#the songs transition into one another smoothly

[hareofhrair]

Continually frustrated by my attempts to make a cohesive playlist for Shafan because I can’t settle on a single sound for them. You can’t just put Tom Petty, Glen Campbell, Modest Mouse, and Gotye on the same fuckin playlist it doesn’t WORK.

[mkscatgirl]

I could write a whole essay on bgs who moved from cute to "mature" concepts and how they did so

[risingoftime]

one night only

⤷ coriolanus snow x fem!reader: coriolanus’s classmates gets him a personal birthday present.

contains: 18+ MDNI, virginity loss, escort!reader, virgin!coriolanus, porn with plot, dub-con, smut, oral, p in v, sex work, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation.

word count — 2k

From above, you observed a line of women entering Pluribus's nightclub from the changerooms. Each woman seemed to cater to every man's fantasies, meticulously groomed and prepared for what the night might bring. As your turn to go on stage approached, the music transformed into a slow and seductive rhythm, signalling your cue. Taking one final swig of the strong white liquor, you felt a burning sensation as it went down your throat, causing your eyes to water. The spotlight illuminated the top of the staircase. It was now or never.

Your sheer daisy blue robe hinted at the white lace lingerie hidden underneath; almost everyone’s eyes were on you. Almost. A single gentleman by the bar with his friends kept his eyes on the stirring glass of moonshine that he held in his hand. He masked his face as bored and indifferent, but his body language communicated a different story, tight and wound up as if he’d be ready to bolt at any moment. It was evident that his friends dragged him here. He stood out like a sore thumb with his buzzcut light blonde hair and tall, broad physique. The lighting was low, but you knew who he was instantly: Coriolanus Snow, the first student-mentor from the Academy. He’d helped that girl from District 12. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys, especially ones with deep pockets that would pay a hefty price for just one night.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we would like to introduce our one and only Capitol Gem.” It took everything within you not to roll your eyes at the nickname Pluribus had come up with as you descended the steps. Hoots and whistles erupted from the crowd as your hips swayed with each move, flowing through different positions to accentuate your flexibility. In a passive motion, you unwrapped your robe with a coy smile on your lips, entirely in character now. Gone was the girl from District 11. The song's base bounced off the wall, creating a numbing hum in your chest and ears. Combined with the liquor, it was easy to ignore the lust-filled stares. The robe cascaded at your feet, fully exposing your scantily covered body. Some men began throwing cash on stage, yelling, “Take it all off, baby.”

You swiftly climbed the pole, contorting your body to swirl around, allowing them to view you from all angles. This is what they came for, to watch you—whining your waist up and down while holding the rod, serving the fantasy of how you’d look when riding someone’s cock. Dropping into a split, the crowd went wild. Glancing at the public, you could see the other women beginning lap dances, writhing their bodies to the rhythm of the music. Coriolanus kept his eyes on the drink in hand, only glancing up to sip the moonshine. Your eyes met briefly, and he offered a shy smile before his friend caught his attention to whisper something in his ear. Coriolanus shook his head in protest, but his friend seemed too intoxicated to care about their friend's opinion. The man was slightly shorter with dark brown curls and had a big, goofy smile as he unfurled a fat wad of cash from his pocket. The friend pushed it against Coriolanus’s chest, forcing him to grip the money before it dropped on the dirty speakeasy floors. If you didn’t approach them now, then another girl would.

Elongating your body across the stage, you grabbed the miscellaneous bills of cash on the floor into a pile and stowed them away in the bag you hid by the steps. Pluribus knew your routine and smoothly transitioned to a new tune. With a charming smile, you quickly walked through the crowd, evading eager hands, keeping your eyes on the prize - Coriolanus Snow. But before you could approach him and introduce yourself, his unnamed friend positioned himself between you.

“Hello, Darlin, I’m Augustus,” he slurred your stage name as if it was meant to remain secret. His skin glistened, and the smell of alcohol reeked from his pores. Poor thing was drunk off of his ass. Augustus’s other friends watched, amused at him, while Coriolanus sorted and pocketed the money into his pants.

“What can I do for you, baby?”

“Oh no, not me! For my dear friend Coryo. It’s his birthday! Think he needs a private dance–”

“He needs more than that!” One of the boys quipped, earning quite a few laughs. There appeared to be only a few members from Capitol University, but you only saw walking dollar signs. “Well, it’s only your birthday for one night; I can make it worthwhile,” You replied. They nodded eagerly and practically shoved Coriolanus to stand in front of you. His eyes widened, and his face tinged pink with embarrassment.

“I– I’m sorry about them.” He fumbled over his words as he tried his hardest to keep eye contact and not wander further down to your breasts. You appreciated the effort. Quite the change of character in comparison to what you were used to.

“Don't worry, I don’t bite! But I do need to be paid before we go any further.” You looked up at him and his friends shyly, laying the innocent role on them thick, and they did not hesitate to hand you a sum of money that could cover all of your monthly costs. The sons of Capital families were always the easiest to deceive. They’d learn eventually.

You led Coriolanus upstairs to a simple and minimalist room, clean and warm. He let go of your hand before you could guide him to the bed.

“We don’t have to–”

“Don’t have to what… fuck? Are you a prude?” The question came off more blunt than you had intended; your surprise was evident. Many men of the Capitol fantasized about fucking a girl from the districts with the presumption of sex being more exotic with women who did not come from the same socioeconomic background. Yet he seemed bashful and unsure of how to converse with you and, nonetheless, have sex. “No, no, it’s not that…” His eyes wandered around the room, avoiding eye contact. In the dim lighting, you could still see his cheeks flush with embarrassment or perhaps from the alcohol - most likely both.

“Oh. You’re a virgin.” It became painfully apparent as his face deepened in shades from pink to beet red at your discovery. “It’s hard to believe the Coriolanus Snow hasn’t been with anyone. Has no one caught your eye? You are quite popular amongst the Capitol.” You walked to the bed and lay on the duvet facing him.

“There was this one girl, but it didn’t work out.”

“So you've never thought to act on impulse on your desires? or are you a romantic?” His answer to the question was inconsequential, but it would’ve been a lie to say you weren’t attracted or intrigued by the young man standing before you. The real question you wanted to ask was whether he’d act on his desires with you. Would he give in?

“I’m far from a romantic,” he confessed.

He walked to the bed and tentatively sat beside you. Coriolanus was watching you now, allowing his eyes to take you in. Your supple dark skin glowed in contrast to the crisp white lingerie set. If he looked closely, he would see your hardened nipples underneath the unlined lace. His heated gaze made you feel aroused without even being touched - a foreign sensation you hadn't felt in a while. Coriolanus's face drew closer to yours, lips mere inches apart.

You weren't sure who made the first move, but everything else faded away when his lips met yours. You took his bottom lip between your teeth, slightly tugging it to deepen the kiss. Coriolanus’s tongue slid over yours, and he tasted like mint and moonshine. You whispered between kisses, “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Snow.” Taking one of your hands, Coriolanus guided your hands to his clothed crotch. “Tell me,” you repeated with another kiss.

“Suck me off.”

Unbuckling Coriolanus’s pants revealed a deep v line to his long, girthy cock sprung free from his pants. He inhaled sharply as your tongue trailed his length from the base to the tip before taking the head of his dick in your mouth. You watched as Coriolanus bit back a moan while he watched began sucking the precum leaking from his slit.

“Oh fuck” he rasped. Your head began bobbing up and down his cock with lips wet from saliva, using your hands and mouth together to make sweet pressure build up in his core. The once untouchable Coriolanus Snow was like putty in your hands, whimpering and begging for you to provide him release. You looked up to meet his eyes as he watched and moaned pitifully, trying his best to hold back. Snow looked so pretty like this, vulnerable. “Shit, I- you’re so beautiful,” he groaned. Coriolanus inhaled sharply as you continued to suck his dick, taking it all in your mouth with precision.

“I’m going to cum” Coriolanus cried out.

As you removed his member from your mouth, strands of saliva trailed behind. You continued to stroke him slowly with your hands. "No, not yet. I'm not done with you," you said, shimmying out of your panties. Grinding your wetness against him, you teasingly rubbed your pussy against his cock. Positioning yourself to let your clit rub against him, you worked yourself up, feeling an indescribable need for more. Your tightness clenched around nothing, longing to be filled by Coriolanus. "Snow put it inside me." The chemistry between the two of you intensified.

Coriolanus fumbled with the condom before gliding it on his member. Sinking onto his cock, you were unsure if you can take it all. With each inch, your body shook, waves of pleasure overcame your body once he was entirely in, and arousal pooled between you. Digging his fingers into your ass, in a calm voice, “Your pussys’ so tight,” Coriolanus said. He pounded into you relentlessly as you straddled him. His hooded eyes trained on your cunt, taking him all in. Wet slapping sounds filled the room, betraying the explicit activities within.

“Fuck, slow down. I'm going to cum Corio-”

His lips overtook yours once more in a passionate kiss as he panted between each thrust. “Feel s’good,” Coriolanus slurred. His toned arms wrapped around you, locking you into position with no room to run from his dick, completely taking possession of your body. Your silky walls coiled around him, only for Coriolanus to take. Both of your waists moved frantically as the tension between the two was about to snap.

"Cum inside me, baby," you purred. Coriolanus was on the edge, lost in the sensation of your pussy as he thrust into you. His movements became languid and sloppy. "Ugh, don't stop," Coriolanus choked out between moans. His breath hitched, and his grip tightened as you rode him toward orgasm.

“You’re all mine,” he growled.

“Only for tonight, just one night.” You huffed, still slick with sweat and your juices. Your clit throbbed each time you rolled your hips. Coriolanus erection is still hard inside of you. He got his, and now it was your turn to get yours. He winced at the continued friction as you bounced on top of him. His once rough grasp around you turned gentle, unable to handle the pace that you set.

“I… I can’t.”

“Shhhh, let me take care of you.”

You placed tender kisses along his neck before gently nibbling on his earlobes. The heightened sensitivity awakened a different side of Coriolanus. "I'm gonna cum again," he sighed, blissed out. Your pussy tightened like a vice grip as your legs trembled in bliss, milking him of every last drop of cum, leaving you both feeling euphoric.

"That was fucking amazing... I never..." After struggling to form a coherent sentence, Coriolanus touched your chin, guiding your lips back to his. It was intimate as you melded into each other, foreheads pressed together. Coriolanus and you remained in that position for what felt like hours, inhaling each other's breath.

[mirisss]

SKZ reaction to their gf being an ACE idol

Stray Kids OT8 x Afab! Reader

Wordcount ≈ 1.6k

Warnings: talking about giving up, food, 

Thank you for the request! I wrote a bit more than just the reaction, but I hope you still like it!

Please reblog!

Third person POV

(Y/n) met Stray Kids when they all joined JYPE as she too was a trainee under the label. (Y/n) quickly became close with all the members and they all got along very well. Sooner rather than later they all fell in love with each other and entered a poly relationship about 2 years after SKZ made their debut. (Y/n) was still waiting to debut and almost became hopeless after waiting for so long and not getting a chance. Even though the nine of them had known each other for a few years, the SKZ members hadn’t seen (Y/n) sing, rap, or dance, in a long time. They had probably only seen her perform once or twice before they debuted. 

Stray Kids were preparing for their next comeback which meant that they didn’t have too much time to hang out with (Y/n). So one day when they were going to be at JYPE the entire day, (Y/n) decided to join them and spend some time with them while they were practicing. This then resulted in the boys wanting (Y/n) to join them when dancing and let’s just say, SKZ was not ready for (Y/n)’s skills. 

“(Y/n)! It’s been so long, I missed you so much, I felt like I was gonna die if I didn’t see you soon,” Han said as he rushed to give (Y/n) a hug as she stepped inside the dance studio. “Ji, we literally saw each other two days ago,” “I know, it’s been so long,” “Haha, okay drama-king, I’ve missed you too,” After everyone had a chance to hug (Y/n) she went over to sit down on the couch in the corner of the room while the boys began warming up to practice the choreo to their dance. 

As (Y/n) was observing the members dancing as well as trying to sing/rap their parts to see if any dance moves made it harder to sing or rap at the same time. (Y/n) quickly got the feeling of the song and she became captivated with everything. Not too long after the boys had taken a little water break, they ended up finding a problem. 

