#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

[itsriabby]

Mona Lisa - S.H. (Part 2)

“Bob Ross over here”

actor!steve x makeupartist!reader

Plot: When Steve meets his beloved makeup artist’s replacement, he swears it’s hate at first sight. But… is there truly such a thing?

Trope: enemies x lovers

Warnings: Mention of family trauma.

Helloooo! Thank you so much for the love on part one! Since you asked to make this a series, your wishes are my command. ;) Hope you like it!

Main Masterlist | Chapter 3

————————————————————————

“You’re a magician babe, I look bad as fuck!” Eddie exclaims excitedly, checking himself out in the mirror while posing. They were filming very action-filled scenes this week, so you had to do a couple bruises and cuts on Eddie’s face. Let’s say he liked the results.

“Right? You’re looking too hot Eds, you should get beaten up more often.” You nod to him, jokingly fanning your face.

“Gladly, if you do the honors.” He raises his eyebrows flirtatiously.

“I don’t know.” You shrug “I can’t fathom harming your beautiful face.” You smile at him, giggling a little.

“Oh babe, I would so enjoy it if it came from you.” He switched to a seductive voice, holding in his laughter.

“I���m gonna throw up.” Steve mutters, sitting on his phone in the corner of the room.

It’s been a couple weeks since filming began, and if one thing’s for certain, it’s the fact that Steve and you hate each other.

After that amazing first impression, you tried to be the better person and let it go. But Steve didn’t do the same. He started doing little things to piss you off; things like talking on the phone the whole time and moving excessively, pointing out non-existent errors (“you missed a spot here”,”you made me look too pale”,”actually, I liked it better before, change it”…) and being extremely late on purpose so you’d have to rush and do it in 10 minutes. It was making you go crazy.

So, you decided to inconvenience him just as much. You took the cushion off his chair, made sure to poke him in the eye a couple times, blended his makeup excessively hard, turned the air conditioner too cold, dropped his phone and belongings off your desk “by accident” because they’re in the way… It was a full on war now.

The quips and rude talking continued, not even trying to conceal it in front of other castmates. It was a known fact: Filming starts at 9 am, you come with your lines learned, Steve and you can’t stand each other.

Eddie was a pleasant surprise. He had joined the cast as a new character, and you immediately hit it off. He loves joking around and play flirting with you, and to be honest, you’re thankful for the lightness and fun he brings to the trailer.

“If I see vomit on the floor, you’re cleaning the whole thing with a toothbrush.” You harden your voice, making sure he hears it.

“Sure, why don’t you lend me yours?” He smiles sarcastically.

“Oh, you don’t own one? My bad, I assumed you did basic hygiene.” You return the same fake smile.

He rolls his eyes, falling back on the chair “You know I do, I see you getting unnecessarily close to me. You have a smell kink or something?”

You narrow your eyes “Nah, I’ve become accustomed to your odor, I can even stand it now.” You put your hands on your hips, like you’re proud of yourself.

“Haha.” he singsongs, visibly upset by you saying that, as if his bathroom isn’t filled with multiple scented products, 10-steps-routines, and a vast collection of colognes (he’s still trying to find his signature fragrance, ok?) “Her obsession is becoming a problem Munson, she’s just so in love with me.” He smirks, raising his eyebrows cockily.

Eddie puts his hands up in surrender and looks away, as if not wanting to take part in this whole situation.

You frown, offended “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, Steven.”

“How many times do I have to say my name’s not fucking Steven!” He throws his hands in the air.

“You know, I’d love to keep watching you guys fight, but Frankie has to do my hair, so I’ll leave you to it.” Eddie stands up from his chair and does a soldier salute.

“C’mon man, do I seriously have to be alone with her?” Steve pleads to him.

“Yup, I’ll give you that privilege.” Eddie winks at you and turns around to leave.

“Lucky me.” You mutter under your breath.

“I heard that!”

“That was the point.” You roll your eyes.

The trailer is filled with tense silence as soon as Eddie leaves. It’s been two weeks now filled with conversations like these. Most times you enjoy making him mad, it’s fun, and you have to admit it makes you feel alive. But it’s in times like these that you realize how little you know about each other, and how unbearable it feels to sit in quiet resentment, wondering what the next issue will be.

You’re putting concealer on his dark under eyes when he starts to scoff.

“What?” You spit.

He shrugs “That’s not how Angela did it.”

You step back and look at him with desdain “Well that’s too bad, cause she’s not your makeup artist, I am.”

“Trust me I know, I pray for you to get fired everyday..” he clenched his jaw, still not looking at you.

“What a coincidence! I pray for your character to get killed off, so we’re even.” You keep tapping the brush aggressively on his face.

He looks up at you, frowning, and grabs your wrist, taking your brush off of him “What is your problem?”

“My problem?” You raise your eyebrows incredulously “What’s YOUR problem? You started this with your “oh my dear Angela got sent home and they brought this ugly skank in her place” shit.”.

“Ok, first, I never said you were ugly, second, I said I was sorry for insinuating you slept your way here. Get over it.” He stated, signaling the one and two with his fingers.

He’s so fucking smug. You roll your eyes.

