#and it tells me i’ve gotten a little bit better as an artist that not only could i recognize that but also fix it to said angle

[akkivee]

“lemme try some of that ichiro!!!!”

kuukou week day 2: food

[goldblumluv]

FIRST TIME HUGH REALISES HE IS ATTRACTED TO YOU

I’ve just finished Flawless and I just love a cowboy romance and a lot of what I’ve read it is grumpy x sunshine. This isn’t a cowboy Hugh story but I like the idea of like a forbidden romance / he shouldn’t like you (but he does) but he kind of acts out to pretend he doesn’t like you.

tags: female reader. Hugh’s POV. Angst. Slow burn. Confusion. Some fluff.

w/c: 4.5k

summary: you are a makeup artist on set of deadpool and wolverine. you’ve actually managed to get assistant head of makeup so you’re quite high up and you do work a lot on Hugh (and a little on Ryan) - instead of extras etc. you’re one month in so you’ve started to build a work relationship with Hugh but it’s starting to get flirtatious and the next level. Hughs POV (I love when books do this)

“More lube” Shawn shouts. She comes running over with a bottle in hand. I can see her cheeks flush pink as she touches me and her breaths become deeper. I must admit I didn’t take my eyes off her as she rubbed across my chest and down my stomach. Luckily, everyone is moving equipment to get ready for this scene, so it feels like it’s just us. She doesn’t even look at me once, so I know she’s avoiding my eye contact. She acts so confident back in the trailer but seeing how innocent she is right now is driving me crazy. Has she not touched a lot of men before? Why is she shying away? When she finishes she playfully slaps me right on the chest, but is giving me the eyes. “All done” she says with a devilish smile. Her back is turned before I could say something; she is giving Shawn the thumbs up to let her know she’s ready so I also throw up a thumbs up. I check her out one last time. As times got on her makeup has got less and her hair is a bit more carefree, and she’s only more beautiful for it. Plus it makes me feel good she’s obviously feeling more relaxed and comfortable. However today she is wearing a tight top plus tight jeans, which only highlight the curves of her body. I change the direction of my gaze quickly because I can feel an erection growing.

After filming, we go back to the trailer. I hardly speak to her. I don’t want to. This is the first time it’s gone from puppy love to Oh, I want to have sex with you. I want to see what you look like naked. And I can’t be having these thoughts for oh so many reasons. We work together. She is younger than half my age. My divorce hasn’t even gone public yet. Can you imagine I’m seen with a 25 year old before the divorce has gotten public? We start walking together whilst she’s telling me how good the shooting went, asking if I hurt. She’s caring and reassuring. She quickly gets out of her phone and picks up her pace whilst I stay trailing behind. Part of me knows she’s doing it cause she feels awkward at my lack of response but her walking ahead, is not helping my cause right now. It’s just us in the trailer. It’s the end of the shoot, so she’s just taking everything off me. The dirt, the lube, the eyebrow gel that colours in the greys in my beard that are probably… no… are older than her. She steps back, “what’s up? you’re being off” “I’m just tired” “hm” She carries on her job. I’m lying through my teeth. The radio is filling the silence between us. I can tell from that murmur she’s defensive straight away, not believing me. “Do you want to get food?” I feel my dick twitch. Is she asking me out? “I think I’m just going go back to the hotel” She is asking me out and I deny her which I hate. “You might feel better if you eat” persuasive. “Honestly I’ll be better tomorrow, I’ve just hit my wall”

I usually help her tidy up at the end of the day. I still do this. If I don’t I know she will be on my back, hurt, upset or confused. “You can go, if you want, I don’t mind” “No it’s fine, you’ll be able to leave quicker if I help” Even though I do have a crush on her like a 16 year old boy that’s just got his first dose of testosterone, I am still 56 and need to act like it. I know how she organises everything. We leave together. We’re staying in the same hotel but how you imagine, me and Ryan and Shawn are up top whilst she’s lower down. Which I believe isn’t fair. I don’t need the biggest room. We take the elevator and when it reaches her floor she fist bumps me, almost like she’s a 16 year old boy as well. I wonder if she feels the same? How do you know? How you do know especially when the girl very obviously does not know how to talk to men?

After a few hours she texts me. This is normal routine again. It won’t be a full conversation, considering we see each other in person nearly every day, so you might as well save the conversation for in person. It’s usually along the lines of she’s listening to a song I’ve recommended or a film I’ve spoke about. And to be honest, I do the same back. I really want to know what inspires her. She texts me a photo of her out for dinner, with a man’s hands. I immediately heat up with jealousy. Who the fuck is that? I’m trying to think of seeing her day to day speaking to any men, there’s a couple on her team. She speaks to Ryan and Shawn. I know she’s spoken to lighting and cinematography and the camera men when she’s asking for their opinions on how it looks. But does she really spend a lot of time talking to a man? That’s not me? No. And we are shooting in England, but she said she’s so far from her hometown and she has no one this way. I want to bite and ask her, but the more that this is entertained the deeper and worse it’ll be. So I don’t.

I start to fist my dick to the thought of her. My plan today is not working, at all. After I finish, I just think about this guy. Which ruins the mood completely. Part of me wants to tell Ryan, but not yet. Especially in the middle of shooting. I don’t want Ryan to also be awkward around her.

The next couple of days are well… awkward. I don’t know what to do. You know the last time I was in this situation? Never. You know last time I was getting feelings for someone? Over 30 years ago. At first, I’m met with a lot of “you’re quiet” which feels like her prodding and asking what’s going on, without saying it. “I don’t like it” she says outright. Yeah, me neither. She doesn’t let my grunts deter her for a while. She could possibly have a conversation with herself I’ve discovered. I found out the guy she went to food with was someone on lighting. Closer to her age. I’ve seen them speak a couple of times and didn’t think anything of it. I thought she was giving her opinion and asking for his. Now there’s another guy in the mix? Jesus Christ. But luckily she blurts out she doesn’t like him, and she’s just someone she’s found as a friend but she doesn’t know if he feels like that. Which eases me a bit, but not entirely. I don’t want him here at all. “Was it a date?” That might be the first full question I’ve muttered and I can see the slight eyebrow raise of shock. “I didn’t think so. We were just texting about food and he asked if we should go get some and I thought I’m hungry so why not. But I didn’t put any effort in. And we went back afterwards. I don’t know if he put effort in” Right, so if I got over myself, that could’ve been us. Whether we went out for greasy food and ordered greasy food to us, I had the invite first.

Tensions are high. She’s meeting my passive aggression with…. Passive aggression. She really does give out the energy she gets. I wish she understood this was for the better. Times of walking to set together is now met with excuses for “I’ll meet you there” and on breaks she finds some of her team to sit with. One day Ryan asks where I’m going and I reply I’m going eat in my trailer. Like that was the plan all along. He looks concerned but lets me do it. How have I messed this up. I sit and eat and just think about how I’ve built up this relationship and pushed her out.

One day she was sitting with Luke- this lighting guy on break. I don’t say anything but I ping with jealousy. At the end of the shoot, I don’t tidy up with her. “Aren’t you helping today?” She asks. “Ask Luke” I say as I walk out. I see her eyebrows furrow as I walk out. “Where’s Georgia” Ryan asks. “She’s got a lot on” “You’re being weird” “I’m not” I say avoiding eye contact. “You won’t even look at me?” “Can we eat in your room” Ryan pulls the same face as her. Trust me to fall for a girl that absolutely mirrors my best mate. “Okay” is all he musters as we get in the same car for once.

“I’ve got myself in a situation and I think I’ve done something I might regret” Ryan nods but his face tells me he’s anxious. “I’ve gotten attached to someone” “Blake?” Ryan asks almost instinctively. “No you fucking idiot. Actually Blake might’ve been socially better” I laugh. “Is it y/n?” Ryan teases. I drop my mouth. “How do you know?” “Who doesn’t know?” I repeat the question back to him in shock. Do people know? “We have eyes… that can see… you two attached at the hip to one another… I know she works with the you the closest but taking breaks together and walking together all the time is not part of the job description” I put my hand on my head and do an exasperated sigh. “Why couldn’t we be friends?” “Hugh… me and you are friends… I don’t see you moping when I need to have a meeting with Shawn so we can’t eat dinner together” I cover my face. I thought it was hidden well. “This can’t be happening” Ryan looks smug in my negative emotions. “Do I think it’s weird? Yes. You could be her dad. But you aren’t and it’s legal. But these really exceptional circumstances. You’re together nearly every day, of course you’re going to get feelings or whatever you called it.” “Do you think it’s wrong she is staff and I’m an actor?” “Do YOU think there is? Because I think there would be more of a power imbalance if this was someone off the street. You’re always going to be seen as a higher power cause you’re Hugh Jackman, but she’s put in so much work to be here. Let her be her own person.” “Why are you encouraging it?” “Because I get to watch you like a lovesick puppy even if you don’t realise what you’re doing so I think you should stop caring what other people might think- if it feels right you should try” “my divorce isn’t finalised yet” “I’m not telling you to marry her, oh my god. *I smile* I’m just saying if you like her.. be more intentional with her” “I think I’ve fucked up anyway” Ryan groans “why?” “I saw her with someone else and got jealous and made a comment” “I KNEW SOMETHING HAS BEEN UP WITH YOU” “I’ve been a prick to her the past week or so and I know I have but I don’t know what to do” “that’s not very nicest man alive of you” that makes me roll my eyes. “She started to give me a boner and that’s a line too far so I wanted to distance myself.” Ryan giggles like a little girl. “So you had a tantrum?” “Not at first, I’ve just stopped talking to her so much so she’s made excuses to not be with me on set. Instead she’s been with Luke. I usually help her clean up and we leave together but instead I start to leave and she asked what I was doing, and I told her to ask Luke to help her.” Ryan’s face flattens. “Why are you acting like that?” “Cause I don’t know what to do” “APOLOGISE” I groan. “I know” We go back to eating in silence. “Just don’t bring any shit onto my film” I salute.

The next day in work, it isn’t even icy. It’s worse. She’s totally professional with me. She never wasn’t in the first place, but we have no general conversation. Whether it’s in front of the team or when we’re alone. It’s only “look down” “look up” “twist your neck for me.” All work related. Who knew I’d crave a conversation about your weirdest dreams or something more ridiculous. When we’re alone I try to address it. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She looks me dead in the eye. “Okay” “that’s it?” “What do you want me say?” “Don’t you want to know why I said it?” She holds her hands up “your business is your business” Suddenly she’s gone from asking me all these questions and feeling like a safe space to nothing. That comment hurts the most. It’s gone from being a team to nothing. Someone knocks asking if I’m ready. “You should go” she says. I would almost prefer her to be pissed at me. Make a scene. Cause this only makes me doubt she doesn’t feel anything to me. “Are you going see him later?” I ask. “No?” She replies like I’ve asked her the most stupid question. “I told you it’s just friends, if you think something else that’s on you” “are we friends?” “That’s also on you” She’s being too easy. “So we need talk about it” “You need get to set” “aren’t you coming?” “Nope” she smiles. I groan. It makes her laugh. “Go” I do as told.

The next few days are the same. Only work talk. “I feel like I need explain” “You don’t” “can I… for my peace?” Ryan would rip into me if he heard me like this. Even I smile at how I’m pleading. “Not at work” “Will you meet me at my room?” “You want speak to me… you come to my room. Also you haven’t even apologised for being rude yet.” I touch her arm, and she lets me. She always gives me physical touch; not sexual but I’ve noticed when she’s trying to be genuine and reassuring she does gently touch you, and I know she would like that back. It brings her to attention. “I’m sorry” she winces “it’s a start” I’m so happy she’s not completely righting me off. We’ve had a conversation before how she finds it easy to de attach herself and doesn’t give second chances. I know I’ve still got a foot in here, and I know I really need to make it up for her. I think… I know how I acted would’ve hurt her worse than what I said, over the fact I’m jealous.

I haven’t seen her for a couple hours. I actually go try to find her. I’m walking up and down trailers. Shawn asks what I’m doing and I just smile at him dumbstruck, and he gives me a knowing smile back. “Good luck” Oh I’m not used to this at all. This is scary. I can hear shouting from the editing. Y/N storms out shaking. I grab her elbow to stop her, so she has to speak to me. “What happened?” “He’s a stupid fucking cunt” She grabs her arm back. I walk in the trailer. Before I even say anything “Tell your child bride that she doesn’t know better than people that have trained in this” I walk out instinctively. I was going to ask him calmly what has happened. I feel sorry for her, she does love to talk to people. She’s soft. But I also know sometimes she gives unwarranted opinions, even if it’s delivered in a lovely way, and some of the 40 year old men do not appreciate it. I’m shaking. First of all, to reduce her like that? Ridiculous. You don’t speak to anyone like that. Especially, even if this is old fashioned, you don’t scream and shout at a woman and one younger than you at that. I go find Shawn and Ryan and they fire him on the spot. I feel small, telling Shawn and Ryan about this, but it’s not my film. I don’t have that power. But they do it, no trying to compromise, which I appreciate. “Tell her we’ve sorted it and we won’t let anyone be bullied” I go straight to the makeup trailer. It’s locked. I know she’s in there. I knock and no reply. “It’s me”

She opens up. I just pull her into a hug. She kind of resists at first; not putting her arms around me. But she does after an initial second; sink into me. “He’s gone” “what do you mean?” “He’s fired” She lifts her head to look at me. She’s been crying but has stopped by the time I got here. Her eyes are glassy. There’s a quick flash of annoyance but she blinks it back, “thank you” I can tell she’s trying. I know part of her wants to know why I did that; the same part that struggles to let someone help her. But she’s let me help. I’ll make sure to bring this up later. She puts her head back on my chest and I’m sure she can hear how fast my heart is pounding. “Do you want to go home?” “Not really but I can’t lie my heart isn’t in it today” “go home” she looks back up confused “who will do the work?” “Give me the numbers of people on your team and I’ll sort it.” “Also who made you boss?” She smiles. “I’m not the boss but it’s a perk when I’m best friends with them” She’s thinking of a response “you don’t need to carry the world on your shoulders” “okay” she grabs her personal items after sorting out her cover. “Do you want to go to my room?” She pulls her face and laughs. “No” “you don’t want to relax in a big bed and a big bath?” “I do” She looks at me deep in the eyes. Trying to read me. I just hold my key out. We’re both looking at each and smiling for about… 3 seconds.. but it feels like forever. I also think sex would be less intimate than this. She’s looking right into my bones, trying to read me. I am reading her. I know her better than she thinks. I don’t think she’s ever had someone she can rely on, and I want to do that for her. I think her confidence is almost a facade, or an aid, for how much she’s done alone and I think she’s never really had someone she can trust. That’s why she can detach herself easily. That’s why I saw a flash of anger at me getting involved. But I can see she’s trying to give me a chance. And I ruined it the other day by having a tantrum. I don’t want to be another person she pulls down her walls for and then has to put them back up. When she takes my keys, I let out of a breath of relief. I know I still have more work to do.

