#Also I���m using that new pen!! I really like it I think it makes the lines more clean and thick. I LOVE IT 💥💥

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One TwentyThree

This Chapter is NSFW

Steve blinks awake; something woke him, some movement. Eddie. Eddie’s half flopped across Steve’s back where Steve’s laid on his stomach. He’s kissing his way across Steve’s shoulders, “twen-ty two,” he whispers haltingly to himself, then another soft kiss, “twe-n-ty three.”

Steve stretches, his shoulders still aching from finishing the pool yesterday. Eddie had helped a little, mostly holding the hose and washing down the sides. Even with Jon as an extra pair of hands it had still taken hours. Steve shifts, dislodging Eddie a little, “what you doing baby?”

“Winning.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “how do you mean?”

“Eddidie try more kisses,” he kisses Steve again, “twen-ty four.”

Steve rolls over, “I didn’t realize giving kisses was a competition.”

Eddie darts forward, kissing Steve on the cheek this time, but Steve manages to grab him and get him back, making Eddie giggle, “Eddidie twen-ty five. Stee One.”

“Oh you come here you cheater, I’m gonna’ win.”

Steve sighs as he hangs up the phone. Keith is a prick, and he’s always going to be a prick, who even works at nine in the morning on New Years day? Steve is certain that the store actually closes for New Years day and Keith has invented that shift just to torture Steve.

And he’s on the close on New Years eve which just...sucks. He sighs again. At least that one is with Robin. It’s like he wants to punish both of them.

“Okay Stee love?”

“I’m okay, but I’ve got to go back to work in a couple of days.”

Eddie frowns, “Eddidie work?”

“I...yeah. Maybe. When you’re ready yeah?”

Eddie looks a little sad, but he agrees, “Stee work time calendar?” Eddie goes off and gets a pen before Steve answers, and then waits, watching as Steve writes the shift times he has so far in the boxes on Eddie’s calendar.

Eddie squints at it, “called am p-m?” He says A M like the word, ‘am,’ and Steve knows he really needs to get onto those books Eddie got for Christmas.

“A.M is in the morning, and P.M is the afternoon. The night time.”

“Nine morning, nine night time?” Eddie asks, pointing.

“You got it baby…what do you want to do today?”

Eddie perks up immediately, “drive car?”

“I...yeah. You know what, fuck it, what’s Hopper going to do, arrest us?”

“Fuck it!” Eddie crows back, a massive grin on his face.

“Huh...I don’t know if I should tell you off or not. It feels like I should but that also feels dumb.”

“Feels dumb. Called arrest?”

“Oh it’s…so if Hopper finds someone who does something bad, he locks them away to keep everyone else safe?”

“Someone who...hurts people?” Eddie volunteers cautiously while they get their shoes on.

“Yeah. Yeah like that. It keeps everyone else safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, get your jacket.”

The ruins of Starcourt are pretty comprehensively taped and fenced off...but half the lot isn’t. Eddie eyes the ruin speculatively, “Eddidie in before?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s where you were when I found you.”

Eddie frowns, leaning over to touch Steve’s face delicately, around his eyes, the bridge of his nose,“Stee hurt.”

“I was, but that was ages ago now. I’m fine.”

Eddie accepts that, so Steve sits and explains to him what all the parts of the car do, how to put it in drive, and back into park, and then lets Eddie do it from the passenger seat. Then puts the seat all the way back, letting Eddie lean over to watch his feet, he shows him how to go and how to stop. He doesn’t bother with stuff like indicators yet, not wanting to over complicate things.

Eddie seems alright with all of it, and Steve figures he does trust Eddie; Eddie does pick shit up really really fast.

They swap seats, “okay, so, what do we do first?” Eddie reaches for the key where it hangs in the ignition, “ah ah,” Steve chides. “What’s first?”

Eddie thinks for a second before sheepishly clicking his belt on; Steve does the same, “now?”

“Sure baby, you can go now.”

Eddie starts the car, grinning big as it starts up. Steve watches as Eddie does the brake and carefully puts it in drive, “good?”

“Yeah, go on then, carefully though. Slow.”

“Carefully, slow.”

And Eddie does, the car inches forward, then picks up a little speed. Eddie’s leaning all the way forward in his seat, chest practically pressed against the wheel, both hands studiously at ten and two. They're probably doing all of a brisk walking speed, maybe a jog, but Eddie’s got a massive happy grin on his face. “Okay, turn then,” Eddie does, making random loops across the lot and then back again. “Okay, stop.” Eddie does, carefully shifting his feet. It jolts a little when they come to a full stop, Eddie pressing too sharply.

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay, put her in park.” Eddie does, “okay, good, go on then, go again.”

Eddie does, and they do go a little faster, Eddie slowly gaining confidence.

They stop a few times, Steve explaining about the mirrors and then sets Eddie the challenge of parking the car up between the white lines in the empty spaces.

They go until Eddie’s stomach rumbles audibly, Steve completely having lost track of time, “okay, time to go home.”

Eddie nods agreeably, “home.”

They’re laid on the couch together, Eddie’s holding open one of the kids books he got for Christmas, sounding out the letters and making out the words. He never ceases to amaze Steve with just how fast he picks this stuff up.

Steve helps occasionally, but Eddie seems to be able to, mostly, intuit how the words should sound by working through the letters. He keeps digging Steve with his elbow though, when he shifts to itch his stomach, keeps wriggling around, and it only seems to be getting worse.

“What are you scratching at?” Eddie puts the book down, pulling his shirt up so they can both see; part of Eddie’s stomach looks like it’s peeling, like bad sunburn. It only seems to have been made worse by Eddie’s itching, the skin pink and lined.

Steve hums, “lets go put some cream on that.”

Investigation only revels more patches of dry flaking skin, randomly all over Eddie’s body. Steve was there when Eddie got dressed this morning, so he’s one hundred percent certain that these weren’t here then. The more he looks the more he finds, they’re up Eddie’s back, and under Eddie’s bobble hat looks like the worse case of dandruff Steve’s ever seen.

“I hope you’re not allergic to something.”

“Called allergic?”

“It’s- I. I don’t even know how to explain this,” Steve sighs, “sometimes people...something doesn’t agree with them?” Eddie tilts his head, scratching absently at his thigh, Steve gently pulls his hand away, “don’t itch it. Okay...for some people, just very few, laundry powder makes their skin itchy. For no reason, it just...happens. Or some food. Maybe just one person can’t eat nuts, it’ll make them hurt.”

Eddie frowns, but nods, using his free hand to scratch at his back, so Steve grabs that hand, too.

“We should call Joyce, she might know what to do with the itching.” The cream doesn’t seem to be helping, it’s just making Eddie itchy and greasy at the same time.

“Call Joyce yes.”

“Hello?”

“Oh, hey, Will. Is Joyce home?”

“Sure yeah, just a minute. Can we come over to the store tomorrow? Mike said Nancy said Robin said you’re going back to work tomorrow morning?”

And Steve can hear Mike in his head, ‘and Steve’s at least good for his stupid staff discount,’ “Yeah, yeah sure-”

“Cool so we can come watch stuff tomorrow afternoon?”

“I-yeah,” Steve looks at where Eddie is using a door frame to scratch between his shoulder blades, rubbing back and forth aggressively, “yeah, maybe.”

“Cool, okay, see you tomorrow!”

There’s a moment of quiet, and then, “hello?”

“Oh, hi, Joyce. It’s, uhm...Eddie’s kind of, itchy? Like he’s suddenly peeling all over? Do you know what we could do?”

“Oh...well when the boys had had chicken pox I put them in the bath with some baking soda, that helped?”

“Okay, okay yeah, I’ll give that a go, I just don’t know why this is happening.”

“It does kind of make sense, new born babies peel.”

“They do?” Steve asks, slightly horrified.

“Yeah, yeah, usually happens sort of within the first week, I think. What was his first poop like?”

“I-” Steve stalls for a second, this conversation having just taken a really weird turn, “I don’t know, hang on,” Steve pulls the phone away from his ear, “Eddie?”

Eddie comes over, “Joyce says the peeling is normal, we can go have a bath in a minute, it might make it better, okay?”

“Together?” Eddie asks, and Steve can hear Joyce snickering down the phone, clearly having heard it.

Steve just ignores that whole thing, “what was your first poop like?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, “green. Sticky.”

Really? Steve thinks, green? Steve puts the phone back to his ear, “did you hear that?”

“Yeah, that makes sense Steve, it all tracks. He’s just like a newborn.”

That is...not appealing, Steve can’t help but think.

Eddie’s skin sloughs off like something out of a horror movie. Once lubricated by the warm water, made to feel slick with the baking soda, it comes away in great curling pieces. Eddie picks at himself with his claw like nails, Steve leaning over the edge and getting all the little flakes with a loofah. Steve gets to Eddie’s feet, and Eddie giggles and tries to drag his foot away when Steve gets to the arch, thrashing in surprise.

“You’re ticklish!” Steve tells him, delighted.

“Not,” Eddie insists, almost immediately.

“Alright, so you won’t mind if I-” Steve pins his ankle in the water, using his other hand to tickle Eddie’s foot.

Eddie thrashes, water going everywhere, “stop. No. Stee, Stee, stop,” he can barely get the words out he’s laughing and thrashing so much, but Steve takes mercy on him and doesn’t do it for long.

Eddie’s still laughing after, trying to catch his breath, wriggling his toes and watching in amazement. Once he’s settled down, he reaches into the water, bending a knee to reach and tickle his own foot, then frowning when nothing happens, “Stee? Not ticklish.”

“Oh,” Steve says the picture of innocence, “let me try?”

Eddie nods, watching, and then instantly fighting again, laughing, Steve’s clothes are wet with splashed water, “Stee Stee noooooo,” Eddie wails, but when Steve stops again he’s grinning, all flush and breathless.

“Ticklish,” Steve tells him.

“Stee ticklish?”

“Nope,” Steve lies confidently, there is no way in hell he’s giving Eddie that one.

“Why ticklish time Stee touch, not ticklish time Eddidie touch?”

“I...you know I don’t actually know why you can’t tickle yourself. Just one of those things, I guess,” he says, shrugging, “right I think you’re all done, most of it’s gone, right?”

“Most of it’s gone, right.”

Eddie’s still flaking the last tiny bits as he dries off, but it seems to be pretty much done; Eddie drops his towel in the hamper, and pouts when Steve makes him put his hat in there too, “it’s covered in skin, we can do laundry and you’ll have it back, okay?”

“Okay. Bed now?”

“It’s too early for bed-” Eddie comes and stands in front of Steve, completely naked, pressing himself forward, holding Steve’s hips, “ohhhhh...bed now. Sure, yep, we can do that.”

Eddie grins, peeling Steve’s damp shirt up, Steve lifting his arms to help. Eddie drops it carelessly on the floor, going next for Steve's pants, pulling everything down in one go and letting it drop so that Steve can step out of it and kick it away. Steve takes Eddie by the hips and walks him back towards the bed.

Eddie goes easily, shuffling his way back, Steve crawling on after him to climb between Eddie’s parted legs, keeping his weight off Eddie and on his forearms, leaning down for more hungry kisses.

Steve feels it when Eddie’s dick slips out, the head nuzzling against Steve’s pubic hair as Steve’s own cock starts to firm up, to fill out. Eddie’s dick isn’t as intimidating now Steve knows it can’t bite him, those little nobbles are too small to do anything, and even when it was holding on as tight as it could to Steve’s thumb, during Eddie’s orgasm, it didn’t hurt at all.

Steve reaches down to adjust himself, pulling his hardening cock up to lie against the crease of Eddie’s hip, rather than being trapped pointing down. Eddie’s cock follows Steve’s fingers immediately, and Steve stops a second to pet it, stroking along the length before he goes back to resting on both arms, leaning in for more kisses.

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, parting his legs naturally to accommodate Steve as he settles in, Eddie drawing his knees up a little. The position is close enough that it makes Steve think...makes him remember a thought he'd had from the first time, “can we try something?”

“Eddidie try,” Eddie replies easily.

“Okay, but I need to make you come first, alright?” Eddie nods, clearly very happy with that plan.

Steve hums, thinking. Eddie’s never had sex with anyone else; Eddie is, also, a creature from The Upside Down. Eddie bit Steve’s toes off and it never got infected, and they’ve also kissed and touched a lot and Steve’s never gotten sick, never shown any sign of catching anything. There doesn’t seem to be any possibility that Eddie might be a...carrier, of some sort of disease but...on the balance of probability, Steve figures better safe than sorry. Steve’s been with plenty of girls, but he’s always used protection, so he’s pretty sure that he’s clean but...what if he isn't, and he inadvertently gives something to Eddie? Steve has no idea what Eddie’s immune system might be like and...yeah. Eddie definitely can’t make an informed choice around all this, at least, not yet. So.

He leans over, shifting off Eddie a little to rummage in the top drawer, his fingers fiddling in the box until he manages to pull out a condom.

He leaves the wrapper there on the bed, in easy reach.

“Called?”

“Oh, it’s a condom. I’ll show you what it’s for in a bit, okay?”

Eddie nods, accepting that, before pulling Steve down for more kisses. Soft and sweet, with just a hint of Eddie’s only slightly too sharp teeth. They kiss, Steve taking his time, just enjoying the feeling of Eddie holding him. Eddie’s hands are just as curious as his mind, left to their own devices they roam every bit of Steve they can reach, flowing the dip of his spine and the curve of his ass. Groping and kneading at his shoulders, the tops of his arms. Buried in his hair, scratching gently and tugging lightly. Steve drinks it all in; can feel how much Eddie loves him, how intent every touch is. Like Eddie’s memorizing him.

Like every inch of Steve is precious.

Likewise Eddie’s cock is wriggling back and forward between them, burrowing it's way through the narrow space, the head rubbing against Steve’s hip and then nuzzling into his pubes; he feels it when the head opens, the flower petals pressing against Steve’s skin before moving on. He feels it when Eddie’s cock finds the base of his own, it seems to wriggle around it, the head pressing against one side and withdrawing, only to creep along the other. The petals open, grasping at the hard flesh at the base of Steve’s dick. He moans, rutting against the crease of Eddie’s thigh, Eddie’s dick following the movement, hanging on in a gentle clutch at Steve’s flesh.

Eddie likes it too, if the huffing, breathy little sighs he’s letting out are anything to go by, so Steve doesn’t stop. He lifts enough to look down between their bodies, and Eddie does the same. The black flower petals are a stark contrast against the skin of Steve’s cock; they’ve latched to the side, near the base, and a thick drip of precome stretches a connection between the head of Steve’s cock and the skin of Eddie’s hip.

Eddie starts wriggling, hips lifting, “Stee. Please more? Eddidie come.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve lets his hips rest against the cradle of Eddie’s again, keeping his weight on his forearms he leans in for kisses that Eddie returns eagerly, matching the movements of Steve’s hips with an enthusiastic slide of his own, Steve’s cock slippery wet now with precome, “you close to coming baby?”

Eddie frowns, head tilted back, letting Steve kiss and nip at his throat, “yes no.”

