#and my brain won’t let me have my own truth sometimes

[deadwardianpoltergeist]

I keep seeing bigots being transphobic by saying it’s a delusion and I just. I know they’re just saying that because they demonize mental disorders and want to write off trans people as being nothing but their idea of people with mental disorders and I shouldn’t let it get to my head but. what happens if I am trans AND I experience delusions. at one point I was in fact delusional about my transness and convinced myself I was more of a boy than I actually was. Although, I must say, that delusion was founded on internalized transphobia and transmed shit, because I thought I had to overcompensate or I thought I wasn’t valid if I didn’t experience enough gender dysphoria, but still. I need that diagnosis one day so I can get the help I need but at the same time what happens when people use that to devalue the things I know about myself that ARE real, what happens when I’m pushed into becoming obsessive and delusional about one of the things I learned to not be obsessive and delusional about. I feel trapped. In every way in my life I feel trapped. At not even 15 years old. Every way I experience joy is wrong to people, I’m happy being platonic with people more than I enjoy being romantic, the way I experience my gender is “delusional,” and then I turn around and I get too fond of someone pretty platonically too fast and I get the delusion that I have a crush on them and I just. I can’t win.

I’ll even try to seek comfort in media and then even the way I enjoy media is “too extreme.”

I can’t even say half the shit that plagues me to anyone IRL either because I simply feel like I can’t. Like no one will get it, because they won’t and it feels like too much to put on someone who cares about me and every time I let myself vent to someone who says they’re there to listen I just feel more like an anomaly.

#idk what I’m going for posting this #vent #ig if you feel similarly let me know because I feel really alone rn #trans #it’s insane how delusions are either something insanely watered down or romanticized or they’re a reason why not to take someone seriously #no one seems to have any clue how distressing even mild delusions with insight can be and it’s so frustrating #but it’s terrifying to not know what’s real especially since I always feel the need to know things and know the truth #and my brain won’t let me have my own truth sometimes #transgender #tw vent #trans vent #actually delusional

[gtgbabie0]

Can I pls have "Look at me" with Carlos Oliveira or Leon Kennedy? Make it fluffy!

Ethereal Beauty

{Leon sometimes can’t believe you’re his}

Please sobbing! This man won’t leave my brain, Hope you enjoy my love!💕💕

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Leon doesn’t have a lot of people that he can truly confide in, pour his heart out to and cry, no one brings him a sound mind like you do, and no one makes him feel truly loved, flaws and all like you do.

And when he comes home from a mission you’re the one he seeks out, you and your love.

He’s not a religious man, but he swears up and down that you’re his angel sent straight from heaven, this wonderful being of ethereal beauty, that blesses his soul every day.

He worships your body, heart, and soul, and gives you all the love he possibly can in hopes that it’ll make up for everything you’ve done for him, but yet it still won’t be enough for the countless times you’ve lulled him back to sleep after a nightmare, stayed up with him, let him soak your shirts with his tears.

Leon finds himself taken back by you, how the sun sits so heavenly against your skin, making you glow, an angel, he thinks noticing the blemishes that adorn your face as he watches you turn the page of the book you’re reading, so completely wrapped up in a world of your own.

He watches the smile that teeters against your lips, you continue reading, a giggle bubbling out of your mouth, and gods, he thinks that sound could fix everything wrong with him and his tainted heart.

He feels so hopeless, he’s a broken man perhaps doomed from the beginning and you, well you’re perfect. How can he be with someone so perfect?

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, earning your attention as you look over at him, a loving look swims within his eyes, he hasn’t spoken much since he returned home, you give him time, give him space until he’s ready to speak.

You smile kindly placing your book down, eyes not meeting his, feeling suddenly bashful realizing he must have been watching you the entire time, “Thank you” you smile, eyes wondering everywhere but to him, and he knows you don’t quite believe his words.

“I mean it, you’re so gorgeous,” he says, his tone so promising that it fills you with love, but you still don’t look at him, you can’t his words too much for your bashful heart.

He moves closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb grazes the warm skin, “Hey, look at me, sweetheart” he whispers so quietly, words for only you to hear, and maybe he’s doing it to remind himself that he has you, you’re still here with him.

You slowly turn your head to meet his adoring gaze, his soft eyes that scan over your features, “Look at me” he prompts one more time and your eyes finally lock onto his, and he smiles, you’re here.

“You’re so fucking pretty sweetheart,” he says pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his hand still resting on your cheek and your body fits against his like puzzle pieces as you lose yourself in the warm kiss.

He pulls away, forehead resting against yours, “You mean the world to me” he whispers, lips grazing against yours, his words are truthful laced with a genuine tone, and your belly flutters with butterflies.

“I love you” your hand brushes his fringe away from his forehead.

“I love you more,” he says, and you don’t fight him on it this time, knowing that whatever happened on that mission must’ve gotten to him, so you let him empty his heart out, pouring all his love into you until he can’t anymore because god knows he’s got a lot of love to give you.

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#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil x you #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #re4 leon #resident evil fic #resident evil imagines #resident evil leon #resident evil 4

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

high infidelity | two

Put on your records and regret meeting me, I bent the truth too far tonight I was dancing around it *Noah’s POV* Damn, this girl was something else. I won’t ever admit it but I saw her and her friends before I even went on stage. During the show I was looking for my in-ears backstage and I saw her from the corner of my eye with her friends. I had to chuckle watching them dance around and sing every word during Dayseeker’s set. She stuck out amongst her friends though, her long jet black hair, bright red lips and golden skin really caught my attention…she had this glow about her that I couldn’t describe. When we came onto the stage I found her immediately and had a hard time keeping my eyes off her. Every time I walked past her, I kept noticing new things about her. She had a rose tattoo on her sternum, Roman numerals down the side of her neck and a full sleeve of butterflies and peonies on her right arm. I even made a conscious effort to sit near her during Who are you? and as soon as I saw her bright green eyes flash at me, it was game over. I knew I needed to meet her. Then I met her without even trying.

You can’t tell me that wasn’t fate even though it was super embarrassing she found me in the women’s bathroom. I thought I was in the clear since it was just my band and crew backstage but that was a terrible calculation. Also have you shared a bathroom with a bunch of other dudes? Sometimes you just need your own space and the women’s bathroom had a bigger shower. 

She really did have to use the bathroom so I gave her some privacy but I waited outside in the hall for her. Her scent of salted caramel and vanilla lingered under my nose and I couldn’t get enough. The guys and I were going to head to a brewery after the show and since Seattle wasn’t far we planned to travel there in the morning instead of overnight. This was our first time in Vancouver so we wanted to make the best of it. 

I texted our photographer Bryan about her before putting my phone back in my pocket. He was surprised at my actions considering that I never entertained women on the road, let alone a fan. Something was telling me she was different. I heard the hand dryer going in the bathroom before she opened the door. Her eyes widened as she saw me standing there. “So do you just hang out inside and outside women’s bathrooms?” “Yeah, I was told if I got caught again it would be my third strike.” She laughed and had a huge smile on her face. Fuck, even her smile was gorgeous. She flashed me her green eyes again and I could’ve melted at her feet. God what was she doing to me…

“Sorry, I hope this isn’t too forward, but me and the guys are heading to this brewery down the road. Do you want to come?” “Sure. I’ll just text my friends, they’re back here somewhere.” She replies as she pulls her phone out. I catch myself watching her every move. Her nails were painted a dark maroon and she had the hidden leaf village symbol from Naruto tattooed on her thumb. I smirked, not what I was expecting us to have in common. “I just realized I never caught your name.” I managed to get out. Her eyes find mine and suddenly I’m putty in her hands. “Elliot, but you can call me El.” Why was that suddenly the most beautiful name I have ever heard? *Elliots POV* 

Before I knew it we were all sitting at a large table at this cozy brewery having drinks with Bad Omens and their crew. My brain couldn’t process what was going on at all. The boys seemed to have picked one of my friends to talk to and we were hitting it off really well. Noah went up to order some beers for us, I offered him my credit card but he said this round was on him. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him as he walked back to me. “I really couldn’t decide what to get so I got some of those beer flight things to try everything.” He smirked as he sat beside me. His leg brushed against mine and blood rushed to my cheeks again. “That works for me.” I shrugged. “Everything here is really good.” Noah crosses his arms on the table and brings his gaze to me. Those beautiful brown eyes were causing me to go into a spiral. The brewery was so loud but damn, when he looked at me it got quiet. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only one in the room. I was trying so damn hard to not get caught up in it because I didn’t know who he really was. For all I know he could do this every night when he was on tour. I also wanted to live in the delusion that I was the first girl he ever asked out after a show. Get a grip, Elliot. “Do you come here much?” He asked breaking the silence and snapping me back into reality. “I’ve been here a few times, but there’s just so much to choose from living here.” “Do you have a favourite?” “Yeah I do. There’s actually a bar in my neighbourhood I go to a lot. It’s actually a wine bar where they make their own wines, they have the comfiest couches and the best charcuterie boards.” “Sounds like my kind of place.”

Our drinks come to the table and he immediately wrapped his hands around the darkest beer we got. I grabbed one of the lighter looking beers and look a sip of it before we swapped to try each others. Both of our faces scrunched up in disgust before we immediately switched glasses again. I studied the tattoos on his hands as he grabbed the cold glass from me, noticing the heart he had on one of his fingers. I forgot what we were talking about…

“I really like Vancouver so far.” He continued. “It’s like Seattle but the people are way nicer.” “Canada is definitely the superior country.” I chuckled.

He raised his eyebrow at me before moving onto the next beer, “Well, I am looking for a new home base.”

“Not loving California anymore?” “It’s not that I don’t like it…” He pauses to take a sip of his beer. “I’ve always wanted to live in the Pacific northwest area. The weather is more to my liking and people seem to leave us alone. I really like my privacy and people in LA are starting to recognize us more and more. I know it comes with the territory but after quarantine I realized how important it is to have a home base where you can be yourself.” “I get that.” I replied. “Every one deserves to have a safe space to come home to every night.” “Do you have that?”

“I’m working on it.” I muttered, knowing my home life was in absolute shambles. The more drinks we had the more comfortable we got with each other, not like we needed that much liquid courage though. We talked like old lovers picking up where we left off and I admired how respectful he was being towards me. I put my hand over his by accident but he didn’t seem to mind, he just squeezed my hand with a Cheshire Cat smile on his face. I noticed he had the same Naruto tattoo on his hand that I had and we ended up having a long conversation about the anime. We oddly seemed to have the same opinions on it and he showed me a photo of his thigh tattoo of Itachi he recently got. A few moments later I excused myself to the bathroom to gain my composure. I pulled out my phone and found my lawyers number. It was time. “I’m ready.” “Come see me tomorrow…I’m so proud of you for finally doing this, Ellie.” I took a few more breaths before walking back towards our table. I sat beside Noah and his cheeks were getting rosy, it was beyond adorable. His hand grazed over my thighs as he reached for my hand again. Euphoria filled my body and didn’t want it to stop, I didn’t want him to stop touching me. “Do you want to get out of here?” Noah whispered in my ear. “Wow you move fast.” I joked as I pushed his hair out of his face, almost pouting because his hair was so much shorter now. Still, it gave him a Disney prince kind of vibe that I adored. “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just wondering if you wanted to go for a walk or go somewhere more quiet.”

“A walk at this time of night? Are you going to murder me, Noah?” “Oh god no - I was - I -um-“ He was stuttering over his words and I couldn’t help but laugh. He was getting more embarrassed and covered his face with his hands. “I’m kidding Noah.” I reassured him by moving his hands away from his face, “there’s another bar I like we can go to. It’s attached to the Hyatt down the street.” “That’s our hotel.” He smirked before finishing off his beer. We got up from the table and said our goodbyes to our friends. Danielle shot me a look and I just shrugged my shoulders at her cause I had no idea what I was doing. We got outside and started to walk towards his hotel slowly, we didn’t say much but he reached for my hand and I grabbed his with no hesitation. After seeing his bands reaction to us leaving together, it definitely told me he didn’t do this very often. This started to feel genuine and I knew I had to tell him the truth. Noah’s POV She was such a calculated risk and I knew that. Honestly, I wasn’t really one to find a girl at our show and try to take her home. Most of the guys would invite some of our female fans to chill with us but I wasn’t interested. All these girls just wanted to be with us because of who we were. Sure, Elliot knew who we were but after spending time with her she made me feel like she saw past the bullshit and saw me as just Noah. She stopped halfway up the stairs to our hotel and her energy had shifted as she dropped my hand. Her green eyes deepened as she looked up at me, causing my heart dropped into my stomach. “Noah, I need to tell you something.”  “You can tell me anything.” I partially lied because I didn’t want to know what was next. “I’m in the process of getting divorced.” She bit her lip and looked down at her feet. “I wanted to tell you sooner but...” Go figure, the first women I’ve fallen for in years was still married. “What?” I could feel my voice trembling. I looked at her and I see tears forming in her eyes. I knew this wasn’t an easy thing for her to tell me, but I couldn’t fight off the anger that was boiling inside of me. “So you wanted to see where this was gonna go before dropping a bomb like that? “Noah…Please.” A few tears fell down her face as she looked at me. “Can you blame me? You’re in a fucking band! How the fuck was I supposed to know you don’t take a girl home every night?” “So this is my fucking fault then? You assumed I just fuck my way though my tours?” “NO!” She yelled at me causing a few people to look at us. “No…” She repeated, this time in a whisper. I could feel my own tears forming as I felt myself losing her before I even had her. She looked in the opposite direction of me and I could see her mascara starting to run down her face. I wanted to desperately wipe it away but my heart was telling me to walk away and forget about her. I swore off love years ago and I should’ve kept it that way. “Good night Elliot.”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #fanfic

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

🌵📚🦋 please <3

Hi Michelle! Thank you!! (Writer’s Truth or Dare Ask Game)

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

Okay so I won’t be linking to my playlists bc I don’t want to share my full name on a post for everybody to see and connect to my blog hehe but! I am quite fond of my playlists, so what I will do is share 5 songs from my recently most listened to playlists!

Travel Rhythms:

Cruisin’ by Smokey Robinson

On the Road Again by Canned Heat

Ship of Fools by The Doors (as I’ve probably mentioned too many times my recent travels was mainly on a sailing boat so I thought I was being quite funny with this one lol)

Me and Bobby McGee by Janis Joplin

California Soul by Marlena Shaw

Calm Playlist (overlaps by a Playlisr directly translated to ‘Calm and Yoga Without Sadness lol and Calm Travel Rhythms):

Kathy’s Song by Eva Cassidy

Myth by Beach House

Manhattan by Cat Power

Boxing Day Blues by Courtney Barnett

VCR by The XX

Dancing Playlist 🕺

Ain’t Nobody by Chaka Khan

Somebody Else’s Guy by Jocelyn Brown

Strong Enough by Cher

The Rhythm of the Night by Corona

You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) by Sylvester

Relight My Fire by Dan Hartman

Psycho Killer by Talking Heads

It’s Raining Men by The Weather Girls

American Boy by Estelle

We Are Family by The Sister Sledge

What a Diff’rence a Day Makes by Esther Phillips

Family Affair by Mary J. Blige

.. Oops I kept going 🫣 I miss dancing, I have not done it enough in the last yeah so I got lost in my playlist heheh

Ahahahha that was not a correct answer to this question but those are all features in my playlists so if you added them all together I guess you’d have one playlist with very mixed moods lol

Also sorry to go overboard, I was the kid whose friends never let me be the one to control the music so when I get the chance to share from my playlists…

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

I’ve opened and moved my notes around today and I was up too late last night so I’m actually not sure which was the last so here are 3 options:

1) That @lemonlyman-dotcom’s fic Love Of My Life ..Pain In My Ass! Should go in the not yet established Hall Of Fame of TK Strand Shenanigan/TK being the greatest adventure of Carlos’ life - centered fics!

And 2) quotes from @strandnreyes’s new fic all is not lost as well as that Jen is the true master of Married Tarlos Fics Now Turned Canon

- both in preparation of forming coherent ways of drizzling them with the love I feel for them in the comments, which I struggle with due to a brain that is 90% air moving around sometimes when I try to concentrate

(For Jen and Lemon, even though I don’t have that much reach in the fandom, links and mentions are intended to function as fic and author recs and not ways to get your attention btw🫣🫣)

And 3) the sentence “I’m gonna come” from a fic I’m working on that was supposed to be crack but has turned into mostly filth, introspection, sexual headcanons and a smidge of angst 🙃🙃

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

Soo many things!!