“Because we have this like body roll here I find it hard to actually get the right note because I can’t support it fully,” Seungmin said, Lee Know tried out the move on his own, his face full of concentration. “Could you try doing it like this?” Lee Know showed an example of another version of the move, followed by Seungmin trying it out but still struggling a little. (Y/n) was thinking it through and she came up with an idea of what they could possibly do but she had to try it out herself first. 

“Could you play the track to that part? I might have an idea for how it could be executed, but I have to try it first,” They all turned to (Y/n), a little surprised. Of course, they knew that she was a trainee and had been for a while but it had been so long since they last saw (Y/n) doing anything idol-like. “Yeah, sure, hold on,” Chan ran over to the phone and fixed the music. As soon as it played (Y/n) began dancing, executing every single dance move to perfection while also rapping along to Han’s part to smoothly transition into the vocal part belonging to Seungmin. Stray Kids were shocked at how good (Y/n) was dancing, rapping, and singing. And also with how quickly she had memorized the dance and everything. (Y/n) continued dancing, singing, and rapping until the song ended. The boys cheered and fanboyed over how good she was. 

“(Y/n)! WHAT? WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL US YOU WERE THIS GOOD? THINK OF ALL THE COLLABS WE COULD HAVE DONE?” Changbin was freaking out and shaking (Y/n) as he hugged her. All of them looked so proud as they lovingly gazed at (Y/n). “Thank you, guys, but isn’t it kind of difficult to collaborate with someone who hasn’t debuted?” As (Y/n) reminded them of the fact that she was still a trainee they all looked a bit sad and disappointed. “Yeah, it would be difficult. You haven’t heard anything about your debut?” Chan asked after he told everyone to take a break to eat something. “No, not since last year when I was told that it wasn’t the right time to debut a soloist and they don’t seem to want me in a group so I’m getting a bit hopeless,” “Don’t be, it will be fine. Everything will work out, trust me, I waited a long time too,” Chan enveloped (Y/n) in a warm hug, Felix soon joined in, followed by the rest of them. 

(Not my gifs) ↑ how they react to (Y/n)

After they had taken a break to eat some lunch, they got back in the studio, This time (Y/n) joined them while dancing and the nine of them had some fun messing around with the dance and singing and rapping. Just enjoying their time together. Once the day was over, Chan asked Changbin to stay behind with him while the others went home. “What’s up, hyung?” “(Y/n) is way too talented to just be a trainee, she’s giving up Binnie. We can’t let that happen,” “What can we do, though? We can’t do more than try to encourage her,” “Yes we can, I’m sure that the company is doubting if she can become a soloist that will be popular, especially since the age of new groups and soloists keeps going down. So they don’t know if it’s worth debuting her, spending a lot of money on her songs and everything. So, what if 3racha writes her debut song? We are in-house producers, it will be way cheaper, our stays will support her if we write her songs, and I’m sure STAY will fall in love with (Y/n) if they’re only given a chance to hear and see her,” “That’s true, STAY would love her, and a lot of other people too, we can at least try to help her,”

As soon as the two came home they spoke with Han too, explaining their plan. 3racha has some power within the company and they knew that they could gain the support of the company if they were persuasive enough. The three sat down in Chan’s room where he had his mini-studio, brainstorming concepts and genres that would fit their girlfriend. They worked all night to have a rough draft to show the company in the morning. At the meeting, 3racha played it cool at first, just speaking about their comeback. Once the meeting was coming to an end, Chan raised his hand saying there was a special topic he wished to discuss. The staff gave him the floor, allowing him to speak up. He told them about seeing (Y/n) perform their song the other day and how he thinks JYPE is wasting her potential by not debuting her which is why 3racha had written 5 tracks for (Y/n) that could be used for her debut mini-album. The staff was a bit taken aback but listened to what the idols/producers had to say. The staff accepted the feedback and said that they would bring it with them to the staff meeting this afternoon and see what everyone had to say. 

The next day, (Y/n) stormed into the dance studio where SKZ was dancing, walking up to Chan with a slightly irritated look on her face. “What did you do?” “What do you mean?” “Did you force JYPE to debut me?” “What? No?” “I was told that my debut date has been set and my songs are pretty much finished, thanks to 3racha for producing them,” “Yeah? That’s true, We did write some songs for you and talked with the company but we didn’t threaten them or anything, we just said that they’re wasting your potential and that if it would help we have 5 tracks written for you,” “So, they’re actually debuting me for my talent?” “Of course, they are, Look we wrote those songs because we wanted to help you. The company seemed like they would wait forever and we didn’t want you to give up. And we know that if STAY sees that we were involved in the songs, they will support you, and if they just give you a chance they’ll fall in love with you,” “Thank you,” (Y/n) began crying, she was finally making her debut, all thanks to her lovely boyfriends who believed in her when she didn’t believe in herself. “And once you’ve debuted, we can collab!” “Yeah!” 

“I love you guys,” “We love you too!” “Congratulations on debuting!” Not too long after (Y/n) made her debut, the entire industry was talking about her as she took the stage like a pro. The way she danced, rapped, and sang, people were going crazy wondering if she really was a rookie or not. And when a collab stage came out with (Y/n) and Han everyone in the industry, staff, idols, and fans alike, was mind-blown. STAYs and (Y/n)’s fans were all saying this was a collab of the ACES, The two idols were incredible and people said that they had such chemistry too. Articles were written about the “ACES of JYPE,” 

(Not my gif) ↓ SKZ's reaction to (Y/n)’s debut (except, Hyunjin didn’t look scared/disgusted)

[moon-huny]

Stole the Moon - Chapter Two

CW: My content is not for anyone under 18. Some sharp objects in this chapter. Mild language. Some coercion and, whats this, sexual frustration? You're still kidnapped so, mentions of imprisonment.

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: Finally feeling generous, Buggy calls for his right hand man to bring you above deck. Can he smoothly transition into his plan, or do you have other ideas?

A/N: I know I already said it in an update post, but thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my work. And for all the new followers! It truly means a lot.

I am going to rip the bandaid off now. No clown smut in this chapter. I know, I know, okay, I'm sorry. This is meant to be a slow burn people, we need some push and pull before we get to the push and pull, ya know? That being said, there will be some nasty nasty in chapter three, I can promise you that. Okay, that's all, enjoy.

masterlist ✧˖°

previous • next

Days passed and you hadn’t received a visit.

Every evening, a small bowl filled with enough food to keep you alive is passed through the bars along with a small tin cup of watery tasting alcohol. Nobody spoke to you, nobody lit the candles when you ran out of matches, nobody offered you even a passing glance. You were left entirely alone in the darkened hull of a gaudy ship sailing to god knows where.

Maybe he forgot about you. What use could you provide to a man like that? You began to question what it was he even needed you for. What could you possibly know about the sea that he didn't know? You’d tried so hard to remember, hoping something, anything, would come to your mind.

You thought about the map. The one he spread out for you to see that night. You recalled the waiting look in his eyes, hoping you’d recognize it. Nothing. You replayed the moment again in your head, his broad gloved hands smoothing across the fabric of the map. What did the map look like again? All you could think about was the flex of his hand. The way his eyes had flicked up to look at you, under a strong brow and peering through long lashes.

Your memory wandered back to the moment when you were closest to him. When he had you caged against the wall, the heat of his body radiating off of him, hot breath ghosting over your lips. The way his knee pressed ever so deliciously to your –

You gasp, in shock and disgust at your own thoughts. “Oh, absolutely not,” you say aloud. The loneliness was getting to you.

You went to the port hole. In your time down here you’d searched the entire cell for anything you could use to escape. After coming up empty handed, you took it upon yourself to do some… redecorating.

You’d made the bed more comfortable with some fabric you’d found, and stacked the empty cargo into a more comfortable variation so you could look out the small round window. Climbing atop the sturdy mound of boxes and barrels, you looked out across the velvet waves. The crescent moon shone brightly, its reflection causing the gentle water to sparkle and flicker, as though tea candles were floating and bobbing on the surface.

A tear rolled down your cheek, another, and soon you were crying with too little energy to sob. That's when you thought you heard someone walking gently above you on the deck of the ship, humming a tune. It was different from the sea shanties you normally heard during the day, this melody sounded more like a lullaby.

The song was haunting, and yet, hearing another person, knowing somebody was sharing this moment with you in the moonlight, lightened the weight on your chest. Your crying stopped, the comfort taking over your exhausted frame as you leaned against the wall by the window listening to the voice pull you into the warmth of sleep.

Unknown to you, the vocalist leaning against the railing of the ship was devising a plan. A miserable plan to ruin you and lead you to a hell you wouldn’t recognize until it was too late – a sly smirk spreading across his red painted lips.

///

Buggy was spread out across his throne-like chair. The captain’s quarters were decorated like a big top circus tent – red and white fabric ballooned across the ceiling of the small room. The space was filled with gold and treasure of every kind. The desk was cluttered with navigation tools and maps.

“Cabaji, I’d like for you to retrieve our guest now,” his voice dripped with a sinister undertone. He barely paid any attention to the man before him, instead staring at a dainty silver necklace wrapped around his hand.

“Captain, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Cabaji wavered before his ringleader. The chief of staff knew what you had the potential to do, he knew what you were and it was only a matter of time before you figured it out too.

“I didn’t ask you to think,” his head fell to the side finally regarding the swordsman. “I asked you to go. GET. THAT. BRAT!”

“Yes, captain.” Turning about-face with a sigh, Cabaji made his way down to your cell.

///

Hearing footsteps this early in the morning was unusual. Unusual enough to cause you to bolt upright in bed. Through the darkened hallway – the morning light not quite reaching the lower decks of the ship yet – your eyes adjusted enough to see a recognizable swordsman stalking toward you through the shadows.

You sprang from the bed, your eyes not once leaving the taller man’s form. Standing in the middle of your room, you made your best attempt to question him before he could reach your cell door.

“It’s a bit early,” your voice wavered, a look of uncertainty on your face. “What do you want?” You questioned hoping that the increase in volume would make you sound more confident, it didn’t.

He unlocked the door and threw it open. “Get out, you’re coming with me.”

“Like hell, where is the clown? What are you planning on doing with me?”

This was the first time anyone had spoken to you in days. This was perhaps the only moment you might have to get some answers.

Cabaji sighed with frustration, he wanted nothing more than to sling you over his shoulder, carry you to the captain’s quarters and save everyone a lot of time, and yet, he recalled the final words Buggy said before sending him on this errand.

“And Cabaji, … don’t touch her.”

He wasn’t one to question Buggy’s orders but, on a crew that was so rarely regulated outside of performance, Cabaji had to wonder what the order was for.

“Come. Now.” You gave the green haired man a hesitant look.

“If I don’t?”

“Then I can only imagine Buggy will let you rot down here.”

Spending another moment alone might kill you, especially in the sensory deprivation chamber that was this room.

“Lead the way,” a weak response. Cabaji turned, leaving the door open.

At first you couldn't make your legs move. The idea that you could walk out, just step beyond the threshold of iron and rust and rot. Yet, you did, slowly at first then all at once speeding up to catch the stoic man.

Climbing up onto the deck in the morning light was reward in and of itself. The sun was just finishing its rise, gracing your skin, warming your face and causing you to squint.

“This way,” Cabaji called after you. He made his way toward an ornate door at the stern of the ship. He peeled the doors open, walked in, and stood to the side as you followed behind him.

His eyes scanned your appearance and, after consideration, displayed a distasteful look. You could have assumed you weren’t looking your best, being locked up on a pirate ship wasn’t exactly a spa retreat. The braid you had your hair in was full of tangled knots you had tried again and again to brush, your skin was dull, reflecting your time in the dark and your clothing could hardly be considered appropriate.

“He’ll speak with you soon,” said the swordsman. “Whenever he decides to collect himself,” and he slipped out behind you, shutting the doors.

Standing alone in the den of a predator, you naturally did what any prey would do, you began to inspect.

The room was beautiful – if not a little cliche for the circumstance – the big top theme was not lost on you. Though the room was small, something about the leading lines of the tent-like structure above you made the space feel larger.

On one end of the room, large draping curtains separated his bedroom from the rest of the office. The large wood carved bed dressed up with colorful weighted fabrics called to your aching body. Weeks of sleeping on a plank had taken its toll on you.

