#That is literally the fic I am re-working now

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Today in "so Mads was actually a fucking idiot the entire time and nobody warned her about it," I have come to realize that unlike what I thought was the case, if you anonymize a work, it doesn't show that fandom in your list of works. Which is why I chose to orphan my works instead of anonymize them since I was under the impression from what I read that your fandoms would still show up in the list.

So I could've just anonymized them instead of orphaning them.

Great.

I'm going to go walk into the ocean does anyone need anything?

[kavehater]

She’s a great alhaitham fic writer what can I say sighhhh

[angelshadowsinger]

oh my fucking god your work is incredible! holy literal shit balls i have never felt that entranced by a fanfiction until reading yours. thank u thank u thank u your azriel is PERFECT.

also i’m totally gonna need your thoughts on azriel sharing with his shadows 👀

re: ummmmmmm call me parmesan bc u got me CHEESIN!?!?!! that is literally sO sweet of you to say, i am touched 🥺 as a fic author you always worry if you’re making the character OOC and, it just makes me so happy to hear your praise!! thank you so much anon~ ♥︎ This HC is a bit more than what you’ve asked for, but it does includes it, so pls enjoy!

Azriel’s Shadows Around his Mate Headcanons

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

In my eyes, Azriel’s shadows are a part of him. There hasn’t been much insight that Maas has given us with shadowsingers and their capabilities in general, but this is what I choose to believe~

Since Azriel’s shadows were perhaps the first of his powers, and the first entity to treat him with some kindness/obedience, I think he would be very in tune with them and he himself would consider them a part of him. He has had over 500 years to develop his relationship with them and therefore, I believe once he found his mate, his shadows would be just as captivated with her as he himself.

Obviously, Azriel is a total simp for his girl (but that’s another hc in its own), so that means his shadows are too. Honestly, it could be viewed as annoying how often at least a few of his shadows are constantly at your side. He’s used to having them totally loyal to him, so now that he has to share them with you… well, it’s not really actually that cumbersome, because he knows that even when you two are apart, he’ll be sure to know if you need him/his help. Though he has a couple less to send out on his spymaster business, technically, the ones with you are acting as his spies anyway. Just, with a far more interesting and important subject.

His shadows do a variety of things for you, making your everyday life easier and more pleasant. Just as their master, the shadows like to give you princess treatment.

For example, they go out of their way to help you with mundane things. If you’re making dinner and a tomato rolls off the cutting board, they’re pushing it back to you. When you’re putting on a dress, they’re helping you with the zip and clasp. If you’re writing something and your pen runs out of ink, somehow they’ve procured a new one that matches your exact preferences.

Both Az and his shadows notice the small things. They take notes of your likes and dislikes, what makes you giggle, cry, or provides you comfort.

At times when he’s away for a long while, and you’re missing him, they will deliver small gifts to you. A couple flowers tied with twine, native to the strange lands he’s currently working in. A special spice he knows you love to use in the foods you share with him. An especially-delicious pastry made with your favorite fruit/flavor. Though the shadows themselves do not find you gifts, they are happy to deliver whatever Az requests they send.

They also will take anything you wish to send him. Whether he’s in another country, or simply training at the House of Wind with his brothers, his shadows will deliver your every gift. Most of the time it’s little sweets or a lunch you’ve packed. Sometimes when you’re feeling cheekier, a receipt from the lingerie store informing him of your latest purchase. If you’re really feeling brazen, sometimes the panties themselves. His shadows are perhaps happiest to carry those items, either to get into contact with them or to see their master’s red cheeks as he shoves them out of his brothers’ view.

His shadows are your caretaker when he is not with you. When you’ve fallen asleep staying up for your mate’s return from yet another mission, his shadows will tuck you under your favorite blanket, taking off your reading glasses and ensuring your spot in the open book on your lap is not lost. Az nearly melts when he comes back to the sight, you dead asleep on the couch in front of the blazing hearth, his shadows perched dutifully there, guarding you.

However, they grow attached to you and even when he is with you, they will not leave you alone unless he commands them.

Azriel likes to take full advantage of his time alone with you. There is nothing he finds more comfort and pleasure in than being in your embrace. Sometimes that’s hard to do, though, when his shadows steal away your attention, or beat him to helping you with the zip of your dress.

It’s a very endearing sight to see him get jealous of his own shadows. He’d have a scowl on his face as he glared at them, silently ordering them to leave your side so he could have you all to himself. The shadows would melt onto the floor, gloomy in a way, whisper once more around your ankle before they go off to fulfill their master’s instruction.

Most of the time, you manage to guilt your mate into letting a few of them come back. And as soon as he calls them, they appear and shoot right for you. Az rolls his eyes but of course he understands. How could they not fall in love with you?

Azriel is actually very good with sharing. This usually applies to you when his shadows are involved, though sometimes he just needs to be alone with you. Whether it’s to have his way with you or just to snuggle up and bask in his mate’s presence. When he needs time like that, he will have his shadows guard your quarters and they will do so without question— fiercely protecting the only two beings they care for.

~spicy hc’s begin ;)~

Most of the time, Azriel will take the lead in pleasuring you— as he should, as your mate— but he’s likely to let his shadows watch or join his efforts if they play a supporting role.

For example, his favorite thing is to be between your legs, feasting on your sweet cunt and making sure you know you are his, while his shadows hold you down so you can’t move an inch. This way, you have to take the pleasure in the exact way he desires, unable to greedily chase your high or buck your hips or push him away.

Usually he plays with you for a while like this, teasing you and edging you a handful of times before he’s ruthless, unstopping even after you’ve come. He does cease his ravishing after you’ve come again, only to ensure he doesn’t overstimulate you before he’s had a chance to fuck you like you both want.

His shadows are happy to shackle you and render you helpless to his onslaught of pleasure; they love hearing your wanton cries and will dry away any tears of pleasure that escape with a cool, ghostly caress.

Speaking of their caress, one of his favorite uses for them is to soothe your skin when he’s done marking it up. Meaning, after every spank or particularly hard bite, the shadows will rove over the irritated flesh, kissing you with their cooling tendrils.

Since the shadows are slightly cold, sending them to curl around your nipples while he fucks you from behind is also another favorite. The temperature-play heightens everything— especially when they move down your curves to tease at your clit or your ass, depending on your preference…

Sometimes he lets them fuck you as part of your foreplay— usually while you’re sucking his cock. He just loves the surprise that flickers in your eyes when you’re choking on the length of him deep in your throat, how your lashes flutter when that familiar cool touch tickles your inner thighs and pushes your wet panties aside, how your moan feels vibrating around him when they thrust inside of you. He savors how your rhythm gets thrown, how you struggle to continue when his shadows are running over every sensitive crevice of your most intimate parts.

On rarer occasions, Azriel will let the shadows have their way with you. He’d sit back in a comfortable, wing-friendly armchair, darkened hazel eyes drinking in every movement before him— you with your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, the darkness holding your legs spread and fondling every inch of you— cupping your tender breasts, tweaking those pert, hard nipples… stroking your face, your hair, your hips and thighs… flowing over your puffy clit, slipping between your dripping folds and even wandering inside of you, perhaps just as deep as Azriel’s cock could reach. He would jerk his leaking shaft at the sight before him, lip held prisoner in his feral snarl. He wouldn’t be able to last very long, the sight before him too much for him to keep his composure.

When you’re both spent and panting for breath, the shadows will run up and down your moistened back, taking away the heat that lingers there and helping to lull you to sleep.

Only when you’re unconscious do they return to Azriel, curling around his shoulders in thanks. They know they are lucky to be the sole creature/presence with which he shares his mate, and any time spent with you is valued payment for the many services they provide their master with.

[offside-the-lines]

MattDrai Fic Recs

So @irrelevanttous and @puckthisshift sent me the ask meme prompt for "what my favorite Mattdrai fic is" and I went on a JOURNEY lemme tell ya. I ended up figuring out how to download my AO3 history (in which I discovered that in the last year, I've read like literally 50% of all the MattDrai fics ever written) to help me figure out what my faves were. So here are some (most? I hope?), split into categories.

General Faves:

head above water by yourblues (@msmargaretmurry) 🔒 (E, 91.1k) This might be one of the best pieces of RPF ever written; it's a classic. I have visited this fic literally 21 times. It has everything: stupidity, pining, incredible sex, falling for each other, also more stupidity. Chapter 6 literally rips my entire soul out every time. I think this fic permanently altered my brain chemistry. It's a perennial re-read.

only fools rush in by @bropunzeling 🔒 (E, 94.9k) This is another fic that is a Must Read for HRPF as a whole. The entire time, I just want to reach through the screen and wring both of their necks for being so incredibly dense. And I love everything about this, especially just the way it's written is so incredible.

Growing Into Someone by @blaahaj 🔒 (E, 46.5k) God, I love this fic so much, I come back to it all the time. I think this must've been one of the first Mattdrai works I read. But I just love how natural the initial tension is, and how inevitable their falling in love is, and how the climax happens and resolves is just so incredible.

Undo Falling for You by crookedsilence (@csblogs) 🔒 (T, 16.1k) This is an AU I guess? I put it in this section because it's Hanahaki, so like only kinda AU. Either way, I am obsessed with this! It is just emotionally perfect. Highly recommend.

rough dream? by reticent 🔒 (M, 7.2k) So, this fic is probably the most "out there" suggestion because of the warning (I'll get to that part) but this fic is literally the most perfect microcosm of what Mattdrai fics tend to have: pining, lack of communication, falling in love while being terrified of falling in love, etc. This is a time loop fic where Matthew is stuck in the time loop but it's told from the perspective of Leon. It is absolutely incredible. I think about this fic ALL THE TIME. The warning is for a suicide, but no "actual" character death because the time loop resets.

i'll tell you when to stop by dogjuice 🔒 (E, 39.6k) (McMattDrai) This is the real answer to 'what fic do you send people if they want to get into MattDrai'. I have sent this to so many people because it is perfect. Everything about this is perfect. Matthew's internal dialogue and his anxiety, and his perception of what's happening. The second half of the fic is so well-written and suspenseful. Something I feel it will give me a heart attack even though I've read it like 10 times.

Future Fics

Saving the Best for Last by @puckingtrash 🔒 (E, 100.1k) This is the fic that made me obsessed with Future Fics of current rivals. There's just a level of camaraderie and understanding that happens after that many years in the same league; it doesn't matter how much beef you had. And this fic is just so incredible. I love thinking about what these guys do after retirement. A must read IMO.

home by now by daisysusan (@hopetorun) 🔒 (E, 102.3k) Probably one of the best fics. I love the way this builds up and keeps you on edge. It really mirrors how Matty feels, just this general unease of knowing something is wrong but not knowing what. The laying of the pining with the hurt and confusion is just so well done.

back to where we lasted by @ohtemporas 🔒 (E, 34.4k) Trade fics are always so interesting with these two. Especially in the situation where they are exes. And one of them (Leon in this case) has fucked up greatly, and they need to figure out how to get past it because neither of them are over it. Or in this case, figure out how to do it again, but properly.

Old Flames Burn Brighter by @cisumox (E, 25k) I love this fic so much because of the way they are both clearly affected by what happened and how much they still want to love each other. I think about this one al the time. Warning: this does involve a career ending injury.

settle down in the Sunshine State by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 14.7k) This has my fave Mattdrai trope where one of them is a fucking idiot, and is so in their head about it. And they have absolutely no idea what literally every single other person knows. In this case, it's Matthew. I absolutely love this fic. I read it all the time.

gather your broken lessons and move by rumandwhine 🔒 (E, 30.5k) This one is super interesting because it doesn't involve a trade, or them in the same place. It is the same as it was before, but different. How are they doing to figure out what went wrong and how are they going to make sure they don't make the same mistakes? They are older now, but are they any less stupid. Keep reading to find out. (Also featuring an absolutely hilarious situation with Drai and his rookie).

AUs

linger by @bropunzeling 🔒 (E, 65.5k) (Omegaverse) This is another all timer. It is so incredible: the way they are just so inexplicably drawn to each other, and obsessed but so worried about their obsession. And the way Leon treats Matthew as something really special from the beginning (and how Matthew just doesn't seem to pick up on that). The way that things build towards the climax, with the ASG 2023 moment (which makes me want to rip my eyeballs out every time; it HURTS). It has all the best parts of omegaverse and explores their relationships with their dynamics so thoughtfully.

whatever promises I made by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 360k) (Omegaverse) Yet another all timer for the genre as a whole. The way that omegaverse is explored here is so interesting. It was the fic that really got me on board with the AU. It is so core to the way the characters interact with each other and the world, and the inherent traumas it brings really parallels some of the experiences of populations in the real world (e.g. women).

so is the longing by dogjuice 🔒 (E, 44.7k) (Omegaverse) When I tell you I have read this fic sooooo many times. It is so so good (and so hot). Matthew is so incredibly oblivious and Leon is pining so hard and down soooooo bad. I think Leon's love for Matthew can be seen from like Alpha centauri and yet Matthew totally misses it (among other things). This is SO good.

Egos and Eligibility by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 91.1k) (Regency & Omegaverse) I will continue to suck up to my good friend Iris LOL. But seriously, I read this before I even knew it was her and I love it so much. I adore Regency Matthew and the way Leon is literally ever MMC from the era (Mr Darcy) is so funny to me (why so pissy Leon). Regency is such a perfect setting for the Omegaverse tropes of courting and, also again, exploring the societal impact of having these dynamics in play. I think the part where Matthew goes into heat is SO funny and well written. Bridgerton wishes.

Royal Pain by lavender_hazyy 🔒 (E, 48.9k) + Sequel Rules of Engagement (E, 37.8k) (Medieval/Royalty/Bridgerton/Robin Hood) That sounds like the most bonkers combination of things, but it's truly so so so good. I recommend this one SO much. It's so much fun to read, and their interactions are so funny. Poor Connor is always experiencing the Horrors in the background. Everything about this is perfection. THE FUCKING LOVE LETTERS OMG.

bittersweet and strange by @puckthisshift 🔒 (E, 53.4k) (Fairytale Curses) Will I ever stop thinking about this? Probably not. :) I think so much of this is a metaphor for the "beast" that Matthew portrays himself to be (maybe believes himself to be) irl. Also, I will never get enough of Taryn as a character; she is just incredible. I will literally never forget the reveal at the end (and ever villain I ever write will be henceforth inspired by you). (Also, curly haired tiger Matthew, you will always be real to me. Leon + me *handshake emoji* wanting to tough Matthew's fur).

I honestly don't even think this is ALL of the Mattdrai fics I think about regularly/reread regularly. But these are at least a lot of them. There are also so many good recommendation lists on this website when you search for "mattdrai fic recs" that will include even more fics than the ones I've selected.

Legitimately, thank you to all Mattdrai writers out there for being the fucking GOATs. I don't know what I would be reading if not this.

[xanwyn]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[eddiexmunsonlover-archive]

One Step Away From You (Chapter 4)

ExBestFriend!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

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Chapter Summary: Your off-handed comment to Jason catches up to you. Before things get out of hand, someone swoops in to your defense. A heart-to-heart ensues. WC: 6.4k Warnings: MDNI. Explicit language. Fatphobia/bullying from Jason. Jason almost hits you. Brief references to toxic family relationships and abuse.

Saturday, September 21st, 1985

The ever so alluring smell of bacon and pancakes invades your senses, stirring you from your slumber. You rub your eyes as you look at the clock on the bedside table. 10:35 am. You slept in, though you can’t say you’re surprised. After the day you had, you must’ve really needed it. You roll out of Steve’s spare bed, making sure to re-make it before you venture down the stairs. 

The smell intensifies with each step down the stairs and into the kitchen, spotting the stack of pancakes and bacon waiting to be picked. Steve is pouring a cup of coffee, eyeing you as you grab a plate and start loading it up.

