#this was like 3000 words when i was drafting it

[aromantic-shadow]

Fuck it.

What Actually Happened to Sonic in Forces?

Rules of engagement (since I had to wade through discourse in my research): This is not meant to dictate your headcannons or even how you view cannon, just to lay out what I think happened for myself and anyone else who’s interested. It’s also not a critique per se- while I will make fun of the writing, I have no interest in blasting specific writers. We’re here to have fun. Speaking of which, TW for discussion of war, torture, solitary confinement, real-world inhumane prison conditions and its effects, mental illness and psychosis, and possibly other stuff I forgot. Take care of yourselves.

So.

Remember this?

[ID: Sonic Forces loading screen. Amy and Knuckle’s sprites are shown. Knuckles says, “He’s captured in the orbiting prison. My spy there says he’s in a solitary confinement cell, and they’ve been torturing him for months.]

If you’re at all familiar with Forces, or Sonic in general, you know that Sonic was captured by Eggman and presumed dead for six months, and that when they found him, Knuckles, casual as ever, says that he’s been tortured for months. Sonic is just as casual when he gets out- you’d think he’d had to sit through a boring chemistry lecture rather than torture.

This insane addition is characteristic of Forces- a story chock-full of dark elements that beg to be taken seriously despite no follow-through. There’s also the matter of translation; it’s common knowledge at this point that both lines referencing torture were added in the English dub, though what the Japanese version says varies depending on who you ask. There’s an interesting story buried somewhere under the mess that is Sonic Forces, and while rewriting is fun, that’s not my goal today. My objective is to take the information we have and try to make sense of it.

So, what exactly happened to Sonic during his captivity?

The Writers’ Original Intent

Before I move on to the actual detective work, let’s clear up the translation issue.

In the English version, Knuckles makes this announcement to the Resistance:

“Sonic is alive!... He’s captured in the orbiting prison. My spy there says he’s in a solitary confinement cell, and they’ve been torturing him for months.”

Later, the resistance contacts Rouge- who is implied to be the spy Knuckles referenced, or at least their contact. This is their conversation:

Knuckles: Rouge. It’s about time! How’s Sonic doing? Rouge: He’s been better. They’re getting ready to banish him into space. Silver: What? You can’t be serious! Rouge: Eggman’s been keeping Sonic alive all this time. He’s been waiting to show him his completed empire before banishing him. Knuckles: And torturing Sonic just to pass the time. That’s low, even for Eggman.

These are the only two mentions of torture in the English dub, and they’re shockingly out of place. So what did the Japanese version say? (Since I don’t speak Japanese, I got these lines from a fan sub on YouTube.)

Knuckles (to the Resistance):

“He’s locked up in a prison out in space. Reportedly, he’s been there for months, and they’ve been giving him a hell of a time…”

Rouge’s Briefing:

Knuckles: Rouge! Took ya long enough. How’s Sonic doing? Rouge: Not particularly good. He’s just about to get thrown into space. Silver: Wha… What did you say?! Rouge: Seems like Eggman’s been planning from the start to make him see the Eggman Empire’s completion, then chuck him out into space when he’s lost all hope. Knuckles: So he’s just been messing with Sonic to kill time then… Eggman, you bastard! You won’t get away with this!

I was surprised at how dark these lines were. No, torture was not mentioned specifically, but the characters are all taking this seriously, and Sonic’s clearly not having a good time. Also, there are… implications. “They’ve been giving him a hell of a time” and “he’s just been messing with Sonic to kill time” are not things you say about a villain following the Geneva Conventions. (We’ll get there.)

Assuming the translation is accurate, this and the English version constitute “cannon”. (I’m too tired to research other translations.) However, I did a little research into earlier versions of the script in an effort to figure out the writers’ intent: was the story originally dark, and got toned down? Or was it grimed up in revision and translation?

Researching this was literally the worst. Apparently, someone leaked what they claimed were several earlier script drafts. From what I saw, they seemed legit, but the original leak got taken down- so for at least one draft, the only evidence I have of its existence is a wiki and a couple screenshots. Naturally, this phantom draft is the most interesting one. Just my luck.

Let’s start with the more credible draft, which you can view here . It’s an interesting read, but let’s focus on the most relevant passages. First, we have yet another version of Rouge’s briefing:

Rouge: Knuckles, can you hear me?      Knuckles: Rouge, huh… How's Sonic doing?    Rouge: Not good at all. Sonic will soon be… executed.          Silver: What? Is that true?  Rouge : It seems that Eggman has been planning to make Sonic fall into despair upon showing him the completion of the Eggman Empire before executing him from the start.

(They said he was going to be executed out loud. Dang.)

Second, let’s see how this draft shows the first prison scene:

Sonic: What's with these tremors…?      The power of the device that binds Sonic's hands turns off. Zavok appears.          Zavok: Sonic. It is a little early, but your time has come.         Sonic: Looks like something troubling is going on… Does it have anything to do with all the shaking?      Zavok: Shut up. That is none of your concern. Best prepare yourself and stay quiet. Sonic: Prepare myself? Now that my handcuffs are off, I probably don't need to do that.     Zavok: How foolish… Even if your body is free, you're just going to be defeated by me here.         Sonic: I haven't fought a good fight in a while. Let's go, Zavok!        

(Uhm. Zavok just fucking tells this poor kid that he’s going to die. Damn.)

That’s the most complete, mostly credible early draft I can find. There’s one more interesting tidbit, from a draft that I can ONLY find in this wiki and a couple photographs I found floating around. It’s yet another version of Zavok and Sonic’s conversation:

Sonic is bound with energy manacles. His head is bowed and he appears tired and beaten. He barely looks up when Zavok appears. Sonic: Hey, what's shaking? The energy holding Sonic's arms in place cuts off. Zavok: Sonic. It's a little earlier than planned, but your time has come. Sonic: Is that right? Maybe you should take care of that shaking problem first. Zavok: Never mind that. Come quietly to face your end. Sonic raises his head, revealing a feral smile. Sonic: You think you're gonna end me, huh? Now that I'm free, get ready to be disappointed. Zavok: So foolish, little hedgehog. You may be unchained but you are not free. I will defeat you right here. Sonic: I'm free all right. Free to cut loose! Let's dance, Zavok!

(Fuck. Fuck that’s dark. I’m half convinced that this was fully made up it’s so dark.)

So, if these early drafts are credible (keyword IF), then Forces was originally intended to be darker than it came off in the final draft.

That said, these aren’t cannon. They’re early drafts, and while they give us insight into the writing process, they aren’t the story we got. So let’s focus on what happened in the cannon versions.

What Actually Happened:

So let’s look at Sonic Forces. I’m going to ignore the dialogue we’ve already discussed going forward. Those lines’ purpose was to feed us information rather than show it, and with the translation differences, it can be easy to get caught up on details rather than the big picture.

Here’s what we know so far, regardless of translation: Sonic was captured by Eggman and held for six months on the Death Egg. He was presumed dead, and did not have a fun time in captivity, whatever that means. He’s going to be executed (banished, thrown, whatever it’s basically killing him even if it's a stupid method) in a few days.

Alright, enough listening to people talk. Let’s look at our only real glimpse of Sonic’s imprisonment.

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces. Sonic sits in his cell, restrained, as offscreen Zavok says, “This is the end, Sonic.”]

Sonic is restrained, looking around as sirens go off. This is when Zavok shows up to escort him to his execution:

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces, looking over Zavok’s shoulder into Sonic’s cell. The door is barred, and Sonic’s arms and legs are restrained with glowing blue restraints.]

Note the barred door and the size of the room. Also, if you look closely, you can see that he also has glowing restrains on his legs. Keep that in mind.

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces, showing a wide view of Sonic’s cell, which looks around the size of a boxcar. Sonic sits on a bench, his arms and legs restrained by glowing blue restraints.]

Again, note the size of the room and the restraints on his legs.

The Death Egg continues to shake, the power shorting out for a second, and Sonic’s restraints come off. (Brief note: in earlier drafts this was implied to be Zavok freeing him so he could walk to his execution; in cannon it seems more like a glitch caused by the Resistance’s efforts.)

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces the instant after Sonic’s restraints turned off. He is still in his restrained position, and he looks surprised.

(I don’t know why but the above frame is really funny to me. He looks so surprised.)

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces, focused on Sonic’s legs as he examines himself, kicking his newly-freed legs experimentally.]

This frame is awkward but important. After his restraints turn off, Sonic looks over himself, smiling as he kicks his legs experimentally.

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces. Sonic stands, walking towards Zavok and the open cell door as he says, “The end huh? Let’s see you try something now that I’m free.”]

The moment the restraints come off he’s ready to fight. I’m getting the sense that he didn’t get out of those very often.

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces. Sonic leaps out of the way of Zavok’s punch, grinning.]

Sonic he is trying to kill you why do you look like you’re having fun

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces, showing Sonic as he jumps away from his cell.]

Don’t mind me I’m still trying to figure out the size of his cell

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces. Zavok stands ready to fight, with a cell like Sonic’s in the background, filled with cheering prisoners.]

Apparently there were other people imprisoned nearby- all the way across the arena, but at least there was something.

[ID: Screenshot of the Japanese version of Sonic Forces. After defeating Zavok, Sonic says, “That was a blast! Bring a better toy with you next time.”]

(Japanese version)

Dude he literally just tried to kill you stop taunting him

After the boss fight, there are a few comments Sonic makes that are relevant:

[ID: Screenshot of the Japanese version of Sonic Forces. As Sonic escapes, he says, “Time to kiss this cramped up little space goodbye!”]

(Japanese version)

[ID: Screenshot of the Japanese version of Sonic Forces. As Sonic escapes, he says, “Getting to run around freely again really is the best!”]

(Japanese version)

And finally,

[ID: Screenshot of the Japanese version of Sonic Forces. Sonic talks to the Rookie, saying, “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me! Haven’t had anyone to talk to lately.]

(Japanese version)

So, to summarize: Sonic was kept on a space station, in a cell about the size of a boxcar (?), with a barred door and both his arms and legs restrained. His wonder when his restraints came off and his comments about getting to run freely imply that he didn’t get much exercise. He hasn't had any meaningful interaction in a while.

Eggman, Meet My Friend the Geneva Conventions

The moment you’ve all been waiting for- legalese!

Even though it isn’t Earth, Mobius probably has a version of the Geneva Conventions, which is basically a set of international laws regulating war and defining war crimes. And guess what, Eggman, now that you’ve started a war those laws apply to you! Let’s see how he shapes up.

We’re going to focus on the Geneva Convention relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War, which you can read here. I’ll summarize the important bits.

According to Article 4, “Inhabitants of a non-occupied territory, who on the approach of the enemy spontaneously take up arms to resist the invading forces, without having had time to form themselves into regular armed units, provided they carry arms openly and respect the laws and customs of war,” are considered prisoners of war if captured. Sonic falls under this umbrella, so he qualifies as a POW and falls under the protections of this convention.

Next, let’s look at these sections from Article 13 and Article 17.

Article 13 says, “Prisoners of war must at all times be humanely treated. Any unlawful act or omission by the Detaining Power causing death or seriously endangering the health of a prisoner of war in its custody is prohibited, and will be regarded as a serious breach of the present Convention… Likewise, prisoners of war must at all times be protected, particularly against acts of violence or intimidation and against insults and public curiosity. Measures of reprisal against prisoners of war are prohibited.”

Article 17 says, “No physical or mental torture, nor any other form of coercion, may be inflicted on prisoners of war to secure from them information of any kind whatever. Prisoners of war who refuse to answer may not be threatened, insulted, or exposed to any unpleasant or disadvantageous treatment of any kind.”

We could stop here. Ignoring the torture bit for now, Sonic was about to be executed- that flies in the face of Article 13! Also, based on how Zavok treated him, Sonic was clearly subject to intimidation and insults, if not acts of violence. These are clear war crimes.

We could go on and on about Eggman’s Geneva Convention violations (Articles 22, 25, 42, 47, 71- particularly Articles 21, 38, and 70), but it would get redundant. So let’s take a break and look at the definition of solitary confinement.

The Mandela Rules define solitary confinement like this:

“For the purpose of these rules, solitary confinement shall refer to the confinement of prisoners for 22 hours or more a day without meaningful human contact. Prolonged solitary confinement shall refer to solitary confinement for a time period in excess of 15 consecutive days.”

All sources agree that prolonged solitary confinement can cause long-term damage to the victim’s psychological health.

Solitary confinement facilities vary, from the size of the cell, the type of door, what educational or entertainment material is available, etc, and the effects tend to vary accordingly. People with preexisting mental health conditions tend to be affected the most, especially people with ADHD or ASPD; but even people with no preexisting conditions suffer long-term harm from solitary confinement.

Remember how Sonic was imprisoned:

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Forces, showing a wide view of Sonic’s cell, which looks around the size of a boxcar. Sonic sits on a bench, his arms and legs restrained by glowing blue restraints.]

In both the English and Japanese version, Sonic's captivity definitely fits the criteria for solitary confinement. He was kept in a cell alone, isolated from meaningful human contact, for six months. His comments imply that he wasn’t even let out to exercise- most people in solitary confinement get at least a little. His cell is much bigger than most solitary confinement cells, which is good; but he’s also restrained, possibly 24/7. (I haven’t been able to find any specific regulations or research on restraining a prisoner while they are in their cell, maybe since it’s self-evident that it’s inhumane. One could argue that Sonic’s speed meant that extreme measures were necessary, but that doesn’t make it any more humane.)

According to the Mandela Rules, both prolonged solitary confinement and indefinite solitary confinement amount to torture.

Now What?

Wow that got dark. I feel bad for Sonic, especially after reading exactly how solitary confinement fucks with people’s heads.

Unfortunately, Sonic has several risk factors that would worsen the damage of solitary confinement. First off, he’s fifteen- this stuff is worse for kids than for adults. Second, ADHD is specifically referenced in research as making solitary confinement much harder to handle.

(ASPD is another high risk factor. This is already too long without going into the specifics of “does Sonic have a personality disorder”; if you’re interested @/neurotypicalsonic has some cool posts about Sonic and BPD, if I remember correctly?)

Basically, for all the reasons we already knew Sonic would hate this, solitary confinement would suck for him.

How exactly it affected him is unclear- partially because he has main character syndrome and doesn’t act like anything’s wrong for the rest of Sonic Forces. Based on his risk factors and the research I’ve done, he probably experienced psychosis as well as PTSD, “cognitive impairment”/brain fog, and long-term struggles with social interaction.

Are the writers going to follow through with that? Well… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe.

[ID: Screenshot of Sonic Frontiers. Sonic is on Kronos Island, arms crossed with a slight frown.]

Sonic in Frontiers is a lot quieter than before. He’s pretty down-to-business compared to usual. (He tells Sage, “Sorry, kid, but I’ve got a job to do,” instead of a taunt or quip. He sounds resigned.) His voice is subdued, even at the beginning of the game before he was cybercorrupted. And he certainly doesn’t blink twice at a disembodied voice telling him what to do. (My personal favorite explanation is that he’s used to hearing directions from alters- pretty sure @/sonicaspeed123 originated that- but according to my limited knowledge, this fits past psychosis as well.)

I doubt that the writers are intentionally writing Sonic coping with the long-term affects of solitary confinement, but it is a very interesting possibility.

If you’ve gotten this far… I’m sorry for subjecting you to this. As a final point, Sonic in Frontiers is still, well, Sonic. He’s still arrogant, he still loves to run and explore, he still cares deeply for his friends. Trauma or torture or whatever, he’s still there, living. (And getting into stupidly dangerous situations like it’s just another Tuesday. Where are your self-preservation instincts you sweet reckless child-)

Remember to take care of yourselves. Here’s a photo of my cat to cheer you up.

[ID: My cat Vonnie, lounging on my laptop.]

[majormeilani]

just wrote 600+ more words for cc pt2

[youremyonlyhope]

Time to write an email full of my grievances and complaints addressed to a specific person but not actually send it and just save it as a draft.

Though this time, unlike last time, I may actually have to send it. If a specific thing happens that prompts me to feel the need to.

[ravcnism]

STRIKEOUT. ( PART 2 ) — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: An after-party. A conversation-turned-confrontation. Kenji finally meets the esteemed Toyo Bullet and struggles to define the difference between anger, terror, and infatuation.

# # TAGS: Even More Tension, Kenji Has a Good Relationship with His Team, Intense First Encounter, Domestic Sato Family Shenanigans

# # WARNINGS: Mature Language, Alcohol Consumption, Nothing Too Crazy, No Beta Again We Die Like Onda

Note: Okay, here we go: the actual second part. Again, I am so sorry for accidentally publishing my draft earlier — I am ill with embarrassment. But I’m very happy to know that people look forward to it! If you read the false-post, then you’ve only read half of the chapter. This one has over 3000 words more! Enjoy.

“It was a nail-biter of a game here at the New Tokyo stadium tonight, folks. Right off the bat, both teams were going neck and neck, toe-to-toe. And it seemed like neither one was willing to give an inch! Our home team managed to pull off a narrow victory in the end, and by narrow, I mean narrow, Kiba.”

“That is absolutely right, Sasaki. I truly have never seen anything like it in my entire career. And you know- you know I know a lot of baseball. You know I’ve been doing this for many years, but wow! Just- insane.”

“Truly a close call. Eight additional innings? To break the tie? I cannot believe it. Let me tell you, neither the Hiroshima Toyo Carp nor the Yomiuri Giants wanted to lose today.”

“If you look at the crowd, It looks like everyone’s been wanting to go home.”

