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#Thank you kindly for the ask! :)

lajulie24 · 9 months

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5, 19, 27?

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

This is always a tough question to answer, because for most things I definitely like to think that if I like the idea enough I will probably write it…someday. So I guess I will answer with things I am unlikely to write?

I sometimes joke about the idea of a Sequel Trilogy fix in which we learn that the Han, Leia, and Luke from the new movies are not the real versions, they’re clones a la Luuke from the Thrawn Trilogy, while the real ones were never apart and are off having drinks with Lando or something. I probably won’t write that because it’s a little unlikely that they wouldn’t at least try to help fix the galaxy that their clones messed up, especially if the child of two of their clones is wrecking such havoc on everything. So it’s the kind of idea that works better as a joke than an actual story.

I’ve had a few ideas for modern AUs that I likely will never write, mostly because modern AUs are really tough to pull off! And I rather enjoy keeping Han and Leia and their friends in the GFFA.

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

Here, have a little bit of Han with a baby from the next chapter of A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing):

He suddenly missed his own mother terribly, and that wasn’t something he normally allowed to happen, outside of those times where he’d been sicker than a dog and praying for her or for death, whichever one arrived first. And he wasn’t sure why he wanted Ma here now– to witness this, or to help him figure out how to make something of this mess he’d managed to get Leia and this baby into.

He brought the baby closer, and kissed her gently on her forehead. She made another little eh noise, and he smiled.

“You need a name, Kid,” he said, grasping for nicknames. “Sweetheart. Baby. You see, ‘cause the kid is ‘Kid,’ and your mom is ‘Sweetheart,’ and I guess–” he chuckled at himself, recalling Luke’s joke from hours ago– “the Falcon is ‘Baby,’ so you need your own. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ strong.”

The baby’s eyes opened and seemed to focus on him again. That really didn’t seem like it should be possible yet, but Leia and Luke seemed to specialize in “things you shouldn’t be able to do but do anyway,” so maybe this was just part of the package with babies who had the Force.

Yeah, Leia’s eyes, for sure. No matter what color they ended up being.

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

I will admit to being nervous about posting almost every fic I write — excited, eager, can’t wait to share it too, but always a little nervous. It never goes away! And especially for fics where I’ve tried something a little different from what I often write. I was nervous about Epic Love because I was so excited to try to fix TFA the way I wanted it and it felt like a huge responsibility; I was nervous about The Book of the Lovers because it was a really different format from my usual; I was nervous about posting the first chapter of A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing) because it was a WILD premise; I’m always nervous about posting smut because I’m always worried about how well it actually worked.

Thank you so much for the ask!

Fanfic asks — “I’m bored and anxious so I slapped together a list of fanfic asks”

#ask lajulie #fanfic ask meme #bored and anxious fanfic asks #a fic i will never write?#snippet from a wip #a fic i was nervous to share #han x leia #hanleia #Star Wars #han solo #leia organa #otterandterrier #thank you kindly for the ask!

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croziers-compass · 6 months

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Raspberry, charcoal, navy, lilac, steel, sapphire, carmine, mulberry, and lemon

Raspberry - Oh we will kill god together. I can help with that no doubt! That's been the plan the whole time! Charcoal - I am flattered you think I have the best takes on things. That is very kind of you indeed! Navy - Oh goodness gracious me! I do not even know what to say! Bashfully humbled, I am for certain! Generous words, thank you! Lilac - I am very pleased that you find my content enjoyable! I am flattered that I warm you so pleasantly! Steel - You do me too well! I am exceptionally pleased you find my content good and wholly enjoyable. I hope to add and contribute to communities and fandoms wholesomely and without jagged edges. Sapphire - I nervous laughed so hard. My inbox is always open if you need to pluck at my mind! You are not troubling me I assure you! Carmine - Your heart is pure! But you must forgive me, my heart is horribly run aground by an Irish Sea Captain - anchor dropped to boot, Nonnie. I do not even know the face you wear beyond that grey visage! (You are incredibly sweet. I am utterly flattered beyond comprehension.) Mulberry - Oh I wholeheartedly believe that everyone really ought to be having far more gay sex than what they currently are. It is lacking in a broad amount of places! This we must remedy by re-creating the Franklin Expedition as is our duty for... what is it? Queen and Country? For the "Discovery" Service? There'll be some discoveries, no doubt about that.

