#i'm really enjoying putting document text on these

[knifefightandchill]

RESIDENT EVIL 4 (2023)

"His ability soon attracted the master's interest. And when he took him to the dungeon— No, I can't write anymore. I don't want to recall what happened down there. "

[tswwwit]

Cipher's Personal Portable Portal

'How they meet' won the poll!

So just to make things fully contextualized, as far as they're gonna be - here's the full first chunk of this stupidly long fic I'm writing.

I hope you enjoy!

Standing in the wreckage of the burnt-out building, Dipper wishes he didn’t know who did it.

Anyone else would have left some trace sign. A scrape of blood, a hint of burnt hair. A friggin’ decent eyewitness report, even.

But here, like last time, and the time before that, and the time before that - there's absolutely zero traces. No video footage, nobody around at the time of the crime. Not even footprints.

Dipper kicks one of the remaining supports, sending a puff of charcoal up from the impact. 

If he knew the bastard’s name, he’d curse it all to hell.

With a sigh of exhaustion, Dipper sits on a chunk of scorched foundation. He pulls his shoe off to tip the ashes out of it; there’s enough that the resulting cloud leaves him coughing. 

Around him, the scoured west wing of the museum is silent, still, and empty. A grey-black skeleton of its former self, filled with dust and charcoal.

This arson is yet another one in a very, very long line of crimes. They’re not just ‘unrelated incidents’, or ‘bizarre coincidences’. Dipper’s not ‘being paranoid’ or ‘coming up with some pretty weird conspiracy theories’. 

There’s only one person who could manage this. The same guy who turned a bank upside down - literally -  and the same one who impaled a mob boss on an oversized silly straw and gave tails to half of a household last week.

It’s all connected.

Each crime is marked with the same style, mostly by how remarkably weird they are. Along with a thread of magic, distinct in its composition. One so distinctive that it's almost a flavor. Though admittedly, without certain magical analysis, it’s pretty hard to detect. 

And if other freelance magicians would take the time and look at Dipper’s notes, maybe one of them would help find this asshole.

Dipper stalks through the burned building, fists balled in his pockets. He stumbles over a fallen support column, and nearly trips before he makes a hopping retreat back. 

Though the culprit has been at his game - whatever ‘game’ that is - for a good half a year now, this is the most destructive ‘incident’ so far. Nobody was hurt, since it happened in the middle of the night. The one relief from a terrible crime, that only objects were obliterated in the process - 

But the ashes speak for themselves.

Here, there’s nothing left.

He breathes in slowly. Then regrets the attempt at calming himself as he coughs again.

Whatever the culprit’s initial motive was, it hasn’t lasted. He’s grown not only in ambition, but also in his abilities. Things are escalating at a rate Dipper doesn’t like to think about.

Someone has to get to the bottom of this. Before it’s too late. Dipper’s got his number, metaphorically speaking, so. Well, might as well be him. 

And when he proves that all of this chaos was created by the same person - 

Well. A little boost to his meager reputation couldn’t hurt. Maybe a few medals and accolades. There isn’t a trophy for best monster hunter, but he can imagine standing on a podium and -

Dipper waves that thought off, swearing under his breath. Stupid. He has better things to focus on.

He’s the only freelancer on the case. Definitely the only one taking this seriously, the only one who thinks it’s the same person to begin with -  and even he’s starting to have some doubts about ever finding the bastard. 

Six months of tracking this guy down, and what does he have to show for it? A ramshackle compilation of incidents, a vague feeling of magic, and a description that could fit any bottle-blond actor with bad fashion sense. Scraps. He might as well pin them up and connect them with red string for all the good it does him.

Another kick sends Dipper hopping back, clutching his foot with a swear. He winces at the hole in the tip, he nearly punctured his foot on a nail.

Just his luck. Wrong place, wrong time, always just barely avoiding disaster. Dipper shows up whenever there’s an event, he’s got the means to follow the guy - but he’s always just a little too late.

Even worse, lately the guy’s been picking places… not at random, exactly. More like he causes trouble wherever it’d be the most annoying to follow.

The culprit must know someone is on his trail. But he’s not making it impossible to keep up, or even majorly difficult for a determined pursuer. Just really, really irritating, like making moves at three in the morning, or pausing just long enough for someone to catch up, then heading right back where he came from. At one point Dipper had to trudge through a literal swamp, only to find that bastard had sauntered in by baking himself a neat little trail right through the damn thing. There wasn’t even footprints to follow.

It’s a repeated point in Dipper’s notes. Whoever this is, they’re a total, absolute dick.

With a sigh, Dipper runs his fingers through the ash on the museum’s floor. Not a single thing is left beyond the shattered glass of some display cases, and the charred remains of the building. Even the enchanted metal tools have been melted into slag. 

The day before yesterday, he could tell something was up. Building energy, something that felt like it was made by the culprit. Something with the twinge of a powerful curse, coiled and being wound up like a spring. 

Dipper spent that evening convincing - okay, maybe also bribing, thank you Stan for the idea - the museum to let him borrow materials. The day after that, he spent all night, morning, and most of the afternoon running around slapping up anti-curse emblems. The entire south of the city warded, in a fine careful net of spellcraft. The work was exhausting. Both in running around, and in the amount of magic he’d needed to use.

But it was worth it. That evening, in the quiet and very uncursed city, all the emblems activated. Dipper would have sworn he sensed someone in the distance, cursing his own name. That night he went to bed with a smug sense of satisfaction, floating on a cloud of triumph.

Which is probably why the bastard burned down the museum next.

With another sigh, Dipper tucks his notebook back into his knapsack. He’s gleaned all he’s going to for today; in the fading evening light, searching more is pointless.

So much for all the magical artifacts. Most of those had come in really useful in messing with the guy. 

…How the hell did the culprit know where they came from, though? He’d need a near encyclopedic knowledge of artifacts to know which ones Dipper used, then track them back to their origin. 

Or maybe he just searched on the internet. It’s hard to tell.

Dipper just wishes there were more clues. But just like every other incident, the guy up and freakin’ vanished.

No human can disappear like that without some very irresponsible use of power. That hope is one Dipper’s hanging his hat on. After six months? He has to be reaching his limits. He’ll burn himself out before he can manage too many more incidents. Maybe Dipper will find him by stumbling on his withered, dissolving corpse.

Whoever this is is pretty strong, but no power is infinite. He can’t hide forever.

It can’t be too much longer. Won’t be. Dipper has a plan, he’s gotten really close, and - He’s good at his job, damn it. He knows he is. 

Taking a deep, slow breath, Dipper lets it out. Patience is the name of the game here. He’s just gotta keep moving.

One day, he’s going to catch up with that bastard. He’ll see the guy in the flesh. Then he’ll grab that stupid dick before he can escape, again, and wipe that presumably smug look off his probably ugly face.

Turning around one last time, Dipper surveys the destruction, stuffs his hands in his pockets - and pauses. 

A speck of light glints in the pile of ash. The last bit of evening sun, shining off a metallic surface.

Alert with surprise, Dipper scrambles over to the pile. Kneeling down, he brushes the dust carefully aside, careful not to disturb anything fragile that might shatter if handled wrong. 

One thing did survive. Thank fuck, it’s not an absolute total loss. Just, uh… Ninety-nine percent of it.

He scuffles through the still-warm ashes, cupping his palms underneath the lump and lifting it from its bed. The motion sends white puff rising up as ash slips away from the artifact.

A small black, squarish thing rests on the pile, a bit larger than both his palms put together. The material is faintly warm from residual heat, insulated by the ash it laid in - and there’s not a mark on it. Not even a scratch. 

Dipper turns the artifact over in his hands with a frown. The shining black surface reveals no obvious buttons or secrets. Just a kind of phone-ish shape, though more square and squat. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say a guest dropped it on the rush to escape. 

The fact that it’s still intact though. Nearly glowing with magic, a tremulous feeling under his palms - this is not dropped by some clumsy tourist. Not even Ford could put this together.

 Wiping at the object with his sleeve, Dipper manages to clean off most of the smooth surface. On one of the sides, dust clings to the thinnest of engravings. The very faint outline of an equilateral triangle. No runes or other magical scribing, just… a shape.

Dipper thinks back but - no, he doesn’t remember seeing this in the collection. A quick check online reveals…

Basically nothing. There are - were - a bunch of stone and metal slabs in the archives, all described so poorly as to be useless. Some are even bunched up in groups. ‘Magical slab 1-24’ and ‘Metal artifact 1-78’, no description involved.

Not surprising. Probably dug up in some mass excavation site, transported here, then never really looked at again. The bulk nature of the shipment means it was overlooked, its magical properties never discovered.

After today, he’s just glad that even one item escaped this onslaught. 

The other artifacts must not have had much to them. But some magical property in this artifact’s making must have saved it from the blaze. Fireproofing, perhaps? Against weird fire? That’s unusual. Maybe even unique.

As the only survivor, it really needs investigating. 

Dipper glances over his shoulder, then around. With everyone evacuated, it’s quiet in the rubble. Nobody here would notice if, say… a clue wandered off.

The artifact slips easily into his pocket. The shape conveniently looks just like a phone, even if the shape’s a bit off. Not something that would attract any attention.

Whistling nonchalantly, ducking out of the way of local law enforcement and any onlookers - Dipper makes his escape. 

Another day of pursuit. Another scene of disaster, the culprit there and gone in the blink of an eye. 

He’ll be up to something new, next. Never the same thing twice, never in the same place. 

Dipper will follow in his evil tracks, of course. But for tonight - his fate is another crappy hotel room. 

He ditches his backpack by the door, slumping against the wall and its chipped paint. He could start going through his notes, and the pictures of the arson. Put in more work, find further connections - 

But it’s been a long day, and he’s tired. He might be magical, but he’s only got so much to work with. A reasonable night’s sleep, if he can manage, will make the task loom less horribly over his tired brain.

With a sigh, he drops back on the mattress. There’s some bounce to it, springs squeaking like they’re full of mice. Hell, maybe they are. The type of room he can afford isn’t exactly decadent.

That, though, should be temporary. Dipper’s career is only just starting; freelancers in the ‘solving magical problems’ scene don’t get great rates. Especially as a beginner. Definitely without a partner; it makes him look super young. Like he’s just starting out, fresh-faced and not having any inroads.

Because this field is really stupid, and doesn’t pay attention to results. Dipper’s been fine on his own for years, and he’s done really cool things without that ‘networking’ crap. 

All by himself. Totally cool with that, because Dipper’s a cool guy, sometimes. If Mabel hypes him up enough on one of their phone calls, he almost believes it too.

Though it would be nice to have some backup, it’s hard to find someone who really gets the job. Or does it in the way that Dipper goes about it. The number of people who are willing to take long treks in hyper-magical territory to search for an obscure clue, or set up really complicated traps for  dangerous monsters, or talk over high-level magical theory while sitting in the rain all night just to get one body-snatcher are…

Well, besides Ford, who recently retired, there aren’t any. Only Dipper himself.

One day, things are going to change for him. All his effort will pay off. If he keeps solving mysteries, and fighting monsters, he’ll forge a reputation as someone who always gets the job done. No matter how hard it is, he can handle it. The work is picking up, too. The last six months have shown the biggest series of magical incidents in decades. 

