#i hate steven <- is obsessed with him

[the-acid-pear]

grumbling and groaning and grinding teeth as i analyze a character and his backstory despite not liking it at all because maybe there's something to be found by acknowledging canon

[chloe12801]

I love Steven Ogg but no one ever talks about the weird situation/distance he has with his son and it is ALWAYS on my mind and bothering me when I think of him

[jibberjibbsart]

I love that I haven’t even finished Power Hour (the next part is coming! TLDR I adopted a cat and she’s taking up a lot of my time! She’s a cutie) but I already have an idea for a shorter comic.

Mabel sees the tension between Dean and Cas and she wants to play matchmaker and so she finds a flower that can be brewed into a tea and it will “reveal that which is hidden”. She thinks this means Dean and Cas will come clean about their feelings. She brews the tea and gives it to both of them, except Cas doesn’t drink it. “Too many molecules, but I appreciate the gesture.” Mabel isn’t sure what this means for the spell, but she hopes it works!

The next day Dean wakes up and pats Sam on the arm… and in his head he hears Sam’s voice “Jesus he stinks, hope he’s headed for the shower.” Dean is confused but he calls Sam a bitch and thinks nothing of it. Sam is also confused. Later Dean runs into Steven fixing up his car. Dean is happy to help and as he brushes against Steven’s shoulder he hears Steven’s voice this time “I’m so embarrassed, my dad lived in his van for how many years and I don’t know anything about cars. I can’t let Dean know that.” Dean flinches. Okay now it’s weird. He goes to Luz and Amity. He asks them if they can detect spells/curses/hexes. Neither of them are proficient in oracle magic but they can try. Amity grabs Dean’s hand and he hears “Maybe if he didn’t fight so many witches in the past he wouldn’t need to be worried about getting cursed.” She tells him she can’t detect anything.

Finally he’s back at his hotel and Cas is there reading a book. Cas asks him if everything is okay and Dean doesn’t reveal anything, just flops down onto the bed and sighs dramatically. Then Dean feels Cas’s reassuring hand on his back. Then he hears his voice “I hate seeing Dean like this, I wish there were a way to lift his spirits. He has a beautiful smile.” Dean’s eyes snap open and he looks at Cas wide eyed. Cas does his little head tilt and asks if everything’s okay. Dean just nods.

Yes this is based off of Cherry Magic, I just watched it and became obsessed with it

[sparrowlucero]

Even if a creator is a bad person it's still okay to like their work. People need to mind their own business.

Honestly it's not really that sort of situation. I'll actively defend Steven Moffat here.

There was a huge hate movement for him back in the early 2010s - which, in retrospect, formed largely because he was running 2 of the superwholock shows at once, one of which went through extremely long hiatuses* and the other of which was functionally an adaptation of an already well regarded show**, making him subject to a sort of double ire in the eyes of a lot of fandom people. Notably, his co-showrunner, Mark Gatiss, is rarely mentioned and much of his work is still attributed to Moffat (and yes, this includes that Hbomberguy video. Several of "Steven Moffat's bad writing choices" were not actually written by him, they were Gatiss.)

People caricatured the dude into a sort of malicious, arrogant figure who hated women and was deliberately mismanaging these shows to spite fans, to the point where people who never watched them believe this via cultural osmosis. It became very common to take quotes from him out of context to make them look bad***, to cite him as an example of a showrunner who hated his fans, someone who sabotaged his own work just to get at said fans, someone who was too arrogant to take criticism, despite all of this being basically a collective "headcanon" about the guy formed on tumblr. Some if it got especially terrible, like lying about sexual assault (I don't mean people accused him of sexual assault and I think they're making it up, I mean people would say things like "many of his actresses have accused him of sexual assault on set" when no such accusations exist in the first place. This gets passed around en masse and is, in my opinion, absolutely rancid.)

On top of that a ton of the criticism directed at the shows themselves is, personally, just terrible media criticism. So much of it came from assuming a very hostile intent from the writer and just refusing to engage with the text at all past that.

Like some really common threads you see with critique of this writer's work, especially in regards to Doctor Who since that's the one I'm most familiar with:

A general belief that his lead characters were meant to be ever perfect self inserts, and so therefore when they act shitty or arrogant or flawed in any way, that's both reflective of the author and something the show wants you to view as positive or aspirational.

An overarching thesis that his characters are "too important" in the narrative due to the writer's arrogance and self obsession (even though this is a very deliberate theme that's stated several times)

A lot of focus on the writer personally "attacking" the fans or making choices primarily out of spite.

A tendency to treat the show being different to what it's adapting as inherently bad and hostile towards the original.

Just generally very little consideration and engagement with the themes, intent, etc. of the shows

This one's a little more nebulous and doesn't apply to all critique but a lot of it, especially recently, is clearly by people who haven't seen the show in like 10 years and their opinion is largely formed secondhand through like, "discourse nostalgia". Which. you know. bad.

I think these are just weird and nonsensical ways to engage with a work of fiction. I also think it's really sad to see the show boiled down to this because that era of who is, in my opinion, very thematically rich and unique among similar shows, and I'm disappointed that it's often dismissed in such a paltry way.

This isn't to say people aren't allowed to critique Steven Moffat or anything, but the context in which he basically became The Devil™ to a large portion of fandom and is still remembered in a poor light is very tied to this perfect storm of fan culture and I just don't agree with a ton of it.

* I'm sure most people have seen the way long running shows and hiatuses will cause people to fall out with a show, with some former fans turning around and joining a sort of "anti fandom" for it while it's still airing. That happened with both these shows. ** Doctor Who will change it's entire writing staff, crew, and cast every few years, and with that comes a change in style, tone, theme - the old show basically ends and is replaced by a new show under the same title. As Steven Moffat's era was the first of these handovers for the majority of audiences, you can imagine this wasn't a well loved move for many fans. *** I know for a fact most people have not sought out the sources for a lot of these quotes to check that they read the same in context because 1) most of them were deleted years ago and are very difficult to find now and 2) many of them do actually make sense in the context of their respective interviews

[pleasurebuttonwrites]

Getting to Know Jake Lockley's Massive Cock

Jake Lockley x f!Reader | Explicit 18+ | 5.5K

Summary: You are a fic writer in the marvel universe living in New York where Moon Knight, and of course, Jake Lockley are real. His identity, as well as Marc's and Steven's are public. You write for the fandom, primarily for Jake. He joins tumblr...and reads your fics.

