#I'm still sorta getting used to this 'answering asks' thing

[facility-of-tartugan-technology]

I gotta know in the story: who's idea was it to have the turtles eat them. Like what person was like "I know a way we can regulate their body heat... but hear me out" or was it just the turtles having that same instinctual fog Dee had in the first chapter where's it's just "don't talk or explain just **nom**" and they kinda figured it out from there

I imagine it started as a "bad habit" that they were like "ok it's harmless but they can't keep doing it" until the realized the benefits

Ah yes! Well, they actually discovered a while ago that having someone tucked away helps keep the turtles warm, as way back when Mikey was but a large baby turtle boi with no sense of what not to shove into his mouth, he swallowed April. When he was old enough to talk and is asked about it, he described that having April in his tummy felt warm, which is echoed by the other turtle bros after they first nom April. That's pretty much how Splinter and April came to the conclusion that person + turtle tummy = turtle warm XD

[the-blazing-light]

We corner Arengar for an interview so! What did you think of trying out some new styles! Anything you might try in the future? (Ahem I hope I am not a bother but I wanted to hear his opinion from the man himself after the exchange)

Giant pale charr chuckles awkwardly at the question, thinking for a second and brushing his claws through his cheek fur before speaking up:

"Well, Horncleaver's armor is close enough to what I used to wear back in Blood Legion, it wasn't too offputting. Pythus' armor, though, if you can even call it armor, hmm." - he ponders, trying to pick the right words - "Too... Revealing for my taste. I mean, I'd love to be protected in a fight, and this outfit provides... Very little defence."

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Chapter 5 - Wouldn't It Be Nice?

<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, John introduces Doll to some normal people, Everyone learns new things about each other, Manipulation, PTSD, Doll has a tragic backstory, Doll is kinda sorta Catholic? Who knew (me I knew)

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above but honestly this chapter is pretty mild all considered.

Ghost, Soap and Gaz come back a few hours later with the blue sports car (a bit scratched up, but tail-light repaired) and a pick up truck that looks a lot like the one John had before, but a generation older, and green instead of gray. John speaks to them briefly before he coaxes you into the truck and drives off, promising that the others will be gone before you get back.

He drives a few miles down the road, and pulls up in front of a little farmhouse. It looks idyllic, children and a dog playing in the yard. Two people on the porch wave, and John hops out and circles around right quick to open your door and help you down.

The couple trots up to greet you both. "Who's this?" The woman asks, looking at you and beaming. "You finally introducing us to a girlfriend?"

"Doesn't feel like the right word, does it, doll?" John winks at you, like your circumstances are all just a funny little blip, nothing nefarious or terrifying about it.

"No, it doesn't," you agree, keeping your face carefully neutral. "I'm Dalisay. Nice to meet you, um, Melissa, right?" You stick your hand out and shake hers. There’s no sense in being rude to them, just because they know John. He’s probably smart enough to keep his old life, and his boys away from his new one as much as possible.

"The very same! We were a bit worried John was going to be an eternal bachelor. Nice to see he's found someone." She introduces her husband, Rob, and her kids, Hannah, Haley and Jackson, who are ten, seven and five, respectively.

"Do you want to see the puppies?" Haley asks, grabbing your hand. Jackson grabs the other one and they pull you along to the garage, not waiting for an answer. You very deliberately don’t look over your shoulder at John, because you’re fairly sure that he’ll be looking back at you with a sickeningly hopeful expression. His comments from last night still ring in your ears, and you’re not willing to indulge that foolish fantasy of his.

The puppies are in a play pen with high enough walls to contain them, but still allow their mother to hop in and out. She hops out to inspect you, sniffing your outstretched hands warily. Her tail starts to wag after a moment, and you give her a proper pat, smiling. The dog has soft ears and a silky, black and tan coat, but you're not sure what type of dog she is.

"What's her name?" you ask, kneeling down.

"Bonnie-bell," Hannah says. "And our other dog is Charaid."

"Proper Scottish names," you say. The kids all have a slight burr, and although Melissa sounds scouse, it's the first hint as to where you are.

"Da said we was gettin' too English, livin' in London," Haley says. "I like it better here anyway. Mum says maybe we can get some coos. "

"I grew up near Aberdeen," you say. "But I've lived in Manchester too long. Lost my accent."

"No' far off, then, aye? We're only about an hour and a bit south and west," Rob says, appearing at the open garage door to supervise. His stern face looks friendlier now that he knows you're not proper English. "Was worried John dragged some poor city girl out'f England to live out here."

You hum. "Well, I am something of a city girl now. Been in Manchester since I was seventeen."

"Weel, welcome home then," Rob says with a wink. "We'll get ye proper re-acclimated soon enough." He leans over and plucks a puppy out of the sleeping pile inside the pen, and hands it to you. The pup is at the age where its somewhere between looking like a potato and a proper dog, maybe six or seven weeks old. "Gordon setter, by the by," he says. "Good dogs."

"Cute too." You settle the puppy in your lap, petting its soft little head. Bonnie-bell licks your wrist and hops back into the pen to lay down next to the others.

"Ye want one? This girl's no' spoken for yet. John's been hemmin' and hawin' about it, but I figure he wouldna want ta leave ye home alone, neither."

"Oh, I'm not sure I'll be staying that long. I'm only here because there was an incident at my apartment and John wouldn't hear of me staying anywhere else." You're not certain why you're stretching the truth to fit around what he and his wife think is happening, but you have no idea what John would do if you did say something. Maybe he would laugh it off like you were making a joke, or maybe he would snap. You don't really think he would hurt these people, but there's a wide-eyed prey animal in the back of your mind that warns you to be cautious, to be careful.

"We'll talk about it," John says from behind you. You hadn't even noticed his approach, with the noise the kids had made when they dashed back outside. "I'm trying to convince her to stay."

"Ye've gotta buy her a ring, ye daft bastard," Rob says, laughing. "A good catholic girl isna goin' ta wait for you ta get yer head out'f yer arse."

"If you don't, I'll introduce her to some lads in town that will," Melissa threatens. "Pretty girl like her has better options than you, old man. Better make your move before she realizes it." She swats John on the arm playfully.

You laugh nervously, touching the little cross around your neck absently. The puppy in your lap seems to sense your discomfort, because she starts wiggling in your arms and trying to lick your chin, little tail wagging. John kneels down beside you so he can pet the puppy too, eyes creased with a smile. "Is that it, doll? You need me to buy you a ring?"

"John," you say warningly. "We don't need to talk about this right now."

"No, I suppose you've had a rough morning. I'll try again later."

"You're impossible."

"Think you might kind of like that about me," he says.

"Not remotely. I think you're an awful, stubborn man," you tell him. Your voice comes out softer and sweeter than you intend, like you don't really mean it, even though it's true. The smile around his eyes grows deeper.

"I am." He picks up the puppy and holds her up in front of his face. "What do you think, girl?" he asks. The little dog's tail wags furiously, and she answers with a high pitched yip. And then she endears herself to you by trying to bite John’s nose. He looks stunned for a moment, but he grins when you start laughing. “Guess we’re all in agreement then,” he says, setting her down in the pen and standing up.

You accept his hand up, and quickly put a little distance between the two of you, before he anchors you to his side with a solid arm, or tries to reel you in close for a kiss. Rob and Melissa invite you in for a cup of tea, and somehow you end up sitting at a dining room table that’s obviously mostly used for crafts, and handed a piece of blank printer paper by Haley, and told by Jackson that you should draw dragons with them. The walls of the dining room are filled with tacked up juvenile masterpieces— Dragons seem to be a particular fixation of Jackson’s, whereas Hannah and Haley have more varied portfolios.

John stands leaning in the door to the kitchen, talking to Rob and Melissa quietly enough that you can’t quite pick up his words over the children’s chatter. You hate him a little for this, dangling Rob and Melissa’s idyllic little life in front of you. The implication is obvious. We could have this, his blue eyes seem to say when you look his way. Wouldn’t that be nice?

It’s frustrating, and confusing. You want to keep him at arms length for your own safety, but he’s already doing his best to roll right past your doubts and better judgment, like they’re just silly barriers between now and the future he’s dreamed up for the two of you.

And worse, you do want it.

“Didn’t know you were an artist,” he says on the drive back. Jackson had been so excited about the dragon that you drew for him that he’d shown his parents and John.

“There’s a long list of things you don’t know about me,” you say.

"For now. We'll get there, sweetheart."

You hum, looking out the window. Spending time with the Stuarts has you wistful and homesick for something you can't get back. Days like this, you'd usually pour yourself a glass of wine, look through your family photo albums and have a good cry before going to bed early. It's been a while since it's caught up with you like this, but you'd always been reliant on your routine, burying grief in structure and familiarity. "Do we need to?"

"I'd like to."

"I'm not going to be what you want me to be."

John drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "What is it that you think I want?"

"Some little housewife. Someone soft and sweet to come home to."

"You seem plenty soft and sweet to me."

You sigh, pulling your arms around yourself. "I'm not consistent. I don't know what Johnny told you I was like, but he only knows me from work. I'm not like that all the time."

"I don't expect you to be."

"You say that now, but you'll change your mind."

"I'm not stupid enough to change my mind based on a bad day or two, doll. You're allowed to be upset. I wouldn't blame you if you spend the next week slamming doors and snapping at me. I'm still going to like you." He puts a hand on your knee and squeezes gently. Men like him shouldn't be allowed to have such attractive hands, and you shouldn't be attracted to hands like his, scarred knuckles, a few fingers broken and healed crooked. You know he's killed people, know it would be so easy for him to kill you. It turns your stomach that you feel any kind of desire for him at all.

Men like him are no different than the ones that killed your parents. Dealing death is not a noble trade, there's nothing honourable about exporting violence.

You push his hand away, and keep your eyes trained on the window.

He sighs, but he doesn't press the issue, just clicks on the radio to fill the silence.

When you get back to his house he sets you up in a cozy room down the hall from the more open main space where the kitchen is, an office of some kind with a couple of arm chairs and a desk with a clunky looking laptop set on top. The room smells kind of smoky, but you're just glad to have a door you can close while he "moves some things around". He opens the laptop up so you can watch something, but you just curl up in one of the armchairs and fall asleep.

When you wake, the door is open, one of your blankets is draped over you, and there's a mug of tea sitting on the desk, alongside a couple biscuits. You uncurl, your muscles stiff and joints cracking from not moving for too long, and pick up the tea. It's cold, like it had been left a while ago, but you drink it anyway, and eat the biscuits. There's a note underneath, explaining that John had run out to the shops, and that he'd be back by 18:00. You shake your head, and check the time on the laptop. 18:00 exactly.

Military habits must die hard. You imagine he’s usually prompt too, so you wander out into the main room, and put the clean dishes in the rack away. You realize that the living room side has been rearranged, condensed to a slightly smaller footprint, with some open space left by the far corner behind the bigger couch. The smaller leather sofa has been replaced with the little red love-seat from your apartment, and your T.V. is sitting on it’s familiar perch on the refinished credenza that you’d painted twining vines and little red flowers up the side of. You’d found it on by the curb on the Kinsey’s street a few years ago, and your friend Ripley had bused over and helped you carry it all the way back to your apartment.

You’re not sure you like seeing more of your things merging into John’s house, like any of it belongs there when you still want to insist that you’ll be leaving soon. You hate him for being presumptuous, but you can’t help but think it’s sweet, too, that he makes space for you so readily, that he’ll happily include your painted flowers and colourful blankets and bright red couch into space that was all his just twenty four hours ago. That he would leave you tea and biscuits for when you woke up, that he would tuck a blanket around you while you slept. You’re not used to someone wanting to take care of you, and it feels strange.

Strange, but nice too.

You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing that it’s twenty past six, and John still isn’t back. It’s getting darker out there, the sun nearly setting, and as much as you try to tell yourself that you’re not worried, it’s hard to deny the stab of relief when you finally see the truck's lights pull up the wooded drive.

You slip on your trainers and step outside as he parks. He grins at you around a lit cigar as he hops out. “Did you miss me, doll?” he asks, insufferably smug.

“Your note said you’d be back at six,” you say lamely. “I just wasn’t sure if you’re usually on time.”

“Usually am. Got caught talking to Wells, down on the corner. Seems someone drove right through his fence last night. Teenagers, like as not. I’m goin’ to help him fix it tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You grimace. He must know it was really you. “Sorry about that.”

“No harm. By the sounds of it, you’re quite the driver. Soap said you nearly ran him off the road. That what they teach these days?”

“Defensive driving is well and good, but offensive driving gets you the last good spot in the lot,” you say.

He laughs out loud at that, and leans over to pick up a big paper bag from the passenger side. “Here, can you take this in while I grab the groceries?”

You take the bag (which is slightly greasy and smells like curry), and shift it to one hip. “Can I take anything else?”

He nods and hands you a second paper bag, this one with two wine bottles inside. “Wasn’t sure if you liked red or white, so I got both.”

You settle the bags in your arms and turn to walk away. “Bad time to tell you I like rosé hm?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder.

“Terrible timing. But that’s alright. One more thing, doll.”

You turn back toward him, and he’s right there. One big hand cups your jaw and then his lips are on yours, pressing a kiss that tastes like smoke against you. You stand frozen, holding onto your cargo for dear life, too surprised to do anything. It’s just as well, because in that moment you’re not sure if you’d slap him or pull him closer.