#This was incredibly fun #Thank you kindly for the ask!#kissing both of your cheeks and then your hands

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valeffelees · 1 year

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🌹🌹🌹

“Penny will understand,” Simon says. He sits on the edge of their bed with a knee tucked beneath his hips, leaning his weight back onto his hands. Beneath him, their duvet is still twisted loose and the sheets still smell musky and warm, like sex and sleep.

#i think i was actually supposed to post three random sentences from three different wips #but instead i just posted three sentences from the same wip because i dunno i am bad at ask games and like to break the rules ig 💀#thank you kindly for the ask!#ask game #snowbaz

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matrilinear · 1 year

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what ailments was our sweet soreana given with her attempted poisoning? And what has she recovered from?

I needed to inject some drama into it so I made it so that the effects were from both dermal absorption and ingestion. The latter can easily be explained away as an accident. The poison was likely magically-altered to be harsher than most common toxins.

It started off as a rash leading to itching, blisters, and hair loss further exacerbated by ointments she used to relieve the above. It then quickly spiraled into dizziness, nausea, blurred vision, and other more typical poisoning symptoms. That was when physicians started filing into the mansion to try and save Lady Du Couteau's life. It took a long while, which was time spent either bed- or chair-bound or walking around latched to Cassiopeia's arm.

As for what she's recovered from, she no longer experiences rashes or blisters, is only occasionally itchy, though she unfortunately was left with sparseness in places that she covers up with dye jobs and certain hairstyles. It's all the more tragic considering her tailbone-length hair used to be one of her most striking features.

She is also not as faint as she sometimes pretends to be; more often than not she fakes it to remove herself from difficult conversations. Still, she does often experience anemic spells owing to her thoroughly wrecked digestive tract. No skipping meals anymore, even if she's busy. Nunzio kindly reminds her. It used to be Cassiopeia who lured her with food. Alas!

#thank you kindly for the ask!#》. answered #》. headcanons #mercless

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myfriendgoo94 · 2 years

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What are some games you were surprised to fall in love with?

I think dark souls and binding of isaac are two huge ones, checked them out years ago when i was kinda just trying to get a sense of every notable game out there, and i ended up falling deeply in love with both. Playing an isaac run rn actually. Also i recently started playing medal of honor 1 on ps1 and am kinda amazed just how fun it is honestly

#thank you kindly for the ask!

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noxxytocin · 8 days

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#36

I firmly believe in being transparent and genuine with people. I think honesty is the best policy and it can help to build strong relationships. However, there are times when I feel the need to put up emotional barriers and shield myself from others. Despite this, I tend to be more open than guarded, but I don't share everything with everyone. It takes a deep connection and a close bond for me to be able to reveal my innermost thoughts and feelings. In other words, my pages are not easily turned unless I trust someone completely. 📖

#anon #thank you kindly for the ask!

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aidanchaser · 24 days

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For the fanfic writer ask game!: 😱What's your greatest fear as a fanfic writer? 🌷What's one of your fics that isn't as popular, but you hold dear? 🦗Do you write in sequence or jump around? (if you want to answer them!)

ah so many~ thank you ur very kind

from this ask game!

😱What's your greatest fear as a fanfic writer?

oh geez tbh too many to name and none that matter UM. probably my biggest fear is that i will be misunderstood, which is inevitable in art, since art is a form of communication and there will always be miscommunication, but i try so hard to be heard and to be understood that I think it hurts the most when i am not understood

🌷What's one of your fics that isn't as popular, but you hold dear?

Ooh. I went and sorted my works by kudos and started from the bottom and while there are a few special ones down there, I think the most special one is The Butterfly Effect. I really enjoyed getting to play with an Adrien who's turned bitter, who mirrors his father's canon mistakes. It's also a really experimental style for me, and I liked playing with the lyrics of the song in that new way.

🦗Do you write in sequence or jump around?

I'm about 90% in sequence. I will jump around for climactic events, though, or dramatic backstory reveals. With the HP AU, I wrote the final climax about 8 different times over the 9 years of that project before I actually got to the ending. I also had a big character reveal chapter that I sat on for four of those years. For Boulangerella, I wrote the chapter "Emotion" where Gabriel tries to claim Tikki and Plagg's power long before I even began publishing the work. But, at the end of the day, I put most of it in sequence. It's just the dramatic turning points I'll flesh out early on to make sure all seeds are appropriately planted.