Warnings: smut, oral, p in v, unprotected, cream pie, breeding

A/N: I had so much fun writing this one. If I had more time I would have created fun edits for the parts where there are tumblr posts and messages and such, but I really wanted to post this already. Also, sorry about the Spanish, I don't speak it. If it bothers you too much, give me a shout, and let me know what I should change it to and I'll fix it!

~~~

It was always the same. When you finish a story and are about to post it the nerves kick in and you hesitate to hit the button. You shake yourself, literally, and post it before you could talk yourself out of it.

You refresh the page and there it is, first post on your dash under your url: jake-lockley-is-my-husband. You know if you don’t distract yourself, you’ll obsessively check for any interactions with it. So you close out and find something else to do.

You manage to occupy yourself until it’s time for bed, and you just can’t resist checking. You have dozens of likes, a few reblogs, and two lovely comments that you reply to before going to bed. All-in-all not too bad.

When you wake up the next morning you can’t wait to check again and when you open tumblr your first thought is that there must be a glitch. You have thousands of notifications. You try to sort through your activity but it’s a complete mess. Fics you posted months ago are suddenly getting interacted with, and random other posts too. But your top post is the fic you posted yesterday. You scroll through the comments:

No way it’s really him.

New celebrity tumblr just dropped.

Man of the people!

You go to the reblogs to figure out just what the fuck these people are talking about and click view post on the most recent. You scroll through a chain of reblogs until you get to the first one.

It’s from a blog called jake-lockleys-massive-cock. It says:

dios mio that was hot! i love the way you write me. it’s kinda eerie how spot on you are. #my wife knows me so well #fic rec

Your brain practically malfunctions. Was-was-was that, was that, was that…?????

You go to his bio. His pfp is a picture of Jake Lockley and he’s written:

hola, me llamo jake lockley the handsome third of the superhero known as moon knight. he/him. some say man of the people. according to fics written about me: lover extraordinaire. here to read said fics. if you write for me, tag me 😉

It was some kind of joke, right? It had to be. You scroll through his blog. He’d been busy in the last five hours, replying to asks about his identity to which he provided pictures of himself. Pictures that people were quick to point out weren’t anywhere else on the internet. Others of course still doubted it, but you were starting to be convinced. Or maybe you just wanted to be convinced. But that would mean that Jake Lockley had read your smut about himself.

You don’t know how to respond directly to him so instead you make a new post:

Oh my god you can’t do this to me when I’m asleep. Did jake lockley just comment on my fic? No right? Am I still dreaming? #freaking the fuck out

You step away because it’s just too much. Notifications are still coming in and you don’t know how to reply to any of them. Later, at work, at random moments you’ll think about it and it’ll shock you all over again. This potent mix of excitement and fear courses through you. Fear because all of the attention is damn scary. You scroll through your asks on your break and there is some hate in there. Some of it just random hate that seems to come with getting attention. But some of it clearly borne of jealousy that Jake had singled out your fic.

You consider turning off anon, but some of your best requests had come from people on anon. And you don’t want to end that. You think about replying to the hate but you barely have time to reply to all the nice comments. Instead you block the bad and focus on the good. You can’t get to it all, but you’ll try.

You still can’t work up the nerve to reply to him directly - if it really is him anyway.

-

You’re still trying to manage your inbox days later when you see a request come through. You were planning on closing them since you’d gotten so many new ones and needed time to get to them all. This new request is from jake-lockleys-massive-cock. Your heart is practically beating in your throat as you read it.

are you avoiding me? seems like you answer all your requests so here’s one: jake (that’s me) gives you a cream pie and fingers it back into you with my gloves on.

You realize just how much you believe it’s the real him by how wet you get from this request. You try and try and try to temper yourself, but your imagination gets the best of you and for a few hours as you fulfill this ask you live in a world where not only is Jake Lockley requesting smut about himself from you, but he’s actually giving you a cream pie and fingering it back into you with his gloves on.

-

I would never avoid my husband. That’s preposterous. Go Time Summary: Trying for a baby, your ovulation window comes up and Jake’s busy driving around. You go meet him and fuck right there in his cab. A/N: not the way ovulation tests work but idc You’d gotten the smiley face. It was on a stick you’d just dipped into your pee, but still it made you incredibly fucking happy. You immediately reached for your phone and called up your husband. It went straight to voicemail, but that was common when he was working. You left him a brief message: “It’s go time.” You don’t have to wait long for a response. He’s good about checking his messages in between fares. You pick up. “Jake Lockley, are you ready to put a baby in me?” “Mi vida, no puedo esperar a esta noche.” [Can't wait for tonight] “No, not tonight. Now. We’ve missed the window the past three months because something always comes up. I want to do this now.” “It would take me hours to get home with the way traffic is right now.” “So…let me come to you.” You take the subway and meet him in one of the sub-levels of a parking garage. It’s full but he doesn’t need a space and everyone is already in their offices so no one is around. Jake’s double parked in one of the darker corners, leaning against his yellow cab. You thread your arms around him in a hug and he pulls you closer burying his face in your neck. Being close to your husband like this still never fails to turn you on. And knowing that you’re about to try for a baby with him just takes it through the roof. He slides his hands into the back pocket of your jeans, giving your ass a little squeeze. Your lips meet his and it’s all a rush from there. He opens the door to the backseat, ushering you in, trying not to break the kiss. On your back he pulls off your jeans, muttering, “...should’ve worn a fucking skirt.” He gets in and pulls his pants down his thighs freeing his cock, already leaking precum. You can’t help but lick it off. “No, no, baby. This load’s going between your legs.” He pulls you into a straddle on his lap and drags the head of his cock through your folds. “Already so wet for me.” You’d taken him so many times before but it still took you a minute to get used to his size. You sank slowly down over him letting the thickness of his cock give you that delicious stretch. Soon though you’re bouncing on him like a pro and he’s pulling your shirt down to free your tits and mouthing at them while your cunt soaks his lap. He knows you. Knows you better than you know yourself. No matter how much you rock and shimmy your hips, somehow you just can’t hit that spot like he can. He knows this, of course, so he takes your hips and angles you and pulls you down onto him. It doesn’t take long after that. Those pretty sounds and the way your cunt squeezes his cock so good have him right there with you. You cum together, his seed coating your walls so thoroughly, there’s no way you won’t get pregnant from this. Unless you let it all leak out. He at least as the presence of mind to get you on your back to help keep it in. He watches as some of his cum drips out of your spent hole and without a thought, he gathers it on his gloved fingertip - in his haste he hadn’t taken off his driving gloves - and pushes it back inside you - deep inside you. He does this over and over again, making sure his cum stays in, ushering it back with his thick fingers, up to your cervix. His thumb slides over your clit and the tips of his fingers inside you are coaxing you toward your next release. You want him to fuck you again. To make the most of your ovulation window. “Do you think we could go again?” He slips his fingers out, only leaving you empty for a mere moment before he fills you up with his cock. “Mi vida, I’m not stopping until you can’t hold one more drop.”

The words pour out of you. Never before have you had such inspiration to write a story. You’re awash in the glow of post-writing when you realize that now you have to post it. For Jake (if it’s really him) to see. You just wrote filthy smut for your celebrity crush. By his request, but still.

Normally you look over it for a quick proofread/revision before putting it out there for the world to see. But you’re pretty sure you’ll change your mind if you don’t just post it as is. So you add a note to the A/N section and send it off into the abyss of the internet.

You want to log off. Go do something, anything else. But the thought of someone else seeing his reply before you do makes you seethe with jealousy. So you stay connected and obsessed and watch for replies.

You’re still getting a stream of notifications so you ignore those and refresh the page with your post every few seconds to start, and then only every 30 seconds. You get some likes, then some comments and reblogs. You don’t even read them when you see they’re not from him.

Finally after what seems like forever, but is really about ten minutes judging by the timestamps, he replies.

i didn’t know i had a breeding kink until just now. you’re a goddamn genius. also my cock is way bigger than you described.

While you’re still recovering from this praise, you get a dm from him. You have to take some deep breaths before you open it.

Jake: do you know you’re my favorite writer? would you like to see a pic of my cock, you know, for inspiration?

You: Wait. Are you serious?

Jake: yeah, i love all your work.

You: NO, about the other thing.

Jake: only if you promise not to share it. it’s only for you.

You: I promise. If you’re not comfortable though, it’s all good.

Jake: ok, here it is.

The pic comes through and it is indeed a massive cock. Just not the kind you were hoping for. It’s a very large rooster. Like a rooster photoshopped to be huge.

You: 🙄🙄🙄

You: You know if I had really expected you to send one I’d be disappointed right now.

Jake: sorry, cariño. i’m looking at the dick pic i took and now i'm thinking i’ve over-promised what i have. ���

You: I can promise you that I will like it, but there’s no pressure to send anything.

The dots appear and disappear a few times as you await his response. You’re about to change the subject, when his reply pops up.

Jake: está bien, look what your fic did to me.

And a second later a picture of the finest cock you’d ever seen. You waste no time replying, wanting to reassure him that you indeed love it.

You: oh fuuuuuuuck 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

You: Is this really yours?

Jake: you’ll just have to trust me 😈

It does its job and inspires you. You feel inspired all night long. But you don’t write one word.

-

You’ve never spent so much time on tumblr as you do for the next few days. You dm with Jake a little bit, but he’s a busy man and you only get to talk for a few minutes here and there. You’re addicted to his blog though. He’s reblogging so many fics and answering asks. You’re pretty sure he has his queue set up and he just blasts these things in the few minutes he probably gets to spend on here.

On a tender Marc x Reader fic where Marc opens up about his past and then has emotional sex with the reader, he’s commented:

that’s pretty good, but marc cries more during sex.

And on a Steven x Reader fic where the reader is dominant, taking what she wants from Steven and pegs him:

this was fucking hot, but steven would be hard from the moment you looked at him. if your hand is down his pants, he’s already at full attention. #why is it always steven who gets pegged? #i feel left out

Someone asks him if Steven and Marc are also on tumblr and he replies that they don’t even know that he’s on here.

It’s shameful how often you look at his dick pic. He hasn’t asked you to, but you want to return the favor. You spend some time taking a good pic of your tits and you want to send it to him, but you have to figure out how to broach the subject with him.

He’s just caused a stir by posting:

thinking about getting a cat now.

And after lots of comments with suggestions on what to name the cat, he creates a poll.

He dm’s you with the question:

Jake: can you explain to me why everyone wants me to have a cat?

You: We can just tell you’re good with pussy 😏

Jake: jajaja, so you don’t know either

You: Forget it, Jake. It’s Fandomtown.

Jake: !!!!

Jake: one of my fav movies

Since you’re the queen of non-sequiturs, you write

You: Hey, could I send you something?

Jake: like…in the mail? 🤔

You: Uh, no. Like a picture? Of me?

Jake: absolutely! i’d love to see your face.

You: Welllll it’s not of my face

Jake: you have my attention

You: It’s a tit pic. Is that ok?

Jake:

You take a deep breath and remind yourself that he’s a guy and guys like tits. You send it to him and the one second that ticks by before he’s typing makes your heart skip a beat.

Jake: 🍆💦💦💦

Jake: tan hermosa. quiero tocar y besar y lamer y chupar y poner mi cara en ellas [So beautiful. I want to touch and kiss and lick and suck and put my face in them]

Jake: if i stop responding i want you to know it’s because i'm stroking my cock while drooling over your tits.

You: That’s perfect. It’ll give me some time alone with your dick pic.

Jake: dffdsdsadsajkl you’re trying to kill me woman

-

It’s strange how something so incredible can become so normal in the span of days, but it’s hard to remember what it was like before Jake was being a menace in the fandom. Not that it wasn’t still exciting, every post, every comment, every ask. But you no longer had to pinch yourself to prove it was real.

In fact it was so usual, it felt strange when he seemed to disappear for a few days. You missed him, but you didn’t wonder about it too much. He was a busy man, a superhero, a cabbie and shared a body with two other whole people.

His absence gave you some time to catch up on your tbr list, reply to comments and get to requests. You’re in the middle of an engaging back and forth on a thread when you get a request on anon.

can i request a fic of reader holding jake (preferably against your perfect tits) as he cries?

It’s him. You know it’s him. Was he even trying to disguise himself? You sprint to your dms.

You: Everything ok, buddy?

Jake: whatever do you mean? 😇

You: 🤨 Ok, ok, brb.

You get to work right away.

Get Closer to Me It’s later than the usual time that your husband, Jake, comes home. He always tells you not to wait up for him, but you struggle to fall asleep without him so you might as well stay up watching TV. You’re in one of his T-shirts. It smells like him and the soft cotton caresses your bare skin underneath. Finally you hear the click of his key opening the lock. He steps over the threshold, tired from his night of protecting the city. Something’s wrong. You can tell by the way he doesn’t meet your eyes. If not for the protection of his suit, you’d fear he’d been hurt. He lets you lead him over to the couch where you sit him down. You take off his shoes for him and then sit back. As soon as your ass touches the cushion, he throws his arms around your middle and buries his face in your chest. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when you feel his body shuddering with sobs. As much as you rely on his strength, it’s times like this when he trusts you with his vulnerability that makes you feel closest to him. You cherish the moments you get to be his rock. A wet spot blooms between your breasts, soaking in his tears. You run your hands through his hair, using your other hand to graze your nails on his back. You lay together in the stillness and silence of the night until his breath calms and his grip on you eases. You kiss the top of his head and he shifts, nosing the space between your breasts and placing a hand beneath your shirt, traveling over your ribs to squeeze at your flesh. “Jaaake?” you ask lightly, drawing out his name. “Hmmm?” he replies. “What are you doing?” From where his face is firmly planted in your chest, comes his muffled answer, “It’s soothing.” Your body shakes with laughter and relief. If he’s fondling your tit, he’s back to his usual self. There’ll be time tomorrow for talking about what was bothering him. But for now, it was time to take your husband to bed.

You’ve never written or posted something so fast. Before you can even tag him by adding your tag list in a reblog, he’s reblogged it with the comment:

THAT’S WHERE YOU CUT IT OFF?! #why are my eyes suddenly wet #boobies make everything better #currently accepting hugs

Then you get a dm:

Jake: gracias, cariño. i’m feeling much better. 🥹

You: Glad I could help! ❤️

-

