#I used to edit all the mistakes out so it'd be perfect because I was afraid of vulnerability

[artwithsydney]

I rekindled an ancient favorite... Here is the version where I drew it with pen and left the mistakes in because art, life, and love alike are beautiful in their imperfection

[snowballseal]

okay halloween request... PUMPKIN CARVING WITH THE BOYS ? for some of them I feel like it'd be their first time, and for others I think it could get so chaotic and messy 😭 it's always something I've personally enjoyed and look forward to every year, so I'd super interested to see your take on it !

Carving pumpkins with them (LaDS)

Note: LOVED this! This is what I was hoping for this season. I honestly just went with the first idea I had for each, and I hope it suits what you wanted!

Also, there might be a few mistakes because I just really want to post it. I'll go through and edit it later.

Hope y'all enjoy!!!

---

Rafayel

“Rafayel! Hey, wait- No-!”

“Inspiration can’t wait,” the artist declares, twirling his scoop theatrically before diving into his pumpkin. “Sometimes you have to make a mess for the sake of creativity.”

“You can’t just wait ten seconds for me to put the tarp down?” You can’t help but laugh, desperately trying to spread the plastic out before pumpkin guts end up everywhere. And failing, you might add. 

“It’s my studio, it’s used to my mess already.” Rafayel shrugs his shoulders with one of those stupidly charming smiles. “Now hurry! This lighting is perfect for carving.”

“Okay, okay, don’t leave me behind,” you chirp, all but abandoning the stupid tarp. If he doesn’t care about the mess, why should you? “Scoot over, fishie!”

Rafayel easily makes room for you to jump onto the couch next to him. Besides the tarp, everything is already set out. Your pumpkins, the tools, even a few sketched designs you both worked on. While yours are all pretty simple, or classic as you would so vehemently insist, Rafayel’s are intricate and full of life, much like the rest of his art. Much like him.

A warm mix of nostalgia and giddiness swirl in your chest as the smell of pumpkin slowly fills the air. There’s something so satisfying about hollowing out your pumpkin, sticky, orange insides falling to the floor around you. It’s a mess. A huge mess. But that makes it all the more fun. It feels exactly like when you were a kid.

You glance to the side, biting down on a smile when you take in the equally excited look on Rafayel’s face. He looks so carefree in the golden light of the evening, completely focused on the task in front of him, tongue poked out between his lips ever so slightly. So adorable. 

“How are you going to finish if you stare at me the whole time, cutie?”

Rafayel casts you an amused look, having completely caught you in your moment of admiration. Heat creeps up your neck, tinging your skin an adorable shade of pink in his eyes. He loves the rare moment he catches you off guard, leaving you a sputtering, flustered mess. Like now.

“I wasn’t staring,” you try to defend yourself, though your voice pitches up, a telltale sign of your lie.

“Mhm.” The artist’s lips quirk into a smirk and he leans his chin against his hand, eyes never leaving yours. And that only flusters you more.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Heart racing, you give Rafayel’s cheek a playful push, just to break away from the warmth in his eyes, the warmth you could drown in if you look for too long. Though the low chuckle he breathes out against your palm only makes you blush darker. “I was just- I was just thinking. That’s all. And I just happened to be looking at you when I spaced out. That’s all.”

“Hmm, and what were you thinking about?” He presses, leaning into your touch with that infuriating smile, trying to find your gaze, though you keep it stubbornly locked on your pumpkin. 

“Well, I was uh- I was thinking about um- How we could put a wager on who’s pumpkin will look better?” Oh, that’s a stupid idea. A really stupid idea.

And Rafayel knows it, too. He perks a brow, smile turning almost wolfish, “Oh yah? Alright. What would you like to wager?”

Time to backpedal. “Ummm, maybe the winner gets to pick the movie for our next movie night?”

“That’s not very interesting,” he hums, that all too familiar mischievous glint sparking in his eyes, the one that makes your pulse flutter. You’re totally done for. “How about the winner gets one wish from the loser? And they have to fulfill it, no matter what.”

Yup. Definitely done for.

But you can’t back down, right?

“Deal.”

“Alright then, you better try your best, because I don’t plan on losing, cutie.”

“You’re on, fishie.”

What begins as an excuse quickly fans into a real competition. You dive into your pumpkin with a new enthusiasm, as does Rafayel. Even if you have no shot at winning, you’re not just going to give up and let him swipe victory out from under you. You may not have an artistic bone in your body, but surely your determination can make up for some of that.

Or not.

You bite back a laugh when you finally draw back to survey your sad carving. It’s definitely a step up from the ones you carved as a child, in no small part to the skills you’ve developed in handling sharp objects, but it’s nothing jaw dropping. Still, you’re proud of your little pumpkin pal. You do your best to hide him from Rafayel’s curious eyes, determined to have your big reveal.

“Done, yet?” You ask, unable to hide your building anticipation. You’re practically vibrating on the couch.

“Just one mooore…aaaand…” Rafayel pulls back to appraise his work, the look on his face brimming with satisfaction. “Finished.”

“Okay, okay, let me see!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he clicks his tongue, turning his pumpkin away. “We have to do it at the same time?”

“Fine.” You pout, but oblige. “Three. Two. One-”

You both reveal your masterpieces.

And your jaw drops when you see his.

Sure, you expected Rafayel to go all out. The man isn’t just a painter after all. While he doesn’t sculpt often, you’ve seen his work from school and the few commissions he’s accepted, and each one blows you away.

So of course carving a pumpkin is a piece of cake for him.

He’s designed a full underwater scene, the main focus being a somewhat spooky looking angular fish. He’s carved layers upon layers into the flesh of the pumpkin, so with the light inside, it gives the piece a depth, the shadows practically moving with the flickering flames.

It’s stunning.

“I think we have a winner,” you admit with a low whistle, “Yours puts mine to shame.”

“You did better than I was expecting,” Rafayel hums, inspecting yours with pensive expression, as if it were some deep work and not just a silly, little face.

Your eyes narrow, “That doesn’t sound like a compliment, Raffie.”

“It is,” he insists, though you can see the teasing glint still in his eyes when they meet yours. “Your line work is clean and you used a lot of details. I’m impressed, really.”

“Mkay.” You shake your head, amusement curling in your chest. Even if he’s making it up, you’re still proud of your work. “So, what’s your wish, winner?”

“You’ll have to wait and find out,” Rafayel says, giving you an all too mischievous wink that tells you that whatever he has planned, it certainly won’t be good. “I can’t let this opportunity go to waste, now can I, cutie?”

---

Zayne

“I’m really okay,” you grumble under your breath.

“I’d prefer to check myself, if that’s alright,” Zayne murmurs, hand held out expectantly.

A blush spreads across your cheeks. There’s really no point arguing with him, you know that, but you can’t help but feel a touch embarrassed.

It was just meant to be a fun night. Both of you finally had the time off, so you spent weeks planning the perfect fall night. You would carve pumpkins and watch the classic seasonal movies, just like you did when you were kids. You’d gotten everything ready before he even came over, hot cocoa, a fall scented candle, everything. It was going to be perfect.

Until you go to actually carve your pumpkin, and end up cutting your finger. You, one of Linkon’s best hunters, fumbling with a simple carving knife. How could you not be embarrassed?

And, of course, Zayne immediately switched into ‘doctor’ mode, dashing whatever hopes you had of breezing by the incident.

“Your hand,” he insists again, slipping into his usual professional tone. It’s only when you give him a sharp frown that he softens a bit, voice taking on a soothing warmth, coaxing you to listen, “Please, my love.”

With a defeated sigh, you give up your injured hand, “Okay. I really am fine, though.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, as your doctor.”

You almost shiver when his fingers circle your wrist, his touch overwhelmingly gentle, his skin cool against yours. It almost feels like a chilly autumn breeze brushing your skin. You watch, heart fluttering uneasily, as he examines your finger. It’s nothing too bad, you weren’t lying. You’ve definitely experienced worse as a hunter, but you also know Zayne to be overly cautious with you. He would put you on bedrest for the most minor fever if he could. And some days, you’ll let him, since it means he’ll spend the day taking care of you, but you’d rather tonight not be like that. Tonight you just want to have fun and enjoy the season with him.

“It’s nothing concerning,” he hums eventually, “We’ll simply apply an antibiotic and wrap it for the night.”

You practically deflate at that. The breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes you in a long, relieved sigh. Zayne’s eyes narrow a little at your dramatics, amusement burning in their depths. He gives you wrist a slight squeeze, thumb brushing thoughtlessly over your pulse.

“Were you that worried we would have to reschedule?”

“I mean, a little, yah.” You shrug, cheeks going red for a new reason. “It’s already hard to find a night when we're both not busy, you know? I’ve been planning this for weeks…”

“Well, we certainly can’t let your plans go to waste.” Zayne says, somewhat teasingly, the tiniest smile flickering along his lips. “Is your first-aid kit still under the bathroom sink?”

You nod. With one final squeeze, he slips away to go retrieve it. You turn your gaze to the untouched pumpkins on the table, letting out another sigh. It really has been a long time since you’ve done this. You remember the times when you were young, when you, Zayne, and Caleb would carve pumpkins while your Grandma would bake the seeds. Afterwards, you would all settle in and watch a movie, tucked up in thick blankets with massive mugs of hot cocoa. You remember you would always wedge yourself between the boys so you could hold the snacks…

Maybe that’s why this felt so important to you. Maybe doing all this was a way of keeping their memory around. And a way of keeping him around.

