harringtontmaa

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this blog is now an archive ! steve's new blog can be found here !

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he's a barbie boy !

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— 𝙍𝙊𝘾𝙆 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙎 𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘿𝙄𝙀 : ᵇˡᵒᵍ / ᵃˢᵏ / ᵈᵒᶜ / ᶜ / ᵇⁱᵍ ᵇᵒʸ 👑.

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      THERE IS A PART OF HIM  that thinks for a split second that billy might hit him again.  the memory of that fist connecting with steve’s cheek back during their fight at the byers house last fall is somehow still crystal clear in spite of the blurriness that had followed not long after.  it had hurt like a bitch,  &  there’s no doubt that billy could probably lay him out again if he had half a mind to.  but steve doesn’t care anymore.  at this point, he has faced monsters  &  government agents  &  literal tunnels to hell,  &  billy just doesn’t scare him.  because billy’s not a monster — no matter what he might think about himself  —  he’s just another fucked up kid unlucky enough to be stuck in hawkins.

                   but he doesn’t swing at steve, his hands instead fisted at his sides as he searches for the right words.  &  steve can understand not knowing what to say.  so he gives billy a few minutes to think, doesn’t rush him, waits until he finally connects their eyes to speak again.   ❝ dude, i sound stupid all the time, right ?  you tell me so yourself.   it's fine, i won't laugh, i swear.  whatever it is, you can tell me. ❞   & at least billy is talking to him.  it's a vast improvement from his usual method of threats followed by sullen silence.  &  steve is glad for his stubborn streak, otherwise he probably would have given up on billy a long time ago.  but his words don't make sense,  &  steve's brow furroes in confusion, head cocking as he tries to make it all click.  ❝ let what be ?  what are you talking about ? ❞  he can't understand what billy is trying to say, can't figure out what's bothering him.  they still weren't exactly friends, but steve had thought they’d actually been starting to get along lately.  had he been wrong ?

BILLY   IS   GOOD   AT   THIS.   taking   and   twisting   things   until   they   come   out   all   fucked   up.   he   notices   the   way   steve’s   frown   goes   deeper.   and   he   hates   himself   all   over   again.   it’s   funny.   until   steve   grabs   his   arm   and   he   sees   red.   chest   almost   caving   in.   turns   him   around   and   he   doesn’t   swing   just   because   he   is   actuely   aware   that   it’s   steve   the   one   doing   it.   he   just   looks   to   a   side.   avoiding   looking   at   steve,   because   seeing   steve   might   just   break   him.   it   might   just   do   him   in.   he   gets   called   an   asshole.   and   steve   says   he   cares   about   him.   makes   him   feel   lightheaded.   he   wants   not   to   believe   steve.   and   he   can   tell   steve   means   it.   the   way   it   grounds   him,   his   fingers   digging   in.  

billy   can’t   speak.   he   can’t   communicate.   not   the   way   he   would   like   to.   steve   had   said   something   and   it   just   switch   the   switch   in   billy’s   head.   made   him   walk   and   turn.   billy   can’t   even   put   his   finger   on   it.   “-fine.”   he   starts,   still   not   looking   at   him.   nervousness   consuming,   followed   right   by   the   anxiety   of   it.   the   itch   to   throw   a   fucking   punch.   curls   his   fist   closed   and   open.   he   breathes.   he   asks   nicely.   “-don’t.   i   don’t   know   how.   i   don’t   know   how   to   tell   you.   i   don’t   know   how   to   do   this.”   he   sounds   frustrated.   “-sounds   fucking   stupid.”   he   looks   at   steve,   the   frustration   still   there.   like   he   wants   to   keep   brushing   it   off.   and   he   looks   at   steve,   really   looks   at   him   and   the   desperation   claws   at   him.   turns   him   inside   out.   blue   eyes   clouded   by   worry.   the   hand   holding   him   in   place   distracting.   it   doesn’t   hurt.   it   just   puts   him   on   the   spot   when   he   doesn’t   know   how   to   fucking   talk.   “-infinitely   easier   to   just   let   it   be   or   ignore   it   or   anything   else.”   thinks   he   wants   to   die   instead   of   talking   about   it.   thinking   about   steve.   what   does   he   mean.   when   he   says   things.