I text her to let her know I’m on my way. Ryan asks how she is. “She’s okay I think, I’ve let her in my room” He teasingly slaps my chest, knowing what he’s implying. I smile. “No, well I wish, but not after today.” “So are we not acting like 16 year olds anymore” “No” I deadpan. I knock on and I can hear her unlock. Her hair is natural. No makeup whatsoever. In a robe. She looks angelic. Then I start to think what’s under the robe. I let out a deep breath. “Have you got clothes on under that” I cringe as I say it. She throws her head back and opens her robe. She’s in pyjamas. A long t shirt and shorts. Not form fitting but my eyes trail up her legs” “don’t worry- you told me to relax so I am” She starts to walk off and I follow. “This room is lovely” “it is but it’s not necessary” she doesn’t say anything. I get on the bed and she follows. “I’m sorry for acting how I did, I let my jealousy get the better of me” “didn’t know you’d have feelings at your age?” I smile “yes, your heart doesn’t stop” I can tell she feels better in herself with these smart ass comments. “What are you jealous of?” She asks smugly. Knowingly. I stutter on my words. “You said you wanted talk about it.” “I have a crush on you” There’s painful silence. I’m looking at her with yearning in my eyes. I end up covering my face, exasperated by her silence. “I’m too old to feel like this I know” She does an evil laugh. “Is that why you’re jealous? Of him?” I nod. “I’ve told you we’re just friends” “I know but you look happy together” “God forbid” she jokes. “Come on you’re meant to be listening right now” “I am!” “Also he’s good looking, age appropriate, why would you not like him?” She gets a serious look on her face. “I feel a way for you too” I think I sit up slightly too eager. “- but I don’t appreciate how you acted at all. Especially at your age. That wasn’t okay. Even if you didn’t want to help, I didn’t like the walking out on me with a snide comment. You need to speak to me.” I salute. “I know and I’m sorry, I knew that would’ve hurt the most. I won’t do it again. I think how I handled it was to be honest, based a lot on I don’t understand what I’m feeling and I didn’t know how you felt so it really won’t happen again” “do you feel better knowing I feel the same?” I lie back on the bed. My back hurts. “I feel more comfortable and confident now to not be a prick”

I open my arms to a hug. She sinks into me. It feels natural. Also I’m realising we’re cuddling on a bed. I’m controlling my dick. Think of ugly sad things Hugh. Who knew at this age I’m still ready to go. But not today. My hands are under MY robe that’s she’s wearing, rubbing up and down her back. Starting to feel the gentle curve of her ass and where her breasts are pushed slightly out. “I hated not speaking to you” “I didn’t like it either and I can tell you how sorry I am” her confession makes my heart flutter. “If it helps I don’t really know what I’m doing either- I’m not very good at being with someone… or even getting close to that” “I don’t understand why” “Uhm….. this is a conversation for another time… but I don’t think a lot of people are attracted to me” It hurts she doesn’t see how attractive she is. “I don’t really ooze sexiness” she says looking at me with the same eyes I would love to see in between my legs. “I’m awkward and I’m not funny- people my age just want to have sex and I want a relationship where they’re my best friend” “all these reasons make you special to me” “do I say thank you?” We both laugh. “I don’t know” “what happens now?” “Well Ryan has said we can’t bring shit back onto the film set so we just carry on as we were” this whole conversation she was on my chest, which made this slightly easier. She suddenly sit up on her hands “what does Ryan know?” “Will you be mad?” “No…” she leaves a pause. “Well I told him everything… well my side. That I’m getting feelings for you and I don’t know what to do so I’ve acted out” “what did he say?” “Everyone knows anyway” “Whaaaaaat!” “Yeah apparently we’re not very good at hiding how we feel.” “Well I thought I knew how you felt but then you didn’t speak to me for a week so I thought you were confusing” “I had no idea how you felt until you blushed when touching my stomach” she goes back down to cover her face. “Don’t tell me anymore” I cackle. Y/N admits she’s not used to this and I need to be patient with her. “You need be patient with me. I don’t know what I’m doing. God, ignoring the circumstances of this, my divorce isn’t even final, that’s a whole seperate ballpark. What if someone sees us? I don’t think we should set any times or goals or anything but now it might be easier.” “I didn’t even think about paparazzi or that side.” The tension is the air is thick. I act like nearly 60 year old man I am. “We don’t have to think that far yet though, you might be sick of me by then. We should just enjoy it for what it is right now” She goes to say something and stops herself “Okay sir” This makes me grab at her but I quickly stop. That’s not what a polite gentleman would do. “What were you going say?” “You might decide you don’t want me” “Spending nearly all week with someone, you get to know them quickly and decide how you feel about them and I don’t think I’ll decide that.” She lifts her head back up. Reading my face. She goes back down. “Okay” we stay like this for a while. “Do you want me to go?” I tap her so she sits up. “No, stay.”

We get up and order greasy food. We lie back on the bed full. “Wait… you shouldn’t have had that” “it’s okay I’ll go harder at the gym” She laughs. We’re watching a quiz show. “What happened earlier?” I ask. I was looking at scales and I noticed an error. A genuine error. I tried to tell them but I suppose they were stressed and bit my head off. So I bit his head off.” “If I didn’t get involved, what would you have done?” She shrugs “nothing” “I know it’s hard for you but I never want you go through anything alone, especially not anything like that. I’m here to help” She registers my face. “Okay” She then snuggles up to me. With every touch and comment that is slightly more vulnerable, I feel pride. Like I’ve accomplished something. I know it’ll be a long journey but I’m happy she is seeing me as a person she can trust. She doesn’t have to carry everything alone.

[friendship-ditch]

Portrait

Carol Aird x Fem!Reader ✼

Summary: Carol hires you as an artist to fulfill various requests, though not all of them involve art.

Warnings/Notes: Slight non-sexual nudity? Nothing really

Word Count: 3596

  It was hard to find work as an artist. 

  You often found yourself darting from contract to contract, visiting their houses and completing their jobs, but never getting called back. It was usually rich people that hired you so you did leave with a good sum of money, but it was only enough to last you a certain time. There were a few times money was hard and you’d pick up a side job to earn a solid income but just that was torture. 

  You were an artist, unchained and unbound. Tying yourself in with the restraints of a corporate job sounded like hell. You would go insane.

  But as the winter settled in and heating bills rose, you found yourself having to take a few more unfavorable jobs as well from the usual portraits and elaborate murals. That’s how you ended up repainting the women's bathroom in Frankenburg’s, the department store. You tried to get there early and work before customers came in but the walls were in desperate need of assistance and you spent half of the time peeled off the old shitty paint.

  Nearly every woman that entered the bathroom gave the strange girl on a ladder painting the upper walls an odd look; usually one of annoyance or confusion, but they rarely ever said anything. You eventually got so used to tuning them out, that when someone did speak to you, they had to try quite a few times.

  “Excuse me?” A voice asked, quite loud.

  Startled, you looked down the ladder. If you weren’t clinging on tight, you probably would’ve fallen over.

  She was beautiful.

  Golden hair curled just above her shoulders, body wrapped in a rich fur coat and hands hidden beneath leather gloves. She was staring up at you, a polite smile on her face.

  “I’m sorry, am I in your way?” You stuttered. Of course you weren’t. There was nothing here but a wall. You cleared your throat. “Or uh… do you need something?”

  The woman chuckled. “The latter. You don’t mind if I ask you something, do you? I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

  “No, no, not at all. I need a break.” You climbed down before taking a seat on one of the lower steps. “How can I help?”

  “Do you do home work?”

  “I do anything.”

  A little smirk spread across her lips, then was forced back into that polite smile, though the twinkle in her eyes didn’t fade.

  “I can hire you, then? I promise it’s a better job than a bathroom.”

  She was beautiful and funny? Was this a dream? If she wasn’t staring at you with those intent blue eyes, you would’ve slapped yourself just to check.

  “Yes. You can hire me.” You dug around in your pocket for a business card and pulled a rumpled one out. “Sorry… I’ve been here a while. Everythings a bit messy.”

  “I don’t blame you.” The woman took the card like a treasure. “When are you available?”

  “Anytime after today.”

  “Wonderful. My husband was supposed to paint the hallway but… he’s not around to do that anymore.” The woman huffed, then blinked at the look on your face. “Oh, no, he’s not dead. We’re just divorced, that’s all. It’s for the better he’s not around… though I’m not in the best headspace to spend hours on a ladder, if you understand where I’m coming from.” 

  Seeing as you’d just been on a ladder for the past 4 or so hours, you didn’t, but you smiled anyway. 

  “Completely. Just give me a call later and tell me what you need.”

  “I will.” The woman winked and turned towards the door, then she paused. “I’m Carol. Carol Aird.”

  “Y/n.” You replied, not missing the way her lips quirked up into a grin.

  She dipped her head and then left, though you could hear her voice hang behind for a moment: “I’ll see you soon, Y/n.”

  And you did see her soon. She called you the next day and you went to her house the day afterwards. She’d already gotten the paint and everything with the intention to redo the hallway herself, but after climbing the ladder and getting hit with a wave of vertigo she swore it off.

  Now you were pulling up in front of her house. It was a nice, large stone house way out into the country of New Jersey. The maid brought you inside and you met Carol in the hallway.

  The hall had long walls and tall ceilings, the old white paint peeling off around the edges from years of clinging on. Carol had done you a favor and moved what furniture and paintings she could. You negotiated a pay and then she left you to paint. 

  While you worked, you could hear her playing and talking to her younger daughter downstairs, Rindy. The little girl was the one to come up and very shyly ask you about lunch, which Carol had just called you down to. You’d never had a client serve you lunch before, much less invite you into their dining room but Carol would have it no other way.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this, truly. You’re a saint.” Carol set the tray down on the table with your sandwich and glass of ice water. She brushed her fingers against your shoulder and then nudged the curtains aside to peer out the window. “I had been planning to hire a painter for a long time, but it kept slipping my mind. I suppose I’ve been rather busy recently.”

  “With the divorce?” The words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them. You’d found an overturned family photo upstairs that had fallen from the hallway table. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

  “No, no, it’s okay.” Carol assured you with a heavy sigh. “You’re right. The divorce has taken a lot out of me, I suppose. But it’s for the better. I’m tired… but happy.”

  You nodded quietly in understanding, about to drop the topic when she looked over at you.

  “We fell out of love, Harge and I.” The wistful tone in her voice led you to believe she hadn’t talked about this to anybody in a while. “I was first… I fell in love with someone else for a time. My best friend. She and I are long over but what little Harge and I had left was broken. I don’t blame him… but in all honesty he never treated me like a wife. Just an object.” Carol trailed off as she turned to face you. “I’m sorry. You don’t care about this.”

  You shook your head and stood to join her at the window, sandwich clutched in your hand. “It’s alright. I don’t mind. I like talking.”

  “Do you…” Carol smiled faintly. “You’re a dear.”

  Her words brought a bashful smile to your face and you just chuckled.

  It was later that day, as you were finishing up the hallway, that Carol came upstairs once more. “How packed is your schedule?”

  “Honestly? Not very.”

  “Can I hire you again?” Carol looked up at the newly painted walls, admiring your work. “Rindy’s room is a bit… the colors are rather faded. Harge promised her a mural above her bed long ago but that fell through, I was thinking about maybe a light pink.”

  “I can paint a mural.” You offered.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” You grinned and nodded, eager to do something other than plain colors. “I’m actually… Well, usually I do more commissions and stuff like that. I’ve just been doing wall paintings to pay the bills.” 

  A look of curiosity flashed through Carol’s eyes and she nodded slowly. “And your commission schedule?”

  “Still empty.”

  “Would you be able to pump something out before Christmas?”

  “Yes.” You decided not to say the ‘for you’ that nearly slipped out. “I can do that.”

  You would say anything to see that big smile spread across her face. And it wasn’t just that. The second Carol found herself naturally close enough, she pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head and ruffled your hair affectionately. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/n.”

  The next few days you completed the mural in Rindy’s room, though you spent half of the time talking with Carol about various little Christmas presents she wanted to commission for various family members and friends. Before you knew it, you were spending a lot of time there at her home with her and Rindy. You got to know the both of them pretty well, doing a few little paintings for Rindy and being a friend you learned that Carol desperately needed.

  It was one late night after a little bit of wine that Carol asked you to paint her. The two of you gathered into the study and you sat her on a stool beside some flower vases. Then you propped your easel up in front of her and began to paint. It was a bit of a struggle since the two of you kept giggling but you eventually got into the groove, at least, for a little while.

  “You moved again.” You peered above your canvas at the elegant and poised woman, noting her torso was now tilted slightly towards the left. It had previously been straight. 

  “Did I?” Carol’s voice sounded from a few feet ahead where she sat. She tried to lean back to her previous position but her hand flew to her back with a grunt. “Shit…”

  “Is everything alright?” Not liking the sound of her in pain, you abandoned your paintbrush. The portrait was coming out well enough for a sketch, it could wait. You crossed the room and stood beside her with a frown.

  Carol took a shaky breath as her hand rubbed in tense circles over her side. She furrowed her brow when you replaced the motion with your own hand but didn’t protest. “Y-yes… I’m fine. Just a little stiff, I slept on my side badly and it sinches up.”

  “You poor old lady.” You cooed softly. Carol tried to bat your hand away but you moved it further down her side, immediately finding the sore spot by the way she flinched. “I guess I should’ve decided on a pose easier for your dinosaur bones.”

  “Cruel.” Carol huffed though there was no bite in her tone. She unfurled a little beneath your gentle ministrations but not much. “Treat your elders well or I’ll be the one laughing once you get unexplainable pain.”

  You chuckled, feeling her lean against you a little more. “Alright… tell me how to treat you well, then.”

  “Don’t force me to sit like this.”

  “I didn’t force–”

  “Help me up.” Carol paused, wincing again. “...please.”

  You slipped one arm around her middle, arm reaching behind her and hooking on the other side of her waist. She carefully draped her own arm over your shoulders. The aching side of her body faced the air so as to not stretch it further.

  The second she was on her feet you caught a faint mumble of ‘bed,’ sounding from her lips and began helping her out of the study and towards the staircase. It wasn’t easy. The hallway, decorated in rich wallpaper and wooden trims seemed so long. But you didn’t really have a choice.

  “I’m sorry, Carol.” You murmured after her third muffled grunt of pain. “Let me fix this somehow, please.”

  “Don’t pity me, y/n, I’ll manage.” Carol’s nimble fingers reached for the rail of the stairs. She appreciated your help of course but to have you practically drag her up there was slightly mortifying. The wood creaked beneath her tight grip and she took a deep breath.

  “Would a bath help?”

  “You want to bathe me?” Carol didn’t mean to sound so utterly flabbergasted at the idea but the tone slipped from her tongue. She couldn’t even remember the last time Harge did such a thing, if he ever did. Though she’d never admit it outloud, the idea was attractive.

  A slight blush tinted your cheeks and you nearly dropped her down the stairs. “Well… if you want…?”

  “I’m teasing.” Carol lied, locking herself back up after a few seconds of thought. She had no reason to lay herself bare for you. Even for you, that was much too vulnerable for her tastes. “But a bath would be,” her breath hitched at a long stretch, “pleasant, yes…”

  “I’ll draw one for you.”

  The walk to the lavish bathroom was more painful than usual. You’d always dreamed of a bathroom this large and extravagant… upon finding that out, Carol often offered it to you after a long day. She let you guide her over the cold tile and took a seat by the window as you began to fill the tub. 

  “How often does this happen?” You asked, fingers swirling around in the warm water to make sure you didn’t scald the poor woman. On the other side of the room, behind the privacy wall, Carol was struggling to slip out of her clothes and into a robe. There was a thump, then a response.

  “Not often… it’s picked up ever since things with Harge went down. The doctor told me it could be a stress response.” Carol gritted her teeth, fingers aimlessly scraping over her back in an attempt to unstick the zipper on the back of her blouse. When her attempts were futile, she peeked around the corner. “Help me, please.”

  It took a little tugging but eventually the zipper came loose. The blouse practically melted off Carol’s shoulders, revealing her somehow both muscular and slim back, only obscured by her lace bra. Your fingers lingered a moment too long and Carol chuckled.

  “Unclip that too, please.” She added. You did as she asked and she turned to face you, an arm keeping the fabric over her chest. “Thank you. Is the bath ready?”

  “Yes.” You helped her over to the tub slowly. Once you reached it, you turned around so Carol could strip off the rest of her clothes in private. Her soft groan of contentment and the slosh of the water was enough of a sign for you to turn back around.

   Submerged beneath the soothing, bubbly water, Carol grinned at you through half lidded eyes. Her head lolled back against the wall and one hand hung lazily over the tub's wall. “This is divine.” She hummed. “How do you run such a wonderful bath?”

