#<- I've drawn her before but I mean like a post dedicated to her

[bumblingbabooshka]

Sek’s Wards: Sveyko and S’veyk

Their biological mother fell in love with a Klingon and ran off to be with him when they were both in their teens and they were very happy. Unfortunately, her family was not as happy and basically disowned her. When her bondmate hit his pon farr she was compelled to go back home, both because of the bond but also because she and her Klingon partner wanted their bond to be recognized by her family. It was incredibly important for some reason. Unfortunately again, the man she loved was killed during the kal-if-fee and she married her bondmate instead, unable to fight for some reason. A few months later the reason for both of these things was revealed to be the twins, belonging to her Klingon lover. The twins’ mother died when they were quite young and their father + the rest of their biological family were very cruel to them. Their father had long since lost his logic and blamed them for the way his life turned out, meanwhile the rest of the family was negligent and refused to speak of or interact meaningfully with the children. Sek came across them while visiting the house to speak to their father about something work related, as they were both teachers. Sek was immediately disturbed by their appearance (their living conditions were obviously poor but the house and its other occupants were fine. They also appeared to be very afraid/aggressive.)  Sek reported his suspicions to the proper authorities and their legal father was tried and placed in a rehabilitation center but it quickly became an anti-custody battle because neither the girls’ Vulcan nor Klingon relatives wanted to house them. Sek stayed with them throughout this process and enlisted the help of his siblings Asil (private eye) and Elieth (politician) to help him understand the legalese and government systems more.  Eventually, Sek took them in as wards so they would have a stable place to recover until they were put in a better home. However, after a few years he petitioned to house them permanently and all parties agreed that that ‘would be best.’

[darkcircles4lyfe]

I've given it some thought--

Now, if you've read any of my posts and you've read 430, you know there are a lot of ways it falls short of what I wanted. On the other hand, I can respect an open ending, one where we are allowed and encouraged to dream. All things considered, I'm not satisfied or disappointed, but a secret third thing... bear with me.

For a lot of storylines, I can fill in the blanks how I want.

I'm heartbroken over Himiko's fate, but there's no denying that the lack of camera footage leaves open the possibility of her simply disappearing. Perhaps she is waiting in hiding for the world to change, just like Lady Nagant.

Dr. Yoshida is described as someone who can cure the incurable. That may be referring to Katsuki, but the doctor himself said it's a complete mystery how he survived, all Katsuki's own doing. Maybe he cured someone else in those 8 years... someone like Touya?

Honestly I got nothing on Tenko but who knows. Who knows! Something something OFA connection. Izuku having vestige visions. Idk.

As for the manner in which society is changing, I'm drawn to Shouji's speech: "I'm dedicating the honor to those who joined the uprising eight years ago. All I've done is stand atop the resolve that they demonstrated to the world, nothing more." That at least tells me his earlier judgment of the other heteromorphs "setting them back" was a narrow point of view Shouji was supposed to grow out of, rather than a way of Horikoshi trying to criticize revolutionaries. In general, just because a character says something doesn't mean we're supposed to take it as gospel. That's lit crit 101, people.

Then there's Izuku. Once again I am feeling this pretty close to home. I keep coming back to the fact that the class is 24/25 now and I'm 25, man. On top of that, anyone else who was 14/15 ten years ago when the manga started gets to feel like we've all grown up together. I wanted catharsis for Izuku's trauma so badly. I wanted words. But I can't deny that the way Izuku is shown attempting to make the best of things and be content with a humbler life resonates with me, as painful as it is, as much as I know deep down he's kidding himself. It doesn't surprise me that he kept his walls up all this time and continued to shun his "selfishness."

I almost feel like there's an all-encompassing narrative theme being expressed here, in the fact that Izuku was trying to push past his pain and focus on the next generation, but surprise, his story's not over yet. I think the implied message there is that more can be done in the here and now, and maybe other stories that seem to be over, aren't.

With these things in mind, I can take the ending in stride, even if this is all the more we get from Horikoshi. However. There's one thing that is jolting me out of my peace every time I start to get comfortable here. It's actually related to the storyline that got the most closure.

I've seen a lot of fellow bkdk enjoyers calling their conclusion the best part of the ending, and I agree with that. They got a truly full circle moment, and a way of communicating to the reader that they're together, they have their forever, in a way that is personal to them. It's not "canon" in the way a kiss or a confession is, but I've said it before--this makes sense for them. And Horikoshi also did something legitimately interesting and groundbreaking by not making Ochako confess, not showing her future being tied to the main character as a love interest.

No, the thing that's bugging me is a seemingly small detail: why does Izuku and Katsuki holding hands at the end, of all things, have to be implied? Lots of things about 430 make sense in the context of the interview Horikoshi recently gave where he expressed being content with what he has drawn, and what he has left to the imagination. But not this. You can't convince me he didn't want to draw this. It's a motherfucking story about hands. This is the one thing I was 110% certain would happen. It's been teased for forever. Katsuki clearly wanted it so bad. So many other characters got to hold Izuku's hand in-frame. What the hell. Why.

Idk. I will be thinking about it for the foreseeable future.

[mariamakeslemons]

Canon CoD Characters as 70s Slasher Characters

Just like with the TF141, I'm going to be putting these characters into the stereotypes that I think they'd be in a 70s slasher. Once again, none of them can be the killer.

I've also done this post with Non-Canon CoD characters as well!

Alex would be a background character. Perhaps he has a few interactions with the final girl, perhaps he's just a background character. Either way, he's not super fleshed out in the slasher, which makes him either fodder or someone who gets away. He'd definitely be one of the characters that fans of the movie would beg to know more about, probably has a great fight before dying, or he helps others escape from the killer. If he's used to pad the body count, he's going down kicking ass.

Farah is either the smart girl stereotype or the legend person. She'd realize pretty damn quickly that she's in a horror movie and then it would depend on her role. As the smart girl, she'd be working with the final girl to make traps for defense against the killer. However, if she's just there to tell the legend of the killer, she's dipping so fast. Listen, if it was a human, she'd be in your corner. But the killer you're facing with her as Ms. Exposition is supernatural. She would, rightfully, not fuck with that. Probably helps Alex evacuate people still and tells the final girl how to kill the killer if such information is available. If she does face the killer, she's going down swinging dammit!

Kate is Ms. Exposition. If the killer has any information on them, she'll get it to the final girl. One of the characters that immediately realizes that she's in a horror movie. Is probably not with the rest of the cast physically, so she's the most likely to survive (outside of one person, but we'll get to them). Not quite team mom, but gets protective of the final girl should she help out. If she does end up facing the killer, you can bet that she's going down fighting.

Alejandro is the lovable jock. He forms the classic pair of nerdy-and-jock-friends with Rudy (who we will get to next). He's smarter than the usual archetype, but he's self deprecating, insisting he's only good for his muscles. However, due to being this archetype, he also suffers from the Worf effect, usually being one of the first killed to show how strong the killer is. He does go down swinging, though, sometimes leaving a wound that the final girl can use to defeat the killer.

Rudy is the cute nerd, as the other half of the nerd-and-jock-friends with Alejandro. He helps the survivors realize they're in a horror movie, usually upon finding Alejandro's corpse. He'll come up with traps and ways to corner the killer, but he's more likely to go straight after the killer for revenge. He's definitely going down with a fight, if he doesn't stay with the final girl. Usually dedicates the kill in honor of their fallen friends.

Valeria is the drug dealer. Because it 's a 70s slasher, with the Hays Code still being a heavy guideline for movies, she's going to die because of moral reasons. There might be implications that she crosses the border as well, because we all know those old slasher movies are just a look at cis, white, conservative men's fear. Because of both of these reasons, despite how badass she is in CoD, she'd be killed without a fight, in a painfully drawn out way. (If it was a newer slasher, she'd probably escape, honestly.)

Graves is the Asshole© of the group. He drinks and smokes, similar to Soap, but he also refuses to take no for an answer unless someone else forces him to accept it. When the kills start piling up, he tries to leave, not in the terror way but like 'fuck y'all, I ain't dying for dick'. This does not save him as he's guaranteed to die now, once again because 70s slashers tend to be morality tales. Abandoning people is a no-go, and Graves dies for his crime of betrayal, usually by surprise, meaning no fighting back.

Makarov is the "human" antagonist. He's not the killer, but he may have helped make the killer into, well, the killer. Or he's the asshole who wants to get something from the group. Because of this, however, he'll usually disappear in the 2nd half of the movie. Is he dead, did he escape scot-free? Who knows, not the audience. He can be interchangeable with Graves' character, as to not make too many unlikable characters on screen. Once again, the morality of 70s slashers makes him die, if he dies, anticlimactically.

Nikolai is the driver of the vehicle that drops off the final girl. You remember me mentioning someone surviving with Kate? Yeah, this is him. He drops off his passenger and fucks right off. He might not even know that a killer is loose, but he's not staying. He's got other shit to do. If he does get caught by the killer, he's fighting, with a high chance at taking the killer down with him.

[ladamedusoif]

Hi! I've just read 20/20 and it's so good👓

May I just say that I admire the way you write not only in general, but also that you write Pedro characters fanfiction without massive age gap? I like those too, but god, there are tons of it and it became sooo hard to find Joel (bc 80% of age gap fics is about Joel) being happy with a woman of his age.

I happen to think more and more lately that older women seem more real, thus more interesting to read - young girls are all pretty with their sexy young bodies, etc., and the older you get, the more insecurities you have, and you believe somebody like Joel or Ben has plenty of options when in fact they probably want somebody to feel comfortable with, somebody who they can laugh with *looks at Lydia*

I guess, sometimes young reader is too perfect. How could real person like me ever compete with that? Imperfect characters are comforting and real (they suffer to make us feel better, they're our heros) and they evoke real feelings, you care about them. That's why I love to read non-age gap work when I see one.

Anyway, sorry for rambling, thank you!!🤍

*throws hearts at you and running away*

First, thank you so much for the lovely words about my writing! Here are some hearts in return: 💜💜💜

Honestly, this kind of ask means the world. I’m so grateful and so honoured.

A warning: this will be a long answer. Sorry!

I genuinely felt emotional when I read your words about my decision to write in a way that is either no/minimal age gap or where the reader’s age isn’t specified (because this is possible, and is arguably far more inclusive for reader insert). I particularly like that you’ve chosen to focus on why older OFCs/reader characters are more interesting, rather than on the extreme age gap trope.

