#glad to get it out of my system :D

[five-nights-at-artsys]

speaking low, do what I'm told

[or: the former instructor learns something about the head technician.]

for Phone Guy Month, prompts 20 and 21 - Family/Friends and Truth/Lies!

Davis didn't realise how loud he shrieked as Foxy's hook grabbed his lower leg and tore a good chunk of flesh and skin from it. He didn't know what the hell it wanted to do to him, but it can't be good.

Things were a bit of a blur, for a moment. One second he's fighting for his life, and the next thing he knows, Foxy is lying there — deactivated, at least for now, his hook right next to his bleeding leg — and the night shift guard is checking up on him.

"Y-you okay there—?" Scott asked, approaching him.

"What do you think?!" he snapped. "My leg got fuckin' pierced— I could've died!"

"S-sorry, sorry— Just— L-look, uh, I-I'll patch it up— We have a medkit for these kinds of situations near here."

As the other man searches for the medkit, he let out a heavy sigh. "Just- Just grab the bandage and toss it to me. I'm not a kid, I can do this on my own."

". . . a-are you sure?" he said. "Look, um, just . . . let me help, o-okay? You're clearly—"

"It's fine." He grits his teeth. ". . . as fine as it could be anyways. But hey, 'least it wasn't—"

. . bad joke?

". . . p-please don't."

Bad joke. ". . sorry. Just— Needed to lighten up the mood somehow, y'know?"

Judging by the lack of response, the guard doesn't seem to think the same. And . . yeah, that's fair. Most of the older employees would rather not be reminded of the many, many past incidents at Fazbear's — Not even as a joke.

The guard quickly handed him the bandage, before looking at what remains of the near-horrific incident. Foxy's still lying down — right, Davis remembers now, he tased the damn thing (not his proudest moment, but it's either that or get hurt even more) — and, well, frankly, the backstage's even more of a mess than usual.

But instead of commenting like he had expected the man to do — he was always a bit of a chatterbug — he insteads picks up the lone camcorder on the floor.

. . wait.

Shit. Shit. He was supposed to record the maintenance session for their boss, but Foxy's attempted attack on him made him completely forget about that.

"Is- Is that thing still recording?" he quickly asked the other man. .

. . to no real response. ". . what even . . happened here . . ?"

". . Hello? Earth to Ralph, everythin' okay?"

Is he zoning out again? He can't imagine the night shift being particularly kind to one's health and mind. Especially here, with all the rumours of the damned place being haunted. . .

. . . and considering what he himself heard and saw before the attack, seems like not even people who wouldn't be in the night shift otherwise are safe, apparently.

(Is this place actually—

No, that's. . . That's silly.

that can't actually be his kid calling out to him, right?

god. god, he's so sorry, fritz, if that truly was him calling out to him.)

". . y-you know, Davis, you, uh, kind of sound like my brother. I never really noticed that."

. . .

Wait what.

Hold on, did he speak with his actual voice earlier–? He usually tries to fake it at least somewhat, especially around Scott — God knows what hell of a conversation that would arise, considering . . .

Davis could only really force a chuckle out of his mouth. “Really? Oh- Oh wow, must've been a—”

Ohhhh shit.

Ahem, his throat cleared, and a voice adjusted a moment too late. "—I- I mean—"

"Phillip, h-how long are you going to keep lying to me?"

. . .Ah.

Fuck.

There's no use doubling down at this point. Better to just get it over with.

"Look, Scott, I can explain—"

"Oh, c-can you?” Even with the stammer, it was clear as day that he was seething. "G- Go on! E-explain, then — Explain why y-you disappeared off of the f-f-face of the earth and- And then reappeared with a- a new identity and pretend you're somebody else—!"

"Whoa, whoa, Scott—" Davis Phillip backs away a bit — As best as he could when he now has a slight limp to his leg. "Listen, I'm sorry — I really am — but I've got my reasons, I—"

"D-do you?!" Scott yelled, holding back tears. "Do you now?! Wh-what is it?!” And that’s when he grabbed the older man by the collar of his shirt, and continued to cry and ask, "Tell me, what is it?!"

Phillip thought he had found the right words to say if a day like this ever comes. But with his younger brother's sudden outburst, he finds himself frozen in place.

How long has he been holding back all of that anger?

"I- I was just trying to find out—"

"It's- It's about Fritz, right? You're. . . still looking for him. .?"

". . you could say that." Phillip sighs. "It's more like . . I'm investigating this restaurant in general, but if I can find out what happened to him, that'd be great."

There was a long pause between his words. ". . . Foxy's not supposed to have any lines relating to a dad, right?"

". . no? I- I don't think we established any parents for Foxy, at least."

". . well, guess that answers it."

"Wait- Why'd you ask?"

Phillip quickly readjusts his technician uniform. Scott's not that strong, but apparently he's got enough strength to somewhat mess up the part of the jumpsuit that he grabbed earlier. "Take a wild guess."

The guard thought about it for a good moment or two, before the realisation dawned on him.

". . oh. Did. ."

The technician nodded. "Can't believe out of all the places that are rumoured to be haunted, this shitty pizza place's the one with actual ghosts."

He thinks he hears Scott mumble something under his breath, before looking back at him. ". . Oh, Phil, could I ask something of you?"

"Shoot."

". . can you . . . maybe try and keep this a secret?"

". . .Keep . . what a secret?" There's a lot of things you could talk about regarding tonight.

"Uh. Everything, preferably? Wh-what happened with Foxy, this conversation . . just. . don't mention it to anyone, 'kay?"

That's . . . a reasonable enough request, he supposed.

And yet, a sense of dread starts to form in the pit of his stomach. ". . why, though? It's not like anyone would believe some crap like, 'Ooo, I saw a dead kid's ghost and then one of the animatronics tried to attack me'! Right?"

". . doesn't mean it'd be. . uhm, great, if something like that ever comes to light. For the franchise, a-at least."

"This damn restaurant's circling the drain anyways! Who cares about a dumb rumour or two to the pile?!"

"Please. Just for once, Phil— Please just shut your mouth a-and keep a secret," Scott begged.

"And what if I don't?"

One of Scott's eyes start to twitch, just a little bit. ". . then. . well, I guess I'll tell Mr. Afton who you are."

Oh.

Oh God No. "Hey— Don't fuckin' snitch on me!"

"Look- H-how about we make a deal? I don't talk about who you actually are, and you don't talk about what happened tonight. Deal?"

The pit in his stomach is still there, very much so, but . . . he would really rather not want to deal with any bullshit that may come up from his real identity being revealed. So with a heavy heart, he answered, "Yeah, deal, whatever. I can do that, I guess. Just don't tell anybody else 'bout- Y'know."

". . don't worry about it. I could keep secrets well, I'd say." A faint, insincere smile forms on Scott's face. His own little way to lighten up the mood, when things were tense.

As Phillip leaves for home, a part of him still thinks about his brother's smile.

God, he's such an awful man.

[sysig]

Guess who :3c (Patreon)

[a-very-fond-farewell]

>.>

[munsonhoneybaby]

Too Much in Common | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader

Summary: After Dustin brings Eddie home for a D&D campaign, you find yourself enjoying his company more frequently than expected.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use (marijuana), smut, kinda automatic dubcon since they're both fried?, fingering, a lil praise, eddie’s just a lil obsessed

A/N: it hasn’t been explicitly stated yet but reader is adopted. hopefully i actually post a part two in a timely manner.

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

The rumbling of Eddie’s van ceased in the Hendersons’ driveway as he turned the key back in the ignition. He was surprised, however, when the metal thrum of a guitar continued despite his radio now being off. Opening his door, he recognized “N.I.B.” by Black Sabbath and realized it was coming from inside, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

He made his way to the front door, not bothering to knock beforehand since Dustin was expecting him and the kid’s mom wasn’t home. “Since when did you get a taste in music, Henderson?” He called over the music blaring from the sound system in the living room. A door around the corner slammed open much more forcefully than necessary and the aforementioned freshman barreled out of his bedroom. 

“It’s my sister!” He shouted back. “She said I could have you guys over while Mom is gone if I didn’t bitch while she was in charge, but APPARENTLY THAT MEANS MAKING ME GO DEAF!” 

Eddie could just barely make out your muttered “oh please” as you entered from the kitchen. You turned down the volume until the sound could be considered background noise. “If anyone here is gonna go deaf, it’s me from your constant shrieking.” Distressed jeans hugged the curve of your waist perfectly and the Poison t-shirt you had on looked soft from numerous wears. He tried not to stare, but he was sure he looked like a cartoon character– bugging, heart-shaped eyes and jaw hitting the floor. He almost missed it when you acknowledged him. “Munson. I heard you were still running Hellfire. Didn’t realize you’d be coming today.”

Oh fuck. You knew him. You knew him? How did you know him? Of course, you had gone to the same school, everybody in Hawkins did, but he would remember meeting a girl like you. Would you be upset with him for not knowing who you are? God, already embarrassing himself and he hasn’t even started talk–

“Relax,” You snorted. “I was a grade under you at Hawkins and I was homeschooled my senior year. We never talked, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me. I’m pretty sure everybody knows about you, though.” And this is when you tell him to get out of your house and stay away from your kid brother because he’s a drug-dealing, Satan-worshipping freak. “It’s nice you’re still running the D&D club, sounds like everything else there gets worse every year.” 

Some of the tension in his muscles slipped away and he realized he’d been subtly bracing himself. “Oh–” The doorbell rang and Dustin ran to get it, welcoming in Mike and Lucas who were already amicably bickering louder than necessary. Behind them trailed the two others they had ridden with, Jeff and Gareth if you remembered correctly. They seemed a little uncomfortable holding a session in a new house, but relaxed drastically when they set eyes on Eddie. “Uh– you guys can go ahead down to the basement with the freshmeat. I’ll be down in a sec, alright?” They nodded, waving politely to you before following the boys.

When they were gone, you and Eddie locked eyes again. “Seriously, I’m glad Dusty has someone watching out for him. He takes more shit than he deserves. Just try to be a good role model, alright? If I find out you give that kid Special K or some shit, it’s fucking over for you. Got it?”

“I would never let anything bad happen to those kids when they’re with me,” He spoke earnestly. “I’m gonna look out for them. If I’m ever gonna do anything right, it’s that.”

“I believe you, Munson.” You gave him a small smile and nodded towards the basement door. “You should probably get going. They can’t start the game without their dungeon master, right?”

An embarrassed flush fought its way up his neck to his cheeks as you turned towards the hall where your bedroom was. Before you could get more than a couple of steps though, he gently grasped your wrist. “Hey uh, by the way– I just wanted you to know that I don’t really– I don’t do any hard stuff anymore. Haven’t in a while. I hardly even sell it anymore and I stopped selling to first-timers.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, don’t worry about it. I totally get it, I just wanted to let you know; for your peace of mind, I guess. You deserve to know who your baby brother’s hanging around with, I don’t want you to think I’m too bad an influence.”

“I don’t think you’re too bad, Munson. Just a healthy amount.” You gave his own wrist a small squeeze as you slipped your hand from his and finally went back to your own room. He gazed after you momentarily, even after your door had closed. If the guys were still present, they would definitely be giving him shit.

As if on cue, he heard Dustin’s muffled shout from the basement. “Eddie, hurry the hell up!”

You were sitting on the front porch swing lighting a joint when his beat-up van pulled up two nights later. “Seek & Destroy” poured from his cracked-open windows until his door opened and he set foot on your driveway once again. “He’s not here, y’know,” You called to him.

“That’s alright, I actually just needed to–” Eddie was halfway between you and his van when he caught a whiff of a particularly familiar scent. A shocked, teasing grin slowly spread across his face. “Henderson, are you smoking marijuana right now?” 

