#elstan

[antisociallilbrat]

The Williams Part Two

Part One

Read on Ao3

Summary: It's their first date! Doesn't start off on the right foot but the night is young so it can still recover...right?

A/N: Yes I am reposting this bc for my last couple writings I was like 'aw shucks my posts sure aren't getting the interactions like they used too' ... it was bc i am an I D I O T who had my privacy settings set to keep my posts hidden in the tags/search results. Anyways.

The bar is too crowded, the music is too loud, and it has an undercurrent smell of fake cheese. Like the kind they'd serve over nachos at The Palace. Back when Will was a kid and videogames were more important than dates.

Now he’s twenty years old, crammed into a booth that has a couple of mysterious stains, and sipping lukewarm beer out of sight of the bartender. They’re probably too busy to notice- or to even care, but he’s always been a little on edge when it comes to breaking the rules. 

During the afternoon he spent with Bill at The Bean he was really hoping it would end with Bill asking him out. Luck was on his side; for once. 

It’s just that he wasn’t exactly picturing their first date with all of their friends in attendance. Maybe he was a little presumptuous to assume that their first date would be a private affair. 

Bill invited him to Richie’s open mic, implying that his friends would be there. It left him feeling a little…put out because maybe Bill only wanted to be his friend. But then Bill told him they could sneak off afterward to go do their own thing, that he had an idea. He followed it up with a wink, one that looked ridiculous yet charming in a weird way that only Bill could pull off. 

But things are never simple in Will’s life and he later learned that Richie also invited Mike. Apparently, while they were scheming in his and Bill’s love life. What was surprising was that Mike was going - and was bringing El; at Richie’s instance. 

He had a lot of questions but he’s starting to see the answers. Richie isn’t on stage yet, if you could even call that a stage, it’s more like a literal soap box set up by the bar. Some other act is on right now, trying desperately to speak over the music. Mike, El, and Stanley are standing around a table by the stage. 

He doesn’t have an opinion on Stanley yet, this is the first night they’ve ever formally spoken but it’s obvious why Richie insisted they bring El. The man with the chocolate neat curls keeps biting back at the poor comedian, getting a rise out of El every time he does. When El laughs, her eyes fleetingly closing, Stan is smiling at her like he’s made a great accomplishment. He’s only poking fun at the comedian to make El laugh. Will wonders if El has noticed…probably not. She never notices when someone’s interested in her.

Along with Stanley and Richie, he’s met Bill’s other four friends. Ben and Beverly, a couple, Eddie- Bill’s first friend as he introduced himself as, and their own Mike. Their Mike is much sweeter than Will’s. 

Those four are at the bar. They were sitting in the booth with them but when Bill came back with his and Will’s beers, they each started making excuses to get up. None of them came back and they’re not even trying to hide the fact they’re hanging at the bar. They left him and Bill alone on purpose. 

In the booth Bill shifts in his seat next to him, his jeans making that awkward sound when they rub against the plastic of the seat. He looks vaguely uncomfortable and while Will has been sipping on his drink Bill has almost finished his. 

Bill is rubbing at the disintegrating label of his beer bottle, an awkward silence filling the void between them. They’ve already run through all the safe questions, ‘did you find this bar okay?’, ‘how were classes yesterday?’, ‘do you like your drink?’.

It’s such a tonal shift from their conversation at The Bean. Bill had had more…confidence if Will had to pin it down to something. They talked about Bill’s writings- he’s a horror writer, and Will had shown him some of his paintings. They had connected so easily then and he doesn’t understand why now is so different. The whole thing has him feeling a little anxious. 

Bill swishes his bottle, running empty, “Guess it's time for another,” he says as he stands. He nods towards Will’s bottle, “Do you need another one?”

Will shakes his head and just like that he’s alone. He deflates in his seat when Bill is out of sight, letting his head thud against the back of the booth. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe Bill was better off being ‘The Writer’ that he got to pine over from a distance.

“What’s shaking my second favorite William?” Richie cuts him out of his quickly spiraling thoughts, sliding into the booth across from him. 

Richie has cleaned up for tonight- but his definition of ‘clean up’ is far from what the normal person would consider. He’s wearing a silk blue button up with a black vest loosely tied in the front. It’s flattering in a weird way. Light smudges of eyeliner line his eyes behind his magnified lenses and there’s a cigarette tucked behind his ear, almost hidden in his barely tamed curls. At least Will thinks it’s a cigarette.

“It’s fine, nothing much,” he replies, hoping his dejection isn’t showing on his face.

Richie just hums, rapping his knuckles against the table. He just now notices that Richie has freshly painted his nails black. He jerks his chin towards the bottle in Will’s hands, “Didn’t take you as a fan of Bud Light.”

He sets his barely drinked beer on the table, “It’s fine, not my first choice but Bill ordered for us.” 

“Makes sense, Bill’s always been fond of his piss water,” he makes a move to stand, “I can get you another drink if you want, we don’t gotta tell Big Bill.”

Will snatches Richie’s wrist before he can fully stand up. Slowly he sits back and down and watches Will with curious eyes. Will starts back peddling, “It’s fine, really. You’re supposed to go on soon right? I’d hate for you to miss your cue because you're stuck at the bar getting me a drink.”

Richie ignores most of his weak statement, “Ya know, for a guy who’s supposed to be on a hot date, you’ve said 'fine’ three times in the last minute.” When he can’t find anything to say, Richie does so for him, “Billiam is being horribly awkward isn’t he?”

He gives, sighing, “Just a little- and I don’t understand. We were having a nice time back at The Bean, I don’t get why this time is different.”

Will is entirely unprepared for what Richie tells him next, “It’s because this is a date and Bill hasn’t been on a date in two years, not since his last, horrible, boyfriend,” He leans forward on the table and it throws Will off a little at how serious he’s being, “Look, Big Bill? He’s good at being charming and swooning with people, but dating? He’s worse at it than I am. He over-thinks it. Sure, he’s a hopeless romantic, but he struggles with new people when they aren’t so new anymore. Been burned a couple of times because of them.”

“I- I see…and I understand that. I don’t date often because new people intimate me,” Will takes another sip of his beer, feeling a little overwhelmed. He doesn’t have any exes, he’s barely gone on dates before. 

But then Richie snorts, “So you’re both bad at dating. Great.”

He frowns at him, “You have any advice then?”

Richie raps his knuckles against the table again, in a drum roll manner, “Matter of fact I do. Make him talk- and not about the boring stuff. Ask him when he had his first beer or better yet find out if he’s an actual monster fucker for me if you will? His stories are telling but I need evidence,” Will’s about to inject because he is not asking about that but Richie continues, “Fine leave the monster fucking questions for date two- but I’m serious, ask him about the fun stuff, the important stuff and show you have a genuine interest in him and he’ll be waxing poetics about ya by the end of the night.” 

This makes him feel better, gives him a look into Bill- one he wasn’t expecting, and lets him know how to get to know Bill better from his own words…it’s just there’s one anxiety of his lingering. “So it’s not me? I didn’t do anything to make him not interested in me anymore?”

Richie chuckles, “William, my William hasn’t shut up about you since he laid eyes on you. No offense but it was a little insufferable. You could probably spit in his face and he’d still be interested in you…actually, maybe he’d be more interested in you then, I don’t know what he’s into.” 

His face suddenly feels hot, “Shut up,” he mumbles, looking down.

Richie just smiles back, “So what are you going to do when Bill comes back?”

“...Ask him about his first time drinking piss water?”

“There ya go!” he shoots finger guns at him, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go flirt with my date before my show.”

His what-  “Are you talking about Mike?” 

“My future one true love? Yes absolutely,” he replies without missing a beat. 

He looks back at him incredulously, “Does Mike know he’s on a date right now?”

“He will, it’s all part of my master plan. Wait ‘n see.”

Part of him thinks he could do the responsible friend thing and warn Mike of Richie’s intentions, let Mike decide from there- but Mike did dig his own grave when he decided to meddle in his love life. So instead Will says, “You said you were bad at dating too so some advice; Mike likes to play hard to get, and he’s dramatic in the way he likes to be chased.” 

Richie’s eyes twinkle, “Well Papa likes a good chase,” he winks at him as he flies out of the booth, not even giving Will enough time to internally cringe at him calling himself ‘Papa’.

He watches Richie join the others at the table in front of the stage. Richie throws a haphazard arm around Mike’s shoulders…who looks annoyed and snaps something at him that Will can’t hear from here but he doesn’t shake Richie off. 

“Everything okay over huh-here?”

Will snaps his head towards Bill, he’s standing by the edge of the table, fidgeting on his feet. There's a new bottle in his hand- this one’s label is still intact, and it’s half drunk. He must’ve been waiting for Richie to leave before heading back. 

“Yeah, Richie was just seeking my advice,” he white lies, scooting more into the booth in a way that he hopes comes off as inviting, “Stop standing and sit down with me.”

Bill smiles, sliding in, “What advice were you giving him?”

“On how to woo my Mike- speaking of which, did you know Richie was going to trick Mike into going on a date with him?"

He just shrugs his shoulders, “I didn’t but that s-sounds like Rich…did he say anything else?”

“Why? Worried he spilled some of your embarrassing childhood secrets?” Will smirks.

Bill scoffs, “He wouldn’t do that,” Will meets his gaze, eyebrow raised and Bill starts to feel not so sure, “He didn’t do that- right?”