1) I need me a place to live in the city that I’m supposed to resume my studies in, in the fall - and I need to not live with my parents anymore, as I’ve been doing temporarily between travels to not have an empty studio to pay rent to, even though I love them.. I need my young-person independent life back!! I need alone time, to go out dancing, have my own structure, and to start dating again lol.

2) my friends are sailing their boat home from Florida and they need help and I want to so badly, but everything in my life is so unset so I can’t make a decision.. also I can’t find out if I’m too afraid to cross the Atlantic Ocean in a 51 foot sailing boat 🫣🌊 They’re departing on the 27th so I’m feeling the pressure of needing to make a decision.

3) Fandom has been a lot on my mind lately! Though fandom has been part of my life for many many years, I have been mostly lurking until some few years ago. But even then, I have switched from one fandom that sort of dwindled over to LS, and getting into that has been interrupted by Life and Studies and Travels. It means a lot to me to enter into fandom and make it part of my life and free time to actually spend time on that interest, and create and interact bc I really love it. But it being kind of new also means I haven’t found the right balance yet (it doesn’t help that I’m living at my parents’ and are not fully able to structure my own time or have quiet alone time other than late at night) and I’m still treading carefully and overthinking a bit about how to interact and what are the lingo and unspoken rules and how does the making friends and so on work bc I don’t have a lot of experience with internet relations. In real life I usually find people and over share with them and then they over share with me and then we know each other and how to be and you can read from tone or face if you’re stepping over some line or pushing some wrong button and you can talk about it without having to make it a big thing by basically sending an email with an ‘Am I being annoying’ hehehe🙃

I loove fandom, this one in particular ! - not only are you all so talented but I’ve fallen into this bubble of incredibly nice and funny and level-headed people and Tarlos + all the other characters and all the rep (nuanced queer characters arghhgr) and love (canon soulmates arggshg) and sexiness and silliness gives me so much joy so that’s mostly why it’s on my mind, but definitely the learning to navigate both within fandom and in relation to Life is a big part of it!

Thank you again Michelle lol if you even made it this far, SORRY I can not be short and concise, it has turned out to be impossible.:) happy whatever day it is where you are! (Here it just turned Wednesday)☺️🌼

#ask games #Michelle asks #mar answers #my music #Mar rambles #mar rambles about Mar #fic recs #author recs #mar writes something

[peachesvanilla]

Kisses #1

pairing: Jongin x reader

genres: pure fluff(this close to crying while writing... been months since I am satisfied with my fluff writing..MONTHS), friends to lovers

inspiration: Jongin and list of kisses I found on pinterest.

Jongin is a ray of sunshine. This sentence falls short before his warmth embrace, beaming grin, shiny eyes and lively aura. Like the sun rarely appearing in winter, gravitating every human to animal, to be under his rays, Jongin grabs everyone’s attention as he struts in the college campus. 

And I, a weakling just like everyone else, finds my steps leading towards him. Trying to snatch a piece of his attention, bask in his presence and have my own epiphany. The worst thing about having him as a friend is staying stuck in that position for a long long time. 

Sometimes in the middle of the night when our phone conversations turn deep, sharing our innermost conflicts and pains I wonder if we weren’t grouped for a project would it be any different? Would he have seen me as a girl instead of his friend who needs help in everything? Would I be in the mainstream rather than a sideline?

“Where are you lost?” Jongin snaps his fingers at my face breaking me out of my thoughts, more like obsession. “Lost in that pretty mind of yours?” His brown eyes shine under the direct stream of sunlight, bringing out the honey shade and oozing out the warmth. Dressed in a hoodie, his hair a mess from constantly pulling up the hoodie cap and removing it, his familiar perfume makes it hard not to fall for him a little harder everyday. 

“Nothing.” I push his hand off my face, slowly reeling my chair little by little away from his. “Thinking about the assignment.”

He nods understandingly, folding his arms across his chest. The movement brings out the firmness of his chest, broadness of it and the many nights I spent wondering how it would be laying on his chest.

“It's a difficult one.” He ponders, zoning off into the high walls of the library. “Maybe our procedure is wrong and we have to tackle it using a different method?” 

“Yeah.” I don’t even remember the question but whatever gets him off me helps. One thing about knowing Jongin for so long is, he won’t let go until I dish out all of my worries that are disturbing my peace. I had to come up with a hundred lies to just cover my one truth. That is, I am slowly falling in love with him. “Maybe.”

He rests his arm on the back of my seat, rolling me towards him. “I don’t feel like studying.” He mumbles, his face a few inches away from mine as he looms over me. “Can we go out?” His eyes run across my face with hope. “Please?”

My cold heart comes alive, beating louder, faster. He is so close, his lips just a breath away. What if I lean in and get a taste of the forbidden lips. Is the pain worth the taste? My heart whispers a yes, while my mind is hyperventilating on how he isn’t interested in me as a lover and just sees me as one of his boys. Having him around is far better than getting shut by a mere kiss.

But the heart screams yes when his eyes dip to my lips for a fraction of a second. Almost as if it never happened. I lean in, pressing my lips onto his soft, full lips. My heart leaps out of my chest, my fingers curl into fists on my lap and my brain is void of any thoughts. His lips are more than what I thought of, softer than a baby skin and bringing the storm and peace at once. 

I move back from his lips, his taste lingering on mine and I pick up the courage to look at his face. His eyes are closed, his breathing uneven, lips shiny from my lip balm and parted. Slowly he opens his eyes, watching me intently. I wait for him to leave with a disappointed look and saying he didn’t expect this from me. His eyes trail to my cheeks, the strand of hair falling on my face and then pauses on my lips for a long time. His arm around my chair drags me closer to him, my knee pressing into his thigh, and another arm hesitantly lying on top of my thigh. 

He sucks in a breath and leans in, kissing me. I gasp, this can’t be happening. Does he.. does he see me as a girl? He presses his lips harder, his eyebrows scrunched in the middle, eyes closed. I arch to his height, sitting straighter in greed to get more of him. His hand holds my neck as he moves his lips in a slow rhythm. He grips my thigh, leaning in, sucking my lower lip and holding me in place holding my neck. The moment prolongs for a minute, I press his hand and he breaks the kiss, letting me breathe. 

He brushes his nose against mine, watching my expression. A slow shy smile spreads across his lips, he rubs his thumb over my heated cheeks. Pecking my lips one more time, he leans back in his chair spreading his arms and throws back his head grinning. “Shit.” 

What should I do now? Talk about it or go about it as if the kiss never happened? But his swollen lips and shine on it tells another story. How can I pretend when—

“Let’s go.” He packs his bag and also mine within seconds, holding out his hand for me. 

I hold his hand, his hand completely engulfing mine. My steps falter, hair on my neck standing. Every single student’s eyes are on us. My heart drops to my stomach, he is Jongin of course everyone’s attention will be on him but the amount of hate, jealousy and smirks we are receiving is overwhelming. 

He grips on my hand, “what do you want to eat?” 

“Anything is good with me.” I reply, wanting to get out of here as soon as I can. 

“Okay.” He swings our intertwined hands and hums through our entire walk and even till reaching the fast food center. And his beaming smile? It never fades, instead it got brighter.

#kai #kim jongin #kai x reader #jongin x reader #kai fluff #jongin fluff #kai imagines #kai fanfic #jongin fanfic #exo drabble #exo fanfic

[twinanimatronics]

Your fic (and Lofi, of course) has some of the strongest dedication to canon adherence I've ever seen in a DA fic, yet still manages to tell a wonderful new story within those bounds. That makes me curious though- how do you feel about other fics, which generally don't stick as close to the canon? Or fics that throw the entire canon out the window and do whatever they want?

Chejcjejd

Thank you >////< I take that as a compliment and confirmation that I’m doing a good job of fitting all the puzzle pieces we as the fandom have been given together.

Like, this is just mostly really specific to me cause of where my little ADHD/Autistic brain lands on the spectrum—

I’m extremely detail oriented and really get into my research when I hyper-fixate. But I feel my Master Doc for the Daycare Attendant kinda already made that obvious XD

Literally me:

Also—

I and @dana-chan-the-control-brain—my partner in crime for years now—just REALLY love the challenge of theorizing and story crafting within the limitations of what happened in canon.

It’s fun and it lets us use our overthinking tendencies to do something creative instead of stressing over irl stuff.

We will slightly change things to incorporate any new lore as it’s found out/revealed (like it being canonically 2035 in Security Breach) so that it’ll still all perfectly fit with the narrative we want to tell without changing the core elements of either.

Like, without going into spoilers, the canonical year made us have a deep plotting debate session for things planned but not revealed yet that would need adjusting.

And I won’t lie, sometimes I can be really aggravating with trying to get things to fit and make sense XD.

But we eventually came to a revelation/decision, with some helpful input from @witchysolfan, that made everything work out to our advantage.

Also, also—

Security Breach actually allows for a lot more wiggle room than you’d think because of the fact it has multiple endings.

All the endings are canon to their own contained timelines, even if the TRUE Ending is the Afton one. It’s just a matter of picking one to follow.

And if you DON’T pick a canon Security Breach ending or decide to say none of it happened and forgo canon all together, that in itself is ALSO technically canon.

Cause Scott has confirmed that the different iterations of the FNaF story he’s presented through the games and books are all their own contained realities.

The books are “What if?“ scenarios involving if one, or two, or more things were changed and give hints for what happened in the main timeline: the game timeline.

Everything happened and even things that canonically DIDN’T still exist in another timeline as games or books as made-up stories (Or NOT made up stories that they’re TRYING to pass as fake as we saw in Help Wanted).

Like—

Let’s take the Sun and Moon lore leaked from Books #3 and #4 of Tales From the Pizzaplex for this.

@thatmooncake @pixelchills @ ing you guys for this part cause I think you might be interested in this take.

The books say that Sun and Moon were a repurposed theater animatronic and that Moon is sort of a glitch/virus that was always evil.

The books also say the generators were put in place cause of power-fluctuations to keep Moon at bay from the beginning of the daycare’s run.

Now.

This may be true for THAT timeline. But there are a lot of elements that can apply and change to make this fit anyone’s fic if they really want to include as many elements as they can (like me)

Moon being a glitch/always evil and a problem as the character who reveals this info says is a LIE.

Because what is Fazbear Entertainment REALLY good at?

Coverups.

Hiding the truth.

Because this fucking building as of the second Tales book is confirmed to be built on top of the corpses of 11 construction workers and 8 teenagers that snuck onto the construction site/.

There’s potential this dude is LYING that Moon was always a problem or a glitch. Moon could have easily been fine and really sweet and gentle with the kids when not playing around with them pretending to be an evil gremlin.

They also may have never served as performance animatronics and were always a daycare attendant from the beginning.

Their appearance and night and day concept was potentially intended for the theater. But maybe during their production things were changed, the previous daycare attendant animatronic (Foxy) needed to be replace and their AI reprogrammed even before they were first turned on.

Maybe Moon ISN’T a glitch and was preprogrammed in like Sun from the beginning and they’re just telling their staff that he’s just a glitch or virus that’s been quarantined so no one looks too deeply into his source coding. Otherwise they would see he was not only programmed to fill the role of watching over sleeping children, but was also intended to be “corrupted” (locked in “Evil”TM mode) and used to abduct these same children.

Or maybe he IS a glitch and the result of Sun’s programing splitting into two AI. But not a bad glitch. Not from the beginning. And they just decided to take advantage of and run with this.

If Moon was never intended, why is he everywhere?

Why would FazFuck Entertainment promote him as much if they were really trying to bury and forget about him?

Why HAVEN’T they tried to erase him from nearly every location of the Pizzaplex like they have with Bonnie?

There are so many possibilities and explanations. And all can be canon just as much as the initial claim in the books.

It can be true. It can be a lie. Or it can be a half truth.

And that’s just about Moon. I didn’t even touch when the generators were really installed yet.

Anyway, I rambled on a lot XD

I hope this answered your question.

#fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's security breach #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf sb #the daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf sun and moon #headcanons

[zirawrites]

How would Romanced!Companions react to a Synth version of Sole's spouse coming back?

Cait: “You’re not considering replacing me with a robot, are ya?” Cait asked as if it was an obvious joke. Sole would clasp her shoulder and reassure her that no one could ever take her place. But instead, Sole looked at their feet in shame. “He’s/She’s a synth, for fuck’s sake! I’m a real person!” She shoved Sole. Tears stung her eyes. Cait could hardly speak when she added, “I love you, Sole. This thing does not.”

Curie: “I understand the plight of synths as well as any of us. But Sole... this person is not Nate/Nora. Surely they know this?” Curie listened patiently as Sole explained how their spouse’s synth had memories of their marriage and Shaun. Hell, they even remembered when the bombs fell. “If you must help them navigate these feelings, I support you, my love. I just need reassurance that throughout this journey you remember our own special bond.”

Danse: “That is... disturbing.” Danse understood exactly what it was like to have memories that weren’t your own. A voice sounding like someone else. A body that was created to house a different soul. His veins iced with terror when he thought of what memories Nate/Nora held of Sole. And if that changed his relationship with them. “What are you going to do?” The question made Danse’s belly heavy as lead. He almost didn’t want to know their answer, but ultimately it was Sole’s choice.

Deacon: Deacon sometimes wondered what he’d do if another synth of Barbara came back. He knew she wouldn’t be the original, but the Institute would’ve probably loaded her brain with memories of their marriage and lazy days on the farm and dreams of starting a family. Maybe even darker ones, such as her murder. He truly felt for what Nate’s/Nora’s synth was enduring. Hell, he could only imagine what was going through Sole’s own head. The spy just had one question, and he asked it as he stroked the back of Sole’s neck with a tender touch. “Will you choose me?” Deacon didn’t have it in him to admit to Sole that he’d choose them over Barbara every time. Even the real Barbara. He was afraid Sole would think he was lying.

Hancock: “Does he/she have everything he/she needs?” Hancock knew how dangerous the Commonwealth was for a newborn synth. Their occasional memory lapses and self-doubt made for unsavory scams and itchy trigger fingers. He would worry about any jealousy he harbored after he made sure Nate/Nora and Sole were safe. “Tell them to come to Goodneighbor. Hell, I’ll even bring them home myself.” Sole tried to search Hancock’s eyes for any lingering feelings, but the ghoul stayed stoic and calm. “I know we’re thick as thieves, Sunshine. I ain’t about to let anyone fuck with what we got.”

MacCready: MacCready used to have nightmares about Lucy when he and Sole first got together. He dreamt that she found them asleep in bed; his muscled arm slung over Sole’s body like a security blanket. Even after he woke up, MacCready could still hear Lucy’s soft crying in the birds chirping outside his window or water running as Sole drew a bath. Moving on from Lucy sometimes felt like betrayal. But now Sole didn’t have to move on from Nate/Nora, and he wasn’t sure where that left him. “I’m, um, happy for you. But, I mean...” MacCready anxiously scratched the back of his neck. “Where does that leave us, Sole? Are you gonna leave me for a synth?” Because the truth was, MacCready would never leave Sole for Lucy’s ghost no matter how badly she haunted him.

Preston: “The Institute will really stop at nothing to get you back.” Preston was sure this was the boogeymen’s last attempt at stealing Sole from the Minutemen. Yet underneath his initial anger, there was worry. He wasn’t sure if Sole still loved their spouse enough to leave him for their imitation. “Promise me you won’t fall for it, babe. This has to be a trap.”

Piper: “You know they’re not really your spouse, right?” Piper was terrified at the prospect of Sole’s husband/wife returning. She had no idea if Sole would leave her for them. And if Sole did, Piper worried it meant she’d been a placeholder all along. “They’ll walk and talk like Nate/Nora, but it isn’t them. I’m really me, Blue. Just... remember that when you’re with them.”

Nick: Nick was extremely sensitive to Sole’s feelings when Nate/Nora returned, albeit as a synth. Sole had already been through so much, and he was worried this would rekindle their grief. “Anything you need, just let me know.” He knew Sole wouldn’t leave him. His partner just needed space and understanding.

X6-88: X6 was furious at Father for bringing back Sole’s spouse. Everyone in the Institute knew how close he had gotten to Sole, and he worried their relationship would be thrown away to this... lesser synth. “Be wise about this, Sole. They aren’t who they think they are. That’s the entire point of rogue synths.”

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 reactions #why were deacon's and maccready's so edgy i apologize #i've always wanted to write a fic about this #fallout 4 deacon #maccready #nick valentine #fallout 4 piper #fallout 4 cait #curie fallout 4 #x6-88 #preston garvey #paladin danse #hancock

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Real and Otherworldly Monsters Exist

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Byers!Reader

Genre: follows show plot lines, but will diverge from canon.