One thing that you and Jake had bonded over was being New Yorkers. Despite not having it in your bio, Jake could tell you were one based on your posts. He messages you that he’ll be in town in just a few days.

You: Are you excited to be coming home?

Jake: i’m more excited to be closer to you.

Wait. Was Jake actually flirting with you?

Jake: do you think i could meet you while i’m there?

Holy shit holy shit holy shit. For the first time in a while you worry that maybe this guy isn’t really Jake. Because it’s not possible that Jake Lockley wants to meet you, right?

When you don’t respond, he messages:

Jake: no pressure if you’re not comfortable.

You: No, I’d love to meet you. It’s just… you could be anyone on the other side of this screen.

Jake: ah. would you like to chat on video?

He gives you his number and you take a few short minutes to freshen up and find a spot with good lighting before you video call him. He picks up right away, his smile lighting up the screen.

“Cariño, eres muy bonita,” he croons. [You are so pretty]

You put a hand over your face in embarrassment.

“No, no, no, don’t cover that pretty face!”

He’s walking around his place, the background shifting behind him as he moves around.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Packing.” He sets up his phone and holds up two pairs of pants. “What do you think? Tight jeans or grey sweats?”

He’s rendered you completely speechless, your mouth is hanging open but no sounds come out.

“¿Por qué no los dos?” He shoves both in his suitcase and picks up his phone, but before he can continue his conversation with you, his attention is drawn to something or someone off camera. You don’t hear anyone but Jake listens with a stony face, then rolls his eyes.

“Lo siento, cariño. I have to go.”

“Was that Khonshu?” you ask, all amazement.

“Unfortunately. See you in a few days?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

You hear him start to yell, presumably at Khonshu, as he hangs up the call.

-

Jake: no don’t send me your address.

Jake: if i find out you give random people online your address i’m going to be mad. you should care more about your safety.

You were texting with Jake, trying to make plans to meet up and though it would be convenient to have him at your place, he doesn’t want to put you at risk. If an enemy of his sees him there, your place would be compromised.

You: Oh, but it’s ok if I send a random person on the internet a picture of my tits?

Jake: uh, yeah, your tits are beautiful, you should share them with the world.

You’d managed to fend off the nerves until the day of. Now as you make your way to the intersection you’d agreed to meet at, your heart feels like one of those huge timpani drums and like a gorilla is erratically banging on it.

There’s a crush of people and tourists on the sidewalks and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to find him. Though you are like extra super early, so perhaps he’s just not here yet.

As you scan across the street, you walk by a line of yellow cabs - and nearly walk right past him. He’s leaning against his car, flat cap pulled down covering his face, and gloved hands holding a newspaper. He’s reading a newspaper. An actual goddamn newspaper of all things.

He lowers it when you stop in front of him. His eyes scan you and a smile spreads on his lips. “Would you like a ride, señorita?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

He folds up his paper and tosses it into the passenger seat through the open window, then opens the back door for you. For a moment you’re worried he doesn’t recognize you, but then you step toward the door and his hand is on your lower back guiding you into his car. He leans down to your ear to tell you it’s nice to meet you and that you look beautiful today.

You’re too caught up to reply. Up close his brown eyes are even deeper and richer than you could have imagined. His touch is gentle and comforting but the strength in him is unmistakable. And best of all his scent, sharp and heady, his cologne a perfect complement.

Your body still tingles from his touch as he circles around from the back and slides into the driver’s seat. As soon as he shuts his door, it feels like the two of you are in a little bubble. He meets your eyes in the rearview mirror. “Sorry about the pretense. Can’t be too careful these days. Never quite know who’s watching.”

“That’s okay,” you try to say, but it comes out in a croak. You clear your throat, embarrassment racing up your neck. “So, um, where are we headed? Your place?”

He pulls out into the flow of traffic, and glances in the mirror at you. “We don’t keep a place here. When we visit we usually stay with a friend.”

You wonder if you should be jealous of this friend until you realize he probably means…”Frenchie?”

Jake barks out a laugh. “I’m so glad you all use your powers for smut. If any one of you became a villain we’d be so fucked.”

“‘So fucked’ is kind of what I’m going for.” You can’t believe you said that out loud. Apparently you have no control over your mouth when your panties are soaked.

Jake doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, though you are busy admonishing yourself in the backseat, it doesn’t stop you from catching the way he bites his lip and tightens his grip on the wheel.

Before you can restart the conversation, Jake pulls into a parking deck underneath a hotel and slips into a spot. Was-was he recreating your fic?

You stay in the back as he gets out. He comes around to your door and you expect him to climb in but instead he offers you his hand.

“We’re not staying in the car?” you ask him as you take his hand and he pulls you out.

Amusement flickers in his eyes. “No, cariño. Cab sex is hot in theory but there’s not nearly enough room for what I have planned.”

You’re thankful to still be holding onto him because your knees go weak at that.

As you wait for the elevator, it occurs to you that you don’t know for sure that this is Jake Lockley. Like the real Jake Lockley. There were known to be lookalikes that posed as various superheroes. What if you’d been duped by one?

You’re quiet in the elevator. And through the grand lobby of the hotel complete with a fountain. And when Jake nods to the man dressed very nicely at the reception desk and says, “Buenas tardes, Eduardo.” And when the man returns the nod and says, “Señor Lockley.” And when Eduardo looks right at you and Jake says, “This is [your name].”

You don’t speak until Jake has opened the door to his hotel room and you hesitate before crossing the threshold and you blurt out, “How do I know you’re you?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “How do any of us know who we are?”

God, he’s funny and charming. Even if this turns out not to be the real Jake Lockley, you might fuck him anyway.

“No, I mean how do I know you’re actually you. You look like Jake, but you could be some impersonator, right?”

“Oh, I see.” He ponders for a moment. “If you’re comfortable coming into the room, perhaps I could show you something.”

You still hesitate.

“Okay. No. Good,” he says. “You have a survival instinct after all. Here, I’m going to go in. You watch from the door, but only open it enough for you to see in, okay?”

You nod and Jake goes in and you hold the door open just enough like he said. He turns around and while turning, his clothing appears to morph into a black and white suit, complete with a cape that you know only too well. Your jaw drops open because it’s one thing to see it from a recording where your brain is used to seeing all manner of crazy CGI. But it’s another to witness it right in front of your own two eyes.

You rush in, letting the door close behind you. “Oh my god,” you gush. “Can you keep it on?”

He embraces you and delivers a kiss that feels completely natural like the two of you have done this hundreds of times before, but also nothing like you’ve ever experienced. And maybe that’s one and the same. His breath is minty, and you swear he’s wearing cherry chapstick.

“That will defeat the point, won’t it?,” he says. “This thing doesn’t have a zipper. Besides, it’s really itchy.”

He transforms back while you’re still in his arms, and you have to admit you like him better this way anyway.

It’s not anything like your fics and that makes it magical. There’s more fumbling and laughter and friction. He’s not some love god and you’re not a siren. But there is desire, and it is real.

-

That One Night Summary: When your date stands you up, but you’re lucky that it happens in the same bar that Jake Lockley frequents. A/N: Special shoutout for the inspiration, you know who you are You’re in Jake Lockley’s hotel room. In the bed. And you’ve just laid eyes on the swollen spear he calls a penis. Your gulp is cartoonishly loud, and your legs press together like they’re Shaggy and Scooby in a haunted mansion. “Don’t worry, cariño. I’m going to get you really wet,” Jake says, crawling on the bed toward you and gently prying your legs open. He settles his face between them and when his tongue touches your clit, your legs fall all the way open and you sink into the bed. You marvel at the way your night has gone. From getting stood up, to trading looks with the hot stranger across the bar, to now being in said stranger’s - no he told you his name, so technically he’s not a stranger anymore - bed. He lifts his mouth off of you and you whine in protest, but he shushes you and a fingertip circles your entrance before dipping gently in. He goes slow, tantalizingly, excruciatingly slow. He works you until you can take two of his thick fingers, then his lips return to suck gently on your swollen nub. He didn’t lie. You are soaking wet, the puddle beneath you more like a lake. You’re at the edge when he asks, “Do you want your first orgasm on my fingers or my dick?” Your body doesn’t give you a choice, the image of either sending you over, and you clench down so hard on his fingers, he mutters, “Fuck.” He sweetly kisses his way up your body as you come down. Planting them on the soft skin of your belly and spending his time covering every inch of your breasts. He ignores your pleas to be fucked, waiting instead until your breathing slows and the coil inside you relaxes. You look up into his deep brown eyes and caress his face, wanting to know this man, his story, his life, what brought him to you tonight. “Ready?” he asks, and you nod. Despite how slippery you are, he’s still big enough for you to feel the stretch. He eases himself into you, breathless praises falling from his mouth. “Doing so good for me.” “You’re taking me so well.” “Tu cuerpo me maneja tan bien.” [Your body handles me so well] When he’s reached your depths, he stays there, letting you get adjusted around him. “Why don’t you show me how you like to play with your tits?” he suggests. You’re self-conscious at first but he watches you, hypnotized, while you tug at your nipples and knead your flesh. It relaxes your pelvic floor enough that Jake can fuck into you. Gently, until he learns how far into you he can go. He’s like a fucking paperweight inside you and you tell him so. “It feels even better from behind,” he informs you. And that’s how you find yourself on your knees, Jake behind you, his heavy cock dragging across your G-spot back and forth with every thrust, the pressure building up until it’s nearly blinding, your legs shaking so bad that he has to hold you up, which is a good thing because your body goes limp when your release comes, and then his cock is jumping inside you (‘twitching’ is too tame for what this monster can do), his spend replacing the weight of him. The bed is soaked, your legs are a sticky mess, and the night is just beginning.

The writing came easy but you debate posting, wavering between wanting to keep your experience to yourself and knowing that no one but you and Jake would know the truth. Ultimately, since you had kept the most personal parts out of the fic and it felt somewhat removed from the real thing, gussied up as it was to be smut-worthy, you decide that you want to share it, and as usual, you click the damn button before you could change your mind.

You wait a while before checking the interactions. This time not caring as much what other people would say, or whether anyone would read it at all. There is only one person’s feedback you’re interested in. And it’s there the next time you open tumblr:

sounds like a really good time. like something i’d like to do again.

[steddieme]

this is the steve harrington is seven au i was talking about in this post (warning: it's not finished)

seven has a form of foresight, he gets random flashes of visions and if he really concentrates on it he can even look for specific events. the future is a fickle thing, it's very malleable. he learns very early on that what he says, what he does can shape the world around him. he's very close to eight, he loves her power and she finds his random predictions cool. eleven eventually imprints on them like a little duckling and they dote on her as much as they can. they love her.

but seven sees flashes of brenner ordering the keepers to kill him. says he drops too many references to the outside world, he must escape at one point in the future, and that could jeopardize the entire experiment. he panics and tells eight, and they devise a plan to escape along with eleven. seven's visions are too hazy, he's too scared to really focus. things go wrong and they all get separated during their escape attempt.

for a while seven is convinced both eight and eleven died. he does see flashes of them at one point in the future, after he becomes steve, but he doesn't know how to find them. he becomes steve harrington by breaking into the harrington family's house, scared, cold and starving. mr. harrington is a cold man who wants him gone at first, but mrs. harrington immediately takes to him. they were never able to have kids and mrs. harrington is convinced seven was meant to end up with them.

when he shows them his tattoo and tells them he's called seven, mrs. harrington immediately names him steven instead. they're too scared to ask about why the fuck this random child is numbered, so they never learn the truth about him. they get him papers by paying the right people and steve harrington is born.

eventually, mrs. harrington's love for steve wilts, all the joy sucked out of her by her husband forcing her to go with him on his work trips. she has to leave steve behind, while her husband very clearly cheats on her right under her nose. she becomes too depressed to say no, to leave, she has no one to fall back on. once steve is old enough to understand, he comes to hate his "dad," but his heart breaks for his mom. it's still better than the lab.

as much as he hates it he takes up the role of king steve at school. he figures the more visible he is, the safer he is. everyone knows king steve, everyone would notice if he suddenly went missing. he wears his persona like an armor, tries to act as "normal" as possible. no one would think king steve was anything but a spoiled rich kid. there's nothing strange about him, he's a painfully normal asshole jock.

the hair is just for him, though. his mom teaches him how to take care of it, even shows him what waterproof makeup to use for his tattoo when he can't wear his watch. she's a bit obsessed with beauty, her teachings tip into toxic, he learns to associate beauty with self-worth for a while. but his hair becomes a reminder he's free. every time he looks in the mirror, every time he touches his hair is a reassurance that he's steve and not seven. he smiles when he first hears the moniker steve "the hair" harrington. king steve is for the public, but steve "the hair" harrington is just for him.

at some point he starts having random visions of people in the school. a girl holding a gun. a girl doing her makeup in his car while they laugh together. a boy with wild hair and big gestures. a kid going missing. seven different kids. and one of them is eleven! when he first sees eleven in a vision he cries for an entire day.

he sees monsters and death and pain. he sets out to find each of them and change as much of the future he's seen as possible. he already feels guilty he's recruiting all of them from the start, but how else is he supposed to protect them from something he knows nothing about? his decision to find them all has already distorted his visions. nothing is certain about the future, but there's power in numbers, he knows that much.

he first finds nancy and with her comes her best friend barb. he sets out to become their friend, and while barb doesn't approve of him at first they end up getting along well. he crushes on nancy hard, but then one day he sees visions of her and a guy named jonathan, who will apparently also be involved, and she seems to fit with him so well, he cannot bring himself to ask her out after that.

he finds out the other two people are robin buckley and eddie munson. he knows he cannot get close to them as king steve so he changes. he sheds his persona and sets out to friend the hell out of both of them. he starts with robin, because eddie is a bit too intimidating and he figures he'd take a bit more convincing with the way he seems to hate conformity. steve built his entire persona around the safety of conformity after all.

robin is very confused when he first approaches her. she's standoffish and rude and seems to hate him. but then she sees him tell someone from the basketball team off for bullying another kid. and she decides to give him a chance. and they seem to click instantly after that? he finds his soulmate and he's never been happier. he actually decides to tell her everything after a while.