In spite of yourself, you let out a laugh, coughing around a lungful of smoke in the process. “Say it a little louder, Munson, I don’t think the deafening Metallica got the neighbors’ attention.” 

Laughing, he dropped into the space next to you on the swing. “I didn’t peg you for the smoking type.”

“Oh, you mean from the three minutes we interacted?” You squinted playfully but held the joint out to him. “Just weed, I don’t fuck with anything else personally.”

He took you up on the offer, calloused fingertips brushing your skin as he took the joint from you. Examining it for a moment, he smirked as he took a hit. “Fuckin’ with it pretty hard, apparently,” He breathed out. “You roll almost as good as I do.”

“Good, then you can roll the next one.” It passes between you as you speak, though Eddie tries to keep his turns short out of courtesy. “Which brings us back to the topic of why you’re here mooching my shit. You said you needed to do something?”

“Right, I uh- I forgot my lucky dice here the other night. I figured I’d pick ‘em up on my way home from The Hideout.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re in a band or something, right?” 

“Since middle school,” He nodded, “Just me and a few guys from school, s’called Corroded Coffin.”

“Sounds metal.”

“We try to,” He chuckled.

“You like Black Sabbath and Metallica, you’d better,” You teased. You didn’t notice the way his eyes followed your every move as you smoked. The way your cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as you sucked in a hit, how your breath hitched and your eyes fell closed as you held it in. The corners of his lips curled up in amusement watching you blow Os while conversation lulled for a moment. Offering him one last hit first, you stub out the roach on the ground and stand from your seat. “C’mon in, you can go get your dice.”

“Thanks,” He hummed, grabbing the door as soon as it was open to hold it for you. 

“Have you eaten?” You ask, heading into the kitchen as he made his way toward the basement door. “I haven’t, I was gonna make a sandwich or something. You want one?”

“That’d be great, actually, thank you.” The dice weren’t hard to find seeing as he’d left them there on purpose. So maybe it was a little weird, definitely a little desperate, but he wanted to make sure he had another opportunity to see you– get his foot in the door, so to speak– and he really hadn’t expected all this. He’d hoped you’d be the one to answer the door and he’d get to make small talk for a few minutes, point out your shared taste in music maybe, but this? Catching you alone, sharing a joint, getting invited in for something to eat? This was going better than he could’ve possibly expected.

“Find ‘em?” You called down.

“Yup!” He jogged back up the stairs, waving the small velvet bag as he joined you in the kitchen. “All good.”

“What a relief. Can’t have the dungeon master thrown off his game, that would be a travesty.” You glanced up at him mischievously as you finished making the first sandwich, scooting the plate across the counter to him.

Eddie suppressed a smile, shaking his head as he picked up the sandwich. “You just love teasin’ me with that, don’t you?” He asked before he took what was probably an unattractively large bite.

“Depends on what kind of teasing we’re talking about, Munson.” You drawled casually in return, turning to continue making your own. Meanwhile, it was an effort just for him to keep his food in his mouth without choking on it. You were flirting with him.

Weren’t you? Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d meant it the other way around– that you’d only tease him in a joking way and that you’d never want to–

“Eddie, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears,” You snorted. “Stop thinking so hard, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” You took a big bite before grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Want one?” His answer was going to be yes, but you were grabbing him one before he had responded anyway. There was a brief and fairly comfortable silence as you cleaned up the rest of your small mess and he took a few long swigs of his water. “Wanna finish these in my room? We could smoke another joint maybe…just chill out, I don’t know…”

“Yeah, totally,” He agreed, maybe a little too eagerly.

“You’re rolling though,” You remind him over your shoulder as he begins to follow you to your bedroom.

The door creaked as you opened it, waiting for him to enter after you so you could close it. As you opened the window wide and lit a stick of incense, he took in his surroundings. Your room wasn’t like the average teenage girl’s– not that Eddie had seen very many of those– not pastel-colored, or frilly, or covered in heartthrob posters, though a few stuffed animals were perched tenderly on your bed. Actually, it was almost more like his, albeit much more organized. There were posters of horror movies and rock bands filling a decent amount of the empty space on your walls, the Dio flag pinned to the ceiling drawing his attention. “Oh, that is so sick!”

“I thought you might like some ‘a this stuff,” You laughed softly. Nodding towards the stereo in the corner, you continued, “You can put something on if you want.” He squatted down to look through your cassettes, hearing your voice move through the room as you got out your bud, tray, and paper. “Try to keep it understated though, alright? Nothing too hard or fast right now.”

“Really tryin’ to mellow out tonight, huh?” He began playfully, but looked back at you as his tone softened a little. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, I’m alright,” You reassure. With the cassette in place, he made sure the volume was low before it began playing softly as you spoke. “I just get a little too pent up sometimes, you know? Everything’s just been kind of a lot lately, ‘s why I was already smoking when you showed up.”

“Hey, I can beat it if you want. I didn’t mean to show up outta the blue at a bad time and I definitely don’t have to stick around if you don’t want me here. I can totally get it if you want the time to yourself–”

“Please stay,” You quietly interrupted, then seemed a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t– I’d appreciate the company if you wanna stay a little while.”

Eddie gave you a comforting smile before taking a seat at your vanity to roll the joint, trying to lighten the mood. “Careful what you wish for, Henderson. I mean, you’ve got good music, good weed, made me dinner; I might be hangin’ around here more often with this kinda treatment. You’ve got me livin’ the life, babe.”

Laying down on your bed to watch him, your voice was more serious than he expected when you replied. “You’re welcome any time, you know. Mom likes when the house is busy and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Dustin practically worships the ground you walk on.” His rings glinted in the lamplight as he carefully sprinkled the bud onto the paper.

“Yeah? And what’s your review, hm?” You didn’t mean to stare at the way his lips wrapped around the joint or how his tongue traced the seam of the paper to seal it.

You hummed vaguely as he finished up, gently plucking it from between his fingers when he was done. Dramatically inspecting it much longer than he had yours, you finally say, “You roll clean joints.”

He shakes his head and laughs. Your lips close around the paper, feeling the seam still damp with his spit, and you jut your chin toward his lighter on the vanity. Grabbing it without a word, he leans forward to give you a light. Your gaze catches on his rings once more before lifting to his face again. A reflection of the flame makes the brown of his eyes warmer as they lock with yours, looking up from where you still lay on the bed on your stomach. You take a long pull as he draws the lighter away again and the spell is broken.

Sitting up to breathe the smoke in deeper, you tuck your knees under you. Eddie joins you on your bed, but not before he kicks off his shoes by the bedroom door. He sits cross-legged just in front of your pillows so you shuffle around to face him. “So, how was your concert?”

He snorted, “Concert might be a bit heavy. Gig is a little more accurate. Show maybe.”

You roll your eyes, but keep your tone light and pass the joint. “You’re a loser, you know that? You knew exactly what I was talking about, answer the question.”

“It was pretty good I guess,” He shrugged and took a long hit. “I think there may have been a whole seven people this time. And one of them was even sober!”

You smiled sympathetically, “You’re just in the wrong town. Don’t worry, I’ll come watch you play. I don’t know if that’d be a good atmosphere for the boys, but I could probably force Steve, Nancy, and Robin to come.

He twisted one of his rings around his finger for a moment. “That’s really nice, sweetheart.”

With each toke you both took, the joint burned slightly shorter until it was almost completely gone. “You want the last hit?” you asked. “I finished the last one. And you rolled this one anyway.”

“No, that’s alright. It’s your weed; I’m literally a drug dealer, I’ve got plenty at home.”

“Here,” You took one last long drag and he raised an eyebrow in confusion, but he understood when you sat up further on your knees and leaned toward him. A sense of giddy excitement overtook him for a second, nerves probably heightened from the weed, but he kept his composure. When your lips slotted over his, he took a deep breath in. His hand slid into your hair to keep your head steady as you sighed the smoke into his mouth. Your lips grazed over his afterward, very obviously lingering long after it was necessary. You giggled as you slumped down into a laying position, letting your head fall back into his lap.

“Seems like someone’s a lot more relaxed now,” He cooed playfully.

“Sorry, I can get off ‘f you–” He notices how your voice is slightly rougher after smoking so much.

“Hey, no–” His hands settle warmly over your shoulders, not holding you down so much as they were encouraging you to stay put. “It’s alright, baby. You can get comfy, you’re not bothering me.”

His hands soothed up and down your arms as you settled back in. “That feels really nice.” You hummed quietly and it drew out into another giggle, “Everything feels really nice.”

He laughs a little airily himself, “It does, doesn’t it?” Your skin felt so soft and warm beneath his fingertips, tracing imaginary shapes along the bare flesh of your arms. “‘M feelin’ pretty good, myself.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his pretty pink lips again. They’d felt so soft against yours and you wanted more– to really feel him this time. His thumb brushes your chin, dragging down in a way that had your mouth opening slightly. “What’re you thinkin’ so hard about, sweet thing?”

Blinking up at him with glassy eyes, you raised an arm to brush your fingers over his flushed cheek. “Eddie, c’n you kiss me? Please?”

“Yeah?” He moved his thumb a bit higher to tug your lower lip down a bit, face dipping down a bit closer to yours. “That what you want?” You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, making him chuckle quietly. 

He allowed his lips to graze teasingly over yours, just barely touching, before finally kissing you. His nose brushed your chin and you could feel the small smile adorning his face before your lower lip was sucked softly between his. Fingers winding into his mess of frizzy curls, you moaned quietly into his mouth and pulled him closer. After another moment though, he slowly drew back, lips separating from yours with a soft smack that made you unreasonably desperate for more.

An ache had sparked in his lower back while loading the amps into the van after their show earlier that evening, deepening as he proceeded to help load the rest of the equipment afterward. Now the deep curve he had molded it to in order to keep his mouth on yours had the pain radiating up his entire back. “As much as I’m enjoying this– and believe me, babe, I’m seriously enjoying it�� my back is kinda killin’ me and hunching over you like this…” 95% of his brain was screaming at him to shut the fuck up, to ignore it and just keep kissing you breathless anyway, but the other 5% was crying out to lay down and he had to listen.

“Oh, sorry,” There was a slight pant in your voice as you released your grasp on his hair. He sat up slowly as if a movement too fast would shatter the calm in the air. You sat up yourself, watching as he eased himself back onto your pillows. “S’that better?”

“Way better,” He confirmed. “We can uh- we could keep kissing if you want.”

Openly cringing at how awkward that sounded, he opened his mouth to say something else before you interrupted him with a still-sluggish giggle. “I’d like that, Eddie.”  

“Okay,” He nodded rapidly. 

Leaning forward onto your hands and knees, you crawled into his lap. His hands instantly settled on your thighs, running up and down the material of your pajama pants. His eyes flickered wildly over your body a few times before gazing up at you in awe. You didn’t waste any time in kissing him again, which was much easier now that he wasn’t upside down. As you moaned into his mouth, his hands molded to your hips, squeezing and pulling you as tight to him as he could get you. His tongue slipped between your lips, making them open further as your hands found his hair once again. 

He didn’t mean to start moving, slowly grinding into you in an attempt to relieve the tightness in his jeans that definitely wasn’t a problem before he came over— but then you were rocking down on him yourself, clothed cunt rubbing against him in a desperate search for friction. Hips rutting up into yours, he braced a palm against your lower back. You could feel his hardness pressing into you through the layers of clothing between you. Pulling back for air, you panted into his mouth, still subtly grinding against him. “Fuck,” He grunted quietly. The soft whimper of his name that you gave him in return made his head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Got me so fuckin’ hard, sweet thing. Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t wanna stop,” You whined back quietly. “Feels so good.” 