WC: 12.2K (I don’t know how)

Warnings: cursing, slut shaming, homophobia, that whole scene from ep6

Summary: Guess we’re going monster hunting, but sometimes interdimensional monsters aren’t the only ones lurking around dark corners.

A/N: I would like to state that all grammer misktakes are on me and my computer, just two brain cells fighting each other. also i do all the proof reading and so that means i might not notice all mistakes so please forgive me. also if you didn’t get the notification that i posted, your user for some reason wasn’t found by tumblr. idk.

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You didn’t want to be around or talk with Lonnie when he walked into the destroyed living room so you just left and went to your room, locking it and waiting for Jonathan to arrive home. You know why Lonnie’s here. He’s here to try and manipulate Joyce in her fragile state, something he’s very good at on just a normal Monday afternoon. If you had the energy you would make sure he keeps his distance, but you’re so tired after today's events and having been interrupted from that fantasy dream, you just wished to sleep again.

You could faintly hear a commotion coming from the other side of your door meaning Jonathan probably arrived home now and saw Lonnie, oh, and the hole in the living room that Joyce made with an ax because you both saw Will on the other side crying out for the both of you. You unlocked your door and walked into the hallway hearing Jonathan talking and just as you rounded the corner, he and Lonnie were walking into the hall almost running into you. You looked between the two and then you looked at Jonathan like you were waiting for his next command.

“Can you stay with mom?”

You just nodded your head and walked to the couch and sat beside her. She threw one side of the blanket that was covering her over your shoulder and pulled you in tight beside her. You felt like the chasm that was forming between the both of you was slowly closing and becoming more of a crack in the sidewalk, you now understood what the other was seeing and had your common goal; get Will from wherever the hell he is right now. You were both just holding onto each other now, just wanting to make sure the other was feeling safe.

“Why don’t you head to bed honey?”

You looked up at Joyce and you could see the dark circles under her eyes. Her cheeks were still a bit sunken in and she was still looking pale, but there was hope swirling in her eyes.

“I don’t want to leave you alone, especially with Lonnie here.”

She gave a quiet breathy laugh and just rubbed the hand thrown over your shoulder on your upper arm giving you friction of heat.

“It’s okay honey. We have the funeral tomorrow though.”

You furrowed your brows at her reply. The both of you know Will isn’t dead now. That body wasn’t his, why were you still going to have a funeral for a fake Will?

“But that’s now Will.”

“I know honey, but other people won’t believe us.”

That last part made your heart crack a bit. She was right. When she started to ramble about Will still being alive, you and Jonathan didn’t believe her, hell you shouted at her because you thought she was just making up an excuse for her mental stability. But you knew the truth now and you were looking through the same lens as her now, you were seeing something that shouldn’t exist.

So you just nodded your head as an okay and went to bed.

The next morning was somber. The air was still and not a bird chirping in hearing distance. The house was extra cool this morning due to the hole in the wall letting in the November weather. All of you were just shuffling through the house doing your own task. Jonathan was making a small breakfast for the four of you, even though you haven’t felt like eating anything for the past few days. Lonnie was doing something in the house, you didn’t care what he was up to. Joyce was sitting in Will’s room again holding one of his sweaters between her fingers.

You knocked lightly on the crack-open door and peeked your head inside. Joyce looked up at the noise and gave you a tight-lipped smile then patted the spot next to her. The both of you were already dressed in your funeral attire along with your hair neatly styled compared to your appearances from the last few days. You looked to Joyce and saw she was just looking around Will’s room, everything the same, except all the lamps were now out. You could see she was starting to get emotional again so you grabbed one of her hands and linked your fingers together.

“We’re gonna get him back, no matter what.”

You looked at her and saw she was just staring at you. She moved to tuck a stray strand of hair that fell out of its loose styling and pushed it behind your ear. She glided her hand from behind your ear to along your jaw stopping at your chin. A watery smile was appearing on her face and if she started to get emotional you were gonna get emotional and you can’t have that this early in the morning before your fake dead brother's funeral.

“Mom-”

“You are the best daughter I could ever have, you know that?”

Now the waterworks were unstoppable. You know Joyce loves you with her whole heart, loves all of you with her while being, but hearing her say it out loud just makes it even more meaningful to you. She wants you to know that she’ll love you no matter what you say or do, whether you’re yelling at her out of frustration, crying in her arms because of your shitty father, or even shutting her out when you couldn’t handle the world outside your private bedroom. She will be there for you and love you every step of the way.

“I love you, mom.”

“I love you too honey.”

…

There were a lot of people at the funeral.You didn’t expect this many people, mostly because you didn’t interact with most of them. Well, it was a small town so quite a few people would show up and pay their respect to your family, mostly Joyce since there were a bunch of families she knew. There were only a handful of people you recognized in the crowd. Mr. Clarke, Will’s science teacher, he looked up to him. Then you saw the Wheeler’s, the Henderson’s, and the Sinclair’s.

Everyone was holding a yellow flower, probably were gonna throw it on top of the casket. The four of you were seated at the front of the crowd. Everyone just watching your every emotion, how you held yourself today, probably looking for a flaw in your mask to gossip about later when the buzz has died down. You sat between Jonathan and Joyce, not wanting to even feel Lonnie’s breath in your direction. You just stared ahead in front of you, letting the priest say his words to the standing crowd. You didn’t care what he had to say, Will wasn’t dead and he wasn’t in the casket before you. 

The world was starting to blur out and the noises were slowly becoming static when you felt a shake to your shoulder. You snapped out of your daze and looked to Jonathan who was still sitting beside you without Joyce or Lonnie around. You looked around you and saw the crowd was thinning out, it was done. People were saying their condolences to Lonnie and Joyce just stood by with her arms crossed.

“You okay?”

You looked back at Jonathan and saw that concerned look in his eyes again. You weren’t sure if you should say something about yesterday, not knowing if he would believe like the both of you didn’t believe Joyce, but you had to.

“I saw him.”

“Who?” “Will.” 

Jonathan kept looking at you, his hand free from your shoulder. He looked away from you for a moment looking through the crowd like he was looking for someone. You followed his gaze and saw he was looking at Nancy who happened to be looking at the both of you and gave a little wave. Jonathan then looked back at you and you doing the same. He darted his tongue out and wetted his lips and then spoke.

“I believe you.”

Well, you weren’t expecting that statement today. You were taken aback for a moment and then you shook the shock off and looked back to him with a confused look gracing your features.

“What?”

“I have to show you something.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet and walked the both of you away from the departing crowd and a bit further into the cemetery. You saw Nancy standing by a small metal fence surrounding a dead tree. She locked eyes on your approaching figures and gave another little wave. You saw Jonathan give her a small wave back in reply out of the corner of your eye. You developed a small smirk on your face before you spoke out.

“Since when are you and Nancy so close?” 

Jonathan just scoffed at your accusation and told you to shut up, playfully of course.You weren’t exactly sure what was happening, all you know is Jonathan believes you saw Will and he didn’t make you feel crazy. Now you don’t know what Nancy knows, but it had to be something involved with this weird situation, otherwise, why would Jonathan and she be interacting especially after the photograph incident?

Jonathan and Nancy both turned to you and you felt their intense stares boring through you, it made you squirm a bit. Jonathan then pulled out a piece of folded paper, unfolding it and holding it out for you to grab. You just looked between the two of them before slowly reaching for the paper. What you saw printed out in front of you made a chill run up your spine. It wasn’t too clear of an image, but just from what you can make out, you can tell this thing wasn’t human.

“What is this?” you looked up to Jonathan and Nancy for an answer.

Jonathan spoke up first, “remember what mom was telling Hopper that night we called him. Saying she saw something in the wall. That it was almost human but had no face. We think this is the thing from the wall.”

You looked to Nancy, “how do you know about this?”

She looked a bit taken aback at your question but gave you an answer, “the ripped pieces I took the other day. Noticed something weird in a photograph of Barb.”

You just gave a small nod. You decided if they showed you this then you can tell them what you saw. You handed the photo back to Jonathan who took it and folded it back into his pocket. You shoved your hands into your coat pockets and rolled on the balls of your feet.

“I’m going to tell you something and you have to believe it.”

They just both gave a head nod as a yes. You breathed out, watched the cold air puff around you for a moment, and then looked at them.

“When I got home last night, mom was running in and out of the house. She shouted to Will, telling him she was there, trying to locate his voice. When I went inside and tried to snap her out of the daze she drove herself into, I saw something. She peeled back the living room wallpaper on the wall she saw the monster in and there was this hole. It was almost skin-like with veins and light breathing motion to it, but it was transparent, you could just barely see into the other side. But I saw him, I saw Will. He was pounding against the weird surface and was calling out for mom and then me when he saw I was behind her. We kept calling out to him trying to understand where he was. Mom kept clawing at the hole trying to rip it open, but it was no use. As Will was calling out and we were yelling back to him I could hear this growl, this animalistic growl not too far from him. It was like he was being hunted down. When it was getting closer we told him to run and hide. Then the hole began to close up like it was never there in the first place. And that’s why there’s a giant opening in the living room.”

The light breeze was your only reply to everything you just spilled to the two people standing before you. You chose to sit on the ground and lean against the metal fence as you waited for an actual vocal reply. Jonathan and Nancy joined you on both sides and then Jonathan pulled another piece of paper from a different pocket. It was a white piece of paper with some general area of Hawkins mapped with three red x’s marking spots.

“These are the areas we know for sure the monster has been.”

“This x marks Steve’s house where Barb was last seen,” Nancy said while pointing to a specific x.

Jonathan then pointed at the other two, “this one is the woods where Will’s bike was found and this one is the house.”

“They’re all in close distance.”

“Yeah. Exactly, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s… it’s not traveling far.”

“Well, now I feel even less safe at home,” you murmured.

You looked between Nancy and Jonathan and saw they were sharing some type of knowing look between their eyes. You kept looking back and forth before it clicked in your head.

“No. You want to go out there?”

Their silence was the only answer you needed. You scoffed at their crazy idea.

“We might find nothing,” Jonathan tried to reason.

“I found something,” Nancy spoke out.

“Not helping your case here.”

The three of you just sat in silence trying to work this stupid plan out in your heads. You then spoke up, drawing their eyes.

“Okay, say you find something…then what?”

You looked at both of them. They probably didn’t think about that part. Jonathan sighed out next to you and said, “we kill it.”

You sighed out and made a show of throwing your hands into the air before dropping them onto your head. You didn’t want to face a monster, you were already dealing with real-life monsters, and you didn’t want to add ‘otherworldly’ monsters to that list.

“How do you plan on killing it?” Nancy asked Jonathan.

He was quiet for a moment and then stood up walking away. The both of you looked at each other and then made to follow him to wherever he was heading. Just a few paces behind Jonathan you saw he was walking to Lonnie’s car. You started to panic and rushed closer to the car and walked to the open passenger door where Jonathan was trying to open the glove compartment.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered.

Jonathan just ignored you and kept fiddling with the lock before it opened. Nancy was just behind you watching as Jonathan was digging around for the gun Lonnie keeps. When Nancy saw it she looked around and then back at Jonathan through the front window.

“Are you serious?”

“What? You want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it?”Jonathan grabbed the gun and all the bullets then closed the door walking to the two of you, both sporting similar looks across your faces. One of annoyance and worry.

“This is a terrible idea,” Nancy whispered.

“You think?” you retorted.

“Look, this is the best we got. We can’t tell anyone, they’re not gonna believe us. We have to do this ourselves.”

You knew Jonathan was right, but you still didn’t like this dumb plan. You blew out a breath then looked at your watch for the time. When you saw it, your eyes blew open from shock because it was already almost 2 pm. You had to get to work, stupid Shelly for making you take her shift.

“Look, I have to get to work. So for the next four hours don’t do anything too stupid until I’m off. Also, could you pick me up after and bring extra clothes?”

The last part was directed at Jonathan who just nodded, but the first two parts were for both of them. If they were planning to do this half-cocked plan then you were doing it together, the three of you. You made your way to the trunk of Lonnie’s car and pulled your bike since you knew you had to leave early along with your bag containing your work clothes. You left the two of them behind along with everyone else who was inside the church having breakfast or whatever. You didn’t want to be at this funeral anyway, but having to leave because of work doesn’t exactly make it better.

…

You were three hours into your shift. Just took your only fifteen an hour ago and now you were stuck back behind the register waiting for a customer to come into the small pizza shop. There had only been a handful of customers to come in so far so this shift felt like it was dragging on for longer than it actually was. There wasn’t much to do, everything was already stocked and organized and you’ve cleaned the counter and the three small booths five times already, but your boss was gonna be on your ass if it didn’t look like you were doing something.

You squatted down behind the counter and looked at all the things that could need cleaning or be restocked, but still, nothing different since you last checked. As you were just staring at packets of parmesan cheese, the bell above the door signaled a customer, at least that was something. As you were standing up you could hear some chatter, sounded like a boy and a girl were having some type of discussion. With your full height, you were assaulted by the sight of Tommy and Carol as they looked at you and then giggled at each other. They walked up to the counter and just leaned their weight forward making you step back from the counter to keep a safe distance. You didn’t like that they were here because them being here means that they were probably gonna just bother you until they got bored or you clock out.

“Welcome to Lenny’s, how may I take your order?”

Carol and Tommy were making a big show of looking over the menu, humming and tapping their index finger either on the counter or on their chin.

“Can you wait a moment? Steve isn’t here yet.”

Carol spoke with an air of fake kindness surrounding her. You just gave a tight-lipped smile and walked into the kitchen to the back room for a moment to breathe. Why does life hate you these days? Can’t you get a nice break, just a quiet day?The bell from the front door chimed the signal a new customer had entered, probably Steve. You felt the butterflies swarming around in your intestines at the thought of seeing Steve again after what happened last time.

“You’re lucky today Harrington, but next time it’ll be worse,”

You wish someone else could take your spot, but of course, Beth isn’t coming until six, when you’re off work. You heard the bell that was on the counter ring out and a voice calling for you. You just tried to keep a friendly attitude and face when you walked back to the front to once again see Carol and Tommy and now Steve standing behind the both of them with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He was rolling back and forth on his feet and studying the menu. You repeated the greeting that you said earlier and Steve looked down at you with a bit of a wide-eyed look on his face. He started to shift his gaze anywhere other than at you, looking at the dirty floor, or peeking into the kitchen and watching the cooks through the little hole in the wall.

“Steve, why don’t you pay?” Carol turned to Steve as she and Tommy left the counter and went to one of the booths you cleaned earlier.

Steve turned to the both of them as they walked away. You could see his neck and the tips of his ears were getting a bit red, but you thought nothing of it. He turned back to you and pulled out his black leather wallet.

“So I have one slice of cheese pizza, one slice with olives, peppers, and sausage. Anything else?”

Steve was just gazing back at you when you looked up from the register recounting Carol and Tommy’s order. You saw his eyes darting very quickly, you didn’t know if he was looking over your face or what, but the silence was getting to you.

“Steve?” “Uh?”

“Did you want anything?”

“Just a slice of pepperoni. Thanks.”

You placed his order in the register and gave him his total. He handed some cash over, and you handed back the change, the tips of your fingers grazing his open palm for a moment then you pulled back and he dropped what was left in his hand into the tip jar.

When their orders were ready you walked out from behind the counter and walked over to the booth they were occupying. Tommy and Carol on one side with Steve by himself on the other. You gave them their food and went back behind the counter pretending to do something for the last 25 minutes of your shift. You wiped the counter again, checked under the counter, and looked at the stocked items again. You swept the entrance and eating area and cleaned the open booths. Carol, Tommy, and Steve were still in their booth talking and watching you now and then. 

When it was a minute from the end of your shift Beth finally came in, put her stuff away, and clocked in with you just behind and clocking out. You saw Jonathan’s car just outside with him waiting so you grabbed your things and headed out, but of course…

“Hey, Byers!”

You rolled your eyes and turned to Carol’s annoying voice and were splashed with something cold. You didn’t register what just happened until a second after. Your head and shirt along with the floor beneath you were covered in ice-cold cola. You stood with your mouth gaping open not even knowing what to do feeling your feet glued to their spots not allowing for you to move. All you heard was the bell chiming, saw Steve move out of the booth, and could faintly hear someone calling your name.

