other. Our identities are a secret. It’s sort of like getting to know the contents of a box without getting to know the box, if that makes sense. It’s hard to explain, but I like it. Being myself comes easier this way. There are less distractions.

My guide comes to a stop and knocks on a door. Anticipation grips me as it opens, a woman dressed in black greets us with a smile on her face. 

“Come on in! We’re excited to meet you.” The Espera, or the three female background vocalists, usher me into the dressing room and to a spot in front of the mirror. Their welcoming energy helps quell my buzzing thoughts. We fall into easy conversation as I work on my hair and makeup. The dress I chose is sexy but functional. Thin straps, square neckline dipping in a quick plunge, finished off with a thigh high slit. My hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back in a lion’s mane of waves. My lips are painted the darkest shade of red, the only real part of my face that will be seen from behind the gold mask that lays on the counter before me.

The Espera give me a crash course in backup vocals. No pressure, just last minute winging it in front of 13,000 people. I still can’t wrap my head around this, even as they help fit the mask to my face. It looks just like theirs, intricate bronze scrollwork curling down my cheeks, leaving only my mouth and jaw exposed. The mesh panels over the eyes allow me to make out shapes and light. So I can see plenty, but it doesn’t feel that way. For me, I might as well be blind. It’s the feeling of being out of control, a vulnerability that leaves me a bit raw and on edge.

A knock raps at the door and my ears grasp at every little sound, attempting to make up for my lack of sight. The women gather as it clicks open. Their blurry forms disappear to the sounds of scuffling shoes. The door closes. My blurred vision watches as a dark figure slowly makes its way across the mirrored space. Fully blind I would know it was him. The magnetism of his presence is threatening to drag me in like the gravity of a blackhole. It’s supermassive…

I hold my breath as he surveys me. It would be a lie to say that I am not intimidated under his gaze. Despite the disguise, the feeling of vulnerability remains.

“This suits you. How does it feel?” He purrs his approval. The tension in my chest eases. 

“Thank you. How does what feel?”

“Your transformation.”

“Transformation? Into what?” My breath hitches, I can see his dark figure looming behind me.

“Your true self.”

“I’m not really sure what you mean by that. As excited as I am, I am also a little nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?”

“I’m not sure if it’s one specific thing. I just don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done this before. I know I’m wearing a mask but it still feels scary to have people actually watching me. This is worlds away from posting anonymous videos online.”

“I can understand. For us, the disguises are about showing the parts of ourselves that do not feel comfortable in our daily lives. Whether that is because we feel they should be hidden or we lack a suitable outlet. So it’s really not a disguise at all, but a revelation. By wearing this mask, I take off the invisible one I wear everyday. I embody the aspects of myself that I wouldn’t otherwise. So ask yourself… What would that feel like for you? Who would you allow yourself to be if you knew you were free from judgement?”

“I think it would feel freeing. But how am I supposed to figure that out tonight?”

“A lot can happen in just one night.”

Unsure of what to say, I sigh and tilt my head. A gentle tap on the side of my mask is his response. I stare straight ahead, looking upon our blurry reflections in the mirror.

“Envision yourself right now. A different version of you, a fantasy. Who could you be? How would you carry yourself? What presence do you bring? Take a minute. Close your eyes if you need. Think of the answer and then feel it. Become it. This is the transformation. It is first in your mind and then, in your being.”

I take a breath, close my eyes, and do as he says. I see the masked version of me, painted with black, a version of me that no one knows. Not even myself. She can be anything. I can be anything. This essence blossoms in my bones, radiating until it anchors itself into my being. Excitement ripples under my skin. I open my eyes.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels… different. I see myself but also… more.”

Vessel tilts his head.

“I saw paint. On my neck and it ran down.” Skimming my hands over my arms to illustrate my point.

“Stand.” I pray my knees don’t give out as I follow his command.. His proximity sends little electric waves skating along my skin.

“You know it’s true what they say. Depriving one sense, heightens the others. Close your eyes.”

I do as he says. Anticipation coursing through me.

“Touch, for example.” 

His hands skate up my arms, over my bare shoulders to my neck. His fingers stroke along my skin, pressing into the muscles and working at the tension. Other parts of me start to crave the same and the weight of arousal settles between my thighs. I exhale a sigh. His fingertips play along my skin, alighting little sparks. Just as I’m being lulled into a daze, he stops. Moving away from me, he leans against the counter, silently staring. The vulnerability isn’t as uncomfortable now. Security has replaced whatever fear I felt before. He reaches for something on the counter.

“May I? I have an idea for you with this paint.” 

“You may.” I tease lightly and I hear the sound of spinning plastic. 

The light of the room is dimmed as he steps closer. Both hands come around my neck and fear takes root in an instant. What am I doing? I’m alone with a man who is dressed like a demon god, his hands are wrapped around my throat, and we are in a room where no one can hear me scream…probably. Oh no…. Should I be worried about how that turned me on?

Instead of squeezing the air from my lungs, he works the paint onto my skin. His fingers splay as he drags his hands down both sides of my neck. His fingernails scrape over my collarbones, stopping just before the neckline of my dress. My eyes fall closed and I can’t help the sigh that escapes or the shudder that runs through my body. Nor can I help imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on my thighs. Leaving a sinful trail of evidence, as he explored more sensual areas of my body. Circling behind me, his hands clasp my arms, leaving one last mark.

“Look at yourself.” His deep voice jarring me from my haze. Even with my obscured vision, I can clearly see the twin trails of black that drag down my neck, stopping just before my breasts and the stark handprints on my upper arms.

“It looks like I’ve been marked by a monster.” I say, amusement clear in my tone. 

Silence. A brief moment of tension, then his hand wraps around my throat. He leans closer to me.

“Are you calling me a monster?” His teasing is mixed with tones of darkness. I shudder at the thrill. 

“No. Monsters are scary and I’m not scared of you” …Yet 

“Do you want to be scared of me?” His voice is low in my ear.

“Maybe a little” Maybe more than a little.

I see his head tilt in the mirror. I can’t see his eyes but I feel them flaying me alive, gleaning every dark desire snaking through my body. He releases me, putting a bit more distance between us. 

“As much as I would love to explore that, it’s about time we get ready to go on. You’ll be brilliant. If you get nervous just remember my touch and how it’s plain for everyone to see.” I could feel him wink at me as he said that. It wasn’t the worst suggestion. That would certainly distract my thoughts from wandering into anxiety, but it would distract me in other ways. Blushing, I step through the door he holds for me, and follow him down the hall.

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

Like a cutscene in a movie, suddenly I’m on stage and the show is taking off. The lights and sounds are overwhelming. I allow myself a few minutes to adjust. Slowly, I begin to pick up the swaying movements from the Espera. Taking cues from their hazy shapes. Then, I allow my voice to softly join theirs. The flashing mass of screaming fans mere feet away is difficult to tune out, but I let them blur into shapes through my mask and my voice rises to the music. With each song they play, my confidence grows, and I feel that vision of myself, from the dressing room, coming to life.

Well, I know what you want from me

You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception

Setting you free, so you take what you want and leave

Excitement strikes like lightning. Of course I knew this song was coming, but being a part of it? Dancing while every instrument reverberates through my body?  

Won’t you come and dance in the dark with me?

Tapping into that sensual side of me, I allow it to take form, my hips swaying to the rhythm. I trail my fingertips over my body, and pleasure ripples behind my touch. Hearing whispers of my voice wafting through the background is unreal.

Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails

I once made a comment to Callie about how I fantasize about being in an orgy while this song plays because it never fails to turn me on. The way the beat builds and morphs, the lyrics on top of that, it feels like seduction. My voice vibrates through my being, sparking a dark desire that flares with the melody. My eyes fall shut as I remember our time together in the dressing room. I feel his phantom touch along my skin and surrender myself to the sensations.

You make me wish I could disappear

The music dies down, somber notes begin to rise. Recognition flutters in my heart. This is the song that first drew my attention to him… and his attention to me. My eyes snap open on instinct, despite my obstructed view, I see a dark figure approach me, blocking out the crowd. My heart begins to race. I tilt my masked face up at his towering form. He grabs my hand and leads me from behind my place in the background. There we are, front and center. I have no idea what he is doing or what he expects of me. My blood roars through my ears, beating against the tense curiosity of the all too quiet crowd. Curious cheers ring out, but my focus is drawn to him.

I dream in phosphorescence 

Bleed through spaces

My nails scrape restlessly against the fabric of my dress. I have no idea what he wants from me. We never talked about this. Am I just supposed to stand here? Am I supposed to sing a specific part or harmony? My thoughts race as panic begins to sink its claws into me. 

His finger curls under my chin. The gentle weight of him pulls me from the quicksand of my mind. 

I’m transfixed as he sings to me.

My, my those eyes like fire I’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre. 

A calm intensity settles in as I focus on the figure before me. Like a siren song his entire being draws me in until there is no one else. No crowd. Not even the band. Just him and me.

The music begins to build. I feel it in my chest. His hand lightly strokes my chin in invitation. The energy builds in my stomach and moves up my throat. God, it feels like it’s going to burst out of me. So I close my eyes and let it.

I will travel far beyond the path of reason. Take me back to Eden. Take me back to Eden

Our melody turns into harmonious wails. 

Take me back to Edeeeennn

My eyes open to a flash of white teeth as he grins down at me, the music continuing its heavy intensity. That grin against his mask and paint, looks every bit like the monster I mentioned. The music drops into a quiet tempo and he steps closer, leaning in as his hood brushes my cheek. 

“Stay.” He commands, before sauntering off, just as three chords are played. 

Well yeah I spit blood when I wake up

He crouches towards the swarming crowd as he recites the lines. Waving hands and screaming smiles line the front of the crowd. As I watch him move across the stage, I remember his painted marks on my skin. My cheeks burn as he approaches me again.

I need you to see me for what I have become

Long fingers wrap around mine, bringing my hand to grasp the microphone, joining him for the chorus. 

My, my those eyes like fire 

My voice is a sweet backdrop contrasting his, as we sing together until the beat drops off. The hand folded atop mine loosens, his arm falling slack and I let go of the mic. His free hand sneaks through my hair, cradling my head in his hand. The sounds of birds chirping flit around the notes of the piano. This intimate moment sets me ablaze as I remember there are thousands of people watching. Jealousy licks at my sides from the scrutiny of their gaze. I pay them no mind. 

His hands fall from my hair, as he lifts the mic, but sings to me.

I guess it goes to show does it not 

That we’ve no idea what we’ve got until we lose it

His words resonate through my chest. Understanding the opportunity tonight presents, I want to make the most of this night, of this connection, and just enjoy whatever is to come.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence

Sound pours from me as I join him singing once again. The music sweeps me along and I ascend with it.

We were tangled up like branches in a flood

What happens next takes me by surprise. Vessel loops an arm around my waist, drawing me in until my dress brushes against his belt. He screams the ending lines with such intensity I feel as if I’m being hit by a hurricane. I can barely make out what he’s saying. My heart seizes with another little thrill of fear. All I see is the fierce glint of teeth through the contortions of his mouth as the music fades out. 

Piano keys begin to play, as he leads me back to my place among the Espera. This is the last song of the show, Euclid. What a beautiful note to end on. I channel all the joy in my little heart into singing this final song. I know maybe the lyrics aren’t the happiest but I can’t help but feel light while singing it. Our voices fade out, as he brings things to a close.

The whites of your eyes, turn black in the lowlight

So give me the night, the night, the night…

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

We stopped by the dressing room long enough for me to grab my belongings and then he was leading me through more hallways. He holds a door open for me and I step into a gaudy locker room. Leading the way, I follow him through the space and into a long room. The harsh fluorescence glares off of the white tile lining the walls. On the left, is a mirrored wall of sinks and who knows what else. On the right, benches border each door frame, opening into showers. 

We walk a few stalls down, I hang my tote and arrange my clothes on the bench as he wanders away. Pulling out a hair tie, I twist my hair up into a messy bun. Butterflies twist through my belly as he returns to my side, hanging a towel on my hook. We’ve shared this entire night, this entire week, without seeing each other’s face, perhaps we’ve seen a deeper truth. Either way, I’m not ready for it to end.

Inspiration strikes and I stride back to the main door and begin to flick the lights off one by one until all that is left is the glow of the adjoining locker room. His masked face tilts as his attention focuses on me. Grabbing the door handle, I pull it closed behind me until only a necessary sliver of light shines through. Giving my eyes a second to adjust, I carefully make my way back to my bench. I feel another thrill of excitement at the atmosphere. The near pitch black, the silence all around us, almost like something you’d see in a scary movie. I hear clothes rustling from the bench he is at. I’m still working on undoing the straps of my heels when I hear the harsh splash of water against tile. Once all of my outfit has made it into my tote, I take cautious steps into the awaiting shower.