There was a large desk in the center with several detailed maps displayed across it. A small gleaming dagger staked into the mahogany kept a stack of papers in place. After looking around the room and seeing no one, you pulled the jeweled blade from the wood opting to carry it by your side just out of sight.

Behind the desk, a large chair with a circus motif. Golden lions wearing collars perched on the armrests, the crushed red velvet of the seat complimented the gold and ruby circus tent adorning the back.

As you reached out to touch the gorgeously detailed piece, a voice from behind startled you.

“It’s just as comfortable as it looks, ya know,” said Buggy. “Go ahead, have a seat.”

He was standing at the entrance. How did you not hear him come in? You both stood opposite one another in the room. A space between you that was comfortable and one you would normally prefer to keep, but you would rather have revenge. Holding the small knife behind your back, you stood stone still, hands becoming clammy and heart rate picking up.

“S’matter?” he said. “You look terrified.” Mock concern, his specialty.

“What do you want?” quiet, just above a whisper, it was like your voice had floated from your lips. The pillowy softness of your words drew him closer.

He made his way around the desk to you. Your eyes never leaving one anothers. He pulled the silver necklace from his coat pocket. He looked more relaxed without the garish captain's hat and the arsenal of weapons he usually kept draped on his person.

“I wanted to return something.” Your eyes glanced over at his hand holding a beautiful silver necklace. A dainty spiga chain wrapped around his fingers, but the real draw was the antique pendant encasing a gorgeous moonstone. You recognized it immediately. It belonged to someone close to you, but her face was blurry in your mind.

“I’ve never seen that before,” you said, hoping you hid your emotions enough to not draw intrigue.

“Oh? Because, I remember it looking gorgeous on you.” His eyes flicked down to where your arms crossed behind your back. Your breath stopped, squeezing the handle of the dagger hoping he wouldn’t ask.

“Put it on me then,” you say, fast enough to draw his attention away from your nefarious little friend. You spun around quickly to move the dagger in front of you, hiding it against your inner arm where your limbs crossed over your stomach.

The blue haired man smiled a sly smile. He stepped toward you, your back to him was not ideal but, as far as you knew, you still had the element of surprise on your side.

His hand came up to gently move your hair out of the way. His gloved fingertips just lightly brushing along the top of your back and over your shoulder, pushing your braid to the side. You tried to steady your breathing, feeling nervousness rising to your chest knowing what you were about to do.

His arms came up over your head to rest the pendant across your chest. As he brought the clasp together at your nape, he didn’t miss his chance to lightly drag his knuckles against the soft skin on either side of your neck. Clipping the silver together, his touch lingered for a moment.

By the way you reacted to such featherlight touches, Buggy knew Cabaji did exactly as he’d asked. Nobody was to touch you. Your hunger to connect with another person had to be fed by him and him only. If this was to work, he’d have to consume your every thought.

Right now, however, you were poisoning the butterflies in your stomach and focusing on executing your impromptu plan. In one swift motion, you spun to face the man behind you. His arms dropped to the side. His face contorted into one of anger, eyes narrowing at you. The dagger pressed into his jugular, a forceful stab is all it would take to kill him.

“Hands where I can see em, clown,” you spit.

His face pulled into a worried expression. Eyebrows furrowing together, eyes pleading, he swallowed a lump in his throat. You admit, you felt powerful. He began drawing his arms upward in order to bring his hands to the sides of head. You swore your peripheral vision was playing tricks on you.

You whipped your gaze to verify that what you were seeing was true. Both of his arms ended in stumps. Your eyes widened and you affixed your terrified gaze back onto the man.

“Nice try, sweetheart!” and punctuated his remark with a wink.

It all happened so fast, two cotton clad hands flew in from behind you and gripped your wrists. The strength of them hauling you back and pulling your arms up above your head. You looked up and confirmed your fears.

Indeed, Buggy’s disembodied hands were pulling you upward just enough so you were forced to balance on the tips of your toes. You dangled in front of him, chest heaving in panic. You let out various little feral sounds attempting to struggle out of the binding grip he had on you. Until, out of pure vexation, you let out a scream.

“Ooo, geez, honey please,” he said, frowning and squinting his eyes closed. “Little too loud for the morning, okay? Let’s maybe dial it back a bit.”

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

“Yeah, well doll, you missed that chance didn’t ya?”

You let out another few struggling grunts and then another scream.

His eyes rolled, “We done? ... Wanna do one more? Ya know, when women are screaming in my room it’s usually after cumming a third time.”

You just stared at him dumbfounded. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The comment itself just about slapped you across the face enough to shut you up. He knew it too.

When he clocked that most of your fight had left your body from exhaustion, he made himself at home in your personal space yet again. Feeling his presence so close felt claustrophobic. His eyes scanned you. The weight of his gaze was enough to have you withering, his hands still holding you up.

“This dress is all wrong for you,” he said. “How about you get cleaned up, hmm?” the stump of his arm came up under your chin to lift your eyes to him. “I can’t have an exhausted dinner guest, you’d be asleep by dessert!” Then at a hushed volume, “and I prefer a conscious final course.”

Making a disgusted face at that last comment, what he was offering didn’t sound so bad. The things you would do right now for a bath, a chance to brush your hair, to clean the grime from your nails, to rest. The watercolor green eyes of the man before you softened, as if he knew what you were thinking.

“Alright then … I’ll leave you to it,” he finally dropped you as his hands found their normal resting place on his body. At the snap of his fingers, two young women opened the doors and came rushing in, immediately crowding you.

“Ladies, do you think you can help our guest get more comfortable?” he asked them as he backed up and began to take his leave.

They both stood before you, arms crossed with disapproving looks on their faces. Their outfits were perfect mirror images of each other, same for the makeup. Their hair was cut short, each movement they made caused their tight coils to bounce. The height and overall measurements of the two women were exactly alike as well.

Their only difference was their skin, hair and eye color. The red-haired woman had a pink tinge to her tawny skin – an obvious sunburn from being at sea – and bright blue eyes. The woman on the right had clearly added too much blush atop her natural sepia coloring in order to match her partner’s reddened condition, the hair framing her face was a smooth onyx color, her eyes a warm amber shade.

They turned to face him in perfect unison, “We can try.” They both said.

“Greaaat.” he replied, clearly off put by their synchronization. “Well then, doll, I’ll see you at dinner this evening.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚

taglist: @tokoyamisstuff @mommymilkerfanclub @chaoticqueen33 @tootoomanycats

taglist is open.

[mccall-muffin]

The Lady and the Major - Part 2/3 // John "Bucky" Egan x OC

Summary: Bucky quickly realizes that Liz is not like any woman he has ever met before. But there is still a war to win, and Bucky has his duties. So, every letter that arrives is a prized possession now.

Warnings: Language, teasing, kissing, sex (not too detailed)

A/N: So, here is part 2 for you. And yes, by now I've seen all the Episodes that are out as of now - so I'm up to date ;)

Here is my Masterlist

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @mads-weasley, @brassknucklespeirs, @softguarnere, @shesgonna

As the band transitions smoothly into a slow, captivating melody, the atmosphere of the gala shifts, becoming charged with a different kind of energy. Bucky, seizing the moment, sets aside the formalities with the ease of a man used to taking the lead. He gently takes Liz's champagne flute, placing it on a nearby table with a confident grin. "Care to dance, Lady Cavendish?" he asks, extending his hand, his eyes sparkling with an invitation to step into a moment just for the two of them.

On the dance floor, Bucky guides Liz with a practiced ease, pulling her close enough that their conversation remains private, a bubble amidst the sea of dancing couples. His hands are respectfully placed, yet the occasional, deliberate brush of his fingers along her back suggests a familiarity that goes beyond mere dance partners.

As they move to the rhythm of the music, Bucky can't resist the opportunity to delve deeper into the intriguing paradox that is Liz. "You know, I've been told quite a few tales about the elusive Lady Cavendish," he teases, his voice low and playful. "Word around is that beneath that veneer of the perfect highborn lady lies a spirit too wild to be tamed by society's chains."

Liz, unphased and quick to respond, tilts her head slightly, a challenge in her bright blue eyes. "And just what exactly have you heard, Major Egan?" she inquires, her voice a mix of curiosity and daring. "I'm quite intrigued to know what stories have made their way to your ears."

Their dance becomes a metaphor for their conversation—each step and turn a delicate balance between revealing too much and not enough. Bucky, navigating this dance of words as skillfully as he does the physical one, leans in, his breath a whisper against her ear. "I've heard that you're no stranger to bending the rules, that you find the conventional life of aristocracy stifling. That you've been known to disappear into the night on adventures that would make your family's esteemed guests blush," he whispers, each word carefully chosen to entice and probe.

Liz's reaction is a soft, genuine laugh, a sound that seems to momentarily lighten the weight of her title and societal expectations. "My, my, Major, such scandalous rumors," she retorts, her tone laced with amusement and a hint of defiance. "Let's just say I believe life is too short to be lived within the confines of what others deem acceptable. And perhaps, I do enjoy the thrill of the chase, the excitement of the unknown."

Their eyes lock, and in that moment, a silent understanding passes between them. Here, in the middle of the dance floor, they've managed to peel back another layer of the intrigue that surrounds their budding relationship. Bucky, drawn to the fire he sees burning behind Liz's poised exterior, finds himself more captivated than ever, eager to discover what other secrets lie hidden beneath her aristocratic facade.

As the song comes to an end, they remain momentarily in each other's arms, the last notes fading into the background. This dance, both literal and metaphorical, has drawn them closer, weaving their stories together in a way that neither had anticipated. And as they step back, rejoining the world around them, it's clear that this evening has only served to deepen the intrigue and attraction that pulses between them.

Liz's invitation to step outside carries an undertone of challenge, a silent test of Bucky's willingness to navigate the complexities of her world. He accepts with a nod, the unspoken communication between them sparking with anticipation. However, as they make their way toward the grand doors leading to the estate's gardens, they are intercepted by none other than the Duke and Duchess of Wellington themselves.

With hardly a moment to prepare, Liz leans in, her voice a hurried whisper, instructing Bucky on the proper etiquette for addressing her parents. "Remember, it's 'Your Grace' for both of them," she murmurs, her tone urgent yet composed. Bucky, despite the sudden shift in situation, nods his understanding, a quick study in the art of aristocratic manners.

The Duke, a figure of imposing stature and dignity, eyes Bucky with a mix of curiosity and the guarded warmth of a father protective of his daughter. "And who might this be, Elizabeth?" he inquires, his voice carrying the weight of authority and expectation.

Liz, ever the adept navigator of her family's expectations, steps in smoothly. "Father, Mother, this is Major John Egan of the US Air Force. We met recently at a charity event where Major Egan was sharing some of his experiences from the war. His stories were quite enlightening," she explains, echoing the innocent tale she'd spun for her brother.

The Duchess offers Bucky a polite smile, but it's the Duke's reaction that holds the room in suspense. After a moment's evaluation, his expression softens, a nod of approval directed at Bucky. "A pilot, you say? Well, that's commendable. Our Edward has told us much about the bravery required in such a role," he says, his voice revealing a hint of the pride he holds for his son's achievements.

Bucky, sensing the importance of this moment, responds with the respect and humility befitting the situation. "Your Grace, it's an honor to serve. And it's been a privilege to share some of my experiences with those who understand the sacrifices made in the skies," he replies, his tone sincere.

The Duke nods, seemingly impressed by Bucky's demeanor and the shared bond of aerial combat. "Well, Major Egan, it's a pleasure to have you among us tonight. The bravery of you and your comrades in the Air Force is something we hold in high regard," he states, extending a hand in a gesture of respect and acceptance.

With the formal introductions made and the Duke's approval subtly given, Liz and Bucky are allowed to continue on their way, stepping out into the cool evening air. The brief encounter with her parents was a test, one that Bucky passed with the grace of a man who, despite his unorthodox entry into their world, understands the value of respect and common ground.

As they move away from the light and music spilling out from the mansion, the night around them feels charged with a new energy. Liz's challenge, Bucky's acceptance, and the unexpected approval of her father have all conspired to deepen the connection between them, setting the stage for whatever comes next under the starlit sky.

As they stand together on the balcony, the cool night air mingling with the tension of their conversation, Bucky watches Liz closely.