“Good,” He cooed. “Don’t worry, ‘m gonna keep makin’ you feel good.” Hot, open-mouthed kisses moved down your neck and you let out a moan. His fingers wormed their way past the hem of your shirt, tracing the cup of your bra. “This okay?” He mumbled against your skin. Nodding, you cupped his hand and guided it higher until he pushed your bra out of the way. The pad of his thumb brushed firmly over your nipple, making your hips jerk against his. “Mmm, so sensitive. Is that jus’ the weed or are you always like this?”

“Both,” You breathed out. “‘N you’re good at all this.”

“Aw you don’t have to butter me up, baby,” He grinned. “I’m gonna make you cum either way.” Free hand dipping past the waistband of your pajama pants, Eddie continued playfully, “But, go on. Keep tellin’ me how much I turn you on.”

“Eddie,” You pleaded, “C’mon.” 

Fingers stroking the damp fabric of your underwear, he asked, “This okay? Really want me to touch you?” Your desperate nods made his lips curl, pressing more firmly against you and drawing out a moan that you tried to stifle. “No, no, no, you gotta tell me how it feels, sweet thing. We’re all alone, you can make those pretty noises, it’s okay.”

Your head slumped into the crook of his neck, mouthing lazily at his skin. Nudging your underwear to the side, he sank his middle finger knuckle-deep into you. Grasping tightly at the worn material of his t-shirt, your breath hitched. “Mmm, fuck– yes, Eddie, thank you.”

“Look at you, usin’ your manners ‘n everything. Of course, you would. Such a good girl.” Your moans only grew louder, making his hips jerk in search of friction. “So warm and wet, bet you’d feel so good around my cock.” Lifting your head to kiss him again, your hand found the shape of his length in his jeans. He rolled his thumb over your clit in circles as his hips rocked against your palm. Mouths open against each other’s, you exchanged panting breaths and muffled moans. Confined by your pants, his hand didn’t have much room for movement, leaving your hips stuttering frustratedly. “Lemme get these off’a you, babe. Can make you feel so much better than this.”

Suddenly, his hand was curled under your thigh and you let out a small squeal as you were flipped onto your back beneath him. Your pants and underwear were yanked down your legs feverishly, Eddie parting them to slip two fingers into you this time. “Shit, Eds!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Immediately, he tried to withdraw his hand, but you gripped his wrist to stop him. 

“Don’t stop, Eddie. Please, don’t stop,” You rushed.

“Alright, sweetheart, ‘m right here. Don’t worry.” Your hands laced into his hair for stability as his fingers crooked into a spot that almost made your eyes cross. Already dripping onto your bedspread, you pulled him even closer to you. Smirk spreading across his face, he said, “Oh yeah. That’s the spot, huh, baby?”

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re gonna make me come,” You whined.

“Good, want you to soak my fingers.” His hips rocked forward, clothed cock grinding into the back of your thigh. “Wanna feel you come for me.” The way his thumb rubbed so firmly against your clit had heat shooting all the way to your toes. Desperately tugging him down for another kiss, your thighs trembled as they squeezed closed around his hand. “There it is,” He murmured lowly against your lips. “Mmm, you’d feel so fuckin’ good coming around my cock, sweet thing.” The deep cadence of his voice had you shaking.

Grasping at the back of his shirt, you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He held you in silence for a long moment until your head eventually dropped back against the bed. A smile slowly grew on your face as you looked up at him and you let out a small giggle, making him grin down at you. He laughed softly too as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

Eyes darting shortly to the alarm clock on your nightstand, you did a double-take when you noticed how late it was. “Son of a bitch, my mom’s gonna be home any minute!” You grabbed your discarded underwear and pajama pants from the foot of the bed as soon as Eddie had peeled himself off of you. “Uh– fuck, I’m really sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to invite you in just for this, I just didn’t realize how late it got. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, but–”

“Are you kidding?” He was already leaning against the wall by your door, slipping on his beat-up air forces. “I had a blast, babe. We should do this again sometime,” He winked teasingly.

You rolled your eyes half-heartedly, feeling your body warm. When the two of you reached the front door, you rubbed your arm and met his eyes only a bit awkwardly. “I’m sorry again about not…returning the favor.”

He chuckled, giving you a small smirk. “Don’t worry about me, sweet thing. After tonight, I’ll have no trouble taking care of it myself.” Taking a step closer to you, he leaned down for a kiss that was much slower and softer than the last few you’d shared. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Night, Eddie. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

“Anytime.”

You waited at the door until he’d gotten in his van and driven away before finally heading back to your room. As soon as you closed your bedroom door and flopped down on your bed, you heard your mom’s car pull into the driveway. Meanwhile, Eddie drove home, foot a little heavy on the gas pedal as he itched to get back to his own room.

He didn’t see you again for two weeks. He knew the Hendersons’ phone number, but there was no way he could ask for you if Dustin or your mom picked up. So he waited, very impatiently mind you, and hoped he hadn’t ruined things by going so far with you so fast. 

When he did finally see you, it was at Hawkins High School. You’d come to pick Dustin up from that week’s Hellfire club meeting. You knocked on the door before entering, knowing that– despite the session being scheduled to end ten minutes ago– they often ran over their allotted time. Sure enough, you heard Eddie’s booming voice as you cracked open the door and slipped inside.

“And as the chimera flew closer–” When he noticed you he immediately straightened from his position looming over the table, clearing his throat and clasping his hands together behind his back. He didn’t want to scare you off with all this yet. “Okay gentlemen, that’s all for today.” The collective groan they let out had you feeling a bit guilty, they’d obviously been enjoying themselves, and now you were being the annoying big sister; you should’ve just waited in the car. But Eddie was quick to speak again. “Oh, cut the moaning. We’re almost fifteen minutes over and you all need more time to prepare for battle anyway. Amateurs.”

As the others all packed up their things, he approached you and you greeted him with a smile. “Sorry for interrupting, seemed pretty intense, I hope it wasn’t too important.”

“No, no, it’s good you came in. We would’ve been all caught up until someone else came in to stop us in a much less forgiving manner.” You both laughed and it went quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat again. “So uh, I’ve been hoping I’d see you around.”

“Yeah, me too… Smoking alone isn’t as fun anymore.”

His lips quirked up into a smirk and he nodded playfully. “Yeah, ‘ve been thinking the same. You should start buying from me, you know. I’ll give you a discount.”

“Oh, so I have to pay you to smoke with you again? You know, we used my shit last time,” You teased.

“You’ll never pay for anything you smoke when you’re with me, sweetheart. I’m a gentleman after all. Here, hang on.” He dashed back to the table, hunching over to write something down before tearing off the small scrap of paper and coming back to you. “Now you can get a hold ‘a me, come smoke all my weed anytime.”

“Oh, I’ll be taking you up on that.”

Your comfortable conversation was interrupted when Dustin shouted your name. “What’re you doing? Let’s go!”

“I’ll see you around, Munson.”

“Sure thing, Henderson.” 

As you drove Dustin home, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad idea to get involved with Eddie. He was one of Dustin’s best friends now, a mentor for him, one of the only male role models he’s had aside from Steve since he lost his father. The last thing you wanted was to make Dustin feel like you were taking that away from him. God forbid something should happen between you and Eddie and he doesn’t feel comfortable coming around anymore. You couldn’t do that to him. 

Still, you found yourself hunkered over the phone in the living room that night. You tried to hold out, you really did, but you only managed to hold yourself back until almost midnight after your family had gone to bed. Coiling the cord around your finger, you waited impatiently as the phone rang three times.

When he finally picked up, you could hear the smirk in his tone. “Hi, sweet thing. Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Well, I figured I was running low on bud anyway,” You drawled quietly. 

“You’re awful quiet,” He teased. “Don’t want Mommy to catch you up on the phone so late?”

“Fuck off,” You scoffed playfully. “If you’re having so much trouble hearing me over the phone, why don’t you come over?”

“Oh, so she minds a phone call, but it’s okay if we have a sleepover?” He snorted. 

“No, but if you’re quiet you can sneak in and back out before she wakes up to get ready for work. I’ve got twenty bucks calling your name,” You cooed enticingly.

“Seriously?”

"Come on, Munson, you've never climbed through a girl's window before? I'm disappointed."

He simply replied, "I'll be there in fifteen, make sure it's unlocked."

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

<3

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[calcifiedunderland]

Part I, Part II (Here), Part III (COMPLETED)

Note: thank you all so much for the support!! I’m glad you all like it, here’s the next part :D

Taglist: @recreyomakesdoodles, @aruis4nosleep, @tinseltina, @ibby-miyoshi-nerd, @takitafulily, @viperwhispered, @peeisgood, @twistedcece

Warnings: Food/eating, rizz (yes this is a warning), terrorized by flamingos in Trey’s part (never thought I’d write that but here we are), cooking burns

—————————————————————————————————🐙♣️🐍

Despite Jamil’s long-winded convincing, you decided to help him with the food later on. Your mind wandered to the upcoming History of Magic test, the one on Atlantica magical history. Mentally, you kicked yourself for missing Azul’s meeting. Sevens could only help you now if there was some clause in your deal about tardiness or skipping.

Taking a deep breath, you stopped in front of the Octavinelle mirror, before plunging in. To your surprise, Azul was waiting for you. He looked up from his watch with a charming smile and an analytical look in his eye. “Prefect!” You smiled sheepishly at him, “I’m sorry about rescheduling, will this be a problem?” Azul waved you off, “of course not! Although I will need compensation for your time.” “O-of course…”

A small chill went through you, in part because you really didn’t want to owe Azul anything, and also because… “It’s chillier in here than I remember, Azul.” “Oh, is it?” Suspiciously unbothered, Azul shrugged off his blue Dorm Uniform shoulder coat, gazing into your eyes as he settled it around your shoulders. Your face flushed at the gesture, feeling warm.

“I apologize, Prefect. Perhaps the cooling system malfunctioned.” You wrapped your fingers around the collar, pulling it closer around you, “Don’t you need this?” Azul smiled charmingly, wrapping an arm firmly around your shoulders, guiding you into the Lounge, “I’ve endured colder temperatures in the Coral Sea, this is manageable.”

He walked you down the hall, taking a longer route to avoid the dining area of the Lounge. And also to spend more time with you. This passed through the aquarium parts of Octavinelle. You watched the fish swim by, fascinated, while subconsciously leaning closer to Azul as you ambled. “Y’know,” you said idly, watching a pink octopus sail through the water, “I’ve always liked looking at the tanks here. It’s…” your mind wandered to Heartslabyul beheadings, “peaceful.”

Azul’s smile sharpened to a sly smirk. “Oh?” He tapped his octopus-headed cane against the floor, “you’d always be welcome here. As a guest, or otherwise.” You frowned slightly, wondering what he meant, “I don’t like the sound of-!”

Discreetly, Azul swapped the cane to his other hand, closer to you, and blocked your foot. You stumbled, distracted by the tanks and his words, but before you could react, two arms wrapped around your waist and back.

“Please be careful, Prefect.” Azul caught you in a dip. You were all but pressing foreheads together, your wide eyes meeting his ocean blue ones. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, pearl.” He pulled you up in one fluid motion, still keeping his arms around you firmly. He brought one hand up to your cheek, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. You were taken aback by the genuine charming smile he gave you, looking into your eyes, “and I do mean that you’d be welcome anytime as my personal… companion.”

He let go of you, leading you to one of the private booths at the VIP area of the Lounge. You heard the murmur of the rest of the dining area, but otherwise it was peaceful here. You slid into the booth, settling your things down. However, before you could get your books out, Azul stopped you, pushing up his glasses. “There still is the subject of payment. Perhaps we can… work out an arrangement?”