“I wanted to keep the mystery going but maybe it’s a bit too dark.” So dark, that I can barely make out the other person in my proximity. My hands feel along the cool tiles for support.

“Give it a minute. Your eyes will adjust.” He’s calm. Still. Giving me space to acclimate. No longer clutching at the wall, I can make out the shape of him easier. Barely, I see the steam from the water and pumps of soap attached to the wall.

“Will they adjust enough to be able to tell the difference between which is the soap and which is the conditioner?” I tease.

“Hmm might have to go with good ole trial and error on that” Our laughter echoes against the walls. 

Stepping closer, I let my gaze wander. The lines of his muscles catch what little light there is. My breath hitches, the difference in our height is exaggerated now that I am barefoot. The way he looms over me keeps his face masked in shadow. Again, the thrill of being alone with this strange, dark god shivers through me, bringing my awareness back to the arousal that has been burning all night.

“Well I will gladly volunteer as the test subject.” 

“And I will gladly accept. I didn’t want to assume…”

“I would actually prefer if you do assume.” I step closer to him. Even in the pitch black I can see his head tilt down at me.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

“I did.  I’ve never experienced anything like it.” I say almost reverently.

“Shall we keep the experience going then?” A shiver runs through my body

“Yes.” I breathe..

“Sing for me?” My brows jump up. Posting videos of me singing alone in my house and singing background vocals could not prepare me for this.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything” My mind goes blank all for one song. I take a deep breath to still my nerves. 

Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination

Tentatively, I recite the words.

Take a look and you’ll see

Into your imagination

There is no life I know

To compare with pure imagination

His voice joins mine. 

Living there, you’ll be free

I stop, allowing him to finish the verse

If you truly wish to be

Courage is easier found in the dark I realize, when my hands begin to trail along his chest and I continue singing.

If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it

Anything you want to, do it

My long nails gently scrape across his abs as his fingers trace the black paint along my chest.

“What a mess I’ve made.” The timbre of his voice sends desire rushing through me. Reaching back, he grabs something from one of the dispensers and lathers his hands. The creamy substance spreads down my shoulders as he begins to work out the tension in my muscles. His hands began to slip down to above my breasts. Working in slow circles. The combination of excitement and desire keeps my mind sharp despite the haze of lust. His thumbs swipe across my skin with a delicious pressure. Grasping the tops of my arms, he leans towards me and my lips hum in anticipation. His mouth grazes past my cheek. 

“I think… this is conditioner” He murmurs in my ear. I can’t help the surprised giggle that escapes me. I can feel his amusement even as he turns from me. The muted clicks of the dispenser can be heard over the shower stream. When he faces me again, the energy shifts. A thrill runs through me as he grabs the back of my neck with one hand.

“May I?” He echoes the familiar words he spoke earlier in the night.

“You may.” I breathe and his lathered hand begins running down my neck, as his other creeps up into my hair. My head tilts back. The glow from the distant light flashes off his sharp grin. His hand moves lower down my chest, as he works at the paint there. I’m not sure which is more arousing. Him painting me or washing it off. My nipples harden and a dull throb settles between my thighs just as his large hand sweeps over my breast. His fingers capture my nipple, flexing and rolling against my soft skin. I exhale shakily as he moves on to the other, giving it the same treatment. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into the water, washing away his claim, his touch laying stake to a new one. Then he flips me around, I catch myself on the cool tile wall. As he steps closer, I can feel him pressed against me. 

“I very much enjoyed having my mark on you, clear for everyone to see.” His voice is low against my ear, as his lips drag over my neck, gently nipping at my skin. The hand on my right hip slides down my thigh. My legs tense in anticipation. His fingers begin swiping in teasing strokes, closer and closer to where I burn for his touch. 

“Tell me, what has you so wet for me?” I let out a whimper as his fingertips slide through the evidence of his claim. 

“Was it on stage? When I whispered in your ear?” Stay. I shook my head. That definitely turned me on but it wasn’t where it started. The memory of us in the dressing room, with his hands around my neck flickers through my mind. Just that quick thought stokes the already well fanned flames of arousal.

“Before the show in the dressing room” I say and receive a hum of approval. I’m rewarded as his finger dips inside me ever so slightly. His strokes are shallow, only increasing my need for him.

“What about it?” His fingers slow, urging me to respond. It’s hard to think through the fog of my desire.

“When you painted my neck.” Relief washes over me as he picks up his still too slow pace. His left hand moves from my hip, trailing over my fluttering stomach, paying brief attention to my breast, before sliding around my throat. My thighs clench around his hand before I can help myself, my body vibrating with anticipation.

“Ah so this is what you like?” His grip tightens as he speaks and my hips rock back desperate for more than this teasing. All I accomplish is grinding my ass against his cock. He inhales sharply but presses himself fully against me. 

“So eager.” He laughs. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” His fingers still move at a languid pace, but curl deeper inside me.

“Yes” I nod enthusiastically.

“But it’s not enough is it?” I shake my head. Because despite the pleasure I felt, the need was greater. The need to feel more of him, to have more of him. He obliges, sliding in a second finger. I cry out, my cheeks heat from embarrassment at the echo. I press my lips together, stifling my moans. His fingers still. He leans forward, his chest against my back, pressing me into the wall.

“Don’t stop singing for me now” He purrs and the rumble in his chest vibrates through my own.

“It’s just you and me. There’s no one else.”

I exhale heavily as my mouth parts. Right away, he rewards me with deliberate strokes of his fingers. The hand around my neck lazily works at the muscles there and waves of ecstasy shoot through me. My nails catch on the grout between the tiles as pleasure begins to coil tight in my muscles. I’m lost in the way my moans reverberate around us as his thumb carefully starts working my clit. It’s consuming. The stretch of his fingers, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me, playing my body like an instrument. His hips roll against my backside, grinding against me. I can feel the hard length of him, thick and hot against me. I begin to crave more and the thought alone of feeling all of him inside me brings me towards the peak. 

“Someday I will have all of you and you will have all of me. Until then I will have the memory of how wet and tight you are around my fingers. Wishing you were wrapped around my cock instead.” My hips rocked, practically riding his hand as the pleasure ramping up inside me spun so tight I felt it would snap at any moment. “Every time I look at my hand I want to remember how it felt to have you come on my fingers.” A ragged cry left my throat as his words pushed me over the edge. The tension inside me broke. Shattered shards of pleasure sliced through me as my body shook. His hand slipped out of me and I felt him work himself against my ass. Tremors skittered through me as I began to come down from my high. The cooling fire in my core alighting anew at the knowledge that he would soon follow. The hand around my neck had slid to brace himself against the wall.

“I want to feel you claim me again.” Shortly after those words left my mouth, I heard him groan. He shuddered against me as I felt hot spurts of him against my hip and back. His cheek came to rest against the top of my head. We stayed pressed against the wall as our breathing and heart rates slowed.

“Well I’m afraid I’ve made a bigger mess than when we started.” My body vibrates against his as I laugh. He pulls me back to the water and gets to work cleaning me off.

“Ves. Thank you, for tonight.” The nickname felt a bit strange on my tongue but appropriate given the standing of our relationship now.

“The pleasure was mine. Thank you for joining us and thank you for indulging me.” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I’m flattered… We will see each other again, you know.” Now it’s my turn to tilt my head at his words.

“Will we?” The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind. Everything happened so fast.

“If you would like… There is still so much left to explore.” Even in my sated state, the purr of his words spark arousal. 

“Oh I think I would like that very much.” Tension crackles between us. God if I don’t get out of here I’m going to be in over my head. Exhaustion was starting to creep into my bones. 

“I think it’s past my bedtime.” I say with a yawn. That gets a little laugh out of him.

“Well you run along home before I’m inclined to drag you back into this cave and never let you go.” Again, he’s teasing, but the edge in his voice promises something darker. “Or someone comes looking for us and turns all those awful lights on.” His hands grip my shoulders as he leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “We wouldn’t want to ruin the mystery.”

“We sure wouldn’t” Reluctantly, I walk away. I dry off the lingering evidence of what just occurred between us, slip into my clothes, and return to the harsh light of reality.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Camping Trip

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader (nickname Autumn)

Word Count: 3400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Listen. I don’t know. I just saw the picture in the upper right of my moodboard and came up with this. Ok fine I wrote the first 3 paragraphs in May and the rest now. Will and I are complicated, ok? Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for reading and listening to my ramblings as always!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

It had been a rough few months, no doubt about that. Somehow, I survived. Made it to the solo camping trip I had been thinking about for months. It's nothing I haven't done before. Even the trails and campsite are familiar. Still, it had been a few years and I was itching to get away from the city and all the noises it pounds into my head.

I head down the backroads, the pine trees growing thicker the further out I get from the city. At first I pass a lot of cars, mostly traveling into the city. But after a while, when the trees are so tall I can't see over them, so thick I can barely see through them, I'm the only car on the road.

I see the sign for the campsite and turn, heading down the dirt path to the small parking lot about a half mile in from the road. There are a couple of other jeeps and trucks here, one of them belonging to the park ranger who sits inside the small welcome center/general store. I head inside to use the bathroom, the last little "luxury" I give myself before spending a week away from everyone.

"Hi mis- Autumn! Haven't seen you for what...3 years?"

I smile at the man behind the counter, giving him a little wave. "Hey Jay! You're still working here? I thought you'd have retired by now." I grab a couple of bags of the beef jerky they have on sale. It's made by a local farmer and I can only get it here.

Jay chuckles. "Next year. Maybe."

"Don't push yourself too hard, Jay."

"Oh! Mary had her baby! Course she's 3 now."

"Oh really? Damn, 3 already?”

Jay looks at me pointedly. “Well that’s what you get for taking so long to come back and visit.”

Before I can answer, the bell on the entrance door jingles out and Jay glances over my shoulder. “Afternoon, sir! Can I help you with anything?”

“Just a trail map, thanks.” His voice is a little raspy, like he hadn’t used it for a while. I turn to point to the map stand but am momentarily frozen. 

This man is gorgeous.

Tall, short blonde hair, slightly longer up top. Military or ex military judging by the cut and the way he holds himself. But his eyes meet mine, slate blue and what was I saying? 

Jay pinches my arm. “Show him the maps, Autumn.”

I force a small chuckle to Jay, quickly pulling my arm from his pinching fingers and walk towards the blonde man and am hit with the scent of pine, leather, and old spice. Normally I would not be into the latter on a man but the way it mixes with his natural scent is going straight to my head. And other places.

“Here,” I somehow manage to walk past him and grab a map from the spinning holder, turning to hand it to him. The man takes it, his eyes twinkling before he gives me a quick wink.

“Thanks, darlin’.” His eyes quickly flick down my body, or maybe I’m imagining it? 

“You check the weather before coming, sir?”

His eyes are on mine still for another moment before he turns to address Jay. “Yeah I did. This isn’t my first time camping.”

Jay nods. “Military?”

The man chuckles. “Vet. Am I that obvious?”

Jay shrugs. “Not exactly. I just know people. Well, as long as you know what you’re in for. Shouldn’t be too bad but just make sure to stay warm. Not sure how long you’ll be here but if ever a blizzard alert comes up, you come right back here, ok? There’s a small cabin out back that’s open to campers 24/7.”

“Thanks.” The man takes his map, declining Jay’s offer of a bag. He glances back over at me. “See you later, darlin’.”

Fuck. Me. “See you!”

It takes me the usual couple of days to make it to my favorite spot, but I breathe a sigh of relief when I break through the trees, the breathtaking view of the mountains and lake spread out before me. It feels like coming home. 

I get to work setting up my camp, fire and tent good to go, my food hanging from a bag in a tree. I managed to find a place with a good fallen log, perfect for sitting on or against and close enough to the fire so I can keep warm. The wind blows through the nettles of the tall pines around me, the cool, misty breeze coating the exposed skin on my face. I take a deep breath in and out. I really missed being here. 

I do turn on my high powered radio to listen to the weather report twice a day, making sure nothing unexpected is coming. There’s something the weathermen are looking at, but they don’t think it’ll be anything. Still, the temps are sure to drop in a couple of days and there may be a bit of snow. I’m prepared for it, but it’s still good to know. 

A couple days later, I’m about a half mile from camp, walking along the trail near the lake. So far, I’ve seen a couple of deer and a ton of birds. I’m stopped, leaning against a tree trunk to take a quick break when I hear the sound of footsteps on the path ahead. I know I’m not the only one camping, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t instantly on alert. Another couple of seconds of hearing the sound and I know it’s human. From around the curve of the path emerges the man from Jay’s, his pack full and looking heavy. He sounds a little winded and had obviously been walking for a bit. I straighten myself and wave to him.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you here!”