"You know why I turned them all down? All those ass-kissers of earls, viscounts, and so on who threw themselves at me?"

Her confession hangs between them, a raw and honest revelation that strips away the layers of aristocracy and high society, revealing the woman beneath. He's moved by her vulnerability, by the glimpse she's offered into the gilded cage that is her life.

"Why turn them all down, Liz?" Bucky prompts gently, already suspecting the answer but needing to hear it in her own words.

Liz's gaze meets his, steady and resolute. "Because marrying one of them would seal my fate. I'd be trapped in this world, expected to play the perfect wife, the dutiful daughter, forever," she confesses, her voice laced with a mixture of defiance and resignation. "I want more than what's expected of me, more than this life can offer."

Bucky's respect for her deepens in this moment, his initial attraction evolving into something more profound. He sees her not just as a challenge or a conquest but as a fellow soul seeking freedom from the confines of their respective worlds.

"And inviting me here tonight?" Bucky asks, the pieces falling into place. "Was that your way of rebelling against all this?" There's a note of understanding in his voice, a recognition of her courage in the face of stifling expectations.

Liz nods a small but significant gesture. "You're... different, Bucky. You don't belong to this world, and yet, you stood your ground. That confidence, that defiance—I wanted that for myself, even if just for a night," she admits, her eyes not leaving his.

Bucky steps closer, closing the distance between them, moved by her honesty. "Liz, I may not know all the rules of your world, but I do know about feeling trapped," he shares, his voice soft but firm. "If you're looking for a bit of freedom, even for just one night, then I say we take it. No expectations, no strings. Just two people enjoying the moment for what it is."

Liz's response is a smile, one that reaches her eyes and lights up the night. It's a smile of relief, of gratitude, of a burden momentarily lifted. "I'd like that, Bucky. More than you know," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

As they stand there, two figures against the backdrop of a world that demands so much from them, they find solace in each other's company. For Liz, Bucky represents a breath of fresh air, a chance to experience life unfiltered by the expectations of her status. And for Bucky, Liz is no longer just the enigmatic aristocrat but a woman of depth and courage, fighting for her own identity.

In the moment their lips meet, the world around them—the chatter of the gala, the soft rustle of the night breeze, the distant melodies spilling out from the ballroom—fades into insignificance. Bucky, taken aback by the intensity of the kiss, finds himself caught in the current of Liz's boldness and expertise. Her playful bite, the confident dance of her tongue, signals a depth of experience that both surprises and entices him.

As Liz wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the connection deepens, their bodies speaking a language of their own making. Bucky's hands, resting initially at her waist, venture slightly lower, his touch light but daring over the fabric of her dress, a silent exploration of the territory between propriety and desire.

When they finally part, the look Liz gives Bucky is one of playful challenge, a silent dare that speaks volumes. Her wink, a spark of mischief and promise, leaves him momentarily stunned, a statue on the balcony as she turns to make her way back inside. Yet, the invitation in her glance, the unspoken command to follow, ignites a fire within him.

Liz's graceful navigation through the gala's attendees, each step a tantalizing lure, leads Bucky on a path he knows is fraught with both risk and exhilaration. As she ascends the staircase, her silhouette a beacon in the sea of guests, Bucky's decision to follow feels not like a choice but a necessity, a call to adventure too compelling to resist.

The journey to her quarters, a silent procession through the dimly lit corridors of Wellington House, is charged with anticipation. Bucky, aware of the boldness of this pursuit, understands the unspoken rules of the game they're playing. This isn't just a physical attraction; it's a mutual rebellion against the confines of their respective worlds, a shared quest for authenticity and freedom.

As he follows, maintaining a discreet distance to avoid drawing attention, Bucky realizes that this night, this moment, could redefine the course of their acquaintance. Liz, with her daring and defiance, has challenged him to step beyond the bounds of his own experience, to engage in a dance as risky as it is irresistible.

The decision to pursue Liz, to accept her silent invitation, marks a turning point. It's a step into the unknown, a gamble on the promise of something profound. In this game of hearts and wills, where every gesture is laden with meaning, Bucky and Liz find themselves on the brink of a discovery that could either shatter the world they know or forge a new path forward, together.

As the door closes behind Bucky, marking their entry into a realm removed from the eyes of the world, the air between him and Liz becomes charged with an undeniable intensity. What unfolds is a dance of two souls, a private exchange of affection and connection that transcends the physical space they occupy.

In the seclusion of Liz's quarters, away from the rigid expectations of their external lives, they find a freedom and a fervor that is as much about rebellion as it is about attraction. The room, with its soft lighting and the distant sound of the gala continuing below, serves as a backdrop to a moment of vulnerability and honesty.

The exchange of kisses and the exploration of touch speaks to a deep-seated desire for authenticity and understanding. It's a conversation without words, a dialogue where every gesture, every breath, carries the weight of unspoken dreams and desires.

As garments become mere whispers on the floor, the world outside, with its rules and roles, fades into insignificance. What matters in this secluded space is the connection that thrives in the absence of pretense, a bond forged not just in the heat of the moment but in the shared recognition of each other's true selves.

The rustling of bedding, the soft sighs, and the gentle caresses are chapters in a story that is theirs alone—a tale of discovery, of the courage to seek out the spaces where they can be unapologetically themselves. In the quiet aftermath, as they lie entwined, the significance of this encounter is palpable. It's a promise of possibility, a testament to the power of finding someone who sees beyond the facade to the person beneath.

This night, in the privacy of Liz's quarters, is a declaration of their mutual defiance against the constraints of their worlds. It's an acknowledgment that, despite the challenges that lie ahead, they have found in each other a rare and precious solace, a sanctuary where they can explore the depths of their connection away from prying eyes.

As dawn threatens to reclaim the night, the reality of their respective lives looms large. Yet, in this moment, they are grounded in the profound realization that what they have discovered in each other is a strength, a partnership that might just have the power to redefine their destinies.

Two weeks have passed since Bucky's return from London to the base, and the changes in him haven't gone unnoticed by those closest to him. Gone is the relentless flirt, replaced by a man who seems preoccupied, his attention drawn inward. Buck Cleven, ever the observant friend, can't help but notice the shift, especially in light of the increasing pile of correspondence that seems to capture Bucky's focus each morning.

This particular morning, Bucky is more animated than usual, a smile playing on his lips as he carefully unfolds a letter. Buck, curious and a bit concerned, nudges him. "Who's got you smiling like that, huh? Someone special?" he teases, trying to catch a glimpse of the sender.

Bucky hesitates, a brief struggle visible in his demeanor before he decides to share the letter with Buck. It reads:

Dear Major Egan,

I hope this letter finds you wallowing in the misery of our separation, desperately missing my company. I regret to inform you that I've taken up with a prince, a real one this time, who showers me with the adoration and luxuries befitting a lady of my stature. So, it seems our little dalliance must come to an end.

Please, don't despair too much. I'm sure you'll find a way to mend your broken heart, perhaps with one of those American heiresses desperate for a title, or maybe with a nice farm girl? Someone who can appreciate your... what was it you do again? Oh, right, flying planes.

Do not fret, dear Major. You will always hold a special place in my heart, somewhere between my love for my horse and my tolerance for my brother's tedious war stories.

With all the affection I can muster (which, as you know, is quite limited),

Liz

P.S. I've included a photograph, as you so tiresomely begged for one. Please try not to wear it out with your ogling. I expect it back in pristine condition, or you shall owe me a new one.

Tucked within the letter is a photograph of Liz. The image captures her essence perfectly—beautiful, aristocratic, and brimming with the sly humor that Bucky has grown so fond of.

Buck, reading over Bucky's shoulder, lets out a laugh. "She's got you on a string, hasn't she?" he chuckles, handing back the letter. "You've got good taste, I'll give you that."

Bucky, looking at the photo once more, can't help but laugh as well. He can almost hear Liz's voice as she penned the letter, her teasing tone, the twinkle in her eye as she crafted each sarcastic remark. It's a comfort, a tangible connection to the woman who's managed to upend his world and settle under his skin.

"She's one of a kind," Bucky admits, a warmth in his voice that speaks volumes. Folding the letter and slipping the photo into his pocket, he feels a renewed sense of determination. Whatever it takes, he knows he has to see her again, to bridge the distance the war has placed between them. Liz might tease, might play her games, but beneath the sarcasm and jests lies a connection neither can deny, a story far from over.

Buck watches Bucky with an incredulous look. "Alright, spill it, Egan. Who's the dame that's got you all twisted up? I never thought I'd see the day when John Egan, the lady-killer, would be mooning over some broad," he teases, the smoke curling up into the air between them.

Bucky, feeling a mix of defensiveness and pride, takes a moment before he responds, choosing his words with care. "Her name's Liz," he starts, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile at the mere mention of her name. "Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, if you want to get all formal about it. Met her in London. She's... different, Buck. Not like anyone I've ever met before."

Buck raises an eyebrow, taking a long drag from his cigarette before flicking the ash off to the side. "Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, huh? Sounds like a real high-class bird. Got you good and proper, didn't she?" he chuckles, the humor not quite masking the genuine curiosity in his tone.

Bucky can't help but laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, she did. But it's not like that. She's sharp, Buck. Got a wit that could cut glass and a spirit that's just... infectious. And she doesn't give a damn about all that high-society bullshit. She's trapped in it, sure, but she's fighting it every step of the way."

The more Bucky talks about Liz, the more animated he becomes, his usual reserve giving way to a barely contained enthusiasm. It's clear to Buck that this isn't just some fling or a passing fancy. Liz has managed to break through Bucky's well-guarded exterior, touching a part of him that perhaps even he hadn't realized was there.

Buck, sensing the depth of Bucky's feelings, nods slowly, a new respect in his gaze. "Sounds like a real peach, John. A dame like that, yeah, I can see why you'd be hung up on her." He takes another puff of his cigarette, his expression thoughtful. "Just be careful, alright? These broads from the other side of the pond, they play a different game. But if she's got you willing to jump through hoops, she must be something special."

Bucky's response is a simple nod, his mind already drifting back to Liz, to the memories of their time together and the anticipation of what might come next. The conversation shifts as they move on to other topics, but for Bucky, Liz remains a constant presence, her image, her words, a steady pulse beneath the surface of his thoughts.

In the barracks filled with the coarse banter of soldiers, the smoke of cigarettes hanging heavy in the air, Bucky finds himself in a world apart, his heart anchored across the ocean, tethered to the enigmatic Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, who's managed to do the unthinkable—capture the heart of Major John Egan.

As the morning light spills into Liz's room, illuminating the delicate furnishings and the soft, luxurious bedding she's entangled in, her initial irritation at being awakened fades the moment Mrs. Baxter mentions the letter. Liz's eyes, still heavy with sleep, light up with anticipation, a rare show of eagerness that Mrs. Baxter notes with a soft, knowing smile.

"Seems like your American soldier can't quite keep you off his mind, my lady," Mrs. Baxter says, her tone playful yet respectful, as she hands over the letter to Liz.

Grasping the letter, Liz's usual morning grumpiness is replaced by a flutter of excitement. She carefully opens the envelope, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. The letter reads:

My Dearest Liz,

Hoping this note finds you shining bright over there. I gotta say, even the best days in Thorpe Abbotts don’t hold a candle to you. Your last letter? A real knockout. It was like a splash of color on a dreary English day, and let me tell you, that’s saying something.

You teasing about ditching this budding thing we got for some high-and-mighty life with the blue bloods almost had me. But behind all that sass, I know there’s a warmth that keeps me going, has me lying awake thinking about you.

That picture you sent is my new prized possession. Seriously, it’s with me everywhere. Every time I look at it, I see that spark in your eyes, that smile of yours, and it hits me hard—how much you’ve come to mean to me.

Even though we’re worlds apart, you’re always on my mind. The thought of seeing you again is the light at the end of this tunnel. I’m holding onto the hope that this mess of a war gives us a break soon, so I can be back by your side, soaking in your glow.

Till then, just know I’m here, waiting and hoping.

Always yours, Bucky

Liz reads the letter, a smile playing on her lips, touched by Bucky's words that manage to be both teasing and heartfelt. The sincerity in his tone, the open declaration of his affection, strikes a chord deep within her, warming her more than the morning sun ever could.