“Okay,” and Steve can’t keep doing this for that much longer, otherwise he’s going to come and that’ll be the end of his idea, “want me to touch you?”

“Yes. Touch good.”

“Okay,” Steve pulls off completely then, letting himself tilt to the side. Eddie’s dick looks like it’s stretched to the absolute limit, clearly not wanting to let go of Steve. Steve reached down, distracting it with the touch of fingers; it goes eagerly. Once Eddie’s dick has let go, Steve rolls the rest of the way to lie on his hip, the same as last time, snugged up against Eddie’s side. He takes Eddie’s eager cock in hand more naturally this time, more sure of what he’s doing.

He kisses Eddie’s cheek, and Eddie turns into it. He’s clearly distracted, his kisses sloppier now, wetter, half the time his mouth hanging open as he pants and moans quietly, Steve’s thumb working circles across the open head of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie whimpers, “okay?”

Eddie shakes his head, frowning, “not-not coming.” He squirms, face crinkled up in frustration and, possibly, discomfort, so Steve stops but Eddie immediately says, “no. More touch,” so Steve starts up the gentle movements of his thumb. Eddie’s hips squirm more, his cock pulsing and twitching, almost bucking in Steve’s hand; he’s so close, Steve knows he is, there’s just something stopping him.

Eddie needs more, and Steve doesn’t know what to do for him; it’s not like Eddie has nipples he can play with, “baby, what do you need?”

“Rough,” Eddie says suddenly, and oh, Steve gets that, maybe his thumbs tugging a little. He sits up, leaning over same as before, letting his mouth fill with spit. He pins Eddie’s cock still, but it’s wriggling so much that only half of it lands on target, the rest spattering on the webbing between Steve’s finger and thumb.

Steve doesn’t have chance to even get his thumb back in place, that’s enough, Eddie’s hips bucking as he cries out, the loudest noise he’s made so far. The flower petals half close, then open a little, doing a weird little celebratory Mexican wave type thing as Eddie’s back arches sharply, and his right leg twitches violently.

Steve just rides it out, letting Eddie’s body lift his own as Eddie’s hips roll again and again. Eventually it passes and Eddie settles, “okay baby?”

Eddie hums, his cheeks flush and his brown eyes bright, “perfect okay.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “all done?”

Eddie nods, then sighs with contentment, “inied.”

“Good,” Steve lets his cock go, it’s almost funny how it sort of lays down, like a little drunk dude just lying right there on the floor. “Still up for trying something?”

Eddie nods.

“Okay,” Steve clambers up, sitting on his knees next to Eddie, he opens the condom and then, pinching the end, carefully rolls it down to the base of his own cock.

“Why?” Eddie asks, watching with interest now.

“Oh it...well. If you were a girl, it would stop you getting pregnant.”

“Called preg-nant?” Eddie sounds the word out slowly.

“Yeah,” Steve pats his own stomach, trying to word it how Eddie might understand, “planting a baby.”

“Eddidie baby,” Eddie points out.

“Yeah, yeah I know, but I mean baby like...tadpole.”

Eddie sits up then, “tell Eddidie many many baby! Baby called tadpole! Eddidie not kid!”

Steve rubs his face, “oh man,” Steve gets Eddie by the shoulders, but he can’t help but smile, “baby is because...I love you, okay? I know you’re not a tadpole. I know you’re not a kid, okay, it’s just...someone special. Someone important. I love you, okay?”

“Okay,” but Eddie doesn’t look like he’s buying it, at all. And Steve’s sitting here with a throbbingly hard dick and it’s not exactly the conversation he wants to be having right this second.

“Okay, moles? Remember how moles are little animals but moles are also this,” Steve points to his neck, Eddie nods, “two different...but it’s the same word, yeah?”

Eddie’s face lights with understanding, and Steve knows he’s won, “okay, yeah. Eddidie baby.”

“Okay...so how do you feel about me putting my dick in you?” Steve shuffles between Eddie’s legs, his hard cock pointing the way to exactly where he wants to be.

“In? Wet?” Eddie questions. He reaches down to indicate what he means, he uses two fingers, his black oval shaped nails part his glistening wet slit in what is, unintentionally, possibly one of the most erotic things Steve’s ever seen. From where he’s kneeling between Eddie’s spread thighs, he gets a good look at just how wet and pink Eddie is inside, flooded with clear, jello like come.

Steve cock twitches, remembering just how tight it was on his finger, he tries to speak and fails, needing to clear his throat, “yeah, in. Do you want to try?”

Eddie nods, lying back and bending his knees more, letting his thighs fall further apart, the mouth of the slit slick and gaping.

Steve takes a deep breath, letting himself sink forward and down, he takes his weight on one hand where he hovers over Eddie. Using his other hand to guide the head of his dick, notching it at the opening of Eddie’s body.

Eddie's hand flies to Steve’s shoulder, gripping hard, so Steve stops, his eyes dragging, with great difficulty, away from where the rounded head of his condom covered dick is just breaching Eddie, “okay?”

Eddie frowns a little, looking worried, “slowly? Carefully?”

“I-yeah, of course. Eddie we don’t have to do this-”

“Eddidie try,” Eddie insists, “Eddidie tell no.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Eddidie tell no,” he says again, “it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, but you’ll tell me if it does hurt?”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie tell ow.”

“Okay,” Steve looks back down to what he’s doing, allowing himself to slide forward just the most fraction of an inch.

Almost immediately Eddie says, “ow.”

Steve freezes, looking back up. “It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie says innocently.

Steve can tell Eddie’s trying, and failing, to hide a grin, “you’re such a little shit.”

Eddie does laugh then, “little shit. Okay, Steve in now. Promise okay now.”

Steve shakes his head, taking a deep breath, he sinks in. Eddie’s channel is narrow, and it grips the sides of Steve’s cock beautifully. Eddie’s come is so thick and wet it slicks the way, and Eddie is just so fucking warm inside. It’s bliss.

He’s so wet inside that when Steve bottoms out, there’s an obscenely wet squelching noise, and Steve can feel the thick gloop of it dripping out and seeping onto his balls, forced out of Eddie’s body by Steve’s cock. “How does that feel? Okay?”

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it again, like he often does when he’s searching his limited vocabulary. He presses a hand to his stomach, lifting it a little to indicate being bloated or...“after Christmas food.”

“Full.”

Eddie nods, “full,” he shifts then, experimentally rolling his hips, and Steve can’t help but moan at the sucking drag of Eddie’s hole on Steve cock. “Good?”

“So good. You’re so so good for me baby, can I move?”

“Go, yes.”

Steve keeps his weight up off of Eddie, mostly because he wants to watch. When he pulls his cock back out, it’s shiny wet, clumps of Eddie’s slick clinging to the condom like slithers of jello. Steve, cautiously, slides all the way back in.

Eddie sighs, lifting one leg to rest his calf on Steve’s back, changing the angle a little so that Steve’s cock is guided now by the bottom of Eddie’s channel, he’s gripped tight on three sides, and it’s not like anything Steve’s ever felt before.

He already knows this is going to be a short show, but he’s pretty sure Eddie said he can’t come like this anyway, so hopefully he doesn’t mind. The glide is so slick Steve rocks in and out easily, his skin warming, the space between them becoming clammy. Steve can distinctly feel that crease of flesh, the pucker he’d found, dragging up and down the underside of his cock with every thrust.

Eddie holds him tight, one hand gripping Steve’s side, the other on his shoulder before it migrates into Steve’s hair when he leans down to kiss Eddie.

His balls are tight and wet with slick where they're nudging up against Eddie's body, and he’s so close already, he just needs his mouth on Eddie, needs Eddie’s tongue in his mouth when he chokes out a groan, “gonna’ come baby,” against Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie’s eyes are alert and bright, watching with interest. He makes little huffing noises when Steve goes particularly deep but otherwise he’s not showing much sign of actually getting off on this, “yes. Come in Eddidie.”

Steve does, his cock twitching as he grinds up tight to Eddie, filling the condom with sticky mess. He’s a little out of breath as he comes down, panting where his face is buried in the crook of Eddie’s neck; Eddie rubbing his back lovingly, “good Stee?”

“Yeah. Yeah so good baby, thank you.”

“Get cleaned up?”

Steve laughs a little, then forces himself to move, reaching between them to grip the condom at the base so he can pull out. Eddie makes a little chirrup of a noise when Steve’s clear of him, a little shiver running the length of his body and then he stretches luxuriously, arms above his head, wriggling his toes, a picture of contentment. All of his crotch is shiny wet, and as Steve watches his dick sort of rolls over and then slowly withdraws.

Steve pulls off the condom and ties it, Eddie watching with interest, then wrinkling his nose when he sees what’s inside, “taste bad.”

“Well I’ve never had any complaints before.”

Eddie trails after Steve into the bathroom, watching as he ditches the condom in the trash, “called complaints?”

“Uhm...no one else, other people, non of them said it tastes bad.”

Steve’s got the shower going, and when he turns, Eddie’s frown is nuclear, his hands on his hips in a determined Steve pose, “other people,” he repeats icily.

“Oh boy.”

Steve sighs. He’s been back to work for, he checks the clock for about the hundredth time, nearly two hours, and he’s already had enough. He’s almost looking forward to the kids showing up. Not that it isn’t nice to finally spend some time with Robin but...he kind of misses Eddie. It’s probably like, the honey moon stage, or whatever, the first shiny new part of a relationship when all you want it them but...still.

When the phone rings, Robin calls, “I’m not getting that.”

Steve sighs, leaving his stack of returns and leaning over the counter to scrabble for the phone, “hello, Family Video, how can I help-”

“Stee love.”

“Eddie? How did you- never mind, you okay?”

“No. Eddidie ow. Hurt.”

“Okay, I’m coming home, not long.” Steve hangs up, “Robs! I just got to go home a second, that okay?”

“Oh no,” she says from where she’s rolling back and forth on the office chair, waiting for a tape to rewind, “whatever will I do in the face of this horde of customers,” there’s currently one dude in the store, “I shall never cope with-”

“Yeah yeah, back soon.”

Steve doesn’t break any traffic laws on the way home, but he probably pushes it. Eddie’s on the couch when Steve gets in, looking alert and watching for Steve, “you okay?”

“Eddidie hurt,” he says, looking sad suddenly.

“Okay, show me.”

And Eddie stalls. Just for a moment, but long enough for Steve to catch it, before he, vaguely, indicates his tummy.

Steve suddenly has an inkling as to what’s going on here, but he comes to sit next to Eddie anyway, resting a gentle hand on his tummy, “hows that.”

Eddie nods, “good. TV?”

“Oh no. If you’re sick, then no TV. We just have to sit quiet.”

“Dinner food?”

“Definitely not. No. Here, lie down.”

Eddie does, but with a frown on his face, “Stee Eddidie out in car?”

“Nope.”

Eddie’s pout has achieved spectacular levels, “why?”

“Because you’re sick.”

It seems to dawn on Eddie that he has been completely caught out in his lie. Steve watches it happen, the emotions slowly play out. Eddie looks like he’s going through the stages of grief or something.

“How did you get works number? To call me?”

“One book,” it sounds like ‘own book.’

Steve hums, “how did you know which number it was?”

Eddie points to Steve’s vest, where it clearly says ‘Family Video’ over the little breast pocket.

“You’re so fucking clever. But I have to go back to work. You’re fine, aren’t you?” Eddie pouts, “you must never tell lies.”

“Called lie?” Eddie asks, shame faced now, plucking at his sleeve.

“Not true.” Steve tugs at his vest, “this is green. True. This is blue. Lie. Eddie is fine, true. Eddie has an ow, lie. We never tell lies.”

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles.

“It’s okay,” Steve bends down to kiss Eddie on the cheek, “I’ll be back around nine, okay?”

“Steve, you want anything else?”

“No thanks Joyce that was amazing. Here, let me help with dishes, you should sit.”

“No, you’re a guest-”

“Let the kid help-” Hopper starts.

“Because it gets you out of it,” Joyce huffs, but it’s fond, and she leans over and kisses Hop on the cheek.

When Steve gets back, Eddie is sitting on the couch with El, one leg pulled up, his fingers locked together over his shin, “Steve,” she says.

Eddie leans forward, a look of great concentration on his face, “Ste-eee,” he says, but it comes out wobbling and uncertain.

“No, it’s got a ‘v’ in it,” and she makes the ‘v’ sound again, “so, Stee-ve,”

“Vee?” El nods, “Ste-vie?”

Steve’s heart flutters in his chest. Watching them, he feels a strange sense of happiness for Eddie, but also melancholy; he knows he’s about to loose, ‘Stee’. It was inevitable, he knows, Eddie’s getting better at speaking all the time. This was always going to happen.

“Almost, Steve,” she stresses the second part of Steve’s name.

“Steee-vie?” Eddie frowns, looking a bit frustrated that his mouth isn’t cooperating.

“I like Stevie,” Steve says, heading over to them.

Eddie nods, “Ste-vie,” he says proudly, “Stevie love?”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve wedges himself between Eddie and the arm of the couch, then Jon files in and sits on the floor, making room as the coffee table gets shifted. Joyce

Hopper and Mike squeeze onto the other couch, “here kid,” Hopper passes an envelope across.

Out of it fall a drivers license, a passport, a birth certificate. Steve is caught for a second looking at the little picture of Eddie in his wig, and he guesses it works well enough. You have to really squint at the little picture to figure anything is up with it, and even then Steve figures he knows so he's looking for it, and the picture is obviously Eddie. He reads the details on the license, “Edwin!” He says, suddenly outraged, “Munson?! Hopper what the-”

“It’s what it said on the paper!”

“It did not say ‘Edwin’-”

“Eddie is not anyone's name kid, Eddie is always short for something else-”

“Edwin though?!”

“It was the first thing that popped into my head-”

Steve feels Eddie take the stack of papers out of his hands to inspect them, “and Munson? It said Mon-son! With an ‘O’!”

“It did not!” Hopper digs around in his pocket for the scrap of paper Steve had handed him along with the photos, “here, Munson.”

“That’s an ‘O’!”

“Well it looks like a ‘U’!”

“Stevie,” Eddie says carefully, “Stevie love, drive car again now?”

Steve looks over, Eddie’s carefully turning the pages of his new passport, inspecting his license, reading his birth certificate, like all of it is the most precious things he’s ever seen, “yeah,” Steve sighs. “Yeah, yeah of course.” Eddie beams at him.

Hoppers eyebrows are practically in his hair, “what does he mean, ‘again’?”