You were about to make another remark when you step back a second, remembering what he said. A slow smirk takes ahold of your face, and you point an accusatory finger at him “You think I’m pretty?”

He looks taken aback by your reaction, letting his hands fall to his thighs “That’s what you take from what I said?”

He looks annoyed, looking at you like you’re something he’d rather get rid off quickly. He raised a hand to point at your brush, and before you can say anything, he beats you to it “Whatever, just finish already so I can be gone.”

You poke your tongue into your cheek, a little butthurt that he didn’t play along with the rouse, and a little insecure that he didn’t answer your question “Yeah, ok.” You mutter.

The hateful banter bubble has popped, and now you stay quiet, the air feeling uncomfortable. You keep your eyes focused on your brush strokes, and Steve subtly looks at your face, trying to read you. He starts moving his leg up and down, and his hands grip the arms of the chair. He’s thinking of speaking when your phone goes off.

You frown, like you shouldn’t be getting that call, and quickly drop the brush on the table, muttering a soft “sorry” and beelining for your purse.

Steve can see your face dropping when you see who’s calling you, then you make a gesture to him as if asking him to wait one minute. He nods. “Mum? What’s wrong?” You whisper into the phone, trying to keep your voice low. “It’s- mum, no just- just lay down. I’ll be there before you know it.” You rub your forehead in a stressed manner, clenching and unclenching your first. It’s something Steve used to do when he talked to his parents too, one thing you seem to have in common. “Mom I’m at work I have to- I- yeah… I know mom.” Your shoulders drop “I’m hanging up ok? I’ll talk to you later.” He can still hear the faint muffled talking when you cut the line.

You go back to work, while Steve looks at you worriedly. The fight, passion and sass you usually sport has been drained out of you, and he doesn’t get why it bothers him so much.

He lightly taps your arm, trying to make you feel better in a way but not knowing how, since you both don’t really do this kinda stuff “Um, are you… are you ok?”

Your stare falls to his eyes, taking in his troubled expression. You shake off your uneasiness and try to put on a normal face “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

You hum your affirmation, still not looking at him.

He gets a little closer to inspect your face, and after a couple seconds he leans back and takes your hands, lowering them and holding them gently in his “Hey it’s still early, maybe you could… I don’t mind if you take a break, you know?” He looks briefly at the clock in the wall and looks back at you empathetically, giving you a tight smile.

You scowl at him, taking your hands away and letting his fall on his lap “Don’t pity me.”

You hate when this happens, he doesn’t even know the situation and he already feels bad for you. You’re supposed to be professional, you’re young for this job as it is, you don’t want to seen like a little kid that has to take “breaks” in between her already short work hours. You need to be taken seriously, you need to be looked at as an adult competent enough to do this job.

“Woah- I don’t-“ he holds his hands up in surrender, trying to explain but you cut him off.

“I am perfectly capable of doing this in the scheduled time.” You glower, rushing to pick up more product to work on him.

“I never said you weren’t.”

“But you implied it.” You raise your eyebrows, finishing with the base and getting the eyeshadow palette to make his skin look a little dirtier.

“No I didn’t! I just- geez I just wanted to be nice for a second, It won’t happen again… God.” He mutters the last part, exhaling loudly.

You clench your jaw and stay quiet for a second. He has a point.

You speak under your breath, not wanting to say he was right “Maybe I overreacted a little.”

“You think?” He breaks into a small smile, and neither of you speak after that, letting you get your work done.

After 5 more minutes of him looking at you or resting his eyes while you put his makeup on, you speak softly “That’s all.”

You step back, letting him look at himself in the mirror, checking out the results. He nods and gives you a polite smile “Thanks.”

You return it “Don’t thank me, I get paid for this.”

He scoffs at your joke, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told.”

He stands up, dusting his jeans off the specks of setting powder that might’ve fallen before “Well… I’ll see you tomorrow.”.

You nod “See you tomorrow.” He does an awkward wave goodbye and turns to leave “Oh, and Steven?”

“My name’s not-“ Sigh “What?”

You try to stifle your smile “Your fly is open.”

His eyes go big and he panic checks himself, quickly reaching for the zipper of his jeans. His face turns into a scowl when he sees you were taking a piss out of him “You think you’re so funny…”

“I know I am.” You giggle “Goodbye Steven.” You usher him out.

He rolls his eyes but lets a tiny smile slip out “Sure, whatever.”

He’s gone before you know it. A genuine smile comes to your face, and you hate the fact that you can’t hold it in.

This doesn’t mean you like him, it doesn’t even mean you tolerate him, not in the slightest. But… maybe he’s not that bad.

Like a Peace treaty… for now at least.

———————————————————————

The Peace treaty is out the fucking window.

“Give. It. Back.”

“No.”

“I swear to God, If that thing is not on my palm in the next three seconds…” You hold your hand out, pinching between your eyes in exasperation.

“It won’t be until you admit that I’m a good actor!” Steve holds your phone above both of you, his arm straight so there’s no way you can reach it.

Steve and you getting along barely lasted a day. Before you knew it, you both found new ways to bring chaos into the trailer again. You guess that’s just how it’s always gonna be with both of you.

“I mean, you’re here aren’t you?” You wave around to signal the set they’re in.