I can’t deny that the age gap trope is the dominant one in this fandom’s fic at the moment - most obviously for Joel, but also for other characters. And I sometimes wonder if Visiting would have more notes and engagement if Lydia was a student, not Ben’s contemporary and perfect equal - intellectually, emotionally, in every way.

But as you say: Lydia has a life, has lived, and is imperfect physically and emotionally, like us all. She’s interesting for all those reasons, and more. That’s why Ben is drawn to her, and she to him. (I sometimes wonder how people would feel if the age gap trope was reversed, with a much older OFC paired with a younger P boy…)

This is also why characters like @fuckyeahdindjarin’s Cee and Sugar, in Seams and Palomino respectively, or @lunapascal’s Andie in Curls, or @julesonrecord’s Eva in Shots, or @iamskyereads Beatrice in Compulsion, or the many other no age gap/no age specified characters and reader inserts in the fanfic are so gorgeously engaging. You get it - they’re real.

They’re not all thin, pert, visions of youth as beauty and beauty as youth. Ageing is a privilege, and it hurts me, really and truly, to see the implication that only youth is attractive in so much of the fanfic in a fandom dedicated to a man who has aged so beautifully.

I know people who have been subjected to anonymous abuse over this issue, which insists they’re just angry old women because “hot celebs won’t fuck you”.

I’m passionate about this for all sorts of reasons. I am more than a little unsettled by the vision of Joel, in particular, as exclusively attracted to much, much younger girls. I sometimes feel that some of the explanations for why age gap is good or better are somewhat problematic (that’s just my opinion, before anyone yells at me, but it’s rooted in experience and the fact that I work with many college-aged people and know the consequences of the age gap fantasy when it hits reality). And there are broader implications for the message being sent to younger readers about ageing, attraction, and female sexuality, which my feminist brain is furious about.

Finally, I am struck by the fact that we often see posts about how the fic world is a broad tent, and that there’s room for everything. Yet when people ask for more fic that doesn’t repeat the age gap trope, or some of us write fics that explicitly avoid that, there’s a reaction against that.

Sigh. You see why you didn’t need to apologise for rambling, for I am a rambling Rose, and endlessly grateful for your kind words and wonderful support. Here’s to a more diverse menu of fic on the dash - the tide does seem to be turning. You may have seen the post that’s been doing the rounds where @tessa-quayle has very helpfully compiled a list of fic that doesn’t involve an age gap or DBF/daddy thing - it’s really good on the need for more diverse reading.

PS: a more general query for the dash: is this such a massive trope in other 40-something male actor fandoms??

[e-wills-afterhours]

Pretentious Coffee, Chapter 1

A/N: Yes, my friends. Behold! The return off my wildly popular Hiccstrid coffee shop/college modern AU. I am working on chapter 7 of Vetrnaetr as we speak. Since writing that take quite a bit of time and effort, I thought I would edit and post this oldie (but still a goody?) in the meantime. The fic also takes place around the Christmas season, so, well...why the hell not, amirite???

I also once saw someone say the characters' names should reflect modern names in a modern au. But...I don't care. You know who I'm writing about, and changing the names is cumbersome, so I've dropped the pretense. *jazz hands*

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Hiccstrid

---

Astrid’s head ached from the aftereffects of the previous night’s party. Between the deafening music, the pervasive smell of marijuana, beer, and vomit, and the morning’s brutal hangover, she vowed never to accompany her roommate to another “small get together” again. Ruffnut couldn’t be trusted. Astrid was unsure the other woman understood the concept of responsible, well-mannered entertainment. Like her twin brother, Ruffnut lived for the extreme, and Astrid had been their collateral damage more than once.

Hence her current state.

It was almost noon and she was standing in line for overpriced coffee in a tiny corner shop she never visited. It was cramped, but quiet; unlike the student café on campus.

Astrid was not one for caffeine, but she needed a pick-me-up to salvage the remainder of her weekend for studying. Unfortunately, her midterm exams would not pass themselves.

“Next,” the barista droned.

Astrid glanced up, scanning overhead chalkboard menu framed by poorly drawn snowflakes—to complement the abysmal weather outside, she supposed. Her eyes darted around, but settled on nothing in particular.

There were ten different kind of specialty coffees, an assortment of seasonal hot drinks, traditional coffee brews, and another half of the menu dedicated to blended concoctions.

Inexperienced in the ways of coffees and lattes, Astrid found it all a bit overwhelming.

“You know, this would be a whole lot easier on the both of us if you had—I don’t know…bothered to glance at the menu when you were waiting in line, nothing to do.”

Astrid blinked, staring at the barista who was leaning on the counter, propped up by his elbows. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she was taken aback, torn between gaping at his rudeness and scowling back. She imagined her face did some odd sort of spasm between the two while she fumbled a response. 

“I’ve never been in here before!” she blurted in her defense.

“Neither has that guy, but he ordered in two seconds,” the barista sighed, nodding toward the gentleman waiting for his drink in the pick-up area. “Blissfully uncomplicated.”

Astrid folded her arms, feeling herself bristle under the layers of winter clothing. “I don’t drink coffee.”

He laughed, straightening up. His name badge caught the light and her gaze flickered down to read HICCUP.

“Yet…you’re in a coffee shop?” he asked, his otherwise bored tone punctuated with burgeoning amusement.

Astrid rolled her eyes, dropping her arms to the side. “I didn’t mean I never—“ She stopped abruptly, feeling her temper rise at the gap-tooth smirk across the counter. She tore off her gloves and stuffed them in her purse for something else to focus on. “Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything, huh?” she sassed back.

“And this is the place you chose. Lucky me.”

She glared at him, leaning in. “Working real hard for that tip, aren’t you?”

He genuinely grinned. “The whole twenty-five cents you weren’t going to pay me to begin with? I’m devastated.”

Astrid’s headache was getting worse she knew who to blame. She huffed, rubbing her forehead. Her eyes were scrunched closed, half with pain, and half with exasperation. If she wasn’t already miserable from excessive drinking, “Hiccup” would have made her so.

“Look,” she hissed. “I’ll take the…gingerbread latte, small. Can you put an extra shot of espresso in that?”  She shook her head as he opened his mouth to answer, disinterested in whatever snarky remark he had to share. “Oh, never mind. Just do it—and if it’s one of those girly coffees with whipped cream, you can just leave that off.”

Hiccup uncapped a sharpie and started scribbling on the side of an empty cup. “Extra-pretentious coffee with a generous dusting of privilege…”

“What?” she barked, wringing the strap of her purse like it was his neck.

If only.

Hiccup’s expression was neutral.

“A small gingerbread latte with an extra shot, hold the whipped cream. Why? What did you hear?” He passed the empty cup to the other barista working the espresso machine. “That’ll be three-fifty.”

Astrid rummaged around for her wallet, pulling out a crinkled five dollar bill and shoving it into his hand rather forcefully. He made change, and there was something about his even visage that was as infuriating as his snarky quips. Without a single word, Astrid still felt like he was making a mockery of things—his job; the coffee he served; her.

She tucked the change away, fingers cramming it down bitterly, all save for one quarter to hold over the tip jar. When Hiccup’s eyebrows arched in surprise, she withdrew it in spite. He just laughed, much to her increasing annoyance.

Apparently, along with his lack of professionalism, he did not have the capacity to take things seriously—but it wasn’t Astrid’s problem that he didn’t want to be tipped. For some reason, it bothered her all the same.

Hiccup splayed a hand over his chest, ruefully eyeing the quarter. “You’re breaking my heart.”

She scoffed and marched toward the back of the shop near the coffee pick-up. There was a small table by the window where she could watch the cathartic dance of the snowfall outside. It was something to gaze at with unfocused eyes as she ran through her flash cards for political science.

Of her upcoming exams, she feared that one the least, deciding it was the best content to review until her brain began firing on all cylinders again.

She shrugged off her jacket and her scarf, draping them over the back of the chair. She had been feeling heated, thinking it was her interaction with a certain intolerable barista, but as she sat down, she noticed just how warm the shop really was. With less layers, it was actually pleasant, and she pulled out ring of flash cards from her purse.

Not more than four cards in, her latte was delivered by a tall, gangling figure—fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it—and her mood soured, until she saw the water bottle set down alongside her drink.

“For the hangover,” Hiccup explained, no attitude to spare. “Works better than espresso, anyway.”

Astrid stared up at him, puzzled.

It was in the daylight filtering through the window that she finally saw him properly, and that face, so unassuming and unimpressed by everything around him, rang a bell. Something about those eyes and that irritating carelessness lit a match in her memory—but it was only a tiny flame, incapable of illuminating the bigger picture. She did not know when or where, but she was sure she had seen him before. It was dim inside that little coffee shop, but closer to the window, Hiccup had eyes that were not easily forgotten.

He quirked his brow again and only then did she realize she had been staring.

“What makes you think I have a hangover?” she asked, wishing she had not noticed the familiarity in his tone.

Too suddenly, she was noticing other things—his jawline and stubble, and the flattering fit of his black work slacks. Objectively, he was easy on the eyes, and it was a great cosmic injustice that he did not have the corresponding personality.

“Maybe it’s the fact you’re in here studying in the middle of a Saturday, trudging through crappy weather, spending too much on coffee you never drink, and squinting excessively?” he replied. “Or maybe it’s just a barista’s intuition?”

Astrid snorted, but reached for the water. Her throat was becoming drier the longer he stood there.

“Your intuition is shit because I’m not squinting. I’m glaring, and you’re the reason.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck, smirking. “Okay, Ms. Not-hungover. Consider it a midterm special—coffee and water.”

“And what do I owe you for this ‘midterm special?’”

With a straight face, he answered, “A quarter would suffice.”

Astrid sneered, reaching for her purse. “You’re such an idiot.”

She produced the quarter, holding out to him with a flat stare.

“Maybe I am, but I’m not the one hungover the weekend before midterms—ah! Excuse me. Not-hungover,” he said, walking away with his hands up.

“Jackass,” she muttered, raising her latte to her lips. She yelped and nearly dropped the cup, fanning herself furiously as the drink scalded her.

“Beginner’s tip: Coffee is usually hot,” Hiccup called from behind the counter.

Astrid continued to glare at him, even after he had looked away. She still held him in her sights, even after her expression softened a bit.

[visarcana]

In celebration of the miserable realization that I haven't updated in more than a year

I was thinking of how this happened and if I REALLY have done so little on the fic. A lot is going on but that shouldn't be my excuse; I had difficult years before. So what was I doing for the past year?