#thank you kindly for the ask!#chitchat #ask game #jattendschaton

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 months

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Hi I hate to be cheesy but I wanted to say that while a lot of people - very rightly!!! - point out how cool your art is and how inspirational it is that you showed art can be learned, not just a rare natural born talent, I also LOVE your sense of humor. The dialog and visual jokes are always so sharp and are guarenteed to make me laugh! Because I'm autistic as hell lol I like to bookmark things I can read through over agian when I'm looking for laughs and your blog is now high on the list! Thx!

Be not afraid to be cheesy; your genuine message has brought me immense joy B’*)

#ask #non mdzs #<-temp tag until i figure out a good sona tag name #I am currently living in a hazy state of exhastion so I cannot make my thoughts as clear as I would like - however #Thank you kindly for sending such a sweet message💙#I am very glad to be the funny little creature that brightens someone’s day #Also very happy to have the autism brain brrrr seal of approval. A true honour B*)#I’d Love to know your favourites if you’re comfortable sharing. Sort of a cool littlt tidbit to know!#I hope you have a great day! Tha k you again for your support!#(meant to combine this with the jyl post - for the 27th- whoops! this is how far we have fumbled the ball these last two weeks)

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sailing-through-hawkins · 8 months

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✧ dedicated to that one anon that made me feel so happy about the siren kas au again!! also thank you mea for beta-reading this for me you are a lifesaver!! going to tag @xenon-demon and @chaoticlovingdreamer because i know you both were interested in this idea hope it's cool to tag you!! ✧

The first time it happens, it's not a big deal.

They were on their way to start a supply run, some small groceries, snacks and sweets, to try and keep the mood up.

He had already done his rounds, checked in on El (still exhausted) and Dustin (still sleeping with his head on his mom's lap; she's still wiping her tears away when Steve sees her) and the Byers (still huddled together, warm, loving). He felt a twinge in his chest at the absence of Lucas and Erica but he knows they're with their parents because they did a check-in literally ten minutes ago. They're safe.

Steve knows they're safe. He just wishes they felt safe.

A whole month of fear and caution but this time, instead of a couple of kids sharing glances across town, nodding and walking on, it's everyone in Hawkins, gawking up at the dark clouds without any idea of what's been happening under their noses for years.

He wishes they never had to find out.

"Hey," Robin says, grasping his hand as she steps out onto the doorstep next to him. "We got this, right?"

"Yeah," Steve grips her hand back, stroking his thumb over the ink doodles across her knuckles. Sometimes he thinks the only reason they'll make it is that he's got her by his side. "We got this."

She smiles a thin, watery smile, lifts up her mask and makes her way to the car. He inhales, covers his nose with the black bandana Dustin gave him and follows behind her, gripping at the cold, empty space in his palm.

The forest was always one of the worst parts of living in this house, but the darkness has turned it ashy and cold, like something out of a zombie movie. He wonders, as he stares through the trees, if Barb got to see the forest before she was pulled through.

That's when he hears the music.

An echo of a guitar strumming. It's faint, the sound warbling as the guitar gets tuned and re-tuned every few strums.

It's so quiet, he thinks, so why does it sound so close?

"Steve?" Robin calls out, her eyes as wide and beautiful and terrified as ever under her goggles. She stands next to his car, one hand tapping the hood nervously. "You ready?"

Steve blinks and shakes his head, the echo of the guitar fading away as he twirls his keys around his finger. "Ready."

Probably just someone playing around on the radio or something, he reasons as he starts the engine.

No big deal.

Two days later and everyone is in the living room.

Everyone meaning literally everyone, even fucking Mrs Wheeler, all to discuss shelter for the families who lost their houses in the earthquake.

Steve's house is already full of most of the Party (Dustin insisted they use the name for the entire Upside-Down-Expert-Team), otherwise he'd offer it as a place for people to stay in until they can get something more permanent.

That's all this place is good for anyways. Just a rest stop.