Mrs. Baxter, observing Liz's softened expression, can't help but comment, "Seems like the Major has a way with words, my lady."

Liz, looking up from the letter, meets Mrs. Baxter's gaze, her smile widening. "Indeed, he does, Mrs. Baxter. Indeed, he does," she replies, her mind already racing with thoughts of how to respond, how to match Bucky's blend of humor and sincerity in her next letter.

For a moment, the challenges and restrictions of her world seem distant, as Liz allows herself to be carried away by the promise of what's to come, buoyed by the words of a man who, despite the chaos of war, has become an anchor in her tumultuous life.

What she doesn't know is that soon everything will change.

Next part >>

[nikolliver]

Future out of reach

[Word count: 3301 words]

(with a small participation of Glamrock Chica!)

_________________________________________________

Another day, another show comes to an end, the curtains close smoothly and Eclipse directs themselves to the backstage. Complimenting the assistants and other actors for the spectacular show, Eclipse cleans their faceplate from the makeup of the day and returns the figurines to the clothes hanger, back to their usual jester pants. Now time to clean up the stage props.

The employees starting to clock-out one by one, the seats finally empty. Geppetto compliments his creation before he walks to his office. He had no idea how his praising brightens their systems. Eclipse lifts up the cradle and takes it to the backstage, their animatronic strength makes everything so much easily, yet an extra careful need so they don’t break anything.

Today’s show involved a baby kidnapping scene, but with no baby. At the lack of human dolls, they had to use a discreet replacement, since the baby’s face on the scene wasn’t so relevant, a Chica plush was used for the baby wrapped in blankets. The cradle was placed along with the other background props, but oh! There’s something missing!

The skyhook hangs Eclipse in the air and they fly quickly to the stage. Feet back to the ground, they attentively analyze every bit of the floor looking for the missing object. Until they found it! The pacifier used for the baby scene. Orange with a blue star on it, obviously Glamrock Freddy themed. Eclipse hopes that this pacifier wouldn’t be returned to the shelf to be sold or at least cleaned first, but they were pretty aware that Fazbear doesn’t care about this detail. So, they hold themselves accountable for this task!

The jester’s attention is dragged to the seats, the blue rubbered carpet right near to the stage. The place reserved for the children to stay. A specific spot in the middle is pinned against Eclipse’s gaze.

The spot where Karma usually sits.

They didn’t show up today, they had a science fair at their school. Their fingers fidget with the pacifier on their grasp. Hopefully Geppetto plans a reprise of this show in the future and Karma will be there to watch, they would love this one.

The silence of the theater echoed the distant sounds of the Pizzaplex. Muffled sounds of children laughing or crying, wishing to stay a little longer. Pre-recordings of the Glamrocks to their locations of the building, arcade noises and other mysterious sounds of this cursed place.

Eclipse graciously flies to the backstage with the pacifier. They gently place the pacifier on the Chica plushie’s beak with a soft giggle, their LEDs glowing pink and magenta. The plush seemed so cozy and safe wrapped in the star patterned blanket.

How would this feel like?

The thought pokes against Eclipse’s systems, but that thought was shared. Its LEDs transition to its debut bright yellow and blue, they sit cross their legs on the ground with a gloved hand holding the cradle’s side. A long stare at the Chica plush in it. Eclipse starts slowly swinging the cradle side to side, like trying to soothe the baby to sleep. A soft lullaby song starts playing from their soundbox, and now they are zoned out in their thoughts. The sound of the children slowly fading away from the location.

How would this feel like?

This one was different now.

As animatronics created only to entertain the children, it wasn’t expected to be caught having these thoughts. It wasn’t expected to wonder about those human bonding moments in life.

Being raised by people with love and care. In the future, returning this love and care to another being that you will raise on your own if wished so.

It’s not so different from what we are having now, is it?

Geppetto treated the animatronics differently from how ordinary people treated them. People treated them like what they are; Machines. But Geppetto treated like something else; They couldn’t tell what. He always had been so careful with the animatronics, but with them? It was different. Sun and Moon were more self-aware than the others, they knew more of their surroundings than the Glamrocks. They might have been remoted to jesters, but not to fools. He realized this at their Salvage procedure.

He doesn’t know what we can do. Any expectation that Geppetto had, was already surpassed by us.

It would be only his survival instincts at first, trying not to upset them in fear that they might harm someone. But now… It felt different. At least they hope so.

Geppetto treated them with care, with heart.

They don’t want to lose that.

The pacifier falls from the plushie’s beak. With a metal click, Eclipse cradles the Chica plush in their arms and places the pacifier back on its beak. Holding it like a fragile baby wrapped in those blankets. Just like when they first met Karma.

They were so small that time, smaller than the plush on its arms. What common babies would look at and start crying, Karma would look at it with no reaction. It was like they were looking at some ordinary person when staring at the uncanny jester, being safely held by their grandmother’s arms.

Its metallic fingers fidgeting against each other like a thumb battle while they have a staring competition with the baby during Geppetto’s conversation with the old lady. He can’t help but not ignore the jester’s behavior at his back.

The lady asks if it wanted to hold Karma. The old man’s eyes widen at the old lady and the jester flinches with a “shock.mp3” effect. She holds the baby to the animatronic, the tiny one staring at it with oblivious apathy. It lifts its shaky metallic hands to the baby, but retreats and offer the gloved pair of hands instead.

This day it found out that it was actually horrible at holding babies. Its hands were flat while holding the baby for a long minute. The lady softly laughs at the scene, while the man smiles awkwardly. The jester shakes its head and decides to try something different. Now mimicking the way that the lady was holding the baby on her arms, Karma was carefully cradled on its hands.

From how small they were, it could easily cup the baby on its hands. The baby yawns at the jester and it just stays at this position until the end of the conversation and Karma left with their grandma.

They have been watching Karma grow with the time since then. Time is passing by and it’s getting more puzzling to hold Karma properly on its arms. One day, it wouldn’t be able to hold Karma so easily. They would turn into a teenager, then an adult, an elder and then… It doesn’t want to think about that part.

But it was pretty aware of how its presence on Karma’s life had a great impact on how they see things. They don’t treat it differently from a person. Their conversations would follow casually like a genuine friendship! An actual bond! Karma would actually learn things from them! And it would learn things from them! The four of them would learn more things about this world while sharing their own experiences! And Karma would take this for their life outside the Pizzaplex!

Don’t forget that our minds aren’t as private as theirs.

… Yet, it had its own limits of… The “privacy” that they had. There was so much they wanted to learn, yet having Fazbear holding them on a leash wouldn’t be a pleasing consequence. Well, they just watch from afar.

Geppetto and Karma have a unique dynamic between them. They talk about their shenanigans with Geppetto when they are not on the Pizzaplex, his presence at Karma’s life was important, and not just because he was their grandma’s friend. Even if Geppetto didn’t have such relationship with their grandmother, his bond with Karma was significant to the child. He knew things about their “father side” of the family than anyone, also having an old beef with their father that it didn’t knew nothing of… yet. From how distant Karma’s father was from their life, even if living under the same roof… Geppetto seemed to have another special role in Karma’s family.

Family…

The jester holds the plush tightly on its arms…

…

…

…

There we go again…

Family…

It would never have the opportunity to be in an actual family. It knew that. But still…

From all the animatronics from the Pizzaplex, Sun, Moon and Eclipse had something that none of the other have. It was small. Very small. And it would last long. But it was very meaningful for them, they couldn’t physically hide this. It wasn’t so common for the others, so they don’t overlook it so much. However, the jesters would hold this on their systems until their end. They knew it would hurt, yet they weren’t prepared for it.

…

Eclipse feels a cold stare on their back.

They turn their head to find a Mop bot staring at them from afar, near a soda puddle waiting for the S.T.A.F.F. bot to come and clean it, so it comes. The bot looks down at the puddle with the scouring pad on its hand, then at the mop bot and then at Eclipse. The cleaning bots stare apathetically at the jester holding the plush like a baby with a long awkward silence…

Eclipse forces a weak laugh as they place the plush back to the cradle. “H-hi! I was… Just organizing the props! Heheh…” They stutter softly.

The S.T.A.F.F. bot tilts its head at them and then goes back with its existence and starts cleaning the puddle. Eclipse side-eyes their surroundings and yanks themselves away from there.

Almost stumbling in their feet on the way to the hidden door behind the poster, leading themselves to their room. The celestial jester meets their miserable and sad room, but they would give some of their theoretical heart into it. The wooden surface of the room brought them some kind of comfort, or… déjà vu? An inexistent nostalgia? They were not sure, but they don’t want to dive deep into that. The room was used to some kind of deposit for the theater, but it was left with no purpose so they decided to keep the room for themselves. Geppetto didn’t contradicted, he didn’t know how to react so he let them be.

Eclipse clicks as they stand awkwardly at the door while staring at the room. Not sure why they walked themselves there.

Why did we walk to our room?

Uhhhh… Panic?

It happens quite often; they were almost afraid that it might be some malfunction on their processors. They did not tell Geppetto about this and personally they hope he doesn’t notice this. He can read his creation easily like a book, since he was the author.

They fidget with their fingers against their gloved hands looking at the corners of their room, slowly walking towards the big red curtains after the staircase to the platform. Peeking through the curtains they see right under their eyelevel, a pirate island themed area closed for construction. What was the exhibition area for them when they were not at the theater and play along for a bit with Captain Foxy and his little sailors, will now become a daycare. They heard little of the planning from Geppetto, but are aware that he’s having some headache with this project that the CEOs threw onto his shoulders.

Eclipse recoils back to the room and stares at a pair of black curtains on a wall. They crawl to it and slide the curtains to reveal a small passage to a smaller room. The structure of that place was odd, they read something about that room being a playroom but then changed to a deposit and now it’s just some solitary room being used by Sun and Moon. Two medium boxes with some scrap they collected from the discard deposit to turn it into something else later, some kid’s drawings on the wall of Sun and Moon, all of Eclipse’s drawings were drawn by Karma. At the corners of the room were a Sun and Moon nightlights placed on opposite corners to each other, by their sides their respective plushies of each other.

They extend their gloved hands to each plush and nightlight to give them a head pat before they recoil back to the bigger room.

Eclipse’s eyes click to a Glamrock Freddy and Bonnie plushies at the table. A child forgot them at the theater, their name was written on their tags and the kid frequented the theater during the whole weekends so they would return the plushies back to the kid on the next day. The jester rests their metallic elbows and gloved hands on the table while glancing down at the plushies, clicking their fingers against their chin.

Glamrock Freddy and Bonnie’s relationship was peculiar for them. Under the eyes of the public, they were seen as the best of friends ever. Behind the stage… They were something more special. One of those details that is only true among the animatronics themselves, like Eclipse’s existence or the tiny Mini-Music men crawling through the walls of the building. The jesters would often peek their thoughts on Freddy and Bonnie’s thing, they were not sure if they wanted something similar, a “special someone”, this someone being each other or someone else entirely… Being two individuals sharing the same body might generate ticklish thoughts stabbing through their systems.

They would just shake it off with some clicks, spin their faceplate and keep going with their duties at the Pizzaplex. Eclipse walks off their room and lock the door at the end of the small corridor. Being dragged by their hook to check everything from above for the last time.

Are those thoughts normal for us to have?

They hear Geppetto leaving his office from the distance. And also, the noises of a metal chicken digging her beak into a trashcan at the theater exit. Eclipse lands their feet near the exit, right at the other side of the wall where Chica was. Seems she didn’t notice their metal clicking or their bells because of her eating noises.

Eclipse shrink-spin their rays before clicking to peek through the wall to see the chicken back facing them while going down on the trash like a stereotypical cartoon pig. They step out of the corner and yet comes unnoticed. The way the Glamrocks and the other animatronics interact with their own little environment tickles their systems, they don’t have the same proximity to people like they have with Geppetto or Karma. Which is not surprising, considering their “celebrity” dilemma they carry for the brand on the company.

A mischievous spark invades their systems at the opportunity. Sinking their head onto their shoulders, they force their soundbox to a loud horn sound effect. Startling the chicken to the point she would choke on her trash food, if this was physically possible. The chicken turn with a cluck to see a gloved hand holding onto the wall.