Tension filled you. Before you could open your mouth, Azul snapped his fingers. You were startled to see Jade rolling out a food cart, laden with silver-covered dishes. Azul cleared his throat. With a flourish of his magic pen, he began setting the table before your eyes, silverware and napkins floating before you.

Azul held (probably) your plate, and you watched him in awe. You could only watch, bewildered, as he removed the cover with a flourish. It revealed a very fancy pasta dish that was definitely above your nonexistent paygrade under Crowley. The dish was simmering in a beautiful sauce that seemed to sparkle on the plate, garnished with a small sprig of rosemary. Large pink shrimp glistened in the dim light, curling up between sauce-coated pasta dusted with fresh herbs. The salty, buttery scent of seafood made your mouth water, but you held your composure.

“Azul, you didn’t have to-“ You were cut off by a fancy fruit drink sliding across the table, Floyd grinning at you. Azul smiled smugly as the twins stood beside him, “please, I insist! You are my guest, are you not?” Jade hummed, “This is Mostro Lounge’s hospitality!” The twins stood on either side of Azul, and the three of them looked intently at you, waiting. You hesitantly sipped your drink - somehow, he’d gotten your drink preferences just right. It wasn’t too sweet or sour. It was even garnished with a mint leaf.

Azul sighed heavily, suddenly acting woeful. “I went through all this effort to have this prepared personally for you, only for you to deny it…” As if on cue, Jade sniffled, “Has the hospitality of the Lounge finally run out…?” Floyd opted to just stare at you, wide eyes staring straight into your soul as if to make you feel bad. And it worked.

You bit your lip, “well, I guess…” “Wonderful!” Azul immediately shifted, all smiles. “Now, we can study in a bit, I have a few more platters coming later. For now, let’s go over the beginnings of Atlantica history…”

Seven courses later, you could sufficiently say that not even Grim had ever been as full as you. Azul had prepared several Italian seafood dishes for you, ranging from shrimp pastas and whole crab legs that were as long as your forearm, to large red lobster tails with buttery sauces and more mussels than you could slurp down.

In between courses, you and Azul went over topics he knew Trein would test you on, pacing you so you wouldn’t be too full or too hungry. Still, it was a lot. You groaned, leaning back on the couch. “Ugh, I can’t eat another bite…” Between the leftover curry Jamil gave you earlier and Azul’s meals, you couldn’t even move.

Azul hummed, nibbling some grilled chicken, “was there a specific dish you liked in particular? I plan to add new dishes to the menu, and I’d like your input. Consider this compensation for missing our meeting yesterday.”

Odd compensation indeed. Was this the same devious schemer who make so many students work for him as anemones? Still, you wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “Sure… thank you, Azul. This helped me a lot.” By now, you felt much better about the test - he’d even pulled out his own from last year (of course with full marks and extra credit).

Azul nodded, taking your empty plate away. “Of course, I’ll always help out a soul in need! And it’s not often I personally entertain guests.” He looked away, staring at his gloves, “For you, I’d make an exception.”

You may have been grateful for all the food, but even you could tell when Azul was showing himself up for something. Still, as housewarden and the leader behind Mostro Lounge, you still felt touched. “I appreciate it,” you said evenly, meaning it, “thank you.”

A self-assured smile grew on Azul’s face as he handed you a decadent dessert, watching your expression carefully as you dug in, “The pleasure is all mine.”

—•—🐙🐍♣️—•—

You blinked blearily at your phone beeping on the nightstand. You huffed, sitting up in bed. It’s still dark out, you thought, Jamil seriously does this every day?

After meeting him in the cafeteria, you promised you’d help Jamil taste test some foods for Kalim. You couldn’t lie, you felt flattered he trusted you with the task - he was always meticulous with Kalim’s foods. It was alarming how many times Kalim had been poisoned, so Jamil handled his dishes almost every day. Your heart went out to the guy - Jamil probably gave Vil and Jack a run for their madols with how early he woke up to prep food. He’s easily one of the busiest people on campus, you thought.

After getting ready, you headed to the Hall of Mirrors into Scarabia. You swung the kitchen door open, noticing Jamil already had a pot boiling merrily on the stove. The fragrant smell of curry and spices filled the air. Despite your tiredness, you smiled.

“Prefect, you’re here,” Jamil offered you an easy smile. He tossed his bangs back with a flick of his head, and you snorted, “dramatic much?” He rolled his eyes, but you caught the smile on his face. He turned his attention to the simmering pot, stirring it with the wooden spoon. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he confessed. You angled your head, putting on an apron he set aside for you, “Why wouldn’t I?” Jamil chuckled to himself, crossing his arms, “I just meant that it’s early, and… I appreciate your company.” You beamed at him, face feeling rosy, “Well, I don’t mind it. I wanted to help you, after all.”

Jamil smiled and picked up some curry sauce with a spoon. “Here, try this.” He put his hand under the spoon to your lips, fingers barely grazing your chin, standing close enough that you could feel his breath. You flushed at the closeness, but it left as you tried the curry. You hummed at the curry’s taste, closing your eyes. “Mmm, delicious,” you licked your lips. The curry was perfectly creamy and spiced, and warmth spread through your chest. You missed the fond look Jamil gave you, his eyes darting to your lips before clearing his throat.

“I was about to prepare some pita, would you like to help?” Your eyes lit up, and you nodded, “of course!” A few minutes later, you were carefully rolling out the pita dough as Jamil observed you. As you rolled out the dough, it started sticking to the rolling pin. You frowned, and Jamil walked over to you from his chopping board.

“Here, like this.” He took some flour and sprinkled it on the board, before standing behind you. He reached under your arms and removed the dough from the rolling pin, before setting it on the flour and placing your hands on the handles. “I’ll show you,” he said softly in your ear, the two of you almost cheek-to-cheek. You weren’t sure if your body felt hot from his closeness or the stove heat.

He gently put his hands on the rolling pin handle atop yours, rolling out the pita dough firmly. You moved forward a bit, face burning. You tried to focus instead on how Jamil was rolling out the dough, and at last he removed his hand. “Do you understand now?” You nodded rapidly, zeroing in on the dough and trying hard not to make eye contact. Jamil’s grey eyes bored into your figure, and he took a small step to you when the door slammed open.

“Jamil!~” Kalim streamed in, beaming, “I’m back from club activities! I- Oh, hello (Name)! What are you doing here?” You and Jamil sprang away from each other, and you forced a calm look, “hey, Kalim-“ Jamil cut in, putting a hand on your forearm, “They were helping me prepare food, I asked them to.”

Kalim nodded, grinning, “sounds great! It smells amazing, I can’t wait to try it! I’ll get the dorm together!” Before you could politely decline, he sped off to who knows where. Jamil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, “My apologies, Prefect.” You laughed, feeling flustered, “Its fine,” you cleared your throat, muttering, “its a bit warm in here…” Jamil rose an eyebrow, “I can open a window if you’d like?” You nodded. As cooler air rushed in, you mused to yourself, “Its funny how the dorms are all different. Its hot in Scarabia, and cold in Octavinelle.” Jamil frowned, “That’s… specific.”

You elaborated, “I was there yesterday, Azul was helping me.” Jamil’s eyes narrowed, and he nonchalantly turned to the pita cooking on the stopetop. He flipped one with his hands, feigning concern as he looked back at you, “Are you sure Azul had good intentions? I don’t want you being tied into a contract.”

You waved him off, “Don’t worry, we worked it out! I made sure he wasn’t asking for anything too great.” At Jamil’s silence, you continued, “Its fine, Azul was helping me study for my History test, the one I had a few days ago. You know how Trein is.”

Jamil turned his attention to the pita, thinking back to last winter. Azul doesn’t offer his help on tests without some payment, and going by last winter, he might’ve made (Name) work with him without pay. Or at the very least, might have made a pass for Ramshackle. But you weren’t stupid, Jamil thought. Just horribly dense at times.

If you said you didn’t owe him anything too great, then perhaps Azul’s scheme was still underway. Still, Jamil would keep an eye on you.

“Yes, I understand,” he nodded, finished cooking the last pita and turning the stove off. “Still, I do hope you’re taking care of yourself. You helped me tremendously today, Prefect,” Jamil crossed his arms, angling his head to look at you. “I’m glad I could help,” you chuckled, taking the apron off, “anyway, I’m sorry I can’t stay longer. Ace and Deuce said Heartslabyul was running behind on Unbirthday Party preparations, and I promised Trey I’d help with the baking.” Jamil nodded, before grabbing some food containers.

“You should take some of this,” he began ladling curry into one container, and pita into another. You protested, thinking about the food containers packed away in your fridge from Azul that you’d barely made a dent in, even with Grim’s help. “Jamil, really, its fine-” He cut you off by putting them in your arms, “I insist. You helped make it, it’s only fair you take some back.” You went quiet for a few minutes, staring into Jamil’s eyes before murmuring with a small smile, “alright. Thanks, Jamil.”

—•—🐙🐍♣️—•—

Finally, you could relax now!

Your History test went well thanks to Azul’s tutoring, and you could rest easier since Jamil gave you some extra food from cooking for Kalim. Somehow, Jamil’s cooking got more delicious after each meal! And soon, you could get dessert from Trey!

The unbirthday party Trey invited you to was tomorrow, but the third year wanted some help baking a few last-minute pastries. You felt bad about having him make a second trip to deliver them. That basket was no joke - it was heavy with breads, croissants, a few muffins, and even Napoleon pastries and strawberry turnovers dusted with powdered sugar and frosting. For Trey to take it to and back, twice, all for you? You were very happy, and so was Grim.

So, when Trey asked for some help, you didn’t mind at all. He’d tell you what to do, and you’d do it - hopefully sneaking a few bites of dessert under his and Riddle’s eyes.

You knocked on the kitchen door before entering. Trey looked over, as did Ace, Deuce, a few first years. “Prefect,” Trey smiled at you, crossing his arms. He looked back at the group, “Once you’re done with that, make sure you set up the tables for the party. No slacking, understand?”

“Yep, sounds good!” Ace quipped before clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Heard you and the Vice-Housewarden are gonna be bakin’ together!” Ace smirked, “try not to miss me n’ Juice while we’re out wrangling the flamingos!” Deuce shook his head with a frown, “don’t tease them, Ace. Good luck with the baking, Prefect,” he smiled at you, before a shiver ran down his and Ace’s spines.

“You two aren’t slacking off so soon, right? The Housewarden won’t be happy.” Trey seemed to loom over them, a stern look in his eye seeming to pierce them. “No, sir!” the two of them scuttled out of the kitchens, while you stared wide-eyed at Trey. You weren’t used to him being so serious. Trey looked over your shoulder at Ace and Deuce leaving. Ace turned, flashing Trey a thumbs up and blowing Trey a mock-kiss, while Deuce smacked his shoulder and pulled him off. “Um, Trey?” you asked. His attention snapped to you, and he gave you an easy smile, “Now then, ready to start?”

You nodded quickly, “S-sure, I’m glad I could help. What should I do?” Trey thought, then took out a piping bag, “I thought I’d have you make a few things on your own. How does that sound?” Your eyes widened, “but-!” he handed you the piping bag with a mixing bowl. He looked at you gently, “It won’t be too difficult, and I’ll be here to help you.” He gently grasped your hand, and his eyes softened. “Just follow my instructions.” Your face warmed. You nodded.

Following his instructions were easy enough, and soon you were piping some madeleine cookies onto a sheet while Trey went to go get more flour from the stockroom. As you stepped back, admiring your work, you heard Trey walk back in. “Prefect, could you get the measuring cup?” You looked up, suddenly gasping. “Trey!”

