#maybe i'll go back to them someday when i think i can write their story and do them justice

[itsjustinknow]

also building off that last thing except i'm too tired to reblog it, but it's so weird to think that just a couple of years ago i was like 15 or so on this site talking about my ocs and my little fantasy novel series that i wanted to write and stuff and now i'm 22 and going to grad school for literary fiction/magic realism (though i have every intention of returning to fantasy when i can, it's just the horrors of academia that keep me from doing so right now). i'm graduating undergrad in less than two months with two degrees. i grew my hair back out. i'm different but i don't always feel like it. i should go to bed.

#never got around to fixing my sleep schedule ig #also for anyone who knows what im talking about #that story world isnt like dead #i dont actively think about it anymore #but it exists in a series of word document compilations on my computer and all my notebooks #it's still something i think fondly about but ive ultimately outgrown those ocs for now #maybe i'll go back to them someday when i think i can write their story and do them justice #but for rn i'm sticking to other stuff #i like to think they're hanging out in a nice place in my head #asleep and at peace #sometimes i miss them but i know it's bc i've just switched to other themes and universes #and one day i'll probably go back #but for now they're just chilling #lmao one day i'll talk about the bullshit i'm up to now #but not tonight

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 12 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna noticed that a new poem by her favorite, amateur writer had been posted, she was afraid to read the finality in his tone. But Bob always managed to surprise her. And maybe she could find a way to surprise Kevin, too.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, adult language, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

After that, it was radio silence. Anna didn't reach out to Bob, and he didn't try to either. He went to the Hard Deck on Friday night and lasted about an hour before excusing himself. Nobody asked him why he was bailing after one ginger ale and a single cup of peanuts, and that was enough to tell him that everyone knew. Everyone knew he slept with Anna. Everyone knew she was married. Everyone knew that they shouldn't talk about it in front of him for fear that the ladies would snap their necks. Even Nat was being very kind and considerate which wasn't really like her at all. 

When Bob was halfway to the door, he felt a small hand curl around the back of his bicep. "I'll see you tomorrow night for D&D?"

He nodded down at Jessica's hopeful face. "Yeah. I can pick you up if you want."

Her face brightened a little bit. "I'll text you in the morning." He turned to walk out, and her hand slid down his arm. "Hey, Bob? Don't give up hope on her, okay?"

He didn't know how to respond, so he just kept walking. He had no idea what to say or what to think. It wasn't like he could stop loving someone overnight. He didn't really want to either. Anna's life was quite frankly messier than he had ever expected. She did a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone, and it seemed like she would have continued down that path if they didn't have sex. And that was the other issue; it wasn't just sex to Bob. Anna knew about the things he tried to hide himself, and she seemed to want him in that moment anyway. 

Her words from the previous night made him ache. 

'You're perfect. You're Sky Writing. You're the handsome man from the bookstore who smells like tea and soap. You're Bob, the guy my friends knew I would fall in love with as soon as I met them.'

If that meant she was in love with him or that she thought she could be someday, then he was afraid to walk away from her. But now he was terrified of getting hurt or somehow hurting Anna like Kevin had. Part of him believed if he could just see Anna's husband with his own eyes, confirm that he was exactly the way she described him, then he might be able accept that she just needed time to settle her divorce and to heal. If that was the case, he wanted to make it work. 

In the meantime, when he got home, he ended up standing in his living room, staring at his bookshelf before going upstairs and staring at his bed. He could still picture her red hair all spread out for him. He could still feel it between his fingers as the silky strands slid along his palm. He could taste her on his tongue. He could hear her telling him what she wanted.

Bob picked up his computer and slipped under the covers, knowing he wasn't going to be able to sleep right now.

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

It had been there since early Saturday morning. A new one. Anna desperately wanted to read it and memorize it like she had the others, but she was afraid to face the finality. Her email alert mocked her every time she looked at it.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Bob wrote a new poem, and she didn't think she could handle reading exactly how he viewed her now. He'd never be like Kevin, openly belittling her or putting her down, but she knew the shiny packaging had been removed now, and he saw what was really inside. Just a mess of a human. She put off reading it and put off reading it, but when she was sitting at her desk at work on Monday, she made herself decide between reading the new poem or calling Kevin. After a fairly short debate, she decided to read the poem. It was probably so bad, calling Kevin later wouldn't even feel painful in comparison. 

She tapped on the link in her email and was taken to something so unexpected, she gasped as she read it.

There is empty space on my bookshelf,

The one I bought with you in mind.

I didn't know it was for you at the time,

But one night made it obvious,

Before an instance took it.

Reality surpassed intention today.

Your worn favorites and mine pristine,

Should mingle and mix,

Genre forgotten.

Dog eared pages became so endearing.

But I'll never see them on my shelf,

Unless you come back and stay this time.

The format was different from what he usually wrote, but it was so obviously Sky Writing. So obviously Bob. So obviously about her. And he didn't sound angry. Could he possibly miss her after everything she did and said?

She jumped when her phone vibrated on her desk, and for a split second, she believed it could be Bob. Her heart beat faster with anticipation, but it was from somebody else.

Jessica Reed: If you don't come down to this weird tree right now, we're going to come up and get you.

Anna had lost track of time. It was after noon now. She knew that her friends were trying to make sure she was holding herself together after she refused to go to the Hard Deck over the weekend. How could she continue to go somewhere that Bob had the rights to first? It wasn't until she read his Sky Writing poem that she thought perhaps there was a chance he might not only be okay with her presence but perhaps even miss her like she missed him.

With her sad little lunch in hand, she dragged herself down to the quad, trying to decide when was the best time to call Kevin. She was tired of going through lawyers who couldn't seem to get him to budge, and each ninety day window just ate away at more of her soul. She should have been so much more careful with her writing when she had the opportunity, and now he'd completely locked her out of being able to access it. 

No, she was going to have to beg him, plead with him, anything it took to get what she wanted without giving away where she'd moved. Maybe if he agreed to let her have her manuscript, one of her friends would let her borrow money for a flight back to New Jersey to retrieve it. She was getting ahead of herself, but she couldn't help it. She needed to at least get this one thing.

"There she is!"

Anna looked up to see her friends directly in front of her on the bench by the tree, and the fact that they both looked happy to see her made her heart ache. "Hi," she said softly as she sat down between them when they both scooted over.

"Hummus?" her friend asked, passing along a container while she bit into her perfect looking chicken salad sandwich on artisan bread. Anna accepted a few bites of Bradley's gourmet snack, because she was absolutely starving today.

"Thanks," she murmured, and she let herself sink into the background a little bit as the two other women continued the conversation they'd been having. Now that she was down here with his friends, she couldn't stop thinking about Bob again. His soft hair and his kind eyes. The way he always paid attention to her when she was talking. How good he made her feel.

She listened to her friends argue about alumni weekend for a few minutes before she finally cut them off to ask, "Has Bob said anything about me?" Both of them looked at her, and she quickly added, "I can't stop thinking about him."

Jessica smiled softly and said, "Not a word, but I've never seen him look so sad. And I mean that in a good way, because although I know he's confused and hurt, I'm pretty sure he just misses you."

"But," the other woman quickly cut in, "the most important thing right now is making sure you take care of yourself. Even if you are in love with Bob."

"Oh!" Jessica exclaimed. "I have an idea! We could just kill Kevin!"

Anna snorted in spite of herself. "That would actually solve a lot of my problems. Maybe even all of them."

"Only one problem with that," Advanced Calculus said blandly. "You're not a killer, Jessica."

"I could kill someone," Jessica muttered under her breath, and truly Anna almost laughed, because Jessica Reed was one of the gentlest people she'd ever met. The most violent thing about her was her Dungeons & Dragons character. "I could at least probably slap him."

"He wouldn't know what hit him," Anna said, and all three women erupted into laughter. And it felt so strange to feel genuine happiness, even if it only lasted for a few seconds, that Anna almost started crying. As their amusement died down, she asked her friends, "Do you think.... Bob would respond if I texted him?"

Jessica squeaked, and then both women said, "Yes."

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

Bob was back to square one. Back at the bookstore. He was fifteen minutes early. He was already looking through the Classics. He was about to meet up with Anna. He was nervous.

Nat scoffed when he told her where he was going, and he truly did appreciate that his friend wanted him to proceed with caution, but she just didn't understand how Anna made him feel. Being friends with her after sleeping together a total of one time might kill him, but he knew that was probably all he could have now.

It was almost like he could sense that she was there. He looked up from the Shakespeare volume in his hand, and he saw her walk in the door. As he got closer to the loft railing, he saw her glance up and meet his eyes like it was some depraved version of Romeo and Juliet. She mouthed the word Hi before she headed for the stairs, and in less than a minute, she was standing right in front of him. 

Anna looked nervous, but everything else was just the same. Those perfect freckles decorated her face. Her brown eyes were bright. Her pretty hair was in a messy braid. He saw her burgundy nail polish as she fidgeted with her denim jacket. He wanted to know if she still thought he was the kind of person she could love. He wanted to ask her if her husband was any closer to signing papers. Instead he said, "I was surprised when you texted me."

Her eyes went wide, and he wished he could shove his foot in his mouth as she started looking around anywhere but at his face. "I need some books for my feminist literature course, and I just thought maybe you'd like more books for your bookshelf."

Had she read his newest poem? It was a sloppy one that he wrote late on Friday night and posted on a whim. She could have deleted her account by now or vowed never to read anything else by Sky Writing. But that didn't stop the poem from being about her.

"I do need some more books for my shelves," he replied, and her eyes finally settled on his again. "And you don't have to be nervous around me. I know you're dealing with a lot, and I promise I won't touch you or anything."

Now she just looked sad and distraught, but she nodded and turned down the very aisle where they first met. Bob had to fight to keep a few feet of space between them as she said, "I'm looking for Mary Wollstonecraft, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton."

They worked their way slowly up and back down each aisle, falling into a natural conversation in spite of the awkwardness between them. In spite of the way Bob couldn't keep himself from looking at her as she ran her fingers along the spines. When she wanted something that was on a top shelf, he reached it down for her. When her hands got full, he offered his up for her use. And to his delight and also sadness, she kept recommending books for him along the way. That's how he ended up with Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day as well as The Importance of Being Earnest in his hand when she led the way downstairs to pay.

Bob cleared his throat as Anna reached into her pocket for some cash. "I can get them."

Her brown eyes snapped up to meet his, and her cheeks turned pink. He already knew what Kevin did, and while he didn't think there was any harm in saying it, he could tell that she at least had her pride intact. "The college is going to reimburse me," she said firmly before handing forty dollars across the counter.

"Right," Bob said before paying for his own books. When they walked out into the fading sunlight, he looked down into her pretty face. "Will you let me drive you home? Not because I think I need to, but because I want to?"

She seemed at war with herself as she looked across the street and pressed her lips together. But her eyes fluttered closed and she said, "I would really appreciate that."

The interior of his truck was quiet the whole way as their books sat on the seat between them. Only the soft hum of the radio helped Bob hold his thoughts at bay. The ride wasn't too long, and when they were most of the way there, Anna finally spoke. 

"I'm going to deal with my shit. I promise."

Unsure exactly how he should respond, Bob simply said, "Okay."

When he pulled up in front of her building, he turned toward her, intending to ask if she wanted him to walk her up, but she was gathering her books together as she said, "I don't know how you feel about me now. I don't know if you could want me again. But I am going to deal with Kevin. I am going to fix my life. Because I want to move on. I need to." When he was so flustered that he didn't immediately respond, Anna said, "You know where to find me. Thanks for the ride."

He watched her run up the sidewalk before struggling to open the door with her arms full, and then she ducked inside when he finally figured out what he wanted to say. "I'll find you."

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

If Anna even had a hope or a prayer at a chance with Bob ever again, she needed to work up the nerve. A real chance with him now that he knew all about her disastrous marriage was what she wanted, but she needed to sort Kevin out first. 

As far as she could tell, everything came down to two options: keep her freedom by giving Kevin ownership of her manuscript, or keep her self worth by fighting until she didn't have anything left to give up. And both of them sounded terrifying. The whole weekend passed where she tried so many times to call him. She took her phone out again and again, let her thumb hover over her husband's phone number, and then chickened out. His voice was like a distant memory, and she didn't want to bring it back to the forefront of her mind. He hadn't reached out one time since she up and left without telling him where she was going, and she was afraid to let him know where she was now.

The worst part was, he would know immediately why she was calling. He knew that he had the one thing she wanted. He cut off her access to the cloud files where she should have been able to piece her writing back together. It would have been time consuming, but she would have been all too happy to do it. She should have known better than to let him have so much of her life and so many of her resources in only his name, but there was a time when she trusted him. That was the part that made her so sick. She had trusted her husband, and now look where it got her.

A shiver went through her body as she woke up for work too early on Monday morning. She wanted Kevin's computer where everything was saved. She wanted access to the cloud. She didn't want a damn penny from him otherwise. She was aggressively brushing her teeth, wishing she had more to eat than a granola bar when she spit out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth.

She hated him. She hated him so much, she was going to call him right now. Without a backward glance, she marched over to where her phone was charging and pulled the cable out. Before she could even think about exactly what she was going to say, she tapped on his stupid name.

Anna was breathing fast and deep, her heart pounding in her ears when she heard his voice for the first time in so many months.

"Anna?" he asked, her whole body cringing after just one word. His voice was scratchy as if she had woken him up, but it was 9:16 in New Jersey. He should be on his way to work if not there already.

"Kevin," she snapped, gripping her phone tighter. She was getting angrier by the second as she listened to him yawn while she looked around her tiny apartment.

His tone was condescending as he said, "Of course you'd call me at six in the fucking morning after I haven't hear a word from you except through a lawyer since July. What the hell do you want?"

She couldn't do this. She couldn't talk to him. While she felt strong a few minutes ago, her resolve was already crumbling. She wanted to tell him that he knew damn well what she wanted, but then she zeroed in on what he said. "What do you mean it's six in the morning? It's after nine."

His voice was suddenly loud and harsh. "I meant exactly what I said. I'm in California for a medical convention. Now get to the point of your call."

Her mouth felt like sandpaper as she carefully put her phone on speaker. She started searching for Neurological conventions in California while she told him, "I just want my manuscript. Please, Kevin. That's all I want, and then you can be rid of me."

The bite was gone from his voice, replaced by a lazy tone, and he spoke to her as if she were a very simple child. "It's not going to happen, Anna. I didn't cut off access to it for no reason. It's worth money. You can pay me for it, or you can kiss it goodbye. I might even publish it myself."

She was gasping for air as she scrolled through her search results, coming up with a conference in Carlsbad that was starting today. As the page loaded, she swallowed and told him, "I'll sue you if you do." But even she knew she was full of shit.

"What what money, Anna? I'm surprised you can still afford your lawyers. I don't even want to know what you're doing to make ends meet right now."

Then she saw it. She saw his name. He was a keynote speaker at the National Neurological Physicians Association conference. He was less than an hour away. She sank down to her knees in surprise and fear. Her mind was swirling with information and ideas, and she couldn't even comprehend what Kevin was saying now.

"What?" she gasped.

"I said come up with some money for me, or I'm not signing shit." Then he ended the call as her hands started shaking. She dropped her phone onto her bed. He was in Carlsbad. Maybe she could surprise him. Maybe she could talk him into it easier in person.

Anna had to run to the bathroom to be sick, but her mind was made up. Once she cleaned herself up again, she tearfully made the decision to cancel her morning classes via email, and then she started grabbing her purse and her essentials. She folded up the newest copy of the divorce paperwork her lawyer had emailed to her and tucked it away. Then she ran for the bus stop, nearly tripping several times as she read through the schedule of speakers who were at the conference this week on her phone. If she caught a bus within the next fifteen minutes, she might make it in time to see Kevin right before he gave his welcome speech.

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

We will meet Kevin in the next chapter. Now is an acceptable time to start sharpening your knives. Bob, please don't give up on Anna. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #robert floyd x oc #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

[raynesbunny]

WHAT MAKES THEM EMBARRASSED?

Mashle headcanon!

💌: GN!reader, fluff

⚠️: Ooc and maybe cringe, slight suggestive on Orter's part?

Requested by: @rainee-da

Characters: Orter Madl, Rayne Ames, Abyss Razor

Others: Guess who's back! I was thinking of finishing all the short stories before going back, though— but I don't want to keep you guys waiting! I'll feel very bad if I do so｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡ Angst Rayne A. x reader coming soon! Still fixing a lot of errors<33 Enjoy reading, pookies!(≧▽≦) (this is my first time writing a headcanon so please do leave a message if there are errors!)

—

Orter Màdl

♡ It's almost impossible to make this man feel embarrassed; he hardly shows any expressions regardless of what others do—always wearing a straight and serious face! Many have attempted to make him laugh and smile, but their efforts have always been in vain, no matter how much they've tried. It almost seemed like expressing emotions is against the rules to him!

♡ And then there's you, his dearest, his partner, his beloved, his darling, his sweetheart, his sunshine, his angel, his lover, the one who melted his icy heart and kept it warm—the only one capable of evoking emotions within him that he never thought he would experience someday. (although, this rule-obsessed man cannot bring himself to admit it openly!)

♡ If there's one thing that can make Orter feel embarrassed, it would be your unexpected, sneaky and quick yet soft kisses and pecks!

♡ Whenever you peck his cheek, his brain momentarily stops functioning, and his heart flutters. His body freezes (and a faint blush is visible on his cheeks) at the touch of your soft lips against his skin.

♡ Your innocent and delicate feathered kisses drives him wild, but he would never dare to utter a word about his longing for more of those adorable little kisses!

Extra:

♡ Today was another busy day for the young man, Orter Màdl. Well— busier than usual that he had forgotten to bring his lunch with him.