“That’s not- that doesn’t mean anything!”

“I don’t know Steve, maybe you’re blowing this out of proportion.” Robin shrugs, happily eating your bag of salted almonds.

You’ve become pretty good friends with Robin. She’s alone most of the time she has to be here, so one day you saw her eating alone and invited her to eat with you. She hasn’t left your side since.

When Steve said you can’t get rid of her, he really meant it. She follows you everywhere when Steve’s away, and even when he is, she usually takes your side, which makes you like her even more than you already do. She gets your humor, and she also gets the way young women are treated in here, so it’s not a surprise that you bonded over bad-mouthing certain creepy producers. It’s nice to have a girl friend here. You didn’t know you needed one so much.

“What?” His eyebrows scrunch and he looks at Robin like she betrayed him “Robs! Bob Ross over here said I was a telenovela actor, I’m not a telenovela actor!”

“Alright, alright… Calm your tits Steven it was just a joke.” You try to take the phone out of his hand while he’s not looking, but still, no luck.

“It’s not a joke, it’s an insult to my work.” His shoulders slump while he still keeps your phone high up. You can hear a sad tone on his voice.

Robin looks pitiful now, stopping her chomp on your food to give you a “fix it” look.

Ok, maybe it was a sensitive subject.

You cross your arms taking a deep breath “You’re a good actor.” You mutter in one tone, giving in. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’ll be upset by my comment”.

He raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, I knew you’d be upset, but I was hoping towards a passive aggressive talk back, not for you to go all sad puppy.” You look around, trying to avoid his gaze.

He smiles a little connivingly and drops his hands down, handing you your phone “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“Don’t push it” you give him a pointed look, and he nods with a tight-lipped smile.

——————

You’re packing up your things a couple days later when you hear knocks on the trailer’s door.

“Cleaning lady!”

You smile recognizing the voice, even in its high-pitched form “Come in Eddie.”

He opens the door, walking in that laid back attitude he always has. Robin walks behind, rushing around him to sit next to you. A couple meters away, Steve slowly steps into the room.

“So,” Eddie claps his hands together, looking at you with an all-knowing smirk “We have a proposition.”

You raise your eyebrows skeptically “I love you Eds, but if this is you asking me to have an orgy with you guys, I’m gonna have to pass.”

He cackles at your response, shaking his head no “Damn babe, you really know how to let me down… But no, it’s not that. I got tickets to a very limited, very exclusive party in the valley tomorrow night, and you’re coming with us.” He makes a little dance, grinning from ear to ear.

Robin nods enthusiastically beside you.

You give them a fake smile “I don’t know guys, I’d love to but I’m not sure I’ll have the time.” Truly you did have the time, but you were worried about leaving your mom home alone. Your depressed, alcohol-dependent, messed-up mom.

It’s not something you talk about a lot, plus you hadn’t really made any friends in the city until now, so it hadn’t been an issue until today.

But you need to keep these friends, and telling them the extent of your family trauma is not really the best way to make them think you’re cool.

“Bffff, of course you do!” Eddie pushes your shoulder softly “C’mon, you just have to get all dolled up for me, and I’ll pick you up from wherever.”

You silently think about it, maybe one night away won’t make much of a difference.

“Pleaseeeeeee, you can’t leave me alone with these pigs.” Robin jokes about Eddie and Steve, the last one looking at you, also waiting on your answer.

He’s got his hands in his pockets. It’s like he’s trying to make it seem like he couldn’t care less, but you can see the way he’s staring. Does he want you to say yes?

Do you want him to want you to say yes?

You do. Why?

You surprise yourself with the answer “Sure, alright I’ll go.”

Eddie picks you up in a bear hug, and Robin takes you from him to hold you too, jumping around and babbling excitedly non-stop about how fun you’re gonna have and how long it’s been since she’s gone to a party like this.

Lifting your stare from Robin’s shoulder, you meet Steve’s eyes. He notices and nods at you, smiling genuinely.

You return it, and nod slightly to Robin, making a face as if saying “She’s a little crazy.”

He chuckles softly and shrugs his shoulders, raising his eyebrows as if saying “What can we do?”

And it’s in this moment, you think Steve Harrington is rubbing off on you. He’s still insufferable, don’t get me wrong, but… maybe, just maybe, you could get used to it.

At the same time, Steve stares at you thinking the same thing, wondering if maybe the warm feeling inside him is a signal of a blooming friendship.

Well, he’ll see just what that feeling is the following night, in that extravagant party, where he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you, you and the guy shamelessly flirting with you.

————————————————————————

Hiiii! Did you like iiit? Someone said to make a taglist, so I added the people who commented and reposted. If you want to be on it tell me and you’re in! :)

@chelseypprimrose @stilesbilinskixx @campcampie @boomitsallie1 @spelliwasunder @wishing-on-a-staranise @stranger-things-mania @irrelevantbutembarrassing @thepassionatereader @cosmicspacewitch @seatnights @talkativecarnation @littlemisslovestoread @skipper2505 @aphetropy

[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.