The man glances at me and smiles, the same one from the shop. “Hey…Autumn?”

I nod. I tell him my real name. “But Jay’s been calling me Autumn since I first came to this trail.”

“Let me guess. It was during Autumn?”

I chuckle. “Jay is original.”

He comes closer, but stops several feet away, breathing heavier. “I’m Will.”

“Nice to meet you, Will.”

He nods to me. “Same.”

He still doesn’t move. “I don’t bite, you know.”

He cocks his head, confused, but then seems to piece it together. “Oh. Well, I didn’t want to freak you out by invading your space.”

I’m fairly positive if this man wanted to take me down, he could’ve done that, several feet away with a pack on or no. “Thank you. That’s…unexpected. And kind.”

“Don’t other people do that?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Oh. Well they should.”

I shrug. “Maybe….but Will, you can come closer. It’s alright.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why?”

He remains rooted to the spot. “You don’t think I’ll take advantage of you?”

I snort. “I’m fairly positive you could’ve done that already, Mr. Military. Don’t threaten me with a good time.” What the fuck did I just say?

I swear I see the tips of his ears turn pink as he chuckles, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. “A good time it would be.”

He comes closer and I gesture towards my bag which is resting against a log. He takes his own off and sets it beside mine, shrugging and stretching his shoulders a bit. “I really should’ve taken a break before now. Gettin’ old sucks.”

I chuckle, my eyes roaming down his arms, the flannel on his shirt hugging his biceps in all the right ways. 

“You look in great shape to me.” 

His eyes meet mine and we stare at each other for several moments before I blink, shaking my head a little to rid myself of the not at all PG thoughts I was having.

“So…are you trying to make it back to that cabin before the weather moves in?”

Will clears his throat, giving his own head a little shake before crossing his arms across his broad chest. “That was the plan.”

“Have you listened to the weather station today?”

He furrows his brows and I melt. “No, why?”

“The uh..storm? Is moving a little faster than they thought. No way you’ll make it back to Jay’s cabin before it starts to pick up.”

“Shit.” Will sighs, bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I really thought I’d be able to make it but my leg was acting up.” 

I can tell he’s not used to this, needing breaks. He seems like the kind of guy that just pushes through the pain. Until it pushes back.

“Come on. You can stay with me.” I push back from the tree and lean down to get my pack, swinging it up on my back. When I look back up at Will, he’s staring at me, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Did you just invite me to your camp?”

I adjust the straps on my shoulders. “Yeah. Let’s get going so that way we aren’t stuck.”

“You trust me?”

I click the last strap into place across my chest before I look at him. “I thought we established that I do.”

He studies me for a long moment, his eyes moving between mine and I swear he glances down at my lips. “You sure you have the space?”

I shrug. “May be a little bit of a squeeze but temps are dropping anyway. We can always find a way to get warm.” What did I just say?

A small smirk spreads across his beautiful face. “I’m sure we can, darlin’.” He leans down and grabs his own pack, situating it on his back before he gestures to me. “Lead the way.”

Talking to Will is easy, comforting almost. He tells me about his time in the army, Delta Force, and his brothers, including his real life brother Benny. A golden retriever of a man if I ever heard of one. He asks me questions about my life and listens intently, actually interested in what I have to say. Before I know it, we’re back at my camp. Will stops for a moment, staring out over the lake at the mountain behind it and whistles. “You found a hell of a view.”

“Thanks. It took me a couple years to find but now it’s like home.”

Will helps me start a fire and get food cooking, laughter and conversation flows just as easily as before and I find myself gravitating towards him, physically. But he also seems to be scooting closer and closer until our legs are nearly touching. Snowflakes start to fall, coming in faster and thicker.

“We should probably get the sleeping bags set up before it gets hard to see,” Will suggests, his breath puffing out in tendrils in front of him. 

“Good idea.”

Will gets the outside of our little camp ready as the sun starts to dip and night comes. We manage to get in the tent before the snow really starts to come down. It’s a little bigger than a one room tent, but we’re still pretty snug in here now that there’s two of us. And he’s so fucking broad. I shift my sleeping bag over a bit more and Will slides his down next to mine. He looks between our bags and then up at me, his eyebrows pulled together in slight concern.

“What is it?” I ask nervously.

“It’s…nevermind.”

I punch his arm and have to choke back a scream at how firm it is. “Just tell me.”

He chuckles while he dramatically rubs his arm. “Ouch,” he smirks as I roll my eyes. “But we should zip our bags together. For warmth. It’s about to get pretty cold.”

“William Miller. Are you asking to get in my sleeping bag with me?”

He shifts nervously, his ear tips turning red. “No! I uh, that’s not… I mean, it’s basic survival. I didn’t mean.. I don’t want you to think-”

I laugh then, cutting him off. “Chill out, Will. I know how you meant it. You’re a nice guy. I just like watching you blush.”

He rubs at his face. “You’re dangerous.”

“How dare you, good sir. I am a lady.”

He snorts and I swear under his breath he says “I bet you are.”

We get the bags zipped together and slide down in them, trying to leave as much space as we could between us. After several minutes of us shuffling around awkwardly, Will chuckles.

“You wanna be the big spoon or the little one?”

My laughter rings out in the tent joining his, tears streaming down my face at this brilliant tension breaker. “I’ll be little,” I choke out. I turn around, facing my back towards him. I feel him scoot closer and heat instantly rushes through my body, pooling between my thighs. Can he hear how my heart is about to beat from my chest?

“Is this ok?” Will’s breath fans out over my neck, goosebumps erupting in it’s wake. 

“Uh..I uh…y-yeah. All good. Is it uh, close enough? For survival, I mean.”

Will clears his throat. “Uh, well I mean. We should probably be, uh, closer. To stay warm. For survival, of course.”

“Well if it’s for survival, scoot as close as you want.”

He makes a choking sound but shifts closer, his body molding to mine. I can feel his hand hovering, unsure of where to place it. I reach back and take it, gently placing it on my hip, trying to ignore the heat that immediately ignites, flowing down between my legs. The wind blows outside, the tent rustling with it. I shift my hips a little and Will’s grip on my hip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. And I can feel something else pressing against my ass and I swallow hard.

“You’re going to have to stop moving around, darlin’. Please.” He chokes out the last word, sounding restrained. 

I take a deep breath. “What if I don’t want to?”

His grip tightens even more and I know I’ll bruise if he keeps it up. And I don’t care if I do. 

“I’m trying really hard to be respectful, Autumn.”

I glance over my shoulder at him. “Don’t be respectful then.”

A quiet growl emanates from him. “What are you saying?”

I make sure I have his gaze. “Be disrespectful. If it’s permission you want, you have it.” 

He watches me for a long moment before I feel him shift, his arm that’s not gripping my hip sliding under my neck. He twists his wrist, sliding it down to unbutton my shirt, his hand finding it’s way down my shirt and under my bra, gently swiping his fingers over my nipple. But at the same time, his other hand slowly moves from my hip, pulling my leg up and over his own, his hand gently teasing my skin as he pushes it under my pantline and between my legs, another groan when he feels how wet I am. I gasp as he nips at my shoulder. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, Autumn.”

I try to respond, but instead a moan escapes me as his fingers start to play with me, gentle circles with alternating pressure as all my blood rushes between my legs, that fire igniting rather quickly. 

“Will, I’m gonna…” I’m not entirely sure what I say as I come, my leg twitching as my body soars, pleasure radiating out from between my thighs, spreading throughout me.

“Feeling warm?” Will speaks deeply in my ear, nibbling a little on my ear lobe.

I nod, my head flying already. “You didn’t even take my clothes off.”

He chuckles against my neck. “I told you I was respectful.”

Surprising even myself, I reach behind me and grab him over his pants. He grunts but pushes against my hand, no doubt relieving some of the pressure. I turn my head towards him, my lips barely brushing his. “Please, Will.”

His eyes are like a storm at sea, blue and wild, darkening. “Tell me.”

I take his hand and push it between my legs where I was growing wetter by the second as I push my hips back, grinding on him. He grunts in my ear. “You gotta stop doing that or I won’t be able to hold myself.”

My hand, still over his, pushes his fingers towards my entrance, his thick fingers circling me, heat and anticipation swirling around me. “D-don’t hold yourself back. Fuck me, Will. Please,” I’m not above begging at this point, his finger continuing to edge me along. But then he’s pulling his hand out of my pants, trying to sit up but struggling because we’re in a sleeping bag. 

“Take off your clothes before I rip them off.”

That command went straight through me, my fingers moving quickly to take off all my clothes, tossing them out of the sleeping bag. Will does the same on his own, starting his own neater pile outside of the sleeping bag. I lay back down, assuming he’ll want the same position. His fingers skim across my side, watching the goosebumps pimple up. But then he pushes my hip down, turning me on my back as he slides over my body, my legs opening as wide as I can to give him space. He’s heavy, fuck he’s so much bigger than I thought as he presses against my clit, hot and pulsing. His eyes find mine, a dark twinkle in them as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. I part them and he slides his tongue inside, the kiss quickly heating up as he starts to move his hips. He slides himself over me, back and forth across my clit, swallowing my moans. My fingers dig at his back, silently begging him for more. The pressure is so intense, so much, that if he doesn’t fuck me now, I may just pop. Or go insane. 

Then Will gently takes my wrists, pinning them on either side of my head. His hips shift and with a confident stride, he pushes into me, my head pressing back into the pillow as I feel the pleasant burn, my body stretching to accept him, all of him. He pulls his hips back and pushes in, this time with a little more force and I feel a jolt through my body as he hits some spot at the back of me. I whine as Will continues to fuck me, slowly but forcefully, heat coursing through me. And then, I snap, crying out his name as I squeeze around him, my entire body lighting up and carrying me away from myself, my release made more intense by being pinned under him, unable to move away from the intense pleasure. 

Will’s breaths are heavy, panting out with restraint, like he’s holding himself back. He kisses me again, hard, nipping at my bottom lip before pulling back and out, but before I have a chance to feel too empty, he somehow flips me on my belly, my boobs pressing into the sleeping bag as he arcs my hips up just enough for him to slide in easily, my body greedily taking him in. He lays on top of me, his arms over mine as he laces his fingers with my hands. The weight of him both on and in me sends heat right back between my legs. He bites at my neck and shoulder as he fucks into me, deeper and harder with every thrust until I’m coming again, screaming his name into my pillow as I feel his hips sputter, Will whining in my ear as he spills inside of me. His body slumps against mine, both of us trying to catch our breath. Eventually, he slides off of me and to my side, turning me and pulling me to his chest. He nuzzles in my hair, wrapping his arms around me again, one massive hand holding a boob.

“Warm enough?” Will whispers in my ear.

“Mmm..” I respond. “You didn’t tell me you could fuck, Will.”

He chuckles and kisses my neck. “I’m restricted by this sleeping bag, darlin’. I did the best I could.”

The whine that escapes me is loud. “I’d love to see that.”

“Well when I’m done with you after this camping trip darlin’, you’re going to need some time to recover. And then I plan on showing you exactly how my fucking is.”

General Taglist:

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[somniumfaults]

"The next time they touch what’s mine, the kitty's collar will be so tight nobody will hear it meow.”

wrote some yandere taiga for myself and also as a warmup while trying to get into the groove for a commission. i don't really know that i think this is taiga's brand of yandere exactly; i think he'd actually be a bit different from this. but i was just having some silly fun daydreaming about him roughing me up hehe.

⚠ THIS MAY NOT BE TO ALL AUDIENCE'S TASTE! READ THE TAGS! & MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ⚠

pairing: taiga hoshibami x reader

rating: mature

prompt: "The next time they touch what’s mine, I'll cut their fucking arms off.” (I did not end up following this completely lol)

tags: established relationship, yandere!taiga, masochist!reader, implied sexual content (they're horny dude), briefly implied cnc free-use fantasies (like, two sentences), not that he'd ever actually let u do that, you're so into him being a freak dude, toxic codependency yay <3, violence/violent tendencies but its taiga so like whats up amirite, uhhh lmk if u think anything else should be tagged thx

The teeth that sink into your bottom lip burn. Well, more than it usually does, anyway. Burning is familiar; it rips through your flesh like nails digging into skin just to prove that you're still alive in a world that wants you to be nothing more than a corpse falling apart at the seams. It's warm and violent and something you welcome with open arms at this point; you're used to relishing in ruby reminders that your reality exists outside of a dream, but this time it HURTS ITS HURTS IT HURTS ITSHURTSHURTSHURTSHURTS---

"OW!" You gasp, tears pricking at the edges of your eyes in a futile attempt to hold back a sign of weakness. A singular tear shines in the light of a crystal chandelier as it drips down the curvature of your cheek.

