#juno's fics: bad idea

[hyunsvngs]

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! - stepdad!bang chan x fem!reader

wc: 10.2k

cw: chan is your mother's boyfriend and you want to fuck him, chan is 30 and reader is described to be younger & in college, lix is a menace, changbin is a moral compass, you do not care about morals, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. right?

a/n: it's so here <3 my first commission! i hope u all love it <3 smut warnings under the cut ofc. i also tried a new format with this fic so pls let me know what u think?!?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dirty talk, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, cumplay if u squint?, humiliation if u squint?, anal fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), edging maybe briefly, sex with feelings

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You hated going home for the holidays.

You were a rich kid, to put it simply. Your mother loved to leech off the men that she was with, marrying them quickly and trying to suck as much money as she could out of them in gifts and straight up cash before they eventually clued on and left her. It had been why your father had left when you were a mere infant, but you’d always lived in luxury due to the incessant payments that he was forced to give. You’d never met him, but there was a plus side - he was paying your college tuition, where you met your best friends.

Perhaps if you thought about it a bit more you’d realise that the only reason you went to college was to get away from your mother. She pissed you off, sauntering around the house in silk kimonos with a maid trailing behind her, pausing to look in mirrors so that she could choose where her next round of botox would hit. She frustrated you beyond belief, but you still had to go home for Christmas. Annoyingly early, too, because she had a surprise for you.

Okay, well, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d FaceTimed you a week earlier, an irritatingly wrinkle-free face popping up on the screen as she sipped mulled wine and revelled in your absence. She had a new boyfriend, she said. You’d love him, she said. Your opinion matters most to me, she said. The last one you knew to be a lie. God, you hated her. 

Still, you lugged your suitcase through the front door and huffed, booting the side with your foot to try and shake some of the snow off. No surprise, she hadn’t helped you in from your taxi. She hadn’t even come to get you from the airport a mere twenty minute drive away. You dropped the suitcase on the floor, giving it another kick just for good measure, and then you were trudging into the kitchen. You’d heard voices from there, so it had to be them.

“Oh, honey!” Your mother chirped upon seeing you. You couldn’t see the face of the man washing dishes behind her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and back facing you. You didn’t care anyway. “You made it home safe, then.”

“Yeah. The taxi driver was super nice and let me call him mum,” You quipped. She furrowed her eyebrows, lips pursed. 

“Okay, you’re being weird already,” She mumbled, and then shook her head, shrugging it off. She walked to the man by the sink, spinning him around by his slender waist to display him to you. “This is Chan!”

You felt silly, stood in the kitchen doorway in oversized clothes and covered in ivory snow. The man’s eyes found you, shocked by your mother’s harsh manoeuvring, and he blinked with surprise at your figure. You blinked with surprise, too.

Chan was hot. Incredibly so, actually, and he looked young. Younger than your mother, with a big nose you wanted to ride and plush lips parting as he raised one hand to wave at you, still wet with soapy dishwasher. You wanted to lick him clean. The white shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were fit to burst around incredibly toned biceps. You allowed your gaze to wander down, eyes focusing on the thick thighs in the black dress trousers he wore. 

There was no way this was real. “Okay,” You burst out laughing, eyes darting between Chan and your mother. “And, who is Chan? A friend? A colleague? He’s not your boyfriend.”

Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I am. I’m your mother’s boyfriend, sweetheart.”

His voice was deep - too deep, deep enough to haunt your dreams and those late night sessions you had in your bed with your trusty vibrator. This was going to be trouble. You were going to be trouble.

“You’re shitting me,” You couldn’t get the amused smile off of your face. No fucking way. Your mother hadn’t bagged that. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be. Mum, he’s closer to my age than he is to yours.”

“I’m thirty, actually,” He mumbled, looking sheepish. Your mother stared at you in shock, jaw dropped at your brazenness. 

“I rest my case,” You concluded, nodding decisively. When the two of them just continued to stare, you bristled slightly, starting to hop from one foot to the other. Awkward. “You… are you actually together?”

“Yes, honey,” Your mother confirmed, still looking shocked. You scoffed.

“Okay, I really need to go, actually,” You gushed, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I’m- I’m going to my room. Really nice to meet you, Chan, really.” 

Shooting upstairs, you completely ignored your suitcase still leaking snow all over the hardwood floors and darted into your bedroom. It still looked exactly how you’d left it, band posters all over the walls and teddies littering the end of your bed. You threw yourself on top of the mattress, fingers yanking your phone out of your pocket and clicking the button on the most recent group call on FaceTime. Immediately, your college best friends picked up.

“There’s already a problem?” Felix scrunched his nose up, face way too close to the camera. Changbin was on the other side, face looking confused in the little square designated to him on your phone screen.

“I just met my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, right, how did that go?” Changbin questioned, tilting his head to the side. You caught sight of your face in your own little square, flushed and appalled.

“He is thirty years of age, Changbin,” You began. Felix gasped, tiny hand moving to cover his mouth. “He is thirty years of age, and he is really fucking hot.”

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbled, muffled behind his hand. “Oh my god, you have to fuck him.”

Changbin choked on air. “She has to- No, Felix, no!”

“No, I can’t do that. It would be fucked up,” You mused. Or.. “Wait, would it even be that fucked up? He is closer to my age. I hate my mother.”

Felix’s hand fell, and he giggled before speaking in his trademark goblin voice - “Fuck him.”

“Don’t!” Changbin shrieked, his phone shaking in his hand. “I really think this is a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Felix grinned, looking smug. “I’d do it.”

“There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do,” Changbin retorted. Felix stuck his tongue out at him. You, however, were silent, musing on the situation and staring at your wall. Could you do it? Changbin noticed, sighing. “Baby, please no.”

You licked your lips, nodding. You could do it. You wanted to do it - needed it, even. Those biceps were going to plague your life forever otherwise. “Operation fuck my mother’s boyfriend is a go.”

Felix screamed in delight. Changbin ended the call.

SATURDAY

It was time. Your mother was out at brunch with some friends, and you had plans to invade Chan’s personal space because you had a feeling he’d be too polite to tell you otherwise. You knew he’d set up the spare room as his own home studio, because your mother had delighted in telling you how Chan was a super successful music producer and was often tinkering away in there these days. You were going to let yourself in, try to get to know him a bit.

The knock you landed on the door was anything but subtle. Your fist rapped on the door and you heard a little hum in response, so you swung open the door, eyes landing on Chan hunched over his desk. He looked even younger like this, beanie pulled down over dark curls and headphones positioned on his head. He continued to stare at the file on his computer, head bobbing absentmindedly, so you strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around on his computer chair, blinking confusedly at you. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi,” You beamed. “Sorry about last night. I was rude. I was feeling kinda weird, y’know, with the travelling.”

“No, I completely get it,” Chan put his hands up as if to diffuse the atmosphere. You nodded, still smiling. Chan stared at you when you didn’t respond instantly, and you crossed your hands behind your back, pressing against the plaid pattern of the dress you’d chosen for today. It was all part of the plan - the tight, short dress was perfect for seduction. He looked down at your chest, before clearing his throat, reverting his gaze to your eyes. “Um… did you need something, by the way?”

You gasped, as if remembering. “Oh, yeah! I did. My mother told me you were a music producer, and I was really curious. I was wondering if you’d show me some stuff…?”

It was Chan’s turn to smile, nodding excitedly. “Of course. Here, put these on.”

He linked two fingers around his headphones and handed them to you, to which you obediently put them over your ears. He was quieter now, but you could still slightly hear him mumbling as he found a spare chair for you to sit on. Your eyes scanned the files, eventually fixating on a file titled Drive. That one had to be dirty.

“Okay, so. I have this one, it’s my most recent one, and-”

“I want to listen to that one,” You cut him off, pointing at the song. When you turned to look at him, he was biting his lip nervously, pink tinting the ends of his ears and his cheeks. “What is it, Chan?”

“You- that one is a little, uh… heh. A little inappropriate.”

Unsurprisingly, you darted over his desk to grab the computer mouse and double click on the file. Chan squealed, but you ignored him, listening to the song. You were right. It was dirty, the two singers crooning about something that was a thinly-veiled innuendo about driving. It took you a second and then you clicked. One of them was Chan. This was Chan singing, on a song about sex. God, could he get any hotter?

You slid one of the ear cups off of your ear, turning to Chan with a shit eating grin. “This is you singing? You’re really good, Chan.” You weren’t lying. He was really good, and it had you wondering why he was a producer and not singing.

“Yeah, well, it was just an experimental track. Me and my mate were just messing around,” Chan mumbled shyly, hand scratching the back of his neck. You tried to avoid staring at the way his biceps tensed in his tight t-shirt at the movement. He was still blushing, but you had to kick it up a notch.

“It is kinda inappropriate, though, isn’t it?” You chirped excitedly. Chan’s lips parted, as if he was looking for something to say. His eyes stared into your own, piercing and dark and all-consuming. “I think you’re a little dirty, Channie.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed at your use of the nickname. “That’s- you can’t say that. That’s inappropriate.”

“What?” You feigned shock-horror. Play dumb. “I can’t call you Channie? Why not?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Chan groaned, pointing an accusing finger at you. You giggled anyway, jumping up and slipping the headphones back onto his head. You made sure to trail your fingertips down his neck after doing so. He shivered noticeably. You smiled.

“That was super good, Channie, thank you.”

You didn’t miss his groan of disbelief as you bounded out of the room. You had him, and it was easier than you’d expected it to be.

SUNDAY

Something was happening. You weren’t sure what, just yet, but something was happening. Chan was acting a little weird after what happened the day before, and you’d already caught Felix and Changbin up on the nonsense plan you had. 

“I think you need to accept that this is just down to you having a fat crush on him and severe daddy issues,” Changbin mused, and you gasped. He was right though. This wasn’t completely about getting back at your mother in a sick, twisted way. You wanted him.

Phase two of your plan was underway as soon as you caught sight of him on the sofa. He was watching some cheesy Christmas movie, your mother tinkering away in the kitchen - when had she ever cooked? - so it was prime seducing time. He had one of the thick throw blankets over his lap, fingers playing with the fluffy fabric absentmindedly. You hopped into the living room in your short pyjamas, frowning at Chan when you felt the goosebumps on your legs.

“Whatcha watching?” You asked, making him jump when he realised your presence. He smiled nonetheless, motioning to the seat next to him, and you took it. You perched and ensured that you left no room between you both.

“Some cheesy film. The woman’s marrying a prince, I think.”

“Sounds awful. I can’t wait to watch it,” You smiled, and Chan chuckled, relaxing on the sofa. You managed to make it five whole minutes before you were rubbing your hands up your legs, trying to create a semblance of warmth. 

Chan turned to you, frowning. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” You whined, pulling your legs up into your chest. “‘S cold in here, right?”

“C’mere,” He mumbled, reaching for the end of the blanket and throwing it over your lap. You hummed contentedly, inching a little closer under the guise of the cold weather. The blanket was warm. You were kind of jealous he’d been in such comfort this whole time while you’d been thinking of ways to get his cock inside your mouth. 

“Thanks, Channie,” Chan only nodded, continuing to watch the film. You had a feeling he was pretending to be so focused on it, given you weren’t sure he even knew the plot before your arrival. 

You squirmed on your seat, thrashing each way until you found yourself comfortable, hand splayed over Chan’s knee. He tensed under your touch. 

“You’re touching me, sweetheart,” He warned, his voice low and deep. You shivered, turning to him.

“Am I?”

“You are. You’re touching my leg underneath the blanket, aren’t you?”

You hummed. “Is that okay, Chan?”

Chan turned to you, his eyes not even holding any sign of shock. He knew what game you were playing, you realised, and maybe he was playing along. He licked his lips, head back against the sofa, and then he shrugged dismissively. 

“It doesn’t bother me.”

You left your hand there for the whole film. 

MONDAY

The showers at home were something you’d missed. The ones in college didn’t quite cut it - not even now that you lived with Changbin and Felix in your own student home. All three of you were young adults, after all, and that came with you being a little too messy.

At home, you didn’t have to worry about mess. Your mother had cleaners employed with your dad’s money anyway. Admittedly, you realised you were being a little spoiled, so you’d learned to clean up after yourself. The showers were still better, though. Bigger, and the water pressure hit you just right. 

Especially when you detached the shower head and pressed it to your clit. You felt pathetic. You’d only tried to seduce Chan for two fucking days, and there you were, legs shaking at the thought of him. Maybe it was the chase that got you feeling hot, or maybe it was the fact that you might actually be getting somewhere - you might actually be getting close to fucking him, muscles bulging as he ploughed into you. 