He pulls away without trying to deepen the kiss, which is a relief. You’re certain that you’d drop dinner and the wine.

“John, that wasn’t fair.” Your feet are still frozen in place, and his hand is still on your cheek, his fingers threaded into your hair.

His eyes practically sparkle. He’s entirely too pleased with himself. “Not fair because I kissed you, or not fair because I stopped before we got to the best part?”

Your cheeks flame hot, and you pray that he can’t feel it. “You can’t just— You’re impossible.” It takes concentrated effort to take ordinary, measured steps to the door instead of running. The effect he has on you is apparently very obvious. He never would have tried it if he didn’t know you were teetering on the edge of giving in already.

Boundaries need to be set-- Set and followed-- before you can really even contemplate letting this get any further. Unchecked, you have no doubt that John will have you underneath him in a matter of days. Once that happens you know he'll never let you go, and you'll never have peace of mind if you don't really get to know him first. You know he's not as good as he makes himself out to be, but you suspect he's a better man than your deepest fears might whisper to you. He's genuine about his wants, but that's not enough. You need to know him before you can trust him.

You set your packages down on the table and turn to open the door wide for John as he carries a tote full of groceries into the house. “Thanks, doll.”

The paper bag rips when you open it to pull take-out containers out, setting them on the table neatly. "John, can we talk?" You ask, glancing at him as he stows things in the fridge.

"Course, doll. What's on your mind?"

Nerves threaten to choke you, so you take a steadying breath, in and out, trying to quiet the sea of dread that pitches back and forth in your stomach. “You can’t just take what you want from me. Not if you’re serious about wanting this to be something. I’m afraid of you, John, and I’m not going to fight you. If you push me, I’ll fold, and I’ll hate you for it.”

He pauses, holding a box halfway lifted to the cupboard. It takes a moment before he moves again, setting the box on the shelf slowly. The silence is palpable in the room, settling across both of you like a thick blanket of snow. You fold the ripped takeout bag flat, nervous, the crinkle of heavy paper hardly breaking through the rush of blood in your ears, the panic that grips you by the throat. It’s as though the admission has given your body the chance to catch up with everything that’s happened in the last two days.

You’d been drugged and taken from your home, you’d been handed off to someone you didn’t know, with no clear indication if you’re free to leave or not, you’ve been picked up and manhandled and shot at.

Darkness flickers in the corners of your vision. All you can hear is the pounding of your own heart, the sick, dizzying drums of war, and high pitched ringing like a flat-lining hospital monitor, and screaming, and the rapid burst of machine gun fire. No. The screaming you hear is just in your head, the gunshots aren’t real, they can’t be. It’s not happening, it’s over, it’s been over for a decade, you’re safe.

Except you’re not safe.

Hands land on your shoulders. You lash out, fists striking something solid, knocking the hands away. You have to get away, you have to hide until it goes quiet again. Arms wrap around you in a tight hug, stilling your thrashing limbs and bringing you down to the floor gently.

“Doll! Dalisay, sweetheart, you’re alright, come back.” The voice has authority. You know that voice. It rumbles, shaking loose memory. “Come on, love, breathe slow. You’re okay.” You breathe in, warm spice and tobacco smoke, not burning petrol, not scorched flesh. You’re kneeling on the floor, and John is holding you tight, thighs bracketing yours.

The fight melts out of your limbs.

You’re not safe, but you’re not in danger either. John loosens his hold on you and cups your face, his worried face eclipsing all else. “Doll, where’d you go?” he asks. “What happened?”

“Panic attack,” you lie, because that’s easier to say than My parents were killed in a terrorist attack while we were visiting London ten years ago and sometimes I get so stressed out that I forget it’s not still happening. “I’m fine, I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t a panic attack, doll. Worked with Simon long enough to recognize PTSD. You were somewhere else.”

It’s hard to imagine that Ghost is as fallible, as human as you are, but you suppose there’s no shortage of opportunities for even the the biggest, toughest military men to to wade hip deep in trauma. The worst day of your life would be just another mission for them. The worst day of their lives would probably kill you outright.

"Yeah, I guess it was," you admit haltingly. "Everything just caught up with me. I won't let it happen again."

He shakes his head. "Did I set it off? I need to know— I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

"No, it's not like that. It’s just stress. It's been building since I got here."

"I guess that's what you meant in the truck, huh?"

You nod weakly. "I don't think I can explain it any better right now. But maybe tomorrow."

"Alright." John sighs, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing. " I don't want you to be afraid of me, doll."

"Then you're going to have to give me time, and space. I need to know what kind of man you are. And you should get to know who I am too.” There’s a wrinkle in his shirt, so you fixate on that rather than look right at him, smoothing it out with your fingers. “Let’s worry about becoming friends, for now. And then we can see if there’s something more.”

He doesn’t like that, you can tell by the way he pulls his hands back, reluctant to let go of you. But still, he nods, and smiles ruefully after a moment. “Guess I’m not as patient as I think I am. Too eager to get to the good part.”

You laugh lightly, the sound shaky from frayed nerves. “John, if we can be kind to each other, and come to an understanding, then it’s all the good part. You can’t build the things you want on foundations like this and hold it all together with sheer force of will.”

“You sure about that?" he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve heard I’m pretty stubborn.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his. You still feel unsettled, your heart still pounding, your stomach still roiling with anxiety. The emotion in those blue eyes is something you can't identify, something fathomless that strikes you with a foreign kind of fear, the kind that's shot through with hope that you shouldn't feel.

“You don’t know me too well yet, John,” you say gently, “but so am I.”

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[erdasmcnonsense]

"Say... has Joe always had those colorful floaty eye-thingies around his head?" Scar asks, absentmindedly stroking the fletchings of an arrow.

"I don't think so?" answers Grian, perched on the railing of the HotGuy Tower. "You hear that clinking of chains around him more often these days, too."

The two are silent for a moment, watching Joe play Beef's card game with Cleo. Even from this distance, they can occasionally catch a flash of color from one of the little floating eyes near him.

"Why do you think that is?"

"I think it's Them", Grian says.

"What do you mean "Them"?"

"Eh, you know. Just Them. You know what I mean, right? They can change us, sometimes. Haven't you noticed?"

"I really don't get what you're talking about."

"I wasn't like this-" for a moment Grian is surrounded by a soft purple glow and a halo of eyes, not in all colors of rainbow like Joe's, but purple like the light around him "-before They decided I was, either."

"But I thought that was the Watcher thing?"

"I mean, it sorta was. But it wasn't. I wasn't like this when I first became a Watcher. This happened when They decided that's what Watchers are like."

"Joe's not a Watcher, though, is he?" asks Scar, frowning.

"Nah, he's Something Else."

"You know, it's weird, but recently I've felt like something's changed", Scar says. "Like I don't know what, but something's different. Dreams of like, arenas and fighting people, some of them ones I've never even met. And it's like there's thousands of voices in the back of my head, cheering me on. It's very distracting."

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean."

"Is that Them too?"

"Probably. Almost definitely, actually."

"I feel like I'm sort of racing, competing with Joe, and I'm not even sure what it's about."

"Yeah, that's Them playing games. You don't have to pay too much attention to it, if you don't want to. It might not be a good idea, anyway. Sometimes They like attention, and then sometimes they run and scatter and hide if you give Them any, and you never know what it'll be this time." Grian shrugs. "The good news is though, if Joe has changed because of Their game, he might change back once it's over or They get bored of the game."

"Might?"

"Yeah, might. Or it might stick. They're fickle creatures, it's hard to tell beforehand."

"You know an awful lot about them", Scar points out.

"That's because They used to be Watchers. Until They decided They weren't, but I still was, and made Watchers be something else instead and became not-Watchers."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"You're right. It doesn't. I think that's how They like it."

Before Scar can ask more questions, Grian spreads his wings and takes off.

[hermitscratch]

Joel & Etho - 21, for the writing ? :3

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

21. A kiss to shut them up, Joel/Etho, 957 words

[ Inspired in part by this lovely artwork by @plumadot ! ]

"So I've got a theory," Joel started.

It was a nice day; temperate in a way that heralded the approaching warm season. A lot of hermits were taking advantage of it to check the things off their to-do lists that weren't easily done in cold or wet weather. Etho had broken off from the others for just that purpose, but as soon as he mentioned needing coral, Joel invited himself along.

Which meant a return to form in the shape of them, once again, sharing a boat.

"Do I have to listen to your theory?" Etho asked. The answer didn't matter much when he was a captive audience, but their conversations up until this point had been general, casual nonsense. How they spent their morning, how they liked their steak cooked, what ore they'd most be willing to eat. Time killers at worst, amusement at best.

Joel scoffed. "Don't act like you don't want to know what I'm thinking," Etho felt an elbow land against his ribs without any real force. It might have been rougher, if they weren't currently faced away from each other. Joel liked watching the wake the boat left behind, so they were pressed back-to-back. "It's about your obsession."

"My obsession? Don't you mean yours?" He retorted. Joel snorted, and Etho could imagine the smug grin that'd be accompanying it.

"This projection is getting embarrassing, Etho," Joel said with thinly veiled glee.

Etho rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Just tell me about your theory," He said through a chuckle.

From behind him, Joel wiggled like he was trying to look over his shoulder. The boat rocked hard to the left, and Joel stilled before crowing, "I knew you wanted to know!"

Etho stopped rowing to peer over the boat's edge. The ocean here was deep, illuminated only faintly by magma pockets and the occasional rogue glow squid. They'd made a lot of headway, but there was still a ways to go to reach an untouched reef. "I wonder if I could swim back to shore from here..."

"I'll push you overboard myself if you don't let me get a blummin' word out," Joel griped, even as he fisted a hand in the back of Etho's shirt. It wouldn't do much if Etho decided to move, but the idea that Joel might want him to stay was more than enough for Etho to do so.

Not that Etho would ever tell him that; his ex-soulmate's ego was big enough.

"You're the one stopping, though?" Etho answered, rebalancing the boat and adjusting the oars to continue rowing. Joel's inhale was audible, and before he could argue, Etho urged, "Let's hear your theory."

Joel crossed his arms with a huff. Etho grinned. Joel was probably pouting and everything. "D'you remember what Gem said this morning?"

"Hmm," Etho had to think the question through. They'd been hanging out with Gem, Impulse, and Scar that morning, a lot of things were said. "Mmmmaybe?"

After a few minutes of fruitless sifting through snippets of conversation that Joel might have found noteworthy, he threw Etho a bone. "When we were arguing about who built a better cherry tree, still me by the way, she said-"

Ah. "'Just kiss already', or something?" Etho offered.

Joel clapped once, "Exactly."

Etho laughed, pitching his voice up in a mockery of Joel's, "Oh no, I'm not obsessed, I'm just chasing him making smoochy sounds and thinking a lot about Gem telling us to kiss-"

"That first thing was literally your fault!" Joel argued, "And I'm not thinking about it, alright? There's nothing to think about, it's just a thing that is!"

"What is?"

Joel seemed to shrink, curling forward so their backs were no longer touching. "If we kissed, the world would sorta collapse, wouldn't it?"

Etho stopped so abruptly that he almost dropped an oar. What? "Uh. No?"

"Of course you'd say so, it's stupid how bad you wanna kiss me," Joel scoffed. The turn in conversation was so jarring that Etho didn't even argue the point about wanting to kiss Joel. "But the stir it'd cause would be massive. Gem would explode. Bdubs would probably explode, maybe Grian? Scar and Skizz, definitely, we'd never hear the end of it."

Etho locked the oars and turned around in his seat. If Joel noticed, he gave no indication, plowing relentlessly forward as if he'd realized there was no going back now that he'd started. Etho recognized that habit from their time together in Double Life- an anxious Joel with no other outlet would ramble himself breathless.

"Your mask as well," Joel continued, "Nobody's seen you without it-"

Etho tugged his mask down.

"-that's probably grounds for server obliteration in itself-"

He put a hand on Joel's shoulder.

"-if the first time anybody saw your face was for a kiss like that, then-"

He turned Joel to face him.

And before Joel could say another word, Etho kissed him.

Silence. Bliss. Etho's lips were dry from the mask, and he kept the press of them soft until he felt Joel's stiff body melt, meeting Etho's lean halfway. He tilted his head, and he could feel the flutter of long lashes against his face as Joel's eyes shut. The world kept turning, and Etho let it, stealing a moment just for them.

It only ended when Etho pulled away, leaving a dazed Joel to process what had just happened. Etho didn't bother putting his mask back up when he grinned. "Still alive?"

"Wh- y-?" Joel floundered. Etho chuckled, and Joel scowled, even as a dusty blush painted his cheeks pink. Even as he turned to face Etho properly, dropping his head against Etho's shoulder. Even as Etho felt lips against his racing pulse.

"Oh, shut up, Etho."

[pedgito]

MILLER'S GIRL ✎ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Four: Under Your Skin

Chapter Summary: An implosion that changes everything, leaving results devastating but unseen. [5k]

[student/teacher relationship, age gap, no outbreak, power dynamic]

Chapter Warnings: fem!reader, professor!joel miller, inappropriate behavior, reader is delusional lol, background tess/joel (mentions of infidelity), technical infidelity on joel's behalf, unprotected piv, f!oral, angry sex, lack of aftercare, belt as restraints, inappropriate use of a tie & desk, semi-public sex (sorta), angst at the end i'm sorry.