Exhausted was an understatement. Kenji hadn’t felt this drained after a game since, well, only months ago: when he was still juggling the responsibilities of raising a baby Kaiju, carrying the weight of being Ultraman, and maintaining his reputation as a well-known baseball player. All of these, on top of the sleepless nights, no longer hindered him from his work. He usually left the stadium feeling brand new every single time — regardless of whether they won or lost. He had grown and learned to lean on people, to ask for help, accept defeat. Which was good and all that, but the point was: he was exhausted from this game. You had him panting for air like an overworked dog.

Shimura had Kenji on the field for longer than he should have been. While his younger, more egotistical self might have loved his moment in the spotlight, running base to base for six innings in a row was unsurprisingly really tiring. The teams had hit a clean tie by the ninth inning, and the tie-breaker lasted for eight more. You were eating their rookies alive and having their journeymen for dessert. When Shimura realized that Sato was the only one batting your pitches, he had him play for every round after the tie. The only times Kenji wasn’t on the field was when you weren’t either. Which wasn’t a lot. It scared him how you looked like you could throw that ball for days.

“Hiroshima’s L/n is just- an absolute unit, isn’t he?”

“He certainly is, Kiba. He certainly is. I mean his performance was near inhuman tonight. Each pitch was a gem and we- he really wanted us to know that he’s here, he’s ready, and he’s willing to change Japanese baseball. He was a major force out there on the field.”

“I cannot agree with you more. But credit where credit is due, we all know that the only reason the Giants are coming home with tonight’s win is because of none other than Ken Sato himself.”

“That’s right, Sato really put up a fight. L/n was throwing him off balance every time, but he always found his footing. I think tonight might have been the hardest I’ve seen him work. You know he- he usually makes his plays look effortless — disregarding last season’s slump.”

“I say he held his own very, very impressively. The team was right to rely on him. I know we’ve spoken a lot about their tension, but I’d say it’s their dynamic that really drove the point home. They were like- mirrors of each other out there. When you put two equal forces together, they deflect. You know what I’m saying?”

Kenji’s hand shook with a weakness he wasn’t familiar with. He stared at his calloused palm and noticed his fingers twitching. Shit. It really was some game. He might have been hitting the ball, but he was barely getting it through the field. Not only were your pitches fast, but there was weight to them, too. He was witnessing the caliber of your capabilities; understanding why you were the talk of every city.

The rest of the Giants came walking into the locker room, jeering and laughing amongst themselves. “That L/n is a real piece of work, ain't he?” Shirakumo, number 24, sat himself next to Kenji, unlacing his shoe. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Did you see the look on Tateoka’s face?” Yuki laughed, smacking his thigh. “Dude was scared shitless!”

“Hey!” Tateoka frowned in reply, tugging his jersey off his arms. “You try standing in front of that guy and telling me you don't feel a little threatened.” He shuddered, remembering the look in your eyes. Dark and pointed and menacing. “He was staring me down like he was gonna—”

“Eat you alive?” Kenji scoffed.

The team went silent, then erupted into a cluster of teasing ‘oooh’s. God. It reminded him of highschool.

“Oohh, yeah.” Yamada, number 21, slid over to him with a teasing tone. He wrapped an arm around Kenji’s shoulder and squeezed him closer. “I don't think I've ever seen Sato so shaken!”

He laughed, playfully pushing him away. He was also actually really sore on that shoulder. Hell, he could already feel the pain he’d need to go through just to get up tomorrow. He was going to need another ice bath. The rest of the boys jumped in on the jokes.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you Ken?” Tokuda opened his locker, grabbing a shirt from the top shelf. He whistled. “Like he wanted your head on a plate.”

Tanaka chuckled. “He wanted you dead, man!”

Kenji rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Let's not get carried away. I never said I was shaken.”

“But that last bat was sweet as hell.” Yuki nodded. “I doubt any of us would've gotten through the guy if it weren't for Sato.”

“Well, duh.” Shirakumo shrugged. None of the Giants denied it. Ken was their star player. And tonight proved it more than ever. “We owe you for drinks, bud. Give us a date and we'll treat ya’ to someplace you like.” He slapped Ken’s back affectionately, which elicited a pained groan. “Shit, sorry.”

Kenji’s watch started beeping. He flinched at the sound, eyes widening slightly. “Uh, see you in a sec, guys. I gotta take this.”

He was there a moment, then gone the next. Kenji rushed himself out the hallways and into an empty locker room to answer Mina’s call. “Hey!” he greeted, anxiously. A screen projected itself from his watch and lit up his face. “Hey. Hi. What's wrong? Everyone alright? I know I said I'd be home soon, but the game took way longer than–”

He was interrupted by cheering. His father clapped and whooped with excitement as Emi occupied the background, screeching with glee. Kenji could see the ground shaking as she was jumping around and doing her special dance. One of Mina’s arms was protruding from the wall and waving celebratory flags. It immediately put a smile on his face, easing the tension from his shoulders. He was always happy to see everyone alright, and even happier to see them as their silly selves.

“Kenji!” cheered Hayao. “That was an incredible game! You were unstoppable!” The professor chuckled. Emi picked him up into a hug, slightly toppling the camera over. His legs swung like a ragdoll’s. “Okay, okay girl-”

Ken laughed, slightly shaking his head. “Easy, Emi. Put Grandpa down.”

“It was a very impressive game, Ken. Perhaps one of your bests.” Mina’s calculative yet affectionate voice echoed from his watch.

Hayao fell to the floor with an ‘oof’. “You didn't tell me you were playing against THEE Mets’ Bullet!” He scrambled to stand up, barely leaning on his cane. “I wasn’t even aware that he was signed into the Carp!”

Kenji’s smile immediately faded. “Okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He was alright, I guess. And we don’t actually know if he signed into it or if he was traded. We barely heard anything about him from the press.”

“Alright?” Professor Sato gasped, appalled. “Kenji, he was spectacular! He’s a lot like you, you know. I’ve always suspected that the both of you equalled in skill, but to see it in action? Phew.” He wiped some pretend sweat off of his forehead. “What a show! Eight extra innings to break a tie? Unbelievable! I highly doubt that he was traded. Who in their right mind would purposely lose a player like that?”

Kenji scoffed. “He wasn’t that good.” His sore limbs would like to say otherwise.

“He had you chasing after his pitches like a dog!”

“I don’t like that analogy.”

“I ought’ to rewatch that documentary they made about him. You know they’ve done studies on the physics of his throws.”

“Dad.”

“And how fortunate for Hiroshima to have gotten him out of all teams! I can tell that this season is going to turn around really fast. Just today he’s already scored-”

“Dad!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Hayao chuckled. “I’m just very excited to see the both of you on the same field.” Kenji sighed, nodding his head. “Anyway, congratulations on the win, my boy. I’m so proud of you. I always am. Get home safe. It may be late, but we still have a lot of leftovers from dinner!” Emi made a noise that let him know she was waiting, too.

Going home sounded like heaven. Ken wanted nothing more but to rest. Maybe kick back and have a chocolate shake while he and his family watched cartoons to fall asleep. It was the perfect way to end his night. It had been an unexpectedly long day and he looked forward to tomorrow’s well-earned break. Eight extra innings might even win him a second day of rest. Or a third, if Shimura agreed not to schedule him for the next game. Which, he doubted, if it meant you’d be playing.

“I’m on my way.” He ended the call, and opted to take the fastest way out, desperate to avoid the press.

Ken collapsed onto the floor, snuggling into Emi’s arm. Having washed up and eaten his dinner, he felt the last remains of his adrenaline-fueled strength die out like a dwindling flame. He felt as if his limbs were about to fall off. “Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Emi didn’t much care. She seemed to be preoccupied by the new ( gigantic ) stacking blocks that Mina made for her. Ken sighed, sinking deeper into her arm. “She always smells so good after her baths.” The baby Kaiju’s warm and heavy grasp felt like a weighted blanket. It was a comfort that Ken would find nowhere else.

Professor Sato walked past them, chuckling into his coffee mug. “That, she does. You should have seen her earlier, you know. I’ve never seen her so invested in a game.”

Kenji hummed. “Is that right?” He rolled onto his stomach, facing Emi. “Hey. Baby.” He poked her cheek. “Is that true? Did you cheer for Daddy? I bet you did.” Giving into his cuteness aggression he rubbed at her cheeks. Emi expressed her annoyance through a small squeak. “God, that mean old Bullet had Daddy running laps, didn’t he? We hate him, don’t we?” Kenji pushed her cheeks up and down, leading her into a nod. “Yes we dooo.”

Professor Sato laughed. “Whatever happened to sportsmanship?”

“Whatever happened to loyalty?” He pouted. “My own father, rooting against me. I would never root against you, Emi.” Wanting to return to her blocks, Emi lifted Kenji up by his torso and placed him on her head. The batter laughed, laying on her with no protest.

“What!” The professor exclaimed. “I never said I was rooting against you. I was just— feeling enthusiastic, that’s all. For both teams.”

Mina entered the room, her mechanisms humming faintly. “Good evening, everyone.” The Sato’s greeted her accordingly. “I have a message for Ken.”

The mentioned Ken slumped into his daughter, rolling his eyes. “Here we go. I bet it’s the press.” He scoffed. “Let me guess, at least 30 emails asking for my statement. Or, better yet, it’s Shimura warning me not to miss the next game.” He raised his fist, mocking a reporter’s tone: “We’ve witnessed baseball history tonight, folks! Blah, blah, blah.”

“Actually, it’s an invitation for something else.” Mina hovered closer. “An event.”

This caught his attention. Kenji tilted his head. “For what?”

“A party, hosted by various sponsors.”

“Bit too early for an afterparty, don’t you think?” Ken sighed, resting his head on folded arms. “We’ve only won one game.”

“I suppose it’s to celebrate Mr. L/n as well.” Mina would shrug if she had the shoulders to do so. “His coming to Japan is quite a big deal.”

“Great.” Kenji was half-asleep by then, eyes already closed. “All the more reason for me not to go.” The professor had settled himself onto one of the desks, getting into some light reading. Emi had grown tired herself, and decided that she was not interested in the blocks anymore. Waddling to her spot, (with Kenji still on her head), she yawned, and opted for some much-needed sleep.

Mina’s light blinked. “I think you should go, Ken.”

The rightfielder cracked one eye open. “And why would I do that?”

“I think it would benefit you to interact with Mr. L/n more.”

“Mina, that’s literally the last thing I want.”

“Is it?”

Ken frowned. “What do you mean, ‘is it’? Of course it is.”

“Your vitals seemed to say otherwise earlier.”

Kenji scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was keeping careful watch of your vitals, as I always do. I have your daily status tracked and recorded.”

Kenji couldn't get rid of Mina’s voice in his head. Even amidst the warm crowd, with chatter swaying smoothly atop of light r&b music, he felt as if he could still hear her words ringing in the back of his mind. It remained vivid, though she had told it to him days ago. It was as clear as day. Like a broken record.

“Believe it or not, the heart beats differently for every emotion. There is a difference between fear, anxiety, excitement, and—”

Kenji stared at you from across the room, watching as you conversed with your team, nursing a glass of cold, hard whiskey. He watched as you bowed your head and smiled, listening for the faint, muffled sound of your laughter. He wondered what you were talking about; what joke might have made you grin that hard. He wondered why you seemed to illuminate a room, and why everyone seemed so drawn. His eyes were caught in the way the colorful lights sank into your hair.

“—Infatuation.”

You looked up, and your eyes met his. Kenji flinched. He felt his heart skip a beat. Shit, he thought. Mina was definitely going to catch that. She had probably already marked it down to tease him for it later. You held his gaze for longer than he could have standed and greeted him with that same annoying wink. The same one you gave him on the field. Confident, snarky, playful. You lifted your glass and took a sip, eyes still trained on his.

“What you may perceive as frustration for him might just be the opposite.”

Kenji's jaw clenched. Mina had no idea what she was talking about.

And he would prove her wrong tonight.

Like a soldier marching into battle, he waded through the party to make his way towards you. Was he intimidated? Yes. Unfortunately, he was. But he knew his way around a crowd, and his weapon-of-a-tongue knew all the right talk to make a conversation work. He was sociable like that. He was a poet, a wordsmith. If you weren't careful, one little exchange could have you wrapped around his finger. Some people called it his charisma, some blamed it on his irresistible good looks. Either way, Ken took it. He wasn't going to deny the fact that people loved talking to him — though he, admittedly, didn't really like talking to them in return. But he could do it. He could make it work.

Besides, how bad could you be?

With a newfound confidence, Ken dared to get closer. The distance between you and him lessened, and– oh, fuck, was that your cologne? He blinked. You smelled so good. Why did you smell so good? “Hey. Hi.” Shit. Abort mission. No, it's too late. Too awkward to back out. You were already looking at him. “L/n, yeah?” He spoke your name like he only just remembered you upon seeing you. When in truth, he hadn't stopped thinking about you since that damn first pitch. “Some game, huh?” Ken held his hand out for you to shake. ‘Fuck, I hope he doesn't notice how clammy it is.’

“Ken Sato.” It was the first time he heard your voice, as well as the first time he heard you say his name. He didn't like how his body reacted. There was a small shiver down his spine, a tingling flutter in his chest. You took his hand. Yours was cold. So cold. Kenji concluded that the icy glass of whiskey you had placed on the counter was to blame. He could feel your callouses against his. Your hands mirrored one another, marked with the battlescars of your sport. He was oddly sensitive to every detail. Touching you was.. a sensation.

You gave him a firm shake before promptly letting go.

“That's me,” he said, miraculously. Ken was oscillating between panic and confidence at a speed that likely wasn't normal. He was holding his own, though. Like the real champ he was. It was surreal to be standing in front of you without a ball to keep you apart. No bat, no competition. Just you, and a few shots of alcohol. “You adjusting into Japan alright?”

“As well as I can.” You shrugged. You had a tone to you; an elegant air of grace and self-assurance. You had no need to raise your voice because you knew he'd do his best to listen. It was pissing him off. “It's definitely different from the States.”

“I gotta say, I'm pretty surprised to see you here.” Ken usually knew what to say when it came to conversations. He never blanked out at interviews, nor left dead air hanging at conferences. But speaking with you made him feel like his vocabulary was on a limit. “After a game like that?” He whistled. “A lesser man would've taken a week off.”

“But we're not lesser men, are we, Ken?” A waitress passed by. Without the need to look, you had grabbed two shots of vodka from her tray. You handed the other one to him. “That's why you're here, too.”

He stared at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Exactly.” He took the shot from your hand and bumped the rim against yours. “Cheers.”

You grinned. “Cheers.”

Kenji tilted his head back, downing his drink, tasting the fire run down his throat. His face screwed up a little, but not enough for you to notice. You did the same, sighing the heat out of your nose. You allowed a small laugh to slip past your lips. “Japan’s liquor is surprisingly stronger.”

Kenji chuckled. “Yeah. If you know where to look.” The music felt like it was growing louder. He leaned in to speak to you better. “You know, I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting.”

You nodded. “Neither can I.”

“The Mets and Dodgers have always been at each other's throats, and yet—”

“Our schedules just never lined up.” You scoffed. “What are the odds of that, huh?”

It really was such a coincidence. If Ken had known that your interactions would've fired the press up as much as it did now, he would've fought to face you sooner. “When was it?” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Playoffs. 2019, I think. The Mets were set to face the Dodgers.”

“2019,” you repeated, brows raised. “I was there.” Kenji took notice of the way your head slightly shifted to the side. Like you were trying to get a better look at him. He swallowed thickly. “I was there.” You shrugged. “You weren't.”

“I was overseas.” He was wanting another drink. But, speaking to you was surprisingly not horrible. “Didn't get back until 3 months in. And when I did—”

“I wasn't there,” you chuckled. “Alright. I remember. 2019, I was gone for half the season. Injury.”

“The world was in shambles.” Ken grinned at you. A second waiter passed by. He grabbed you another glass of whiskey. He took scotch for himself. “See what I mean? It's like– divine intervention.”

“Big word.” To say that fate had a hand to play in yours and his meeting was beyond your beliefs. You didn't place your trust in things like that. But to know that he had thought about it was charming.

“Hey.” Ken shrugged. “Ya’ never know.”

The music shifted, and so did the lights. There was a moment of quiet between the both of you, and in that time, you found a common interest in people-watching. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor the absence of something to talk about. The two of you merely agreed upon the minutes it took to watch the party unfold. A good number of the guests were already drunk. The dance floor was alight and occupied mostly by women. Ken rested his weight on one foot, sighing at his still-aching muscles. He wondered if you were any sore too.

“They love it, don't they?” You leaned your back against the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Ken took quick notice of the necklace worn loosely around your neck. A silver dogtag, similar to his. “The drama. The intensity. Even the things that go on beyond the field.”

Ken shrugged. “It's baseball. Who doesn't?”

“Exactly.” You smiled. “Which is why it's important to always let the home team win the first game.”

It took a moment for Kenji to process what you said. He was distracted by the colorful lights, his favorite song coming on, and a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. “Mhm.” He reached over to take one, before— “Wait.” His brows knitted together. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Hm?” You had your lips pressed together into a thin line. Your expression feigned innocence, a stark contrast to your bold statement. “I said it's important to let the home team win the first game.”

Kenji made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. He couldn't believe his ears. Had he been standing by the speakers for too long? “No, I heard what you said. What I'm asking is what you're saying.” It was a dare of a reply, with a tone that commanded: go on. Clarify.

Your smile refused to leave your face. Nearing the batter, ever so carefully, you whispered:

“I'm saying you won because I let you.”

Kenji blinked.

And there it was. He knew you were too good to be true. Goddammit, he knew it! Beneath your seemingly-perfect self was something cold and rotten and he called it. He fucking called it. How thrilled he was to be correct, and oh, how utterly terrified.

But this was good. This was absolutely good. He needed something to hold onto, something to keep himself afloat. The next time he found himself drowning in your eyes again, he'd only need to remember that you were a grade A asshole. That you had the audacity to claim that you were in full control of the game. Surely it would solve all his problems.