And here you are, now in his office to deliver the homemade lunch to your hard-working lover, along with an encouraging letter you poured your heart into creating!

Upon noticing your presence, Orter averted his gaze from his work and looked up at your approaching figure with a small bag in your hand.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

"You forgot your lunch at home, and I won't allow my man to work with an empty stomach, so I decided to bring it here to you," you replied.

Orter remained silent, choosing to turn his focus back to his paperwork. However, his shoulders seemed more relaxed now, and his facial expression had softened. That sight alone was enough for you to know that he was grateful, and he doesn't need to express it through words or pay you back.

(The pile of paperwork on his desk bothered you. You seriously wanted to help, but this stubborn boyfriend of yours would not let you, and you were left with no choice.)

(Last time, you tried helping him, but it only ended up with you wrapped in his sand magic.)

"Here's your lunch, by the way. Don't forget to eat it at lunchtime," you said, placing the small bag with his lunchbox inside on his desk. When you heard no answer, you glanced at him, seeing that he was focused on his work.

This seemed to be the perfect time to take the chance and sneak a kiss.

As your lips were about to reach his cheek, Orter turned around (on purpose), causing your lips to meet his instead.

You were about to pull away immediately, only for the desert cane to grab your wrists, pin you down on his desk and deepen the kiss, preventing you from moving and keeping the kiss from breaking. Leaving you breathless and blushing, a flustered mess.

—

Rayne Ames

♡ Just like the rule-obsessed divine visionary, he's often cold and serious. But believe me when I say that he isn't cruel! He's just having a hard time expressing that he actually cares for the people, especially those whom he's fond of, interested in, and of course- you.

♡ Speaking of you, you are his everything. He'd do anything to keep you safe, make you feel loved, respected, and comforted! Even with his busy schedule, he'll find a way to prioritize you, no matter what. (You matter the most in his life, aside from his rabbits and Finn, of course he'll prioritize those who are important to him.) Though, there are times that he must attend to his duties first, but he'll be sure to make it up to you! It just takes some time, and hopefully you'll understand.

♡ And when I say you're his everything, I mean; you're his joy, his comfort, his warmth, his flower, his world, his dream, his reason to smile, his strength, his motivation, his star, his light—

♡ If there is something that makes this man embarrassed, it's the way you know or understand what he wants (sometimes mentioning it) and letting him know that you have given him your consent!

♡ He will hesitate at first, but will give in as soon as he knows that you are certain. Like those days where he was staring down at your lips with a troubled expression, and this will never go unnoticed by you.

♡ You held yourself back from laughing, it was truly an adorable and amusing sight!

♡ You would press your forehead against his, your lips parting to mutter the words that you have given him your consent.

♡ Rayne's face would turn bright red, his gaze snapping to you with a look of embarrassment. He cannot believe he got caught again!

♡ You chuckled at the expression on his face, but your laughter died down when Rayne immediately brought his lips to meet yours in a gentle yet firm kiss, the contact sending a warm shiver down your spine.

Extra:

♡ You were playing with Rayne's pet rabbits in your shared room, wearing the comfortable rabbit hoodie that matched with your boyfriend but in your favorite color.

"There! All done!" You chirped and stroked Usao's fluffy fur, staring at all the rabbits decorated with ribbons in awe.

"[Name.]"

At the sound of his voice calling your name, you turned around to face him. Once you did, you're met with himself close to you, the sudden closeness making your eyes widen in surprise and confusion. "Is something the matter?"

(It was hard reading him this time, not even a single clue was visible! Is he doing this on purpose?)

Said boyfriend shook his head before gently taking your hand in his, caressing it tenderly.

He closed his eyes and brought your hand up to his lips for him to place a soft and long kiss.

The kiss lasted for a while and it took you some time to process what just happened. When you did, you found yourself stunned and flustered.

—

Abyss Razor

♡ Believe when I say THAT THIS MAN GETS ALL FLUSTERED WITH EVERYTHING YOU DO. (You were just too much for his heart to handle, he might explode in embarrassment.)

♡ Even the simplest, smallest things you do, like getting close to him, holding his hand, or even a gentle poke on the cheek, headpats, or your compliments, cause him to freeze in embarrassment or leave him trembling and a stuttering mess. (Even your smile and voice!)

♡ The last time this happened was when you were combing his hair and you stopped when you caught a whiff of the scent of his hair.

You drew closer to him, hoping to smell that pleasant fragrance again.

"Say, Abyss, what shampoo do you use?"

♡ He responded with silence, you were just too close to him! Close enough that his brain stopped functioning!

♡ Abyss.exe has stopped working.

♡ You are welcome to shower this lover of yours with affection, but please have mercy! He has zero experience when it comes to this! (Your affections for him might be the cause of his death /j)

♡ He is so adorable, please don't ever hurt him. Cherish him with all your heart, for goodness' sake! He deserves all the love and care.<33

Extra:

Your fingers brushed the silky strands of your lover's hair, tucking it behind his ear before clipping it with a ribbon. (I live for the coquettish display<33)

Once you were done, you gasped at the sight of your lover with his hair neatly down and a ribbon clipped in place.

"My goodness! You look beautiful, my love, as always!"

"Even with my cursed evil eye?"

"Nonsense! I find your evil eye unique and beautiful! Even with or without that, you will always be a beauty in my eyes, both on the outside and the inside!"

Just as he was about to respond, you gently placed your finger on his lips and embraced him, burying your face in his stomach.

"Hush! Don't even think of saying those words. Your cursed evil eye has nothing to do with who you are! You have done nothing wrong! If no one else will accept the whole of you aside from Abel, then I WILL. I do not care what that evil eye of yours will do to me, I am willing to embrace everything in you. I will always love you, even with all your flaws. Nothing and no one can change my mind and my heart—"

You stopped yourself from rambling when you felt a sudden drop of liquid fall on top of your head.

"Abyss?"

You sat up to check on him, only for panic to rush through you as your eyes met his face that is soaked with tears.

"Did I say something wrong? Please, don't cry and tell me what's wrong! It pains me to see you in tears!" (You might cry too /j)

Receiving no response from him, you were left with no choice but to embrace him in a hug, hoping that it could provide him solace.

Abyss wrapped his arms around you in return, his tears soaking the fabric on your shoulder. (Which you did not mind at all.)

He could never be more grateful than being accepted despite the flaws he bore, especially his very own evil eye.

—

I'll add a few more characters for this headcanon after writing the second angst I'm planning to write! I hope you enjoyed reading my first headcanon! Have a great, wonderful day or night, lovelies!💌

#💌.astria writes! #💌.astria's hcs! #mashle x reader #mashle #rayne ames x reader #orter madl x reader #abyss razor x reader

[wolfawaycamp]

Alternate Truth or Dare "Truth" scene, because Emma's question in-game was super boring. She could've come up with something shippy for that, surely.

🐼 I had a million different ideas for this and maybe I'll write them out someday, but for the sake of brevity, here is (1) slightly shippier version of Emma Mountebank's infamously boring 'truth' question! Thanks for the ask :)

The warm smoke of the campfire mixed with the earthy scent wafting off of Lake Septimus’ surface makes for a nice, comfortable atmosphere for the Hacketteers’ last hurrah around the firepit.

Ryan can appreciate the sentimentality of it, as he had built up a nice camaraderie with these (mostly) strangers, but of course Dylan had to be Dylan and throw a Truth-or-Dare-shaped wrench into things. Ryan’s already nervous enough, what with Chris freaking out and demanding they stay in the lodge with all of the escapes locked as if there’s some wild animal on the loose.

To Ryan, the only thing worse than being attacked by a savage bear or feral hog is exactly what Emma is doing to him right now: putting him on the spot. “Ryan — truth or dare?”

He weighs his options.

Truth — knowing Emma, she's probably going to ask something nosy like "What were you and Chris talking about in his office?" which is annoying but ultimately uninteresting. Easy, painless, and forgettable.

Dare — she's going to make him kiss someone. Sure, he could be a killjoy and say no, but he's already on thin ice with this crowd and he's not so much of an asshole that he's going to ruin everyone's fun by refusing a dare. Besides, he knows it's either going to be Dylan or Kaitlyn. He can handle that. They're both attractive, and they both clearly have a crush on him. But what if she makes you choose? nags a voice in the back of his mind, and that gives him pause. Because — because if he's forced to make a choice, people are going to make assumptions and tease him and Dylan — or Kaitlyn — mercilessly about it for the rest of the night. Truly a fate worse than death.

He goes with the safe option. "Truth. I'm an open book."

"Okay, okay. Let's get right down to it." Emma narrows her eyes suspiciously.

"Let's do." Ryan makes his best attempt to match her energy. He’s sure he looks as terrified as a first-time camper during opening week.

"What were you and Dylan doing when you two snuck away from Mandatory Movie Night last month?"

Fuck. That wasn’t part of the script.

"You left the lodge after Mr. H told you not to? What a little rebel!" Abi blurts out in mock surprise.

Ryan rolls his eyes. "No, we...we went upstairs. Wanted to get away from the kids. Nothing really happened. We just talked."

Somehow, he’s forgotten that the other person in question is sitting six feet away from him, ready to call him out on his bullshit. "C'mon, tell them the rest of it,” Dylan encourages, taking another sip of his beer.

Betrayal. Ryan really was an idiot to think he’d get out of this one so easily. "Whose side are you on, man?"

"Well, obviously, as the one who's laying down the law here, I'm on the side of the truth!" Dylan responds matter-of-factly.

Emma, who’d been watching the exchange and quietly enjoying the drama, leans in. "What are you hiding from us, you mysterious bad boy?”

I’m really not beating the ‘brooding loner’ allegations, am I? "First off, never say that again." Everyone is staring at him in anticipation, except Dylan, who’s looking away and visibly trying (and failing) to maintain his poker face while reveling in Ryan’s discomfort.

Ryan sighs. "We also…might have found some vodka and drank it. But we were just drinking and chilling like we are right now. Nothing to write home about."

“Vodka and chill, huh?” Jacob waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“No,” Ryan responds, trying to sound as unbothered as possible. Unless you count Dylan acting serious for more than ten seconds as ‘chill.’ 

In all honesty, they didn’t do anything crazy. They'd started that night sharing childhood camp stories, and it had eventually turned into deep discussions about their fears, their dreams, and their plans for the future after camp, but the other counselors don’t need to know every detail. Ryan had seen Dylan in a different light since that night and they’d grown closer from it. That moment is special, and Ryan intends to keep at least some things between himself and Dylan.

Nick takes a break from basking in the warmth of the campfire to speak up. "Ugh. Boring!”

"On the contrary. My curiosity's been satisfied." Emma is staring at Ryan with an unnerving grin plastered onto her face. In the firelight, she almost looks like a demon. “Thank you for sharing.”

Jacob isn't having it. "No way. That can't really be it. Dylan?"

Ryan shoots Dylan a look that hopefully screams “save me.” Dylan obliges. "No, no, I'd say he's off the hook. That’s all she wrote. Scout's honor." He holds up his hand and crosses his fingers.

"Doesn't that mean you're lying?" Jacob presses.

Kaitlyn responds to Jacob’s comment with derision, "No, dumbass, that's only if he does it behind his back where we can't see it. Duh." Ryan stays silent, letting the two bicker amongst themselves. At least they’re not all still staring at him with those creepy fucking smiles.

"Children! Settle down!" Right on cue, Emma turns everyone’s attention back to their favorite social punching bag. Well, second favorite to Jacob. "Your turn, Ryan." She’s still grinning. She genuinely looks pleased. It wasn’t just some juicy gossip she wanted from Ryan; her goal was to make him uncomfortable, and he played right into her trap perfectly.

Scanning the rest of the group, he sure does feel the discomfort; half of the counselors are giving him and Dylan knowing glances, while the other half look deeply disappointed with his answer. Well, too bad. He’ll let them speculate.

Ryan finds his victim. “Kaitlyn. What d’ya say — truth or dare?”

As she ponders the question, his eyes catch Dylan’s and he can’t help but wonder what would have happened had he chosen ‘dare.’ 

#the quarry #rylan #ryan erzahler #dylan lenivy #radioheads #truth or dare: dylan style #expert meddler emma mountebank #i'm obsessed with the idea of ryan being so utterly mortified by the idea of discussing any form of intimacy at all #ficlet #ask box #cam #🐼

[inkedroplets]

fanfic writer questions

Thanks so much for the tag @sideguitars

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

Twenty. A good mix of one-shots and longer fics that I will finish someday...

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

534,441

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Supergirl but I've dabbled with Legends of Tomorrow and have a few unpublished fics for different fandoms that I might share

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Rich Girl With Issues (I swear I'm almost done with the last chapter. The flu kicked my ass but I'm finishing up. My weird Lena becomes a vigilante fic. I still am amazed that people like it as much as they do)

Maybe I'm Too Afraid to Admit It (Kind of cute Kara realizes she has feelings for Lena. I really don't know why this one resonated with so many people)

Somewhere You Can't Follow (My weird (and poorly written) Legends and Supergirl crossover. I would love to go back and actually rewrite large bits of this but the dialogue is on point, at least. Oh and Lena gets to see her mom again so that's a plus)

Denial is Not Just a River in Egypt (I have no memory of this place fic)

Nothing Gold Can Stay (My one and only kidfic but I love it to pieces)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do and I don't. I'm a lot more offline than I was when I first started writing and if too much time passes, I feel weird about responding since I feel like I'm bothering people but I am trying to be better about it. Because I really do cherish each one

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

Probably nothing I've posted yet would count but I do have one that I plan to post soon-ish that's so angsty I took a year to decide whether or not to share it.

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

I think all of my one-shots have pretty standard happy endings. I think I'll say that either Rich Girl or Nothing Gold Can Stay will have the happiest endings (in my opinion) Wait (a little longer) and see

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I'll get the occasional weird comment. Nothing out of the ordinary. I did get a really rude bookmark once that kind of made me laugh. They hated the story yet still chose to bookmark it which is a choice.

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

I dabble in it. There's a snippet floating around somewhere on tumblr that I'm too lazy to find. I'll share it once I finish the first chapter. It's a bit out of my wheelhouse but its fun? Very different kind of writing than what I'm used to.

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

I write a lot of crossovers. I think when I write fic, I want to see something a little strange and unique that I can't find elsewhere. I'm working on a fic now where Kara meets Matt Murdock, that's not an interaction I ever envisioned myself writing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so? To be fair, I haven't ever cared enough to check. I don't think I'm popular enough to get a fic stolen xD

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Someone translated one of my fics into Russian. I was incredibly flattered that they liked it enough to do so.

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

No, and I think it's mostly because I'm quite a selfish writer? I know what and how I want to write so collaboration is quite difficult. Maybe I still have some leftover trauma from all the group projects of my past.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Supercorp, if that wasn't very, very obvious.

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

I'll finish them all!

16. What are your writing strengths?

I really don't know and that's not just me being modest. I don't really think I do anything particularly well?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Being succinct. Every ficlet wants to be a multi-chaptered story and every multi-chaptered story wants to be a novel

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

I think if implemented well it can be a great addition. If it's merely tacked on, however... I feel it not only doesn't add anything to the story but it makes the reader aware that they're reading a story. A bit of the magic is lost in the clunky execution.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

On AO3 Supercorp but I've dabbled in fandom for years and years. There's ancient Xena fic somewhere in my mother's basement

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Probably has to be Rich Girl but I really am fond of Swear Not by the Moon, as well. I've really enjoyed expanding the scope of Supergirl's world a bit and watching the characters slowly grow over the course of the story

No-pressure tags, of course: I never know who to tag in these until I finish these but if you like @rustingcat @vox-ex @sazernac

#ask game #this was a long one

[the-au-thor]

A la Velocidad de la Luz (at the Speed of light) PART II | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Second part for this story, and yes, you should read it first

Word Count: 11.6 k

TW: Read here!

"I think you're young," your new psychiatrist spoke. "And you need a different dose of sleeping pills. But I also believe you shouldn't depend on them for too long," she said after starting to write on her prescription pad. "I'll give you a monthly prescription, then you'll come to see me, and depending on how you're doing, we'll see if we continue with the same dose or lower it. The next time you see your therapist, you can ask to teach you some insomnia management exercises. You need to tackle this at its roots and not just put a Band-Aid over it," she looked at you seriously. "You must understand that what happened to you before is something you can't control, but this you can," she handed you the prescription sheet and smiled. "See you next month, and I hope you can get some rest."

You tucked the prescription into your purse and stood up from the chair with a smile, thanking her and saying goodbye.

Your usual psychiatrist, Dr. Orwell, was on vacation, and the first few weeks back at the clinic were fully booked. You had no choice but to call Owen and get a good contact in Indianapolis for a reliable psychiatrist. The truth was, you weren't as bad as you were a few weeks before Steve Harrington's intervention.

Steve.

It was strange what was happening with Steve. When you weren't with him, you missed him so much that you felt desperate and genuinely wanted to cry. When you were with him, your desperation turned into something different; you wanted to kiss him and run to a place where he would never find you. Yet, he wouldn't let you miss him or escape. He had behaved like your true personal hero; every night, right at 10pm when you took your insomnia pills, he would call your phone, and then he would start talking. He talked about his parents and how much he wished for less money and a bit more affection. He talked about Hopper and how even though he hadn't told him, he was grateful that he had believed in him and supported him. He talked about Nancy and how different he felt about her now, saying he loved her and always would but felt more ready than ever to love someone else. You wondered what kind of person he was looking for, but you never dared to ask; you told yourself it was to respect the rule that only he talked and you had to focus on sleeping, but they were just excuses. You were dying to know if you had a chance to be even a tiny blip on his radar, but you were a coward, so you supposed you would just have to live with that uncertainty.