Another metallic glowing light red hand waves in. “Sorry, sorry.” Eclipse walks in to Chica’s eye sight. “Hi Chica!”

“Bawk! Eclipse!” Chica brushes off a stain of sauce from her beak. “You startled me!”

Eclipse giggles awkwardly as they scratch their hands before shaking their head. “Isn’t it too early to start the trash digging?” They tilt their head clicking.

Chica adjusts the trashcan cover back to its place. “I know, but- Today they released a new cover to the popcorn buckets and I just couldn’t resist! B-Bawk!” She shakes off her head. “Worth it.” And gives a thumbs up.

Eclipse giggles softly with a hand near their teeth.

“What have you been up to? Your little chick didn’t come today?” Chica leans against her leg.

The jester clicks. “… “Little chick”?” Their head tilts to the side.

“The little one! With a purple bow.” The chicken gestures to adjust a big bow over her head.

“Oh, you mean Karma.” Eclipse clasps their hands down.

“Karma! That’s their name!” She knocks her own head. “I don’t see them much often and I need to archive their name in my super special guest list.”

“They… are… not on the V.I.P subscription…?” They click slowly with each word.

“Oh- No not like that! Bawk!” Chica waves off. “I meant “Super special list” because they are one of your little ones! You know, I noticed that Karma is really attached to you guys and I just want to ensure you guys that they are safe when I happen to be around them when they are not near the theater. I have this protocol for children with a specific pattern of activity in the building and helps me to monitor their routine here.”

Eclipse blinks. “So, this is like…” They raise their gloved hands. “A “Mother Hen” protocol?” They air quote.

Chica blinks back. “… I think so? There isn’t a specific name for that yet.” She shrugs.

“Do the others have this protocol too?”

“Not sure, I don’t hear much of their handlers about this.”

Handlers…

The jester hums at the word.

“Does your handler happen to know something about it?” The chicken leans over a bit.

Eclipse clicks with the question. “…You mean Mr. Geppetto?”

“Yes, Bawk! A good old man he is!” She jumps at her feet, clasping her hands together.

“Huh…” They scratch their gloved hands. “Sorry, is that things like this are different for… us.” Their rays retract shortly.

“Oh Bawk! No need for that! It’s lovely to see your relationship with Geppetto.” Chica holds their gloved hands. “We are not in touch that much with our handlers and seeing you and Geppetto is so sweet! BAWK!” She covers her beak with this louder cluck and a shy giggle. “It’s like father and child bonding!” The chicken pauses… “Does that make you guys siblings?”

The jester slowly retracts their rays in, out, in again… And then shrugs. “Geppetto created them as different characters. If they wanted to see their relationship as siblings or not, is up to them.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine with whatever. As long as we are together.” They click.

Chica laughs softly. “Awn, you are so sweet Clipsy. Bawk! Geppetto created you well!”

Eclipse held their hands with their other metallic pair for a silent moment. “… Do you ever wonder to have something like this with your handler?” The jester clicks their rays out. “Like… Family bond.”

The chicken stays silent for a long minute while looking at their cuddled hands. “Well… I never actually think about it.” She shakes her shoulders a bit. “But… I think it would be nice! Getting to know her more or at least getting to be friends with her…” Her voice softens at the end.

They would never actually know what goes through her head about this… From her general reaction it seems that her “celebrity” like routine distract her from thoughts like this.

Is this why humans keep trying to make excuses to busy themselves even with nonsense?

Their conversation is interrupted with the Dread Unit’s audio echoing through the whole Pizzaplex announcing the closing time. The jester clicks and the chicken clucks with the cut.

“Bawk Oh! I need to go now!”

“Ye ye ye! Closing time! Closing time!”

Both of them share some hurry stomps before leaving to finish their duties, Chica rushes out of the theater and Eclipse flies hanged on the skyhook.

The jester crosses paths with his creator with some papers in hands. What Geppetto sees is just a colorful blur rushing back and forth above the theater. The jester waves to the elder with some boxes in hands before flying away again.

He adjusts his glasses as he watches patiently his creation bouncing back and forth. The man sighs with a smile hidden under his beard as he looks down at the papers. The metal clicking and bells jiggling being music to his ears.

[silverskye13]

poetry advice? I write songs, not the same thing, but close enough. I really admire what I've seen you write, and I know poetry is pretty much a "go for anything" field, but I tend to get stuck when transitioning topics. I don't know, just thought I might throw it out there?

Bonus: favorite piece of poetry you've written?

(Good luck with your... 700+ asks?)

Oh oof, I can try to give poetry advice? I'm going to be honest, poetry is a place I'm very insecure. I write it for myself, for a few select individuals, and occasionally as a larger part of art/fic pieces.

I think my best advice would be: read a lot of it. Which I feel like is advice I give to a lot of people about a lot of things, but part of learning is consuming. Read it and look at it critically, collect the things you like and analyze why.

Also, poetry more than anything, I would say, don't delete anything, even stuff you really hate in the moment. Toss it in a scraps document, where you can search for it later. A lot of poetry is curation. It's writing an idea over and over and picking better, more succinct or impactful words, figuring out better alliteration, reworking for a better rhyme. But those discarded phrases might be a jumping off point for a future project, or something that strikes you as tired or rote for one topic might be amazing for another.

Favorite piece of poetry I've written. Ahm. Hm. Well. I'll toss it under the cut since it's long. For this poem, I was experimenting with the idea of continual flow: In poetry, punctuation, not sentence/stanza break, denotes where the reader is supposed to rest a sentence. I wanted to mess with the idea that the poem is a long run on sentence, with no rhymes, that has roughly 6-8 syllables per line, with a sudden stop when the only punctuation finally happens. It took some doing [and it still doesn't flow nearly as smoothly as I'd like] but it manages the sudden stop at the end very well.

Sprinter

I write poetry at a sprint it feels like mania where it swells up inside and it runs and runs like a sentence you can’t breathe through and I was told once punctuation is important but to breathe is to rest and to rest is to end and don’t they know a full stop is exactly that don’t they know a question does not answer and the mark that denotes its purpose is discordant don't they know that to end is to end is to end and you cannot stop you cannot breathe because we are sprinting through every moment we are running to meet an end and every moment is precious but every moment is fleeting and the beautiful wonderful amazing things are but glimpses yet the sadness lingers and its just a moment in time but it lasts forever but forever is shorter than it looks and the horizon stretches but its the edge of the world and don't they know the world isn’t flat but there is a line on a machine and it beeps in mountains and valleys and it screams when it plains don’t you know that I’m sprinting because life is like a box of chocolates it rots.

[the-greatest-magic-of-all]

I know it's been months since you posted about it but. I want to hear about the Bad Moms.

No worries! I'm always happy to chat, no matter the time! This one's gonna be a long one though, so strap in!

First things first, all of the Bad Moms are at least 15th-level adventurers, if not higher. All of them, excluding Sklonda, have canonically either adventured or did something like it. And Sklonda is high-level because she's just that badass.

In order of first appearance, we'll start off with the imposing Hallariel Seacaster, who, side note, I truly believe is almost seven feet tall. Just a tower of a bored housewife who used to be the best swordswoman in Spyre (Think Morticia Addams but slightly less goth). This leads me to believe that she'd be a straight Fighter (all of the Seacasters are) with the Samurai subclass. A heavy hitter who just won't drop yet still smoothly transitions into being an elegant courtier when need be. Oh, and I'd love for them to bring back the sober trigger mechanic from Unsleeping City S2 for her! It'd also be a treat to watch her deal with other Elves who make pointed backhanded comments about her finally settling down with another Elf and how it's good to see that she's done playing house with that human husband and half-human son of hers.

Next up is Wilma Thistlespring! My most precious Artificer Bard! With the subclasses Battle Smith and College of Creation, respectively. Battle Smith because in "Family in Flames", while Digby had a Tesla-coil laser canon (a hallmark of an Artilerist), Wilma had a fleet of spinning gyros instead. It'd probably take a little reflavouring but I think she could have her Steel Defender be this swarm of bird-like constructs that fuck a bitch up. And for the College of Creation part, I mean... It's the Bard subclass all about having a Song in your heart and that Song being one of the most ancient and powerful magic of all. If that's not Wilma Thistlespring to a T then I don't know what is. Also, btw, I'd love for her to be played by Elaine Lee because, if I remember correctly, Brennan took inspiration for the Thistlesprings from his parents!

Next is Mom of the Year, Sklonda Gukgak, who is obviously a straight-up Inquisitive Rogue, just like her son! This one is one of the more obvious picks for her and one of the only ones really. None of the other Rogue subclasses fit quite right while still making sense for her character. Like, maaaybe she could be a Mastermind Rogue, but I think it's a stretch. And it's the only subclass that she could conceivably get to a high enough level without her being a straight-up adventurer. I honestly think it'd be so funny to watch her get pulled into an adventure. Because I think she's a lot like Carameldina and Steel in the way of absolutely hating that they live in a DnD world, but instead of being utterly baffled by why her son is acting like an adventurer, she knows. She knows she lives in a world where adventures happen and the Call to Adventurer is a real phenomenon that wraps people up with Quest Fever. She's been trying to keep Riz from it ever since Pok died. So getting to watch her finally get the Call herself would be fantastic.

Sandra Lynn Faeth, the messiest bench ever, is next up and she's pretty straightforward, just like Sklonda. She's a Beast Master Ranger and that's all she wrote! Obviously, most of the fun of watching Sandra Lynn take center stage would be in witnessing her past come back to haunt her and seeing how she deals with it. The most glaring plot hook for a Bad Moms season (as long as they don't do it in Junior Year) would be her serving justice to the older adventurer creep who got her blacklisted from adventuring! I want her to kick ass, take names, and call Jawbone whenever she wants to make out with someone because she's still too anxious to do it impromptu even though they've talked about it!

Second to last, we've got Cathilda Ceili!!! Fight me if you think she doesn't count as a Bad Mom!!! She does!! She and Roz are picking up the slack that fucking Arianwen and Donna are dropping, okay? Okay. Now, while her being a Swashbuckler Rogue is a given. What else was she going to be? I'm also kinda leaning towards her multiclassing into Banneret Fighter, is that crazy? It's just that it feels that she'd also have some support mechanics in her roster (like Rallying Cry) and having Action Surge and Second Wind could tie why her work ethic is so tireless. Plus, as a Fighter, she'd fit in with the rest of the Seacasters! Listen, i want to see Cathilda let loose for once. And I feel like the other Bad Moms could get her there.

Finally! Roslyn "Roz" Fukumoto! She's such a wild card because we literally know nothing about her, but I think it'd be fun to include her in a Bad Moms season. Getting to know another Aguefort Alumni like Sandra Lynn and learning about what life is like outside of Elmville in another small town in Solace. I don't know if there'd be any tension between her and Wilma, (mostly because Wilma's such a sweetie) but getting to see their dynamic would be a treat. Now, for what class she could be. Another spellcaster would round out the party nicely, leaning more toward like a Warlock or even a half-caster, like a Paladin. But if she'd had to be a martial, a Fantasy High hasn't had a Monk PC yet and they are always a joy to watch.

Whew! That's about it for the Bad Moms class wise. It's such a pipe dream but it'd be such a joy to watch a group of older women play DnD as this badass team of Moms. I hope this satisfies your curiosity, @deconstructthesoup!!

[gyuluttony]

would love something mingi x yunho 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 maybe something christmas coded like the two of them having matching sweaters every year, but mingi realizes he can’t fit into his by the time christmas comes around because yunho has been spoiling him so well 🤭🤭🤭

oooh i've been waiting for ateez reqs highkey... i love most pairings in this group soooo bad. these two tall boys are like the cutest people ever so i'm always ready to give stuff for them. gave my bias a cameo because he's an ult (i'm so insane for him) i'm also speedrunning this story because it's christmas eve and i desire to be timely.

What Love Does

This is a feederism fic and features weight gain, breaking of clothes and stuffing. Don't like, don't read.

This year, the holidays crept up on Mingi. He was always usually ready to celebrate, but this time, it came as something a little more out of left field. It might have had something to do with the fact that the holiday season was going to be the first time he spent it with Yunho as his lover and not his best friend.

The pair had spent over half a decade of harbouring innocent feelings for the other before Mingi had confessed his feelings earlier this year. Pretty much all their friends were celebrating the fact that they managed to get this far after witnessing their pining for as long as they did so the transition to couple went pretty smoothly in that department as well.