[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

[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! :]

[poemcal]

hiii, I don't know if I could make a request for Meeks, where the reader is part of society and in a meeting she confesses her love to him through a poem. make it something fluffy and romantic :)

warning: none

summary: where you are part of the dead poets society, but you have a little secret. You are in love with Meeks.

a/n: since English is not my first language this may contain a lot of mistakes!! and ty for the request I was running out of ideas ⭐️🤍 and im sorry If its too short at first it was too long so It didn't fit 😭

You’d been part of the Dead Poets Society since started. You loved English class and had an undeniable passion for poetry. When you heard about the "Dead Poets Society," you didn’t hesitate to join the boys in bombarding Mr. Keating with questions. You quickly became a regular at the meetings in the cave near Welton, making it a ritual you couldn’t miss, not even when sick. Being part of the society made you feel special, but more than your love for reading, there was Steven Meeks. You’d had a crush on him since you entered Welton, and the more you saw him in meetings, the stronger your feelings grew. He didn’t seem to notice you, always sitting with Pitts or Charlie, even if like he hates you, but that didn’t stop your heart from falling for him. One meeting, as usual, started with the group discussing what to write, and Neil excitedly encouraged everyone to try something new. You were eager to share a poem, and after some playful jokes, it was your turn. Nervously, you stood up, holding your small notebook tightly, and said, “I wrote this as soon as I got to my dorm, so please don’t judge me;

"There he goes, the boy with brown eyes, thinking of everyone but me. There he goes, the boy with brown eyes, believing he’s all alone while I’m right here. There he goes, the boy with brown eyes, obsessed with love yet unaware he has mine. There he goes, the boy with brown eyes, smiling at the wind but not at me. There he goes, the boy with brown eyes, ignoring my presence while I long for a piece of his. There he goes, my ill-fated dream, for though I try to forget, his ghost lingers near. And here I am, hoping for the day, when he looks at my way and says, ‘There goes the girl with brown eyes, who loved me more than she could ever received.’"

When you finished, you quickly looked at Meeks, hoping he’d recognize that the poem was about him. He was just as stunned as everyone else but quickly turned away, avoiding your gaze. You noticed Pitts whispering something to him, which seemed to leave Meeks even more shocked than your poem did.

“That was amazing!” Knox exclaimed, clapping for you. You laughed nervously, sitting back down next to him.

“That was beautiful. Reminds me of someone,” Neil said, eyeing Meeks. “Your turn.”

Meeks froze for a moment, before grabbing a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. He cleared his throat, holding it with trembling hands as he stood up and began to read:

"Your smile, so captivating, blinds me in the torment of my love. I see you pass, and my heart races to find yours. But my cowardice stops me, keeping my soul from shouting to the world:I am yours. And my lips fall silent when your eyes burn into mine with the passion of your love. Oh, how I am yours, how you are mine, yet neither of us can live this way. Neither of us can hear the bells crying. Neither of us can laugh without dying. My love, imprison me in your endless agony, and I will die tasting the sweetness of your lips."

When Meeks finished reciting his poem, the whole group watched the two of you, the only ones too clueless to notice. Knox nudged your shoulder, and you looked at him confused, and that’s when you realized you weren’t the only one secretly in love.

“Oh, come on! Am I the only idiot here watching these two not kiss?” Charlie exclaimed, exhausted. “You're in love! Do something before I go and kiss Meeks”

Without words, you just heard the others laughing, and you let out a shy laugh. Meeks walked up to you timidly and handed you the paper.

“It’s for you. It always was,” he murmured, and you were left speechless. “I like you... a lot, so much that I’m afraid to look at you and have you figure it out.”

“I like you too, Meeks. A lot,” you whispered, standing up, taking his hand, and pressing your lips to his in a sweet and delicate kiss. You forgot your whole group of friends were watching, witnessing your romantic moment.

“What are we now?” Meeks asked, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes sparkling as you pulled away.

“What do you think, idiot?” you said with a smile and gave him a quick kiss on the lips again.

Needless to say, after that, all the poets teased Meeks that night in the cave, but he couldn’t have been happier to finally confess his feelings, and that they were reciprocated. He loved you, and you loved him. From that day on, you and Steven were always holding hands, you filling him with kisses, and him filling you with poems every time he saw you, whether they were his or someone else’s, but he wanted to remind you that he would always love you and could never get tired of you. And he never failed; he always made you feel loved.

another a/n: Y'ALL GOT ME WRITING POEMS IN ENGLISH THAT WAS SO DIFFICULT THAT I HAVE TO ASK CHAT GPT TO HELP ME TRANSLATE IT 😭😭 sorry if it doesn't sounds too good tho!!!!

[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.”

[yanderes-galore]

Can I get a Steven from Steven Universe Future yandere alphabet, please?

Sure! Here's what I came up with :)

Original Steven Concept I Did Here.

Yandere Alphabet - Steven Universe

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Fear of loss, Trauma/PTSD, Steven's a mess, Blood, Violence mention, Attachment issues, Jealousy, Anger issues, Manipulation, Stalking, Kidnapping, Dark themes, Poor mental health, Angst, Possessive behavior, General yandere themes, Delusional behavior, Unhealthy behavior, Forced relationship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Steven is naturally clingy due to his past. He doesn't like leaving you so he comes off as smothering. He's used to losing others and now that he's found someone new... he doesn't want to let go.