And he’s gonna be the one to get to the bottom of it.

Dipper Pines, the guy who proved it’s all connected. He’ll have it laid out in facts and math, all the evidence. They’re all gonna see that he was totally right.

Once he finally gets this guy, everything’s going to start looking up. 

The sheets rustle as Dipper settles back, holding the artifact up over himself. He stares into the black surface, and a slightly distorted reflection narrows its eyes back at him. 

A good mystery always intrigues him. This one should take his mind off the other, irritating one for a while.

The only remaining object from the fire is clean and smooth. A mysterious creation, of unknown purpose. Clearly riddled with magic, too; Dipper feels it running just under the surface like a rapid current. It gives the artifact a weight that has nothing to do with mass. 

Power.

Did the criminal see this artifact, still intact after all the other magical objects were gone? Did he try to destroy it too, and fail? Or simply not notice he’d missed one out of thousands?

Whatever it is, it’s got a lot more going on than meets the eye.

Dipper casts a quick identifier, which comes back with nothing. He’s not surprised. That’s the first thing anyone would try. If it was that simple, he’d already have the full description off the site. 

With a shrug, he traces another set of runes, his own version, adding a little more oomph behind it - 

And the magic leaps back instantly, with the bizarre sensation of a bouncy ball hitting concrete.

“Huh,” Dipper says, thoughtfully. He sits up, hunching over the slab in his hands. “Now that’s new.”

A more subtle approach, then. Tracing the lines of energy with the barest brush of magic upon magic reveals something deeply complex. Thin layers twist together deep under the surface, building an entire circulatory system. Dipper has to put it down for a moment, suddenly worried that it is organic. 

When a cautious prod doesn’t get a response, he relaxes. Not fleshy, just complicated. Which also proves he was right earlier - the artifact’s just as powerful as he’d thought. The spellcraft is unlike anything he’s ever seen. 

Dipper rubs his hands together, starting to smile. 

Even if he doesn’t find the guy he’s after, figuring this out could be a heck of a win.

Several attempts later, he’s beginning to get why this bastard brick got tossed in with all the other junk. 

Nothing here is working. It simply deflects. Standard spells poing off of it like rubber, while giving his magical senses an odd, back-of-the brain afterimage of a circle with a slash through it; a firm ‘nah’. 

Dipper nearly chucks the thing across the room in frustration, before shutting his eyes and taking several, calming breaths. 

Okay, weird thing, weird enchantment. The ordinary stuff won’t work. The magical logic is… twisted in a way that leaves it incompatible with most everything. He’ll have to find a different approach. 

“What are you?” Dipper says, low and frustrated. He gives the artifact a shake, as if he can knock the secrets out like a rock from a shoe. “What secrets are you hiding in there?” 

No response, not that he expected one. With a wry smile, he taps the sleek surface with a finger, twice. “C’mon, man. Talk to me.” 

Huge yellow letters flash onto the black surface. 

HEY

Dipper throws the artifact, a bit awkwardly since he’s lying on his back. It sails in the air in a high thin arc, landing with a thump between his legs. He scoots rapidly backward, sheets pulling up behind him. 

The artifact lies where it landed, an unmoving brick.  There’s magic in the air now, but no sense of any spell building, ready to unleash power to blow his face off. The latent spellcraft of the artifact has just been activated.

More text displays on the surface, bare except for the glowing letters. 

To the jerk that’s swiped my private stuff: You got some nerve! I expect this back by interdimensional mail in a week, or trust me - there will be consequences.

Dipper waits a full minute before he lets go of the headboard. Tentatively, he kneels near the…

 Is this a phone? 

Clearly it’s a communication device of some sort, with the freaking text messages. A phone is the obvious equivalent, only - he thought it looked far older than that, something way before mobile phones. Possible ancient. Is that a coincidence, maybe, or is it secretly modern?

Dipper taps the ‘screen’, just below the glowing words. To his surprise, there’s actually a keyboard, what the hell. This thing keeps getting weirder.

Since it hasn’t already thrown a horrible curse at him, or burst into flames - it’s reasonably safe to assume that it’s simply ‘on’. Not ‘explosive’. 

With hands that are definitely not shaking, he picks it up, and types,

Who is this? 

His own text pops up in blue. A strange contrast to the yellow, but he’s guessing it’s for convenience - there’s no bubbles to tell who’s said what otherwise.

A few seconds of nervous waiting later, there’s a response. 

Oh hey, you answered! Well, human - You’re talking to the one and only Bill Cipher, Dream Demon, all-powerful master of the Mindscape! I’d say it’s nice to meet ya but you’re not supposed to have a direct line to me!

Dipper raises an eyebrow. 

Now that’s one hell of an introduction. It might even have been interesting, if it didn’t smell of complete bullshit. 

Complicated spellwork, sure. Incomprehensible architecture? Maybe. Dipper can admit it; he’s never seen anything with a web of spells on it this complex, in such small of a package.

But the idea that Dipper just stumbled onto a demonic artifact of all things. One that wasn’t instantly detected, recorded, then ritually destroyed is…

Someone’s fucking with him. 

Dipper rolls his eyes as he types back,

Really? Demon? You can’t expect me to believe that. 

What, you calling me a liar? ‘Cause I am, but not about this! I got better things to mislead mortals about. This is my property, not something for your grubby mortal mitts.

Dipper snorts. Guess this person’s sticking with the bit. Obviously whoever created this would want it back - but too bad. Whether they’re delusional, stupid, or just a flat-out liar, they’re really good at enchanting. It’d be a waste not to study their work. 

He lies back on the bed as he replies.

Sure, have fun roleplaying, or whatever, it doesn’t make a difference. Finders keepers, losers weepers.

ARE YOU CALLING ME A LOSER. MORTAL.

Hmm, I’m detecting a certain amount of ‘crying about it’, so. Yeah. Suck it, loser.

Smirking, Dipper settles back - then his half-smile drops, as he holds the ‘phone’ a little further away from himself. 

Though the blue fire building up in the screen looks like a bad sticker effect, the artifact’s also getting a alarmingly warm. It vibrates in his hands - then suddenly stops, cooling down. 

Ha! Alright, alright, I admit - you got some balls.

Maybe you’ll change your tune once you REALLY know what you’re dealing with! Might wanna check the connection, if you’re even capable of it! Mortal magic doesn’t reach across dimensions!

With a grimace, Dipper taps his fingers on the phone. It’s slightly cooler now, but still worryingly reactive to… whatever happened on the other end. 

Damn. Whoever this is, they’re not only really really good at enchanting, they’re also pretty confident that tracking them down won’t spoil their game. The confidence exuding from this ‘Bill’s’ words feels genuine.

Honestly, though, the suggestion is a good one. Dipper should have tried to trace the call the second he knew someone else was on the line. 

Maybe ‘Bill’ thinks he won’t manage to find him. Joke’s on him, though; Dipper’s amazing at finding stuff. He’s the best tracker of magical anything in years. Maybe decades. With a solid, stable connection right in front of him? Hell, he could do this one in his sleep. 

Time to call the bluff.

He casts the tracing spell, though it takes longer than usual. A few gestures and muttered ritual aren’t gonna cut it; he has to improvise around the strange construction of the enchantment. Even trailing along the magic seems harder than usual, like it resists mixing with his own, and it takes him a few attempts to match the signal. 

Once he finds the right way to tune it… the lead snaps along the already-existing connection, and zips away to find its source.

The line extends out from the shabby hotel room, a plucked string in Dipper’s senses. It twists around the phone, rising slowly. Invisibly passing through the walls and the - 

Ceiling? Dipper looks up on instinct, even though nothing is visible.

From there it swirls around in the air like a silly straw on steroids, and then - out, very far, in a way that isn’t up or down or left or right, just  

Away.

Dipper has to cut off the tracing spell before vertigo has him reeling. The swirling sense of standing on top of a skyscraper is followed by a flip in his stomach. That he’s using a device he barely understands that reaches out into something even more incomprehensible.

He drops the phone-artifact, trying to clear his head by shaking it rapidly. 

That’s not nearby. Not on this planet. Possibly, genuinely, not even in this dimension. 

Shit. Bill wasn’t bluffing.

Dipper wipes sweating palms on the sheets. To pick up the phone again takes an effort, willing himself to grasp it in unsteady hands.

A demon. 

All the monsters he’s fought, curses he’s broken, years of work tucked into his belt, and he’s never seen one of those. 

Demons are dangerous, evil, and very, very powerful. Consorting with them is by all accounts a terrible idea. He should never have picked this up. He should hang up, and throw the damn artifact out the window, hoping that nobody else makes as dumb a mistake as he just did. 

On the screen, there’s a long long scroll of yellow letters, filling the entire surface. ‘HA HA HA HA’ over and over and over again. 

Before he can think better of it, Dipper starts a response. He’s halfway through a sentence - what the fuck, that’s not funny- before he pauses.

Terrible evil monster. Stupid powerful. Probably Bill sensed the tracing of the connection, like he did with Dipper’s other testing. Bill wanted the result startle him. Because he thinks it’s funny.

Dipper grits his teeth, and glares at the screen. 

Actually, screw this guy. Dipper’s keeping the stupid phone. If for no other reason than spite. This ‘Bill’ guy seems pretty full of himself, like he’s totally above some human. He’s in for a bad time, then, because Dipper’s not going to let one little surprise scare him off.

Besides.  The average guy would get into horrible, even deadly trouble, whereas Dipper… sort of knows what he’s doing.  No, he is good at his job. Finding secrets, solving mysteries, thwarting evil jerks who think they’re oh-so-hilarious, the whole shebang. He does it all.

Taking another breath, hissing through clenched teeth - Dipper lets it out. Losing his temper isn’t going to help deal with an extradimensional being. He has to be careful.

He thinks for a long moment before he responds. 

Okay. Let’s say I believe you. Maybe. Then you should know I didn’t steal your… whatever this is. I found it lying around, and I just. Got kind of curious. 

HA HA HA! Of course you were! Careful with that impulse, kid, it kills more than just cats!

A jerk who definitely thinks he’s hilarious. Dipper rolls his eyes, then, rather pettily, decides to ignore that statement. 

More pressing questions take the lead. Like what the fuck he’s holding right now, and if there are any other nasty tricks in store. A little bit of him, bubbling under the surface, wonders what being a demon is like. What they get up to, common habits. Ways they could be tracked down and, y’know, defeated, maybe. 

Theoretically, he’s got a line to a bunch of innocent, totally not-thwarting-related information that could be super useful to someone trying to, maybe, be a super cool monster-fighter.

Dipper backspaces a bunch over some poorly thought out questions. First things first. Like what the hell he’s holding right now.

So. What is this?

Good question! The gadget you’re poking at with your sweaty meat-paws is paired to the one I have here at my place. A little one-on-one communication assistant, if you will. Once you started groping around with your magic, it wasn’t hard to tell someone had picked it up!

Dipper raises an eyebrow. Though he already has an idea… a little confirmation never hurts. 

Like, you got a notification? Or literally felt?

The latter! Kinda like smell, but by touching things with your eyeballs. And with all your prodding around you might as well have been stinking up the place! Your spells aren’t real subtle!

Hey, they’re subtle! Having weird extra senses is just cheating.

Sucks to be human, then! In that you suck at everything! What’s a LOSER like you gonna do about it?