Jonathan walked in front of you with his hands on your shoulders and called your name with a slight shake to your shoulders. He looked to the left of you and you followed in his movement and saw Steve standing beside you with a wet rag in his hands. Jonathan took the rag and then led you away from the watchful eyes of everyone in the building. When you both got in the car and drove away you still couldn’t process what happened.

“What just happened?”

“Carol dumped cola over you.”

A beat then,

“Oh, okay,” you said in a daze.

…

Jonathan wanted you to stay home after the cola incident, but you weren’t letting him or Nancy go with just the two of them. That would be stupid, at least with three people the stupidity was spread out a little more.Instead of just meeting Nancy after your shift you had to take a quick trip home and wash off the stickiness the carbonated drink left behind. Joyce wasn’t home seemingly and Lonnie looked to have left again, thankfully so soon too. You were all cleaned up and ready to head out when suddenly you remembered the rifle sitting in the shed. You went out back, grabbed it, and as many bullets as you could see.

The drive to where Jonathan was taking you was pretty quiet. A mix of anxiety for this monster hunt along with tiredness on your end, and probably concern on Jonathan’s end. You could feel his watchful eyes now and again with him looking between you and the road. After another three times, you were tired of it.

“What, Jonathan?”

You turned your head from looking out the window to Jonathan, with his grip on the steering wheel, and looking out the front window. He looked a bit taken aback by your outspoken comment. He looked at you and you just raised your brows, waiting for him to say something since he kept looking at you.

“Are you okay?” That was it?

“Am I okay? Jonathan, I had my work watch me get drenched in cola by Carol’s annoying ass. So I would say not really, but thanks for asking.”

He scoffed at your outburst, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I think you mean it like that.”

“Okay, yes, but also, are you okay?”

He said the last three words slowly, quietly, but with strength behind them trying his best to convey what he was thinking in his messy wording.

You honestly didn’t know. You haven’t been okay since Will went missing, hell, maybe you weren’t okay before all this. But these past few days weren’t one for the books, they have been the absolute worst few days, just dragging you behind with a chain wrapped around your neck. So yea, you weren’t okay now, but you’ll be okay. After all of this is over, when Will comes home and you can wrap your arms tightly around his fragile frame, that’s when you’ll feel just a bit okay.

So you tell Jonathan, “when Will is home, I’ll be okay.” And that was enough for now.

…

You didn’t know what time Nancy would show up so you and Jonathan just set up some used cans and used them for shooting practice. You know Jonathan’s not a big fan of guns, and not a good shot either. All thanks to Lonnie’s awesome parenting skills. You, however, were a decent shot.

You shot a few rounds from the revolver Jonathan took from Lonnie’s glove compartment, hitting two out of three. Then Jonathan took his turn and well, let's say no monster has to worry about Jonathan if there’s a gun in his grasp. He was just hitting the air, it was kinda sad.

“Dude, are you even trying?”

“What do you mean am I even trying?”

You held your hands out in front of you like that was all you needed to say for your statement. Just as you were about to say something another voice beat you to speak first.

“You’re supposed to hit the cans, right?”

Jonathan and you both turned at the sound of Nancy. Her hair was tied up with some flyaways framing her face, her cheeks looked flushed. She was wearing a red coat with white fleece lining to keep her warm along with white fingerless gloves. She held a bag over her left shoulder and was carrying a baseball bat in her right hand. She looked badass and pretty.

Jonathan chuckling brought you back to earth and saw him and Nancy were next to each other having a conversation. Making jokes, laughing with one another like they’ve been friends for so long when in actuality it’s been what, two days.

Jonathan was unloading the revolver and then reloading it while talking and looking at Nancy.

“Have you ever shot a gun?”

Nancy chuckled at that, “have you met my family.”

“I haven’t shot one since I was ten.”

Ah, the worst tenth birthday.

You walked a few feet away to give them a moment of privacy. You walked to grab the rifle and a few bullets before heading back to the two figures talking with each other. You walked just beside Jonathan as he was saying something to Nancy.

“I guess he and my mother loved each other at some point, but…”

“We weren’t around for that part sadly.”

They both turned to you when you spoke, your eyes forward just looking at the scene before you. The scene from an outside perspective would look pretty normal for normal midwestern activities in a small town. Three teens doing shooting practice on pop cans, with no adult in sight. But the three of you knew this was anything from normal. Miss Nancy Wheeler, smart, bit popular, white picket fence family. Jonathan Byers, quiet, kept to himself, a loner. (Y/n) Byers, is also quiet, also a loner, but the one difference is that you’re a fighter. All of you getting ready to go out into the woods and hunt a monster that took your brother and Barb Holland.

“Can I try?”

Nancy asked Jonathan, nodding her head at the revolver in his grasp. You were still holding the rifle, wanting to make sure you still knew how to use it. You watched as Nancy held the gun, arms straight in front of her, taking her aim, and as she did she began her little family backstory.

“I don’t think my parents ever loved each other.”

“They must have had a reason to marry,” you reasoned.

“My mom was young. My dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac…and started their nuclear family.”

“Screw that,” Jonathan said.

“Yeah. Screw that.”

Then she fired her shot knocking the middle can off the tree stump. The three of you exchange looks of shock. Nancy Wheeler, having never held a gun before, got a perfect shot on her first try.

“Badass,” you murmured.

“You gonna take a shot or just stand there?”

You looked at Jonathan and raised your brows at his question.

“Well I’ll take the shot, you just stand there.”

“Ouch.”

You raised the rifle, putting the butt into the crook of your upper arm where it meets your armpit. Keeping a firm grasp near the front and a loose finger by the trigger, you closed one eye to block out unnecessary items in view. You breathed in and out, trying to steady your breathing and the beating of your heart against your ribs. On your fifth breath out you stared down the can to your left and shot it.The can went flying from its piling. You turned to Jonathan with a smile on your face and looked at Nancy. She looked amazed at your skills and it made you feel good that on this one weird skill, you were both equals. You held the rifle out to see if either wanted a go, Jonathan declined, but Nancy nodded yes and passed Jonathan the revolver to trade for your rifle.

“Don’t shoot yet, I want to see if I got straight in the middle of the can.”

You hurried over to the piling where the can was and picked it up. Only one bullet straight in the middle, it was the only one you missed the first time and now you got it. Three for three.

…

As it was getting later the three of you headed further into the woods where the monster usually hunted. You were walking just a couple of steps ahead of Nancy and Jonathan. You liked to observe the woods, something about them usually has an eerie sense of calming for you, but today…it feels like someone keeping a watchful eye on you and not moving away for a second. Just the thought that the creature was watching the three of you, probably planning when it should attack it, made chills run up your spine, goosebumps rising on your arms.

You were kicking at rocks and leaves, picking up twigs, and swinging them around. Doing these small actions reminded you of Will and when the both of you would walk the woods surrounding your house.

-

July 1983

“What do you want to go as for Halloween?”

“Halloween? It’s only July!”

You were picking up twigs, looking at them, then throwing them back to the ground. Rinse and repeat. You wanted to do an art project with Will, something that didn’t involve drawing since you already know he’s gonna show you up with his amazing skills. You were looking for twigs that you could glue or snap apart. Nice rocks that you maybe could paint on. Your art teacher always said, “anything could be a canvas.”

Will was a foot away from you, bending down and examining rocks or pebbles before placing some into his pockets. He even grabbed a few leaves and held them delicately in his hands trying not to crush them. His smile was so quaint, he was content right now just doing this simple task with you. Probably also happy thinking about his Halloween costume, he liked to dress up for the special night.

He looked at you as you were just staring at him and not giving him any reply to his question. You smiled brightly at him which he reciprocated right away and with ease. This was your amazing baby brother, Will Byers.

“What?” “Nothing.”

It was silent again for a few steps before you spoke up, finally thinking of your answer to his earlier question.

“How about we, meaning, you, Jonathan, and me go as Luke who you could be, I’ll be Leia, and Jonathan could be Obi-Wan or Vader, him being Han is too weird.”

Will chuckled at your last comment. The noise tugging the gentle strings of your heart, your lips gently pulling into a joyous shine. He turned to look at you again and just seeing that twinkle in his eye made you feel so alive.

“If we did that, the three of us for sure have to go trick or treating together.”

“Of course! I want my own bag of candy.”

-

You were pulled from the sweet memory at the commotion of arguing. You looked around and saw Jonathan and Nancy a few feet away from you, Jonathan ahead with Nancy trailing just behind. You rolled your eyes but rushed to regroup since they were lost in their own world just like you were a second ago. When you got close enough you could hear parts of their conversation.

“He’s actually a good guy.”

You froze. You know who they’re talking about and why Jonathan seems upset. Steve. Now you wanted to stay away from their conversation, but you needed to stay close together so you got your brain to work and made your feet move forward.

“Yesterday, with the camera…”

“He’s not like that at all. He was just being protective.”

“What he did was a dick move, but you did take an inappropriate picture Jonathan,” you spoke as you walked past them.

You get where Jonathan’s coming from with his disliking of Steve. Being on the lowest part of the high school food chain meant that people who were at the top would gravitate towards you just so they could make a show of harassing you. You know you got freaking cola poured over you by Carol, but Steve was there with a washcloth. Yea, that one little act doesn’t automatically clean his record, but you saw what Nancy was talking about at the time when he allowed for it to shine through his mask.

“Seriously, (Y/n)?”

You stopped and turned around hearing your name being called. Jonathan stood a step away with a hurt look on his face. He was upset you didn’t fully take his side in whatever argument the two of them were having.

“What?”

“He broke-”

“Yea, him breaking the camera pissed me off too, mom and I worked our asses off to save up for it. But what you did was a line you shouldn’t have crossed.”

You turned to Nancy who had her head down not wanting to be seen watching the two of you fight.

“Nancy, I’m sure Steve treats you well and everything. It’s just that we don’t get to see that, we see ‘King Steve’ every day in the halls. Also, him associating himself with Carol and Tommy H doesn’t help. They’re both assholes, everyone knows it. I would love for the possible future where he sheds the mask and shows his true face, but until then why don’t we put our differences about Steve aside for now since he isn’t here and keep walking. Need I remind the both of you we’re walking the woods at night to look for a scary otherworldly monster, so I think we should be on our A game. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You looked between the two of them and they looked like they didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth. You looked to Jonathan waiting for some type of confirmation which you got in a small nodding of his head then you looked to Nancy. She held her hand onto her forearm and was pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she also gave a nod of her head.With those two nods, you walked away and continued forward into this death trap.

…

It was now late into the night, the sun long forgotten. The moon and her stars being your only companions beside each other on this journey. You each had a flashlight in your hands and walked carefully with your limited visibility. The three of you had been walking in silence since your little rant, Nancy and Jonathan sometimes looking at each other when you snuck looks their way. You continued leading your little group when Jonathan suddenly spoke out.

“What, are you tired?”

“Shut up.” “What?”

You stopped and turned around. He was looking at Nancy who was moving her head around in different directions like she was trying to tune into a specific frequency. You cocked your head at her jagged movement. She looked at both of you.

“I heard something.”

“What?” Now you asked.

You all stayed quiet trying to see if you could hear whatever Nancy was able to. You couldn’t hear much, just noises of the nature surrounding you and then you heard it, just barely. You could barely hear someone whimpering. The chills ran up your spine again. You began to follow Nancy in the direction she set off with Jonathan just behind you. You were swinging your flashlight around you to see if there was anyone out there. Nancy continued until she stopped before a wounded deer.

“Oh, god.”

It was whimpering out. Its throat was ripped up and there were cuts and chunks of skin missing from the poor animal. You wanted to put it out of its misery, but you didn’t want to draw any attention at this time.

“We can’t just leave it here.”

“What do you want us to do, drag it along?” you said sarcastically.

Nancy looked down at the gun in her hand then looked up. Oh. She was aiming her arm up, a shake to her hold when Jonathan held out his hand.

“I’ll do it.”

“Jonathan-”

“I’m not ten anymore,” he said to your debarring.

The three of you stepped back from the wounded animal and watched as Jonathan held the gun up, shaking while watching the animal struggle to breathe in air. The moment felt like it was lasting forever, not knowing if he was going to shoot it. When it seemed like he was about to back down, something snatched the animal away. You all gasped, well you gave a bit more of a shriek because it felt like a jump scare in a horror movie.

“What the hell!” you cried out.

You all looked at each other not knowing what you just saw. Allowing a minute or so to pass allowed for your hearts to slow, just a bit in pace, before you followed the dragged path with the deer’s blood. Nancy led the way with Jonathan behind her and you following up the rear. You kept following Nancy until her steps faltered, the trail went cold. Jonathan kept a hold on the gun and pointed it out in front of him, not like he would get a good shot anyway in the dark.

“Where’d it go?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t know,” you replied looking for anything.

Jonathan spoke, “do you see any more blood?”

You both looked around trying to find more blood trails. Nothing. You looked at each other, probably thinking the same thing. Splitting up you could cover more ground, but you hated that idea. You were already living in a horror movie, you don’t want to follow the stereotype of splitting and the killer getting you one by one.Before you had a chance to propose a different idea Jonathan and Nancy had already gone in different directions.

“What the fuck!” you hissed out to no one.

Just as you were about to go on your own trail you heard screaming. You didn’t know who was screaming, but you followed it. You kept running when you realized Jonathan was calling out for Nancy. You followed his voice and found him beside her baseball bat and bag that lay on the ground just beside a tree.You panted as you asked, “Where’s Nancy?”

“I don’t know!” And then you heard her screaming.

…

“Nancy! Nancy!”

“Come on, come on.”

“Nancy, where are you!”

You were both screaming out for Nancy, trying to get her location or have her yell back. You were getting worried, what if she gets taken just like Will and Barb. You can hear Jonathan yelling her name as well and then you hear her. She was calling out for Jonathan and then you.

“Nancy! Nancy, we’re right here!”

You both were yelling over each other trying to figure out where she was.You chose to keep your mouth shut and let Jonathan yell for her while you tried to find her voice and follow it. Jonathan kept talking trying to get Nancy to follow his voice as you were trying to follow hers. She then let out a horrible scream and you saw Jonathan run towards the noise and you followed.

You ran up just behind Jonathan as he knelt to his knees in front of a tree with a giant hole, and cobwebs covering the entrance. There was a faint red glow emulating from it and it was making this squelching noise like it was moving. Jonathan got closer to the hole with his flashlight shining at it with the gun still in his other hand. He kept getting closer and you followed, hovering over his shoulders. The both of you crept closer and closer when suddenly-

“Jesus!”

You fell backward thanks to Jonathan jumping back from the tree. There was a hand sticking out from the hole, Nancy’s hand reaching out. Jonathan scrambled up and grabbed her outstretched arm, tugging her as hard as he could. You wrapped your arms from behind and helped pull Jonathan which would help him pull Nancy out. Soon she was halfway out with her upper half through. You moved to the side of Jonathan and grabbed Nancy’s other arm and helped in pulling her completely out.

She’s on top of both of you, mostly Jonathan. You were all panting from the adrenaline and the fact that Nancy might have died. You looked at both of them, and with a pant in between each word, you spoke your thoughts.

“This-is why-you never-split up.”

…

You didn’t want to go home and Nancy didn’t want to be alone so the three of you headed to her house. It was probably almost midnight when you got to the Wheeler residence, all the lights turned off indicating everyone was asleep already. The three of you slowly crept up the stairs and towards Nancy's room. You all quietly dropped your bags and the baseball bat onto the ground, you left the rifle and revolver in Jonathan’s car since, duh.

You went to the bathroom and rubbed the dirt clean from your face and hands, digging hard under your fingernails. You wanted to try and feel as clean as you can make yourself feel after tonight. When you were satisfied with how clean your nails felt and could feel the burning sensation you stopped. You gripped the sides of the sink and stared at yourself in the mirror. You were trying to see (Y/n) Byers, but you couldn’t find her, it’s like she disappeared and won’t come out for the time being.

You closed your eyes, your grip on the sink loosening, breathed out a breath then opened your eyes. When you felt good you opened the bathroom door almost running into Nancy. Her eyes look a bit hollow, which would happen when you were trapped in another world with a deadly monster running after you. She still was covered in a bit of slime so she was probably coming to take a shower. You stepped aside and let her through, the both of you chose to not say anything in the exchange.

When you go back into Nancy’s room Jonathan was rolling out a sleeping bag and then another, both for the two of you to sleep on the floor. You walked to the sleeping bag that was close to the window and sat on it with your back leaning against the window seal, claiming it as yours for the night. You pulled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, trying to make yourself feel secure.

“Hey.”