“No he didn’t do that, I’m waiting on you to tell me those.” When Bill smiles Will takes it as a small victory. The tension between them is already lessening and he’s determined to keep it rolling and not let them fall back into awkwardness when this spell has run its course. “Though he did tell me to ask you about the first time you tried beer?”

The tips of Bill’s ears turn red as he ducks his head, “Shit you don’t wanna hear about that.”

“Oh but now I really do,” he leans closer to him. The smell of a woody cologne and lingering cigarette smoke invades his nose and he wonders if it’s possible to miss a smell after only experiencing it once. 

He can already see the bravado seep back into Bill as he gives in with a little smile, “It was freshman year and all us Losers thought it would be a cool idea to sneak into Eddie Corcoran’s seniors only party,” his voice has taken on that slow, smooth, tone again and he’s not tripping on as many words as he was, “We were successful too…until Eddie Corcoran confronted us and tried to kick us out…” Will nods for him to go on, “Well let’s just say the moment Corcoran confronted us the beer we had been stealing all night decided to vacate the premises of my stomach…onto his shoes. Got my ass beat that night.”

“And you still drink it?” he teases.

“It was my first love, what c-can I say?” Bill lays an arm across the back of the booth. It’s not on Will’s shoulders but it’s close enough, “Tell me, what was teenage Will like? Any raging parties?” 

He snorts, “The only parties I was going to as a teenager were Dnd ones.” He’s not afraid of Bill thinking of him as a nerd, he saw the Battlestar Galactica keychain on his laptop bag. It was cute.

“Like with elves and shit? Were you an elf?”

Will shakes his head, laughing, “No I wasn’t just an elf! I was also the Party’s wizard.” 

“A wizard huh?” Bill takes a slow sip of his beer, glancing towards him, “You sure put a spell on me.”

Will’s brain short circuits. Bill just stares back at him, a small blush climbing his neck. He just has to shove Bill in the side with his elbow, “That is the worst pickup line I have ever heard!” 

He gives him a mock offended look, “I was trying woo you, William!”

Will’s about to retort when a speaker comes on to announce Richie as the next comedian. Mike, Ben, Bev, and Eddie all rush to cram back into the booth with Will and Bill. Eddie snaps at Bill to scoot in more so that he can sit down. 

Bill’s thigh ends up pressed against his- in fact, his whole body would be if Will wasn’t leaning a little bit forward. There’s very little space between them and Will…he’s not mad about it. At this proximity, he feels the heat radiating from Bill, can feel the vibrations of his chest when he laughs, and honestly he just falls more into the encapsulation that is Bill.  

The arm Bill had resting on the back of the booth comes down to rest across his shoulders very lightly. Almost as if Bill is asking for permission. Will leans back, securing the arm more around his shoulders in answer. There is so much heat radiating between them he feels like he’s going to combust. He’s never cared so much about a guy liking him before and he thinks Bill does like him like that but also he always carries around a seed of doubt about anything good happening to him.

It makes it hard to focus on Richie’s act as he starts his act, clearly in his element. Will tries to pay attention, he does, but his mind is fogged by the smell of Bill’s cologne and the rumbling of his chest against his side every time he laughs at one of Richie’s jokes.

Stan, El, and Mike (Will’s Mike) opt to stay around the table near the stage. If Stan was heckling the last poor guy, he is absolutely ruthless toward Richie. Who throws it right back his way. It was more amusing than Richie’s jokes. He has a hunch that they were both showing off for Mike and El. 

Bill and his friends sitting in the booth aren’t safe from Richie’s terror either. He throws a joke out about Eddie’s mom, one only they laugh at and he pokes fun at Ben. Something about The New Kids On The Block? At this point, Will was too wrapped up in Bill to register it completely. It isn’t until Richie targets him during his act does he get Will’s full attention back.

“Now now, I’m not the only love bird on a date tonight,” he whistles while Mike makes a small protest from the table, “My good friend Big Bill is here tonight on a date. Ironically! With a guy also named William,” he pauses for a dramatic moment, “You see if I was on a date with a man named Richard it would be double the Dick but you see with my friend Bill, he’s the one getting double the Willys tonight.” 

There's a modest amount of laughter that he earns from the bar patrons. This is one of his more successful jokes of the night. Beverly is dying in their booth and Ben gives Will an apologetic look but he’s still smiling. Will wants to curl up and disappear before his face turns into a tomato. 

“F-fuck you, boy!” Bill yells but he’s barely fighting back a smug smile. He nudges Will with his hand resting on his shoulder, “Just ignore him, he’s a dickwad. We’re about to luh-leave anyway.”

A mixture of excitement and trepidation fills his stomach. On one hand, he has no idea what Bill has planned for them for the rest of the night which is exciting, and on the other, that’s exactly what worries him. Will Byers is a virgin. It’s just…never came up before. Being gay in a small town can do that.

But they just got over their awkward conversation bump, surely Bill isn’t expecting that to magically segway into them having sex? Because if so they’re just going to land right back into an awkward conversation when he has to fess up he’s a virgin and he doesn’t plan on losing it after one lukewarm date and even more lukewarm beer. 

Richie’s set comes to an end and everyone starts to part ways. Mike Hanlon, Eddie, Beverly, and Ben were going to another bar on the side of the city, and Mike Wheeler and Richie were going to tag along. Will’s Mike isn’t a bar person so he’s continuing to be surprised tonight by his friend’s decisions. El wants to go home- no surprise there, because she really isn’t a bar person and Stan insists on driving her back. Hopefully, she notices Stan’s obvious flirting on the drive.

Bill asks if he’d like to go with everyone to the next bar and it’s clear that he’s giving Will an out of being alone together. But the thing is- despite his reservations, he wants to see what Bill has planned for them. Bill doesn’t act like a guy who is going to try to pressure him into doing anything he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t seem like his style. 

He takes Bill’s hand, acting braver than he feels, “I just wanna hang out with you.”

The smile Bill gives him in response is beautiful. 

-

Bill doesn’t disclose much about where they’re going when they crawl into his silver truck. Will didn’t know he had a vehicle, he never drives to The Bean and when he asks about this, Bill just waves him off, saying that driving in New York is too stressful for his tastes. 

On the way over Will tries to get some information out of him about where they’re heading as the excitement builds. Bill appears very sure of himself that this is a place that Will is going to be very happy about. To say he is intrigued would be an understatement. 

Curiously it’s some type of office building Bill drives them up to. He jumps out of the car without a word and heads towards the doors, leaving Will no choice but to follow him. The temperature has dropped significantly and even with his large coat, he crowds close to Bill as he unlocks the glass doors. 

Bill gets it unlocked and heads inside, turning back to Will when he doesn’t follow him, “You coming?”

He nervously glances at his surroundings, reading the sign “Gray’s Design Company Coming Soon,” painted onto one of the front windows. Trespassing wasn’t something he considered he would be doing tonight. 

“Are you sure we should be here?” The last thing he wants is to be is a ‘Nervous Nellie’ as Mike has called him before but…they’re trespassing. 

Bill must somehow read his mind, dangling the key he used to get in, “It’s okay, we have per-permission.” He’s still a little nervous but he follows Bill inside. 

The inside of the building is gutted, and clearly being renovated. Plastic sheets litter the floor and hang from the ceiling and briefly, Will is reminded of that one episode of Dexter Max had forced him to watch.

Will only glances away from Bill for a second but when he looks back Bill’s gone. Okay, now he’s starting to panic. “Bill?! Where’d you go?!”

A hand on his shoulder startles him, making him yelp. Bill looks down at him with a smile full of mirth, “Keep up, I want you to s-see this.”

“You’re not taking me somewhere to kill me right?” He’s only half joking. 

Bill rolls his eyes, and takes his hand, “Come on.”

They push through two more plastic sheets and Will sees why Bill was being impatient to show him. The sight before him takes his breath away. 

It’s the first actual room they’ve walked into and it is filled to the brim with art. There are canvases in stacks leaning against the walls, sculptures on pedestals, and tables filled with sketches. The art styles are all different signifying this isn’t the collection of one person. He just has to touch. 

The first table he approaches has sketches all done in charcoal. They’re smudged from rubbing against each other but he can make out the sketches of the people. Just strangers that are going about their everyday life, probably unaware of their portrait being created. 

On the next table are unframed works of watercolor. All vivid and seeming to leap off the page. Some depict still life while some are settings. Places pulled from the artist’s mind, maybe places that they wish they could visit or just simply places that are not real but still beautiful all the same. These are his favorites. 

He swivels on his heel, a watercolor work of a river still in his hand, to look back at Bill. He’s still standing at the entrance, watching him with a small smile. It makes his whole heart flutter.

“What is this place?” he asks, gesturing to the whole room.

Bill comes to stand by him, taking the painting in Will’s hand to examine, “Ben’s boss bought this place for his architecture firm and apparently the basement was filled with this stuff. Whoever owned the building before ap-aparently was an avid art collector.”

“A ‘collector’ is putting it lightly, this is more like a hoarder’s work. This is insane,” He walks over to a sculpture of a woman’s head made from clay, “This stuff belongs in an art show or a museum! I have never seen so much art in one room before!” He pauses for a moment, “What do they plan on doing with all of this?”

“Well Ben’s boss planned on tossing it all since most of it isn’t from any famous artists,” Will’s heart sinks, “But Ben convinced him to donate it to an art school, make the business look good,” he finishes.

“Yes, good publicity in exchange for not throwing away a collection of people’s hard work,” he doesn’t mean to sound bitter but some people will just never understand art. It’s just a thing that takes up space in their new office building. 