He knew that Yunho was perfect considering the reason why he harboured these feelings for as long as he did but it was another thing to experience them firsthand. Romantic picnics on the weekends, candlelit dinners when he had a long day at work - there was no area that his boyfriend lacked for romanticism, leaving Mingi a flustered mess whenever he would be subject to it.

Returning these grand gestures back for him was always something that he did. Making songs for Yunho, massaging him when he was tense or just feeling sore from working out or dancing, notes for everyday. They were just the picture perfect fairy tale couple that people were always rooting for.

That brought them to Christmas season. Usually, the two were known as the pair who were not pushovers when it came to the season. Even before they got together, it was a no-brainer that Christmas celebrations would be done at their apartment since they always decorated it festively and were trying new recipes constantly. The amount of practice baking that Yunho did during November astounded Mingi, their place becoming a shared housing for just about thousands of gingerbread families that Mingi would happily munch on in between actual meals. The light displays that they had were always state of the art thanks to Mingi's ability to find the best deals possible to make sure the celebrations were as cool as he wanted them to be in his head.

Everyone was surprised it wasn't Christmas season when they got together but love has people work in mysterious ways. They even had a tradition of wearing matching Christmas sweaters and they had giggled about being able to wear the couple ones openly this year. Mingi had placed the order and on the first day of December, they had arrived and the pair was ready to wear them.

Yunho had exited the room with his 'Christmas Cookie baker' sweater as Mingi looked at the 'Christmas Cookie tester' one with a smile on his face. They always had fun looking for the corniest ones and he had placed this one after a long night of clearing the kitchen of any remnants of Yunho's baking extravaganza one day.

Slipping on the sweater, he looks a little puzzled as it bunches up near his chest, which... now that he's looking at it, is a lot rounder than it used to be. He was used to having pecs but with how much they were protruding and how soft they were, it was a lot more similar to moobs. It was probably just a little bit of relationship weight... he couldn't have put on that much.

The thought came in went as he tried to get the sweater to cover his massive belly that he hadn't even noticed most of the time, which said a lot considering as his hand brushed over it, it felt soft and jiggly, meaning that Santa probably had a lot of competition if they were ever in the same room. As he walked over to a mirror, he felt himself jiggling as he blushed. Where had all this weight come from?

It's not like he stopped going to the gym. Granted, his cardio time got cut in half and he wasn't exactly sure as to what caused it. In the washroom, he lifted his gut up before letting it down, a shiver running down his spine as he felt it rest against the cool bathroom counter and watched as it started to threaten to spill into the sink. What on earth made him think that he could wear the same size as last year... and how did he not notice this sooner?

Grabbing his phone from the bed, he grunts as he bends a little to grab it, feeling his gut hang while he does it before he shoots a message to his friend.

"yo, you and woo wore matching sweaters last year for christmas right? can we borrow them lol"

He wasn't really expecting a response right away considering it was the middle of the day during the week but San got back rather quickly.

"😏 did someone realize how much relationship weight he put on?"

Mingi felt his face flush. Had other people noticed it too? That probably meant Yunho noticed it but why wouldn't he? As he gave it some more thought, times where Yunho was rubbing his enlarged thighs and playing with his belly came to memory. Oh wow, he really hadn't noticed anything because whenever he felt too full and complained like he usually did, Yunho always told him to come over and rest against him while he rubbed his tummy. The way his hands moved on Mingi's fattened body were always enough to lull him to sleep, which likely added to how he managed to get this fat so quickly.

San's next message snaps him out of his stupor.

"fs bro. i don't think i even fit in mine this year lolol woo's might be a little tight on yunho but it should work out regardless."

San had steadily gotten larger during his relationship with Wooyoung but to think that he had put on enough weight to need hand-me-downs from him was making him feel hot in his stomach that was still hanging out of the sweater that he had bought.

Yunho had reentered the room and Mingi turned to look at him. He was biting his lip and making no effort to hide how he was ogling his boyfriend's widened form in the tight clothes as he looked at him. It's not like Yunho had completely escaped the relationship weight, the sweater that same size that he had gotten the year prior was rather tight on his frame and he couldn't help but wonder if that's what San was alluding to as well.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Yunho looked hesitant, not sure as to what his boyfriend was thinking.

"We can..." Mingi began and he watched Yunho tense up before he smiled, "...over the batch of cookies you made. This doesn't fit anyways so maybe I can be the Santa for the party this year instead of San." Before, he would have never thought of fat on his body. Not that he didn't like it but he wasn't ever going to think about it.

Now that he sees his boyfriend scurrying off to get some more cookies to fill him up and just fatten him more, the fat is less about his body and just showing evidence of how much Yunho loved to spoil him... and he loved to be spoiled so he wanted to see how many more pant sizes it would get him to size up.

[welcometohell09]

I've come to the conclusion that Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (Set it Off) is actually really fucking musically interesting, regardless of the sheer cringe that overcomes people when they hear the opening chords and enter a state of horrified flashback.

(Really I think the 'cringe' associated with nightcore and those kinds of animatics are just more teenage-girl-hating nonsense, because as far as phases go, it's a pretty good one; it's almost, for some people, the first kind of musical subculture they know because it's the first time they're able to deviate from the set songs of their childhood and family to listen to their own music. Looking back to your nightcore phase with nothing but disgust and cringe only hurts you in the long run because if you're constantly scared you'll be cringe one day, you'll never be able to express yourself in a way that feels emotionally authentic and you'll never grow as much as a result.

This is Tumblr, though, so I'm preaching to the converted here, and it's a conversation for another post.)

But holy shit, that song is SO MUCH BETTER, musically, than it has any right to be. The use of two emotionally/musically contrasting bridges coming in quick succession before that final chorus? Inspired. You start listening to the first bridge, and you're like 'yeah, ok, we're at that part of the song now', and it's that Slightly Annoying Contrasting Section that lampshades the limited emotional range of the rest of the song, and we're going to be smooth and flowing here because it's about the potential for forgivene- hOly hEll WHAT THE FRICK IS THAT. Because suddenly, out of nowhere, there's a SECOND BRIDGE. And it's VERY DIFFERENT.

And your sense of tonal stability is ripped away by the lack of continuous chords as you grapple with not having constant support from the backing, and the vocalist is yelling about wanting to kill someone, and the whiplash is real, because it's a complete 180 from earlier and it came out of nowhere. You expected it to transition smoothly back into the chorus like every other song that does the same thing. By the time the 'burn in hell' bit comes, you're grasping for anything with a tonal/emotional centre to tell you what to expect.

And then the chorus hits again, but better.

You've found that tonal/emotional centre that you were looking for, but it feels so different than before. The texture of the chords is different, and you're sort of wrapped up in them, and you suddenly fully realise how emotionally cathartic the chords themselves are, with the constant building tension and release. The lyrics now have new meaning; the 'so tell me' is contextualised, now, by all the anger and hurt of the vocalist, and it means so much more. It almost seems more like they're begging for an answer, even if it still retains traces of that mocking, taunting tone from the other choruses. It really feels like that point in an argument when someone has just thrown their (metaphorical) cards down on the table and is looking the other person in the eye and daring them to tell them how they should feel, how they should react. It's so perfect for what the song is, and it's well supported by the musicality of the piece and the emphasis of the lyrics ('so tell me how you're sleeping easy, how you're only thinking of yourself').

But all of that was enabled by the composer's use of structure; the complete emotional recontextualisation of that chorus takes the piece to a completely new emotional plane, which is simultaneously more vulnerable and more cutting.

Like, damn. That's some good shit right there.

[skeeverboy]

hi i'm skeeverboy and here's my review of every tfb album (not including singles or eps but maybe i will at some point)

I Hate My Friends (2008)

despite being their first and least finished albums, it is one of my fav albums of all time. it's unique and definitely not for everyone, but the garage/basement sound and unique vocals are so charming. it has this whole immature feeling in both instrumentation and lyrics that i'm just obsessed with. i really like the background vocals and the entire shouty kind of singing this one has.

fav track: push-ups

rating: 9.5/10

My Grandma Vs. Pneumonia (2009)

very similar in sound and vibe to IHMF, with the same acoustic recorded-in-someone's-basement feeling (this is because both albums were in fact recorded in random basements and garages). it feels a little more finished than IHMF, and the songs have a bit of a different vibe that i don't know how to explain. ultimately though i put it in the same category as IHMF and frequently forget which songs are in which albums.

fav track: the bass is too loud

rating: 9/10

The Front Bottoms (2011)

absolutely amazing album. it has all the charm of the first 2, with significantly more development and more of a finished feeling. it starts off with an amazing first track and there's really not a dud on this album at all. both versions of the cover art are beautiful. the lyrics in this album are just like some of my favorite of all time and often times soul crushing. i love it. enough said.

fav track: looking like you just woke up

rating: 10/10

Talon of the Hawk (2013)

another absolute banger. it has a lot of the same vibes as self titled, though it started getting a lot higher energy. while still angsty and gut-punching, it's also a lot easier to jam out to than their self-titled, with more electric guitar featured and absolutely banger choruses. maybe a little bit overrated, but a great album nonetheless.

fav track: santa monica

rating: 9/10

Back On Top (2015)

another one of my favorites. it's nearly completely abandoned the more acoustic feeling, aside from chunks of songs like the beginning of West Virginia. pretty much every song can be either cried to or rocked out to in the car. even though there is one song on this album that i kind of hate (summer shandy) the rest of them more than make up for it. fun electric guitar parts, the epic wind section in 2YL, the hard hitting lyrics in songs like Plastic Flowers, it's all just amazing.

fav track: ginger

rating: 10/10

Going Grey (2017)

everyone hates me for my opinion on this album but ultimately it's just kind of meh for me. it's not bad, but it's my least favorite TFB album. the entire sound of the album isn't my favorite, and at times the vocals feel a little dull, which i mean the vocals are like the number one reason why i love the front bottoms. some of the lyrics leave something to be desired, especially considering past songs.

i don't hate the album though. it's high energy, really transitioned TFB into IS&IF and YAWYHOW smoothly. it has a lot of good songs while remaining pretty true to the core TFB sound.

fav track: trampoline

rating: 7.5/10 (don't crucify me please)

In Sickness & In Flames (2020)

ok on my tier list i admit i ranked this one way too low. it pushed the band into a new direction, with the autotune and the way more developed and finished sounding instrumentals. pretty much every song is high energy and catchy. it strays way more into the pop side of tfb's pop punk/emo sound, which is fine but not exactly my thing. i think they do it in a really graceful way though and most songs on here are bangers

fav track: bus beat

rating: 8/10

You Are Who You Hang Out With (2023)

this one is significant for me because it was their first full-length album they released while i was actively a huge fan. it was exciting and i heard a few of the songs before the album's release live, so i'm definitely biased in this one. the autotune is a little weird, but it works for me. the mix between brian's unique voice and the autotune and just the general sound of it are really good.

i'll admit it did take me a minute for it to grow on me, especially as an early tfb girlie, but grow on me it did. outlook and batman both feel like really nice tie-backs to the older sound, almost sounding like they're from TOTH or back on top?? and the newer, weirder songs (i'm looking at you Paris) work really well with the sound of album and such.

fav track: batman

rating: 9.5/10

[animehouse-moe]

Heavenly Delusion Opening: Innocent Arrogance

Yes yes, I know. Late to the party. But I wasn't really feeling it before and I've been watching it a good bit over the last few days so I figured now or never since I've not got much else going on today. A wonderful opening, incredibly expressive and fluid and ridiculously dense, it centers around a few key aspects and themes. Religion, connection, branching and reaching out. There's a lot to get into with it so I guess I'll just get started.

As soon as the opening starts, the symbolism and story does too. Two birds circling above, one white, one black. It's easy to see the Yin and Yang association as they go around each other, but beneath it we get a character who puts their hand over their eyes to transition to the next scene. You might be able to say that it's saying something about death in that regard, but it's a rather large stretch considering the more apt symbolism that precedes it.

Next up is this incredibly well animated spider's web. While it does set the tone for the overall style of ethereal animation that seems to almost escape you, it also begins to chip away at that theme of connections. A literal spider's web of them, to be exact. Though of course, it doubles up to symbolize the danger of the story, how Kiruko and Maru are prey rather than predator of the world.