It never has the chance to hit the floor.

Thin fingers, deceptively fragile in their appearance, squeeze your cheeks. Your skull aches under the pressure, and you make no move to move your hands from where they rest on his shoulders.

"Suddenly everyone wants their own damn kitty cat," Taiga's voice is low, bordering on gruff as he stares you down with a familiar intensity. It sends a shiver down your spine, anticipation and trepidation inseparable. It doesn't escape his notice. It never does. "Gyahaha! Oh my god, you like that? A public use kitty left out for everyone to touch and tease? A pretty lil stray anybody could take home?"

You don't, not really. The idea isn't even appealing, but the way he looks right now -- his eyes a shade darker, lidded as he stares you down. Laughter only as humorous as the subtle fury laced through his smile and the groan you let out as his fingers carve bruises into your cheekbones. It's a thrill unlike any other, the adrenaline of your next hit delivered straight into your heart and promising, "Till death do us part."

Your eyes flutter as Taiga leans in towards you, savoring the gentleness of his cheek against yours. His hair tickles, and you can't help but think his new conditioner was a good choice.

"The next time they touch what’s mine, the kitty's collar will be so tight nobody will hear it meow.”

[fallen-gravity]

just got home from seeing moana 2! I thought it was really good, though not even remotely comparable to the first movie.

Moana and Maui you will always be my beloveds, I'm happier than anyone can imagine that they kept their dynamic platonic even though they could've gone in a different direction if they wanted to.

some pretty big spoilers under the readmore, just want to scream somewhere lol

y'all Maui still being the incredibly sarcastic and stoic "i'm great nothing bothers me ever" but crumbling to pieces every time something involved Moana absolutely destroyed my soul, I was screaming my head off in an empty theater at I could pull up millions of islands but if you're not there to land on them...

and god. god. GOD. Maui getting struck down by Nalo and losing his tattoos and hook and his first instinct being to dive into the water to rescue Moana? holy shit. The symbolism? Maui, being tossed into the sea with nothing, just as his mother did to him, diving right back in to save Moana, the person he gives sole cerdit to for the reason he feels like himself again. He has nothing, but it doesn't even mattter.

When Moana was dying in his arms and her ancestors showed up to answer the call of Maui's song there was a brief moment where I thought they were going to take her away and she'd be standing in front of him as a ghost and that I was gonna have to prepare myself for that goodbye

but AUGHHHHHH, her ancestors and her grandmother being the ones to decide that she earned demi-godhood rather than one of the gods themselves took me the fuck out. I'm a mess, don't look at me, if Maui is the demigod of the wind and sea that must make her the demigodddess of bringing others together. i'm unwell. i'm sick to my stomach. I can't believe all of those fics we wrote as overdramatic aus back in 2018 were right. I was screaming my head off. [old friend i'm not gonna tag], your fic in particular came to mind. i hope you're still out there. I hope you see the similarities too. holy shit. i'm gonna throw up.

CAN I GET A CHEE-HOO, ough, welcome back warrior face, i'm so happy they were able to rework and rewrite that song into the sequel, I love moana and maui's dynamic so fucking much and I feel like this song is a great representation of that!!! they're each other's biggest hypemen fr. no moping around!!! hero time!!!! you're the best!!! you're the greatest!!!

and all those instances at the start of the movie where they kept thinking they were seeing each other and went to try and hug empty air. god. maui you gd idiot, you're lucky you went back to Motunui with everyone at the end of the movie or i would've strangled you.

good shit!!! I'm probably gonna end up seeing it at least one more time in theaters before it's inevitably pushed to D+. I get and agree that it won't ever live up to the first one, but as someone who lived around the fandom for ages and read dozens upon dozens of fics that this reminded me of, I had a great time <3 <3

[roomwithanopenfire]

Stats Wednesday

I am many days late for sharing my March stats, but I still want to share! I have not written any words at all in many days, but i'm begining to write again. This post is kinda long, so expect graphs, stats, and musings under the cut. And I promise there IS a snippet down there somewhere :)

I posted 1 thing in March, and it was technically posted April 1st, but I'm counting it as March since that's when I finished writing it. It's a short ronance one shot for Stranger Things, if that interests any of you!

Total words written for March: 14516 (despite me falling off the writing wagon in the last week of the month this still beats Feb by 100 words!)

Days I met my writing goal (200 words): 24!

Days I didn't write or edit anything: 6

Day I wrote the most: Mar 2nd with 2422 (this beats last month's highest WC of 2249!)

Number of Fics worked on: 9 (but a bunch of these are small oneshots I'm hoping to finish for Carry On Sapphic Week!)

Daily Average: 468 words (but like always i am highly inconsistent and my WC varies wildy depending on the day)

And here's my WC distrubution pie chart!

You get to know the WIP name of SECRET project (Letters) now (not that knowing the name makes anything clearer lol). Also I worked a lot on THTHIPWGI last month, which was going to be a longer fic for COSW, but tbh I don't think I'll finish it anytime soon and it's probably doing to be on the back burner for a bit. Here's hoping I'll get to it one day.

Some thoughts:

I am very glad I decided to backtrack and make this post because i thought I written hardly anything in the month of March, but actually it was only a week of no writing and i'm doing amazing

However I have not written a word since March 25, but I started writing again yesterday so I'm back on the wagon. april's word count will likely be pretty low, but that's okay because i'm SO busy with school and stuff. Soon I will be free.

I should stop making promises about The Way We Are. i have such a love/hate relationship with that fic. I love it so much, but it's the hardest thing i've ever written, and i feel like the amount of effort it takes does not show in the final product. I literally have just one scene left to write it should NOT be taking this long. If you look at my chart it looks like i wrote a LOT of words but most of those have since been deleted.

There are two (2) reasons I haven't been writing as much. 1) i've been a bit of a funk. 2) I binged watched all 120+ episodes of 9-1-1 in less than 3 weeks and have since read many tens of thousands of words of fanfiction. Sorry to everyone who will now be subjected to my reblogs, i'm going insane. (also sorry if you're someone i've dmed since starting this show, it is like ALL i've been talking about)

My plans for COSW are kind of doomed, but I WILL be finishing at least 1 fic, you can count on that.

WAIT I forgot that I started a new fest last month too??? Okay, i need to stop beating myself up, I did a lot in March actually. Check out @carry-on-many-cakes, a very lowkey fest that me and @the-beard-of-edward-teach are running!!

Snippet from The Way We Are

The line inches closer to the door, and I take in the signs by the entrance.  Ghosts and ghouls must remain corporeal at all times. Please don’t touch the three-headed dog. All vampires are welcome here. (A sign that will help Marjorie and I cross the threshold.) Absolutely no mages allowed. I frown at the last one, thinking about my wand tucked into my arm holster.

Tags and Hellos!

@alexalexinii @aristocratic-otter @argumentativeantitheticalg @artsyunderstudy @arthurkko

@blackberrysummerblog @best--dress @bookishbroadwayandblind @bookish-bogwitch @brilla-brilla-estrellita

@cccloudsss @confused-bi-queer @cutestkilla @drowninginships @facewithoutheart

@fiend-for-culture @emeryhall @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife

@theimpossibledemon @jyae23 @larkral @lovelettersto-mars @m1ndwinder

@monbons @nausikaaa @noblecorgi @orange-peony @prettygoododds

@raenestee @rimeswithpurple @run-for-chamo-miles @shrekgogurt @simonscones

@skeedelvee @supercutedinosaurs @sweetronancer @talentpiper11 @thewholelemon

@valeffelees @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[grudgecollector]

Dark Carnival | Daryl Dixon x Juggalo!Reader

Summary: Even in the apocalypse you couldn't part with your cd player. Music was just as important to you as survival, and when Daryl joins you on a run, you find a record store and he finds out just exactly what kind of music you love so much.

Tags: Swearing, would this be considered a crack fic? Oh well, unspecified era, oblivious idiots, twd typical walker killing, implied reader being younger than Daryl, Possibly OOC, fluff, somewhat proof-read

Words: 1.9k

A/N: THE WAY THIS IS SO SELF INDULGENT LMAOOOO

I honestly wrote this for myself.

I quite literally laughed out loud when I typed out the x reader title. But come on, if you know me then you know.

I wanted to specify what exactly kind of music would be of interest in this off the bat so nobody can be like "yo what the fuck i don't listen to this shit?". Which is exactly how I probably would if I was reading this and the reader was obsessed with some shit i don't listen to.

To the 3 other juggalos probably in this fandom... you're welcome, i love you *kisses you*

Also I have never written for TWD for Daryl so haii, I just started rewatching the show after eight years, this was one of original hyperfixations if not THE original. So you'll probably be getting a lot more out of me.

also made a playlist to set the mood

The town was small, broken down cars dusty and long abandoned. Some were crisp from an explosion, the singed remains scattered across the worn down asphalt. Grass protruded from some of the larger cracks, nature beginning to reclaim the remains of the long lost world.

Signs on the storefronts were barely hanging anymore, corroded with rust that slowly ate away at the hinges. They swayed with a creak, filling the silence alongside your quiet footfalls.

Your fingers were tight on the freshly sharpened machete, prepared to take out any unsuspecting shell that was once human. The calloused pad of your thumb mindlessly brushed against the strap of the backpack you wore, eyes steadily raking over the desolate road.

The smell of incoming rain hung thick in the air, grey clouds overhead and distant thunder signaling the little time you had left on this run.

Getting drenched in a storm was the last thing you needed right now.

Daryl gently pat the back of his hand against your bicep, pointing towards a hobbling figure just a few cars away. It was a younger woman, she was probably around your age before she turned. The dress she wore seemed to have been purple at one point, now torn and moth eaten, leaves were stuck in her matted blonde hair, dried blood covering the side of her left cheek.

"You wanna take 'er down?" He whispered, glancing through the cloudy window of the gas station you both stood in front of.

You nod, any hesitation you would have felt years ago now a distant memory. You were quick to tiptoe cautiously towards the walker, glancing around the surrounding cars to make sure she was alone.

It's gurgled breathing filled your ears as you stepped closer, quiet raspy growls rumbling deep within it's chest as it stumbled along. Her skin was grey and leathery, the summer sun evidently cooking it's rotted skin over the course of it's lifeless journey.

Once it's milky eyes landed on you it let out a hissing growl, teeth gnashing as it's animal-like instincts kicked in. Making it's way to maul you to the ground, before swiftly being brought down by the sharp blade of your machete. The blade cracked into it's fragile skull easily, a telling sign that she's been wandering around for longer than you ever would want to if you were one of them.

In some way it brought you some sort of peace knowing that you could at least put these poor creatures out of their misery. Just as you would want for yourself if that fateful day ever came.

Daryl kept his watchful eye on you as you made your way back over to him. You pulled the stained white rag from your back pocket and wiped away the gooey grey mater.

"Think she's the only one for right now." You tucked the rag back into your pants pocket. You glanced down the road to look at the signs hanging from the other store fronts, your eyes catching on one in particular, "No way."

"What?" Daryl asked curiously, following your eyesight, "You see somethin'?"

"Oh I see somethin' alright."

A record store.

Even after the end times you still couldn't force yourself to part from your CD player, or any other various ways to listen to music. It was one of the only things that you still had, a way to keep a grip on your former self.

"Oh come on. We don't have time for all'at." Daryl sighed.

"Just five minutes, please Daryl." Your hands clasped together in a faux prayer, begging in a half joking manor. "I'll give you three of my cigarettes." You tried to bargain pitifully.

"Four." There was a smirk ghosting his lips, his attempt to remain serious beginning to falter.

You groan, "Fuck, fine whatever. Four."

He starts walking down the sidewalk before you. He missed the way your first pumped up into the air but still heard the triumphant whispered 'Yes!' that left your mouth.

You were careful to step over a fallen light pole, the remains of a small skeleton trapped underneath the thick metal. You ignored the prickling thought bubbling in your mind, not wanting your excited mood to be ruined.

Daryl looked at the neighboring store next to the record shop, mannequins fallen against the stained window.

"Alrigh' make it quick. 'M gonna check in here for some clothes, we'll need 'em." He peered inside the broken glass door for any signs of walkers before glancing back over his shoulder at you, "Anythin' happens you call for me."

"Aye aye captain." You salute him, a giddy smile making its way to your lips as you slowly opened the door to the record store to check the inside.

"'ere, keep the door propped open." Daryl nudged a brick in your direction with his boot, effectively using it as a door stopper.