It had you pressing the shower head harder, your spare hand coming up to pinch your nipple. You whined, bucking your hips into the water stream. The steam was all over the bathroom by now, staining the shower with condensation and making your skin feel pruned and flushed. Or did you feel flushed from the thoughts of Chan? Maybe he’d fuck you the way you liked. He must have experience, you assumed, being a few years older than you. You thought about how he’d make you feel, how he’d touch you, and how you’d feel in his arms. You thought about how you’d feel when you came, and what it would be like to be with him. You wanted to feel him so badly.

Was he as big down there as he was everywhere else? Sure, he’s not too tall, but he’s every part a man. That much was clear. Would he bend you in half, pushing you into a mating press and fuck you raw the way you liked, cumming inside and letting you call him daddy and-

You wailed, legs trembling with one last buckle before you were cumming. You felt wet, too wet even just from the shower, and you belatedly realised you’d have to wash again. Ugh. This plan needed to end, like… yesterday. 

Coming out of the shower freshly washed, you wrapped a towel around your figure and checked the time on your phone. Your thumb slipped around the screen from the condensation in the bathroom, but the plan was going well. If you left the bathroom now, then hopefully Chan would be heading to bed, and he’d catch you in your towel. Ideally, he’d be so hot for you that he’d just have to have you, and then you could get the thoughts of him out of your head.

You burst out of the room in a flurry of steam and movement, almost tripping over your own feet when you noticed that it had actually fucking worked. Chan stood stock still at the other end of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the way the towel wrapped tightly around your chest, at risk of falling. You smiled, waving innocently, and he stalked towards you. He was seeing red. You could tell from the way he cornered you, crowding around you with the small advantage he had on your height.

“You need to stop this,” He mumbled, eyes looking at your mother’s bedroom door. He was playing a dangerous game. You were, too, and you both knew it. “I’m dating your mother. You need to stop this, sweetheart.”

“Stop what?” You tilted your head, acting confused. “I just had a shower.”

Chan scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking heard you in there.”

Oh. You couldn’t hide your smirk that time. “Yeah, I missed that shower head. Why were you perving on me, Chan?”

Chan rubbed his temples. He wasn’t wearing a beanie today, only a hoodie and baggy joggers. You liked it. You could see his hair like this, dark and curly and frizzy on his head. He looked cute. Wait, what?

He took a deep breath. His eyes moved to fixate on you, tongue running over his teeth. “Why would I be perving on you?”

“Oh, don’t lie,” You crossed your arms over your chest. Chan’s eyes moved down to stare at where your tits bulged over the towel. “I bet you stood there for ages, cock hard in your cute joggers, listening to me moan in the shower. That’s a little fucked up, no? Thinking about your girlfriend’s daughter like that-”

You were cut off by him pushing you to the wall, lips slamming into yours. He bit into your mouth instantly, letting out a deep groan and hands moving to grab your ass through the towel. You let your lips part in a whimper, pushing your tongue into his mouth and running your hands through his hair. It was a filthy exchange of tongue and teeth, and by the end of it, you were gasping, grabbing him by the waist and trying to pull him closer. You pulled away, breathing heavily and your eyes still locked on each other. You both stood there, not speaking, as you both processed what you had just done. You both knew it was wrong, but you wanted it so bad.

Chan stepped back, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You watched in shock as he turned around, walking into your mother’s bedroom and leaving you there. You were wet again. This was getting ridiculous now. 

In your room, Felix screamed so loud you had to turn the volume down on your phone. Changbin choked on air again. 

TUESDAY

You hadn’t seen Chan all day. You presumed he was in his studio, working away on another track while your mother was in work. You were bored. Felix had been spending time with his family, and Changbin was out doing rich kid things that you could sympathise with. Thrashing around on your bed, annoyed and huffing, you decided you were just going to go and annoy Chan. It was your newly favourite pastime to get under his skin.

Stalking down the stairs to his studio, you paused when you heard a voice. Not just one voice, two voices. Was your mother there? No, no way. She never goes into that room, it’s his work room. You’d been in there though. You tried to suppress a grin at that realisation. 

The other voice was a man’s. Chan had a call on speakerphone, judging by the tinny effect covering the unknown male’s voice and Chan humming every so often. Who was the other man? A colleague, or just a friend?

“It’s fucking ridiculous, mate,” Chan groaned. You could barely hear him, and you held your breath, coming closer to the closed door. “I want her so bad, and it’s so wrong. I- I kissed her last night, Minho.”

There were a few yells from the other end of the phone. “You kissed her?! Chan, you fucking animal. You want her so bad, just fuck her. She’s clearly hoping that’s the outcome here.”

You grinned. You were.

“She’s- it’s outrageous. She walks around in practically nothing, and she’s got such a tight fucking body, man. She makes my dick so fucking hard, I’ve never felt anything like it before. Even when I met her, in the kitchen, she was-”

Chan cut himself off with a sigh. ‘Minho’ hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“She’s so bratty. She’s exactly the type of girl I would’ve gone for, before I met her mother.”

“Seriously?” Minho questioned, and Chan agreed. “You have to do it.”

“Minho-”

“No, Chan. I’m serious,” Minho’s voice was firm. “If she’s fucking you up this bad, you can’t have liked her mother that much, yeah? Just do it. You know it’s going to happen anyway.”

“It’s-” Chan began. You could imagine him rubbing his temples in distress behind the door. “She’s younger than me. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m taking advantage, y’know? The ball’s in her court.”

The ball has always been in your court.

“It sounds like she wants you to take advantage, to be honest,” Minho erupted in a fit of giggles, and you found yourself almost laughing along. Minho was annoyingly right. You only hoped he could get rid of that stick up Chan’s ass and get you a good dicking down.

It meant it was time for the next phase of your plan. You assumed Chan had wanted you, embarrassingly so, but you weren’t quite sure until he’d kissed you the day before. After hearing this conversation? Well, you had to do it.

You returned to your room, scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper. If Chan found this, which he would, it meant that he’d come to your room tomorrow night and you could maybe talk about what the fuck was going on. The sexual tension was too much for you, and now you knew he felt the same. Why were you beating around the bush? You had to make something out of this.

You ignored the stuttering of breath you heard when you slid the note under his door, and returned back to your room with a cocky grin.

WEDNESDAY

Chan hadn’t mentioned the note. You didn’t think he would, but you felt disappointed nonetheless. You’d woken up in the morning, eaten breakfast with him and your mother - cringing when he kissed her on the cheek when she left for work - and you’d even done the dishes yourself, letting him slip off to do some work in the studio. It was prime time for him to mention what you’d written, and he hadn’t. It was pissing you off.

Still, good things come to those who wait. You were confident. Felix had been egging you on all day over text, Changbin had been sending random upset emojis. It was perfect. 

Settling on your sheets at night, you felt a little pathetic. You’d lit a few candles, left the curtains just right on the window so that the moonlight billowed in, and Chan hadn’t arrived. Maybe he hadn’t received your note. No, there was no way - you practically heard his response through the door when he saw it slid under. He got the note. Perhaps you’d made him uncomfortable, made him withdraw from you despite all the progress you’d made. Why had you put in so much effort? You didn’t like him, not like that. Or did you? You felt ridiculous, almost like a child waiting for-

A knock on the door brought you out of your self-loathing thoughts, and you jumped up, swinging the bedroom door open. Chan immediately crowded inside of your bedroom, pressing the door shut softly. You stood there in silence, taking him in. He looked cosy, in a baggy hoodie and plaid pyjama bottoms. It was hard to believe he was dating your mother, especially when he looked so vulnerable like this - dark, curly hair still slightly wet from his shower, and his eyes blown wide with an unreadable emotion while he looked at you.

Chan sighed. “You’re really playing with fire. Do you know how this could look, me coming into your room at night? Do you know how wrong this is?”

You faltered. For the first time since meeting Chan, you felt as though he was angry at you. “I- I heard you on the phone, Channie. I thought you wanted me too.”

You watched in awe as Chan crossed your bedroom, groaning and throwing himself onto the bed. He was hard, erect in his bottoms. You blinked confusedly. He was hard just from being in here?

“I do want you,” Chan said, but it was muffled, hidden behind his hands that he had placed over his face in distress. He let them fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling. “I want you so bad that it’s pissing me off beyond belief. I know what you’ve been doing too, trying to seduce me. It’s so pathetic it makes me feel hot, y’know?”

You giggled, following his journey across the room and settling next to him on the bed. You sat cross legged, comfortable in your long pyjamas. The candlelight flickered, casting a glow over his face, and he turned to look at you. He licked his lips, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous-”

“It’s ridiculous that you haven’t fucked me yet,” You responded, quick as a flash. Chan leaned up on his forearms, raising an eyebrow at you. Now was the time. You had to say it. “You know how bad I want you. I touched you up on the sofa, and you let me. You wanted me to, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but-”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’re not wrong,” Chan admitted. You could see the blush on his cheeks despite the dimly lit room.  He took a deep breath before continuing. “I want you, too.” 

Chan shot across the bed, leaning in and kissing you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. It made you wet beyond belief that he just felt like he knew what he was doing, hands travelling down to your waist to softly press you into the sheets. His tongue swept into your mouth, pressing against yours and you whimpered, making him groan into the kiss. When his hands went up to your hair, he intertwined his fingers in the strands and pulled, making you gasp and let out a heady, hot breath. He pulled away, lips parted when he stared at you. 

“You are such a horny little thing, it’s so hot,” He mumbled, lips pressing to your neck. He bit your skin sharply, making you keen and spread your legs, allowing him to position his hips between your thighs. The movement pressed his bulge into your core, and you tried not to shift and move your hips in a rhythm of pleasure. His fingers traced over your skin, and he chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made your heart race. He pulled back, leaning back on his legs and staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

You paused. “What?”

“I want to know what you like. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow night. How’s that sound?” He was propositioning you, teasing you, and you were falling for it - hook, line and sinker. 

You gave him a nod. Right. Touching yourself for him - that was something you could do. This was just another Wednesday for you, you loved putting on a show, especially for a man who was rock hard and obviously desperate for you. But with Chan… why did you feel so fucking nervous all of a sudden? You'd spent your whole day waiting to fuck him, and he’d taken back the power, thrown a wrench into your plans.

You leaned back on your bed. How did you sit sexily? You were stuck in your own head.

Chan moved backwards, hand moving over his clothed erection. He’d spread his legs, thick thighs parted for you to see the promising bulge between them. "Pretend I'm not even here, sweetheart," he said, eyes blown wide with lust. You almost rolled your eyes. Easier said than done, when he was sitting there with his dark curls and his thick, kissable lips and his impossibly huge bulge. “Touch yourself like you’ve done before. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow, I promise.”

Fuck it. You'd never let an attractive man break you down yet, and that wasn't going to change. You nodded timidly, hands moving to grip your breasts through your shirt. It made you sigh, and Chan responded with a noise of his own when you impatiently rucked the fabric up to above your chest. Sucking two fingers into your mouth, you whined when you traced the wet digits around your pebbled peak teasingly. 

“Ah, ‘s- I’m sensitive there, Channie,” You mumbled, and he nodded as if he was making a note for it for later. You trailed your fingertips across your nipples, pinching and twisting them almost painfully just to make your hips cant up into thin air. You were too impatient to do this how you normally would, so you scratched your fingernails down your tummy and shoved a hand in your pyjama bottoms. You were met with slick, wet folds, fingers sliding around in the mess you made. 

“Show me,” Chan said, eyes trained on where your hand disappeared beneath the fabric. “Show me that pussy. You’re meant to be showing me everything, remember?”

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” You huffed, and Chan shook his head in disbelief, grinning. You were shocked to see he actually listened, though, pushing his joggers down to his thighs and letting his erection spring out. It was impossibly hard, pearlescent drops accumulating on his cockhead and you licked your lips subconsciously. “I wanna-”

“No,” Chan cut you off, hand moving to wrap around his cock in a tight fist. He was long, thick and heavy between his thighs and you felt your pussy clench sadly around nothing. “Show me your pussy. I’m not asking again, let me take a look at it.”

You whined, pushing your pyjama bottoms down to reveal your slick core. Your clit was swollen, throbbing with need just from a few kisses and Chan’s general presence, and you could feel a rivulet of wetness sliding down between your lips. Chan groaned in approval, hand quickening on his cock just slightly.

“Spread it, show me your hole,” Chan said, and you moved your thighs further apart for him. Reaching down with two fingers, you moved them into a v-shape and spread your folds for him. Your hole quivered under the inspection, leaking more wetness and Chan’s eyes were hyper fixated on it. “Oh, baby. That looks tight. Has no one ever fucked that little pussy right, huh? Tell me.”

“N-No,” You shook your head, thighs quivering when you finally let two fingers rub over your clit. You started with a blistering pace immediately, making your toes curl into the sheets and your back arch upwards. “No, I- it’s only boys from college, I don’t-”

“Ah, I see. You need someone older, yeah? More experienced?” Chan questioned, his breath coming out heavy with every tightly fisted movement on his cock. You whined, nodding, and then you were breaching your hole with two fingers immediately. The stretch made you groan, head falling back against the pillow. “Is that why you tried to seduce me, yeah? Wanted to have my cock stretching you out just right, wanted to call me daddy while I made you cry?”