I published the Folken oneshot here and here (phew, there's at least something).

I do have SOME version of ch 17 ready that I have continually worked on, it's just that it doesn't feel up to my standards. What is worse, I cannot figure out what comes after. I have the CONCEPT and major scenes but the plotholes could sink the whole thing if I'm not careful. I hoped to have this figured out before publishing the next chapter, I usually had, in similar situations before. I wonder if I should just risk it and just go ahead.

I have some scenes that do not exactly fit into the fic at this point BUT I WANT to have them. What do? Force them in there somehow (I did that in the past already)? Create a separate "fic" for them? I feel like such an inexperienced writer when things like this and the previous one slow me down while others can produce chapter after chapter much more regularly.

I did A LOT of translation last year, and it was the hard kind, the novel translation. You kinda have to employ your skills there as a writer, too, besides dedicating buttload of time and patience. Maybe I tired myself out and hit the limits of my creative energy? It certainly feels like it at times. This is something that took me by surprise, in the past, the translation fueled rather than impeded my writing.

I did have some very engaging fic talks with a few of the readers and friends, I'm really thankful for that. They were obviously about the stuff I had already posted but I guess it doesn't hurt to think on the past things again, quite often, an inspiration hits from that. Not to mention motivation, it's incredibly motivational to have someone care about your story, I don't think I even need to say that. I even was lucky to lay my eyes on some fanart for the fic and although I can't say I contributed there such a treat ALWAYS deserves gratitude and mention <3

The questions also helped me understand where my writing is unclear or where it may get confusing. Besides the answers, I had to even look up some photo references and even did some pencil sketches. Although they are not great, it's the only thing that I've drawn in long months.

So, in case someone else wondered about the same things, and since I have some of these answers typed out already (with some of them quite elaborate as usual), I will post the "questions" below.

If there is any interest in any of the answers, I will publish them here. I wouldn't want to spam you otherwise, I mean, I get that it's the new chapter people would want to read, if anything. I can't make any other promises but I'll keep working on that as well. Anyway, an update of this blog was long overdue, so I did at least that.

-- CHAPTER 16

What are “sliders”, “lum”, “Telandir” etc.? Basically, worldbuilding Q/A.

What does Van mean exactly when he says “There are four of you, and you will come down with me peacefully. Or there will be less… if you think you can outrun me.”

Is it “Cyro” or “Cyrien”? How old is he? How does he feel when Hitomi intercepts on him on the way to the command tent and what does his apologetic shrug at the end mean?

What is Hitomi wearing and why does no one pay much attention to her until she speaks up at the war council? Why do the soldiers call her “Private Sweetling”?

How does Van feel about the whole situation with the captives? Are Hitomi’s concerns substantial?

What really happened and what are the physical actions (and reactions) of the characters during the argument taking place in Van’s tent?

What is the meaning of Van and Folken’s conversation about Hitomi, when Folken says his brother “disappoints” him?

What is the meaning of Folken’s “what if I told you I’m done being useful”? What does Van’s reaction to that mean?

Why does Allen see younger himself in Van and what are his regrets?

What does Hitomi mean when she says “everything is shattered”? -- PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

Why does Hitomi so easily accept that Gaea was real after all, when she had been thinking it was a dream for several years?

Why is Hitomi so formal with Millerna at the start? Why is she starting from zero with some of the relationships like Millerna and Van?

Why do people call Hitomi “seeress” in VA?

Are Hitomi’s abilities gone? Why can Van dowse and can anyone do it?

Why does Dornkirk want to separate Van and Hitomi? What is the connection between Lenz’s tasks and the ch15 forest scenes?

Why was there not a scene revealing the reactions of the characters back on Earth to Hitomi’s disappearance?

[stardusthuntress]

A Gala-ctic Evening (Part 2)

ARC Echo x AFAB!reader 

(Part 1)

Word Count: ~6k (hehehehehe! Here there be pure smut, friends!) 

Summary: Echo and the classic ‘night at the gala’ trope, continued. What a fun way to start a relationship with a sweet, flirty trooper like Echo. Corporal, ‘fix it all and flirt the whole way’ is your date for tonight, and he’s more than ready to take it all the way!  

TW: Again, 100% pure smut! PiV (wrap it before you tap it irl kids), pull out method (not advised irl), orals (f receiving), reader is a bit self-conscious of her own body (Echo does his best to reassure her), Echo being flirty and confident because he knows the reality of yolo

A/N: who needs plot when you’ve got a man like Echo! No minors allowed! 18+ only! Purely self-indulgent. Echo can have the exact same kinds of love that the other boys can! And with a man as confident and dedicated as Echo, why would you want anyone else! This is also the first time I've written and posted actual smut... I hope you like it!

Echo dividers by @/djarrex, hyperspace banners are my own 

Now at the hotel for the night, the pair continue to let their hearts dance closer and closer.  

“I never did get a chance to ask you to dance, my Starlight.” Echo offers, tugging her heels from her hand, dropping them in a chair, and returning his hands to her waist. 

“I’m no good at dancing,” she mutters, slightly nervous and put out. 

“Nonsense, it’s just a chance to hold you close, skill doesn’t matter to me. Here,” he scoops up her hand and twirls her on the spot. 

“See? Easy, I’ll lead, just hold on to me. Besides,” he leans closer, to whisper mischeviously in her ear, “there’s no one here to watch, and I don’t have any skill at it either. I just want an excuse to hold you close and see your radiant joy again.” 

She giggles and hides in his shoulder. 

His arms settle loosely around her waist, and he ever so gently coaxes her to sway and move around the room in small circles. 

She relaxes a bit, nuzzling into his shoulder instead of hiding in it. 

Echo steals a moment to place a soft kiss on her hair as they sway and swirl around the room. 

She raises her head, a dreamy look in her eyes as they dart between meeting his and stealing glances at his lips. 

Their steps slow as their focus shifts, neither is sure when exactly their feet stop moving and they stand still, only that it means their lips meet in a dance of their own. 

After a moment, they break apart to stare deep into each other’s eyes. 

“My Starlight,” Echo whispers. Her attention is drawn to his lips, and the nervousness reappears. 

“Oops, maybe I should take the makeup off before it makes a mess of us both.” 

Echo smirks, “if that’s what you want.” He’s eager to see her face without all the getup again. Just her, the way he’s most familiar with her everyday in her armor. The way he’s dreamed of her late at night when everyone is asleep. 

She tugs him into the bathroom to clean the lipstick that transferred onto him, then reluctantly ushers him out so they can both change into something a little more comfortable. 

She takes off the makeup, and lets her hair loose, then needs help with the dress. 

And he’s sitting on the bed with his bow tie undone and shirt unbuttoned and untucked. Belt draped over a nearby chair atop his jacket. 

As she reappears in the fresher doorway, he can tell she’s a little self conscious after taking the makeup off. 

But Echo looks up with a relieved smile and instantly compliments how nice it is to see the real her without the makeup. 

“It was nice to be considered pretty for once”, she says. 

But Echo prefers her without makeup, and made it his business to tell her as much. “You don’t need it, I finds her natural beauty even more stunning without it.” His tone and eyes reflecting his genuine nature. 

Though, for now he keeps to himself how the dark color of her lipstick had made him aware of the finer details of how her lips moved that he hadn’t noticed before. But he was even more entranced watching those movements without the lipstick now. Knowing that he, and he alone could see those subtleties in the way she moved and the expressions she made. 

She doesn’t know how to respond, so instead she turns her attention back to getting the dress off. Besides, he’s made her a little hot and bothered now, perhaps he’s earned a chance to see her with a little less on? 

Then she turns, shifts her hair so she can still see him, and directs him to the fasteners on the dress. 

His scomp sits on her waist, anchoring them to each other. 

That’s when he notices she’s still wearing the belt. 

He tenderly traces the belt around her waist, peering over her shoulder, careful not to look down her top, just to find the clip with his handprint on it. One finger slips beneath the belt so he can grip the clip with one hand, and he unfastens it. 

As the belt slips away from her hips, he lifts the clip higher so he can look at it. He rests his chin on her shoulder, and rubs his thumb over the handprint shape. He’s dying to know how she found out about his symbol from his old unit. Or if it’s merely a coincidence? It can’t be, it’s too well coordinated with his old color. But that’s a question for later. Right now, he just wants her. 

Instead he simply raises an eyebrow and shifts his eyes to her, to ask if she knew what the symbol meant to him. Her cheek brushes against his and she shyly looks away, smiling at the floor. So she did know. Well, it worked like a charm. His heart was already hers, but everything that happened tonight simply solidified that. 

So he presses a kiss into her cheek, and squeezes her tight before reluctantly leaning back to look for the fastener of the dress. 

He finds the fastener on the back of one hip, and places his hand over it. He leans forward again, his lips near her ear to ask a quiet, “May I?” While pressing another kiss into her cheek. 

Her cheeks warm, and she smiles, nodding. 

This time he simply rotates one shoulder back to examine the clasp, keeping as much of their bodies in contact as he can. What do ya know, the clasp is easy to undo with one hand, and the dress begins to unravel, exposing her back to him. 

He can’t help but brush his knuckles against the soft skin of her back on it’s way back up to her shoulder, but his hand never quite reaches her shoulder… 

“Don’t stop” she whispers, eyes drifting closed. 

She can feel his breath on her neck as he takes a moment to prepare himself, then allows the tips of his fingers to ghost over her skin. He adds one finger at a time, each one feather light and smooth. His fingers find the edges of the exposed skin, but respectfully avoid dancing beyond the limit of what he can see. 

Her brow furrows, but her eyes remain closed. She hums, searching for a way to tell him what she is hoping for. “Like you did in the gardens,” she manages as the back of his fingers continue to glide across her skin. 

“Like this?” He checks, allowing his ring finger and pinky to slip beneath the fabric hanging loosely from her shoulders. 

“Yes!” she breathes. He’s happy to see her brow is no longer creased. 

“If that’s what you wish, My Starlight, then you shall have it.” The press of his hand becomes a little more firm, as his palm flattens against her and explores around her back. Slipping to her shoulders, he massages a bit, then finds his fingers already under the straps there. Using his thumb, he hesitantly pushes the strap off of his fingers a bit. 

“What if we—?“ he begins, starting to push the strap off of her shoulder just a bit. 

She can only nod and relax her shoulder, allowing him to slip it off a little easier. 

Echo is sure he’s fallen asleep and is in the middle of the best kind of dream. She’s letting him remove her clothes! 