Jonathan’s quiet voice caught your attention. You looked to him and he was looking at you with his melancholy-looking gaze. He crawled over to sit beside you and threw an around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. You dropped your head on his shoulder and he dropped his head on top of your head. The both of you not wanting to say anything, just allowing for each other’s warmth to comfort you at this moment. You felt the tears slipping again, but you made no move to wipe them away, too tired to even do the action you’ve been doing for days.

“I think I’m gonna try and sleep now.”

Your quiet whisper made Jonathan pull his head away from yours and bend forward to try and see your face. If he saw the tear streaks he didn’t say anything but nodded once accompanied by a tight-lipped smile. He gave a quick kiss to the top of your head and then moved away to the other sleeping bag at the foot of Nancy’s bed.

You shuffled under the cover and pulled the pillow close under your head, a tight grip on it. You lay on your side with your back to the wall and your face able to see the bottom of Nancy’s bed. You closed your eyes slowly as they felt heavy with each second you held off sleep and then finally you let the darkness lead you away.

…

You were running through the woods.

Running as fast as your body and legs could push you away from the threat. You looked back every now and again when you could hear the growling in the distance. You were dodging trees and rocks, jumping over fallen tree branches. The little branches of the trees felt like fingers trying to grasp onto you and pull you away from the safety that you were seeking at this moment.

You looked back again as you were still running, dumb mistake. You tripped over a fallen branch and face-planted into the leafy ground. Your chin and nose hurt from the impact but your adrenaline was running and you didn’t feel much pain except prickling in the areas. Plus you couldn’t focus on that right now, you had to keep running. You scrambled to your feet, but it was too late.

The monster wrapped a claw around your left ankle pulling you back to the ground and dragging you. You reach out your hands trying to grab anything tangible in this situation, something to use as a weapon, something to grasp onto to stop the dragging. Nothing. You screamed out trying to see if anyone could hear your cries for help. Nothing.

You felt the monster’s claws sink into your ankle, it felt like someone was sticking knives into your flesh. The monster then grabbed onto your torso and lifted you from the ground. You didn’t know what you were staring back at, but whatever it was had no face you’d ever seen. Your body was completely frozen. It was like you subconsciously gave up what little fight you had and just watched as you were staring at your impending death right before you.

The monster’s mouth, head, whatever it was opened, and was slowly leaning in towards you like it was taunting you. And then when it seemed like it was tired of waiting it jumped forward and you let out a blood-curdling scream from your lips. The last thing you saw was the inside of the creature's mouth head, rows of teeth lining the walls.

…

You jumped forward and were panting heavily.Sweat was coating your forehead and your back was sticky with it. You placed a hand on your heart and looked around at your surroundings.

Pink striped wallpaper, a bed with white framing, and a desk. Nancy’s room.

You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath through your nose and shakily out your mouth. You could feel your heart with every inhale and every exhale, it was slowing in pace and soon met its steady rhythm. You finally opened your eyes and saw Nancy looking at you from her place atop the bed, with Jonathan beside her. You’ll ask later.

Nancy was hunched over some books on her bed, probably homework, and Jonathan was laying beside her with his back facing you. She was looking at you with concern and furrowed brows. She was biting her bottom lip and was then looking around her room quickly, it looked like she wanted to say something. Whatever she was thinking in her head she came up with the decision, the decision to quietly leave her bed and walk over to you and sat in front of you. You just watched her movements, scared you might still be in the nightmare and this was a trick to get you again.

“Did…did you have a nightmare?” She spoke quietly like you were an animal she didn’t want running off.

You kept your eyes on her and still kept your guard up, but you gave a curt nod to her question. You moved out from under the sleeping bag and leaned against the window seal again like last night, you sat with your legs crossed. You looked down at your hands that were sitting idle in your lap. You picked at the skin, trying to see if you could draw blood, wanting to feel any type of pain to make sure you were fully awake.

Nancy’s hands came into your view. She held your hands apart and was holding them both in hers. She was rubbing her thumbs against your skin, your palms. It helped in easing you out of your nightmare-induced wake. Your shoulder slowly sagged down from having them benched up with tension.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She was still speaking quietly, probably for you, probably to not wake Jonathan. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You were debating if you wanted to tell her, it’s better to talk about things rather than bottle them up. Plus she actually saw the monster, so would understand the fear you felt. You looked to her and saw she was just watching you, probably to see if you showed any hesitance to her question. You did, but you wanted to talk about it.

“I was running through some woods, don’t know if they were the ones by the house or the ones from last night. But I was running and I was hearing the growling, it was chasing me. I was running as fast as I could, but I tripped over a branch or something. I tried getting up and running again, but it grabbed my ankle and was dragging me. Then it held me by the waist and I was looking down at it. I don’t know what it looked like, but my mind conjured up something. And then its mouth or head was opening, like a flower, and I saw its teeth heading for me, then I woke up.”

Her fingers were still caressing your hands as you talked and it was calming. Her head was bowed down, neither of you making eye contact as you were counting your nightmare. You then looked at her as the silence stretched on. She was still looking down, a pout now taking form on her face.

“I wasn’t able to sleep last night.”

She looked up at you with that sentence. You didn’t say anything, just gave a squeeze of your hands that she was holding. The small action tells her to continue.

“Every time I close my eyes, I just…keep seeing that…thing.”

She looked at you again. You still didn’t say anything, waiting to see if she was still finishing a thought. She continued.

“Wherever I was, that place…I think that it lives there. It was feeding there, feeding on that deer. That means that if…if Will and Barbara…”

She trailed off at the end with a shuddery breath. You know what she means, you’ve thought it plenty of times.You lightly tugged her hands to get her attention. Neither has let go of the other’s hands yet and neither of you wanted to. She looked at you and you were trying to give a comforting smile for her, but it was a bit hard. You weren’t really in the best state to try and comfort people, but you would try.

“My mom and I talked with Will. If he’s alive, there’s a chance Barb is, too.”

“But that means she’s trapped… in that place.”

A beat, then, “we have to find it again.”

“What?”

You both turned to the bed and saw Jonathan, now awake, looking at the both of you. You pulled your hands from Nancy and placed them back on your lap. Nancy didn’t seem to notice as her sole attention was on Jonathan. She stood up and walked to her bed, still just beside him.

“You wanna go back out there?”

Nancy’s eyes looked like they were somewhere else like she was thinking something through. Jonathan turned to you like you had the answer he was looking for, but you just shrugged. You both looked to Nancy and she looked like an idea came to mind.

“Maybe we don’t have to look for it,” she looked between the both of you.

“When I saw it, it was feeding on that deer. Meaning it’s…it’s a predator, right?”

“Right.” “Yea.”

And it seems to hunt at night, like a… a lion or a coyote. But it doesn’t hunt in packs like them. It’s always alone, like…”

“Like a bear,” you offered.

“And remember at Steve’s when Barb cut herself?” 

Jonathan nodded his head.

“And then, last night, the deer…” 

“Hmm, it was bleeding, too,” Nancy confirmed.

“So this thing hunts through blood? Like a shark?” you questioned.

Nancy looked at you and gave a shake of her head like she was thinking about it, then a nod of yes. The three of you then looked to each other now knowing how to bring it to you instead of you going to it.

“Well, it’s still a theory. We could test it.”

“What, you want us to bring it to us for a theory?”

The two of them looked to you at your accusation and then at each other. You knew what they were thinking, they wanted to do just that. The two of them continued to have their silent conversation when the door knob started to rattle. They both reached a hand for each other, you just stared at them. Her mom spoke from the other side of the door.

“Honey, are you up?”

“Yea, I’m…I’m getting dressed.”

“I, uh, made some blueberry pancakes.”

Your stomach growled a bit at the thought of food. You haven’t eaten in a while. Nancy replied, “I’ll be down in a second.”

You waited and then heard Mrs. Wheeler’s footsteps leaving Nancy’s door. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You began to gather all your things, your bag, shoved your feet into your shoes, threw your coat on and you were ready for the day. You probably couldn’t walk through the front door so you threw open the window beside you. The cool morning air kissed your cheeks and ruffled your hair. You peeked out the window and looked around to see if anyone would see you. 

“Meet you at the car?” you asked Jonathan and Nancy.

They both just nodded and you headed out.

…

“The army surplus store?”

Jonathan pulled up to the empty building with the giant banner stating, ‘AUTUMN SALE ARMY SURPLUS 30% OFF’. He turned off the engine and turned around and looked at you in the back seat, you were kind and let Nancy sit up front with Jonathan.

“If we’re gonna fight a monster shouldn’t we make a trap? They’ll have pretty much anything we could need.”

He’s got a point there.The three of you walked into the store, Jonathan leading with Nancy in the middle and you in the back. The cashier didn’t even acknowledge any of you as you walked up and down the different aisles. They had things from fake animals for hunting, to picnic baskets. You weren’t really sure what you needed so you just grabbed some stuff that would be of use for a giant creature. So you found two bear traps.

You found Nancy in an aisle and showed her everything you found. She grabbed two mallets, a flashlight, and some giant nails. Jonathan walked up behind the both of you and was holding a gas container and some lighter fluid. Satisfied with what you accumulated you walked to the counter setting everything down. The cashier just looked at the three of you like you were dressed like crazy clowns or something.

“And I’ll have four boxes of the .38s.” “Oh, and two boxes of .22LRs.”

You didn’t know how much ammunition was in the shed so better safe than sorry. The cashier just grabbed your six boxes of ammunition and began to ring you up. He kept stealing looks at y’all and it was a bit fun, well in his eyes this scene looked funny.

“What you kids doin’ with all this?”

You kept silent trying to see what Jonathan or Nancy would come up with.

“Monster hunting,” was the answer Nancy gave.

The truth did always work. The cashier seemed amused and okay with the answer and just continued to ring up your total.

The three of you walked out of the store with a cardboard box of your stuff and Nancy was holding a small bag with the ammunition, you with the gas can. You grabbed the keys from Jonathan and popped open the trunk and they placed the things inside. Jonathan had a smile on his face and then gave a chuckle.

“Monster hunting?”

Nancy smirked at his comment. She then looked forward like she was remembering something.

“You know, last week…I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like. It took me and Barb all weekend. It seemed like life or death, you know? And…and now-”

“You’re shopping for bear traps with Jonathan and (Y/n) Byers,” Jonathan backed up.

“Yeah, life sure is crazy,” you offered while closing the trunk.

“What’s the weirdest part?”

Nancy looked to Jonathan at his comment, a smirk playing on her features. You saw they were having some type of moment so you walked a few feet away to allow for some privacy. As you were looking to the street you saw a red convertible drive past and honked its horn calling out to Nancy. It was some kids from school, no one important.

“Hey Nancy, can’t wait to see your movie,” then they drove off.

You turned towards Nancy and Jonathan who were still at the car. Then Nancy turned around and started to walk in the direction of the theater. You followed just behind and you heard Jonathan catching up. Nancy was swerving past the moving bodies on the street and then she ran up to the theater sign. You stopped just behind her and your mouth was a gap with the words written in red spray paint.

‘All the right moves, Starring Nancy the SLUT Wheeler’

Three workers were outside just looking, and saying stuff like, “I can’t believe it!” or “These kids!”

“Jesus,” Jonathan said.

Nancy was looking around her, at the faces walking past and judging her just on the writing. She looked like she was about to cry, but then she turned her head down an alley. You could hear a spray can hissing and someone laughing. You began to walk towards the alley and further in when you found the culprits.

“Tommy you write like a three-year-old.”

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t know you could spell.”

Nancy walked past you and began her pursuit towards the four teens. You and Jonathan are just behind her. Carol must have noticed all of your presence first because she said, “Aw, hey there, princess! Got your knights behind you?”

“Uh-oh! She looks upset.”

She stopped just before Steve, then slapped him. Honestly, he deserved that, but damn you didn’t expect that. The other three reacted similarly as you did, their mouths gasped open and said, “Oh!” “Damn!”

It took a minute for Steve to recover. He looked behind Nancy at you and Jonathan, a scowl ruining his handsome features. He looks a second longer looking your way before moving to look at Nancy.

“What is wrong with you?”

That one question got him riled up.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I was worried about you.” He was just staring at Nancy.

“I can’t believe that I was actually worried about you,” he scoffed.

“What are you talking about?”

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you, you wouldn’t want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?” Carol butted in.

‘What the hell is he accusing her of?’ you thought.

It’s not like Nancy outright told him, ‘hey I’m going monster hunting, don’t wait up.’ You and Jonathan were in the back not sure if this is something you should intervene in or let Nancy hold her own. Carol was up close to Nancy with a mocking smile on her face. You stood to her side a bit closer behind Nancy and Carol must have noticed you moving closer because she gave a laugh.

“Didn’t know you had both Byers wrapped so tight around your little finger Wheeler.”

Carol was looking at you, chewing her gum obnoxiously. She started to step in closer to you, her next target. She was looking you up and down, stepping closer with you stepping back with each step she took. It was like a dance, she stepped forward, and you stepped backward. You only got so far before you backed into an old crate stopping your leave.

“You know Tessa Anderson has been talking about you lately. Heard she misses you. Also, I heard that you’re a great kisser apparently.”

Your blood ran cold. This can’t be happening. Not now, not here. Your breathing was picking up, your eyes darting anywhere. You didn’t know what to do, you were backed in a corner and scared to even move a muscle. Carol stepped even closer to you, her front now pressing against yours. She was making a show out of whatever this is. You could feel everyone’s eyes watching the both of you, you wanted Jonathan to do something but he was just watching right now.

Her head dipped down, her lips dropping beside your left ear. She exhaled a breath and the chill released an unwanted shiver out of you. She gave a giggle, and then she spoke low into your ear, only for you to hear.

“I guess the whole Byers family are a bunch of pervs after all. What with you, your dad, Johnny boy, and your dead brother.”

The last two words registered in your mind and you snapped out of your panic-induced haze. You looked Carol in the face and whispered, “don’t talk about my family.”

You pushed her with enough force that she stumbled back, Tommy coming behind to catch her. You didn’t want to do any fighting today, all of it was gone from just that one interaction. You moved behind Jonathan, his arm stretched out like a wall to block you and you held a loose grip on his coat.

Nancy was still looking at Steve, but Steve was just staring down at Jonathan. It took a moment, but then it clicked. Why he’s acting like a jackass today, the day after you and Jonathan spent the night at Nancy’s, in her room. It seems Nancy got the same idea cause she looked back at Jonathan then at Steve.

“You came by last night?”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Does she get a prize?” Nicole replied sarcastically.

Steve had his head tilted up and crooked to the side. He was looking down at her through his long lashes. His adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow he took. His lips were pressed together.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that.”

Steve went from looking at Nancy to looking at Jonathan as he spoke again, “what, you just let him into your room to…study?”

“Or for another pervy photo session?” Tommy said.

You wanted so badly to fight him and Carol right now, but you just couldn’t today. You didn’t want any more attention after earlier. You wanted them to forget about you, you wanted to just blend into the wall and disappear.

“We were just-”

“You were just what? Finish that sentence.”

Nancy shut her mouth because she knew, you knew, even Jonathan knew. They wouldn’t believe and they would think you're crazy…just like Joyce. Steve took a step closer to her, his tall frame towering over her shorter one. He said his next words slowly.

“Finish the sentence.”

Nancy was breathing heavily. You don’t know if it was from anger, embarrassment, or what, but she backed down. Steve just scoffed at her, annoyed she wasn’t telling him what he wants to hear or whatever.

“Go to hell, Nancy,” and with that, he began to walk away.

Jonathan stepped forward and grabbed Nancy’s forearm, “come on, Nancy, let’s just leave.”

Steve didn’t like that because the moment he heard Jonathan talk to Nancy he turned back around, “You know what, Byers? I’m actually kind of Impressed.”

He shoved Jonathan and you grabbed him. You didn’t want Jonathan fighting anyone.

“I always took you for a queer, but I guess you’re just a little screw-up like your father.”

He kept shoving him and shoving him. You kept a hold on Jonathan leading him away, trying to ignore the words spewing out of Steve’s disgusting mouth. Today was not the day to fight anyone, you were already planning to fight a monster. Steve just kept running his mouth like he wanted a reaction out of Jonathan.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah, that house is full of screw-ups. You know, I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family, and more.”

You just ignored it, trying to let the words roll off your body like you were covered in oil and his words were water. Steve’s just pissed, saying whatever comes to mind, that’s it. You tried this reasoning in your head, but it still stung to hear him say those things about your family, about you right to your back.

“I mean, your mom…”

“Jonathan, leave it,” Nancy tried to reason.