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There’s a deep ache in your body and between your legs as you toss in bed that morning, rousing from a less than relaxing sleep, the faint smell of Joel still lingering on the clothes you fell asleep in, not bothering to change. Licking at chapped lips he’d kissed you so feverishly the night before, you recollect the night in flashes, rubbing sleep from your eyes and feeling riddled with anxiety. 

You reach for your phone blindly, stuffed under your covers as you scroll through your phone, expecting some type of change—an updated grade, a note or two on your follow-up essay. But, there’s nothing. The big, glaring fucking zero staring you back in the face. And for a moment, you feel guilty. You wonder just how badly you screwed things up by doubling down and approaching him so boldly in his office. In his space.

You threatened him and he attacked. Not you.

You never intended for things to unfold the way they did, but you wanted to get your feelings across clearly, even if that meant getting under his skin. 

Joel. Not Mr. Miller. 

Those were two entirely different entities now.

You take your morning slow, enjoying the relaxation of the weekend and taking your time—researching and looking into things you definitely should not be. First, it’s his name. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t bring up much. His job history was fairly public, no local or national awards, nothing note-worthy and only a few small non-fiction pieces to his name, though you knew there were more—there had to be. With his taste in poetry and fiction you expected something, but came up with nothing. He’s so inexplicably boring to the naked eye and maybe that’s what he wanted. He wanted to blend and disappear.

Curiously, you do more digging on his wife. Who—yeah, it was definitely his wife. A few links later and you stumble upon the marriage certificate, nearly ten years strong. No kids, either.

It was impressive, more than what a lot of people could be prideful about. But Joel, he wasn’t prideful about Tess. He was secretive, dismissive, and shot a look of disgust at his phone every time he received a text, whether purposefully or not.

You find that she works at a law firm, relatively small and headed by two partners. One significantly older than the other—father and son? You squint slightly, searching through the website carefully but not coming up with much. She was a lawyer, that much was obvious.

Still, it didn’t explain the rift. 

What happened?

You try and struggle to find anything rational or tangible, feeling like you might drive yourself insane trying to find out and you spend most of the weekend trudging through the obscurity of things you could find online, very little compared to what you could find out by just asking him.

There’s a tinge of dread in attending class that Monday knowing that no matter how hard you tried, Mr. Miller would never see you the same. He wouldn’t treat you as he had, pedestaling you up above the rest and, though he’d never admit openly, admiring you.

But, god, it ails you. Sickens your mind and keeps you from focusing on anything else.

You needed more answers, more clarification. But, more importantly, you still needed him.

That deep, gnawing feeling of desire in your gut had only grown stronger since your encounter in his office and you feared—knew, it would only worsen as time went on.

-

Joel knew that night that he needed to follow through on his plans.

His lack of trust in Tess, his instability in his life now, and how he couldn’t get you out of his head. The three were a volatile mix and he knew if he didn’t start somewhere that things would quickly grow out of control.

He makes the call to his lawyer the following morning, hungover and tired. Nursing a headache in his open palm as he conversed quietly over the phone. Tess was home, far off and distant in another room but he can hear her shifting around, moving about, and he feels like he’s betraying her. He doesn’t know why he’s filled with guilt and shame—maybe that was partly because of you, his willingness to cross that line for just a moment and kiss you.

It was a momentary slip, his want clouding out his sense of rationality.

You were conniving and manipulative, using his own selfish thoughts against him, his eagerness to aid you in your progress but also allowed a level of vulnerability between you both. Joel should’ve known, he should’ve seen it in the way you looked at him. 

It was admiration and obsession and he fed into it. 

It was something he never had, not even with Tess.

He loved her, sure. Cared about her, absolutely. But the physical connection—sexual or not, had never truly been there. And Joel figures that was why she did what she did, despite how badly it hurt him. He felt at fault for a while, like he had caused it. 

Maybe he did—but he would never have betrayed Tess like she did so easily, even if she swore it meant nothing at the time. Late nights for her were fickle, but they still happened. And that’s when Joel allowed the doubt to seep in and eat away.

But, he just couldn’t do it anymore. He felt like an intruder in his own home.

Tess would be served the papers on Monday evening and Joel would face the wrath when he arrived home, but there was still time. Time to prepare and settle, commit through his day and do his job, even if you lingered in his peripheral as class went on.

Your lack of reaction and response to his unchangingness of your grade gives him a false sign of relief—had you finally moved on from the idea? Joel was clueless to how preoccupied you actually were, chewing on the end of a pen as you sifted through tabs as he droned on at the front of class. Discussion days were always long and dreadful, and as most of the class was discussing the troubled assignment Mr. Miller had given you the week prior, your silence was…required. He avoided you like the plague and you were thankful, to some degree.

Still filled with frustration and simmering rage, you can’t ignore how despite everything—Joel still glances your way. And where his looks before were restrained, subtle and less driven…these were not. Like he was replaying the events in his head every time he looked at you, wondering if he’d tossed your panties out or kept them, if he still tasted you on his lips—at this point, fucking you was the least he could do.

And you know it’s in poor taste, but you approach him at the end of class with a revered look on things—hopeful, even. Apologize, fix your grade, and move on like things never happened.

He straightens a stack of files on his desk as you approach, jaw tense as he swallows and his gaze follows the last few lingering students as you neared on him, like prey. But, your face softens when he looks at you and whatever retort he has on standby dissipates for the moment.

“Um,” You start, unsure of how he would react, “I—can we talk?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Joel offers logically, “not…now.”

End of day, he thinks. In his office. Privacy. Secrecy. He didn’t feel like airing things out in the middle of the day, not with his divorce on the forefront of his mind.

“I just…I wanted to apologize.” You tell him quietly, “For everything.”

Was it genuine? Not really.

“I can’t change your grade,” He admits, “I’m not going to and it’s beyond the deadline for that assignment.”

You breath sharply through your nostrils and intertwine your fingers in front of you—Joel can see from the way your grip tightens that you’re holding back and nothing has changed.

Unstable and volatile, you both stared at each other for too long, an eerie silence settling.

“That’s—”

He interrupts without much care, “Unfair? Unethical? Don’t start with this. Not now.”

He doesn’t have any leverage here either, but you quiet down under his gaze slightly.

You begin to speak again, but he holds up a careful finger. Like scolding a child for their actions and you bite back a venomous retort as he talks over you, “Meet me in my office at six. Fifteen minutes. That’s all you get.”

He’s on edge, jaw flexing around a tense swallow that feels impossible to get down. He turns back to his desk, ignoring you and ultimately ending whatever conversation you were hoping to have.

He wants you to wait and despite your stubbornness to address the situation now, you settle with his words and nod, a quiet “Okay.” in response.

“Don’t be late.” He stresses, eyes flicking up towards you briefly.

Your insides twist ominously in anticipation, but you feel yourself throbbing with need.

“Yes,” You respond, “Of course, Mr. Miller.”

There’s an urge for praise that Joel bites back.

-

Joel is already opening the door as your footsteps approach later that day, anticipating your arrival and eyes glancing over your figure in the darkened lights of the classroom, the warm glow of his office blanketing you both as he welcomes you in with a gesture, moving out of your way slightly and closing the door to his office as you trailed toward his desk, lingering quietly.

“You can sit.” He directs, thumbs digging into the waistband of his slacks as he adjusts them slightly, the uncomfortable press of his belt pressing into his stomach. Normally he’d undress a little, relax, but he couldn’t allow that. Not with how anxious he felt, knowing what he faced at home, sure that the divorce papers had already been delivered to Tess.

He’s tried to ignore it—and he doesn’t know why he’s worried, but her refusal to cooperate is always an option and that isn’t something Joel thinks he can handle calmly.

“Okay,” You listen, taking a seat in one of the two leather chairs placed in front of his desk, watching as he leaned against the edge of his desk a few inches away, hands clasped in his lap as he looked down, unsure of how to begin, or where, “Um, I can—”

“You need to understand something,” Joel begins suddenly, interrupting you again—it really, really fucking bothered you. He did it on purpose, as a way to assert himself over you, and you felt it in the way he looked at you, down and scrutinizing, “this—whatever this is, or was—it’s inappropriate.”

As if he had a proper moral compass to explain his actions.

“I don’t need a lesson in appropriate behavior,” You counter, “if that’s what you’re leading into.”

“No—”

It’s your turn to interrupt, sitting up straighter in your chair.

“And truthfully, it’s a little unprofessional of you to continue to fail me after I did the make-up assignment.” You respond, a tinge of condescension in your tone, “and you kissed me, if I remember correctly. So—if this is because you’re upset, then I’m allowed to be too. I want a fair grade. Not what you’re punishing me with now because you—for whatever fucking reason, can’t get passed the idea that you had those thoughts too, but can’t accept it.”

“I’m not punishing you.” Joel responds lamely and you squint your eyes slightly as you look at him before huffing out a breath of defeat, chuckling softly under your breath.

“You know—we talked for weeks. Back and forth. And you reached out to me first. So, if you want to deny that then let’s talk about you abusing your power and holding it over my head now after all of that. Genuine talks. You had to care, to some degree.”

“You’re not the first student I’ve talked to outside of class—”

You roll your eyes, feeling the conversation stalling out quickly.

“Do you still have them?” You ask curiously.

Joel doesn’t need to be told. He knows what you’re referring to.

And the guilt on his face as he looks away briefly, tongue pressing into his cheek as he glances at his watch, avoiding your question.

“Am I out of time already?” You ask patronizingly, leaning over in the chair slightly as you struggle to meet his gaze, his eyes pointed elsewhere. “Tight schedule today?”

“What are you expecting out of this?” Joel asks, arms crossing over his chest, biceps stretching under the dark button-up, licking at his bottom lip anxiously. “Are you that fucking stubborn that you think this is somehow going to work in your favor?”

Your face twitches in frustration and you cock your head slightly, rising from the chair and into his space, close enough that you can smell the faint waft of his cologne, looking him over slowly as his eyes fall on you.

“Where are they?” You ask curiously, squeezing yourself between the small space, thighs rubbing against his own as you walk around him, trailing by his desk. “Here?” You point toward the stack of closed drawers nestled in the wood and Joel glances over his shoulder, quick to move as he pushes you away gently, palm flat against your chest.

“The fuck are you doing?” He asks, “You came here to talk. So talk.”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and test your limits once more, “Oh, so they are in there? Kept them for yourself? You know, this whole moral high ground thing is really fucking annoying, Joel.”

He speaks your name as a warning, but it only makes you feel more at ease.

“What?” You ask innocently, “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Joel chews at his bottom lip and removes his hand from the center of your chest, feeling it sting like a hot brand as his fingers curl around the edge of his desk, feeling oddly small as your eyes track him and watch like he’s some type of prey, a devilish smile pulling at your lips.

He made a mistake underestimating you—or even allowing you back into his office. He was screwed.

“Stop.” He warns, watching as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and reach behind him quickly, yanking at the drawer but he draws your hand up, tight in his grip and forcing you against his chest, your unrestrained hand falling against the desk to catch yourself.

“What’s going on?” You ask softly, feigning genuine emotion. The crease between his brow growing deeper—you’ve spent enough time with him to know when something is bothering him, someone, and it’s written all over his face. “Come on, I won’t say anything.”

“It’s not your business.” Joel offers lamely, feeling you create a small amount of distance as you push away, your wrist still held firmly in his grip, but lower by his waist.

“Is it her?” You ask carefully, “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Another breath of your name—stop here, stop now.

“Did you tell her?” You ask suddenly, eyes widening. “God, are you really that much of a —”

“No, fuck—” He interrupts, “I’m—not that it’s any of your goddamn business, I served her divorce papers today.”

“Oh…” It wasn’t what you expected, not by a longshot. “Was that—is that because of—”

“No,” His eyebrows quirk up slightly, amused that you thought you were the cause of his marriage's untimely dismantlement, “not at all, actually.”

He doesn’t know why it feels like a weight lifting on his chest, but talking about it with you feels…less imposing than he expected. And your eyes soften slightly at the mention, still beckoning something dark but he can see the genuine reaction that flashes momentarily.

He loosens his grip but doesn’t quite let go, thumb rubbing over the vein of your wrist. 

Joel doesn’t understand why he can’t just let go, like he’s weirdly tethered to you.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” You ask, feeling the need to reassure some comfort.

You didn’t really care, but he seemed so pathetically sad. It spilled over and flooded into you, that small tug at your heart. It quickly fades, his mouth opening to speak.

“Not really.” He doesn’t feel the need to bother, glancing at his watch briefly again.

The minutes were ticking down and he knew you were overstaying your welcome—and he was allowing it. But, you here—it feels good. 

“I can’t change your grade,” He reiterates again, “but if you promise to not do something like that again—I can offer some extra credit, something to help make up for it.”

And ultimately teach you a lesson and punish you in the process. Did you really have a choice?

“Extra credit,” You stress, saying slowly as you consider the word, the implication—you don’t think he means it in a nefarious way, it just feels ridiculous, “seriously?”