God, he’d got it. He was right on the mark. “Yes, y-yes, I- I wanted to, oh, I wanted to call you daddy, and- and feel you inside me, and oh, Channie, please-” You cut yourself off with a moan, perhaps too loud as you curled your fingertips up against your g-spot. Chan threw his head back, letting out a grunt as he pinched his cockhead almost painfully. 

“Say it then, baby. What’s stopping you?” He polished the head of his cock, moaning before he took it into his tight grip again. His precum served as lubrication, his hand now making wet slick sounds on his thick length. You gasped when he moved his free hand to his balls, rubbing calloused fingertips over them and letting out his own gasp. “Beg me for my cock. I know you want it, look at you. Fuckin’ desperate, yeah? Beg daddy for his big cock.”

“Oh, daddy,” You whined, moving your free hand to rub over your clit. Everything was so wet, sliding around your pussy and you were honestly surprised you could feel anything - but it felt so fucking good, having him watch you like this, learning what you liked so he could replicate it. “Fuckin’- daddy, daddy, please, can I have it? Been good, doin’ what you asked, I- hnnng, daddy, oh my god-”

“No,” He smiled, a cocky grin while he rubbed one hand over his cock and the other over his heavy balls. “No, baby. Not tonight. Make yourself cum tonight, and daddy will help you tomorrow.”

“I- need more, need more, I-'' Chan surged over the bed, leaning over your figure to press his lips against yours. His tongue dominated your mouth again, and you could feel his closed fist hitting your stomach as he worked himself to his orgasm. The sensation had you whining against his plush lips, fingers thrusting quicker into your pussy and your other hand sliding around your clit messily. When he pulled away, lips digging into your bottom lip teasingly, his lips were quick to move to your neck to suck some dark purple marks into the skin. You felt yourself trembling, your body tense as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your fingers stroked your walls faster, pussy fluttering around your digits in delight, and your mouth opened in a gasp as you felt your body tense and tremble with pleasure. “I’m g’na- g’na cum, gonna cum, please, can I? Can I, daddy? Can I cum for you, please?”

“Yeah, baby,” He huffed, eyes rolling back into his head. He was practically drooling onto your skin, lips parted against your neck as you whined and thrashed on your bedsheets. “Cum for me. Been good for daddy, haven’t you? You can cum, baby, c’mon. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.”

You fell apart around your own fingers, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your thighs tensed with your orgasm, your pussy clenching down impossibly tighter around your hand and flooding down to your knuckles with your cum. You begged and pleaded, your voice a barely audible babble as your body shook with the sensation. 

Finally, when you’d just felt like you were coming down, Chan pulled your wrist away from your pussy. The movement left you empty, your walls still clenching down except now it was around nothing, and you whined, bottom lip quivering in need. 

“Hands off,” He sighed, hand slowing down on his cock. He was trying to last longer for something - you weren’t sure what, but you let your other hand drop from your clit obediently. “Daddy’s gonna cum on this wet little hole, baby, okay? You gonna let me cum here, mark you as mine?”

“Yes,” You moaned, nodding. You couldn’t think of anything better, actually. “‘M yours, I’m yours, daddy, gimme.”

“Dirty thing, perfect little girl,” He grunted, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your hole. With a few more movements, increasing in speed, you watched as his face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt his cum drip down your hole as he groaned through his orgasm, thick white cum plastering your pussy. It was definitely the sexiest thing you’d experienced, but you still felt a little disappointed - why couldn’t he have just done it inside you?

“Wan’it,” You whined, pulling your legs back. Chan chuckled upon seeing the pout on your lips. “Why couldn’t you- in me, wanted it in me, daddy.” 

“Greedy bitch,” He mused, and then he was delving down to your core. Your mind went blank when his tongue licked fat stripes up your folds, collecting all of his cum and your wetness in his mouth. You briefly thought you could cum from this, very quickly judging by the way he knew what he was doing, but he simply leaned over you and grabbed your jaw. 

Oh. You let your lips part, tongue lolling out of your mouth obediently, and he spat the mixture of your cum into your mouth. You felt him lick into your mouth again, groaning at the taste of your pussy and his load. He smiled against your lips and pulled away, your eyes wide as you tried to process what had just happened. 

Chan’s lips curved in satisfaction at your state, your chest still heaving with a blotchy rash that bore the truth of what you’d been up to. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and then he was standing up and leaving the room, bottoms barely pulled over his hips. You laid there, feeling an intense mix of pleasure and confusion.

What the fuck just happened?

THURSDAY

You hadn’t even processed what had happened last night. In all honesty, you’d run out of the house in the morning under the premise of a coffee date with friends you didn’t even have. You just sat in the cafe on call with Changbin and Felix and screamed way too loudly for a public area. The whole cafe knew of your predicament by the end of it.

Upon your return home, you’d beelined to your room and kicked the door shut as quietly as you could. Unfortunately, your foot slipped on the floor and you’d ended up face down with a groan.

Turning over onto your back, you huffed at the offending item that had caused your decline to the ground. A piece of paper met your eyes, neatly folded and written on with what looked like black Sharpie when you’d finally unravelled it.

Three words. Three words that changed your life and let you know that what occurred the night before had really happened. No, not ‘I love you’ - it was simple, a scrawled ‘your room, tonight’. It did happen. You touched yourself in front of Chan, and he was planning on coming back to your room to continue what you’d discussed.

You wanted to squeal and kick your feet, but beneath it all, you felt panicked. This plan had gone too far, and you’d perhaps started to think about spending time with your mother’s boyfriend - actual time, not just sexually charged meetings. It hurt a little bit, a pang in your chest when you remembered that what was happening really was just sexual. Your little arrangement being anything else just wasn’t fathomable.

Chan was interesting. He was a fucking music producer, for god’s sake. That was just straight up cool. That, and he was older than you - you did have raging daddy issues like your friends had said, after all. His friend had sounded funny on the phone, which meant he had to be funny, too. 

All things serious, you didn’t really know much about him, but you wanted to know. Felix had encouraged you to find out, and you felt like you owed it to him - or yourself, you weren’t sure. 

The knock on your door once the evening fell brought you out of your reverie. Chan didn’t wait for a response, swinging your bedroom door open and walking straight in as if he owned the house. You huffed at his demeanour, yet your eyes were still fixated on the way he walked over to your bed with intent. You threw your phone to the side. Felix would have to wait for your half-typed text message. 

“Back again so soon?” You quipped, and he raised an eyebrow. He was only in grey joggers, the thin material highlighting his thick dick imprint between his legs. The fabric hung low, showing off the body that you knew he worked so hard for. His chest was honey toned, yet covered in light, sparse freckles - you wanted to make yourself acquainted with every single one. You felt a little overdressed in just an oversized t-shirt and shorts.

Seeing the frustrated expression on your face, Chan’s own face fell. “Do you not want me here?” He said, voice no more than a whisper. “I can go, if you don’t want to see me tonight. I just thought-”

“I do,” You nodded, finally raising yourself from your position lying down to sitting up cross legged. Chan laid on the bed in front of you, one arm propping his head up. He gazed at you for a few moments, and you could see the relief in his eyes at your words. “I do want to see you tonight. I want to see you like… a lot. Don’t you think it’s weird though? I’m your girlfriend’s daughter, Chan, and we’ve kissed and- and done other stuff, and-”

He scooted over so that he was next to you, and you leaned into him subconsciously. He pulled you in with his arm around your shoulders, broad and muscled. You felt content, comfortable and most of all safe. It was a feeling you’d never felt before.

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Chan hummed, his chest vibrating beneath where you’d landed when he pulled you in. He chuckled, then, his hand moving to your hair comfortingly. “Okay, maybe it is a little weird. I’m just very interested in you. I know you heard me on the phone to Minho, and yes, you are my type - I want to know more about you. Like, even beneath the sexually charged tension, heh.”

Oh. You licked your lips, eyes fixated on a random spot in your wall. “You do?”

He nodded. “I do.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You raised your head, surging over Chan’s body to press a kiss to his lips. His hair was soft when you ran your hands through it, despite random curls getting caught in your nails and causing him to groan at the pain flooding through his scalp. His hands went to your waist, licking into your mouth while he effortlessly pulled you on top of him. The show of strength had you whimpering into the kiss, hands moving down to his jaw. It clenched and unclenched while he had full control over your mouth despite you being on top. 

You pulled away with a wet sigh, moving downwards to kiss at his neck. He groaned underneath his breath at the sensation of your lips on his skin. Your bed squeaked awkwardly as you moved down it, too quick for the old springs to handle. It felt naughty, kissing him like this in your childhood room - it felt even dirtier than the night before had, and you hadn’t done anything yet.

“I need you, Chan,” You whispered, nipping at his collarbone. “Need you. Please.” 

He gasped as he felt your tongue trace the outline of his collarbone. He flung one bicep over his dark eyes with a deep sigh, allowing you to kiss and bite all over his skin. He looked like he was trying to control himself. You didn’t want him to.

Your hips started to grind against him, and you placed your palms flat on his chest. Both of Chan’s hands moved back to your hips with a surprised noise, but he didn’t stop you. His dick was hardening in his joggers, and it was providing the best clothed friction to your aching, needy clit below your pyjama shorts. You saw how big it was before, yet the length of it still shocked you when you slid your clothed core up and down the shaft.

“Daddy,” You whined, hips starting to buck frantically. You were sure that you had never felt this needy in your life. “Daddy, daddy, I want you so bad. You turn me on so bad, make me feel so hot, please-”

“Baby,” Chan groaned, his head falling back against your pillows. The soft pink bed sheets juxtaposed completely with what you were doing, and juxtaposed completely with him - Chan, the muscled man with dark hair who wore black and grey clothes constantly. It was as if he was corrupting you, and he was in a sense, being so much older. “Baby, c’mere, come and lay on the bed. Let daddy eat you out, yeah?”

“No,” You shook your head, hips still moving on his erection. Chan’s chest had started to accumulate a thin layer of dewy sweat, slick on his skin and making you want to lick it off. “I want your cock. I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, please, just put it in, I’m wet enough, I promise.”

He knew you were babbling, incoherent in your haze of lust, but he still entertained you enough anyway. You spread your legs wider when his hand met your thigh, and then he was pushing two fingers beneath your shorts. He was met with your slick folds, and you gasped at feeling the touch of his fingertips, calloused from years of working with music.

“Oh, fucking hell. Dirty girl, dirty fuckin’ girl,” Chan moaned, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. “This pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. All we did was kiss. Are you that much of a slut for me? Are you that much of a slut for your mother’s boyfriend? That’s filthy.”

“Yes!” You wailed, nodding. You reached down, canting your hips backwards a little bit so you could spread your thighs wider before hooking your fingers in your shorts and pulling them to the side. The movement revealed your pussy, clit swollen at the top of soaking wet folds, covering your drippy hole. “I wan’it so bad, so bad, so bad, please, please. Just push it in, make it hurt, I don’t care-”

Chan shoved the fingers of his spare hand between your parted lips, effectively shutting you up. “Shut up. You’ve got to prove to me you deserve it, baby.”

With those words, he was pushing a finger past your entrance. It breached your hole easily, the digit sliding through your wetness and curving up past your g-spot. Chan shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and shock, and then he was pulling his finger out. With a quick movement, he’d yanked his joggers down and let his cock spring out. The coarse hair was trimmed above his long, thick shaft and you couldn’t help but imagine the type of friction that would give your clit - you couldn’t wait.

“You were right. That slutty pussy is wet enough,” He mused, pulling your hips over his bare cock. Your pyjama shorts were slightly in the way, and you pulled them aside even more, letting your folds leave wetness over his shaft. “Lower yourself on it. Stretch yourself out. Slowly.”

You did as he asked, lowering your body onto his length. You felt the stretch immediately. You moaned, loud and ringing off of your walls. You didn’t give a shit if your mother heard. Fuck, you needed this. You wanted to bounce all over his cock until there was nothing left and your hole could do nothing but remember the tight fit. Trying to sit down quicker, Chan grabbed your hips, stopping you while only half his length was in you.

“You're gonna hurt yourself like that, sweetheart. That hole is so tight around me.”

“Please, daddy,” Your head fell into the nape of his neck. You wriggled yourself in his tight hold, trying to get more of his length in your pussy. He shook his head against you, chuckling.

“You want it? Fine, but don't fucking cry to me when it hurts,” Chan said, letting go of your ass. You realised he'd been holding you up, and within a millisecond you'd slammed down onto him. You wanted to scream, the stretch more than you could take. He laughed again, raising his eyebrows at you mockingly. “Too big?”