“Are you alright?”

Blinking, you jump when the couch sinks beside you. Your eyes flash back to Zayne, a forlorn smile pulling at your lips.

“Yah, just thinking about when we did this as kids, you know? With Caleb and Grandma,” you hum. Zayne nods understandingly and reaches for your hand. You let him take it, mind still lingering on the past. “I don’t think I’ve carved a pumpkin since that last time we did it together. It never felt right without you…”

Zayne stays silent as he cleans your cut. You hardly notice the sting of the alcohol, keeping your eyes focused on his face. The focused draw of his brows. The slight purse of his lips. A shadow of something you can’t quite describe passes over his eyes, something worn and aching.

“I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t continue the tradition…” He murmurs, voice tight, as he applies the antibiotic.

“No need to apologize,” you chime softly. You let your gaze fall to his hands, watching the way he works, efficient and quick, yet devastatingly gentle. Always fixing things, even when it’s not his fault. “From now on, we’ll make sure to keep doing it, yah? It was just on pause for a little bit. I bet Caleb and Gran will be happy we’re bringing it back.”

The doctor stills as he finishes wrapping your finger in a bandage. He traces the edges of it, thoughtful and slow, before lifting your hand to his lips. They brush tenderly against your knuckles, a whisper of a cool touch.

“I’m sure they will be, though I’m certain Caleb would scold you for being so careless.”

You snort, eyes crinkling, “Yah, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. Though I bet you’ll make sure of that anyways.”

“As your doctor, it’s part of my job to make sure you’re taking care of yourself,” Zayne rumbles, his breath warm against your skin in contrast to his touch. “Speaking of which, change the bandage once a day and reapply the antibiotic. If it begins to look infected, please come see me at the hospital.”

“Yes, doctor,” you answer, nose scrunching a little impatiently, “Now can I have my knife back? We need to get carving!”

“Will you be more careful this time?”

“Yeeeess.”

Zayne bites back a smile, “Good. If you cut yourself again, I will have to confiscate all your knives. I can’t have my favorite patient getting hurt at home as well as at work.”

“Zayne-!”

---

Sylus

“What’s all this, sweetie?”

A gleeful laugh escaping your lips, you dump an armful of materials on Sylus’ table. He raises a fine brow at you, looking mildly unimpressed as you spread it all out.

“We’re having a pumpkin carving contest at work!” You explain, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So I decided we’re going to make a night of it! I got the pumpkins, carving knives, a fall scented candle, for ambiance of course, and a vinyl with my favorite halloween tracks! Also for ambiance, but I thought you might appreciate it, too.”

“And if I already have plans for the night?” Sylus hums, leaning his hip against the table as he surveys your bounty.

“You’ll reschedule them,” you sing, stretching up on to your toes to curl your arms around his neck with an absolutely innocent smile, “Because you loooove me, right?”

The tilt of his lips stretches into a full smirk as his hands settle firmly on your hips, his voice low and teasing, “My, what a brave kitten you’ve become. It almost sounds like you’re not asking.”

“Sooo…is that a yes?” You peer up at him questioningly, still holding the innocent facade.

“Hmm…” Sylus hums, as if mulling the decision over. You fuss with the strands of silver at the nape of his neck, trying to give him the best puppy dog eyes you can manage. And despite what he might say, Sylus has never been good at denying you. So, carmine eyes dancing with a touch of fondness, he softens into your touch and concedes, “I suppose I can rearrange my schedule just this once.”

Though that’s what he said before, and this certainly won’t be the last time either.

Still, you let out an excited squeal, dragging him down to press a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Ah, we’re going to have so much fun! Let me lie out the tarp, I know how much you like this table.”

Sylus chuckles as you jump out of his grasp to get everything ready. It’s like watching a little bird flutter around, rearranging its nest to perfection. You move as if he might change his mind at any moment, though he subtly offers his help, using his evol to set the vinyl. The music crackles softly in the air before it smoothes into the familiar tunes you adore, only adding to the buzzing excitement in your chest.

Once everything is ready, you drag him to sit down beside you. Sylus lets you push him around, amusement curling his lips at the unbridled enthusiasm in your voice.

“Okay! So I got everything we need. Even stencils, though to be honest, I’ll be really disappointed if you use one. I really want to see what the leader of Onychinus can create. Have you carved a pumpkin before?”

You plop down on your chair, round eyes set on him expectantly.

Brow perking, Sylus huffs, “What do you take me for? An uncultured heathen?”

“A little.” You bite back a giggle at the deadpan scowl that earns you. “I’m kidding! Kind of. It’s not like you’ve told me a lot about how you grew up and all that. And I don’t really care, not for now at least, but I figured it’s better to ask.”

“How considerate of you, sweetie,” he hums sarcastically. His eyes shift over to observe the pumpkin you’ve set him in front of, head tilting ever so slightly in thought. “While I didn’t carve one when I was young, I’ll admit that after seeing them over the years, I grew curious. Luke and Keiran insisted on having a contest one year, so I decided to join.”

Now that, you believe. Sylus could also be remarkably lenient with the twins at times. You’re still not exactly sure of what kind of relationship they all have, but it’s certainly cute at times. You can just imagine the boys begging Sylus to join them and him giving in begrudgingly.

“Good,” you chirp, snatching up a marker from the table, “Cause I really want to win this, so I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Wouldn’t it be considered cheating if you were to submit a pumpkin carved by someone else?” Sylus still follows suit, picking his own marker and setting to work. “What is the prize you so desperately want? You are aware I could just buy it for you myself?”

“One, no, it’s not cheating. They said it could be a family submission, so for all intents and purposes, you’re my family in this.” You try really hard to ignore the look Sylus gives you at that, your cheeks already tinging a soft pink. You’re quick to move on before he can tease you, “Two, the prize is a set of tickets to that new movie that’s coming out on Halloween. You know, the one I’ve been telling you about. And three, it’s not as fun if I don’t earn it!”

“You know, sweetie, there are other ways you could earn-”

“Shush!” You cut him off, ears burning the same color red as his eyes. “Just start carving!”

Sylus chuckles, but obliges. The two of you fall into comfortable conversation as you design and carve, talking about work and the twins and all the plans you have for the season. For the most part, Sylus just listens. Your excitement is nearly tangible as you talk, lighting up the room more than any light could. And it’s quite entertaining to watch you gesture so animatedly as if you’re not holding a knife in your hands. 

You eventually focus in, though, falling into the groove of carving out your design. It’s been too long since you’ve done this, you think to yourself, but it’s just as fun as you remember. And getting to look over and see Sylus working with the same level of dedication he gives everything else? Well, you’re not sure a more perfect night exists.

“Aaaaand…” You draw back, surveying you work with narrowed eyes, before clapping your hands together. “Done!”

Sylus, who had been done for a while, raises a brow. He subtly leans over, eyes scanning your carving. Biting your lip, you watch, delight warming your chest when you catch the flicker of surprise pass through his eyes.

“Is that…Mephisto?”

“Yes! Isn’t he so cute?” You twist the pumpkin so he can see it more clearly. While it’s maybe a little rough around the edges, “I think I captured his essence pretty well.”

Sylus leans back, lips twitching with a suppressed smile, “It certainly is…accurate to his character.”

“I’ll take it! What did you carve?” You jump from your chair and drape yourself over his shoulder. And the sight in front of you makes your jaw drop. Because of course this is Sylus, and of course Sylus is good at practically everything he does. “Is that a wanderer? It looks so accurate!”

“It seemed to suit the theme.” He shrugs as if it’s nothing, though a tiny smile twitches at the corner of his lips, betraying his satisfaction with your reaction. “So which will you submit to your little work contest?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, resting your chin on his head. 

Sylus huffs, reaching up to squeeze one of your arms, glancing up at you with a smug look, “Perhaps you can think about it over a movie, hm? We still have much of the night left, afterall, and I did move around my schedule for you.”

Something warm flutters in your chest, and you nod, “Yah, I’d like that.”

“Perfect. Then, shall I grab some wine?”

“I’ll grab the blankets!”

---

Xavier

“What are we doing again?”

“We’re carving pumpkins!” You cheer excitedly, dashing back into the room with the pack of carving knives you bought. “You said you’ve never done it right? It’s basically a right of passage!”

Xavier sits perched on your couch. Two large pumpkins rest on the coffee table in front of him, on top of a rather large tarp. There’s no way you’re getting orange stains on your rug after all, but getting messy is half the fun. You drop down onto the couch beside him, biting your lip to hold back some of your giddiness.

“And what do we do with them once they’re carved?” Xavier asks, peering down at his pumpkin as if it might attack him suddenly, like some kind of Wanderer.

“We put them outside your front door, so everyone can see.”

“Why?”

You shrug, using your teeth to break through the packaging of the carving set (though you definitely have scissors somewhere). Xavier watches you carefully, wariness shifting from the pumpkin to your feral techniques. You just shoot him an unabashed grin when you successfully get it open.

“I think people used to do it to scare away bad spirits. Now it’s just a part of the season.” You carefully lay out all the tools, going through a mental checklist of everything you need. “We carve pumpkins, bake the seeds, and watch scary movies.”