Luckily for you the store seemed empty, no distant sounds of shuffling or scratching catching your attention. But you knew better than to let your guard down, your fingers gripped a little tighter on your machete as a reminder.

The steps you took were careful, avoiding the broken glass scattered along the floor in front of the display case, where the cash register sat. You walked towards the back of the store, fingers slowly grasping around the doorknob that led to the storage room. Your ear pressed softly against the wood before you pried it open, thankfully only being greeted by cleaning supplies and empty boxes.

The bathroom was clear as well, making that same smile from earlier come back to your lips. Finally, it was time for your very personal hunt.

Your fingers combed through the dusty plastic covered vinyls like a kid on Christmas day.

The last time you've set foot inside a record store was a few months after the outbreak, which seemed like such a distant memory now. That run gifted you with some of your most prized possessions, CDs that were now so overplayed they would skip.

A small gasp left your lips at the sight of one of the vinyls, "Holy fucking shit. No way."

One of the things you missed the most was staring right back at you, you felt like you just struck gold, your heart fluttering at the mere sight of the all too familiar character. In a way you felt like you had just been punched in the gut, this really was Christmas.

You were quick to make your way to the CDs, combing through them in hopes to find the same exact album. And not only did you find that, but three others, you could almost cry out from happiness.

It was ridiculous, it was always easy to find CDs for almost every band you listened to. You could easily find those in grocery stores your group would raid, abandoned houses or cars, they were everywhere.

But this? CDs for Insane Clown Posse? That was nearly as impossible as finding Atlantis itself.

It had been so long since you've listened to their music, you've completely forgotten what it even sounded like, the vaguest of memories barely gracing your mind.

Sure it was dramatic, but you felt as if God had just kissed you on the cheek.

"Find anything good?"

Daryl's sudden appearance made you jump, your fingers tightening on the plastic CD cover, the fragile material groaning under your harsh grip.

"Geez, better be glad I wasn' anythin' else." Daryl couldn't mask the sigh that passed his lips, shaking his head at your sudden carelessness.

"Daryl... I think I might be religious now." You whispered, eyes still glued to the small stack of CDs in your hands.

A snort left your companion. He glanced over your shoulder with a raised eyebrow, "Yeah, whatever you say darlin'." His tone was teasing, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips before combing through the rows of CDs himself.

He picked up a much too familiar CD that you remembered fondly from your own childhood. A Creedence Clearwater Revival record your mother would play whenever she would clean the house.

"Oh man..." You gently grabbed it from his hand, the sting of tears threatening to form in your eyes. "This reminds me of my mom."

You were quick to stuff a few more CDs into your backpack, which was growing heavier the longer you wore it. Your shoulders were aching, but you persisted on your hunt, grabbing a few more before finally sighing.

"Alright I think I'm done."

"Ain't got no more room in your bag anyway." Daryl joked, knowing his was not much better, being weighed down by any intact clothing he could get his hands on.

The walk back to the truck was thankfully short, giving your tired legs a break as you finally slid across the ripped leather seat. Your fingers unzipped your backpack, peering inside with a smile. This was possibly the best run you've ever been on, all the medical supplies and food be damned, this was all you ever needed to keep you sane.

"What even is that anyway?" Daryl asked, glancing briefly at the CD you held gently.

You ripped the plastic covering off carefully, as if it would crumble if you were too rough. For a brief moment a memory of your teenage life flashed through your mind. A simpler time where all you had to worry about was failing your math class.

"This, Mr. Dixon, is one of my fondest memories."

You could feel his eyes on you every so often, "Well, you gonna put it on or what?"

"I doubt it'll be your taste." You chuckle, not exactly imagining Daryl to be one to enjoy circus music meshed with rap and lyrics about killer clowns brutally murdering people.

"Who gives a shit. Just put it on."

With the excitement of a child you quickly, but carefully, took the CD out. Pushing it into the skinny slot right above the small dusty screen. The second the music started you felt like you were placed right back into the springy seat of your school bus. An angsty look on your face as you tried to avoid eye contact with your bully.

Oh how it made your heart swell with happiness.

The sound of clown horns, cartoonish sound effects, circus music, and crude lyrics washed over you like you had been baptized.

You couldn't help but look at Daryl to gauge his reaction, his face was twisted in confusion. His brows were furrowed, blinking occasionally as he tried to process what he was hearing.

"This is what you were fixin' to cry over? You kiddin' me?"

A burst of laughter left you before you could catch it, a smile permanently etched onto your face as you recited the lyrics loudly. Even after so long, you still remembered every word, having listened to these songs more times than you could count.

You miss the almost fond look in his eyes when he looked at you for a second, a smile finding it's way to his face whether he wanted it to or not.

"You can't say it ain't at least kinda good." You pushed his shoulder softly.

"This ain't good at all." He shook his head, "You really listened to this shit?"

You couldn't help but snort at the question, "Does it surprise you?"

"Nah, I ain't surprised," He pressed the eject button on the radio, taking the CD out and handing it back to you. "Makes sense now why you're so fuckin' weird."

The plastic cover snapped closed and you fished through your backpack for another, "Is this more your speed, old man?" The Creedence CD gleamed softly under the sun that peaked past the grey clouds, and into the truck.

Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with a smile ghosting his lips, "I ain't old."

"Whatever you say." You teased, sliding the CD into the slot and pressing play after a second.

[imjusthopelessenough]

Reddie (IT) Fic Rec

If there's anything that I consider myself an authority on, it is reading Reddie fics. This has been my hyper fixation since I watched the mini-series as a child. Since the glowup of the community, I have read SO MANY fics. These are all of the ones that I feel like are must-reads and have personally myself re-read countless times like my life depended on it. If you liked a fic, make sure to leave kudos and comments for the author! (Feel free to come and chat about it with me as well!)

Obligatory disclaimer: Just because I read a certain trope, or idea does not mean that I agree with it or align my values with it. Read at your own discretion.

the word's been passed (this is our last chance) - quarterdeck 44k one-shot

Summary:

“Uh, Spaghetti?” Richie waves a hand in front of his face, looking worried now. “Hello? Do you want to let me know whatever it was that was so important you had to drag me awake for it or -” “I have a turtle in my pocket that speaks to me in my head and is possessed by Bruce Springsteen,” Eddie blurts out. “Also I think it may be God.” Richie stares blankly at him. “What,” he asks flatly, “the fuck.” “Or a god, at least, I don’t know,” Eddie continues, “Either way, I think it was the one who brought me back to life, so. You know. The chances are very good.” -- It's been forty years. Eddie Kaspbrak is just trying to make it out of the river.

THE BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN FIC!!!! I feel like I talk about this piece at least once a week. If you at any point liked IT or felt interested in Reddie you have to read this fic. It is truly so amazingly well written, and I can't say enough kind words about it and I've read this fic at least 10x. Basically, Eddie comes back from the dead but he has a Bruce Springsteen turtle helping him guide his way. It's cute, it's campy, they're both dumbasses in love, and I believe this was one of the first instances of the iconic "The Turtle CAN help us," tag. A minor side note, quarterdeck is an amazing writer and will be recced either in this list or another list again. If you're looking for a good fix-it, dumbasses in love, and Bill rightfully getting his shit wrecked, look no further!

2. keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. - theappleppielifestyle 16k one-shot

Summary:

Eddie makes another noise, not quite a scream but not anything else either. Stan drops his hand. “Hey, Eddie,” he says. “Welcome to the peanut gallery. I wrote you a letter, but I guess you won’t get it now.” (Or, Eddie and Stan stick around as ghosts after they die. Unable to make themselves known to the other Losers, they have to find other ways to communicate.)

Big big fan of Stan and Eddie being sarcastic besties. I also love the ghost trope. This is such a good read. Basically, Eddie and Stan are ghosts and are watching the losers from the veil. We also get Patty in this one who is such an underrated character. If you're looking for a read that is slightly introspective but not super lore heavy that features Stan and Eddie, read this!

3. the mind's a funny fruit - joldiego 22k multi-chaptered (must have ao3 to read)

Summary:

A man wakes up in Derry, Maine with no memory and a hole in his chest. He names himself Richie and moves on from there.

Now normally, I am not a big fan of original characters being in fics. It feels random and inorganic and doesn't really serve a narrative focus. This fic is not the case! The lesbian B&B characters are so fun and cute and are actually fleshed out enough that you care about them! Basically, Eddie wakes up in the sewers and finds himself adopted by a sweet couple after not being able to be identified and has no memories. As time goes on, he slowly starts to remember things. If you're looking for a fic that highlights Richie's trauma from losing Eddie, the trauma of dying, and overall Loser Club feels, you should read this!

4. and nothing hurts anymore, i feel kind of free - elsaclack 13k one-shot

Summary:

“You have to remember,” Richie says. “You have to remember, Eddie. They need you. He needs you. They can’t do it without you.” Eddie furrows his brow. Everything about the conversation thus far has felt familiar, almost like hearing a once-beloved song for the first time in several years, but these words fall foreign on Eddie’s ears; he is very suddenly overcome with the distinct feeling that he’s no longer listening to Richie speak. He clenches his jaw against Richie’s shoulder, but does not open his eyes. “There isn’t a lot of time,” not-Richie says. “It’s watching you. It’s coming for you. For both of you.” The warning stirs something to life - fear, bone-deep and chilling. Eddie gets the feeling that he knows what it is, though he can’t quite grasp the memory; it slips through his fingers like sand in the breeze. The lights move faster, and Eddie does not dare open his eyes. “You don’t deserve this,” not-Richie says mournfully. “You never did.” “Why, then?” Eddie asks before he can stop himself. Not-Richie is quiet for a long moment. “He needs you,” he says eventually, “and you’re braver than you think.”

If there was a reddie fic that I could force everyone in the fandom to read, it would be this one because it is so underrated! I look at it and I can't believe that it's not one of the top rated fics because the writing is that good. All of their works deserve more praise, and it truly astounds me that more people don't know about them. The style that this fic is written in is amazing! The only complaint that I could really make about it is that it's not very read-aloud friendly due to said style. Each paragraph ending leads into another portion of the story which sounds weird, but it works so well! It's really hard to describe this fic so you should just read it and see what I'm talking about, it's not even that long!

5. you belong with your love on your arm - elsaclack 33k one-shot

Summary:

Maggie received the enchanted mantel clock three days before Richie’s first birthday as a gift from Wentworth’s Great-Aunt Grace. It’s a beautiful, ornate thing - three delicate, spindling silver arms branching out from its center, each arm bearing a sepia-tinted portrait in its thumb-sized head of Went, herself, and Richie, respectively.  Maggie can tell right away that it’s hand-made - one simply can’t find this kind of craftsmanship out of any old trinket shop down on Diagon Alley - and she finds herself fighting back an absurd wave of tears as she traces her fingers over the thin glass case protecting the clock’s face, watching the way Portrait Richie silently babbles up at the hand-lettered word Home over his head.

Another Elsaclack because I love them and they need more recognition. Obligatory fuck JK Rowling because this is an HP setting fic. This fic takes the two ideas of Maggie Wentworth loving her son more than anything and HP and forces them together and it's beautiful. Now, I am not a big fan of reading fics set from an outsider POV. I want to know everything that is going on and it feels like a waste of time to have to get to learn things from an outside perspective. Not the case here! The POV is very organic and nothing is really lost. Basically, this is a Maggie POV detailing how Richie meets the Loser's club and goes through Hogwarts, with slight canon from IT taking over at minor portions. Can't recommend it enough.

6. for a better run, pile your clothes - petalloso 13k one-shot

Summary:

Richie liked the thrill of knowing he had been just fast enough, the skim of air at a barely missed strike. He liked egging them on, a matador of the violent. Mostly though he liked the way Eddie made him feel, like he was nursing a broken heart before he could ever work up the nerve to confess and have it broken in the first place. And maybe that was fucked up but it was more than that, too. Eddie was wicked smart, stupid hot, brave and beautiful, and sometimes Richie looked at him and he was already looking back and Richie thought maybe. And then Eddie would bite his lip and look away and Richie would think no. (Vigilantes by night, best friends by day, Richie and Eddie are in love with both versions of each other)

Now, this is not tagged as such but if I had to describe this fic it would be as such: Miraculous Ladybug, College AU. And that basically sums up the entire fic. You've got the iconic four-square love angle superhero vigilante and they're in college trying to make it through life. It's a really cute AU fic and I love it a lot. If you're looking for less clownery and more dumbasses in love, this is for you.

