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duhnova · 11 months

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The Kings Gambit: Bound (Teaser)

pairing: lawyer!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

SERIES genre: smut (eventually), slow burn (incredibly slow im sorry), angst, fluff (more is on the taglist form/ will be added as i continue to write)

TEASER genre: fluff, mentions of food, mentions of a gun, humor?

word count: 911 (for the teaser), fic is looking at 40k+

synopsis: Money never came easy for Jeonghan, so when he finally built an empire that’s just his own he’ll do anything to protect it. But when you come into his life it’s like it’s all flipped upside down as he learns you’re more precious to him than the eleven digit number in his bank account.

a/n: there is no posting/completion date for this fic yet so please be patient with me - this is a labor of love (sweat, and tears LITERALLY) and i am sitting at about 21k+ words with A LOT more to go. i will be posting the fic to my ao3 as well, there it'll be one big thing versus here i will probably have to break it up into parts to keep tumblr from imploding on itself. (so if you want the full fic all at once i'd follow my ao3 but you're in no way obligated too! the full fic will be published here regardless <3). i might post more teasers and behind the scenes in the future as i write more just because of how long this fic is going to be.

collab masterlist || taglist || bound masterlist (coming soon...)

“Now I see why Joshua likes you so much.” He stepped closer, only stopping when he notices the way she shifts, like she was uncertain of him. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” She mumbles wearily, not to sure of Jeonghans intentions. “I’m Mr. Hongs assistant.”

“Y/N?” He tests her name out, loving the way it tastes on his tongue and loving even more the way her jaw clenches a little. “It’s nice to meet you.” He sticks his hand out for her to shake, the coat that was resting loosely on his shoulders shifted.

“Nice.. To meet you too.” Y/N mumbles, shaking his hand almost hesitantly.

“So, how’d you come about working for grumpy ol Shua?” Jeonghan lets his arm fall to hide within his jacket again.

“He uh..” She clears her throat, allowing her voice to come out stronger. “He pulled my file from the old company I was working for and decided he wanted me to work for him instead and now here I am.” She shrugs like its the most obvious thing in the world.

“Sounds like something he would do, he hates having others come to him. He’d rather hunt on his own so he knows what he’s getting himself into y’know?” He looks down at his watch to check the time, tsking quietly.

“Yeah I know.” She looks up at the clock to mimic Jeonghan's action.

“Why’d you take up his offer?” His eyes went straight back to staring into hers. “I assume its cause he offered you more?”

“Partially.” Is all she gives him to work with.

“Oh?” His interest was peaked double now at her vagueness.

“I just wanted out of there, thats all. Why do you care anyways?” She gives him a suspicious look.

“I don’t care actually, I’m just trying to kill time.” He shrugs his shoulders before checking his watch again. “Which leads me to ask, do you have any plans for lunch?” He looks at her through his eyelashes before looking at his wrist again, watching the second hand tick.

“Excuse me?” She frowns confused.

“Well I have a reservation for two at this italian restaurant downtown and since Shua flaked on me to meet one of his girls I assume, I’m down a lunch partner now.” He tries to gauge her feelings but her face is still set in a confused downturn.

“What, is day drinking alone at noon too taboo for you Yoon?” The way she crosses her arms and smirks playfully tells him she left all the formalities out on purpose just to tick him off.

“It’s Mr. Yoon.. Or sir if that floats your boat more, sweetheart.” He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, enjoying the way she swallows before scoffing.

“And its Y/N sir.” Jeonghan smirks, his teeth on display before hes tilting his head a little.

“Do you want to join me for lunch Y/N?”

“Something is telling me to say no but I’m starving and in desperate need of a margarita.” She lets her shoulders slump a little. “So yes, I’ll join you for lunch Mr. Yoon.”

“Whose the day drinker now huh?” He laughs a little when she shoots him a glare.

“Do you think I’d get fired if I cut your tongue out?” Y/N finally moves away from the desk so she could walk around Jeonghan to grab her coat that she hung up when she first entered the office earlier.

“I’m sure Shua would give you a raise, he wouldn’t have to listen to me anymore.” Jeonghan snorts as he moves to open the door for her, letting her exit the room first.

“Thank you.” She gives him a small nod as she walks out and down the hall, barely giving him time to close the door behind himself and catch up before shes calling for an elevator.

“So how old are you?” He tried to make small talk now that an awkward silence fell over them.

“I’m twenty-four..” She clutches her jacket a little. “You?”

“Twenty-eight..” He bites his tongue so he doesn’t let it slip that he still had a birthday to get to this year. The elevator dings, signaling its arrival and it causes another awkward silence to fall over the two of them as they have a straight ride down to the lobby.

“Hey Y/N!” Hoshis voice calls from the front desk where he was sitting in for one of the receptionists while they took their break. “I tried to tell Mr. Yoon that Mr. Hong wasn’t here but he wouldn’t listen.. Sorry bout that.” He laughs sheepishly causing her to give him a gentle smile.

“It’s quite alright, me and him are actually going to get some lunch so I’ll see you in an hour or so?” She gives him a small wave as Jeonghan ghosts his hand on her lower back, guiding her in the correct direction while shes distracted.

“So you can smile.” He hisses a little when she jabs her elbow into his side, hissing herself when she hit something hard.

“What was that?” She huffs, rubbing her elbow a little.

“Thats where I keep my gun.” He mumbles, side eyeing the people around them as he leads her towards the side street he had to park on since he left his pass to get into their private garage on his desk.

“You have a gun?” Y/N gives him an incredulous look.

reblogs + feedback is greatly appreciated!

#svthub #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan smut #jeonghan angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #˗ˏˋ the kings gambit ˎˊ˗

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forever-1895 · 7 months

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CALLING ALL Since I First Saw Your Face fans

Let's work together and post as many supportive things about this story so hopefully the author sees and feels motivated to update!

In case you don't know, Since I First Saw Your Face by Stavia_Scott_Grayson on ao3 (@artemisastarte on Tumblr) rewriting the Sherlock Holmes books from the point of view of Holmes. It very realistically develops the relationship between this iconic duo, taking into account the events which would have happened at that time in history (e.g. Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885, Jack the Ripper 1888, etc), and the period typical homophobia is shockingly well researched. Even the concerts Holmes & Watson go to actually happened at the times stated in the story.

At the start of each chapter, there is a painful (3rd person) recording of the time Holmes spent abroad toiling after Moran (the late Moriarty's right hand man) during the hiatus (after faking his death at the Reichenbach Falls); about how he wishes above all to return to England and see Watson again, whom he misses in extremity.

Holmes receives news from England via Mycroft (his brother), which updates him about the state of affairs in England. Apparently, Watson has been wasting away after his wife's & Holmes' death. Mycroft tells Holmes that if he doesn't return quickly, Watson may be no more.

However, Holmes cannot return, as some things still need sorting out. He does however, ask Mycroft to send Watson The Sigerson Papers, an account written by Holmes under the name of Sigerson about the things he experienced in Asia. Watson notices that Sigerson is a lot like Holmes, and asks Mycroft whether his beloved is still alive.

However, even after finding out Holmes is still alive, Watson's condition doesn't improve. He feels betrayed. 3 years of hell, and Holmes was lying to him the whole time. He still loves Holmes, but all the same, he is not pleased.

Mycroft sends to Holmes about this, and Holmes is torn between homesickness and the fear that Watson will no longer like him. Holmes bides his time in Asia, until one day a letter from Watson arrives, telling him that he knows that Holmes is scared to return for fear of how he might react, and that though he is angry, he still loves him and wishes more than anything to have him back.

After a section detailing Holmes in Asia post-hiatus, there will be a recounting of events years ago, starting from when Holmes first met Watson, who was very weak and ill after returning from the army. Holmes takes a liking to him almost instantly, though he tries not to show it. Holmes describes moving in together, and even pays their landlady (Mrs. Hudson) to provide extra nutritious food for Watson so he might recover faster.

Holmes helps Watson get over his Soldier's Heart (PTSD, I think), Watson accompanies Holmes to cases, Holmes plays the violin for hours on end just for Watson's enjoyment, they go to concerts together, and support each other when one is feeling depressed.

All while this happens, Holmes tells us of his struggles of hiding his sexuality and desire from Watson, the struggles he has fighting his drug addiction, and the struggles of being an invert (homosexual) in the late 18th to early 19th century.

We also have some VERY tense scenes for when Watson is being too kind to Holmes and Holmes is about to let his feelings pour out his mouth like a waterfall, but fear of rejection holds him back.

It builds up to Holmes & Watson first meeting Moriarty at a concert, and then all the trouble starts from there.

Moriarty is constantly trying to cause distress for Holmes, first sending an anonymous letter to the police accusing of the two of sodomy, a terrible crime at the time period, taking advantage of multiple female murders and framing Watson for having committed them, and though disproved, it shows how close Moriarty can get to Holmes without even appearing; it's always one of Moriarty's goons who does it for him.

Moriarty threatens Holmes to end his association with the good doctor at another concert some years later or he will never cease trying to condemn Watson, and sooner or later, he'll succeed in ruining him.

All this unfolds while Watson is chatting animatedly to a Mrs Forrester and a Miss Mary Morstan in another area of the concert hall...

And that's what's happened so far. There's a LOT more, but I don't have time to write it all 😝.

In conclusion, post-hiatus: Holmes is still in Asia pining for Watson, Watson is pining for Holmes in England, and pre-hiatus: Watson has just met Mary, and Moriarty is stirring up a ruckus. SO NOW DO YOU SEE WHY WE NEEEED AN UPDATE? IM DYING HERE!

and to make y'all feel better, in case you haven't read it yet, Watson does reciprocate Holmes affections

#holmes x watson #sherlock holmes #johnlock #artemisastarte #since i first saw your face #pining #wip #ao3 #pls reblog #spread the word

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cheesecakezyum · 2 years

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Sun Wukong's courtings, please?

Being Courted By Wukong <3

Yay! They’re here! I 100% didn’t expect all the positivity my other posts have received— and I still have around 3-4 more requests just following through the idea.

I need to pay more attention to my Ao3 account as well, so my time is going to be split up going forward. I just wanted to get things started on here for future plans! alsomayhavebeenabittooinvestedwiththeseideasyouguysaregivingme.

This one might be a bit shorter! Demon courting is overall pretty similar with both monkeys, but I still added + changed some things.

But yeah! Let’s get to it, shall we?

─────────────────

♡- You couldn't seem to shake the feeling in your noggin that something was definitely wrong. Not with you, nothing has changed whatsoever. You considered your life to be quite normal actually! If you ignored the whole ‘monkey king is your closest companion’ dilemma.

♡- Like I’ve stated in my previous post, I like to believe that demons have natural, more primal centered instincts despite how modernized they’ve overall become. A reminder of their past origins and rituals in rural times. The monkey king is no exception with this matter. Especially when thoughts of courting you come into play.

♡- Building a friendship with someone like you was never something he’d be able to foresee, but destiny apparently had its way this time.

♡- Not like he minds, but the monkey king actually fell for you without paying too much attention to it.

♡- But it didn’t bug him as much as he initially expected. If anything, it cleared the air! That's why he found teasing you more fun, why your laugh gave him such a serotonin boost, why he kept staring at your lips. And why he was still thinking about you more than necessary.

♡- It definitely takes Wukong a while to even realize these feelings. Not that it’s necessarily impossible for them to come, not at all! He was just used to seeing everyone in a platonic light until it just hit him.

“You think they’d like this?”