"I appreciate that, Mom." Nancy taps her finger on the dining table, eyes squinting and lips squeezed into a very fake smile. Steve winces and starts to make his way to the sun room, gripping the blankets in his arms tightly as she continues. "But some of these people need -"

It's pretty easy to tune the discussion out, focusing on laying out the blankets and making as much of the space as comfortable as possible. The big windows let so much sunlight in, it's perfect for anyone who wants to soak up in the warmth. The only problem is the view.

He pointedly doesn't look at the pool, hands on his hips as he surveys the room, and that's when he starts to hear the guitar again. The strumming starts up quietly and washes over him, re-tuning itself every time he starts to rearrange the blankets again. A few minutes of tuning and it starts to play a song this time.

Steve tilts his head, staring out at the pool. Someone must have switched on the lights when it started getting dark.

When did it get so dark? He should go back and check on everyone, make sure they're comfortable. Is there enough space? Maybe he should redo the blankets?

The song soaks the back of his neck.

The blankets are perfect. He and Robin just can share.

It's so familiar, he thinks, as the water ripples with the wind. Something he's heard, but not listened to.

There shouldn't be any water in the pool. Why is there -

The song is slow, coiling behind his ear and gently drifting down his shoulders, making him shiver. He thinks he should know the music, humming along to it as the guitar starts to get louder. It feels nice, a comforting chill down his back that eases the tension of his wounds.

His wounds. Robin. Robin, his bat bites still hurt, why does it hurt so much, what's -

Oh, he thinks as the music plays even louder in his ear, in his mind, that's not the radio.

"Steve!"

Robin is crying, hands crushing his jaw, her face blocking the view of the empty pool. The music is gone.

"Steve, please!"

"Rob?" he croaks, swallowing the dryness of his tongue. His head feels flooded with a fuzziness, blood rushing through his veins like it was moving too slowly before. He blinks when he realizes they're outside now, standing between the pool and the house. It's still daylight. "What -?"

She pulls him into a hug, and he struggles, but manages to wrap his own arms around her, if kinda slowly. "You just - you weren't saying anything and started walking to the pool and I couldn't stop you -"

"Steve," Nancy says somewhere to his left. He barely manages to lift his head to look at her, blue eyes sharp and a Walkman held tightly in her hand. "What did you see?"

The fuzziness is fading away but his brain is still moving through a fog to connect words together. "I heard music."

Robin's face is in front of his again, eyes wide and beautiful and terrified. Oh, Robbie. "Vecna uses music now?"

"Not Vecna." Steve wrinkles his nose. "It...wasn't Vecna."

"How do you know that?" Nancy squints at him and he rests his forehead against Robin's, his bones melting into stone, too heavy to hold up. He hears the creak of the Walkman, Nancy gripping it tighter. "Steve, how do you know it's not Vecna?"

"Music w's nice." His eyes are closing. "Felt nice."

After that, the plan was never leave Steve alone.

It made bathroom breaks awkward but Argyle was so chill about it that Steve didn't even mind after the first two trips.

El couldn't find anything Upside-Downy on him, and there was the entire town with Upside-Downy shit happening everywhere, so there wasn't really much more to the plan than him having a bodyguard.

They made a chart for their shifts. God, he loves these shitheads.

"Here, man," Argyle says quietly, handing over three slices of pizza with a wink. Steve thanks him with a real, if exhausted, smile. Sleep hasn't been easy for the past week. "Fresh outta the oven."

"You're a godsend, dude," Steve groans, blowing air on the pizza slice. Mike grumbles under his breath about "hair-bias", whatever the fuck that means. Erica just rolls her eyes and shoves at his head.

The Sinclairs are visiting today, the parents persuaded by Lucas and Erica's whining (and a little bit of Steve's charm) so they can spend more time at "home base" with the others.

They're sat in the living room, eating lunch as rays of sunlight shine on the food like some kind of holy blessing, with the rest of the Party.

The rest of the survivors would be more accurate.

He tries not thinking about it, tries to appreciate the warm cheese and loud laughter. There's too much to not think about. How Max isn't here, how she deserves more, how he wants to see her okay and alive and happy.

Eddie isn't here either, and he doesn't think about how much he deserved better too.

"Steve thought it was cool! Right, Steve?"

He wishes Eddie could have made it, that Dustin didn't have to lose him like that.