He ever so gently slips his scomp link around her beneath the now loose material and runs the cold metal up her side to her shoulder. She gasps in pleasure and shivers again! Echo is in heaven. 

“Would you allow me to remove this one too?” He queries, scomp holding steady near her shoulder, but ready to retract it should she say no. “I won’t take it personally if you say no, Sweetheart. I promise,” He whispers. Consent means everything to this man. He knows first hand what it is like to not get a say in something to be done to his own body and would never inflict that upon anyone. 

“Don’t stop now,” her breathy voice does things to him, he discovers. 

Slow enough that she could easily stop him if she changed her mind, he eases the strap off her shoulder and lets the fabric fall to the floor, pooling like stars reflected in a lake at her feet. 

He holds his breath, realizing there’s no binder strap at her back nor shoulders. 

She shifts a bit, arms covering her chest, and he can tell it’s from nerves. So he immediately jumps into action, doing everything he can think of to soothe her mind. 

He leans forward and presses his lips to the back of her neck, and she gasps. It’s music to his ears. 

His scomp arm returns to her waist, wrapping delicately around her front, and pulling her back to his chest. His other arm doing the same, but angled upwards at the elbow, across her chest, wrist happily settling between her breasts, hand sliding into place along her collarbone, just below the spot where her shoulder meets her neck. 

Meanwhile, his lips leave more and more open-mouthed kisses down her neck and trailing across her shoulders. 

She tilts her head to one side, exposing her neck to him, and he rewards her communicative nature with more passionate kisses, pressing her firmly into his chest, hand beginning to wander towards her breasts. 

Finally he breaks away from kissing and sucking on her neck to look down at her body, exposed for his eyes only! 

“Oh, Mesh’la!” He croons in her ear, she can feel him shiver as his eyes light up, hand finding her breast and squeezing a bit. “You are a sight for sore eyes!” 

She clings to his arm at her waist, her other arm snaking behind her to the back of his neck 

“Echo!” She breathes. 

Echo’s restraint finally snaps. Stars, does he want her! Desperately! 

His lips immediately return to her neck, this time finding that spot just beneath her ear. Renewed vigor driving every move as he groans into her, squeezing her to him, and sucking harder as she moans at his ministrations. 

She whimpers, knees getting shaky. 

He feels her trembling in his arms, and stops, but only to scoop her off her feet and carry her bridal style to the bed, sitting her upright in the middle of it. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart.” And he kisses her with everything he has, hand on her cheek, as he begins to crawl over her onto the bed, supporting her weight as he gently lowers her back, maneuvering himself between her legs. 

Her hands cup his face, and she presses the kisses back, matching his passion and then some. Grasping at the untied bow tie again, she uses it as extra leverage to keep his lips in contact with hers as he hovers over her, one knee between hers. 

He can feel the tingle of excitement racing through his body as the kisses become more and more desperate. His tongue exploring her mouth like nothing else exists. And his thigh, his real, flesh and blood thigh pressing into her core. He can feel her warmth, and her wetness through her panties as she presses back. 

He begins to lower his body weight onto her, but is almost too careful not to let the weight of his metal limbs rest on her. 

She breaks the kiss to smile and giggle a little. Echo can’t help but watch as she radiates joy. 

“Love,” her half-lidded eyes, framed with her laughter find his own, “you can put your whole weight on me. All of you. You know damn well I am not delicate.” 

“You shouldn't have to bear the weight of my alterations, pun intended.” He smirks. 

She giggles. “As much as I love that you’re getting your sense of humor back, Hun, I’m not afraid of your alterations. I love them too. After all, they allowed us to meet. I am grateful, change doesn’t have to be a bad thing. We can decide if we want to make it into a good thing. It isn’t easy, and it takes a lot of hard work, but you won’t be alone for it. I’ll be right here. I rather like laying under you, Love.” 

Echo chuckles nervously, tucking his head into her shoulder. Doing his best to make sure his headgear doesn’t end up in her face when he does so. The last thing he wants is to let any of his metal parts become the reason she gets a black eye. 

He’s still partially hovering over her. His weight on his elbows on either side of her. Hips against hers, his thigh still pressed to her core. But his eyes are drawn down towards their hips when he feels her shifting beneath him. Ready to lift the awkward weight of his prosthesis off of her as soon as he can figure out which one is bothering her. But what he sees is not what he expected to see. 

Slowly, sensually, her foot arches as she uses it to stroke up his thigh, over the seam between metal and man, over his ass, and around to rest her calf on the small of his back, using her calf to press his ass down. Encouraging him to put his full weight on her. 

Echo groans, still next to her ear, allowing his eyes to fall shut, too aroused to do anything else. And the vision he’s met with is one he hopes he never forgets. The arch of her foot, pressed into the muscle of his leg. Her ankles at the same angle he’d noticed when he first saw her in heels when the night was only just beginning. 

He’s drawn from his reverie, eyes popping open, when he feels her other foot beginning the same journey up his other leg. 

Echo can only watch, wide eyed, and feel. Man oh man can he feel it! As she latches her ankles behind his hips, and tugs his full weight onto her, he starts to melt for her. He allows his legs to flatten so he can feel every inch of her, by her own volition, pressed tightly against every inch of skin he had left. 

Her hands sneak up his back, under his unbuttoned shirt. Slowly, giving him a chance to say no if he wanted. But he has no reason to protest any of it. With one hand at his lower back, and one hand between his shoulder blades, she urges the rest of him down onto her body. 

He lets his elbows slide out, until he can no longer feel the cool air between them, only the warmth of her. Only the softness of her skin as he nuzzles into her neck. He shifts his real arm so he can pet her hair, but finds himself momentarily stalled when he realizes he can feel her nipples against his chest. He wants to look down, to see her finally exposed to him. But first he needs to see the look in her eyes, make sure she’s still happy with this choice now that his full weight is on her. 

So his eyes flick up, to find her eyes so much more full of love than he ever expected anyone could ever feel towards him. 

His hand finally makes it to her hair, stroking it. And then moving to brush the back of his knuckles against her cheek. 

A flash of mischief crosses her eyes briefly, and she manages to catch his knuckles with a kiss. 

Echo’s own smile brightens. And he finds his eyes already tracing her lips, before he gives in and presses her into the bed with a kiss. Pushing harder into her with every second that passes. 

She licks at his lips this time, opening his mouth, and searching for his tongue. 

Echo obliges with a moan, his tongue surging forward to meet hers. 

Teeth clash as both tongues search deeper, wanting to know every inch of each other. 

With a final suck on her tongue, Echo pulls back to gaze into her eyes. His need to confirm that he’s still got it. The hunger in her eyes, all he needs to keep going.  

Then his kisses trail down her neck 

All the way to her breasts 

The way she tends to subtly cover her chest tells him she’s not very confident about her breasts, so he decides to spend a little extra time pouring his love into them. 

She begins to mewl beneath him, her arms and legs clinging tightly to him. He’s impressed by the strong grip of her legs, giving away how much she loves him. 

So he sucks harder, and licks slower, and plays longer. 

Her hand moves to the back of his neck, holding him to her breast, telling him without words how much she enjoys the way he’s loving on her. 

He begins to squeeze and knead her other breast, and lets a few fingers just barely brush over her nipple. 

Her legs get impossibly tighter around him. 

He pulls back, all but gasping for air, and cursing the fact that he needs air at all. His face turns to the breast that only received the attention of his hand, and she can feel his breath against her skin as he suddenly lowers back down to even out his love-making, now pouring his devotion into this side. 

His hand slides down her hip, until he finds the waistband of her underwear, and begins to play with the hemline that rests on her hip while he continues to lavish her breasts. 

She rests her hand over his to encourage him to keep it there. 

He can feel the growing wetness in her underwear as it rubs on his abdomen. 

Echo chuckles, the vibrations from his laugh doing a number on her breast. They’re both groaning now. 

His hand traces the hemline of her panties around the curve of her leg and towards the spot that’s aching for him. 

She huffs in protest when the soft touch on her hip slips away for a second. That is, until she bucks her hips upwards again, and finds his palm waiting to cup her core through her panties. 

His fingers rest near the waistband, his palm sits where she wants it most. 

One of her hands still cups the back of Echo’s head, the other now holds his hand against her sex, so she can buck against it repeatedly. 

Echo begins to break away from her breasts so he can look down and begin to allow his fingers to dance along the skin on either side of the panties. 

He still can’t believe this is real. She’s nearly naked in front of him, using his own hand to massage parts of her so private he thought he’d only see them in his dreams. 

He’s breathing heavy, moaning with each thrust of her pelvic bone against his hand. His tallest finger begins to ever so slightly tug the waistband of her panties down. He almost doesn't even notice his thumb beginning to slide under the fabric too. 

“Yes, Echo!” She breaths, head thrown back. 

“May I… remove them?” He asks, hesitantly, as though any words will shatter the moment. 

“Please!” She’s doing her best to refocus her eyes on his face, but he’s rather proud she’s already so infatuated with what he’s doing. She’s breathing heavily as she gasps out, “just rip them off, Love, I have no intention to unwrap my legs, if you’re alright with that.” 

He looks up at her, pressing his palm against her core, meeting her thrust for thrust. “Are, uhh… are you sure?” He whispers, “This lace is really pretty on you. I’d hate to ruin something I’d love to see on you again.” 

She laughs. “I’ll get more, I promise. Maybe even a complete set next time,” she winks, “but I need to feel you inside me!” She takes a breath before continuing, “use your scomp to rip through them, please!” No longer caring how desperate she sounded. 

“Yes, Ma’am!” He breathes. How can he deny her when she begs so pretty! And, she’d so willingly accepted his metal parts without even thinking about it. Echo felt himself falling harder for her with every passing second together. 

She props herself up on her elbows to watch, as Echo finally wraps his fingers under the gentle lace, to lift it from her skin. He takes a second to admire the soft patterns before bringing his scomp to the lace and brrrrrrrrrrrrr-ing right through the fabric just above each leg. 

He looks up at her, still in disbelief that he just ripped the panties off his partner on their first night together. Only to find her biting her lip as she watches him. 

She leans forward, cupping his cheek in her hand and kissing him so deeply, he forgets he’s still holding the shreds of her underwear. Right up until he feels them getting tugged from his hand. 

He looks down to see her stuff it into the back pocket of his pants. His wide-eyes return to hers, a hopeful question in them. 

“Keep them, Love. And maybe you can help me pick out the next pair,” she says with a kiss to his cheek. 