Kenji broke out into a laugh. It started out as a small cluster of sarcastic chuckles, but erupted into actual laughter. You were funny. So, so funny. Unbeknownst him, you were watching with amusement. “Because you let me!” Kenji repeated, smiling, but, exasperated. Two can play at that game. “Right. Of course. Totally not because you're an average pitcher and I can bat anything you throw.”

“If that helps you sleep at night.” You shrugged. Your attention wasn't on him anymore. You were watching the crowd, disinterested.

Kenji felt his eye twitch. “That's big talk coming from someone who got struck out by a rookie.” He was referring to the eighth inning, when Tateoka managed to bat your pitch into a homerun.

“That's right, Sato.” You laughed, low and sultry. “Batted by a rookie. How could I have struck you out at the last inning but be batted by a rookie?” You tilted your head at him, brows knitted together. You spoke in a sickeningly soft tone. Like you were helping a toddler understand something simple. “Doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, does it?”

Kenji was growing flustered. His face was warm and his fist was itching to meet your cheek. Nobody spoke to him this way. Sure guys had been mean to him before, but it was mostly because they were threatened by him. They'd tried to put him down and pick apart his flaws, but what you were doing was something different. You weren't claiming that he was weak, you were claiming that you were stronger. You didn't deny the amount of talent that Ken had in his body, but you were fully convinced that you had more. You were bigger, smarter, and better. And you had him under your control.

“Oh, c’mon. Seriously?” God, your voice. It infuriated him. It drove him insane. You leaned in, closer, whispering your words, as if hearing you through the party wasn't hard enough. He could smell the whiskey on your breath. It mingled with your cologne. It was intoxicating. “Are you blushing?”

He scoffed in disbelief. “No.” Except he totally was. He could feel the heat radiating off of his face. His breathing had gone shallow, his heartbeat rapid. “Why would I– Tch. You— You don't know what you're talking about.” Holy shit. He was a mess.

He wanted so desperately to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew damn well he wasn't drunk enough to be acting the way he was. He was stumbling over his words stone-cold sober.

You were smiling. He was dying, and you were smiling. “You amuse me, Sato.”

Ken took a cautious step back, knowing that being that close to you for too long was only going to make him worse. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He had to retaliate somehow. Like a soldier fumbling for his sword, he had to get up and do something. “You don't think I don't know what this is? Where you're heading?”

You tilted your head. “Do enlighten me.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Sure. Celebrity-Athlete from America waltzes into Japan thinking he's the shit— that he can rule the world. He's a shiny new toy and everyone's just dying to catch a look. Nevermind that his old team traded him off, nevermind that he goes home to an empty penthouse. He's got the stats to prove his skills and he thinks he doesn't need anything else.” Ken dared to retake a step forward. He sort of regretted it when you didn't take a step back. “Well, guess what,” he continued. “I've been where you are. I know how you feel, what you're thinking.

Everything you're trying to be is a shadow of what I already was.”

There was a beat of silence. You weren't smiling anymore. You were staring at him, stone-faced, seemingly indifferent.

Kenji narrowed his eyes. “So don't go talking to me like you're any better.”

He didn't know what to expect. You were quiet for such a long time that he thought you were going to snap. He partially expected a punch to the chin. But you were calm. There wasn't a trace of irritation on your face. Instead, you set your glass of whiskey — now empty — on the counter behind you. With a sigh, you shoved a hand in your pocket. “Are you done?”

Kenji blinked.

“Let me tell you something, Sato.” You raised a brow at him. Ken felt his heartbeat pick up again. Your once-approachable gaze shifted into something cold and commanding. He swallowed thickly. “There is a difference between you and me. And that difference is the fact that I don't settle.”

Kenji was glaring at you, brows fixed together.

A teammate called you from the other side of the room. You nodded at him, once, then returned your focus to the Yomiuri Prince. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tauntingly, smiling at him as if you'd known him your whole life. “I hope last season’s slump accustomed you to the feeling of losing those points.”

Kenji wanted to say something, but his lips refused to move. Somehow, the blaring music in the background had faded into a muffled blur. All he could hear was your voice. Like a moth to a flame.

You winked at him. Again. And like before, his body reacted in ways he didn't like. You squeezed his shoulder once, before leaving to go to your friend. With your back turned against him, Kenji released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He clutched his chest, watching wide-eyed as you moved through the crowd. He could still smell your cologne. The last thing he heard from you was,

“I'll see you on the field.”

taglist: @fairy-lenaa @moonjellyfishie @witchygod — Thank you for your patience!

[captainfantasticalright]

Another Sir Terry Pratchett interview on the details of writing Good Omens with Neil Gaiman. (More about this process x).

Question about how he goes about collaborating with someone else .

Terry: “You make them do what you want”.

Gary Cornell came up with something very apposite talking about working together, he says : It’s not that (each) of you does 50% of the work, each of you does 90% of the work.

Um. The way we did it then, and I can’t really speak as an expert because it's the only time I’ve ever done it and other people do it in different ways, it wasn’t a case of, the way the Americans tend to do it, um, is one person writes a draft and the other person goes in and noodles with that draft. We did the whole thing from the ground up; each was doing bits. The ad hoc way we had of working, it’s simple: I’ve got a track record writing novels, Neil hadn’t. So I became like the editor, the taskmaster. Because the other thing is the practical problem about two people 120 miles apart doing something, is that, um, it would be different now, but in those days we had no reliable means of electronic communication. We could connect computers together with modems and then spend the whole evening at cross purpose and ringing each other up and saying “I’m getting lots of little faces and shit like that all over..”

Three quarters of an hour and about eight phone calls, you actually managed to transmit about 2000 words you could have actually phoned and sneezed in a morse code.

[w]hen we were doing the first draft of the film script, we were both members of CompuServe so crappy our BT rural lines that the quick efficient way was for me to go into CompuServe and leave the work I’d done in Neil’s mailbox on the computer in Ohio or someplace and later that evening he would dial CompuServe in America and download it from Ohio or wherever it was.

So in order to get the script 120 miles, electronically it was doing about 10000. This is from the global village.

What we would do is I would hold the master copy and sometimes work would have to stop for 24 hours because stuff was in the post, because the nightmare, the absolute nightmare which I knew would happen if we let it, was that somehow we’d end up with two master copies in existence with little, minute changes, and we’d never be able to spot which was which.

So the last thing we wanted was two master copies, and we worked on the phone who did what. I did a bit more than Neil, of that anyway. But, it also felt to me to be an awful lot of the glue that no one wanted to do because it was easy to do set piece scenes and written on a kind of, on the kind of plot somewhere you get A and B to F and X and Y across to C T. And that really is like 3000 words where you have to move people around and then,you know, shove extra bits in; so I ended up probably doing near 75% of the book.

I would probably say because it’s, because had we’ve done it any other way it would’ve been like three months longer to do.

Also part of the process from another interview with Terry Pratchett:

Q: Let's talk a bit about the book you collaborated with Neil Gaiman on: Good Omens. That was before email, so how did it work on a practical basis? What was the most challenging aspect of writing with someone else?

I'm sure what I have to say will echo what Neil has said. When two people work on a book, it isn't a case where each one does 50% of the work. Each one does 100% of the work. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are mine. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are Neil's. There are some bits which were Neil's idea which I wrote, and there are some bits which were my idea which Neil wrote. Some bits we no longer know exactly whose ideas they were, or who wrote them. By the time we'd gone through all the drafts, it had been written by some sort of composite entity. We wrote it in the 14th century. We each had one phone line and a 1200 baud modem. We'd work it out: "OK, you send, I'll receive." Sometimes it would take 20 minutes to half an hour before we could send the stuff. It would have been cheaper and easier to have rung each other up and sneezed out the text in Morse Code. I was the Keeper of the Disks. I insisted that there should only be one official version in existence at any time. The moment it split into two, we would be in dead trouble. But Neil would sometimes send me a disk with 2000 words, saying " This is the scene with so and so -- insert it here." It more or less worked. It took us about six weeks to do the first draft. I think it worked because, at the time, we were each making a name for ourselves in our respective fields. It's not that we didn't take it seriously. But we were relaxed. We thought we would earn some holiday money by doing it. The nice thing about collaborating is that there is one other person in the world who is thinking about the exact same thing that you are thinking about. We both have a similar reading background, I suppose. It was quite rare when one of us came up with something that the other guy didn't know about. So we could bounce ideas off one another quite easily.

[novlr]

How do I know how long my chapters need to be?

While there are definitely average chapter lengths out there (most books fall within the 1500-8000 word range, with the majority of those falling between 3000-4000 words), chapter length is really incredibly subjective.

Honestly, the best advice I can give for when a chapter is long enough is "when it feels done." If it feels like it's missing something, keep writing. If it feels finished, stop.

There are, of course stylistic ways you can use chapters which might affect the length, like time jumps, flashbacks, switching PoVs, etc, but the same rule as above still applies.

The one thing I will say is that it's important to use beta readers to help you find out if chapters are too long or too short. If there are bits where they feel bored and overwhelmed, your chapter might be too long. If they feel like the pacing is rushed, it might be too short. But all of these are things you can fix in editing after you've written the first draft in full.

Really, when it comes to chapters, go with your gut. But if you'd like a more in-depth look at chapter length, why chapters are used, and how that might affect the chapter length you decide on, check out the post below!

[steamberrystudio]

28/07/2024 Devlog

Hallo everyone!  Time for the tumblr update! I have big news! So read on!

Summary:

Finished drafting Yren's ending

Revised Kav, Noel, Raif, and Yren

Formatted/Scripted Kav, Noel, Raif, and Yren's endings

Worked on the play test for Yren

One new BG

Lots of UI stuff

Big Fiddly To Do List

Writing:

I am done with the writing. (Well. As done as one ever really is. I was telling another writer friend of mine just yesterday that we're never really done until the moment we have to ship the project to someone).

BUT. I am done with the rough draft. I am done with the major revision. So from this point onwards, the changes will be more minor as I play test and others play test (eventually. I'm the only one testing right now).

So going forward you probably won't be getting any writing updates because there won't be enough to report. Cause...it's done.

Uncoded word count is 657,000 words.

Coded word count is 616,000 words (this is how much actually ended up in Ren'py).

Huzzah. My 350,000 word story is done. He he. He. LoL

It took so much longer than I thought it would even though I was writing every day - sometimes 3000 words a day!

Timing was just so hard for this project. It was much more difficult to predict a total word count for this game. Because of the structure of this game, word count variations are going to be much more noticeable and I had to focus and work a little harder to keep everyone in much tighter alignment. So when one route (like Asher), increased by 5000 words, I knew immediately I would have to increase all the others by roughly the same amount.. That meant the overall word count goal instantly increased by 25000 words.

Additionally, any time I made a small change in something - whether it was lore or a minor wording or vocabulary change (for instance, changing one thing from "system void" to "gate void" then to "nexus void") - each time, I had to go change that thing in all the other routes.

There was a lot of continuity babysitting.

This was somewhat true for GS but not to the same degree. Not everything mentioned in one route in that game was even mentioned in the other routes. So I might need to only change one other route's references to that thing but not all nine routes. Or maybe no other route would need changes. In WSC, it was all 6 routes every single time.

So even if I was focusing on one particular route, I could never really work on that route in a vacuum. I was constantly having to go check on and edit the other routes for things too.

This not only made it harder and more time consuming to write in general, but also just made it impossible to predict things like how much time it would take.

But that is squared away. Life is good.

Art:

Just some BG stuff. I've been so focused on writing that not much of that focus has been spread around to art so there's not much to report here.

Other Stuff:

UI.

As you know I've been making some visual changes to the UI. Mostly minor stuff involving slight changes to the general aesthetic of the UI. Those fixes are largely complete.

And now the focus has shifted to adding more of the features and functionalities that have been planned but on-hold for the last year.

The new save screen is coded. This save screen, as you can see, divides the characters up by name and lets you add additional save slots when you've filled up all the empty ones. 

For a game like WSC, where people may have multiple playthroughs for different characters going at the same time, I thought it would be useful to have this paged organisation. I always find that even if I try to keep my playthroughs separate and organised, they invariably get messy. This is true in other games, this is true for my personal play tests...

I'm really hoping this structure helps with that.

Another feature I'm adding to WSC is a recap screen.

I know that with episodic games, one of the struggles people have is that they forget some of the story details during the gap between episodes. So people feel like they constantly have to replay and refresh their memory. This is, of course, an attempt to help players maybe not have to do that.

The idea is that I will update this with every episode so that people who want a recap can just click in and refresh their memory.

There are some other features that have been added in. Some other QOL of life things. And there are more features to come. I won't go into everything here.

But those things are slowly coming together as well.

There are a lot of things that have to be done before the first episode can release. Some are major things like completing the CGs or coding the sprite expressions. Some are more minor like adding the in-game achievements. 

And there are also a ton of smaller, more fiddly things. Like double-checking the styling of certain words (my editing programs could never decide if they preferred home world or homeworld and so both get used.)

I want to fix those kinds of things so testers don't have to worry about pointing them out.

I have a massive to-do list filled with all of those big and small things. And now I'm working through it.

I have also been doing a play test of Yren's route. I have to personally do each route one time just to see if there are any significant issues that need to be fixed before anyone else sees the game. So I've been doing that as well.

Upcoming Weeks:

Finishing my own play test of the game. This goes fairly slow because I play test with the self voicing enabled. And that means that I'm playing through it at a much slower pace. I also stop frequently to fix typos, change repetitive wording. Or may slightly more substantial fixes.

I've been testing for like...2 hours a night because I've been focused on writing during the day. But I'm going to be increasing the time I spend play testing so that hopefully I can get through the rest of it a little faster.

Additionally, all the UI and "Fiddly List" stuff will continue to be worked on as well.

So that's where we are.

We have moved past writing and into the next phase of development. I'm really excited to be finally focusing on other stuff.

That is all for now. I will see you next time.

[tkwrites]

First Fight - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Title: First Fight

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Original female character 

Warnings: Angst, history of a bad relationship 

Summary: Quinn and Sarah have their first fight - we learn more about Quinn’s previous relationship

Word count: 3000

Comments: Angst isn’t something I feel I write very well, so if you have any ideas of how to make this better, I would welcome any and all constructive feedback. 

First Fight

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Hey, I met someone. I want you to meet her when you’re in town. 

Sending this text was like setting off a bomb in his life. Not because Quinn thought it would destroy things, but it would open up this fated little world to outside forces, something he’d protected against so far.  

He wanted Brady and Emma’s opinion first before he started introducing the idea of Sarah into the rest of his relationships. They had been the only ones brave enough to tell him they didn’t like June. Everyone else in his life told him they felt the same only after he’d called it off completely. His own family hadn’t even told him. 

Everything with Sarah felt different than it had with June. He didn’t expect the same outcome, but he wanted to be sure. June taught him he couldn’t always trust his own judgment. 

Things with June were always complicated. In so many ways, their relationship had been easy. She entertained herself for the most part, looked good on his arm, and the sex wasn’t bad, but it never went beyond that. Quinn used to think their relationship could lead to marriage, but she never gave them that chance. 

Looking back, he wasn’t sure if she ever actually liked him. She liked the lifestyle he offered, and liked being seen with him at events and after games. She would often flirt with other people, even after they decided to be exclusive and was happy to tell him how there were taller, more handsome, better dressed men she could get with when they fought. A few days later, she would always come back apologizing, telling him she loved him and that she wanted to be with him. 

At one point, Brady had told him he didn’t want to hear about their relationship drama anymore. “You don’t even like her, Q,” he’d said, exasperated, “like, not just her body, but her.” 

Eventually, Quinn had been forced to admit he was right. 

They’d been on and off for more than a year, and it never went anywhere other than around in circles. They had the same fights about how long he was gone, how she wanted him to dress better, and that she was flirting with other guys all the time. It was exhausting, and not in a way that made it worthwhile.

You met someone? Brady responded. Who? When? 

Her name is Sarah. We met two months ago. We've been dating since then. 

It wasn't totally unlike Quinn to keep something so private, but the fact that it had been two months and he'd kept it all to himself made Brady wonder. 

Do you think Emma could come out? 

If he was asking for Emma's opinion, this was serious. Quinn trusted her judgment. 

I'll ask her. 

As soon as Emma’s flight was confirmed, Quinn brought it up while Sarah was at his house. 

When he'd asked her to come over earlier in the day, she had initially turned him down, explaining that she had a deadline to meet. 

“I just want to see you,” he said. “You could do your homework here.”

“I don't know if that would work…” 

She wanted to see him, too, especially knowing he was headed out of town again too soon for her liking, but finals and year end deadlines were coming up swiftly. She didn’t have the time, especially now that she was spending so much time with Quinn, to put things off. 

“Could we just give it a try? I'll leave you alone until you're finished, I swear. And then we can spend some time together.”

She'd agreed, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he kept every word of his promise. 

By the time her first draft of the research publication she was writing was done, Sarah had been at Quinn's table for more than two hours. True to his word, he left her alone other than to bring her a plate of cut vegetables and kiss her forehead around the one hour mark.  

Now, she wandered through the penthouse, looking for him. 

“Quinn?” she finally asked when she didn’t find him downstairs. 

“I'm up here.”

She climbed the stairs and found him in the gaming room. It was where he had all of his video game equipment set up, along with squishy arm chairs, couches and bean bags. He had enough controllers, he could probably host the entire team. 

Glancing away from the screen, he asked, “you're done already?”

She shrugged, “I write fast.”

She did. He was impressed. “I’m almost done with this level, and I'll be done.”

“No rush.” 

She wandered down the hall to one of the guest bathrooms. When she got back, he'd tossed his headset and controller away from him and was standing. 