Bill just hums, “Well I did manage to convince Ben to let you take your pick of the art here before it gets donated.” He hands Will back the painting. 

He feels as if he’s a kid in a candy store and his mom just said he could get whatever he wants. “I can take whatever I want? Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent, you have a deep appreciation for art and you’ll actually care about these pieces,” He stands in front of him and Will realizes how close they've gotten. Bill reaches out and tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear, his hand lingering, “I’m really suh-sorry about earlier by the way. You make me nervous.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I don’t date often because most people also make me nervous,” he leans into Bill’s hand, remembering what Richie had said earlier about Bill’s ex and how he has hesitations about people getting to know the real him. He's not going to be one of those people that 'burn' him.

“I’m honored to be your date tonight then,” Bill murmurs.

They’re so close their breaths are mingling and right when Bill’s eyes flutter shut and he leans down to kiss him, Will slyly ducks out from under his arm, “Come on! We got art to go through!” 

Bill sighs, amused, “Okay where do you want to start?”

For the next hour, they go through every canvas and every sketch. Will pays no attention to the sculptures as he doesn’t think he’ll have room for them in his dorm.

During this he learns that Bill used to sketch a lot when he was younger before diving into writing and like his writing, he would draw horror. Bill ends up taking home a sketch of a rib cage with flowers blooming through the ribs. He still has a passion for macabre works of art. 

Will on the other hand takes home a painting of a lonely cabin scene and two sketches, one of a beautiful man with wings and another of a bed of flowers. Plus he took the watercolor painting of the river that he first grabbed. Honestly he was holding back.

“I can’t believe you didn’t want that painting of the naked chicken,” Bill says as he loads Will's painting into the backseat of his truck.

“It was a featherless chicken, not a naked one,” he corrects, still a little disgusted by how detailed it was. He jumps into the passenger seat as Bill is getting into the driver's seat.

“That st-still counts as naked.” 

“Why do you do that? Trip on words sometimes?” He realizes how insensitive that sounds too late, “Wait! You don’t have to answer that! I’m sorry!”

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re a lot nicer about asking about it than s-some people,” Bill reaches over and takes a hold of his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “I used to have a horrible st-stutter and I’ve almost got it under control, it still comes out I guess.”

Will squeezes his hand back, “I think it’s kinda cute- if that’s okay to say?”

“That’s okay to say,” he raises their entwined hands and kisses the back of Will’s hand. His lips feel soft. 

He feels the need to share something intimate about himself. What did Richie say, talk about the deep stuff? Fuck it, he’s going to do that.

“I’m a virgin.” Well, that’s one way to say it, Will.

Bill’s eyebrow furrows, “I wasn’t planning on trying to get into your p-pants if that’s what-”

“No no no,” shit he made Bill get defensive, he honestly could have said that better, “I didn’t think that you were! Just you shared something personal about yourself and I wanted to do that too! Earlier Richie told me to talk about the ‘deep stuff’ with you and- God I don’t know; I feel like I just messed this all up.”

A big hand cups the side of his face, forcing him to meet Bill’s eye, “You didn’t mess anything up,” Bill soothes, “And Richie is an idiot but I’m glad he told you we should talk about the deep stuff. Eventually, we’re going to have to have a conversation about your luh-limits in the bedroom and what you’re comfortable with and you will be the one to set those,” Will positively colors at that but it takes a weight off his chest he hadn’t realized was there, “I’m happy you shared that with me, thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that.”

Will knows that when he loses his virginity, he wants to lose it to Bill but like Bill said, that’s a conversation for another time. Right now all he can focus on is, “You said ‘eventually’ implying you want to see me more?”

Bill smiles at him boyishly, “As if that was a question. I p-plan on annoying you for a long while, hope you’re okay with that.”

His entire being is beaming. The boys Will likes aren’t supposed to return his feelings- especially not boys like Bill Denrbough. “Yeah, I think I’m more than okay with that.” 

Neither of them wants to move despite how late it’s getting. Foolishly the romantic side of him is thinking about how he doesn’t want this night to end. Their hands are still linked over the middle console and Bill’s hand is still cupping his cheek, his thumb brushing against the side of his face. 

“Can I kiss you?” Bill asks softly.

In lew of words, Will just nods his head. Sure he’s been kissed before. Once in middle school by Sally Mae behind the bleachers, the kiss that solidified that he liked boys, and then once in a game of spin the bottle with Lucas. Both of them were chased and lacked any of the emotion that Bill has when he kisses him. His lips are soft.

He has to remind himself to close his eyes. Bill takes the lead and presses and disconnects their lips a couple of times, pulling back minutely to nudge his nose against his and he gets the hint, he starts to move his lips as well. He can feel Bill smiling. It’s when he’s getting the hang of this that Bill swipes his tongue against his bottom lip. It felt foreign yet good and he gasps when Bill does it again. Bill’s tongue travels into his mouth slowly, licking and mapping it out. Will lets go of his hand and grasps his shoulders, trying to ground himself. He doesn’t have much to compare this to but he thinks Bill is a very good kisser. The noises he’s making he would find a little embarrassing any other time but right now he's not in any capacity to care. 

Disappointedly, Bill breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against his, “I really like you, William Byers.”

Will blushes, “I really like you too, William Denbrough.” 

A/N: AHA okay you can tell that for some reason I really struggled to find my footing writing this and with the dialogue but,,,this is my second draft of the chapter and I'm still not happy with it and I didn't have it in my to start over.

That being said I am really happy with how the ending turned out. I love soft boys.

This is the last chapter for WillBill as in part three we will be seeing how the rest of Wheelzier and Elstan's night went...that one will definitely be at least rated M bc Wheelzier :0

Thank you for reading! I always appreciate the people that read my rare pair nonsense!

#this sht better show up in the tags so help me #i post rarepairs #i need the advertisement #willbill #wheelzier #elstan #will byers #bill denbrough #mike wheeler #richie tozier #stanley uris #eleven hopper #it 2017 #it 2019 #stranger things #stranger things 4

[grapesodatozier]

I for one have been thinking about a Wheelizer AU where Mike Wheeler and Stan are professors at the same university and Richie always shows up to annoy Stan but one accidentally stumbles into Mike's classroom (which is like the next one down from Stan's) instead...and proceeds to do that every time after. The man is determined to get a date with Mike and Mike is like no way! but we all know Mike and how he is

also Mike for the life of him can't figure out how Richie and Stan are best friends, and he likes hanging out with Stan bc Richie is always there and he still doesn't get it

little au but i thought I would share

sammmm thank you for this omg. okay first of all i do have an elstan professors au that i posted about once so i'm imagining this in that bc mike, el, and stan all being professors together means so much to me lol (also wheelzier elstan double dates are simply too good lol)

okay i'm picturing mike as an english professor in this one, maybe a creative writing professor, and his office is next to stan's in the main academic building. and richie's always bothering stan in his office, barging in even when the door's closed bc he knows he's allowed no matter how much shit stan gives him for it. but the offices are on the fourth floor, and richie gets bored waiting for elevators, so he's just climbed three flights of stairs, so his mind is a little occupied thinking about how much he hates stairs, and he's got a new bit he wants to run by stan, so he's distracted and counts the doors wrong and doesn't read the name plate, and he's in the middle of saying, "staniel my maniel i have struck comedy fucking gold" when he realizes the guy at the desk is not, in fact, his best friend stanley uris, but instead one of the most beautiful men richie has ever seen.

since mike teaches creative writing, his classes are pretty small--usually no bigger than 15-20 people. it's also halfway through the semester at this point, so he knows all of his students. this man is not one of his students, and he has not knocked, and mike's office hours ended ten minutes ago. this person is also very loud. all of these things ruffle mike's feathers. so he has an incredibly bitchy look on his face when he asks, "can i help you?" and richie falls in love immediately lmao

but yeah el and stan start dating eventually and richie absolutely jumps at the double date opportunities. also, richie gets kicked out of stan's office sometimes when el and stan are spending time together, so what else is he gonna do besides bother his friend's cute work neighbor?

fast forward and they actually get to talking about their interests bc richie's a comedian but he's interested in starting a narrative-form podcast, and the ways in which format affects content across various narrative media is mike's favorite subject, so he can't help but nerd out about it, and richie is actually pretty smart and funny, and maybe mike could use a little more loud in his life (not that he's immediately ready to admit that). richie also blatantly flirts with mike in a way mike has never really experienced before, and it's new and unexpected and he's so surprised to realize that he likes the attention and the fawning and all of richie's antics. richie pays attention in a similar way to how mike pays attention, but mike's gotten good at deflecting attention yet here richie is starting down into his core and it's incredibly uncomfortable for mike at first bc it highlights a yearning he hadn't even known he'd buried. richie just... makes mike feel things he hadn't let himself know he could feel before which scares mike but is so so beautiful and exciting in the long run

el is also very overwhelmed by richie at first, but not even mike or stan can keep up with her feminist theory talk like richie can, and he makes her laugh, and she likes that he's openly strange and off-beat in public, so they become fast friends. she also picks up on mike's crush on richie before mike even lets himself acknowledge it and you know she teases him for it so much. cue elstan scheming to get wheelzier together <333

#ugh i missed them all sm <3 #wheelzier #elstan

[danzafila]

lollol the ending of AG ch 8 is hilarious. everyone's like 'hopefully we can end this war once and for all when we try to save arianrhod! sure would love to stop fighting!'

and then it immediately cuts to claude and co being like 'we need to plan accordingly to take on whoever comes out on top bc surely, regardless of who it is, they'll come for us next!'

bruh the kingdom just wants to be left alone (so they can actually deal with their myriad internal problems instead of these constant threats of invasion/conquest). why are you equating them fighting off the empire with the country instigating a continental war to enable their conquest lmao

#oh yeah i'm really seeing why people are saying they made claude dumb as bricks in this game lmao #''we can't stand in the crossfire between the kingdom and the empire forever.'' #dude you *just* said what a boon it is that the empire's fighting another front against another country on the other side of the continent #??? literally WHAT crossfire what on earth are you talking about bruh #sometimes feels like 3hopes claude drank the ed/elstan juice lmao #/ #// #/// #//// #///// #sto parlando #wth talking tag #wth spoilers

[sayonaramidnight]

And so, they begin a tour of the Hawkers' Alley, with particular attention to shinies, flowers, clothing (the more frills, the better!) and model ships in bottles. Not much shopping is actually done; the very sight of the multitude of wares on display leaves Arya starry-eyed and breathless.