  You watched quietly as Carol lifted her hand above her head, her blue eyes studying the limb as though it was alien to her. “It’s not too hard. Just… fill the tub with water.” Carol flexed her fingers a few times as if waiting for more. When you said nothing else, she turned her head in your direction.

  “That's it? No secret bath salts or anything?”

  “No.”

  Carol burst out laughing, though the laugh was cut with a wheeze as pain flared up in her back. She sank further into the water so her nose was the only thing visible through the bubbles and giggled softly. “Strange. Perhaps you just have the touch. I’ve never felt so relaxed from a bath before.”

  You couldn’t help but chuckle at that as you sat down beside the tub. You drew circles in the suds atop the water. “That’s a new compliment, I’ve never heard that one before.”

  “Sell it with your business. Y/n: Art and Baths.”

  Both of you laughed. Your laugh turned into a yelp when a hand snaked up out of the water and grabbed yours tight.

  “What are you doing?” You shook off the sudden wave of shock, watching curiously as Carol’s fingers left soapy trails over your skin. The soft pads of her fingers brushed up and down your arm, turning it over until she was satisfied.

  “You’ve got paint here.” Carol tugged your arm closer, revealing a large splatter of green paint on your skin. Then she looked up at you, eyes taking in the multiple paint spots on your face. “You’ve got paint everywhere.”

  “That happens.”

  “Does it itch? Rindy spilled a whole container of paint on herself one evening. The poor thing cried for hours about the itch.” Carol began to scrub the paint off your arm before you even replied. Her nails dug gently at your skin, peeling the green off and watching it dissolve in the water.

  You chuckled as the touch began to tickle the closer it got to your elbow. “It doesn’t itch a lot. Sometimes it does, though.”

  “We can’t have an itchy artist.” Carol pursed her lips. Once the spot on your arm was gone, she lifted her hand and waved her fingers. “Come here.”

  When your face was in reach, she sat up a little. The bubbles just barely covered her chest, but you could care less about that. Her fingers were now gently scrubbing away at a streak of blue on your cheek. The corner of her bottom lip was bit tight between her teeth, concentration in her eyes as she worked.

  “This stuff is strong.” Carol muttered in displeasure. 

  “That’s how it lasts so long.”

  She only huffed and continued to scrub. When she noticed some paint by your ear, she flashed you the same look she probably gave Rindy when her painting incident happened, then got to work once more.

  “Is your back feeling better?” You tried to make smalltalk to ignore how close her head was to yours. You could feel her breath on your skin, droplets of water dripping down your neck from her fingers, only to meet their doom from her hand.

  “Much.” Carol murmured. “I don’t even feel it anymore. You’re a saint.”

  “Truly, all I did was fill the tub with water.”

  “Well, truly, I think it feels so good because you did it.” Carol whispered in an odd tone. When you turned to look at her, your faces gently bumped into each other.

  You pulled away in surprise but Carol didn’t. Her hand settled on your neck and she was watching you through deep eyes, contemplation clear in them. 

  “I feel drunk… is it late?” She asked.

  “It’s nearly 1 am.” You remembered the time from around half an hour ago. You didn’t want to risk looking now in case she’d tug your neck, or let go. “I think people start feeling loopy around this time.”

  “Or it’s your bath.” Carol teased, though her eyes were serious. When you didn’t break eye contact, she sat up fully and tucked her knees to her chest to hide what little of herself she could. The soap clung to her body like a blanket but you could still see the majority of it. “I think it’s the bath.”

  “It might be the bath.” You agreed breathlessly. Her hand ran up your neck to cup your cheek and you leaned into it. “I think I feel it too.”

  “That’s good.” She leaned a little closer, now directly in front of you. “I’m not scaring you, am I?” You shook your head immediately and a flirty smile broke out across her face. “Good.”

  Your eyes fell to her lips, then rose back to meet her piercing gaze. “...I think I’m going to need to paint you again.” You whispered.

  Carol was confused by the change in topic, brows furrowing. “Why’s that? Is this one not good?”

  “It’s beautiful.” You’d managed to capture her likeness almost to a T on the painting downstairs, even though it was just a sketch. “But I want one for myself.”

  Finally, you’d managed to fluster Carol. Her already pink cheeks darkened and she let out a nervous chuckle. “You artists… always so bold.”

  “I can be bolder.”

  Carol’s eyes flashed with challenge, but you didn’t get to see it before your lips met. And by the time you pulled away, it was replaced with need and adoration. Her mouth hung slightly open, her whole body flushed. “Y/n…”

  “Was that okay?” 

  “It was okay. But I’ve seen you do better.” Carol’s fingers found their way into your hair, twirling a lock around her pointer finger. “Kiss me again. I think I’ll like it a lot more.”

  You had no choice but to fulfill her request. She seemed a bit more pleased, but requested it again, and again.

  And by the time she’d finally upgraded your kiss to a ‘great’, half of your shirt was soaked from leaning over the tub. Carol ended up taking it off and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. She pulled away and glanced down at the tub.

  “Perhaps we’ll have to do this in the other bathroom.” Her voice was soft against your skin. “The tubs bigger. I’m afraid we both wouldn’t fit in this one.”

  You giggled. “That’s okay. I can wait.”

  “I can’t…” Carol huffed. “Grab my towel, will you? I think my back is feeling better.”

  That was a bit of a lie as she rose from the tub with a grunt, but ignored it. You helped her out and she dried herself off with the towel, though when you tried to leave the room, her fingers latched around her wrist.

  “Stay, won’t you?” Carol flashed you a flirty, playful look, then cleared her throat and forced her smile away, though it didn’t leave her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get dressed on my own.” She added, as if you’d need another reason to stay.

  You closed the bathroom door, made sure it was locked, then turned around as she dropped her towel.

[pixelatedraindrops]

“Alright, I think your fever rose again a bit… So, get some more sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay… Thank you…. Dad.” Yuma yawned then fell asleep with his hands curled by his cheek smiling.

Yakou looked bewildered by that last statement. “Yeesh. That’s some delirium… What the heck was in that medicine?”

Are those lines familiar to any of you? Well they should be. Because today marks a full year that I shared my first RainCode Fanfiction Home Is Where The Heart Is to the world on AO3 for the first time. Its the anniversary of my first Raincode fic!✨

Rambling below

This fanfiction was my first real first step into getting noticed by the RainCode community. I usually made sickfics for any of my fixations and when I wrote it the community was still fresh and new. I was really nervous to share it due to me still being pretty shy about my guilty passion at first...💦

But this fanfiction, was what really got me recognized in the community. Sure my sprite edits were something as well, but this story is one of the most read in the community along with many others. This fic showed what I was truly capable of in my skills as a writer and as a illness/sickfic enthusiast. 🌡️

In a way this fic got me a little more confident in trying to focus more on my gp and honestly its made me so happy. Happier than I’ve been in a LONG time. It’s thanks to people’s love for this story that I was able to get this far and get to know the community. And to be known for my gp and not be judged, but instead admired by others?? It really is such a dream come true for me… 🥹 Drawing for it and for this series is truly my calling as a fan artist.

Happy Anniversary HIWTHI. One full year since I truly began to spread my wings as a Raincode and illness whump creator. I decided to try my hand at making an anniversary art for it. Tbh back when I wrote the story, I had little to no confidence in my art skills at all. But now that I’ve gotten better, I drew something for it. I do worry the pose is rather boring because it’s the same as 2 other images that were made for me… xD But come on, you know its the cutest scene in the story 🥰 (and ugh yakou was a pain to draw AS USUAL ><)

Yuma’s home is truly with the NDA. The illustration shows him still sick but happy. Laying his head in the lap of his trusted chief covered in his dirty but cozy bed’s duvet, and surrounded by all the stuff his friends got for him to help him to recover~💊

I hope you like the picture. And to celebrate this story’s 1 year anniversary, feel free to tell me your favorite part if you have read it! 💕✨ And if you haven’t, I hope you do sometime!! 💜

[gaybananabread]

♡~A Mother Always Knows⁠~⁠♡

~I’ve been reading a ton of sad books recently, so I needed something fluffy to get myself back together. So, here’s a completely self-indulgent fic I felt needed to exist. Fair warning, I haven’t seriously written in a few weeks, so this might suck. If you’re still here, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Miles

Ler: Rio

Summary: Miles’s job as Spider-Man has been weighing heavier on him, and school and the Spider-Verse isn't helping. Rio notices almost instantly, and while she may not know what's causing her baby to feel so stuck, she knows exactly how to give him a little boost.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

THIS IS NOT A SHIP! IT'S A MOTHER LOVING HER SON! DON'T BE WEIRD!

Groaning, Miles keysmashed on his laptop, trying and failing to generate ideas. He’d done everything: rewarding writing websites, the Comic Sans trick, drinking electrolyte-heavy beverages. Nothing was working.

His English teacher had assigned another essay, and he was completely stuck. Miles was an artist, not a writer; the creative essay assignments loved to kick his ass. That, coupled with the actual routine kicking of his ass from villains, left him all sorts of stressed out.

Deciding he needed a break from staring at the white screen, Miles got up and went to the kitchen. He had all weekend to complete the creative essay; unfortunately for him, that was prime villain attack time. He had barely gotten to sit down and work for a cumulative of two hours.

Rio had been noticing her son’s off behavior for almost the entire year he’d been Spider-Man. It was negligible at first: forgotten assignments, baggy eyes, messy appearances. Those were typical for teenagers going into High School.

So, when she saw him stumble into the kitchen while favoring his left side, her mama bear instincts kicked in.

Over time, however, it had progressed to very noticeable, very worrisome changes. While she hadn’t confronted Miles yet, Rio was definitely not oblivious.

After all, a mother always knows.

“Miles, siéntate ahora.” Her voice was loving, but undoubtedly stern; he’d be smart to listen, and listen he did. Miles sat down at the kitchen table, doing his best not to limp. It wasn’t enough.

Rio set a bowl of Cheez-Itz in front of him before sitting across from him. Miles could feel the heat grow beneath his collar; she was using her Mom Face. For a solid four minutes, she just sat there, watching him as he snacked. Just act natural, just be cool, just eat the damn crackers…

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, or are we just gonna sit here?” Yeesh, there was that tone. Miles knew there was zero way of getting out of there without some sort of conversation.

“Just…loaded up, Mami. I’ve got a lot on my plate with Visions, ya know?” He tried to pin it all on school, hoping that would be the end of it. It wasn’t technically a lie; he did have a lot of stress due to assignments, especially his English teacher.

Rio sighed a bit; that was true, sure, but not the entire story. It worried her to see her baby like that, even more so when he wouldn’t let her help. Still, she had to find a way to get him to de-stress, even if she didn’t know the full cause.

“Hmm. Couch,” she ordered, standing and heading to their living room. Sure, it was a short walk, but she could still be mysterious.

Miles knew better than to argue, setting the empty bowl in the sink before joining her. He was stiff, his mind spinning with all sorts of theories and questions. Was she gonna press the issue? Did she know, and was just trying to see how much he would lie to her? Was she gonna ground him indefinitely for not coming clean?

Instead of confirming her son’s fears, Rio just pulled him into a hug by the shoulders. Miles’s eyes widened, but he quickly relaxed, resting his head on his mom’s chest. Man, he was tired…

“I love you, Miles. I know something’s wrong, and I know it’s hard for you to tell me. Just…remember that I’m always here for you, okay?”

Miles felt his heart lift at her words. She…she really loved him. She knew he was lying, but she still loved him. He swallowed a small lump forming in his throat before nodding; he didn’t trust his voice.

Now that she’d gotten him nice and emotional, Rio decided he needed to cheer up a bit. Miles was so stressed and reserved most of the time. She missed the days where his bright, unapologetic smile would light up their home - especially his giggles. How Rio longed to see him happy like that again…

Oh. Lightbulb.

“Thank you, baby. You just seem so sad anymore. Me encantaría verte sonreír de nuevo.” Shifting her hand down Miles’s side, she tried to hide her growing smile. If she wanted to surprise her son, she had to be crafty.

Miles's brain lagged a bit as he translated her words. Smile again? What...why was his spider-sense going off?

"Lucky for you, I think I remember how to fix that," she crooned. Then, in a gentle and teasy way, she started wiggling her fingers into her son's side.

The teen's eyes shot wide open, a giggle slipping out. His mom was...tickling him? It wasn't something they'd done in a while, thanks to his constantly loaded schedule and isolating tendencies. It immediately made him giddy and lit his nerves on fire.

"M-Mahahahahahami! W-Whahahat?!" Miles was shocked, kicking his feet against the couch. How could just a few fingers tickle so much?

"What? It's kinda obvious, Miles. I'm tickling you!" Her other hand joins the fray, pulling her son against her. While Miles was a helluva lot stronger than her, he couldn't risk overdoing it. So, like a true man, he giggled his heart out.

"Dohohon't sahay thahahat! Mohom!" Right as Miles tried to pry her hand off, Rio started to scribble on his belly. His giggles shot up for a moment, turning to adorable belly laughter.

"HEHEHEhehey! C'mohohon!" Two hands was just being mean. Rio was loving all the giggles, and she could feel the tenseness in his shoulders melting away against her. There was no way she could stop at that point.

"Don't say what, papa? Tickle? How about this? Cosquillas cosquillas cosquillas~" Rio quickly whispered the words in his ear, loving the squeak she got in return. Her son was just the cutest, even when he was trying to be all macho.

The teasing fried his brain, leaving him a squirming mess of nonsensical babbling and giggles. The t-word in one language was bad enough, but two? And in his ear? His mom was killing him!

Deciding to be cruel, Rio suddenly jammed both her hands into his underarms. Miles was tired, so she had to hit the sweet spots quickly.

"NAHAHAHA! *snort* MOHOHOHOHOM!" Miles shrieked and thrashed, absolutely losing his shit when his mom targeted his worst spot. Her nails were torturous, far worse than Hobie's lanky fingers or Pav's loving squishes. It shot ticklish lightning zipping across his skin, sending him into near hysterics.

Rio cooed at her son's near manic reaction, giggling as he snorted. Miles was always trying to act tough, but he just couldn't get any cuter.

Miles was sort of exploding inside. He was already tired from patrols, and now he was laughing his ass off; the boy was ready to crash. His mind was a goopy mess of flustered joy and giggles, rendering him unable to speak. Still, he could feel his stress melting away, leaving him in a stupidly happy, ticklish bliss.

Still, it tickled like crazy, and he couldn't last forever.

"MOHOHOHO- *snort* OHOM! IHIHI CAHAHAN'T!" Small tears of mirth pricked at the corners of his eyes as he tapped out. Rio stopped as soon as he said that, moving to pet his hair and rub his shoulder soothingly.

"Te tengo, Miles. Take a breath." She held him close, trying to help him regain his composure.

Miles was still reeling, giggling off the phantom tickles. After that lovely attack, he was completely drained. Thanks to his mother's gentle pets, he was on the verge of passing out right then and there.

"Ohoho crap... Whyhy?" Miles failed to stifle a yawn and rubbed his sides as he asked. His mother chuckled at his attempt before answering. "Because you needed to relax, Miles. You're too stressed anymore."

He rolled his eyes, but she wasn't wrong; he was practically limp against her. "Ihi...yeah, I guess. Still though, that was overkill."

She chuckled and booped his nose, making him grunt. "Maybe a bit. Now, do yourself a favor and take a nap."

Miles begrudgingly closed his eyes, mumbling something about not being a baby anymore. Still, thanks to her gentle head pats and his exhaustion, he was nodding off in seconds.

"Te quiero, Miles. Sleep tight."