You left the building where your new psychiatrist's office was and crossed the street halfway because you were too lazy to walk a few more steps and wait for the traffic light. When you reached the other side, you clutched your purse and walked towards the train station to go back home. You liked traveling by train; it was one of your favorite experiences. You could read a book, explore places you wouldn't on foot, and listen to your favorite songs with your headphones on without being judged; the old folks still disapproved when they saw other kids putting on their headphones and disconnecting from the world. Many said it was the end of civilization; you had witnessed the end of civilization, and it definitely wasn't because of music. If anything, music had saved you all. Maybe one day your kids would be able to walk down the street listening to music on their headphones, getting a bit away from reality without earning judgmental looks from older people.

You pressed the button on your Walkman and opened one of the books Lewis had sent in a very early annual reading list for the next semester. You definitely wouldn't fail his class if you wanted to have a future, a job, a family, and a movie adaptation of one of your books someday. You rested your forehead on the train's window and started reading while Peter Gabriel's music filtered through your headphones.

"Steve's voice to sleep?" Eddie asked, furrowing his brow, then snorted. "Well, I must admit he has a soothing tone with a moderate pitch, so I can see why it relaxes you," he shrugged, his face more relaxed, and then glanced at you as if he suddenly realized something. "Steve Harrington talked you to sleep."

You rolled your eyes.

"I thought I mentioned that."

"Yeah, I know," he set aside his guitar and then settled on the carpeted floor of Family Video. If Steve were there during Eddie's shift, he'd probably be lecturing him about responsibility, but it was a darn Tuesday morning, and everyone was at the lake, on vacation, or at the public pool, "what I mean is that he talked to you; do you know how hard it is to get Steve to talk? How long does he talk to you?"

You shrugged.

"It's not hard. And I don't know; I usually fall asleep after a few minutes."

Eddie clapped as if you were telling him juicy gossip.

"It's hard. Most of the time, Steve says three or four stupid sentences, usually to argue with Dustin, to receive Robin's teasing, or to tell me how uncomfortable he is with me getting too close to his perimeter."

You raised your eyebrows.

"Well, Eddie, you always get too close, and we like our personal space."

He nodded in agreement. "I know, and I understand, I also like your personal space," you laughed at his cheekiness, "but we're getting off track, honey, about what?"

"About what, what?" you asked back.

Impatiently, Eddie rolled his eyes.

"What does he talk about?"

You shrugged.

"I'm telling you I fall asleep within minutes, and I'll guess the things he talks about are private, and he doesn't expect me to be gossiping with the most impertinent man in Hawkins."

Now he was offended.

"I'm not the most impertinent person..."

"I said man, the most impertinent person is Robin."

"Ehhh, not to defend my dear friend, but she was injected with truth serum or something."

"You weren't even there!" Younprotested with a laugh..

"I heard about it, and you weren't there either; you were busy running with Dustin and stealing pants from a Russian soldier that Erica knocked out because you couldn't hold it and got your pants wet."

You furrowed your brow.

"And how do you know that?"

"Well, Robin told me..."

You cut him off.

"You, couple of blabbermouth ol' ladies!" you exclaimed with a victorious smile.

You saw Eddie rest his chin on his palm thoughtfully, then he smiled at you, a genuine smile; not one of those reckless smiles he always had when he mocked something or tried to be sarcastic.

"Harrington loves you."

You furrowed your brow, and the sensation in your gut as if something had suddenly hit you hard didn't go unnoticed.

"I know; he wouldn't do all this if he didn't love me." You tried to play fool about it. You knew what Eddie truly meant.

Eddie shook his head with a half-smile and then took your Walkman and opened it to reveal the copy Steve had given you a few days before leaving on a trip through a couple of states with Dustin to visit Suzie that Monday.

"He made you a freaking mixtape, woman!"

You raised your eyebrows as you watched him almost offended shaking the cassette in his hand.

"So?"

He dropped his arms defeatedly as he pressed his lips in consternation.

"Sweetheart; that man swims in money."

You shook your head slightly.

"Well, now his folks don't support him much anyway..."

"The point is he could buy you an original copy, and our Lord and Savior knows the government owes us so much that he could even ask them to have Peter Gabriel himself come and sign the cover and leave," he argued. "But no; Steve Harrington took the time to strategically copy..." he began reading the song names listed on the cover of the copy. "In your eyes... Don't give up... Look! Book of Love and Solsbury Hill."

You rolled your eyes.

"And what's that got to do with anything?"

"Those songs are from the early '80s, Solsbury Hill came out in 1977," he pointed as if he had suddenly found the solution to some complicated arithmetic problem. "He used different albums to record you a copy; he took the time between his silly dates and his hair sessions, the ones he denies but we all know he has, to take different songs with clear meanings and give you a mixtape; not to Tina, Rebecca, Raquel, Luciana, or whatever the last girls he..."

You shook your head.

"I don't need a recap of his dates; I'm aware he has a bunch."

Eddie took a deep breath and looked you straight in the eyes.

"Steve Harrington loves you."

You chose to ignore the conversation you had had with Eddie the previous week whenever you pressed play on your Walkman and listened to that mixtape. Now you couldn't help but value that mixtape more just because you were delusional and wanted to think it was true; that Steve had gone through that trouble because he loved you.

When you got off the train and left the station, you were taking off your headphones and wrapping them around the Walkman when you almost bumped into Steve, with Dustin next to him with a huge smile. You hugged the boy first, stroking his curls and kissing his cheek, then tried not to make it too obvious that you almost lunged at Steve to wrap your arms around him. Steve was trying to do the same; not to take you by the waist and kiss your forehead before descending to your lips. The past week had been hell being apart; the phone bill would've been terrible if Dustin hadn't brought his portable radio tower to chat with you during the nights. You had to endure not only Dustin's teasing but also Suzie's sharp impertinence, who had no qualms about subjecting him to a tough interview involving feelings and too much adult talk that those kids shouldn't have to handle.

"I can't believe you're already here!" you greeted them with a big smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Dustin's mom is making dinner for all of us, and Dustin wants us to go so his mom won't ask too many questions about Suzie," Dustin grinned from ear to ear.

"Hey, I won't be persecuted by the inquisition, and you guys will have the best dinner ever - everyone wins," Dustin said with a smile

You raised an eyebrow and then burst into laughter

"I'm happy for you, Dustin, and I'm glad to know you can stop swearing for a while," you laughed and tucked your hair behind your ear, "and you?"

Steve started his car and shook his head.

"A nightmare; Suzie is like the female version of Dustin, but smarter and with better hygiene."

Dustin, far from being offended, seconded his friend, agreeing.

"I would be offended, but she's my girlfriend. Of course, she's better than me!"

You turned back to Dustin, smiling proudly.

"I'm glad you had a good week and that you've been kinda approved by Suzie's parents"

Steve pulled the car out of the parking lot and took one of the alternative routes to the Avenue that was being fixed. Since the last incident, Hawkins had been left without a mayor, and new elections had to be held once the situation was contained. The government, of course, decided that a large sum as compensation for the huge civil and structural loss wouldn't hurt, and the mayor's first measure was to start renewing Hawkins' roads and improving the civilians' common areas, as well as generating new jobs and housing. Once you all saw Nancy's mother cutting the ribbon for Hawkins' improved school, you knew Nancy had brought out all her qualities and problem-solving abilities from her mother.

She said her mother had been restless for a while. Nancy had noticed it even amidst Karen's unsuccessful efforts to mask it with a smile, neatly painted nails, and a new perm in her blonde hair. That was until after the huge disaster in Hawkins, Nancy dared to encourage her to run for mayor since many people knew her, and she really had good ideas to improve the town. Besides, nobody wanted the story of a new Larry Kline to repeat itself. According to Mike, his mother couldn't stop laughing at Nancy's suggestion until she realized that the only one finding it amusing was her, and that Ted seemed incredibly serious. When the table fell into a dead silence, the man spoke, shrugging, "And why not?" he said, "Holly will be entering school, Nancy will be going to college, and given Mike's grades, we'll probably have him for an extra year," he sarcastically mentioned the latter and then smiled at Karen, "You run this house perfectly; you can handle a town that clearly needs someone like you." And that was it, I mean, how could anyone refuse a reinvented Ted who had suddenly earned the respect of his family and all he had needed to do was support one of his oldest daughter's brilliant ideas?

When they arrived at Dustin's house, Claudia had already set the table and had the rest of the kids eating snacks in the living room. Claudia was the first to strangle Dustin in a tight hug, kissing his cheeks and forehead, and even though Dustin complained beneath the teasing giggles from the rest, you knew he enjoyed it.

"Oh, oh," Claudia murmured minutes later when they were all seated at the table as she got up to get an extra napkin for Eddie, who was at one end of the table sitting next to Steve, "Here, honey, we don't want that jacket to get ruined with meatball sauce."

Eddie smiled, covering his chest with the napkin and looping one end around his neck.

"Thanks, Mrs. Henderson."

The woman smiled.

"Oh, honey, call me Claudia, I've told you already," she patted Eddie's back and Steve's, "Oh, Lord! Did you get hurt in your mechanics classes again, Eddie?"

Eddie looked at the back of one of his hands, which was covered with a kind of translucent plastic fabric.

"This?" he waved the hand in front of her, "No, don't worry, it's just a new tat I got; I'll show you soon."

Claudia smiled again, concern leaving her face.

"Oh, that's fantastic," she encouraged him, returning to her seat and starting to eat.

"Fantastic?" Lucas frowned.

"Mom, you hate tattoos," Dustin reminded her, exchanging looks with Will and Lucas.

"Know what?" Claudia put down her fork to look at Dustin and shook her head, "This boy has shown me that I shouldn't judge a book by its cover and that tattoos are... what did you call it, Eddie?"

"Expression of the soul."

If she had rolled her eyes any harder, they would surely have popped out of their sockets, or so it seemed when Max adjusted her glasses and subtly reacted to Eddie's comment.

"Yes!" she pointed, smiling, then looked back at the rest of you who witnessed that exchange, "It sounds so good that I'm thinking of getting one myself."

"Mom, noooo," Dustin gestured without speaking aloud.

"I got this super talented buddy who'll do a bang-up job, Claudia," Eddie offered. "Just say the word, and I'll make a call."

"Oh sweet," Claudia glanced at Dustin. "Take notes." She got up again because she was Claudia Henderson, and she wouldn't be Claudia Henderson if she ever stayed quiet when you guys were around. "I'm gonna grab more lemonade."

"Just saying you can't get a tattoo!" Dustin said out loud with a little frown

"And why not?" Robin asked, sliding some noodles into her mouth with a smirk, like she already knew Dustin's response.

Nancy tried to hide a smile and lightly nudged Robin's arm, making her giggle and return the gesture. Jonathan seemed to catch the little exchange. Argyle didn't.

"'Cause it's old!" Dustin hissed a bit too loudly.

"Dustin!" You and Steve scolded him.

"Hey, Henderson," Eddie called out, and when everyone quieted down, he grinned. "Show some respect for my future wife."

That just made the rest of you burst out laughing and Dustin even more embarrassed.

"That's gross, man, don't go there, screw off," he spat out with disgust.

"What's up?" Claudia returned from the kitchen with another pitcher of lemonade and one of her smiles.

"Nothing, Claudia, just talking about how good this food is, right guys?" Eddie smiled innocently, and all of you except Dustin and Argyle had to bite your lips to hold back laughter.

"Of course," Mike was the first to chime in. "It's excellent, isn't it, El?"

She nodded silently beside him as she took another sip of her lemonade.

"Wonderful," Nancy twirled pasta around her fork with a smile.

"Better than my mom's," Robin affirmed.

"See, Claudia?" Eddie grinned innocently, making her blush at all the attention from you guys.

"Oh, how kind, and that's why I'll fill up your glass first," she offered, leaning in to fill Eddie's glass.

"Stop calling her Claudia," Dustin gestured without speaking aloud only for Eddie to understand

Eddie raised his middle finger subtly without Claudia seeing and shook his head, blowing a kiss with a huge smile.

After that, Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin decided to stay at home for a sleepover and D&D. The rest of you bid farewell to Claudia after El and Max decided to do the same at Hopper's house, and talked as you left Dustin's house to decide on the next plan for the night.

"What the heck are we gonna do?" Eddie stretched his fingers, loosening the rings adorning his phalanges.

"Yeah, bro it ain't cool that our social life depends on those little munch-truos," Argyle agreed with Robin.

You checked the time on your wristwatch and shook your head.

"Nah, guys, I'm in treatment, need to go yo bed early if I want it to work," you said, pouting a bit.

"What? Hey, will you be able to come to California with us then?" Eddie suddenly asked, becoming completely serious.

Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, and Robin turned to look at you impatiently. Argyle's cousin was like the Californian equivalent of Eddie and had been visiting during winter break when Argyle camr back too, something about wanting to see snow, and that's when he attended one of Eddie's performances at the Hideout. Anyway, he was fascinated by the way the band played. He said he knew an up-and-coming band that he knew would someday be big just like Corroded Coffin had the potential to be, and he was sure they could play with them at one of their gig at some California club. Nobody believed him, especially because Argyle had mentioned that once, at a party, his cousin had gone missing and they found him the next morning naked and huddled next to a dying bonfire. Surprisingly, Franco came through, and now he had catapulted Corroded Coffin to California where they would vacation and play for the wonderful band that was gaining fans on the coast. Of course, as always, all of you would travel to support them because, if you're there in the bad times, why not in the good times too?

"Of course, Eddie," you assured him.

"Plus, we wanna meet that band. Who can be named Billie Joel Armstrong and not be cool?" Jonathan raised a half-smile, hugging Nancy who smiled back, snuggling against his side.

Quickly, his blue eyes locked onto yours.

"You owe us a girls' night out," she reminded you, pointing at Robin who raised her eyebrows with an enthusiastic smile.

You laughed.

"I know," you replied, burying your hands in the pockets of your knit vest. "I gotta bail, guys," you bid farewell to everyone, including Steve, and he stopped you as the guys started walking to their cars to go somewhere where they would surely drink and chat.

"Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you're going alone?"

You looked at Steve on the sidewalk as his warm hand embraced your shoulder.

"Steve," you whispered with a smile, "There are no more demogorgons."

"I know, but there are murderers and creeps, and I'm not gonna let you walk alone in the middle of the night to your house."

"But we're so close by," you complained, "and the night's perfect for a walk," you muttered, and Steve started guiding you along the sidewalk toward your house.

"We'll walk then," he replied with a smile and determination as he followed, nudging and massaging your shoulder a couple of times before letting go.

You wanted to tell him not to stop, but you remained silent.

"You don't have to take care of me, go hang out with the guys and catch up; this week, Eddie gave a demo to some guy from a record label in Indianapolis, Jonathan's gonna present an exhibition of his photographs, and Argyle finally managed to do that thing he does when he smokes; the rings that disperse in the air."

"Great achievements, apparently," Steve hid a small smile, burying his hands in the pockets of his blue windbreaker, the one that had torn while trying to kill a demodog before it could eat Lucas when they started coming out in droves from the huge cracks that formed after the big earthquake. "You've just summarized everything in a sec; I don't see what else the guys could add."

You tilted your head, looking at him almost sternly, but you couldn't manage it, not while he smiled at you in that way illuminated by the streetlights.

"The truth is, Eddie tells his stories very well, I think is becauseof those campaigns he made for D&D" you smiled back and kept walking toward your house, unconsciously taking slow steps to make the journey home longer and have a bit more time with Steve Harrington. "When's your graduation ceremony?" you asked then, breaking the silence.

"They're supposed to give us the exam results this week, and then they'll give us the date," he replied. "Hopper says I should invite my parents."

You nodded, knowing that would be another disappointment for Steve if his parents refused to show up.

"I agree," you nodded, then looked at him, shrugging with a smile. "It's one last effort on your part, Steve, and if it doesn't work, it won't be because you didn't try."

He raised a sad smile.

"I wish...you know, they were less like my parents and more like, I dunno; Claudia or Joyce, or your parents. Damn, almost all those kids have good parents, look at Mrs. Wheeler, Jesus...even between council meetings and events, she was at Nancy's graduation and Holly's ballet presentation," he almost lamented, tapping the tip of his sneaker on the pavement. "Now I'm whining like a baby," he frowned. "I shouldn't be bothered, I'm used to it."

You observed his anguish through his voice and his gaze. Steve had become very good at turning the pain from his absent parents into false indifference.

"Do you remember what you said once...? ...that time in the trailer. You said you wanted to have a family, kids, and go on a trailer vacation like that one..."

If it weren't for the night, you couldn't be sure if Steve's cheeks had flushed or not.

"What about it?"

You took his arm, and Steve could feel a slight short circuit in his nerves, as if a single touch of your hand sent signals from your body to his. He looked at you, waiting for your response, and you smiled at him proudly even before speaking.

"The point is, even in your plans, Steve, you broke the cycle. You'll have a beautiful family, you'll fall in love with this... wonderful woman who'll see the person we all see, and you'll have kids whom you'll support in every dance rehearsal, every soccer practice, and every darn Christmas recital because that's the person you've become despite your parents, not thanks to them," you let go and looked at him appreciatively, as if the words weren't able to contain what shone in your gaze. Steve wanted to figure out what it was.

He struggled to understand what the rest saw in him when his training officers told him that his effort was commendable or that he was doing really well, he didn't believe it. He didn't believe it when Hopper patted his shoulder, pressed his lips, and told him it would be a great honor to see him become an officer and then the next sheriff. He, Steve Harrignton, doing something more than just working for his father.

But when you said those things and looked at him in that way, for a brief moment, he believed he was all those things.

"Are you-are you...?" he stammered and tried to compose himself. "Are you going to be at the graduation?"