He feels a shiver race down his spine as he surges forward to press another passionate kiss to her lips. But when her wetness touches his abdomen, with no barrier this time, he breaks the kiss in a gasp. 

“Oooooh, that feels good!” He moans, reaching between them to once again cup her core with his palm, but this time without the hindrance of that last layer of fabric. 

“Echo! It does, I agree, but I need you inside me!!” 

Infatuated with her, and how much he loves her, he swallows hard, then licks his lips, focusing all his attention on her lower lips and starts to finger her, tracing her lower lips torturously slowly, dragging it out. 

One finger slides down either side of the labia, opening the labia and running a finger up the inside, one on each side and then together back down the middle, pressing into her ever so slightly. Dipping inside a teasing amount, and letting his fingers explore her inner folds. Teasing her entrance, Before a finger slips slowly inside. 

Her back arches for a moment as she groans with wild abandon, and he catches a nipple in his mouth. 

Slowly, sensually, he pulls his fingers out, and ever more slowly pushes them back in, once, twice. 

And then he feels it. That spongy spot, deep within her. He adds pressure to that spot, wiggling his fingers in tiny swirling movements as he does so. 

Her back arches almost immediately, tugging her nipple from his mouth with a pop, and her noises become even more desperate and needy. 

“There it is,” he whispers, watching her face as he pulls out and inserts a second finger with the first this time, before continuing to massage her g spot. 

The room explodes into white ribbons of hyperspace behind her eyelids as she clings to Echo as tightly as her fingers will allow. 

Echo’s hand is coated in her wetness, and he can feel her walls tugging him deeper in before losing their rhythm and fluttering around his fingers. 

When she cries out, he starts to slow his pace, massaging her through it, and coaxing her back to the here and now. 

When she opens her eyes, she finds his forehead against her own, eyes watching for hers with rapt attention. 

“That’s it, I’m here, my Starlight. Dank ferrik that was hot!” 

When she blushes and giggles he knows she’s returned from hyperspace and slowly extracts his fingers. 

She gasps at the empty feeling, but watches with rapt attention as he brings his fingers directly to his mouth. His eyes practically rolling back and closing as he indulges in the taste of her, sucking every last drop from his own digits.  

She begs him to put something back inside her. Fingers, tongue, cock, even his scomp (though she doubts he’s ready for that); any of them, as long as he’s iniside her. 

“I don’t think my manhood works anymore, Love.” Echo finally voices his concern, rather ashamed he didn’t say it before they started. What if she rejects him now? He’s not sure he can take that. 

Instead she giggles. “Maybe only a partner has the right tools for the job now,” she whispers against his headgear. “And you’re still wearing too much.” She’s already begun to peel the shirt from his shoulders. Once it’s on its way to the floor, she moves to unbutton and unzip his pants. 

It’s all Echo can do to steady his breathing and watch, wide-eyed, as she pulls the clothes from his body faster than he expected. 

Once they’re both nude, she flips him onto his back, and grinds down on him. 

He grips her hips as tightly as he dares, not hesitating to groan loudly with every swirl of her hips. 

Happily watching from below as she massages his length with her wetness. Surprised as he begins to feel himself growing and getting hard beneath her. 

Maybe she was right! 

She smiles as she begins to feel it too. 

Echo revels in the feeling of finally having her most intimate parts in contact with his own, still amazed that this is real. As her hips swivel over his own he lets his gaze wander lovingly over her body. 

He finds his attention drawn to her breasts again. His boldness growing, he asks if he can suck on her nipple. 

She complies without hesitation, leaning down to deposit one into his open mouth. Relishing the feeling of him licking and sucking every inch of it. 

“Echo!” She whispers. 

He detaches, wide eyes finding hers immediately, mind very hazy from everything she’s doing to him. 

“I need you,” she gasps, hips still swivelling on his. “I need you.” 

Echo’s restraint snaps with a thrust of his hips, and he flips her onto her back with gusto. She squeaks in surprise, but her eyes tell him she’s excited. He looks down, and finds himself surprised at how much of himself she’s managed to coax out of hiding. 

He looks back up at her with excitement as he lines himself up, searching her expression for any hesitation. 

Instead she smirks at him and bites her lip, and he feels her leg around his hips, adding just enough pressure to start slipping inside. 

Their breaths pick up, but their gaze holds steady, caught in the trance of each other as he slowly slides into place. 

He’s certain that her determination to hold his gaze and the way she gasps while staring deep into his eyes is the hottest thing he’s ever seen! 

Once in, they both hold still for a moment. Eyes and mouths conveying a thousand feelings their words cannot express while they gasp for breath and sneak kisses and nibbles. 

He shivers, and she clenches around him, making him moan and involuntarily thrust. 

“I’m not gonna last long, my Starlight,” he gasps out, “can I move?” 

“Not yet… need a minute… been awhile,” she mumbles between breaths, clutching him tighter. 

After a few deep breaths, her chest heaves a little less, and he raises his eyebrows, touching his forehead to hers. A silent question. 

A mischievous spark lights her eyes, and she locks her ankles together behind him, biting her lip, and shaking her head, no. “Let’s enjoy this for a bit,” she teases. 

They lay there, eyes also locked together, beginning to pant again. This time with the effort of not moving. 

There was only one thing she knew for certain, only one thought reverberating around the inside of her head: he felt so good inside her! 

When she clenched again, Echo’s eyes squeezed shut, and his head moved to the crook of her neck as he groaned in her ear. 

“Dank ferrik, Love,” he was shaking with the effort of holding still now, “not sure… I can… take much more…” 

As a means of agreement, she began to move her hips in small circles. 

With a loud moan of ecstasy, Echos arms tightened around her, securing her to him with all his strength, “C-Can I? Please?” He didn’t even try to hide the desperation in his voice. 

“YES!” 

And with that he began thrusting to meet her hips with a feral energy. 

His open mouth finding hers, tongues almost instantly seeking companionship to cling to and massage. 

Within moments both were struggling to keep their rhythm. 

Echo’s lips break from hers with a gasp. 

“Where?” She could hear him holding back, but barely. 

“Outside of me,” was all she could manage. 

Barely two thrusts later, and Echo hastily pulled out, careful to only paint her abdomen from the outside. 

She gasped when he removed himself, instantly missing the feeling of him. 

Even at the pinnacle of his climax, he knew she hadn’t finished yet. So he replaced his cock with two fingers. 

Barely in control of his own limbs, his fingers thrust in rather quickly. 

But the way she arched and let out a high pitched squeak next to the ear wells in his headset was almost enough to make him cum again as his length dances across his own mess on her stomach. His fingers search for the elusive spot inside her, as her moans serenade him with each shift of a finger inside her. 

He curls his fingers inside her, and her moans go up an octave. 

Echo smirks, an idea on the tip of his tongue, and he shifts his weight. 

The world around her is a blur, but she’s aware of Echo’s movement beside her and inside of her, until he suddenly pulls out. 

She sits up with a gasp. She wasn’t done yet. But the scene she’s met with is better than she expected. 

Echo, still smirking and watching her no doubt disheveled expressions with rapture, is arranging her legs on his shoulders, his hot breath dancing over the spot where she needs him the most. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you there. Just lie back, my Starlight.” He whispers, inching closer to her wetness with each word. He holds her gaze for a moment and then dives in, eyes still fixed on her face. He licks a long stripe up the expanse of her slit and watches as she throws her head back in ecstasy with a loud moan. 

He pulls back slightly to give her a moment to breathe, only to blow gently across her wetness. She squirms, hands searching for his in the sheets. 

Ever the perceptive ARC, he spots the way her hands feel for his, and he captures her fingers between his before diving in for more. 

He licks up and down, and lets his tongue dip in and out. Her whimpers serenade his every move and her legs tremble on his shoulders. She’s close now. He can feel it. 

So he exchanges his tongue for two fingers and latches onto her clit, sucking hard. 

White hot stars explode in her mind's eye, as she loses all control of her rhythm, fluttering around his fingers for a second time. Her hips tighten around his hand and shoulders, and her nails rake his back. 

He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, grounding her, and working her through her climax as her body begins to relax, still wrapped tightly around him. He glances down to remove his fingers, enjoying the sight of them both coated in each other’s release. But his eyes quickly return to hers, and he moves back up to cuddle her, keeping close watch until her eyes focus on his again and her breathing returns to a normal level. 

“How was that, my Starlight?” He asks with a giddy laugh. 

Her eyes narrow playfully, she’s still panting just a touch. “Was that your first time since… uh…?” 

“Yeah,” he laughs nervously, tucking his nose into her neck, careful as his headgear nears her face. 

“STARS, Echo! You must have a lot more experience than I do!” She starts to get a bit nervous. 

He scoops her into his arms, holding her close. 

“Not experience, dreams. Dreams of all the things I’d heard my brothers say worked well that I wanted to try, a few ideas of my own, and a handful of things that that outfit you wore tonight made me want to do. Dank Ferrik, I might need you to wear it again sometime, you looked amazing!” 

“Need, huh?” She asks, somewhere between eager and curious. 

He laughs, slightly embarrassed, and then takes a breath and just embraces it, “Yeah, need.” He declares, eyes bright with a fire she’d only dreamed she could ever find. 

She giggles, and he decides that all the noises she’s made tonight just made the top of the list of all his favorite sounds in the galaxy. 

They hold each other close for a few moments, until she shives slightly. 

“Let me clean us up, my Starlight. No, you stay right there. I want to do this for you.” 

She relaxes back into the bed and just watches as he disappears into the fresher and reemerges with a soft, wet towel which he proceeds to use to gently wipe between her legs and then absorb his own mess from her abs. 

They chit chat as he drops the towel off the side of the bed in his rush to feel her skin against his own again, wrapping them both in the sheets. His hand runs slowly up and down her back, coaxing her to sleep on him, more content than he, a trooper designed and raised for combat, has ever known before. 

Echo shifts, becoming aware of the world around him again, and snuggling into the soft warmth in his arms. He opens his eyes to find the gorgeous woman he’s been pining over for the longest time still wrapped in his arms, legs tangled with his, contentment on her sleeping face. 

He watches her for a moment, the soft light in the room making her look like the ethereal Angels from the Moons of Iago. 

She seems to sense his alertness and tries to find her way back to the land of the waking, brow furrowing. 

Hmm, Echo finds himself needing to fix the discontent of her expression, so he covers her in a barrage of kisses. She wakes with a giggle. 

They lay there chatting for a few minutes, enjoying the lack of needing to be anywhere for a while. 