Rio couldn't help but smile at the sight. Her son was finally relaxed; she couldn't find a trace of the earlier stress on his face. After he relaxed, she'd work on the essay with him. It might not get far, but they'd struggle together. That was what mattered, especially to her. She kissed the top of his head with a small, happy sigh.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Penny00Dreadful! @penny00dreadful has 29 fics in the Stranger Things fandom with 25 of them being in the Steddie Tag!

@hbyrde36 recommends the following works by @penny00dreadful:

Crossroads

Cat and Mouse

I'll Tell You My Sins and You Can Sharpen Your Knife

And They Were Roommates!

The Parting Glass

Sam, on top of being an absolutely amazing writer (AND artist!), is one of the brightest lights in this fandom (in my humble opinion). She is incredibly kind and encouraging, always ready to uplift other authors in the Steddie and ST fanfic worlds. I have had the incredible pleasure of being her beta reader for quite some time now, and am consistently blown away by her talent. There isn't a single one of her works that I wouldn't recommend, they are all fantastic reads. -- @hbyrde36

Below the cut, @penny00dreadful answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Opposites attract has always been a major draw for me, especially in my fandoms. Every pairing I’ve ever gotten into in every fandom I’ve been in have all been opposites attract and I’m not going to lie to you, I did not make that realization until this question. 😅 I had a very “Huh… that tracks” moment about it. 🤣 So the opposites attract factor is definitely big for me and while I suppose you could say that’s true for many, many pairings in fandom, there’s something about the complete opposite of both Steve and Eddie that is just enrapturing. From their aesthetic, to their personalities, to their upbringing, it creates such incredibly interesting parallels and options for building stories around them. On top of that, the two of them are so compelling as characters. Their various hang ups and traumas, their loves and hates, the time period and the genre of work they originated in all coalesce into something so captivating. I adore the two of them so much, they’re so fascinating. I think everyone can find a little bit of themselves in either one of them, but especially with the addition of Eddie into the series we got a character who was ‘other’, in the same way so many of us feel and are seen, he speaks to us on such a personal level. So, yeah. I love them.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Oh boy. There are so many. Enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff. But if I had to pick one that has been my longest standing love, it would have to be a slow burn. Like, when it hits, it hits. And it hits hard.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I looooove writing some tasty hurt/comfort. There’s just something so addictive about someone needing to be taken care of after something bad or traumatic happens or they’ve just had a really shitty day. It’s so cathartic. And also, I cannot like, I love getting comments screaming at me that I’ve made people hurt or cry or feel things because I know I’m going to make it better, I’m gonna give them that comfort. And it’s such an incredible compliment from people when they tell me that my writing has made them feel feelings. Like it is the highest praise possible that I could induce that in someone. It feels amazing.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Oh my god, that is such a difficult question to answer. I have read so many that have left a permanent mark on my heart or completely rewired my brain. I had to go look through my bookmarks to narrow it down because my god, there are so many talented people in this fandom and even then I was attempted to just give a list of all my top ones because, god they make me feel so many things, people are so fucking talented, I love them. But I would say if I had to choose one, there’s one that lives rent free in my brain. I think of it all the time, it is so god damn special to me and if I’m being honest with myself, it’s the first one that came to mind, It would have to be wouldn’t it be nice (if we could wake up) by kissesforcas  kissesforcas I have talked about this fic on my blog before but it just hits me in the right way every time I read it, it’s absolutely magical. I can’t recommend it enough, please go read it. It changed me completely.  There’s so many beautiful moments in it, the two boys are so protective of each other in it, but they also adore their found family and will defend them at any cost, the two of them feel real, their communication feels genuine and honest and realistic while also being true to their characters, I just adore it.

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

YES. FANTASY. It is wild to me that I have not done a fully fledged fantasy AU at all yet. Like I adore fantasy, what gives? Why have I not done it yet? Omg ALSO, historical. Like a lot of my special interests are historical based, WHY have I not done that yet?? AND, AND horror maybe? Like a psychological or zombie or paranormal/supernatural or slasher. So many things I haven’t explored that I want to do, and I can’t wait!

What is your writing process like?

Okay, so first things first, I get an idea.  Kind of obvious, I know, but yeah, the idea stage. Usually it’ll be something that hit out of nowhere, I’ll write down one line in the ideas doc and then pretend I won’t be thinking of it for the rest of the day. Then when I admit to myself I want to expand on it, I’ll take all of the brain worms attached to that idea and put them in their own doc. It’ll all be VERY disjointed at this stage, just a stream of consciousness of different situations/conversations/plot bunnies that popped into my head. Once I feel like I have enough of a concept through that, I begin to put them in order, maybe add a few more. Then I outline. I’m an outline kinda gal.  Over a page or two I’ll give a bare bones outline of what the fic will be, almost like it’s a short story? But still very rough.  Then I’ll start writing, usually in chronological order, I find that makes it easier to plant seeds and foreshadow and create consistency with the voice of the fic. Sometimes I will jump ahead if I’m really excited about a particular part of the fic, I’ll get it out before I lose steam on it. HOWEVER, I find that I almost ALWAYS diverge from the outline. If, as I’m writing, things start going in a different direction, I go with the flow, I don’t fight it. Fighting it, I feel is detrimental to my writing, trying to force myself into a box and hey, going with the flow has been working out pretty well for me so far. 🤣

Do you have any writing quirks?

Quirks? I dunno about that. I think I’m a pretty standard writer, but I do end up writing across three devices a lot of the time depending on where’s more comfortable. PC, tablet and phone. I’ll always stick to writing whatever my brain is focusing on at that time, but if I know I need to get a fic out and I’m not really feeling the inspo anymore, I’ll give myself an extra boost by watching movies with similar themes, listening to music related to it, or even just searching the trope on Pinterest can help me generate excitement about it again.Also do yourself a favor and get yourself a Bluetooth keyboard. It’s a game changer for writing on your phone.

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

I’ve done both and I much prefer posting on a set schedule. I always try to get the fic at least 50% finished before I start posting to give myself a nice cushion. Yeah, the immediate endorphin hit of posting once I’m done is great, but I much prefer the option to have a fic mostly or completely done before I post, so I can go back in and tweak things to make a theme hit harder or stick in a tad more foreshadowing or even just to edit.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I love all of my works, honestly. I write for me. I write the things I want to read. I think it would be difficult to narrow down a fic that I am the most proud of. Like I’m actually having a really difficult time picking one and saying “This one. This is the one I am most proud of.” Because I am proud of all of them and it’s for each of their own reasons. Like, some are very, very personal to me, some are stories that made me feel completely unhinged and obsessed(affectionately) and some are stories that touched people in very real ways, or made them feel safe and seen and that is so incredibly special to me. It’s a bit of a cop out to say that I can’t pick one, I can’t choose between my children, but I really can’t, they’re all so special, at least to me, in their own ways.

How did you get the idea for Crossroads?

So I have never seen the movie The Old Guard, but I have heard of it and while I know that reincarnation is not an aspect of that movie, I was struck with the idea of someone going through life over, and over, and over again, just to be close to the one they love the most. Like that kind of time bending devotion. And I had a brain worm of various historical ways of dying and I couldn’t figure out a way to write all of them into one fic before the idea of reincarnation hit. The very first image I had in my head of Eddie dying was being burned at the stake, so I had to work my way up to that time period and beyond. I knew I didn’t want it to be something that had only happened a few times over a couple of hundred years.  I knew I wanted it to be an ancient, centuries spanning kind of devoted love which is what led me to Ancient Greece, and in leading me there, I had to figure out why this was happening. Why Steve was traversing time just to be next to his boy again. Hecate appeared out of the mist and invaded my brain and it all kind of spilled out onto the page after that. 

When writing Cat and Mouse, what was something you didn’t expect?

I gotta be honest, the whole fic was unexpected. 😅 It was one of those stories when I originally thought of it, it was only gonna be a short little thing, maybe one or two chapters. By the end of it we were at 16 chapters and over 70K. Apparently I have no idea how to write anything short. But I think what also took me by surprise was how feral the two of them were for each other even though they didn't actually get together until later. I knew I wanted to have them being snappy and flirtatious for the whole thing and it evolved into the two of them being so dedicated to each other after only meeting a few times. I also didn’t expect the wild reaction I got to the fic, people loved it and were chomping for more and I was floored by it, it made me so incandescently happy!

What inspired Cat and Mouse?

So, the short answer is I saw this post from steddielations and it burrowed so deep into my brain, I had to get it out! Long answer is it was a mix of that post, and then a bit of Mr & Mrs. Smith mixed in along with John Wick. I just loved the idea of two deadly people being so soft for each other they’d be willing to burn the world for each other, do anything at any cost to keep the other safe.

What was your favorite part to write from And They Were Roommates!?

Oh my god, the banter. The banter was loaded with bitching and queerspeak and jabs, it was so much fun. I hadn’t really seen a story where the steddie boys had been bitchy queers before, like leaning into it and I just had to, I had to. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up and I could have gone on for ages just the two of them biting back and forth.

How do/did you feel writing I'll Tell You My Sins and You Can Sharpen Your Knife?

Conflicted, honestly. I was worried the POV I was writing from would be a little too out there, you know? There were a few times throughout writing where I thought I’d have to go back and change it out to be more of a standard fic but at the end of the day it felt so right to have the story told the way it was and it also felt very in line with Take Me To Church as well. It’s also the most poetic piece of writing I have done to date and while it’s not something I can see myself revisiting too often, it was a fantastic exercise in moving out of my comfort zone. It got me, right in the heart.

What was the most difficult part of writing The Parting Glass?

Oh boy. The whole fic was an exercise in catharsis. It was a way of processing my own grief after losing a family member and getting it all out into words was very, very helpful. I think the hardest part was just putting down into words how Eddie was feeling right in the aftermath, you know? Like grief is such a personal thing, everyone experiences it differently, so I wanted to try to figure out how Eddie would respond to it, especially considering it was the death of someone so important to him. So to have him looking around the trailer and it being empty but still with bits of Wayne dotted around like he was about to walk back through the door was probably the realest and most difficult part for me.

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

Oh god there’s so many! I could pick so many! But the first thing that came to mind is the small interaction between Eddie and Robin in Return of The King, when Steve is demonstrating his newly acquired vampire strength for the kids and Eddie has to hold onto Robin to keep himself from melting into a puddle: “Down boy.” She muttered. “Me next.” He practically whimpered right back. “Oh god, Robbie, I wanna be that stump. Tell him to do me next.” “You’re pathetic.” “What about it?” [...] Robin leaned in close to his ear but continued to stare at Steve. “If you two don’t calm the fuck down I’m going to get the hose.” Wet Steve. “Please get the hose.” I love Robin and Eddie together whenever I can get them snarking at each other, it’s just so entertaining. 

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

Oh yeah! A good few things. I’m coming back from my writing break and I’m going to be working on the final two fics for my anniversary event, Through The Valley and Devotion.  I also have a Summer Exchange Fic in the works along with starting on my Steddie Big Bang piece that I am also signed up for as an artist, I’m so excited to start them!

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

I think I would just like to add that this blog, this concept is such a wonderful idea, you’re doing great work here to bring people and fics to new eyes and it has been an honor and a privilege to be put forward the way I have, I’m so so so thankful. 🖤

Thank you to our author, @penny00dreadful, and our nominator, @hbyrde36! See more of Penny00Dreadful's works featured on our page throughout the day!

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

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Author: Danger Mouse

Group: Final

Prompts: Baby milestones. Panic, expect, ambition, compact. Treasure.

-

Baby Steps

“Belle!”

Belle looked up at the sound of her own name and saw Snow White crossing the street, a huge smile on her face.  When she arrived on the same side of the road she bent down, getting a better look into the stroller that Belle was pushing.  

“And Gideon!  Wow, I feel like it’s been forever since I last saw you.  Look at how big you’ve gotten!”  

“Yeah, he’s a little weed that’s for sure.” Belle smiled in return, looking down at her son.  “Hey Gid, do you want to say hi to Snow?”

“Oh, is he talking now?”  Snow looked up, then back at Gideon expectantly. 

“Well, no.  Not really.”  Belle shrugged.  “He babbles a lot, but nothing we can make out as actual words yet.”  

“Ah, I remember that stage.”  Snow nodded her head wryly.  “Neal babbled ‘dada’ when he was six months old and David absolutely insisted it counted as his first word.”

“What was his actual first word?”

“Dada.”  Snow laughed.  “When he was ten months he pointed directly at David and said it, so I had to concede the point.  He said ‘mama’ soon after though, so I didn’t feel too left out.”  

“Rumple thinks that Gideon will say ‘mama’ first but I’m not so sure.”

“Well, I’m sure you won’t have to wait too long to find out. He’s what?  Fourteen months now?  How is he with walking?  Has he taken his first steps yet?”  

“No, not yet.”  Belle kept her smile on her face with effort.  “He crawls a bit, but generally prefers to stay put and play with whatever he has around him.”

“Consider yourself lucky.”  Snow stood back up to her full height and addressed Belle directly.  “Neal was an early walker and budding escape artist. I’d turn my back for half a second and he’d be gone.  I longed for the days when I could set him down somewhere and know he’d stay put!”  

“Sounds like he was a bit of a handful.”  

“Very much so,” Snow agreed.  “But totally worth it.”   

“Oh, definitely.”  Belle smiled down at Gideon fondly.  

“Well, I’ve gotta run but it was great to see you.”  Snow took a step back.  “And I hope you’re coming to the Fourth of July celebrations tomorrow.”  

“Oh, right.”  Belle shook her head at herself.  “I’d completely forgotten about that.  But, sure, I’ll ask Rumple but I don’t think we have any plans.”

“Great!  See you there!”  

*

When Rumplestiltskin returned from the shop that evening he smiled at the sound of the voices of his wife and child drifting through from the living room.  Moving slowly he peeked around the door frame to see them both sat on the floor, Belle with a compact set of flashcards in her hand.

“Ooh, look at this one, Gideon.  Camel.  Ca-mel.”

“Ab-da!  Ba!”  

“And here’s a crocodile.  Croc-o-dile.”  

“La-do.  Hee.”  Gideon reached out to bat away the card.  

“All right, not a fan of crocodiles I see. How about an armadillo?  Can you say ‘armadillo’?”

“Lo!”

“Yes, armadillo!”

Rumplestiltskin decided now was a good time to make his presence known.  “Expecting our son’s first word to be ‘armadillo’ is a tad ambitious, don’t you think?”  

Belle and Gideon both turned to him, beaming smiles on their faces. 

“Rumple!  Hi, we didn’t hear you come in.”  Belle pushed herself up on her knees enough to receive the kiss he leaned down to bestow on her lips as he walked up to her.  “How was your day?”

“The usual.”  He sat in the nearby armchair, close enough to reach out and stroke Gideon’s head, as Belle settled back down.  “How about you two?  Did you and Mama have a good day, Gideon?”  

“We did, didn’t we?”  Belle addressed Gideon before looking up at Rumplestilskin.  “We went to the park and Gideon saw the ducks.  Then on the way back we ran into Snow White.”

“Oh?”  Rumplestiltskin kept his voice casual.  He knew his wife well enough to pick up on the way her demeanour shifted slightly when she mentioned Snow’s name.  “What did she want?”

“She was asking about Gideon.  If he’s talking and walking yet and telling me how early Neal did both of those things.”  Yes, there was a definite note of dejection in her voice now.  

“She upset you,” Rumplestitlskin growled, thinking of all the ways he could make the princess’s life miserable.

“No!”  Belle hurried to reassure him.  “I mean, not on purpose.  She just wanted to talk about babies with someone she felt could relate.  And I get that, I do. I just worry about how long Gideon is taking to reach those milestones.”

“Hey.”  His voice was soft as he stood, gently pulling her to her feet as well and holding her arms carefully.  “Remember that veritable library of baby books you bought?  I know you read every single one of them. What did they all say?”

“That all babies are different and develop at their own rate.” 