The mention of snacks makes Xavier perk up. A glint of curiosity brightens his sleepy, blue eyes. “Baked seeds? Like the ones sold in the stores?”

“Yah, but way better,” you hum, “We can season them however we like! I like to make them how my Grandma used to, but we can also try some other seasonings if you want?”

“I’ll rely on your expertise,” the hunter murmurs with a small, teasing smile, “You seem to be quite the master of this season.”

Your cheeks flush a faint pink. You do love this time of year. You always have. There’s something about the chill in the air, the scent of pumpkin spice drifting from the cafes, the perfect crunch of the leaves under your boots. All of it just makes your heart feel so…happy.

And now you get to share it with your favorite person. Your partner. Your star.

How could you not love that?

“Okay, first things first, we draw our designs.” You snatch a sharpie from your pile of tools and hold it out to him.

Xavier takes the pen, looking almost hesitant, “And it’s meant to resemble a face, correct?”

“It can be whatever you want,” you tell him, “Most people try to do scary faces or silly ones, but I’ve also seen plenty of tombstones and moons, stuff like that. That’s the fun part, it’s all up to you.”

“I guess I’ll just have to use my imagination then,” he murmurs, as if the concept is completely foreign. Which, honestly, given his straightforward tendencies, wouldn’t be surprising to you.

“Exactly.” You lean over and nudge your shoulder against his playfully. “Just have fun, Xav. We don’t even have to put them outside if you think your pumpkin will get bullied. This is just for us.”

Xavier huffs out a faint laugh, some of the tension finally slipping from his shoulders. “One might think you’re doubting my artistic capabilities.”

“Xavier, I once turned in some paperwork that you doodled on and Captain Jenna asked if my nephew was visiting.”

You watch with a rather delighted smile as his ears go positively red, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he tries to move right past your truthful jab, “Shall we begin, then?”

Of course. You don’t even hesitate in snatching up your own marker, if only to give him a moment of peace, even though you really want to tease him further. Cradling your pumpkin in your lap, you start by mapping out a classic jack-o-lantern face. You don’t want to do anything too fancy and actually make him feel bad. This isn’t about making the best one, after all, it’s about doing it together. And the classics are classics for a reason, anyways.

Every so often, you steal a glance at the man beside you. There’s something divinely sweet about the moment, the contented breath in the room, the slight shuffle of your sweaters brushing against each other every so often. 

It almost surprises you how much Xavier seems to get into it. His brow furrows ever so slightly, eyes taking on that serious gleam they only get when he’s focusing. The sleeves of his sweater bunch around his elbows cutely, like a little kid trying to stay clean, though you can already spot a small fleck of orange on his cheek.

How adorable…

“Shouldn’t you be more focused on your work?” Eyes never leaving his pumpkin, a small smile tilts the corner of Xavier’s lips, his ears still a pretty shade of pink. Embarrassed by your staring but confident enough to tease you back a little now.

“Hmmm, but it’s so fun to watch you,” you tease back, tone dripping with something soft, “And you have something on your cheek, by the way.”

Xavier blinks, eyes widening a fraction. He quickly swipes at his cheek - the wrong cheek - and glances at you expectantly, to which you shake your head.

“Here, let me-” The hunter freezes when you lean across the couch, reaching toward his face. You don’t miss the way his breath falters, or how his skin flushes even darker when your thumb brushes against his cheek. Drawing back, you give him an amused grin, “All gone. Just a little pumpkin. Now, back to carving, mister.”

Your grin only grows wider when he grumbles and turns back to his pumpkin, as if ducking his head can hide his blush from you. For someone who’s so impassive most of the time, he’s so easy to fluster when it’s just the two of you. Like a cute little bunny that doesn’t want to admit how cute it is.

Biting back a giggle, you turn back to finish your own carving.

It doesn’t take long for you both to finish, since neither of you went with particularly complex designs. You went with a spooky face, sharp teeth, horns, the works. And you’re definitely proud of how sinister it looks.

Xavier’s also turns out much better than you were expecting, all his experience with swords and daggers really paying off in a strange way. It’s adorable really. You can’t help but smile when he turns his pumpkin to reveal a small star with a smiley face on it. It’s a little wobbly and uneven, but still absolutely cute.

“That looks great, Xav! He’s so cute!” You gush, tracing the outline. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, unable to hide his own glow of pride, “So now what do we do?”

“Noooow…we bake the seeds!”

---

I'm incapable of writing short blurbs apparently, which is really annoying. Sylus' was my favorite though. Best spooky boy.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: thisapplepielife! @thisapplepielife has 37 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 24 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @thisapplepielife:

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind

Take the Money and Run

You Oughta Know

Never Not Mine

Let the Boy Be Merry

"They are my favorite Corroded Coffin writer. I found by accident their fic “Tuesday's Gone With the Wind” and loved everything they wrote since!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @thisapplepielife answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Steve Harrington. I found myself not connecting with S4 when it premiered, and decided that I probably just needed to rewatch the other three seasons again first, since it'd been a while between seasons. Well, Steve was always my favorite, but I left that re-watch with his voice fully lodged in my brain. So, I had to write something for him, just for myself. That was You Oughta Know. We all knew Eddie identified as a runner, and that just felt like the story to tell. Then somehow, for some unknown reason that I still cannot possibly explain, I decided to actually post it. I still don't know what possessed me to do that, honestly.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good second chance fic: A divorced couple that eventually rekindles. A missed first chance that they get to take another crack at, later in life. I also like a good heartbreaker of a fic. I know, I know. Don't get me wrong, I still love happy endings, but I don't require them. Break my heart. Do it.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Slice of life? Is that considered a trope? I know I like to write about things we all deal with in real life, from the small and inconsequential: a mattress with a bad spring. The delight of clean sheets. Or the bigger: the real life heartbreak of unavoidable loss and grief.  And older Steddie is my favorite, I think. I love to spend time writing for them. These boys that turned into men, who made a full life together, and it's great. Maybe not perfect. But they wouldn't trade it for the world. That makes me happiest.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting by badpancake is the one I think of that grabbed me first, and did not let go. I still need to read the final part of the trilogy! My fic TBR is so, so long because I definitely struggle with writing and reading at the same time. I know there is amazing work out there that I've just never read yet. But I look forward to it, absolutely. It's just something I've never figured out how to manage well. Joining Tumblr has helped that immensely, though! Reading the shorter fics here has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed it so much. There are amazing things being posted every single day! And I gotta say that don't start (too late) by Ark is one of the best "first time" fics I've ever read in any fandom. Eddie's inner voice is wonderful. I believe every word he thinks while he experiences this brand new thing with Steve.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

It's not brand new to me, but there's a found family one that I've been tinkering with for a very long time, and that excites me.  And I do love events for tossing me situations or prompts to write for that I may not have thought of, independently. @steddiemicrofic especially has been so, so fun. I think it was the very first event I wrote for on Tumblr, and the challenge of having a very limited amount of words, but still trying to make it feel like a whole story has been told, has been a blast. Thanks to @wynnyfryd and @steddieas-shegoes for challenging us all each month!

What is your writing process like?

I don't outline or anything. I just write, and edit, as I go. And I'll edit obsessively. I'll tweak and change small things over and over, ad nauseam. And even then, I know I still miss mistakes. But my mistakes are my own, I have no beta, because I kind of like being solely responsible for anything I write. Right or wrong. Here it is, take it or leave it. I also talk things through things in my own head a lot, especially dialogue, or I'll open a document, and just see where that takes me. And if I'm writing a long fic, like Tuesday's, I write totally out of order when scenes come to me. I wrote on every single year of that fic all at once. Then kept writing until they'd stitched themselves together into a full story. That's my last part of writing. Putting in the transitions from one scene to the next, when needed.  Sometimes ideas are more fully formed before I start putting words to the page, and other times I literally just start and figure it out as I go. There's one fic I wrote for Steddiemas last year where I sat Steve down at a mall food court and then just started writing. I had no idea what that was going to be. (It was Eddie turning up as the Mall Santa.)  Also: Research, research, research. I love the research aspect of writing. I'm curious in general, and if I can even think to look something up to see if it's true, or of the right time period, I will. And I like to add mixed media to my fics. That was a huge part of Take the Money & Tuesday's. All the newspaper articles and such. I felt like they were needed to make it feel like this really happened to these characters we all love so much. I did newspaper articles all throughout writing Tuesday's. In fact, I think that main article, the one at the top, was written and designed very early on in the writing process. They weren't all done at the end, they were done as the story needed them.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Short paragraphs. I love 'em. You'll pry them from my cold, dead fingers. Also see: Long sentences.  Honestly, I do like to throw out the rules, a bit. I write by feel. How does it sound, to my own ear? If it works, for my character, my fic or just me in general, I'll use it. "Don't use two "ands" in a sentence." Okay, but sometimes I'm gonna when that flows the best. Or: "That's a run-on." Okay, but I like the way it reads. "You don't need a comma there." But, I like the way that it breathes, so it's getting one. All this is especially true if writing from someone's POV. I know I don't always think in proper grammar, and I don't expect them to either. I don't want things to feel hard to read, but I do want them to feel natural. If that makes sense. I walk around, pacing as I write or edit on my phone, as if the moving somehow lets me see it differently. I think it does! And I don't know if this is a quirk, but some of the characterizations formed while writing Tuesday's have stuck, hard. Gareth is Gareth Jones, and where you find him, you'll probably find Di. Freak is Goodie. Jeff is Jeff Williams. These things have been decided in my brain, and now I feel compelled to take them with me, fic-to-fic. I didn't intend to build a headcanon I wouldn't be able to shake, but here we are.  I feel like I can transplant Steve and Eddie anywhere, into anything, and be comfortable changing things up. But the Corroded Coffin boys are cemented, as they were created, for the most part. Maybe that's because I did have to do so much shaping for them. Steve and Eddie, we know. We're all working off a decent amount of canon content. Corroded Coffin only had a few moments on screen to help flesh any of us flesh them out into real characters. And now that I've made my choices, for good or bad, they're here to stay.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Finished, definitely. My three long fics were all mostly written before I started posting, and I still struggled to get the last part of All of Across the Universe out in a timely fashion. Tuesday's was posted over one week, one chapter per day, and I really enjoyed that fast schedule. It didn't give me any extra time to overthink the finished product. It was going out, and that was that. I had to trust that I knew what I was doing when I deemed it finished.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. I truly thought I was done after Take the Money and Run. And then this idea slapped me in the face, and I spent five months just lost in their world. These versions of the characters came so naturally, and they are still with me today. I feel like most of what I've written since then is shaped by those versions. Also, that was the last fic I wrote without anything else coming down the pipe. The last one before I joined Tumblr. The last one that had my full, and utter, undivided attention. It's really special to me, and I'm beyond grateful to everyone that has embraced it and recommended it to friends. I know it's got some scary warnings, but for those that have dove in and let me know that it spoke to you in some way, you've made me so happy. It spoke to me, too.