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         HE DOES’T MISS  the way eddie pulls away from the touch near his collar,  &  the last thing steve wants to do is freak him out while he’s in the throes of a bad trip.  so he drops his hand, guiding him up the stairs with only their interlaced grip  ( & an occasional steadying arm hovering at his back so he doesn’t lose his balance  &  go toppling backwards down the stairs ).  the hallway feels longer than usual somehow, eddie’s fingers occasionally squeezing his with enough force to hurt.  but even so, he doesn't drop his hand, making sure to offer some reassuring pressure each time eddie curls in closer.  steve doesn’t know what he sees;  he’s not even sure what eddie took.  but it has to be giving some pretty unpleasant visuals judging by the way he clings to steve all the way down the hall.

           but steve doesn’t blame him.  his house can be creepy  —  especially when it’s quiet  &  shadowy, with too many doors  &  too few photographs to feel like anyone actually lives here.  &  when eddie peers up at him & asks if he can control the walls, his pupils are so dilated that steve can barely see any of the rich brown that rings them.  but he's smiling a little, too,  &  steve barely suppresses a laugh as he leads him to the right door.  ❝ yup, i control the walls, ❞  he responds softly, teasingly.  ❝  &  that’s how i know that you're safe here. they'll protect you, ok ? ❞  this seems to work, eddie immediately pivoting to debating with himself whether steve was a wizard, or more of a warrior.  &  when he mentions steve’s guns, this time he can't stop a chuckle from escaping.

         once inside his room, steve guides eddie to sit on the bed.  he’s actually got a little experience with being a trip-sitter  —  back when he’d been king steve, tommy had taken a few too many pills at a party more than once  —  &  he knows that total silence can sometimes lead to freak-outs.  he probably doesn't have anything in his music collection up to eddie's diehard-metal standards, but he kinda felt like the situation required something a little more neutral anyway. he settles on queen after flipping through the first few albums  ( he would never be so cruel as to choose prince when eddie was in such a sensitive state ),  &  carefully puts the record on the turntable.  ❝ hey man, don't hate on the corvette, ❞  steve says with a smile when eddie speaks again, glancing over his shoulder at the way the other is looking around wide-eyed, taking everything in. 

                       ❝ but yeah, you're probably right. the decorator said that the dumb grid-pattern was modern. but if i could do it myself, it definitely wouldn't look like this. ❞  as he speaks, the first notes of the album fill the room.  it's a little loud at first,  &  steve quickly adjusts until it's a comfortable level, just enough melody to fill the space between their words  &  keep the room from falling quiet as it is prone to doing when steve is alone.  ❝ how's that, is this okay ? ❞ he asks, conscious of how eddie might react to the unexpected sound.

           it’s just then that there is a soft knock at the door,  &  robin comes in looking almost like a saint as she sets some crackers  &  a jar of peanut butter  &  a big glass of water on steve’s desk.   she pauses to tell eddie that she’ll be just downstairs getting some sleep, before turning to bid steve goodnight.  he thanks her softly  &  promises to repay her with breakfast in the morning,  &  then she’s gone.  &  steve returns to eddie’s side, perching on the opposite side of the bed as he observes him curiously.  ❝ how’re you feeling now ?  you need anything ?  robin brought some snacks up, if you're hungry. ❞

Stupid Steve. Stupid King Jock seeing and hearing with his stupid jock eyes and ears. He didn’t see the evil afoot before them like Eddie, and neither did Robin. He expected better from her. But she retreated quickly, leaving him in the hellscape of Castle Harrington with its current king. Steve kept promising that he was safe, that they were just in a house. So why didn’t it feel like that? It’s the drugs, moron. You’re higher than the fucking moon. He blinked, eyes darting about to put a body to the voice, only to realise the voice had come from his head. Great, more of those. They were rarely anything good, especially when paired with narcotics. But it was better than his visions of Chrissy, not much better, but at least tolerable.