“ Imagine their face if they saw that!”

“Oh.”

♡- You’re just.. intoxicating? Yeah. Something like that. He’s so utterly interested about you and your life– expect questions galore from him just about your daily routines. This delves into the courting aspect as well! Would ask you what your favorite food is, movie, hobby– specifically for things to bring you in the future. It can be a bit nagging at times, definitely. But you knew he had nothing but good intentions.

♡- Would attempt to watch anything you like for more opportunities to talk to you and open up to him.

♡- He’ll constantly tell you about all his adventures. Come on, he just has to tell you how cool he is and worthy of being your mate! You’d definitely accept him then!

♡- The staring is something you caught onto fairly quickly. Plenty of times he’s been seen in a daze of sorts, just… gazing at you. Wukong’s utterly clueless about it, at least until you decide to mention it.

♡- Isn’t afraid whatsoever to be blunt about it when caught in the act as well! Why hide his feelings when his whole job is to win you over?

“Hey, are you even listening? Helloooo?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah. Did you know how much I love your smile?” he wasn’t listening.

♡- Compliments galore! The way you did your hair, how you look so good doing a certain activity– He isn’t lying when he says he just can’t get enough of you.

♡- Holding your hand, always. Extremely physical with you in general really, but now it’s been more saccharine? Just, sentimental– sweet. Hugging you from behind with his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin propped over your shoulder etc etc.

♡- There have been plenty of times where all he’s needed was to be held or hold you– but now it's close to a daily routine. This includes rubbing his face all over you– especially your neck.

♡- 100% because he wants other demons to know that he’s pursuing you. When he notices you’ve showered, will not let you go until you’re practically drowning in the smell of ambrosia and peaches. You’re usually stuck there for a while.

♡- It tickles too. ALOT. You can’t help but wiggle in Wukong’s grasp as his fur brushes against your collarbone, which mildly annoys him. Just stay still for once! Not like you can help it anyways, with his superior physical strength; You’re basically forced to succumb to the torture.

♡- Grooming you isn’t a common occurrence, but he loves instead being groomed BY you. Will rest his head on your lap and just let you brush through his mane, or lay in between your legs as you untangle the knots that have been building up.

♡- This man will purr. Most of the time it’s quiet, but you can tell by the faint vibrations. Gets really fussy if you mention it to him though. Not like he even attempts to hold it in.

♡- Will discreetly give you his merch and overall memorabilia. Keychains? Slide them on your keys when you’re not looking. Shirts? Throw them in your closet.

♡- And when you actually wear them? Mann is he absolutely wrecked. Even if it’s just to sleep in, it makes him happy!

♡- It wouldn’t take him too long before he’d bring up the question he’s been waiting to ask. Impatience at its finest.

♡- It’d be after a long day of overall enjoying each other’s company. Whether it be a stroll, binging a show, overall nothing too grand; But comfortable— domestic.

“Sooo… how did I do?”

“What?”

“Courting you!”

“Oh.”

♡- You quickly pieced together that everything he’d been doing was all adding up to that. And surprisingly, you didn’t mind? It was just.. different.

“What’s courting to you, Wukong?”

♡- The rest of the night would be a long conversation, both of you comparing both human and demon courting rituals and such. Who knew it was so different! The two of you definitely had some research to do.

─────────────────

Hopefully this will suffice <3

#being absolutely milked dry here lol #no procrastination!!! YIPEE!!#even if I’m dead tired now #SO MANY REQUESTS #lego monkie kid #lmk #monkie kid #lmk x reader #sun wukong #lmk wukong #sun wukong x reader #wukong headcanons #I said noggin #TEEHEE

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writingquestionsanswered · 8 months

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Feeling Weird About Promoting Stories

Anonymous asked: How do I get over being ashamed to promote my story more? While I definitely write for myself, I like a bit of validation as well but I'm too shy and feel a bit...cheap? There's a person in my writing community who goes around begging people to read their stuff. They keep track up to where you've left comments, and then asks why haven't you commented on their other chapters. They also passive aggressively say nobody likes their stuff enough to leave comments and other things to guilt people into guilt reading their stuff. I've been encouraged by friends to market my stories more, but I just can't bring myself to do it because I feel like I'm in the same boat as this person.

(Ask was edited for length...)

First, I want to be clear that what this person (in your writing community) is doing isn't promoting themselves. It's nagging and badgering, and if they ever try that as a fiction writer, they'll have a very short career.

What they're doing is like hitting someone over the head repeatedly with a pillow. Promoting your story is like standing there holding a sign that shows information about your story. You're not asking anyone to read your story. You're not badgering them by appealing to their sympathy or sense of guilt. You're literally just saying, "Here's my story..." It's up to them whether or not they want to check it out.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with or shameful about promoting your work/product. If there was, we wouldn't have TV commercials, print ads, movie trailers, billboards, etc. The key is to do it in a way that doesn't annoy or badger your potential "customer." When promoting books and stories, that means doing it in a way that's quick, interesting to the reader, and not doing it so frequently that they get sick of hearing from you.

Many fan-fiction writers have a social media account associated with their writing which they can use to help drive traffic to their stories. So, for example, an Instagram, Tumblr or Facebook page. The link to this social media would also be shared at the bottom of each story to give fans a place to stay updated on your writing.

A promotional post would look like...

1 - A text post with a little teaser or hook:

Hi, everyone! I just updated Two Balls of Yarn over at AO3. Let's just say this is the chapter where everything goes sideways. You can check it out here: [link to story on AO3, username, or whatever]

2 - A graphic: for example, a book cover for your story, a mood board or aesthetic, a gif set, or story art, along with a caption that says something along the lines of what's up above in #1. Alternatively, it could say something like: Two Balls of Yarn, updated 9/3/23, available here...

If you're have a story in progress that you're posting every week or so, you would do such a promo post every time you update. However, once every few days or so, you might also choose to promo an older story. Depending on the social media platform, you may also want to do other types of posts occasionally, such as episode reviews (if for a TV show), reblogs of fan-art or gif sets related to the fandom, etc. You might even share links to other writers' stories that you really enjoyed.

Also, and this is SO important... 90% of success when promoting on social media is reciprocal engagement. In other words, if you want people to read, like, and comment on your stories, you need to read, like, and comment on other people's stories.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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thesparklingwriter · 10 months

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a technological affair

" And thus, his email was lost to the grips of hackers."

tags: modern au, pet names, gn!reader (use of wife), established relationship, zhongli cannot use a phone for the life of him, reader is an Apple enjoyer,

ao3 link | taglist | masterlist | next

As far as you’re concerned, Zhongli is the closest thing to perfection a man could ever be. Except for one very minor detail. He cannot, for the life of him, use a phone.

Which could be blamed on his 30,000 year old android, with a screen that barely functions and a cracked camera, and you really can't let him go out like that. So one day, as an advance on your anniversary gift for him, you decide to welcome him to the wonderful world of the iPhone.

“What’s this?” Zhongli says, opening the box carefully. “What have I done to warrant such a gift?” he holds the phone in his hands as if it’s a baby chick—you bought him one of the bigger phones, knowing his hands are large, and even still he could do with something bigger.

“You dropped your phone in the toilet and I can’t allow you to continue using it. You have to understand.” You grin. “So I got you a new one that actually works and when you tap the screen, it actually registers it.”

Zhongli looks at you with gratitude but also an inkling of confusion. What’s he going to do with this fancy, characterless lump of metal that he couldn't do with his old phone? “I appreciate this, my love, I really do. But I don’t know if this is going to be as good of an idea as you think it is.”

You scoff, pulling him into a hug. “Zhongli, I would like to actually hear my husband when I call him. I would like to understand the texts he sends to me. And I would also like to send him pictures of cute cats on Instagram.”

And of course, Zhongli couldn’t possibly deny you anything you ask of him, so he agrees to try to navigate this new phone with as much positivity and faith as he can possibly muster.

In the few weeks since you bought him the phone, he has managed to:

(1) Lock himself out of it. For a whole week. You asked him how he managed to do that and he didn’t seem too sure as to what he’d done. So you asked him if you could know his password and promised only to use it in situations like this. (And promptly cried when you realised his password was your birthday.)

(2) Get his email hacked. He’d approached you with excitement, saying: “Dear, look. I got an email saying I’ve won a Macbook.” To which you replied: “You can barely use your phone, we might need to leave the macbook on the back burner for a while. Who sent the email?”. The email was sent by [email protected] and contained a link, which Zhongli had happily pressed. And thus, his email was lost to the grips of hackers.

(3) Find the dictation and voice note feature, which is great. He gives you encyclopaedic updates to his day, which you read or listen to with genuine enthusiasm. This was what you bought him the phone for at the end of the day, right? The extra chance to connect with your husband?

(4) Get into the habit of sending you pictures of things that make him happy or that remind him of you. Which is essentially the same thing as far as he is concerned. You’ve also got used to sending them back.

(5) Make an Instagram account. He’s not great at it, but with some guidance, he manages to post some of the pictures he sends you.

(6) Accidentally message the group chat (you, Xiao, Ganyu, Madame Ping and some others use it to invite each other to dignified tea parties and movie marathons) his shopping list. The shopping list included all the things he was getting for you as part of your anniversary gift, so Xiao had to teach him how to delete the message so you wouldn’t see it.

But by the time your next anniversary comes around, he’s actually really good with it—he can use instagram better than you can (though he read the terms and conditions from start to finish and became very careful about how he uses it), orders things from amazon at least three times a week, and has a facebook group for fellow birdwatchers with about two hundred people in it.

Yes, he has all of his icons and text at the largest size possible, and yes, he refuses to use TikTok and favours Instagram reels, but when he’s on work trips or you’re visiting friends elsewhere in the world, it’s nice to be able to video call him and not feel as distant as you used to.

“I think this phone might have been the best gift you’ve ever gotten me, dearest.” he says one night, after discovering the kindle app, where he can find all the classic novels he loves so much without having to clear out bookshelf space.

You sit in bed together, simply talking about your respective days, both your phones banished to charge in another room. Of course, being able to use a phone doesn’t mean that you should at all times—the phone banishment rule had initially just existed for you, but the rules had to accommodate the new technical whiz in the house.

“What about the gift that is me?” you counter, nuzzling into his chest gleefully. He kisses you deeply, a smile on his lips as he pulls away.

“Nothing on this earth is better than the gift that is you.”

“Not even your group of birdwatchers?”

“I did get to see a wonderful example of a nearly extinct sparrow with beautiful colouring last week,” he teases. “But no, they could never be better than my beloved.”

notes: you all have cael to thank for this hilarious prompt idea. this is why you should always make friends with people on tumblr they always slay.

taglist: @medusuu @aixaingela @thelonelyarchon @ainescribe

#[🌷]—sponsored by cael #tswzhongliflufftober #zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli fluff #genshin fluff #zhongli x reader #fanfiction #zhongli fanfic #zhongli flufftober #flufftober #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact fan fiction #ganshin fan fiction #genshin zhongli #zhongli genshin x reader #zhongli genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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cannellee · 15 days

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how did you get so good at writing? i'm so deprived of Tokyo Rev content (not that there isn't alot but I read so much that I basically refresh AO3 and tumblrs tags every day to see if anything new has been posted), that i'm almost to the breaking point of a Thanos "fine i'll do it myself" and starting up writing again Is it just practice? Is it better to post cringey writing that isn't that good ;-; I think I fall into the trap of making any OC or y/n Mary Sue and some authors write with such prose and emotion that i'm like dang how can I write like that love your work!!!! always re-reading <3

first of all thank you so much for all of your kind messages!!! you're literally so sweet😭

(I really tried to be useful and concise, I hope it's not too messy/long : i'm definitely not a real author so my tips might be really bad and specific too😭)

I actually started writing tokyorev abo content precisely because of that reason, I felt like I read everything about it and I couldn't find anything more, especially one with scenarios I actually like. this is why I started my blog!