Trey walked in with a massive 20 pound bag of flour over his shoulder. The bag was at least two feet long, and his arm wrapped around the large base of it to keep it stable. You dropped the piping bag, about to rush over, but he chuckled and waved you off, “I carry flour bags this heavy all the time back at the bakery, even heavier.” He calmly walked to the table and set the bag down, scooping out flour.

You eyed him, relenting since he didn’t seem to be struggling, at all. You handed him the measuring cup, and went back to the cookies while Trey sifted the flour. You hummed as you placed them in the oven, hands on your hips, admiring your work. You glanced over at Trey, who was now rolling out a thick dough.

He’d rolled up his sleeves to show off his forearms and parts of his biceps, and despite yourself, you stared. Damn, no wonder he didn’t have trouble carrying that bag. Trey’s arms were very built. His biceps bulged and tensed as he expertly rolled the dough into thin sheets.

Trey was a pretty tall guy, but it never crossed your mind that he was that strong, especially now as he delicately folded cold butter into the dough sheets to make puffed pastry. He carefully handled the dough, then went back to firmly rolling it out into thin sheets again. Your mind wandered, and you found yourself (respectfully) staring at him, watching his focused expression.

You averted your eyes when he finally glanced up, fixing his glasses, “everything alright?” You coughed, “Yeah, I got some flour up my nose.” He chuckled, fixing his glasses. You cleared your throat and went to the oven to check on the cookies, and you missed the way his expression softened at you.

The timer went off, and you cleared your throat, “I’m going to take the cookies out, Trey,” you called. You slid your mittens on, and opened the oven. Hot air rushed into your face, and you took a step back before carefully taking out the first tray. You’d made two trays of cookies, and because of the oven’s size, you’d had to put one behind the other.

You set down the first tray, and moved to carefully take the second one from behind. You’d just wrapped your fingers around the base when outside, you heard Ace and Deuce yell. You thought nothing of it, when suddenly something crashed through the kitchen doors, making both you and Trey jump.

“HEY! GET BACK HERE!” A pink flamingo barreled into the kitchen. Ace and Deuce ran in. You yelled in pain, dropping the tray back onto the oven shelf, yanking your arm out. When you were startled, you’d jumped and grazed your lower arm on the hot wire oven shelf. An angry burn mark appeared on the bare skin on your arm. While the three of them cornered the flamingo, you quickly grabbed the tray of cookies and shut the oven off before it burned down the dorm. You breathed heavily as Ace wrapped his arms around the bird, and he and Deuce apologized over and over. Trey led them out, and you examined your arm.

“(Name)?!” Trey rushed over to you. By now the pain was a dull throb, but Trey still took your wrist gently and examined your arm. “Are you alright?” He asked calmly, although you knew better from seeing the panic in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m okay, I got startled with the flamingo while taking out the cookies.” You nodded to the two trays, one slightly more cooked than the other, “They’re both fine, though.” Trey frowned, “what about you? Let me wrap your arm.”

You shook your head, “It’s just a little burn Trey, nothing-” “Sit, (Name).” Trey pulled out a stool, and you sat down, not bothering to argue. He took a cookie, now cooled, off the tray and handed it to you. You wordlessly took it and munched on it. You began to feel better as the sweet taste melted in your mouth. Trey opened a cupboard, taking out some medical supplies, and began applying a salve. You hissed when it touched your burn. “I’m sorry,” Trey began wrapping your arm with a bandage.

You laughed awkwardly, feeling the tension thicken, “This seems like a lot for a little burn.” Trey chuckled, “I wouldn’t want it to get worse. After all, I can’t have my favorite baking assistant get hurt.” Your face warmed as you made eye contact. Trey smiled fondly at you. “Want another one? It’ll make you feel better,” he waved another cookie at you, and you took it, averting your eyes shyly.

“You seem like you know what you’re doing,” you said. He nodded, putting the supplies back. “Sometimes my little siblings get hurt while baking, so I’ve done this before.” He rolled up his sleeves to show a three inch burn scar on his upper forearm, “I’ve gotten a few myself, so I know they hurt.” You gently touched his scar, making his eyes widen. You cleared your throat, pulling your hand back.

“A-anyway,” Trey looked over at the baked goods, “I think that’s enough for today. This is good for tomorrow,” he smiled at you. “You’re free to go, Prefect, you should rest.” You nodded, feeling tired from the day’s events. As you gathered your things, Trey stopped in front of you. You grinned, taking the box from him, smelling the cookies and cake through the lid.

You didn’t miss the soft look from Trey as he gently rubbed your upper arm, “this is for you, see you tomorrow for the party.” He winked, and you felt your face flush.

As you walked to Ramshackle, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Trey: Hey

Trey: Don’t forget to brush your teeth after eating! See you tomorrow :)

You sighed, laughing to yourself as you walked into your dorm.

————————————————————🐙🐍♣️

lmao while i was writing Trey’s part, ‘tray’ kept autocorrecting to ‘Trey’

Thank you all for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it, likes comments and reblogs are forever appreciated! I love reading your comments, esp the chaotic ones lol

The next part should be the last one! Take care shrimpies~~~

[the-pudding-is-a-lie]

The idea for this one has been marinating in my head for quite some time now. Glad to finally get that out of the system. I did a greyscale version of this one a couple days ago but decided to colour it after all, I am glad I did. The other one is underneath the cut. :)

By the way, I am currently open for commissions! :D

[image ID: A digital drawing of Jiang Cheng from MDZS/The Untamed. In one arm he is holding young Jin Ling (toddler), in the other hand he is holding an umbrella. It is raining heavily. Jiang Cheng is looking at his nephew with a font expression while Jin Ling reaches for the umbrella in wonder for the world. End ID.]

[physicallyimprobable]

what's the 3-dimensional number thing?

Well I'm glad you asked! For those confused, this is referring to my claim that "my favorite multiplication equation is 3 × 5 = 15 because it's the reason you can't make a three-dimensional number system" from back in this post. Now, this is gonna be a bit of a journey, so buckle up.

Part One: Numbers in Space

First of all, what do I mean by a three-dimensional number system? We say that the complex numbers are two-dimensional, and that the quaternions are four-dimensional, but what do we mean by these things? There's a few potential answers to this question, but for our purposes we'll take the following narrative:

Complex numbers can be written in the form (a+bi), where a and b are real numbers. For the variable-averse, this just means we have things like (3+6i) and (5-2i) and (-8+3i). Some amount of "units" (that is, ones), and some amount of i's.

Most people are happy to stop here and say "well, there's two numbers that you're using, so that's two dimensions, ho hum". I think that's underselling it, though, since there's something nontrivial and super cool happening here. See, each complex number has an "absolute value", which is its distance from zero. If you imagine "3+6i" to mean "three meters East and six meters North", then the distance to that point will be 6.708 meters. We say the absolute value of (3+6i), which is written like |3+6i|, is equal to 6.708. Similarly, interpreting "5-2i" to mean "five meters East and two meters South" we get that |5-2i| = 5.385.

The neat thing about this is that absolute values multiply really nicely. For example, the two numbers above multiply to give (3+6i) × (5-2i) = (27+24i) which has a length of 36.124. What's impressive is that this length is the product of our original lengths: 36.124 = 6.708 × 5.385. (Okay technically this is not true due to rounding but for the full values it is true.)

This is what we're going to say is necessary to for a number system to accurately represent a space. You need the numbers to have lengths corresponding to actual lengths in space, and you need those lengths to be "multiplicative", which just means it does the thing we just saw. (That is, when you multiply two numbers, their lengths are multiplied as well.)

There's still of course the question of what "actual lengths in space" means, but we can just use the usual Euclidean method of measurement. So, |3+6i| = √(3²+6²) and |5-2i| = √(5²+2²). This extends directly to the quaternions, which are written as (a+bi+cj+dk) for real numbers a, b, c, d. (Don't worry about what j and k mean if you don't know; it turns out not to really matter here.) The length of the quaternion 4+3i-7j+4k can be calculated like |4+3i-7j+4k| = √(4²+3²+7²+4²) = 9.486 and similarly for other points in "four-dimensional space". These are the kinds of number systems we're looking for.

[To be explicit, for those who know the words: What we are looking for is a vector algebra over the real numbers with a prescribed basis under which the Euclidean norm is multiplicative and the integer lattice forms a subring.]

Part Two: Sums of Squares

Now for something completely different. Have you ever thought about which numbers are the sum of two perfect squares? Thirteen works, for example, since 13 = 3² + 2². So does thirty-two, since 32 = 4² + 4². The squares themselves also work, since zero exists: 49 = 7² + 0². But there are some numbers, like three and six, which can't be written as a sum of two squares no matter how hard you try. (It's pretty easy to check this yourself; there aren't too many possibilities.)

Are there any patterns to which numbers are a sum of two squares and which are not? Yeah, loads. We're going to look at a particularly interesting one: Let's say a number is "S2" if it's a sum of two squares. (This thing where you just kinda invent new terminology for your situation is common in math. "S2" should be thought of as an adjective, like "orange" or "alphabetical".) Then here's the neat thing: If two numbers are S2 then their product is S2 as well.

Let's see a few small examples. We have 2 = 1² + 1², so we say that 2 is S2. Similarly 4 = 2² + 0² is S2. Then 2 × 4, that is to say, 8, should be S2 as well. Indeed, 8 = 2² + 2².

Another, slightly less trivial example. We've seen that 13 and 32 are both S2. Then their product, 416, should also be S2. Lo and behold, 416 = 20² + 4², so indeed it is S2.

How do we know this will always work? The simplest way, as long as you've already internalized the bit from Part 1 about absolute values, is to think about the norms of complex numbers. A norm is, quite simply, the square of the corresponding distance. (Okay yes it can also mean different things in other contexts, but for our purposes that's what a norm is.) The norm is written with double bars, so ‖3+6i‖ = 45 and ‖5-2i‖ = 29 and ‖4+3i-7j+4k‖ = 90.

One thing to notice is that if your starting numbers are whole numbers then the norm will also be a whole number. In fact, because of how we've defined lengths, the norm is just the sum of the squares of the real-number bits. So, any S2 number can be turned into a norm of a complex number: 13 can be written as ‖3+2i‖, 32 can be written as ‖4+4i‖, and 49 can be written as ‖7+0i‖.

The other thing to notice is that, since the absolute value is multiplicative, the norm is also multiplicative. That is to say, for example, ‖(3+6i) × (5-2i)‖ = ‖3+6i‖ × ‖5-2i‖. It's pretty simple to prove that this will work with any numbers you choose.

But lo, gaze upon what happens when we combine these two facts together! Consider the two S2 values 13 and 32 from before. Because of the first fact, we can write the product 13 × 32 in terms of norms: 13 × 32 = ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖. So far so good. Then, using the second fact, we can pull the product into the norms: ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖ = ‖(3+2i) × (4+4i)‖. Huzzah! Now, if we write out the multiplication as (3+2i) × (4+4i) = (4+20i), we can get a more natural looking norm equation: ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖ = ‖4+20i‖ and finally, all we need to do is evaluate the norms to get our product! (3² + 2²) × (4² + 4²) = (4² + 20²)

The cool thing is that this works no matter what your starting numbers are. 218 = 13² + 7² and 292 = 16² + 6², so we can follow the chain to get 218 × 292 = ‖13+7i‖ × ‖16+6i‖ = ‖(13+7i) × (16+6i)‖ = ‖166+190i‖ = 166² + 190² and indeed you can check that both extremes are equal to 63,656. No matter which two S2 numbers you start with, if you know the squares that make them up, you can use this process to find squares that add to their product. That is to say, the product of two S2 numbers is S2.