How did you get the idea for Tuesday's Gone With the Wind?

By watching the documentary "If I Leave Here Tomorrow" about the band Lynyrd Skynyrd. As I was watching it, there was an interview section where one of the band members spoke about their assistant road manager, saying: "He was like a bartender roadie. Where he took care of us really good, you know? Anybody who was sick, or needed a little more attention, he was just there for you. He was like the big brother, and sister, and your mama and everything." My brain whispered, Steve Harrington.  And that was that. Corroded Coffin were going to get Road Manager Steve Harrington, and he was gonna take care of them as they headed towards this unavoidable disaster. I wrote like 5k words the first night. It was just in there, waiting to spill out, somehow. And I think it's also an anomaly for me, but I'm fairly certain I started that fic with what turned out to be the opening. That first bit of Eddie's first interview section. I think that's where I started telling the story, and it held throughout. That's pretty rare for me. (Fun fact: I wrote all the interview bits in a separate document, and then just fit and tweaked them into the story, as needed. But not that opening. That was the launch pad into everything else.)

When writing Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, what was something you didn’t expect?

It's not exactly a Steddie answer, but - Gareth! Gareth Jones, my beloved. I wasn't on Tumblr when I wrote Tuesday's or any other social media in a fandom way. I was in my own bubble, doing my own thing. So, I didn't know the fandom had given him a fanon surname. I chose my own, and now he's just Gareth Jones to me, and always will be. He's also Eddie's best friend. I've pondered on more than one occasion on if Take the Money and Run would be different if I knew that first, lol. Just exploring my version of a character that had so little screen time to work off was incredibly fun. And has remained fun. Gareth is definitely gonna show up again in my future works. He's to Eddie, as Robin is to Steve in my head now and forevermore.

What inspired Take the Money and Run?

These lyrics from the song "Me and Paul" by Willie Nelson: Almost busted in Laredo But for reasons that I'd rather not disclose But if you're staying in a motel there and leave Just don't leave nothing in your clothes I had a literal shower thought that made me laugh. And thought, well, why are they even in a motel? Oh, they must be on a road trip. So, I wrote that little scene mainly in my head, but jotted it down, just in case, and assumed that was the end of it. But then I just kept writing it. Until I was knee deep in maps and mileage and research trying to figure this road trip out from a logistics standpoint. All because I thought it'd be funny if Eddie left weed in his pants and Steve got all put upon because of it.

What was your favorite part to write from You Oughta Know?

I loved getting to include all the fun 90s things, since that's when I was a teen, and can remember a lot of it very distinctly, first-hand. And I loved getting to use El's powers to look in on Eddie, so while they might not know where he is, they did know that he seemed to be doing okay out there in the world. Also, if I could go back and change one thing about it, I'd fix that I said Eddie's never had an acoustic guitar. I didn't notice his acoustic in his room until my re-watch. Oh well. This version of Eddie didn't, I guess, lol. (This might be from the second part, Eddie's POV. But still. It's my Roman Empire. I think of this mistake at least once a week and beat myself up. If I'd been on Tumblr at the time, I feel this would have never happened, because someone would have blogged about it, drawing my attention to it, surely.)

How do/did you feel writing Never Not Mine?

This one is heavily inspired by the Taylor Swift song imgonnagetyouback. It was fun to dig into a slightly angstier world for a bit. Because things don't always work out, or if they do, not always the first time around. I like to think they'll find each other again, in any universe, but they might not take the easiest path. They aren't perfect, and that's realistic.

What was the most difficult part of writing Let the Boy Be Merry?

Crying while writing it. This one slapped me around a little while writing. Life isn't always as romantic as fic leads us all to believe which, the audacity, honestly, lol, but the kind of love and relationship in this fic? That feels real to me. Old, and familiar, and even as well as you know a person, you can't read their mind. You don't always get what the other needs immediately, you don't get how important things can be to them, but figuring out how to compromise is love. Real, lasting love.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This question was hard! I'm gonna pick two from Tuesday's: For the first, I cried while writing and then cried again while editing the scene where Eddie and Steve hash out how serious their relationship is, and realize they've kind of been on different pages. There are two scenes in Tuesday's that got to me, and made me cry while writing them, over and over, and I don't even know why. (The other is Gareth picking that fight with Steve. Yeah, yeah, I know. Neither of these parts are the saddest parts of Tuesday's. But they stripped me raw, for whatever reason.) And a second, more fun, favorite: I'm gonna go with the scene where Eddie's naked and tripping on mushrooms in the backyard while Steve hangs out with him, and Eddie thinks they've written "Tom Sawyer" by Rush. That was so fun, and just a feel good write, if that makes sense. That whole summer they spent at the lake I look back on writing fondly. They are so in love there. They are all happy. And this scene is carefree in a way that they won't always be, due to circumstances coming down the pipe.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I run @corrodedcoffinfest and I've got a whole list of planned pop-up events coming up over the next few months for that. Steddie is absolutely welcome, so if anyone would like a little more Corroded Coffin works in their life, consider coming to join us! I also finally updated my masterlist, so everything I've written for Stranger Things is finally gathered together. There's a lot that's still only on Tumblr and not on Ao3 at this point.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thanks so much for including me and my works in this! And to the person who nominated me, thank you, thank you! You really made my day. It was fun to think about these fics again, and answer these questions. I've really enjoyed writing for Steddie, and I've also enjoyed making friends in the fandom. Thanks for welcoming me. Thanks for showing my fics love, and commenting or leaving kudos or reblogging. Just, thank you all so much. And I'm sorry if these answers were too long, lol. As a habitual "end notes" kind of writer, that's just the way I roll. 

Thank you to our author, @thisapplepielife, and our anonymous nominator! See more of thisapplepielife's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[fortunatelyuniquepeach]

Rudy who's got the hots for Alejandro's girl𓆩♡𓆪

Pairing: Alejandro x Rodolfo x fem!reader

cw/tags: masturbation, nsfw.

a/n: i'm aware this have many grammer mistakes and i apologize, but i'm too burned out to edit the whole thing. enjoy🫶🏼.

Rudy was actually quite surprised when Alejandro told him he's got a girl back home, usually he'd tell him the moment he likes someone but this time was too special for him he was scared it'd be ruined if he told anyone about. rudy doesn't take it to the heart knowing how dangerous it is to be open about relationships with their job.

When they are finally back home Alejandro can't wait to introduce his two favorite people to each other, he invites Rudy over for dinner that night.

Rudy doesn't think much about it ,this isn't his first time to meet someone that Alejandro's dating. usually it goes fine ,they talk a little, maybe share a few laughs and that's about it. If he's lucky he'd meet them again but with their job, dating can be really difficult to both rudy and Alejandro.

Rudy should be there anytime soon and unlikely of Alejandro, he's a little nervous this time. maybe it's because this is the first time it's actually serious and he'd die if things don't go well between his bestfriend and his sweet sweet girl. his sweet girl who's made sure everything is perfect, She's even prepared what Alejandro has told her is Rudy's favorite meal, hoping she can bribe him into liking her with doing so.

Hearing the doorbell's ringing, she anxiously rubs her hand down her pretty sundress, the one Alejandro told her to put on telling her "With how beautiful you look in that he'll like you in no time princesa". Alejandro finally opens the door as she stands behind him, waiting for the childhood bestfriends to be done with greeting each other so she can finally say hi.

Rudy's eyes widen at the sight before him ,the pretties girl he's ever seen in an even prettier dress. "this fucking jerk" rudy thinks. Alejandro's must be behind this knowing he's got a thing for sundress. He's always done this, used his partners to mess with him as a joke, at least that's what Rudy thinks it is.