Dipper nearly throws the stupid artifact again - but he holds back, gripping it tight. Instead he sits up, leaning down and hauling his backpack up from the side of the bed. 

Maybe Bill thinks he can’t do anything. That he’s some ignorant nobody, who doesn’t have any real skills or talent or doesn’t have any friends - but he’s got that wrong. Dipper’s not a loser. Bill’s not getting away with that bullshit.

One quick unzip and a bit of rifling around later, he finds what he was looking for. Carefully, Dipper bounces the heft of a flashlight battery in his hand. Shutting his eyes, he focuses on crafting a quick working.

Magic is all about energy, and its direction. Focusing power, conveying it from one place to another. Pushing anything across dimensions would take impossible amounts of energy, stuff Dipper doesn’t have. If it weren’t for a very convenient connection, already in his hand.

Dipper has nothing on hand to actually exorcise the guy - he’s not sure that’s even possible when Bill’s where he should be - but retribution is in order.

More text lines appear on the artifact. He ignores them. Changing this up to work with the demon device is a challenge, but after figuring out how to alter the tracking spell changing this one up isn’t hard. He adjusts the flow of magic this way, into the tangle of not-veins in the device that way, finishes the chant-

Then touches his tongue to the battery.

The jolt passes through him painlessly, following the spell. It zips along his nerves, down into his hand and from there - into the artifact itself. 

Where it should, theoretically end up right at that bastard.

Dipper tosses the battery back into his backpack. Picking up the ‘phone’, hunching over to stare at the screen. 

That worked. He felt the energy move… unless he got the math wrong. Or a detail of his spell. Or maybe demons are immune to electricity, and he just did something totally pointless. 

God. It might even prove Bill right, and wouldn’t that be the worst - 

The next line of text comes in. 

What the hell? A joy buzzer? That’s some real petty prank stuff! You seriously pulled that bullshit? And across dimensions?

A tense pause. Dipper taps the phone, checking for it heating up again - but another line pops up after a few seconds.

Y’know what, kid? I think I might actually like you! You’re FEISTY.

Dipper nearly does a double-take. 

But no, that - what? Aren’t demons supposed to be vengeful? He was half-sure he’d have to chuck the phone out the window before it exploded in his hands. 

In fact, you’re in luck! ‘Cause I’m pretty bored, and I can totally show you how to improve that jinx of yours! If you can keep up with a little theory, that is.

Because that’s not suspicious or anything. Conversation with a demon can only lead to ruin and disaster. He should absolutely, definitely stop this right in its tracks.

Still, Dipper shrugs, and types, 

Try me.

[night-raven-tattler]

Love beyond spoken words - part 2

Summary: Everyone has a way of saying "I love you" without using those three words.

Characters: Jamil, Rook, Idia, Sebek × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Ace, Jack, Azul

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jamil was going through his personalised version of the stages of grief while stacking away the boxes of expensive fabric Kalim brought from Silk City that he promised to give to Professor Crewel

Without his knowledge, as always

But this time wasn't too bad, since you were there to help him with the boxes

And he quite enjoyed your company, so the opportunist in him simply refused to deny himself of you when you kindly offered to lend him a helping hand

He even offered you one of his hair ties when your hair kept falling on your face

You knew Jamil had a certain possesiveness over his personal belongings, so you couldn't help but feel a bit flustered at the offer

You still accepted the hair tie, however

After your finished putting the boxes away, Grim came into the room looking for you because the Headmage requested your help with some errand

And you didn't get the chance to hand Jamil his hair tie back

Jamil was surprised by how little it bothered him that his hair tie was with you; instead of being upset you took something from him like he expected he'd feel, he was somewhat glad you had something of his with you

...Maybe it was silly, it was just a hair tie after all

Yet, it almost made him feel like he was claiming you in some way-

A thought so embarassing he had to cover his whole face with his hoodie

He was walking in the hallways with Kalim as his Housewarden talked about The Great Seven know what, when Kalim suddenly stopped himself mid-rant and fished something out of his pocket

"I totally forgot! Reader bumped into me today and told me to give this to you!"

It was a small paper bag with a snake doodled on it

Jamil snatched it from Kalim, not wanting him to hold something from you any longer, and opened the bag

Inside he found a little note and two hair ties: the one he gave you, and another one that had a small charm with your favorite symbol on it

"I know you don't like when people use your things, so I wanted to give it back. I also gave you one of mine so take care of it!"

He didn't understand the logic behind you giving him your own hair tie, but he took the bag from you and hid it carefully in his pocket, where he occasionally let his hands rest throughout the day

Jamil was very curious about your little offering, so he asked you about it over text

"I wanted to offer it to you as an apology for holding onto your stuff for too long so you won't be mad at me."

Your goody-two-shoes silly logic made him chuckle

As he was about to playfully scold you for your thinking, he saw another chat bubble coming from you that made him drop his phone

"...besides, is it really that bad that I wanted you to have something of mine too?"

Cheeks burning with fluster, he texted you a quick goodnight before he put his phone onto his nightstand, face down so not even the inanimate object could see him like this

Jamil struggled with the idea of you wanting to leave your mark on him, the same selfish idea he carried in his heart

Yet, he didn't mind either of your selfishness

That's why you found Jamil's hair tie under your desk first thing in the morning, a small note attached to it

"If I will have to carry something that belongs to you with me, it wouldn't be fair if you didn't do the same."

『••✎••』

You were enjoying your break outside when you heard a sharp object hit the tree you were leaning against, and based on the piece of paper attached to it, someone special wanted to tell you something

"My love, a whisper

My arrow, a listener

A most blessed messenger

It'll seek your heart to alter

For your blush I'm after."

Your degree in the language of Rook Hunt told you several things: 1. He was on a mission to live up to his name and hunt for your heart... or something

And 2. He really liked his "arrow of love" metaphors

Rook also was likely very amused by how on the nose he was being by sending you love poems via arrow aimed at your surroundings

It happened often enough for you to become unable to differenciate between the quickening pace of your heart from the spook and the one from knowing your boyfriend wanted to remind you of his love for you

Rook had some questionable ways of making your heart skip a beat, and it was borderline annoying how good he was at getting what he wanted

Something about the message itself was a bit off to you

Wasn't counterproductive for a hunter to let its prey know that he was after it?

You never knew what Rook was about to do next, and your heartbeat quickened once again with anticipation for his next move

...which happened soon enough

If the Headmage knew of the arrow currently stuck to your door and damaging the school property, you'd be in trouble

You just wanted to rest peacefully after your classes, but it seemed like Rook had other plans

"My eyes give gentle kisses to your heart

I want to read you, I want to learn you

The world in your chest, your own flow of art

Painted in the loveliest of hues."

You looked around, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of being watched

At this point you were convinced he was toying with you, like a cat after it caught a mouse

But Rook had plans other than to harm you...

He enjoyed the chase, maybe a bit at the expense of your heart, which would jump out of your chest at every over the top declaration of love

You could think of only one way to somewhat get back at him

The vice housewarden was scribbling in his notebook at his desk when he heard footsteps nearing his room, followed by a knock at the door

He smiled and opened the door, revealing your flustered self, fidgeting with a piece of paper in your hands

"Roses are red

You look very merry

I'm not good at writing poems

So just kiss me already."

Rook's eyes widened for a few seconds before he burst into a delighter laughter as he wrapped his arms around you

You thought his over the top affection was what affected you the most, but you were so wrong

All along, it was the little things that made your heart explode

His laughter and the beating of your heart were the only melody echoing in your ears, while your face was being admired by Rook's lovesick eyes

"As you wish, mon amour."

『••✎••』

When you and Idia started dating, you knew he was a peculiar guy

He texted you "good morning" at 5 P.M., he liked to tease you about your grades and wishing the school system was digitalized so he could hack into the school and modify your grades, and he liked gifting you small, cute robots that he built during his sleepless nights

You were dedicated to peel off every layer of your angsty, dramatic, onion of a lover and try to understand his ways of showing he cares about you

Unfortunately, the first obstacle you had to face was his way of texting you

Idia was both a genius and a smartass: he liked sending you secret messages through emojis, but he'd never give you any hint to help you decode them

You rolled your eyes as his favorite combo of emojis popped onto your screen through the notification of your messaging app

"➡️👤🛠️👆💙➡️🤪"

You suspected he either liked testing your abilities to decypher his code, or he was to afraid to outright say what he felt

It's not like Idia was shy in his affections, as peculiar as they were

It was more like he was... hesitant

Afraid, even

"I will take that as a compliment"

You watched as the chat bubble appeared on your screen, carrying Idia's reply

"whehehe did you really look at a code with unknown meaning and assumed it was positive? lmaooooo"

Both of you knew he wouldn't do that

Not because he wasn't capable of it, but because Ortho would threaten to scratch up his P.E. gear again

"Not my fault you sent me code instead of telling me how pretty we both know you think I am"

"oooooo someone's confident 💘💘💘💘"

Well, at least that one was easy enough to decypher

The code Idia sent to you always came out of nowhere, like a sudden stream of thoughts that he couldn't keep to himself

It was sweet, really, and it wasn't like you disliked his little codes

Being a gamer at heart, Idia loved games, and they were an important part of him

If Idia needed some sort of puzzle to express himself, you decided to play along

You were determined to wait until Idia became able to tell you outright how he felt

Maybe one day

That's what Idia also told himself as he stared at the sentence he kept typing and deleting over and over in your conversation

"you make my heart go wild"

Maybe one day...

『••✎••』

"And, because of General Zephyrus, royal green has become a color in Briar Valley that represents sentiments of love and affection for your beloved. It was historically used in clothing during duels by the partner that was not participating..."

You had no idea what you did to receive a special history lesson from Professor Zigvolt himself, but you loved Sebek so you listened to him attentively

It was one of the rare occasions in which he was not talking about Malleus, and it was almost cute to see how worked up he got for topics outside of his guard duty

Not like he wasn't always cute

"Are you even listening, human?!"

...You were not stupid enough to admit you kind of spaced out a little

"Yeah, you were talking about, uh... Something about green clothes?"

Sebek raised his eyebrow and watched you suspiciously, while you were trying not to avoid his piercing gaze and tell on yourself

"... Well, yes. It was a tradition for unmarried partners to express their love through green accessories, such as scarves and..."

Even if he seemed upset on the surface, Sebek was more than eager to share part of his culture with you

The way he'd get so animated about his homeland, his liege, his passions...

You could watch him all day

Unfortunately, the bell indicating the end of your break had the both of you part ways

Before Sebek walked away, he reminded you of the equestrian club's upcoming show jumping competition against Royal Sword Academy

And before he could shily request your presence, you told him you'll be there, and sent his blushy self back to his classes

You didn't want to just be there and attend, however: you wanted to show your appreciation for Sebek

And you remembered his little rant about green accessories as showcases of love in Briar Valley

Which brought you to Sam's the next day, where you bumped into Lilia

Lucky for you, since you couldn't remember which shade of green was the one Sebek was talking about...

Your eyes fell upon a light green scarf, resembling the trademark Diasomnia green, and asked Lilia if this color was good to wear

Lilia's eyes widened before his face twisted into a mischievous grin before he agreed with your choice

So you wrapped it around your wrist the day of the competition and made sure it was as easy to spot as possible

Sebek was warming up with his horse when he spotted you in the growing crowd...