Steven comes off as intense, even when he doesn't mean to. He just wants to cover you in hugs and kisses. He just wants to feel your warmth and not be alone again.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Steven has always been a person who wants to solve problems by talking them out. However, with his new unpredictability... there may be times he gets more violent than he'd like to be.

He feels conflicted and horrible the moment he sees blood on his hands. Yet he quickly hides it. After all... you shouldn't view him as a monster just yet, right?

He wants to enjoy you for a while longer before you leave him.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Steven would not purposefully try to mock you unless you set him off or something. He's impulsive though, which may lead to him kidnapping you without thinking things through.

Abduction would be a last ditch effort for him to not lose his darling. He cares for you the best he can all while trying to self soothe himself in your embrace. In abduction you can truly see how messed up the poor young man is.

He always asks how he can help. He denies you your freedom and quickly becomes the only thing you see. He's in denial of everything... including his toxicity.

He's been struggling to find a purpose, but when he meets you... He just knows he's needed you since he met you.

He just hopes you understand him... eventually.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He probably doesn't mean to, but it ends up happening anyways. He's so caught up in what he wants or trying to "help" and "care" for you... only to forget you really need space, not him.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He may try to hide it, but in the end he's very vulnerable with you. He struggles to be open but it ends up spilling out of him anyways. When he's vulnerable... it's almost upsetting when he holds you close and sobs.

However... he's still dangerous... and you know that.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Genuinely upset and you may set off his temper. He may fight back verbally, but even with just words... his powers can get hectic by accident.

If he ever hurt you by accident, he pauses and either isolates himself or tries to make things better again.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No and he hates it.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Well, with this one there can be a lot of candidates due to how volatile Steven can be. As I said before, he'd never mean to hurt you but he may do it by accident.

Seeing his mental breakdowns... seeing him snap at others... at some point he'll take it too far.

In a fit of desperation, he may accidentally harm you or someone close to you. You're terrified once you see his hands and the floor covered in blood. The realization of what he's done may break both of you.

The thought is unnerving... as that blood can either belong to someone you know... or you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

In the end, somehow, Steven wants to have you two married and happy together. Yet he's so emotionally driven and plagued with trauma, that even if you tried to help him, it only hurts the both of you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Yes. Steven has a fear of being left behind. So when he sees you turn your attention to other people, it affects him. He'll usually try to deal with it alone, often going into a depressive state and crying about it in his room.

Honestly, him just being sad is the better option. All you have to do is comfort him afterwards. Although... he is fully capable of lashing out, which would be dangerous for anyone around him. We've seen in Future how he gets.

Left unchecked and someone may get hurt.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Obsessive, Clingy, Affectionate, Manipulative, Controlling, Needy, Volatile, Possessive, Intimidating, Caring, Smothering.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Pulling from my older concept, you two most likely met after he left home to have a fresh start. You offer to be his friend, to help him, and he ends up feeling attached. However... soon friendship turns into more than friendship.

He wants you to be lovers, to be married, to support him.

He's moving too fast with his feelings which causes issues for both of you. He stresses out over the fact you don't feel the same and worries you'll leave him. He doesn't want to lose you...

So it seems he must prevent that somehow.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Well, he's not really trying to mask anything. He may try to hide his darker nature... but you'll find out eventually.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He doesn't like hurting you, the only times he does is by accident. So your punishment may be something like... forcing you by his side or something like that. Isolation punishes him too, so he'll do the opposite.

He'll use his powers to chain you to his side until he knows you won't leave him.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Most of them if it meant he wouldn't be left behind.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

I like to think at first he's really patient... but as he gets worse and worse... he's impatient.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Honestly, if anything bad happened to you, he'd snap. Like... monster Steven snap.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

A little and maybe.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Childhood trauma. One of the main things dealt with in Future.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Steven is used to helping. He'd do whatever he can to see you happy again. Sometimes he's even unaware that he could be the one causing it due to his delusions. He'll hold you close, kiss your head, and just stay beside you. He hates it when you're upset.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

SKIPPED

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Get this man the help he needs, put up boundaries, and probably get the poor man a therapist. He'll be much easier to manage. (Also he just really needs help.)

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Unintentionally, afterwards he panics and tries to fix things.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Steven may actually be a worship yandere at times. There's times he's just so grateful that you want to help him and he just wants to keep you forever. He'd do anything to have you. Just so he can keep your warmth all to himself.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Anything from months to a couple years.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not on purpose.

[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.

[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.