"N-No, perfect," You retorted. He moaned, spreading his legs and placing his feet flat on the mattress. More. More. Fucking more. You began to raise on him, expecting to ride that perfect cock, but he started to thrust up into you at an unrelenting place straight away, his balls slapping against your ass. You moaned incoherently, almost babbling, hands digging into his toned biceps. He leaned up to nip at your neck, and then he was pulling your t-shirt off of your body.

“No fucking bra?” Chan laughed in disbelief. His mouth went straight to your nipples, biting and sucking on the hard peaks. You jostled on his lap with his thrusts. You wanted to rub your clit, but you felt like he probably wouldn't let you. “Knew you were fucking filthy, sweetheart. You didn't even care about me going raw, did you? You want my load in that dirty hole. And now I find out these pretty tits were only one layer away from me…”

His voice trailed off. You whined, leaning down to try and kiss him again. He shoved his two fingers back in your mouth, making you suck on them. His bruising sucks caused your nipples to hurt, and you fucking loved it. You knew he was marking you up and you'd just have to deal with it.

You tried to start riding him. He didn't let you, manhandling you off of his cock.

“Daddy!” You whined in protest. Chan chuckled. He lifted you and manhandled you so your back was facing him on your bed, and you immediately repositioned yourself so you were face down, ass up. He reentered you in one swift thrust, causing you to jolt in surprise.

“Fucking tight pussy,” He groaned, thrusting into you with the same vigor as before. You almost screamed, but managed to just moan incoherently. The mattress creaked, the sound of old springs ringing around the room. “Fucking dirty hole. Listen to that, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet your cunt is for daddy's cock? For your mother’s boyfriend’s cock?”

You tried to stop whining and moaning to hear what he was pointing out to you, hearing wet slaps. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, fingernails digging into the mattress. You knew you were dripping for a fact now. You could hear it, you could hear everything, his balls slapping against your clit as well as the wet noise of his heavy cock reentering you. 

You threw your ass back against him, trying to get the tip to hit that special spot inside of you. 

“I think that asshole needs me too, sweetheart,” Chan laughed mirthlessly, his hands resting firmly on your ass, encouraging your bouncing. You moaned in response, clenching your pussy tight. He was going to ruin you for everyone. You'd have to just keep coming back for more. “You want daddy's finger in there? You want me to finger your asshole?”

Oh, yes. “Please, daddy, need to be full,” You said, wiggling your hips against him. You vaguely registered him reaching around you and making you suck on the fingers that had previously been in your mouth. He was going to fill both of your holes, and he moaned loudly at the sight of you sucking his fingers. There was no way that the whole house hadn’t heard you both by now. You hoped they were sleeping.

You sighed in ecstasy, feeling the fingers begin to move inside your ass. His thrusting was now hitting your g-spot in your pussy, given the added pressure from being full in both holes. You felt the orgasm finally begin to build. You liked the way he wasn't rushing you to cum, not like those younger college boys. He was taking care of you and just having good fucking sex. “Feels so fucking good, daddy. Feels so good.”

You were now semi-incoherent, your words all joining together in one long moan. Chan loved it, judging by his moans. His cock was pulsing inside you. You wondered if he was close. You wanted him to fill you up to the point where it was dripping out of you. 

He pulled out of you again, grabbing your leg with one strong hand and flipping you onto your back. You were out of breath from the exertion, despite him doing all the work, and he looked fully composed save for the thin sheen of sweat on his body.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked, looming above you. You squirmed feeling your sweaty back rubbing against the blanket uncomfortably, but you nodded anyway. You wanted to please him. He looked down at your writhing body, letting out another groan. “So fucking sexy. You don’t know how much you fucking killed me, teasing me like that. Touch that pussy for me again, show me.”

He started pumping his shaft quickly, still staring down at you. You reached down with one hand and immediately pressed two fingers against your entrance, collecting the slick gathering outside before diving straight in. You curled your fingers against that spot inside of you, whining out. It wasn't enough. Not after having that fat cock in you. He definitely had ruined you for everyone else, including yourself. Nothing was ever going to feel the same again. 

“Mmm. Looks so wet, sweetheart. Daddy wants a taste, is that okay?” Chan questioned, moving back onto his knees. You pulled your fingers out and tried not to cry at the loss.

“Please, daddy. Wanna cum in your mouth,” You slurred out, pushing his head towards you. He moaned into your pussy, taking his fat tongue and licking one wet stripe up your slit. He pulled your pussy back, exposing that throbbing clit to him, and placed one lick directly onto your button. "Fuck, daddy, feels so good! Suck it, please, suck it. I - please - need to cum so bad!"

“Need to cum, huh, sweetheart? I'll make your little pussy throb for me and then I'm putting my cock right back in that tight hole, where it belongs,” He spoke. He thrust two fingers into your slit, much thicker and longer than yours. You spread your legs, holding them up against your chest. You literally almost purred when he started moving his fingers, curling them up into that spot and sucking on your clit whilst he did so. It wasn't going to take long. The man was clearly amazing at every part of sex. 

You focused on the feeling of his wet tongue rubbing up against your clit and writhed, feeling closer and closer to the edge. He knew what he was fucking doing. Your thighs started to shake, taking everything in you not to just let them go from your hold and clutch around Chan’s head. You wanted him to permanently live between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut, a deep sigh leaving you. 

“Fuck, I'm g’na cum,” You mumbled out, chest heaving and flushed a shade of crimson. Chan pulled away, causing you to whine. You pouted, reaching up to grab his shoulders. "No, no! You said I could. You said you would help me.”

“What I said was that I'd make it throb for you and then I'm sliding back right in here, sweetheart. Be good for daddy, you'll get to cum,” He positioned his length at your core again, sliding right back into home. You both moaned, and he was fucking you in a mating press this time, almost as if you were a couple in love. You wished you were, and realised this was definitely your favourite position so far. The man fucked like an animal and now he was fucking you like he was going to breed you, and you loved it. He reached down with one hand to rub your clit rapidly, trying to bring you to the edge. “This is my fucking pussy. My favourite fucking pussy, my only girl, the only pussy for me, okay?”

“Fuck!” You cried of overstimulation, hands still wrapped around your legs. “G’na... getting close again, gonna-”

“Cum then, sweetheart, flood my cock. Make a mess for me, come on, do it," Chris encouraged, breathing heavily next to your ear. His eyes were focused on where he was entering you over and over again, taking note of the white ring of slick that had formed around the base of his cock, soaking the hair that rested there. You scrunched your eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed with bliss. “That's it. That's my good girl.”

White hot ecstasy overtook your body. You wanted to squirm, but with the pressure of the muscular man on top of your body, you had nowhere to go. You focused on the feeling of his slick chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples, whining and moaning as the orgasm coursed through your body and made it feel like you were being electrocuted. 

“Fucking clenching on my cock, shit,” Chan groaned, his hand falling away from your clit once your breathing had began to calm slightly. His hands went down to grab your hips, and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips up and fucking you senseless, treating you like a toy. “W-Wanted to be soft with you for our first time, sweetheart. I'm not normally like this, not at all, but this fucking pussy is driving me insane, fuck... I need to fill you up. Will you let daddy fill that pussy with my cum, sweetheart? Let me breed you, make you mine?”

You nodded quickly, unable to speak at this point. Your hole felt raw, sensitive and fucked open, but you needed his cum in you. You thought you might die if you didn't get it soon. His tip jabbed into your g spot incessantly, almost causing you to cum again, but you subconsciously knew you couldn't take another orgasm at the same level as the previous one. You might die. 

“Fucking- g’na breed you, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine. G-Gonna give you a baby, g’na fill you up, fuck!”

With an animalistic growl, Chan’s head dropped to your neck, biting into the skin there and definitely leaving a mark. You felt his hips still and cum flooded out of the tip of his length, flooding your hole with a new sense of wetness. You sighed with content and laid there until Chan’s breathing calmed, his body weight fully on top of you and yet not uncomfortable. 

“I have to be honest about something,” Chan sighed. You looked up at him from your position on his chest, and he looked down at you with an apprehensive look. He looked a lot shyer than he did moments before, when he was fucking you senseless and calling you a slut - he was blushing now, embarrassed. You were sure that’s what you liked about him. “You’re- it’s like you were made for me. I don’t know what the fuck to do, heh. I’m falling for you, I think.”

You blinked, leaning up to rest inches away from his face. Got him. You’d got him. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. You’re closer to my age anyway, right?”

[ananxiousgenz]

TPP HADESTOWN AU PART 4

ANOTHA ONE. i am so sorry guys, but the muse has possessed me and i literally cannot stop writing. this is no longer a flash fic. i am now a slave to the au. this time will be a direct continuation of part 3 because honestly i wanted to keep writing that but i also just wanted to post it so consider this a kind of part 2 to part 3 if that makes sense

tpp mutuals come get your juice!!! @smidgen-of-hotboy @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @urjover @one-joe-spoopy @waters-and-the-wilde

when he said his name, juno heard it.

ringing in the background like the hum of a crystal wine glass.

the song.

when peter nureyev said his name, the song echoed with it.

"your name has the same melody," juno breathed, eye wide and searching for some kind of answers on the face of this strange, beautiful man. how could his name have the song of spring laced through it?

nureyev shot him a sideways look and took a sip of his drink. "so. what do you do for a living, lady who's going to marry me?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair and looking juno over with a gaze he could only describe as skeptical.

"oh! well, I work here at the bar with rita. she's over there. but you've met her already so I don't know why I'm introducing her."

rita gave a friendly wave from her perch behind the bar.

"I also, um. I, uh. I sing. sometimes. not all the time. i'm not bad at it. typically when I do sing, someone will give me a couple bucks. it's nice. oh, and uh, I can play guitar too, but I haven't done it in years, and to be honest, I don't really want to-"

nureyev cut juno off, looking away disinterestedly and downing the rest of his drink. "that's nice. so you're like all the other bar workers in existence. that doesn't exactly sound like something I'd want to marry."

suddenly, the butterflies that had been gradually building in juno's stomach began to unexpectedly drop dead.

"heyyyyyyy, that's not very nice, mista nureyev. mista steel isn't like all the otha ladies you eva met! he's a very supa awesome lady who I love workin' with and-oh oh oh! mista steel! you GOTTA tell him about that song you're workin' on! it's so pretty! and important! I'm sure mista nureyev would LOVE to hear about that!" rita cried, bounding off the bar and hustling over to deliver another drink to the table.

"oh, uh, yeah! I'm working on this song to bring spring back again," juno said, feeling mildly embarrassed that rita brought it up with this man who was still basically a total stranger. "it's not done, honestly, it needs a lot of work. but, when i'm finished with it, it will hopefully fix.....everything."

"wait just a moment." nureyev's brow furrowed and juno's stomach twisted at the sight. even when he was skeptical and defensive and bone-tired, he was still so damn attractive. gods, what juno wouldn't give to just kiss him right now- focus, steel, he's trying to talk to you-

"so you say this song will bring spring back again?"

"yup! at least it should."

"that's...." nureyev placed a finger over his lips in thought. "I haven't seen a proper spring in at least a decade, maybe more. the world has been so wrong in recent years... I shudder to think where it would all end up without the return of warmer weather."

"well, that's the idea with the song. I want to fix it. all of it. when the song is done it should put the world back on track. more sunshine, springs, falls, rain and flowers. you know. all the stuff that's just sort of been missing. maybe you could help me out with it!" juno grinned a bit sheepishly.

"and why would I want to help?" his eyes were cold, almost as cold as the biting wind and frost outside, but juno thought he saw the beginning of a thaw at the edges of his facade.

"because, mista nureyev. he's real good at makin' people feel like life is worth livin' again with that music of his. also, he makes the BEST chocolate cake i've eva had! and frannie agrees with me!" rita chimed in, cleaning the bar top as best she could with her short stature.

juno snorted involuntarily, marveling at rita's ability to constantly be focused on food. "it's true, I won a local competition a few years back for that cake."

nureyev's face had half a smile on it now, and the butterflies in juno's stomach turned into a hurricane.

"so you can make people feel alive again? that's quite a gift, juno. but what else can you offer me?"

"huh?"

"say, for example, if we were to get married. who would pay for the wedding rings? times have been hard, and gold is scarce. how would you do it?"

juno thought for a moment. "the rivers. they've got plenty of gold in them, and if my song works, they'll give it all to us for wedding rings."

nureyev's eyes glinted with something juno suspected was either curiosity or suspicion.

"what about a wedding feast? or a bed? good food and better beds are hard to come by these days. what would you do about that, juno?"

"the trees would take care of the wedding feast, and the birds would take care of the bed."

"with your song." nureyev cocked an eyebrow as though it was a question.

"well, yeah, of course."