...And you watched him as he almost fell off his horse when he saw the scarf wrapped around the hand you were waving at him with

You watched how he debated between going to you and resuming his warmup for what felt like an eternity, but the beginning of the competition was announced so he settled on talking to you later

On his first break, he marched right to you, red as a tomato and vaguely resembling a broken traffic light

"HUMAN! I can't believe you would do this in such a public setting without telling me first! In Briar Valley it's custom for the knight to wrap the scarf around their desired partner after the duel to signal their engagement! Was my lecture not clear enough?!"

You were used to Sebek getting randomly agitated about stuff but-

-Wait.

"ENGAGEMENT?!"

Sebek turned even redder, something you thought was impossible

"YES?! Light green is a sign of engagement!"

You head was full of questions upon questions

Did you just publicly more or less propose to Sebek?

And he was mad because you didn't tell him beforehand, not because of the accidentally proposal itself?!

Now you wanted a horse to fall off of

[sophiethewitch1]

I wonder how the batboys would be with a reader with a MAJOR interest in foreign languages. I'm not just talking about knowing several languages, I'm talking about a reader who's also capable of using the basics of so many languages that people don't really tend to learn or even know exist (can you imagine casually speaking Burmese or Catalan in front of the boys??), and they know how to read numerous writing systems. Imagine if the Reader's room is just full of language textbooks and their phone is full of language apps

They'd be incredibly impressed, of course. They all know their fair share of languages, considering their job/hobby/personal exercise routine, but the level of effort and care you put in is astounding.

Tim, despite himself, immediately gets competitive about it. He needs to be on the same level as you, and understand you in all ways. And if you love something as much as you love languages, he needs to love it the same way too. So, get ready for quizzes and competitions galore. He probably adds you on Duolingo, even if you didn't give him your contact details, the little stalker. He wants to win (you).

Dick's absolutely over the moon if you decide to research his family's preferred dialect of Romani. He'll happily teach you and you'll have many quiet, whispered conversations together. The language is quite romantic (it is actually a romance language), just like he is, and he probably starts flirting with you all the time in Romani. Just, constantly hitting on you, but in a way only you can understand, so he doesn't get too embarrassed. Flirt back using his mother tongue, and you'll have a swooning Dick Grayson on your hands.

Damian sees this as a grand opportunity to invite you closer into his space. His family has connections in all of the Middle East and further, and he's got access to thousands of ancient documents in hundreds of languages. Is very smug every time you ask him for his help or a book you think he might have. Which, of course, he does. Even if he doesn't he'll have it soon, so don't go asking the others, alright?

Jason 'number one Shakespeare fan' Todd suggests you start learning some old English with him. And like actual old English, not early modern English like Shakespeare actually used. Enjoys reading classic Russian novels like Dostoevsky in the original text to you. Will also quiz you, but in a chill, uncompetitive way.

[copinghex]

From his tenderness | T.S

Summary: After a long and tiring day, Tommy tucks his wife in bed. 🔞

A/N: Saturday smut hehe

Tommy knew she was in a bad mood the second she entered his office. The windows of their shared house were all closed to keep the cold out, but she still felt her hands shaking.

She plopped into the sofa and left out a sigh, covering her face with both hands.

"You didn't answer any of my texts," Tommy started, "why did you get a phone if you're not gonna use it?" 

"Tommy-" she complained, "I must've turned off the notifications, right? I'm sorry," 

He sized her up and cracked a weak smile, "You look fucking exhausted," 

"Tsk, thanks," she snorted.

"Rough day?" 

"Yeah," 

"I ordered dinner," 

"What?" 

"You didn't answer my texts so I ordered your favorite," Tommy explained and she grabbed her phone, glancing at the messages on the lockscreen.

"Hmm, I'm not hungry yet," she complained, "I just wanna go straight to bed,"

"Then go," he took a sip of his whiskey glass and went back to his work, "I'll join you later,"'

"Join me now," 

"I've work to do," 

"Don't you always? You had the whole day to finish this," she argued.

"I've got emails to send," 

"Oh? Managing to send emails without me?" she mocked, "They grow up so fast," 

"Weren't you going to bed?" Tommy gave her a scolding look.

Silence took over and she stood up, "I'll take a shower," she announced before leaving the office.

She made her way through the house checking her social media, dropping the phone on the bed when she got in the bedroom. Picking a set of clean clothes, she headed to the bathroom.

Taking her working clothes off felt the same as taking a burden off her back. She started the shower and waited until it got warm.

The water ran down her tense muscles, she quickly rubbed the soap on her skin and rinsed off. After washing her hair as well, she closed her eyes, enjoying the water on her back, however the incomplete chores of the day still clouded her mind.

With a deep frustrated sigh, she turned off the shower and grabbed her towel, perhaps a good night of sleep could achieve better success in relaxing her.

Back to the bedroom, she got dressed and plopped in bed, right in the middle, unbothered by her wet hair in the sheets or the fact Tommy might want to lay down later, he didn't put her first when she told him about her terrible day so she wouldn't put him first now either.

Except that, suddenly, a warm rough hand wrapped around her ankle. 

"Fuck!" she jumped, pulling her leg back, "What're you doing?" 

Tommy chuckled at how easily she got scared, they were the only people in the house, it couldn't be anyone else. 

"You're not gonna eat?" he asked, grabbing her leg and gently squeezing her calf muscles.

"No, I just want to sleep," she frowned, "what happened to your emails?" 

"I've set another priority," 

"Oh, really?" she scoffed and pulled her leg back again, "Or were you just struggling to edit a document?" 

"I decided to do something you often do for me,"

"You're gonna convert my docx files to pdf?" 

"Alright, fucking stop that," he demanded, "for someone who's so tired you're joking way too much," 

She smiled at his annoyed face, mentioning his lack of technological skills always made him defensive.

"So here's what you're gonna do," he held the hem of her shirt, "take these off, shut your pretty mouth and lay on your stomach,"

"Why?" she questioned.

"Do it," he gave her an assuring nod. 

Hesitantly, she took her clothes off, laying down on only underwear. She frowned when Tommy reached for something from the dressing table and straddled her thighs.

"What are you-"

"Just relax, alright? I dropped my paperwork for this," 

A shiver ran down her spine as Tommy spread lotion through her back. He pressured in between her shoulder blades, melting the tension underneath his palm just like she had done for him many times. 

A smirk showed on his face when he noticed the sleepy look on her face, he was certain that when he finished, she'd promptly fall asleep in his arms. 

His rough hands trailed the way down to her lower back, effortlessly soothing the knots on her muscles. Tommy took his time to extinguish any ounces of tension, handling her body with the mastery he cultivated in the time they were together.

At certain point, she felt liquid in his hands, loose as a ragdoll, but surprisingly, not asleep yet. Whatever was clouding her mind was resistant to enough to not vanish.

Gently, Tommy lifted her hips and pressed her back down, making her arch for him. His fingers brushed on her clothed pussy making her whine,

"Tommy-" she peeked at him, "I'm tired," 

"It works for me when I can't sleep," he argued and she chuckled.

"Not always, that's why I insist you take your meds," 

"Yeah," he admitted in defeated tone, "and what an insistent creature you are," 

"You are a creature," she struck back then smiled, "come here," 

Turning to face him, she tried to attach her lips to his neck, he quickly held her jaw though, not allowing her leave any marks on him.

"No, last time I had to keep up with John spitting three jokes per minute," 

"But Tom-" she tried to remove his hand.

"No, just let me take care of you, eh?" 

With a weak smile, she nodded, "Okay," 

Tommy pecked her lips and headed to the wardrobe, rummaging through the drawers until he found their lube bottle, "Tongue or fingers?" 

"You," 

"Alright," with a naughty smirk, he also got a condom and a tiny vibrator.

Once he was back in bed, she attached their lips together, her mind slipped away from any worries at the feeling of his gentle kiss. One of Tommy's hands rested on the top of her head while the other guided her legs around him.

At the same time, her hands explored the soft skin under his shirt, the lean muscles twitched and she smiled against his lips, she knew Tommy had many women before and yet, simple gentle touches made him weak.

When necessity demanded, they broke the kiss, breathing heavily with desire.

"I love you," she breathed out.

"You better," he weakly smiled, pampering kisses on the valley of her breasts.

Reaching for their little toy, Tommy turned it on and attached his lips to her neck. Her eyes closed at the exquisite combination, nibbles soothed by his gentle tongue, followed by wet kisses.

In feather-like movements, he teased her nipples with the vibrator. He wasn't particularly fond of the loud sound, but he was of the sweet moans he heard when it came to play.

She barely realized when they started to leave her lungs, Tommy couldn't waste the opportunity to point out, "Not so stressed now, eh?" 

"Hm-hmm," she denied.

"Does it feel good, love?" he whispered, lips brushing against her ear.

"Hm," finally opening her eyes, she pleaded, "want you, Tom," 

With a mix of scoff and laugh, Tommy put the vibrator away and laid down on the bed, "C'here," 

Taking her panties off, she placed one knee on each side of his head, at full display for him. She gripped on the headboard feeling his warm breath against her.

He affectionately stroked her hips at the same time kisses were placed on her inner thighs, a playful bite made her gasp with laughter which was quickly interrupted by the feeling of his warm mouth.

Tommy dragged his tongue through her wet folds, tasting her entry before moving to her swollen clit. Wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, he switched between licking and gently sucking.

His strong hands pulled her further into his face and instinctively, her hips moved searching for more. As his name poured from her lips in weak moans, she moved forward trying to get him on her entry again, he obliged, teasing her needy hole before giving her pussy an appreciative kiss.

Suddenly, Tommy stopped, contanting himself with tracing her inner lips with feather-like touches.

"Tom?" she asked, confused and slightly frustrated with the lack of touch.

"It's alright," he soothed, "I got you," 

Pushing two fingers into her, he resumed his movements, this time the double pleasure got louder moans from her. His fingertips brushed the perfect spot on her insides and the coldness of his wedding ring added an even better touch, she felt herself soaking up his hand and chin.

The sweet tightness of an orgasm started to grow on her stomach, resting her cheek on the headboard, her hips moved in small circles trying to get all the pleasure her man provided.

She took a hand to Tommy's head, holding into his soft hair, the raspy groan he left out against her pussy was enough to send her over the edge. She couldn't control the urge of fucking his face through the overwhelming wave of pleasure.

He kept going until she started panting and finally feeling her eyelids heavy. Every ounce of stress or energy left her body and she moaned a spoiled sound, expressing how satisfied she was. Tommy should have stopped by then, he didn't.

Guiding her arms behind her back, he simply ordered her not to move, there was no need for physical restraint, her unquestionable obedience was enough. Pulling the hood of her clit, he left her completely exposed, flapping his tongue on her reddish tip.

"Tommy, please," she whined, "please, please please, it's sensitive," 

Tommy chuckled hearing her pathetic begging, dragging his tongue to her soaked entry and finishing his short torture sucking her lips together.

With two little smacks on her ass, he allowed her to get off his face. She moved down to his hips, comfortably sitting before laying down on his chest with her eyes closed.

"Want to sleep now?" he whispered.