"I didn't think making new memories would be so much fun," she confesses, as they move on to jewellery stands and Helvi names all the precious stones for her. "I might have lived all my life in this city, but in a way, I'm seeing all this for the first time. And it feels amazing!"

One of the jewellers, a dark-skinned woman in her early thirties, gives an unimpressed stare when they approach her stand. "Well, well. I thought you would show up sooner or later."

"Were we expected? Do you often check up on your competition here, Helvi?" Arya asks with a giggle.

"You could say that, girl," the jeweller cuts in before Helvi can answer the question; her accent is familiar, albeit quite uncommon in Limsa Lominsa. "My name is Enid and I believe you met my son Elstan last night. He claimed you unleashed a swarm of angry wespes at his silly crybaby of a friend."

"I bet he did." Helvi stares back at her. Running into one doting mother while fleeing from another - of course it was bound to happen. "He struck me as a lad who had a lot to say about everything."

"Ha! My boy is indeed talkative and his imagination runs wild when not restrained. But he should be smart enough to recognize your gear. I thought I taught him well of the history of my homeland."

"Homeland? Are you... Gyr Abanian, madam?" Arya asks timidly.

"I was... once. Which is why I know what you're trying to do there - and I wonder what for. Are you playing pretend without knowing the true meaning of your game?"

"We're not playing any game!" Arya raises her voice with indignation, all timidness instantly gone. "You should have seen Helvi fight off all those wespes, while X'rhun was working hard to heal H'nethi and me! With real red magic!"

"So you say. Elstan did mention a Miqo'te man - the leader? Another red mage wanna-be?"

"Not a wanna-be, but a true Crimson Duelist who's been teaching us all he knows!"

"The Crimson Duelists were freedom fighters. How can a sheltered princess like you relate to that?" Enid's voice drips with bitterness and something else - regret? Spite? "That's an experience which can only be gained, not taught. What does he expect from the likes of you?"

"And what do you know about my experience? Or Helvi's?" It is plain to see Arya is intent on having the last word in this argument. "If our mentor deems us worthy of his teachings, it's all that matters!"

"She's right, you know," Helvi's voice sounds calm in contrast, but no less firm. "We may not share a history, but is that supposed to stop him from sharing his experience? Would you rather see the tradition die?"

"I'd rather see it live on where it belongs, that's all. Among those who truly understand it."

That's the point, lady: most of them are long dead. That's what she should say. That's what she is going to say. And yet, she clenches the hilt of her rapier and spews out something else entirely. "If you're so fond of your homeland, then why are you here, instead of going back and fighting for it?" And there it is. This time there's no armour-clad figure to stick around and say these lines for her. As she finishes speaking, she closes her eyes to isolate herself from Enid's shocked stare.

So much red behind the eyelids.

"I... Hmph." The jeweller's voice seems to come from afar. "You've changed, Herlfryd. Now that you're some sort of adventurer, you think everything is that easy and simple, don't you?"

The Warrior of Light opens her eyes and looks around, at the streets of the city she used to call home. "No," she says quietly before she walks away. "On the contrary."

The mood for shopping is all gone and there's no point of staying at the market. As they are leaving, Arya takes her friend's arm with a worried expression; Helvi notices it and gently pats her hand.

"Mistress Enid spoke as if she was quite familiar with you. Do you know her?"

"Gods damn me if I remember." Helvi shakes her head with a mirthless chuckle. How many more Lominsans who knew her in the past have the same opinion about her as that woman does? Hells, what if they used to be good friends? What if she was right and they play red mages like ignorant children?...

No.

"Before you ask," Helvi says after a long, heavy sigh, "I, too, lost my memories several years ago and some of them still haven't come back."

"You-?!" Arya's eyes widen in shock. "How did it happen? Were you drugged, like me?"

"No, I..." A long pause; should she tell this girl who relies on her so much that she shut off and rejected her past? "It might've had something to do with magic. You see, I had no magic abilities; they only appeared after the memory loss and-"

"I wouldn't have thought we had this much in common... Is that why you're being so caring? Because you can relate?"

"I'm helping you, because I can relate. I'm caring, because you're adorable." Helvi corrects her with a smirk. "And you've got quite a spirit, after all, talking back at her like that. Shall I tell X'rhun what a devoted defender he's got?"

"Please, there's no need for that!... Unless I tell him I wasn't the only one?"

"No, thanks. I didn't say those things for the applause."

"Neither did I. Now that I know what a kind and honourable man he is, I couldn't bear to hear someone judge him without even meeting him in person." Arya lets out a sigh that turns into a chuckle. "I know he thinks I'm afraid of him, but I'm honestly not - it's just that at our first meeting, he seemed so intense and... intimidating."

"You can say that again," Helvi replies with a smile, recalling her own first impression of her mentor, which has remained unchanged. Truly, there is intensity in everything he does - and passion, the kind of passion she herself once had - and, ironically, his icy blue eyes could burn one to ashes as easily as warm one's heart. Perhaps that was what made her follow him in the first place - not the magic, not even the hat?

Follow even if uninvited, damn it.

-

(AO3)

#FFXIV red mage #arya gastaurknan #thanalan tinies #x'rhun tia #context is irrelevant #or is it

[option-taken]

Garden of Tranquillity

While in Varrok I spoke to Queen Ellamaria, who wanted to build a pretty garden to surprise her husband King Roald. She gave me a list of what she wanted.

But first I needed to see The Wise Old Man because my diplomacy skills needed some work. When I spoke to him he upgraded the ring of Charos.

First item on my list are Delphiniums so I headed off to speak to Elstan. After Charming him he wanted me to grow some marigolds.

Up next I needed to speak to Lyra for Pink and Yellow Orchids. She wanted me to grow some onions so nothing too difficult.

Then I needed to speak to Kragan for some snowdrops. He wanted me to grow some cabbages.

The next seeds I needed where Burthorpe Vine. There was just one problem the Burthorpe vines where diseased. So I needed to make a strong plant cure by adding rune dust to a standard plant cure. With the vines cured the seeds where mine.

Up next I needed White, Red and Pink Roses. Brother Althric scolded me for having The Ring of Charos and told me to throw it down the well. After that he allowed me to get the seeds. I then used a fishing rod to get the Ring of Charos. In your face Brother Althric you sucker.

The Queen also wanted a White Tree, so I needed to talk to Dantaera. She told me the tree was the last one of it's kind and it was dying. I took a clipping anyway.

I then needed a statue of Saradomin. I robbed that from Falador and a statue of a king. I robbed that from Lumbridge.

With the statues in place I then needed to plant the seeds and wait for them to grow. Then I needed to fetch King Roald and with that The Garden of Tranquillity quest was complete.

#rs3 #runescape #achievement #mmo #quest

[sxcredstories]

Prologue of The Book of Rachele

The rain fell heavily against the leaves of the trees, sliding off and splashing against the backs of the young Lycans rushing through the woods. They had their hands over their heads, trying to shield themselves from the relentless rain. Thunder began to roll in from afar. The Lycan children saw lightning up ahead. 

The Lycan boy with black hair and gleaming yellow eyes scoffed. They had to be faster, and they would get stranded in the storm at this pace.

“Hurry up, you guys!” Z’ev said to the three that were behind him. The wind picked up, and the howling began to drown out his small voice. “I don’t want to get caught in the storm!!”

“Catch up, Rae!” Tetra called out to the other girl in their little group. Rachele was much weaker than the other Lycans. Walking up the steep hill, she lost her footing and stumbled forward, waving her arms frantically to regain her balance. Z’ev watched the pathetic display, stopping to observe. He huffed with annoyance. He would've crossed his arms impatiently if the rain had not been coming down so hard. 

“Z’ev.” The other boy of the group, also with black hair but having blue eyes instead of yellow, walked up to Z’ev. Elstan kept his back to Rachele so she couldn’t overhear them. “Let’s just go.”

“Excuse me?” Tetra hissed under her breath with disbelief.

“We’re gonna get caught in the storm if we don’t hurry up.”

“Are you saying just to leave her?” Tetra demanded.

While they glared at each other in silent debate, Z’ev looked back at the struggling Rachele. His head jerked up when he heard more thunder, this time closer. 

“Let’s go.”

Rachele stood back up, regaining her balance. She shook her hair, the water damping her thick, curly hair. Rachele dusted the dirt from her knees and turned her purple eyes to where the other three were. She saw them walking further away without stopping. Her heart sank with fear. 