You let go and nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course, I'll be the loudest cheerleader in the front row," you promised, then kept walking without looking back at him. Sometimes it hurt just to see him for a few seconds. "I... I made a decision while you weren't here."

Steve put his right hand on his chest, pretending to be offended.

"How dare you?"

You laughed, shaking your head and biting the inside of your cheek.

"I'm going to stay in the university dorms," you replied. "I feel it's the healthiest thing to do. I want to keep studying, but traveling and having to say goodbye every Sunday is torture."

That sentence was like a kick in his stomach, capable of leaving him breathless, and he knew that, he had had enough of suffocating blows in his life to be able to say that this one was undoubtedly the worst he had felt.

He cleared his throat.

"That's... are you sure?"

You weren't, but you nodded. You thought about what the psychiatrist had said that afternoon, about pulling it out by the root and not putting a band-aid patch over it. She was referring to insomnia, but you supposed you could apply it to many things.

"Yeah," you finally said. "I mean, I'll still come back for holidays and vacations. It's just... three years, they'll fly by."

Neither you nor Steve believed that. You were lying, and Steve was helping you maintain that lie. He helped you hold it heavily all the way to your house. Because he knew it wouldn't be just three years. You were brilliant, and there was no way that in all your right mind you wouldn't want to get a master's and eventually a doctorate. It was like sand slipping through his fingers, only it wasn't simple sand, it was you, and he would be an idiotic selfish jerk if he tried to persuade you not to do it. There was no way you would leave university, and he wouldn't subject you to the torture of constantly saying goodbye to your family and missing them so much during the week. You had the right to choose, and you were doing it.

He said goodbye to you at the door of your house and did what he hadn't been able to do in front of Dustin outside the train station; he kissed your forehead, which felt as eternal as it was brief, and promised to call you as soon as he got home and help you sleep.

You wanted him to, but you also hated the idea. You wanted to feel eager to reinforce that decision that had been rummaging in your mind all last week, not to realize that if you missed Steve during the fifteen minutes it took him to get back to his car and get to his house, you didn't want to know how much you would miss him if you couldn't see him for a whole semester.

So the summer passed, like a bittersweet orange blur of trips to the lake, afternoons in the sun at Steve's pool, whispered nights with his soft monologues inviting you to deep sleep, and more reasons accumulated as to why you fell more in love with him. Two weeks had passed since that conversation on the way home, when Hopper announced at a barbecue that they would throw a party for Steve to celebrate his graduation. Jim didn't say it, but you noticed from the way he hugged Joyce and held his beer without alcohol that he was proud of Steve and how much he had changed since the police found him fighting with Jonathan in that alley next to the movie theater. You screamed with all the force of your lungs when you saw him receive a Fitness Award and a Leadership Award with a smile as you had promised, and Steve didn't have time to miss his parents because all of you called your own to cheer for him and show him off as if he were their son. Your mother used to joke about it at home, saying she loved him like one but wished she could call him one, but that only depended on you. That summer passed, and you couldn't do anything about it, or maybe you could, but you didn't dare. You didn't even dare in California when you traveled in Eddie and Argyle's vans and spent nights on the beach and watching Eddie and his band rehearse to play alongside Billie's band, who did exist and yes, was pretty good. Not even after having that conversation with Nancy while trying on clothes at South Coast Plaza.

It was the day of Corroded Coffin's big concert, Nancy and you had decided to buy an outfit according to a great Rock concert at The Whisky a Go Go, one of the famous venues in West Hollywood where emerging bands usually performed.

As they ate ice cream and dragged their bags, you decided it was time to talk to someone about it. If not with Steve, then with the only person in the world who could perfectly understand how you felt. The only other person who had fallen deeply in love with Steve and had broken his heart.

"Nance..." you spoke after a moment of silence while you had taken refuge in the least crowded corner of the food court. "I need to tell you something."

"Okay, go ahead," she asked after seeing that you were having trouble continuing the conversation you had started.

"I have feelings for Steve," you said, after discovering that there was no correct way to say it except to say it.

Nancy looked at you for a few seconds with her huge eyes and then raised a half smile.

"No shit."

She resumed eating ice cream, and you resumed breathing.

"I know there's an unspoken policy about dating a friend's ex, but I promise I have no remote intention of dating him. In fact, I fully intend to take all this and bury it with... I don't know, Henry Creel?" you asked nervously, earning a laugh from Nancy.

"You're too funny," she replied. "Listen," she sighed, "Steve doesn't belong to me. He can date whoever he wants, and honestly, I'd rather it be you."

"I'm not going to do anything about it, Nance. I'm going to college, and it would be very complicated," you said.

She snorted.

"As if you're not magically going to miss him just because you don't dare tell him you love him," she muttered, savoring her strawberry ice cream with sunglasses still covering her eyes.

"Nancy, it's your ex-boyfriend we're talking about."

She smiled, even with the cone in front of her mouth.

"Yeah, I know. He broke up with me, and then I broke up with him, or something like that. The truth is, we've never really agreed on that."

You looked at her, not understanding how she could be so calm having this conversation with you. You hadn't even said you loved him out loud yet, and you already felt like your body was catastrophically sweating. Seriously, this couldn't be normal.

"It's... your first love, the person you experienced everything with... how do you compete with that?"

Nancy left her ice cream and looked at you seriously.

"You don't have to," she settled next to you to face you. "It's true, there's a lot of our history with Steve that I'll always cherish, but you don't have to compete with that, believe me," she affirmed confidently. "Steve... was different, and I was different. I broke his heart; my relationship with Steve taught me the wrong way I can love someone. We were both so... childish and selfish, we distrusted each other and hurt each other. It was love, but it hurt, and it shouldn't hurt," she confided in you. "And not content with that, I almost made the same mistake with Jonathan," she added, almost embarrassed.

You watched her for a good moment, then picked up that ice cream that was still halfway through in your hand.

"I've always felt a little jealous of you, you know?" you admitted and laughed nervously. "You saw it, Nance; you saw who Steve was behind all that facade."

"In those days, I just wanted to fit in," she said.

"But you did see through him," you smiled. "Nancy Wheeler always one step ahead of all of us."

She glanced at you sideways and smiled.

"Well, if we're admitting our female jealousies, I must say I've always envied the way you talk about what you feel; I've always wanted to be a little like that, I mean if I had spoken clearly about my emotions, I probably would have avoided a lot of misunderstandings," she shrugged, and then smiled sadly. "You've always been able to start the most difficult and most necessary conversations, so please, let this not be the first time you're going to stop doing this, because if you don't talk to Steve for real, I'm going to be tragically disappointed."

You couldn't promise her that, because you knew you couldn't keep it.

After that unforgettable night for Eddie and the rest of the members of Corroded Coffin, they returned to Hawkins, the kids to their first day of school, Nancy to pack for her first year of college with Robin, Eddie to work, Steve to wear his police suit, and you to move to the University.

If you thought saying goodbye to your parents and Steve was painful before, now facing the prospect of a whole semester away from them was even worse. You felt a terrible knot in your chest, it hurt so much that you believed it couldn't be good for your health, and you tried to convince yourself all the way to Indianapolis that you had definitely made the best decision.

"Hey, wait," Steve called to you before you entered the building and he left. You turned, trying to hold back the tears and not letting him see how pathetically they were following an invisible path down your cheeks. You looked at him, and he seemed suddenly lost, as if he weren't this adult guy who had to do away with his self-proclaimed best feature to fulfill the obligation of short hair at the Police Academy and thus do what he was destined to do; take care of others honorably, but a little scared little kid.

You raised your eyebrows.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't let Lewis intimidate you again. You fought against many monsters for you to let a simple human belittle you when clearly you don't deserve it."

You smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Steve."

"There's something else," Steve looked at the building behind you and nervously opened and clenched his palms.

You looked at him curiously.

"What?"

"You won't have a phone in your room," You confirmed that statement with a nod, and then he walked to his car to take out a shoebox and hand it to you. "I... did this; it's the best idea I could come up with, there's also the radio, but you'd spend too much on batteries, and this is something similar, right?" he asked when you opened the box to reveal a large number of homemade cassettes. "I recorded myself talking; most of it is nonsense, but that's not the point of all this, right?" he smiled. "It's so you can sleep."

You looked at him and the box, and his hands still surrounding the cardboard material next to yours, and you set that box aside to hug him in silence because the truth was that a thank you felt very little. Not even that hug felt enough. Steve sniffed your hair one last time because he wanted to memorize it. This didn't feel like a simple goodbye. Maybe he was being dramatic, maybe it was because of the words that were never expressed, or the fact that he simply loved you and wouldn't be able to do the most he had aspired to do in this life: share it with you, even as friends.

"Steve," you spoke and let him go to look at him, and it felt like a mistake, "you know you're very important to me, and I'm going to miss you very much, right?"

I love you, you make me happy. I feel protected even though I know I can perfectly be alone, but I prefer you to do it. You make me take care of myself. Everyone thinks we should be together, even me, but I can't bear the idea of you not loving me back. I love your hair, long or short. You drive me crazy in uniform, just like you'll probably drive all those available girls waiting for you in Hawkins crazy. I want that life with you; the house, the dog, the six little Nuggets, and traveling across the country in a caravan to vacation in California where Nancy and Jonathan will surely live when they get married. Where Eddie will buy his first house after his first world tour with Corroded Coffin. And where San Francisco is, the place where Robin will surely move to once she discovers there's a quieter and more acceptable place for her, where she'll surely take Will with her once the boy tells them about that part of him he's so terrified of. Where they'll be able to see their friends, and surely those six Nuggets will make friends with their kids because that was the life you wanted with Steve. Because I love you.

But no.You didn't say it.

You smiled. He smiled, kissed your forehead, and said goodbye.

And you suffered again as you watched Steve drive away in his car.

Steve had learned a few things from you. Remember that one time, Mike had been disrespectful to Nancy, and of course, you stood up for her. Mike didn't take it well; it was a stupid sibling fight, couldn't even tell how it started, but the kid got mad at you because it wasn't your problem, you weren't his sister. Steve wanted to yell at him, wanted to tell him he was a spoiled, ungrateful brat who still couldn't understand that he was loved by more people than he probably deserved at that moment. But you seemed to anticipate that situation because only the Lord knew how well you had come to know him, so your hand wrapped around Steve's arm, and your finger briefly traced circles on his wrist, as if calming him down, and you decided to give him the space the furious Mike demanded. Hours later, he saw you approaching him, where he had isolated himself that afternoon by the lake, not even Eleven could get close to him. He saw you timidly take his arm and link yours with his as you talked. The rest of you were preparing a bonfire, Dustin and Steve had wandered off a bit to make sandwiches while Dustin chattered about something he couldn't quite remember. From that distance, he could see you put your hand on his shoulder and smile at him, then you told him you loved him. Steve thought Mike would be embarrassed, would frown, and probably leave you there alone with just your words of affection, but no. Mike smiled shyly, scratched his head, and nodded back, telling you that he loved you too.

You had managed to turn the little spoiled brat into a functional human who had learned the power of saying "I love you" to his friends.

Steve then felt it, as if suddenly something sprouted from within him.

"Dustin, shut up for Crying out Loud," he stopped looking at you and Mike to look his little friend in the eyes. "I swear, Henderson, if you talk any faster, you're gonna make me puke. You talk too much," he gestured with his hands, met with Dustin's serious gaze, "You talk a lot, you're annoying, and I love you," he said abruptly, and after saying it, he realized it was something he had always wanted to say and that it hadn't been so hard, "I love you, dude."

He saw Dustin's bewildered look, who dropped the sandwich from his hands onto the rocks surrounding the lake and hugged Steve tightly, a gesture Steve had to accept because he had opened his mouth in the first place. He didn't look at him; he looked out at the water while unconsciously patting the kid. He heard him let out a small, almost imperceptible sob.

"I love you too, Steve."

That afternoon, he had learned that the best things must be said, and as he drove back to Hawkins after dropping you off at your dorm, he couldn't understand what had really stopped him from telling the truth. Maybe he just made excuses; there had to be a way for you to keep studying without feeling miserable about being away from home and for him to keep loving you without being afraid of not being what you deserved, what you needed, or worse; what you wanted.

But it was too late for regrets. You had a degree to pursue and he had a job to get to.

But he should have spoken, he should have spoken, and that was the repetitive thought that haunted him in the days and weeks after returning without you and with a defeated feeling weighing heavily on his shoulders.

It wasn't easier for you; you constantly found yourself daydreaming in class, and weekends were the worst; if you couldn't talk to your parents, Steve, or the rest of the group on the phone, you'd find yourself depressed in your room reading books and filling your notebook with poems dedicated to someone who would never know. The only time of day that became a bit easier was when you went to bed and put on your headphones, listening to Steve's voice. You had heard him talk about the silly things he did as a child to get his mother's attention and the time Dustin found him trying to climb to Nancy's window with roses. You never got very far in the narration; you always fell asleep quickly, but it wasn't until one particular night that your curiosity was piqued when you woke up from a nightmare and discovered that the cassette was still playing, and you heard Steve's voice talking about something very different from what he had chosen to talk about initially. You rewound the tape a bit, and as you tried to shake off the remnants of a nightmare you were starting to forget, you heard him, unintentionally falling asleep in the middle of his monologue.

"... sometimes I believe all those things," a weary laugh, "I can believe I'm capable of doing all that; because, you know? The real reason I thought I needed my parents' money to sustain myself was that was the only thing that could keep me close to them in some way. Can't they love me? Fine; then let them give me something of themselves. But the thing is, they don't care. Dad stopped giving me money not because he cared about wasting it on me, but because he wanted to teach me a lesson, and it wasn't a life lesson like any parent would do. No, that's not Mr. Harrington's style. What my father wanted was to show me that I'm nobody without him, that my identity is to be a Harrington," he paused, as if it cost him every ounce of his oxygen, and you held your breath along with him, fearing that something would happen and prevent you from continuing to listen, "So... I don't know, Nancy was the first person I wanted to fight for, the one I wanted to get out of that bubble and challenge everything my parents taught me to value. Then when I no longer had Nancy, I realized that without the money, without that house, without the friends who kissed my ass... there was nothing in me to give to anyone else; I was empty," his voice sounded sad, "it was the reality check I needed..." the sound of the tape grain could be heard for long seconds before he spoke again, "And one day, there I was, Robin telling me all the reasons I sucked, and then you showed up with your smile and your hair and your eyes, and you were the same girl I saw all those years in school but at the same time not, and then you asked me what I was doing there. You did it while you waited for me to put your ice cream in a cone, you asked it as if we were old friends, people used to talk. I told you I worked there because I didn't want to work with my father," he laughed, "I don't know why I told you that. Then I handed you the ice cream cone, sure that you thought I was a loser, but you smiled again as if you saw through me. As if you knew exactly what I was talking about and you said, 'Well done'," he laughed again, "just that, you said goodbye to Robin, left me a tip, and smiled at me once more before leaving. I had so much to say to you that I just stayed quiet there at the Scoop's Ahoy counter while Robin put a mark on the side of the board claiming that I didn't suck as much as she thought and that was the first day of my life that I believed there was something more in me than the empty and frivolous king Steve who left high school without a care in the world... darn it, sweets, I'm going to miss you so much..."

You didn't realize you were crying until the tape ended and felt your cheeks damp. You wiped your tears and settled on your side for a sleepless night full of enormous curiosity. You repeated Steve's words to yourself, What would Steve have told you that afternoon in the ice cream shop if you had stayed a little longer? Maybe you wouldn't have to wait another week to see him again, when you went to visit Robin and found her translating a cryptic message in Russian with Dustin Henderson. Maybe things would have been different; maybe since Steve and you didn't quite know each other yet, he would have asked you out, but you would never know.

The next morning didn't help your mood starting with Lewis's class and his very disastrous grade delivery. He gave you a grade low enough that your lack of sleep, excess caffeine, and frustration got you out of your seat and led you to his desk with a furrowed brow and a lot of verbal vomit to let out.

"Can I help you with something?"

You nodded at the disdainful look from your narrative professor.

"Yes, I want to know why I can't get good grades on your exams even though I'm very good and I work very hard."

He looked at you for a few seconds like a snake studying its prey to know the best way to attack.

"Maybe because you try too hard; there's something sad about those who are always trying to please others."

You listened to his words attentively and then let out an incredulous little smile.

"I'm not trying to please others. I know I'm good, I don't need you to pat me on the head or praise me, I just want the right grade to pass this class and graduate the way I want."

He laughed, surprised at your words.

"Oh, is that what you want? Wanting and deserving are not synonyms; one thing is what you want and another thing is what you deserve, and what you deserve is right here in red numbers," he replied, tapping the paper of your exam.

You looked at him for a good moment. To this man with a superiority complex and remembered Steve, who was this bitter man next to Vecna? What was Lewis compared to a demogorgon?

"Allow me to disagree," you murmured back.

"And what do you deserve then? Enlighten me."

You thought about your options. You had a full scholarship like the rest of the group, courtesy of the government as a reward for saving the world without dying in the attempt. If you wanted, you knew you could get into any university just by saying please. You were sure that if you had been more petty, you could have managed to get Lewis fired because that's how much the government kissed all your asses.

You knew at least what you didn't deserve after years of fighting monsters and thinking you would lose your friends and family more than once: you didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve to leave everything you loved in Hawkins for a person who apparently had made it his life goal to ruin yours.

You leaned over his desk and smiled at him.

"Listen to me. You and I both know this is not my grade. You and I both know that for some reason, you hate me and I could live with that if you weren't constantly trying to sabotage me. You know why I'm here," you whispered seriously, "because I did something you'll never do in your life, judging students unfairly behind a desk, and you know that reporting your lack of ethics to the university council would be the easiest thing I've ever had to do in my life. So let's do this; keep hating me and see where that gets you. I'm going to leave my exam here again, and you're going to review it again. And since it's time for the end, I think you can handle me being absent from your class for the next few minutes, can't you?"