"No," she quietly answered, "still want you," 

"Yeah? You're sleepy, I can tell," 

"Hmmm," she complained, "want you, Tom," 

"I know, love, but looks like you're already sleeping," 

"Hm," 

"When you wake up I'll give you what you want, alright?" 

She took a moment to considerate his offer, then finally agreed, "Hmm," 

Kissing her forehead, Tommy stroked her lower back until he heard low snores coming from her. With a small smile, he carefully got out of bed, covering her naked body with a blanket before leaving the room.

He still had paperwork to make, this time without worrying about her.

[gummilutt]

250 followers Custom Memory Bonanza

It's finally time! To thank all you lovely people for your support, I have been working hard to get this ready for upload and here we are. Today I am sharing my custom memory object, and my library of a whopping 201 custom memories. Based on the wonderful Tattered Diary by DiLight over on MTS, and the tutorial she shared of how to make your own custom memories.

I've always cared a lot about memories, to me they tell the story of the Sims life. Some of you from MTS may recall when I did the whole several year rebuild of my hood, replicating every last detail of the original. I'm memory crazy, okay? And when DiLight gave me the power to make my own, I may have gone a tad overboard. Or just the right amount, you get to decide :P DiLight taught me most of what I know about making custom memories, and the base BHAVs are from her, but as I've learned more I've added some bells and whistles that I hope you will enjoy. It's a new clone and separate GUID from the original tutorial object set up by DiLight, so if you have your own you can have mine too without issues :) Found in misc/misc, costs 1 simoleon.

Download on simfileshare

Features - Brand new form, created by me. Resized BV photo album with new mapping and new texture (seen above, in game pictures at the end of this post). I wanted something that was uniquely mine, and that you don't necessarily have to hide away in the attic or under the foundation. If you don't like it, you also have some additional model forms you can switch between through the pie menu. - Adaptable dynamic menu. Thanks to a really neat trick from @picknmixsims the menu reflects the memories you put in your downloads. If no file with the correct guid is found, the option for it won't show. Which means that although I am crazy enough to have 201, you can go ahead and only pick your favorite ones and the object will automatically detect and adapt the menu to that selection. - Memories all have a custom icon, that's made from game icons from TS2 or TS3. Some I am quite proud of, some are admittedly not great. Not everything is easy to convey through game icons, but I've tried my best, I hope the effort shows. 5 memories have icons that are not from the game, but I tried to match them to the aesthetic as best I could. - Memory subject menu shows only relevant age groups. For example, if the memory is about having a baby, only baby/toddler Sims will show as options. Goal being to keep menu as concise as possible. If you wish to assign memories retroactively, please see jonasn's excellent Memory Commander object, which has support to add my custom memories without age limitations. As well as a whole lot of other useful memory-related stuff. - Extensive documentation detailing everything you may need to know about the memories (text, icon, background, who can get it, who they can get it about, repeatability, where to find it on the object) to help you select the ones you want for your game, and familiarize yourself with them. - English and Swedish translations of memories, and object menu. If someone wants to add their language, that would be great but it's a lot of work so I don't expect it. You are welcome to share your translated versions directly if you wish, or you can send them to me for me to update files shared here :) If you want to learn how to translate the files directly, Episims has a great tutorial found here.

Examples of types of custom memories included - Extended family members memories (got cousin, got aunt/uncle, got sibling, got twin sibling, got great grandchild, got stepparent, got stepchild) - Birth related memories (pregnancy, becoming parent, late in life parent, had multiples birth, premature baby) - Marriage related memories (divorce, parental divorce, custody things, alimony) - Relationship related memories (fighting, breakups, additional love memories) - Woohoo related (memories for specific woohoo locations, repeatable generic woohoo/public woohoo) - University degree related (declared major memories, got a minor degree memories, got a major degree memories, for remembering having studied multiple things and being able to see what major your Sim chose without looking at their diploma) - Loan related, for remembering taking and paying off loans of different types - Moving memories (first apartment, child moves out, various memories for sims moving in with others) - Kids related (child's first day in school, got their own pet, nursery rhyme, giving up for adoption, living at orphanage)

Mods automating delivery of my CC memories (more to come) Learned nursery rhyme from - Found here, by me Wrote restaurant guide - Found here, part of jonasn "Novel Writing Improvements" mod

Credits: DiLight, @picknmixsims, @morepopcorn, @latmosims, @joplayingthesims, maxon, @keoni-chan. For detailed info on how they all impacted the creation of this, see readme :) Policy: Give credit to DiLight, beyond that, totally open. Enjoy!

[monster-disaster]

Request for a Grotesque? (Gargoyle is the popular name, but not the correct name).

It’s been a long time since I’ve read a lot of your stories, so please forgive me if I’m repetitive with plots you’ve already done.

Can you make him have DILF energy? Not an actual man with kids or an ex, just a man who’s good with kids, and is on the older side of course. I’m in desperate need of a very affectionate and gentle lover who just wants to overwhelmingly dote and take care of his future wifey. Is being someone’s baby girl too much to ask? T^T I can’t really handle super dominant and aggressive lover types. Like being ridiculously sweet, indulgent, intelligent, and manipulative is such a better archetype to get the girl. Bro don’t hit me in the bedroom. I’m delicate and bruise super easily.

Male x Female reader, if that’s not too much to ask :)

Thanks love!

Gods, I really need a boyfriend like that right now. I hope you will like it! :)

gargoyle/grotesque x Reader Warnings: smut

There is a slight pain at the back of your head. It throbs in sync with your pulse, making you scowl at the screen. The document stares back at you with bright, white lights. The long rows of black text become blurry for a second, and you need to close your eyes to stop yourself from tearing up. "Did you drink enough water?"

The sudden voice makes you jump with a startled gasp. In the process, you push yourself away from your desk, and you need to grab onto the wooden edge. Your eyes snap open, staring at the entrance of your office. "Garog," you say his name, watching him approach you. He is still in his work clothes with a paper bag in his hand. The scent of your favorite takeout fills your nostrils when he puts it on the table in favor of focusing on you. "Did you drink enough water?" He asks again, slipping his thick fingers to the back of your neck, drawing small circles on your tense muscles. A relieved breath leaves your lips at the feeling. You hum. "You can't solve everything with water," you tell him. Garog chuckles, reaching into the bag to put a bottle of water in front of you. "Are you sure about it?" "Thank you," you reply, reaching out for the bottle. You know the gargoyle won't leave you alone until you drink at least a few sips. He massages your neck and shoulders the whole time while you do so. "And eat too," he says after a while, stepping away to grab a chair and put it next to you. The thing creaks under his weight. "It's still warm." "I thought you were at home," you tell him while he is busy with the plastic containers. He shrugs. "I was," he says. "Then I called you twice, and when you didn't answer, I thought you had a rough day." "Did you call?" You ask, wanting to reach for your phone, but Gargog stops you with a gentle smile. "I'm sorry." "It's fine, love," he says. "As I said, I knew you had a busy day." Silence settles between you two while you openly stare at him. He is broad with sharp edges and gray sideburns. His nose is crooked, and you can barely see the color of his eyes when he smiles at you. The grayish shade of his skin seems lighter under the office lights. "Do you need anything else?" He asks. "No," you reply, a bit dreamily. "Sometimes I just forget how lucky I am." He grins at you before leaning down to kiss your lips. It's short and chaste. "I am the lucky one."

You could argue with him but decide against it.

For a while, both of you say nothing and just enjoy the calmness of your office while eating. Every bite and sip of water reminds you that eating and drinking weren't in your priorities today.

You glance at Garog from the corner of your eye. Damn, you really are lucky.

"I can throw them out," you tell Garog after your late dinner when he stands up to clean up your desk. "I want to make some coffee anyway." He frowns at you. "You shouldn't drink coffee this late." With a tired sigh, you lean back on your chair, massaging the side of your head in circles. "You still hurt, huh?" He asks, coming back to your side to rake his fingers through your hair. Your eyes fall shut immediately. "It will be fine," you tell him. "It's not that bad anymore, thanks to you." "My poor baby," he coos, and you laugh at his tone. "But lucky you, I know how we can get rid of it." "Water? Sleep?" You guess, still enjoying his caresses with closed eyes. "Those too," Garog agrees with something in his voice that makes you look up at him. He towers over you with wide shoulders and his wings that peek out from behind him. Your fingertips tingle with the urge to touch them. "But later. Now, I have something else in my mind." You know the heated glint in his eyes too well. He doesn't even have to say or do anything, and your body reacts immediately. "Here?" You ask him, shocked. "What if someone comes in?" You glance at the closed door a few meters away. Garog scoffs at your worry, pulling on your chair to separate you from your desk. "Nobody is here anymore, Y/N," he replies. "You are the only one still working." "Oh." He is right. "Do you trust me?" You almost frown, hearing his question. "Of course." "Then let me have my dessert, love." Something warm and giddy lits in your stomach as you laugh. "It was horrible." "It was not," he grins, getting rid of your pants and panties with one swift motion. "Are you really laughing at me?" He asks, amused. "No," you lie. "At least not for long," Garog grins at you wolfishly, settling on his knees between your legs. Whatever you wanted to say a few moments ago is long forgotten.

His hands are firm but gentle on your legs as he slides them up to your inner thighs, opening you up even more in front of his hungry eyes. "You are already wet," he states, running his thumb over your pussy, gathering your slickness on the tip of his finger. Your stomach flutters with excitement and anticipation. The muscles of your thighs almost hurt in the wide spread you keep them to give enough space for the gargoyle. "Garog," you breath out his name, impatient.

Your hectic day and the bright light of your laptop are forgotten. The only thing that still exists in your world right now is Garog, kneeling and leaning closer to your center. His breath fans over your slit, making you clench around nothing. And you don't have to wait for long to feel his tongue swipe over your wetness. "Fuck!" You groan, letting your head fall against the headrest of your chair. Your nails dig into the leather. He grunts something you don't understand, but to be honest, you don't even care. The rumble of his words surges through your body, searing over your nerves and veins. Your back arches when his tongue runs along your slit, flicking your clit repeatedly until you are a panting mess. Your fingers rake through his hair, keeping him against your pussy. "Oh!" Garog's lips close around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth with fever. You feel like a raw nerve, ready to burst. "Don't!' You cry, tightening your hold on his hair when he moves lower to bully your aching hole. "Please!" He hums again in answer, smiling into your pussy for a moment before returning to your clit. Electricity pumps your blood down to your center, and you writhe under him while pleasure builds in your belly. "There!" You mewl into the quiet office, filled with your moans. "Please! Garog!" His tongue rolls around your clit, taking it into his mouth again for a few last sucks to chase you to your orgasm. Your body trembles and shakes. Your hips twitch and push against his warm mouth while he drinks up your juices, humming and groaning with satisfaction. Waves of ecstasy crash through you, and white-hot circles dance in front of your closed eyes. "My girl," Garog hums, petting your thighs. His palms are warm on your skin, massaging your flesh and bringing you back to real life. "Take your time."

When you finally calm down after a few minutes, you feel tired but happy. Your eyelids are heavy, and Garog can't help but smile at your slugged form. "Can you come home with me?" He asks softly, glancing at your laptop. "And maybe we could stay at home tomorrow?" You hum, nodding. "But I need my laptop." "Of course, love," he says. "I put everything away while you get dressed." "I love you," you tell him, and he smiles.