Hell, they could have been friends. Maybe buried the hatchet so they could make fun of Dustin together, catch each other's eye whenever the tone makes an appearance and just laugh whenever he wasn't looking.

"I said, right, Steve?"

Maybe they could have hung out. Steve would come over to his trailer - or maybe Eddie would come over for a swim - and he'd make fun of Eddie's taste in bands - or maybe he'd listen to him play his guitar, never looking away from those ringed fingers as they created wonderful, wonderful music.

"Dude?"

Oh shit, the music is back. That's probably not good, is it?

But it's so sweet. So calming and cool, like a balm against his torn skin, washing over the dark feelings that built up in his ribcage.

"Steve!"

The song ripples through his veins and he sighs at the feeling. The pool doesn't have water anymore, he thinks. He emptied it so long ago. The music is sad, and his heart clenches at the sound.

The lake has water, he thinks. And the song turns light, sweet, calling him, curling around him, pulling him towards -

"Sorry about this, dude."

"Fuck!" Steve gasps when he hits the ground, groaning as his back ache returns at full force. "What the fuck, man?"

To his credit, Argyle looks genuinely sorry and helps him back onto his feet, holding Steve up with a tight arm around his waist and a tighter grip on his wrist. His shoulder aches at being thrown over Argyle's neck but walking is a lot easier when someone else is carrying half the weight.

He feels so heavy now.

"What - happened?" Steve croaks as they hobble back to the house. When did he leave it?

"You just got up and you weren't -" Dustin swallows, his voice croaky like he'd been yelling. "It's like you weren't even there."

"God, you can't keep doing this, Steve," Robin smacks his shoulder with a tight smile, tears still unshed in her eyes. His chest aches at them. "How many times are you gonna walk out on me?"

"Sorry Robbie," he says and accepts her very tight ow, ow, ow hug with a sad laugh. "I don't know what's going on."

"Was it the music again?" Will asks quietly.

Steve looks at him, leaning his head against Robin's. When did he get so tall? When did they all grow up already? "Yeah," Steve replies, just as quiet. He swallows when Robin lets out a sob into his shoulder. "It was the same song."

By the time his brain is fully functional ("Debatable," Mike sneers, crying out when El smacks him up the head), everyone's already discussing the new plan.

"We'll need to make notes, figure out the pattern, see if there're any triggers for Steve." Nancy said and he tries not to let it get to him, the fact that he needs babysitting now, that he can't do anything without being watched. "If the music makes people feel...good, it could still be a whole new tactic. Maybe Vecna wants our guard down, maybe he's countering our favourite songs, maybe it's a distraction. We have to be ready."

Steve still wants to grumble that it could never be Vecna, that's insulting, but he's too tired to argue about anything anymore.

They've even rearranged who sleeps where so that the Sinclairs can sleep over. They take one of the guest rooms while Mrs Henderson and Dustin join Steve in his own room. He almost loses his mind cackling when the both of them eye his wallpaper with the same mix of disgust and fascination. When Mrs Henderson sees the curtains, she almost gags and it's the loudest he's laughed in a long time.

"You're gonna be okay," Dustin tells him right before they fall asleep. Steve looks up at him from the floor where he lays, couch pillows doing more for his back than training against monsters ever did. "You'll be fine."

"'Course I will, dude," Steve smiles at him as Mrs Henderson leaves the room to talk to Hopper one last time. Tews is curled up on the bed, purrs loud, almost melodic, and lulling Steve's thoughts into a calm. "If the giant flesh monster couldn't get us, no way some wrinkly old naked guy will."

Dustin laughs outrageously at that and Steve wants to coo, wants to cry, wants to grip Dustin tightly in his arms and hide him away from the world, hide them all away in this empty house and make it full, make it safe for them, for Max, for Robin.

He doesn't.

He eventually falls asleep to the sound of Dustin muttering under his breath. And when Steve sleeps, he dreams.

It's so cold around him, so dark and empty. The sky thunders red and the cries of so many monsters echo around him. But there, through the cold and the shadows and the monsters, there's the song, calling to him.

I'm here, he thinks as he trudges his way through the inky mass of thick liquid, not water, not blood, but enough of both to make his steps heavy. I'm coming.

The song curls up on his skin, on his bat bites, soft and sweet and cold, like that time Robin spilled ice cream all over the -

"Steve!"