His eyes shifted back to look at Steve, wide and uneasy, like he didn’t entirely trust him or his words. There had been no reason to doubt him in the past and no reason for it now, but his nerd instinct had reemerged for one final showdown with its natural enemy. And yet, the so-called former king of Hawkins was doing something to his hand that calmed the beast enough when it demanded to jump out and snap its jaws at Steve’s throat. Not literally, of course. The touch near his collarbone was unwelcome, and Eddie shrugged it off with ease while a quiet irritated noise slid from his lips which married to the pout that formed soon after. It felt too close, too intimate and overwhelming for a boy that only called him his friend. What he did like were Steve’s hands. There was something very comforting about them, and they didn’t feel like too much. They weren’t crossing over some invisible barrier between friends and something. This was safe.

Eddie stayed quiet when Steve guided him towards the bedroom one step at a time, focusing on the sensation of their entwined hands as an anchor. Every so often, he swore that the walls began closing in on them, only to back away when he leaned in on Steve, who gently reminded him that everything was fine. “Can you control the walls?” He whispered, suddenly looking at Steve, eyes still wide, though containing a very different look. If someone were to look close enough, they might see an almost sparkle in the nearly black depths of Eddie Munson’s eyes. “I never had you pegged as a wizard, dude. Definitely a warrior with those guns—and, you know, how you take a beating pretty good.” Musing on the thought of Steve as a wizard, he failed to notice that the walls had stopped closing in on them. And while the house itself generally made him feel uneasy. The combination of Steve’s closeness and his brain forcing D&D ideas into his mind created a good, albeit temporary, distraction. He felt more at ease.

Being in Steve’s bedroom quickly brought the more unsettling emotions back. People like him didn’t just get into Steve Harrington’s personal space, yet that’s precisely where he was, perched on the end of the bed like a distrusting cat in a new home. He missed Steve’s hand. A barely audible sigh escaped him from its loss, and he looked about curiously, pops of colour appearing before his eyes that covered up the hideous brown wallpaper. For some reason, he had expected the room to be a lot cooler, at least cool in terms of what the owner deemed cool. But it was plain, unloved, and he couldn’t see much of Steve in the decor. Filled with further curiosity, he spoke up, pushing the bad feelings down. “You need to redecorate, Steve.” The thought tumbled out without much consideration, but drugs tended to do that to him, they completely destroyed his filter. “This is soo not how a wizard’s den should look. There are titty and car pics, man. Get it together.” You should probably shut up now, Munson. Why? God, you’re a moron. Huh? Should he not ask questions about the Wizard Steve? That sounded stupid in his head, not asking questions. He wanted to know more about his awesome powers—and maybe about him too. The voice would just have to deal with it.

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      ❝ IS THAT REALLY MEANT TO  make me feel better ? ❞  steve asks, jack's exasperation only matched by his own.  ❝ because it doesn’t. ❞  they'd been apart for weeks,  &  for their reunion to be overshadowed by a new harebrained plan to go after the pearl again after all this time was the last thing steve had expected. a part of him wants to ask jack what was wrong with the ship they stood aboard at that very moment.  from steve's cursory glances, it seemed a sound enough vessel, built to be quick  &  grander than most.  but he knows without speaking what the issue is : it's not the pearl.  &  as jack removes his faithful tricorn  &  steps into his reach, steve feels his willpower begin to soften. jack has always had that effect on him.

                 &  he’s persuasive, steve has to give him that.  the way he talks, it’s like fate itself has handed him this golden opportunity to set things right;  or at least, that’s how he must see it.  &  steve knows better than anyone how he feels about the pearl.  he has seen firsthand what jack would be willing to do to save her.  which is exactly why this particular plan scares him so much.

      ❝ we both know that's not the worst-case scenario, ❞  he counters, arms still crossed over his chest, stubbornly standing his ground.  barbossa couldn't be trusted, not about the pearl or about the curse or about anything.  any deal that hinged on the honor of his word was sure to go sideways.  &  while jack might be willing to take the risk  &  even sacrifice his life in pursuit of the pearl, steve would never agree to such a meager trade for the man he loved.

          but when jack curls his arms around the back of his neck, steve melts beneath the gentle touch, his irritation slipping away in spite of his best efforts to cling to it.  it’s impossible too stay angry at him  —  not when he’s missed him so much.  &  he can see that jack is right about one thing :  he won’t be talked out of this.  he is going, no matter what steve says.  &  he finally crumbles at the realization, releasing a deep sigh.  he lets his arms drop  &  wrap around jack at last, leaning into his touch like he's been starved of it.  ❝ well since it seems there's nothing that i can say to stop you, i suppose i have to go with you. ❞  &  he pulls jack ever closer until there is no space left between them, steve pressing their foreheads gently together.  ❝ someone has to watch your back. ❞