Part Four: Why do we skip three?

Now we have all the ingredients we need for our cute little proof soup! First, let's hop to the quaternions and their norm. As you should hopefully remember, quaternions have four terms (some number of units, some number of i's, some number of j's, and some number of k's), so a quaternion norm will be a sum of four squares. For example, ‖4+3i-7j+4k‖ = 90 means 90 = 4² + 3² + 7² + 4².

Since we referred to sums of two squares as S2, let's say the sums of four squares are S4. 90 is S4 because it can be written as we did above. Similarly, 7 is S4 because 7 = 2² + 1² + 1² + 1², and 22 is S4 because 22 = 4² + 2² + 1² + 1². We are of course still allowed to use zeros; 6 = 2² + 1² + 1² + 0² is S4, as is our friend 13 = 3² + 2² + 0² + 0².

The same fact from the S2 numbers still applies here: since 7 is S4 and 6 is S4, we know that 42 (the product of 7 and 6) is S4. Indeed, after a bit of fiddling I've found that 42 = 6² + 4² + 1² + 1². I don't need to do that fiddling, however, if I happen to be able to calculate quaternions! All I need to do is follow the chain, just like before: 7 × 6 = ‖2+i+j+k‖ × ‖2+i+j‖ = ‖(2+i+j+k) × (2+i+j)‖ = ‖2+3i+5j+2k‖ = 2² + 3² + 5² + 2². This is a different solution than the one I found earlier, but that's fine! As long as there's even one solution, 42 will be S4. Using the same logic, it should be clear that the product of any two S4 numbers is an S4 number.

Now, what goes wrong with three dimensions? Well, as you might have guessed, it has to do with S3 numbers, that is, numbers which can be written as a sum of three squares. If we had any three-dimensional number system, we'd be able to use the strategy we're now familiar with to prove that any product of S3 numbers is an S3 number. This would be fine, except, well…

3 × 5 = 15.

Why is this bad? See, 3 = 1² + 1² + 1² and 5 = 2² + 1² + 0², so both 3 and 5 are S3. However, you can check without too much trouble that 15 is not S3; no matter how hard you try, you can't write 15 as a sum of three squares.

And, well, that's it. The bucket has been kicked, the nails are in the coffin. You cannot make a three-dimensional number system with the kind of nice norm that the complex numbers and quaternions have. Even if someone comes to you excitedly, claiming to have figured it out, you can just toss them through these steps: • First, ask what the basis is. Complex numbers use 1 and i; quaternions use 1, i, j, and k. Let's say they answer with p, q, and r. • Second, ask them to multiply (p+q+r) by (2p+q). • Finally, well. If their system works, the resulting number should give you three numbers whose squares add to 15. Since that can't happen, you've shown that the norm is not actually multiplicative; their system doesn't capture the geometry of three dimensions.

[luckycharms1701]

Oh, please, I must know now… Donnie during mating season??? :D I’m loving ur writings about this :)

alright you thirsty purple fans, it’s time!

sidenote: i am. so glad. that people are enjoying these. they’re a lot of fun to write!

double sidenote: i have added a link to my masterpost to all my bayverse mating season headcanons! you can also find them here

sooooo donnie. he's a freak in the sheets, you cannot change my mind. so especially strong spicy warning for this one 🌶️

Donnie is extremely matter of fact about mating season. The first time he brings it up with you, he’s more nervous about your answer than he is shy about explaining what it entails. (You couldn’t hear the words, but you did hear him muttering to himself before he came up to ask you. You suspect it was a pep talk.) He is very thorough when explaining mating season in general and how it affects him in particular. You are grateful and also a little turned on by the time he’s done.

Before you were in the picture, Donnie used to work himself until his system overloaded and he passed out during this time. Now he finds himself working a lot less, because he has you to focus on. He appreciates that you make him spend more time on leisure and don’t let him overwork himself. He also appreciates that you do let him work at least a little when the desire hits. Getting to cuddle with you is a surefire way to get him to rest when he needs it though. As long as you’re nearby, he’s happy to do whatever.

Donnie is a talker in general, but it gets ramped up to 100 when it’s his season. Unless his mouth is busy doing… other things… it’s basically a 24/7 stream of consciousness fest. Mostly it’s about you. How much he loves you, what in particular he loves about you, how exactly he wants to make love to you. His morning star, his starlight, his celestial beauty. Sometimes, though, he’ll interrupt himself to talk about something that just occurred to him about one of his projects. It never fails to pull a laugh out of you and make him rub the back of his neck in (adorable) embarrassment.

He enjoys physical affection and often seeks it out from you, and this holds true during his season. He won’t whine or get grumpy if you don’t want to be touching him all the time (*cough* like his brothers will *cough*), but he does prefer if you’re in contact with him somehow. He enjoys watching movies with your head on his lap and your hand in his. He especially likes it when you're on top of him.

Donnie is used to just taking care of himself whenever necessary, AND he is used to handling delicate things during his season. So there is a lot of gentle manhandling when the time comes. You can't do anything particularly engaging because he will come up and interrupt you whenever to have sex. IF you are wearing clothes at all (not often), you cannot wear underwear or pants, at most a skirt. That way he can just lift it up and enter you whenever the urge hits. He is especially fond of doing this when you're sitting on his lap while he's working (... "daddy's little cockwarmer").

Having you around does not mean that all of his toys go unused, oh no. He is very considerate, and would rather resort to them when you're getting rest. (He got your permission to stare at you while you slept and he used his toys. So considerate.) He also came up with some new toys that the two of you can use together. Having toys custom designed for your pleasure? Well. It really adds to the experience of mating season.

He likes to take his time and study you. He is always coming to you with a new experience he wants to try. He does get a lot of pleasure out of trying new things, but he mostly just wants to know how you'll react. He is intimately familiar with your body and how it reacts, and he wants to see if those reactions hold true when different stimuli are applied. His prodigious brain is always working. He particularly likes when something catches you off guard and a surprised gasp comes out of your mouth.

Donnie is not overtly possessive, even in his season. But there is always one hickey very carefully placed somewhere noticeable that you can't cover easily. He knows just how much force to use to leave an imprint of his hands without hurting you more than you enjoy. And if he catches someone looking at you? You will probably be walking a little funny the next day. When he ties you up (he enjoys tying you up. a lot.), he'll take a minute to sit back and observe you, pleasuring himself to thoughts of how you belong to him the same way he belongs to you.

When his season is over, his favorite thing to do is cuddle with you while the both of you sleep it off. He won't leave the bed, not even to work, until he deems you fully rested. (He will work in bed while you sleep on his plastron though.) His second favorite thing to do is bathe you. He takes his time to make sure every inch of you is clean and cared for. It's a lot like going to a spa, because Donnie did a lot of research into spas so that he could replicate that experience for you. And if you give him a little pampering in return? You'll get to hear him chirp and churr in complete satisfaction.

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

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic

[dragonmama76]

Working on part 2 of Beginnings, but until then here’s a small interlude. You can read the first bit here Part One

“Are you excited to start high school?” Steve feels like every lame adult he’s ever known, but he’s been wanting to have this conversation for a while now, preferably before his gang of nerds walk unprepared into his alma mater.

“I mean, sure.” Dustin says. “They have an amazing media lab and the AP science teachers are supposed to be really good. It’s never too early to think about college! Uh, sorry Steve.”

“Alright, shut it. If I had a brain like yours maybe I’d be in college now.” Steve rolls his eyes affectionately.

“And I heard Nancy say there’s an after-school club for D&D, so that might be okay. I mean, it won’t be as good without Will there but…” Mike trails off, a frown settling on his face.

“Yeah, okay I guess your demons and dingbats thing could be good.” Steve feels vaguely uneasy. Something to do with that club...it probably doesn't matter.

“Well, I’m also trying out for the basketball team.” Lucas adds softly.

“My man!!” Steve grins and holds his hand up for a high five. “I’m around if you want to get some practice in before tryouts. And I've got an in with the coach if you want me to put in a good word for you.”

“Nice! I'm always up for more practice!" Lucas grins back matching Steve's enthusiasm.

"And nepotism," retorts Dustin.

"Okay, brain boy. I don't know what that is, but it sounds gross and we don't have it." Steve smirks and cocks his head before remembering this was supposed to be a serious conversation.

"Anyway...I just wanted to talk to you guys about sticking together and always having each-other's backs." Steve starts and Dustin, of course interrupts, "Obviously, Steve. Who do you think we are?"

"No, man, I know. It's just that it can be pretty intimidating and the bullying can be...more intense than what you're used to in Middle School." Steve conceeds.

"Like you'd know anything about being bullied!" snorts Mike, "You were the bully."

"Uh...well." Steve doesn't want to scare the kids, but he does want them to be prepared. "I was kind of an asshole for a while..."

"Ya think?" Dustin chimes in.

"Shut up and let me talk!" Steve says in his best mom voice. "I had to learn to be harder in school. My freshman year this older kid made me his target and it was pretty awful. It got so bad I didn't even want to go to school half the time."

"That really sucks, man." Lucas gives Steve a supportive look.

"Aw, what, did he call you names? Make fun of your hair?" Mike sneers. He can't help but run his mouth sometimes. He likes Steve well enough, but not like Dustin and Lucas do and he can't stand how they worship him sometimes. Steve isn't that great.

"Dude. He pulled a knife on me for like, no reason. I was fourteen."

"Woah" Dustin just exhales. "So like, is high school....dangerous?" All three boys are seriously paying attention now, eyes wide.

"Nah, not normally. Anyway, it got better once I was deep in with the guys on the basketball team. So I'm just saying. Find a group that has your back. And you guys look out for other kids too, all right? And tell ME if anyone bothers you. I've got a bat that can sort them out."

"Dude....you can't just nailbat a teenager." Dustin snorts.

"I dunno, squirt," Steve ruffles Dustin's hair and he yelps ducking away, "If I find out anyone is messing with you guys....well, maybe not the nail bat, but just...promise to tell me okay? I don't want anyone of you going through what I did."

"We promise." They all chime dutifully.

"Hellfire!" Mike shouts as they all turn to look at him like he's got three heads. "What?" he says, "That's the name of the club."

"Hellfire." Steve mutters. Why does that name make his stomach hurt? He'll probably remember later. Meanwhile he's glad his twerps are going to have a good support system when they start school.

Read Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Tag list (ask if you want to be tagged for the full part 2) @swimmingbirdrunningrock @phirex22 @lilpomelito @thaliaisalesbian

[togglesbloggle]

In Defense of Bad Things

'Bad' here meaning mostly 'amateur'; stuff made enthusiastically by people at an unprofessional level. Art with visible gaps between what the artist imagined and what they achieved, products of flawed craftsmanship. I suppose everybody can appreciate them to some extent, it's a rare parent that doesn't put up their kid's drawings on the fridge in one way or another. But it turns out to be a fully general skill you can cultivate, and the more I do, the more I'm glad I did.

Partly, it's the teacher thing; finding delight in amateur work is one of the ways to find delight in the process of learning. Cultivating a love of striving-qua-striving can help make you a force for good in the world, as people start to feel safe trying to do things when you're around, even when their efforts are wobbly. You get to participate a little more in the process of atoms spinning themselves into ideas, even when there aren't any illusions about whether you're helping cultivate some revolutionary genius in the field.

And partly it's a fabulous way to build community. By necessity, our professional-level skills tend to be at the service of other people, performed for economic benefit; that's kind of how you get professionally good at something in the first place. When we're acting for our own sake, and among friends, most of what we do with one another is amateurish. I only cook middling-okay, I can't hold a tune that well, I'll never be a speed runner for anything. If you can only enjoy singing from the hundred best singers in the whole world, manufactured and polished by major studios, then you and your friends will sit shoulder-to-shoulder and passively listen to music. But it's so much richer an experience to sit face-to-face, actually singing together, even badly; you expose yourself to so many new ways to appreciate and respect one another, building relationships on what you've accomplished and not just by witty criticism or liking the same things.