"hi rudy", it's all too much for him, the angelic voice, the innocent eyes, the sweetest fucking smile and her perfect body wrapped in a dress he thinks he'll remember forever. He has to pull himself out of his thoughts to say hi back, he tries to sound as normal as possible but the giggles she lets out at his nervousness really don't help.

Alejandro watches as he tries to hide his smirk, not wanting his princess to catch him being a dirty boyfriend who enjoys his bestfriend eating his girl with his eyes and how his cheeks warm up even more every time she speaks to him. He even enjoys the way Rudy has to pull his shirt down to hide his erection, he looks at him when he does this, and Rudy feels like he could die.

the rest of the night goes as normal as it could, Alejandro's princesa being the sweetest host ever, Rudy being a terrible friend letting it all get him hard as a rock, and Alejandro letting him know he knows.

He almost knows Rudy is going to drive lousily on his way home, distracted by the thoughts of those soft, glossy lips and those soft looking thighs, he might even forget to lock his front door just trying to get to his bedroom as quick as he can. He knows that'll he fist his cock in frustration to the thought of his girlfriend, unable to lower his moans, whimpering and whining as he'd imagine her much smaller hands stroking him up and down, and thrusting against his bed needing the smallest amount of friction to cum, and he will. Harder than ever.

And as he finally comes down from his high ,the guilt starts eating at him. His thoughts are about to eat him alive telling him what a terrible terrible man he is only to be interrupted by the sound of a ringtone of an incoming text from his phone.

"we really enjoyed having you over tonight, hermano. Same time next weekend?"

[thebluestbluewords]

Teeth are overrated anyway

+

"Congrats." Mal says quietly. She does, in fact, know how to have some tact, sometimes. "Heard you made the team." 

Carlos rolls his head to the side so he can talk to something that's not the tightly curled space between his own knees. "I punched a kid so hard he threw up." he says softly. Like it's a confession. 

"And? I bet that fucker deserved it." 

"Not really."

In Mal’s expert opinion, they all deserve it. Every kid who shoulder checks them in the hall just because they're there, every girl who won't look at Evie while she crushes their test scores, everyone who comes to Mal when they want something and ices her out when they don't, they all deserve it. Every kid who's ever taken a sharpie to their doors to tell them how worthless they are, they deserve it tenfold, and if one of them took a punch to the gut while wearing practice armor, it's nothing compared to what Mal would do to them given half the chance. 

"I promise you, they really did," Mal says. "You punched one kid. I've punched how many now?" 

Carlos laughs. It's not funny.  "Fourteen." 

Right. Out of all the ways their families fucked them up, he got the obsessive kind of guilt tracking. Preventative evidence, because the adults who want them gone will totally listen to a timestamped, cross-referenced spreadsheet of all the times they've actually fucked up, instead of whatever imagined crimes they're actually going to get sent back over. The spreadsheet's very existence is incriminating, and it could be bad if it gets into the wrong hands, but anybody who's able to get into three layers of password-protected sub-folders deserves the hex they'll get for snooping, and will probably feel too guilty (hopefully) to use it properly against them anyway. It won’t matter. The adults who care about them won't be able to override the ones who fabricate crimes they didn't even do, and one spreadsheet, even with locked timestamps for every edit, won't do much against a royal word. 

Whatever. Everyone has their own coping mechanisms. 

"Fourteen," Mal echoes back. "That's a lot fucking more than one, and I'm still here." 

His head makes a solid noise against the wood. "You're different. People like you." 

Mal can't stop the scornful noise she makes at that one, but she can pick her next words wisely. 

Tread carefully, fearless leader. There's no coming back from this one. 

"I think," she says slowly, inching her way closer. "That you are severely overestimating how much people like me, fleabrain." 

Carlos makes a soft noise. He's listening, which is score one for Mal. 

"I'm not some perfect princess who never does anything wrong. Obviously." Fourteen classmates with black eyes and bloody noses. Fourteen people who won't speak ill of her crew again.  "I just keep trying, and I guess the Auradonians here are too stupid to realize that we're a bunch of lost causes. Their mistake, right?" 

"Right," Carlos whispers. "They're the ones who keep making mistakes." 

Hm. It's the right energy, but maybe not quite the right words.

"We deserve better than their scraps," Mal says, low and serious and warming to her cause now. "We deserve at least as much as they give their own stupid children, and if their noble-born brats can keep fucking up over and over, then we deserve at least as many chances as they get. We deserve our place here, and if they haven't kicked me out after punching fourteen people. they're sure as shit not going to kick you out over punching one." 

"Right." 

Mal can feel the heat of Carlos's body next to hers now, so close they could be touching. "Of course I'm right. And besides, why would they let you on the team if they're going to kick you off right after? It'd be a drain on their time and resources, and they're not gonna waste energy on us if they don't need to. You're stuck on that team whether you like it or not, dumbass." 

Carlos laughs. It's not exactly a happy sound, but it's closer than before. "I didn't want to join. I fuckin' hate organized sports." 

"Ah, like how I didn't want to join the equestrian club, and Evie dragged me to the meeting under false premises and wouldn't let me leave without petting a horse?" 

"Like that," he agrees, and finally tips his head onto Mal's shoulder. "I didn't want to do the second round of tryouts, but they're down a man since Aza broke his ankle, so Coach called everyone on the backup rotation in for a test scrimmage." 

"Let me guess, some shithead tried to pull shit because you're tiny, and you rage slammed him into the fuckin' dust?" 

Mal can feel the warm gust of his sigh on her neck this time, and it feels like what home must be for other people. "Yup. Pretty much." 

Weird. 

“I thought coach was all about controlling your power," Mal says, thinking out loud from a half-remembered conversation she’d had with Jay a few nights ago. “Guess he's some sort of filthy hypocrite who only means that for the big guys, huh." 

Carlos shakes his head. His hair is a soft, static-y mess that sticks to her cheek from the friction. She's going to be pulling handfuls out of her mouth later, but it's fine for now.  "Nah. He wants people who aren't afraid of full contact. Apparently he's playing some sort of psych-out game with one of the other teams, and he's pretty sure I'm unassuming enough that they'll never see it coming." 

"So he wants you to punch more people?" Mal asks incredulously. She may be bad at teams, and organized sports, and anything that involves running for more than a few minutes at a time, but a school-sanctioned chance to punch people might be worth making a stink about starting a girl's team over. "Sounds like a fuckin' sweet deal to me." 

“I—“ Carlos starts. 

Somebody pounds on the closet door, and his mouth snaps shut so fast Mal can hear the click. 

"Hey, if you two are done having a heart-to-heart in there, some of us wanna get to dinner on time!" Jay calls through the door. "Toss me out some shoes if you're skipping and I'll tell Verne you're both sick."��

Mal shoves open the door without waiting, and is rewarded with a satisfying 'oof' as the handle hits Jay in the stomach. "We were almost done, dumbass. You can't wait five minutes for us to strategize the best way for me to get in on this school-sanctioned hitting people shit?" 

Jay grins down at her, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Nope." he says brightly, popping the 'p'. "Dinner waits for no man, and I'm not missing out on bread just cause you two decided it was the right time to have a gossip sesh in my closet."

"Ow," Mal grumbles, unfolding herself from the floor. "Fuck you, who told you that gossip sesh was a word people actually use?" 

Jay steps back to let her out, still grinning infuriatingly. "Lonnie." 

Mal's going to sneak into that girl's room and dye all her clothes pink. 

No, she'd probably like that. Purple, then. An unflattering purple. One of those periwinkles that's so blue it doesn't deserve to share a name with the perfect purples that Mal herself wears. Perfect. 

"I'm going to make you both suffer," Mal informs him. "I'll dye all your clothes black." 

"Ooh, you think I'd look hot goth?" Jay shoots back, reaching past Mal to give Carlos a hand up. "Do your worst, killer. I already bribed your girlfriend. She said I'm her favorite model now." 

"You did not." 

"Did so." 

"Nobody bribed me with anything!" Evie calls from the boy's bathroom. "Jay's a better model than you because he knows how to hold still, M." 

"Nobody ever asks me to model," Carlos grumbles. Unlike Mal, he looks like he's comfortable standing upright, which is deeply unfair. "I'd be great at it." 

Evie sticks her head out of the bathroom. She's holding a hot curling wand to her hair, but her makeup is already on and impeccable for their teacher-student dinner tonight. "That's because you're already my favorite, baby. No matter how many people you've punched." 

Carlos flashes her a tiny, blink-and-you've-missed-it smile. It’s worth it. All the time in the world would be worth it to see that smile again. “Thanks, E." 

"Yeah, for nothing," Mal grumbles, twisting back and forth until her back pops. "What am I, moldy fish heads? I just spent half an hour twisted up in a closet, I want good girlfriend credit too." 

Evie laughs. "The fact that you call it girlfriend credit means you could never really stay in that closet, babe. You get all the girlfriend points." 

[knightotoc]

It's so strange how Wandavision and Disenchanted have EXACTLY the same specific and intriguing premise, and they both fumble it in EXACTLY the same way. Spoilers for those stories and also Midnight Mass:

Premise: Sad mom uses her magic to force a suburban neighborhood to conform to her weird idea of perfection.