I honestly wasn't so sure about opening my own blog on tumblr. of course you're bound to compare your work to other authors out there who are definitely wayyy better at writing than you, which is why I hesitated a lot.

but! I already had an account on wattpad where I posted fics, so I felt like my cringey era was behind me (it was easier for me to start here because i knew what my mistakes were when writing and what i struggled with. whereas, when i just started on wattpad, i really felt unsure if i was doing correctly + i was younger, so less sure of myself). but wattpad really helped me see what made my work cringey, what parts were unnecessary and stuff like that.

but what is so frustrating is how bad my writing is in english compared to how I'm able to write in my maternal language. like, when I read other posts and everything with better vocabulary, grammar, who know how to articulate sentences and words, you can tell it's something you can only achieve by being reallyyy comfortable with english. I'm not saying I struggle with english or anything, but the language barrier was one of my biggest doubts when I thought about starting posting fics here on tumblr.

also! when I write something and think it's cringey, I let it marinate for a few days and read it again. it's easier to judge my writing when I put some distance with it, then I correct my mistakes and stuff like that. but really, writing and writing is the only way you'll be able to improve, so it should really not stop you!

but in the end, I don't think anybody ever started writing fics and was automatically good at it. you really have to try and see what works and what doesn't. youre able to see what post gets more attention than the other and try and understand why : is it because of a character or the scenario was better or is it your writing ? feedbacks on your work really help actually, so don't be afraid to try even if youre not fully convinced and confident! I posted cringey stuff too and I still do sometimes😭 I know people do a wayy better job than me, but I really like to write so I don't let it stop me from posting.

and for the y/n character, I try to make her and her reactions as neutral as possible and make her do stuff anyone would do in those situations. but I honestly can't deny that I sometimes fall into those stereotypical y/n writing, which I actually enjoy☠️. but I really try to have her say normal stuff, not describe her too much and basically just think of her as the most basic girl you could meet (generic ahh traits : kind, sweet, bubbly, soft spoken...). some people hate that and some don't, I just write what I'm most comfortable with.

same, if you to start writing you should start by doing stuff and scenarios which you really like and inspire you. don't go and try to write something you know people will like, but rather something you're confident in writing because that's a character you like and know how to describe, and because you have so much ideas which would really fit him etc.

and what helped me are the headcanons with the lists. maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't, but I used to list stuff when I started posting. it's just easier to structure my ideas, to see them more clearly. writing huge paragraphs are actually more of a hardwork I think, because everything has to follow the precedent idea and it has to be comprehensible, linked to what you're gonna say next etc. if you list what you wanna say, you can talk about how a character's personality is like and then change the subject radically without having to think and care about the transitions and overall plan (of course if it's too out of pocket it looks weird, but I hope you understand what I mean)

and if you want to write stories and not do little headcanons, what I do when I'm stuck and don't know what to write is that I also sometimes only write a part I really like and leave the beginning (or any other part) for another time when I'll be more inspired. I really don't have any hierarchy when I'm trying to find ideas, I wait for them to come naturally. I don't know what else I could say, it's really messy lmao😭

I hope you found it useful! you definitely will find people who write way better than me and who can help and guide you better than that, with better tips... that was more like my experience on tumblr than anything else, but I hope it could help you!!

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flowerpotmage · 10 months

Text

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (6)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for series: slow burn, ambiguous relationship, found family dynamics, reader is in their late 20s. for chapter: miguel being... well. if you're here you're familiar with his shit. references to offscreen deaths. panic attacks and grief

Word Count: 3.5k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Author's Note: hiii!! you must be thinking "wtf, it's not monday/sunday where tumblr user flowerpotmage is?" and you'd be correct! i'm posting this chapter on my sunday before my night shift, as i'll be away from my laptop on monday/tuesday while i visit my mom.

i'm a little nervous about this chapter for some reason, so i rly rly hope you like it <3

Miguel does not think he’s catastrophizing.

He’s sure that Jess would disagree, if he confided in her what he was thinking. Scratch that, he knows she would if she knew any of what he was doing.

Peter probably would, too. Shocking Peter. If Miguel knew how many shocking Peter Parkers he’d have to deal with on a day to day basis he probably would have thought twice about inventing the damn multiversal watch.

So, as of now, Lyla is the only one saying anything about his behavior. She’s the only one who knows.

“I think you’re catastrophizing, boss.”

“I am not.”

“And I think you owe them an apology.”

Miguel doesn't disagree, but... “What do you know, Lyla? You’re a LYrate Lifeform Approximation.”

“A very good one with a deep understanding of human relationships and emotions since you lifted me out of being locked to your apartment and got me that upgrade from your old friend, Miguel.”

He huffs.

“I think you're self sabotaging out of a PTSD induced fear of loss.”

“Dios mío, Lyla, okay, will you just let me out of this damn bathroom?!”

Lyla does let him out, eventually (despite his growls of “Vete a la chingada!” when she initially refused), but it doesn't mean she leaves him alone. It's not that she keeps pestering him directly on the subject, but rather that she pokes at it around the edges, a toothpick testing the crust of bread in the oven. Little comments about how you would have been the perfect backup for this or that anomaly event, (“They’re benched until they’re healed, do not ping them.”) or randomly wondering aloud what you might be up to when he’s in the kitchen rinsing a plate (that immediately breaks under his abruptly tightened grip).

And his sleep is terrible. It's been a week and a half since he stepped foot in your dimension, longer since—

He tries not to think about it.

“You know, I can think of something that would help with that,” Lyla practically taunts him late at night when he's trying in vain to relax enough to find sleep

“No.”

The thing is, he shouldn't have gotten so used to it in the first place. Shouldn't have become dependent on you for a good night's sleep. Because how shocking embarrassing, crawling into your comrade’s bed like a child who can’t sleep without their parents.

But it helped. And Miguel had never been the best with impulse control.

Dana was proof enough of that, even before everything changed.

And now Gabriella, too.

He lets his mind wander to her, far more willing to linger on the ache of grief and well-deserved guilt than any fresh hurt. A reminder of why he does the work he does, validation for why he keeps everything where it is, why he tries not to let the other Spiders get too close.

He’s royally shocked that last one up, that's for sure.

You hear about the new Miguel before you see him from small group passing you in the hallway where you’re waiting to ambush Peter and chew him out for yesterday’s antics. Secretly, you’re also there because you're curious about this other Miguel and want to get a look at him when he arrives, mostly because of your Miguel having been so firmly against you joining the recruiting team.

So you’re waiting, casually, just past the opening where the lobby opens out into the larger HQ, when you overhear them.

“He’s so much friendlier,” comes one Spider-Woman’s hushed voice.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen our Miguel smile so much,” a Spider-Man replies. “Even if it is with closed lips.”

They pass by, off to wherever they’re headed, and then you hear Peter’s voice approaching just around the corner.

“Yeah, whoever designed the place had a real one for architecture–”

You push yourself off the wall, turning on the ball of your foot to stand in the doorway and block his path.

“Peter.” You greet him with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, feet planted shoulder-width apart. You vaguely register Jessica Drew and the very, very tall familiar figure beside her, but you have your sights forcibly fixed firmly on Peter for now.

Play it cool.

“Oh, there’s Garden-Spider!”

“It’s just Spider,” you suppress a smile, rolling your eyes. “He likes to call me that because I have so many pla…” You turn your gaze to the new Miguel, voice dying in your throat.

The first thing you notice about the new Miguel is how similar—no, nearly identical he looks to the one you already know. His hair is slightly different, a lock of it falling across his forehead instead of pushed back. His suit is darker, more matte and black instead of blue, and he’s wearing sunglasses even though you're all indoors.

But none of that is what killed your sentence dead in its tracks. Because the second thing you notice is how when he sees you, he looks like he’s encountered a ghost.

Peter, of course, goes to introduce you two, waving off your comment about his nickname for you. “New Miguel, this is–”

New Miguel whispers your name in what can only be utter disbelief.

“Oh boy,” Jess says.

“Um,” you say dumbly, the confidence in your posture going a bit slack.

To his credit, the new Miguel seems to pull himself together fairly quickly. He closes his mouth, and you recognize a familiar twitch in his jaw muscle just before his throat bobs in a nervous swallow.

“Sorry,” he says. “I just—didn’t expect…” he gives an apologetic, borderline sheepishly wry smile, and you see a glint of sharp teeth—of fangs—and suddenly you understand his slight mumbling, why he doesn’t open his mouth too wide. “Figures that there’d be a version of you that’s the hero out here in the multiverse.”

You give a nervous, forgiving smile and hold out your hand. “Sorry. Earth-7723,” you introduce yourself.

He looks at your hand, eyes glancing back up at you behind his tinted glasses before he accepts it with his own.

“Miguel, but I’m guessing you already know the other me I’m hearing about. Earth-209.”

“Earth-209 in the year 2099,” you quip. “Fun.”

He lets loose the barest chuckle, more of an amused huff really, as if the tension in his body won’t let him laugh properly. If you weren’t so familiar with your Miguel’s body language you probably wouldn’t have even noticed. It feels strange, being able to read a complete stranger so well. You wonder if he’s having the same experience, and how well he knows the you from Earth-209—because clearly he does know another version of you—and you also wonder if it’s as strange for him as it is for you to see such a familiar face on a stranger.

“Yeah,” he agrees, letting go of your hand; his own falls to his side. “Very fun.”

“We should get you to the Boss’s lab and introduce you,” Peter says after glancing between the two of you.

Jess nods. “I agree. You probably have questions.”

“You’re not off the hook,” you say to Peter with a pointed finger, trying to dredge back up your earlier determined mischief, doing your best to set aside the dizzy surrealism and unbalanced feeling from the brief interaction with Miguel 209.

“What did I ever do to you?” Peter says as the group begins to pass.

“Oh, don’t play innocent after that stunt yesterday.”

“What stunt?” Jess asks, raising an eyebrow, starting to smile.

“Oh, he knows.” You mirror her expression with your own raised eyebrow.

“Nope, I don’t. Bye!” Peter waves, hurrying the group along.

“No, I wanna know what's got Garden-Spider out for revenge,” Jess says even as she walks off with the two men, giving you a wave and a smile.

You watch them go, your arms now more wrapped around your middle than crossed. The new Miguel, Miguel 209, turns to look at you over his shoulder like he needs to check that you’re real.

You give him your own small smile and lift a hand in your own little farewell wave—one that he returns with a matching and equally small smile and the ghost of something sad in his brow as he turns back to watch where he’s walking.

The circumstances under which you had met your Miguel were much different. Part of your story was actually quite similar to Gwen’s, and many other Spider-People: hiding your identity from those you love, balancing the two worlds until one encroached on the other, a full scale incursion that ended in more than one life ruined and at least one snuffed out. An unavoidable event by all accounts, according to Miguel’s theory of canon events and every article about grief and guilt and control that you’ve read since.

It turns out that when you have great power, and a great deal of self-appointed responsibility, the guilt stage is hardest to overcome.

Then your dimension had its first anomaly. A copper steam-powered Rhino had wreaked a path of destruction through the underground subway. It was a miracle that nobody was killed. Well, more accurately it was because of him that people were able to walk away with their lives.