7. Parent-Teacher Conference -trickdaggers 75k multi-chaptered

Summary:

Eddie loves his job, he really does. Even with all the shit a group of twenty-six ten year-olds can throw at him, he still loves what he does. Really, the parents are far worse than the kids, too many of them fitting the stereotypical mold of what an obnoxious LA parent is. He rarely interacts with them face-to-face, most discussion passing through the middlemen of their nannies and drivers, or via incessant emails about their uniquely-named child’s dietary restrictions. His actual students aren’t even the cause for at least half of the issues that plague him as a teacher at a private Los Angeles elementary school. Most of them are well-mannered, capable, socially aware kids, if not a little spoiled thanks to their environment. But then there’s Little Miss Peggy Tozier.

Now, I am not a huge fan of children centered fics. It often feels like someone just self-inserting themselves and the child has no depth and is kind of just...there. Not this one! Peggy is such a well-rounded character and actually serves as a plot point! Plus! As someone who is a teacher, the teacher life that Eddie leads here is very accurate and very funny. Basically, Eddie is an elementary teacher and has Richie's daughter in his class. Richie's daughter is a class clown, and Eddie repeatedly keeps trying to make attempts to rectify the situation whilst Richie tries to get in his pants. It's very light-hearted, the conflict quickly and easily resolves, and the pacing is done very well so you don't get that "nobody in the real world with a brainstem would do this." Highly recommend if you're looking for a light read that you can pick up and put down when needed with light easily resolved conflict!

8. if you could return (don't let it burn) - ShowMeAHero 19k one-shot (part 1 in a series!)

Summary:

“Not that I’m not enjoying our banter, buddy, but word on the street is you got a problem you could use some help with,” Richie says. “What’s bugging you at two in the morning on New Year’s Eve?” “New Year’s Day,” Eddie corrects again. “New Year’s Day, then,” Richie allows. There’s another beat of silence before he hears Eddie sigh audibly over the phone line. "I’m thinking about leaving my wife.” “Why’s that?” Richie asks. He’s already hooked. He genuinely cares about all of his callers and wants to help, but something about Eddie’s got its nails in him. Honestly, he doesn’t mind all that much. It’s a nice change of pace, to feel something. “We don’t get along all that well,” Eddie tells him. “I… I don’t know. We don’t really have anything in common. She’s sort of controlling, I guess. And I think I might be gay, so—”

I have so many feelings about this one. I love the trope of "we've never met but I would die for you." Plus, this fic is centered around Eddie saying Fuck Myra I want to be gay! Which is great! Without spoiling anything, Eddie is having a crisis and wants to divorce his wife. He finally gets the courage after listening to his favorite radio station which is hosted by Richie and calls into the station during a listener segment to let them know. He then continues to keep calling in and informing Richie and his listeners of his life accomplishments. There is unfortunately no Africa by Toto. I will say the part two actually deals with clownery and is a continuation and should be read but isn't needed. If you're wanting a canon divergence meet cute, read this!

9. footprints in the snow - hyruling 62k multi-chaptered

Summary:

Eddie meets comedian and rising star Richie Tozier at a comedy club, and his life is promptly turned upside down. His Twitter followers jump from 80 to 80,000 overnight, he's being photographed in the subway, and the dreams that have plagued him his entire life are becoming increasingly specific and haunting. Richie feels strangely like the home he's long forgotten, and falling into friendship with him is the easiest thing he's ever done. But the closer they get, the clearer it becomes that Richie is hiding something.

I won't lie the situationship in this fic made my fight or flight activate but it's a very good read and I believe this is one of the fics that the fandom in general regards as a must read. Now, I haven't re-read this one as much as I've re-read other fics in this list but it stands out in the list for its ending. I genuinely bawled big boo-hooed my eyes out reading it. The plot, without giving anything anyway, is very intricate and well done but explained well enough that you can understand what's happening without feeling like that picture of Charlie from It's always sunny. If you're looking for a fic that is very plot heavy, very heavy on the fornicating, and want a FWB to lovers, this is for you!

10. Tales Of A Washed Up Nothing - TheBlackLagoon 8k one-shot (part 1 in a series!)

Summary:

In which Richie watches too much Cheers, Sees a therapist, Gets a pet turtle and Saves Edward Kaspbrak’s life by playing Street Fighter.

I love this series so much. It so accurately describes the relationship between therapist and client as well as how do you move on after your whole world comes crashing down. It's a very realistic dealing with trauma and death fic but has a happy ending (but you have to read pt 2) To summarize, Richie is in a depressed slump and starts having some funky turtle dreams all while trying to cope with losing Eddie. So good I love it so much. If you're looking for a fix it fic that focuses in depth on Richie's Big Feelings, read this!

11. tell me we're dead and i'll love you even more - quarterdeck 100k multi-chaptered

Summary:

Richie Tozier is a chatterbox. The infamous Trashmouth, most relentless of babblers. Always has been. Loud enough to wake the dead, is what his parents and friends always say, but Richie doesn't know how to tell them that the dead were never sleeping. If they were, he'd have a hell of a lot more peace, that's for sure. -- or: Richie's Voices have more of a basis in reality than anybody thinks. He'd say it's a secret he'll take to the grave, but even that wouldn't be the end of it for him

Another quarterdeck because I love them and owe them my life. This is such an intricate and touching story. Essentially, a canon divergence in which Richie is like that one character from Ghost Whisperer in which he can hear ghosts and therefore has more knowledge than anyone else around him. It is written so good, and you get really invested in the story very quickly. Also, Frank is in this! Hurray! Basically, if you want a Reddie fic that is super heavy on the story line that features supernatural elements outside of the clownery, this is for you!

12. i am easy to find -zach_stone 47k multi-chaptered (Must have ao3 to read and is part 1 in a series!)

Summary:

Richie grabs the edge of the polaroid and slides it out from underneath the comic books. It’s a picture of a group of kids, all sitting on a porch in someone’s backyard. He recognizes his tween self pretty quickly — stupid hair, enormous glasses that made him look constantly bug-eyed. He’s really hamming it up for the camera, grinning with his arm slung around some dark-haired kid with a cast on his arm. He can’t remember who the kid is, who any of these kids are, but the way they’re all huddled together and smiling like they really give a shit about each other… he doesn’t remember ever having friends like this. “Who the fuck are you,” he whispers at the kids in the picture. He flips it over, and sees his own childish chicken-scratch handwriting on the back. Bill, Bev, Ben, Eddie, ME!, Stan, & Mike. September 1989! -- Or, 25-year-old Richie Tozier doesn't know why he can't remember his childhood, or why he has nightmares about yellow eyes looming in the dark. Then he finds an old photo of friends he can't remember, and things start to change. A "what if Richie and Eddie found each other again during the 27 years" fic.

I've always found the concept of the Loser's Club not having any memorabilia from Middle School/High School and not finding each other ridiculous. Like yea sure they lost all of their memories from their primitive years, that happens to everyone, but you don't have a picture or anything? This fic rectifies that situation and applies the universal truth that Richie would have found Eddie in the 27 years if Stephen King hadn't been an overdramatic bitch. Very lore heavy fic that deals with PTSD and two dumbasses finding their found family <3 also Stan lives!

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[discoveredreality]

intro post <3

don't mind me editing this like every single day lol

my dm's and askbox is always open if u want to talk <3

anons are welcome too <3

also if u want to make new friends i am right here pls say hi im fucking lonely😭

anyways

BELOVED MOOTS <33333 (everyone is tagging them and this is fun)

this in no particular order just whoever pops up on my dash or smth idk. not every moots just the ones i actually know lol. ok so

@im-ur-sleep-paralysis-demon THEY'RE AMAZING LOVE THEM SM IF U DON'T FUCK OFF BECAUSE OMG KJHLGJKFJHLKYFJHKJGL

@ma-lan13 HELP MY BESTIE IRL GOT TUMBLR OMG OMG. AND SHES ACTUALLY USING IT WTF?????? ANYWAYS SHES THE BEST <333

@bloophasarrived SHE'S THE SWEETEST AND SO WONDERFUL. HER PERSONALITY SPARKLES AND OMG SHE'S SO FUN AHHH

@marylily-my-beloved I LOVE HERRR WE HAVE THE BEST CONVERSATIONS. SO NICE AND EASY TO TALK TO. AND WHY DOES SHE KNOW ME SO WELL <3333

@im-just-here4853 my vent buddy omg we just vent to each other i love her so much idk what i would do without her <33

@im-on-crack-send-help TWINNING IN LITERALLY EVERYTHING. SAME MUSIC TASTE. SAME TASTE IN FOOD. IN DRINKS. IN THE WAY WE THINK. WTF. ANYWAYS SHE'S MY POOKIE I LOVE HER <333

@the-gay-skeleton-in-ur-closet THEY'RE THE BEST OMGGGGG and they're nice and cool and shit <333333 i'm quoting myself it's fine AND LIKE SO NICE AND GOOFY AND EVERYTHING OMG

@cubemagnet somene i met on a random post and now we occasionally team up to correct grammar lol 🤓🤓🤓 anyways she's amazing :D and everything she says is so iconic like isjflsrijglruhglsuglijrsg

@book-girl4eva SHE'S AMAZINGGGGG. IT'S SO EASY TO GOOF AROUND W HER I LOVE IT. SHE ALWAYS SLAYS SO HARD. EVERYTHING ABOUT HER SLAYS. idk if you'll see this but this is for u pookie <3

@mil-pinterest-sss-here-i-am ??? questioning why we're moots. but he's literally so nice. literally will be my therapist and help me w maths because that shit is impossible 😭

@dandelionflowery omg literally so kind and everything all the time. so fun fun reading their fics and doing shit together omg

@sweetwarmcookies16 OMG RIJGDJFGIJFGIF THE BEST I LOVE PLAYING GAMES TOGETHER AND TALKING AND EVERYTHING. ALSO AN AMAZING WRITER

idk brain isnt braining ill add ppl as i go along

moodboards made by my lovely lovely moots <3

so far i only have one here cause i forgot to link the previous ones whoops 😭😭😭

about me

i'm ari. she/her. nicknames welcome. go wild. dude/bro/girl/literally anything is also fine. i use 'lol' and '<3' too much. minor. literally the biggest procrastinator and so disorganised i dare u to find someone worse than me. i'm indian but i live in australia. bengali/north indian idk. band kid :D my pinterest is here. PLEASE DM ME IF U WANT TO. I NEED FRIENDS. IM AWKWARD AND BAD AT MAKING CONVERSATION BUT STILL PLS 😭😭😭

personality/star sign or whatever

according to the mbti test here i am an istp-t. i am also a cancer. i found out my sun, moon and rising signs and the marauders version and i wrote it down and lost it so then i redid it and i lost it again so i can't bother at this point someone help me :(

time zone

Australian Eastern Standard Time (AEST) i think?? SUCK ON THAT AMERICANS AND WHOEVER ELSE EHHEHEHHEHE ;LSDJFSFJIJFDJF;LJ

my music taste

i love taylor swift, conan gray, olivia rodrigo, sabrina carpenter and honestly a lot of other stuff lol. also love bollywood music.

favourite books and authors

i love reading and i'm usually a really fast reader lol. i love harry potter (fuck jkr tho), kotlc, chetan bhagat books, the inheritance games, agggtm, literally all of karen m. mcmanus's books, the divergent series, pjo and hoo, lorien legacies, the selection, powerless, soc, girl in pieces, dictionary of lost words and bookbinder of jericho, all the books by amish, and a bunch of other books.

dni

idk the usual?? if u think ppl arent valid or you're literally an asshole. honestly you all can go get stuffed. idgaf

tag games and shit

yes you can absolutely tag me. i love tag games and chain asks. sometimes i may not get to doing it but i usually will and it makes me so happy when i'm tagged lol

tags

i don't post that much stuff so i don't really have mulitple tags for my posts. anything or any shitposting or thoughts will be tagged #ari's shit. for asks it's #ari gets an ask?

fandoms!

i'm literally obsessed with drarry but i'm mostly part of the marauders fandom. i'm starting to make my way through all of the marauders fics. i love love love hermitcraft. i'm an ethogirl literally who doesn't love etho?? also really into trafficblr. i literally love six of crows so much like omg. desperately trying to get through the magnus archives im only 8 years late haha i also love kotlc sm. (team foster-keefe forever!) i'm low-key in love with keefe sencen cause omg. aaaand also a bunch of other shit but those are the main ones idk bro

i'm bored and this is too long already might as well add more so here are a bunch of userboxes :D

and that's all not because i have self control but because there is a limit to images per post 😭😭😭 i literally had to delete some of my aesthetic images for this soooo

all the above photos are not mine, i got them off of pintrest.

my profile pic is obviously from the makowka picrew here

the beautiful dividers are linked here. these are by @saradika-graphics she is a literal star these dividers are so good

IK THIS IS WAY TOO FUCKING LONG AND I KEEP ON ADDING SHIT MORE SHIT SO IF U ACTUALLY LIKE READ TO THE BOTTOM THIS HERE IS FOR U LMFAO ILYSM <333333

[recurring-polynya]

Hi! I want to start off with saying I love your blog and it was this blog that introduced me to a new side of the Bleach fandom, so I owe you a huge thanks for that. My question pretains to when you mentioned that you read a lot of fics where Byakuya was there when his father died in the lines of duty, and I was wondering if you could recommend those fics and any other byakuya centric ones.