You kept trying to pull Jonathan forward, but he stood his ground and wouldn’t budge.

“I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother.”

“Steve, shut up!”

“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family, it's a disgrace to the entire-”

You clasped your hand to your mouth muffling the gasp you let out.

Jonathan just punched Steve in the face. Steve gripped the metal bars beside him. He stood up and just looked at Jonathan. Jonathan was breathing heavily walking to stand a foot away in front of Steve. Steve rushed forward and tackled Jonathan by the waist and pushed him against the blue car that was sitting in the alley.

“Steve!” Nancy shouted.

Jonathan and Steve were fumbling around, the other trying to get the upper hand. Steve was on top so he threw Jonathan to the ground. Steve ran to Jonathan and kept him pinned to the ground trying to get some hits in. Jonathan managed to roll them over giving him the upper hand.

Carol and Tommy were shouting in the back, you didn’t care what they had to say. You wanted to step in, but Steve pushed Jonathan off him and they separated. Then Jonathan started to take swings at Steve, punching his face, his jaw, and his cheek. Tommy tried to step in and push Jonathan off, but Steve told him off. He wanted to fight.

“Jonathan, stop!” you tried to reason with your brother.

The cries were falling on deaf ears, both of them.Jonathan took a swing, but Steve ducked and swung back. He was knocked back for a second then swung again and landed a hit. And he did it again, just by his eye. The hit threw Steve to the ground and Jonathan got on top and continued to throw hit after hit.Soon the sirens approached, ‘shit’ you thought.

You got behind Jonathan and tried to get a grip on the upper arm of the arm he was using to beat Steve into the ground. Jonathan was stronger than you, so whatever grasp you had he would slip through or just shake off.

You looked to the cop car and saw Officer Callahan and Powell, along with a third officer you didn’t know stepping out and rushing over. Powell ran past you and headed off to where Carol and Nicole ran off towards. Callahan was running up to Jonathan and Steve so you stood back and let him do the work. He tried to get Jonathan off him, but Jonathan in his angered state elbowed Callahan in the nose.

“Oh! My nose!” he cried.

‘Well great, he for sure is getting charged with assaulting an officer’ you thought.

Powell pulled Jonathan off while Tommy pulled Steve to his feet. They both began to run away from Callahan as he shouted, “Hey! Hey, uh-uh. Uh-uh. Come here, little guys! Come here!”

Powell slammed Jonathan onto the hood of the parked blue car and handcuffed him.

Nancy covered her face with her hands and you placed yours atop your head. Of course, along with monster hunting, Jonathan had to get arrested.

…

You sat in one of the brown leather chairs that were leaning against the wall in the small bullpen. Jonathan was sitting at a desk with his arms stretched before him, the handcuffs visible on his wrists. Nancy came back from talking with Flo, the secretary, and was holding a rag which presumably was full of ice. She sat beside him in the open seat. She held the rag up indicating if it was okay, Jonathan moved closer to her and he leaned his head while she moved the rag to his bruised cheek. You just watched both of them in your silence. Just studying their body language and the way they kept stealing glances at the other. 

You tried to focus on the two of them instead of letting your mind wander to what Carol or Steve said in the alley. Carol making you feel terrible for having an attraction toward girls as well while liking boys. Steve calling your family disappointments and a disgrace.

You know Carol said those things because she actually hates you and does want to hurt you as badly as she possibly could. She thinks you’re lower than low, something to wipe her feet on to clean off gum or dirt.

But Steve, his words, his words walked right into your heart and started punching and kicking, ripping chunks of flesh out. You know, well you don’t know know if he actually meant his words, but if Nancy says that he’s actually a good guy you believe her. You know, he’s a good guy, but deep down inside, it’s just covered by all the ugly that his so-called friends bring.

You huff out a sigh crossing your arms and leaning your head against the wall. If you were gonna wait for mom and Hopper might as well sleep everything off.

taglist: @preciousbabypeter / @dessmxsworld / @heartyhope / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman​ / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn​ / @ameliabs-world​ /

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x byers!reader #steve harrington reader insert #stranger things imagine #stranger things reader insert #The Byers Harrington Story

[enjoy-guilt]

Stede and Ed are both a Nietzsche-ian fish (ofmd season 2 spoilers)

I’m having a massive brain rot so stay with me pls

The people who watched Hannibal are probably aware of the term “Nietzsche-ian fish”. I did my research back then to understand what Hannibal meant exactly, so what if I tell you that Stede and Ed are also a “Nietzsche-ian fish”? 

In Season 2 Episode 5, Ed and Stede are having this conversation:

Ed: Sometimes it’s nice to be patient. And wait. You can’t catch your fish unless the fish wants to be caught.

Stede: And you are the fish?

Ed: We are the fish, I guess. I think?

Stede: Okay.

And in Season 2 Episode 7:

Ed: You said it was a good fish.

Stede: It was a fine fish. It was… whatever.

Ed: Whatever? You don’t want to take my fishing seriously, fine. 

Stede: Come on, it’s not about that.

Ed: It’s everything about that. It’s everything about fishing! 

Ed: Fishermen and pirates are nothing alike.

Stede: You are a coward!

---

In “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”, Zarathustra at some point describes himself fishing. He believes that only the worthy fish will be caught. He doesn’t have time for net-fishing, because with this fishing technique there is a high risk of catching bad fish. But with his own way, that he calls “angle-fishing”, he won’t. He uses this technique: an angled rod and bait. With the best bait he will allure “the strangest human fish”. Only in high mountains, Zarathustra says, can one fish effectively for the “strangest” and “finest” “human fish,” for  altitude requires an effort that only the finest can deliver. He says that other Gods might want to “cast their nets into the human sea,” but he himself chooses to fish with bait and hooks—not nets— and only in mountain lakes. 

Net-fishing is not selective (just like farmed fish is not selective), unlike angling. Not all fish are worthy, and in order to catch only the “finest” fish, one must not catch the helpless and passive fish as in a net. On the contrary, we want a process where the fish chooses the fisherman in an active way. 

Now, let me explain a bit what I mean by farmed fish. A farmed fish is defined by its captivity, the only environment known to it is the one it was put in, it was meant to be there and be caught. Therefore, a farmed fish has no free will. But a sea fish is free and is able to make decisions. It’s more flavorful and firm because it's experiencing the world only as relevant to its own existence. A farmed fish has limited abilities, its world is not the truth, but rather something that someone else decided for it. But a wild fish is able to explore, to live, to make decisions. To experience the world without anyone intruding into its existence.

This is interesting when we think of Stede and Ed. Stede only managed to meet Ed because he escaped his environment, he escaped the “farm” he was put in and decided to explore the world, to make decisions, to live. Or better, Ed met Stede because Stede became part of the wild sea. Stede was ready to be caught on a fisherman’s bait the moment he left the environment he was in and became a wild fish. 

It’s also interesting to note how Ed joined Stede’s world. How they shared their worlds to each other and got to experience something entirely, got to experience both of their realities until they created their own. Ed’s life is not the way it was before and Stede’s life is not the way it was before. But both of their realities exist in a world they created. 

The fisherman and the fish belong to each other. One finds those that belong to one by fishing and being fished. So one must follow one’s taste in both senses of the word: our taste will lead us to those we have a taste for, just as well as our taste will attract those that have a taste for us. That leads to a healing relationship of shared presence. They were both willing to fish and to be fished, if they weren’t they wouldn't end up meeting each other. Both need a healing relationship after everything they’ve been through, and it’s important to keep in mind they were the ones causing each other pain. In “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” Nietzsche writes: “And whatever in all the seas belongs to me, my actual me in all things – fish that out for me, bring that up to me – that’s what I’m waiting for, I the most spiteful of all fishermen.”

A fisherman spends a long time until he catches a good fish, and an active fish takes its time until a bait seems worthy enough. A process that is long and even painful. 

Nietzsche insists that there is only one appropriate way for someone to fish. The few who can be fished must be selected according to two criteria.

they must be active in their own capture. Net-caught fish does not get caught as a result of their behaviour, only as a result of their presence (that’s why I said that farmed fish has no free will. Farmed fish is passive and unworthy). Nietzsche-ian fishing is intended to heal solitude.

They will be chosen according to their tastes. Only a select few will be attracted to the bait Nietzsche and Zarathustra uses.

Angle-fishing in mountain waters (this is where Zarathustra fishes) translates into the selection of superior men, and therefore allows the solitary philosopher to gain “company”. Nietzsche is clear: bad company is not a company at all. The company he seeks is a company of equals. It is because the fish eats the bait that the angler eats the fish. For Nietzsche, angler and bait ate one and the same. The angler places pieces of himself on the hook, pieces of the self that he is. The new self that he is.

The angler is not fully passive either. In the same way as the fish’s activity relies on the angler’s passivity and vice-versa, we may see that the relations between fish and angler are constantly reversed. So are the relations between Stede and Ed. They charge from being the fisherman to being the fish and vice versa, therefore they are the same. 

This mutual reduction, of course, is but an echo of the mutual encounter of the fisherman with the fish, and indeed, their mutual catching. Only the superior shall be attracted to this bait. The idea of ownership, which Zarathustra reiterates, doesn’t suggest that one subdues the fish they catch but rather, that the kindred spirits naturally belong to each other without being reduced to each other. For in the same way as one may be affected with “habits” that “do not belong to” one, one may be distinct from what belongs to them.

Ed says that they are both the fish, and Stede agrees. They both agreed that they were caught by each other. They were both patient and waited for each other no matter how painful it was. They remained and when they were ready they were caught on each other’s bait.

When Stede agreed with Ed that the fish was “a fine fish” (he also called it beautiful in the first conversation), after taking all of this in consideration, I believe that he basically agreed that it was all worth it. All the waiting, all the fighting, all the wounds. It all happened for a reason and that reason was for them to be ready to be caught. Their relationship wouldn’t work if one of them were to pull his rod out of the wild waters. Their relationship wouldn’t work if Stede were to remain captured in his old life and stop looking for a worthy bait to eat (I dare to say that his old life was given to him because of the environment he grew up in, he was meant to get married, he was meant to live his life, therefore his wife was a net-caught fish), or if Ed were to remain in his dark place as Blackbeard without acknowledging his feelings and his needs.

But then Stede says that it was “whatever”. It was at that point in their relationship that Stede started changing. He wasn’t feeling like he was enough so he tried to become what Blackbeard was because Ed was all he ever wanted/wanted to be. This is exactly what Stede was to Ed too. So when they started changing they weren’t attracted to each other. Stede was looking for Ed and Ed was looking for Stede. They were with themselves for long enough, and when their roles reversed (I’m not talking about their roles as the fish and the fisherman, these are always changing) they felt like they weren’t good together. They weren’t looking for someone like them, they were looking for someone “strange”, for someone to have their taste, for someone to want them for what they were. We could see from the beginning that Ed was getting excited by Stede’s reality, he was showing his interest in the books, the clothes, when everyone else didn’t feel the same way. And Stede never saw Ed the way others saw him, always appreciating his reality and wanting to be part of it. And by the end of season two they managed to balance everything out, they returned to themselves but in a reality they created just for them, where they could exist together. 

Then Ed says “you don’t want to take my fishing seriously” and that I believe that right there Ed thought that he was wrong. That Stede couldn’t take seriously everything they went through, that he wasn’t taking seriously the harm that he caused him, that he wasn’t taking seriously all the time he waited for him. When Stede left to go back to his wife (when him and Ed were supposed to leave together) it was proof to Ed that Stede wasn’t taking their relationship seriously. Like Ed says, “it’s everything about fishing”, it’s everything about the time they put into this, it’s everything about not reducing themselves in front of the other, it’s everything about what they did and how they were drawn to each other. It’s everything about not changing themselves and remaining the way they were. 

Ed then says that “pirates and fishermen are nothing alike”, and even though I’m still not sure what it means exactly, I believe he’s referring to their nature. A fisherman needs to be calm, to not talk much, to be patient, to cast his rod and simply wait for something worthy to come to him. A pirate is loud, he will attack, he will steal. A pirate will forcibly take what doesn’t belong to him, he won’t wait for something special. A pirate will cast a net and take whatever is caught in there, but a fisherman will wait for what belongs to him to eat the one bait he made for it. I believe that’s the main difference. 

Nietzsche used fish to describe loneliness. A loneliness that will be healed, gone with the help of a worthy companion. There is a Nietzsche saying that I really like: “My solitariness which, as on very high mountains, has often made me gasp for breath and lose blood, is now at least a solitude for two.” In the last episode we are shown just that, a solitude for two, while carrying the wounds and memories with them (I’d like to use Izzy’s grave for that, a constant reminder of the life they are leaving behind).

Their roles are constantly changing, and they have been playing with that since season one. In 1x04 they changed their clothes, Ed became Stede and Stede became Blackbeard. In that episode Stede was the one to give Ed marmalade and in 2x07 it was Ed that served marmalade to Stede. The scene in the moonlight is, I believe, the perfect example. In 1x05 Stede said to Ed “you wear fine things well” and then Ed said the same thing to Stede in 2x05. In 1x08 we see Stede on a boat and on his way to find Ed, and in 2x08 we see Ed on a boat and on his way to find Stede.

So, in conclusion, they are both the fish and that means that they are both the fisherman, both of them searching for each other until they found themselves in a solitude for two.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ed x stede #ed teach #blackbonnet #ofmd analysis #gentlebeard #nietzche #philosophy #friedrich nietzsche #brain rot #help lol #hannibal ruined my brain fr #i love them your honor

[the-insomniac-emporium]

y'all ever get a flash of inspiration for a tiny, tiny scene. and for once you actually write it down before the idea fades. but now you have to either figure out how to continue it/integrate it into a different piece or give up and post it on it's own.

anyway. was ordering groceries when my brain decided to throw a Mia/MC scene at me out of the blue (entirely unrelated to groceries, of course). I'll probably insert it into one of the other Mia fics I have planned, assuming I can resist the urge to drop everything and finish this right now

“I think about it sometimes, you know?” You say, a bitter smile on your lips. There’s something in your gaze, more than just the way you don’t meet hers, that tells Mia you think she won’t agree with what you’re about to say. Still, she hums, softly, waiting for the rest of it. Both your hands sit restlessly in your lap, nails picking at the skin until she finally reaches out to let you fiddle with her fingers instead. That’s what gets you to look up at her. But no words leave your mouth, just a rush of air past your lips, expression softening as you look at her. An eternity passes, condensed into the span of six seconds. “The improbability of this,” you relent, barely able to maintain eye contact. If Mia understands what you mean (and she does. you’ve done this before, in another life), she makes no sign of it, only giving your hands a squeeze when you go too long without elaborating. “This. The improbability of us, of a happy ending. All the lives we’ve lived, all the choices we could have made, and somehow… somehow we made it.” There’s no stopping the twitch of Mia’s brow, the hint of irritation, but she forces herself to keep her lips in a straight line, at least. It’s every bit the reaction you anticipated from her. Despite her interest in the occult, Mia always got stiff when you spoke of anything bordering on fate, on destiny. You always assumed her rebellious streak made her hate the idea of the universe having a plan for her. But in reality, in the truth she keeps buried between her fourth and fifth ribs, there is no coincidence to your meetings, to your love. Not anymore, not since your soul was bound to Miranda and her.

#mia winters #mia x mc #wip #resident lover #i do think it would only take a little more to really post on it's own despite being short #as it is there's no resolution to the scene #but whew boy I do like what's here

[wildbornsiren]

Delicate || Robert “Bob” Floyd/Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw (part 1)

Delicate. (never seen that shade of blue) Summary: It's a love story, but neither of them know it yet. 923 words. Part 1/4  Robert "Bob" Floyd/Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (FloydShaw) Warnings: Kissing. Pining. Notes: Hey @lorecraft​ this one's for you. Thank you so much to @imjess-themess​ for looking this over. Many many thanks to @therebeccaw​ for the header. Likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs feed the muses. Thank you so much for reading. It's so appreciated and means the most. ***Tag list is no more. Please follow and turn on notifications for @wbslibrary​ ***

“Truth or dare?” Jake asked. He had taken over the couch once Natasha had gotten up to get more drinks. “For Bradshaw.” He points at the man who rolls his eyes. “Truth.” Bradley says. “Coward.” “Are we playing or not?” Bradley asks.