Once the scene had cleared, the panic hit you, raw and fresh as the cracked rubble. Damaged walls brought to mind an image of an entirely different event featuring more structural damage and death. As a result, when he went looking for the Spider he had helped in order to invite them to join his effort to keep the worlds intact, he found you where you were crouched behind a cracked pillar. Your knees were to your chest, your head in your hands, and your breath ragged.

“Hey,” he said, voice low as he knelt on one knee in front of you, barely more than a foot and a half away. “It’s okay. You did it.”

You looked up at him, your hands still cradled your head and your eyes now wide under your mask.

He had a hand held out to you, stretched out in an offer to help with standing up.

You glanced at it, at him, back at the hand. With a sharp movement that seemed to startle even his apparently cool and collected self, your hand darted out and grasped his, squeezing tight. He began to stand. You shook your head, and he froze.

“Sorry,” you managed to gasp out. “I ju—“ a desperate gasp for air interrupted your words, but you managed to continue: “I just need a second.”

He settled back down onto his knee. His hand adjusted to hold yours more gently.

“Breathe,” he said gently.

You did. And then you said: “You have a cool suit. What’s your deal?”

“I— what?”

“Your— your suit,” you said with a shaky, breathy laugh. “I like it.”

He hummed, a quiet thoughtful sound. “Thank you.”

“What’s your deal?” You asked again. “You’re… like me. But I haven’t seen you before.”

Then he gently squeezed your hand, letting go to rest his arm on his knee.

“I’m from another dimension.”

You linger around Earth-928, wandering and pacing the criss-crossed beams of Spider-HQ, exchanging polite hellos with other Spider-People.

Word about the new Miguel—Miguel-209—the one you can only refer to with clarifiers in your head because he’s not your Miguel and you need to differentiate or you’ll feel even more off kilter than you already do, has spread fast.

“I can’t believe there’s going to be another Miguel around.”

“Do you think he’ll co-lead?”

“I wonder how similar they look.”

“I bet he’s just as serious.”

“Do you think he’s as much of a leader type, or nah?”

“I heard he’s just as built–”

You swing up to one of the little used alcoves, a little space that feels like a cozy waiting room or one of those places in that mall you had found yourself in when you visited California as a child, styled with almost too firm armchairs and potted plants that gave the quiet corner the illusion of being shielded from passersby.

That’s where Jess finds you, strolling into the space like her belly has no impact on her.

You offer her a slight smile and a glance in greeting, shifting in your window seat to face her better when she takes a seat across from you, hand resting on her stomach.

“I think you need to talk to Miguel.”

“Which one?” you can’t help it, your mouth quirking up at the corners.

She chuckles. “Well, probably both at some point. But I’d give the new one some time to… adjust.”

You nod, then nod again at her belly. “Looks like everything’s still going well?”

She nods, smiling. “Last check up went great. Ten fingers and toes, two eyes, the whole nine yards.” (You hold back the impulse to quip ‘Wow, that’s a big baby.’) She pauses, and then sighs. “Listen. I’m sorry about the meeting yesterday.” When you look at her with a questioning frown, she elaborates: “Peter told me you hadn’t gotten the schedule.”

You look down, picking at nonexistent dirt on your suit. This one is new, a remake after your previous one had gotten shredded in the road-rash incident. “It’s fine, really. Miguel probably assumed I was still on… medical leave.” The last two words come out more bitter than you had intended.

Jess just watches you. “Your hands doing okay?”

You shift slightly, pulling off your gloves to present your palms to her, and she leans forward to look properly. The skin still has a slight irregular shine from the fresh scars, but only if you know what to look for.

“Looking good,” she says, leaning back into her seat.

“Do you wanna get some food?” you blurt.

She raises an eyebrow, and then laughs in pleasant surprise. “Sure.”

You’re closer to Peter than you are to Jess, but it’s still nice to spend time with her outside of meetings and anomaly wrangling. She’s telling the story of when she first met Gwen.

“I can’t believe she called him ‘Dark Garfield,’” you laugh. “How have I not heard about this before?”

Jess laughs and shakes her head, adjusting her grip on her burger. “I’m as surprised as you are. I guess Gwen tries not to brag, or something.”

You nod. “She’s a great kid.” You sigh. “I worry about her sometimes, honestly. I can’t imagine being Spider-Woman, or man, or any of it, so young.”

Jess sombers. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Miguel wonders how all the Peters do this, how they’ve all adjusted to being surrounded by alternate versions of themselves when it felt so strange for him just to be face to face with one of his own. It’s not that he didn’t know, not that he wasn’t aware of the other versions of himself in the multiverse.

He just didn’t expect to actually come face to face with one of his variants like this. One that was living. One that was also Spider-Man.

Miguel-209 had just left the lab with Peter following the latter's offer of a tour, leaving him alone in his lab with Lyla. He stands, hands braced against the console, head hanging low from his shoulders.

He pretends his chest doesn't feel tight.

“Do you think any other Miguels also-?”

“Lyla, please,” he cuts her off.

For once, she listens, falling silent.

Miguel takes a deep breath, pushing himself up on the exhale. “Did you add it to his file?”

“I did.”

Miguel nods. “Lock it.”

He doesn’t look at Lyla when she crosses her arms, creasing her brows under the pink glasses.

“It’s locked.”

He nods again, turning away further. One arm crosses over his chest, and much like when he paced the corner of the medical room a week ago, his elbow rests on his crossed arm and his fingers rest on his lips.

“They’re going to find out.”

“I know,” he says. “I know. And they should. But only from him. And I don’t need anyone else…” he trails off, unsure how the sentence ends. “It’s clearly private. For him,” he adds on at the end, gesturing his hand and resting his fingers back on his lips.

“And you trust Jess and Peter not to say anything?”

“Run daily reports,” Miguel says, changing the subject, lowering his arms to perch on his hips.

“You got it, boss.”

It had taken some very light convincing on his part (a portal) to get you to believe his story, and only slightly more after that (basic info on the multiverse and what he was aiming to do) to get you to join the Spider-Society.

Parker had been one of the first to welcome you, eventually dubbing you Garden-Spider when he visited your dimension and saw the greenery of your city, and more specifically, your apartment.

Then you hugged Miguel in his lab.

You still get embarrassed when you remember how the rest started. Another panic attack. More tears. You’d found that person’s shirt in your storage closet, and with nobody to call in your dimension who knew about both your lives, your first thought was him.

So you called. Not to ask for anything really, you’re not even sure why you did it. You suppose, if you think about it, your brain picked him as the most recent example of comfort and sympathy you’d experienced—though in the first month while getting to know him, those wouldn’t have been the words you would pick to describe Miguel O’Hara, even if they were now.

So, in a desperate grab for a lifeline, part of you had reached out before your conscious mind could stop the taps of your fingers.

“Is everything alright?” He asked when he answered, a holo-bust of his suit popping out of your watch.

“I—“ you gasped, trying to speak through your choked lungs. “I—“

“I’ll be right there.”

Not even fifteen seconds later a portal opened in your bedroom and Miguel stepped through. He crouched before you. “Are you injured?”

You shook your head, buried your face into your hands. “Sh-shit, n-no,” you managed to get out, and tried not to look at his thighs and the shape they made where they sat right in your line of sight. “I—Sorry—“

He didn’t say anything more, just moved closer and offered a hand as his mask receded. You nodded, and he rested it on your shoulder, eventually pulling you into a somewhat stiff hug, like he was trying to remember how they worked. Eventually he let go, once your breaths and tears had calmed.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Water,” you’d whispered, beyond mortified now that you had calmed down. “I can-“

But he was already up, leaving your room to find a cup for you. It took a minute, while he figured out your kitchen cabinets, but he returned with what you'd asked for.

“Peter’s right,” he said when he passed the cup into your hands. “You have a lot of plants.”

You laughed, then turned quiet, shy. “Thank you, Miguel. If… if you ever need…”

He nodded. “I appreciate that.”

It surprised both of you that it wasn't long before he called to cash in on your offer.

“Are you… Do you mind returning the favor again?” He asked through your watches, quoting you indirectly.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you’d replied after a millisecond of surprise. “I can be there in–”

“No. I mean–” he huffed a sigh. “Is it alright if I come there?”

Another second of surprise. “Oh, of course,” you repeated.

“Thank you.”

That happened a few more times, the two of you ‘exchanging favors’ of comfort and rest between regular days around Spider-HQ and missions across the multiverse.

Until one mutually grueling day came around and the exhaustion was too much for even your super-powered bodies, and Miguel had helped you home from a mission.

“Shock, I just–”

“Yeah. I need to fucking lay down,” you’d laughed tiredly, and eased yourself down onto your bed. You didn't even take your suit off; still smeared with soot and grime and a little bit of someone else’s blood.

He chuckled at that, running a hand over his hair. “Yeah.”

By then you had gotten halfway decent at keeping your eyes to yourself, glancing away from the muscles of his arm and the way they moved.

“Come on,” you sighed. You patted the space on the bed next to you, exhausted and already melted into your bed. “You look like you need it too.”

Even with your eyes closed you felt him hesitate. But you left it alone and folded your hands over your stomach, one ankle over the other, letting him decide for himself what he wanted to do.

The soft sound of your floor creaking let you know he was walking around to the other side of your bed. The gentle dip of the mattress let you know when he was sitting, and then the weight next to you accompanied by the sound of fabric told you that he had laid down by your side.

His quiet sigh when he had gotten comfortable told you that he had, in fact, needed it too.

That was the best night’s sleep you’d had in months.

It was for him too.

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #atsv x reader #x reader

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assorted-candy · 6 months

Text

20 Q's for Fic Writers

I got tagged by @dp-marvel94! Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

I've just posted my 22nd work a few days ago!

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

37,763

3. What fandoms do you write for?

So far, all my published fics are for Danny Phantom. It's a fandom that's near and dear to my heart and my favorite to write for. I've written fanfiction for myself in a lot of different fandoms over the years. Miraculous Ladybug, Mega Man (Star Force, Battle Network) and Fire Emblem are a few. (Will these ever see the light of day? Probs not, lol)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 5. Frayed Ends - 37 kudos - Jazz and Maddie are fighting more often. Jack wants to reach out and help his family. 4. The Same Blood - 45 kudos - Maddie and Jack try to help a sick girl that collapsed in front of their house. They don't know what to make of her condition. Danny wants to help.

3. Returned Home - 49 kudos - Maddie finds Danny at home after he disappeared ten months ago.

2. The Broken Pieces Left Behind - 66 kudos (tie) - Maddie knew what the portal did to Danny. If she could create something that essentially turned him into a ghost, she could figure out a way to fix all of it. Even if she hasn't made any progress in the past two months, she'll keep trying. She didn't account for what Danny wanted. 1 . What's Out of Out Control - 66 kudos (tie) - Danny thought he had it under control. He thought he could finally hang out like they used to always do. Tucker could feel the rift between them widening. It wasn't getting smaller anytime soon.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! There were a few comments from my two earlier fics that I never responded to and it's already been so long and I feel like I ended up putting it off too long to say anything now 😓But I'm so so thankful for all the comments I receive! I never thought anyone would read my work, let alone comment on it. I'm always between two modes of 'author commentary' and 'screaming thank you and running away'.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Lol, I love my angsty stuff and there are so many different flavors of angst, so it's hard to pick just one. I'd say the piece I aimed to write for Angst Fest, The Broken Pieces Left Behind, might be it. It ends on a rather hopeless note for the Fenton family that even I don't know how to make everything better for them

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Home for a Cat. It was for a Ectoberhaunt prompt that I was absolutely stumped on. So I decided someone was going to adopt a cat by the end of the fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Ahh, so I actually posted a fic on FFN wayyy back when I was in high school. I remember it being received pretty well but I got a really rude comment on a simple spelling mistake. Back then, I was just told I had dyslexia a few years prior and I had some really bad self-esteem issues tied in with that. So, yeah, that comment basically made me terrified to ever show my work to anyone ever.