Part twentyfive

[nemesyaaa]

do revenge // mean!rafe cameron x camdoll!reader

summary ; you were tired and sick of the hell life the well-known kook prince give you. so after being for so long his favorite victim, you decided to fight back.

warnings : dark content. insecurities. revenge plot. bully!rafe. poker face!rafe. sick behavior and toxic attitude. smut. oral(m. receiving). dollification. blackmailing. dubcon. shitty kooks behavior. bad thoughts. quickly mentions of some kinks. self-justice. pogue/kook hate/unfair dynamic. free hate. masked reader. threatening. power imbalance. baddie attitude. minors dni. please, be careful with the warnings.

author's note : the girl on the gifs is not a faceclaim, it's only to show what kinda mask she wear. it's the first time i think i do something like that so......and it's a one-shot, so it's maybe a little too long 💀

you worked as a waitress in a small restaurant. you hated this job but you had to make money and today the place was a little empty so you thought you could relax but that was before Rafe showed up with his gang of kooks. you had started shaking as soon as you saw them. you felt so small and trapped, your breath sped up. there was like a lack of air in your lungs because you knew how rafe was with you, how much he hated you but above all, how much he loved to humiliate you. it was his favorite pleasure: being cruel to you. and damn, he knew how to hurt you better than anyone. he must have broken so many things in you, your ego, your heart, your self-esteem, your confidence, your joy of living that you wondered how you were still standing in his presence.

with a tense smile, you approached them because you also couldn't escape the group. you hugged your notepad to your chest, pressing tightly the page against your breasts. you were about to open your mouth when rafe cut you off.

“i understand better why this restaurant is so empty…” he commented, looking you up and down. “ but what i don’t get is why you haven’t been fired yet when you’re scaring customers away.”

“apparently not everyone since you're here...." that was what you wanted to answer but you preferred to kill yourself rather than make a remark to rafe that was going to cost you your life. and you wouldn't want to give him this pleasure.

“have you chosen what you want? ” you said, addressing everyone, preferring to ignore the leader of the kooks group.

“it’s so cheap here. ” he had commented. “ very cheap. ” from his insistent look, you understood that he was including you in his criticism. he was very childish.

you nervously tighten your grip on your pen. of all rafe's friends, topper seemed the most sensitive to what you were going through but he always stayed quiet. this idiot finally ordered cocktails. the words had to be ripped out of his mouth.

when you came back with the drinks, you delicately placed them on the table. you were embarrassed by the way rafe stared at you like you had something on your face, like he was planning another nasty remark. and it didn't take long, because the next minute, he had managed to make you cry and made everyone laugh.

when you handed him his glass, he purposely knocked it to the ground.

“what are you waiting for, pogue? clean it. it's not like it's new to you, you're used to cleaning up other people's shit. "

burning tears started to come out of your eyes, you bit your trembling lip. your throat was tight, and you hated everything you were feeling right now. the shame, the humiliation, the fear, it destroyed you.

you brought something to clean before bending down. he hadn't apologized. he never did it anyway. you kept all this grudge inside of you, even if it killed you.

he picked up your rag with a smirk. “you don't need that when you can use your tongue. ”

you looked at him with wide eyes, as if you had heard wrong. topper had intervened before you did. “hey dude, no need to go that far.”

“shut up, topper. i really need to show you that all women are fucking dirty and disgusting sluts. so stop protecting them, and watch the show i put on for you. and for free. ”

"rafe...listen..." you said softly.

“you better listen to me if you don't want to be fired. you know how good i am at making your life hell.” you started to kneel down, bringing your face closer to the ground. “yes, you understand very easily, maybe you can show your ass to the camera too. record it, kelce. lick it well, sweetheart. don't want to see your ugly face on the screen. “

this day was the last straw. it was worse than anything. it was completely degrading and nasty.

and it was surely at that precise moment, that night to be exact, that everything had changed in you. that you had decided that this couldn't last, that you had to play into the enemy's game to defeat him, that sometimes you had to be unfair when he cheated, that when someone was bad, you had to be tougher and stronger.

it had been several years that you had endured criticism from rafe and kooks about your physique, your pogue condition, that your face was the center of mockery and the worst jokes, that it lasted to the point that you had surely become the funniest joke or meme in the island.

but you had grown up. you had prepared your revenge over several months. because you couldn't pretend it didn't affect you. but all the hatred you had felt for yourself had started to turn towards rafe, to give you a reason to live, a purpose because he had given you a furious and crazy idea.

he had humiliated you. and he was going to taste his own medicine.

deep down, you weren't just doing this for yourself but for all the pogue girls who had suffered harassment from kook boys, for all the girls who had received bad treatment because they didn't look like princesses, for all the girls who were made to believe that they deserved nothing because they did not meet the physical standards. you had to put an end to this nonsense.

so after five months, you had become what rafe loved the most. you had become a very popular online camdoll for kooks. you wore a mask that hid your facial identity enough to not be recognized. you had a completely different style. you were surely prettier, more magnificent in his eyes. because he had fallen into the trap. he had this slightly superficial side. you knew you had succeeded from the moment you felt the difference. not only did he want you, but he wanted to possess you.

he was one of your loyal viewers. he didn't have his first name as a username but you knew it was him. his messages had the same tone as when he spoke to you.

he was pathetic, because he paid to see your content, to talk to you, to hear you touch yourself, to do dirty things to you. no matter how much you charged.

he even sent you a video of him jerking off on one of your lives. you couldn't lie, you had watched the entire video. his fist was wrapped around his painfully cock, moving up and down, the leaking tip disappearing and appearing with the speed of his thrusts, the way his boner grew bigger the more he thought of you. he was going so fast that his bulge was literally slapping against his hand with a loud, obscene noise, his sagging balls moving in rhythm. his hair was messy, there was a quiver in his lips every time he made a grunt. “ fuck...fuck...fuc'...gonna fuck that dollface one day...gonna get this dick all in your dumb pussy. ” his length was very feverish and at the same time hard, shaken with spasms. the veins pumped by his strokes. he had come in such a short time, loads of cum exploding all over his sweating chest. he had wiped everything with a pack of tissues. and just when you thought the video had come, he started again.

you never responded. only downloaded the video and stored in a confidential folder.

but one day, he spoiled you a little too much. however, you weren't doing anything really crazy. you fulfilled clients' requests — which involved masturbating with a vibrator, playing with your breasts while riding a dildo, putting as many fingers as your viewers wanted in your pussy, letting them dress you however they wanted, letting them make you crazy stupid and vulnerable, doing little shows and hauls until you end up naked, playing with the food on your body, recording your orgasms, filming you when you slept naked or took a shower.

you had decided to thank rafe for his expensive gifts by asking him to come to your house. you had a studio that you had decorated, enough to make him believe that you lived well, and that you could be a kook. obviously, he had accepted and of course, he was hoping for sex when you told him you had a surprise for him.

it was, he was going to have sex. and you a revenge.

rafe had always assumed that he hated you, the shitty, ugly pogue, that he would never sleep with you. and to quote his own words “even for a million, i could never fuck such a disgusting thing. ” and it was always in public, in front of people. then you were going to do the exact same thing. you were going to fuck with him, and if he loved show that much, he was not going to be disappointed.

on the day, you had prepared yourself for the occasion. while you were getting ready, there were tons of flashbacks in your head, scenes, words that kept coming back. all this cruelty that could make you vomit.

“i really thought alcohol would help me find you attractive but no, you're still just as ugly. i thought it was a pogue thing baby but actually it's just you. ” it was rafe.

“ i felt like i had hit you in the face ten thousand times with my golf ball. ” it was still rafe.

“the difference between you and the other pogues? is that you angel, you will never be able to hide the fact that you are one. all the misery shows on your face. ” always rafe.

and it was each time heavier, more hardcore. he reminded you of your condition, but also of how much he couldn't see you. you were too horrible. you never told anyone about this treatment, about all this hatred. but you had now learned, from the best, how to make noise.

you wiped away your tears, and brought the mask to your face. “i can do it. ” you muttered to yourself as you began to get slightly anxious. you were afraid of breaking down in the middle of the act, of finally not being sure you wanted all of this. you felt mixed feelings. was it really good to do that, was it really right? but on the one hand, what had justice done for you until now? absolutely nothing. like everyone else, she had watched you get humiliated. so it was just common sense?

the door to your studio rang. you opened it. you couldn’t lie that rafe was really handsome and smell good. but the first thing you noticed was his smile.

he was completely different. you could see in his eyes for the first time, something positive towards you.

" welcome. ” you said with a smile, inviting him inside.

oh he resisted the urge to kiss you, his hands were in his pockets but they were nervous and unsteady. they wanted to be on you.

“do you want to drink something? ” you added the name of the cocktail he always had at your restaurant. you had done it on purpose but he hadn't noticed. he nodded.

“are you going to take off your mask one day? ”

“without it, i am no longer what i am. so it's better that i keep it. isn’t that all you want me to be? a doll. ”

“no, you’re right. then at least i know you're not a fucking pogue. ”

“it would be bad for your reputation too. i already see the headlines and the taunts "rafe cameron fucks a pogue" and people will laugh at you, and you hate it being humiliated. no one likes it. ”

“you look really nice, doll. i mean, kind.” he replied.

“i am but i believe that some people. ” you pressed the word, and gave him an honest look. “have abused a lot of this part of me. that's why i'm a doll, i don't have to feel anything, just do what people want me for. you can fulfill your every desire with me. do you want to see me in a certain dress? let me change. do you want to release your anger in me? let me help you. do you just want to fuck me? i am literally made for this. ”

“you are made for me. ” you smiled through the mask because in a way, he was right. he had created your character.

“do you mind if i film? i really want to record this. you are the first customer I have met. it's special for me. ”

" no. at least people will know to who you belong. ”

“that’s exactly it. ” you lied when starting the live. “let’s get started. ”

you had removed his pants and his boxers, placing yourself between his thick tighs, he was so much bigger than you that you looked like a small caged thing.

you placed your outrageously manicured hands on his open legs, your mouth sinking and wrapping around his hard cock. your tongue had started rolling around the girth, you could feel the small drop of precum going down your throat. this part that he was soon going to get fucked strongly and hard.

you wanted to drive him crazy, see him sweat like a pig because you were so good, because you did it all too well. he had wrapped your hair in a grip to make it easier to pull on it. “yes...suck that cock...just like that...let me ruin that mouth...fuck…”

your dripping lips were stretched by the size of his length, and the way it was getting completely hard inside of you. you could feel the drool running down the sides of your mouth. you felt every inch of his penis fucking your throat. and through your mask, you saw his smirks. he pulled your hair, and you took all of him, until your face came into contact with his pelvis, every bit of him was in you. you almost gagged.

he had barely pulled out of you before he entered you again. his cock worked against your tongue, brushing it harshly, the tip tapping the back of your throat. your cheeks were sunken, and your lips drowned between spittles and saliva. “you're perfect, doll...you really know how to suck...i could really take advantage of the situation if you keep this up...” at his words, you sucked him faster, pumping efficiently while his hand stroked your hair. his fingers moved along with your head.

he was completely using you, doing whatever he wanted with you. and you let him do it, because you wanted him to be proud of himself and to be seen on camera. he had pushed his cock onto your mask, decorating it with saliva, your own currently drooling. “so pretty. ” he had commented. he pushed his cock back into your mouth without warning, taking it ever deeper. you felt fizzy. your lips were open and used for several minutes non-stop, your throat puckered and pummeled. your jaw was starting to hurt, but you didn’t show it. you had to be perfect, packaged the way he wanted. your tongue flickered around him, teasing his girth.

“ need to be inside you...so bad...you make me feel so good. it's your face, doll. you're divine.”

maybe he had a mask kink to say that, to also be turned on by a fucking plastic object. or maybe it was the face he imagined behind it all? you didn't know.

he had thrown you on the bed, opened your legs in two and pushed your body against his hips, pulling you by the waist. his cock had twitching, purring some pre-cum, at the contact with your soaked cunt.

“ i could never sleep with a pogue. but especially with you, just thinking about it makes me vomit. “ it was perfect that you remembered that in the moment, as he thrust into you, his hips moving slowly.

your pussy clenched around his cock, barely letting him move without hurting you. “ fuck, you're so fucking tight, doll....need me to stretch this pretty little cunt. i'm gonna make you so dumb. “

you couldn’t hide that you still got wet, and damn, he knew how to fuck and you couldn’t be his first time. he had started pounding into you once your pussy had started to ease around him.

it was really intense, his body slamming violently against yours, the strike echoing through the room. your weak moans but which he heard very clearly, and which encouraged him to go even further within your walls. he pushed himself even more to hear you scream. he had a goal and he wanted to make you so stupid that in the end you wouldn't be able to do anything.

he buried himself inside you, his powerful thrusts stretching your pussy, your body twitching beneath him. he was on top of you, staring into your eyes. you were a little fascinated. his shoulders were broad and muscular, his arms heavy and toned, and his abs were perfect arranged into six packs. his hair fell on his forehead.

he couldn’t see the emotions on your face, nor clearly define what you were feeling. he only had your voice and the reactions of your body.

your pussy hugged him with each strokes, he filled you completely, making his way to your spot. your puffy slit was spread, capturing his bulge. you squeezed him harder, he startly getting down, the wet and dirty sounds of his hips rocking your body. you could see the vein on his neck, his contracted muscles covered in sweat.

he had placed his lips on yours, his mouth kissing yours. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, gently guiding the kiss with your tongue.

he continued to fuck you, while playing with his tongue in your mouth, kissing you without limits, until your lips and jaws were covered in drool. you waited for him to cum inside you. but he hadn't pulled out while you were flooded, loaded with his cum, and some orgasms you'd had. it dripped from your slit onto the sheets. he had placed the tip of his cock back in front of your entrance, picking up where his enjoyment had left you off.

this time it was a little gentler. it was like you had established a little intimacy even though you knew it wasn't true. after a few minutes, he stopped.

" are you always being that kind ?…”

“ you think i'm a mean person ? ”

“ you never hurt people ? never in your life ? ” you asked him, with a friendly tone.

“ what if ? ”

“ don't freak out. everyone has a mean side. now, you got me curious. can you tell me the worst thing you have done to someone ? ”

“ maybe it was to one of that trashy pogue…” it started, and you forced yourself to not react when you saw the smile on his face. even after years, it didn't regret anything. because obviously, he talked about you.

“ thank you for confessing this story to me. now, i have a gift for you…” you said with a fakely soft voice. “ it was not the sex part. i'm willing to let you see me without my mask. i really want you to see me because i trust you. ” was obviously a lie.

“are you sure? ” he was so surprised by your proposal. “ don't you want to tell me something worse you did to someone too ? ”

“ oh, it's part of the gift, rafe . ”

at this moment, he knew. he fucking knew.

he had removed your mask.

because of the shock, he took a step back.

his face was indescribable.

“oh no, you can't pretend to be disgusted, not after fucking me like you've wanted this your whole life. ” you smiled. “what did you say before? that you could throw up? liar. you came so hard in me. and, it is still dripping. come on, don't run away, give a closer look. maybe i should make you clean the mess you made with your tongue. like you did to me. maybe, this time you will vomit. but i'm not sure, you're such a pathetic hater. and i'm just not afraid of you anymore. ”

“what the fuck is wrong with you, pogue ?! did you have fun?”