And partly it's because some of the most powerful and innovative artistic experiences are in high-churn environments with low expectations and low barriers to entry, if only because those catch the passionate and driven young people that have been otherwise overlooked by our systems. The golden age of webcomics meant that a ton of the actual art involved was pretty lousy, but it also produced work that people still talk about today. D&D began as a profoundly unpolished collection of handmade rulebooks sold at cons in a plastic baggie. By the time these products of enthusiastic amateurs filter themselves through various levels of popularity and absorb mainstream cash influx, they're often risk-averse and missing a lot of the bold spark that inspired their fans in the first place; others will simply never drift towards the mainstream at all. I'm not saying you should be the person who goes out to dig through the slush piles of the internet looking for overlooked art, unless you want to be-- but sometimes a work of actual staggering genius also happens to be a Supernatural fanfic by a first-time author who's a little hazy on commas, and if that's a dealbreaker, you're going to miss out on some profoundly valuable experiences.

And hiding behind all of these things is, like...

Our appreciation of beauty has an odd structure, right? When things are done very skillfully, by brilliant artists with years of training, we can usually appreciate those accomplishments. And when we're looking at nature without human influence, and especially when we think very deeply about natural processes and understand them in context, we often rediscover that sense of beauty. There's just this bizarre hole in the middle where we declare things 'ugly'; as if a little skill is worse than none at all.

I really don't trust that gap. It feels like a trick my brain is playing on me, you know? It has me suspicious that a lot of what I consider 'ugly' or 'bad' is not a very direct experience of the world at all, or an informed judgment. That it is, rather, a declaration of (self-, social-) identity; a desire to be seen as a person of good taste, or as somebody who does things well, or just more primitively as one of the monkeys who is in the good-stuff-tribe and not one of the monkeys who is in the bad-stuff-tribe.

[yanaleese]

Karma with an artist y/n! Like they draw or paint him a lot! His reaction? :D

Hii!! Your story and oc's are so interesting and cool!! (>_<)

AAAAAAAAAAAA tysm!!! I'm glad you like my characters <3333

I think Karma with an artist MC is a very compatible dynamic! The fact that his love, his Xaxi is drawing him not once - not twice - but a million times?!? Ooh, I can imagine his heart swoon. Whether you give Karma a sticker, a stickman, or just photos of him is enough to make him happy for the rest of the day.

Now I know as artists, we can be very private about our drawings and our drawing space. Well, unfortunately, Karma would be coming in your room every second to check up on you (as an excuse to keep looking at your cute face). But luckily, you can ward him off with (1) cleaning duty (2) less sex/cuddles/quality time (3) less time to pamper you silly! And when I mean "pamper you silly" - I mean serving you breakfast in bed, massaging your feet, and doing pillow fights in the morning!

Also, I can imagine the backstory behind cleaning duty. When he first saw you draw him, he had to be like "huh??? me??? draw??? handsome???" - he was so shocked. And then I can imagine MC asking him to do cleaning duty, and OOP - he couldn't believe how much mess there was in your artspace. After helping you out, he was so disturbed at the amount of crap you had to clean he makes sure that he cops out at the last second. Or if you do really need it, he just does the entire thing; that way, you don't hear him grumble and complain LOL

Another idea I have in mind is him being just as possessive as you with your drawings (if you are). For example, if you want nobody to disturb you, he'll literally create a groupchat or a broadcast list with the entire family to kindly shut up and let you draw in peace with some funny lines LMAO e.g. "guys, Y/N is drawing. Let the genius do their work".

After that, I can imagine him happily putting your drawing all over his socials and EVERYTHING. As soon as you post it, he reblogs, comments, and bombards that art to infinity. Plus, he might auction it and/or hack the system to display your art as ads LOL

Lastly, for the digital artists out there - I can imagine Karma just oogling and staring at your computer while you're getting food or something. Plus, he'll be your body pillow as you draw! So if you fall asleep, you can sleep comfortably and peacefully <3.

[snapscube]

Hey Penny. Between you and a couple other sources, I've been getting really into FFXIV. There's no chance I'm going to be able to catch up before Dawntrail. I'm still doing post game ARR getting ready for Heavensward, but I'm still having a blast and have been bugging some friends to play with me, so thanks for getting me into a new hyperfixation I guess.

YEAAA im so glad to hear it! sincerely do not worry AT ALL about catching up before dawntrail. there's still gonna be a lot of new stuff once the expansion launches for u to enjoy like the visual update and the system changes to glamour! just keep taking the progression at ur own pace! :D you'll get there eventually and youll be glad you took ur time, trust me as someone who chose to take TWO YEARS to catch up to shadowbringers haha. it was so much slower than i had any reason to take it, but it was all worth it cause pacing myself out to my own taste allowed me to savor the journey. and the game really is ABOUT the journey. it's absolutely not one of those "the game begins at max level" kind of MMOs.

hope u continue to love it and that u can find some friendlies to play with too!!

[littlecrittereli]

YOU CANT JUST POST A CHAPTER LIKE THIS AND JUST- ENDED IT LJKE THAT???? WHAT KIND OF CLIFHANGER IS THAT- I AM DYING- HOW AM I GONNA WAIT FOR A FULL WEEK UNTILL THE NEXT CHAPTER SHEJDJZKEJ-

Fr tho i loved this so much thank you and i can see why u liked it alot like when i tell u i imagined everything in great detail like it was the coolest movie ever in my head i freaking did like omg that was one of my favourite chapters in like all of au-

On a second note imma gonna drop my speculations here bcuz i fr wanna yap abt this cuz its just too good i gotta get it outta ny system lol do ignore it since its not imp

So since the 2 figures that talked/made eye contact w martin and aviva has a mask that resembles other wild cats they r working with big d over here im guessing they are either passed out/ been kidnapped by force (for martin in guessing he got drugged) it would be kinda ironic how the falcon that should be aware of everything beside him got drugged. now i think Dora's cousin took those too specifically is 1 aviva is the master mind he can get her(by force obv) to make those prototypes real for martin i think he took him outta revenge since our boy is who threw him out of a plane and he is prolly gonna torture him or hold him hostage untill chris has no more fight than him and finally surrenders or just a cruel joke as chris already has no regard for his life so he took what made him still believe theres hope still just to let him know whos in control bcus this guy has no mercy at all or maybe jimmy comes up clutch and either get chris not to fall somehow or find where aviva and martin are.

AHHHH IM SO GLAD!!!! I HAVE BEEN LOSING MY MIND OVER CHAPTER 7 FOR LIKE 4 WEEKS NOW......and im so glad i finally get to share it beCAUSE SO MUCH CHANGES FOR THE PLOT AND I FINALLY GET TO TALK ABOUT IT HEHEHE Also yes the irony of Martin and his falcon suit... Though I've been hinting since the summary of the fic, (actually long before that, since the beginning of Reprogrammed) but really emphasizing it in Decoded, that Martin has some issues when it comes to taking care of himself. While Chris' complete lack of self preservation is a recent development, Martin's has been taking root since childhood and as such isn't as noticeable. He's the oldest sibling, he's the team leader, he prioritizes others above himself because it's all he's ever known. And while there's nothing inherently wrong with that, he takes it to the extreme and becomes neglectful of himself.

And with Chris needing more support than usual, Martin's self-neglect is becoming more apparent...

I would also like to take this moment to point out ahem... Martin never broke his promise.

Martin squeezed his shoulder before letting go. “He won’t be taking you anywhere, I promise.”  Chris took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before fixing the green gazelle mask over his face. “I trust you.” 

-Decoded Chapter 6

[haveyouplayedthisttrpg]

A 2024 retrospective

It's the 15th of december and I don't think there will be a lot happening in the last weeks of the year. I will schedule polls until the 22nd and then it's a break till it's 2025. In the mean time, let's do a little retrospective of my year

Running a Poll Blog

In February I started this blog. As of writing, we've had 529 games and i'm sure there's some "big names" that haven't been polled yet. And we haven't got the big D game either. Don't worry, there will be a special day for it.

Anyway thank you all for voting, rebloging and submitting. I am glad to be part of the tumblr ttrpg community.

Playing TTRPG

I like stats. I like having sheets for thing like sessions played, whole collection and my bed.

This year I have played 51 sessions total. It's actually a 50/50 of online and in-person (26-25). Being in a ttrpg club really helps (21 sessions). I also played a lot on @anim-ttrpgs discord book club, great place ( and it's no wonder that Eureka is one of my most played this year).

I mostly played One shot ( 25 sessions)

I was a GM only 19 times, that was a vacation.

My busiest month was July with 10 sessions, that was.... a month.

My most played game this year are :

1 Knight an avalon RPG

2 Eureka

3 Triangle Agency

4 City of mist, The Dark Eye and Vaesen

In total I played 24 official games plus 4 different home systems

Game Design

I had a long pause of writing games. This year, I went out of my funk, created and published again. It felt good. I wanna thank the Nagademon and the Anim TTRPG communities for this.

I published Cooking in Dungeon : a solo larp game for those who have no idea what to cook for their meals

The TCG Oracle : a game that uses any trading card game cards for gmless adventures.

Chaos at Cosplay Con : Everyone at the con became their cosplays. Some lost their mind to the characters, but you didn't and now your group needs to get out before the costume consumes you.

A TTRPG addict

I love ttrpg, I wouldn't run this blog otherwise.

This is seen by my ever growing collection, both books and pdf. I bought games that I discovered thanks to this blog. The blog also made me think about where my games come from, and I tend to consume locally a lot, either with original creations or translations.

I am also impatient (the main reason i learned english is because the english manga scans were further ahead than the french ones) and a good target for FOMO so i often pledge for crowdfunding projects. I am waiting on a lot of them still, mostly pdf, I have my own trello to keep track of them.

Good thing with pdf : they don't take place on the shelves and you don't pay an import tax on them. Bad thing : you can't use them to build a house out of books cause your addiction went awry.

Here's to 2025

Here's to a new year that I hope will be better than the last, and so forth for any future year. May I not lose myself between too many projects and ideas and not finish any of them. I have already started a new one this december, somewhat anonymously and already I hate the white page in front of me.

And here's to staying on tumblr cause it's my trashcan thank you very much, and I will only leave by the force of the bayonets.

[agenderfrenchfry]

I’m very glad that we, as a community, are taking a step back and evaluating how we interact with each other and the thoughts we put out into the world. I’d wanted to speak up about the inherent toxicity this fandom can exude at times myself, but to be honest? I was scared. I still am typing this out! But I trust myself and the people around me, and view this as an important discussion we need to have. My experience in the ibvs fandom has been shared in bits and pieces before, but never fully mapped out. That’s what I’m going to try to do now. (This might seem random at first, but trust me, it’s on topic.)

⚠️Tw for abusive relationships and grooming!⚠️

When I was 13 years old, I was released into the absolute Wild West that is the internet. By all accounts, I was a responsible kid in the eyes of my parents, so I was given little to no monitoring when it came to the content I consumed. Shortly thereafter, I was introduced to someone who would come to define - and end - the rest of my childhood.

Feli, or RainbowWreck on Tumblr, was a system with alters that ranged from far younger than me to far, far older. We met when I sent a response to one of their vent posts, and quickly bonded over a D&D au of IBVS. When tumblr messaging grew inconvenient, we moved to Discord, where we conversed nearly every day. At this point, I was ecstatic. Yes, one friend halfway around the world may have seemed minuscule in the grand scheme of things to others, but I was a severely lonely, chronically anxious autistic kid in middle school of all places. I had no other friends, I was at the stage of my life where connecting with family was getting harder, and overall Feli just seemed like a godsend. Looking back, I can see now that this really made me a perfect target.