when he shows her he can levitate stuff, she understandably freaks the fuck out. but after she gets it out of her system she's fully on board, they start planning how to stop the end of the world. steve is not alone anymore and robin cries with him when he starts sobbing at the realization.

they decide to befriend jonathan, since eddie will be much harder to convince. it goes surprisingly well, the guy is lonely and once you ask about his photography hobby he warms up to you. the five of them start eating lunch together, which then turns into hangouts after school as well and steve is grateful to finally have real friends.

he catches eddie staring at him one day. and then it keeps happening. turns out eddie stares at him a lot lately. he doesn't know if that's a good thing or not, but he does know it makes him flustered. his eyes are so big and intense. he talks to robin about it and she says she's like 65% sure it's a good thing and he's just curious about steve's change of heart. but when he mentions feeling flustered, she freezes. he's worried he said something wrong, before robin asks him if he's into eddie.

and. well. he does think he's a hot dude, to be honest. his hair looks so soft, he wishes he could teach him how to take care of it. and he finds his tattoos cool, he wonders how it would feel to touch them. and his eyes just suck him in and - oh my god he's into eddie munson. he stares at robin in shock who wears the same dumbfounded look on her face. then she tackles him and tells him she's a lesbian and she's so happy she finally found someone who gets it and they're truly soulmates.

while steve is honestly just confused. he hugs her back and listens to her patiently, thanks her for telling him, gives her shit for liking tammy thompson. and then tells her he's not gay. he liked nancy. robin rolls her eyes and says he can like both. which - okay, he didn't know you could do that. robin ends up making fun of him for weeks, because his type is just curly haired nerds with big eyes apparently.

but with this new knowledge in mind it's robin that has to do most of the heavy lifting in bringing eddie into their little friend group. because turns out steve wears his heart on his sleeves and doesn't know how to be normal when he has a crush. she finds it hilarious honestly. the only reason he kept his cool around nancy was because they were friends first. or at least he hopes he kept his cool around her. he's not so sure anymore.

eddie is very reluctant at first. he acts like a feral animal that has to be coaxed into trusting you. robin manages to convince him to let them join hellfire. the first session her and steve show up to is tense and awkward, but they do have fun. the two of them play one character, because robin is bad at talking but good at keeping track of stats and all that, and steve is good at talking and improvising. and together they're great at strategizing. the guys look at them strangely at first, but they learn to accept their oddities.

the weirder they are the more delighted eddie looks, actually. especially after they correct jeff that they're not dating. their strange twin-like behavior is what ends up drawing eddie in. they invite him to a movie night with barb, nancy and jonathan, and boom. eddie is finally in the group.

aaaand i lost motivation to continue this. i'm sorry for the cliffhanger ajvhdbkdshs

[voidlesscreator]

Core Fusion AU

The people that live in the Infinite Realms are able to fuse like gems in Steven Universe. Why you may ask? It's because their body is made up of ectoplasm that comes from their core, which is very similar to how a gem's form is made up of light and comes from their gem itself.

Fusions occur when two or more ghosts share a similar strong emotion or obsession, such as protection, love or hate. The fusion is a state where the occupants share thoughts and work together to operate a single body, so a lot of trust needs to be present or a singular goal in both minds.

Core Fusions also merge unique powers together to strengthen or link them together more.

Due to this, core fusions are typically seen as a way to show trust in any form or bond between ghosts, and as a way to strengthen forces and power.

Danny is probably able to fuse with ghosts and humans but was never told that it was possible for him bc he's half-human.

Now, this could work for both Dp x Dc and Dp x BNHA.

Dp x Dc

Danny can fuse with people who have been touched by death or have been dead and came back (like Jason).

The fusion would be a physical form that mixes both or more appearances while their cores (pseudo or not) appear as jewellery they wear as the fusion, which changes depending on the fusion.

Since I'm fixated on the dead on main ship right now, let's say that Jason is the one to core fuse with Danny first, and there can be an in depth backstory on how they meet and leads up to the core fusion, and it helps with the pit rage. Danny takes them to either Frostbite or Clockwork to figure out what is going on and they learn about core fusion and how it works.

-possible plot idea ahead-

In Gotham, Red Hood has been MIA for several months from both being a vigilante and a crime boas, and the rest of the batfam are freaking out about it; especially since a new crime boss has come into play going by "The Monarch" or "JD Fent" (The Monarch plays into Danny being either Ghost King or an adjacent role in the Infinite realms, and the JD Fent is a mix of their names bc I think it's cool :D).

Meanwhile, Jason and Danny have been chilling together using core fusion to keep away from the batfam and have been improving Crime Alley with Danny's inherited chaotic mad scientist gene being used to harness ectoplasm as a renewable energy since Gotham has a large quantity of it (bonus points if the ectoplasm can be re-filtered to be safely used again for power).

The GIW or another ghost could show up in Gotham to hunt down JD and the batfam accidentally get captured since a lot of them have died (I think??).

Cue a garnet-style reunion and a "stronger than you" scene before escaping and telling the rest of the batfam the truth.

Dp x BNHA

Similar to the other one, but quirks count as mini-cores and that's how people gain their powers. Quirkless people don't have cores and therefore don't have powers.

Danny could be able to fuse with the previous OFA users and just pull them out of Izuku or they could just fuse by Danny grabbing onto Izuku when using his quirk in a fight.

And I'm just imagining during one of the fights Danny grabs onto Izuku and a flash of light shoots out and once the light clears, Danny is gone and a person with three sets of arms with an appearance similar to Danny's and the other OFA users mixed into one before battling it out with the LOV.

Please let me know if anything doesn't seem like it works! And this prompt is free to use by anyone if they want to! :]

[keerysfreckles]

august — cam cameron

pairing: cam cameron x fem!reader

summary: y/n has a summer job at the cousins bakery. cam cameron likes to find excuses to buy muffins every day.

warnings: none? just a long fic (i got carried away oopsies)

a/n: already rewatching tsitp and i finished it this week I LOVE IT SO MUCH FJSHJDHSH

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ��୧ ˚

cousins beach was so surreal in the summertime. it was the busiest time of the year for the small town. the beaches were crowded and the boardwalk never slept.

everyone practically knew everyone. that's what y/n might have loved most about it. besides her close friend isabel conklin of course.

the girls met in the summer of 2017 when y/n's family started driving three hours to their newly bought beach house. it was in the same neighborhood as the beck house, meaning y/n and belly quickly became friends. belly always invited y/n over, and grew fondly of conrad and jeremiah fisher. she eventually learned to enjoy steven's presence as well.

the two girls have been inseparable since. every summer you'd find them attached at the hip, with conrad, jeremiah and steven following behind.

this summer however was different. not for belly though, she was still just as obsessed with the older fisher brother. the summer was already different for y/n. her father made the decision for the girl to get a summer job. her mother wasn't too thrilled with the idea, just wanting her daughter to have a memorable summer. but after officially getting hired at the local bakery, y/n didn't mind.

she's always loved going to the bakery. it was almost tradition for her mother to buy a pie to bring to susannah's fourth of july parties. y/n always begged for the double chocolate chip muffins before they left at the beginning of august. nine out of ten times she left with a smile on her face and a muffin in her hands.

the first week of work went smoothly for y/n. belly stopped by everyday to check on her. jeremiah went with her one morning for a muffin run, and conrad went with her once to buy chocolate chip cookies to cheer up a very upset steven.

two new faces came into the bakery with belly and the fisher brothers. conrad and jeremiah immediately went to the small stand with different flavors of cupcakes. belly walked up to the counter, with the two newcomers trailing behind her.

"hey bells," y/n smiles, leaning against the cold counter.

"hi," she smiles back, "i just had to bring everyone here for the best muffins in the whole wide world."

belly gestures to the two friends behind her. the girl to her right has dirty blonde hair, with thick mascara covering her eyelashes.

"this is taylor," taylor waves.

the boy to her left has brown curly hair, with darker skin than belly's, and y/n can't help but smile when be does.

"and this is cam," belly pushes him forward a bit.

"it's cam cameron actually!" jeremiah interrupts from the other side of the small store.

y/n can't help bit giggle, "cam cameron?"

"yeah, cam or uh- cameron works just as well."

y/n sends him one last smile before turning back towards belly, "so i'm guessing you didn't just come in here to chat?"

belly shakes her head and gives y/n the muffin order, including steven's request who was busy with his summer job at the pool as a server.

y/n was quick to pack the 7 muffins in a box before handing them to belly. she walked over to conrad after paying, with taylor following behind. cam sent a wave to y/n, which she happily reciprocated, before watching them walk out of the store.

—

the next day at the bakery was quite boring for y/n. an older couple came in and ordered a cake, and a family of four ordered a dozen muffins. y/n was in the middle of cleaning and rewriting on one of the chalkboards on the wall when the bell above the door rang.

"oh hey cam cameron!" y/n turned to see the curly headed boy from yesterday.

he smiled at the name, not hating it when it came out of her mouth.

"what can i do for you?" she sets down the chalk and walks behind the counter. cam follows as he stands on the opposite side.

he gives her his order, which was one blueberry muffin for himself to enjoy. she slides the small bag across the counter, but cam doesn't want to leave the store just yet.

"seeing as you're not busy," cam chuckles as he looks around the store, "do you mind if i keep you company?"

y/n instantly shakes her head, "no, no not at all. i'd actually love that today. it's been so slow."

cam nods, "yeah i saw the boardwalk was pretty busy on the way over here."

the pair talked for over an hour, when to both of them it only felt like ten minutes. y/n couldn't keep her smile off her face when he was around.

cam pauses in the middle of his story when his phone buzzes from his pocket. "shoot," he sighs, "my mom wants me home for lunch."

cam grabs his bag before walking towards the door, "i'll see you!"

y/n smiles and waves, "bye cam cameron."

for the rest of her shift y/n couldn't stop thinking about cam. their conversation earlier ranged from their favorite foods, to cam's love for marine biology, and even to y/n's hidden talent of being a boss at karaoke (belly's words, not hers.)

—

a week had passed and cam stopped by the bakery every day. his order varied from muffins, to cupcakes, to cookies. cam accidentally admitted to the girl he visited her to keep her company. it absolutely warmed her heart and a giggle fell from her lips.

y/n practically skipped out of the bakery and towards her yellow bike. she knew she'd call belly as soon as she got home to tell her what happened with cam today.

the phone rang once, then twice, then belly answered.

"hi y/n! what's up?"

"i may need some girl advice bells."

"i'm sorry?" belly's instantly confused by y/n's words.

y/n groans, not knowing how to word her feelings, "can you just come over? it'll be easier to explain."

not even five minutes after hanging up, belly's knocking on the pale blue door of y/n's parent's beach house.

"cam cameron asked me on a date," y/n was quick to the point once the two girls got to her room.

belly squealed, before asking a million questions. y/n happily answered them all, knowing belly was truly excited for her.

y/n explained to belly that cam asked her right before she left to go home after her shift at the bakery. the sun was setting, and cam was worried he'd miss her if he didn't jog the second half of the route from his house towards the bakery. she found it cute as he seemed more nervous around her today than any other day last week.

cam took a deep breath before asking y/n if she wanted to go to the boardwalk with him. with a bright smile the girl agreed.

which leads to her predicament, of not knowing weather or not cam cameron meant it as a date or not.

"he asked you personally, so obviously it's a date y/n," belly was looking through y/n's closet as the ladder layed on her unmade bed.

"but what if he just sees it as two friends hanging out?" y/n rebuttals.

belly doesn't answer, but instead she comes out with a navy blue corset type of tank top, and grabs the pair of shorts she found in y/n's dresser moments ago.

she holds the articles of clothing together, "because how can he see you as a friend if he sees you in this!"

both girls fall into a fit of giggles before you eventually get ready. y/n still had thirty minutes or so until cam was picking her up, so belly insisted on helping with the rest of the look.

she kept her hair natural, from it already being styled for work earlier in the day. she threw all her jewelry back on, considering she can't wear any at work. y/n always wore two necklaces, five rings (three on her left hand, two on the right), and a handful of bracelets adorned both her wrists.

belly helped with her mascara and lip gloss.

with one last look in her mirror, y/n and belly both giggled as a knock echoed through the whole house.

cam cameron was never speechless, but when he saw y/n standing in front of him words weren't even a thought.

"hi cam," she giggles.

"hey- hey y/n, you look great."

belly not-so-subtley squeezes her way between y/n and the door, greeting cam before she ran back to her own house.

cam and y/n started walking towards the boardwalk. the sun was still in the phase of setting. hues of orange, yellow and pink filled the sky with a couple of clouds.

the walk to the boardwalk wasn't the shortest, but y/n loved the amount of time she's able to spend with cam. they didn't stop talking the whole way there.

cam observed the girl, and noticed the small wrinkles around y/n's eyes when she laughed. he saw her fiddle with the ring on her thumb when she listened to him talk. he loved how excited she got talking about all her favorite rides at the boardwalk.

y/n wasn't the observant type, but cam was the only exception. her heart sped up when his smile got bigger as he talked about marine biology. he loved everything about whales. she noticed during the week, when he got nervous he runs his hand through his hair. he does the same motion as the two finally walk into the buzzing atmosphere of the boardwalk.

"so, what do you want to do first?" cam politely asks.

y/n can't help but giggle again, before grabbing onto his hand, "i have an idea." she simply grabs cam's hand and pulls him towards one of the many games.

—

y/n never thought her favorite night of summer would be with a boy she just met this year.

her and cam played almost every game on the boardwalk. y/n won most of them, but when cam beat her at ring toss, he gave her the purple stuffed giraffe, which she didn't dare loosen her grip on it for the rest of the night.

after games, the two sat down on a bench to eat. y/n had a massive plate of chilli cheese fries while cam had funnel cake. y/n wasn't one to question his choice, as he explained he ate an early dinner before he picked her up.

after eating they went into the arcade for a little over an hour. they walked out and the sky was now dark, with a million stars reflecting off the ocean.

now y/n and cam were walking side by side at the other end of the boardwalk. they were near the railing, away from all the games and bright lights, making it more quiet.

"i had a lot of fun tonight cam," y/n's smile hasn't left her face all day, and doesn't falter when she thanks him.

"me too, i'm glad you were able to come."