Joel nods, “Consider it a…lesson learned.”

A small laugh bubbles from your chest but you ignore it, staring down at his touch and speaking.

“You know—I did appreciate the recommendations you made,” You admit, “if that counts for anything.

Joel stares at you, despite your preoccupied gaze, speaking directly.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I care about that,” Joel says, “I give recommendations to students all the time. But, you seemed more interested so–I gave you more.”

“Right,” You say with finality, “and all those nights at the coffee shop?”

“I’m there quite a bit anyways,” He admits, only a half-truth, “you’re not the first student I’ve had meetings with outside of class.”

He’s trying to reiterate to himself that his actions are justified, but his body is saying otherwise.

“Mr. Miller,” You start softly, “can I ask you one more question?”

Silent, he nods again.

“Why are you still touching me?”

And he doesn’t know why, but something in him snaps. The quickening of your pulse under his fingertips, your eyes finally flicking up to him. He does have your panties tucked away in his desk, he doesn’t meet with students outside of his class like that, and he can try and convince himself all he wants, but him reaching out to you was a personal, selfish decision that had nothing to do with anything but his own curiosity. He sees the subtle catch of your breath and doesn’t stop you when he sees you moving closer, quick and determined.

Fuck his time limit, you think.

 If he wanted you to leave he would’ve forced you out by now.

Your lips are soft but forceful, pressing against his with fervor as you slip your wrist from his grip and bury your fingers into his shortened curls, trimmed down at the base of his neck but there’s still just enough to tug, swallowing down his soft grunt as you pull and bite as at his bottom lip.

Joel has the thought to stop you, but he can’t. 

He feels guilty, appreciating the touch that he’s lacked for so long. But, there’s a creeping sensation of frustration that fills him, vexed with you. And it snaps, completely.

His hands finally touch you, releasing a breath into his mouth you didn’t realize you were holding. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped firmly around your neck. Just a solid weight that he uses as leverage when you get too eager, nipping at his lip. 

Joel moves you easily, silently as he turns and presses you against his desk, mumbling a soft “Up.” as he aids in the lift of your thighs, taking a seat on his desk as it shakes with the movement and he slots himself between your open legs and kisses you fuller, selfishly.

He’s eager to slip his tongue into your mouth once more, like beforem and you welcome it with ease. Giggling into his open mouth as he squeezes at your throat, the sound breaking his focus.

“So, is this the extra credit?” You speak against his lips, a soft puff of his breath over your face as he keeps his eyes closed, face pressed against yours. “Because I think my fifteen minutes is up.”

Joel can’t do conversation right now, the noise grating in his ears as he blindly reaches for his tie and loosens it, yanking it away from his neck and balling up the material, his eyebrows shooting up slightly in response as he catches your gaze, momentarily confused until you quickly catch on.

Oh, he wants you to shut up. Noted.

He’s guiding the fabric to your mouth before you can properly speak and that’s what he wants, stuffing it between your teeth and forcing you to bite down, his eyes darkened as he squeezes your cheeks between his fingers, shifting a hand under the hem of your dress where it tickles your thighs and you legs widen instinctively, even more. There’s an obvious absence of fabric that Joel notes as his fingers dig into your hips, your eyes brightening at his realization.

And that’s how Joel knows—you never came here to talk. You always had some underlying intention or reason and it drove him insane, but he was a raging hypocrite, wanting it just as selfishly. His fingers drag over your pussy with intention, gliding through your slick and pressing a single digit inside of you with little resistance and you gasp, muffled by the fabric.

“You didn’t come here to talk,” Joel surmises, though it was obvious from the start, “did you?”

You shake your head weakly, eyes squeezing shut as he pumps his fingers and quickly adds another, hand flying to his wrist as he quirks his fingers inside of you and hits a spot that has your stomach coiling in anticipation.  

“What do you want?” He asks hotly, hand squeezing at the base of your neck while he uses his other hand to rub messy, slow circles over your clit. Your hands reach for his belt without question, palm flattening over his cock that was held tightly behind the stiff material of his slacks. “Yeah?” He questions, the subtle squeeze of your hand against his shaft in response.

And part of you really doesn’t think he has it in him to go through with it, but then he’s pulling his hand away from you to manipulate and manhandle, yanking you off the desk sloppily and pressing your front against the edge, fumbling with his belt behind you and pulling it off in a sharp snap, hand flattening against your back as he presses you down.

“Give me your hands.” He tells you, a soft whine of protest coming from your mouth, but then he’s pulling himself from his briefs, cock in hand as he tugs at himself slowly and glides along the center of your pussy, dragging through the wetness. “You want me to fuck you, right? Give me your hands.”

You had control on just about every aspect of his mind—he needed this, the physicality stripped from you.

You oblige silently, face resting against the cold wood as you offered up your hands and allowed him to constrain them tight and snug—he does it with ease. Practice and perfected and he uses it as leverage to pull you back toward him, “So, we have a caveat here. No condom.”

You nod deftly, eyes closing as he tightens his grip and ultimately squeezes the belt even tighter.

“But, something tells me you don’t care—” A shake of your head in response, “—don’t tell me you’re that fucking naive.”

You shrug lamely, wiggling your ass in an effort to move closer, eyebrow furrowing as he moves his hips away slightly. You growl in frustration and spit out the tie, “Fuck you, I’m on birth control. Do you really think I’m that irresponsible?”

His lack of answer is enough of one and he stuffs the fabric back into your mouth with a grimace, “Given your behavior, yes.” He fists himself tightly and slips inside of you with ease, a snug fit but you mold around him perfectly.

And it shouldn’t feel right, but it does. Joel breathes a soft breath of relief as he uses his free hand to fist into the fabric of your dress and use it as a perfect leverage to fuck into you with fervor, disregarding of your own pleasure for the time being—though the angle and the intensity of your thrust doesn’t have you far off, snapping his hips with a furiosity that strikes something inside of you with each harsh movement.

He’s huffing behind clenched teeth, a low growl emitting from his chest as he feels you tighten around him instinctively, sobbing brokenly around the fabric in your mouth, eventually allowing it to slip as you feel his grip shift, pulling you upright by your dress and pressing you back against his chest.

“Why the—sudden change of heart?” You tease, an underlying suspicion in your mind that you don’t speak aloud. He wanted a distraction and you were proving to be a great one. His hips slow suddenly, almost like he’s contemplating a response.

He huffs out a bitter laugh, snapping his hips sharply and forcing a gasp from your chest.

“Do you ever shut up?” He asks, “If I knew you’d be this annoying I would’ve just shoved my dick in your mouth—maybe that would do you some good. You’d like that, huh?”

You giggle softly but it falls off into a broken moan as Joel buries his face into your neck, biting roughly at your skin as he feels himself reaching his peak, knowing it’s been far too long for him—years of lacking sex that quickly divulged into nothing. “I think you would like that, Joel.”

You’re waiting for a chastise that never comes, knowing he hates when his name falls from your tongue—he makes a muffled sound as he loosens the belt with fluid, practiced fingers and discards it to the floor, relieving the growing ache in your shoulders as he crosses an arm over your chest, palm flat against it to hold you in place as he snaps his hips once, twice, before his other hand is digging into the flesh of your own hip as he comes, deep inside of you and with a muffled grunt, teeth leaving a faint impression in your skin—and you’re only slightly disappointed in his lack of attention in making you come, but then he’s pulling out and spinning you around, hands coming up under your thighs to spread you out over his desk, silently pressing for you to lean back, dropping to his knees with his pants pooling low on his thighs. Too impatient to redress fully.

You gasp when he dips a finger inside of you, catching the slow spend that slips out, stuffing it back in as he presses his tongue over your clit and groaning at how you clench tightly around his fingers, spasming at the pressure.

“Quiet,” He warns, “put the fucking tie back in your mouth if you can’t control yourself.”

You can admit defeat, pathetically stuffing the fabric back in your mouth—haphazardly as half of it drapes over your chest, eyes locking on Joel’s as he laps at your clit, fingers stuffed inside of you to keep his cum from dripping out. And it’s so overwhelming that when you do finally come, you feel your vision blacking out, biting down roughly on the silk tie as you claw at the hand he has braced against your stomach, desperately trying to keep your writhing body still.

The aftermath is quiet, jaded—shifting on his desk silently you watch as he redresses, tucking his shirt back into his pants as he slips his belt through the loops, the fingers that were just buried inside of you working so easily against the leather. 

“Satisfied?” He asks suddenly, into the silence as you both lock eyes.

He slips the tie from your fingers, placing it back around his neck and tying it diligently. 

“Are you going to try and convince me you did that for my benefit?” You retort in annoyance, despite how satisfied you actually may be, this wasn’t just on you, “How about you apologize for using me as an outlet for your troubled marriage?”

“You’re not an outlet–”

And as if you spoke it into existence, the knock comes a few moments later. The door opening.

This is the part where Joel’s life finally implodes.

You on his desk, compromising as he still stands halfway between your legs in the middle of shifting his tie and Tess is…stoic. Silent.

“This is what’s been keeping you so preoccupied?” Tess asks, the dooming stack of papers gripped tightly in her hand. “Fucking a student?” Her eyes flicking to you briefly but quickly back to Joel and he nods toward the door, beckoning for you to leave. 

You do, without question. 

 And the aftermath is abysmal.

[mysticficti0n]

hiyaaa I love the Colby fic and I was wondering if you could do a short one of like y/n gong through a break up but she doesn't tell him or sam (and could Kat be in it- they're all roomates sorta thing) and she doesn't rlly come out her room and they get worried until Colby goes up and she breaks and he comforts her- like fluffy stuff plz

omg yes this sounds so cutie so ofcc!!! I don't know if its great as I'm very tired but I hope you guys enjoy, It feels good to be writing for someone new but I do still love Tokio Hotel !! I did a very quick proof read but if I missed anything sorry !!

Broken Heart

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

warnings- ColbyBrockxFem/Reader, swearing, fluff, comfort, best friends, care, reader is cheated on

words- 1.7k

Y/n's POV

"I don't understand why you're so angry Y/n?" Justin looked to me, my eyes narrowed "she was just a fri-"

"Shut the fuck up! you keep saying she was a friend but friends don't fuck each other" I screamed- it was killing me, my boyfriend of 6 years cheating on me with his 'friend', his friend who is his phone had hearts next to her name, every message had a 'xxx' at the end, winky faces and peaches shared until one day...today, I go to his apartment 5 minuets from mine to see him in bed, his hands laying on the red-heads hips

"I-it's just a miss understanding Y/n please!" he begged but I couldn't forgive him- not for this "look let me apologise and we can re-start"

"yeah after 6 whole years? good idea Justin let me just forget everything huh?" I yelled, his eyes dropped he knew I wasn't going to take it "just leave"

"no- Y/n I can make it up to you" he pleaded again and again, hands reaching for mine but I pulled away, backing from him

"get the fuck out of my house Justin" my voice was low "go through the fucking door and don't come back- get out" I watched him give me one more look and he left, leaving me with the haunting memories of him with someone else, those 6 years down the drain. The pain settled in quicker then expected, my chest heaved up and down as I sobbed into my pillow as I stared into the images of me and him dotted around my room, the light from the day slowly faded leaving me in darkness, only figures in my room kept me company, my face ached, my whole body did, especially my head so I decided to sleep, sleep would keep me safe, sleep was quiet, sleep was calm.

Kat's POV

Me, Sam and Colby walked into the house, it was silent, no music or tv playing which was unusual if Y/n and Justin were in "think they went out or something I mean its 9- might be like their date night?" Sam spoke putting his keys onto the kitchen island

"Maybe... I'll check up stairs" I smiled quickly leaving the two to find Y/n, I got to her door and pushed it open to see her room pitch black, not any of her candles lit, or lamp on "Y/n?" I whispered and a body shifted under the covers "Y/n, you okay?" I spoke coming in a little more to her room

"fine, just tired" she hummed turning over facing away from me in the doorway

"oh okay- where's Justin?" I asked, most days he's in the house, I mean he was meant to move in with us in a few weeks

"I dunno" she answered in a yawn, I oh'ed, the mood didn't feel right but I decided to leave her in peace, I closed the door and made my way into mine and Sam's room, he was sat on the bed flicking through his phone until he saw me walk in

"she okay?" he asked

"think so- said she is and she's tired" he nodded looking back to his phone "Justin isn't here though" his gaze flicked back up to which I just nodded

"he basically lives here, why wouldn't he be here? and its a Saturday night and ever since they got together he was here every weekend" I shrugged climbing in bed next to the blonde, resting my head on him

"who knows"

The night went by, and the three of us were up in the kitchen, the clock read '12:48pm' and Y/n was still In her room, still in silence, I told Colby what I had told Sam and he seemed just as confused, we decided to order some dinner, just something small and ordered Y/n some too, I was sure something had happened but... maybe I was thinking to much into it

"foods here" Sam spoke bring it in, Colby was half way up the stairs as he said he was going to go get his hoodie from his room "Colby grab Y/n" the other called getting a thumbs up by him

Colby's POV

I jumped up the rest of the stairs going to Y/n's room first, it was weird for her not to be up, she's always awake before me at least but the house was just missing her, I knocked twice before hearing a voice murmur a small 'come in' I pushed it open and saw her body curled in her coves, curtains pulled shut, and tissues thrown onto the floor "hey- you okay?" I asked coming over to the side of the bed where it was empty. Her eyes flickered open and looked up to me

"yeah- think I'm getting Ill" she hummed, sitting herself up, I looked to her face and saw her nose was red and eyes glossy "just a cold"

"hm yeah- we've got dinner down stairs, got you a burger and fries" I spoke as I watched her, she nodded pulling her sheets away and crawling out the side she walked past me and straight to the stairs, I followed forgetting my hoodie and just went to her side, I could see her clearly now, mascara around her eyes along with dark circles, her hair wet on one side, the usual dark lipstick she wore, smudged against her cheek

"hey Y/n" Kat smiled passing her a bag of food "feeling better?"