“What’s your most memorable kiss?” Jake scratches at his stomach, lifting his legs when Mickey drops onto the other end of the couch. “I don’t really have one.” Bradley says, thinking about it for a while. “It’s just something that happens. I mean they’re nice and all, but none really stick out for me.” “That’s disappointing.” Bob says. He’s sprawled out on the floor on his stomach, book in hand. “Just means you haven’t been kissed properly.” “He hasn’t.” Natasha hands Jake a fresh beer and passing one to Bradley. “I’ve seen most of his kisses. They’re not that great.” “Alright then, truth or dare.” Bradley points at Natasha who simply smiles. “Since you’ve got so many opinions on my kissing history you’re playing now too.” “Truth.” “Did you take the other bartender from the Hard Deck home last night?” “Sure did.” Natasha grins again. “We had a lovely night, and I took her to breakfast this morning before I took her home.” She takes a drink of her beer, “I plan on seeing her again tonight.” “Nice,” Bob says, stretching to bump his fist against Natasha’s. “Be safe.” “Always am. Truth or dare Bob?” “I’m reading.” Bob holds up his book. “You have an opinion on my dating life; therefore, you’re playing too.” “Dare.” Bob says, setting his book aside and sitting up. “I dare you to give Bradley a kiss.” Natasha said. “Give the man his first good kiss.” Bradley swears he can hear time stop. He looks toward Natasha who is simply curled up on the floor, sitting against the couch. He had told her in complete confidence of his crush on the quiet WSO. She had promised never to bring it up. He should have known better. There’s no animosity in her face, mouth in a gentle smile, and she tips her head toward Bob who had gotten to his feet. “You alright with this?” Blue eyes meet his, Bob’s hand extended to him. “It’s just a game.” Bradley says, taking the hand. There’s a surprising amount of strength in the grip and Bob pulls him to his feet. He heads for the door, not wanting to experience humiliation in front of everyone else. “No, where we can see.” Jake cuts through his brain fog. “This isn’t seven minutes in heaven, Bradshaw.” “What? Hoping to take notes to level up your own game?” Bob drawls. “Just want to make sure that it happens, and you don’t chicken out, Bobby boy.” Bob groans, glasses moving out of the way as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hate him sometimes.” He turns to Bradley. “Last chance to stop this.” Bradley blinks, unable to think of anything other than the way Bob’s mouth moves when he speaks. He swallows twice and shakes his head. “He won’t ever let us live this down.” Bradley hopes that Bob can’t hear his heart pounding in his chest, or the way he can’t take his eyes off the corner of Bob’s lips when he grins crookedly. “You’re not wrong.” Bob says. Bradley blinks, in an instant his back is against the wall. Bob has him pinned, one hand on the wall, the other on Bradley’s throat. Bradley barely manages to control the moan, feeling Bob’s fingers flex gently on his neck. He's off balance, Bob’s knee between his legs, a slim thigh pressing even closer. All thought abandons him when Bob’s fingers trail along his skin, tipping his chin up. He’s drowning in the brilliant blue of the sky, the ocean—it’s bluer than that and so warm. A calloused thumb brushes his cheekbone, and Bradley’s traitorous lips part with a needy sound. “I’ve got you.” Those three words, so softly spoken, ghost against his skin. Lips brush against Bradley’s lightly. He feels dizzy, knowing there’s a splash of red on his face, nerves igniting when Bob’s mouth eases over his. That warm, gentle hand slides into his hair, nimble fingers tugging at Bradley’s hair.  In all the years of dating, one-night stands, he had never felt like this. Warmth courses through him, unfurling in his belly, spreading down his legs, his arms, into his fingertips which cling to Bob’s shirt. Barely brushing the tiny sliver of soft skin that peeks out from under the hem of simple white cotton. Bradley shivers when Bob deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping into his mouth. He’s losing himself in the kiss, in Bob, unsure where he ends, and the other man begins. He’s sinking into his pores, and Bradley knows that it will take weeks to get rid of the feeling of Bob against him, the scent of cedar and clove of the man’s body wash. The warmth in his touch, the vibration against his chest when Bob moans against his mouth—Bradley’s chasing every sensation he can. It's over entirely too quickly and Bradley’s not sure which way is up when Bob untangles himself. Once the sound of his blood pounding in his ears settles, Bradley’s acutely aware of how quiet the room is. He blinks once, twice trying to school his features into some sort of normalcy. “Truth or dare Hangman.” Bob rejoins the group, and Bradley finds it in himself to walk back to where he was sitting, flopping down next to Natasha.

#Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw #Bob Floyd/Rooster Bradshaw #Floydshaw #shelly writes #Robert Bob Floyd/Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction

[a-lonely-dunedain]

if you want an additional Situation, id be curious about ethedis with #2 :D

ok well. idk why my brain decided these go together but it turned out Very Mean oops. sorry it took so long my brain just, was Not letting me write descriptions. or dialogue. also idk why this is in 2nd person but that's just what it started as and I guess we're committed now *shrug*

#2: time loop (creative liberties taken) #6: reverse amnesia (no one can remember the character)

“Sorry, Corunir, was it? I think I’m a little lost-” Ethedis sets down her cup on the coffee table between the two of you, looking at you intently. There is the sound of rain pattering outside. You search her eyes for the faintest hint of recognition -futile, you know- but still she looks at you like a total stranger. Courteous, curious, but distant. “Can you explain it one more time?” You know it won’t do any good, but you start anyway.

“I’m afflicted by a curse. You’re not going to remember this conversation, you will not remember my face, my voice, or anything I’ve ever done. Sometime between now and dawn, you and everyone else I’ve met today will forget. And the same thing will happen tomorrow.” You managed to keep your voice level explaining it this time. You’ve had practice now. 

“I was a part of Golodir's Company, then the Grey Company, and then the Conquest of Gorgoroth. I became like this after retrieving some kind of cursed artifact from Mordor. I did not realize how dangerous it was at the time. Evidently the curse had a delayed reaction, as it only took effect after I had turned it over to the Houses of Lore for study and safekeeping.”

“I see…” You remain silent and let her process your admittedly hard to believe story. She always takes it better than most you encounter, no accusations of madness or ill intent at least. 

When your brothers see someone they don’t recognize wearing one of their stars, they tend to assume the worst, that it was stolen by an imposter trying to infiltrate their ranks or something of that nature. You of course don’t blame them for it, it’s an understandable reaction. There are so few of you left now, of course a stranger in one of their uniforms would be cause for alarm, but you cannot deny how much it hurts.

So you keep your star hidden when you speak to those of them still in the city. Sometimes you still try to explain your plight, sometimes they actually believe you, but always they forget by the next dawn. 

You find it hurts less to keep your distance from them. The mistrustful look in their eyes typically reserved for strangers is almost too much to bear. 

But Ethedis has always been a little more trusting. Ok a lot more trusting, to an almost worrying degree, but at least it means you have someone to talk to. Coming here to see her has probably been the only thing keeping you sane these last few weeks, she’s one of the few people you find easy to talk to in your current predicament.

The second time you came to her, you just broke. Realizing she truly remembered nothing about you, and the hopelessness of your situation truly starting to set in, is a pain you almost wished you could forget. 

But instead of doing the reasonable thing and demanding that the sobbing madman leave her room at once, she actually attempted to comfort you. A little clumsily perhaps, but the fact that she tried at all was enough to hold you together.

Maybe some part of her could see you were telling the truth, despite how strange it was. Some elves have the power to see into people’s hearts, and though Ethedis never believed she possessed such an ability, you have your own suspicions. She’s always finding new ways to surprise you.

She rummages around her belongings for a sheet of paper and something to write with. You don’t bother telling her it’s pointless. Come morning those papers she’s hastily scribbling down your story on will be blank once again, but you don’t stop her, there’s no reason to keep her from trying.

“So, this relic then,” she says without looking up from the paper “I assume you’ve already tried simply breaking it, and that clearly didn’t work.”

“Yes, the enchantment upon it protected it from any harm I was capable of.”

“I wonder if there’s something I could do to it… maybe tomorrow, after I’ve read over these notes, I could try-”

“I do not mean to sound rude in saying this, but I know that will not work.” You say gently, “You have tried that before, and many other things.” 

She’s attempted to unravel the enchantment a few times now, but truthfully you don’t want her anywhere near it. Not until you’ve exhausted all other options. The risk of her becoming cursed herself may be small, but it is far too great for you to bear. 

You think it might have been your proximity to the relic over such a long period of time that caused you to become like this, as it was on your person all the way from Mordor to Minas Tirith. But you still think it’s too risky for anyone to get near it, even for a short amount of time. Especially Ethedis. You cannot let her fall to this fate. You cannot let her be forgotten.

The scholars in the Houses of Lore at least seem to understand that whatever enchantment is on the relic is dangerous, so it is locked away far from anyone. Ethedis had to pull a great many strings for you to be allowed near it, until you learned who you needed to talk to and exactly what to say to be let in by yourself. 

“And, besides that, I guess I should tell you those notes will not be there for you to read tomorrow.”

“Ah.” her pencil stops “I take it the words will vanish as well as my memories?” 

you nod solemnly. “Anything written by or about me, I’m afraid. Truthfully, I did not come here to try to work out a solution. Not tonight.”

“Don’t tell me you're giving up, are you?” She asks sharply. Ah, there’s that stubborn hope you remember.

“No, not yet.” you sigh “But I am tired. Tired of all the dead ends. Right now, I just wanted to talk to you, hear your voice.”

“I suppose it would get rather lonely.”

You nod sadly. ‘Lonely’ seems a bit of a tame way to describe what you became after losing all your friends overnight, but it gets the point across.

“So, how did I know you?”

“In Angmar. You were there at my lowest point, when my spirit was broken by the Watchers, you gave me hope and light I thought were long beyond my reach. I have tried to be the same for you, in our battles with the Iron Crown, through the journey south, but… it seems I have once again fallen into my original role.”

She gives a thoughtful hum and glances out the window, between the storm and the darkness of night it is pitch black out there, but Ethedis still seems to be looking at something. “...Now that you mention it, it seems a bit unbelievable that I could have done all those things alone. I had not thought much about it, but it makes much more sense if I had a strong Ranger like you there with me.”

Your face gets a little flush “I think you give me a little too much credit, it was still mostly you-”

“Nonsense! I mean, Barad Gularan? Bogbereth? All those fights with Mordirith? They hardly seem like tasks for a lone elf, I must have had someone with me, and that must have been you.”

She looks back to you, her bright demeanor dimmed ever so slightly “I wish I remembered… You and I must have been close.”

“We were. Something other than friends, we loved each other, but we were not lovers, at least, not in the traditional sense. We didn’t really care what we called it, we were just… very important to each other.” It doesn’t feel right to refer to your relationship in the past-tense, you don’t want to think of it as being ‘over’, you still love her. But, you are a stranger to her now, present-tense would be inappropriate.

She looks at you piercingly, her bright green eyes seeming to search for something in you. Then her expression softens, something like pity almost.

“...do you need a hug?” 

You’re a little taken aback, she hasn’t asked that before. “I… wasn’t going to ask… I am a stranger to you after all, but if you’re offering-” you try to swallow a lump in your throat, and you cannot look her in the eyes “Yes. I need one.”

She walks over and sits next to you, then pulls you close. Tighter than you had expected, not how you think she would embrace a total stranger such as yourself.

You hadn’t noticed how cold you were until you felt the warmth of her arms. Ice has seeped into your very bones, and you do not want to let her go. It feels like it’s been years since you felt her embrace. The loneliness and the fear and the hopelessness all claw their way to the surface of your heart, desperate to be laid bare before her. You fight with everything you have not to sob into her shoulder.

You don’t want to let go, but you know you must. Your time here runs short.

As you pull away you hastily wipe away some stray tears that had fallen unbidden from your eyes.

“You will find some way to break this curse.” she states, her eyes not filled with hope, but with certainly. 

“If anyone else had said that I would think they were lying to be kind. Not you, though. I believe you.” She always has plenty of certainty to spare when you find yourself without any. There was a time when you might have thought it was mere naivety, but you know better now.

But you’ve been here too long now. It’s late, she might forget about you at any moment.

“I should be going now.” you say reluctantly “The curse will take effect soon I think, and I doubt you will be happy to find me in your room when that happens.”

As you walk through the door, a chill suddenly runs all the way through you, your blood turns to ice and your breath freezes in your lungs, now a puff of visible vapor before you. 

It’s happening again. You mistimed this visit, you had hoped to leave before this. You don’t want to turn around, you hate watching people forget, but you turn anyway.

Ethedis sits with the blank papers in front of her, seeming a little confused. She shakes her head as if to dispel some fog in her mind.

“...What on earth was I-” She looks up at you, the stranger in her doorway, and jumps to her feet in alarm.

“Um, hello? What are- what you are doing here?”

“Oh, sorry to disturb you, I just got a little lost.” You can’t hide the sadness in your gaze, and that probably only confuses her more.

“Wait, you…” she looks you up and down, then tilts her head “You look like a Ranger, but I have not seen you before… Who are you?”

You shrug “I should be going now.” and quickly make your exit.

She probably thinks she’s seen a ghost. You guess that isn’t too far off from the truth.

—

Eventually morning comes again. You walk through the streets of the lower circles, blending into the crowds like a ghost. 

You’re not really sure what you’re doing down here, but you find it’s easier to think when you’re walking, so here you are. 

You’ve been going around in circles in your head, no closer to any possible solution. Gandalf might have the power to undo this curse, but he is far away aiding the Conquest. You doubt he would be able to fix this without the relic on hand, and removing it from the Houses of Lore only risks exposing more people to the curse, so you wouldn’t dare try stealing it unless you had no other choice. If only you could send a message to him, but nothing you try to write ever leaves a trace. You could get Ethedis to write something to him again, but you’re starting to think anything written in your presence is doomed to vanish, as the last letter she wrote mentioned nothing about you or the curse, but it was still blank the next day. 

But something more alarming has come to your attention, too. It’s hard to gauge, but you think people are starting to forget about you faster than before. You feel chilled at odd hours of the day, and sometimes people cannot seem to look directly at you or hear your voice, almost as if you aren’t wholly there to them. You might not have time to wait for Gandalf. Could this curse even have the power to fully erase someone? You hope not, you hope you’re just imagining it, and you pray you never have to find out.

You wish you had never retrieved the damn thing. You don’t know what could have possibly possessed you to go to Mordor alone, not while Ethedis had not fully recovered from her injuries. You would have hated to leave her like that. You recall it made perfect sense at the time, it seemed important.

Another new worry has been clawing in the back of your mind. Perhaps you didn’t go to Mordor alone, and perhaps you were not the only one forgotten. Your actions do not make much sense otherwise-

In your distraction, you plowed headfirst into someone on the street. A young man with a distinctive red scarf and fiery hair to match. You do not know him. 

He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. You try to ask if he’s alright, but before you can say anything he quickly mutters an apology and slips out of sight into a nearby alleyway.

You think you should ignore him and focus on the task at hand, but, there was something else… 

When you touched him, you felt that same chill as before, when the curse takes effect every night. Smaller perhaps, but unmistakable. You still feel cold, you can see your breath.

The man with the scarf has some connection to it, and you need to get to the bottom of it.

—

(surprise! I found a way to be mean to Tossdir in this too! I am only a little sorry >:) you thought I just forgot to mention him earlier? nooo, but everyone else did! I have some vague ideas for where to go with this one actually. maybe I'll do a continuation if people are interested idk. this doesn't feel like my finest work but hey practice is practice and I think the concept is neat)

#ty for the ask! #aaaufhg this was Not Coming Together for the longest time #just had to slap myself in the face and say 'it doesn't have to be perfect it just had to be done' a few times lol #metaphorically of course #lotro fic #ask games #corunir #lotro oc #Ethedis #Tossdir

[nanowrimo]

3 Writing Tips I Actually Use (And Give to My Students)

We all hear tons of advice, but how much is used by the advisor? In this blog post, middle grade author, teacher, and NaNo Camp Counselor Lisa Stringfellow offers 3 pieces of advice that she gives to her student...and actually uses.

Kids sometimes have the attitude that adults tend to give advice that they don’t follow themselves, and they're often right. “Do as I say, not as I do” is a saying that too often rings true. As a classroom teacher who is now an author, it was only a matter of time before one of my students asked me that all-important question: “Do you use any of the tips that we’ve talked about in class in your own writing?”

During the virtual launch of my debut middle grade fantasy A Comb of Wishes, dozens of my students joined me on Zoom and this question floated up through the chat like a challenge. They knew that I had started my novel as a NaNoWriMo project way back in 2013, and that I had written and revised the manuscript over several years. But in that public forum, they wanted to know the truth–and I was ready with an answer!