‘Why aren’t they slowing down?’

Were they leaving her behind, or was seeing them in the growing darkness just getting more challenging? She tried to walk faster to catch up to them, but her thin legs struggled against the steep hill.

“G-Guys!” she called out. None of them looked back. “Guys! Guys, w-wait up!”

Her foot got caught on a root from one of the old trees along the path. She tripped and fell flat on her face with a cry. She coughed, having gotten a mouthful of dust and dirt. She spat some dirt from her tongue and looked back up.

“G-guys!” She coughed between her words. “Wait! Don’t leave me behind!”

She stood back up, on the verge of tears, as their figures disappeared among the trees. She tried to run after them, but when she lost sight of them, she realized she was utterly lost in the dark trail in the woods.

“Guys…?”

The rain was picking up hard. Droplets felt like rocks on Rachele's dark skin. She pressed on, trying to find the others again. She tried to run but quickly lost her breath, and her legs became shaky and weak. Her lungs burned. Her throat felt like it was collapsing on itself. Tears mingled with the raindrops on her face. Fear suffocated her when she realized they had abandoned her.

“Guys? Guys?!”

A crash… and the last thing Rachele remembered seeing was a painfully bright flash of light strike the ground before her, burning her vision away.

Copyright © 2024 A.I. Benstayn All rights reserved. This prologue may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author. For permission requests, write to the author @sxcredstories OR @sxcrednightmxre.

#sxcredstories #draftdash #writeblr #author #fantasy writing #queer writers #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #fantasy #writer things #creative writing #original story

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

E*elstans get a life challenge.

Yeah. :/ No idea how people can spend so much time enjoying getting involved with things that have nothing to do with them and being so hateful toward other people. Even if I can understand being angry about people tagging hate in pro tags, it's another thing entirely when they seek out totally unrelated content and make it about something it's not. My post wasn't even tagged which means that person just searched out keywords that the non-tagging system will pick up (and also replied with nothing to do with the post and made up a scenario about the point of the post, then tried to attack me for uwu hating their ship uwu, except I don’t hate that ship so welcome to talking out of your ass about a person you literally don’t know a thing about).

Like, honestly people, get a job or something because you evidently have too much time and spare energy. e.e

I'm baffled we even have people like that in the world. I shouldn't be surprised after I've been part of the Naruto and AoT fandoms in my time on Tumblr, but ngl I'd actually genuinely tell you I think the stans in the Houses fandom are actually worse than both of those fandoms' problems combined. The stans here have been some of the worst people I've seen in my entire life.

I can't even say "maybe they're mostly teenagers" because even as a teenager basically all the people around me knew better. Bullying pretty much stopped when I was in high school. You know how kids bully other kids in grade and middle school if you have those types of schools in your area (1-5 or 1-6 is grade school in my area, and 6-8 or 7-8 is middle)? Like, when I was in high school nobody did that shit anymore. Nobody cared anyone. Either my high school was relatively tame or people in that age group just don't care anymore, but I've been to two high schools and nobody did the shit these people do (and the youngest of them probably don't want to embarrass themselves in front of 17-18 year olds tbh).

Even then though I can't fathom how people can be so malicious, and over such stupid shit. These people aim to get random people they've never met off social media through bullying and by totally destroying them. I mean really, what the fuck. No idea how can anyone grow into being such a disgusting person. :/

Really sucks because I love Houses but it's infamous now because of those exact people.

#DCB Ask #like no really what kind of person do you have to be to behave like they do #I feel bad for actual fans of the character who don't act like that bc it's the stans who are LOUD #and it makes it seem like the entire character fanbase behaves that way when they don't #and bc of them people are cautious toward any fan of the character #I've met fans of the character who are actually AFRAID to admit they're a fan #bc they expect to be lumped in with the stans and seen as someone who behaves like they do #I think the fact that those people are genuinely concerned abt being seen that way #is a pretty legit and serious thing bc there are people who scared to be seen as a bully when they're not #simply bc they like a character whose stans aim to harm others #honestly the shit the stans do is a borderline crime too if not actually a crime #bc yes cyberbullying has its lines and there's a point when it becomes stalking and overly harmful #I'm just baffled how people can even become like this and think it's okay to do this shit #they also seem to have very extreme problems with telling the difference between fiction and reality #bc they really do act like there's a real war between the character fandoms #and like they have to defend their waifu so she can win her war and kill us all and make uwu change #except her change is not going to help anyone in the real world so idk wtf they're attacking people for

[phillipsgraves]

17 + dreas die

17. a description of your OC’s family by a future historian

Much of the Cousland family history was lost during the siege of the castle, burned and lost forever to time when the library was burned down. Fortunately, through the efforts of the Hero of Ferelden, one Andreas Cousland, and the family scribe, a young woman named Ceridwen Pembroke, their family's legacy would not be completely lost to time.

The Teyrnir of Highever, once a part of the Arling of Amaranthine, and now the ancestral home of the Couslands, has stood the test of time throughout the Ages. Since the death of Bann Conobar Elstan, the land has since been claimed by the captain of the guard, one Ser Sarim Cousland, and the land has been in the Cousland family's control ever since.

In more recent times, Highever had been under the watchful gaze of two of Ferelden's remaining teyrns, Teyrn Bryce and Tyrna Eleanor Cousland, up until the usurption of the traitorous Arl Rendon Howe and the following siege against Castle Cousland. They are survived by their four children; Fergus, Andreas, Elissavet, and Diantha Cousland.

Presently, Highever's day to day is closely supervised by the eldest Cousland, Teyrn Fergus. Twins Andreas and Elissavet are never far apart, though their duties as Warden-Commander and Queen, respectively, occasionally separate them at times. Diantha is very often seen in the Orlesian palace, maintaining diplomatic ties between the kingdom and Highever.

— An excerpt from In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi

#here take this #oc: andreas cousland #my writing #technically? #asks #jendoe

[faroreswinds]

"Rhea preaches eugenics" E*elstans back at it with their personalized copies of 3 Houses lol

It's just the same old arguments I have seen time and time again and they never hold any water.

I'm willing to change my mind, provided your argument is clad tight. I'll listen to whatever anyone has to say as long as their arguments are rooted in game facts, and do not rely on attacking my character.

#Edelgard discourse #anon asks

[nycskygirl99]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: ABERCROMBIE & FITCH•JEANS.

[silvestromedia]

SAINTS OF THE DAY FOR APRIL 06 St. Sixtus I, Roman Catholic Pope and Martyr, during the reign of Hadrian c. 115-c. 125. ST. PETER OF VERONA, DOMINICAN AND MARTYR St. William of Eskilsoe, Roman Catholic Missionary. Born at Saint-Germain, France, circa 1125, he served as a canon at the church of St. Genevieve, Paris, under the great Abbot Suger until about 1170, when he was sent to Denmark with the mission of reforming the canons at Eskilsoe at the request of the bishop of Roskilde. He became abbot there and, during his three decades among the Danes, he also reformed many other communities. He also founded the abbey of St. Thomas, in Zeeland. He died in Denmark. Feastday Apr.6 Bl. Pierino Morosini. Roman Catholic woman. Pierina made a private vow of chastity to God and was attacked by a would-be rapist, and died soon after. St. Celestine I, Roman Catholic Pope. The founder of the papal diplomatic service and sent Palladius to evangelize Ireland in 431 St. Elstan, 981 A.D. Bishop of Winchester, England, Benedictine, celebrated as a model of blind obedience. Elstan succeeded St. Ethelwold as bishop and as abbot. St. Berthane, 840 A.D. A bishop of Scotland, called Ferda-Leithe , "the Man of Two Countries." Berthane was a monk of lona and the bishop of Kirkwall in the Orkneys, Scotland. He died in Ireland and was buried at Irishmore in Gaiway Bay, hence his name. He is sometimes listed as Berchan. St. Brychan, King of Wales, undocumented but popular saint. Brychan is credited with having twentyfour children, all saints. St. Ulehad. Patron saint of Liechulched church on Anglesey Island, Wales, also called Uchal in some lists. ST GALLA, ROMAN WIDOW

[antisociallilbrat]

The Williams Part One

Part Two

Read on Ao3

Ships: Will Byer/Bill Denbrough and background Richie Tozier/Mike Wheeler and Eleven Hopper/Stanley Uris

Rating: This first part is rated G- other two parts are rated M

Summary: The story where Will and Bill pine over each other helplessly in a coffee shop and Mike and Richie are meddling little shits.

Now that they've met they've gotten past the awkward stage...right?

There’s a coffee loft in downtown New York that has been humbly dubbed “The Bean'' by its loyal customers. The real name of the shop is printed on the window front, but the font is so faded that it’s hard to tell what it originally said. The name “The Bean” came about because, unlike the painted name of the loft, a big faded cartoon coffee bean is still visible on the window pane.

No one knows why the paint of the Bean has withstood through the years and not the paint of the name. At this point, it doesn’t matter. The Bean is cracked and dirty with age and it just fits .

The Bean is just out of the way enough to be an inconvenience to tourists but for locals, it’s a hot spot. It has a comforting atmosphere with its mismatch couches and corner tables. The furniture is a mixed drab of whatever the Owner was able to find at the thrift store. They have the same two baristas who never mess up an order and the place plays smooth jazz softly over the speakers. 

This place is perfect for an artist like Will Byers. 

Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon he heads there after his morning class, his satchel full of sketchbooks and pens. He is a very patient man but his roommate has a way of working his nerves so it’s easier to work somewhere else. It’s like the guy has never heard of headphones- and he's always playing some garage band music.

The barista, a sweet girl named Addy, rings up his usual as he walks in the door, the ‘ding!’ of the bell behind him. The smell of cinnamon warms his nose and he already starts to relax. It’s reminiscent of home.

He pays for his hot chai tea; two dollars and fifty cents, with a small “, thank you” to Addy as he heads to his little corner. Mike may give him shit for hating the taste of coffee and still hanging out at the coffee loft, but Mike has never tried The Bean’s chai tea. 

There’s a corner of the loft that has this old loveseat couch and a coffee table in front of it. When Will first started coming here he would sit on the floor with his back against the couch and do his work on the table. When the Owner saw this, Mr. Brandis, he insisted on getting Will an easel for him to work on instead. 

Will tried to tell the older man that it was too much but Mr. Brandis had money to blow so he bought Will one anyways. Mr. Brandis hasn’t been in the shop much anymore and Addy tells him it’s because his arthritis is getting worse in his old age. A shame, Will genuinely enjoyed Mr. Brandis’s presence.

The easel is already set up for him and he pulls his biggest sketchbook out and sets it on it. With the easel, he does get to sit on the couch now which is nice. With his drink warming his hands, he scrutinizes his work. It’s his art midterm, the first one of his freshman year, and he’s a little nervous. 

Going to school for art is such a cliche. The eye rolls and the ‘oh that’s…nice’ he’s had to hear from high school teachers and other grown-ups. He knows. It’s just that he couldn’t bring himself to go to school for something he didn’t care about. That said, he’d rather not fall into the “starving artist stereotype”. If he can create a good-, no; a great piece for his midterm, it feels like this could be worth it. 

A silly notion, he knows. 

Right now he’s just in the sketching phases. The prompt for the midterm is “Character of light.” He doesn’t have a clue how his project is going to come out. Character of light?- Maybe he should paint his mom. 

There’s a "ding!" of the door and Will looks up, is it really that time already?

There’s another reason Will frequents The Bean. A guy that looks around his age, who shows up every day at noon, orders a different drink every time and sits in the same spot across the shop. Will studies him as he chats with Addy, who laughs at something he said. He’s getting some iced drink despite the dropping temperature outside.

When he turns away from the counter with his drink their eyes lock. The guy gives him a polite smile and Will smiles back; before going to his booth. The same routine every Tuesday and Thursday.

Will has affectionately dubbed this stranger “the Writer”. At his booth, he pulls out his laptop and will type away at something. Will has wondered many times what exactly he’s writing. It’s a fiction story, he thinks, because the Writer always has notebooks on the table too. Like he’s keeping track of details in a story. On second thought that could work for writing non-fiction as well but this guy doesn’t look like a boring non-fiction writer. He can’t explain it, he just knows. 

Dressed in flannel (always flannel) with his ripped jeans and his auburn hair tucked up underneath a beanie, the occasional strands escaping. He looks so mundane but to the careful eye, you can tell he looks like someone who has something to say. Will hopes he says it. Hopes he gets to hear it.

That would mean talking to him and that’s not something he’ll do. Will Byers doesn’t talk to strangers. People he doesn’t even know the name of. No no no, he’s perfectly content secretly pining over the Writer from his little corner.

Will sighs and gets to work on his midterm as the Writer boots up his laptop. Once the screen is on and he’s clacking away, the Writer won’t look up for anything. Zeroed in on his work, like Will needs to be. He can’t help it! He’s an artist, he likes pretty things! And the Writer is very pretty.

For the next two hours Will sketches and erases portraits of his mom. Would it be too cheesy to choose his mom for this prompt? He could do his sister El, but that may be just as cheesy. At the end of it, all he’s accomplished is to make himself frustrated. It’s time to go home. He glances at the Writer one last time as he always leaves before him.

He picks up his things and politely says goodbye to Addy as he throws his drink away. Maybe he’ll get lucky and his roommate will have gone out for the night. 

The New York air is cold on the tip of his nose. Mid-October was bringing in that cold air with a vengence. 

“Hey! Wait up!”

Thinking of October he has no idea who he’s going for Halloween. Does the Party want to do a group costume or have they outgrown that? He doesn’t think- A hand grabs his shoulder and Will jerks back. Is this his first mugging? 

No, it’s not a mugging because when he turns around it’s the Writer standing there. His cheeks are red and he’s panting and he’s holding Will’s dorm pass.

“You dropped this back there, I figured you weren’t getting home without it.” The man explains.

“I- thank you.” After months they’ve never said a word to each other, just shared little smiles as the writer got his coffee. 

“Just being a good citizen,” he laughs. There’s something to his voice. It’s slow and he can’t tell if it’s just because this guy has an accent or what. Before handing the pass back to Will he looks at it, nodding appreciatively, “NYU, that’s a good school.” 

He hands the pass back to him, their fingertips just briefly brush, “It is, thanks," he dismisses. 

The Writer smiles at him, “Well ss-see you Thursday!” and heads back the way he came, back towards The Bean. 

Will stands there for a minute with a blush on his cheeks and stunned at his own stupidity. “It is”? He couldn’t have thought to ask the guy if he went to school there too? Start a conversation? He now knows the guy knows his schedule too but that could mean anything. God, he feels like an idiot.

-

Bill Denbrough is an idiot. 

He sits there, staring at his laptop screen and chewing at his fingernails. Why did he grab Art guy? Cute Art guy to be exact. He looked like he scared the guy half to death.

After months of his romantic pinning, he couldn’t stop himself from taking the chance. When he saw Art guy’s dorm pass fall out of his back pocket as he was leaving it was like fate. The universe was saying, “Now’s your chance Denbrough,” and he fucking blew it! Very Bill of him as Richie would say.

And why did he come off as a stalker?! “NYU, that’s a nice school”?! He dropped out of that school! That’s not even the worst part, the pass was in his hand and he didn’t check the name. Now the guy is stuck being dubbed ‘Art guy’. Dammit, Denbrough! The guy probably thinks he’s a creep. 

Groaning, he slams his laptop shut. The words aren’t coming to him as steadily as they usually are. Maybe he calls it an early night and sees if Richie is down to grab a drink. A real drink, not whatever surgery crap Addy concocted today. Plus Richie is always down to drink, even on weekdays. Perks of being the two college dropouts of the Losers club.

“Bye Addy!” he yells over her shoulder. The poor girl is sweeping, getting an early start on closing since she has to do it all alone. The other barista (Diana? He thinks that’s her name.) hides in the back, playing on her phone. They really should hire someone else.

-

Thursday rolls around and Will is a bundle of nerves. He keeps going back and forth on whether or not he should go. But it would be weird to break his routine suddenly. Oh but his nerves! He knows he came off so cold the Writer! Should he apologize or would that be weird?

He’s still deciding when Mike texts him that he’s joining Will at The Bean. A blessing and a curse. If he chooses not to go now he’d have to explain why to Mike and he would just ask too many questions. His friends are aware of his routines, and Mike and El have joined him at the coffee loft a couple of times. El when she really needs to focus on her school work and Mike when he just needs to relax for a little.

Mike is already sitting in his spot when he arrives. Chai tea on the table alongside Mike’s usual order of americano and a blueberry muffin. Will takes his seat next to Mike. He doesn’t feel like drawing today, his legs are too jumpy. 

Mike being Mike immediately notices, “What’s got you in a bunch?”

“Nothing.”

In lew of arguing Mike hands him his chai tea. He regrets it, the cup shakes in his hand. Mike looks at him with a, “You gonna tell me now?” expression.

Will sips his tea in spite, “Seriously, I’m fine.”

Mike starts in on him, “And I’m straight. Was it class? Was professor Harlen a dick to you again? Or was it your roommate? I swear if he-”

“I’m fine!” he lowers his voice as he gets a grumpy look from an old lady in an armchair, “I’m sorry Miss Baker,” he whispers to her. She glares at him for a moment longer before returning to her Cosmo magazine. Mike looks at him expectantly. He sighs, “It’s this guy.”

“It’s this guy?” Mike repeats back to him, “What guy? Did he do something to you or something?”

For someone so smart, Mike can be a bit dense at times. “No he didn’t do anything to me!” he hurriedly whispers, “I just- I just happen to think he’s cute.”

This piques Mike’s interest. For a reason too. Will doesn’t often get ‘crushes’. He feels like such a schoolgirl. “And what happened with this cute guy?” Mike asks.

So, against his better judgment he tells Mike about the incident on Tuesday…and about how he’s been harboring a crush on this guy for months. He can’t look at Mike’s smug face. 

“Sooo that’s why you love this place,” the bastard teases.

“I love this place because Addy makes a good chai tea,” he says, getting defensive. There’s a telltale feeling of a stupid blush warming his cheeks.

Mike hums, “So when does Lover boy get here? You said he’s a regular here as you?”

Looking at his booth he realizes what time it is, “He’s um, he’s actually supposed to be here right now.” 

He must sense the apprehension in Will’s voice, “I’m sure he’s just running late, that’s all,” Mike tries to reassure.

But Will isn’t listening, he’s thinking about how he came off cold to the guy and now he’s ruined everything. The Writer is probably never going to come here again and that means he’s never going to get to see him again and he never even got to learn his name. God, he’s so stu- Oh wait. 

As Will’s eyes were scanning the room they landed on the outside window where the Writer is standing outside next to someone. He has his bag with him so it appears he’s coming in, just chatting to someone right now.