“ pogue ? ” you mocked. “ was babydoll, sweetheart, a few minutes ago. now, it's pogue ? how it feels, rafe ? how does it feel to be humiliated ? i think, it's better for you to apologize for all these years. but not only for me, for every pogue. ”

a crazy laugh escaped his lips, as he came closer to you. “ really ? what make you feel that i will apologize ? especially to you. ”

“ because now, the game is over. it's a war and i'm gonna fight back. it means, i will drag you down. every secret, every weakness, every move that you want to hide from me will be from now my first concern. i'm glad that you hate me because it's only the beginning. ”

“ you really think that you have some power over me ? be serious. ”

“ it's not about power at all. it's about justice. ”

i also wanted to thanks @bunnyrafe @rafecameroninterlude and @bimbotrashcan who helped me a lot, and trusted me for this !! tysm, i'm very grateful <333

[ribread03]

Letter Home

M. Sturniolo

When Matt finds a letter you are writing home about him…

Warnings: making out

THIS IS MY WORK AND MY IDEAS! I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE THIS FOR “INSPIRATION” OR FOR YOU TO COPY!

Ri.talks: this has to be one of my favorite things I’ve written ever! I love the song that goes with it and i even use some of it in the letter that y/n is writing! The word could is a heavy 1.1k 🤭

Also please listen to the song if you don’t know it! The letter will make a lot more sense if you do!

You are sitting at your desk with a pen and piece of paper. You are currently writing a letter home to your mom and dad about your new boyfriend, Matt. Talking about his looks and how he treats you like your are queen.

“Hi Mama,

I met this really sweet guy here in Boston, his name is Matt. Daddy might not like his job, he’s a YouTuber with his TRIPLET brothers. They are both really nice, their names are Nick and Chris. They always have me over for movie nights and just to hang out.

Matt has the prettiest blue eyes. Daddy will like the fact that he opens the door for me any where, the car door, the front door, doors to gas stations, every door you could imagine. He always makes sure that I’m happy and never gives me a reason to cry. He always finds an excuse to spoil me, whether it be getting my favorite take out or buying me a new stuffed animal; you know how much i love my stuffies he loves his the same!

He feels like the right person, my forever. He’s not where we are from but he is everything I could ever need.

He’s recently gotten me to wear Celtics green, it’s his favorite basketball team. I always cheer when he does even tho I don’t watch many sports, I still like to be there with him.

I love you mama,

Y/N <3”

You’re pulled from your thoughts by a knock on your front door. You know it’s Matt, the two of you were going to have a movie night. Getting up from your desk, you quickly make it to the front door opening it for Matt.

“Hi Matt” you say with a warm smile, stepping aside to let Matt in. He is quick to pull into a warm embrace once he is in the door, swaying gently as his arms wrap around your torso tightly.

“Hi,” he says softly as he pulls away from you, a smile on his lips. The two of you walk side by side to your room, hands brushing slightly as you walk.

You don’t stop at your bedroom door, you continue walking to the bathroom. “I have to pee then I’ll be right in,” you say opening the bathroom door and disappearing into it.

Matts POV

I watched as y/n walked past her bedroom door and towards the bathroom. Her voice floats through the air as she tells me she will only be a minute. I step into her room quickly glancing around and finding some of the new little pieces of decor she’s placed in it since I’ve last been in it.

My eyes follow the walls to her desk that is right next to me. There is a piece of paper on it, something thats not normal there. Picking it up I flip it over, my curiosity getting the best of me.

I saw her handwriting, “a handwritten note,” I think to myself. Reading the note I come across my name, then Nick and Chris’s. Once I finish reading the some what personal note back to her mom and dad my heart flutters with love, feeling full of it. I go to place it back down on the desk the way I had found it, but not before she opened the door to her bedroom.

Back to Y/N

“Matt you weren’t supposed to see that!” You quickly say while grabbing the note and bringing it, the side with words to your chest. Butterfly’s filling your stomach as you look at Matt. Your cheeks flush at the thought that he had read what you wrote.

All Matt does and stare at you in what looks to be pure awe. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before speaking, “Y/N I- I don’t know what to say.” You can see the slight gloss in his eyes, “do you mean everything on that?” He points at the paper in your arms.

“Mhm” you hum out, nodding your head lightly; scared that if you talk to loud your voice might break. All of the sudden he smashes his lips on yours, you didn’t realize at first but once you did you started kissing him back. The only sound in the room is the wet sounds of your lips and teeth colliding, for the first time ever.

Matt pulls away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting them still. His forehead rest on yours as the two of you catch your breaths. Your heart is beating fast as you pant along with Matt. “Matt,” you whisper out, still catching your breath.

“You’re writing a letter home about me?” Matts voice breaks slightly, seeming to be surprised about the fact you are writing a letter home to your parents.

“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile. “When it’s something important to me I like to write home.” At your words Matt places another kiss on your lips, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. This one is different than the first, this one is slower as if Matt’s trying to tell you he feels the same towards you; that your special to him to.

Matt breaks the kiss, leaving a few small pecks before he speaks. “That- Y/N, That means so much to me,” his voice is low. Matt kisses you softly again, smiling into the kiss as he does so.

You pull away from Matt, your forehead resting on his again, your breaths mingling. “You’re a good kisser,” you whisper out with a small giggle. Your arms go around his torso, bringing him closer to you.

“Yeah?” Matt whispers with a small smile on his face. You nod your head, your smile matching his.

“Yeah” you say matter a factly, letting out another soft laugh. “A very good kisser.” You place the letter back on your desk, face down just like it was before. You pull away from Matt for good this time, moving to sit on your bed.

“Good to know,” Matt says with a smile, walking towards the bed. He sits down next to you, scooting to be right at your side. You turn the TV on, clicking on Disney+ and scrolling to the Star Wars movies.

The two of you have been having movie nights two times a week since you started dating. Recently you’ve been working on the Star Wars movies, now on the third one. Clicking on the movie, the description starts to scroll on the screen, Matt has made it kinda his thing to read them to you.

You smile as his voice floats through the room, reading every word that slides across the screen. As the movie starts you snuggle closer to Matt’s side, your leg draping across both of his.

As the night continues both you and Matt start to drift asleep. In each other’s arms, the credits of the movie rolling on the TV as a soft snore leaves Matt’s lips. A smile still on your lips as you fall into a deeper sleep in Matt’s arms, the night coming to a quick end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THANK YOU FOR READING! THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES AND I FEEL LIKE I DID SUCH A GOOD JOB ON IT!

[night-market-if]

Answering some bulk questions

I am getting the same kind of questions in my inbox and instead of answering them all individually, I thought I would just make one long post. Hopefully that can clear some things up.

Why is m!pen white and f!pen black?

Mostly because the character of Pen is death. They have no form. Not a real one. Much like the MC, the image they are presenting is a construct. So, when I thought about that, I kind of thought it would be fun to play around with two very different aesthetics (I think in the final edit I might even write them a bit different). I did this for two reasons. One, because I haven't really seen this in ifs. And two, I kind of liked the duality of it. Opposites, really. It sat well with me for the character of death.

2. Why does nothing bad ever happen to Milo? Stop playing favorites.

Bad things have happened to Milo. More so than the other characters, I would argue. I have a feeling this is more from people annoyed that a very specific bad thing won't happen to Milo. Because Milo has watched Malcolm and MC die. Was beaten as a child. Orphaned. Didn't know where his real home was or who he was. Has a ghost for a sister. (who he also watched die). Has been responsible for keeping his best friend sane for quite a few years. And got the shittiest job in the world. He has also been stabbed at quite a bit. Betrayed. And used.

I do a lot of bad things to Milo. Favorites would be if nothing bad happened to him. And defending your characters decisions is not playing favorites. It is just knowing your characters as a writer.

3. Who is your favorite RO?

I have said before that Milo is not my favorite to write. So inevitably I get asked who is. I don't answer this question because I don't want the complaints.

4. Why don't you have stats?

Because I don't like them. I come from much more of a storytelling perspective than a game mechanics one. And don't get me wrong. People that do game mechanics are awesome. I admire them a ton and enjoy their games (though my field is more video games). But that's never what I wanted the Night Market to be. I just want people to be immersed.

5. Do you feel you have to have inclusivity as a writer?

I don't know why I've been getting this one a lot. Might be something going on in the community. The honest answer is no, I do not. I have never felt pressured to have a certain representation within the Night Market. That all being said, maybe I don't feel that way because I tend to have an organically more diverse cast of characters? But I can't say I have ever felt like I have to put a certain representation in. And I don't believe writers should feel pressure for that. Because a lot of times, if you are just putting in a token character to do it, it becomes a bit problematic.

6. What are your favorite IF's and do you have recomendations?

I hate to say this, but I don't read IF's. I've dabbled occasionally in the past but I find when I read IF's, it messes with my head and my ability to write. Now, I read a lot of novels. That is my preferred vehicle of reading. But as for IF's, I probably won't read a lot of them until I am officially done with the Night Market. I struggle to enjoy stories when I feel like it is a part of my day to day job.

7. Why don't you ever speak out politically?

Because that is private for me. I don't want to. I want to provide an escape from the world. Not add to discussions that are being had by people far more adept than me. I leave my political feelings and responsibilities at home.

8. Why can't you provide (insert numerous topics) to the route?

Because coding and writing are a bitch. There is a lot of work that goes into this stuff that isn't always fun. And sometimes, as much as I would like to put something in or have a new route, I just can't. I am one person. A person who has a pretty hefty personal life. I am doing what I can.

[bottledkriegmen]

ZERO DAY HEADCANONS!! >O<

xoxo @calcyum helped me write some of these go look at his art its so yummy!! literally the loml MWAH

☆ Cal tells white little harmless lies like, all the time. He doesn't mean to, it just happens

⋆ Example, he says he doesn't like ice cream but he can and will absolutely destroy an entire tub of chocolate icecream in a heartbeat

☆ Andre burned the shirt he got called a faggot in the bonfire before Zero Day.

☆ Cal's half Russian, his bio dad lives in the European half of Russia.

☆ They both call Mel, "Mel Bell" or "Melanie Bellanie"

☆ Andre played softball when he was little.

⋆ He quit because he got hit really hard in the head by a bat.

☆ Cal's a total metalhead. He has a ton of diff band tee's, but he's never gone to a concert.

☆ Andre has especially sharp canines!! (Feeding into Dogdre propaganda/j)

☆ Cal is a chronic doodler. If he and Andre are sitting next to eachother and Cal has a pen or sharpie in his grasp, Andres getting a whole SLEEVE of silly little doodles all over his arm.

⋆ he's also a stick n poke master, he's got little tatoos littering his ankles.

☆ Andre is a left handed shooter, right handed writer..... Cal is the opposite.

☆ Andre is a polyglot!! He forgets words in English and has to try to convey what he's trying to say to Cal in literally any other language he can think of. (Never works.)

⋆ This makes him so unbelievably mad.

☆ Cal watched Duckman growing up.

⋆ He introduced it to his siblings and they used to all watch it together!! TRUST!!

☆ Andre watched M*A*S*H growing up...

☆ Cal knows how to play a few diff instruments, other than a guitar and sitar.

⋆ Violin, piano, trumpet, all that good stuff.

☆ There's definitely a few holes in the basement walls of Andre’s house. He'll swear it wasn't him. (It was.)

☆ Cal is very awkward with love in general. He'd be an... okay boyfriend, but he would NOT pay enough attention to his partner because he'd be too busy hanging out with Andre.

☆ Andre 100% grew up on older fashioned values with new fashioned eyes iykwim. He'd treat his partner with the utmost respect, but he'd also have the same problem as Cal. He wouldn't pay much attention to them.

☆ (A personal fave) Cal and Andre have matching dog tags!

⋆ Before their final scene in Zero Day, Cal and Andre decided to switch dog tags with eachother. (fags..)

☆ Andre got a little teddy bear as a birthday present when he was itty bitty, and kept it. He's wayy to embarrassed to show anybody.

⋆ Cal found it one day and Andre nearly lost his shit.

☆ Cal often meows or hums in response when talking to Rachel or Andre when he doesn't feel like actually speaking.

☆ Stealing this from another post (I can't find creds rn i am SO sorry), Cal's siblings absolutely love Andre. He's like their other older brother.

⋆ Andre loves them just the same, he's such a good big brother. :(

☆ Cal's sister paints both Cal's and Andre’s nails, and makes them attend her tea parties with her stuffed animals.

☆ Mel follows Andre around the house wherever he goes. There's literally not a second when she's not behind him.

⋆ She gets jealous of Cal whenever he's too close to Andre.

☆ Andre and Cal share a bed everytime they spend the night with eachother.

⋆ They totally spoon but like hell they'd ever admit that.

these were so fun to write guys ty again ml MWAUGHH

[lewkwoodnco]

the tortured poets department - george karim x reader

George stiffened and shut his eyes regretfully as if he couldn’t bear to see that look on her face. A faint flush started creeping up his throat, peeking out from behind his starchy collar. “Don’t,” he whispered.

“Tell me,” she pressed, taking yet another step closer until their noses were barely an inch apart, “who else is going to know me? Truly know me?”

He let go of the breath he was holding and it fluttered across her cheek like the ghost of a kiss. They were venturing into intolerably intimate territory, and she could feel her pulse racing under the distracted brush of his thumb on her wrist.

a/n - HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH thats it thats the a/n also happy birthday to ali hadji-hesmati ia m NOT late shut up

tropes/warnings - slight nsfw towards the end (idk tho??), angst (what else is new lmao), tw slight mention of suicide, ft locklyle wedding (a bit) happy ending tho, i am very sick wrote this entirely on my phone and cannot be held accountable for any of this

word count - 3.7k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Who uses typewriters anyway?

That was what she had mouthed at her friend from across the Fittes office. They were brand new hires; scribes assigned to different researchers under an apprenticeship programme. Things were off to a rougher start than she had expected. From what she could see, her friend had been assigned to a perfectly normal-looking researcher who, now that introductions were complete, was explaining his filing system to her.

On the other hand, the first thing her oddly intense researcher had asked was if she knew how to use a typewriter. She had laughed, thinking it was a joke, before very quickly realising that he was being perfectly serious. He started explaining how the contraption worked far too quickly for her to catch anything, and she had taken the chance to shoot her friend a look.

“L/N?”

She whipped her head back around, immediately apologetic. “Sorry. I think I get how it works now.” Really, it was just bad luck that she had gotten the short end of the stick.

The next thing she learnt, over many months, was how to pick up on and decrypt George’s nonverbal cues. Namely, knowing what his every sigh, muttering or frown meant. While it had felt frustrating similar to banging her head against a wall in the beginning, he started to grow on her. Learning how George Karim ticked was like figuring out an intriguing puzzle all on her own. Besides, he wasn’t unkind. He could be understanding, so long as he had the patience for it on that particular day.

But there were times when she decided that no, he wasn’t all that compassionate of a coworker. Particularly on nights when he’d have her write up chapters worth of research summarised from his scrawled notes. And woe betide her should she make one too many mistakes.

Who the hell uses typewriters anyway?

"Do you ever think about leaving Fittes?"

Her typing stopped abruptly, her flickering train of thought completely demolished by George's appalling suggestion. They were sitting at their adjacent desks at the Fittes office, her typing up the previous night's case report while George twiddled his thumbs and fiddled with a pen in increasingly creative ways.

"Leave? And go where?"