[npuppet]

LaDs rambles #6

Songs/mini playlists I think fit each LI + YouTube links (I don’t have Spotify)

‼️A lot of songs are explicit so listen at your own digression‼️

⭐️ are personal favorites (recommended)

(It starts out with overused Insta songs lol) (I branch into more niche songs out I promise)

Zayne:

Disease by Lady Gaga (obv) (“I could play the doctor, I can cure your disease, If you were a sinner I could make you believe”) (die Astra)

⭐️Digital Silence by Peter McPoland (what if Foreseer was in modern time and was a desperate to warn MC of her future?) (“They’re gonna blind date everyone until you love them too”)

Arcade by Duncan Laurence (“Loving you is a losing game” huh? Man)

Wash. by Bon Iver (“Where ice snaps and the hold clast are known”) (It just fits the calmness he has I dunno)

Changing of the Seasons by Two Door Cinema Club (not because he fell out of love with MC but he doesn’t seem to remember as much as the other LI’s) (“The door is open, you whispered to me, As you stood frozen in deep uncertainty”)

Christmas Kids by Roar (“The Christmas kids were nothing but a gift, And love is a tower where all of us can live”) (just thinking if Zayne did remember)

⭐️Cursed Romantics by Maude Latour (bc who said Zayne can’t be girlypop?) (“‘Cause I’m obsessive when you call me “baby”, Your love is poison and no don’t can save me”)

Heavy Eyes by Zach Bryan (I just know Zayne would have tired eyes if he didn’t deal with his myth trauma right) (“Remember all the days we had, I say it ain’t so bad, Keep those heavy eyes soft and kind”)

⭐️Am I Dreaming by Metro Boomin, A$AP Rocky and Roisee (Dawnbreaker and Zayne) (“One of a kind, one of one, the only one, Got one shot and one chance to take it once”)

Rest of the LI’s under the cut

Caleb:

Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens (based on Caleb and MC being experimented on and MC dying over and over, tragic and existential) (“What could I have said to raise you from the dead?…And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best, though it never felt right”) 🙂

⭐️i am not who i was by Chance Peña (“so if I fly to far, Will I still have a place inside your heart?…Will you love me for who I am not who I was”) (it’s him, it’s Caleb)

SPIT IN MY FACE! by ThxSoMch (man will do and tolerate anything to be with MC I mean) (“I don’t know what to say except you’re mine mine mine mine mine”)

⭐️Nobody’s Solider by Hozier (this song fits him like a glove, like his whole deal is that he’s trying to wrestle control back in his life) (“Holding my world together with a bootstring, Living the dream”)

Freaks by Surf Course (after he left MC in the explosion) (“My head is filled with parasites, Black holes cover up my eyes”)

Broken by lovelytheband (“I like that your lonely, Lonely like me, I could be lonely with you”) (our obsessive king)

⭐️Tangerine by Glass Animals (he would get on his knees anyways-) (“You only look at me properly now, When you’re drunk watching movies, Where are you? What happened?”)

Sweet Talk by Saint Motel (at this point I think I’m just giving him a degradation kink…) (“Yeah, well, I’m not scared, I’m not going nowhere, Yeah, you might want me to drop dead, but I dont even care”)

She Said No by BoyWithUke (mmm angsty) (“I don’t blame you, I hate me too, but I can’t, Do a lot to change it or the thoughts in my head”)

Sylus:

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High by Arctic Monkeys (just based off of reckless MC) (“Incapable of making alright decisions, and having bad ideas”)

⭐️Like Him by Tyler the Creator (but very Dawnbreaker coded too so) (based on when MC got flashbacks in the story with Sylus but still doesn’t remember fully) (“How could I miss something that I’ve never had?”)

MILLION DOLLAR BABY by Tommy Richman (bc why not) (“I could clean up good for you, Oh, I know right from wrong”)

The World We Knew by Frank Sinatra (when MC went on a rampage after Sylus left, she’s real for that) (“Each road we took turned into gold, But the dream was too much for you to hold”)

Used to the Darkness by Des Rocs (just feels like Sylus)

Adventure of a Lifetime by Coldplay (ok but hear me out) (“I’m a dream that died by light of day, Gonna hold up half the sky and say, Only I own me”)

Bury Me Face Down by grandson (vengeful dragon) (“Wanted with a bounty on my head, But somehow someway, I’ma keep moving along”)

⭐️City on a Hill by Mon Rovîa (Sylus trying to comfort MC abt their past) (“Who was by your side, When the fire subsides, And it rains in your head?”)

⭐️Gold by Spandau Ballet (what was going through Sylus’ head when MC started to like him back lol) (“Nothing left to make me feel small, Luck has left me standing so tall”)

Rafayel:

Sex, Drugs, Etc. by Beach Weather (something I think he and MC should listen to on an open hood convertible kind of night by the sea) (“Dressing up for polaroids and cigarettes, Socilaize, romanticize the life”)

Softcore by The Neighborhood (kinda based off of the theory that Rafayel wears safety pins) (“You’ve been my muse for a long time, You get me through every dark night”)

⭐️All I Want by Kodaline (“When you said your last goodbye, I died a little bit inside”) (ow)

Here With Me by d4vd (another slow heartbreak song what’s new) (“I wish I could live through every memory again, Just one more time before we float off in the wind”)

Applause by Lady Gaga (bc I’m on a Lady Gaga binge lol) (“Pop culture was in art, now art’s in pop culture in me!”)