He called your name as you turned around and went to get your things from your seat, he was furious but trying to contain himself.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"What I deserve isn't here, Professor Lewis," you replied with determination, some students had started to notice the tension, "And I'm going to find it now. Remember what I told you," you announced with a smile and walked out of the room with a newfound courage you didn't know you had.

Steve missed you too much. Many afternoons he had been on the verge of taking his keys and driving to Indianapolis to visit you, but he knew that went against the whole purpose of you moving to the dorms in the first place. Sometimes he sat alone on his couch, the nights he missed you so much that it was impossible to sleep, and accompanied by a beer, he watched The Princess Bride while imagining that you were there saying how similar the actor who played Westley was to the former mayor of Hawkins, the one Powell had had arrested. Steve laughed because he didn't see much resemblance except for some gestures. It was a painful exercise, imagining you by his side, but it was the only thing that had helped him when not even going on dates with other girls had worked.

"Listen," Phil Callahan approached him with a smile as Steve filled out a form about a recent arrest he and Powell made last week when Mrs. Driscoll's vacant house had been vandalized.

"I'm busy, Cal, what do you want?" he muttered under his breath without looking at him as he wrote, concentrating on the paper.

"My girlfriend has a friend who thinks you'd like to meet her, she's a bit older..."

Steve set the pencil aside and looked at him.

"I'm not interested," he said, moving to the IBM to make a copy of the paper.

"Oh, come on!" Callahan protested, "She doesn't even look her age, seriously, she could pass for 23, 25?"

Steve sighed tiredly, touching his nose with his hands and then running his fingers through his hair.

"It's not because of that, Phil, I just don't want to, period."

He could see the disappointment on Phil Callahan's face as he shook his head.

"Is it because of your friend, right? The one who always carries that book, what's her name...?"

Steve frowned, and it was as if defense protocols within him started to kick in. Even before Callahan kept speculating about you, Steve began walking towards Hopper's office where Joyce and he were sharing lunch and laughter. He knocked on the door that was already half-open and entered the office, interrupting their laughter.

"What did you tell Callahan?"

Joyce tensed up in her seat, leaving the plastic fork in her salad container as she glanced uncomfortably at both of them. Hopper, on the other hand, seemed somewhat pleased, his eyes narrowing slightly, though he remained silent, watching Steve.

"Uh, I'll be going…" Joyce began to rise, grabbing her bag. She went over to Jim and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss on the lips goodbye, promising to see him at home that night. As she passed by Steve, she of course touched his shoulder and squeezed it gently before leaving the office and closing the door behind her.

Steve and Hopper shared a staring contest until Hopper adjusted his belt, the one he had to poke another hole in because he had lost weight since Russia, weight he had made an effort not to regain.

He gestured with his hand and spoke up, "Sit." When Steve complied, Hopper leaned back in his chair. "What happened?"

"Callahan wanted to set me up on a double date and I turned him down. He then asked me if it was because of a friend...so I knew you had mentioned something because who else would he talk to about this?" Hopper interrupted with a nod.

"Yeah, I might have mentioned a thing or two about you being in love with a lady who went off to study in Indianapolis."

"Why would you tell him that, of all the cops, to the most annoying one?" Steve asked, puzzled.

"Why not? I knew he'd say something and have you storming into my office, interrupting my quality time with my lady to give me a lecture I don't need," the police chief seemed totally content despite what he had said.

"Jim, you're not making sense and I've got a ton of bureaucratic paperwork to do," Jim rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows on his desk.

"If I hear you say 'I've got a ton of paperwork' one more time, I swear I'll kick you out of this station," he muttered, then covered his mouth with his hand thoughtfully and watched him, "You're miserable, Harrington," he declared, "You were one of the top graduates of the academy, you're one of the youngest people ever awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom for saving the world, not once, not twice, but five times from extinction. Everyone out there knows it; they saw the TV coverage and saw you receive the medal Reagan gave you, and yet here you are; walking around like a pre-programmed robot and bugging me about what I should or shouldn't talk to my police officers about."

"You did it on purpose!" Jim smiled at Steve's protest.

"Touche," he murmured, "The thing, Steve, is that it's really sad to see you like this. You're young, you're smart, you've got the looks, and you've been busting your butt at work. Last week you raided two drug houses, two!" he reminded him, "You need to slow down a bit and live, and you won't, I know, because she's not here."

That left Steve somewhat perplexed. "I… uh… Hopper."

He stopped him. "If you're going to deny it, don't even bother," he retorted, "You know what? You and I are alike." Steve snorted, earning one of Jim's pseudo-threatening looks. "Yeah, we are. Deep down, we're lone wolves. I lost my little girl, you've heard about that, right? I lost her and I wrecked my whole life; my marriage, my friendships. I breakfasted on whiskey and messed around with so many women I frankly don't remember their names, and it doesn't make me proud. I'd come home late at night because I preferred spending more time at the station than in my own place, after a long day to sit in my armchair, alone in my house, living on memories because I was too scared to make new ones," he admitted, "I had the love of my life right in front of me, and it wasn't until we faced a potentially dangerous situation that I realized I could lose everything I wanted without even having had it."

Steve, silent as a tomb, had to admit inwardly that, much to his dismay, Jim Hopper and he were alike.

"I'm sorry, Hopper."

"Don't be sorry," he replied, "I don't regret any of that because it brought me to where I am now, but I do regret that you have to put yourself in a similar situation when you have the choice to spare yourself and that brilliant young lady all that grief."

Steve furrowed his brow and shook his head somewhat nervously. "She already chose…"

"She's scared," Hopper said intensely, covering his eyes with some impatience, "Damn it, why do we have to explain everything to you guys?" he ran his hand over his face to his chin,

"Hopper, I appreciate your concern, but this isn't your problem…" Steve began to get up.

"It is," he argued.

Steve furrowed his brow. "It isn't."

"It is because you're my problem, kid," he pointed to the chair again, "Sit." Steve sighed wearily but obeyed his police chief, "I'm sorry you lucked out in the crappy parent distribution, but life's unfair, and honestly, you've managed to pull through despite not getting the love you deserved and needed," he murmured, "but you have us. You have me and Joy," he admitted, "She always talks about you guys as our kids, and I've never corrected her, you know why? Because you are, our kids. You're mine, kid. And when I see you sad or tired or angry, I'm going to try my damn hardest to make that stop," he let out that last sentence almost halfway, and for the first time, Steve caught a glimpse of the vulnerable man under the sheriff's facade, Hopper always wore. "Joy did it, Steve: without her, I'd be miserable," he half-smiled, letting out a soft chuckle, "I don't want you to reach my age wondering what could have been if you had gone to find your Joy and given your heart, so do me a damn favor," he settled back into his chair, "Get your butt off my chair, get out of my office, and take the day off. And don't come back until you've gone for her and gotten your smile back," he asked for the form paper that Steve still had in his hand. Steve was frozen, his stomach feeling light, and his mouth somewhat dry from the shock.

Jim Hopper wanted him like a son. Him; the real son of the person he used to hate in school. The guy who wasn't the easiest to deal with on earth, to whom he had given the chance to be and do something despite his fears.

He owed a lot to Jim.

He handed him the sheet and got up from his seat again to walk to the door, but he couldn't leave without saying anything, so he swallowed that lump in his throat and turned back to Hopper.

"Thanks," he barely managed to say.

He saw the sheriff's eyes somewhat cloudy with emotion and nodded.

"Get going, and tell Callahan I want him here in my office yesterday."

Steve gave a smile and left Hopper's office with a new mission that wasn't within that station.

"And?" Cal asked as he ate a donut with a relaxed posture.

Steve went to grab his favorite jacket, the blue windbreaker that had been almost destroyed by a demogorgon and that you had secretly stitched up to surprise him.

"I gotta go. And Hopper's looking for you," was all he said before leaving the station.

When you arrived in Hawkins, you took a taxi that dropped you right outside Steve's house. The huge house looked totally deserted, and the lights remained off. His car was not there, and only the distant chirping of crickets could be heard. You wondered what to do. You didn't want to go to your parents' house and explain your unexpected return to them without first telling Steve. You looked around the house and told the taxi driver he could leave. You'd wait, you told yourself as you sat on the stairs leading to his house. Yes, you would wait; after all, he had to come back at some point, right? So you took out the flashlight that Dustin made you all carry along with a pocket emergency kit and opened one of your books to start reading. If you had defied Lewis this morning, you wouldn't give him reasons to think you were a failure, oh no. Now you were even more determined to graduate from college with or without his approval.

You were not in your university dorms. Your roommate claimed that morning you had returned very early from your classes, grabbed your bag, and announced you were going home for a few days. That abrupt decision made Steve's gut twist with a bad feeling. What if something was wrong? What if you were having another one of your insomnia crises and all the recordings he had made for you had been useless?

So he rushed back to Hawkins with his badge in hand, ready to say his pregnant wife was having strong contractions if any interstate cop stopped him for speeding. When he arrived, he passed by your house and peered through the windows because he didn't want to alarm your parents if you hadn't gone there. You weren't there; you weren't at Robin's or the Wheelers'. And you weren't at Eddie's house because he had had to travel to the West Coast a few days ago. You weren't at Family Video, and you weren't at the lake. So, worried to the tip of his hair and distraught, he thought of one last place you would probably go back to in Hawkins. So he drove his car there and started driving to his house because he was desperate and really wished he could find you there. It was beyond just wanting to see you; it was about making sure you were safe.

The powerful headlights of a car interrupted your reading. You raised your hand in front of you to shield your eyes from the light. You closed your book and set it aside on the paved path when the lights dimmed, and you managed to recognize Steve's vehicle. He abruptly stopped the car, almost on the lawn of the driveway, and got out of the vehicle quickly, slamming the door shut without the consideration he usually gave to his BMW. You waited standing in front of the door of his house and saw his worried expression.

"Are you okay?" he asked when he stopped in front of you, studying you, as if making sure you weren't harmed.

You furrowed your brow. "Yeah, of course, what's wrong?" you asked when you saw him covering his face and running his hand through his hair with relief.

"I… I went to Indianapolis to look for you, and you weren't there. I thought something had happened to you."

"You traveled all the way there and back?!" you asked, seeing his disheveled hair and the traces of concern in his eyes. Then you took him by his arms and nodded. "I'm fine, just… I missed home and needed to come back."

He nodded silently, allowing himself to breathe and then pulled you to him to envelop you in his arms and breathe in your shampoo again. Steve closed his eyes and enjoyed the scent for a few moments. It had been a long time since he had smelled that scent, and it felt like a damn eternity.

"I came home because I confronted Lewis," you said finally, still with your face against Steve's chest, your hand inadvertently brushing the fabric of his uniform, which could be seen under his windbreaker.

Steve opened his eyes and let you go, enough to be able to look you in the eyes with curiosity.

"What happened?"

You made a somewhat embarrassed grimace.

"I may or may not have used America's debt to us for our heroic sacrifice to threaten him with getting rid of him if he keeps using his privilege to treat me unfairly," you said, then tilted your head, "or maybe he thought I'd get rid of him like with the demogorgons, but either one works if I want him to leave me alone once and for all."

Steve raised a smile, and the small laugh he let out turned into a bright laugh.

"You're… you're…" he looked at you, embracing you by your lower back and pulling you closer to him, "Joy," he murmured thoughtfully, remembering Hopper's words and starting to laugh, "Damn it, Hopper."

You furrowed your brow and looked at him confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"I had…" he slightly tightened his grip on your back as if giving a small caress, smiled with a look of disbelief on his face as he looked at the ground, trying to find the right words, "...the must surreal conversation with Hopper, and he told me I should look for my Joy, that's what he calls Joyce, so I thought he meant a person to love, but it's more than that, isn't it?" he smiled at you.

You studied him with confusion, unable to understand him.

"I heard your recording. It was about the day we saw each other at Scoop's Ahoy, I didn't even remember what we had talked about that day; you told me about how you didn't want to work for your father so you had chosen to work there instead," you smiled, "It was brave, Steve," you smiled and then swallowed hard, looking at the ground, you were still very close to Steve, maybe you had to take a step back and clear your mind? But his arms still surrounded you, and it felt good, and there was a chance that after this, this would be the last time he would hold you like that. "In the recording," you finally said, "you said you had a lot of things to tell me, that day at the mall, what was it, Steve?"

He observed you in silence, and one of his arms let you go so his hand could comb the hair on one of your sides. His eyes studied your face, and he seemed calm, as if he had made peace with any thoughts inside him, he looked resigned, but happy.

"I don't remember," he half-smiled, "but I'm glad I didn't talk to you that day; I probably would've flirted with you in the worst way possible and invited you to a disappointing date. I would've missed out on everything else…"

You half-smiled, "Do you mean making me pee my pants while trying to save you and Robin from the Russians?"

He chuckled.

"Of your friendship, of… the trips, the afternoons at the lake, and of," he turned his hand to hug you, "this."

Your stomach churned with surprise, and you looked at him expectantly.

"This?" you asked ",What is this?"

He took a deep breath and never stopped looking at you for a second, called you by your name, and then rested his forehead against yours.

"I want you to be happy always, that's why I didn't stop you from moving to the dorms even though just the thought of having to miss you half the year was killing me," he admitted.

You furrowed your brow sadly.

"I wanted to leave because I couldn't bear the goodbyes every Sunday, but the truth is, what would break me the most would be having to say goodbye to you without knowing if while I was there you would meet your girl and suddenly forget about me," you confessed back, practically declaring your feelings for him to his face, "I preferred to run away than to have to see you all the time and just be your friend."

He closed his eyes with his forehead still against yours.

"You are my happiness," he whispered with his breath hitting you, "I want to love you."

"You've already been doing that," you murmured as you felt his nose touch yours and his face turned to meet yours, his lips meeting yours.

"Then I'm going to love you more," he promised just before kissing you.

That kiss didn't feel like any other kiss you had given before. It was as if you were finally home, and this was the way Steve welcomed you. The softness of his lips sent small electric shocks through your body; you could hear the beating of your own heart as Steve caressed your face. Steve smiled into the kiss; this was much better than he imagined every time he looked at your lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss you.

This made it real; Steve's dream and your dream becoming one.

When you separated, you didn't do it much, just a few inches, enough to breathe and look at each other with fascination. It felt like the first time Steve saw you.

"Did you visit your parents when you arrived?" you shook your head, and Steve smiled, "Do you want to stay?" he asked, and you nodded again, still catching your breath and unable to speak yet. Steve laughed and then moistened his lips with his tongue, combing your hair, "Do you know what that means?"

You shook your head, "What does it mean?"

Steve lowered his hands to your thighs, lifting you up in the air, and making you cling to him, hugging him with your legs as your arms wrapped around his neck.

"You're going to sleep like a rock ronight, Babe," he said with a laugh, and you cradled his face to give him another kiss while Steve walked to the door and opened it quickly with you still in his arms.

He didn't let go of you, not even when he put you in bed with him and talked to you until both fell asleep.

The next morning, Steve arrived late at the station, his hair still wet, and he entered apologizing, but from the expression on his face, he didn't seem to regret it. The smile never left his face, and Hopper hid his behind his coffee mug when he saw him leave in a hurry as soon as the shift ended.

Well, now he had a reason to go home.

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington comfort #friends to lovers #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington

[letters-to-rosie]

You said last month that it's not Ekko if he's not involved in activism, anarchism, just actively doing shit to make a change. I absolutely agree. But you also said you "come out of a particular background and that means [you] have certain thoughts and approaches to social change that leave out things that others do and are involved in". Would you please elaborate further on that? Not just for writing Ekko, but for the sake of knowing and maybe applying to real life. You made me curious.

So I sat on this for a while not because I didn't want to answer it but because I wanted to answer it thoughtfully, and I've typed out some things that didn't feel right, but I'm going to try again now.

I tried to find the exact context for where I said that and I failed lol so I am working off memory, but again I will try.

So in terms of background, I'm a Black American. When I was young, I pretty much assumed that my family history would be depressing and I didn't want to look into it. And some of that is there: family trees that get lost once you hit enslavement, dysfunction you can pretty much trace right back to that period, having to explain to people that your family is on the light side not because of consensual relationships but because you're from one of those states that exported slaves, you get the deal. A byproduct of this is that by the time I was an adult and wanted to dig into it and found that there was actually a lot to learn, many of the elders I wanted to learn from had passed on.

That, mixed in with me trying to understand my... financially turbulent?? life led me to engage with black radical thinkers as an adult. And that led into left-wing politics in general. So that's like half of it.

The other half is I've always been the type of person who likes a hands-on problem. My approach to social change has always just been "find a problem and throw myself at it." And that translated into a social service background. Even now, to pay for my classes, I work in social services at my university, still throwing myself at a problem that's sort of followed me around for a decade or so now. I'm not in love with the conditions of trying to fight a problem within the walls of an institution that helps perpetuate them, but for me, the immediacy of people's needs supersedes any need I feel for ideological consistency.

On top of that, I study race. And media. So imagine my excitement when I see Ekko!

I don't know that I've ever encountered a character who checked so many boxes. He sees problems and throws himself at them. He practices radical compassion with people struggling with substance use. AND their victims. And even though he's fighting Silco, he knows that the problems in the city go straight to the top (I oughta write a fic someday where he does make it across the bridge and gets to yell at the council because he so deserves that).

He grieves. I've said before that grief is the emotion that has most defined my adult life. I feel like I'm always grieving. And Ekko models how you do that and keep moving. Rather than giving into the hopelessness of the setting, he creates a place where people can heal and be their best selves. AND HE HAS NATURAL HAIR!!! My natural hair journey is another story but it's honestly tied up in all of this lol.