"you talk a lot about that song. why don't you sing it for me?"

a wave of panic stuttered through juno's mind. "I can't. I told you it's not finished."

"you said you wanted to take me home and marry me, is that true?

a sly smile crossed nureyev's face, and goddammit it only made juno want him even more. "yes," he breathed.

"then sing the song for me, juno."

juno hesitated, then nodded in spite of himself. he shouldn't be doing this, he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't help it.

he was in love.

and lovers need the spring like a flower needs sunshine. so he'd sing the sunshine back for peter nureyev.

he stepped back, breathed in, and let the notes flow from him like water from a faucet. the song flooded the room, hitting the walls and rushing back to his ears in perfect harmonies, and for a moment, he was back in that wheat field with benten, strumming guitar as he danced like a pheonix rising from the ashes, spinning around and around and around like he was the center of the universe.

and then the song ended. and juno was back in a shitty roadside bar, holding a perfect dahlia in his left hand, with peter nureyev staring at him now, eyes wide and sparkling.

"that's...... you...... how did you do that?" nureyev asked quietly, standing from the table on unsteady legs and taking the dahlia to examine it with shaking hands.

"i didn't do that, the song did," juno muttered as nureyev gently touched the immaculate petals of the dahlia, still damp with dew. rita beamed at juno from the bar and gave an overenthusiastic thumbs-up. juno just rolled his eyes again.

peter nureyev looked at him then, all of the previous frostiness gone from his eyes and something like amazement and love and hope spilling through them.

juno decided that he liked it when he looked like that. it made him feel like he really could fix the whole damn world with that song of his.

nureyev seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and slipped the dahlia into the buttonhole of his traveling coat. "so, what time does your shift end, my dear juno?"

juno thought for a minute. "uhhhh, the bar closes around 10. why?"

his eyes gleamed like a pair of stars as a smile twinkled on his lips. "didn't you say you were going to marry me?"

[run2seob]

5 things you like about 5 of your moots?

turned from subtly fangirling to "i'm (not)subtly in love with u and your blog" but thank u for the ask bcs i have an excuse to >:)

@gyuletters

her ability to write a variety of genres without using cliches

her kindness ^^ she's always complimenting accounts and writng the best reblogs

her theme (it's soo pretty) and how well it represents her. star's personality is so sweet and i feel like her theme reflects that

she comes up with the best prompts too! like i'm envious of her brain

how comforting her fics are (and binge worthy~)

@junoswrlld

even before me and juno became close, they were so so kind to me T0T

her ability to pace herself and balance her fics and personal life (i genuinely could not do this like.. admirable, seriously)

her crack ficshehsh they're so good >< she makes chapters leave you with suspense every time

how many memes she finds. it's one of my fav things because how do i wake up to 40 cat and scrimbo memes 😭

how reliable she is!! i can trust her with my fics and spoilers and it's so nice :> she gives motivation and gained my trust so easily :')

@mazeinthemoon

i can't believe i only have to do five?? i need more space to write about how moon writes. the way emotion is captured into her writing is filled with suspense but also comfort? like, in between dialogue, there's those quotes that you replay in your mind over and over again because how could someone think of that?

^^ adding onto this, the way she incorporates figurative language into her text perfectly captures the moment. it's not blatant and keeps the sentence flow which is impressive. as a writer i respect moon even more because even i struggle with that T0T

i've said this for everyone but can you blame me? they're all kind, moon included! she's always answering asks in the kindest way

^^ additionally, the way she types is so cute. and by this i mean kaomojis and emoticons. i love emoji faces so much hehe

best for last ofc~ her fics in general! glitter and the goalie both had me hooked. like essay long notes and annotations. i might reread glitter because of how on the edge it had me and bcs of her recent post.. detective reader activated >:)

@hueningsloverr

RHIA'S ANGST. that's shakespeare's child now, seriously. the way she writes angst is beautiful.. but like beautiful in a way where it feels like a pretty statue of a little girl crying but it's beautiful. beautiful in the way where it hurts but is pretty... makes you cry tears bcs of how well it was written yk?

the way she views things is soo beautiful. like in her reblogs and how she views songs. (could write an essay) when she wrote txt x time in a bottle it fit with the boys perfect and was just so pretty. there's so many quotes i remmeber and trust i'm not forgetting

i'm gonna make these shorter but how many ideas she comes up with. i could never T0T

her themeee

i wished i talk to her more!! i'm always scared to talk to my moots but i love her pseonality i would be so happy to talk to her more but i'm too scared

@huenation

themethemetheme it's so cute

idk if this counts but i was reading their bf beomgyu texts and was listening to hea and read the "oh my god" as the same time as the song said it and can't forget about that 😭

ugh my top 5 comfort fic being soobin meeting yns parents like.. i love this fic so much and ik this isn't recs but they write so well 😭 the moment is always described in the best ways and i can visualize them so well

i don't talk to amor much but i love their posts/txt reblogs ><

and that i wish them happiness. i know a lot of people's posts and writings reflect their emotions, and i just hope they're doing well. everyone has bad times, but it really depends what mindset you approach them with, you know? i just hope they get to smile :)

[teecupangel]

Opinion/headcannon for Clay/Desmond or Protocreed?

As someone who ships Desmond with anyone, I approve of both of these.

Have some headcanons/opinions, nonny!

Clay/Desmond:

They would understand one another the most in the modern day because they are both Animus Subjects who get fucked by Juno in one way or another

They both see each other as broken but they don’t think they can ‘fix’ them. Instead, they believe they can be there for each other and they’re hoping that would be enough. (That, in turn, is what helps them get through the bad days)

Clay can’t help but be jealous of Desmond because of how easy it is for him to synch with his Bleeds and have a more symbiotic relationship with them

In a full-on Modern AU, they’re likely to be a ‘friends-to-lovers’ sort of couple or what started out as friends with benefits kind of deal.

If Desmond is the one time-traveling, saving Clay would be on his ‘to do’ list and their relationship will deepen over the course of Clay helping this mysterious person who seemed to know more than he’s telling and is really bad at asking for help

If Clay is the one time-traveling, Clay’s main point is to fuck with Juno and the Isu’s plans (and also make Abstergo pay). Desmond is meant to be a means to an end or, at the very least, that’s what Clay would tell himself but that’s not really true.

Clay is definitely the type to go ‘fuck the world’ if it means saving Desmond.

If they did have a relationship during AC Revelations, it would be something fast and passionate, more of a moment of passion brought by loneliness and fear over what would happen if the Synch Nexus didn’t work. Any romantic overtures will be minimal and it’ll be more of a playful friends-with-benefits kind of deal. Although, Desmond would never forget the moments he shared with Clay and any attempts to revive/bring back Clay in this scenario would have a longing that Desmond is unfamiliar with.

ProtoCreed (Alex/Desmond):

(while I’m not sure if it will be Alex/Desmond, here’s a fic idea of mine about a ProtoCreed)

In a world where both Prototype and Assassin’s Creed coexist in harmony in terms of lore and storyline, the OG Alex Mercer will have definitely met Desmond Miles before.

If Bad Weather is a nightclub, it was a one-time deal where Alex just accompanied some officemates when he was just starting out at Gentek to the club because they insisted. If Bad Weather is an upscale bar, he’s one of the regulars who order once and just nurses it for the rest of his stay there. Either way, OG Alex doesn’t even remember Desmond.

When the shit in Manhattan goes down, Alex is attracted to Desmond because of his genes. The abnormally concentrated Isu genes are making the Zeus virus go “Hhmmm. Information? Mutation? Go check???”

Desmond sees Alex shapeshifting and his first thoughts are “… I wanna say Abstergo experimenting with POE gone wrong… let’s see what happens if I touch it?”

They’re two dumbasses who know the other person is dangerous but there’s… a sexual tension to all their interactions.

They’re also reluctant allies who share information and help each other out because they have similar goals (Alex: find out the truth, Desmond: see if Gentek has any POEs or any dealings with Abstergo)

Desmond wouldn’t care about Alex’s true identity. He wouldn’t even care about who the real Alex Mercer is. To him, Alex is just Alex. So he’s an actual virus, he’s the goddamn chosen one of an advanced civilization that got wiped out by the freaking sun. They all have their issues.

Alex is protective of Desmond even if he knows that Desmond can take care of himself. He will level an entire military base if he even smells Desmond’s blood in the air. (even if Desmond is a dumbass who just got a papercut checking the documents while he was 100% sneaking inside)

Desmond, on the other hand, believes Alex can take anything. He’ll worry like hell but, at the same time, he knows that Alex will always come back to him.

This is one couple that an ending of ‘to be completely and wholly one’ is certainly not out of the table but a lot of shit has to happen to get that dark.

Tentacle sex. Tentacle sex. Tentacle sex. Bitey bitey tentacle sex.

These two are kinky and they make use of Alex’s shapeshifting ability to do weird sex stuff.

[PROTOTYPE]2 does not exist. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Alex Mercer’s story ended with one game.

[juno-box]

BTSing my Fic w/Juno: DoTWD - Rachel

I picked Halloween because I used to love Halloween as a kid, so I made it her birthday a few years ago.

To celebrate, here's some hilarious "B.T.Sing My Fic" for Rachel!

Rachel has had well over 10 models, plus numerous redesigns over the past year!

As I practiced and what have you, Rachel's model has changed... extremely over the span of this fic?

Since about 2014-2013, Rachel originally had pigtails. I don't know why, I liked doing my hair like that when I was younger so I passed it down to a plethora of my OCs growing up, Ray's no exception.

Here's EVERY Rachel model from start to finish, including the tests, get ready to laugh:

BOO!

Scared you bad, huh? Yeah they went from bad to decent to scrapped somewhere from Jan. to around August. Those pigtails fought DEMONS to stay in the final design just to lose lmao.

Here's where I started getting closer:

I still was bouncing between a tomboy look or not. Keep in mind, Ray's canon appearance is veryyyy close to how she was originally conceptualized in my mind space lol, save for the pigtails and the boots oddly enough, she actually just had flats.

Her favorite color was going to be red as a joke

There was a scrapped joke somewhere where Lee got her a yellow sweater between EP.1 & 2 which Rachel would go:

R: "Oh, yellow?" L: "It matches your rabbit." R: "Yeah, I know. My favorite color's red, though." L: "Red?" R: "Yeah! Red like my boots!"

Look, it was a reference to something my sister joked about as a kid lol, her favorite color was green but all she ever wore was pink. Get it?

Okay so, years ago, Rachel's end-game would been with Duck

Listen, this was 2015, I would've been at most 12. Don't believe me here's a screenshot from my old FF.Net page lmfao:

OG Clucks where y'all at lol-

Rachel used to be immune to walker bites... Yeah.

So she was going to have a whole Deus Ex Machina and be immune to the infection ala Ellie TLOU style. Look, you can GUESS why I eventually tossed that idea, okay, I was like 10-11 when I came up with it. (〜￣▽￣)〜

Rachel AND her brother were... were magic... people... from... a different... world—

Okay, OKAY SHUT UP. I was 11ish.

Harry Potter was the shit.

Percy Jackson was everywhere, we ALL loved Supernatural!

I was a HUGE nerd of Skyrim and--

QUIT BOOING ME （；´д｀）ゞ

At least y'all didn't read the fic when it was up on Wattpad years ago🙃

[jacksgreysays]

Assassin's Creed x Dreaming of Sunshine brainstorm/fake fic summaries/spring cleaning (2023-03-18)

Back when I was in the throes of my Could/Should/Actually phase, I was also reading a lot of esama’s Assassin’s Creed fic and my brain, as per usual, went: but what if DoS? And so it started churning different types of crossovers which I lightly noted down but never pursued. I then ran into chamiryokuroi’s art, specifically that of Desmond’s son Elijah, who kind of has the memories/personality of an Isu in him. THEN those earlier notes that were percolating in my head then scrambled a bit because instead of separate AUs, my brain just smooshed them all together and then also brought up the critical point that was stopping me earlier:

In an Assassin’s Creed AU/crossover, the nearest equivalent to Desmond—genetically crafted by the Isu (who humans know as gods, aka Minerva, Juno, etc) in order to be at the right place at the right time—isn’t Shikako or even Naruto, but Sasuke. Especially going with wafflelate’s idea that the different Mangekyo Sharingan powers (also named after gods!) are indicative of different Uchiha lineages with a slight extrapolation that multiple lineages merging earlier on is why Sasuke (and Itachi) has so many different Sharingan powers. Oh, also, Desmond has something called the Eagle Eye which basically gives him psychic powers like the Sharingan.

Although, speaking of Itachi. I guess what I should have said is that the nearest equivalent to Desmond is actually Itachi—the perfect son who has all the tools and all the abilities and all the expectations of the world—while Sasuke is the spare, aka Clay (who had some of the lineages that the bad guys wanted but not all of them and not as much). Although, you know, not as bleak a future… And that’s about as much as I know of Assassin’s Creed because like many things, I mostly know it through fanfiction, fanart, and watching my friend play ACIII nearly a decade ago.