The hug he wrapped her in was warm and comforting. She snuck her hands under his shirt just so she could feel his warm skin.

They kissed for a long time, standing in that gaming room. 

As they walked down the stairs hand in hand, he broached the subject, “my best friend, Brady is going to be in town on a road trip from Ottawa Thursday. I hoped we could all go to dinner together.”

“Oh.” 

“What?” 

“I have a cohort review on Thursday night.”

“So? Can't you just move it?”

“No, I can't. It took us a week just to find a time that worked for everyone, and I already told them I would be there.”

Quinn pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, thinking. “Just - he's only in town Thursday and Friday, and they leave Friday night. His wife Emma is coming in.” 

“I'm sorry, Quinn, I wish you had given me more advanced notice.” 

“Can’t you meet with your cohort after class or something?” he asked, “you all live here.” 

Sarah bristled, feeling more and more disrespected as this conversation went on. “Quinn,” her tone was a bit sharper than she intended and she tried to bite it back, “it’s not my fault you didn’t tell me about this until two days beforehand. I can’t just move my schedule around because you forgot.” 

“I didn’t forget,” he said indignantly. 

“Then why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“We just made the plan!”

“You can’t just make plans without consulting me! I have a life and responsibilities outside of you.” 

He blew a breath through his nose, “I know that.”

“Do you? Because it seems like you're expecting me to just drop everything for your schedule.” 

He groaned. “That’s not what I mean. Brady and Emma will only be in town for a day and a half. They live on the other side of the country, and I want them to meet you, and you to meet them, and you’re saying you can’t because of some school thing with people who live here and could reschedule.” 

Sarah pursed her lips. “So it’s up to me to reschedule.” 

“They’re going back home on Friday after the game!” 

“Could we not have lunch on Friday or get together before the game?” 

Quinn paused. It wasn’t ideal, but he supposed it could work. “I mean, I guess so.” 

She nodded. “So when I said I have plans, your first call is to ask me to cancel them, rather than seeing if there’s something that will work for everyone.”

“Jesus, Sarah. I just want you to meet my friends, and dinner would give us more time.” 

“I get that, I really do, but this review is really important, and I’d just…” traitorous tears rose to her eyes. They always did when she was frustrated. “I’d just like you to respect that I have important stuff going on that I can’t cancel.” 

Shit. Now she was crying. Over something he did. Fuck. 

They were real tears, too - frustrated ones she was trying to sniffle back - not like the over dramatic tears June would dredge up in a fight. 

“I know you’re used to being single, but you need to respect my time, too. You’re not the only one working around a demanding schedule.”

The truth of it socked him in the stomach. June worked as an influencer. Other than modeling gigs, which weren't that often, she could change her schedule at the drop of a hat, and often did. She liked the spontaneity of it. He had rarely planned ahead with her.

His shoulders sagged, “I’m sorry.” 

“Thank you. It’s just, I already move so much stuff around because of your hockey schedule.”

That made him stop short. “You do?” 

“Yes! I have to move my work and my research so we can spend time together while you’re in town. Last week, I canceled this same review group so I could come over here before you went off to the midwest, and I can’t cancel it again.” 

“I didn't know that. I can't know stuff you don't tell me, Sarah.”

“It’s not really even about the review, it’s about -” he scoffed and she stopped talking, pursing her lips together.

Quinn crossed his arms over his chest. How could he have known she changed this meeting before? How could she possibly be mad at him for something he didn’t know?

They stood that way, at the bottom of his fancy, metal and glass stairs, each staring at the other for a long while. The longer they were there, the longer Quinn stayed silent, the more frustrated Sarah became. Didn’t he understand she was upset about the lack of respect in this conversation?

“Maybe I should go,” she said. Not because she didn’t want to talk things over, or figure them out, but because she knew herself well enough to know that with his silence and her frustration dipping into anger, she would say something she didn’t really mean if she didn't step away. 

Great. This is just great, Quinn thought. If she wanted to leave, fine. He wouldn’t stop her. 

It was only after she’d left with a sad, emotionless smile, and he’d torn the cap off of a beer from the fridge that the reality of what happened came crashing in on him. 

He let her walk away. Over a dinner - over wanting to be right about a dinner. He was such a fucking idiot. 

In the midst of his realization, his mind grasped hold of something his Grandpa had told him when he had asked for relationship advice the summer before. “Quinn,” he’d said, “I like to ask myself, is this my pride fighting? And is it worth whatever the outcome will be?”

With June, that line was always a little blurred. Right now, though, he could see he’d clearly crossed it. And being right wasn’t worth the outcome this had caused. She’d been gone for 15 minutes, and was likely already on a train home. If he left now, he might make it there when she did.

He grabbed his keys and ran out of the house. 

Once he’d followed another resident into the building and ran up to her apartment, he knocked, frantically. 

Eunice opened the door. 

“Hey, Quinn…” she said, slowly. 

“Is Sarah not here yet?” he asked. 

“No. I thought she was going to be at your place tonight.” 

“She was. I mean, she was there, but -” he didn’t want to get into this with Eunice. 

“Did you fight?” she asked, cocking her head to one side, and looking at him like he’d just proved her wrong in all the ways she’d been hoping he wouldn’t. 

“We argued, and I came to apologize. Do you mind if I wait for her?” 

“I mean, sure,” she said, opening the door further, “but you could just call her, you know?” 

In his haste, he hadn’t even considered it. Would she even answer if he did? Reaching into his pocket he found he’d left his phone at home. 

Sarah walked from the train station, feeling lead-footed. This was a horrible day. Failed experiments all day at work, and the time actually spent with Quinn was spent arguing. Maybe she had been too harsh on him. She hadn’t told him about moving her plans last week, and that was on her. She’d jumped on the defensive too quickly.

She paused before going into the lobby of her building, digging her phone out of her bag. She didn't want to make this call with Eunice in the house. It rang seven times before the generic voicemail picked up. 

“Damnit,” she swore as she pulled her keys from her jacket pocket to buzz into the lobby. 

Eunice greeted her nearly as soon as she walked in. “Hey, Quinn is here,” she said, quietly, catching the door before it could shut. “He said you argued. He’s waiting in your room, but if you don’t want to see him, go in my room and I’ll get rid of him.” 

Tears pooled in her eyes as much for Eunice’s care and concern as for Quinn showing up. “He’s here?” 

She nodded.

Pushing past Eunice, Sarah ran down the hall to her bedroom. 

He jumped to his feet as soon as the door opened. 

“Quinn, I’m sorry,” she said at the same time he was saying, “I’m such an idiot.”

She let out a watery little laugh, and he went to her, wrapping her in his arms, backpack and all. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into her hair. “I never want you to feel like your time isn’t important.” 

She pulled out of his embrace to look into his eyes. He looked a little like a lost puppy. Her heart twisted. “I’m sorry I got so defensive.”

Quinn shook his head, “You had every right to be defensive. I shouldn't have expected you to just change your plans like that. That wasn’t fair.” 

She gave a hearty sniff and tucked her face into his shoulder. 

They stood there for a while, swaying gently. 

“Does this mean I'm forgiven?” Quinn asked after a few moments of silence.

As she pulled back to look into his face, she said, “yes.”

He pulled her against him. “I'm sorry,” he said again. “I’ll call Brady tomorrow and figure something out that works for all of us.”

Her grip tightened around his waist. “Thank you.” 

They stood in that little bubble for a long while. Soaking in each other and letting the bad day roll off. 

Feeling settled, he couldn't hold back his question any longer, “do you golf?”

She stepped out of his embrace and finally took off her backpack, “what?”

“You have clubs,” he gestured to her door, where a purple bag of golf clubs was tucked behind it. He hadn't noticed it until today, when he'd been alone in her room, distracting himself by looking around at everything Sarah held in high enough esteem to keep in her space. 

“Oh, yeah. My dad taught me. We used to golf every Sunday as a family. I was on my high-school golf team and walked on in undergrad. I got a scholarship my senior year.”

“Really?” he said, beaming like a little kid. 

“Yeah. I don't have much time to go these days, but I'm pretty decent.” 

Quinn knew enough about her to know that if she said she was decent, she was much better than she was letting on. She often downplayed her talents and accomplishments.

“Why?”

“I love golf,” he confessed. “Want to go together when I get back next week? I could get us an evening tee time.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said, smiling as she leaned up to kiss him. 

They broke apart at a wrenching sound from the hallway. 

“You guys are so disgustingly cute,” Eunice said. She was smiling as she said it, though, obviously happy things had worked out. “I'm making Mac and cheese if you want to stay,” she said with a nod at Quinn. 

He glanced at Sarah. 

“Stay,” she urged. “I make a mean turkey sandwich, and believe me, you don't want to miss out on Eunice’s mac and cheese.” 

Even though he had practice in the morning, and knew all the carbs and dairy would make him sluggish, he agreed. 

“Where did you even park?”

“On Nelson, across from the courts.”

“There’s no parking there, you’ll get towed.”

“I just found a free curb and ran up,” he confessed. 

Shoving his shoulder playfully, she said, “let’s go move your car.” 

They did, and the rest of what she said was true - Sarah did make a mean turkey sandwich, and Eunice’s mac and cheese wasn’t something to be missed. He had fun getting to know her roommates, and catching Sarah’s looks when Eunice said something unhinged. It felt like they were starting to create their own private language, and he was ecstatic over it.

It was also true that the carbs and dairy from the night before did make Quinn sluggish at practice in the morning. 

“What’s up with you today?”

He shrugged off the question, “just an off morning. I’ll be fine by tonight.”

By the time the game had ended - vs the Jets, lost, in a three round shoot out - and he’d finished his media duties, Sarah had called him twice.

He called her back on the way home. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked when she answered. 

“Bryan’s sister went into labor, so he has to go home,” she said. 

Quinn had no idea who Bryan was. “Okay?”

“So we had our cohort review tonight before he left for Calgary. I had to miss your game, sorry.” 

If it was between her watching a game and getting dinner with his friends, he'd rather she missed the game. 

“So you can do dinner tomorrow?” he asked, relieved, and also angry with himself. If he’d just let it lie, it would have worked out for the best anyway. 

“Yep. Do you think Brady is still free?” 

“I’m sure, but I’ll call him and ask.” 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Listen to your heart

PAIRING || Boyfriend!Dad!Young!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Mom!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || 6.3K

SUMMARY || You gave birth to your beautiful set of twins nearly two months ago, and it has been very difficult to keep your hands off one another. Though you're still afraid of being fully intimate with your boyfriend again, Tony is an amazing gentleman who will show you there is no need to worry about anything as he makes your first time one you will truly never forget.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || No powers AU. Young!Tony Stark AU. Kid fic. Established relationship.

WARNINGS || Reader is described as having tattoos. Use of nicknames (Sunshine, Love/My Love, Munchkins, Carissima). Insecure!Reader. Breastfeeding. Light angst if you squint.

SMUT || D/S undertones. Switch!Tony Stark. Lactation kink. Drinking of breastmilk (sexual). Mommy kink. Dirty talk. Praise. Begging. Edging. Hair pulling. Oral (F+M receiving). Fingering. Handjob. Deepthroating. Facial/cumming on the face. Cum swap. Thigh fucking. First time after childbirth. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Squirting. Cumming untouched. Multiple orgasms. Aftercare.

A/N || This idea has been sitting in my drafts for months now, but I am glad @ccbsrmsf1 gave me the last push I needed to finally finish it! Thank you for everything, from supporting me while writing and proofreading after it's finished, I owe this fic to you. Because of this, I want to dedicate this fic to you, dear Carol. I love you 3000, bestie! 💙

A/N 2.0 || I have incorporated writing prompt #1086 by @creativepromptsforwriting in this story, which I think is a perfect fit for this story and the love these two share. They have a huge part of my heart, and I love these two to pieces. 💙

EVENTS Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Wild || Free space +'Lyrics of her favorite song tattooed on her arm' Masterlist || @mcukinkbingo || Setting: a hotel room Masterlist || @multifandom-flash Compliments || I have just one thing to say

GIF: @ccbsrmsf1 || All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark Masterlist || AU Masterlist

It's been nearly two months since you gave birth to your beautiful twins, your daughter Orion and your son Hudson. It is like a whole new world opened up for you both when they were finally safe in your arms, and ever since then, you have been living on cloud nine with them in your lives.

But there's one downside to the fact that you've given birth, and that is that you and Tony cannot be fully intimate with each other yet, which is mainly a struggle for Tony. He loves to be buried deep inside you as he pulls every whimper and moans from your body. You know he's missing it, and so are you, but you're not ready for it and unsure how to bring it up.

You're seated on Tony's bed as you're trying to read a book, but you haven't turned a page in almost fifteen minutes, instead being zoned out for most of that time. He just walked out of the shower attached to his bedroom, water droplets dripping from his hair onto his broad shoulders before running down his muscled torso and back.

Usually, you would have been all over him by now, but not today, and it's not sitting right with Tony.

"Is everything okay, Sunshine? You seem a bit out of it tonight," he asks as he comes to sit down on the edge of the bed. He places his hand on your thigh before rubbing it softly with his thumb.

"Y-yeah. I'm sorry, I zoned out for a moment," you tell him with a small smile, but it didn't reach your eyes.

"Is there something on your mind you would like to talk about?" he tries again, and you sigh before putting your book off to the side. Talking about it might make you feel better, so you decide to give it a shot.

"I'm scared to have sex again," you sigh as you close your eyes, embarrassed even to say it out loud, and as soon as the words leave your lips, you're starting to regret it - he probably thinks it's stupid of you even to have brought it up, to begin with.

"Why's that?" he asks softly, his brows furrowed as he looks at you.

"I-" is all you say before huffing out a sigh.

"I don't like the way I look ever since I gave birth, and I'm afraid of you seeing me the same way I see myself. I don't look anything like I did before I got pregnant, and now-" is all you can say before Tony grabs your hand to stop your ramblings for a moment.

"Can I say something, Sunshine?" he asks soothingly, and you nod.

"First of all, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and there's not a single thing that can change that. I mean, you carried our babies for nine months, and then you brought them into this world! You did that! I'm so proud of you, Sunshine, and like I said, you're even more beautiful to me now than ever before," he says enthusiastically, the love dripping from his voice.

He pulls you from your spot against the headboard to sit on his lap, and your gazes meet as he looks at you fondly.

"But most of all, you're the mother of my children, and there's nothing more beautiful than that. Seeing you be a Mom has made my heart feel so full of love and adoration for you. I love being a Dad, but I love seeing you being a natural Mom so much more," he says softly as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"But I also want you to know I will wait as long as you need me to. And even if you're never ready again, that's also okay with me. Knowing I have you and our twins by my side is all I could ever wish for, Sunshine. I love you so much, and I always love you without a shadow of a doubt," he whispers before leaning in and capturing your lips with his, the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes now spilling over.

When you pull away, he brushes them from your cheeks with his thumbs, and a smile appears on your lips.

"What do you think of renting a hotel room for a night once you're ready? Somewhere with a phenomenal view, where we have all the privacy and alone time we could ever wish to experience our first time all over again?" he offers, and you nod immediately.

"It's a perfect idea, My Love, but now I want you to get comfortable on the bed. I want to thank you for everything you do for me," you say before cupping his cheeks and placing a soft peck on his lips. You get up to allow Tony to get comfortable, but not before removing the towel he was still wearing. You're not left disappointed at the sight.

His cock is already at half-hardness as he lies back, and it looks impressive. Not just in length but also in girth. The veins running along it have you drooling, and the way his tip is flushed a perfect red color has you clenching your thighs as well. He has an absolute monster of a cock, and you can't wait to get your hands and mouth on it again.

Before he gets a chance to say anything, you grab his cock, your fingers barely touching as they're wrapped around his girth. Your tongue licks along the light blue vein on the bottom of his length before you take his sensitive tip in your mouth to softly suckle on it. The taste of pre-cum coats your mouth, making you moan softly.

"F-fuck!" he groans out as your hand slowly works him up and down his entire length, and you hum in approval. His hips buck up in your hand when you squeeze him just the way he likes, and a strained moan escapes his throat, too. He's trying his hardest not to cum already, but it's tough as he looks at you, and you look back up at him with your big doe eyes.

"So beautiful," he whispers as his gaze meets yours, his knuckles gliding over the edge of your jaw as his lips curl into an appreciative smile. Meanwhile, you take more of him into your mouth, driving him to the edge of his orgasm once more.

His hips buck up into your mouth and throat as you slowly work more into your mouth, swallowing him down until he's not able to think straight for a little while, just like he wants it. It's not until your nose makes contact with his pelvic bone that a high-pitched whine leaves his throat, and you quickly pull off, afraid you've accidentally hurt him.

"Oh god, please keep going, 'm so close, Sunshine, fuck! 'M so-" is all he can say before you take him into your mouth again, suckling on his tip while your hand keeps working him at a steady pace, and his hips rut up as he's looking for more, needing just a little extra to be pushed over the edge.

Suddenly, everything goes very fast for Tony as your mouth pulls away, but your hand keeps working him while the other one softly tugs on his balls, which are so heavy and full of his cum. Your tongue is stretched out as his orgasm washes over you, most of it landing on your tongue, some ending up on your face as well.

"Good boy," you whisper before you crawl over his body, immediately pulling him into a kiss without swallowing his white gold, instead licking into his mouth to allow him a taste as well. He groans into the kiss as he tastes the salty and tangy flavor of his cum, but he's more than happy to swallow it down, too, together with you.

Once you're both fully satisfied and cleaned up, you get comfortable on top of your boyfriend, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. His fingers gently trace circles over your back as your face is nuzzled into his neck, and your breathing patterns slowly sync up as you both enjoy this moment.