[ecogirl2759]

THE MOMENT WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!!!!

Here it is, guys!

The Kiyotaka Ishimaru Mastermind comic from 4コマ KINGS Vol. 4!

SPECIFICALLY CITING THIS SO THAT OTHERS KNOW WHERE TO FIND THIS COMIC!!!

Huge, HUUUUGE thanks to @panicuriprince!!! They helped me with clearing the text, rewording panels and putting everything together! Pages 4, 5, and 6 are her doing! PLEEEASE go send her some love, they REALLY helped me get this done and I literally couldn't have done this without her :D

There's a document below the break with more literal translations for the comic, as well as translation notes, a link to a Google Drive folder with ALL of the pages, and other interesting tidbits! Please give it a read!

The Japanese pages will also be below the break! (As well as a little spiel of mine. It's quite long, so be careful!)

(also please forgive how many tags there are here-)

Remember to read right to left <3

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As promised, here are the Japanese panels:

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AND HERE'S THE DOCUMENT!

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✨ WOW ✨

I can't begin to describe to you all how AMAZING this feels!

I've spent the past 2 years on what felt like a wild goose chase, desperately searching for this one comic that I wasn't even sure existed.

This all started with me finding a photo on Tumblr of this comic and spiraling into this deep dive. First I didn't know if this was even real, then I found out that this comic series had ceased printing, then I couldn't be sure which book it was actually in.

There is literally almost no information out there about the fourth volume of this anthology series. I've said this before and I'll say it again, volumes 1 and 2 both have full translations that you can download off of other websites, and while 3 doesn't seem to have that, there are a lot of separately translated comics floating around out there, namely on Pinterest.

The 4th volume had NOTHING! No matter how hard I searched or how many links I clicked, no one has really said ANYTHING about this book, which was why this specific comic was so hard for me to find.

But I have all of the books now, so I definitely want to do this again for all of them so that people have easy access to these translations. I'll start with book 4 though haha.

Also, I'm not sure who it was, but HUUUUGE thanks to the kind stranger on Ebay who was willing to sent me the whole series!! I literally don't know where I would be right now if these books weren't with me, so thank you <3

Also, thank you to all of my Japanese teachers that I've had throughout the years. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have been able to understand the comic, haha! One even helped me out in the early stages of this process, so extra thanks to him <3

I feel really passionate about accessible media. I think that everyone should be able to read and find whatever they want. That's part of the reason that I've endeavored on this project. I want everyone to be able to seek out and find these comics if they really want to. And, of course, I want everyone to be able to understand them, too.

So please enjoy this comic! If you'd like to repost it, I'd appreciate being credited just so that others know where they can go to find the full comic.

This one-man project isn't so one-man anymore, and I seriously can't thank everyone who's helped me enough!!! I'm honestly so glad I didn't have to go through this alone <33

ALSO

If you see anything, LITERALLY ANYTHING, that you think I could change/improve (like formatting or different interpretations of the Japanese text), PLEASE shoot me a message!! I want to make sure this comic is as good as it can be, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Even if you don't have a suggestion and would just like to reach out to ask a question or something, PLEASE don't be afraid to do that! I know I get really cold feet when sending people asks, so I'm going to reassure everyone who needs to hear it now: You're never going to be a bother to me! I love getting asks! Whenever anyone sends me something, I get really excited <3

So ask questions! Tell me I did a horrible job and got none of the text right! Ask why Ishimaru literally cannot be evil! I don't know the answer, either!

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Thank you all so much for the support and the kind words you've been giving me ever since I first announced I was translating this comic! Your support has been extremely motivating to me! Also, you guys are hilarious with your tags!

Seriously, thank you so much! Words literally can't express how I feel right now, but I guess the best way I could describe it is cathartic. I'm REALLY happy that I finally get to share 2 years worth of work with you guys! You've all been a massive help to me in more ways than one <333

KEEP BEING AWESOME <3

[deoidesign]

Happy webcomics day!!!

I'm not home (on a trip right now with family), but I still want to talk a little bit about my process, so I did what I could to find some wip shots 🧡

Plus, I'd also like to update my extremely patient readers with a little taste of what's to come!!!

Step one, of course, is writing.

When I'm writing I have four documents open. A "dump" document, a "yes this!" Document, an outline document, and a drawing canvas!

In the dump document, I put ANYTHING. complete stream of consciousness. The 'yes this' document is where I put anything useful from the dump document, and the outline is, of course, the outline. The drawing canvas is for me to sketch out problems and ideas and get sort of a different angle on things, since I can't really visualize.

Once I have a book completely written, I start thumbnailing!

My thumbnails pretty much look like this. Text, sketchy poses, indications of expression and maybe environment...

I thumbnail the entire book at once. I don't let myself do any edits on it until it's done, but I take note of edits I'd like to make! Then, once the first draft is out, I edit.

I'll move entire scenes, delete whole episodes, bring in bits from the end to have proper foreshadowing... Etc! It's a long process that makes my arcs feel much more complete and something I can be really proud of.

I can only do this when I'm really ahead, though, so that's why I've been on a long hiatus!!! I was forced to work without my process for a few arcs, and the difference is so huge to me that I refuse to let myself do it again. It makes a loner hiatus, but work way more worth waiting for!

Next step is lineart!

Yes, I skip sketches! I go right into lines.

I save every head I've ever drawn, and that lets me copy paste in a basic head angle. Then I redo the face, fix up the hair, etc. so it fits my panel, and then I draw the rest of the body!

This seriously saves me so much time, but less so for the drawing (i still draw a ton of heads and I'm very fast) and more just for helping me skip sketching entirely!

Then I do character flats, which since all my lines are closed that goes pretty quickly (slowest part is Steve's hair, I refuse to use a brush cause every one I've made looks terrible!!!)

And then I draw the backgrounds!

Which, I keep layered, clean, and HUGE so I can use them throughout the arc.

I used to feel bad doing this, but then I realized... It's not like backgrounds "change" irl. So why make them change in my comics...? It saves me so much time, but it ALSO lets me put in more detail per background! I draw probably 3 very large backgrounds per episode like this, and then I draw maybe 5-10 unique backgrounds for single panels per episode as well. I save these too, but they're rarely re-used.

And then my panels are done!!!

So there's a bit of my process for you all!!!

Happy webcomics day 🧡🧡🧡

And here's my comic, if you haven't read it and want to see the end result of this process, or if you have read it and would enjoy a re-read with the extra knowledge:

Or, if you would prefer books I have those too!

Happy to elaborate on any step, as well!

I make comics extremely quickly and as my full time job, and my process allows me to easily manipulate my format as well. I'm happy to share any of my knowledge if you have questions!!!

[tiredandoptimistic]

thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com complete "riddle" questions and answers

When I first started looking through lists of keywords for thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com, I was confused by a bunch of them which, when entered, produced questions which seem completely unrelated to their trigger phrases. I realized that all the prompts are answers to other questions, meaning it's possible to put them in order and create a complete test. I doubt I'm the first to figure this out, but I still think it's super cool, so here's all the questions and how to find their answers!

(Apologies in advance for the photo quality, they're all described in alt text).

First, you enter the code "RIDDLE" to get "WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY A GAME?" which to me is proof that Bill at least has decent taste in movies.

Next, you can either type "NO" or "YES," to get either "YOUR LOSS..." or "WHAT"S MCGUCKET'S FAVORITE SODA"

The answer to this question is "MOUNTAIN DON'T," and while I swear I remember reading this someplace, I can't find the actual source.

Once you enter it, you get the question "WHAT'S A MEDIEVAL HOMONYM?"

Which can be found in the Dark Ages pages of The Book of Bill, in the border of the illuminated manuscript:

"LYRE LIAR"

"Anti-Cipher Tonic" appears near the end of the "Anti Cipher Society" pages, complete with an ingredients list:

The twentieth of which is "Harold's Ramblings"

When you enter it you get another question to which I cannot find the source of the answer, but going off the list of phrases that've been found, I'm guessing it's "UNION MADE"

Bill's government file can be found on the page about the 1940s, and is labeled with:

A number which gets you:

Okay and I swear this is the last one I can't show my work on, but wherever you find it the answer is "Grebley Hemberdreck"

A reference to the picture of Bill celebrating the bubonic plague on the Dark Ages page.

And that funky little rodent gives you:

A reference to Thurburt Mudget Waxstaff III of the Anti-Cipher Society and his eventual fate of being institutionalized:

Once you enter his number, you get a question about tracks in the snow:

Which is answered on Ford's missing journal pages about winter in Gravity Falls:

The tinsel snake gets you "THE 6TH OPTION ON BILL'S EDITING SOFTWARE?"

Which can be found on the page where Bill designs a cover for his book:

The sixth option, "Torture Mentally," leads to:

Which is yet another reference to the Dark Ages, and Bill's adventures with the wizard Xgqrthx the Unpronounceable.

Whose name produces:

An address which is provided on the 1990s Tri Angels page, in the mail order form:

Said address takes you to:

To answer this question, you need to do a little more digging around the website. When you enter the code "NAITSUAF," you get a letter from Bill attempting to recruit you into his MLM soul-selling scheme, complete with this note from his lawyer:

And once you enter the name "MULTILEVEL MARK," you get the final question:

(For some reason I haven't figured out, "CAESAR ATBASH VIGENERE" produces the same result as "MULTILEVEL MARK," so that's one way to skip to the end I guess).

Silas Birchtree is referenced in The Book of Bill on the Cults page:

But his full story isn't revealed until you enter "STOD EHT TCENNOC" on the website.

The whole document is definitely a worthwhile read, but there's really only one aspect that's relevant to our purpose:

It was Emmaline Butternubbins who killed Silas Birchtree (again) in 1952! And when you enter her name into the computer, it tells you that you've finally earned a treat. Huzzah!

(Interestingly to me a least, "EMMALINE BUTTERNUBBINS" and "BUTTERNUBBINS" both work as codes, but "EMMALINE" does not. I guess Bill's not on a first name basis with her).

Anyways, once you enter "DISPENSE MY TREAT," a folder is downloaded onto your device which is full of text-free versions of art from The Book of Bill, which you can use for desktop wallpapers or any other nefarious purposes your mind can conceive of.

I hope you've enjoyed going on this journey with me, because I've sure spent an amount of time on it.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

[mister-qi]

Mr. Qi Friendship and Romance Mod: 4/19 Progress Update

It's a working title, I'm trying to come up with something less wordy that still will pop up in Nexus searches.

I wanted to be able to track my progress, mainly for myself, but if you're curious, this is the state of the mod right now:

Writing:

Heart Events - the 2 heart event is fully written (with blocking directions), and the 6, 8, and 10 heart events are outlined. The 4 heart cutscene currently has me a bit stumped; I have ideas, but nothing concrete yet. I definitely now understand why Sam's 4 heart cutscene is him dropping an egg. 14 hearts is on the back-burner as a little treat to myself once I get further into things.

Generic Daily Dialogues - about 1/3 done, probably the highest priority for writing. I'm leaving his vanilla casino dialogue as the two heart dialogue, and the vanilla Walnut Room dialogue as his four heart dialogue, with a few small changes. And, since it's me, I have more marriage dialogue written than anything else...