He's like a treasure trove of things that matter to me, honestly. I'm not even sure how much I realized it at first. But as time passed, I'd keep going back to this character and thinking. His revolutionary spirit is truly to be admired. And I think that evolution in how I've thought about him comes through pretty clearly in my writing, as I come to fully embrace a bottom-up style of conceptualizing revolutionary thought and practice. I know I'll grow and change as I get older, learn more, and do more, but at this particular moment, I think Ekko has a lot of value for me.

So what am I not interested in? Off the top of my head...

versions of the character that leave out that political dimension. I'm not inserting politics into the show. The division between what is political and isn't is a false one. If the politics aren't registering, that's because they're close to the politics of the status quo

which is not to say I think everybody has to write him with politics fully foregrounded, but I wish more people would, you know?

and speaking of the politics, not really interested in ones that aren't radical. Not trying to pass a certain purity test, but we can keep in mind that Misfit Toys shows Scar beating up a dummy Enforcer, in gear. Which they probably got by fighting them. Fun!

another thing I think is key and I would like to see engaged with more is that Ekko doesn't view people using shimmer as enemies. I honestly wonder whether the Firelights know as much as they do about Silco's stuff because they have members who formally worked in the syndicate.

and I bring that up because another thing that the show as a whole and Ekko's interactions with Jinx invite us to think about is not viewing anyone as too far gone. I think in the rush to clearly delineate good and evil, we make too many lines and ignore the material conditions that motivate and contextualize people's actions.

and on that note, I don't like to make Ekko a paragon. I think casting him as a pure soul who is working tirelessly for his people ignores his indignation at the situation around him and how he is actively choosing, every day to do the things he does. I like to keep agency foregrounded.

To close, I wanna share some quotes, because y'all know I love reading revolutionaries.

“It is necessary that the weakness of the powerless is transformed into a force capable of announcing justice. For this to happen, a total denouncement of fatalism is necessary. We are transformative beings and not beings for accommodation.” —Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed

“We have chosen a different path to achieve better results. We have chosen to establish new techniques. We have chosen to seek forms of organization that are better adapted to our civilization, abruptly and once and for all rejecting all kinds of outside diktats, so that we can create the conditions for a dignity in keeping with our ambitions. We refuse simple survival. We want to ease the pressures, to free our countryside from medieval stagnation or regression. We want to democratize our society, to open up our minds to a universe of collective responsibility, so that we may be bold enough to invent the future. We want to change the administration and reconstruct it with a different kind of civil servant. We want to get our army involved with the people in productive work and remind it constantly that, without patriotic training, a soldier is only a criminal with power. That is our political programme.” —Thomas Sankara, Speech before the General Assembly of the United Nations

“Let me just say: Peace to you, if you're willing to fight for it.” —Fred Hampton

#arcane #ekko #arcane ekko #rosie's writing desk #asks #i wrote a whole-ass essay #hope it was fun lol

[sysakiddo]

5 times Lewis confronted Sebastian about his writing and one time he did not have to

1.

“You're not even listening to me.” Lewis, for lack of a better word, whines. He has a deep crease between his eyebrows. Sebastian wants to tell him the wrinkle will stay there, just to see him panic. Though he manages to hide it, Lewis is really vain sometimes. 

“I'm kind of busy at the moment.” No apology. “You were saying?” 

The room is too hot and sticky for Sebastian to play mind games with Lewis. He wants to be alone and count down the minutes to when he can take a cold bath. 

Suddenly, Lewis moves quickly, soundlessly. He likes to remind Sebastian he is a cheetah, with or without a car. 

Sebastian does not manage to hide the tab he had opened. As a rule, these days, he is not fast enough. 

“Seriously, Seb? The Times crossword is more important than what I'm telling you?” 

“I would never dream of saying you're not the most important thing in the world.” the blond huffs, feeling mean now. 

He is very obviously fishing for a reaction and Lewis knows it. From previous experiences, he also knows the fight would not bring him any gratification. He smiles tightly instead, sitting down on the couch. 

Sebastian glares at him, hating how Lewis looks like he belongs there. Like there is no place where he belongs more than on the couch in Seb's driver's room. 

“I finally read your book. The one about the spies, Burning Snow?” he clarifies as if Sebastian doesn't know the plot and names of his own books. 

And look, Sebastian is still mad at whoever leaked his identity to the press. It is more than a month since the whole world discovered that he, Sebastian Vettel, four times world champion, is also an acclaimed author. He published all of his books under a pseudonym, which worked pretty well. Until now. 

The people in the paddock took it in stride. Out of them, who looked like they could write a book that became a bestseller long before his identity had been revealed? The bee rescuer is the only one fit for the job. 

Valterri was the first to go through the bulk of his publications, three novels and one book for kids. 

Your writing is pretty good. Maybe you should try and publish it someday :) 

The text from Valterri after he finished made him huff, but deep down, something in his chest had eased. 

Lewis, however, was weirdly evasive on the topic. He was apprehensive about reading any of Seb's work and only got to it when Valterri left all of the books on his desk, with a post-it note on the top. 

READ IT!!!

Immediately after finishing the first chapter of the first novel, he regretted not starting earlier. Uncovering the similarities between the side characters and the people in the paddock was a lot of fun. It felt like an intimate look into the story that Seb's readers wouldn't normally get. One of the characters, the one who actually holds the key to the climax of the story and is far more important than the reader would have thought at first, is based on him, he thinks. Lewis only puts it together at the end. It's the way the character's dialogues are written that gives it away. He thinks it fascinating to find out how Sebastian privately perceives him. He describes him with great detail, things that Lewis wouldn't think to notice about him even. The thought of being so closely watched makes the top of his ears heat up. 

Now, Sebastian is watching him, unimpressed. “You can read?” 

Lewis keeps ignoring him - it works most of the time. “My favourite was Thomas, naturally.” 

The top of Seb's cheeks turns bright red.  “N-narcissist.” He tries to keep his composure, shaking his head a little. The stutter exposes him and Lewis smirks like he has just won. And his trophy is sitting on a stool in front of him. 

“Well, I gotta run now. I'll come back with a review of book number two!” 

Seb is too overwhelmed to react before Lewis slips out of the door. He sighs, returning to his crossword.

2.

The next time Seb sees Lewis, he curses the way his heart flutters in his chest when he sees his smile. 

“I tried the recipe, you know,” Lewis lets his hand linger on Seb's forearm as he stops him in his stride. They are both rushing to get to the debrief on time. Lewis does not care. 

At Seb's quizzical face, he puckers his lips a little in annoyance. “The one from Freedom to Pheasants; what Matilda used to offer her cousins when they came over. I, of course, used soya yoghurt and I still had a little bit of the honey you gave me-” Seb opens his mouth to interrupt him but does not succeed. “I used almond butter and cherries instead of raspberries and let it freeze for a few hours. Why didn't you tell me sooner? It is delicious.” 

“We really have to go, guys.” the intern standing beside them looks like he regretted taking this job and would rather jump off the cliff than listen about frozen yoghurt treats for another minute. 

“Did you like it? The book, I mean.” Seb asked, feeling like a kid asking for compliments on his drawing. He regrets it almost immediately. Lewis flashes him a big smile, open and sincere, the sight only a few people are graced with. 

“Yeah, man. The dialogues were spectacular.” 

When Seb opens the freezer in his motorhome a few hours later, he is taken aback by a small white box with a sharpie-drawn smiley on top. When he opens it, five perfectly symmetrical yoghurt bites punch the air out of his lungs, like he missed a stair. With shaky hands, he fishes out one and takes a bite. The aftertaste of honey in his mouth makes his eyes water. 

3.

“Seb! Seb! Sebastian!” the whispering grows louder with each call of his name and Sebastian feels himself getting pulled out of the slumber. He groans loud enough for the woman sitting next to him, someone from McLaren's marketing team, to glare at him. 

“What?” he snaps at Lewis, the other man taken aback. He doesn't expect to see the dark circles under Seb's eyes, his ashen skin looking almost white. 

He gulps, worry bubbling in his chest. “Care to join me for dinner?” 

The German sighs, hunching in his chair even more. He jerks his shoulders, which Lewis takes as an affirmative response. 

A few hours later, every corner of Lewis' apartment is filled with quiet music. Seb is watching his every move from the bar stool in his kitchen. Lewis feels weirdly exposed like that, chopping onions for their dinner, even though it isn't the first time he has made dinner for Sebastian. Not by a long shot. 

“Daniel must have been thrilled,” he cuts the silence abruptly. Seb doesn't understand and makes a go-ahead gesture with his hand. “When he found out you based the main character on him, I mean.” 

“Oh,” Sebastian smiles bashfully. “You've read This room can not be eaten?” 

Lewis nods. The book for kids took him the shortest to read, naturally. To his bewilderment, he enjoyed it a lot. After he had finished, he immediately bought a copy for every kid in his family. 

“I don't think Daniel had realised Rick is based on him, actually.” Seb chuckles, his eyes lighting up in joy. 

Sebastian starfishes on the couch after they finish eating. Lewis pours them a second glass of wine and sits down next to him. Carefully, carefully. 

The German looks better after eating, though he still very clearly lacks energy. Lewis turns on the television, mainly as the white noise. 

He falls asleep in no time, and Lewis stands up to put the fluffiest blanket on him. He makes sure both his shoulders are covered, hesitating a bit before brushing the stray strands of hair out of his forehead. 

When he sits down, Sebastian whines softly and puts his cold feet under Lewis' thighs. 

Lewis lets himself hope. 

4.

The next time they see each other, Lewis is a few drinks in, talking a little louder than he usually would. Seb finds him laughing in a circle of a few of their friends. He is like a magnet, though he never fully realised how much power he holds in a crowd of people. 

“Birthday boy!” Seb beams at Charles, hugging him firmly. He already congratulated him this morning with a gift and a proper speech. Now, it's time to clink his glass with him, which, he personally thinks, is too old to do properly. 

Either way, he lets himself get lost in the conversation. Charles, Lewis and Daniel make it easy for the debate to flow without his input. 

“Oh, Seb, I almost forgot! Arthur told me to tell you he loved When I Was Older! He wanted to know if it would be okay to ask you some questions later.” 

The attention shifts to Seb after Charles' words. Stupidly, he can feel his cheeks flush. “Eh, thank you. I appreciate that. Sure, send him my way when you see him.” 

“He kept talking about the plot twist for days. I still haven't finished the first one - I'm sorry, I'm such a slow reader - but yeah, Arthur thinks the sequel is even better.” 

Lewis snorts. Charles whips his head towards him, surprised. The same goes for Sebastian. Sure, the reviews for the second book in the spies series were mixed. But he thought the bad reviews were biased - the book came out at the same time his alias got revealed. 

“You did not like it?” Charles asks naively. He hasn't been sober for hours now. 

The Brit looks affronted by the idea of liking the book. “I hated it.” he spits and, yeah. Sebastian is shocked at just how much those words hurt. He has no resources to hide it, so instead, he bares his teeth in a leering smile. 

To his great surprise, Daniel joins in. “Well, of course, what Thomas did was questionable, but that made the plot twist even better.” 

Lewis is not buying what Daniel is selling. “Nah, it was stupid and made no sense, man. Why would Thomas betray his lover if-” If he is based on me. He almost blurted it out, thankfully cutting himself off before he could do something he would regret. 

Still, Sebastian averts his gaze, bashful. The tension in the air is tangible and Charles, not wired to understand bad vibes, as he calls it, asks him another question. 

“Are you working on something now?” 

Seb looks at Lewis when he lies through his teeth. “No. I think I'm quite done.” 

5.

That's the reason why, three weeks after the party, when Lewis sees a post on his insta feed with Seb's picture and BOOK ALERT in big red letters, he clicks on it. He is doubtful at first, but then it turns out that, yes, Sebastian really published a new book during the winter break. It is a poetry experiment, explains Seb himself in the interview Lewis reads through. 

Unexplainably, his hands shake as he tries to google a page where he can buy the poetry collection. When he finally finds it, he curses. Seb wrote a poetry book in fucking German. 

He has no shame and immediately calls him to ask about the translation. 

“No, I do not think it will get translated.” Seb is wary. “Why?” 

“I would like to read it, that's all.” 

Seb snorts, can't help himself. Why would you want to read it if you hate my writing so much.

“Well,” he says instead. “I've told you a long time ago German could be useful.” 

Lewis pays big bucks to the publishing house to make the translation happen in the shortest time possible. He makes sure Sebastian has no idea he is the one who pushes for the English translation and pays off everyone, so it stays that way. 

Out of all places, they are in the aeroplane when it all falls apart. 

Sebastian is returning from the bathroom when he notices what Lewis is holding. 

“Jesus, don't read that around me.”

“Why?” Lewis asks. “You don't have to be weird about it. It's great.” Lewis wouldn't say he is a poetry guy by any means. But there is something about Sebastian's words that curl off pages, sticking like caramel and breezing through his chest like a breath of fresh air. Sebastian's poetry is shockingly emotional, exposing his feelings with a sort of bravery Lewis has never felt. Most of them are reflections, sweet or poignant. Lewis can clearly see the inspiration from the Swiss nature, and the relationship with his family. It's beautiful. 

Yet the ones that cut through his heart like a burning knife are the heartbreaking stanzas of unrequited love. And even though Seb states that not all poems are inspired by a personal experience in the prologue, Lewis knows poems like these cannot be fabricated. The one he's stuck on at the moment, Absolution, makes Lewis a bit dizzy. 

In the seat across from him, Sebastian shrugs. “If you say so.” 

“I mean, these love poems, man. They must have broken your heart. How come you've never told me?” 

The pronouns sit awkwardly on his tongue, and he watches Seb squirm a bit. 

“It did not feel like there was something to talk about. It would - I don't think it could ever work between-” he pauses, hauling a slow breath through his nose. He rubs his eyes with his right hand like always when he is agitated. He also forgets to use the eyedrops for his dry eyes;  Lewis usually has to remind him. “Between him and me, I guess. I could never be the one for him.” He trips over his words.

Lewis blinks, feeling all turned out. He tries to process the words that feel too much like a confession to him. 

“I doubt that, Seb.” He says earnestly. “I doubt anyone would find you anything but-” Perfect. 

Sebastian interrupts him, a painful grimace on his face. “Just - just stop.” Suddenly, he looks exhausted and resigned all at once. “You must know, Lewis.” 

Seb is not looking at him and misses the look of utter shock on his  face. “Me?” Lewis feels like there is cotton in the back of his mouth. “But- But I-” 

“You what?” snaps Sebastian, his face closed off now. He managed to build his walls high enough that it took more than a little love confession to make them crumble. 

Lewis' head spins. There is just no way, no way that Sebastian could wax poetic about him. It's hard to breathe, and his face turns splotchy red. 

“But you've never told me. Or reacted when I tried -” 

“Oh, trust me, Lewis, I would have noticed if you had tried.” 

“Sebastian.” he says, his voice breaking with the possibilities flashing through his mind. Sebastian is brave and he can be, too. “I have loved you for years.” 

Now it's Seb's turn to look shocked. “But- You always-” he stutters, unable to finish. 

“Come here,” Lewis beacons him over and Seb sits down next to him without hesitation. Lewis leans in and caresses Seb's cheek with his right hand. “You are very silly,” he presses their lips together and the feeling of Seb relaxing completely under him makes Lewis' fingers tingly. 

+1 

“Hurry up!” Sebastian is wearing an atrocious old flannel shirt. Lewis swears he has put it in the 'donate' cabinet twice already, yet it always finds its way back. 

He walks to the table where Seb sits, a big red box in front of him. “Open it,” he instructs and Lewis opens the lid. 

“I wanted you to be the first to hold it.” 

Lewis takes out the brand-new book in awe. When he opens it, the pages smell so good he closes his eyes for a second. He flips the pages until he finds what he is looking for. The dedication says: 

Love, I've seen it all. I've seen the sunrises in Africa, the sunsets in Asia. The sun shining on the Mediterranean, the snow melting in the Alps. I've seen fireworks meant just for me, the beauty of the never-ending road. Seeing you smile beats them all. 

For Lewis.

#sebastian vettel #lewis hamilton #sewis #f1 fic #f1 rpf #the monaco photo made me crazy #i am manifesting seb as a writer #my ficlets #monaco gp 2023

[hillbilly---man]

A list of my works on AO3

(they're all Saiki K fics at the moment but I'll add fandom categories to this post if I ever get a new interest lol)

It doesn't fit my plans; it's something I don't understand

Published July 11, 2021

Summary: Saiki is fascinated by Satou Hiroshi, and the people around him start to see that this might be more than just a platonic curiosity.

What is this feeling called love?

[Notes: Bittersweet ending. Nobody gets together. My insistence on theming these early fics after songs is pretty embarrassing now. I'm not proud of my writing here but the story is ok. I might rewrite it someday. Not bad for my first fic since like 2003 though]

Something Changed

Published August 11, 2021

Summary: Aiura wrote a letter to her soulmate the night before they were supposed to meet.

She's predicted a lot of things... how could she have gotten this one wrong?

[Notes: Another sad ending. The format of this is almost entirely an excited letter about the future Aiura imagined that would never come to pass. Not really much of a story happening here tbh]

Won't it be strange when we're all fully grown?

Published August 28, 2021 (INCOMPLETE)

Summary: With graduation quickly approaching, the psychics of PK Academy (and Akechi) worry that they'll drift apart. Luckily, they come up with an idea.

"Let's all meet up in the year 2030!"

A lot can change in a decade.