That night, you and Tony sleep like rocks, and you're feeling very grateful to finally have told him what's been on your mind for a little while now. Even though you're not ready yet, you know it's the first step to being intimate with your boyfriend again, precisely in the way you're both craving so much.

It's been a few days since you talked with Tony about not being ready yet, and you can tell there has been a positive shift between you two. He's giving you even more love and attention than usual and is extra mindful of you.

Right now, you're standing in the kitchen preparing two bottles for your twins and talking to Maria about them when Tony walks in with a massive smile and a surprise behind his back. The last time he looked this giddy with excitement, he bought the cutest outfits for the twins, so you're curious about what he's hiding now.

"Hi, Sunshine," Tony says as he softly kisses your cheek, making you smile widely.

"Hi, My Love. What're you hiding from me?" you ask with narrowed eyes and a smile, and your boyfriend can't stop smiling from pure excitement.

"I wanted to surprise you with something beautiful, so I picked up a gorgeous bouquet of sunflowers for you!" he says as he shows the large bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers. The butterflies in your stomach go wild as you feel very loved right now, and you can't stop smiling.

"Oh my god, they're beautiful! Thank you so much!" you say before taking them from him and pulling him into a big hug. His large frame enveloped you as he nuzzled his face into your neck, warmth radiating off his cheeks as you two stood there. Maria smiled at both of you while finishing the bottles for you.

"I love you so much, my beautiful Sunshine," Tony whispers after pulling away, his hands cupping your cheeks before placing a soft kiss on your lips that immediately leaves you wanting more. Your lips follow his when he moves away, and he gladly gives you a few more pecks before getting a vase ready for your sunflowers.

As soon as Tony turns around, your gaze crosses Maria's, and she immediately notices something's off. It's not enough to bring up immediately, but she notices it nevertheless. You give her a reassuring smile, which he reciprocates, and before you can say anything, Tony's already turned around with a vase.

"Alright, will this one be big enough?" he asks as he holds it out, and your attention is pulled back to him.

"I think so. Why don't we find out?" you ask before getting the vase and turning around. You're getting ready to put the flowers in when you suddenly feel a pair of large, muscular arms surrounding you and pulling you back. You close your eyes as you smile at the touch, your hand finding its place on top of Tony's as he hugs you.

"I love you, Tony," you say, slowly swaying back and forth. Your eyes are closed as you enjoy your boyfriend's closeness, and you don't notice Maria walking out of the kitchen with the bottles, ready to feed your babies.

Eventually, Tony lets you go to put the flowers in the vase with his help, and not long after, they have found their way to Howard and Maria's kitchen island, brightening up the room with their presence. As you head to the living room, you grab Tony's hand, who happily interlaces his fingers with yours before walking in.

What you see as you walk in has your heart melting. Howard and Maria are feeding your twins while they look at your son and daughter with an adoration that cannot be put into words. They're their entire world, and you pull Tony close to you at the sight of it.

"How're the little Munchkins doing? Are they hungry today?" you ask as you sit next to Maria, who is giving Orion her bottle. Orion looks at you as you sit down, and your heart melts even more as you think about the fact that you have put her and her brother into this world. Together with Tony, they are your entire world.

"They're doing amazing; both are drinking their bottles like two hungry babies, so I have a feeling they'll be having a very good nap after their feeding," Howard says as he keeps smiling down at Hudson. They're wearing matching onesies, making them look even more adorable.

You softly brush your fingers over Orion's cheek as you smile at her, and your heart feels very full as you look into your daughter's eyes. Your beautiful daughter, who - together with her brother - is the result of the love you and Tony share. It's bigger than you've ever felt before, making you feel complete in a way you cannot describe.

You don't know that Tony is looking at you with the same love while you gush over your daughter, and you, together with your children, make his world complete. Everything revolves around the three of you for him; as long as he has that, he's the richest man on earth.

Just when the twins are done and ready for a change, Maria pulls you aside for a moment as she burps Orion - Howard has already burped Hudson. He gives him a diaper change before his nap while Tony cleans the bottles and makes a snack for himself and you.

"Do you want to go somewhere for lunch tomorrow? I can tell something's on your mind, and I think you could use some one-on-one time without Tony or the kids," she offers, and with those words, it feels like a huge weight is lifted off your shoulders.

"I would love to," you say softly, and Maria nods in acknowledgment. Now that sleep threatens to take over, Orion gets a little fussy. It doesn't take long for the twins and their grandparents to be asleep in their bedroom, as they also decide to nap.

You and Tony have decided to make the most out of the situation for now. He has pulled you into his bedroom, and you're sitting comfortably on his lap, your hands around his neck, and Tony's hands lying on your hips.

He has pulled you into a deep kiss, his tongue gliding against yours in a leisurely pace between nibbling on each other's bottom lips or peppering kisses over each other's jaws and necks, careful not to leave marks that will be visible.

"Hmm, I know you told me three times, but can you say it one more time, please?" you ask Tony with half-lidded eyes and a dopey smile.

"I will say it to you as often as you need to hear it, Sunshine. I love you," Tony tells you, and an excited giggle leaves your lips before you pull him into another kiss. You two haven't been together for that long yet - your second anniversary hasn't even taken place yet - but the love is dripping off both of you.

"I love you too, Tony. Thank you for saving me," you whisper against his lips. Even though you don't think anything of it now, Tony will be thinking about it for a long time. However, right now, he's too busy with you, your soft, sweet mouth, and your beautiful body to care about anything else. That will have to wait for another day.

Maria has invited you to lunch with her and taken you to a beautiful diner where you would never expect to find her. Yet, she looks like she belongs there, and that's because she has been visiting there for years now.

As soon as you arrived—she was there before you because you were running a few errands before meeting Maria—she immediately started telling you some of her fondest memories of the place, and you could not get enough of listening to her talk. Maybe it's the faint Italian accent that still seems to linger or the softness of her voice, but something has you hooked on every word she says.

"Howard and I used to go on dates here all the time, especially at the beginning of our relationship. He used to help me with homework, and he taught me most of the English I know today as well," she says with a fond smile, and that's when a waitress comes over.

"Good afternoon, welcome to our diner! My name is Sophia, and I will be your server today," the woman says in a cheery voice, instantly lifting your mood.

"What can I get you two as a starter today? Coffee, tea, or a menu?" she asks. You both order a cup of tea and ask for a menu to see what they have on offer this time around.

"I'll be right back with them," she says before turning around and heading behind the counter. It's a relatively slow afternoon in the diner, which you appreciate, especially seeing what you want to discuss with Maria today.

"What else have you two done here, if I may ask?" you ask, curious to learn more about Howard and Maria and what they were like in their younger years.

"Hmmm... we shared our first kiss right outside this very diner. It was already after closing, and we stayed until the last moment we could. We had been holding hands the entire evening, and when we left, Howard pulled me close, placed his hand on my cheek, and kissed me. It was lovely, and I still can't believe he did that sometimes," Maria says with a blush on her cheeks, making her look adorable.

"And yeah, ever since then, we try to come here at least once a month to relive old times, and we always like to sit in the same booth as we used to. It's like nothing changed in all those years, and to this day, it feels like I'm falling with my husband all over again when he takes me here," Maria says with a broad smile.

You know the feeling all too well, as that is how Tony makes you feel. It must run in the family to have the Stark men be gentlemen.

"You know, Tony makes me feel like that, too. He already did before Hudson and Orion were born, but it only multiplied once he learned I was pregnant. He's so caring and sweet-" is all you can say before Sophia returns with your tea and takes your lunch orders. Both of you opt to go for an omelet with extra veggies, which sounds delicious to you, and that's when you can finally finish your story.

"As I was saying, Tony is so caring and sweet. Mindful, too. And that's also what's bothering me, I guess," you say as you stare at your tea, the leaves inside swirling around as your spoon spins in circles.

Maria doesn't say anything. Instead, she grabs your hand, squeezing in a comforting way, letting you know she's listening.

"How long did it take for you to be intimate with Howard after you had Tony?" you ask her, and if she was caught off guard by the question, she didn't show it.

"Do you mean how long it took for me to be ready to have sex with my husband again after giving birth?" she asks you, and you nod as you meet her gaze. You momentarily felt embarrassed, but you know it's unnecessary. She didn't judge you when she caught the two of you having sex early on in your relationship, and she's not judging you now.

"It took me longer than I thought it would if I'm being fully honest. Of course, it's different for everyone, but it took almost four months for me. It's a good thing Howard is a patient man, and I know Tony is a patient man as well," she tells you, and you believe her.

"Your situation is very different from mine, though, and there is no time limit on when you should have sex again after giving birth. Some women do it almost as soon as they can walk, and others take months, maybe even years, to build up to it again, and it's all okay. You don't need to feel rushed or like you must do it now; you can take it at your own pace. That's what is best for you both, Carissima," Maria finishes, and you're left momentarily speechless.

You reach out for her hands as you look at her, unsure what to say now, but that's okay. Neither of you feels the need to fill the silence, and the moment feels right.

"Grazie, Mami," you whisper, and Maria's face lights up at you speaking Italian. In all fairness, you haven't learned much yet, but you've been working on it to surprise both her and Tony. Maria's reaction is totally worth it, as she's practically glowing, and if you weren't already her favorite, you definitely are now.

After that, the conversation becomes much lighter as you start talking about your twins again when your food arrives. When you leave the diner, you're feeling a lot better, and this conversation with Maria has done you a lot more good than you thought it would. Now, all that's left to do is discuss it with Tony again before moving on to the next step, which you're looking forward to now.

Almost a month has passed since your conversations with Tony and Maria about not being ready yet, but last night, you had an entirely different one with your boyfriend. This led you to the restaurant you're currently sitting in. He is taking you out to a lovely dinner before taking you to a hotel room, where he is planning on pulling you apart in every way imaginable.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, My Love?" you ask as Tony is seated on the bed reading a book, and you walk out of the shower. Your hair is still dripping from the hot water, and your tattoos are on display since you're wearing only a towel around your body.

"You? Always," he says, the corners of his mouth curling into a sweet smile as he takes in your almost bare form.

"Thank you for being patient with me the past few months, as I know it hasn't been easy on you. But I also want to let you know your patience will be rewarded if you have me. I would love to take you up on booking a hotel room and spending an entire uninterrupted night together so we can make nothing but sweet love for hours on end," you say as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"A-are you sure, Sunshine? We don't have to rush-" "I'm sure, Tony. I want to have sex with you again," you say before pulling him close and giving him a promising kiss, your tongues sliding together to convince him of every last promise you can make.

"Okay, I'll make a reservation right now," he says as he pulls away, a deep blush on his cheeks as he gives you a love-filled look. Not even 10 minutes later, you're cuddled up in your boyfriend's arms while wearing his shirt, and that night is the best night's sleep you have had since the birth of your twins.

"Are you in the mood for dessert today, or do you want to be my dessert tonight?" Tony asks after you've both finished your main courses. You look at Tony with a shocked expression, but he's completely serious. He raises his brow in question, and you shake your head as a chuckle falls from your lips.

"I think you know the answer to that all too well, My Love," you say, and before you know it, you're on the bed in your hotel room as you're completely bare, while Tony is massaging your back while straddling you. He's completely naked too, and his cock is carefully wedged between your thighs. 

"God, I've missed you so much, Sunshine," Tony groans as he slowly works his hands over your back and shoulders, loosening every last knot while he ruts his hips with each movement, his cock being stimulated with every drag of his body.

"Feels so good, fuck!" he hisses as you clench around him, bringing him to the edge before letting go again. Moans tumble from his lips as he keeps working his length between your thighs, and he knows that if this already feels so good, he won't last long when he's buried inside you.

The warmth of your thighs combined with the soft moans as he nudges your clit occasionally have his head reeling, and he wants nothing more than to feel you around him again, but he also knows he has to be patient for that. He wants to do it right for your first time.

"S-Sunshine, 'm so close, fucking fuck! God, 'm so close too; please let me cum, 'm so fucking close," Tony begs as his moans and thrusts get sloppy.

"Cum for me, Puppy, cum for Mommy like a good boy," you tell him, and with those words, he pulls out from between your thighs before spreading them to expose your glistening pussy, and he works his cock over with his hand before he shoots every last drop of his cum over your soaked folds with a loud moan of your name.

Before you know it, you're flipped around with ease, and Tony is lying between your thighs as he licks every last drop of his cum from your pussy. The taste of it, combined with your arousal, has him going wild, groaning against your pussy as he buries his tongue inside.

Your hands have found their home in his hair as you pull him closer to you, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your thighs as his tongue works over your clit as well as being buried deep inside your pussy, licking up every last drop of your arousal in the process.

As Tony keeps working his tongue in the best way possible, you rut your hips up against his face, chasing your high that is quickly building. All you can do at this point is moan uncontrollably, as not a single coherent sentence is coming out of your mouth as Tony goes wild between your legs.

It's not until Tony adds two of his fingers to your pleasure that you're almost falling over the edge, and you need one more little push to fall over. And he's more than happy to give it to you.

His lips attach to your clit as he sucks it with vigor, his fingers plunging in and out of you at a relentless pace that makes the filthiest of squelching noises. Before you know it, you're seeing stars at the edges of your vision, and you're squirting all over Tony's face and the bed with a scream of his name, his hair being pulled hard as he works you through the height of your orgasm.

You're a panting, boneless mess once you finally let go of your boyfriend's hair, but he doesn't mind in the slightest - he came at the same time as you when you squirted for him.

"Good girl, you're doing so well for me, Sunshine," Tony praises you as he rubs your thighs until they stop trembling from the intensity of what you've just gone through. He peppers soft kisses all over your stomach as he makes his way up, but before he reaches your face, he makes one stop: your breasts.

You only breastfed the twins once today, and you didn't pump at all. Instead, you opted to leave it for Tony so he could satisfy his need to drink from you as well. With a soft groan, he latches onto your nipples, and within no time, he can taste the first squirts of your milk on his tongue.

"That's it, drink all of Mommy's milk," you whisper while you're coming down from your high, and all Tony can do is moan softly while rutting his hips against the mattress, despite being so sensitive after cumming twice like that.

While Tony drinks your precious milk, you let your fingers glide through his hair, and you both feel very content in the moment. The satisfying feeling of your boyfriend drinking, combined with the orgasm he just pulled from you, has you dozing off in no time, and Tony decides just to let you nap for now; you're going to need your strength for later.

It takes you a while to wake up from your nap, but as soon as you do, you feel Tony pulling you against his chest. His long fingers are softly tracing over the lyrics of your favorite song tattooed on your arm, making you giggle at the ticklish feeling.

"Welcome back, Sunshine. How're you feeling?" he asks between soft kisses on your shoulder and neck. A smile dances on your lips as you revel in the soft touches, and you open your eyes before turning your head, allowing him to place a few kisses on your cheek, too.

"'M feeling good, My Love. Thank you," you tell Tony before a yawn escapes, and he chuckles. 

"You're cute when you yawn, you know that?" Tony asks playfully, and you can't help but smile as you turn around, now fully facing your boyfriend.

"That might be true, but nothing is cuter than when our Munchkins yawn, to be honest. The newborn scrunch and the yawns melt my heart every time, and I cannot get enough of it. I wish they could forever stay as small as they are now," you sigh as you think about your twins.

"You're right. I'm still so fortunate to have had the honor of becoming a Dad with you by my side, Sunshine. I never thought it would happen, but somehow, with you, it feels right. Like we're right where we are supposed to be, and exactly with the person we're meant to be with," Tony tells you as his fingers glide over your arm and side before finding this place on your hip.

"And maybe one day we can have another one. Or two. Or five. I'm not picky about the amount," he says, and you laugh at his comment. Your heart feels like it's about to explode from pure love, and you cannot thank your boyfriend enough.

"I would love to have one, two, or five more kids with you, Tony. As long as I have you by my side, I know nothing can happen to me - to us. You're the love of my life, and I am grateful to have a family with you," you tell him as a smile tugs on the corners of your lips.

You lean forward to place your lips on your boyfriend's, and he slots his lips together with yours perfectly. The kiss is soft and slow, as you two have all the time in the world tonight. There are no crying babies to wake up to in the middle of the night, no feeding schedule in the middle of the night - just you and Tony in your little bubble.

Eventually, Tony pulls back just enough to roll you onto your back and position himself over your body, your face on the same level as he looks at you with nothing but love. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before leaning down and capturing your kiss in a bit more of a heated kiss this time, leaving you breathless.

"Tony, please," you beg softly as your hands glide over his biceps, and he smirks at you before shifting his weight and grabbing his now fully hard cock again. He pumps it up and down a few times before spreading your thighs a little further, making sure there's enough room for him between them as he lines up with your entrance.

"Are you sure you're ready, Sunshine? We can stop at any time if you're not okay with it," he says, but you nod. You're more than okay with it and want to be intimate with your boyfriend again. You want to have sex with your boyfriend again.

"Take a deep breath for me, Sunshine," Tony whispers against your lips before kissing you softly, and you chase his lips as he pulls away with a smirk. As you take a deep breath, Tony slowly pushes in, and it's like coming home for him.

It's like having been on vacation for months and finally coming home to the one place he missed the most. He has always loved to be buried inside you, but now it feels like absolute heaven to him. With slow thrusts, he works his cock into your soft, velvet walls that suck him in deeper with every movement.

"T-Tony," you moan once he bottoms out, and he has to clench the sheets in order not to cum right away. Now that he's finally where he belongs, he doesn't want to ruin it by shooting his load right away, though he knows he won't last long. With every drag of his cock in and out of your body, your moans start to mingle, and your breaths become ragged as you both are quickly climbing to your highs.

"You feel so good around me, Sunshine. I missed your sweet, soft, warm pussy so much. Been dreaming about her wrapped around my cock, been cumming untouched so many times, and it has been worth it every single time," he tells you between thrusts and with a panting breath. His words only spur you on further as your orgasm is building, and you're on the edge of release.