"no don't feel it- thanks for the food but I think I'll eat up stairs- don't wanna make you guys sick" she spoke, her voice sounding gravelly and tired

"Y/n we don't care, come sit on the couch with us- we can watch a film or something- we have yours and Justins favourite, Tita-" Sam went to continue until the girl beside me face dropped

"I don't wanna sit down here" was the last thing she snapped before hurrying away and her door slammed, I looked to the others who just stood stunned...

the week carried on, time passing by as it does and still no sight of Y/n, I was getting worried she's never like this, I sat alone down stairs as Kat and Sam had gone out somewhere and the only thing that went through my mind was her, I couldn't help the fact I was thinking of her, Y/n's never in her room if someones in the house or if she is in her room- someones with her

but why is she acting off- everything was so different, I couldn't help but be nosey, it was all in good intention of course, thats what I kept telling myself as I stood ear to the door of her room just listening; her voice mumbled incoherent words, small little cries leaving her every so often, my body relaxed a little to much and I ended up falling against the door "Colby?" her voice called 'fuck' I cursed to myself before pushing her door open again "were you fucking listening through my door?" her tone was angry, a cry halting in her throat

"Look I'm sorry but I'm worried about you" I said, I didn't want to keep it from her, I was worried, scared even "you didn't even eat your food" I spoke looking to the bag still sat scrunched on her desk "what happened?"

"I'm fine Colby okay? For days people keep fucking asking me if I'm okay and I fucking am" she ragged the sheet over her "just get the fuck out"

"Y/n you're not fucking fine- I've known you long enough to know this isn't how you act all the time" I didn't mean for my voice to raise at her but I was annoyed but not with her, she was going through something and didn't want to admit it "what happened" I said, my voice stern. The covers flipped from her body, her eyes welled with tears, face wet

"He fucking cheated on me- There better? you know now, my boyfriend of 6 years cheated on me because I'm not good enough for him and I can't think straight, I feel sick all the goddamn time and all I have every hour is 'you okay Y/n?' No I'm fucking not" her voice broke, the sobs that once heaved in her chest being released

"I'm sorry" I spoke, coming next to her bed, she looked up to me and her face snapped, pearls of tears slipping down her cheeks

"Why wasn't I good enough, Colbs?" she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow, her head buried in her hands. I couldn't bear to see her in such pain. Without thinking, my arms enveloped her fragile frame, pulling her close to my chest as I settled on the edge of her mattress.

"You're more than good enough, Y/n – I promise you that," I reassured her, my voice a soothing balm against the storm of emotions raging within her. Y/n's face found refuge in the curve of my neck, and I could feel the warmth of her tears seeping into my skin. It broke my heart to witness her suffering. "Did he do anything to hurt you?" I asked gently, my concern deepening as I held her tighter. She shook her head, her breath hitching between sobs.

"He... he just said she was a friend, but then I walked in on them having sex at his apartment," she confessed, the pain evident in every word. My fingers traced gentle patterns along her back, offering what little comfort I could. "I just don't understand why," she continued, her eyes red and swollen from the tears. I nodded, listening intently as she poured her heart out.

"He's just stupid, Y/n. You're nothing but perfect," I whispered, my hand tenderly cupping her jaw, guiding her to look into my eyes. "He's the one who's made the biggest mistake of his life by letting someone as amazing as you slip away."

She nodded, her tear-stained eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. In that moment, as I held her close, I vowed to be her pillar of support – a reminder that despite the pain, she was deserving of love and happiness. Together, we would navigate through the shadows, and I would do everything in my power to mend the shattered pieces of her heart.

"thanks Colby" Y/n smiled, hugging herself back into my chest

[taehyunsluvr]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Boy Next Door ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

warnings: sub!soobin, afab!reader, dom!reader, making out, friends to strangers to lovers, nerd!soobin, nicknames (noona, soobie), kinda leg riding?, first time, pervert!soobin, not proofread

a/n: short, kinda a random idea but fits him. We all know he'd he such a boob guy. Theres lore guys theres lore okay trust me

!!MDNI!!

Everyone labels him the "nerd" of the neighborhood because he's kind of the guy everyone uses for homework answers. Your friends, they can be a bit harsh. They sorta.. kinda.. bully him? That sounds realllyyy bad but really all they do is tease him from time to time. For small things like his glasses, the way he dresses, yk the usually things. And yeah, you've laughed along a few times. It felt wrong, but it was worth it to be friends with them.

Though he's always kinda been your friend, secretly. He helped you out with math when you were practically failing, listened to your endless rants about whatever drama was going down at school, and never asked for anything back. Thats just all he was though, always there, kind of like part of the scenery of your life you never really paid much attention to.

Then randomly at school, Soobin comes up to you. He's looks of nervous, which honestly wasn't that weird for him. He purposefully tried to meet you when your friends were getting snacks during your break.

"Y/n," he mutters, "there's something I really need to tell you." You just stare at him. You were kind of annoyed because if your friends saw you they would never shut up about you talking to him. "I like you, more than a friend like. I've felt this way for a while but didn't say anything because I know how it is with your friends..I know you laugh with them, and it's cool but we're graduating soon so I didn't want to miss the opportunity." You didn't really give him an answer. You just stared at him, mouth open slightly and with a confused expression before he walked away.

It pissed you off that he just HAD to tell you. It was awkward as HELLL and now you couldn't even ask him for help with work. And not to mention finals were like in a week. And now you stood in your kitchen, pissed of because your mom told you 5 minutes ahead of time that the Choi's would be coming to your house to have dinner. Was this a joke? Well you wanted to make the best of it. At least you could play around with him for the time you had. You tried slightly with your outfit and makeup, but no too hard. When the door opened and his family entered, you were sitting on the couch. You got up to greet them all, glancing at Soobin. He had his usual black framed glasses on, and a plain outfit.

"Hey you came." You waved slightly to him. He VERY awkwardly waved back, looking at his feet avoiding eye contact. "Mom we'll be in my room." Now this would sound suspicious if it wasn't for the fact that you've known each other since you've worn diapers. You both made your way up your stairs, and into your room. "You can sit on my bed if you want." He nodded silently. "Soo.. anything new with you?" You wanted to talk about something, ANYTHING to break this awkward suffocating feeling. It wasn't just awkward, but you were also still pissed. You weren't pissed at the fact that he abruptly confessed, but more by the fact that he didn't let you give a proper response. He constantly avoided you at school and pretended not to be home when you brought stuff over to his house for his family. Did he think he was alone with his feelings?

"Some people started a rumor at school.." He said breaking the silence again. "They said we're a couple. You raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? You sure you didn't start the rumor yourself?" You teased. He looked genuinely bothered. You scoweled. "What? Does it make you that unfomfortable that people think we're dating?" He quickly retorted, "N-no..! I just thought it might make you.. annoyed"

"Ill decide for myself how I feel, thanks, I dont need you deciding that."

"thats not what I meant.. I'm sorry noona.." He said repentually.

"I never even got to respond to you that day. Maybe the rumors would have been true if you let me speak." You said moving slightly closer to him on your bed. He looked confused.

"My answer is I like you too, and I do want to date you. So does that answer suit you? Or were you expecting rejection?" he paused. He felt a bit embarrassed when you so bluntly expressed your feelings to him. He wasn't expecting a positive reaction, so he felt hesitant on if he should speak or stay quite.

"H-huh?" He couldn't tell if you were teasing him or not. "If you're actually serious then why didn't you just tell me then?"

"Because you didn't give me the opportunity to. Well its good we got that out of the way. I'm actually really excited now. We can do tons of fun couple things." She said facing him.

"We-w-what?" The whole mood shifted. A moment ago you guy's were all serious, which was totally out of character for you. Soobin was taken by surprise as you leaned closer. "What 'couple things' are you talking about..?" His voice broke as he spoke.

"we could play around and.." she leaned closer to whisper to him, "I would even.. let you touch them." She leaned back away from him and laughed hysterically while cupping her chest in her hands.

Soobin felt his entire face immideitatly turn red and his heart rate shoot up. He felt like he could die from embarassment as he felt his body heat up because of the teasing. He could only slightly nod. "W-well I guess.. we can do that.."

"Oh so you're admitting to being a pervert?"

"I-it's.. not like that" He said answering quickly. "I'm not.." it was a joke you often said to him before.

"You've thought about it before haven't u? How they felt?"

"W-well.. um.. yeah.. I have thought about it.. but that doesn't make me a perv.." His face flushed even more than before.

"It totally does. But your wish is my command." She took his big hand and placed it on her chest. Soobin immediately felt a sudden warmth on his hand. It was like every nerve was being stimulated, and his breath began to become more heavy as his heart rate increased. You never knew boobs turned guys on this much. Or maybe it was just Soobin..

"You like it right?" You teased.

"W-well, I mean.. they're- they look really soft and I.." He trailed off and he was stuttering profusely. It was already too much for him to handle.

"you're already this flustered from feeling my clothed chest?' He nodded in a mix of shame and embarrassment. His face was completely red now. You wanted to test his limits. You leaned onto him, pressing a soft gentle kiss onto his lips. You just wanted to test the waters. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt the unexpected sensation. He hesitated for a moment before slowly parting his plush lips. The kiss became more rough, and you pulled his waist, so once he attempted to pull away, naturally he fell onto his back on your bed. He gasped for air, his body trembling under yours. His hands moved up to your shoulders, trying to push you away but finding it almost impossible to resist. The warm touch of your hand started to spread all around his torso as your fingers began to run over his skin. He let a groan before speaking, "M-Mmph...p-please don't.. dont't stop.." You moved your mouth down to his kneck, slowly trailing kisses down his sensitive skin.

A shiver ran down his spine, and he let out more groans as he tried to hold onto u, not wanting you to stop. You lifted up his plain tee revealing his chest. You brought one of his even more sensitive nipples into your mouth, gently sucking. Soobin let out a soft moan, and he couldn't help but arch his back slightly. You could feel his heartbeat now, and he could feel himself getting harder under your touch. You felt it. It was huge. Wasn't he the nerd everyone asked for homework answers? Why did god give him everything. Looks, brains, and a huge cock. She let out a teasing laugh.

"Somone's excited." She lifted her knee in between his legs.

"M-mhhh..mm n-noona.." His moans became even more intense as you pushed into his hard erection through his sweatpants. He couldn't hold it in anymore. "M-more..please," he managed to whisper between ragged breaths. She gave attention to his swollen nipple while still pushing her knee into him. The sensations were overwhelming. His body trembled. He pressed his hips forward in an attempt to get closer to the sensation you were creating. "Fuck.. I can't take m-more.." His voice strained. "Mm.." He tried to hold back, but as soon as he felt your hand slip down under his sweatpants onto his hardness he couldn't help but make noises of pleasure.

"Shhh.. these walls aren't sound proof soobie." You told him, knowing there was no way anyone downstairs could hear if they couldn't hear your blasting music that you usually played on your speaker. His body tensed up and he felt himself about to climax, his hips bucking forward. "noona I'm- I-" With a suppressed and strained moan he released his seed into his sweatpants, panting heavily as the wave of pleasure washed over him. He took a second to fully come down to realize the situation. His legs still twitching, he felt both incredibly embarrassed and incredibly speechless.

"Oh- by the way I'm sorry for laughing with my friends.. before.." She had a complete 360 in the way she treated him but he didn't even seem to notice-- or care. "I-i don't even care anymore." He said calmly. "Can you grab me a tissue?"

[findafight]

Ohhh fic where Steve and Robin and Dustin and Erica all casually make funny little haha jokes with each other about getting tortured/almost caught by the Russians under Starcourt because they all have that shared trauma and had many a long late night calls reassuring each other they're alive and playing dnd together and fulfilling lifetime supply of icecream obligations.

They do this because sure the rest of the party knew there were Russians under Starcourt but everything they went through in that basement was sorta...forgotten in the aftermath of literal flesh monster. And with Hopper dead and the Byers moving, there's so much happening that whatever happened to Steve's face (lost another fight...) and why he and Robin went from mildly antagonistic co-workers to codependent goobers who couldn't go literally a day without seeing the other or what made Dustin always ask if Erica was going to come for party hang outs are all sort of brushed under the rug. Not a big deal, really. Bigger things happening after everything.

And they cope together and scoops troop is a weird little section of the party no one but them really understands. Robin and Steve are attached at the hip and to a lesser extent so are Erica and Dustin (but they'll never admit it), and they all have mini gatherings together.