“Exactly.  It’s not a race, sweetheart.  Gideon is doing fine.”

“I know.  I know.  I guess I just…”

“What?  Expected him to be a genius who developed faster than all the other babies because he’s our son?”

“No!  Well, maybe a little.”  She turned away in embarrassment before meeting his eyes again, looking almost guilty.  “But it’s not just that.  Sometimes I wonder, what if it’s me?  What if I’m not doing something I should be doing, or, or doing something wrong and stifling his development somehow?”

“Belle.”  Rumplestiltskin stared intently into her eyes, wanting to make sure she was paying attention to what he was about to say.  “Listen to me.  You are a wonderful mother.  Gideon is happy and healthy and that’s what matters.  If he’s a bit late in developing then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but we have plenty of time before that stage.  He’s doing fine.”

They both turned to where Gideon was still sitting on the floor, babbling away to a couple of stuffed animals.

“You’re right.”  Belle smiled in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, before reaching down to pick up their son.  “You’re doing fine, aren’t you Gid?”  

“Ba-da!”  He thrust the toy giraffe in his hand towards her face.

“For me?”  Belle took it with a smile.  “Thank you, Gideon.”  

“Ahhh!  Ba!”  Gideon reached out and Belle handed the giraffe back to him.  

“By the way, thanks for finding that.” Belle turned her head towards Rumplestiltskin.  “Where was it in the end?”

“Hmm?  Where was what?”  

“His giraffe.  I couldn’t find it anywhere yesterday morning, but he had it today.  I thought you must have found it.”  

“Not that I can recall, but then he does have a lot of toys.”  He gestured at the cluttered living room.  “It was probably just hidden under something else.”  

“Maybe.”  Belle frowned as she looked around .  “I thought I checked though.  Oh, before I forget, Snow wanted to know if we’re going to the Fourth of July celebrations tomorrow?”

Rumplestiltskin sighed.  “Seems a strange thing to celebrate when we’re not even from this land.”

“Gideon is,” Belle pointed out.  “And I think it would be fun for him.  I can take him on my own if you’re not interested.”  

“No, no.  I’d much rather spend the day with you two.  As long as you don’t expect me to engage in any activities.”

“I think you’ll be safe,” Belle laughed.  “You can use Gideon as a handy excuse.”    

*

The Fourth of July dawned warm and sunny.  Rumplestiltskin watched in fond amusement as Belle slathered their son in SPF 50 before dressing him in a sun suit and floppy hat, then added two more bottles of sunscreen to her purse.  

When they arrived at the celebrations, his wife made a bee-line for a picnic table under the shade of a large tree, claiming the whole area with the stroller and bags she had brought.  Taking a seat facing outwards towards the square she held Gideon in her lap so he could watch the goings on around them.  

“Hey, guys!”  Ruby Lucas came bounding over once they had settled in, smiling widely at the family before focusing all her attention on Gideon.  “And hey, little man!  Great to see you!  Will you be joining our treasure hunt today?”

She reached into the bucket she was carrying and produced a plastic golden doubloon, waving it in front of Gideon’s face, causing him to laugh in delight.

“What treasure hunt is this?”  Belle asked.

“I’ve hidden a load of these around the square,” Ruby replied, handing the coin to Belle, “for the kids to find.  They can exchange them at Granny’s stall for cookies and treats or save them up for bigger prizes.”  

“Sounds fun,” Belle said, examining the coin while Gideon tried to grab it from her.  “But I think Gideon would prefer to watch from the sidelines, wouldn’t you Gid?”  

“Of course.”  Ruby winked at them, taking the coin back.  “Well I hope you have a good day, and enjoy the rest of the celebrations.”

Gideon reached out as she turned to leave, grumbling slightly.  

“Aw, it’s all right, Gideon.”  Belle bounced him softly.  “You’ll see Auntie Ruby again soon.”  

Gideon’s grumbling only increased, so Belle shifted him slightly to address Rumplestiltskin over his head.  “He might be hungry.  Can you grab his snacks from the back of the stroller?”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, doing as she asked, and looked up again in time to see her addressing a somewhat calmer Gideon.  

“Here we go Gideon, are you hungry?  Oh, what have you got there?”  Her brow furrowed in confusion as she lifted his hand, finding a small gold coin clenched in his fist.  

“Now where did that come from, hmm?”  Belle asked as she gently prised it from his grip.  “Did you take it from Auntie Ruby’s bucket when I wasn’t looking?”

“Ba!”  Gideon smiled and reached out for it.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t want you putting that in your mouth.  Here.”  Belle put the coin down before reaching into the packet Rumplestiltskin handed her.  “Would you like a yummy veggie straw instead?”

Gideon took the snack she offered and proceeded to throw it straight onto the ground.

“Guess not,” Belle laughed, leaning down to pick it up.  “Bit wasteful there, Gideon… Wait, how did you get that again?”

The coin was back in his hand and Belle took it with a shake of her head.  “I know I put that out of your reach.”

Rumplestiltskin winced, knowing his wife was not going to react well to what he had to say next.

“Sweetheart?”  He paused, waiting for her to look at him.  “Don’t be alarmed, but I think it’s possible that Gideon has been using magic.”

“What?  No, he can’t.  He’s…”  Belle trailed off as she looked down in time to see the coin vanish from her hand and reappear in Gideon’s.  “Oh.”  

*

Belle’s mind was whirling as she packed up, ignoring the concerned glance Ruby threw their way, before pushing the stroller back to their house.  She could hear Rumplestiltskin behind her but he didn’t say anything until they got inside.  

“Belle, sweetheart.  It’s all right.  Don’t panic.”  

“Don’t panic?  Our baby has magic!  How am I not supposed to panic?”  She picked Gideon up from the stroller, examining his face as though she could find answers there.  “The books didn’t prepare me for this!”

“Really? ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’ doesn’t have a chapter on Baby’s First Magic?” he quipped.

“Stop it!  This is serious.  How are you being so calm about it?  How is this even possible?”

“He’s the son of the Dark One and the product of True Love.  He was always going to be exceptional.”  Rumplestiltskin said proudly as he stepped closer, running his hand over the back of Gideon’s head.   

“Yeah, I knew he would be capable of magic.  That he could harness it in the future when he’s able to understand what he’s doing.” Belle felt her voice rising and made an effort to lower it.  “But he’s only a baby.  How are we supposed to get him to control his powers when I can barely stop him putting peas up his nose?”

“I have an idea about that,” Rumplestiltskin began cautiously.  “Do you remember the magic-inhibitor cuff?  Well, I’ve been working on something similar for Gideon, more appropriate for his size.”

“Wait, you knew this was going to happen?”  Belle pulled back in shock.  “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”  

“Only that it was a possibility.  I didn’t know for certain until today.  And I didn’t see any point in worrying you unnecessarily when it might never happen.”

“Right, well, in the future I would like to be informed of the possibility of our son developing magical powers before he starts pickpocketing people at town events,” she hissed.  

“To be fair, Ruby did invite him to join in the treasure hunt.”  Rumplestiltskin shrugged.

“It’s not funny!” Belle snapped.  “What if he’d choked on it?  Or what if this had happened when we were at Granny’s and he decided he wanted a closer look at a shiny steak knife?”  

Rumplestiltskin frowned, apparently not having considered that.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”  He looked down before kissing her head and she softened at his obvious contrition.  “Would you like to try the cuff?”

“I don’t see what other choice we have.”  She looked at him in the hopes he might have another suggestion.  “Do you?”  

“Well, I suppose I could try baby-magic-proofing the house.  But I can’t extend that to the whole town.”

“And I don’t want to turn Gideon into a shut-in, afraid to let him interact with people.”  Belle sighed then nodded, her decision made.  “Yes, get the cuff.”  

Rumplestiltskin waved his hand, a baby-sized cuff appearing in his palm.  

Belle eyed it warily, feeling a pang of anxiety despite her earlier words.  “It won’t hurt him, will it?”

“Of course not.  All it will do is suppress his magic.  Hey, Gideon.”  He smiled at his son, who was eyeing the cuff with interest.  “Would you like to wear this?”

Gideon smiled and waved his arm, the cuff disappearing from Rumplestilskin’s hand and into his own.

“Clever boy,”  Rumplestiltskin smiled.  “Shall we put it on you?”

“Ado!”  Gideon threw the cuff on the floor, giving his father a toothy grin..  

“Sorry, son.  That’s what we call a rhetorical question,” Rumplestiltskin chuckled, picking up the cuff and fastening it gently around Gideon’s wrist. “There you go.  It’s only for a little while, and when you’re older I’ll teach you all about magic.”

“Gick!”  

“Yes, Gideon.  Magic.”  Belle smiled, bouncing him softly in her arms.  “Papa will teach you all about magic.”

“Ma-gick!”  Gideon laughed, clapping his hands.

Belle and Rumplestiltskin looked at each other in wonder.

“Did he…?” Belle whispered.  

“I think he did.”  

“Ma-gick!”  Gideon repeated, grinning.

“That’s my boy!”  Rumplestiltskin beamed.  “Now make your mother happy and say ‘armadillo’ next.”  

-

[coltrainbat]

the reader and chris meet for the first time at a dinner with shared joy. the reader notices chris directly and would like to get to know her better. the reader just thinks he is from the market since she heard the news that he is dating alba. only his family and friends know that alba and chris only have a personal relationship. chris tries to explain that to her

Pork or Pasta?

Disclaimer: All characters, mentioned and referred to even those based on real people are entirely fictional. All characters and events are entirely works of fiction for the purpose on entertainment. I make no comment on those mentioned within the request or story. (Can't sue me now baby I'm a law school drop out 😘 )

Fuck fuck fuck. You were late, sooo beyond late for the Charity Gala. Security were mulling outside and in an attempt to save face and avoid having them open the large and very loud doors for your entrance you ripped off your heels clutching them in your hand with your bag as you raced up the stairs. 

“You’re late…” Tommy, the security guard who got rostered on all the events in your city was at the door, eyes honed in on you with a devilish smirk. Tommy had gotten you out of many difficult situation and in return you’d sneak him beer to drink out the back. 

“No shit Tommy.”

The security guard laughed “Don’t worry no one’s taking your spot, get in there.” 

“You’re the best.” Giving him a quick hug

Muffled conversation filled the room as you made your way to your seat in between your work bestie, Nigel and… who the fuck was that?

“Always making an entrance.” Nigel leaned over to the mysterious stranger with dark hair who you couldn’t see the face of but you swooned at his booming laugh. 

“I’m here! I’m here! Don’t fret!” You slid into your seat with a huff causing your bangs to raise slightly from the sudden gust. 

“Omg when did you stop wearing shoes that’s not chic.” Nigel faux gasped. Realising you were still clutching them you quickly tried to manoeuvre your foot back into the all too expensive, uncomfortable heel under the table. 

“I ran here.” You huffed at Nigel.

“That’s great sweetie good for you! Smashing those New Year’s resolutions! Now turn around and meet Chris.”

You were finally able to look up at the handsome celebrity, who looked thoroughly amused by your grand entrance and clunky movements.

The event was held annually to raise money for the arts and your work was a key sponsor but occasional celebrity appearances were nothing to make your jaw drop like this. 

“Be nice…” Nigel whispered swiftly in your ear before he pranced off to socialise. 

“I’ve heard lots about you.” He held out his hand for you to shake

“Good stuff I hope.” The corners of you mouth raised slightly as you returned the gesture. You never saw Chris Evans on the guest list and Nigel always handled the table seating, it was starting to became incredibly clear that the man who had listened to you rant on and on about your relationship status for years had pulled off the mother of all blind dates. That sneaky, conniving little bit-

“Nigel was telling me about how much you do for the artists you work with and quote how ‘You’re their God’…” You were pulled out of your train of thought by Chris smirking at the last line. 

You finally were able to look at his face properly, the small signs of ageing present in the specks of grey in his beard and the wrinkle on his forehead. He was a borderline silver fox, still in his prime with obvious experience present in his face and demeanour.

But you weren’t going to let yourself swoon so easily. Memories flooded in of your recent girls night, as you all huddled around Instagram reading about his newest girlfriend who was conveniently not present. 

She was young which was fine but your FBI level investigator friends were intricately telling you about her background like she was some girl from college. Her horrid behaviour towards waitstaff, her lack of work ethic and how little she cared about her projects, the tweets of her shaming anyone who wasn’t skinny and white - those ones hit hard. You were never the beauty type but that didn’t stop you from gaining the attention from men. But the idea of another woman shaming another for their looks made your skin crawl. She was the antithesis of everything you ever believed in; good manners, kindness and hard work. You believed people were a reflection of those who they surrounded themselves with. And as the memory recalled in your head you couldn’t help but feel icky at the man who while nice and polite probably felt little of you. 

You felt to get through the night you’d definitely need a little help. 

“Well not really, I just listen. People like when you hear them out. I feel like today that kind of personal aspect is lost in interactions.” 

Great answer. Professional. Clear. Nailed it. 

“Well I think they’re lucky to have someone like you. It’s great to see someone give people a platform to share their art.” 

Your eyes diverted from his intense gaze as he spoke sincerely at you to one of your favourite people walking past with a large bottle of wine, the condensation on the sides told you it was white. Your favourite.

“Yeah it’s great, sorry just a second… pssst Geraldine!”

The elderly woman looked at you with a beaming smile on her face, immediately shuffling over to you. 

“Hey! how are you girl?” You took her outstretched hand, squeezing it with happiness. 

“Good! So happy to see you here - I’ll get you the good stuff this stuff… it’s no good!” She waved her finger at you, sticking her tongue a little. 

“Thanks Gerry.” You smiled at her, appreciative of her and the gifts she brings. She was your version of God. 

“You’re welcome darling!”

“You know the waitstaff by name?” His eyebrow raised and you prepared yourself for a snarky comment. 

“They’re human too aren’t they?”

“No I agree I just have met very few people at stuff like this who aren’t so self absorbed with themselves to notice the people who are doing things for them.” You heart pinged a little at that comment, you started to soften in his presence. Catching yourself, you readjusted your posture, pulling your shoulders back. 

“I dont believe you should treat people on their perceived importance, besides kindness pays and now we are all gonna be drinking the good stuff.” You raised your empty glass up, ready to receive the tasty confidence from a bottle.

“I’ll drink to that.” He raised his tumblr of dark liquor, clinking it to your now full glass, making eye contact as you both sipped.

You had nothing to lose and decided to have fun with this, already planning how you are going to recount this epic story of ego takedown to the girls. 

“So Evans right?”

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Huh didn’t recognise you without your bucket hat.”

Chris scoffs “So you saw that huh?”

“Against my will but yes.”

“Well it was complicated.”

“Yeah I imagine hanging around models and c list celebrities all day is “complicated”.”

“I’m hanging around you aren’t I.”

“I’m not a model and I’m not complicated.”

“That surprises me.”

“You don’t know me near enough to be surprised.” You shake your head. 

“No but I would like to.”

“Now THAT surprises me.”

“Seems you don’t like me very much based on what you’ve read.”

“I never I said I didn’t like you I just believe you are the company you keep and I don’t like your company.” 

“That’s still an assumption.”

“Well screenshots live forever don’t they?” You gave him a sarcastic grin.

“You think I would know about those and still continue to hang around someone?”

“How could you not know, do you not know how to use Twitter?” 

“During all your research I thought you would of realised I’m not the best with social media.” He laughed awkwardly.

“I didn’t research you, as I said ‘against my will’”

“Well we are both here now so ask away.” He gestured his drink outwards.

You bit your lip trying to decipher the bullshit from reality but every word he spoke sounded so earnest.

“Why do you date the same skinny actress just in different fonts every time?”

“Who said I dated all of them?”

“Fair enough.”

“Not every woman I’m pictured with I’m necessarily dating.”

“Why would you chose to hang around someone who is so…”

“Horrible?” He interjects 

“I was going to say repulsive.”