It's been over ten years since then and I wanted to actually get over that fear. I impulsively decided to do Angst Fest with the mindset that no one would even look at what I posted. Not only did people look, everyone has been so kind!!!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

lkdajldkf, nope. I get flustered trying to write basic romance and having two characters hold hands, lmao. Major props to those that can, it's definitely a skill that takes time to master just like any other genre.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Also haven't had this either.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, but it seems like a lot of fun.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Back when the show was airing, Amethyst Ocean (Danny/Sam) was my go to. I'm a sucker for friends to lovers tropes and it's really nostalgic for me. But, I don't really read a lot of shippy things for Danny Phantom, so ships don't make or break a fic for me.

If I'm looking to read romance, the whole Love Square (MariChat my beloved) with Miraculous Ladybug will always be great. Even if I jumped ship on the show around season 2 or 3 and I have no clue what they're doing now, lol.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I honestly have so many WIPs that are unfinished on my computer from over the years. Maybe a super old one that I titled 'Phantoms in the Daylight'. Angst once more with Character Death as the main pain point. I like the beginning but oh boy, does it get sloppy and confusing real quick. I'd need serious outlining energy put into it if I'd ever want to salvage it and I just don't have it in me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue! Give me two blorbos and I'll make them talk forever.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Scenery and description. I love the dialogue portion so much that I end up running into the floating heads in an empty room problem in the first drafts of my fics. My first round of edits are dedicated to making sure I have a scene and grounding characters into it. And then I have to go back later to make it not feel so robotic sounding.

(Also a weakness but more as in fic than writing. Summaries and Titles. I stare at my drafts on AO3's editor for at least half an hour trying to pull something together, lol)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I can probably talk about this for hours, lol. I absolutely love foreign languages, especially when it comes to linguistics. So, I'll try to be brief, lmao. Short answer: depends on the fic but normally no. I already spend so much time fussing over the word choice/slang/formality/dialect characters use in my native language. I don't have a good enough grasp on another language for it to sound natural to the reader. ("They would not fucking say that" is my internal monologue during dialogue edits, lol)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It's a toss up between Pokemon and Danny Phantom. I first learned about fanfiction from a friend who showed me FFN for the Pokemon fics. I looked around the site and found all of the Danny Phantom fics soon after and got hooked on those. I started writing around then and it would have been for one of those two.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Hard to chose one! Writing technicality wise, I'm proud of how What Remains on the Table turned out. I consider description my weak point, so the original draft was 0 dialogue with very stiff descriptions. I was able to edit it to really practice my environmental storytelling. (Although, please mind the tags if you click the link as it does deal with the dissection topic)

I'm not sure who's been tagged and I'm not sure who writes fanfic, so @lavendarlily, @fangirlwriting-stories, @grub-xd, @nanaarchy and anyone else that wants to join!

#tag game #danny phantom #fanfic authors #candy-posts

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autistichalsin · 2 months

Note

Hello!! :D

Just popping in to say ILYSM (in that strange, mutuals on the internet sorta way) and that you have lots of fans who love your Halsin-posting. Your post notifications always brighten my day. ❤️

Idk why in the world you’ve got people investing their finite existence on this good Earth giving you grief. Some of your stuff might not be everyone’s cup of tea (pleasing everyone is an impossibility, after all), but it doesn’t even come close to the kinds of things my favourite hardcore/“problematic” (<= self-described, including the quotations, lmao!) Halsin/bg3 writers and artists post. And I don’t see anyone clutching their pearls in their comment sections.

Like, when I click on the profile of one of my favourite writers (which includes you! 🥰 But not this example, I love all your stuff!) and see that they’ve posted a story with a description like: “hardcore kinky stuff that you’re not into, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat”, I simply keep scrolling and maybe pick one of the hundreds to thousands of other bg3 stories I could choose from. But maybe that’s just me. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Ao3 has tag filtering, you guys, it’s amazing. Remember the fucking Dark Ages when Ao3 didn’t have that at all? How tf did we ever live like that? That’s the kind of shit you say Thanks for at family Thanksgiving. And don’t tell you guys haven’t figured out at least one of the dozens of ways to filter stuff out on godsdamn Tumblr of all places; we’ve been tweaking the etiquette of that for years!)

How utterly irrational it is for these people to look at such an openly Queer and Kinky video game — the likes of which I’ve never seen in the mainstream before (He-llo strategically advantageous BDSM scene! 🤤) — and decide that they’re going to go around policing how people iterate upon those pre-established themes. How did this fandom attract puritans of all people? [Insert “The Myth of ‘Consensual’ Sex” meme here.]

Any-hoosies, all this to say that your haters are a weird, vocal minority that are letting you live rent free in their heads, instead of doing something meaningful or joyful with their pathetic, puritanical existences. There are way more people who love the kind of meta and fics that you post.

Have a good day!! XOXO 🥰😘💋💖💛🫶🤙

Hello! Thank you so much- that means a lot to me. It's weird to think of myself having "fans" lol! Like you're not the first person to use that word but it's just. Such a weird (in a good way) concept for me???? Like!?!?!? But I'm so glad to hear you love my posts <3

Yeah, pleasing everyone is impossible, and it's weird that of all things, my extremely mild CNC kink fic has become the antis' boogeyman. Fam there is literal necrophilia kink in this fandom! (Not saying they deserve to be harassed either, of course, no one should be!) But the fic that has become the pinnacle of what's problematic in this fandom is a survivor writing about a fictional survivor using kink to reclaim their sexuality? Like. OK Jan

See, but that's the difference, you're a grown adult who takes responsibility for curating your experience, whereas others.... either don't, or they don't read it but act like the fic EXISTING is a problem. I guess some people are in for a rude awakening when they discover who the Marquis de Sade is......

God, remember BEFORE AO3? Remember FFN when half the time, the PAIRING wasn't even properly tagged bc you could only tag two characters at all, so people would by default just tag the most popular characters to appear in the story? And instead of tags, you had genres, so you had to decide if you wanted romance/hurt/comfort or friendship/tragedy or what? (I'm a certified Fandom Old- on my old account I was in the first 10,000 users on AO3).

Yeah, people really are missing the point of this game- and it's no coincidence most of these folks are younger. (And a lot are exclus too; I've seen them get angry at the BG3 characters being canonically pan, saying that "pansexuality is a made-up Tumblr sexuality). So... totally blind to the interwoven history of queerness and kink. Not surprising.

Thank you so much for this kind message, anon, you cheered me up a lot. <3 I hope you have a great day!

#discourse

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morningberriesao3 · 5 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

tysm to @runninriot for the tag. tbh i often don’t do these things ‘cause I never have anyone else to tag to keep the chain going, but this one is too fun not to 💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

currently—13. 10 are completed, 2 are old wips, 1 is my current wip. baker’s dozen.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

431, 629 and counting 😳

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stranger things, exclusively. no other fandom inspires me the same way.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Many Ways, Many Days, to Say ‘I Love You’

Dirty Words

Done Deal

Sneaky Link

Sweet Surrender

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

YES. omg i will always respond to a comment because they make me wildly happy. although sometimes (currently), i feel too overwhelmed to reply right away and i end up with an overflowing inbox. right now i have 200 unanswered comments that i WILL reply to 😂

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

as far as finished fics, Hate the Way It Feels So Good has, i guess, the most unsatisfying ending. generally i always write HEA. although i have a wip that was never supposed to end happily: Wicked, to Let Me Dream of You.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i’d say Sweet Surrender is the happiest considering all the angst you have to read to get there 😂 but like i said, most have a happy ending

8. Do you get hate on fics?

generally, no. but i have gotten more hate than anyone i’ve talked to about it! (certain word choices ‘ruining’ an entire fic for someone, grammar corrections, people telling me i’m a liar when i didn’t upload fast enough… all mostly surface stuff that hasn’t been too bad yet 😩)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

the real question is: have i ever not written smut? and the answer to that is no. what kind? every kind. tame, not-so-tame, porn with plot, porn with feelings, gross stuff, cute stuff, you name it 😉

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not really. the closest i’ve been to writing a crossover is How I’d Kill, in which the first few chaps are pretty inspired by ACOTAR.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not copy and pasted, as far as i know. there have been a few instances where i’ve noticed bigger accounts posting eerily similar plot lines to some of the stuff i’ve written, but i’m 100% sure it’s just coincidence. we have to remember nothing is outright original when it comes to plot. as long as you’re not intentionally plagiarizing someone’s work, similarities are bound to happen.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no!! i’ve never had a translation, a pod fic, or artwork done for any of my fics! i’m just out here in my own little bubble lmao

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i haven’t! although i’ve definitely talked about it with @the-unforgivenn!! i get nervous because i’m such a procrastinator when it comes to getting my own fics done—i don’t want to drag someone else down 😂

14. What’s you’re all time favourite ship?

take a wild guess.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i honestly hope/plan to finish ALL of my posted wips, even though a couple are on pause. there’s a few saved on my laptop that I’m sure will never see the light of day hahaha

16. What are your writing strengths?

i’m blind to my own writing so it’s hard to say. i’d like to think just general improvement as i’ve written more/read more. a lot of repeat readers have complimented me on how i write angst so maybe that?!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i could write an essay on this. first—no matter how many times i read through my fics—there’s some autocorrect that i missed or a spelling error or just SOMETHING 😂 not to mention the procrastinating. always getting major writer’s block. and generally being very hard on myself.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i MIGHT be able to get away with a few french phrases here and there, being half french, but in general i only know english well enough to write. reading? LOVE it. make all the characters multilingual—i’ll have google translate ready.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

stranger things 🥹 and most likely will be the only fandom i ever write for. (unless you count the RPF i wrote and will NEVER publish about joseph quinn 💀)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

i personally think my best written fic is How I’d Kill, but Sweet Surrender will always be my favourite just by default—there was no better feeling as a first time writer reading the lovely comments that i got on that fic. i’ll never forget it 🥹

no pressure tags:

@numinosmoon @cuips-not-cute @bettyfrommars @the-unforgivenn @rip-quizilla @etherealmontilyet @wroteclassicaly @wynnyfryd

sorry if you’ve already been tagged or just plain old don’t want to do it 💕

#steddie #stranger things #fanfiction writer #fanfiction

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polar-equinoxx · 1 year

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A fic masterlist! Finally!