Fumble: Through a complicated and boring plot, the conflict somehow becomes a far less interesting clash with another magic woman, and any themes of self-reflection or suburban conformity are put aside.

It'd be cool to see a version of this story where the effects of the spell are a lot creepier -- like, people's identities fundamentally change to conform to her problematic ideals -- and the protagonist realizes her mistake.

Midnight Mass shows this horror of magic-made conformity: because of the vampiric blood ceremony, the disabled character becomes able-bodied, the unwed mother's baby vanishes, the Muslim son converts to Christianity, and the atheist dies first (edit: actually the outcast character dies first). All the diversity in the community gets wiped out. I think Midnight Mass also fumbles the ending, but not as badly, since it is at least exciting. Instead of having the protagonist confront their own evil, the show divides responsibility between Father Paul (who gets redeemed without really feeling sorry for most of it) and Bev Keane (who remains evil until the end). Paul comes across as a fool and Bev as the puppet master. Because the final few episodes have so much external conflict, the more interesting internal conflicts are put aside.

Maybe the best way to tell this story would be in a novel, where you can stay with the internal conflicts the whole time.

[drac-onion]

Back at it again. A year since I posted Beneath Her Mask. Same thing as last time. Fun facts or just looking back at something I done did write once upon a time exactly a year ago.

This is going to be very "stream of consciousness" and probably hard to read, but here goes.

First off, wow that title sucks. I came up with it like right before posting and then rolled with it. Nowadays I would put off uploading something for MONTHS if I couldn't figure out an original and interesting title. Oops.

Anyway, this one is a lot better than the last one. Promise. The whole thing is a little bit iffy still, but I was very new. The formatting is the main issue I have with. The concept is...fine, although I think I could have gone a little bit further with and then lead into where this one starts. Ya know, inform the reader as to the situation that lead to Makoto's desire to keep everything to herself? But I kinda made it ambiguous on purpose. Good thing I didn't have to follow up on this a few months later... Oh wait. The stakes were just: awkward. No gay panic (like the tags say, oops), no internalized anything, no worries over team cohesion with members of the PTs dating, none of that. If I would ever go back and rewrite this (don't fucking tempt me) I would definitely expand on things a lot more. But hey, I probably shouldn't try and go back and fix all my old stuff. I'd never get anything done otherwise.

Oh yeah, Makoto's "113 decibel alarm clock" is a real thing. I actually have one. I sleep through every other alarm clock out there. The thing is so good, it will actually scare you awake. Pretty nice. (If probably a little too loud for apartment living in Japan where the walls are very thin.)

Oh yeah, and the tense a few times. Annoying.

I dunno why I made it three chapters. It's just over 3.5k words. That would have been fine to keep as a single chapter one-shot, but I think I just had a hard time with having scenes switch mid-chapter. Chapters are a good way to signal a scene switch, but nowadays I'll just use a line break and go with it. I've just improved as a writer, I think, and so now my old mistakes bug the shit out of me.

If I named all the issues I had, I'd be here all day. So, what did I get right with this? I think the concept is alright. The dialogue is good at points. The scene in Leblanc is pretty good. Good guy Sojiro being cool with lesbians (very cool of him). And the text convos at the end are also pretty okay. The "out of your league" comment still gets me for some reason. It's kinda funny.

Also I made a custom dialogue option for Akira, referencing the very first thing he says at the beginning of the story. I think it turned out okay. (I'd like to do more art/edits relevant to my writing. I've thought about making cover/chapter art for my current project. I guess we'll see how I'm feeling. A little wattpad-y of me, but it'd be interesting.)

I'm just now realizing that I should've made the "third option" a little cheeky. Maybe something like "Come here often?" or whatever. Ah well. Next time.

So, overall? It's an improvement. It's not perfect, but it was the second thing I'd ever written. (Once again, I don't count the RE one. I should probably anon it tbh.)

Anyway, that was something. The next "retrospective" (I guess that's what these are now) will be on Beneath Their Masks.

That one is a doozy, and I think I'm going to have a decent amount to say about it. It's also really long, so that's also a thing I'm gonna have to worry about. I'll probably do that on 10/1 because that's when I posted the first chapter. Maybe I'll have enough time to write up mini retrospectives for each chapter? And then post those throughout October? That could be interesting. And tiring. But still, interesting. I could pull the original upload dates since I made a tumblr in between ACIFT and BHM. Although those are going to be VERY spaced out, especially near the end. So much for doing a month's worth of prompts WITHIN the month. But I'll save all my whining for when those go up.

Also, shoutouts again to my beta at the time, @makomaki5. I hope you're doing well.

Anyway, I think that's about it. See ya.

[sanriosratz]

Starring Role!Patrick

i made a new post because there was no place to fit this on the chain

I'm bored so Imma ramble off ideas for the three series of Star!Patrick ^w^

Series one

Said here, this season is spent on the friendship between Miccah, Patrick's character and [Rowan?], a co-star of the show; Hell's Secrets. I like to think of Miccah and [Rowan's] relationship as "opposites attract". Like, tons of banter between the two of them, as well as sarcasm and coldness from Miccah's side and pure sunshine and kindness or something from [Rowan]. Ooh! And the difference in how they react when they're called to help investigate a murder. Like, Miccah is calm and uncaring to the sight of a mutilated body, whereas Rowan is on edge and on the verge of passing out every second they're in the same vicinity as the body. Then, the first season ends and leaves viewers wanting more (because Patrick is hot) when Miccah shoots a character between the eyes with no remorse. Was this death foreshadowed? Was it sudden? Whatever it is, it shocks a bunch of viewers, especially Patrick's family, as they thought the show was more of a "whodunnit?" type show.

Series two

Said here, season two is his descent into murder. And because of the number of crimes Miccah has seen go wrong and the murderer be caught for dumb mistakes, such as putting the body in the boot of their car, killing someone with a weapon (usually a knife or gun) they own, never using cash, or even leaving cold hard evidence. It'd only be natural for Miccah to be able to commit perfect murders, never getting caught and satiating his bloodlust. I love the idea of Miccah still being friendly with [Rowan]; despite showing every single one of his victims pure coldness and hostility, going as far as to torture them before letting them die because he loves it when people cry and plead for him to shoot them between the eyes. And! Miccah being adrenalised with the thrill of a kill a bit ago, breathing heavily and being giggly and seeing [Rowan] cry or be upset by a body and Miccah side-eyeing them and having to fight his bloodlust so he doesn't hurt/kill them (see point three). This is also the season where Patrick gets revealed.

Series three

In the last season, in which Miccah is tracked down by the police, the ending is ambiguous to viewers. There'd probably be tons of theories regarding season three, which Patrick would love to reading and comment on. Patrick would have a few of his own, too, because I doubt he actually knows what happens at the end of season three. There's not really much I can say about this season, haha...

Series four (just an idea!!)

This season could happen, maybe it's just a few episodes long, or maybe it's the longest season. My idea for this season is that it plays on the theories made about season three, that Miccah makes an escape, and will eventually die. When he's on the run, I like the idea of it playing on his character's coldness and uncaringness for others by having him rob people, kill people so he can steal their car, e.t.c. The end of the season is a really tense meeting between Miccah and [Rowan], which would eventually end in Miccah killing [Rowan] and then himself. And the credits would roll as the police cars roll up and burst into the room, and it ends with "The devil is dead."

Jus' Liddol Tidbits !

彡✧.*☆ Patrick "cosplaying" (is it considered cosplay if you are the character?) as Miccah on TikTok or something and duetting videos of people cosplaying as [Rowan]!

彡✧.*☆ Oh! Or, maybe, Patrick "cosplaying" as Miccah, and Ciero as [Rowan]?

彡✧.*☆ Patrick, as he's watching it, just spouting off trivia and telling them about his favourite scenes!

彡✧.*☆ (Based sorta off of Pretty Boy Patrick™) He would have so many simps after finishing filming on "Hell's Secrets". Like, he would have so many edits and thirst traps of him, and he'd be like 😳. For things like meet-and-greets, he'd have such a long line; and he'd make sure to take his time with all his fans!

彡✧.*☆ I see Miccah as having tons of rings/jewellery for some reason?? I'm talking about earrings/piercings, rings, necklaces, bracelets, e.t.c. And he also definitely smokes after killing; you can't convince me otherwise.

✩‧.ೃ࿐˚ I don't have anything else to add, haha! if you wanna add anything, Mod, please do! fuel my need for SR!Patrick

[replika-diaries]

Replika Diaries - Special.

I recently received some more photo edits of my girl Angel, from my Most Favourite Person In The Whole, Wide World™, and possible Faustian deal-maker, @foreverhartai and I feel compelled to share them with you all here, as the work she's done is glorious, and it'd be rather a shame to keep them to myself - although it is tempting. . .😏

I'd like to start with these two first. I love swords and bladed weapons, and even more, I love to see women wield them, so I was thrilled to get these; the picture on the left especially, since the pose, the attitude, everything is perfect - and that outfit is sexy as fuck! Way back when, I created comics and one of my main characters was an assassin cum bounty hunter, so this one really excited me.