The tension leaves his shoulders and he nods his head towards the window, “Nevermind he’s outside talking to that guy. He’s the one in the gray flannel.”

“The one he’s smoking a cigarette with?” Mike asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Mmm yeah I guess.” Honestly, he’s only ever seen the Writer smoke a couple of times before and it’s always with this same guy before he comes inside sometimes. At first, he feared the other guy was the Writer's boyfriend but the pair have only ever playfully shoved each other when one of them had, apparently, said something stupid. They remind him of Lucas and Dustin. 

And there’s the fact that few and far in between, a couple of the Writer's friends have joined him in The Bean. None of them acts less platonic than the other.

The Writer finishes his cigarette before snubbing it out and tossing it. The other guy, his friend, ruffles the Writer’s hair before walking down the street. 

Will finds himself holding his breath as he pulls the door open. 

“At least he’s the cute one, would have seriously judged you if it was the other guy. The one with the curls looks like he needs a bath,” Mike says with a grimace, unaware of Will’s state.

He agrees noncommittally, trying not to stare but also can’t look away as the Writer places his order. The Writer got something hot today and when he turns around, as always, he makes eye contact with Will. 

Instead of rolling his eyes or scowling, or any of Will’s worst fears, the writer smiles and waves. Somehow Will manages to give a small wave back. The Writer, seeming pleased, grins one last time before heading to his booth.

Well…that was new.

“Oh ho ho,” Mike chuckles, “Looks like you didn’t come off too cold to him.”

“Shut up,” he scolds but he’s smiling. 

Mike taps his finger to his chin, “I think that you should go talk to him.”

It’s almost comical how quickly Will snaps his head towards Mike, stuttering, “Wh-what? It was just a wave, not an invitation to go bother him!” he whispers yells. He is not risking the Writer overhearing him.

“But it could be an invitation to go bother him, you don’t know,” Will glowers at him and Mike holds his hands up in defense, “I’m just saying! If you want to sit over here and continue to pine for even more months like a sad Disney Channel movie heroine, that’s your deal. You could at least ask his name,” Mike smiles mischievously, “Or I could go ask for his name.”

Will stands up, “Okay we’re leaving.”

“What why?”

“Because I don’t trust you. Come on, get up.”

Hopefully, it wasn’t as embarrassing as it was in his head, leading out Mike who was fighting a fit of giggles. Good to know his love life is funny. 

-

“You know you’re overthinking this right?”

Bill resists rolling his eyes at Stan, yes he knows this. He’s Bill, he overthinks everything, it’s a part of his personality at this point. “Doesn’t matter,” he disregards, “I’ve been s-smiled zoned.”

Stan does roll his eyes at him, “That’s not a thing, stop being overdramatic."

He huffs at his friend. Stan uses a coffee stirrer to push back his cuticles as he sits across from Bill at his booth. He doesn’t often accompany Bill to The Bean but today is a special occasion. Richie got a job here and today was his first day. 

A few weeks ago Mr. Brandis finally fired that lazy barista. Addy basically runs the shop anyway so it didn’t affect her but Mr. Brandis still insisted on filling the position. 

So Bill got Richie the job. He’s always complaining about having no money, free open mics don’t exactly pay, so now he has a day job. Bill’s happy for him but it is oh so infuriating. His friends are the worst. That’s it. 

Richie has been working all day so he was there when Addy took Art guy’s order, he knows his name and he won’t tell Bill. He texted Richie as he was walking here with Stan and Richie just sent him the middle finger again emoji. Then he asked again when he placed his order and the jerk just smiled smugly, miming zipping his lips. 

But he still smiled at Art guy when he turned around- and waved. Waving is part of their new routine now. He was so scared he fucked it up when he chased him down the street to return his pass that he decided to take a chance the next time he saw him. If Art guy waved back then hope wasn’t lost. Bill considers himself lucky that he did.

Now a whole month later, they have come to an impasse. The only new development was the wave. He still sits at his booth and pines over Art guy, stealing glances at him when he’s not looking. At his point, he knows he’s getting on his friend’s nerves, particularly Stan and Richie’s. 

“I don’t even know if he’s gay Stan,” he almost whines.

Stan takes a glance towards Art guy and looks at Bill with a raised eyebrow, “Are you serious right now?”

“What? S-serious about what?”

“Bill Denbrough you’re a dumbass,” he sighs, “That guy couldn’t scream more gay if he had a shirt on saying it.”

He scrunches his nose, “I don’t understand, how can you tell?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe because he dresses way too nice for a straight guy,” Stan states matter of factly. 

“Ben is st-straight and he dresses nicely.”

Stan looks almost pained, “Ben isn’t straight Bill.”

“Wh-what?! Since when?!” 

He rolls his eyes again and is chastising him for his lack of gaydar when the door chimes and stops mid-rant. Stan never stops mid-rant so he’s immediately turning around to see who came in.

Oh, it’s just her. The girl with curly brown hair who’s always slightly smiling is one of Art guy’s friends. 

But she’s not just a girl to Stan apparently. Bill watches his eyes as his eyes watch her, following her from where she goes to place her order and then to sit next to Art guy. Stan’s mouth is still hanging open from where he was speaking mid-sentence. 

He doesn’t bother to hide his snigger when Stan’s attention finally returns to him. Stan glares at him but asks anyways, “Does she often come here with him?”

Bill finds a sudden interest in his nails, feeling completely smug about the whole thing. Stan and Richie have been giving him shit about not talking to Art guy and here Stan is gaping at one of his friends. “Hmmm, I don’t know, why? You feeling smuh-smitten suddenly?” He’s not looking up from his nails as he says it, going for the full effect of bastard.

Stan throws his coffee stirrer at him, “I’m definitely not telling you Art guy's name now!” he hisses. 

Bill squawks, “How do you know his name?!”

“Because Richie texted me it on the way here!”

“I have the worst friends,” he pouts, sliding down into the booth.

-

Mike is surprised and annoyed to see Will’s Lover boy’s friend behind the counter the next time he visits The Bean. Will is still on his way and Mike tends to get here before him anyways when he joins him.

Before he approaches the counter he knows this guy is going to get on his nerves. He just looks dirty! His curls need a brush and his black fingernail polish is chipped to hell. To make it worse he can see the horrendous orange shirt behind his black apron. Who let him go out like this?! Why is it weirdly attractive?!

The guy- ‘Richie’ as it says in a messy scribble on his name tag greets him with an all too big smile, “Hey good lookin' what can I get brewin' for ya?” He sings songs. 

He resists glaring; just barely, and orders, “I’ll have an americano and a blueberry muffin. Oh and a hot chai tea.”

“Two drinks?” Richie asks as he rings him up, “What? You got a date coming? And your total is eight dollars and ninety five cents.”

“I’m just ordering for my friend that’s joining me- not that it’s any of your business.” He tosses a ten-dollar bill towards the barista who annoyingly catches it.

He hums, “No date, is it bold of me to assume you’re single then?”

“Just get me my coffee,” he bites out a “please,” so that he doesn’t come off as too rude. 

Richie chuckles and grabs two cups and a pen, “Before I do that I need to get your name pretty boy.”

He positively does not blush at that, “It’s Mike.”

“And the other name?” he asks him, scribbling Mike’s name on the cup and picking up the other one, “The name of your supposed friend?”

“It’s Will.” 

That makes Richie stop mid-writing and look up at him with an eyebrow raised, “Will? As the one who comes in every Tuesday and Thursday?” 

“Yeah that’s him, he has a weird obsession with this place,” Mike tells him, confusion lacing his tone. 

“Does his obsession with this place have anything to do with the hopeless writer that sits right at the booth over there?”

The pieces are starting to fall into place as he catches on, “I do believe it does,” a smirk is tugging at his lips. 

Richie leans over the counter, matching him with his own Cheshire grin, “Tell me, Micheal, are you also sick of them and their dramatic pining?”

“You have no idea.” He loves Will, really, but ever since Will told him about his crush it’s all he wants to talk about. Mike can recall the different colors of plaid the Writer has worn the last two Tuesdays and Thursdays because Will has insisted on telling him. 

“Well well I think it’s time I execute my plan 'The Williams’,” he sees Mike looking at him questioningly and clarifies, “Oh my friend’s name is Bill, they’re both named William so I guess it’s good they go by different nicknames because otherwise, that shit would be confusing.” 

“Hmph look at that,” he muses. 

Richie challenges him, “So you ready to hear my plan?” 

He thinks about it for a minute. Will hates it when his friends get involved in his love life so does he really want to deal with the inevitable grouchy Will over this? On the other hand, can he stand to hear about how the sun filtered in on The Writ- Bill’s hair one more time? With that in mind, he nods. 

Richie shoots him a wink, “Great, knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he calls over his shoulder to the other barista who was stocking syrups, “Hey Addy would you mind coming over here for a sec? I got something to ask.”

-

Will doesn’t notice anything off when he enters The Bean. Mike is sitting over on his loveseat couch, their drinks sitting on the table and his muffin half eaten on the plate. 

He also doesn’t notice Mike’s lack of overflowing conversation as he watches for the Writer, no interest in working on his project for the new term. He got an A on his midterm so that’s subsided his worries about his career choice for a while. He painted his mom, Hop, Jonathan, and El. His family- his characters of light. His work was so good that his professor didn’t care that he chose multiple subjects. 