You're very welcome! I am always excited see new people in the fandom, especially here on Tumblr.

I want to preface this with saying that I have kind of a complicated relationship with Byakuya. He is an interesting, complex character and I like to read fanfic about him, but I hesitate to call myself a fan. I'm mostly interested in his character as it stands in relation to Rukia and Renji. I like stories where he is shitty and causes problems. I like reading about the long, horrible history of the Kuchiki clan, and how much it screws a person up to be raised in that mess. I also just like stories that make fun of him a bit. He's a deeply strange person, and I love his weird, dry sense of humor. Byakuya-shipping usually falls flat for me: I think he's mostly ace, except for the time he fell in love with his wife, and even then, I only really like Byahisa stories where the author has done something creative with who she is and I also need her to drag his ass a little. I would swipe left on him. So, anyway, take these recommendations (and the absence of ones I have missed) with that grain of salt.

The fanfic I was specifically referring to regarding Soujun dying after a mission he and Byakuya were on together was the Rise & Ruin series by @afinepiece, specifically part 2, An Education. It's a...little-bit-AUish precanon fic where Hisana is a thief who ends up getting tangled up in the Kuchiki family after she attempts to steal a painting from them. If you're looking for Byakuya fanfic, AFP is always going to be my first recommendation, especially her Thin Red Line series. Her works are always sprawling and genre-defying, but beautifully crafted. They've got noble/family drama, intricate world-building detail, and great character writing. The Kuchiki family deserves epics, and that is what AFP is out here doing.

Funnily enough, my other favorite ByaHisa writer is all the way at the other end of the writing spectrum. @thegreenfaery. She works in the AU space, and if you enjoy Byakuya Going Thru It but also being in love with his beautiful wife. I'm biased, because she wrote it for me, but The Wedding Party is my fave of her works (80's/everyone's human AU where Hisana has to rent out part of Byakuya's house for her little sister's dirtbag wedding).

If you like Byakuya in his gothic horror era, please read dogviolet by @renjirukia. It's a closer examination of some canon between-scenes during Byakuya and Rukia's Bad Times period.

I think @lucymonster is one of the best Byakuya character writers out there, and Metaesthesia is one of the best fanfics I've ever read. It's a Byakuya - Renji bodyswap, but not in a fun way. You should really only read it if you're in the mood to have your heart kicked down the stairs. I also really like Sticks and Stones and Building Bridges. Note: Most of her works are ByaRen (these are not, at least not explicitly). That's not a ship I am normally fond of, but I get, like 3 weird days a year where I can read it.

Speaking of ByaRen, if you are into it, the other ByaRen writer I like a lot is @grizmelder, who is also a very nice person. I particularly enjoyed Heart Tangled, which is a historical AU set at the end of the samurai era, where Renji is Byakuya's bodyguard.

I was just talking about Lull the other day, but it's a lovely little fanfic by Branch about the relationship between Byakuya and Rukia and sometimes Renji. It's an older fanfic and breaks off from canon after the Soul Society arc, so you can think of it as sort of an alternate idea for how Soul Society rebuilds after Aizen's betrayal.

The Journal of Kuchiki Byakuya by @saranel is a great little fic in the form of young Byakuya writing diary entries about his life, in particular, his dealings with Yoruichi and Urahara. It's really cute in general, but in particular, I love the way it portrays Byakuya's interest in photography.

I also have a soft spot for Breaking to Bridle by Vivienne Grainger, which is about how Byakuya sees Renji, both as lieutenant and eventually as suitor for his sister.

I guess I would be remiss if I didn't mention my favorite crack Byakuya fic, which is Become a Ghost by @hardlyfatal. Orihime dies and goes to Soul Society and becomes a therapist and falls in love with Byakuya. It's pretty silly but also a lot of fun, and it's chock full of Byakuya being Byakuya.

I hope you find something you like in there! Like I said, I am not the world's best Byakuya fan (probably in the top ten worst Byakuya fans tbh) but these are some that I have enjoyed and have stuck with me!

[nabiracha]

Those eyes... (Pt.3)

Hello, I hope you're enjoying the story so far if you're reading it :)

Synopsis: The scroll your father wrote wasn't what you had anticipated, nor wanted. But you have no choice, you knew this.

Warnings: Fear, nightmares

Those eyes...

The eyes of the king, a dirty yellow, like the forest leaves in fall. The eyes of the king...are the eyes that watched me in my dream. I don't let my reaction show, his voice snapping me back to reality. "Ah, I see the princess has arrived. How are you enjoying yourself?"

He spoke to me, his eyes watching me like I was prey. He must like to play with his food. "I've been welcomed well." I didn't mention Hyunjin seeming to have a stick up his ass when we met. "The room is nice," Minus the dust, but that's okay.

He nods, turning his attention back to the papers on his desk. I clear my throat, walking to the front of his desk. "My father has written a scroll. I cannot explain the details inside as I myself do not know." I spoke so formally, since he is the king of WolfGang. He held his hand out expectantly, no longer meeting my gaze for more than a second. 

We sat in silence as he read over the scroll, his eyebrows furrowing in what I assumed to be confusion. "You said you don't know the contents of the scroll, yes?" I nodded, my hands clasped together in front of me. "Yes, that's what I said, your highness. 

He didn't say anything for several, several seconds as he read over the scroll for what seemed like the third time. "Felix, get Minho." The king finally spoke, his voice not divulging any information on his emotions. Felix nodded without a word, leaving me and Chan in the room alone. His eyes don't meet mine when he looks up. 

"Your father wishes for me to court you, a marriage of convenience." I was silent for several moments, surprise flickering across my features. "I see."

Neither of us spoke, our gazes only moving from where we stared at the floor or the wall, when the door opened. Minho, I assume, was insanely gorgeous that it genuinely made me jealous. Of course, they all were. "Your highness," The man spoke. The king nodded in greeting, "Minho."

Minho's eyes met Chan's, their gaze hard for several moments before the king held out the scroll. Minho grabbed the scroll, holding it open as he read it. He seemed to read over it for multiple moments before speaking. 

"The Antarctic Kingdom and WolfGang are both very closed off kingdom's. I heard rumor of a war starting soon, Esk had gotten word of this too." Minho's voice rang through the room like thunder, shocking and full of dread. We all knew what war could mean.

"I assume he wanted to form an alliance with you to keep both your kingdom's closed off but also be able to call in back up if needed. As, I assume, he would do for us." The king hummed, rubbing his chin in thought as he stared at Minho. "So you think we should accept?"

I knew what this meant. I'd be wed to Chan, forced to carry an heir before falling in love, and possibly even never get to make my own choices again. Minho nodded just slightly, sparing me a sympathetic glance. Chan's gaze turned towards me, but he still never met my eyes. "And you, what do you think?"

Was he...really asking me? "I don't have an opinion, your highness." "Yes you do." My eyes widened a fraction, his response startling me. "Yes, I do. But I have no choice, so I shall accept what my father believes is best for his kingdom." 

He hummed, holding his hand out as Minho placed the scroll back in it. He dabbed the quill in ink, signing his name and handing it off to Minho. "Deliver this to one of Changbin's best" Minho nodded, leaving the room. 

The king leaned back in his seat, hands folded on his lap. "I will have expectations from you, as my wife and the queen of this kingdom." I nodded, waiting for him to go further into detail.

"You must not speak in public places unless told to. You will listen to me no matter what. That simple. Do you think you can do that, princess?" I nodded, cringing at the title. "I can, your highness."

After a bit more discussion the king dismissed me back to my room. The door shut behind me, my body relaxing just slightly. I felt exhausted, and I hadn't even done anything. I moved to lay on the bed, over the blankets. I hadn't realized how pent up I felt till the tears were rolling down my cheeks. What the hell has my father gotten me into? 

Marrying his only heir to the WolfGang King was a bold decision. But why had Chan accepted it so quickly? My mind drifted back to the moment our eyes met. It had made my body feel tight with energy, warm  in a way I had never felt, yet somehow like I was prey at the same time. His eyes were in my dream, why?

My mind was spinning with thoughts until I managed to pass out.

My breathing was heavy, a thin layer of sweat on my skin. My hair clung to my skin, tears rolling down my cheeks as I ran through the woods. I had no idea what I was running from, but I knew I couldn't stop running no matter what.

Howls in the distance made my feet pick up their speed. My feet were bruised and bleeding, and I felt like my lungs were on fire. But I didn't stop running, I couldn't-

I shot up in bed, gasping for air. I felt like I was being watched, my gaze moving the window. Sure enough, there they were.

Those eyes...

Sorry, it's a little short but I feel like it turned out well... Let me know if you want me to add anything!

[seaweedbraens]

Hi! I've been following your fics for a few years now and I was just wondering, do you have any tips for new writers? Specifically for fics that is. Any advice from planning a fic outline to just general writing advice would be hella appreciated!!

hello!!! welcome to fic, we're super happy to have you here <3 i'd love to drop you some 'tips' (i am using quotes because i am not sure if im qualified to give advice - and i'm not sure if it'll work, but here is what works for me!)

when i outline fics, i almost always know what my starting and ending is. i've definitely mentioned this before but i always always know my endling LINE, i dont start writing a fic if i don't know where it's gonna end up. again, this may not be you, so dont panic if it isn't! this is just how i begin.

since my fics are on the...ahem, lengthier side, i usually have 'sections' of content between my beginning and end. i write down (usually by hand, but it doesnt matter what you use tbh) significant 'events' or 'goals' of the section. for instance, as i was writing my bigfic (we could walk straight through hell (with a smile)) one of my chapter outlines looked like this:

since this fic used multiple character POVs, i also made sure to label which section was being seen through which character's eyes. sometimes, as i'm making my sections, i'll get inspiration for dialogue, and i include that too. as you can see above, i also highlighted sections as i completed them, though that's just more to keep track than anything else.

i wish i could give you more insight into writing, but really the biggest piece of advice i can give is to keep reading. reading fic is good but reading books is even better because you'll learn so many words, absorb so many kinds of writing styles, and learn what you like and what you don't like and patterns that you'll settle into. i have to confess i dont read much these days, which i need to change, but i used to be a voracious reader, and that definitely helped me as a writer.

i've been writing fic for a long time, though. so when it comes to writing fic in particular, i am a huge advocate for a couple of things (and these are pretty general, not necessarily writing-related):

don't force yourself to write!! sometimes you just arent feeling it and thats okay. i write in insane spurts - as i wrote wcwsthwas i occasionally pumped out 10k in a single sitting - but i go months and months without writing in between. if you're in a rut i don't think you need to force yourself out of it, because more often than not i've found myself dissatisfied with my work when i do force myself to write. as creatives, burnout is common, but because this is fic we're lucky enough that we operate on our own schedule. we don't need to push ourselves to write if we don't have to. but trust me, when you feel the urge to start writing again, it's wonderful, and the words will flow out of you!! just make sure you

stay inspired! again, reading good books helps you expand your own vocabulary, and it'll come in handy when you find yourself needing to write descriptions. observe the world around you, learn movements and expressions and how things and people tick. explore writing prompts and see what inspires you best (i took one look at soulmate au prompts and never looked back). it's cool to be inspired by fellow creatives online (just make sure to give credit if needed) but also try to be inspired by yourself! a lot of my fics stem from my own experiences and thoughts and emotions, and i think to some degree that resonates with people, which is always great. try to examine things on a deeper level. draw on memories from your own life and they'll hit more often than they miss. think about what makes your hurt, and rage, and cry, and flinch, and smile. remember the little things that make interactions so special. when you put yourself in a character's shoes in a certain situation, question why they'd act or react a certain way. and make sure

you do you. if your work doesn't sound beautiful and prose-y, that's fiiine. it's okay to keep it simple!! it was a bitter pill to swallow and it took me many years, but i have finally realized that my strengths as a writer are in my dialogue and emotional dump-writing. i don't think i'll be ever to be one of those poetic writers who can pull words from the trails of your thoughts like a some kind of sick magical literary genius. i have some friends who just. they write so BEAUTIFULLY and i'm so envious of them, but that's their strength, and i have my own. remember that!! and please for the love of god

don't worry about stats. write for YOU. this may sound lofty but i can't stress this enough. i was unfortunate to start writing fic when i was very young, and as a competitive little brat i was obsessed with the numbers. i desperately tracked every comment and like and favorite and follow. i let that dictate my writing, because i knew that if i wrote a certain way, made fics extra fluffy or whatever, they'd draw in more comments. i'd force myself to write more, update fics to show how active i was as an author in the fandom, and in the end, that truly sucked out the joy of writing for me. i found other ways to channel my creativity for a long time and then returned to writing. now, i write when inspiration strikes, and to my surprise and joy people still want to read. i love when a fic does well, but it doesn't debilitate me if it doesn't. writing for yourself, and for the love of a good story, and for the love of the source material, and for the love of writing, will make you a better writer. and on that note:

quantity does not equal quality. i've been asked quite a bit how i write such long fic but that's largely because i like to read long fic. i like it when a story is build up and fleshed out and you end up knowing everything about everyone. i like drawing out moments, giving characters depth and thoughts and relationships. a lot of my fics are full of extra padding that goes into building character relationships and friendships, because as an only child they are super important to me. HOWEVER there is real fucking skill required to write a short fic. to fit a beginning and middle and end into the least amount of words possible. it's incredible, it's a skill i wish i had, and deserves every laurel that long fics get. as a writer, if you find your fic ending earlier than expected, that's fine. you don't need to add more words just for the sake of puffing up the wordcount. at the end of the day, if your story shines, that's all that matters, and readers will respond to it.