“I don’t always have a choice.”

“That’s ridiculous you’re in your 30s.”

“40s… thank you but it’s the way of the game.”

“So you’re a coward?”

His jaw tightened at the suggestion and his playful gaze fell from his face.

“No I just haven’t found the right one.” 

“Maybe because you’re going for the wrong ones.”

“Do you know what this industry is like? I’m constantly getting pushed into being around people that I don’t particularly like.”

You gestured around you with obviousness apparent on your face. 

“Your job is different.”

“So now you’re saying my life is easy?”

“No I’m saying you don’t have 50 cameras in your face at once and people usually aren’t using you for what you have.”

You pursed your lips realising you’ve hit a nerve,

“You really didn’t know did you?”

“Nope. If I did I wouldn’t of taken it as far as it got. People are damn good at hiding their true-selves when it’s convenient but something tells me, you would never understand that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well for starters, you came in late, expensive heels in hand - tells me you have good taste but are practical when need be.” 

You nodded at the analyse. 

“You’re nice to everyone you meet, I think about 50 people have walked past beaming at you which is a nice change to have the attention off me for once.” 

“I’m just good at my job.”

“I don’t doubt it but you give it humility. Nigel told me all about what you do and he didn’t understate it.”

You blushed at your accolades particularly coming from the handsome actor.

“I think you can’t help but be anything but yourself and why would you when you’re so great? It’s endearing and a little bit intimidating.” He chuckled out that last line. 

“So I’m asking, can we start over?” He leans in a little closer, placing his hand on your knee like it was nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Yes.” You place your hand on his.

“But first… what if your type?” You quizzed.

“I’m looking at her.” He smirked at you.

After many speakers, more glasses of wine and an unspoken plate swap with Chris who graciously gave you his pasta after you starting drooling over it, the night was starting to become less formal and performers started to play covers of songs you couldn’t help but bop and sway to.

“Do you dance?” Chris asked casually

“Well yes but-.”

“Great!” He interjected, pushing out his chair and holding out his hand.

“Dance with me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good look, there’s photographers around and I know-“

“Omg woman just shut up and go dance with him!” Nigel nudged you out of your seat with Chris quick to steady you.

“You’re an asshole.” You faux sneered at him.

“And you’ll thank me Monday.” He gave you a smug smile.

Chris walked you both to the makeshift dance floor. Wrapping his arm around your waist as you swayed softly.

“So what do you think?” He quipped

“The Gala is going great, no major issues everyone looks like they’re having a good time.” You looked around nervously at a few curious eyes on you two.  

“About me I meant.”

“Oh! Well… I’m 80% convinced.”

“Convinced of what?”

“That you’re not an ass.” 

“That’s promising.”

“Well I’m not easy to sway.”

“Didn’t think you would be.” He purred at you.

You bodies were moving in a slow sway, Chris taking the lead as you melted into his arm as he moved you around the floor. 

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Dancing?”

“No being seen with me.”

“What’s so wrong with it?”

“People still think you’re dating her.”

“And? Now they won’t and for good reason.”

“And I was the perfect choice?”

“You weren’t a factor in the plan but if you must know a news report from a “close friend” is due to come out in…” He checks his watch behind your shoulder. 

“12 hours that her and I called it quits.”

“So how do I come into it?”

“You’re just the beautiful woman I met at a charity ball days after a break up that turned out to be my future wife.” He was grinning now. 

“You’re ridiculous you know that?”

“Maybe, but I still want to see you again.”

“80% Evans.”

“Well do you think it’ll be at 90% by next Wednesday?”

“Possibly why?”

“Cause that’s when I’m taking you out… lean back.”

He dramatically dips your body down near the floor never letting an inch of hair even come close to the ground, pulling you back up slowly so your bodies are closer than ever.

You were slightly panting now as he eyes raked your face for a sign of agreement.

“You’re a little too good at this aren’t you?”

“I use to do Tap.”

“No with swooning women.”

“Well if it helps you’re harder to crack than most.”

“Keep it that way.”

He spins you out, only for you to spin back in, your back towards his chest as his arms wrap around your stomach securely. His nose dragging along your cheek.

“So Wednesday?”

“It’s a date.” You move around, hands now landing on his strong chest, his arms clutching your waist protectively, scared if he loosens his grip you’ll somehow disappear into thin air. 

“Would you mind being the front page of a gossip magazine?”

You looked at him confused “Yes why?”

“Because I really want to kiss you but there’s a guy with a camera just over your left shoulder.” 

“Can he see my face?”

“No.”

“Is he filming?”

“Photographer so don’t think so.”

“Could you make him delete it?”

“Definitely.” He grinned.

With that you leaned up a little closer, putting your weight on your toes and placing a soft kiss on his warm plump lips, seeing a sudden flash of white light through closed eyelids you pulled out a little flushed, biting your lip as brush rose to your cheeks. 

“Make him send that to me before he deletes it.”

“Whatever you want.” He leaned down for another kiss.  

[extinct-fish]

More Reaper's Bride Drabble

Feat. Makoto's bi panic over Thanatos.

“I’ve gotta say, I didn’t expect you to invite me for tea, funeral lily,” Ryoji remarked as he held his mint tea, “well, tea and a show.”

Makoto had invited Ryoji for tea in Arsene’s Showroom, which was like a parlor but with a stage. This was mostly as a means to get to know him better. It wasn’t like he hadn't gotten to know Ryoji well based on the journal, but he felt it was better to hear from the horse’s mouth.

“It’s nothing much,” Makoto dismissed, “just thought to talk to you more.”

“Oh, Makoto- EERRRr- Yuki-chan! Sorry, wrong thing!”

“... I don’t mind.”

“Huh?”

“You called me Makoto, I said I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t care.”

“I’ll still call you Yuki-chan just to make sure.”

“Up to you.”

“Anyways, what did you want to talk about?”

“Well… I’ve been wondering this entire time…”

“Yes?”

“How did you get the title of the Nyx Avatar?”

“Ah. I’ve never been asked that before…”

Makoto tilted his head, waiting for Ryoji to answer.

“Well… I came here during a warring period, and I carefully stopped it. However, when I introduced myself as the Son of Nyx, I must’ve misspoke, since they heard Avatar of Nyx.”

“So… a mistranslation?”

“I guess you can say that. If you can’t tell, Japanese isn’t my first language.”

“Like I couldn’t tell. You have a bit of an accent.”

“Yeah… I’ve been meaning to clear up that mistake since I learned how to speak Japanese a little better thanks to Izanami and Izanagi.”

“Speaking of the two, what’s their relationship? I know they’re exes.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s bitter, but it’s not really friendly.”

“Just somebody they used to know?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Huh.” 

“Do you usually drink Mint tea?” Ryoji asked.

“It’s my favorite tea. I only use mint for aromas every once in a while. However, I do brew mint tea for myself a lot.”

“So, you also smell like mint because of the tea?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll have to note that down.”

“You’re gonna add that to the journal, huh?”

“Yep!”

“Goemon’s pretty good at drawing.”

“Oh yes. He’s a great artist, it’s a favorite pastime of his.”

“What’s your favorite drawing?”

“Definitely the one of you,” Ryoji admitted, “I love how he just captured your eyes, and your personality. Your drawing captures your personality beautifully, the way your indifference just shines.”

Ryoji then let out a dreamy sigh.

“Jeez- I kinda went into a ramble there- sorry about that.”

“Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

“I like hearing you talk. It’s… soothing.”

“Oh, Funeral Lily,” Ryoji sighed with a smile.

The two exchanged some stories about each others’ siblings, with some mild gossip about personas in between. After a while, Makoto had a curious thought.

“Ryoji.”

“Hm?”

“The other personas can change into human form, and you can change into both a persona form and your true form…”

“You… wanna see it?”

“Yeah. I mean- I’ve seen your coffins.”

“And you’ve seen my form via statue.”

“Yeah. I just haven’t seen it in person.”

“I gotcha.”

Ryoji stood up before blue flames slowly engulfed him, changing him into the form seen in the statue: Thanatos. Makoto stared in awe… and interest. Mostly interest, actually.

“Makoto?” Thanatos asked with concern.

Makoto’s eyes went to Thanatos’ hands, the teacup and saucer vastly dwarfed in his hands.

“Okay, I might be into that,” Makoto said impulsively before realizing what he said, “WAIT- NO- FUCK!”

Thanatos was surprised before he laughed, completely caught off guard by the response to his form. Makoto hid his face behind his hands, face red from embarrassment.

“MAKOTO-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Thanatos laughed as he wiped a tear away, the helm rusting a bit from where the tear was. It took a while for Thanatos to calm down from his fit of laughter.

“Oh, Yuki-chan, that was the funniest response to seeing my persona form.”

“H-hey! I see huge hands and my brain goes haywire!”

“Sure…,” Thanatos breathed a sigh of relief, “Well, at least you’re okay with this form… even if you’re the hornier one between the two of us.”

“Nuh-uh! I saw those chains in your room!”

“Yeah, but half the time, Arsene steals them for his own pleasure!”

“Huhh?!”

“Oh yeah, Arsene steals my chains, and my only rule is that he cleans them after use. Other than that, they’re just decor.”

“I will make them more than just decor…” Makoto muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“NOTHING!”

“And what was that about my hands earlier?” Ryoji teased.

“Ryoo!” Makoto whined, clearly embarrassed.

“Alright, I’ll drop it, I’m sorry, Funeral Lily. Wanna cuddle?”

“Can we even cuddle?”

“You’ll be tiny compared to me, but sure. The show’ll begin in a bit anyway.”

“Alright.”

Thanatos took his seat on the loveseat and Makoto climbed into Thanatos’ lap. He laid his head on the persona’s chest, noticing the lack of heartbeat. Then it suddenly appeared.

Oh… that’s what he meant by his heart began beating again.

The scent of almonds was more prominent in Ryoji’s persona form, and he was quite comfortable. Thanatos wrapped his hands gently around Makoto, making his mind swim with dirty thoughts.

Get your goddamned mind out of the gutter! It’s JUST a cuddle! Makoto scolded himself mentally.

“I dunno what’s going on with you, but you’re a little warmer than usual,” Thanatos chuckled.

“Shuddup.”

“Okay.”

Thanatos’ hand gently massaged Makoto's scalp with his thumb, which, in Makoto’s defense, is rather massive. If he were to compare the size, the tip itself was the size of his fist, maybe bigger. That did not help his haywire brain.

And so, as the show began, Makoto struggled with his brain being a dick while he was being cuddled by Thanatos. After the show, Makoto and Thanatos retreated to their own rooms, with Thanatos being happy from cuddling his bride, whilst Makoto was slightly-embarrassed.

“I am not going to see him the same way ever again…” Makoto sighed in his own bed.

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 8

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 4,256

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: Sexual content. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI! We block minors!

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

June 14th, 2021 

Nat rubbed her eyes with a yawn as she listened to the phone ring, hoping she wouldn’t wake him before he had planned on getting up for the evening’s night shoots. As the call continued to ring she contemplated hanging up and just texting him instead, but Chris answered. “Happy day after your birthday,” she laughed, smiling widely as he chuckled, his voice raspy with sleep. “Feel old yet?” 

“Based on how sore I’ve been all week, I think I’ve felt old for a while now,” he groaned, making Nat laugh a little, although she knew it was the truth. He’d been hard at work the past few weeks, busy with stunt sequences she couldn’t even picture in her mind based on the vague descriptions he’d shared. “Turning forty is just the nail in the coffin.” 

She tutted, telling him, “Well you don’t look a day over thirty-nine.” 

He scoffed, his voice unconvincing as he replied, “Thanks, that really makes me feel a lot better, Nat.” 

“How was your birthday?” 

“It was fine, just was on set all day. I got to talk to Ma and my sisters and my nephews and niece sang to me which was fuckin’ cute,” he informed her, but then paused as he yawned. “Then I also got this really incredible drawing of Buzz Lightyear with Dodger in place of Sox.” 

She smirked, having been waiting for his reaction to that gift in particular. “Oh did you?” She asked, her voice plain. 

“Yeah, this really talented artist I know made it for me,” he played along. “I think she might know that I love handmade gifts, and this is my favorite gift I’ve gotten in a long time.” 

Her heart skipped a beat at the praise, wanting nothing more than to be there with him, especially on his special week. “I’m really glad you liked it,” she told him quietly.

Chris’ voice was anything but teasing when he interjected, “I like you a lot more.” 

Nat sighed, the longing only intensifying the more he spoke and shared what he’d been feeling. “...I wish it wasn’t another month until I see you,” she murmured, unable to stop imagining that day in July when he finally arrived back in California to see her. 

“Me too, Nat,” he whispered back, the rasp in his voice sending a chill down her spine. “So what are you doing today?” 

“Just going to work. I’m meeting with some of the animators and they’re going to show me some of the chunks of Lightyear that’s done,” she shrugged to herself before she yawned quietly, the early hour something she wasn’t used to lately. “I’ll send you some videos.” 

“You better!” He laughed, and it did nothing to quell the emotions she felt. “I was wondering if you were going in early… normally you’re still asleep now.” 

But Nat shook her head, more to herself than to anyone, as she unplugged her phone from the charger and moved to lay on her back again. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d just call you instead,” she informed him. 

“I’m glad you did. I’m still in bed too,” he mumbled, then paused while Nat stayed quiet and didn’t make any noise of acknowledgement. “...You okay, Nattie?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she explained, then bit her lip before she decided to just go for it, not being able to hold back her emotions any longer. “It’s just that it’s cold in bed and I’m alone and I’m not getting touched by you and I miss your kisses, and I miss you.” 

She could hear his sharp intake of breath and a muffled sound as the blankets moved around him, then Chris told her with a low voice, “There’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now than have my hands on you.” 

She all but shivered then, her voice unsteady as her longing turned into desire. “That makes two of us,” she replied. 

“I wish I was in bed next to you right now, Nattie,” he told her, his voice clear as she switched the call to speaker, putting the phone down on the bed next to her “I wish I could hold you tight and kiss every inch of you.” 

“Chris…” 

He was quiet, and the only sound that filled the room were Nat’s deep pants until he finally asked, “...Do you want me to stop?” 

“No.” 

“Nattie, I want you to touch yourself for me,” he instructed, his voice dangerously low as Nat’s fingers moved instinctively. “God, you have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of you.” 

She nearly whimpered at a twist of her finger, unable to focus on anything except the sound of his voice and the touch of her hand. “I wish you were the one touching me,” she admitted with a whine. 

He chuckled, and Nat could nearly picture the devilish smirk on his face when he told her, “That makes two of us.” 

Her head flew back against the pillow, jaw dropping as she let out a moan then said, “I can’t wait until you’re back.” 

“I want to be with you right fuckin’ now,” he muttered, pausing as he shifted on the other end of the call, then told her, “I want to be the one touchin’ you, Nattie.” 

She couldn’t catch her breath for a few moments, feeling something build inside her. “You will be,” she whimpered as she slipped another finger inside of herself. 

“I wanna be kissin’ you and suckin’ on your neck that had you moaning that last night,” he rambled, voice sending waves of electricity through Nat and spurring her on. “I want my fingers to be the ones inside you. I wanna grab that pretty ass of yours, Nattie.” 

“Chris,” she moaned, unable to stop the nearly incoherent sounds from pouring out of her. 

He groaned on the other end of the call, silent until he ground out, “You like thinking of me touchin’ you, Nattie?” 

“God, yes,” she replied, wishing so badly that she could touch him, picturing the tattooed chest in her mind, with the chain dangling between his pecs as his hands moved over and in her. 

A low, dangerous chuckle spilled from his lips before he admitted, “I can’t wait until I get to have my hands all over you. I’m going to need to take my time with you when I get back.” 

She whimpered as she hit that spot inside of her, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before she instructed, “You better.” 