Anyways, with that in mind. My brain continued that since I wanted both sets of characters to exist as opposed to shoving Team Seven into the AC plot, that I should figure out what Team Seven was doing while the AC plot is going on since, you know, the sun burning up the planet is a pretty big deal. So obviously the sun is a problem, but presumably Minerva via Desmond had that covered. Either they fail and everyone’s dead anyway, or they succeed but there’s other stuff that needs to be considered. Such as: THE MOOOOOOOOOOON. But in all seriousness, I don’t super know how it would work, but even if Minerva via Desmond protects the planet from the initial massive solar flare, wouldn’t there be lingering excess energy or a secondary blast/wave reflected off the moon? I don’t know enough about pseudo science to know if my pseudo science makes sense.

Regardless. Excess energy or secondary wave on the side of the planet that has the moon, aka, Japan in the middle of the night (since I think the solar flare happened in the morning in New York?) And it’s pretty thematic, for Naruto canon at least, that the moon is the problem (whether or not we want to bring up Kaguya’s alien nonsense… although that is a pretty good equivalent for Juno’s evil in the AC side)

Anyway, the reason why chamiryokuroi’s art reinitiated this brainstorm is that, hey, obviously I love when Shikako is an OP almost literal deus ex machina. And Elijah almost literally has a “god” in him. Which Shikako also has had, or maybe the reverse, what with Gelel. And then whatever her beef with Jashin is. So either the Isu that Shikako has is Gelel (which is much kinder and benign that who Elijah is stuck with) or it’s “Shikabane-hime” and the personality sort of… glitched so that instead of taking over the body, muahahaha, style it just grew up as a person as in DoS. Although I’m a little handwaving how AC Sages work since apparently that relies on lineages/genetics (even though it somehow skipped Desmond but Elijah is one?) So either Shikako is an “artificial” Sage via picking up the Gelel stone or she’s a “natural” Sage and Shikabane-hime is just a chill Isu instead of the other muahahahaha evil Isu.

Then, to make Naruto match, what if, instead of Pieces of Eden (alien technology that seems like magic) the Isu on this hemisphere went with the bijuu? Maybe they were originally created to absorb the excess solar energy but over the millennia developed sentience. Or maybe they always had sentience which is what caused the Sage of Six Paths to rebel against the other gods (and also the human slavery en masse might have contributed) and while the bijuu remember the early days humans with their ever short lives forgot and so the bijuu grew bitter and resentful etc. etc.

So that’s the world building.

The plot of this fic I’m probably not going to write is actually my way of combining the three different AUs I thought of for the Could/Should/Actually and incorporating it into the above world building:

Subject Seven, like many of Desmond’s predecessors, died before they could ever meet. Whatever she learned in the Animus she never told Vidic or, at least, it never made it onto any Abstergo files.

STAY CALM. DON’T REACT. Desmond can’t tell if this is a new twist to the Bleeding Effect or if he’s unlocked something else in his Eagle Vision, but now he’s reading the shadows on the walls and that can’t be normal.

“Juno, huh,” says the girl in green, the only spot of color in the vast expanse of The Grey. “I had Jashin.”

Obviously, the way to fix 1 is simply Shikako faked her death and escaped. Or even Abstergo’s internal communications between departments is garbage and the team that was working on Sages just up and yoinked her from the Animus project. And also, what’s kinda fun about this (in a horrifying people being experimented on against their will kind of way) is that in order for Shikako to be Subject Seven while Desmond is Subject Seventeen and not have her be so much older than him (or even so much older than what I'm used to seeing her as in DoS, although this coming from me who writes future fic, lol) that means she was very young when she was Subject Seven. So we could have canonically badass twelve-fourteen year old Shikako in this seemingly normal world and then she has a full decade of being badass in time to help with Desmond’s side.

Although, in order to best incorporate 2 and 3, what an author who is not me could imply is that she died for realsies and ended up in The Grey (which from my understanding is like the coding space behind the world where Calculations aka sealing is done and might also be the afterlife but perhaps is only the afterlife specifically for Juno who hid herself in technology so that she could pop out millennia after all the other Isu had died and fuck with humanity). And from the Grey she can manipulate shadows, as in 2, and also meet Desmond “in person” as in 3 when he dies after the planet saving thing he does in AC canon.

And then the fun reveal is that, hey, The Grey isn’t actually an afterlife. It’s a pocket dimension from where you can manipulate the real world through strength of will. I’m not dead and neither are you, also would you like to meet my friends I feel like they could probably help you deal with the fact that your entire existence was a manipulation by beings that died over 75000 years ago because they have similar experiences. Would I have more relevant/similar experiences having been an Animus subject and having been in The Grey? Maybe, but I also contain the personality/memories of an Isu and I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

Anyway, here’s also the following:

[Some kind of cool title playing off of Dreams and Sunshine that also applies to Assassin's Creed, maybe something like Of Disasters and Daydreams?]

Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted is one way to interpret the creed. A more accurate way would be to say Nothing is Immutable, Everything is Possible, but that’s just not as catchy. Or, the Isu had their Calculations, but Shikako has sealing and that’s way more fun.

[mushiewrites]

can I just be sappy for a moment about 2022? It was so shitty for a multitude of reasons but you guys made it better ):

firstly everyone that interacts with my posts, i love u and appreciate u so much ): if i didn’t have people interacting, i wouldn’t really have a reason to want to keep writing.

but there are some very cool and lovely people I want to fawn over and just say a few things about 🫠

thank u to:

@an-inkling-of for hyping up my writing and always encouraging me to be mean (hehehe 😈)

@elliot-tword for being one of the first people i remember being so kind and supportive when i first started out writing

@fluffy-fics for making LITERAL BEAUTIFUL ART FROM MY FICS / DRABBLES???????? still so honored tbh 🥺💕

@sleepy--anon + @azuregiggles + @starshinenova for providing the best hc’s i’ve ever seen and allowing me to run wild with them 👀

@amitlee for being my enemy, one of my favorite people to bully/be bullied by, and also one of the best people i’ve gotten to meet on this hell site 🔥

I have a million more people I could thank, so if you weren’t mentioned, just know I love u and appreciate you. I want to tag you all 🥺

I hope every has an incredible 2023, it’s gonna be great I can feel it ✨

(okay i’m putting the longer ones under here…..this is going to be SAPPY sappy - this is your warning)

@cayjno - my baby jworm ): i don’t even know what to write for you. i went from freaking out in the best way over your fics to getting to be so close with you and i am still confused as to how????? i have no idea why but i was so nervy to speak with you bc u were just so COOL to me and i was scawwed. i remember the night we had our first real conversation, i was just so hype that you were as cool as i thought, probably even more so. you are one of the most kindest and sweetest humans i’ve ever met. i am so so thankful to know you and get to be in your life. you make me feel so safe, you never ever throw judgement on me and i am so grateful for that. i don’t ever feel scared telling you things because i know you’re not going to look at me differently for it. you also don’t let me brain run with bad things - you normally tell me straight up how something is if i seem to be going a different direction than what actually is happening in situations where that might normally happen. you are just such a lovely support person. we are so comfortable with each other and i love doing stupid things with you. you are so extremely talented in so many ways (i will never have another wallpaper that isn’t a juno drawing ever again btw). u are absolutely adorable and i adore you and your art and your writing and just skdndjdndjsj i love you ): i can’t wait until we invent teleporting so i can hug you for a million years ): i love u so much mouse 💕

@covenofwives - I literally stayed hyperfixated on The Blame Game for m o n t h s. you are SO UNBELIEVABLY COOL. the first few times we spoke i was so hype because you were so kind! we’ve gotten to be such nice little fwens and i love that for us ): we have our own little bobbi duo! i love when we exchange art and wips, it makes me feel so nice that you allow me to see your creations before they’re finished. you are so insanely talented as well, i’m still so hype that you drew Big Challenges on the beach just enjoying his day. you and your feathers are the cutest things EVER, i can’t wait to keep our cute lil friendship growing! i love and appreciate u and ur kindness always 🥺💕

and last but definitely not least

@awkwardtickleetoo - my lil baby puppy knight. the other half of puppyduo. mr bones. i could list everything we’ve ever called each other here but it would need to be a whole new post tbh. i adore you. you already know this. i remember being nervy to speak to you too, but god am i glad we started bc here we are now, months later and clingy as heck. we are the cutest little besties and i wouldn’t trade our weird little freaky conversations for anything. thank you for always bouncing ideas around with me or reading things if i need to know if things sound okay. i love that we don’t gatekeep, and i love that we bully each other about the embarrassing things we share. i love that we’ve resorted to using mostly pet-names for each other, and i love the ones you give me (all of them are good but you know my favorites 🥺) i love that we don’t EVER judge each other and i don’t ever second guess it when i tell you things that fluster me. you’re always so kind (and mean) in the best way and you are just such a lovely person. you, just like everyone else on this list are so extremely talented. you know i binge your fics and fawn over the shit you say all the time. i am very clearly cal stan #1. i actually could keep going but this would end up being very long and repetitive, but it’s all true. love you, idiot. 💕

[basilone]

Would you ever... write the Form and Void 'verse for Darlene? Juno xx

Short answer: yes, I would. Longer-than-short answer: your ask sent me to actually write it. Because apparently this was begging to get out at some point, hence this reply being a lil late. 💚 (Can't thank you enough for letting me revisit this 'verse!) Y'all only need to know one thing about this to be able to read it: this is set in my AU in which some soldiers are chosen by specific gods and sometimes take pills to suppress their god's massive influence on the world. And if you're looking for more on Darlene, this very E-rated fic is probably the best intro you're gonna get.

thin ice

“The Black Swan says this is shit for morale.”

“Ain’t never heard Sobel say shit,” corrects McNally, glowering at Mann out of the corner of his eye. “You��re making that up as you go.”

“He was out there, wasn’t he, pontificating,” gestures Mann, hands fluttering over his pint so callously he almost knocks it over. “Telling Speirs here about some sorta club for officers, right, and casting one of his most swan-ish glowers at the rest of us?”

Ron Speirs heaves a sigh as the attention at the table turns to him. “Apparently officers should not mingle with the common soldier too much,” he says, voice almost airquoting the common soldier. “There was indeed a question of morale.”

“Hope you told him where he could shove it, sir.”

“I told him to worry a little more about Easy’s supply of suppressants”– which is a rightful concern, given its many god-chosen –“and a little less about what dogs of war do in their free time.”

“Bet he loved that, sir.”

“The LT dry-swallowed a suppressant for emphasis,” snorts Charlie Hammond. Even from beside him, it’s difficult to ignore his broad grin. “You should’ve seen Sobel’s fucking face, McNally. Like somebody just canceled spaghetti hour.”

“Don’t you fookin’ remind me of the spaghetti,” groans McNally, looking increasingly queasy at the mere thought of it. “Did he ever get written up for costing the Airborne suppressants, what with half of Easy puking their guts out after that?”

Ron shrugs. “Sink wasn’t pleased. They shoved Talbert into quarantine real fast.” He nods at a table in the far end corner of the room, where sergeant Talbert is trying his hardest to live up to his Love-chosen status. “And they had a real bad time getting the Trickster-chosen back under, apparently.”

“They don’t like to be under, do they?”

“Mann,” says Ron, eyeballing the too-quick way the reedy man downs his drink, “you will be under in the next hour if you keep pretending that’s water in your glass.” He shakes his head a little as Mann offers him a quick salute in reply. “I don’t think any of us like to be on the suppressants, no.” He certainly does not, but the alternative in his case might be a little too much for the Airborne to bear. “At least they’re skipping the cost of them on some soldiers with more, ah, tolerable gods than mine.”

“Tolerable like that, sir?” asks McNally, nodding at something taking place behind Ron that’s inviting a fair few shouts over the din.

“Travers is experiencing a new way of becoming airborne,” snorts Charlie beside him, craning his neck and practically leaning on Ron’s shoulder to be able to see better. “Fox Co is looking harrassed as all get-out, sir, it’s brilliant”– and of course Charlie would think so, given how often Fox has messed up orders in recent weeks –“look at him go!”

Fox Company’s Travers, really only memorable because his one eyebrow soaks up almost every scrap of space on his forehead, has indeed become airborne in a rather undignified manner. The rest of his men – whoever thought it was a good idea to give Travers men to lord his sergeantship over needs to be stripped of all company rights, in Ron’s opinion – seem to be arguing rather incessantly among themselves about the best way to drag their sergeant back down. Nobody seems to want to try taking on the very blonde, very unimpressed-looking woman who is currently glaring up at Travers as though he owes her either money or an apology.

Ron turns back to his drink. “Only a fool’s gonna mess with that.”