⭐️Blood // Water by grandson (I think alternative fits Rafayel) (“The price of your greed, your son, and your daughter”)

Drama by Spencer Sutherland (Raf is just feeling himself)

Love Me Less by MAX (I think it’s fitting since he’s not as forthright with his underground activities as Sylus is)

Xavier:

I Love You So by The Walters (I think it fits his 5* Outcast’s Voyage and just his story in general) (“I’m going to pack my things and leave you behind, This feelings old, and I know that I’ve made up my mind”)

Army Dreamers by Kate Bush (based on that the people who came with Xavier all had dreams but turned into Wanderers instead) (“We’ve a bunch of purple flowers to decorate a mammy’s hero”)

Towards the Sun by Rihanna (“Shadows chase me far from home, I remember when my heart was filled with gold”) (also funny that the movie this song is from is based on aliens lol)

⭐️When Will I See You Again by Shakka (song is literally made for my poor boy) (“Shooting stars never fly for me, My hearts on Mars, kinda hard to see”)

Alien Boy by Oliver Tree (just bc) (“I still make it work, But it’s overrated and somehow, played out”)

⭐️Are We Ready? (Wreck) by Two Door Cinema Club (I dunno sometimes the lyrics aligned with his story to me) (“I saw the world today, It comes in green and gray”)

Jealous by Eyedress (our jealous possessive king lol)

All LI’s:

Mind Over Matter (Reprise) by Young the Giant

Harpy Hare by Yarlokre (yup)

⭐️Chamber of Reflection by Mac DeMarco

her by JVKE

Again and Again by The Bird and the Bee (need I explain?)

ALL GIRLS ARE THE SAME by RØNIN (lmao)

⭐️Mr. Feel by John Michael Howell

can’t slow down by almost monday (kinda a song I imagine MC, Caleb, and Zayne playing on a roadtrip when they were younger)

Aphrodite by Ethan Gander (yearning my favorite (: )

We’ll Meet again by Very Lynn (obv)

MC lol:

Daydream by Gunter Kallmann Choir (MC and Sylus)

GONE, GONE / THANK YOU by Tyler the Creator (give girl a break yknow??)

Wasted Summers by juju<3 (after Caleb left her in the explosion)

I wanna be your lover by €CHO€D 4W4Y (yessir)

⭐️Apple by Charli xcx (once delulu, always delulu)

Sunshine by OneRepublic

Sick of Being Young by Krooked Kings

Feel free to leave ur songs u attribute to the LI’s ((:

[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

[ast3ryne]

Go the Distance

Request: #9 & #17 on the post on my prof @thesurroundingbeauty

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader

Warnings: None tbh (but if there should be lmk)

Word Count: 1714

Summary: Regardless of how much you like Steven Grant, it seems like he just can’t stay put, and the one thing you hate almost as much as infidelity is inconsistency.

A/N: I’ve actually quite missed writing, sorry if it’s kinda boring I did find myself drawing this out a tad bit, also unedited asf

Steven Grant, public nuisance to some, clumsy and unreliable to others, but above all, your boyfriend…for now. Don’t get it wrong, Steven is a sweetheart, the sweetest even, but he’s inconsistent. Not just that he doesn’t text all the time, or doesn’t keep up the same energy and attitude with you inconsistent (that’s dealable, that’s every guy you’ve been with so far), no he literally disappears for days, weeks even, at a time. Not a word to you, his job doesn’t seem to notice, or when they do they don’t care all that much, it’s like Steven Grant just…poofs into thin air at least twice a month.

You’ve tried to get him to explain, for any reassurance so your head isn’t rife with thoughts of a secret family, a wife he’s hiding, something to justify it, but Steven acts like he was never gone to begin with. As though you imagined him seemingly going missing every time you guys find your footing again.

Which led you to today, you demanded he take you back to his flat, something he’s always insisted against after dates, and opting to stay with you instead.

“It’s quite a mess, you know.” He’d muttered as he slowly pushed open the door to his flat, and had he been anyone else but Steven maybe that would’ve been surprising, but you pretty much expected that from him at this point.

You both stepped inside, him a bit more fidgety than usual, but then again the usual was pretty damn fidgety anyways. You’d grown to love those little things about Steven, which is perhaps why instead of dumping him, like you planned, you delayed it even more.

Carefully, you stepped into the room, taking in the decor, if it could be called that. It’s more like his obsession with the history spilled into even this aspect of his life, walls of books, everywhere, above his bed, to the far right end, hell even the middle of the room was separated by a bookshelf, which perfectly framed the vibrant blue aquamarine in the middle of it, it was the most color in the space actually, so naturally you gravitated toward it, Steven mirroring your movements and landing on the opposite side of the tank.

“What’s its name?” You finally say, breaking the silence that felt like it was holding the both of you hostage, and Steven himself seemed relieved at that because he immediately piped up.

“Gus, he’s rather anomalous actually. He’s grown back that-” he gestured to your side, “-fin back a few days ago. Though that shouldn’t be possible, considering he was born that way.”

You almost respond, wanting to ask what exactly he means by that, but he presses his hand to the glass, the fish swimming up quite happily and blowing bubbles at him. Steven. You find yourself thinking that with him a lot, just his name, and his beautiful face popping in your head to follow.

“What about all of those, the statues and stuff.” You ask, moreso to keep from the drawn out silences again, but much to your delight Steven’s face lights up, right away he moves on from the fish tank and rounds to your side, grabbing your hand and pulling you both into the nook you presume he does most of his work in, because the book stacks are even messier than others. Papers skewed about, some with handwriting that could only be Steven’s with how borderline illegible it is, but somehow still clearly meant to be cursive. Steven.