And here is my ao3 account :D

Take your pick, all of these are sfw, full of fluff or angst and definitely hurt/comfort; and are rated either gen or teen^^

More detailed summaries added underneath each one and oh my god this post is so long

featuring the main two of all of these bc why the hell not

Oh and the series on ao3 is linked in the headings of each sector :)

I will be updating this whenever I write more fics, so keep watch XD

☁️The heavens told me that clouds have been grey

all of my icemav fics! So guaranteed smooches <3 none of them link to each other unless they are in a seperate series ^^

find the masterlist here! yes I made a seperate post its because there are so many of them quq

🌟Canons shoot ships but not this one

all of my fics that could fit into the canon timeline, (featuring an occasional icemav smooch cus lets be for real they did probably kiss at least once)

find the masterlist here! yes I made a seperate post for this too lmao

Long-fics (5k or above)

🍁Hot Summer Nights to Cold Winter Days (18k words, 10 chapters split between two works)

Rated Teen, with fluff and a genourous amount of angst and hurt/comfort

When Goose and his pilot were allowed to go to Top Gun, then Ice couldn’t think of anything better. Only until he’d seen Maverick and fallen head over heels in love with him. That July Saturday had changed everything, Goose had gone, and Maverick had fallen into a deep dark pit, and Ice, wanting to look out for Maverick, had dived straight in after him, unwilling to let his wingman get stuck there. Ice promised Maverick he’d go to the ends of the earth with him, and that is what he would do, even if it meant they’d both hurt.

❄️Returning to You (25k words, 15 chapters)

❄️ Letters : Epilogue (1.5k words)

Rated Teen, a lot of angst. Seriously. But a lot of hurt comfort to make up for it :,) Oh yeah, the amnesia is the cause of the angst..

In the months after Goose’s death, Maverick has been forging a deep friendship with Iceman. So deep, in fact it feels like nothing could come between them, even though he hasn’t been entirely honest about exactly how he is feeling. It’s hard to do, but it only seems to get harder when a scouting mission takes a turn for the worse.

🌷Galloping into the Cold (5k+ words, completely a wip, 3 chapters right now)

Rated Teen, angst, fluff hurt-comfort, medieval au, they ride horses.

Thomas Kazansky, nicknamed Ice for the personality that isn’t even his; feels like he’s stuck in his pampered posh life. That’s until he falls off his horse and meets Peter Mitchell and realises he might have a chance to be something other than his surname.

🌙 when the human strokes your skin, that is when you let them in (29k words, 14 chapters)

Rated Teen, angst hurt/comfort and secretive mutual pining with miscommunication sprinkled on top

Top Gun. Top Gun! Maverick had only gone and actually done it, and it would be the best five weeks of his life, for sure. If only there wasn’t a distraction with the name of Iceman. Anyway, he was so relieved that he was going to do it and win that trophy with Goose. But many things don’t go to plan.

🌹Roses (5k words, a 4+1)

Rated Teen, angst, unrequited love, a lot of valentines days, pining and eventual fluff

Nobody in Iceman’s life has meant more to him than Pete Mitchell does. He’s dangerous and annoying but incredibly cute, and Ice thinks if he looks at him one more time with that smile of his, his legs are going to give out under him. Try as he might, he can’t say anything to address the crush he has on him. // Or, the four times Ice wants to admit to Maverick that he loves him and the one time he does.

🧊Not Enough (11k words, a 5+1)

Rated teen, angst, self doubt, abusive parents, mutual pining and eventual fluff

Iceman has been told one way or another and all through his life that he's not good enough, for whatever that may be. He dreads turning out even the slightest bit like his father, and he'll do everything in his power to stop himself from becoming like him. / Or, five ways people say to Ice that he's not enough and the one time he says it.

🐎Heaven In Your Eyes (WIP, 2 chapters at 3k)

They r cowboys, no-one dies, (!?!), they ride horses, with pining, fluff and friends to lovers

Thomas Kazansky is the notorious peace-maker of the new place in Colorado the people call Durango. Pete Mitchell was supposed to be passing it on his way to California, but the small town seemed nice enough to stay for while. For some reason, their paths keep crossing, but Pete, as rebellious as he is, doesn't mind. / Or, a western icemav fic that takes place in 1886

❤️‍🩹Goose lives AU (Goose lives and there's no such thing as DADT)

❤️‍🩹Seasick (1632 words)

Rated Teen, sickfic, hurt/comfort A mission is flown, the mission is successful, but a certain Pete Maverick Mitchell is seasick. Badly.

❤️‍🩹Saved by Sickness (2037 words)

Rated Teen, sickfic, hurt/comfort, this is how Goose lives lol The thing about Iceman is that he never gets sick. Or at least he thought he didn’t. Most of the time it was just a cold. Most of the time he jut felt a little bit more tired for a couple of days, then he was back to normal. This was not one of those times, as he's about to find out.

❤️‍🩹Spur of the Moment (3788 words)

Rated Teen, with fluff, pining, Goose and Slider embarrassing both Ice and Mav, and no DADT cus who am I to do that??? Maverick is about to fall asleep standing. He's so tired that the last thing he's going to be thinking about is what comes out of his mouth. Especially if it's 'baby'. Especially if it's to his wingman. Or, Maverick calls Ice 'baby' for the first time.

🕊Angelus AU (The icemav boys are angels, but that isn't normal)

🕊Growing Pains (1494 words)

Rated Teen, patching up injuries, angst, post-argument, hurt/comfort He doesn’t know how he gets to his bathroom, but once he reaches a point that lets him lift his head up to try and see his back in the mirror, he’s immediately chucked into a pit of horror and disbelief. “Oh god-” His wings were growing. God dammit of course they had to choose tonight to start.

🕊Cold Wings (2137)

Rated Teen, patching up injuries, fluff, hurt/comfort

The good news? Ice was there. / The bad news? There was blood all over his back and he was about to collapse over the sink. / “Oh jesus christ-” Maverick says as he shuts the door behind him and goes straight over to him, dropping the towel on the floor. || Or, Ice's wings decide to appear at a very awkward time.

🌠Shooting Stars (A small series where the icemav both stargazed as kids and Maverick dated Charlie beforehand)

🌠Starboard Half Light (3104 words)

Rated Gen, with pining, and hurt/comfort

It had been such a tiring day, and so emotionally charged too, so why was Maverick still wide awake? It seemed like the only option he had left was to go see Iceman, his newly titled wingman. Hopefully he was awake. Maverick just wanted to talk to someone. Or, Maverick and Iceman talk on the starboard side of the USS Enterprise for the entire night

🌠Shooting Stars (1886 words)

Rated Teen, a lot of kissing and pining. So much kissing seriously.

Maverick has always loved stargazing, ever since he was a kid. He has also had a crush on Iceman ever since he laid eyes on him. So what better to do than go stargazing with him, right?

🌠Afterglow (1635 words)

Rated Teen, hurt/comfort obviously with mentions of guilt tripping and Mav's past relationship with Charlie

“I- I promised…” “Hey, hey… you don’t have to be s-” “Yes I do,” Maverick interrupts him. “I promised her I wouldn’t because she’d- she…” She? “Who, Mav?” Or, Maverick wakes up in the middle of the night and tries to hide the nightmare he's just had from Ice, because he knows what will happen if he tells him.

#ms tg #ms fanfics #if you're reading this then beware the long post!!!#but if you're reading this then how was the long post?#and here are the tags for all of these!#ms hsntcwd #ms rty #ms gitc #ms wthsystiwylti #ms hiye #ms angelus au #ao3 #masterlist #fic masterlist #top gun fanfiction #fanfic

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cryptids · 11 months

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I think it's been about like 3-4 years now since I resolved to try and leave a comment on every fic I enjoy enough to read all the way through to the end, and I do pretty much all of them (the few exceptions are always when I'm reading before bed and accidentally fall asleep then forget to do it lmao) So uhhh.... for no particular reason, here are some things I've learned over time? This is just me personally though so ymmv of course.

It becomes a lot easier to think of what to say after you've been doing it for a while. At first I used to really struggle with what to write and putting stuff into words?? But is easy for me now.

The commenting itself also becomes a habit after some time and stops feeling like something that takes significant extra effort. It's just second nature now and really does feel easier.

I only get a response from the authors on maybe like.... 1/5th?? Of the comments I leave. It can be disheartening at first (especially when it's a really long or heartfelt comment that took you ages to write) bc it feels like the writer isn't seeing it and you're just posting into the void lmao. My only advice is just to try not to let it discourage you... I know a lot of writers don't reply bc they're shy or aren't sure what to say, or they intend to and forget, or they just haven't checked that account in years. Tbh I just figured there's no way to know if my comment will be seen, but it's worth leaving them anyway bc the times they are appreciated always makes up for it like tenfold.

If you can't think of much to say or don't have the energy, simple stuff like "I loved this" or even just some heart emojis still seem to be appreciated in my experience.

Please don't feel too embarassed to leave comments on super old fics!! I've commented on some fics from 10+ years ago, and gotten delighted responses from their authors who were super happy to know people still enjoyed them.

Please don't feel embarassed to be the first commenter on a fic either. This could just be bc I'm always in rarepair hell but I can't even tell you how many fics I'm the singular comment under, even ones that have a lot of kudos and bookmarks. I promise its not weird to be the only person in a comment section, and yours might encourage others.

Making an account makes things quicker and easier than having to put your info in for anon comments each time. I have an empty ao3 account I use only for commenting and bookmarking, I recommend that for anyone else like me who is not a writer themselves.

I'm not bothering with "don't comment rude or entitled things" type of points or "how to write/structure a comment" bc there's already a lot of posts like that from fic writers, this is just some things from the pov of a regular commenter that I learned through my experience.

I think my final thing worth saying is that if you have any anxiety issues with feeling self conscious like I do, you might worry a lot that you're "being annoying" by leaving comments (especially if you end up leaving multiple by commenting on different chapters). But I've expressed this worry to a number of writers over the years and all of them have told me that its actually the opposite to annoying and they love it. So please let their words reassure you as well gsjshdjs

#🐊#long rambling post nobody asked for lmao #but if anyone else is wanting to start commenting more often maybe some of this will be helpful;;;

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hairstevington · 1 year

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i can't tune you out (part 3)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Eddie and Chrissy become friends. Robin and Chrissy bond. Eddie and Steve strike a deal.

(part 1, part 2)

Word Count: 4.8K (it's a long one!)

Warnings: Rockstar!Eddie/Musician!Steve, modern day AU, enemies to lovers STILL very much enemies sorry I love a slow burn, Chrissy x Comphet, allusions to Chrissy having body issues, Hellcheer being wholesome, angst upon angst baybeeee, this chapter is very fun just bear with the boys absolutely despising each other lmao

A/N: Hello friends! From here on out, this fic will only be posted to my Ao3. If you're digging the story so far, go ahead and follow along here! To those that don't have accounts, I might be able to finesse some sort of system where I let you guys know when I've updated. Also, for those in need of Soft Steddie (tm), more "Flowers and Ink" is coming soon! Love y'all <3

Eddie got to the bar before Chrissy did, but he kind of preferred it that way. It gave him a chance to sit down, order a drink, and settle into the environment before being thrust into more chaos.

Sometimes, even though he thrived in insanity, he needed a moment to breathe. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud, of course.

“Hey, stranger!” Chrissy’s voice rang from behind him. He spun around and was surprised when she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He’d thought that she’d been extra sweet and friendly the night before because of the alcohol, but apparently that was just her vibe. It was actually really nice.

“H-hi, Chrissy,” Eddie replied, hugging her back. She pulled away after one last squeeze, then plopped herself beside him. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” she answered. “I was up all night, so I slept most of the day. Now, I’ll probably be up all night again. Such is life.”

“Been there,” Eddie replied, taking a sip of his drink.

“Can I get a vodka soda and two shots of tequila, please?” Chrissy asked the bartender.

“Tequila?” Eddie asked, attempting to hide the disgust on his face. He hadn’t touched the stuff in years, after one fateful night involving a playground. Helpful tip - being drunk on a swing set is not the move.