Robin. Where's - where's Robin?

Shh, it's okay. She's fine. Everyone's fine. Keep going.

Oh, he thinks. Of course. Everyone's okay, he knows they are, right?

Steve pauses his next step.

Right?

The song is even lonelier now and he shakes off the questions clouding his mind. It croons to him, so happy as he makes it through the ink to the shore. It sounds so sweet, that's it, keep going, come on.

He's crawling at this point, body heavy with the weight, until the song lifts him up onto his knees and he looks up to see -

"Snap out of it!"

Steve gasps at the sting on his cheek, blinking when light hits his eyes fiercely, shapes and sounds moving around him from a distance. There's a buzzing coiling behind his ears.

"Steve?"

Dustin's terrified face finally comes into focus behind his mother, who is standing right in front of Steve with her arm stretched across the space between them. Steve blinks, "Hold on, did you just slap me?"

"I'm so sorry, Steve," Mrs Henderson says and just like Argyle, she seems to really mean it. Does she? Her outstretched hand rests on his forehead as the other grips his upper arm. His back aches. His torso burns. Where did the song go? "We were so scared, you weren't saying anything -"

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Would never, of course not, just needed to keep going.

They both deny it vehemently. "Of course not! You were just - staring. Out the window. At -"

"At the pool," Steve hisses, biting his lip.

"Yeah," Dustin breathes out, his eyes watering as he reaches out to grab Steve's wrist. "But you're - you're back now. We just - just need to slap you out of it. What's another concussion, right?"

Steve laughs because Dustin's voice is so choked up that if he doesn't laugh, he'll cry. He ruffles the curls of his hair with a smile. A sinking feeling claws at him from the inside of his stomach. Can't he listen to the song one more time?

"Steve?"

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm -" Steve swallows as the blood in his veins prickles. Won't you hear me one more time? "I - I don't want to listen. I won't."

"Can you still hear it?!"

Please? It would make us so happy, Steve.

"I - no, no, I -"

"Steve?! Guys! Code red, code red, please!"

Please, Steve. Please?

"Okay," he says, eyes drooping as the melody curls up around his waist, brushing against the inside of his skin, pooling around his chest, thrumming in time with his heart beat. It feels so sweet, so good, thank you, come here, come here. "Okay."

"El, do something, please!"

The song turns harsh, gnawing on his bones, piercing through his skull, pushing him to the ground as someone is interrupting, no interruptions, leave us alone, alone, alone. The pain builds up crawling and clawing up to his chest to his shoulders to his head, his head, it hurts, it hurts so much, please stop, just stop. "Fuck, fuck -"

"Steve?" Dustin whimpers and he aches, he aches, he aches.

He screams.

When he wakes up, it's to dawn creeping through the windows and rope around his body.

Red sunlight, just like in Mike's Superman comic books, covered by dark clouds.

A red sun to the blue moon. Right side up to the upside down. You to me.

"Whe -" Steve croaks, his eyes creaking open. Fuck, they're so crusty, that's gross. "Where?"

"Steve!"

Robin's face in front of his, beautiful and terrified. He squints up at her, glancing over to find Dustin and Lucas staring at him with wide eyes, Hopper behind them. They watch him and they nod. Others are coming in, Mrs Byers and Jonathan and Nancy -

Steve hisses as something claws through him for the fourth time that night, pain, pain, go away, go away -

"Shit, shit, shit, everyone get in position, -"

"Will, get over here, he's gonna -"

Come here, come on, please? Won't you come back?

"Where are you?" Steve murmurs as the pain turns into the music, gliding over him, like a wave coming to shore, pulling him back to the water, back to us.

"He's talking to the siren! Somebody get -"

Come here, come back, come to me.

"Can't find you," he says, slurring his words as the song combs through his hair, like fingers scratching against his scalp. "Where're you?"

"That's it, Steve, keep talking, we got you -"

Want you here, with us, want us together, don't you?

"Yeah, yes, together," he sighs, the melody trilling in his chest, happy, sweet, soft, perfect, it'll be perfect, together, all together, just before someone reaches for his hand

He hisses and the song pulls away roughly, leaving him floating in the void, he cries out for it to come back, but he betrayed them, shouldn't have done that, Stevie, you tried to trick us -

"Shit!" Steve drops back to the bed with lead in his bones. El is still holding his hand. He was so close, the connection just barely at his fingertips.