She followed the line of his hateful stare towards one of the thick metal doors along the corridor which led to a more restricted part of the offices. Like most others, she felt no pressing inclination to snoop around and stumble upon information she would rather not find. But for someone like George, she could practically see how it gnawed at him - libraries of secrets just begging to be known.

Her gaze flitted anxiously between his face and the door. It was both a frightening and thrilling thing when George decided to put his mind to something, using his brain at its full capacity in some sincerely earnest hunt for knowledge. It was also the thing that was going to get him killed sooner or later, mesmerising as he was. It. Mesmerising as it was.

"Start our own agency. Play by our rules."

She laughed nervously, too artificial even for her own ears as she wrung her stiff hands. George's voice had a distant quality to it that told her he was on the way to making some very bad decisions if she didn't step in soon. "Oh, George, you say the…the darnedest things. You're no Tom Rotwell, you know."

"You're not Marissa Fittes yourself, either."

"Rude."

His gaze flickered to her at that, the barest hint of a smile ghosting his lips as the tension in his shoulders dissolved. She visibly relaxed as well, satisfied that it would be a decent while before he once again latched onto this bizarre notion.

Which was why his abrupt switch in employment to some small, crumbling agency had left her more than shell-shocked. Coming into work on a normal, gloomy Monday and seeing George's desk cleared out and painfully sterile of the ideas and theories he buzzed with left her feeling lost at sea in the worst way. And he didn't bother to reach out to her either - not a call, not a letter, not a visit.

That is, not a visit until he turned up at her door in the middle of the night, pale as the Visitors that skulked outside her door.

"Sorry.”

For one stupidly miraculous moment, she thought he might be apologising for a month’s worth of grey days and sleepless nights.

“I know it’s late, but I think I left my typewriter here."

She felt stupidly disappointed.

"You're making a mess of my - what are you doing?"

George had located his otherwise untouched typewriter positioned at one corner of her dining table and was now furiously typing away, a sickly, pallid sheen to his forehead.

"Don't worry, I'll be qui -"

"Karim."

His typing faltered, and for once he had the decency to look marginally embarrassed.

“Sit down. Start from the beginning.”

So he did. He told her everything about some Type Two case at 62 Sheen Road, short of coming out and saying that he had put his associates' lives in danger, but she could hear it in his voice. It was an almost welcome return to the old days of picking out the relevant parts while his mind ran ahead at the speed of light; so much to think and agonise over. When his voice finally started to run thin, she fetched him a cup of tea, taking a moment to process it all.

"Okay, so, if I have this right, none of this is your fault. No - don't argue with me. Drink your tea. You told him to wait, that you needed more time.“

He mumbled something incoherent as he pulled off his glasses, dragging a hand across his eyes, looking far too young and worn. He glanced up to meet her gaze, the look on his face as much of a wreck as the rest of him. He looked down again, staring at his hands splayed on her dining table. George never was one for letting his feelings show, let alone hysterics, and it rubbed at something raw to see him spiralling this badly.

“They’d be better off with a researcher who could actually do his job.”

She suppressed the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes.

“Oh, please, this has nothing to do with being altruistic. This is just you trying to punish yourself over something that isn’t even your fault.”

He showed no sign of having heard her. She sighed and slid into the seat next to his, her fingers nearly brushing his.

“Look - what's done is done. Possibly the worst thing you could do now is leave them in the lurch like this. Of course, it's not going to be smooth sailing throughout, but you made a commitment, so for the love of God keep your head up and stick it through.” She reached out to loosely cover his wrist. “Okay?”

George stayed silent but glanced up at her. Okay. She pulled her hand away. He finished the last of his tea and stood.

“I should get going, I suppose.”

She looked out the window, eyeing the eerie green glow of the ghost lamps critically. “It’s a bit late, don’t you think? Not very safe.”

“I have my rapier on me.”

The corners of her mouth tightened.

“I’d feel better if you left in the morning.”

And so they ended up in her living room, him sitting on the floor and her sitting on the couch, dragging her fingers through his soft curls. They talked about everything and nothing, like the recent layoffs at Rotwell’s and what George’s new associates were like. He made them sound marvellous. It was obvious why he’d leave Fittes. Why he’d leave her.

“The three of us…we live at 35 Portland Row.”

“Mhm.”

“And there’s this doughnut shop down the street from there.”

She lightly scraped his scalp teasingly.

“So that’s why you left.”

She could feel him smile despite himself.

“We should go, someday. You’d love it.”

A vision trickled into her imagination - she and George standing at the end of some empty cobblestoned road with soft, pillowy doughnuts dripping sugar down their knuckles, sprinkles melting into their fingerprints. It’s evening, and the sun is almost painfully intense, beating down a lovely glow over the scene. She’s distantly aware of the impending danger of the rapidly approaching nighttime, but for now, George is standing in front of her in a soft shirt, the edges of his face kind and blunt, the almost permanent furrow of his brow melted away in the liquid sun, reaching out to swipe a thumb at the corner of her mouth -

“Get some rest.” Her voice was thick with a longing for such golden yet treacherously illusory days. George leaned back, resting his head on the couch with half-lidded eyes, his breathing evening out as he drifted off. She gently slipped her fingers out of his hair. She gently pulled his glasses off but before she could put them someplace safe, she was out like a light herself.

She had a fitful sleep and blearily woke up a few hours later, George’s head an oddly comforting weight against her knee. She groggily pulled herself up and tossed a blanket at the figure slumped against her couch before fetching a glass of water and some paracetamol.

Shortly after, George lurched awake like he was sweating out a fever, heart thudding and eyes restless. He groaned, no doubt wincing at the pounding behind his eyes. He caught sight of the water and medicine placed next to him but looked away after a moment of consideration. She raised her eyebrows pointedly, knowing only too well the kind of hell his overactive mind was capable of putting him through.

“How’s your head?”

She hadn’t meant to sound that sarcastic, but it was enough for him to get the hint. He relented, taking a sip of water and then one of the pills just for good measure.

"Good. Now go home and get some proper rest, you moron."

She watched him stumble down the road till he turned the corner, trying to hide how shaken she was by his panic. She sighed wearily. Only a month at Lockwood & Co. and already he would be a desperate wreck without them. She turned back inside, trying to ignore how empty her dining table looked without his typewriter and how vacant she felt without that flimsy excuse for him to see her again.

Years passed. She and George somewhat kept in touch, but it had still been extremely startling when Lockwood & Co. reached out to her with plans to expose her employer, Marissa Fittes. Amongst the tragedy of Portland Row being reduced to rubble, Kipps nearly dying and the Skull almost moving on, unemployment was the least of her concerns.

Still, it wasn’t all sad once Lucy had proposed to Lockwood after one too many failed attempts by the latter party. They had planned a relatively intimate affair, only inviting some old friends of the ex-Fittes employees of the group.  

They held it at an inexpensive banquet hall just a few minutes away from Portland Row. Lucy looked gorgeous and glowing with happiness under the gentle warm lighting, and Lockwood looked dashing in a suit not much more formal than his regular one. He spent the majority of the reception denying that he had teared up at the first glimpse of Lucy at the end of the aisle, insisting that his best man was a pathological liar.

After the main event, the guests milled around, having drinks, and occasionally congratulating the happy couple. As expected, Lockwood became very drunk very quickly, enough to pull out some terribly nonsensical yet oddly stirring comment.

“Here’s to the first day of the rest of our lives.”

She glanced across at George. He met her eye. They immediately looked away. She could have sworn she felt a hitch of some breath between them. She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. Lucy was desperately trying to shut up an overly emotional and hence overly talkative Lockwood who looked ready to launch into a speech no one asked for.

“That’s enough now, or we’ll have Kipps bawling all through dinner.”

It wasn’t exactly a sit-down dinner, though there was appropriate seating. Half of the guests were eating and the other half were having fun with some party games. She was watching Holly struggle at Twister when she felt someone slide into the seat next to hers - namely, the best man, George.

“Hey.”

She grinned, flushed from the champagne she had been sipping all evening. “Hey.”

“Having fun?”

“Lots.”

He couldn’t help but return her smile, looking a little tipsy himself. “I can tell.”

They ate in silence for a while, only the tinny sound of the radio’s strain and cheers from the party games filling the space between them.

“I think I missed you at the bouquet toss earlier.”

She nearly swallowed her spoon. He had noticed? He noticed her? She didn't know how to tell him that she couldn't see herself marrying anyone that wasn't him. How could she wake up every day knowing her better half was somewhere out there miles away, wondering if he wished for someone as moron-shaped as her?

“Oh, well, that’s not really my thing. More of a bridesmaid than a bride.”

She resumed eating, presuming that line of conversation to be over until she noticed he was still looking at her strangely, his cutlery stationary in his hands. Her chewing slowed in an attempt at dignity.

“…what?”

He lifted her right hand off her knife, making her heart thud dangerously. Wordlessly, he pulled off the sapphire ring on her middle finger and oh-so-delicately slid it onto her ring finger instead.

“I think you’d make a wonderful bride.”

She stared at the ring, speechless. It wasn’t a proposal, but it wasn’t nothing either. Maybe…maybe this was a second chance at something. Maybe he wouldn’t screw this up this time.

He almost reluctantly relinquished his grip on her hand. She didn’t dare meet his eye. Even his voice, quiet yet slightly rough, felt unbearable to hear.

“Were you mad? When I left without telling you?”

She had waited months to hear those words.

“I wished you'd talked to me about it first. Just...just to make sure your head was screwed on straight.”

He nodded, and they returned to their food, the silence a lot less giddily amicable now.

“So, would you have - “

“Absolutely not. God, no. I would have told you to stay ten feet away from Anthony Lockwood at all times.”

They looked over to where Lucy was helping Lockwood sit down, having unfortunately thrown his back out at Limbo. She winced. “He’s such a wild card.”

“I suppose I am too.”

She turned, curious, and he looked as though he regretted letting that slip out. Her voice dropped, taking on a softer edge.

“Not to me. Not when it’s you.”

He stared at her like there was something bloodied and hungry behind his eyes. She felt this twinge of something in her chest. Oh, how could she bear this? How could she bear him?

Sometimes, part of her wished she were a book - one completely enthralling and riveting, chock-full of secrets eager to slip out and lose themselves in thin air. Perhaps that was just a manifestation of her paralysing desire to be known and to be known by him.

“I should go,” George was saying as he finished up the last of his food. He stood, wiping his mouth, wandering off to find his coat. Maybe it was the liquor or the unfamiliar buzz of hope in the air tonight, but there was some odd tone of finality to his voice. She watched him leave, chewing her food thoughtfully, not feeling very hungry anymore.

As the minutes trickled by, it began to feel exhausting to be surrounded by so many happy couples, happy people, all that revolting joy and merriment. Only a short while after George had left, she located her own coat and weeded Lucy out of a throng of people doing the Macarena.

“I think I might head out now. Congratulations once again, Luce.”

“You too? Aww, thanks. Have you decided about the job offer from Madison?”

“I haven’t written back yet, but I think I’m going to turn them down. I was thinking about talking to Lockwood someday to see if he could take on one more employee. Plus, Madison’s a bit far out, and I’m pretty comfortable where I am.”

“Good. George might have just offed himself if it weren’t for his course at Edinburgh. I mean,” Lucy tripped over her words over the stunned look on her face, “I’m sure he was just kidding.”

“Hang on. Edinburgh?”

“Yeah. For his supervisor training. Did he not tell you? I thought for sure he…”

Lucy’s words muffled into oblivion and bled into some horrible ringing sound. Her mouth felt painfully dry. No. This couldn’t be happening.

“…he wanted to wait till after the wedding to tell Lockwood. Didn’t want to put a damper on things. Don’t get me wrong - I’m just as cut up about it, but…” They looked over to where Lockwood was watching the limbo game from afar with a forlorn expression. “…you know Lockwood.”

“What the hell, George.”

He jumped, freezing with his hand buried deep in his pocket, tediously hunting for his keys. She had managed to catch him at the front porch of Portland Row, looking especially guilty under the tepid glow of the ghost lamps.

“You’re training to become a supervisor?”

His face briefly twisted in annoyance. The audacity. “I told Lucy in confidence -“

“When were you going to tell me, Karim? Or were you just going to let me find out all on my own, like last time?” She wanted to laugh cruelly. There was nothing merciful about this knife in her chest. “I mean, why do this? Why lead me on and make me feel things and give me hope?”

“When have I ever led you on?”

“Then what was all that with my ring? Huh?” Tears sprang to her eyes once again, hot and shameful, stinging like a caustic disinfectant to an open wound. She felt so, so stupid.

“You said you didn’t care.”

“I did care!” she snapped. “Of course I fucking cared. I don’t think I could have stopped myself from caring, not when I know you like the back of my hand.”

“But you don’t care. No - tomorrow you’re going to board a train and move out of my reach and meet someone new to soothe the turmoil in your head and you won’t feel my heart bleeding for you. And if you’re very, very lucky, you might find some semblance of happiness -“

“I weigh you down!” The tirade died at her lips. Fury lined every shadow, every crevice of George’s face. He spat his words out with such venom, utter distaste. “I weigh you down…like a child. You pick me up when I fall down and kiss it better because that’s the kind of person you are. I can’t sentence you to a lifetime of running around trying to save me. I won’t do it. I’ll find someone else.”

A burden. He looked through her eyes and all he saw was a shrivelled excuse of a companion, dragging her into his depths of despair. She’d be lying if she said she never felt suffocated by his baggage. But there were some burdens you didn’t mind shouldering, not when you loved them so tenderly.

After all, who was going to unravel his every pause, stutter, sigh, and ache as she did?

“But who else is going to decode you like I do?”

George stiffened and shut his eyes regretfully as if he couldn’t bear to see that look on her face. A faint flush started creeping up his throat, peeking out from behind his starchy collar. “Don’t,” he whispered.

“Tell me,” she pressed, taking yet another step closer until their noses were barely an inch apart, “who else is going to know me? Truly know me?”

He let go of the breath he was holding and it fluttered across her cheek like the ghost of a kiss. They were venturing into intolerably intimate territory, and she could feel her pulse racing under the distracted brush of his thumb on her wrist.

There was a brooding, resigned look in his eye as if whatever he had been running from had finally caught up to him. He bowed his head and their foreheads touched. Her arms nervously reached around his neck, his hands on her waist steadying her as if to keep their balance on whatever strand of peace the moment had proffered them.

Her lips hovered over his shoulder, clavicle and jaw. She felt him reflexively tighten and loosen his grip, restless fingers fiddling with the folds of her dress and how they wrapped around her body. She brushed against the shell of his ear and felt a shiver run up his spine.

“Who else is going to hold you…like me?”

He turned a fraction and she briefly registered the lack of hesitation in his dark eyes before he finally closed the last of the gap between them. He pressed his lips to hers, soft yet intentional. He tasted like champagne and smoke and promises long-forgotten yet unbroken. It was a dizzying sort of relief to feel that years-old desperate want coiled inside finally melt through arms and fingertips buzzing with curiosity.