for a few moments it was quiet between the two. their hands kept brushing into each other's. y/n could feel the warmth radiating off of his hand, she couldn't help but slowly interlock her pinky with his.

"do you mind if we sit?" y/n points to a bench maybe ten feet away, "all the walking is finally catching up to me."

of course cam says yes. they sit beside each other on the cold bench, with the purple giraffe sitting lopsided by y/n's feet.

"are you not cold?" cam asks, suddenly remembering y/n was outside in only a tank top and shorts.

y/n shakes her head, "no uh- not really. i like the cold."

cam tilts his head towards her, "you sure? cause i could easily go to the gift shop for you."

y/n giggles at how sweet cam is, "really, i'm okay cam."

"do you know what you're gonna name it?" cam gestures to the giraffe he won for her earlier in the evening.

y/n shrugs, "i haven't really thought about it yet," she picks up the giraffe and studies it, "what about muffin?"

cam lets out a chuckle, "it's perfect."

a cool ocean breeze blows through the boardwalk. once it reaches y/n and cam, the girl shivers and subconsciously moves closer to cam. his cheeks flush slightly at the contact of her thigh pressing against his, and her shoulder bumping against his own.

"you sure about you not being cold?" cam laughs.

"okay, maybe it's a little cold now," y/n laughs with him.

silently, cam holds his hand open. y/n takes it, and a warm electric feeling flows through her body. cam's hand was shockingly warm, which was a great contrast to y/n's cold skin.

—

sadly, the fun night cam had planned for the pair had to come to an end. their hands never left each other's grip as cam walked y/n back to her house. once again, the two talked the whole way back.

y/n sighed once they reached the cobblestone driveway of her house. cam walked her up the steps of her porch, now turning to the girl once they reached the door.

"thank you for today cam," y/n thanked him again.

"i'm glad you had a good time," cam smiled down at the girl.

y/n smiled before leaning up to kiss the boy's cheek. her lips lingered there for a moment. just as she was about to unlock the front door, cam's voice stopped her.

"you missed."

y/n's eyesbrows furrowed.

"you missed," cam repeated.

before y/n can respond, cam grabs her hand again to pull her in front of him. he smiles before pushing his lips softly against y/n's. the kiss lasts for a few seconds before the girl pulls away. her cheeks are pink and her cold skin is suddenly warm.

"i really like you y/n," cam's voice is quiet, afraid to break the moment the two just shared.

to respond, y/n leans up to kiss cam again. this time one of her hands goes to his cheek to make the kiss become deeper. cam smiles against her lips, as his hold on her waist never falters.

this was the first of many dates for cam and y/n, and she loved every single one of them.

[lovebugism]

Some blurb with grumpy fem reader and sunshine eddie?

He's constantly flirting with her and she only teases him or talking him down.

One time some cheerleader trying to flirt with Eddie and reader is so possesive, taking his hand and walking away. Eddie is wide-eyed, big smirk on his face and going after her with jumpy steps full of joy.

✶ ┄ SHE'S SO UNUSUAL !

summary: eddie's pretty sure he's loved you since the day he met you. you're pretty sure love is a neurochemical con job pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: none? maybe just the faintest hint of angst? a/n: let's play a game of spot the steven universe reference because a clip popped on my tiktok fyp a couple days ago and even though i've never seen it, i simply haven't been able to stop thinking about it <3 anyways thanks so much for your request! hope you enjoy!

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s loved you since before he understood what the word really meant. He didn’t know a lot of things, really, especially not as a lanky-limbed teenager trying hopelessly to navigate puberty in a world filled with assholes and uncertainty.

The only thing he could be certain of was all the love he had for you.

He’s seventeen and hopelessly stupid and you’re beautiful and eons out of his league. He concludes that having the majority of your gen-ed classes has to be fate and that making fun of you is the easiest way to talk to you without feeling like he needs to throw up. 

So he takes to bothering you every day before class and sitting at the table beside you — despite the fact that it had been assigned to someone else at the beginning of the school year — until the teacher ultimately gives up and lets him sit next to you. He pokes fun at your Blondiemerch and how the same She’s So Unusual Cyndie Lauper cassette has been in your walkman for a week straight and the way you dot your eyes with pretty little hearts.

Every joke is sprinkled with the faintest hint of truth, though.

He tells you that he hates Blondie but that the shirt looks good on you, because everything you wear looks good on you. He says it’s hilarious that you can’t seem to listen to anything other than Cyndie Lauper but that he understands because he’s been obsessed with Metallica lately — and that he’d love to show you some of their music sometime. He says only children put hearts over their i’s, but that it's real cute when you do it, when you do anything.

“You’re so annoying,” you inevitably tell him with the roll of your eyes when he tells you exactly that. He can’t tell if the way the corner of your lip quirks up is from a half-concealed smile or a look of disgust.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he shrugs and knocks his leather-clad shoulder with yours. “It’s not my fault that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s kinda your fault.”

He says it all with a playful lilt to hide how much he means each word. That he’s in love with you and has been since you were in middle school, when he had a godawful buzz cut and loving Rocky Horror Picture Show was your entire personality — at twelve. 

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist,” you argue while you mindlessly jot down notes from the textbook spread open between you, dotting every i with a practiced heart. “Love takes time and work. At the bare minimum, you should at least probably know the other person — and you don’t have a single clue who I am.”

He’s momentarily knocked asunder at your words, at how profound they are. It’s like a century-old philosopher is using a pretty highschool aged girl as a mouthpiece, and it only makes him love you more.

“Well, I could get to know you,” he retorts with a frown. “You just won’t let me.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you squint over at him. 

“Yeah. That love takes time,” he echoes and a grin pulls slow at his lips. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, sweetheart.”

When two years fly by, and you’re finally a senior (and Eddie’s repeating his last year of high school over again because the one before it knocked him on his ass), you realize that he wasn’t kidding around. He still tries hopelessly to get to know you and jokes that he’s a second-year senior only because he “didn’t want to leave you behind.”

“Couldn’t just leave you by yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a defiant shake of his head. “No way. Not with Jason Carver and all the other freaks roaming around here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re the freaks here, Eds,” you monotone as you put in the combination for your locker.

He immediately notices the use of the nickname. It took you a year to call him anything other than Munson, and now he’s moving into Eds territory? It feels like his heart might burst. But you don’t seem to notice it so Eddie decides to keep it to himself, like sunshine in his pocket, lest he brings it up and he never gets to hear it again.

He presses a hand to his chest and leans in next to you. “Ouch, babe. I’m wounded. Truly. Sorry for wanting to protect a sweet little thing like you.”

You scrunch your nose and swat his hand away when he tries to squeeze your cheek.

“Some would say I actually need protecting from you.”

 “I am capable of pretty dangerous things, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” you scoff.

Eddie only grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You ignore the chill that his words shoot down your spine and pretend to be unbothered by the way they make your heart race. You choose to roll your eyes at him and stuff your arms with textbooks. “You better have a massive dick to back up that attitude, Munson, or people are gonna be real disappointed.”

“And by people you mean you, right?”

“Obviously not,” you monotone.

“Well, joke's on you, I’ve already disappointed everyone I know.”

“That’s not true, Eds—” you shoot back but then swallow the words when you realize you were about to say something too sweet. “There are billions of people in the world you haven’t met yet. There’s still plenty left to disappoint.”

“You’re real sweet, you know that?” he jokes with a smile. “Besides, if you’re really worried about the size of my dick, we can always break out a ruler and, you know, test your theory.”

“Ooh, sorry,” you wince. “I left my magnifying glass at home. Maybe some other time?”

“How about tomorrow?” he answers quickly and easily falls into step with you when you shut your locker and head towards your next class.

“I have a date tomorrow, actually. No can do.”

His heart stops and his throat swells and he forgets what words are for a moment or two. He can only blink at you for a few seconds. “A— A date?”

“Uh-huh. Jason Carver. He asked me out this morning.”

“You’re kidding,” he retorts bitterly with a scowl on his face. Then you start laughing at him and the world starts spinning again. He starts laughing too, but it’s more of a sigh of relief than anything else. “You— You are kidding?”

“Obviously I’m kidding,” you shove him. “Hell will freeze over before I am willingly anywhere around that guy.”

Eddie’s freshly beating heart starts to swell. It feels like more of an honor than it already has been, for you to want to willingly be around him.

“Oh, so you were just trying to make me jealous, then?” he squints over at you.

This time, you’re the stuttering mess as you try to figure out what to say.

He chuckles at you. “Because it worked, sweetheart.”

A couple of months or more go by and graduation nears — well, for you. Eddie’s still hellbent that he’s going to have to repeat another year, but you’ve made it your mission to get him to pass English.

He doesn’t even mind that it means he actually has to do the homework, as long he gets to spend time with you in the Hellfire room after school or share a snack with you at the picnic tables at Forest Hill.

It’s got him living in a state of grandeur. He’s hopelessly deluded, not only that he’s in love with you, but that you’re in love with him. And, for obvious reasons, you know that can’t be true.

Neither of you can be in love because you’re kids and you’re stupid and you don’t know a single damn thing about anything, let alone something as trivial and philosophical as love. It’s a neurochemical con job, everyone knows it. It’s not real.

Everyone thought Nancy and Steve were in love at one point, and then she called him bullshit at a party before fucking off with Jonathan Byers.

Everyone thought Jason and Chrissy were in love, too — that they would be everything Steve and Nancy couldn’t — and then she dumped him in front of the entire school after catching him being an asshole to a bunch of Hellfire club freshmen.

So, obviously, no one knows what love is. 

And by that logic, they can’t know when they’re in it either.

So you chalk up the butterflies and burning cheeks you always get around Eddie to being a dumb teenager who’s lonely and touch starved. Because it’s not love. It just can’t be.

Eddie begs to differ, though, and he swears he’s got the test to prove it.

It’s the spring assembly at Hawkins High, which means everyone’s gathered in the gymnasium on bleachers that are not nearly big enough to accommodate everyone, doing fuck all and grateful for not having to do any actual work. 

The cheerleaders do a couple of dances, the basketball team prances around the court — it’s all hopelessly pedestrian as far as you’re concerned.

You and the rest of Hellfire are located at the very top of the bleachers, as far away as you possibly can be from whatever the hell is going on below you. It checks out, though, because everyone else opts to keep their distance from the lot of you, too.

And you’re not exactly sure how the conversation started, but somehow you end up talking about crushes, and Eddie makes the too bold proclamation that you’ve got the fattest crush on him of all people.

“Leave her alone!” Dustin scolds him over the band, the only one actually trying to stick up for you. “Maybe this is something you should discuss, I don’t know, in private?”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no need. Because I don’t have a crush on you, Eddie Munson,” you tell him, stern and unwavering, as you squint over at him. Your glare follows the boy as he paces up and down the bleachers, two levels below you. “Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Oh, so you won’t care if I tell Chrissy that I wanna take her on a date?” he asks you with a knowing grin.

“Why would I care?” you retort, then grumble. “It’s not like she would say yes anyway.”

“Well, she did ask me first.”

That quietens you instantly “…You’re lying.”

“Wanna bet?” he teases and leans down, resting his weight on the seating in front of him, until his face is level with yours. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the mint gum he smacks between his teeth. 

If you were alone — and in some godawful teenage drama — you might’ve pulled him in for a kiss right there. At least, that’s what your brain tells you to do because your lips have started to tingle just thinking about it.

You hope Eddie hasn’t noticed the way your gaze falls on his own pink, plump, and very kissable ones. But the grin that paints his features then tells you that he has.

You play it off with a stoic expression and crossed arms. “Chrissy going from dating the captain of the basketball team to the town’s local freak would be an unprecedented low.”

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about our trip to Lover’s Lake tomorrow morning, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he promises before rising and spinning on his heels. He makes the trek to the lower level of the bleachers — a feat made more difficult by the crowd and the distance between it and him.

He makes sure to turn and look back at you every now and again, to make sure that you’re still watching him. You are. Of course, you are. And you hope the seething anger in your chest doesn’t show on your face.

“He’s not actually gonna ask her out, right?” Mike wonders.

“No way,” Dustin denies with the shake of his head. “The president of Hellfire can’t date a cheerleader… Right?”

Gareth shrugs. “He’s obviously bluffing.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t do that,” Jeff agrees. He turns to look over at you. “He’s been in love with you since middle school. He just wants to upset you.”

“Well, it’s fucking working,” you grumble under your breath. Your heart races and your vision swims as you watch him near the group of cheerleaders sitting on the floor of the gym. 

You want to believe that he’s bluffing, you really do, but you don’t doubt that Chrissy’s asked him out.

After she dumped Jason, she’d gotten strangely protective over the Hellfire club — constantly making an effort to talk to them all, ensuring that the rest of the school wasn’t acting total assholes around them. Hell, she’s even started being nice to you and you weren't even in the damn club.

She’s been hanging around with Eddie a lot more lately, catching up in the library and ranting about tests between classes. Everyone’s seen it. You’ve seen it. And it’s made you unbelievably jealous. 

Maybe you never noticed it before now because you used to be the only girl interested in talking to Eddie. But now he’s got the head cheerleader around to keep him company, to ask him out on fucking dates, and it leaves you seething in your rage.

And if love is anger, then you’re head over heels for Eddie Munson.

You rise suddenly from your seat and shove your way through the bleachers, muttering lackluster excuse me’s under your breath as you go and elbowing those who refuse to get out of your way. 

You reach Eddie just before he’s about to tap on Chrissy's shoulder. You take that hand and nearly jerk it from its socket the way you pull at him. Eddie is stunned, for all of half a second, thinking it must’ve been a fuming Jason Carver at the force of the grip around him. 

But it’s just you, all but dragging him out of the gymnasium with the strength of ten men in one angry teenage girl, and it makes him smile so hard it hurts.

He traps the grin between his teeth and locks eyes with the rest of Hellfire from across the room. He brings two fingers to his forehead in salute before he’s pulled out of the gym entirely.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he teases as you lead him down a long hallway. “Thought you didn’t give a shit if I asked her out?”

You don’t respond to his teasing. You just keep tugging him by his wrist through the empty school. He’s not even sure if you’re even breathing just now, or if you’re moving strictly on autopilot and rage.