Day-Specific Dialogues - very few written, lower priority. Hoping to have a lot of these made eventually, and I have plenty of ideas, but they aren't necessary for the core of the mod so they're on the back-burner for now.

Gift Dialogues - all 5 generic gift response dialogues are written, with an additional 22 dialogue lines for specific items/groups of items. I'm also up to around item 530 in figuring out what item corresponds to which dialogue/whether or not he likes it. Certain item groups, like cooked food, still need more lines, however. This is definitely something that should be low priority, but also something I'm really enjoying working on. Some personal favorites so far are-

[if given a fish (hated)]: "Eugh, it's all slimy..."

[if given a legendary fish (disliked)]: "If you must give me one of the rarest fish in the valley, can you at least wrap it so I don't have to touch it with my bare hands?"

And I think that's pretty funny.

Art

Portraits - 3 new portraits finished: "deep frown" "glint" and "glasses-less". I'll probably be messing with "glasses-less" for a looong while; it's first shown at a dramatic moment so it needs to look good. Blushing portraits are next on the docket.

Here's "glint" btw, with a background thrown on so I can have a custom icon. You know I gotta make him do the anime glasses thing a few times.

Sprites - no progress yet. Walk cycle is up next after I finish the blushing portraits. Did you know he doesn't have a walk cycle at all? [1.6 spoilers] in the cheated Summit cutscene where he attacks(?) you, he literally just slides at you very fast. Anyways, I may also change his map sprite a bit as well, since it was drawn to match his old portrait and doesn't actually have the same color scheme as his sprites. Note to self: is it possible to make the sparkles on his outfit prismatic?

Maps - no progress yet. The 6 heart and 10 heart cutscenes both require custom maps, with the 6 heart one being a fully custom asset. 10 heart recycles some existing assets but will still need some custom stuff done as well.

Misc Sprites - in my head, there's a dream version of the 8 heart cutscene that has so, so many unique sprites. Like an incredible amount of stuff. I think it'll kick ass, but also that sequence could be done with a few lines of text. So, for now, it's low priority. But maybe in a few months I'll put out a request for help.

Implementation

Not totally sure how to split this into sections yet, as I'm very much still in the preliminary stages so far. To say that I'm feeling overwhelmed is an understatement; documentation on the wiki swings wildly between "an asset is a file in a video game" and "this is an advanced tutorial. Read these 4 other pages first before continuing."

I've started using Ms. Coriel's NPC Creator which has been good for setting up the basic file structure, but ultimately doesn't cover some of the more complex stuff I want to do. EDIT: Turns out it's completely outdated for 1.6! Had to throw out a bit of work, but I still learned from it so it's fiiine.

I think setting up his "schedule" will be a challenge, in that I don't actually want him to have a real schedule like most NPCs. Not to pull back the curtain too much here, but I want him to "exist" in both the Casino and the Walnut Room simultaneously, which is to say, he does not exist in two places at once in the narrative, just in the code. This will change after marriage, however.

My next goal is to set up placeholder cutscenes for each of the heart events, and then to implement the generic daily dialogues once those are finished.

Final Notes

God, this will be a work in progress for a while, but I'm enjoying it! Definitely enjoying the writing more than anything else, but hey, that's how it be. I've got around 70 lines of dialogue written, a bit of art done, and I've started learning how to actually get stuff in game. I've always been more of a designer than a coder, but it's getting there!

ADDITIONALLY I've decided that if I abandon this project for more than 8 months, anyone is welcome to request my work so far and use it for their own mod. If this blog hasn't posted in a long while, feel free to send me an ask or message! I may say no, however.

Ultimately, I want this mod to exist in some fashion. While there is an existing one, I have a pretty different take on the character and I want to share it with you all! Every line of dialogue, every heart event, every little detail needs to share something interesting about a character and their world. Yet, Mr. Qi is a mysterious guy, and I think some things should be left up to player interpretation. And I think it's crucial to be able to match his tone and voice to the vanilla game, while also expanding on his characterization. It's a fun challenge to write, and I hope the finished product, uh, well I hope it gets finished mostly, but I think it'll be pretty good.

Thanks for reading all this. This is largely just a stream of consciousness for myself, but I hope it's...interesting, or something?

[txttletale]

I just wanted to let you know that I just found your tumblr within the past week and you have immediately become my 2nd favorite tumblr, being only behind Blogatog. Love your ttrpg takes.

Anywho, you said to ask about flags, so what is your biggest/are your biggest red flags when it comes to ttrpg design?

thank you! i'm glad you enjoy my silly little posts. anyways i think my biggest red flag is unintentionality--the feeling that the writer of a TTRPG has done something by 'default', the inability to put myself in their shoes and understand (or even better, be told by the text itself) the reason why a particular decision has been made.

one of the biggest places this rears its head is in terms of tone and voice. let me quote jay dragon's really good the storyteller technique:

Another advantage of getting to know the narrator of your RPG is that it helps mitigate unconscious bias in your design. Dungeons & Dragons has a notably anthropological narrative voice, explaining other cultures and creatures like a scientist in the field. The language of D&D mimics the writing style of mid-century scientists traveling to “exotic” locations and cataloging non-Western experiences as part of a documentation of the Other. It’s easy for newer designers to want to “write a game like D&D” without regard for how even the narrative voice of Dungeons & Dragons carries unintended political baggage. Is a bird’s-eye and judgemental perspective really the energy you want to bring to your whimsical fantasy world? Or is there another perspective within your world that can be more useful, and allow you to find new perspectives on the world you’ve created.

narrative tone is a choice--the attempt to use a 'neutral' tone for rules text and description is also a choice, how formal and how informal you get with it is a choice, and when i read a text that seems to have made that choice thoughtlessly it imo bodes very poorly for the rest of the game.

other examples of this kind of unintentionality are games that have a comabt system despite not being about combat in any way--games with equipment rules despite them not setting out to tell the sort of story where which sword or gun a character has matters--games that measure themselves in exact distances without actually using a battlemap--&c.

while most of this unintentionality takes the form of 'falling back onto what DND does' because DND is the market leader and many people's first TTRPG, so imitating it without purpose is something that both cynical market-share chasers & unexperienced designers without a wide range of expereicne can do--it's absolutely not unique to it. one form of unintentionality i see a lot in indie TTRPG circles is creating far more Moves for your PBtA game than necessary--clearly more out of a sense that 'AW/MotW/Masks has a Move for this' than any specific understanding of what that move will do in your game

in game design--as in any art--there is no such thing as a 'neutral' choice or a non-choice. there are only choices, and how much someone's thought about these choices is important!

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #169

Not specific lost fics, but I’ve spent weeks looking for fics likes these and haven’t really managed to find any, so we’re throwing them out in the hope our followers know of some!…

1. Hi, do you have a link to a fic where the plot is this; Aziraphale being the angel of queer longing and art and letters and documents and films throughout centuries depicting A and C as impossibly in love with each other? Thank you. - @aroaceblackhole

2. Hello! This is a very odd request but can you help me find a fic where Crowley kills himself and Aziraphale founds out and ALSO kills himself? Or it can be anything in along the line of being killed (Ex: Aziraphale got killed so Crowley kills himself) as long as they both die at the end. I am so sorry if this is super weird to you but i've been trying to find it everywhere but i just can seem to find one. What you are doing here is amazing and i have read such amazing fics because of you. Again, i'm sorry if this request makes you uncomfortable but you're my only chance of actually finding gut wretching fics to violently sob myself to. - anon

3. Hello! I identify with Crowley deeply so if you have a human AU where he treats his abusive parents as a relationship with god I’d appreciate it!! Thank u - @brainwormscauseswisscheese

4. Hello, dear mods! Hope you're having a lovely day. My question is actually 2 mildly relatable questions. I'm looking for humorous fics with either self-mocking or character-mocking author. An example of the latter I saw a long time ago, and it was in the author notes where they joked about something like "well done Crowley, it's not gonna bite you in the ass later in any way, not a chance" and it was a really fun addition, I'm sure some may have put such comments in the text too, but even "they're so dumb" in the notes will do. Example of the former is WyvernQuill's "yes and please and thank you", where they joke right in the text about leaving a character in a tough situation for three years of hiatus, and again, right in the text, do things like "wait, esteemed reader, I'll go check up the synonyms" and proceed with a highly eloquent sentence using like 4 of those. I enjoyed it immensely and would love to find something similar. Thanks! - @greendrawer

5. Hello lovely! I know you have your brilliantly organised tags and I this is an oddly specific ask so I hope you don't mind. Do you have any very fluffy or hurt/comfort ineffable husbands fics with bare skin contact? Not necessarily NSFW or anything, although I don't mind. Thank you! - anon

If you know any fics that fit the bill please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[venic-bxtch]

FIRST CLASS: EX-FRIENDS AND ROSES

DISCLAIMER:This story is fiction, meaning anything done or said by characters is completely fictional and does not reflect on that characters personality. Enjoy!

TW: Cussing, metal objects towards the head, unconsciousness.

Jack showed up at my apartment with a  Louis Vuitton bag, chocolate, and flowers. "Jack! Come in".

He smiled and stepped in, "Where can I put these?"

"Oh. On the counter", I literally could not stop smiling.

"Soo, Jack, whose presents are these?", I asked.

"Yours, of course, Who else". He passed me the presents and I opened the Louis Vuitton bag and saw a wallet that I'd been wanting for the longest time ever.

"Jack! Oh my God! I've been wanting this for the longest time ever, you read my fucking mind".

He nodded his head his head, "Yeah, I mean Chanel told me but that's the same thing either way".

I stopped fawning over my present and looked at him, curious,"Y'all smoothed things over?"

"Yeah, she texted me after the whole Shade Room post, she said she felt bad and I wanted to give you a present-"

I interrupted him, "A present for what?".

"Your new modeling career".He showed me an email on his phone from a modelling agency.

—Dear Mr. Harlow,

We are delighted to inform you that Ms. Dearra Lorenzo has been accepted for representation by Model Machine, based on your referral. Ms. Lorenzo's first shoot is scheduled for March 30. Details will be provided to her shortly. Enclosed are the necessary documents for Ms. Lorenzo's representation. We appreciate your referral and look forward to a successful partnership.

Warm regards,

Clea Atkinson at Model Machine agencies

—————————————

"Jack!", I hugged him and he wrapped his arms around my waist and listed me. I started to cry because I had been doing everything on my own for the longest time ever after my mom had died. "What's wrong Dearra?", "Thank you, Jack, thank you, you're helping me so much", he put me down and put his hands on my shoulders and wiped my tears with his thumb, "You're welcome, Der", "I also wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out with me, maybe on a picnic".

"Yes, of course, Jack!". Jack picked me up and spun me around.

I heard my front door shut and I saw Chanel walk into the kitchen," Hey Der, have you seen my sweater-". Jack turned his head and put me down then sat at the bar table, using his phone.

"Hey Chan" I was still smiling.

"Hey Der, can we talk upstairs?" She asked crossing her arms.

"Sure".

>>>

We go to the second story of my apartment. We sat down in my office. It was small and decorated as much as I could.

"What did you want to talk about Chanel?" I closed the door behind us.