Dustin swears as the others start to argue. The frustration is building up in the room, everyone too tense to think about answers, you sly dog, that was clever, but we don't like traitors -

"Wait, no," Steve gasps as something claws in his wounds, amused, you tried to trick me? Fine, no more playing around. "Fuck, wait -"

And the song crashes into the shore, pulls him down under where everything is sweet and cold, right back where you belong.

It's so warm out here, between the trees.

The skin on his back was blistering, biting at his flesh, before the song had gently cooled it down. He shivers at the chill, smiling when the song pulls him forward, looping around him with a sweet hum. It feels so nice, to hear the song without any distractions.

Without any interruptions.

Keep going.

Steve sighs when the song runs through his hair, laughing when it musses it all up. His hand twitches, he wants to fix it up until it's perfect again.

Keep going.

There are noises behind him, the sound of running and metal-on-flesh. It's all so slow, even slower than him. He doesn't know what's behind him, just the dark and gentle song pulling at his veins.

Keep going.

He makes it to the water, to the lake. There is no moonlight, but the song guides his steps, keeps him light. How sweet, he thinks, how sweet of you.

He makes it until his waist is plunged in the frigid water and then the song stops. He looks around but can't see anything in the shadows. There are sounds of humans yelling, of monstrous shrieks behind him, but where is the song?

"Hey."

He looks up and sees crimson eyes, half-lidded, and a smile staring down at him. Massive black wings blow gusts of wind at him. He shivers, and gives a smile in return.

His song.

The wings slow down until big, red eyes are level with his own, curls of black falling with gravity to brush against his cheek. The song hums in his chest, satisfied, delighted and sweet.

"Miss me, big boy?"

#steve harrington #steddie #writing #au content: kas!eddie #ficlet #sailing✧siren!kas #sailor✧writes #i fucking did it guys are you proud of me #i ended up adding a whole 1k because i wanted to smooth it out before posting so thank you kindly to the anon who asked me about this #i appreciate you so much and i hope you see this #can you believe half the reason this took me so long was because i wanted to make a new divider specifically for this

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bookshelfdreams · 6 months

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Hey I like a lot of the takes you have regarding the pirate show so I wanted to ask for your opinion on smth that's been bothering me for a while:

I have a deep seated dislike for Hamilton. Twinkifying the fucking founding fathers, romanticizing slave abusers and overall villainizing the wrong people while others (Hamilton at the front naturally) gets sung at. Speaking of singing - I really hate it. Shipping (i want to repeat) the founding fathers, the blatant white washing bla bla bla. Anyway those are all known problems and better people have said it smarter before and that isn't really my point

It's the fact that a friend of mine recently brought up that Ofmd pretty much is the same and I shouldn't scream so loud in my glass house. Inaccurate historically speaking, the blatant ignoring of the slave owning that the real Stede and Edward did and so on and so forth. Minus the singing perhaps if we ignore Frenchies and Izzys

So. Does it make me a hypocrite to like ofmd so much but despise the mere mention of Hamilton? It's a thing I'm really stressed about lately and that kind of ruined my joy about finally getting season 2. I would love to hear your opinion. or that of your followers for that matter.

Thank you 😊

oh thank YOU because I do feel that this is an interesting thing to examine and we do not talk about it enough.

I have never seen Hamilton, or listened to the songs (except some snippets). I have never been involved in the fandom. I really, really can't speak to what the musical itself did wrong and right. But I will say this: There was a reason it got as popular and received the critical acclaim that it did. I can't speak to how it addresses the systemic injustice baked into the USA from the very beginning, and I do have a suspicion that it glosses over a lot of uncomfortable truths. But I also feel it is important that we divorce the source material from the fandom it spawns because ultimately, Miranda isn't responsible for Hatsune Miku Binder Jefferson, or the whole hivliving debacle.

Just as David Jenkins isn't responsible for the handwaving of slavery in fanworks, or the great Izzy Hands Debate, or whitewashing in fanart, or shitty, racist headcanons of the characters of colour, or whatever deranged scandal is yet to come to light. This is true for all fandoms; criticizing fandom dynamics is a very different conversation from criticizing the canon.