I don’t know when things started growing sinister. Do you ever? Slowly, they started pushing. Ignoring my boundaries and testing me to see just how far out of my comfort zone I could be prodded. This often ended up in a horrible panic attack on my end, but I was terrified of the alternative. When angered, they would grow cold, despondent, and threatening. At the same time, they convinced me that my family was evil; that they were the only safe person in my life. They never lay a finger on me, but the amount of control they held over my younger self was terrifying. At the time, I would have done anything for them.

Over time, I became more used to volunteering information about myself, like my name, face, and where I lived. (Hey kids? DON’T DO THIS) I had an especially close relationship with one alter named Wolfie of about 17, who began to dub me his son. I was still only 13. Eventually, it reached the point where they started openly talking about kink and sexual content around me, and I accepted it. This was someone I thought I was safe around. Someone who called himself my father. I was still only 13.

I got out by sheer luck, and what they’ve done still haunts me to this day. Trust me, I’m only just beginning to unravel all the shit they pulled, and this is only a brief summary.

What I’m trying to say is, when people say that nsfw content of minors hurts “someone”, you don’t fully understand that “someone” is real until it happens to a person you’re close with - or, god forbid, you yourself. But trust me, it does. If I had been less desensitized to pornographic imagery at a young age, I probably would have recognized what was happening to me sooner. Maybe I’d be a completely different, healthier person. But that version of me doesn’t get to exist.

So if you happen to be scrolling on tumblr one day and stumble across content like a drawing of minors playing strip monopoly or a fic where the Jovel twins do hanky panky, please, say something. You could really make a difference in the life of a kid who was like me.

[transhuman-priestess]

How I Scan Negatives

I've been doing film photography for 3 whole weeks so of course I am now an expert and you should toooooootally listen to me for my expert opinion on this matter.

But in seriousness, this post isn't meant to be a how-to guide, but if you can glean some useful information from it, that's really neat and I'm glad.

Part 1: The Scanner

There are a couple different ways to scan negatives. The simplest is known as camera scanning, and that just means you use some kind of backlight and take a close-up picture of a negative with a digital camera of some kind.

I've done a couple of scans like this but since it ideally relies on a macro lens, something which costs about $300 at a bare minimum, and more if you want one that's actually, yknow, good. Also, camera scanning inherently limits you to one picture at a time.

So my scanner is a flatbed Epson "Perfection" V600. I purchased this scanner because it is the least expensive flatbed scanner you can find that also does transparencies. It can scan 12 35mm negatives or two 6x9cm 120 negatives at a time. The Perfection V850 can do a full 36 exposure roll of 35mm but costs 4.33x as much.

So this thing is fine.

The first step is to cut my negatives up. This isn't as horrifying as it sounds. I have binder pages that hold 6 6-exposure strips, so a full roll of 35mm (which i will from here on out refer to with the slightly antiquated but slightly faster to type "135") takes up a single page.

Next, I mount them in the handy negative mounting frame that Epson provides, and put it in the scanner.

Now we can move on to the actual scanning.

Part 2: Scanning Software

This is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most irritating part of the whole ordeal. There's lots of decent scanning software out there, but there's fewer options for really good scanning software. Most of the "automatic" stuff sucks at being automatic so I end up doing most of it manually.

The scanner comes with the inventively named "Epson Scan," which is a very competent program if you want to scan and don't care about dust and scratches on your film. That is because I have yet to figure out what combination of options actually gets it to properly remove dust and scratches. This is mandatory, because I do not have $10,000 to spend on an industrial-grade negative pressure ventilation system for my bathroom/processing lab. Dust is avoidable, but ultimately inescapable.

The ins and outs of dust and scratch removal are interesting but not interesting enough for me to do a deep dive on them. The very short version is that the scanner scans every frame twice, once with visible light and once with infrared, and overlays the information from these to get rid of dust and scratches.

So instead of using the admittedly competent pack-in software, I opted to purchase SilverFast 9 SE. I paid $49 USD for this because I could not find a cracked version of the full-featured "HDR Suite" version and, frankly, i haven't missed the additional features.

SilverFast has a wizard option (Do they still call it that?) that walks you through the various steps of scanning. I haven't used it since my first roll.

The first step is to do a "pre-scan", which just scans the whole thing at a low resolution so you can pick the frames out of the lineup.

This is my screen at this point. The first step is to draw around the individual frames. This takes about 5-10 minutes depending on how anal i'm being about framing and overscan.

Now that i've let the computer pick the frames to save time for demonstration purposes manually picked my frames its time to boost the scan resolution from a postage-stamp 300 pixels per inch to an actually-usable 3200. You'll also note that i'm scanning these as "positives" rather than negatives. The "negative" scan option adds something called "Negafix" that i cannot turn off and that tries to color-correct for the negative stock's film base color. It is monumentally bad at this unless your stock is pre-loaded in its database which, as far as I can tell, hasn't been updated since 2005. We'll deal with that later though.

Now that we have the basic setting defined we go over to the "frame" menu seen above and copy these settings to all frames. I could set them manually, but copying settings over is the one thing this software is good at doing automatically. This may have something to do with the fact that it is essentially copy-and-paste, which you may recognize as a basic feature of every computer since 1987.

Occasionally, and unpredictably, the scanning software will turn on "Unsharp Masking." The wikipedia page on this option will explain it. I will not, because my contempt for the option rivals my contempt for the Republican Party, The Catholic Church, and Portland's insistence on driving 5 below the limit on the highway. I turn it off and if I could i would find whoever invented this option and eat their dog.

Once that is turned off we get to turn on the most beautiful option that SilverFast 9 SE has to offer, iSRD. iSRD is the previously-mentioned scratch-and-dust removal.

I have found that, in this one instance, the automatic settings are completely acceptable to me. They eliminate most of the really problematic dust in high-detail areas. The hairs and dust that gets left behind is usually easy to deal with via clone stamp later.

Now that the boring stuff is out of the way we get to the tedious, yet, to me at least, fun part. Histogram adjustment!

What you're seeing here is a histogram, its a graphical representation of the brightness of an image. Our goal with this is to maximize the dynamic range of the image. All that blank space to the right of the "mountains" (and some of the "lowlands" on the left) need to be eliminated so that the file can use as much of the bandwidth they have for actual useful image file stuff. This is pretty simple. We just slide those little arrows until they bound the mountains better.

Once we do this we can check the output histogram and see how it's mapped all the image data to the full bandwidth.

This has to be done individually per-frame, since each frame is slightly different.

Now that's done we can actually scan. I use the "Batch Scan" function, which scans everything one-after-the-other. I'm not going to show the dialog windows because 1.) its boring and 2.) I don't want to reconfigure the save path the way I did for the above images. It's a privacy thing.

After we've scanned everything its time to move on to...

Part 3: Color Grading

This is the part you've never heard about before. It's the most involved, and the most important, and it's worth getting into why.

Computers are amazing at storing information, at sorting information, at rearranging and processing information, but they are fundementally incapable of the most important part of dealing with information, assigning meaning.

I'm sure a lot of folks are going to be very very angry at me for saying that, but I actually don't care, and what's more, I'm confident the computer scientists I know will agree with me.

Film is better at storing images than computers. Period, this is a physical fact. The amount of dynamic range and resolution contained in film exceeds the ability of computers to contain it completely. So scanning is always going to be about compromises. You're trying to maximize the amount of useful information you can see by eliminating as much of the un-useful information as you can. But the computer doesn't actually know what is and isn't useful, so we have to tell it.

In order to do this, we use image editing software. I know a lot of photographers who swear by Photoshop, but fuck Adobe, and I know a lot of photographers who love GIMP, but GIMP's user interface is so convoluted as to be detrimental to my purposes. So I use Paint.NET, which is Windows-only, a fact which is sure to get me hate mail from several users including one of my best friends. (Sorry, Murder*.)

Here we have an unaltered** negative. There's a bit of overscan you can see on the left side of the image, and obviously its currently in portrait orientation. Before we go any further, I'm going to fix both of these things.

I like to crop my negatives in a 3:2 ratio. This is the natural aspect ratio of 135 film, and i like that similitude. Paint.NET lets me set a fixed aspect ratio for selections, which is nice

Now that the overscan has been cropped out and the picture is rotated properly, we can invert the image to a positive, and here is where it will become apparent to you exactly why color grading is important, and why there's no such thing as an "pure scan".

Wow! That's very...blue? Well, yes, it is. Color negative film mostly has an orange base. This helps compensate for shortcomings in the dyes used, and those shortcomings are why we have to color grade. The next step I take is to open the "levels" controls, where you'll see our old friend, the histogram!

This histogram looks different, but it's the same basic concept, with the difference that this program lets me adjust red, green, and blue individually. You'll also note that the individual RGB histograms broadly look similar, just out of sync. This is because of the orange base. They won't always look that similar, and in this case it's largely because the sky was overcast that day and there's a large amount of gray in the entire image.

We're going to adjust the input histogram first. Here, our goal is to map the maximum amount of dynamic range possible to the final image. Color balance is not yet important. So we slide the little arrows up and down from the top and bottom so that as much of them fill the output histogram as possible without clipping.

What is clipping? Clipping is when the black or white levels "blow out". Some clipping is acceptable in some images. A bright, sunny day will invariably have some clipping, and if you go out of your way to avoid it the image will look weird and flat. But in a picture like this where everything is muted and gray, we want to avoid it.

Clipping, by the way, looks like this, and is why i don't let the computer automatically adjust the level balance. Some people like this look with the deep black shadows, I do not.

But, onto doing it the Proper*** way

You can see the image is looking a lot better, but it still has a notably off color cast to the image. Its kind of green. Now we can move on to adjusting the output histogram. There's two ways to deal with this. We can adjust the input red, but this will result in highlight clipping. I actually don't mind highlight clipping as much, and in this case we have several red lights in the image both on the BMW and the crossing gate, so we're going to adjust that input histogram.

Truthfully, I should have thought of this before picking this image to do a demonstration on, but at this point its too late to turn back, and like I keep saying, this isn't a "how-to" guide.

So we still have a bit of a color cast, but its (mostly) in the midtones. Now it's time to bring out our secret weapon: gray balance, also known as neutral point or gray point.

That middle slider can be adjusted for red, green, and blue independently, and that's exactly what we're going to do.

This looks, for the most part, very good. I'll probably go back and tweak the gray points in the red and green a bit more, and i often go through these steps 2-3 times, repeating with finer adjustments before finally confirming the changes.

Truthfully, I don't remember if the BMW was pure white or eggshell white, so i'm going to err on the side of "eggshell" because the rest of the image looks weirder if i adjust for that white to be "pure".

And now, Voila! A fully color-graded image.

Does it look exactly like it did IRL? No, not quite, but again, scanning is all about compromise. I'm sure someone with more experience could do a better job than me, but the point here isn't to show you how to make things perfect, it's to show how I, Ivy Michaels do this.

If you made it through this far, congratulations! I love you! I hope you found this interesting. Thanks for reading <3

*Murder is e's actual name.

** i have censored the license plate of the 25-year-old BMW in my shot out of privacy concerns. It is not my car, and i do not know the owner. The negative has not been cropped, rotated, inverted, or graded in any way. Only the license plate has been removed by select-and-stretch. *** Despite my repeated slides into "we/us" language, this is not a how-to and is not intended to be a statement of objective correctness. It is "correct" in the sense of "correct to my personal workflow"