[Notes: Kind of like a psychicker class reunion where they're all adults with jobs and everything catching up. Future chapters were going to have almost a Scooby Doo vibe (with a twist reveal at the end about Aiura's husband!) I abandoned it because I posted some art and someone called my art creepy and it made the whole fic feel bad to think about. Maybe I'll get back to it someday. It's cool to see how quickly my writing improved. I was also super proud of how well I wrote Akechi's dialogue here]

Hotel Valentine

Published September 24, 2021

Summary: Toritsuka Reita is a pretty lucky guy. He somehow managed to not get expelled from PK Academy, he graduated, and he's avoided creeping on any living girls for a few months. To celebrate, the PK Psychics paid for a one-night stay in the fanciest hotel in Tokyo so Reita can creep on the ghost girl of his dreams. Pretty lucky, right?

Too bad things aren't going his way. He's being ignored by the staff, he's bored out of his mind, and he can't find the ghost girl anywhere. Some vacation, huh?

[Notes: Spoiler: Toritsuka's a ghost stuck in a nice hotel. This is based on a concept album that most of you have never heard but hear me out! It really has nothing to do with the Cibo Matto album of the same title except that the chapters are named after the songs and there are fun Easter eggs for fans of the album. Another slightly sad ending but not too bad]

Coffee & TV

Published August 27th, 2022

Summary: The new silence in her house felt heavy on Kumi's shoulders. Everything reminded her of Kumagoro... especially her grandson Kusuo, who has been coming to visit more often than ever before.

[Notes: this is my least popular finished fic and I understand why. It's about grief and the loss of a grandparent. It's about the unique pain that a psychic would have after failing to prevent that death. There's a sad twist that TBH I think I was a little too subtle with. One of my favorites]

Friendly Fire

Published January 8, 2023

Summary: Being an adult is great until the Problems start. Good grief.

30-year-old Kusuo's psychic powers have been pretty well controlled for over a decade. Why are things starting to go haywire all of a sudden?

[Notes: Friendly Fire my fucking beloved!! In this fic, Saiki gets essentially psychic multiple sclerosis and has to deal with some complicated emotions. I don't think it's a masterpiece or anything but it was cathartic to write and I'm in love with the versions of these characters that I wrote here. So much so that I'm writing a sequel just so I can write more of them. Also, FINALLY a happy ending!!]

Ramen Ikouze?

Published April 28, 2023

Summary: After being dragged to get ramen with Nendou every week, Kusuo starts to realize that it's not so bad after all.

[Notes: I love Nendou, he's so good. This fic is very cute and about their friendship. A couple of fun twists]

Saiki has Plans?

Published May 2, 2023

Summary: Saiki mentions having plans after school, and the overactive imaginations at PK Academy work themselves into a fuss trying to imagine what he could be doing.

[Notes: This fic follows around a bunch of Saiki's classmates as they gossip and snoop to find out what he's up to. It's my most popular fic for some reason]

A Bright Flash

Published May 13, 2023

Summary: Saiki develops an annoying new ability, and through some comedy series logic is forced to tell Teruhashi about it. She tries to be a good ally to her "newly psychic" crush.

[Notes: Teruhashi accidentally finds out about Saiki's new power and he's like "fine. I'm a psychic. But it's just this one power and nothing else."]

Heat Wave

Published June 6, 2023

Summary: There's a historic heat wave in Hidariwakibara, and some of our favorite PK Academy students end up running into each other while taking refuge from the hot weather.

A series of four standalone (but connected) stories taking place at the same time:

Aiura has a vision of disaster, and she and Nendou try to stop it

Yumehara gives Toritsuka some advice to improve his game

Akechi meets Teruhashi's brother

Saiki really wants some shaved ice from the kakigori stand where Mera is working

[Notes: The summary explains it well but also I weaved so many connections between the chapters (that are all happening at roughly the same time). It was also a lot of fun writing interactions between characters that didn't get much in canon. Also you can tell it was hot as hell when I wrote it because I definitely gave Saiki some kind of psychic heat intolerance lol]

Immunity

Published July 6, 2023

Summary: She didn't know why, but Kokomi was finally able to see the truth.

Why Saiki seemed to appear and disappear without explanation. Why it seemed like he always knew what she was planning. Why he wore those weird hairpins.

It was all so obvious now.

Saiki had psychic powers.

[Notes: The veil is lifted suddenly and all the truths that Saiki kept locked behind his mind control were revealed to Teruhashi. He and Aiura have a chat with her about it. Also this was the first fic of mine that an IRL friend read (to my knowledge) and his comment was something like "I don't know anything about your boy but he sounds autistic and gnc" and I took that as a fucking compliment! You know you've written Saiki right when people can see that shit from space]

The Disastrous Financial Situation of Saiki K

Published August 9, 2023 (IN PROGRESS)

Summary: Adjusting to his new limitations has been annoying, and now Kusuo (age 31) needs a car to get around.

Unfortunately, taking time off work has drained his savings.

How is he going to get the money for a car now?

[Notes: This is my sequel to Friendly Fire but it's a lot lighter in nature. 100-Yen-Man goes around doing stuff for Saiki's friends. There are mentions of his disability from Friendly Fire and it's plot relevant but I think you can catch on even if you didn't read the original. I haven't updated in a while but I am actively working on it!! A Yumehara and Makino chapter next and then a Toritsuka chapter after that. TBH this isn't my best work and it's pretty unpopular but I'm having fun and that's all that counts)

#i got my work done so as i promised.. this is my reward #this is for organization purposes and to get me thinking about the things I've written again #my fics #saiki

[theartofdreaming1]

Fanfic Tagging Game

I got tagged by the lovely @wurzelbertzwerg - thank you! 💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3? - 30

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

111,591 words (at the moment)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I'm writing for The Quarry and the Batfam fandom (primarily DickBabs and BatCat)... I have posted fics for The Flash TV series and Brooklyn 99 on AO3 in the past... plus, some other stuff that is only on my old fanfiction.net account (although I've been considering updating my old Young Justice fics, so I may post them on AO3 some day)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Um, Rush Hour, Partners, Knight in Shining Armor, Loveable Nerds and Superheroes and Thank You, Becky Cooper - except for Partners, these are all Flash fics, which is wild, because aside from Rush Hour and Loveable Nerds and Superheroes, both of which I'm still quite proud of, I don't necessarily think that my Flash fics are my best works, but okay ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

5. Do you respond to comments?

Sometimes? I often don't know what to say in response 😅- but I appreciate every single one of them sooo much! 💕

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

Okay... so this question prompted me to do some re-reading of my older fics... and honestly? Nothing on my AO3 account had an angsty ending to begin with ^^; So I had to go waaaay back, to my old ff.net account - and I think my Young Justice fic "Pain" had the angstiest ending (and even then, it's pretty moderate... even 17-year-old me was fairly mellow ;)

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

Hmmh... Maybe my Flash fic "Coming Home"? It certainly has a very warm and fuzzy ending ☺️

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not that I can recall, no...

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

Nope; smut is not for me

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

No, I don't really write crossovers (only multiple fandoms that already share a universe, i.e. Batfam-comic fandom)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

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

Nope - since I'm a very slow writer, I wouldn't want to punish any potential co-writer of mine with that curse either...

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

To write? Hmmh... BatCat and DickBabs for sure! (Plus, LauraMax are getting there, too... I just need to give them some time to cement their position ;)

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

Oh boy, there are plenty of fics I'm worried I'll never finish... but I choose to stay optimistic enough to think that I will, someday, finish all the WIPs that I want to finish... (please, writing Gods, please help me accomplish this task!!!!)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Umm... I like to think that my writing is quite, um, pleasant? What I mean is, that it's pretty accessible (not too convoluted or complex, but also not boring) and while I sometimes write angsty/tense/sad moments, my stories generally have happy endings... And even though my writing isn't exactly groundbreaking, I still stand by all the ideas/concepts behind every story I've written so far, so... yeah...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The process of writing itself (I have to fight for every single word I commit onto the page... I swear, me and writing are engaged in the most tedious wrestling match nobody ever wants to see... ever). I get excited for a particular story, start to jot down some basic ideas, maybe even put in some research for a few points that need to get tackled beforehand - and then psyche myself out of being able to write down that dang story 😩 (Doesn't help that I have a hard time making decisions and get super intimidated when faced with all the possible directions a story could go)

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

Depends on the context - if we're talking about two foreigners (e.g. Germans) that are talking to each other in their native tongue and maybe don't want to be understood by the people around them (who, for the sake of this argument, are all English speakers) - then, maybe I would give it a whirl, because it would fit the idea behind the conversation (especially if it's a short exchange that people, who would be interested in learning what the Germans said, could look up via Google translate) - but, imo, this only works in very specific circumstances and for short exchanges - otherwise it can get tedious real quick... and personally, I don't like writing in German and don't feel confident enough in my Spanish skills to attempt it for that language, so writing English all the way is it for me

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Um... a quick look at my old, old fanfiction.net account tells me that my first posted fanfic was for the "Sonny With A Chance" fandom when I was 14 years old - the writing is a little... rough, for sure 😅 (although, to be fair, this was written at a point when I had only had, like, 3-4 years of proper English class... all things considered, it's not that bad)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Don't make me choose, I can't pick just one!

I very, very much love my BatCat fic "The Chase" - it just feels like pure Selina, the pacing of it is great and I think it portrays Bruce/Selina's relationship dynamic so very well (plus, it has some of my favorite sentences I've ever written in there!)

I also love Partners for being the longest, most ambitious story I've written so far (yes, despite the fact that I still need to add that epiogue!) and On the Reciprocal Attraction of Heavenly Bodies has the potential to become my best fic of them all, with the Austen-esque writing style and all the historical and literary research I plan on putting into it... I'm certainly very fond of the two chapters that already exist.

And This Is Not Over, But Just the Beginning is so fun and challenging in a different way; being a Quarry fic, with the whole werewolf element, it's darker and more angsty than anything I've written in a long time - but that's what makes it so fascinating for me to write (and read)

I'll tag @queenofbaws @thychesters @rosegardeninwinter @icequeen-07 @clearbluewaters and @mollywog - only if they want to, of course! :)

#I'm feeling so attagged right now #about me #I write sometimes

[foxes-that-run]

20 times it was always Haylor

Harry and Taylor often write that the other is irreplaceable, though they are built to fall apart and get back together.

I have limited myself to only 10 songs each which was hard!

Taylor:

Out of the Woods: "We were built to fall apart / Then fall back together / (Back together)"

End Game "I hit you like, "Bang" / We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't" and "And I can't let you go, your handprint's on my soul"

Ready for it: "And he can be my jailer, Burton to this Taylor / Every lover known in comparison is a failure"

Daylight "I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you"

Cruel Summer "And I scream, "For whatever it's worth I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?" He looks up, grinnin' like a devil"

DBATC: " I look through the windows of this love / Even though we boarded them up / Chandelier's still flickering here / 'Cause I can't pretend it's ok when it's not" and "You said it was a great love, one for the ages / But if the story’s over, why am I still writing pages?"

The 1: "And it would've been sweet / If it could've been me / In my defense, I have none/ For digging up the grave another time / But it would've been fun/ If you would've been the one"

Gold Rush: "And the coastal town / We wandered 'round had never / Seen a love as pure as it" and "My mind turns your life into folklore / I can't dare to dream about you anymore"

Question..?:"Cause I don't remember who I was / Before you painted all my nights / A color I've searched for since" and "Does it feel like everything's just like / Second best after that meteor strike?"

Snow on the Beach "Life is emotionally abusive / And time can't stop me quite like you did" and "Weird but fuckin' beautiful / Flying in a dream, stars by the pocketful / You wanting me tonight feels impossible"

Harry:

Stockholm Syndrome: "Who's this whisper telling me that I'm never gonna get away?" and " All my life, I've been on my own (Oh-oh-oh) I used the light to guide me home (Oh-oh-oh) / But now together we're alone /And there's no other place I'd ever wanna go”

I love you: Harry wrote for Alex and Sierra: "Cause I love you, more than you think I do / And I love you, now you don't want me to" and "Every time I try to fight it, everything just turns out wrong /Maybe if I got my timing right, I wouldn't end up alone"

Maybe Someday Harry wrote for Micheal Buble: " For her I bend, for you I break / And if I can't be yours now / I'll wait here on this ground / 'Til you come, 'til you take me away / Maybe someday"

Meet me in the Hallway: "We don't talk about it / It's something we don't do / Cause once you go without it / Nothing else will do"

Sweet Creature: "Wherever I go, you bring me home / Sweet creature, sweet creature / When I run out of road, you bring me home"

Fine Line: "You've got my devotion But man, I can hate you sometimes" and "You sunshine, you temptress / My hand's at risk, I fold / Crisp trepidation I'll try to shake this soon"

Golden "I know you were way too bright for me I'm hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky" and "I can feel you take control (I can feel you take control) / Of who I am, and all I've ever known Lovin' you's the antidote / Golden"

Adore you: "I'd walk through fire for you / Just let me adore you/ Like it's the only thing I'll ever do"

As it was: "Seems you cannot be replaced / And I'm the one who will stay, oh" / In this world, it's just us / You know it's not the same as it was"

Music for a Sushi Restaurant: "I don't want you to get lost I don't want you to go broke / I want you / It's 'cause I love you, babe / In every kind of way / Just a little taste / Know I love you, babe"

Ok one more

#haylor

[longeyelashedtragedy]

Frank James Lampard OBE 👀

ougughgh, you whipped out the order of the british empire? 🫡 😳 maybe i was wrong to judge them teaboos back in the superwholock days (that's a JOKE)

@protect-daniel-james i'll respond here but i might use your ask to post some more Photos cause i'm not sure how to pick just one photo of the Long Eyelashed Tragedy

favorite thing about them: uhhh...so much? he gets me right in the FEELS, man. he tells on himself constantly and seems to be completely unaware. sadboi footballer with pretty dead eyes who loves to Read and took a little notebook with him on the team bus. the intersection of having it easy/privileged childhood & traumatic things that shouldn't have happened--i relate. exhilarating to watch his old performances and he seems like he'd be fun to have a conversation with. fascinating to analyze, this all feels sort of reductive...i'm very Fond of him and some of it is hard to put into words, but i feel very "what's not to love?" about him lol. and he has such a Narrative. he's very easy to write about though it probably doesn't turn out well at all (sounds great and deep in my head though)

also i find a lot of footballers hot but don't really experience significant attraction to them but he is an exception you know what i'm just going to end this here

least favorite thing about them: he lost weight after everton BOO HISS

favorite line: omg, frank james lampard OBE is funny because he's often so intelligent and articulate and then just whips out the WEIRDEST/most cringe thing out of nowhere. some examples:

-his "fight" with klopp on the touchline

THIS wtfery:

these BANGERS:

this classic example of childhood trauma "too old when you're young and too young when you're old" (what some ppl would call "entitled male athlete" but like..i know better than that lol). it's also just patently RIDICULOUS he was like 36...bolding is mine for the classic lines

But it was while on a night out in Manchester during pre-season that the ex-West Hamer star showed his new American team-mates exactly how ex-Premier League stars like to party.

Columbus Crew centre-back Josh Williams was with NYCFC at the time and he told the story to the Athletic.

...“This place is packed, multiple levels. And as soon as we walk in, you could see everybody recognise Frank. And it’s just me, my teammate and Frank and all the energy is just on him.

"He picks up a bottle, this huge bottle of Grey Goose, picks it up, opens it, just starts downing it. Passes it to me and goes, ‘Boys, we’re not putting this down until it’s fucking gone.’”

The trio passed the bottle around three times when the rest of NYCFC showed up.

After about an hour in the club, Lampard approached Williams and asked him about 'that game you Americans play where you throw the little balls — he’s talking about beer pong.'

ok let's see...

brotp: random one but i recently learned that he and ian wright are friends? and i just love that so much both as a gooner and a person. wrighty complements him well and is very...respectful lol. if we consider lamperry to be only one-sided romantic, then definitely lamperry

notp: franko x steven gerrard...there's only One situation in which i've enjoyed that ship (and it was an au). it does nothing for me normally, and i personally don't find stevie g attractive, so! again, it's like an "ew get it away from me" notp, it's just not my vibe.

otp: i mean...lamperry requited. franko x cousin jamie jamie jamie ....maybe someday they can give romeo and juliet their happy ending. and of course, frank and mason...i just really like this ship so much and it keeps my brain so entertained...even though it's not "healthy" and doesn't end well. these ships are all SO good!!!

random headcanon: oh gosh idk...i don't think i have any "headcanons" because everything he says and does in public just kind of tracks. bet he's done coke lol. idk

unpopular opinion: HOO BOY!!! here we go!!! i am aware that i have a wooby nature, but i actually like that about myself. i'd rather approach someone--anyone with softness and then tone it down when i decide they're a dick, than be uncharitable for no reason. that's my way and that's how it's gonna be! so that said...franko gets accusations of "arrogance" and i...i don't see it at all. it might come from his disingenous press conferences at chelsea and everton, but i see that as a man who has horrid self-esteem, was used to being treated by media and fans like a Starboy, and once he started doing badly, had no idea how to handle professional failure--not one single idea. remember on "diary of a ceo" over the summer when he said his first chelsea sacking was the first time he's ever failed professionally? that's insane. Like, imagine making it to age FORTY-TWO and not having a legitimate school or career disaster. that's insane to me. so he just put up a front and got cranky and defensive and funky about where he placed the blame (and to be honest--he has not done a good job as a manager, but he also wound up in some pretty dismal positions. taking chelsea caretaker manager was really shooting himself in the foot because that season just needed to be put out of its misery lol). i'm not saying he's a bastion of humility, or some misunderstood coaching genius, but i don't see him as any more or less arrogant than someone else. idk--i see a weird level of contempt for him that doesn't really feel deserved? he's just a sad sack. sort of a hubris tale in a sense, but also a tale of a man who is still stuck as a kid in some ways...i need to stop before i write a really bad dissertation lol

uh that said...

song i associate with them:

finally a footballer i can give a good answer to this for!!!

name me a better combination than me x lamps x pink floyd x this summer! comfortably numb, shine on you crazy diamond (all of it, but particularly sections vi-ix), wish you were here...