So, the casual mentioning of starcourt and specifically what went down with the Russians is commonplace for them. (Erica is quick to remind them she saved their asses, and are they so lame they need her help again? but she smiles and Steve and Robin just laugh and give her a big hug.) And somehow, they forget that not everyone really knows what went down before July 4th 1985.

And I want them to do it in front of everyone. I want them to have their stupid "this was so fucked up but we're alive and we got through it so now we have to laugh or we may never stop crying about it" banter at a big "we saved the world again!" Barbecue. I want the rest of the folks there to go silent and them not to notice.

I want someone to mention Steve not getting a black eye this time, congrats! and Robin going "the only reason why I didn't get one last time was because the Russians said-"

And Steve, who is lying with his head in her lap, reaches up to gently cup her cheek and says in a terrible Russian accent "don't worry, we will not ruin your pretty face!" (everyone is quiet around them, they do not notice)

She laughs. "And punched me in the gut a few more times. I peed blood for like, three days."

Steve goes "ewwww" only to be pinched by robin.

"you peed blood too, dingus. You got it worse than me and my pretty face."

He giggles and opens his hand up for a high five "pissing blood buddies, hell yeah!" And shifts in her lap. "But they bruised my pretty face. Rude."

"aww. It's okay, Stevie, your face is still so pretty. Prettiest boy in Hawkins."

"thanks Robin."

"at least Dustin and Erica got us out before they started ripping out fingernails." She shudders.

"or used the bonesaw"

"mmm. Unfortunately not before we got funky truth serum drugs though."

He leans up, looking at the two "y'all couldn't have been a bit faster?" But he's smiling, teasing. A well worn joke.

Dustin and Erica respond simultaneously with "I'm missing bones, Steve, what do you want from me?" And "I was ten and my legs were short as shit. Beggars can't be choosers." Respectively.

It is at this point an Actual Grown Up butts in.

"what. What do you mean ripping out fingernails?"

Robin and Steve look towards Joyce, who asked.

"like. To interrogate us? Because we just kept saying we worked for scoops even with the truth serum."

"because they thought we had to be superspies to get into their creepy lair and not a bunch of kids."

"mmhmm"

Hopper jumps in "wait. You were tortured by them?"

Robin and Steve give him eerily similar looks that express how obvious the answer to that is.

"yeah, duh."

"I don't go looking to get brain damage every year, you know."

Hoppers eye twitches. "Why didn't you say anything?"

[cripplecharacters]

That reblog of Aaron Philip brought up a question for me - how often do wheelchair users need to sacrifice/adjust their personal style for safety in their chair? Would it make sense to have a character try to integrate their chair into their fashion, or would it be too unrealistic with all the moving parts and the risk of fabric getting caught in something? I'm picturing someone dressing up their chair in matching vibes (maybe some draped fabric to match their evening dress) but I don't know if that would be seen as too risky/not worth it.

Hi lovely asker <3

[Post in question for context] We actually just answered an ask here about decorating wheelchairs, and so many people decorate them to their style and fashion sense!

The sacrifice of Function and/or Fashion is becoming less because more brands and people are making Accessible functional fashion. Iz adaptive is one brand that comes up for that and they even have a whole page on why clothes are different for wheelchair users and how to make it accessible. This doesn't mean It is not still a constant problem but it is slowly getting better. Genetech did a fashion show for people with SMA, and what I like about that video is that with each person they put up a card with what alterations were made to make the clothes accessible for each individual.

And on that, often a lot of time we also know how to alter or mend our own clothes too (or we have a close person/loved one who does it for us). This is partly why the disabled community and the Fiber arts community tend to intermingle a lot also.

If you're doing something more extravagant, with flowy draped fabric that hangs past the wheels, sacrificing function for fashion may happen, but also a lot of pictures that do have that long fabric over them are usually just for photoshoots. They're ways to make it accessible for functionality though! Tieing up the fabric is one way, altering the way the fabric sits/falls, or even removing underlayers of volume can help decrease the weight or length of the fabric. Sewing buttons and buttonholes into it so you can pin the fabric up is another; or even just carrying some safety pins and pinning it up that way too.

One example that I can think of is at Pride Parades actually! A lot of people drape or pin flags on the back of their wheelchairs. Sometimes it drags, sometimes you snag the edges of it, a lot of times it's turning to your friend and going "It's not dragging too much right?". If someone/a character is doing the same sorta thing, where they knowingly put hanging fabric that they know may drag or snag, usually your just very vigilant and (if their able too) constantly checking on it/moving it out of the way, I would say it's likely someone may risk functionality for fashion.

I would recommend looking up stuff like "Wheelchair fashion" or "disabled fashion" because there is so many people who do so many cool things. Find disabled models who do photoshoots, or disabled actors/actresses is another way too!

~ Mod Virus 🌸

[honeysuckleharringtons]

just steve harrington being so selfless and not taking time for himself melting into a puddle if the reader or you or y/n (idk which one to put 💀) just asked him if he was okay a lot (I do that 24/7, this is purely self indulgent) and the many times he said yeah and the one time he said no :(

i was originally gonna do a full fic style blurb on this but words have been very hard for me lately so i'm just gonna do a text post about this! hope you don't mind 🫶🏻

warnings: reader is sorta implied to be fem!reader, allusions to steve being treated not so well by his parents as a kid, part of this does mention some upside down violence, tiny mention of food, no use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!

send me steve thoughts | ask box

I imagine the first time it happens is probably in gym class when you're younger.

You accidentally hit him right in his pretty lil face with a dodgeball ☹️

And Steve being Steve insists he's okay because "I get hit all the time in basketball and football. I've broken bones and nearly busted my teeth out. A lil dodgeball never hurt anyone."

But you can tell he's hurt.

Whether it's him that's hurt or his bruised ego, you can't really tell.

But some part of him was clearly hurt.

more under the cut!

The second time it happens is when you get paired together for a study group during senior year.

Steve struggles with a lot of subjects, but math is probably his worst.

And it's not like he doesn't want to get better, his parents just never sat down at the table and helped him with anything growing up, and when his nannies told his dad about his report cards, it didn't end very well ☹️

But math is the one he's always had the hardest time with.

So when the two of you get paired to study for the calculus final, you can almost immediately tell he's struggling to understand the questions on the example sheet.

At one point, he just kinda places his head in his hands and groans into his palms.

And you're just kinda like, "Hey, you okay?"

And again, Steve is never one to admit defeat.

"I'll be fine. Can you just help me with question four?"

Surprisingly though, after just a few nights of studying together, you become sort of reluctant allies.

He surprisingly excelled in human biology, which you did not. So, the two of you helped each other where you could.

And then it happened a third time, during the summer after you'd graduated.

Steve had had a rather unsuccessful time trying to flirt with the ladies that often came into Scoops Ahoy.

This day had been no different.

He'd really tried his hardest to get the beautiful ginger in front of you to go with him to the movies on Friday.

But she and her friends just moved along, double-scoop ice cream cones in hand, back to their shopping.

"You good?" you asked, nearly on the verge of laughing, as you stepped up to the counter.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he answered sarcastically. "Just a little bruise to my ego. That was definitely the first time any lady has turned down this beautiful face."

Part of you, though, was hurting. Hurting that, even though you were right in front of him, he'd never bothered to look at you that way.

The fourth time it happened, you really started to question everything you thought you knew about Steve.

Somehow, despite being back in town for a total of two days, you'd gotten roped into something to do with some evil dude named Vecna.

And for once, after everything you'd learned since arriving back in Hawkins for spring break, Steve was the one asking if you were okay.

Also for once, one of you was answering the question truthfully.

However, in the week that followed after, even in the midst of alternate dimensions and weird mutations of bats, you'd learned that Steve might have been causing his previous lady problems on purpose.

And when you saw the painful expression he sported as Nancy Wheeler was reunited with her boyfriend, your own heart shattered all over again.

Still, if there was one thing you were, it was a good friend to Steve.

So, you pulled him aside and asked those three little words.

Steve simply ran a hand through his disheveled hair with a slow nod.

But you could tell he was nearly at the point of breaking.

And the time when he finally answered truthfully, he really did break.

You'd drove with him to the hospital to check up on Max Mayfield, who somehow he'd became friends with despite the age difference.

The room was dead silent, other than the annoying buzzing coming from the lights.

You finally gave him a good once-over as he sat at Max's bedside—his messy hair, his pale face with newly acquired purple spots under his eyes, a small cut under his lip.

And for the first time since you'd known Steve, you watched as tears formed in his eyes.

You were quick to rush over to the other side of the bed, your hand splaying across his back and rubbing soft, small circles against his frame.

"Steve, I know this is a silly question to ask, because we both know the real answer, but seriously, are you okay?"

He knew he couldn't hide. Not any longer. So, he simply let the walls come down, croaking out a small, "No," through his flood of tears.

After crying into your shoulder and allowing himself to finally let go of everything he'd been holding in for all those years, he just simply held you.

Finally, after explaining everything—from the reason why he never told you about the Upside Down, to why he'd used Nancy and all those girls as a distraction from the person he really wanted—he just grabbed your face and kissed you. A sweet and tender kiss, not a desperate or lustful kiss, but a longing one—one he'd waited much too long to give you.

And somehow, even in the midst of all the bad stuff, even in the midst of Steve finally breaking, the two of you could finally find a way to maybe, just maybe, be okay for once. ❤️‍🩹

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

[ach-sss-no]

I feel weird giving out unprompted permission statements because I'm making a big assumption that anyone's going to want to use my work. That said I also know people do like to build on other people's art and can't always work up the nerve to ask, so: Anyone is free to use this design if they want to for any reason- I don't own this character anyway. (Although I am hopeful that you do not, you know, monetize it, because i cant do that and if you do that its not fair ;_; ) Feel free to remix, improve, use as basic inspiration, etc. I would appreciate a tag/mention if you use it so I can see what you did!

This design has evolved a little since I first started drawing it, and I will see people reblogging the original design notes and think 'oh no! those are out of date and I don't have new/accurate ones!'

Reblogging the old one is still an honor- and the first take on a design just sometimes has a different appeal because it's less refined and more chaotic (especially with a character that should be chaotic), so I suspect some people will just prefer the older drawings & they'll still get shared, which is great! But I felt as if the project was a little bit incomplete without an update, since I think I've reached the point where if you see that old post & then come to my blog and look at my current content, there's a noticeable difference.

Also I kind of like making design notes.

If anyone's wondering why things changed, the answer's really simple- 90% of it is just the result of him settling into having more consistent anatomy and facial structure so that I can keep him looking accurate across different angles and poses. If you look at the old drawings you may notice that Gollum has an inconsistently shaped squishy head. That's fine for a concept post but doesn't work as well for maintaining him across different comic panels or in an animatic, at least not the way I work.

In the same vein, while my art is still & will always be heavily stylized, I started giving him more structured semi-sorta-realistic anatomy so that he wouldn't look entirely out of place next to less bizarre-looking characters such as Aragorn. (I feel that's also helpful in nudging Gollum into the uncanny valley where he ought to be, rather than leaving him so abstractified that there's a risk you won't see anything wrong with him having noodle arms.) He also acquired the new-style 'garbage bag' outfit because I found a reference in LOTR to his arms and legs being bare/exposed (it's in one of my favorite passages, the 'an eagle would think Gollum was dead if it came by right now' passage in The Two Towers):

Not even an eagle poised against the sun would have marked the hobbits sitting there, under the weight of doom, silent, not moving, shrouded in their thin grey cloaks. For a moment he might have paused to consider Gollum, a tiny figure sprawling on the ground: there perhaps lay the famished skeleton of some child of Men, its ragged garment still clinging to it, its long arms and legs almost bone-white and bone-thin: no flesh worth a peck.

[sunkissed-zegras]

Not sure if I can combine things but if I can….🧊☕️ Trevor Zegras?

this is sorta angsty ?????? LMAO, but enjoy nonetheless.

make-up sex w zegras sounds like HEAVEN. like yes.

nsfw under the cut!! read with your own discretion

you couldn't help but throw your head back as trevor worked his tongue on your clit, moving his tongue in slow circles. your back arched at the warm sensation, as you gripped the blanket that laid under you and trevor.

everything that you had argued about suddenly seemed unimportant and insignificant now as trevor made up all his mistakes using his tongue, which ironically was the reason why you guys had been fighting in the first place.

"fuck, trev." you whined desperately as he kept his pace slow and sweet, trying to savor your sweet taste. "faster, please."

trevor couldn't smile into your cunt as he kept flicking his tongue at the same steady pace. he removed his mouth from you for a second as he dove his fingers deep into you, prompting your back to arch off the mattress at the new sensation as you let out a loud squeal.

"better, baby?" he asked, teasingly as he thrusted his fingers in and out of your cunt. your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers making his cock twitch in his shorts.

you couldn't even answer with words, letting out a whine of approval. your whole body was shaking ─ you and trevor had been arguing for past couple of weeks so your frustrations kept building up, it felt good to finally let it all out.

trevor watched your reactions closely, his dick getting impossibly harder just by your body's responses to his touch. he couldn't handle it anymore ─ he needed to fuck you, right now or he swore he was going to cum in his pants simply by you.

he removed his fingers from your sopping cunt, causing you to let out a frustrated whine. "relax, sweetheart, i'm gonna fuck you right, alright?" he spoke lustfully as he slowly removed his shorts and boxers.

trevor lined up his tip to your cunt, holding you by the hips as he slowly inserted himself. he couldn't help but let out a moan, his head falling back in pleasure at your warm sensation. your walls tightened around him as you held on to his wrist.