A few more unhurried kisses later, they decide to get up to make the most of the morning before their ride gets there. 

So they start their morning routines, but this time with a lot more sweet touches and long gazes than usual. 

He exits the bathroom to find her wearing his shirt from the night before, with her lack of any undergarments peeking out beneath it, totally unbuttoned in the front, barely hiding anything, and is instantly aroused again. 

Offers her a hand with a smirk, and pulls her to him when she takes it, beaming at her. 

Both his hand and scomp slip underneath the shirt to wrap around her waist, and she smiles radiantly back. So he kisses her, and pins her to the wall, hard but gentle, like there’s no tomorrow. Slipping a leg between hers, he aches to feel her wetness on his own skin again. Her knee sensually slides up his leg to wrap around his waist. Still barely believing last night was real, Echo’s hand moves to her thigh, gripping it tightly. They still have a little while until Crosshair arrives to pick them up, plenty of time… for round two. After all, they are both still in need of a long, hot shower… 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! 

Taglist: (I gathered some of these from the reblogs and comments, I hope that's ok! If you want me to take you off the list just dm me!)  @amorfista (I promised it would be up soon! Hehe!) @the-hexfiles @starrylothcat @daimyosprincess @miss-mouse99

[kart0]

Today was not a good day and my mood is terrible and I have no money and I am barely surviving

I have been planning on opening commissions because I really, really need money. All I have, literally, is $0,053. I am not joking. I have R$0,29 ( my currency ). That's all I have on my bank account. and I refuse to use credit bc I know myself and I don't want to owe money. I'm already owing $40 to my mom, bc I had to prepare for a con, which ended up being very bad and I made no profit whatsoever. I borrowed $100 from her and all money I got, I used to pay her back. And I still haven't paid it all.

And I am. Desperate. I have to buy clothes ( haven't gotten new clothes since 2019 ) and I need new shoes ( I always ask for shoes on my birthday, bc I don't have money to get new ones by myself so I use my birthday as an excuse ) and I plan to save money to buy a new computer. I have a notebook that doesn't work, takes around 3 hours. THREE. FUCKING HOURS. to turn on and work properly. I've been meaning to switch to drawing on a pc because my ipad can only do so much ( and it does a lot, I love it, but it doesn't have a lot of options. I can't get clip paint studio on my ipad cuz it's a subscription and it is expensive. I have clip paint on my notebook tho, but it just doesn't work cuz it's too heavy, and I like working on big canvas )

Last year I was looking for a display drawing tablet ( I bought myself a Wacom intuos in 2017, but I couldn't adapt. I am not very coordinated. At that time i would prefer to draw traditionally, and if digital, on my phone with my FINGER. ) and my dad ended up gifting me one that I really loved ! I had been looking for good and cheap alternatives to wacoms, and I was so dedicated into finding one that I'd be able to afford and he ended up gifting me one !!!! I was over the moon !!!! It was pricey, so I got it as a birthday, and Christmas gift combined. My birthday is in August btw so it was toooootally fine. I don't usually get any Christmas gifts anyways. At least not expensive ones, I usually ask for underwear, or socks, or pajamas. Things I need.

I opened the display tablet and then it dawned on me. My notebook suuuuuuuucks. It will be such a hassle to work and just inconvenient. Why would I spend 3 hours turning it on when my ipad it's already there.

Ugh I am sorry I am getting so out of track, I just. I need to explain why, this matters so much to me.

The actual upsetting thing:

I will open comms, and I have been struggling to price my art because. I don't want to fail, and not get any customers cuz it's too expensive. But I can't work for free, lately I've been spending at least 2 hours on every bust I've drawn. And I know it's not the cleanest or sharpest artstyle out there. I keep doubting myself that no one is interested in my art, in me. I have some followers on Twitter, which is my main source of clients. But I barely get any interactions. If my art can barely get any comments or likes or fucking views, then most likely no one will see my commission post, and no one will buy one.

And to make things worse, I have a mutual who is super nice I really like her I think she's awesome and she has great art but she just announced she's planning to open comms too, soon. And I feel so fucking stupid. Everyone was commenting on that post saying "I can't wait" "ohhhh this will be good" "this is so exciting I will definitely comm you" and I got. Nothing.

It's my own fault. I'm the only one to blame. I don't interact a lot. I'm not a part of the community there. I don't have friends there. Even though I have double her followers, I don't have their trust, or their empathy. Maybe I'm just that unlikable. I'm not worth it.

And I feel like I could've done something about it. If I had been braver and posted my comms sheet sooner, before her post. If I tried harder to make friends there. If I posted more art. If I. If I just.

I don't know what to do, and I feel terrible about these thoughts. She deserves it ! She deserves more than I do. She's nicer and I'm just me. A prickly, bored, unfazed, egocentric narcissist who can only cry about themself. I feel such shame, and guilt, but I can't help it. I am a naturally envious, jealous, and putrid shell of a person.

I've been trying to be nicer but I don't have the energy to talk to them, and I feel too awkward. I feel so fucking lonely all the time and I need validation. I seek for love. I want to be seen and loved and cherished. I want them to look at me but I don't do my part. All I'm good is my art, and it's not even that fucking good. My worth is my posts. Gosh, I feel so stupid.

Why am I like this ?

I feel angry to myself that I can't be normal. I don't make friends I don't talk to anyone I don't make connections.

I don't post a lot and I am not that active.

The worst thing even is that I don't even have a job.

I don't want to charge too much, I don't want to get paid too little. I don't want to burn out and not be able to get more comms. I don't want to not get any comms at all.

This other artist is in the same fandom as I am ( haikyuu ) so we basically have the same clients. If I charge too high, they will compare our prices and choose hers. "Her art is better" "her art is worth more" "at least she will offer full bodies, when you only will offer headshots"

They will choose her, and I don't know what to do. I know we're in a crisis, economy is in shambles, and people just can't afford to support both artists. I know that ! I know that and I can't change my pricing because it's already cheap, for me. People always say to charge more but most people just don't want me. And my commissions always tend to look like shit because I am too afraid to upset people. I need to prove they did the right choice by commissioning me. I need them to know I did my best. I want them to be happy. But all I feel is that I'm failing !

I'm failing at everything, look where I am !

I DONT EVEN HAVE A FUCKING DOLLAR. I DONT HAVE 1 DOLLAR. One fucking dollar.

And I feel like I'm going crazy. How could I not ? I don't have a job, I will never get a job, I am barely surviving at college, I have no plans for the future, I am neurodivergent and no one will hire me, I don't work well with other people I am not friendly. I'm just.

I'm bad at being a person.

I don't know what to do. Yes I will be opening comms. And I'm considering lowering my prices. I don't blame this artist at all. It's not her fault, and I know that.

And I don't wish her any harm. I just. I feel envy. Why am I not her.

Why am I so bad at this ?

[fourdiagnosesinatrenchcoat]

Do you have some queer book recommendations, then? Regarding the recent post?

OH BOY DO I!

I'm a professional bookseller and try to get paid for my opinions but let's be honest, when someone asks for queer book recs you are going to struggle to shut me up two hours later

Amateur by Thomas Page McBee

This transcendent memoir chronicles the author's experience training to fight in a charity boxing match as an absolute novice--and by extension his exploration of masculinity as a transgender man. Beautiful writing about what it means to be a man in 21st-century America.

Bingo Love by Tee Franklin et al

Bingo Love made me cry on an Amtrak train. It's a wonderful romance about two women who fall in love as teenagers, but are separated by their families, only to come into each other's lives again when they are grandmothers.

The Rules do Not Apply by Ariel Levy

Ariel Levy's blistering memoir is a beautiful piece of writing that centers around a time of her life that can only be described as devastating. Perhaps it is her journalistic training that keeps this story from feeling sentimental. I loved every word.

The Manor House Governess:A Novel by C A Castle

This is a modern queer take on Jane Eyre (which was never really my thing -- Heathcliff rules, Rochester drools) in which a gender queer young person takes a job as essentially a governess for the daughter of a wealthy British landholder. The household is full of mystery, including the girl's brooding older brother who our hero is undeniably drawn to.

Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson

I've read this book so many times.

The reader never learns the gender of the narrator of this love story--which would feel like a gimmick in the hands of a lesser writer. Winterson uses the premise to explore the nature of love and self.

The Magic Fish (A Graphic Novel) by Trung Le Nguyen

This is a gorgeous coming of age story, full of art nouveau-esque illustration, fairy tales, immigrant longing and struggles, and young queer hearts just pulsing with life.

You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson

**read this one when you need the same feeling as you got from Red White and Royal Blue but with a little less sex**

This book charmed my pants off. Liz is a wonderful, memorable heroine, with a lot of obstacles in her way, but that doesn't stop her from finding her path forward. I laughed, I cried, I didn't want it to end.

Check, Please! Book 1 by Ngozi Ukazu

**read this when you need the same feeling you got from Heartstopper but with a little more sex**

You don't HAVE to love ice hockey to be totally charmed by Eric "Bitty" Bittle, the newest member of Samwell University's men's hockey team, and by Jack Zimmerman, the team's moody, stern, and totally gorgeous captain. Along with Book 2, presented here are Bitty's 4 years as a college hockey player, and the lessons he learns about life--and himself--in that time.

Outlawed by Anna North

A gender-bent, feminist, alternate universe Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid retelling, set in a world where the fledgling United States was decimated by a flu epidemic in the early 1800s. The remaining colonizer population is dedicated wholeheartedly to fertility and childbearing, so women (like Ada, our heroine) who cannot bear healthy babies are sent off to convents at best, or tried as witches at worst. She teams up with the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang, and her adventures begin.

The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson

High-brow science fiction that takes on issues of class (& related issues of race), corporate power, and personal identity.

Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi

A novel like none I've ever read before. Emezi drew from their own experiences for this narrative about self and power and sex, integrated with Nigerian folklore.

Mortal Follies: A Novel by Alexis Hall

A lesbian Regency romance narrated by Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream? Yes please! A sexy, fun, fantastical tale that's kicked off with the protagonist falling under a curse that promises ever increasing scandal and danger.

The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

A lush, thrilling sapphic fantasy set in an Indian inspired world full of dangerous magic and even more dangerous politics.

Mrs. S by K Patrick

Mrs S is gorgeous and casually devastating, a sexy slow burn obsessive forbidden queer love story. Every note is exactly right.

I'm stopping there cuz it's late and I've had a day but this is just pulling a fraction of the titles on my staff picks list.