Here are three tips that I give with my middle school students AND actually use myself in my writing:

Take Risks…Don’t Judge

I share these words from author Julie Danneberg every year with my students before NaNoWriMo begins: “If you believe that everything you write must be good, you won’t be willing to write something bad. And if you aren’t willing to write something bad, then you won’t risk experimenting with something new, or playing around in a new way with something old.” Writers can be perfectionists and we are often our harshest critics. The problem is that ideas don’t flow from our brains, out our fingers, and onto the page polished and ready for publication. Nothing inhibits creativity, divergent thinking, and risk-taking more than premature self-judgment. There’s a reason “ban the inner editor” is a hallmark of NaNoWriMo. Let the words flow and be kind to yourself. Everyone’s first draft is…well, bad!

Finish First!

There is a time for revision, but that time is not until the writing is done. Even the most experienced writer has to put aside the urge to polish until they get all the words out. Otherwise, you can wind up in an endless cycle of revising and never get to the end of the draft. Sometimes, revision can be a form of procrastination. You don’t know what to write next, so you go back over what you’ve already written. A better plan–skip to the next part where you DO know what to write. No one said we have to write in order. Leave a comment or note about what needs to be added later, and keep plugging away.

Give Yourself Time

When we finish a piece of writing, our first instinct might be to go back to the beginning and start revising immediately. STOP! A better strategy is to put the piece aside. Depending on any deadlines or due dates, it might be for just a day, but if possible, a week or more is ideal. When working on something intently, time and mental distance can be our biggest ally in making revisions that matter. I often put aside my work for two weeks or more before coming back to it. What that gives me is the ability to look at it as a reader, and not the writer. Fresh eyes allow me to think about structure, language, and other elements of my work more critically.

Wrap Up

Moving from English teacher to author has shifted my perspective on writing and the creative process. If writing is a sport, I am no longer the fan trying to ref the game from the stands; I’m an athlete on the field. My students? They’re playing right beside me. Read your work aloud, Find other writers with whom to share your work. We can share with each other pieces of writing advice that come from trial and error and the process of creating something we’re proud of.

Lisa Stringfellow writes middle grade fiction and has a not-so-secret fondness for fantasy with a dark twist. Her debut fantasy A Comb of Wishes was selected as an ABA Indie Introduce Kids and Indie Next Kids title and is a 2022 Horn Book and Today Read With Jenna Jr. summer reading selection. A middle school teacher for over 28 years, she is passionate about engaging students in their learning through authentic writing experiences, such as the NaNoWriMo Young Writers Program. Lisa lives in Boston, Massachusetts, with her children and two bossy cats.

My Social Media

Both Twitter and IG: @EngageReaders

HarperCollins/Quill Tree Books

Twitter: @HarperChildrens and @QuillTreeBooks

IG: @HarperKids

Publication Date: February 8, 2022

#camp nano #nanowrimo #writing advice #by nano guest #lisa stringfellow

[memestockpile]

newsies (1992) feel free to change as needed. 

rise and shine.

wake up, [name], the world is waiting. 

that’s my cigar.

since when did you become my mother?

aw, stop your bawling. 

how’d you sleep?

the streets are full of fakes these days. 

you smell foul.

met this girl last night. 

for a buck, i might. 

ain’t it a fine life?

what’s your leg say? feel like rain?

hey, stupid, that ain’t news no more. 

why do i gotta be saddled with you?

i’m keeping my eye on you. 

stupid question. 

better choke it, before you need another patch. 

boy, ain’t nature fascinating when you’ve gotta walk?

just gimme half a cup. something to wake me up. 

we need a good assassination. 

i get better stories from the copper on the beat. 

dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma?

you ugly little shrimp!

you shouldn’t be calling people ugly little shrimps, unless you’re talking about the family resemblance. 

ride ‘em, cowboy!

don’t rush me, i’m perusing the merchandise. 

you calling me a liar, kid?

i don’t take charity from nobody. 

alright, i give up.

what do they call you, kid?

how old are you?

i don’t need you, pal. 

sixty-forty, or i forget the whole thing. 

i got a hot tip on the fourth, won’t waste your money. 

‘baby born with two heads’. must be from brooklyn. 

you give me headlines that would put a whirling dervish to sleep!

what is that deafening noise?

i want to know by tonight. 

you’re a natural, kid. you remind me of me -- and i can’t say any greater than that. 

our father taught us not to lie. 

it ain’t lying. it’s just improving the truth a little. 

you young miscreant! 

you wouldn’t kick me out without a kiss goodbye, would’ja?

where’ve you been, kid?

aren’t you the cutest little fella ever?

get that cake your mother’s been hiding in the cabinet. 

i’m alone, but i ain’t lonely. 

why should you only take what you’re given?

so that’s what they call a family. 

you missed your supper. 

bad idea, chief. 

alright, pipe down!

what have we here?

we got a ton of rotten fruit and perfect aim. 

the world will know that this ain’t no game. 

so’s your old lady!

you don’t need money when you’re famous. they give you whatever you want. 

i gotta be either dead or dreaming. 

let’s get drunk. 

ain’t i pretty!

it’s my city. 

i’m the king of new york!

tomorrow, they may wrap fishes in it, but i was a star for one whole minute!

my name really gonna be in the papers?

spent a month there one night. 

maybe you lost your guts. 

don’t worry, i’ll carry you.

i don’t want nobody carrying me. 

you check the funny papers this morning?

this brain of mine, always making mistakes. got a mind of its own. 

you are so young...

he put an egg in his shoe and beat it.

sounds like you and [name] don’t do nothing but talk about me. 

just being with you makes me feel all kinds of extra. 

i’m dead! i’m in heaven! somebody give me a harp!

sometimes, the living is sweet. sometimes, there’s nothing to eat. but i always land on my feet.

i put on my best, i stick out my chest, and i’m off to the races again!

what’re we supposed to do to the bums? kiss ‘em? 

you win some, you lose some, my dear!

i said hands off the kid, you red-faced baboon!

talk and eat, right? on you, huh, pal?

they’re building some mighty good jails, these days. 

how ‘bout i roll it for you? double or nothing.

people think wars are about right and wrong. they’re not. they’re about power.

you bribing me? 

ring for my coach, will’ya? 

it’s past my bedtime. 

shut your mouth and listen!

you’re going to do exactly as i say. 

think over it in your cell. 

that hand is not ready to work. 

don’t be too hard on your friend. 

‘scuse me, sweetface. 

guess i can’t be something i’m not. 

be quiet and let me think. 

right or wrong ain’t worth a damn, now.

you thinking you’d like to take a shot at my schnozz, right? five to one says you can’t break it. 

you’re going to listen to me, boy. 

easy, lad! you don’t have to run, anymore. 

won’t be the same without you. 

i ain’t no good at writing and stuff, but i’ll be thinking of you. 

#roleplay meme #tumblr roleplay #roleplay #tumblr rp #rp meme #rp #inbox rp meme #rp inbox meme #inbox meme #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starter meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #sentence meme #askbox rp #askbox meme #ask meme #askbox #ask

[cuti-romeros]

Carraville + kiss for @well-good-luck-with-that

Thank you for the prompt, hope you enjoy! (Apologies for how long this took, carraville’s beautiful happy giggly mnf yesterday was apparently the kick of inspiration I needed)

-

“Good show, yeah?” Jamie says as they settle into the taxi.

He thinks briefly about asking Gary to start a Live, then decides against it. They’ve been just-barely containing themselves in front of cameras all day, all week—let this moment be only for them.

“Yeah, not bad. I’d give it an eight, I think.” Gary doesn’t pull out his phone either, even though they’d both agreed after the prep meeting this morning to do a pre and post show Live to kick off the new season in style. It seems Gary is just as tired as he is.

(It’s less that talking with Gary takes energy out of him, camera or no camera, and much more that resisting the urge to take Gary’s hand or rest his head against his shoulder is much harder when only half his brain is awake to remind him they can’t. Not yet)

Maybe someday they won’t have to pretend.

“Yeah, an eight, because you left all the tech screen stuff to me,” he says, because winding Gary up is as second nature as breathing at this point.

He’s rewarded with a sharp elbow to his side and a mumbled, “Fuck off.” It’s said in the strong, slurred Mancunian that only comes out when Gary’s properly tired, too far gone to waste brainpower on things like enunciation and elocution, and Jamie treasures every word. Gary has a tv voice just as much as he does, and he doesn’t take for granted that he’s one of the few who gets to stick around when it falls away.

“Five out of ten for the show,” Gary says. “Extra three is for getting to see your face when Palace scored first.”

“My face is worth three points, you’re right.”

Another elbow, softer this time. It’s more a caress than a jab.

“It was nice to be back,” Gary admits, looking out the window. The streetlights and neon signs outside paint his face in shades of red and blue, and even in a rumpled black T-shirt with his hair all askew, he’s pretty enough to eat.

Jamie contents himself with reaching his hand across the seat and settling it on top of Gary’s, like they’re blushing schoolchildren fumbling around in a crowded movie theater. It feels that way sometimes.

“Missed the Premier League,” Gary says, but there’s a smile in his voice, and Jamie takes that as an implicit invitation to hold on a little tighter, curling his fingers around Gary’s the way he’s been wanting to do all day. “Thirty years, can you believe it?”

Jamie thinks of Gary’s hand in his own, Gary’s faded United pajama bottoms tucked in a drawer of his wardrobe, Gary’s wheaties in his pantry, Gary’s contact saved with a little heart at the end in his phone—and snorts. “Thinking about a different anniversary, honestly.”

“Oh?”

Gary still won’t look at him, apparently deeply interested in something happening on the deserted streets of central London, so Jamie continues, “Our first MNF was nine years ago to next Friday. But we met a few days before that, do you remember? Some luncheon thing that Sky arranged to get over the painful introductions before we had to start working together.”

“Are you honestly going to tell me it was exactly nine years ago to the day?”

“Are you honestly going to tell me you don’t remember?” Jamie remembers, but then again, he doesn’t forget much. And he’s happy to lose every last bit of his football pub trivia knowledge before he loses the memory of that day, shaking hands with Gary across the table and looking into his eyes and realizing that without the United crest or the usual sneer, he’s actually a startling beautiful man. Jamie remembers, because it’s hard to forget a day that changed your life.

“I remember,” Gary says, very, very quietly, and that’s how Jamie knows he’s telling the truth. “I wanted to punch you, and then I wanted to—well. Not something you forget easily.”

And yeah, Jamie remembers that moment too. Not as well as he’d like, the exact sensations stolen away by time, but he’s had plenty of kisses from Gary in the interim to refresh his memory.

“Happy anniversary, Gaz,” he murmurs under his breath, low and quiet so the taxi driver won’t be able to catch it.

It’s dark enough back here, and they’re turning onto a pretty dimly lit street. Maybe…

“I don’t like the look in your eye. What’re you up to?”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“Am I wrong?”

“All the time.”

Gary turns away from the window, and finally looks at him. “James.”

Heat pools low in his belly. Even half asleep, Gary only knows one way to look at people—intensely, with a stare that would root lesser men to the spot. Combined with the growl in his voice—Jamie is only human. And a very tired human at that.

He spares one second to think about how everything could crumble down around his ears if the driver picks this particular moment to check his rearview mirror, and then leans forward and steals a kiss. It’s quick and soft, a peck more than anything, but he feels warm from head to toe when he pulls back, their hands still intertwined on the seat between them.

“What was that?” Gary sounds like he’s somewhere between wanting to kill him and wanting to kiss him again, so Jamie figures he’s in the clear.

“Unless we’re remembering nine years ago very differently, there’s only one way to celebrate this anniversary.”

“I remember it going a little differently,” Gary teases, and Jamie has just enough time to think oh are we—

Gary kisses him exactly like he first did then, tongue and teeth and fire, and every other thought disappears from his head. It takes every ounce of concentration Jamie has not to moan into it and give everything away, but he holds himself together, even manages to lift his free hand to cup Gary’s cheek—he couldn’t do that when they first met, but he can now, knowing it won’t be batted away. Sparks dance across his palm, even all these years later, at the feel of Gary’s skin beneath his own.

A bright red glow falls over them, and Jamie tries to pull back. Must be a traffic light.

But Gary holds him there, inches from his face, with nothing but the weight of that piercing gaze. “Happy anniversary, James,” he whispers, so close that Jamie can feel Gary’s breath hit his cheek and all but taste the words on his lips.

Jamie gives Gary just enough time to see that look in his eyes from quite up close, before saying with a smirk, “Did you kiss Scholes with that mouth?”

Back then, he nearly got decked to the floor for that. Today, Gary rolls his eyes with a huff (and it’s fond huff, Jamie can tell), and never even tries to let go of his hand.

They’ve come a long way in nine years. Jamie looks at the sky through the window, and he doesn’t see a shooting star, doesn’t even believe in that sort of thing, but he silently makes a wish for nine more.

#carraville #*writing

[rangerdoubt]

Haha jokes on me I’m failing to do my AU Roulette work so— 9 and 18 for Miriam, 23 and 34 for Elmo, and 13 and 18 for Miguel, from the Sidestep ask game? :)

thank u for the ask and the meme! and also: 🤝 au roulette. sorry to those fics they are simply W without the IP by now.

cut for length? i’m on mobile <33 i don’t know how this is going to format

MIRIAM

9 how honest are they?

- she more… withholds information than outright lies. what you get is the (sometimes semi-filtered) truth, but you do get exceedingly little. the thing is—she’s bad at it. under physical and emotional pressure (e.g. ortega’s apartment) she’s liable to let things slip, which can be… inconvenient. funnily enough, if she didn’t hate the idea of having to keep up the lie, she’d be a phenomenal liar. she makes it work a bit like gambling: it’s not that you trust her—you’d be a fool to trust her entirely—can you really afford to put her to the test?

18 what is their greatest fear?

being lonely. being unforgivable. on the opposite end: being under someone else’s thumb forever. these are not that far apart. the natural cost of refusing to let people close enough to control you, is that you never let them close enough to love you either. and then you miss them like an open wound and they have control over you forever anyway.

ELLIAN

23 how do they feel about possessing people?

HA like they recognize that objectively it’s a bad thing to do, and they’re not going to try to possess you to your face but otherwise no real qualms. hero/villain possessions like with argent are rare: pain in the ass, don’t shit in your own backyard type stuff. mostly little things like the puppet at the beginning of rebirth: pick someone up, dust them off, do some minor job—then put them down, safe and only a little confused after. maybe even drop them where they were going. if elmo was, you know, mangling a guy’s brain on the reg, they’d feel a little weirder, but as it stands they’re confident enough in their own telepathic skill that they don’t really feel the need to feel bad. nice and easy: you won’t feel a thing.

34 are they nostalgic for their sidestep days or eager to move on?

they… miss the optimism. the certainty that they were doing the right thing the best way they knew how. the feeling of trusting someone to have your back. elmo still likes being liked, even after everything. but what they really don’t like, is being pushed back and covered up. going back to sidestep days means ignoring all the shitty things that happened after—and if it means addressing the issue and getting payback, then they just have to accept that that time in their life is irrecoverable. of course things are worse now: the truth is out. (this is what they get so mad at ortega for. what do you mean we’re back in the good old days?)

MIGUEL

13 do they want to be well-known, or do they prefer to remain obscure?

his arrogance stat is at—16? which is so funny for a guy who is actively harassing the kingpin of LD. i think he wants to be… widely-known, but not well. on a personal level, that’s safer, for him and the people who really know him: chentega, the rangers, bo and the crew, even mortum.

but on a professional level? it makes it easier to build an organization when no one knows what they’re looking for. the public has no face, no name, no discernable agenda, but he’s there and the other shoe will drop someday. hollow ground can keep the name: he doesn’t want to be at the forefront of the city’s cultural consciousness, but he’s seating himself somewhere deep in the urban amygdala.

18 what is their greatest fear?

he would say that the greatest fear has already happened. by “dying” as sidestep, he found out exactly how little he mattered to the system and the world at large. whatever good he tried to do as a hero and as an individual got washed away in the end, and for his troubles he got years of physical and mental torment. so like—there’s not much worse it can get!

but that’s mostly a coverup: haha, i’m not scared anymore, he says, scared. these days he mostly worries about things getting out of hand. he’s not afraid of losing, not afraid of death—he’s nervous that he will eventually be overtaken and destroyed by the consequences of his own actions. so he prunes it down, tightens the leash, keeps the inner circle small and his connections private—gets rid of anything that unmoors him from the reality of his situation. and hopefully that’s enough.

#miguel serrano #fhr: ellian lam #miriam basri