You shove him into Mr. Kamisnky’s vacant classroom and lock the door behind you.

Eddie’s chest rises and falls with the heavy breath he exhales. “Well, shit, sweetheart... If I knew making you jealous was all I needed to do to get you alone, I would’ve done it a long time ago—”

“Say you didn’t mean it,” you interject, less than amused at his teasing.

“…What?”

“That you wanted to take Chrissy on a date,” you elaborate with arms crossed over your chest, protecting yourself, your heart. “Say you didn’t mean it.”

And Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. Like everything’s a joke to him, like the mere thought of you being heartbroken over him liking Chrissy is funny to him.

It’s not. Well, at least not that bit. It’s laughable to him that you would even think he wanted anybody but you after he’s spent so many years fawning over you.

“Of course, I didn’t mean it,” Eddie scoffs. He tries to take a few steps closer to you, but you back away, not believing him. He softens. “I just wanted to make you jealous, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna… hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you monotone.

The boy’s brows furrow. “Hurt your feelings or make you jealous?”

“…Yes.”

A smile pulls slow at his lips. He tries to hide it but fails miserably. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I just wanted to see how you would react. And I am very pleased by this reaction… Even though my wrist feels like it’s broken.”

“Sorry,” you murmur to yourself, already embarrassed at how angry you’d gotten.

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie declines with the shake of his head. This time when he walks toward you, you don’t back away from him. You even let him take your elbows in his hands and rub his thumbs over your warmed and jealousy-prickled skin.

“Actually, you know what, do be sorry,” he corrects playfully. “And make it up to me by taking me out. Somewhere fancy.”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile. 

“Benny’s Burgers?” you offer after a moment.

“Ooh. Burgers, fries, a milkshake, and a hot date?" he lists with a nod of approval. "You really know how to get a guy to swoon, don't ya sweetheart?”

[alwaysforevermaybenever]

YANDERE EX-HUSBAND: INTRODUCTION

× cw: general yandere stuff; malaysian/cantonese slang; reader is implied ethnically chinese (read her dialogue in Steven He’s accent); reader is also female; obsessive behavior; bribery; stalking; being held at gunpoint(?); threats; felony; implied murder; controlling behavior

× note: it's basically renheng/uncle roger and auntie helen

⌗ your beloved ex-husband? Hah! He’s no better than a plate of burnt egg fried rice with no spring onions or meat from a kopitiam(coffee shop). In fact, you’d pick studying at art school over looking at his face for a single second, even if it means your mother disowning you.

⌗ Unfortunately, even after getting divorced, you still live together. That’s because the house is bought under both your names, so you can’t just kick him out. And it’s not like you’ll have enough money to buy a new house after selling your current one, because half the money goes to him. Tsk. What a nuisance…

⌗ Yala, he’s handsome and rich, but he’s such a jerk and a micromanager! He always insists on telling you how to cook your signature noodles. (Mind you, you grew up learning how to make that. Your ma made sure of that.) He didn’t go to culinary school, so who is he to tell you that, huh?

⌗ You can’t stand being married to such a pompous man like him, so you locked yourself in your room on the wedding night. No way you’re gonna do anything with that eyesore (metaphor). That’s why five months later, after countless arguments and fights, you divorced him.

“Haiya, he CEO of a company, his net worth 1 billion. But he cannot even cook rice or defrost chicken for me when I ask him to? And you ask why I divorce him ah?” *slaps table*

⌗ However, your ex-husband doesn’t really care about your rants or complaints. You’re talking for hours on end about him, so that’s already a win in his book. He’s always on your mind!

⌗ He fully expected you to divorce him. That’s why he insisted on buying the house under both your names - you can’t get rid of him that way. All long as he’s under the same roof as you are, he couldn’t be happier. He eats the food you cook (leftovers because you’re used to cooking for all your relatives during family dinner), rolls on your perfectly made bed while you work your accountant job (in one of his other companies that you don’t know he’s the CEO of) and plays the picture perfect husband when your mom drops by (your 28501864817 relatives marching right behind her) with mooncakes and tangyuan (because she’ll beat you up with the tea set heirloom passed down forty-five generations when she discovers that you’re divorced with no sons!!).

⌗ How did you even get married to him if you hate him that much? Well, long story short, your mother and his mother are best friends, and their husbands are brothers, which made daily reunions even longer because they had so much to talk about. When they noticed that he showed interest in you as a child (one time), they decided that you two would get married when you were of age. While you were resentful that you were essentially forced into an arranged marriage, you pushed through it for the wedding ang pao (red packets) and tax benefits (at least until you divorced, which was when you started working and putting that science stream (not art!) degree to use). 

⌗ You hate your ex-husband, but you do admit that he’s a good wallet. Besides, it’s not like he’s obsessive or possessive or a micromanager who stalks you when you go out or a genuinely bad person who commits felonies because he found out you were searching for potential bachelors because after all you’re in your prime! Right? And besides, who wouldn’t want to date and eventually marry you? But don’t worry your pretty little head because he’ll take care of them since he’s the only one you’ll ever need. Yeah, you’re divorced but who’s to say you can’t get remarried? Not the law! 

⌗ And if he has to drag you screaming and kicking and cursing him (and his ancestors) to the ancestral plane and make you stand by the altar, that’s what his strength is for! And if he has to pay hush money to all the people present that’s ok, cuz he’s not rich for nothing and the relatives aren’t greedy bloodsucking money nabbers (me) just for show.

“Once again, until death do us part, my love… You at the back - put down that phone. I’ll pretend you weren’t trying to call the police, for the sake of this auspicious occasion. What do you mean my wife is being held at gunpoint and trying to punch me no she isn’t.”

[pines4thetwin]

As promised, here's that fusion post for the three people that asked for it (drops it and runs).

Ford thinks of himself and Stan as one, an extension of each other, and lowkey hates that its not true nor possible.

And Mabel really shouldn't have shown him Steven Universe because now he's obsessing over the concept of fusions and his desire to be one with stan.

Now lets say this is Pre-Weird and everything is still tense between them and they aren't exactly talking but despite that ford still wants to be close and he knows stan does too.

He can see it in the broken resigned looks Stan keeps throwing his way. And listen, Ford isn't the best at communication but he can fix this. He may still be angry and self righteous and an asshole but he can fix them.

So now he spends an even more absurd amount of time in the lab trying to making it his reality and entirely disregards his base needs to the point even dipper is concerned.

He has a journal dedicated to this idea where he keeps all his notes and theories on how to make it possible. Would he have to alter their DNA for it to work or could it be possible for them as they are?

While doing the tests and research for his fixation he remembers a dimension he briefly travelled to back when he was younger and fresh through the portal. One where this concept, his desire, his fantasy, his wish was real. A dimension where it was was their culture, their way of life. And while he did think it was interesting then, he was young and angry and raw with unrestrained hurt. Too emotional to stop and study the practice the way he should have.

He beats himself up over it now. If only he had been thinking more logically him and stan could be one already. They wouldn't have to be so... apart.

He doesn't have time to dwell on his shortcomings though. He has to figure this out. He doesn't know exactly why but he feels like he's running out of time. Like he has to do this now or he'll never have the chance again.

Eventually he has his prototype and it functions well... enough. He just has one more trial to run. Except Stan comes down to check on him. 'Worried ford isn't taking care of himself properly.' or something like that.

And honestly, Stan in his space is the last thing he expects because they have an unspoken agreement. Stan roams above and Ford stays down here. And when they cross paths they both look the other way.

But stan is here and yes Ford is annoyed at first but this also means he doesn't have to go seek stan out.

"I told you to stay- wait actually this is perfect. We'll do it now," Ford fiddles with his device, turning it on and he really isn't thinking right anymore. He know the device works and that's all that matters.

"Do what now? Stanford, what is that," And Stan is kinda terrified because Ford looks... well he looks kinda like how he did decades ago when he had sent that postcard and Stan had come running because well, its Ford.

Ford looks insane, primal and unhinged, like he hasn't seen the light of day in weeks. And Dipper had told Stan, had been worried but Stan brushed it off because Ford locking himself in the lab and avoiding everybody, avoiding him wasn't a new development.

But now Stan’s worried because that wild-eyed look is directed at him again and the cowardly little animal in him is screaming at him to run.

It’s like Ford knows what he's thinking because before Stan has a chance to decide if he's going to shut down or entertain that scared little animal, Ford is grasping at him and pulling him deeper into the dingy little basement.

Stan trips and he fully expects his back to hit the floor but fords got and arm wrapped low on his back that keeps him from falling fully. And stan's hand is also tangled in fords sweater so even if Ford had let him fall, well they would have gone down together.

But then he catches sight of that thing again and it looks vaguely like a gun and why did he have to get saddled with the insane twin? He doesn't even have time to flinch because a bright light floods his vision and he blanks.

For a second, Stan's mind goes black and there's a strange humming in his ears. But then he hears a laugh he hasn't heard in forever. Soft and joyous and for a moment stan smiles. It's Ford's laugh.

Because he and Stan become one. And everything is warm and bright and as it should be. For a moment everything is right. It feels like coming home.

His-Their eyes open and Ford's confused? No, Stans confused.

"Sixer? Lee?" Their voice says, soft and bewildered. They look around, searching for each other. Stan? Ford? Where did they go? They look down and their vision swims. Four hands, five fingers? Six? It all blurs together.

Is this me, they think as one. Finally as one. Four hands run up the sides of their one body then stretch out for their wide eyes to view. Ford can feel his giddiness rising unbidden. And a whisper from Stan, rising to meet Ford. Uncertain but matching nonetheless.

Finally

Finally together... Finally fixed... Finally right.

They spin slowly, as if that will give them a better view of what they are now, and they catch their reflection in some dim glass. Ford wants to smile but their face drops, eyes horrified.

"What did you do," Stan says, voice a cutting accusation. Nausea erupts in their stomach. And that isn't right. Why isn't it right?

Something is wrong. Everything is so very wrong. Ford's head hurts. Or is it Stans. He doesn't know. They can't tell.

"I fixed it. I fixed us," Ford says and it isn't right either. Why is it still so wrong? Stan is angry. But why is he angry? Why aren't they happy? They're together. After all this time they're finally together again.

Ford can feel Stan pulling away. It's like their mind is splitting in two. Hot searing pain shoots through their head, four eyes closing when the world starts to spin.

Ford grasps ahold of stan and refuses to let go. He can't let Stan ruin this, ruin them. He will not let Stan destroy everything he's worked towards again. They've been apart for so long- too long but not anymore. Besides, this is for them. Stan will just have to understand. They are one now. Broken and wrong but one nonetheless.

"Let me go," They yell, tugging apart furiously. Their shape shifts and distorts but doesn't split. Ford won't let them. They snap back together painfully, stumbling on two bulky legs, one that branches into two feet. Wrong.

"No! This is what we wanted right," their voice bellows, loud and angry and wrong. So very wrong. "For us to be together. Always together."

They grip at their hair as if trying to pull themselves back apart. Stan.

"Not like this. I never asked for this." they shout back, voice sharp and hurt and why aren't they happy now. They should be happy. This is right. This is how they are meant to be.

Even as the anger and hurt courses through their entire being, Ford knows he wouldn't want to be any other way. Stan's angry and scared but at least they're one. They're shattered and hurting but even then some small part burns in them, it's a tiny little ember but it's both of them and it says yes.

Another set of hands reach for the ones in their hair, pulling them out and restraining them. Betrayal spikes, scorching and increasing rapidly even after years of dormancy. Ford.

"Stop being so ungrateful! You're always so-." angry tears spill from their eyes. Decades of hurt and anger and resentment spill forth to mix into a sense numbing cocktail but most of all they feel alone. So very alone. Them.

They grapple and struggle and Ford's device glints from the corner of their eyes. Ford can feel Stan's intent before their body even moves. Being one now, it's like their minds have melded which means Stan knows the device's purpose. And he intends to separate them.

"NO!" Ford bellows, voice priggish and angry, hurt tinting the singular word so strongly that their body stalls. Why would stan- Why doesn't he want them to be together?

"Grunkle Stan?" Their head whips to the left, eyes locking with a confused and tired Mabel’s. Their focus splits, body jerking in an awkward aborted movement as Stan tries to move forward and Ford holds him back.

“Pumpkin grab that- Mabel don't-” And why can they never agree on anything. When did everything go so wrong? 

Flashes of being in this very lab, so long ago- but no, it was before that even.

Mabel stares at them, scared and confused and stan has never wanted her to look at him like that ever. But Ford doesn't register it because for a moment, one split second, Stan stops fighting him. 

They don't hesitate to rush forward, very much intent on destroying their creation before it has a chance to be used against them. To hurt them.

Two small hands wrap around it before they can get ahold of it. Mabel clutches it to her chest, watching them with something too close to fear. They freeze in place, hands raising in surrender.

"Sweetie," Falls from their lips, pleading. For what though, they aren't quite sure. Because their mind, it should be one yet it isn't. It's at odds, fragmented by a fear and necessity that clash so strongly it could tear universes apart.

“Press the green- Don't you dare-” They speak at once, words and thoughts overlapping. Large hands cover their mouth, two others gripping uselessly at wrist that refuse to budge, because regardless of whatever insanity that has plagued Fords mind to make them act this way, Stan will not let their voice- their words even hint at a threat towards Mabel.

Mabel's head bobs, looking from them down to the thing in her hands, unsure of what to do. Stan nods, eyes pleading.

Ford lashes out, angry and hurt and thrashing like a wild dog. 'Stanley please no. Why don't you want us to be-' Stan is retreating, silent and distant. 'Lee. LEE!'

Everything goes dark.

Ford rises slowly, head spinning and ears ringing. He has the worst headache he has ever experienced. He stares at his hands, splayed on the floor. Two hands, six fingers. Wrong.

His head whips up and his gaze finds Stan's crumpled form across from him on the floor. Stan's glaring at him, thick angry tears spilling down red cheeks.

No. No!

His head turns slowly and his eyes fall on Mabel. Mabel who is standing with his prototype in shaky hands looking between a separated Ford and Stan. He... failed. And now they're...

Apart.

Broken.

Wrong.

[redheadspark]

Could I get number 7 with Eddie Munson please, if it hasn't been requested yet of course. Thank you 😊

A/N - This is greater Eddie! Thanks for requesting this!

Little Badass

Summary - In the aftermath of the Upside Down, you and your soulmate pick up the pieces.

Warnings - A small mix of fluff and angst!

“You need to breathe through it,”