"Cum with me, Tony, 'm so fucking close," you ask him, and he just nods before picking up the pace. Your foreheads are connected as a thin layer of sweat adorns your bodies, and you pull Tony in for a last, deep kiss as you officially fall over the edge together.

Your walls are clenching and milking his cock as he spills his cum inside you with a moan that you swallow right away. You're both trembling from the intensity of the orgasms after months of not having sex like this, but you're glad to finally get back into the routine of it. You missed it - but most of all, you missed Tony.

"I have just one thing to say, My Love. It's good to be back," you say before bursting out in laughter. Tony agrees before falling into a laughing fit, closely followed by you. For the next fifteen to twenty minutes, both you and Tony are unable to catch your breaths because as soon as you look at one another, you burst out in laughter once again.

Once you two are finally able to look at each other without bursting into laughter, Tony gets up to draw you both a bath, and he makes it extra special with a few candles and your favorite bath bomb, combined with a bottle of your favorite non-alcoholic sparkling wine and two glasses.

"Ready for your bath, m'lady?" he asks as he stands by the foot of the bed, his hand stretched out to guide you to the large tub. You happily let him show you the way before he helps you get in and pulls you close. He pours both of you a glass of sparkling wine, and you both toast to a perfect night together.

"Thank you for doing this, Tony. I love you so much, and I can't wait to see what the rest of our lives together will be like," you tell him before kissing him softly and then bringing the glass to your lips. The liquid is cold but smooth as it goes down your throat, and you hum appreciatively.

"I love you too, Sunshine," he says, and the rest of the night is spent either in the bath cuddling and feeding each other pieces of fruit and chocolate or wrapped up in bed as you're both overlooking the New York City skyline.

However, when the following day arrives, you're more than happy to head home and see your twins, Howard and Maria. As much as you enjoyed the night to yourselves, you can also feel yourself craving some attention from your beautiful babies.

"Ready?" you ask Tony, and he nods. You swing open the door to the living room, and both Howard and Maria are giving the twins a bottle. Hudson drinks from his light blue bottle, and Orion drinks from her light pink bottle. Their outfits match their bottles.

They're dressed in matching outfits again, making them look adorable. But the cherry on top? Seeing Howard and Maria falling in love with them just a little more with each passing moment. They are the best grandparents your twins could ask for, and this moment shows just that.

Tony pulls you into his side as you stand in the doorframe to look at them, not wanting to interrupt their little bonding moment. Seeing your in-laws fall in love with your babies is something you never imagined, but now that you see it, you never want it to be any other way.

And once you're holding your first grandbaby, you know you will look at them the same way they are looking at Hudson and Orion.

[milkibabe]

okay but like.. craig and tweek both fucking the shit out of you at the same time>>

omg you're so real for that anon. youve inspired me to write a whole ass story :3 hope you like it !!

♥ College Party w/ Craig and Tweek ♥

✢ summary: attending Clyde's big college party, your jealous boyfriends Craig and Tweek can't handle other boys flirting with you.

✢ WC: 3018 (oops)

✢ gender: reader is implied to be female <3

✢ warnings: nsfw!! rough sex, degradation, mentions of alcohol, clyde kinda being a weirdo, threesome (yall are in a poly relationship so yeah), lots and lots of swearinggg

✢ authors note: ummm this came out to be wayyy longer than I thought but once I get started on writing I almost never stop. (also i had an original draft that had like 3000+ words that i wrote fully on tumblr and i pressed ctrl z and lost all of it. sad)

You and your boyfriends, Tweek and Craig, have been dating for a few months now. Even though you and the boys were head over heels for each other, the relationship had stayed a secret by your request. You were afraid your friends and family would judge your choice to be in a polyamorous relationship. Tweek and Craig respected your choice to keep it a secret but were slowly growing tired of seeing men hitting on you in front of them. When Clyde invited you to a party at his house, you decided to bring your secret lovers along with you. This party was their chance to claim you as theirs in front of everyone, once and for all. 

It was around 7 pm that you lost track of where your boyfriends went. The music was loud and the crowds of people were a little disorienting. You were about to look for your boyfriends when suddenly Wendy and Bebe invited you over to their little corner to drink. You politely accepted since you thought you should unwind a little with the girls. A few drinks in, Wendy started to talk about her relationship issues with Stan while Bebe just shook her head. 

“Girl, you should just drop him I swear!” Bebe said rolling her eyes. Wendy took another swig and sighed.

“I know, it would be great to be single like Y/N.” Wendy said looking over at you.

You almost spit out your drink. ‘Quite the opposite’ you thought to yourself.

“Yeah, trust me. After I dumped Clyde, my life has been so much better. Sometimes boys are so suffocating and needy.” Bebe said admiring her freshly manicured nails. 

You felt the conversation starting to get a little too serious for your liking, so you excused yourself and went to get some fresh air outside. 

You sat on the back porch, where it was secluded. The air felt cold on your exposed flesh, making you hold your own arms to stay warm. You decided to really dress up, hair and makeup all done up, you wanted to look pretty for your first college party. You felt a little lonely outside, you started to wonder where your two boyfriends went. ‘You have two of them, how did you manage to lose both?’ you thought to yourself. Your thoughts were quickly cut off when you saw two shoes stop right in front of you. 

“What’s up, Y/N?” Clyde asked with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a drink. Clyde was in his usual red varsity jacket, with jeans on. He smelled of alcohol and strong cologne. 

You looked up at him. “Oh, hey Clyde. I’m just getting some fresh air right now.” You replied.

“What’s wrong? Too many people in there for your liking?” He asked sitting next to you. You noticed he was sitting a little too close.

“Y-yeah, I just wanted to get away from all the noise I guess.” You said starting to feel a little nervous. 

“Hm…” Clyde trailed off for a moment. He suddenly put his arm around you, which made you jump a little in shock. 

“We could go up to my room. We’d have plenty of privacy there.” Clyde said with a smug grin.

You gave a nervous giggle in response but were starting to totally panic on the inside. You didn’t know what to do in that situation. 

“Actually, Y/N was just about to hang out with us instead.” You heard a monotone voice behind you. You turned around and saw that it was Craig and he looked pissed. Craig doesn’t normally show emotion, so when he looks even slightly annoyed, you know it's bad. 

“Who the hell invited you two?” Clyde said hesitantly taking his arm off you. 

“Y-your mom!” Tweek spat out in frustration. 

Clyde stood up and walked up to Craig. They exchanged glares for a moment until Clyde looked away. 

“Pshht, whatever. You guys fucking suck.” Clyde said walking away towards the door. Clyde opened the sliding glass and went inside, slamming it behind him. 

You stood up and ran to envelop the two boys in a hug. “Thank you guys, Clyde was being really weird. Please don’t disappear on me again!” You said squishing your face between their arms. 

“S-sorry Y/N, Stan and the others were playing poker and you know that C-Craig is addicted to gambling!” Tweek said starting to fidget a little. 

“Yeah, ‘cos I’m damn good at it.” Craig said matter-of-factly. 

You giggled and backed away. “Well, let's not waste the rest of the night. Let’s go inside and party some more together.” You said starting to walk around them.

“Actually Y/N, we had a different idea.” Craig said putting his hand on your shoulder. His hand was big and had a firm grip on you, so you know he was being serious.

“Oh? What is it?” You asked looking at the two boys in confusion.

“J-Just follow us inside!” Tweek said in excitement, grabbing your hand in his. 

“Ok then!” You said before being dragged off by the two boys. 

You went up the stairs and found yourself in front of a room. It was Clyde’s. Craig opened the door and motioned you to go inside.

“Why are we going into Clyde’s room?” You asked starting to get a little suspicious. 

“Just trust.” Craig said winking at you.

You couldn’t resist Craig when he was being playful, since most of the time he is emotionless. You stepped into Clyde’s room, looking around to find clues as to what you were going to do in it. Tweek walked in after you, with Craig being last inside before they shut the door. You heard the lock click, which prompted you to turn around.

“What’s going on here?” You asked hesitantly. Craig walked up to you slowly, making you back up until you backed into Clyde’s bed. You lost balance and fell backward onto the bed, catching yourself with your elbows. Craig bent down to your level while standing between your legs. 

“Tweek and I are getting a little sick of watching boys hit on you. Right, Tweek?” Craig asked turning his head over to Tweek.

“Y-Yeah! You belong to us, n-not them!” Tweek said in frustration. He started to twitch in anger. 

“I’m thinking we finally make it official huh? Make it known to every guy that you are ours.” Craig said with a subtly grin on his face. He held your chin with his fingers, tilting it to look up at him.

“What do you say, baby?” Craig said awaiting your answer.

You started to feel your whole body warm up from his assertiveness. You couldn’t give a verbal answer, just a nod. Embarrassment started to paint your face and you looked away from his gaze. He was right, you guys weren’t really dating if every boy thought you were still free game. 

“Good.” Craig said in his usual flat tone. He gently pushed your chest, so that you laid down flat. “Everyone will know you’re ours when you’re screaming our names.” Craig said crawling on top of you. His hands parted your nervous legs. 

You haven’t actually had sex with your two boyfriends yet, you were unsure how ready you were for a threesome. But at this moment, your whole body screamed for their touch. 

“G-God, she’s so beautiful.” Tweek said walking around the bed, hovering above you, opposite to Craig. When you looked up at Tweek you could see the tent in his pants already starting to form. Suddenly, you pulled yourself back to reality for just a moment.

“W-wait, isn’t it kind of fucked up to do this in Clyde’s bed?” You asked placing your hand on Craig’s chest.

“Yeah, it is. That’s what makes this even better.” Craig said smirking. He raised his knee to meet your clothed cunt and applied enough pressure to earn a gasp from you.

“B-but if you want us to stop, we can.” Tweek said bending down to kiss your forehead.

You became flushed from the thought of doing something on someone else's bed, but the thought was so thrilling you let the better judgment pass you. You shook your head in response to stopping. Craig pushed his knee a little more, making you squirm. He seemed to get a kick out of teasing you. 

“Already squirming? We haven’t even taken our clothes off yet.” Craig said taking in how you looked, all pathetic and desperate. 

Craig nodded at Tweek, signaling Tweek to move onto the bed, where he sat with his back lying on the headrest. Craig pulled you into his arms (rather effortlessly) and rotated you to where your head was aligned with Tweek’s body. He then flipped you over to your stomach. You were so eager that you didn’t even notice that you got onto your hands and knees already. 

“Y-You look s-so fucking sexy in that dress. M-Me and Craig were talking about how much we wanted to r-rip it off you.” Tweek said moving your hair out of your face. 

Craig became deathly silent behind you, which he normally does when he’s focused. You hadn’t really noticed it though because you were too busy soaking up the praise from Tweek. Craig was admiring the view from behind you, pushing back his urge to just fuck you immediately. No, he wanted to give Tweek a chance to have his fun with you first. 

You smiled at Tweek and dragged your hand seductively down his chest to his pelvis, where you unbuttoned his jeans. Your touch was enough to earn a shutter from him and he started to twitch in anticipation. He helped you pull down his pants, where he tossed them onto the floor amongst the dirty laundry that Clyde had neglected for who knows how long. Your face lit up in shock as you saw how big Tweek’s bulge was. Tweek was painfully hard, obviously being pent up for a long time. He breathed a sigh of relief when you finally pulled his cock out of his underwear. You let it lay against your cheek for a second and smiled. You looked up at Tweek and met with his lustful gaze. Tweek was speechless, he just took his hand to lovingly rub your cheek in response. 

You then took the tip of his cock into your mouth. You closed your eyes and let your tongue do its magic. That was when you felt Craig grind his pelvis against your ass. Your moaned while taking more of Tweek into your mouth, earning a grunt from Tweek. 

“F-Fuck you two are so fucking hot, ah!” Tweek exclaimed while holding onto your head. 

 You started to bob your head up and down, building up the excitement in Tweek’s body. Tweek was trying to be patient, but you were going at a painfully slow pace. 

“Y/N, c-can you go faster?” Tweek asked eagerly. 

You hummed ‘mhm’ as a response and started to go faster. The faster pace was nice and all, but Tweek was hungry for more. He wanted to go all the way down your throat. 

“Mmm n-need more!” He said getting restless. He suddenly gripped your hair and pulled your head so that his cock went further down your throat. You choked in surprise and tried to catch your breath but it was too late. The shy blonde had already started and there was no way he could slow down now. 

“S-Shit so fucking good!” Tweek spat out, gripping your hair on both sides. He was thrusting into your face at this point and even though you were struggling to breathe, it was really fucking hot. Your muffled moans in desperation only urged the blonde to keep going. 

“Careful now Tweek, don’t break her before I get to.” Craig said gripping your ass. 

“I-I’m sorry her throat is so a-addicting.” Tweek said as his head tilted back in ecstasy. 

You broke away from Tweek’s grip for just a moment so that you could catch your breath. Tweek was absolutely covered in your spit, his cock aching from the absence of your mouth. You were about to say something when you were cut off by the sensation of fingers entering your wet pussy. You moaned out in surprise when you realized just how neglected you were down there. You hadn’t noticed how wet you were because you were so focused on Tweek. Craig wanted to remind you he was still there, watching you two have your fun. He curled his fingers to hit you in that perfect spot, making you whine out in pleasure. 

Tweek gripped your hair and pulled you down to his cock again. “Don’t forget to finish what y-you started.” Tweek said rubbing his dick against your lips. 

You took him back into your mouth, letting him control the pace once more. Tweek went back to fucking your throat, making an absolute mess of your hair in the process. You felt Craig’s fingers leave you for a moment, which earned a disappointed moan from you. It didn’t last for long though, as Craig pushed the tip of his cock against your entrance. Startled by it, you wanted to turn around to look but Tweek gripped your head. 

Tweek’s tone was darker than you’re used to hearing and didn’t contain his usual stutter. 

“No, look at me. I want you to look me in the eyes while I cum down your throat.” Tweek said briefly pausing before slamming his cock as far down your throat as it could go. 

Your eyes watered and your throat was starting to feel really sore, but seeing Tweek embrace a more dominant side had you entranced. That was when Craig thought it was a great idea to push his cock inside of you. Your already tired voice let out a muffled moan as he struggled to push deeper. 

“Fuck, you’re really tight.” Craig said gripping your hips. Your legs started to buckle from the feeling in your gut, but Craig held you up. 

“Don’t break on us just yet, I want to use your slutty little hole first.” Craig said bending over you, whispering into your ear.

Craig then started to thrust into you, making you instinctively grip the sheets of the bed. You wanted to bury your head into the mattress while he fucked you, but Tweek was still fucking your throat. You were completely overstimulated, your two boyfriends were ruining you from both ends. 

Tweek’s movements started to become more shaky and sloppy, meaning he was coming close to his release. Your spit was collecting at the base of his cock and it was starting to drip onto Clyde’s sheets. Tweek pulled your head far enough to where your nose was squished against his pelvis. This sensation led him right over the edge where he grunted out, “Fuck, I-I’m cumming!” You whined as you felt his thick fluids slide right down your throat. He held your head all the way down for a few moments while Craig started to quicken his pace. Tweek slid out of your mouth from exhaustion and let go of his tight grip on your hair. 

Craig pulled your ass up so that it was all the way in the air. Your back was arched as he drilled into your cunt. Now that your mouth was free, your moans could now be audible. Tweek let you rest on his lap as you got obliterated from behind. 

“D-Don’t be shy, let everyone know who you belong to.” Tweek said moving the hair off of your sweaty forehead. 

“Yeah slut, I told you to scream for us.” Craig said, voice a little out of breath from his thrusts.

“F-Fuck! Mmm! Fuck me harder Craig ah!” You screamed out, not realizing the loud music that was playing outside was turned off a while ago.

“Who do you belong to?” Craig asked slamming his hips against your ass hard enough to make lewd slapping noises. 

“I belong to y-you guys! I belong to Tweek and Craig, f-fuuck!” You whined out, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. 

“Good fucking girl.” Craig said pleased. He moved to an angle where he could dip even deeper inside of you. Rewarding your obedience by kissing your cervix with his dick. Your screams and moans of pleasure filled the room. Your lewd sounds were so loud in fact, that you couldn’t hear the banging and yelling outside of the door. You started to feel your release come very close and your body was ready to give in.

“Mmm— close sooo close!” You whined out, your body almost going limp. 

“Me too baby, cum with me.” Craig said quickening his pace. He used his hand to push down on your stomach, which was enough to give you that orgasm you desperately craved. You screamed out and squeezed your legs together. Your pussy clenched around Craig when you came, which in turn helped him reach his release.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you!” Craig grunted out while holding your hip against his. You could feel his warm seed fill you as his thrusts slowed down. 

He finally slipped out of you and kissed your back. You collapsed on top of Tweek soon after from exhaustion. Craig laid next to you guys and covered all of you with the blanket that was draped on the corner of the bed. 

The door was finally kicked down by Clyde shortly after. Clyde was infuriated and yelled out, “What the fuck is going on here—” But Clyde cut himself off when his face went pale and his jaw dropped in shock. 

Soon the others shuffled to get a peek out of curiosity and collective gasps could be heard from the sight. 

“Nice.” Kenny said impressed.

“Called it. You lost the bet fatass.” Kyle said holding his hand out.

“Dammit!” Cartman said angrily. 

Clyde was at a loss for words and just gawked at Craig. You were embarrassed as hell and hid behind the covers. 

Craig smirked and flipped off Clyde.

It was pretty obvious that your relationship was no longer a secret. 