@harringtontm sent a meme: you call THAT a PLAN ? — from a very exasperated steve lol

         “ Yes. ” Brows pinched together and arms went up as Jack was met with the steadfast brick wall that was Steve’s crossed arms, feeling the defensiveness incessantly nudge at the ends of his patience. “ This is not the worst plan I’ve ever had. Even you have to admit that. Off the top of my head I can name five — that you were involved in — that were not as fully formed as this one. ”

         Ordinarily, he might not have minded. Ordinarily, it was Steve’s honest feedback that he craved more than any other: he knew that when the man he loved and trusted spoke plainly to him, no matter how much his pride might bristle, it was only ever with the intention of seeing him safe. Had he not been so blinded now, he might have been able to recognise those same signs here, but he had been on such a rush ever since leaving Port Royal with both a ship and the leverage he needed to secure his actual ship that he had, naively perhaps, expected a similarly enthusiastic response from Steve. He’d been there when he’d lost the Black Pearl in the first place, after all. He’d been there to experience it all. And, having already listened to Gibbs’ reservations about the so-called fool’s errand of going after Barbossa and his cursed, undead crew, Jack had been hoping to find a more sympathetic ear back here in the captain’s cabin of the Interceptor, after excusing himself from Gibbs’ company and blithely pointing the way out of the tavern to the whelp — but it was readily apparent that that wasn’t going to happen either.

           A brief flicker of uncertainty crossed Jack’s face before he lifted the hat off of his head, discarding it on the captain’s table and closing the remaining distance between them. “ I know the original plan was just to get us a ship, but I can’t just… ignore this opportunity, Steve. Bootstrap Bill Turner’s son walked into my row of prison cells. The girl he’s besotted with has the final piece of the Aztec treasure taken from that chest. Worst case scenario, I trade the boy to Barbossa and take the ship. Best case scenario… the curse is broken and I kill him. ”

            His dark eyes searched Steve’s face, making no secret of his eagerness to win him over. But as he moved closer still, winding his arms around Steve’s neck and pulling him in, determined to fracture his resolve, his tone softened a little. “ You don’t have to come. ” Jack meant it. He’d do this alone with Gibbs if he had to. But he didn’t want that, and he wasn’t sure he did a great job at hiding his disappointment at the prospect. “ But as much as I want to spend more than one night here with you, I have to leave in the morning if I have any hope of catching up to him. ”  Fingers played absently with Steve’s hair. “ So, if you’re not coming, please don’t make me waste any more of our time together by arguing the point. You know me; I’ll keep talking us ‘round in circles until dawn’s here. ”

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                  * ──── 𝙸'𝙼 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳  …  𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸𝐵𝑂𝐷𝑌 𝐾𝐼𝐿𝐿 𝑀𝐸 ! ❜ indie  /  private  /  highly  selective  /  𝑐ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑦 𝑐𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑎𝑚  of  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓  𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 & 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 / heavily canon divergent  &  storyline.  /  cursed  in  july  2022 ⋆ * . creds.

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𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝚂𝙳𝙾𝙼 𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙽 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚁, 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝚆𝙰𝚁 𝙲𝚁𝚈 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙸𝚃'𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚃𝙾𝙶𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁.

                                            independent / selective / private                                 NANCY WHEELER from netflix’s stranger things. 

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i'm thinking about how steve will never regret a love, even if it ends up hurting him in the end. thinking about how steve refuses to learn from lost love by hardening himself to it. thinking about how steve cannot, physically cannot, make himself stop loving someone, & how once he loves you, he will love you forever on some level, in some way. just thinking about steve ' i still have hope ' harrington.