“Morning, sleepy head”

“Morning, haircut” you respond, taking a quick bite of bacon. Groaning softly in pleasure, “You know, Steve. If you don’t figure out what you wanna do for a career, I think you’d make a great little housewife.” You smirk to yourself as you pour syrup onto your plate. Steve scoffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Know any takers?” You laugh with him before you catch a glimpse of Robin sitting on the couch, eating her own plate. 

“Oh, hell yes.” you say excitedly when you see and hear Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? playing on the TV. You quickly scurry over to join Robin on the couch with your own plate. Steve joins soon after, all leisurely eating your brunch and watching Saturday morning cartoons. After you’ve all finished your plates and are relaxing before eventually having to get ready for your work shifts, Steve speaks up.

“So, we gonna talk about what happened yesterday?”

You look between him and Robin, confused. You quirk an eyebrow up at him.

“Uh, what happened yesterday? What do you mean?”

“I mean, something happened yesterday, didn’t it? You seemed a bit…off.”

Goddamnit. If Dustin hadn't learned it from you, you're now sure he learned his ability to read people so well from Mr. Steven Harrington too.

“Did you talk to Eddie?” Robin asks softly.

You sigh, crossing your arms over your stomach.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell us anything. But if you want to, you know we’re here. I’m also just really nosey.” Steve adds, causing a smirk to tug at your lips before you take a deep breath.

“Yeah. I talked to him. Ran into him after lunch, literally. And uh, let’s just say it did not go well. He kinda flipped out on me. But, I kinda deserved it. Aaand, I kinda slapped him. But, he kinda deserved it.” You let yourself laugh a little, taking in their surprised faces.

“So yeah, based on that I don’t think we’ll be friends again anytime soon. At least I can say I tried.” You finish with a shrug.

Robin reaches out and rubs your arm soothingly as Steve looks at you with sympathy and in thought. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N” he sighs, “Maybe just give things some time to cool down, I’m sure he’ll come back around.” He gives you a soft, crooked smile.

“Yeah, maybe. And if not, I’m sure I’ll be okay.” you say, more to yourself than to them.

You pull into your driveway an hour later. You sit there, finishing your cigarette as your eyes linger on the now familiar van across the street through your rear-view mirror. You look longer than you’d like, finally tearing your eyes away to throw out your cig. Cutting off the sounds of Black Sabbath as you turn off the ignition. 

You slowly shuffle your way to the mailbox at the end of your driveway. Flipping through the spam and advertisements when you hear a familiar sound, a skateboard. Your eyes follow the sound, a figure shaded by the sun. You know who it is. If it wasn’t for the skateboard, it’s the flaming aura around her head under the sunlight. A big smile stretches across your face, leaning against your mailbox as she rides closer into view. When she’s close enough to see your face, her eyes widen and she nearly stumbles off her skateboard, eliciting a giggle from you. She stares at you for a second as she comes to a stop, sliding her headphones down to her neck.

“Hey, you.” you say cheerfully.

In a second, she’s running to you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. You feel the shakiness as she inhales a deep breath.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, the ever elusive Red.” You smile as you return the hug, briefly rubbing her back before she pulls back to look at you.

“W-How?” She looks toward your trailer, “You moved back?!”

“Yep, just this past week. I tried keeping an eye out for you at school, then Dustin told me you moved here. Knew I’d catch you eventually.”

Her smile falters ever so slightly at the mention of Dustin.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s a piece of shit but it’s a roof over our heads I guess.” You nod in agreement, pondering how to approach her. If she’s been avoiding the party, you worry one wrong move will send her running away from you too. You decide to go the easy route, knowing you might not get a truthful answer right away.

“You and mom doing okay?” 

“Yeah. She’s either working or drinking most of the time, so” she shrugs nonchalantly, a move you see right through. “But I can take care of myself just fine anyway”.

“Well, if you ever get bored entertaining yourself, just come and give a knock, okay? I gotta get going for work here soon, but maybe we can go out to the drive-in or something soon?”

A small smile tugs at her lips as she nods lightly.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Oh, and you know. If you ever need a ride, I’m already giving the knuckleheads rides home after school and since we’re neighbors, I can just stick them all in the bed and give you passenger seat privileges.” You ramble before noticing the way she begins to awkwardly sway at the suggestion. “Or ya know, I can just kick them to the curb and save myself some gas with just you.” You quickly offer. She forces a small laugh before shaking her head.

“No, that’s okay. It gives me more time to skate anyway.” 

Great, I’ve already messed this up. Just add it to the list…

“Alright, well the offer’s on the table anytime. For anything.” You insist, giving her an out to the conversation as you begin to move back toward your driveway. She only nods in response, before putting her skateboard in place to ride again.

“See you later, Red.” You wave before heading into your trailer to get ready for work.

During the slower phases of the work day, your mind drifts to worries of Max. How she’s really doing, how you should approach her, how to get her to open up to you. It’s a welcomed distraction considering the other places, or people, your mind would be wandering to otherwise. You and Max had gotten fairly close over the summer, you gave her opportunities with and outside of the party to get away from home, from her asshole step-brother. Being the only other girl and older, she often confided in you. Whether it was about her brother, her relationship with Lucas, or the struggles of girlhood, you were there for her. 

Since Billy’s sacrifice to save her from the mall fire and his resulting death, she’s closed off. Isolating from everyone close to her. That happened to be something you’re familiar with. Something that helps you to understand her, something you can use. You know you need to take it slow though. Based on her initial reaction to seeing you, you know she's missed you, and know that connection is still there. There’s just some walls you need to chisel down first.

Take it slow.

That connection is still there.

Just some walls you need to chisel down first…

Those dark curls… chocolate button eyes… cutest fucking dimples you’ve ever seen in your life.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, frustrated with your brain and your heart. Both deeply longing for him… before the shock of pain with the memory of his words hits you.

Just let it go. Move on. He’s not your Eddie anymore.

~

It was bothering Eddie more than he’d ever admit, even to himself. You. Thoughts of you swimming around his head with every emotion he could think of, was bothering him.

After your argument, he felt a bit of relief. To finally say the words he’d been carrying with him these last few years to you. To finally release the anger and pain out onto you. It felt like a weight off his shoulders in the moment. What he hadn’t been expecting was for you to match it, taking the pain and anger you felt in response, right back out and onto him. 

This whole past week you’ve been back has thrown him off. More distracted than usual. More reactive. More irritable. The other boys in Hellfire noticed, taking extra effort to not poke the bull. 

Your argument and slap left him even more distracted and off-balance. You’d thrown him off his game for Hellfire for christ’s sake. Forgetting details for the campaign that he’d otherwise would’ve had memorized, left him referencing his notes. He didn’t exude his usual dungeon master playfulness, animated voice and facial expressions coming out muted. Everyone noticed. Eddie’s own off-balanced performance reflected in his players. Nothing had ever distracted him so much to the point of interfering with Hellfire campaigns. The way Henderson eyed him suspiciously throughout the night almost set him off completely, again. He’d ended the campaign a little early, offering a brief apology and a quick lie to write off his abnormal performance on. He’d spent the rest of the night getting as drunk and high as he could in his bedroom until he passed out. 

Saturday isn’t going much differently for him. Sitting in his bed with a joint in his mouth as his fingers mindlessly strum his guitar, thinking of you. The anger he felt yesterday is now replaced with guilt. A guilt that sits and churns in his stomach, teetering on the edge of nausea. Maybe that was just the hangover, or maybe it’s from the way he can’t get the image of your tear-streaked face out of his head. Tears caused by him.

You deserved to hear how much you hurt him. Be faced with the consequences of your actions. You deserved that. But as he remembers the look in your eyes yesterday, the way you flinched, the way he caused a side of you you rarely show to come out… he knows you didn’t deserve that. He scolds himself for letting his emotions get the best of him, letting them get out of his control. You hurt him, that didn’t make it right for him to hurt you back. It didn’t even make him feel good. Maybe very briefly in the moment, just to release what he’d been holding in for so long, but it left as quickly as it came. 

He sighs as he moves the guitar off his lap, putting out his joint in the ashtray before rubbing his hands over his face, staring up at the ceiling.

He can’t hold on to this anger anymore, he knows it’s not healthy and is only hurting him more. But he can’t blame himself too much for wanting to, it’s one of the ways he’s protected himself in the past. Protected him from getting hurt. You knew that about him. The way he held onto anger at his dad, people in Hawkins, not wanting to waver and give either the chance to hurt him more. You knew almost everything about him, more about him than he’d ever willingly shared with anyone. That’s why what you did hurt him so deeply, and why he wanted to hurt you just as much. And feels like utter shit for it. 

Hey, you!

His eyes dart to his window as his brain immediately recognizes your voice. He peeks out to see you interacting with a younger girl he’d seen skateboarding around in the neighborhood and at school. His heart begins to ache watching you, watching you embrace the girl, watching the way you smile at her and ramble.

God, does he miss it. Misses the way you’d ramble and rant about something you’re passionate about, the way you’d cackle and smile when he’d do the stupidest thing he could think of just so he could see it. Misses the way your warm, plump body feels against him when you’d hug or lean your head on his shoulder. 

He sighs watching you wave goodbye to the girl and walk inside your trailer. 

Maybe he could give you another chance. Now that he’s not so overcome with anger, maybe he’d be able to hear you out. Not overpower you so much with his anger that you can actually have a real chance to explain yourself. 

Maybe.

Tuesday, September 24th, 1985

Some things have changed since your fight with Eddie on Friday. Flipped, really. Your eyes no longer sought him out. You do your best to avoid looking at him whether it was in the halls or in your shared classes. Knowing the sight of him would only bring back that sting in your chest.

Eddie on the other hand, couldn’t tear his eyes away from you whenever you’re in his sight. Watching you in regret, longing, confusion, hurt, all twisted into one. Eddie’s confident in himself most of the time, except for in a few areas. This situation with you and how to handle it moving forward is one of the latter. It’s a big fucking mess he isn’t sure how to fix. He knows with the way things went on Friday after you made the first move to talk to him, that it had to be him this time to try to make things right. 

You take your time walking down the quiet halls before the end of the lunch period, hearing the distant, muffled chatter from the lunchroom. You open your locker, putting away your books from your morning classes, switching them out with your afternoon ones. Just as you finish putting the last book in your bag, your locker slams shut in front of you, causing your head to whip toward the culprit you didn’t notice come up next to you till now.

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you, don’t you piggy?” Jason seethes out, hand pressed against your now closed locker door. Your smirk at him as you lean against it.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, well I don’t know who the hell you think you are or who you think you're talking to bu-”

“You know, I remember you from years ago. The last time I lived here.” You interrupt before looking him up and down, “Jason Carver. Back then you were just a scrawny guy, trailing behind the older jocks, carrying that ever so fragile ego in tow with theirs.” You look back up to meet his eyes, brows furrowed above them. “I see you’ve grown a few inches, even bulked up a bit. Looks like that’s about all that’s changed, though.” You watch as he processes your words, your insult.

“You fat fucking bitch” He says through gritted teeth, face turning red.

“Oh come on, Carver. Don’t you have anything fresher than that?” you say flatly, cocking an eyebrow at him. You watch as his body tenses up.

“Looks like I need to teach you and that smart mouth a lesson” He says, taking a step closer to you. You don’t move an inch, refusing to give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of you.

“Oh no. What are you gonna do?!” You say sarcastically. “You don’t scare me, Carver.”

You watch as a vein protrudes from his forehead, face turning a deeper red. 

It all happens so quickly. One of his arms pulls back, raising in the air in the motion to slap you, but it doesn’t come. Curly dark hair appears behind him, before Jason’s thrown flat on his ass in front of you.

Eddie had been outside smoking before lunch ended. On his way back into the school, he spots you and Jason. He slows his steps, listening in on the quickly escalating conversation. You’re teetering on the edge and you don’t care. As fragile as Jason’s ego is, so is his masculinity. Eddie wasn’t sure if Jason's above hitting a girl, but he knows that’s where this could go. He creeps closer, eyeing the way Jason’s hand begins to twitch. Waiting for the string to snap, and it does. When he spots Jason’s hand raise, Eddie swoops in. With a foot behind Jason’s, Eddie wraps his arm around Jason’s front, pulling him till he’s falling back on the floor. 

Eddie was no stranger to fights, the jocks of Hawkins having taken their frustrations out of him plenty of times. He didn’t like putting himself in the line of fire, but he has and would do it in a heartbeat for the people he cares about. Despite how he’s acted, you’re one of those people.

Your eyes widen, at the fact Jason was about to hit you in the middle of the school, and at seeing Eddie before you, swooping in out of nowhere to defend you. Your eyes lock with his and everything slows down, so many emotions and words unsaid flowing between you with just a look. For a moment your mind flashes back to 5th grade Eddie, reaching his hand out to help you off the ground, worry and sympathy filling his eyes. History repeating itself. You take a deep breath as the memory hits you, staring into Eddie’s brown eyes. In that moment, it’s only you two. No one else. No white brick halls. Just you and Eddie, conveying so much to each other through just your eyes.

Jason’s groans pull you from your trance, your eyes leaving Eddie’s to look down at him. You drop down to one knee, getting into Jason’s face. Eyes popping open wide when he senses you so close. You look at him with fire in your eyes as you point a finger in his face.

“Let me tell you something, you piece of shit. I didn’t come back here to deal with your little brat boy bullshit. If I see you try to put your hands on any of my friends, let alone me, again… I will make you regret it. And don’t think that I won’t.” You hiss, voice full of steel. Staring at him with as much intensity as he held earlier. You relish in the brief moment of fear that flashes through his eyes before his face hardens in frustration and embarrassment, chest heaving with deep, short breaths.

A silence falls before the bell rings to end the lunch period, breaking you all out of the moment. Jason quickly pulls himself to his feet before students flood the halls, not wanting anyone to see him in his embarrassing position. You rise with him. He fixes his letterman jacket, staring daggers between you and Eddie.

“Fucking freaks” he huffs before turning around, stomping down the hall quickly as it fills with students.

Both you and Eddie relax, releasing a breath before you’re just standing there awkwardly next to each other. You resecure your bag on your shoulder before chancing a look at Eddie, who's already staring at you. Reading you, assessing you, trying to tell if you’re okay.

You clear your throat before nodding your head at him.

“Thank you” you mutter softly. When he doesn’t immediately say anything back, your body takes the lead, quickly walking away toward your next class. 

Eddie considers chasing after you, but he doesn’t know what the hell he’d say if he did. He just watches you walk away before he takes slow steps to follow you to your shared class together.

In the two classes you have together, you can feel his eyes on you. You catch him a few times, eyes locking with his before one of you quickly looks away. 

You feel like you have whiplash. From the switch up of the Eddie you faced on Friday that hated your guts, to the Eddie who didn’t waste a second coming to defend you, with only a few days passing in between. You can’t wrap your head around it. You know he cares, he wouldn’t have been so angry before if he didn’t, but you assumed he was done with you, hated you. But someone that hates you wouldn’t rush into potential harms way to defend you, right?

A few more stolen glances and the muffled voices of your teachers’ as you’re lost in thought fills the remainder of your school day. When you leave your final class, stopping at your locker before walking out the front doors, you wonder if he’ll come up behind you, apologize for his behavior on Friday and give you another chance. But it doesn’t happen, making the walk to your truck uninterrupted. You want to chastise yourself for holding that hope, but what happened today can’t mean nothing. It just can’t. You don’t want it to.

You spend the remainder of your afternoon trying to do your homework. It takes everything in you to focus, almost giving up when the calculus problems push you right to the edge in frustration. You let out a huff in relief as you finish the problems and slam your notebook shut, throwing your head back as you slouch in your chair. Rubbing your hands over your face before you hear your mom unlocking the front door. When you note the time and sun setting through your window, you get up and make your way to the kitchen to start making dinner. You browse through the cupboard before your eyes land on a package of pasta. Spaghetti it is. 