[chronicastrolog]

11H reflections

okay. well here it is. that's me; in the red. you're probably wondering how I got here -

lmfao jk. anyway, I just finished my 11th house profection year and I was going to start writing about my 12H year, but I deadass just started it yesterday and feel like I'm better off reflecting rn than predicting.

I have a taurus 11h, meaning my timelord for the year was Venus. my 11h has Saturn & Jupiter in it, so the things I'm gonna be focusing on to aid in my reflections are the conditions of Venus, Saturn, and Jupiter in my chart, along with the aspects + house affairs.

(for those learning, I'll come back to this and link keywords with related posts)

the condition of my Venus is rough, and even tho I have my own debates on it, astrologically it's not in the best place lol. my Venus is in the third house, debilitated in virgo, squaring pluto, trining mars, trining Saturn, and sextiling my ascendant. (pretty bitches stand up)

my Saturn is in the 11th house, in taurus, squaring Uranus, trining my Venus, and sextiling my ascendant.

and my Jupiter is finding planetary joy in the 11th house, in taurus, squaring Neptune, trining mars, and opposing my sun.

throughout this entire year, I met multiple people in profection years with Venus as their timelords. the vast majority, actually. I spent an insane amount of time and money addressing my appearance, changing my look, and finally accepting what aesthetics are most important to me and my presentation. I came out with my gender, broke up with my partners, and started renting an art studio. I started processing sexual violence and trauma, and got a personal trainer. I lost a fuck ton of friends and relationships, and while that's a Venusian affair in and of itself, the 11h as the house of friends means this was already gonna be addressed in some way. I did get new friends though and reconnected with many of my old ones. I gained many new clients, swung intensely between having a lot of money and none at all, and was given an artist and activist grant that someone nominated me for right before the closing of this profection year. this entire year, love, beauty, aesthetics, money, friends, community, and work, have been themes for me. Venus showed up and showed out as my timelord, and pluto came with her all the challenges and lessons of a square. mars was right there adding rigor, energy, and even aggression sometimes with the ease and consistency of a trine. Saturn was present the entire time, rewarding me and pushing me and revealing himself.

on the topic of Saturn, I found that in every thing I just mentioned, I kept running into lessons and messages on consistency, hard work, and justice. I really had to confront my relationship to time and I started to think about elders and authority in my life. I was drawn to traditions and because the 11h is also about dreams and wishes, I found myself being asked to wish and dream with determination. very Saturnian shit; the trine Saturn makes to my timelord and its occupancy in profection house made him a huge presence in my life, and I began Saturn devotion in ways I've never considered before. I had a run in with my dad who I hadn't spoken to in years. I met up with him in Puerto Rico, where I'm from, and found that an interesting location to meet my dad (Saturn) in my place of origin (sextile ascendant). I felt a lot of pressure and dedication to my own leadership and particularly to any community efforts. it was incredibly depressing many times, and felt really dark, but there was always a small light that I know Saturn wanted me to work to pursue, and Jupiter was always there just asking me to believe, and maintain faith.

and that was probably the biggest lesson I learned this year, from the biggest planet in the sky - faith, belief, and trust. throughout every financial drought, I had to trust something would come back to me. through every breakup and friendship ending, I had to believe it was for the best and that better would come. when my community felt too small, and I felt like I had worked too hard already for its growth, I had to just have faith that expansion booms when the time is right. I felt spiritually deprived, diluted, and jaded for many moments, and then found myself quickly being called to believe anyway, and the act of believing itself would frequently move mountains for me. I learned how to see faith as an action (mars trine), and to dream anyway, even when it's hard or I feel confused and unsure (square Neptune). I really had to confront how much I don't believe in myself, and even more than that, how much I'm losing by not taking a chance on myself every time I can (opposing sun).

this year was difficult for me in ways I can't really get into because it simply doesn't compare to how generative, restorative, and progressive it was. I've been feeling stuck for a long time, and even though I'm in the same place, in the same body, still waiting on and working towards a lot of changes I want to see, I feel equipped for those things now and more excited, more hopeful, and more alive for it. it was a transformative setup for what I think is about to be a whole new year of chaos, brought to me by my scorpio mercury. I think the 11h is for wishing and hoping for the things that the 12h can start dreaming and manifesting.

[pocketbelt]

Neon Genesis Evangelion 3.0: You Can (Not) Redo

(3.33 is just the BD home release edit/version, I need to find a source for movie posters and shit for these)

It's difficult to talk about this one in this context because it's one of those things you just need to go into first. It's fucking excellent, I'll say that easily, from start to finish it's a fucking ride, but it's also third in a set of four movies that are very tightly bound and it is distinctly aware of and is using that fact.

It's not even purely a "NO SPOILERS YOU NEED TO GO IN BLIND" thing, though I'd say that's ideal, it's that a lot of what made this work for me is predicated on the two that came before, 2.0 especially. You really do need to watch these as a set.

I'm going to put spoiler/specific detail shit under the Read More, just to have them down somewhere, but suffice to say I'm dying for the cinema release of the fourth movie (which I have found out is coming over a year after the US release because The PAL Delay never truly left)

Dying to see 3.0+1.0 now.

First off, each of these mimics the original show's "Next Time on Evangelion" episode previews at the end after the credits, and like most of the elements these have drawn from the original it uses it very cheekily and cleverly. Which is to say, 2.0's Next Time drops some brand new facts (there being an 8th Eva Unit, when only up to 6 had been mentioned) in and around detailing the events prior to the original show's end/the End of Evangelion's opening events (NERV being sieged, personnel shot or arrested, the dawning of Third Impact). This was preceded by a post-credits scene of Kaworu in Eva Unit 06 beaning a lance through 01's head seemingly to interrupt/prevent Third Impact from taking off.

So 3.0 opening in what is very explicitly, from visual alone, a post-Third Impact world with Asuka and Mari in their Eva Units retrieving a sealed Unit 01 with Shinji inside in a very flashy action sequence against a brand new Angel is an eye-opener of a punch. It's this fascinating thing where 1.0 and especially 2.0 deviate in clear ways that are rather important and obviously meaningful, and thus not even showing a changed or redone version of End of Eva's events suggest it happened more or less exactly as it did before, excepting what was said (in 2.0's Next TIme) about the actions of Unit 08 (Mari's Eva). This is reinforced by Asuka wearing an eye-patch over the eye the Lance of Longinus pierces in EoE, and Unit 02 having a disabled eye to match (purposefully so for aesthetic reasons, I love Asuka and her dedication to keeping an aesthetic): even if Asuka isn't the same Asuka as she was in the original (with her different surname and all), in the end it still broadly happened the same way.

It's all delivered so cleanly through character designs and the Third Impact visuals and starting where it does, it's top tier stuff.

That's basically what I mean when I said above that talking about this one "in this context" was tricky, because basically I just want to gush about shit like that with it. How the entire lengthy battle sequences against the Angels following Shinji's retrieval is a super-long sequence of establishing how far man has come, re-emerging from Third Impact and now able to step to Angels through more than just Evas, and more importantly underlining just how much everyone has changed with the passage of time and why...but Shinji hasn't, as the time between the end of 2.0 and now just passed basically instantly. We didn't get to see what happened, and neither did he, and the unmooring effect is well done.

I have a pretty good idea of where this is all going in a thematic sense (it's about change, in all the ways one can - and should - change, from the simple and surface things to the more personal) but for the actual "where is the story going" i've no idea. 3.0 is completely and entirely new, the remake directive has been thrown off and it's going to new territory. The very title of the fourth, "3.0+1.0", is rife with meaning, though I don't know that I'm thinking of the same meanings.

I can't imagine waiting for these as they came out, though at the same time I kinda wish I did. The waiting must have been a hell of a thing. I'm fucking dying for 3.0+1.0 now.

[showmethelesbians]

Digital Hearts

In the vast expanse of cyberspace, two souls were about to find each other in a connection that would transcend time and space. Commander Jane Shepard, an Alliance officer with a thirst for adventure, found herself seeking refuge in an online forum dedicated to interstellar exploration and alien cultures. It was there that she stumbled upon a post that caught her eye.

User: BlueStar23

Post: The Lost Civilizations of the Protheans - A Forgotten Legacy

ComShepard: Wow, this is an incredible read! Your knowledge of the Protheans is impressive, BlueStar23.

BlueStar23: Thank you, CommanderShepard. Your own insights on intergalactic politics are equally fascinating. I've been following your discussions too.

ComShepard: Really? I'm flattered! I'm always eager to learn more about the universe we live in.

BlueStar23: Likewise. There's so much to discover, and the mysteries of ancient civilizations never cease to amaze me.

As days turned into weeks, Shepard and BlueStar23 continued to exchange thoughts, theories, and ideas about the universe. They found themselves drawn to each other's intellect and curiosity. Their online interactions became a cherished part of their daily lives, and they often found themselves spending hours lost in conversation.

ComShepard: How do you know so much about the Protheans? Are you an archaeologist or a historian?

BlueStar23: You could say that. I have a passion for uncovering the past, especially ancient civilizations. There's something about the way they lived, loved, and built their legacies that intrigues me.

ComShepard: That's beautiful. I feel the same way about exploring the unknown. You have a way with words.

BlueStar23: Thank you. Your enthusiasm for adventure is contagious.

As their conversations deepened over the weeks and months, they began to share more personal details about their lives. Shepard learned about BlueStar23's reclusive nature, and how the digital world offered her a sense of comfort and connection she couldn't find elsewhere.

ComShepard: You know, I feel like I can be myself with you. It's strange because we've never met, but I feel this connection.

BlueStar23: I feel it too. There's something about you, Shepard, that draws me in. It's like we're connected by something beyond words.

Shepard couldn't help but smile at the screen, her heart fluttering with anticipation whenever she saw BlueStar23's name online. She had never felt this way before, and it both excited and scared her. Despite the distance between them, she found herself falling for someone she had never seen or met in person.

BlueStar23: I have to admit something, Shepard. I think about you even when we're not chatting.

ComShepard: You do? I... I think about you too. It's like you've become a part of my life.

BlueStar23: I feel the same way. You've brought so much joy and understanding into my world, and I can't imagine my days without our conversations.

The bond between them grew stronger with each passing day, and they found solace in the virtual presence of each other. But as Shepard's responsibilities in the Alliance increased, she knew she would have to make a difficult choice.

ComShepard: There's something I need to tell you, Liara. I've been assigned to the SSV Normandy. It's an incredible opportunity, but it also means I won't have much time for our conversations.