“Tequila,” Chrissy confirmed with a smirk. “I’m invested now, and considering this is our first of potentially many drinks together, I figured we should start off with a bang.”

Eddie stared at her, blankly. She wanted to see him again after this? But he hadn’t even really done anything!

“Why are you so invested in this?” Eddie asked.

“I dunno,” Chrissy replied with a shrug. The bartender put the vodka soda down in front of her, and she started mixing it around with the thin plastic straw. “I guess I’m just kinda…bored?”

“Bored?” Eddie repeated. “How could you be bored when you’re doing all the shit you do? Going to parties and photoshoots and - I mean, you barely know me.”

“My life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” she responded. There was a flicker of sadness in her eyes, but it left as quickly as it had come. Chrissy sipped her drink, then thanked the bartender as she set the shots down. “Come on, let’s commemorate this!”

She took out her phone and gestured for Eddie to hold his drink up so they could take a picture. He was blown away by the whole thing, honestly. He almost texted Carla just to be like - can you believe this shit?

It all seemed too easy. She was too open to being his friend, and he didn’t know why. He’d worked hard and all that, but he didn’t feel like he was decent enough of a person to get any sort of karmic reward. So this all felt a little suspicious, but he tried to enjoy it anyway.

They did the shot. At least Chrissy had sprung for the high-quality liquor. It was still kinda nasty.

“How was the rest of the party?” he asked.

“Good,” Chrissy responded with a tight-lipped smile. She didn’t add any details, which was odd, but she spoke again before Eddie could ask any follow-up questions. “So, what’s the deal with you? People say you’re dating Steve, but you didn’t even know what he looked like last night, soooo…”

Alright, here we go.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie began. “I’m not dating him, clearly.” No sense in lying to Chrissy when she already knew.

“But you want to?” Chrissy asked. Eddie shrugged. He would have flat out told her the truth, but he was hesitant to give everything away immediately. Steve was the one with the power, and Eddie hated that. “Do I need to order us another shot?”

“Please, no,” Eddie shot back instantly. When Chrissy laughed, he realized she’d been joking. “Sorry, it’s just -”

“It’s okay,” Chrissy assured him. “Talking to people in this business is hard. You never know who you can trust. I used to be a lot more open, and then you kinda just learn that you…can’t be, most of the time.”

Eddie furrowed his brow, wondering what exactly Chrissy felt she couldn’t tell people. Even moreso, he wanted to know who had broken her trust in the past. Then, he felt a pang of guilt, since he’d been mostly excited about this drink because it would boost his fame. Everything about all of this was corrupt and morally ambiguous. He sighed.

“I’m just trying to make it out there,” Eddie admitted. “And I - I mean, I don’t know what to do, or how anything works.”

“Yeah, I remember what that’s like,” she empathized. She took a sip of her vodka soda, then turned back to Eddie. “Do you ever feel like -? I mean, do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?”

“Uhhh, just on a daily basis,” Eddie replied. He and Chrissy smiled at each other, and he could feel her authenticity. Maybe it was stupid for him to open up to her, but he was going to do it anyway. “Chrissy, have you ever, uh - like, have you ever done one of those PR relationships?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replied, unfazed. “I can’t really say anything, but yeah. It happens a lot around here.” Eddie nodded, then sipped his drink. “Wait, are you trying to do that with me?”

“Not quite,” Eddie mumbled, his lips pressed to his glass.

“I thought you were gay,” she continued.

“I am.”

“Oh, okay.” She thought about it for a moment, then her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” she repeated. “Ohhhh!”

“Got any other letters?” Eddie teased. Chrissy giggled, then shoved him playfully.

“You’re funny,” she said. Eddie wasn’t used to people enjoying his often wicked sense of humor. This was refreshing. “So, who’s idea was it?”

“My manager, I guess,” Eddie answered. “Well, she told me to use what the fans were saying and to meet up with the guy. But it, uh - it didn’t go well.”

“No?” she asked, surprised. “What happened?”

Eddie wanted to keep talking to Chrissy. He didn’t care that she was famous anymore - he wanted her perspective as someone who’d been through it. He also knew that Chrissy could tear him down just as quickly as she could build him up.

“Did you mean what you said about us getting drinks more often?” he asked.

“Yeah!” she replied, smiling brightly. “Like I said, you’re funny. And I - hmm. Okay, um. This next part might sound really bad at first, but I can explain.”

“Okay…” Eddie said, feeling his walls come back up.

“I don’t really have a lot of male friends,” Chrissy admitted. “It always feels like - like they’re just waiting for their chance to strike.”

“Like, try to sleep with you?” Eddie asked. Chrissy nodded. “Oh. Christ, that sucks.”

“Yeah,” she replied with a half shrug.

He skipped the part where he doubted whether or not what she was saying was true, because it was clearly affecting her whether it was true or not. Eddie also had an urge to diffuse the tension with a joke, because that was kind of his thing.

“Chrissy Cunningham,” he stated, “- are you trying to make me your gay best friend?” She bit her lip, fighting a guilty smile. “Cuz like, I’m down, but I’ve never really done this before so I don’t know what the role entails.” She stopped fighting the smile, so Eddie continued. “I mean, is there a rulebook out there? I think there’s a movie about this on Netflix. Should I watch that first?”

“Eddie!” She interrupted, fully laughing now. Eddie joined her, feeling accomplished that he’d lightened the mood and set her at ease again. “I’m in the modeling industry, I’m surrounded by gay men all the time. It’s not just about that, I promise.”

“Okay, then what is it?” Eddie wondered. She sighed, her body much more relaxed than it had been before.

“It’s just that everybody I’m around talks about their looks all the time. I mean, it’s our job to be beautiful, I know that, but it’s tiring to just constantly hear about new diets and calories and what I should and should not eat. It’s just - it’s nice to get away from that, sometimes. You’re nothing like them, and I like that.”

“Nothing like them, huh?” Eddie smirked. “Are you saying I’m not beautiful?” She laughed and shook her head.

“Okay fine, you have one thing in common,” she teased back. “You’re not mad?”

“Nah,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “But while we’re coming clean, I definitely was excited to come here because I hoped I’d get more followers if we hung out.”

“Well, obviously,” Chrissy responded, flipping her hair. “Okay, so that’s out of the way. Can we stick together, then?”

She asked it so sweetly it made his heart ache.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he replied. He thought back to what Chrissy had said earlier about her model friends and decided to commit to being the opposite. “So, uh, I dunno about you but I could really go for some fries right now.”

Chrissy’s eyes widened.

“I’d kill for some fries right now.”

“Great,” he said, grinning. “Who are we killing?” They laughed together, and then he got the bartender’s attention so he could order.

“For the record, I’m not doing this for you.”

It took Robin less than two seconds to agree to going to the bar with Steve. Now, they were walking down the street so that they could spy on two people they barely knew but were somehow entangled with.

“I know, I know,” Steve replied.

The bar was in sight. Chrissy hadn’t tagged the location or anything, but he recognized the place because he went there often. So often that it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to show up with Robin. They’d done it before and they’d do it again.

The plan was for them to discreetly sit at a table in the back. But then they were at the door, and then they were opening the door, and then they were immediately being stared down by a blonde and a brunette at the bar.

Shit.

“Steve, what do we do?” Robin muttered rapidly.

“Uhhh,” he said, glancing over at the table he imagined they’d sit at. He thought about ignoring them and just sitting down, but they’d all already seen each other so that would have just been rude. “I think we just have to own it.”

“Own what? That we’re psychopaths?” Robin hissed.

And then, Chrissy was waving them both over to join them.

“Just follow my lead,” Steve said.

In hindsight, this plan had been really, really stupid.

Steve knew that his cover for all this was to get Robin and Chrissy in the same room again. But truthfully, Steve didn’t know Chrissy’s deal or if she wanted anything other than friendship. Steve could say this had nothing to do with Eddie all he wanted, but that wasn’t true.

He’d been wracking his brain all day to make sense of this. His fight with Eddie the night prior had been a little fuzzy, but one part of it really stuck with him.

Just a few years of King Steve bullying the school freak.

Well, that comment plus Eddie saying that Steve’s music sucked. That stung, but he wasn’t expecting someone like Eddie to appreciate his music anyway. The truth was, Steve had left high school behind, and he’d moved on, and he’d forgotten the shit he’d done back then. All that bystander crap, the teasing, the little comments that Steve didn’t understand the impact of at the time.

Steve didn’t like Eddie. He still thought Eddie was a dick. But that didn’t mean Steve hadn’t also been a dick back then.

All of this was very complicated, and the residual headache from the hangover made his head spin. Actually, the dizziness was probably also from the hangover. The thought of drinking made him want to hurl. Good thing he was at a bar, right?

“Hey!” Chrissy said as they approached. “What are you guys doing here?!” She jumped up to hug Steve, then Robin, and Steve watched as his friend acted as if the physical contact with her crush didn’t affect her.

“We, uh -” Steve began. “We come here a lot, actually. Well, I do. I live just down the road.”

His gaze drifted to Eddie, who gave Steve a knowing smirk.

“Oh my god, Robin, I’m actually so glad you’re here,” Chrissy said. “Your style is just - I mean, wow! Where do you get your clothes?”

Robin’s eyes landed on Steve’s for a nanosecond, but it was enough for him to know exactly what was going through her brain. Basically just the embodiment of a bunch of exclamation points.

“I - I usually thrift them, actually!” Robin responded.

Then, Chrissy continued asking where Robin thrifted, and whether she could come with sometime, and Steve figured they’d be at it for a while.

Huh. Maybe there would be something there after all.

Of course, while they were talking, this left Steve to either stand there awkwardly or interact with Eddie. He probably would have chosen the awkward standing, had Eddie not chosen the opposite.

“Well, if it isn’t HARVEST in the flesh. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie began. He was smiling, but his tone was biting. Steve looked at Eddie, nodded his head toward Chrissy and Robin, then looked back at Eddie. He shrugged. “Ah, I see.”

“Yeah.”

“No other reason?” Eddie prodded, playing dumb.

“Nope,” Steve said. “Like I said, I live right -”

“Down the road,” Eddie interrupted. “So I heard.” Steve swallowed. He kinda felt like he was being interrogated or something. Eddie was making this extremely uncomfortable.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Steve wondered, desperately wanting this interaction to be over. Unfortunately, Chrissy and Robin were still chatting eagerly.

“Like what, HARVEST?” Eddie asked. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Steve is fine.”

“Hmm, is he though?” Eddie retorted. “I don’t think you want me to treat you like I treat Steve.”

God, Eddie knew how to push Steve’s buttons. His heart was racing, he was so mad. He clenched his jaw and considered how bad it would be to smack the smug grin off Eddie’s face.

Really bad. He knew that. He took deep breaths instead and relaxed. His hands had balled into fists at some point during the conversation. He extended his fingers out, flexing them. He was trying to leave this version of himself in the past, not bring him back. Another deep breath.

“Whatever, Munson,” Steve sighed. “I just -”

“Hey, guys?” Robin said, diverting the attention to her. She pointed to the window, where a crowd of people had gathered.

Some of them had cameras.

“Shit,” Chrissy said. “How long do you think they’ve been there?”

“I dunno,” Steve responded. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Chrissy agreed. Eddie and Robin looked at each other this time, both outside of Chrissy and Steve’s shared understanding.

Good thing all of them looked nice. Those pictures were gonna be all over the place tomorrow.

Steve was here a lot, so he knew the bartenders and the owners, and he also knew how to sneak out when things like this happened.