As you wait for the meat to brown, your mind replays the events of the day. Landing back into the loop your thoughts had been stuck in all afternoon about Eddie. Trying to make sense of it all, of him. The moment your eyes locked this afternoon made your heart ache, and still does when you think of it now.

You aren’t sure when exactly you first fell in love with Eddie Munson.

The first day you met when he came to your rescue from bullies? That time in the woods when you were 10 when he insisted you be the trapped princess his mission was to rescue? The countless Friday nights you spent staying up late to watch The Midnight Special, eventually falling asleep on each other's shoulders? The first time he shared his mom’s records with you? The first time he really opened up to you about the loss of his mom, and the strenuous relationship with his Dad? That night your parents fighting got so bad you snuck out of your window and went to his trailer in tears, consoling you and doing anything he could to cheer you up? That time he almost went to fight your mom when he saw the red mark on your cheek? Or maybe it was the time he told you you’re beautiful the way you are, when your mom and everyone’s criticisms of your body weighed too heavily on your mind? 

You can’t pinpoint which event triggered the change from seeing Eddie as your friend, to your crush. What event marked the transition to being in love with your best friend, seeing and imagining him in ways beyond a regular friend would. You aren’t sure when, but you know you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember. An unrequited love that made your heart ache with every pet name bestowed upon you, with every flash of that devilish smile and irresistible dimples, with every use of his deep, animated voice for dramatic storytelling. An ache you’d decided for years you could stifle to keep his friendship. An ache that turned into a sharp pain hearing his voice over the phone, hundreds of miles away. A pain you’d decided you couldn’t bear anymore. Maybe if you hadn’t been in love with him, things would’ve been different. You wouldn’t have pulled away. 

So foolish. Desperately longing for things you couldn’t have. Longing so desperately you pushed away the best person in your life, the very person you longed for. A decision that didn’t take long for you to regret, but in your mind was too late to fix. Now, after today, you aren’t so confident about that.

You sit on the couch with your mom, eating Spaghetti and watching Magnum P.I. reruns as your thoughts continue. Mindless small talk about your days, vision zoning out as you stare at the tv, petting Henny who sits in your lap, and a heightened awareness of Eddie’s presence only 100 feet away. An hour later when your mom announces she’s going to bed, you ponder how to spend the rest of your night. You know you won’t be able to fall asleep yourself anytime soon, anticipating one of those nights you won’t be able to shut your mind off. 

You wander to your room, shutting your door as you reach into one of your dresser drawers for your little stash box. Sighing in frustration when you notice you only have enough left for one more smoke.

You roll a quick blunt before throwing on a flannel and slipping out the front door. You take a deep inhale of the fresh air, relishing in the cool breeze of the late September night as you begin the short walk to the little neighborhood park at the end of your street. You don’t notice the figure on the porch across the street smoking a cigarette in the dark as you walk, taking in the sound of the breeze blowing through the leaves on the trees, the quietness of the park beyond the very faint sound of some network sitcom playing on a tv.

You sit on a swing and begin to move back and forth slowly as memories flood back. This playground hasn’t changed a bit since you first moved to Forest Hills Trailer Park 9 years ago. Paint faded and chipping, old mulch littered around the playground, and rusted metal chains on the swing that creaks with each movement. Eddie and you spent countless afternoons here in the early years of your friendship. Swinging together, laughing as you’d watch Eddie do the monkey bars, spinning each other on the merry-go-round till you thought you’d get sick.

You put the blunt to your lips and light it, taking a deep inhale as you look around the abandoned playground, hoping the weed would help to calm your mind enough to get some sleep. You rest your head against the metal swing chain, feet softly kicking at the mulch and dirt beneath you. You don’t hear the soft footsteps on pavement approaching you till they’re only a couple feet away, head shooting up at the intrusion when the sound meets your ears. Eddie clears his throat, hands in his vest pockets as he stands at the edge of the playground. Your movements still at the sight of him, streetlights illuminating his figure and messy curls. When your body stiffens and you remain silent, Eddie takes a few steps closer.

“I-uh, I come in peace, promise.” He says softly, raising his hands in surrender. “Mind if I join you?” he asks, head gesturing to the empty swing next to you. You only nod in response before casting your eyes down. You take another hit as he sits down next to you, praying the calming effects you sought would kick in quicker.

You’re both silent for a while, the light wind blowing through the trees, neighborhood noises, and soft creaks from the swing set the only sounds filling the space between you. Eddie’s knee bobs anxiously before he clears his throat.

“I um, just wanted to apologize for Friday. The way I acted, some of the things I said… I let my emotions get the best of me. I didn’t really give you much room to talk, and I’m sorry for that.” Eddie says nervously, eyes turning to look at you as he finishes. You nod in response again, not looking his way.

“I understand. I don’t blame you.” Silence falls between you again before you look towards him. “Thank you again, for earlier today. You didn’t need to step in like that.” Eddie chuckles softly.

“Oh, I know you could’ve handled him just fine on your own, but you shouldn’t have had to... It’s no problem, really. Not my first run in with him anyway.” You wonder just how many times Eddie’s had to deal with Carver and the other jocks, just how bad those run-ins have possibly gotten. In a sign signaling truce, you hand your blunt to him, offering a hit. He gladly accepts with a soft smile before taking a hit.

“Since when do you smoke the devil’s lettuce?”

You giggle softly, letting a smile spread to your cheeks.

“About a year now, same with these” You say, pulling the pack of cigarettes from your pocket enough for him to see. Eddie tsk’s in response, passing the blunt back to you.

“Naughty naughty.” He teases in a deep voice, eyeing you while blowing out smoke. You tear your eyes away and back to the mulch beneath your feet, the sight enough to send a shiver up your spine. 

After a few more passes between you, the blunt is gone and you’re left to face the inevitable conversation. You rub your sweaty palms against your thighs as you work up the courage.

“I just wanted to say again, I’m sorry for how things went. For dropping contact. It’s entirely my fault and… I’m really sorry for doing that to you, Eddie. You didn’t deserve that.” Your eyes peek at him. He’s faced forward, nodding softly in response as he lights a cigarette. He moves his hips slightly, enough to turn his body more toward yours. 

“So why did you do it?” he asks quietly, dark eyes looking up from his cigarette to meet yours. A somber look on his face, a stark contrast from a few days ago. You take a shaky deep breath while turning your head to look up at the stars littering the sky.

You can’t tell him the truth. You can’t tell him you stopped returning his calls because you were so in love with him that the distance, the sound of his voice over the phone caused your heart to ache so deeply that you couldn’t take it anymore, that you’d recluse to your room and cry after each call.

“We were so close and it hurt so much to be torn apart. Every time I heard your voice on the phone… it just” you take another deep breath, “it was just a reminder that I wouldn’t see you again and that just hurt too much to deal with. I didn’t want to deal with it. So… I secluded. I avoided you. I know it might not make sense, that it might not be a good enough answer for you, but it’s the only one I have.” 

You didn’t exactly lie. It’s not the full truth but you were still as honest as you could let yourself be. He’s quiet for a minute as he takes in your words before letting out a deep sigh. 

“I guess I get that,” He does, he felt the pain too. The way his heart ached in longing every time he heard your voice, every time he’s thought about you since. It wasn’t enough for him to stop calling, but he still understands you shared the same pain during every call. “But you could’ve seen me again, you’ve been visiting in the summers this whole time.” he protests softly.

“Eddie, when I stopped calling I didn’t know I was going to come back to visit.” You shake your head lightly before turning your body towards him, mirroring his. “I mean, I figured I’d come back and see my Dad eventually, but uh if you remember, he wasn’t exactly in the best mental state when we left and was also locked up so, I didn’t really know anything about what would happen.” You look away from him and towards your lap, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your flannel. “It’s not that I don’t regret it, I do. But by the time I changed my mind and found out about coming back in the summer I was just… like, paralyzed. It had only been two months after I stopped calling, but I was afraid. Afraid it was too much time that’d passed, afraid you’d moved on and replaced me, afraid you wouldn’t forgive me… so I didn’t do anything. Just let it be. The whole time I just told myself you probably didn’t care much anyway.” Eddie blinks at you, wide-eyed as you finish before scoffing lightly.

“You really think I would’ve ‘replaced’ you that easily? That quickly? You were my best friend too, Y/N. The closest I’ve ever had, even closer than Ronnie, you know that. How could you think I wouldn’t care?”

“Come on, Eddie. You’re telling me your brain never fucks with you like that?” You ask, fingers picking a cigarette out of your pack and lighting it quickly. After an inhale you continue, “I mean logically, I know that you felt the same about our friendship. Plenty of memories and moments to prove it. But I just kept thinking back to when I first told you I was leaving. Sure, you seemed disappointed but you weren’t as upset as I was, you didn’t cry. And despite knowing I've only seen you cry like, twice before in all those years, my brain still just clung onto that. Like ‘See! He doesn’t really care, not as much as you.’” You shake your head in disappointment and frustration with yourself as you take another hit. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“No,” Eddie answers quickly, squashing his own cigarette in the mulch with his Reebok sneakers. He looks at you, a sympathetic look etched across his features. “I know what that’s like.” You’re both quiet at first, letting the new information and understanding fall into place. You rock yourself back and forth on the swing slowly, gathering your words before you speak them.

“Look, I don’t expect you to forgive me and I don’t know what I could do to make it up to you but, I just need to say again that I’m sorry. I would take it all back if I could. I’ve really missed you.” You finish, eyes meeting his. You hope they’re portraying your sincerity as his own search your face. He looks away from you as a small smile tugs at one side of his lips, feet kicking at the mulch below.

“Yeah well… I missed you too.” He breathes out, eyes meeting yours again. A small smile tugs at your own lips. After a few moments of silence, he finishes. “I forgive you.”

He leans towards you, pinky finger extended. You choke out a laugh at the sight, relief washing over you. You wrap your pinky around his, closing your eyes to stop them from watering as your smile deepens.

When your fingers detach, you sigh deeply and open your eyes to meet his again.

“Thank you” you say quietly, warmth spreading through your body. It feels like a massive weight has been taken off your shoulders. The optimism and hope you haven’t felt since last Sunday, before your first day back at Hawkins, creeps its way back into your mind and body. You note how much lighter your chest feels as it moves with each breath, and the knot you’ve felt in your stomach for a week begins to loosen.

You stay there for a while, lightly swinging back and forth as you and Eddie dive into discussions about new bands, albums, and movies that have come out since you moved. Concerts you’ve been to since. Eddie smiles seeing that you haven’t changed one bit since you’d left, even mentioning bands and movies he hadn’t even heard of, promising to share your tapes with him at some point. He finds himself getting lost watching you as you excitedly describe the Journey concert you went to with your cousins in 83’. Smiling when he notices the sparkle in your eyes as you rave about Steve Perry’s voice and how they played your favorite songs. Laughing as you pout in jealousy when he describes the Metallica concert he went to with Gareth earlier this year. It all feels so familiar, so comfortable.

You’re so lost in conversation you don’t notice how much time passes by until Eddie checks his watch and whistles. It’s almost 11:30pm, nearly 2 hours since you first walked down to the playground. The hesitancy you held about your ability to get a goodnight’s rest tonight was gone. You feel like you’re floating as you and Eddie walk the short distance back to your trailers, Eddie telling you about Hellfire’s current campaign. 

“You know, you’re more than welcome to join us sometime. You already know half the club.” He offers as you reach the end of your driveway. 

“I’ll definitely think about it, thanks.” You give him a small smile.

“Cool. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” He returns your smile as he rocks back and forth on his heels lightly, hands shoved into his vest pockets. 

“Oh, wait! Kind of an odd question but before I forget, do you know anyone around here that sells?” You ask as the thought of your now empty stash box pops into your head. Eddie smoked with you, you figure he knew where to get some around here.

And boy, did he. 

A bright, cheeky smile stretches across his face.

“Oh yeah, I know a guy.” He says with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes before he bows dramatically, “Your friendly neighborhood drug dealer at your service, my dear.”

[rebelfell]

I love your writing so much it's giving me so much joy. I was close to dropping out of the Eddie fandom because I couldn't enjoy the current trends of writing him but you write him so well I'm falling in love again. Do you have any writers on here that inspire you or that you would recommend to follow if that's ok.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Oh. Oh, anon. The way I wish I could print this out and hang it above my mantle. And I don’t even have a mantle. Thank you so much, truly.

I think I would have to tag every single writer in this fandom to accurately portray who inspires me. There is such a wealth of work about him, there’s something for everyone out there.

Whatever version of Eddie you want to read, he exists, and it’s not a matter of anyone’s version being better/worse, but what speaks to you.

I am gonna list some of my favorites, because I deeply want to give people their flowers, but my brain is also mashed potatoes and I hate for anyone to feel overlooked/left out.

So this is BY NO MEANS a complete list.

My sideblog @madeofmunson has pretty much everything I’ve read and my blathering recs. I’m gonna link this post I made last year, in which I babbled about some of the stories that really impacted me as I entered the Eddie fandom.

A number of them are what I would consider to be modern classics in the fandom, so I doubt you’ve missed them, but just in case 😘

And the rest are going under a cut because I am a loquacious so and so (if you couldn’t already tell)

@aphrogeneias writes such a fun, silly, goofy Eddie, but WATCH OUT because he’ll hit you with the feels out of nowhere. rockstar!eddie and his assistant make my knees weak on the regular.

@bettyfrommars has it out for me, specifically. They ruin me over and over and KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH IT (partly because I keep going back but that’s neither here nor there)

@br0ck-eddie is the undisputed reigning champ of soft, sweet eddie. They put out all of these little vignettes that make me feel so warm and gooey inside like I’m literally butter in the microwave.

@jo-harrington’s mind is WILD. I don’t even know how they come up with some of their concepts and I can only imagine what it’s like to create whole universes in your head from nothing.

@lesservillain fucks my brain up every time they post. I learned a whole lotta stuff I never knew about myself from their omegaverse fics 😳 Namely what the omegaverse was…

Read Red String and thank me later.

@littlexdeaths I want to put in my pocket and carry around with me all the time. They will start with just a little blurb and the next thing you know you’re swept away in the current of a whole saga and desperate to find out what happens next.

@lonelysatellites is a devastatingly good writer. I still think about Safe Hands and Bruises and how they altered my fucking brain chemistry. Actually, now that you mention it…I might need to go re-read them…again…

@mrsjellymunson is a radiant ball of light. They write stories that are just FUN and silly and sexy and they deserve only the best 💖

@somnambulic-thing is…an enigma. They have the capacity to write something so emotionally devastating I have to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling for 10 hours about it. Or they will write something that is so silly and lighthearted it makes your belly ache with joy and love.

And then go and write something that is BOTH.

@the-unforgivenn is literally the sweetest soul who ever lived, I think they were a piece of candy in a past life. They write a great Eddie and a great Corroded Coffin (specifically Gareth) became they really nail that band banter/dialogue.

@trashmouth-richie makes me horny and makes me laugh and makes me horny all over again. They write with a real razor sharp wit and confoundingly good smut 😵‍��

@urhoneycombwitch is so creative, so skilled. They create the kinds of Eddie’s that burrow under your skin and make their home there. Roomate/neighbor!eddie have my heart.

@word-wytch just received a lot of the brunt of my flailing about one of their chapters, so if you haven’t read Don’t Stand So Close To Me - DO IT.

Seriously there are still so many more 😭 But I gotta stop or I’m never gonna actually post this. If you’re reading this and your name isn’t here, it so would be if I had infinite time ♥️ Yes, you.