“God, your moans are so pretty, Nat. I’m goin’ crazy thinking of you laying in bed touchin’ yourself for me,” he moaned himself, his voice sounding strained as he panted. “Fuck, Nattie, I want you so bad.” 

“I just,” she moaned, unable to catch her breath. “I need, oh!” 

“I know you’re close, Nattie. Keep touchin’ yourself for me,” he all-but ordered, Nat following his instructions without hesitation as her fingers moved, pushing her closer and closer to the edge until she hit her peak. “I can’t wait until those are my fingers inside you makin’ you moan like this. Can’t fuckin’ wait to memorize the way you look coming apart for me.” 

But Nat couldn’t even respond for a moment as she layed in bed panting, her lungs trying to catch her breath while she felt her body relaxing into the sheets as she came down from her high. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, just relishing in the feelings washing over her body until Chris’ low voice asked from the other end of the line, “Feelin’ good, Nattie?” 

“That was a good way to wake up,” she couldn’t help but laugh, running a hand through her sweat-soaked curls. 

He huffed, letting out a small sigh as he stretched. Nat ached again to be next to him, to feel his muscles behind her as he agreed, “You’re telling me.” 

“Chris?” She asked, voice small. She paused until he hummed, then told him, “I really miss you.” 

Chris let out another laugh, voice dripping with sarcasm as he said, “I could tell.” 

“That’s not what I meant, asshole,” she rolled her eyes, listening fondly at his laughter. “I mean that I really just… miss you.” 

“I miss you too, Nattie. I really do,” he assured her, his tone serious this time. 

She listened to his breathing, almost able to pretend he was there next to her if she closed her eyes. “Only one more month,” she said, more to herself than anything. 

“One more month.” 

Chris listened to what Joe was telling him before the director stepped back up to the monitor, watching through the last scene again. The directors motioned for the actors to take fifteen while they got ready to rerun the last take, so Chris gladly took the chance to sit down. 

It’d been a long few weeks away from home – away from everyone except for Scott – and while he was having fun on his first big project since he left Marvel, he was still finding it hard to get back into the rhythm of shooting after traveling so much, and after his unexpected break in 2020. 

With a quiet thanks to Scott as his brother – and assistant, as much as Scott hated the title – handed him a water bottle, he listened as Scott quietly told him, “Hey Chris, Nat texted me and said she’s trying to get a hold of you.” 

“Okay, I’ll call her,” he nodded, a little confused at what was up. Nat always respected when he was working, careful to not text more than once or twice without a reply when he was on set. But to go through Scott made him worried, although he did remind himself that it was likely just something funny or lighthearted… or Nat thinking about earlier. “Do you have my phone?” 

Scott nodded, digging into his pocket and pulling out Chris’ old iPhone. “Yeah here you go,” he paused, handing the phone to Chris. He was quiet as Chris turned on the screen, taking in the several missed calls and notifications from her. “She left you a voicemail too.” 

He thanked Scott and got up, heading off the set to near where the trailers were. He quickly dialed her number, thankful when she answered and told her,  “Hi Nattie.” 

“Hey I’m sorry to bug you while you’re working, I’m just so upset,” she explained, pausing and leading Chris to worry even more. “I went to the gym and my car got stolen.” 

He honestly couldn’t have even dreamed of that being the subject of her displeasure, instead imagining a shitty work day or some stupid argument with her sisters. But he realized there was no way Nat could even get by for a week with no car, especially with her schedule. To get a rideshare onto the Pixar Campus would be challenging enough, and for someone like Nat, it’d be a cause of anxiety. But his fears didn’t stop there, instead he was uncomfortable with the knowledge that someone hurt her, even indirectly, and took something from her. She took so much pride in that car, loving it so much, and it was something he always associated with her – that orange SUV was literally the love of her life. “What?!” 

“My car got stolen,” she repeated, sniffling before she cursed to herself. “I was at the gym and when I came out there was broken glass on the ground and my car was gone.” 

“Nat, are you okay?” He asked, louder than he intended.

He didn’t even realize Scott had made his way over until he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he spun around to look at his worried face as he asked, “What’s going on?” 

“Nat’s car got stolen,” he told Scott quietly, then stared in front of him and repeated, “Are you okay, Nat? Where are you now?” 

“I’m at home. I’m okay, I’m just really frustrated,” she admitted, groaning out in annoyance. 

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, quiet as he thought for a moment. “Did you already report it to the police?” He asked her, his voice lower. 

“Yeah I called them and they came to the gym and filed a report,” she explained, then let out a bitter laugh. “As sad as I am about my car, I’m almost more annoyed I left my purse in the car because I had to go get my spare key from Mark so driving in rush hour traffic to his house probably made me more annoyed than anything.” 

But Chris felt his heart all but stop at her brief expansion of the story, realizing one key detail from it. “Your purse was in the car?” He asked her slowly. 

“I had left it but-”

“Nat, you need to go to my house,” he rushed out, motioning for Scott to hand him his phone. 

“What? Why?” 

He let out a short breath, then explained, “If they have your purse they have your keys, driver’s license, and your work ID and everything.” 

“I know but they can’t get onto campus because my work badge has my picture,” she informed him, her voice a little frustrated. “And they don’t know where I live.”

“Yes they do, it’s on your license and car registration,” he reminded her. He was terrified at the thought of Nat in that apartment, alone with an already questionable door, while some assholes had not only her address, but her keys as well. It was asking for trouble and he couldn’t let her mess with her own safety like this. “Nattie, this is really bad.” 

But Nat was nothing if not stubborn and independent, and it showed when she replied, “I’m sure they ditched my purse and just wanted the car.” 

“But you don’t know that,” he tried to reason, already searching for security camera companies on Scott’s phone, trying to get someone to go to her apartment. “Nattie, I really want you to go stay at my house.” 

She sighed in frustration, telling him, “Chris, I’m sure it’s fine. I doubt they even found my keys with how messy my purse is.” 

“Look, Nat, I’m not trying to freak you out but I’m really worried about someone having the keys to your apartment. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he admitted, closing his eyes as he imagined the worst possible outcome. “Please go spend the night at my house, just for tonight. I need to know that you’re safe.” 

Nat was quiet for a few moments, enough that he almost thought she was finally getting it – getting how fucking terrified this made him – until she quietly protested, “I’m sure I’ll be okay.” 

“Nattie… please? For me?” He nearly whispered, jaw clenched. 

He focused on every tiny noise from her end of the call, the short huff of breath and sigh before she finally agreed, “...Okay, but only if you’re sure.” 

“I’m texting you the code right now,” he told her, pulling the phone away and sending her the code to his garage and gate. “And Nat, I’m going to have someone come and change your locks and put up some security cameras at your apartment. I’ll have Scott set it up and let you know when they’re coming.” 

“You really don’t need to do that, Chris,” she murmured, voice small. 

“Trust me, there’s no way I’ll sleep if I don’t,” he confessed, a short laugh almost escaping him before he heard something behind him near the set, then Scott tapped his shoulder and motioned that it was time to resume filming again. “Hey, I’ve got to get back to set, but promise me you’ll leave right now and text me when you get to my house.” 

He could hear her phone buzz as the text arrived, along with another right after it. “I’m grabbing my backpack right now and I’ll call Mark or Jamie to give me a ride,” she told him, her voice slightly muffled as she moved around her apartment. 

“Okay, I’ve got to go back to set but I’ll call you as soon as I’m done,” he murmured, waving his hand as a PA started motioning him over. “And will you text Scott when you get to my place?” 

“I promise I will,” she assured him, sounding a little less frustrated and upset… finally. 

They both shared their goodbye’s before Chris clicked the red button on the phone and let out a long sigh to try to relieve the tension that he’d been holding in his body. A hand came up to scratch at his beard while Scott put a hand on his shoulder as he commented, “That didn’t sound good.” 

“It’s not. Nat’s keys and everything were in her purse that she left in the car,” he told his brother, shaking his head as they made their way back on set and he handed Scott his phone. “Scott, I found a security camera company here, can you call them and have them go install cameras at Nat’s place? And then also call somewhere and get someone to go change her locks? I think you already have my wallet so you can use my card.” 

“I’ll take care of it,” Scott promised, already tapping away at his phone. “And I’ll let you know when she texts me.” 

Chris nodded, mind racing as he told him, “Let me know as soon as you can.” 

Chris glanced over at the director who was waving him over incessantly now, and he patted Scott’s shoulder to silently say thank you before jogging back over to the camera. He got into position, but while they adjusted the lighting, he couldn’t help but find his mind wandering. He’d known Nat since February and had found that in that time, she’d slipped into his life so effortlessly, ever since that first day he’d seen her crashing into the glass door of that Pixar conference room. 

But this was a wake up call for him. He knew he liked Nat, but for the first time he recognized just how deep he’d fallen in for her without even realizing it. The thought of anything even remotely happening to her was almost too much to bear. Thinking of Nat being upset about her car, let alone the thought that something bad happening to her made him sick to his stomach and longing to jump on a plane right then and there to go back to her. He couldn’t stand the thought of not having her and that was something he was finally starting to realize. 

He’d known for a long time that he was interested in her. Nat had intrigued him with her humor, talent, and confidence, but the more he’d gotten to know her, the more he’d found things that he loved about her. She was so sensitive and touched by everything. She was down to earth and didn’t take herself too seriously. But she was vulnerable and a straight shooter, she wasn’t afraid of emotions and didn’t mind sharing them and that was something he hadn’t experienced in the same way. She seemed to calm him and ground him in a way he wasn’t used to, he simply just loved talking to her and being with her and the longer he was away, the more he recognized just how absolutely head over heels he was for her. 

But it wasn’t an infatuation, or just some fling. He wasn’t interested in her for a good time or just for her looks, or even just someone to fill his time with as he’d done before. He truly just liked her and there was something about this that just felt… different. And once that next scene finished and Scott hurried over to tell him that Nat had texted and was at his house, he finally could breathe a little easier. 

Chris was thankful for the distraction of filming to get his mind off of his worries but still was calling Nat the moment the filming for the entire evening was over. He gave her the rundown of when all the people were coming to get her new locks and install the security cameras but made her promise to spend another night in his house since everything wouldn’t be installed until the following evening and he swore just hearing that one soft, “Thank you for taking care of me, Chris,” and he wanted nothing more in that moment to just hold her in his arms and protect her from all the things of the world that Nat was too caught up in her beautiful artistic outlook of the life to see.  

That feeling lingered in his heart as he went to his trailer, taking a warm long shower after filming and getting changed before he and Scott headed back to the hotel. His schedule was so mixed up with all these night shoots and he was getting ready to pull all the curtains to block out the sunrise when his phone started ringing. Assuming that it would be Nat, he quickly grabbed the phone and answered without even looking at the screen first. 

“Hello, is this Chris?” 

Chris frowned for a moment, his brain frantically trying to figure out who’s voice it was but came up with no answer and instead just replied, “Yes it is.” 

“Hi Chris, this is Eric Marton, Nat’s dad. We met for just a minute a while ago when I was in California visiting Nattie,” the voice on the other end filled him in before supplying, “She gave me your number.” 

Just the mention of Nat made a smile cross his lips and he instantly relaxed while moving around the room to toss a sweatshirt from the bed over to a nearby chair, “Yeah, I remember. It’s nice to talk to you again, Eric.” 

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m calling you but I wanted to call to thank you.”

“Thank me?” His nose scrunched up at the thought, not having a clue what Nat’s father would want to thank him for. 

He heard Eric clear his throat before the explanation came,“Nat told me about everything that happened with her car and that you had her go stay at your house and got all her locks changed.” 

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing that someone had the keys to her apartment,” Chris simply stated, knowing that it was the truth. He put the phone on speaker and tossed it on the bed while he started peeling down his jeans to get ready for bed and went on telling Eric that, “Nat seemed to think that they just wanted the car but I was just so worried. I didn’t want anything to happen to her.” 

“I know you didn’t, and I just had to call to say thank you,” his voice was soft and full of emotion, so much like Nat’s when her feelings were at the forefront. “I hope it doesn’t make me sound like too much of a crazy overprotective father calling about his 33 year old daughter, but I just love her so much and I worry about her.” 

Chris just laughed softly while climbing into bed, grabbing the phone and holding it with one hand while the other came behind his head as he propped himself up against the pillows. He knew what it was like to be worried about the people he loved, especially his family, and he knew that with Nat’s mother having been gone for almost her entire life, it was natural Eric would feel a little more protective and worried about his girls. But Chris found it anything but odd, instead finding it so endearing and loving the fact Nat had people in her life who loved her so deeply and told Eric, “I don’t think it sounds crazy at all. I’m so close with my family so I get being worried about them.”  

“I know that Nat can take care of herself, she’s certainly not helpless by any means,” Eric stopped to laugh, making Chris chuckle as well from knowing just how true that was. “But it’s nice to know that she has someone else looking out for her and taking care of her,” 

“Well Eric, I couldn’t agree with you more in the fact that Nat can take care of herself, but I don’t want her to always have to,” he knew how much he meant it. He didn’t want Nat to have to do everything alone and he wanted to do what he could to protect and care for her. “Besides, my Ma would be the first to say that I’m a bit of a control freak and anxious to a fault, so I couldn’t relax until I knew she was somewhere safe.” 

Chris smiled as Eric laughed at those words, knowing so badly that it just felt… right. And as they hung up and Chris went through the motions of getting ready for bed, he remembered how strange this stage of relationships used to feel, the awkward not-quite-dating yet stage before the we’re-doing-this one, but with Nat it all felt new and exciting. He didn’t dread returning to Los Angeles next month like he typically did, all because of her, his Nattie. He couldn’t wait to see her again, to hold her in his arms, and he couldn’t help but look at the clock as he laid in bed, counting down the hours in his mind until they were back together as he fell asleep. 

A/N: Genuinely.... we love them. And if you don't believe us, we wrote 62.5k words for them by the end of November. 🌯 is currently typing this on 11/30/2022, and we just cannot stop! We hope you love this, future-readers! Can't wait to read all your thoughts :)

ALSO We’re going to start posting updates TWICE A WEEK! So now every Monday and Thursday there will be an update! 

[shimmershy]

Hello! Uh, so, I know it was a while ago since it was published but since I’ve been meaning to write this for a while I figured what better time than now since it’s already the new year. I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed your undertale fic “There’s Only One Last Thing Left To say, This Time”. It actually makes me nostalgic to reread it as I first read it back in May of last year when I had actually only gotten into Undertale a few months before and it opened up a whole new world for me. I remember reading it for the first time and the description near the end when Chara tells Asriel they’ll miss him through Frisk and actually tearing up a little. You just. Captured the feeling SO well. And I could relate to Frisk’s feeling of not wanting to let go. Even rereading it now I get a bit teary. I remember thinking about it for days after reading it. I even loved it so much that I read it to my dad (before filling him in on the game lore) and he loved it too. Soo.. I guess what I’m trying to say is, thank you so much for writing it as well as your other fics, and thank you for creating the art that you do, and thank you for being you. You were one of the first artists I got into at the beginning of my Undertale obsession and have inspired me so much. I hope I can write and draw like you one day ^^

I very genuinely teared up while reading this, thank you so much..... It means a lot to me to hear you enjoyed the fic, and I really appreciate you taking the time to write such a nice message. :) It's such an unreal but cool feeling to hear something I created impacted someone's life in some way. Just that fact alone makes me so unbelievably happy! I guess it's just really cool to not only create something that means a lot to me, but to also hear it means something to someone else. That's like, the best feeling in the world!

I'm really glad you (and your dad!) liked the fic! Thank you for reading it, and thank you for being here. :) And I'm really happy to hear I inspired you. I hope you keep writing and drawing, because I'm sure you'll create some amazing things! I hope you have a wonderful day!

[autisticempathydaemon]

for your matchup game! thank you for doing these they look super fun though i’m sure you’re super busy with them lol!!