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Jasmin Lee Cori, The Emotionally Absent Mother: How to Recognize and Heal the Invisible Effects of Childhood Emotional Neglect

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  HE ISN’T EXPECTING IT when robin drops their interlocked little fingers  &  scoots over to pat the empty spot beside her on her bed.  but he doesn’t mind it either.  on the contrary — as steve crawls up to lie down atop the blankets, he's grateful to have someone he trusts close enough to sling an arm around.  he is all too familiar with being plagued by nightmares, horrible visions of people he loved being hurt or in need of help replaying in his head often when he’s home alone at night.  but being able to feel that robin is safe beside him helped keep those kinds of dreams mostly away.  & even if they still couldn’t fall asleep, at least they both had someone to talk to as they lie awake through the night.

           ❝ oh yeah. by then we’ll both definitely be smooth enough to land a hot french girl. ❞  he jokes, laughing softly enough not to break the middle-of-the-night hush that lingers through in the dark house.  ❝ plus, they love americans over there in europe.  we’re like, exotic to them, right ?  it'll be a piece of cake. or... whatever the french equivalent is. ❞

      but her next question makes him pause, thinking hard.  he doesn’t know nearly as much about the world as robin does, hasn’t studied geography at all beyond when they made everyone memorize all 50 states in sixth grade  &  it took steve a week longer than all the other kids to remember the full list.  but when he considers it, there are some ideas that come to mind.  he’s never told anyone this before, but who better to be the first one than his best friend ? if he & robin can share the bad dreams, then she can be trusted with the good ones, too.

         ❝ i think i’d start on the west coast  —  i’ve never seen the ocean, so that would be pretty cool.  you know, i kinda always thought that one day i’d have a really big family  &  we’d get an rv  &  spend our summers travelling all around the country.  me  &  my wife  &  our 5 or 6 kids,  all piled into a winnebago  &  just driving until we found a nice beach way out in california somewhere. ❞  steve tilts his head to the side, catching her eyes  ( & checking that she's not laughing too hard at him ).  ❝ but it would be fun to see it with you.  check out some surfer babes.  we could drive up the coast  &  go to san francisco or something.  see the golden gate  &  the redwoods & watch the sun go down over the pacific. what do you think ? ❞

         Perhaps the worst part of all of this, worse than the Russians plotting against her country underneath the very embodiment of American capitalism, worse than the fleshy monster she had watched chase them across town and then attack them in that very mall, was that Robin had only discovered in recent weeks that she’d scarcely seen the half of it. Will’s disappearance, Barb, the alternate dimension that said fleshy monster called its home… these were all things that she hadn’t experienced ( yet ), but that Steve had. There was so much more to be scared of in this town than the human monsters, than the lingering nightmares of waking up alone in an underground Russian base with no help coming — and that was yet another thought to keep her awake at night as she was now. Robin wrapped her arms around herself, a self-hug that brought her little comfort.

        Steve’s voice pulled her back to the present, and she rolled onto her stomach on the bed so that she could face him a little better. “ Yeah? ” Linking her pinky with his at once, a bright smile lit up her face even in the dark. But Steve still felt too far away, even just sat on the floor, so Robin shuffled over, before patting the bed to invite him to join her. “ All these European ladies out there are not gonna know what hit them. ” And yet despite the tease, she felt warmth flood her chest at what this meant. Ever since the sophomore experience of her crush on Tammy, Robin’s top choice of companion for leaving Hawkins behind had been herself ( she needed to know herself before she could truly know anyone else, or so the wisest of authors and lyricists had told her ). That didn’t have to be the case anymore: she had a friend to dream with, a partner in crime to escape town with, a companion to create a new life alongside.

         That it was Steve Harrington didn’t even matter anymore. He was the best friend that she’d ever had, and she couldn’t imagine facing the big wide unknown world out there without him.

        “ Where would you go first? ” Robin was lying on her side now, facing him. She’d shared her dream, now it was time for Steve to share his. “ Just assume for a moment that we’re not restricted by money, or which out of state colleges I’ve applied to. If you could go anywhere in the whole world, Steve, where would you start? ”

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⚡ — @munsontm​​​ sent : Do your buttcheeks clap when you walk, babe?

     THERE’S ONLY A SECOND of stunned silence before steve moves past the confusion to start contemplating how to respond.  it’s a marked improvement in his reaction time from when they first started dating, when a question like this would have been met with bewildered demands for an explanation.  but now, steve has officially given up on trying to figure out where eddie’s random thoughts came from, or what had prompted them.  he's learned that most of the time, there is nothing to prompt it — that's just eddie. & to be honest, steve isn't complaining. at least they usually get a laugh out of it. being with eddie was nothing if not interesting.