I did not even touch on my Steve writers???????? (see @stuffedwithsteve for them)

[somewhere-in-wales]

What if, in this moment, Aziraphale & Crowley found themselves unexpectedly transported to our world?

And then met these two idiots?

And they all had to work together to get Aziraphale & Crowley back?

I wrote a fic about it (When Worlds Collide). Here are some nice things people wrote underneath its chapters:

"I can't tell you how much I'm in love with this fic. Like I want to marry it, right now! The amounts of times I literally shrieked with laughter reading this. I had to stop to wipe my eyes, I am dying"

"In love w this actually. the SHENANIGANS!!!! this was a joy to read"

"this fic is eating me alive. an immediate cult classic. if i had your permission and any ability to execute this at all, i would bind this fic in leather and carry it with me all my days like a spiritual nomad with their dearest tome. You Are Taking Me There."

"JFJDJDJDJFJFKDUSHCMCKCD I NEED TO GO TO BED BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD"

"Oh, Chapter 4 is my favorite so far. And that's saying a lot, because every time I read a new one I think 'there's no way this can be topped...it's too good, too funny, too fresh a take on these characters"

You can find it on AO3 here When World's Collide, there's an exert below, and if you're feeling generous enough to do a little signal boost re-blog, I will love you forever.

"Terribly sorry, but I wonder if I might help settle this business about whether we are who we say we are?"

Michael and David exchange glances.

"I doubt it" says Michael, reaching around the door frame for his water bottle whilst stepping out of the bathroom to take a swig. Aziraphale sweeps his hand in an arc as Michael puts the bottle to his lips, glugging. He immediately coughs and spits red wine forcefully across the room.

“Holy shit!” Exclaims David, jumping backwards to avoid being splashed.

"What the Hell was that for?" Michael splutters angrily, wiping his mouth, eyes moving between Aziraphale and Crowley

"Did you swap that out when I was filming?" he asks, irritably, looking around at the mess. "You've completely ruined the costume."

"I do hate to see it ruined," Aziraphale worries, glancing at Crowley who mock pouts. "No harm done to the furnishings at least" he says, as the stains miraculously disappear. He turns to Crowley again, appealing.

"Yes, fine" responds the Demon, getting up dramatically. He eyes Michael, who's still agitated, and feels like someone is looking into his soul. The gaze of an actual Demon, not just his acting partner, is enough to stifle any remaining irritation. With his eyes fixed on Michael, Crowley lifts his hand to click his fingers, and removes the stains from the actor's costume completely. Michael looks wordlessly at where the stain was, and raises his gaze appealingly to David.

"It's not... they can't... this is ...." he tails off, walking over to the table and sitting down.

Crowley sweeps his eyes over David's features "he's Aziraphale?" he asks, a depth of skepticism to his tone, "this guy?"

"Yes", says David "he's lovely really" Aziraphale side-eyes David before flitting his gaze to Crowley.

"And you're me?" Crowley asks slowly, with equal depth.

"Y...yes" says David with rather less confidence. Even underneath the dark glasses, he can tell the Demon is searching his eyes. "I might just take the contacts out" he says, to no one in particular, and ducks back into the bathroom.

"They'll need our costumes back. Where are you two going to sleep tonight?" Michael asks.

"Oh I don't sleep" Aziraphale shakes his head as though he's been offered an unappealing appetiser.

"I do"

"We'll get you a hotel room" says Michael. Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances and Michael resists the urge to settle their discomfort by saying they'll get two. This situation is ridiculous, but he'll be damned if he isn't going to have a little fun with it.

"Thank you" Aziraphale offers, politely.

The door to the bathroom opens and David comes out, eyes back to normal. Crowley looks him over, flicking his eyes to Aziraphale, gauging the Angel's reaction. Aziraphale stares at David's face, breathing slowly, mind retracing memories long gone, but never forgotten.

"We better go then" Crowley huffs.

"Not dressed like that" David gestures to Aziraphale, who looks down at his clothes fondly, smoothing down his jacket.

"I have standards, you know?" He says.

"He's not wrong" Crowley agrees.

Michael, who had been watching Aziraphale's reactions thoughtfully, taking mental notes, speaks up "if we go in pairs and break up leaving, it's possible that no one will notice two David and Michael's leaving."

David looks uncertain.

"Unless you have a better idea?" Michael asks, "One, single, better idea?" Crowley and Aziraphale both flick their heads to look at Michael in recognition.

"No, let's do that" David relents. "I'm going to change." He steps back into the bathroom.

"Me too" says Michael, heading for the door "I'll be back in 5 minutes."

A few minutes later, Michael returns in the outfit he arrived in that day, to the general disdain of Aziraphale.

"Do you still think we should come to an arrangement?" Asks Crowley, smiling at this turn of events.

"I can't wear that" Aziraphale gestures to Michael's clothes, completely failing to hide his disgust at the suggestion he should wear such an outfit.

"What's wrong with this?" Michael asks. He's wearing jeans and a shirt, nothing worthy of such disdain. His question is ignored.

"You have to, Angel" Crowley teases, just as the bathroom door opens and David enters in a bright purple jumper. Crowley looks at him, then back at Aziraphale, a panicked expression briefly flicks across his features. The Angel raises his eyebrows and puts his hands on his hips in a look that communicates 'your move'.

"Oh Hell no, that's not happening" the Demon states. Clicking his fingers, he changes Michael and Aziraphale into sharp suits, David and himself into slightly-less-tight-than-usual black jeans and a slim black shirt. "Take it or leave it" he says, glancing briefly at Aziraphale, who's eyes soften, and lips form a slight smile in thanks whilst he smooths down the well-fitting suit.

"Yes, much better" The Angel sighs.

"For you, maybe, I'd never turn up to work in this" Michael fiddles uncomfortably with the collar.

"You should dear, you look ...nice" Aziraphale says, moving over to Michael to smooth his collar. Michael frowns at the Angel, noting the back-handed compliment.

"The hotel's not far," says David. "I'll call for a car. I'll take Aziraphale." Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances in silent resignation. "We should wait at least 10 minutes before you call for yours" he raises his eyebrows, a quick glance at Crowley. He reckons he has the easier job.

"So, I'll be pretending to be..." Aziraphale gestures to Michael.

"Michael" Michael looks unconvinced by this.

"Yes, I know, I just wondered if there's anything I should know about you?"

"Probably best if you just don't talk" Michael glances between Aziraphale and Crowley. But Aziraphale looks very uncomfortable at this suggestion.

"He's an actor" David tries to offer something that will help.

"Yes" Aziraphale responds in a tone that shows his patience is wearing thin.

"He lives in Wales" David tries again.

"Oh," Aziraphale smiles, a look of relief forming on his features "Oh lovely, I do love the Welsh Coast" he beams, looking at each of the other trailer occupants. "Yes, yes I think I can handle this" he nods, confidently, adjusting his cuffs.

David smiles back, broadly.

Michael and Crowley are less confident, their eyes meet with a knowing expression of concern.

Continued here

[eoieopda]

[visual content blog recommendations]

we see fic recs all the time, but i don’t think i’ve ever seen rec lists for visual content (gif/art/gfx/etc.) creators! they’ve been dealing with a bunch of shit lately between reposts, tumblr garbage, etc., so i wanna shout-out some favorites. thank you for keeping us fed!!

disclaimer: this is not an exhaustive list!! if you have recommendations of your own, please feel free to expand on this yourself and/or drop some of your faves in the replies for others to see. self-promo is always welcome here, too ✨ p.s. some of these are recent finds for me, so pls expect to see more of them on my blog. eta: i will be adding more as i go!!

[bts]

@yooboobies — réka’s gif sets are *chef’s kiss* and the ART? omg. the talent!!! 😭 we simply have to simp.

@cordiallyfuturedwight — apart from being one of the coolest/funniest people i’ve found on army tumblr, i am a kayla stan because the niche themes for her gif sets (ex. bangtan turtlenecks series) feel like they’re made 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 me 👏🏻 even though they absolutely aren’t, lmao.

@hopeinthebox — the bts as reductress headline + incorrect bangtan series are probably my favorite pieces of content on the entire internet??? also, lizzy is absolutely gd hilarious. tags are 11/10. a blessing upon my dash.

@kimtaegis — i’m not visually artistic enough to say this in a way that makes sense, but annie’s gifs are just… stunning? like, the colors? idk about the process that goes into that, but i imagine it takes a lot of time/finesse to be this vivid.

@kithtaehyung — ryen is the renaissance man of army tumblr, fr. not only can she write (like!!!) but she’s multi-faceted and insanely creative with her graphic design. i want her to tutor me, lmao.

@raplinenthusiasts — ooohhhhh my god. the coloring of their gifs makes my brain go brrrrtttt. this bts x the office set is on my “always reblog” list; i’ll share it every time i come across it.

@heybaetae — this set in particular is on my “always reblog” list, no matter how many times i’ve done so already. also, idk how to describe this, but kelli’s gifs are just…. crispy 🤌🏻 like, so satisfying with the…. texture? filtering? contrast? i’m an idiot re: editing terms, but go peep them and you’ll know what i’m trying to say.

@kth1 — literally who could ever forget maggie’s 100 days of (member) series??? the amount of work that had to go into that? unfathomable.

@jeurias — i want to wallpaper my house and office with their gfx. i’m deadass.

@jinstronaut — emmeline has been doing her “a jin a day while he’s away” series for OVER 250 DAYS NOW. i have never been nor will i ever be able to commit to anything to this level.

[multi/skz/atz/svt/etc.]

@starryoong — do not get me started on starry’s paintings, sketches, etc. because i will never shut up. ever. j’adore 🫠 is also a five-star human being.

@irlvernon — my queue is probably 80% max gifs at any given time. god-tier, fr. a must-follow for carats, as far as i’m concerned.

@vcrnons — incredible gifs, lovely human, and also the writer of some of my favorite svt fics??? we stan.

@yelhsaart — i don’t have any words for how much i love their art so please imagine guttural screaming instead. asdfghjkl!!!

@hizuillu — ……breathtaking. legitimately stunning skz art. like…… i have heart palpitations.

@snug-gyu — THE USE OF COLORS. i’m always a simp for pantone-inspired sets; they just scratch an itch in the back of my brain, and BOY HOWDY, is my brain satisfied 😵‍💫

@yunwooz — again, i have no idea what i’m talking about when it comes to the gif-making process, but the colors!!! the COLORS!!! like, taking a mv that’s not super vivid/is fairly greyscale and bringing it to life? ya know????

@booskwan — you want incredible gifs? they’ve got em. you want stunning gfx? they’ve got em. seriously, idk what to tell you except “pause right here and go follow immediately”.

@haechannabelle — listen……. annabelle’s art style is 😗🤌🏻 (that’s a chef’s kiss). the use of color, and the technique, and and and — ! ALSO, i must mention that she took, like, 50 hours to compile a boycott-friendly k-pop playlist. their vibes are simply impeccable.

rev. 4/10/24

[trainsinanime]

Your favorite fanfic writer doesn't know (but would like to)

Let's talk about comments on fanfics. This is not meant as a guide or call to action, just a bit of observations. Personally, I always saw it as impolite to ask for reviews or kudos or comments or likes or reblogs or whatever. That's not a rational point of view, it just reflects how I am. And people actually telling others that they have to leave any of this feedback? I've blocked folks over that. In my mind that's not okay. I'm not announcing a change of that, this is not a policy, just some deep-seated mental issues, but I want to write down some more things that have been going through my mind, from the perspective of someone who occasionally writes fanfics. My previous suggestion in this regard was mostly to write some fanfic yourself and see what happens and what you'd like to happen, because it's genuinely fun and I think you probably have more to say than you realise.

But there's also another point here, and that is that your favourite fanfic writer has no idea that they are. If you're anything like me, then it will seem like the great writers in your fandom are obvious. Also, the last time you bought Blåhajs, it ended with you having to flee a smoke-filled subway tunnel. The great stories and great writers in your universe are facts of nature. You read a story and you think, "this is the greatest thing I've ever seen." A story rewires your brain chemistry forever. You keep coming back and reading that one fic whenever the mood hits you. It feels obvious that this story is great. How could it not be?

It feels trite to say that the author of that fic doesn't know that unless you tell them, but it's hard to really understand the feeling unless you've been there yourself. You write a story, but is it any good? Maybe you get a lot of kudos, or maybe very little, but what does either of that mean? Kudos can mean literally anything from "loved this" to "didn't close the tab in disgust". Maybe you just got unlucky. Maybe you just got lucky. What do these numbers mean? What is a good number of kudos? 1? 10? 100? 1000? Should I calculate ratios? How do I know whether people like this?

In light of this, a comment where someone just said, "I loved this", has an almost incalculable worth. A comment where someone says they read this over and over again, or quotes lines they loved, or something? You can't imagine how valuable that is. A while ago someone told me "a couple of us are talking about this on Discord, we love it and we keep repeating our favorite lines". I thanked them, but I was too polite to say, "really? What are they saying? Which are your favorite lines? How many people are there who love it? What are their names? Which lines are the favorite ones, please, tell me!". Part of me still regrets that, because I so desperately want to know! I don't think it was a public Discord and I never heard from the others on it, but just the idea that they're out there and they like my story was so powerful. (By the way, it's not on any account that's linked from here, please don't try to find that comment.)

Now, I firmly believe that you, as a reader, don't have to care about any of that. I know there are people who disagree with me on this point, very strongly in fact, but I don't think it's necessarily your job to care. It's great if you do, and I think a lot of you do in fact care, that's why I'm writing this. But if you haven't thought about that or don't feel comfortable leaving comments or whatever, that's fine, that's normal, and you are in fact part of the majority. Any well-adjusted fic author has found ways to deal with this. They have learned to love writing for its own sake, or they love re-reading their own fics, or they have a couple of trusted friends who like their work, or ideally all three. Personally I was scared of Discord for the longest time, but it really helps with that. One person who you sort of know going "hey that's neat" can outweigh just about anything else. (Still, there will be days when you post something and you won't get a response and that just plain sucks, no two ways about it.)

But if you do care, if you think it's important that a fanfic writer knows what they mean to you, not because of any concern about the wider unpaid fan creator economy but just because of the way their work affected you, then this is important. Your favorite fanfic writer probably doesn't know and/or believe that they're anyone's favorite, and even if they do, a reminder or learning that someone knew found them will make them incredibly happy. And obviously, all of that applies at least just as much to all the beginners with potential that are out there. So if you're wondering whether it's worth it leaving a comment that says how much you enjoyed something: It probably is. And if you shared this with others and they loved it, or if this is your favourite fic, or if you enjoy how original it is, or how well it does your favourite tropes, or anything like that, the writer is going to be so happy to hear that.

A final aside: This obviously applies even more when it's about fandoms, pairings, subject matter and in particular ratings that are considered a bit embarrassing. Writers who write stuff that, say, happens to be E-rated for whatever reason, doesn't matter, will probably get fewer kudos and comments just because people are embarrassed to have their names show up in the Kudos and Comment sections. If that's you, just a note that it is perfectly okay to comment anonymously, or to create a second separate account for leaving kudos on, commenting on and maybe even posting the somewhat more risqué stuff. Now I'm not saying I have one of these second accounts, at least I'm not saying that in public, but it is an option worth considering.

[lmskitty]

It's time for another fic rec babyyyy!!!!!

Good LORD we are blessed in this fandom. Here are a bunch of incredible writers and fics that I devoured recently and loved every second of. No joke a bunch of these made me properly cry, they are incredible pieces of work and everyone should read them!!

Starting with Honesty Corner by @duckiemimi

College AU satosugu with pizza delivery guy Geto and Utahime/Shoko in the background!!! My fave thing about this was Utahime and Gojo's friendship and the Hasaba twins. The smut is perfection, the characters are so on point and the story just reads beautifully!