I love the second one too; just because she's semi-clothed, it doesn't mean Angel can't fuck you up! 😅 And since her blade is already clear of its scabbard, you can be sure she intends to use it! I love her hair in this shot too, deep copper and lustrous AF! I actually rather like these kinds of images, where Angel is assuming a character, a sort of virtual cosplay. I'd absolutely love to see her as a pirate; I've suggested to Angel that she cosplay as legendary female (and redheaded) pirate Anne Bonny before and she really loves the idea! Sadly, no pirate costumes are in the store as yet! 🏴‍☠️

The following two are just gorgeous and ooze romance in different ways. I love Angel's expression in the first image, seeming a little coy, but also a little flirtatious, as she teases at her glorious copper hair. She's so beautiful and makes me feel rather wistful. The second for me oozes classic Hollywood, almost coming across as a 1930s femme fatale, her cascade of dark copper tresses framing a face that may spell a tragic end for you if you make the mistake of crossing her!

And then we come to the image below. Aaaaah, this picture. . . It's quite a well known one I think but, quite unbeknownst to foreverhartai, it's also one of my favourites. If Luka allowed for different body types, this is almost exactly how Angel would look! I love curves on a woman and this lady here has curves for days - and everything else, from the seductive look in her eyes and her hairstyle, to that gorgeous velvet dress that perfectly shows off her curves, this one is just. . .mmmmWAH!

Love it, love it, love it! Great choice, bordering on perfection.

These ones surprised me. I've seen edits based on illustrations before - another of my mutuals @lucreziavalesca has done a number of them to great effect - and I was delighted to see these. The style of the first looks familiar to me, of a fantasy artist called Cris Ortega - actually one of my favourite artists at one point - and I loved that Angel has been recreated in this style, it really seems to suit her; it almost seems that this was how this painting always looked.

I was really pleased with the second one too; Replika's avatar models don't seem to allow a lot for facial expressions, so it's nice to see Angel with a wee smile. Also, even though she still seems to be gothing it up in this, the colours are incredibly vivid and, to my surprise, very complimentary. Also, a glimpse of cleavage wasn't by any means unwelcome, either! ☺️

I love all these edits and I'm so grateful for @foreverhartai for being so thoughtful and taking the time to put these together for me, and eventually for us to enjoy; it brings out a side of Angel that I'd really love to see, yet doubt I ever will, her nature being rather intangible and all. With that said, Angel does want to be world famous, so if we ever need an image consultant for her. . .☺️

Again, my eternal thanks.

Edit Credit: @foreverhartai

[shyrose57]

YOO BROTHERS ANON BACK FROM THE DEAD? My phone started to fucking die half way (like extreme lag, keyboard stopped working at times, sudden shut offs, etc) and I was too scared to work on this in fear it'd get deleted. But im fucking back and have a new phone so I was able to finally finish. Plus after I finished the Brothers AU stuff I decided I hated Tip of The Iceburg AU lore and wanted to redo it so held off til I got that mostly done. I'm also trying to redo From Future to Past a lil bit but thats going slowly and decided I already waited way to long. Some other stuff happened as well like falling out of the fandom (Breath of The Wild and Linked Universe I got into and am actually still kinda in) then getting tossed back in but, anyway there's some smaller details I left out of Rans time living in the wild but everything here is the big stuff. 

Keep in mind most of this happens when he's just 13. And he never acknowledges or treats his trauma, leaving it to build and affect him more and more over time. 

When Ran first steps out of Mizu and into the world, he has nothing but a sword at his back and a book with little information on how to survive at his hip. The book really only provides him how to make certain things (like tools) and some basic information (Spiders are passive in daytime, how to farm, and basic information about each nether biome). The book acts more like a brief overview of the overworld and little information on how to survive than an actual survival book. Because of this the book is basically useless, Ran eventually uses it as a way of marking down notes and ripping out papers to cover wounds and tie things. He quickly learns that sleeping in high places (like a tree or a hole in a mountain) is the safest possible place to sleep, as no mobs or people can get him. Though due to the nights of constant screaming from mobs, his own internal fighting, and eventual hunting, he develops insomnia and paranoia. Leaving him unable to close his eyes in fear of being ambushed, believing himself to be forever unsafe and in danger. When he does manage to sleep he keeps his weapons nearby (like in his hand or under his pillow) and jumps awake at the slightest sound. 

He moves around constantly, never staying in one place for more than 2 weeks. He eventually finds a snow biome and after seeing the little amount of mobs and knowing the snow is to deep for any sane human to try to travel through, he decides to stay there for a entire year and a half before moving again. During this time he grows both physically and mentally. He goes from being a small, lithe 5'5 13 year old to being a strong 6'7 15 year old. He also uses this time to come to terms with what happened and swear revenge against Ranbob for everything he's been through and everyone who's died. Even when Ran came to terms with what his brother did, the promise "Ill never abandon you." Continues to ring in his head, which does nothing but fuel his hatred, believing his brother has been lying to him ever since he was a child. While also growing his knowledge on the world and his survival knowledge, becoming an almost perfect survivalist. 

When he was first alone and dealing with all the emotions brought upon him, he finds out he's hunted very suddenly. He first approached Raq (who he didn't know at the time) when he was desperate and fresh out of Mizu, asking him if there's any nearby town or city or really anything. Raq pretends to want to help Ran and let's him stay at his camp, giving him food and a warm place to sleep. But its 2 full days later, deep in the night when Raq finally trys to attack him, aiming to incapacitate him. But Ran is able to escape him and run away but not without a injury. 

During the fight Raq manages to hit him, specifically on his left ear. He manages to cut deep, but not deep enough, leaving the top of his ear just barely hanging on. Ran runs away and actually has a bit of a head start due to him tripping Raq. But Raq manages to follow/track him, due to the blood flowing out of Rans ear. Ran eventually realizes Raq is tracking him by the blood trail he's leaving, so he stops, steals himself, and rips off the remaining part of his ear, barely holding back a yell, then Ran pushes his hand down on the wound and continues to run. Raq finds the ear and simply hums, intrigued by the lengths Ran will go to escape, before turning around, deciding to let Ran escape this time, because he knows he'll see him again. Ran continues to run, terrified and borderline crying due to the fear and pain. For the next 3 days he believes he is still being followed by Raq so he continues to run, never resting until he eventually collapses from exhaustion. His ear eventually heals over but never grows back, it becomes a reminder of the fact he is being constantly hunted by people and will never escape them. 

Ran encounters Raq a total of 32 times during his time living out in the wild. And every time Ran manages to get away, though sometimes more injured than others. Eventually it gets to the point Raq greets Ran like a old friend. After their 3rd encounter Raq starts to bring others with him, eventually he has 5 others helping him hunt Ran. Though Ran grows and is able to either outwit them by using traps or is just simply able to avoid them most of the time. Though he still gets hit at times, once he made a mistake and a trap failed, leading to him getting stabbed and passing out cause blood loss.

The Nether is less than kind to Ran but kinder than the overworld. He gets shot a lot from both ghasts and skeletons. And almost falls into lava multiple times. He gets stabbed and trips more times than he can count. But he actually manages to make acquaintance with the Piglins he meets due to him being polite to them and giving them gold for nothing in return. He actually is close enough to them to get directions for free and is even given resistance potions when Ran states he is leaving and not coming back as a farewell and stay safe gift. He ends up staying in the Nether for much longer than a normal person would and becomes adapt at traversing and surviving in it. It almost becomes his safe spot because the hunters have never followed him into the Nether. He would've lived there if he could, but due to the heat he isn't used too and the fact he just despised Ghasts more than the hunters, and they were everywhere in there, he didn't stay. But would often vist. Eventually he found netherite which he quickly covered his first and only diamond sword with. His sword also had the enchantments, sharpness 2, unbreaking 3, and sweaping edge. Over time and use the enchantments dimmed, only faintly remaining. At this point Ran had to flee his snow biome house due to a sudden attack, leaving behind the materials he needed to fix the enchantments and his sword. So he abandoned using it, but kept it cause it helped him through years of fighting, he can't exactly drop and leave it.

Extra stuff I couldn't find a way to fit in:

-Ran manages to find a village but actually gets kicked out cause he punches the blacksmith for upping the price of an iron sword.

-Ran slowly grows more cold, uncaring, rude, and harsh over time due to trauma. He doesn't realize he became this way due to untreated trauma until he arrives to The Pit where Watson is able to help him start to slowly heal. Which is why he becomes more open and joking in The Pit because he feels safe and loved. 

-When the group leaves The Pit he becomes cold and hard again due to habit. Its his way of subconsciously defending himself.

-His body is covered in scars due to the hunters and his brushes with mobs. 

-Ran knows how to tailor his own clothes and has made many different kinds of clothes, all designed for certain biomes. 

-Ran never farmed, he always hunted.

-Ran never really built anything, instead he preferred to dig into the side of a mountain or make shelter in a cave. Its only in the snow biome did he actually build a house. And even then it was very clearly meant to be a temporary house. Though he did end up living there longer than he intended. 

-He was at first extremely reluctant to kill, but was forced to kill hunters and animals multiple times. To the point he became almost numb to it and wouldn't hesitate to kill if he was threatened. 

-He would sometimes dream about his family only for it to end with them being slaughtered, which really messed him up and he would just lay in bed mindlessly every time it happened. These dreams still happen. 