“I am breathing through it,”

“Like hell you are.  Come on take a deep breath,”

You glared at Steve, who was giving you his signature glare with his hands on his hips as the nurse was perched in front of you, putting more ointment on her gaze before she touched your rib, right along the wound that was fleshed stitched moments before.  You squinted, the pain was intense as you were trying to keep still and not squirm.  Thankfully the nurse was beyond patient with you, going along the edges of the wound that was still tender and getting most of the gunk and specks of dust off your skin.  Steven reached over to take your hand, feeling you squeeze his hand so tight he felt like bones were going to break.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” 

A voice yelled out from the other side of the room, which was closed off with a curtain.  You, Steve and the nurse looked in the direction, seeing the silhouette of a massive head of hair in a bed.  Steve snorted as you gave the nurse a reluctant look.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, the nurse just smiling and shrugging as she took the dirty gauze away now to dress your wound.

“That’s nothing, honey.  I’ve had soulmates in worse conditions with louder reactions,” She hummed in reply, “You two are lucky in the wounds you have: tolerable pain is better than most,”

Steve eyed him as you gulped.  Yeah, “Lucky” may not be the best word to use in your situation. Sure the world almost ended and the Upside Down was a literal nightmare, almost looking at your life when you were trying to save your soulmate and the love of your life from making a stupid decision to help others.  You knew how heart was good and he meant well, but Eddie Munson could be an idiot sometimes.

But he was your idiot.  You loved that idiot.

You two have been soulmates from the moment you two met in high school, you transferring to Hawkins when you moved with your parents.  It was the stereotypical moment any soulmate story had: seeing each other across the room and the rest of life ceasing to exist.  That’s what it was for you and Eddie: seeing each other in Biology class.  

Thankfully, you both matched each other’s spirit and sarcasm.  Being soulmates with Eddie Munson, the apparent Metal Head Freak who was obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons, and being extraordinary was no easy picnic for you when it came to your status in high school.  Yet you never cared, you were happy with him and knew deep down that he was meant to be with you, and vice versa.  In fact, Eddie was beyond amazing with you: treated you so well as your boyfriend and never once made you feel less of yourself.  You both had plans to get out of Hawkins as soon as he granted from high school, yet life took a turn.

Actually, the end of the world took a turn.

Being soulmates you both could feel the pain that the other feels.  From minor pains like scrapes and paper cuts to bigger ones like Eddie’s broken nose during a metal convert his sophomore year and you breaking an arm your junior year.  It was your link to one another, feeling the other’s pain and going through the sensation.  Perhaps it was a way to make you two stronger together as a couple and as soulmates.  

You remembered Eddie holding you close as you were nursing your newly casted arm against your chest, you resting your head on his shoulder as he stroked your hair as you were trying to wipe away your tears.  You hated that he felt the bone break as if it was his own bone breaking, yet when he showed up at the hospital, he didn’t show the pain on his face.  Eddie was far too kind to feel any pain like that, even with the persona that he gave off around others, you knew he had a heart of gold.  

“It’s nothing, babe,” he hummed in your hair as you were looking at your new cast with a grimace, “All that matters is that you’re good and you’re healing, okay?  Plus, casts are badass!  I can sign it first and make it look radical!”

After the nurse dressed your wound on your side, he left you and Eddie alone for a bit to finish out your paperwork.  Steve wanted to make a call to Robin and the others to check on them, you reassured him that you were fine.  Having Steve as your cousin was both a blessing and a curse since he was more like the brother you never had.  A worrying brother, but you loved him all the same.  

Once Steve left the room, you made your way around the semi-closed curtain to see Eddie perched on his bed, grimacing a bit from own pain that he was feeling and the aches along his bones.  You remember feeling all of his pain hours before too: the demon bats fighting away at his skin while he tries to fend them off to buy you and Dustin time to escape the Upside Down.  The pain was downright insane, you doubling over in Eddie’s trailer where the portal was.  You felt every tear of his skin, the teeth ripping along his ribs, and you were screaming out from the insane sensation.

Thankfully, you both made it out alive and in one piece.  Barely.

Eddie was still looking out of place, scattered in bruises and cuts along his face and arms, his hair somewhat matted and pushed behind his shoulders as he was watching you.  Your own injuries made him worry a bit as you smiled weakly at him.  He gestured to your side, right where the wound was freshly wrapped.

“Felt like a bitch,” he mumbled, you snorting as you shrugged.

“I’ve felt worse,” You reminded him gently, seeing him sigh and rub his face with his spare hand, "I would call you an idiot for that stunt you pulled back there, but I think you’ve learned your lesson already from both myself and Steve,”

He smiled, the deep cut on his lower lip almost busted open again as he looked at you fondly.  Reached out with one hand, he cocked his head, "Come here, babe,”

You pulled over a chair and sat next to him at his bedside.  With his hands laced with yours, he leaned over to kiss your forehead, nearly dodging the wound on your head and he smiled against your skin, "You’re one tough little badass,”

“And you’re one idiotic boy, but you’re my idiotic boyfriend,” You teased, Eddie chuckling as you hummed, “As soon as you’re all healed up, Hawkins is going to be a thing of the past for us,”

“Sounds like a good fucking deal,” he answered, leaving the pair of you in a comfortable silence in that small hospital room.  Although this was a close call for you both, you were inwardly glad that your future was right in front of the pair of you. Nothing else would come this close when it came to pain, making you two come closer than ever. 

The scars will be thin and the only evidence of what you two went through. You even see the thin scars glisten on your skin on your wedding day a few months later, but it brought you both grins than tears.

The End

September Prompt Session

[yanderes-galore]

I'll see what I can do, sure ^^

Prompts Here

Yandere! Steven Universe Prompts 8, 18, 22

“I know everything about you, darling, and you’re so perfect.”

“Don’t say you’re lonely. You have me!”

“I know it’s creepy, but I love watching you sleep. It’s peaceful, you know?”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Post-Kidnapping, Trauma, Clingy behavior, Steven's obviously not fine mentally, Delusional behavior, Angst, Forced relationship.

To him, it doesn't matter if this is wrong anymore.

Steven can't seem to feel calm without you. With everything going wrong in his life, he wants some sort of outlet. No matter how wrong it is.

Steven is so tired of having his needs be neglected. You are the only one who can comfort him. The only one he feels safe with...

Then he locked you in a room.

In his increasingly fragile mental state he felt locking you away in an apartment where he can keep you safe was the best decision (for himself....). Steven often comes to see you, living beside you to soothe his inner demons. It doesn't matter if you hate him or not...

He just needs you.

He needs you to be there for him.

He hates it when you say you hate it here. He hates it when you yearn for your old life, a life without him. When Steven visited one night, just to ease his stress, and you said you're lonely...

He refused to believe it... refused to share you with anyone.

You're meant to be here for him... and only him.

“Don’t say you’re lonely. You have me!” Steven laughs softly as he sits beside you one night. Even though the sound is meant to be lighthearted, Steven's nervous. He understands none of this is right... you don't deserve him doing this.

But he'll take anything to not be alone.

"I-I mean..." Steven stutters, cheeks flushing as he looks away from you shyly. “I know everything about you... and you’re so perfect!"

You evidently say nothing, glancing at him nervously. He hates that look. You look like some scared animal compared to him... frightened of him and his Gem powers. He really does wish he could love you normally...

There's nothing normal about him though... and he hates that too.

You should be someone he can't have. Someone as abnormal as him shouldn't have taken to someone so normal. Except... you're what he craves.

He craves normalcy and desperately wants that with you.

Steven has always wanted a normal life beside you. Except, he's gotten way too impatient. Way too demanding.... Such oversights is what lead to him locking you in your shared apartment.

He really is still a monster....

Which leads to him looking for your comfort to ignore such a fact... a constant feedback loop he's managed to get himself stuck in.

"I know the most about you... I love you more than anyone...." Steven tries to force a smile, trying to ignore how scared you are. No matter what he does... his origins keep echoing in his mind.

Will he always treat you like a pet? Even if you are just as, if not more, human as him?

"You just... You make me feel so calm!" Steven smiles. "Calmer than I have ever been... and... I know it’s creepy, but I love watching you sleep. It’s peaceful, you know?"

In an attempt to ignore the terrified look you're giving him, Steven pulls you close. Your struggling is ignored in his arms due to his strength. Steven can feel himself flicker pink but he ignores it, nuzzling into your neck as he tries to calm himself.

"Just... you understand I need you, right? Why I need you?" Steven whispers, glancing at you. "You'll always be there for me... I know it... even when things get tough...."

Steven is no doubt trying to convince himself you love him. Maybe at one point you did. But now? Well, he's too far gone to fix now.

Steven's rose-tinted delusions prevent him from seeing how you really feel. He's used to you helping him, used to you loving him. So much so he doesn't fully realize he's hurting you like everyone else.

He's not only hurting you... but himself....

Yet Steven doesn't know that. That, or more likely, he doesn't want to acknowledge it. All that matters to him now is you.

Steven still thinks you're the solution to all his problems, that you can help him...

When in reality, he's just leeching off you, dragging you into his own personal hell with him, just to make sure you're always his.

[sundewhasaudhd]

Hi Tumblr :D 👋

My name is Sundew, I’m a MINOR (high school age) I’m acespec, pan, trigender, xenogender, ambiamorous, and use all pronouns

I’m an artist, actor, script writer, theatre kid, and AuDHD haver

Current hyperfixations: DSMP, Hatchetverse, Vocaloid, Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, my OC's

Special Interests: DSMP, musical theatre, casinos, Tumblr history, theology, and some others that I can’t think of off the top of my head

Current fandoms: DSMP, musical theatre (especially Hatchetverse), Trolls, Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus, Amphibia, TOH, DDLC, The Skinjacker Trilogy, ROTTMNT, Ramshackle (kind of), QSMP (kind of), Gravity Falls, Steven Universe Nimona, Mitchel’s vs the Machines, Chikn Nugget (that counts as a fandom right?), Bluey, SheRa, Ducktales, Adventure Time, Vocaloid, Tangled the Series, DHMIS, Descendants, Moral Orel, and probably more tbh

I'm currently working on 5 different DSMP AU's/ animated fanfics, and one day I would like to make 'DSMP the Animated Series' and my high fantasy OC's cartoon, both of which would be indie animated and available on YouTube (but we'll cross those bridges when we get there)

This blog does not support cc!Wilbur or his actions, cc!Wilbur supporters DNI

Speaking of DNI, here’s my DNI list: queerphobes in ANY way (and that includes hating on xenogender people and people who use neopronouns), racists, sexist/misogynists, zionists, antisemitic/neo-nazis, islamophobes, anti therian and anti furry people, cc!Wilbur Soot/William Gold supporters, cc!Dream Team supporters, Robert Manion supporters

I post very sporadically because of school (and by post I mean post creative works, like fanart and scripts), but when I do post, it’ll mainly be DSMP stuff (especially my own AU’s), but I will also post stuff for other fandoms, especially Hatchetverse

I’m absolutely obsessed with c!tntduo and with take pretty much any opportunity I can get to draw/talk about them. Same with Wilbur Cross and the Lords in Black (and Webby)

Like I said earlier, I don’t not support cc!Wilbur in any way shape or form. That being said I really really super like c!Wilbur (o!Wilbur and q!Wilbur are neat too) and most of my AU’s have him as a big role

Feel free to ask me about my DSMP or Hatchetverse headcanons (or headcanons for any other fandom listed above), just know I might not always answer immediately because of school and shit like that

Also, I have a few side blogs:

@csundewsaysfuckitwebawl my DSMP OC role play blog

@yousummonusonceyousummonustwice my Lords in Black and Queen in White ask blog

@just-a-lil-theatre-guy my Hatchetverse OC role play blog

@bursssss-hesmyson my c!Wilbur AUs ask blog

Double also, say hello to my Tumblr siblings:

@rxccoonboo2 @cotableats (which is an account he and our friend Cota share) @a-sociopath-do-your-research @rae-unbeloved @loneycorner

@alchemicalwerewolf @silverwaredrawersys @beattlecub (no longer on Tumblr 😔😔😔)

Triple also, finally updated my pronouns

Anyway, I hope you all have a nice day and enjoy my Tumblr :D

[livwritesstuff]

ahaha hopping on the Steddie tiktok famous trend a million years late except neither of them are responsible for it and Steve kind of hates tiktok bc his daughters are all obsessed with it and he can still see their screen-time data and how tf did Hazel spend six fucking hours on it last Tuesday that doesn’t even make sense?

Still, they end up going semi viral – not like millions of views viral, but Hazel gets a solid couple hundred-thousand views on a few videos where she roped Eddie into those couple’s tiktok trends where it’s basically just one half being a menace to the other and Eddie is a Menace™ and proud of it, so he finds the trends hilarious.

The videos are basically just Hazel surreptitiously filming Eddie as he bugs Steve, all while quietly giggling in the background. 

She ends up gaining a meager but decently active following of people obsessed with her dads from it, which is fair enough she is also obsessed with her dads and thinks they’re hilarious, so she just posts a lot of candid videos of them interacting with each other and with her sisters.

anyways, here’s Hazel’s top five most-viewed tiktoks:

5) Steve in bed absolutely cackling while he scrolls through Hazel’s tiktok (caption: don’t be fooled by my view count they’re mostly pop)

4) Robbie aggressively asking Eddie for a fit check – he does not know what this mean and nobody will tell him

3) Hazel daring Moe to call Steve by his first name instead of Pop or Papa. She’s sitting at the kitchen counter to film while Steve is cooking dinner when Moe comes in and says ‘Steven, are you gonna make bread rolls?’. Steve just blinks and says ’No I will not, Lucille, thanks for asking’

2) That trend with a frog doing backflips where Steve absolutely refuses to admit that the frog isn’t real

1) Eddie asking what Steve would do if he told him he was straight. Steve is unamused by this, and mostly silent because all the responses he can come up with are not ones he’d say with Hazel in the room

(once they’re alone, Steve says, “What was last night about, then, if you’re not into di–” “Steve!”)

[timeagainreviews]

The Hyperfixations of Steven Moffat

Leading up to the Doctor Who Christmas special, I was surprised to see people expressing indifference toward the prospect of new Doctor Who. There were the usual shitbag “Not my Doctor,” homophobes and racists who add nothing but noise to the background radiation of the fandom. But there were also ride-or-die fans expressing disinterest. And it’s not like I don’t get it. The first season of RTD’s return was a bit jank. For me, it was a marked uptick in quality, but it also felt like it was trying a bit too hard. We’re also coming off the tail end of a Hell Year™, and we’re tired. Honestly, I kind of hate anyone whose biggest problem in the world right now is the Superman trailer. But I also recognise the need for escapism. Which is why a Doctor Who Christmas special and Wallace & Gromit double feature was such a welcome reprieve from Hell Year™. That was my Christmas sorted. And you know what? I had a lovely fucking Christmas.