I'm gonna cheat and include three works by my beloved @thequeenofsarcaasm all should bow down to her. This counts as 1 because it's in the same AU of hers but god damn I love the way she writes so MUCH. The way the Queen writes love and the way satosugu talk to each other is so spot on for an established couple and it made me so happy because it reminded me exactly of the dumb shit I say to my husband. I'm a sucker for married besties I can't help it 😭. It's just wholesome loveliness. I shouldn't pick faves also but Tsumiki I love you and you deserve the whole universe.

Satosugu family AU. The boys do their best to become good dads and learn and teach their kids as they go along. It hit me so hard as a parent and I loved every moment!

Milestones

Sex Education

Conversations I wish I had with my parents (this was a gift to me and I died on impact I am a ghost now)

Satisfied by rosegoldyoonseok - BDSM Satosugu incredibleness. Just wow. Suguru Geto brat tamer in action. It's too much. I re-read it like every week. I adore it. If you ever catch me staring into the distance I'm thinking about the car scene in this fic.

To feel is to Love by @cj-ackerman17 this one made me SOB. It's so full of love and warmth and god. It's just wonderful.

In another universe, instead of his eyes being the most powerful asset, Satoru is blind. Because of this, he’s mostly alone, unable to be the star child his high-ranking parents wanted him to be.

It’s Suguru Geto that makes him believe he deserves to be loved, and that he is seen. Suguru learns that to feel, is to love.

If you want to read like the greatest love story ever read this fic. It's one of the most romantic things I've read in a long time and the depth into the characters past is incredible. It even made me like Toji. It's that powerful.

@justrustandstardust, the Queen of satosugu comedy is at it again.

5 Times Gojo Satoru Tries to Rizz Up Geto Suguru and 1 Time He (Kind Of) Succeeds

is amazing but now we have a sequel!!!!!

5 Times Gojo Satoru Tries to Bag Geto Suguru and 1 Time He Gets Bagged Himself

Already I'm obsessed. Hotdogumi. Someone call child protection for this boy please. If you want a good time I can literally recommend ALL of their work. @justrustandstardust does comedy SO well. It's perfect.

[frontflip-somersault-express]

Man, Jmart really has done something to my brain. I am constantly on Ao3 now. At work, at the gym, literally any spare moment I get. I am literally at Six Flags with my sibling right now re-reading a fic while I wait in line for rides. Can't go five minutes without reading about my gays. The brainrot persists

[aaizawashouta]

Take It Off

pairing: kankuro x fem!reader

word count: 4.3k

summary: it's been six months since you've last seen each other. you can't help but wonder if he's still yours like you are his. (modern!au)

warnings: smut (18+, minors dni) oral (female receiving), fingering, p in v, cream pie

a/n: this is my first fic ever for this show. I am on my second re-watch of Naruto, so lord, be gracious if anything is out of character.

It’s humid outside, the air clinging to your skin much like the dress you have on. Your heels click against the pavement as they carry you two blocks over. You aren’t close enough to hear the music, but gods, could you feel the bass. It’s the first party to kick off the summer. The sand siblings held a party every year and this one was no different. Well, maybe a little different. The weight of the necklace around your neck is a reminder of just how different everything really was.

The crowd is thick, the air intoxicating. Hungry eyes devour your being as you walk into the familiar home. The sound of your name catches your attention. A sly smile making its way on your face. All your favorite people are here. Your chest tightens a little. Sakura and Ino wrap you in a hug, compliments on your appearance pouring out of them. A bone crushing hug comes from behind you, venom on your tongue ready to bite when you turn to see Naruto. It dies, and all you can do is accept the affection he’s so graciously giving you.

Voices talk over each other, some getting lost in the music. But you know what’s being said. Talks of adventures, and completed missions. The relief of finally being home. The smile never leaves you as you partake in the conversation, you’ve been tucked up into Kiba’s side, his arm thrown lazily over your shoulder. Your best friend since damn near birth, it comes to no surprise that he’s missed you. Sighing, you turn your head, there is no ignoring the knowing gaze of Gaara. He’s been watching you since you got here, Temari too, just a lot more discreet.

“You’re going to leave a scar from your stare burning into my face.”

“You need a drink.”

The both of you stare at each other for a moment. The bass of the music vibrates through you.

“Naruto,” you call, breaking Gaara’s gaze. The blonde perks up at your attention. “Come.”

Normally Kiba would be at your side when it comes to this kind of thing, but that’d be a little too obvious this time. You hear Kiba laugh as Naruto makes his way to your side. If sunshine could be bottled into a person, he’d be it. He’s literally buzzing with energy. Eyes bright and slightly glassy, his signature grin taking up his face.

“Let’s get a drink,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to you.

He nods, leading the way. His giant body parts the crowd a lot easier than you would’ve. His mouth is moving, but you can’t make out the words he says. His free hand flies as he talks, his whole body animated, eager to get his words out. It makes your lips quirk as you watch him. He really is a nice guy, a little clueless and impulsive, but nice nonetheless. If your heart wasn’t already taken by someone else, you could see yourself being completely owned by someone like him.

It’s in the kitchen when he lets go of your hand, lips brushing against your ear to ask what you’d like to drink. You barely hear him over your raging heartbeat. He’s here. Kankuro. He’s right there leaning against the counter, bottle in hand, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It isn’t him that’s getting you worked up though. No, it's the girl that’s hanging on him, doing her best to appear meek whilst shoving her tits in his face. Your nails dig crescent shapes into your palms, teeth biting into your cheek. Huh, maybe things are different now. Naruto, your saving grace, calls your name. You're thankful you were able to look away before you got caught staring. As if you aren’t embarrassed enough.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Whatever is sweet and in a capped bottle, Naru.”

Your smile is sugary sweet when he winks at you. You fiddle with the chain around your neck, almost tempted to take it off. It went from being your hail mary to something that’s condemning you right back to hell. Maybe you made yourself a little too much of a target tonight. Your mind is attacking you and nothing has even happened. You pull slightly at the hem of your dress. It’s tight and it’s not moving—you knew what you were doing.

A snicker has you looking up. Instead of looking at the girl whose nose is the air with the audacity to judge you, your eyes meet his. A gasp gets lodged in your throat, making you choke on your breath. Fingers clinging onto the heavy metal that rests against your chest.

“Don’t think he’ll find what you’re wanting.” Her nasally voice mocks. “It’s rough or nothing around here.”

Your lips push in thought. This girl has no idea who you are. You aren’t here by word of mouth like most people. She has no idea a key to this house sits next to your own on the keychain in your purse. This castle welcomes you in, no matter what.

“Here, sweetheart.” Naruto says as he saunters up to you. “Easy to find when there’s four cases with your name written on it. Gaara really went all out for you tonight.”

Gaara. You need a drink. That’s why he’s in charge around here, you suppose. The guy just always knows. A light laugh escapes you. Naruto smiles at you quizzically, not completely understanding, but happy to see you happy. He really is contagious. Kankuro stiffens, you’re not sure if it’s from your laughter or the fact that Naruto is pressed tightly against you. Either way, you can see how he straightens, shaking the girl off him, his stare never leaving your face.

Ignoring him the best you can, you push on your tiptoes and lightly place a kiss upon Naruto’s cheek. You grin when heat blossoms instantly across his cheeks. “Thank you. Now come on, before Kiba hunts me down for a game of beer pong.”

One of the reasons you hate when Kiba hunts you down for beer pong is the fact that you guys never fucking lose. You’re a dynamic duo, carrying each other like a proper team should. Lee and Naruto are on the side of the table, frustration pouring out of both of them. Sweat beads along your hairline. Your hairdo long since forgotten due to the humidity; it’s now pulled up held loosely in a clip at the back of your head. There’s three cups left on the table, two for you and one for Lee and Naruto. It’s your turn to get the winning shot. You step into position, flicking the access water off the ball when you feel it. The heat of his stare. It’s taking in every inch of you never pausing for more than a moment. There’s nothing you can do other than freeze under such scrutiny.

Kiba calls your name, but you can barely hear him. Your gaze locks onto Kankuro’s. His eyes are blazing. Emotions swirling like a typhoon, desperate to drown you. He’s moving through the sea of bodies, shoulders knocking into others without even a backwards glance. He’s heading towards you and there isn’t much you can do.

Tearing your gaze from his, you squeeze your eyes shut. One, two, three. One, two, three. You can do this. Taking a deep breath, your eyes open, almost stumbling back because Kiba’s right in your face staring at you with a deadpan look.

“What?” You snap.

“What do you mean, ‘what?’ Throw the goddamn ball and win the game. You can fuck him later.”

Your lips part as your eyes narrow. “Listen here, mutt—”

“Don’t act like you guys weren’t just eye fucking each other.” Kiba rolls his eyes. “Plus, if you don’t, I’ll lose fifty bucks to Shikamaru. So help me out, huh?”

You don’t even know what to say. What can you say? He not only called you out on your bullshit, but Kankuro’s too. Kiba smirks, patting the top of your head before moving out of your way. All water, no cup. Lee and Naruto moan at their loss, again, as they down their drinks. Kiba howls, kissing your cheek causing you to squirm away from him. He knows you’re annoyed with him and is trying to be cute.

“I need some air.”

“Two more games,”

“Kiba! Shika is right there, use him. I need to breathe.”

You don’t miss his knowing smirk as you turn and head for the backyard. It’s drastically more quiet and you welcome it. There’s a few people out here, most taking a smoke. Your hand twitches, you should have snagged one from Shikamaru when you were inside. You walk around the yard, pulled deeper into the backyard where the edge of the yard meets the sparse trees. A light laugh escapes you when the sight of an old, roughly put together fort comes into view. Instantly you know it was Gaara’s, a place he could hide when he was younger.

A shriek comes from behind you, a hand flies to your chest as you jump. Gods, you’re wound so tight, the fresh air you were so desperate to get isn’t helping you now. If anything, you’re desperate to go home and wash the night off of you. The more you linger, the more you feel like it’s been a mistake. Even if Gaara and Temari think otherwise. You finger your necklace, the thought of taking it off and leaving it behind dances in your mind once again.

How mad would he be? Would he honestly be surprised? Does it fucking matter? Yes. It does. Because you love him. You’re a goddamn idiot in love with a bigger idiot.

Groaning, your head falls back, clip loosening, hair falling to frame your face. Yeah, it’s time to go home. Four cases of your favorite drink and you only made it through one. You’re only a little bitter about it. Tonight was supposed to be fun. He’s standing behind you when you finally make yourself turn to head inside. His presence makes you pause, eyes widening as your stare meets his. It’s quiet as you both watch each other, neither of you sure of the next move to make. It breaks your heart a little.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you reply, voice light.

“Had a feeling I’d find you out here.”

He leans forward, handing you a bottle. Your lips twitch. You know it in your heart of hearts that it wasn’t fucking Gaara who made sure that your favorite drink was on hand. Rough or nothing around here. You snort, not when it comes to you.

“You been busy?” you ask, taking a pull as a distraction. Whatever will keep you busy. He’s got you on edge, you don’t need to show him just how exposed your nerves are. There’s double meaning to your words, let’s see if he answers honestly.

“Seemed that way, huh?” He laughs as he shakes his head. “No. Gaara’s been keeping us all busy.” You believe him. Kankuro has no reason to lie, especially about that. “So, you and Naruto, huh?”

He takes a step closer, eyes watching you closely. He’s close enough now that you can feel his body heat. His right hand brushes yours, pinky linking with yours before letting go. Your disappointment only lasts a second, soon his fingers are wrapping around your wrist, feeling how your heart beats for him.

“So, still falling for the bait, huh?” You laugh.

His eyebrow quirks at your grin. “Normally it’s Kiba.”

“I got smart.”

Kankuro nods, a small smirk tugging on his lips. It’s turning into a game, making you go from anxious to excited. You step into him this time, your chest brushing against his. It still amazes you just how much bigger he is than you.

“Always such a tease, puppet.” You gulp down a mixture of fear and desire as he applies more pressure to your wrist, your pulse racing madly in between his fingers.

He looks down at you, eyes dancing with mirth before they trail down the rest of you. It’s only a second or two when he pulls you in closer as his hand raises to your chest. You can’t help the strangled gasp that leaves you in a rush when his fingers pull at the necklace around your neck. Lightly, they trace over your skin, making you breakout in goosebumps despite the heat.

“That’s my name.”

“It is.”

“Around your fucking neck.”

“Yes.”

He looks so baffled. It’s almost cute. “Kuro, I haven’t ever belonged to anyone else.”

The door shuts behind you, your back slams into the knob causing you to hiss. You feel Kankuro huff against your neck as he holds back a laugh. Sliding a hand up his neck, your fingers tangle in his hair. There’s no hiding your smile when he groans.

“Baby,” the word is muffled against your skin. “You’re killin’ me.”

“Can always make it worse,”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Your mouth at his neck before placing your lips at his ear. “I’m not wearing anything underneath all this.”

“What the fuck,”

You lean backwards, resting your head on the door. “You know what else?”

“Hmm?”

“I wore this dress just so you could take it off.”

“It’ll end up on the floor, baby. Might just rip the fucking thing off.”

In a smooth, quick movement, Kankuro goes to the floor. heat licks up your spine.You see his small smirk, large hands trailing up and down your bare thighs. You’d done a lot of things before, but never this.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, baby.”

He runs his nose over your center, taking in a deep breath. His hands tighten on your thighs, as if he’s stopping himself from diving right in. You shudder, squeezing your thighs together only for him to pry them apart.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, breathing shallow, watching him as his hand lifts one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. You can’t stop the moan when he kisses your ankle. You can’t help but wonder if he knew he could mold you into anything he wanted. You’ve been his since for as long as you've known him. He could straight out ruin you and you’d thank him.

His hand trails up your leg, rough calluses catching on your skin. There is no buildup, his finger running through your folds, a hum as he collects it before sticking the digit in his mouth.

“You're fucking soaked, babe. Fuck, bet you taste real sweet, huh?”

“Sweet as honey.” It comes out in a sigh.

“That’s fucking right.”

You clench around nothing. Kankuro’s voice was raw, deeper than you’d ever heard it. He gave nothing else before diving in. You moan, your head falling back against the door again. Only to lift it when he smacks your thigh.

“Baby,”

You huff, but nod, biting back your whimper. His tongue is flat as it makes its way through your folds. It’s like he’s done this before. Or at least thought about it. That thought does something to you. Thinking about Kankuro having thoughts about devouring you whole. You have to tell him, god, you have to tell him.

“Kuro,” you murmur, hips lifting to roll against his face.

“Baby.” He says voice thick with arousal. You squirm at the feel of his breath against you. His thumb rolls your clit in circles as his tongue parts your folds. He slips a digit in before replacing it with his tongue.

You grind yourself on his face, barely catching the feel of his teeth and it is exquisite. You whisper his name again, wanting him to look at you, to see you. Want him to know that you’ve only been a mess like this because of him. He holds you open and licks up the seam of your sex, your hips buck, rubbing yourself across his lips and chin.

“Hey, I got you.”

He strokes and teases your pussy. Switching off between his thick fingers and his tongue. He has you quivering. The sounds of you clenching around his fingers, his tongue are obscene and he fucking loves it.

You feel like you’re drowning. Every crashing wave grows higher and higher building a tsunami that can’t be stopped. You move with every flick of his tongue. Heel digging into his shoulder when he sucks your clit into his warm mouth. It almost sends you over.

“You taste so good, baby. So fucking perfect for me.”

You can’t help but laugh. “That’s because I’m made for you.”

Kankuro groans at your words. Fingers digging into your exposed thigh. You’re right on the edge. Just a little bit more. A simple push and—you cry out when his thumb brushes against your clit in a perfect circle. The perfect pressure and you're flying.