Let's focus on the canon here, though, because defending the fandom is pointless, and not something I want to do. Curate your experience.

The first thing to say is: If you like ofmd but don't like Hamilton, that's not hypocritical at all, that's first and foremost a matter of taste. Things are good when we like them and bad when we don't. We don't have to find objective reasons for it.

If the fact that the historical Stede Bonnet was a slaveowner, and the historical Blackbeard also participated in the slave trade, are dealbreakers for someone, that's valid. People have every right to be uncomfortable with that. The conversation could end at this point, if we want it to (I don't because I love to hear myself talk).

If we look at the historical figures a little closer the first stark difference is the cultural context in which they exist. The founding fathers seem to be extremely mythologized in the american consciousness but also, are understood to be real historical people. The founding myth is fundamental to the way in which the USA perceives itself (that is, as a beacon of freedom and democracy), and it's pretty hard to reconcile that with the bloodshed and human misery it was founded on. It's uncomfortable; and it's not just an American problem. Every western nation/former colonial power has quite literal corpses in their closets they'd rather not talk about (just so you don't think I'm getting on a high horse about the famed Erinnerungskultur here; go ask a german person about Lothar von Trotha and what he did to the Nama and Herero to receive a blank stare). The difference is, that the founding fathers are too prominent and too important to just not talk about, so instead, they are sanitized to a degree that can be straight up historical revisionism.

That's not Miranda's fault. Nor is it the fault of any one particular piece of historical fiction, biography, documentary, or what have you. But it is the context in which Hamilton exists and, from what I understand, a culture to which it contributes. Especially since it's based on a biography of the real Alexander Hamilton, and (again, to my understanding) claims to tell a more or less accurate story.

Pirates, on the other hand, are perceived completely differently. They are mythologized, but not for ideological reasons, not as state-building propaganda. Pirates are more like folk heroes; cultural icons (near) completely divorced from whatever historical figure once lived. They are "real" in the sense that they are based on real people, but engaging with them, from the start, has a layer of removal from reality that engaging with figures like the founding fathers hasn't. Blackbeard is from a saga. George Washington is from history.

ofmd, specifically, makes clear at every turn that what we are told is a fictional story that has very little to do with any real events. It's openly anachronistic, it has absurd internal logic. Life-threatening injuries are walked off. There's actual magic. Dinghies are treated like spawn points in a video game. Everything, from the costumes to the vernacular to the story beats, tells the audience that none of this is real.

You wouldn't accuse, idk, A Knight's Tale, or Mel Brooks's Men In Tights of whitewashing history. I feel like ofmd plays in a similar league; it's a comedy very vaguely based on history, and it makes sure the audience knows we are not about to be told anything true. If you watch ofmd, you know this isn't about the real, historical Stede Bonnet or Edward Teach.

So. Let's examine the actual story, yes? The story that is told here is anticolonialist, antiracist, and challenges oppressive power structures as much as is possible for a production like this. It addresses these things and condemns them, both explicitly and in its underlying message. (I'm not gonna explain all of this, enough ink has been spilled about it by people smarter than me)

I do not know what Hamilton is about at its core. I know Our Flag Means Death is about authenticity in the face of the whole world telling you there's something wrong with you. It's about resisting dehumanization and reclaiming your personhood. It's about love, in a radical, system-destroying way, about breaking the cycle of abuse, about healing, and finding joy.

Yes, the real historical figures it's based on were all horrible people. Again, if that's a dealbreaker, that's fine. I'm not trying to convince anyone who is deeply uncomfortable with that fact; it's perfectly understandable.

However, for me, personally, the story as a whole is so far removed from reality, and so firm in its message, that I feel this is forgivable.

(Oh, and a lat aside, I also feel like likening ofmd to Hamilton seldom seems to come from a place of genuine criticism. Often it seems to be more along the lines of "Hamilton is cringe, and if I say ofmd=Hamilton ppl will be too embarrassed to defend it" which yk. feels kinda disingenuous to me.)

#oh also im a white european so yk limited perspective here #i do encourage people with different perspectives to join in the conversation!#or like link the things youve already written on this because i know people have talked about this before #i just kindly ask you to leave your 'ew cringe' arguments at the door. thanks.#our flag means death #anonymaus #message #thoughts

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