My greatest takeaway from this double feature was that Wallace is a bit of a menace in his own right, and Moffat is a man with hyperfixations. When I say this, I don’t mean it in a judgemental way (except for Wallace, he should take more care), but rather to highlight what I think is Moffat’s main quality as a writer. Recently Moffat disclosed that he has been diagnosed autistic. As a neurospicy individual myself, I appreciate a good hyperfixation. Let this blog be exhibit A. You give an autistic or ADHD person a hyperfixation, and it’s like a dog with a bone. You can see this in the way Moffat writes about time travel. I’ve mentioned it before, but Moffat writes time travel like a young boy who got hyperfixated and couldn’t stop thinking about the implications of time travel. 

What are some of Moffat’s hyperfixations as a writer? How about names beginning with “Os”? What about women who look like Elon Musk’s mum if she were a burlesque scientist? Or young people who meet older people and become obsessed with them into adulthood? (I’m not gonna get into it, but it’s weird that it happened three times) While some of Moffat’s preoccupations are distinctly Steven, others are more widely shared. I still remember being nervous around a hobo statue my grandmother had in her basement. I used to run past it as though it were going to spring into life the moment I took my eyes off it. I understand Weeping Angels. Fear of the dark gets us the Vashta Nerada. Steven Moffat is a writer whose fixations are at the centre of his work. And part of that work lands him in hotel rooms where he has plenty of time to lie there and think about the room he’s in.

About a month ago, we were given our first taste of “Joy to the World,” with the opening scene of the Doctor going door to door in various locations attempting to deliver a ham and cheese toastie and a pumpkin spice latte. I don’t usually watch scenes ahead of their time, but the costume geek in me really wanted to see the latest variation on what has become the closest thing we’ll get to a signature look for this Doctor. I loved the butterscotch tones with the wide legged trousers. Such an iconic look. This may be one of my favourite costumes Ncuti has worn thus far. However, beyond a glimpse at the new costume, I was curious to see the Fifteenth Doctor with a different companion from Ruby Sunday. I adored Nicola Coughlan as Clare in Derry Girls, so I had to sneak a peak.

It was rare in classic Doctor Who for a Doctor to go into a situation with no companions. The Third Doctor was alone before meeting Liz Shaw. The TARDIS engines had hardly cooled between Leela and Romana. There were also the Eighth Doctor and Grace. But for the most part, there was always a companion bridging the exchange. It’s far more common in modern Doctor Who to see the Doctor without a companion at the beginning of a story. These moments interest me because its a chance to see the Doctor’s vulnerability. With no one to impress, the Doctor feels somehow less confident. The Doctor doesn’t always need a companion to remind him when he’s gone too far, but also to remind him to feel love. Here, we see the Doctor still not used to being on his own. He pops into a hotel lobby for a couple cups of coffee before remembering he only needs the one.

While this is a nice re-introduction to the Doctor’s current emotional state, I was a little disappointed by this being the reason the Doctor was at the Time Hotel in the first place. It’s funny that he steals coffee from hotel lobbies on the reg, but it’s a flimsy device for a story setup. Then again, that is Moffat’s way. During his run on Doctor Who it was always impressed upon us that the TARDIS always took the Doctor where he needed to be. He even reiterates this concept during the Doctor and Anita’s conversation about her sat nav. That’s sort of the Doctor’s whole thing. Go somewhere innocuous on the day when everything went to shit. Henrik’s Department Store operated for years without incident until the Nestine Consciousness showed up and the Doctor had to blow the place up. Besides, how else are you going to draw a guy who time travels and has no need for a home into a time travelling hotel? Those are like the two things he needs the least. So yeah, the Doctor steals coffees like they were TARDISes.

Along with Nicola Coughlan guest starring as Joy, we get an adorable turn from Joel Fry as the charmingly dim Trev Simpkins. While his screentime is minimal, I fell in love with Trev almost immediately. Sadly, Trev wouldn’t be long for this world, but the stars are a completely different story. Having been conscripted by the Doctor to spy on a strange man in the hotel lobby, Trev quickly becomes embroiled in the journey of the mysterious Villengard suitcase by becoming its next host. This is how we’re introduced to Joy Almondo, a young woman staying at the Sandringham Hotel, which is a bit of a flophouse. Once again, we’re reintroduced to another Moffat hyperfixation which is a weird “women be shoppin’” attitude when Joy nervously asks Anita if its obvious that she’s single. I rolled my eyes at that line, and it’s made slightly more egregious when you consider the reason Joy is by herself in this run-down hotel on Christmas Eve. Why would she be thinking of men on the night she’s very clearly mourning the loss of her mum? The brief conversation between her and the fly in her room endears us to her far more than her anxiety about finding a man in this economy.

Ultimately, the Sandringham Hotel proves to be a lot more interesting of a location than the Time Hotel. Which is saying something considering that out of the Time Hotel’s many doors into different periods of time, one of those doors is some kind of Hobbit door. In contrast to the wacky voyeur tourism of the Time Hotel, the Sandringham Hotel was where the emotional core of the story takes place, even if I find Moffat’s conceit about hotels a bit contrived. You see, I can imagine the genesis of this story came from Moffat lying in a hotel room and considering that weird door that won’t open. We’ve all wondered about it. But he loses me a bit with his take on why people stay at such hotels.

Back in 2016, my friend Gary came and visited me from the states. We planned a trip down to London where he could see Abbey Road and then onto Cardiff for the Doctor Who Experience and up to Liverpool to see John Lennon’s house. It was a bare-bones trip over three days that required some sacrifices in train times and accommodations. We needed a good hotel in London, but what was most important was a place to hang our heads for the evening, so we went with cheap. The hotel we ended up with, we lovingly referred to as the Hotel Mos Eisley because it was a wretched hive of scum and villany. The rooms were numbered with a devil-may-care randomness. At the top of the stairs was a slashed canvas depicting Marilyn Monroe. One of her teeth had been blacked out and a swastika was drawn on her forehead. We had to sleep with toilet paper in our ears for fear of roaches. But we met so many characters in this hotel that we remember it as a fond memory of our trip. We still laugh about it to this day. My point being, sometimes a hotel room is just a means to an end. Also, some people are just poor. It’s not that deep, Steven.

I will however concede that this isn’t lost on Steven Moffat. As I said before, a lot of humanity can be found in the mundane setting of the Sandringham. Spoilers for the Bible if you’ve not read it, but that sentiment is reiterated with the humble manger where Mary gives birth to Jesus at the end of this episode. Furthermore, the Doctor was merely making Joy angry in an attempt to wake her out of whatever control the Villengard briefcase has over her. I had read about a week ago that Moffat wanted to bring the Doctor’s meanness back into the character, something which I have been waiting for since Chibnall decided to make the Doctor constantly stoked on life. I’m not going to go back and count the number of times in this blog where I mentioned wishing they would make Jodie scarier, but it was often. The Doctor is an alien and basically a god, it’s nice to be reminded of that on occasion. Eccleston is a good Doctor, but he became a great Doctor when we saw him lose his shit in “Dalek.” Even if it was being mean to save Joy’s life, it was nice to see the manipulative cosmic being we saw in the Seventh and Eleventh Doctors.

The Doctor is forced to go the long way to save Joy in the future by boot strap paradoxing the briefcase code to himself. I really loved this year the Doctor spends with Anita, working side by side at this hotel. As my friend Taryn quipped, they did more to build the Doctor and Anita’s relationship in one episode than they did Thirteen and Yaz’s relationship in three seasons. But in this relationship, I did find a few holes, and I don’t think I’m alone in suspecting they mean something. By now, you’ve probably seen a theory or two about Anita being Mrs Flood, and I’m right there with you. While she seems perfectly nice, there are some moments when Anita feels like she’s either a woman out of time, or not of this world. She didn’t recognise police boxes, which is sort of fair. I mean, here in Glasgow, they’re everywhere. But they are still a relic. She also didn’t know what Auld Lang Syne meant. Once again, fair dos, not everyone does. But growing up in the UK and not knowing who Guy Fawkes was? Very suspicious.

The Doctor stays with Anita for an entire year working side by side at the hotel. It gave shades of “The Lodger,” and “The Power of Three,” watching the Doctor stay in one place for an extended period while using his Doctory technology in service of mundane tasks. It was very charming and Christmassy to see the Doctor in this capacity. It only further drove home my belief that Ncuti Gatwa was a shoe-in for the Doctor. However, my internet addled-brain still laughed when they hinged a large portion of the episode’s emotional core around a hotel cuck chair. Moffat is clearly not suffering from the same brain rot as me. It’s Chibnall and VOR (see: vore) all over again. Moffat may have a lot to say about hotel rooms, but so does the internet. Sometimes, the fact that Doctor Who is made by middle aged Doctor Who nerds is entirely apparent. I suppose it’s what makes the show so wonderfully memeable. 

Trev uses the phrase “Everywhere, all at once,” in this epsiode and I can’t help but feel like Doctor Who is dipping its toe into the metaverse. Last season we had a character called Susan Triad who was played by a woman named Susan Twist. Then the characters dance while singing that there is always a twist at the end. If Anita turns out to be Mrs Flood, then we’ll have a woman named Anita Dobson who plays a character named Anita Flood. I’m not saying this is what is happening, but it can’t be lost on RTD. Then again, Moffat did give us Oswin Oswald at the same time we got Osgood and I’ll be damned if it didn’t feel related back then too. One of the recurring theories I see people returning to is that the Doctor is in the Land of Fiction from “The Mindrobber.” Perhaps they have included the Master of the Land into the Pantheon of Gods. If you watched the trailer for season two, you’ll have noticed the large animated character emerging for the theatre screen. It’s either the deepest Eighth Doctor cut ever (Crooked World represent!) or the walls between fiction and reality are bleeding into one another. What will that mean for the Doctor, a fictional character? Doctor Who may be a staple of British culture, but it also exists in a Britain so foreign to modern Britain because it never went through a phase of Dalekmania. None the less, I sense another shakeup on the horizon.

Speaking of Britains from a foreign reality, how about that COVID-19 representation? I say foreign from reality, because if you were to have watched Doctor Who during the pandemic, you would think that their fictional version of Britain never had to deal with the coronavirus. I’m not going to sit here and call Chibnall gutless for not including the pandemic into the storyline. I imagine it was a choice that required a meeting and they ultimately decided not to address it. If I were to guess, I would imagine they left the pandemic out of the show for two reasons. Firstly, they probably wanted Doctor Who to be a reprieve from death and despair. And secondly, they probably wanted to avoid questions like “Why doesn’t the Doctor just give everyone the cure?” So yeah, they probably did what was best at the time and left it at that. I can appreciate that. I can also appreciate them introducing it to give the Tories a proper bollocking.

I’ve seen some complaints about Joy’s decrying the Tories as her mother gasped her final breaths in the hospital. Some people (see: idiots) thought it was too political and woke. Which, if that’s your takeaway from this episode, I pity you. If anything, the Tories got off light. I have friends who lost their mums to COVID and I was happy to see the show finally address the very real situation we survived. I’m old enough to have lived through monkey pox outbreaks, bird flu, SARS, and mad cow disease. I never met anyone who got those diseases. I’ve had COVID three times. The pandemic was out of control in a way no living human had seen since the 1920s. Doctor Who has often struggled with finding the correct tone when tackling deep issues. But I feel like they nailed it here. Oddly, it being a Christmas story allows it the proper tone to reflect on holidays spent with late loved ones.

It’s rare when I watch an episode of Doctor Who when my closest network of friends and family who watch Doctor Who are all in agreement as to its quality. Usually one of us has a grievance to air. But everyone in my little circle really enjoyed the episode. This is surprising considering the somewhat cheesy ending with Bethlehem (though I did love the idea that the Time Hotel is why there was no room at the inn for Mary and Joseph). Myself and Taryn, both atheists, weren’t bothered in the slightest. My friend Alice, a Christian, wasn’t bothered by it on any religious grounds. It was a sweet moment afforded by the fact that it’s Christmas. Besides, if Baby Jesus isn’t invited to his birthday party, then maybe they’re doing something wrong. Other than the usual chuckleheads, I’ve not seen many people complaining about this episode. I did see that some people were let down by the lack of Silurians. The Silurian hotel manager, Melnak, had led some to believe that this Christmas special was going to be rife with Silurians. I never got this impression as he seemed like a one-off character. In fact, after watching the second episode preview, I thought it was implied that the Villengard briefcase hologram took the form of the dominant species during dinosaur times. It would appear that we were all wrong. Other than that and some of Moffat’s weird “women be shopping” brand of dialogue, it was a very solid episode of Doctor Who.

Along with the quiet moments of reflection, the deep connection between the Doctor and Anita, and Joy’s mourning her mother, we even got some exciting action scenes. We got a Jurassic Park style dinosaur with glowy eyes. We even got an exciting train scene. I love watching Ncuti in that flowing coat. He’s like a superhero in his cape atop that train in an ice storm. It was fun to watch him swinging a grappling hook to open the tomb encasing the starseed. But when the Doctor returns, both Joy and the starseed have ascended the stairs to the wild blue yonder above. While I had hoped for a little bit more of a presence of Villengard, I appreciated that this sentient star had more in mind than death and destruction. Villengard was so far from in control of the situation by that point and I loved that. Because, in reality, they’ve always been pathetic and small-time in the Doctor’s world. They acknowledge and appreciate the shared risk all sentient life takes with their actions. They like to think its the same worry people had when they fired up the Hadron Collider, but it’s closer in nature to corporations killing the environment we all depend on. “The Starseed will bloom and the flesh will rise,” wasn’t a threat, but a prelude to Joy’s ascent into the heavens. What’s more is that Trev and the other carriers of the star case will also live on forever in the sky. Leading the wisemen to Jesus and delivering Joy’s mother to the great beyond. If you think this episode didn’t make me cry, you’d be wrong.

The episode ends, but not before revisiting a couple of familiar faces. We see Ruby waiting by her phone for the Doctor to call, but instead it’s her mum. We can expect to see Ruby again, but probably not right away, which I’m fine with. It will give us time to get to know Varada Sethu as “Belinda Chandra,” a name which excites me on two levels. Is she related to Rani Chandra? And why does she have a different name from Mundy Flynn? Is this an Adeola/Martha cousins thing? Or is an Oswin/Clara different versions of the same person thing? Maybe it’s something more? The important thing is that I’m curious and excited to find out. I expect great things from Doctor Who, and if nothing else, chairs for the TARDIS. The future of Doctor Who feels bright from my perspective, I just wish the rest of the fandom felt the same way. 2025, or Hell Year™ 2.0,  is going to be a rough year for a lot of us. Like I said, I understand the need for escapism. You have my permission to feel good about yourself and to enjoy some Doctor Who next year. Fuck the haters. You have value and you deserve to feel joy.