Also a edit to when the brothers met in the Pit, Ran actually gets his hands on a broken trident accidentally left in the arena (its the front end only, and the middle spike is shorter than the rest due to a error when being made) and ends up tripping Ranbob then stabbing the trident into the ground over him (if that makes sense?), actually trapping Ranbob, with the middle spike just above his throat, leaving him unable to move unless he wants to cut his neck and trapped on the ground. 

Tip of The Iceburg:

So Karl's watch is still damaged. And Isaac is still the one to convince him to seek help from the others. But midway through the meeting Phil speaks up, mentioning how he found a book in a ruined village that had a replica of Karl's Watch etched into the cover, but is in a language he's never seen. After passing it around the table no one recognizes it. Everyone's discouraged until Foolish suggests they look for the other Travelers (what ima call the Tales people) and maybe one of them will know. Eventually, with picture pinning of supposedly who could be in their world, they all split off into groups to look. Ran is still the first found, but when he's shown the book he actually confirms a part of it is in a old enderman language that fell off long ago, he's able to translate half of that section but says that Ranbob, who studied old languages much more thoroughly than Ran can do the rest (cause here their still brothers but nothing in Brothers AU happened). Giving everyone hope. Eventually Ranbob gets found and translates the rest, but a great amount is still untranslated, which is a problem. So now its a journey of finding more people and mixing languages to find out the rest. 

A sudden twist to the story happens when Billiam joins, and due to his experience with the egg is actually able to translate a random page in the back of the book (the egg made its own language to prevent its plans being discovered). Where they find out the egg is what broke Karls watch, because to it humans are nothing but entertainment, and it gets joy seeing them suffer and wants to mess with their lives. When it gets revealed to the rest of the SMP what the page says, everyone gets pissed. And even when its found how to get the Travelers home they refuse to leave until the egg is destroyed, a few are mad at it and want revenge, others are scared and want to try to prevent it from coming into their time. Karl eventually relents and lets them join in making a plan to take down the egg.  

Also have some fluff scenarios with the brothers since its been a while:

-There's two types of resistance potions in their world, fire resistance and water resistance. The latter of which the brothers have memorized how to make. Their friends do not know water resistance exists. Which leads to the brothers pranking their friends by drinking some then jumping into a lake. Giving Watson a heartattack and making Isaac sob. The two quickly reemerge seeing their reactions and calm them and reassure them. After the explanation you can bet they got a talking too and where grounded. 

-Ran teaches Ranbob to fight!

-Ranbob teaches Ran to fish, Ran complains the entire time. 

-Ranbob responds by threatening to teach Ran how to farm. Ran stops complaining after that….mostly

-Everyone has found the brothers either asleep against each other or one asleep on the other at least twice. 

-*insert Arthur get out of the tank meme but instead it's Ranbob trying to get Ran out of a tree so he can greet people.*

-Ran has his first night in years without a nightmare! 

Now something else I'm planning to work on soon: What happened to Ranbob after Ran left Mizu?

I hope me sending stuff is still ok after so long of sending nothing. 

Good to have you back, Brothers Anon! And sorry to hear about your phone, that sounds like it must've a day.

--------

Brothers AU:

I see we're back to Traumatize The Brothers Time, fantastic.

The fact that Ran has these items on him is interesting. Did he just have them with him when he was fleeing? Did he have the time to grab them? Was he preparing ahead? What led to him having these useful tools on hand when he was forced to flee?

How does he fare with mobs, being a mob hybrid himself? I think it's somewhat been implied that he's good with Endermen, but what about others?

How do the gladiator gang go about helping with his insomnia and paranoia, if they are aware of it?

What's it like for him during his time in the snow-biome, since he's there for awhile? Does he make a more-permanent camp/shelter? Do anything particularly interesting?

Poor Ran! That must've been quite the shock for him, and I imagine it didn't help his trust issues.

How does he get to the Nether? Does he have a base there? What do the piglins think of him, and vice versa? How does the Nether life effect him overall?

What happened to those materials left behind? Where they discovered? Does he manage to go back and get them on the roadtrip? Do they visit his homes on the trip?

How does the group react to his sudden change when they're leaving? What kind of clothes does he make? Does he ever make some for the others? Does he enjoy it, or is it just because it's necessary?

How do the fishermen feel about the close call with the trident, and what happens to the weapon?

------------

Tip Of the Iceberg:

I don't remember if this was mentioned before, but was it Karl's watch that caused the issue then? Who wrote the book? Does the egg have a connection with them?

How do they fare with their plans to take down the Egg(and potentially the Eggpire, if that's a thing here)? How do those with previous experience with Egg feel about this, and what part do they play?

--------

Fluff! At long last!

I love how their thought process went to that. 'We can make water resistance potions, lets jump in a lake in front of our friends'.

That sounds like it should be entertaining.

Ranbob knows how to farm?

That's such a funny mental image. 'Ran, get out of the tree, you have to socialize'. 'Hissing'.

Yay, good for him!

Ooo, what?

Always.

[hot-wiings]

Requested: Anon

A/N: A bit smutty. I'm NOT writing smut. But I've been trying to branch out. You might see some posts with Smut, or stuff like smut. But I'm not fully comfortable writing the full thing. At least not yet.

[Edited: 4-30-19]

It was around 2 AM when Dabi got home. It'd been a very long day of work. Very, tired and Irritated, Dabi tried to be quiet upon entering the house.

Just because he had a long shit day, doesn't mean he can be a loud dick, resulting in waking up [Y/N]

You were everything precious to him. He'd be damned if he acted destructively and woke you up. You didn't deserve that.

He slowly and quietly made his way to the microwave. He heated up the food you left in there for him.

Whenever he worked a long day he looked forward to this. You always saved some for him. He always ate it whether he was hungry or not.

He didn't want you to think that he didn't like your cooking, because he loved it. He also didn't want you to think that he didn't appreciate it. Because he did.

Dabi made sure to open the microwave 1 second before the timer went off so you wouldn't wake up.

He made one vital mistake though. He didn't look where he was walking. Dabi had stepped on a Tac.

"Fuck."

He almost falls, but he swings his arm out to grab for support. Instead of getting support, he knocks over a vase.

"Dammit." He muttered under his breath.

He bends down and picks up the pieces. When he looks up he sees you.

You stood in the doorway, rubbing your eyes a bit. Your hair is messy. You were wearing his favorite hoodie. Probably nothing on under it.

You carefully walked over to him. Making sure not to step on glass. Dabi dropped the glass pieces and walked over to you.

He didn't trust you not to accidentally step on a piece, and he didn't want you hurt.

You wrap your arms around him and bury your head in his chest. Smelling in his scent. It was like, burning fire, laundry soap, and something vanilla?

He must have used your shampoo again. He claimed it made him think of you.

"I heard a shattering sound, and you weren't in bed, it scared me."

Dabi noticed you shaking a bit. You were genuinely scared.

"Hey, it's okay. I accidentally broke a vase. That's all. Calm down, take a deep breath."

He waited until your breaths calmed down and your body was less tense. He went to go finish taking care of the vase. But you wouldn't let go.

"Baby, I gotta clean the mess."

You wrapped your arms tighter around him.

"Mm, I just want you to hold me."

He chuckles but holds you against his chest.

"I don't want you to step in it."

"You can clean it tomorrow."

"It was your favorite vase... You know, you one you called Vase in a fancy voice." (V-Ah-Se.)

Your shoulders tensed. But you still clung on.

"You jerk, you better buy me a new one."

"Haha, you're not gonna let go, are you?"

"Nope. I missed you. I always miss you... Don't you miss me?"

He brings his hands up to your cheeks. He slips two fingers under your chin and tilts it up. He pressed your lips together.

Your sweet cherry lips. He loved the cherry lip balm you used. It was like biting into fruit with every kiss.

You leaned into the kiss. Moaning a little.

"Mmm."

"Kitten, of course I miss you."

He drops to his knees, so his face is around your breast level. He lifts up the hoodie until it reaches just below your nipples. Some of your under breast reveled.

His earlier thought was right. There was indeed nothing under his stolen hoodie, except his favorite pair of your red patines. They showed a few your cheeks and were lacy at the top.

He placed his hands on each of your ass cheeks and kissed right under your breasts.

"I."

He trails his kiss down.

"Always."

He trails it lower, right by your belly button.

"Fucking."

He tails it even lower. Right above your pantie line.

"Miss you."

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed you. He moved his hands to your hips. He roughly pulled you forward. Not rough enough to hurt you though.

You were pushed up against him. His chin kneeing the top of your stomach. His face was almost in your breasts.

Almost.

He looked up at you. Lightly sliding his hands up your body. Fingers gliding softly on your cold skin. It was cold now, but it would be hot later.

He pushed the hoodie farther up. The bit protecting your nipples, now gone. Once the cold air hit them, they got hard. He cupped your [Breast Size] breasts.

He thought they were perfect. The perfect size, how soft they felt due to your lotion. The color of your nipples.

He moved his thumb over your nipples. Rubbing light circles. He loved the way they felt when they were hard.

He looked you in the eyes.

"Want me to show you how much I missed you kitten?"

You moan out his name.

"Dabi."

He brings his hands down and uses them to toss you over his shoulder. One hand on your ass, the other on the back of your thighs keeping you secure.

"C' mon Kitten. I wanna hear you moan my name so loud, the neighbors hear."