"trevor," you cried out in pleasure as he fully bottomed you out, holding you still by your hips. he let you adjust to his length before he started thrusting in and out of you, quickening his pace as you both relaxed into each other.

"fuck," he breathed out in pleasure as he kept slamming into you, the bed rocking with each hard thrust. he spread your legs further away and moved them upward and your mouth fell open at the new position, trevor repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

you both let out a string of loud moans as your hips kept clashing in union. trevor moved on of his hands up on the headboard, rocking it into the wall with each thrust of his hips.

trevor leaned closer to you, pressing his lips against you as he kept his pace. the familiar pressure in your lower stomach felt like it was about to snap as he kept his harsh pace.

"gonna cum," you whimpered into the kiss as he nodded, his eyes still shut clothes as he concentrated on the warm and sweet feeling of your walls.

a few deep thrusts and you came all over his cock, letting out a loud moan. trevor rode out your high and soon enough, he was finishing deep in your cunt.

you both caught your breaths, trevor falling on top of you. "sorry, baby."

"about what?"

he smiled to himself as he kissed your shoulder, "nothin', baby."

MY 100 FOLLOWER CELLY!

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

I've got a question! I know based on your blog that Ming Fan is Shen Qingqiu's senior disciple, but does that mean he was the first disciple Shen Qingqiu accepted period, or that he was the first one Shen Qingqiu promoted to inner disciple? I don't recall any mention of inner vs outer disciples prior to the Airplane extras, so I'm a bit unclear on how that might related to the position of senior disciple.

Sorta related, but do you think there may still have been other young disciples on the peak, that were selected by the previous peak lord, when Shen Qingqiu took over? I'm uncertain if the peak lords would stop selecting new disciples in anticipation of their ascension, or they would continue to select them as usual.

I suppose they could do something like bringing their designated successors along with them to the selections, then making their choices with said successor's input. Or perhaps it's entirely up to the peak lord, with some continuing to make selections on their own, others allowing their successors to advise them, and still others no longer accepting disciples (plus Bai Zhan continuing to do it's own thing, where nobody is selected, but anyone can climb the mountain and join).

At this point, I'm seriously considering making an "Explaining Canon" post about the workings and rankings of CQM as far as we know, including the different types of disciples, acceptance policies, etc. because it can get pretty confusing, and there are a lot of gaps in what canon tells us that can sometimes be filled via genre convention, but other times it's a toss-up/entirely up to interpretation. SVSSS kind of plays fast and loose with worldbuilding in general, and we already know that PIDW does too, so it does sort of make sense but at the same time it can be so confusing for fic writers!

This got long so, answer below the cut:

Ming Fan being Senior Disciple means that he is currently the most senior of Shen Qingqiu's personal disciples/Qing Jing Peak's inner disciples (for CQM, I believe those terms are somewhat interchangeable but I'll explain them more in another post). It doesn't mean he was the very first one Shen Qingqiu took-- though he was probably one of the first. We do know that SQQ has driven disciples off the peak before, so it's possible that Ming Fan had a shixiong or two that are no longer present, but it's also equally likely that he was, in fact, the first inner disciple. As for a promotion, disciples don't have to start as outer disciple and then become inner disciple-- that was SQH's situation, but Luo Binghe seems to be an inner/personal disciple from when he was first selected. My interpretation is that inner disciples are those personally selected by the peak lord, while outer disciples are either those selected by other members of the PL's generation, or those who asked to be taken into the peak and were accepted, but not actually chosen themselves. Different peaks might also have different admission policies-- perhaps An Ding Peak accepts a larger amount of outer disciples due to the manpower required, while Qing Jing Peak's ranks may be thinner. This, of course, is all just speculation-- there are plenty of possible explanations, since canon doesn't give us much to go off of in this sort of thing.

We do know that there are disciples of the PLs' generation on the mountain, with a specific example being Bai Zhan's Ji Jue, but there's nothing to say when the former generation stopped accepting disciples. It is common in xianxia, though, for a master to close their gates and stop accepting disciples altogether-- oftentimes the 关门弟子 character type I discussed here can be an exception to this, taken in after the master has normally stopped accepting disciples. My guess is that, most likely, a peak lord would stop taking young personal disciples before ascension, but there's nothing to say distinctly one way or another. Personally, though, I think it highly likely that Shen Qingqiu was also 关门弟子, and there were no others accepted after him, but that's just my headcanon.

For QJP specifically, we don't see any members aside from SQQ and his direct disciples. This doesn't necessarily mean there are no others, as we know that SQQ was not the only member of the peak when he became PL, but QJP also may be a fairly small peak, and SQQ's shixiong may have decided to leave or go often travelling after he became peak lord-- otherwise, there are other members of the peak and their disciples, we just never meet any of them in SVSSS and they are not mentioned.

I wouldn't be surprised if successors went along to the selection, perhaps even selecting their first disciples before the former generation's ascension-- this would occur once the former generation had officially closed their gates and stopped accepting disciples, passing the lineage on to their successors. It also wouldn't be surprising for successors to simply attend the selection in order to observe it. We do know that Cang Qiong holds a recruitment once every year-- so there is some way for new disciples to get onto the peak, whether it is the successors taking their own, or other members of the current leadership generation, or outer disciples being accepted without a specific master.

Ultimately, I think that CQM's Peak Lords have a lot of freedom in how they run their peaks, including how they select disciples, when they close their gates, etc. CQM really does seem, a lot of times, to be more like twelve individual small sects rolled up into one, instead of one fully cohesive unit with policies and customs uniform across the peaks. At the end of the day, we don't have very much canonical worldbuilding, so a lot of things are up for interpretation when writing fics.

If you want some ideas on how things might be run, feel free to take ideas from other xianxia/wuxia novels-- for example, Tai Sui by priest and Zhu Xian by Xiao Ding both have fairly comprehensive political/sect worldbuilding, where MXTX's worldbuilding is a bit more loose/only made note of when specifically relevant to the plot, which is more closely focused on relationships between characters.

In the end, I would absolutely love to have more canon information regarding Cang Qiong's disciple selection, and sect rules and demographics in general, as well as more about the ascension of peak lords and transfer of power... sadly, it seems we will have to forever make do with headcanons.

[xatsperesso]

What if the boys know mc before going to rad?

It was 3 AM

Of course it was 3 am

I was just in the kitchen making myself a sandwich to avoid the existential crisis that's waiting to happen

And i do my lil-not-safe-around-knives-habit of closing my eyes and kinda doing things blindly when im tired. Then i saw a flash of light through my closed eyelids

That was the first time.

I open my eyes quickly and immediately see a chest

That is not my fluffy white cat's chest. That's a man

My eyes squint at the chest in front of me before looking for the head. It was fluffy orange head staring at my plate. The sandwich i blindly made using way too much cheese, pickles and tomatoes even though i dont like tomatoes.

I give the guy my sandwich

He smiles at me, gulps it then disappears

I really need to sleep. It's not funny anymore

--

The second time it's happened I was lounging in my living room enjoying a lazy day with my cat. Just scrolling through the tv, trying to find anything-

Ahem

I whip my head around and see green impatient eyes looking down at me.

"Did you summon me here to just stare or do you have a reason?" He glares at me

I stare back

He starts getting angry

I raise my cat's head as a peace offering

He looks at the cat, no anger could be seen and starts to pet it. I imagined the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Is that all?" I nod

"You're sacrificing this cat to me?" I pull my cat closer, profusely shaking my head.

He looks annoyed but he disappears like the first one

This isn't a one time thing

Dammit, i need to deal with this

--

It's taken me a couple of sleepless nights and endless research, but that's probably what i need to do.

I light the candles around the scripts, try my best to pronounce the words correctly, and wait as smoke encases the room.

"You are in the presence of The Great Solomon. Tell me, young sorcerer, why-" i grab his black robe and stare dead in his eyes

"Is talking to demons dangerous?? Will they steal my voice???" I ask as my voice wobbles, tears threatening to fall

"It's just that last time he was talking to me and i was afraid cause this has never happened to me before but it felt so rude not to answer when he started asking me and it was like he was judging me and-"

"Woah woah, calm down! Demons cant steal voices unless it's in the contract" I stare at his awkward, uncomfortable smile trying to find any signs of lies

"Thank fuck" I let out the hugest sigh of relief, and let go of the sorcerer "I sorry, this has been stressing me out but i shouldn't have grabbed you like that. Tea?"

"Yes, thank you, and it’s alright. This is why i made it possible for magicians to summon me. I take it that you've been summoning demons lately?"

"Nah, they just sorta appear out of nowhere"

He blinks at me

I blink at him

"What-"

--

I was engrossed in the horror movie. The music was getting louder. They were hiding from the it. they were running. One of them tripped cause of course they have to trip. The music is so loud now. They barely manage to hide-

"I, THE GREAT MAM-" I scream so loud the white haired demon gets startled.

"O-OI! What’s yo de-" screams from the tv interrupts him as the character got dragged by that-that thing and it started torturing them for fun-

Lots of screams, huddles, and complaints were heard that day

--

"Gosh, i wish they weren't so busy today" I sighed as i continued playing mario carts alone "i really wanna kick someone's ass"

Just say the word and god will deliver

The light appeared once again, and out came a blue haired demon and-ohmylord is that a tail!

Thank whoever keeps summoning them, now my boredom will cease to exist

"Ugh, why did you have to summon me now, normie"

...Ya know, maybe im not that bored

Still, i pick the extra controller and toss it at him. He caught it with his tail (damn i want a tail)

"Wha-! Don't just throw controllers-"

"Wanna play? I bet I'm gonna win"

The demon stared at me for a second, looked at the tv to see the mario cart game. He seemed tempted

"Tch, I'm not gonna lose to some normie" he plopped down besides me and chose a character

...I'm gonna decimate him

--

"Hah! Noob"

"Shut up! You must be cheating!"

--

My cat gave me something

This was the first time

I was not ready

A red-head suddenly appeared in the living room

He looked mildly confused, but was smiling nonetheless. He looked ready to say something, probably cheerful.

I burst out crying

That made him panic, and that's probably when he noticed the blood in my hands

My cat gave me a headless bird, and that left me shaken

Somehow, he ended up cradling my hysteric form as i cried

After i calmed down and thanked him for trying to comfort me, he said it was nothing and left

He looked very confused the whole time

--

Halloween was around the corner, and i decided I'm aiming for traumatizing people.

i took out my make-up, pulled up a 5 minutes craft video, and tried my best to imitate.

turns out im very good at make-up. it looked like someone cut up my face and blood was oozing out!

of course, a demon had to show up now of all times

i look at the light, and the demon comes out of it twirling like a ballerina.

he seems like a weird guy

"You've summoned me, Asmo-oh my! you're hurt. sorry, but I'm not really fit for this kind of things" he said, eyeing me up and down "unless you have a good payment for it~"

"...ignoring that, I'm not actually hurt. This is just make-up!"

"Oooh! That is pretty good, would fooled anyone! but it's not cute at all. let me show you how to look hella cute" he comes close, nabbing a make-up sponge out of nowhere

"W-wait! I'm doing this for halloween!! I want to look scary!" He grabs the makeup remover and grabs my face

"C'mon, sweetheart, scary is overrated! Just let Asmodeus take care of it~"

--

Once again, it is 3 am. I need a better sleeping schedule.

I'm in the kitchen making some hot chocolate, when he came. In all his grumpy glory holding a pillow.

"Dammit, what the fuck do you want, human"

Oh

His voice was laced with malice

His eyes stared me down with hatred

He was murderous

I need to be careful around this one

...but

It's 3 am. I'm tired. Too tired to deal with this shit.

I return to my hot chocolate on the stove "want some hot coaco?" He squinted at me, warily

Fair. I'm a stranger after all

"What kind of ploy-"

"Just hot chocolate" i grab more milk, more choco. Maybe I'll add more marshmallows too "I'm planning to drink some at the roof. The stars look bright tonight. Wanna join?"

He was still untrutsful, he was still wary, but when i put a cup im front of him and headed upstairs, he followed.

He just sat quietly, i tried my best to not look at him a lot, try making him feel safe.

It was nice. We didn't talk, we stayed far away from each other. He left his cup for me to clean.

But it was nice

--

Shit shit shitshitshitshi-

That's all i can think of as i scramble to get on top of the table. Im so not fit for this

A light, my savior, appeared leaving behind green haired demon

Yes, he's gonna-and he's already on top of the fridge, staring in fear

"WHAT Are you doing?!" I screamed cause what the fuck??

"You must have Misunderstood something. I am not to be summoned for such things"

"... WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT OF YOU HAVING ALL THIS DEMONIC POWERS IF YOU'RE SCARED OF A FUCKING RAT"

"May I remind you that you too-"

Meow

"*Gasp*, Satan!" I yelled in relief as my fluffy hero came and chased the mouse out of the room

"Pfft"

"You got a problem with my kitty?" I grumbled, getting off the table on shaky legs to get tan-tan, my hero, some treats and cuddles

Unlike a certain someone who's still on top of the fridge

"Not at all, it just reminds me of someone" he hopped off the fridge and came to give my kitty a few pet

I smiled. Seems like demons like cats.