“I wouldn’t mind messin’ with that, sir,” grins McNally, eyes shining. “Heard that them air-chosen are a ride to bed.”

“Aren’t air-chosen a rarity, huh?” Mann’s shoving McNally’s beer toward Charlie like the lack of it is going to fix McNally’s death wish any. His finger wags in front of McNally’s face in clear warning. “You can’t keep up with that, brother.”

“She’s in a pilot’s jacket,” hums Charlie as he, too, turns back to the table. “Air-chosen ain’t so rare. Seen plenty of them with the bomber crews.”

“Since when have you seen those?”

“Relax, sir, I was on leave when I saw them. They’re big game. Lots of chatter with them, like with Easy too. Hard to tune that sorta thing out.”

Ron chances a glance sideways. There are moments, going as far back as the earliest days of training, when he’s convinced Charlie isn’t god-chosen only because he’s too stubborn to say yes to whichever god is offering. He’s heard Wisdom-chosen like Winters and Nixon refer to chatter, sure enough, and back home there was a Trickster-chosen who referred to their many impressions as such too. He can’t shake the thought that Charlie – dark-eyed, good-humored, secretive Charlie – might know a thing or two about it. Might be chosen by something, except Ron can’t identify which god has its eyes set on the kid.

There are days when it bothers him. He can identify most chosen, even though many of them are on suppressants like him. There’s something in their eyes, something in their countenance, that always trips up the game and reveals the cards. He’s seen it in Charlie, too, though it is usually so tied to tactics that it’s easy to chalk it up to the kid’s intelligence and nothing else.

“Well, would ya look at that,” sniggers McNally, then, and Ron looks up from his drink to see the man’s wide grin broaden even further. “She just rocketed that Travers fuck to the ceiling and back down again without so much as a gesture. I gotta get me one of those.”

“You’re not,” says Ron archly, glancing back at the air-chosen woman just to witness Travers flattened like a pancake, “stealing a pilot.” Not even one with that much sway to her, he almost says, seeing how she’s surrounded by a ragtag protective crowd immediately upon releasing a crumpled heap of Travers. “You’re welcome to pray to Air when we jump next, though, McNally, maybe that’ll…”

He pauses mid-speech. Doesn’t mean to. Doesn’t think he can form the rest of the sentence if he tried.

There’s a new woman at the heart of that pilot-filled crowd. A riot waiting to happen. He sees it spooling at her fingertips – the flicker of flames, dancing between long and slender fingers. Watches it spark at the ends of her red mane of hair until it looks like fire’s dancing between her curly locks. Observes it brightening her face, all grand smile and the flicker of amusement curling in her eyes, until he’s no longer sure why nobody’s answering that infectious grin of hers.

Fox Company bends away from her when the light catches her.

“– seen the like of this before!”

“What?” snaps Ron, louder than he means to.

“I said,” laughs Charlie, “I thought fire-chosen were all pent-up brews like Easy’s Joe Toye. Don’t think I’ve seen the like of this before. Have you, sir?”

Ron can only shake his head as he sees the air-chosen grasp the red-headed woman’s hand without even flinching at the fire. It earns the air-chosen a kiss to the cheek, so close to her mouth that it’s got some of the crowd around them hooting in warning, and one of the most dazzling smiles Ron’s ever seen.

“I heard they burn through their suppressants, yeah? Look at that,” muses Mann, “she’s practically glowing with power.”

“It’s not power,” says Ron, because he knows real power drapes itself around the body like a shroud. “It’s life itself. You can’t mimic that. Not even a Trickster could.” He’s seen them try, sometimes. Seen them fail, always. “That’s unique to them. To her.”

To this woman, fire-chosen in a way that sucks all air out of his lungs and leaves him feeling like he’s adrift in the desert. To her, casting a light of her own that almost dwarfs the lamplight in the whole pub. To this one, kissed by fire, so beloved by it that she could never belong to any other.

“I thought we weren’t stealin’ women, sir.”

Ron tears himself away from looking at her long enough to cast a rather unimpressed glare at McNally. “We’re not,” he repeats, even though there’s a heat unfurling in his belly that he fears might only answer to her now. “We are going to take whatever war gives us”– oh, how War will laugh at him once he’s off these damn suppressants and able to think clearly again –“and you are not going to give the Air Force reason to lodge a formal complaint against our conduct.”

“I won’t if you won’t.” McNally barely acknowledges Ron’s raised eyebrow. “Sir.”

“That one’s not Air Force, though,” comments Charlie.

“Kid”– heaves Mann, looking queasier by the minute –“you ain’t helping the LT get lucid.”

“Fresh air for him, bedtime for you,” decides Ron swiftly, nodding at Mann and Charlie, “and the next one to talk about stealing women is getting a liaison position with Easy.”

“Not with the Black Swan and his fookin’ spaghetti, sir…”

Ron feels rather light-headed as he chances a feral grin at McNally. Feels an answering flame flicker to life inside of him when a rather throaty, spitfire-in-the-belly laugh in the crowd behind him earns a crowd’s cry of “give it a rest, Darlene!” even as he pulls Charlie to his feet.

Darlene. He knows that’s her. Thinks he’d know her blind now that he’s seen her.

“How’s that liaison position lookin’, LT?”

“McNally. Thin ice.”

“Thin fookin’ ice, sir,” agrees his sergeant, clapping Ron’s shoulder and leading the way out of the pub. “Very thin indeed, with the likes of her around.”

Ron can’t very well argue with that.

[talietikasero]

This isn't finalized yet but here's an Aria design sheet and character portrait (with some artist notes)

[Link to the fic from the beginning]

So for this, it's the design I came up with for my ongoing story project. I had the idea that she'd base it on Sol's and gave her the Justice palette (blue, white, black.) The matching jacket is a given, and the numbers on her belt buckles hold significance. [T-01] is the alphanumeric designation, and [09|02] is what GGML listed as Justice's birthdate (September 2nd.) I wrote her to have a navigator theme, hence the bike goggles (they were turned into magi-tech.) As for the crescent moon necklace, it's a limiter Sol made for her (given in chapter 4) that matches her alias "Luna." I went with "Luna" over "Juno" for differential purposes, though I did keep the "she has the [Scales of Juno] in her body" thing. There's a few instances in the fic series where it's joked that if Aria did fully follow Frederick's alias, she'd be known as "Luna Badgirl"

On the right is a jacketless version to show off her shirt, and the blue crawling up her arms is part of her super form I thought of. It was going to be written as X2 Justice's Omega Shift, but I reworked it into a Dragon Install-like boost and gave it the name 《Bad Moon Rising.》 It's explained in the notes of the chapter it first appears in (rewrite chapter 9) during the fight [Aria (+ Sol and Jack-O) vs Asuka]

For a character portrait, there's a bit of context for it. Here's a wip shot:

In chapter 11 of the rewrite's intro, I gave her the ability to summon gigantic Justice arms a la Bayonetta and Madama Butterfly. This power is tied to her super form seen in the above and is heavily utilized in the final battle

(Psst. If you'd like to, I'd love to see another artist's take on my design)

[hyunsvngs]

https://www.tumblr.com/hyunsvngs/742656060956065792/anon-againnnn-thinking-abt-reader-and is it bad? IS IT BAD?! JUNo. this is so fucking hot. you're so good at writing daddy chan it's insane (honorable mention to the stepdad chan fic oh my fucking god that fic)

i audibly whined at the idea of the fucked out drooling on the pillow and he giggles at you? flipping you over when you got too loud? daddy's taking care it, don't even worry. just lay there and let him fuck you open

10/10

THIS IS THE EXACT VIBE I WANTED!! JUST UR DADDY TAKING CARE OF U BUT IT WAS HIS IDEA THE WHOLE TIME!! HES NAUGHTYYY!!!

no bc i havent got enojgh daddy kink on this blog to be honest considering i have a fat daddy/mommy kink. i’m a big ole bottom which would probably surprise all of u (apart from if i was with han jisung he would deserve to be topped and i would do so wholeheartedly)

NONETHELESS THANK U FOR ENJOYING IT

[grasslandgirl]

HELLO oh I am :eyes emoji: at every single thing on that list, your wips sound so. cool! absolutely dying to hear more about leverage ot3 amnesia ideas & juno steel and the case of the lost memories, whatever you are interesting in sharing <3

oh with JOY will i talk about these jade, with JOY!!

i'm gonna put this below a cut cause i'm gonna answer and give snips for both and it's gonna get LONG bc i Cannot Shut Up xox

for the leverage ot3 amnesia au i dont have a TON written, it was more just a collection of amnesia au ideas for all three of them that i was putting down so as not to forget them- i'm such a sucker for amnesia aus where the concrete memories are gone, but the sense memories and the gut instincts, and the muscle memory remains; and i think that trope carries over really interestingly to the leverage ot3-- parker who feels herself physically relaxed around these two strange men she doesn't know, eliot who instinctively lets these strangers touch him because some part inside of him he can't remember knows they won't hurt him, etc etc

i haven't written a ton of it, but i do have a dash of eliot pov i'll slide your way <33

Everything’s fuzzy. Eliot hates when things are fuzzy. He blinks against the crust in his eyes, but whatever room he’s in is clinically bright. His mouth is dry and his whole body is a single dull ache- heavy medication. Someone’s drugging him. In the back of his mind, Eliot’s furious about that; wants to rage until everything is burned out of his system and he can think clearly again, but he can’t remember why.  Why he’s- wherever he is. Why he hates mind-numbing medication so badly. Why he needs it in the first place.  The alarms in the back of his head are clanging- telling him, danger, threats, wake up, get up, fight your way out- but Eliot has to fight to open his eyes all the way.  He’s in a hospital. And- yeah, okay, that makes sense; even if it ignites the same anxious-angry pit in his stomach the meds do. Glaring halogen ceiling lights and clinical white walls and a softly beeping heart monitor and an IV plugged into his arm (he fights the urge to rip it out, if only for the moment) and- a man. Sitting in the chair next to him.

:)))) eliot pov my beloved....... i should write more leverage fic, huh?

and then SIMILARLY juno steel and the case of the missing memories is ALSO an amnesia au ksjvnskfjvnsfb

the concept was that at some point vaguely s3 on the carte blanche, juno gets a bad hit and loses all his memories of basically the plot of the show- so he can remember everything before the case of the murderous mask- but he doesn't remember anything with the kanagawas, or meeting nureyev, or the martian pill, or losing his eye, etc etc etc

so he wakes up on this ship- off mars for the first time in his life- still in a pre-s1 headspace, with only one eye and a bunch of people he doesn't know. and rita :)

tbh i only got like. a couple eps into s3 of junoverse and then never got caught back up (whoops) so like. idk what really happens during s3 and this fic was a big project in terms of like. going back to s1 juno characterization and foiling that against who s3 juno is and who s3 peter is, and how this kind of regression effects their relationship (or lack thereof, at the outset of the fic, bc they're not together yet) and while i did and do think it's really interesting, it was also like. a big thing to undertake and i got wary of like. characterizing juno effectively in it? and i wanted to slow roll him regaining his memories in bits and pieces and was having trouble pacing that effectively, and so it ended up on a back burner i never returned to </3 alas

but maybe someday when i finally go back and relisten to and catch up on tpp i'll go back and wirte more of it! in the mean time, have some snips:

He heard soft footsteps, almost silent, sliding across the hard floors of the ship behind him. Juno froze on instinct, senses sharpening to a knife’s point as he tried to focus on the steps over the blasting audio from Rita’s stream. If Rita noticed Juno stiffening, she didn’t say anything. Even though Rita had told him, again and again, that he could trust his fellow crew members aboard the Carte Blanche, that they were a family, Juno couldn’t shake the paranoia he’d known his whole life. He didn’t trust easy, he’d learned that the hard way over and over again as all the people he’d let into his life had betrayed or abandoned him. Except Rita. If he’d ever known how, Juno had long since forgotten how to be a part of a family, and this motley crew of criminals was no exception.  The footsteps neared, and Juno’s mind- as fuzzy and slow-moving as it still was, even three days after whatever accident he’d had- spun, trying to remember where the closest gun was, just in case. In his periphery, Juno saw the figure approaching. Tall, with taller hair and narrow shoulders- Ransom.  Some of the tension dropped from Juno’s shoulders. He still didn’t trust Ransom, there was something off about the guy, something about how he watched Juno and spoke so carefully around him that made Juno think he was hiding something. But there was something- a gut feeling Juno had about him. A deja vu kind of trust and comfort and uncertainty. Juno didn’t remember where it came from, but it was there. He trusted Ransom more than anyone else on the ship, other than Rita, even though that wasn’t saying much. Ransom came close enough to catch Juno’s eye. Raised his eyebrow in a silent question- the same one every person on the ship asked him every time they saw him: do you remember me yet? Juno shrugged, trying not to dislodge Rita too much. Ransom nodded, his expression never changing from the smooth, impassive mask he always wore. It itched at Juno, that impassivity. He wanted to know what was under it, wanted to know what Ransom was really thinking in that pretty head of his. The only people who were that careful and inscrutable were people with something to hide. Juno was a PI- he should know. As Ransom turned to walk away, Juno realized that the closest entrance to Ransom’s quarters was on his blind side. That he’d gone the long way around the ship to enter and exit within view of Juno’s periphery. Something uncertain and heavy and familiar squeezed in Juno’s stomach.