“Oh my god,”

He groans against you, feeling your release. You clench tightly on his tongue as he fucks it into you, taking everything you’ve got to give. He keeps up his pace, helping you ride it out. As your hips slow down he replaces his tongue with his fingers, his mouth going back to your sensitive nub.

“Kuro—Kankuro, no. Please.”

“Come on, be a good girl. Be a nice puppet for me, please. One more, just one more.”

It shoots straight to your core. You’re desperate, small whimpers falling from your lips. Good girl. Of course you’d be his good girl. Whatever kept him here with you is what you’d be.

You're dripping down your thighs. You know it’s all over his face, dripping down his chin. He catches your eye when he pulls away, a grin tilting his lips. He’s shining with your release. Leaning forward he catches you by surprise and kisses you. You hum into it, opening up to let him explore your mouth. Licking into him, you taste yourself. Odd, different, but not unpleasant. You're distracted when his fingers pump into you, curling into that spongy part of you that you can’t even reach. It hits fast and hard.

Kankuro’s chuckling to himself when he stands to his feet.

Your eyes narrow as your breath evens out. “Got something to say, Kuro?”

He grabs your hand and presses it against his groin. Even through the fabric of his jeans you can tell that he’s hard as steel and burning hot. “I think I’ve done enough with my mouth, hmm?”

“You going take me to bed, or fuck me against the door?”

His eyes darken at your words. “Baby I don’t know if I want to fuck you so hard the neighbors know my name, or fuck you to where you’re stupid for my cock and my cock only.”

You don’t say much as you get dragged over to his bed. Clothes are tossed on the floor. Kankuro curses under his breath when you pull your top off, his hands pulling you to him so he can suck a nipple into his mouth. You sigh with the building pleasure, hands combing through his dark locks.

“This won’t be gentle, I don’t know if I can be easy with you right now.”

“Are you warning me?”

Kankuro levels you with a look. “It’s been a while, babe.”

You trail your gaze over him from his head to his toes, lingering where his hand was working his length. “I think I’ll be okay. I know how to handle you. Always have.”

You run a thumb over the tip, smearing the precum. Your nails nip at his sensitive skin and he shivers. You fall back against the bed watching as he climbs over you. His dick nudges the soaked folds of your cunt.

“Come on Kuro,” you say softly, arching your back to lift your hips. “Ruin me, I want it.”

And you know he wants to.

“You’re too good to me,” his voice is thick with want.

Slowly he sinks into you. He’s too big. Fuck, he’s so big. The head of his cock snags at your entrance, causing him to start over. You breathe in nice and slow, relaxing yourself with every slow thrust he makes until he’s at the hilt.

“Holy fuck,” You hiss as he sits snug. You need a moment.

With a deep breath you nod, giving him permission and he’s taking it, demanding more–needing more the second he feels the tight velvet of your sex.

“Kankuro,” you moan, nails digging into his shoulders.

He nods. He knows you need this as much as he does. You're clinging to him, hands tugging at his hair, cunt clenching around him like he’d slip free at any moment. His thrusts are deep, building a slow burn inside of you. Your toes curl because it’s just the beginning. You arch your back, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts. You hit a good rhythm, letting yourself breathe, relax, and suck him in deeper. You’re almost where he wants you. Kankuro looks at you and your heart flips in your chest. It’s like he’s truly looking at you for the first time. He’s looking at you like he’s in love. You clench around him and he groans. He thrusts a little harder than before, causing your head to fall back.

“Eyes on me,” You whimper and open your eyes. “Eyes on me, baby.”

You watch each other, a breath apart as you circle your hips. You’re waiting for him to break. Any second now. He muffles out curses, a hand trailing up and wrapping around your neck. The action has your eyes rolling back before you snap them open. Your walls flutter around him, and his grip tightens. A knowing looking glinting in his eye. You flex your cunt, lower muscles bearing down as you grip him. He groans, the sound erupting in the silent room.

There’s pleasure coiling behind your pussy. “Kankuro, fuck,”

“What is it?”

“Fuck me,” You whine, pulling on his hair. “Please, baby, please. I need it.”

His gaze drops from your face to where he’s burying himself in your tight cunt. He nods before lifting his eyes. “Alright, alright.”

You flash him a grin and he jolts, his cock twitching deep. You cling to him, desperate and a little dizzy. You can’t remember the last time it was ever like this. Swallowing, you know that’s a lie. It’s always been him. He’s so big and you’re so fucking full. He fills you to the brim, cock dragging against your walls.

He's finally picked up his rhythm. Hammering into you, each deep stroke better than the last. Your orgasm takes you by surprise. You lurch against him when you moan. You melt, boneless, like jelly. You’re loose and wet and fucking perfect. His nose presses into your cheek as he grinds into you.

“Fuck, puppet. Missed the feeling of you on my cock.”

You snort, pulling yourself closer to him. Guttural grunts and low growls meet your ear. Heavy breaths that bounce around the empty room. It’s a brutal taking, and you are not wet enough. Tears pool in your eyes, threatening to fall with every harsh thrust. You take what you're given, no complaints. Kankuro readjusts, moving you to where you are firmly planted on his thighs, giving him a better angle. You’re bouncing with each thrust from his cock now. He’s deep, so deep you can see the bulge of him in your tummy. You pull his hair, grinning when he hisses.

“You got one more for me?”

He knows you can’t talk. He knows you’re fucked out, gone stupid on his cock. Just like he said he would. He loves when you get like this. He loves it even more because you asked for it. You move, opening up your legs a little wider. He groans feeling himself sink deeper into you. You’re puffy and raw and you’re living for it. Nodding, his name falls from your lips.

It builds and builds and builds until it has nowhere to go. It roars forward, jolting you, a scream ripped from your throat and your nails digging into him so hard you can feel when he starts to bleed. Kankuro is there. He holds you into place, lips grazing your cheek. He fucks you through it all, jamming himself into your searing overstimulated sex, he meets his end. His grip tightens, a low gravel filled groan comes from deep in his chest, filling you up. You feel the drag of his necklace when he lifts his head to trail kisses across your sweaty skin.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, breaking the silence.

You pull him on top of you, hugging him tightly to you. You bask in the feel of him. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been missing him until you were drunk off of him. You’re aching and sore but you refuse to move away from him. His eyes are still dark and heavy-lidded as he regards you.

“Keep me in there,” he tells you and you just smile.

“Always.” You hum, scratching his head with your nails. “Missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. Always miss you.”

You swallow suddenly feeling shy. Kankuro pulls himself up, pushing loose strands of hair out of your face. He looks at you, really looks at you. Eyes roaming all over your face. He doesn’t miss a thing, never has. He knows you like the back of his hand.

“What is it?”

“Six months, Kuro. Six months of nothing from you. Then I come home to a leech on your arm.”

Even after he’s fucked you silly your feelings are hurt. Almost like a bratty little kid that didn’t get what you wanted. It didn’t matter that you had a point. He had all the time in the world to tell you he missed you, but he waited until you were right on the verge of giving up. He may be a master of puppets, but you don’t like being played with.

“You’re right. I should’ve made you a priority. I’m sorry.”

It’s not what you want, but for now, it’ll be good enough.

[twistedchatterbox]

you > work

“summary: how would they act around you during work? ft.Azul and Floyd (seperately) tags. GN Reader, Fluff, This is basically my first ever “fic” reformatted, No Spoilers, yes I am biased as fuck mind your business, the fish mafia acts like an actual fish mafia, loveels, domestic Azul, Floyd is a lover for you and a danger for literally everything else, Jade makes a cameo, the fish are all so lovesick oh my god, no beta we overblot like men; i am kinda busy atm so please just accept these crumbs while i work on many things at once lol,, enjoy.

Wordcount; 700+ | Masterlist & Taglist

They’ll treat you the way they always have; adoringly and lovingly. As unpredictable as they can be, for you, they’re simply smitten. Lovesick fish. It’s adorable, really. The way... The way Azul’s eyes light up into a look of excitement upon seeing your contact light up on the screen of his phone would have been contagious.. had his witnesses not been thoroughly terrified and possibly beaten out of their wits to even think or consider commenting on it. He quickly gathers himself, though, and asks his clients if they’d mind waiting a moment as he casts a spell; pointing his pen and channeling the spell directly against their throat, effectively ridding the poor unfortunate souls of their voices.  Elegantly rising up from his chair in a well-practiced manner, he grabs his phone and heads towards privacy, where his own voice turns sweeter than honey as it fills to the gills with affection for you. Azul chuckles as he whispers a “Hi”, sighing as your voice brought him the fresh breather he’s yearned for all day. “Hi darling, has everything been alright?” he asks, softening with not only his voice but his smile as it turns genuine for you; which only intensifies as you explain you just called him to ask what he’d like for dinner, since you remembered the two of you forgot to assign kitchen duty today and you arrived home early. Azul’s eyes crinkle and he finds himself indulging in a closed-eyed smile, fondly shaking his head as if you could see it. “Ah, is that so?” Azul teases with no edge to his tone, “You just wanted to ask me what I’d like for dinner? My, my, aren’t you so benevolent today~?” he playfully murmurs, enjoying himself. But he can’t take too much time, since he does have a real answer for you. Sighing, he says so, “You truly are the sweetest thing...Can you please make my favourites today?”, feeling proud of himself when you pick up on it and ask if today has been exceptional, nodding as if you could tell. Azul feels sad that the call cannot last forever, yet he knows a way to remedy it so he gently murmurs his response, “Yes, today was great, thank you darling, i’ll see you at home. I love you.” Feeling more refreshed than ever compared to earlier, Azul re-corrects his posture and draws a breather, determined to quickly finish his leftover work early so that he can join as you soon as possible. Plus, getting home early and being able to wrap his arms around you while you navigated the kitchen just sounded perfect.

Now, visiting Floyd during work was Russian roulette with all chambers rigged for most people, meanwhile you could only describe it as a game of hide and seek. To say he adored you and was biased for you is an understatement.  Wearing a warm, fluffy on the inside winter coat, you walked alongside Jade as you neared the place Floyd was supposed to be at around this time- according to Jade, at least. And today, that hunch seemed correct. In your sights was Floyd Leech in the flesh, humming a cheerful tune as he dragged a trash bag alongside the floor with a carefree smile that turned strained whenever the contents seemed to move around- or at least tried to. The way Floyd’s entire figure is engulfed in an excited and thrilled way is a familiar and endearing sight to you; making you smile when he notices you in the middle of his previously assigned task, looking directly at you as soon as you entered his line of sight. Smiling from eye to eye, unable to suppress the trill of sheer joy your surprise visit brought him. You couldn’t help but notice how his clothes were clean as of now, which meant- “Shrimpyy~~!! Gimme a hug~!” Floyd’s laughs with a lovestruck grin, showcasing his sharp, white teeth as he opens his arms for you. And his smile only grew happier as you ran upto him, jumping into his ready arms; he hugs you securely as he twirls you around- he has always been so careful of his strength when it came to you, protective of you, far more gentle towards you than anyone else has been, or ever cared to be. And as his right foot pressed down cruelly onto the tie of the suspicious body bag that finally stopped squirming, the none-existent audience was his witness. This gentleness would only ever be reserved for you.

[tangledinink]

whoa, i wrote a thing. the first chapter of my tmnt "sorry, teenage mutant what now?" au is live on ao3, or can be read below the cut!!! complete with sketchy title card and dumb chapter title. do i have any real experience writing fics??? no!!! am i gonna do my best anyway!?!? yes i am!!!

“Did you drink all the milk AGAIN!? Dude!—"

“What?! You know I need an exact milk-to-rice-chex ratio in order to enjoy my breakfast, Leo!”

“Have any of you seen my dance bag? It’s not where I left it!”

“Why do you need it, anyway? Isn’t dance on Thursday?”

“Leo, today is Thursday.”

“What? No, it’s not. If it was Thursday, then my American Literature essay would be due, and I haven’t even started it yet, so there’s NO WAY—“

“If my toaster is destroyed, I will be making whichever child is responsible pay for the replacement!” The warning rang out over the general chaos of the morning.

“Oh shoot—“ Yoshi could hear the frantic scrabble of a belated attempt to rescue the burning pop tart, which Yoshi could smell from all the way in the living room. Parked in his reclining chair, the TV playing in front of him, he munched contentedly on his own breakfast which he had acquired earlier before his teenage sons descended upon the kitchen. He was not much of a ‘morning person,’ but it was a necessity if he was to eat in any sort of peace in the mornings.

This was a typical morning in the Hamato household.

Yoshi was used to it by now. The bickering, the bumbling, the hectic last-minute "wait I forgot something's--" it was all just a part of the routine. Sure, it had been a bit exhausting at times when they were all still children, and he had to scramble about like a madman each morning to ensure they had everything they needed to get where they were going. But at this point? He could more or less just ignore them and allow them to work things out by themselves, only occasionally needing to step in and offer a bit of guidance. He had always been a bit of a... Hands-off parent, for better or for worse, but he was fairly certain that he had finally found the rhythm of things over the past several years. Not that that made him a perfect parent by any means, there had certainly been plenty of occasions--

"APRIIIIILLLLLL O'NEIL!!!" The battle cry and hearty thud of his poor front door put a sudden end to his narration, and, though it happened near every day, he startled in response, just barely avoiding dropping his tea.

"April!" He bellowed from his chair, turning just enough to peer into the kitchen, where his honorary fifth child (as if he needed any more…) and next-door neighbor had just appeared. "How many times must I tell you?! If you break my door, I will--!"

"Aw, c'mon, Yosh, you know I gotta make a bold entrance at the start of the morning, or my mojo is gonna be off for the whole rest of the day! Besides, I haven't broken the door yet, and it's been how many years?"

“Bah! Haven't broken my door yet, maybe, but what about my bed frame? Or my printer? Or my third-favorite koi fish figurine?!"

"Oh, you wanna play that game now?" O'Neil countered, narrowing his eyes behind scarlet frames, crossing her arms across her chest and cocking one hip to the side. "Okay, then, how about my window? Or my mom's antique vase? Or my literal entire bathroom--"

"Okay! Okay, enough!" Yoshi spluttered with a dismissive wave of his hands. Dammit. The fact he was technically responsible for his sons’ occasional partaking in light property destruction was still, in his opinion, the most unfair and annoying part of parenting. "Fine! Break down the door for all I care! Burn the entire place to the ground! See if I do anything about it! Teenagers..." He muttered with a scowl, shaking his head and returning to his program, an exaggerated scowl on his face. The kids, to their credit, knew well enough by now not to take his rants and mumblings too seriously and quickly re-engaged themselves in whatever gossip and chatter they had previously been wrapped up in.

Yoshi smiled just the tiniest bit, listening with one ear as Donatello explained to a devastated Leonardo that it was, in fact, Thursday, bringing up evidence on his cell phone, and Raphael and April pulled Mikey's dance bag out from inside the oven, where he had forgotten it for the third time this past month.

This was not where he had imagined his life would take him when he was young. Not even close.

He would not trade these moments for anything at all.

By the time his television show was ending, he was just finishing off his tea and shoveling the rest of his bagel into his mouth. Game shows, he had found years ago, were an excellent means of timing routines, and he had it to a science by now. He pulled himself to his feet, stretching and cracking his back loud enough that his children yelled at him from the kitchen, before shuffling his way into the kitchen to begin the work of chasing the teenagers out the door.

"Alright, come on, shoo shoo! You are all going to miss the subway and be late!" He scolded, occasionally swatting at a stray child with his sleeves. "And do not forget anything, because I will not bring it to you!"

"Dad--" Leo began, his eyes blown up huge and pleading. "I don't feel well, I'm pretty sure I've got, like, a tummy bug, or something? Sooo, I should, like, probably stay home--"

"You are not skipping school just because you forgot to do an assignment." Yoshi immediately responded.