[nahoney22]

Congrats on the 3k! Not shocked at all, you're wonderful and deserve it! 💜 I was wondering if you'd do a smut piece with Echo and fem reader with the NSFW prompts 'can you feel what you are doing to me?' And 'you are the biggest turn on'? But would it be possible to add the 'accidental brush' prompt to it? If not, no worries! But maybe like a mutual pining/idiots being in love with each other and not realizing it until something finally caves? I'm a sucker for that stuff lol

3000 Prompt List Celebration

Echo X F!Reader

word count: 1.6k

NSFW

prompts:

• “Can you feel what you are doing to me?”

• “You are my biggest turn on.”

• & ‘Accidental Brush’

warnings: NSFW, explicit sexual content, mutual pining, idiots in love, female reader, first kiss, flirting, handjob, fluff, aftercare.

authors note: oh @theroguesully I’m so sorry about the wait! This was completely lost in my drafts and it was scheduled to be posted literally months ago but Tumblr said no. Anyway, hope this is okay and thanks for the support! Love this idea.

“Are you busy?”

You glanced up to find Echo near, his mechanical hand cradled in his grasp. "I've got time," you replied as you set your previous task to the side, observing him settle next to you as he lays his prosthetic down gently. "What seems to be the problem?"

"It's acting up. No clue what happened. I've tried everything," he explained, a hint of frustration evident in his voice. Your lips curled into a knowing smile.

"You think I might have a solution?" You took the cybernetic hand, studying the connections and circuits. "When did it start acting up?"

"Roughly an hour ago," he admitted, his gaze intently following your movements. Most people made him feel self-conscious about his enhancements, but with you, he felt different. It was your gentleness, your genuine care. And the undeniable fact that you were the most enchanting individual he'd ever encountered - a secret he guarded closely. Though he had his suspicions that maybe Hunter knew. And Wrecker… and everyone else. Just hopefully, not you.

"Hang tight, I'll sort this out," you said, pinpointing the malfunction. "I can bring it over when I'm done."

"You trying to send me away already?" He teased.

"N-No, it's just—" You stuttered, forever caught off guard by Echo's smooth presence. From the moment you'd met, you could not deny the fact he made your heart skip a beat. He was also so tentative and kind, not to mention utterly handsome too.

“Mind if I stick around?”

The intensity of his gaze caused your hands to waver just a fraction, betraying the storm of emotions raging within you.

"Of course," you managed to reply, trying to sound more composed than you felt, then refocused on the task at hand.

As you began to work away, Echo was captivated. Watching you effortlessly navigate the intricacies of mechanics always left him in awe. In his eyes, your skill rivaled that of even the most seasoned experts like Tech. Or perhaps he was simply biased.

But as time passed, his appreciation began to shift. While you remained engrossed in fixing the issue, his eyes strayed to the gentle curve of your lips, the way you absentmindedly bit down on your bottom lip as you concentrated. It wasn't meant to be enticing, yet he found himself stirred by the sight. He swallowed hard, an uneasy tension filling the air around him. Shifting uncomfortably, he hoped you wouldn't notice the effect you had on him.

Echo's sudden fluster caught your attention, making you smirk mischievously. "Everything okay?" you teased, having caught his uneasy demeanor.

"Just... feeling a bit warm," he replied, his fingers absentmindedly adjusting his collar.

"Well, don’t worry because I’m now done." You handed over his fixed prosthetic, your heart fluttering as you awaited his verdict.

The ease with which he reattached it and the grin that spread across his face told you everything. "You really are something," he whispered, though not quietly enough to escape your ears.

You leaned closer, the playful edge in your voice unmistakable. "And what’s that?"

He met your gaze, a warmth emanating from his eyes that had your heart skipping a beat. "Brilliant," he replied, his voice firm with conviction.

Taken aback, you offer a shy smile, averting your gaze. "I should get back to my work," you murmur, gesturing to your previous task. He follows your gesture and nods in understanding.

"Do you need a hand?" Echo offers, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

"No, it's just some minor tweaks left. But hey, if your arm gives you trouble again, let me know," you reply warmly, your words making him feel an unexpected surge of warmth.

He returns the smile, more genuinely this time. "I appreciate that. Is there any way I can thank you? Anything you need?"

Caught off guard, the first thing that comes to your mind spills out, "A hug?"

His eyes widen, clearly taken aback. You've shared casual touches, sure, but a hug was stepping into new territory.

Seeing your hesitation, he responds with a soft smile, "I'd like that."

You both stand and Echo's eyes search yours for a moment, and then with a gentle determination, he opens his arms to you. The galaxy seems to slow as you step into his embrace. The surprising warmth of his body against yours feels both unfamiliar and comforting, the steady beat of his heart syncing with the rapid thumping of your own.

You rest your head against his chest, discreetly inhaling the unique scent of him - a mix of metal, oil, and something distinctly Echo.

But, something feels different.

You pull back from him slowly and that’s when you see it. Your mouth subsequently waters and a sudden heat pangs at your core.

Your heart races as Echo, completely forgetting that his previous arousal hadn’t completely faded and the hug, only sprung it back as you accidentally brushed against him.

“It’s not what it looks like.” He utters quickly, eyes wide and absolutely mortified but you’re too stunned to speak.

And you’re not at all upset. In fact, you are rather in awe. “Then… what does it look like?”

Echo's face burns, the combination of his embarrassment and the close proximity making it all the more intense. He struggles to find words, his confident demeanor faltering in the face of his unexpected vulnerability.

"It's... I mean..." he starts, trying to form a coherent thought, "Being close to you, feeling your warmth, it just... affected me. And watching you work…”

Your eyes remain locked onto his, the weight of the realisation settling in. The physical evidence of his attraction had been a surprise, but in a way, it also confirmed what you had both been dancing around for so long.

Taking a deep breath, you muster the courage to admit, "I affect you, huh?"

As you didn’t back away, in fact coming closer, Echo let out his own deep breath and sincerely hoped he was reading the look in your eyes correcting. “You’re my biggest turn on.”

With your eyes dancing in delight at his confession, you couldn’t help but lick your lower lip, enticing Echo more whose eyes flicker straight to your lips that he had been thinking of kissing for so long. “I think I’ve thought of a new way you can thank me, Echo.”

“And what’s that?” He rasps.

Closing the distance once more, you gently let your hand begin to palm the aching length in his pants, having him shudder and moan in satisfaction. “I think you know.”

Without a second thought, Echo’s lips are on yours. He kissed you like a man starved, tongue diving deep into your mouth as you manage to slip your hand into his pants, taking a grasp of his warm cock that twitches beautifully under your grasp. “Fuck, Echo,” you compliment as you feel how big and perfect he was.

“Can you feel what you are doing to me?” He breathes against your lips, earning a grin of your own as your pussy throbs in response.

“I never thought you’d feel this way about me,”

“How could I not?”

Pulling his pants down to his ankles, you take a second to break the kiss and to admire his length. Both of your hands come into contact with him and he grunts at the sensation. “You look so good stroking my cock,” he whines, leaning against the control panel as he gazes down at your hands that start a perfect synchronised rhythm, pumping against his as precum lubes up your motions.

You lock eyes with him, his hooded with lust as you pleasure him with your hands, watching his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. “Do you like this?”

“I love it, I love it so much.” He whimpers, knees shaking as you cup his balls, gently fondling them whilst your other hand maintains its rhythm. “D-do you want me to touch you?”

You smirk but gently shake your head. “I just want to focus on you today, I want to show you what I’ve always wanted to do.”

He blinks, surprised and incredibly aroused. “You have?” He says with a soft grunt, biting his own lip as he feels his climax start to build.

“Mhm, I’ve… I’ve always wanted to do this. With you.”

“Well,” he reaches his hand up and cups your cheek before sliding his lips over yours in a quick and heated embrace, “don’t let me stop you.”

Your pace begins to quicken, and his breathing becomes more stuttered as his hips involuntarily start to roll, sliding his cock in and out of your grasp. “Not - oh fuuuck - not going to last much longer sweetheart.”

“Cum for me Echo, cum.”

He’s saying your name over and over, his head tilted back as you pump frantically at his cock until you feel a beautiful warm texture paint your hands. You gasp at the feeling, his silky white cum covering your hand.

When you pull back, you quickly grab some tissue and clean yourself up, shyly handing over some for Echo who takes it, completely flustered. “Thank you.”

“So,” he says slowly once he’s tidied himself up and pulled his pants back up, “can I ask what this means?”

“I mean,” you shift in your position, sincerely hoping you’ve read the situation between you both correctly, “I think it’s obvious that I have feelings for you.”

At this, he blows out a breath of relief. “Good. Great,” he smiles warmly, “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time too. I just didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

You approach him again, this time you both instantly fall into each other's embrace. “You’re just going to have to thank me next time in a different way.”

His eyes widened slightly, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "Is that so?"

You nodded with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Definitely."

Echo chuckled softly, his hand resting gently against the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. "I look forward to it. Just know that I have plenty of ways to show my gratitude."

☀️ Requests Open until the 15th of October. ☀️

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova a @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @imalovernotahater @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894

[ewyband]

EWY BIG Q&A

hi!! recently i did a q&a on instagram about SLAD. unfortunately (or fortunately?) there were too many questions to answer purely on instagram stories without spamming. here's the ones i couldn't answer on instagram, answered here!

MERLOT, both in terms of my favourite composition and performance

my partner and i were on a break whilst they were studying abroad ("we're only on month 1 of 4"). I just kinda word vomited my feelings. I was feeling pretty depressed at the time I wont lie.

yes i DID!!! this EP was MADE for fun. i wrote the songs specifically to make fun songs to play live. (aside from HOLLOW DRUG)

"And I could be displaced from my home And it could be seen on all your phones Is it real? Or is it fake? Look close, do my arms look like legs?"

probs the most lyrically dense I've been?? i'm not sure.

first of all, thank you so much!! second, some songs i write it all in one day but others can take a week or so before i'm fully happy with how its sounding. that being said, i always end up changing something before recording (usually around a month after writing, but in the case of MERLOT, that was recorded only a week after writing).

if i had to just name one, it'd be Nirvana. I wrote a 3000 word essay on In Utero for uni and that genuinely inspired me to make these songs. I really loved how Nirvana performed and I thought 'man, if only I had songs like that where I'd have an excuse to go crazy' other influences would include Jeff Rosenstock (my #1 fav artist) and PUP (greatest live show I've ever been to) btw, thank u sm!!

yes,,, very much

unfortunately i havent learnt proper scream technique so all of my screams were done at the very very end of my recording sessions. i think it worked out because that meant i had a lot of pent up frustration

i will start by saying my uni lets me hire out all of these microphones for free (if you don't count the student loan) vocals: SM7b & RE20 (only on sociopathic leech) guitar: AKG C414 matched pair (acoustic and electric) bass: my takes were originally done with an RE20, pretty sure fern just DI'd drums: Audix DP7 + SM57 (for hi-hat) + C414 for room mic's

i'll try get this done tomorrow!

i was in a guitar lesson at uni and we were talking about chromatics in the blues scale. my guitar teacher suggested i try to make a riff using the blues scale and particularly the chromatic part. that riff ended up being the middle 8 section of RIGHTS TO MY WRONGS. the rest of the song basically acted as a vessel to transport this breakdown middle 8 section. hopefully it doesn't come across that way !!!!!! but that was the main idea.

it felt very natural. i'll probably continue to go this direction in my future releases.

its mainly a reference to SOCIOPATHIC LEECH! 'i could beat you with a bat'. i just wanted something that felt visceral and angry and i feel like izzie really captured that.

yes and no! brett romnes is a super nice guy and very fun to work with. i obviously had my own mixes so he could see what i preferred and essentially made it better. i think there ended up being 4 drafts before we reached a final master.

these were my original mixing notes! i think the only thing that really got lost in translation was i added some really subtle vocal distortion at the end of HOLLOW DRUG in my original mix. in the end, i feel empowered by brett because he made it sound like what i felt it should sound like in my head (DOES THIS SENTENCE MAKE SENSE!?)

after i wrote SOCIOPATHIC LEECH and RIGHTS TO MY WRONGS, i was like 'okay, this is the style we're going for, lets do some sort of project in this particular style' i was pretty dead set on an EP since i'd just done an album. so to answer your question, yes and no!

i wish i could put something significant here. im sure theres some psychologist out there who could tell me that the song represents something about me. i was feeling alienated at the time, hopefully this helps? "confess your sins to the crowd, no-one can hear you when you're talking so loud" is definitely about my frustrations with song meanings though

hi mikey!

this person was the GM for a cyberpunk TTRPG game i played in. i wanted to write a cyberpunk themed album at one point but i guess that one merlot line is the closest we'll get.

i have semi answered this question but I WANTED TO WRITE SONGS THAT WERE FUN TO PLAY LIVE !!!!! and i think it worked out in the end

THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO WROTE IN !!! MY ASKBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!!!

[azuresky-agere]

CG!Diluc and Little!Venti

(venti getting overwhelmed in angel's share, and dadluc coming to the bard's aid.)

-aka a small draft I cooked up because I couldn't sleep.

--

Venti was never really one to be...quiet. it was an odd sight to see at the main bar of Angel's Share - Venti being completely silent. Usually he was up and about, yelling at other patrons across the bar, or playing his ballads, which would undoubtedly gain him a crowd and a half. A crowd for the fellow in green meant simply one thing:

Wine.

The bard would ask for payment in glasses of wine and only the richest apples, which he would snack on during his breaks.

But not tonight. For the entire night was his break.

Diluc finished serving a table, glancing at the other, who was slumped over his barside, quiet as a mouse. Not a single glass has been by his side all night, and he'd gotten to the tavern half an hour ago. Usually, not ordering or drinking anything would give Diluc the right to kick him out, but he could tell something was wrong.

"Venti." He simply said. "Are you okay?"

The bard in question forces a smile on his face, looking up at the man. "Why, of course." His voice is dead, long gone from this realm. Usually, he's cheery, but it was probably a facade.

"Do you want a drink?"

He simply nods, ordering apple juice, to his suprise.

Hours pass, and he seems to get worse. More patrons leave, and as the night progresses and more alcohol finally hits people's bodies, it gets louder. People start to yell, and there's a fight or two between people that doesn't escalate much, but Venti can see blood.

With the sight of the crimson dripping onto the wooden floorboards of the tavern, he leaves. It wasn't a lot, most likely sourced from a nosebleed, but he's seen enough blood in his lifetime. The door clicks behind him, and not a single patrons notices.

But Diluc does.

When Venti's able to calm down, he slips to the side of the building, and silently cries. It doesn't take Diluc two minutes to follow the sound, and find the other.

"Luc..." He coughs out. Diluc slips himself next to him, and he can't help but feel worry and concern course through his mind.

"I'm here, kiddo." He says. The 'kiddo' part wasn't really intentional, as he had cared for Kaeya a few days ago, and his brain was probably still in 'Caregiver' mode. Curses. "How do you feel, Venti?"

He sniffles, hardly able to get words out. "Fuzzy....an'...an' I wan' it to go away. But it won't...". He manages. "Am I dyin', Diluc?"

Diluc shakes his head. "You're not dying. Did the blood upset you?" Seemingly, he's attempting to change the subject.

"mhm." Venti nods, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "I saw a lot of blood in th' Archon War. Blood is scary."

Diluc nods, offering his hand to the other. "I understand. War is scary, kiddo. You're so brave for going through that." Diluc is simply just testing the waters. He knows that Venti is the Anemo Archon, and that he's lived through almost 3000 years. He's sure to have seen things which have left him unsettled and traumatized no doubt.

Something that a mortal like him can hardly comprehend. But still, he tried to help.

"mhm. Had to hurt people, but I didn't wanna-" Venti choked out, curling up into Diluc's side in order to not burst out crying in the middle of the street.

"You said you felt fuzzy earlier, yes?"

Venti nods. "it happens sometimes, an' I don't know why. My brain just goes all..weird."

"and how do you make it stop, Venti? Have you found a way?'

He nods. "Sometimes I just get blankets and wrap them 'round myself. Sometimes it just goes away after a bit."

"you could be experiencing age regression, Venti."

The bard falls into silence once more. "What's that? Is it good...?"

"it depends how you look at it. It's when you feel like a kid again, and do kid things. There's a few things it's linked to, such as stress or PTSD." Judging by the fact that Venti's an archon, not to mention an old archon at that, he suggests that Venti has some form of PTSD, or maybe even some sort of survivor's guilt. But, he puts that aside and carries on for now. "Sometimes people can feel mentally young, and they do activities like that. They use items like pacifiers, teethers, bottles, you know?"

Venti shakes his head. "Never been a kid. You're just sayin' words."

Diluc chuckles, realising that he's right. "You're right. Just...try sucking on your thumb, it might help with your thoughts."

Venti nods, doing just that. He finds himself cooing and chirping at the feeling,

"you can chirp?" Diluc questions.

Venti nods. "Mhm. Wisp."

"ah, okay. Do you want to go back to your place tonight, or do you want-"

Diluc cuts himself off, as he feels Venti crawling into his lap. "No leaving me."

With a chuckle once more, he scoops the other up with an exaggerated grunt, resting the younger against his chest. "To the winery, I suppose."

Diluc trusts that Venti won't sneak to the basement and get himself intoxicated beyond relief, as he's probably very deep in his headspace, judging by the fact that his thumb hasn't left his mouth, and every single shiny thing under the night's sky seems to catch his attention.

Venti eventually settled into his shoulder, putting like a cat as he dozes off. Diluc lets him, making sure they he is safe and content before walking to the winery. He's sure to get the other fed and clothes, perhaps with a stuffed animal, too.

The thought of the bard being homeless passes his mind, but decides to leave that until Venti is much...bigger in headspace.

[squarebracket-trickster]

Author Ask Tag Game

A huge SORRY and thank you to @mjparkerwriting for tagging me in this waaaaay back in August (what the heck - how did this happen haha).