❝ i don’t know. i don't think so. i never noticed, anyway. ❞ he says, smile wide & amusement glittering in his eyes as he turns around to face his boyfriend. &  after a second, he steps away from the table where he’d been engrossed in folding their laundry to pace a few times back  &  forth across their apartment, adding an extra wiggle to his gait when he passes by eddie's spot on the couch.  ❝ yeah, i don't hear any clapping. do you ? ❞

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steve has had to become decent at cooking some very basic things, because he has been in charge of fixing his own meals relatively often ever since he was a young teen. if he doesn't want to cook, he will frequently order pizza or get convenience to-go food ( such as the breakfast bagel that robin observed him eating daily back in high school ), but when he is at home & needs to make a meal, mac & cheese, scrambled eggs, instant rice, pancakes, & things of that very basic nature are his go-to's. as he settles into his adult life, steve will enjoy learning to cook more & more dishes — especially if he has people he loves around to cook for. nothing motivates him to learn to make something new than wanting to make it for someone else.

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HANGING FROM THE COBWEBS IN YOUR MIND. It looks like a long, long way to fall. No one ever told me life was kind. I guess I never heard it, never heard it all. Living in a world of MAKE BELIEVE, I can hide behind what’s REAL. But wearing your emotions on your sleeve, and they all know what you feel. Oh, NEVER tell a secret with your eyes. It’s the eyes that let you down. Tell a little truth with many LIES, It’s the only way I’ve found. And here it comes again, STRAIGHT THROUGH THE HEART, STRAIGHT THROUGH THE HEART.  :     DOC  /   BLOG   /   ASK   /   SUBMIT  /   WIRE:  MUNSONTM  /  DISCORD:  ON REQUEST  /  IMPORTANT PORTRAYAL HC’S  /  C. /  C.  /  BIG BOY 👑.

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coming off anon because I can. I meant every single word about how much I adore your Steve. I have been tempted time and time again to return to the rpc. I feel like so much has changed though.

ah, hello ! i'm glad you did come off anon, it's nice to meet you ! & i definitely understand your hesitance. as someone who has been in the tumblr rpc in general for a decade now, & involved with the st rpc since 2019, it's absolutely different now than it has been in the past. especially with st it can be overwhelming sometimes, because there are a lot of people in the rpc, which means a lot of opinions. & just like all parts of the internet, people can struggle to coexist with others with clashing opinions. i've mostly managed to avoid friction with others just by staying in my own lane, but conflict does happen sometimes in such a large community of people online.

there's also been a bit of a transition period in the community lately with formatting for rps using the new editor, but i've actually mostly figured it out despite my irritation at needing to lean a new method, with the help of people who have been super helpful with putting together tutorials & answering questions. i do also want to say that some people get really invested in their rp graphics & themes & icons, & so feeling like you need a bunch of graphics to rp can be a big challenge for some people who want to join. but while i definitely understand the appeal of having a pretty blog & decorating your posts ( & absolutely have no issue with those that do it ofc ! ), i don't really do it, & i think it's important to remember that you don't actually need all those kinds of things to rp. all you really need to be part of the rpc is the urge to write a character & the willingness to collaborate with another person & their character to make a story !

all that being said, & in spite of the issues that the tumblr rpc has, i am clearly still here ( in spite of my bouts of low activity or hiatus ) ten whole years later, so i can confidently say that there are many things and people to love here ! if you do decide to return, i encourage you to do it on your own terms & in whatever way makes you feel comfortable & supported so that you can be creative. don't feel pressured because you feel like most of the community does something a certain way — on your blog, set your own rules based on your comfort levels. & always feel free to reach out to others for help, either directly or on the dash ! i have had really amazing luck with finding partners who are wonderfully invested as they are patient, & i do believe that the vast majority of the rpc consists of kind & good people who just want to write — and would love to write with you if you ever did decide to return !

thanks so much for the message & for the kind words ! i realize you didn't explicitly ask for advice, but i hope my experience as a veteran roleplayer gives you a little more clarity. if you end up coming back to the rpc, let me know ! i'll be first in line to welcome you back, friend. 💗