After that first touch, it felt as though they couldn’t get close enough, let alone pull themselves apart and have the brisk evening air rush in and nip at sensitive skin. She heard the doorknob rattle as George fumbled with it. After a short struggle, they stumbled into a nearly pitch-dark Portland Row, urgently shucking off each other’s coats and scarves. Her mind was running a mile a minute, her scalp tingling with electricity; white noise over the scrape of his teeth against her skittering pulse.

Her thoughts fragmented. At Fittes. In his room. In her apartment. His typewriter sitting glossy, polished, untouched, maddening -

George Karim was the most affected prick she had the misfortune of knowing. It was bad, bad luck that she was so irrevocably tied to him.

TAGLIST: @cielooci @mohinithoughts @neewtmas @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ahead-fullofdreams @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @mischivana @mitskiswift99

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

My new Babydoll

Orderly!Blue Jones x fem!reader

Summary: You're new at Lennox, obviously not crazy. Blue catched a guy harassing you and took matters into his own hands.

Warnings: None really, except Blue is talking about Lobotomy, acting scary and talks about babydoll's fate.

The last time I've watched this movie was couple years ago, so please have mercy if my memory is bad sometimes. ._.

Hmm this has some yandere energy...

"Enough!"

Blue's voice boomed through the common room. Two guards, one at each side of him escorted him as Blue crossed his arms, scowling at the male who harassed you infront of the other inmates.

"Bring her to my office." Blue ordered one of his guards, who gently took you by the hand and with the other on your back, escorting you to Blue's office.

The troublemaker was brought infront of Blue, who was looking at him with a stern expression, demanding answers. "What were you thinking?"

"Blue, I-I'm sorry, I swear, I–"

Blue raised a finger, making the guy shut up. He licked his lips and slowly leaned in. "But that's why you're here..."

The guy stood quiet, giving Blue his full attention.

"You know, I was thinking... maybe you need our special treatment, hmm? For our 'big' troublemakers?"

The guy shook his head rapidly. "No please.."

Blue just smiled eerily at him, leaning down until he was at his level and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I think we should arrange the Lobotomy for you, okay?" Blue looked at him with a false sense of security, knowing this guy is doomed.

The guy swallowed hard, he didn't knew what was coming. He nodded.

Blue smiled. "Good, it will help you with your... behavior. You'll see." he gave a nod towards the guard, who led the guy away.

Blue has made his way back to his office, where a guard stood at the door. When he entered, he saw you sitting on a chair, still looking a bit shocked from what had happened to you.

"Baby are you alright?" Blue asked, walking over to you and kneeling down on one knee.

You nodded, looking down at him.

Blue put his hand on your knee, rubbing gently with his thumb. "Look," he spoke in a soft tone "We at Lennox are used to give a..." he paused to think "Puppy treatment to our new guests." he licked his lips again. "And I'm so sorry for what happened to you, dollie..."

He patted your knee, "But we can also be quite luxurious to those who behave." he straightened up, moving to sit at his desk.

As Blue sat down, he took a pen and scribbled something down before he looked back up at you. "Come here." he beckoned with a finger.

He watched you get up and obediently making your way over to him. He was already proud you're so obedient.

Blue patted his thighs, indicating for you to sit on his lap.

When he saw you hesistate, he tilted his head a little and smiled. "I won't bite." he flashed a grin right after.

You moved to sit down on his lap, Blue wrapped his free arm around your waist to pull you closer. "Let's get down to business, alright?"

Your eyes landed on what seemed like a patient list of Lennox. Your name was the only one at the 'new arrivals' section. You catched a name on the list, which was crossed out but still readable.

Babydoll

"Who's that?" you spoke up softly, pointing at the name.

Blue's chin moved to rest on your shoulder, you didn't notice the small smile forming on his lips. "She was a patient."

Your curiousity has been piqued. "Oh she got healed?"

Blue had to stop himself from grinning. "You could say that. She received our special treatment."

"Did it help?"

Blue hummed. "M-hm... yes..."

"Why did she receive the treatment?" you asked.

Blue let out a soft laugh. "You know curiousity kills the cat?"

"Please Blue."

You were so cute. So innocent even to him!

"She was good at first. But she caused trouble, just like that patient did to you." he put the pen down and his other arm wrapped around you. "She caused some very big trouble, she was a bad girl, so we had no other choice."

"Did I cause trouble?" you couldn't help but ask.

Blue chuckled, hugging you closer to him. "You? Aww, baby. Of course not."

You smiled. He sounded so genuine.

"But..." he trailed off. "If you promise me you'll stay out of trouble you will get some privileges other patients don't have."

"Like what?"

"Walking around freely. But you have to promise me something."

You nodded.

"You'll be good. Be a good girl and your time here will be nothing but joy."

"Really?"

Blue nodded.

"What do you think? Wanna be my new Babydoll?"

[chiiyuuvv]

Hiya, can I request Riize and how they act when they like y/n? Ty 🩶

• PAIRING — student!riize x gn reader

• GENRE — crushes, shyness, fluff, and more fluff ♡

• WORD COUNT — 634

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — the way i giggled when i read this. I was already planning a sohee and anton fic where they like the reader (anton inspired by my hc i wrote for xikers, hunters part (when xikers like you)) but after writing this hc, i could literally write any one of the members.. so please request if you want to see a fic based off of this!!

• TAGLIST — @moonlightdarlings

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

SHOTARO ☆

If shotaro wasnt smiley then, he sure is now

Love at first sight, his heart beating a million beats per hour, this stupid grin on his face

And since hes extroverted, his is sure to let you know that hes here, wanting to gain your attention

Secretly loves it when someone mistakes you two as a couple because how flirty and touchy he is, but denies it in case it makes you uncomfortable

Hes just so smiley and giggly at whatever you say or do, he tried to hide it at first but theres really no use; hes sure that his like for you is obvious ♡

EUNSEOK ☆

Hes so gentlemen

Opening doors for you, giving you a new pen when you run out of ink, helping you with your homework

And has this cheeky smile whenever you thank or compliment him

Would shoo away the members when hes around you, because he knows they will start teasing him

Tucks some hair behind your ear subconsciously, his breath hitching when he realizes how close you are to him, his eyes going down to your lips ♡

SUNGCHAN ☆

Honestly think hes into the quiet type. Reserved and out of the way, he would find it so intriguing and cute

Wants to get your attention so back, literally changing himself so he could match your interest

And just feels so insecure because what if you think hes doing too much? What if hes too loud?

But all of his thoughts were shut down when he catches you stare at him

"Meet me at the rooftop." You would place the note on his desk as you walk by, your ears red ♡

WONBIN ☆

Despite his cool and handsome persona, he is such a scaredy cat

Has the hugest crush on you but hes too scared to say anything so his members had to push him to you

"G-go get icecream with m-me?" "GREAT, BYE!!" he didnt even give you the chance to speak as he runs away, his members having to fill in for him. Giving you the time, place.. etc.

Arrives 30 minutes early because hes so nervous and fidgety so he tries to calm himself down and practices what he would say to you

But the preparation were pointless when you walk in the little shop, his face getting so red as he thinks you look so pretty. Even if what you're wearing isnt much ♡

SEUNGHAN ☆

Feel like hes not one to hide his feelings

Just "oh, shes pretty cute. I'll ask her on a date."

And he does that with so much confidence, not an ounce of fear in any of his words

And everything was going to according to plan, he'd arrive a few minutes early to make sure everythings okay

But as soon as you sit down, hes a blushing, stuttering mess. His face completely red as he avoids your eye contact. Damn it. - seunghan ♡

SOHEE ☆

The type to daydream about your future together with this goofy smile on his face

Purposely sitting a seat or two behind you, just so he could stare at you

But quickly bats an eye when you make eye contact with him, as hes suddenly invested in his work (he hasnt even written his name yet)

Always holds his breath whenever your near, his palm sweaty

And stutters like crazy when your assigned to work on a project together ♡

ANTON ☆

Shy, shy, shy, shy, shy

Barely says a word whenever your near, also the type to stare at you during class and daydream about each others future

You were a friend of one of his friends, so he was kinda forced to talk to you

And cringes at himself when he says something stupid, but you always find it so cute

Randomly blurts out how pretty you are ♡

[jellazticious]

“You can’t rush art”

I think everybody can recall the quote from Toy Story 2. From the most satisfying part of the movie where we see a montage of Woody getting restored by a toy maker. It’s one of my favourites too, I absolutely loved looking at the different procedures used to fix a single toy. The toymaker’s precision and care were found mesmerizing by everyone. As a multi-hatted artist, one that can draw, sculpt, animate, and write, I can say that it’s spot on that there’s so much to do for a single piece of work. HOOO boy, you should see how me and Beefy are organizing Cursed to Charm, there’s so much.

For the upcoming webcomic, we design characters, give each and every one of them their stand-alone story, design different clothes, create the map, draw renders and posters, polish scripts for the episodes, plan to program the comic’s own website, make the backgrounds eventually, etc. To people who aren’t artists or take art for granted, to them, art is stroking a paper using a pen and BAM instant masterpiece. No no, it’s more than that.

Another thing I’d like to say about the comic is that the progress is very slow yet very fruitful because of the time taken. Me and my co-author came up with the idea at late November, which makes the comic four months old now. However, with all that time passed, we have already finalized the list of nine episodes of season one. We have also written seven out of nine summaries from that season before actually writing the dialogue in detail. We have a rough four seasons worth of story progression in the span of four months. Nyeh, excuse the little ramble about CtC, I’m just giving insight of how much should be done for the production of anything which leads us to the next point.

Art production in general.

Movies, animation, shows, video games, books, comics etc etc

All of these are part of art, some people would deny because it isn’t sophisticated like they’re lead to believe art is supposed to be. Art is literally just creation man, can’t get any simpler than that 😩 if you made something, then you made something woohoo! Congratulations you made art, cooking included. It came free with your fucking humanity.

Anyway, just like the webcomic, every single one of these listed also have a set of different procedures that will piece together the final output.

Let’s take Disney movies as a specific example, I want to talk about something real quick.

So one time, I was watching Tarzan with my parents and we stuck around for the end credits. My mom pointed out the animators are divided into sections and there’s so much names on them. There are different teams of animators for each character and these teams are divided in two for the storyboarders and the clean up artists. When the credits rolled a bit more, it showed that the background artists and colorists also have their own sections too. There’s so much people working on different body parts of a movie. I got the habit of reading end credits of every movie I watch, animated or live action, then I would compare the credits of old and new movies. Boy, let me tell you that the work space on old movies are FILLED compared to newer movies. One thing I noticed about Disney movies although, is that the old movies have more sections compared to new ones. The major difference of old Disney and new Disney are the length of the credits and the time gap of the movies. I’m really not trusting the way new movies have way shorter end credits while the publish time of new movies are getting narrower and narrower. Before the 2000s, movies usually come out twice a year and sometimes there’s a two-year hiatus before the next batch of movies are published. Now there’s at least two or three movies that publish yearly while also releasing a bunch of shows in the middle of it. I really don’t understand business talk with the way it sacrifices quality over quantity. Like I get having money is great and all but what’s the use of hoarding it? Especially when there’s so much news of people about to be in poverty and mass layoffs. Why should companies earn money if they’re not going to redistribute it back to the economy at all? This is a little off topic but I want to point it out that people in the 80s used to buy whole houses by being a janitor but nowadays people could barely afford a one room apartment even with three jobs. The Simpsons is an example of this because it was set in the 90s and the family is constantly reminded of how “poor” they are. They even created an episode that talks about the same job that supported people’s fathers will no longer support you nowadays (Poorhouse Rock ep22 s33). It’s fishy and I’m salty about it especially because I hear so much people complaining about how they’re not being given a chance to work. Anywho! Let’s go back to art.

I’m just spitballing my thoughts here but somehow they’re connecting either way. All I’m trying to say is that for the people who care so much about the quality of art, it’s noticeable that they get downgraded, not just by the look but by the way they’re written.

Example.

Clone High.

Jesus Christ, the new show is a nightmare and an insult to the original Clone High. The difference is clear with this one. The original Clone High was heavy satire of every single high school trope used in shows and movies. Every single character was meant to have one personality and that personality is the butt of the joke. The original did not care about making the characters appealing because the appeal is found in the way they interact, they clash so much and a lot of them are idiots. The writing is funny because the dialogue flows so easily unlike the renewal. The renewed Clone High takes itself too seriously and it tries too hard to be relevant. It’s funny to me that fans can draw the original’s art style more accurately than the animators hired. What’s even more frustrating is that concept art was released from the art head and the concept art looked way better than what they decided on the final designs. Other than the art style that tries to be marketable, the writing is insufferable with the way they try to be “relatable” without understanding why the original jokes were funny to begin with.

Now we’re all familiar with this cheap tactic of using the title of successful franchises to grab clicks and views. It’s every live action Disney film, it happened to Scooby Doo, Marvel shows, FNAF, some Cartoon Network shows, Megamind, and now even Kung Fu Panda. Basically MILKING. It would have been better if the productions TRIED to understand the original’s intentions which they forgot about. They ended up being disappointing at best and soulless at worst. I won’t be explaining much cuz I’ve already reached the minimum word count lmao. I’m just rambling here, I better not see anyone interrogate me in asks or replies. ANYWAY, I’m gonna get to the point real quick.

Back to the quote at the start of the post, people tend to forget that. Art is a skill, not a button people press and it gives you pretty pictures or videos. Art is a job and an effort. While art is subjective and it differs from person to person, one thing for certain is that art that is made ingenuinely will never be better than art that is made because the artist loves art. This is why the Tom & Jerry reboots with the lineless art style even if they had a storyboard artist who understood the cartoon wackiness (which were discarded for a “cleaner” and faster style). This is why it’s so frustrating to see concept art of movies which have more appeal than the final 3d models. This is why FNAF Security Breach was nearly unplayable.

Because they all rushed art.

They rushed in favour of what is marketable, no matter how unappealing it is. Everything could have been better, some final products are good, but all of them could have been better. As good as what were released pre 2010s when production had a passion. You can’t spell heart without art.

I’m just really passionate about art in any form since it’s everything that created me too. I will not be here at this point in time if it weren’t for me learning that there’s so much beauty in the world if you could just squint and appreciate why that’s so. I’m defined by my works and it only hurts and infuriates me that people who have the ability and accessibility to create better art than I do waste it for their personal gain or selfish intentions. Everyone could be a better person because of art just as it did to me. Again, it came to us the moment we’re born, art isn’t just a pretty picture, it’s everything we create out of love, passion, time, and effort.

But really, to the wise words of Chef Saltbaker, “like any good bake, heart and soul is the secret ingredient”

You can’t rush art.

[fountainpenguin]

Origin of the Pixies

Fairly OddParents ~ (August 2016 - Ongoing)

"Talk of these things should be reserved for fathers and sons. I'm Head Pixie. I'm your aldra mór, but I'm no one's daddy."

Head Pixie backstory longfic

Drama & Angst (I hear there's fluff in here somewhere...)