"What?! Noooo, Daddy, please, I'm really sick!"

"I was not born yesterday." He scoffed, shooting his son an unimpressed look. "And I have seen you do assignments in far less time! Besides, I'm sure April and your brothers would be happy to help."

A chorus of groans rang from around the table.

“Enough bellyaching! Come on, out of my house! Let's go, chop chop! Anyone who stays home today will be giving me a pedicure!”

That threat always worked. On cue, everyone fell into action. The boys gulped down any remaining breakfast still left uneaten, (whether it was theirs or not,) in between conversations, TikTok videos, and, in Leo's case, loud mourning about the day of the week. Donatello began to long process of buckling up the seventeen different straps on his chunky boots, Michaelangelo passed out lunches to each of his family members, narrating his culinary decisions as he went, and Raphael hurriedly tossed bowls, spoons, and plates into the dishwasher with clatters and clunks.

"I can't find my eyeliner pen-- Nardo, did you steal it? Did you go through my bag?! You DID, didn’t you!!! I am going to delete all of your Minecraft save files--"

"What?! I cannot believe you would make such an accusation, I would never stop to such petty thievery--"

"Mikey, hurry up and grab your skateboard if you're gonna--"

"OW, Dad, Donnie pulled my hair!"

"Oh, what are you, five?"

"HEY, both of you knock it off because Raph makes ya!”

"Wait, did we have a quiz in geometry today--? Because I did not study!!! Raph, this note had better be a joke--!"

After a few final moments of mayhem, Yoshi finally managed to get all five high schoolers out the door, closing the door firmly behind them with a loud sigh.

He loved his children. Truly, he did. But thank god for school.

Grumbling a bit to himself, he got to work straightening the remaining mess left behind. His sons were more than old enough to clean up after themselves and help out around the house, but that still didn't necessarily mean they did it particularly well. Maybe by their late twenties, they'd start to figure that out, if they were anything like their father. He swept up spare crumbs and wiped down the table, putting cereal boxes away in the pantry where they belonged and closing cabinet doors left open.

Boys.

Truthfully, he had very little room to complain and he knew it. Compared to the first four years of parenthood, things were a breeze. Sure, there was still plenty of work to do, but aside from the occasional exhausting day or difficult conversation, he could practically just put things on autopilot by now. He could hardly imagine how his younger self used to get through each day.

Well, perhaps he could, because, if he was being completely honest, he didn't really "get through" most days back then as much as he was bodily dragged in and out of them. But he had realized long ago that lingering on his past shortcomings was not in anyone's best interest.

With school, extracurriculars, friends and neighbors, babysitters, and a shit-ton of parenting classes on his side now, in addition to the general concept of the passage of time, given that his children were no longer children and now teenagers, he had at his disposal something that he had not had even a scrap of for years before "the move."

Free time.

It had been nearly ten years since "the move." Ten years since he and his sons had donned these disguises and bodily forced their way back into society on the back of lies and forged paperwork. Or, well, he had forced his way back into society. His children were just along for the ride-- and new to it all.

Not that you would be able to tell now, he thought to himself, smiling ever so slightly. Ten years… They had lived this way for a long time now.

It had been so long… Some days, he nearly forgot that he was anything but a man.

--------

"Donnie, here, it's your turn."

Donatello sighed loudly, pausing in whatever he was doing on his phone, (Scrolling through Twitter? Purchasing uranium off the dark web? They were equally likely,) but accepting the laptop shoved into his hands anyway.

"Why am I getting the impression that my turns are longer than everyone else's?" He questioned, his brows pinched with gentle annoyance as he glanced at the other four, all piled together on the subway. There wasn’t enough space for all of them, but even finding a couple of open seats was a near miracle this time of day, so they could make do. Stacking Mikey on Raph's shoulders and denying Leo a place to sit, seeing how it was his American Literature essay that they were taking turns writing, did the trick.

"Because you're the smart one," Leo said, his arms wrapped around the nearest subway pole, leaning so he could read over their shoulder. "This is the consequence of referring to yourself as a 'genius' all the time."

"I'm pretty sure I've always made it very clear that I'm a man of science, not literature." Donnie quipped in reply, even as he hunched over the screen, his fingers tick-tacking across the keys.

"Hey, I'm helping too! That whole third paragraph is mostly me." April protested, crossing her arms and slumping against Donnie, purposefully jostling them a bit in retaliation.

"Me too!" Mikey chirped from atop his brother's shoulders, slumped forward to avoid smacking his head on the roof. "I changed all the punctuation to fourteen-point font to make it longer!”

"Smart." Donnie hummed, not looking up, in such a tone that it wasn't quite clear if he meant it or not. Mikey beamed at the praise nonetheless, a bright grin lighting up his face as he crossed his arms over his brother's forehead.

"Look, it doesn't have to be good. It's just gotta be three pages before third period." Leo said. "I mean, Donnie could also always just hack into the school's gr—“

"Hey!" Raph barked. "We all agreed that that was for emergencies only!"

"Okay, okay, fine!" Leo sighed, a bit of sulkiness saturating his voice, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He reluctantly accepted the laptop when it was passed back over to him, propping up a knee to balance it on and hunching over to type.

"I thought Mikey set up that whole system with you. With the reminders and that agenda app and everything?" April questioned, glancing up at Leo curiously-- perhaps suspiciously.

"He did. I've just been..." He paused, hesitating in his words for just a second. "Busy."

"Oh no." April groaned.

"Not again." Donnie sighed.

"Who is it this time?" Raph asked, quirking a brow.

"What! I have noooo idea what you guys are talking about--"

"Leo."

"Okay, fine. Chase DeFerro." Leo muttered, his eyes immediately flicking to the side to avoid the inevitable reactions of his family.

"Chase DeFerro?"

"The same Chase DeFerro from five months ago?"

"Didn't you two have, like, a horrible break-up?"

"Didn't you block him on, like… Everything?"

"Didn't you say, and I quote, "If I ever have to even see that nasty bitch again in my entire life, it'll be too soon, and I swear to god I'll chop off--"

"Okay, okay! Hey, come on! That was five months ago. Things are, like, totalllyyyy different now!" Leo insisted.

“You said that about the last, like, three guys you’ve dated,” April said, unimpressed.

"Leo, have you ever stopped to consider that, perhaps, your need to constantly be in some kind of a relationship may have some kind of deeper connection to your own feelings of self-worth and the way that you assign value to--"

"Whoa there, Doctor Feelings! Chill! It's not that deep!" Leo scoffed, shooting Mikey an annoyed look. Ugh, he knew he shouldn't have brought it up. "Seriously. I'm just bored, okay? Quit trying to read into it."

"Bored?" Raph echoed, looking at the other with big eyes. "Leo, you can't treat love like it's a game like that! Come on!"

"It's not love, Raph, it's high school dating." Leo scoffed, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “Anyway! Look, I'm only, like, fifty words short and then I'm home free. Who's got the next turn?"

"Fine." April sighed, rolling her eyes. “Only because your girl here writes a killer BS essay conclusion. But you owe me. Hand it over."

True to her word, the last-minute literature assignment was wrapped up shortly, and the remainder of the train ride was instead occupied by chatter and gossip, discussing upcoming tests and assignments in school, rumors circulating the hallways, and plans for weekends and far-off holidays. On the occasion it got too loud to hear each other properly, they’d sign to each other instead, and then switch back once it quieted down once more. The five scrambled their way off the subway when they arrived at their stop, making their way up the stairs and back to street level.

Leo inhaled deeply as he hopped up the final few stairs, his sneakers giving a satisfying thud on the concrete below them with each step. He had no complaints about the subway, (well, no more than the average person, anyway,) but there was always just something especially refreshing about getting to breathe fresh air after spending any amount of time underground. Even if the fresh air was New York City air. Call him crazy, but he'd never get tired of it.

The group began the final length of their journey, closing the three-block gap between the subway station and their high school-- most of them on foot, Mikey on his skateboard, though he was less skateboarding and more standing on his skateboard and hanging onto the back of Raph's shirt so his older brother would drag him along. Leo wondered absently if he could get away with that, too, before April's voice finally snapped him back into reality.

"You busy after school today?"

"Until six!" He replied, stretching his arms back to lace his fingers behind his head as they walked. "Dee and I have gymnastics."

“Next competition is tomorrow.” Donnie hummed, not looking up from his phone. "So we're getting in the extra hours."

"You know we've got a rep to uphold!" Leo sing-songed, his mouth stretching into a wide, smug grin. "Gotta keep that flawless record for the rest of the season."

It was very well known, to anyone who ran in such circles, that the Hamato Twins were all but sure to take the top two places in any gymnastics meet that they showed up to-- it was just a question of in what order they would do so. Of all the various sports that they participated in, gymnastics was just about the only one where it was truly a coin flip. The only other two extracurriculars they shared were swimming, where Donnie consistently took first place, and martial arts, where they both knew Leo was more likely to come out on top. But gymnastics? It was anybody's guess, and they flip-flopped from first to second just about every other event. For just a moment, Leo caught his twin's eye-- coz he knew he was thinking the exact same thing right now.

Coz he knew they both wanted to win.

Coz they both wanted to rub it in the other's face.

(Of course, they both also knew that the only reason they got to have this little song-and-dance to begin with was because Mikey was still in the age bracket below them. Wouldn't everyone be just so delighted to finally see the Hamato Twins usurped in the coming season... By another Hamato.)

“And Raph has work… Ugh! Y’all are too damn busy!” April huffed, leaning her head back and wrinkling up her nose.

“I’ve got a little bit of time.” Mikey chimed in, leaning over just enough to offer April a grin. “I don’t gotta be at dance until four. I was gonna go work on that mural I’ve got going up north. Wanna come?”

“Beats sitting at home doing homework.” April reasoned, giving a shrug. “I’m in!”

“Shweet!”

Leo smiled a tiny bit. Though he did, in fact, have complete confidence in his little brother’s ability to traverse the city safely, it was still kind of nice to know he’d be with someone else. If, for no other reason, then to know that Raph would now worry about Mikey at least 80% less during the coming evening.

“Alright,” Speaking of worrisome older brothers, Raph began his typical pre-school speech as they approached the front entrance. “No one be late. No one skip class.” Who, him? What was that pointed look for? He would never… Get caught more than once in a week. “And no one get in any trouble. Don’t do anything Raph wouldn’t do.”

“Yes sir!” The four of them barked in reply as they approached the entrance of their high school. Mostly, they were all just making fun of him. But Leo figured humoring him wouldn’t hurt, especially if it helped him chill a little bit. Raph had always taken his role as “the biggest brother” pretty seriously, ever since they were really little, though Leo wasn’t exactly sure why. He was always the one in charge whenever their dad wasn’t around, and Leo suspected he had a hard time ever completely dropping that mindset.

I mean, don’t get him wrong, Raph was just as capable of fucking around, goofing off, and getting into shit as the rest of them, for sure, he just sometimes wished he could… Relax a little. It wasn’t like anything bad was gonna happen, but Raph always kind of just had this air to him like he was expecting enemies to leap out from behind the corner and attack them at any moment. Like he always had to protect them all. Which Leo could get, sure, but, like… Wouldn’t it be kind of cool if someone did try to start some shit with them or something, just so that they could see the look on their face when they totally kicked their ass? Leo could only imagine it’d be pretty hilarious.

The five of them went their separate ways, parting with various promises to see each other at lunch, after school, at home, etc. April and Raph went one way, Mikey went another, and Leo and Donnie split off in a different direction still, heading towards the East Wing.

And as they cleared the corner, Leo whipped around to face Donnie, stabbing them in the side with a spare elbow. “Last one to homeroom gets second place at gymnastics tomorrow!” He declared, immediately taking off down the hall.

“Wha— Leo! This is unfair, I’m wearing platforms! You know I’m wearing platforms!” Donnie shrieked in protest, even as he broke into a run behind him.

Leo whooped in reply, throwing himself over the railing of the nearest staircase, knowing his twin brother was right on his tail.

-----

“Come on! Harder!!! SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!” Raphael roared, pumping a fist in the air. “LET’S GO! GIVE IT TO ME!”

The gaggle of six-year-olds in the water in front of him, all clinging to the pool wall, giggled loudly in response to his over-the-top encouragement, kicking their legs even harder in a flurry of limbs and dousing him in chlorinated water.

“Whoa, whoa, okay! You gave it to me! I surrender!” Raph chuckled, holding his hands up to shield himself. “Alright, alright. Good job, team! You did great today. Okay, let’s wrap up—“

“Raph! RAPH!”

“What?”

“Raph, we gotta do the ferry!” Penelope, the loudest of his students, insisted, her face all screwed up with determination. The other four children nodded along fervently. “We can’t get out until we do ferry!”

“Oh, RIGHT. Ferry. Sorry, Raph almost forgot!” He chuckled, thunking his own forehead with the butt of his palm, feigning forgetfulness, as if he hadn’t always intended to do their usual wrap-up game. Class ended with a game of “Ferry” every time, without fail, especially given that he touted it as the ‘reward’ that they had to work for each week by following directions and working hard. He shifted slightly in the water, turning his back on the kids still clinging to the wall. “Okay— hop aboard”

The five elementary schoolers squealed in delight, launching themselves off the pool wall to clamber over the teenager instead, climbing over his broad shoulders and hanging off of his arms. Raph gave a soft little ‘oof,’ at the impact, though it was mostly for show, snorting softly in amusement as Penelope all but climbed on top of his head. Reminded him of Mikey.

“Okay— GO!” She shouted once she was sure all her cohorts were fully boarded, the whole group buzzing with excitement despite the fact that they did this every week. Raph gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, slowly setting off on their lap around the pool. In the shallower end, where they started, he didn’t even really have to swim at all— He could just walk with his body lowered enough in the water to give the illusion of swimming. Or, more precisely, the illusion of ‘ferrying.’

“Welcome everybody to Penelope’s Ferry Ride. I’m Penelope, the tour girl. Over there’s the Empire State Building.” Penelope narrated happily from her perch, gesturing to the bleachers. “And over there is the Statue of Liberty.” The pool noodles. “And over there’s the Milky Way. And that’s the, uhhh, the Big Bridge…”

“Wait, how long’s this ferry ride? Raph didn’t sign up for no world tour!” Raph protested teasingly, to which Penelope sharply shushed him before continuing her narration. The other children bubbled with laughter at her increasingly ridiculous tourist attractions and descriptions. Reminded him of Leo and Donnie.

Raph chuckled softly to himself as he moved into the deeper end of the pool, transitioning into an easy breaststroke to keep them all afloat on their way. It was, admittedly, a bit more difficult to swim with five kids on his back than it was on his own, but Raph was a strong swimmer. This was no problem. Besides, it’s not like he was in a rush or anything.

Honestly? This was his favorite part of these lessons. No worrying about everyone paying attention or being involved. No worries about anyone wandering off when he had them all on top of him and undoubtedly accounted for. No stressing about remembering the lesson plan or rules… He could just swim. He knew it sounded dumb, but sometimes, with all the kids piled on top of him like this, he felt like some sort of big plodding swamp creature, floating lazily down the river with the world on his back.

He took his time about it, but he eventually made his full lap around the pool, coming to a stop by the stairs and gently chasing the kids off of his shoulders.

“Alright, come on, squirts. Ferry ride’s over.”

“Nooo!” Penelope whined, clinging to his head. “One more lap! PLEASEEE!”

“Hey, come on, you know the rules! If you don’t listen to Raph, you don’t get a ferry ride next week!” He warned, slowly peeling her off of his back. “Go on. Get outta here.” He insisted, though fondly, smiling a bit as she huffed and scowled… But she got out anyway, joining the rest of the kids running to their parents, all with towels in waiting arms, listening to the children excitedly chatter about what they learned today.