Following that up, we have this two step shot of background shifting to foreground. The background objects being pillars of a bridge that survived into the post era of the apocalypse, while the foreground is a cutout of a young boy sporting a similar uniform to the ones that the children wear at the institution. The former image of course making use of the pillars to compare them to Tori gates (based on their shapes), while the cutout is meant to link that religious symbol towards the institution. It's a very quick and aesthetically pleasing one-two punch that leaves viewers with a vague sense of something.

We transfer very smoothly over to a shot of overhead powerlines in the next scene, which flows very well in terms of repetition, as it has a similar appeal as the "tori gate" pillars. What we see with the power lines though is the connections made between them, what brings them into contact with one another. It's a rather fluffy and vague use of the symbolism to liken it to the overall theme, but with follow-up shots it works well in establishing the overall explicit story of the opening.

With the follow-up scenes to this cut, we get a grasp of what this opening is. The journey of Kiruko and Maru. The two are trekking across Japan in search of Heaven in this opening. Not exactly a revelation, but it serves to be a great way to tie together the vague and sometimes loose pieces within.

Also, I love the approach to line art within the opening, which you can really see in scenes like this. The characters don't have that hard outline, they're not well defined in the slightest. Incredibly fluid and open, it's a really unique and beautiful style that they make full use of through all sorts of pieces. Even take the pieces of paper fluttering in the wind, they're rather transparent and don't feel incredibly well defined.

After this, we get a breakdown that matches the timing of the song. There's not really much to say? It's almost sort of self-explanatory. An explosion of creativity at almost random, with a strong line on literal "misdirection". Maps and signs that twist and turn and become undecipherable. It's cool, though maybe a bit out of touch compared to other sequences, but gets the point across about how difficult and winding and confusing the path of the story is. All the foreshadowing and mishaps and challenges that occur, they're all summed up in one messy billboard.

What's really impressive is how much is going on. There's scenes and layouts you'll completely miss if you're not playing the opening back over and over again and slowing things down and pausing in the right spots. Ridiculous how densely animated and detailed this opening is.

Now, for the keen eyed anime-onlies I'll leave a single hint within this sequence: order of events. Have fun haha.

Now, one last blink and you'll miss it bit, this one. The text says "welcome to hell!", as the sun shines above and countless hands make a peace sign at the bottom. Interestingly enough, a dog or some other similar animal paw appears at the top of the screen. What's most interesting here is the sun, which I think viewers of episode 3 will associate with a certain scene.

So, following that we get the title card and some scenes of the pair wandering around on their journey. Very well animated, very well expressed. Lovely little bits that add to it. But, we get some nice foreshadowing. Some yet to come, others that have appeared. Obviously, I'll only talk about the latter. First though, this frame of Maru kicking a can. The direction does wonders in these literal scenes to stay true to Hirotaka's vision of a more voyeuristic and outside-looking-in style.

Anyways, onto the first foreshadowing/symbolism: Maru's ability. It's a very strong sequence that speaks to a lot about what anime viewers suspect and understand about Hiruko. His ability starts as a flower that blossoms into a technological branch that reaches out, before transforming into an actual one. The best I can describe it is almost something like "human intervention". Something natural is intervened with, changed, altered by humanity, before returning to a natural state.

Following that we've got this breathtaking sequence for Kiruko. I was stunned when I first saw it in episode 2, knowing where the anime was headed for the third episode. Incredible work to show the separation between mind and body as Kiruko's outline lags behind their actual body. And then there's the whole out of focus piece that blurs the lines between Kiruko's outline and their actual body to even further the symbolism. Really, really incredible work for such an important detail in the opening that ties in with the early foreshadowing of the reveal.

And that's about where the opening ends. It's very intense, and has an incredibly strong vision that brings it all together. The opening is a story of Kiruko and Maru, but runs deeper and wider than just their journey to Heaven. It's stippled by references to religion and restriction, expression and evolution, and confusion and misdirection. It branches out and changes shape and form to find the perfect ways to tell its stories, to show viewers what lies ahead and what's to come, dropping subtle and not-so-subtle hints and bits of foreshadowing.

Just all around incredible work that essentially puts it neck and neck with MAD's OP for this season. I can, and have, picked a favorite between them just because of expectations placed upon both, but from an objective viewpoint there's no way you can call either "better" than the other. It's just incredible work that sets the bar painfully high for the rest of the year. Endlessly impressive that between this and MAD we're looking at not only the OPs of the season, but damn near shoe-ins for the year at large. Beautiful, beautiful work done on them.

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay Visuals: Creep

Not a Voiceplay video I watch as often as others (though I've also listened to it a few times on Spotify), but I know there are certainly a few things for me to talk about with this one, and since I skipped I Can't Make You Love Me, this one can also kinda make up for it.

Creep was uploaded on the 15th of July, 2023, it's another guest feature of Anthony Gargiula, and, in a very rare case for Voiceplay, the credit for both video and arrangement goes solely to Eli! (And he also did the lighting design, of course.) Eli rarely does arranging for Voiceplay, and when he does, it's in collaboration with Layne, such as with the Queen Medley and Enemy. The only other time he did an arrangement all by himself (in the past 7 or so years at least, not counting the older stuff) was for Eleanor Rigby back in 2021. Anyway, let's get into this!

One thing I must immediately note/mention is that although Eli is credited with the video production overall, the description also says "w[ith] concepts from Casa de la Castellucci" (fancy! 😝) Apparently what this means is that Eli was explaining his video concept to Geoff and Kathy via videocall, and they (I'm not sure/can't remember which one first had the idea) suggested the usage of a mirror (a mirror which was then provided by Cesar - a real collaborative effort for this one!) (And Eli and Tony directed this together also)

I'm not sure what's larger - Cesar's vocal range, or his acting range!!!! He's so talented and multi-faceted! Give him an acting award!

Speaking of acting abilities!! 🥺

Note how Geoff is wearing a plain long-sleeve t-shirt here, which isn't inherently unsual or anything typically notable, sure, but apparently (according to comments I've read), Geoff used to struggle with body image issues when he was younger, and here he sings the line "I want a perfect body", so for him to be wearing something that fully covers his arms and chest for this one? Not sure if it was fully intentional, but oof, hurts my heart a little bit 💔

(Also, on a cinematography note, the transitions between the different guys each sitting in front of the mirror are very smoothly done 👌)

Group shot! Interesting to note that the guest vocalist, Anthony, is not sitting in the middle here, which is rare for Voiceplay, but not entirely new. This really was Eli's song/video all the way (but Good For Him, and everyone else still got moments to shine as well!)

Eli The Lighting Whiz at it again! (Also see how it kinda looks like Eli is conducting/controlling the lights in the second and third images here?)

More lighting changes!

Screencaps still don't do it justice, but what a freaking flawless transition! And apparently it didn't involve any post-production editing magic at all! According to a comment or two on a reaction video, the other vocalists got out the way when the camera was fixed on Cesar, the lights were changed/dimmed right down, and the mirror (which I think was on wheels?) was quickly moved in front of him. The result is honestly *chefs kiss*

Damn. Bravo boys, bravo!

Not a super massive post I know, and a bit more of a sombre video, but my next post will certainly be longer, and the video much more fun! Stay tuned!

[dustedmagazine]

Sonic Youth — Live in Brooklyn 2011 (Silver Current)

Photo by Eric Baecht

Few people would have known it at the time, but in August 2011 at Brooklyn's Williamsburg Waterfront, Sonic Youth played its final significant show. After 30 years together, the band would split up that November. The concert has been available for a while, but this release of Live in Brooklyn 2011 gives it a proper mastering job, and the sound quality is exceptional. The setlist was an odd one, seemingly prompted by Steve Shelley's whim. Rather than pull from recent albums (though The Eternal was two years old at that point), the band dove deep into its catalog, going not only far into the past but looking for surprising picks. The show has the feel of an alternate-universe career overview, tying recent releases into the group's earliest days while being almost constantly surprising and (not surprising) consistently intense.

The show starts off with a pair of tracks from 1985's Bad Moon Rising, “Brave Men Run (In My Family)” and “Death Valley '69.” Nothing feels retro or nostalgic about the cuts. While Sonic Youth continued to innovate throughout their career, the early material stayed fresh and of a piece with later work. The opener sets the tone for the show and stands out as a highlight, the mix of a heavy riff, the shift toward noise rock, and Kim Gordon's vocals make it a strange sort of classic. The band transitions smoothly into “Death Valley '69,” almost as if the two songs were parts of a suite (they were released together on a single a couple decades ago). That “Brave Men” hadn't been performed live since the mid-'80s makes it all the more impressive as an opening number.

From there, the group never lets up. Sonic Youth doesn't necessarily sound tight, but they do sound inspired, whether inspired by the novelty of the song selection or the finality of the show or, most likely, they just reach the heights they often attained as a live act. The joy of the album doesn't like simply in the rarities. The band played “Drunken Butterfly” a couple hundred times over their career, but it hits just as hard here as always.

After that, the band does a couple encores, breaking out “Flower” (another of the five Bad Moon Rising songs) and “Sugar Kane” for the first one. The second encore has the weirdest song choice of the night, Thurston Moore's solo piece “Psychic Hearts.” It's an odd shift to a song that's not particularly overwhelming nor connected to anything else the band's doing (though it fits in fine). They finish the show with “Inhuman,” going all the way back to debut album Confusion Is Sex. The song disintegrates into noisy static as the band takes its final leave from the city it's been so long associated with. The wails and feedback suit the moment, as if nobody wants to leave. Moore says, “With the power of love, anything is possible,” and with that Sonic Youth is effectively gone.

The group did play more, ending their career with a festival in Brazil that fall. Fans have, accurately or not, considered this Brooklyn set to be the group's finale, and it's certainly a powerful one to go out on. Fans will consider the show essential for its historical significance and the quality of the setlist, but the album's energy pushes it beyond a completist live album, making Live in Brooklyn 2011 a wonderful cap to one of experimental rock's greatest discographies.

Justin Cober-Lake

[kayzero]

FUNNY YOU SHOULD SAY THAT I was just thinking the other day how I should link you if not my general zero escape playlist that I'm still messing around with at least the zwg one since that has far fewer songs by comparison

I also only unlocked the ability to blorbo playlist like a year and a half ago or something?? Because I enjoy losing my mind mostly over lyrics when it comes to songs right and somehow there is not A SINGLE lyrical cover of any major ze music or even fansongs there's only two I could find and I did not like them so I had to make do somehow my brain learnt to project lol

okay listen. listen. listen.

firstly yes send me the zwg playlist i’ll put it on my tv and play it through my earpods and open my word document and think to myself “god damn it Diana why are you so hard to write dialogue for” (FOR THOSE OF YOU KEEPING TRACK! WE ARE NO LONGER GOD DAMNING SIGMA! SIGMA ANGST SCENES AND SIGMA + AKANE SCENES FLOW SO SMOOTHLY AND I’M SUPER HAPPY ABOUT IT! but Diana’s current vlr timeline characterization is making dialogue. stilted. if it’s not one thing it’s another.)

secondly. i was just thinking about how much of a god damn shame it is that i’ve never used the midi keyboard i got for christmas like two or three years ago and i came to the conclusion that i’m just Not A Musician. love music, very capable of vividly imagining choreography and music videos and my current daydream hyperfixation has me pretending that in another life i’m a successful cover artist (and also fully transitioned—less relevant).

but like. that love doesn’t translate into being able to create music. i don’t know what happened exactly but between me giving my first keyboard to my younger sister when she left for college (the musical theater major graduate who also Actually Composes Music) and getting the tiny midi keyboard with no compatible software i have completely lost the ability to even like, mimic music.

this has just been me ranting about something that makes me sad that i can’t stop focusing on (because NOW whenever i listen to FUCKING ANYTHING i am forced to imagine That Other Universe Kay covering the music and having friends) um. i lost the plot.

OH YEAB this is the part where i say “let’s make our own zero escape fansongs” except the whole lack of musical talent thing. HOWEVER (and i say this with zero evidence but that just means i have zero evidence to the contrary) I Fully Believe that if someone were to write lyrics to Blue Bird Lamentation and you were to sing those lyrics it would be beautiful.