First-person POV

Dead Dove

Summary

After being infected with Wolbachia pipientis - the real-life bacteria that causes insects to reproduce asexually - Fergus Whimsifinado soon finds himself a single father struggling to provide for 500+ genetically-identical offspring he never really wanted in the first place. Suddenly becoming the first member of a brand new species means complex politics to deal with, a Pixie World to build, a shipping company and a therapy business to manage, and a budding interspecies war to survive... ... All on top of raising children.

Not Rated; Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Read on FFN | Read on AO3

Chapter Recaps | Gen 2 Pixies Sheet

Cloudlands AU - Detailed warnings & other AU info

More Fairly OddParents 'fics

This work has a largely T tone. Borderline M for themes like 'queen bee' insect people fighting to the death, getting abducted by Cupid's family for study, being forced into a will o' the wisp's harem to ensure milk for newborn Sanderson, and general themes of non-human reproduction, child loss, and war.

Head Pixie-centric longfic with a focus on:

- Growing up with freckles in insect society, where you're typecast as a violent "queen bee" who'll stop at nothing to defend his hive. Set Daddy's fortune aside for wergild; you're gonna need it. - Accidental selkie wife addition (Please don't send her back to Mom; she needs this job) - Local party boy struggles to prioritize fatherhood above raves - Getting abducted by Cupid's hot grumpy mom, who's absolutely willing to push you to your limits if it means she can unravel your biology and show you off to all her friends - Raising little worker bees... I mean, drone pixies who regularly need their faces licked for pheromone exposure or they'll cry - Cloudlands' most eligible rich bachelor rejects hugs because he fears bee-instinct cuddle death attacks; more at 11 - Building a company up from nothing. Gotta start somewhere- Why not with cupcakes? (Maybe cute kids are good for something after all...) - Raising an heir you're biologically programmed to kill... It's fine- Sis is raising the spare - Why did we think adopting a cù sìth that can steal your soul if you lie was a good idea? - The cool girl who founded the human godparenting division is afraid you'll hurt her with your big, scary muscles and she'd rather "just be friends." oh no. - WHAT midlife crisis? Hahaha... Don't read Chapter 37. - The war over godkids from "Balance of Flour" (Season 7); H.P. and his 4 eldest pixies are drafted on the Fairies' side. Huh... That's gonna cause issues with the whole "BFF with the leader of the Anti-Fairies" thing... - Divorce? Child loss?? Raising some anti-fairy kid with Anti-Cosmo? Uh-oh. - His hat is also a pen

Read on FFN | Read on AO3 | Blog Tag

"I'm impolite and I make fun of everyone! I'm immature but I will stay this way forever <3" (x)

[peaky-shelby]

Does anyone have any quick blurbs they want me to write about new romantics? It can be anything

😭

Do something that involves Uncle Messi. You and your anons talked about it before. Maybe not a full Uncle Messi narrative but definitely something that involves him. I would really love for you to explore Uncle Messi and Kylian’s relationship. There is something there.

New Romantics — blurb: Uncle Messi

Leo didn't mind being alone. He also didn't mind anyone else's business. Sometimes he'd have his lunch alone, outside, especially when Ney wasn't around. He liked eating his salad in peace, enjoying the silence and refueling his introvert self before the next leg of practice. But he didn't mind company either, which is why he smiled when he saw Taylor approaching him. Her folder in hand, a pen in the other.

"can i sit?” she asked and he nodded while chewing the greens on his plate. She smiled and sat next to him, leaving her things on the table. "How's today so far?"

"bien." He said, swallowing. "You?”

"same. I wanted to talk to you about Ky-- number 7, i mean." He noticed she corrected herself a little too quick. Like she had said something she shouldn't have. "Are you two on better terms now?”

He shrugged "i don't know, i never really had a problem with him."

"i was hoping you could try and approach him more. Not as Lionel Messi, greatest of all time but just Leo... You know what i mean?” she paused "losing the cup is still an open wound for him but i think with champions league he's gonna get his drive back."

"i wouldn't know what to say."

"just... I don't know. Talk? Listen i know he can be an asshole, and abrupt sometimes. Most times he is hard to talk to, looks at you with those burning eyes like a dog warning you to not get to close, annoying you till you stop trying. He's been rude in the past--” Messi listened, making note of how she was moving her hands and talking about Kylian like she had all these things kept in between her lips for a while now and she was looking for the right person to dumb them on. "And he's got this awful habit of knowing he's great, which is driving me insane 99% of the time. Don't even get me started on his laugh when he knows he has said something horrible but likes to pretend it's funny." Leo was taking slow bites, weirded out by her entire monologue "but he's nice... Other times."

"when he's sleeping?”

"no! he's just as annoying when he sleeps.”

Leo raised his eyebrows.

"hakimi says he snores" she said quickly. "Anyway not the point. If you could talk to him and approach him more during practice, that would be great. He still admires you, he always has... And he's trouble but he's a good kid when he wants to be and is trying to change for the better. So, help him try, will you?"

He nodded "i will."

"thank you." She leaned in, kissing his cheek. She left him right after that and Messi took a deep breath, smiling. Ready to enjoy the rest of his salad when he was ambushed by someone else.

"talking about me again, was she?”

Leo almost chocked by the unexpected appearance of Kylian. He coughed, trying to regain his composure while Kylian started talking. "She wants us to be best friends, you know? And don't get me wrong you're a good guy but i got one bother and that's Haki! She's always whistling away, number 7 you're late, number 7 you're too arrogant--” Leo was still coughing. He took a sip from his water "and i get it's her job. I'm good with that now but she's obsessed with me" Leo left the glass on the table, clearing his throat. "And i can't say anything because if i do she'll make me go deaf with that fucking whistle." Kylian finally notices Leo closing his eyes "you ok Man?”

"fine..." He said in a raspy voice.

"listen just so she shuts up about this, you know, I'm good with you. So you can come telling me your shit and I'll come telling mine. Like buddies." Leo wiped himself with one of the napkins. Half listening to Kylian, half wanting to leave. "We can share Neymar and all. I mean You don't have to talk to me-- bet that's what she instructed you to. Didn't she?"

"i--"

"she's messing up with everything all the time. She even changed the schedule so i wouldn't be same time with Haki on the gym. She says we talk to much, do you believe this Leo? Merde-- she needs someone to control her."

Leo waited, making sure Kylian wouldn't start again. Then he said "do other coaches get to you as much as she does?"

"she doesn't get to me--” he stopped as he saw the look in Leo's eyes. He gulped "she's louder than the other coaches."

"and harder to impress" added Leo. Kylians eyes met his and Leo could see him mentally shrinking before him. "Do you want to impress her?”

He hesitated. "I... No... I mean..." He blew air from his cheeks. He shook his head "no.. i don't care. Why would I want to impress her? I just wanna do my job. I mean yeah fine if she's impressed by it then that's a bonus because at least she won't he complaining." Leo tried to fight back his smile, Kylian looked at his hands on the table "she's likable when she's not complaining"

Leo nodded but said nothing. Kylian looked at him again. Patted his hand on the table. "Good talk!" He said and got up to leave.

"hey ky-”

Kylian turned to his direction.

"when you wanna rant like this. Do it to me. Don't do something dumb and go to someone else instead."

Leo could see in his eyes that he knew exactly what he meant. "thanks." He mumbled and left.

Leo looked down at his salad. He took a full bite "Anto's gonna love this."

[yellowhollyhock]

so. Roman writes a script for an episode that he knows is good. He's very excited. He feels like he finally did something right.

Shows it to Logan. Gets it back all marked up.

accidentally got long

It starts a big fight. Easy for us to imagine how this goes because they have this or adjacent fights all the time.

Janus is on Roman's side which would make Roman more angry. Virgil is on Logan's side which hurts especially (idk if there's new content but last I know Roman and Virgil were pretty much the only consistently getting along, maybe Janus and Remus idk). Remus is there for a good time (see Roman's ideas are not good you should use mine). Patton manages to hurt everyone's feelings by taking Roman's side but sounding unsure about it (poor little guy is trying so hard to take care of everyone).

Roman has some good points: why is Logan criticizing his work when it's going to be reviewed by the writing team anyway? Isn't the most important thing at this stage for Thomas to be excited about his own ideas?

Virgil probably gets a little defensive here, like okay wow I'm sorry that Thomas can't always feel great and excited about his creations all the time. Did you even think about how much worse it would be if it was the writing team making all these corrections instead of Thomas doing it within his own head?

And then something clicks for Logan. All these corrections? What do you mean?

And now Virgil's defending Roman as best he can and still be honest with himself. You did kinda rip into it, Teach. I know you're holding is to a high standard but geez, look at all this red ink

Logan: Huh. It sounds as if the two of you think that because I marked it excessively, I disapproved of the script.

Thomas, glancing between them: Well yeah that's usually what red ink means (?)

Logan: No--I mean, yes, but this isn't high school. We're working at a higher level here.

Roman: And now you're calling me a high schooler?

Logan *adjusts glasses*: I specifically said this isn't high school. It is true that, especially for beginning writers, revision marks are usually an indication of

m i s t a k e s

Logan: Wow. As I was saying, Roman is not a beginning writer. I marked the text so excessively because I was engaging with the text. Seeing as it is, in fact, a draft, and will be submitted to peers for review, it is important that Thomas i prepared to discuss the material.

And they're all huh wha? but he wrote it tho?

Logan: Yes, but it's my job to take it from a daydream to a plan. If you read my notes, you would find--

Patton: Red ink!

Logan, thrown off: Yes, that's--we've established that I've made marks--

Virgil, recognizing an Epiphany from the Heart when he sees one: What are you getting at, Patton?

Patton: I mean, this isn't high school anymore!

Logan: Okay, you're just reiterating what I've said.

Patton: Sorry, what I mean is--when Thomas was in school, revision wasn't really treated as part of the creative process--it was a judgment from an authority figure, like a teacher! Or a parent

Logan, now interested: What are you getting at, Patton?

Patton: Thomas has a negative emotional reaction to the color red in that context.

Roman: But that's ridiculous!

Janus: Red has more positive connotations than negative. That's basic color theory :3

Virgil: Don't.

Remus: BLOODY BODY DRAGGED ACROSS THE FLOOR OF THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL

Patton is horrified

Logan, annoyed: Patton, you were saying?

Patton: Oh! Glitter pens!

Thomas: Glitter pens?

Roman: Glitter pens?! Now is not the moment for a consolation prize!

Logan: Oh, that's actually quite brilliant, Patton.

Virgil: What??

Logan: As I was saying, way back at (time stamp) before I was I N T E R R U P T E D, if you were to look at the notes I've made, you would find things circled that were phrased particularly well that I believe should go untouched to the final draft.

Roman: ... we would?

Logan: You would also find extensive notes on how the things you've implied in this script fit into the larger lore, which you have done particularly well this time.

Roman: Oh, I, uh--

Logan: I've noted places where we could have an opportunity to research a topic you've touched on and elaborate further, if the run time permits. If not we could possibly link relevant articles.

Roman: ... Oh.

Logan: Of course, minor grammar mistakes or small inconsistencies are also marked, but you do make a valid point there were not many of them this time.

Patton: So if we started color coding the different things Logan does when he revises, we could get Thomas to start thinking about the revision process differently!

Roman: Logan, I'm so sorry, I've been approaching this all wrong. I felt like you weren't even looking at my contributions or giving them a fair chance, and the truth is that's exactly what I was doing to you.

Logan: I appreciate you acknowledging that, Roman.

anyways the whole reason I put this on tumblr and not ao3 is because it has been sitting about here for uh. years now. So yeah they color code things and it helps Logan feel like he has a place in the creative process and also helps Roman not to take feedback so personally

[queen-of-meows]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

Thank you for this lovely ask ! I really needed it because I feel like I should promote my work more ^^.

5- Hell Frozen Rain

“Good afternoon. You know why you are here today ?” he asked to the Variant, but he was met with stubborn silence. “First of all, I want to remind you it's pefectly okay if you want to stop the session at anytime. You have seen several Analysts before and I know none of them has made any significant progress with you. But that's okay, I am a patient man. The goal of this session is to reconstitute the series of event that led you to your current situation and to help you to reintegrate a timeline that fits your need. Are you ready ? Where do you want to start ? Okay. Giving the particular nature of this case, the TVA doesn't have any footage that could be useful for this session. I hope you are aware this is not an interrogation, right ? Despite anything you might have convinced yourself of, you didn't do anything wrong. Nothing of what happened this night was your fault.” Mobius M Mobius had been the most professional Analyst his whole life, but something troubled him about this new case he had been asigned to. Why does he feel so much compassion for this Variant, and most important, what horrible, unspeakable thing happened to the woman named Sylvie Laufeydottir ?

I am not entirly satisfied with this on and I was thinking about rewriting it one day, but I think it's still worth mentioning it. It's a pretty short psychological thriller I wrote for Halloween a few years ago, based on my favourite Silent Hill game, Shattered Memories.

4- When she sings, she sings come home

Ghosts crave to go home. They live between the walls, in the interstices that separate one second to the next, in the limbo between sleep and wake. Home is forever out of reach to them, a when that can never become a there. Loki has spent a long time fighting against the TVA and Kang, and he'd like to finally return to Asgard, or whatever is left of it. He knows it won't be easy, but he wants to try anyway.

An undertermined time after the end of the series, Loki goes to New Asgard to visit Thor, but instead he finds Sif and the two of them catch up on the last decades.

Bittersweet reunion, past Sifki implied, mentions of Sylki and Thor/Sif.

3-Heart asks pleasure first

Ravonna was gone from the TVA, but the TVA had never really let Ravonna go. Only Mobius could understand. Using of patience and empathy, the former TVA analyst does his best to reach his oldest friend, and hopefully show her there is more to hope than there is to fear.

During a mission on Sakaar, Loki and Mobius ran into Ravonna Renslayer. They rescue (kidnap ?) her and take her to New Asgard. This story explore what happens during the following days. It's mostly long dialogues between Mobius and Ravonna about order, chaos and what we chose to fight for.

2- A warm bowl of soup

Mobius is going to leave the TVA for good to join Loki in New Asgard. In the Void, he asks Lady Loki to teach him how to make a good soup. But the reciepe of the butternut squash soup is not the only mystery he hopes to unveil.

This one-shot explores the relationship between Mobius and my beloved Lady Loki OC as she teaches him how to make butternut squash soup and opens up about her backstory.

1- The Little Bard's Tale

Dear reader (you are probably me in the future, so hi future me !), I found a blank journal and a pen today. I thought I might take them and write something. I don't really know what to write, or if I can write anything that will be worth reading one day. My name is Loki. For a long, long time I thought I'd never hear anyone call my name again, but I was wrong. I was very, very wrong, because there are a lot of other poeple called Loki in this place. And there's Sylvie who was also named Loki a long time ago. This story is not about the war raging on all across the Multiverse, or the brave heroes fighting for peace. In the Void, the war seems far away, but it doesn't mean we don't care. One day Mr Mobius came here with a lost girl named Rebecca. She is very important for the Council of Kangs and she's even more important for me. This is our story, as told by your favourite storyteller !