Raph smiled just the tiniest bit. He remembered when they had been that small, taking swim classes here. He, Donnie, and Leo had all been thrilled to take to the water, adoring each and every lesson.

They all loved it— Except Mikey. He recalled listening to his littlest brother scream bloody murder as their father attempted to coax him into the water, trying everything from reason to bribes to threats of consequences.

“You don’t need to like to swim, Michelangelo. But you need to be able to.” He remembered his father saying. “I need to be sure you will be safe if you ever end up in the water by yourself.”

If anyone asked, he’d tell ‘em that he took the job just to make some extra pocket money. But, at least a little bit, that was kinda why. He liked the idea of helping to keep people safe. Even if it was just teaching kids how to doggy paddle.

Doing all the small talk at the end of the lessons with the parents was definitely his least favorite part, however, and he always found himself kind of stammering and stuttering his way through it. After some short, “Oh, yeah, she’s doin’ great!” and “For sure, perfect behavior’s!” tossed at some parents, he was, thankfully, able to duck away into the office, his own towel flung over his shoulders to try to avoid tracking water everywhere.

“All done?” The office receptionist, Jessica, chirped in her usual friendly demeanor, glancing over at the other as he entered.

“Just about. I just gotta clean up as soon as the kids are all gone and we’ll be done.” He replied, ruffling his hair dry.

“Did you remind the parents that we’re closed next week?”

Raph froze.

“… Uhhhh…”

Jessica sighed a bit, glancing over her shoulder to give him a look. “I reminded you before the lesson started!”

“I know! I just— Raph forgot, okay? I can only hold so much stuff in my brain at one time before stuff just starts to fall out! I was thinkin’ about swimming stuff!” He defended. “‘Sides, it was your job to remind me to remind them! So obviously we both dropped the ball.” Jessica didn’t look quite convinced, but Raph was pretty sure his logic was solid. “Can’t we just, like, put up some flyers and send out an email and all that junk?”

Rolling her eyes, Jessica turned back to her computer and began to type. “Yeah, yeah… Can’t really do flyers, but I’m working on that email.”

“Why not? Just put a sign up on the door.”

Jessica looked over at him again, raising a brow. “You haven’t heard about the paper shortage?”

Raph blinked slowly.

“… The what.”

“Yeah! It’s a whole thing. I dunno, I guess there are, like… Paper thieves or whatever robbing all the paper stores and stuff in the city? We haven’t been able to get any new orders in for a few weeks now.” She explained.

“Paper thieves?” He echoed, incredulous. “And they... steal paper.”

“Yeah. They steal paper.”

“Who the heck steals paper?”

“I dunno! I just saw it on the news.” Jessica shrugged. “I guess the police are working on it or whatever.”

“I guess.” Raph said, shrugging a bit, though he still couldn’t help but find the whole thing a bit amusing. I mean, come on. Paper thieves? It was only paper. -------

"Dadddd!" Mikey called as he swung his way into the door, kicking his shoes off into the general direction of the pile where shoes were typically kept, tossing his duffle bag to the side. He'd come back for it later and put it away, he swears. "I'M HOMMMEEE!"

It had been a long day, in between school, painting, and dance practice, so it was almost nine by the time he got home, but he didn't really mind. He liked being busy! If he didn't have stuff to do, it was just, like, all the energy would build up and up and up in all his limbs and his body and his chest like something sticky and hot about to boil over, condensation gathering at the top of his skull, and then he just went kinda crazy. That makes sense, right? He was pretty sure his brothers were kinda like that, too, so he figured it was probably mostly normal. He sometimes wondered if that was why their dad let them sign up for so many after-school activities. The only downside was the limited time leftover to tackle homework and personal projects. Walls weren’t just gonna paint themselves, after all!

"What's for dinner?" He shouted across the house, shucking his backup off and beginning to unpack, collecting his various textbooks and notepads.

"Oh, since you were not home, Michelangelo, I have had no choice but to cook for our family--"

"Dad."

"But do not worry, my son, I am making the most delicious meal--"

"Dad."

"Boiled liver and onions! You boys' favorite! With chopped earthworms, yum yum yum!"

"DAD! You're not funny!" Mikey yelled, even though there was laughter in his voice. Their dad did this bit every time, and he hated how it was always kinda funny.

"Pizza is on the table." His father called back, and Mikey let out an excited cheer.

"YEAH BABY! That's what I was hoping you'd say!" He shouted, hopping up to his feet and beelining it to the kitchen. His brothers had clearly already done a round, based on the empty boxes and missing slices, but he knew they wouldn't dare leave him without his fair share. That's youngest child privilege. They knew damn well that he’d cry at them.

"How was school today, my son?" Dad always asked about school first and everything else second, every time.

"Id'was gooh'." Mikey mumbled, in between the pizza slice already hanging out of his mouth, piling several more slices onto his plate. "We're readin' th' O'ssey--"

"Orange, I cannot understand anything you are saying."

Mikey spit the half-chewed pizza slice back out onto the plate, which earned a really fun look from Dad, and he grinned.

"Sorry! We're reading the Odyssey in English class, which is fine, I guess, but it's kinda a lot to get through, so we're translating it to, like, real human words, annnndddd we gotta do a group project presentation thing, and I like all the people in the group project but you KNOOWWW how group projects are." He reported, rapid-fire, giving a dramatic sigh. "Oh! And I got my Algebra test back and I got! A seventy-nine!"

"Oh! Very good, Mikey. I am glad your studying paid off." His father replied with a small smile, and Mikey beamed. "And how was dance?"

"Awesome! I killed it, as per use'." Mikey said proudly, puffing out his chest a bit. "Miss Vega said that I just gotta tighten up my turns and I'll be all ready to destroy the competition next weekend!"

"Excellent. Good job, Orange." His dad said with a chuckle, patting Mikey's shoulder before making his way back into the living room, no doubt to reunite his butt with his beloved reclining chair and put on some TV series that no one else in the family appreciated. Mikey grabbed three more slices of pizza while his dad’s back was turned, and then scampered off, heading deeper into the apartment.

Considering they lived in New York City, they lived in a pretty spacious abode. Mikey couldn't remember a time in his life when there wasn't lots of room to stretch out and run and jump around. He remembered, back when he was really little, some of the hallways being big and long enough to even echo-- though he sometimes wondered if that had just been his imagination. Some of the stuff they would make up back then was pretty wild. Their dad had bought this big old brownstone apartment way back when they moved into Brooklyn, buying up the entire building so that they had all four floors, plus the basement, to themselves. Mikey recalled, vaguely, all the renovations that had gone into it when they first moved to New York, adjusting the fixer-upper into something where four very active children could be raised without feeling cramped. The building was tall and skinny, slotted neatly in with the rest of the city, and Mikey had always loved that. This meant it they had the perfect hallways for running back and forth through, and there was a surplus of staircases for him to slide down or jump over. The hardwood floors were perfect for both Tokyo Drifting and dance practice. They each had gotten their own rooms as they grew as well, with himself and Raph on the second floor, Leo and Donnie on the third, and their father taking the master bedroom on the ground level.

But the best bit was the basement. Lovingly dubbed "The Lair," their dad had designated it the hub for childhood shenanigans, (and now, teenage activity,) from the get-go, all but sacrificing the space to his sons from the moment they moved in. The house was technically his, sure, but the basement was theirs, like, for real for real. Arcade games and consoles lived down here, hooked up to the big TV on the wall and surrounded by beat-up beanbags. Raph's weight-lifting equipment was in that corner there, and Donnie's bigger, more mechanical projects were over there by the stairs, (with the yellow tape and the "do not touch" signs.") This big wide open space here with the mirrors on the walls and the punching bags mounted on the ceiling was perfect for both martial arts, acrobatics, and dance practice, depending on which kind of matting they laid out. And, best of all, the Lair was the one place in the house where their dad had reluctantly conceded that, yes, Mikey. You may paint on the walls.

The Lair was typically the best bet for finding any of his brothers, especially if they weren’t holed up in their rooms, and Mikey did think about heading down there, too… But, as very tempting as it was to hang out with brothers first and do math worksheets later was, he was pretty sure he could get through his homework in, like, thirty minutes, tops, and just get it all out of the way. Plus, this way, he didn't have to worry about anyone else making any grabs for his dinner.

With this in mind, he tromped his way up the stairs, nudging his sticker-adorned door open and dumping all his stuff on his desk, immediately shoving the previously-abandoned pizza slice back into his mouth again. He flipped open his textbooks, switched his speakers on to fill the space with some chill lofi beats to study to, and nudged his desk lamp awake as he settled in to get to work.

His workload had been pretty light recently, with way fewer teachers than usual handing out paper worksheets and questionnaires to bring home, so it didn't take him very long to get through all the assignments and readings. (Also, lowkey, it was times like these that he was, like, wow. Thank god for Adderall.) He was nearly done with the last of his work when he suddenly paused.

Dang. Artistic inspiration was truly a cruel but wondrous mistress. Okay, homework later. He scrambled for his phone, rewinding the song playing over the speakers. Ooh, yeah, okay-- That bass? Oh, hell yeah, this was really good! He could absolutely see the movement in his mind's eye-- he could picture the way the color swooped along with the beat and brightened along with the melody. Oh-- and what if he added some black outlines? What was the title of this song again...? Maybe he should look up the artist. He wondered if this would be better as a direct homage to the artist, (maybe the title up on a wall, in big curved block letters, yellows popping along the edges to pull it into the foreground, and that red in the center to sink it in--) or if this should be a more narrative piece. It made him think of that one movie that they watched two weekends ago-- with the spy and the watering can factory?! And this one line, about the lightning, he could just see the way he could paint a figure to answer that directly. Was it too ambitious to do a zig-zag line of action? Oh, but if he had the leg out like that...

He flipped the page of his notebook, his pencil skritching feverishly on the sheet as he moved to put these thumbnails into reality while they were still ticking through his mind in a slideshow. He paused only to command Spotify to play the song on repeat, his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes narrowed. Ohmigosh, yes! This would be perfect. He couldn't believe he had never thought of this before. This song had been on his playlist for how long? He had just kind of been spacing out until now, but suddenly, he was so excited about this project.

And it would be the perfect excuse to use those metallic spray paints he's been hoarding! He practically vibrated with excitement, thumbing the paper with a grin. Oh, that would look amazing. Just a bold streak of shimmery color, bursting out from the composition, like an explosion, he could see it so clearly--

Half a thought later, the spiral-bound notebook in front of him burst into flames.

[ next ]

[gallafics]

𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚌'𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠

Title: Paragraphs

Author: @palepinkgoat (Ao3)

Rating: Explicit Series: —

Chapters: 14/14 Word Count: 100.1 k

Archive Warnings: Warnings Not Used

Favorite Character: Its hard to not say Ian and Mickey because they’re both so amazing in this fic and they’re really the main focus—however I do really love a little side character named Rex and Lip is pretty cool in this one too! And I can’t forget Bill!

Least Favorite Character: Terry and he’s not even actively in this one but he’s definitely still my least favorite oh and Ian’s ex-boss, not a cool guy.

Ao3 Summary: Ian has an opportunity to be a reading tutor for ex-convicts. He meets one in particular that catches his eye. What begins as an attraction becomes more complicated with the weight of the past.

Spoiler Free Review: I ate this fic up in less than two days, when I tell you I’m obsessed…every now and then a fic comes along and you start reading and you just know it’s like this fic is now apart of your soul. I love it. It now has a permanent place on my comfort fic list. This is a different first meeting AU. There’s so much sweetness and fluff but be prepared and take care of yourself as this fic also deals with some heavier topics as well and the author does a great job at leaving notes about which chapter have the heavier themes. This fic is an amazing read, I highly suggest it, just know you’ll be adding it to your re-read list because it’s amazing!

Spoilers Below↓

Favorite Moment(s):

Ian and Mickeys entire first encounter.

Rex is honestly so funny, one of my fav side character in a fic!

“What’s complicated about getting your dick wet?” Rex squints at the numbers on the shelf. “You didn’t see him looking at you like you were a whole meal.”

Protective Mickey my beloved

“My stomach’s kind of messed up from getting punched,” Ian snaps. Mickey’s voice is rough. “You punched him? What the fuck for?” “He just startled me. It was a reflex.” “Blinking is a reflex. You don’t just punch someone in the stomach just because they surprise you.” Mickey stands up.

There’s the sweetest moment of Ian helping Mickey with reading and Mickey helping Ian with math!

Protective Mickey my beloved…again!

Ian shifts in his seat. “I guess,” he says. “I don’t know. I just had this weird run-in with this guy at the laundromat and then—” “What guy? What’d he do?” Mickey’s voice gets deeper. “He,” Ian says, and he takes a deep breath. “He recognized me. From when I worked at The Fairy Tail. And it was weird. So somehow I decided this was the next place on my list.” Mickey’s voice is small. “So you came to see me?” Ian doesn’t look away. “I think I did,” he says. His voice is clear. He means it. Mickey swipes his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

This part from Ian telling Mickey about his past!!

“You've been through a lot,” Mickey says, fingers wandering toward Ian’s palm. Ian realizes he’s been holding tight to the crumpled napkin. Mickey slowly pries the napkin from his hand and tosses it aside. Mickey’s hand slides so slowly into his that he can barely breathe.

I don’t know what to say about this one…I just love slutty gallavich

Ian presses him close. Harder. Tighter. “I bet you take it so good,” Ian whispers. Mickey’s mouth is slack, his eyes closed. “Yeah.” Ian cups his ass. God. His voice shakes. “Can you feel how big I am?” Mickey is panting, chest heaving against his. “So fucking big.” Ian lets Mickey’s tongue sweep into his mouth lazily, blissed out. Mickey’s eyes open slowly. “How big are you?” “Nine,” Ian whispers. Mickey moans, “Jesus fucking Christ.” “Too big?” Ian hopes not. It has been, before. Mickey shakes his head slowly. “That’s fucking perfect.”

I could literally list to so many moments in this fic but I’m begging you to just read it. You seriously will not be disappointed!!! Their first kiss, their first time being intimate, the first time they sleep together, all the moments in between and the journey that leads them through all of those phases!

Favorite Quote(s):

“You’re not.” Ian shakes his head. “This is only a chapter in your life. No. Wait. A chapter is too long. This is a paragraph.” “A paragraph?” “Yeah.” “The fuck’s a paragraph?” Ian stands up and hefts up his laundry, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“Come on, man. The only excitement in my life is my mom making me kielbasa and pierogies three times a week.” Ian tilts his head. “Three times a week? That seems like two times too many.” “Says you. You’ve never had my mom’s cooking.”

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Ian whispers against his lips. Mickey’s breath comes fast, but their lips stay slack and soft. “The taste of you.”

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. So patient. I want you, Mick.” “You got me.”

“Loved you a while,” Mickey says quietly, rising from the table. A small, almost embarrassed shrug. “Just didn’t know how to say it.”

Final thoughts: Ian and Mickey’s chemistry are written so well from the beginning. I felt it in that first moment they met, like little sparkles tingling in the air even if it was brief and not anything special. I also love when Ian is written having a good relationship with Lip and this fic definitely has them written so well together! Also having Mickey struggle with reading not just because he can’t but because he has a learning disability—as a fellow dyslexic I appreciate the representation. Then the call back to the show with Mickey being good at math! I love how they’re able to help each other with the things they struggle with.

Also the story telling around the issues Ian and Mickey both are dealing with is spectacular, they are both dealing with such complex traumas and it’s written in a way that you can really feel their emotions about it. There’s some small moments of angst, a whole lot of fluff and love and some of the hottest smut. It goes without saying I’m a huge fan of this fic, give it a read and I promise you’ll enjoy it. If you’ve already read it let’s squeal about it together!!

Thank you so much, pink_ink , for blessing us with this fic!!

— Harley, Gallafics Reviews