(i know this sounds basic...i know there are more i'm not remembering)

"money" in some ways because i listened to it while writing "visited upon the sons" (it hit me afterward that the fic and the song are structured in the same way...the chicken or the egg?)

from the oooold first days of the lampardverse:

behind blue eyes/a well respected man

also! wouldn't it be nice kind of reminds me of him and cousin jamie loool

favorite picture of them:

dude idk! i really love looking at photos of him! this is granit levels of difficulty...i Cannot choose so let's go with this sad sack from the blessed everton days:

#anonymous #answered #long eyelashed tragedy #!!!!! #i feel like i just lost 78784 followers lol

[pluckyredhead]

🍊🍌🍐 for the emoji meme???

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

Tim Drake! I think Tim's relations with the rest of the Batfam are so interesting, I just have no actual story to put him in. Someday I'll come up with a long plotty Batfam genfic and then you'll see, you'll all see!

🍌 In your opinion, what’s the funniest joke/reference/pun you’ve made in a fic?

Unfortunately the one that immediately came to mind is from a WIP and it's so good I don't want to spoil it. But I will also say that almost every line I gave Bart in Say It Just One Time makes me laugh, especially this scene:

Jon moved, but Bart got there first, wrapping his arms around Kara and letting her cry. “Hey, it’s okay, we can still get married. We don’t need the rings. Or we’ll get placeholders. We’ll get Ring Pops! Or we can steal some money from Tim, he’s loaded.” “I would just give you the money, you know,” Tim said, but he didn’t look too annoyed, probably because the joke had drawn a wet laugh out of Kara. “There’s no need to try to make Drake feel useful,” Damian drawled, stepping forward and holding out a little velvet box. “The clone’s clone might be strong, but he’s too stupid to notice when his pockets are being picked.” Kara stared at him. “You...you got them back?” Damian shrugged. “It was a simple matt—oof!” He staggered back a little as Kara grabbed him in a hug. “Thank you,” she said, her voice still a little shaky. “Thank you.” Damian very clearly had no idea what to do with either the hug or the gratitude, but Kara let him go before Jon started feeling guilty enough to rescue him. He did take a quick step back when Bart approached, as if to avoid another hug, and Jon had to bite his lip not to laugh. “Thank you so much, Damian,” Bart said. “You were killed by your evil clone once too, right? We should form a club!” “We absolutely should not,” Damian said.

🍐 Is there anything in canon that you absolutely hate and love to fix in fics? A wrong choice made, a fuck-up in characterization, a misunderstanding never cleared up, a conversation never shown onscreen, etc…

Lian's death, hands down. You'll note that the only fics I've ever acknowledged it in are post-Infinite Frontier ones where she's already back.

Also in general I love to acknowledge relationships DC has forgotten about. Jason and Eddie, Roy and Grant...actually literally anyone and Grant...

Ask me more fruits!

#meme #i write things

[still-a-morosexual-help]

I really really hope you're right, this just killed my motivation for everything. What happened with Solomare's story jar already left a bad taste in my mouth too.

I know I'll feel better in a few days, but I felt lied to when they said they'd continue the story and the app. And it's going to be even lighter and fluffier and a replacement for the main story line? One that new players will perfectly fit into? I was so looking forward to learning more about what would happen to Simeon.

Also not announcing it until last minute? For once I'm really glad I can barely afford food, because I'd be devastated if I had spent even a dollar. But maybe that's just me being poor.

I'm mostly likely going to stop writing for a while until I've archived everything important from the app, which is gonna take ages just in case anyway.

But anyway, are there any recent events you thought were better than usual? I've been too sick to grind lately so I haven't unlocked them. I want to know which ones to archive as soon as possible once the six months are up.

Sorry for bringing the mood down and the rant, but you seem to be the only positive one I follow that isn't outright calling people stupid or pathetic for being upset so I'm really hoping your positivity rubs off on me.

I do hope you keep posting for Nightbringer too! I have several issues with my hands so I don't think I'll ever be able to see the end of the og story line, and I especially love your analyses out of anyone else's.

Okay okay so they are continuing the og app and continuing the story, the only difference is they'll be continuing the mainstory in nightbringer and the og app will just be getting events. So the og app will continue the way it has since the end of s4 and new main story content will be uploaded to nightbringer (the devs did says this)

Not sure what happened with story jar but Obey Me! is solmare's most popular game. Objectively, nothing solmare has created has ever come near to reaching om! And I'm talking purely in the money making side of it - the anime? mangas? songs? merch? cons? VAs getting heavily involved in everything? Solmare's a business. As long as there's a fandom and a demand for it they're not gonna kill the og app.

Plus the majority of om's content is on the og app, with new content and old events still being released. If they wanted to kill the og app they'd stop releasing new content and updating lonely devil.

Since nightbringer will be continuing the mainstory from where they left off, they'd also need to move all of S1-4 the chats, call & devilgrams to nightbringer if they were gonna kill the og - and I'd imagine that's more hassle than it's worth

I do think we'd learn more about what happened to simeon;

• devs said they'd be continuing the main story in nightbringer so that'd include simeon

• nightbringer's current plot is about time travel and mc trying to find a way back home - so they will end up back in the current time at some point, where simeon's whole thing can be addressed

• s3 established that luke wasn't alive when the brothers were angels. If they intended to keep mc in the past they'd either have to scrap luke's entire character (?????) or retcon s3 which so far dropped the most lore

• thirteen (who's supposed to turn into a LI)'s first visit to the devildom happens in s4 and in nightbringer's op we see her in Diavolo's castle. Which means we're seeing the present timeline as well

....i think you're maybe panicking a bit too much? You definitely don't need to archive anything anytime soon. For well all of the reasons I mentioned above.... Maybe someday you'd have to but definitely not right now

Honestly I liked all the events🤷

No worries! And Yeah I think the thing people are forgetting is that Nightbringer is STILL Obey Me! I'm definitely going to be still talking about it

Ok so I have an exam in 2 days and I think I've answered every possible question about Nightbringer you could possibly have so I'm calling it here.

Won't be answering new asks until sunday. Everything posted will be from queue.

If you want to see my others asks/answers regarding Nighbringer just hit the tag on this post

#obey me nightbringer #asks #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #shall we date? obey me! #swd obey me #swd obey me! #shall we date obey me #obey me simeon #om simeon #obey me! simeon #om! simeon #swd simeon #shall we date simeon

[purebloodnana]

"I'm sorry, okay? You know very well that I didn't mean it!"

"Oh, do I? That's news to me," Draco replied, not even looking at Harry. Harry rubbed his eyes, took his glasses off his nose for a moment, and then put them back on. Only now did he notice that Draco must have put them on when he was still too dazed to notice anything. How could a person be worried, caring, and angry at the same time?

Once again they were silent, this time for much longer, and Harry didn't know what to say either. Right now, everything just seemed to make his boyfriend even angrier. Usually, he thought it best to leave him alone for a while.

For a beaten 30 minutes they just sat there in silence until he wanted to lie down again. "Ah," he grumbled, which was due to a wrong move. Immediately Draco stood up and helped him lie down, catching the black-haired man's gaze, which he immediately knew to interpret correctly.

"I'm not in the mood for this anymore, Harry." The 30 minutes seemed to have worked because Draco immediately seemed more conciliatory. Pissed off, displeased, but no longer angry. They were even back on a first-name basis, and in their relationship that usually meant things were getting better.

"I already said I was sorry. I won't say anything like that to you again, I promise."

"By all, that's sacred to me, that's not the point!" Draco grew louder again but still seemed to have himself under control. At least more than he had just now, which was a good sign for Harry. He still seemed a little confused now, though, which tested the blond's patience.

"Do you think I take great pleasure in showing up here every few months and mothering your injured ass? Continuing to nurse you at home afterward just so you can run off to your next case?"

"That case was important! We were able to arrest Death Eaters who had been spreading fear and terror for months. Without our efforts, they would continue to do so!"

"If it wasn't for that crappy case, we wouldn't be sitting here right now. You always say that. Every time it's an important case or important information or whatever... I can't hear it anymore, it just pisses me off." Draco was struggling to stay calm, Harry could see that and bit his lips. Of course, all these things were important, that was why he did this job after all. He had always wanted to be an Auror and now he could live it to the fullest.

"I get it. Now I have to rest for a few days anyway, right? Then I'll be home and we can take our time. At my next job- Where are you going?" he interrupted himself because Draco had run his fingers through his hair in displeasure at first and then stood up.

"Away before I forget myself!" he shouted angrily at him and disappeared through the door.

Another little snippet.. I wrote this fanfic years ago, but I still like the general idea. I translated it into english not so long ago and now it stays on AO3. Maybe, someday, I'll write a longer story based on this.~ x3

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #auror harry #fanfic #ao3 #gay romance #idiots in love #enemies to lovers #draco and harry #hurt/comfort #my writing #snippet

[clotpolesonly]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @wellhalesbells!! ❤️

How many works do you have on ao3?

213

What's your total ao3 word count?

1,201,156

What fandoms do you write for?

the fics i have on my AO3 are overwhelmingly Teen Wolf (174) 😂 with Merlin as the distant second (32), and then 5 for TRC, 1 for Captive Prince, and 1 for Dark Rise. 1 of TW's is also a crossover with Supernatural, which is not something that i would ever write for independently lol. currently i'm not doing much writing at all because writing is HARD and i've been low on writer juice for a very long time now, but when i do, it's TRC/TDT. that's what i want to be writing and what all the stories living in my head are for.

Top five fics by kudos:

Metamorphose (Merthur, Merlin) - 8278 kudos

Happiness is Effortless (Sterek, TW) - 8113 kudos

Much Ado About You Two (Sterek, TW) - 7632 kudos

I'll Dissolve When The Rain Pours In... (Stackson, TW) - 6549 kudos

We Duel At Dawn (Merthur, Merlin) - 5140 kudos

Do you respond to comments?

i respond to almost every comment i get, though i've taken to letting them pile up a bit before i get up the energy to do so 😅 just yesterday i busted through my backlog of comments, which had gotten up to like 50+ lol, i had just been ignoring it for 3 months. but it's been a point of pride for me since i was like 13 and yelling into the void on FFN to respond to every comment and review on my stories, and i've stuck to it reasonably well over the years. the only ones i don't reply to are the ones that make me anxious adkfjgh ones that ask questions i don't know how to answer yet - primarily, "will you/when will you finish this?" on fics that i INTEND, IN THEORY, to finish someday but don't have hope of doing so any time soon. i don't want to tell them no when i really do mean to finish someday, but i don't want to claim that i will and then fail to actually follow through. so i just. leave those comments in my inbox to haunt me like a heart beating under my floorboards. so i've got 22 of those lmao.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably either 1) These Gordian Knots We Tie (Sterek), which is a sort of an open-ended tragic self-sabotage the-journey-isn't-over-this-is-just-the-low-point kind of thing. i'd originally intended to keep writing, but frankly, i like it as it is. i've gotten several comments complaining about it, which i soundly ignore. or 2) An Empty Glass Is An Ugly Mirror (Dydia), which is an AU fic of Lydia trying to get Derek to leave his abusive wife Kate, but it ends with Derek going back to her. the A/N is optimistic about him leaving eventually 😂 but the story itself leaves off on a very unhappy note.

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

a LOT of my fics are just pure unremitting fluff adlkfjgh, there's no way to answer this question

Do you get hate on fics?

i don't, really, which i'm grateful for. i've gotten a handful of kinda shittyish comments over the years, disagreeing with my authorial choices or characterization or arguing about the choices characters made, but i don't THINK i've ever gotten anything that was really aggressive or outright hateful. which, proportionally, with how much i've written and how many comments i've gotten overall, i find rather astounding. maybe i'm not writing controversial enough stuff 😂 i need to step up my game.

Do you write smut?

i have on occasion, but not very much, lol. gotta run the numbers again....... 6% of my catalog is actually E rated and E+M makes up a little under 10% haha. i can write smut, it's just a lot of work, and i don't usually care enough to bother.

Craziest crossover:

the only true crossover i've written is my SuperWolf one, One For The Road, One For Me (Stiles/Dean Winchester), which i had a great time writing and of which i'm quite fond 😂😂😂 i've got a crossover that lives in my HEAD, though, of TRC and the Hunger Games, where the main TRC cast takes the place of all the main characters in the games but where Snow and Coin remain themselves because there's just no one in birdverse that can really fulfill those roles, and if that fic ever makes it to the page, then it's OVER for you bitches alkjfdhg

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i did have someone steal To Be A King (gen, Merlin) and post it on wattpad with some name changes, but like......not the right names?? like they changed some of the regular character names but not any of the names of the OCs that made the fic unique to me personally, it was really weird, anyway i had to make a WP account so i could message them to take it down and it immediately disappeared without them actually responding to me directly lol. if anything else has been reposted elsewhere, it hasn't been brought to my attention.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i've had 15 fics translated and linked back to me on ao3, which is super duper cool!!! 8 of them are by the same very dedicated russian fan ❤️

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

people have asked to co-author with me before and i always tell them the same thing: bad idea alkjdfhg 😅 i'm a very opinionated perfectionist control freak of a writer, i would be a TERRIBLE person to co-write with. i would either steamroll the hell out of my partner or end up stewing in quiet nagging resentment forevermore that noooooo it should've gone like THIS it's so WRONG it would be better if THISSSSS on everything from narrative structure to word choice 😂😂😂 if you've ever asked to co-write something with me, TRUST me, i turned you down for everybody's sake ...........that being said, me and my best friend cami do collaboratively generate stories together on a regular basis, a kind of Yes, And-ing spiral that can end up thousands and thousands of words long and include details down to verbatim dialogue and body language. but!! the loosey-goosey nature of those chats doesn't quite trigger the same possessive instinct that real actual prose that will be posted and have my name attached to it does. those stories are BANGERS btw, if i could beam them directly into your brain, i would do so 😂 i hesitate to try and write them, though, cuz then it would take them out of our hands and into mineminemine and we'd end up in ^^^ the above situation.

All time favorite ship?

illegal question, impossible to answer, i am too much of a multshipper

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

For Shell And Safety (love this fic DEARLY, an OC i'm actually proud of, stalled out 7 years ago in the middle of the climactic fight scene and just......couldn't find my way out of it)

REM-DAC (soooo proud of the worldbuilding in this fic, got so close to the end until i realized i couldn't finish it because what it really needed was a sequel and i couldn't set up for a sequel until i planned out the sequel, and i could never find anybody willing to read 45k of WIP to help me brainstorm the sequel, so it's just been languishing for 6 years)

Thinking About Blue Skies (a Laura/Allison fic i started writing for the very first LHAW 7 years ago and couldn't finish before posting time. i weep for this one. never had an ending in mind, couldn't figure one out, gave up)

In The Absence Of Scars (i hurried this one out for posting before it was finished specifically so that i could be one of the first 20 fics posted to AO3 for the Dark Rise fandom 😂😂😂 i succeeded!!! but i stalled out, and by now the second book has come out with more info that jossed some of my speculation, and there will undoubtedly be more in the 3rd, and i just, hmm, idk if i'm ever gonna end up writing any more of it. it never really had an endgame to it anyway, i guess)

Merlin Ambrosius, King of Carthis series (the fics already posted in the series are finished, but i promised a threequel 8 years ago and even started planning it out, but then i switched fandoms and never wrote it. rip to the epic Merthian lovestory featuring baby dragons and dragonrider!Raime that may or may not ever come to be, idk, maybe someday i'll circle back around to it)

What are your writing strengths?

i've been told that i have very strong dialogue, and that i capture characters' voices/language patterns well. i'm rather pleased with my ability to convey emotion implicitly through action, body language, and expression rather than having to state it outright. i think my descriptions are good and i'm getting better at balancing description and dialogue. i've got a few action sequences that readers really seemed to like, so i think i've more or less gotten the hang of those 😂

What are your writing weaknesses?

structuring longer narratives is a struggle. knowing when to back off and let tension unwind instead of continuing to winch it higher. i can get stubborn about what i WANT even though it's not working well lol. and in line with that, i'm not the best at taking criticism. not in the sense of getting upset about it, but in the sense of just ignoring it alkdjfgh. like, sometimes i'll ask for critique, get it, and be like mmmmm suddenly i can't read sorry i'm jared 19, and then leave everything exactly as i wrote it the first time 😅 to the detriment of my story. working on that, lmao.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

depends on what you're trying to achieve with it. i wouldn't usually bother with it, cuz it's obtuse and confusing for your reader if you leave it untranslated and if you do translate it then what was the point of writing it out in the other language in the first place instead of just indicating that [the thing it means] was said in [language]?

First fandom you wrote in?

Harry Potter, i think, with early forays also into Wizards of Waverly Place, iCarly, Newsies, and Little Mermaid II 😂😂😂 but by bulk, primarily HP

Favorite fic you've written?

how could you ask someone with 213 fics that question??? that's rude and uncalled for and also impossible to answer. i feel like i'm contractually obligated to say To Be A King, my magnum opus of a fic, longest thing i've ever written and also the single most satisfying ending i've ever managed. that's my default answer for this kind of question, but seriously, it's rUDE, I LIKE MANY OF MY FICS FOR MANY DIFFERENT REASONS!!!

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tagginggggg @adamprrishcycle @flightspathfic @cheeeryos and as always, i KNOW i know more writers, but i can only ever think of so many at a time, consider yourself tagged if you wanna do it

#wellhalesbells #MOOD on the florida public school education btw alkdfjgh