What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

That sometimes being a strong, independent woman isn't enough. Sometimes we can't succeed alone or even with the help of loyal friends. Sometimes it really does take structural, systemic change and that change doesn't happen in a single life time.

As for why I chose this theme... I didn't really. I started with a premise (princess runs away from arranged marriage and accidentally falls in love with guy she was betrothed to). When I turned that premise into a plot with stakes I decided to have something that pressured the protagonist to go back to her marriage. The thing I chose was needing to prevent a war. The theme just kind of emerged from the tension between her saving her people and not being trapped in a marriage she didn't want.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

Southern England (loosely) in 1333 AD and some other cultures that would have been in contact with, bordering, or having diaspora in England (Wales, France, Breton, Al Andalusia, Persia, Byzantine Empire, Jewish diaspora, and like one thing from Scotland).

Other inspirations include a few Shakespeare comedies, how Tolkien uses English speech patterns to indicate social class, the Robin Hood myth, and Tennyson's poem "The Splendour Falls".

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

Draft 2 had 15 chapters averaging between 3000-5000 words. I've already broken up one of those chapters in draft 3 and will probably break up more. So, at least 16? But I might split them all in half if I decide they are too many pages when I finally change the page size of my manuscript from standard word doc to book-sized. So maybe around 30?

6. When and why did you start writing?

The immersive daydreamer who loves to read to fandom to CinemaSins to film and tv show critique YouTube to writing advice YouTube to I'm gonna write my daydreams down so I can reread them for fun to I want to try my hand at a properly structured novel (but it's just for me) to dammit, I've put so much work in I want to polish this and publish it one day Pipeline is very, very real.

7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers on Tumblr do you follow?

You can edit a bad draft. It is so much easier to fix something than to make something from scratch. Your first draft is not an adequate reflection of your abilities as a writer - neither is your second, neither is your third. Asking for help is a skill, rewriting is a skill, workshopping is a skill, googling writing advice is a skill, taking a break is a skill. Your novel isn't your best work until it's done - feedback, and breaks, and months of writer's block and all. Push through. You're not a bad writer, or a good one for that matter, until there is a finished product to judge. I know looking at an unfinished draft riddled with problems can be demoralizing but you will find those problems and you will fix them. Just be patient.

I'm gonna steal MJ's idea and tag seven of my "other writers" - seven because that's how many questions are on in tag game.

@zeenimf, @ambiguouspuzuma, @macabremoons, @lexiklecksi, @sleepyowlwrites (though you've probably been tagged 1000 times in this haha), @stesierra, @ettawritesnstudies

[inkwingsinc]

Question round (I love these so much)

1. What made you decide to become a writer? (was it always something you knew you wanted to do or did it come to you later on in life.)

2. What was your favourite genre’s growing up? (could be a genre from movies or books)

3. What is your proofreading process like?

4. How do you stay motivated in your writing process?

That’s it for my question round 😂.

ps. Any chance for an update this week? 🙏 ❤️

This is so cute omg, thank you for the questions I love them too! <3333

I didn't really decide to be a writer, it just became a hobby organically in childhood. I wrote my first "story" at age 6 because I was obsessed with R.L. Stine kid's horror stories and the "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" series (and at age 8 I got in trouble for bringing my mom's Stephen King books to class LOL). It's always something I've just kind of *done*. I work in an unrelated field to publishing but I write a lot for work, so I think the hobby has served me well outside of stories, too.

Horror!!!! Scifi and fantasy were a close second in a cozy lil tie. In young adulthood I got really into romance which had some uhhhhh interesting interactions with my previous predilections

My proofreading process is chaotic and 100% novice. I write like a demon on crack for the first draft, and then a day or so later I'll sweep through it with a blowtorch and do a hack-job of copy-pasting entire passages into the order I want them. I catch myself switching tenses OFTEN because the tense I imagine stories in is different than the tense I write in (so there are quite a few typos I'll have to fix on the back end when I complete my fics/stories). Also I get "sticky" on certain words. I keep trying to put the word "ameliorate" in damn near everything I write and I have to go back and beat myself with a stick to remove it from appearing 3000 times (I think I may have been successful so far...)

Motivation? I don't know her *cries* This might be an unpopular answer but for me writing is an entirely passive process. My imagination runs laps around my actual writing speed so a lot of it is just me sitting in front of my laptop and being Tortured By Visions until I'm satisfied. This has unfortunately led me to take long hiatuses from stories (RIP Sanguine Witch est. 2018) because if my mind isn't chewing on it, the words don't come.

BONUS: I am trying to update tomorrow but I'm a horrible little gremlin that keeps deleting paragraphs. I appreciate everyone's patience <3

[bitebitesnap]

What Are You

Does anyone remember that time I said I had an AU for Guilty Gear? Yeah I don't really have much of an explanation for this beyond it was a test of that AU that I wanted to write that;s evolved into...this.

So yeah um, this has been sitting in my drafts for -checks notes- at least a few months??? I really wanted to get it out much earlier than now but tbh I'm just glad it's finally done so have this nearly 3000 word thing before I overthink it.

Heat burned in his eyes and throughout his chest. Smoky embers rolled through his throat, coating his tongue in ash and soot. Strain filtered through his forearms, resting hot on the shoulder. He shoved harder, grip tight around the wrench.

Absolutely nothing. The bolt remained as steadfast as any rusty piece of crap would be from lack of care.

His brow pinched tight. A deep frustrated breath heaved in his chest as a trickle of sweat rolled down his temple, "Hng...dammit.." He tugs the wrench free, staring at the thing with a harsh scowl.

"Still struggling down there, hothead?"

He rolled his eyes almost good naturedly-not that you could see, "Shut up. I'm making progress, quite making fun of me." He brushed the back of his hand against his cheek, smearing something viscous but he ignored it. The headband had been an oversight, as he meant to take it off before getting under his little project, but at least the leather kept the sweat out of his eyes

You still laughed at him while kicking your feet, "Maybe I will when you're not getting covered in grease and let us both get something to eat for once!"

He huffed, "It's not that simple. Can;t just force the damn thing, it takes a careful touch. One wrong move and," Metal pings sharply right into his ear, but it proves his point as the exhaust rocks softly against his flick, "This thing goes right into my face."

He hears your hair rustle as you push it behind your ear nonchalantly, "And? You've been punched real hard by a car once."

"Got hit by a car."

"Semantics aren't important." Your shadow on the wall waves off his scoff, "You'll be fine."

"I will. This won't." He picks up the end of the topic of discussion to hold it out from underneath the motorcycle, "This thing was half a month's payment to get and I don't feel like remaking it. And the manufacturer is out of business for the rest of the year, so there's no replacement either." The recently polished pipe squeaks as he props it back onto his shoulder, hanging precariously just over his face.

The singular reason why it couldn't just be pushed out of his way was staring him in the face with all it's rusted stubbornness-a joint from the old exhaust kit still set in place. He'd left it when first starting since it wasn't too important yet, but now he kind of wished he did. The rust had soldered the bolt into the frame and he couldn't replace that without completely fucking up the whole shape of the bike. If the section he was on wasn't a support brace he wouldn't have been worried about it, but there it was right in his face like a fist to the nose and here he was trying to fix it.

To add insult to injury it was quarter past noon, right in the heat of the day. The sunlight from the garage's ratty window was like a branding pole right across his chest, not held back in the slightest by the missing slats in the already broken blinds. He'd already sweat through his one good shirt-thankful for the one time he thought ahead and took off his vest for 'safety reasons' that only meant for the jacket to sustain the least amount of damage possible.

"Yeah fair enough on that end I guess." Your small sigh stills his hand before he can pick up the wrench again, "The Dragoons have been getting worse." And he almost rolled his eyes, huffing under his breath.

Dragoons. Half human, half dragon. Monsters in the form of men that only knew destruction. The reason for the current lockdown that pushed him off the King's work list for a while. For his own sake, he said.

Bullshit.

His grip on the wrench tightened, "Yeah. Like always." The frame creaked a bit as he pushed himself into place, the old wheels on the cart he laid on rattling under his back, "Bastards love to make things worse whenever they crawl out of their holes." Like keep him from getting an actual set of jacks for the bike over his head and leaving him to resort to ram-shackling the thing on top of scrap and a pile of real thick phone books.

You only hummed. The tips of your steel toed boots flicked in and out from behind the front wheel. You;d sat yourself on one of the many old crates he had yet to haul out of this old garage, leaning back and kicking up your heels like you owned the place. He didn;t doubt you came without your phone, which he did hear you tap away on again once you stopped answering. So he turned back to the subject in his hands-a stubborn bolt that refused to move.

It was after a few minutes of him quietly struggling to himself that you spoke up, clearly bored with whatever you had been entertaining yourself with before, "Though it's kind of confusing to me." He lets out a tight hum for you continue, "How are you different?"

He grunts through his teeth-damn this thing refused to move, "Different? The Hell are you on about?"

"I mean." You hesitate, huffing as you gather your bearings, "Why aren't you?" Your heels tap against the crate as you swing them.

"Why aren't I what? Just say it." He let too much aggression slip as he tried again to make the bolt just fucking move. Fucking Hell, he was moments away from just wrenching the whole lot off and calling it a day. Support frame be damned he wasn't dealing with this for much longer.

"Dangerous. Like the other Dragoons."

Immediately tension locks his hands into place, wrench handle digging into his palm. Ice pours into his veins as if the sun decided it wasn't summer anymore and slipped right into winter. Wide eyes glance towards where you sat, frantic, "What."

If his bark affected you there was no way he could tell from where he sat. Your boots shuffled against the crate, steel lined heels clacking together, “You have the Dragon Install, which is a Dragoon ability. The marks on your neck are a dead give away, too. You're also stubborn, short tempered, and itching for a fight at a moments notice. Just like one of them.” Each finger he heard you flick out made his shoulders flinch almost imperceptibly to you, but for him he felt each one like a tick of a clock.

A self conscious hand left the wrench to brush along the stripes decorating the sides of his neck and throat, normally covered by the jacket's collar. The jacket he had stupidly tossed aside so he could drag himself underneath his project without worry. Right.

Fuck him.

He forced his hand back onto the wrench. Change topic, change topic, ”Dragoons are assholes that can't keep their heads on long enough to hold a conversation. Mostly they're known for their rampant destruction of a lot of big cities.“ Frantic he scanned around for something, anything to busy his other hand with so you wouldn't notice his pause-or at least hopefully, you'd brush it off and move on like he did, ”You did go to school at one point right.“ The question wasn't as smooth as he wanted it to be but it would have to do as he rummaged in the junk next to him.

You picked up the topic change. He knew you did. The sudden lurch forwards was perfectly aligned with the indignant scowl you always gave him when he prodded at your intelligence ”Hey I was homeschooled, asshole. I know enough.“

A little huff pulled the corner of his mouth, "Ya sure about that? I remember having to tell you about the older generations of that tech menace you call a phone." Pliers found his hand and lifted out of the mess on the floor. Without thinking too much on it he clasped the teeth around the wrench's handle.

"And? I didn;t take tech classes in college, along with half the population in the city." Your shadow waves away the comment and sweeps towards the door well out of his line of sight.

He leers at your image, grip tightening as he pushed, "You. College. Really."

"Yes really, jackass. I did manage to get in like every other half-baked professional we work with."

”Not to get anything better than a-“ Metal snapped much too loudly and right into his face, ”FUCK-! Shit….dammit.“ The bitter taste of now twisted steel bit at his tongue as the flecks scattered onto the garage floor beneath him. Even the wrench flung itself away as if to escape blame while it clattered along the floor.

”You good down there?“

”Yeah..Just fucked it up.“ He brushed the metal off his face as best he could, though a faint sting laced his eyes, ”Nothing new down here. Old piece of shit still has it out for me.“ With a scowl towards the skeletal frame braced above him he assessed the damage.

While the frame had been scraped bad, nothing was too out of order. The bolt's remains fell out of the socket with a tug from the pliers still in his hand, a mangled mess of threaded steel reduced to just a nub. He didn't really care where the rest of it went-with his luck it exploded from the force he exherted, which was fantastic. With the exhaust pipe in the other hand he shoved it up further under the chasis until it braced onto the floor over his head-not an ideal place for it, granted, as it could twist up the metal in some way, but it was better than on him or lost in the mess that was this garage's floor.

But it was your snickering that made him shove against his bike's suspended frame, the cart’s wheels rattling beneath him as he looked at you with a deep frown, ”Shut the Hell up, asshole.“ Slowly sitting up he scrubbed his very likely grease covered fingers over his eyes, probably smearing black over his face in the process, ”You don't even care that I got metal in my eyes, do you?”

You just grinned at him, leather jacket squeaking as you shrugged, “Nah, I know you're fine. Not like I haven't seen you deal with worse.” Your gaze stays on him even though he gives you a glare, narrowing onto that smug little tilt of your lips for a bit too long while you go back to picking at the peeling patch on your arm.

He grunts, getting up from the cart, “Ya sure about that, runt? Could have got a real big shard in my eye and you would be laughing about it. Real mature of you to make fun of me while I could be bleeding on the floor.” Damn, his neck ached. Granted he was laying down for longer than normal, but it rarely got this bad. It pulled on his shoulders while he rested a hand over the knot at the base of his neck and tugged hard-the nice pop rolling through his spine deeply satisfying.

“But you wouldn't because Dragoons don't get hurt that easily.”

He huffed, long and loud. Again with that. “I told you, I;m not a Dragoon.” Dropping the bolt into the scrap pile he starts digging into the drawers of a donated file cabinet that was being filled with anything but, “I'm not a mindless freak like they are.”

Perhaps you felt merciful today because once his sharp retort left him you fell silent. A small victory. Unfortunately the natural desire to ignore the current problem now left him painfully aware of just how bad he’d let this borrowed garage get. The file cabinet was the oldest piece he had-a surprising feat, as the building was at least a few decades- filled with more rust than whatever he had that had spent too much time lying around on the floor and needed a place to be stuffed into. And it's convenience was also the problem-there was more than just spare bolts in this thing. It was practically bursting with random crap he didn’t need when he had it but didn’t want to deal with. It was less an organization method and more a way to ignore the mess.

And clearly, an excuse not to continue the topic.

He'd never admit to the unease roiling in his gut. Waiting was not his thing-neither was digging through old crap in the waning hope you'd drop the idea niggling in your head for something he wanted to be bothered by.

”So.“

But you were, in fact, the most stubborn human being he's ever met.

He sighed, rolling his head back behind his shoulders, “What now.” He grumbled, hand still halfway into a new drawer.

“I'm getting to it, jerk, give me a second” Again he snorted as you huffed. But when you weren't immediately going down another one of your common rantings about the king you both worked under-which would be a blessing in this case, he'd take anything else right now-he grew wary.

Yet you continued.

”I know of the dragons. Big ugly things that come from the rifts to the Otherside, some unknown dimension parallel to our own where it's similar but wrong in a way.” Your boots tamp onto the concrete as you hop off the crate, ”People think that humans were there once from relics, but it;s possible the dragons either ate them all or did something to get rid of them.“ Steps clunk across the garage floor as you approached slowly, almost cautiously, “I know you're not a dragon. That much is obvious." He rolled his eyes, "You've also stated that you're not a Dragoon, but you have a lot of similar abilities that Dragoons have-short temper, brash personality, preference towards destruction and the like.” His ears twitch at each finger you flick out, repeating the count you’d made before, “Yet at the same time you have control over your rage. Instead of reaping havoc, you direct it, almost like a gun, towards whoever you're fighting. In fact I don't think I've ever seen you get super angry at anything that isn’t that hunk of junk you call a project over there.” Air swishes, like you'd tossed a thumb over your shoulder.

He’s frozen in place, staring blankly at the cabinet. It’s all too much. How had he not noticed how closely you were paying attention. How well you’d been watching his every move-sure, he couldn’t exactly call you a slacker, but you’d rarely made it feel like you were a threat.

And yet he should have. It was written in your title, your name.

Hunter. Dragon Killer.

Harmless wasn’t in the job description.

But…could he really call you dangerous? Yes, you’d read out his failed cover up like a book on a shelf, but it wasn’t with malice or even disappointment. Though you sounded a bit exasperated, it wasn’t what stood out-just a backdrop to something softer, lighter despite the weight of them. Something almost like…

Curiosity.

“So my question is, if you're not a dragon, or even a Dragoon, then…” A subtle shift of your hair as if  you’d tilted your head makes his breath catch in his chest, ”..What are you?“

The words are there. They stick in his throat like honey-sweet, sickly so, a coat of lies he could use to cover the whole truth and hide it away before it's ever known. He could speak them now, cover his back and run away again.

But he can't. He's already gone too far. Said too much, let you in too soon. If he backed out now, it would only make it worse for the both of you. In his eyes, there’s two ways this can go. Either you get it from him, or you take the unbelievably stupid risk of finding someone else to answer-neither of which are on his good list of ideas.

Well, at least one was a definite no-go. The other not so much, but he couldn't guarantee how flaky he could get.

Instead he sighs. Air hotter than the setting sun boils against his lips, what little condensation a desert could procure steaming away before his face in a puff. With a collecting breath he turns, face carefully neutral. The aged black shirt stretches to accommodate the tight cords of muscle as he crosses his arms, workbench creaking as he leans back against it.

Looking you in the eye he forces the words to leave his lips, ”A Drago.“

He sees the gears in your head working. Little flicks of confusion as you glance about, unsure whether to maintain his intense stare or gather information yourself by whatever he'd hung up on the walls. But the garage's scattered remnants of memorabilia wouldn't elaborate on his words, thus forcing you to turn back to him. And with a soft swallow, you ask the words he didn't want to answer yet knew he had to, ”…What's a Drago.“

And here it would fall apart.

”A dragon turned human.“