Okay, shameless promotion for the Little Bard's Tale because it's the story I have been focusing on in 2024 and it's probably the most personal thing I have written for a while. This is a story about finding joy and a purpose in life even when you don't exactly fit in.

The Little Bard has become like a companion in my daily adventures ☺️.

[multifandomfix]

Julia Hoffman Smut Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She’s usually pretty well spent after sex, though if you were to draw her a bath after, she’d be hard pressed to refuse.

B = Body part (favorite body part of their partner’s)

She adores your neck. Finding that sweet spot that makes you just melt under her touch is just the thing she needs after a long day.

C = Collar (do they mark you as theirs in some way?)

She’ll definitely cover you in hickeys unless you specifically ask her not to for some reason. She loves seeing the marks she left on you.

D = Dominant (who is in control? are they a top or bottom?)

Julia can really swing either way, and sometimes you don’t know which side you’ll be getting. There are times where she just needs to let it all go and let you take the lead, and other times where she’s more than happy to play the role of domme.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She might not be an expert in all regards, but she definitely has a good amount of experience. She knows what she’s doing, but isn’t afraid to use your guidance to help please you.

F = Fuck (do they prefer to fuck or make love?)

Either or, really, but she leans a little more towards fucking.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Julia falls somewhere in the middle on this one. She likes to try and keep serious, but slip ups often get the both of you in a more silly mood.

H = Hot (what turns them on, gets them going)

Watching you deep in thought, chewing on the end of a pen, or your hair, or whatever. There’s just something about your expression in that state that gets her thinking about taking you to bed.

I = Insatiable (how do they act when they’re desperate to have you?)

Julia will make herself the only thing you can think about until you give in to her. Passing by so you can get a whiff of her perfume, sitting herself in your lap, anything to get your attention fixated on her until you’re just as desperate for her as she is for you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She’ll indulge herself quite often if she happens to be in the mood. She’s more than willing to explore her own body and pleasure.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Julia loves biting. Drives her absolutely mad. Whether it’s you biting her, or her biting you, it doesn’t matter. Neither does location. She loves it in any and all forms.

L = Location (favorite places to have sex)

She mostly prefers the bedroom, but she won’t say no to some bath time lovemaking or a heated session that lands you on the floor.

M = Mood (what’s the foreplay like? how do you get them in the mood?)

Again, biting is a great way to get her going, but you can also change something about your appearance throughout the day, like wearing significantly less clothing.

N = Naked (how do they undress? do they like to watch you undress?)

Julia undresses quick and dirty. She doesn’t have the patience to draw it out. She’d rather just get right down to it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Though she does prefer to be on the receiving end, she does have considerable skill when repaying the favor.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It’s a mix. She does like to be a little rougher on occasion, but it’s not a hard and fast rule.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

She does love a good quickie. It scratches an itch and with Julia, they really can be quite good fun.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Julia does like to experiment and take some risks. She typically doesn’t just dive right in to something new, but if you bring it up, she’s likely to at least try it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

One maybe two on average. Each round can go in for a while though. Her stamina is incredible.

T = Tryst (are they into casual sex or one night stands?)

She’s been known to indulge in her fair share of both. It used to be the way she preferred things, but not as much anymore.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She can either tease you for hours or cut right to the chase, with very little in between.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Julia can get loud. She also curses a bit, and depending on the type of play you’re engaging in, she can be a screamer.

W = Wait (how long do they wait before having sex with their partner for the first time?)

If the chemistry is there, then not too long. She likes to get you in bed early, see if you’re compatible in the bedroom before she puts in a ton of effort for something more.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Julia is beautiful. That pale skin practically shines under moonlight and she’s absolutely transfixing to behold.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s on the higher side. She’s not insatiable, but she likes to be getting some pretty regularly.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty quick, usually. She can fall asleep at the drop of a hat after sex. It’s actually kind of adorable.

For @fairyfaefiction

Julia Hoffman: @iticaboopsyou, @jona-lea, @music-bird, @fairyfaefiction, @chillinftladygaga, @geekyandgay98

[ktchewy]

A comparison of some pens I'm currently using and some new pens I acquired

Pens used:

- Uni-ball One P 0.38mm - LAMY Safari <EF> - TWSBI Eco <F> - Pilot Capless/Vanishing Point <F> - Pilot Kakuno <EF> - Ancora Ginza custom pen <MF> - Sailor Hocoro <M, F, fude> - Kakimori brass nib dip pen - Matsubokkuri glass pen

Lengthy review under the read more 🙈

The Uni-ball One P is sort of like the control for the comparisons? Idk LOL we know for sure it's 0.38mm so we can estimate how much thinner/thicker the other pens are. This pen is my go-to for quickly jotting things down, I highly recommend the Uni-ball One series of pens to anyone looking for a gel ink pen! It writes super smooth and has never smudged for me, the way the pens from the P series (P for pocket!) look is also super cute. After using the Uni-ball One pens, other non-fountain pens just don't hit the same. When I was filling out forms during check-in at one of the hotels in Japan, the staff gave me a regular ol' ballpoint pen and after one stroke, I went "nah I'm not writing with this" and grabbed my own pen from my backpack.

The LAMY Safari and TWSBI Eco are both a constant for me, they're always filled and hanging out in my pen case. I know some people don't like LAMY Safaris or TWSBI Eco's because of inconsistent nib qualities from the former and cracking issues from the latter but both of these pens have been pretty solid for me, never had any issues with them (knock on wood! 😳) I included them in this just to compare them with the new pens I got.

I am super in love with the Pilot Capless/Vanishing Point, probably my most favourite purchase of the trip! I used to think my TWSBI Eco wrote smoothly but the Capless straight up gliiiides across the paper. I picked this up in Itoya Ginza and had the chance to try out the EF as well and I think because that one was so thin, there was a bit of feedback so I didn't like it as much. I love writing with this pen so much, it sparks joy!! The retractable mechanism is very convenient for quickly putting the pen down and picking it back up again. Super recommend it to people who are looking to try a higher budget pen. For comparison, this matte black version sells for $275 CAD locally and I got this at Itoya for ¥18,540 (tax free hehe), which equals to about $175-180 CAD.

I actually already have a Pilot Kakuno with an M and F nib in my collection and I wanted to try a thinner nib but for some reason, just the EF Kakuno was super hard to find locally. I forgot to write on my sheet that it's currently filled with Sailor Shikiori Yamadori, because of the thinness though it's hard to see the turquoise colour of the ink haha. I think this size would be perfect for writing in the condensed space of my Hobonichi Weeks, I'll have to test it out in the weekly pages once the proper dates roll around.

The Ancora Ginza pen is also another pen I was looking forward to get, only because it was almost like going to Build-a-Bear but for pens LOL If you want to search more about it, you can try the official Japanese name of it: アンコーラMy万年筆. The model of the pen is a Sailor Profit Jr. and cost ¥4,400, I did research prior going on my trip it used to be ¥3,800 at some point 🥲 You can pick between a regular steel MF nib or a fude nib but I already have a fude Profit Jr so I picked the MF instead. My friend also commented that she thought I would be making multiple pens but I'll be saving my second custom pen for another time just so I have an excuse to go back to Ancora again >:) This nib also feels really nice to write with; no feedback, very smooth. I'm trying to limit my number of inked pens so this comparison was only done by dipping the nib in ink, I do want to fill this pen properly and try journaling with it soon! The only complain I have for this pen is that the cap or body feels a bit squeaky scratchy when I screw them back together, it's most likely just the part I grabbed but the quality might be hit or miss with them. The pen that my friend made is completely fine though! I think it's worth it to get your own pen made because it's such a unique experience.

If you're looking for a dip pen to play around or swatch multiple inks at once, then you'd have to try the Sailor Hocoro dip pen. I previously ordered the fude nib one online and I loved how convenient a dip pen is in general. But because of the nature of a fude nib, it took some time to get used and having to write at a specific angle to get the line width I wanted would sometimes give me wrist pain lmao :') Then not too long ago, Sailor announced that they were releasing a M nib so I added that to my mental list of things to buy, and then seeing how cheap stationery were in Japan, I picked up an F nib (no pen body) and the extra "feed" parts too. The feed isn't necessary but I like that I can write for way longer as opposed to not having it (check out this demo from Yoseka) In hindsight, I wish I had gotten the grey body in Japan. I do like the white body but I just want to keep the bodies with their respective nibs that I got them with and I feel like I might have mixed them up while swatching inks the other day LMAO

The Kakimori dip pen has been in my wishlist for a super long time and I'm very glad I held off from buying it locally in Vancouver or ordering it online. The sakura wood nib holder and the brass nib are listed on a local shop's site for $49.95 and $64.95 CAD respectively, on Kakimori's online shop they're ¥4,520 for the nib holder and ¥7,430 for the nib. In Kakimori's physical store, I got the nib holder for ¥2,970 and the nib for ¥4,950, with the conversion rate, that's like $27-28 for the nib holder and $46-48 CAD for the brass nib!!! 🥴 Price aside, this dip pen is another tool you can use for swatch inks or just drawing/doodling with it, I love the super thick line you can get when you hold it at a low angle, it's how I swatched all those lines in my Hobonichi Weeks. I've always read about how the stainless steel nib is harder and feels scratchier than the brass nib and after having tried both in stores, I do prefer the brass nib a lot more. The stainless steel nib felt like it didn't want to be written with, it just didn't feel pleasant imo. Some people might like feedback in their pens so I do recommend testing the pens out if you're able to before buying them.

This glass pen by Glass Studio Matsubokkuri ガラス工房まつぼっくり is my very first glass pen and I only chose this one because 1) the body is simple and short, I don't like the crazy swirly glass pens I commonly see 2) the triangular body means it's less likely to roll off the table 3) it was easily found at Ancora Ginza LOL I first discovered it when I was watching this youtube channel doodle/swatch inks with it. On Matsubokkuri's own website, they have F, M, and broad listed but there was only one size available at Ancora. I think mine is a F nib but I don't have any other glass pen to compare with so it's totally a guess, I'm just comparing it with my F fountain pens 🤔 The staff at Ancora gave me two pens to test out before purchasing since glass pens will have slight differences between them. They both wrote fine, I only picked the second pen I tried because the swirls in the nib of the first pen looked wonky to me.

If you made it this far down the post, thank you! I just wanted to share my thoughts on the pens that I have and hopefully this can give a little insight and help someone on their own pen journey!! 🫶

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

OH MAN OH BOY 👁️ 👄 👁️

Consider this post the sequel to my unhinged gushing over the Tsumsted Wonderland Riddle and Leona cards 🤡

GVDFG8OYADGDSOAFQHYEQE1671VADFOsqutv THEY DIDN'T MISS WITEH THESE, THE TWST TEAM KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOi NGH 😭

Like the previous two Tsumsted Wonderland SSR Groovies, the Azul and Kalim uncap artworks are references to the short animation that plays out whenever Tsum!Azul and Tsum!Kalim's abilities are used in the TsumTsum mobile game. They translated over really well to TWST, but there are also just enough new elements to make the illustrations stand out on their own and be representative of each respective dorm!!

ADBHAFSUFYOAVADFI I LIKE HOW AZUL'S GROOVY IS SO FUCKING AFSNHBHIASDOBIYSABI OVERDRAMATIC?????? It makes me think about all the crocodile tears they shed, especially during episode 4. FWJvskudgyoDWBWIdb OBVIOUSLYT I'AMDS BIASED TOWARSD ATH i S ONE OVER THE TSUM!KALIM onE , SORRY nOT SORRYB ASMD KALIM You can see from the background that they appear to be standing at the top of a stairwell and that the angle is a slight worm's eye view; Azul is also framed in a theatrical spotlight (similar to how he was spotlighted in episode 3 when he introduced himself as 220 students' new "master"). The twins, his beloved minions, on either side of him, shrouded in the shadows. Even the bubbles floating up appear ominous in the dim lighting, so high in volume that it gives the impression of franticness, like someone's been kicking and thrashing about, struggling in the water... until Octainvelle approaches. Everything about this image is such that you, the onlooker, is being forced to look "up" to them as your "saviors". Azul seemingly points right at you, a confident expression on his face--almost like he's calling you out specifically, daring you to approach him with your woes and wishes. AGVSVIUtaidsOVASD thE n THER'S E HIS TSUM JUST. BOUNC IN' ON DOWN WITH THE LITTLE HAT 😭Floyd regards you with barely a care in the world, tossing his magical pen up into the air before he catches it again, waiting for the order to close in on his target. And then Jade... YLDDlvhvyldQTF376324O8QERVUOQEFOYQFWOY He's on standby also waiting orders (and probably also just “standing by” in the sense of enabling his brother) but. 🤡 Unlike Floyd’s very open posture, Jade's keeping his own magical pen close, just like he keeps all of his metaphorical playing cards close to his heart. The magestone embedded in his magical pen is pressed to his lips, sealing the secrets within with lies. A ABSHJFAHAFLifI GoD I WANNA BE THAT MAGAICAL PENa SO DC BAD A NMRIGH TNoW 3yug41go8ayofoqegfyofyg2tdafogfadpbadfbfeyqcbaiyoidf OTL

Kalim's Groovy is also framed from a slight worm's eye view angle, but it creates a very different atmosphere! It feels more jubilant, like they're pulling off one last, big stunt to close off a night of partying and merrymaking. (The background here reminds me of the closing scene to Aladdin!) Are you ready? 1, 2, 3...!! And then the dark desert skies are born anew, bathed in the warm lights of fireworks popping off, fiery flowers blooming between the diamond-like stars. At that moment, Tsum!Kalim excitedly leaps up. Its rotund body is painted in shades of crimson and gold--as though Tsum!Kalim was the sun itself, come to pay a visit to the moon. Scarabia's dorm building and all the palm trees around you become nothing more than shadows, and you're taken in by the explosions above, sound and light rippling through the night. But the party's not over yet, the Scarabia duo reassure you. Come on, let's sing! Let's dance! The night is still young. Kalim may be holding his special staff in the Groovy art, but it doesn't really make him seem more authoritative or serious. It feels like he's just dropped an easy-going command to try some crackers or to join him for a dance! By contrast, Jamil kind of already looks like he's mid-dance 😂 with a leg lifted up and the fabric at his waist flowing out. With his magical pen pointed up like that, it gives the impression that Jamil set off the fireworks?? Which makes me think back to the Scalding Sands Fireworks event, when he had a very similar honor. ABHLDbkfvuoafvqeou1357968o2rb BY THE WAY IF YOU LOOK CLOSe3l y JAMIL'S DOING HIS INFAMOIUS TONGUE BLEP TOO qnisqtiyfetqfqvioad S NE V Er CHANGE, JAMIL. NEVER FUCKING CHANGE. THE TSUMSTED WONDERLAND SSR GROOVIES ARE TRULY UNMATCHED 😩 THIS IS THE HILL I WILL DIE ON, MY MIND CANNOT BE CHANGED. MY ASKN I N IS CLEAR, MY CROSPS HAVE BEE N WATERED, ALL IS RIGHT Wi TH THE WORLD and yes, I still want to chew up the Tsums and become one with their marshmallow-like cuteness--