“Come on,” he said, urging Chrissy to follow him. With Steve came Robin, and Eddie sure as hell didn’t want to be left there alone, so he came too. Oh, joy.

The four of them walked past the bar and through a sign marked for employees only. They wandered through the kitchen and left out a black door that led to an alley behind the building.

“So, what now?” Robin asked once they were outside.

“I’ll give them about two minutes until they find us,” Steve replied.

“Is there somewhere else we could go?” Chrissy wondered. “I kind of don’t want to go home yet.”

“Well, I know HARVEST over here lives nearby,” Eddie said.

“Will you quit it with the HARVEST thing?” Steve complained.

“Sorry, do you prefer Harvey?” Eddie shot back. Steve groaned.

“You’re impossible.”

“Oh, boy,” Chrissy mumbled.

“I know, right?” Robin agreed. “Steve, can we go back to yours?”

“All of us?” Steve asked, knowing the answer already. It was his apartment. He could have flat out said that Eddie wasn’t allowed in. But he saw the look in Robin’s eyes, and he knew that if they all went back to the apartment, she could spend more time with Chrissy. “Alright, fine. Let’s go.”

Steve’s apartment was nice. It was huge, spacious, and all the utilities worked. It was also minimalist in that Steve hadn’t put up any decorations. He had the essentials - a couch, a TV, a table. Not much more.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to have people over,” Steve said as they walked in.

“It’s beautiful,” Chrissy said.

“It’s empty,” Eddie noted. His apartment was a lot smaller, but it also was a lot more filled up. This place had nothing, basically. Eddie almost made a comment about Steve not having any money to decorate after paying what he assumed was an absurd rent, but he held his tongue.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Robin agreed. “I keep throwing ideas his way, but he’d rather live in an asylum, basically.”

“I’m not here that often,” Steve explained, shrugging. “Sue me.”

“It definitely could use some color,” Chrissy agreed. “Art on the walls, maybe a rug -”

“Yes! Exactly!” Robin exclaimed. “I even have a Pinterest board.”

“Oh my god, can I see it?” Chrissy asked. Robin nodded, and then they were both sitting across the room looking at decor or some shit. All of the logistical stuff related to interior design was beyond Eddie. He just bought things that he liked and then put them where they best fit. He didn’t know anything about color-coding, and he didn’t even know what Pinterest was.

Anyway, Robin and Chrissy bonding so aggressively and so immediately (which was interesting, to say the least) left Eddie semi-alone with Steve once again.

“Can we talk?” Steve asked, surprising the hell out of Eddie. He had given Steve zero reason to want to talk to him, he’d made sure of it. Like, Eddie had been at his maximum asshole level for a few reasons. First and foremost, it was payback for high school. Second, it was fun. And third, because Eddie didn’t like Steve, and because he currently didn’t have anywhere else to direct his anger.

He didn’t say they were good reasons.

“Uh, suuuuure,” Eddie replied. Steve gestured for Eddie to follow him down the hall so they could have some privacy.

Oh, great. Now we’re fully alone.

Chrissy was amazing. She was wonderful. She was everything Robin hoped she’d be. It was almost too good to be true. No, it was definitely too good to be true.

They were huddled over Robin’s phone, talking about color theory and decorations which turned into art and hobbies which turned into a discussion about college (Robin went, Chrissy didn’t) and then finally their conversation settled on music.

“Have you listened to their stuff?” Robin asked, gesturing towards where the boys had gone. It had been a few minutes and no arguing or fights breaking out yet, as far as she could tell. Of course, she hadn’t been listening that intently.

“Sure,” Chrissy responded. “Corroded Coffin not so much, but that’s just because I’m not into that sort of music.”

“Very fair.”

“Yeah. But HARVEST I hear all the time. That one song is literally impossible to escape from.”

“Oh, we know,” Robin replied with a laugh. “Steve secretly can’t stand it’s that song that blew up.”

“What do you mean?” Chrissy wondered.

“Like, it’s definitely his most commercial song,” Robin explained. “I’ve been listening to Steve’s music since we met, and it’s a little out there sometimes, but now that I’m used to it I’m all for it. Anyway, his favorite songs are the ones most people haven’t heard. That’s why his new album is - I mean that’s why he -”

Robin stopped herself from saying the rest. Chrissy was great, but Robin wasn’t about to spill all of her best friend’s secrets.

“That’s why he what?” Chrissy teased, nudging Robin in the shoulder.

Dammit. It was really hard to avoid temptation when temptation was someone as vibrant as Chrissy Cunningham.

“That’s why he’s so excited about it,” Robin concluded.

Thank god. I can keep my best friend card.

“Oh, okay,” Chrissy said, nodding. “I’ll have to listen to his other stuff then.”

“Let me know what you think,” Robin replied.

“Of course I will.” Chrissy smiled, then pulled out her phone. To Robin’s surprise, she handed it to her with an empty contact open.

Holy shit.

Robin typed in her name and number, then triple checked to make sure she put it in correctly before handing the phone back to Chrissy.

“There you go,” she said, doing her best to remain calm.

“Thank you,” Chrissy said. “Wow, it’s so crazy. First with Eddie, now with you. I just feel like we’re all going to be really good friends.”

Friends. GOD. Ouch.

Robin probably should have expected that. She had expected it, really, but it stung nonetheless. That was okay. They could be friends. Robin cleared her throat and hoped she didn’t sound too disappointed.

“Yeah, if the two idiots in there can get their shit together,” Robin joked.

“I know!” Chrissy agreed. “Like, what’s going on with them?”

“I honestly have no idea.” She looked down the hall, still not hearing any arguing.

If she’d been alone, she would have pressed her ear to the door and listened in, but she had to be on her best behavior. You know, for her new friend.

“Sooo, what the hell is going on?” Eddie asked once they were in a different room. It looked like an office. There was music equipment everywhere.

“I’m just gonna go ahead and tell you a bunch of shit, okay? Because the last hour or so has been crazy and I’m still kind of hungover and I’m not interested in doing a whole dance with you.”

“Yeah, you made that clear last night when you didn’t dance with me,” Eddie deadpanned.

“Jesus,” Steve exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you just -”

“You wanna tell me something, so skip the preamble and tell me -”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Steve snapped. “I’m sorry for - I’m sorry about high school. I was an idiot.”

Oh. Well, shit.

“Past tense?” Eddie teased.

“Go to hell.”

“Okay, okay, point taken,” he relented with a light chuckle. “Thanks. I appreciate the apology.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Eddie confirmed. “Don’t worry, I’m still iffy about you for a bunch of other reasons.”

“Great,” Steve said, returning Eddie’s sarcastic tone.

“Cool,” Eddie replied. “So, is that it?”

“No.”

“No?” Eddie prodded.

“Wait, what are the other reasons?” Steve asked, losing his train of thought. Eddie scoffed.

“You want me to tell you why I don’t like you?” Eddie rebuffed. “Are you into that or something?”

“No, I just -”

“Come on, spit it out,” he demanded. “The quicker you say what you’re gonna say, the less time we have to talk to each other. What is it?”

Steve took a deep breath.

“I want my album to do well, and ever since this whole steddie thing happened, people have actually started talking about it, and -”

“Waaaait a goddamn second,” Eddie drawled. “Are you saying you want to actually, like, do the fake relationship thing?”

“No, I just don’t want to deny it,” Steve responded. “Let them talk, you know.”

Eddie almost laughed. Jesus Christ, this was rich. Eddie thought he’d be the one begging for scraps, yet here he was, in Steve’s apartment, listening to his high school bully ask him for a favor.

Eddie weighed his options. If he said no, it would feel great in the moment, but then this would be over.

The tables were turning, and he wasn’t going to let a bit of his power go to waste.

“Hmm, very interesting, Harvey,” he said. “The King’s come crawling back to the freak.” Steve scoffed.

“Our fake relationship benefits you more than me, you do realize that, right?” he reminded Eddie. “I’m just fine on my own. You get a popularity boost from this, so maybe you should try not to be a total asshole for once. I could find literally anyone else to do this with.”

The thing was, Eddie knew that wasn’t true. He could see right through the bullshit.

“You’re bluffing,” Eddie stated.

“What?”

“You’re bluffing,” he repeated. “Lest we forget you’re the one who asked me to go along with this.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, ‘lest we forget.’ Why do you talk like that?”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Edde said, his eyes boring into Steve’s.

“What question?”

“Come on, Harrington. You want me. Why?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, but didn’t break away.

“Okay, calm down with the whole ‘I want you’ thing, alright?” Steve’s agitation was just too cute. It was so easy to rile him up. “I’m doing this for my album, just like you are.”

“Yeaaah, I don’t buy it. What else is it?” Eddie couldn’t help it. He had to keep pushing.

“There’s nothing else, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me, then,” he teased. “Let me guess. All those years ago when you laughed at me in high school, you were really just harboring some hidden crush on me that didn’t fully come to fruition until you saw me at Frolique?”

Steve’s face went pale, and for a moment Eddie wondered if he’d gone too far.

“Oh my god,” Steve scoffed. “Could you not be a jackass for literally one second?”

“Wait, was I right?” Eddie took a step forward, intrigued by the idea.

“No, you weren’t right, Munson,” Steve insisted. “I didn’t have a crush on you, I was just a dick.”

Ah. So much for that. Eddie shook his head and smiled.

“And now you’re just so goddamn pleasant, huh?” He turned to look at all the expensive shit Steve kept in there - high-tech recording equipment, instruments, microphones, sheet music.

“Usually, yeah,” Steve replied. “I’m actually nice to most people.” Eddie’s eyes were still focused on the sheet music, an increasing curiosity within him, but he held back and returned his focus to Steve.

“Aw, so I’m the exception? See, I knew I was special.”

If being a dick was so bad, then why was it so fun?

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” Steve asked.

“Oh god, sooooo many things,” Eddie replied. He meant it, too. He knew he had issues, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to talk to Steve about them. “And for the record, I can be pleasant too. Just ask Chrissy.”

“When did you get so close with her, anyway?”

“Since about an hour ago,” Eddie answered. “Anyway, I’m an absolute delight, Harrington. I only bite when it’s fun.”

“Then you must be having the time of your goddamn life,” Steve remarked.

It wasn’t not true, but once again, Eddie needed to be unpredictable. He just had this compulsive need to throw Steve off, to keep him guessing. Yeah, being an asshole to Steve Harrington was fun, but Eddie didn’t forget how much he hated the guy and everything he stood for.

“God, I wish,” he replied. “I hate this, but I’ll have fun when I can. I mean, my career is important, too. Why do you think I made a big fool of myself at that party? I fucking danced in public so that I could talk to you. I already told you - I don’t like your music, or your weird persona, and I don’t really care for you off-stage either.”

“Yeah? Well, the feeling is mutual,” Steve shot back.

Eddie smirked, a fire within him that somehow bloomed and burned at the same time. Matter is neither created nor destroyed right? Eddie was never that good in school, but that phrase always stuck with him. The fire - the anger, the pain, the hurt - it fueled him and it broke him down. An endless cycle. What he loved. What he didn’t. All of it was the same.

“Let me be fucking clear,” Eddie said. “I’m not doing this because it’s fun. I’m doing it because I get something out of it, got it?”

“Got it,” Steve replied. The air between them was tense, and it made Eddie feel alive.

“Okay,” he said at last. “Then we’ll let them talk.”

----------------------------------

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#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #steddie fic #i can't tune you out #st fanfic #writing #eddie munson x steve harrington

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