BlueStar23: I understand, Jane. Your duties are important, and I wouldn't want to get in the way of that.

Shepard's heart ached at the thought of losing their connection. She had come to care deeply for this mysterious person on the other side of the screen, and the idea of saying goodbye was unbearable.

ComShepard: I don't want to say goodbye. Is there any other way we can stay in touch?

BlueStar23: Maybe someday, we'll find a way to meet again. Until then, I'll treasure the memories we've shared.

With a heavy heart, Shepard bid farewell to the digital world that had brought her so much joy and connection. She threw herself into her new role on the Normandy, but a part of her always wondered what had become of BlueStar23.

Ten years passed, and Shepard's life had changed drastically. Yet, as she fought her way through the chaos of battle on the planet Therum, she couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity when she saw the trapped figure in the distance.

As she reached the figure and held her close, Shepard felt a sense of deja vu wash over her. It was Liara T'Soni, the brilliant archaeologist she had once fallen in love with online. In that moment of recognition, Shepard knew that this encounter was more than a mere coincidence. Their digital hearts had found each other once again, and the universe had brought them together in the most unexpected circumstances.

As the stars shone above them, Shepard held onto Liara, knowing that their journey had only just begun, and the online connection they had shared would now evolve into something even greater.

[mxnzies]

WIP Something

thank you so much to @captainmarkarth for thinking of me for this WIP [Something]... thing! challenge? basically you post a snippet of a current WIP for people to read, which is such a super cool idea!

anyways, it means a lot and it's so thoughtful! thank you again lovely ❤️ for my tags I'm gonna go with: @jellyfitzjelly @setaflow @kahootqueen69 @bup-iv-icaine @fighting-naturalist & @caravaggiosbrushes 🥰❤️ please feel free to do it even if you weren't tagged though, everyone's WIP collections are always fun to take a peek into!

this is a WIP I've been mulling over for a while now, the beginning of a oneshot between Lady Dimitrescu and an OFC. dunno what it's called, but hey when the horny calls the horny calls. just some minor TWs for blood drinking and a mature/T rating for this bit. hope you enjoy!! 💖

Crackling flames spread warmth across her skin as she lay limp in her Lady’s arms, breathing slowly as caresses from cool fingertips ghost across her body.

She does not know how long she has spent in this embrace. Time slows when her Lady commands it, every sensation upon her body magnified by powers unknown to her. She is never frightened, never worried, never hesitant. For she knows her Lady will only take what she needs. For she knows her Lady will bring her ecstasy in return for her offering.

The wooden beams high above are out of focus. She jolts as her Lady’s hands move lower while whispers of praise wash over her like water. A sense of purity comes from those words. She has been given a holy purpose: to live and serve the rest of her days within these warm walls, dedicating her every breath, her every heartbeat, to her Lady.

A breathy moan escapes her throat when she feels lips press against her jaw. An unspoken command is issued through the action: bare yourself to me.

The fire swims like water before her eyes. Tightness builds in her chest; she knows what her Lady is to do. She longs for the spark of pleasure that floods through her body at the piercing of the skin. It is an addiction. Her Lady merely crooks a finger to indicate her want, and she comes, eager to give patronage.

A moment later, her back arches in pleasure, the tightness dissipating wonderfully. Fangs suck her blood like honey, a deep moan reverberating through her Lady’s chest. You are a delicacy, the memory murmurs in her mind. Never before has she felt so whole in another’s arms. She can barely recall a time where she ever felt as complete as she does now, keening with her pleasure.

The haze in her mind only increases as the warm blood is drawn to satiate her Lady’s hunger. Once, she did feel fear at the thought of her Lady drinking so much her body would dry, but her Lady is anything but selfish with the blood flowing under her skin.

Fingers gently fist themselves in the fabric of the satin night-dress as a climax from the feeding alone causes her whole body to shudder. A large hand rests across her abdomen, but does not travel lower. If this is enough to make you squirm, I cannot imagine how easily you would break if I were to stimulate you further, my Maiden.

Pitiful groans leave her dry lips when she feels the fangs retract from the vein in her neck. A gentle huff of amusement fans across her exposed skin at the sound; she can feel the smile on her Lady’s lips as she gently swipes her tongue over the small puncture marks to seal them. “You have done so well,” she purrs; the appraisal makes the woman nestled in her lap smile tiredly, the fists loosening and dropping down as she curls further into her Lady’s embrace.

Sleep now, Maiden, her voice comes as if in a dream, though it is spoken in a low tone. Until tomorrow.

[ratsalad]

AHHHHH you get me !! 🖤💚👻 (my response might not be the most coherent atm due to my sleepiness, but PLS feel free to hop in my DMs to chat more if ya want!! I need more ppl to rock out with 🤘)

Funny enough, I hadn’t gotten into Ghost until late 2019, when I came upon Prequelle for the 1st time.., much less the music being so good, I thought the theatrics were the coolest, & ‘fuck yea! The plague!! Creepy history of plague doctors & miasma & ✨aesthetic✨...little did I know agjsksk. So basically, Ghost accidentally became a coping mechanism of mine for 2020 quarantine 😂 the lore, the look, much less Tobias being an angel in interviews was a perfect distraction. Every album hit better than the next. I got lucky enough to get to go drive to see them in Texas last month & they are MAGICAL live ahsjgahajsh

Idk how I stumbled onto my 1st Type O song, but I think it was ‘Be My Druidess,’ & tmi, but it wound up on a femdom playlist of mine, & I oop 🤭👀

I think I actually got further into Type O bc of some Ghost fan blogs!! Like I saw some of the gifs/photo sets/snips of interviews & thought “who are these funny fuckers & who is that Vampire Gigachad in the back?”. That gigachad turned out to be the charming Peter Steele, & the rest is history 😂💕💚🖤

How’d you get into these bands? 💚🖤👻

Also literally all of this:

“YES YOU GET IT!!!!!!!!!!! it's the eroticism, the tongue-in-cheek, how if it's supposed to frighten you it also excites you (which is always, ALWAYS my favorite thing about horror and things that are horror-leaning)”

YOU PUT IT INTO WORDS!!! Mmph yes! Like horror isn’t just fear, it’s fun!! It can be fucking fun, lmao, it can not take itself seriously while still so dedicated to making gorgeous art & music 🖤 (don’t get me started on the eroticism or we’ll be here all night)

VAMPIRE GIGACHAD ASJHJDKLFBFGKJSDHFKJ I LAUGHED FOR 30 SOLID SECONDS...... to me he will always be Big Tiddy Green Man :')

i'm so happy that you got to see ghost live!!!! i agree, before this pre-imperatour the prequelle theatrics were to die for.

i just finished rambling about how i got into ghost in this post here, but i have fewer memories of how i got into type o. it was definitely around the same time - spring/summer of 2018, i have strong memories of christian woman playing ON REPEAT ALL THE TIME, but before that i listened to the their cover of black sabbath (from the satanic perspective), which is the song that got me into them. i'm quite sure i listened to it only because @verdigrisvolva was talking about it, either on her blog or somewhere in the replies of a post, but i could be misremembering! but the cover was just. so slow and dark and sensual, like a drowsy summer afternoon with the blinds drawn closed, and, idk man i think it awakened something in me 😳

i'll be honest, bloody kisses is the only type o record i've listened to - i've heard a couple songs off their other albums, but never gotten around to checking them out. despite this i got quite attached to the band in 2018, to the point where when one of my friends went to new york i asked her to send me pics of pete's memorial if she ever went to prospect park lol; i've been meaning to listen to more of their stuff and i probably will soon!

[welcometohighwater]

I'm not the anon who messaged you before about your religious melancholia tag, but I have noticed that in the past and always felt fascinated by and drawn to it. I come from a pretty religious family and I used to have a very strong, dedicated belief in Christianity. I wouldn't say I'm not a Christian anymore, but my belief has relaxed and expanded to what I'd now call contemplative mysticism, or maybe panentheism. If you've seen Midnight Mass, everything that the character Erin says in her final scene is what I mean when I use the word mysticism. And I think that leaves room for everything, while still being able to see the good and healthy things in every faith as well as everywhere in the natural world. Anyway, long way of saying, I like that you have that tag and always find the posts in that tag fascinating.

ahh, thanks dude! i think there's a lot of complicated baggage to religion in general, and christianity specifically (all of this, of course, as seen through my very limited, sheltered perspective as an american). there's been so much hypocrisy in american christianity, so much twisting of the basic tenant of being good to other people (which is what i feel like is the best interpretation of the actual teachings of jesus christ say) to justify violence and hate and fear of the different, the other, the lives of people whose experiences are different. it's a lot to reckon with, it's a lot to stomach when you can plainly see what people have done with what seems like such a good thing. to an extent i think a lot of my "religious melancholia" tag stuff is trying to figure out a lot of this, culturally as a american southerner. there's a sort of violent judgement in the christianity i've seen in the baptist church (they tell you that only god can judge, but the weight of the preacher's eye seems heavier in its consequences). there's a sort of fatalism in the proclamations of hellfire and brimstone on the signs along the road and on the sides of barns (my mother's always been a little obsessive about the prophesied End of Times, and i think i've inherited something of that fascination). i'm trying to make sense of it all in that tag, reckon what i've read and what i've experienced.

there's times when, as much as i'd like to, i just can't believe that everything in our world resulted from sheer cosmic randomness. i don't see how consciousness, the immensity of human imagination and the complexity of our internal experiences and relationships with others, could have just organically happened, without the guiding hand of some creator or higher power or something beyond our current level of understanding. and i know i'm not nearly smart enough to figure that shit out, and i know that i haven't done nearly enough thinking and definitely reading and learning about all these tihings, either, because i'm kind of like a june bug stupidly, reckless bouncing off the same ideas again and again but getting nowhere.

i like your perspective a lot. i like the idea of contemplative mysticism, and panentheism (i'd never heard that particular term before, but after looking it up really quick, i'm curious to learn more). i have not seen midnight mass yet although i'm really curious about it (sounds like it'd be up my alley), but i've got a weak stomach for depictions of violence. i might check it out soon

anyway, all of this is a really long way of saying thanks. i love hearing the perspectives of others on issues of religion, particularly christianity. (i love hearing about other religions too, but that's strictly a learning process, i have nothing to contribute to the conversation since i wasn't raised in any other faith tradition). religion is intensely personal, but it's also been such a driving force in the development of the world, and there's so much to learn about and from what people believe in