im not sure if this will help you but this is kind of the bulk of what i've learned all these years writing fic. at the end of it all, what works for me may not at all work for you, but i'm certain that with time, you'll find your groove and carve out a niche for yourself, just as we all have. just remember: have fun! the internet is batshit and sometimes not the best place but my time writing fic has exposed me to the most wonderful people. writing will help you learn and grow in ways you won't be able to foresee now - just go with the flow and take it all in as it comes! be positive, accept critique and feedback and learn from it, and stay enthusiastic about telling your stories. feel free to message me anytime, and please drop a link to your fic if you ever post :) i'd love to read it!

sorry for the late response, and for making you read this NOVEL, holy shit. haaave a good day/night <3

[chairofchaos]

Evening friend!

You bring chaos to my life so here is a little chaos for you

2, 3, 5, 8, 19, 26

And just for fun because I know it will probably hurt me 40

Feel free to answer what you want and ignore the rest 🤍

GOOD EVENING.

Thank you for letting me bring chaos to your life, and for bringing me some in return. In your honor, I will answer all. Seemed like the most chaotic thing to do. I considered making separate posts for each question but then again that was a lot of work so just... bear with me. This is a long read, but hopefully, you will find it worth it.

2. Anything that you'd like to write but feel like you're unable to?

Yes. I am currently bouncing around multiple Greek/Roman tragedy adaptations of our beloved ACOTAR and TOG characters. I do not feel prepared to write these yet. I want to do them justice. That semester of studying tragic plays of the ancients has stuck with me.

3. How would you describe your writing style?

I don't even know how to answer this, but my best shot is this:

The vibe must be chaotic.

It must be written as fast as possible.

It should be entirely unplanned.

If it is planned, it should be entirely overwhelming and likely a bigger project than I should ever take on *cough cough* LETTERS *cough cough*

It's not a style as much as it is entirely based on my whims. And that's not always great. In fact, it's something I don't really enjoy about myself (comment on this and I will edit it out of this post so fast I SWEAR).

But I enjoy the product. I think there are at least a couple of you that do, too, so hopefully we can all enjoy that little piece of chaos together. If not, I'll just enjoy the pain I create on my own like a good little fanfic writer.

5. What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

I don't think such a thing exists. I don't like surprises? Idk, this doesn't really make sense to me. Clearly I have no problem tagging things Dead Dove so we all know what I'm up to lol

8. How slow is a slow burn?

Somewhere between 100 and 100k words. I genuinely do not care. Depends on the medium? The pacing? A slow burn described in a poem is going to look very different than a slow burn in a fic the length of The Iliad and the Odyssey. Or Wheel of Time (that's a long series, right?). I don't care. It's all great. I love slow burns. Haven't written one because I think those characters should be enjoying each other romantically on page 1, but I LOVE reading them.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

UNANSWERED STARS YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN. Is this what you expect to hurt (I haven't looked ahead at the other questions I'm doing this straight through, no edits, no takebacks. Welcome to Chaos- you get two.).

Eris was no saint, either. Cauldron knew he kept his mate up some nights. But the Cauldron also knew Azriel would get out of bed in the middle of the night and take off into flight, not returning until he knew Eris would also be awake. After the first time, they would rarely talk about where Azriel went or what he did. Instead, Eris would press a mug of overly sweet coffee into his hands and they would sit together in silence on the front porch, Azriel’s head on Eris’ shoulder and their hands clasped together. - {Working Title is Coffee and Psychotherapy. THIS ONE IS ACTUALLY FLUFF YOU CAN THANK DUSK-MUSE AND NINTHCIRCLEOFPRYTHIAN}

And maybe more along the lines of what you were expecting:

Azriel found the most enjoyment in the training and teaching of others. In his time as spymaster, he regularly found time to work with young soldiers, for which many have since thanked him, crediting him with saving their lives by instructing them in his limited spare time. In the years since the war, Azriel enjoyed collecting books from all over the world. The collection he amassed was the instigator for a library to honor his mate. - Death, and All That Follows (This may or may not be a sort of extended epilogue to something I wrote recently.)

26. What would you describe as OOC?

This is possibly a wild take: I don't think I care what is out of character for characters I write. It depends on the fic, sure. But I think perspective forms our understanding of characters, and seeing them in a new light can often bring a different, even "OOC" type attitude to fics which I often enjoy. I am very much an advocate for "Don't Like, Don't Read" not only for plot points but for characterization as well. If you don't enjoy the way someone writes your favorite (or your least-favorite!) character, don't read it. The beautiful thing about being a part of a fandom is the diversity of experiences within it.

I did not read Nesta's journey the same way you did, or the way your friend did, or the way my best friend did. I brought my own perspectives, my own experiences, to my interpretation of her actions, words, and thoughts. I came out of the other side loving her, and loving the way she loves. I recognize myself in her. I know I'm not alone in that. I know that there are a great many who do not like her in the slightest.

ACOSF Nesta was presented very differently to ACOTAR Nesta. (For the purposes of this argument, we are removing the debate about The Author Herself because I simply don't care at the moment and that's a much larger topic.) I don't think that anyone's interpretation of Nesta is "wrong" or "bad" because we all bring a pair of glasses to reading, and that glass is made of our experiences. That's the filter through which you consume the work. My glasses are different from yours. That's okay.

Little tangent while we're on the topic: I don't care if your glasses are different. But if you break those glasses to use the shards of glass for the purpose of hurting other people, that's a problem. I have a problem now, and so do you. Because of the inclusion of the argument above, it needed to be said, and so here it is: Don't hurt others because of your glasses. Theirs are different. Please learn to recognize that, and that it is okay to view pieces of media differently. Tangent over.

So TLDR on OOC: I don't care. If you want to write a piece where character canonically named Bubblegum Sunshine Princess because of her (in-canon) overwhelming joy and love of the outdoors and her kingdom's candy trees is a murderous assassin filled with rage and the destructive flame of a thousand suns, go right ahead. There's a very good chance I would love to read it.

40. Write a 9-word fic.

Title: This is a Thing [REDACTED] Learned. The title will be longer than the fic itself, and that's the beauty of The Thing [REDACTED] Learned. Thanks.

A/N: (Stars. My dearest friend. You expect pain here? Now I want to prove you wrong...)

Pairing: Your OTP. Or my OCs. Or is this about my life? Or yours? Who knows. I'm not currently well lol

...........................................

Knowledge came with no promises, no love, no you.

...........................................

All the love, Stars. You're the best. <3<3<3<3<3

[vacantgodling]

1, 3, 4, 8, 15 for the end of year ask game!! :3

hewwo thank you for the ask <3<3

1. what was your writing-highlight this year? what made it special and how will you reflect on it next year?

mentioned this in my writing in review for this year but finishing cage earlier this year really set me on a high note for the rest of the year. i really proved to myself that i can write 80k+ words in a single project; i can finish and fully flesh out a narrative, my dreams are achievable if i really put myself to it.

for a really long time i didn't think i could do it. there's a lot of reasons why i felt that way, but having people who kept up with every chapter, my partner and other friends like valen and multi listening to me rant ad nauseum about my ideas and thoughts, and giving myself permission to do something 'silly' turned out to be such a good decision. so i think next year i'm trying to take that energy into it. i'm writing for myself, my friends and my dick LMAO. but i'm also taking the strategies that i learned (ie: i need a long outline to finish something or i won't p much lol). so next year is really gonna be a planning year! i wanna have more outlines that i can go back and reread and become obsessed about sEUOSDJ

3. did you achieve everything you wanted to this year? if not, how will you go about it?

nah! but tbh i'm okay with it. getting distracted by other wips is just par for the course for me and my brain pfff so i'm not miffed that i got distracted by other things and paramour got put off to the side. i still think about paramour a LOT don't get me wrong; but khizzy and sjaak giving me brain rot is a welcome change.

i also could've never predicted i would get into conlanging--i barely knew what it was (outside of lotr really) but here i am a few months later with a whole baby language on my hands HAHA. i think i'm finally of the mindset that yeah writing is my life's purpose bc it would be meaningless without it, but its also a hobby and i wanna have fun with it <3

4. what is your favourite line you wrote this year?

this is so hard OSCJK thank god multiple people have asked this bc its definitely not just one. perusing through the things i wrote this year, i think one that stands out to me is from draft 3 of btaf (which is the actual Real Prose draft 1 attempt lol. its a whole tier system of me drawing this wip out) but its the first sentence kinda hits and i don't think i wanna change it cuz it sets the tone well:

The cruelest and craftiest of all the Devil’s handiwork—darkness—had descended upon and laid waste to the countryside.

something something, speaks of the savagery that is yet to be revealed later on, makes the wip super moody (the equivalent of the tried and true "dark and stormy night"), and alludes to the time period (cuz we're talking about the devil in deadass the first sentence PFF)

8. what are three things you're looking forward to next year?

i'm gonna be optimistic and say draft 2 (the elongated outline) of btaf will be done--i've been taking a break from it but multi's very sweet sweep of draft 1 has reinvigorated me with brain worms.

i also want to work more on he who smites the sun bc... khizzy beloved. and with that all of the wips from ph -> paramour i want to figure out how they're linked and their outlines etc

and then i think i'm just excited to just be more silly with what i write next year. i wanna get back into my art wips (tmc and broken clouds for instance) and write more smutty shenanigans with bruno and his mess. :D

15. time for shameless self-promotion! answer with a piece of writing you want others to see/read! (if you have nothing posted/published this year, any other year is fine too ^^)

this lore post about tcol which details MIZDARR and MUINENS's first meeting and how the harvest god KIBARUM was born. idk i really love the gods and mythos tcol has i should talk about it more. its not really writing writing but i want people to see it anyway :D

[wooedbywonu]

Que Será, Será : A Seventeen Anthology [Masterlist]

Welcome to Que será, será! This anthology attempts to let you foresee how life unfolded for the school boys, teenage dirtbags, and working stiffs. Take the stage and enjoy how fate orchestrated the future for thirteen men.

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Seungcheol

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Jeonghan

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Joshua

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Jun

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Soonyoung

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Wonwoo

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Woozi

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Minghao

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Mingyu

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Seokmin

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Seungkwan

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Vernon

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Dino

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Hi! So first of all, I've been planning to post this since last year. Originally, I was about to write something for/about Joshua BUT this anthology popped on my mind after posting one of my works.

Secondly, I wasn't really confident about my works, my writing style and especially how the anthology would go. I felt like everything I do is mediocre and would never satisfy anyone who would see it. However, after giving it much thought, I remembered the reason why I was writing. I began to post my works not for the possibilty of gaining numbers of readers but for myself. I wanted to express every thought and emotions I pu into my works. So if ever you're seeing this, that only means I had the courage to share it with you guys (aka. I gave myself some love haha)

Thirdly, I get busy a lot during school days. I'm afraid I won't be able to update as much as I want to and for that cause, I might also lose momentum and comepletely forget abouut the story line.

Lastly, i still don't know how to use this site well. I'm still learning about writing and posting in this platform and I've been reading a lot of literary pieces in hopes of improving so that I can tell stories without seeming like I'm trying hard to narrate or tell something.

If you've come this far, thank you so much! I really appreciate it. Even though I wrote earlier that the main reason i'm writing is for myself, I still hope you'll look forward to this as much as I am. :)

All the love, L <3