* my fave song in the last few weeks has been otherside which is a minecraft song. it’s got a sick beat drop and i like listening to it for focus music

* 2w1

* I don’t know about gargantuan BUT i do love a good video essay/deep dive. mike’s mics pretty little liars vids have been my go to the last few months

* i don’t actually remember having an imaginary friend :/ my parents said i had one, and most i can remember is we used to have tea parties

* i have to have asmr or some kind of ambient noise in order to fall asleep, and i also have to have my body pillow to hug or else i cannot sleep

* emily irene. it’s the name my parents were going to give me bc it honored their grandparents but my mom hated irene (my dads grandmothers name) so she refused. i’ve always wanted to change it to that.

* probably camping with your tsundere alpha werewolf boyfriend because it’s the first real time we’ve seen davey share memories about his dad in a peaceful way, which was really nice. also the scratch offs reminded me of my own dad bc it was something he used to do for me and my sisters and it made me cry after listening and i had to call him and tell him i missed him LOL

* james probably? i just haven’t rlly gotten around to listening to all of the audios with james anton and marcus yet (still p new to the fandom)

* howl’s moving castle

* damien. i think we could commiserate over a really nice chocolate cheesecake abt our mommy issues.

* internet drama i come across. i have a bad habit of digging myself down a rabbit hole of the most inane internet drama and then telling my best friend abt it when we’re both sleepy but not ready to SleepTM yet

* reese’s sticks and a dr pepper, or if i’m feeling savory it’s pringles and a dr pepper and if they have slushies/icees then it’s a cherry slushie/icee and whichever above snack i’m feeling

* i have a playlist called georgia peach which is a country music playlist i made of all the old music i grew up on. i like listening to it on warmer days when i’m on a drive

* a tie between the twilight movies and bbc sherlock but i feel like twilight is more um. socially accepted, at least on social media. bbc sherlock is only the first 2 seasons

* ummm i’m a libra. myer briggs type is infp. i’m autistic/have adhd. i have a black cat named pika whomst i love dearly, i used to love reading as a kid but i kind of fell off and i’ve been trying to get back into it recently, i’m a middle child, i like farming sim games and rpg games and narrative games (like telltale games) and romcoms and some light horror movies. my top 5 movies of all time are howl’s moving castle, pride and prejudice (2005), scream, pacific rim, and the princess bride. my top artist the last 7 years in a row on spotify was hozier. my current favorite author is emily henry. my love language for giving is quality time/gift giving, receiving is acts of service/quality time.

Anon, I am gently patting your cheeks, I adore you so. You’ve given me so much information to work with, and every bit that I got just further cemented my hypothesis that you’ve gotta be paired with Huxley.

Speed run, let’s go- Type Two’s are characterized by a desire to be loved and confident in that love; Huxley leaves no room for doubt. Your sisters would probably be protective and want the best boyfriend for you; does it get better than Huxley? You’ve got mommy issues; he’s got two amazing moms who’ll love you and heal them. You’re autistic; we’ve got proof Huxley’s awesome with autistic people (i.e Damien and Lasko).

You and Huxley would make each other so endlessly happy. I think both of you are big “Quality Time” people, so nothing makes you feel more loved than a simple, domestic weekend at home. Huxley loves those cozy, lazy days of cuddling your cat (which loves him duh) and reading together. The only kind of day he might like better is y’all going for a hike or leisurely drive together, singing along to country music on the radio. (He definitely has a soft spot for the same genre, having heard his moms listen to it when he was a kid.)

Song:

First time that I saw you, mmm/ You took my breath away/ I might not get to Heaven/ But I walked with the angels that day/ She takes me by the hand/ I am the luckiest man alive/ Did I tell you, baby/ You are the joy of my life?

Speaking of country, I love to imagine Huxley as a Chris Stapleton fan specifically. He’s just so quintessentially, classically country and writes the dreamiest love songs; I can totally see young!Huxley singing Tennessee Whiskey long before he ever drank alcohol. Now, he sings it and other Stapleton songs like this to you. (Badly, I might add. I like to headcanon that Huxley can’t hold a tune to save his life, but he pulls it off well.)

Runner-ups:

Asher would be a fun runner-up for you because I think y’all would have fun playing games, like next to each other and with each other, you know? Like, imagine running a Stardew farm with Asher; it’d be chaotic and amazing. I also like Lasko for you as a runner-up, because who better gets mommy issues than another person with mommy issues, you dig? /lh

note: Irene is such a cute name boooo anon’s mom /lh

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[gotham-daydreams]

Not sure how to word this adequately so I’ll just go for it. It feels like music is important to the reader as they are a musician. When I was younger my bio family made me play piano as it was classy instead of drums which they dubbed “too punk”. Of course now that I’m older and more free I turned back to drums and am a full metalhead. I like to imagine that once the batfam visits the reader they’ll be a little more free to do as they like, so I keep telling myself the reader won’t look the same at all, full on metalhead or punk. Like all those music posters when the reader was young was probably less thrash and more school appropriate. But now they’d just sitting there with corpse paint. Or something else that’s equally flashy. I like to think the family is just in utter shock, the difference between the more neat and classy child vs the reader now, with flashy hairstyles/ clothes and makeup. Maybe the reader is still writing songs but it’s all metal and their friends are not in a band with them. This is just a self indulgent headcanon because my closest friends introduced me to metal (once I immigrated to this country) and it felt weirdly liberating. Now whenever I visit my family in my home country they’re always in shock at how much I’ve changed. I like to think it’ll be the same with the Batfamily.

I honestly really like this interpretation! And love it a lot!

Whereas I can't say that the reader will turn full metal as I'd like to leave which style and such they're going for now up in the air, and leave that for you and others to decide, I can say that they will look different, as you've mentioned!

I won't press on it too hard in Part 3 but it is still noticeable, I'd say, and I will likely mention it but again- won't press to hard on it only because of what Part 3 really focuses on. Or! Maybe I will a little bit because of what part 3 is really talking about, or trying to further convey.

Regardless, I am very happy for you! The headcanon is very lovely <3

Oh! Right! I will also say that music does really play a huge part to the reader, and it is very important to them. Like others — fellow artists or not — it has gotten them through tough times, and while they did feel obligated to pick up certain instruments, others were purely for their own enjoyment. They find freedom in playing, but it also leads them to a new world - maybe even a better one that they're slowly pulled out of as the song comes to and end.

Again, I'm going to leave the style and specific genre up to interpretation, and honestly from now on might try to be more vague with the instruments the reader plays at certain instances, so that it can be easier for you and others to picture the reader playing whatever you think would fit the scenario.

Though as you've also said, I can say that the Batfam will be in shock, but I suppose that's already expected since, in the narrative, they no little about the reader as a whole, y'know? So just about anything will surprise them, but that's not necessarily a bad thing from the reader's side. Just a further wake up call, I suppose :]

Nevertheless, thank you very much for sharing your interpretation! I find it very touching and I appreciate it a lot. It's really cool, honestly!

[namor-shuri]

Did you see that recent post about your page? Antis are so funny 😭

I’m crying because after I posted that meme post yesterday, I was scrolling through the Nashuri tag and then saw it 🥴 I literally made a dumb meme joking about Antis saying we need to be locked up, and didn’t realize someone literally said that hours prior. It doesn’t get better than that rofl. What’s sending me was their initial outrage of Nashuri [which babe, have you been living under a rock?], then the assumption that I romantically ship Tenoch & Tish from a quick bio glance, THEN after all of the “horror” and “shock”, they proceed to not block me. You’re telling me you posted screenshots of you blocking my page to ultimately not…..block……me? Righhhhhhhttttttt *rubs temples*

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I literally don’t owe anyone this BUT this is for the folks that are new to my blog/Nashuri fandom/etc:

#1. Hey 💜 This is BOTH a Nashuri [Namor x Shuri] blog AND Tenoch Huerta + Letitia Wright appreciation blog. What does that mean? It means my blog is about anything related to A. Tenoch Huerta + his life/roles etc B. Letitia Wright + her life/roles etc and C. Their adorable dynamic together. It’s a hodgepodge of random stuff. One big ice cream shop where you can pick your flavor of choice. So Nashuri shippers interact with me, Namor fans, Shuri fans , Letitia, Tenoch and so on. You get the idea. I love how open-ended my page is and that’s why I made it that way in the first place. Everyone is welcome here and can walk away with a little bit of something. For being such a miscellaneous page, I would say the only “agenda” I push is Nashuri [it’s in my name]. The rest of my content is up to your own personal interpretation/assumptions. What you think I’m pushing or trying to say is all your take and your take alone, beloved. It has nothing to do with me.

#2. I admit that my mouth has gotten me in a little bit of trouble over the years lol. I was literally that little kid that came back with a report card with straight A’s that had a teacher’s note on the side saying “Talks too much in class”. I think and say shit ALL. THE. TIME rofl Yes, I sprinkle in deep rants and knowledgeable takes on my blog but I made this page to be a menace. I’m only here to be entertained. A majority of my page are jokes and tomfoolery. The complete opposite of “be for real”. How can I be when I’m literally shipping a fictional fish stick and a fictional woman in a cat suit?? 🤣 I’ve spoken about it before but I’m also an artist [my professional work is 1000% unrelated to this page/content lol] so alot of my page is also random graphics and stuff like that too. I love making y’all and myself laugh and it’s been enjoyable af interacting with you, especially the Nashuri fandom. Y’all are straight up comedians and say the funniest shit, which then makes me want to say even more wild shit and then it becomes a snowball effect lol. Thankfully I can tell a majority of you who do follow/interact with me are grown so you’ve picked up by now that most of my blog is A BIT. But unfortunately there’s always going to be a sprinkle of people who are clearly young, new here or just folks that don’t get my sense of humor whatsoever. And whichever category you fall under it’s okay, but babes there are a lot of 18+ jokes/comments on my page so if you are someone that is underage and or gets easily offended, please do yourself a favor and stay clear. I mean that in the nicest way possible.

#3. I wrote this on a reblog to someone’s post recently but I have a large portion of blogs blocked on the tags that I follow on here. Life has been ✨𝒷𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒻𝓊𝓁✨ ever since and it only takes .2 seconds out of your day to do it. So when I don’t see people utilize the block button, I just know their not being fr and are clearly bored. If you don’t like my content, block/mute me. Simple as that. Because chances are, I’ve probably already blocked you by now. And to the people I haven’t, I either A. enjoy/interact with the content you make or B. don’t care for it but you usually stay out of my lane and I stay out of yours so we just coexist. It’s that black and white. You don’t have to like what someone posts but what isn’t cool is bothering/targeting someone on an app strictly because of that. What are you five? This feels like a lesson we learned in elementary school. It’s not rocket science and it’s never that serious. The world does not revolve around you nor adhere to things only you deem okay. It’s much bigger than that. Get a grip, go drink some water, eat something and make sure to touch some grass today while you’re at it.

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Shout out to that page tho! I literally gained new followers after that, so…..thank you? 😅 What a time to be alive. But for real, ya’ll have been coming out of nowhere to support and it’s been super dope. I really appreciate all the love, especially for being such a new page. I’m looking forward to future shenanigans, continuing the fun and not taking shit too seriously per usual. Live your best life, folks. Don’t let anyone rain on your parade. Life is WAY too short for that.

Ps: To my new followers, check out the post pinned to my page here. It’s a great “intro” into the Nashuri fandom and or actors Tenoch Huerta / Letitia Wright. Some things might be a little old but it’s pretty useful for the most part. My old poll results post gives you a slight idea of me as well. See y’all around ✌🏾💗

[revanchistsuperstar]

holy hell, have I just had the throwback of a lifetime. dude, way on back when I was a confused unhappy little early-pubescent grub (11-14), I was obsessed with cosplay (still am) and would spend time religiously trawling deviantart and tumblr for crossplay advice, ways to bind and masculinize my face and walk and talk and comport myself more masculinely. I kept saying it was for character accuracy, but of course, there was more to it than that.

to shorten it all up, this tutorial of yours https://www.tumblr.com/revanchistsuperstar/70647041474/new-and-improved-ftm-crossplay-tutorial-if-you?source=share came up on my pinterest earlier and threw me back, after not seeing it for years now. I didn't even remember you were from middle tennessee! I googled the title of the tutorial to see if I could find the OG post, and was so glad to see you're still active on this account so many years later.

I just wanted to tell you that that tutorial was very impactful for me as a fellow southern queer kid. while I never did figure out how to make it work on my chubby, puffy little child face at the time (have gotten a bit better at makeup lately, still no pro but certainly better,) it was something to aspire to, and it was something that got me through a lot of waiting and confusion and self-discovery, knowing I *could* look like a man eventually, whatever that meant for me.

thank you for posting your tutorials online. I'm sure I'm not the only queer kid you've helped simply by being out and proud, but I wanted to tell you personally about how much you helped me survive puberty, the aspirations of passing, or at least being happy in myself regardless. I finally fully accepted myself at the end of last year, and came out to my parents early this year. It's been a lot to cope with, but life feels more promising now that I'm not hiding, and that I can seek medical transition knowing myself.

again, thank you so much for posting your tutorials. your pride has positively impacted me, and no doubt many others. I truly hope you've been well this past decade, and may the future remain bright for you. <3

Holy shit! Well way to go, and best of luck!

That tutorial is over 10 years old, that’s wild.

Believe it or not, I had my gender in no way figured out whatsoever when I was posting those, took me forever to realize what I had going on. I’ve been out as trans of some sort since 2011, but I only came out as a gay trans man and started medically transitioning a little over a year and a half ago.

But yeah I’ve been doing drag now for about 13 years! Vastly improved since the DeviantArt days lol. I now work professionally as a hair and makeup artist for stage and occasionally screen, so that’s what over a decade of plugging away at something can get you.

Glad the tutorial was helpful for you, being that it was one of the only masculinizing makeup tutorials out there on the internet at the time that I made it, its had pretty far reaching effects. Recently I’d been settling in to realizing that even though I’m only in my 30s, because I started drag in my teens I’m now becoming an elder of the drag king art form and as my co-producer from my drag troupe put it, I’m the Velvet Underground of drag kings. 🤣 But I’m glad it helped with your gender feels too!

Keep on keeping on!

[frothingatthemaw]

i think listening to albums in order is oftentimes really rewarding!! especially if the artist is more well. artsy. even on albums that arent artsy or conceptual or anything the track order could contain an emotional arc or something or just flow better. on albums that are artsy, track order plays a huuge role in the overall experience of the album! i tell you this not to berate you, but to guide you on a path i believe is far more scenic. (this was prompted by saying a song on the glass animals albums 'came on first' :) also sorry but i had to say this i love to listen to albums in order im obsessed with it a little bit and also i make mixtapes (mix cds really but mixtape has more of a ring to it) & i put a lot (usually at least a decent amount) of thought into the track order so this is something that's important to me ^_^.) (also also, this is slc punk anon, if you couldn't tell by my penchant for over-explaining. i swear i will respond to your last response to me soon! :3)

yeah!!!! this is what made me have my whole huge theory on the new glass animals album, i have a whole theoretical story on it :] like all of songs connect and are at least about one overarching person throughout the entirety of it. if that makes sense!

and also, yeah, this is exactly why my first listens are always listened from first song to last song, and not always shuffled the first time. i like to try and pick apart things. i’m always a little like “well damn :(” when i don’t ever catch any cohesion throughout an album lol

but i don’t do this past first listens because i think my brain would grow tired of songs way easier if i listened to it the same way every single time? i hope this is making sense to you!

i completely understand this reasoning though and i support it 100% <3

i would love to be able to make playlists in a way that the order matters, but i used to get super stressed at playlist making overall (i’ve gotten a bit better at this recently), so making it as cohesive as that would be simply A Lot for me. props to you for being able to do it, i respect it a lot!! i get you dude, i get it completely