Or maybe satan is a demon cat

"if that's all, i will be going then. I still have duties to finish"

And just like that, he vanished.

Squeak

Oh. Right.

The mouse is still in the house somewhere

--

Alright, time to work

I'm sitting cross-legged, tablet on my thighs, stylus in my hand and trying figure out how hair works

"Ah. Where...am i?" He asks, looking very confused

A bright light, much brighter than any other appeared, and the person who came out of it seemed to glow

That's a first

"You're in my house. You don’t..look like a demon?? Sorry if that..offends you?"

"Don't worry, I'm not offended at all" he waved his hand dismissively "I'm not a demon, though. I'm an angel. Were you trying to summon a demon?"

"No, they actually just suddenly appear around me. I didn't know this could happen to an angel"

"Well, i didn't know an angel could be summoned" he looked kinda dazed

Im not sure what to do

"Are you..okay?" He looked at me for a moment, a soft smile plastered on his face

"No"

"...do you, want to drink something? I could fix you some coffee"

"Yes, that would be delightful. Thank you" he slowly dropped to the ground, staring at a spot on the wall

It was very awkward until he realised he could just leave

I think he's got an existential crisis to deal with

--

This time I didn’t see a bright light, i heard a 10 year-old scream

I ran out of the kitchen, an egg still in my hand to see who the fuck is screaming in my living room

Lo and behold, it was a 10 year old

"Wh-where am i?! Why am i here?! Did-did you do this??!" The kid was near tears at that point

"Hey, hey hey, calm down" i slowly drop to my knees "it's alright, buddy. i know suddenly being transported here is very scary. Is this your first time?"

"Alright, thank you for telling me," he's glowing like the other angel. An angel too? "You're in my house right now. Do you know how to do magic? Like teleports and stuff? So you can get back home?"

"Y-yes" he's still near tears. He’s also far away from me, untrusting, but he's not screaming. I call that a success

He sniffs, then lowers the arms that were shielding him

"No, b-but I'm sure simeon will know that I'm here and will come get me!"

"That's great! But it might take him a while to figure out where you are. Do you wanna help me make some cupcakes until then? You'll of course take some home with you" he brightened up at that. So cute

"Y-yes! What kind of cupcakes are we making? Is that the kitchen? I happen to have these ingredients that are from the celestial realm and will make the cupcakes taste better!"

I smiled as i entered the kitchen behind him. He's so cute

"Seems like you know how to bake"

"Of course! I love baking things, and all the angels say that my baking is good! Don't worry, with me here your cupcakes will be the best cupcakes you've ever tasted! Simeon says that-" and like that he's taken over my batter and started adding stuff to it, only needing my assistance when something is on a higher shelf

An hour later, the same angel from before ("Simeon, look! We made cupcakes! Want one?) Came and took the lil' guy ("what's your name? I'm luke!") Away, promising him that he can have more play dates with me when I'm free

The guy, Simeon, looked like ge has yet to recover from his existential crisis

--

And just like that, the demons and angels kept being coming

"Oi, you will not believe how much money this scheme got me-"

And going

"Sorryy, but i gotta go now. How about we go to that centre next time?"

They kept coming with their antics

"Hah! Noob"

"At least not a normie anymore"

With their surprises

"What do you mean you're the prince of devildom? How the fuck do you keep ending up here?? Aren't you supposed to be the hardest to summon???"

With their favors

"MC! I am so happy i got here I've just found a new recipe in this book can we try it??"

With their worries

"My twin has been acting weird. He’s less objecting of lucifers plans, but its..very strange? and of coming out of nowhere"

Some still get shaken whenever they come

"Oh. I'm here again. I, thought it was gonna be that one time. Ha ha."

"...how about you sit down. On the couch this time"

And some decide to leave the second they see my face

"Oh, my apologies, but i must-"

"You will sit your ass down and you will drink the tea i make you or i swear i will-"

...Some have found out my address and just decided to make my house theirs

"Hey, apprentice! How about we learn how to-"

"Solomon, we've trained for 5 damn hours yesterday. I'm not uttering a single spell until I, at the very least, eat some damned breakfast"

I started learning more about them

"You named your cat after me?!"

"Your name is satan?!"

I started seeing them grow more comfortable around me

"I don't like humans, but, maybe not all humans are bad"

"...that sound kinda racist-"

"You know what I mean"

Months passed by, and I'm pretty sure i became close with all of them

Until the unimaginable happened

I got summoned

In a flash of light, i was somewhere else wearing different clothes(do their clothes also change?) I looked around to see-

"Guys!!" I screamed happily, it's always fun being around them

"MC!!" They screamed, their enthusiasm matching mine, but they all suddenly froze

"Wait, you know mc??" They turned to each other very confused, and suddenly questions were thrown, their voices growing louder and louder, and im just looking at them contemplating whether to break up the fight that will inevitably star-

"Silence!" A black haired demon suddenly yelled, and everyone stopped yelling "how do you all know of this human?"

Everyone stared at him, gears turning in their minds.

"LoL, Lucifer's the only one who doesn't MC"

They all joined forces (except for beel, the sweetheart) to tease black hair( Lucifer?) Over not being summoned before

"...are they always this loud?" I turn to Barbatos, who's looking very amused

"Yes, they've always been like this"

"Did you really never meet Lucifer, mc?"

"Ive heard of him. They always complain about him, especially satan and belphie"

"Well, worry not! I'd be more than glad to tell you all about Lucifer! I know the most about him, as he's my right hand man after all"

"...I thought you were talking about Barbs, your literal butler. The same guy who's taken care of since you were a baby" i heard a sigh from the greenette beside me

"One can only dream"

-- *bonus*

Knock knock

I looked at the door tiredly. Why would they willingly come to me at 1 am

still, I get up to open the door, and behind it was no other than Lucifer.

Weird, i could've sworn he was trying to avoid me all day

"Ahem, i apologise for disturbing you at this late hour. May i talk to you for a moment?" I let him into my room, then plop myself on one of the cushions on the floor.

He looked at me hesitantly

"You dont have to sit on the floor. There are chairs over there if you want" i say, but he shakes his head. He then attempts to, very awkwardly, sit on a cushion on the floor

Alright then

"So, what do you want to talk about" he looks out of his depth. Like he doesn't know what to say

Fair. No one knows how to talk properly at 1 am, and he looks like he'd rather get a seizure than talk in anything less than formal.

So I just accepted that this might take a while, and started playing with a rubiks cube satan gave me

I hate this cube

After a long moment of lucifer staring at me, he sighed

"I heard that you're the reason belphegor's..views on humans have changed"

"I guess that's what happened? I'm not really sure I'm the reason though. All I've done is give him some drinks or food, lend him my bed and occasionally talk to him. I didn't even try to change anything" i scratched my neck. This is somehow more awkward than Simeon's first visit

"Nonetheless, you were a big reason for what my brother's change, and I've noticed some changes in my other siblings. Positive changes."

"Well, it's nice knowing that I'm a good influence?" I really want him to just get over it. It's late and he's in my room and it's just very awkward

He looks at me for a moment, open his mouth to say-

"For fuck’s sake, Lucifer, just thank them already"

"Belphie! What are you doing in the exchange student's bed?" He asks very accusatory, as if he's not in the 'exchange student's' room so late into the night

"He’s been passed out there since dinner"

"And where were you planning on sleeping tonight" that's a trick question that i know the answer to

"LoL what's sleep" and i instantly regret saying that. That was not the right answer. His face is screaming it

"Just stay out of trouble, human" he gets up and goes to leave the room

He stops at the door way, and looks me in the eye

"Continue being a good influence on my brothers" then he closed the door behind him

"Don't worry," belphie yawns in his pillow " he's just like that. I'm sure you're be able to turn him around"

"Just make sure not to capture his heart too" he mumbled as he went back into deep slumber

Hah. Don't worry belphie

There's no way someone could like me in that way

I continue tinkering with the cube, solving it a couple of time, forget how to solve the xube and get frustrated, and before I knew it the sun was up again

Another day of trying to survive the boys' shenanigans

And I cant help but smile at that

[cupcakeslushie]

Okay. I've been tip-toeing around this AU for a while now, but I just got caught up, and now I think I have a (decent) grasp on what's going on. So I wanna go over everything I know so far to see if I'm right or wrong on anything. Don't know if you'd be willing to correct me or not. Either way, I hope my mistakes can help you understand what to clarify to other fans like me. But, I also have some questions. You probably won't be able to answer most of them, but it's at least worth a shot.

First, where's Venus? Like, why is she not in your comics that are (sort of) separate frome the canon now story. The ones that skip to the future way after all the turtles reunite. Did she die? Did she escape? Is it because she wasn't introduced yet when you made those comics?

Two, why do you keep on making references to the future timeline? I know you're planning on possibly making your own stuff leading up to the events of the movie. It just gives me a jumpscare when I see certain...imagery in those comics. I guess you're hinting at what your version of the future apocalypse would look like, but it just hurts to see. Specifically in the comic explaining both the events and aftermath of the movie and the bad future timeline. It's starting to really confuse my brain as to where this story is headed. What's meant to be the main focus? The Hamto's reuniting? The aftermath? Or the future?

Third, did you make all those min-comics before you started the actual AU? Or did you do them during?

Fourth, are any of those mini-comics relevant to the actual story now? Or have you changed your mind on a few things? It's just that everything is so all over the place, I don't really know whether to trust if they're accurate. I know most of them are just there for funzies, but the longer ones concern me. I guess I'm just not used to the storyteller doing sequel, start, prequel, start, sequel, prequel, prequel, sequel, and then end. Or maybe it's just me, and I'm sleep deprived.

My little observation speech is gonna take a while for me to get out in your asks because when I get theoretical, my speech gets long, and my proper English goes down the drain. So I'll be back. I appreciate your work very much. Despite the pain it causes me, it's still amazing.

I’ll try my best to clear up what confusion I can!

1. As far as Venus. The answer is kind of a mix of, I was still figuring out her design and backstory while coming out with some of those early comics, and then, once I had that down, I wanted the boys to grow strong bonds as a main cast. That’s why a lot of the side characters are only making small appearances in the Sep!AU Life stories, as those are mainly for the boys reconnecting. (Usagi shows up the most because I love him and am totally biased towards him).

This maybe hasn’t been stated outright, but I wasn’t really expecting so many ppl to like Vee as much as they do, and now im trying not to spoil too much of her story. It’ll unfortunately just take us a while to get to the meat of it. Since the boys reconnecting takes up a lot of the early s1s2 story, Im trying to follow the familiar Rise blueprint of Draxum, Shredder, Krang, and then in s3 we’ll have crazy fun new stories with the extra characters.

Ive also decided to take this little nugget from one of the Q&As, and use it for Venus instead of Jennika. It was a much needed bit of inspiration to explain why Venus sorta disappears for a while and will go through some major physical changes (not yet revealed) before the family can figure out a way to reach her.

2. I’m not sure if you mean jump scared in a bad/triggering or neutral way, but if you need me to tag anything on those posts please let me know!

The glimpses of the future timeline, are being scattered throughout wherever they parallel the present story in little ways, but that’s only for now. As we get closer to the movie plot, bigger chunks of the future will be revealed, because the future versions of the boys will have a larger role to play in the present timeline. So we will need more backstory than what the canon got. And also I just enjoy drawing my future versions so sometimes I don’t think too hard on a reason. I just like throwing them at ppl with no warning or reason.

When s2 ends, I plan on collecting all the future related stuff that’s been released, and recapping it for easier reading. Right now, it’s just little sprinkles of foreshadowing to give ppl an idea that, ‘oh crap. The doomed timeline is a bummer’. In my mind, I guess i thought it’d be kinda like a fun scavenger hunt for clues, but maybe ppl don’t like that 😅

3. All of the side-stories were written as the main comic was/is being released. A lot of them resulted from asks that just spawned the need to expand on certain ideas, or a desire to give all the turtles their time to shine.

For instance, when I was doing Donnie’s section of the main comic, it was a good few months where we hardly saw anyone but him and Venus. I wanted to just mix it up, and give Raph some love with his ‘Raph Time’ short. When Leo was front and center in the main, we hardly saw the others, so Mikey and Donnie got their little ‘Secrets’ short (and it was also I fun thank you for EW making it so far in the tmnt sep competition).

4. Anything that has been reworked/revised or just plain dropped should have an ‘Edit’ note because yes—I have gone back and changed some things, but more so from the asks i got in the early days, and some movie idea drafts.

All the short comics done in the last year, especially the ones that are listed in my pinned post, are canon and fall somewhere in the timeline. They’re like supplemental reading though—extra meat to give the world and the characters more personality. They do have particular backstory plot and important info in them, but nothing that shouldn’t eventually be re-visited/repeated in the main story.

um I hope that cleared up some things! I know it’s kind of a crazy amount of lore. I’ve tried my best to organize it in the pinned post, huge timeline, and search bar tags, but I know it’s getting harder and harder for newer ppl to jump in as it just get bigger. Thanks for reading regardless!