“This…is where I do most of my work, all of my research, general inquiry and delving, it’s my little hobbit hole so-to-speak,” he starts, moving a stack out of the way as he pulls out the desk chair, “and of course, most of it revolves around egyptian mythology, as confusing and slightly convoluted as that can be.

You see her,” he asks as he picks up a small figurine, thought it’s more of a statement, “this is the goddess, Tefnut, who’s pretty much the goddess of water, in simple terms and-”

You don’t understand much after that actually, and while that may have to do with the fact that you know next to nothing about Egyptian mythology, it’s more likely because you’re distracted. He moves back and forth through the small space, his eyes alight as he went through the gods in the Ennead and their stories, though if he asked you to recite any of it back to him…well you’d be talking about different topics entirely.

You were far more interested in the way his messy dark hair flopped with every excited movement, or how his eyes flit between you and his work, making sure you were still listening, or how everytime he paused to catch his breath, his pupils dilated all over again at the sight of you.

It softened you, as much as someone who doesn’t really want to let go can be softened that is, but he is still inconsistent. You turned to the rest of the room, your eyes glossing over the bed, and then doubling back at the restraints on the support beams, oh.

Steven’s still rambling, though he kinda lost you the second he tried to explain the afterlife process, so you place a hand on his shoulder, gently, but pretty firmly guiding both of you over to his bed, pushing him down so he’s sat with you standing over him.

“Steven, I need you to be honest, very honest with me…is there someone else?” Actually, that’s not what you were going to say, but that question bubbled to the surface, and it just seemed much more important than…well if he was a part of an organized crime group.

He stared at you, but not so much at you, more through you, like he was paying attention to you, but listening to something else…except the room is quiet.

“Steven?” you repeat, hoping to snap him out or something.

“Y/N…” he starts, sighing as he takes his hands in his, handling you with the care you’ve grown to appreciate so much, like you’re one of his fragile artifacts, “I’m not seeing anyone but you…and I’m not interested in it either.”

Your brows furrow, as reassuring as that is, that explains nothing.

“Then explain-“ you pull your hands away, picking up the leg restraint nearby instead “-explain that. And the constant disappearing, I mean for goodness sake Steven whenever it feels like we’re doing good for longer than a week you just-you disappear!” Your voice raises at that last part, the built up frustration surfacing as you finally have the chance to question him.

Again, he stared up at you, through you, his mind elsewhere.

The two of you stay like that for several beats, in the silence, your mind racing while was his miles ahead, or behind, you truly can’t tell with this man.

Finally, he takes your hands back into his, gripping them like you’ll disappear the second he lets go, he sighs, closes his eyes, nods, shakes it, and nods again, before opening them.

“I sleep walk, that’s why I have those restraints. And I know, believe me I know how insane this is going to sound, but it’s dangerous, not just for me but for everyone else,” not once does he break eye contact with you, which is so unlike Steven who sputters when you hold his gaze a few seconds too long, “I go to sleep, and wake up miles from home, with no idea how I’ve found myself there, no clue what I did when I was ‘asleep’, just the knowing something is so so wrong.”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes for a couple of beats before continuing, “I don’t- can’t trust myself Y/N. My life constantly feels like it’s falling apart around me, I spend days at a time trying to piece together what happened, how I could’ve gotten away from myself, the only constant in my life right now is..well you. And I’ve gone and mucked this up too.”

You’ve never seen Steven like this, so sure of what he’s saying, and this being the context that allows you to see this side is, well, frightening. He isn’t partaking in infidelity and half-truths, he’s dealing with whatever this insanity is. And it’s taking a toll on him, as sure as he is about what he’s saying, his brows are scrunched, trying to gauge your reaction, his hands, steady as they are, are sweating profusely at the moment, he’s even chewing the inside of his bottom lip.

You close your eyes, soaking everything in, and then sit beside him, never pulling your hands away.

“If the only thing I have to worry about is your body taking you against your will,” You start, your own nervousness seeping into your voice at your words, as if that’s not a wildly concerning statement to begin with, “then all I ask…is that you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow you.”

At that, Steven’s eyes widen, maybe in surprise that you’re not telling him to see a ward, or simply because that’s the last thing he expected to hear, it’s certainly the last thing you expected to say today.

“Y/N…I…that’s-“ his grip on your hand tightens even more, like a warning, but he certainly wasn’t warning you. “-so you still want to be with me?”

“Yes, Steven.”

“Sleepwalking, eccentricities and all?”

“Yes Steven.”

“Truly are you sure? I understand if you’re just being nic-“

“I’m absolutely certain Steven.”

“Even though I really am quite a mes-“

You shake your head pulling your hands away, and for a second his face falls, like that action alone was you saying no despite everything you’ve said , so you grab his face, pulling him in so your lips meet before he can spiel any more doubt. He tenses first, and then melts, letting his hands meet your wrists, holding you firm, yet again, like you’re bound to disappear if he lets go.

Neither of you pull away, so you sit in silence, a much more comfortable silence, as your foreheads are pressed together, Steven’s dark doe eyes staring at you like you are the most precious artifact in this room, if not all of London.

[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!”)