[i can't help another snippet, it's taking everythig i have not to give like three more on top of this, i forgot how good this au was skjfnvsfb sav from two years ago was crazy]

“Juno,” Ransom said, his voice infuriatingly even.  “Ransom-” that was the other thing. The other muscle-sense-memory bullshit that made Juno’s head ache. It felt- wrong, every time he called him Ransom. Every time Juno saw him, or thought about him or started to say his name, he had to correct himself, make himself say Ransom; instead of the other name he had rattling around in his head. He didn’t know where it came from, or why he associated it so strongly with Ransom, but Juno was ready to fucking know who Peter Nureyev was, and why he could’t stop thinking about him. Patience wasn’t ever a strong suit for Juno.  He bit the bullet. “Why do I have another name for you in my head, Ransom?” There. The flash of- of something, of emotion Juno had been waiting for. It was brief, something Juno might’ve missed if he hadn’t been looking so closely for any kind of reaction, but it was there. Shock, uncertainty, grief, flickered across Ransom’s face before settling back into his perpetual inscrutability.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Juno,” Ransom said, but there was a tremor, barely there, under his composed tone. Juno had shaken him, and he was going to get answers, damnit, come hell or high water. “Really?” Juno challenged, and he’d forgotten a lot, but he hadn’t forgotten this: the chase, the interrogation, cornering somebody into admitting and confessing and telling Juno what he wanted- what he needed- to hear. “Then who the hell is Peter Nureyev?” There it was again; the flickering, uncertain emotion, the disappearance of Ransom’s composure, the twist in Juno’s stomach that meant he was onto something.  “I- Juno, do you-” “No.” Ransom’s face fell, if infinitesimally. “I don’t- remember. Not really, but there’s… I don’t remember you, but I look at you and my brain says Nureyev, and I don’t fucking know why.”

:))) i just reread this whole wip- and it's almost 7k long- bc i didnt remember a lot of it and. oohohohoho. god. i was deranged.

thank you again for sending in this ask, jade!! sorry (not sorry) it got so long skjfvnksfjbn

send me the name of a wip off of this list and i'll reply with a snippet and/or my thoughts on it !!

[sky-fire-forever]

Fake fic title: Should I Ever Have to Ask

I answered this, but Tumblr decided to eat it 🫠

Anyway, it would be a Penumbra Podcast fic because it's the only thing I write for anymore. I've had system Nureyev on the mind lately, so that's the first thing I thought of

The idea is it would be from Juno's pov after learning that Nureyev is part of a system. And he can't tell who's fronting on instinct. He can't tell the difference between Ransom fronting and Nureyev fronting and acting like Ransom. He can't tell the difference between Rex and Duke. He doesn't know how to know who is fronting without asking

And this bothers him. He feels like it makes him a bad partner to have to ask. So he tries to learn how to tell the difference between them all.

But he's still not perfect and it upsets him.

Until Ransom has a conversation with him about how most of them have had to pretend to be different people basically their whole life. And that even if they hadn't, Juno shouldn't just expect to know the difference. He tells him that there's no shame in asking.

I just think it'd be sweet

[murkyspace]

alright I’m just gonna dump the general ideas and names for two of my  beetlejuice AUs, might do more detailed posts for each of them later, do more posts for some more of these, including some that aren’t super developed, whatever happens

“Burning Out”:

- Typical “Beetlejuice comes back” fic, takes place post-musical

- After some long, hard talks with the family through a mirror, Beej is eventually allowed to come back, but there’s something weird going on with his magic.

- For the first few weeks in the house, using too much juice will either exhaust him, physically hurt, or both. Even after that period, sometimes his magic will do weird things or react to his emotions without his input (literally shrinking when he feels guilty, creating a gateway into his dreams when he’s asleep, growing spikes when he’s not in the mood to be touched). Essentially, it’s if Beej took some levels of Wild Magic Sorcerer.

- Otherwise, it’s very slice-of-life, I don’t really have much of a plot thought out for this yet beyond the intro and a few neat ideas.

- It’s also a mild dumping ground for all the “Deetzes, Maitlands, and BJ all live in the same house” scene ideas and headcanons that I have

“Death Defiance”:

-Teen!Beej AU, inspired by moonbunnyblues’ Lawrence BJ Deetz AU and toonjuice sibling AU art

-Little bit closer to musical canon/fanon than those two, though, Beetlejuice has his curse invoked by Juno and kicked out of the Netherworld at age 14 for impersonating a guide to try and experience the living world firsthand.

-He’s stuck in a graveyard with none of his powers when he meets 11-year old Lydia. Unfortunately for him, her mama warned her about strangers offering to solve all her problems, so she doesn’t summon him. She does come over to the graveyard after school and they talk and mess around.

-Speaking of Lydia’s mom, Emily’s alive here! She’s weird and fun and spooky and passes all of it down to her kid.

-Lydia’s passion for the weird and macabre makes her normally ignored in public, but when the bullying gets bad, it gets BAD. A particularly awful episode is what convinces her to cross the “summon Beej” threshold.

-After that, there’s some fluff with Lydia and Beej being absolute menaces, some quiet emotional moments, an adoption (maybe), and the escapades of local amateur paranormal instigator Adam Maitland with his best friend Barbara.

-Not sure if I’m going to post it here for spoilers, but one part of this that I have planned has a major body horror trigger warning

-This one’s arguably the most developed idea so far, and I’m still nowhere close to getting the first chapter out.

[mercurygray]

“look at my fucking neck, how am i supposed to face my mother?” but make that 'FATHER' for your Laurel 😏🤪 Juno xx

It's only a little Not Safe For Work. But still. Hangman is just...like that.

(Laura Simpson is on loan from my fic One Minor Detail)

She'd known it was going to be bad, but she'd had no idea it would be like this.

Jake had been confined to quarters after his little stunt going after Rooster and Maverick, and Laura had to admit that there was something…just a little attractive about picking a moment to break rules when there wasn't anything in it for you, especially for him. And Jake deserved a little …positive reinforcement for that. Quietly, of course. Nothing really serious. Clothes to stay on, mostly.

Mostly.

Unfortunately, he'd gotten a little too excited about the prospect of her sitting straddled on his lap, and now - there was literally nothing quiet about this.

Laura looked in the tiny mirror over the sink and grimaced. “Look at my fucking neck! How am I supposed to face my father like this?”

Jake sat up a little in his bunk and grinned, still mostly clothed in that he still had his shorts on. "Well, you could always lie." Laura turned around to stare at him, daring to explain what he meant by it. "Rooster almost died yesterday. Maybe you took pity on him."

"…That's even worse." So not only are you going to get me in trouble, but you're going to get someone else to take the fall for it?

"Worse than letting the insubordinate one kiss you senseless, you mean?" He grinned. "You're probably right. No way he'd believe you picked Bradshaw's overgrown ass, anyway. You have taste. And no beard burn," he added, just to be annoying.

Well, two could play that game - just being annoying. She decided to go a little low. "I can't believe you'd really going to let someone else take credit for your work," she said, turning back to the mirror. "It's very unlike you."

He scoffed, and finally got out of bed, crossing the tiny room to come stand behind her at the mirror, wrapping his arms around her waist so his head could fit into the crook of her neck, chin just bumping the red mark on her neck. "Anyone can give a hickey, Honda. But getting you so weak in the knees you can't walk?" He paused, arms heavy around her waist, staring at her in the mirror with the devil in his eyes. She felt her pulse pick up. "That takes skill - and he's not getting credit for that."

"Have you done that recently?" She asked, lightly, knowing it was going to rile him up.

One hand dropped to cup her body, pulling her closer to him, his middle finger worryingly close to starting something. "Well, I would, if you'd come back to bed and stop worrying," he said quietly into her ear, beginning to rub his hand back and forth. "We've got all kinds of time before you've got to be on watch."

"How do I know you're not going to give me another hickey?" She asked, trying to maintain even a cursory mastery of the situation.

"Oh, you don't," he promised, with a smile she wanted to kill him for. "Maybe I'll just put the next one somewhere he can't see." It sounded like a promise, running his hand along the outside of her thigh, and she rolled her eyes and tried not to think about what exactly it was he meant.

[celiastjamesoscar]

Hi darling. It took me an hour and a lot of scrolling through ao3, but I found the Clexa fic! https://archiveofourown.org/works/10011560?view_full_work=true That's where I first came in contact with Poes work. I remember I liked it so much that I looked up more of his poems at this time. Fics really teach you much more than school and real life. Love it. Your brother has great taste! Juno is my secret favorite. Lol, yeah, the handcuff scene was brutal. I love Mike's work and how he can combine gruesome scenes with such a beautiful story and make it fit together so perfectly. He's a genius. Netflix or Amazon, it doesn't matter as long as he keeps up his great work!

Lol surprise adopt 😂 That's exactly what we will do. We will lure her in and set her up in a comfortable room until we cam force ourselves onto the set of Scream 7. We will offer her gym equipment to keep her muscles all big and strong. But I honestly don't fully believe that they would exclude Melissa and or Jenna. Jenna because, as bad as it sounds, is a money maker at the moment. People love her. And Melissa because they probably want to keep the Billy connection going and have a new final girl. If they'd cast whole new people it would mess up the storyline and franchise.

I also switch between cats and dogs constantly. Both are just so cute and cuddly. To me it's impossible to choose between them.

You are a saint for finding that fic, but you honestly didn’t have to. I still appreciate it so much <3 Clexa fics hit different during the colder months for me, and I have no idea why, so I will definitely give that one a read some time soon. Fanfic writers shaped my entire early teenage life, and they will forever have my heart for it. Juno is such a sweetheart and she deserves the word! I started to rewatch House of Usher with my mom! Mike can include just the right amount gore to gross you out, but not enough for you to turn it off. He’s one of the best horror producers out there. I agree; as long as Mike is still creating masterpieces, I don’t care where at, I will be watching!

I bet we wouldn’t even have to lure her, she would probably go willingly. Her dedication and love for Sam is one of the many things I love about her. And the gym equipment too 😭 that’s essential. I love Jenna to death, but I also agree that’s she a money maker for the franchise. Scream VI was the highest grossing installment since the first one back in ‘96. Melissa better stay on because she is the new fave of the franchise, and because I really love Sam’s character. I might be a bit biased, but her character is more rounded than Sydney’s, I still love Syd to death though. It’s going to be interesting to see how the filming of 7 is done, that’s for sure

They are both cuddly and cute, but only one of my cats will actually cuddle. The other one is Leo Usher’s black cat most of the time 😬

Completely off topic, but I get to go into the cadaver lab tomorrow and I’m so exited!!

[circlique]

have you made any headcanons or storylines for your ATLA ocs if they ventured into the Spirit World? I've always thought it would be cool if they came across spirits like Koh the Face Stealer. Or do you like to focus on their dynamics in pre-ATLA physical mortal realm?

Without getting too spoilery for the fic I’m writing (also reminder some of these OCs aren’t mine):

Since this is all pre-ATLA it’s gonna be the more otherworldly, morally neutral spirits like we see in ATLA. The spirit portals aren’t a open, but like in ATLA, there are cracks and places where the barrier is thin where things can slip between, especially on the solstices.

Funnily enough, one of the characters Flamer—his whole thing is that he’s been to the spirit world—except he’s a lot like Bumi II in LOK and exaggerates a lot and tells a lot of tall tales. So it’s entirely possible he’s met a spirit like Koh, but he’d be talking about a giant face-stealing centipede to the group and everyone’s just like “haha ok.” Like he’s just making shit up again.

For some other characters, Kelsang is super booksmart but struggles with just about everything else that airbenders are supposed to be, including airbending, pacifism, and spirituality. I think he has read a lot about spirits, but has never met one and is pretty sure every prayer he’s ever made to them has gone unanswered, so he’s a bit of a natural skeptic. Still, the concept fascinates him. He eventually does get to meet a spirit, but it goes…extremely poorly, and he pretty much decides messing with spirits is a bad idea after that.

Juno has also made a brief foray into the spirit world, but she’s been through so much shit she just isn’t phased by anything anymore. I feel like she only got to meet annoying spirits like that monkey guy though. She probably actually does believe a lot of the stuff Flamer goes on about and could see it being true, but kind of laughs it off like, “a fog that steals your mind and makes you go crazy? Actually, that would explain a few things about you. :)”