"I'm not over Jack, I lied," she sighed deeply, "I texted him to say sorry about what happened and he asked about giving you a present, he didn't say for what. I'm guessing it was to ask you to be his girlfriend". Be fucking for real, he just met me-, she continued to speak, "I asked him if he wanted to try dating again and he said no. He was really blunt about it and blocked me after", her voice began to shake and she started crying, "I don't like you guys together. Please. Don't go out with him, for me?"

I sniffed."Stop with those crocodile tears, you know they’re fake too.", I crossed my arms,”And if he does ask me out, I will be accepting. Whether you like it or not. Also I literally just met him yesterday, Yesterday! So no, he wouldn't ask me to be his girlfriend in such a short time-", she slapped me across my face. "Bitch..what the fuck!", I went around my desk and slapped her back. She touched her face and opened her mouth slightly. She knocked me in the head with a metal desk figure,I staggered for a few seconds, trying to hold myself up with the armchair as I fell to the ground.

>>>

Jackman T. Harlow

>>>

I heard a very, unnatural loud thud coming from upstairs at Dearra's apartment. My heart dropped as I ran up the stairs to see Dearra on the ground unconscious. I saw Chanel standing over her holding a heavy book, she saw me walk in and put the book down.

"She was yelling at me Jack, s-she attacked me!", she started to cry.

I sighed, "Get out, Chanel, just go home."

I hovered over her body trying to see if she would wake up,"Dearra....wake up!" I shook her body, and sighed again. I called 911.

They took 20 minutes to get to us. I sat down next to her with her hand in mine. Hoping she would wake up.

The ambulance got to the apartment . The EMT asked me if I wanted to go in the ambulance with her. I said yes.

>>>

After a few hours, a nurse told me I could go in and see Dearra.

"Jack, I'm so happy to see your face", "I'm happy to see you too Der."

I sat down next to her on the hospital bed and held her hand, while I smoothed her hair out."How do you feel now?"

She sat up a little and rubbed her eyes," I feel a little better, just a little headache, can you help me get up?"

"Sure. Did they give you medicine for your headache?", I asked as I helped her stand up.

"Nah. But I'll be fine", I nodded in response.

The nurse came in with a clipboard, "Okay, Miss Lorenzo. You can go back home, but you'll need someone to stay with you for at least 3 weeks to a month. Make sure you avoid any loud spaces like concerts, and make sure you get fresh air," she handed Dearra a folder with some things that could help her and her medicine prescription that needed to be picked up at the pharmacy, "Make sure you pick up your medicine, you won't need a refill unless this happens again. Have a nice day!"

>>>

Dearra E. Lorenzo

>>>

Jack was sitting next to me on my bed while the nurse explained some things.

"Well, Jack, you're gonna be stuck with me for a while." I punched his arm playfully.

"I guess so." He teased me back.

"We need a ride to the pharmacy, you know anyone? Besides Chanel, of course."

"I can check.." I scrolled through my contact list and a number I didn't want to see.

My ex-friend, Tatiana's number. I realized that she was really my only choice. I'm not too close with any of my co-workers. We had fallen out after I left Rhode Island. I knew she had recently moved here after I stalked her social media accounts.

I sent her a text asking her to come pick us up.

>>>

twin💗

hey tati

I know it's been a long time,

but can you pick me up from the hospital

Tati💗

Of Course.

You good?

>>>

"Okay, so one of my old friends can pick us up."

"Okay sounds good. I also emailed M&H about what happened. They said they can postpone it for 3 months after those three months, the deal is out."

"Jack. You've done so much for me, I appreciate it."

"No problem. I care about you." He put his hand on my shoulder,"I wassss thinking, to celebrate you starting out your modelling career, we could go on a picnic tomorrow?"

"Yes, absolutely." I smiled.

After a while, Tatiana texted me telling me she was here. I changed out of my hospital clothes into my normal clothes. Jack wrapped his arm around my shoulder while we walked out.

>>>

Tatiana unlocked her car door and started to speak, "Hey Dearra, what happened?" she helped me get into the car and Jack followed.

"Oh me and Chanel fought, she hit me in the head with a tin, and you know about  the whole thing that's going on." Tatiana started the car and I rested my head on Jack's shoulder.

"That bitch, Why were you still even friends with her?"

"I don't even know.."

Tatiana looked in the blind spot mirror.

"Ouuu. Der got herself a styrofoam cup."

"Tati." I laughed.

Jack was shocked, "Wow...I've been through shit. I didn't even do nothing."

>>>

AT THE APARTMENT

>>>

Me and Jack were chilling on my couch. We had gone to Chipotle to get dinner.

"Ima spend the night here and then get some of my shit tomorrow."

"Okay," I said with a yawn, "Ima go take a shower."

"Ight."

I went upstairs to my bathroom and set out my pjs and my robe.

I turned on my radio and played one of my Spotify playlists. Lovin' on me started to play then I started my shower.

After my shower, I put on my pajamas and sat in my bed, scrolling on my phone.

Jack came upstairs with another bouquet, this time it was roses."I ordered them off doordash, here."

I held the roses and patted the spot next to me on my bed for him to sit down next to me.

"Jackman Harlow. I have never met anyone who has treated me like you have."

He smiled at me , "I'm gonna go to the guest room, Good night Der."

"Night Jack."

He got up from my bed and walked out of my room.

I opened up my Instagram and posted a picture of the roses Jack gave me.

>>>>

der.too.fine ✓

Back from the hospital, someone bought me flowers💗 Thank youuuuu

liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, tati_marie, and 2,210 others

—————————-

jackharlow ur welcome

      ⌊der.too.fine 💗💗💗💗💗

urbanwyatt wish I bought them 🥲

         ⌊jackharlow well, too bad😌

         ⌊urbanwyatt rude.

          ⌊liked by der.too.fine and others

user1 why did u go to the hospital?

     ⌊der.too.fine I got hit in the head real bad, but I'm alr now boo✨

     ⌊liked by central.cee, tati_marie, urbanwyatt, and others

tati_marie  we ain't even start talking for too long and u already cheating, damn😞

    ⌊der.too.fine I would never, u my boo

    ⌊tati_marie fr fr 💍💍

central.cee 👀where are the flowers

      ⌊tati_marie wtf, u nasty boy

      ⌊jackharlow [central.cee] didn't you cheat on your ex?🤔

      ⌊druski2funny [central.cee] close your eyes, or I close them for u🔪

      ⌊der.too.fine BAHAHAHAHA

>>>

after I posted on insta I put my phone on charge and was about to go to sleep, but then I saw a text from Chanel.

>>>

Girl who beat me up🐀

Der, I'm sorry

I mean it

please just answer me

I got mad

I saw you're insta post, I'm happy for you

I saw tati's comment

y'all talking now?

                                                                                                                           Dearra

it's Tatiana to u

you have blocked this contact

>>>

I put my phone on my nightstand and went to sleep.

>>>

THE PICNIC DAY

>>>

I woke up in the morning around 10 am the next day.

I stood up from my bed and walked to my closet to find something to wear for my date with Jack.

I found a brown dress and brown heels. I decided I wanted to pair it with a brown designer bag I have.

>>>

The outfit

>>>

I put my outfit on my bed and went to go to my skincare and makeup after my shower. I went downstairs to get some breakfast, I saw Jack chopping up fruit into a bowl.

"Morning Der, how'd you sleep?"

"I slept good, I think it was the medicine, I wonder what they put in there." I sat down at the island counter and set my bag down.

Jack chuckled while he finished up my fruit bowl, "I'm glad you slept well, here's you're breakfast."

"Thank you."I forked up some strawberries and dragon fruit, "Mmm, that's good."

I walked up to my fridge to get some orange juice, Jack took the bottle out of my hand and got a glass out of my cabinet, "Nope, I'll do it, you sit down, Der."

"Okay, fine by me." I sat back down and let Jack pour my orange juice. "Here." he passed my orange juice. I continued eating my fruit. Jack leaned on the counter looking at me and smiling.

"What?"

"You so pretty."

I smiled back at him. "And you're handsome."

His smile grew bigger. "Thank you."

I finished up my breakfast and went to put my dishes in the dishwasher. "We can start heading out, Jack."

"Ight, Ima go start the car." he picked up his car keys, put his phone in his pocket, and went out the door. I  finished packing up the picnic basket then turned off the house lights and locked the door.

>>>

AT A PARK SOMEWHERE IN MIAMI

>>>

Jack took me to a cute private park he had access to.

It was near a small lake and had lots of beautiful trees. We found somewhere to lay our blanket down."This place is so pretty Jack!"

"Yeah it is, I come here sometimes to clear my mind, especially after shows."

I nodded and took my phone out for a selfie. "I can take a picture of you der, I wanna post you on my Instagram, I'll send it to you later."

"Thank you." He opened his camera app and I posed. "Great."

I saw him type on his phone and I got a notification from Jack's instagram.

>>>

jackharlow ✓

My future baby momma(manifesting)

———————————

liked by der.too.fine,urbanwyatt, tati_marie, druski2funny, and others

central.cee damn-

     ⌊jackharlow shush, no one likes u

     ⌊liked by der.too.fine and others

der.too.fine u should be a photographer

      ⌊jackharlow thanks baby

      ⌊dru2funny BABY?

urbanwyatt are u seeing other ppl? 🫢

       ⌊jackharlow yes.

>>>

A/N: 😞 the chapter was garbage, I literally did a rewrite. I had SO MANY plot contradictions. But I tired, more sooooon

-Michelle🎀🌺

[ihopesocomic]

Hi, it's me, that one anon who constantly sends you walls of text where I point out every single detail that I notice in characters' fur colours and eye shapes or their names.

I'm sorry for my long-ass messages but your comic is a wonderful example of how time, creativity and love can create a brilliant creation. I reread your comic often cause I constantly find new details and references. I really think about making a whole document and write down everything I notice. But you know what all of that tells me? How much you love your work and how much time you send on doing it. It's the background (colours of the sky while introducing Diamond, or when Hope and Storm meet when they're older), it's the details (a tree that Diamond and Amber use to climb has claw marks on it, many people would forget to include it there), it's the character designs (the similarities in Hope's family and how you can tell they're family by little details), it's the references to the story itself (Adamant saying that Hope's hunt was intense as a reference to her first hunt) and so much more. I know why I love your comic so much - it's cause you guys love it so much and you put that love in it. Me, and I believe other folks here, will never be greatful enough for creating a comic where we don't have to face sexism, homophobia, ableism, where we have a great representation and we can be inspired to create our own characters and stories. So, thank you <3

As a gesture of my thankfulness (I hope this word exists) I have a pun for you. Get ready!

So I couldn't help but notice that in Fade's description there's a following sentence: "He's determined to earn his father's approval, especially since his older sisters already have it". So can I say that he's afraid that he will fade away (hihi) in the bright and radiant (hihi) lights of his sisters? *ba dum tssss*

No, but seriously, that was intentional?

So, I've been sick and pretty meh over Christmas (just a cold, no biggie) and it's comments like this that always cheer me up. Thank you so much, anon. You're so sweet and we're so happy to hear you're enjoying the comic. You and the rest of our readership and your kind words are truly what inspire us eee

and lolol nice pun. As for Fade's name, we wanted him to be named after his mummy but, at the same time, it's also pretty fitting that he's ended up with the odd name out of his siblings like you've pointed out, yep. I also suspect it'll be fitting in another way as the story carries on too. ;D - RJ