amidreamingdeadd

chat, Blue Wire is NOT my story, it was written by @blurryvignette on AO3
          	
          	https://archiveofourown.org/works/75095141/chapters/196234836
          	
          	here is the link for part two of the story,
          	i’ll upload it onto here if yall want me to tho

RollerMint31

@ amidreamingdeadd  is literally one of the best fics I have ever read, and the last chapter here wasn't the end of the history, that was heartbreaking
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RollerMint31

@ amidreamingdeadd  God, I didn't know that it wasn't yours. But I think it will be a good idea to upload the rest here, I don't know how many people are reading it, but it will be very nice if you (the link works, but I don't have access to the history for the AO3 invitations thing)
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amidreamingdeadd

chat, Blue Wire is NOT my story, it was written by @blurryvignette on AO3
          
          https://archiveofourown.org/works/75095141/chapters/196234836
          
          here is the link for part two of the story,
          i’ll upload it onto here if yall want me to tho

RollerMint31

@ amidreamingdeadd  is literally one of the best fics I have ever read, and the last chapter here wasn't the end of the history, that was heartbreaking
• Répondre

RollerMint31

@ amidreamingdeadd  God, I didn't know that it wasn't yours. But I think it will be a good idea to upload the rest here, I don't know how many people are reading it, but it will be very nice if you (the link works, but I don't have access to the history for the AO3 invitations thing)
• Répondre

amidreamingdeadd

"air catcher" chapter two, out soon. 
          
          "The next afternoon, sunlight slanted through the tall windows of the campus music room, cutting bright lines across the floor. Dust drifted in the beams, slow and lazy, like it had nowhere else to be. The air smelled faintly of varnish and old sheet music, a blend of time and talent that hung over the instruments stacked neatly against the far wall."

amidreamingdeadd

"air catcher" chapter one out tn at 6pm CST. 
          
          The December air clung to him like a cloak of ghosts, cold, heavy, and unrelenting. It wrapped around his body, soaked into his skin, and seemed to whisper against the back of his neck as he walked. The world was quiet, but not peaceful; it was the kind of silence that felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to shatter. Frost bit at the corners of his lips, his breath leaving him in thin, white trails that disappeared as quickly as they came. Every step he took crunched against the frozen dirt path, echoing too loudly in the emptiness around him. He couldn't remember when the air had started to feel this heavy, when it had begun pressing down on his chest like a confession.