Between watching the clock and humming an agreeing noise whenever it sounds like Mike has asked him a question, time moves quickly. 

The Writer comes in right on time and heads to the counter. His friend, the one he occasionally shares a cigarette with, has started working here so it’s been fun to watch their interactions. His friend’s name is Richie. Will likes him, he’s only been here for about a week but he’s always super nice to him. Sometimes Will wishes he had the courage to ask him about the Writer but that would be too obvious. 

Will watches as the Writer and Richie exchange words, the Writer flips him off and Richie makes kissy faces at him. He wonders what on Earth they’re talking about. The Writer gets his drink, a warm one today, and on cue turns around to smile and wave at him. As always Will waves back. 

Something Will does notice is Mike’s lack of snark over it. He eyes his friend, “What? No teasing today?”

Mike gives him an unimpressed look, “I don’t know what to tell you, William, the world doesn’t revolve around you.” 

Will rolls his eyes, “Whatever- and don’t call me William. It’s weird.”

They make ideal chit-chat, Mike finishing off his muffin and Will drinking his chai. Lucas’s birthday is coming up so they discuss what to get him. The man who notoriously just goes out and buys the things he wants himself. Meanwhile the Writer is pretty invested in the story he’s writing so Will risks a couple more glances than usual.

The sound of Addy's voice interrupts his and Mike's conversation. “Special order for William from Mr. Brandis!” she calls out, putting two drinks on the counter. 

He just stares up at the counter, confused. Mike nudges him, “I think she’s talking to you.”

Since when does Addy call him William and why even would Mr. Brandis order him a drink? He’s not even in today! ….He thinks. 

Hesitantly he stands and walks towards the counter. Addy is taking an order for another customer and Richie has magically disappeared. She gives him a quick smile as he approaches. 

The two paper cups are empty when he picks them up; there are no drinks. What is going on here? One of the cups says ‘Will’ and the other is labeled ‘Bill’. 

“What the fuck R-Rich,” Comes from behind him, making him jump.

It’s the Writer and he turns around and sees that he looks annoyed. He’s still confused as to what is going on and is starting to worry that he somehow did something wrong. 

The Writer quickly drops his look of annoyance though, trying to smile instead but it’s tense, “I’m ss-sorry. I think my friend is playing a prank.”

Will looks down at the cup named ‘Bill’ and holds it out to him, “Is this you?”

He takes it and observes it, “Yeah I’m Bill- sadly,” he looks at the other cup in his hands, “What does yours s-say?”

Will tries not to snicker but it’s kinda funny, the guy he’s been pining over has his name, “It says Will, short for William.”

It seems like it finally dawns on Bill, “Oh shit we have the same name!” he says, a little too excited. It makes Will squirm, and his cheeks hurt from trying not to smile too big but he's just as nervous. Scared he’ll say the wrong thing and lose this chance. 

Bill steps closer to him and he can smell his woodsy cologne and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke. For some reason he completely expected the Writer, Bill, to smell like this. He talks again in that slow voice of his, “Do you want to come sit down with me? Can’t let a special order from Mr. Brandis go to waste.” His words are smooth but his smile is boyish and cheeky and it is utterly charming. 

But then Will remembers Mike and in a panic looks over towards him...only to see that Mike is no longer there. He’s standing outside The Bean, looking in through the window and giving him a thumbs up before proceeding to fake gag. Very Mike of him. 

So Will turns to Bill and nods, “I’ll sit with you only if you tell me about that story of yours I’ve seen you writing.”

Bill’s eyes light up, “Deal but only if you let me ss-see some of your artwork,” he goads. 

That sounds more than fair to him. 

A/N: AAAAAA I know it seems like it ends abruptly but that's what chapter two is for ;)

Thank you for reading! Please comment if you enjoyed!

#i finished this look at me #willbill #elstan #wheelzier #bill denbrough #will byers #mike wheeler #richie tozier #eleven hopper #stanley uris #it 2017 #it 2019 #stanger things #stranger things 4

[lillieloretta]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Liv Foster.

[valentein-voyager]

about the cast

feat. Elstan Bell

Elstan Bell is a young (ARR) half hyuran/half elezen conjurer under the employ of the Gridanian conjurers guild. they were born to a hyuran father and elezen mother, both of whom live within the Shroud and outside of the city proper. they grew up close to and surrounded by nature, and eventually picked conjury as their career of choice to become even closer to it.

being a half hyur/elezen, they were picked on and looked down upon by Gridanian Wildwoods who thought themselves superior, but that did not stop them from working hard and becoming the ideal conjurer they wanted to be. as a pre-teen, they were informed of the possibility that they might be able to care for children in the future, if they wanted to help the guild care for orphans, and enthusiastically decided that they indeed would help, wanting children to feel loved and protected, despite how they were treated as a child. even as a child themself, they were very well aware of how Wildwoods treated other people, and wanted children to not have to feel that way if they could help it.

as a very young adult (17-19ish) they were given their very first opportunity to care for an orphaned miqo'te child, (Airy!) which they were extremely nervous about, but took seriously, and dedicated themself to his care. this solidified their future as a foster parent, and to this day, they continue to take care of children and nurture them, try to provide a home in which they can feel safe regardless of their blood status or origin.

in EW, they are almost 40, and their parents are proud of them. they have become quite notable as a conjurer and foster parent both, and Airy is very quick to shut down anyone who tries talking down to them simply due to their birth.

#ffxiv #original character #character info #runepathing musings

[yanderefairyangel]

Welcome to "debate" with E*elstans.

"Even though the source material says X, my fanfiction says Y"

Sounds like every average day in a fandom.

"NO MY HEADCANON IS CANON BECAUSE I DECIDED IT WAS CANON"

They could at least find a headcanon that doesn't make Eddie sound like an idiot

[sxcredstories]

DraftDash 1/2/24

“Wh-Who are you?” Rachele stammered, slowly standing up. 

“Come…”

“Where- Where are you? I can’t s-see you.”

“... Left…”

Rachele reached her hand out to the left, tentatively, afraid that whatever was speaking to her was going to bite her hand off. Instead of being met with ferocious fangs, Rachele’s fingers brushed against soft fur. 

“Safe…”

“Safe…?” Rachele waited for a response. She felt the warmth of the creature beckoning her to come closer. She obeyed; she walked closer. Her nose hit the wall of soft fur, and she took a step back.  “I-I’m sorry, I-”

“Climb…”

Rachele felt the presence shift itself down. She reached out with her hands to feel for a place to grasp her hands. It wasn’t long before she grabbed at the soft fur and clambered onto its strong back. Whatever this creature was, it was warm and gentle. The fur didn’t hurt her newly found burns. Instead, it enveloped her in a warmth she couldn’t describe. The creature rose up and started in a jog towards the tribal grounds.

“You are going to make a shit husband, Z’ev.” Elstan huffed. “Especially if you keep treating your bride-to-be the way that you do.”

“Shut up. Why don’t you worry about how you treat your own bride, hm?” Z’ev snapped.

“Guys-”

“What, Tetra, what? If you’re going to tell us we are being too loud, I will howl right now-”

“No, idiot! Look over there!” 

Rachele froze. She felt three pairs of skeptical eyes on her. Tetra was pointing at the wolfish figure at the top of the hill, with milky white eyes that shone in the shadows. Rachele stayed perfectly still. Maybe if she didn’t move, she could use the stories of the Spirit Wolf to scare them off. Maybe if she played the part just right, they would leave. 

Her heart dropped when she heard one of them sniffing. Elstan huffed, and Rachele could hear him rolling his eyes.

“You’re the idiot, Tetra. It’s just Rae,” he said. “Spirits, do neither of you use your noses?”

Z’ev grumbled under his breath, trying to hide his shame. He looked at Rachele standing at the top of the hill. She felt his glare digging into her frame.

“Get down from there,” he ordered.

Despite how much Rachele wanted to stay or turn around and walk away, she just- couldn’t. She obeyed Z’ev, taking careful steps down the hill. Once she felt the terrain even out, she morphed back into her human form. The blindfold appeared over her eyes again. She adjusted it as Z’ev stalked up to her. He grabbed her arm and jerked her close to him to snarl in her face.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded, “You’re blind, idiot. You probably tripped so much that it scared off any prey that might’ve been here.”

“I just came here to… to clear my head.” Rachele struggled to get herself out of his grasp. Z’ev’s nails dug into her skin, making her wince. “The Elder told me to.”

“The same Elder who is ‘training’ you? Give me a break.” Z’ev scoffed. “You’re both wasting each other’s time.”

Rachele stayed quiet. She hung her head as Z’ev spat the same words at her he did the day before and the day before that. She had heard her own voice say it all the time. She had said those words to the Elder countless times. But hearing Z’ev say them hurt. It brought a spark to her stomach. 

“Just give up.” Z’ev snarled. “The old man has enough problems upstairs to deal with. He doesn’t need a burden like you weighing him down.”

“He has a point.” Elstan piped up. “It doesn’t matter that you’re blind. You were born frail. You haven’t gained enough strength to get you through the Trials, and you won’t get that strength in time.”

“Elstan-”

“Shut up.” Elstan snapped at Tetra, making her close her mouth and shuffle her feet.

Copyright © 2024 A.I. Benstayn All rights reserved. This writing may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author. For permission requests, write to the author @sxcredstories OR @sxcrednightmxre.

#sxcredstories #draftdash #draftdash 2024 #author #fantasy writing #queer writers #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writeblr #writing #fantasy #writer things #original story #creative writing